#and I can’t say enough good things about the experience. From start to finish

[doctordrain]

Doctor Drain saved us from so many future plumbing headaches.

We recently had an outside cleanout installed by Doctor Drain at our home in Buffalo Grove, and I can’t say enough good things about the experience. From start to finish, their team was professional, knowledgeable, and efficient. They explained everything in detail, from how the cleanout works to the long-term benefits it would provide.

Before the installation, we dealt with a couple of backups caused by tree roots in our sewer line. Each time, the process of clearing the blockage from inside the house was messy and stressful. With the new outside cleanout, we now have a much easier way to access the sewer line without risking water damage or disruption inside our home.

The best part? Knowing that future maintenance will be faster, more affordable, and far less invasive. Doctor Drain even gave us tips on how to keep our sewer line clear and avoid major issues down the road. We already feel so much more peace of mind knowing our plumbing system is better protected.

If you live in Buffalo Grove or the surrounding areas and are tired of dealing with sewer issues, I highly recommend Doctor Drain. They truly care about their customers and provide top-notch service!

— Sarah J., Buffalo Grove, IL

☎ 224-355-8929

www.1doctordrain.com

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

“Come on, doll,” Barnes takes your hand and leads you across the room. You follow as you will for the rest of your life; obediently. 

His grip is like a vice as he guides you through the hall and down the stairs. Silence meets you at the bottom as your sisters no doubt hear the descent. Yet he doesn’t let you go nor make a move to leave. Instead, he brings you into the front room. 

He squeezes your hand, pressing the large ring into your finger, and releases you. He steps forward as Kitty turns away from the window and Adrienne stands from the sofa. He commands any room he enters and you don’t think you’ll ever be used to that. 

“Sisters,” he declares brightly, “that is what I will call you from now on.” 

He goes first to Kitty and places a kiss on her cheek, then does the same to Adrienne. Each watch him in confusion. You stare blankly. 

“And you can call me brother and ask for anything and everything you need,” he says. 

“Sir,” Kitty moves towards your younger sister. 

“I ask discretion for the time being as I tie up a few loose ends,” Barnes explains. “And we get you all settled where you need to be.” 

Your sisters blink at you then each other. You can’t say it out loud. That makes it real. 

Barnes turns on his heel, “speaking of loose ends, I should go.” 

He comes towards you and takes your hand again. He raises it, certain to show off the glaring diamond, and kisses it. The gesture makes your blood run cold. It is a statement. It isn’t the same as when you kiss his ring, it isn’t deference, no it is a show of ownership. 

“Have a good night,” you say at last. 

He pulls back and lowers your hand. He grins, “it’s already spectacular, doll.” 

He lets you go and steps past you. You stand, stuck in place, as he leaves. The door opens and closes, the hinges jarring you into motion. You go to lock it behind him and Kitty calls your name. 

“What’s going on?” She appears in the doorway. 

You take a breath before you face her. You shrug. Adrienne scrambles around her and snatches your hand. 

“Oh my god, it’s huge.” 

“Stop,” you try to tug your hand back. 

“You’re marrying him?” Kitty’s voice deflates by the last syllable. “Why?” 

You look between them. You can tell one sliver of the truth. “To keep us safe.” 

“Us? We’ll be fine. Barnes says we get an inheritance, we get houses, money--” 

“And then what? It’s not enough to last forever,” you argue. “Even if we can find work, we’ll never make enough to keep that. How long did you work at the yogurt shop before daddy threatened to burn it down? And I have about a week’s experience down at the diner.” 

“We can start now--” 

“We can start now and never reach the finish line,” you insist. “Kitty, you know who daddy was. You sat there and watched what they did to that man today. This isn’t a life you walk away from, even if he’s dead.” 

Adrienne sniffles. She’s on the edge of tears again. 

“So, you do it over? Marry another one? Go through it again?” Kitty challenges. 

“He can make sure that neither of you have to--” 

“We don’t need you to be our martyr,” Kitty argues. 

“I’m not--” you seal your lips and sigh. You wish you could tell her. You wish you could say I shot that fuck and he deserved it because you know she would have loved to do the same thing. Yet, saying it out loud means admitting that you’re all trapped for that moment of vengeance. “Kitty, how much choice do you think he gave me?” 

She stares at you. She knows exactly how it works. There is no asking with these men. 

“We could all go. Disappear.” 

“And they wouldn’t find us? How far could we get, really?” 

“Not far,” Adrienne pipes in. “Kitty, would you rather daddy still be here?” 

Your older sister is silent as her jaw squares. 

“I could marry instead. Maybe not Barnes but someone else. It shouldn’t be you. I’m the oldest--” 

“It is me,” you say, “and it could be any one of us but this is how it is. It’s... not the worst.” 

“It’s not?” Kitty says. “That man stood and ordered another beaten to death. He didn’t flinch.” 

“I know,” you say. 

“No, you don’t know,” Kitty insists, “you can’t be sure that he isn’t like daddy.” 

She’s right. Barnes might have helped vanquish the monster but it can’t erase his own misdeeds. Yet, you asked for all of this. You went there in the middle of the night and sold your soul. You could excuse yourself with naivete, but you deserve more to be branded by it. 

“If it keeps you two from men like daddy--” 

“Stop,” Kitty grabs you by the shoulders. “None of us deserve it.” 

“You stop,” you wrap your fingers calmly around her forearms and peel her hold off of you. “Should I go hand that man his ring back or do you want do it for me?” 

She untangles her wrists from your grasp and recoils. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes up against the threat of tears. She stamps her foot in frustration. 

“You tell me,” she points her finger at you. You’re almost stunned by the fire in her voice and face. Kitty is the sweet one, she’s gentle, but she has your mother’s quiet strength. “You tell me if he ever puts a bruise on you. You fucking tell me.” 

“Kitty,” you murmur. 

Adrienne covers her mouth and watches, swept up in the fraught emotion of it all. 

“No, because I spent a lifetime watching you two cry over that beast we called a father,” she snarls. “I will not waste the rest of my life doing the same. I thought—I thought we were free. I wanted us to be free.” She curls her lip and exhales heavily. “So, you will not lie to me again. And I will know. I will see right through him so you don’t even try to cover it up. One bruise...” she wags her finger then throw up both her hands with a frustrated growl. “I sound like him.” She turns and drags her feet to the stairs. She sits on one and hangs her head. “I sound like daddy. I’m just so... tired.” 

You look at Adrienne and reach for her. She gives you her hand. You bring her over to Kitty and touch your elder sister’s shoulder. She looks up through sparkling eyes. 

“You will know. We will all know. We are sisters and this doesn’t change that,” you say. “We stick together, no matter what.” 

“Oh, we will,” Kitty insists, “I will be at your damn house every day and I will look at that man and I will see all the cracks. Trust me you. He will not take you from us.” 

“Kitty, Ade,” you look from one to the other, “no one can take us from each other. If daddy did one thing, it was making sure of that.” 

[moonstruckme]

this is such a specific request and i’m back and forth about making it because it feels silly but i’m so in love with the way you write james i had to take a chance. i had a bad experience going down on a guy once and i just can’t enjoy it since, but guys often aren’t very understanding about it. i was wondering if you’d write something with james and reader where she doesn’t enjoy it (and it doesn’t have to be for the reason i stated, any reason is fine!), and he’s being such a sweetheart about it. no worries if this request is too much!

Thank you for requesting <3

cw: smut mdni

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 634 words

When James’ head disappears beneath the covers for a second time, your guilt catches up with you. 

You lift up the sheets. You can’t lie to yourself, it’s an alluring sight—James looking up from where he’d been kissing under your navel, long lashes fluttering in happy surprise and one big hand already wrapped securely around your thigh. His lips stay half an inch from your skin.

You decide to drop the sheets rather than tire your arms holding them up. They bubble you in there with him, the morning light filtering through and casting you both half in shadow. 

“Hey,” you say awkwardly.

James’ smile splits his face. “Hi, there.” He finishes what he started, kissing the skin below your navel tenderly. “Nice of you to join me down here.” 

“Thought I should see what you seemed so interested in,” you joke. 

He squeezes your thigh roughly. “It’s quite the view, as you can see.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh half-heartedly. “Sure.” 

Something on your face must give you away. James’ hand smooths out on your thigh. He presses a kiss to the inside, gentle but enough to make your nerves jump. “Something wrong?”

“I don’t think you should do this,” you blurt. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, and, um, we should probably go back to doing other things.” 

James makes no move other than to distance his lips from your leg. “Okay,” he says simply. “If you don’t feel like it anymore, that’s fine. Do you not want me to touch you?” 

“No, it’s—it’s not you.” You give him a little smile, aiming for reassuring. “You’re fine. I just don’t think we should do oral.” 

He blinks. “You don’t think we should or you don’t want to?” 

“I don’t think we should.” Because trust me, I want to. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let you do it the first time. I can’t—or not can’t, I just don’t want to reciprocate.” The confession tumbles out of you like yarn unspooled. “Sorry. I really don’t like blowjobs.” 

“Oh.” It appears to take James a few seconds to process this. When he does, his expression isn’t what you anticipated. He smiles crookedly, eyebrows scrunching like he’s caught between bemusement and humor. “Sweetheart, you could have just said that. That’s alright.” 

You give him a weak smile. “Thanks for being cool about it. I know I should’ve told you earlier, it just…I got caught up, and it felt really good.” You feel your face heating and drop your gaze. “Anyway, it was selfish. Sorry to lead you on.” 

“What? Angel.” James gives your thigh a little shake. “I mean I don’t mind. Really, I’ll eat you out either way. It’s not just so you’ll give me something in return.” 

Now it’s your turn to blink. “What do you mean?” 

He gives you a half-lidded look, both knowing at teasing. “I mean that I like doing this. And even if I didn’t, you hardly forced me. You didn’t promise me anything. You’re allowed to do—or not do—whatever you like.” 

“You’re serious?” You glean from James’ expression that you must look as shocked as you feel. “You really don’t care? You’d tell me if you did, right?” 

He grins, kissing again the sensitive skin inside your thigh. “Yeah, honey. I promise I’d tell you.”

“Oh. Thanks.” 

He laughs. “No problem. So do you mind if I keep going now? If you want me to stop, that’s okay too.” 

“Um.” You rub your lips together, looking down at him. James waits patiently, but his palm starts moving up and down your thigh, a soothing touch that leaves a trail of heat in its wake. “Sure. If you don’t mind.” 

He holds eye contact with you as he lowers his head. His breath is hot on your cunt. “Not at all.”

[achilles-rage]

NSFW Alphabet

word count: 2.0k

A/N: hi besties<333 this is my first time writing so pls don’t absolutely tear me to shreds (just a little bit is acceptable though). i’m planning on making a SFW alphabet for buck soon as well but some of the letters had me drawing a blank lol. also, although there’s not really much mention of it, this is with a plus size reader in mind. as a plus size girly myself, it sucks to read x reader stories and knowing in the back of your mind that it wasn’t written with your body type in mind (although there’s nothing wrong with writers that do that of course). i just thought i would add to the plus size reader community because there are barely any buck fics and i believe in my heart that he loves plus size women. anyway, enjoy <3

warnings: smut (obviously lol), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ Only

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

When y’all finish he’ll wait a few minutes before pulling out, head buried in your neck as his breathing gets back to normal. He’ll kiss your neck and tell you how good you were for him, before finally getting up to clean you up. After that he wants to lay with you and talk, just enjoying each other’s company, maybe y’all will make some food if you feel like it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: Probably his arms. He’s worked hard to be as fit as he is and he enjoys using his arms to move you/lift you while you’re having sex. He takes pride in his appearance, he knows he’s hot, but it’s an added bonus that he can lift you up and do whatever he (or you) wants.

Yours: I am of the firm belief that Evan Buckley is a thigh man. He loves how they feel in his hands, he loves how they look when you straddle him, he can’t get enough. He loves to see them jiggle when you move, or when he playfully smacks them. He loves thick thighs and I will die on this hill

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This man has a BREEDING KINK OKAY!!! He loves to cum inside you, fucking deep into you and feeling his cum fill you up. He loves watching it slowly dripping out, so he can finger it back in. If that’s not your thing I think the next best place would be on your stomach, watching your face as he lets go, seeing the way he marks you up. He loves your little tummy, how it moves as he ruts into you, so he loves it when you let him cum all over it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I only call this a dirty secret because he would never tell anyone about this after the last time it happened and he got fired. He wants to fuck you in the fire engine SO BAD. He can’t help but think of the way you would look as he fucked into you quickly, trying not to get caught with your dress up around your waist. He knows it’s not gonna happen, he’d never hear the end of it from anyone in his life if it did, but god he wants to so bad.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Girl have we watched the same show?? This man FUCKS!!! We all know (and love) Buck 1.0, and we know he knows what to do. Buck 3.0 might mean him changing into, well, not a sex addict, but that doesn’t mean he forgot his training (🫡). I think he understands that every woman is different, and while he might not get it exactly right the first time, he’s a fast and eager learner, watching what exactly makes you squirm and moan the most for him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Canonically, Buck LOVES when you ride him, and I agree. He loves to watch you move yourself on him, able to grab at your thighs, and your hips, and your chest. He also loves to move you on him, squeezing your hips tightly as he sets the pace if you start getting tired or if he just feels like it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I mean, he’s Buck, he’s truly a golden retriever of a man and cannot stay serious for long. I think he’s a bit of a mix, he can be serious in the moment, but at the end of the day, he’s still Buck, and Buck is silly goofy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it nicely trimmed, carpets match the drapes. In terms of his partner, he really doesn’t give a fuck. He’s seen it all and could not care less as long as he feels the way you wrap around him so perfectly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Buck 3.0 is a man of TASTE, but that being said, I think he only really pulls out the romance during special occasions. Most of the time this man wants to freak nasty, but sometimes when he’s tired, or just feels especially in cuddly/clingy, he’ll be more romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does it pretty often, of course not when he has the option to fuck you instead (and you’re willing, of course), but if you’re not with him and he needs a quick release, he getting right to it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding: I will scream this till the day that I die, this man wants a family more than anything. Whenever he’s inside of you, he can’t help but think about how pretty you’d look with your belly all round with his babies.

Praise: Look at this pathetic little guy, he needs to be praised, he thrives on it. He loves to hear how good he feels, how good he’s making you feel. This goes both ways. He’s in your ear immediately telling you how good you feel, how well you’re taking him, how pretty you look.

Spanking: HEAR ME OUT!! While I’m not sure he would actually bend you over his knee (but honestly the more I think about it he might) he would LOVE to give your ass a nice little swat as you’re riding him. He loves the sound it makes, and the sound you make because you’re not expecting it. I don’t think he’d ever do it hard enough to hurt too much, but I think enough to make your ass a little red would definitely be something he could get behind (lol).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He doesn’t have a ring cutter in the kitchen for nothing<3

I think he likes to have sex at home the most, on the bed, on the couch, on the kitchen counter. You name it, he wants to fuck you there. His favourite is the counter because he loves seeing you being so domestic in the kitchen. Making dinner, cleaning up, whatever, he wants you right then and there and cannot wait. He’ll come up behind you, wrapping his arms around you as he kisses your neck before slowly turning you around to face him and lift you onto the counter to have his way with you.

While he’s moved on from having sex in public places that could (will) get him fired, he’s still into it, but in less obvious places. If y’all are in his car and you’re looking a little too good in his passenger seat, he loves an empty parking lot quickie. Front seat, back seat, whatever you want, he’d be pulling you onto him as soon as he puts the jeep in park.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Girl ANYTHING gets him going, it would take one look, one touch, one word and this man would be ready to go. I think what really gets him going though is seeing you with kids or getting along so well with the 118. This man truly just wants a silly little family and someone that can get along with the 118fam, so seeing you like that has him making up a stupid excuse to leave a little early so he can take you home and have his hands all over you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Like I said before, I don’t think he would do anything to hurt you too much, other than the occasional light spanking or biting. He would also not be into any kind of age play or pet play, he’s pro kink but it’s just not for him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man is a giver and I stand by this. Dear god he loves nothing more than having you spread open for him, hands tangled in his hair as he makes himself at home between your thighs. He loves having his hands gripping your thick thighs, feeling them on either side of his head. When you start to get squirmy from the overstimulation he’ll place a large hand over your lower stomach, holding you still as he pushes you over the edge again.

With all that said, he will definitely not say no to getting head. He loves seeing you look up at him while you’re on your knees, trying to take all of him. He’ll keep a hand in your hair, pulling it softly every now and then, and he can’t help but moan and whine as he gets closer and closer, eventually cumming down your throat as he squeezes his eyes shut.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the day, but most of the time he likes it rough and fast. He loves a good quickie, meaning it kinda has to be more fast paced and rough, and he’s pretty easy to get riled up, so when you drop any sort of hint, he’s on you immediately and ready. On other days where he’s feeling extra clingy and lovey, he’ll be more of a slow and sensual guy, but I think for the most part he loves to fuck you deep and rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Like I said, he loves a good quickie. A lot of the time he craves a quickie before work, needing to feel you before his long shift. I think they happen pretty often, but he’d much rather take his time with you, using his fingers and mouth before he fucks you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As long as there’s clear communication he’s down to try pretty much anything, he’ll do anything to make you happy (within reason). I think he’s also a risk taker (also within reason, he has to think about not getting fired again, of course). Buck 1.0 is still inside him somewhere when it comes to sex so he definitely loves a little risk, but he’s grown enough to know where the line is.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

While he would love to go as many rounds as possible, I think it would realistically be 2-3, lasting about 10-15 minutes each round. I think he would be the type to like having some time between rounds, tension still high as you talk and lay around before he's back on you again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Once again, he doesn’t have a ring cutter in his kitchen for nothing<3

He likes them, he definitely owns a few toys of his own. Vibrators, cock rings, some handcuffs or restraints, he’s very open to anything that increases y’alls pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He does it sometimes not really meaning to, like he does something and you’re like….dear god…and maybe he doesn’t notice the first time but the second time he does and WILL keep going until you snap. He loves the way you get all squirmy and whiny and desperate for him, knowing you want him as much as he wants you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

So vocal!!!! Literally that meme thats like “y’all afraid to make noise in the bedroom?? i be in my girls ear like…” He loves dirty talk (on both ends) and he can’t help but let out low moans when you’re clenching around him. He also loves hearing your breathless whimpers, making him feel like he’s doing a good job, and encouraging him to pull more sounds from your lips.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If he was in a relationship during the whole sperm donor thing, it would be the longest few weeks for both of y’all. I imagine the first time he has an appointment, you make sure you’re waiting for him in a cute little matching set, knowing how excited he was to finally be buried inside you again, hearing you whine as he fills you up. He’s so frustrated when his appointment doesn’t work out that he doesn’t let you know how it went, instead being unpleasantly surprised when he sees you sprawled out on his bed when you get home and unable to do anything about it. He wants nothing more than to rip your pretty little set off your body and run his hands up and down your soft curves, but he can’t, and it’s torture. You apologize (but he will hear none of it because it was a lovely surprise, just shitty circumstances), and instead you change into an oversized shirt and sweatpants to enjoy a completely normal (and not sexual at all) night on the couch.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

8 inches, thick, no complaints <3

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH!!! This man is thinking about sex 24/7, and if he could, his hands would be on you at all times.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Most of the time I think he stays up for a while, just hanging out and talking to you. But if he comes home after a long shift he’s fucking GONE in 5 minutes tops.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[sluttysturn]

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖𝖳𝖠𝖪𝖤 𝖨𝖳˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁

pairing ˖ ݁𖥔 dom!chris x virgin!reader

in which you are embarrassed about being a virgin, so your best friend, chris sturniolo, takes that problem away.

TW: smut, unprotected p n v (birth control), oral (received by reader), virginity loss, use of pet names

notes: (y/f/n = your friends name) (color of who’s speaking: y/f/n | y/n | chris | nick | matt)

credits: this story is inspired by @evie-sturns i read hers and wanted to make my own!! please check her out she has AMAZING work!!

a/n: first story!! lemme know what i can do to improve and PLEASE leave requests!! love you!!

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖

me and triplets have been best friends for over 10 years. but me and chris, we just clicked more.

we tell each other EVERYTHING. the only thing we don’t really talk about is our sex life. i don’t find that a bad thing because i am currently 21 years old and still a virgin.

i’ve always been insecure about it, but i just have never seemed to find a good enough guy.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

me, chris, nick, matt, and y/f/n were sitting in the triplets living room. madi was talking to me about some guy she fucked recently.

“and y/n you know how they make that weird sound when they finish?” y/f/n said ranting on and on.

i responded with a quick “mhm”

i hated talking about it. no one really knows i’m a virgin, but i’ve never talked about fucking a specific guy, so i’m sure they had there suspicions.

she was about to say something else when i got up and walked down the stairs to the front door slamming it behind me.

me and the triplets lived right next door so i walked over to my house.

“go check on her chris” nick says sternly and concerned.

chris got off the couch and walked out the door a little after putting his shoes on and grabbing his phone.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

chris arrived at my house that i shared with y/f/n. he pulled out the key i gave him along with matt and nick.

he unlocked the door and heard small sobs coming from my room. he immediately ran to my door and knocked lightly.

