#some of my posts get notes but I’m not like

[luffington]

young master ♡

➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)

➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.7k

➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling

➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.

Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!

You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult. 

The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you. 

You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned. 

You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.

You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.

A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”

Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”

He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”

“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.” 

“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”

Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you. 

“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them. 

“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”

Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?

He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it. 

He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’. 

Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.

“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl. 

“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid. 

“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”

Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”

His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you. 

They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.

“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”

The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his. 

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind. 

You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.

“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again. 

“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip. 

You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core. 

Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants. 

He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”

“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”

“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later. 

A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more. 

Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.

His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”

“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.

“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”

“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.

“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”

You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.

You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”

Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.” 

“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.

Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”

A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.

“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.

You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.

“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”

A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet. 

“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”

“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”

Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy. 

But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness. 

Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.

“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix. 

“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”

“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.” 

You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss. 

He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.

“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer. 

You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname. 

He came hard. 

The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down. 

Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension. 

Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering. 

You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”

Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles. 

“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”

The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose. 

“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”

[norrizzandpia]

hey, totally ok if it’s not ur vibe, but i’d love to see an oscar fic where he’s helping his girlfriend or a childhood best friend when she’s feeling a bit down.

i keep thinking about that man helping clean a depression room and telling his girl not to be embarrassed and he’s there to help and they get it sorted and he just holds her. makes sure she’s eaten and drank something.

even if it’s just a drabble, i’d really appreciate it :) need that kinda care in my life rn, even if it’s fictional.

I made this girlfriend because it just felt softer idk

To Be Loved Is To Be Seen (OP81)

Summary: Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.

Warnings: this one is HEAVY on the family trouble, depression, anxiety, VERY ANGSTY but def cutest HAPPY ENDING

Note: i didn’t know if you wanted reader to be in a rut or have a reason for it so i just made a reason

Y/n’s first few months of university were hard. Not only was it due to the new course load, but also because of her parents lack of interest when it came to her life. It had been a gradual shift, starting from her last two years in high school and only getting stronger as time went on. They had always been there, overbearing at times, but, now, they posted pictures of their trips around the world, failing to answer her calls and texts. She felt selfish for wanting her parents’ attention as much as she did, but it was hard to fight. There were situations she had never dealt with before, she wanted her mom’s wise words and father’s funny remarks to get through it all. But, she sat alone in the darkness of her room without the guidance counselor she usually could count on. It felt as if she wasn’t enough to keep them there anymore. It was heart wrenching and it stewed within her at such volumes, it became too much.

That’s when Oscar noticed. Her boyfriend had always been attentive, noticing small things about her that no one else did, but the second her smile didn’t reach her eyes and her text messages became less frequent, it was almost as if he was staring her down in anticipation of some sort of sign. He didn’t begin to realize it was related to her parents until he caught a glimpse of her phone when they were together, the screen open to her conversations with her mother and all of the recent texts going completely unanswered. He knew she had always had a rocky relationship with them, but she spoke about them with such respect, he knew it would’ve bothered her to feel so unimportant.

Knocking on her door, his hands clutched the bag of her favorite food he had got on his walk to her apartment. He had planned this evening out for weeks, not telling her about it in worry that she would slip into a facade put together with a fake smile that made his skin crawl.

She opened it, her body tense and tired in a ratty shirt and shorts, “Oscar? What are you doing here?”

It was as if he saw her front go up, her posture straightening and that haunting smile which told him all too well how much pain she was in. He smiled softly, “I thought we could spend the night together.”

She closed the door enough to only peek her head through, “Osc, I’m so sorry, but I can’t tonight. I’m so busy.”

He stayed put, “That’s okay. I can wait on your couch.”

“No, Osc,” She said firmly, her face turning in the light and exposing the dark bags under her eyes.

He stepped closer to her, putting his hand on the door and looking down at her with a look that made her feel loved, “Y/n, let me in. I know you’re going through it. Let me be with you.”

Her resolve cracked, her smile dropping for a second and water suddenly pooling in her eyes, “You don’t want to come in here.”

He leaned against the door and cupped her cheek, “It won’t make me love you any less.”

With a sigh, Y/n pushed the door open, beckoning the boy into her home. He knew what to expect, he knew what it was like to reach the place she was in. So, when he saw the piles of clothes, half-eaten food on the counter with old dishes in the sink, and her little accessories put in the wrong places, something she would never usually do, he wasn’t surprised. If anything, he was happy she had let him in, literally and figuratively.

She picked at her nails beside him, swaying on her feet as she analyzed his every move. Part of her was trying to ready herself for him to walk out the door, give up on her because of whatever stood before them, but he gently set the food on the floor and ushered her into his embrace. His cheek laid against the top of her head, nestled in her hair, as he tightened his grip around her body. She smelled his cologne and felt his sweatshirt which made him feel all the more warm. There was something about his presence, she would later learn it was how safe she felt, that made the turmoils of her mind quiet as she began to cry. Y/n had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry for people who clearly didn’t care, but as Oscar rubbed her back and whispered how much he loved her, she realized it was never going to work.

Her breaking down wet the material of his sweatshirt, but Oscar just held her tighter, whispering how it was going to be okay and this would all pass.

“You’re so worth it all, Y/n,” He whispered, pecking the top of her ear as he smoothed down her hair.

She clutched his back before Oscar was moving her hands under his hoodie to feel the bare of his skin. He knew she loved that. And she did. Y/n’s tears began to dissipate as he told her why he was there.

“I’m with you in this. You aren’t alone. I’m here for you and I always will be. This,” He gestured to the space around them, holding her face in his hands and forcing her eyes to meet his, “doesn’t scare me at all, love. What does scare me, though, is the attempts at eating on the counter. Have you been eating other than that?”

She shook her head, “I tried. It’s too hard. I’m not hungry ever anymore.”

He titled his head with a small frown, “Well, maybe your favorite food will help, yeah? We’ll sit together and eat. We can go as slow as you want, or as fast. All up to you, baby.”

He kissed her forehead lightly before guiding her to the living room, one of the less dirty places, and setting her down on the cushions. He set it all behind him, not wanting to overwhelm her with everything he got, and took out what he knew she would want first. There was a dull sparkle in her eyes when he handed it to her, his heart lifted. It hadn’t been there when he first arrived.

She opened it slowly, eyeing the food she once ravished in seconds, and taking a utensil to pick at it. He looked at her, waiting patiently for her to take a bite. When she did, however small, he did too. When she did again, he did too.

She stopped, “Why aren’t you eating faster?”

He smiled, “Because I’ll take a bite when you do. I don’t mind, Y/n. I told you I’m in this with you.”

Her eyes gloss over as they dart between him and the food before taking another bite, giggling a bit when Oscar takes one of his own dish. She eats, he does too and their eyes never leave each other, offering unspoken support.

When the plastic boxes are gone and empty, Oscar has glasses of water randomly appearing in his grip, offering them to his girlfriend who has found herself tangled in that soft blanket he got her last Christmas. Her cheeks are a soft pink from the warmth of it coupled with the candle he lit in the midst of their dinner and she smiles when the cool liquid flows down her throat. Oscar stands over her, hands in his pockets and wondering how anyone could possibly ignore her texts. He wants to take a picture of her, remind her parents of the beauty they have in their reach. But, he also knows that any text he sends to them wouldn’t be one he should send to his potential (very likely) in-laws. So, he stays quiet and looks at her with the love she deserves.

“Do you need anything else?” He asks, pushing the hair out of her face.

She shakes her head, “No, I’m good. What movie do you want to watch?”

He kisses her cheek, “It’s up to you. I won’t be watching.”

Her eyebrows knot together and she cocks her head, “Why not? Is this some random pickup line where you’re going to tell me how you’ll only be watching me?”

He laughs, his head back, as he walks toward her room, “No, but that’s a good one. I’ll keep that for later. You put on whatever you want, baby. I’ll be cleaning.”

She crawls to the corner of the couch, watching him begin to pick up her room, “Clean? What? Why?”

He stops, turning around to look at her through the door, “Because I want to help you feel better and I know your apartment is stressing you out. You shouldn’t have to worry, love. Just relax. I’ll be done in a few hours.”

Her mouth is agape as he moves throughout her room, putting things away as if he knows where everything goes. He does, apparently. And when the shock of it wears off, a smile cements itself on her face as she turns on a random movie. She enjoys the soft humming of Oscar in the other room, answering his occasional question about the plot of the movie she’s watching. When he moves to the kitchen, out in the open and available to see what’s on the screen, Y/n falls asleep to the picture of her boyfriend doing her dishes and taking out her trash. Falling asleep with a warm heart mended by someone that has always loved her unconditionally.

—

She’s awoken by the feeling of soft mattress beneath her and Oscar’s arms heavy around her torso. He’s deep in sleep when she opens her eyes, has her completely enveloped in his grasp on her side. The room is dark, the window open and allowing for a cold breeze to flow through the room. She loves it. It’s cold outside, but Oscar keeps her warm. Her hands move their way up to his head, playing with his hair and staring at the man who has treated her so gently.

Tears fall down her face all so suddenly, sniffling lightly but still waking Oscar in the process.

He’s immediately worried, “What’s wrong?”

Her head drops to his chest, “I just love you so much and can’t tell you how much it meant to me that you stayed here even after seeing the state everything was in, including me.”

His soft hands leave her body and pull her face up to him. His eyes are dilated as he looks at her, “I would’ve done it yesterday and I’ll do it for the rest of our lives. I don’t want you to struggle alone. You don’t deserve that. You’ve done too much of that before you met me.”

If only her younger self could see her now. A younger girl worried she’d never find a man who loved her by seeing her now wholly adored by someone who didn’t just see her, but understood her too. She doesn’t even need to utter the problem, he already knows and she’s caught on to that since the moment he showed up at her door. His carefully chosen words about her worth and how easy it is to love her were all strategically placed in order to fix the cracks deep in her soul that have come undone at the hands of her parents.

“It’s just upsetting that they only loved me.” She whispers and for a second, Oscar doesn’t understand what she’s saying. But, the tense of her words dawns on him and the look on her face unleashes anger in his body. Loved. It’s upsetting that her parents loved her. They no longer do in her eyes. She once had parental support, love, but it’s obvious how transactional, conditional it was now. She got a taste of what it was like to be loved by them, but it was taken away when she needed it the most. She had mentioned to him before that growing up, she felt as if they used her presence to shy away from the problems of their marriage. When she was out of the house, she thought they would separate, but the opposite has happened. She served her purpose, now they throw money at trips to fill the void of what they have refused to face. Disregarded and thrown away, that’s the implications of what she’s confided.

He nods, tears in his eyes, “It’s so unfair of them to treat you this way. They’re your parents. They should be there for you, but they have never known how to love and you were just an unnecessary victim in it all.”

She wipes the moisture from her face, “I should just move on from the way they’ve treated me. I should give them grace because they’re my parents. I should just make peace with it all because this will never be fixed in the way I want it. But, I can’t.”

Oscar kisses the top of her head, “It’s okay that you can’t. That’s completely understandable. Giving grace just because they’re your family members isn’t right, Y/n. Just because there’s a blood relation doesn’t mean you can excuse their behavior. They’re your parents and they have neglected you for ages. You can’t keep giving everything to them, only to get nothing in return. Parents or not, you distance yourself from people who bring you down as much as they do.”

More tears smear against his chest, “But, they’re my parents, Osc.”

It’s as if he doesn’t know what to say because he knows how much she praises their drive and determination, giving her a life of privilege. Though, he stands firm on the idea that no one should be given a second chance if they “love” this way.

“I know, Y/n, and it’s so horrible that you’ve been put in this situation, but I think it would do you some good to let go of a part of them. You’ll go home and see them for birthdays, Christmases, but, in the time between, you don’t have to chase after them. You can find love in other things, happiness in other things. I’ll even do some of it with you. We can take up painting classes like you always wanted, walks in that park down the street that you love, studying in coffee shops, and watching the sunset. Life without them can be freeing.”

He’s right, she thinks. Life without them will be freeing. But, the story of letting go is never easy and finding yourself flipping to past chapters to hold onto something that isn’t there anymore is usual.

However, as she lays tangled in the limbs of Oscar, she finds future chapters to be more exciting, more fulfilling. Her whole life is ahead of her, one including Oscar, and that sudden revelation fills her with an overwhelming relief. His listing of all the things she loves, wants to try desperately reminds her just how in love with her he is. Every action of hers is noted by him and she’s spent years begging for that from her parents. She never got it, but maybe that was because something else softer lied in the cards for her. At times, her parents needed her, but they would always need something else more. Glamorous, shiny, new things that would satisfy them for a time. She would never be enough in the minds of them, but in the mind of Oscar, she was more than enough. It was clear she was everything to him.

A life with him would be different from the one handed to her on a broken, rusty platter. She wanted that with him and the way he looked at her told her he did too. Letting go of the dismissal of people she has killed herself for to make proud was maybe for the best, pushed her in the direction of focusing on Oscar and everything she’s ever wanted. Was this her mending old, deep wounds?

Loved and cherished, she found sleep once more, rejuvenated with hope and a sense of moving on.

[syrupfog]

Law has been in the basement of the auction house for almost two weeks when the new merch is brought in. 

He KNOWS Doffy has kept him here longer than necessary just to drag out Law’s suffering. He’s surely going to get sold to a Celestial Dragon immediately, but the waiting…

The waiting, the uncertainty is getting to him. 

But at almost two weeks — 13 days, exactly — the new merch is dragged in. A collection of raggedy pirates, a few fish men, and one guy who, for some reason, doesn’t seem to have had his spirit broken yet.

And of course he’s the one who sits himself down right next to Law. 

At a glance Law sees the sea stone cuffs that designate a devil fruit user. He notes the ridiculous straw hat. He frowns at his grin. 

“Hey,” the guy says. “I’m Luffy, and I’m going to be king of the pirates.”

Law snorts. He’s cuffed to the wall, like this guy probably will be soon, so he can’t move away, but he closes his eyes. “You’re going to be sold to Celestial Dragons and die within the month,” he says. 

“No,” the guy— Luffy— says, sounding petulant. “I’m getting out.”

“Sure you are,” Law says, rolling his eyes. “Because unlike everyone else who’s come through these doors, you’re SPECIAL, yeah?” 

“You’re a jerk,” Luffy says, but he doesn’t sound too put out. “My crew will come for me, don’t worry.”

Law’s heard that before. “Uh huh,” he says. 

“They just gotta find me first,” Luffy muses. “I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. But I trust them!” He wiggles into a comfortable position and his chains rattle. “What’s your name? Do you have friends coming for you?”

