#but pls do im me for plots and etc

[marsbotz]

think i got spoiled for life on mars bc i wanted to make a stupid fucking post abt gene x sam hatesex. TWICE spoiled

[aeyumicore]

please & thank you

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: sylus x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with very little/no plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 7.5k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, SLIGHT spoilers to the lore (with some of my own interpretations and theories), oral m!receiving, fingering f!receiving, face/throat fucking, finger sucking, kinda rough, size difference, cuffing/tied up (m!receiving), sylus kindaaaa/degrading mean but in a tasteful way, he’s also very soft for reader, sylus has a FILTHY mouth, orgasm denial (f! and m!receiving), mirror sex, improper use of Evol, use of Y/N, cute petnames hehe (little dove, little bird, sweetheart, doll, etc), slight predator and prey, choking (kinda breath play??? not really), some references to lore (main storyline + midnight stealth), kinda sub!reader, dom!sylus, THIS IS FILTHY YALL IDK WHAT ELSE TO SAY

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: ao3

━ ✧.˖ A/N: hi guyssss she is here <3 MY FIRST ever sylus fic, first of many me thinks bc i am so utterly infatuated w him im sorry zayne LOL

i did NOT end up making this connected to ‘midnight stealth’ OR ‘no defense zone’ (although some midnight stealth plot is referenced a tiny bit in the beginning). any resemblances to these two memories are purely coincidental, mostly similar because there’s use of cuffs/restraints in all three. this is purely a standalone filthy fic

this has veryyyy little plot, i decided to keep it that way so im sorry to those who wanted to see plot in this ;_; i didn’t want to burn out, which i likely would’ve because pivoting from what i had (5.6k words) to a more plot based fic would have taken me a few more days and probably double the words and i just couldn’t do that to myself. 

i appreciate you guys for supporting me and i really respect each and every opinion so i hope i didn’t let anyone down by not doing the plot version. there will be plenty of opportunities for that i promise <3

pls enjoy :) any comments or reblogs r greatly appreciated (and loved) by me <3 they help me keep motivated to keep writing and truly make my whole week.

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ .

You were playing with fire.

Actually, what you were doing was definitely more dangerous and infinitely more idiotic than playing with fire. 

It was downright deranged. 

It appeared the silver haired man beneath you agreed, his jaw ticking dangerously as his deep crimson eyes crinkled in warning, “Are you sure this is a game you want to play?” 

You knew the answer was definitely no. But the mere glimpse of the Onychinus leader beneath you, at your mercy, was enough to make you push through the thrilling fear coursing through your veins.

With Sylus’s chiseled body unwillingly sprawled out before you, you situated yourself in between his thighs. Though his words and expression were laced with a cautionary edge, his legs spread open for you. 

His wrists were bound with the two silver cuffs you’d purchased at a novelty store on girls day out with Tara, each hand simultaneously locked to the steel beams of your bed’s headboard. With his arms bound above his head, his button up shirt rode up to expose his pale and scarred skin and the defined outlines of the chiseled pelvic muscles that lead to his manhood.

It wasn’t a stretch to say you’d planned this, after all you did buy the cuffs with Sylus in mind. And you’d never forget what Luke and Kieran had told you, in what felt like a lifetime ago. 

“Boss is most vulnerable when he’s sleeping.” 

Except now you weren’t binding him for the purpose of incapacitating him to find that damned brooch he’d taunted you with. Now, when he’d dozed off after you’d forced him to marathon the Harry Potter series with you, you tied him up with only one goal in mind.

Well maybe two. To tease and to punish.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you watch the way Sylus’s naval rises and falls irregularly, a subtle sign of his boiling anticipation. His exposed pelvis is dusted in a faint path of hair, trailing to where his pants hang dangerously low on his hips, after you’d taken his belt off. 

Sylus watches you with a careful eye as your hands find his waistband, tugging his bottoms and his boxers down in one motion. He tuts disapprovingly, even as his body lifts every so slightly to assist you in undressing him, “I’ve already warned you once. I won’t warn you again.” 

And yet, there’s an undeniable amusement in his voice that lets you know it’s safe to keep going. Your eye contact never breaks as you tug his clothing all the way down, until they rest at his ankles. His hardening cock springs free as you do so, the thick mushroom head already leaking a shiny streak of precum. As it slaps against his abdomen, Sylus’s carmine irises darken, but he refuses to make any sounds. The screech of steel rattling against steel is loud in the tense air, the formidable man’s fists clenched so tightly his nails threaten to break his skin. 

You bend down slowly, torturously languid, until his masculine scent invades your senses. You shiver in pleasure, positively addicted to every part of him. Sylus’s stomach heaves as he curses you inwardly; you were the only devilish minx that could even fathom rendering him into this vulnerable state. The only person he’d ever allow to see him like this. 

“You’ve become quite bold, little bird. Perhaps I’ve been too lenient with you.”

His cocky attitude makes you want to shiver, but you find the strength to retort back, “Perhaps you have.”

Not wanting to give him a chance to respond, and a chance for you to lose your courage, you let your tongue run over the thick tip of his erection, collecting his arousal on your tongue. You make a show of savoring his taste, letting your eyes bat at him while you lick him clean. 

Sylus is hypnotized, crunching up to watch you. His wrists pull against the metal restraints, growing irritated with being held back. Of course, if he’d wanted to, he could snap the cuffs with a mere tick of his fingers, but he found it amusing to watch his mischievous little bird believe she had control. 

When you take his head fully into your lips, Sylus’s hips involuntarily buck up into the heaven that is your mouth. Though surprised, you do your best to accommodate the extra inches, tongue twirling around his leaking slit as your jaw unhinges to take in his fat girth. 

“Fuck.” 

Sylus’s dark eyebrows are scrunched as he fights the urge to destroy the cuffs to get to you, wanting nothing more than to sink his fingers into your hair and push you down until you couldn’t breathe. But he prided himself as a man of patience, even if he despised being tested. 

And you were absolutely testing him. Your puffy lips caressed his sensitive veins, tongue assaulting every flaming nerve of his massive length, delicate and soft fingers leaving no inch of him untouched. Yet you moved so languidly. Deliberately testing how far you could push him, testing his resolve. Not that he would ever beg, but he desperately wished you’d move faster, take him deeper. 

“My love,” he purrs, deceptively calm even as your filthy tongue lathered his most sensitive parts, “I implore you to release me. While I’m still feeling generous.” 

Doing your best to shut him up, you take him into the back of your throat, fingers shifting from the base of his manhood to his heavyset balls. You’re only half successful in your antics, as you do cut off Sylus’s demands, only to be replaced by an inexplicable string of curses. The daunting leader of the Onychinus, whose name evoked fear itself to most, unraveled at your whims. A man who had no weaknesses, save for one.

You.

With his head thrown back, hair tousled and matted with a thin layer of sweat, he began to pant heavily. His neck bobbed deeply to the rhythm of his gasps, hands pulling against the restraints you’d locked him into. The sound of metal clashing against metal is almost deafening, your head snapping up to his arms bound above his head. 

For a second you’d feared he’d snapped the steel cuffs, his biceps rippling and forearm veins bulging with the sheer strength of his arms. But fortunately for you, his wrists were still firmly bound, a red angry circle forming where the metal met the pale skin of his hands. 

“Do you really think – hah – this will end well for you, dove?” Sylus considers this your very last warning, crunching up once again to watch you, your mouth full of his cock, saliva dribbling down your chin as you try to accommodate his thickness. He swears under his breath at the sight of you, his woman, the only person he’d ever even consider letting his guard down around, pleasuring him so sweetly and enthusiastically. Even if you were so foolish that you thought you could get away with typing him up. 

You look up innocently at him, fluttering your eyelashes as you fuck him with your mouth. Though you let him hit the back of your throat every time, your rhythm is intentionally and torturously slow, edging him without making it obvious enough for punishment. And although each intentional motion elicits the most mind numbing grip from your gag reflex on his throbbing erection, he’s losing his mind from how much more he wants. How much more he needs. 

“Faster.”

You nearly choke as you giggle at his demands, releasing his cock with a resounding pop. Of course, even tied up, Sylus didn't use the word ‘please.’ The man of unthinkable power was absolutely used to getting what he wanted without even batting an eye. It was a habit that he rarely relented on, and when he did it was only for you. 

“What’s the magic word?”

Sylus glowered at you, jaw twitching dangerously as he did his best to hold himself back, “Watch it.” 

It was truly taking every ounce of willpower he had to not rip the cuffs off the steel beams of your bed, taking your headboard apart with it. All so he could have more.

“Sylus,” you pout, still using your hands to gingerly stroke him with a featherlike touch. Nothing intense enough to get him off. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to say ‘please’ when asking for something?” You give him a pointed squeeze, thumb stroking the underside of his swollen head. 

He curses, pelvis thrusting up into your fist to try and chase the pleasure you’re withholding from him, “Fuck, if you’re going to act like a brat, I’m going to treat you like one.”

“I just want to hear the words ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ Please. See how easy that is?”

“Y/N, my heart,” Sylus purrs lowly, eyes glinting dangerously, “I won’t tolerate any more disobedience.”

“Well then you don’t get what you want.” As soon as the words left your mouth you knew you’d regret them. 

Before you can even blink, you find yourself pressed firmly into the mattress, your head hanging off the side, hair dangling freely. The air feels strangely brisk, and you can vaguely feel your nipples hardening. It’s then you realize you’re naked. But you hadn’t felt Sylus lay a single finger on you.

His Evol.

You’d become so accustomed to Sylus’s Evol that you no longer felt its slightly suffocating  invisible web when it touched you, unlike when you’d first met him in the N109 zone. The countless times he’d use his Evol to guide your lips to his, your hand into his larger ones, or to undress you, had actually made you quite fond of the touch of his Evol. 

Little did you know that Sylus had actually been practicing lightening up the intensity of it, for you. He’d always detested seeing the uncomfortable scrunch of your eyebrows, the hostile goosebumps that would raise where his Evol touched you. So he’d absolved himself to train the claws of his Evol to soften, instead becoming that of a gentle caress. Only for you, of course. For everyone else, they got the skin-shredding talons that parents warned about in cautionary tales to their children. 

Hanging upside down, the glint of the ceiling light against the silver cuffs hanging off your headboard catches your eye, snapping you from your thoughts. The metal loops were still completely intact, but unlocked. Of course you knew he’d use his Evol to escape eventually, but it still surprised you how he managed to do it so effortlessly. Graceful in everything he did. 

You try to sit up, but Sylus’s hand wraps itself softly around your throat and holds you back down. He tsks scornfully, a playful warning in the swirling glowing cerise of his eyes. His grip is gentle enough where you can still speak normally. Rough enough where you want more.

So you pout childishly, “It’s just like you to use your Evol for such cheap tricks.” 

From beneath his towering frame, you can just barely see him raise his perfectly arched eyebrow. Most of him is obstructed by his massive erection pressed at your nose, menacingly imposing before you. “Cheap? Doll, there’s nothing cheap about me. And nothing cheap about the things I’m going to do to you.”

You shiver involuntarily at his threats, your thighs clenching together in anticipation. Sylus’s words were always harsh, but when it came to you there was always such a profound sincerity and gentleness behind his actions, even when he was brutally devouring your body. So the danger edged into his words only served to excite you, fueling the dampness that had formed between your legs. 

And of course, his perfect cock dangling in front of your lips, still glistening with a sheen of his arousal and your saliva. Hanging so closely to your waiting tongue, but never touching. That definitely did not help the throbbing ache in between your thighs. 

“I think you’ve had enough fun, don’t you agree?”

Feeling daringly bold, you playfully curse him, “Screw y–” But before you can finish getting the words out, Sylus grips your jaw, shoving himself into your waiting mouth. The force he uses is enough to make your eyes roll back, the feeling of being full of him making you forget what you’d wanted to say to begin with. You’re careful to pull back your teeth as he finds his way to one of his favorite places, the back of your throat. 

“Let’s give that mouth something to do, other than run itself, hmm?”

You groan in response, letting the vibrations of your throat speak for you. Sylus grunts, removing his hand from your throat and weaving it into your hair like he’d wanted to earlier. His grip is strong, just hard enough that you feel an immense pleasure from the stinging pull. With a firm hand on your scalp, he fucks into your face, his meticulously groomed hair brushing against your nose at every thrust. 

His speed and vigor is relentless, not that you’d complain even if you could. The feeling of Sylus driving in and out of your throat, like you were a fleshlight, had your body vibrating with need, clit throbbing in ecstasy. How you could feel this good just sucking his cock was beyond you. Your unrestrained moans were an absolute orchestra to his ears, the vibrations running through every nerve ending in his erection, causing him to release a string of his own sounds 

“You’re so – hah – exquisite like this, dove. Choking on my cock instead of your words.”

You whine at him, so unbelievably turned on by the filthy way he speaks to you. His skin slaps against your wet mouth, and an obscene amount of drool mixed with precum drips off your cheeks and onto the carpeted floor beneath you. You loll your tongue out to try and catch his copious dribbles of precum, not wanting to waste any part of him. 

“I can see my cock in your throat, sweetheart,” he cooed, using a hand to brush against your throat, where his erection bulges against your neck each time he fucks into you. 

Tears streamed from your eyes as Sylus’s pace increased, gripping onto your hair for even more leverage against your beautiful face. 

“Crying already? Not feeling so bold anymore, my love?” 

You ignore his patronizing words, trying to focus instead on your own pleasure. With one hand still gripping the hard muscles of his bubbly rear, your other hand wanders to the quivering area between your thighs, fiddling with the bundle of nerves that was slick with your arousal. You desperately seek to relieve some of the tension building up in your gut, all from just Sylus’s cock in your mouth.

But before you can give yourself any inkling of pleasure, you feel a familiar force of energy pulling your hand away. 

“I don’t recall giving you permission to touch yourself.”

You nearly sob at his words. You want to speak, plead with him to touch you, or at least let you touch yourself, pride be damned. But his unbelievable girth makes it impossible to do anything but devour him repeatedly.

The white haired man above you watches you carefully, swearing at how your tear soaked face makes his resolve to punish you crumble ever so slightly. Taking pity on you, he brings your hand to his, weaving his long fingers into yours. You hold his hand tightly, enjoying the way his much larger hand clasps into yours, fingers digging into your sensitive flesh.

“Good girl,” he coos in praise, voice tinged with a condescension that makes your skin crawl in excitement, “You don’t touch what’s mine, unless I say, hm?”

You look up at him with wide wet eyes, nodding obediently as he continues to ravage your face. He pressed your hand deeper into the mattress, his thrusts becoming so intense that you knew you’d have a hard time speaking tomorrow, your throat battered and bruised. 

From your position, you don’t see the glowing light that emanates from your joined fingers. But Sylus does, and he watches in a concealed wonder at the way you can so easily resonate with him now. You didn’t even need to try, a single touch was all it took. It was a testament to how much you’d grown to trust him. 

No, it was a testament to the deep love and respect you’d both come to hold for each other. You’d both definitely come a long way from when he’d captured, or when you let him capture, you at the N109 zone all that time ago. The thought of that threatens to make Sylus shiver as he continues to ram himself deep into your warm wet throat. He watched the way you took him so eagerly, hand gripping his for dear life, your other hand coming up to stroke his heavyset balls as they slapped against your face. The way your poor little throat bulged every time he thrusted into it, the bump so visible to his hungry crimson eyes.

Oh, how you ruined him. He’d fucking marry you.

Your jaw ached, having been open as widely as possible for far too long now, but you did your best to continue to take him. The feeling of him using your mouth was more than enough to keep you growing wetter, needing more. Your thighs squeezed together, as you rocked into nothing, wanting nothing more than to feel any friction between your legs.

Sylus watched as you pathetically tried to find pleasure in the empty air, nearly growling at how arousing the sight was. He was fueled with such an intense desire and love for you, nothing like he’d ever felt before. And that love and desire was enough for him to concede, if even just a little bit, for you.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling…charitable today, my dove,” he murmurs, releasing your hair and bending over your body. His erection never leaves your mouth, but he hovers so that your sight is filled with the view of his solid abdominal muscles. You cry out against his member when the familiar feel of his fingers finds your clit. You gasp out, choking on him, your hips jolting up eagerly to meet his torrid touch.

Sylus chuckles, a satisfied smirk making its way onto his unfairly gorgeous face, “Look at how eager you are…all this just from the taste of cock?”

Not able to respond, you hump up into his hand, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment of how desperate you were for him. Sylus only gives you a pointed thrust into your throat, making you gag deliciously around him again.

“Such an insatiable little bird,” he murmured, fingers expertly toying with you.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” his skilled ministrations never stopping, “I wish you could see how lovely you look with your mouth full.” 

Your eyes rolled back when he entered you, one finger at a time. He cursed at how tightly you gripped just one of his fingers. He had half a mind to just bury himself into your perfect cunt right then and there. And that’s just what he’d do. He was never used to not indulging in what he wanted, why stop now?

You felt the familiar shift in energy, a gentle hold on your body, until you found yourself laying on the middle of your bed, Sylus situated between your knees, fingers still toying with you. Your neck screaming in relief at the plush surface, mind reeling from the sudden shift. 

The white haired man bends to hover over you, free hand caressing your jaw, his frighteningly beautiful face before yours, “Hello, my love.”

Your voice is hoarse, sounding unfamiliar, “Hi.” It’s nothing more than a pitiful squeak.

Sylus chuckles, his chest rumbling warmly at your adorably vulnerable state, “How’s your throat?”

You glare at him, trying to steady your raspy voice, “Don’t patronize me.”

He smirks, not the least bit apologetic, but says, “Forgive me, love.” He doesn’t give you a chance to sass him further, instead bringing your chin up to his. His lips slot onto yours, deceptively slow at first and quickly progressing to a vigor that matched the way he’d rammed himself into your throat. 

The bruising intensity of the kiss made your mind muddle, your hands coming up to grasp his neck to ground you. You gasped at the feeling of his heartbeat pounding so forcefully in his neck. The familiar feeling of an earth shattering orgasm edges into your numbed mind, every heightened sense filled with Sylus and only Sylus.

You finally break away, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him scissoring in and out of you, enough to have you on the brink of climaxing, “Sy-Sylus, I’m–”

Sylus reads you like the back of his hand, withdrawing his fingers and roughly grabbing your face to look up at him. You sob at the loss of friction, looking up at him with teary questioning eyes. 

The ceiling lights illuminate behind Sylus, forming a halo like ring atop his head. He was so hauntingly and terrifyingly beautiful. Not unlike that of a fallen angel, whose sole purpose was to ruin you. 

And just as you’re admiring him, Sylus looks down at you. Unbeknownst to you, he also considers you to be his very own angel sent from the heavens. Bringing light and salvation to the shadowed crevices of his soul.

But even then, he can’t help but tease you, the urge to see you ruined at his hand. An angel with tattered wings, so utterly spent with lust. “You don’t cum until I say, hm?” As if to punctuate his point, he puts his fingers, wet with your slick, in between your parted lips. The taste of you is strong on him, enough to distract you from Sylus, who’s lining up his more massive than ever erection with your weeping slit. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Suck. I know you can do better than that.”  