“y/n.. can i come in?”

“yeah..”

chris opened the door and walked in. he expression drop immediately when he sees my tear stained face.

“oh y/n.. what’s wrong sweetheart.”

“i can’t tell you.. you’re gonna laugh at me.”

“i would never.. talk to me”

i hesitated before saying it.

“i’m a virgin.” i blurted out.

chris furrowed his brows in confusion. he looked… shocked.

“wha- you’re a- how?!”

“what do you mean how i’ve never fucked anyone!”

“i know what virgin means but like- you’re gorgeous, how does anyone want to fuck.. you?”

“i mean- i’ve been asked but, i’m just- scared.”

“of what?” chris asked genuinely confused.

“i’m just scared ill suck at it, im scared it’ll hurt, and im scared whoever i actually fuck won’t go easy on me..”

he looked at me with a sorry expression. he didn’t know what to say to that but then he said something that really caught me off guard.

“i can fuck you..?” he says quietly, “just to teach you and so you will have experience.. you know?”

i was taken aback by his words. it’s not that i didn’t want to fuck him, but i didn’t want it to make everything awkward for us.

“chris.. i don’t know. what it make things- awkward.”

“don’t worry about that. think of it as a learning experience.”

i laughed lightly at his words.

“what if i suck at it?”

“you’ll be fine.. don’t worry. just let me make you feel good..”

he leans in but before kissing me he says something.

“do i have your full consent..?”

(never do ANYTHING with ANYONE unless you and they both have FULL consent!)

“mhm..”

he finally closed the gap between us. it started off gentle, but quickly turned into an aggressive kiss. our lips moved in perfect harmony and rhythm. it was like our lips were made for each other.

he pulls my shirt over my head and slides him hand up my back to unclasp my bra.

he looks down at my tits and his mouth falls open.

“fuck, y/n. you’re gorgeous.”

he kisses me again and i smile into the kiss causing him to do the same.

he pulls his shirt off and i look down smirking.

“eyes up here, gorgeous.”

i look up at him with the same smirk on my face. he pulls away from the kiss and starts kissing my neck. i let out a soft moan as he reaches my sweet spot.

he eventually wraps his lips around my right nipple and sucks on it lightly, causing me to moan with pleasure.

with him mouth still around my nipple, he pulls off my shorts. i lift my hips up to make it easier on him.

he moves his mouth off my right nipple and moves onto the left one. i gasp at his sudden movement.

he takes off my panties and moves his month off of me.

“alright i’m gonna stretch you out a little so it won’t be as hard to take me” he says smirking

“you’re so cocky, you know that?”

“i’m just spitting facts..”

he lays me down against my bed and spreads my legs.

“once again.. you’re gorgeous.”

he kissing both of my folds causing me to shutter at his contact.

“you ready?”

“mhm..”

he puts two fingers in my pussy and start doing a ‘come here’ movement.

i moan pretty loudly at this.

“oh fuck.. c-chris..”

chris loved hearing me moan and before he knew it, he was hard. like really hard.

after about 45 seconds of his fingers hitting me in my sweet spot, i can feel a knot forming in lower stomach.

“shit ch-chris.. im gonna c-cum.”

i was a moaning mess. he pulled his fingers out.

“save it for me baby.”

baby. i felt butterflies fly around my stomach.

chris took of his boxers and i could see the bulge in his boxers. i could already tell he was big. he then took of his boxer and his member bounced out. like i said, i knew he was big, but i didn’t know he was that big.

“holy shit chris. that’s not gonna fit in me.”

“you’re really boosting my ego, y/n.”

“shut up.”

he aligns his body with mine.

(we’re in missionary!)

“im gonna go slow, ok..?”

“mhm..”

he spits on his hand and slowly start pumping his hand up and down. soon after he pushes his tip in.

a small whimper escapes his mouth along with mine.

“you good..?”

“y-yeah..”

“ok im gonna keep going, ok? let me know if it hurt or if you need a break.”

i nod my head as he’s pushes more of himself in me. a soft moan escapes my lips.

soon after he’s fully in. he lets me adjust to his size.

“im gonna start ok?”

“mhm..”

he starts pumping in and out slowly causing me to moan pretty loud. he is also moaning too.

“fuck, y/n. you’re so tight..”

he starts pumping faster.

“f-fuck ch-chris.. i’m- not gonna l-last long..”

i say shutting my eyes tight and digging my nails into his shoulder blades.

i feel the familiar knot starting to form. i knew i wasn’t gonna last much longer.

chris could feel my walls close around him and he knew that i was gonna finish along with him.

“me too, baby. me to.”

i was moaning pretty loud at this point. i would be surprised if nick, matt, and y/f/n could hear us.

“you re-ready..?”

“ye-yeah”

and with that, with both finished together. i felt his hot liquid fill me up. our moans were a perfect harmony. i could feel his dick twitch inside of me.

“shit y/n..”

we were both panting and he laid on top of me, his dick still in me.

eventually he pulled out.

“so. how was it.”

“re-really good. thank you.”

“anytime”

he said kissing me one more time.

“let’s get you cleaned up.”

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ౨ৎ ˖ ݁

a/n: if you liked this, please follow me/ like/ reblog!! give me some requests!! love youuu!

[twstowo]

Oyo, um I read one of your fics and it was rlly good. I'm pretty sure it was one of the 'they end up another universe twst' fics. They're rlly juicy BTW

I was thinking like...what happened if otherverse bois met normalverse yuu and they actually start liking them? Sorta yandere-ish type stuff to the point where they don't wanna leave normalverse yuu? (Yes, I've been calling normal yuu 'normalverse' yuu bc it makes a bit of sense lmao)

Understandable if you're a bit uncomfy with this :)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

♡︎This is quite an interesting idea! I had though about it once but since you asked now I'm really going to write it! Also I'm not the best with yandere themes so I hope this is good enough!

♡︎Includes: OB! Characters

♡︎Warning: Malleus's part made me kinda sad, IM SO SORRY MALLEUS LOVERS. Also all of them need therapy.

[AU Masterlist]

NV - Normalverse (Thank you for the idea Anon!)

First things first, in general, I believe that they would understand that you aren’t the same person from their Universe, however, this wouldn’t excuse the fact that every time they see your face they are thrown back to your relationship back in their world, which to say the least is not the best.

⋆⋅☆Riddle

There would be no doubt that he would dislike you intensely. Moreover, the fact that this Riddle would be even worse than the pre-overblot Riddle in the NV would put you in a difficult position.

The first time he spots you, he would be blinded by rage and probably try to behead you. Fortunately, Trey and Cater quickly save you, taking you as far away as possible from Tyrant Riddle.

He will do anything to find you, and he will have no tolerance for your actions. At the slightest inconvenience you cause, he will be right behind you, ready to tell you how much of an annoyance you are.

But you catch on to his game pretty quickly, so you counter him by being the very definition of perfection. You make sure not to break a single rule and set an example for everyone around you, and by the Sevens, that only makes him even angrier.

But is he really angry? He can’t deny that he feels slightly impressed. Among everyone else at this strange college, you are the only one who comes close to reaching the level of perfection he demands.

Slowly, he finds himself growing fonder of you. He starts thinking about bringing you back with him once he finds a way to return to his universe. You’d fit perfectly in the castle with him, and he’s certain his mother would have approved of you.

⋆⋅☆Leona

When it comes to Leona, he is more annoyed with the NV version of you than anything else. After all, you were always pestering him about being lazy and irresponsible. He had been plotting to have you exiled once he took the throne by killing his brother.

So, the first time he spots you, he's ready to turn around and leave, not wanting to hear your nagging. But that doesn’t happen. You speak to him as if he were a normal person, with no harsh words, and even smile at him when you finish talking.

Is he seeing things? Why are you so different in this universe? And why is he enjoying this new kind of attention so much?

Yet, he remains rude, constantly sending glares your way. He firmly believes you're trying to trick him into something malicious.

Still, you bring him lunch and talk about your day. You are strangely kind, something he never thought he would experience, especially from you. You are the first person ever to treat him like this.

Slowly, something starts to shift inside him. Your attention becomes something he craves, and he starts becoming obsessed, to the point where he checks if you give the same treatment to others.

And if you do, he makes sure they are out of the picture the next time you look for them. He will ensure that you have only him to turn to, to talk about your day, and to give your full attention.

⋆⋅☆Azul

OH NO! He’s had enough of your antics ruining his business! Azul puts up a sign with your face and a red cross over it in front of the Monster Lounge. YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED IN!

Floyd and Jade find this absolutely hilarious and watch as you stroll into the Monster Lounge without a care in the world. (You’re literally that meme: "This sign won’t stop me, because I can’t read.") They don’t even try to stop you, they’re far too entertained by the thought of seeing how this new Azul will react to the chaos.

Let’s just say that Azul quickly learns the hard way that you aren’t here to ruin his business. Instead, you seem determined to ruin his reputation by being overly affectionate and making him squirm with your sweet words in front of all his clients, no less.

He tries to distance himself, avoiding your gaze and setting boundaries, but you keep coming back. In that, you remind him of the version of you from his own universe.

And for some reason, he finds that persistence very attractive. He can’t deny that, before you decided to ruin his business, he used to have a slight crush on you back then.

But now, you aren’t trying to ruin his business. Quite the contrary, you’re a magnet for attention, constantly drawing more customers to the Mostro Lounge.

Slowly, Azul starts losing himself in this fantasy: you and him, together, expanding his business. But at a certain point, he realizes he’s thinking more about you than the money the two of you could make.

He becomes determined to keep you by his side, even if his business suffers because of it. If all it takes to have you is tarnishing a bit of his reputation, then he’s willing to do it.

⋆⋅☆Jamil

By the Seven, he was already annoyed that Kalim was here, but you too? This was about to be the worst day of his life, two incredibly annoying people threatening to ruin his plans.

He keeps his distance, but when you spot him, he’s about to tell you to go find someone else to bother. Then, you say something completely unexpected: you’re actually annoyed by Kalim’s antics.

You? Annoyed? At Kalim?

He’s taken aback. In his universe, you and Kalim were inseparable friends, always together. But the you from this place is actually bothered by him? He doesn’t even need to know why you’re annoyed. Just the fact that someone finally agrees with him about Kalim makes him incredibly happy.

He enjoys it when you come to him with your frustrations. Whether you’re irritated by Kalim’s constant gifts or his endless parties in your honor, because you feel overwhelmed, Jamil is always there to listen. He savors your complaints, and he’s quick to add his own criticisms about Kalim, which only deepens your dislike for him.

As time goes on, you start finding comfort in Jamil’s presence. His understanding and validation make him seem like a refuge from the chaos that Kalim brings. You begin to rely on him more, and Jamil can’t help but enjoy how your dislike for Kalim boosts his own ego.

Jamil starts subtly shaping your view of Kalim. By reinforcing your negative feelings and positioning himself as your only true ally, he ensures that you depend on him more. He carefully creates situations where he appears better compared to Kalim, making himself seem like the perfect match for you.

Jamil feeds off your growing dislike for Kalim. Your negative feelings towards Kalim seem to boost his ego, and he finds himself loving your voice even more.

You deserve someone who truly understands you, and Jamil believes he’s that person. He’s confident that he’d be the perfect match for you.

⋆⋅☆Vil

There you are, Neige’s number one fan. He doesn’t even look in your direction, you aren’t worth it. Shouldn’t you be with him, guarding him like the lapdog you are?

Vil has to admit that at least you seem more elegant here. You look more relaxed and gentle, but maybe you were always like that back then. Perhaps he was just too focused on Neige to notice you.

Or maybe this version of you from this universe is simply sweeter and kinder. Perhaps here, you don’t make Neige your whole identity and actually treat Vil like a person rather than just competition for Neige.

Vil is intrigued, he finds you interesting, even. There’s a charm to you that brings him comfort. When he learns that you’re not that close to Neige here, he finds himself feeling pleased. And when you tell him that you find him “oh so much more beautiful,” he realizes that you might not be so bad after all.

Then he becomes attentive to your habits, your likes and dislikes, he memorizes every time you express any small detail about yourself only to use these as a way to create more opportunities to be closer to you. He brings up things you’ve mentioned in passing, showing how attentive he is to your likes and dislikes. His compliments become more personal, always tied to something he knows you value.

He loves especially when you talk so sweetly about him, or when he overhears you telling others how beautiful you think he is.

So whenever you mention Neige in a good way he becomes jealous, you should be exclusively devoted to him, he should be the only thing that crosses your mind and he was to make sure you only see him as your number one option.

He’s determined to make you see him as your everything, and he’ll stop at nothing to ensure that you’re his, completely and utterly.

⋆⋅☆Idia

(In here both Idia and Ortho from the AU get sent to the NV.)

Ah yes, the ruiner of fun, you.

Back in his world, he used to send his followers to pester you, hoping you'd leave him alone. But no matter what, you always managed to bounce back and ruin his mischievous plans. What was with you, always messing with the fun? If a person or two died, who would even care?

But this version of you seems so much more into the chaos. He watches as you join in Ace's dumb ideas or get excited when Ortho prepares to blast off half the school.

You actually seem like someone who would join in his schemes now, and he'd love to have some help.

Howver the idea of you laughing, scheming, or enjoying yourself with anyone else starts to eat away at him. He starts sabotaging your interactions with others, asking for Ortho’s help to keep Ace busy with other things, making sure you spend more time with him.

He starts sending Ortho on missions to monitor your every move, always keeping tabs on who you’re with and what you’re doing. If anyone tries to get too close to you, they mysteriously vanish from the scene, often without you even noticing.

Everything feels so perfect when the two of you are together, you don’t need anyone else just like he doesn’t need anyone else.

⋆⋅☆Malleus

Poor Malleus had been treated badly by his crush back in his universe. You never answered the letters he sent, and he had heard that all the little trinkets and flowers were returned because you didn’t want any of them.

So when this version of you from this strange new place treats him with such devotion, such kindness, and accepts his small gifts, even inviting him to spend time with you, he can hardly believe what’s happening.

This was essentially a dream come true for him. He wonders if it had been you he sent all those letters to, whether you would have written him back with the same excitement.

Why, then, hadn’t this lovely and perfect version of you been the one in his universe? Why was he the one left unloved in his world?

He wants to take you with him. Surely, you love him, you wouldn’t be angry if he took you back to his castle. The two of you could finally do all the things he had dreamed about while gazing lovingly at the flowers he once sent you.

After all, why else would you shower him with such kindness? Why else would you invite him to spend time with you? You must love him too.

[wyvernest]

would you be able to write something about chubby!reader having body issues and thinks she doesn’t deserve miguel because he’s so sculpted and beautiful, but miguel reminds her how perfect she is? (in whatever way you think is best)

i just love reading these types of fics and they really help boost my confidence 🥹

tysm! <3

hope you like it<3

aphrodite

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

warnings: fluff, established relationship, body dysmorphia

summary: you start feeling self conscious right before your date, and miguel isn't having any of it

translations are at the end

Miguel had finally made time to take you out. You are well aware of the fact that he is a busy man, and had decided against pressuring him to abandon his work overtime.

But tonight was for you. He had planned out the perfect date, from the restaurant, reservations, to the tiniest details; what day would be best in terms of weather, your job, and his duties. 

To say you were overwhelmed with excitement was an understatement. He had always been so caring and considerate, looking for ways to make you feel valued and appreciated even when time itself stood against his efforts. Finding unadulterated joy in asking you out like it was your first time getting closer to each other over and over again, the 'honeymoon phase' spark never once leaving your relationship, contrary to popular belief.

And so here you are, in your shared home, getting ready for yet another date with the most handsome man you've ever seen. 

He's already fully dressed, fixing himself in the mirror. His black suit sits oh-so perfectly on him, hugging the shape of his large back and shoulders, tight enough around his biceps, so that they still bulge through the material when he brings a hand up in his hair to tame some dark strands that had fallen out of place. It accentuates the line of his abdomen, having his large thighs finish off the whole look. 

He stands in front of the bedroom mirror, in his striking royal height, the man that ancient Greeks probably had as a muse when they sculpted the ideals of the male body. His dark, cocoa brown hair is brushed back, silky and soft. His perfectly contoured face is dimly lit by the low, warm bedroom lights, his features prominent: the bridge and line of his nose, squinted piercing eyes along with a downright intimidating set of brows His sharp jaw is held up high while he works with his tie, expert hands skillfully experimenting around an array of various knots, pondering upon which fits best.

He truly is quite the sight, you melt at the tableau before you, holding back a sigh seasoned with nothing but the very heights of being irrevocably enamoured.

His whole presence screams strength and mature dominance, with a hint of incontestable luxury.

Resuming your own outfit, your own body still only adorned in nothing but a pair of panties and a bra, you head to the closet for the one dress you have been imagining yourself in for the whole week since he offered you the invitation. You couldn’t be more excited to finally try it on and admire yourself with it, have people look your way while wearing it, with an arm hooked around the one and only Miguel O’Hara. 

Putting it on and adjusting its stretchy fabric over your curves, your smile starts to fade. This isn’t what it looked like the first time I tried it on, you mentally conclude, and the more you look at it, the more things you wish you hadn’t noticed. You pull at the material, the hem, the sides, the neckline, anything you can think of that maybe, just maybe, could fix it. Panic starts to drip into your nerves, what will you do now if it just won’t look good? Screw it and go out with it anyway, and then feel all eyes on you for the rest of the evening? What will people think when they see you, merely decent, next to him? And otherwise, what other option is there? To pick some other dress that can’t possibly be more appropriate for the occasion, since you had bought this one specifically for the place you’re going, and still not look the part?

Your breathing starts to quicken as you keep fumbling with the textile around your shape, attention half directed to the open wardrobe, scanning every shelf and hanger for a second option. 

Suddenly, the floor creaks, bringing the echo of incoming footsteps. And there he is, standing behind you, hands on your tense shoulders. You almost despise the image before you; his impeccable, calm and stoic image, next to you, discouraged and deeply insecure in evident comparison.

“What were you thinking about just now?” his words river down over the shell of your ear on a hot breath that has shivers shot down your spine.

“Nothing, I’m getting ready”, you cover it up in a sing-song voice, not wanting to dig deeper into letting him know that you don’t deem yourself pretty enough for him, let alone expect him to find you more attractive than you do yourself. Unfortunately, he’s too smart for your little diversion.

“Don’t lie to me.”, his tone serious, voice deep. His eyes rank up and down your body in the mirror, and you feel an acute need to just disappear. “Que guapa.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, and you feel rosy heat rise to your face.

Your mouth speaks before you think.

“Does it look good?”, he senses the hesitancy in your voice.

“Baby, you’d look like a goddess wearing a potato sack.” he speaks matter-of-factly, as if his statement equals water is wet, the honesty in his declaration evident with the speed with which the words left his mouth. You can’t help but let a giggle break through your disconcerted face, surprised with the association.

“What, like Marilyn Monroe?”

“No, mi alma, like you.” He wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you back into his embrace as you look at eachother in the reflection before you. His expression softens, visibly relaxed and happy to have you close to him. 

“These curves, every part of you, I know them as I know myself.” His palms slide over your hips, and all the way back up to your shoulders, effectively chasing away any hint of doubt and worry, cleansing you of anything that isn’t love.

“Eres la mujer de mis sueños.” He bends down, his lips reaching the crook of your neck. “No hay nadie como tú."

You let yourself fall back into his tempting embrace, knowing that he’s exploiting your weakness for him speaking Spanish so low and deep into the vulnerable skin of your pulse point, completely forgetting about the date and the dress. 

“And if you don’t like the dress, I’ll gladly rip it off.” He exhibits his talons as a warning, the curved edges of the claws grazing your bare shoulders intently. “If anything, the dress isn’t good enough to be worn by you.”

translations:

que guapa - how beautiful

mi alma - my soul

eres la mujer de mis sueños - you're the woman of my dreams

no hay nadie como tú - there is no one like you

a/n: again, if any native speakers see anything wrong with my Spanish please let me know🤍

[yunhohours]

Sleep Over?

✗ Pairing: date!renjun x fem!reader

✗ Word count: 3.7k

✗ Warnings: fluffy smut, renjun cannot stop kissing reader, 'baby' as a pet name, small bit of breast/nipple play, fingering (f. receiving), reader makes a decisive choice to have unprotected sex (do not recommend), creampie, these bitches are in love with each other oh my god

✗ A/N: this was inspired by a prompt request that appealed to me so much i had to make it a whole thing. the prompts requested will be in bold font. i tried to keep reader's prior romantic and sexual experience vague enough to suit everyone, considering the nature of the prompts.

It’s your sixth or seventh date with Renjun. You kind of stopped focusing on the number after the third because that’s all the books and movies seem to care about. Tonight, you decided to stay in and cook together for once. You usually go here or there, eating at new places or trying new activities together. It’s always a lot of fun… but tonight, you wanted to just be together.