“Trafalgar Law,” Law says, because he gets the feeling the conversation will continue with or without his participation. “And no.” 

“Oh,” says Luffy with a frown. “That’s okay, Traffy! You can come with us!” 

“Trafalgar,” says Law. “Not Traffy.”

Luffy laughs. “You’re funny,” he says. Then he frowns. “Do you know when we’re getting food? I’m hungry.” 

Law’s been getting one meal a day, from his estimations. There’s no windows to tell time by, just the changing of the guards. “It’ll be a bit,” he says.

“Awww,” Luffy says. His stomach growls in agreement. Pathetic. He’ll be crying within the day. 

… 

Luffy is NOT crying within the day. 

Luffy also will not shut UP. 

He quickly decides that “Traffy” is his best friend, much to Law’s dismay. He talks about EVERYTHING.

Law quickly comes to know the names of everyone on Luffy’s ship. Hell, he knows the LAYOUT of the ship. He knows Luffy’s favourite food (meat) and favourite drink (milk) and favourite seat (“the lion” whatever that is). 

Most of the others in the basement with them do get their cuffs chained to the wall, but the guards seem SCARED of Luffy for some ungodly reason, so he continues to sit practically pressed against Law. 

Law misses being alone. 

Although this is the most human he’s felt in weeks.

Also, Luffy cons several others out of their meals, in exchange for things like scratching itches they can’t reach, or just sneaking bites when people aren’t looking. 

He doesn’t touch the roll on Law’s plate until Law specifically tells him to take it, though.

Luffy is down there with Law for three days, and suddenly Law is dreading when Luffy gets dragged up to auction and Law is left alone again. He didn’t think he would care that much, but… it’s a sad, aching sort of longing that Luffy has quickly filled sitting with him and acting like Law matters. Like he’s not just a pawn in a game he can never win. 

So, for three days, Law grows comfortable with him. Familiar. Basks in Luffy’s odd light. 

He never should’ve let himself get that comfortable.

Law is lightly dozing when it starts, his head on Luffy’s. But suddenly Luffy is jumping up, and there’s— 

There’s an eye, blinking at them, having materialised on the floor between them. 

An eye and an ear. 

“Robin!” Luffy shouts. The posted guard looks over in confusion.

Lips appear, along with a hand that holds a finger to the lips, and Luffy, SHOCKINGLY, makes a motion of zipping his lips. 

Law didn’t know he knew how to DO that. 

Then the face, such that it was, disappears. Luffy looks to him with a grin. “I told you,” he says.

It’s only moments later when the door to the room slams open, falling off its hinges, and no less than SEVEN PEOPLE come rushing into the room in various states of arguing with each other. One by one they spot Luffy and start cheering, even as they’re making war with the guards.

Law feels the sinking in his stomach as Luffy runs to the front of the bars and a HUGE blue haired man — must be Franky, Law thinks — opens his hands to reveal smaller hands that tinker with Luffy’s cuffs. They drop to the floor without much of a fight and suddenly Luffy’s energy is BOUNDLESS. 

The green haired one — Zoro — cuts through two of the bars and Luffy slips out easily, suddenly engulfed in crew mates who love him even as they chastise him for getting caught. 

Law sits there, and watches freedom happen in front of him, just out of reach.

He’ll miss Luffy, he thinks, even as he tries to tamp down on that thought. That’s not the sort of fate he’s destined for. Cora tried his best, but Law’s never escaped Doffy’s grasp. 

Luffy’s crew starts back toward the door, ushering him along with warnings about a count down

And for a moment they really do disappear through the doorway, although the broken door means their voices are clear. 

And Law sits there, surrounded by others whose spirits are as broken as his, all cuffed to the wall as they can see the hole in the bars made by the swordsman.

He hopes Luffy does accomplish his dream. He hopes at least one of them does. 

And then, suddenly, startling him out of his thoughts, Luffy comes crashing back through the doorway, the blond and green haired ones in tow (and arguing about something).

Luffy points to Law and both of the others converge on him. Law shrinks back and grits his teeth, but all that happens is a sword hits one chain and a foot hits the other and suddenly he’s not attached to the wall anymore.

“Let’s GO, Traffy!” Luffy yells, grabbing Law’s wrist and hauling him upward. 

And suddenly Law is. Running. 

He’s barely eaten or moved in two weeks, but— L

uffy’s hand is around his wrist and pulling him forward. 

And Law grips Luffy’s wrist in return. Like a lifeline. 

He can hear Luffy laugh, the way he laughs through his teeth

And after a maze of hallways they’re out into the bright, bright sunshine 

And Luffy turns, looks at Law, grins at Law, 

Luffy is the sun. Luffy is freedom. 

“Come with me,” he says, hand still clutched tight to Law like it belongs there. 

And Law follows.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: have a good weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

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I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stand, still uncertain. You look at the king as he tilts his face up to the moonlight. The silver sheen washes over him with an unearthly glow. He looks lupine, much like your dream.  

“Your highness?” You echo again, hands curling around the sides of your skirt. 

“Will you continue to disregard my order?” He challenges as his gold eyes meet yours. You wince at the way they shine. 

“No, your highness, I am only...” you hush yourself and clamp your lips tight. You turn and search around, numbly walking along the curve of the pond.  

He growls as you reach the line of hedges into the next walkway. 

“You will want to go much faster than that,” he warns as you hear him stand. “I will allow you some advance...” He exhales as you glance back at him, “ten...” he stares at you, his figure shrouded in shadow from far away, “nine...” 

You blanch and tumble backward through the gap. You spin and stagger on your soles, throwing your arms out as your heart pulses madly. Something about his timbre, about his words, has you alight. There is something amiss about him. 

You push your legs against your skirts and hurry blindly into the nocturnal void. The moonlight seeps in around the silhouette of leaves as you keep your hands ahead of you to prevent a collision. You try to see through the dark, like silk across your eyes, making out little more than hazy orbs. 

You crash into a thicket of thorns and pull away from the rosy bunch. Their scent clings onto you as you turn to the left and dive down the next path. You don’t know these gardens, not like Debray. For all you know, you’re going even deeper.  

You hear a step behind you and swirl to face it. You squint, trying to see who is there. Is it the king? Do you want it to be? What does he mean to do when he catches you? What is the meaning of this game? 

You plunge back into a sprint, puffing as you pump your arms. You whimper and whine as you slow, legs heavy and feet dull. Where are you going? You don’t like this. You remember a night like this before, how the cold dew of the forest crept up your legs, feet hitting the earth in quick succession, the holler of men and snort of horses behind you. 

You stagger and spin back. No, you can’t run anymore. You don’t like this. You don’t like those thoughts. That last night before you were taken to Debray, before you dawned the cap of your bearing. That orphan girl running from servitude. 

You walk forward, shaking as you peer back and forth. You wade through the thick grey air. You hear a twig snap and a bush rustle, each noise from a different direction. Perhaps it is a rabbit or a chipmunk. You sniffle and wring your hands. 

You must find the king. You will surrender this game and ask that he takes you back to the castle. You trudge over the beaten path and hear the soft trickle ahead. It must be the pond. The silver light blooms brighter as you come upon a space in the hedges. 

Suddenly, there is only air beneath your feet. You kick out as something rigid wraps around your waist and lifts you. You wriggle desperately and cry out, your eyes tinging but not overflowing. Your fear has you clawing at the hold around your middle. 

“Please, please, don’t hurt me!” You plead as you flail, “please, sir, I’ll go back to the castle--” you choke as the grasp on you slackens but your feet still do not meet the ground. You quiet as you recall your present, that you are not in that forest, that you are far from Debray. 

You are sat upon the bench, the silver moon gleaming down on you as it outlines the broad shadow before you. King Geralt faces you, kneeling as you tremble and hug yourself. You put your head down in shame. 

“Apologies, your highness, I was lost,” you reach to rub your cheek, flicking back your tears with your lashes, “I got confused.” 

“No, it is I who should apologise, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he takes your hand between his big ones, “I only meant to make some fun.” He brushes his touch up your arms and squeezes as you drop your hand to your lap, “little maid, did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head, “I was only... delirious. It is too dark out here. I cannot see,” you bite down and look away, “apologies, I did act out.” 

“Little maid,” he tickles along your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine, “I would not let you get lost or hurt.” He tilts his hand to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “what was it you were running from in your head? Who?” 

“No one,” you lie. “Just a memory.” 

“Memories are not just that,” he insists, “but I understand how they can hurt. Forgive me, treasure, I wasn’t--” 

“Your highness,” the sullen voice has the king recoiling. He quickly plants his foot and stands. You rise as well, toying with that word he called you. Treasure. “The queen sends for you.” 

Bryce steps out into the moonlight. You look at him then the ground. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? 

“The queen,” King Geralt grumbles, “what is it she wants? It is late--” 

“She would not say and I would not guess,” Bryce says, “but she screams for it. Like a yowling cat.” 

The king sighs and lowers his head. He squares his shoulders and resets his posture. He steps away from you and gestures to his soldier. The king twists around and marches away. Bryce falls into pace with you as you follow. He is silent, you all are. 

You approach the castle, guards lurking in the shadows, and are let past the front doors by a sombre pair. Inside, you follow the king through the great hall and up the stairs. You peek over at Bryce as you proceed down the corridor. He gently squeezes your wrist, just briefly, and carries on. 

“Your highness,” Bryce speaks as you hear a racket ahead of you; screeching and crashing. “Should I escort the maid back to her chambers?” 

“Cursed woman,” King Geralt mutters as he slows, Queen Jazlene’s door just ahead. He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “the cost of a kingdom...” 

“Your highness?” Bryce prompts once again. 

You echo him and step forward, “I could calm her. Bring some wine--” 

“No, she will have no more of that,” the king declares sharply. “I wed her, I put my name next to hers, so it is I shall attend to her. Sir,” he looks at Bryce, “do as you suggest, put the maid in her chambers and I will put the queen in her place.” 

“Aye, your highness,” Bryce bows his head and points you back, “come, maid, the night wears on.” 

You glance up at the king. His golden eyes are wrought as his gaze holds yours for only an instant. You see the hesitation bob in his throat before he turns away. You mirror him and follow Bryce back along the corridor. 

As you climb to the next floor and continue down another corridor, Bryce slows. He stops as he gets to the door and faces you. He takes a breath as he looks you up and down. 

“It’s treacherous here in the summer kingdom,” he says, “but that will not change on the road. Mouse, you keep yourself well.” 

“Thank you, sir, I am fine.” 

“Aye, you do not take my meaning but you do not take the king’s either,” he puts his hand on his belt, “his favour might do you fine in this moment, but it is dangerous. Let not others notice so they may not envy it.” 

You grimace and shake your head, “what do you mean?” 

“Your little games do not need an audience. It is no tournament.” 

Your chest sinks and your skin speckles. Is he accusing you of something? 

“I... I haven’t done anything untoward. I would not, sir--” 

“You may not,” he intones, “but we are all ruled by the will of the king.” 

“Sir, the king is married to Lady Jazlene--” 

“And we both see how they fare,” he states bluntly. “Carry my words with you, do with them as you may, but I could not leave them unsaid.” 

Your eyes gloss and your nose tingles once more. He’s mad. Truly, he can’t think you and King Geralt. A maid and her master. 

“I would not,” you repeat. 

He huffs and nods curtly. He turns to the door and unlatches it, “go, rest your head while you can.” 

“Sir Bryce--” 

“I am bid protect you by the king,” he pushes the door inward and rests his hand on the frame, “not from him.” He looks past you, as if through, “little mouse, I do hope I am wrong as well but I know better than to depend on that.” 

You shudder and tug at the end of your sleeve. You slump and drag your feet through the doorway. You stop, just inside, “good night, sir.” 

He grunts and pulls the door shut. Your lip trembles as your heart races, just as it did in the garden. He is wrong. He must be. You saw yourself how the king is trying, he even said it was the queen he meant to game with earlier. It was only that she was too unwell. He said it! 

And he goes to the queen’s chamber that night. He is not there. He has not been disloyal. The matter is not your concern. You serve wine, you lace gowns, you braid hair. You are only the maid. 

⚔️

You return to the queen’s service the next morning. The world is a bit more familiar as you help her into her gown and twine her hair into an elaborate coif. Servants pass in and out of her chambers as they prepare for the royal party’s imminent departure. 

“Why can we not keep this capital?” Queen Jazlene whines, “but my husband does insist on return to his frigid homelands.” 

You say nothing as you sift through the old monarch’s jewelry chest. You present to her successor each gem, brooch, and chain. She has yet to turn any away though you wonder if there would be room in her already bustling luggage. Perhaps the cart will be a touch more crowded on your ride north. 

“And yet my husband did come to me,” she boasts, “I think... hmm, well, perhaps this marriage won’t be so turbulent.” 

You show her a cuff and she snatches it. She puts it on her wrist, turning her arm this way and that, as she oohs and aahs. She wiggles excitedly. 

“I recall this piece. One year, when I came with father to court, the queen wore this cuff. You see the emeralds. I remember she was so proud of it even though all the court knew it was only gifted to her by her husband to distract from his mistress,” she trills, “oh, how foolish. But the old queen was so boring. It is a wonder the king didn’t dispose of her, who can blame him for taking an amour?” 

She sighs and looks at the mirror, “and she wasn’t half so pretty as me.” 

You remain silent, continuing to sort with her endless approval. You don’t think there is a single trinket she could ever turn away. You don’t see the need for so many of the same thing. Some stones are brighter than others but why not keep the brightest and do away with the rest. 

“As I was saying,” she goes on, “last night when the king came to me, he was... almost meek. That man. Can you imagine? I admit I was distraught after the day I suffered but he listened and we spoke.” She strokes her fingers as she admires her oval nails. “There are some southern lords who will come north as well, some northern to stay behind. He says it will help us acquaint the two kingdoms into one.” 

She drops her hands and pushes her shoulders straight, “he is wise. I suppose I should heed him if I am to be a good queen.” 

You are want to agree but to do so aloud may be taken as insult. She might have done it sooner and saved herself some trouble. Yet it isn’t your place and you haven’t the wisdom of a queen. You’re merely a servant. 

“Once I give him an heir, he will have to listen to me too. Yes, I will do what mother could never. Give my husband a son,” she drags her hand to her midsection, “I think last night...” she flutters her lashes dreamily. Her suggestion makes you squirm. Her and the king’s relations are hardly your concern. “It was better,” her voice is brittle, “even if...” she peers around and clamps her lips. She narrows her dark eyes, “close the door.” 

You obey. You come back to her and return to your previous task. She reaches in to pluck out a string of pearls. 

