#damn writer's block lol

[theguyifuckmorethanonce]

At last, chapter 18/the epilogue is up! 🙌 I got hit with a really bad case of writer's block after the last chapter, I got through it. lol Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy! 🫶

[ioniansunsets]

Alright but hear me out (hello btw how are you ?) kayn heartsteel have canonically been kicked out of his previous band ; imagine fem!reader (successful idol herself or civilian) comforting him and trying to help him push through it and get back on his feet to continue his music !

✖ Pre Heartsteel!Kayn Being Kicked Out ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.3k

✖ Tags: Established R/S, Idol!Reader

✖ A/N: You were a performer too and met him at a gig before either of you got famous! You two live together in this one, you’re a solo idol that practices at home so you can spend your days with him. These are headcanons! Whee!

----

-  It wrecked him. You two got together while he was in his old band, so it was an important memory to you both. As a solo artist, you understood the intricacies of being in the public eye but still, being kicked out? That was rough…something you personally could never experience. You did your best to comfort him.

- The first few days was the worst. Kayn was the perfect definition of bi-polar. Either his Rhaast ego was full blown, wild, and uninhibited. Man straight up was about to do crimes and was only stopped by you begging him not to make things worse for himself. (You caught him with a bag full of spray paint about to go wreck his old studio.) Or he was the trained Idol, Kayn. Rhaast entirely held back, the perfect definition of an average idol, obedient and reserved. Joining you in your dance and vocal practices in your home studio.

- Don’t even talk about the things he tweeted during that era, you had to run into his room and tell him to delete them minutes after posting. It was a bad time. If you were to ask Kayn now about those old tweets? He was on the very fence of, cocky pride on how he was a “badass” that “didn’t follow rules back then” or just overwhelming embarrassment for being young and dumb.

- There was a lot of work to be done over those first few days, you got the help of your own PR guys to try and get Kayn’s media presence looking better. You yourself doing your best to give him advice on performing, it wasn’t even that he was a bad artist, it was just…he had some strong ideals and just didn’t work well with his old band. It took months honestly but as always, drama died down and Kayn slowly got to live his life again.

- The saddest part of all this drama was that because you were an idol too it was hard to bring him out to comfort him. Paparazzi were hounding you both, media wanting to know what went down with Kayn and if you were seen beside him…gods who knew what the media would say about your career. You two barely left your house because you just couldn’t.

- So, all you could do was your best. Dragging him to game with you on the PC, buying new consoles to try new games with him (murdering things in game really helped him unsurprisingly), watching movies together at home (feel good films that actually make him cry), getting him to do weird shit like painting your shared room (you have a messy signature of his by the door), crocheting weird little animals (he made Rhaast!), hells you managed to get him to read a book (banned in various nations). It was…different. But it helped keep his mind off doing anything that would ruin his career more while satisfying his need to just be a creative.

- On one of those uneventful days, Kayn ordered a nice little delivery package and excitedly ran into your room. Holding the plastic bag up proud. “ Y/N. I’m going to change my image. Entirely. Can you help me. Like…Right. Fucking. Now.” You stare at him in confusion until he walked up to your table, and pulled 7 boxes of bleach and dye, dumping them on your table. “ I’m going to go hot pink.” You laugh, but oblige anyway. If it would cheer him up then you would spend the day helping him out.

- There was a lot of angry snuggling on boring evenings. Kayn would lie in bed in your arms ranting about his ideals, how he was meant for bigger, greater things, things no one else in the industry or his old band could comprehend. And you would hug him tight, supporting him as he complained, listening, agreeing where you can, giving him bigger and better ideals of grandeur. The both of you knew it wasn’t anything serious, but it really did help lighten his mood. “ I’ll really set the stage on fire next time just watch me.” “ I’ll bring the gasoline then.” “ For real! I will fucking bring fireworks and shit too. It’ll be sick as hell! Never seen before! I’ll wreck the stage!!!! Livestream that shit!!!” Such evenings would end with the both of you laughing. It was nice to see him happier again in those small moments. Sometimes you could even see a sneak of a soft smile creeping onto his face, his appreciation for you playing along and not stopping him.

