#Imagine blog

[pukefactory]

•☽────✧˖°˖ HIGH FASHION ˖°˖✧────☾•

(COMMISSION)

★ Summary: A Compilation Of Headcanons Featuring Salesperson ENA As Your Roomate

★ Commissioner: @mrs-potatocat

★ Character(s): Salesperson ENA (ENA: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ You had no idea how renting worked in Dreamland. You tried to offer ENA some rocks and a torn “coupon” for housing payment. She accepted with a businesslike handshake, then later taped the rocks to the ceiling as “mood crystals.”

☆ ENA never asked if you wanted to be roommates. She just appeared beside you one day, pointed at a wobbly house that materialized on the shore, and said, “Welcome to our entrepreneurial headquarters. Rent’s due in emotional labor.”

☆ She has a business chalkboard in the kitchen. Most mornings you wake up to her jotting things like “Goal: Catch a fish the size of despair” or “Revenue stream: sell bottled sighs.” You pretend you know what’s happening.

☆ She casually intrudes into your personal space without warning. Like popping up from your laundry hamper or pushing through your bedroom window with a megaphone: “Good morning! Q1 goals are calling!”

☆ Her moods flick like a switch. Sometimes she’ll gently ask if you want coffee with a perfect smile, and two seconds later she’s screaming into the fridge about “THE DEATH OF EGG SUPPLY CHAINS!!!”

☆ You often find her in bizarre states of “relaxation.” One time she sat criss-cross applesauce inside the washing machine because “I need to rotate my anxieties evenly.”

☆ Nighttime is when she gets weirdly vulnerable. Laying on the couch, hat slipping off her head, murmuring to herself things like “Some days… I wish I was just static noise,” before immediately snapping back to pitch you a “start-up idea.”

☆ Despite her chaos, she’s quietly protective. If any other Dreamland entity so much as looks at you funny, ENA’s already intercepting with a sales-pitch so aggressive it borders on threat: “Would you like to invest in a lifetime supply of BACK OFF?”

☆ Sharing the same roof means learning her tics. Like how her Meanie side can’t fall asleep unless the window is cracked open exactly 2.3 inches, or how her red side won’t eat unless you pretend it’s “closing a business deal” over toast.

☆ Slowly, it starts feeling less like survival and more like home. Not because the house is stable (it isn’t) or because ENA is easy to live with (she’s not), but because somehow… you fit here. Like two missing puzzle pieces accidentally jammed into the wrong box.

When You And ENA Are Dating:

☆ ENA immediately made a PowerPoint presentation about it. Titled: “Reasons Why Dating Me is a Fiscal and Emotional Investment.” It included bullet points like ‘frequent hugs’ and ‘unlicensed emotional support during catastrophic events.’

☆ She keeps treating “dates” like business trips. “Thank you for accompanying me on this critical mission to the ice cream stand,” she’ll say while holding your hand like it’s a formal contract.

☆ Her Meanie side gets violently flustered when you’re affectionate. The moment you kiss her cheek, she’s yelling: “STOCKS ARE CRASHING!!! MY WALLS ARE DOWN! MY WALLS ARE DOWN!!!” (while secretly melting.)

☆ At home, she’s unbearably clingy in the softest way. Following you from room to room under the pretense of “supervising home operations,” but really just wanting to lean her sharp shoulder against yours.

☆ She accidentally made you matching “Employee of the Month” badges. (“You’re the best co-founder of this messy heart company,” she said, pressing it onto your chest while you tried not to cry.)

☆ Arguments are surreal and stupidly sweet. You’ll be bickering about who left a portal open in the laundry room again, only for ENA to suddenly grab your hand mid-shout and mutter: “I’m only mad because if you fell into the sky, I’d miss you.”

☆ Her Salesperson side plans “business retreats” that are just beach days. Setting up towels like “negotiation tables” and trying to teach you how to build a sandcastle shaped like a quarterly report.

☆ Her Meanie side has a special nickname for you now. She only uses it when she’s feeling too much at once. (Something stupidly intense like “Captain Foolheart” or “Top-Grade Dreamlander.”)

☆ Some nights, you both sit on the roof together. ENA lets her hat fall to her lap, and you both watch the neon moons turn inside out. She tells you, in a voice heavy with the red side’s warmth, “I never thought I’d find someone who understands the wrong parts of me too.”

☆ Living together used to feel like a gamble. Now, it feels inevitable. Like you were both tossed into existence not to be lonely chaos, but to be…each other’s slightly broken, slightly brilliant, slightly ridiculous home.

[jjwolves]

Merci who gets jealous mayhaps? X reader?

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚 Just Run Away 𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚

What: 5 Jealous Merci X Reader Headcanons

Who: Merci, from ENA by Joel G

Images: Top -> ChobiLuck (Her VA!)

Warnings: Profanity, Very Softly Implied Sexual Content (if you squint)

Genre: Romance

Merci can be a bit rough around the edges, but she’s always watching over the people she cares about, often appearing in dangerous locations to warn them off or remind them not to get into trouble. Doubly so with someone she loves. It’s no surprise, then, that her mildly protective tendencies amp up when she’s watching over you. That would probably explain why she runs over and yells at people you’re talking with through the body language of the gods until they run away. She knows more about this place than you, right? Merci probably knows that they’re bad news. It’s not something so petty as jealousy. Probably.

Merci isn’t someone who is very talented at hiding her feelings. Generally, she likes to pretend that she’s cool and mysterious around you, a mask which slips almost immediately as her more negative feelings inevitably rise to the surface like candy in a newly-broken underwater pinata. She does her best to be tolerant of other people but she can’t stand it when they take your attention away from her. Friends and strangers visiting you pale when the strange masked woman behind you mimes a throat-slashing at them when you’re not looking. (Or, more accurately, a throat biting.) “Merci? You alright? You’ve been seeming a little… off, today.” “Ugh… That girl we talked to… She just pisses me off!” “Whoa.”

Merci’s an artist, so she eventually invites you to her performance of the “Sacred Contortion Art” (her words). She gives you little tickets that you’re pretty sure she made herself. “Feed me the ticket whenever you want to view an incredible spectacle!” Once, another strange friend you’d made told you that they wanted to see something grand before they went to the Saccharine Door and moved away to another world. You remembered Merci’s tickets in your pocket and decided that it’d be a good time to put them to use and cross a point off of your friend’s bucket list. You brought your friend to Merci and got out the tickets. “Merci, this is a pal of mine. I can pay for both of us, right?” “What? No. What are you talking about? Those are for you, not this prick.” “Huh?” Your friend had no idea what she was saying, and the next thing they knew they were being pushed out the door by Merci as she called them a “fucking pervert.” She never elaborated on this.

She subtly competes with others for your affection after you’re done visiting them, especially if they displayed some sort of artistic talent that you were enchanted by. You visited a friend whose painting skill impressed you, even if the painting was of dancing watermelons and you were pretty sure the paint was whispering to you. The next time you find Merci, she’s sitting at an easel and trying to cover up what she’s working on. “No! It’s not done yet! No peeking or I’ll kick your ass!” You went on to visit someone who stretched into various shapes like rubber and you were amazed. When you and Merci watch a scary movie together the following night, you look over to see her impressively contorting into various unnatural shapes on the couch. “I’m just getting comfortable.” You and Merci passed through a restaurant and observed a lamp-headed chef gracefully tossing cooked rocks around and back into the pan. “He’s really good at that,” you said. Big mistake. You had dinner later, Merci soundlessly indicating that she’d be the one to cook, pantomiming the chef’s motions. Before you could say anything, she turned the oven on full and flames erupted forth, nearly burning her. She jumped back and turned it off, and then did it all over again. You had no choice but to usher her out of the kitchen and take over for her. “Sorry, I usually don’t cook… I just have to pretend to eat and I’m fine.”

Merci is someone who offers you a lot of compliments even if you don’t deserve them, and she’s great at supplying them in a tone that’s very matter-of-fact. “You have excellent taste, and I’d know.” “Those guys are clearly lucky to have you.” “You’re beautiful, obviously. I didn’t invent that idea myself.” The truth is that it goes both ways. A lot of the insecurities that bring this behaviour out of her can be vanquished with some honest affirmation, the way a dream-eater is vanquished with a ghoul-swatter (which you’re thankful Merci taught you). “Merci, you’re getting worked up for nothing. You’re the one I love! You’re smart, you’re funny… I probably wouldn’t be alive, even, without you. And you’re a true artist, too. So please… Don’t stress out over this.” Merci stroked your cheek before planting a hand-kiss there. Her voice was unusually tender. “Oh, love… You have no idea how much… your words do for me. How much you do for me.” Merci tried to reign it in from then on, but it was an uphill battle. Her love ran deep. But you loved her just as much.

A/N: Sorry it took so long! Hope you enjoy!

[starrygazers]

swords, crowns, and everything in between.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ haiii I'm back! I wanted to write a short drabble royalty au love triangle between Mydei and Phainon but this ended up longer. also trying out a new format lmk if you guys like it lol.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ tags : royalty au, love triangle, angst (if you squint)

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ featuring : PRINCE! Mydei, KNIGHT! Phainon.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

MYDEIMOS, who is introduced to you as the Crowned Prince of Amphoreus, your future husband. Your father had made arrangements for your marriage, a necessary political move, given that your kingdom is not as remarkable in military prowess.

MYDEIMOS, who, on the way to Okhema, tells you about the Marmoreal Palace, where he resides, and where you’ll eventually call home. About how cold the nights are, and that should you need extra coats, you should inform the maids.

PHAINON, who greets you with a bow when you reach the front of Marmoreal Palace. MYDEIMOS introduces him as the head of the Chrysos Knights, protectors of Amphoreus. He tells you that PHAINON will be here to protect you.

MYDEIMOS, who leads you to your chambers. When you open the door, you’re surprised to see it’s decorated with relics of your own kingdom. Traditional dressing table by the bed, and paintings of your castle. You turn to MYDEIMOS, thanking him sincerely. In return, he clears his throat and looks away.

PHAINON, who knocks on your door in the mornings to bring you breakfast. He is your companion when MYDEIMOS isn’t available, which is most days. As long as he is there to escort you, you are free to explore Okhema as you wish.

PHAINON, who seems more excited than you every time you try a new food stall at Marmoreal Market. He does not let you pay for anything, because MYDEIMOS has taken care of shouldering all your expenses.

MYDEIMOS, who isn’t one for idle chit-chat, but slowly starts asking you about how your day went during suppers — an effort to bridge the chasm that separates you and the cold Prince. Suppers are now one of the times in the day you look forward to the most.