“He puts me on my stomach,” she whispers, almost as if she thinks you won’t hear, but she is speaking to you. There is no one else in the room. Perhaps she is only embarrassed that she has only to the courage to tell a maid. “And he behind me so I can’t see him and... he can’t see me but... but if he could...” she toys with the pearls, “if he’d just look at me, he might like it better.” 

You lift a pair of medallions earrings and she ignores them. She tosses the pearls back in the chest and stands. You back away. 

“He won’t let me touch him otherwise,” she mulls as she paces. “But he is warming. It is early, isn’t it? And compared to the first night... I don’t know. It will get better. It must.” 

She quiets and stands by the window. Her anxiety is palpable. It’s uncharacteristic. You’ve never seen her uncertain of anything yet you can understand it. She is soon to set off to a new life and to brave a long road. When she reaches her destination, she will be a true queen. When you get there, you’ll still be a maid. 

“I’ll go to him tonight,” she says and raises her head, “yes, yes, I will go to him and try again.” She spins and smirks at her grand idea, “maid, I must find something to wear for him. Well, nothing very much,” she remarks coyly, “but I will need a robe. Yes, I saw a satin one in the queen’s closet.” She swallows and stands as straight as she can, “my closet.” 

You diligently cross the chamber and search the wardrobe. You find a white satin robe stitched with gold and silver. You turn to show the queen. She giggles and claps her hands. 

“Wine,” she says, “I must find some courage too.” 

[thoughtless-muse]

a/n: the title (and some other parts of the story) are inspired by the song ‘bad blood’ by taylor swift and no, i am not ashamed of it lmao. this is my first time ever diving into this type of story, so I’m equal parts excited and terrified. if you have any critiques/tips, please let me know below! also, “scout’s honor” is by no means abandoned. I’m going to be writing/posting chapters of each story at their own pace :)

chapter summary: you had been alone for over a month now, combating against stumbling dead people who slobbered for your flesh. when a random stranger finds you in the aftermath of a blackout, the last thing you expected was for him to ask you to join his group. but he did, and in a desperate move to escape those four walls, you accepted – not knowing at all what was in store for you.

word count: 2.4k

c/w: canon-typical violence/gore, sassy!reader, fem!reader, language, past-established relationship, very subtle allusions to a troubled past

prologue

“hey, lady, are you, uh… are you okay?”

the words were garbled and a tad distorted, and for a moment, you thought you’d merely conjured the voice from the depths of your frayed conscious — but the boyish face that stared down at you when you fluttered your eyes open threw that theory straight out of the window.

for a moment, you simply stared in silence. you stared at the boy’s face, taking note of the pink flush of life to his flesh — not gray, not rotted, not bloody; pink. his face was clammy, sweaty, with the skin pulled in different directions to paint an expression of worry; an honest to god expression.

a person. this was a living, breathing, real person standing above you. at least, he seemed real enough, but —

“are you real?”

the question bubbled, croaky and hoarse, past your lips before you could reign it in. the boy scrunched his bushy brows together and his squinted eyes narrowed until they were near closed. a clear expression of confusion. huh, another expression.

“um, yeah, I am.” the boy responded, though, in his bewilderment, the statement sounded more like a question than a fact. a laugh wrenched itself from your chest.

“you don’t sound too confident about that, mystery man.”

“I-I’ve just never been asked that question before.” the boy sputtered, a tad defensively, lips pulling into a frown. expression after expression from this one, it seemed.

“I haven’t had to ask that question before,” you grumbled out. pain pinched your ribs when you propped yourself up on your elbows, no longer feeling the need to lay flat on the warm pavement. “don’t exactly see new faces in the city much, let alone breathing ones.”

“you mean you’ve been in the city this whole time?” the boy exclaimed quietly; his eyes were wide now, revealing orbs the shade of dark chocolate. they weren’t fogged over, dead, or unseeing, but glassy and expressive. human.

a ragged, raspy croak broke off your sentence before you could even start it. your muscles jolted in response, but before you could react, the boy let out a shocked yelp that was followed quickly by a wet squelch right next to you. you trailed your eyes down to find a small hand-ax splitting the rotted flesh of the groaner to your right. the one you swore you’d killed not long ago.

“huh. thought I got that one,” you noted mellowly, swinging your eyes back up to the boy to give him a small nod. “thanks.”

“yeah, uh, no problem.” the boy panted, returning your nod. his eyes darted from side to side before he thrust out a hand to you. all you could do was stare at it.

“it’s not safe out here in the open. we should really get inside a building or something,” the man suggested, words edged with subtle nervousness. you scanned your surroundings slowly; there was a cluster of groaners shuffling towards you, but they were at least twenty yards away — not much of a threat given the granny crawl they were traveling at.

mystery man, however, became more nervous at the sight of them.

“c’mon, I know a place that’s clear. it’s not far from here.” he urged, extended hand trembling faintly. you let out a huff and grasped it with your own. your ribs bloomed with pain once again when the man hauled you up, but you bit back the groan that it prompted; you’d had worse than this, and you’d long since learned to suck it up and just keep truckin’.

when you were stable on your feet the man released your hand and reached down to free the hand-ax from the fallen groaner’s head, his face scrunching in disgust at the wet sucking sound the action elicited. it actually amused you to an extent.

“okay, mystery man, lead the way to safety.” you stated flippantly, manipulating your arm in a ‘the stage is yours’ sort of gesture. the man gave you a bit of a stinky side-eye before jerking his head to the left.

“it’s just this way,” he whispered. he padded to the sidewalk quietly, head whipping in each direction, body tense as if he expected a groaner to simply jump out unannounced at any moment.

what a scaredy cat, you thought jocularly.

“also, my name is glenn, not ‘mystery man.’” he added in a mutter.

you merely hummed in acknowledgment, more so for the man than yourself; you knew that by sundown he’d be gone with the wind, you’d forget all about this glenn fellow, and his name would be lost to your memory forever. no point in trying to stick it there in the first place.

silently, glenn led you through skinny, trashed back alleys and skirted past dilapidated structures, until at last he reached a large brick building. the door, which looked to be some sort of emergency exit, was a cool, gray metal, the hinges lined with rust and the surface slightly bleached from the harsh rays of the sun.

“it’s in here,” glenn murmured, grasping the handle and yanking it open. the hinges gave a deep, audible screech as he did so. “we cleared this out a few days ago.”

“we?” you parroted, trepidation flaring in your gut. it was fine when it was just glenn, but the thought of a group of people, one composed of unknown numbers, set off all kinds of alarms in your head.

groaners you could handle any day of the week; they were predictable, simple — just ambling corpses with no real thought process. humans… humans were different. complex, unpredictable, dangerous.

glenn noticed immediately when you hadn’t followed him through the threshold of the door; he glanced back at you, brows scrunched once more in confusion — it only took him a few moments to register the look upon your face before his eyes were widening and he was sputtering, “o-oh, it’s fine, my group isn’t – uh, they’re not dangerous. they won’t hurt you. and in any case, they aren’t w-with me today – I always make runs alone.”

“I’m s’posed to take your word for it?” you shot back, eyes narrowed dangerously. glenn gulped audibly and flicked his eyes between you and the interior of the building, lips working without producing any sound. he looked so helpless, like a lost puppy, that you couldn’t stop yourself from deflating.

“I believe you,” you uttered. “at least, I will for now. I mean, you don’t look all that dangerous. I reckon I could knock you on your ass in two seconds flat.”

a threat wrapped up within a petulant jab; not exactly your proudest moment, but part of you felt cornered, and it seemed to get the job done. glenn’s eyes flashed with surprise, and maybe a bit of fear, and his voice was less than stable when he murmured, “there’s no one else in there, I swear.”

the tense set of his shoulders, his wide eyes, and the shakiness in his voice seemed so genuine, that you couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“are you actually scared of me, mystery man?” you jested, genuinely bemused by how sincerely glenn considered your concealed threat. was he actually taking you seriously? glenn’s throat flexed as he swallowed and nodded.

“well, I just watched you take down about a dozen geeks with just a pocket knife; so, yeah, kind of.”

you chuckled to yourself and gave glenn a once over. maybe he wasn’t so bad, after all. he appeared genuine and harmless. kinda cute, too; in an innocent, boyish way, of course – boyish had never exactly been your style, but you could enjoy the aesthetic of it.

“well, glenn, why don’t you go ahead and show me around?” you purred, rolling his name across your tongue and not bothering to wait for a verbal confirmation. you pushed past glenn and into the dank, dusty building, eyes immediately sweeping across the bare shelves and stained walls. not a groaner, nor human, in sight.

glenn ambled further in and shut the door behind him with a soft whoosh and click. the room became near saturated in darkness, the only light being that of the sunlight filtering weakly through the gaps between the boards nailed to the windows. glenn wasn’t lying when he said it had been cleared out, but he didn’t mention anything about it being groaner-proof.

“is this, like, where your group stays or somethin’?” you inquired, your eyes narrowed and scrutinizing of every detail. there were no mats or makeshift beds that you could see, no visible provisions, and the space lacked the tell-tale signs of human inhabitance.

“oh, no, uh, this is just a rendezvous point – or, it will be. like I said before, I mostly do runs on my own.” glenn passed by you as he explained, coming to a kneel in the middle of the floor where the sunlight was most luminous. he slipped a large, beige bag from his shoulder and planted it on the ground, flipping the top and burying his hand inside.

“runs?” you wondered aloud, watching the man closely as he began to pull items from the bag one by one. medical gauzes, bottles of hydrogen peroxide, boxes of bandaids, a couple cans of vegetables occupied the space beside him bit by bit.

“yeah, runs. we made a camp a while back, at an old quarry just outside the city. food and water aren’t much of issue there, but other things” – glenn glanced up at you a bit sheepishly – “well, they run short sometimes.”

“so they send you out alone to get them?” you surmised, prompting an airy chuckle from the kneeling man.

“ah, no, I actually offered. I know the city like the back of my hand. getting in and out is no problem for me.”

you nodded your understanding, chewing the tender skin on the inside of your cheek – you were inclined to believe glenn, considering he had yet to prove himself untrustworthy, but there was something that was gnawing at you; something that you needed some clarification on.

“so, uh, if you came out here to get supplies, why’d’ya come over to me? and why did you bring me here?”

glenn paused his task for a brief moment before sighing softly. his lips thinned as he seemed to ponder how to answer.

“because I made a promise to myself. I told myself that if I ever ran across someone here in the city, I’d ask if they want to come back with me,” glenn answered quietly, though by the clench of his jaw, you could tell he wasn’t quite done with his explanation, so you bit back the other questions swirling on your tongue. “I guess I just hoped to myself that if the roles were ever reversed, someone would do the same for me.”

the residual tension that had been locking up your shoulders ever since entering the building drained away like a river to the ocean. you smiled softly and plopped down on the floor a few feet away from glenn. with a teasing warmth in your chest, you queried, “so you saw me and decided you wanted me to come home with you?”

glenn rolled his eyes, but the flush in his cheeks betrayed the effect your suggestive comment had on him.

“not like that, it’s just – it’s just that things aren’t as easy as they used to be. your best chance at survival is with a group.”

“I’ve done fine on my own,” you responded back flippantly, planting your palms behind you and leaning your weight back atop them. “I mean, I’ve been here since it started.”

glenn swiped his tongue over his bottom lip nervously, scanning through the contents on the floor before rapidly scooping them back into his bag.

“yeah, I, uh, I noticed that you’re capable. it’s just that – things won’t always be so easy, you know?”

irritation shot through your chest like a hot lance, your somewhat good mood ruined instantly.

“did I say it was easy?” you seethed, anger punctuating your every movement as you swung your hands back in front of you and leaned forward.

just as it had at the door, glenn’s mouth began to open and close rapidly as he tried desperately to recover. his wide eyes flicked down to your waistline, the area he knew held your pocket knife, and he scooted back a small bit while simultaneously dragging his bag in front of his body; an attempt to keep distance between the two of you.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that – that without a group, surviving will get harder and harder.”

you weren’t entirely sure if it was from lack of sleep, stress, or the cursed, buried memories that had been incessantly dragging themselves back up despite your multiple efforts to keep them down, but you had been highly irritable the last few days. every time you closed your eyes, you saw his face, you heard his voice, taunting you with the sweet nothings he whispered long ago. you still felt his phantom touches that had long since grown cold.

you just wanted it to stop.

you wanted to find the strength to throw that little box out of the fucking window, and to burn that one shirt he left, the only things left to remind you that he wasn’t just some conjured fever dream. that’s why you’d been out in the street in the first place, drawing as many groaners as you could to yourself just so you could picture his face as you plunged your knife through their soft, rotten skulls.

and maybe, just maybe, find the strength to drop the knife and let it end.

but you just couldn’t. you couldn’t throw the box out, you couldn’t burn the shirt, and you most definitely couldn’t let yourself die; it went against everything he taught you.

with a sigh, you opened your eyes, which you had never even remembered closing, and regarded glenn once more. his eyes were still wide, clouded with something that was a mixture of nervous and worried, his hand trembled atop his bag, and his bottom lip wavered.

“you said you promised yourself that you’d invite whoever you found in the city to your camp, yeah?” you quizzed, the question one that glenn had not expected you to ask, if the brief confusion on his face was any indicator. after a moment’s hesitance, glenn nodded.

“yeah… our camp is pretty well established, and I know we’ve got room for others. does that, uh – does that mean you want to come back with me?”

you’d never second guessed your choices, nor the consequences of those choices, and you weren’t about to start now — so, with a cheeky smile and a wink, you purred,

“sure thing, glenn. I’ll come home with you.”

a/n: so I recently checked my analytics and uh… 114 followers?? what??? like I’m — I’m speechless y’all. thank you so so much I can’t even begin to express how much it means to me <3 I promise I’ll be doing my best to dutifully deliver content to y’all as fast as possible <33333

TAGLIST: @daryldixmedown @alanalanalanalanalanna @just-always-tired @chylerluvschim @girlydollydarling @marvelcasey05

[russellsppttemplates]

Hiii girl 🪻💐! First, nice to meet you xx ! I really love your vibe. Love purple pp 💜! Can I request a small os, please? I saw you wrote monegasque reader and all cute os. Can I ask you (you choose) Lando/Charles/Oscar with inked!reader (like full arms tattoos and stuff) it’s always wag so ✨perfect clean✨, I’m tired to see the clean vibe, I want to be delulu with rockie vibe, feminine tattooed wag, normal wag 😬. Topic could be : new tattoo with driver reaction or handle with people opinion. Thanks 💜🪻 if you’re not feeling to write it, it’s okay too. Have a nice day xx

Note: hiiii! Welcome to this little corner of the Internet I made along with everyone who follows this blog! Thank you - this is supposed to be as much a safe pace for you as it is for me 🫶 I hope you had a good day, too! 🫶

"Someone spotted you when you left the tattoo studio", Oscar said as he stepped inside the apartment after having spent the day in the Center, noticing you were wearing a cardigan even though it was a warm day out, "they posted a picture online".