And by be together, you don’t mean in bed together. At least, you don’t think so. It’s the six or seventh date and Renjun hasn’t even kissed you yet. At least, not really.

He’s kissed you on the cheek. He’s held your hand–always, actually. He’s hugged you and held you, but he has never kissed you on the lips. At first, you were worried that he didn’t want to–that he just didn’t like you all that much. 

But how can you believe that? He keeps asking you out on dates, keeps making it sound like seeing you again is the biggest joy in his life. He wants to see you as much as your schedules allow and when he’s with you, you have his full attention, his full heart. So you know it’s not that he doesn’t like you. You actually started to think it was sweet and, really, you still think that, but you’d really like him to kiss you. You want to get it out of the way so you can kiss him again and again–whenever you want.

You’re in Renjun’s kitchen, washing pasta sauce off your clean plates side by side. You’re both wearing brilliant smiles as you talk and giggle and threaten to splash each other with water. He did splash you–just a little bit–when you were cleaning the pots and the utensils, but after one adorable warning look from you, he retreated. Not that you’d have minded if he didn’t. You’re starting to think there’s nothing he could do that would make you look at him with anything but adoring eyes.

Renjun reaches to turn off the water and you reach for your keys on the counter. He frowns.

“Hey…” His voice is soft as he takes your hand, pulling you towards him gently. He releases your hand only to wrap his arm around you instead, holding you at your lower back, his eyes glittering as he looks into yours. “Sleep over? Please?” 

You feel a swarm of butterflies come to life in your stomach. You hadn’t expected this. You were just hoping for a kiss, but now he’s offering you…

Well, you don’t really know what he’s asking. You can infer, but based on your previous experiences together, you doubt it.

“Sleep over? Do you mean…?”

Before you can finish asking, Renjun answers.

“We can just sleep. I just don’t want you to go home yet.” He cups your face in his hand, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “I’m really happy when I’m with you.”

How many butterflies live in your stomach? You lean into his touch, blinking at him fondly like a woman in love. Maybe you are a woman in love. Your lips curl up slightly as you nod your head. You want to tell him you feel the same way. You want to tell him that you’d like to sleep next to him every single night. But you can’t manage all of that right now. Not when you feel so overwhelmed with emotion. “Okay.”

It’s a single word and not as much as he deserves, but the bright grin that takes up his face would have you believing otherwise. “Good,” he says, brushing his lips against your hair before placing a soft kiss to your forehead. His fingers ghost down your arm as he reaches for your hand once again. He guides you towards his bedroom as he speaks. “Let’s get you something you can wear to sleep.”

You almost think that he means you’ll be wearing his clothes, but that thought doesn’t have time to cement itself. When you pass through the door to his room, your eyes instantly spot something of yours folded neatly on his dresser. He walks you right to it, smiling sheepishly. He lets go of your hand to present the clothing item to you and you laugh. It’s your old, reliable, oversized t-shirt.

“I know I’ve been telling you since our second date that I would wash and give this back to you… and I know I have been telling you that I forgot it every time since.” He pauses, cocking his head slightly as a coy expression takes over his face. “I just wanted an excuse to see you again. If I needed one.”

You feel almost dizzy at his words. Is this what it feels like to be lovesick? Every time he opens his mouth, you feel love trying to break its way out of your body–trying to grow past the confines.

You wore this t-shirt when you went to the beach on your second date. You just needed something to cover your swimsuit until it was time to be in it. But when you and Renjun were playing on the beach–chasing each other after he teased you or you teased him–you ran into the water without thinking. You were just trying to escape his playful wrath. You weren’t thinking about the fact that you still had your shirt on–not that you would have cared about getting it wet in the first place. You laughed and looked down at your soaked through t-shirt when you realized. By the time you looked up again, Renun was in the water too, eyes looking almost apologetic. You told him a million times that you didn’t care at all about your shirt getting wet, but he kept insisting on walking to a nearby hut and buying you a new one. He didn’t want you to be cold on the ride home, he’d said. You forgot your original shirt in his car.

“Well, I guess this is as good a time as any for me to get it back.” You smile, playfully nudging his arm with your elbow before taking the shirt from him. You look towards his bedroom door, attempting to look past it for a bathroom to change in.

“Right next door,” he says, answering your silent question.

You look back at him–in awe of him. He anticipates your every need. You nod and reach up to kiss his cheek, lingering there for a moment. You pull away, heading to the bathroom next door, your heart beating at double speed. 

Renjun’s bathroom is clean, beautiful. It’s exactly what you’d expect from a clean, beautiful person. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you admire it. A small plant that he has had to learn how to keep alive. A candle that you can only assume he lights when he has a bath. Plush towels that tempt you to take that bath before bed. You shake your head once in an effort to refocus yourself, carefully stepping out of your clothes and into your shirt. You realize that you don’t have any shorts to wear with it, but he’s seen you in swimwear already. Your panties are much the same. Surely, he’s thought this too.

When you enter Renjun’s bedroom again, it’s darker. The overhead lights are off, leaving the room dimly lit by a single lamp on his bedside table. You can see him sitting against his headboard, legs under his sheets. His comforter is folded at the end of his bed–he probably only uses it when the temperature calls for it. His eyes round out just slightly as he smiles at you. He looks grateful that you’re here.

You make your way to his bed and slip under the sheets. Unlike Renjun, you cover yourself up to your shoulders, laying down properly on your side and looking at him. You match his smile. He matches your position, sinking down to mirror your body. You stay just like this–smiling, holding each other’s gaze, feeling what it’s like to find home in another person��for a minute or two.

Renjun’s eyes slide down to your lips. You almost gulp. Is he finally going to kiss you? His hand cups your face–much like he did in the kitchen–but this time, his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, featherlight.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It makes me think you want to kiss me.” Your voice is a whisper.

“Have you kissed anyone before?” He answers your question with a question, this thumb still grazing back and forth across your lip. His touch is so light that you wouldn’t know he was touching you at all if your lip wasn’t moving on its own accord.

Your cheeks heat up at the question. You’re not sure why. Maybe it’s because you want to know what would make him ask that. What is it about you that makes him think there's enough of a chance that you haven’t kissed anyone, so he should ask? What does he want the answer to be? Maybe it’s because the question alone makes you feel even more sure that he is going to kiss you this time.

While you’re busy thinking instead of answering, Renjun has either come to his own conclusion in his mind or decided that he doesn’t care after all, because he leans in, his eyes on your lips. The moment is finally here. You tense, bracing for what you’ve been craving.

Renjun notices your tension, mistaking it for nervousness. “Don’t be afraid. It’s me.” He whispers the words, his lips brushing against yours softly as he speaks.

His lips connect with yours, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your body relax with the kiss. Maybe you were nervous. You’ve never cared about someone this much, after all. He lets his lips pop free of yours after just one gentle peck of your lips, but he doesn’t pull away. He’s testing how you feel, what you want. You angle your face just slightly, playfully bumping his nose with yours as a signal that you’re just fine. He smiles and brushes his lips against yours before kissing you again.

This time, he doesn’t stop after the first kiss finishes. He follows it with another and another, each one stealing more of your breath. His lips are so soft and the connection between you can be felt physically, your body overwhelmed with passion. Your hand clutches the front of his shirt, tangling it in your fist as a way to disperse some of the tension in your body. His hand wraps around your fist, smiling against your lips.

He presses forward, directing you to lie on your back. He does it slowly and carefully enough that you could just ignore his body’s signals and stay as you are, but you oblige his request, welcoming his body on top of yours. He holds your face tenderly in one hand, holding himself up with the other, not wanting to overwhelm you too quickly. He lets his body melt on top of yours, his tongue asking for permission at the seam of your lips. You don’t hesitate to give it to him, parting your lips for him.

You’re both breathing heavily, the heat warming your faces. Renjun’s tongue is intentional in its exploration of your mouth, massaging your tongue in a sensual fashion that reflects the way he holds your face in his hand. Loving. 

Your hands are resting on either side of Renjun’s neck, holding lightly enough that if you put any less effort into your wrists, they would fall away. Renjun’s hands are on the move, gliding over your shoulders and down your arms. He takes your hands in his for a moment, threading his fingers through yours, squeezing affectionately. He turns your arms, letting his thumbs brush against your wrists. Through all of this, he never stops kissing you.

The kiss is more involved now, both of you angling your heads and chasing after each other’s lips like you’d die without them. Renjun licks into your mouth teasingly a few times, his hands gripping your hips where your shirt has bunched up and settled. You can’t help but moan softly at the flirtation. He grins against your lips before capturing them again, his fingers experimenting with the hem of your shirt. Your hands tighten their hold on his neck, moving closer to the back of his head, finding his hair. 

Renjun hums his approval against your lips, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt, feeling the warmth of your stomach. Your stomach tenses under his touch, the anticipation triggering an influx of adrenaline. 

Misunderstanding, Renjun’s hands retreat.

“No–” You dispute, breathless.

Renjun pulls back enough to see your face clearly, his amorous eyes searching yours. His thumb hooks under them of your shirt, brushing against the skin there, checking. Making sure you don’t really mind. “Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop.” He kisses the tip of your nose, surely reassuring you that he won’t be upset either way.

You nod, holding his eyes so he knows you mean it. “I want to be with you.”

That’s all Renjun needed to hear. He kisses you again–harder this time, but still precious. His hands fully move under your shirt, feeling the entire expanse of your abdomen. You sigh dreamily against his lips, he licks at yours playfully. He ventures off your mouth, kissing across your jaw, turning your head with his in the process. His hands reach your breasts, thumbs lightly brushing over the nipples. He savors the quiet moan you reward him with, cupping them. You moan again.

Your wrists are limply thrown over Renjun’s upper back as he kisses down your neck, focusing on the spot where it meets your shoulder. He sucks the skin into his mouth and you gasp at the sensation. If he keeps it up, he’ll be leaving a mark behind. You feel him hardening against your thigh as his hands massage your breasts, your pussy clenching at the prospect of feeling him inside you. I want to be as close to him as humanly possible, you think. 

Oh god, you’re hopelessly in love with him. There’s no question about it.

“Renjun…” You hesitate, timid. What if he doesn’t want the same thing?

“What is it, baby?” He asks, voice laced with affection. He kisses the same spot over and over, just pecks. He doesn’t want his mouth to get too involved when he might need to use more words.

“I want to feel you.” You manage the words. You feel shy, but he’s worth the effort. You swear you feel his cock twitch against your leg.

Renjun hums, pleased. He licks over the spot he’s been marking–once, twice, three times. “I’ll take care of you, baby. I want to feel you too.” He kisses back up to your lips, his hand skating down the softness of your belly towards your panties. His kiss is soft again, just like before. He keeps his tongue to himself, not wanting you to focus on anything but the feeling of him touching you, his hand reaching into your panties, fingers taking up residency in your folds.

He kisses the corner of your lips as you moan. You didn’t realize how much you wanted him. This first touch feels like you’ve been waiting your whole life for it. His middle finger tests your clit, pushing against it like a trigger-sensitive button, and you twitch, moaning louder than before.

“You’re already so sensitive.” You can hear the desire in his voice, his lips hovering by your jaw. He continues feeling you out, fingers gliding towards your entrance, finding much more arousal than he’d anticipated. “Fuck, y/n.”

A hint of embarrassment tinges your features. “I just… really want you.” You admit.

He groans with his own want, placing comforting kisses across your jaw as he makes his way back to your lips. “How did I get so lucky?” You kiss him before he can kiss you and he moans this time.

Not one to rush things or risk you being uncomfortable, Renjun’s fingers probe at your entrance. He guides one of his fingers inside you, both of you hissing at the feeling. Realizing that you’re plenty aroused enough, Renjun adds a second finger, working them gently inside you. You whine–wanting to keep feeling him like this, wanting to feel him more.

“I know, baby. Me too.”

Renjun thrusts his fingers a few more times before pulling them out. He sits back on his feet, pulling his shirt over his head. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but it’s different right now. You salivate, appreciating your view as he hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, peeling them down and off your legs before hovering over you again. 

“Should I get a condom?” He asks, his eyes level with yours. 

You take a moment to think before answering. “No.”

He raises his brow, asking silent questions. Does that mean you want me to stop? Do you want me to keep going without one?

“I want to feel you.” You repeat the words from earlier.

Renjun’s face looks pained at the words. The good kind of pain. The kind that comes with a groan of lust, love. He kisses you, using one hand to push his boxers down until they’re out of the way. He sighs with relief, the exhale causing your lips to separate. You stay in place, breathing against each other’s mouths as Renjun guides the tip of his cock through your slick. You can tell from the way his hips jerk at the feeling that he’s just as worked up as you are, if the sheer hardness of his cock wasn’t enough of a tell. You finger the hair at the back of his head, soothing him.

Renjun pulls back like he did before–just until he can see your face clearly. He watches your expression as he pushes himself into you, watching for any sign of discomfort even as he groans from pleasure. Fortunately, all he sees is the way your brows raise at the front and your jaw lowers, the prettiest moan he’s ever heard tumbling out of your kiss-swollen lips.

Taking this as a sign to give you more, Renjun starts to pump himself inside you. He’s slow, but not too slow. Just slow enough to make it feel like his tongue feels when it’s in your mouth–the delicious drag of his cock along your walls. You can feel every movement individually instead of it becoming one big, blurred assault. You moan in sync with each other, the feeling of being one the strongest aphrodisiac.

You find yourself grasping as Renjun fucks into you–for his shoulder, his back, his hair. Anything. It’s not that he’s fucking you so hard you need to hold onto something. It’s that everything feels so overwhelmingly good being with him that you need something to ground you. To remind you that this is real and possible and yours.

You like that Renjun doesn’t inhibit himself with you. He lets his own sounds of pleasure come freely, escalating as the pleasure does. You’re comfortable with each other–both pairs of hips coming together in an effort for maximum closeness. You pant and moan and shiver together, experiencing the same kind of romantic bliss as each other. One of Renjun’s hands takes yours from the back of his hair, linking his fingers through yours–holding.

Your other arm wraps around Renjun’s neck, pulling him down, wanting him closer. His head falls into the crook of your neck and you’re grateful, his beautiful moans now landing directly on your ears. He sounds so pretty–you want to tell him that later. Renjun’s free hand snakes under your back, pulling you up against him as you hold him down against you. He’s thrusting into you without more urgency now–the difference felt more noticeably through speed rather than intensity. The uptake of pace makes your lashes flutter, your orgasm nearing. You can tell from the way Renjun sounds that he’s close, too.

You squeeze Renjun’s hand with yours and you squeeze his cock with your pussy. He groans. You can almost hear him thinking I know, baby. Me too. You hold onto his neck for dear life as he continues ramping up the pace, making your head feel dizzy on his pillow. Your moans slur into one long one, Renjun’s mixing with grunts. Your eyes roll back as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body vibrating in Renjun’s hold. You hear his erotic vocals stutter at the feeling of you tightening around him, creaming him. Oh my god, you hear.

Renjun comes right after, his own white coating your insides. The warmth of it is as comforting as Renjun himself. Renjun’s hips still as his orgasm diffuses, keeping himself fully sheathed inside your perfect body. He exhales heavy breaths against your shoulder before lifting his head. It feels like it weighs a ton right now, but he wants to see you. You make eye contact, wordlessly staring into each other’s eyes–maybe, even, each other’s souls–for a few long moments.

“Y/n?”

You swallow thickly, tongue licking your lips as you try to come back to your body. “Hmm?”

Renjun takes your face in his hand, looking down at you with shining eyes. He kisses your nose with his nose. “I think I might be in love with you.” He sounds vulnerable, but more importantly: he sounds certain, despite his phrasing.

Your eyes scan his face–every perfect feature. You feel the need to memorize them at this very moment, as if you’d never get another chance to see them. Funny, considering you intend on seeing them as much as you possibly can for the rest of your life. 

The silence lingers on too long. Renjun is patient, like always. 

“I think I’m in love with you, too.”

Renjun grins through his exhausted state. He wraps both arms under your back, squeezing tightly around your waist. He hugs you to himself, making you laugh as he rolls over until you’re laying comfortably on top of him. You’re still connected at the crotch.

“I think that’s the best thing anyone has ever said to me,” he says, finally releasing his tight squeeze. He keeps his arms around you, one hand tracing lines up and down your back with his fingertips. That’s the best thing I’ve ever said, you think to yourself, closing your eyes to enjoy this moment.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet + ch 45

a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... all chapters

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

45. halcyon daze

With Christmas on the horizon you take a break from your Persephone-inspired series to work on a present for John. There’s not a thing in the world you could buy him that he couldn’t buy for himself; but you have two hands, some talent and creativity: things that can’t yet be bought on Amazon. You’d noticed that he’s been working on an old set of Russian Fairytales. 

It still never fails to destroy your heart, that John favors mending the binding of children’s stories, as though he can recapture and sew back together some aspect of his own broken youth. 

Some of the illustrations in this edition are faded, one is even half destroyed, the paper torn. The writing is in cyrillic, you haven’t learned to read it yet, but with some [you hope] casually peppered questions, you manage to glean enough information to look up what they’re supposed to be. You make some replacements for him, and in the case of the Knight of Night in the story of Vasilisa the Beautiful, the warrior in black might bear more than a passing resemblance to your own dark assassin.  

When he opens this gift the wonder in his eyes is priceless to you. “I didn’t make you anything,” he apologizes guiltily, and while you are sitting amidst the piles of your freshly bestowed loot, which you still can’t help but feel guilty about. He bought you a stylish new motorcycle jacket, a fresh set of artist series gouache tubes and paper, an antique gold art nouveau lavalier necklace in the form of a flowing narcissus flower with glowing enameled accents and a dangling pearl –you are filled with so much love you fear your heart might burst.

You crawl across the floor, into his lap. He barely has time to set the drawings aside before your mouth is on his, and you are toppling him back almost into the Christmas tree with your ardor. By the time you are finished with him, you’re pretty sure he knows how happy he makes you, but just in case you tell him for good measure. “I love you more than I know how to say.” 

***

As winter drags on you look to John’s in-house gym to get exercise, even though you despise running on the treadmill. You feel like a hamster, jogging your ass off to nowhere. You try to keep up with your yoga practice, though you rarely get to finish a session. Somehow, John always manages to time walking in on you when you have your ass in the air. “Have mercy, I’m only a man,” he teases you, like this is an excuse for toppling you over and pinning you down with his body and his mouth on yours. 

It’s hard to get too mad about it, considering. 

You suppose you do still get a stretch and a workout, not to mention a belly laugh, in the end. 

Continuing your training stays interesting, although he wasn’t lying before when he said he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you. More often than not when you spar, you end up fucking on the floor. He’s never more beautiful than when his dark eyes glitter with anticipation of the hunt; you’ve learned a lot, but you know you stand zero chance against him. 

Maybe it’s not fair, when he loses patience and uses his experience and his size to put you down on the ground, sweeping your legs or twisting your arm behind you while he pulls down your leggings, baring your ass to the room. But he finds you soaking wet every time he claims his prize, guiding himself inside you, your growls quickly turning to moans for the way he fills you up and takes you down. “I fucking love it when you fight me,” he admits breathlessly, thrusting until you both cum loudly, your face pressed into the rubber floor.

It’s a game you love to lose.   

***

Winter starts to thaw, and you have cabin fever, ready to go outside. John is engrossed in a binding project: you finished your illustrations, and now he seems just as engaged in his side of the collaboration as you were yours. You find him smiling at a rendition of Dog as Cerberus with three heads when you pop into his workshop. “Want to go for a hike?”

He looks around at the mess he’s made on his worktable. “I’m not at a good stopping point,” he admits, and you understand that perfectly well. “You can go, just don’t be gone too long, alright?”

He could have pushed you over with a feather, you are so surprised to receive this clearance for a solo trek. 

You kiss him on the cheek in thanks. “I’ll be back soon,” you promise, still hardly able to believe your luck. 

“Y/n?” he calls as you’re at the door. “Take Dog?”

“I’m going too far for him.” Long walks hurt his paws.

“Then take your pistol.” You nod before disappearing up the stairs. Once upon a time, the thought of going around casually armed would have seemed like pure insanity to you. Now it’s simply a fact of life. You don’t have an official license for concealed carry, but after your intensive training at the Continental you feel perfectly confident that you won’t shoot anyone–unless you mean to. You live in John’s world now: survive first, worry about getting caught later…and pay off the appropriate officials if you have to.

That’s just the thug life, you suppose. 

The air outside is crisp and fresh, leaves and pine needles perfuming the woods in a way that intoxicates you more than any man-made scent. You take off down the trail at a brisk pace, feeling like you have wings on your feet. Knowing you could walk for miles and miles in this mood, you set a timer on your phone so you don’t forget yourself. Scaring John after he’s given you this confidence will not bode well for the future. Once upon a time such a leash would have chafed, but now you understand so much better what his fears are rooted in. You’ve peered into the darkness behind the curtain; there’s no going back. 

