#z-wobble

[ragsy]

Printed and painted my Maggie heroforge :')

[oh-meow-swirls]

yo-kai watch is such an enigma i feel like. it's such a niche franchise and yet it's gotten crossovers with big names like final fantasy and sanrio. how does it manage this. i know it's bigger in japan but it's still not mainstream or anything-

[pandaemoanium]

TIL a lot of the brushes in csp lie about the stabilizers max setting, and that you can actually set it even higher

i was so sure that im just so bad at making smooth lineart that even stabilizer cant help me, but it turns out i was only using it on 1/4 power 😭😭

[boyslit-moving]

piss!!!! i just remembered i haven't rescued my monster friends!!!!!!!

[cryptic-forge]

me & partner went to take a walk in the woods, and took a gobbo with us to experience some nature. also features me as a background cryptid in the last photo.

the goblins need some sculpt updates, and also a reprint because the original gobbos are blighted with z wobble, but i still love taking them outside. photographing the littlest of guys experiencing situations is great.

[sparklystarrrr]

Dear Fae~

Synopsis: Reader pines after Sebek and tries to gain his attention as much as they can… in a few different ways…

Contains: Sebek Z. x Gn! Reader, jealousy, some cursing, can u tell I love him, flips from (y/n)'s POV to third person POV a lot, kinda crack, lovely guest appearances from all first years (plus Lilia), hints of Jack x reader? (not rly they don't have feelings for each other), reader is dense asf

It was day one of trying to get Sebek Zigvolt’s romantic attention.

Although I just came to the world-crushing realization I had a crush on that big guy, I was going to do anything in my power to make him mine! First Operation: Damsel in distress!

~~

“Ace, this is kinda stupid…” (y/n) sighed heavily while crouching behind a wall peering into the next hallway. “Oh shut up, you’ll live, now when he comes past that corner you run and trip over that bench. Then you fall and hurt your ankle!” Ace said with pride like it was the best idea his tiny brain could form(it was). Before this, the two had scoped out Sebek’s schedule for the whole week prior to this and where he goes after every 5th period of the day. He would turn the corner at the end of the hallway to go to his potionology class. “Literally what the fuck…”They deadpanned. This plan involved hurting themself? Great Ace, great. The things they did for love�� “Do I actually need to hurt myself? What if he steps around me, or even worse… Malleus shows up…” (y/n) grimaced. “You’re gonna be fine (y/nnnnn) stop worrying so much, its annoying.” Ace groaned and flopped himself on (y/n)’s shoulder like he was the damsel, in which they shrugged him off.  

Before (y/n) could say another word, the thumping of heavy thundering footsteps approached near the corner… The two sat wide eyed and panicked for a moment before Ace shoved (y/n) to their feet and practically propelled them forward into a staggering run. At this point tripping over the bench would be completely unintentional, but at least it would look a bit more real? (y/n)’s foot successfully got caught on the leg of the bench and they fell to their knees, effectively scraping them up. Not only was their ankle swollen and throbbing but they also gained cuts on their knees, thanks Ace. “O-ow!” They yelped out as the mint haired young man turned the corner to find (y/n) on the ground with tears in their (e/c) eyes.

“HUMAN, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS TOMFOOLERY???!! Sebek boomed. “RISE TO YOUR FEET THIS INSTANT!!!! LORD MALLEUS SHALL NOT SEE YOU IN THIS STATE AND NEITHER SHALL I!!!!!”He demanded and dropped his books aside, aiding the now beat up (y/n) to their feet. Their legs wobbled, one much more in pain than the other”Sebek… I don’t think I can walk… Could you help me?” They batted their eyelashes through the tears filling their lower lash and the throbbing pain in their ankle. This plan HAD to work!

They clutched their hands against the fabric of his blazer and tossed their head to the side as if they truly were a frail and fragile damsel. The tips of Sebek’s pointy ears flushed a light pink."Y-YES I SUPPOSE AS YOU'VE INJURED YOURSELF IT IS ONLY CORRECT FOR ME TO FULFILL MY DUTIES AS LORD MALLEUS DRACONIA'S KNIGHT!!!!" His gloved hands effortlessly wrapped under their knees and back, supporting them as he charged toward the nurses office. (y/n) turned back to Ace who they flipped off as a thank you while getting carried away by their knight in shining armor.

⊰᯽⊱┈─❊─┈⊰᯽⊱

Day two of trying to get Sebek Zigvolt's romantic attention.

Since operation one was successful to a degree where he did what we thought he would, we had to come up with a new plan to find out his feelings and make him mine. He was such a dreamy, chivalrous, handsome, and ohhh so attractive boy- anyways. It was off to Operation Two: Call Him a Cute Nickname!

~~ ”What if he doesn’t like it and he stomps me…”(y/n) sweat-dropped as they walked through the hallway, limping a bit from the previous operation. Ace hit them in irritation”YOU’LL BE FINE.” It was only operation 2 out of 5 and Ace was already tired of (y/n) doubting his amazing love advice. Deuce followed along this time but (y/n) wasn’t sure how much he could help in this situation… “Call him something cute, not what Ace said. Crocs would probably do the opposite of what you want.” The blue haired boy said rather wisely for someone so aloof. “Dude, Crocs would’ve been fucking hilarious though!” Ace whined at his idea being chucked out the window. “Shut the hell up Ace, if I could think of a nickname for you it would be some shit like Stinky Bitch” (Y/n) retorted while laughing. “Hey, I don’t stink!” "I like how he ignored the bitch part 'cause he knows he's a bitch." Deuce cackled.

"Should I call him, like, Sebby??-" "HUMAN THAT IS NOT MY NAME!!!" an erupting voice from you-know-who shouted. The three idiots jumped in horror from Sebek's surprise attack. In shock and horror, and using their self defense skills taught by Vargas, they swung their fist into Sebek. Before it could even graze his face, he caught their fist with his fingers wrapping around it."HOW UNBECOMING, HUMAN! ATTEMPTING TO ATTACK A KNIGHT OF LORD MALLEUS DRACONIA IS INCREDIBLY IDIOTIC!!!" He shouted, (y/n) swore they saw a hint of pink on the tips of his ears and cheeks. "I'm sorry! But you gotta admit, Sebby's a cute nickname. Don'tcha think, Sebby?" It could be categorized as flirting at this point they way they spoke to him, but that was too forward! This was just... light teasing?

"H-human... YOU'VE TRULY OUTDONE YOURSELF THIS TIME.... PROVIDING A FAE WITH A NAME RATHER THAN THE ONE GIVEN BY BIRTH IS UNFORGIVABLE-" "Well you call me 'Human' so... technically you'd be breaking that rule too!" (y/n) said in a tone that sounded rather cheerful despite literally being launched into the next dimension from the sheer volume of his voice at this new name bestowed on him.

"Ah, I see, you've bested me JUST THIS ONCE!!!!" He emphasized the end with a ridged finger pointing in the air. (y/n) noticed how their hand was still embraced in his leather clad hand tightly and smiled. "Does holding my hand make you more agreeable? I haven't seen you agree with me so easily until now Sebby!" That sweet smile of theirs made Sebek almost malunfiction. His face went a bright raspberry pink and he sweated profusely while ripping his hand off of theirs and attaching it to his side. "N-NO, THAT WOULD BE A DISHONOR NOT ONLY TO YOU BUT TO MYSELF AS WELL!!! THAT IS BUT A FIB HUMAN!!!!"

And with that, he sprinted off leaving a cloud of dust behind him. He had been pink from his hairline to his neck and they swore they could hear his heart beating out of his chest, plus the sweat dripping down his forehead. They turned back to Ace and Deuce who stood awkwardly"... Is that a win?"

"I don't even know man..."Deuce questioned while looking at Ace for input.

"Maybe? Crocs was PINK, my guy."Ace said, giving (y/n) a cheerful high-five.

⊰᯽⊱┈─❊─┈⊰᯽⊱

Day three of trying to get Sebek Zigvolt's romantic attention.

We'd rallied Epel into our shenanigans now. He was awfully argumentative about joining our road to success, aka me getting with Sebby, but with enough convincing he decided to put Vil's lessons in love to good use! It was Operation Three: Open Ears!

~~

"Jus' listen to him whenever he's yappin', that big guy needs someone to word vomit to, ya'know?" Epel said through his thick country accent. Vil had given him some pointers in love, listening to your partner was at the top five recommendations. It was known very well by basically every single student at NRC that Sebek was a TALKER. He would rant mainly about Malleus, Lilia and the greatness of faes, the occasional knightly training he does, and school. The real challenge was getting to sit down somewhere and let him rant to his hearts content...

"Ask him to study. You know that guy's CRAZY about his studies."Ace smirked.

''Maybe just go on a walk with him or somethin'? It's a lot easier to talk n' walk." Epel suggested.

"Or maybe... I don't know..."Deuce trailed after his two ideas were just swiped from under him. The four of them giggled over their lunches and ultimately came to the conclusion of... drum roll please....

"Eh, I need to study anyways."(y/n) thought to themself. It was like killing two birds with one stone, or in this context, three birds with one stone. They were getting to spend time with their future husband(who doesn't even know his fate yet), execute this plan to its fullest AND study for the upcoming test in Crewel's potionology class.

When thinking, (y/n) remembered they had the green haired boy’s number. Perfect! Just a quick text to him and then it would be off to the library to chat with him! If only it was that simple…

~ an hour later~ 

“It’s been an hour, he still hasn’t answered!”(y/n) grumbled at the lunch table.“Just wait, what if he eventually does?” Deuce placed his hand on their shoulder in support. “I’m literally about to text Lilia, AND I WOULD NEVER DO THAT…” Their lamenting caught the ear of said fae. Floating cheekily over to them, he spooked them with his scarily deep voice,”You want to message me? About what?” He grinned. “AH- uh… nothing.” They sweat-dropped, albeit it was obvious they were clearly needing to talk to him about something. “Dear (y/n), if it is about Sebek, I would say that scheduling an afternoon in the library would be favorable if a chat with him is what you desire. Would you like me to speak to him about it?” 

‘Oh… it was that easy?’ (y/n) thought to themself. “Yeah sure, if that’s not too much trouble!” they replied happily. “Oh (y/n), you think I’m so old that messaging the young boy would cause me trouble? Don’t be silly! I am a sigma, as the kids these days say~” He then floated off while giggling, leaving the four freshmen at the table absolutely flabbergasted.”Okay anyways… You’ve secured your spot with the guy I guess?” Ace was completely gobsmacked by Lilia’s new choice of vocabulary and the whole conversation in general, not like his singular braincell would’ve understood it anyways. “Dayum, ol’ man really did more in one second that we could do in three days.”Epel sighed while eating his food. “Whatever whatever, I get to hang out with him later!”(Y/n) squealed while thinking of all the cute outfits they could wear to this mini date.

~ time skip ~

Clad in their favorite casual outfit of jeans and a white tank top, (y/n) made their way to the library where Sebek went down isles of books in wait for them. He was early, of course. It was the only time (y/n) had seen him in such casual clothing too. It was rather late at night and it looked as if his training had just finished. His hair was down in contrast to his usually gelled up hair. He wore a black hoodie which was something they thought they’d never see. Along with that, he wore dark gray sweatpants and sneakers. It wasn’t like he was sweaty either, he just had cheeks dusted with a light red flush and his normal scent of musky and woodsy cologne. It was as if he didn't even spend his time training before this which (y/n) doubted he did at this point. It looked more like he got pointers for casual date attire from Silver or someone in Daisomnia.

Despite the reason for meeting up being made for talking together and studying, it seemed much warmer than that. Not many words were initially exchanged like a normal conversation, more like back and forth ranting and gentle thought out reactions. It was quiet between the two yet there was no silence at all. Sebek's previous tension in his shoulders was relieved. (Y/n)'s anxieties of how the 'date' would go subsided. The books picked out before getting discarded onto the table they leaned upon. There was meaning behind every word spoken. Sebek spoke of the greatness of Malleus while (y/n) spoke of the greatness of leaders in their world. Sebek spoke of the challenges provided in school and (y/n) brought forth how they hurdled the difficulties set before them. It was like a painting being formed. Soft and slow, but emotions in every brush stroke. Every addition of color added a new feeling, a new connection until they blended into a masterpiece. It was a conversation that stretched on till midnight, when the brightest star in the dark sky was the flame igniting between them.

Needless to say, this plan was a definite success.

⊰᯽⊱┈─❊─┈⊰᯽⊱

It was day four of trying to gain Sebek Zigvolt's romantic attention...

It was exhausting attempting to put myself out there over and over again for his attention. I wish we both had  that confidence to do that. I’m way too shy and he’s way too stubborn to ever admit he likes someone more than Malleus or Lilia. Whatever, it was Operation Four: The Way to the Heart is Through the Tummy!

~~

(y/n) really thought this was the end of this charade? NEVER. These first years all equally had something up their sleeve and they knew how down bad (y/n) was. At this point (y/n) was kinda done with them and this whole “getting Sebek’s attention” thing but they wouldn’t say that outloud, would they? It just felt like a bunch of ways to embarrass themself in front of him. At least they were okay at cooking?

