#|| if this doesn't work please let me know!

[d-emeter]

Breakfast, lunch and dinner (or: cod characters and how they eat you out) — plus-size!fem!reader x cod characters

Includes: Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, König, Graves, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria

Note: take this as my formal apology for being inactive for so long :') exam week had me hanging on by a thread and i'm also suddenly moving so. yay. expect some more action after like... this week i hope

John Price

Listen. Getting eaten out by Captain Price is not, in any way, meant for your pleasure. No, this is him disciplining you. It hardly even matters what for. Maybe you have been teasing him, sliding your hand up his thigh under the table, rubbing your ass against him while passing by him. Maybe you've been a brat all day, complaining and huffing and puffing about everything, barely listening to any of John's requests and/or demands. Either way, sit on his desk and spread your fucking legs, doll. He'll be edging you for what feels like hours, tongue moving so torturously slow that all coherent thought has seeped from your brain aside from how badly you want to cum. Too bad, bad girls don't deserve to finish this easily.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

With Simon, it's always a surprise what position you'll end up in. The only certainty you have is that it's definitely not what you'd expect, and sometimes you wish that for once he'd just lay you down and get busy. But alas, he'll have you kneeling with your face in the pillows, or bent over the back of the couch. Maybe he'll have you hanging off the edge of the bed so all the blood flows to your already overheating brain. You're clinging onto whatever you can get a hold on, mostly in pleasure, and sometimes in fear of falling when he has you up on his shoulders and leaned against the wall. Well, he doesn't exactly hear your complaining over your moans and whimpers, he argues, and he wouldn't dream of dropping you.

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish

As with Price, this has little to do with your pleasure: it's all for his own benefit. Please, lass, he loves your cunt, and she loves him, doesn't she? Come on, let him have a taste. He could give two shits about where you are or how convenient it is— if he wants to lick your pussy, he's going to. He's down on his knees while you're desperately clinging onto the kitchen counter, or the shower wall, or the shelves of your pantry. Hell, you'd have to hope and pray a sales associate won't come by your changing room in fear of them hearing all of his moans. Oh, and you quickly find out you cannot wear a skirt around him, because it won't come down from your hips if he has any say in it.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

He's devastatingly methodical. He knows your body better than you do at this point, and he's not afraid to use this to his advantage. He can work you just right, but the worst part is that he will refuse to. Unless you kindly ask him for it, that is. Tsk, pretty girl, use your words. Let him know where you need him, what you need him to do. He's hovering close enough that you can feel his breath on your neglected clit, your cunt clenching around nothing in desperate search for friction of any kind, but he won't do anything until you tell him in excruciating detail what you want. And be aware, any time you stop talking, he's pulling away in a second.

König

Oh, König... Sweet, wet-rag-of-a-man loser that he is, will completely lose his mind any time you allow him near your pussy. He can practically feel his brain melting while he's drowning himself in your slick, and he looks like it too. His eyes have rolled back, face flushed and his eyebrows scrunched in pure, unadulterated pleasure. His body has turned to complete mush, his cock leaking against the sheets and hands clawing onto any part of your body he can reach (which, with his arms, is basically everywhere). Unintelligible mumbles made into your cunt, teetering the edge between praise and begging. He is a little inexperienced, Schatz, so you'll have to show him how you like it. Shove his face between your folds and ride his nose, and you'll have him moaning like a bitch in heat. When he finally comes back up for air you can tell you're not the only one that reached heaven just now.

Philip Graves

I'm going to speak my truth here, he does not strike me as the kind of man to give you oral all that much. I am SORRY, but it's true. He usually prefers to get you nice and ready for him with his fingers, or by having you ride his thigh, or simply from the absolute filth he spews into your ear while dry-humping. However, on the odd occasion that Phil does get down and dirty, he aims to make it special. It's strangely sentimental, actually. It'd be outside on a picnic blanket after his homecoming, or in your shared bed after your anniversary dinner. Anything that reminds him how much he loves you, and how much you mean to him, and he's going to show you with his tongue. There's reverence in every suck, praise in every lick and prayer in every word he murmers into your core. You're his goddess and he's just here to worship you, baby.

Alejandro Vargas

For Ale, it'd be a form of gratuity much in the same way it is for Graves, though the difference is that he'll use that as an excuse even for the most menial things. His belly nice and full after your homecooked dinner, grin on his face and asking when his dessert is being served. You've been so good to him, amor, welcoming him home with a smile and a kiss and a plate waiting for him, now let him thank you properly. You fixed the button on his shirt that had fallen off? Well, put it on and lay yourself down, time to lap at your cunt in thanks. It's gotten to a point where you're convinced he just decided his goal in life is to pull as many orgasms from you as possible. Not that you're complaining, of course.

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parras

Eating you out is, in many ways, a means to an end for Rudy. He wants to make sure you're properly prepped and ready to take his cock, so it's almost instinctual for him to bury his face between your soft thighs for a while before inching himself into you. It's part of the routine, the way he thought sex was supposed to go. It's not until you explain to him that it can actually be the main event, and that you'd thoroughly enjoy it if he maybe put in a little more effort, that it dawns on him just how much he can actually do down there and how much time he's wasted not doing it. Now, tesoro, you may have shot yourself in the foot with that one, because he now can keep you pinned down for hours, just suckling away at your clit and fucking you on his tongue, dumb grin on his face after your fifth orgasm renders you basically comatose.

Valeria Garza

The only way Valeria will actually relax for once is with your pussy in her face. Seriously, you've tried everything else: lavender baths, deep tissue massages, even trying to get her to meditate. But no, the only time you actually see her shoulders lose all their tension is when she's between your folds. She's had such a long day, vida, come sit on her face. She's not even groping you the way she usually does during sex, hands instead playing idly with the fat of your thighs and ass while all her worries melt away. There are no thoughts running through her mind aside from how good you taste, how pretty you sound and how nice you feel under her hands.

[seobinghard]

PIERCING — k.hj

[ ☆ ] summary: hongjoong needs help with his ear piercings. or he just really needs you.

pairing: idol!hongjoong x fem!kq employee!reader. tags: idol!au, older!reader (two years), fluff, suggestive. tw: suggestive, slight dubcon, hongjoong's very possessive. he's a red flag ngl. mind games. mind games. mind games. this work does not depict hongjoong irl in any way, obvi. wc: 0.5k i think.

there's something so intimate about helping hongjoong remove his ear piercings.

he'd injured his right hand during dance practice a week ago; ring finger, now wrapped in a splint, black like his hair, ruffled and a bit overgrown after the europe tour.

you're not supposed to be here—in the quiet of his studio, you should be back at your desk finalising the concept design for the boys' next photoshoot for dazed but how are to say 'no' when your favourite boy asks you so sweetly, "noona, can you help me?"

hongjoong sits comfortably in his studio chair, legs spread apart so you can stand in between.

he's wearing black jeans–washed out and ripped at the knees–with a plain black tee; simple, clean. nothing spectacular. yet you can't help but feel breathless in his presence; suffocating, almost.

breathing in, you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, fingers deftly removing his silver conch piercing, then the hoop, then another, placing the jewellery one by one on a the desk behind you. you can feel his eyes on you, feel his breath burn against the skin of your forearm as he slowly leans into your touch like a pet would its owner. "like you touching me." he purrs softly, voiced laced with a flirtatious lilt. without warning, his hand glides gently up the back of your thigh, pulling you toward him as he looks up at you with a feline smirk, "like touching you more."

surprise paints your face, but you don't move. "j-joong, what are you doing?"

"i missed you," he murmurs, arms slipping around your waist as he rests his head against your chest. "did you miss me too?"

you and hongjoong are close, but you've always kept it professional, at least you tried to. he can cross a line or two–like now, but you've always been quick to shut his advances down. you know he likes you. and maybe you do too, but with how green you are in your career, you wouldn't risk it for a coworker's affection, especially not one so prominent and promising.

so you choose ignore his question and the heat in cheeks, and quietly move onto his other ear. "just ... tilt your a head a little for me?"

he does as told, reluctantly pulling away from your body. you can tell from the hitch in his breathing that he's not pleased. "you're avoiding me."

you are.

"i'm not." your words left your mouth a bit too quick for your liking. "i'm here, am i not?" you smile, praying he doesn't catch onto your desperation to dash out his studio and back to your little safe corner in the marketing office.

"you're glancing at the clock every second, do you need to be somewhere?" hongjoong asks, feigning concern.

he doesn't care if you need to be somewhere; you're right where you're meant to be. with him. and now that he has you right in front of him after three long months of being on tour overseas, of not seeing your pretty face and hearing your pretty voice call out his name, he'd be a fool to let you slip away anytime soon—not now. not ever.

"you're nervous," he whispers, grabbing your wrist.

you freeze, turning to him with flustered eyes. "what are you–"

slowly and steadily, hongjoong rises to his feet and before you can even process what's happening, you're backed against the desk, caged in his arms. "don't be nervous, baby. it's just you and me. you know me."

do you? because the last time you thought did, you agreed to help him remove his piercings—only to realise his intention was to trap you here in his studio all along.

you avert your gaze when joong leans in, but your defiance only makes his grin grow even wider. "noona," he whines, caressing your cheek ever-so-tenderly, "don't be like this."

he tilts your chin upwards and presses his lips on yours.

"joong, stop–" there's restraint in your voice, but it's quickly put out by his kiss as he tightens his hold on your nape, pulling you into him until your frown melts into moans, until your body completely gives out and you're nothing but a putty mess in his arms to catch, to protect, to care for. just like how he intended for you to be—all his.

"you have no idea how long i wanted this," he groans against your neck, leaving a trail of hot, heavy kisses on your skin before returning to your lips, breathing heavily, "you didn't answer my question. did you miss me? hm? tell me i've been on your mind like how you've been on mine."

there's an aching need in his voice, his eyes wide and pleading as if hearing a 'no' would crush him to pieces. you can tell him the truth; that yes—yes, you did think about him day and night, think about when you'd see him again, his name gnawing at you like a storm you can't escape. but, he also tricked you into his studio. two can play this game.

so, you tell him, "no. i don't."

hongjoong lets out a wry laugh, immediately catching onto the tremor in your voice. "fuck, my baby's a liar."

you're never leaving his studio.

© seobinghard 2025. all rights reserved. / m.list

a/n: chewing iron bars rn i need him so bad. this was supposed to be one paragraph LMAO tell me how we ended up here.

[threebea]

I need to write an AU where Obi-Wan works at Dex's diner maybe during the Imperial era and Clark Kenting it. Shaved his beard and wears glasses or some other low level cosmetic thing.

Patron: wow has anyone ever told you that you look like Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi?

Obi-Wan: oh yes, after betraying the Republic I got hired at a diner in cocotown since it was the only job I could get after becoming an enemy of the state. I'm afraid I'll have to beg for your silence on the matter.

Patron: haha can you imagine? Anyway I'll have the shake and fries.

⭐

Clone Trooper: hey doesn't that guy look like General Kenobi?

Clone Trooper Buddy: no he looks completely different. He has no facial hair, he has glasses, he has tattoos. General didn't look like that.

Third Clone Troopers: it's so hard to tell them apart.

Clone Trooper Buddy: besides with the amount of businesses that legally are allowed not to serve us you think the one that had General Kenobi working for them would let us in?

Clone Trooper: ugh good point.

Regular: Ben is nice Dex, but he's kind of clumsy. (Winces as a bunch of plates shatter in background)

Stormtroopers on leave tense and look over at the middle aged man profusely apologising, they turn back to their nerfburgers.

Dex: Ben means well and he's got a kid to look after you know? Besides he's gotten way better than he was before!

CRASH

Stormtrooper: do you know how hard it is to get space mustard off armour!?

Ben: I am so sorry 😭 please let me help you.

Regular: you're a good guy Dex (shakes head)

Later:

Dex: pal you gotta bring it down with the clumsy act. I can't afford this many dishes.

'Ben': you're only mad you didn't see their faces.

Dex: well that's also true. Steal anything good?

Ben: copied a few passcodes. They were gossiping about their next station. I'll put it on a drive and you can sell it.

Dex: I'll send a copy to Organa too. Never know when it might come in handy.

Stormtrooper: I need to see your identification citizen.

'Ben' completely unconcerned: of course! Ben Kenobi (hands over very good fake id)

Stormtrooper: (stares at him) wow that's rough. Do you get hassled? You related or something?

'Ben': hassled? Oh! Perhaps a bit in the beginning, but not as much now. I thought about changing my name, but updating ID now is so complicated.

Stormtrooper: tell me about it. I got married and it was a whole thing.

'Ben': exactly! Who has the time for the line up at a Service Corscant? I find being straightforward is the best way to go about it. I'm not even related, just the same Stewjoni last name and similar build. The name is what really makes people think I look like him.

Stormtrooper: yeah I wouldn't have even thought about it. Anyway you're clear. Have a good day.

Ben: you too! 😊 (Smiles as he walks away with a bag of weapons the Stormtrooper didn't bother to check)

[hyunjuenthusiast]

ITS ME AGAIN😎

need a jealous!hyun-ju x fem!reader who gets a bit too close with gi-hun, ANDD reader ends up getting edged and fingered roughly by jealous!hyun-ju as reader tried to quiet down in the bathroom??

TYSM I LVOE YOUR FICS🫶

HEYYYY👋🏻 Are you becoming a regular?!😂 Let me see what I can do!

BEAUTIFUL ENVY

Summary: During the games, you become close with Hyun-ju, not realizing the envy that builds inside of her when you start also getting close to Gi-Hun.

Pairing: Jealous!Hyun-ju x Femreader!

Warnings: SMUT and jealousy.

Not an adult? Don't read! 🔞

Hyun-ju grits her teeth as she hears you laugh along with Gi-Hun's group. Just because they decided to work together didn't mean that you could just leave her.

That thought made Hyun-ju tense. You weren't together. She had no right to be feeling this way. But the sight of you smiling at someone else after you had been so kind to her, made her want to strangle Gi-Hun.

Looking back over at you, her blood boils. Gi-Hun was offering you his gimbap. He'll no.

She was walking towards you before she could even think. You looked up at her as she stood in front of you and Gi-Hun, the rest of the group talking about random things, not really paying attention to Hyun-ju.

"Hyun-" You go to question, only to be silenced when she holds out her gimbap as well. The look she was giving Gi-Hun made you tense where you sat.

With both of them offering you their food, you didn't know what to do. "Um, thank you both, but I'm not that hungry!" You say, letting out a nervous chuckle that only Gi-Hun returns.

You give Hyun-ju a soft smile, trying to ease whatever tension this was. You can see her relax a little.

She sits on the other side of you. Young-il asked Gi-Hun about what he thought the next game would be, and you listened closely, leaning in closer.

You heard her scoff before you felt her hand on your forearm. She pulled you a bit closer to her, leaning down close to your ear. "He doesn't know anything about the next game. He was wrong about the second game. We shouldn't trust him." She whispers.

You frown. You did trust Gi-Hun. He helped everyone in red light, green light. He's voted to go home, which is more than Hyun-ju has done. She voted to stay once after all.

"He's not untrustworthy-" you try to say until you notice her soft glare, making you shrink a bit into yourself. "You can't be sure of someone's intentions, sweet girl, especially in here." She explains softly. You knew she was right. But that means you also couldn't trust her.

She seems to know what you were thinking, and you see her eyes soften. "You know I'd never betray you, don't you? Not after what happened to Young-Mi." She whispers, making you look down in guilt.

"I know." You whisper back softly, your breath hitching as she reaches to hold your hand. "I won't let anyone hurt you. Not any of the players, not any of the guards, not even yourself." She says. Your eyebrows furrow for a moment, not really knowing what she means by not letting you hurt yourself, but she doesn't clarify.

You made a mistake. That's all. You wouldn't leave her. Not for him. He's old enough to be your father. But the way you clung to him during lights out...

She clenches her fists. As soon as the guards shut it down and announced it was time for bed, she grabbed your wrist, making you get out of your bed. Not enough to hurt, but enough were you knew she was serious. You question her with your gaze, but she looks straight ahead, her pace much faster than yours.

