#I’ll eat ur bones

[afterartist]

If FlipaClip doesn’t give me more then two layers I might actually bite someone

Also I hate perspective (,:

But here’s a frame from a WIP animation (animatic??) I’m doing

It’s gonna be sans angst ofc

Who would I be if I didn’t give character development to my beloved

[confusionmeisss]

can you watch my boyfriend, please? - m. sturniolo

🫧 matt sturniolo x fem!reader

🫧 the “can you babysit my boyfriend” tiktok couples trend with matt!!

🫧 just fluff.

🫧 549 words.

🫧 hi lovelies!! thank u so very much for wanting to read! this trend is so cutie to me, and i initially did a chris version of this & it made me want to do one for the others (nick version) as well, so i did!! i hope you enjoy reading bc they were very fun to write!! <3

“Hi guys.” Matt looks up from his phone at the sound of your voice. “Can you watch my boyfriend, please? I just need to run into the store real quick, I’ll be back soon, I promise!” You say propping your phone up on the dashboard.

He watches as you open the car door and step out, shutting it softly after. His confused eyes follow your figure as it walks into the convenience store.

“Uhh,” he mutters out, looking into the camera. “I don’t- I’m-”

He looks down at his phone, his fingers doing a little dance across the screen. He lets out a small breath before he looks back up.

“Did you guys know that bees don’t have bones? I mean I’m pretty sure it’s well known at this point, but I just wanted to share in case you didn’t, well, y’know, know.”

A silence fills up the car for what feels like an eternity to Matt, but is only a few seconds. He looks down at his cup holder.

“Oh,” he lets out softly. “Chris left one of his Skittles Littles in here. You guys want some?” He asks, popping the top open, and pouring some into his palm. He then holds the candy container to the camera.

“Oh, did you also know that dogs can have pineapple, but only in moderation! Of course Trevor’s fatass doesn’t like pineapple,” he adds with a laugh.

Silence fills up the car once more as Matt munches on Chris’ forgotten Skittles. “He’s gonna be pissed at me when he finds out I ate his candy, but I don’t really give a fuck. I think I bought these for him actually.”

“Okay, wait, but I’m seriously running out of things to write for my Instagram captions. I think I’m just gonna abandon them or resort to using random ass emojis.”

Matt looks over at the sound of the passenger door opening, and you getting in setting a plastic bag down at your feet.

“What’d you buy?” He asks.

“Candy and cherry Arizona ice tea,” you reply with a grin, reaching for your phone. “Anyway, thanks for watching him for me, guys! I hope he was good for you.”

“‘Course I was good,” Matt mumbles out.

You chuckle. “‘Course you were, my love,” you reassure, placing a kiss on his nose, laughing at the way it scrunches up at the action. That’s the last thing the camera captures before the recording ends.

—

comments

he was a lil nervy at first, but once he warmed up he told us some fun facts. did eat his brothers candy, but told us he payed for it. 10/10 would babysit again 😊

trevor mention lesgooo 🔥🔥🔥❤️❤️❤️

i feel like chris forgetting his candy has the same effects as him forgetting his pepsi, but slightly less severe

thank u for the skittles matthew! <3

oh he was so cutie for offering us some candy 🥺

nose scrunch ahhh 🥹💓

brief mattitude there at the end i see 🤭

ur so real for the insta caption thing. it’s so tiring having to think of them

hey god it’s me again..

the anxiety/nervous keyboard finger dance, REAL

i want what they have so bad but i won’t get it, so i’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight 😁

[revasserium]

hiii i'm a new follower and i love your writing so much

ik u said no requests in ur bio but i just finished reading ur sanji fic.. so even if ur still not taking requests i'd just like to throw in an idea that u may or may not feel like using in the future, up to you (i'm requesting this with opla sanji in mind but if u wanna use it for zoro that's cool too)

k so imagine reader being invited to a friend's wedding, & being excited to go until they find out their ex is coming too (with their partner of some amt of yrs). so now reader is pressured to bring someone w/ them & ends up asking their best friend sanji bc they don't want others thinking they're still hung up on the past.

wedding dress

opla!sanji; 6,544 words, pining with a happy ending, fluff and a tad of angst, flirting, lovesick!sanji, whipped!!!!sanji, no "y/n", zeff is a whole mood, confessions, sanji-appropriate nickname usage, modern!au?

summary: you invite sanji to be your plus 1 at a wedding

a/n: im so sorry this took so long. but. better late than? never? also, there is a tiny bit of rehashing for ep 6 of the live action for sanji and zeff's relationship so... spoilers?

It’s a chilly, overcast kind of day when the call comes in. And in retrospect, Sanji thinks he should’ve known better when he’d seen your name on the caller ID. He’d hesitated, because by god if it wasn’t his New Year's Resolution to get the hell over you this year, but it’s almost December again and he still can’t help the way his heart races at the sound of your voice.

“Hey sweetheart — long time no talk!” he answers after a brief moment of contemplating his entire life, dusting his flour-covered hands on his apron.

“Hey! Sorry for calling so… out of the blue…” your voice is still as sweet as ever, and the way his stomach twists at the tinkle of your nervous laughter makes him want to kick himself. Still, he forces himself to stay calm, clearing his throat as he checks the oven — it’s almost done pre-heating.

“Now you know what I said about actin’ a stranger — just because you moved halfway across the entire world doesn’t mean we ain’t best friends anymore, right?”

It’s what you’d said when he’d been standing at the airport, three seconds from dropping to his knees and begging you not to go. But he hadn’t, because he knew how hard you’d worked for this — for this opportunity abroad, to study art in the birthplace of the Renaissance itself, in the heart of Italy.

“And… you might be able to come visit me, right?” you’d said, rocking on the balls of your feet, your eyes full of what Sanji could only call false hope — which is always, always the worst and most painful kind.

Sanji had swallowed and nodded and said something or other about Europe and fine dining, but there’s a terrible, prickling heat eating up the back of his neck and a voice that’s screaming at him to pull you to him and kiss you. He doesn’t. And he regrets it to this day.

“Ah — right… I’m actually calling because… I’ll be in the area in about a week and…”

Your voice pulls him out of his reverie and he clears his throat, hitches a smile to his face that he knows you can’t see but he’s sure you can hear.

“Oh! That’s great, darling! You’ve gotta come for a drink, I’ll whip up all your favorites — we can make a night —”

“It’s actually for a wedding.”

There are a few moments in everyone’s lives when they learn the true meaning of a thing for the very first time — elation, pride, stomach-twisting guilt, and… fear. True fear, the kind of fear that shakes the muscle from your bones and sends them tingling, threatens to overwhelm you with numbness. Fear, that pushes adrenaline through you like a drug, forces the world into a terrifying, all-consuming focus.

Sanji feels the fear coursing through him, wild and contentious at your words.

A wedding.

Your wedding? Perhaps?

He can’t bear to think of it; he’s so terrified he can barely breathe.

Then comes the moment after, the wave of everything else that the fear had washed away — confusion, anger, guilt (always guilt, for some reason), because isn’t he supposed to be happy for you? For you, the person he loves most in this entire world, to find love, to know happiness. He should. He should.

“Oh.”

Sanji sags back against the hard, metal counter. Almost mindlessly, he reaches into his pockets with shaking hands, digging around for a smoke.

Your breath is soft in his ear, too far across the phone line and a thousand miles of ocean.

“I originally wasn’t even planning on going — she’s not a very close friend — we had like one class together but —”

And within the span of a minute, Sanji also learns relief. The kind that melts the world around you into sizzling butter and champagne bubbles. The kind that makes you want to lie down on the ground and scream.

“— it was so close to your restaurant so I said yes but I didn’t know he was gonna be there and —”

You’re still talking, rambling like you do. And it takes nearly everything inside Sanji to pull himself back to the conversation.

“Sorry, love, who did you say was gonna be there?”

“My ex — you know the one —”

Sanji grimaces, flicking on his lighter with still-shaking fingers.

“Mm, yeah I do. The tall, dark-haired bastard who —”

“Yeah well — he’s gonna be there too and I just —” he hears you swallow hard and take a long, steadying breath. An unnameable something is calcifying in the depths of his stomach as he waits for you to collect yourself.

Curiosity? Why had you called like this, so suddenly, about a wedding where your ex was going to be? Concern? Were you thinking of going back to him?

But slowly, as you stutter through your next few words, the unnameable thing obtains a name — dread.

“— I just don’t think I could do it myself, y’know? And — and you were the one who got me out of it wh-when I decided to break it off with him so…”

Sanji takes a long drag of his cigarette and casts his eyes up at the high, white-slabbed ceiling of the kitchen, scored with long strips of bright, fluorescent lighting that floods the entire room in a direct, unforgiving glow.

He closes his eyes and counts to three.

“Course I’ll come with you, darlin’. It —” he wets his lips, taps off a bit of ash from his cigarette, and sucks in through his nose, clearing his throat of the words still lodged there, “— it’d be my honor.”

Relief — he hears it in your voice, and by gods he can almost see it — the way your whole face would light up, washed as if by the setting sun, your eyes wide and dark, your cheeks flushing his favorite fucking shade of pink and —

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I really owe you for this one —”

Sanji makes a valiant effort at a nonchalant chuckle; it comes out sounding like a dog with a bit of bone stuck in its throat instead.

“Nonsense — what are best friends for, anyway?”

There’s a tiny pause where Sanji can feel the words best friend scraping along the insides of his mouth, barbed and harsh, leaving his tongue feeling raw and metallic.

“You really are the best friend anyone could ask for,” your voice is soft and honest and Sanji wants nothing more than to chuck his phone into the industrial blender.

You tell him that you’ll send him the details, that you can’t wait to see him soon, that you’ve got a world and a half of catching up to do, that you’ll buy him so, so many drinks, and that you’ll come bearing presents. He laughs at the right times, makes soft noises of consent and agreement, and when finally, finally you tell him goodbye, he clicks off the phone and takes another long drag of his smoke.

And then, he whips his hand back and throws the cigarette butt into the large sink, where it tinks against the metal and sizzles sadly in the murky dishwater.

“Real sucker for punishment, aren’tcha, lil’ eggplant?”

Sanji groans, turning around to find Zeff with his arms folded, the hip to his bad leg propped against a counter.

“Will you fuck kindly off — can’t you see I’m going through a thing here?”

Zeff snorts, clunking unevenly towards him.

“You been going through that thing for the last year and a half since you chickened outta askin’ her to stay so —”

“I didn’t chicken out — I — it was her dream to go to Florence and study —”

“And what was your dream then, ey?”

Sanji bangs his palm against the counter and sighs, “It’s not like I could leave you here with —”

“With what? A thriving restaurant business that I started? A guest list out the door and round the corner —”

“I — I helped!”

Zeff rolls his eyes, “Ah sure ya did, but I never asked you to, did I?”

Sanji huffs, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop the torrent of horrible, sad, acrid things he could say and could never mean, so he swallows them back down. When he looks up next, Zeff is still standing there, but there’s a softness around his eyes.

He opens his mouth a few times, but eventually, all he says is, “The oven’s over heatin’.”

Sanji swears and jumps up to tug open the oven door. A wave of hot air whooshes out and nearly catches him in the face. Behind him, he can hear Zeff’s dark, gravelly chuckle, and the dull clunk of his wooden leg.

“You burn the kitchen down, you pay for it.”

And then he’s gone again, leaving the door swinging behind him, and Sanji very much alone with the too-hot oven and a counter full of things he can’t really remember the recipes for anymore.

Nearly a week later, Sanji finds himself standing at the airport, rocking on the balls of his feet, nearly in the exact same place as he’d been a year and a half prior. Except this time, you’re not walking away from him. You’re walking back towards him. He wonders if there’s a name for deja-vu in reverse and comes to the realization that that’s just called… a memory.