“You need food to grow muscle. That guy works out every day to be a knight, he’s got to have a huge appetite, make him something good.” Jack said in his rather monotonous voice. He was someone who seemed a LOT wiser than the other three buffoons who decided having (y/n) sprain their ankle and get yelled at by Sebek a bunch of times was a good idea. “Yeah but, what would I make..?” (y/n) wondered. “Should I just make his favorite food?”

"Well that would be a good start, what does he like?" Jack said while grabbing a few pans and utensils. "He likes salmon carpaccio." It was the most confident statement (y/n) spoke in the last few days. There was no questioning when it came to the things Sebek liked. They knew everything they could about him and he made sure to say them at a volume every universe could hear. "Salmon carpaccio? That's a pretty difficult dish to make. You sure you wanna put yourself through that?" Jack questioned. "Yeah, I'm one hundred percent sure Jack. I wanna make him fall in love and nothing's been working. Do you think this will work?" (y/n) sounded almost exhausted. Why couldn't they just be in a relationship with him already.

There was such a yearning for him that nothing mattered at this point. No matter the dish, plan, or dilemma, it was a desire to be with him. This was a new type of love they'd been feeling for him. It was like a force to keep them going. "This'll work fine, (y/n). I doubt anyone besides his family's made this for him. Be like family to him." Oh... (y/n)'d never thought of that. It was almost like a breath of fresh air and clarity talking to Jack about this because he was the only one out of the freshmen who could lay out ideas that seemed genuinely thought out. "Okay... let's get to work then."

With that, they got to quick work with the meal meant for a knight. They quickly sauted the salmon and prepared the vegetables meant to garnish them. While cutting the onions, (y/n)'s eyes got so teary that they ended up accidentally cutting their finger without noticing through their blurry vision. Did every plan really involve accidentally hurting themself?? They yelped in pain and held their hand to their lip, trying to stop the stinging and blood leaving their finger. Jack's ears turned to the sudden squeal of pain coming from his friend. "(y/n)! What happened!" He rushed over from the salmon being prepared on the stove to them. "N-nothing, just cut myself!" Jack sighed and grabbed the first-aid cut in the cupboard above the counter and quickly pulled out bandaids and ointments.

"How about you just garnish it when the salmon's done..." He deadpanned while tending to (y/n)'s finger. Like many times before, Sebek's rumbling voice came from behind the kitchen door."HUMANS!! Is that salmon carpaccio I smell?!" His voice seemed rather cheerful like he had been waiting for ages to eat his favorite food again. He opened the door to see not only uncooked pieces of salmon and uncut pieces of vegetables on the counter, but his Human and Jack at the counter opposite of the food, standing close, his hand on theirs. An injury on their finger. "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS, WOLF!! YOU DARE PUT THIS HUMAN IN THE WAY OF HARM??!!" He sounded incredibly angered.

His sharp golden eyes slit like a crocodile's. It was like the lightning after his thunderous voice. His leather clad hand grabbed a handful of Jack's collar,"WHAT IS THE MEANING FOR THIS." He snarled while Jack grabbed his wrist."They simply cut themself making the garnish. Nothing more." Sebek dropped his collar and turned to (y/n), eyes still glowing with something that didn't seem equivalent to the fury in his voice. "Human, did this wolf harm you...." it sounded more of a statement than a yell. His voice lowered and so did his head, as if bowing to (y/n).

"N-no... Sebby, I accidentally injured myself trying to make salmon carpaccio for you. Nothing's going on."They seemed almost confused at this outburst. He's never acted like this besides when someone would dishonor Malleus or any fae. At their words. Sebek's face let go of the tension, his pupils rounding out once more. "Ah... I see. I sincerely apologize to you and the wolf, Human." He put a hand on his heart over the organ beating out of his chest through the fabric of his blazer. "I'll bring this over to you when it's done, 'kay?" He nodded his head in agreement and left the premise in quite a hurry. How odd? I sighed once the door shut.

"Sheesh... that guy was kind of jealous, don't you think (y/n)?" Jack said while getting back to work on the salmon, seemingly unfazed by the previous event."Jealous..? About what?" They wondered aimlessly. "Oh my Seven... never mind."

~ time skip ~

With a quick call from (y/n), Sebek was on his way to the kitchen to try the homemade salmon carpaccio. Jack wasn't there anymore since he had track and field practice, so it would just be the two of them once again. This time, he knocked thrice on the wooden door of the kitchen to make his presence known to (y/n),"HUMAN!! I HAVE ARRIVED!!" (y/n) quickly hung up their apron at the loud sound of his voice and opened the door,"Hey Sebby! Salmon carpaccio's ready!"

His eyes seemed to sparkle as you set the plate before him. He quickly grabbed the fork and with as much delicacy as a hungry croc, he scarfed down a bite, then went in for another, and another... until the whole plate was basically cleared."So, how'd you like it?" (y/n) asked as if they'd not just seen him inhale every single crumb. He had a pleasant smile on his face plus a pink blush on his cheeks,"IT WAS SUPERB HUMAN! WHAT A DELICACY! THOUGH NOT AS GREAT AS MALLEUS HIMSELF, IT TRULY COMES CLOSE IN THE RANKING!!"

"I'M GLAD YOU LIKE IT SEBBY!!!" (y/n) matched him in his eruptions of gratitude with a giggle, making Sebek even chuckle heartily, though he caught himself being soft for a human and tried to make his escape quick."AH, IT SEEMS LORD MALLEUS REQUIRES MY ASSISTANCE FOR AN ERRAND!! I SHALL BE ON MY WAY HUMAN!!" He said in his most passionate way of a 'goodbye for now' and made his way out."Come back if you ever want salmon carpaccio again!!" (y/n) yelped at him while he ran out as quickly as he came in.

All they could do now was dawn a lovesick smile while washing the dishes, thinking about how nice it would be to cook him salmon carpaccio every night and see that most genuine smile on his face again...

⊰᯽⊱┈─❊─┈⊰᯽⊱

Day uhmm... Five? This is seriously day five of trying to get his romantic attention? Damn... I really am down bad.

I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE. I NEED HIM BIBLICALLY- Operation Five: This isn't even an operation- CONFESS ALREADY (Y/N)!!!

~~

"Go on (y/n), he's right there. Jus' say it and if ya chicken out, run away right after." "Yeah, it should be a piece of cake, right Juice?" "Hey my name's not Juice, stinky bitch!-" "You guys are of no help..." The boys attempted to motivate over the phone while the terrified (y/n) laid in their bed. The four freshman who'd helped (y/n) before this all sat on facetime trying to encourage them to confess. Like said before, they were too shy. Sebek couldn't do it either because he was too involved with his devotion- Oh?

Suddenly the doorbell rang, awaking Grim from his nap. "HEY! Who's there!? Who just woke me up from my nap!" Grim shrieked in cranky anger. "Go back to bed Grim, I'll check." (y/n) patted his fuzzy head and walked to the front door of Ramshackle. They looked through the peephole to see some green and a pinkish-red. With a rather confused face and an active facetime call still on their phone, they opened the door. At the sight of a red Sebek with a bouquet of flowers in hand they shut off the call. "Sebek..?"

Before they knew it, he dropped to his knees and held the bouquet of flowers up as if an offering."HUMAN! MASTER LILIA HAS INFORMED ME THAT I-I *ahem*, I... Have some... F-FEELINGS FOR YOU!! I MUST CONFRONT THEM IN HOPES YOU RECIPROCATE THIS FEELING!!" His tone of voice was rather choppy and uneven, along with the fact that this was the first time you've ever really heard him stutter. "Oh my goodness... Yeah, I really really reciprocate those feelings..." (y/n) almost sounded in a daze from how surprised they were that Sebek was on one knee confessing right now. "THEN FROM THIS DAY ON I SHALL BEGIN COURTING YOU!! GOOD DAY, DEAR HUMAN!!"

He pushed the bouquet of (f/c) flowers into their hands and tried to make his last speedy leave before they grabbed the fabric of his blazer."Wait-" He turned back with his cheeks still burning red, "Thank you, dear fae." (y/n) spoke. They stood high on their toes and pressed a small kiss onto his slim cheek. Sebek tensed under their touch."T-THANK YOU DEAR HUMAN. I MUST BE OFF NOW!!!"

The young boy practically teleported away with the speed he used to escape (y/n). They giggled softly at his reaction and leaned on the door frame, sighing contently. They really did fall in love with their dear fae, and boy was he a cutie~

Little did (y/n) know, their phone was blowing up with texts from the first years who saw Sebek bolting through the hallways trying to get back to Daisomnia with a pink face and frazzled look. They all demanded (y/n) get back on the call and explain the situation that went down. This would be a long story....

Can you tell I was listening to Hozier while writing this (I was listening to Work Song in a one hour loop...)

[shwoo]

Snoopy and Florfty

[nanamimizz-archived]

tags: 18+ minors dni / fem reader / reader is drunk / hair that can be touched / m!receiving oral / deepthroating / cum swallowing / nipple play / mild exhibition / - let me know if i missed something.

author's note: this was not meant to be 2k. 🚬

It’s a party - Luffy got into one of his moods, the ones where he doesn’t care about what anyone else thinks and just does whatever he wants. And tonight he wanted a party with plenty of food and juice and music. Brook has been on overtime, clearing enjoying himself on the stage has he plays is guitar for the party goers. Everyone is doing something, and Zoro can see all of it from his corner of the ship. It’s a bit secluded, a little quieter than anywhere on the ship and he leans against the railing with plenty of sake to curb his wanting. From his corner he can see Sanji impressing people with his skills and Franky dancing with Chopper, Usopp regaling people of the town with stories of their adventures and Luffy among them laughing. As his lone dark eyes goes to search for the girls - Nami, Robin and you his ears pick up on some giggling.

Speak of the devil.

Robin as usual is the most composed, not a trace of pink on her warm skin as she smiles at him. You and Nami however, are more than a little drunk. Nami is red in the face and wobbles in her heels as she giggles against your head. As he brings his eyes to you, Zoro can’t help but sigh. You are by far the drunkest - flushed down to your chest and you had taken off your shoes as they hang in your fingers. Clearly Nami had dressed you for the night, a short muted cream color dress hugged at your figure and your hair was curled. He tries not to look too closely at you given your state but you normally don’t show a lot of skin day to day. It proves to be a bit of a test for the swordsmen, and it only gets harder when Robin says she’s leaving you with him.

“It’s only natural, you two do have that sort of relationship,” she raised a thin and dark brow at him - she’s teasing Zoro acknowledges with a grumble. “Who else could I leave her with in this state? Sanji?”

She laughs at the way the swordsman’s face darkens at the thought - easing him with a wave of her hand and telling him she merely jests. He takes her from you, and Robin merely smiles at the faint blush on his tan face at how he gently holds you to his side, your head on his chest as you lean on him with your eyes shut. When you were moving your face had grown tense, dizzy from the lack of balance due to amount of alcohol you had consumed prior. But now that you are in his hold you relax, sighing and nuzzling into his green coat and mumbling quietly - though his name comes out tumbling from your glossed lips once or twin. His hand rubs at your back, holding you close as he calls out to Robin to learn what it is that happened to get you like this.

“You can blame our navigator for this mess.” She laughs, adjusting her grip on Nami who had started to squirm. “One of the ladies in town started a drinking contest, stating that she’d mark down booze for the party if Nami had won. You know how she is when a deal is involved. When she couldn’t keep up she tagged in our second little doctor - and you know how she is when someone asks for help.” Robin recounted the story with unquestionable fondness as she turned to take Nami to the girls room on the ship. Zoro only nodded, feeling a twinge of annoyance in his stomach at you being dragged into a mess so stupid as a drinking contest by your goody two shoes nature. He understands you want to help your friends, but you don’t even drink enough to have any semblance of tolerance like the others do.

When Robin is out of view, he looks down at you with a stern look on his face only for it to soften when he sees how you nuzzle into his coat, a smile on your pretty face. You sigh his name, all soft and lovesick and you wrap your arms around his wide torso.

“Whats the matter with you, huh?” He asks, his voice softer than he usually talks and Zoro tries not to look too far down the front of your dress with you pressing up against him(he can perfectly see how your tits are pushed together by whatever bra Nami told you to wear with this dress). You hum, opening your eyes lined with a pretty shimmer to murmur to him,

“I missed you.” He huffs through his nose.

“You’ve seen me all day.” Your hand pushes away the flap of his coat to gain access to his bare skin, your finger traces the long but thin scar across his chest with things he’s always felt unworthy of. Affection, adoration as you look up at him now with a coquettish flutter of your lashes as you undo to the red tie around his waist and pop open his coat.

“Not that kind of missing you.” You confess, voice earnest and wanting. Through his thick head he picks up on the breathlessness of your voice and the heat in your eyes. He is quick to shake his head at you.

“You’re drunk - “ he starts only to freeze when you start to kiss at his chest. Goosebumps and a small smattering of pink begins to dust over his skin. Your fingers begin to skirt down the the green haramaki he wears. The stoic man before can help but shiver at your gentle touch. Your lips leave behind marks of sticky berry pink, and Zoro hisses at the faint marks you leave as you let your teeth nip at his taunt skin.

“You don’t have to touch me,” you murmur as your hands pull down the green fabric until it’s down his legs. Your fingers still at the waist band of his pants, ring finger gently pressing against the button of his pants. “But I want to touch you - please?”