He presses his fingers harder onto your tongue, relishing in how warm you feel around him. At your adorable pouty glare, he pushes his leaking tip into you.

You yelp in surprise, biting down on his fingers in your mouth. Sylus hisses, but the pain only further arouses him, making him shove into you suddenly. Your hands come up to grasp his forearm, the veins bulging under your touch. 

The feeling of him entering you is so overwhelming, the only thing grounding you to the present was the way his fingers felt and tasted against your tongue. And so you devoured him in earnest, much to his satisfaction. 

It’s not long before he bottoms out, his head kisses your cervix, just enough to have your eyes rolling back, sparks of hot white pleasure clouding your vision. 

Sylus removes his fingers from your mouth, bringing his thumb to his own lips and brushing it across his parted mouth, his other fingers outstretched as he licks across his thick thumb. You whimper at the sight, so unbelievably seductive he has to be doing it on purpose. 

“You always taste divine.” His movements have all but halted completely, his thick girth just sitting inside of you, brushing against your womb. And even though the stretch is enough to practically compress your lungs, you want more. 

“D-Don’t tease Sylus,” you whine pathetically, “Fuck me.” 

The smile on his face is as cocky as ever, the corner of his lips curving up, as sharp as his edged jaw. 

“So bold. Do you really think you’re in any position to make demands?”

He gives you just one pointed thrust, cockhead nestling so deliciously into your sweetest spots, but stopping just at that. You cry out, fingers gripping the comforter so tightly your knuckles turn white. 

“If I recall correctly…someone once told me something about saying…what was it? ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’?”

He grins down at you, bending forward so that he hovers right over your face. He would never let you know but the pouty grimace on your lust glowing face was nearly enough to have him caving into your every whim, punishment forgotten in the wind. 

“Hm? So what do we say, sweetheart?”

With his cock situated so perfectly in you, it’s impossible for you to do anything but follow his every command, no matter how much it bruises your ego.

“P-Please?”

His smirk deepens, fingers cupping your chin up to face him, “You can do better than that, Y/N.”

You groan as he shifts, giving you just the tiniest bit of friction where it mattered. You do your best to find the confidence, “Please Sylus.”

There’s the faintest flicker of darkness in his eyes, a twitch of unraveling at the way you effortlessly purr his name. If you had any idea the things you did to him, the mighty and fearless leader of the Onychinus, it would be his absolute undoing. 

“Please what, my dove? Come on, use that beautiful voice of yours.”

Before you can let out your snarky response, his fingers travel to your neck, stroking your sensitive pulse gently before pressing down to compress your airway. 

“Or is this throat only good for taking my cock?”

You whine at his words, patience absolutely gone. You wrap your legs around his waist and force him closer. A pathetic attempt to get him to thrust into you. Your hands come up to the back of his neck, and your tear glistening eyes search his pleadingly. He’s taken aback by the sudden shift, a small gasp escaping his parted lips. In his surprise, he lets himself be guided to you, his forehead falling to lay atop yours, his breath fanning against your own. 

“Please Sylus, please fuck me. I’m sorry, I’ll be a good girl. Please.”

The curse that leaves Sylus’s voice is barely perceptible as he drinks you in. Your cheeks were still streaked with tears, your eyes wide and glassy. Your lips were puffy from his bruising kisses, and cheeks heated with desire. There was absolutely nothing in the universe that could match how utterly gorgeous you were. His gorgeous woman. His to ruin. 

His voice low with longing and hunger, “Fuck, okay love. I’ll give you what you want.”

He manipulates the energy around you, raising your arm above your hand. His slender fingers dance up your exposed skin, until they find your fingers. His nails graze your inflamed skin, fingers toying with yours. For a brief moment, he enjoys how much smaller your hand feels in his. His delicate little bird.

“Hold on tight.”

Your fingers grip his, your nails digging in when he finally pulls his cock out, leaving only his head still snuggly inside. Without giving you a second to breathe, he’s plummeting himself back into your sopping cunt. Your combined slick ensures there’s zero resistance, only the sounds of wet slaps filling the space between you. 

Sylus’s forehead still rests against yours, his free arm bent above your head, helping support him as he fucks you with a painfully delicious intensity. Your cunt milks him perfectly, the warmth far too inviting and the tightness much too constricting. His fingers grip yours forcefully, trying to offset the way your pussy tries to suck the living soul out of him. 

“Sy-Sylus,” you cry out, nails digging crescents into his skin, your other hand coming up to rake red scratches into his back, “Slow – ngh – slow down!” Your brain is a jumbled mess, confused at the words your tongue lets out when your body only wants more.

Sylus’s chuckle is low and almost sinister, his pace never relenting, “That’s funny. I recall you saying you’d be a good girl.” He shifts his weight to his knees, moving his palm to your naval, pressing down. You squeal at the feeling of his palm pressing into your stomach, your sensitive walls being compressed into his cock spearing in and out of you. 

“And good girls take what they’re given, hm?”  

Moans and whimpers are the only thing you’re capable of producing, his pace brutal, like he was trying to find his way into your throat from your cunt. You don’t notice his hand traveling further south until his thumb presses into your swollen clit, flicking hard. You screech, your back arching off the bed, giving him further access to your dripping cunt. 

“Answer me when I speak to you, sweetheart.” 

“Yes! Yes, I’m a good girl, I can take it!” you all but screamed, spine so arched you felt like you were levitating.

The erotic cries that leave your lips make it difficult for Sylus to think straight, so he doesn’t. He fucks you with a ferocity that was nothing short of animalistic, the only thing he can think of is how many different ways he can and will make you cum. 

He presses your joined palms deeper into the mattress, eyes searching yours desperately. For what, you were unsure. But as his scarlet irises bore into yours, you felt an overwhelming sense of emotion catch in your throat.

Propping yourself slightly on your elbows, you pressed your forehead to Sylus’s, his sweat dampened bangs fluttering against your eyelashes.You reach up to cup the back of his head, pulling him towards you. His right hand never leaves your clit, his left staying tightly clasped with yours.

He takes the opportunity to press his lips to yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth. You moan into him as he claims you fully, thrusts moving in tandem with his tongue. It’s a torrid clash of tongue and teeth, enough passion to have the Aether core in your heart throbbing dangerously erratically. 

“Syluuus,” you slur as you pull away to breathe, “I-I’m..I’m gon–” You can’t get the words out, the tip of his cock against your cervix and fingers on your clit bringing you into another dimension, one filled with him. The scent, the sound, the feel, the sight of him. 

“I know. Getting so goddamn tight,” he grits out, jaw locking as he tries to steady himself against your vice grip. Sylus was a man of boundless stamina and restraint, but when it came to you… When it came to the absolute heaven that was your body, he could hold nothing back. 

Just as you neared your orgasm, Sylus stops again. You find your body being moved again, but this time Sylus’s hands are lifting you, and not his Evol. His strong arms lift you so that you’re sitting on his lap, your back pressed against his muscled chest, and his back leaned up against the bed.

He does however use his Evol to drag over the gold arched full-length mirror you had propped up against the corner of your bedroom, so that it sits right in front of the bed. Your vision is filled with the gleaming reflection of you, naked on Sylus’s lap, his arrogant smirk right by the top of your head. His muscular arms are draped over your thighs, spreading open your glistening folds, fully exposing you before the mirror. 

“Sylus s-stop. It’s embarrassing,” you whine, averting your gaze at the lewd sight, and the even filthier sounds of his fingers against your copious slick. But he grips your jaw firmly, turning you back to the mirror. 

“Look how beautiful you are,” he murmurs, lips pressed against your ear, “Look.” 

You puff your cheeks, fighting against his fingers.

“Look, love. Or you don’t get to cum,” he purrs in your ear.

You mutter sulkily, knowing full well his threats are anything but empty, “You’re evil.” 

But you obey diligently, letting his fingers guide your face forward. The sight before you is so unbelievably filthy, Sylus’s long fingers digging into your thighs to keep them spread open, his other fingers playing with your swollen lips. Even on his lap, he was a head taller than you, His soft white hair is matted with sweat, his cheeks dusted a peachy red with how vigorously he’d just been fucking you.

As your eyes meet in the mirror, Sylus lifts you from underneath your thighs, and spears you onto his cock. You cry out at the feeling of being stretched open again, Sylus’s own ecstasy fueled grunts in your ear.

With you atop him, his cock reaches so unbelievably deep inside you that you feel the tears returning. Your eyes screw shut as his tip repeatedly brushes against your cervix, the familiar pain quickly dulling into an intense pleasure. 

Suddenly you feel Sylus’s teeth at the crook of your neck, and arm coming across your chest to enclose over your entire throat. His sharp canines dig into the area where your neck meets your shoulder, biting just hard enough to make your eyes fly open to face his in the mirror. His eyebrows are quirked at you, amusement evident in his sharp ruby eyes.

He doesn’t speak, instead keeping his mouth attached to your pulse point. But the dark sultry heat swirling in his eyes that you can see reflected in the mirror is a clear and wordless command. 

Watch.

And who were you to disobey him, when his body brought this much pleasure to your own. 

So with your eyes locked on his in the mirror, Sylus begins to bounce you in earnest on his lap. And while you moan and whimper as he springs you so effortlessly on his cock, like you weighed nothing more than a mere toy, his own noises are muffled by his teeth that are sunk into your fluttering neck. 

His eyes never leave yours in the mirror, darkened underneath his eyebrows, glowing with red hot lust. The way he watches you is so intimately primal, like a predator toying with its prey before the kill. 

With his hungry gaze locking yours in place and the lewd wet sounds of slick skin pounding against one another, you feel the alarmingly rapid tightening of your abdomen that signals your orgasm. Sylus feels it too, your walls tightening so intensely that the outline of his veins might imprint into you. Your grip coaxes his own cock toward release, his jaw tightening as to keep himself in check. 

He releases your bruised skin, admiring how breathtaking you look with his marks on you. His hand leaves your clit to rest on your tummy, stroking the skin there. You can feel him use his Evol to keep you in place, only the raw strength of his thighs and abs keeping you in steady motion on his length. 

“Look,” he croons in your ear, teeth grazing against your sensitive earlobes, “Can you see where I am, dove? I’m allll the way here ” His husky voice drawls, hand on your abdomen pressing down. You can definitely see the distinct outline of something large thrusting in and out of you. Your eyes widen at the mirror, mesmerized at how your bodies connect, almost resonating on their own. Sylus’s eyes are also glued to the way the base of his cock, shiny with a ring of arousal, forces your tiny fluttering cunt to take him in all his glory.  

“Tell me how it feels, hm? Tell me how I make you feel.” When you don’t respond, too lost in the sight in the mirror, his fingers come back down to squeeze your clit,

“Sylus! – ngh – feels ssoo so good,” you simper, panting through the hold he still has on your throat, the pressure quickly becoming far too addicting, “I-I…”

“Hah,” he groans into your ear, “You what baby? Tell me.”

“M’gunna cuuum,” you wail as his angle shifts just slightly, cock driving into your g spot. Sylus knows just how to play with you, his fingers sending you to heaven and back repeatedly. He was so thick that you felt like he'd split you in two, your cunt and thighs being stretched to their limits against the sloppy friction.

“Hmmm, is my beautiful girl going to make a mess on me? Does she deserve to?”

The mere thought that he might deny your climax again has you sobbing, tears of anguished ecstasy rolling down your face as his pace picks up even further.

“P-Pleaaase – unghh – please let me. I’m a g-good girl, I’ll be so – hnngh – good, I promise.”

Sylus had no intention of denying you again, but now he physically couldn’t. Because now, watching the fat tears roll down your cheek and hearing your beautiful pleas, he too could feel himself pulse with the ache to fill you up. As he watched your breathtaking form in the mirror, he cursed the Gods for sending the only thing that could ruin him. 

You.

And yet, being ruined by you felt so damn good.

“Good for who, my love?”

Your vision has become clouded by your tears and the black spots that blot your eyesight. But the possessive purr in Sylus’s voice reaches you, through all the blinding pleasure, and makes butterflies flutter in your chest.

Your hands come up behind you to grasp behind his neck, and you strain yourself so that you turn just slightly to face him. For a second Sylus looks taken aback, but he quickly composes himself, the confident smile returning to his lips. 

“Nggghh – for you, Sylus.” The sincerity of your shaking voice wipes the cocky smirk off his face, his thrusts faltering ever so slightly. For a brief second, Sylus can’t feel anything. He can’t feel the way your cunt, on the precipice of release, squeezes so forcefully that it threatens to break him in half, the way your soaking thighs ripple against his lap as he pounds into you, the way your fingers play with the hair at the back of his head.

Fate had played a cruel trick on the two of you. Two tragically entwined Aether cores. Two birds of a feather, trapped in the cage destiny had built. 

But now, there is only you and him. Fate and destiny be damned. 

“I’m yours Sylus. Always yours.”

Your words, delicate and simpering, pull him back to reality. All the sensations he’d briefly been numbed to came crashing back. The torturously delicious way you felt around him, atop him, and against him swarmed back all at once. And to top it all off, the sight of your fluttery wide wet eyes, hazed over with a fog of lust, staring at him with such wonder and adoration. Your eyes alone were practically making love to him.

It made him absolutely feral.

You squeal, thighs doing their best to grip against Sylus’s lap as he bounces you with an unprecedented vigor, his hand holding your throat to keep you somewhat steady. You watch his muscles bulge, his much larger frame very much on display behind you. Powerful and imposing – a true god-like glory. 

“That’s fucking right, you’re mine,” he hisses in your ear, jaws clenched to hold back the moans your pussy threaten to pull from his body. 

“Gonna cum in you, yeah? Would my slutty girl like that?"

“Y-Yes!” you squeal, so close to coming undone, “Pleeease Sylus!  I-I’m s’close, I’ll do anything please!” You were quickly losing your voice amidst all the screaming and vigorous activities.

You can see Sylus devilish smile, releasing your throat to tilt your chin towards him.

“Anything? You’re making a deal with the devil, little dove.”

With your face so dangerously close to his, he can’t resist. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, his lips crashing onto yours, locked in the sweltering passion of your bodies. The feel of his tongue claiming every inch of your mouth is just enough to send you headfirst into the orgasm you’d been on the brink of for so long.

And because of that, your body couldn’t hold back the gush of excitement that squirted from where Sylus was connected to you. It’s so messy you can’t help the way your cheeks burn in embarrassment, even amidst the short circuiting of your pleasure-numbed brain. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” Sylus bites out, the tautening of your orgasm stricken cunt nearly squeezing him into unconsciousness. He fucks you through your blissed out state, and it isn’t long before he follows your lead. 

Like everything Sylus does, the way he cums is frighteningly powerful. Your body involuntarily shivers at how hot he is, but more so just how much there is. You can both clearly see the thick milky white seed seeping down Sylus’s cock, even as he continues to fuck into you. His thrusts are slower now, but more intentional. Conveying every ounce of passion into the way he rocks into you. Overstimulation quickly grips you, and you weakly tap at his thighs.

“Sylus, no-no more. S’too much.”

“M’not done,” he groans into your ear as he continues to thrust into you, and it’s then you feel his cock still shooting ropes of his hot spend inside you. He does, however, release your clit, shoving his fingers in your mouth, knowing it'll give you something to ground yourself amidst the sensitivity while he rides out the waves of his climax. 

You gladly accept his fingers, grasping his forearm and sucking like his arm was a dessert. The taste of your mixed slick helps distract you from the intense aftershocks that wrack your body. It’s all enough to have Sylus spurting out everything he has, drained completely empty, milked utterly dry. 

When you feel him finally still, you crack your eyes open, almost scared to see the aftermath. 

The waning sun bounced beams of golden sunlight off your sweat, tears, and cum slicked bodies. Your own body was also littered in pretty little bruises, in the shape of Sylus’s teeth and fingers. Bruises in places you hadn’t even felt Sylus sink his teeth into. They quite literally looked like swirls of paint against a blank canvas. 

Your hair was a mess, and your tear stained face was no better. The area between your thighs was red and puffy, leaking an obscene amount of white cream, all the while still stuffed to the brim with Sylus’s softening member. Even half hard, he stretched you absolutely full. 

On the other hand, the man in question looked absolutely ethereal as he loomed above you in the mirror. His hair sat lusciously soft, gently blowing with the breeze entering through the cracked window. His muscles still flexed gently as they recovered from the vigorous activities, strong chest rising and falling rhythmically with his steadying heartbeat. 

And finally his eyes that watch you back so carefully, the carmine orbs half lidded with satisfied bliss. His lips stretch into that signature Sylus smirk when he catches you staring, nothing short of heart stoppingly arrogant.

He’s so unbelievably handsome, your cunt quivering again just at the sight of him. Wincing at the feeling of his cock inside you stirring back to life at your involuntary throbbing, you panic and tap furiously on his thigh. 

“Sylus, put me down.” 

Sylus chuckles, mischief coloring his scarlet eyes, “What, no ‘please’?”

You whine, not able to withstand the feeling of him stirring back to life in your absolutely spent core. Yet you can feel yourself fluttering in anticipation. And you know he can feel it too. 

You silently curse your traitorous body.

“Please.”

He laughs warmly and obliges. His strong hands grip the underside of your thighs, lifting you off of him. You cry out at the feeling, your cunt clenching at nothing, seeking him once more. Sylus inhales sharply, craving your tight warmth again. But he holds you gently against his chest, shifting so that his erection rests between his abdomen and your thigh, with you sitting sideways on his lap. 

You nuzzle your head into his chest, and Sylus’s lips come down to the top of your head, breathing in your scent and ghosting kisses into your hair. Your hands reach up to weave into his silver tresses, playing with his soft locks and delicately massaging his scalp. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, voice muffled against his skin.

When Sylus doesn’t respond, you pull away from him and look up at him expectantly. He appears to be lost in the feeling of your fingers. 

“You never said please, you could at least say thank you,” you tease, poking his soft cheek with your finger. 

Sylus looks down at you, amused danger flickering in the deep orbs of crimson. His hand leaves your thigh, slowly and tortuously crawling up your skin until he cups your face. You shiver, suddenly feel like you’re staring into the face of danger. 

“Hmm, isn’t it customary to say thank you after eating?” 

You crinkle your brows in confusion at his cryptic words, waiting for him to elaborate further. Sylus’s smug grin widens, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, basking in the excited fear brimming in your bleary eyes. 

“I’ve yet to finish my meal, little dove.” 

