#could not stop listening to it while drawing him
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zosan-secondchances · 2 days ago
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The Pirate King of the North: Part 12
With Initial Concepts of Sanji's Skypiea Outfit
Main Themes: V̸͉́i̸̘͛l̶̘̀l̴̞͘a̷͙͆ǐ̶̧ṅ̷̰ ̸̉͜Ṡ̶̬a̷̞̎n̴͖̚j̵͝ͅḯ̶͖, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship
Warning: Long post ahead and some One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.
Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12
While Zoro, Sanji and Law were in the middle of their little game, Niji had other things to attend to.
The sun is nearly set and the blue-haired commander was crouched down, safely hidden in the dark refuge of the treeline overlooking a tavern in Mock Town. It had been raining around Jaya as the Heart Pirate mink had predicted.
For hours now, he'd been listening to the conversation between the establishment's patrons and one of Doflamingo’s lackeys, Bellamy the Hyena. The obnoxious man drunkenly bragged about the different missions he'd been personally assigned to by the Warlord himself. As one of Germa’s skilled agents, Niji knew that most of the his stories had been embellished to impress the crowd.
He's glad that he had managed to slip in a transponder snail in Bellamy's possession earlier that day. It wasn't easy, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity before him.
While one hand holds onto his own snail, he reaches up to check the state of his helmet with the other, worried about its condition as he feels a large part of the front barely hanging on. He knew that one significant damage to it may split his entire headwear, and he doesn't have enough resources to patch it up if that occurs. If he's not careful, he might put himself out of commission for months until Sanji is able to make him a new one.
He considers bailing multiple times in favour of actually doing exactly what his brother had instructed him to do for his own safety. He meant to drop off the condensed Seastones at one of their labs, go home to recover and get help from Reiju or Ichiji to repair his helmet, then off to Dressrosa to go undercover.
Ultimately, he decides to delay the new mission in favour of staying a bit longer, not wanting to miss the slim chance that he could learn more about the current whereabouts of Doflamingo and his plans from one of his loyal lackeys who reside in an island that's way out of reach given its immense distance from home.
There was a sudden snap of a twig nearby. Without hesitation, he draws out his sword and swings behind him. He stops his attack just inches away from an open palm hand that was ready to catch his blade. He hisses at the sight and begins to speak in a hushed manner.
Niji
Fuckin’ hell, Yonji. 
The green-haired man, fully equipped in his Raid Suit, straightens up and cracks his neck side to side.
Yonji
Yo.
Niji
Don't do that. I don't have Sanji's observation haki. That freak can tell how many steps I take on my way to the bathroom from my own bloody room.
Niji sheaths his sword then places the transponder snail gently on a rock protruding out of the grass in front of them so they can both hear the ongoing conversation through it. He takes notice of Yonji kneeling down next to him, also attentively listening in. The other man mirrors his whispering.
Yonji
Maybe you're just getting sloppy. What with how much you wear that…thing.
Yonji nods towards his cracked helmet. Niji gives him a side glance in return, unaffected by the statement. Wearing it for prolonged periods has been an argument that they repeatedly have now and then. The last time this was in discussion, they simply agreed to disagree.
Niji 
So? Where's yours?
Yonji
I didn't bring it.
The blue-haired man sighs disappointingly.
Niji 
I know it's useless to tell you, but you really oughta have it on hand more often. Even if it's just for emergencies.
Yonji grunts in response. He tips his head towards the den-den mushi.
Yonji
So what are you doing here?
Niji 
I'm here to see to a rumour. Well…several rumours.
Yonji
Rumours?
Niji nods. He allows himself to relax a little now that he has his brother for support. He sits back on his ass and leans his head back to look up at the trees, watching the droplets of water drip down from their leaves.
Niji 
Word is, Doflamingo had managed to find Sanji's…owner. The one he was sold to when he was younger.
Yonji raises a brow at him, intrigued at the news.
Niji
And…apparently, he'd given up a lot just to buy him. It cost a fortune.
The green-haired man crosses his arms, processing the information.
Yonji
Is it to get the Celestial Dragons off his back…or to control him? The last I heard, Mihawk backed out of the hunt suddenly.
Niji
Mihawk was assigned? I thought the old fossil was retiring?
To answer your question, I'm not sure yet…. I'm inclined to believe that it could be both, knowing the devil.
He shifts in his seat and pulls up his hood to protect himself from the now pouring rain. Glancing to the side, he notices Yonji just accepted getting soaked, his hair slightly disheveled.
Niji
The other rumour is that this guy, Bellamy, is keeping the Proof of Ownership papers safe for Doflamingo. It's…not much of a rumour given how big his mouth is.
Sure enough, the transponder snail bellows out the man's loud laughter after bragging about his newest promotion, and how he's well on his way to become the Warlord's right hand man if he plays his cards right.
Niji
It makes sense that he'd assign him here to hide the papers. This place is on the opposite side of the world from Dressrosa, and the guy is grossly loyal.
But I'll believe it when I see it. With you here, we might actually be able to find and destroy them right here and now. Then we can finally cut ties without all the running around to see if Corazon is still alive or not.
Yonji
Hmm….
Niji 
See? You can come up with a perfectly logical plan, even with emotions!
Yonji
Tch.
Niji 
Speaking of plans…what are you doing here? Are Reiju and Ichiji around too?
I told you guys that I can respond to Sanji's distress signal by myself since I'm the fastest. I didn't call for backup.
Yonji
I came to check in because Reiju had exclusively ordered you to extract Sanji from the Demon Warlord. And you've gone radio silent for weeks.
What's your status?
Niji shrugs his shoulders.
Niji 
I needed to disappear to safely escort Sanji and the Heart Pirates to Skypiea.
He didn't need rescuing. He's… ugh… “involved” with the Demon Warlord now. They're travelling together.
Yonji takes a sharp breath in and glares at him.
Yonji
He died in his presence, Niji. How do you suppose that happened? Roronoa Zoro has been trying to kill him for a very long time.
Niji
Look, I know it's a shock. But you're just going to have to trust me on this one. Things have changed. Reiju and Ichiji would get it. I'm sure of it.
I…have a feeling that we'll see more of that swordsman. Ugh….
The blue-haired commander runs his fingers over the cracks of his helmet.
Niji
I'll never forgive him for this though. But at least I know that he can hold himself in a fight. I can vouch that he is what they say he is.
Yonji
He did that? We already knew that he's a monster.
Niji 
Err…yeah. But I started the fight.
Yonji stands calmly, his eyes hidden from his darkened expression. His movements were almost robotic and stiff.
Yonji
You failed to extract Your Majesty from the Demon Warlord, as you were ordered to.
Your own, clearly, terrible decision-making ability includes starting a fight with the very enemy our king cannot defeat himself. You've put yourself in danger, and potentially our home.
Niji looks up at him with his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Yonji
The worst part is, you allowed their relationship to develop when you could have done something about it. It almost sounds like you approve of it.
Niji
I watched them very carefully for weeks, Yonji. It's not exactly a decision that's up to me either. Sanji seemed genuinely happy and…
His mind floods with the small shy moments that he has had with their head chef, Cosette: The way she'd put extra syrup aside for his waffles just the way he likes it; how she'd give him the warmest smile as they pass each other by the halls; how she'd stay up late just to personally deliver him a glass of water during his training sessions, how their fingers would gently touch when she passes it to him, and how his heart would jump at every contact that they allowed each other.
Niji
It's not… easy for us. We're not exactly the perfect family, or humans for that matter. We're barely one. You know?
Yonji
No, I don't know, Niji.
He takes a looming step forwards, as he raises his clenched fists up to his sides.
In retaliation, Niji swiftly jumps back to a stance, unsheathing his sword with one hand while the other clawed outwards as sparks of electricity emanate from it.
Niji
Yonji…you never told me how you knew where to find me.
There was a moment of silence. Only then did the blue-haired man realise that there were no more sounds coming from the transponder snail.
He hears rustling of leaves all around and notices a contingent of pirates surrounding them. Bellamy himself is stalking directly behind him with a malicious grin on his face.
When he returns his gaze to his brother, the last thing he sees is a fist before darkness overtakes him.
Zoro emerges from the tent in the wee hours of the morning, only wearing his haramaki and trousers as he ended up using his robe to clean himself from Sanji's nosebleed last night. The air was chilly, and the surroundings were covered in a layer of fog from the abundance of the clouds present in Skypiea. The swordsman squints his eye and looks around, trying to make sense of the state of their campsite. He finds Law bent over what used to be their campfire, trying to relight it to make himself a morning coffee.
Zoro
Hey, have you seen Curly?
Law grumbles quietly to himself, cursing at the damp kindling that he tosses away to swap for a new one.
Law
How should I know? I thought he was with you?
I barely slept a wink last night. I thought you two promised to tone it down while we're travelling together?
Zoro
He went out but didn't come back last night.
Law snaps his head over his shoulder to look at him. After a brief pause, he stands, dropping the flint he'd been using.
Law
That's not good.
In a rush, the swordsman passes him to get to their packs and begins dressing himself with a fresh shirt to protect himself from the chill.
Zoro
I'm going to look for him. I'll be back.
He secures his swords around his waist and is about to depart when Law holds his hand out in front of him.
Law
No, the fog is too thick. You need to stay here.
Zoro
All the more reason for us to spread out to find him.
Law
Not when you're doing it with someone who has a sense of direction of a rock.
Zoro suddenly enrages and grabs to pull him by the scruff of his neck. His other fist clenched in the air just inches away from the doctor's face.
Zoro
I don't have time for this shit, Traffy. Don't try to stop me.
With widened eyes, Law grips Zoro's wrist and tries to wriggle away from his hold with no luck. He studies the man's clearly panicked state then raises both his hands in defeat.
Law
I apologise. That was uncalled for.
Do you know where he'd gone and why he left? You don't think he was…
Zoro pushes him away and runs a hand over his own face. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he shut his eye tight, feeling remorseful and distressed.
Zoro
I said something that may have freaked him out. I just…. Maybe we were taking things too fast? This is all new to me. I've never….
How do you know when to say the right things? I just thought we…. Maybe I'm reading things wrong….
When he finishes talking–or rather, stammering out words–he crosses his arms together, looking small.
Law's expression softens as he feels sympathy for him.
Law
Room.
A blue sphere expands from his hand outwards then he brings out his sword to raise it slightly out of its sheath.
The swordsman looks around him to watch.
Law
Scan.
A vertical beam travels outwards from his blade then around the orb surrounding the area. When it finishes its revolution with no results, Law sighs disappointingly and returns his sword in its scabbard. He walks towards their packs and begins to rummage through his belongings.
Law
He's not nearby, so I need you to stay and see if there's any clues as to his whereabouts.
Zoro
But–
The doctor throws a transponder snail to him as he pockets one for himself, interrupting the other man's protests. Zoro catches the small creature in time.
Law
Someone needs to stay here in case he comes back. The fog’s a bit thick so I'll need to scan further away to see if I can find him. With luck, I don't have to use it too much. It's a little exhausting.
Call me if you find anything useful or if there's trouble.
The swordsman opens the palm of his hand to stare at the snail in his possession, then he gives the other man a glare, unhappy with his decision.
Law
Mr. Prince-ya wouldn't just leave us without good reason. He did just say that he's sticking around last night.
He starts walking past him then pauses.
Law
Though you should know…
Zoro furrows his brows worriedly, listening intently.
Law
We're not out of the woods yet after what happened in Sabaody Archipelago. I'm sure that you've read the papers and, least to say, it's not good. Expect some repercussions. We did everything we could to travel here unnoticed but…
Zoro
You don't think that's why I want to go out there? I should be the one looking for him.
Law turns to him with an annoyed expression on his face, his patience wearing thin.
Law
Not in this weather, Zoro-ya. Yesterday, you said that you'd follow my plans by the book–this is one of them. I entertained our little game but now, I need you to listen to me and stay. That's my final word.
He watches the swordsman visibly tremble in anger.
Zoro
I don't have to listen to you. You're not my captain.
What if… what if he….
Zoro's other hand clenches into a tight fist. The swordsman is still too anxious and stressed to be fully satisfied with the plan of action.
Law
If I'm not back in an hour, come find me, or do whatever the hell you want.
He approaches the other man to place a hand on his shoulder then gives it a reassuring shake.
Law
We don't know what happened yet. Maybe he just needed space last night and now he's off getting us some breakfast.
Zoro finally looks at him eye to eye. He breathes in deeply to compose himself.
Zoro
Alright. I just…I already waited all night and…nothing. I'm done sitting around.
The doctor gives him a final nod before walking away.
Law
One hour.
Law worked his way west and scanned again but yielded no results. So then he proceeds around to try his luck, southward from their campsite where they had travelled. He climbs a tree then scans the surroundings for his third attempt.
Finally, he sees a satisfying blink from his sights. He clambers down and proceeds to the location.
Approaching slowly, by a small stream, he finds Sanji in an oversized shirt, hunched over the edge, painstakingly washing a long piece of fabric that looks like his cloak.
The doctor was certain that his own footsteps made noises by the rustling of leaves and the snapping of twigs as he walked directly behind him but he didn't see any sort of reaction from the man. That's when he sees blood trailing downstream from the cloth.
Law
I've been looking everywhere for you.
The blonde didn't hear him. He continues to clean without so much as noticing what's happening close to him.
Law's eyebrows furrow, finding it unusual that the man with arguably the best observation haki between the three of them wasn't aware of his presence, let alone see his Room sphere when he scanned the area earlier.
Law
Mr. Prince-ya?
Nothing.
Carefully, he reaches out and touches the man's shoulder.
Sanji flinches and gasps as he turns his head over his shoulders to look at the doctor frightfully. His wide eyes bore deep shadows underneath it and he looks visibly shaken from the contact. He was pale and looked thinner than usual with his sunken cheeks, on which one side had a fresh purple bruise and his lip had been cut open on one corner.
Law’s eyes widen but he stops himself from looking too shocked at his state. He withdraws the hand that he held him with, and raises it as a sign that he meant no harm.
Law
Are you okay? The swordsman said that you've been missing since last night.
Sanji eases a little but he still looks very tense. He returns his attention to washing the stain off his cloak. Upon closer inspection, the doctor catches sight of his trembling body, evident by the mad involuntary shaking of his hands. 
Sanji
I'm here, aren't I?
He spat out the words with a forced voice that sounds venomous but Law detects a layer of facade with the man. He lets him carry on, but he can't help but notice that the bloodstain that he's meticulously working on had already been rubbed onto the fabric permanently, and it looks like he's just cleaning it more so to keep his hands occupied and while his mind is probably someplace else. It would explain the vulnerable state he'd unintentionally put himself in.
Law
I find it hard to believe that this is where you've been all night. Where were you? Did something happen?
Sanji
I just needed some space. I'll be up there in a second, alright? So just leave me be.
Sanji hunches his shoulders and shifts a little, causing his hair to fall forward around his shoulders. It reveals his uncovered neck.
Softly and gently, Law speaks to him in a low voice.
Law
You know…if you like, I can remove it.
Sanji
Can you leave me alone? Please…? I can do laundry just fine like I have been for everyone on your ship. So go away.
The blonde's voice broke as he spoke and his body trembled more. His face is hidden under the fringe of his hair but the doctor could tell he's on the verge of crying.
Law gives him a moment. When he notices that the quiet is progressively causing the blonde to shake further, he continues.
Law
I meant your slave mark.