And memory seems to work in strange ways now, images superimposing themselves on top of one another — the flicker of a film lens, the bat of an eyelash, the shadow of a smile crimping the corner of your lips. All of this, he sees in the here and now, but he sees it in the air around you too, shimmering and mirage-like — all his memories and dreams of you layered over the shape of you. Your memory like a ghost of itself, trailing behind you as you walk towards him, a shy smile on your face, your cheeks flushed from travel and the cold and —

He doesn’t let himself hope. Not this time.

“Hey!” your voice is just as bell-like as he remembers it, pitched a little higher than it usually is, probably out of nervousness. But it still feels like a kick to the guts. Sanji forces himself to smile.

“Hi, love,” he says, leaning down as you reach him, but the motion aborts halfway because — is it still appropriate to hug you like he’d always done? To press his lips to your cheek or your hairline and revel in the bright citrus of your shampoo, to soak in the butter and cream of your skin like he used to?

There’s an awkward half-second pause before you’re standing up on tip-toe and Sanji’s heart nearly drops out of his ass as you lean in. But then — your lips skim by his cheek and your arms are around him, and stupid, stupid, stupid heart — thundering in his chest like horses or hooves or fists or thumping rabbit’s feet — leaping into his throat and pattering against the base of his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and holds you close. But it’s not close enough. It’s never close enough.

He breathes and distantly, a part of him notes that you still use the same shampoo.

“Hi…” your voice is warm by his ear, a bit muffled, but he can’t help the way it makes him shiver, “It’s… so good to see you.”

He nods, not trusting his own voice to do the normal thing and, oh, you know — work.

“I’ve — I’ve missed you.”

He makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough as he nods again. He feels your arms slackening around him and a fierce, terrifying thing is flapping its wings in his stomach, screeching at him not to let you go. But he does — like he did before.

“I — I missed you too,” he says, though his voice sounds flat and scratchy and he clears his throat again.

A dozen different expressions flicker across the lovely planes of your face and finally, it settles on endeared exasperation.

“Please don’t tell me you still work through like three packs of smokes a day.”

Sanji laughs then, shaking his head as he reaches over for your luggage, “Nah — well, maybe not three but —”

You whack him softly on the arm.

“I actually tried to quit right after you left.”

“You did?”

Sanji shrugs as the pair of you start to make for the exit. He feels your gaze go slanted and shrewd.

“How long’d that last?”

He smirks, “Few hours.”

You whack him again and this time, he dodges out of the way just to bask in the bright spark of your laughter as you chase after him.

“Seriously though, you know how terrible they are for you!”

“Sure do,” he says, tugging one out of his pocket as soon as he clears the airport doors, pivoting left towards the parking garage. You have to jog to keep up with his longer strides, your breaths misting the air between you in silvery puffs.

He makes no move to light it as he helps toss your luggage into the trunk of his car, sliding into the driver’s seat. You huff as you wiggle into the passenger’s side.

“Then why —”

Sanji waits patiently for you to buckle your seatbelt before pulling out of the parking space, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting soft against the middle console. He slates you a glance.

“Cause,” he says, fixing his eyes back on the road, an easy smirk twisting his lips, “it’s a metaphor.”

You groan, sinking into the seat, “Just because you read John Green one time —”

“Oi, I’ll have you know I read his entire bibliography after you showed him to me.”

“Ugh, whatever you manic-pixie-dreamgirl-loving ass.”

“Yeah, whatever — you actual manic pixie dreamgirl.”

You smile and Sanji allows himself the brief and aching delusion that the past year and a half didn’t happen, that you never left, and that you’d never leave. That you’d always be here, warm and laughing and just within reach.

The rest of the car ride is spent in mundane conversation, in how was your flight and tell me about Florence and how’s Zeff doing these days and I wanna know about your latest dish. It’s light and easy, and Sanji lets it warm the air around him. By the time he pulls into the front of your hotel, all the unsaid words from the past year and a half have soaked through his socks and into his shoes. It sloshes out onto the pale pavement as he opens the car door.

He helps you roll your luggage up into the lobby and tells you he’ll be here at 3PM to pick you up tomorrow. The venue’s just three blocks away.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” you say, pursing your lips, waving as he backpedals towards the automatic doors.

“You’ve still gotta send me pictures of the dress you’re wearing — I gotta find a matching tie.”

You laugh, a bit embarrassed, “Right — and here I thought I might surprise you.”

Sanji freezes, eyes wide.

“O-oh! Er — well, you can just — just tell me what color or —” he waves vaguely, “send a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against —”

You nod, eyes glittering, eager once more, “Oh! That’s a good idea — I’ll do that.”

“Great,” Sanji says.

“Great!” you echo, perhaps a bit too chipper.

He gives you one last smile before turning and striding from the hotel, firing up the engine as calmly as he can, forcing himself not to turn and check if you’re still watching him through the brightly lit, sliding glass doors. He allows himself a glance through the rear-view mirror as he pulls away from the drive and his heart skips a beat when he realizes you’re still standing there, right in the middle of the lobby, fingers wrapped around the handle of your suitcase, your eyes fixed on the shadow of his retreating car.

He lights the smoke the second he turns the corner, your shadow no longer in his rear-view mirror.

That night, Sanji dreams in fits and leaps, flashing images and long, sticky streams of could-have-beens —

He dreams of your laughter in a white-tiled kitchen, of powdered sugar and eggshells cracked and leaking on an exposed wood counter, chopsticks clinking against a thick glass mixing bowl. He dreams of your voice echoing off the shower tiles as you sing off-key, the way you used to when you’d sneak into his college dorm for movie night and a midnight snack. He dreams of coffee mugs and errant rose petals and dandelion seeds blowing in the wind. He dreams of dancing with you in his arms in a darkened dorm room that morphs into a bigger room with a softer carpet, one that he’d never seen before but he knows implicitly (like bodies know) is his home — it has pictures on the walls, trinkets lining the far bookshelf, your favorite scarf draped over the back of the well-worn sofa.

In the dream, you pull your head back from where it's pillowed against his shoulder and smile up at him. He leans down to kiss you, his lips hovering half an inch from yours.

Sanji jerks awake to the sound of his alarm, fingers fumbling for his phone, groaning as he smashes the orange snooze button and flips over to bury his face back into his lumpy pillow.

“Ah… fuck.”

It’s not the first time he’s had that dream, and he knows it won’t be the last. But it’d been so real that night, real enough to make him wonder if it just might come true.

He rubs at his sleep-crusted eyes and peers blearily at all the notifications on his screen. There’s a text from you with a picture attached. He clicks it open to find a short message attached to the picture — I really did want to surprise you…

He blinks for three seconds at what looks like a blurry picture of studded black silk before he remembers —

“Send me a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against.”

He allows himself a laugh, swinging his feet out of bed even as he types back — you coulda just told me it was black…

He watches the three little dots appear and disappear a few times, chewing on his bottom lip, before the text appears — well there are different shades of black, right???

Sanji laughs, shaking his head.

sure there are.

A string of tongue-out emojis, followed by an equally long string of middle-finger emojis.

He spends the rest of the morning fussing over which specific black tie to wear before settling on one that he’s quite sure is the exact same shade of black as your dress (and yes, he does have quite the collection of black ties), before tugging his best suit out to press.

It shouldn’t feel so easy, slipping back into the rhythm of things, of texting and smiling and hearing your voice in his head when he reads your texts. It shouldn’t feel so easy to forget the months of radio silence and guilt, the oppressive, resonant weight of what might have been if either of you had done a single thing different that day at the airport — he wonders if he should’ve reached for your hand, he wonders if you’d ever looked back.

He hadn’t. He couldn’t let himself.

He is waiting for you in the lobby at 2:45, wearing a hole into the plush Persian carpet, collecting strained looks from the concierge who had assured him three times in the last four minutes that he’d already rung up to your room and that you’d said you were on your way.

“Wow, you’re early — sorry I took a while — I couldn’t figure out what to do with my hair and —“

Sanji lifts his head and thinks distantly that all those rom-com cliches of a guy looking up, time itself slackening, the room smearing sideways around him, the music going slow, the lighting soft — all of it is painfully, startlingly true after all.

Because there you are, walking towards him, still saying something, but he can’t make out the words anymore because time isn’t really a thing anymore, is it? He can’t focus on that and also the dark glimmer of your dress, the way the neckline skates just beneath your collarbones, barely skimming the skin there before it slips down along the slope of your shoulders in a way that makes his breath unspool inside his chest like loose threads.

And in the slanted, ethereal light of the winter afternoon, your dress looks like it’s cut from a swath of darkest midnight, moonless and scattered with stars.

You blush as Sanji attempts to pick his jaw up off the floor and hitch his lips into something resembling a smile.

“W-wow… you look…”

Your smile is shy as you press your palms against the dress, looking down, “Thanks… you don’t think it’s… too much?”

Sanji shakes his head, feeling dazed.

“No! I mean — it’s —“ his mouth is dry, drier than he ever remembers it being, and suddenly it’s very hard to swallow and Sanji isn’t even sure the muscles in his neck know how to perform the action, let alone force words out alongside it. He struggles for another few seconds, his jaw working furiously as his eyes skitter down and back up the shape of you.

“You look… perfect,” he says, finally, because the word has been ricocheting around his chest like a stray bullet and he had to let it out somehow.

“Thanks — you don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, your voice breathy in a way that makes Sanji’s stomach squeeze.

He offers you his arm, and you glide forward to take it.

He drives the three blocks to the wedding venue in a daze, his mind spinning slow and off-axis, tilted so by the gentle waft of your perfume, the lullaby of your voice as you chatter nervously about this and that and the weather, I mean, can you believe it’s gonna be an outdoor wedding in the winter? He wonders briefly why you’re so nervous, and then he’s reminded of the reason he’s even here at all — your ex will be here. Ah. Right.

“Ready?” he asks, offering you his arm again as the both of you follow the meandering stream of arriving guests toward the paved outdoor garden area where the ceremony is due to take place.

“No, but… you’re here so…” you let out a breath and for a second, Sanji almost thinks he hears the hint of an ache in your voice. An ache like an old scab picked at too many times, like unrequited love, perhaps. It’s an ache with which Sanji is so intimately familiar that he immediately tamps it down and vows not to think about it again for the rest of the night.

There are stiff-backed waiters wandering around with plates of hors d’oeuvres and thin flutes of bubbling pink champagne.

Sanji grabs two glasses and hands you one.

“Cheers, then.”

“Bottoms up,” you say, tossing back the entire flute in one.

Sanji cocks his eyebrows, grinning as he follows suit, smacking his lips.

“Alright then, I guess if that’s how you’re playin’ —”

Your laughter is light, if a little strained, but he remembers how quickly bubbly drinks tend to go to your head and makes a concerted effort to slow down. You make it all the way through the actual ceremony without bumping into your ex, though you do lean over and grab Sanji’s hand as the bride and groom exchange vows — something about love being a choice, one that they promise to make every morning of every day for the rest of their lives — and he looks over to find you misty-eyed, bottom lip caught beneath your teeth.

“Sap,” he whispers, leaning over. It earns him a choked laugh and a half-hearted elbow in the ribs, but it’s worth it to see the tension melt from your shoulders.

Sanji turns back towards the bride and groom, exchanging rings now, and unbidden comes the images of you and him standing where they are — you in a dazzling white gown, him still in a dark suit, but one perhaps of more expensive material and much better tailoring. He thinks about all the things he might promise you, wonders at what you might promise him in return —

“I promise to love and cherish you —” you might say.

“I promise to make all your favorite foods,” he might say.

“I promise not to touch your emotional support le creuset pans.”