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

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[revasserium]

hi! I've been reading your opla!zoro stuff and I wanted to tell you your writing is so gorgeous! it's truly breathtaking, you're really talented ❤️ i've looked through your prompts tag, im not sure how requesting works, but could I ask for "edge of falling" or "the spaces between us" (whichever one you like the most) with zoro and fem!reader? i'm a goner for longing and feelings realization and the prompts give me those vibes, but i'm sure anything you write will be lovely <3

reqs are open!

the edge of falling

opla!zoro; 7,475 words; fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, passing mentions of: cult!, physical violence, & trauma/cult-programming, ex-cult member!reader, strawhat!reader, traumatized!reader, protective!zoro, healing from past trauma, learning to trust etc, angst with a happy ending!, a metric TON of plot

summary: "Lie to me," Time said to Love; Love smiled and said, "I promise, I'll never let you slip away."

a/n: thank u for the request anon!!! i uhm idk what happened with this fic tbh. there's def uh -- longing of SOME kind here??? welp. pls read the tw list! there's some dark-ish content in this. but i promise it ends well u__u

prelude: in which a fox teaches you to speak

Time is the greatest liar, so you are told, over and over and over. For the longest time, you think it’s the only truth you’ll ever know.

But we will live forever…

So long as you do the things you’re told. So long as you make the Fox happy. So long, so long, so long.

There is no way to mark the passage of time in the compound; with no sunlight to guide the way, you are left to other, more primal ways of keeping track — that elusive, silver-fish creature — time — always slipping through your fingers when want to hold on most.

You measure it in wounds, in the time it takes for a fresh wound to seal over, for the scab to break and reveal the soft, tender pink flesh beneath. You measure it in gulps of water, in bites of cold food, in the droplets of artificial rain that they let fall through the ceiling sometimes. You measure it in rewards too, in long baths and hot meals, in the evenings when the Fox would tell you stories in his low, lilting voice instead of leaving you in his seething silences.

And he is ever so good with stories. If you stay still and keep quiet, and let his voice wash over you like a hungry tide across a rain-starved beach, you can feel the words seeping into your bones, ringing out till they feel like nothing but god’s given truth.

As long as you’re good… I promise I’ll make you live forever.

Like this, you learn the weapon of words, the power of speech, how to listen for lies, and how to tell them, and tell them, and tell them.

The Fox is good at lying; you’ll just have to learn to be better.

act i: yet another sad, desperate soul

Roronoa Zoro has never been a man of many words, but it would be remiss to say that he isn’t a man of his word — you see, when he does speak, he speaks with intention. And always, with conviction.

“Hey. No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, then, is the first lie he tells you.

“Liar.�� You spit out the word, drawing back, your body a tangle of livewire nerves, your eyes darting back and forth, an entire life’s worth of fight and flight caught on the hair-pin trigger of his breath as he jolts back slightly and blinks at you.

“Y-you — you can’t know that,” you say, your voice still ragged. But Zoro sees it for the attempt it is — an olive branch, however tentatively extended. And he takes it, wordlessly.

He nods once, reaching out to help you up. The compound crumbles around you, and you unconsciously wrap your arms around yourself, as if to hold yourself together, to keep from shattering into a hundred million tiny little shards of pain and mistrust.

“The fox-guy’s dead! But it looks like this whole island’s gonna blow!” Nami races out of the massive, temple-esque structure just as it starts to collapse from the inside out.

Luffy slingshots passed, cackling as Sanji and Usopp bring up the rear. On the Merry, Robin and Chopper are waiting, and the second Zoro manages to hoist you onto the main deck, the ship careens off into the dark tumult of waves.

You skitter away the minute Zoro’s arm slips from around your waist, and he turns to find you pressing yourself back against the railings, staring at them all with wide eyes, your expression caught halfway between fear and consternation. He takes half a step back, crossing his arms just as Luffy bounds forward with a bright, unassuming smile.

“Don’t worry! You’re safe now!” He makes to slap one of your shoulders but you duck out of the way, chewing on your bottom lip.

Robin clears her throat gently and offers you a smile, “We’re not going to hurt you.”

You narrow your eyes, your gaze darting between them like a trapped animal, but after another beat of stillness (punctuated only by Nami swearing softly to herself as she steers the Merry around a particularly difficult formation of rocks), your entire body seems to soften, and Zoro uncrosses his arms again, resting a hand casually on the hilt of his blades.

“Th-thank you…” you bob your head once, swallowing hard passed chapped lips and a raw throat. Your white linen dress is stained with blood and dirt, a tear at your collar making it slip from your shoulder.

“’S alright now, darlin’ — how bout we run you a nice, hot bath? I could cook you just about anything y’like. Fancy a drink as well? I think a bubbly would be good for a —”

“Lay off, cook.” Zoro cuts Sanji off with a scoff, barring Sanji’s approach with an arm in the gut.

You watch them with dark eyes, your expression curiously blank.

“Will you let me look at your wounds?” Chopper offers.

You jump a little at his voice, piping up from your left side. You glance at Zoro once before looking back at Chopper and nodding.

Sanji tucks his hands into his pockets and watches as Chopper leads you beneath the deck, Zoro following a few steps behind. He lights a cigarette as soon as the trap door clanks shut.

A beat of silence, and then —

“Wow, that island really, really sucked!” Luffy says, turning back to his crew.

Sanji lets out a puff of smoke as Usopp slumps down against the main mast with a groan.

“You can say that again.”

“What happened?” Robin asks.

Sanji sighs, shaking his head, “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

Below deck, Chopper dabs at your wounds with expert ease as you sit very still on the kitchen island and Zoro watches from the sofa, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“These surface wounds aren’t that bad but…” Chopper trails off, his eyes running over the network of old scars that mar your skin, layers and layers of them — down your arms and along your torso.

“It’s fine,” you say, your voice smooth as polished marble, “I’m —” you swallow, “I’m fine.”

And if it weren’t for the hiccup, the slight hitch in your breath, you would’ve been utterly convincing. Your expression is flat, your voice, even more so.

Across the room, Zoro makes disbelieving noise, “If it hurts, just say so. Chopper’ll fix it.”

“I’m… I’m fine,” you say again, tugging at the sleeve of your torn shift, your tone now a bit more honest, your words tired and resigned. Zoro looks to Chopper, who gives a faint nod of acquiescence before Zoro stands up and jerks his head towards the door.

“Cook’s right — you should wash up before dinner.”

You follow him down the hallway, through a small door that leads into a washroom that’s much cleaner than one might expect a ship’s bathroom to be. A large, wooden soaking tub sits in the middle of the room, and a clean change of clothes has already been laid out on a bench next to the bath.

Zoro grunts after he takes a once-over of the room, satisfied that all’s in order, and makes to leave.

You tug at his sleeve, head lowered.

“Can you…” you lick your lips, “can you stay?”

Zoro glances down at your fingers curled into his shirt sleeve before his eyes flick up to find your face. You’re looking at some indiscriminate point over his left shoulder, but your lips are trembling and your jaw is set.

He lets out a long breath, slowly twisting his body towards the room and you.

“Sure.”

He makes a show of turning around to face the door as you slip off your clothes and sink into the steaming bath water. A long exhale and the light slosh of water is all the indication he gets that it’s safe to turn back around.

He leans himself against the door, his swords propped on his shoulder, his head lolled back, his eyes closed.

He listens to the soft sounds of the water, to the faint splashes as you rub the grit and grime from your skin, inch by inch.

“We were only allowed to bathe as a reward for doing a good deed.”

Your voice makes him open his eyes, his gaze focusing in on the shape of you, nearly submerged in the bathtub, your hair slick and sticking to your pale shoulders. Even in this dim lighting, he can see the patterns your scars make against your skin. Water glimmers along the contours of your face as you run your palms along your cheeks, rubbing at them till they’re ruddy with color.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Quit bein’ so rough,” he moves forward without thinking, reaching out a hand to help you with some of the more stubborn pieces of dirt but he pauses, realizing how utterly still you’ve gone.

You stare at him for a long moment before relaxing back into the water and shifting towards the edge of the tub to allow him better access.

He runs a callused thumb along your cheekbones, wiping away the remaining dirt there.

“What was a ‘good deed’?” he asks, letting the tips of his fingers skim the warm water’s surface.

You shrug, “Mostly anything that made Mr. Fox happy… so all of us would —” you take another breath, your hand opening and closing beneath the surface of the still bath water, “we’d spend all our waking hours trying to think of something — anything — that’d please him. No matter how small… no matter how… terrible.”

“This Mr. Fox… what was his deal, anyway?”

You stare down into the dark water, now rapidly cooling from warm to lukewarm.

You take a deep breath, lifting a hand out of the water to distort the image of your ghostly reflection.

“He… was a liar. Except… he could make all his lies sound like the truth.”

“It was uncanny, really,” Sanji says, now at full throttle in the kitchen prepping for dinner service, Usopp lounging on sofa, his feet propped up on the hanging table.

Chopper and Robin both frown.

“What do you mean?” Robin asks.

“It was like… the guy could say anything and make it sound like the truth — even though you knew somewhere inside you that it can’t be real. Like — he could tell you the sky was green and every single part of you would believe him, even though you’re outside and starin’ up at the sky.”

“Yeah! Like he said I’d never be able to beat him and… for a second, I kinda almost believed him!” Luffy offers, munching on a bushel of apples and spitting out the seeds.

Robin’s brows furrow, tapping at her chin with a thin finger.

“It sounds like the Uso-Uso no Mi…”

“Ugh, what a weird, scary power…” Chopper shudders, shaking his head, his tiny hooved hands coming up to cup his cheeks, “I’m sure it’d mess with people’s heads!”

“It sure did. But he also used it to feed false information to the Marines,” Nami says, slipping through the half-opened door to join the rest of the crew on the sofa, “ran a series of taverns that just so happened to be situated in major Marine towns.”

Sanji glances up from a huge, steaming pan of paella, a cigarette caught between his teeth.

“So what was his end goal then? Just to fuck over the Marines?”

Back in the bathroom, you run your fingers along the edge of the tub as if playing an invisible piano.

“Power, domination… I don’t think he had a goal or purpose… I think… he just got off on it…”

Your voice is light, conversational, almost as if you were talking about the weather. But Zoro sees the glazed look in your eyes, the tightness at the edges of your lips.

“You called me a liar,” he says, reaching into the tub and flicking you lightly with a bit of water.

You blink, a smile threatening the corners of your mouth.

“Yeah… guess I did.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

He pulls out his hand and wipes it on a towel, leaning back to stare at you.

You shrug, “Sometimes… people lie to others, and sometimes, people lie to themselves. It’s the ones we tell ourselves that are always the most convincing.”

“I don’t lie. ‘Specially not to myself.”

You let out a tiny laugh, “But I guess… sometimes, if you believe in something hard enough… it’ll just start to be come the truth.”

There’s a note of… something in your voice that Zoro doesn’t like, but he can’t put a name to the feeling so he stays quiet as you continue the laborious work of scrubbing your skin clean, till all the water in the tub’s gone cold.

The rest of the evening passes as most evenings on the Merry do after a big fight — with a lot of food and even more booze. With music and laughter, and new crew member, sitting in the corner, watching mostly and smiling occasionally. No one pushes you, though Sanji does make a valiant effort in getting you to admit to your favorite foods, and Luffy tries two or three times to drag you into the more raucous celebrations (mostly involving way too much meat being roasted on a spike).

No one questions the way Zoro never wanders too far.

No one questions the way your eyes track him around the room, or how, even when Robin and Nami finally get a laugh out of you, you still instinctively searched for Zoro’s figure till you’ve found it in the other corner, a bottle caught between his lips, his eyes half-shut but his gaze caught on you like a fish to a seaman’s hook.

act ii: everything and nothing

A week passes, and then another. And you slowly, but surely, come out of your shell — it’s a strange sort of blossoming, the way you reveal yourself in shards and pieces, jagged and jarring. The shrapnel bits of your personality peaking out amidst the flotsam and jetsam of all your manifold defense mechanisms.

You’re a brilliant liar, but even better at spotting a lie, and it’s a thing that none of the crew had ever really thought about until you’d come along, casually poking holes in their daily deceits.

“Mm! These pancakes are perfect! Just the way I like them!”

“The new dress looks beautiful, Nami.”

“I absolutely did not finish the last bag of popcorn… Luffy did it!”

You clear your throat.

“Okay fine… the pancakes were really good but… but I like them… sweeter.”

“The dress is… well, everything looks gorgeous on you, of course, you know that Nami! But — the color… clashes just a tiny little bit with your… hair.”

“I might’ve uh… taken a few bites out of the popcorn bag… last night… but I was keeping watch and I needed to keep my energy up!”

Robin titters, a sphinx-like smile spreading across her lips.

“Apparently, 60% of people lie at least once every 10 minutes,” she says, casually taking a sip of orange juice as Zoro runs through his daily training regime, seemingly unbothered by the chaos currently taking place on the main deck regarding the “popcorn incident”.

“Dunno why people bother,” Zoro says, working through a set of single-armed burpees.

“I suppose it’s just human nature. We want other people to like us… so we say what we think they might want to hear, instead of what we really think. It’s harmless, mostly,” Robin remarks, leaning back against a white planter box, basking in the shade of the tangerine trees.

“Till it isn’t,” Zoro says, finishing up his workout and pushing himself up for a long stretch. He casts his eyes once more towards where you’re now laughing as Usopp tries to think of some new tall tale to tell.

It only takes you half a second to turn your head, and Zoro wonders at the kind of life you might’ve led to make you so sensitive to another person’s gaze. What must’ve happened to warrant this kind of alertness? But then again, he’d been a hunter long enough to know exactly what being hunted looks like.

He caught a glimpse of it at the compound but — still, his fingers itch toward his swords, his jaw clenches tight enough for Robin to cock her head and raise a brow.

“Yes… until it isn’t…” she echoes, her eyes also trailing towards you.

Zoro holds your gaze for a second before rolling his shoulders and looking away, squinting at the far horizon.

“Oi. Looks like trouble.”

Robin straightens, and a second later, Chopper sounds the alarm from the crow’s nest.

“Marines! Marines!”

There is the shink of swords being drawn, the gentle echo of Robin’s voice as her arms multiply. There’s canon fire and a lot of yelling. But at the end, there’s only bodies and blood and the tattered remains of the Marine’s ship, bobbing in the stained sea below them.

“Should we go after them?” Sanji asks, lighting up a cig, watching as the tiny emergency boat rows off into the distance.

“Nah. We’ll be alright!” Luffy says, wiping a hand across his nose.

Zoro turns towards you, sheathing his swords.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you say, your voice immediately taking on an unctuous sheen that makes Zoro take a step closer.

“You hurt anywhere?” he runs an appraising eye down your form and nods in the knowledge that at least you don’t look hurt.

“No… I —” you chew down on your bottom lip, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your arms. But you back away from him the moment he tries to take a step forward.

“Hey — quit that,” he taps at your wrist with the hilt of his sword, the touch hard but not harsh, forcing you to pull away.

“It’s — I’m — I’m alright,” you say, insistent and mollifying. Zoro runs his thumb against the hilt of his blades and scoffs.

“Liar,” he says, tossing the word casually back at you in a way that makes your breath hitch. Then, he turns, and marches below decks to tend to his own wounds.

A deafening silence rings out around you as you stare down at the ships blood-drenched planks before Robin places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“C’mon now — lets get your back looked at.”

Below decks, you find Zoro dabbing gingerly at a large slash on his right arm.

“Here, you’ve missed a spot —” you reach out to take the iodine soaked cloth from Zoro’s hand, only to have him jerk away. You flinch back, wide-eyed.

Zoro softens, if only ever so slightly.

“I’m fine,” he says, a harsh edge to his voice as he goes back to trying to twist around himself enough to see the spot he’s missed. You purse your lips, watching him for a second, two seconds, three — before you glance back at the place Robin had been only to realize that she’d gone.

“May… I?” you reach out your hand, palm up, tentative and imploring. But you hold yourself still, waiting for Zoro to make the next move. And he does, eventually, sighing as he turns back around to drop the piece of cloth into your palm.

You reach forward as he turns to his side, offering up his arm as you slowly start to wipe away at the bits of dried blood caking his skin to reveal the raw, red gash, the angry, raised flesh around it. You lean forward, blowing slightly as you daub at the wound, making your way down his bicep till the entire cut’s been coated in iodine.

“There. All done.”

You lean back to toss the cloth into the sink but Zoro stops you. He catches your wrist in his good hand and with a slight tug, has you toppling forward towards his chest.

“Turn around.”

His voice is soft, but firm. And it leaves no room for protests as you stare at him for a long moment before sighing and resigning yourself to your fate. You turn to show him your back.

A disgruntled huff is all you get before you hear the distinct sounds of Zoro rummaging around the first aide kit for a fresh piece of cloth, and the pop of the iodine bottle opening again.

“Who did this?” he asks as he slowly reaches out to tug a thin spike from your skin, small as a needle and just as sharp. You bite back a wince.

“The porcupine guy…” your voice trails off as Zoro grunts.

“Right.”

He tugs out another spike; it tinks against the metal of the sink as he tosses it away. A brief sting, and then the cooling feeling of the iodine cloth.

After a few minutes of working in silence, Zoro sighs.

“Geez, he really got you bad, didn’t he?”

“Not really,” you say, and you feel Zoro’s hands pause.

“No?”

You shake your head, “I’ve… been through much worse… and lived to tell the tale so…”

Zoro doesn’t need to ask to know that you’re talking about your past on the island, inside that windowless compound. He can see it in the scars that mar nearly the entirety of your back, the criss-cross lines of what looks like knife-wounds, the occasional puckered marks that look suspiciously like burns. He steels himself then, and continues to work — plucking out a spike and cleaning out the wound.

“You were right,” he says, when he finally finishes cleaning up your back and you both straighten to face each other. He wipes his hands clean and winces slightly as he flexes his newly bandaged arm.

“Right about what?” your voice is innocent, but the flash in your eyes tells him that you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“That first day — I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t… make sure that no one ever hurt you again.”

His fingers curl into fists at his sides and you can see the muscle ticking in his jaw as he clenches his teeth.

You reach out, tracing a thumb along his jawline. When you pull back, there’s a small daub of blood on your finger and you wipe it away without breaking his gaze.

“No, you couldn’t but… you tried.”

Zoro scoffs, “Tryin’s not good enough.”

“No,” you jerk up to glare at him, your voice harsh in a way that he’s only ever heard right after they’d rescued you, the edges of your words raw and ragged as a serrated blade, “trying is everything.”

interlude: truth or dare

It gets better after that, and you grow and bloom and grow some more. Zoro does too, though in his own way — he gets stronger, gets faster, hits harder. And though you two never quite agree on anything, he is always by your side, and you’re somehow always by his.

“’M not even a lil drunk —”

“Liar~” you singsong, giggling as Zoro shakes his head, tipping the remains of a bottle of sake back down his throat before wiping at his lips with the back of his hand.

“Mm… ‘s that all I am to you? Just another guy who lies?” Zoro swings lazily on the hammock hung on the main deck, his eyes half-lidded and alight with the dancing firelight.

“Stupid question — drink,” you answer, bringing our own bottle up to your lips.

Zoro laughs, quiet and pleased as he reaches for a new bottle.

“Alright then — truth or dare?” he asks, uncorking the new bottle and reaching out to offer you some. You bat him away, your movements languid and heavy, your back pressed against a heavy wooden barrel, one leg propped up to support your arm, the other stretched out long and lithe in front of you.