She knocks on the door, and a triangle guard opens the little window to see what she wants. "She got her period. Would you please let us through so I can help her clean her pants?" She asks making your eyes widen. You weren't on your period.

When the window shuts, she quickly takes off her jacket, tying it around your waist. Knocking again, this time, the guard lets you through.

She was smart. The guard checked your backside when you walked past him.

As soon as the woman's restroom door shut, Hyun-ju rushed and pushed you against a wall, her touch firm, making you gasp.

"W-What are you doing?" You ask, the look in her eyes changing from firm...to hunger.

"You let him hold you." She whispers close to your ear. "W-what? Wh-" She inturupts, "Gi-Hun. Player 456. You let that asshole touch you." She sneers. You have to crane your neck to look up at her. "I-I don't underst-" you try to say.

"You will." Hyun-ju says, her eyes dark. One of her hands travels down your body, stopping just under the line of your bra. "What color is it, baby?" She asks in a whisper.

You give her a confused look. "What color is your bra?" She says, one of her fingers tracing where your nipple is.

Your eyes widen, but you feel the need to answer her. "P-Purple" you whisper, hearing her inhale sharply.

"Has he seen it? Gi-Hun?" She asks, starting to lift your shirt up gently. "N-No of course not, w-why would-" She shuts you up with a kiss. Her lips are softer than what you would have thought, and moist.

"I see the way he looks at you, baby." She says as she breaks the kiss. "And you give him those sweet puppy eyes, don't you?" She asks, lifting your shirt over your head, her eyes immediately taking in the sight of your breasts.

"I don't." You whisper. "You do, baby. Don't lie. But that's okay, I'll fix it." She says, leaning down and kissing the edge of your cleavage. "Mmm, so soft." She mumbles against the supple flesh of your right breast.

"What do you mean? Fix what?" You ask, a little breathless already. You can feel her smirk. "I'll make sure you only look at me." She says, keeping her eyes on yours as she rips your bra.

You gasp, making her chuckle darkly. She throws the now useless peice of cloth on the bathroom floor, returning her hands to your chest, squeezing.

Hyun-ju leans back down, waisting no time with taking your nipple into her mouth. The cold bathroom, in contrast to her hot mouth, makes you shiver.

You gasp as she switches to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. "H-Hyun-ju we can't" you whimper, making her chuckle. She's already kissing her way down your stomach, getting on her knees in front of you.

Faster than you can think, she has your pants pulled down, looking at your matching purple underwear. "You're so fucking beautiful, baby." She whispers, starting to kiss up your thigh.

She gently kisses your clit through your panties, making you gasp. "I can see how wet you are, Y/n. You've soaked your panties." She whispers, looking up at you hungrily. You don't protest as she slides them down next.

"Oh baby..." She coos, looking at your pussy. "Your little clit is swollen...do you want me to make it all better? Hmm?" She asks, making you whine.

You nod.

That clearly didn't satisfy her because the next second, you feel a small slap to your pussy. "Use your words like a good girl." She says firmly. Holy fuck.

"Y-Yes...please make it better!" You whimper. She gives you a smile before you feel her tongue on your clit.

She teases you just a little before reaching up and putting two of her fingers inside you. "Fuck baby, you're so tight. You can take another one, can't you?" She says, her tone mocking. When you whine, shaking your head, she adds another anyway, giving you a nice stretch.

Having both her fingers and her tongue feels like heaven. Pure heaven. But that thought quickly leaves your mind when you feel her change the pace.

You could hear the wet sound of your pussy as her fingers set an unforgivable pace. "H-Hyun-ju!" You squel. "T-To much p-please slow down!" You moan.

You look down, watching as she pulls away from your clit, smirking.

"To bad." She says, fingerings you a little harder. "Oh fuck!" You scream, the back of your head against the wall.

"Do you think Gi-Hun could make you feel this good? Hmm?" She asks, her eyes sharp. You quickly shake your head, which makes her stop.

"What did I say about using your words?" She sneers, taking her fingers away. "No no please don't stop!" You beg, your hips lifting trying to get her back.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" She asks, her lips kissing the skin just above your clit.

You go to nod, but remember her words. "Yes!" You say, making her tikt her head. "Tsk tsk tsk, say it properly, baby. Tell me you'll be a good girl for me." She commands.

"I'll be a good girl for you!" You say quickly, making her chuckle once more. "Only for me?" She asks, and you nod quickly. "Yes yes only for you Hyun-ju!"

She puts her fingers back inside you, setting another brutal pace. "Are you going to cum for me?" She asks.

"Yes yes! I'm so close!" You whimper. Not expecting her to pull away again, but she does.

"I don't think so. Not until I know you're sorry. You hurt my feelings with the way you looked at Gi-Hun. How do I know you won't let him touch you again? Hmm?" She says, licking her fingers clean of you.

You almost cry. "I am sorry, Hyun-ju. I'm so sorry, I only want you!"

She pretends to think, her thumb reaches up, keeping you on edge by rubbing tight circles on your already overstimulated clit.

"If I see you even look in his direction, I'll have you over my knee, no matter if we're in the bathroom or not." She says, making you nod.

This time, when you feel her fingers and that familiar pressure building in your tummy, she doesn't pull away. "Cum for me, pretty girl." She says, her voice sending vibrations through your core.

She stimulates you through your climax, making sure not a second of pleasure is wasted. "Such a good girl for me." She whispers, her head getting awfully close to your core.

"W-what are y-" you can't finish your sentence as she licks into you. "Mmm let me clean you up, baby." She says.

After she helps you put your shirt and pants back on, she picks up the discarded bra, putting it in her pocket. "Come on, sweet girl, you need to rest for tomorrow." She says, her tone now soft.

She holds your hand on the walk back to your bunk. She even kisses your forehead before she walks back to her own.

You don't notice that she makes a stop first.

Hyun-ju walks up to player 456's bed, leaving a torn purple fabric next to his shoes.

Stay away from her girl Gi-Hun✋🏻😏

[yapperblog]

Tags: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, kinda mean Joost.

Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18

You walk down a busy street, the path is familiar to you – it leads to the Internet Cafe, where you go to do your personal admin tasks and unwind playing games after a stressful day at work. It is already dark outside, but the sound of rain splattering onto your umbrella and lights of the nearby shops shining from the windows as you walk past are keeping you company.

As you reach your destination, you notice a printed note on the door "Today we are closing for maintenance at 10pm. Come back tomorrow for usual working hours." You sigh, as you usually prefer to stay for longer, the whole point of it being open 24/7.

Familiar clacking of the keyboard, murmur of conversations and laughter of groups of people engaged in a computer game greets you as you walk in. You put away your umbrella and head to the administrator's desk. Your heart starts pounding faster, as it does every time you see him. Joost, who works at the cafe, is sitting at his desk, a usual scowl on his face and a cigarette hanging from his lips, even though there is a No smoking sign. He is the sole reason this place is running as smoothly as it does, he keeps every customer at check. From the first time you came here, you could tell everyone is scared of him due to his mean attitude, but it thrills you – the smudged eyeliner look he has, his style, how he towers over everyone, it all excites you. You haven't talked to him much, he keeps it pretty short with everyone, an uninterested look on his face, so getting a few words from him always seems like a win.

You unbutton your jacket and fix your skirt, which you wore just for him – today it is even shorter than usual. He doesn't talk much, but you can feel his eyes on you, when you wear those skirts. How he rolls his eyes, when you bat your eyes at him asking for help on the computer, even though you know how to fix it yourself, he is annoyed, but never denies your ask for help. It excites you knowing you have some effect on him.

"Hi, 2 hours please." you say as you reach his desk, sliding the exact amount of cash for 2 hours on the computer and internet.

"We close at 10 today." he doesn't look up, takes your money.

"I saw the note." you say and before he can point at what computer is free, you chime in. "I was thinking...do you need any help?"

He stops typing, stares at the screen and then looks up at you. You smile cheerily, "I can help with the maintenance, whatever that is, or I can vacuum. It will be faster together." yet his facial expression doesn't change from the usual bored scowl.

"We are fine." he says and turns back to the computer.

"5th computer is yours for 2 hours" he points at the direction of the desk.

You turn around to walk towards it, not entirely surprised by his answer, but it was worth a try. You say hi to other usual customers you've become friends with. As you take a seat, you look behind your shoulder, catching Joost staring at the exposed skin provided by your short skirt. You can't help but clench your thighs together, hoping he notices how a simple glance from him arouses you, wishing it was him touching you directly.

2 hours go by fast. You throw your head back laughing at something a guy next to you said. He is funny, and has been a good company, you put your hand on his thigh, not meaning anything by it, other than trying to catch yourself as you laugh again leaning forward. On accident your eyes meet Joost, who is watching your hand on the guy's thigh – his scowl angrier than usual, the cigarette letting out smoke as it hangs from his lips.

"It's 10pm. Everyone – out." Joost stands up to announce and walks towards the desks with a trash bag to collect any junk left by the customers.

You start to pack your things, when you feel a hand on your upper arm. It's a guy you met earlier, "I was thinking, maybe you want to grab a drink with me? There is a good bar nearby. If you are not busy."

You are about to reply, when you hear a familiar deep voice coming from behind you. "She is helping here today."

You turn to face Joost. "I thought you said-"

"Yeah. Change of plans. Are you staying or no?"

You look at the guy, who is still waiting for your answer. "Sorry, I can't today."

The last customer leaves – it's just you and Joost now. You stand awkwardly, not really having expected your evening to turn out this way.

"Grab the trash bag, throw out anything that's not supposed to be on the desks. And wipe them down later, cleaning wipes are next to the printer. I will vacuum. The guys should come soon to update the computers." you just stare at him, this must be the most you've heard him talk.

"What?" he asks with raised eyebrows after you don't reply.

"Nothing." you giggle and grab the trash bag. This should be fun.

It is not a big space, so you keep bumping into each other, as he vacuums under the desks, you mutter little sorries, but he keeps at task, seemingly in his own world. His presence in the same room feels electric, now that everyone else is gone, you want his attention more than ever. You bend down and reach forward on the desk as if to pick up the trash at the back of it, your skirt bunching up higher revealing even more skin. You know he notices it, you don't even have to look back to feel his eyes on you. Even a little brush of his arm next to you makes your breath hitch, you wonder if he can tell. Was it jealousy that made him change his mind and let you stay? You want to talk to him, but the constant noise of the vacuum cleaner makes it impossible.

The next time, you intentionally pick a desk to clean right where he is vacuuming. You lean against it and your ass brushes against his hip. He doesn't move away, you wiggle your hips slightly. The noise suddenly stops.

"What are you doing?" he asks. Only the buzz of computers running and your both heavy breathing can be heard in the room. You haven't noticed how worked up he has gotten you just by being close, but seeing how his own chest is rising and falling you can guess it had the same effect on him.

"What do you mean?" you are still in the same position, and he also hasn't moved. He looks down at where your ass meets his hip. The cool metal clasp of his pants feels nice on your skin. You play coy and it thrills you what he will do about it. "I am cleaning the desks as you told me to, am I not?"

He groans and the sound of it makes you grin.

"Well, I think you missed a spot." his voice is lower than usual.

"Huh? Where?"

"Right there." he points at the suspicious stain at the back of the desk. You lean in to reach it, when you feel him move behind you. A pair of warm hands holding your waist, it makes you stop in your tracks, suddenly hot all over.

"Why did you stop? Should I help you?" his crotch is pressed behind you.

"I don't think I see it. I do need some help."

His palm slides from your waist up to your shoulder, down your arm, as he reaches your hand, holding it gently, his chest now pressed against your back. Your heart is threatening to jump out of your throat. The weight of his body on you, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes he smokes makes your head spin. You can't help but arch your back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips.

You hear him huff next to your ear. "Such a pretty girl. Coming here flaunting in your tiny skirts." he speaks quietly and a chill runs down your spine.

"Always the loudest laugh in the room." he continues and moves your hand to wipe down the stain, holding it firmly in his own. "But I can't even bring myself to say anything, because I love the sound of it." he admits. "Don't think I don't notice you."

"Oh, I know you notice." you try to calm your breathing, but fail miserably, it comes out more as a pathetic whimper. He chuckles at how fast he has gotten you wrapped around his finger.

"So you wear it just for me?" he continues moving your hand, his lips ghosting over your neck. "Not these other guys?"

"Only you. I don't need anyone else." you try to turn your head to look at him, but he straightens up and holds the back of your neck.

"Fuck." he groans, you can feel he is getting hard, the rough material of his jeans still pressed against you. You want him to know how wet he got you. "What should I do with you?"

His hand starts trailing from waist down to your thigh, when you hear the door open. He quickly takes a step back from you, turning away. You also stand up from the desk, fixing your hair.

"Hi. We are here for the computer updates?" one of the men says.

Joost goes up to greet them and show around. "Continue cleaning." he calls out to you, when walking past.

After awhile you start to get bored, now that you are not alone, Joost has gone back to ignoring you. The lack of his hands on you makes you feel so lonely, you can still remember the weight and warmth of him pressing you onto the desk, and it is still not enough. He is sitting at his desk, lighting up another cigarette, you watch him flick a lighter, taking a few deep drags filling his lungs with smoke.

You walk towards him. "Is there anything else I can help with?"

He looks around the room, "Honestly.. no. You can go home, you know." there is a hint in his voice that shows he feels bad for keeping you here waiting around for whatever reason. You must have better ways of spending the night rather than this dirty old place.

"I can stay." you reassure him. "I want to help you finish your shift." you trace a nail down his bicep. He looks at your hand, then back up at your face. After his confession of loving the sound of your laugh and calling you a pretty girl you became bolder. His eyes shift to the men still working on the computers, "How long will this take?" he calls out to them.

They shrug, looking at each other. "Like another.. hour or so." one of them replies. Your head drops in defeat, why is it taking so long.

"Sure you don't want to go home?" Joost asks you again.

"I'm sure."

"To help me finish the shift you said?" he laughs. And it makes you stop in your tracks. This is the first time you heard him laugh, what a beautiful sound. You need more of it.

"You are doing it again." he says, his attention back to the computer.

"Doing what?"

"Staring at me silently."

"I am fascinated by you." you want to smooth down the messy strands of hair sticking out in the back of his head. But restrict yourself not to push your luck too much.

"You are so weird." he says putting out his cigarette in an ashtray. "If you need something to do, here take the pencils, sharpen them." You sigh and take the pencils and the sharpener.

You are sitting at the opposite side of where the two men are busy working on computers, their chatter can be heard in the room. You have the perfect vision of Joost, from where you sit facing him, conveniently hidden from anyone else's eyes. He keeps checking on you, humming a melody while sharpening the pencils, as if it is the most interesting task in the world. He seems to have gotten back to his previous uninterested demeanour or just tries to act this way around others. You wave your fingers at him and shoot a smile. He shakes his head at you and is about to turn back to the computer, when you uncross your legs, slowly pushing them apart just for his viewing pleasure, you trace a pencil from your upper thigh closer to your skirt, raising it higher and higher, revealing the side of your panties. You look into his eyes, the bright blue irises almost invisible at this point, how aroused he is.

"We are done." the man stands up and starts to pack up their bags. Joost all but jumps out of his seat. "Thank you guys." and starts to walk them out of the door.

The door closes, the silence surrounding you both again. The anticipation is killing you, you tentatively stand up and head in his direction.

"I sharpened the pencils." you say showing him the sharp ends.

"Good." he takes the pencils, placing them on a nearby desk.

His back is turned to you, you take an opportunity to glide your hands along his back muscles. He doesn't scold you, or move away, so you continue working your hands up to his shoulders, down his arms. "You seem so tense."

You don't have time to react, he moves so quick pinning you to a desk behind you. The backs of your legs pressed against it, he is mere inches away from you, holding both your wrists in one hand. Joost leans his face down toward yours, his hand sliding down to your neck as he rests it there. His eyes dart between your soft lips and eyes.