It’s the middle of the day in the middle of the week and you haven’t seen a soul, and on such a fine day as this, it is easy to forget that there’s a bustling, seething world of human strife out there. Or so you imagine, as you are sitting on the outcrop of your favorite overlook, your feet dangling out over oblivion. Yet, when you think you hear voices coming up the trail a sudden instinct kicks in to hide, to avoid being seen. Without really even thinking about it you tip yourself off the ledge, grabbing a branch of an ancient tree growing out of the rocks to break your fall, and dropping down to conceal yourself flat upon a narrow ledge.

“Dude, where’d she go?” you hear from above, your heart pounding in your chest, the blocky hardness of your little Beretta pressing into the small of your back as you lean against the stone face of the cliff a reassuring comfort. You realize then that John is not the only one with a residual paranoia from your misadventures. As you listen to the obviously harmless hikers above, you feel utterly ridiculous, and you wait for them to go so that you can make your way back in peace. 

Maybe it’s good to be alert, but at what point does one just have to get on with one’s life? If you live like a paranoid little rat scurrying around out of sight, then Dante has won in a different way. You think about this a lot, as you make your way home up the mountain. 

***

Perhaps it’s fitting, that with the renewal of spring all around you, John finishes the binding of your book. He calls you into the basement to inspect his workmanship, standing behind you as you behold the finished tome. The cover is embossed black leather with gold leaf. There is no title, just a design of an upturned skull grown through with blooming narcissus flowers. Slowly, you flip through the pages, enchanted with how he transformed your loose paintings into something so refined. 

“I love it,” you tell him, caressing a page bearing his likeness, the God of Death embracing his consort (that may bear a passing resemblance to you) in a Klimt-esque kiss. He nuzzles into your neck, kissing behind your ear. “But you didn’t sign it,” you complain, noting the lack of his usual This Book was Bound by John Wick plate. 

“I thought…we could do it together, as a wedding present?” he offers. You realize he means signing it with your joined name, and maybe it’s silly, but the thought makes your belly erupt into butterflies. You haven’t really talked about the wedding much. Though you wear the ring happily, he hasn’t really mentioned it at all, giving you space or otherwise occupied, you’re not entirely sure. 

“I would love that,” you agree, tilting your head for a kiss. His fingers dig into your hips as it deepens, a low moan called up from his throat. 

“Have you thought about what you might like?” he asks, kissing your neck again, his hands slipping under your shirt. 

“I don’t want anything fancy,” you admit breathlessly. “All I want is you.” You find the thought of bringing your dysfunctional family together in celebration only inspires anxiety. You have no lasting affiliations with any church–you do not feel the need to seek any god’s blessing of your union. You find you are just ready for it to be so. 

You feel him pause behind you, letting out a shuddering sigh. You wonder if he’s thinking about the journey you’ve taken, to get where you are today, together. You certainly are, looking at your book, and the allegory it tells of your tumultuous courtship. It wasn’t easy, and you can’t say anything so trite as you knew it would turn out–but you realize you did have the naivety to hope. For once…maybe your forgiving nature has finally paid off for you. You feel like you’ve been living in a halcyon daze, you are so happy. You hope it never changes, even if deep down you know it will. 

Change is the only certainty we’re ever afforded.

“Surely you want something nicer than a trip to the courthouse,” he pries, certain there’s something you’re not telling him. You do still feel embarrassed sometimes, about spending his money on things, even though he gives you free reign with unparallelled generosity. 

“I really don't want a big ceremony,” you assure him. “But…would you like it, if Winston married us?”

John huffs behind you, and you hear the smile in his voice. “I'm not sure that's something he does.”

You giggle at the thought, and you can tell John at least likes the idea of his father figure–one of his few remaining friends, being there. And, you like Winston too. “I bet he’d do it for you, John.”

“Hmm. We’ll think on that.”

It’s not a no.

“You know what I do want?” you pose, turning a page of your new book.This illustration is a rather explicit one, Death kneeling at her feet with his face buried in her pussy, her back bowed in sweet agony, the dark waters of the river Styx glittering behind them. He offered her the most exquisite pleasures, but withheld release unless she agreed to be his forever. Though deep in her heart she knew she loved him immeasurably, still she refused.

Neither John nor you are immune to the effect of perusing this pornographic work together; his long fingers dip into the waistband of your jeans, his fingertips just nearly caressing your mound.   

“Anything,” he tells you, nibbling at your ear. It takes you a moment to remember what you were talking about, your clit throbbing in answer to his seeking fingers and his other hand up your shirt. As a result your answer comes in breathy bursts. 

“I want…to go on an adventure with you. A long honeymoon,” you tell him, writhing against him as his hand finds your breast, toying with the taut peak of your nipple. You know he likes to travel as much as you do. Wouldn’t it be novel to go somewhere and not even need to assassinate someone in the interim?

You feel him chuckle behind you, more than hear it. “I might have guessed. Where do you want to go?” He asks you this while his fingers tease your curls, so close to touching you where you need him most. You are past shame, when your voice cracks. 

“Where can we go?” You assume most of Europe is off the table these days. 

“Hmm. You still have a yen for South America?” 

You nod, and he laughs again, though he catches your mouth in a tooth-counting kiss before you can answer–ie defend yourself from the usual allegations. At last his middle finger dips into your wet slit, and the sound of relief that escapes you is barely human.  

“Young lady…” he growls, nipping at your ear. “This is quite a dirty little book you’ve drawn. Do you know how many times I had to come find you while I was working on this?” You moan as he swipes up your juices, finally circling your clit as his other hand dips into your bra. You feel his erection straining against the curve of your bottom; you press yourself back against him, wanting what’s yours. Your answer is part laughter, part moan–for the umpteenth time, you feel like life is perfect with this man. 

“Probably as often as I had to come find you while drawing it,” you answer cheekily, arching back to hold his neck, opening yourself completely to him. Your knees threaten to buckle as he touches you, but soon you find yourself bent over his table, his corded forearms braced like columns on either side of you as he fucks you silly amidst the smell of old books, leather, and binding glue.  

It really doesn’t get any better than this.

***

When warmer weather comes you start to take out the bikes again. After a few outings you feel sufficiently refreshed, and more than ready to take your test. You make your appointment for next week, and you feel like a teenager again, full of nervous energy for the impending exam. John finds this amusing. “You can ride, sweetheart. And if you fail, you can just take it again.” 

But the perfectionist academic in you wants to ace it on the first go. When you express the desire to go for a practice ride while John is working on a new project he nods, not even looking up from his worktable. “Be careful.” 

“Take your pistol. I know,” you tease. This has become a broken record between you two–remembering a time when he wouldn’t have dreamed of letting you out of his sight, you do not mind. He narrows his eyes at you playfully, before letting you off with that slight smile that still squeezes your heart in your chest. 

You gear up in your kevlar jeans, boots and jacket, gloves and helmet. Concealed carry is ridiculously easy, with such bulk about you. You feel a bit like a commando, every time you put on the jacket with its armored panels. You fire up the Kawasaki and potter down the driveway. You like this bike, it’s been great to learn on, but John has been teasing you about an upgrade if you’re a good girl. 

Considering you feel where he’s been inside you every time you sit down, you’re pretty sure you’re meeting the requirements. You think about this with a smile as you hit a straightaway, and let the machine open up beneath you. 

It really is the closest you can get to flying on the ground. 

Exhilarated, maybe even feeling a little cocky, you make your loop of the mountain roads and then decide to make a quick stop down in town. You’ve worn out your three favorite paint brushes, the chisel tip, the angle shader, and the tiny 3/0 you favor for small details. Mr. Morton will get you squared away. 

You park in the lot behind the art store, and carry your helmet inside. You don’t dally long, even though the smell of oil paint and linseed oil inside the little store is a marvelous thing. You chat with Mr. Morton, pet the shop cat, and tuck your score into your inside pocket before walking back out to the parking lot. 

It’s totally cliché, but the rest goes by in a blur. 

A black SUV rolls up beside you, screeching on its brakes, a man jumping out of the backseat making a B line for you. Too late, you realize your rookie mistake. Your jacket is zipped up to your chin–you can’t draw your pistol under your arm in time. But you have your helmet in your hand, and without hesitation, you introduce it to his face as hard as you can. 

“At least offer a girl some candy first, asshole!”

The driver spills out next, cursing and trying to grab you, dodging your second swing with the helmet. You side-step him, but he manages to snag your jacket. Rather than pull against his hold you let him drag you to him, meeting his groin dead-on with your knee. As he crumples you hit him in the face with your armored elbow, and run for your bike while shoving your helmet onto your head. 

Maybe you should have run back to the shop, to the thoroughfare, to the safety of witnesses. But all you can think in that moment is that John might need you. You have a terrible feeling that something bad could be happening at home, and so you start your bike and tear off faster and more recklessly than you ever have before. The handlebars wobble in your haste but you manage to get a hold of the machine, concentrating on working the clutch and the gears to pick up speed as fast as you can. If you look back, you know you’ll crash. You run a stop sign, veering around a car by the skin of your teeth, leaving the sound of screeching wheels and honking horns behind you.  

Out of town, you drop a gear and take off like a rocket up the mountain, passing cars where you definitely shouldn’t. I’m coming, John. Maybe it’s ridiculous. How much help could you possibly be to John Wick? But you won’t rest until you set eyes on him again. 

Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised, when the G Wagon roars up next to you again. In your peripheral you see the passenger in the window, his extended arm, the blocky black shape of a gun. They veer at you, trying to run you off the road. You brake the bike, letting them whip past you, nearly going off the pavement themselves in the confusion. You decide to turn off onto a sideroad, a winding death-trap of a paved goat trail that you know like the back of your hand, though you’ve never ridden it before, only drove. You hope you’ll lose them in the snarl of tight curves. It will take longer to get home, but if worse comes to worse maybe you can abandon the bike and lose them in the trees. 

Home turf advantage, you tell yourself, not entirely convinced. These guys mean business–and you’re fairly sure the driver’s accent was Italian. 

You don’t really hear it past the roar of your engine and your heartbeat in your ears, when they come up behind you. You do hear the shot, and you flinch, ducking low to make yourself a smaller target. But he wasn’t aiming for you. 

He was aiming for your tire, and when it blows the bike goes wild–and you really get to experience flying.

It’s almost exhilarating, sailing through the air, until you hit the pavement hard, skidding across the unforgiving asphalt, rolling to take some of the momentum. You lay there on the tarmac, alive, but completely stunned. You tell yourself to get up–but your body doesn’t listen. You see the shadow of a man over you. It’s Helmet Man–his face is a mask of blood; it looks like you broke his nose, and he’s pissed about it.

He kicks you in the side before shoving a needle through your jeans, into the meat of your butt. On the verge of puking in your helmet, the world swims, then goes black.

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

*author's note: Full credit to @discoscoob for suggesting that Winston should officiate, I love it, you're brilliant! 😘 And the yoga scene is totally @treedaddymcpuffpuff 's fault. I love our unhinged conversations boo 🤣 The Brain Rot would not be so strong or so FUN without you!❤❤❤❤❤❤❤ :)))))))))))))))))

**maybe i should also add that certain eXplicit panels in the BRZRKR Bloodlines comic inspired a great deal of this dumpster fire 🥵🤣🤣, y'all should definitely check it out, the artwork is great!

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all chapters

[mythicmanuscripts]

ok listen I’m gonna need more sensitive sub!jace. Like right now. Immediately. I am just in awe I love this concept so much. can you maybe discuss how the first time having actual sex would go? I feel like maybe it’s something Jace would try to warn you about again before you have sex?

I am so glad we are gaining more members of the sensitive!jace agenda!!!

NSFW sub!jace under the cut :))

So for any lads who missed my last Jace post: I wrote about Jace cumming from grinding against your thigh before the wedding. He cums in his clothes and then almost instantly he’s so sensitive and overwhelmed because the fabric touching his cock is too much. You have to help him walk to the bed and gently take his pants off for him while he whines and shakes. He’s too sensitive to even clean himself yet. When you return from putting his clothes away he’s crying, getting hit hard by the endorphin drop he always experiences after he cums. You climb into bed with him, holding him tight until he drifts off to sleep and then sneak back into your own room so no one finds out.

After that incident, I think Jace would start to avoid you actually? Cause yeah you helped him, but he thinks that’s just because you’re a good person. He’s convinced that if he does come face to face with you, you’ll call off the wedding or call him pathetic or demand he tells his mother to marry him to another.

And he doesn’t want that!! He really really doesn’t. Cause as much as he was overwhelmed and sensitive, it still felt so good in the moment and honestly, he really loved having you take care of him? Once you pulled him into your arms, he stopped feeling so shaky and scared and he fell asleep so easily.

He would love to have that again, to have that every night in fact but he’s so certain you’re disgusted with him now.

So in all honesty he’s a little shocked when you actually arrive to the wedding and play your part and kiss him when it’s over. You keep a hold of his hand the entire evening, because you fear if you let go then he’ll disappear again. You had wanted to give him enough space to come back to you on his own time, but he’s ran out of time now, you’re married now.

The two of you retire to your new shared living quarters early, and poor side is flustered and nervous from the moment the door closes behind you two.

You ask him what happened, ask him if you somehow made him uncomfortable and he immediately assures you that you didn’t. You ask why he hasn’t spoken to you after that night then, and that’s when he says that he thought you wouldn’t want to be with him anymore.

When you tell him that you loved every second of it, including caring for him. You say that you’re his wife now, and it’s your job to keep those parts of him protected and safe. You would be honoured to have that privilege.

Which… poor Jace doesn’t even know what to say to that so he just kisses you and clings to you because the knowledge that his wife actually wants that side of him is too much for him. Brain off, no more Jace, only pretty wife.

Things get heated, because of course they do and pretty soon Jace pulls away and warns you. He’s panting hard and blushing even harder and stumbling over his words as he tries to explain that he always get that’s sensitive after he finishes and he always feels that sadness afterwards and that he thinks it might be even worse than normal for his first time actually having sex.

In that moment you promise yourself that you will always protect him. This soft, sweet side of him must be kept safe always.

Because Jace is well, Jace, he of course wants to please you. He wants you to feel good too!! Of course he does.

But he has no idea how because honestly he doubts he’ll manage to last long enough for that and he certainly can’t give you anything after he cums.

You tentatively suggest oral sex and Jace’s eyes just light up. Instantly he’s so so on board. A way to make you feel good with no risk of him cumming too soon and ruining the ensure mood? Incredible.

You have to direct him of course.

At first you say you can lay on the bed and Jace can lay on his tummy been your legs, but then Jace blushes even harder and looks away and eventually mumbles, “The… the linen against me might be too much…”

Which… yeah it’s official you’d die for him.

You end up sitting on the comfortable armchair that faces the bed while Jace kneels in front of you. He follows your every instruction and honestly he has the time of his life. This is genuinely better than actually cumming for him. He’s utterly obsessed. He can hear you moan and say his name and tell him how well he’s doing and he’s truly on cloud 9. He would like to never leave the space between your thighs ever again. He’s just gonna camp out here from now on.

The poor thing actually whines and protests when you pull him away. He’s already given you two orgasms but he’s not done!!! He wants more!! Jace would never be greedy about his own pleasure, but this? He’s an absolute glutton about this.

You have to pull him by his hair and tell him that you’re getting too sensitive. He understands of course and would never disobey you, but he does make it very clear that he wishes to do more.

Then the actual sex happens. Jace is, of course, rock hard when you remove his clothes. He’s been hard ever since you suggested he eat you out but honestly he hadn’t even noticed, he was too absorbed in making you feel good.

Trying to work out the right position takes a moment, because as much as you would love to ride the fuck out of him, you’re uncertain if it’s the best because you’d be sitting directly on his cock after he cums and that might be too much for in.

So you suggest missionary, because Jace can easily pull out whenever. When you explain this line of thought, Jace kinda just lets out a broken sob and kisses you again. He can’t believe how lucky he is.

And god, watching his face when he enters you? You’ll never be the same again.

His face scrunches up for a moment and then slackens as he tries to take some steady breaths. He sheaths himself fully in you, and then kinda just stays there for a moment and tries not to immediately lose it.

You direct his head towards you and kiss him softly until he’s ready to move.

And he’s so slow with it? Honestly you don’t even try to get him to speed up because the view you’re getting is insane. Pretty soon he’s shaking and crying and mumbling that he’s close.

You haven’t cum yet, but you didn’t expect to. He made you cum twice earlier, and now all you really want is to see him fall apart. He whines and shakes his head when he hears this, because he doesn’t like the idea of you not cumming again but at the same time the poor thing can barely hold himself together.

In the end, you pull his head down, kiss his neck and then whisper that he can eat his own cum out of you once he’s done.

And well, he’s done. Absolutely no way he could fight it after hearing that. He gasps out a sound that is similar to your name and buries himself fully on you. You can feel the little bucks of his hips as he empties himself and then just prompt collapses.

You kiss his cheeks, telling him he was perfect and then telling him to quickly pull out before he gets too sensitive. Of course he’s already too sensitive, but he manages to quickly pull out and collapse next to you. He slowly rolls onto his back and pants, looking at you with nothing but love and adoration as tries to calm down again.

You brush his hair off his forehead, his entire body is covered in a slight sheen of sweat and his thighs are still shaking a little. You end up sitting up against the headboard and gently pulling him into your lap. His head rests on your lap and he just breathes for a little bit, pressing kisses to your tummy every now and then and eventually lifting his hand up to show you that he wants you to hold it.

When he’s clearly starting to recover a little more, you start talking.

“That feel good?” You ask him, your voice light and loving. Of course you already know the answer, but you just want to give him some sweet loving teasing as he slowly comes back.

He hums in response and presses more kisses to your tummy.

You see tears start to form in his eyes and you quickly wipe them away as they fall, telling him that you couldn’t be happier with how he performed. He was absolutely perfect for you.

He actually manages to feel a lot better a lot quicker which he really didn’t expect. But he supposes it makes sense, he’s not on his own as his endorphins drop, he’s practically being petted.

You just about think he’s fallen asleep when he opens his eyes again and gives you a lazy smile.

“Can I do it now?” He asks, smiling.

“Do what?” You ask.

“You said I could go down on you again. Can I do it now? Please?” You chuckle, because you honestly didn’t expect him to even remember that.

“Please?” He whines again, pouting when you don’t respond immediately. What you realise then is that while Jace will get all sad and weepy and uncomfortable when left on his own after he cums, when you’re there to help him he kinda just turns into a softer, needier version of himself?

And well, there’s certainly no need to deny him.

[stargirlinterludefr]

GOOD LUCK, BABE!: sarah cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: you and sarah are were best friends, she said she wanted to experiment and while she’s everything to you, you’re just an experiment to her. Maybe she was in denial but she realises too late that whatever the two of you had wasn’t ‘nothing’ and she’s forced to stand face to face with i told you so.

TW: hints of homophobia, internalised homophobia, discussion of comphet, drug usage, alcohol consumption, angst, topper, ward actually being a good dad for once, use of y/n, jj being brutally honest

NOTES: sarah is a lesbian in this fic but she struggles heavily with comphet (compulsory heterosexuality) and similar to the song, gets with a man because she can’t accept her sexuality. I have been in the readers situation so writing from experience I suppose.

word count: around 3,010

Driving at sunset in the outer banks is a serene experience, the way the colours dance across the sky and eventually blend into the horizon when you look out upon the sea.

Driving at sunset in the outer banks had always been one of yours and your best friend Sarah’s favourite things to do together, the way you’d drive and she’d stand up through the sun roof of the car, arms our like some kind of angel.

How could you not fall for her?

You were fine with your one sided feelings, truly you were, Sarah was your best friend and you’d already had the conversation about how you didn’t feel anything for her when you eventually came out to her. A big lie, of course, but you just didn’t want to lose her.

So, driving at sunset in the outer banks with the girl you love silently may be foolish to others but it’s a serene kind of peace you’d never want to exchange.

Driving on the same route as usual, you wait for Sarah’s usual routine of pressing on some random Taylor Swift song and standing through the sunroof of her car, but she remains sat in the passenger seat with a mindful expression etched onto her features.

“You okay, Sare?” You ask, taking your eyes off of the desolate road for a moment to glance at her as she hums in response.

“Me? Yeah, ‘course.” She mumbles and you know it’s not true which is why at the next turning that leads to an open space to park, you pull the car over so you can give her your full attention.

“Okay, fess up, you’ve been staring out of the window like you’re contemplating throwing yourself out of the car ever since we got into it.” You say, a slight tease to your tone to help lift her spirits but she simply offers a small smile.

“I want to ask you something…and I-I want you to keep an open mind, okay?” She says after a moments silence and you’re quick to nod, studying the side of her face intently as you wait for whatever thoughts have been bothering her.

“So, you know how you’re gay?” The words have you choking on a breath, eyes widening as you let out a laugh but by the serious look on her face you quickly simmer down.

“Uh yeah, that is uh what I am, big lover of women…why?” You say awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck as Sarah fully turns to look at you now.

“I’ve been thinking that…I might want to like, you know, experiment…” she mumbles and you have to hold your breath to prevent you from choking on it again, “With uh girls…and since your my best friend and the only openly lesbian person I know I thought that maybe I’d…ask you.”