Sanji stills. His hands slowly clench into fists.
Law
When I operated on you, I wanted to remove it like I did with Jean Bart's but I didn't want to do it without your consent.
I can't remove it with my powers because it's burnt on your skin but I can surgically repair it with clean skin tissues. I just need a small sample from you. It will look like nothing happened.
Sanji
But something did happen.
A lot of shit. Happened.
He accentuated parts of his statement by growling the words and frustratingly punching into the shallow water with splashes. Law has a feeling that he wasn't just referring to the events surrounding his mark. After a few seconds of quiet, the blonde sniffs as his head dips down. The doctor could hear him sobbing softly.
Unintentionally, Law strokes the furline of his own coat, remembering that silly bet that the other man took and honoured with the Heart Pirates crew.
Law
Or…you know, I can just…clean your laundry for a change. It won't take long at all.
You've been doing that for us for a while, even way past you were expected to.
Law had said that in a light tone as an attempt to brighten up the mood. Clearly the blonde didn't want to talk about what's bothering him but he needed–wanted–to try and make him feel better. Only then did he notice how Luffy and Sanji's positivity and kindness had rubbed off on him over time.
There is a brief pause then suddenly Sanji drops his cloak, turns to stand and wraps his arms around to pull him into a tight hug, pinning his arms to the sides. The blonde begins sobbing quietly but his shoulders shakes violently.
Law
Uhh….
Law has no idea what to do. He stands there uncomfortably for a while as he lets the man cry it out. He tries to remember what Luffy, Bepo or anyone on his crew would do in this situation. In the end, he resorts to giving him awkward pats on the back as far up as he could reach.
Law
Th–there, there…?
He spoke with great uncertainty and felt his face flush red from embarrassment. It really isn't like him to even say that or return someone's hug, and yet here he is. He begins to question how and why he got into this mess.
Eventually, Sanji releases him and takes a step back, looking down sorrowfully with his eyes full of tears and nose runny with snot. Law wasn't sure how much help he did after seeing the state of him, but he believed that the fact that the blonde is out of whatever trance he was in is progress.
Law
Listen, when you told me everything about your family weeks ago, your brother said that you were offering your trust for mine. So that's what I'm doing, okay?
Sanji
Oh, Traffy….
Sanji cleans his face by wiping it with the inside collar of his shirt. When he sets his arms down, he looks less sad but more anxious.
Law
So whatever happened last night, I trust that you did the right thing. I'm not going to question you about it or ask for details unless it's something you want to talk to me about, but that's up to you.
And… there's nothing… weird about… hugs.
Law shivers at mentioning the word, earning a weak smile from the blonde but it didn't last long as it fades as quickly as it came. Then finally, Sanji replies softly.
Sanji
Right….
Law
Right.
We should probably head back before Zoro-ya wanders off on his own. I promised I'd be back with you before the hour's out.
But… think about my offer? We can do it any time back on my ship.
…No pressure.
The blonde didn't reply. Instead, he averts his gaze and wraps his arms around himself after hearing his other half's name.
Law walks past him to pick up the discarded cloak by the stream. With flicks of his hand, he casts his Room ability and extracts the water and blood from the fabric. He then offers it back to Sanji who takes it gratefully.
Zoro was about to head out ten minutes earlier than the agreed time period when Law returned with Sanji in tow. The man looked worse than when he carried him back from Sabaody, but he was thankful that his life wasn't in immediate danger and, to his knowledge, there was less blood involved.
When the swordsman approached to fuss and ask details about the blonde's facial injuries and events of the previous night, the doctor stopped him and told him to give the man some space. Sanji simply walked by them and proceeded to properly dress himself and pack up for the day.
Breakfast was put together before setting out, which the blonde took initiative to prepare and serve for the other two with their own choice of morning brew. He didn't have any for himself. Instead, while the others ate their fill, he took a moment to burn the cursed oversized shirt that he had returned to camp with.
The fog had settled, which the three were grateful for, but the trek was a lot quieter compared to the exciting one yesterday.
Their path has fewer trees now, but in place is a steep uphill trail with an open meadow littered with flowers and ancient ruins covered with overgrown moss sticking out of the ground. Thanks to the clearer weather, the vast spread of the White Sea is visible, stretching far into the distance if one is to turn their backs to the small dirt path they had been following. The intensity of the wind was more punishing the higher they travelled, but the sight was to behold.
Sanji kept his distance, choosing to be the last one behind as he followed the two like a mindless husk, too dazed to pay attention to the lovely scene before him. Zoro thought that he'd absolutely be beside himself at the sight in his normal state. He was tempted to take pictures for the man on his behalf like he was doing throughout yesterday but decided against it as the blonde probably didn’t want any proof of a time when he’s feeling down. A part of him was really hoping that the view would bring him some semblance of joy. 
It didn't. Instead, Sanji kept his head down and trudged on quietly. Law had to verbally call him out to make sure that he was heading the right direction several times, and to make sure that he hurdles the smallest of obstacles like walking over wobbly rocks because his head is too far gone to focus properly. Without Law's warnings, he'd be tripping on his feet, which had already occurred too many times for Zoro's liking.
Neither three had rested much from the previous night, that much the swordsman knows, but he suspects that the blonde had suffered more damage than just lack of sleep.
After a long while, Zoro couldn't handle the silence anymore. He slows down to distance himself from the doctor who was leading the way so he can have a quiet one-on-one with the blonde who was tailing behind them.
Mindful of the fragile state of the man, he speaks softly.
Zoro
Hey….
Sanji looks up briefly behind his deep eyebags but pays him no mind. He continues his way forwards, focusing his eyes on the path before him. The swordsman walks at his pace side by side, careful not to get too close.
Zoro
Curls, what's really going on?
He receives no reply.
Zoro
I’m worried about you. You were clearly hurt.
Nothing.
Zoro
Whatever it is, let me help.
His persistence was rewarded with a small reaction. The blonde's body tenses and he hugs his cloak closer to him, trying to cover his body.
Zoro 
Whatever it is, you know we can take it together. You know I'm here for you.
Sanji halts in his steps. He hunches his shoulders again to look smaller, which seems to be his newest habit today.
Zoro
Please…talk to me.
The blonde dips his head down further and his lips start to tremble. He looks like he's on the verge of crying once more.
Law notices the absence of his companions directly around him. He turns around and finds the two having a conversation downhill from where he was standing. His eye twitches at the swordsman who clearly didn’t heed his advice so he tries to keep things moving along for the sake of Sanji’s sanity.
Law
Oi! We need to keep moving! I want to get back on track before midday.
Zoro
Hold on a sec!
He returns his attention to the shivering man in front of him.
Zoro has tried many times to communicate with his own words in the past. Some are more successful than others. This time, he thought he would try to look for some wisdom someplace else. He remembers Nami's words that stuck to him, so he adds his own spin to it.
Zoro
Curls, I just want you to be alright. I’m here for you. You… you have to let me in.
Tentatively, he reaches out, his fingers stretching with intention to caress the man's distraught face.
Zoro
Otherwise…I don't know how I can help.
He gently strokes his cheek with the back of his finger.
Sanji suddenly recoils. His eyes snap wide open angrily from the contact and he takes a wide swipe with his clawed gauntlet towards him. For a split second, Zoro sees that his arms shone black from armament haki.
Sanji
DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!
The swordsman crouches down to the side just in time to dodge his attack. His ear was just shy from being completely cut clean off his face but a few strands of his trimmed hair flew into the wind and he received a deep gash across his right cheek.
Law
Holy shit–!
The wind dies around them as Zoro fumbles to the ground. Then suddenly, the earth shook, followed by deafening cracks and a powerful blast of wind as the entire span of the meadow behind the swordsman was sliced into five long streaks outwards, shaped like a swipe of a claw which carved deep through the earth. Trees, shrubs and colourful flowers all across the cliffside are uprooted and carried away from the force, destroying them and sending them flying off towards the White Sea. The ground sizzled and glowed from extreme heat at the sharpest point of the impact.
There was nothing left of what used to be the peaceful meadow but misshapen earth and smoke emanating from the trenches. Any grass that was left is practically crisped from the blast.
Zoro and Law stared at the man, both shocked and speechless at the now panting Pirate King. His furious panicked eyes turn into a watery one as tears begin to form at the corner of his fierce blue eyes. He screams in a high pitch shrill of a voice.
Sanji
WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE, ZORO?!
Stunned from his reaction, the swordsman blanks out. He opens his mouth to say something–anything–but can't seem to form any words. He closes it and gulps, feeling uncertain of what's to come next.
Law watches the scene in front of him quietly, careful not to drop his guard in case the blonde loses control again.
Sanji takes a moment to realise what he'd done. When he does, his face suddenly eases into an impassive one and he retracts the blades from his gauntlets with a flick of his wrists. With a clear and firm voice, he speaks.
Sanji
We're done, Zoro.
Zoro's eye widens and his body stiffens.
Sanji
I'm staying to help Traffy like I promised.
But after this, it'll be the last time you see me.
The last line had a hint of sorrow to it as his voice gradually broke. He walks away and passes the swordsman to make his way to Law.
Before he could get too far out of reach, Zoro stands and grabs his hand.
Zoro
No.
Sanji swiftly spins, his other hand raised for another strike but the swordsman quickly gets a hold of his wrist with his opposite hand before the blonde’s haki forms.
Sanji
What the fuck do you think you're doing?!
He tries to pull himself away but Zoro tightens his hold. The swordsman knew he was taking a risk and was being selfish–but he needed the man to know what he had to say.
Zoro
I love you.
Sanji stills his movements. It was his turn to stare at him dumbfoundedly. His eyes are blown wide and pupils dilated.
Zoro
If I hadn't been clear about it before, here it is now.
I'm madly in love with you.
And there’s not a force in the world that can change that.
The blonde’s eyes fill with tears once more as his lips tremble. He parts his lips as if to say something but is met with Zoro’s own clashing onto his. The sudden contact made him gasp and he was too stunned to move. His body reacted involuntarily as the sensation flowed from his lips right through to the tips of his limbs like it needed it, wanted it, and thirsted for it. After a brief pause, he melts into the kiss and closes his eyes. Tears flowed down his cheek freely.
Zoro releases his arms as he snakes his own around Sanji’s figure to pull him close. The blonde’s hands held onto his shoulders for balance. The swordsman's kisses were purposely shallow, not wanting to push any further than he already has. He peppers his lips with tender kisses, trying to show him love by way of action, careful to avoid the deep cut on one side of his lip. He notices that the blonde isn’t returning his affection–only taking it–but he continues on. This was about giving, and he wants him to know he’s willing to give all he’s got.
When Zoro pulls away, the blonde has a flushed face. He opens his eyes slowly as their gaze locks together. His cheeks were red and wet from his own tears. The swordsman feels relief as it was the first healthy colour on his skin that he’d seen on the man since they reunited that morning.
Slowly and tenderly, Sanji slides his hands from his shoulders to cup his face and pulls him close. Zoro hugs him around the small of his waist as he closes his eye.
The next thing he knows, the blonde yanks him back by the face then jerks their heads together to deliver a punishing headbutt against his forehead.
Zoro
ACK–!
The swordsman reels, but before he could catch his balance, Sanji grips his shirt by the shoulders to deliver a swift kick between his legs.
Law winces at the sight and hisses behind his teeth. A hand shoots up to cover his mouth.
Zoro grimaces and falls on his knees before dropping to the ground as he holds onto his groin. He rolls to the side, writhing in pain from both his head and lower regions.
Zoro
What the hell, Dartbrows?!
Sanji lights a cigarette then steps over him smoothly to walk away.
Sanji
I told you not to fuckin’ touch me.
The doctor approaches Zoro calmly. He watches the swordsman rock himself side to side, hissing, as if that will soothe the pain. When the man eventually stills, he offers a hand to him.
Law
Not going to lie…you kinda deserved that. A little.
Zoro furrows at him with furious eyes but takes his hand anyway. He gets pulled up onto his feet. His legs almost give out but he manages to stay up, albeit wobbling in place.
Zoro
Thanks, asshole. How is that supposed to make me feel better?
Law
It’s not. I meant to add insult to injury. Literally.
Zoro
Some doctor you are….
The swordsman growls at him. He attempts to straighten up but he can still feel the remnants of the impact pulsating through his body.
Law turns his attention to the blonde who is now standing way ahead of them, waiting for them to catch up.
Law
Good job, Zoro-ya.
Zoro
Wh-what?
Law
At least he’s… feeling things now.
Zoro follows Law’s eyes and sees Sanji standing uphill. The man is looking around, finally taking in the scenery as he smokes his cigarette. His blonde hair flow gracefully in the wind.
Zoro
Yeah… I guess.
The swordsman felt relief but his heart sank at remembering the blonde’s words. He wonders to himself if this truly is the end of the line. His gaze lowers sadly to the ground. He feels Law pat him on the shoulder a couple of times before walking past him to continue leading the way forwards.
Sanji paid close attention to the environment in front of him. His body was angled so half of his vision sees the untouched, peaceful meadow while the other half was the part he destroyed. He takes a long drag of his smoke and closes his eyes. He let the memories of the previous night flood into his mind one last time before he knew he’d have to stow it away to make way for the worst ahead of them.
Doflamingo drags Sanji’s naked form by the hair into the brig of the Numancia Flamingo which is docked discreetly in the outskirts of Skypiea, somewhere in the White Sea. His hands have been covered and bound tight with indestructible strings to restrain him. He’s fully aware that the Warlord knew his weaknesses and he liked to take advantage of it. His neck strained from the jerking movements, and his scalp felt like it would tear away from his own head from the Warlord's pull.
Sanji
D–Doffy–it hurts!
Doflamingo
Do you know how much trouble I had to go through to get Celestial Dragons off you and your precious swordsman's backs after the stunt you pulled at Sabaody?
He throws the blonde aggressively into a dark cell where Sanji lands hard against the wall before falling onto the cold hardwood floor. He tries to recover quickly by propping himself up, crawling backwards and away from the man. 
Sanji
Doffy, please, let’s just ta–
The Warlord closes in on him and delivers a swift kick to the face to silence him, earning him a cut over his lips. He then forces the blonde's legs open wide by pinning him down using the same foot. He flicks his fingers in the air to bind the blonde's thighs against his calves. With a swirl of his own hand, strings hoist him off the ground, suspending his body from the ceiling in the middle of the room.
Sanji trembles at the painful binds and shivers at the chilly sensation between his legs. He coughs out blood from the back of his throat, nearly choking from it. He pants deep heavy breaths.
Sanji
Don't… do this…
Doflamingo
Do you know how much I had to give up to buy you? I couldn't even get full ownership.
Sanji
Wh–what? What do you mean buy…?
Doffy, what did you–AH!
Sanji grimaces at the sudden intrusion of Doflamingo’s long thick finger inside of him. His back arches involuntarily to try and get away from it. The other man wasn’t gentle, nor considerate. He pumped his digit in and out, loosening him in a rush with interest just for himself. 
Doflamingo
Hmm…I see you’ve been busy already. Do I have Roronoa Zoro to thank for preparing you for me?
The blonde tenses. He gives him a nasty glare and spits at his face. Doflamingo stills.
Sanji
Go to hell, you prick.
Sanji knows that he was well and truly in trouble when he sees it–the Warlord’s grin and laughter which sends shivers up his spine and makes his hair stand on end. When he looks down, he sees the other man's bulging erection in his pants.