"So it's not a surprise, is it?", you slumped your shoulders slightly, shrugging the cardigan off.

"I don't know what you got, so it's still a surprise, sweetheart", he smiled, hugging you and being mindful of the wrap around your arm.

Oscar sat on the sofa and allowed you to model the new tattoos for him. Your right arm didn't seem to have any new ink to it, the same three tattoos you had in there still looking beautiful after two years. You like the idea of having one arm slightly more bare than the other so your right arm only had those three on the inner side of it, peeking through whenever you were sleeveless tops. Your left arm was the one where the tattoos were the most noticeable, the ink pieces scattered along the extension of the limb.

"I got this one, it's a bee", you pointed to the inner part of your arm, "it represents my safe hive, the people who are always there for me even if I'm not there in person", you explained. You had moved in with Oscar a couple of months ago and, more than ever, you spent long periods of time away from your family since you travelled to see your boyfriend race as much as you could, "I know I can fly away, but no matter how far and how hard times can be, I'll always be able to come back".

"It looks so pretty, the detail on the wings is so precise", Oscar pointed out.

"I chose the artist at that studio because she is great at doing the fine line tatoos with red ink", you began again, smoothing out through wrap so Oscar could see, "it's a heart with some flowers blooming from it", you pointed to the anatomical drawing, "whenever I set myself to do something, I pour my heart and soul into it, and my intuition hasn't failed me, so it's a little symbol to that".

"The red is somehow both subtle against your skin and so eye catching as well, I think it's the contrast with this one here", Oscar lightly touched an older tattoo you had next to the new one.

"Then I got this one, which I am quite nervous to show you, actually", you admitted, looking at your right wrist and covering it for the mean time, "I know people are really fussy with having a relationship tattooed on you because things can change so fast, but I don't like to think like that - my tattoos represent times of my life and things that happened - and if anything happens and I can't absolutely tolerate it, I can always remove it", you shrugged your shoulders before uncovering it.

Oscar held your hand and inspected it gently - the thin knot was both black and red, symbolising you and Oscar with the different colours but tied together seamlessly.

"I had to get it on my right one because I wear my watch on the left", you mumbled and a little twinge of nervousness could be spotted in your tone given that he hadn't said anything, "do you like it?", you bit the bullet.

"I love it, it's so beautiful, delicate and feminine too", he smiled, kissing around it.

"I also got a lightning bolt here", you twisted your wrist, "this one is just black and it's quite tiny, but it's about all the times I insisted and persisted - my stubbornness too - and how much I value that in people", you smiled.

"You're stubborn? Never would have guessed it", your boyfriend teased, earning your giggles and an eyeroll from you, "the line is so beautiful, she did an amazing job!", he complimented.

"I also got my first neck tattoo", you mumbled, "well, it's the first time I do it there, not sure if that means I'll do another because it hurt a bit more than I expected", you blushed, letting Oscar pull your hair back so he could see it.

The red inked word was aligned with your ear, "I chose the word rare because it's a devotion to myself, my self-love - accepting that I'm not perfect and that that is okay - I love myself the way I am and it's also a lot thanks to you", you tried to keep the tears pooling on your eyes from falling, "you loved me for me, all of me, no matter how many times people liked to point out any of my tattoos or how I don't fit the 'wag role', and I want a reminder of it everyday", you smiled.

Oscar cupped your jaw gently, careful of the sore area as he kissed your lips in a hard, long, searing kiss, joining your foreheads afterwards, "I love you, Y/N, all of you", he whispered.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[whateverisbeautiful]

Hi! I just wanted to say that I discovered your top 30 Richonne list a few days ago and I've been down the meta rabbit hole you've so wonderfully crafted this entire week so far. I've cried and smiled so much reading them. Each post is just so beautiful.

I was reading one of your Reveling in Richonne posts this morning for episode 10 x 04 where Michonne talked with Ezekiel about how much she still misses Rick and loves him so much and that she misses his walk and now I can't get over it. Now I'm thinking about all those times when she looked at Rick walking towards or away from her pre- and post-canon where she would be thinking the man I'm crushing on, then eventually the man I love is so sexy. Is there any chance you can do a post speculating those moments where they are both checking each out specifically regarding Michonne checking out Rick's walk?

Also I cant wait for you to do a Reveling in Richonne continuation based on TOWL 👀? So excited! Lastly I just need you to know that my Richonne withdrawals have been pretty bad now that TOWL has concluded. So discovering your blog and your metas have been giving me my whole entire life and I just want to say thank you and that I really appreciate all the thought and beauty you put into your posts. You're amazing!!!! 👏🏽 👏🏽 🤩 💖

Hi @rct85 ! I'm so encouraged by your message, thank you so much. 🥰 I love that this richonne reveling rabbit hole could help with the richonne withdrawal. I’m feeling it too and really miss seeing them on screen each week. 🥲 Thank goodness we were spoiled with years of richonne content that I’ve just been playing on a loop in my head. The second I'm finally able, I'm looking forward to going all out and writing about every golden moment from TOWL. The towl thoughts and observations are abundant lol.

And I really like that thought of highlighting the times that Michonne was looking at Rick and thinking this man I'm crushing on and later in love with is so sexy. I can definitely speculate on those moments and I've placed my extra self’s speculation right below. 😊⬇

I focused on Michonne specifically for this one because if I were to make a list of times Rick was looking at Michonne and thinking this woman I'm crushing on/in love with is so sexy it would be wildly long because it's every single moment he and Michonne are on screen together. Like truly from TWD 3.06 at the fence to the TOWL 1.06 finale Rick looks like he's thinking that. 😋 While Michonne can be a little more subtle than Slick Rick, she's still head over heels for her husband and I think I pinpointed some clear moments where she was noting how fine her man is and appreciating that walk. 😏 Thanks again for reading my posts and for this kind message! 💗

Moments Michonne Was Checking Out Her Man’s Walk/Thinking Rick Is Fine 😋

Exhibit A:

It started real early if you ask me. 😌 At this point our Michonne had been abandoned by her only friend, unsuccessfully gaslit by the governor, chased down and shot by Merle, and passed out killing walkers at the prison fence. She’d been put through a whole lot in mind and body…but her eyes clearly still work just fine as she seems to be taking in this handsome stranger in front of her.

And sis is an observant person so I wouldn’t at all be surprised if she had a conscious thought that this man from the prison is attractive, even here in their first exchange. Thinking about how she described Maggie and the Governor based on appearances in this ep, I’d bet that had Michonne had to describe Rick this early, some type of good-looking adjective would‘ve been used.

(*Also the footnote for all of these bits of evidence is that Rick is absolutely captivated by her in each of these moments too 💯)

Exhibit B:

Clear is where that Richonne attraction was loud and on display from both of them. We don’t see Rick walk away in this scene at the end of the ep but uh Michonne does. 😊 And of course she likes what she sees with that lingering look and smile she gives. And all that car key shuffling - it’s giving Rick is pretty eager but maybe she is too 🤭

Exhibit C & D:

I put these two moments side by side because I love how similar they are in the way Rick walks up to her and the way Michonne smiles at him. To think one scene is during their early s4 crush era and the other is during their s7 honeymoon ep, just goes to show these two have been smitten a long long time and always will be. In both moments I know Michonne loves seeing his walk just like Rick loves seeing her smile.

Exhibit E:

As she observes Rick here, I think Michonne has a lot of thoughts going through her head, which naturally are deeper than just checking him out. On a larger level, she’s realizing that Rick has unique qualities that she loves and respects and recognizes in her own self. She saw firsthand the way Rick walks the walk when it comes to protecting his family and she’s fallen in love with him. But I think an appreciation for his literal walk can be included in those thoughts during this scene as she starts to slowly become more cognizant that she sees Rick as a lot more than just a friend.

Exhibit F (Pt. 1 & Pt. 2):

I may have forgot if this was a list of Michonne’s thoughts or mine with exhibit f lol. But I’m just gonna venture to say that she and I shared the same appreciation for Rick’s walk in that barn. It’s Season 5 Rick - of course Michonne was feeling a type of way about him. And she might not have agreed with him punching Aaron but I know she wasn’t mad at that walk.

Exhibit G:

Seeing Rick’s clean-shaven face for the first time was Michonne’s most blatant display of attraction towards him pre-canon and she was definitely noting how fine he is. And from my posts on the scene, it’s no secret how much I love this moment and it’s no secret how much these two were into each other. I also just added a later s5 moment of Rick seeing Michonne in the constable windbreaker for the first time because it gives a similar energy. It’s cute how Rick and Michonne both have such obvious attraction and intrigued reactions to seeing each other in ways they haven’t seen each other before.

(That’s also why I thought it was so funny and doomed that their plan was to pretend like they don’t know each other at the CRM because Richonne hasn’t been able to mask their blazing attraction to each other since season 3)

Exhibit H:

This is such a sweet moment and I always adore seeing the slightly bashful way Michonne can’t help but stare at her man and smile after their first night together. And the way Rick can sense her looking at him and then smiles and reaches for her. It gives me life. This had to make this list because I’m pretty sure “the man I love is so sexy” is one of the direct quotes from Michonne’s mind in this scene.

Exhibit I:

Even when injured Rick’s walk is hot and Michonne knows it. 😋 The scene above and a couple more in this episode were clear signs of Michonne admiring her man inside and out. They were both so cute and couply and in love in this ep and I’ll never get over it.

In The Ones Who Live…

Each of these towl moments deserves dissertations so I’ll wait to elaborate because dissertations are coming later on. But I still had to include them on this list because they’re prime examples of Michonne loving Rick’s walk and/or loving how sexy her husband is - with the last one being the pinnacle 😍

Exhibit J:

Exhibit K:

Exhibit L:

Exhibit M:

Exhibit NOPQRSTUVWXY&Z:

[skelletonscloset]

simon x sick!reader

wc— 973

cw— sick fic!! reader is gender neutral. emetophobia warning!! > mention of throwing up. simon being a good boyfriend.

a/n— this is my first official addition to this page!! i’m still getting used to this whole “writing and posting” thing, so i’d love feedback and constructive criticism :3 enjoy!!

your body felt hot. the weight of your sheets on top of you was all you could feel aside from the way your eyes felt glued shut and how your clothes stuck uncomfortably to your back.

the past few days you knew you were starting to catch something, a few sneezes there and a small headache there — but you’d never guess you’d start to feel this bad.

now, it’s not like you were running to the bathroom and hurling the remains of your dinner from the past night into the toilet bowl, no. however, you did feel like the inside of your throat was being clawed at by a very angry cat and your mouth was dry from not being able to breathe clearly from your nose.

forcing your eyes open, you groan as you stir from your warm and slightly damp spot of the bed, your eyes adjusting to your dark room. you lick your lips, attempting to bring back some moisture, but they dried up again almost immediately.

“ugh… si?” you groan, looking to his side of the bed where he was. well, where he would be. you blinked your eyes, lifting your hand and placing it in his spot and feeling the warmth of his body that was left behind. huh.

you peered at the alarm clock on your nightstand. 2:41 am.

“si?” you weakly called out again, your nasally voice ringing throughout your shared bedroom. a few moments pass before you hear the heavy padding of feet approaching, a muscular forearm gently nudging the door open.

simon’s dark silhouette walked in, a mug of something in hand and a thermometer in the other. he shuffled closer, setting the mug down on the nightstand and turning on the small lamp next to the edge.

the lamp illuminated his dark eyes, which shifted from the thermometer’s buttons to you after turning it on. his short, blond locks were tousled from sleep, scratching the scruff on his jaw.

“woke up a couple minutes ago. felt ya’ start to get hot,” he grunted, holding the thermometer up to your forehead as he took your temperature. after the beep, he squinted, reading back your temperature in his gruff voice.

“99.8” he stated, setting the thermometer down and sitting on the edge of the bed, rugged body slightly facing you as one leg folded onto the sheets and the other hung off the bed.

“nothing too bad, yet.”

coaxing you to sit up, he carefully brings the cup of tea towards you, pausing when your hands don’t come up to take it. he looks up at you, watching you eye the steaming cup suspiciously. he sighs

“yes, it has enough honey.” he clarifies, watching your expression relax. he held his hand beneath yours as you took hold of the mug, softly blowing on it before you took a sip.

you hummed in satisfaction, affirming his words. “thank you, si,” you murmured, “but aren’t you going to get sick too?”

“don’t worry about that, lovie. focus on you gettin’ better,” his voice rumbled. you took a few more sips of the tea, soothing your throat little by little, before deciding you were too sweaty to finish it.

you handed the mug to him before coughing into your elbow, trying to clear out the feeling of glass in your throat but failing.

“i’m so sweaty…” you groan, watching as simon automatically puts the mug down and gets up, moving to the closet as he looks for something lighter for you to wear.

he’s back within a few seconds, one of his large t-shirts in hand and a pair of sleep shorts just in case.

“up,” he nudges your arms, helping you take off your long sleeve shirt which was slightly cold with your sweat. tossing it to the side, he rolled up the other shirt, gingerly slipping the sleeves down your arms as his shirt draped across your form.

“shorts?” he asked, noting how you already weren’t wearing pants, opting to sleep in your underwear instead. when you shook your head, he walked to the closet once more, putting the shorts away and your shirt in the hamper.

“thank you, si,” you whispered tiredly.

“none of that. need anything else? some water?”

“yes, please”

he walked out of the room.

you wondered how you ended up with such a caring man as your boyfriend. he’s practically a mind reader at this point. you looked down, eyeing the shirt he picked out for you. it was an old shirt of his, one he used to wear frequently before he became a part of your life.

the shirt was a dark gray, small holes between the seams of the sleeves. it was your favorite one, hence how worn out it was. you took the soft fabric in your hands, bringing it up to smell the familiar scent.

simon walks back into the room with a fresh glass of water, noticing you. he gently tuts to himself, setting the glass next to the mug he had forgotten to take to the kitchen with him.

he plopped back into your shared bed, your body falling towards him as the bed shifted from his weight. settling the sheets over his lower half, he handed you the glass of water, waiting patiently for you to be finished. when you were, he set the glass back down, the two of you getting comfortable once more.

he subconsciously brought you towards him as you lied back down, his strong arm pulling you into his broad, clothed chest. you sighed again, breathing him in as you tried to forget about the oncoming congestion you felt. your hand settled on his waist, your legs entangled with his.