You both stare at eachother for a second, your mind is scrambling and reeling for a response as Sarah’s face becomes increasingly more red.

“I-it’s stupid I know but-“ She starts but you quickly cut her off.

“No, it’s not stupid I uh…I’d be- I mean sure, I’m happy you trust me enough to come to me about this.” You say, clearing your throat as you finish, you know deep down that this is only going to end in tears but if this is the one chance you get to love her without hiding it as much, you don’t want to give it up.

Sarah smiles as she nods in relief, “Yeah? I mean, it obviously won’t mean anything like feelings wise because we’re best friends it’s just like…friends with benefits?” She says and you hate the way your stomach drops slightly but you hide it from her, smiling as you nod.

“Yeah…sure.”

-

One month into yours and Sarah’s ‘nothing’ situation has you realising it isn’t really nothing. Sarah likes to say the two of you are nothing, pointing out she’s merely trying out new things and in turn your getting a good lay.

But the two of you clearly aren’t ‘nothing’ and that becomes increasingly obvious when one of the only people in the world you thought wouldn’t notice the underlying tension, did.

You know Sarah’s brother isn’t blind, he’s always been surprisingly observant and ever since he’d discovered you weren’t interested in men he’d ‘joked’ that you and Sarah would probably end up hooking up eventually.

You now also realise that he wasn’t exactly joking.

“You should call it off, y’know.” A voice sounds from behind where you’re sat on the deck chairs surrounding the large pool at Tannyhill, Sarah having gone inside to make the two of you drinks.

As you turn to see the source of the voice, you’re met with the sight of Rafe’s looming figure. Sunglasses are sat on his face so you can’t see his eyes as he looks at you but when you glance behind him briefly, you can see Sarah conversing with Topper in the kitchen.

“And you’re talking about…?” You trail off, quirking a brow at him as he snorts out a laugh and rounds your deck chair to sit on the one beside you.

“I think you know what I’m talking about, princess.” He states, lying back on his chair nonchalantly as you continue to look at him.

You swallow, you weren’t exactly afraid you and Sarah had been found out but you didn’t want to out her when she didn’t even properly know what her sexuality was yet.

Rafe continues when you remain silent, “I’m just sayin’ kid, I may be her brother but Sarah’s gonna fucking break your heart, she’s never been one to face her feelings.”

You immediately feel defensive, maybe it’s because you love her or maybe it’s because you yourself are in denial. “And you are?”

He lets out a chuckle at that, turning his head to look at you through his sunglasses “Never said I was.” Rafe states before adding, “That’s also how I know whatever it is y’all have going on, it’s gonna end badly, because like me…Sarah can’t face her feelings and she sure as shit is not gonna admit the fact that you love her.”

You don’t even have time to process his words because Sarah and Topper come walking back toward the pool, you turn back to your previous position as Rafe stares at you for a moment before he turns his head back toward the pool.

Sarah and Topper are laughing as she places your drinks on the near by table and an ugly feeling of jealousy coils in your gut as you watch the two of them, the way he stares down at her and the way she bats her eyelashes up at him.

You barely register Rafe’s mutter beside you, “So fucked.”

-

Sarah is kissing you sloppily, her legs wrapped around your waist as you hold her hips, everyone once in a while she lets out soft moans into the kiss before eventually she pulls away to check her phone that buzzes beside you.

You hate when she does that. You hate when she breaks away from you as though nothing at all is happening.

As her eyes flit over the screen you watch as she looks up at you before back down to her phone with a guilty expression,

“Topper?” You hum and she nods, climbing off of your lap and you follow her in standing up. Music is still blaring from downstairs and you feel dizzy from the way Sarah was just kissing you and the alcohol in your system.

“I’ll come find you later, yeah?” She mumbles, eyes not meeting yours before she’s gone out of the room before you can even blink.

She always does that, avoiding your gaze after the two of you had done something that branched away from ‘just friends’ because she couldn’t dare to face up to you and her own emotions.

You sigh, rolling your shoulders as you leave the room shortly after, slowly pushing past sweaty bodies and couples making out as you stumble down the stairs.

As you reach the bottom you come to a slow halt when your eyes latch onto something that makes your head spin.

Sarah kissing Topper. Topper kissing Sarah. Sarah’s kissing Topper. Topper’s kissing Sarah. Sarah’s kissing Topper? Topper’s kissing Sarah?

You feel sick, your heart beats violently in your ears and you can’t force your eyes away. You can’t do anything but stand and stare.

After a moment, Sarah’s eyes open while she and the dreaded boy continue to make out, said eyes dance over to where your stood and you think for a moment she looks guilty but before you can decipher the look…her full attention is back on Topper and you’re left looking like an absolute fool.

-

Sarah finds you around an hour later, stumbling over to where you are sat beside JJ, the two of you sharing a joint.

The Cameron girl smiles widely when she spots you, all but throwing herself to sit on your lap and your jaw ticks in annoyance which you know JJ notices immediately.

“Heyyy, I missed you.” She slurs, hands coming to tangle in your hair as she places a drunken kiss to your lips and then drags them down your neck as JJ clears his throat awkwardly.

“I’ll uh…catch you later.” He says, coming to stand and you nod your head in thanks, not missing the way his eyes all but scream that you have some serious explaining to do.

“Sarah…” You mutter, attempting to lightly draw the girl away from your neck but she doesn’t seem to budge so you pull her away with a slight bit more force and she looks at you with a pout that makes your heart stutter warmly in your chest.

“I think it’s time for-“ You begin but Sarah cuts you off.

“I’m sorry, about Top, I just…you give me all these crazy feelings and I needed them to stop.” She slurs drunkenly, hands coming to cup and squish your cheeks together. “It’s just the way I am, you’re my best friend and Topper’s like soooo sweet.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to plummet, you feel so humiliated but you know she’s drunk and you hope that she maybe remembers what she’s said in the morning but you know that won’t happen.

You gently remove her hands from your cheeks before you awkwardly pat them, “Well uh good luck with that.” You say, already knowing that whatever she was trying to do by kissing Topper was never going to work.

You knew first hand, you’d have to stop the world just to stop these feelings and that would never happen.

-

JJ Maybank was probably one of the only men on the planet you trusted whole heartedly, the boy was your best friend and you loved him like a brother.

Which is why you felt like an asshole for the way he’s looking at you right now.

“You’re tellin’ me kook prince, Rafe Cameron, knew about whatever little sexy mackin’ thing you got going on with Sarah Cameron before I did?” He says, eyebrows raised as his hands wave wildly around “Me? Your best friend, the guy who taught you how to give good head to a gir-“

“Okay! I get it, I’m sorry!” You say loudly, interrupting the route he was going, you know he’s not truly hurt that you didn’t tell him because it’s JJ.

“But seriously bro, what’re you gonna do? Because, not to ever say I agree with Cameron but, she’s totally gonna break your heart.” He rambles, taking a sip from his beer bottle as he comes to sit across from you on the dock the two of you are currently situated at, the dock at the Chateau.

“I don’t know…if it means I don’t have to lose her then maybe I’ll just keep doing it?” You say, shrugging as you watch JJ quirk a brow at you.

“First of all, that’s cliché as fuck, second of all this whole situation is not fair on you at all.” He states, gently nudging your foot with his own. “She’s usin’ you as like some sorta’ experiment and I get it’s hard to come to terms with who you are, I saw it first hand with you, but this shit ain’t fair bro…and it ain’t love.”

You don’t say anything to that, simply nodding as you swallow harshly, turning to look out at the small rippling waves of the water.

-

Sarah is sat on the sofa in the large living room of Tannyhill, eyes boring into the ceiling as she pays no mind to the show playing in the background on the tv.

The sound of her father walking in makes her turn her head and give him a small smile as he comes to sit across from her, ending the call he was on as he looks at her.

“You okay, sweetie?” Ward asks, eyes trained intently on Sarah who nibbles softly at her bottom lip.

“I- uh…yeah- I mean…I don’t know-“ She starts and before she can even get another word out, Ward is sat beside her and pulling his daughter into his arms before the tears fall down her cheeks.

“It’s okay, honey, it’s all gonna be okay.”

All Sarah can do is nod because she doesn’t believe that true, nothings okay with the fact that she could possibly lose you because she can’t understand why she’s feeling these things for you and she feels like her only option is to bail, because while she knows deep down you love her in a way that she’ll never understand…she also knows she’ll fuck it up.

-

Driving through the outer banks at sunset was yours and Sarah’s favourite thing to do together but now, with everything the two of you have been doing, you don’t think you can do these drives without the blinding feeling that nostalgia and Sarah give you.

You pull over similar to the time you did when Sarah brought her idea forward but on this occasion, you’re the one who can’t look at her.

“I’m gonna say something and…I just, need you to listen because…I can only gather so much strength to say it.” You croak out, not daring to look at her because you know she’s already crying and you can’t bear the fact that you could be inflicting pain on the girl you love.

“I love you Sarah…and I tried not to, I really did-“ You choke out, squeezing your eyes closed for a second before reopening them and continuing, “I think I’ve always loved you, before we even became what we are now, but this isn’t what love should be.”

You turn to her then, Sarah’s lips trembling as tears stream down her face and you fight the urge to lean over and take her into your arms.

If you did that, you’d never be able to end this.

“I know you’re confused but…I think you know, deep down, that whatever you feel toward me is real and you’re scared to acknowledge that.” You point out and Sarah lets out a shaky breath at your words.

“You’re my best friend, of course I feel things toward you-“ She attempts to say and you shake your head as you cut her off.

“We’re not just friends, Sarah.” You note, running a hand over your face as the girl beside you crosses her arms over her chest.

“I’m not gay.” She says, her tone so unsure yet so confident that you almost feel guilty for some unknown reason. Guilty for what, exactly? You don’t know, maybe for ending whatever it is you had going on alongside your friendship.

“Come on Sarah-“ You try and she immediately shuts you down, eyes now more angry then they are sad which makes you feel like you physically recoil at the change.

“No, y/n! You’re not making me into something I’m not, just because you’re gay doesn’t mean I have to be too!” She snaps, her words slicing through you violently as you feel a pit of shame curl up in your stomach “I experimented and now I know for sure now I’m not…whatever it is I thought I was.”

You know she’s building up to something so you close your eyes in anticipation for the blow she’s undoubtedly about to deliver.

“Besides, I’m with Topper now so...” You exhale as she says the words, as though she’d physically hit you in the stomach and winded you before you let out a light scoff.

You look to her, her eyes wide and defensive. You simply shake your head before opening the car door, “Topper,” You begin, letting out another scoff before you begin to step out of the car, “Good luck, babe.”

-

Four months after yours and Sarah’s conversation and while you haven’t heard from her, you have heard from Rafe. The Cameron man informing you that Topper and Sarah are having a very…turbulent relationship.

Rafe knows you were the one to end things with his sister, he and JJ being the only ones to actively know that something was going on between you and Sarah. With the exception of Ward who was left to guess what was plaguing his daughter’s thoughts over the last few months.

You feel a form of sympathy as the way everyone only refers to Sarah as ‘Toppers girl’ now. You know you shouldn’t be surprised at it, she never leaves his side and you realised it was her way of trying to prove to herself and to you that whatever feelings she had weren’t romantic.

You knew better and deep down so did she.

As you sit with your friends on the HMS Pogue, sailing across the water you catch sight of Topper’s boat when JJ starts geeking out over the model and price of it.

You also notice Sarah beside him, her face screaming out how unhappy she is without her even needing to say it.

And when your eyes meet hers, you see the unhappiness in her gaze. The facade she puts up and parades around under only extends to so many people and you are not one of them, you know Sarah so deeply and you also know that whatever she’s attempting to prove with Topper isn’t working for her.

And as your two boats come in line with one another, slowly passing, you mime toward the Cameron girl…words you hate to say but you do anyway,

“I told you so.”

[cultofdixon]

Just Breathe, Love. I’ve Gotcha

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Babies come unexpectedly. It’s one thing being alone…thank god he was there • ANGST/SFW/NSFW - Implied Sex • TW: Pregnancy & Birth / Anxiety / Illness / Nightmares / Mentions of Miscarriage & Other Pregnancy Scares

Requested by: Anon

Y/N stood anxiously outside the house she shared with Daryl as it was practically brand new after the rebuild of Alexandria. She still couldn’t believe she convinced him to live with her above the surface. Nothing wrong with the basement just that things were changing and they’ll need more space.

Daryl finished getting packed for their trip to The Kingdom to help them for a month, but as he approached his bike gesturing with his body language for Y/N to join him…she hesitated.

“Love, cmon. If we leave now we can make it before sunset”

“Uh I can’t get on your bike though”

“What?” Her saying that confused the man extremely. “You’ve ridden on my bike before, what’s stopping yea now?”

“Fuck uh” Just say it. Just say it. “It won’t be safe for me and the baby, Dar”

The silence grew until Daryl simply blinked at his partner before throwing his pack on and getting onto his bike driving off. Y/N frowns thinking he needed to get some air after that news but before she even turned around, Daryl turned his bike around bringing itself into the garage.

“Dar?” She frowns taking a few steps toward the garage when Daryl came running out dropping his pack on the way and instantly engulfing her in his arms.

Y/N instantly latched onto her partner hiding her face in his shoulder as she started to sob happily hearing Daryl go on and on about how excited this is going to be for them. They were finally safe from any and almost every harm the world can throw at them.

They were going to be alright

First Trimester

…Maybe

The longer you get to know Daryl, you start to pick up on some things he does. In this very moment Maggie noticed two when she thought the archer was simply coming to the Hilltop for the community trading. Daryl, just a little, stuck out his tongue when he was in deep focus looking around Maggie’s office in search for one of her pregnancy books and another thing he did was his tiny finger taps when he was anxious. He is a very secretive and normally good at camouflaging, going unnoticed.

But she wasn’t going to stand there long. Only making herself known when she figures out what Daryl is looking for. That the moment he reached for the pregnancy book in her bookshelf, Maggie stepped into the room entirely.

“Find what you’re looking for?” Maggie smiles watching Daryl drop the book quickly turning to her.

“Yeah”

“Are yea gonna pick it up and take it? Didn’t take you for a seahorse, Daryl” Maggie teased watching him pick it up giving her a look. “How come Y/N didn’t—“

“Nah stop right there” Daryl quickly shushed her. “She’s comin’ next week to tell yea herself and she will kill me if she learns you knew from me”

“Oh boy you already fucked up that’s why you’re saying such” She smiles fighting back a laugh and failing. “Who did yea tell?”

“Rick”

“Oh” Maggie gave him a surprised look that quickly morphed into confusion. “Why would she be mad at you for telling Rick? He’s your best friend, brother even”

“Nah it wasn’t cuz I told Rick. It was when we had JUST found out” Daryl went silent after such and it didn’t take Maggie much to connect the dots as she brought herself to lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Y/N is a very careful person. Your baby will make it and be absolutely perfect” She smiles at her friend before bringing him into her embrace feeling him tighten around her. “That baby is so so lucky to have you as a dad, Daryl. I can’t wait for you to experience it”

“Mags…”

“I don’t want to hear it. You’ve beaten yourself up about it enough and I know just saying that won’t make you instantly stop. But you’ve got to realize…we couldn’t have predicted what happen to have happened. Focus on the now Dixon” Maggie smiles parting from the man as he still hung his head low. “I won’t tell your partner that I know. But she better get her ass here soon so I can congratulate her”

Daryl returned back to Alexandria that night to find Y/N asleep on the couch after waiting a while for her man to come home. He set everything he was carrying down on the table as quietly as he could before approaching his girl and carefully picking her up. The action did cause her to stir just a bit but she didn’t care and brought her arms around his neck to secure her when he carried her upstairs.

“Long day?” She yawns out as he carefully places her on her side of the bed.

“A bit, sorry I was late” Daryl sat on the edge and took off his shoes as Y/N sat up enough to bring herself to lean against him until he was ready to climb into bed. “You gotta tell Maggie the news before it slips out of me” Which it already did.

“Mm. I have to go to get clippings from her for Alexandria’s gardens. Rick thinks we’ll have the water system done in about a month or two”

“You’re not allowed to overwork yourself, love” Daryl placed a kiss on her forehead before fully bringing himself to face her so he could kiss her completely.

Y/N wrapped her arms around him continuing to kiss her man as she brought herself to sit in his lap feeling his arms snake around her waist.

“What’s gotten into you, sunshine?” Daryl chuckles lightly to himself in between kisses feeling her get situated with her legs around his waist.

“Hormones.” Y/N giggles for a second before returning to her kissing. “You want me to stop?” She whispers only for Daryl to carefully bring her on her back onto the sheets as he towers her.

“No”

The next couple mornings were always spent sleeping in after the hours from the night before doing feeding into certain cravings.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, mamas” Daryl laughs kissing Y/N’s bare shoulder bringing himself to sit up watching his partner get up from their bed.

“Shouldn’t you be helping with the bridge plans this morning?” Y/N gave him a smile through the mirror above their dresser as she took one of his shirts slipping it on. “Instead of feeding my cravings” she continues to smile watching the archer get out of the bed shirtless in all his glory bringing himself behind her wrapping his arms around her.

“I’d always rather stay in bed with yea, than work” He chuckles kissing her temple. “‘Sides. We gotta tell Carol and Zeke the news”

“I’m still mad that you lied about not telling Mags. But thank you for getting the book…amongst other things” Y/N continued to smile as Daryl kisses her cheek before slipping away to get ready for the day leaving her alone for a moment.

Her smile faded when she opened the book to a part that talked heavily about complications. These “what to expect when you’re expecting books” have always been informative but Y/N never thought they’d be scary. Or feed into her fears.

It didn’t take long for Daryl to notice her sudden change in demeanor, especially on the drive to the Kingdom. He thought she was upset from their trip of 2 turning into five with Eugene, Rosita, and Rick tagging along. But she didn’t care about them joining and part of her didn’t talk about it with Daryl.

When they arrived, Y/N instantly got out of the car when she spotted Carol stepping out to greet them as Daryl tried to catch up but noticed his friend’s happy expression to the news falter only slightly until it went to warm reassurance when telling Y/N something. She soon pulled away from her to approach Daryl and hug the man.

“I’m gonna take your girl for a few hours.” Carol smiles still hugging Daryl as he instantly looked at Y/N for any sign that she was upset and all she gave was her usual smile that always struck him. “So don’t you dare come tracking us down.” She laughs pulling away from his embrace. “She’s in good hands, they both are”

Daryl trusted her, of course, but his worry still made him give his radio to Y/N knowing he’ll be with Rick when she’s gone and he always has one on him in case of emergencies.

“Be safe” He whispers kissing her cheek as she hums in response before going with Carol outside the Kingdom walls.

They soon found themselves seated behind a log after tracking down a small herd of deer as Y/N kept her eye on them with her hunting rifle in hand while Carol had her bow. She really kept her attention on her friend that glued her gaze on the buck.

What if something bad happens?

What if I get hurt and lose the baby?

What if I lose the baby?

Late term miscarriage?

Freak walker accident?

What if…

What if I die?

What if I die having the baby?

What if I need a c-section and it can’t be done?

What if—-

“It’s normal to be scared”

Her voice caught Y/N off guard in her thoughts as her emotions acted only by showing the tears form and roll off her cheeks. Carol frowns setting her bow down about to lay a hand to reassure her when a gunshot rang through and a thud echoed after.

The two were now looking at the buck Y/N had just shot down and as Y/N approached the down animal she noticed a deer and its baby run off.

I don’t want to leave Daryl and…fetus. I don’t want anything to happen to me Y/N sobbed and without any word from her end, Carol carefully brought her family into her arms holding her until she felt okay enough to go back.

Daryl wasn’t very helpful to the others when Y/N was gone. He honestly hope she had radio’d him so that he’d have an excuse to take off and find her. But she was okay when she came back. From what he gathered. When the two came back he offered to help prepare the meat but instead Carol brushed him off with a look to take care of his woman. Y/N didn’t say anything, didn’t even say anything to Carol, but he knew she just wanted him there in the moment.

Second Trimester

“I’ll be back in a week”

“I know. You still didn’t have to drop me off at the Hilltop like a daycare system”

“You get anxious alone in the house, sunshine. Rick and Michonne didn’t want you over because Judith is sick. Plus you’re helping Maggie with the garden layout designs.”

“Which you reminded me I couldn’t physical help with Hilltop’s” Y/N scoffs in a playful tone resulting in a smile Daryl wished to see from where he was at. Sadly the Sanctuary. “You’re missing out on a lot of movement…”

“She better calm the fuck down until I get there”

“Dead set on a girl?” Y/N smiles leaning against the headrest in the bed of the spare bedroom in the Barrington House, gently rubbing circles on her belly. “If that’s the case then, both your girls miss you.”

“I’ll be back to y’all soon”

“I love you, honey”

“I love you bee”

Y/N continued to smile holding the radio knowing she could continue the conversation with Daryl and he wouldn’t give a damn about his responsibilities at the Sanctuary just to continue for himself. He knew it was risky to take on the task of watching the shithole for a month, but both he and Y/N knew it was hard to say no to Rick. Though the biggest reason he said yes was knowing she wouldn’t give birth in the second trimester.