“I promise not to make you taste all my experimental dishes —”

“Okay, but what if I want to —”

He imagines the way the crowd would titter, how the officiator would affectionately clear his throat. He imagines Zeff’s warm, well-worn laughter, rough and a little torn at the edges because he’s just as sentimental as the next guy behind all the beard and gruffness. He imagines the crowd smiling up at the pair of you, the way you’d squeeze his hands to get the both of you back on track —

He jerks out of his reverie as you tug your hand away from his to clap, and it takes him a beat to realize that everyone else is clapping and cheering too. He blinks — the bride and groom are kissing, pulling apart as the music swells around them and they link hands to walk back down the aisle.

Sanji clears his throat and hurriedly gets up to clap as well, his eyes trailing the radiant smiles on both the newlyweds’ faces. Another sharp ache sings through him but he feels your hand in his again and he can’t tell if he wants to grip you tighter or pull away. They’d both hurt just as much, wouldn’t they?

“C’mon, let’s get inside — I wanna judge the catering with you,” you whisper, your breath tickling his cheek, and he knows without having to look that you’re standing on your tiptoes, your chin almost propped on his shoulder.

He fights down a bout of shivers and smiles, “My favorite part of any formal event, honestly.”

You laugh, “I know — me too.”

So you spend the entire dinner service whispering to each other about the food —

“God, this steak is so well done I think it just might dislocate my jaw —”

“What’s in this sauce?”

Sanji chews thoughtfully before making a face, “Dunno, but it’s got oregano.”

“Oh the cake looks good though.”

“Yeah, but we both know how much sugar and butter goes into that right?”

You nudge him with an elbow, “Weird, cause I’m pretty sure happiness is also made of sugar and butter.”

“Well for me, it’s always been…” but Sanji trails off, biting his tongue. No. He can’t say that — not now. Not here.

Because for him, happiness has always just been you.

So instead, he swallows passed his own mouthful of regrets and attempts a lopsided grin. And thankfully, your attention is drawn elsewhere by a loud peal of laughter before he has to make a shitty joke about happiness being a well-lit kitchen and a gas-lit stove.

You’re both at least a bottle of champagne deep when it finally happens, inevitable as a summer storm — your ex saunters up to you on the dance floor, sporting a grease-slick grin, eyeing you up and down like a piece of well-cut meat. Sanji is at the bar, grabbing more drinks and you’re catching a breath of fresh air just outside the dance hall.

“Well, well, well — look who it is.”

Sanji turns sharply at the sound of the voice, his eyes narrowing — Asshat. Fantastic. The bartender is putting the finishing touches on two custom cocktails but blinks, confused, as Sanji swipes both drinks out from the bar and casts him a hurried grin.

“Thanks mate, these look great,” Sanji raises the cocktail glasses at the bewildered bartender before hurrying off, slowing ever so slightly as he reaches you, straightening his spine and smoothing out his shoulders.

“Here, got them special-made for you,” he says, pressing the cocktail into your hand, cutting into something that Asshat is saying.

“Oh! Thanks — oh wow, this looks so good!” you beam up at him, taking a sip.

“Oh wow, didn’t know you were still hangin’ out with this guy,” Asshat says, hooking his thumbs into his belt-hoops and jutting out his chin.

You frown, pressing your lips, “Excuse me?”

Asshat scoffs, posturing, “I mean, when we broke up, it was cause o’him right? So I just thought you might’ve realized what a mistake that was and —”

Sanji barely has the time to feel offended before Asshat is gasping and stumbling back. You’d tossed the remainder of your drink straight into his face.

“What the —” Asshat sputters, his fists clenching, but quick as anything, Sanji swipes out a leg that catches him right in the shins and makes him stumble. In one fluid movement, Sanji pushes his own drink into your hand before reaching out the other arm to steady the now flailing Asshat, catching him around the shoulders.

“Whoa there! Seems like you’ve had a bit too much to drink, my friend!” he says, loud enough for the people around you to hear. He thumps Asshat on the back in a would-be kind gesture before tugging him close, still coughing, and hissing in his ear —

“Listen here, you asswipe — you’re gonna turn around and walk away and stay the fuck away from us for the rest of this wedding, you understand? I’ve got plenty more o’this for ya if you don’t, got it?”

Sanji scuffs his foot along the gravel-covered ground in a motion that could easily be mistaken as fidgeting, but you know better. And so, it seems, does Asshat, who scoffs and shoves Sanji off him with a glare, but after another second, straightens his drink-soaked jacket, turns, and stalks away.

You let out a long breath, swallowing hard.

“Hey darlin’… you alright?” Sanji turns and bends down to level his eyes with yours.

“Y-yeah — thanks — you didn’t need to —”

“Nah. Course I did — it’s why you invited me, right?” he allows himself a lopsided grin that borders on self-deprecating and you look up, eyes wide.

“No! I — that’s not —”

“It’s okay, love — I promise I’m not offended —” Sanji’s babbling, he knows he is — but he has to, because the alternative of letting you speak, of letting you confirm what he already knows to be true (that you’ve only ever seen him as a best friend, that you love him in all the ways except for the one way he wants you to, in the one way he loves you) is too much. He tucks his hands in his pockets and shrugs up his shoulders, pulling them up towards his ears like armor.

And then you lean in and kiss him, and every single word he’s ever thought of saying just to fill the silence turns to mist and mornings on his tongue. His mind turns blissfully blank and when he regains consciousness (or has he? Because isn’t this the dream he’s dreamt every waking moment of his life for the past… however many years?), he thanks every god he can name that he feels his fingers in your hair, his other hand cupping the soft curve of your jaw. He tastes your uncertainty against his lips and presses in, hoping, praying that if he just kissed you hard enough you might understand.

When you pull away, he can’t help the satisfied purr that curls up his chest at the pinkness in your cheeks and the slightly glazed-over look in your eyes.

“O-oh — sorry I —”

Sanji shakes his head, leaning in to push his forehead against yours.

“Nah, nah, nah — if you tell me that was a mistake now I might just turn around and never speak to you ever again — because don’t you dare —”

You let out a helpless laugh, shaking your head as you reach up to cover his hands with yours. It’s only then that he realizes they’d been shaking. He swallows and he thinks he can taste every single morning after for the rest of his goddamn life in the whisper of your breath.

“It — it’s not, I wasn’t —” you close your eyes and Sanji holds you still, foreheads still pressed. Distantly, Sanji is aware that people are cheering, that more drinks are being poured, that the dance floor is probably a mess. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think he’ll care about anything else ever again — why would he? Now that he’s got you.

“Shh… take your time, love… we’ve got all the time in the world.”

He feels the relief take you, and then you’re falling into him, burying your face in the lapel of his suit jacket, probably smearing it with your foundation. Vaguely, Sanji considers framing it when he gets home.

“I’m… I’m sorry it took so long — I’m sorry I didn’t — that I wasn’t…” you curl your fist into the material of his shirt and thump him lightly on the chest, even as he laughs and wraps his arms around you.

“I know, darlin’… I know.” Sanji presses his lips into your hair and can’t help a smile.

Finally. Finally.

Your hair smells like citrus shampoo.

Finally.

“I thought about you every single day,” you admit, your voice small when you finally pull back to look at him again. He thinks there might be tears in your eyes, or maybe it’s just the starlight caught in the thick night sky of your lashes.

“Did you now?” he asks, fumbling for some semblance of normalcy amidst this night of revelations.

You nod, fervently, and god he wants to kiss you again. Briefly, he wonders if he should, if he’s allowed to now. Instead, he smiles and cocks his head.

“So? What changed?” and he can’t help the tiny note of hurt out of his voice, the slightest shiver of disbelief. After all, cynicism is a hard habit to break.

Especially after so many years of practice.

You shrug, sighing, “Nothing — everything. I mean — I’d always… but then I thought — you had your career as a chef and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life. But it —” you lick your lips, and Sanji nearly breaks when you tear your eyes away from his. He wants to force you back, to soak in the dark and bright of your gaze till he can see the world exactly as you see it.

“It’s always been you…” you say.

At this, Sanji does break. He tips your face towards him with a thumb and a forefinger and leans in, waiting for you to pull back, bracing for it. But you don’t — instead, you press in and close the space between you again, and again, and then again.

He wants to tell you — he needs to tell you that it’s always been you too, that there’s never been anyone else. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he’s known, even though both of you were children back then, and neither of you had any idea what “love” actually meant. He knew then, too.

“Love…” his voice trails off, but you smile, and he knows you know, knows that you can hear it in the rawness behind his voice, in the softness of his breath, in the way it shakes.

You make to kiss him again. But your lips hover half an inch from his and you stop. Sanji sighs.

“What — why’d you stop?”

Your smile is sweet and sharp, honey glinting on a razor’s edge, and he knows that he has you. And maybe that he’s always had you and was just too blind, too terrified, to see it.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s a metaphor.”

Sanji groans, “Fuck your metaphors.”

You bat your lashes, pulling an expression of mock affront onto your face.

“Well at least wine me and dine me first —”

Sanji licks his lips, “What’dyou think I’ve been trying to do for the last ten years?”

Your breath catches.

“Oh.”

Sanji smirks and kisses you again, slowly this time, languid and deep. Unhurried. He luxuriates in the way you go soft in his arms, in the way he can feel the gentle hitch of your breath as he runs his tongue along the edges of your teeth, coaxing you towards him, closer and closer and closer.

The hardest, angriest part of him wants to swallow you whole, bite down just to hear you hiss, to taste your blood on his tongue. To make you feel even a sliver of the pain he’d felt. He tamps it back down — there’s time for that later.

Instead, he forces himself to pull back and allows himself the satisfaction of watching you chase him, pursing your own lips with a bashful look away, your cheeks dark.

“So,” Sanji takes half a step back, puffing out his chest in the best imitation of a fuckboy at a wedding party, “wanna get outta here?”

You let out a helpless laugh, falling into his side. He lets the sound ring through him like so many silver bells.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

He chuckles, looping an arm around your middle and leaning towards your ear.

“Your place, or mine?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure I still have a toothbrush at your place.”

Sanji hums, “You still have a whole drawer at my place.”

You smile up at him, open and happy and sincere, “Then… I guess that’s your answer then.”

[satorusugurugurl]

i love ur work sosososisoso much <33 thank y for sharing ur writing ahh!!! could i request a satosugu fic where toru gets punished by sugu and reader??! maybe for like.. getting off alone or flirting w someone else?

Summary: You and Geto went to a local bookstore, leaving Gojo to fend for himself at home. It’s not like the two of you didn’t invite your boyfriend to join you on your outing. But shopping for books, of all things, didn’t spark his interest. But as the boredom of being alone settles in his bones, he decides to do the only thing that sounds remotely fun. Beating his meat.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!Reader x Geto Suguru

Word Count: 2,876

Warning: Masturbation, cursing, oral sex, degrading, edging, smut, creampies, holy

A/N: Anon thank you so so much for the sweet words! I'm glad you're enjoying my stories! ❤️❤️❤️🥹This gave me brain worms and I just had to write it! Two of my weaknesses are SatoSugu x Reader and masturbation.

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

”Are you positive you don’t want to come with us?” Suguru questioned, cocking an eyebrow at his white-haired boyfriend. “We were thinking about stopping for lunch after.”

”Nah.” Satoru is leaning against the wall, watching as you tie your tennis shoes. “The idea of a crowded bookstore makes my skin crawl. Plus, that's you guys’ thing. Books and reading.” He shrugged his shoulders lazily.

You hooked your arm through Suguru’s, leaning your head against his upper arm. “Okay, do you want us to bring you anything home?”

”Nope, have a good time. I’ll see you when you get back.” He waved his partners off with a smile before heading back to the living room to enjoy his Sunday afternoon.

The first hour was fun, trashy reality television, and the cupcakes you had made the previous day. Thirty minutes later, he groaned, flipping through Netflix to try to find something, anything to watch. Two hours into being alone, all by himself, Satoru groaned as he started to regret his decision to stay behind.