"You really wanna get fucked here? Want me to pause my work for a needy slut?" He growls lowly, keeping a firm grip on your neck as he brings his face close to yours, his other hand holding your waist. The sudden change makes your head spin as you smile and look up at him through your lashes. You are finally getting exactly what you wanted. "Yes, please." your smile grows with your arousal as you keep your lidded eyes on his handsome face, plastered with frustration.

You wait for his next move, smiling innocently at him, even though there is not a single innocent thought in your head right now. "I want you, Joost." you say into his ear. He leans into your neck, his lips and moustache ghosting over the sensitive skin. You think he might kiss you, but he licks a stripe on your neck, it makes you moan louder than you anticipated and suddenly he turns you around. His hand pressing down on the back of your neck pushing you into the desk.

"I can give you what you want." he presses his crotch against you. It makes you gasp, you can feel he is big, it excites you to no end, just like the sound of the metal clacking, in the peripheral of your position you can see him undoing his belt and pushing his pants down just enough to free his erection. You were right, he is big – it will be a stretch, but so pleasurable, you are ready for anything he will give you. He wraps his hand around his dick, the tip already dripping pre-cum.

"You want this as bad as I do, don't you?" you ask, wiggling your ass at him.

He just groans in response, still working on his dick, looking down at you. In a swift motion, he flips your skirt up, exposing your panties to him.

"If you wanna pretend you're all angry with me you can, I always liked watching you get angry at other customers." you tease, feeling a new wave of arousal wash over you when you feel his eyes on you.

"Hurry up." you press yourself further into him.

He takes a hold of your hips, taking off your panties in a swift motion and slides his thumb down to your clit, rubbing slow teasing circles over it, effectively shutting you up. The hand he has on the back of your neck tightens against you as he watches your mouth open in a small o, your eyes rolling back in your head. "So fucking easy, I touch you a little and you behave," Joost says, his cock dripping pre-cum against your ass as he throbs watching your face contort from pleasure.

"I am not easy." you try to argue.

"No?" he speeds up his movements on your clit, the wet sound filling the room. "Look at you. I have barely touched you and you are already dripping wet." his fingers move to your hole, he dips one finger in, soon after the second finger follows.

You try to press your thighs together as he continues sliding his fingers in and out of you, but Joost is having none of that. His large thigh knocks your knees apart, keeping you spread open for him so he has full access to your pussy.

"M-mmmm" You moan, your ass wiggling back against him as you try to escape the intense pleasure he was giving you – or were you trying to get more? You are so lost in pleasure. "I want you inside. Put it in." you try to meet his eyes from your position. "Please."

He looks down at you, slowing down his movements, but not completely. "I don't have any condoms on me, sweetheart."

"That's okay. You can do it raw. I don't mind." you plead. "I am on the pill."

He grew even harder than before, your teary eyes and needy voice fogging his judgement. He spends a few more moments stretching you out on his fingers, listening to your moans, what makes you louder, making sure you are ready for him.

You whined at the loss of his fingers, but the feeling was soon replaced by the fat head of his cock. You reach your hand behind you, wrapping your hand around his cock. "Fuck." he exhales loudly as you move your hand from his head along the shaft. You rub the head up and down your folds, mixing his precum with your juices, making sure his cock was nice and wet before he fucked you. But also to hear more of his sounds, you could get drunk on every sound that leaves his mouth.

"Enough, baby. Or the fun will end far too soon for my liking." he moves your hand away.

"I am glad you are having fun, baby." you tease him at the use of a petname already. You wiggle your hips and hear a groan from him. "And you say I'm easy."

The smile from your lips changes into a moan, as you feel him catching his head against your entrance and pressing against it teasingly before he pulles back, making you whine. "Please."

"Please what?" he asks. You didn't miss the teasing tone in his voice, it was his turn to play with you now. "I need you inside. Please" you begged, pouting against his desk as you tried to look back at him, even though it is hard from your position. Joost releases the back of your neck to grab both of your wrists in one large hand, keeping them restrained against your lower back, as he slides his dick slowly into you. The stretch is there, but it is quickly replaced by pleasure when he starts to move dragging against your walls, there is no resistance at how wet you are.

He speeds up the pace of his hips against you, the slapping echoing louder in the room as he abuses your g-spot with his dick. "What's wrong? Too much?" Joost asks, faux sympathy laced in his voice. You can only moan in response. "That's too bad. You wanted this, so you're going to fucking take it." He groans.

He reaches down to rub your clit, feeling you clench around him. Your legs are shaking from the intense pleasure flooding your body. Joost's balls slapping harshly against your clit, making your brain turn to mush as he fucks you so deep.

He is getting embarrassingly close to his release, he hasn't gotten laid in awhile and you are making it so hard for him to last. He leans forward, his chest flush against your back as he crushes you with his weight, his hand restraining your wrists being crushed between your bodies, his mouth right against your ear as he says, "So fucking good for me."

Your eyes roll back in your head each time his fat tip brushes against your sweet spot deep inside you. "Would you have said yes to that guy asking you out?" He whispers, his deep voice in your ear sending goosebumps down your spine. His possessiveness makes you feel hot all over.

"Yes." you lie to see his reaction. "I wanted to agree."

"Oh yeah?" his thrusts get harder, both of his hand gripping your hips, moving you to meet his thrusts. "Would you let him fuck you like this?"

Your pussy squeezes tightly around his cock as he fucks you open for him. He keeps his weight against you, his balls slapping against your thighs making lewd noises to echo around the cafe. "Answer me."

"No." you confess. "I would have never gone with him. I already said I only want you."

"Good." he says and your moans increase in frequency, you are squeezing him impossibly tight. "I'm so close" you moan feeling the familiar pleasure spread in your lower stomach. His weight on you, the fact that it is a public place, empty but public nonetheless, his smell all around you, his sharp thrusts inside you make you closer to your peak by the second. "Do it. Cum all over my cock, pretty girl, c'mon." He coos into your ear, his own dick twitching inside you with his impending release as he keeps the same pace up, working you higher and higher to your orgasm.

Your eyes screw shut and your mouth falls open in a loud moan. "Yeah, that's it- oh fuck" Joost groans as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your moans sound shaky as the rest of your body jolts as it was wracked with your high.

Joost's hips still against your ass as his cock twitches inside you with every rope of cum he shoots deep inside. His balls clench with his cock as he releases inside you, groaning loudly against your ear. You whine back, keeping your thighs pressed together as he rolls his hips against you, letting your walls milk him entirely before he stops moving. "So good." Joost huffs as he comes down from his high, his body crushing yours even more as he relaxed against you from such intense orgasm.

He was still deep inside you and he could already feel how his cum was spilling out around his dick from how much he came. "It is getting hard to breathe..." you whisper against the desk, your cheek being squished into the wood by his body on you. Joost quickly stands up. "Sorry." he groans as he slowly pulls his spent cock out of you.

You hiss as he slides out of you. Your walls clenching around him in instinct, making him wince as your pussy hugs his tip before he slid it fully out of you. He reaches over your body to grab the tissues on the side of his desk, grabbing a couple as he wipes gently against your thighs. He cleans up himself and tucks back into his pants.

He helps you to your feet, you stand on shaky legs, reaching around his shoulders for support. He pulls your panties back up and fixes your skirt.

You can feel his arms wrap around your waist, helping you stand and come back to Earth. You realise you are hugging, he just came inside you, but you are melting at the simple hug.

"Thank you." you say quietly looking up at him from where your head lays on his shoulder.

"Thanking me? For what? Did I fuck you so well?" he asks, looking down at you, tucking a strand behind your ear. Something has changed in him, you can tell, he seems softer.

"For letting me stay." you say. "And yes, you did fuck well. I can still barely stand." you laugh.

He smiles at that, your words boasting his ego. "You can stay any time."

"Any time?" your voice comes out almost a squeak how excited you are.

"We are literally open 24/7." he says after a pause and laughs, you slap his chest lightly and laugh too.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 9

Source for pic

Trouble 9

Word Count: 5471

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Reader in a terror-like state; Dead Animals Mentioned; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: I've left very ominous comments in the last chapter, saying something big would happen in chapter 9... I didn't get to write the part I wanted, but I still think some big stuff happens in this chapter... I'll let you all be the judges of that! So tell me all about it, will you?

Masterlist

BANG, BANG, BANG! 

Your hands cover your ears, but not even that can keep out the deafening sound of the incessant pounding on the front door. 

Desperate sobs make your shoulders shake as tears flow freely down your already tear-streaked cheeks. 

You're so tired. 

“Make it stop… please, please, make it stop.” You whisper, pleading with whichever deity is willing to listen because you've run out of options. 

“Come on, Trouble! I know you're in there!” Zoro? “If you don't open this fucking door, I swear I will break it down!”

The relief that washes over you is immediate and dizzying. It's Zoro. It's not your stalker. It's Zoro! 

Bzzzz.

Unknown: Don’t open, Kitten.

Ignoring the text, you get up swiftly and if you thought relief might stop the tears, it's the exact opposite. You're crying even harder. For a split second your fingers tremble against the doorknob, weighing your options. There's a little voice in the back of your head telling you that Zoro will get hurt because of you, that you'll regret it, but another shout from Zoro keeps your thoughts from spiraling further. 

“Trouble!”

Bzzzz.

Unknown: If you tell him anything about our little secret, I WILL hurt him.

“I'm going to count to three!” Zoro shouts.

Yet he doesn't even get to one. You need to see him. Unlocking all the bolts with shaky fingers, you swing the door open almost all the way, your hand flying to your mouth as you try to stifle a sob. 

“Fucking finally! I've been texting all day, trying to call. I only just got out of work because every time I was about to leave, there seemed to–” Zoro pauses his angry tirade, his eye scanning you from top to bottom, taking in your heaving shoulders, your wet and puffy face, the bags beneath your eyes, and most likely the way your clothes hang looser from lack of sustenance and stress. “The fuck?”

You can't speak. He's all you can think of. A beacon of light, a safety net tethering you back when you were lost in a spiral of fear. 

“Zo…”

He reaches but pulls back instantly, his head cocking to the side as he assesses you. You avoided his touch like the plague last weekend, hell, you've been avoiding him all week. 

You've avoided him for a lifetime, it seems. 

Like a spring, you jump forward, your arms instantly wrapping around his broad torso, and his scent hits you like a truck. He's home. He's safety. He's everything. 

“Hey, hey, it's okay. Whatever it is, Trouble, I'll take care of it, okay?” When his strong arms envelop you in warmth, you bury your face against his shirt, not caring one bit if you're about to leave snot, drool, and tears all over it. You need to be closer. You need to feel safer. “Did something happen to Shanks?”

You shake your head. Thank God your father is away. If he saw you like this, he would break. Though maybe if your dad were home, you wouldn't even have a stalker… 

Zoro's hand tangles in your hair, settling against your nape as he cradles you closer to him, and you can't stop the tears. You're crying for all you've suffered, for all you've endured, and for what's sure to happen because you're in Zoro's arms, and there’s no way your stalker is going to let you get away with this. 

But just for a bit, just a little bit, you need to revel in him. 

“Then let's talk inside.” Zoro whispers your name, trying to coax you away from him long enough to enter and close the door, but you still cling to him, as if letting go means going back to the nightmare you've been living in. “Hey, I just want to close the door, okay? I'm not leaving.”

He's not leaving? 

You want to tell him to go, that he can't stay with you, that you'll only bring him suffering. Who knows what your stalker is capable of? You can't risk Zoro, you just can't! Before you can stop it, images of Lucci’s face without eyes and the clerk without hands swim in your vision, and you wince. 

But you don't protest. 

You only cling harder. 

Zoro sighs and drags you inside the house, never letting go of you. After closing the door he guides you to the couch probably meaning to sit next to you, but you hold him so tight that he pulls you to his lap. Your legs to the side and arms still wrapped tightly around him. You sense as he lays a soft kiss on the top of your head and then leans his chin where his lips had been. Zoro's hand still runs soothing circles on your back and it's unlikely your sobs are going to slow down anytime soon. 

“You're all right, Trouble. I'm here. I'll never let anything happen to you.”

You're so exhausted and drained that you barely realise you're falling asleep. Until darkness claims you. 

-*-

To say that Zoro's mad is an understatement. He's more than mad, he's furious. 

At first, he was mad at you. For a lot of things, actually. Avoiding him, ghosting him, pretending that what you had - or what was starting to develop - meant nothing to you. But mostly, he was mad at the way you kept ignoring all his calls and texts. That was driving him insane. 

But now… 

Now, he's fucking seething. 

He's going to find out what - or who - has left you in this state, and he's going to make it right. Because there's no way you look like this just because you're tired or because you miss your dad. 

Fucking bullshit. 

You look like a ghost. A starving ghost at that. 

A heavy sigh parts his lips as he runs a hand down his face. One fucking thing at a time. You need to eat. 

After you rest. 

Your breathing evens out after a while, but the way you're clinging to him makes him wait a while longer before moving you. He makes sure you're comfortable on the couch before putting a blanket over you. 

His chest aches at the way your breath hitches as you inhale. Your brows furrow, and your fingers now grasp the blanket instead of his shirt. 

He's seen enough shit in his profession to realise the telltale signs. And it's pretty fucking clear that you're scared of something. 

He's going to find out what. 

As he turns to go to the kitchen and prepare some food for you - even if he has to force-feed you - his eye falls on the garish bouquet of fresh roses on the table. 

“Fuck.” 

Didn't you say the gifts had stopped? He remembers that clearly. Could the flowers be from someone else? 

Zoro approaches and inspects the roses with an analytical eye. They're ordinary. And there's no card. 

No fucking clue. 

Mumbling another string of curses, Zoro rummages around your cabinets, and the action only makes him madder. The bread is stale and mouldy, the vegetables and fruit are withered, and the opened milk in the fridge has gone sour. It looks like you haven’t gone shopping or had a decent meal in days.

Zoro finds an unopened bottle of milk that’s still good and some cereal, so that will have to do for now. He’ll force it down your throat when you wake up, even if you protest. One quick look around the house makes him realise you have all the windows and doors bolted and the curtains drawn. 

He wouldn't find that suspicious any other time, after all, you’re all alone inside a big house. But considering you’re scared witless, this looks mighty suspicious. 

He returns to the living room, giving the bouquet of roses the stink-eye, and sits on the couch next to you. His keen eye not missing the way you shiver slightly, even though he’s covered you with a blanket, or the way your lower lip trembles with each breath. 

Then, his eye falls on the small end table, where your phone rests.

Zoro’s hand twitches, and he lets out a low grunt. That damn phone. You didn’t part with it at Robin’s, and every time you looked at it, you only got more distressed. Should he…?

No, he can’t. It’s your privacy, he can’t intrude. All he can do is be there for you and–

“Fuck it.” Zoro’s hand reaches for the phone as a small whimper escapes your lips. You can be mad at him all you want later. For now, he needs to understand what the hell is making you look like a ghost of yourself. And especially what’s making you push him away.

He takes a deep breath and swipes the screen.

It’s locked. 

Fuck.

Maybe this is a sign that he shouldn’t be doing this? Except, he believes in signs as much as he believes in coincidences. 

He doesn’t.

So, with slow movements, Zoro grabs your hand and places your index finger over the phone. The breath he releases when the phone unlocks is slow and relieved. It feels like he’s about to figure out the reason you’re acting so weird. 

And everything you’re hiding from him. 

His eyes scan up and down as he searches for any suspicious texts. Sure enough, there are his texts and missed calls. You didn’t even read them.

And then…

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.

What the fuck?

-*-

You blink slowly, adjusting to the brightness of the morning, and feel strangely well-rested. It doesn’t take you long to understand why. What hits you first is his strong scent, something you’ve come to associate with safety, and then you realise you’re hugging him.

“Morning, Trouble.” Zoro’s voice is husky, he was probably sleeping too. You blush involuntarily, realising this is what he sounds like in the morning and not minding one bit the thought of waking to this sound every day for the rest of your life.

“Hi. You stayed…”

“Of course I did. Sleep well?” 

Yeah you did. You slept like you haven’t in what feels like forever. The stalker threat is still there, you feel it taunting you in the back of your mind, like an ever-growing presence, but Zoro’s mere presence manages to keep it at bay. 