Shit can still happen but it doesn’t

Well, not literally.

Everything raced in Y/N’s mind as she watches Hershel Jr for an afternoon while Maggie gets a few things done for both her and her son, and the community she leads. Which included creating the farm plots outside the Hilltop walls as long as there were spikes protecting her home and the gardens.

“Your Uncle Daryl just loves seeing you, and I know he’s going to hog you when he arrives” Y/N smiles talking to Hershel Jr as he babbles while smiling up at his aunt. “You’re just…one happy little guy.” I miss Glenn she thought as she looked at his son feeling that awful anxiety return making her face contort to discomfort which the small child instantly took note of resulting in him mimicking her feelings. “No no no, I’m okay. You’re okay” she did her best at reassuring as she carefully picked Hershel up holding him protectively in her embrace quietly shushing his sobs.

A few hours passed and Maggie finally got a moment to herself as she plans to relieve Y/N of watching her son. But while she did expect Daryl to already be bothering his wife since he arrived an hour prior to her break, she was stopped by the archer.

“What are—-“

Daryl shushed Maggie quickly before showing that Y/N was asleep along with Hershel Jr happily laying on her enjoying the warmth she emitted. “Let’em sleep”

Maggie couldn’t agree more as she left him to admire the sight before she came back about an hour later for much needed baby time with her son.

When Y/N woke she noticed no baby and scrambled a bit too fast for her comfort resulting in her pause to hold her belly as Daryl instantly brought himself from the window to sit with her resting his hand over hers.

“Maggie got her son a bit ago. Didn’t wanna wake yea”

“You were supposed to wake me up when you got here” Y/N pouts only for her expression to instantly change to the bandage on Daryl’s thigh as she was instantly shushed by the man which was only going to make her angry.

“Nothin’ too serious just a bit of road rash”

“You spilled on your bike?!”

“Eh more like. Failed dismount” That rarely happens but one can imagine Daryl’s foot getting hooked onto his bike resulting in both him and the ride falling. Better than riding your bike and hitting a hole that sends you launching to your dea—-“Sunshine? You’re staring”

She really couldn’t help the tears that sprung on feeling Daryl’s calloused yet soft hands wipe them away when he noticed.

“I’m gonna be okay. Again, nothin’ serious” Daryl reassures, getting anxious when Y/N didn’t say another word on the matter but he knew she was thinking something. Her mind was never really one to be quiet. “Alright love, come here” he gestures for her to bring herself into his side leaning into him as he brought his arms around her, the hand in front of her instantly placing itself on her belly as she instantly brought her attention to such.

“She keeps kicking me in the ribs…but at least she’s positioned right”

“Good to know about the position…thing. But her kickin’ your ribs don’t sound comfortable”

“Want me to demonstrate?” Y/N jokes causing a small smile to break out when her man chuckled lightly to such before kissing her followed by a ‘no’. “Good. Shit sucks anyway”

Third Trimester

Daryl was already a hoverer. Now it was worse and a bit weirder. At least if you asked Y/N. She always found him somewhere in the room if he wasn’t right beside her and he’s really only hovering in case she “pops”. A word she now hates from what he uses it for.

“Siddiq is at the Hilltop. Should be back in the week in case you po—-“

“You have to stop saying that word. It’s weirding me out”

“Sorry” Daryl frowns watching Y/N struggle to get her shoes on and every time he tried to help, she would swat him away. Only frustrating the man who wants to take care of his pregnant wife.

The usual sigh of defeat is his indicator for him to go ahead and help.

“Do we have any pickles left?” Y/N asks with a pleading pout watching her man’s face change with his thoughts as he tied her shoes. “Or that jam Jerry made with his wife?”

“If this is another weird food combination, don’t make me try it” Daryl scoffs playfully but when he locked eyes with her she started tearing up and it was an instant shot through the heart. “No no please I’m sorry. I’ll try it if yea want me to”

“Yeah?” Her voice cracked watching him nod listening to him reassure her even if her mind was currently a pregnancy fogged mess.

While Daryl got up to get her her craving, Y/N felt that wave of anxiety, but with pain this time.

“Ouch” Y/N winced holding her belly and checking her watch that wasn’t totally rendered useless in the apocalypse where one can barely tell the time. It worked well for timing—-“Contractions?” She whispered to herself feeling the pain come suddenly the second time around. “Fuck.”

The archer didn’t come back immediately because her first “ow” followed by a few others, he didn’t hesitate to radio Siddiq or anybody in his vicinity to get him on. Once he was instructed on what to do while the doc makes his way over, Daryl stepped into the living room finding Y/N flinging her shoes off with a bit of struggle as she gripped her stomach.

“We gotta get you ready”

“Fuck off” She whined. “What the fuck do you think I’m doing” she cries when another painful contraction hit, making Daryl come to her side trying to help her up hoping their bed would make it more comfortable. But she immediately fought him making her cry more when she thought she had hit him too hard.

“Y/N. I’m gonna carry you”

“You’re gonna drop me”

“I’m not”

“But I’m fucking HUGE and in PAIN. You’re only going to irritate me”

“Well that ain’t new. You used to push me off the bed” Daryl scoffs not caring anymore about the love taps he was receiving when picking up his partner.

“Because you are a human heater! But then I’d start sobbing” She states, already doing so as she held onto Daryl when he carried her. He debated taking her to the infirmary instead but she’s fighting him just from moving her from the couch to the bed. It would’ve been worse going from the house to the infirmary.

“I’ve gotcha, love”

“You’re gonna drop me”

“Do you want me to drop you?”

“No!”

“Then I’m not” Daryl tried to fight back his laughter when he finally got her to bed, adding his pillow with her several ones to have her sit up. “I gotta radio Siddiq see where he’s at”

“Please don’t leave me” Y/N sobbed holding onto his arm as she curls up a bit when another contraction struck. Daryl held her arm feeling her nails dig into his as it only made his anxiety worse, imagining what hers was.

“I ain’t going anywhere love” Daryl reassures as he had his radio on him.

The entire time Daryl was on the radio trying to get an ETA on Siddiq, Y/N laid there uncomfortable as the tears build up thinking the worse possible things that could happen without a doctor or at least someone who’s delivered babies being there. She loosened her grip when he started to pull away only to get the things needed that Siddiq was telling him from the other side.

“Siddiq is close and he’ll come straight here” Daryl states setting towels down on the side of the bed by her feet. “Yea need anything? Y/N?” He frowns watching her hold her belly protectively. “Hey? Love—-“

“It’s gonna hurt…I-It’s already hurting but once she’s—-“

“Yeah but once she’s out then it’ll get—-“

“Oh it won’t be the same. It won’t be the same” Y/N started to laugh nervously concerning Daryl a bit given she was still crying and her contractions were getting closer. “What if I tear?!”

“Stitches”

“What if I bleed too much and—-“

“We’ve talked about that but not in the sense of this” He gestures to the situation. “We have solutions to these problems”

“Not if I die!” Y/N snaps suddenly and before Daryl could even reassure that anxiety, Siddiq knocked on the door making himself present along with other supplies needed.

It was about time and Y/N wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready this entire pregnancy because of everything that could go wrong and how much pain it’s going to become. Her grip on Daryl worsened, at this point he thought she was going to break his arm.

“You have to push on the next contraction, Y/N. Okay?” Siddiq’s words just went straight through her head, all she felt was the pain and Daryl’s hand squeezing hers. Which led to—-

“I-I can’t…” She sobbed to Daryl as he gently brushed away the hair sticking to her face. “It’s hurting and it’s getting worse. What if—-“

“Hey…just breathe, love” Daryl reassures bringing his free arm around her shoulders looking only at her as if it was only them in the room. “Breathe with me, alright?” And so she did while squeezing his hand every breath that was difficult to fulfill. “You’ve got this, sunshine. Just a few more then a lifetime with our girl”

Oh how the pain was all worth it in the end, and the anxiety simply slipped away…

The soft cries filled the room and both of their eyes were drawn to the little girl being held up wrapped in a towel. Y/N started to sob as Daryl pulled away for just a moment to cut the cord before being handed their daughter. He was already teary-eyed but now the archer was sobbing when he held their daughter and finally handed her to her mother.

Just breathe Y/N smiles through tear filled eyes at their little girl. Oh this beautiful little girl she held her close gently placing a kiss to her forehead.

“You did perfect, mamas” Daryl kisses Y/N’s forehead feeling him bring himself back to holding his partner as she held their little one.

“Thank you…”

“For?”

“For helping me bring this beautiful little girl to the world”

[evlia]

Nsfw buck x bucky

Hear me out, Buck who has practically no experience in sex, starting to learn things about himself when he starts “dating” Bucky. Buck learning things about his own body, what he likes, what makes him whine and moan and what makes him shudder in need. Bucky taking his time exploring his body and teaching him about his sensitive spots, coaxing sweet moans out of his mouth and teaching him how to be more vocal, more open and honest about what he needs, what he wants.

Bucky looking at him with a soft, satisfied smile when Buck whines his name and says “Bucky, please…”. Bucky groaning when usually calm and collected Buck starts swearing under his breath, when usually quiet and reserved Buck starts moaning all wanton and desperate.

Every time they have sex Buck learns something new about himself, about sex and about Bucky. One of those things that he apparently likes/loves is hard for him to admit even to himself.

First time Bucky accidentally finishes on his body, Gale grimaces in disgust. “Jesus, John, what the…” Buck grabs the nearest piece of clothing and starts wiping down his torso. Bucky laughs, a bit ashamed, but Buck knows he’s anything but. But later, when Bucky is already sleeping, Gale can’t fall asleep.

He keeps repeating the image of Bucky coming on his abs and chest in his head and feels himself shuddering. If he focuses enough, he can recall the feelings of spurts of cum landing on his skin, he can remember Bucky’s face, twisted in pleasure and then his eyes darkening even more when he saw Buck’s torso covered in his cum.

It felt like Bucky was claiming him in a way he could. As much as they wanted to they couldn’t leave marks on each other, maybe somewhere hidden, like his inner thighs but they could never be bold with it. And to feel Bucky’s release on his skin somehow made him feel like he was owned by him, belonged to him, only Bucky’s to ruin and corrupt.

Next time they managed to find a time and place to have each other, Gale was nervous, he wanted to somehow bring it up but couldn’t, didn’t know how. He was unusually tense and his mind kept racing and Bucky noticed, of course he did, because Gale was sure that Bucky knew his body better than he did.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.. just.. I’m good”

Bucky looked at him concerned for a second but then decided to continue trailing kisses down his body and Gale was relieved that Bucky hid himself between his thighs and couldn’t see Buck’s face. As Becky’s skillful mouth brought him closer and closer to the edge, Gale became restless, he wanted to come, of course he did, but he wanted something else more.

“John.. I..” Bucky looked up at him from between his legs and the sight of his lips stretched around his cock left him speechless, he couldn’t say a thing, couldn’t voice what he was craving. His silence prompted Bucky to release him and crawl up his body, leaving wet kisses on the way

“What is it Buck? Tell me what you need”

“I…”

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t get shy on me now, tell me what you need”

“Bucky.. I need you to…”

“You need me to fuck you Buck? Tell me, you want me inside of you?”

That was close to what Gale needed, very close

“Yeah”

After few minutes of preparation Buck finally could feel John inside of him and he sighed in relief, the feeling of his length twitching, his movements deep and hard, almost bruising and he was getting close so fast but he wanted to feel Bucky coming inside him first, or him to pull out and cum on his chest again, he couldn’t decide but he wanted to ask him to mark him, he just couldn’t find words, couldn’t voice his needs.

“Fuck, Buck, you’re so good, made just for me”

Gale moaned loudly at that, Bucky’s choice of words strengthening his desires.

“John I.. I need..”

“What is it baby? What do you need?”

Gale was so close, so high with pleasure that he somehow managed to forget his embarrassment

“Need you to come inside me”

“F..fuck, Buck”

“Need you to mark me with your cum”

Bucky’s hips stuttered, losing his rhythm, something between a moan and groan coming from his mouth.

“Please, Bucky, give it to me”

It’s more than enough to make Bucky reach his release, groaning against his neck, a breathless “god, Buck” leaving his lips and when Gale feels his release inside him he comes too and it’s the most intense orgasm he has ever had.

It takes minutes for them to catch their breath, to calm their racing hearts and when Bucky tries to pull out, Buck stops him.

“Stay”

Bucky groans again and his cock twitches pathetically at that. They fall asleep like that, bodies still tangled together and when they wake up and go for another round Buck asks him to cum inside him again, says that he wants to feel full of him and Bucky might be close to dying because his poor heart and dick can’t take it. Next time Buck asks him to release on his chest, his abs, his back or thighs and it becomes a thing, Bucky marking him in the most twisted way, marking him as his.

[writingmeraki]

hazy eyes, clear thoughts I

a roronoa zoro imagine !

synopsis : in which letting your drunken mouth spill your sober thoughts leads you to a very unexpected consequence. ( read: everyone saw it coming except you and **** )

pairing : opla!zoro x gn!reader, idiots to lovers!

genre : disgustingly fluffy fluff, five tablespoons of angst and probable romance.

warnings : cussing, mentions of alcohol and getting wasted, zoro kinda mean, probably terrible humour, shit ton of giggling, also very all over the place but kinda cute? not entirely proofread, also lmk if I forgot to add any other warning !

author's note : well oh well, look we have another totally not self indulgent zoro oneshot/drabble/imagine n e ways I hit a sort of weird point of the series, I'm stuck but i am like 87% done with ch 1?? i hope I'll be able to do it soon enough ^^ tysm for ur patience !! let me know what you think of this! also PART 2?!? ( I need to know if people wanna read this randomness further 😆😅🤣👍🏽)

word count : 4.8k

gif creds !

 “Oh-kay! I think that’s enough!”

You frowned when Nami took the drink from your hand, whining in protest when she kept it further away which she knew your drunken self would be unable to reach.

“B-but it’s good, it’s making me happy!” You giggled as you pointed at yourself and then pouted, pulling your manipulative tactic, one you did a lot when you wanted something especially one you did when you were shit-face drunk. 

With large doey eyes, you pleaded at her, “You don’t want me to be sad right? I’ll be sad if you don’t give me- that.” You pointed in a direction you thought she placed the beer but of course, it was way off.

“See, you can’t even make out where I’ve placed the beer! I don’t care if it makes you upset and honestly, it was fun to see you make a fool out of yourself, but now it’s just…sad.” She sighed, a tone of sympathy as she finished her sentence,

“I know why you’re drinking and it’s not a good way to distract yourself from your feelings! Drinking worsens the problem!” She scolded you to which you now felt a small anger form within you.

“Well then, how else am I supposed to get rid of this dread and just stupidity huh? Being sober is a constant reminder!” 

“Your feelings aren’t stupid! You like him, I’d say even love! You can’t just assume your feelings are invalid not until you know how the other person feels!” Your best friend felt a rage you’d feel if you saw someone you care about demean their feelings, a sort of anger at them hidden with laces of sympathy.

“He doesn’t fucking care! He only cares about his promises and that’s…that’s his life, his own…way of living so it’s fine!”

“Feelings to him are just…distractions.” You gulped as you recalled the way he replied to Luffy when the Captain was teasing him about falling in love. 

[ a few moments ago ]

“Zoro, don’t you think you should consider finding a partner, don’t you also want to fall in love and experience all the magical things that come with it?” Luffy teased as you all sat around a barrel, deciding to just hang out after a busy day. 

Zoro had a beer in one hand as he took a sip and then rolled his eyes, you’d been seeing his reaction, undoubtedly your heart picking up its pace when you heard the question. 

“I don’t need love, or call it a partner if you will. I already have enough on my plate, all that so-called magical stuff is just a distraction.” He replied, with no hesitation which left no option but for the listeners to believe his words.

Just because he’d spoken his opinion, it didn’t mean it hurt less. You knew it though, from the start that Zoro was a determined individual. Despite having his own goals, he also cared about others like Luffy even though he didn't show it much, less that he said it verbally.

It was what made you like him in the first place. After all, what’s more, better than a man who knows what he wants, is determined to get what he wants, cares for those he considers his friends, and the bonus cherry on top being he was quite easy on the eyes too. 

A whole package indeed. 

And you didn’t even know when your supposed “I admire him as a person to look up to” turned into “Oh, I think I am in love with him.” 

But ah, that’s the beauty of love and all the magical stuff, isn’t it? You never know when you’ll be the one who finally falls into it.

That’s why, after hearing his words, you felt your heart sink just a little. Screw it, you think you felt it weigh a shit ton and sink to the very pit of your stomach. 

Nami, oh Nami, what a friend she was truly, because immediately her eyes darted to you after Zoro’s words and she saw your expression go down just as quickly as Zoro downed his bottle of beer. 

Luffy chuckled, of course, he would, the poor lad was just teasing in the first place anyway to irk Zoro and obviously, he didn’t know about poor old you’s feelings. 

I think I need to go. 

It sucked how you couldn’t refute against him. How you couldn’t yell that love is not just a “distraction”, love is something that makes one feel more…human. Love is a wonderful thing and how if someone were to experience it, it makes you feel….it makes you feel just happy at being in the presence of the one you, love. Just…love is not…it’s not-

“Uh guys,” You piped up after sensing the tense atmosphere, tense to you anyway since you felt like a seashell was clogged up your throat. 

“I’m gonna go…get some fresh air. Yeah uh- I’ll be behind if you need me.” You abruptly got up, smiling tightly at Luffy, purposefully avoiding Nami’s questioning yet pitiful look and harshly blatantly ignoring how Zoro’s attention turned towards you, about to question you too, his face showing the emotions he’d not show before 5 bottles of beer. 

Sighing quietly, you picked up the drink you’d been downing, still having an adequate portion in it and you thought about it, saying fuck it as you grabbed two more from the stack that was in the middle.

“Continue with…your shenanigans,” You turned around and let your emotions finally show on your face, words repeatedly swinging in your head as you tried to filter them out. 

It’s nothing but a distraction.

And now, a few bottles (2) and a whole lot of giggling later, you may have truly begun to take Zoro’s words seriously. 

“I feel sick, perhaps it’s my heart breaking, see it hurts here the most.” You groaned as you looked out into the sea, pointing to your chest, though inaccurate as you held your right side, the sun appearing as a blurry blight light due to your vision becoming hazier as you got more drunk.

Nami sighed at you, realizing you should probably just be made to go to bed, despite it being only a few hours away from actual nightfall.

“Come on, let’s go, you’ve thought enough,” She stood up, having been sitting beside you on a barrel while you’d been sitting on the same.

She pushed her hand outwards towards you, to which you giggled and you were pretty sure your cheeks ached now. 

“Namii~how do you have-” you pointed your finger out, counting the fingers “-ten fingers! On one hand?!” You continued staring at her hand in awe as she rolled her eyes, a small grin on her face, finding your drunken self a tiny bit cute. 

Suddenly you felt your world stumble as she grabbed you and pulled you upwards, you now decided you did not know how to walk and leaned your entire body weight on her. 

Now, Nami wasn’t a weak person but considering how you were more on the taller side than her while also being a bit more buff due to the immense training you did every day to practice your own skills, you did weigh more.

She quickly made you sit back down when she realized she couldn't possibly carry you, she needed help.

"Stay here 'kay? I'll be back." She told you to which you obediently nodded, which made a genuine grin form on her face.

Maybe she did prefer drunk you who'd follow her orders with no protests.

You looked back at the sea, the sun even lower than before, a type of golden shining on the blues that reminded you of a certain someone's earrings and oh, there it was.

Your thoughts slowly getting consumed by the moss head who despite drinking so much to forget was so embedded deep into your memory and probably heart at this point that even the slightest similarity you saw, be it colors or flowers, reminded you of him. 

Ah, that's love and all its magical stuff am I right? 

Sighing, she made her way back to where the rest of them were, the crew picking up on her presence,

"Where's Y/N? Weren't you bringing them?" 

"Well, for one they are SHIT face drunk, I don't think they are even conscious of where they are right now so I'll need to take them to bed but also, I can't carry them alone." 

She rolled her eyes at the stupidity of drowning yourself in your feelings, quite literally but she knew she wouldn't complain to the rest of them or more so she couldn't.

"Well I'm sure, one of us can help-"

"I'll help you carry them." Zoro interrupted your captain who was just about to suggest him. If there was one who could probably carry anything heavy too, it was him of course. 

Nami eyed him curiously, she did know he wasn't ready to do…kind deeds, not unless it helped him in some way. Though, she thinks, you may just be an exception.

He stood up and walked towards where you were, which was at the back, Nami followed suit to which he turned towards her.

"It's alright if you don't come, I'm pretty sure I'll be able to carry them myself." He said it and Nami narrowed her eyes, half out of suspicion and half out of spite after hearing the cocky undertone to his words. 

Proving that was one corner of his lips being turned upwards, forming an annoyingly handsome smirk that if you saw it, you'd probably be more on the brink of absolutely losing it.