PHAINON, who always checks on you after his nightly patrols. Many times, he catches you longing for home, sometimes drowning in your own tears. He drags a chair by your bed and holds your hand, slowly caressing your hair until you drift to sleep.

MYDEIMOS, who on his off days, invites you to the library, where you can read about the extensive history of the Eternal Land of Amphoreus while he does his paperwork. When you notice him start to furrow his brows even deeper than usual, you brew him a tea from your homeland. He gives you a sheepish thank you.

PHAINON, who you excitedly share stories about your homeland to. He is a great listener, always eager to hear more about what your life was like before Amphoreus. PHAINON makes an effort to study simple phrases in your language in hopes of making you laugh, because he thinks that your laugh is a beautiful melody.

PHAINON, who somehow manages to get his hands on a cookbook from your kingdom, and excitedly picks out fresh produce with you from the Palace greenhouse to cook your favorite meals together.

MYDEIMOS, who starts to notice you mentioning PHAINON more and more when you’re telling him about your daily routine during supper. He grips his fork tighter every time you mention the captain’s name, the things you did with him, how much fun you’re having exploring the city with PHAINON.

PHAINON, who furrows his brows when he sees MYDEIMOS in front of your door in the morning. Usually, PHAINON is the last one you see before you close your eyes, and the first one who greets you when you open your eyes. So why was the Prince here before him?

MYDEIMOS, who orders PHAINON to put away the breakfast tray and instead pass on his message to the cook to prepare a basketful of food. When PHAINON asks about the occassion, MYDEIMOS only gives a short curt answer about how he will be out the Palace that day.

MYDEIMOS, who greets you with a new dress when you wake up. You’re taken aback by the sudden gesture, and when you ask what it’s for, he tells you that he’s inviting you for a picnic.

PHAINON, who waves to you as the carriage leaves, leaving him behind in the Palace. He curls his fist and takes a deep breath: what is he thinking? You’re betrothed to his prince, he should not be feeling anything towards you, though that’s easier said than done. Even if you had felt the same things towards him, PHAINON could never give you the life you deserve — he’s no prince. He doesn’t have the power to give you the life of comfort you deserve.

MYDEIMOS, who listens intently as you tell him about the meal you cooked with PHAINON the other day, praising the knight to be an adept cook. He nods at the things you say, but in his head, MYDEIMOS is thinking about how happier you seem to be with PHAINON. Of course you would choose the friendly, caring knight over the broken prince, unable to express his emotions. Could he ever be the husband you deserve?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

check out my other royalty au works on my masterlist!

©2025 starrygazers. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ if you liked this, consider buying me a ko-fi! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[zosin-ya]

Topic 8 - [ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴᴅᴇx]

Summary: Surviving on instant noodles, you order takeout in the middle of exam prep—what you didn’t expect was your delivery guy to be a ridiculously hot, tattooed biker. Even more surprising? He’s a fellow med student at your university. As good as it sounded, he had a complicated past with an obsessive Ex who starts to target you.

tags.: One Piece, Law x Reader, SFW & NSFW, slow burn romance, Modern AU, Penguin and Shachi as flatmates, fashion-designer uncle Corazon, Laws parents, Laws crazy Ex, Strawhats as your friends (+ Bonney), protective Law, mentioned of his dead sister, also mentions of Laws trauma

a.n.: I pulled this story out of my ass and it’s rather spontaneous how I write the story. If you have ideas, I’m open to them 🖤

status: [ongoing] last updated March 14th 2025

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1 - ʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀʏ

An awkward encounter with the handsome delivery guy, who hardly speaks to you, yet somehow makes your heart skip a beat with his pretty face.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 2 - ɪᴄᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴇʀ

Law was at your door once again, this time out of breath and visibly stressed. You offer him something to drink, which sparks a conversation that eventually leads to an exchange of numbers.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 3 - ꜱᴛᴜᴅʏ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ

At the café, you met up for a study date and saw a more relaxed, yet still exhausted, side of Law. Penguin showed up, clearly curious as to why Law was hanging out with someone from his university—especially since he rarely spent time with those people.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 4 - ʙᴏʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ

Penguin couldn't keep his mouth shut about Law meeting you, which led him and Shachi to bombard him with questions. It was just a study date, right? No big deal. His flatmates quickly realized how oblivious he was. Or was he just denying any meaning, trying to protect himself from another crazy relationship.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 5 - ʟᴀᴛᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜰᴜɴ

Law invites you to a party, and after a few drinks, the two of you start to loosen up around each other. So much that the bathroom becomes a short lived make out spot.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 6 - ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴏꜱᴇ (n.sfw)

After you forgot your keys at home and had no where to stay, Law casually offers his apartment for the night without any second intentions. Though the heat from the make out session still lingering in the air.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 7 - ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ ɪᴛ (n.sfw)

You meet Laws kind-hearted uncle, Rosinante, and learn more about his complex family history. What was supposed to be a casual, cozy game night with Law quickly takes an unexpected and more intimate turn.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 8 - ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜꜱ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀᴍᴇɴᴛ

A girl you've never met before, starts a chit chat with you during an uni event, you being immediately drawn in by her friendly, outgoing nature. Before you knew it, she invited you to a small party where she hinted you could make some valuable connections. Little did you realize, networking with a biker gang wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for boosting your CV.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 9 - ᴄʜᴀᴏᴛɪᴄ ɢᴀɴɢ

You dearly needed a girl's night with your friends after all what had happened. Law came to pick you up, yet got dragged into the chaos of a spontaneous party with your friends. Someone save this guy.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 10 - ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇ? n.sfw)

This day should have been special, with you and Law celebrating your academic milestone together with friends and family. Yet, Laws private and closed off personality shots back at him, causing you to break down.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 11 - ʙᴜʀᴅᴇɴ

It had been weeks since you had talked to Law, feeling drained from the past events. You needed time to figure the relationship out, which caused you to run away from talking completely and be confronted with a storm, none of you were ready to face.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 12 - ɴᴇᴡ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴꜱ (n.sfw)

Trying to mend the damage he had caused, Law makes an effort to open up to you this time. He shared pieces of his past, including hobbies he’d long buried. He never anticipated that attending Zoro’s Kendo tournament with you would reignite an old spark within him—or that it would stir a newfound desire to impress you.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 13 - ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴀʟʟɪᴇꜱ

Two unexpected intruders—familiar faces no less—show up at your door, shocked to find you inside. Hired to break into what turned out to be the wrong apartment, Kid and Killer aren’t prepared for your defiance. Mustering all the courage you have, you scare them off and waste no time alerting Law, who doesn’t take kindly to their mistake and pays them a visit.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 14 - ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ (n.sfw)

You call an emergency meeting with your friends to figure out how to deal with Law’s unhinged ex—who crossed the line by sending two punks to break into your home. The discussion quickly turns chaotic, with no real solution in sight. But amidst the frustration and tension, something shifts. The situation brings out a side of you that no one, not even you, had fully realized before.

[sleekervae]

Flickers | the projectionist (johnny) x reader

Masterlist

A/N: had this idea knocking around in my head for a few days. And while still not clear on his real name in the movie, I'm going with Johnny for simplicity sake.

Pairing: the projectionist (johnny) x fem!reader

Summary: late night at the cinema and a salacious book has poor johnny in a bind for his colleague.

Warnings: erotic writing, heavy smut, oral, penetration, nudity

Word Count: 4,436

Johnny first met Sophie on the tail end of a smoky September evening, the air thick with the scent of roasted peanuts from the vendor outside the theater. She was leaning against the wall near the alley, cigarette perched between her fingers, looking every bit like she belonged in one of those French pictures he sometimes screened after hours. Her boss—a producer Johnny had worked with before—had sent her ahead to fetch some reels, but it was clear from the way she moved, slow and deliberate, that Sophie wasn’t the type to rush.

She was all sharp cheekbones and sharper wit, her dark hair pinned back haphazardly as though she’d stopped caring halfway through the task. When she introduced herself, her tone was low and indifferent, like she wasn’t used to people looking twice at her. Johnny had glanced down at her shoes—simple flats, scuffed at the edges—and wondered if she realized how much attention her quiet presence commanded.

At first, they only spoke in passing, exchanging a few words while Sophie handled errands for her boss. But over time, she lingered. She’d stay after picking up reels or dropping off schedules, watching him from the doorway as he adjusted the projector.

“I didn’t think anyone still cared about this old junk,” she remarked once, arms crossed, her voice carrying a trace of amusement.

Johnny looked up from splicing a reel, the dim light catching on her pale skin. “Well, someone’s gotta make sure it runs smooth. Besides, this junk’s how I pay rent.”

She laughed—a low, throaty sound—and it hit him harder than he expected.

It wasn’t long before she started coming around on her own time, sitting in the empty theater while he threaded film for the midnight show. She’d sit near the back, legs crossed, watching the flickering images with an intensity that made him uneasy in the best way. One night, she waited until the credits rolled to ask him:

“You ever think about what’s not on the screen? The stuff they won’t show?”

It was an odd question, but Sophie was full of those. Her curiosity was sharp and relentless, poking at ideas most people shied away from. Johnny didn’t know what to say, so she filled the silence herself, telling him about the scripts she was working on.

“They’re not normal,” she admitted, the word slipping out like a taunt. “Producers don’t like ‘em. Too weird. Too… honest.”

She wouldn’t let him read them at first, claiming they weren’t ready. But she couldn’t resist teasing him with snippets. A line of dialogue here, a provocative idea there. The more she shared, the more Johnny’s imagination took off. Her writing was raw, full of heat and longing that had nothing to do with love and everything to do with desire.

It wasn’t just her words that got under his skin. It was the way she said them—leaning close, her voice barely above a whisper, like she was sharing a secret too dangerous for anyone else to hear. Her eyes would linger on him, searching for a reaction, and he’d have to fight the urge to shift under her gaze.

Johnny wasn’t sure when he started picturing her in the scenarios she described, but once the idea took root, it spread fast. He’d catch himself watching her hands as she gestured, wondering what they’d feel like on his skin. He started noticing the curve of her lips when she spoke, the slight rasp in her voice that made everything she said sound like a proposition.

He told himself it was just curiosity—admiration for her creativity, maybe—but the truth sat heavier in his chest. Johnny was down bad for Sophie, the way she embraced the messy, carnal parts of human nature without apology. She made him feel like a character in one of her stories, teetering on the edge of something raw and thrilling.

And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to see how far she’d let him fall.

It was one of those late nights where the air in the projection room felt heavy, the low hum of the machines lulling them into an easy rhythm. Sophie had perched herself in the chair in the corner, legs crossed, cigarette forgotten between her fingers.