What you know is that Zoro will indulge you - weak to the sparking heat in your eyes and the pout on your colored lips. What you don’t know is how Zoro is thinking about all the ways he is going to punish himself through vigorous training for being so weak willed, being easily tempted by you and the flutter of your eyelashes. What the hell did he train for if he can be so easily dismantled by a request he normally wouldn’t even indulge?

But it’s different, he realizes as he sees how you smile, drunk on something else that isn’t drink. It’s you who’s asking, and Zoro knows with flushed cheeks that you are his one and only weakness. Before booze, or fame, or fear of failing - you bring out the weak and frail earthly desires that rest in his flesh. It’s how you got him like this, his back to the wooden wall with you on your knees, eager and wanting. You undo the button of his pants, eyes focused on the half-hard print of his cock against his last layer as you keep your gaze on his face. Zoro does not believe in any gods, he has never had to pray to the heavens for anything but there must be something divine with how good you look like this.

Your dress riding up so he can see almost the whole of your thighs, the skin soft and plush, utterly inviting. Utterly ruining. The warm sea breeze dances over his cock but it’s nothing to compared to the heat of your mouth as you press a kiss to the head, staining it with your lipstick. You must feel him shiver, and you open your eyes and it’s humiliating that you can have more clarity in this situation than he does - you ask if he’s alright, and press another kiss to his cock this time to the shaft and Zoro feels like he’s going to die.

One tan, large, calloused hand with a square palm and long fingers goes to your head. His fingers lace through your hair, thumb rubbing against your hair to feel it’s silkiness in a brief moment of affection. Zoro is guiding your head to take his cock, you realize with a shuddering gasp and a dimness taking over your eyes. It’s head pops into your mouth and you don’t see how tightly he has to clench his fist - so tightly that his bones creak in his skin at how perfect your mouth in around the most sensitive part of his cock. You moan around the salt of his precum and you hear him curse.

“Fuck.” Deep from within his chest and voice cracking at the last syllable as he groans, gray eye shutting in pleasure when you moan around him in your mouth. Your head bobs, greedy with some sick desire to both please and torment him. To break him and to piece him back together. He’s so handsome like this, you watch his throat bob and sweat run down the vein of his neck as his grip in your hair tightens. It makes you clench, how hard Zoro tries to be honorable - to not use you for his pleasure when you are so very willing to be used by a man like him. Strong in character and body, handsome with a scarred face and strong jaw. You’ve loved him for a long time, and will love him for longer which is why you don’t mind being like this ; ruled by the headiness in between your legs as you swallow around him just feel him shudder and groan above you.

You’re more than half way around him, you can feel his cock twitch against your tongue and you hum - utterly pleased with yourself as darker green hairs tickle your nose. Turning your head and sucking hard on his length that’s pressing down your throat. You can’t yourself you think, thoughts and needs jumbled into one messy pounding between your legs. With your head moving to fuck his cock, your hands come down to the top of your dress, going into the fabric to push out your tits. The sit pretty in your palms, nipples being tweaked at by your thumbs to make you whine around the thickness of his cock.

“Damn.” Zoro sighs, pushing your head gently in a rhythm that isn’t too harsh on your throat - a gentle back and forth, a little faster than what you were doing. It’s comfortable like this for you, letting your mind simply go blank and play with your nipples that are hard and sensitive from your constant tweaking.

“You needed this bad, huh?” His deep voice comes from above you, eye transfixed on how easily you reveal yourself to him, your eyes lidded and thighs pressing against to each other to ease some of the wanting you must be feeling. That your cunt is feeling - hot and wet and soft. The thought of it makes him lick his lips, and his starts moving your head for you. Faster than before.

When you whine he only scoffs, voice deep and gruffer than ever - “Come on, finish up your fun so I can take care of you. Don’t make me wait.”

Something about his tone, demanding and commanding makes you moan around his length as you take it the deepest you have all night, swallowing around it so greedily you don’t realize that his cock twitched and swelled in it’s confines until Zoro’s form tenses from above you. It happens so fast he doesn’t even have a chance to pull out - he groans, ragged and broken as his cum spills down your throat.

You swallow it without complaint and it makes him shiver and something competitive blooms in his stomach. As he pulls his cock from your mouth slowly, and sees how it glistens in the lights that were strung up for the party, Zoro decides then and there he will get you back and more for this. The two of you barely have a chance to cover up before he picks you up and takes you to his room. You don’t even have a chance to tease about how hard you made him cum before the door shuts behind you - spelling out your own fate.

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING HAZY !!! CARLOS S. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: carlos wanted his wife to let it all out. that’s all.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), not proofread, use of explicit language, established relationship (married), soft dom!carlos, unprotected sex (pls use protection), creampie, sex as emotional outlet, dacryphilia, reader being in subspace, ion know what i wrote it’s just smut, consider this my fever dream (i have a fever)

recommended song: american by lana del rey (i kinda based it off the vibes of the song)

note: y’all should check out something devoured bc there’s not much jenson button love out there 🤭 this was also an idea i brought up to a moot (@daaiissyyyyy) because we had too much fun recommending songs back and forth enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

the spaniard didn’t usually come home earlier than his wife. his flights back to madrid were usually longer and she worked nearby. so it wasn’t everyday he got to go home and relax in front of the television while he patiently waited for her to get back from her office shift. 

what he didn’t expect, however, was the expression on her face when her eyes lit up for a brief moment at the sight of carlos.

it was as if she felt numbness in her system, telling him about her work and how much her boss frustrated her after working for hours on a project she’s dedicated herself to. 

it was one of those things that carlos had heard through the nightly facetime call with her. she spoke enthusiastically about her project while she cooked dinner for herself, to which she’d ask about his media duties and how it went for him after.

it wasn’t anything that carlos didn’t welcome; he loved her so much that her enthusiasm and cheeriness were nothing but a part of his everyday life. 

so to see her like this— less than optimistic and happy without the verge of crying (which she usually did over the little things), it didn’t sit right with him. 

“cariño,” he murmured, stopping her from moving around the kitchen as he pulled her closer to him. pinning her against the counter, she took a deep breath as he asked, “i’m here now. what do you want?” 

“i- i-“ she stammered, “i’m okay, carlos.”

“no, you’re not, bebe,” carlos mumbled, kissing her neck before his head moved up and his mouth nibbled at her ear. “i’ve been married to you for years. i know when you’re not okay.” 

his breath fanned her skin as he said, “tell me what you want, mi vida. ‘m here for you.” 

“i-“ she took a deep breath and murmured, “i just want to let it all out and cry, carlos and i can’t do it.” 

out of desperation, she turned around and faced him with a wobbling smile. “i want you to fuck me ‘til i’m crying and- make it all go away, carlos. please.” 

with a sweet smile, he tipped her head back and softly kissed her. 

“anything to help you out, cariño. let’s get you out of these clothes, hm?” 

it was like she was being split into half. 

his cock, its girth and length, was no contest to her cunt. carlos could still remember the first time her eyes landed on it as if she was wondering how it would fit into her. 

carlos loved the way her eyes would roll back when he managed to fit in snugly, fucking her while being pleased by the way her legs trembled and shook as he continued pounding into her. 

but right now, it was all about her. all she wanted was to have an outlet for her emotions. that’s what she was getting. 

he watched the way tears fell down her temple as he smiled gently. his smile differed from his actions, thrusting until he completely bottomed out of her and rolling her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, eliciting a whiny moan from her as she incoherently spoke. 

she felt like she was being split into half, yet she wanted him to break her fully. 

“‘los, wan’ more,” she whimpered, her eyes shut tight as she whined.

“i know you do, mi vida,” carlos murmured, pounding hard as her toes curled and her heels dug into his hips. “so eager for me.”

“fuck, carlos, please~” she opened her eyes for a moment. carlos saw nothing but haze in her eyes, her thoughts were already driven away from the insanity of her reality at work. 

good, carlos thought. all he wanted was to distract her from the stress. 

“you look so pretty, mi corazon,” he mumbled, his fingers pulling away from her tits to wipe her tears away. “so, so pretty.” 

“te mereces algo mejor, mi esposa,” you deserve better, my wife. carlos continued. “so much more than those people, bebe.”

she was already too fucked out to even consider what he was saying, sobbing as she begged him for more. “carlos, please fuck me harder. i wanna cu- hah~ fuck— please—“

“shh,” he tutted quietly, his fingers now trailing down to rub her clit as she let out a sharp cry. now thrusting harder and faster, carlos moaned at the way her walls clenched around his cock as he mumbled, “so fucking good for me, mi amor. cum for me, bebe.” 

her legs twitched and heels dug into his hips as she whined, “gonna cum, ‘los! i’m cumming— ah- hah~” 

she felt nothing but euphoria, her vision turning white as she let out a quiet scream. “oh, oh~” she whimpered, feeling him paint her walls white with his pleasure as they both let out choked moans. 

carlos’ breath fanned her neck as he gathered his breathing. then, he gently pulled himself out of her. she let out a whine, telling him to continue stuffing her and that she felt empty without his cock inside her. 

he stood for a brief moment, watching as her body limped and a mix of her and his pleasure oozing out of her cunt. 

with her mind still hazy she murmured, “carlos, want you.”

“i know, mi vida,” he said softly. “i’m just gonna clean you up then we’ll go to sleep.”

“but—“ she sobbed, tears falling down again. 

“no more thinking,” he told her gently, yet his words demanded her to listen. he leaned over to press a kiss on her forehead as he mumbled, “not tonight. we’re gonna go to sleep and you’re gonna listen like a good girl, hm?”

she relented, wanting to please him as she nodded. a pout still played on her lips, not happy with his words but regardless she said, “mmm…okay.” 

carlos smiled lightly. it was nice to know that she got her emotions out already— she clearly needed that more than anything. 

[platonicaxaxe]

Bad Blood: The Parallel

Bob Reynolds (sentry) x Ex Assassin Reader

Click

The sky cracked with blinding bursts of power as The Sentry and the exiled Asgardian collided midair, golden light clashing with dark celestial energy. Their blows echoed like thunder across the battlefield, shaking the ground below where chaos reigned.

On land, Alexei, Yelena, Bucky, John Walker, and Ava Starr were locked in a desperate fight against a fleet of extra-terrestrial mercenaries, who had descended with one goal: steal the Magical Orb of Celestara, said to hold unimaginable power.

Yelena’s voice burst through the coms, sharp and urgent.

“Walker! They've got the orb!”

Every Avenger(z) heard it.

The lead alien, a tall obsidian-scaled brute with glowing blue eyes, activated his gravity boots and began ascending to the ship hovering above, the orb clutched to his chest.

But before he could reach safety, a blur of white launched from the shadows.

A woman—clad in a modified White Widow suit—flipped over the alien mid-air, landing on the ship’s hull with surgical precision. Y/N Y/L/N. Deathtrap. Back in action.

She slipped into the ship through its open hatch just as it began to close. Inside, alarms blared. Red lights flashed across the metallic corridors. Y/N ducked a plasma blade aimed at her throat, spun on her heel, and jammed her elbow into the alien’s side. The brute roared, swinging wildly.

Y/N rolled over a console, grabbed a loose cable, and wrapped it around the alien’s neck. He tossed her against a wall, but she flipped off it like a panther, landing a clean kick to his jaw. They grappled, each move clean, calculated—Red Room precision against brute alien force.

Outside, the Asgardian who had been brawling with Sentry glanced skyward. His golden eyes widened—his ship was ascending.

He smirked. The orb is mine.

The Sentry blasted toward him again, but the Asgardian dodged with a burst of cosmic light, tearing through space as a black hole began forming nearby—its pull threatening to consume everything.

Back on the ship, Y/N disarmed the alien, grabbed a blade from her thigh sheath, and drove it clean into his neck. He gurgled, slumped, dead. She yanked the orb from his body, secured it in her tactical bag, and pulled out a small device.

A high-frequency plasma bomb.

She activated it. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Then she ran—hard.

She dove through the hatch just as the ship exploded in a violent blaze, sucked into the growing black hole. Y/N was caught in the vacuum, her body hurtling downward in free fall. She twisted mid-air, but the gravitational pull was merciless.

Her heart pounded. This is it.

And then—arms like steel wrapped around her mid-air.

Golden light enveloped her as The Sentry caught her, stabilizing their descent with effortless grace.

“Ahh—” Y/N gasped, gripping his neck, face pressed into his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut.

“I got you,” Robert said, his voice low, gentle.

As they landed on the crumbling battlefield, with dust and smoke still lingering, Yelena was the first to rush over.

Bob set Y/N down gently. Her knees wobbled, and she murmured a soft, “Thanks…”

Bob smiled, eyes dazed, his expression utterly lovestruck.

Yelena’s face lit up in shock and warmth. “Y/N… it’s been a while,” she breathed, before pulling her into a hug.

They held each other tight, two shadows of the Red Room finding peace, even just for a moment.

Without a word, Y/N unzipped her tactical bag and handed Yelena the glowing orb, now stable and secured.

“Here. Keep it safe.”

Yelena nodded, taking it carefully.

Y/N looked between her and Bob. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Mind keeping me discreet from the public?”

Yelena smiled knowingly. “Of course.”

Bob looked like he wanted to say more. Stay. Don’t go. Let me come with you.