Doflamingo
I love it when you talk like that to me.
He starts fucking him with his fingers fast, adding in a second then third digit, one after another with very little patience.
Sanji hisses at the sting. It felt like his ring was on fire. He feels himself open up but it's happening too fast, too dry.
Sanji
What–what do you want from me?
Doflamingo hums, considering the question.
Doflamingo
A discussion for later. There's something that I need you to do.
For now…
Finally, he pulls out. Sanji’s legs twitch involuntarily but the lack of intrusion brings him a small amount of relief. He tries to stabilise himself by taking in long steady breaths but his heart was thumping like mad.
Sanji
Doffy… please don’t.
The Warlord unzips his trousers and whips out his overly large cock. With the blonde suspended from the ceiling, his dick is already perfectly aligned with his rim. He gives it a couple of pumps then slaps Sanji's entrance with it, teasing him.
The blonde snarls and attempts to break free from his binds by thrashing around, tossing and tilting his body however he can.
Doflamingo
You know that fighting me only gets me going.
Sanji
I will always fight if it’s against my will.
And the moment I break free, I will finally fuckin’ end you.
Doflamingo
Mmm… that’s it… talk just like that, my pet.
Doflamingo grips Sanji’s jaws with his large hand and forces him to look at him face to face, keeping his body still.
Doflamingo
But now, don’t move around too much like a good boy, and this’ll be better for the both of us.
Sanji feels him attempt to insert his dick so he jerks his own head back and bites his hand, breaking his skin.
Doflamingo
AH–! MOTHER FU–
The blonde gets dropped roughly on the floor. He winces at the soreness of his joints but he powers through the pain and crawls away with his elbows, dragging himself across the floor. Just before he could make his way on the other side of the bars, the Warlord’s foot stomps mere inches away from his face, cracking the floor underneath him. He stops in fear that his skull would be next.
Doflamingo
Clearly, you’ve been left running around at your own accord for far too long.
He releases the binds around his legs then reaches out to grab him by the crown of his hair, hoisting him off the ground. The blonde cries out in pain.
Doflamingo
So help me, I'll have my money's worth. You've cost me greatly.
Sanji
I didn’t ask to be sold and bought!
Doflamingo drops him to fall on his knees, then swings his hand across to slap him hard, almost knocking him out. When Sanji’s body flimsily collapses to the side, the Warlord catches him by the back of his neck with a bruising grip. This time, he turns him away from him. He flicks his wrist to raise and hold the blonde’s arms up by strings so his frail body hangs lifelessly in front of him. With his long pointed tongue, he gives him a wet lick from the nape of his neck, then up to his face where he bites his earlobe before whispering.
Doflamingo
I own you now, Pirate King. Your mind, your body and your soul. 
Sanji can barely keep his eyes open at that point. Blood trickled down the side of his mouth from the inside. He coughs out blood again. Weakly, he replies as best as he can with a raspy voice.
Sanji
No.
Doflamingo pauses, raising a brow.
Sanji
I am…my own man.
I will always… fight for freedom–for myself and everyone who needs it. I only allied with you…to get Seastones and the names of people who deserve no mercy.
And…you. You are one of them.
When I get out of here, I will end you and your fuckin’ kingdom.
Doflamingo grins widely as he yanks his hair back. Sanji yelps at the sudden pain and motion. The Warlord buries his nose in his blonde locks then trails it down his neck, taking a long whiff of his scent.
Doflamingo
Mmm…you forget who's on the leash here, pet. Tell me, is this how you really want to play this?
Sanji
I will never stop fighting, Doflamingo. You can do all what you want with my body, but you can’t break me to thinking I’m yours to claim.
The Warlord pauses, then he chuckles that sinister, malicious laugh of his.
Doflamingo
I knew you’d say that.
He tosses something heavy on the floor. It clunks against the prison cell and slides, stopping directly in Sanji’s view. The blonde had to squint his eyes to try and work out the shape in the dark. When his sight adjusts, his eyes fill with horror and his jaw slacks open as he recognises a large chunk of Niji’s helmet before him.
Doflamingo licks his pointed tongue into his ear which sends chills throughout his body. He watches the blonde gape at the item, satisfied with his reaction.
Doflamingo
Let’s try this again…shall we?
The Warlord waves his hand and Sanji is fully released from all his binds. He drops to the floor on his fours. The blonde looks up to the piece of helmet once more, his mind running through different terrible scenarios of what may have happened.
Doflamingo
I will keep it nice and clear for you.
You do what I say, and I don’t kill your brother.
Sanji
N–no…no, you wouldn’t.
Doflamingo
Do you really want to test me?
Sanji freezes at that. After a moment of silence, his head dips down in defeat as his gaze turns to the side.
Doflamingo kneels directly behind him. He snakes his hands over the blonde's back then up to his neck to wrap his hands around it. While choking him, he pulls him up onto his own thigh to align dick against the rim of his ass.
Doflamingo
Now, let’s see how much you’ve learnt.
When I say, suck my dick, you say…?
The blonde’s lips quiver and his body trembles madly as fear slowly overtakes him. He shuts his eyes tight, knowing full well that the next words he will say is going to change his entire life forever. With a broken voice, he replies.
Sanji
Yes, Doffy.
Doflamingo inserts his cock into his tight entrance. Sanji grips onto the steel prison bars in front of him. He grits his teeth, trying to endure the pain as quietly as he can, not wanting to give the man any more satisfaction than he already has.
Doflamingo
When I say, jerk yourself off in front of the Levely, you say…?
The Warlord continues pushing himself inside, slowly but forcefully. With barely any preparation, Doflamingo’s monstrous size stretches his walls and tears his rim. He feels blood trickle down his violently shaking legs. Sanji’s eyes start welling up in tears from the pain. With a half sobbing voice, he replies.
Sanji
Y–yes…Doffy.
Doflamingo
Good boy.
Then he slams into him almost at full length. The blonde screams and leans his forehead against the prison bars.
Doflamingo
Now…I want you to think of your swordsman.
Sanji
Wh–what…?
Doflamingo thrusts inside him hard and deep once more, trying to forcefully fit his whole cock inside him, causing the blonde to cry out loud.
Doflamingo
You heard me.
I want you to think of his dick deep inside you.
Sanji
Doffy, please! I don’t want to think of him this way–
Doflamingo starts a brutal rhythm of slow but deep thrusts. Sanji screams at every push. He tried to hold back his voice at one point but was punished with a stinging spank, causing him to yelp out. The impact bruises his skin.
Doflamingo
Tell me what the swordsman does to you that you like the most.
Sanji’s tears start flowing. He sniffs once to try and compose himself, reminding himself that this is for his brother.
Doflamingo
Talk, Sanji.
Sanji
I like it when…AH–when he plays with my nipples….
Satisfied with his answer, Doflamingo increases his pace. The Warlord's large hands snake from his neck down to his front and plays with his pecs, teasing and pulling his nipples.
Sanji
Do–Doffy…you're too big. It hurts–it really hurts!!!
Doflamingo
Keep talking. You’ve only said one thing so far. How do you like taking him?
Sanji's breath hitches as he thinks of how the swordsman had fucked him during the last several weeks they had been together.
Sanji
I like it–ah–when I’m on a table and–he goes down on me–before we–AH–DOFFY, NO, PLEASE!!!
The Warlord leans forwards and drops Sanji down on the floor while keeping his legs wrapped around his own hips. He splays a hand over his back, pinning the blonde’s upper body onto the cold surface. The changed angle deepens the penetration in which Sanji begins sobbing out loud. A pool of blood forms onto the hardwood below them. Doflamingo’s pace becomes fast and relentless. 
Doflamingo
Give me more, my pet. Tell me more.
His own voice hitches as he nears his climax. His breath quickens as he fucks into the blonde senselessly.
Sanji feels himself peak as well. With every ounce and fibre of his being, he tries to resist.
Sanji
I–I…like it when I get to look into his eyes when he cums. When I call his name, I really want him to call mine too–
Doflamingo
Fuck, yes. When I cum in you, I want you to scream his name.
Sanji
P–Please–please, no–
Doflamingo tips forward slightly and releases his back to grip a bruising hold onto his hips, pushing hard into him with every thrust. His full length pounds painfully deep. When Sanji looks up, he realises that had been forced down on this position so he can see the part of Niji’s helmet that the Warlord had somehow taken into possession.
Doflamingo groans as he peaks.
Doflamingo
Shit… I'm gonna…
It all felt wrong but the blonde steels his heart.
Sanji
Hah–Z–Zoro… Zoro…
Zoro
Sanji, I'm gonna cum…ah–Sanji…
The swordsman’s raspy gentle voice echoes in the room. It grounds Sanji–comforts him–reassures him. He eases into the new sensation, craving his affection.
Sanji
Make a mess of me, baby…please. Say my name, say it.
Zoro
F-Fuck–Sanji… Sanji…
Sanji
Zoro…!
Doflamingo cries out the blonde's name as he pumps into him, spilling a generous load deep inside. The blonde follows shortly, producing barely anything prior to his earlier activities with–
Sanji's lips quiver in terror as he realises that his own mind had betrayed him. It had swapped the devil himself with an illusion of his precious Marimo. He can still feel the Warlord pumping into him.
Doflamingo pulls out with a slow guttural growl, causing the blonde to moan at the sudden loss of his length inside him. He feels the mix of the man's overflowing juices and his own blood spill down his thighs as the Warlord releases him from his hold.
Doflamingo 
Now…wasn't that fun?
Sanji scampers on the floor away from him. He sits up, leaning against the prison bars for support.
Sanji
You fucking asshole.
Doflamingo
My dear…
Doflamingo stands tall and drops his large feather coat on the ground. He strips off his shirt then drops his pants on the floor.
Doflamingo 
We're just getting started.
Voice
Mr. Prince-ya.
Hey…let's keep moving.
Sanji forces his eyes to open slowly as he feels the chilly wind on his face. He almost reels as he returns his attention back to reality. When he looks to his side, he sees Law next to him. Down the hill, the swordsman had kept his distance, his gaze focused at the misshapen land of what used to be the meadow.
Sanji
Law…
Law
Yes…?
Sanji
Are you sure you want to keep going?
Law narrows his eyes suspiciously at that.
Law
Is there something you want to tell me?
Sanji takes a long drag of his smoke, thinking of the right response. When he breathes out, he walks past him.
Sanji
No. I’m just checking.
Law
I see.
The swordsman eventually joins Law and they watch the blonde walk ahead of them. The doctor whispers quietly.
Law
He’d been broken.
Zoro
…I know.
Law
Get ready for anything.
Zoro clenches his fists. He holds onto Wado to stabilise himself but he allows anger to flow through his veins.
Zoro
I am.
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rubywillkins · 3 days ago
Text
Oscar piastri| Crossed line
Pairing oscar × fema!e reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary It involves oscar and y/n navigating a tense moment in their relationship, eventually leading to reconciliation
The soft hum of the hotel air conditioning was the only sound filling the room as y/n crossed her arms, staring out of the window at the glittering Monaco skyline. Behind her, Oscar, the F1 driver who had stolen her heart, sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his damp hair. The tension between them was palpable, crackling like static electricity.
"I told you it's nothing," Oscar said, his voice weary. "She's just a journalist. It's her job to ask questions."
Y/n turned sharply, her dark eyes flashing with frustration. "It wasn't just the questions, oscar. It was the way she leaned in, the way she laughed at everything you said. And you-" Her voice cracked. "You didn't even pull back."
He exhaled heavily. "You're blowing this out of proportion. I didn't do anything wrong."
"You let her touch your arm," she accused, her voice rising. "In front of everyone! How do you think that makes me feel?"
Oscar stood, his tall frame towering over her. "I didn't even notice," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "y/n, I love you. Not her. Not anyone else. You."
Her resolve wavered, but her jealousy and insecurity still clung stubbornly. "Sometimes it feels like I'm just... invisible to you when we're around those people."
His expression softened, and he took a step closer. "You're never invisible to me. Never." He reached for her hand, but she pulled away, her frustration morphing into hurt.
"I need some air," she muttered, grabbing her jacket and heading for the door.
"Y/n, wait-"
But the door clicked shut before he could finish.
---
The night passed slowly for both of them. Oscar paced the room, replaying their argument in his head, while y/n wandered the quiet streets, the cool breeze doing little to ease her turmoil.
When she finally returned hours later, the room was dimly lit. Oscar was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. He looked up as the door opened, his green eyes filled with a mixture of relief and exhaustion.
"You came back," he said softly.
She dropped her jacket on the chair and stood awkwardly by the door. "I shouldn't have walked out. I just... I didn't know how to handle it."
He rose and crossed the room, stopping just a foot away from her. "I hate seeing you like this. I hate that I made you feel this way."
Her eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. "I was being stupid."
"No, you weren't," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You were being honest. And I should have listened better."
She looked up at him, her lips trembling as she whispered, "I just want to feel like I'm enough for you."
"You are," he murmured, stepping closer and cupping her face in his hands. "You've always been enough for me."
His lips met hers, and for a moment, the world melted away. The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with unspoken apologies.
Y/n breath hitched as oscar's hands slid from her cheeks to waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened, his lips capturing hers with a new found urgency. Her Fingers curled into the soft fabric of his shirt, tugging him even closer.
"Do you even have any idea what you mean to me?" He murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough.
Her response was a soft whimper as his hands roamed her back, drawing shivers from her. The anger and tension feom earlier dissolved, replaced by an electric charge that seemed to fill the air around them.
"You'ee everything, y/n", he whispered, his lips brushing along her jawline and down her neck. "I don't want anyone elese ever."
Her head tilted back, giving him more access as his lios traced a fiery path along her skin. " Show me", she breathed , heer voice barely audible but filled with need.
Oscar didn't need further encouragement . In one swift motion, he lifted her, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. She gasped as her back pressed against the cool wall, jis body pinning her securely.
"You drive me carzy you know that?" He said, his breath hot against her ear. His hands slid beneath her shirt, his fingers tracing the soft curves of her waist.
"Good", she replied, her tome teasing despite the fire in her gaze. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him in for another searing kiss.
The heat between them grew as he carried her to the bed, their movements increasingly desperate. Clothes were discarded piece by piece, each reveal met with lingering touches and whispered affirmations.
"You're so beautiful," Oscar said, his voice thick with desire as he hovered over her. His hands explored her body, mapping every inch like it was the first time.
Her breaths came fasted her body arching into his touch. "Oscar," she whispered, her voice laced with both longing and impatience.
His lips curled into a smile as he leaned down, his mouth capturing hers once more. "I've got you," he promised, his voice a husky murmur. "I'll always have you."
Their body moved together in a rythm as old as time, the intimacy between them reigniting their connection. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was reminder of love they shared - a love that could withstand even the fiercest storms
When they finally lay tangled together in the aftermath, their breaths uneven and thier hearts racing, Oscar brushed a strand of hair from y/n's face and kissed her forhead.
"No more jelousy", he murmured.
She smiled softly, her fingerss tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "No more journalists flirting with you"
He chuckled, pulling her closer.
"Deal"
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skimmingmilk · 2 days ago
Note
Any Shadow and Tails hcs?
Sorry this took a minute, anon! I had written up several headcanons a few days ago and then my browser crashed and I lost everything I wrote ^^;; it took a minute to find the motivation to write them up again. 
I wasn't sure if you only wanted headcanons of Shadow and Tails in relation to each other, or if you wanted separate ones for them as well, so I tried to think of a little of both! 