“Truth,” you say, your voice easy, your smile even more so.

“Alright then — do you trust me?” Zoro’s voice dips, and your eyes flash up. There’s a sobering light somewhere behind the alcohol soaked haze clouding his gaze and you can tell by the steadiness of his hands that he’s not nearly as drunk as he might seem.

“What do you mean?” you ask, casually evading the question.

Zoro tuts, “’S not an answer.”

“I’m asking for a clarification.”

Zoro shakes his head, taking another soft swig, “Simple question — do you trust me?”

You purse your lips, mulling over the myriad answers you could provide and make it sound like the truth. But that’s not really how the game goes. So instead, you take a deep breath.

“I — I want to,” and it’s the way your voice breaks that makes it honest, the way you can’t hold the truth in by the seams of your careful cadence, no matter how hard you try to smooth out the ragged edges.

“So… that’s a no,” Zoro says, keeping his tone even. You can’t help reaching for him — imploring.

“Not yet but —”

“Why?”

“Why… what?”

“I guess…” Zoro leans back, casting his eyes up at the wild, dark sky, careening above the ship in an ecstatic spread of stars and, long sinuous, moon-silvered clouds, “why d’you want to trust me? Doesn’t seem like something you’d be eager to do after… y’know, everything.”

You lick your lips and stare into the empty bottom of your glass.

“Honestly?” you say, “because you’re kind of a shit liar —”

Zoro lets out a soft, rumbling laugh, but doesn’t deny it.

“But… also because you’re the only person I’ve met who… who treats words so carefully — I mean…” you swallow, leaning forward slightly as Zoro drops his gaze back down to you, “it’s like — my whole life has just been people saying things they don’t really mean, and never meaning what they say, and then trying to figure out what’s really happening — trying to say the right thing, not the thing you mean but the thing you think they’d want to hear —” your breath quickens, “and — and if you don’t or if you’re bad at it, then bad things happen to you and the people you care about —”

“Hey.”

A hand presses down on your shoulder and you gasp, your breath knifing through your chest as you clasp your shaking hands to your sternum.

“Breathe. You’re okay.”

You nod, unable to say anything as Zoro sits in front of you, his hand like an anchor in a summer storm, keeping you tethered.

You breathe and take stock of your limbs — feet, legs, hands, arms. It’s then that you realize Zoro’s crouching in front of you, your drink glass resting by his side.

“Thanks,” you say, nodding as he gives your shoulder a slight squeeze before pulling away. Physical touch has never been one of your strong points, and it seems Zoro’s learned that without you ever having to tell him.

It’s strange — the sudden knowledge that somehow, his understanding of you has been wordless and implicit. Complete, from nearly the day the Straw Hats had picked you up on that island. You’d never had to explain, never had to draw your boundaries.

And yet somehow, he knew. As if he’d always just known.

“Truth or dare?” you ask him, your voice barely a whisper, shifting to make more space for him on the dark deck of the ship’s forecastle. Zoro sits down in front of you, crossing his legs.

“Dare.”

You don’t fight the grin as it lifts the side of your lips.

The quiet pulses between the pair of you like a heartbeat.

“Tell me a secret.”

“Gotta be more specific,” Zoro’s grin lilts to mirror your own.

“Any secret,” you say, “something you… something you wouldn’t otherwise say out loud.”

“Isn’t that what a secret’s supposed to be? Something you don’t say?”

You laugh, tasting the sound like a mouthful of champagne, bubbling up through you and spiraling towards the endless summer’s night.

“Quit stalling!”

“Think I wanna kiss you.”

A gasp slices through the air between you. You feel the weight of it in your throat, the white-hot flicker of his gaze as he glances down at your lips. You wet them without thinking, and as Zoro lean’s in, you can sense the night around you slowly coalescing into something warm, something solid. Like a marble clutched in a child’s palm, or a pearl held on an oyster’s velvet tongue.

“Truth or dare?” he asks.

He stops just short of your lips, his nose almost grazing yours. You can nearly taste the sweet sake on his breath —

“Dare.”

“Close your eyes.”

Your lashes flutter and for a second, an eternity revolves in the space between your heartbeats. Faintly, you register the gentle rocking of the ship as an indolent wave catches her starboard side.

You close your eyes.

For a second, there is space. For a second, there is breath. For a second, there is gravity. And then — all of that disappears. All of it eclipsed by the kiss. And then, the kiss is all there is.

All there was, and ever will be.

There’s a graze of fingers against skin, the bump of legs against legs against thighs against knees — there’s knuckles and noses and hair falling, hair being tugged into closing fists. There’s the clink-clink-clink of earrings, and the clatter-clap-clat of swords and hilts and rough, wooden planks.

There’s the dull thunk and baseline rumble of a glass being knocked over and rolling away.

But all of that is afterthought. All of that is supplement, a postscript, marginalia and footnotes.

Because there, then — there is only the kiss, and nothing but the kiss: a catastrophe of inevitability, smooth as a secret, and whisper-sweet.

When the pair of you pull away, there’s a chaos of wings against your ribcage.

There’s the honeyed, lambent light in Zoro’s eyes as he grins down at you.

“Truth — or dare,” a breathless gasp punctuates your words.

Zoro’s grin only grows as he tips your chin back between his thumb and forefinger.

“Dare.”

It’s only then that you realize his cheeks are wine-flushed, his chest rising and falling nearly as fast as yours. You swallow slow and track his eyes as he watches the pale bob of your throat.

“Kiss me again.”

act iii: fool’s gold

It takes all of three hours for Sanji to get something out of Zoro, and three days before Robin and Nami manage to wheedle something out of you.

“No seriously! Things have been different since that one party we had —” Nami presses her palm to the kitchen table, here eyes wide. Robin sits on the couch, her expression one of mixed amusement and near academic interest.

“Different how?” you reach into the cookie jar and fish out a crumbled corner of what used to be a double chocolate chip cookie.

“Ugh! You know what I mean!” Nami turns to Robin, motioning towards you, “Help me here!”

Robin laughs, tossing up a graceful hand, “I suppose something does seem… changed.”

“Something?” you ask, licking at a smudge of chocolate on your thumb.

“Well…” Robin says, drawing out the syllable and making to examine the nails on her long, thin fingers, “it’s definitely not nothing.”

You allow yourself a smile, “Something’s definitely not nothing.”

Nami lets out a frustrated groan, but she’s smiling too.

It’s been long enough that you’d learned to relax around them, and you’d since also learned that nothing is so sacred as the sanctity of sisterhood. That bonds between friends might be forged in fire and brimstone, but bonds between women are forged in cinder and smoke — in the wreckage of after, when the fighting’s been done and all that’s left is the mending.

“What’s all this giggling about?” Zoro ducks into the half-ajar door, staring at the three of you.

Nami cocks an eyebrow; Robin shrugs.

You, for your part, smile and bat your lashes.

“Oh nothing,” you say.

“Just girl-talk,” offers Nami.

“Nothing to interest a legendary swordsman like yourself,” Robin polishes off.

Zoro’s eyes narrow, his gaze jumping between the three of you before it lands on you and he scoffs.

“Yeah, whatever. We’re docking soon.”

And that’s all he offers before sauntering back out of the room, leaving the door swinging behind him, but not before you catch sight of the redness at the tips of his ears as he hurries away.

You give it a beat of three seconds before pushing to your feet and following after, humming to yourself. Behind you, Nami and Robin share a knowing look.

“Definitely not nothing,” Robin says as she stands to follow you.

The island, if it can even be called that, is nothing more than a rough conglomeration of steep cliffs strapped together by a thin band of land barely wide enough to be categorized as a beach.

“Well! This is something!” Luffy declares, his arms akimbo on his hips as he stares at the island.

“Yeah… it’s uh… something for sure,” Usopp agrees, making a face as he squints at the cluster of rocks that look more like the jagged edges of a broken bottle than any kind of proper land formation.

“We’ll just anchor here for the night… get some good rest, and then...” Sanji’s words trail off, interrupted by a ghostly wail that rises from the gathering of dark cliffs, turning them into an echo chamber until it seems to rumble through the sand beneath them.

“… gold, all gold! — no, not a liar — please!”

A shiver etches itself up your spine and instinctively, you wrap your arms around yourself.

Zoro steps out in front of you, as if to shield you from whatever might come. His thumb presses against the hilt of his swords, his shoulders tense as corded wire.

“Uh… everyone else heard that too, right?” Chopper asks, peaking out from around Robin’s legs.

“Yep. Definitely not just you,” Sanji confirms.

Luffy grins, “Seems like there’s someone else on this island! Maybe they can show us around!”

Time passes by strangely on the island — one minute, the sun is still hanging low on the far horizon, and the next, the sky is the color of a bullet wound, darkness seeping in around the horizon.

“Whoever’s here on the island — they sure aren’t making it — easy —” Sanji grunts as he hoists himself up a slippery piece of rock face, sweat glistening on his forehead as he squints into the looming blackness.

“Luffy? You sure you know where we’re going?” Nami shouts, her voice ringing back in a way that makes everyone wince and cover their ears.

Zoro grabs your elbow a second before you slip, fingers digging into your flesh even as you steady yourself against him.

“Sorry — thanks,” you say, unsure of which one you really mean.

“Yeah! I can smell something — like a campfire! And… cooking!” Luffy’s voice calls back from somewhere in the gathering dark. Everyone shares a glance before bracing themselves and trudging on.

By the time you all catch up to Luffy, no one is certain of what time it is, only that it’s dark. But the kind of darkness that seems to cling to the skin — a darkness so dense it starts to take on shape and weight.

It presses in around you and you feel your breaths shortening in your chest.

Beside you, Zoro reaches out to brace a hand at the small of your back.

“Oh! I see a light ahead! C’mon!” Luffy’s voice rings out from somewhere up ahead, followed by the patter of sandals on stone. The rest of you follow, and then all too suddenly, light flickers to life in what seems to be a huge, subterranean cave deep within the cliffs of the island. It casts stark shadows against the slick, cavernous walls.

You frown, goosebumps rising along your arms and legs.

But before you have time to dwell on the wrongness of something there, Luffy’s voice snags your attention like a thread on an errant splinter.

“Hi! Oh, wow — that looks delicious!”

You turn a corner to find Luffy hunkering down over a blazing campfire and the silhouette of someone sitting opposite him, a sharp spike held out in front of them, turning slowly over the flickering flames.

“Oh… please… come join me — sit and listen to a story — I have so many stories — so many adventures to share!” the figure across the fire seems to quiver with the dancing flames, his voice filling up the whole of the cave, loud and boisterous and eager. But strange and hollow too.

You frown, chewing on the insides of your cheeks.

Ahead of you, Usopp and Chopper both take tentative seats next to Luffy, who had cheerfully plopped down next to the fire.

“Wow, this looks great! Are you here by yourself? I’m here with my crew! Are you a pirate too?” Luffy asks, his endless enthusiasm pouring from him like a spring.

Robin, Nami, and Sanji all hold back, but you take a step forward, and then another. Something compelling you towards the voice, pulling you closer. There’s a desperation, a loneliness with which you’re all too familiar — you inch closer, and then closer, till you’re almost level with Luffy, and you lower yourself to the ground next to him, Zoro dropping down beside you, his knee pressing against your leg in a silent reassurance.

“Come… come closer! It’s a good story — I promise!”

“Truth,” you mutter, just beneath your breath. Beside you, Zoro lets out a puff of breath, though his stance doesn’t loosen.

Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of the rest of the crew drawing just a step closer.

“Once upon a time… there was a city on an island where everything, and I mean everything was made of gold!”

The figure across the fire sounds cheered, elated even. Behind you, you feel Nami take half a step closer. Cold seeps into your veins despite the warm, dancing flames, and your fingers dig into the hard packed earth beneath you.

“I found it — I did! With my crew — the best sailors and seamen around! But the king… he was greedy! And he wanted his own men to take the treasures, so he forced me to lead them to the city again —”

“Truth,” you say again, but something in the tone of the figure’s voice makes you frown.

“Except… the city had gone… and there was nothing left… nothing but lies!”

You shudder back, swallowing hard. All around you, the darkness presses in with long, thin tendrils like so many loving fingers. The fire flares up, casting sparks up towards the cave’s ceiling, where stalagmites hang like broken teeth in a petrified monster’s maw.

“Oh… don’t be scared… come back — I won’t hurt you —”

“Liar!” you spit, the word scraping its way out of your throat.

Zoro leaps to his feet just as Luffy does the same. The fire flares again, a second before snuffing itself out, but in that second, you finally catch sight of the figure, hooded in shadow, sitting across from you — it has the shape of a man, tall and broad, but the limbs of a spindle-legged monster. It wears the darkness like a cloak, with beady, red eyes and a too-wide mouth.

“Don’t! Call me a liar! That’s what they called me — that’s what they called when they killed me! KILLED ME FOR TELLING THE TRUTH!”

You scramble back, Zoro nearly lifting you off the ground in his haste to pull you away. Luffy whips back his arm and swings it forward but all it catches is tendrils of shadow.

“Hey! That’s not nice!” he shakes off his fist, frowning as he stares at the bits of wriggling darkness still clinging to his skin.

“Run!” you shout as everyone bolts for the lightless path you all took to get to the heart of the cave.

“NOT A LIAR! NOT A LIAR! I FOUND IT! THE CITY! BELIEVE ME! BELIEVE ME!”

You clap your hands around your ears and race for what you hope is the exit. Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of Zoro’s blades whistling through the air*.*

“Damnit! How’dyou fight a shadow? There’s nothin’ to hit!”

“Quit tryna hit it and just run!” Sanji’s voice answers a second before he breezes passed you.

“Why don’t you believe me? Why?!”

“We — I believe you!” you shout, your chest a thundering mess of footfalls and scrambling bodies, and against all instinct, you turn around to face the darkness again, cupping your hands around your mouth, “I believe you! I know — I know you’re telling the truth!”

“What’re you doing?” Zoro asks, leveling himself by your side, his arm pressing against yours. Behind you, the thinnest sliver of light is creeping into the cave from what you assume is the entrance.

Morning. Has it really been that long?

Time is the greatest liar, you remember, suddenly, violently, the thought tearing through you like teeth.

“I — he’s telling the truth,” you say through gritted teeth, even as you take a few steps back. Inside the cave, the figure seems to shrink back from the encroaching light.

“What truth?” Zoro asks, his blade held aloft, his stance wide and ready.

“All of it,” you say, forcing your voice to be gentle, turning your face back towards the darkness, “I know, I can hear it — I know you’re telling the truth — about the island, the city — all of it!”

“Yes… all I wanted was to get back to the city… but… no one believe me… and I died… I died for it!”

“I know, and I’m sorry… no one should be punished for telling the truth —” your voice cracks.

“I tried!”

“I know…” you say as the figure shrinks and shrinks and shrinks and the light behind you grows and grows and grows, until you can feel the warm seeping into the skin of your back.

“And trying is everything,” you say, biting your lip as Zoro wraps an arm around your waist.

“Come with me… I’ll take you to the city — we can go together!”

You shake your head, heat prickling at your eyes as you turn away from the darkness of the cave and towards the light of the oncoming day.

“Liar…” the word falls from you like a rock, or a tear, cast off the cliff that greets you and Zoro as you both stare over the edge. The rest of the crew is nowhere to be found, but Zoro’s arm is still around your waist, and you can feel his warm breath by your cheek.

“Hey — do you trust me?”

You look up; in the dawning, morning light, Zoro, with his sun-kissed skin and dark moss hair appears to be limned in gold.

And maybe it’s the air, or the sea, or simply the angry pieces of this jagged, left-behind island of shadows like broken teeth trying to tear apart the sky, conducting his voice into a cacophony of echoes that sing and scream through the crags and eves of the valley beneath — but the whole island seems to reverberate with the question —

Do you trust me?

You close your eyes and breath. When you open them again, your heartbeat is steady. And when you speak, the rising sun streaks the tips of the saw-toothed peaks in strokes of molten gold. The valleys beneath you conduct your answer into an entire single-syllabled symphony —

Yes.

You feel his arm tighten around your waist, the wind as it tangles soft fingers in your hair. All around you, everything is light, and light, and light.

“Jump!”

You close your eyes, and jump.

-----

footnotes/appendix

uso-uso no mi translates to "lie-lie fruit"; i made it up bc it would be too op to have in the actual animanga i think

the "acts" refer to a classical 3-act structure that most movies/plays/scripts are written in: setup, confrontation, and resolution... with a smattering of other things sprinkled in for ~vibes~

in much of classical japanese and chinese mythology, foxes are associated with trickers and lies, often turning into beautiful women to deceive men, luring them into forests and mountains before taking their lives

the "figure" in the last scene is... can you guess? noland! kudos to anyone who figured it out as they were reading *\ (>o<) /*

did i absolutely take the "do you trust me" line from disney's aladdin??? HELL YEAH i did !!!! tru trust is my kink u__u

[arminsumi]

Saw this and thought... Mafia AU Gojo & Geto 👀

Share a piece of your juicy brain thoughts please, I'm collecting all the scraps 😗

PRETTY THING LIKE YOU.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ 𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑

NOTE: OH TO BE IN THAT CAR 🛐 anyways, these are just... messy ideas pls forgive me!! 🥲 idk how to write for mafia stuff but i adore the idea sm i wanted to say a lil smth about it

WARNINGS — fem reader, you're Toji's daughter, err mafia stuff warning idk?? implied kidnapping, implied light use of violence, Geto calling u nicknames (sweetheart, baby, etc), i made Gojo a meanie for some reason oops, some vague semblance of a plotline lol

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

Your dad is Toji Fushiguro, he sits on a big throne in this business. Everyone knows him, everyone's scared of him — why wouldn't they be? Except for these two particular men... who consider themselves the strongest 🙄 Big, big severely inflated egos they've got.

Toji hired Nanami to be the loyal bodyguard for his precious daughter. Why? Well, to put it simply — these two men are looking to take revenge on him with you as their playing card.

Geto and Gojo are on the hunt one night for you, and you fall right into their palms. Usually the black car with tinted windows has Nanami behind the wheel, ready to drive you home after a night out. But one night it's those two.

The drive is silent and uneasy. Gojo is flicking his gaze up at the rearview mirror to check you out with those piercing blue eyes of his. Geto is talking to you in a sickeningly saccharine sultry voice, nicknaming you sweetheart, princess, love, baby, etc... and trying his best to keep you calm with simple small-talk.

Gojo? He's more intimidating than his friend behind the wheel. He will not stop eyeing you out, even when you three end up in some fancy penthouse. You blink up at him innocently, it almost makes his heart lurch — he's wondering how such a pretty face came from such a bastard.

Whatever Toji did to them in the past, they were still seething over. Seems their idea of a revenge plot involved you. But you had no idea what to expect. They didn't have intent to hurt you — well, subtract Gojo pulling and pushing you around like a ragdoll when you weren't compliant enough. But Geto always scolded him.

In fact, Geto calmed the both of you so nicely. He put on water to boil and languidly stirred tea in the kitchen. It was surreal and bizarre in some way.