But before he could speak, Y/N turned, her white suit blending into the haze, and slipped into the shadows. One moment she was there—the next, gone.

Bob stood frozen.

Yelena watched him, then placed a hand on his arm.

“She saved the world today, you know.”

But Bob wasn’t listening.

He was staring at the spot where Y/N vanished, his chest rising and falling… heart aching, soul caught between light and shadow.

Smoke still hung in the air, the battlefield eerily quiet now save for distant sirens and the crackle of dying embers. Yelena took one last glance around, then stepped closer to Bob, lowering her voice to a near whisper.

“Bob, we can’t tell anyone about her. I mean anyone.”

Bob blinked, still dazed from the weight of her in his arms and the way she disappeared like a ghost in the wind.

“Even the others—?” he started, eyes flicking toward where their teammates were helping civilians.

Yelena cut him off immediately.

“No. If anyone finds out where she is, her entire cover is blown. It’ll ruin everything. She can’t afford that. Not now.”

Her voice trembled slightly, but her eyes were solid steel.

Bob stared at her for a long moment. Then slowly, reluctantly, he nodded.

“…Okay.”

There was silence between them before Bob cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“W-who is she, by the way?” he asked, voice low and uncertain. “I mean—what’s her name?”

Yelena gave a dry chuckle, crossing her arms.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Her tone softened. “I grew up with her. In the Red Room. She was better than most of us… and more dangerous.”

Bob’s jaw tensed. The name sounded like fire and silk on his tongue.

Before anything more could be said, the others approached—Bucky, Ava, John Walker, and Alexei—their faces worn and grimy from the skirmish but glowing with purpose after saving hundreds of lives.

“Status?” Bucky asked, still scanning the area for threats.

Yelena didn’t miss a beat. She held out the satchel.

“Orb secured. No damage.”

Bucky took it, nodding in approval. “Nice work.”

No one questioned it. Everyone assumed Yelena had been the one to retrieve the orb from the collapsing ship.

And she let them believe it.

Bob stayed quiet, his lips pressed tightly, eyes distant.

Weeks Later

The world couldn’t stop talking.

News channels, social media, and every major outlet flooded the airwaves with headlines like:

“New Avengerz Save World From Cosmic Catastrophe”

“Orb of Celestara Secured in Unprecedented Team Effort”

“The Sentry: Earth’s Golden Guardian Shines Again”

Camera flashes and applause filled every press conference. Public celebrations erupted across major cities. Murals of the Avengerz were painted on buildings. Memorials were held for fallen civilians and soldiers.

But behind all the lights and glory, Bob Reynolds sat alone in the Avengerz Tower—in his dimly lit room, untouched food on the table, the low hum of a news broadcast playing in the background.

He wasn’t watching.

He was staring at a photo tucked inside a drawer, taken months ago—blurry, taken by accident, but her face was there. Y/N. Her eyes had been laughing, her hand tangled in his hair.

He exhaled shakily, resting his forehead on the frame.

Where are you now, Deathtrap?

He could still feel her fingers clutching his shoulder mid-air, could still hear her soft “thank you” before she vanished into smoke and silence.

In the mirror, his golden eyes flickered dimly.

And for the first time in a long time…

He wished he could forget the weight of saving the world.

Because the one thing he wanted to save had already slipped through his fingers.

Madripoor shimmered under neon haze, glowing like a dangerous promise. The city of shadows buzzed with life—criminals, mercenaries, syndicate leaders, and bounty hunters prowling the streets like wolves. There was no place for flashy entrances or shining gold capes here. That’s why Robert Reynolds, known as The Sentry, walked among them as just… Robert.

He moved silently through the crowded alleyways, head low, hoodie drawn up, eyes scanning the flickering signs of bars and clubs. The mission was simple—find the missing twin orbs. But this was Madripoor. Nothing came easy here.

Inside a dingy bar pulsing with bass and smoke, Robert slid into a seat. The bartender, a man with a scar splitting through his eyebrow, eyed him curiously.

“What’s a pretty boy doin’ in Madripoor?” the bartender asked while wiping a glass.

“Letting things out,” Bob rasped, keeping his tone low and unreadable.

“Never seen you here before.”

“Yeah,” he replied simply, glancing around before leaning in. “I’m looking for something. Twin orbs. Heard they might be here.”

The bartender paused, a flicker of interest in his eyes. “Ah… the orbs. The Avengerz got one, but the rest? You’re sniffin’ in the right city… but the wrong place.”

Before Bob could respond, a heavy slap landed on his shoulder.

“You’re in our seat,” a gruff voice snarled from behind.

Bob turned, meeting the glare of a group of armed men. Calmly, he said, “This seat’s got no name, sir.”

Click—guns cocked. Robert was ready to explode into Sentry form, but Valentina’s orders were clear—stay low. No golden flare-ups. No chaos.

“Y’all act like you own the place,” a smooth, chilling voice cut through the tension.

Everyone turned. There she was. A woman in a tailored white widow suit, lounging against the bar, sipping something dark. Her gaze was sharp. Y/N.

Bob’s heart jumped. He hadn’t seen her since… New York’s last chaos. She looked deadly and divine.

“You think you’re superior, lady?” the leader barked, hurling a knife toward her.

Clink. Y/N caught it mid-air, effortless. “Put the toys down,” she said, placing the blade on the bar. “Let’s do this the manly way. No crutches.”

The men smirked, accepting her challenge.

Combat erupted.

Y/N flowed like wind—graceful and lethal. She twisted, dodging the first strike and elbowing the man in the gut. A kick sent the second reeling into a table. One tried to choke her from behind, but she flipped him over her shoulder and slammed him onto the counter. Precise. Calculated. Brutal.

Within minutes, they were on the floor—groaning, unconscious.

Breathing hard, Y/N turned to Bob and grabbed his arm. “You shouldn’t be here,” she hissed.

“I need the orbs,” Bob said.

A bullet rang out—striking him in the shoulder.

“Dammit!” he growled, clutching the wound. His powers surged, but Y/N held his hand. “No powers. We go now.”

They darted through alleyways, bullets nipping at their heels. Finally, they made it to her hideout—a modest apartment tucked deep in Madripoor’s lower slums. Dim but clean, with maps, weapons, and scribbled notes pinned to walls.

Bob collapsed on the bed as she peeled off his jacket and lifted his shirt, revealing the bleeding wound. He hissed in pain.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t an inch deeper,” she said, dressing the injury with practiced hands. Then she handed him a satchel.

He opened it—the twin orbs.

“I just got them yesterday,” she said softly. “Was going to return them today… until I saw you.”

Bob looked up. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want to do something good,” she said, smiling faintly. “For once.”

“You should sleep,” she added, turning to leave.

“What about you?” he asked, sleep pulling at his eyes.

“I’ll be here.”

Morning came.

Bob winced as he sat up, arm still aching. Y/N gently helped him redress the wound.

“A boat’s leaving. We’ll sneak onboard.”

He nodded.

The boat ride was slow—but Bob wasn’t focused on the sea. He watched her instead. The way she rested her chin on her hand. The distant look in her eyes. She was calm, quiet… and achingly beautiful.

Hours later, as they reached the quiet edges of the U.S. border, Bob clutched the satchel tightly. Before they could part ways, Y/N turned to him.

“Promise me. You won’t tell anyone about me. Not Valentina. Not the team.”

“I promise,” Bob said, eyes full of something he couldn’t yet name.

“…Will I ever see you again?” he asked, almost whispering.

She chuckled. “You can fly, right?”

Then she grabbed a pen and scribbled something on his hand. A location.

“Cresthill Cabin — Blackwood Pines. Off-grid.” A remote forest hideout nestled north of New York.

Bob looked down at the ink. When he glanced up—she was gone.

No sound. No trace.

Just emptiness. And longing.

The wind parted for him like it always did.

Robert Reynolds, now dressed in his gold-and-white Sentry suit, soared high over rooftops, leaving a trail of awe behind him. Kids pointed up from parks and playgrounds, their faces lighting up.

“Look! It’s the Sentry!”

“He’s back!”

“Mom, he’s flying!”

He slowed his speed just slightly, enough to wave back at a cluster of children on a rooftop basketball court. One kid grinned wide, both hands waving over his head. Bob smiled warmly and gave him a thumbs-up mid-flight, making the kid nearly fall over from excitement.

Cameras clicked. Drones followed from a distance. Social media and news outlets buzzed: “Sentry Returns with a Mission Accomplished!” Headlines flashed:

– ‘The Golden Hero Strikes Again’

– ‘Sentry Sighted Over New York – Glorious Re-entry!’

Moments later, he landed gracefully on the platform of the Avengerz Tower, cape fluttering behind him like a banner. The sliding doors opened with a low chime, revealing familiar faces gathered in the command room.

Bucky turned first, a rare grin breaking across his usually stoic face. “Well, look who decided to show up in one piece.”

Yelena stood beside him, arms folded but eyes warm. Ava gave him a smirk and nodded. Even Walker gave him a half-salute.

“Welcome back, Goldilocks,” Alexei bellowed from across the room, walking over with a hearty pat to Bob’s back that nearly sent him forward.

“Didn’t die,” Bob said, a little breathless but smiling. “I call that a win.”

“Where’s the cargo?” Valentina’s crisp voice broke through the welcome. She stood near the meeting table, her eyes sharp, always calculating.

Bob didn’t hesitate. He pulled the satchel from his side and set it gently on the table. Val’s eyes gleamed as she opened it, the glow of the Twin Orbs washing over her face like reflected starlight.

“Intact. No scratches. Nicely done, Robert,” she said, surprisingly soft. “You did exactly what was asked. Nothing more.”

“Of course,” he said, meeting her gaze without flinching.

Everyone relaxed. It was one of those rare, golden moments—a mission finished, a team at ease, and a sense of peace in the room that was usually filled with tension.

Yelena moved closer to Bob, her eyes catching something faint. He didn’t notice—he was talking to Bucky about the flight—but she did.

There, just above his wrist, was faint pen ink.

Handwritten.

Still smudged from travel.

“Cresthill Cabin — Blackwood Pines.”

She said nothing. She didn’t ask. But her smile deepened slightly, as if she already knew what—or who—it was about.

Instead, she handed him a bottle of water and lightly tapped his arm. “You did good. Maybe now, take a breath.”

Bob smiled, that rare peaceful kind, the kind that only surfaced when something inside him was still lingering—something tender and secret, written in ink and memory.

And though the room moved on—banter, celebration, laughter—Bob’s mind quietly traced back to a woman in white, a quiet cabin in the forest, and the last words she left him with:

“You can fly, right?”

[potteraep]

♫- CRAVIN THE ATTENTION OF A BLAZED OUT DRUMMER!

♫- drummer yuta x fem!reader

♫-! Making out, groping, 1st base action yuta asking for consent cuz he’s a gentleman, maybe more deep then just a make out?

♫- yes the band is just special(z) grades..the line up makes no sense but it’s okay, shit writing like deaduzz but I thought of this randomly

♫- if he were asked, he definitely didn’t know how he got here.

your back against the wall breathing heavy as you kissed a certain drummer for a certain band. His hands on your hips as you cupped his cheeks letting out breathy chuckles when a certain sound escaped his lips and whining when he’d bite your lip in retaliation

yuta was a sweetheart, you couldn’t help but smirk a bit when he approached you after the show offering to buy you a drink and asked about the show after a few drinks. His gaze was so sweet, if anyone saw you they’d think you were a couple on a date.

His band mates smirked as they forced him over to you, and he couldn’t help but thank them over and over in his head when after a few drinks he found himself being reeled in like a fish from his collar, your soft fingers gently pulling him forwards towards a restroom giggling he excitedly locked the door, fidgeting with the lock before it clicked as it locked.

He felt wobbly as you guided him to the sink sitting yourself on it as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers twirling around the ends of his hair making him let out a shaky laugh

“ ‘ya sure?” He asked softly looking at you like a little puppy begging to play, he couldn’t help but whine a bit as you nodded with a little smirk, he hoped you didn’t notice how tight his pants were against his crotch. He nodded softly gulping before he leaned in his eyes fluttering shut as he exhaled shakily, his minty warm breathe so close to you

he felt something switch the second you started kissing his eyes widened before they closed and he groaned into your lips, biting a bit and moving a hand to your hip leading a hand under your shirt to put his hand on the skin on your hip leading letting out a breathy chuckle as you squirmed at his cold touch.

he moved his hands up hiding your waist as his big hands, thumb ran over your soft stomach making circles and little hearts, and shapes of.. other stuff. He kissed you like a dog in heat, but his sweet touch still lingered, atleast until he gripped your hips to make you open your mouth a bit more, letting his tongue inside he smiled a bit and leaned in more groaning as you tugged at his hair.

he snapped, he moved his hands to your plush and lifted you up, your lips not parting for a second as he pushed you against the wall, not hard at all but enough to keep you there, one Hand stayed on your ass and the other went to your hip again making a little question mark with his thumb smiling as you nodded

“ your so pretty yknow? Was staring out you the whole- f- hah fucking show” he groaned out parting from your lips running his tongue over his upper lip, his eyes gleamed at the little string of saliva before his mouth went to your neck, and his hands squeezed a bit he smirked against your collar bone as you whined a bit

“ what do you want out of this huh? A cheap lay” he teased his eyes softening a bit as you shook your head he simply bit softly against your neck running his fingers over your stomach to soothe you and write out how well your doing with his soft touch

“ your so pretty..” he said softly his tone so soft as he kissed your neck a last time and his hand left your ass from your short skirt and intertwined with your hand as he smiled bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly

“ a restroom isn’t to romantic don’t you think?” He teased looking over you due to his height as he smirked, but his gaze was tender and caring

“ just say the word and we can stop, but let’s Atleast go back to my place yeah?” He whispered with a little grin his eyes happy and gleaming

he’s got to thank gojo later for the condoms he gave him.