Shadow:
Though black coffee is his drink of choice, Shadow also enjoys a cup of rooibos tea when he's looking for something a little more relaxing. Decaffeinated coffee doesn't quite do it for him. And he only drinks his coffee hot. He judges Rouge whenever she gets an iced latte.
He's very good at painting nails, but only Rouge knows this. She's the only one he'll offer to do it for - and it's always in exchange for something like intel or tech. He learned how for the bad days where Maria couldn't keep her hands steady and got frustrated. He'd paint her nails so she could feel pretty.
Shadow likes Barry Manilow (this is mostly a joke xD …mostly). But seriously, I do think he enjoys listening to a wide variety of music though. He was limited to what tapes they had on the ARK, a lot of it whatever the scientists and Maria liked listening to, so he enjoys experiencing different genres of music just to get a feel for them. He doesn’t necessarily like all music, but there’s something to be said for just experiencing it, even if he doesn’t like it. He’s also intrigued by live music, especially since Maria was just starting to learn to play guitar when her parents sent one up with the supply ship for her twelfth birthday. That was the only experience he'd had with live music until arriving on Mobius.
Tails:
Though he drinks coffee, he does it out of pure necessity. His taste buds are still a kid's, after all, so he loads up his caffeine with sugar, flavored syrups, whipped cream, and marshmallows. When he discovers cold brew, he finds that a bit more palatable since the beans aren't made as bitter by the heat when roasting them, but he still needs flavors and cream. He actually prefers energy drinks if he’s looking for a caffeine boost, but coffee makes him feel more grown-up. Yes, even with the marshmallows.
He doesn’t read as much fiction as Sonic, but he does have a pretty large collection of comic books and graphic novels. There are some series he’s followed since he was little, which offer a bit of stability/familiarity for him when not much was a constant in his life aside from Sonic and fighting Eggman.
When he was little, Tails begged Sonic to teach him guitar. He was quickly embarrassed though, because it wasn’t something he took to naturally. They made a little progress, but as he got older he stopped asking for lessons as much, so Sonic assumed he lost interest. But sometimes when he knows Sonic’s not going to be around for a while, Tails will take out the guitar and practice by himself, though he never tells Sonic about it.
Shadow and Tails:
Shadow doesn’t actually have beef with Tails. When Team Dark came across Team Sonic in Sonic Heroes for the first time since the events of SA2 and started fighting, Shadow identified Tails as their aerial support and would save his teammates from falling into the jungle river. He also picked up on the fact that Sonic’s battle tactics focused primarily on protecting his team, and that he was holding back from full-out attacking Shadow. Part of him wanted to see that blue hedgehog’s full potential, though he couldn't really pinpoint why at the time. So it was a strategic decision to take out Tails first by kicking him in the head, nothing personal.
Scratch that, Shadow does have beef with him whenever he catches Tails drinking cold brew (this is also a joke lol, if he didn't fight the kid over putting marshmallows in his coffee, he's not gonna fight him over cold brew).
Tails has better accuracy than Shadow with a firearm, but Shadow is a quicker draw and has a faster reaction time. They both prefer to use non-lethal ammunition as a method of stunning opponents, though the Tornado and Cyclone do have lethal weaponry systems, however, since Tails often needs as much firepower as possible when going against Eggman’s air fleet. But those are just robots, so it's okay!
Tails is one of the few people who knows Shadow’s “birthday,” or at least, his “creation day.” He learned it by going through G.U.N.’s files when Amy asked him to, because she really, really wanted to know when his birthday was. He only looked it up after she promised not to throw a party for Shadow (she wasn’t going to, Tails, she just wanted to get him a card and a little gift!). Rouge is the only other person who knows his birthday - also from G.U.N.’s files - but she knows Shadow doesn’t want to be fussed over too much, so keeps everything low-key as well.
I think that's enough for now! I feel like I'm not as good at writing up headcanons independently as I am incorporating them into fics, but I hope this was along the lines of what you were looking for, anon! If you have more specifics hcs you're curious about, let me know :)
Thank you for the ask!
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snailsgoingdowntown · 2 days ago
Text
Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Leads Sister-in-Law! 
1  2  3  4  5  6  7
Chapter 8
‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader 
Arranged marriage AU
Warnings: panic attack, vomit, self-harm (biting thumb hard enough until it bleeds), slight blood, mention/allusions to murder, very slight suicide  ideation, one (1) suggestive line, implied child abuse, Maria being lowkey creepy (again), uncertainty about loving future kids, please tell me if I missed any.
NOTE: while I am happy that people enjoy this story, please stop blowing up my inbox about when the next chapter(s) will come out. Or telling me I should hurry up.  Thank you.
NOTE #2: there isn't going to be any romance involving Roxana or any of the other characters and the reader.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS/TOXIC ACTIONS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.
MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/ BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACTION WITH NOR REBLOG FANDOM STUFF DNI (MAYBE ANIMAL BLOGS ARE OKAY BECAUSE THEY’RE CUTE). PLEASE DO NO NOT SPAM LIKE MY POSTS.
= = = 
Roxana’s heels clack against the tiled hallway as she glides through, making way to her room. Blond waves gently bouncing with each step, the girl can’t hold back the scowl that tears at her lips. Brows furrowed, her thoughts were full of the recent events - the dinner. 
She didn’t mean to intrude. As a matter of fact, while curious, she had no intention of doing more than taking a quick glance - to see if what Jeremy said was true, that Dion Agriche was indeed having dinner with his poor, pitiful bride. 
Jeremy got there before her.
Hiding within the shadows, the boy was glaring daggers into the second eldest son. So engrossed with the scene presented to him, Jeremy didn’t notice Roxana as she got closer and closer. No, the brash boy had announced himself before she could even pat his shoulder. Like a wild boar, he interrupted your dinner, uncaring for how it made him look. Not that he ever did.
And perhaps out of pity on your behalf, or sick curiosity to see how everything pans out, she showed herself as well. 
An hour prior to the incident Roxana and Jeremy talked about you, the newest family member. She wasn’t the one who brought you up, but rather Jeremy. Her younger half-brother had asked her what she thought about the situation. It was the first time he asked. 
‘Well… It is strange. I thought that father would have waited longer before finding Dion a wife, much less holding the wedding.’
‘Yeah,’ Jeremy agrees, a borderline sneer on his face, ‘but it’s stupid. She won’t last long.’ 
‘Shorter than a month?’
‘No, longer. But I’m not sure how much longer. Still, to be married to that bastard… She's fucked. Pretty sure she’s begging God to kill her already, or to keep him away and indifferent.’ 
The blond beauty stared at her brother in question. ‘This isn’t like you, Jeremy. Did you meet her before or is it because Dion is the one involved?’ 
He doesn’t answer immediately, grumbling out words she didn’t catch. ‘Watch, she’s going to puke in disgust soon.’ Blue eyes narrowing in annoyance, Roxana only becomes more confused. What’s with this sudden interest with a sacrificial bride? 
‘Jeremy,’ she says, gingerly patting his head, ‘This is the first time you’ve shown interest in anyone. Why is that?’ Asking him directly, she hopes that she’ll easily draw answers from him. But, for once, he doesn’t budge. It’s concerning. 
‘Xana, I heard they’re going to have dinner together later today. Do you think that guy will show up?’ Ignoring her question, he asks his own. A frown tugs at her coral lips. But seeing how aggravated he is, she decides to humor him. Just this once. 
‘I’m not sure. If it was on father’s orders, then yes, of course. His word is law.’ 
‘What makes you so sure he’ll listen to all?’
She blinks at him, taken aback. It wasn’t often she gets rendered speechless, especially by her own younger brother. But his response also amuses her - hearing his resentment towards the twenty-year-old was always amusing.. 
‘Xana, he’s crazy. It’s only going to get worse.’
Before Roxana could respond, she got called away to Lant’s office, the butler bowing nervously after he brought the news. 
Returning to the present, the blond lets out a deep sigh, a headache forming the longer she thinks about it. This wasn’t how the story went. There wasn’t a grand wedding for any of the Agriche family members - the closest thing was when Jeremy kidnapped Sylvia, and even then, that couldn’t be considered romantic.  
Nothing in the story was romantic. 
…not like her brother’s marriage to you was either. 
Nothing made sense and it’s bothersome. Concerning even, for the moment you entered this play, she became unsure of when or if Cassis will show up - what if nothing follows the storyline at all, no matter how small? She knows he exists, she saw him at the wedding. Shining silver hair that reminds her of the moon and golden eyes that were filled to the brim with caution towards her family and the wedding, the male lead of this story exists. 
But you didn’t. 
Maybe in the original work, you did, as a nameless background character. Faith unknown and unimportant, you somehow stumbled across the stage, entangled in strings that now control your every move. It worries her - you worry her. Roxana can’t tell if you’re friend or foe, if you’ll survive and stay sane, if you’ll die soon, if she should consider taking you under her wing, seeing how you were nothing more than a victim. 
But she doesn’t have that luxury. Ensuring her own survival was hard enough - how could she take care of a second person? Why should she bother herself with you? 
You don’t serve any other purpose than being arm candy, a woman seen as nothing more than an incubator by your father-in-law. She doubts Dion cares for you; during the planning period he didn’t act out of character. He acted the same around her, still the annoying son of a bitch he’s always been. 
…but, a few days before the wedding he kept his distance. Unconcerned with her presence, he made a few last minute purchases. Away from the prying eyes of Lant, Dion also added a secret guest - the doctor known as Ash Katopodis. 
She heard a rumor that he also sent the redhead to you instead of the doctor Lant had appointed. The fifteen-year-old had found it strange once word reached her ears, brushing it to the side after concluding it was gossip for gossip sake. While it was bold of the servants to say such things, Roxana saw no point in punishing them for their senseless rumors - it had nothing to do with her. If they wanted to play with their lives with risky talk, then that was on them.
Upon reaching her room, she stops short of opening the door, manicured nails tapping against the door handle. She didn’t mean to intrude on your alone time with the brute. Yet she did and the sight of Dion in such a domestic setting made her sick. 
Disgust threatening to tip over the scale, it’s hard for her not to sneer at the mere memory of it. Domesticity does not suit Dion. He does not deserve it. Playing house with an unwilling girl, dressed in pure white as the veil hid her anxiety and fright laid within her eyes and painted on her lips. Scared and left hopeless as her family watched as she kissed the monster, powerless.
The holy church in which the wedding was held became corrupted when the second Lant Agriche picked it out, Maria fussing over the details. Who sits where, ‘gently’ probing your mother into agreeing with the dress the third wife had picked, your makeup and hairstyle, the fucking lingerie until Sierra pointed out how weird it was for the mother-in-law to pick out such an erotic and intimate thing for the girl who was to be her daughter-in-law. 
During the ceremony, Jeremy had kept mumbling to himself, clearly done with the whole ordeal. Obviously, Roxana was as well, but kept a pretty smile on, greeting you after the vows were said and said her goodbyes as you were dragged away to the bridal chamber. Only to find the morning after by Hana that you didn’t go there, instead led into the lion’s den that is Dion’s room.
How… odd. 
No… what was odder was that you didn’t have separate rooms. Emily had told her as such out of the blue, preparing her breakfast. She questioned it then, and it’s only weirder, more worrisome the longer she thinks about it.
She shakes the memories away. It wasn’t her life. She had enough trouble on her plate already - she couldn’t possibly add you to the list of her neverending responsibilities she’s forced to juggle. She could pity you, but never love you. Touch you but never hold you. Talk to you but never make a genuine connection as sisters should. 
She should stop with this foolish nonsense. 
Turning the handle, she glides right in, letting the door shut behind her. Emily had retired for the night, and the blond also ordered Hana to do the same. After all, Lant had given Dion another mission, and the favorite son had to prepare to leave in the morning, too busy to bother you. 
… why am I so focused on her…?
The moonlight lights up her room through the glass doors that lead to the terrace. With a huff, she sits in her vanity, and starts to remove her makeup with removal cream. It’s greasy as her dainty fingers spread it across her face, each action copied by the mirror. It’s quiet.
Her thoughts refuse to shut up, however. 
‘What’s going on with Lant…? Choosing a daughter-in-law from a nearly unheard of family? Do they have something he wants and only used this marriage  as a means to get closer? Most likely, but why?’
A frown tugs at her lips, face completely bare after she pats it down with a face towel. Ruby eyes stare into the reflection before her, and Roxana only sees frustration and confusion. She can’t rely on her memories of the story anymore. 
She won’t be sure until the faithful day when her father kidnaps Cassis Pedelian, the Blue Heir. And even then, how could she be sure that it would be the same Cassis Pedelain that was mentioned in the novel? The same goes for his sister, Sylvia. 
“...things are getting complicated.” Standing, her feet take her to the bed and she lays on it, back pressed against the mattress. The crystal chandelier sparkles in the moonlight. Ruby optics disappear behind her eyelids, blond lashes casting shadows on skin. The night is still young. 
A small smile of amusement forms on her lips when she remembers your earlier conversation. You had called her an interesting person - far from what others say. They called her lovely, a Goddess of beauty - and you? 
You called her interesting.
Still, you couldn’t hide the admiration for her in your eyes. You weren’t a stumbling fool and understood what her look meant when Jeremy went too far. But the most fascinating thing?
You listened to mental caution and drew a line, uncomfortable with her, with them, the gears turning in your head on what to do next. You even separated yourself from her without hesitation once the moment presented itself.
Regardless, you admired her in spite of your clear discomfort. 
“...I must be tired.” 
You called her an interesting person. In return, she’ll call you a fool. 
- - -
His side of the bed was cold, patting it as your bleary eyes and murky mind clear up. Still dressed in the half undone dress and corset, you ignore how uncomfortable it is. No, right now, what you are focused on is the way your beating heart is thrashing against your rib cage, how cold your body has become, beads of sweat building and rolling down your temples, on the verge of gasping for air. Did you just fuck yourself over? 
You don’t know what time it was - sun high in the bright, blue sky, birds singing their lovely tunes. The occasional footsteps passing by, the far off voices as the servants go about their business. None of them knock on the door. None come to ‘wake’ you up.
Or, if they had, it must have been a good while ago. Were you so deep asleep that they gave up?
“...He’s going to kill me, isn’t he… hah…” a humorless laugh passes through your chest, shoulders slumping as nothing but regret fills your head and chest. Are you going to be killed today? Or maybe tortured? Thrown out like disgusting leftovers? 
You don’t want to die. Ah, but what could you possibly do? Get on your hands and knees like a dog and beg for forgiveness? …no. You’re already pathetic enough, you don’t want to lower yourself even more. Fuck. 
“...Ah, fuck, what should I do?” Putting your thumb sideways in your mouth, your teeth clamp down on the poor digit. The taste of iron explodes in your mouth, teeth marks left behind on the now wounded and bleeding flesh. 
A throbbing headache decides to join, adding physical pain to the list of your suffering. You bite down on your thumb harder. It feels like it might just snap in two but your mind is too fried to realize this. The only thing you can think about is last night. 
Your husband was gone. Where did he go? Maybe he decided to leave you, seeing you as a broken toy he doesn’t want anymore. Does that mean he’ll give the least back to Lant? Is that why he isn’t here? To discuss how to dispose of you? 
The thought makes your stomach churn, saliva glands overfilling as bile starts to raise. You were given to them as a pet - as some twisted sacrifice, and for what? Did this family want nothing else but a new ‘toy,’ to see how long a normal person would last within these walls? What then?