- It took about a week before you felt it was right to get him to pick his guitar back up. Convincing him that the best way to get over the bad memories was to form new ones, the two of you sitting down to write a song. He really went HARD with the lyrics, it was a damn god rap at that but it was honestly a diss track at his old band and shall stay hidden in the files of your computer forever. You do secretly listen to it sometimes, it was raw as fuck, personally it helped YOU when you were angry and frustrated. Not that you would admit to him. It would only stroke his ego more.

- He only admitted it once. Once when you two were soaking in a hot bath together. Only Once did he tell you how much your support meant to him. Nice smells and colors from a bath bomb floating around you two. It was a slow morning, a few weeks after getting kicked out, right before he joined Heartsteel. You sat there, back against his chest as he rests his head on your shoulder. Relaxing in the tub. It was peaceful silence before he spoke up. “ Y/N…I’m going to join a new band.” You actually had to pause and turn to stare at him. Shocked. Asking him if he was sure, if he was ready, if he was comfortable to be performing with people again. You held his face, asking once more if this is what he wanted to do in his career, if he was going to give up on going solo like you. His hand rose to hold yours against his face as he spoke. “ Yeah, I talked to them a lot the past week and…they genuinely accept me and all my crazy ideas. They love Rhaast for who he is and I think I can work with this. I’m sure about this.” He laughs, putting your arm down as his hands wrap around you in a tight hug. Kayn moving his face down to your neck as he gives you a soft kiss, gentle, barely there as he whispers, not looking at you. “ I have to thank you for this by the way. For letting me Be Rhaast. For telling me time and time again to just be the Rockstar that I was meant to be. That my unique brand of rock was fine. I’ll remember this forever. Every time you see Rhaast on stage it’ll be thanks to you. Remember that.” And that was it. He never really showed his vulnerability about his old band ever again. The next day he joined Heartsteel, and it was great for him. Your own heart feeling warm and fuzzy seeing him laugh and have fun with new bandmates. And when you stand in the audience, seeing Rhaast rap some sick bars, you can’t help but smile. He was Your Rockstar.

[plusultraetc]

oh how the poor sleeping habits tables have turned

[acommonanomaly]

Ok, it's TIME. I miss my boys and I want out of this creative slump so I'm going to do my best to participate in Fëanorian Week. I CAN DO THIS.

[animelover20]

Y'all why the fuck was I going back through my doffy wips after ages and realised that 4 months ago I blacked the fuck out one night at like 3am and wrote 5-6 paragraphs of the most descriptive, heart wrenching thing I've ever read.

AND ITS IN MY NOTES? I WROTE THAT?!

genuinely reading the dialogue pulls at my heart strings(hehe strings anyway-) it's from doffys pov(atleast so far)which makes it a bit strange but holy shit you just get to peak into this man's thoughts in the best way.(It's so sweet too🥲)

I'd describe the story but I don't wanna spoil it. However I may not even post it because I doubt the rest of the story could compare to how poetic the beginning is.

I suck at writing beginnings(it holds me back a lot cause I know what's gonna happen but I can't get there.) but this is the most poetic shit and it actually makes sense,aside from a few very moments where I use the wrong word.

Btw I also have question regarding the end of that. I can't tell whether sleepy brain was correct or I'm correct. Sleepy me said a window was projecting light but shouldn't it be reflecting? Listen I know that's really dumb but google sucks.

I'm sorry for this big ol ramble out of nowhere lmao I just went back and reread my masterpiece and god it's great.

I'm really proud of it,even if I'm the only person to ever see it.