The apartment was so quiet and lonely with you or Suguru there. The room wasn’t as bright and full of the life it usually radiated. Jeez, was this what his life had been like before the three of you had gotten together two years ago? He was so used to going on dates, cooking food, and just existing in each other's presence now. What had he used to do in his tiny dorm when he was alone?

He would eat take-out, play on his phone, and jerk off to porn videos on Twitter.

Satoru sat up straight, a grin slowly tugging at his mouth. Yeah, he used to jerk off constantly. Since you three got together, he didn’t need to please himself. Seeing as either you were sucking him off, or Suguru was giving him a handy in the shower. It was like heaven, being able to experience pleasure with the two of you.

But thinking about wrapping his hand around his cock, going at his own pace, had him throbbing with excitement. You and Suguru wouldn’t be back for a bit. When you two shopped for books, you shopped—going down each aisle, flipping through pages, geeking out over your favorite series. He had plenty of time to jerk off and recover in case things got heated once his two partners returned home.

Leaning back onto the couch, Satoru turned the television to some random movie on Netflix. Mostly for background noise, and if you two were to come home in the middle of his solo session, this might cover him until he could readjust himself. With his eyes on the screen, Satoru slowly began rubbing his cock through his gray sweatpants. Up and down, just warming himself up.

Gojo was surprised that he was as hard as he was already. Was it the excitement of possibly getting caught or just that he hadn’t pleased himself in so long? Whatever the case, maybe he could care less. All that he could focus on with the warmth that was beginning to settle in his groin as he pushed his sweats down to his upper thigh to free his cock.

It was so hard, standing at attention with a slight twitch. “Oooh fuck.” Satoru pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “Fuck, I’m so hard.” He spit into his hand before wrapping his bare palm around his shaft.

His hand slowly began moving up and down, coating his length with spit. He squeezed himself harder with each stroke. He was imagining it as you or Suguru’s hand. Both are so warm but different. Suguru’s hand was larger, more calloused. Y/N’s hand was smaller, more delicate, and her manicured nails always looked o pretty around his cock. The faster he moved his hand, the more the television sounded like white noise as his mind swam around his two partners.

Satoru found himself mimicking the movements you and Suguru would do. He gripped himself tight, like Suguru, stroking fast and hard. When he reached his tip, his pointer finger would tease his slit that beaded thick droplets of pe-cum, as your smaller hand would do so gracefully. Imagining his two partners worshiping his cock, was better jerk-off material than any porn video.

“Mmm, ooh fuck me.” Satoru’s hand squeezed his thick length hard, his hand moving faster. “That’s it, Y/N, just like that, Sugu.” Looking at his cock through his lashes, he gritted his teeth. His tip was leaking pre-cum, his balls were tightening as he felt himself getting closer and closer to cumming. “I’m so fucking close, so close, don’t stop.”

Grabbing his shirt, he placed the hem of it between his teeth. The last thing he wanted was to get cum all over it. Having a new shirt on when you two got back would be hard to explain, seeing as he stayed home alone. It would be much better to paint his stomach. It would be easier to clean up that way.

“Nnngh, fuck.�� Satoru’s muffled moans grew louder, his cock twitching harder under each stroke of his hand. “Fuck yes, fuck yes.” The familiar burning coil in his abdomen tightened, and he never heard the door unlock. “Fuck, gonna cum—“ And tightened as his partners called his names. “Gonna cum, gonna cum!” And tightened before it snapped as Y/N and Suguru walked into the living room. “Cumming fuck! Fuck!”

Satoru jerked his wrist frantically. Ropes of hot cum coat his hand, stomach, and chest. His pace finally began to slow as his cock started to soften in his hand, his white seed shining under the sunlight flooding the room. Fuck, he didn’t realize how much he missed jerking off. Especially since he had the two hottest people starring in his dirty mind.

In the afterglow, Satoru lazily looked towards the end table in search of a tissue. To his horror, he found the two of you watching him. Your jaw dropped, cheeks flushed, as Suguru ran a hand over his mouth, dark eyes glued to the cum on his stomach. The three of you basked in the silence before Satoru quickly wiped at his cum.

“W-Welcome home!” He shouted, doing everything he could to avoid eye contact with either of you. “I didn’t hear you guys come in.”

Suguru chuckled darkly, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah? Maybe that’s because we were too busy listening to you cumming.” All attempts to finish cleaning himself came to a halt at Suguru’s words.

”I well, I gu—“

”There’s no denying it, Toru.” You joined in; faux sadness etched onto your features. “We caught you red-handed.” Your pout was adorable as you looked up at Suguru. “This is why he didn’t want to come with us Sugu.”

“Mhmm,” Suguru gently stroked your Y/H/C, “and to think we felt so bad for not including him. We stood in line for forty minutes at the cafe to get him the chocolate cake they're famous for.” Gojo swallowed as you lifted a bag with the cafe's name to emphasize Suguru’s words.

Slowly getting up on noodle legs from his orgasm, Satoru started walking towards you both. “It wasn’t like that. I just got bored. It’s not like I plotted to stay here to jerk off without the two of you.” The annoyance on both of your faces made him cringe. “I appreciate you guys thinking of me!” His hands reached for the bag, only for you to yank it away. “Oh, come on!” Satoru Gojo pouted, his eyes darting between you and Suguru.

“Huh, funny you did cum, on yourself.” Suguru barked out a laugh at your words. “And you didn’t even let me lick it off. I think that’s what hurt the most.”

”Y/N has a point, Satoru. You cleaned it all off right in front of her.” Suguru took the bag from you and placed it on the breakfast bar. “You know how much she loves our cum. My poor Princess.” You sniffled as Suguru pulled you tight against his side. ”Satoru has been a very bad boy, hasn’t he Y/N?”

”He has.”

Gojo ran both his hands through his hair with a sigh. “I’m sorry, guys. Is there any way that I can make it up to you?” Instant regret settled over him like cold rain. Both you and Suguru’s eyes darkened as sinister smirks tugged at your mouths. “Oh, oh fuck, please wait, have mercy.” He held both hands up, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop you from pouncing on him like a spider monkey.

Hours later, the automatic timer on the living room light came on. Illuminating the lewd scene in front of Satoru. You were facing him. Your back firmly pressed against Suguru’s chest as you rocked back and forth on his cock. Suguru’s hair was falling out of its bun, dark strands sticking out here and there, clinging to his skin. His lips were against the crook of your neck, biting and sucking at your skin. His actions made you whimper softly as you rode him faster.

Satoru wanted to join in, to get onto the floor and drag his tongue up Sugurus length, all the way to your clit. He hated being in the recliner across from you, his hand jerking at his cock. Fuck, you guys didn’t even let him get completely naked. He still had his sweats on and spit-damp shirt clenched between his teeth. He understood this was a punishment for jerking off and getting caught. He had to watch you two, and he'd already cum three times. But this was getting to be just cruel at this point. He wanted to join in!

Instead, you watched him, smirking at the flush dusting his cheeks and neck. The tears that formed in his oh-so-pretty blue eyes, and the way he fisted his cock to another orgasm. Arching your back, you gasped, Suguru’s tip hitting your G-spot as he bit your shoulder. Your arm reached over your head, fingers fisting in his hair. The sight of you getting closer to the edge made Satoru want to join in even more. If he could just get his lips around your clit, he knew you would squirt all over his face.

”Guys, pwease!” The cloth muffled Satoru’s words in his mouth. “I wanna help!”

You chuckled in between soft moans. “Sugu~nngh oh shit,” You watched as Suguru reached a hand around your waist, palming your thigh. “He wants to help~!” You laughed breathlessly as Suguru hummed, his voice vibrating against your sensitive skin

”Satoru,” your white-haired boyfriend perked up, “you wanted to jerk off so bad when we were gone. So you’re going to keep jerking off until we say otherwise. Dirty man whores don’t get rewarded.” Suguru’s hand, which Satoru wished was around his cock, slowly slid up to your clit. “Good fuckin’ sluts, like our sweet Y/N here, they get what they ask for.” You whined, your hand tugging at his hair. “Mmm fuck, baby tell me what my good girl wants~ yeah, be a good example to Satoru?”

”I wanna cum Sugu.” You whimpered, turning your head to face him.

He grinned, pressing a heated kiss to your lips. “You wanna cum?” You nodded your head, kissing him harder. “Go ahead, sweet girl, cum for me, Y/N.” His fingers rubbed circles around your cock. “That’s it; I feel you clenching cum on. Let it out, princess.” His gaze darted down, watching as you squirted hard.

“No, no, no,” Satoru whined like a spoiled brat. “I wanted to taste her cum!”

You were trembling, still coming down from your orgasm. Once you could form words, you tilted your head to the side. “See why we were so disappointed in you?” Suguru slowed his pace, his still-hard cock gently sliding into you. “I wanted to clean you up, but you used a tissue. I think I’ll clean up my mess the same way slut.” Suguru groaned, his cock twitching at your dirty fucking words.

“No! Please don’t. I’ll clean it up!”

”Oh, will you?”

”Yes.”

”And how will you clean up Y/N‘s cum Satoru?” Suguru asked as you slowly began rocking back and forth on his cock.

The two of you watched as your partner stood, his cum coated chest and stomach heaving as he looked to the floor. There was a dark, needy look in his eyes, one a person would only see in a feral animal. You didn’t know what to expect. For him to grab tissues to clean it, like he had done to himself. Him dropping to his knees was something you nor Suguru had anticipated. With bated breath, you watched Satoru slowly slide onto his stomach, his eyes on yours as he stuck his tongue out.

“Holy fuckin’ shit.” Suguru’s cock throbbed harder inside of you as he watched Satoru lick and suck at your cum off the floor. Like some kind of desperate animal. Never once did he break eye contact. His tongue and lips kept moving, cleaning Y/N's essence off the floor in the most vulgar way. “T-That, fuck, Y/N wh—“

“Such a good boy.” You finished for Suguru. Your tight cunt twitched at the sight. “Cleaning up my cum like the horny dog you are.”

Satoru sat on his knees. If he had a tail, it would be wagging at your praises. “Yeah? I did good. Am I forgiven? Do I get to join in now? Please!” He watched Suguru’s face scrunch up as Y/N bounced faster and harder onto his cock.

”Hmm, Suguru, what do you think?” You asked, feeling another orgasm coming close as Suguru's hands gripped your hips, thrusting up into you.

”Let that dirty slut help. I wanna watch him lick your clit like he just did to the floor.”

Before you could change your mind, Satoru leaped into action. He was positioning himself between both of your legs. His tongue immediately went to work, sucking and lapping at your clit like a madman. The sudden added friction had you rocking faster, trying to feel more of his mouth on your sensitive sex. While Geto slammed up into you, chasing his release while driving you to your own.

Watching you both with lust-filled eyes, Satoru started jerking his cock once more. Fat and hard tugged as he took your clit in between his lips, suckling the bud as hard as he possibly could. That was all you needed to send you tumbling over the edge. You screamed so loud you were sure the neighbors would file a noise complaint against you again. Not that you cared as you felt Suguru’s chest heave as he buried his cock inside of you as he filled you to the brim with cum.

Thank fuck Suguru had been right against your g-spot. Because Satoru was bleed to have you squirt in his face. The sweet, tangy taste of you flooded his mouth. He sucked at your lips, tasting both your sweetness and Suguru’s slightly salty bitterness. Like a well-crafted treat just for him. The taste of you both combined had his hand stroking his dick, desperate to cum for the fourth time that day.

In the afterglow, Suguru grunted, kicking Satoru’s thigh with his foot. “Idiot, don’t forget what we just told you.” His best friend slowly smirked as you stuck your tongue out in between pants. “Don’t waste your cum.”

Not needing to be told twice, Satoru jumped to his feet, stroking his cock in front of your face. Only his hand was swatted away, replaced with Suguru’s. The sudden change of hand and pace had Satoru whimpering like the horny fucking dog he was.