“I did.”

“Good.” He’s still holding you tight, and you don't make any move to let go either. “I was sleeping on the other couch, when you started to whimper and tremble. I didn’t want you to wake up because it looked like you needed the rest, and you seemed to calm down when I touched you, so…”

He leaves the rest unsaid, and you hold him tighter. God, you really needed him. 

After a while of silence, Zoro starts to shift, so you sit up as well, stretching. 

“You don’t have anything to eat, Trouble. Why haven’t you gone grocery shopping?”

Shit. “Oh, I’ve been postponing it. There’s so much to do around the farm.” Lies, lies, lies. “And there are always eggs from the chickens, I’ll never starve.”

“The food you have has gone bad, or nearly bad. Have you been eating?” Zoro’s eye pierces yours and you pass a hand through your hair to smooth your “bed hair”, as well as to try and deflect his inquiry. 

“I ate a lot of takeout this week. Didn’t really feel like cooking, I’ve just been so tired.” It’s mostly true…

“You told me the gifts stopped.”

Fuck.

“What is this, Zoro? Am I under questioning? Should you take me to the station for this?” You get up with a huff, knowing he’s inching towards the truth fast. 

“I don’t know, should I?” He also gets up, his face turning into a frown. “You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks!”

“You haven’t eaten.”

“Yes, I have!”

“You’re scared shitless.”

Your hands shoot to your hips, and you stamp your feet. “I am–”

“Stop deflecting! Don’t lie to me, damn it! I thought we were friends!” Zoro sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Don’t shut me out.” 

He stares intently at you, his hand reaching to touch you, and you sigh. Of course, he knows something is up. Averting his gaze, you turn and start walking away because you know that if you stay, you’ll tell him everything. And you can’t do that. You already risked a lot just by letting him spend the night. “I really need to use the bathroom now. We’ll talk later.”

He doesn’t stop you, but you still hear his muffled imprecations, and even though you don’t look him in the eye as you grab your phone, you sense him tracing your every move. 

-*-

“Eat.” You took a while in the bathroom, and even though you entered looking more like yourself, you now look scared and pale again. The texts flooded your phone as soon as you closed the bathroom door.

Unknown: Naughty, naughty, naughty. The whole night with the cop? After I warned you? Unknown: Oh, Kitten, you have no idea how absolutely mad I am right now. His arms around what is mine?  Unknown: I told you I didn’t want to hurt the cop, but I don’t think I have another choice now. Unknown: I thought you were going to behave. You’ll need to be punished. 

It kept buzzing, but you didn’t dare to read any more. The more you read his threats, the more scared you would look. And you can’t let Zoro know what’s going on. Not when his safety is at stake.

“I’m not hungry.” You say as you shove the cereal bowl Zoro placed in front of you as soon as you left the bathroom. 

“Eat, Trouble, or I swear I will force it down your throat.” He growls as his hand bangs the table. When you flinch slightly, he sighs and leans back in his chair. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be hard on you. It’s just…”

Zoro gets up from the seat in front of you, rounds the table, and kneels next to you, touching your legs so you turn to him. As you look at his expression, you feel your heart shattering into tiny pieces. He seems so lost.

“I can’t do this anymore. I see you struggling, I can see you’re scared! You’re not yourself. And the fact that you don’t let me in… Trouble…” He places both hands on your legs, his face inches from yours, and you don’t want to pull back. “I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you, you know that, don’t you?”

You nod slowly. It would be so easy to tell him everything. He’s right, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, you know that. “But what about you?” Your voice sounds small, almost as if you speak in a low volume your stalker won’t be able to listen.

“What about me?” Your hands raise on their own as you cup his face, your thumb tracing lazy patterns on his cheeks as your heart thumps incessantly against your chest. 

“Who’ll protect you, Zo?”

Zoro’s eyebrow raises, and he tilts his head slightly, as if struggling to understand your question. Then he smirks, that mischievous smirk that makes your stomach flutter, and places his hands on top of yours, squeezing tight. 

“I don’t need protection, Trouble.”

How you want to believe him. It would be so simple: someone’s stalking me; I’m being watched; I’m scared.

Any of those sentences could work. Zoro would go full protective mode and never leave you alone. You can do this. You can.

He’s right. He’s strong, and he’s a cop. He doesn’t need protection. He’s Roronoa Zoro.

“I–” But, obviously, it can’t be this simple. As soon as you open your mouth, your phone buzzes and buzzes and buzzes again. 

You know it’s him. So you instantly tremble and before you get the chance to grab the phone, Zoro’s hand shoots to your pocket and he fishes it out. Your knees weaken as you gasp.

He’s going to find out everything.

Zoro’s eye falls on the screen of the buzzing phone, and his eyebrow raises again.

Then he sighs and passes you the phone. “Your dad is calling. You should pick it up.”

Zoro gets up as you pick up the phone, not exactly knowing if you should feel relieved, or upset that it wasn’t your stalker. “Hey, Dad!” You try to sound cheerful, but it’s so, so hard. Especially when Zoro’s leaning against the kitchen counter, legs and arms crossed and a scowl on his lips, like he was expecting to see something else on your phone.

“Hi, Bug! What's up?”

You chuckle slightly. “What do you mean? You called. What’s the news?” God, you miss your father.

“I called? No! You called me, Bug.” He chuckles as if you’re spewing nonsense. You’re about to contest because you were in the middle of an important conversation when he called, but then you bite your tongue as your eyes widen in realisation. 

This was the stalker’s doing.

Somehow he orchestrated this call just to interrupt your moment with Zoro. This realisation makes your blood turn cold. What else is he manipulating in your life?

What else can he do?

“When are you coming home, Dad?” You can’t disguise the anxiousness in your voice, and Zoro immediately picks it up. He straightens and starts walking towards you again. 

“Oh, I’m not sure, Bug. I had the trip arranged for Monday, but the business is still going really well! I’m not sure how this is happening, but the fair is already over, and we’re still having meetings with buyers!” 

Is this being orchestrated, too? Just to keep Shanks away? Just so you’re alone?

Your heart thumps harder and harder against your chest as the feeling of being trapped returns tenfold. 

“That’s good.” Your voice is small and timid. All you want to do is tell your dad to rush home. You need this nightmare to be over. But then again, is Shanks being home really going to stop whatever the stalker has planned for you?

You highly doubt it. It will probably just endanger your dad. 

“Got to go, honey. Thank you for calling, I’ll let you know when I’ll be heading home soon, okay?” You mumble in agreement. You didn’t call. And you doubt he’s going to come home any time soon. 

You finish the call, and though Zoro looks like he has a lot more to say, he just tells you to eat, and this time you do. This call was a veiled warning. No talking to Zoro about the stalker. 

No one is safe.

-*-

Zoro doesn’t leave, but you shut down again. He helps you with the chores, and you can see him struggling to hold his tongue back. It’s like he decided to change his approach from outright interrogating you to giving you time and space so you can talk to him when you feel ready to.

Though you know Zoro is not a patient man, so who knows how long this is going to last.

Besides, even though you wish for nothing more than to tell him all that’s going on, are you willing to risk it? With not only Zoro’s safety on the line but clearly your dad’s too?

Your phone keeps buzzing in your pocket, and it takes a bathroom break for you to read the disturbing texts.

Unknown: Don’t you think he’s overstaying his welcome? Unknown: Kitten, things will go very, very wrong if you keep indulging him. Unknown: Tell him to go home, or I’ll make him go. And you won’t like it.  Unknown: I’m losing patience with you. Don’t test me. You KNOW what I’m capable of.

“Zoro.” You’ve finished your morning chores, and Zoro is washing his hands in the kitchen sink. Your heart feels heavy, and you don’t want to do this. “You can go now. I’m going to rest a bit more, maybe do some reading…”

“I’m not leaving.” He simply states. “Nami’s birthday party is later, or have you forgotten? What’s the point in leaving when we’ll just have to meet later? I’ll stick around and help.” He scoffs as he cleans his hands on the dish towel. “I really want to see what excuse you’re going to use next instead of the ‘I’m tired’ one, since I’ve been helping you all day.”

Shit. He really wants to get to the bottom of this, doesn’t he?

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. 

“Nami’s birthday party! Damn it.” It’s a good thing you had already ordered Nami’s gift about a month ago because you didn’t even remember the party was today. Heck, you still haven’t said anything to her, maybe you should call? “We’ll meet there, Zo. There’s no need to stay here.”

“You’re pushing me away again.” He says bluntly, an annoyed expression on his face, and takes a step towards you as if to prove his point. 

You take a step back, shaking your head and hitting the kitchen chair as you do so. With a curse, you keep shaking your head.

Bzzzz. 

“I’m not.”

“Bullshit.” Zoro steps forward again, closing the distance. “I’ve tried asking, I’ve tried to give you time. I’m all out of options, Trouble. I thought you trusted me. What’s going on?” Though his voice is gruff and rough, you can perceive the worry hidden underneath. 

You shake your head again, your steps taking you away from him until you hit the counter and stop. “Nothing’s going on. I keep telling you that.”

“Bullshit.” Another step and he’s right in front of you. “Let me in.” He sounds softer now, and you almost crumble. Your fingers twitch as you struggle to keep your hands pressed against your thighs, when all you want to do is hug him. 

“Zo…”

“Just tell me! Whatever it is, I can help you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

Your hand reaches for your pocket instinctively, but this time, it’s not your phone that’s buzzing.

“Fuck!” Zoro sighs and steps back, reaching for his phone. His brow arches when he sees the caller ID, and he picks up the call. “Cap?”

You can hear the gravelly voice of Captain Mihawk on the other side of the line, but you can’t make out the words he’s saying. 

“A bomb threat? What?” Zoro tenses, his muscles clenching as his eye searches yours, and you can see him struggling. “Yes, I’m busy, damn it.” He sighs again, running a hand through his unkempt hair. “I’m on my way.”

Then, he turns off the call. “Grab a bag, you’re coming with me.”

A gasp stays lodged in your throat. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. “What?”

“I’m not going to leave you here alone when you’re clearly scared, even though you don’t want to tell me what it is. You can stay in the car, or I’ll drop you at Nami’s. Come on.”

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. “No.”

Zoro’s face turns away from his cell phone just to stare into your eyes. “Trouble?”

“I’m fine.” You’re not. But you don’t think the bomb threat is a coincidence, and you’re scared that if Zoro takes you away from this house, he will hurt him. And you can’t have that.

“It was not a question. Let’s go.” Although his tone brooks no argument, you can’t heed him. 

“Zoro, you can’t tell me what to do.” Your voice nearly trembles, and you will all your power to stay strong. “We’ll meet later.”

Zoro’s phone buzzes again and he curses at whatever he reads on the screen. “Trouble, come on.” He extends his hand your way and you cross your arms, because all you want to do is take it and never let go. But your phone buzzes once more. 

“We’ll meet later.” You’re supposed to sound assertive, but you just sound afraid.

Zoro takes another step forward, his hand trembling slightly in the air as he waits for you to accept it. He looks at you in disbelief, almost trying to break your will with his look alone.

And damn it, if it isn’t working.

Just take his hand, ask for his help… it would be so easy. Let go…

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

“What?” Zoro answers his phone with an angry growl, and this time you can make out the words Captain Mihawk utters, as they are also angry ones.

“Get your ass in the car and onto the site, Officer Roronoa, now. This is your first and last,verbal warning.”

Zoro turns off the phone as his jaw clenches and unclenches. He strides into the living room, grabbing his jacket and car keys, and then he strides back to you again. “You get dressed and go to Nami. I don’t want you all alone, okay?”

You nod, not wanting to commit verbally to something you already know you’re not going to follow. 

“Trouble…” He sounds so exasperated that your heart constricts further, so you take a step forward, grasping his hand in yours and holding his gaze, completely ignoring the warnings from the buzzing of your phone. 

“I’ll be fine, Zo. We’ll meet later.”

Zoro groans as his phone starts to buzz again, then, without any kind of warning, his hand grips your nape, fingers tangling with strands of your hair, and he pulls you into an unexpected kiss. 

It’s sudden, desperate, and all-consuming. He grunts and you groan, and for a few seconds all you can think about is how perfect his mouth fits against yours.

And then it’s over. 

“Later then.” He says with a raspy voice as he rushes out the door. You’re still feeling light-headed from the abrupt kiss when another buzz rattles your nerves. 

Unknown: If you thought I was mad before, Kitten, you have no idea how furious I am right now. Unknown: You WILL be punished.

-*-

You spend most of the day in a haze of terror. You know it was him who made that bomb threat. So, if he did that, what is he really capable of? He hurt Lucci and the clerk boy, and they meant nothing. What will he do to Zoro?

You don’t even consider your punishment to be anything other than that. That’s where he’ll hurt you most: through Zoro, and you bet he knows it.

After you received the text saying you’d be punished, your phone stayed eerily silent again. 

You take that opportunity to change phones for an older one you still keep around. It’s just an older version, slower, but it still works perfectly.

Even if it only stops the creepy texts, it’s already something. 

You need to find a way to stop him. And the more you think about it, the more you come to the conclusion that you need Zoro’s help. You can’t keep pushing him away. Maybe, if Zoro tells Captain Mihawk of what’s going on, he’ll be safe. 

There’s nothing safer than police protection, right?

So, you’ve made up your mind. You will say something to Zoro, even if it's in writing. You’re done cowering in fear, it’s time to stand up.

-*-

You go to Nami’s early, and you think that changing phones is working because you left the house and no text came through. Your chest feels lighter, and you can even breathe better. Zoro texted a while ago to check in on you, saying he’s fine, but the case is a mess and that he’ll explain later. 

You can’t help but feel like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and you’ll finally be free. You just know it. 

“You look better, sweetie!” Nami exclaims after a while. You’ve been smiling, joking, trying to be cheery. It’s her birthday, and you don’t want to be a bummer. The unease in your stomach is still making you queasy, but your terror will soon be over. You know it.

“Zoro kissed me.” You blurt out with a small chuckle, wanting to share a piece of happiness with your friend, almost as if it were meant to restore a sense of normalcy. Then, you sigh and tremble slightly. The stalker texts are still haunting you, even though you decided to fight him. 

“Finally!” Nami exclaims with a laugh. “The pining was getting pathetic.” She hugs you and pats your head. “I’m happy for both of you, I really am!”

It takes another hour before Vivi meets you both at Nami’s house, and you all leave for the restaurant to meet your friends. Then, it takes another fifteen minutes of lively chat inside the car before you reach the location. 

It’s not until you set foot in the restaurant that your phone buzzes. 

You reach for it with a small smile on your lips, thinking it’s Zoro. 

It’s not.

Unknown: You think you can get rid of me just by changing phones, Kitten? You’re really going all out, aren’t you? Playing with your fate… with the cop’s fate… Unknown: It’s okay, Princess. You’ll learn. I’ll make sure of it.  Unknown: You’ll soon find out where you stand and what you get from defying me.

-*-

Zoro calls Nami, saying he won’t make it to dinner, but he’ll meet you all at the club. When she asks if everything’s alright, he assures her it is. They just got delayed. So, after making sure he’s fine, Nami says he’ll have to cover the drinks tab at the bar to make up for missing dinner. 

Zoro ends the call without answering, and the smile that curves your lips is a bit strained now. The longer Zoro’s away from you, the more your resolve falters. You need him near you, that’s the only way for you to be strong. 

You spend dinner in a dichotomy of feelings. You either feel happy and excited to be with your friends or uneasy and stressed because Zoro is still away, and the stalker’s threats loom over your head. 

Even though you haven’t received any more texts after the last one, you can’t help the ominous feeling that he’s letting you enjoy a night of normalcy before he follows through with his threats.

When you all reach the club, your anxiety is through the roof.

The club is packed full, and music reverberates around you so loudly that it makes your chest thump and your ears ring. But Nami seems happy, and it’s her night. The group has a VIP table reserved for Nami’s party because Nami knows everyone, but you doubt the crew will spend much time there. The girls flock to the dance floor, Sanji follows with a silly grin and you offer to go get drinks from the bar for the remaining friends.