"Take care of them and if they are hurt-" Zoro rolled his eyes at the over-exaggeration, and Nami knew that but as your best friend and a platonic soulmate at this point, she felt she had to say something. 

"I don't mean it that way, you know damn well what I mean." She told firmly, to which a slight confusion did flash in Zoro's eyes but he didn't make it obvious as he glared at her, ready to bicker.

"Nami!" Luckily, Luffy's timing seemed impeccable as he called her, to which she turned around, allowing no further talk.

Zoro just brushed off her words and moved to where you were.

Despite, Zoro admitting to never wanting a partner, it didn't mean though, that he didn't feel. 

He cared. He cared enough for Luffy to stick with him. He cared enough to fulfill a promise. 

And he cared for you too as he saw you sleeping soundly, laying your head on the ship, using your hands as a makeshift pillow. 

And yet, he somehow knew it was different. It was different from how he cared for others. 

He gulped as he moved closer, now being able to see your features being highlighted by the afterglow of the sun setting. 

It was as though you were the sun's favorite child at the moment, touching parts of your face softly, careful enough to not awaken you yet enough to rest on it to make it golden. 

The evening breeze couldn't have picked a better time to pass as strands of your hair messily moved, your face scrunching up in disturbance. 

He didn't even perceive how he'd reached you and was actually touching strands of your hair to push them back in place so as to not disturb your sleep. 

He wasn't even a gentle person, but he was using soft fingers with even softer touches to push them back. 

He figured he should in fact take you back to your bed, well shared bed with Nami. 

Deciding there was no need to wake you up, he moved beside you, putting one arm underneath your knees while the other looped just above your waist and below your chest. 

You blinked open your eyes when you felt yourself floating, it seemed like you were floating for a brief second, engulfed by warm clouds and a nice pillow that was-

You looked up and saw the side profile of someone. 

They seemed familiar. 

A glint of gold caught your eye as you put your left arm up and poked the earring, giggling as you saw it move.

"Wow, pretty," You think you'd seen it but your eyes being hazier than before after your mini nap seemed to only make your vision more blurry.

The sudden exhale and whisper down his neck almost made Zoro trip as he didn't really expect you to be up.

He was just near your shared room.

"Where are you taking me? Who are you?" You asked the important questions now, your mushed brain being able to form somewhat coherent thoughts. 

"You- you don't know who I am?" He asked you, confusion in his features and then remembering why you were lost. 

Right, practically wasted. And apparently memory loss due to being wasted.

He pushed the door open, as flimsy as it was, careful to not eventually break it down.

You looked around your surroundings, now even more lost as to where you actually were.

You squealed as he let you down, immediately realizing it was a terrible idea when you almost toppled over, unable to hold your own weight as he pushed his arm around your waist.

You held onto the man's shirt as you tried not to trip and fall.

"Here I'll just- I'll get you to bed." He guided you towards your bed, hand still wrapped around your waist as he looped yours over his neck. 

You plopped down with your eyes shut, your head began spinning when you almost tripped and you groaned in regret.

"Drinking too much was such a bad idea, like all my decisions lately." You put your hand on your forehead as you tried to rub the forming headache away. 

Hearing a walking sound, you peered your eyes open. Half-open anyways as you still couldn't make out well anything.

You could see the supposed stranger who'd help you till your bed was going to turn around and likely go but at that moment, you decided you didn't really want to be…alone.

Grabbing his hand before he moved away, you pulled him back with all your force. It didn't phase his movements much though other than him halting. 

Zoro turned back to you after deciding he should probably leave before he either said something he'd regret or worse, did something he'd regret. 

It wasn't his fault though with how…cute you looked as you plopped down, making him want to ki-

"Stay…please." You whispered to him, still holding onto his wrist as you blinked at him.

A familiar green color sat on top of his head but you figured it was a common color despite being sober you absolutely made fun of it when you could about how uncommon it was but also whined about how unfairly good it looked on him. 

The same him who looked at you in confusion and disbelief,

"You want me to stay, right now? With you?"

“Of course! I feel quite alone right now, maybe the company will make me feel better here.” You let go of his arm, the loss of your colder hand in contrast to his warm skin making him slightly frown. 

You pointed at your chest, surprisingly getting it right this time by pointing toward your left side.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “Does your chest hurt or something?” 

There was a slight concern in his tone, one which made you giggle. 

“Not- not physically silly, it’s- it’s my heart, it feels like it’s been gutted- wait no too- too gruesome, it feels like someone just punched it and it broke.” As you blubbered about your heartbroken state, your words made him more curious and concerned.

He decided he should probably hear you out, after all despite not being a great talker, he’d consider himself a decent listener. 

Grabbing the barrel you used as a chair placed under your makeshift desk, he moved to sit beside your bed. 

“It’s ridiculous. I should have known there was no chance, but it isn’t like you get a choice sometimes on how you should feel about someone, it just…happens.” You spoke softly, as Zoro turned his attention toward you, wondering who was this person who’d caused you to feel so…sad. 

He didn’t realize it but he felt a slow anger build up, one he excused as frustration due to your mumbling but not one out of simply, probably, jealousy.

Yes, he was jealous of….this person because it sure as hell seemed as though you were deeply in love to have been feeling like this. 

Ironic.

“Why do I even like him?” Oh, he definitely did not want to hear you talk about him, he decided.

Screw being a good listener, he was already in a crisis when Luffy put him on the spot asking about whether he’d want a lover or not, and then him trying his best not to divert his gaze towards you, so instead he chose an option ( one he’d regret later on ) and gave a seemingly believable answer. 

Maybe a while ago, he’d have stuck to that answer, and actually no, he was sticking to it, quite well too.

That was until you stumbled onto the crew or more like in true Luffy fashion, were persuaded enough to stay. 

At first, he didn’t care enough. It was more so he didn’t particularly like you too. You were what he was not. Careless, overly enthusiastic at times, and way too optimistic for your own good. You looked to see the good in everyone, believing that there was always some sort of goodness in everyone.

Zoro found that stupid, knowing how reality was always different. Everyone is and will always be selfish for their own greed. He was too, he wanted to fulfill his promise and that was it. 

That was his goal and nothing else really mattered to him.

It’s what he thought would remain the same till he accomplished it but a sudden diversion came in the form of well…you.

He didn’t even realize it but the annoyance he’d get when he heard your lame jokes turned into him looking away from your silly smile to try and hide his own forming grin.

How he’d always automatically be looking for you if they’d stop at an island, choosing to follow you and dismissing Nami’s suspicious glances by saying you’d likely do something stupid that might put everyone in danger if left alone.

It was funny what this could make anyone feel. He didn’t ever feel like this, he didn’t even want to admit he was close to feeling but how long could a person remain in denial?

He was in love with you. 

He couldn’t simply excuse his heart racing at your presence as simply annoyance, he couldn’t excuse finding pretty flowers and them reminding him of you as well….yeah you get the point. 

That revelation honestly made him spiral into a sort of existential crisis. 

So he decided it was best to do one thing.

Ignore it. Ignore everything and simply wait until it all fades away. 

But silly him, he didn’t know one thing about love and he assumed it was something that fades away, yet there it was, in his gaze as it softened and in his heart as it sunk slowly like an anchor. 

Clogging his throat as if he couldn’t simply breathe when you admitted to being in love with someone, someone who wasn’t him.

Ah love and its magical stuff, yet why does he feel like it's more of a curse right now? 

He opened his mouth, and closed it again, resembling a fish and it felt like he wanted to say everything yet nothing.

They probably don’t deserve you. 

The thought resonated in his head, but really who was he to say so because did someone like you even deserve him?

Turning to face him completely, ducking your hand under your head, you blinked at him slowly, a grin forming on your face as you saw the stranger’s hair.

“You…you remind me of him, your hair, it’s that ugly color.” You softly giggled to which Zoro was left in yet a contradiction of emotions, whether or not he should feel offended or light over the sound of your soft giggles. 

Wait. 

“Come closer, I’ll tell you a secret.” He blinked at you, trying not to show any emotions and wondering if you’d ever even talk to him like this sober.

Deciding to follow what you said, something he’d never do if you were sober, he leaned in, putting one arm as support to hold him due to the slightly uncomfortable position. 

“I- don’t laugh at me first of all, it’s ridiculous, Nami says I’m being too much of a coward not saying it upfront.” You looked at him to which he nodded, in your mind you presumed it was reassurance and agreeing to not find you ridiculous.

Somehow, despite you not knowing who was in front of you, your heart was picking up in pace and you felt a slight nervousness, actually, you almost felt like throwing up.

As if you were just about to actually…

“I think, actually no, I am definitely in love with Zoro.”

…confess to Zoro. 

Good thing, Zoro had quick reflexes because he felt his arm slip and if it weren’t for those quick reflexes, he’d have fallen face-first into the ground. He sat up straighter as if what he heard had physically burned him. 

“It sounds ridiculous, falling in love with someone like him but he’s actually a very loveable person, at least once he begins to get more…more comfortable around you. He talks less, shows emotions or any reactions even less, always carrying around a bitch face- Nami says so- but-but he also cares through his actions like-like that one time he found Luffy’s straw hat when he thought he lost- he spent hours helping him look for it and trying to keep Luffy from crying and then, then this other time he stayed up all night when I got hurt and wasn’t able to sleep. And-and there’s sooo many other times he’s done, the small things, he cares for that.”

“You know. I think that was when I knew I loved him.  When he didn’t need to stay up, yet he did to make sure I didn’t die or something.” You finished with a soft giggle as memories of that day flashed in front of your closed eyes. 

Suddenly he felt way warmer than the room was. 

“I know, I know you’ll…you’ll call me stupid for loving someone who’s already in fact rejected me, not-not to my face of course but indirectly I suppose.”

Wait, what?

Rejected you?

How could he do that when- when he didn’t-

“I hate this! I hate the way I feel, it- it’s making me feel pathetic.” Your words slurred as you whined, using your makeshift pillow to groan into.

“Who said love is magical? It’s pathetic! It makes you stupid enough to have stupid hopes that only make you fly high until suddenly the actual reality crashes you down hard.” You spoke somberly, your words slowly fading out as you gave into the alcohol-induced sleep.

“Love is…pathetic. But- but I love him. So much. I love…you.” The last word came out as a hush as you exhaled, shutting your eyes and letting go of the pillow as you finally got knocked out. 

It pained him to see you call yourself pathetic…all while being the reason you felt that way. 

Zoro was conflicted. The contradiction of emotions making him all do,

Nothing. 

He was frozen. He couldn't say a word, couldn't raise his hand to rub your back to perhaps comfort you. 

His mind was in more chaos, your words replaying like a loop. 

And finally, he came to a conclusion.

I need a drink. Fuck, maybe even three. 

Perhaps if you were awake, it’d be a different reaction. Perhaps if you weren’t drunk, you’d have not said it. 

The idea of you then getting over him, probably because you’d think he rejected you indirectly due to his words. This left a more bitter aftertaste in his mouth and mind than the beer he just downed.

He left your side, deciding he needed a breather to process what he’d just been told. He made sure you’d be in a comfortable position, placing your arms to your sides and even draped a sad excuse of a blanket, one that you brought yourself of an old woman when you had stopped at an island and one you loved, sad excuse because it was very thin but apparently you couldn’t sleep without it. 

He had turned back to you, one more time, about to say something but he just sighed and turned around, walking away to where he was now. 

Now, almost halfway through the crate of beers, he still couldn’t get rid of the confusion. 

Did- did you mean it?

It was conflicting because for one you said it under the influence, maybe you’d even meant someone else and just said his name by mistake. He hated that, so he chose to focus on you saying it solely for him. 

“Why-just why are you trying to die of alcohol poisoning? What is up with you idiots drinking like maniacs today?” A voice said in both disgust and concern as she walked up beside him, facing the sea, and then looking at him, the concern being evident as she saw the conflict of emotions on his face.

She knew he wasn’t one to speak up, it was rather his body language and eyes that spoke what he felt. 

He just sighed, taking a smaller sip of the drink, placing both arms on the side of the ship, and observing the waves.

Nami truly wondered what could have happened until she realized. 

“Did something happen with Y/N?” She cooly asked, observing his expression and surely enough a change of emotion was seen with the way he suddenly stiffened up.

“Nothing remarkable–”

“Oh cut the crap Zoro, you look like someone stole your fucking swords and threw them into the sea.” 

Now he turned towards her, a slight look of horror while he narrowed his eyes at her,

“That’s oddly specific.”

“Won’t deny anything. But, don’t change the topic.”

“They told’ you something?” She figured she should just straight up ask it, put it out in the blue, out of the bad.

Zoro contemplated whether he should spill it, feeling like maybe it would be invading your privacy but even if he didn’t want to admit it, he needed some sort of advice. 

“They- uh told me they lo- well see-” He shifted his attention back to the sea, finding it hard to say it to her face without giving away much. 

Technically you confessed but also you didn’t? You ranted about being in love with Zoro and how you wished you didn’t, you did that thinking you were spilling it to a stranger but it was the man himself so is that a confession? 

“So they finally did it?” He turned towards her raising his eyebrows in question, “They confessed?” 

Now he was surprised but how accurate she was, “ They are too coward- no offense- to do it while sober so ‘figured from the way you look like” She pointed towards his face with her finger “They either kissed you, which doesn’t seem evident from your face not being smothered with lipgloss, they confessed.” 

He gulped from his active imagination flashing a picture of you kissing him and how-

“But why are you so freaked out then? Shouldn’t you be happy your silly little crush is mutual?”

“It wasn’t a confession. More like a rant, they thought I was someone else and they basically spewed it all, and wait what do you mean mutual- I don’t uh-”

“Oh don't give that bullshit now. I know- in fact, even a blind person could see how in love you are with them.” 

Zoro didn’t know whether to get offended or embarrassed if it were really that obvious. He exhaled heavily, clearly not satisfied with the situation still. 

“What if they don’t even remember? What if they begin to ignore me because they think I don’t like them?” 

“Well you did say you weren’t looking for a partner or so on, did you forget that idiot?” Nami shook her head as she rolled her eyes at him.

“I-well- It wasn’t intentional! I panicked!”

“And now this is your consequence. Though there’s a simple solution to this crisis which isn’t a crisis actually, it’s pretty straightforward.”

Now he was curious, a way to solve this whole catastrophe? 

“Since you think they’ll forget by morning, how about you confront them then?”

“In the morning, you clear out your feelings before you dumbasses end up avoiding each other to purposefully brush this aside and I swear! I swear if it gets awkward because you both won’t look past your egos, I’ll force you into the damn cabin and lock you there to talk.”

Nam smiled sweetly, yet a threat underlined beneath her final words and Zoro thought of the only thing he should do now.

“Fine then.”

“I’ll talk. I’ll…confess to everything.”

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri.do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2023

feedback is always appreciated 💗

links : main navi ! | misc masterlist !

[roseofthewind]

Furina and High-Masking Autism

A lot of people don’t know how to recognize high-masking autism because its presentation challenges many stereotypes about what autistic people are like, but Furina continues to be a perfect example of it.

It should go without saying, but I love Furina as a character and this analysis is in no way putting her down. Autism is an entirely neutral trait that carries through to adulthood, and if you have a strong negative reaction to the idea of a character you like being autistic, you have probably absorbed a lot of misconceptions about autism and have some unconscious prejudice to unpack.

In the paragraphs that follow, I am going to explain several autistic traits and give examples of how Furina displays each trait.

*thinking face on*

1. Autism is, at its core, a difference in the way the brain takes in, processes, and shares information. This can make it challenging to communicate with other people who don’t share this neurotype, but a high-masking autistic person has observed the way other people interact and spent years copying them, figuring out through trial and error how to act to best fit in and get the most positive responses from other people.

Furina’s ascension speech in Act V of the Fontaine Archon Quest, where she first presents herself to the people of Fontaine, is a great example of this observation of others with the goal of masking as well as possible. Furina initially gives the speech as comes naturally to her in a very straightforward and honest manner (also an autistic trait!). After the speech, she realizes that her citizens are responding with hostility to her humility and lack of authoritarianism, so she then plays off the original speech as a ruse and immediately redoes the entire thing more assertively according to the feedback she picked up on.

(Calm down, Furina… Think. Think. What do the people want? How would they imagine a god to speak and act?)

Fontaine AQ Act V, Chinese audio: (link starts video at 3:10:07) https://youtu.be/T-AbXi5bufk?si=eQADAWw6n8Sk0PZE&t=11407

This is the kind of social trial and error that many autistic people do over the course of years so that eventually we can say the “right thing” the first time around, and it’s a testimony to Furina’s skills as an actor that she course-corrects so quickly.

Because of all the constant mental calculations, social situations are usually very tiring for autistic people, even when the social event lines up with their interests. In Clorinde’s Story Quest, Furina has no interest in Navia’s suggestion of pulling an all-nighter to keep playing D&D (I mean, Tabletop Troupe!) and wants to go home and rest.

Furina: Huh!? Oh, um… I’m not sure I’ll have enough energy for that…

Furina has shown other signs of needing to take a break from socializing– for instance, in Lynette’s hangout event quest, Lynette gets tired of all the people at her post-performance reception and goes upstairs to a quieter room to find Furina already there.

Furina offers to give Lynette tips on the best ways to slip away from an event, and Lynette misunderstands at first and isn’t interested in Furina’s advice because she thinks Furina loves everything about the spotlight and doesn’t realize how much they have in common. This goes a long way to show just how well Furina masks her autistic traits!

Furina: I see you’ve escaped the crowds to seek refuge on the second floor. Fame can be overwhelming at first, can’t it? Perhaps you’d benefit from hearing about the experiences of a veteran celebrity such as myself?

Lynette: No thanks, I’m good. Pretty sure this’ll be my first and last time in this situation…

Furina: Hey, at least let me finish! I have top tips on dealing with belligerent reporters, slipping away to hunt down snacks during the intermission…

Lynette: …Tell me everything.

Conversely, when alone, Furina will stay up late reading or doing something else that interests her and will not feel the same need to stop and rest, because when alone, there is no need to expend extra energy worrying about socializing properly.

At the beginning of the Fontinalia Film Festival limited event story, Traveler and Paimon go to Furina’s apartment and she answers the door sounding a bit groggy.

Paimon: Did you just get up, Furina? It’s already past noon, you know…

After Traveler chastises Paimon for being rude, Paimon panics and says something nonsensical about how the weather is so nice in the afternoon and sleeping in is fine, actually, and Furina responds that she’s just a bit tired because she was up late reading:

Furina: I was just up late last night reading some novels…

When focused on an interest, it’s very easy for an autistic person to lose track of time and it can be difficult to break out of the focused state and go to bed. (This is a trait that overlaps significantly with ADHD.)

2. Alexithymia is a difficulty with identifying, processing, and expressing your own emotions, and in extreme cases presents as an almost total lack of emotion. Some degree of alexithymia is common in autistic people.

I believe, in the flashback scene below from Act V of the Fontaine Archon Quest, that Furina genuinely did not realize she was upset and did not realize she was crying, which could be explained by alexithymia.

Fontainian citizen: Are… are you crying?

(If you played this part with the English voice acting and interpreted it differently, try listening to it in Chinese- Furina’s voice sounds completely confident and in control the entire time, and it’s not until the other person points out she’s crying that Furina sounds at all upset.)

Fontaine AQ Act V, Chinese audio: (link starts video at 3:22:00) https://youtu.be/T-AbXi5bufk?si=fl8xSwkQ0rRLFPQU&t=12121

I am a believer that Furina and Focalors were originally the same person, and Focalors is just Furina’s divinity and pre-archonhood memories— so if Furina is autistic, Focalors is autistic.

While talking to Neuvillette, Focalors is extremely matter-of-fact with her explanation of her plan, very matter-of-fact about the suffering of her own human self, and very matter-of-fact about her own impending death. There is no show of emotion— she just tells Neuvillette the facts. This could be related to alexithymia, but regardless it is a very autistic way of communicating that is often misinterpreted as cold and uncaring. In actuality, someone who is willing to sacrifice their own immortality, divine power, and freedom to save other people’s lives cares a great deal, even if the tone of their voice doesn’t reflect it!

Focalors: I mean, did you think I would be the sort to enjoy peaceful repose while Furina suffered?

3. The autistic nervous system takes in a lot of information that a neurotypical person’s would filter out as not being important enough to bother with- this is why autistic people are so much more sensitive to sounds, lights, textures, and any changes in the environment. Too much sensory input can actually feel painful.

There is a documented instance of the Opera Epiclese becoming so loud that Furina was overstimulated enough to yell at everyone to be quiet.

Furthermore, post-Archon Quest, after moving out of the Palais Mermonia and into her own apartment, Furina eats primarily macaroni for an unspecified amount of time— weeks or months on end. After a huge life change, it’s common for an autistic person to want anything they can control to be the same, so their brain has more space to process everything that’s different.