If they decide to kill you, or if you kill yourself out of desperation, what would they tell your parents? No, they wouldn’t tell them anything to begin with. 
And your family wouldn’t be able to ask.
“Urk…” dry heaving, slapping your hand over your mouth, panicked tears forming. Your entire body shakes, blood staining the bed as your injured hand grasps at the sheets. “URK!” Without a thought you rush out of bed, slamming yourself down on your knees as you reach the trash can. All of your stomach continents come up, the foul taste of vomit coming forth. 
Hot tears run down your cheeks as you heave over the trash, blurring your vision. You’re breathing too heavily. You look at the door a few feet away from you. If anyone was right outside it, they would have heard you. 
“...” you wait for a knock or for someone to burst through the doors with bated breath, your eyes shaking in their sockets, knees throbbing after the harsh impact. No-one comes. It is only you - alone in this room, a sinner who is paying the price. Must you go through this for a sin you’ve forgotten until now? 
The answer is yes. 
The answer is yes as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. The answer is yes as you force yourself to stand, knees painfully throbbing as the flesh bruises. The answer is yes as your thumb still bleeds, teeth marks engraved into the skin. The answer is yes as your heart refuses to calm down, chest hurting. 
The answer is yes as you walk over to the vanity, the reflection of a face that doesn’t look like your own. 
You are a mess. 
The tears don’t stop flowing as the urge to vomit returns. Crystalline droplets catch on your lashes, ugly sobs and hiccups breaking out, your shoulders shaking as you collapse onto the leather stool seat. A sinner always pays the price. 
You bury your face into your hands, entire body jerking with each sob, each hiccup as anxiety for the future and present overtakes everything. This isn’t like you. But you were never strong enough to survive in an environment like this. You were pathetic. 
Seconds turn into minutes and maybe even into hours. Time is a concept that you don’t bother yourself with by the time you finally calm down, red puffy eyes staring into the mirror as the tear streaks dry on your cheeks. Some snot peeks out from your nostril, hair a mess, clothes crumbled and sliding down, showing more of your cleavage. Such an unsightly sight. 
Grabbing a face towel on the vanity desk, you wipe off the tears and snot.
“...Okay. Let’s… get cleaned up.” Your limbs feel heavy, dragging your feet towards the closet before finally, finally striping out of your clothes from yesterday. The articles of clothing pools at your feet. 
How much longer can I last here? 
Will there ever be a peaceful divorce? Can I divorce him? Would I be able to?
If the story events do take place and Roxana takes over the Agriche family… by then… would I have children…?
BAM!
Your poor knees-! At the thought of having children - his children - your body just gives up again, as always. That’s the only thing you’re capable of, as experience has shown. 
“...children… right, children… I have to give that man kids… kids that will go through the same thing he went through…” Will you be able to love them, if they come into existence? You have to, they would be yours.
Or would you end up just like Jeremy’s mother? Horrified at the sight of her own child, refusing to spend time with them. Seeing them as an irredeemable monster that you would do anything and everything to avoid?
Chomp. 
Your thumb once again becomes a victim to your teeth, the imprint becoming deeper and drawing more blood.  It hurts, it hurts, it hurts- but as the thought of starting a family with Dion Agriche deepens, the more you need to find something sturdy. Your thumb is enough to keep you grounded, yes, it is, and no, you’re not planning an early funeral, visualizing the area you want to hold it, or the dress your cold corpse would wear, or your family’s crying faces -
No, stop it. This isn’t - this isn’t… this isn’t what I want to be.
 Licking the flesh wound, accepting the taste and smell of iron, you are not met with clarity nor bravery; just, temporary acceptance. This is your life. This was what the Gods had planned for you. This is what you have become - a wife to the future Black Agriche Heir. 
His first wife.
Despite the blood and saliva, your mouth feels dry. Nausea builds back up, gagging and breath becoming short. It’s becoming hard to breathe. 
Your lungs are being squeezed, throat constricted with an invisible ball gag - vision blurred with what? What’s this hot liquid running down your cheeks? Are you crying ? Again?
Something is choking you. Your head is starting to feel fuzzy, a pounding in your chest you can’t get. Everything is warped, shapes turning into mush, black merging with white, a hammer bashing against your head. Only the sound of rushing blood and a running heart is heard. Only the thought of death remains. 
“No…no, I - I - this-!” you curl into yourself, kneeling as your forehead touches the floor, hands interlocked around your head as your lower arms and elbows rest on the tiles. Sobbing violently, your mind crashes again. You were never strong. 
Not then, not now. 
- - -
“Young Master Dion has been sent off on an errand; the dinner with Master Lant has been postponed until tomorrow, at six o’clock.” Hana informs you as she sets out your breakfast: oatmeal and water. Just what your now very sensitive stomach and nerves need. Did she overhear your little mental breakdown not even an hour ago? Or was this the usual breakfast for the residents of the Agriche compound? 
“I see.” You hoarsely reply, voice still recovering. This is a good thing - you don’t have to see the devil’s face for yet another day. Her news also answers your question; Dion is out on an errand and they weren’t planning to axe you. Yet. Hopefully never. 
Still, the curiosity of your husband’s duties lingers. You shouldn’t involve yourself anymore than what you currently are. Curiosity always kills the cat. So, you bite your tongue, deciding against asking her what your oh so lovely husband’s chore is… but, if you are to play the role as a wife, his wife, should you ask him once he returns? Like how one would greet their spouse once they return from work. 
Hello dear… ick, no. Hey, how was your day… no, next. Are you tired? Do you want a bath…?
Or maybe you should just ignore the subject all together. His business isn’t yours, so why bother?
Besides, what if he doesn’t like you ‘snooping’ in his business? But at the same time, he’s been acting so weird and unlike how he was portrayed in the story. So while that Dion would find your questions annoying or useless, this Dion may want you to ask about his day. Fuck, it’s all so confusing and irritating 
 “Hm. Hana, is there anything on today’s schedule?” 
“No, not yet my Lady.” 
Not yet. What does she mean by not yet? Does that mean she’s aware that someone will interrupt your tiny bit of peace at some point today? Her short dark brown hair slightly bounces as she shuffles her weight onto one leg. “However, my Lady, I could… tell them that you’re recovering from ‘last night.’”
Her suggestion makes your grip on the cup loose, dropping the glass onto your lap as water soaks it. 
“My Lady! Are you alright?” In a panic, Hana grabs some of the napkins on the table and pats your lap to soak up some of the water after removing the now empty glass. “My apologies - I shouldn’t have brought up such a vulgar suggestion…” Her once collected face and behavior shatters at the drop of a hat, ‘concerned’ about your safety. 
Or was it for hers? 
“I-it’s fine… no worries,” a tight lipped smile that only makes her brows furrow more and treats you gentler. Like you were made of glass. Well, that wouldn’t be too far from the truth… 
“No, really. I just need to change clothes…” Once she’s done with soaking most of the water up you stand and walk to the closet. Opening the doors you skim over the options. Hana’s footsteps stop right behind you. Why is it so hard to have personal space in this place…
Your gaze travels upwards and for the first time, do you notice the Agriche family's crest engraved into the wood. Bitterness explodes in your mouth. It seems that no matter where you are in this place, there will always be a physical reminder of where you are - of who you belong to. No matter, you tell yourself. Besides, this isn’t even your room - 
It was your husband’s. And maybe after a month, if not less, into your marriage, you’ll be assigned your own. …why were you sharing a room with him to begin with? Probably to increase the chances of conceiving a child sooner rather than later. 
“... does that even make sense?” you murmur in amusement. Lant wasn’t even dead yet. But, you think, maybe he wanted his son to have a child so he could start to shape them into this tainted and sadistic mold ahead of time before he kicks the bucket. To ensure that the child - your child - would follow in their father’s footsteps. 
To see if they would carry the same air and expectations as your husband does. 
How cruel. 
“Hana, I’ll let you choose it; they’re all so… beautiful that I can’t choose.” In reality you’re getting a headache from looking at the family crest. Which just became yours. 
“...yes, my Lady,” she follows your order without question, going through the options. 
Not even a few minutes later she pulls one out. 
It matches your husband’s eyes. A brilliant shade of scarlet, it practically glows. A sheer black neck piece that forms as a choker and covers your cleavage but leaves your shoulders bare. Black lace is on the hem, flowers engraved into the pattern. The body of the dress is a solid scarlet. 
“It’s beautiful.” You compliment her choice of style hiding how the beautiful piece of clothing makes your fingers twitch and brings the urge to vomit forward. Oh, how horrible it is, to not even be able to enjoy such a sight. 
How horrible it is, to be born into this world after a helpless first life only to repeat the cycle, but worse. 
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Please.. Matthias smut, i’m starving there’s barely any content for him… I need him sexually pent up and sloppy ☝️😔
Heres so an unposted smut of him these are old
Rated: Mature | Warnings: reader is a simp for him and writer, jackmatt
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Morning sex is rare especially when Matthias initiates it; between the two of you, you have the higher libido, and thus the one initiating— Matthias does not mind, given you are also willing to give a show when he is busy and pretending to be disinterested.
However, today he was very much in the mood the second he got you to wake up, his hands clingy and you far too eager to open your legs to him.
Most of the morning was spent between bedsheets constantly chasing ecstasy.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Asking after a nap and cleaning up.
“About what?” He is at his desk fixing up a wooden miniature basic puppet.
“This morning!” Wrapping your arms around his neck as you rest your chin on top of his head, “You were frantic.”
Mathias is quiet, “You noticed?” Stopping his tinkering, “I just felt the need is all.” Frowning then sighing, “I had a… dream.”
“Oh!?” Moving to sit on the bed when he turns his chair to face it.
“... You can't… Judge me.” Shy, “It was about the last match yesterday.”
You nod showing you are listening, “With Jack?”
“With Jack.” Going quiet as he looks conflicted to talk more.
“I once dreamt of a threesome with Orpheus and you.”
“What!?” Taken aback by your words.
You simply shrug, “I mean it's natural to dream about things. Sometimes naughty dreams too,” Leaning forward, “Fool’s Gold was my first one.” Whispering to him a dirty secret.
“What makes you think it was anything naughty? I could just say I was dreaming about the match—”
“Matthias,” Cutting him off, “You literally fucked me all morning. I'm sure you had a naughty dream about Jack.” Then you grin, “Was he hot?”
Matthias groans as he leans back against the chair with his hands covering his eyes, “Damn it… Yeah, that stupid rose one.”
“Yeah, that will do it.” Nodding your head sagely, “Hehe, congrats on the wet dream!”
“Please, must you tease?!” He pouted as he put his arms down and sat normally.
You move forward standing then bending over to kiss his cheek.
-----
The stack of papers is neat and bound together with a ribbon with a note on top: ��Read only when I am busy and you are alone” with a heart drawing next to it.
It's one of your weird gifts again. It is as if all of your gifts are not put away safely as he treasures them. The Puppeteer sighs sitting on his bed as he looks through the stack of papers.
The title page Ink and Strings, you and your writings always have some creative title… The first actual page right away tells everything about this story you left for him.
The desk shifts with each thrust, the laboring breaths, and lips everywhere they can each before meeting. There I took all that I could. My body is aching for release but I am greedy, and wanting, and so is he.
Matthias reads on then stops when he sees…
Orpheus moves to accommodate. Matthias keeps me on the desk, caring for my comfort over caring if Orpheus can use my mouth. I know he would–
This is your dream! Written just for him to read and get off on if he wishes— He really hates how his cock is reacting to the details of your story, of the emotions clearly of love for him and lust for Orpheus. You only kiss Matthias, you only seek comfort in Matthias, and your needy begs are for Matthias. The rest, the lust is for Orpheus as if he is only there to indulge in curiosity.
Matthias uses his bare hand to get himself off, reading the story you wrote with laboring breaths.
-----
“This has to be inappropriate using your talents…” The Puppeteer says while on bed, sitting on bed with only his underlings on. His eyes looked to the side and down at the dark sheets. You giggle as he is clearly shy about this.
“I don't think so,” As you prepare your stack of fresh blank papers and pen in hand, “You are being my editor!” Pointing it out as if this is normal to do.
“No editor touches themselves to the piece they are editing.”
“Oh, Matthias, if my editor is not enthralled by my writing then I failed in capturing the essence of the scene.”
Matthias rolls his eyes, “Whatever.” He then looks at you, “So?”
“The chill of the snow map sends a shiver down your spine,” You say while writing, “Or perhaps it is the anticipation of danger as you rush off to find a cipher.” Your lover listens to your words to set up the fantasy, “The fog barely misses its target but it does. Giving time you vault through a window to escape out of the shack.”
Matthias leans back, closing his eyes picturing your words.
“Like a butterfly caught in the spider's web, he has you.” You hum then nod to yourself agreeing with that description, “Tall, menacing, the threat is right there,” Matthias frowns as knows that feeling, “One strike and you will be down on the ground painting the white snow red with your blood.” You stop then go on, “Yet, the strike never comes, the claws of his viciousness with twisted skill to cut and slice. His other hand grabs you, pinning you against the cold outer wall of the factory.”
Matthias shifts as you paint the picture with your words of a scenario he told you about. A dream that caused him to seek you out in the morning.
“His laugh is rich, gleeful as you do not fight back,” Matthias bites his lip, “Docile as you allow him to cut the fabric of your pants. The bit of the skin on your ass cut enough to bleed, you hiss in pain delighting him.”
“(Name).”
“Shh, we are getting to the good part!”
Matthias hates himself for getting hard, with each word creating this fuck up willing situation. To be taken by the sadistic hunter Jack. Worse is how you write, speaking it out, in character.
“You fear he going to rip you apart with how big his cock is,”
“Ah, ah.” Panting as he palms himself through his underlings.
“Oh, you feel each burning push of the monster's cock. Blood and spit do little as lube, not like he cares— And he knows you don't either as you push back. A harlot, he calls you with his heavy British accent.”
“Shut up.” As if replying to the Ripper.
“He laughs before impaling you completely. His clawed hand slams against the wall while his other hand grips your waist. Bruises will form later, a reminder of this deed.”
Matthias by now has pulled out his cock, fisting his cock as he is getting off this.
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royaltea000 · 10 months ago
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ohh chillcuck…. (chackchack)
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shirecorn · 2 years ago
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Gay horse man looks like a princess
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Gay horse man learns to respect trans butch lesbians and various other people who won't date him
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kittehbiscuits · 5 months ago
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"I was fired from the Neitherworld afterlife agency and all I got was a broken nose."
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The silly 😜 I need to bash his face in.