Zoro texted ten minutes ago, saying he’s on his way, and you’ve been rehearsing how you’re going to tell him. The music is so loud in here that you’re pretty sure you can talk to him without anyone hearing you. 

This is it. The nightmare is ending. You can wait a few more minutes. You’ve got this.

Reaching the bar with a small smile, you flag the bartender and order an array of drinks for you and your friends. The bar is completely packed, and the music is louder than at the booth you’re all in.

Still, you sense it.

It’s a prickle on your nape. A feeling of being watched creeps over you, and the little hairs on your neck stand up.

You’re still inhaling sharply, your senses on high alert, when you feel him.

He presses against your back, squeezing your front against the counter. His massive form dwarfs your figure as his arm wraps around your own, trapping it against your waist. A huge hand holds your wrist with such force that the bracelet you’re wearing bites into your skin, making you whimper. 

You want to scream, but his other hand wraps around your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, he doesn’t need to. The simple gesture is enough to exert his power over you and silence your voice. 

He’s massive. Bulky. Strong.

His hand grips your wrist tighter, and you close your eyes, already feeling tears pricking them. Then, his lips hover over your exposed neck, and he breathes against your ear. A low growl makes his chest vibrate against your back and you stifle a sob.

“Hmm… Kitten. You’ve been such a bad girl.” His coarse goatee hairs rasp your skin, as his voice rings low and velvety smooth. Somehow, it sounds oddly familiar, though you can’t quite place it. 

Your limbs lock as your breath leaves your lungs in heavy gasps. Terror has you frozen in place. You can’t scream, can’t flag anyone to help you. You’re completely at his mercy.

“And you know what happens to bad girls?” His hand grips your wrist tighter, and you know it will bruise. “They get punished.”

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache

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[threebea]

Tiny Obi-Wan and Yoda just sat down somewhere having extremely Old Man conversations.

Mace: ....

Obi-Wan: you cannot imagine the things I can eat. No problem. No stomach upset. The fact Dex hasn't opened his diner yet is a travisty.

Yoda: Decades in exile subsisting on frogs I have been.

Obi-Wan: Yes, but those are good for you.

Yoda: Desire cake I do. One hundred years too late for it we are. Rubbing it in you are.

Obi-Wan: Well there must be some silver linings. The knees are nice too, but I can't reach anything.

Yoda: hmph, perspective you have gained perhaps?

Obi-Wan: not at this height.

Yoda: (laughs and gives him gentle whack with his cane) lost your cheek you have not, Master Kenobi

⭐

Obi-Wan: (notices Mace) oh, Master, please join us.

Mace: ... (Sits down)

Obi-Wan: (Sighs like an old man) I must say I'm glad not to be on the council at the moment. Have you read my proposal on Hutt investments portfolios? I know you're busy with Xanatos' nonsense, but if we move soon we could prevent Jabba from gaining ground in thirty years.

Mace: you should be learning how to mix colours with paint, not sending me paperwork in the middle of the night, Master Kenobi.

Obi-Wan: (gestures to neat paint pallet with colours mixed) I already know how to do that.

Yoda: doubt that I do. Knowing is not understanding.

Obi-Wan: that doesn't even mean anything. You can't tease me just because I'm small now.

Yoda: size matters not. Tease you I always will.

Obi-Wan: well that's true (eye roll)

Mace: I have enough paperwork Kenobi. Stop sending me paperwork.

Obi-Wan: well I would send it to another Master, but you're the only one that knows of my predicament and you won't let me use your name, and Master Yoda has always been awful with written proposals, no one would believe it.

Yoda (has brought out the paints Obi-Wan had with him and has started mixing colours)

Mace: Master you can't just mix paint on the tile!

Yoda: fear the mess it will make, hmm?

Obi-Wan: you're impossible. (Starts doing it as well) I never enjoyed making a mess, even at this age.

Yoda: fear of the future that is.

Obi-Wan: here he goes.

Yoda: to live in the moment, without fear of the mess of the future, that is the way of a Jedi.

Mace: (watches the two of them paint pictures on the ground. It's a complete mess)

Obi-Wan: I don't fear the future.

Yoda: hah!

Obi-Wan: I'm stressed! Stressed isn't the same thing as fear.

Yoda: come from fear stress does. Anxiety. Make a cloud you should.

Obi-Wan: (examines his tile of art work, adds a cloud)

Yoda: stress Master Mace has trouble with too. (Pointedly looking at Mace who is just watching the mess unfold)

Mace: (sighs, takes the hint, sits on the floor and dips his finger in the purple Obi-Wan mixed) I have many things to do.

Yoda: but right now you are painting.

Mace: I can't tell if you're both being serious or messing with me.

Obi-Wan: it can be both, Master. (Makes a face) I'm going to have blue hands for a week.

Mace: have you always been anxious, Master Kenobi? You always seem very confident and composed. It was eerie when we first met, seeing a child so poised.

Obi-Wan: yes, well I don't want anyone to know I'm anxious. Too many people rely on me.

Yoda: like someone else that is.

Mace: well... Right now you're at an age you don't need to be so independent.

Obi-Wan: I'm older than you are, Master. My crude matter doesn't reflect who I am inside. I can't just turn off my worries. It was easier in the end. In the desert... But it's hard to grasp now. I found my balance and peace, but in the here and now I find myself at odds with my knowledge. Every stray thought and memory of something that could be changed for the better.

Mace: changing the future is dangerous.

Obi-Wan: not changing it is more dangerous.

Mace: if you become obsessed you risk losing yourself. You need an anchor.

Obi-Wan: I know. (Focuses back on his painting) The future is always in motion. I am not changing anything. I am simply existing in the now. The ripples for good or ill can rarely be controlled or focused. However is it not my duty to follow where the Force has led me and do good?

Mace: ... (I feel very young suddenly)

Yoda: talk too much you do, Master Kenobi.

Obi-Wan: well it's been awhile since anyone has been kind enough to listen, Master Yoda. Force knows you don't have the attention for it.

Yoda: accuse me of senility do you? Focused I am on the present (gestures at his paint mess). Rambling on the old days you are.

Obi-Wan: who is the more senile? The old man or the old man that tries to talk to him?

Mace: (looking at the five year old who just said that. He has a splotch of blue paint on his cheek) no more proposals in the middle of the night, Kenobi. You'll get an ulcer at six.

Obi-Wan: (prim and proper) and when exactly did you get your first stress ulcer Master Windu?

Yoda: (laughs) twenty-two he was.

Mace: just paint.

Terrible Fic Ideas #3: Re-Entry, but make it Obi-Wan and Yoda

If you've not noticed by now, I'm the biggest sucker for Time Travel Fix-Its that ever existed, and one of my absolute favorites is the Re-Entry series by the ever-wonderful flamethrower. In that series, post-RotJ Obi-Wan and Anakin are sent back to 4 years before TPM to save the Republic, and it's an absolutely wonderful ride. But one thing I've always wanted is Yoda to be thrown back in time in one of these fix-its.

Imagine it:

Yoda is the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order. He has the ability to make lasting changes to the order in a way that young Padawan or newly knighted Obi-Wan alone couldn't. He's also had ~25 years alone in a swamp without even the passing human contact Obi-Wan got on Tatooine to reflect on all the things that went wrong, and stuck around as a Force Ghost at least until TLJ.

Not that I imagine TLJ happening in this AU - to kick it off I imagine Luke not managing to make it off the second Death Star after Anakin dies, and Anakin and Leia's anguish in the Force managing to hurl the watching Force ghosts into the pasts, where they can keep Luke's death from ever happening.

And so you have Yoda and Obi-Wan being thrown back to, say, 52 BBY. Obi-Wan, now only five years old, wakes his crechemate's up with a "vision", and for decades afterwards the younglings swear that on certain nights you can year an echo of absolute and complete anguish in the Force.

But the end result is the same: 5 year old Obi-Want has his memories of the next 52 years alive and 4 additional years of being a Force ghost. The transition is somewhat less abrupt for Yoda, who is 800+ at this time.

Unlike Re-Entry, the only one Yoda and Obi-Wan tell (at least at first) that they've traveled through time is Mace - and only then because Obi-Wan is very obviously not a normal 5 year old anymore. (And even then it's more of an accident Mace finds out. Instead Yoda just sort of pushes Mace at Obi-Wan "to help him get a handle on his visions and train him in the ways of the Force", and in the end Mace finally puts two and two together after sort of assuming he's just going crazy or being punked.)

Actually, confused!babysitter Mace is half the drive for this plot bunny. He's so confused and Yoda is being even more of a troll than usual, and he's not prepared at all to deal with such a small child, but honestly half the time it feels like Obi-Wan is the one taking care of him, and just so much confusion.

Together, between Yoda being the Grandmaster and Obi-Wan's weaponized cuteness as a youngling, they are able to prevent some things that contribute to the fall of the Republic. (Galidraan et al).

Obi-Wan is taken as Mace's Padawan fairly young, and no one really considers it too be too odd how good he is so young given that Mace was his Master and Yoda's been his mentor since the creche, but he's definitely considered to be an odd child. As one might expect of a ~60 year old being suddenly stuffed into his 5 year old body. When it eventually comes out that he's a time traveler, it answers a lot things people didn't realize they were questioning.

But mostly confused!babysitter Mace, troll!Yoda, and baby!Obi-Wan.

As always, feel free to adopt the bunny. Just link if you end up doing anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[h-sleepingirl]

Dolly in the Art Gallery: A Charmed 2025 Scene Log/Recap

“Art is how we decorate space, and music is how we decorate time.”

I first heard this Jean-Michel Basquiat quote in a rope class from Barkas, in the context of how we play within both space and time in a kink scene. I think about it frequently, especially as I feel more and more passionately about the brutally human impulse to create art.

I have been coming to hypnosis events since 2013, before Charmed existed -- my first event was packed with my own manic energy, held in a dungeon where people could hypnotize me basically at will. No hotel staff, no sneaking back to a private room. I developed a reputation as an aesthetically pleasing subject, often put on display in subtle and overt ways.

I have grown up in this community. Essentially my entire adult life has been spent involved in going to events and cons. I'm 33 now, and as Charmed celebrates its 10th year I've perhaps been unconsciously influenced to reflect on myself aging.

I feel so much older than that 21 year old exhibitionist. I'm more reserved, quieter, more selective, and certainly smarter. I like who I'm becoming, but I do miss parts of who I used to be -- that confidence, that energy. 

On Friday evening I looked at the schedule and saw there was going to be a Gallery of Living Art -- it's been a staple at Charmed for a number of years, but I'd never done more than peek inside.

I thought to myself: “Why not try to get in touch with that playful younger self? Why not show everyone who I am nowadays? Why not live out a fantasy?” 

Surely I’m not too old. Surely I haven’t grown out of this.

The time comes and I connect with my partner about it. He knows that one of my absolute favorite things is being totally frozen. We decide against anything complicated. No one will touch me or trigger me or anything like that. It’s the most “negotiating” we've maybe ever done, but I still leave all details to him. I tell him: “I was really just thinking this is an opportunity for me to sit blank and still for a long time.”

We walk into the room, and it’s overwhelming. People are setting up intricate exhibits with lots of creative interactions. There is a sheet we need to fill out to describe what our “art” is, which my partner writes on cryptically.

“Dolly can't talk. Duh…”

“Dolly is precious -- don't touch!”

Under “Artist”, where he is meant to put his name, he writes a question mark.

I am so in love with him, watching his mind work on the spot.

We find a place in the loud room and look at each other. We are a fluid force of nature in a bed together, spontaneous and wild. This planning doesn't feel like us. This hypnosis isn't a formality, per se, but it just feels sort of like “We both know how this is going to end on some level -- so how do we spend this time?”

He gingerly removes my name tag and starts murmuring to me. 

Being a dolly is such a luxurious treat that the moment he suggests it, I crumble, gripping his shirt with my weak little fingers, moaning too softly to be heard by anyone but him.

He poses me. He fixes my gaze blank and forward. He lets me practice standing and sitting. This kind of rehearsal is unfamiliar for us, and I almost relish doing something that feels a little awkward.

I am a dolly when he leaves me, frozen and posed, but I know it is going to take a couple minutes to settle in. I am a dolly getting comfortable, a dolly with twinges of self-consciousness. After a couple minutes he walks me over to a different chair, one that is highlighted by empty space around it, and I sit, and I know this is truly where I am supposed to be on display.

Finally, total stillness rushes over me like pure relief. 

I sit, and I stare, and I don’t do anything else. My mind is blank, and sometimes all there is inside my head is “I’m a dolly, I’m a dolly,” in my little dolly voice. It is pure, simple bliss.

People begin to come up to me to look at me. I am a good dolly and I am silent and I do not move even my eyes. They patiently read my sign and then observe me. I cannot change my body position to be any more or less appealing to them, I cannot hide nor flaunt myself.

Some people say things to me, little compliments and appreciations, and I can’t really process their words. The little dolly voice in my head screams in pleasure when I’m spoken to and given attention.

I have ADHD, I’m addicted to my phone, I’m a fidgeter. But there is nothing that carries the unique pleasure of being frozen and still. It reminds me of Quaker meetings, of spiritual silence and meditation that makes one feel time itself as though it has a sensory texture.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel talks about the Jewish sabbath as proof that it is not intuitive for us to sanctify time. But nevertheless as Jews we must learn to do it to make shabbat holy every week. Shabbat is “a cathedral in time,” he says, and I’ve been thinking about how much that applies to my experience of hypnosis. Hypnosis is not a physical object. We may sometimes have props but we cannot touch trance and it leaves no marks. It is time that is the sacred dimension in hypnosis, the time that we set aside (“kadosh” in Hebrew) with another human being.

Heschel says we are slaves to space and material things. And in this moment I feel like I have gotten as close as I can to releasing that. I am not even moving my physical body within the physical world. I am just relishing each passing second of stillness, building my cathedral in time.

Of course, sometimes I think sacred space and objects are very important. After all, I am in a space that is incredibly rare, that only exists very briefly, that I had to travel at length to get to.

And I am an object -- art -- inside of it. I am literally decorating the space, as Basquiat would say.

Am I thinking all of this as I sit there motionless? No, not with any sophistication. I truly feel blank. But I am feeling flashes of this as abstract mental sensations that I will untangle later.

Something else strikes me very quickly that I observe within. When people walk up to look at me, something inside me tenses up. I realize that I am unconsciously preparing myself to talk to them. I have been coming to cons for so long, and especially since beginning to write books I always meet a ton of new people every year who come up to me to talk, which I adore. But right now I am in a space where I literally cannot have a conversation with anyone. I don’t even have my nametag on anymore -- my partner was so clever to remove it.

It is the opposite of vending books, where I sit in a chair and am helpless in the sense that I must engage in conversation with the people who come up to meet me. Now, I literally cannot talk to anyone, and they cannot talk to me, and most people may not even know who I am.

It is a hit of extreme objectification, more real than it has ever felt. I am not sleepingirl -- I am a dolly. “Who” I am doesn’t matter. I am art.

My partner also is not sitting there receiving compliments for me. He is nearby, in eyesight, just watching. But he’s anonymous too. And there is something about this mutual anonymity that makes me feel even prouder about us as a couple. There is no performance of who we are. I don’t know how to describe it, but obviously it feels more authentic than public play usually ever does. Like a little secret we are sharing a corner of.

And he looks ever the artist, sitting back and watching me. I feel very strongly that this little scene isn’t the art -- it’s me. Our relationship is what’s really on display. All the work he’s done over 7 years of brainwashing me, real work on my personality and identity, my wardrobe, every single way I express myself and who I am. The people coming by are seeing his bimbo, his dolly, his [x] -- without necessarily knowing who either of us are.

The rhythm is addicting. My mind babbles my self-given dolly mantra over and over, I luxuriate in the stillness, and I stare. I only can sort of half-see with darkened vision, though my eyes are wide. I love when people notice me sitting there -- their expressions change as they observe me. They step into my metaphorical space, which is eerily silent compared to the revelry of the creative demonstrations that fill the room. They are no longer “being entertained,” and no one can communicate to them what I am doing -- they must engage with me out of their own curiosity.