“That’s it, Satoru,” Suguru purred, stroking faster, “cum on her face like a good boy.”

That sent your white-haired boyfriend right over the edge. Tears ran down his cheeks as he watched his load, which would most likely be his last for today, spurt over your tongue, chin, and the tip of your nose. You looked so pretty, cock drunk, glazed in his cum. It had him crying out in pained pleasure.

When the last waves of his orgasm faded, Satoru stumbled. Both you and Geto grabbed his arms, slowly easing him to rest on the couch next to the two of you. He gasped, his eyes shut, in post-orgasm bliss. You couldn’t help but smile, gently stroking his hair. Suguru kept himself inside of you, kissing your neck lovingly and putting the footrest up. You and your boyfriend relaxed in the silence until Satoru’s soft snores could be heard.

It's a perfect way for you to end a wonderful Sunday.

[misserabella]

ik ure taking a break from reqs, so respond to this whenever u feel like it! :3 ure rlly good at writing and i alw wait for ur upds ahaha

do u think u can write where abby takes it? ive never seen anyone write about it. it doesnt necessarily have to be sub!abby ehehe

make the strap purple and 7.5

a/n; thanks, it means a lot to me! i hope you really like it. thanks for the amazing request! <3

7.5

abby anderson x fem reader!

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, make out sessions, teasing, choking, fingering, oral sex (all abby receiving), strap on usage, multiple orgasms, piv? sex (abby and r receiving (only mention at the very very end)), hair pulling, cursing, tit and nip play, harsh and needy dirty sex…

“no.”

“but baby, please.”

“nuh-uh. you’re crazy if you think you’re really gonna fuck that thing in me.” she pointed at your new acquisition; a purple dildo that reached the 7,5 inches.

“come on. it’s not that big.” you tried, but she was not having it.

“that’s going to break me in half.” she shook her head. you smirked and she pointed at you with her eyebrows rose. “no. it’s final.”

you whined, clinging to her shoulders and pecking her cheek.

“please?” your doe eyes came into action. she stood impasible. you left a kiss on her jawline. “please abby.” another on her neck, and another, and another… you felt her slowly give into you and how good it felt, groaning. “it won’t hurt i promise. i’ll make you feel so good baby.” she gritted her teeth as you sucked a bruise on her neck and your fingers snuck onto the waistband of her pants. “will stretch you out with my tongue first, fuck my fingers into your pussy until you’re all loose and perfect for my cock.” you muttered on her skin, and she shivered. her hand found it’s way onto your hair to tug when you pushed your hand inside her sweats, teasing her over her boxers.

“princess…” she groaned, and you smirked. you were winning her over. you knew. and she knew. you cupped her cunt.

“do it for me. hm?” she grunted. and after a couple of seconds in silence her hands came down to the waist band of her sweats to start pushing them down. you smirked and slowly pushed her onto the bed. she fell on it, and you quickly pushed her shirt over her shoulders, leaving her on her sports bra. she hummed against your mouth when you kissed her, your tongue pushing inside her mouth as you hurriedly pulled her pants and boxers down.

her hand was now on your hair, sighing at the feeling of your fingers now making contact with her soaked cunt. it was almost embarrassing, how wet you made her even on situations like this. you bit on her lip and hummed when you felt the slick coating your fingertips, just how easily they slid around her clit. “so wet…” she moaned, her cheeks burning, you always caught her out of fucking ward. and you were so hot… “fuck abby. i can’t wait to have you on my cock.” she pulled your shirt over your head, groaning.

“fucking shut up and fuck me.” she ordered you, pulling from you with a hand around your throat to kiss you.

the kiss was messy and hard, your teeth clashed, and spit dribbled down her chin.

“shit…” she sighed when you pushed one finger inside, starting to pump it in and out of her drooling cunt.

“that’s it…” you praised her, and her cheeks flushed when she let out a whimper. you always knew how to fucking crack her. you pushed the second in, smirking as she gritted her teeth, her jawline sharpening. you kissed her neck and down her chest, wanting to hear more of those pretty sounds. she was extremely sensitive on her lower stomach, and you teased her, leaving wet kisses reaching almost her mound and sucking a bruise on her hip bone, underneath her v line.

her fingers pulled from your hair at the sting, also as a threat to stop teasing her. your pussy throbbed. you gave her what you both wanted, relishing on the groan that ripped her throat when you latched onto her sopping pussy. you hummed at the taste. you loved to eat abby out, she was always so sweet.

“fuck baby…” she grunted, her hips pushing against your face as your nose bumped against her clit. you watched her face contort when your tongue lapped at that little bundle of nerves, making her tug on your hair and make you moan.

you lapped at her with need, concentrating on her clit as two of your fingers found their way back inside of her cunt. she was so warm… it was driving you insane. you couldn’t wait to mold her to your cock.

you became eager. hungrier. you were eating her like a starved woman, adding a third finger inside that made her moan. fuck. abby was sure this was one of the best fucks you two had ever had.

“i’m gonna cum…” she groaned, her walls tightening around you as you sucked on her clit. it didn’t take long for her to cream all over your fingers, her salty slick coating your lips as you cleaned her up, drinking everything she gave you in between sighs and moans.

she pulled you away when it became too much, taking in the sight of you with half-lidded eyes, swollen lips, messy hair and wet chin. the two of you pulled from each other in a messy, needy and hot kiss.

“need to fuck you.” you muttered against her lips and she nodded, too high on the pleasure and in need of more.

she helped you get undressed, and you put on the strap as quickly as you could, the back of it bumping perfectly against your clit as you moved in between her legs. she was soaking as you slid the tip between her folds. even after stretching her out, it was a lot to take. her jaw fell slack when you pushed the tip inside. “fuck.”

you groaned, circling her neck with one of your hands. “that’s it. nice and deep.” she was gritting her teeth as you buried your cock inside her halfway. you sighed at the sight of her lips stretching around the silicone. your hips sputtered, too eager to fill her up, making her whimper when you pushed it all the way inside. you moaned when the back of the strap rubbed against your cunt. “oh shit.” abby was breathing heavy, her mind fuzzy at the feeling of the tip pushing non-stop and harshly against her g spot.

she was getting cock drunk and you haven’t even started fucking her.

“feeling good baby?” you inquired her when you saw her dazed expression. she couldn’t answer, since you were already thrusting once more inside. she could feel every fucking detail of the dildo. she had never felt this full on her entire life. it was you the one filling her up. the one fucking her dumb. and that was driving her insane. her moan was the perfect answer to your question.

you started to pick up the pace, your dick easily sliding in and out of her with a slick sound that was making you feel dizzy. your clit rubbed against the back of the strap with every deep thrust, making you moan; the room was filled of them, amongst grunts, groans and whimpers. she was a mess underneath you, and you pushed up her sports bra to latch your lips to her nipples, fumbling one of tits with one of your hands and rubbing her clit with the other.

“gonna cum, oh fuck.” she whimpered, feeling so fucking gone. you were fucking her brains out.

“that’s it. cum for me.” you grunted, keeping the pace, and she let out a dragged out and deep moan as she gushed on your cock. “fuuuck.” you groaned at the sight, fucking her harder and making her moan.

“too much. it’s too much.”

you groaned once again. “take it. stop being a cry baby and fucking take it.” you were so close and she looked so fucking good falling apart. “shit so good. you look so good taking my cock. shit. gonna cum.” she moaned, even whimpered as she blushed at your words. and before she knew it she was coming again, only this time it was so fucking hard her view went black as she squirted all over your dick and the sheets. “fuck.” you couldn’t help but cum at her reaction, so fucking turned on you swore this was the best orgasm of your fucking life. hers too.

you two slowly came down from it as you stilled inside of her sticky soaked cunt. her thighs shone with her arousal.

you two looked at each other, wordless.

“shit.” abby sighed, and you couldn’t even describe it better. you two had fucked like animals in heat, and fuck had it felt good…

she returned the favor and made you cum like crazy with the same strap you had broken her open just a few minutes after.

“that’s it baby. take my cum. good girl.”

-

switch reader x switch abby? 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[st4rymoon]

GIRL… i LOVE ur blog.

can you do a miguel ohara x female!plus size reader, reader is just all cuddly and affectionate with miguel, yknow just being really cuddly in their shared bed but things go to the other direction. (SMUT🙏)

Thank you sm for the support 💘💘ughh! Ik Mig loves his girls with some extra fluff <3 he loves being buried in your thick thighs!! He gets so frustrated when you start second guessing things like letting him eat you out while you sit on his face :( he jus yanks you above him and pins you down to his mouth and can’t help but moan when he tasted you <3

anyways here is ur silly treat 🤫

𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 • Miguel O’Hara x Fem Reader

- 18+, pet names, p in v, fingering, plus size reader, needy Miguel, needy Miguel, unprotected sex, slight nipple play, husband x wife, very horny Miguel, kissing,

One thing Miguel loved was being curled up in bed besides you. He melts when your warm soft skin presses onto his, it’s the comfort he seeks after any stressful situation.

He especially enjoys when you wear your prettiest panties and a tank top letting your tummy show. He could never keep his hands to himself in situations like that.

Miguel dropped his duffle bag onto the floor as he walked into your cozy home. He knew his pretty wife would be all cozied up in bed by this time and he sure hated working late.

“Mig? Is that you?” You called out from the bedroom “Who else would it be” he cooed as he made his way to the bedroom. The second he got 3 steps away from the door you jumped in his arms, nuzzling yourself into his chest with your arms tightly wrapped around him “I missed you” you sighed.

“I miss you most chula, my gorgeous girl” his tone was sensual and smooth as he kissed you hungrily, you knew nothing innocent comes out of that familiar tone.

“Get back in bed love, I’ll be right there” he smiled as his hands snaked down your back and squeezed your ass with both hands.

You giggled as he slapped a thick hand on your plush ass as he made his way into the restroom. Miguel groaned the second he stepped into the bathroom, his eyes catching the growing bulge in his pants.

For fuck sake he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

He tried his best to think of something else but his mind always went back to the memory of your legs spread wide with his hands holding the back of your thighs as he fucked you tight cunt full.

You on the other hand were happily waiting for Miguel to get out of the bathroom so you could be cuddled up in his arms.

Your eyes lit up as soon as the door opened, lo and behold your shirtless behemoth of a husband walks in with nothing but some loose boxers. You let out an audible moan as he sunk into bed.

You were wrapped in his arms with your face buried in his arm, lips kissing onto his bicep as his hand playfully rubbed the side of you thigh “new shampoo?” Miguel hummed as he took in the sweet scent of your smooth skin.

“Mmhm, you like?” You innocently smiled. “Oh I definitely do” Miguel groaned as he sloppily kissed down your jaw and onto your collar bone.

Miguel could be so touchy in just a few seconds, he went from rubbing your thigh to squeezing and kissing all over you. “Tan chula te miras” he cooed as he effortlessly turned you onto your back, straddling your legs onto his waist.

“Mig!” You giggled as he pressed himself into you. You hummed as your pussy gushed the moment you felt his cock press against you. He was so fucking hard already.

“I know mi vida, I just can’t help myself when you look this good” he hummed “not to mention you smell like heaven” he added. You buried your face into the pillows in embarrassment due to the compliments spilling from his lips “ah ah, look at me” he cooed.

His thick fingers pulling your face out the pillows “that’s my girl”

“You all wet for me bunny? I bet if I move these pretty pink panties to the side you’ll be all soaked and gushy for me” he mocked with a pout. You shook your head knowing full well he was right.

“No? Oh don’t lie to me” he hummed. You gasped when the cold air hit your warm cunt, his fingers holding the cloth to the side as he dipped his fingers into your folds.

You curled your lips as his thick fingers dipped into your tight cunt, slowly pumping until you coated his fingers completely.

Miguel chuckled lowly as he watched you bury your face into the pillow, moaning into the soft cushion as he pumped his digits into you.