"Sweetheart, we're gonna be transparent with you. We're just keeping you here for a little while to get your dad's attention. You're gonna be treated like a princess, so don't you worry — " he lifted you by the chin so you had to look up at him, "A pretty thing like you isn't in trouble with us."

Gojo scoffed. He had his arms folded. Legs crossed. Spine slacked against the couch.

"Don't mind him, princess. He's just grumpy — your old man wasn't very kind to him in his youth." Geto explained super vaguely.

Gojo chuckled, "Yeah, you're damn right he wasn't kind to me. Sonofabitch wasted me."

"Well she had nothing to do with that, Satoru, so treat her good."

He grumbled in reluctant agreement. But the second Geto was out of sight, when Gojo led you to your bedroom, he entrapped you between two arms and practically pinned you to the wall.

"Listen — princess — " he mockingly impersonated Geto, "You keep those lips shut or I will shut them for you." he threatened, breathe fanning your face.

Well, it was hard to keep your lips shut. A week later, you woke up and went into the kitchen to find Gojo with a bloodstain in his white hair, Geto with a crimson splatter across his cheek, and a gun resting on the table that towered with green stacks of money. You didn't dare ask what was going on. You just looked at them until they said something from themselves.

"Don't worry." Geto's serene smile caught your worried gaze, "Just business, angel."

"What exactly-" you began, but Gojo gave you a sharp look and Geto immediately cut you off.

" — ah-ah, baby. We've already talked about this." he cooed. His smile had the vaguest sinister twist to it, "Keep that pretty mouth shut. No asking questions."

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey love! if you're still accepting requests, could I get an extremely wild, rough and feral nsfw Daemon x wife fem!reader please? (feel free to ignore and sorry if the request is weird, but I'm thirsty for this handsome fictional man who unfortunately doesn't exist)

Frost Bite

Daemon Targayen x Stark!Reader

Summary: You were travelling back to home soil in anticipation of your wolf's heat cycle. Besides the fact that you could not stand the sound of your prince husband's breathing and the fact you were certain he would perish in the cold, there was one more reason why you did not want him to join you: the fact the heat was affecting you too.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Basically PWP, 5k+ SMUT T_T (non-con [daemon touches her while she's asleep], virgin!reader, she cries for various reasons, fingering, choking, biting, degradation kink, corruption kink, spitting, marking, edging, oral [fem receiving], breeding kink, cream pie), RIP feminism, opens with a wet dream, brief mentions of near death experience in a snow storm, dark!daemon (but imo its just canon daemon) fem!reader, wife!Reader, soft!daemon, typos, etc.

A/N: YEAH MINORS DNI. LOL SO I was planning to write this for my part 2 of my Stark!Reader, but i got lazy and didn't want to create a whole plot leading up to the smut, so i removed it all together, which I guess worked out swell for you nonnie, since I was planning something absolutely unhinged. I hope you liked that fic of mine since you're basically getting a p3 of it So here's part 1, here's part 2, but you don't need to read any of them to understand, but i suggest you do for background cos lol this is PWP T_T Next part ig but its a blurb "✨Magic✨" OMG NEXT PART BUT ITS NOT A BLURB "Moon Cycle" Also nonnie, i wanted to tell you albeit asking for smut is pretty awkward HAHAHAH you gotta process these feelings somehow you know. i mean, we could have been criminals, like Daemon, instead but we're not, and that's what matters (unless you are a criminal in which case im closing my eyes) this gif of him is so large on pc but idc he's so hot MATT I WANT YOU SO BAD FUCK OFF if someone snitches to big brother again like in In Your Defense /: Idk if you want to be, but I'm tagging everyone I tagged in the previous fic, as well as the others that commented there SO HI THIS IS SMUT YOU CAN GO IF YOU WANT LOL HAHHAH @aralezinspace @em-the-lurker @blue1006 @mukduk-not-murder @min-jianhyung @deniixlovezelda @moonmaiden1996 @thatmysteriousblog

I caught him. I caught him doing the very thing I dreaded to catch him do. The one thing I accused him of doing every night, though in my heart of hearts I wished he did not... not that I would ever admit it to his face. Because why would I? Admitting it would mean- "You want me," Daemon heaved against the neck of the woman beneath him. He cranes his neck up as he thrust into her, smirking, eyes dark, "you want this to be you," he pants as he stares at me, "don't you?" I am in my place, frozen, watching and hearing the woman come undone underneath my husband who kisses her tenderly. "Daemon," I whimper helplessly, teary eyed, "Daemon please." "Fuck off."

I jolt awake, sweat sheening my neck and chest. I turn to my bed, empty, because though Daemon insisted we sleep together and I could not fight him in his decision, he did not return to me until nigh dawn.

I wipe my face as I recall my intensifying dreams.

It seems my travels up North would come quicker than anticipated.

And as much as I wanted to tell him I told you so, oh to all the gods, how badly he deserved it, there was no time for me to gloat when Daemon did the very thing I warned him not to, fall into the icy river.

It was instantaneous. The cracking of the ice, the splashing of water, the scream that escaped me. Maybe I should have left him in the cave we kept Caraxes, who he insisted on bringing. But then again he would have insisted on joining me to the cabin, the way he insisted on joining me here up North in the first place.

And now I had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

It was sheer miracle that I got him out of the river without falling into it myself, sheer stupidity of me to rid him of his coat and offer him mine when the blistering snow storm was not relenting, and quite clearly the sheer will of the gods that both of us made it to the cabin... barely.

The moment we walked in, I shut the door and scrambled towards the fireplace. As my fingers shivered, I thought of Havoc, and how at least I know she would find mine and Daemon's corpses if ever we do not make it. I had sent her away when the storm came out of nowhere because we had to find cover for Caraxes, and she would not have been any of help to us if she were here with us anyway.

My poor pup. She would be heartbroken if she saw me frozen. And Caraxes...

I curse the flint, I curse the cold, I curse the gods, and I curse Daemon for every time I failed to light a fire. I thanked the Stranger for finally allowing me the mercy of my eventual success.

Once the fire was burning steady, I get on my feet and run to Daemon, hauling him over to the fire roughly in haste where he helpelessly kneels in front of. He could do nothing but shiver as I scramble to get some dry clothes and sheets for the both of us.

I yank him closer to the fire and begin to undress him.

Seeing as he is nothing but docile to my actions and how his skin was turning grey, I began to grow frantic, "you cannot fucking die, you prick!"

I rip his top off and quickly clothe him, "I did not go through all the trouble of marrying you for nothing. I refuse to be forced into another marriage because your stupid ass froze to death."

Daemon's shudder comes out in a thick condensation.

"Fuck," I whimper, as I struggle to get him out of his boots and breeches.

I shrivel up at the feel of his frozen fingers then brush against my arm and I shake my head rapidly, realizing there was no choice. The only way I can warm him quickly enough is if I share my own.

I strip him naked, pulling off the shirt I struggled to put on him as well, then wrap him in a fur blanket in the meantime. I then take off my own clothes and hiss at the nipping cold.

The fact Daemon does not even look at my naked form strikes a chord in me.

I straighten him up and fix the blankets on his legs and thighs before I sit on his lap. I press my bare chest against his and whimper at his dangerously concerning coldness.

He shivers against me as his face rests helplessly on my shoulder. His breath that hits my skin is not even hot.

"Remember, you're too fucking stubborn to die," I say as I wrap my legs around his torso and graciously place his fingers beneath my bottom.

His lack of warmth literally brings tears to my eyes.

I reach out for the other blanket and wrap it over myself, consequently Daemon, before I wrap my arms around him and breathe hotly against his face.

I rub his back, "will you allow irony to take you? The hot blooded prince defeated by the cold?"

He releases a shiver and moves his head. He mutters something, but his quaking body does not allow me to make sense of it.

"Do not waste your energy," I chide.

And so for a long moment, we stay like this, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing each other's heat. I do my best to warm him. I even nuzzle against him, the way Havoc did me, just so I could warm his stupid face.

Daemon finally finds it in him to lean against my touch, and when he does, he mutters under his breath, "irony-" shudder, "-would be if the- N-Northern princ-ces-s-ss died in the cold."

My face contorts and yet I cannot help but chuckle at him, glad he can sputter his nonsense again, "then I should make Caraxes burn you for your stupidity."

I shiver when I feel his icy lips kiss my neck. Goosebumps form on my skin when I feel the hot breath that follows. My hands rake up to his nape, where I then dig my fingers as I pull away.

"N-n-nno!" he stutters, hands coming around my hips to brace me tightly, "I ss-swear I'm not warm yet-t-t."

I pull back again though to face him when I said, "I only wanted to tell you," I lean my forehead against his face, "I fucking told you so, you stupid idiot."

I rest my face on his shoulder and close my eyes, knowing I would not be off him any time soon.

I dream about him. I dream about kissing his shivers away. I dream about pulling the fur blanket that separated our legs away, and riding him until he was warm.

I dream about how good he feels, and how he burns inside me. I dream about calling his name, unlike how I did in my other dreams. I was no longer calling out in betrayal, I was calling out in pleasure.

Daemon.

Daemon.

"Daemon," I trail off in a groan, willing my heavy eyelids open. I feel pressure building up inside me before I understand what's happening.

I not know how, but I am laid on a bed, head on a pillow, form still naked. Daemon is sat up beside me, peering down at me and his hands.

I whine.

His fingers-

"Oh fucking hell," he groans as his other hand begins to knead at my breasts, "you feels so good wrapped around my fingers, I-"

I cut him off with my squeak, hands flying to his arm, thighs closing shut, squeezing this hand in between my thighs.

"Daemon," the dazed quality of my voice is gone.

He tilts his head, face twisting, a challenge.

When I struggle and wrangle against him, all it takes is his hand on my throat to make me go still. I barely manage a choke and my breath continues to leave me as his fingers quicken their pace inside me.

He only releases me after I shake and shudder when I come.

It is overwhelming and nothing at all like I have dreamed or imagined, unlike all the times I've touched myself in secret. It was intense but there was a shame tied to it.

My entire body is hot and tears prick my eyes at his relentless ministrations.

"You were too fucking ready for that," Daemon mutters dryly as he quickly pulls away and shifts in his spot, "how long have you imagined fucking me, hmm?"

Before I even have the brain to do something, he crawls down the bed, "was it when you caught me touching myself to you?" He sinks down, grabbing my legs, "or have you done it before and withheld me of your sweet cunt for no fucking reason?"

All at once, he brings his face between my legs and begins to lick all the slickness off my pulsing core.

"DAEMON!" I scream, pressing my thighs close as I push myself up on my elbows, trying to break free of him.

He ignores me and forces my legs open even as I kick them in protest, "you will not deny me something you so clearly want yourself."

He grunts and pushes my legs down before grabbing my hands that were shoving him away, "you fucking bitch," he grips me tightly, "you will not find it in yourself to fight me off once I make a whore out of you."

I growl at his words, feeling my stomach drop along with my tears because of it.

I was realizing just how strong he really was, and how in moments where our arguments got a bit physical, he has probably holding back. The revelation of this does not cease my attempts at freeing myself, but it is as pointless as I feared.

Daemon rises up from his spot, nearing me, up until he is breathing against my cheek and rubbing his hardened length against my wetness.

I turn away from him, unable to really do anything else and shudder as he speaks, "you said it yourself, you did not go through all this trouble marrying me for nothing."

I screw my eyes shut, feeling tears fall, "Daemon."

He shushes me, pulling my arms up above my head, "you should not worry. I refuse to die now that I know of your lust."

I whimper as he rolls his hips against me, "still, the idea of someone claiming you- fuck-" he groans gutturally, "had I died..." he trails of in another groan, "someone else would have gotten my prize and it would have been all be your fault."

Daemon squeezes my wrist in one hand then grabs my jaw, forcing me to turn to him. I keep my eyes shut though as he heaves hotly, "I should utterly ruin every part of you so you can never have anyone but me. Though make no mistake, I would never let that happen as I so fucking breathe."

"Hypocrite," I scoff.

He laughs and I tense at the feeling of his vibrations, "she speaks."

I dare to look at him as I pant, "you do not desire me. You're just a spoiled brat who merely wants to wet his cock, just like how you do every night."

"Oh," he groans, "is this jealousy I hear?" He squeezes my cheeks, "is my pretty whore jealous that she is not the only one?"

"Fuck you!" I manage out though muffled.

Daemon laughs at the feel of tears rushing down his fingers, "do not cry, foolish wife. I'll have you know I have not wet my cock ever since I called out your name when I fucked someone else before our wedding day."

He releases my face. I attempt to even out my breath.

"I hadn't even realized until she asked me who-"

"And you think you deserve an award for that?!" I quip through my heavy breathing.

He lets out a laugh that makes me whimper, "I think you ought to know that mine own want for you has made everyone else undesirable," he licks my cheek, making me pull my head away from him, "I have been so pent up in want and for what? Because you're too bull headed to allow me anything other than my lonely hand?"

I try to wrangle out of his grip again, and he presses his whole body on me in response, "it's quite adorable that you still have it in you act like you didn't just call my name out loud while you dreamt of fucking me."

He rubs his nose against my jaw, "you wanna know how I know?"

"Fuck off-"

"You were rutting against me like a hussy," he sighs, "by the gods, had I known you were so wanton at night, I would have never granted you the insult of sleeping alone."

I could feel myself burn hotter with each word that leaves his lips despite myself. I did not want him to catch me like this, but there was no use; I was already caught.

As Daemon rocks his hips on mine, he hisses, undoubtedly feeling how much wetter I had gotten was beneath him.

"Fuck," he trails off, "here's what going to happen," he whispers, rutting against me rougher.

I cannot for the life of me withhold my whimper.

He chuckles as he presses his face against mine, "I'm going to make you come with my tongue and then I'm going to fuck you until you cry."

"Daemon, please stop-"

"Your heartbeat against my cock and how fucking wet you are disagrees with your protest, little liar," he croons. He lifts his head, then leans his forehead against mine, "don't worry, my little virgin, you will not cry because it hurts, you will cry because you'll want it so bad that it hurts."

"Daemon-"

"You will not refuse me," he whispers, though it is anything but sweet, "not when there is not a sliver of doubt in my mind that you want this too."

He brings his hands to my neck again and I wait for his grip to tighten, but it does not, "now say it."

I look up at him as my breathing quickens.

"Yield," he commands, breathing heavily all of a sudden.

I look up at him feeling my belly swirl in ways I could not ever explain.

"Admit to both our ears that you burn for me just as I have been fucking burning for you."

I yelp when he puts pressure on my throat then releases it.

"Say it," he barks.

"I-"

"Say you want me," he says softer this time.

I am disarmed by his quick change in tone and a shiver leaves me as the cold finds its way to my belly as he pulls away. Daemon releases my hands then begins to crawl down. His eyes are fixed on my as he mutters once more, "say it."

I shudder as he presses my thighs against his cheeks then whispers, almost begging, "say it."

I turn away from him and close my eyes, awaiting his next actions, for it was not like I could stop him if I refuse.

"Say it," he urges louder, "you know you want to."

I clench my jaw, "just do what you want and be done with it."

He growls, and goosebumps form on my skin when I feel him bite at the inner most part of my thigh. I grip at the sheets at the feel of teeth and tongue. I bite my lips tightly to keep myself from making any noise.

"I should, shouldn't I?" Daemon mutters.

I yelp and look down at him when his finger strokes my core.

His eyes are dark as he airily chuckles at my reaction, "after all I have given you my name, my Targaryen queen. You are no longer your own, you are forever mine."

I watch him as he lifts his head up and kisses my sopping heat. I flinch when he nips at me, drawing my nub out with his teeth. He lifts his head as he releases my flesh. His chin is glistening with my slick as he says, "I want you."

My breath leaves me when he says this.

"And I know you want me too, but I have to-- I need you to say it." He repositions himself in my thighs, "you are after all married to maniac," he breathes against me, "now, say it."

He shakes my thighs, "SAY IT!"

"I want you," I snap, "Daemon, I-" a loud cry rips out of me before I can even continue.

The sound of him lapping his tongue on me, eating me out as if I was his final meal, was somehow louder than my cries. I cannot help but so violently react to him as he devours me. He forces me still in his grip and fights off the movement of my thighs with his face.

It seems as though my admittance has reduced me into nothing but needy sounds.

Without another thought, my hands reach down at him and dig into his silver hair. I arch my back and pull at him when his tongue flicks into me.

"Fucking slut," he mutters, squeezing my thighs as he pulls me apart.

I scream out his name as he digs his face deeper into me. I lift my head up when he pulls away to laugh, "look at you, rutting against me like the needy whore you are."

I don't have time to find offence in his words because I still, not even realizing I was in fact moving my hips against him. He laughs as he continues his work, leaving me no time to feel embarrassment and only hot pleasure.

He is fucking good at what he does. He's so fucking good that my mind wanders where it should not. How much practice has he gotten to be this good? It is precisely because of this that I finally break, "all for you, Daemon," I grab his cheeks, "all for you-- all mine."

I do not see how his eyes dart up to me for I then throw my head back and whine. I feel myself come close to my undoing, "fuck, Daemon, don't stop."

I shriek when I bites me.

Just as I am inching so close, all at once, he pulls away from me.

I pant and stiffen as I hear and feel him spit on me. Much like all other moments, I do not have time to react. When I turn to him, he grabs my legs and shoves me to my side.

I begin to panic when he rises to his knees.

"I'll be fucking damned if I don't make you come on my cock right now," he grunts, making my eyes drop down to the very thing, erect, hard, and angry.

"Get on your knees, bitch," he blurts, though he doesn't give me much of a chance to as he drags me up into the position he wants me by my hips.

I haven't even propped myself up on my arms yet when he unceremoniously begins to pound into me.

I am certain if anyone could hear us in the middle of this storm, they would think I was mad, or worse, being tortured.

"I'm going to breed that prurient wolf in you, just as I'm sure your wolf, Havoc, is being bred right now."

I growl at the idea and feel my belly tighten at his words.

Daemon groans before he chuckles, "that's it, isn't it?"

His relentless thrusts begin to grow sloppy. Suddenly, he yanks me by my hair and lifts me up. His other hand slaps to my throat to offer painful support as he pulls me up against him.

I choke on my spit when my form presses against him with difficulty. He sinks down on his knees, my core wrapped around his length as he shifts me in a snug position atop him.

His hands make their way to my breasts to roughly grope them. His teeth sink down on my shoulder.

I release a wild sound as my own hands come on top of his. I am left moaning at how his mouth sinks into my skin.

Daemon makes sure to suck hard before pulling away. For a moment he catches his breath before speaking, "you did not want me here because you are affected by your wolf's heat, aren't you."

The way I begin to slowly bounce on top of him is enough of an answer to him.

He laughs as his hands depart from my tender breasts, one going down to my sensitive nub, the other sealing my throat again, "you are a fucking selfish bitch for keeping your cunt from me."

My breathing becomes arduous when he tightens his grip around me.

"You would have preferred to touch yourself to the thought of me?" he questions as he rubs on my sensitive nub.