Written by @potteraep, do not translate to another language or post under your own name, thank you!

fanart artist: @ mikusa_i

[ashs-cardboard-box]

An Odd Consolation

~ Sebastian Solace/GN!Reader

~ (Physical) Hurt/(Reluctant) Comfort

~ Platonic

~ 2.3k words

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How long has it been since you’ve gotten a first-aid kit? Five floors? Ten? You were starting to lose track. After an encounter with what felt like Jesus Christ himself punishing you for being an Expendable, your head felt all fuzzy and distracting. Though, realistically, it was Eyefestation paired with a bad crossing from the Good People and a sprinkle of face burns from a steaming pipe. Not fun!

Large gashes paint your chest, just from the claws of the Z-96. The skin on your face felt tight as a result of your painful first degree burns. The worst part about this program was the pain. Sure, you can die and respawn which was cool..you guessed.. but getting mowed down by an angler variant? Or getting electrocuted? Or the puddles of void mass crammed inside the lockers? Torn to shreds by wall dwellers? It all hurt terribly. Only to be cursed to wake up again, with Sebastian right in your face, and do it all over again– Unless you wish to be blown up, of course.

You weren’t even collecting data anymore. Your, now torn, jumpsuit had long been dried since the last flooded path you managed to stumble upon, which further supports your theory that whatever wet warmth is sticking the fabric to your skin, is the blood from your wounds. Clutching your chest in a self-hug of sorts to prevent any more blood from spilling out, albeit unsuccessfully, you force yourself to keep going.

Every time you stop for too long to catch your breath, the intercom chimes overhead, with the same staff voice telling you – threatening you – that you need to move forward, lest you want to be detonated where you stand. So, you push forward.

One wobbly step after the other into door, after door, after flooded hallway, after door. Only stopping to hide in a locker, hide from turrets, or to dive as quickly as you possibly can into another room to hide from any angler that even remotely sounds like Pandemonium.

You were tempted to just give up and open up your vulnerabilities to the next entity that wanted your head on a spike. That was your best option after all. A bit more pain to finally make it all go away for a while? Before you wake up again, that is. A new start..sounded frustrating, but so damn enticing.

However, you’re pulled from your thoughts when a vent is pushed open on its own. The metal grate clatters loudly against the concrete floor right at your feet, followed by a hushed “over here!”. You’d completely forgotten about Sebastian in your misery. The angler-mutant-thing that always managed to find where you died, bring you back to life, and borderline insult you for your performance. You weren’t sure if he was always watching you through the security cameras or if he was getting reports from the other monsters somehow, but you couldn’t care at the moment.

Stealing a quick glance around the dark room, spotting a few Squiddles lingering in the shadows, you’re focused on the two doors in the room, both key-card locked. The first, the navi-path interface sparked, despite the green numbers telling you “027”. You can already guess that Z-96 is behind it and Painter has infected the interface. The second door reads “049”, which makes much more sense to your pain-addled brain. You vaguely remember Sebastian giving a rough estimate to where his shop is located. Somewhere around fifty?

Dropping down onto your knees a bit too roughly, causing blunt pain to your kneecaps – hardly protected by the flimsy knee pads Urbanshade provided – you steal a cautious glance behind you for wall dwellers before crawling towards the vent. One arm supports most of the weight of your front half, as the other cradles your chest wounds. You feel like you can cry out of relief at the flicker of Sebastian’s lure, causing the room to illuminate.

“Welcome back, frien- eugh..” He starts. Comforting, you think sarcastically with a subtle roll of your eyes. Offering him a tightlipped smile as you stand up, gritting your teeth from the strain of your wounds as your muscles struggle to keep you upright. “What..happened to you?” Sebastian inquires, slightly judgemental, with a tilt of his head. His three eyes follow your each and every move. Watching as you silently shuffle across the small space, right towards his tail. Fully locked onto the medkit strapped to the appendage.

Stuffing your hand into the deep pockets of your jumpsuit and pulling out what little amount of data you have. A handful of USB sticks and some soggy files… equivalent to only ninety bucks. God damn it. Your lack of proper data hunting had come to bite you in the ass. With a sigh, you opt to just buy a battery with what little options you actually have. Your flashlight was running a bit low anyways.

Haphazardly tossing a few folders and USB sticks on the floor for Sebastian to pick up, you trudge up to the desk directly to the right of Sebastian. Several DNA casings rest atop it, illuminated by a small lamp, Several different colors for, what you can imagine are, all sorts of different species. The large document that you know belongs to Sebastian practically taunts you to read it, but you shift your gaze back to the batteries. Reaching forward to grab one with a bloodied hand, only to pause when a large, pointed claw pokes you in the shoulder nearly pushing you over. “Are you not gonna fix that?” Sebastian prompts as he tugs his four-clawed hand away from you, clasping it back over his left, watching silently as you fumble, catching yourself on the desk. He tuts at the bloody print left behind as you set your palms flat onto the dull-white surface. “Don’t have enough data..” You grumble tersely, shifting your feet better underneath yourself as your knees threaten to buckle. Snatching the battery off of the corner of the desk, you slip your hand into your pocket and fish out your flashlight. Flipping it over and trying to twist the bottom of it off, struggling only slightly with slippery hands but you manage, sliding the battery into its compartment and twisting the small cap back on. Sebastian is silent, for some reason. Usually, there was some smart ass comment about how he doesn’t give credit or insulting your lack of funds…but there’s nothing. 

His eyes feel like they’re piercing into your soul as he stares down at you. You don’t pay attention to him. He’ll be there..just like always. Tucking your flashlight away, you grab the blue keycard off of the desk and turn back towards the vent with intent to leave Sebastian’s shop. 

That was until you feel two large claws on your upper back as Sebastian grabs ahold of the slack of your torn jumpsuit. Picking you up by the fabric with a humiliating ease, as if you were a kitten being held up by its scruff.

“How stupid are you?” He scolds as he sets you down on his tail. Your boots almost slip against his scales, unused to the uneven surface beneath you, but Sebastian, with an annoyed sigh, grabs you as gently as he can muster, setting you on the ground again inside the inner curve of his tail to prevent your…idiotic…self from dying over some dumb mistake.

“It’s the least you could do..apart from not dying, that is.” Sebastian mutters under his breath, chuckling at his own remark. Using his two left arms, he unfastens the first-aid kit from the straps around his tail, holding it in place. It’s too damn small in his claws, so he hands it off to you. Setting it, rather roughly, in your arms.

Stunned, you hesitate. What was he playing at? He would never give you free stuff. In fact, he would probably shoot you if you even asked. Staring down at the medical kit, jaw slightly agape. Sebastian huffs, plucking the kit from your hands again and flicking off the top with his...thumb? “You idiot…” He grumbles, dumping the contents onto his large palm, handing it down to you. The plastic lid and container tossed aside uselessly. A thick roll of gauze, bandages, skin tape, epinephrine, burn cream, antiseptic wipes..the usual insides. You raise your gaze up to meet Sebastian’s own, much more impatient one. Slowly reaching out and taking the gauze into your hands, grabbing a hold of the loose end and strapping it to your side, pinching it down beneath your fingers to your ribs. Pulling the roll back around your back, switching hands to get the other side, before completely around your chest. It fucking stings..bad. You can feel your blood trying to soak through the fibrous material, subsequently sticking it to your wound. But, you know it’s for the best. Trying to avoid Sebastian’s critical eye as you work, having to pause for a moment due to an ache in your bicep muscles from the repetitive motion. “Why are you helping me?” You question warily. Your voice causes Sebastian’s ear fins to flick every so slightly. Shrugging noncommittally, he sets down the extra materials on his tail in front of you, leaving it up for grabs as you need it.

“You needed it, didn’t you?” Sebastian scrutinized, inspecting the ring on his third hand, so he’s not creepily watching you bandage yourself. “That’s… not what I asked.” You huff, finally getting your chest tissue and ribs covered up. Looking up at Sebastian as he skims the small shop, like he hadn’t seen it before. Not-so-subtly moving his left hand down, using his claw to cut off the spare gauze attached to the roll, allowing you the proper amount you need.

“I know.” He states. “And I don’t care.” You hum suspiciously, but don’t push it. He was helping you out for free, why would you complain? Pinning down the loose gauze strand to your side once again, you use your free hand to finagle the edge of the skin tape, yanking it unceremoniously to grab a bit more slack you can actually use. Silently lifting it up by the edge, letting the roll freely dangle, wordlessly asking Sebastian to cut it as well.

Surprisingly, he complies. Swiping a claw against the tape, freeing it from the roll, causing it to hit the floor at your feet. Awkwardly adjusting the strap to prevent it from sticking to itself, you can pin down your gauze.

“Sit.” Sebastian demands, gingerly tugging on the back of your jumpsuit, causing you to lose balance and tumble backwards, landing right on your ass. It hurts a bit, but the pain quickly subsides. Your back pressed up against his firm tail, tilting your head back to be able to stare up at him. “What?” you question, only to be met with silence. He ignores you completely, but he doesn’t let you get up. Tucking his third hand up underneath your chin, keeping your head tilted up towards him. The coldness of his ring against your skin causes it to prickle with goosebumps, but you don’t mind much. Peering down at your half-burned face, his claw accidentally digs into a blister, causing you to hiss in pain. You didn’t really plan to do anything about the burn, just wanting your bleeding to stop, but Sebastian had other plans. “Sit.” He repeats firmly, as if you were going to get up and scurry off. His second left hand grabs ahold of the small tube of burn cream, puncturing it with ease before spreading a small amount on the length of his claw between the first knuckle and the second. Using the blunt side to massage the cream into your face, all while holding your jaw like an uncooperative pet.

Sitting still, you allow Sebastian to cover your burns. It’s an action neither of you are particularly used to, but neither try to jerk away from the other. With a sigh, you relax against him, closing your eyes. His skin isn’t particularly soft, feeling more like the grit of a cat’s tongue, but he seems to take more caution around it. Sebastian’s not exactly warm either, but he’s comfortable, at least. “Why’re you helpin’ me..?” You mumble, pulling your knees up to your chest to get a bit more cozy against the floor. You can feel your lower back tingling slightly as it begins to go numb, but shifting more will only cause more pain. “Because you lack the self-preservation skills to do it yourself.” Sebastian grunts, more focused on coating your face in petroleum jelly rather than his responses. Removing his hand from your face and draping it over you, making you feel incredibly small. His ear fins fluttering at the sound of an angler screeching as it rushes down the hall, searching for you. You hum monotonously in acknowledgement, subconsciously tensing at the sound, despite knowing it wouldn’t be able to reach you through the vent. “You’re not falling asleep on me. You still have things to do.” He states firmly, but he makes no actual effort to move you away from him. Pleased with the coverage on your face, Sebastian finally pulls his hand away, wiping the remaining residue on your jumpsuit. “‘m not.” You agree, but you know you’re probably lying.

You never really realize how exhausted you are until you’re on the verge of tears from pain alone and forced to keep moving. Kept on edge, stressed to the end of your wits. You knew you should get going. This was weird. Not to mention, Sebastian was usually an asshole..but you don’t move. Readjusting yourself underneath his large hand, acting as a blanket, you curl up into the curve of his tail, resting your head against it.

“Don’t let me get eaten..” You slur in your exhaustion, earning a small hum from Sebastian, not exactly giving you any sort of indication if he would or wouldn’t. Instead, he rests his thumb atop your head, moving it ever-so-slightly back and forth over your hair in a “petting” motion. He would probably charge you double next run, but as you began to fall asleep on him, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. At least you weren’t dead.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hi gang I'm back X3 (he says with the intention to disappear for another decade)

Random fic drop !! I have like. 82 rdr fics open rn </3 procrastination is my best friend

[sleepymarimo]

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝.

summary: stuck between the pirate hunter and sorcerer killer... pairing: roronoa zoro x afab!reader x fushiguro toji cw: mdni, threesome (mfm), vaginal sex, creampie, double stuffin', overstimulation, cock drunk reader an: *gestures vaguely* im drunk ok :( need them both :((( wc: 1.3k

you can't say you remember how you got into this predicament. your brain is scrambled, muscles pliant as you mindlessly whine and pant. you're pounded into from behind, strong hands on your hips and keeping you from being lurched forward.