“Miguellll” you mewled as he pulled out without warning. He smiled at your needy pout, accompanied by a swift motion of his hands pulling off his boxers.

“I don’t want you cumming on my fingers doll, need you gushing around my cock” he hummed lowly in your ear. His lips pressed messy kisses onto your cheek bone and down your neck as his hands spread your legs.

“Look at that bunny, all wet and ready for me mmhm?” He smiled. You whined as Miguel began to fuck your folds, his thick cock hungrily rubbing against your clit.

Your whole body was tingling at the action, you stared at the way Miguel’s arms flexed as he held himself up and dragged his cock sloppily onto your cunt. “Mig please” you panted.

“Shhh let me do the work, all you gotta do is relax and be real good f’me” he hummed. His hands moved onto your soft hips, his eyes watching the way your squirmed and shivered at his touch.

Your eyes roll back in ecstasy as he pushes into your puffy cunt, walls swallowing him whole as he let out a gruntled moan. Miguel seethed at how tight and warm you felt around him, his vision almost going blurry as you clenched around him.

“Oh mh-“ you panted as he began to slam deep and rough into you, your back nearly arching as he placed your thighs into his for a better angle.

“Thats it f- ah that’s I-“ Miguel huffed with each thrust, his hands trailed up and down your curves and love handles as he made his way up to your tits.

He yanked the tank down, a animalistic moan coming out of Miguel as he leaned down and took your soft breast into his mouth, lapping and sucking on your nipple as he fucked you full.

You were mewling and whining into the sheets as he continued his brutal pace “pussy always takes me so well honey, jus’ loves getting stuffed full huh?” He smiled as you dug your nails into his arms.

You couldn’t get a single word out as overwhelming pleasure coursed through you. Your legs squeezed his waist as his tip nudged at your sweet spot over and over.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you pulsed around him, pussy gushing all over his cock as he fucked you like a mad man.

“That’s it lovely, let it out for me mami” he cooed. You were fucked completely dumb as he muttered praises with each deep thrust.

Miguel couldn’t contain himself when he saw your soft rolls moving with each of his thrusts and lost all control when his eyes caught the sight of your pussy completely wet and creamy.

He came at the sight of his cock fully soaked in your wetness, thick white ropes of his cum coated your gushy walls as his moans grew louder.

The sound of his balls slapping against your ass was the last thing you could hear as he fucked his cum into you. He was chanting your name out as he slowed his pace.

“F- fuck, I love you so much” he sighed. He smiled at you from below him, his lips pressing reassuring kisses onto your lips as he pulled out.

The both of you let out moans at the loss of contact. He laid besides you, thick arms pulling you close in need of your warmth and affection. “My pretty girl” Miguel hummed as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“How about a bath?”

[lueurjun]

enemies to lovers with yeonjun

yeonjun x reader — in which you hate him and assume he hates you back, until you realise that maybe he never hated you at all. it’s a long one! requests are open if you want something specific <3

choi yeonjun is the bane of your existence

his mere presence— oof. it infuriates you for no reason

it wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t have to see him everyday

but unfortunately you do

because he’s your brothers (soobin) best friend and has been practically adopted by your family

dear soobin simps feel free to change your brother, i get it bae i totally get it

you can’t catch a break he’s practically moved in at this point

you’re tired of seeing this boy everywhere you look

cant you just go downstairs at 3 am for a glass of water without finding him shirtless in your kitchen munching on a sandwich??

your parents have more pictures of him in your house than of you

#favouritism

#hesthechildtheyalwayswanted

your hatred for him started when you were eight years old

it even caused a rift between you and soobin bc your dumbass bother picked HIS side over yours

#evenmorefavouritism

#justicefory/n:(

what did he do?

PURPOSELY spilled his grape juice all over the front of your trousers making it look like your eight year old self pissed yourself

on a park with fellow kids your age who are mean as hell

you got bullied pretty bad after that and though time moved on and they forgot, you never did

it stuck with you

get behind me i’ll rip his hair out

say the word and i’ll fight him for u

anyways from that day on you DETESTED him

and he’s dumb so he has no idea why but instead of asking

he decided to dislike you back because in his mind that’s the most logical thing to do

what an idiot am i right?

a handsome one tho;)

sorry:( we dislike him rn i still got ur back

constant squabbling over the smallest things because he didn’t know when to shut up and you just hated his face

but not really because if you swallowed your pride just a tad you would admit that you do see the handsomeness within him

don’t worry bae you can admit that you’d jump on his bones if you didn’t hate him so much

ahem. anyways.

you cannot stand him because he’s the devils spawn and he doesn’t deserve your praise

until you’re set to go to prom and you have a really cute date with someone you’d had a crush on for a really long time

yeonjun of course makes a comment about your appearance but you don’t even care

because you have a date with someone special

and he has to attend with soobin so who’s the real loser?

not him my love id love to go with soobin

they leave and you wait back for your date to pick you up

time is ticking by and you’re starting to get a little nervous

your parents are starting to look at you in sympathy and you absolutely want the ground to swallow you up

because you’ve been stood up and it becomes apparent when an hour has passed and still no show or text and you’re starting to feel insecure and stupid

ur perfect bby lemme at ‘em

just when you’re about to hang up your outfit and hide beneath your duvet covers

the doorbell rings and you spring up with immense happiness

because your date hasn’t forgotten you after all

only when you answer the door it isn’t your date

rather yeonjun?? standing with flowers?? and no soobin in sight??

your parents are literally cradling each other in awe

and you’re like ??

“i know being stood up sucks for you but it’s the perfect opportunity for me to make right whatever wrong i did… and ask you to be my date…”

he sounds nervous?? genuine??

there’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes that you just don’t have in you to crush

so you accept the flowers and press a kiss to his cheek before eventually taking his arm

“i kinda don’t wanna go to the prom anymore… can we just go get something to eat? unless you wanna go?”

he seems kinda surprised for a second but then he grins with that stupid little twinkle in his pretty little eyes that admittedly have you swooning

“i’d prefer that honestly”

so that’s exactly what you do

yeonjun drives to a mcdonald’s and he pays for your food and then you just sit in the car park

together

and for as long as you’ve known him you have never actually hung out with him one on one for longer than fifteen minutes

but somehow it’s not awkward?

you both swing into subtle jokes and he even throws in a few flirty comments here and there

which takes you by surprise but what shocks you more is that you don’t mind them??

you retaliate to them but with the same flirty undertones

flirting in a mcdonald’s car park dressed to go to prom

that’s so romantic get out

the bar is in hell i know

don’t even @ me i need a moment rn

i ship u both. get married pls

anyways after eating until your stomachs felt full and there were tears of laughter in your eyes

the dreaded question rolls around

“why do you hate me?”

way to ruin the vibes yeonjun

“because you suck”

i rate the honesty babe

“ok sure i deserve that i think- but what did i do? you never used to hate me when we were kids”

you’re a little annoyed now

because how does he not remember the incident that has stuck in your mind for years?

“do you seriously not remember?”

and he shakes his head looking all clueless

which makes you feel a little embarrassed because had you just been dramatic this entire time?

maybe a little but it’s valid. i back u 100%

get his ass you sweet thing!

“you spilled grape juice all over my jeans at the park and told everyone i peed! i got made fun of for so long after that! it was mean!”

the vibe has been completely ruined now

well done yeonjun

speaking of yeonjun, he feels terrible

he remembers that incident back when he was an absolute menace

he still is but not as bad

what makes him feel worse is that you’ve only ever attacked him due to the hurt he caused you

meanwhile, he was just as mean back in retaliation

his world was literally crumbling

“and soobin took your side! you took my street cred and my brother!”

i’m soobin’s lawyer. he didn’t mean it

okay sorry! i still have your back!

“i’m sorry—truly. i didn’t realise how much it would hurt you or that you held a grudge—”

“maybe you should’ve asked.”

“i know. i’m sorry. i know nuggets won’t help but you can have an extra one of mine…”

you wanted to stay mad at him

but with the way his big eyes stared back at you whilst he held up a nugget as a peace offering

there was something oddly adorable about it

you take it from him because duh? who wouldn’t?

i mean vegans probably wouldn’t—

if you’re a vegan i’m so sorry imagine you’re eating something else

“why did you decide to take me to prom?”

you can’t help but ask the question that’s been prodding at you since you left the house

“saw your jackass date with someone else and soobin felt bad but he had his own date so i said i’d come get you…”

oh.

so it was just a favour for soobin

ok :D that’s fine

not tho is it bae? you lyin?

apart of you hoped that he asked you because he wanted to

perhaps the disappointment showed on your face because suddenly he starts stuttering

but you shake your head and force a smile

me in the mirror after an emotional breakdown :P

“let’s go then. he’s probably wondering—”

“no. that was a cop out.”

pussy

you just gape at him waiting for him to carry on

because what else are you meant to say?

“i wanted to ask you to be my date a while ago but you hated me and to be honest i never hated you, i just felt… i don’t know… bitter i guess? and that’s no excuse. i’m a dick and i know it. but when i saw your date with someone else, i knew it had to be some kind of sign that you were meant to attend the prom with me.”

okay romcom confession KING

go off

before you can comprehend anything, he carries on with his ramble

“i’m so sorry for the hurt i inflicted on you when we were kids, and for the way i’ve behaved since then. i know it won't make up for everything, but if you let me, i will spend every day of my life trying to make it up to you. Even if it takes forever for your feelings of hatred towards me to diminish or disappear altogether, i’ll wait - and hope that one day, i can prove myself to be a worthy partner for you.”

someone grab a bucket i’m gonna be sick ( i’m sliding down my wall crying rn )

i’d fold in an instant

kdrama yeonjun GO OFF

you kinda just sit there like a lemon for a sec

because wot?

literally like what is going on?

“you’ll have to grovel.”

“i will. believe me.”

“and you won’t hurt me?”

“never.”

there’s this look in his eyes that you haven’t seen before

a determined and genuine look that has you feeling quite assured

the grudge against him is still there, of course, it’s not just going to go away

but it’s not as strong and you find yourself feeling rather excited

“then consider this our first date. the first step to making things right.”

yeonjun is a little wary as he takes your hand but the nerves settle when you don’t recoil from him

hesitantly he kisses your knuckles with a grin

“to making things right.”

surprisingly, you’re thankful your date stood you up

but no one is thankful as yeonjun

gosh why do i do these? i literally make myself cry

[qvrcll]

Hi hi—ur Corio works have me in the tightest of chokeholds. Probably the most beautifully articulated writing I’ve seen in a min on here.

Was thinking ab peacekeeper!Corio getting hot and bothered over headpeacekeeper!reader…he’d just be so frustrated that someone so pretty could have power over him in more ways than one…I just know you’d do this Justice

🪼

nsfw, power-play + dark themes

i love this prompt because power is arguably coriolanus snow’s deepest, most dirtiest pursuits. he’s got his hands filthy with the promise of it and there’s no stopping a monster when you’ve already begun to feed it a routine.

but the thing with power is: it has its price. and the cost he pays for it so happens to be to rebrand himself within the districts, no less than a peacekeeper. so, when he quickly learns of the power system within all peacekeeper formations, he grows agitated. less with the idea of conduct and more with the idea of you. the pretty head-peacekeeper who seems to not be so keen with familiarity, choosing a certain bite in your words and nothing of the warmth of summer in your attitude. really, it’s all rough ends for him.

but the hardest part? he’s willing to chase those measly ends to explore you more. to map you out like a fortress he can monopolise, a clean target to hit with a blunt bullet. easy fodder. it’s all quick work to a snow - so why is he all red-eared and shaking from head to boot when you pull him into your dingy little office, somehow humiliating him more than what he begun with?

“i need you to get off your capitol horse and work, snow,” you spit in his face one afternoon, a sharp finger dotting into his chest like a pain, “not give me reasons as to why you very well deserve to be here.”