“You really want to read it?” she asked, her voice a little too casual.

Johnny didn’t look up from the reel he was inspecting, though his hands faltered for half a beat. “Been asking you for weeks, haven’t I?”

Sophie smirked, but there was something sharper underneath it, like she was testing him. She reached into her bag and pulled out a neatly folded stack of pages, bound with a frayed ribbon.

“Fine. But don’t blame me if it messes with your head,” she said, tossing it onto the counter.

He wiped his hands on his trousers before picking it up, the weight of her work feeling heavier than it should’ve. The title scrawled across the top in her loopy handwriting read Flickers.

Johnny picked the script off the counter, his fingers brushing the ribbon binding it together. The room felt warmer now, Sophie’s proximity a heavy presence that made it harder to focus. He flipped through the pages until he landed on a scene near the middle—words catching his eye like fireflies in the dark.

He cleared his throat, half for himself and half to test the waters. “Mind if I…”

Sophie raised a brow, but there was a softness to her smirk. “Go ahead... If you dare.”

The challenge in her voice spurred him on, and he began to read.

“'Paul's hands traced the curves of her body, firm and possessive. His voice was a husky whisper in her ear as he demanded, "Tell me how much you want me." Lucille gasped, her body responding eagerly, guiding his hands to where she needed him most.'

“'His grip tightened around her as he felt her body molding to his touch, her warmth enveloping him. His tongue darted out to taste her skin, and she shivered beneath him in response. She arched her back, pushing herself closer to him as he traced patterns over her stomach and sides with his fingers. The softness of her skin sent shockwaves of desire through him, and he growled low in his throat. His hands found their way up to cup her breasts, kneading them gently before pulling on her nipples through the fabric of her shirt. Lucille threw her head back with a soft moan, the sound echoing in the room. Her scent was intoxicating—a mix of sweet perfume and primal need.”

Johnny paused, his voice trailing off as he glanced up. Sophie had turned her face away, her dark lashes casting shadows against her cheeks. But she wasn’t as indifferent as she pretended to be—he caught the faintest curve of her lips, a smile threatening to give her away.

“Keep going,” she said softly, her tone lacking the teasing edge it usually carried.

Johnny swallowed, taking a seat in the chair beside her, “You sure?”

Her eyes flicked to his, holding his gaze for just a moment too long. “I’m sure.”

He returned to the page, his voice lower now, threading through the quiet tension between them.

“‘You like watching me unravel,’ Paul murmured, his hands tightening on her waist. ‘Does it make you feel powerful?’

“She smiled—a wicked, knowing smile that sent a shiver down his spine. ‘It makes me feel alive.’

“With one swift motion, Paul pulled back Lucille's bustier, revealing supple curves that seemed endless in the dim light. He ran his hands along the smooth expanse of skin, tracing patterns that made her gasp and squirm beneath him. His lips followed suit, kissing and nipping along her collarbone and down towards her breasts. They stood tall and proud under his admiring gaze, begging for attention. With a soft sigh, he bent down to capture one nipple in his mouth, sucking gently at first before increasing the pressure. Lucille cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair as she arched her back off the bed.”

Johnny stopped again, unable to ignore the way Sophie shifted closer to him, her knee brushing against his thigh. “This is… something else,” he murmured, not realizing he’d said it out loud.

Sophie finally turned to him, her cheeks flushed but her smile unshaken. “You like it?”

He let out a low laugh, setting the script down but keeping his eyes on her. “I think you’re trying to get me in trouble.”

She bit her lip, that wicked, knowing smile from the page mirrored on her face now. “Or maybe I just know what I want,” she said, her voice quiet but sure, “Keep going,” she urged.

The room suddenly felt claustrophobic as the scene unfold. His heart raced as Paul buried himself between Lucille's legs, read how she moaned and screamed for him, their encounter brimming with unbridled desire. Every word and gesture built to a tantalizing climax, sending Johnny's mind reeling with fantasies. But it wasn't Paul or Lucille anymore; it was him and Sophie. Her seductive smirk and intense gaze held him spellbound, igniting a fire within him that he could not resist.

“You write like this all the time?” he asked, his voice rougher than he intended.

“Only when I feel inspired,” Sophie replied, standing now. She stepped closer, her movements deliberate, as though testing just how far she could push him. “What do you think?”

“I think…” He set the pages down, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “I think you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Her lips curled into a grin. “Do I?”

The silence between them thickened, charged with all the things Johnny wasn’t saying. The way her scripts had lodged themselves in his brain, filling the quiet moments with flashes of heat. The way she seemed to know, without him ever admitting it, how badly he wanted her.

Sophie closed the distance between them, stopping just short of touching him. “If you’re too shy to finish, I can always act it out for you,” she teased, her voice barely above a whisper.

Johnny’s breath hitched. He couldn’t tell if she was joking, but the way her eyes lingered on his lips told him she wasn’t.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned, though his voice lacked conviction.

Sophie smirked, leaning in until her mouth was inches from his. “Who says I can’t?”

And that was it—whatever thin thread of control Johnny had been clinging to snapped. He closed the gap, his hands gripping her waist as their mouths collided. She tasted like smoke and something sweeter, her body pressing into his as though daring him to take more.

The pages of her script fluttered to the floor, forgotten, as Johnny pulled her into his lap, her legs falling on either side of him. Sophie’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, her breath hitching against his lips. She didn’t hold back—her movements were confident, commanding, like she’d been waiting for this moment as much as he had.

For Johnny, it wasn’t just about the heat of the moment. It was the way Sophie unraveled him, her words and presence stripping him bare until there was nothing left but want. She made him feel like he was part of her story, and for once, he didn’t care if it had a happy ending.

The room was awash with raw desire and urgency as Johnny's hands fumbled to undo the intricate clasps of Sophie's bustier, the fabric falling away to reveal the soft curve of her skin. Sophie's nails grazed down his chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, as she leaned in to capture his lips hungrily. The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as Johnny tore off her dress in a rush, his movements desperate and primal.

Sophie gasped against his mouth, arching into his touch as he explored every inch of her exposed skin. Her hands were everywhere at once, tugging at his tie and unbuttoning his shirt with a fervor that matched his own. The air crackled with electricity between them, passion igniting like a wildfire that threatened to consume them whole.

Their kiss deepened, becoming a symphony of need and longing that echoed through the room. Johnny's hands roamed over Sophie's body, memorizing every curve and

dip, every smooth plane and luscious valley that lay beneath the surface. He traced her spine with reverence, his fingers dancing down the small of her back and around to cup her hip, pulling her against him in a desperate plea for contact.

Sophie whimpered into his mouth, her own hands finding their way beneath his shirt, tracing the muscular lines of his abdomen as she felt the heat radiating off of him. The fire between them was building, growing in intensity until it threatened to consume them both in its fervor. She couldn't remember ever feeling this way before – so alive, so consumed by a need that seemed to pulse through her very veins.

And then Johnny's lips were on her neck, trailing kisses down to where her pulse raced wildly beneath the surface. And despite herself, Sophie's knees began to weaken. His teeth gently nipped at the tender skin of her shoulder, sending shivers of desire coursing through her veins. She could feel the heat from his body seeping into hers, warming her to her very core. And as much as she tried to fight it, it was impossible to deny the sheer power that he held over her in this moment.

The room was spinning with a mix of lust and adrenaline, the two of them lost in a whirlwind of passion that threatened to consume them both. Johnny's breath was hot against her skin, his lips trailing kisses down her neck and across her collarbone until he finally reached the delicate curve of her breasts.

She gasped as he took one in his mouth, sucking gently on the taut nipple while running his hands down over her hips and towards the sway of her backside. Sophie moaned softly into his hair, her hands fisting in his shirt as she arched her back, the pleasure coursing through her. This was beyond anything she'd ever experienced, anything she could write—a fire burning bright within her that only he could fan into flames.

As his lips moved from one breast to the other, Sophie's breath became ragged, her body trembling with need. Her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer still. She felt like she was dancing on the edge of something dangerous and exhilarating, and she was powerless to resist it.

Johnny's hands trailed down her back, tracing the curve of her hips before sliding beneath her, lifting her onto the chair. She let out a soft gasp as he settled her onto the wooden frame, his strong arms supporting her weight. The room was filled with a heavy silence punctuated only by their ragged breathing and the sound of fabric rustling as they tore at each other's clothes.

With an unspoken demand, Johnny lifted her gently and placed her on the small wooden table in the corner of the room. Her breath hitched as she realized how exposed she was, how vulnerable she felt. But in that moment, she didn't want to be anywhere else. She wanted him to take her, to claim her with a passion and intensity that was like nothing she'd ever known.

Johnny pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his hands firm but tender as they settled on her thighs. “Hold on,” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint.

Sophie blinked, her lips parted in protest, but he silenced her with a smirk that promised he wasn’t going far. He strode to the projection room door, turning the lock with a decisive click that echoed through the space.

“No interruptions,” he said, more to himself than her, before his eyes flicked back to her.

Sophie was still perched on the table, her legs slightly apart, the hem of her skirt riding dangerously high. She looked at him with a mix of confidence and vulnerability, her breath shallow as he crossed the room again.

“And here — I thought you changed your mind,” she teased, though her voice wavered slightly.

Johnny’s grin deepened, his eyes dark and intent as he stepped closer. His hands settled on her waist, drawing her toward the edge of the table with an easy confidence. “Couldn’t have that,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “Not when you look at me like that.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth, his words a whispered promise against her skin. “Not when I’ve been dying to know how far you’ll let me go.”

Her gasp turned into a moan as his hands slid down, tracing the curve of her hips before tugging her closer. Sophie gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white, as Johnny’s mouth moved to her neck, his stubble rough against her soft skin.

“Johnny…” she whispered, her voice breathless and pleading.

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips trailing lower. “You don’t want anyone hearing us, do you?”

He continued, his touch feather-light as he traced the delicate line of her stomach, her skin quivering beneath his fingers. Sophie bit her lip, her eyes closing as he marveled at the way her body arched towards him.

As she felt his fingers slide under the hem of her undergarments, she caught her breath in a sharp gasp. He looked up at her from where he knelt, his eyes dark with desire and a hint of fear. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the pounding of their hearts.

Sophie nodded, an array of emotions playing across her face as she met his gaze. "Yes," she murmured, her voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and fear. She wanted this; she needed this.

Johnny's eyes locked onto hers for a moment longer before they flicked lower, the heat of desire still smouldering in their depth. He took a shuddering breath, his hands steady as he pulled her underwear down, revealing the most intimate part of her. For a moment, he simply looked, drinking in the sight of her before him.