"yeah, keep fuckin' screamin', babydoll." comes a growl from behind you, utter satisfaction lacing each word. toji smacks your ass with a calloused palm, making you cry out. the sound only makes him chuckle, his eyes glued to the red marks forming on your pretty asscheeks. "see if y'can wake up that swordsman, huh?"

your hazy eyes barely register zoro's sleeping form on the bed, sheets haphazardly bunched up against his lower half. you forget how long ago it was that the green haired samurai pumped his hot cum into your cunt, lazily pushing it back in with his fingers before laying down for a nap like it was the most casual thing in the world.

another smack, smack, smack. three quick slaps to your ass bring your focus back on the raven haired man behind you. "t-toji..." you mumble, pathetic sounding as your cheek pressed to the mattress.

not another second passes before zoro stirs, a groan spilling past his lips as his eye opens up, filled with annoyance. "thought i told ya to keep it down…" he grumbles, though the outline of his hard cock against the sheets tells you he doesn't mind all that much.

toji chuckles, his fingers digging into the fat of your ass and pulling you back on him until you're taking his thick cock all the way down to the hilt. "s'what happens when you fuck her too good." he growls, reveling at at how your cunt twitched around him.

you cry out again, seeing white as tears dotted your lashes. "a-ah! i can't! i can't!" sniffling and hiccuping as you attempt to catch your breath, you can do nothing to keep your limbs from wobbling and falling out from beneath you.

the two men barely pay you any mind, caught up in their own world.

"bullshit." zoro scoffs, sitting up and flinging the sheets off of him. "if y'were fuckin' her right, she wouldn't be yappin' so loud."

strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you away from toji's clutches. the moment of reprieve only lasts for so long, a muffled whine leaving you as zoro positions your feeble form over his hard cock.

he pushes you down on him, splitting you open without a care about how overstimulated you are. his arms wrap around you, one across your shoulders and another over your hips where he holds you flush against his cock.

you sharply inhale and release a choked out moan. "z-zo' wait-!"

there's no warning, no build up before he plants his legs on the mattress and begins ramming into you from below. your cunt squelches embarrassingly loud, your juices dripping down his shaft and onto his thighs.

"fuck, woman." he hisses, his focus unwavering even as your pussy spams around him. "feels good, huh?"

you're too cock drunk to speak properly, your head resting on his chest as you're forced to take what he's giving you. some drool spills past your lips, your eyelids fluttering.

zoro keeps up with his brutal pace, hips snapping into yours as his hands dug into your soft flesh. he clicks his tongue, smug as he looks behind you. "told ya. shut her up real good."

not one to back away from a challenge, toji maintains a cool head, his palm wrapping around the base of his dick as he jerked himself off to how helpless you looked above the swordsman. "fuck off." he climbs on the bed, getting behind you and spreading your ass wide open so he could get a better view of your wet and pulsing cunt.

a quick squeeze, a smack, and then he's positioning the head of his dripping cock at your entrance. "y'gonna take us both babydoll?" he asks, as if you actually had a choice.

still, you frantically nod, babbling yeses and squirming in zoro's hold. when you feel him push into you, your mouth falls open and you sob. "ngh-h! ah!" jolts of pleasure run up your spine and effectively fry your brain, nothing else mattering except the two men before you.

"oh, fuck yes..." toji growls, stuffing his cock in your pretty little cunt alongside zoro's. his hands find purchase on your hips, pushing you further down onto the swordsman as he begins to bless your pussy with short, hard strokes.

zoro holds you tighter as you begin to squirm, a satisfied smirk on his face when he feels your walls pulse. "hah, you like it, don't ya?" he times his thrusts with toji's, his gaze trained on your fucked out face.

you barely register his mocking words and you give a deep groan when a hand roughly smacks your ass, the sound sharp.

toji is kind enough to gently massage your tender flesh, hitting deeper as he leans over you and brings his mouth to your ear. "speak up, babydoll. answer his question. y'too fucked out already?"

he lowers his head, wet tongue licking at the side of your neck before biting down on the vulnerable flesh there. zoro follows suit, lifting his head and roughly bringing his canines down on the other side of your neck.

they work in tandem, like a well oiled machine with the only goal being to push you over the edge.

and you feel it.

fuck, you feel it.

"i-i like it!" you mewl, borderline crying as pressure builds in your navel. your breaths become erratic, their cocks stealing air right out of your lungs. "m'love it!"

smushed between the pirate hunter and sorcerer killer, you're nothing but mush. strong, rough hands are all over you, palming your tits, pinching your nipples and messily rubbing at your clit.

the scent of sweat and sake fill the air, praises and insults whispered in your ears. it all blends together in a lustful, sinful symphony that has you at a loss for words.

your moan echoes throughout the room as you cum on both of their cocks, pussy stuffed so good that it almost hurts. you're gushing around them, your cum dripping from your cunt and soaking the mattress. there's no where for you to go, pinned between these two demons as you cried for mercy.

"fuck, that's it!" zoro snarls, biting down hard on your shoulder and drawing blood. he's quick to lick it up, sucking at the flesh. "so damn tight..."

the glint in toji's eyes is almost predatory, a smirk splitting his face as he revels in your undoing. he licks a stripe on the nape of your neck, his tone coy. "good fucking girl, takin' two cocks like a little slut."

they both cum, your pussy painted white and getting filled to the brim. sweat coats your skin, their hot release getting pushed further into you as they continue to rut against you. your muscles twitch, spent and utterly useless.

their thrusts are shallow, but purposeful. it's a silent competition of who can get their cum deeper into your cunt.

when they finally do relent, pulling out of you with a wet 'pop', you're already halfway into dreamland.

their hands are on you again, kneading your sore flesh and treating you as if you were made of glass.

zoro's tongue swipes across the angry bite marks on your shoulder, his hands massaging your thighs. toji mumbles lewd, affectionate praises against your temple, caressing your reddened asscheeks and groping your tits.

your eyelids are already closing when you hear snippets of their conversation, knowing you'd be in for it when you woke up.

"oi, i wanna get her from behind next time." the swordsman grumbles, gripping your thigh possessively.

toji scoffs and wraps an arm around your waist, tucking your back into his chest and earning a growl from zoro. "fuck off. first come, first serve."

[httpsserene]

httpsserene’s table of contents | page two

key: fluff ♡ | angst ♢ | crack ♧ | smut ♤ | suggestive ✢ | male!reader ♔ | series ➜ | author's fave ✦ | driver lineup (who i write for) | REQUESTS CLOSED.

the driver lineup R -> Z

#3 RICCIARDO, DANIEL.

♤ the daniel ricciardo edition [oneshots] | it's his one-man show. you ask for danny ric, and he will always over-deliver.

♤ mouth like liquor [oneshot] | driver, roll up the partition, please.

✦➜♤ f1 kinktober 2023 [oneshot] | overstimulation kink (with #1 verstappen, max).

#63 RUSSELL, GEORGE.

✦♤ rock the boat [drabble] | a salt-bathed, sun-drenched, yacht trip seduces you into slow and sensual sex underneath the sunbeams.

➜♤ f1 kinktober 2023 [oneshot] | vampire & biting kink.

#55 SAINZ JR, CARLOS.

✦➜♤ f1 kinktober 2023 [oneshot] | were-shifter & predator/prey kink.

➜♡♢♤ sip of sunshine [fanfic] | as a cart girl, you’ve never been intrigued by any of the men you serve on the green. by complete chance, you meet carlos and lando—they monopolize your summers for the unforeseeable future (with #4 norris, lando).

♡ haute couture [smau] | from photo shoots to spontaneous vacation changes; carlos loves you loudly.

#2 SARGEANT, LOGAN.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ·˚ these books are still being printed !

#47 SCHUMACHER, MICK.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ·˚ these books are still being printed !

#18 STROLL, LANCE.

✦➜♡♢ error 404: plot not found [smau series] | gaming & lifestyle youtuber!reader has been searching for her meet-cute romance. has she finally found it at the ski-resort?

#22 TSUNODA, YUKI.

✦♡ why don't we go there [mixed] | yuki's private tours include exclusive features, just for you.

➜♤ f1 kinktober 2023 [oneshot] | frottage & abs kink.

#1 VERSTAPPEN, MAX.

♔♡♢ i care [oneshot] | max comes to a realization about his father. you support him through the fallout.

✦♡ virtual racing bootcamp [mixed] | you start showing interest in sim racing. max's only option is to turn you into the best virtual-racer there ever was--well besides himself, of course.

♤ K.O. ! [oneshot] | Max (the man unable to not have the last word) coerces her into giving Daniel a taste of his own medicine.  As soon as they can manage to walk on two feet, without a wobble. Mark their fucking words. 

✦➜♤ f1 kinktober 2023 [oneshot] | corruption & orgasm denial kinks (with #16 leclerc, charles). / overstimulation kink (with #3 ricciardo, daniel).

✦➜♤ 1k special — track limits [fanfic] | max and charles don’t mind receiving a five-second penalty for slipping past your boundaries. seeing a black and white flag doesn’t scare them in the slightest; not when you're performing so well under their guidance (with #16 leclerc, charles).

✦♡ your honor, he's a simp [smau] | an unplanned hard launch reveals more than a relationship. it exposes the biggest simp of the century.

WOLFF, TOTO.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ·˚ requests for wolff, toto — are no longer being accepted !

♤ toasty [oneshot] | you make toto his favorite bread. he’s going to thank you for this surprise properly.

♤ a bun in the oven [oneshot] | part two of toasty.

♡✢ cabin getaway [blurbs] | snapshots of your post-season getaway with toto.

THE GRID

✦♤ DNF therapy [blurbs] | what goes down in their driver's room with you after a dnf. (#1, #4, #16, #44, #55, #81)

PLATONIC!READER

♡ girls just wanna f1 [smau] | you make hit songs when you’re not driving a formula one car. your fellow drivers love to feature in your music videos.

back | 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝐀 -> 𝐏)

© httpsserene - photos from pinterest. do not reupload.

[fiddles-ifs]

BLOG UPDATE 10-30-24

[ID: A photoset of three images. The first two images are a parchment texture on a black background. The first image is white text, and a navigation sidebar to the left of the main body of text. The sidebar reads: 'THE KING'S PHYSICIAN, written by Elliot Z. Chapter 00: Asclepius. NEW GAME, LOAD GAME, SETTINGS, GLOSSARY, MAP, CHARACTERS, ACHIEVEMENTS.' NEW GAME is highlighted with a distressed scroll image. At the bottom of the sidebar are links leading to Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram.

To the right of the sidebar, the main text reads: 'PROLOGUE: ASCLEPIUS.

The ground stinks. It meets your hands in a shower of wet mud, an explosion of sick and blood, soaking the spaces between your fingers. When your vision focuses again, finally stops wobbling around and making double of itself, you find your palms soaked red. You crawl on your hands and knees to the body in front of you. You turn them over on their back. A man, not one of yours, and you slap his face a few times before you realize his eyes are milky and staring ahead, unblinking. There’s nothing you could do for him now. You look at his legs and find them still facing downwards. They didn’t move with the rest of him.

All the information comes to you backwards — his bisected waist, the guts spilling across the dirt, red, red and so much red. You stand up numbly. Your horse lies dead several feet away, and you remember in your haze that’s the reason why you were bucked off. You try and look at something — anything — else.

There is nothing else. All around you are limbs and blood and battle. Everything moving so slowly, mosquitoes caught in cooling amber, a slurry of death. You feel lost, a scarecrow in a burning field. Your ears ring. It all feels distant. Too distant. You need to move.

You turn to see a flash of white steel against the burning sun, and weakly raise your arms to try and block the blow with what little padding you have on. You move so slow.'

The other images feature the same text. The second image features a black background and red links. The third image is yellow parchment paper with red links and black text. /end ID]

happy update day!! i have to be up in. checks watch. six hours. so the update is coming at exactly midnight, and then i'll queue appropriately. but steady progress is being made on tkp!! im taking a small break from greenwarden to focus on making tkp and erinys look nice as a side project to querying agents for my book. it's a process. yk how it is.

what you see right now are mockups, the actual product looks uh. well. it looks like this

far cry from how i want it to look, but im working on it.

after finishing the css, all i have to do is write and edit chapter 1 and it'll be ready for demo release!

also, happy spooky season! im working on something for greenwarden that most certainly will not be done by Halloween, but i think you'll like it. it involves costumes and maybe stickers. watch this space

[mjonthetrack]

real

Chapter Fifty: “Ain’t Nothing Soft About Me, Ma”

The bedroom was dim again, early morning creeping in through the closed blinds. Jey sat on the edge of the bed, one arm stretched behind Samara’s back to brace her as she leaned into him, groaning low in her throat.

“Here,” he muttered, holding the pain meds out to her with a water bottle already cracked open in his other hand.

Samara took the pills slowly, eyeing them like they were poison before finally sighing and popping 'em in her mouth. She gulped down a few sips, wiped her lips with the back of her hand, and then squinted up at him through messy lashes.

“You ain’t called me that in years,” she mumbled, voice scratchy but teasing. Her tongue peeked out to wet her bottom lip.

Jey smirked but didn’t look away, still cradling her weight so she didn’t lean on her bad shoulder.

“Called you what?”

She raised a brow, clearly not about to let him dodge.

“Ma.”

The corner of his mouth tugged higher. “Ain’t like it stopped bein’ true.”

She scoffed through a breathy laugh, shifting slow to get more comfortable. “Don’t tell me my baby daddy gettin’ soft.”

Jey chuckled low, shaking his head. “Ain’t nothin’ soft about me, Samara,” he murmured, leaning in close, his lips ghosting over her ear. “But I am tired of actin’ like you ain’t mine. That part? Dead.”