“i love you, simon.” you exhaled, closing your eyes once more.

“love you too, sweetheart,” he grumbled into your hair.

maybe getting sick wasn’t gonna be so bad after all.

~🧸

[nena-96]

Romione and/or Hinny blog recs?(I have been desperately trying to claw my way back into the golden trio era of the fandom)

Hey, anon!

Sorry for the late reply, I’ve been working 14hr shifts and my sleep schedule is all kinds of messed up.

Anyways, I’d love to share some of my recs with you. Trust me, I know how it feels, and I hope you have a fun time checking out these blogs (I’ll also post some fics recs, separate post, because it’ll be a wee bit long 😅),

Romione Blog Recs:

@adenei @acnelli @azaleablueme @be11atrixthestrange @cheesyficwriter @katenoteight @honouraryweasley12 @remedialpotions @mertronus @bluegreenandpurple @redandbrown @my-patronus-is-a-champagne-glass @hillnerd @hillnerd-art @toorumlk @gurinpotte @giuls233 @abradystrix @edie-k @taurusmoonchild

*Rennervator [on ao3]

*RonsGirlFriday [on ao3] or @constitutionalweasleymonarchy

*insufferableknowitall [on ao3]

*reallybeth [on ao3] or @reallybeth9

*sm_jl [on ao3] or @voldemorts-tap-shoes

(Just note some are not as ‘active’ as before but they all have amazing fics/art/hc that they’ve shared.)

Hinny Blog Recs (I’m fairly new to reading Hinny and I’m hoping to write some more….so the rec list is a bit short, maybe they have some recs?)

@corneliaavenue-ao3 @ginnyw-potter @takearisk-xo @sweeethinny @starlingflight

I hope the rec lists does not overwhelm you, anon, but i do hope you check out their works because they are truly talented.

I know I’ve read many of their works (and possibly left many reviews…in which I ramble….oh gosh I do that a lot 🤦‍♀️ on their works) and seen lots of their fanart.

That being said I hope this helps you get back into Romione, Hinny (Golden trio era)

I’m happy you sent this anon and I wish you the best of luck! Also, remember to like, reblog and comment on their works, it’s a way to show your appreciation for all their hard work and dedication since we all know life can get hectic and writing fanfic isn’t always easy. 💕

[ps…. I’ll share a few fic recs that I enjoy and always find myself going back to. But on a different post since this one is a bit long, haha. ]

[butterflylaravaesyrup]

yandere (chiropractor) x !fem reader

vernorexia(n.) – a romantic mood inspired by warm weather and early springtime - /vern-oh-rex-eyuh/

it was a glum day today; dewy rain drops and mushy leaves scattered around your neighbourhood. and, to make it even worse, you had an appointment today, a chiropractic consultation with a doctor whom you did not know.

but it was okay, right? it was just a crack of the bones, to make your aching body feel better. 10 23 am

you arrive at the clinic, turning your windshield wipers off and parking your car. the clinic has a mahogany wood outside, and it was easy on the eyes. you realize you are being soaked in rain, and run inside the small building. a gust of lavender and vanilla enters your nostrils, its aromatic smell pleasing all your senses. you walk up to the receptionist. “hello, I’m here for an appointment with erm..” you don’t know his name. “doctor hart? I’ve got your file right here. ms. y/n l/n? he’s the only chiropractor here today, no one works on sundays.” the receptionist smiles, she was a pregnant, red head woman with a rather thin physique, her name plate read ‘kacie barlowe, receptionist’.

“that.. would be me. thank you.” you say, and take a seat in a waiting chair. “he will be with you briefly.” she mutters, clicking away on her keyboard, eyes glued on her computer screen.

the clinic had a birch wood finish, and plenty of plants in the waiting area, which was pleasant. you twiddle with your thumbs, glancing at the receptionist who took a sip of her drink occasionally.

“y/n l/n?” the chiropractor says in a deep, yet calm voice, his body half in the doorway and half in the corridor. you look down, and grab your things as you follow dr. hart into the office. “right this way,” he says. you make it there in a quick 30 seconds, and he closes the door right behind you.

“well hello there,” he says, grabbing a clipboard and gathering his tools. “If you may not already know, I’m Doctor Hart. I’ll be fixing you up today! So, before we get started I’m going to need a little information. Any sore spots? Previous surgeries?” He asks, looking up at you. His voice is soothing, like honey to your ears. And boy, is he cute. His green eyes stares into your e/c ones, his gaze lingering for a little too long. “um, my back has really been bothering me, so has my neck. as for surgeries, none.” You reply. You answer any other questions that he asks you, and he gets you to lay on the bed.

“Alright then, let’s get started, shall we?” He grabs an adjuster, and places it on your shoulder. It makes a slight ‘crack’ sound, and you feel like your shoulder has been put back in a place you didn’t know existed. You grunt softly, but stay still nonetheless. he does this again with your back, and your neck before he uses his hands to relax your muscles. “Let’s get your trigger points active,” he says, and he starts moving his hands all over your back, neck and even your legs. it feels like a new experience, a piece of heaven.

After a half an hour, the treatment is done. He places some sort of a lotion and spreads it out on your neck. It smells, again, like lavender. What is up with this place and lavender? you think.

“and..you’re done.” Dr hart says, grinning softly. he helps you off of the bed. “my body feels like jelly..” you mutter under your breath, struggling to keep your balance. “that’s alright, it’s normal. if you’d like.. you could just stay here for a bit. I need to grab the print out of your body analysis, anyways.” he says, before leaving the room. “oh- okay?” You say, sitting in a chair next to his desk. he was an organized individual, despite all of the neon yellow post-it notes that practically covered his bulletin board. at his desk, is a picture frame of him that looks like he’s at his graduation, holding his doctorate. In another frame, there is a woman he has his arm wrapped around. She’s blonde, like him, with a pink polo and brown eyes. she was outstandingly pretty. well, to be fair, he was a fairly good looking guy himself, so no surprise there. perhaps it’s his wife?

just then, dr hart walks in with the report. He cocks a blonde eyebrow, but hands it to you anyways in a disturbed manner. did he catch you checking out his pictures? you grab your bag. “uh, thank you, dr hart. have a great rest of your day—“ you say. “Sorry, I think you’ve forgotten something.” He says. It’s a hat, but it’s not yours. He grabs your wrist and injects a vein with a syringe filled with a yellow hued liquid inside. You start to feel drowsy. “doctor..?” You mumble, before blacking out completely. All you can hear now is dr hart’s shuffling as he stares into your soul, your heart beating in your chest.

will you continue? find the next part in my account ;)

[katerina-marie]

The Hot Mic Incident (Feel Like Falling in Love)

Sukuna x Reader

A sequel to this and part 2 of a larger (unnamed) series. I do recommend reading part 1 first to be able to understand certain references in this one.

If someone asked you who was most likely to accidentally spill the beans about your new (and still secret) relationship with Sukuna, your answer would have to be your white-haired co-star. But when an unintentional hot mic reveals to the world what wasn't ready to be shared, let's just say it wasn't Gojo Satoru at fault for once.

Notes: A continuation of my Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au inspired by music (though only loosely, so don't look too closely at lyrical meaning). In this case, it's Feel Like Falling in Love by MeloMance. I'm writing this series as inspiration strikes, so these fics may not always be posted according to the series' linear timeline. I will make sure to note when each chapter takes place in relation to the others (this one takes place a couple months after part 2). I will also get around to making a master list of them in chronological reading order as more comes. I hope you enjoy:)

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, other favorites who have small supporting rolls, all fluff, crack, and humor, innuendos, illusions to sexting, but no actual sexting occurs (sorry), so please read accordingly, out of character and fluffy Sukuna. Please let me know if I miss something!

WC: 4.3k

——————————————————————————————————————————

“Isn’t it a little early in the morning to be sending naughty pictures to your boyfriend? It’s like 7:00 am.” 

You jumped half a foot in the air and clambered to juggle your phone in your hands before it tumbled out and slid four feet across the backstage floor of the talk show studio. 

“You need to be wearing a bell, Satoru,” you hissed over your shoulder at the menace that had appeared behind you so suddenly, “and it was not an inappropriate photo. I was completely dressed.” 

You teetered over in your heels to grab your phone off the floor and prayed that it wasn’t cracked down the middle, lest you make Satoru cough up punitive damages to make up for it. 

“In my experience, being fully clothed is not a prohibiting factor.”

Satoru snickered at the look of disgust on your face and gave you a small shrug, “Who knows, maybe Sukuna’s into th—,”

You threw yourself forward to try and cover his mouth with your hands, but even in heels you still lacked the necessary height to make contact. You settled for pinning him in place with a glare.

“Will you keep quiet please? I swear, if you and your fat mouth reveal this to anyone, I’m going to have Toji leak that photo of you from one of our nights working on that period piece last year!”

You watched with glee as Satoru’s eyes widened in abject horror, and he reached out to grip the tops of your arms and drag you close to his face. A quick peek from your peripheral confirmed that the staff lingering around the studio probably hadn’t been close enough to hear, but they were certainly watching with poorly disguised interest. 

Were you and Satoru contracted into a false relationship in order to help promote the upcoming movie the two of you were co-starring in? No, that only happened in fiction. Was it firmly implied by the producer that some offscreen tension and chemistry during the course of the film would promise to be advantageous to you both? Yes, and you presumed that in the pursuit of a paycheck some simple flirting couldn’t hurt anyone…though that was a year or so ago, and you were now closer to sending Satoru to an early grave than jumping in bed with him like fans and media were hoping for. 

“Suguru swore he made you delete any evidence of that!” 

You stuck your tongue out at him and pulled back against the hold he had on your arms, but he didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest. 

“He did, but didn’t bother to check with Toji. Looks like that weird phobia you two have of him is coming to bite you in the ass now.” 

Satoru released you with a shiver and took a large step back, his eyes roaming the expanse of the studio as if he expected your bodyguard to be summoned out of thin air at the sheer mention of his name. You didn’t blame him, however, because Toji had a habit of doing just that. 

“It’s not a weird phobia,” Satoru muttered, rubbing his throat absentmindedly and pouting down at you, “it’s PTSD.” 

You snorted. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was too!” Satoru cried, “He punched me in the throat and nearly sent Suguru through a wall!” 

“You and your idiot manager were trying to break into my house at 2:00am, drunk as skunks I might add! What did you think was going to happen? We barely knew each other then.” 

Satoru looked down at you aghast, stunned that you didn’t sympathize with his emotions. You considered it even more bewildering that he seriously thought that you would pick his side. You were about to let him know such when your phone dinged twice in quick succession, effectively capturing your attention. 

“Look,” you huffed at him, waving your phone in front of his face so he could catch a glimpse of the time (and hopefully ignore who’s name had popped up under it), “we only have like thirty more minutes before we have to get out there and I need some time to decompress, so I’m going back to the dressing room.” You started to turn away before throwing over your shoulder, “Don’t get into any trouble in the meantime.” 

Satoru rolled his eyes at you, and—in that intolerable way of his—couldn’t let you possibly have the last dig at him and jerked his head to the phone in your hand. 

“It’s not me I’m worried about. Have fun sext—,” 

“Goodbye, Satoru!” You made yourself scarce before he could say anything else, eager to find the privacy of your dressing room so you could fawn over your boyfriend in peace. 

By the time you made it into the safety of your dressing room a few minutes later, your heart was pounding—and not just from getting lost in all the maze-like hallways—and you tried to decide if hiding in the attached closet to talk with Sukuna on the phone or sitting on the couch in the open with a lovesick grin on your face would look less suspicious should someone walk in. Neither option promised much. 

Before you could make up your mind, your phone was ringing, so in order to be able to answer the call as quickly as you could, you dove for the couch and tried not to sound completely breathless when you answered with a quiet, “hi, good morning.” 

“Hey,” Sukuna replied back to you, voice equally soft but tinged with a dry hoarseness that usually followed him out of sleep. It made your toes wiggle uncontrollably against the floor. 

“Oh I’m sorry, did I wake you with the picture? That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to keep you up to date with my day,” you murmured to him. 

“Don’t worry, you didn’t. And besides, even if it did, it’s not a bad way to start my day.” His words made you melt back into the cushions and you kicked your feet in silent giddiness before tucking them underneath you. “You look stunning, by the way.” 

“Thank you,” you giggled, “though getting here to get ready while it was still dark outside was borderline torture. I’d say that it’s an unfair slight against women, but I’m pretty sure Satoru’s hair and skincare routine took just as long.” 

Your boyfriend let out a disgusted scoff at the mention of your costar’s name, “Please tell me that q-tip is behaving himself.” 

“Sukuna!” You chastised, though you couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up in your throat at the comparison, “You can’t call him that…even if it is somewhat accurate.” 

“It’s one hundred percent accurate,” he argued, “but I won’t call him that to his face…probably.” 

You shook your head in exasperated amusement, nibbling on the bottom skin of your lip before continuing on, “He’s behaving for the most part, aside from his two insinuations that our conversations this morning were of a sexual nature.” 

Sukuna was silent on the other end for a moment before replying back in a low voice with something that had you choking on your spit, “Would you like them to be?” 

He could be heard laughing as you nearly coughed your way into a premature death.

“I’m about to go in front of a live audience and on live tv!” You exclaimed.

“That’s not a ‘no’,” Sukuna pointed out hopefully.

“No.” 

He let out a dramatic sigh and you reached over to a nearby coffee table to unscrew a bottle of water and chug half of it down in the hopes it would help cool you off. 

“Speaking of,” he said, sounding just a tad hesitant, “I’ll uh, tune in to the show to watch if that’s okay with you.” 

You heart skipped a silly little beat at the idea that he wanted to watch some cheesy talk show just to get a glimpse of you. 

“I don’t mind,” you told him, “but it’s going to make me a little nervous knowing you’ll be watching as I stumble through this interview.” 

“Don’t be,” he chuckled, though something in his voice sounded just slightly wicked, “now you’ll get an idea of how I feel when I have to perform.” 

The innuendo had whatever sweet reassurance you had poised at the tip of your tongue fly out of your head, and you scrambled to come with a response that could be said back without implying anything further. The swinging open of your door, however, saved you from the task. 

“Hey, Princess,” Toji called as he leaned his torso around the door, “you need to be out there in five.” 

You startled from your spot on the couch, surprised to realize that your leg was bouncing from where it was propped up on your knee and your finger was twirling a piece of your hair.

Love made you stupid. 

“Toji,” you snapped, “have you ever heard of knocking?”

Your bodyguard rolled his eyes, “I did. Twice.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, especially because you could hear Sukuna cackling through the phone, confirming he heard what Toji just said. 