Unshaded/uncropped under cut
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anonymusbosch · 8 months ago
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sometimes i feel like extending the kindness you can, when you can, is the only thing there is
#two days ago on the train home from work there was a woman next to me with three very young kids.#she was trying to keep them in the seats#exasperated and tired and yelling.#trying to make a phone call as the kids swung on the handrails and did cartwheels in the train car#i wasn't trying to listen to the call but caught that somebody had died in a station.#I tried to mind my business for a few minutes;#the kids bounced around as their mom tried to wrestle them down and took a swig from a bottle of vodka in their wagon.#when there was a break in her phone call i said “this is none of my business but if you want me to keep the kids busy I can try to help.”#and she said “you're not gonna be able to. they're being real bad. but you can try.”#so I took some post-its out of my backpack and folded them tiny paper cranes#(I tried showing them how to fold cranes but they were far too young for fine motor skills.)#I stuck post-its to the seats and gave them my pens so they could scribble and draw.#I told them I'd draw them anything they wanted if they sat in the seats while I drew.#I challenged them to a breath-holding contest.#When one started showing me that he could do cartwheels in the car aisle I asked him to come sit down and I could draw him doing a flip.#All in all I think they ended up more or less in the vicinity of the seats almost all of the time and having some kind of fun -#I almost missed my stop. I gathered my pens and pencils back from the kids and picked up the post-it confetti from the floor#and when I was putting my helmet on and grabbing my bike the kids waved goodbyeand the mom looked grateful#and told the kids to all say goodbyelike clearly they were in rough times#like clearly they were in rough times#money. health. holding on#there is so much I can't give#but I can give twenty-five minutes
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flippedorbit · 1 year ago
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do you want me to fucking go off on you? do you truly fucking want that mother?
#“oh you and your sister never listen to me and blah blah blah” we fucking do (or at the very least i do)#“you guys never help out” does me doing the litter and taking out the trash and on occasion hand washing the dishes mean#fucking nothing to you? does me sweeping the floor every once in a while because you chose to keep us in an area that is ALL SAND/DIRT ROAD#for whatever stupid ass reason also meaningless? does me doing my damn best to help out mean fucking nothing?#do you want me to kill my self. do you want to lose your eldest child to something YOU could have fucking prevented all because you can’t#stop being a bitch to him all the time? do you really fucking want that mom? because at this rate i am once again on the road to fucking#attempting it. i’m so god damn sick of how you treat me. the only time i can do anything i want is at night. i stay up super late playing#games with my friends because its the only time in the day when you aren’t bitching and whining for me to do something you don’t want to do#for the past several days i’ve been up until five in the damn morning just to do something that makes me happy.#you misgender me. you deadname me. you refuse to accept any aspect of my identity. you don’t treat me like a god damn person.#i have so many different ways i can consider attempting if i truly wanted to. the only thing keeping me alive is my friends. because they a#least show that they fucking care and actively want to do things with me. like group drawing or playing video games.#YOU on the other hand; mother; yell and get mad at me over the stupidest shit and never fucking apologize.#i cannot recall a singular time you’ve apologized for being a complete bitch to me over something so fucking unimportant.#and yet i’m expected to be completely fucking fine and happy all because you provide me with the bare fucking minimum.#”i clothe and feed and provide a place for you to live” THAT IS THE BARE FUCKING MINIMUM. sure you could argue over the fact i’m 18 and#should be out working somewhere. but you give me so few opportunities for going places and even considering getting a job or finally gettin#my driver’s license. plus i would rather fucking die than work any food service or customer service job. because i’d be going somewhere#where i’d mostly get talked down to or yelled and then come home and have the same shit done after working for hours and getting minimal#pay. i’d rather work on my own fucking terms with commissions than go into any job where i have to interact with others in public for any#reason. where i’d be treated just the same as at home. like someone who isn’t a person and doesn’t deserve anyone to be nice to them.#i constantly so desperately wish that maybe one day soon i’d find someone to be with romantically and that i could maybe live with them and#get out of this hell hole that i’m supposed to call home. to go somewhere and have my efforts appreciated. to go somewhere where i’d#actually fucking be loved. i shouldn’t have to wish so god damn hard for a better life all because my mother can’t fucking treat me like a#person with hopes and dreams and thoughts and feelings.#i’m ending this rant here before i get too angry and upset. see you all in maybe an hour.#suicide mention#ask to tag
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fushitoru · 1 month ago
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ranking types of hugs he'd be comfortable with another guy giving his gf! a gojo satoru fic/drabble
cw: gojo x reader, established relationship, fluff LOLLL, gojo being a pathetic loser for his gf, use of baby, babe, reader referred to as gf and wears makeup, gojo being jealous, crack, based off this (instagram link)
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"Ranking types of hugs I'd be comfortable with another guy giving my girlfriend." Satoru squints at the scene, reading out the caption on the TikTok as he watches the guy on the screen, long ass spider legs laid out on the couch while waiting for you to get ready. Curiously, he clicks on the filter without fully watching the video and starts filming to generate the different types of hugs.
"A back hug." The curious smile on his face slowly fades away as a grimace takes place as he gains the thousand yard stare. "Nine. Okay, not at a good start so far—"
He groans, face scrunching in pain as he exhales out at what he sees on the screen: slow dance hug. Then, he imagines you, a man's hand on your waist and you smiling just like those stupid fucking drawings at someone who's not him—"Ten. Oh my fucking god."
Clutching the lower half of his face, he looks concentrated as he waits for the shuffler to give him some less painful option, groaning in pain once again, looking back at the scene, and then groaning again. "One armed hug," he strains out, blindly reaching for the lowest number he could rank it as.
The filter shuffles yet again, and he's almost in tears, groaning immediately on instinct but then doubling back at his screen. "Polite hug." He contemplates it. "Okay, a two, not so bad, not so—"
A pause. "A classic hug." He stares at the screen like it just betrayed him, until he decides it's not so bad. Reluctantly, he ranks it at three.
Then, he waits for the filter to give him another painful vision, and it delivers. "A slow catcher hug—oh my godddd." Satoru is shaking his head, eyes teary as he groans loudly at the though of you jumping up to another man, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in for a hug. If someone was listening to him, it would seem like he was dying with the way he was covering his mouth, shaking his head, and exclaiming "what the fuck"'s as he stared at his phone screen in sheer shock.
Unfortunately for you, you were within earshot, blending in your blush and doing finishing touches as you heard Satoru's shrieks coming in from the living room. He seemed to be on the edge of tears, and worriedly, you set down your brush and rushed to where his sobs were coming from.
And there he was: in fetal position, phone on the floor as he shook his head as if in shock. "Baby," you hurried to him, grabbing his face so you could figure out what was making him so distressed.
He didn't seem to be injured as he meets your eyes, upset. "I can't do this bruh," he laments while turning to be on his back and rubbing his eyes. You just look at him confused.
"Do what?"
He turns, and pauses. Scans you in your champagne dress for the fancy place he was taking you and the way you did your makeup so sultry. It's just for him, but after the events of that Tiktok—that's now stopped filming—all he feels is petty jealousy because other guys can see you like this.
Out of nowhere, he declares, "I can fight."
You blink. "What?"
"I can fight," he repeats, nodding emphatically as if trying to convince himself. Then, after a beat: "Why do I have such a pretty girlfriend?" He groans again, throwing his arm over his eyes. "Baby, why do you look so good right now?"
While he does this, you inspect him for any signs of injuries or things that could've caused him this much distress. Finding none and used to his theatrics, you sigh and pat his cheek. "I’m going to finish getting ready," you say, deciding he’s not in mortal peril after all.
As you return to your vanity, Satoru calls after you, still sulking. "Just so you know, I ranked the polite hug at two. Because I love you. And I can fight."
"Good to know, Satoru."
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a/n lowk spiderman!gojo coded. i love writing fluff i would lowk want to write this for nanami i feel like he would slowly grow more and more jealous LMAOAO
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buggachat · 8 months ago
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adrien never went to public school / adrienette have never met AU where Ladynoir are dating but Marinette has beef with Adrien Agreste™ on twitter, spurred by her interest in the fashion industry and her friendship with Mylene. ads are all over the place of Adrien promoting products like air in a bottle and NFTs and just generally so many products that are extremely poor taste/bad for the environment. Marinette tweets about beauty standards in the industry and all the shit Gabriel brand does to the environment and how Adrien Agreste perfectly encapsulates it all.
Adrien, of course, never responds to any of her tweets. her tweets are just white noise in the background. she is nowhere near on his level. one day Marinette tweets out something akin to "if I saw Adrien Agreste irl i'd punch him in the face" and her twitter gets banned for Threats of Violence, Alya draws attention to the injustice of it via the Ladyblog and suddenly "I want to punch Adrien Agreste in the face [gets banned]" becomes a bit of a meme. NOW people know who Marinette is and are listening to what she's saying (on her new account or whatever). Chat Noir also tweets that he wants to punch Adrien in the face
A hashtag trends. Marinette caves and starts tweeting about the scandals of the industry on her Ladybug twitter too. Adrien's twitter and instagram comments are flooded with both threats to punch him but also just generally critical comments like "nice pic and all but are you not going to address the sweatshop allegations?". Adrien still does not address it. At most he turns comments off. Marinette is gnawing at the wood of her desk.
Then a Ladybug and Chat Noir identity reveal happens.
Marinette is stunned. Absolutely mouth agape. Cannot form words. Chat Noi— NO, ADRIEN— ADRIEN FUCKING AGRESTE looks at her and is like "oh ha :) .... Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right? You're the girl who wanted to punch me hahaha"
after recovering from her world being shattered, she's like...... "hahaha...... um............... yeah...... uh..... so you... DO know who i am. and you're just. ignoring it then. hahaha... ok... thats....... fine..... anyway..... u-uh...... im not... gonna actually punch you. but. um. k-kitty do you um. maybe want to stop promoting deforestation and all that"
he's like "I don't"
she's like. "yes you do. literally in your newest ad you said to the camera 'who needs trees when bottled air is the way of the future'. like did you really read that line out loud and not see a problem with it"
"yeah, that wasn't me"
"what are you talking abou—"
"it's deepfaked"
"..... what"
"all of my ads in the past few years are deepfakes. I complained too much so my father fired me. turns out that i signed away all rights to my face and voice to him when I was 13 or something. he can just use my face and voice and name however he wants. he generates ads. i dont even have access to the 'Adrien Agreste' twitter or insta accounts. sometimes he makes me do runways but beyond that I'm not involved in all."
"... ... ... ... ... what"
"yeah haha... :") im sorry. i wish i could help you more. but he never listens to me. i don't like it either, i.... i've asked him to stop sooo many times. but he never listens to me. i hate seeing my face used without my consent but haha.... i don't... have any rights here so. sorry. i really wish i could help more"
and now marinette hates "Adrien Agreste"™ ads/posts EVEN MORE and is threatening to kill Gabriel Agreste himself. all while kissing the real adrien agreste silly
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uravitypng · 8 months ago
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big beefy number one pro hero deku is absolutely smitten with you, his chubby little girlfriend, and yeah you're a little bit of an airhead sometimes but that makes you all the more endearing to him.
prior to meeting you he used to feel embarrassed whenever he'd ramble too long about heroes or quirks. after some time people would drown him out after he started his disjointed babbling, not wanting to listen to him ramble. with you it's different, the first time it happened he went to apologise to you. jirou once told him he should try and apologise if he realised he did it to strangers afterwards- especially now that he's a pro hero.
so he goes to stammer out an apology after realising he spoke to you uninterrupted about all might's golden age for five minutes and you tilt your head and giggle at him. izuku draws in a breath. "why are you apologising deku? i really liked hearing you speak. what about his other ages?"
izuku felt like he was malfunctioning, "what?"
you bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling again. who knew pro hero deku is so cute? "like the silver age and the bronze age? are those all the ages or is there like a platinum age too?" izuku grins, you're so interested in what he has to say he can't help it. "wait was is all might's quirk again? he's like strong right? that's his quirk."
izuku pauses for a second before barking out a laugh. you pout and glare at him feigned annoyance. 'she's so adorable and ditzy. i need to speak to her again.'
you constantly praise him, not just for hero work either, and ever single time it makes his entire face red. it doesn't matter that you've been dating for four years now and izuku's brought an engagement ring, he still gets flustered with all the compliments.
people compliment him all the time, it comes with the job, but when you do it it means so much more. " 'zuku you're so brave!" "i don't understand this at all izuku, can you explain it too me? you're the smartest person i know." "you're so pretty." "your hair is so soft." "you're the best hero ever!"
a light sheen of sweat covers your forehead after being manhandled by your boyfriend into the cowgirl position, he loves holding onto your love handles and moving you up and down on his cock, with each bounce your body jiggles. you'll lay in bed with your face buried in his chest as you trace the scars on his arms with your fingertips lightly, "you're so strong izuku." you turn to face him and your chubby cheeks lift as you smile. "i'm so proud of you." his heart skips a beat. he's never loved anyone more than he loves you.
izuku gets possessive of you, he doesn't like people touching you. you're his. before you he never thought he would be jealous or possessive but then you came into his life and he nearly broke the glass of champagne he was holding when he saw todoroki talk to you. he knows todoroki doesn't like you like that, he's liked yaoyorozu since ua but he was too close to you and izuku hated it. his legs moved before he could think, walking up to you both with a forced smile on his face. he wraps his arm around your soft waist, tightly, and kisses your forehead. you smile sweetly at him and lean into his body. izuku brought you home earlier than you thought he would that night, holding onto your thick thigh with one hand while his other hand is on the steering wheel, driving you both home.
his jealous nature was cemented a week after when he saw kaminari talking to you. not just talking to you- flirting with you. if izuku was holding a glass like he was last time he most certainly would of smashed it in anger. you don't even realise what kaminari is doing and izuku knows you don't.
you listen to him talk intently and nod your head, you smile at him and laugh at his jokes. to some people they would think this would be you flirting back but you're not, you're just trying to be nice. kaminari has decided to talk to you and you want to be kind and listen to what he has to say and izuku has really admired that quality about you but right now he wishes you could pick up on the clear signs that kaminari is giving you.
izuku snaps when he sees kaminari look at your cleavage and glance at your body, his eyes lingering on your plush thighs. his voice is strained as he pulls you away from kaminari making some half-arsed, offhanded excuse as he takes you home immediately.
when he saves a small child and he gives them his award winning grin all he can think about afterwards is you. 'who are our kids going to look like? will they have my freckles? or maybe her hair? if they're half as cute as her they'll be the cutest kids ever.' he's already planning their bedrooms and his eyes drift to the baby clothes section at stores.
your boyfriend has the biggest breeding kink known to man and you get reminded of that as he folds your body into a mating press and groans deeply in your ear, "can't wait to see your soft body get softer puppy, promise i'll look after, you won't have to lift a finger." you loudly whine, grabbing hold of his large arms, every thrust causes a loud slapping sound with how wet you are. "you're gonna look so pretty puppy. i'm going to pump you full, make sure you don't spill any for me, just like the good girl you are."
izuku adores you and you feel exactly the same about him.
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kissyrafe · 14 days ago
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christmas eve with rafe
cw: smut, fem!reader, rough sex, usage of the words "daddy", unprotected p in v sex (not proofread!!!)
notes: just spreading the holiday cheer! also first post so nervous
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"can you please just tell me? pleeaseee..." you whined, shaking at the nicely wrapped presents underneath the tree, dying with anticipation. rafe let out a small chuckle "come on baby, it'll ruin the fun," his large hand pressed against your back, rubbing it in small circular motions. "jus' wait 'til the morning, then we can open our presents together." he spoke softly, enjoying the torture you were in.