Sophie's heart threatened to burst from her chest, the sight of Johnny looking at her like that making her feel powerful and delicate all at once. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to pull him closer and reassure him that she was alright. But she also craved the touch of his skin against hers, the warmth of his body enveloping hers in passion's embrace.

With a deep inhale, Johnny let his fingers brush against the sensitive skin before him. Sophie let out a soft moan, her eyes fluttering shut as waves of pleasure washed over her. His touch was gentle yet firm, as if he were caressing a delicate flower with utmost care. She felt herself growing warmer, her body trembling with anticipation.

Johnny's eyes met hers, the intensity of his gaze making her heart flutter. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin as he placed soft kisses along her inner thigh. Sophie let out a shaky sigh, her hands gripping the edge of the table tightly as she felt the world around her fade away.

There was something magical about this moment, something that she knew would stay with her for eternity. Johnny's experience and passion were intertwined with her own desires, creating a symphony of touch and emotion. His hands traced delicate patterns on her skin, sending shivers down her spine and causing a fire to ignite within her core.

As his lips brushed against her folds, Sophie's breath hitched. The room was filled with the sounds of pleasure and need, of their bodies speaking volumes without a single word being spoken. She could feel Johnny's warmth at her entrance, the anticipation of what was to come making her tremble with excitement.

Johnny then descended upon Sophie's slick, wet pussy like a starved animal. His tongue delved into her folds, tasting her sweet nectar, as his lips wrapped around her clit and sucked gently. Sophie's back arched out as a moan escaped her lips. Her fingers threaded through Johnny's hair, pulling him closer as he devoured her.

His tongue darted in and out of her pussy, fucking her with it like a little cock. He teased her entrance, tasting her sweet juices before plunging deeper. Sophie's hips bucked as she ground herself against his face, desperate for more. Her moans grew louder as her pleasure built, her breath hitching with every flick of Johnny's tongue against her clit.

Her legs trembled as she felt her orgasm building. Johnny's skilled tongue worked her into a frenzy, his fingers digging into her thighs as he held her in place. She could feel herself on the edge, ready to tumble over into pure ecstasy. With one final flick of his tongue, Sophie came undone.

Her orgasm tore through her like a tidal wave. Sophie's eyes rolled back into her head as she cried out in pleasure. Johnny continued to lick and suck at her pussy, drawing out every last shiver and shudder of her orgasm. When Sophie finally came down from her high, Johnny looked up at her with a smug smile on his face.

"Good girl," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You taste so fucking sweet."

Sophie could only blush and pant in response, still reeling from the most intense orgasm of her life. Johnny's mouth on her pussy had been filthy and depraved, but she couldn't get enough. She knew she'd be begging for more in no time.

With a smile that promised more, Johnny stood and pulled his pants down, his impressive erection bobbing in front of them. Sophie smiled up at him, her heart hammering in her chest. She reached out to him, her fingers tracing the length of his cock.

"Take me," she whispered, her voice full of desire. "I’m all yours, Johnny."

Johnny positioned himself at Sophie's entrance and slowly pushed inside. She gasped at the sensation of him filling her up, stretching her tight hole until she was overflowing with him. He began to move, his body slamming into hers with a rhythm that matched their hearts' desires.

Sophie's eyes fluttered closed as she felt Johnny's cock pound against her insides. She met every stroke with a moan or a whimper, her nails digging into his shoulders as she held onto him for dear life. The room was filled with the sounds of their bodies colliding—skin slapping against skin, breaths becoming ragged gasps for air.

The air in the room was thick, their bodies entwined in a rhythm that left no room for restraint. Johnny's movements were deliberate yet teasing, each thrust pulling a gasp from Sophie's lips. His mouth found her ear, his breath hot and unrelenting as he whispered.

"Is this how you pictured it?" he murmured, his tone laced with a wicked edge. "When you wrote those words—was it me you imagined, Sophie?"

Her hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as she tried to find balance amidst the chaos he was unleashing on her. She couldn’t answer, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe beyond the sensation of him inside her.

"You’ve got a filthy imagination," Johnny continued, his voice dripping with mock admonishment, though his thrusts deepened with every word. "I read every line, you know. Every single detail. Do you squirm when you write it? Did you get this wet just thinking about it?"

Sophie’s moan was all the response he needed, her head falling back as she clung to him, desperate for more. Her body betrayed her, arching into his touch, meeting every movement with equal fervor.

He chuckled, low and rough, his teeth grazing her neck. "Thought so. You’re squeezing me like you never want me to stop." His hand slid to her thigh, lifting it higher to anchor her against him. "So tell me, Sophie—am I better than your story?"

Her breath hitched, and she forced herself to meet his gaze, her cheeks flushed with heat. “Y-you’re better,” she managed, though her voice was barely a whisper, “So fucking better.”

"That’s what I thought," Johnny growled, his lips crashing against hers as he drove them both closer to the edge. Sophie arched her back as he reached between them to rub circles on her clit with his thumb.

"Come for me again," he commanded, nibbling at her ear while still teasing her clit. With a cry, Sophie obeyed, her body shuddering with pleasure. Her walls clenched around him, milking his cock as he continued to move inside her.

Never had she felt so alive, so desired. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex as their bodies moved as one, lost in the haze of desire and passion. Johnny's lips found hers once more, their tongues tangling in a messy dance of lust and love.

He pulled out at the last moment, his come splattering against her swollen clit. She cried out in ecstasy as he filled her up again, painting her insides with his release. And then they collapsed together in a heap on the table, their breathing ragged and heavy as they came down from their high.

Sophie couldn't believe it—she'd never felt anything like this before. This raw, unrestrained passion that burned bright between them. As she looked into Johnny's eyes, she knew that whatever words she’d written couldn’t truly capture the essence of their connection. Not like this.

Their bodies, slick with sweat and desire, lay entwined, hearts pounding in sync with the fading echoes of their passionate embrace. As their breaths slowly returned to normal, Sophie traced her fingers through the damp hair on Johnny's chest, marveling at the man before her. He was more than just a character in her story; he was real, and he had brought her words to life in a way she never thought possible.

Johnny turned his head towards her hand and captured it in his, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. "That was... incredible," he whispered, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears of overwhelming emotion. "You truly are a wordsmith, Sophie."

She smiled, the corners of her lips turning up in a knowing grin. "I can't take all the credit. You helped bring the idea to life."

He chuckled softly and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Well then, let's write another chapter, shall we?"

[chelseypprimrose]

The Boy’s a Liar / bfd!Negan x Reader / no-apocalypse AU 🧟

Warnings: daddy kink, breeding kink, boyfriendsdad!negan, oral (female receiving) use of belt, squirting, swearing, use of degrading names, general Negan ness, voyerism, unprotected sex, reader is a little evil to her boyfriend : NOT PROOFREAD YET

Summary: Reader finds out her boyfriend cheated on her via a Snapchat story, she takes sweet revenge with her boyfriend’s hot as fuck dad.

A/N: I’ve never wrote for breeding kink before so please be kind lol 🤍 I had a lot of fun with this one!

“Fucking waste of my damn time.” You cursed yourself, boys are so stupid. You couldn’t stop watching the Snapchat story of your boyfriend’s best friend, your boyfriend so obviously kissing a woman that wasn’t you. Not a care in the world, disrespecting you and the values you held in a loyal relationship. You didn’t know it this was a common occurrence that you just hadn’t noticed or a drunken one off. Not that it mattered, it was still a betrayal of your trust.

Eyes glossy with tears, you were driving towards your boyfriend’s house that he shared with his father, Negan. You didn’t even have a speech prepared, what you were going to say, if this was the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, your mind was running at a mile a minute.

Pulling into the driveway, you turned off the engine and put your car keys into your handbag, getting out and walking with purpose to the front door, your heels slamming on the concrete floor. You knocked on the door loudly, no answer. You knocked again, your hand shaking with annoyance.

The door finally opened but it wasn’t your boyfriend who stood before you, it was Negan.

“Hey doll, what you doing here so early? I was just making breakfast if you wanted any?” He offered before he took a proper look at your face, noticing the black tears of mascara that ran softly down your face.

“I don’t know what kind of fucked up morals you’ve taught your son, Negan, but I thought you were a better man. Obviously I was wrong.” You said with spite, you were letting your feelings be known to anyone who would listen. It was just unfortunate that it was the wrong person to direct your anger towards.

Technically, Negan hadn’t done anything wrong, but he was guilty by association in your current messed up state. You just needed to vent at someone, and Negan was the closest person to your boyfriend.

“Woah, doll? What’s wrong, what’s he done?” Negan moved aside so you could come in, walking towards the kitchen, the smell of fresh bacon and egg filling your nostrils. You placed your handbag on the kitchen counter, arms crossed, your hand playing with your necklace.

“He went out last night and he kissed a girl, I saw it on his friend’s Snapchat.” You managed to get out through a small sob, your eyes filling up with tears again. You couldn’t believe you were crying like this in front of his dad, you felt embarrassed.

“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry dollface, I didn’t raise the kid to do shit like that, we are loyal to our women.” Negan sighed, his hand running through his salt and pepper beard, trying to find the words to make the pain in your heart go away. His eyes watched you as you grabbed a tissue from the box placed on the dining table, using your front phone camera as a mirror to wipe your tears away.

“You know what though, it might be a blessing in disguise.” Your head whipped around to give him a look of disbelief, in what world could this be a blessing? “What the fuck do you mean, my boyfriend cheated on me? How could that even remotely be a blessing?!” Feeling your anger building up again, Negan walked around to your side of the counter, towering over you, his head coming down to whisper in your ear. “Oh please, Y/N. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me, remember that party a couple months ago, goddamn doll, you couldn’t take your eyes off my dick in them swim shorts.” He gave a small laugh, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear, his eyes watching your chest raise with each breath you took. “You need a real man to take care of you, I heard you with him. I’m experienced enough to know when a woman is faking it to spare a man’s feelings.” Your eyes met with his, how on earth could he tell. You couldn’t even deny it, while your boyfriend was good enough, he was too soft with you, complaining when you’d asked him to just choke you a little bit. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt you, he’d said, your eyes rolling in annoyance.

“How the fuck do you know that?” You asked, his cologne hitting you in the face as he got ever so closer to you. “Like I said doll, I know women. You want to be played with don’t you? You want someone who knows how to please you properly, give into it doll. I could give you all the pleasure you’d ever need.” You let out a soft moan, knowing this was wrong but your petty nature taking over, not only was this such an evil way to get back at him, you longed for Negan. He was right on the nose with how you looked at him, you’d always found him attractive, just trying to stop yourself from jumping his bones whenever the two of you were around each other.