Her heart did a little somersault in her chest, but she played it cool. Always.

“That so?”

He nodded once, firm. “That been so. But I was stupid, and you were stubborn… and now we both bleeding over shit we never fixed.”

She looked at him long and hard, no cap in her eyes. Just bruised vulnerability and the flicker of something old and real rising back up.

“You think I don’t want this?” she said quietly. “You think I ran to you at that park ‘cause I was scared of him? Nah, Jey—I ran to you ‘cause you the only person I ever felt safe with, even when you pissed me the fuck off.”

That hit him right in the ribs.

His jaw tightened as he brushed a curl off her forehead, fingers lingering at her temple.

“You still safe with me,” he promised. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, Samara. Not again.”

She tilted her head back just slightly, pain meds starting to settle in, her body getting heavier in his arms again. But her eyes stayed on his.

“I ain’t ever need soft, Jey. I just needed you.”

He kissed her forehead without a word, tucked her back down in the bed, slid in beside her and held her like she was all he had.

And for once… she let him.

Chapter Fifty-One: “Your World, Your Son”

The house smelled like eggs, bacon, and slightly burnt toast—aka love in its purest, most chaotic form.

Sunlight filtered in soft through the windows now, gold spilling across the floors as the little family remained curled in the center of Jey’s king-sized bed, tangled in blankets and healing silence.

Until—

“WAKE UUUUUPPP!”

Zion’s voice cracked through the room like a ray of sunshine on Red Bull, followed by a loud clatter and a heavy thump as he kicked the bedroom door all the way open, arms full with a breakfast tray and the proudest damn smile on his little face.

Jey blinked, groaning low as he stretched, shirtless and groggy. Samara shifted beside him, one leg flopped over his and her hand instinctively reaching for her sore shoulder.

But Zion? Unbothered. Grinning like he just won the lottery.

“I made breakfast! Like for real. I even cut the toast into lil hearts,” he added with a bashful shrug, cheeks flushed.

Samara propped herself up, groggy but wide-eyed, brows knitting together. “Z, baby… you did all this?”

He nodded hard. “Yep! First time we all been in the same place like this since I was six, so I figured…” He shrugged again, nervous all of a sudden. “I just… wanted it to feel like somethin’. Like family.”

Jey sat up slower now, his throat tightening, eyes flicking to Samara’s. Her lip wobbled for a second, and she reached for her baby boy, letting him crawl on the bed and kiss her cheek gently.

He turned and kissed his dad’s arm too, almost shyly.

“I ain’t wanna wake y’all up too early, but I made a plate for everybody,” he added, his voice muffled against Samara’s curls.

And that’s when she said it.

Calm. Clear. With love but no softness.

“I think you, Jimmy, and Sefa need to take him out today.”

Jey stiffened slightly, meeting her gaze.

She continued, “It’s gotten too messy… and way too deadly to keep him in the dark. You see how smart he is, how he feels everything around him. He’s not a little boy anymore, Jey.”

Zion looked between them now, confused.

Samara brushed a curl from Zion’s forehead and kissed him again before murmuring low, so only Jey could really feel the weight behind it.

“This your world. And if y’all don’t tell him the truth… he’s gonna find out the wrong way.”

Jey’s throat worked around emotion he wasn’t used to letting show. Not even for his brothers.

But she was right.

He looked down at his son—his mirror, his shadow, his legacy.

Yeah… it was time.

Chapter Fifty-Two (Alternate Take): “What You Chose” Still from Jey’s POV.

Jey was already feelin’ tight in his chest when they pulled up to the old lot. The kind of place they used to handle business back in the day, now just a shell for truth to echo off broken walls and tired hearts.

Zion was quiet behind him. Not the usual distracted, humming-to-himself kinda quiet, but heavy silence—the kind Jey remembered from when his pops used to fight with his mom. It was silence that said, I’m listening, even if I don’t want to.

They all got out.

Sefa leaned against the hood. Jimmy hung back, eyes low.

And Jey crouched down a little, on eye level with his son, sitting on the beat-up bench under a crooked-ass tree.

He started soft. Gentle. Like if he raised his voice, the truth might come out louder than he meant.

“Z… this talk? It ain’t easy. But it’s gotta happen.”

Zion just looked at him, eyes already glossy, nose twitchin’ like he was tryna stay cool.

“I been protectin’ you the only way I knew how. But I made choices—ones that came with enemies and dirt. Some of that dirt got on your mama. That’s on me.”

Zion’s lip quivered.

Jey saw it.

“And I didn’t want you caught in this life. That’s why I ain’t let you all the way in. But it ain’t work. And now, I can’t keep lying. You in it, even if you don’t wanna be.”

Zion blinked real fast and then—BOOM. That crack in his voice busted wide open.

“You were supposed to protect us!”

The sound sliced through Jey’s gut like a blade.

“You chose this? This gang, these people, this… life—over me? That’s why you wasn’t around? Why momma always said ‘don’t ask’? Why she cried some nights when she thought I ain’t hear?”

Sefa dropped his head.

Jimmy turned around and walked a few steps away.

Zion’s voice broke again, tears spillin’ fast and hot.

“She almost died, Daddy! She’s in pain right now ‘cause of you! That man took her ‘cause of your choices!” he screamed, shoving Jey in the chest. “You ain’t protect her. You ain’t protect me.”

Jey didn’t stop him.

Didn’t even flinch.

Because that pain? He deserved to feel it.

And Zion wasn’t done.

“I used to wait for you. Every birthday, every holiday, I used to tell people ‘my dad comin’, he just busy.’” His fists clenched. “You wasn’t busy. You just chose something else.”

And with that?

Zion turned.

And ran.

Full speed.

Just like his mama did when she was scared—but this time? It wasn’t fear in his feet. It was rage, confusion, heartbreak, all twistin’ up into something no child should carry.

“Z!” Jey called, voice crackin’. “ZION!!”

But that boy didn’t look back.

He disappeared down the path, limbs flailin’, breath hitchin’.

Sefa stepped forward, voice low. “You want me to—”

Jey shook his head, eyes locked on the space his son left behind.

“Nah,” he said, hoarse. “Let him go. He gotta let it out.”

Jimmy walked back up, clapped a hand on Jey’s shoulder.

Jey didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe right.

Just sat back down on that bench, elbows on his knees, and wiped the wetness from under his eyes with the back of his tattooed hand.

That wasn’t how he wanted it to go.

But maybe that’s how it had to go.

'Cause Zion didn’t need no fairytales.

He needed the truth—even if it broke both they hearts.

Chapter Fifty-Three: “My Daddy Ain’t My Hero No More”

The bell over the salon door jingled. Normally? That meant a walk-in or a delivery. But the way it flew open? The way the wind slapped through like something was wrong? Jenny looked up from shaping a regular’s coffin tips with her brows already pulling tight.

“Zion?” she blinked, standing up slow, realizing he was alone.

His little chest was rising fast, face blotchy, curls wild like he’d been running. And before she could even ask — he ran at her. Full speed. Like she was the only solid thing left in his crumbling world.

“Ay Dios mío—Zionito!” she gasped, barely catching him as he crashed into her waist.

He clung to her, shaking like a leaf, sobbing into her apron, his small hands balled into the sides of her waist.

“H-he—my daddy…” Zion’s voice cracked, broken open like glass under a tire. “My daddy ain’t my hero no more…”

Jenny’s heart plummeted.

“Ay, baby—no no no—que pasó? Qué pasó?” she whispered, sinking to her knees right there in the middle of the damn salon, ignoring her client, ignoring everything else. Her hands went to his face, wiping at tears, cradling his jaw.

Zion just sobbed.

Not the spoiled-brat cry. Not the dramatic one.

This was the gutted kind. The cry that comes from your soul when the foundation you believed in crumbles and all you can do is scream inside.

“I thought he was—he was s’posed to be the good guy! He said he lied! He—he got momma hurt! She could’ve died!And all this time, he was doin’ this bad shit and not tellin’ me—why?!” Zion sobbed harder, hiccuping through his words, hands balled into fists against his own chest now. “Was I not good enough to tell the truth to?! Did I not deserve to know?!”

Jenny hugged him tight, rocking with him, whispering softly in Spanish, tears pricking her own lashes.

“No, baby. No, mi amor, it ain't about you. Don’t you ever think that. Adults? We fuck up. We lie thinkin’ it’s protection. But that don’t make it right.”

Zion trembled, his voice barely a whisper now.

“I just wanted him to be the hero I thought he was.”

Jenny swallowed hard, smoothing her palm over the back of his curls.

“He still can be, Zionito. But sometimes heroes gotta earn that cape back.”

She kissed the top of his head.

“You don’t gotta forgive him today. Not tomorrow. But your pain? It’s real. And you ain’t alone in it, okay?”

He nodded weakly, curling tighter into her.

Jenny looked up, locking eyes with the other girls in the shop — the regulars, the techs — all frozen. Some had tears, others covered their mouths. They felt that moment. That heartbreak.

And none of them said a word.

Because that boy wasn’t just Jey Fatu’s son in that moment.

He was everybody’s baby.

Chapter Fifty-Four: "Don't Touch Me, Joshua"

The matte black Escalade pulled up outside the shop hard. Tires crunched the curb, engine still running as the doors swung open damn near in sync. Jey was out first, jaw tight, eyes wild with worry beneath his gold frames. Sefa right behind him, face sharp, and Jimmy had that still-simmering fury in his shoulders like he’d shoot first and talk never.

Jenny was already outside, arms crossed over her chest, not moving an inch when they approached.

“He’s inside,” she said, nodding toward the shop’s back room. “But y’all need to check your tone and your egos before you walk in there—he’s hurt. Bad. Don’t make it worse.”

Jey didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His pulse was in his ears and his heart was in his throat. That was his baby. His only baby. And Jenny texting Sefa that Zion was at the shop crying about his daddy being a fraud? Yeah. That shit shattered something in him.

Inside the shop, everything was dead quiet—like the kind of quiet after lightning, when the air itself holds its breath.

Zion was standing by one of the dryers, his back turned. Hoodie on. Hands balled in the pockets. But when the door creaked open behind him, he stiffened.

Jey stepped forward slow, his voice rough.

“Zion…”

The boy turned. Slowly. Chin tilted up, eyes gleaming with unshed tears—but no crying now. Nah. Not anymore.

Now? It was anger.

Defiance.

Zion gritted his teeth, chest puffed slightly, trying to hold the tears back. And the moment Jey stepped closer—hands up, gentle like he was approaching a wild animal—Zion snapped.

“Don’t touch me, bruh!”

That stopped Jey cold.

Zion’s voice cracked but his words didn’t waver.

“I said don’t touch me, Joshua!”

That name? That government-ass name from his son?

Felt like getting slapped with a cinder block.

Sefa winced. Jimmy flinched. Even Jenny leaned against the doorframe, hand over her mouth like damn.

Jey’s throat worked hard. “Zion, son, I—”

“You lied!” Zion cut him off, tears finally spilling now. “You said you was protecting me! You said you had it handled, but she almost died! She almost died and I had to see her like that and you were gone!”

“Z—”

“You were gone, bruh! Off doing what? Shooting people? Selling stuff? Lying to your kid? Putting us in danger?”

Zion shoved past him with a shoulder bump that felt more like a slap to the soul.

And as he passed his uncles, he threw a glare sharp enough to bleed.

“I’ll find my own way back,” he spat. “Since I can’t rely on none of y’all no more.”

The door slammed behind him.

Leaving nothing but a gaping silence in his wake.

Jenny looked at Jey and whispered, “You gon’ chase after him?”

But Jey just stood there.

Still.

Crushed.

Looking at the door like his whole world had just walked out behind it.

Chapter Fifty-Five: “¿Y Ahora Qué, Papa?”

Jenny watched the door slam, the echo hanging in the shop like smoke after gunfire.

The room was dead silent.

Jey hadn’t moved.

Jimmy looked at the floor, jaw tight. Sefa rubbed his palm over his braid, cussing low in Samoan under his breath. But Jenny? She didn’t flinch. She walked right up to Jey—slow and steady—her chipped nail glinting under the salon lights.

“¿Y ahora qué, papa?” she said quietly, head tilted. Now what, daddy?

He blinked down at her, eyes bloodshot, jaw locked like if he opened his mouth, something raw might come out.

Jenny didn’t wait.

“You gon’ stand there and mope while your son out there hurt? Or you gon’ grow a pair and go be his daddy?”

Jey still ain’t say nothing.

So she stepped closer, jabbing him in the chest with her middle finger.

“He didn’t say all that ‘cause he hates you,” she said, voice rising. “He said it ‘cause he loves you. He scared. He don’t understand this life. You told him y’all was solid and then all this crazy shit started happening—his mama damn near died, and he saw it. He had to run from it. And now he think everything he knew was a lie.”

Jey’s chest rose hard like he was fighting tears but couldn’t let ‘em win.

Jenny’s voice dropped again, softer now.

“You think he hate you? Nah. He’s hurt. And if you don’t go fix it? If you don’t talk to him with your whole heart—not that fake kingpin voice, but that daddy voice? You might really lose him. For good.”

Sefa was watching, arms crossed. Jimmy looked up then, nodding.

“She right, bro,” Jimmy said low. “He your mirror. You don’t fix this now… it’s gon’ be harder later.”