"okay... but i better see uggs first thing in the morning." you let out a bratty sigh, placing the present back where it belonged.
you sat on the island's marble countertop in your cotton shorts, licking the cookie batter off of the holiday-themed spatula while rafe continued reading the next step on his phone. "okay so, i think we need to-" he rubbed his flour-covered fingers with his forehead before walking over to where you sat "y/n, stop eating the cookie dough." now standing right in front of you, he took the bowl, placing it down to your side. "no, you're not my father." you let out a small giggle before draping your arms over his shoulders as to not contaminate rafe's clothes with your hands that were covered in cookie dough ingredients. "oh? what about all those times in bed you called me, what was it, daddy?" his lips curled into a smug smirk, squinting his eyes at you teasingly. "shut up." you kissed rafe before he could say anything else, his hands landed on your hips, rubbing them tenderly. "y'know, you've been such a little brat today..." he murmured against your skin "from the presents 'til now," rafe's lips traveled down to your necks, nipping on your skin as he went, "i don't know what i should do with you."
you were currently bent over, your mouth hung agape, grunts and small moans flowing through with every thrust. your skin sunk into the cold marble, weak hands gripping the bowl and whisk as you stirred slowly with the help of rafe, too distracted by what was happening behind you. "c'mon baby, you got this." rafe whispered in your ear, his cock sinking into oh so slowly as he guided your hands. "p-please..." you managed to whimper out of your pathetic mouth, eyes shut. he was being so cruel.
"please what?" he teased you again, trying to draw an answer out of you, knowing damn well what you want. "please rafe, ah!⏤ daddy..." a particularly sharp thrust made your body jolt as you heard rafe give a dry chuckle. "go... faster," was all you could plead in this agonizing pleasure. he let out a small hum before biding to your demand, picking up his pace.
rafe was enjoying all of this. seeing you all needy and frustrated made him pity you in a sense, but he took amusement. after all, you deserve it. maybe it was the holiday feels or whatever, but you seemed to be so impatient today and wouldn't listen. rafe needed to teach you.
sounds of skin slapping and metal tapping mixed with each other as rafe fucked you at a relentless pace. by now, the cookies were forgotten as the only thing either of you cared about was how his cock slid against your tight and warm walls. your hands held onto the sides of the counter as you tried to steady yourself under your haze of pleasure. rafe fisted your hair, holding your head up as drool came from the corners of your mouth, dripping down to the counter. his other hand kneaded your plush vanilla-scented skin. "shit baby, pussy s' good," rafe's honey voice filled your ears, "uh⏤mmm..." was the only way you could respond as you couldn't even form words anymore. he tugged on your hair, pulling it to the side as he made you face him. "what's that? are you seriously fucked stupid by my dick?" rafe said in a smug tone, lovin' this all too much.
"come on pretty girl, use that sweet voice of yours and talk to me." he asked, his hand moving to hold your face, squeezing your cheeks in his calloused palm. "y-yes..." you softly moaned out, biting the inside of your mouth to hold back from making too much noise. "have you learned your lesson yet, huh?" rafe asked, feeling as though you were reaching your high from your moans alone. he just knew you and your body too well. you nodded frantically, begging for him to let you come. "please rafe... i'll be good⏤ promise!" your eyes opened a slight, looking at rafe's pleased expression. "c-cumming, rafe!" you shut your eyes again as your orgasm hit you, limbs weak. his dick guided you both through your euphoria, and rafe's high came soon after. "fuck, baby... you're so⏤" was followed by a stutter of thrusts and grunts from rafe, his hips snapping against your ass while spurts of hot cum filled you up.
you both are breathing heavily, and no words are exchanged after riding out your orgasms. rafe slowly pulled out of you, his cum leaking out with it. opening your eyes again, you see him with droplets of sweat hanging from his neck and forehead. turning around while maintaining eye contact, rafe plants a kiss on your plump lips.
"wanna get back to baking?"
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vanteguccir · 4 months ago
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── ୨୧ ! 5 TIMES CHRIS AND Y/N WERE CAUGHT KISSING
chris sturniolo x reader
SUMMARY: Where a fan creates a 5-minute video with all the times that Chris and Y/N were caught kissing.
WARNING: Making-out.
REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Chris and Y/N sat side by side on the plush couch in the living room. They were half-watching a movie that had been playing for the past hour, but neither of them was truly invested. Chris's arm was draped lazily around Y/N's shoulders, his thumb drawing idle circles on her upper arm. It was one of those rare, peaceful evenings where they could just relax and enjoy each other's company, without the usual hustle and bustle of filming or the pressure of content creation hanging over Chris head.
Y/N was scrolling through her TikTok, a small smile playing on her lips as she came across fan edits and posts dedicated to Chris and his brothers. Her fingers stopped suddenly, her eyes widening as she stopped on a video with the caption: "Top 5 Times Chris and Y/N Were Caught Kissing in the Background." She let out a small laugh, nudging Chris's shoulder to get his attention.
"Baby, look at this." She muttered, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and shyness. She turned the phone screen towards him, and his brows shot up in surprise as he read the title.
"Are you serious?" He asked, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned closer to get a better view. "I didn't even know we were caught that many times."
Y/N pressed play, and the screen lit up with the fan edit.
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1. Baking Blind, Deaf and Mute. (Two Times)
The first clip was from a Baking Blind, Deaf, and Mute challenge, recorded when the triplets had visited their parents in Boston for their birthday.
The video opened with Nick standing in the foreground with Matt by his side, leaning casually on the marble table, his hands gesturing animatedly as he explained how that video would be with the participation of Y/N. His voice was filled with that signature mix of enthusiasm and sarcasm as usual.
As Nick continued to lay out the idea, the camera caught slightly Chris and Y/N in the background, standing by the fridge. Chris was holding a spatula in the air like a sword while staring at Y/N, trying to look serious but failing miserably as a playful grin tugged at his lips.
Next to him, Y/N was meticulously reading the ingredients list, ignoring his playful manner successfully, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to memorize the steps, fully aware that she wouldn’t be able to see anything in a few minutes.
The atmosphere was light and filled with anticipation, the kind that comes with knowing things were about to descend into playful chaos. Matt and Nick were already debating loudly over what constituted a valid ingredient while picking the necessary ones from the cabinets, their voices a blend of mock seriousness and barely-contained laughter.
But then, probably with the hope of being hidden behind his brothers' back, Chris leaned closer to Y/N, his shoulder brushing against hers. The gesture was subtle, almost as if he were seeking her out in the midst of the noise, a quiet connection just for them. Y/N looked up from the list, her eyes meeting his, and a soft laugh escaped her, the sound so gentle that the camera barely picked it up.
Listening to his favorite sound, Chris, with his eyes sparkling with mischief, turned fully toward Y/N. He leaned in, whispering something in her ear that drew another quiet laugh from her - just like his goal -, her smile wide and genuine, the kind that made her eyes crinkle at the corners.
And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Chris dipped his head and pressed a quick, tender kiss to her lips. It was brief, a mere brush of lips, but the affection behind it was palpable. Y/N’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and she ducked her head, pretending to be engrossed in the ingredients list once more, though the small, secretive smile playing at her lips betrayed her.
Meanwhile, Matt started trying to talk to the camera, his voice raised to make sure the viewers could hear him over Nick's teasing.
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
2. DTI
The second clip was from a particularly memorable livestream that Matt and Chris had done from Matt’s room. They had recently started playing a game called Dress to Impress, and after recording a small video for their YouTube channel where they played the game for the first time, it quickly became their newest obsession.
Y/N had been hanging out in the room during the stream, perched comfortably on Nick's chair off-camera. Although she wasn’t actively participating in the game, her presence was felt in subtle ways; every now and then, a hand would appear on the edge of the screen, holding out a bottle of water, an energy drink or a bowl of snacks for the boys. Each time, Chris would glance away from the screen just long enough to offer her a grateful smile or a quick thank you before returning to the chaos on Matt's monitor.
On this particular moment, the livestream had taken an amusing turn. Matt was deeply engrossed in a competition against another player who had, to his disbelief, apparently copied his entire outfit design. His face was a mix of shock and indignation, his voice rising with every word as he expressed his frustration.
Chris couldn’t help but laugh loudly. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he listened to his brother’s angry words, his eyes focused on the screen.
It was in this moment that Y/N leaned forward, her face suddenly appearing in the corner of the camera. She moved quietly, almost as if she was sneaking up on Chris, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She leaned in close to him, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered softly - something about 'knowing that Matt would win either way, since he - Chris - was the creative mind who helped creating the outfit'.
Chris’s reaction was immediate. The playful grin he had been wearing just moments before softened into something warmer, more affectionate. He turned his head slightly, meeting Y/N’s gaze with a look that was full of amusement. Without a second thought, he leaned in, catching her lips in a quick, sweet kiss. The kiss was fleeting, lasting only a second before Y/N pulled back, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush as she disappeared back into the background.
The moment was so brief that it could have easily gone unnoticed, especially with Matt’s voice still rising as he ranted about the blatant theft of his outfit. But their fans were nothing if not observant. The chat lit up almost instantly, viewers flooding the comments with a mixture of excitement and teasing.
Despite his attempts to play it cool, Chris couldn’t help the faint blush that crept up his cheeks. The tips of his ears turned pink as he tried to brush off the attention, focusing back on the game with a slightly embarrassed laugh.
"Alright, alright, focus on Matt, not me." He said, trying to redirect the conversation, though his smile never wavered.
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
3. Fortnite Late Night
The third clip captured a moment during one of Matt and Chris's late-night gaming streams, "Fortnite Late Night." Each brother was in his own bedroom, Chris’s camera angled perfectly to frame his upper body, revealing a glimpse of his bed in the background, the soft light from his monitor casting a cool, blue glow over the room.
Meanwhile, Y/N had been upstairs, finishing up in the kitchen. The quiet house amplified the sound of her soft footsteps as she went to the stairs, heading towards the room she shared with Chris.
When Y/N reached the end of the steps and stepped into their bedroom, she found Chris completely engrossed in the game. His posture was tense, shoulders slightly hunched forward, eyes fixed on the screen with an intense concentration. The dim lighting highlighted his features - his lips were slightly parted, pink and plump, forming a small, unintentional pout, and his dark brown eyebrows were knitted together in focus.
He didn’t notice her at first, his mind fully absorbed in the game, but Y/N couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he looked in his concentrated state.
She was ready to crawl into bed, exhausted from the day, but there was one thing she had to do before she could even think about sleep. It was a nightly ritual at this point. No matter how tired she was, Y/N couldn’t fall asleep without saying goodnight to Chris.
Moving with sleepy steps, she walked over to where he sat. Chris didn’t need to look up to know she was there; he could sense her presence. As she leaned over the back of his chair, he could feel the soft brush of her hair against his neck, a comforting sensation that made him momentarily forget about the game.
"Goodnight, honey." Y/N whispered softly, her voice low and gentle, meant only for his ears. But her words, though quiet, were picked up by his sensitive microphone, echoing faintly through the livestream, reaching the ears of the hundreds of fans watching.
Without hesitation, and without any regard for the live audience, Chris tilted his head back, silently asking for his goodnight kiss. It was an instinctual, almost automatic gesture. Y/N, smiling at his adorable demand, obliged him, leaning down to press her lips against his in a tender, familiar kiss.
The angle was a bit awkward, the kiss upside down, but it didn’t matter, it was soft and unhurried.
On the other end of the game, Matt was fully aware of what had just happened. The sudden silence from Chris’s side was enough of a giveaway, and when he glanced at the small preview screen showing Chris’s camera, he saw it all. Matt smirked but kept his eyes on the game, unfazed by the interruption - he had grown used to these moments.
"Dude." Matt finally spoke up after Y/N’s figure disappeared behind Chris’s back, his tone dripping with teasing exasperation. "Can’t you keep your PDA for when we’re not live?"
Chris didn’t even flinch. With a lazy grin spreading across his face, he shrugged, entirely unapologetic.
"Sorry, couldn’t help it." He replied, his voice light and carefree. The grin on his face said it all - he wasn’t sorry at all.
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4. hello world
It had been a late-night gaming session - again -, one of those times when Chris and Matt were fully immersed in it, talking to fans while navigating through Dress to Impress. The energy in Chris’s room was electric, with his monitors casting a blue glow that bathed everything in a dim light. His headset was on, and he was deeply focused, his eyes glued to the screen.
But the concentration was constantly broken by Chris’s rumbling stomach and the string of complaints that followed.
"Ugh, I’m so hungry." He groaned into the mic, making a face. "Seriously, I could eat a whole pizza right now."
Matt laughed on the other end of the line, his voice crackling through the headphones.
"Dude, we just had dinner like three hours ago."
"Yeah, and?" Chris shot back, pausing for a second to take a sip of his energy drink. "That was hours ago. I’m starving. Hey chat, send food!" He laughed at his own joke, glancing over at the live comments.
Little did Chris know, Y/N was watching the livestream from the living room. She’d been lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone, when she heard his complaints. A smile spread across her face as an idea formed in her mind. She knew Chris’s favorite takeout place just down the street and decided to surprise him.
She slipped on a pair of sneakers, grabbed her keys, and headed out. The whole trip took barely fifteen minutes. When she returned, the aroma of Chris’s favorite meal wafted through the bag she was carrying, and she made her way quietly up the stairs to their room.
Chris was still completely absorbed in his game, his back to the door. He didn’t notice when she slipped in, the door clicking softly behind her. Y/N could hear him talking to his brother, still complaining about his hunger, completely oblivious to her presence.
She smiled to herself, holding back a giggle as she crept closer. She set the bag down on his desk next to his keyboard, the movement catching his attention. Chris looked up, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw Y/N standing there, holding out the takeout bag with a grin.
"Hey." She whispered, leaning in close so the mic wouldn’t pick up her voice - unsuccessfully. "I heard you were hungry."
Chris’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. He pulled off his headset, letting it hang around his neck, and stretched out his arms to catch the bag from her.
"Oh my God, you’re the best." He said, his voice low and filled with genuine affection. He opened the bag, inhaling deeply, and let out a content sigh. "You got my favorite!"
Y/N nodded, her smile growing wider.
"I know you too well."
Without another word, Chris set the bag down and reached out, pulling Y/N into his arms, forcing her to bent her upper body. He didn’t care that the stream was still going or that his brother and the fans were waiting. In that moment, all he could think about was how thoughtful and sweet she was. He tilted his head up, capturing her lips in a deep, grateful kiss.
Y/N kissed him back, her hands resting on his thighs, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his sweatpants.
It wasn’t until they broke apart that Chris remembered they were still live. He glanced over at his screen, the chat scrolling so fast it was a blur, and he could see the comments exploding.
Chris laughed, picking up his headset and sliding it back on.
"Sorry, guys." He said into the mic, a huge grin on his face. "Got a little distracted there. Y/N just brought me food, so, uh, I’m gonna eat while we keep playing."
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
5. We became dad's for 24 hours!!! (to eggs)
The last clip was one of a quiet, intimate moment captured during one of the boys' more absurd challenges: taking care of an egg as if it were their own child for 24 hours.
It was the middle of the early morning, the clock barely ticking past 3 AM, when the sound of three simultaneous alarms pierced the stillness of the house. The sharp, grating beeps echoed through the rooms, signaling that it was time for them to wake up and "feed" their eggs.
The absurdity of the situation was only amplified by the ungodly hour, the boys' groggy voices muttering incoherently as they stumbled around, trying to remember where they had left their fragile "children".
Y/N, who had been curled up in bed, still wrapped in the warmth of sleep, found herself jolted awake by the noise. Her eyelids were heavy, barely lifting as she pushed herself up from the bed.
Dressed in one of Chris's oversized T-shirt that hung loosely over her frame and a pair of soft pajama shorts, she looked the very picture of someone who had been dragged from sleep far too early. Her hair was tousled, a wild halo around her face, and her eyes were half-closed as she shuffled out of the room.