“Fuck it, I’ve always wanted to know what your cock feels like, deep inside me.” You whispered out, your hands wrapping around Negan’s neck as he captured your lips in a kiss. His hands finding their way to your ass, squeezing the round globes hard.

He lifted you up, walking towards the stairs. “I’m going to have you begging for mercy when I’m finished with you doll.”

It was almost animalistic, months of repressed attraction coming to a conclusion. You’d never have even thought about your late night fantasies coming true, until this very moment that they had. Negan kicked the door to his bedroom open, not bothering to close it behind him. Placing you on the bed, his hands grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt to pull it over his head revealing his toned torso and arms, his tattoo that you loved so much coming into view.

Your hands started to feel up on his chest, wanting skin to skin contact with him so desperately. You tried to sit up a little to take your tank top off but Negan stopped you in your tracks, slamming your arms down above your own head. “Don’t you fucking dare doll, that’s my job.” A dark look coming across his face, he ripped the tank top off you hastily. His eyes glued to your bare chest, you hadn’t bothered to put a bra on today, in a sleepy haze just wanting to get over here to question your boyfriend. “Such beautiful breasts doll, he’s going to regret giving you up.” Negan stated as he took one of your erect nipples into his mouth, a soft bite as he did. You moaned out, watching his every move, his eyes locked to yours.

Leaning up, Negan unbuckled your belt sliding it out of your jean loops, grabbing your hands, wrapping the belt around your wrists as your hands were placed back above your head. The leather tight and digging into your skin, only turning you on more, heat rushing to your pussy. Negan took the time to unbutton your jeans, pulling them down your legs revealing your small black thong that left little to the imagination, pulling them to the side, Negan licked a strip starting from your opening to the top, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your boyfriend never took the time to ever focus on your pleasure, either because he couldn’t be bothered or he just didn’t care, you didn’t know.

You felt the extra wetness as Negan spat right on your pussy, bringing his fingers to slowly enter you. Starting at a slow, agonising pace he could feel your body relaxing as you let your body give in to the pleasure you were feeling. You wanted nothing more than to grip onto his hair, but your bound hands didn’t allow it. As he felt you relax, he quickened his pace up, moans leaving your lips loud and clear. “Such beautiful noises for me slut, and I know these are real.” You felt your core tightening as you kept building up wave after wave of pleasure, you’d never even realised you could get so close to orgasm so fast, Negan caught on to this and took his fingers out of you, dripping in your juices. He forced his fingers into your mouth, you sucking the wetness off like it was your last meal.

“You fucking dirty girl, you like the way you taste?” He asked, his fingers still in your mouth as he pulled his shorts down, revealing his boxers to you. “Yes, I love it so much. I need to fill me up Negan, ruin me please.” You managed to get out through heavy breathing and his fingers. He chuckled, manoeuvring your body so you were on all fours, facing the mirrored closet doors, next to the entrance of the bedroom. “I’m going to fuck you so dumb baby girl, you’ll forget your own name when I’m done with you. Going to get you drunk on my cock. You won’t even want another man to touch you.” You whimpered, seeing Negan pulling his large cock out of his boxer shorts, them falling to the ground. His tip was red, leaking with precum, standing erect. He looked like a Greek god, his posture so manly and authoritative. He lined up at your opening and wasted no time, starting at a hard and fast pace. “Oh my god, Negan yes! Fuck!” Your nails dug into your own hands, the leather of the belt still digging into you causing pain but you didn’t care, the feeling was too good to complain. Your toes curled with pleasure in your heels, Negan’s hands gripped on your hips like he was holding on for dear life. “Shit doll, you feel so fucking good, so tight for Daddy.” You eyes widened at the nickname, you’d always wanted to experiment with a daddy kink but he’d never allow it, said it made him feel weird. You couldn’t believe how much this man was filling your darkest fantasies, you felt like maybe your boyfriend cheating was a blessing in disguise after all. Negan’s hand came down to slap your ass, the motion leaving a good red mark on your cheek. You looked towards the large mirrors in front of you, seeing Negan’s body go through the motions, his hips bucking against your ass as he fucked you deep. “Yes daddy, I’m so tight for you, you feel so good inside me.”

Neither you or Negan heard the front door open, your boyfriend finally getting back from his night out, guilt filling him up as he remembered what had happened last night. He knew that what he did was wrong, that kissing that woman was wrong. Still tired and hungover, he at first thought his imagination was playing tricks on him when he heard moaning coming from upstairs, he didn’t think his dad was dating anyone, a look of confusion coming onto his face. He made his way up the stairs, looking through the open gaps of the banister, his features wrinkling in disgust and disbelief when he saw you, head thrown back in pleasure as you met Negan’s thrusts in a timed motion. He rushed up the whole flight of stairs until he got to the door.

“What the fuck is happening here?!” You heard the voice of your boyfriend, your eyes opening with a gasp, you thought Negan would stop, embarrassed that the two of you had been caught in such a way but he went even faster in and out of you, your hands trying to grab some of the blanket that was at the end of the bed, failing miserably due to the fact of your hands being bound together.

“Hey son, just treating your girl to a proper fuck, you were stupid as fuck to let this one go, she’s one dirty fucking girl! Maybe this will teach you not to go round sticking your dick in other women when you’ve got an absolute diamond at home. Now stand there and watch boy.” Negan laughed, your eyes meeting with your boyfriend, you couldn’t help with the moan that escaped your lips as Negan moved down to grab your chin, his head coming to the side of your ear. “Tell him doll, tell him how good daddy’s fucking you.” You smirked, looking out the corner of your eyes to look at Negan. “So fucking good daddy, filling me up, better than he ever could. Please keep fucking me like this daddy.” You whimpered, your lips meeting with Negan as he kept his eyes open, staring at his son.

Your boyfriend didn’t know what to do, he rushed out of the room, slamming the front door behind him as he was trying to gather his thoughts together.

“That was so fucking dirty doll, oh my goodness! I can feel you getting close girl, let yourself cum all over my cock. I want to finish inside you, fill your body with my baby.” You screamed out as your orgasm took over your body, black spots coming into your vision. Your pussy felt like it had a death grip on Negan’s cock, his thrusts coming to slower pace as he let you ride out your orgasm. “Pull out of me, I want to ride you daddy.” Negan didn’t need any more encouragement as he pulled out of you, lying down on his back as you dug your heels into the mattress, sat on top of him. “Be careful with those things, don’t want a hole in my mattress dollface. You look fucking good in them though, sexy as fuck.” He said, as he shoved his cock into your dripping hole. You bounced up and down, even with your orgasm taking energy out of you, you couldn’t stop, you needed Negan like a hardcore drug. His musk mixing with a light sheen of sweat over your bodies. Negan’s hands gripped your ass as he directed your body as you grind into his hips, your second orgasm building up in your core. His cock filling you up, “That’s it baby, bounce on daddy’s cock for me, I want to see my seed dripping out of you.” You quickened your pace, feeling Negan’s cock twitching in you. “That’s it daddy, fill me up with your seed, I want you to fill my pussy up daddy!” You screamed out, uncaring about neighbours being able to hear you, you were too cock-drunk to care. Negan growled, his seed spurting out in you, his hands gripped your hips like a vice, his breathing heavy. You came to your end as well, gushing all over his cock, wetting the bed below you and Negan’s stomach as you squirted for the first time ever in your life. You moaned louder than ever, falling to the side of Negan, his flaccid cock sitting on top of his torso. You both were spent, the only thing that could be heard in the room was heavy breathing. Negan got up slowly from the bed, he released you from the belt, your wrists red and sore. He grabbed a small towel from the on-suite bathroom, cleaning you up from your squirt wetness. He laid back next to you, his arm coming over you to pull you closer, a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Life is never going to be the same again after this doll. Shit, I know it’s wrong to ask but leave him, I’ll treat you better than that stupid boy.” You looked at him, a smile coming across your face. “Negan, you could ask me to do anything right now and I’d say yes, that was the best fuck of my life, Daddy.”

Negan laughed and slapped your ass as he caught you in another sensual kiss.

[glamourscat]

hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii<3333

could I please request some rin okumura x reader dating hcs (fluff ofc) ???

love your writing<333

a/n: thank you <3 also loved this request!! I love Rin an embarassing amount is not even funny anymore lmao

Rin Okumura Dating HCS

Dating rin would be such a wild ride, in the best way possible

He will be so loyal and overprotective, im not crying –jokes i am, i need him so bad

His confession will be sudden (see canon for reference s4 lmao) followed by a moment of silence before he runs off embarrassed and you have to probably chase after him 

He is a bubble of sunshine. He sees you? Done. He is happy. In a way he is like an orange cat

Can be a bit clingy but mostly for how he was raised. Still, he went through so much and he just needs someone by his side to truly understand him. To be there for him when he needs to, like he would do for them. To understand where his need of “clinginess” comes from but especially to see him for Rin and just Rin

We see in the show how he is so caring towards his friends and despite his awkwardness and bluntness, he will not hesitate to be there for his friends. From making them food, to just being there as support

Sure, he might not give the best advices, but he loves you so dearly that somehow the advice despite being rather questionable it works out it in the end lmao

On the matter of cooking… he will make so many things :’) from trying new recipes for you to try and rate them. To bake your favs on anniversaries or special occasions… yeah, husband material right here

Not to mention his protectiveness? Which is not overbearing, it’s just the right amount. He trusts you and he knows you trust him back. And in the chance you're an exorcist too, most likely, during fights his eyes will always look out for you

I can imagine his tail subtly wrapping more and more around you as the relationship grows.