“Oh…I’ll be right there, okay?” You shooed him off with a flick of your fingers and Toji smirked at you as he began closing the door.

“Don’t be late or I’m sending Gojo in to fetch you.” 

The door closed shut before you could get a word in and you leaned back with a heavy sigh before returning your attention to your phone call, “I’ve to go. I’ll call you when the whole thing is over and I’m back home, yeah?” 

“Sounds good to me. I’ll be waiting for you. Good luck, okay?” 

You weren’t sure if it was all in your head, but you swore you heard a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“Thank you. Bye, Sukuna,” 

“Bye, Princess,” he sing-songed, and you couldn’t help but smile as you clicked off the call. 

——————————————————————————————————————————

Twenty minutes later found you and Satoru sitting next to each other on a platform stage surrounded by bright lights, a large live audience sprawled in front of you, and an all too perceptive interviewer who had started the interrogation just a couple minutes prior. You wiggled in your seat, uncomfortable from the various wires and clips that secured your mic to your back under your dress. 

“So,” she began, nailing you with a look that promised nothing good, “you and Satoru were supposed to film an advert on the beach early this last summer, but it ended up being you and the so-called ‘King of Curses.’ Tell me, how did that come about?” 

You hesitated a moment, thankful the question wasn’t anything too invasive, but you were still hoping to avoid talking about Sukuna altogether. Usually Nanami would heavily emphasize what could and couldn’t be spoken of before these appearances, but since he wasn’t here, you assumed it had been left to Geto. In that case, you knew he couldn’t be bothered since predicting whatever was going to come out of Satoru’s mouth during these things was an art not yet mastered.

 “Well,” you started, clasping your hands together so they didn’t shake, “it really just came about out of well-timed convenience and a favor to the director. We didn’t want to waste any of the crew’s time or have to worry about re-aligning schedules, so Sukuna saved the day by offering to help. Plus, ‘The Curses’ new song at the time got to debut in it, so it was a win-win for everyone! Except for maybe Satoru, of course.” 

In an effort to divert attention from your answer, you threw Satoru a faux-friendly smile and urged him with a widening of your eyes to explain his part. 

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, adjusting himself in the seat and setting a convincing pout on his face. “I just happened to get pulled into something personal last minute and was going to be late to the shoot. I’m appreciative that the “King of Curses” was able to step in and save the day.” 

You didn’t miss the obvious sarcasm dripping from Sukuna’s nickname when it came out of Satoru’s mouth, and you had to hide a giggle behind your hand at the thought of your boyfriend cursing at his TV at home. 

“But,” Satoru continued, jolting you into awareness when he turned to you and ran a long finger down the bare skin of your arm, “I’m super bummed I missed our chance to get wet together.” The smirk on his face was downright evil, and you just knew your face was a picture of stunned disbelief. The audience was tittering with amusement.

“You wear me out, Satoru,” you hissed at him, batting his hand away from where it still traced slowly over your skin. 

Satoru laughed and threw his head back against his chair before taking a quick look at the camera and then leaning in towards you until your noses nearly touched, “I’m flattered you’d admit that on live television.” 

Your jaw, and everyone else’s for that matter, fell to the floor and you could only gawk at him. Over the interviewer’s shoulder, you could see Toji backstage laughing his ass off as Geto stood at a respectable distance next to him shaking his head. 

We better get those damned bonuses from the producer.

“Well!” The interviewer laughed a bit nervously, breaking the tension in the room and turning to the main camera in front of you all, “That was surely something. We have to go to a commercial, but we’ll be back with these two in just a couple minutes!”

The outro music sounded over the speakers and you and Satoru were released from your chairs to scurry backstage. In between sending friendly waves to the audience and starting the walk backstage, you flipped the switch on your mic off. 

“I’m going to kill you, Satoru,” you spat under your breath as the two of you left stage.

The idiot had the gall to laugh, and in your frustration you took a couple large steps to get a head of him. And because the universe didn’t hate you enough, you felt the toe of your heel catch on a stray cable on the floor, pitching you off balance. In your flailing, you reached out to grasp at whatever object could possibly break your fall, and in doing so latched on to Satoru’s sleeve, jerking the poor bastard off his feet and onto you as you both tumbled to floor in a heap of tangled limbs. 

Your back hit the ground first, your mic digging painfully into your back with a suspicious crack of plastic followed by Satoru landing on your front, pushing all the air from your lungs with a painful “oomph.” 

You stared at the ceiling of the studio, wondering how quickly things would go if one of the giant studio lights fell from above and crushed you under it. You were never going to live this down, especially since it happened still in view of the cameras and the audience if the raucous laughter was anything to go by.

“You know, I never imagined I would actually get you under me,” Satoru mused, staring down at you for a second before lifting his giant self off and then pulling you up to follow. He held a hand against your lower back as the two of you made it to the cover of backstage. 

“Honestly,” you admitted, still a little dazed, “I never would have thought so either.”

Staff fluttered around you a minute later, offering water, smoothing your hair out, and ensuring neither of you were hurt…at least not physically. Your pride was a whole other matter. 

“Oh no,” you groaned, catching Satoru’s attention once everyone had cleared out around you, “he was watching. He just saw me eat it on live television.” 

Your co-star cocked a confused eyebrow at you, “You mean Sukuna was watching?”

“Oh please,” you muttered, “like you didn’t guess. And yes, Sukuna was watching, and now I’m not going to be able to look him in the eye this evening.” 

There was a general increased noise coming from the front of the studio, but you were too preoccupied with your own embarrassment to think much of it. 

“And why is that?” Satoru asked. 

You threw your hands up purely because you didn’t know what else to do with them, “I don’t really know exactly, but there is still something supremely humiliating about doing something embarrassing like that in front of my new boyfriend. He makes me nervous enough as is.” 

There was a sudden outbreak of hollers and clapping from out front, and you swung your head around to look and see if anyone had a clue as to what was going on. It took you a minute before you could see Toji running at you with a wild look on his face. 

“Toji, what the hell—?” You didn’t get to finish your question before he was spinning you around by the shoulders, yanking down the zipper of your dress, and ripping the mic from your back. You shrieked in disbelief as you whirled back around to figure out what in the world he had been thinking. 

“Toji!”

“Your mic has been on this whole time,” he growled, showing you the blinking green light on the cracked plastic box. You swore you had turned it off, but seeing as how it took the brunt of the impact when you fell on it earlier, you supposed it wasn’t unlikely that it had turned back on. 

With sudden cold rushing through your body and a sick ball of dread settling into your gut, you looked between Satoru’s dumbfounded expression and Toji’s face of pure exhaustion and immediately decided that if the ground wasn’t going to swallow you up whole, you were going home.

“Get me out of here!”

——————————————————————————————————————————

After finally making it to some undisclosed back alley across from the talk show studio, you were assisted out from your crouch in a trash bin by studio security and ushered to a small nearby out-cove to wait for your bodyguard. 

And you just wanted to be famous soooo bad. Glamorous life, my ass.

As luck would have it, you were made aware today of just how famous you, and especially Sukuna, were. For all the grief you gave Satoru about not accidentally spilling the beans about your newly minted—and still secret—relationship with Sukuna, you were the one that had the unintended pleasure of doing the grand reveal. So now the world was free to stir whatever frenzy they saw fit, from the intensely devoted fangirls of Sukuna’s band, to the entire acting community, and the worst of all…your mother. You suspected you were a couple minutes away from an angry phone call demanding an explanation as to why she had to find out from the internet that you were dating a boy with pink hair and face tattoos and how much longer it would be until she had grandchildren. 

All of this chaos and Nanami just happened to be in a whole other country. 

You suddenly regretted sending him on that vacation.

A sharp squeal of tires caught your attention and you looked up to see a shiny sports car peal around the corner and come to a rumbling stop a couple feet in front of you. Before you could even begin to guess who it could be, the head of your bodyguard appeared as the tinted black window of the passenger side door rolled down.

“Get in the car,” Toji hissed, eyes darting to and fro. 

You wasted no time and nearly dove through the open window in your haste to escape broad daylight. You had just finished buckling your seatbelt in the back when Toji mashed the gas pedal and the car leapt forward.

“Christ, Toji!” You gasped, clasping the headrest of the seat you were just flung into, “Whose car is this? It’s certainly not yours.”

He snorted. “Yeah, cause you don’t pay me enough.”

“Rude,” you muttered back to him, “and not true.” 

You tried to squint out the front windshield to determine where you might be, but brick buildings towered on either side of you still, and you assumed Toji was taking some alternative route home. “Seriously though, whose car is this? It’s not one of mine.” 

“Does it matter?”

You rolled your eyes at his bored tone, “Yes, it does. Toji, I’m not your wife, but—”

“Thank God.” He sounded entirely too relieved about that.

“Still rude!” You yelped, but brushed aside the sting of offense to figure out whose leather seats your dress was currently dropping glitter all over. “I’m not your wife, so I don’t particularly care to know what unscrupulous activities you get up to when I’m not keeping you busy—,”

“None,” he deadpanned, shooting you a glare through the rear view mirror.

“—which I’m pretty sure I had you sign a non-compete, but that’s besides the point. I really need you to tell me where you got this car. In case you aren’t aware, my name is going to be plastered on every social media post, blog page, and headline in the next 24 hours and I’d rather that not include my mugshot with “accomplice to grand theft auto” under it. So tell me who this car belongs to right now or I’m jumping out.”

Toji had the audacity to chuckle at you before reaching back to pat your knee.

“Relax a bit. You know I wouldn’t ever put you in harm’s way on purpose. This is Gojo’s car. Ours was being swarmed by the media out front after your little slip up, so I threatened Geto for the idiot’s keys cause I knew it was out back and the quickest way I could get to our little rendezvous point.” 

“Oh,” was all you managed to get out. Letting your racing mind settle down a bit, you snuggled deeper into the plush leather seats and kicked your feet up onto the center console. You got two seconds of peace before Toji opened his mouth again.

“I’m going to have to call Nanami.” 

“No!” You gasped, springing upright again and feeling a warm sting creep to your eyes as your throat began to tense up. “He’s on vacation! I promised we wouldn’t bother him unless one of us was dying. I’d never forgive myself if he had to come home to clean up my sloppy love life!” 

Toji shook his head and shot you a sad smile over his shoulder as he reached for his phone sitting in the front cup holder.

“We may not really have an option, Sweetheart. Not only is Uraume going to be a huge pain to deal with since this could affect Sukuna’s band, but you’ve also got contracts and appearances promised that may get shaken by the fact it’s been revealed to the world that you've been secretly dating the music industry’s favorite ‘hate to love’ rockstar. We can’t fix this without Nanami.” 

The panic that had been brewing in your stomach this whole time was starting to make your head spin up, so you blamed it on that when you lurched out of your seat and nearly over Toji’s shoulder to snatch the phone out of his hand before he could hit ‘dial’ on Nanami’s contact. 

Your bodyguard swore when you knocked him in the face with your elbow in your clamber and his hand gave a vicious jerk of the wheel that had horns blaring from either side of your car as Toji swerved to correct it. You were thrown back into the seat you had just previously been in and you waited with heaving breaths as the car jolted sideways once more before continuing on straight. The fact you barely missed crashing was a testament to Toji’s reflexes.

“Don’t you ever do stupid shit like that again, you hear me?!” You’d never heard Toji raise his voice at you and it did nothing to help quell the tears about to start pouring from your eyes, “I know you’re stressed and something big has just happened to you, I get it, but that’s no excuse to do something dumb! You just about gave me a heart attack,” he finished, his voice still at a higher volume than normal, but it was softened by the edge of panicked concern and the worried glances he was giving you. 

That was enough to push you over the edge.

“I-I’m sorry, Toji,” you sobbed, upset at yourself for messing up again, “I wasn’t thinking, and I don’t want Nanami to feel like he has to babysit me for the rest of his life, or you to think I’m an airhead or something. I also really like Sukuna and I don’t want him to hate me because of what I did!” 

You let your head fall into your hands and hiccuped through another shuddering cry as you struggled to get ahold of the overwhelming-ness of it all. You felt Toji’s hand on your knee again. 

“Hey, hey, take deep breaths for me. No one’s thinking that, I promise you. And I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. It was wrong. It’s no excuse, but that scared the crap out of me and I thought we for sure were getting into an accident,” he admitted. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

You nodded through your tears, unable to respond to him in any way that was legible. 

“Look, we’re almost home. Try and deep breathe for me. Once we get there I’ll help you get comfortable and we’ll figure this out together, okay?” 

As was frequent with Toji, you valued his ability to keep you calm when you got into the worst of yourself and you were grateful for his steady confidence. You reached out and clasped the hand he still had stretched back on your knee to give it a squeeze, hoping it could convey all the thanks you had for him. The two of you kept driving in comfortable silence until you felt the car slow and saw a flash of a familiar gate out the front windshield.

“Hey,” Toji started, his voice suspiciously light, “you think Gojo would realize if we never returned his car?” 

——————————————————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! I've got ideas for parts 3 and 4 already, so I'm hoping to work on those in the next coming days.

I'll also be posting this series on AO3 under Katerina_Mar if you would prefer to read there:)

[ellaphnt]

Saw ur Toshiro post, and I absolutely agree that Toshiro's outburst will be a stepping stone for both um an Laios to grow and that the buildup was because Shuro didn't want to ruin situation he was still trying to figure out. But the funniest thing is, afaik, Laios and Falin are *also Foreigners* for quite far away. Their country is simply Scandinavian/northern Europe themed. I don't think we see any long-lived races in their flash backs (baring the dead man buying a ring of elves?). And both Falin and Laois definitly are the equivalent of nobility/Local chiefs kids. But instead of being send out with all their assistants and guards, Laios ran away and suffered in the army and then on his own in a caravan , and Falin was send to a Magial School full of other races and people. They both had time to 'adjust' to the wider world (and still carry a bit of home-grown uh...prejudice (mountain people)). So when they met Shuro both of them were well used to meeting people not from their Country. Toshiro not being either from the tiny Island or the nearby lands simply didn't mesh with how they had adapted to behave. Plus, obviously, Laios textual Autism. But I feel like Laios could totally have figured it out if he had met people from Shuros island before who would have told him, he does after all know how to behave around Dwarves and such, who also have quite diffrent culturual norms. Sorry for the ramble xD Good Toshiro post!

Hi hi! I’m really glad you’re adding onto my silly brain thoughts hehe - I’m super happy to hear yours, especially since they make me think more! Warning this is going to be long, talking about dungeon meshi is just a lot of fun.