"Daemon," I gasp, pushing my head back as his lips latch on my neck again.

He ceases the moment of his fingers as he finishes grazing on my skin. "Yes, my pretty whore?" he mutters in between his kisses, "what do you want, hmm?"

My breathing strains when his hand tightens around my throat more. I catch my breath when he releases his grip to push my hair off to the side, "tell me what you want me to do to you."

I call out his name. He calls out mine.

I find myself grabbing his hands as I moan out, "I want you to fuck me."

Without another word, I am thrown down to the bed. The only reason I'm still on him is because of his hands that latch on my hips.

I am nothing against his strength. He handles me like a ragdoll, fucking me with absolutely no regard and nothing else in mind.

I make sounds that mean nothing. His name is polluted by my whimpers and cries that you cannot make head or tail of.

I would not last any longer with how he was handling me, even if I wanted to, even if I tried.

"That's it my easy bitch," he pants, "come around me like the needy whore you are."

"Daemon-"

"Your eager cunt will take my seed well when I fill you up," his one hand leaves my hip and rips my head back by my hair again, "don't you think, pretty wife?"

"Yes," I reply without thinking, "yes, yes, yes, yes-"

"And you will give me your pups," he mutters, "bare my dragons, like a dutiful wife will you not?"

My only response is my body breaking orgasm. I shiver beneath him, falling powerless as I scream his name and crumble, absolutely boneless.

Daemon lets out a string of curses as he milks out my reaction for all he's got.

He does not waver once bit and it maddeningly delicious.

My voice hikes up when I feel him release inside me not too late after.

"Fucking come slut," he barks as he snaps his hips in me, "take it all just like that."

I bury my screams in the cushions he presses on, unrelenting. When he finally does grow sloppy, I take a moment to catch my breath and relish the feel of him.

I whimper when he pulls away and slaps my ass.

"The absolute mess you've made of yourself," he coos, as he rubs the skin he slapped.

I can feel myself leaking, I can feel it all over my legs, on the sheets, and I could practically feel his pleased smile as he watches the lewd display. I could not bring myself to care at all though, not when my legs begin to fall.

I squeak when Daemon rearranges me on the bed. He is not at all as rough as he was with me a while ago, but his strength and my lack thereof does not really allow him to be gentle.

He falls onto the side of the bed next to me and gathers me into his chest. When I roll over to him, I groan at the feeling of my wet thighs pressing together.

"Do not make issue of that," Daemon says as he watches me squirm. He pulls me close to him, arm over my shoulders. His other hand hooks behind my knee, dragging me atop him. I whimper and push my hand on his chest when I feel core empty out on his thigh.

He does not allow me to pull away and I turn to him because of this. Daemon forces me close against him, "are you so haughty over my come that you cannot bare the thought of it-"

"But it's getting everywhere," I start off loudly but end with a whisper.

Daemon's nostrils flare as he shakes his head, "I should sure hope so."

I feel my cheeks burn and so I decide to hide my face in his chest.

His laughter intensifies, and I do not enjoy how my head bounces on his ribcage because of it.

"Oh meekness suits you well, my dear."

I weakly mumble, "fuck off."

His amusement continues as he rubs my arms, "you mean, 'I want you to fuck me, Daemon.' "

"I did not say it like that!" I quip, lifting my head as I turn to him, finally making him cease his stupid laughter. The sight of his stupid smug face still glimmering in slick renders me frozen.

Suddenly I am aware of how cold the room still was.

"Pray tell, how did you say it?" he hums, pushing hair behind my ear.

I furrow my brows and press my cheek on his chest again, admitting lowly, "I didn't say your name at the end."

"My," he draws shapeless figures on my skin, "I'm glad to know the moment is burned in your very being."

"Fuck off," I mutter under my breath, scratching my eye. It dawns onto me that my face was equally as wet as Daemon's. Heat rises up my face again when I realize I really did cry because of how good he felt.

"Don't fret," he sighs, "there is a reason why you should not worry yourself about how your pretty cunt is leaking blood and come. I shall fuc-"

I turn to him in concern and push myself up.

Daemon furrows his brows and shakes his head, "it is normal," he soothes, grabbing my cheek, "or did you just forget your maidenhood was still intact after imagining fucking me?"

I am suddenly aware how real everything was. My husband has finally gotten me to consummate our marriage and all his talk of me bearing his seed could may well come true. My chest begins to constrict as my mind floods with endless scenarios.

"Well, if you start frowning like that, I might actually feel bad," Daemon mutters, lifting himself up on his elbows, "what's wrong?"

I look at his concerned expression and find myself speaking before I realize, "did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" he clarifies quickly.

"That you want me," I quip just as fast.

He stares at me for a moment, as if he was taken aback or measuring the truthfulness in my voice. When a prolonged moment passes between us, he realizes I was serious.

"Fuck," he drops his head back, "it must be exhausting to be a woman with your overthinking."

"Well, pardon me for not-"

"You are pardoned," he blurts, making me whimper when he suddenly flips us over.

I am beneath him again. He does nothing but press his weight on me, but I struggle beneath him, not enjoying the idea of remaining in an uncomfortable position.

He misreads my intentions and hinders me from moving, as he wraps his arms around me, "I just told I want you, that I burn for you, that I want you to mother my children. Do you honestly think I am one to say that to anyone?"

I gulp as he shifts to nestle his face in the crook of my neck, "I..." he breathes against my skin. He does not continue as he opts to kiss my neck instead.

When I move to wrap my own arms around him, he speaks again, "I am at your mercy. You saved me from freezing to death when you could have easily decided to rid of me."

I press my cheek against him and begin to comb through the long hair on his back, "I was serious about my distaste to remarry."

"Well, you will not," he quickly retorts, "you will have me until the end."

I bring my legs around him as I release a sigh, "consider me overjoyed by the thought."

He chuckles as he shifts, "you do not sound-"

"I did not want to admit it," I cut him off, "but I think I..." I turn to him as he lifts his head, "I think I... care for you, Daemon... I-"

"Love you," he finishes, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

And for the first time since our nuptials, he kisses me. He kisses me not because he has to, not for the sake of showing everyone present, but because he wanted to, for the sake of showing me.

He is nothing but warmth, nothing but fire, nothing but him. Daemon is not sweet, but in this moment he put even honey to shame.

He begins to stir on top me, though he makes sure his lips do not leave mine. It is because of my moan that we are broken apart, the moan that leaves me when I feel him slip inside me.

"Daemon-"

"You know how I fuck," he sighs, rubbing his nose against mine, "but now we'll both know how I make love."

[juricore]

Do you have a recommendation list? I have finished watching utena but I want More now

im currently bouncing around in classic shoujo circles so most of my recs will flow that way but there are certainly modern works that are utenesque as well.........either way. shoujo is so multifaceted that im recommending things based on vibes/themes instead of plot but well here's what i got

Oniisama E: my no. 1 rec if you just want More Utena. RGU borrowed a ton from this series and (be warned) it has a trigger list just as long. and also it will make you crazy. it will fr make you crazy. but it is a true yuri written in the 70s so expect the pitfalls that comes with the territory

Madoka (PMMM): the other deconstruction of the magical girl trope show. weird that it's more well known than rgu at this point so you may have already seen it but to me it's like utena if you dont have the attention span to watch 40 episodes

Rose of Versailles: one of the first well known "girl prince" stories. honestly not very utena in plot but very fun to watch cause you can see it's influences bleed into literally every well regarded anime that came after it. including rgu. quickly became one of my fave shows ever.

Princess Tutu: based on swan lake, that same sickly fairy tale vibe, can we escape our fate etc etc etc. not as dark as you might expect but still pretty dark for what was ostensibly a kid's show. it's mentioned in conjunction w/ rgu a LOT

Similar anime that are on my list but that I haven't gotten around to watching: Mawaru Peguindrum (another Ikuhara work) and Ribon no Kishi (according to some: the ORIGINAL girl prince). Also (forgive me) EVA.

pls add recs in the notes if you have them :)

[baddrcams]

I wanted to pop into the tags to seek more long-term di*scord partners. I usually write m/f or f/f (need more sapphic love pls and thanks <3) !! I've been writing for a long time and am 26 so pls I'd prefer everyone be 21+ before interacting <3* !! I'll add some plots I have muse for under the cut but pls give this a like or send me a message if you're interested !! (I don't like to 'double' for m/f sake, but I am down for multiple threads, just dont use me for my guys I guess?) *fade to black is okay even if above 21 obviously!! although sm*t is usually my vibe

im still in a bridgerton s3 brainrot unfortunately, so childhood friends to lovers vibes maybe? we could try the whole one has been pinining but moving on and the other is now started to pine OR we could do something totally different, i just want love that stems from familiarity with one another etc.

plot based off of pretty woman !!

maybe a little horror? serial killer in love anyone? the insatiable infatuation, the obsession, the creepy longing??? i want it all lol

this is kind of like the above but an aged up heathers style au!!

supernatural love!! give me a set of opposing creatures or the classic creature/human trope !! (i.e demons, vampires, werewolves, witches, etc etc)

hear me ouuuut but love island au!! just 1x1 but its like their dating around but keep coming back to each other, give me hooking up but trying to hide it from the cameras!! give me secret convos in the pool !! idk im also in a LI brainrot atm so

give me muse a needs something from muse b and is super manipulative to get it but falls for muse b and then its too late bc now muse b knows and now don't trust them!! a classic but a goody.

[soureggs]

I want to say my opinion on the btd gomenne gomenne fan game , i basicly have no leg to stand on but this is just my view on it

Controversial opinion but

I DONT think anyone is wrong realy in this situation,both sides are vaild.

°its very muddy and ppl try to bring in topics i DONT understand????

*I think ppl often forget alot of the Loud minority of gatos fanbase has sorta parasocial relationship with her since at one point gato was very active in her fanbase offten answering questions on the spot and constantly liking fanart and leaving comments, something not alot of creator's do ( i know the creator of sally face interacts with their own fandom too!)

But bc gatos fanbase is so niche the small amount of ppl assum she approves of everylittle thing or knows about every protect/merch ect She doesn't , it apperse to me shes often the last one to hear the news. If even(?)

( somewhat un related but im using this as an example bc its recent) vvvvvvv

// Very recently a merch creator/ seller said that her version of ren was a. l%li-con and there was some ppl who assumed gato was okay with this. She wasn't lol- i mean gato said multiple times kids DONT even exist in the games plot, BUT because gatos so lenient and open to head canons /spins on her characters thoes ppl assume she approved it \\

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Its also very hard when you make a character and then a person starts writing them using their own head canons or having alot of out of character moments

And a STRANGE AMOUNT of thoes ppl thinking its canon or cant get THAT version of your character out of their head/ fan art /wrighting untill eventually its a fanon

Even WHEN a fangame is a perfect (like said fangane) because one person dose it , some ppl with bad intention will use this as an excuse to make a upsetting fangame and wont REALY get in trouble.

Hell even ppl with good intention could do the same and completely miss interpret the characters yk??

Veteran btd fans saw this years ago -

IM NOT SAYING THE FANGAME CREATOR WOULD EVER DO THAT OR ANYTYING WITH BAD INTENTIONS! :0!! There art is grate and im sure they are LOVELY!

But keep that in mind with Everthing i said above how it might be a reasonable personal rule to have in such a small fandom. Especially if she had bad passed experiences

I think ppl misinterpret her words, not out of malice ! Im sure of it! , but (creating your own game based off my work) is much different than

(Creating a game using my characters and or plot or story)

I belive she ment ( you can make your own muderp%rn dating sim) like courten cowboys or lurking for love , lovers trophy , etc etc ! Maybe her wording was a misstranlation ? Or misinterpreted? , im on the spectrum so i have that problem too sometimes ! And Especially since gatos so flexible and vague its easy to missread /gen

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To be Inspired by a work dosent mean to use the characters or plot, just like referencing when drawing ! Example, OFF and undertail was Earthbound inspired but they both dont use any characters ect OVER THE GARDEN WALL Was inspired by Dante's Inferno! But its not the same characters pulled out and used

I hope that helps/gen

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I personaly believe stuff like that , what happened before and even in other fandom is why gato has that particular rule about not wrighting her characters at length. Not wanting to take the risk of someone miss using her characters again! /lh

I think its odd that ppl can Wright about sans undertail doing some weird ass shit and ppl dont scream about how toby fox approves of it . but they do for gato for some reason? ( if you could let me know why pls do ! )

" well ren was giving to gato so its not even hers"

That argument is silly to me, ren was giving as a gift, when you give a present to yourfriend is it yours anymore?? When a person buys an adoptable is it still the sellers?

Its not like gatos shy when saying she didnt creative ren, she was given him and modified him and still lets ppl know she didnt crate him .

Some of them use that as a talking point to say that said fangame creator is fine using that character in particularly as if hes free use, i DONT understand as someone who sells characters /designs(?)

( if you could explain i would appreciate it!)

The fangame devs are very talented the game seems fine from what i hurd! They did take creative liberties but its still very much gatos characters, I think they where respectable with them even in the contex of said game! . But i find it weird that the post says fanart for their fan game is appreciate ( at least in the English post i found prompting it) fan art of a fan game is confusing and i see how some ppl might mix the two up! Know?? like what would even be the tags? 'Sorrysorrybtd?' :0 So i can see how that could be another reason for the rule!

°I acknowledge and am so grateful that the artist. And devs worked so hard on the game and assets , im sure alot of ppl are as well! And im 100% sure it wasn't their intention to upset gato or anyone in that matter at all!

they are NoT obligated to apologize, maybe not make a second game out of respect(?) But thats their prerogative! They can do it , they wield the power yk?

BUT HARASSING ANY OF THE DEVS INVOLVED IS SO so so WEIRD???????

And making dramatic posts about it as well - it just rubs me the wrong way. Especialy using this as a opportunity to disrespect gato and ONE of her only rules she has for this very odd ( positive) fanbase. its kinda a little silly in my opinion . NOT to mention harassing the other game devs - this might make them not want to make any other games at all in the future ! D:

Please know i dont mean anything in this post to be upseting or malicious in anyway, i honestly think no one this fangane drama had any bad intentions or would do anything to upset anyone on purpose! I know its very high tension. And i would be upset too if a fangame i worked SO hard on with characters i love was met with disapprove instead of praise. And this is to say -this could have ben done better on gatos part. Thos could've ben done in privet imp

BUT im not gato , im not the other devs. im not in the positions to say ' i would've done this' bc ive never ben in that position, ive never had to deal with anything like this. So i wouldnt know what ild do in that moment ! And i think alot of ppl also forget that with all devs involved

We are all vary passonat in this fandom. But please dont start burnning bridge's over this! :'3 this fandom is already so devided due to all of our strong personal opinions it dosent realy need to be a. ' pick your side ' thing i dont think..

I am relatively new to the fandom, so i DONT know much about the past dramas srounding it, so if yall have anything youll like to say or add or educate me on PLEASS let me know and i will retract any of thoes statements !

[f4iry-bell]

Stained Shirt and Two Seats for One

a very long title, im so sorry about the setting of first chapter not being clear and switch of what is going on eacothers heads?? though its written in third person pov. first chapter is very terrible pls bare with me. its just for funies.

this is a regular x f!reader. anyone can read it.

NOTE: after TBH but AU where there is no tgg or anything that involves tgg(no avery's game, or alice being alive, etc etc). reader is 23-24. grayson is 26-27 y/o. im sorry for making gray kinda old ITS FOR PLOT REASONS.

warning: unclear setting 🧍‍♀️.

Y/n blinked rapidly as she was trying hard not to scream out of pain and anger. The hot liquid poured all over her burnt like hell. And the colour choice of her top was definitely not helping. At least she doesn't have to immediately meet her client as soon as she lands in London. Some of the people who passed by looked at her stained shirt and the man in front of her who looked so perfect. No, literally, he might just be perfect.

“My sincere apologies.” He apologised and his tone stated neutral, he sounded apologetic but yet not.

“It's okay.” She says giving him a poor smile while she looks at her top.

“It's not okay, your shirt is ruined.” He states.

“No, I was on my phone while I was walking, it's also my fault.” She said and watched him take his white handkerchief out handing it to her.

“I was not looking as well.”

“Thank you, but I don't think it's going to help.” She chuckled but his face remained neutral.

“I’m sorry again” He kept apologising and she kept saying ‘it's fine’

Finally they both parted ways. Grayson was thinking about the incident and the girl, he ruined a perfectly styled outfit. It was simple and probably comfortable for flying. He remembered that his flight is about to take off in 30 minutes. He can't let that event bother his whole plane ride.

As Grayson walked inside the flight through the economy, he recognised one person sitting in the middle, the girl whom he poured his black coffee on. She was wearing a cardigan over her stained shirt. Her wired earphones disappeared in her wavy hair. She sat in between a weird old man and a woman with her baby on her lap. She looked so done. He can't imagine how bad her day must be. First, he pours coffee on her and now she has to sit next to probably two worst types of people you would find on a plane. He couldn't help himself. He walked to her seat, fortunately he didn't have to tap on her to make her notice his presence. She looked at him once he was near her seat and unplugged her earphones from her ears with a confused look. Probably wondering why he is here.

“Hi.” She said and gave him an awkward smile as if this man did not just pour hot coffee on her.

“I have an offer,” He said. “For you.”

“Oh. um, oh” He can tell that she was super confused by her response.

“You have a seat in first class” He informed her.

“Huh?” She was still confused.

“You heard me. I have a seat for you in the first class” He was trying to be clear.

She can tell that this man was about to board in first class when he poured coffee on her just by his looks. But why is he offering his seat? Because he poured coffee on her? And where will he sit? In her seat? He looks like he never travelled out of first class.

“Oh you don't have to give up your seat. It's fine.” She smiles.

“Ma’am, I'm not giving up my seat. Take the offer” He ordered, getting kind of impatient.

“You’re not? But you said that you have a seat for me”

“True”

“So, your seat”

“Yes. My other seat” He added “You'll be sitting next to me”

“You have booked two seats?” She asked. Was he supposed to travel with someone? His outfit might say that he was supposed to travel with a business partner or assistant.

“I always do. Now if you're done with your questions, we must leave before the airhostess asks us” He said.

She blinked a couple times not believing what just happened. She stood up and noticed the lady with her baby was giving her a jealous look. I mean she can't blame the lady, who wouldn't want to travel in first class. She took her small backpack with her.

She spoke as they walked “So um why'd you book two seats?” She didn't want to pry but she was going to sit next to this man for hours, she didn't want it to be awkward throughout.

“As I've mentioned already. I always do”. He replied. Showing no interest in a conversation. He is giving her a seat in first class that should be enough of an apology for the coffee, right?

“But why?”

“Because I do not like sitting next to strangers. You'll be surprised to find out even people who travel first class want to engage in unnecessary conversations” He told her. She gave a nod. She made a mental note to not engage in a conversation with him.

Grayson noticed it, he also thought that she is quite polite and beautiful too.