During the friendship stage, it lingers close. Maybe it will wrap around your hand or wrist a few times when he is seeking out touch but doesn’t wanna be too obvious about it

First stage of the relationship, it will grow a bit bolder, wrapping around you longer

Only to reach a long term relationship where his tail is almost constantly around your waist or holding to you subtly, especially in public and crowded areas 

Which, on the matter of the tail, you’re the only one allowed to touch it. From the base, which is an extension of his spine– thus extremely sensitive, to caress the length of it. Also, his pointy ears or fangs, just in general if you’re dating him expect him to be all over you lol 

He is such a cuddle bug. Has to be touching you in some way. Quality time and acts of service are important to him but physical contact beats them all

HE BITES. Affectionately. I feel, you know when you see a cute dog or cat and get cuteness aggression? That happens to him and he will randomly bite gently on your shoulder or arm, sometimes your neck.. With the excuse of leaving a hickie too 

He is so gentle i am not even joking. I can imagine falling asleep together and he will look at you with such soft eyes, his fingers gently caressing your hair and face, letting his slightly pointer nails scratch in a massage way, your scalp. He is so on love it’s not even funny. He is truly in dreamland by just looking at you 

Him being flustered. One month, two years or ten, doesn’t matter. He will always be flustered by you. Especially if you flirt with him or praise him? Yeah, he is gone gone

Dates at the arcade, manga bars and trying out new small restaurants together

I can see him travelling around the world with his s/o. He is such a curious being. One of my favourite scene of his (let’s forget though the way he was treated during it) was when he and the group went to Kyoto for the first time to fight the impure king. He was so giddy at the thought of seeing the kyoto tower  

He is just such a pure guy, despite what he went through and his ancestry. His heart is so big with so much love to give. He will be the type to randomly give you kiss attacks just because 

A bit angsty, I know, but I truly think when the relationship is getting serious serious he will go to Shiro’s grave to tell him about you. In a way, it’s like he is there listening, to give his approval to Rin as he tells him everything about you two 

Overall, dating him is such an experience. Sure, there might be some ups and downs, but you know you will always have him by your side. To grow and learn together, to share stories and silly kisses. Dating Rin means dating your best friend. You two are lovers and partners in crime. Two side of the same coin. 

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[serendipitous-imagines]

Hii I’m here to request fnaf sb (pre-ruin) Headcannons or a fic :) idm either

I would like to request Moon with a child!Reader with insomnia who can’t sleep in the daycare.. like never,,

You can choose the gender of the reader :D

Have a great day/night!!

Hi hello there!! I am so excited to do this reply, I think it is very cute!! I am so sorry for all of the delays. I totally accidentally lost my account info and could not log back in after a comedy of errors with my old laptop. But! I am back now! I hope you enjoy~!

✦ The first time it happened, Moon acted the same as he would whenever a child would refuse to take a nap, picking the child up and tucking them into their cot (and perhaps tying said child down with streamers). However, as incidents of you being unable to sleep began to occur consistently, Moon realizes that there is more of a problem than just 'defiance' or 'not being tired' like other kids in the Daycare. ✦ Moon never asked directly, but he could tell that you had insomnia. From the way you would get so restless even when you were trying your hardest to sleep or the dark circles under your eyes. Truthfully, it worries him that you have such a condition, it causes his code to give him warnings about your state near constantly. ✦ During naptime, Moon will often gently take your hand and take you away from the other children. He does not think that you will wake them up, but he does not want any of the others getting any funny ideas on how they can avoid naptime as well. Not only that, when he brings you into the separate room he is able to entertain you so that you are not laying there restless and miserable in your cot. ✦ Moon notices during the day just how tired you are, how slow you blink, how often you yawn, and how lethargic you are compared to all of the other children. It makes him feel a certain way emotionally that he is not used to experiencing. When the effects of your insomnia are particularly bad, Moon will scoop you up in his arms and walk around with you so that you are not at risk of collapsing and getting hurt. ✦ If you do fall from exhaustion, Moon immediately will get bandages and an ice pack to tend to any of your cuts and scrapes. And then he will watch you all day long and try and keep you on the soft play pads. ✦ After talking with Sun, when it is time for naptime, Moon will make you warm milk with some vanilla extract and honey in it to try and induce sleep. Even though it does not work, Moon is happy to see you have a sweet treat to distract you from the fact that everyone around is asleep. ✦ Moon will sit down beside you on bean bags while overlooking the sleeping children to make sure no one is getting up. While he is not as good as Sun is at arts and crafts, he will try to make bracelets and other quiet activities with you. Honestly, it is one of his favorite parts of the day and you are one of his favorite students in the daycare. He is so much kinder and worrisome to you than he is to the other kids.

FANDOMS ~ MASTERLIST ~ COMMISSIONS ~ REQUESTS

[achenetype]

masterlist for organization purposes

LUKE CASTELLAN

the place i left behind // explicit, reunion sex

i gave you a rare gift (but you didn’t want it)

getting drunk with luke

growing up with luke at camp

sleepily cockwarming luke

KEVIN DAY

i’m in the business of losing your interest // locker room bj

history professor kevin x psu student reader

[imagine-papyrus]

How can I become so great as the Great Papyrus?

I DO NOT KNOW ABOUT BEING AS GREAT, BECAUSE I AM VERY GREAT, BUT I THINK YOU COULD GET PRETTY CLOSE!! ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS:

DRINK LOTS OF MILK SO YOUR BONES ARE VERY STRONG!

BE SOFT AND CUDDLY!

HAVE A REALLY COOL CAPE!

AND THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IS TO BELIEVE THAT ANYONE CAN BE AS GREAT AS YOU, IF THEY REALLY TRY!!

SOMETIMES PEOPLE CAN ONLY TAKE TINY, BABY SIZED STEPS! THIS IS BECAUSE THEY ARE TINY AND BABY SIZED!! THEY NEED YOU TO HELP CARRY THEM AND THEN BOTH OF YOU CAN REACH BEING GREAT TOGETHER!!

SO CONSIDER THIS ME CARRYING YOU, TINY BABY ANON, AND KNOW THAT YOU WILL REACH YOUR HIGH GOAL OF BEING AS GREAT AS ME!! BECAUSE I AM VERY HANDSOME AND VERY TALL!!

NYEH HEH HEH!!

[trafalgass]

HELLAUR I GOT A NEW IDEA IF U CAN PUT IT INTO YOUR OWN WORDS PLEASE 😭 hc of zoro getting forced into singing a part of what the reader produced and making a music video with reader, im convinced he is all grumpy and shy but he is fking amazing at it

Zoro Being Forced To Sing And Make A Music Video With Reader (GN Reader)

Zoro had to make you repeat what you just said

He understood the part when you said that you made a new song

But when you added that you wanted him to sing and be a part of a music video you were producing, he hoped that it was a joke

You probably had to beg him to participate

Singing was a thing, but dancing also? For millions of people to see??? You were asking a bit much of him

But, after explaining what you were expecting of him, what part he had to sing, etc, Zoro gave in

He wasn't too happy about it at first, mumbling the lyrics, blushing and looking away when you'd stare at him

Zoro was complaining a lot, he wasn't made for that kind of stuff, but he wanted to make you happy

The moment Zoro finally decided to give his all, he was amazing

Following your every moves, nailing the lyrics, you knew Zoro was the perfect person to ask to be a part of that project

Zoro even ended up enjoying himself! He wouldn't tell in front of the others, but he trusted you wouldn't tell a soul

Of course you'd be showing the video to the rest of the crew

Zoro wouldn't tell, but he was proud

[pukefactory]

A lot of people have asked me this and I think it’s about time I write something more detailed. So here’s:

PukeFactory’s Guide On Writing Dream BBQ ENA! (My Way)

1. She is a contradiction. Start there.

Dream BBQ ENA is a creature of duality, but not in the gimmicky way. Her emotions swing like a pendulum carved from glass—delicately unhinged. She will comfort you with a whisper like starlight one moment and then yell at a tree for looking at her weird the next. Her logic is surreal but never nonsensical. It’s sincere in a way that bends gravity. She means it, even when it makes no sense. “I think you’re a treasure map, but I lost the key, and also the concept of directions… but I still wanna follow you.”

2. Her voice is fragmented but honest.

Write ENA’s dialogue with a rhythm that feels like a glitched lullaby or a mixtape made of poems and outbursts. Use capitalizations, glitches, or dream-logic metaphors, but keep them emotionally grounded. “OH—oh no. Oh no I said the wrong thing. AGAIN. Hold on—REWIND, REWIND—Can I have a second take of that hug?”

Her speech patterns jump between:

• Soft and strangely poetic:

“You remind me of the feeling before lightning hits.”

• Loud and unfiltered:

“I ATE A ROCK OUT OF SPITE! I’D DO IT AGAIN IF IT MEANT YOU’D FORGIVE ME!”

3. She doesn’t understand relationships—but she craves connection.

ENA often sabotages closeness by accident. She’ll say something jarring mid-hug, not because she’s cruel, but because she doesn’t understand the rules. Intimacy terrifies her. Not because she doesn’t want it, but because she wants it too much. “Wait—was that love? Oh no. I thought it was just heartburn. Or like… something… BEYOND heartburn. Wait, come back!” She learns through interaction. She reflects. She messes up and tries again anyway. She’s endearing because she’s trying—not because she gets it right.

4. Her emotions are surreal landscapes.

Instead of saying “ENA is sad,” describe it like: “She paced in figure eights, muttering apologies to imaginary dogs and invisible moons. Her smile was brittle. Like candy glass.” Or instead of “she’s angry”: “Her eye twitched like a jammed film reel. She bared her teeth at the air, yelling something about betrayal and unripe peaches.” Dream BBQ ENA doesn’t feel things linearly. Her inner world is a Salvador Dalí painting on fire with longing.

5. Her body is unstable; use that.

Dream BBQ ENA’s body shifts and jerks. Her facial expressions glitch. Use this for emotional emphasis:

• When she’s anxious, maybe her smile freezes too long.

• When she’s excited, her voice pitch spikes into television static.

• When she’s afraid, her colors invert or her mouth refuses to close.

Her body is a mood ring coded by a trickster god. Let that reflect her emotional state in the scene.

6. She uses weird metaphors because reality doesn’t fit.

She compares people to:

• Clouds shaped like broken promises.

• Paintings that make her cry for no reason.

• Broken clocks that still tick in time with her heart.

Let her speak in beautiful nonsense. It’s not “random.” It’s instinctive, raw, and emotionally precise. “You’re like… a sunset that happened inside my lungs. You make it hard to breathe. I like it.”

7. She is not just a joke character.

Even when ENA is funny or awkward or loud, she is never just a punchline. There’s a quiet ache under everything she says. She was made to observe, to wander, to experience without truly belonging. Write her with that bittersweetness in mind. “I think I’m the kind of person who touches joy but drops it before it sticks. Like I’ve got oil on my fingers, or maybe I am the oil.”

8. Let her be messy. Let her be sincere.

She doesn’t always say the right thing. Sometimes she runs away instead of talking. Sometimes she laughs too loud at the wrong time. Sometimes she feels more like a glitch than a girl. But when she says “I love you”? She means it. She really, truly means it—even if it sounds like: “If you exploded right now, I’d collect all your little pieces and make a shrine. Because you matter. Because you always did.”