When I said foreigner, I should have clarified that that I meant he’s a stranger to the CULTURE. A good chunk of the people in the island are not native to it! But culturally, they have the social background to fit in. They didn’t all come from the same place, yes, but they grew up in European-esque cultures and interacted to some extent with other races. Even Kabru and Rin are not foreign to this type of culture because they grew up with Western/European socialization.

Gonna elaborate bc I think it’s fascinating: From what we know about the Eastern islands, the worldview is very very different. In the Adventurer’s Bible where Kabru talks to Hien, they talk about how the East defines “humans” as “tallmen”, and oni/ogres were the only “other”. In the post-canon snippet where Toshiro talks to Falin, he even refers to Eastern thinking as “backward” due to the lack of long-lived races. Because of his delayed exposure to other races, and because the worldview is far more different than the one the Toudens experienced, that’s where I make the statement that he had more to adjust to.

I’ll also note, the fact that the Toudens are subjectively more adjusted to seeing and accommodating other races makes Laios’ statement that Toshiro “had an odd appearance” an even more bizarre thing to say. And although we can assume Toshiro also has his biases, we don’t see them highlighted like other characters have had (to my knowledge). So it makes it seem like he was more thoughtful/careful towards other races from the get-go, despite his lack of knowledge. His main issues were always with other tallmen, just like Laios.

It’s good to point out that the Toudens are outcasts in their own right. Both of them went through a really hard time, and it changed them. Laios’ cycle of failures and giving up and being bullied are especially important to characterizing his relationship with his sister and his disinterest in humanity and lack of close friends. Falin at least had Marcille. Both Laios and Toshiro have reasons they’re inexperienced in friendship, but one of them stated it in the story and the other didn’t. There’s more misconception about Toshiro’s character than Laios’. So my post was to talk about that one a bit.

ALSO OOO I COMPLETELY FORGOT but I WAS going to mention how both the Toudens and Toshiro came from families of influence! Thank you for bringing it up! Laios and Toshiro diverge from that upbringing, while making Toshiro and Falin a little more similar. This goes into another whole thing where Laios and Toshiro parallel (and foils?) each other but that’s too long of a discussion. Just as long is how this divergence distinguishes the Touden siblings (too many people have said their only difference is gender..)

Lastly, yes, Laios does need more exposure to Eastern people and Eastern culture to get a grasp on it. He really wants to learn! It’s just that Shuro isn’t his encyclopedia and until he gets that chance, he will make ignorant takes. I can think of two more that will occur in the main narrative alone. (but like Toshiro said, Laios has no malicious intent, that’s what makes it all the more complicated)

While there’s good conversation to be had about the fight from a ND vs NT POV, I’ve seen SO much discussion about Toshiro possibly being read as autistic too, and neurodivergent individuals who can relate to his experience. Often it comes as an intersection between both being autistic and being a poc. I think it brings even more nuance to the narrative. Plus I’m just glad there’s people who can relate to him. He’s meant to be relatable! His problem with Laios is just as much a character flaw as it is human.

Hope this post was a thoughtful response to yours, I tried to tackle everything you mentioned! Thank you sm for the ask :D

Edit: for the sake of context, here’s the og post that’s being referred to!

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

https://www.gbnews.com/royal/kate-middleton-prince-louis-birthday-picture-royal-family-news

“The couple eventually posted a new photograph in the afternoon, despite having traditionally provided it to the press under an embargo the day before.”

I’m new to the whole process of how the birthday pictures are shared, but from the online articles (especially the above one), it seems to me that the Wales’ circumvented providing it directly to the press this time and only published the picture themselves on social media. If so, good for them!

Hopefully, the media has FAFO’d. And GB News may be salty, but they have no one to blame but themselves.

So how the birthday photos work is that usually the afternoon before a birthday (or a milestone anniversary or a new baby photo), William and Kate will send the picture out to the newspapers/photo agencies/media organizations with an embargo not to release before a certain time. This "certain time" has traditionally been around 10pm London time, which is usually when the UK morning newspapers "go to bed" - i.e., the layout/content is finalized and sent to the printers and the electronic copies are published to the internet/posted on social media.

Because of the time difference (10pm London is 5pm East Coast and 2pm West Coast), American social media tends to make the new pictures go viral on our side of the internet while the rest of the world is asleep. This is why you may have seen some American blogs cheering on Monday afternoon - the UK papers went to print without new photos of Louis for his birthday on the Tuesday front pages.

So then on the day of the actual birthday/anniversary, Kensington Palace will post their "Happy birthday to Kiddo" message with their original photo first thing in the morning to coincide with the locals waking up/reading their morning news. A few hours later, usually around their lunchtime/early afternoon, Kensington Palace does a "thank you for the happy messages" post with a second photo.

What happened this week with Louis's birthday is that Kensingon Palace did not provide the newspapers, photo agencies, media orgs with a new photo of Louis for his birthday. According to Rebecca English, this is because William and Kate didn't want to share photos because either a) it felt hypocritical after spending January through March begging for privacy or b) how the press treated them over the Mother's Day photo and Kate's video message.

But something happened, William and Kate changed their minds about not sharing the photo and decided to post one anyway. They posted the new photo straight to their own social media first, before then sending it out to the news and media organizations.

Why they changed their minds, we don't know. Maybe their office got too many phone calls about it. Maybe their staff reported on all the social media tributes. Maybe there was a ton of mail/birthday cards delivered for Louis. We know that they probably intended to share new photos. You don't have a photoshoot with young kids for the heck of it. My theory is they did the photos, someone got cold feet about sharing photos after what happened last month, and they were on the fence about it until they saw the genuine love, support, and appreciation for Louis (and the family) from the general public.

I'd like to see this being the new MO going forward - pictures released exclusively to their social media first, then circulated to the media (or forcing the media to use the social media copy exclusively). We won't really know till Charlotte's birthday next week if this was a one-off or truly a change in how they handle the media.

On that note...I do kinda feel like we might be getting an anniversary picture this year. With Kate's health issues, they may feel like an anniversary picture would comfort people who are worried about her, and it may be how they thank the public for their support and well wishes. Of course, the caveat being that Kate has felt well enough to be photographed/appear on camera.

[strwbrrychnnie]

< about time >

pairing:: bang chan x older male reader genre:: smut // fluff - - minors dni!! word count:: 2.9k summary:: you’re an overworked college student and your best friend, bang chan, is a famous kpop idol. he’s constantly busy and you haven’t seen him in months. he surprises you with a visit late one night, and scenes in the movie you watch sparks a flame you didn’t know existed between you two. warnings:: smut !!! unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), slight d / s dynamic, dirty talk, praise, slight pet play if you squint, swearing, petnames, age dynamic & honorifics, crying notes:: my first work on here :fingers-crossed: not entirely proofread either srry ;; i’ve actually never seen ‘about time,’ but i know vaguely what happens in it- bare with me if i get anything wrong ,,</3 i don’t know how to end stories i’m so sorry

it’s been a long day. you’ve been working on your homework all day- reading textbooks and taking notes, replying to insufferable classmates on discussion posts, studying for an upcoming test. all you want is someone to hold you, and nobody comes to mind.

that is, except for your best friend, chan.

he’s always there when you need him, but he's beyond busy. he’ll pick up every call within a ring or two, but never has time to talk more than five minutes. but he never forgets to text you good night, sleep well, to dream happy thoughts.

you groan, leaning back in your chair. would he come over if you asked? does he even have the time? is he even still in korea? you spiral and spiral until you eventually pick up your phone, deciding to find out for yourself.

he picks up before the first ring, a coarse voice filling your ear. “y/n? you okay? it’s 2am, sweetheart.” your heart aches at the petname.

“i- sorry. i’ve been up working on homework, i didn't mean to wake you up.” you whisper into the phone. chan laughs gently.

“i’ve been up. don't worry about me, it's just good to hear your voice.” a silence falls over you, registering his compliment. “you there?”

“yeah- yeah, sorry. just…” you bite your tongue. “i miss you, chan.” he sighs on the other end of the phone.

“i miss you too. look, how about… i wrap things up here, and come over?” your eyes widen.

“wait, really? can you even do that?” chan laughs again.

“of course i can, y/n. i don't have a schedule tomorrow, so i can do whatever i want tonight. would you like that?” chan teases.

“yes, please. i need you.” you bite your lip at your neediness. chan chuckles, and you hear a rustling on his end of the phone.

“you need me, baby boy? did i hear that right?” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut.

“that’s hyung to you, sir.” you correct.

“you're barely older than me! don't make me call you that.” chan whines.

“yeah, yeah. hurry up over there and come over, okay?” chan huffs playfully.

“okay. give me like thirty minutes, i'll head out right as i finish.” you smile, pursing your lips together at the thought of seeing him again.

“see you soon, channie.”

“see you soon, y/n-ie.”

---

it's almost exactly thirty minutes before you hear a knock at your door. you jump up, running to unlock it, greeted with your best friend dressed in all black.

“hi, channie.” you say softly, playing with the hem of your shirt. chan smiles, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“hi, hyung. i missed you.” chan whispers as you sigh, wrapping your arms around him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. chan chuckles, squeezing you tighter. “you okay?” you shake your head.

“just… long day. needed to be around someone.” chan nods, caressing your back, holding you tight.

“i know, sweetheart. i’m here now, okay?” you bury your face deeper into his neck.

“okay.”

it feels like eternity, standing there in the atrium, hugging chan. but you wouldn't have it any other way. chan breaks the silence, clearing his throat.

“hyung, let's go to your room. you need to get some rest.” you groan, holding chan tighter.

“i'm not tired. i still have work i need to do, i’m so behind and-”

“hey, hey.” chan pulls away, holding your shoulders at an arm’s distance. “don't worry about all that. just get some rest, with me, yeah?” chan cups your face in his hand, caressing your cheek. you lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut.

“okay.. fine.” you give up, melting into chan’s touch. chan giggles, moving a hand from your shoulder down to your hand.

“that’s my hyungie.” chan praises, leading you up to your bedroom. 

once you get there, you sit against the headboard of the bed, pulling a blanket over your lower half. “let me help you.” chan offers, sitting beside you and gently pulling the blanket over both of you. “we can watch a movie or something if you want?” chan suggests, snuggling closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and laying his head on your shoulder.

“we can watch something, i'm okay with that.” you lay your head against chan's head, closing your eyes and sighing softly. chan moves a hand to your thigh, caressing it softly.

“alright, anything in particular you want to watch?” chan asks, rubbing small circles on your thigh, feeling your breathing slow down. “or should we pick something together?” chan hums, enjoying the warmth of your body against his.

“what was that movie you watched with stay the other day?” you ask. “i was busy when you watched it, so i never got to see it.”

“oh- about time?” chan blushes. “that’s like my favorite movie. i’d so be okay with watching that again.” you smile, reaching for the remote and turning on the tv. you pull up the movie and press play, chan’s thigh against yours, his hand caressing your skin.

the two of you enjoy the movie, cuddling and leaning against each other. about halfway through, a sex scene pops up on the screen, shocking you. you purse your lips, trying to focus on the screen, instead of the hand on your bare thigh. chan continues caressing your skin, seemingly unbothered by the scene on the tv.

“hyung.” chan whispers, moving his hand closer to your inner thigh. “i’ll stop if you tell me to.” you shake your head, eyes falling down to the blankets, covering chan’s hand.

“it’s.. it’s okay.” chan hums, continuing to stroke your thigh, matching the rhythm of the movie's steamy scene. he keeps his gaze on the screen, as you bite your lip and refuse to look up. chan slowly snakes his hand up your inner thigh, dangerously close to your crotch. chan nuzzles his face against your shoulder, as you bite back a whimper.

“hyung...” chan murmurs, turning to you, stopping his hand right above your growing bulge. “do you want me to stop?” his voice trembles, his breath warm against your neck.

you shake your head. “no, i… please keep going.” the movie forgotten, you purse your lips together, turning away from chan from embarrassment.

“good boy.” chan praises, his heart pounding out of his chest. he slides his hand up to your clothed erection, palming it gently through your shorts. chan presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck, slipping a hand under your shorts and cupping your length over your underwear. you whimper, squeezing your eyes closed.

“channie…”

“shh, it’s okay, hyung. i’ve got you.” chan reassures, stroking your erection through your underwear. he presses soft kisses down your neck, nibbling gentle marks into your skin. “so fucking hot for me, yeah?” chan teases, increasing the pressure slightly.

“shit…” you bite back a moan, looking down at where chan is touching you.

“i know, baby.” chan coos, feeling you twitch beneath his touch. “i want to make you feel good, okay?” chan whispers, sliding his hand inside your underwear and gripping you gently. “is this okay?” he asks, his own erection straining against his pants.

“yes, yes, please, channie.” you beg, your dick twitching in chan’s hold. you shift the blanket, moving it off your crotch so you can watch him touch you. the cold air is a welcome feeling, as chan’s hand is so warm against you.

“fuck, hyung.” chan gasps, his eyes widening at the sight of your hardened length. he takes a deep breath, leaning down and taking you into his mouth.

“chris! oh, fuck.” you buck up into his mouth at the sudden feeling, his mouth warm and tight around your cock. chan chuckles around you at the use of his real name, as he moves a hand down to play with your balls gently.

chan hums around you, sucking harder, his tongue dancing along your shaft. chan caresses your balls gently, eliciting another whimper from you. “you taste so good.” he lifts off your cock to breathe, then dives back in, swallowing your length fully and bobbing his head rhythmically.

“channie, oh my god.” you bury a hand in his hair, just petting it, not trying to force him to stay down on your cock. you throw your head back, whimpering as chan swallows around you.

“i’m not stopping, hyung.” chan promises, leaning back down, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks you deep. chan releases your balls, gripping your thighs tightly, hard enough to leave marks. “cum in my mouth, hyung.” he begs. chan increases his pace, sucking harder and bobbing quicker, his saliva dripping down your shaft. he takes you fully in his mouth, his nose brushing against your pubic bone. you hold back a loud moan and bite your bottom lip. 

“close, channie. so close.” chan nods, swallowing around you, humming gently. a hot flash runs through your body, your hips bucking involuntarily into chan’s mouth. you come with a loud groan, filling chan’s mouth with your warm seed. you shake through your orgasm, your body going weak and your head falling back against the headboard. you pant, petting chan’s hair as he gently sucks you clean.

“there you go, baby.” chan praises, swallowing your cum and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. he presses a kiss to the side of your cock, humming happily. “are you alright?” chan asks, looking up, concern in his voice. you nod, visibly exhausted, opening your eyes slowly to see a red-faced chan with a crooked smile, his mouth slightly open.