Sometimes they decide to talk to me. I can’t process most of it, but I remember a few interactions.

Someone says, “What an excellent dolly.”

Someone else notices that I’m wearing a bracelet that says “bimbo,” and says, “Even the details on this one are exquisite.”

Someone else says, “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen sleepingirl play before.”

That last one hits me in the gut with memories of a time now long past: Play in public spaces was universal at cons; I couldn’t move from one place to another without someone dropping me into trance; absolutely everyone knew what I looked like when hypnotized.

Even now as I am on display, I have a mask on, and the people can’t see my gently parted lips.

It is a rush of emotion that is very complex for my simple little dolly head, but it goes away.

For a long while, I just exist as a thing in bliss while the room -- the whole world -- bubbles with activity around me. 

Eventually even as I sit frozen and blank, a little timer starts ticking in my head -- I could sit here for much longer, but I don’t want to make him wait for me, and I have other things I want to do tonight.

Reading Heschel has been helping me release some of that odd panic that bubbles up when I awaken from trance -- the feeling that magic is slipping through my fingers, memories are slipping out of my mind, and I can take no memento from it. I sometimes write, draw, or make music to try to capture the things I feel in hypnosis with my partner. I think it is from that impulse to be able to touch and hold hypnosis, to make it a “thing” in space as opposed to something of time.

But I do think there is something else, just a human drive to create art about this transcendent experience that we engage in together. I need to create art to try to communicate the perfect way I don’t move and my eyes go glassy. I need to express my emotions, my desires, my dreams, my love. I am only human, a human blown away by this very human thing we do that we call hypnosis.

Only my partner sees it, and he does see so much into the soul of it for me. But this is exactly what I have wanted -- a chance to publicly communicate the beauty of what he and I do. To make this art by performing it, living it. To engage in a human act of creativity by having my humanity stripped away from me.

I am a bimbo, a dolly, I am art -- and that doesn’t go away when I get up to tell him I am done sitting here. I am his art. I am a manifestation of his creativity in this world, and he has a beautifully creative mind which I love so dearly.

This is serious for me, this is real for me, this is so highly personal and jealously guarded as my own precious identity.

Ten years ago I laid my head on his lap and he transformed my eyes into dolly eyes and told me that someday he would turn my whole body into a dolly body. And as we laid together in a bed after the Gallery on Friday he talked about how I had those dolly eyes again in that room. But to me, it’s not about being a dolly, or even being a bimbo. It’s about creating art together, art with a power imbalance. And fucking respecting that as sacred and exciting.

I don’t have much else to say except extreme heartfelt gratitude to Mazirian for running the Gallery, and everyone who came by to look at me and said nice things to me and joined me in my world for just a little while. 

(If you’re curious, I was sitting there for about 30 minutes.)

[quarterlifekitty]

wifey here again with stepdad!Nik, so I think SD would insist on finishing college since she only has like a year left anyway and because she feels like she'll be able to get a job easier with a degree, she doesn't wanna be a burden. Nikolai ofc lets her finish college, it keeps her busy while at home, settling in nicely to their house. He takes care of her every need, and slowly starts to convince her that she doesn't owe him anything, she's his wife now, or soon to be at the very least. All she needs to do is stay home and worry about their little one. Anytime she has doubts about how much he wants her and wants to provide for her she gets reminded thoroughly. It's when SD's bump is getting noticeable that Nik really steps it up. "What if we both miss the important moments?" and SD eventually is like "yeah, okay, but if it ever becomes a burden I'll get a job" and Nik is real proud of himself. SD also becomes very needy, in just the way Nik loves, she wants to be with him as much as possible and needs help a lot because hormones are fucking with her. And she definitely thanks him plenty for his help whenever she can. Bonus NikPrice x SD reader John decides to visit Nik and his new bird since on their last mission Nikolai wouldn't shut up about her and he immediately gets why when he sees SD, she's so sweet and nurturing and she looks gorgeous all round with Nik's kid, stays a few nights and gets drunk one night and jokingly (sorta) tells Nik he'd love to put the next one in her and Nikolai just hums with a smile "why not?" and reader is suddenly being flirted with by her fiance/husband's friend. Is real worried about it cause she likes it and guility goes to Nik who is 1. Very pleased by her honesty and 2. reassures her and tells her that he's okay with it if she is. (Totally wasn't his plan to get his two favorite people together so he could have them both, nope, that's totally not why he raved about her to John and not one other soul. Mmhm)

Also im really sorry if once again this doesn't make sense, stress has got me by a chokehold lately and its making my brain bad lol

Ooooooh wifey you are killing me. Isn’t that the perfect solution, though? You’re so worried about being a burden, let’s bring in another source of income!!

You know. Maybe it’s kinda degrading. But I totally imagine Nik comes up with little tasks for her. Let’s be real, it’s so easy— he saw what her mother was like, he can see how starved she is for approval, it practically blinds her. Things like “I want us to get a new car with some more space before the baby comes— can you research what models are best for family? You have a better mind for things like that than me,” he says with an almost sheepish smile. You’re practically wagging your tail with excitement— and you just look so happy when you present all of your work and he seems so pleased with you.

Also, in a bit of darker move, I can imagine if you’re not as into John as all that— they come up with a story. They say that John wants to have a baby of his own, but he’s not married, and he wants to have a kid before he’s too old and his career gets in the way of romance. So he would love for you to be like a surrogate for him. You’ve done so well with this first pregnancy, and you’re still so young— plus! John would be willing to pay, so it’d be like you’ve got your own income to help out!

The only thing is that John believes in natural conception. And he wants to live with you both during the pregnancy to help out. And he doesn’t actually plan on leaving once you have his kid. And Nik knows how sensitive and caring you are— when you confess to him your doubts about giving the baby up for good once it’s born, he comforts you. Of course he’ll talk to John about it, milaya, he’s sure they can come to an agreement.

[stellarshifter]

✨ Pst? Y'okay? I saw you have a mental breakdown in the corner (Me too, babe, me too)

Agh...shiftok ruin your vibe? Spreading bullshit? C'mere. I got ya.

✨ BREAKDOWN OF MISINFO

1. "Your script might not all happen, or be in that reality."

Like huh???

Scripting, infallible, or meaningless?

Oh babies... Scripting is infallible. Wanna know why? It's literally a GPS for your awareness to shift to the reality that all of your chaotic (and probably very fun) notes are very real in! Like, c'mon, who would even script if it meant nothing like that???? I wouldn't waste my precious time... I could be looking at vintage shops around town. Like seriously, no.

2. "You need a method to shift"

Bitch please. Do I need to astral project and beat your ass? I'll do it. Don't test me.

Look, methods are fun and all. But that's it! They're fun and can help you become aware! But that's all they are. You don't have to even to work on your subconsious. Know why? That bitch ain't catching a ride with you! You just gotta be aware. Just shift your focus.

3. "You gotta stay hydrated.." bleh bleh I don't even remember the rest.

Bullshit. Sure you should stay healthy and hydrated for you! But that's nothing to do with shifting. This vessel's priorities don't matter in terms of shifting or not!

4. "You can't age up/down that's immoral!"

...I need a minute... I dont wanna commit arson.

Who the fuck thinks they're so intilted to tell others what they can't shift to be?? You need to fucking chill. Aging up or down doesn't matter because you are literally shifting to a reality where you're that age. You will have that mentality unless you script you don't. For fucks sake, stop.

5. "You can't shift to where you're a different ethnicity/gender/sexual orientation, that's disgusting"

Again... who gave you the right? Hm? I'll wait.

Unless you're being a weird fetishist creep. Then you're good, babe. And for all of this, once again. There's infinite realities where you're all different enthcities, genders, and sexual orientations. There's nothing wrong with shifting there either!

6. "Respawning is unethical"

Okay, this started due to people misunderstanding respawning as something it is not! It is not suicide. You people need to chill on TikTok. Swear to god you fear mongers!

Respawning is just cutting ties with this reality. Which lets be honest? In its state? For the love of God, me too, honey. Me too. The only difference between respawning and permashifting is that you'll never remember this reality. There's no harm. Okay?

7. "Permashifting is not okay"

As a permashifter, fuck you. You intilted bitches spewing bullshit because you come from different circumstances.

You have no clue what people are going through, and even if they live perfect lives, you are 1000000% valid permashifting. Go home, babies. You deserve it!

8. "Shifting shouldn't be used for escapism"

Look most of us were day dreamers? Right? Right?

I was a kid with a WILD ASS imagination. I mean wild, and I come from a not so cool environment. I used shifting as escapism when I first started. And y'know what? That's okay! If you are just wanting to leave to get a break! Do it! No one can stop you. There's no shifting police.

Which..gets me to this one.

9. "The shifting police will find you"

Bitch please. Shut up. My brother in christ, what fanfic you reading?

Shifting police do NOT exist (unless you want them to. You do you)

Seriously no one. I mean no one, not even me. Not even the holiest of holiest can stop you. We live in a multiverse that does not run by morals set up by shiftokers. And no if you do something questionable the shifting police will not find you. You're safe. I promise

10. "You can get stuck in your DR!"

If we can shift to our DR we can shift again. Like what? Who let this toddler type? That doesn't even make sense.

Honey, I can assure you, you're not stuck here. You're not stuck there.

11. "You can't script relationships that's against their free will!"

Have you ever heard of infinite realities where every single thing you can ever think of exists? Yeah? Then STOOOOOP

You are shifting to a reality where those relationships exist! Where that relationship is real and mutual. Where they feel so much love for you as you do them. No forcing.

Now, if you're holding them in your basement, tying them to a chair and begging them to love you forcefully like you're in a yandere wattpad fic from 2013? Yeah, you need to rethink some things. But if not! You're good!

Whatever relationships you script are requited

12. "Your DR isn't as real as this one"

Woooo, imma throw hands. Let's go. Someone hold my hoops for me? I'm gonna beat a bitch up.

YOUR DR IS A REALITY!!!!!!

Meaning it is just as real as this one. Just as real, maybe even more real! The people are real. The places are real. The experiences are real!

13. "People shift based on genetics"

Aw yes... my new favorite reason to murder.

Anyone and their mama can shift. You can shift, I can shift, the person you randomly saw on the street can shift, fuck your pet can shift. Anyone can. Okay? We are all one. Pure awareness. That's what we all are.

None of that. We are not shifting based off anything but what we all are.

✨ That's all for today, folks. Take care, and remember, you've got this. Go shift, baby!

[sissylittlefeather]

So... I had this dream about Elvis.

It's a little blurry and my English isn't perfect, nos, but I can remember the important bits.

I (the reader, of you wanna write about it ;]) was working as Elvis's assistant and practically loved with him. There where some feelings between us and, eventually, we ended up in bed together. The things were getting heated up, he was rubbing himself through his pants and i was grinding against his thigh.. and just when things where going to get good...

I woke up.

Oh, sweet, sweet nonnie. Your fantastic dream sparked a whole thing for me. Please enjoy this fanfic that resulted from this ask:

Return to Sender

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, dry humping, thigh riding, p in v sex, unprotected sex, ejaculation

Word count: ~3.3k

Also decided to base it loosely on this gif:

You were so nervous in your interview that you actually knocked a cup of something off of his desk. As a result, you were pretty sure you did not get the job. But what you didn't know is that he found your stuttering and fidgeting endearing and when you bent over to clean up the cup you spilled, the view he got of your ass made his decision for him.

That's how you ended up as Elvis Presley's private secretary. It's 1959 and he gets so much fan mail these days that he can't manage it all himself. So, he hires you to help him out. He's pleased when you prove to be useful and supremely impressed when you show him that you can mimic his signature perfectly. Still, his interest in you is far from purely functional.

He's not sure how to go about making his first move, especially since you work for him and he'd hate to lose you. You're really quite effective, so he'll have to play this just right. He doesn't want to offend you and run you off for good.

Instead, he spends a lot of time watching you and smiling at you when you catch him looking. You can't figure out why he keeps looking at you. You're not dumb, not even naive really, but it still seems outside the realm of reality that he might be into you for more than your typing skills.

He tests the waters a little with some flirtation here and there, and you don't seem to turn him down, but you also don't seem to reciprocate. He confuses your nervousness with disinterest and tries to stay focused on the task at hand any time you're together. But as time passes, you get more and more comfortable with each other and eventually a kind of friendship forms between you. It's easy to bond as you laugh about some of the crazy things the girls write to him, but you really start to get close when he begins to talk to you. And not just about the letters. Without meaning to, he tells you about his loneliness, his fears, and how much he misses his mama. You're a good listener and he needs you more than he realizes.

Eventually, you get to the end of his time in the service and know he'll be headed back to the states soon. You're not exactly excited about seeing him go, but there's not much you can do to change it, so you take it in stride.

He's not so resigned, though.

If there's even the slightest chance that you might want him, he's not going to let the opportunity pass him by. The night before all of his big army-ending interviews, he asks you to come over. You assume he needs you to get through some letters or something before he leaves, but he has something else entirely different in mind.

“Hey, honey, thank you for coming over so late.” His voice is quiet, shy almost. The room is dimly lit and there's the faint smell of cigar smoke in the air. He sits in a large armchair, watching you as you stand in the middle of the room. You nod and tell him that you don't mind.

“You have some new letters that you need help with?” He shakes his head sheepishly, shifting uncomfortably in the chair.

“Not really. I just wanted to see ya before I leave.” You blink a few times, confused.

“I'll be there for the interviews tomorrow.” He nods. This is not a surprise, but he wants to talk to you without people around.

“Yeah, but…” He fumbles over the words, trying to say exactly what he feels. The hesitation is heavy in the air between you and it's almost as though the words get caught in his throat when he tries to speak.

“But what, Elvis?” You look down at him and he sighs deeply, drumming his fingers on his knee anxiously. Without warning, he stands up and walks to you, grazing his fingertips over your cheek gently. There's a moment of nothing but being between you and you see the conviction enter his eyes.

“Oh, fuck it.” And then his lips are on yours, soft and needy. At first, you're so shocked that you stand there with your eyes open and his mouth on yours. You can see his eyelashes where they settle on his cheeks and feel him breathing as his chest rises and falls so close to you. He pulls back and notices the look on your face. “No? Was that…?”

“Do it again.” A smile creeps across his face and he leans down and kisses you again. This time your eyes close and you melt into him. The taste of him on your lips is exquisite, something between mint and man, and it feels like you'll never get enough. He deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth, his hands drifting to your hips as he pulls you in close to him, your bodies flush against each other. You moan softly as his lips move down your jaw to your neck and his hands slips down to grab your ass through your dress.

“I've wanted this forever.” His voice rumbles against your throat. You feel his hardness where he presses it against you, the urgency in his hips becoming more obvious.

“Took you long enough.” A little giggle escapes your lips as his hands continue to roam your body, squeezing you where it pleases him. He takes your breasts in both hands and lets out a small whimper. The need for more of him burns inside of you, manifesting in the ache in your center. His cock is so hard it hurts as he rolls against you, tangling one hand in your hair to hold you still as he dips his tongue into your mouth again. You start to pull at his shirt as he walks you backwards through the house toward his bedroom, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible.

You fumble with buttons, fingers trembling in anticipation. All of a sudden, it seems like his shirt has a hundred buttons and you groan in frustration. He pulls back, chuckling and pulls it over his head, dropping it to the floor. In the hallway, he turns your back to him and puts your hands on the wall, dragging his down your back to your hips. The ache between your thighs is quickly becoming unbearable, your body burning up with the intensity of your need. His hands grip your hips as he ruts against you, his erection straining against the fabric of his pants. Then, you feel his lips on the back of your neck as he unzips your dress, pushing it forward off of you to let it pool at your feet. He turns you to face him, eagerly raking his eyes over you hungrily as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He takes a moment to really appreciate your body in just your underwear and bra.

“What?” You ask playfully, noticing the spellbound look on his face. He shakes his head a little, basking in the scent of your perfume as it mixes with the heat of your body.