9. Tone: melancholic absurdity with heart.

Dream BBQ ENA lives in a world that feels like a dream and a fever. Your tone should balance whimsy with gravity, joy with grief, glitchy chaos with honest love. She is a reflection of people who feel too much and understand too little—but never stop trying to connect.

10. In summary…

• Speak in fragments, but write with intent.

• Let her emotions be surreal, shifting, and raw.

• Give her dialogue layers: poetic, jarring, sincere, awkward.

• She doesn’t understand love—but she chases it anyway.

• She’s not a clown. She’s a girl made of glitch and feeling and static and sweetness.

[jjwolves]

Hi! just wanna request ( you dont have to abswer ofc) any ena hc you have? ooor maybe some moonie ones?

─ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── Yellow Magic, Blue Miracle ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆─

What: 5 ENA X Reader Headcanons (Romantic)

Who: ENA, from ENA by Joel G

How Much: ~800 words; reading time ~3 mins

Images: Top -> Joel G; Divider -> @cafekitsune

Warnings: None

Genre: Romance

ENA is pretty unaware of romance in general, at least starting out. She doesn’t have a very good reference point for your feelings, nor her feelings for you. But she does start to feel… very strongly about you the more you two hang out and go on adventures together. “I mess up everything I touch! I’m a disaster!” she wailed once when the two of you were stuck in a vat of glitter glue. “Don’t say that!” you yelled back. ENA’s face flickered. “You’re the only reason we even got this far! Give yourself more credit!” How confounding! On one hand, you sounded angry, but on the other, your words were encouraging. This was a puzzle she looked forward to solving.

Upon figuring some things out after reading a scroll on the subject made out of a butterfly’s wing (many thanks, love scroll!), ENA makes a beeline for wherever you are, obstacles be damned. She finds you and, yellow side as polite and unclear as usual, says, “The butterfly scroll has opened the shower curtain for me, and I’m now rinsing off the grime of formality.” “What?” A turn of the head and a pass of the emotional baton. “I was thinking that you loved me… But you don’t even know what I’m talking about!!” Before she can cry more than she already has, you take her hands, one soft and one blocky, and tell her the truth. “ENA, I do love you.” Her eyes widen and she’s buffering. "T-Truly?" But when she recovers from her stutter she’ll be crashing back into sunshine-colors in no time. You two adapt to the new relationship pretty quickly; it’s essentially just your friendship but with a new side unlocked. And she’ll need a new nickname for you to accommodate this, of course. She can’t call you “my good chum” anymore, so she calls you “my good love”. She says that it’s a reasonable meeting point. She assured you that “good” was the most accurate descriptor that she could grant your new title.

ENA is weird, obviously, and while you love her for it, it takes you time to adjust to her behavior now that you’re close. That is to say, she’s not the most stable person. When she thinks you’re hurt, emotionally or physically, she goes into panic mode. If ENA finds you crying, or bruised, or clutching a new sprain, she’s already blue, white and running around, her arms flailing and knocking things over. You’re flattered that it means so much to her… but there are times when it’s seriously inconvenient. If a poor soul enters ENA’s panic bubble when you’re near, she’ll be running over to them to frantically swat them away and cause a scene before running back to you and freaking out some more.

ENA’s sunshine-y side is big on chivalry, and while she wouldn’t hesitate to show a cartoon animal sent to assassinate her the common decency of saying “Hello, good sir!” before running away, she cranks it up to eleven with you around and becomes the most unhinged gentlewoman you may ever meet. She’s the type to run ahead and pull open a door for you, beckoning you inside. “May your feet march on unimpeded, my good love!” You stop at her side and raise an eyebrow. “That’s not the door we need to go in, but thanks.” She blinks once and you wince as she lets it slam shut. Loudly. Like, echoing. Another time, there was a puddle of acid on the ground you could easily walk around (or jump across if you could afford to lose some skin). ENA, sweetheart she is, plucked a coat off a nearby stranger and set it over the puddle for you. “The one I love should never have to fear a goopy fate.” Then the tall, imposing, and now jacketless shadow she stole from turned to you both and his hands became knives, so you two agreed that it was time to get the heck out of there.

Being so close to ENA means that you end up finding new sides to her you didn’t know existed. Everyone knows about her yellow and blue sides if they’ve known her for more than a minute. But she trusts you wholeheartedly with other sides of her that might be less palatable to other people. If she’s drunk, sick, or high off some strange substance or fae mood she encountered, she doesn’t feel the need to suppress her more monstrous forms, where she grows paler, darker, twisted, ceremonial. Instead, ENA just splays herself out on the couch next to you with her horns and flames jutting out of one side and a mischievous pale face smiling eerily from another, crawling over to you and laying in your lap. You both fall asleep pretty easily given the circumstances, resting in the home you found within each other. As you start to drift off, ENA’s regular face, now a symbol resting on her forehead, blushes and closes its eyes.

A/N: I hope that classic ENA is alright for now. I will probably do a Moony one in the near future. Or I may do one where they're both involved and one is the wingman for the other or something similar. Also, when I read ENA fics, I feel like they try to paper over ENA's blue side a lot, but I feel like it's a pretty important part of who she is, at least pre-Temptation stairway, so it's included pretty heavily here. Happy reading! More to come soon...

[starrygazers]

in my streamer era?!

aka: modern au streamer characters and their life with you.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ felt like writing smth more lighthearted (once again procrastinating on my homework)

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ tags : modern au, fluff, crack

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ featuring : Mydei, Phainon

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Phainon ➤ vlogs, irl streams

Phainon loves traveling and talking to people, which makes him the perfect irl streamer. he has a large following due to the fact that he's so polite and friendly to everyone, but somehow his streams always go wrong in the funniest, murphy's-law-esque way

he's streaming in a restaurant and reviewing the food and the next moment a waiter trips and spills a water jug right to his camera and lowers the video quality for the rest of the stream

or he'd be doing a grocery run and the things that he wants are all gone, and he has to ride the bus to the grocery store that's further away, and the bus would blow a tire in the middle of the highway so now he's hungry and stranded with no groceries

these somewhat harmless, silly and unexpected situation keeps his viewers entertained, and the fact that he's always so optimistic about it has viewers donating to his streams to cheer him up whenever something goes wrong

his mods are so protective of him that if anyone starts trolling they'd be banned in an instant

when he first met you, it was by chance, and you don't recognize him (he's a niche even on streaming sites; his fans gatekeep him because they don't want people trolling this nice boy)

he falls in love with you immediately, and it's so obvious by the way he talks about you on stream.

"chat, there's this person," he lays the camera down on the counter and starts unloading his groceries. "and they're so... like... I don't know how to say it. they're so pretty, but also so scary to talk to, but it's not because they're mean or anything, I think it's a me problem. do you guys ever feel like that about someone?"

of course, his chat teases him relentlessly about his newfound crush

once he finally has the guts to ask you out (someone sent him a super donation telling him to, and he feels bad not doing it), you say yes, and he's over the moon.

he introduces you to his chat, and even though you're a bit confused and new to all of this, your personality balances out with Phainon's so well that his community can't help but love you

he doesn't film all your dates; in fact, he rarely ever does. whenever you're on stream, it's because you're both spending time chilling or cooking or doing grocery runs together. he likes to keep a small portion of his life private, and he doesn't want you to feel like you're a tool for his moneymaking scheme.

overall, he's such a nice understanding boyfriend, and if having a camera around you is too much then he'll respect your space and schedule his streams around days that he'll spend alone so he can have you all to himself without any distractions.

Mydei ➤ fighting games, tourneys

you can't convince me this man isn't some sort of fighting game god, particularly tekken, mortal kombat, smash, or something in the likes

he'll spend hours just 1v1-ing randoms on the internet, and he's got his friend code public for anyone who wants to try to challenge him.

this obviously brings a lot of traction because there are a lot of tryhards who want to test if Mydei's the real deal (he is, and he does so while talking shit and not breaking a sweat)

fans enjoy his straightforward, no-bullshit commentary (roasts) while he destroys players with a straight face. it's almost comedic how such a stoic man could have such a petty personality, and chat always teases him for it, but he could not care less (whatever brings in the bag)

"Get out of here if you can't even jablock, man. All that big talk for you to not even take a stock from me is just embarrassing," he spits out. "You're so mean, he's trying his best, yeah, sure, chat. He should try his best recovering from the sauce I'm about to do to him."

he'll sometimes do irl streams when he's in tournaments. he'll do a hotel tour (begrudgingly, because he keeps getting donations forcing him to do it)

he's by no means funny because he tries to be. people just find his mean commentary and resting bitch face amusing, and he's also good looking, so he has a lot of fangirls

he's been in a relationship with you since before he started streaming. matter of fact, you were the one who suggested streaming (because if he's going to spend that many hours on something might as well try to make money from it)

you often walk in on him while he's in his man cave, and you'll stay a bit to chat with him or interact with the chat

if his fangirls are mean to you, they get banned immediately ("MODS!!!! GET THEM THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!!")

he's very proud to call himself your boyfriend. Whenever someone tries to flirt with you in chat, he'll have a quip comeback of some sort about how they can try but you're in a very healthy, very secure relationship

he is unfortunately the type of streamer to have lots of tiktok edits to chase atlantic songs (iykyk)

but he'll only repost his fan edits shipping him and you <3

definitely the type of guy to wear an ugly "I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND" t-shirt out in public, he's just a nerd like that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©2025 starrygazers. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

if you liked this, consider buying me a ko-fi! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[zosin-ya]

OMGGG I LOVE UR BLOG .IT'S ACTUALLY SO FUN TO READ ^^

btw I was just wondering if you could write one head canon of law and zoro where reader tries to remove the hickies they gave reader the next day :)

have a nice day.

Characters: Law and Zoro Content: Reader trying to remove hickeys they gave them. a.n.: rising from the fucking dead, had an impulsive urge to write. Lucky day. Hope you like it.

-Let's be honest, this happens really often. Zoro might be calm and collected but once stuff gets heated, he can't control himself. You're pretty used to this by now, but today, you didn't feel like having a hickey right on your neck. The entire crew knew what you two were doing, but you could live without the comments. Just for today.

-With your pocket mirror in your hand and some ointment Chopper had given you, you applied it while sitting in the Sunnys training room. You sighed quietly, observing the spot in the small mirror, while noticing a very familiar green color appear in the reflection. Your beloved swordsman.

-He greeted you as usual and proceeded to climb up while watching you. He wondered what you were doing. Mirror, ointment tube...you pointing the mirror at your neck and not your face...huh.

-Zoro put two and two together. You tried to get rid of the hickey. Right, and why did that bother him somehow? He just stood there for a while, staring at you in silence, contemplating what to say. "Did Nami say something again?" With that, he stepped closer and slightly bend down to have a look.