She tried hard not to think that he is an arrogant asshole, well he is giving his seat to her so he must be fine. She made sure not to make silly conversation with him or not talk at all. This man booked two tickets just so he doesn't have to engage with others. He must hate people. Y/n was not a fan of people or small talk with strangers either so it's not hard for her to keep her to herself. But if the awkward silence is too loud she won't be able to help herself, she will just say something random.

The plane ride was quiet as Grayson wanted. He liked the fact that the girl did not try to have any small talk with him. All though he tried his best to mind his own business he kept noticing what she was doing, for the first half an hour of the flight the girl was writing something on her notebook. He wanted to peek but it would be too obvious. After some writing she took out a beige eye mask and then rested throughout the flight. Watching her like a creep he decided to do the same as well.

It was like an unwritten rule to walk out of London's airport together for them. Like the plane ride the walk was also quiet. Grayson had a car waiting for him outside already, the girl on the other hand was waiting for a taxi. He wanted to offer her a ride but he thought it was probably too much.

“I’m once again sorry about your clothes. Have a good life” He started and ended the conversation without even giving her time to speak. He didn't care if she thought he was rude, he will never see this girl ever again.

next part →

[astroels]

hey, i just wanna make sure this will be okay with you! i wanna send in a request where the reader has HEAVY symptoms of/like borderline personality disorder and farmhouse!ellie helps and understands, etc!! because ive shown ALOT of symptoms of it, but i haven’t been able to go to doctors about it :( i am totally down with helping you with this request (only if you are comfortable doing this!)

(anyone who’s sees this, pls DONT take offense to this and please don’t have a go at me (cause it won’t end well, & obviously, it will just send me in to a deeper and darker hole, that im already in!!) and to this kind human who’s writing this!! just be kind, im currently experiencing this for such a long ass time now and it’s such a tough battle, and it’s a heavy and deep journey).

here’s some topics i can help with:

(this is what i experience personally)

- splitting // seeing someone or something (like a situation) either good or bad, it can NEVER be seen in between). this makes asking for advice or reading someone or the situation to be dealt with A LOT more harder… cause i only want one answer, it can be in the middle. it MUST be a yes or no, i hope that makes sense?

- dissociation // feeling disconnected with your senses, can’t tell which is which and it’s incredibly hard to snap out of it.

- heavy feelings of emptiness // having a lack of purpose in general, it’s irritating when you can’t properly and very physically feel your intense emotions :(

- fear of abandonment // scared of ending up alone, just like what ellie said (that’s what ellie and reader can bond over w? or understand about the reader).

- emotional instability - disturbed patterns of thinking or perception – "cognitive distortions" or "perceptual distortions" impulsive behaviour. intense but unstable relationships with others.

- paranoid ideation // when im constantly scared or suspicious being secretly followed, plotted against, always in a constant state of deep anxiety.

- unstable/intense relationship // with me experiencing such intense emotions, etc. this can creat so much short, unstable and intense relationships with anyone i come across in life. // the readers first actual long healthy loving relationship with ellie is her first :(

- sh behaviors… (pls dont do this, if this triggers you)

could you possibly add in about ellies drawings/journal about the reader and bpd… to help her understand and help around the farmhouse for the reader. ellie and tlou helps me so much in so many ways. (abt me and my mind) bc i feel like her drawing about reader and the symptoms/memories of ellie being here can help me so much :)

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

a/n: I tried to touch on topics that you mentioned and with information I'm aware of since I have a friend with bpd, if anyone has a problem with this, do let me know, I am in no means writing this to be disrespectful or stereotypical, I just hope someone is able to find comfort in this :)

cw: arguments, mentions of sh (i will mark when it shows up), joel is dead in this (sorry joel)

apocalyptic!au

At first, having to hide your disorder from Ellie was a struggle. There was an intense fear that came with the idea that Ellie would back off as soon as she found out it. It was hard enough to mask the feeling, and even harder when you felt the symptoms that ruined previous relationships ooze into your current one with Ellie. Eventually, you just couldn't hide it anymore. You had to be honest even if rejection was a likely path.

"Ellie, I really need to talk to you." It'd come out in a burst of impulsiveness, no longer being able to keep it from her. From where you were laying on her lap, you'd straighten, looked down, besides her, anywhere where you didn't have to face her.

"What's up?" She'd be looking at you intently, with the shine in her eyes that showed she was curious as to what was to come and her voice gentle, as she naturally was with you.

"I really can't hold it together anymore, I struggle." You paused, didn't everyone? The words felt thick in your throat. You continued after cleaning your throat. "Mentally, 'm pretty sure it's borderline personality disorder, and theres no way to help it." Ellie stared at you, expressionless, waiting for you to continue. "It's always been there, before you, these past few weeks, and when I'm alone. I feel so trapped, Ellie." Everything you said came out rushed, in raspiness, in choked sobs that this was the end of a relationship that could've been something better in your life. "I'm not okay and I'm probably not something you want to deal with." You didn't think she wanted more baggage in this already ruined world.

Ellie didn't speak. Were you too honest? Were you too blunt? Too clingy in such a short time? What was wrong with you? A second passed by with you left in thought. "Oh, baby." Ellie pulled you in, letting you breathe in the slight dirt scent that lingered on her shirt.

She held you for awhile, allowing your tears to ease into falters before speaking again. She pulled away, her hands on your cheek, wiping the last of your tears. "You've never felt like someone I've had to deal with. Disorder or not, I'm going to stay with you, okay?"

Incredible doubt still filled your mind, her words seeming to just sink into you and not touch where it mattered. "What if you realize I'm not worth it? What if you leave? I can't handle that Ellie." You said in almost a whisper, her love was too good to be true, everyone always left when they found out the reality of your behaviors and emotions.

"You're worth more than you realize, baby. I promise you, as long as you need me, I'll always need you. We're going to do this and learn together." She'd caress your cheek, calming you with the sensation of her touch. "And besides, I'm just as scared of losing you." She'd give you a slight smile followed by a kiss on the cheek to lighten the mood. Ellie wouldn't dare make you feel like something she'd have to "deal" with. After your first mention, she picked up books from Jackson to further look into it.

Even if you knew the farm was strayed away from any communities, and it was very unlikely that any infected would stray towards the farm, the anxiety swelled up in you. It was so easy to lose Ellie and everything you've grown together, just by a simple mistake of overestimating your safety. It happened often when you'd hear a noise at night and couldn't sleep, saw something move quickly in the corner of your eye, or even when Ellie was gone for too long. Your fear would turn into forms of skin picking and eventually lead into panics that induced loss of breath and worry. Ellie, of course, did her best to help you through these panics.

You hated bothering Ellie with how you felt, but you promised her you'd be more open and try to be communicative instead of shutting off when something was happening. You kept hearing it, the clicking noise that was going to cause your death any second now.

"Ellie," you whispered, rocking her arm a bit to wake her. Her eyebrows slightly furrowed in sudden wake. Her green eyes looked pretty hazy, but she quickly rose when she saw the shakiness your body was in.

" 's the noise again, baby?" She leaned to her side to pick up her glass of water, offering it to you. Supposedly, fresh water was supposed to cool the body, along with the scent of herbs. Ellie had you trying natural supplements while she found a trader who had medication. All you could form was a simple nod after you drank from her water, your throat burning from anxiousness.

That was all Ellie needed to understand what to do. It'd happened before, and she was glad you woke her up this time. Ellie scootched closer to you, allowing your head to fall on her lap. There was no way to block the noise but to fill the silence.

Ellie took it upon herself to play with your hair, leaving tingles all across your head, and singing for you, songs she created, songs she found, songs Joel had sang for her. She filled the room with her voice to block the outside noises that burdened their mark in your mind. " 's gonna be okay, baby." Her sensation eventually soothed you. Even on rough nights, she didn't give up on helping you.

With BPD, there were empty days, days where you couldn't reciprocate anything, days where everything seemed challenging, it wasn't something you felt you could do. Completing any farm task became a haze. You mentally weren't present in the day. The things you could do seemed to be done messily, which made your helplessness feel even worse.

You knew it was time to get up, time to water the plants, fetch the clothing from the line, and prepare lunch, but you couldn't. If you tried in a state like this, everything would go bad and end up sending you into spiral. Ellie's words passed through your mind. " 'ts alright babe, only do what you can, when you can." She made sure to tell you it was okay, but you still felt useless tucked into bed while she was out hunting and fetching things from Jackson.

You decided to go downstairs and start on some laundry. It's the least you could do to stay organized at such a time. Ellie had been gone for a while now, the hallow feeling inside you carved deeper each moment you felt the absence of her. She couldn't fix you, but the knowledge that she was around made it the tiniest bit better.

A load of laundry was done when you decided to just get back in bed. There was no use fighting what was inevitable. Time passed as if you were watching a train, you weren't moving, but time surely was. You spent the rest of the day wating for Ellie, growing impatient in the increasing grayness.

While looking at the window, the sound of a door rattling burst your train of thought. Ellie's voice of letting you know she was home was faint. Would she notice that today was an off day? Would she be as caring as the other days? You heard her making her way upstairs momentarily.

The moment she walked in, she glanced at you and spoke with a gentle tone, pushing you into a cloud. "Hey baby, how're 'y holding up?" She continued around the room to change, leaving herself in a tank top and pj shorts. Your silence spoke volumes, you just couldn't respond. Your voice didn't want to be heard, it felt trapped in your throat. You nodded at her, making eye contact as reassurance you weren't mad, just drained.

Ellie grew understanding of these times, whether they lasted for days to weeks, she was there. She got into bed with you, seeking your warmth for a little while before she had to make dinner. She knew you didn't take care of yourself properly these days, so it was most obvious that she'd be right at your service, asked or not.

Arguments were not a likely thing to happen, but that didn't remove the possibility of it. Sometimes, you just couldn't help the feelings that bubbled up and were unstoppable. It came from stress, irritation, or just something Ellie said that sounded off putting. This part was the hardest for Ellie to communicate through, as she has her own communication issues; However both of you shared a fear factor of being abandoned. This alone gave the courage to work through the outbursts. Hard to handle, but ultimately manageable. (Tw for sh starts here, head to next section to skip)

Ellie had traded some time ago for pills, they were supposed to stabilize your mood, they really just made you unable to think as much and light headed. It wasn't the best medication, but it's as far as a post-apocalyptic world could provide. At first you took them daily as suggested, but when you learned Ellie had given one of her knives joel had crafted before he died, immense guilt filled you everytime you took one or even looked at them. The thought Ellie gave up something so special for you, made you nauseous.

In guilt of her action, you "forgot" to take them for several days, possible weeks. You thought if you were less dependent on them, Ellie wouldn't have to trade something like that again. What didn't cross your mind was Ellie noticing the difference of you on and off the meds. She noticed the way your irritation and mood swings became intense, noticed the way you pushed her away more often. The truth would come crashing down once the both of you made a wrong tone.

You were putting away dishes when Ellie approached you. "Tommys' invited me over tomorrow, said he's gonna talk to me about something." You usually wouldn't be annoyed at Ellie's absence but she'd hardly been home all week and you felt discarded. "Okay." Was all you could form in a rude tone. The actions of you putting away the glasses became unconsciously harsher. "Okay?" Ellie eyed you. You gave her a look and continued with the dishes.

The silence rung in your ear, you felt hot, the warmth crawling up your neck. Before you realized, a glass shatterd on the floor and made you wince. You cursed under your breathe while Ellie spoke out. "What the fuck is up with you?" Her eyebrows were furrowed and her tone was slightly impatient. "Nothins' up." You made your way to the kitchen doorway to grab a broom. "Look, I can't be doing this." You heard Ellie sigh. "You're gonna have to speak up." You hated the way your heart felt so heavy, you didn't want to "speak up", you wanted everything to end already.

You turned to look at her. "I know about the pills, Ellie." Ellie looked like she had an arrow of shock hit her. You continued to speak after a moment. "I don't want to take them if it means you'll be sacrificing things like that."

Ellie was biting the inside of her cheek, her face looking frustrated above anything. "I don't want to exhaust you any longer, I can't do it to you, Ellie." You stared at her for any signs of reading how she felt. No effort could ever tell you what she was thinking. "What's done is done, just take the fucking pills." Her tone seemed increasingly harsh. "No, Ellie, I don't want to burden you any longer."

"You've already become a fucking burden, 's too late to worry about that now." Your heart dropped. Out of everything she could've said, you never thought it'd come to that. You could tell she regretted it by the way she gasped and immediately started attempting to apologize, but you couldn't anymore. You had already began to run up the stairs into the bathroom, your mind ringing with her words. If you were a burden, it'd be better to stay in there and rot away.

You were left alone in the bathroom with your thoughts, alone with your hidden "safety" kit, if you could call a box that held such a harmful purpose, safe. But it's okay because this never left you, this was always there for you. It would just be this time you told yourself; you needed the comfort.

You knew how to clean up well, the only way Ellie would notice is if she really looked. She would probably check, considering she knew your destructive behavior. You wish you could feel pity over yourself for relapsing, but it just felt so numbing, It took no effect.

A sudden knock frightened you as you scrambled to put away all your materials. "Baby, will you please come out." You didn't know how to respond. Now that she was here, you knew how disappointed she'd be about what you did. Not telling her wasn't an option, you'd feel like a liar. "You're not a burden babe, I promise you you're not." She sounded stuffy as if she'd been crying. You couldn't ignore her for long, simply unlocking the door as an invitation.

Ellie quickly opened the door and brought you into a hug. You didn't hug back, but she understood. You stood there wondering if she'd hate you. Would she finally let you go? No, you couldn't keep doing this to yourself. You let yourself sink in her arms, crying. Her words are the last thing you remembered for the next days that passed like a fever dream. "I love you, my angel."

You never understood how quickly Ellie was able to adapt to your mania and depressive episodes. It was quite a lot to deal with and retain. You never understood until you found her journal she'd left out. You were cleaning up the table as your eyes found their way to her open words and drawings. She had thoughts, lists, notes about what was okay, not okay, what helped you, what hadn't. It was awfully sweet, she really cared and it showed. You didn't know how you manged to make her your girlfriend, her beauty and love always made your heart flutter.

Ellie once asked you to be the star of her nude drawing, as hesitant as you were, you trusted her with all your insecurities. She never showed you the drawing though, not until you came across it yourself. She portrayed your body lovingly, the curves of your skin rolled naturally, your stretch marks defining the growth you've gone through, your scars drawn fluidly. Did she really picture you like this? Did she really think you were this worth drawing for? Your heart felt warm, knowing this was how she thought of you.

The other drawings were full of you doing activities, playing with a stray cat that lingered your farm for a few months, watering the plants, petting the sheep, dancing with music, and laying on the grass. Every moment you could picture with her was sketched right in front of you.

Along the pages, there were separate sections that divided different things about your bpd.

What makes it worse

Being too touchy when she's irritated

The smell of cinnamon (oddly specific)

The pink pills

When a straight answer isn't given

What helps

Occasional weed usage (don't overuse !!)

Baths (most of the time)

The texture of her favorite sweater ( W symbol)

Treating her gentle (not too gentle)

Things to mention (that might help)

The new pill

Herbs for sleeping tea

New hobbies

Music record I found

Chore separation (on a normal day)

E- Herding sheep, hunting, fetching supplies, organizing imports

R- washing clothes, watering plants, hunting, feeding sheep

Both- Making food, cleaning, looking out for infected

surprise plans

Candlelit picnic dinner while watching meteor shower (Wednesday)

sensual massage ;)

bath with the relaxant oils I found

dancing to the record she liked but we broke (found another)

giving her the ring

[unboundprompts]

hi im not able to consolidate a comprehensive storyline, i just have fragmented pieces of what i want to write.

Storyline- two best friends who are popular and are suffering from their own problems

character A is an athlete who is depressed after seeing his stats in recent matches

character B is also an athlete who rarely gets a chance to play in the matches which has tremendously affected his self esteem

also they kiss when they drink but they don't always remember and shrug it off as a mistake if they do.

Pls help me :)

Hi friend! It looks like you've got a great start, your story sounds like it has a good backbone to it. (I love the "also they kiss when they drink" lol it made me laugh)

I've got a couple ideas that might help you out, feel free to ignore them or alter them in a way that suits your story best.

Setting:

Are they college athletes? On an adult league? Professional athletes?

The setting of your story can help develop your plot and your characters, as well as provide extra obstacles for your characters to overcome.

If your story takes place on a college campus, your characters will have to worry about keeping up with their studies, balancing their friendships with their studies and their sports, etc. They'd also be living close together (maybe in dorms or a shared apartment near campus). You can have them go to college parties together, train at the gym together, etc.

If they are professional adult athletes, perhaps you can have them traveling to different places for their matches. Sitting together on the bus, the plane, etc, staying in the same hotel, spending time together at the hotel bar.

Their Relationship:

Are they athletes in the same sport? Teammates? Rivals?

I imagine Character A venting about their stats and Character B responding, "At least you get to play." They offer each other some comfort because they both understand what the other is going through to some extent.

Maybe some of their other teammates grow to dislike them because one of them is playing poorly and the other is a "benchwarmer." The two of them becoming outsiders on their own team force them to grow closer to one another (maybe reluctantly, in an enemies-to-lovers kind of way. One of them still clings to popularity and is rude to the other until they realize they are more of the same.)

After every game they go out to celebrate with the team (If they're in college, maybe it's at a party with other students. If not, maybe it's at a local bar). Somebody insults one of the characters, either for playing poorly or not playing at all, and the other comes to their rescue and defends them. (And then they kiss obviously)

I really love the idea that they both mutually want the other, but are too afraid to admit it so they just chock it up as a mistake. If you're looking to make their romantic relationship a part of your story, I think having one character in major denial about their feelings would suit this scenario very well.

The Root of Their Problems:

Maybe Character A is dealing with an outside problem (unrelated to the sport) that causes them to play poorly and their stats to drop. Their sport was a distraction to the problem, but it is being affected by their performance and it only makes their depression worse. They go from being a great player to having one of the lowest stats on the team. Will they ever open up to Character B about their problem?

Character B rarely gets to play (is it due to being underestimated by coaches? Do they not have good chemistry with any of the other players and therefore can't partner with anyone? Or are they unable to attend the matches for another reason? Why are they not being allowed to play?) and therefore has low self-esteem. What else does this low self-esteem effect? Their performance in classes? Their personality around friends? Does Character A notice? What does Character A do about it?

Will these problems ever escalate to a point that they quit their sport? Will the coach temporarily stop them from playing until everything is sorted out? And what kind of effect will these consequences have on your characters?

How do you plan to resolve their problems? Obviously, depression and a low self-esteem don't just go away. Will their relationship make it easier for them to cope with what's going on? Will they both begin to play in the matches better? Maybe they start to work together more than they did and their performance improves?

Timeline Suggestions:

I think if you start with having at least Character A still being a major player on the team and doing well, then seeing their performance slowly decline throughout the story will be more impactful to the readers (obviously just a suggestion).

If you go with the route that an outside problem is affecting their performance, you can reveal what that problem is early in the story, or maybe you'd like to save it for a moment between Character A and B when they're having a heartfelt conversation.