“yes.” (he wants to wring your neck.)

“yes, what?” your face is screwed into a sour frown.

“yes, head peace-keeper.” (he feels a blood vessel popping.)

“god, you’re pathetic.”

and he wants to be mad. wants to channel the strength of the very many mutts that mr gaul has eating away in her lab. wants to show you power as he knows it, dirty and selfish and so willingly like him. but his desire runs rampant - a cruel thing, an animal that he shelters beneath all his bones and teeth and blood. a thing fed with the premonitions of you so desperately that there is hunger where there is hate. desire where there is repulsion. craving where there is an itch. and so, he can’t seem to stop when his body lurches forward and his kiss begins to register as a heavy slash and all spit against your mouth.

he catches the shiver of your mouth against his as you pull away, and in the same breath, his own repulsion at what he has done. the billboards would have the last laugh, and those back home would bundle up the paper to take a closer look: coriolanus snow exiled for advancements on head-peacekeeper! read now!

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to-“ he starts, but you’re quick. out-do him in both speed and wit, as your arm knocks against his rib and holds him in place, so much so that his breath comes out in wheezes. really, you hold considerable muscle on you, so the effort comes as little to none. and still, there’s anger in your eyes.

“didn’t mean to, what? kiss me? i think even a snow is capable of knowing the levels to this,” you spit into his hair, your arm now a painful intrusion against his lungs. he coughs, tries to keep composure but fails at it. his lungs don’t support much of him, and you’re still talking, “i know you can talk.”

“didn’t mean it,” his voice is barely a breath, and when you tighten your arm against him, he’s almost keeling over his knees had you not been holding him up against the wall like fodder, an easy target.

“here, snow, i’ll show you what you can mean,” you spit and before he can even begin to give it much thought, your lips are against his again. all too violent, too, when your teeth bash against his and you nearly rip the fabric of his uniform in an effort to stumble back into the heat of your office. neat, laid out and soon, coming apart at the hinges as you mash him against the back of the door and kiss him till tears begin to form.

funnily, his brawn means nothing when he’s willingly stripping in seconds, staggered and chasing after your lips when you pull away.

you use words to taunt him, barks of “keep your hands here” or “do you want me to stop?”, forcing him to comply and keep his hands at his sides, where he will have little chance to touch you. little chances at his dirty little attempts at power as you palm the hitch in his trousers, watching in amusement when he hisses and begins fuck upwards like some cheap-whore. and when he looks up, it’s almost laughable how the power that he will go sore at the limbs to possess, leaves him in some very minutes.

“fuck - fuck - please,” he whines, no shame in the way he bucks his hips up into the flesh of your hand, his dick already a twitching and wet mess as it may stirring in your grip. a few pumps and he’s already crowding the floor with his hands, his limbs, a large attempt to remember that he hates you, he hates this, he hates the pleasure you give him and - his dick spurts against his stomach, livening the air with the heat of his release and…

…wait, did he come that quick?

“fuck,” you rasp, running a finger against his stomach and collecting the stuff that remains in silvery flecks on the stretch of skin. you watch as humiliation dawns on him, power not so much as a concern as his pride, “should we see if you can last longer?”

and within the shine of your eyes, the reflection of his half naked form reflected in them, covered in his spent and breathing like there are two holes shot within his lungs, he can sense the price he has begun to pay.

yes, he takes you up on that offer.

thank you so much for the request!! + your interest in my works, im so thankful :)

© 2023 qvrcll. do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[bosinclairsgff]

Haii I saw you fix about slashers seeing ur sh

Scars and I have a request can u write Otis driftwood catching her Relapse

And he also finds out that she has also been struggling with an eating disorder

And can it also have smut in it :3

(Nf) Ur my fav slasher writer luv ya bye :D

Otis Driftwood x reader

Warnings: self harm, eating disorder, nsfw, cussing, abuse

A/n thank you for the kind words! Hope you like this. It’s messy I fear. I’m bad at writing smut IM SORRY. But I hope it’s good enough. I luv you too!!!! Also idk what your or you’re to use idc at this point.

You had tried so hard, you really did but life with Otis isn’t always easy to cope with. That’s why you relapsed. Cutting was the only way you knew to get some relief from the pain. But you had promised Otis to stop it. That’s why you’ve been avoiding him and making excuses not to be touched on your upper arms. But tonight that would all change.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Come here girl” Otis shouts downstairs. You quickly make your way to his room. “What is it?” You ask. “Take your shirt off.” He states. You freeze and try to think of an excuse fast. “I’m tired Otis I’m not in the mood for this I’m sorry.” You say. He walks closer and points his finger at you. “Take off your fucking shirt right fucking now!” He yells. Shaking your head in response you take a step back. Otis pulls his knife out and pulls you by your wrist. Before you could get away he cuts your shirt off your body. As it falls off you, you quickly cover your upper arms. “Otis stop!” You scream. “What did I fucking say about doing stupid shit like cutting yourself huh!? You want to feel fucking pain, huh bitch? Is that what you want?” He slaps you across your face. You fall to the floor letting your hands catch you. He crotches down to your level and holds your chin in his hand. “I know you haven’t been eating either. So not only did you not listen about cutting but you started to fuckin starve yourself. You dumb bitch.” He lets go of your chin. “I-I’m sorry Otis please I’m sorry.” You whimper out. Otis stands tall above you, looking down. “If I catch you cutting one more fucking time. One more time. I’ll skin you alive. Got it?” He says calmly. You nod your head as you start to silently cry at his threat. Otis lifts you up by one of your arms. He kisses you softly. “Stop fucking cryin. You’re fine.” He states while wiping away your tears. “I…thought you liked to see me cry.” You say in a shaky tone. He chuckles slightly. “I do mama but when I’m balls deep inside you.” He says with a smirk on his face. Your face turns a dark shade of pink. Otis leans down and kisses you roughly while bringing his hand up to your throat. Pressing just enough to make it hard to breathe. He backs you up until the back of your knees hit the bed, making you sit down. “Take off your underwear mama.” He states. You hesitate for a second but then do as he says, sliding them off. He starts to quickly take his jeans off along with his boxers. Your eyes widen, he’s already completely hard. Otis laughs when he sees your eyes widen. Pushing you down fully on the bed, crawling in between your legs. “You ready mama?” He whispers. You nod and let out a slight whimper. He lines himself up and slowly pushes in. You let out a small gasp, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his length. Otis lets out a small groan. “You’re always so tight mama.” He says in a low voice. Then he bottoms out, staying still for a moment. Then he takes himself almost fully out before he slams back into you. You let out a loud whimper and he laughs. Keeping with his brutal pace. He’s hands go to grip your stomach. “Fuck girl you’ve lost to much weight, gotta get some meat on your fucking bones.” Otis whispers in your ear. You moan in response. That only makes him be rougher. Pounding into at an ungodly pace. “Fuck mama…feel so fucking good.” He growls. He doesn’t slow down. The sounds your bodies make filling the whole room. Whimpers, whines and moans. Otis pulls out and flips you over on your stomach. He grabs you roughly and easily slide back in continuing his brutal pace. “Otis! Too much wait!” You yelp. He doesn’t listen and goes even faster. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as the pleasure was just to much. “Fuck girl at this pace Imma cum in minute. God you are such a fucking slut, did you know that?” You whimper in response. When you don’t answer he grabs a fist full of your hair pulling your head back. “I asked you a god damn question bitch now answer!” He states. “Yes, yes I’m a slut yes!” You answer in a whiny voice. Otis laughs in response. “Otis I’m gonna…I can’t take it.” You whimper out. He grunts in response. “Cum for me mama.” He says in a husky voice. Otis uses one of his hands and starts to rub your sensitive bud. That sends you over the breaking point. He feels you tighten all around him, which makes his release follow quickly behind you. He lets both of you catch your breath before he slowly pulls out. You whine in response making him chuckle.

[walli3darl1ng]

Eats,,, Eats ur au,,, yum,,,:3 /pospospos (I’m going 2 explode)

No, look! Now you ate it all :(

Don’t worry! I’ll feed you will head-Cannons about the doll maker au, sounds good? ^^

Wally could go back to his reality but choses to stay in yours so he doesn’t miss an opportunity to be with you.

Reader has a ferret named Noddle and Wally dislikes him. (Noddle takes away you attention and Wally thinks he has no bones.)

Celine is made out of porcelain and original was gonna be a tea set but you wanted a doll. So they have the detailed design of a Chinese tea set.

After you leave the studio, Wally and Celine have a info drop session where Wally ask questions and Celine answers the best they can while walking to your bedroom.

Reader also has a stay cat that hangs out and Wally spiritually bonded with her.

While taking a break, reader would hold Wally in their lap and would read or scroll on their phone. Wally would subconsciously snuggle closer.

Wally does Indeed get jealous when you work on another doll. You can feel his glare but don’t think nothing of it.

Wally would leave you encouraging and sweet notes all the time. You were confused at first and joke it’s your ‘guardian Angel’

Wally would often daydream about how you would be if you were with him in his world.

Wally is learning how to make a doll by watching you.

How did you like it? Cute right? Or no?

[hiccupids]

Hello!!

I saw u.nder.t@le (i suck at censoring) in ur list of things you would write about, and that you take requests so !!!

Could you do hiccup + tummy stuff with s.an.$ ? I’m fine with headcanons but feel free to do anything else if u want!! I’ve always been very into that kinda stuff lol

ahhh i got so excited when i saw this ask!!! ♡ i’ve been kinda nervous to post on here but i'd be silly not to ramble about the funny bone man… hopefully this is what you were asking for! i just sorta let my mind wander to headcanon the heck outta this guy

(and i also hope that my censors have done the trick… not used to this whole posting thing yet /lh)

☆ CWs - embarrassment? i dunno, lemme know if anything else needs tagging-- ☆ kinks - hiccups, tummy stuff, and an allusion to stuffing?

💙 first and foremost, i will never get tired of s@n.s with a magic tummy… he deserves some chub on him and i think that his stomach being that slightly translucent + glowing blue colour is super cute!

💙 in addition to that, i’d like to think that he takes great pride in his figure! no worries if any snacking from the night before has left his shirt just a little too tight - he’d let his white t-shirt ride up without a care in the world (heck, he’d probably make some joke about being ‘big boned’ and leave it at that)

💙 when he’s lounging around and not doing much, he likes to put his hands in his hoodie pockets and lightly push down into his tummy for no reason other than it’s kinda like a stim

💙 this goofy skeleton is also incapable of saying no to any food t0r.iel makes - whether you view them as platonic, romantic, or a secret third thing; he’s always happy to taste test her baking cause it leaves him with a nice cosy tummy to massage as he falls asleep

and here’s the ramble-y hiccuppy part:

💙 $an.s isn’t very prone to hiccups - but this doesn’t mean he doesn’t get them. when he gets a case, he gets em *hard* (not painful, just very deep and making his body rock a whole bunch)

💙 eating too much would probably bring them about for him. ‘this thing’s sensitive’, he says, patting his stomach, knowing full well that he’s not going to live by this warning at all

💙 going back to their sound - if i were to write them, i’d probably opt for onomatopoeias such as “*hURk*” or “*HMP’a*” or “*HUC’p* – *huCK-HK*” (excuse the strange writing ^^” i’m still trying to work out that part...)

💙 funnily enough, despite being loud and proud about his figure, he prefers to find a quiet place to go when hiccupping - he usually comes up with some lame excuse when he feels a case ‘brewing’, before taking a shortcut back to his and his brother’s house.

💙 he knows perfectly effective cures (thanks to the ‘genius’ that is his brother and trying to get him to stop before he “scares away a human”) but… you know him. he just sits around and waits them out. ‘too much of a hassle’ he says.