-"No but she will." You mumbled, while Zoro scratched the back of his head. He liked giving you visible hickeys actually, he liked marking you as his especially in front of the stupid cook. He liked looking at it and getting reminded of the nice time the two of you had. It bothered him that you wanted to get rid of it...

-"Fuck it. Who cares? Just because she's jealous and doesn't get dicked down." He shrugged and sat down next to you, which made you laugh. It gave you some confidence back, wondering why you actually wanted to hide it in the first place, yet you were the one getting the comments, not Zoro.

-"You wear one for a day, lets see how that plays out." You said with a grin and snapped the mirror shut, to which Zoro just smirked back. "Try me." [Click here for more Zoro content!]

-There were times, where Law could be either rough or gentle, whatever it was, it always ends passionate. Especially towards the end, when you both reach your climax and he can't help himself but bury his face into the crook of your neck while he finishes off.

-As much as you liked looking at the bruised in the mirror, you didn't need others to see it, neither the teasing of your fellow crew mates. It was pretty ironic that Law didn't enjoy those comments either, yet he left a god damn hickey on your neck. For a private person he was doing a pretty bad job.

-You were standing in your shared bathroom, trying to remove the mark somehow. Yesterday it didn't look too bad, but now the color darkened slowly, showing off the damaged blood vessels underneath.

-You didn't notice Law stopping in the door frame of the bathroom and watching you with curious eyes. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned in, tilting his head. The bruise looked bad, and he was surprised he had left a hickey. He didn't really notice yesterday.

-"Stop that, you're making it worse." His sudden comment made you jump, while Law sighed and stepped in closer. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head to look at the bruised skin better, before clicking his tongue. "Might take a week before that's gone ..."

-"A week?!" You were quite annoyed by his nonchalant answer. Firstly, he was responsible for this, and secondly, of course he would react this way. Law wasn't the one who had a god damn hickey on his very visible neck. You gave him a light slap on his chest, lecturing him on being careful next time or leaving it somewhere others wouldn't see. By the cheeky grin slowly forming on his face you knew he would give you a bold answer.

-Yet he held his promise, especially after your threat of giving him hickeys back next time if he wasn't more careful. It was only fair, since he wasn't a big fan of marks on himself, while he couldn't get enough of you having them. Law simply enjoyed seeing who you belonged to and the aftermath of your night. He wouldn't stop the marks, just hide them for only him to see.

[Click here for more Law content!]

[sleekervae]

New York Romantic .1

Masterlist

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: a young actor moves across the hall from an aspiring ballerina. (college au kinda)

word count: 1562

a/n: i've had this idea knocking around in my brain for a few days and finally got to penning it down -- enjoy!

August 2016

The sun stretched its golden rays across the morning sky in New York City, the last embrace of summer's fading heat lingered in the air. The city bustled under a whispering breeze that carried the promise of change, as tree leaves, once adorned in vibrant green, began their slow transformation into a canvas of crimson and gold. Amidst the streets, a serene anticipation filled the air, capturing the essence of a city transitioning as the summer activities came to a close and the kids were dreading the return to school.

The wheels on Tom's luggage clacked against the cracks and bumps in the concrete sidewalk, bleary and tired eyes scanning between his phone and the address placards on the various condos. He knew he should've taken a cab, but the bus was so much cheaper and Google indicated it was only a five minute walk to his new living quarters anyway.

He finally stopped in front of a brick building, the address placard worn and rusted from the elements but the numbers matched up with that on his itinerary. The other cue that gave it away was the variety of art pieces in windows and hung over bannisters and fire escapes. Tom lugged his bag up the three stone steps and ducked inside.

The lobby was pale, dingy and in dire need of a fresh coat of paint; not to mention the air held hints of mothballs and burnt microwaved popcorn. An older woman was sat behind a desk, reclined in her chair while glazed eyes were focused on her computer screen. Tom approached slowly, hoping his smile could cover the exhaustion hiding in his face.

"Hello,"

The woman's eyes were the last to focus when she turned her head, blinking over her glasses and a warm smile graced her face, "Oh, hello! You must be... erm..." she suddenly grabbed a clipboard and scanned the tiny text, "... Jacob Nielson?" she spoke in the classic Brooklyn accent with exaggerated vowels and nasally undertones.

"No," he shook his head politely, "My name's Tom. Blyth," he replied.

She scanned her list with her pen, gasping aloud when she found his name, "I see, now! Very nice to meet you, my name's Doris -- I'm the super here. You're my renter from London, right?"

"Yeah. Well -- Yorkshire specifically,"

"I didn't do so well in geography, honey. Have mercy," Doris replied as she stood up, heading for the wall of cubbies behind her, "So tell me, which insane asylum are you checking into?"

" -- Excuse me?"

"What school are you attending?" she asked again, her fingers flourishing across the cubbies.

Tom nodded, "I'm starting at Julliard next week. I'm an actor," he replied.

Doris scoffed, "Yeah? You and everybody's dog, honey," she pulled a key from a specific slot and returned to the desk, "But you got a nice face, maybe you'll luck out,"

Tom wasn't sure whether or not he should've taken that as a compliment, so he simply smiled back and accepted the key, "Um, thank you,"

"You're on floor three, room 14. Your roommate should already be moved in, he can give you a tour of the place," she explained, "If you need anything, leaky faucets fixed and whatnot just come down and see me,"

"Thank you, Doris," he took his bag and started for the elevator on the right of the room, but Doris called out to him again.

"Hold on, handsome! Elevator's broke! Hasn't worked since Giuliani was mayor," she pointed to the left, "Stairs are over there,"

Tom huffed under his breath; he was tired and the last thing he wanted was to lug his suitcase up three flights of stairs. Nevertheless, he gave Doris one more polite grin as he started for the staircase.

The sun cast stark patterns across the stairs, the skewed silhouettes of the window panes interrupted by Tom's own shadow as he made his trek up. He hadn't at first registered the thundering of footsteps above him until a group of kids rushed passed him.

"C'mon! We're gonna miss the bus!" The stairwell was relatively narrow, arms and bodies knocking into Tom until he nearly slipped and his grip loosened on his suitcase. The suitcase went tumbling down the stairs, smacking hard against the opposing wall and the latches burst open. His belongings spilled everywhere.

Tom grumbled to himself, trekking down the stairs again to clean up the mess. One of the kids however hung back, trailing behind her group but she'd witnessed Tom's misfortune. She double backed up the stairs, staring in astonishment at the clothes and knick knacks, then at him.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

Tom was crouched over the ground when he looked up, coming face-to-face with the concerned expression of a young brunette. She was lean and petite, dressed down in denim shorts and black tank top. Her converse had two different coloured laces, one red and one yellow. He found that peculiar.

"I'm alright," Tom assured her, "If this is the worst thing that happens to me today, then it's not such a bad day, right?" he tried to laugh it off.

The girl simpered, "Sure," nevertheless she crouched down to help him. One of her friends called out from below.

"Noelle! C'mon! We're gonna miss the bus!" she shouted.

The girl -- Noelle -- shouted back, "Go ahead, Bianca! I'll catch up with you guys!"

"But the movie starts in an hour! It's take forty five minutes from here, man!"

"It's twenty minutes of previews, anyways!" she turned back to Tom, her cheeks tinting bashfully, "Sorry about that,"

"Don't worry. You should go with your friends, I'll be fine," he replied.

Noelle scoffed, "Can I trust you with a secret?"

"Sure,"

"I hate horror movies,"

Tom smiled, "And lemme' guess: they're going to see a horror movie?"

"Don't Breathe. Some kids break into a blind guy's house and he ends up killing them all and quite frankly -- I can go my whole life without more nightmares," she replied, a coy smile playing at her lips.

"Don't half blame you. I'm not the biggest fan, myself," he said, "Do you live here?"

"Yep. That nutcase shouting at me was my roommate," she replied, "Sorry, I didn't get your name,"

"Tom,"

"Very nice to meet you. I wish it was under better circumstances," she chuckled back.

"Don't worry about it -- Noelle," he grinned.

She helped him clean up and pack his things, leading him back upstairs to his room. He assured her he could manage but Noelle insisted, saying it was the least she could do for his trouble.

"Room 14?" she cocked a brow when he told her, the corners of her lips pulling back to bare her clenched teeth.

"Yeah. What's wrong?" Tom asked apprehensively, "I don't have a serial killer for a roommate, right?"

Noelle shook her head, "No, no, you get Sunny. And he's just like his name -- absolute sunshine human being,"

"... I sense there's a 'but' coming," he trailed.

"He's a scholarship violinist, he's brilliant. And he's so brilliant because he practices at all hours of the night," she explained, "... All hours. You might wanna invest in some noise cancelling ear plugs,"

Tom nodded, relieved that at least his new roomie didn't sound like a dickhead, "Thanks for the advice,"

They stopped in front of the door, a worn brass 14 glinting subtly in the light. Tom fished out the key from his pocket, "I guess this is me,"

"Oh, damn," Noelle huffed, glancing at the door across from them, "You get the insane neighbours,"

His eyes flitted between her and the door, "... Whatcha' mean by that?"

Noelle pulled a key from her pocket, "Well, they're dancers for one. So they're always playing music, talking shit, burning their instant noodles because they're half-daft," with that she shoved the key into the lock and twisted, and sure enough the door opened.

Tom glanced at her, sheer amusement crossing over his face. He simpered under his breath, "You're my half-daft dancer neighbour who burns her instant noodles?"

"Unfortunately for you," she confirmed, half smirking.

"And how does one burn their instant noodles?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it," she closed and locked the door again, "But I'll let you get settled in. If you need anything at all, you can just pop over,"

"Thank you, Noelle," he smiled, "And thanks again for --" he stopped suddenly when he heard a faint violin melody from the other side of his door. It was a beautiful melody nonetheless, and it had him intrigued, "I suppose that's my roommate?"

Noelle nodded back, "Yep. I promise you, he's a sweetheart," she started walking backwards towards the stairwell, "I'm sorry again about earlier,"

"Don't give it a second thought. Have fun at your movie," he replied.

She giggled sardonically, "Oh trust me, I'll have a blast. I'll see you around, Tom,"

Tom gave her a small wave, watching her until she disappeared around the corner, could hear her shoes squeaking as she trotted down the stairs. He couldn't deny he found her quite a looker, a small part of him giddy with excitement at the prospect of getting to know his new neighbour. The violin melody continued to play on the other side of the door, and taking a deep breath for confidence, he pushed the key into the lock and opened the door...