She used the commotion as an excuse to get a drink of water, her feet moving on autopilot as she padded quietly into the kitchen. The house was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of the moon filtering through the big window and the faint blue light of the fridge as she pulled it open.
The boys’ sleepy voices floated to her from the living room, muffled but distinct, each of them trying to outdo the other in their groggy banter about their "kids".
Chris was sprawled out on the couch in the living room, his body sinking into the cushions, looking cozy yet disheveled. His legs were stretched out, feet propped up on the coffee table, and his head was tilted back, his eyes blinking slowly as he tried to stay awake. He was mumbling something about the challenge, his words barely coherent.
Y/N, still in her sleepy haze, wandered toward them, her footsteps soft against the hardwood floor. The coolness of the water bottle in her hand provided a small comfort as she made her way toward Chris, passing by Matt’s legs, narrowly avoiding his outstretched foot, and maneuvered around the coffee table until she stood in front of her boyfriend.
Chris’s gaze followed her movements, his tired eyes lighting up slightly as he watched her approach. His arms opened wide, almost instinctively, inviting her into his embrace without needing to say a word. There was a small, sleepy smile on his lips, one that matched the one Y/N gave him as she stepped closer. The moment was quiet, almost dreamlike, the world around them fading into the background as she climbed over his legs and nestled into his lap.
She settled herself against him, her legs folded up on the couch as her body molded against his. The right side of her body pressed against his chest, and she could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath her. Her head found its place on his shoulder, her nose nuzzling gently against the exposed skin of his neck.
Chris’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, causing Y/N to smile against his neck, feeling the warmth of his breath on her skin, and she tilted her head back just enough to look up at him.
Almost automatically, Chris leaned down again, their lips meeting in a soft, lazy kiss. It was gentle, a mere brush of lips, but it was enough to make Y/N’s heart flutter.
When they pulled back, Y/N let out a small sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she nestled back into the curve of his neck. Chris held her close, his hand resting on her back, his thumb stroking gently up and down in a soothing rhythm, letting his brothers finish what they wanted to say before going to bed again.
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
The video ended, and Y/N hit pause before it replayed again by itself, looking up at Chris, who was leaning back with a satisfied smile.
"Wow." She started, dragging out the word. "Look at you, Mister Romantic."
Chris shrugged, unabashed.
"What can I say? When you've got a girlfriend as amazing as you, you just... can't help yourself."
Y/N, sitting up and adjusting her position, rolled her eyes but smiled, her cheeks tinged pink.
"You’re such a dork." She muttered, but there was affection in her voice.
"And you love it." Chris shot back, leaning down, pressing a kiss to her temple, and Y/N couldn't help but smile, leaning into his touch.
"I really do."
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
extra - comments:
"this compilation was the perfect one to prove what the boys said about chris being the only one who would make-out with his girlfriend in front of everyone 😭"
"stop, the way chris looks at Y/N in every clip???? ugh, I NEED this 😩"
"forget the baking, chris and Y/N's little kiss right there? too cute omg"
"okay but that livestream moment when Y/N brings chris food 😭 she's so thoughtful and caring ;(("
"chris and Y/N in the background just being all lovey-dovey while matt and nick are doing their thing is EVERYTHING!!! they’re so in love it hurts 🥺"
"honestly, I’m all here for how they’re always caught kissing like they forget the cameras are on 😞"
"chris couldn't even focus on the game anymore after Y/N kissed him LMAOOO, he's down bad, guys"
"STOP IT RIGHT NOW!! Y/N laying on chris lap while they do their thing with their eggs omg 🤧🤧 they're so precious"
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2hightocare · 3 months ago
Text
COFFEE!
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“I think I'm past obsessed at this point, there has to be another word in the dictionary that tops obsessed.”
Synopsis: in which a hopeless romantic falls in love with the man of her dreams…
Pairings: boyfriend!jeongguk x fem!reader
Genre: established relationship.. non idol au
Warnings: literally the most sappy thing I could have possibly written, was listening to ‘coffee’ by miguel while writing, they’re such a gentle love, reader is a book worm, Jungkook likes drawing (doodling) plus points when his drawings are about oc, mentions of their first time having sex, usage of book quotes (read nltm, had to use the mia and sebastian line for my own sanity) <3333333
authors note: this is so simple but my book worm hopeless romantic needed this.. wrote this while high so nothing new 🤍
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They say falling in love is the most beautiful feeling in the world.
You couldn’t explain the immediate sensation, the feeling that spreads throughout your chest as if you were a black-and-white picture that suddenly starts to fill with vibrant colors anytime his eyes lock with yours.
It was astonishing how the universe works—the idea that you are destined for someone ever since you are born, and that all the hardships along the way shape you into the person you need to be to meet them.
Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your ears as you watched him laugh from across the room, an oversized hoodie and baggy jeans covering his lean, muscular figure—one you’d memorized to the tiniest detail. You knew every freckle and scar. His head was thrown back, arms crossed, as he paid attention to whatever the guy in front of him was saying.
You scrunched your nose, using your index finger to push your glasses up as you studied your boyfriend from afar. You weren’t sure whether to call it pathetic or endearing, the way you noticed every little crease on his forehead and the way he toyed with his bottom lip absentmindedly. You even took note of his long eyelashes, and nearly died of jealousy every time you counted them when he slept beside you.
It was gut-wrenching to imagine anyone else feeling about him the way you did. The thought alone made you want to puke in the nearest trash can.
You were lovesick for this man, and you could already feel the heat rising to your cheeks whenever you looked at him or heard his laugh. Not only did you want to scream and freak out over every little thing he did, but he also had you daydreaming constantly. You found yourself thinking of silly song lyrics that resonated with how you felt about him. Staring at his side profile, you finally understood the meaning behind Suki Waterhouse’s lyrics: “Oh, my good looking boy,” echoed in your mind.
Before you could form another lyric or recall a favorite book quote to describe your feelings, his eyes found yours. A small smile tugged at his lips as his gaze scanned your expressions, reading you as if you were an open book. You smiled, tilting your head to the side, trying to hide the makeshift fireworks going off in your tummy.
His gaze softened, and it made your breath waver. You had never understood the meaning of “his gaze softened” in books, but now, you understood every syllable of those words after experiencing it firsthand.
You honestly couldn’t think of a single thing you didn’t love about him. You loved everything about him, even the parts he claimed were too “broken” or “damaged” to be loved.
A few seconds passed before he finally said his goodbyes and began making his way back to you. Your eyes followed every step, catching the grin he wore.
“I don’t know, I pretty much think you’re obsessed with me,” your boyfriend teased, his straight teeth on full display as he stopped in front of you, looking down at you on the couch.
“In your dreams.” You laughed, craning your neck to look up at him.
Instead of getting mad, he let out a low chuckle, leaning down with both arms on either side of the couch, caging you in.
“Every night, baby.” He whispered softly, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips before moving to your cheek, delivering another soft kiss. You sighed in contentment as his lips ghosted over your skin, the pet name making your head feel dizzy.
He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before standing up straight again, looking down at you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you looked up at him through your lashes. He was already smiling, and you didn’t even need to ask “what?”—you already knew. Anyone in their right mind could tell how obsessed you were with him, and it was no surprise to him either.
As you both walked out of the bookstore, carrying a bag full of psychological and romance books (and, of course, the box of transparent sticky notes Jungkook got for you to annotate your books without writing on the actual pages), it was clear this was one of his favorite things to do. In his free time, when he wasn’t working or with you, he loved opening one of your books and reading your thoughts scribbled in the margins. Half of his camera roll was pictures of you, but the other half was just pictures of your annotations, scribbles, and drawings.
It was as if he was inside your mind, reading every thought, and he loved it.
He could still recall the first book he opened that sent his heart racing, like a teenage boy with a crush.
“I couldn’t see him, but his laugh was unmistakable. I could close my eyes and be in so many places with that laugh. That laugh was the cohesive thread, the little recurring melody that showed up in so many scenes of my life, like Mia and Sebastian’s theme in La La Land. Always there, playing in the background.”
Those words were highlighted in the prettiest shade of pink, with two small hearts drawn beside them. But it was your handwriting at the bottom that got him: “The feeling I’ve been trying to put into words about how I feel every time I look at him has just been done for me, oh my.” He remembered feeling his heart stop for a second. And when it started again, it was for you—his heart was for you and only you.
That wasn’t all. It had become one of your shared love languages. Jungkook started buying books he thought you’d like. He even asked your little sister what your favorite highlighters were so he could buy them for both of you.
Your heart did somersaults when you opened a book on his bedside table and saw a drawing—a pair of eyes in black ink, long lashes making them look bigger and more innocent. Your breath hitched as you noticed the small freckle just below the eyebrow, realizing it was you.
It didn’t help the overwhelming sensation of adoration when you saw his handwriting in the margins.
“You remembered?” she said softly.
“I remember every second of us.”
The text was underlined, and in small letters, he had written, “Gosh, she made me fall so hard that I’m reading sappy words and thinking ‘us’ out loud. #sendhelp,” with a frowning emoji next to the hashtag. Before you knew it, you were on page one, reading every single line and note he had left.
Also, the multiple drawings on the pages where there was extra space had your heart thumping hard in your chest. There were so many drawings— each one tied to you or him. It was impossible to describe every feeling surging through your chest, every emotion racing in your bloodstream, as your fingertips traced the drawing of you.
This time, it was an image of you on your back, lying on a bed. Only part of your side profile was visible, with your hair spilling across the bed, covering most of your back. At first, you didn't want to assume it was you he'd drawn-being self-centered wasn't your style. But it was impossible to deny it when he'd sketched every freckle, even the small half-moon tattoo on your shoulder blade, matching the real one inked on your skin.
You smiled at the memory but snapped back to the present as your boyfriend instinctively switched you to the other side of the sidewalk when you two turned toward Target. You held tight to his index finger as he squeezed between people, leading you behind him with a soft "excuse me" to anyone in the way.
Automatically, you found yourself smiling as you picked up your pace to match his longer strides. He pulled you in closer, his arm snaking around your waist, his hand resting over your belly—a little lower than usual, sending butterflies flitting wildly in your stomach. You suppressed a shiver as he gently guided you to the side, allowing an older couple to pass by.
"Us when we're eighty, baby," Jungkook leaned down and whispered into your ear, making you playfully roll your eyes at him. His smile only widened at your reaction.
"Won't be us if you keep watching Young Sheldon without me," you pouted, giving him a playful glare, which only made him smile more.
"Why are you smiling?" you asked, maybe even whining a little as you walked into the store and heard the employee greet you both.
"Because you're so beautiful, and my brain goes in circles when I stare at you," he shrugged casually, giving your waist a small squeeze before untangling his arm to grab a cart.
You tried so hard not to melt, holding onto his bicep as he leaned forward on the cart, making him closer to your height.
"Don't know it you're down, but l've been wanting to learn how to crochet," you said as you glanced around the aisles. Your boyfriend immediately started nodding excitedly.
"Baby, oh my god. I'm so down. We need to make those big-ass blankets," he rambled, looking at your face for a reaction, like a puppy with its ears perked up and tail wagging.
"I think that's knitting, baby," you corrected him, smiling as his eyebrows raised before he let out a small laugh.
"Wait, are those two not the same thing?" His dimple deepened as he bit his lower lip, stopping in front of the craft aisle.
"I actually have no clue," you admitted with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow. "But I know you can crochet a blanket because you once told me about those pattern blocks you saw on your explore page.”
Jungkook's gaze softened as he made eye contact with you, his pupils dilated with so much adoration that it made your heart swell.
"And I remember because I searched them on TikTok to see what you were talking about. I saw people connecting them into blankets. Also, I remember you pretending to sleep so you didn't have to scratch my back anymore-before my one minute was up. You swear you're slick, but I know when you're really asleep," he said with a grin, teasingly biting your cheek as you tried not to smile.
"How do you know I'm not sleeping?" you teased, and he chuckled, ghosting his lips over yours.
"Because every time you fall asleep, you make this little sound, and then slowly, you start snoring," he laughed, watching your cheeks turn a shade of red before burying his laughing face in the crook of your neck.
To be loved is to be seen.
That phrase had never felt more accurate. No one else had ever seen you the way Jungkook did. He knew you so well, down to the tiniest details that sometimes even surprised you.
Your eyes practically turned into hearts as Jungkook kissed your neck innocently before turning his attention to the yarns.
This was the kind of love you had always dreamed of
-better than the movies or books. Nothing could top the overwhelming feelings of gratitude, love, and appreciation that coursed through your body whenever you looked at him. Your brain practically played the instrumental of "Video Games" by Lana Del Rey whenever you spent time with him.
It was as if even a natural disaster couldn't faze you
-so long as you could experience it with him.
The connection between you two was beyond what you ever imagined existed in real life. It felt like something out of a fairy tale. From the moment you locked eyes with him across the room, you both knew there was no turning back.
After checking out and getting to Jungkook's car, he opened the door for you, reaching over to buckle your seatbelt before putting the bags in the back.
Once he climbed into the driver's seat, his hand instinctively found its place on your thigh after starting the car. His thumb rubbed your bare skin, sending sparks flying through your body. It was such a natural gesture for him, but the butterflies never ceased. You bit your lip, trying not to whine when his hand moved closer to your inner thigh.
As he softly sang along to "Creep" by Radiohead, it was just another thing you'd become morally obsessed with-his voice. You had always known he could sing, but everything changed the night you were first intimate.
It was as if your entire perspective on love and sex shifted. Simply calling it "sex" seemed absurd now, because it was so much more. Everything felt heightened, more intense, making your heart pound wildly in your chest.
"F-fuck, baby..." he whimpered into your ear, his hips moving slowly into yours, leaving your mouth hanging open.
His little groans and moans made you dizzy, like notes of a lullaby. The feeling of skin against skin was the most addicting sensation, made even more special by the way he always checked in on you.
"Shhh, I'm sorry. Am I being too rough, baby?" His voice was strained as his hips halted, his breath heavy as he moved your hair to kiss your neck.
He resumed slowly, making your legs shake and grip the sheets, and you couldn't help but moan, asking for more. His chuckle against your skin was the same one you’d hear when he rested his head on your stomach, expecting you to scratch his back or read to him.
"You're sweaty," you pouted at him, both of you basking in the afterglow.
"I know. Do you still want me?" He smiled, mimicking your expression before pulling the covers over both your naked bodies and pulling you in as close as possible.
"Yes, I'll forever want you," you replied, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, savoring the warmth he radiated.
As sleepiness began to overtake you, you felt his fingertips tracing letters and shapes on your hip.
Just before drifting off, he began singing again. It was like entering another universe where only you and he existed
"I want you to notice," he sang softly, "when I'm not around."
"So fucking special... I wish I was special." He pressed a kiss to your temple, the sound of his voice and your matching heartbeats lulling you both to sleep.
You snapped back to reality when the car stopped at a red light.
"Is it bad that I always hope to get red lights so I can kiss you?" he asked, flashing a grin that had you laughing.
Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his as his eyes fluttered shut, his finger lifting your chin gently.
"Not bad, but a little weird. You want to spend so much time with me," you teased, pulling back to your seat. "Some might even think you're pretty obsessed."
"I'm past obsessed at this point. There's got to be another word that tops it," he admitted, stealing another kiss just before the light turned green.
As you gazed at him, you couldn't help but wish there was another word, stronger than "love," to describe how you felt about him.
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