“You're even more beautiful than I could've imagined.” He runs his fingertips down the side of your stomach and grips your hip tightly. The last ounce of inhibition leaves you and you grab the back of his neck, pulling his lips back down to yours. Every ounce of him hums with insatiable desire as his soft mouth moves on yours passionately. He pushes your back to the wall and presses his body tightly against yours, his thigh on your center. Without thinking, you start to rub yourself on his thigh, your body begging for friction against your swollen clit. He groans and starts to roll his hips against you. “Goddamn, baby. Don't stop that.”

Your hands slide around to his back as you pick up speed, grinding your clothed pussy on his leg.

“Oh god, Elvis.” A deep moan floats up and out of you as your aching bud reacts to the delicious sensation of his pants.

“Fuck, baby. That's a good girl. Make yourself cum on me.” He grips your hips and helps you rut against him, chasing your orgasm. The wetness seeps through your panties, soaking the fabric under you, but he doesn't care. He wants you to cum, needs you to cum, his hips stuttering against you as you rub on him.

“I'm s-so close.” It's more of a whimper than a sentence, but he gets your meaning. His grasp on your hips is almost bruising as you grind on him faster and harder. The familiar bubbling heat gathers in your lower belly as the sweat drips between your breasts. He captures your lips in a desperate kiss and then mumbles against you.

“Come on, baby. You're right there. Let go.” And then, like your body knew to listen to him, you cum on command, shuddering and trembling as the orgasm rushes through you, sending bolts of pleasure to your extremities. He starts to slow the rolling of your hips as you go floppy against him. “Good girl. So pretty when you cum.”

“Think I might've ruined your pants.” You whisper and he chuckles.

“They'll wash. Can you walk?” You look at him, your eyes hazy with your post-orgasm daze.

“Huh?”

“I'm nowhere near finished with you.” He smirks.

“I'm not sure-” You don't even get the sentence out before he bends down, throwing you over his shoulder. A squeal escapes your lips as he carries you to the bedroom and drops you unceremoniously on the bed. He turns on a small light on the nightstand, casting a kind of orange glow around the room. You look at him standing there, the small patch of hair on his chest, his angelic face, and the small wet spot where his dick has leaked precum onto his pants and continues to stand at full attention. He looks at you spread out on the bed and decides at that moment that he'd give you anything you wanted, even his last name if you asked for it.

“I need you, baby.” He palms himself over his pants and you nod, reaching back to unhook your bra. You slip it down your arms and drop it on the floor, moving to push your panties down your legs. He grunts when your pussy becomes visible, moving his hand on his cock a little faster. When you spread your legs, he bites his bottom lip and moans.

“What are you waiting for?” You coo. His eyes are glued to your glistening pussy as he quickly unbuttons his pants and lets them drop. Your mouth waters a little as his cock bounces free, big and uncut and weeping precum. He climbs on top of you, arranging himself against your entrance and taking one of your legs onto his shoulder.

“You ready for me, honey?” He asks desperately, rubbing his tip through your wet folds. You nod and he groans, slowly pushing into you. The feeling of his dick stretching you out is overwhelmingly good. Finally, he groans, his whole cock buried deep inside you, balls pressed against your ass, as he resists the urge to pound you silly. Your hands clench around the silky sheets and you breathe, trying to adjust to the feeling of him. He looks at you with his eyebrows knit together in concern. “You okay?”

“God, yes.” He smiles down at you and pulls his hips back, sliding his now-wet cock out of you and then rolling them forward again, plunging himself into you. Your eyes roll back and you moan loudly as he starts to pick up a steady rhythm of slamming against you. He kisses your ankle gently and fucks into you over and over again. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as the scent of your sex hangs in the air. Your breasts bounce with every thrust and he grunts, his release gathering in his balls. The headboard starts to bang against the wall and the little light on the nightstand rocks with the force of your lovemaking.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. Such a tight little pussy.” His hair is sweaty on his forehead and you revel in the smell of him as he wraps your leg around his hip and leans down to kiss you, his cock sliding in and out of you. In doing so, he shifts the angle a little and begins to rub against your g-spot. Now, you whimper and moan with every movement of his hips, clawing at his back as he pounds you. You devolve into just a body, soaking in each sensation: skin pressed together, sticky and wet, his tongue in your mouth, insistent and deep, and his cock filling your pussy up again and again. He does the same, sinking into the waves of pleasure, your tight heat wrapped around his dick, squeezing him just right. Everything is sensual as you mix together and quickly lose track of whose sweat is whose.

“Elvisssss…” You whine, another climax crashing into you and burning you up from the inside out. He moans with the feeling of your pussy tightening around him.

“Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum. Fuck. Gonna… oh fuck!” He pulls out of you at the very last possible second, shooting cum all over the inside of your thighs. His cock throbs and pulses and he collapses on top of you, sticky ropes pumping out of him onto your legs. When he finally finishes, he groans loudly and picks up his head, kissing your lips softly. You giggle and push his hair back off his forehead. He chuckles. “I made a mess.”

“Yes, you did. But I helped.” He laughs and kisses you again.

“Yeah, I'm gonna blame this one on you.” You giggle as he rolls off of you and fetches a washcloth from the bathroom to clean you up. When he's done, he crawls back into bed and pulls you onto his chest. “Stay with me?”

You look up into his eyes and it's obvious he doesn't want to be alone tonight. Honestly, you wouldn't leave him even if you could.

“Of course.” He smiles and nuzzles into your hair. You settle in to sleep with him wrapped around you.

***

When you wake up the next morning, he's already dressed in his full uniform. He moves around the room quietly, but he notices when you stir and smiles softly.

“Hey, baby.” You lift your head up and yawn, stretching.

“You're leaving?” He nods and then sits down on the bed to put his shoes on.

“Yeah, I have those interviews. You comin’?” Again, it's clear that he wants you there, so you nod back.

“Oh yeah. I just have to run home and get dressed, but I'll be there.”

“Good.” He leans in and kisses your forehead before standing up. You're still naked from your activities last night and he looks down at you hungrily. He pulls the covers down a little so that he can see your body. “Goddamnit. I hate to leave ya.”

You're not sure if he's talking about this morning or forever. You reach out and take his hand, kissing it gently and then placing it on your breast.

“Fuck.” He climbs into bed in his uniform and pulls you onto him, kissing you deeply and running his hands all over your body.

“Thought you had to go?” You ask between kisses. He groans and buries his face in your neck. The sweet scent of your sweat and sex lingers on your skin and he breathes it in, trying to commit everything about you to memory. He mumbles into your hair.

“Yeah, I do. Just wish I could keep you naked in my bed forever.” For a few more seconds, you just hold each other, trying not to think about the future. Then, he pulls away from you and gets out of bed. “I'll see you at the interviews.”

He turns and leaves before he can get back into the bed and stays there until he dies. You sigh and get up, gathering your things and getting dressed. Something is missing, though. You cannot find your panties anywhere. Sighing again, you check your watch. You don't have time to keep looking. At least he'll have something to remember you by.

******

At the interviews, you stand behind him sipping your coffee and watching. The press are snapping photos like crazy and the flash bulbs are almost giving you a headache. You wonder how he stands it. The room is filled with noise and people, but you can't take your eyes off of him. He looks better than he ever has before, but maybe that's because you've seen him naked and know how beautiful he is without clothes. Your eyes drift down a little and you think about what's hiding under his pants, rubbing your thighs together. And that's when you see them: your panties, just barely peeking out of his pocket.

Your mouth pops open, but you shut it quickly. That little shit. He stole your panties! And he has them with him!

You grab a pen and a scrap of paper and scribble out a note. Motivated by his boldness, you walk up behind him and then lean forward, slipping the note into his jacket. He looks up and realizes it's you, his heart stopping in his chest. Still, he plays it off for the press and keeps going.

However, the second he's able, he pulls out the note and reads it eagerly.

You thief. I see what you stole and I want them back! Call me before you leave.

He grins widely, kisses the note, and folds it up, adding it to the pocket where your panties are. His intention was only to keep them, but now his blood is pumping with the possibility of seeing you again. A thought hits him and he sits with it for a bit. By the time he gets home, he's determined to make it a reality. He picks up the phone and dials your number.

“Hello?”

“I'm not givin’ em back.” Your face breaks into a smile.

“You better!” He chuckles.

“Alright, you can have ‘em. BUT-” He pauses for effect and you just about die with anticipation. You hear him take a deep, steadying breath before he continues. “You have to come get them in Memphis.”

Your mouth drops in shock. You're not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn't that.

“In Memphis?”

“Yes. Come home with me.” His heart is in his throat as he waits for your response. He twists the phone cord around his finger and bites his lip. If only he could see your face. The suspense is killing him.

“Okay.” What else could you say?

“Okay?” He asks excitedly, standing up with the phone.

“Yes.” Your heart is racing, but there's nothing that important keeping you here. Not if he's asking you.

He does a silent fist pump and thanks God that you said yes.

“I'll come get you on my way to the airport. Pack to stay for a while. Like, forever.”

“Elvis…”

“Listen, baby. It took me a long time to find you. I'm not lettin’ you get away anytime soon. You gonna argue?” You think for a second about what you're agreeing to and then decide to take a leap of faith.

“Not at all.”

“Good. And baby?”

“Yeah?” He hesitates for a second, his nerves getting the better of him. Then, he just says it, unable to keep the words from tumbling out.

“I love you.” Your heart stops.

“I love you too, Elvis.”

******

The End

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy @angelriley222

[dark-and-kawaii]

You shiver as Oikawa pushes you against the storage closet wall, “I don’t think they’ll mind if I’m late to practice, do you?” His athletic body firmly against yours, your legs trembling as his fingers trail under your skirt.

Your breath hitches as he rubs you through your panties, the wetness making the fabric stick, “W-We shouldn’t do this here, T-Toru. We could get c-caught…”

He kisses along your jaw, nipping at the skin, his lips traveling over the sensitive skin of your ear, his teeth pulling gently at the lobe, “That just makes it more exciting, doesn't it, bunny? Be a good girl for me, tell me what I want to hear.”

“P-please,” you stammer, face flushed scarlet.

Oikawa's signature smirk widens as he leans in close, those long lashes batting at you, his nose brushing against yours, his hot breath on your mouth, his lips barely touching yours, “What happened to those pretty manners?” he taunts, making you squirm, “Beg properly for your captain.”

Your words dissolve into incoherent moans as he works you over thoroughly, his fingers teasing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, his long fingers slipping in and out of you with ease. Your hands claw at the wall behind you, the rough texture of it catching at your skin, the friction burning but not nearly as much as the heat pooling between your legs.

“Mn’Toru~ please, please, I want it, p-please fuck me~ aahhhnnn~” you whimper, the knot in your core tightening, the pressure building, the heat becoming unbearable.

“That’s it, just like that pretty girl,” Oikawa coos, his tongue dragging up the column of your neck, leaving a slick trail of saliva, “Say it again, come on, tell your captain what you want.”

His pace quickens, his fingers rubbing the spongy spot inside you, making your eyes roll back, “I-I want you to f-fuck me, please~ n’make it hard for me to walk, mmmhhaaa~ please, Captain~~”

Slipping another finger into your sloppy mess of a hole, your breasts press against his chest, the buttons of his shirt catching on your nipples, his other hand cupping one of your breasts through the fabric, pinching the tender bud between his fingers.

You let out a loud whine when you felt his fingers suddenly disappear from your needy hole. You were so close, just a little more.

“I should be late to practice more often,” he winks, admiring your thoroughly debauched state, his hand slick with your essence, his own pants painfully tight, his dick pressing uncomfortably against the zipper.

“T-Toru, don't tease me anymore, please I need it, I-I'll be good, I-I promise, p-please just fuck me already~” you huff, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, the desperation for him to fill you with his cock growing.

Oikawa laughs, a sound so pure and genuine it makes you melt. He loves how needy you can be, loves when you call him by his name so sweetly and call him Captain, it gets him every time, “alright, alright, bunny. How can I say no to a face like that~ you're lucky you're so cute, I don't know how I managed to keep my hands off you until now.”

You could feel your panties being pulled down and his hand on your ass, his fingers kneading the soft flesh, and then you feel the hard tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, your slick dripping down his shaft.

“Now, let’s see if we get caught.”

[madesa]

Do you have infantilism/age play headcanons for Wincest?

I like to think Dean is the biggest infantilism lover when it comes to his little brother (and only his little brother, by the way) like if you combine all of us infantilized Sammy lovers it would NOT be enough to compare to Dean (side note this turned out to be soft and comfy and cuddly so please spare me if it's not what you thought)

Right away, as soon as Sam was born, Dean knew he would never be able to shake this kid off. And in the future, when Sam is all grown and actually shaken off of Dean, Dean is like "oh god no oh god Sammy please come back to me💔 Sammy it wasn't you it was me💔" he misses his Sammy BAAADDD..which leads him to infantilize this big buff 6'4" guy who looks like he could throw tables and break people in half

From an outsider perspective, it's like this smaller guy taunting a much bigger guy and calling him "baby Sammy" (not just baby...baby is reserved for baby, Baby Sammy however, is different) and when they think Sam is leaning forward to absolutely punch the crap out of this smaller dude, he just plops his head on Dean's shoulder!! What!!

Sam only does the head plop move when he's extremely tired. Which is when Dean also (so very coincidentally) starts babying him lol

Sam, tired from a mission:

Dean: Awww hey baby Sammy come here, come here

Sam, subconsciously walking towards Dean because waw...that voice sounds so familiar...he only used it back then:

Dean smiling because his plan is working:

Eventually, Dean stops relying on missions to tire Sam out because he's only getting better and better at keeping his eyes open, and when he realizes baby Sammy won't come back if Sam isn't unconditionally tired, he starts doing...desperate things.

He buys roofies.

Well, he dare not call them roofies, in his head they're called sleep pills.

Dean is a monster...but he does have a heart (when it comes to his brother) so he only doses Sam up maybe half way, just enough that Sam feels like he's getting naturally sleepy and just enough that it kicks in quiet and slow.

As soon as he sees Sam's head trying to keep itself up while he goes through some random lore, Dean is by his side and it's so quick not even an angel teleporting can compete

Sam is going "uhh...huh?" And Dean is just like "Heyyyy Sammy!" he does a little shoulder wiggle. To. Act like he's talking to a baby. Sam likes how his shoulders move.

Eventually, after enough "Mmm, let's get you up big guy" and "wow, you're so much taller than before!" And "remember when you were just this short and you still called me Dee?" Dean ushers Sam into bed. While he's trying to take his leave, Sam's finger gets caught on the inside of Dean's sleeve and Dean stops.

"Dee...?" Comes from Sam.

And Dean gets so hard he thinks he did pass out, his body just stood him upright for the sake of not seeming like a creep.

He spins around and now, he's no longer Dean, he's Dee. The jerk looks like he could just get on his knees and worship those roofies so quick, but he doesn't. Instead, he sits on the edge of Sam's bed and asks "yes Sammy?"

Sam is having such a hard time trying to think, like it's getting to him, and Mmm..everything is so soft and cuddly and warm like when he was a kid and Dee really does still smell like before, you know, just with extra alcohol and bar stink.

"bedtime story?" He blurts out. Because Dee does that. Dean stopped doing it a real long time ago.

Dean softens and he feels like he might deflate, so he picks up the wizard of oz book Sam keeps on his bedside table and starts reading.

[tumblebagel]

FOR ALL TRANS PEOPLE IN FLORIDA

Hi. I've been meaning to make a post like this for quite a long time now. As a person who's been trans in this state for... a while, I felt like I could be helpful by posting my catalogue of knowledge.

I also need to apologize in advance. I need to give you the facts and the current policies before I can give you the hope that you're looking for. I promise, there is hope. I swear it. But being well informed is my first priority for you right now, because it's the only thing I can do to make sure that you, the reader, stay safe. Okay?

Do me a favor and take a deep breath before you hit “Keep Reading,” alright?

The Facts.