You could have the characters celebrate their match and establish the relationships between them during this scene through dialogue and actions. If Character B, at this point, is not playing in the matches and you want to start their relationship off rocky, then you could have Character A give them a hard time. If you want them to be good friends from the beginning, then Character A can drunkenly comfort them (and then they kiss?).

Slowly, Character A's problems are starting to affect them more severely. Maybe show them interacting with other people, have them not do good at practice, etc. If the coach would ever prevent them from playing later in the story, you could foreshadow this by having the coach sternly talk to them. Tell them to clean up their act and get it together.

Does Character B notice A's mood? Do they intervene? Does A appreciate this gesture? Does it start an argument or do they grow closer together?

First match since Character A has been off their game doesn't go well. Are they angry? Sad? Do they just shrug it off? Do their teammates tell them not to worry about it? Are they offered comfort or are people upset with them for not doing well? Did their team lose because of them? What does Character B do?

Their performance slowly continues to decline. How does this affect their mood? Does Character B offer them comfort? Try to talk to them about what's going on? How does their team react? Their coach?

If Character B tries to comfort A and it doesn't work, how does this make B feel? If A gets angry with B, how does B react to this? Does A notice their reaction? What do they do about it?

More bad matches that lower Character A's stats, and they feel like they've hit rock bottom. Maybe they finally open up to B about their problems and they have a heartfelt moment. Feelings begin to develop?

You could start to focus on their relationship more here. More drunken kisses, more motivational conversations. Maybe they start to practice and work out together more.

If you want to go this route with their relationship, maybe some other character starts to notice that they are getting oddly close. Maybe they bring it up to one of the characters and that scares them away. Alternatively, it could bring them closer together.

Raise the stakes. Perhaps the coach is unhappy with their performance and gives them an ultimatum? Their team turns on them? Their relationship is in rocky waters?

Begin to resolve the problems. Solidify their relationship (if you want them to get together as a couple, that is), have them find motivation for their matches.

And then happily ever after! Unless...

I hope this helps you! I love angsty scenarios so I feel like I set you up for a lot of heartfelt conversations and breakdowns in each other's arms. That might not be the direction you want to take but I just couldn't help myself haha.

Obviously, these are all just random ideas for you, you can take them or leave them. I'd love to see what you do with this story! If you end up posting on Tumblr, I'd love to be tagged so I can read it!

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

[shiftingtomydrs]

MLB DR

Alright so same as with some other drs my personal stuff like name and everything is the same soo wont go into that a lot tbh

then backstory, i originally wanted to be like an exchange student in france but then like i cant very well be ladybug if im only there for a year so i switched it to i move to france for some reason i dont know yet and i live there with my aunt or smth bcs she lives near paris yk? then basically i just kinda take marinettes place but not completely, like shes still there and stuff but im there too yk? my love interest is adrien and marinette will get together (and stay together) with luca cos theyre cute and im not sure yet if i should script her crush on adrien out or just say it disappears at some point

changes in plot: i dont like anything after season 2, dont ask me why, i just dont like it idk why either, so im gonna script seasons 3-5 out with some exceptions (e.g. i kinda really like cat blanc so i might leave that in with some other stuff but the whole shadow moth and all that shit no) also lila isnt the next supervillain shes just a regular mean girl cos it doesnt make any frickin sense that a 15 year old is able to manipulate every single person she meets. like shell still be able to lie and manipulate people her age but not adults cos thats just stupid imo. Also i havent even watched season 5 yet so im going off spoilers i saw for the next part: none of the miraculous will have permanent holders except ladybug and chat noir (aka me and adrien) cos i like to be special :) also i wont be guardian of the miraculous until much later like college or smth cos thats a ton of pressure and it went sideways for marinette so i dont want it going sideways for me. oh and a big one: ill be taking the whole sentimonster plot out cos i hate it and i think ive never hated a plot as much as that one. like sentimonsters can exist okay but felix and adrien and kagami etc arent one. cos just no. oh and ofc i wont know adrien is chat noir haha

now a bit more about myself: idk yet if i just wanna kinda steal marinettes interests and do the whole design thing cos i am a sucker for parallels and the parallel of adriens parents and adrinette is there but then again why would i wanna be like gabriel? so i might just do what i do in 90% of my drs and be a songwriter (well ill be that anyway question is do i add the designing part on top or not?), otherwise i like baking, ill do figure skating or gymnastics or ballet prolly like all the things i wanna do here but cant for this or that reason. my nationality will be german prolly cos i like having the german passport and also i dont think i need a visa for france cos its in the eu. i wont really script much more about like me and adrien except that we end up together but in my head its kinda similar to the adrien and marinette situation cos im a sucker for slowburn and idk it just fits i think also with my issues with trusting people have good intentions and not just spend time with me bcs of a bet or shit like that.

Physical looks, i might change my hair color cos idk i think itll fit and yeah but ill still have my eye color and height and stuff just be a bit fitter cos with my endurance theres no way ill be able to be a superhero (ik theres magic and shit but still)

im not sure yet if i should leave the dr as a cartoon or do it like this reality (leaning towards this reality bcs i think cartoon would freak me out a bit for my first shift and id overcomplicate it) or maybe ill just do two drs, one cartoon and one not.

anyway, if you have any questions, id love to talk more about this dr so pls ask them <3

@ningsols here it is :)

[huntershowl]

[ art credit: the lovely faunwood ]

hello, it’s raine, mun of the resident ANGRY BABY. i have recently felt that good ol’ rp anxiety kick in, wondering if i’m too active, wondering how to approach mutuals or whether to approach them at all – we are mutuals, but like, are we?? what does being mutuals even mean? what level of interaction do folks really want?  on top of that, i have a bit of a hard time with regular starter calls because hellhound is a Very Difficult muse to throw into a new dynamic without plotting. she’s quite hostile and aggressive (in a frantic, defensive cornered-animal way), she has a reputation & quite a bit of lore baggage, and i often worry about placing an undue burden on the people i’m trying to interact with. so, here’s a PERMANENT STARTER CALL. (though i believe this particular kind of post is misnamed, i can’t think of anything better!)  please give this post a like if:

you actively want to interact

you are interested in my character & how they’ll interact with yours

i can send you memes, reply to opens, like your plotting calls, jump into your IMs/discord to plot or talk about verses, etc.

you can see interesting dynamics for our muses, or are open to working with me to plot them out if you don’t have any ( see point 2 - i’m happy to scoot into your IMs to chitchat! )

thanks folks ;) !! i look forward to interacting more with y’all.

as a sidenote, my dis.c.ord is freely open to mutuals ( @ rainekind ) — pls feel free to add so that we can yap together about our littleguys! <3 tumblr IM works as well though, i’d love to talk with y’all more about our characters in whatever format makes you most comfy.

[iceunhie]

@ ICEUNHIE'S BLOG RULES !

» content: writing, engaging, rambles, asks, etc. the whole shebang

DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME IF: you are homophobic, transphobic, actively hate and engage in discourse and start drama that can harm others, racist, and if the basic dni criteria apply to you. i will not hesitate to block you.

— WRITING !!

➣ all my works are exclusively and strictly sfw, however, suggestive and implied content will be marked appropriately followed by an age limit.

( side note : do not interact, comment or reblog the post if you don't meet said age limit. )

➣ scroll away from my blog immediately if you intend to bring discourse/drama/hate. i do not need that kind of negatively, nor do i ask for it. save that hate for yourself.

➣ my writing consists of a horrendous mix of gender neutral/genderless readers, with the occasional female reader on the side that will, rest assured, be appropriately tagged as such; my work is meant for any orientation to enjoy! i also refer to my readers as either [name] or y/n.

➣ spoilers in any of my content will be marked and shown appropriately!!

➣ most of my work isn't proofread and capitalization isn't consistent, so sorry for that 😞😞

➣ my fics will occasionally feature grammatical errors and proofreading mistakes as well as dubious wording (☠️) as english is not my first language. pls bear with that T_T

➣ my readers often have a little bit of a personality in them! ill add random quirks and small details (habits, jobs and goals) about them that helps contribute with their dynamic/plot with the character. they may not be targeted to the audience most of the time, so i do hope you can still enjoy my work </3

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➣ PLEASE don't vent/traumadump on my inbox, it makes me uncomfortable and unsure of how to respond, so please just don't.

➣ again, for the love of everything good in this world; i don't accept requests, most especially request sent in during a period I'm unable to actually attend to them. there are periods in time when i may open them for milestones, but aside from that, you aren't getting anything from me, i apologize 😓

➣ i really love talking and interacting with people, despite how introverted my blog may look lol, so if you ever want to say something to me, do send me an ask (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)—♡

➣ i really try to answer asks as fast as i can, but there are some i gatekeep because they make me feel happy reading them hehe.

➣ if you're wondering why i don't answer brainrot asks, it's probably because i'll use the idea soon too or that life got the best of me. im sorry 😭

DO NOT, under any circumstances, use and repost my work or use it for AI purposes or anything associated with AI.

— ABOUT (M)HI(E) (get it?)

➣ i follow selectively and block liberally. blank blogs that have no reblogs in them or pfps will be blocked.

➣ do not spam like my fics/works; if you're enjoying my content, a reblog or a comment along with that will go a long way, more than likes!

➣i will hardblock/softblock mutuals if you've crossed any of my rules and/or have made me uncomfortable. while i'm not required to reveal the reason for breaking the mutual, please send an ask off anon so i can explain and talk about it in private.

thank you so much for reading my rules! here is my MASTERLIST at your viewing leisure. enjoy!

guys (gn) go ham in my inbox, ily /pos i apologize in advance if i end up capslocking everytime

[roleplayfinder]

⌗ oc x cc , oc x oc ⁝ warrior cats ( 🍂 )

› hallo !!! im 19, on a college schedule, and ... recently obsessed with warrior cats again. i wont make this super long, but pls i wanna rp kitties so bad ...

› i don't have tons of rules at all, so this'll be sooo short. all i'm asking is that you are 18+, can write like 3 or more paragraphs per reply (i am a lazy lit to novella writer!) and is pretty alright with ooc chat! the last one isn't a total requirement (i soo get being shy) but i'm a little chatterbox!!

› i'm very very much double friendly, beginner friendly, and all sorts of just … friendly! i love talking about our rp, our characters, and i love sharing little things that remind me of them! i'm also lgbtq pairing friendly !!!!!

› now, rp info!

∿ oc x cc : im looking for someone to write jayfeather! i have a few ocs in mind i'd like to use that i'll def chat about when we get together! ( mxf )

∿ oc x oc : this is very loose! we can do canon clans, make our own clans, create our own og plot, etc etc etc!!! i love warrior cat ocs soooo much ( open to all gender pairings )

› interact with this & i'll reach out! i write on both tumblr and discord.

.

[just-some-random-blogger]

AHHHH

Can I request a Matt smith x reader where in real life theyre married and in the show theyre hot sibling lovers 🥵🥵 anyways 👀 theyre doing a bunch of press junkets, interviews, games, etc. and its sooo fluffy☺️ and domestic☺️ and I just want to envision my life with Matt smith 😭

+ some star points if an interviewer asks about their 😏 scenes and they get really embarrassed but cute 🥰🥰😫😫😫☺️

I Can't Help It

Matt Smith x (ME PLS I WANTHIM) Actress!Reader

Summary: The tumblr girlies were absolutely wrecked when they found out their resident girlboss was dating their superwholock tumblr boy.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Crackfic, i use y/n im sorry im not that strong, head empty only matt, a bunch of made up stuff because plot!, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: NAH ANON YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW EXCITED I WAS WHEN I SAW THIS I WAS LIKE I GOTTA ZOOM THROUGH ALL MY REQS FOR THIS IASFHASFAS. i swear my anons and i share the same brain fr we all just want the same loser dont we PLSSSSSS [foams in the mouth] Also, idk if you've ever read any of my chris evans fics, but what you want me to do for matt is what i did for him & IM ABOUT TO HAVE A FIELD DAY IM ON CRACK HELLO ALSO ALSO, i get you probably meant they're targaryen sibling/lovers, cause otherwise ALFHKAFA MISS ME W THAT BS, but i decided on doing something different all together so lolol i hope you like it nonnie <3 idk what you feel about matt smith but im still going to tag you anyway holla Tagging: @pinksirensong what do you feel about matt smith HAHAHAHAAHHA

It all started with this tweet that was prompted during a brief interaction at a movie premiere:

@fannygurl007: yeah but matt smith and y/n interacted for 20 seconds and i want them to get married and have babies [clip attached]

being liked by Matt's mom.

Then all hell broke lose.

And hell hath no mercy.

It lead with intense investigations of:

@ihave100problems retweeted: AWFHASL:FHAH WHAT THE FUCK DID THEY WHISPER TO EACH OTHER?!?!? 👹👹👹 @thedoctorswife retweeted: IN FRONT OF MY SINGLE ASS?? THEY FLIRTED IN FRONT OF *MY* SINGLE ASS??? JAIL @mattsmithbithc retweeted: "Oh, I think you look so pretty ------- yeah, that's great -----" HELP WHAT ELSE DID SHE SAY @mattsmithbithc replied: I THINK SHE SAID SMTH ABOUT HIS SUIT BUT IDK WHAT SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP @tennantsmith1 retweeted: you really can't trust men look at the way he's looking at her. i bet it was love at first sight for him. was anything between us even real </3 @mmmyehs retweeted: what's that? my matt smith and y/n cutouts gon sleep outside? I HOPE YOU KEEP EACH OTHER WARM IN HELL @y/nloml666 retweeted: NAH NAH NAH BUT MY BISEXUAL ASS WANTS TO BE IN BETWEEN THAT SANDWHICH @datass00 replied: me watching that vid like [image attached below]

Then these things popped up on youtube:

proof matt smith and y/n have been dating all along 🤡🤡

Clip #1

I stick my hand in a jar and pull out a folded piece of paper. "Who's my celebrity crush," I read out the question, turning back to the camera, "I have long list," I refold the paper as I push it beneath my seat, "and the unfortunate king of that, currently, is Matt Smith."

*cut to a bunch of 🤡🤡🤡 and really loud background music*

One of the staff asks, off camera, "why unfortunate?"

"Well," I chuckle, crossing my arms, "if you know me, then you know when I like something so, so much, I end up hating it." I straighten up, "yeah, Matt Smith may or may not have been subjected to verbal abuse as of late."

I chuckle as I hear a few of the staff wheeze.

I raise a hand and cut through the air, "affectionately, affectionately."

Clip #2

There is an abrupt cut to a sound of a crowd cheering.

Matt leans in, scrunching his face as he brings the mic close to his lips, "sorry, love, what was that?"

*The clip is replayed twice and captioned [IM SORRY THE WAY HE SAID THAT WAS JUST SO HOT I HAD TO REPEAT IT]*

The crowd is gracious enough to quiet down, keeping their fangirling internal.

"Is there an actor or actress that you have not yet worked with but always wanted to?" the lucky fan asks her question again.

Matt hums, leaning back on his sofa chair, repeating the words for good measure. He pulls the mic away as he thinks, then brings it back, "you know what, I have been lucky enough to work with some amazing people," he starts, "but-"

The crowd cheers.

Matt smiles and releases a chuckle, waving the mic around, "but," he carefully says, "I have recently watched Vampire in the Locker for the first time."

The crowd cheers again.

"Yeah, and thought y/n was absolutely fabulous in it."

Someone in the crowd says loudly, "same!"

The crowd, along with Matt, laughs. He straightens up and points, "that person gets it!"

But what it really took was this Instagram post to destroy the internet:

@imthebesty/n: ok but you cant get mad a me, i was there during superwholock. at least one of us won!! ps, he's a horrible cook, i promise you don't want him. i took one for the team 😇

That paired with headlines like:

Y/N confirms relationship with Matt Smith on Instagram with hilarious caption

Matt Smith cooks horribly, according to girlfriend, Y/N, who confirmed rumors with Instagram post

"I took one for the team," Y/N says in Instagram post, referring to dating Matt Smith

Tumblr but all stayed sane:

winchester-pie: Are you normal, or are you losing your mind overthinking one of the superwholock girlies is secretly y/n 369,278 notes dont-talk3me: When I gaslight people, it's bad, when y/n gaslights people, it's taking one for the team? 16,586 notes uowbish: I'm gonna say it: I DONT CARE THAT YOU'RE DATING MATT SMITH YOU SHOULD BE DATING ME [image attatched] 99,345 notes sh3l0ck3D: thinking about how y/n once said that she wrote fanfiction that was popular online. i should have known it was superwholock, she unhinged as fuck. 836,084 y/nb00tyluv: OK but i genuinely think y/n and matt smith talked for 5 minutes then decided to date after that 74,670 notes prettyeyebrows: ok but tell me y/n doesn't look like the type to make memes like this [image attached below] 424,245 notes

The cherry on top was when Vogue magazine graced the world with this brilliant interview:

I introduce myself and turn to my side, smiling at the man next to me.

"I'm Matt, and today we-"

"Smith."

Matt turns to me, words going dry.

"You're Matt Smith," I correct, blinking at him.

Matt looks at me for a good moment then raises a hand between our faces, turning back to the camera, "and today, we're going to be-" he cuts himself off with a laugh when he hears me laughing.

He drops his hand and gives me a look before continuing, "we're going to be answering some questions for-"

Matt points to me so that I finish his sentence.

"Vogue magazine!" I say, making the man beside me clap his hands.

The most played part of that interview is this scene:

Matt is reading from a card, "if you could have something of the other's, what would it be?" He chucks the card away, turning to me just as I turn to him.

I mutter under my breath as I think, "something of the other's?"

Matt furrows pouts his lips out in thought.

A beat of silence passes.

We then simultaneously trail off as we both whisper, "like a baby."

I wheeze and lean into Matt, dying of laughter. He snorts and beams like a boy on Christmas, dropping his jaw low.

"No," I warn as I raise a finger through my chuckles, "behave."

Matt throws an arm around me as he lets out more deep laughs.

"The fact we both keep answering the same thing means me hang out too much."

He scoffs. "Clearly not enough though," Matt notes, making me glare at him and shake him off. He withdraws his arm, face still awfully pleased.

I give him a look, "your mother has been ingraining that ideation in your head too religiously."

"I mean," he grabs my hand. He looks at me for 3 whole seconds before sighing and saying, "you would make a great mother."

I purse my lips and sighing as well. I lean into him a bit as I softly admit, "and I think you would make a great father."

For a moment, the two of us look at each other.

I pull my hand away from him, moving to grab another card.

Here are a few of the most liked comments on that video:

Jason Stone: I have absolutely no idea who either of these people are and only watched this video because it autoplayed. Do I want them to get married and have babies though? Yes. Yes I do. 88.9k likes kpopinmybloodstream: matt the entire video:😍🥰😘 y/n the entire video: 😍🥰😘 me the entire video: 😍🥰😘 but single as fock 🤡🤡🤡 103k likes sowrr88: if i cant have what they have, i dont want it 94k likes