Jenny sighed, stepping back, eyes shining but her face set.

“Go find your son, Joshua.”

She smirked a little despite herself.

“Before I do.”

And with that? She left him standing there—three grown men suddenly feeling small as hell—and walked to the back to get the broom.

Because she knew Jey would go.

She knew it.

Because no matter what mask he wore in the streets?

To that little boy?

He was still daddy.

Chapter Fifty-Six: "The Bench at Woodhill"

It was late afternoon, sun leaning low in the sky, casting golden streaks across the basketball courts and worn-out jungle gym. Jey spotted him instantly—Zion, all by himself, sitting hunched on that same beat-up park bench Jey used to post on as a teen.

His boy looked smaller than usual.

Not physically. But in that spirit way. Like the world had sat on his chest and told him to deal with it.

Zion was wiping at his eyes, sniffling, trying so hard to act like he wasn’t just breaking on the inside. Jey’s throat tightened. His steps slowed.

“Z…” he said gently, just once.

Zion stiffened.

Didn’t even look at him when he spoke.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone?” he bit out, voice trembling.

Jey winced, but kept his tone steady. “You did.”

Zion finally turned, jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. His eyes were red-rimmed, cheeks blotchy. “You good for that, ain’t you?” he hissed. “Leaving. Same with mama too.”

Jey stepped closer but stayed a respectful distance, arms at his sides.

“I ain’t gonna lie to you no more, Zion,” he said low. “I ain’t been perfect. I ain’t even been good half the time. But I ain’t ever left you, not in my heart. Not one day.”

Zion laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You wasn’t there. You was always off somewhere else. Handling ‘business.’” He spit that last word like poison. “While I was watchin’ mama cry on the bathroom floor, or pretend like she wasn’t scared when some random dude pulled up too close to the shop. While you was out doin’ all that, we was still right here, waiting for you to stop choosin’ that life over us.”

Jey flinched. That boy had inherited his fire and his honesty. It hit deep.

“I never wanted to choose it over y’all,” Jey admitted. “But I ain’t know how to protect you in a world like this unless I stood on top of it.”

Zion finally looked at him full-on, eyes glossy. “But I didn’t need you to be no kingpin, Daddy.”

That word stopped Jey cold.

“I just needed my dad. The one who used to watch cartoons with me and get mad when mama braided my hair too tight.”

Jey’s breath caught.

Zion stood up now, face scrunched with fresh tears but his voice clear.

“You was my hero. But now? I don’t even know who you are.”

Jey swallowed hard, his hands balling into fists at his sides—not from anger, but from how helpless he felt.

He took a slow step closer.

“You still got your hero,” he said, voice gravelly. “But he had to grow up. Just like you. This world? It chews people up. I was tryin’ to build something y’all could be safe in—but I see now… safety ain’t walls and crews and power.”

He looked his son dead in the eye.

“It’s showin’ up. Every time. No matter what.”

Zion didn’t move. Just stared at him, breathing hard.

And Jey did something he didn’t do often.

He dropped to his knees right there on that cracked concrete.

“I’m sorry I let you down, son.”

Zion’s chin wobbled, his face breaking.

“I’m sorry I let her down too.”

Zion blinked fast, looked away, then looked back—torn, raw, hurting.

“I’m scared,” he whispered.

Jey nodded, eyes glassy. “Me too. But we get through it together now. You and me. And your mama. Ain’t no more secrets.”

A beat.

Then Zion took a shaky step forward.

And launched himself into his father’s arms.

Jey caught him, strong arms wrapping tight around the only thing that ever made him feel whole.

Chapter Fifty-Seven: "You Should’ve Chosen Me"

Zion hadn’t let go yet.

His little fists were gripping the back of Jey’s shirt like he was afraid he’d disappear if he didn’t hold on tight. But Jey felt the moment coming—the shift in the way his son’s breathing changed, how his body trembled harder.

Then the dam broke.

“I hate this…” Zion sobbed into his chest, voice cracking with every word. “Why couldn’t you just choose me, huh?!”

Jey froze.

“I was your son, man! I’m your kid—why’d I have to grow up half together my whole damn life?!”

Jey couldn’t breathe.

Zion pushed back enough to look at him, face streaked with tears, lips trembling in pain and betrayal.

“Why mama gotta get hurt?! Why she always gotta be scared? Why it’s always me who gotta watch it all happen and act like it’s normal?!”

Jey’s throat closed up, and his vision blurred as Zion kept going, voice rising.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you was never around when I was little? All them times you popped in with gifts, money, a hug and a smile, then disappeared for a week or two—or three? I asked mama where you was and you know what she said?”

Zion’s chest rose fast, shoulders tense.

“She used to say ‘he busy,’ or ‘he out handling stuff.’” He shook his head, teeth clenched. “But she knew. I ain’t dumb.”

Jey’s jaw was tight now, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t dare. Not yet.

Zion wiped at his eyes harshly, face scrunched in fury and heartache.

“I get it now. Them women, the streets, the money… all that came first. She came last. No wonder mama was always cold with you. No wonder she ain’t wanna talk about you, why she got that bitter laugh whenever I asked about y’all back in the day.”

Jey’s heart cracked in a thousand places.

Zion kept going, pushing the words out like he’d been holding ‘em hostage too long.

“You was out there being a hoe, right? Thought I ain’t know? Thought I ain’t hear mama crying after she heard something or somebody called your phone too late at night when I was just supposed to be sleep?”

He sniffed hard, stepping back.

“You ain’t give a damn about mama, and now all of us payin’ the price for it. She damn near died, Pops. And I was there. I saw her bleed. I ran for help.”

His voice cracked again, hands shaking.

“So nah, I ain’t tryna hear ‘sorry’ right now. You can’t fix this with some hug. This ain’t no scraped knee and I ain’t a baby no more.”

Jey didn’t speak for a second. Just let the silence wrap around them, heavy.

Then finally… he nodded.

“You right.”

Zion blinked.

“You’re right,” Jey repeated, chest heaving. “Everything you said. Every bit of it. You are my son, and I should’ve made you and your mama my only priority from the jump. And I didn’t. I fucked up. I failed you.”

Zion’s lips trembled again, the anger flickering behind the tears.

Jey stepped forward slowly, not touching him yet, just making sure his son was looking at him dead in the eyes.

“I was out there trying to build an empire and didn’t realize my kingdom was already at home. And I let it break. I broke her. I broke you. But I swear on everything, Zion Omari Fatu…” His voice dipped low and heavy, soaked in sincerity. “You ain’t never gonna wonder again if I chose you. From this day forward, it’s you. You and your mama. Nothing comes before that. Nothing.”

Zion was breathing heavy, tears still streaming.

“But I know I don’t get your trust back just by saying it,” Jey added. “So I’ma show you. Every single day. I’ma earnbeing your hero again.”

Zion didn’t answer.

He just looked at his father, heart torn between love and fury and grief.

Then he turned around and sat back down on the bench—silent.

Didn’t run.

Didn’t yell.

Just sat.

Jey followed.

Sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder, no words.

Just a father finally being still.

Finally being there.

Chapter Fifty-Eight: "It Could’ve Been Worse"

The park was dead quiet.

Zion sat hunched forward, his arms propped on his knees, head down, kicking at gravel with his shoe. Jey hadn’t said another word since he promised to earn his place back. And Zion hadn’t moved from that bench.

But Jey sat right there next to him.

He could’ve left. Could’ve stormed off like he used to when the weight got too real. But this time? Nah. He sat with his shame. Let it marinate. Let it humble him.

And then… it hit.

She could’ve taken this from me.

He glanced sideways at his son—his baby, his pride, his mirror—and the words played again in his head like a loop: "You were supposed to protect us!" "You chose this over me!"

And damn if those weren’t true.

But the truth that cracked Jey wide open… was that Samara didn’t say those words to Zion herself. She never sat their son down to poison his heart against him. She had every right. She’d had plenty of chances.

All the nights Jey ain’t come home.

All the whispers in the streets.

All the women who tried it and the fights that followed.

All the heartbreak she swallowed and still showed up for their son with breakfast on the stove and love in her touch.

She could’ve ruined him in Zion’s eyes.

She could’ve told him everything. Every ugly detail. Every missed birthday, every lie, every hurt.

But she didn’t.

She waited. She let me be the one to tell him the truth…

And as much as that truth crushed Jey’s spirit, the fact that he said it? That he got to look his son in the eye and own his sins—that was a gift she gave him. One he didn’t even realize he needed.

Jey dragged a hand down his face and let out a long breath, the kind that came with years of weight finally landing on his chest.

“Damn, Ma…” he muttered under his breath, thinking of her.

He could see her in his head so clearly—hair wrapped up, earrings off, that permanent side-eye ready at all times. The way she squared up to the world every day like it was tryna take something from her.

She protected Zion’s innocence way longer than she had to.

She gave Jey a second chance at being a father on his own terms—even when he didn’t deserve it.

And now that Zion knew?

Jey finally understood the cost of all that silence.

She didn’t just carry her own hurt… she carried his, too. For years.

And she never threw it in his face.

That realization made his eyes burn, but he didn’t let the tears fall. Not here. Not in front of his baby who needed him to be sturdy again.

So instead, he spoke.

Low and slow.

“Your mama tougher than any man I ever met.”

Zion looked at him, blinking through the last of his tears.

Jey nodded, eyes on the distance.

“She been protecting you from the kind of man I used to be for a long time. She let you think I was better than I really was. ‘Cause she ain’t want you hurtin’. Not by me.”

Zion sniffed hard and looked down again, a little quieter now.

“She could’ve told you everything. Could’ve made you hate me years ago,” Jey continued, voice raw. “But she didn’t. She waited. She let me tell you, even if it broke both our hearts.”

Zion didn’t speak, but his eyes were wide—processing. Feeling. Sitting with it.

Jey leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“She gave me that grace, Z. And I ain’t deserve it. But I swear to God, I’m grateful.”

He turned to his son, voice barely above a whisper.

“And I’m grateful to you too. For not walkin’ away. For letting me sit next to you right now. I know you don’t forgive me. And you don’t gotta. Not today.”

Zion nodded slowly, chewing on his bottom lip, his chest still tight.

“I just wanna understand,” he said softly. “I don’t know what any of this means. It’s all so much, Pops…”

“I know,” Jey murmured, putting a steady hand on Zion’s back. “But we gon’ figure it out. Together.”

Zion didn’t say anything back.

But he didn’t move away either.

And for now?

That was enough.

Chapter Fifty-Nine: “It Ain’t Fair”

They were walking back toward the truck now, slow and quiet.

The sun was starting to dip, casting long shadows over the park’s cracked pavement. Jey had one hand in his pocket, the other twitching like it wanted to reach out again but was scared to push.

Zion’s voice broke the silence. Low. Heavy.

“I hate it.”

Jey looked over.

Zion’s eyes were locked on the sidewalk in front of him, scuffing the toe of his sneaker with every other step.

“I hate always seeing her with dudes that don’t deserve her,” he mumbled. “I hate acting like I’m big enough to be the man of the house. I hate pretending like I don’t care when she cry in the bathroom and think I can’t hear it.”

Jey’s heart squeezed so tight it almost made him stumble.

Zion kept going. Words bubbling up like they’d been locked up for years.

“I hate watching cornballs flirt with her at the shop. Hate how she smiles like she actually likes ‘em when I know she don’t. I hate how they look at her like she easy when she done broke her back to take care of us.”

He kicked a loose rock into the grass.

“I hate having to protect her when that shoulda been you.”

Jey’s breath caught.

Zion’s jaw clenched. His fists, too. But he didn’t look angry—he looked tired. Tired in that grown-up way kids should never have to be.

“It ain’t fair,” he muttered, wiping at his eye quick with the back of his hand like it ain’t happen. “Why Uncle Jimmy got Auntie Trinity to stay? Why their kids get to eat dinner together every night? Why his daughter don’t gotta sleep with a bat under her bed just in case?”

Jey stopped walking. Zion did too, standing right there on the sidewalk under that flickering streetlamp like something out a memory.

And the words finally found Jey’s throat, low and hoarse.

“Because I fucked up.”

Zion looked up, startled by how honest his dad sounded.

Jey’s voice cracked when he kept going.

“Because I thought I had time. Thought I could fix everything later. But I missed out on shit I can’t get back. And while I was out here acting like the streets owed me something... your mama was holding it down all by herself.”

He paused.

“And you? You’ve been carrying too much on them little shoulders since you were nine. I know it. I see it.”

Zion swallowed hard.

“I didn’t want you to be the man of the house,” Jey said quietly. “That was never your job. That was always supposed to be mine.”

Zion blinked up at him, and Jey finally reached out—this time, Zion didn’t flinch.

He rested a hand on the back of his son’s neck, pulling him in slow and careful. Not forcing it, but offering it.

“I don’t got all the answers, Z. But I know one thing—your mama’s never gonna settle again. Not if I got breath in my chest. And neither are you.”

Zion’s eyes welled up again, but this time, he didn’t look away.

“Promise?” he whispered.

Jey nodded once.

“On everything.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Zion leaned into his father’s side. Not just out of hurt, but out of hope.

They stood there in the quiet.

Two generations of hurt trying to rebuild something from the ground up.