Florida's bathroom laws are fucked. If you hear the term "Safety in Private Spaces Act" that is the exact law fucking trans people over. It was passed in 2023, and people are not afraid to use it. It only DIRECTLY applies to public state-owned buildings. If you attempt to enter a bathroom that does not match your sex, and you are at:

A public school

A state owned library

A state owned govt building (city hall, etc.)

Then you can, and likely WILL be arrested.

If you are in ANY restroom on the aforementioned properties, and are presenting as gender nonconforming, OR you're presenting as a gender that doesn't match the restroom you entered, you may still face harassment, and the police being contact anyways, although they won't have grounds for arrest. It's very much a lose-lose situation.

As someone who's worked at a public library in Florida for the past 5 years now, you can take all of the information above as a first hand reference.

While the "Safety in Private Spaces Act" is only DIRECTLY targeted at state owned & public buildings, private property needs to be taken at a case-by-case basis. People can still call the police, and if you're not certain that the people who own the location will defend you, it can be quite risky. Here's a list of common stores & restaurants and stuff that have protection policies in place for trans people using the restroom there (AKA, the GOOD ones).

Target

Starbucks

Barnes & Noble

Chipotle

Sears

Whole Foods

There's also this site: https://www.refugerestrooms.org where you plug in your address, and it lets you know if there are safe restrooms nearby. I believe it also has an app? I've heard some concerns about how often it's updated, but a resource is a resource. Also ALWAYS be careful when inputting your data (including your location) online. Be sure that the site is secure, and trusted by other members of the community to, you know, not be shipping off your data to corporations or the current government.

You can also look for businesses with "family restrooms" which people might give you a weird look if you leave one alone, but more often than not they'll just assume whatever happened was simply too embarrassing for a public stall. Disney property is also surprisingly quite good at those with their "companion restrooms" you'll sometimes see.

On the exact opposite end of the spectrum, I've made plenty of use of shiiiiiiiiiiiiiitty gas stations in my day. As in gas stations so tiny and run down in the middle of nowhere that they simply CANNOT AFFORD a second stall. It ain't hygienic by any stretch of the imagination, but neither is the back of a police cruiser.

Last resort, and I mean LAST resort, is personal bathrooms in the houses of allies. If you have a trusted support group, and their addresses, congratulations, consider that your gender-neutral bathroom map. They're almost assuredly not convenient, but some days they're the ONLY comfortable places to go.

Trans people are twice as likely to get a UTI in their life as cis people, simply from trying not to use a restroom. So first and foremost, please please please stay safe out there.

Second order of note is HRT.

I feel the need to very explicitly say DIY HORMONES CAN BE VERY DANGEROUS. You need consistent bloodwork done to make sure your body is handling the treatment properly. In addition, improper dosage can lead to a bunch of awful symptoms, including tolerance to the medication. Please, work with a physician who can make sure you stay safe, don't do DIY unless it's your absolute last resort.

ITS ALSO VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE, that if you're a minor, you cannot begin gender affirming care in Florida, and if you are caught with it, Florida authorities have grounds to revoke your parents' custody. That is shit. I know that is shit. I was very recently a minor tearing my hair out trying to get HRT. While I'm now legally considered """an adult""", I still very very very much feel that pain. Comments are open if you'd like to scream a bit.

For people over 18, there are a bunch of additional restrictions in place for setting up care. First of all, with the informed consent model, you need to sign all of the paperwork *in-person* with the prescribing physician, which completely cuts out any Telehealth options. You'll also be pretty hard pressed to FIND a clinic willing to prescribe it.

I can't personally recommend Plume. I was on a several month long waiting list, only to have my appointment cancelled because a bill went into effect the week before I was supposed to go sign the informed consent paperwork. That being said, I know too many trans people here who LOVE Plume to denounce it. The pricing and services it offers sounds almost too good. The organization has helped a lot of people, so the most I can say is:

1: Do your research.

2: Don't feel tied down if it doesn't work out.

If you want to know how I, personally, started my care, I think it's now time to switch over from the Facts to the Hope.

The Hope.

Planned Parenthood.

I made my first appointment in South Carolina to try and circumvent that law that cancelled my Plume appointment. You'll want to do your research on what Planned Parenthood location you're going to, because not all of them provide the same services. That being said... worse case scenario... South Carolina really ain't too far away, as long as you've got a free weekend for a road trip there and back.

I'm getting off track, Planned Parenthood is amazing. The people there are REALLY nice. My physician very much has an "OH MY GOD YOU'RE GONNA LOVE IT" energy about her.

I scheduled my first appointment just a week out, though timing may vary now that a lot more pressure is being put on them. Hours after my first appointment I had both estradiol and spironolactone physically in my hands, and the biggest dorky grin on my face.

In terms of access, this is probably one of the BEST options at your disposal. Please be sure to do some research beforehand about appointment costs, and medication costs, especially since insurance REALLY isn't going to want to cover it.

Once you're ready, mentally and financially, the power to get GAHT is in your hands.

Also, now when I take their post-appointment survey, I can say "yes, I would recommend this location to someone else" :D

A lot of public universities have been implementing more gender neutral bathrooms, and can potentially even provide you a map of where they are on campus if you ask.

Name change forms are also easily accessible for most schools if you ask, both for social recognition with teachers, and digital changes in academic portals and websites.

While LGBTQ+ oppression hasn’t gone down, neither has our fighting. You’ll see more pride pins and flags than ever, especially in the cities.

If you need mental/emotional help or support, I can't recommend anyone more than the Trevor Project:

https://www.thetrevorproject.org

Their help hotline is entirely confidential. Life as a trans person is hella stressful, and living in Florida can make that a lot worse. Whatever you're going through right now, I can tell you that there are people ready and willing to accept you and care for you.

I've also gotten glowing reviews from my sibling about the Orlando Youth Alliance. If you're a trans minor in Florida, you may not be able to get HRT... but you can occasionally get a trip to Disney World.

https://orlandoyouthalliance.org

Lastly, if you're out and about in Florida, and you see a girl in a black-grey hoodie, a big chunky heart necklace, and 1/2 peach colored hair dye, feel free to go up to her and tell her "I like your shoelaces," and you can get a free hug, no questions asked.

Keeping Tabs.

I'm gonna do my best to keep updating this post as much as I can. I've assuredly forgotten something. News details and policy updates will be my main focus. If you think of something important you'd like me to add, please don't hesitate to let me know

[6rookie-writer0110]

Waiting for the sky to turn black

Wednesday Addams x Male Reader

Warning: Angst.

Request - Hey can you do Wednesday x Male reader Angst. Where Wednesday was too focused on the Hyde case and she neglected reader and their relationship and said reader was a burden and was too clingy every time he gave her unconditional love. The night she kissed Tyler she told him those things and he saw Wednesday kiss Tyler while Wednesday never even hugged reader? And so at the end she feels really bad because she saw he saw. And so she wanted to talk but he just stays quiet? Please and thank you

You never thought she would be your girlfriend and you always try to be the best boyfriend you can, she is your first love.

You are holding a box with food inside while heading to Wednesday’s room. You knocked on the door and Thing opened the door for you.

“Thanks. Hey, I got food for us. I figured you skipped a meal because of the case you are working on” You said.

You try to give her the food but she doesn't take it.

“I don't have time to waste. I have a case I need to solve” Wednesday said.

“It’s not a waste of time. You need food and energy, I know you didn't eat the whole day. And we haven't spent time together, please eat” You said.

Wednesday is feeling annoyed and bothered, but you don't notice it. She grabbed the box before you would say a word, she said something first.

“Leave you are a distraction,” Wednesday said.

That hurt your feelings and she didn't bother to open the box

“I thought we could eat together,” You said in a low voice

“Just leave, Y/N,” Wednesday said.

You just walk away now you feel bad about yourself. Wednesday throws away the food and gets back to her case. You go to your dorm room and you don't bother to say hi.

“What’s wrong?” Ajax asked.

“Girl problems,” You said

“What did she do this time?” Ajax asked.

“She didn't want to spend time with me and called me a distraction. She is still trying to figure out who is the Hyde. Why she won't let the police figure it out!” You said

“That’s cold. You should hang out with me and Enid, we are going to meet up with the others” Ajax said.

“I don't know,” You said.

“Come on, it will be fun,” Ajax said

“Alright let's go,” You said.

You go with the others to town. Your roommate is trying to cheer you up. You have been dating Wednesday for a few months now, you are still trying to understand her and the relationship. It's hard because she doesn't show emotions but she is honest. Ajax has been your roommate since the day when you arrived at Nevermore Academy.

———

Principal Weems is giving a speech at the school auditorium. She is talking about the new rules and not many students are happy with the new rules. You are sitting next to your girlfriend and her hands are on her lap. Wednesday see your hand moving slowly to hold her hand, but she moved her hand away. She didn't consider your feelings and that hurt your feelings but you don't say anything. You just look down at the floor while she looks at Principal Weems.

When it was over, you walked away from your girlfriend. You didn't say a word and she didn't say anything to you either. She went to the bee club out in the woods and you went to hang out with some friends for a while.

✫ ✬ ✯ ✬

Principal Weems to the students to the carnival. Again, you tried to hold your girlfriend’s hand but she rejected you. Ajax and Enid are standing next to you and Wednesday.

“I got cotton candy for you,” You said.

But she doesn't take it.

“This is pointless,” Wednesday said.

“Take a break from the case and enjoy the moment,” You said.

You were going to kiss her cheek but she moved away, and now you feel embarrassed.

“How about we go play some games?” Enid suggested

“Sure,” You said sadly.

You and the others went to play darts. Ajax goes first and you were going to put your arm around your girlfriend, but she moved away.

“Where are you going?” You asked

She walks away.

“Heading back to the dorm this is pointless,” Wednesday said.

“I thought we were having a good time,” You said.

“This isn't a good time and this is a waste of time,” Wednesday said.

Ajax and Enid are starting to feel awkward. You go after your girlfriend but she doesn't stop.

“I’m going alone, Y/N,” Wednesday said.

“We haven't spent time together in a long time,” You said.

She didn't say anything and she kept walking. You sighed and you started to feel sad and hurt. You used your ability of teleportation to be in your dorm room. All night, Wednesday works on the case. She knows she is close but she is missing something that she is trying to figure out.

————

You were waiting for Wednesday in her dorm room with Enid. She thought it was cute that you brought a gift for your girlfriend’s birthday. But Wednesday has been out all day and you didn't see her on time. Ajax came to the dorm room to Enid then he told you that he saw Wednesday at the coffee shop. You leave the gift on the desk by the typewriter then you use teleportation to head to the coffee shop.

“What she is doing in there at this time?” you said to yourself

You are getting closer than you see Wednesday with Tyler. When you opened the door, you saw them kiss and she didn't stop him. It felt like your heart stopped then he noticed you then she noticed you.

“Wednesday,” You said.

“Y/N what are you doing here?” Wednesday asked

“Are you serious? You didn't push him away, you won't even hold my hand or kiss me on the cheek but with him!” You yelled

“You are so clingy. You are a burden. When I'm around I feel suffocated, you are a distraction that's why i wasn't able to finish the case. When I'm around you i feel there is a noose on my neck, Y/N” Wednesday said

She can see the hurt on your face and she is starting to feel bad about what she said.

“Y/N…” Wednesday said

You don't say anything. Knowing what your girlfriend said to you broke you into pieces. You avoid her look and you don't hear what she is saying. You used your ability and went to your dorm room and Wednesday is stunned at what just happened.

You scared your roommate because you came out of nowhere. But he can sense something is wrong.

“What’s wrong?” Ajax asked

“Wednesday cheated on me with the dumb guy from the coffee shop. Then told me that I was a burden” You said.

You are trying hard to hold back your tears, you don't like crying in front of people. He sits next to you on your bed and he puts his hand on your shoulder. You look away but he can hear you sniffle.

“She doesn't deserve you. I’m going to be with Enid for a while” Ajax said

“Thanks,” You said.

He stood up and walked towards the door, he heard you cry but he left the room. You keep crying and you wipe your tears away with your long sleeve. Ajax told Enid what happened and they feel bad for you. You lie in your bed and cry for a bit more than you sigh.

Ajax is in Enid’s room and Wednesday walks in. She noticed a box on the desk and she opened it and there was a note inside…

Happy death, Wednesday. I care about you and I hope you will like the gift. I know you don't like roses but hope this is an expectation.

Y/N

She opens the box and she is speechless. It's her birthday and everyone knows she hates parties.

“What is inside the box?” Enid asked.

“A black rose,” Wednesday said.

“You don't deserve it since what you did to him,” Ajax said.

“You shouldn’t worry what doesn't concern you,” Wednesday said

“He is my friend and you broke him. You were his first love instead of telling him the truth, you cheated on him! I don't get what he saw in you but you better stay away from him” Ajax shouted

“I don't take orders from a child,” Wednesday said.

“Please don't fight,” Enid said.

“I'm leaving and stay away from him,” Ajax said.

He left their dorm room and Enid started to ask questions.

✫ ✬ ✯ ✬

Wednesday has tried to speak with you but you don't say a word to her. She regrets what she did and said to you.

“Y/N, can we talk in private after class?” Wednesday asked

You and Wednesday have the same class, you always sit next to her. You stand up and everyone is looking at you.

“Ms. Thornhill, can I switch seats permanently,” You said.

Everyone is in shock and Wednesday can feel everyone is staring at you and her.

“Of course, maybe someone can switch with Y/N?” Ms. Thornhill said

“I will switch seats with him,” Xavier said.

“Okay, you and Y/N can switch seats,” Ms. Thornhill said.

You grabbed your backpack and switched seats with him. You don't say anything to her or Xavier, now you are sitting in the front of the class next to a new person. You don't want to be friends with Wednesday, you just want to move on and forget about her and the relationship. But Wednesday wants to make right but she won't give up for now.

After class, you waited for everyone to leave. You start to put your books away then she stands in front of you.

“Y/N… I want to apologize for hurting you. I didn't mean what I said. It was wrong for me to kiss him” Wednesday said.

You didn't say anything or even look at her. You just walked away and she looked down and you continued to walk. She knows you won't forgive her easily but she won't give up.

Later that night, Wednesday went to her dorm room. She starts to type a letter to apologize to you, but she struggles to write how feels about you but she does it. She starts to write two pages at the end of the letter she stared at it for a while. Then she looked at the time, at six pm you would come in with food because she didn't eat. You used to bring her food and snacks but she would be so busy again that she wouldn't eat right away.

———

Wednesday made thing give you the letter in the hallway. She watches you read it from afar but you don't show emotion. You start to remember how she made you feel, then you remember her kissing Tyler when she wouldn't kiss you on the cheek. Just remembering that made your chest ache. Then Ajax asked what are you reading but you told him nothing. Then she saw you rip the letter and throw it away, she felt her heart ache then you walked away with your friend.

[noodle-is-unstable]

If you saw my previous post, no you didn't ☠️

Hello, hi, me again (you can never escape me)

So I just got out of my therapist appointment and that's why I'm back. Upon reflection completely going ghost is just an attempt at forced dissociation

Let me explain

I live in a constant state of guilt when I'm not actively doing things for other people (is there people pleasers anonymous, because I need it). Whenever I come online and I don't post a SMAU or other content there's a large amount of anxiety and guilt because I feel selfish I'm not doing things for others. If I'm not doing things for others I feel like I have no worth. While logically I know that isn't the case it doesn't stop the chest locking anxiety I feel

By completely logging off I was trying to avoid the guilt of being active while not making content. It was my way of avoiding the discomfort of "letting people down". Rather than acknowledging these feelings and even attempting to work to better them, I tried to run and hide from them

I attempted to sweep my problems under the rug and pretend they weren't still there. But they were

So hi. Um hello. This is me attempting to listen to my therapist and work on allowing myself to not feel guilty for not devoting my life/time to other people

I'm sure all of the back and forth is annoying but hey, you knew I was bipolar when you came here. Welcome to the flip flop lol

Anyways I'm attempting to still be present here while attempting to not feel guilty that I'm not making content

I am horrifically filled with anxiety right now and have been having anxiety attacks for the last 5 days. Noodle is fragile right now. Please handle with care