There is no neurotypical explanation for eating the same food over and over to the exclusion of everything else. It makes no sense to someone who doesn’t experience overstimulation and distress at too much change. Case in point, during Furina’s Story Quest, Traveler and Paimon are rather baffled:

Traveler: …Don’t you get sick of macaroni every day?

Furina: Not at all. As long as you have different kinds of sauces in, you can have macaroni and tomato sauce one week, macaroni and bolognese the next…

Notice that Furina says “macaroni and tomato sauce one week,” implying that she’s fine with just that sauce for an entire week, and then uses a different sauce for the next entire week. Still not very much variety!

Paimon: Oh, sounds like you’re really struggling to cope… Traveler: Is it because you have to do all your own cooking now?

Yes, Furina is struggling to cope, but not because she’s incapable of learning how to cook more complex dishes! She’s just too burnt out to want to make or eat a variety of things right now. Furina explains this and Paimon doesn’t believe her, but since we know that Furina’s special dish is an even more extravagant version of La Lettre a Focalors, if Furina is capable of baking at that level, she would certainly be capable of cooking.

4. Stimming, or self-stimulatory behaviors, are repetitive actions that serve to regulate or soothe the nervous system. There are countless behaviors that can be used as stims, but some common ones are rocking back and forth, hand flapping or waving, leg bouncing, skin picking or scratching, rubbing or squeezing a comforting object, dancing, spinning in circles, humming or vocalizing, or listening to the same song on repeat for hours. (It’s worth noting that stimming is not exclusive to autism— especially when stressed neurotypical people do some of these things too. Stimming can also be commonly exhibited by people with ADHD who aren’t autistic, although there are also a significant number of people with both ADHD and autism.)

One of Furina’s idle animations and also her normal attack sequence include behaviors that can be interpreted as stimming. Furina’s idle animation with Surintendante Chevalmarin involves her holding the seahorse up, waving her around, squeezing her tightly and rubbing her face on her head. Chevalmarin is made entirely of water and loves Furina dearly, and so does not mind being cuddled like a stuffed animal.

If you use all four of Furina’s normal attacks, she spins around several times and the final attack culminates with her spinning on a bubble and swinging her sword for AOE. If you use just three of Furina’s normal attacks and do not append any additional actions, Furina spins around again before plunging the tip of her sword into the ground (I do not have a gif of this). Furina also spins around when added to your 4-character party. That’s a lot of spinning, which certainly makes it seem like a preferred stim!

5. I got this far without mentioning special interests because I have so much other evidence that I hardly need to bring it up— but since it’s a much more commonly recognized autistic trait than many of the things I discussed at the beginning, I will include this part of Furina’s teapot dialogue, which does indicate that Furina engages in special interests:

Furina pretty much defines “special interest” with the above statement: it’s something that you’re interested in (to the point that it may feel like an obsession) and you have to know everything about it!

These are just a few examples of autistic traits that Furina exhibits— there are absolutely more. Furina is shown many times to have a high level of near constant anxiety despite being someone who is confident enough to perform on stage. This anxiety could come from other sources, like c-PTSD, but it’s very common for a high-masking autistic person to have chronic anxiety from being hyper-aware of avoiding potential social blunders, repressing stimming to appear more “normal,” and dealing with the increased risk of overstimulation that comes with repressing stimming.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading! Even if you don’t agree with my interpretation of the character, I do genuinely hope you learned something about autism.

[frozenjokes]

mumbojumbo and cubfan135 go lalala in Cub’s labyrinth (they eat each other)

big violence in this fic: it is about cannibalism. they are torturing each other to death (at least that’s the goal)

“You want to hear a secret?” Cub said, trailing behind Mumbo as they both approached the entrance of the labyrinth. Maybe Cub sensed that Mumbo was nervous, trying to lighten the mood, though Mumbo couldn’t tell, honestly more focused on what lay ahead of him.

Distantly, he replied, “Yeah, sure.”

“The whole cannibalism thing? Not a vex trait. Like, there’s quite a bit to be said about violence and sacrifice, but usually the point of a sacrifice is.. not eating the meat. You’re giving it up, right?”

Mumbo whirled back to face Cub, unable to help himself. “Wh- Seriously!? But that’s like- That’s your thing!”

“Not a me thing. Not a vex thing. That’s 100% a Scar thing. Dunno where it came from.”

“You can’t possibly say it’s just a Scar thing, you do that stuff all the time.”

“I don’t particularly care for it. I mean,” Cub shrugged, “Raw meat doesn’t do it for me. I was about to say I can’t think of anyone who really prefers to eat things raw, but,” Cub gave Mumbo a sly look, chuckling when Mumbo shrunk back a little, “Maybe I’m wrong?” he snickered, continuing on, “I mean, technically we could cook each other, but with only five minutes before everything disappears, it’s not going to be good. That kind of ruins the whole point anyway, don’t you think? The frenzy? The violence of it? But raw meat is gross. It is enough to ruin the experience 9/10 times. Scar is a fucking freak.”

Mumbo snorted, sure he could list dozens of items that made Cub just as bad. “I do not have this problem. Of raw meat, and doing things I don’t want to do.”

“Scar wants to. And I don’t not want to.”

“Does Scar know that?”

“Probably. I mean, maybe not. I’m not the only one of us who’s thrown up, and let me tell you, in both of our cases it is not an issue of morality. Scar has more enthusiasm, but typically he always does. We’ve never talked about this.”

“You both throw up? How do you know Scar likes doing this?” Mumbo raised his hands, somewhat incredulously, and Cub blinked, confidence momentarily shaken, but he shook his head.

“Of course Scar likes it. He suggested we do it in the first place. It’s like. Our thing now.”

“Had he done it before?”

“I don’t know. He never said so, but we were both a bit less.. the way we are now.. before the vex stuff happened. So I doubt it but-“ Cub cut himself off, shaking his head. “This is stupid. Of course he likes it. He would have said something if he didn’t like it, we do this all the time.”

Mumbo snorted. “You never said anything about not liking it.”

“That is different! Scar would say something! And it’s not even that I strictly don’t like it- It’s fine! A little unpleasant, but fine! I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Get going. Let’s get this started.” Cub crossed his arms, feigning impatience, “Only brought this up in the first place so you don’t get offended when I spit pieces of you back onto the floor. I’ll stick with carrots for now.”

Mumbo rolled his eyes, but ultimately chuckled as he put the few items he’d brought with him away in the available enderchest, “So you’ll eat Scar but not me, I see how it is.” Mumbo had only meant to tease him, but when he looked up from the enderchest, Cub seemed to have stalled where he stood, and Mumbo was concerned he’d offended him, “I didn’t mean that. Do what you want, Cub, you’re..” Struck suddenly with the raw emotion of their conversation only hours ago, Mumbo found himself unable to finish the sentence, putting to words the sheer commitment of what Cub was planning on doing for him; not just now in the labyrinth, but possible weeks of enduring Mumbo’s hunt, all in the name of helping someone that Cub, quite frankly, hardly knew. Helping Mumbo because he simply believed that Mumbo shouldn’t have to starve. And maybe there was an aspect of saving the server as well; Cub was clearly thinking about it, no doubt, but that wasn’t the only reason. Cub didn’t care that Mumbo was a monster, one that would inevitably turn on and abuse him when these optimistic plans didn’t pay off. Mumbo would wear him down, and even with Cub as motivated as he was, eventually, he would have enough and he would leave, abandoning Hermitcraft with the rest of the hermits, starting a life somewhere new. But even after all that, after being dragged through hell, Mumbo did not think Cub would resent him, nor blame him. That alone was utterly too overwhelming. Something about the world felt a little less lonely.

“Do you want me to? Eat you?”

The words snapped Mumbo back to reality, searching for that sly tone Cub’s voice took on when he was teasing, but only finding Cub’s eyes, narrowed, sharp, and deadly serious.

This was deeper than discomfort, it wasn’t even about sustenance, eating, any of it. Mumbo couldn’t identify the feeling, the severity of the gesture, but even with his mouth dry under the weight of Cub’s gaze, he knew he had to seize this.

“Yes.” He’d never meant any commitment more in his whole existence. Cub’s eyes narrowed, and Mumbo struggled to read his expression.

“Promise then, you’ll watch.”

“I’ll watch.”

“You won’t close your eyes.”

“I’ll watch.”

This seemed enough to satisfy Cub, who nodded, a gesture almost minuscule. “Then start running.”

Cub’s pale skin had hardly begun to change color, only a streak or two of white twisting through his hair when he lashed out with long claws, eyes upturned and pupil-less as he tore through the front of Mumbo’s suit, nails just grazing his chest. Mumbo stumbled back, a startled gasp catching in his throat, but he did not need to be told twice to run. Cub’s shrieking laugh followed Mumbo into the labyrinth.

It was so loud, so overpowering that Mumbo was sure Cub would catch him the moment he hit his first dead end. Mumbo whirled around, swinging a fist to the assailant at his heels, but his hand only met air, the laughter receding to a sharp snicker, delighting in its trick. Mumbo stood, dumbstruck, but only for a moment, launching himself back into the maze. When he turned after escaping from the dead end, the laughter followed, growing in volume until Mumbo was once again sure Cub was directly behind him. Every dead end caught a spark of anxiety, needing desperately to get out, to keep running before Cub caught him at the fork, but Cub was never there, taking his worst form when Mumbo was forced to turn around, phantom footsteps clipping his heels.

There were signs littering the maze, teasing and tips and the like, but Mumbo found he literally couldn’t stop to read them; he wasn’t sure he could stop even if he willed his limbs to still. Fear shoved his adrenaline into overdrive, Mumbo had never found himself so panicked, and he lost the wherewithal to suspect Cub’s magic when something pulled at his hair, then shrieked so loudly in his ear that Mumbo thought the sound might blind him.

So kind to share, been too long since we’ve had a taste-!

Mumbo woke up on the floor, the voices that overlapped and reverberated through his head gone as suddenly as they’d appeared, but the pitched laughter remained. He tried to remember how he’d gotten here- fallen most likely- but there was something in his eye, he tried to blink, but small hands gripped his eyelashes- something was pulling his hair, his clothes, something was biting his ankle, his waist, but something was in his eye, and before he could thrash and tear it away-

Only one order, one off-limits area, but you don’t need two to see-!

Mumbo woke up screaming, the panic that was shrieking at him to flee overtaken by his natural instinct to fight. He tore at his face, bloodying fingers that were not claws seconds ago, smashing apart vex with fists and teeth and kicking with the vengeance of a man who’d been stolen from. He was still on the floor, blindly tearing apart spirits when someone snatched his arm, ripping it back so hard that Mumbo was certain it’d break, but he didn’t have time to think, smashing his chin as he was flipped gracelessly onto his stomach. Mumbo thrashed, but claws found the base where his neck met his back, digging in without hesitation and injecting a new surge of blind terror as if they were hypodermic needles. Mumbo flailed, screaming, but found himself pinned, the weight of his assailant falling completely over his back and legs, left arm still being held at that horrible angle.

“Bastards, aren’t they. Never listen. But don’t get distracted, love, I’m so much worse.”

Mumbo thrashed anew, tearing his arm out of Cub’s grip with an unexpected surge of strength and rearing up, smashing their heads together in an impact so forceful that Mumbo was momentarily dazed, but when he came to just seconds later, no one was there. Mumbo heaved a deep breath, the first he’d been able to take in what felt like hours. Hot blood seeped down the side of his face, eye burning so fiercely that even the untouched one watered out of control, leaving him near blind.

He kept running.

He found himself crashing into walls, startling back from dead ends that didn’t exist, seeing things too close or too far. Sometimes when he’d turn around, a vex spirit would be waiting, slashing its claws across his nose and lips before slipping away, shrieking laughter as it went. Sometimes they would speak to him, teasing, and always he would wake up collapsed into a wall or on the floor, but they did not converge on him again, perhaps lacking the numbers to do so, or more likely on Cub’s instruction.

Still they pulled at his hair, his clothes. Mumbo felt no greater terror when they slipped into his pant legs or under his shirt collar, so distressed by the graze of their cold nails on his skin that he had to stop, to beat them away, do anything to get them out. But then Cub’s footsteps would sound from down the hall, differentiated from the illusions because he was slow, unhurried, his laugh deeper, controlled, and Mumbo knew he had no more time to wrestle spirits out of his clothes.

Despite Cub’s promise that he was worse, his vex sensed his fear, panic, agonizing discomfort, and it was not long before they realized that Mumbo could not reach them where he hated them most. As predators do, they took full advantage. There came a point where Mumbo just had to push on, ignore the scratching and biting and ripping of the seams of his clothes. But for all his effort, his ability to focus was ruined. Running aimlessly in a labyrinth was one thing, but when he hit the parkour, trapdoors laid out teasingly across the unforgiving deepslate walls; Mumbo didn’t stand a chance.

He made the first jump on shaky legs, but a vex choosing to bite in a sensitive area just as he leapt for the second jump ruined him completely, slipping, but he did not hit the ground before a chorus of shrill voices sung their joy.

Uh oh!

When Mumbo woke up, he was on the floor and the vex were gone. It was silent, the buzz of absence ringing loudly in Mumbo’s ears and he struggled to his knees, tattered clothes doing him zero favors. He needed to get up. He needed to try again before they came back, got the chance to distract him. He needed to get past this, and quickly.

When Mumbo looked up, Cub was staring down at him, perched on the trapdoors that made up the third jump. Mumbo had never seen a smile more unkind.

“That hit you hard, didn’t it,” Cub mused, making no effort to move when Mumbo was so frozen in place, “Looks to me like you’re losing steam. That’s a shame. You’ve had a godawful run, most hermits would’ve made it through the whole damn thing by now.”

Mumbo couldn’t do anything but catch his breath. Even if he wanted to get away, wanted to try the parkour again, Cub was in the way. Wait- How long had it been? How long did it take to complete the labyrinth-?

Cub hummed, uncaring. “I should’ve stopped you sooner. You were so scared, so blindly terrified, I was starting to wonder if I could make you a meal out of yourself. But you’re so tired now, you look just about ready to give up.”

Mumbo was tired. It was hitting him now, all at once, weighing him down, leaving him unable to get to his feet. He couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe. How much time had really passed? He was feeling it now. As adrenaline failed him, the blistering pain of his injuries was starting to overcome him, and slowly, slowly Mumbo realized there may be multiple reasons he couldn’t stand.

Maybe it would be better to lay down. To give up and take whatever was in store.

“No good, no good,” Cub tutted, quietly thoughtful, “Well, I’ll see what I can do.”

Cub was not wearing his elytra, but still he seemed to float to the ground. Though it was possible that was an illusion, Mumbo struggled to tell the difference anymore. Too gently, Cub took Mumbo’s hand. Mumbo jerked weakly away and Cub snatched his arm back, drawing his own fingers to Mumbo’s wrist, thumb pressing dangerously into his pulse. Mumbo felt that familiar rush of adrenaline, instinct to run, but he was too spent, Cub’s magic flowing out just as easily as it entered, leaving Mumbo twitching, but little else more. Vaguely, Mumbo was aware of blood swelling at his wrist and dripping down his arm. Cub’s grip was too tight, and fruitlessly, Mumbo tried to pry him away. Cub let him try, amused, maybe, but Mumbo didn’t know when he closed his eyes against the strain.

“Hey.” Cub hissed, free hand seizing Mumbo’s neck so hard he choked, then jerking up to find Mumbo’s chin, fingers pressed so ruthlessly against his teeth through his cheek, Mumbo was sure he’d start to bleed. “You promised.”

Mumbo didn’t know what he was talking about, struggling against Cub’s grip on his jaw, only to have Cub yank him up by the face, close enough that Mumbo could feel his hot breath, contrasted heavily by those cold, cruel claws.

“You’re going to watch, Mumbo. You’re going to watch me tear off your fingernails with my teeth then feed them to you, let you taste your own fear for a change, how does that sound?”

A jolt of new terror shook Mumbo’s form, and this was not Cub’s synthetic adrenaline either, this came from him, raw and afraid. He opened his eyes and struggled with new vigor, clawing at Cub’s grip on his own hand, but even drawing blue blood on blunt nails did not make Cub wince.

“Good man.” Cruel red skin flowered under the surface of Cub’s face and he cackled through the change, yanking Mumbo’s trapped hand to his lips. Mumbo was strong, stronger than Cub, he knew it, but no amount of clawing would make Cub let go, Mumbo was just too fatigued. Cub set his sharp teeth in the bed of Mumbo’s pointer finger nail, holding firm enough that more than just Mumbo’s nail was going to leave him when Cub bit through. As Cub’s teeth broke skin, pulling, dragging backwards, something at the back of Mumbo’s mind snapped, instinct taking the reins, remembering when Mumbo could not that he was not bound by the confines of human anatomy.

On anyone else, Cub’s grip on his face would have been entirely safe, but perhaps they’d both forgotten that Mumbo was not, in fact, human.

While Cub took his finger, Mumbo took his hand, face collapsing like a sinkhole until Mumbo had Cub’s entire wrist, held fast in teeth that were no longer dull.

Cub shrieked, and this time there was no laughter. He may have taken more of Mumbo’s finger than intended, but without a doubt Mumbo had won this trade. Mumbo jerked his head hard enough to break Cub’s wrist, Cub letting go of his arm in turn, face redder, white eyes shining, but the only reason Cub managed to wrench his wrist out of Mumbo’s teeth was because Mumbo was already letting go, lunging to snap at Cub’s face instead. Teeth connected at Cub’s right eyebrow and the left side of his mouth, but the damage was only minimal, an attack misjudged because a human face was much flatter than what he was more familiar with.

Before he could lunge again, the force of both Cub’s legs slammed into Mumbo’s stomach, stealing his breath in a body that was already so winded. Cub slipped away before Mumbo could catch a leg with fingers too long, but not long enough. Not that Mumbo could have held on in a state so breathless, but his human mind was no longer at the reins. The vex injuries smoothed themselves over as Mumbo fought for air, swiping aimlessly above himself at the player hopping effortlessly across its own parkour, pushing deeper into the maze.

Mumbo had lost too much blood, expended too much energy to completely recover his strength, but it did not matter. The player would not escape him.

Mumbo did not need to do the parkour to climb the ledge. His legs would step as far as he needed them to. His arms would haul him forward. No one could outrun him.

The maze served to be a source of great frustration. He knew fear, he did not need to see to sense it, he was so close, but there were always walls in his way, barriers that kept him from the fastest path forward. Mumbo did not mind taking his time, not on a normal day, but patience was difficult to come by when you were salivating at the tease of a taste, when you were starving, when you’d take anything, terror as well as that carnal excitement that stank up the halls, leaving a trail as obvious as the trickle of blue blood.

Mumbo could not wait any longer. He would have it all until there was no more trace.

It was not long before they crossed paths.

Mumbo was stalking down a long hall when the player turned a corner, their eyes meeting for only a moment before Mumbo darted forward, the player dashing to the left and throwing up an illusion of a wall that did not work, Mumbo smashing through it on the trail of fear too strong to hide. The player was laughing, Mumbo thought, as he pursued it through the narrow halls, but it would not be laughing for long. Even distractions of giggling vex spirits did not slow him down; they could bite, scratch, or do whatever they liked, but they’d better hold on, because Mumbo was not stopping for anything.

Mumbo did not get to turn the next corner before the player attacked first, barreling into Mumbo hard enough to knock him from his feet, snarling, laughing, somehow still laughing, and as Mumbo smashed into the ground, head cracking against the floor, the player found his throat with its teeth, tearing down through the muscle and constricting Mumbo’s windpipe, blood bubbling up his throat and out of from his lips, but the player did not let go, keeping its teeth fixed deep in Mumbo’s neck so that he could not heal, could not stop himself from suffocating.

Tearing at the player’s clothes, Mumbo tried desperately to push it away, roll the both of them over, get on top, but the player was using its weight to its advantage, Mumbo’s own uncoordinated exhaustion coming back to bite him as he strained for air, for energy, for a new surge of adrenaline that might lend him enough strength to get it off.

Mumbo’s claws found purchase on the player’s stomach and ripped through, heaving and desperate, but even with the player’s blue blood sloshing out of it in sick, warm waves, it did not let go, it did not even loosen its grip. Spilling its organs was not enough to escape this, its determination to see the both of them fall in this game of cat and mouse where the roles were shared between them too stubborn. Mumbo might not have minded if he wasn’t starving. And he was going to eat, meager as this meal might be.

With his last surge of life, Mumbo let his fingers grow long and to a point, and in a bout of strength dredged from the depths of his need, Mumbo drove that hand directly through the player's head.

It was instant, the kind of crunch that Mumbo rarely found satisfying, but now when he had used every reserve of his power, he could not do anything but lay there, unable even to rip his hand out of the player’s skull, to heal the gaping hole in his throat. But he did not need to breathe to eat. If he was going to die, it would be with this player’s flesh lodged in his crushed esophagus.

The player was laid limp on top of him. He was so blinded by red and blue blood alike, he hardly knew where he was biting down, but it did not matter. Mumbo did not care at all.

cubfan135 was slain by Mumbo Jumbo

Mumbo Jumbo was slain by cubfan135