“i- thank you, chan. that was…” chan giggles, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“anytime, hyungie.” chan smiles, his heart racing. he sits closer to you, pulling you into a hug. “how do you feel?” he asks, his erection hard against your hip. you blush, leaning into his hug, shifting so your hip brushes against his bulge. chan whimpers, burying his face into your neck.

“i’m okay… what about you, channie? can i help you?” you whisper, caressing his inner thigh. chan whines, breathing heavily against your neck.

“hyung...” chan stammers, his erection pulsating against your hip. “i want to fuck you.” he confesses, his voice barely audible. “but only if you're okay with that.” he adds, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

“oh, god.” you throw your head back in shock. “i want nothing more than that. please?” you plead and chan lets go of you, throwing the blankets off you both, sitting in front of you. he carefully guides you to lay on your back, your head against the pillow. chan giggles, slipping your shorts and underwear off your legs, leaving you alone in your shirt. chan slips off his shirt, revealing his perfectly toned body. you purse your lips together, admiring his body. “you’re so beautiful, chris.” chan blushes, looking away, covering his face with his hands.

“stoppp… i’m not.. i’m not beautiful.” you pull chan down, his legs kneeling on either side of your torso. you cup chan’s face with one of your hands, the other placed on his chest.

“you’re perfect, in every way. you’re so, so, pretty, christopher.” chan whines, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his face flushed red. “i mean it, baby. you’re so beautiful.” chan groans, pulling himself up.

“okay, okay, i get it, you’re in love with me.” chan teases, kneeling on his shins, slipping out of his shorts and underwear. you tilt your head to the side, admiring chan’s body.

“you’re not wrong. i’ve kinda always been in love with you, chris.” chan stops in his tracks, making eye contact with you.

“i… i love you too, hyung.” chan mumbles, his heart overflowing with emotion. he looks down, pumping his cock twice, his tip wet with precum.

you melt, reaching your hand out to hold chan’s. “so pretty, channie.” chan shakes his head, shy, taking your hand into his.

“hyung…” chan whimpers, his eyes locked on yours. he positions himself between your legs, his tip pressing against your entrance. “are you sure?” he asks, his voice shaking. you nod.

“i’m sure, channie. i’m good, go ahead.” you squeeze chan’s hand. chan takes a deep breath, pushing in slowly, hissing as he feels the tightness of your entrance. he stops, waiting for you to adjust. 

“you okay?” he asks, his face flushed. you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping chan’s hand tightly.

“so- so big, channie.”

“sorry, hyungie.” chan apologizes, pulling out slightly and slowly pushes in again, a little further this time. “i’ll be gentle, i promise.” he whispers, his eyes locked on your face. you purse your lips together, gripping chan’s hand as tight as you can.

“it’s okay- ah,” you whimper. “you can go deeper. i can take it.” chan nods, thrusting slightly deeper, eyes blown wide at the sensation.

“fuck, you’re so tight, hyung.” he groans, starting a gentle pace, rocking back and forth out of you. you throw your head back at the burn, squeezing chan’s hand at every thrust. he squeezes back gently.

“puppy, feels so good.”

you can feel chan twitch inside of you, and he collapses onto your chest. he breathes heavily, holding your hand tight, stalling the movement of his hips.

“call me that again.” you chuckle, slipping your free hand into his hair.

“what..? puppy?” chan whines, burying his face into your shirt. he ruts up into you involuntarily, groaning as he pushes deeper into you.

“you’re driving me crazy, hyung.” his thrusts pick up again, going deeper every time. you softly pull his hair, groaning at the wonderful mix of pleasure and pain.

“just like that, puppy, you’re doing so well.” chan gasps into your shirt, his pace growing frantic. he fucks you harder, his free hand gripping your hip tightly. you moan loudly, eyes blown wide, watching chan fall apart on top of you.

“i’m- fuck, i’ll cum if you keep calling me that.” he bites the fabric of your shirt, his dick twitching inside of you as he ruts deeper into you. you squeeze his hand, pulling his hair so he lifts his head. chan looks up at you with teary eyes, a pout on his lips. you pull him closer, kissing him gently, your tongue running over his bottom lip. chan whimpers into the kiss, his dick throbbing inside of you. he slips his tongue inside your mouth, matching the frantic movement of his hips. he bites gently at your bottom lip, licking into you hungrily.

“good boy,” you whisper between kisses. “just like that, puppy.” you suck on chan’s tongue, squeezing his hand. chan moans into your mouth, his thrusts becoming sloppy. he fucks you harder, feeling his orgasm building up.

“hyung!” chan cries out, holding your waist tightly. he gasps between kisses.

“come on, puppy, you’ve got it.” you praise, kissing his nose. “come for me, pretty boy.”

chan chokes out a sob, arching his back, releasing into you. he kisses you hungrily, riding out his high. “i love you, hyung.” he whimpers, spilling his seed into you, pumping it deeper. you pet his hair gently, letting go of his hand. you cup his face, caressing his cheek, wiping a stray tear off his face.

“you did so well for me, puppy. i love you so much.” chan nuzzles his face into your hand, quietly letting the tears fall. “hey, hey, are you okay..?” you panic, frantically wiping his tears with both hands. chan nods in your hands, taking a deep breath.

“yeah, i’m sorry, just…” chan wipes his own tears away, embarrassed. he buries his face into your chest, murmuring. “just overwhelmed.” his voice cracks. your heart aches.

“i know, baby. i’ve got you.” you hold him closer, petting his hair and kissing his scalp. chan whimpers, holding onto you tightly. he lays on top of you, panting heavily, trying to catch his breath.

“you made me feel so good, hyung. thank you.” he mumbles into your shirt. you chuckle, tilting his head up by his chin to meet your eyes.

“anytime, channie. that was perfect.” you kiss chan’s nose. he giggles, kissing your lips tenderly. he smiles into the kiss, burying his face into your neck.

“thank you, hyung.” he whispers, nuzzling his face against your skin. you squeeze chan in your arms, sighing contentedly.

“i’ll hold you as long as you need, but we need to clean up soon, baby.” you caress his back, skating your fingertips along his muscles. chan shivers, snuggling into your embrace. he nods slightly, then slowly sits up, slipping out of you with a groan.

“we- we should clean up now, i think.” you nod, sitting up, wincing as globs of chan’s cum spill out of you onto the bedsheets. you chuckle, looking down at the blankets. 

“we’re gonna have to do laundry, too.” chan giggles, helping you up to your feet, kissing your shoulder.

“let’s do that tomorrow, yeah? for now…” chan pulls you in for a passionate kiss. “let’s take a shower, okay?” he whispers against your lips. you nod, rubbing your nose against his.

“good idea, pup.” chan blushes, covering his face with his hand.

“stoppp it, hyung.” he whines, turning away and heading towards the bathroom as you follow closely behind, knowing that tonight is nowhere near over.

[impactdial]

oh god this is kinda embarrassing but i was organizing some phone notes and i’m just dumping a bunch of n/sfw sanuso headcanons here. its not that graphic or anything but sorry in advance lol

-i said this in my other hc post but they’re both vers switches. sanji just tends to be more or less of a sub every time LOL he’s definitely within pathetic sub top territory.

-i think like maybe 7 out of 10 times they have non penetrative sex. not that either of them are opposed to it, it’s more that they both just get too excited and desperate, and touch and grind against each other before the question of getting naked even comes up (this has led to many awkward walk of shames to do laundry discreetly)

-they were absolutely virgins before they started dating (ok but truthfully usopp figured this on his own anyway BUT he was definitely relieved that sanji didn’t have any more of a clue of what to do than he did)

-usopp is really into feeling sanji’s body hair, especially his stomach and his chest. and sanji is a little obsessed with usopps curves and muscles

-ok sorry to indulge but i think sanji would have a praise kink and by extension would be a little into puppy play/collaring. sorry

-lowkey usopp also has a praise kink but he just prefers to indulge sanji more (he gets too embarrassed and in his own head about it sometimes if the focus is strictly just on him)

-kinda related to prev but even though they like to tease each other it never goes that far. they talk very sweet to each other and sanji especially makes it a point to be very affectionate and voice how good he feels with usopp

-usopps got tiny titties (compared to the rest of him anyway) and yet sanji gets so worked up seeing them when usopp doesn’t bind (binding tape specifically) he throws up like an overexcited dog

-they’re both so sappy and a little pathetic during sex ngl. sanji would be DISGUSTED if you called it anything other than love making

-this is also kinda self indulgent but usopp absolutely manhandles sanji during sex and most of the time it’s unintentional. it’s mostly reactionary and he’s just doing what feels good (putting his whole weight onto sanji while on top of him, etc) and sanji loves it. (“if i die, i die. what better way to go” “….man you’re into some weird stuff but ok!”)

-I’m so sorry class but i’m a small schlong sanji believer. nothing else to say i just want everyone to know that

[jadedxhearts]

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐈𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮"

original ask: "Hi jadedrrose I COMPLETELY LOVE ❤️❤️❤️❤️ the Jealousy and The Experiment you wrote for Law!!!!! They are sooo good and addicting!!!! I was wondering if I can please request Law x female reader NSFW with Dialog Prompt 1. “I’m in love with you.” Thank you"

originally posted on July 25, 2022

Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills!

You’d honestly thought you’d never see this day come.

When you had began dating Law, you knew from the start that he would be very closed off at times, and it would take a lot of work to form a bond between the two of you, to trust and love one another.

Not that you doubted him, but you just didn’t expect to get this far. If anything, you doubted yourself.

Today marked the day that you’d been dating Law for a year. Really, you were quite pleased with how the last year had gone. He’d really opened up to you, and you were very happy with him. But he had yet to say those words;

“I love you.” Or something along those lines, at least.

It’s not like you were upset about that, though. Law wasn’t the most affectionate man, preferring to keep all that stuff private and only saying things when he truly meant it and was ready to say so.

So here you were, staring at yourself in the mirror of the women’s bathroom on the submarine (conveniently there were only two women, so you always had plenty of time to get ready).

You’d put on a nice dress, a satin blue one. You figured Law would like it, or at least you hoped he would.

Looking over your makeup one last time, you stepped out of the bathroom and made your way up to the outside part of the submarine.

When you walked out, you noticed that there was a table with two chairs set up, Law sitting in one of the two, some fairy lights, and the guys all bothering Law, it seemed like.

“Tell her that she smells good?” Penguin suggested.

“Or that she’s the prettiest bear around!” Bepo chimed in.

“Bepo, you’re the only one who’s a bear…” Shachi reminded him.

“Oh, that’s right.”

“Enough! You guys are all idiots. No wonder none of you can get a girl to like you,” Law snapped.

The four then looked towards you with wide eyes upon hearing your laughter.

The three crew mates scurried away, leaving you and Law.

“We’re they giving you pointers? As if this was the first date?” You asked, still giggling.

“I guess,” Law answered. “I shouldn’t have asked them for any advice. They know nothing.”

You sat down across from him and smiled at the food laid out before you. A mix of both you and Law’s favorite dishes. Plus some wine.

“Aw, did you set this all up?”

“Most of it, yeah,” Law bashfully replied.

Your heart felt all warm and fuzzy, thinking about all the effort he went to just for you.

—

After the dinner, Law had taken you back to his room, and now you found yourself laid out on the bed, the skirt part of your dress pushed up as Law had a firm grip on your thighs, holding them apart as he licked at your soaked cunt.

“You taste better than that damn dinner those idiots made us,” Law muttered against you, moving his lips slightly up to suck at your clit.

“Mmm, Law… don’t stop,” you moaned.

“Not even to tell you how good you taste?”

“No!” You whined, pushing him back into your wetness, hands tangled in his hair.

As he continued sucking at your clit, he removed a hand from your plush thighs and began teasing you, touching your folds but not inserting his fingers at all.

“Sh-shit! Just finger me already!”

“Who’s in charge here?” Law asked, tone more stern now.

“You, Law… fuck.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said, a grin on his face as he returned to what he’d been doing, only this time he did put his fingers in you.

His long fingers moved at a fast pace, and the suckling at your now swollen clit was becoming harder and making you feel like you were going to pass out.

“Fuck, Law… I’m gonna cum, fuck. D-don’t stop.”

He tried pushing his fingers in further, not stopping for a second. And when he added a third…

You let out a loud, nearly pornographic moan and let go of his hair to lay back, throwing your arms around your face.

Law pulled away from your pussy, smirking as he pulled your head up and presented his fingers in front of your mouth.

“Suck,” he demanded.

You opened your mouth and let him slide his fingers inside. His eyes never left your lips, watching the way you sucked on and lapped up all the juices on his tattooed fingers.

Once he was satisfied, he pulled his fingers away and moved to get his jeans off. He then sat up against the pillows, motioning for you to come sit on his lap.

“Want you to ride me,” he told you, arms wrapping around you as you hovered over his cock.

He leaned forward and locked lips with you, kissing you passionately as he slid his length inside you. Unable to control your moans, you let out a long one that was muffled by his lips, but you could feel him smirking at the noise.

“That’s right, ride my cock like a good little slut,” he praised you, holding you tight and continuing to kiss you. “Moan into my mouth.”

So you moved your hips faster, and moaned with every thrust. You loved the way he stretched you.

“Shit, I’m already so close,” he muttered against your lips.

“Me too,” you cried. “Law, let me cum again, please- agh.”

He angled his hips and began rubbing circles on your overstimulated clit, telling you to cum on his cock and squeeze him nice and tight.

With another lewd moan, you came for a second time, followed by Law releasing his own cum inside you.

As you pulled away, you could feel your mixed juices spilling out of your cunt and down your thighs, dripping onto Law’s lap.

You collapsed, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him gently, too tired to fully go for his lips.

He held you close, rubbing your back and helping you relax after the intimate session. As he laid there doing so, he couldn’t help but feel… strange. His heart felt full, and the sight of you right now was simply so beautiful to him.

Law knew then, he was ready to say it.

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out, interrupting the silence.

You blinked, eyes wide and you just couldn’t help but to start smiling from ear to ear.

“You… are?”

“Yes. I’m sorry it took me this long to say it, but I love you, (Name)-ya.”

So you hugged him tighter, this time planting a firm kiss onto his lips. “Don’t apologize. I don’t care if it would’ve taken you thirty years, I’d still be glad and feel the same. I love you too, Law.”

For the first time in a while, he smiled. A genuine smile. Law was glad that you’d been so patient with him. He wouldn’t regret this, loving you. Even if he was worried about losing you, he’d come to realize that it didn’t mean he couldn’t love you.

So, he decided from this moment onward that he’d always make sure to tell you how much he loves you, and to make sure you felt loved forever.

And you couldn’t be happier.