💙 his hiccups are a one-bout-and-done deal - although his cases can last pretty long (he’d recount a time they lasted for over an hour), and the speed of them is unpredictable

💙 every time he hiccups, his stomach jolts, kind of ‘puffing out’ (for lack of a better word) as he has his mittened hand gently massaging it back and forth. again, sensitive tummy, although the sensations of his cases bring about more conflicting, ‘nice’ feelings in his stomach - he’s probably embarrassed about it.

sorry if these are a little all over the place - i hope people like them regardless! still trying to adjust to writing down my thoughts in a way that isn’t just keysmashing… maybe one day i’ll gain the courage to post some of my writing ♡

[sleepyhead0720]

Hi! Hope ur doing ok

first things first, I read ur rules, and does it mean u don't write for Mihawk or Law at all?

secondly, I'd like to request something angst for Sir crocodile x fem! reader, like his lover dies from a disease or they get separated by the Marines something like that, I'm a sucker for the heavy angst stuff yk🗿

my first time asking so I hope i did right, aaand feel free to ignore if ur not ok w it! Thanks!

Heya! I actually did this already and tried posting it but something went wrong and now I had to rewrite the whole thing:’)

And to answer your question I unfortunately don’t write for either, I don’t really know both of them much and bc of that I don’t know how to write em. Maybe in the future I’ll get to know them more and write for them!

Anyways I’m pretty bad at angst so I apologize if croco here’s a bit OC but aside from that hope you enjoy!:)

(Sorry if it’s bad I suck at angst)

Sir Crocodile x Sick!dying!reader

Crocodile would do anything for you. Heck if he could give you the world he would.

So when he discovered that your life was in the line by a deadly and unknown disease, he tried his best to find a cure.

At first though, he actually didn’t really pay attention to you being sick, he did take care of you but he didn’t really pay much attention to it and figured it would go away soon and you’d be back on your feet soon. But when he got proved wrong, he immediately took action and tried his best to find a cure.

He searched far and wide for one along with Daz but nothing seemed to work. Until he got told that someone else from far away supposedly had a cure he immediately took you with him on the journey

Daz knew how much his boss meant to you and you for him, so he tried his best to help him. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t grow attached to you.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t wanna die, not yet atleast. You wanted to help crocodile in every way you could. Si you happily and obediently went with him every where he went to try to find a cure.

You weren’t feeling good at all, it fel like you could pass out any second. But you tried your best to hold on, for him.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to last long. Hallway through the journey, you fell asleep against crocodiles chest and never woke up.

When crocodile tried to shake you up, his eyes filled with worry once he felt your body losing warmth. He tried everything he knew to try to get you to wake up by some miracle. But even he knew it was too late.

For the next few days, he didn’t eat, didn’t sleep or do anything

He didn’t see the point to.

He didn’t really show it but he loved you with every bone in his body, if he could take every ounce of pain you had ever felt while being sick, he wouldn’t hesitate.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that. Which is why he’s standing infront of your lifeless body with nothing but a broken heart.

You promised to be there when he got revenge on the straw hats. You promised you’d always be there. But yet you weren’t there, only him.

You tried to hang on, you really did, but it was useless.

Daz knew how hurt his boss was after your death. He himself shed a few tears but he knew they had to get back on their feet soon or else they’d end up like you, He knew you wouldn’t want that and the last thing he didn’t want to do was disappoint you. So he tried his best to get crocodile back up on his feet

Not only for themselves, but for you

|———————————————————————|

Hope you liked it!

If you’d like for me to make a marine version instead of a diseases lmk!

[aellaismine]

Vent ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

Bro these past couple of days have been genuinely hell,I’ve been over eating sm that I don’t feel hungry and I genuinely want to die, it feels like all of my hard work is gone. I want to scrape off all of my fat. I hate myself sm for what I did and what I’ve been doing. My parents are out buying me laxatives rn cus I said I was so constipated and I swear to it I’m going to stop eating sm once I get those laxatives once school starts, I’m going to fast through breakfast and lunch.Once I get home, I’ll do my homework and I’ll wait for my friend to get back so we can walk around the park to burn calories. After all that I’ll eat the minimum dinner amount and I’ll do my 500 cal workout. I have to stay on track I’m JS so weak minded it makes me so pissed, like y do u do this y do u have to eat sm fatty. I need to stop being so pathetic. I need to be skinny, I need a thigh gap, I need a sharp collar bone, I need a thin waist, I need thin fingers, I need small arms. I have to have it and ik I can do it but I keep making excuses for myself. Like “oh it’s ok, u did so good this past week” no I did great this week so let’s keep it up. Idgaf if ur hungry, chew gum or drink water js stop being such a pig. If anyone is reading this and has an advice on how to stop bingeing please give some advice 🙏

[ofc-vi-writes-too]

In honor of me being black and loving being black and thinking everyone should love black people, here are a list of characters I believe love black women with everny bone in their bodies:

• Starting off strong: Steve Rogers. I can’t explain it but trust me please. If you get it you get it if you dont you dont.

• Jason todd. Like c’mon. Look at him. Tell me he doesn’t want to wake up next to a brownskin queen every morning. Look me in my eyes.

• MCU Bucky Barnes. I love to say it, Wakanda changed him. Stepping foot in that country was like seeing the light for the first time. He was basically reborn. I said it before and I’ll say it again. Look at how he looked at Sarah. SAME LITERALLY EXPLICITLY TOLD HIM NIT TO FLIRT WITH HER BEFORE THEY EVEN GOT THERE.

• Gojo, Itadori, nanami, and Toji from JJK. i dont think i need to eloborate here.

• Haley from Stardew Valley. She is not only a fellow girl kisser, but she would genuinely have a real tweak if the farmer was a black woman. Haley needs a 6 ft nonchalant butch dreadhead in her life it would literally solve all her provlems. She has written in her diary about this, and Alex hasnt heard the end of it.

• Fear from Inside out. Just believe me, please.

• This might be controversial but Squidward.

• Bruce Wayne. Literally thinks about eating drywall every time Selina Kyle is even mentioned. “Alfred why hasn’t God hand delivered me what i CRAVE and what i NEED *loud dramatic sigh*” hes also accidentally a perpatrator of hard wig soft life lmao. He donates ridiculous sums of money to black charities like 100 black men, and the black youth helpline. He’s an advocate for his girl’s community and we love to see it.

• Barry Allen. also thinks about eating drywall whenever he sees Iris. She’s just so sigh. And he loves her so much and he’s so glad that he married that beautiful amazing strong and powerful woman.

• Ellanore Shellstrop. After she died she had real clarity about the truths of the universe. If soulmates didnt really exist then wtf were her and Chidi im so deadass.

• Woody from Toy Story. Please do not at me. I will not be taking questions comments or concerns on that one. And for anyone saying “but what about bo peep ?!” Shes albino. Look at those 3B curls and tell me to my face that I’m lying. I dare you.

• lightning Mcqueen. Hear me out here! In universe there have to be like… black cars. He’s def the type to go for a UK baddie ykwim.

————————————————————————

a/n: guys please im just being silly they are fictional characters please dont argue about how much these FAKE characters like black people 😞. also if you try and argue i feel like that makes you a liiiiiiiittle bit racist but like thats a convo for another time. Anyway, sorry to all my sistas out there who’s fav character I forgot. Ur probably right and they probably do belong on this list, I just might have forgotten they exist! Dont be scared to comment them tho. I need to know what yall think too.

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Roy/Jamie idea: Just Jamie surprising Roy with a sexy black lace male lingerie number that has Roy going weak at the knees.

Feral.

Liam and Jack are two ocs i used in a different prompt- Liam is a footballer Jamie became pretty close with on the national team and Jack is a model turned photographer.

Jamie went shopping with Liam for this. Not because he’s the only other guy who’s not on the team who’s dating a man. Although that does factor into this next part. Liam surprised Jack with something like what Jamie is planning.

Jamie figured he could keep a secret about their sex life.

Point being Jamie is all dressed up and just waiting for Roy to get home. He always knew he might be into this, tried on a pair of Keeley’s once. Pretty good results.

It’s different this time. He looks killer. Can’t wait for Roy to see.

When Roy walks through the bedroom door he’s not sure what he expected, certainly not Jamie in lace.

Shit.

“Hey baby.”

“Jamie what in the world- oh my god.”

Jamie stood off the bed and did a small spin in the middle of that sentence, he showed off the heart shaped window on his ass.

He knew that was a good idea.

Roy grabs onto him. He slowly spins Jamie around. Drags his fingers down the higher points of lace that make his waist look tiny. “You’re incredible fuck.”

Jamie smiles, he tosses his arms over Roy’s shoulders. “Don’t suppose you’d wanna ruin me in these would you?”

Roy groans. He gently pushed Jamie back onto the bed. “I’m gonna eat you out with your ass framed by that heart until you’re screaming.” He pounced on Jamie.

Jamie moans, he gets now why Liam said to do this on a day where there’s nothing the next day.

The panties are ruined. He’s sticky in the best possible way. Roy threatened to clean up his own mess with his tongue but Jamie told him he wanted the feeling for a bit longer.

“So you liked this I’m assuming?”

Roy laughs. He’s got a hand still on Jamie’s ass, fingers tracing everywhere. “Might be the best surprise yet. Please repeat.”

Jamie kisses his collar bone. “And if I just want to wear them sometimes and then surprise you?” Roy groans, “please do but know I probably can’t keep my hands to myself that long.”

Jamie licks Roy’s neck, “who said I wanted you to.”

They end up not leaving the bed the rest of the night.

Liam gets a pic in the morning if the lace peaking out of the trash can with the caption “ur so right ab the black looked hot af I’ll always listen 2 u from now on”

[sungjinwhump]

Shadownanigans

Ch 02 || Fried chicken supremacy

Summary:

As Jinwoo’s body & personality start changing following the events of the double dungeon, Jinah has been documenting it. Not entirely on purpose, at first, but then her little following on social media catches sight of something… strange about her brother’s shadow during one of her TikToks, and she becomes determined to find some answers. This turns into a series of shenanigans and silly pranks as she tries to unravel the mystery that is her own older brother, Hunter Sung Jinwoo.

Or: Jinwoo isn’t exactly up-to-date with the latest trends and thinks that Jinah has been recording videos to send to her friends, or maybe as some kind of video diary to show their comatose mother if when she wakes up. He doesn’t realize she’s been posting them on social media for the world to see.

AO3 || Read an excerpt below the cut (formatting is a bitch so I'm not gonna post the whole chapter here lol):

sung_jinah has posted a TikTok.

[Caption: When ur used to eating college kid meals for the past 4 years but ur brother comes home with fried chicken & ice cream🥰🤤]

The camera zooms in on a bucket of fried chicken. Next, it pans to a pint of vanilla ice cream.

Subtitle: ヽ(˘⌣˘)ノ

“Jinah.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t think I can get drunk anym—what are you doing?” a male voice asks, and the camera finally moves in his direction. The man wears a quizzical expression, brows furrowed, lips tilted down. A silver can with a blurred-out label sits in his hand. A piece of chicken dangles from his mouth and he slurps it up in one bite, bone and all. “Why are you filming? Aren’t you hungry?”

“I have to immortalize this moment,” Jinah says and directs her camera back to the food. “It looks so good, I don’t even know if I want to eat it. ’Cause then it’ll be gone and I’ll be in a state of mourning.”

“Hush and eat your chicken before I do.”

“What?” The camera blurs as she rushes to grab the bucket. “You will not, you have your own—”

The video cuts off and loops.

10 likes | 0 favorites

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Comments:

hansongyeet

good hunting day??

creator reply: 

Good hunting day :3c

xoxoMINSUNGS_WIFE07xoxo

Why can’t he get drunk anymore? xD

creator reply: 

Beats me xD lol maybe his tolerance went up?  he wouldn’t let me have it >:(

Painfxxl

Lol the way he ate the whole ass bone!?!??