[revasserium]

Sorry to ask all of a sudden, but I've been having this thing where whenever I'd go to write, like I'd open the Google docs page and I'd get ready to write I freeze. I get this fear. Have you ever had that before?

don’t be sorry!!! i can’t stress enough how much i love talking to you guys <3 on anon and off!

hmmm i guess it depends on what you mean by “fear”? are you afraid of like the physical act of writing itself or afraid that you won’t write anything “good” or??? bc i’ve def had times (actually today is a p good example; i haven’t written in like 2 days ish, and i was scrolling thru all my fragments of writing and trying to figure out what to write cause i knew i WANTED to write, but i didn’t feel anything “grab” me) where i feel vaguely uninspired and like i know that if i do start writing, it’ll kinda be a slog and i prob won’t be happy w what i write that day anyways.

but those r the days that i really force myself to write. bc i know that i gotta push thru it, and that just the act of making myself write on the days i don’t want to or feel really “blocked” or uninspired will make me a better writer. and obviously, it doesn’t gotta be that srs for you haha. u don’t have to be good at something to enjoy doing it ! :) and never let anyone tell you otherwise.

but for me, i love writing and i like being able to look back and see my own progress as as writer.

so yeah, it can be scary sometimes, but what’s the worse than can happen? you write something and you don’t like it? so what? u write something that you like and someone else doesn’t? you could be the most delicious apple in the entire world and there’s gonna be some fucker out there being like ‘kay but i like oranges better’ lasldfkjsd

and literally some of my favorite one-liners come from pieces that i really wasn’t feeling in the beginning. and MOST of the time, even with the fics i post here, i’ll write the entire thing, and feel like i got in ONE good line. maybe two. u__u but i had to get through the entire rest of the fic to get to that one or two good lines.

in the immortal words of azumane asahi “just one point, i think we can get that” — so think of it like this, you just gotta put one word down, and then another one. one sentence, and then another one. and if you don’t like it, don’t worry about it right now. run with it. see where it goes. and if you really don’t like it at the end, don’t post it, delete it, print it out and burn it and scatter the ashes into the wind. but don’t let the fear of not being able to make something “good” stop you from just doing the thing. <;3

[spookymystery67]

Wtf?

Ew. I didn't even bother reading the whole thing but fuck these bots. Also, side note, the amount of emojis in that sentence between words was very irritating to get through. Blank accounts will be blocked! And any other account trying to be gross. Don't bother. Not chancing it. I wouldn't even know why anyone would start following me. I haven't written or done anything yet besides reblog.

[nutelloona]

all the sketches I did tonight were cigarette themed, I guess the late night air really calls for some smoke huh

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

hiii i love ur fics idk if ur requests are on rn but can u do a short drabble of the tiktok trend where the guy hasn't ask his gf to be his valentines day so she "put him on sale" as a joke ofc but she's like

BF FOR SALE ($3.50)

- amazing cook

-crusty feet

- will buy anything u want

any character is fine but i would love katsuki or shoto!!

LMFAOOOO this is for sure the funniest ask ive gotten yet😭😭😭 this is so cute !! and very long overdue I apologize writer block devil was rlly kickin my ass😞 valentines been over but yk i had to write this ! i was rlly hesitating between writing for shoto or katsuki and then i realized i could write for BOTH OF THEM!! and so i did ! i tried honoring your request as best i could, hope you like it <3 !

no pronouns mentioned, pure tooth rotting nasty fluff, use of petnames (my love for shoto and sweets, babe and idiot (lol) for katsuki), katsuki is an asshat but when isn’t he, shy katsuki, shoto is a bit of an airhead, kissing, biting, reader is petty asl lol, lemme know if i missed something else !

todoroki shoto ♥︎

“yn, my love.”

“yes, shoto ?”

the corners of shoto’s mouth pull into a tiny frown at the usage of his first name. no baby, no hun, not even sho. just shoto.

“did i do something to upset you ?” he asks carefully from his spot at the foot of your dorm bed he seems to be stuck at, he can’t bring himself to move until he knows if you’re actually mad at him, and he has an inkling you are.

you look up at him for no longer than a second then look back down at your phone screen “what makes you think that ?” you question back nonchalantly.

“you posted something on your tiktok account..” shoto doesn’t have a clue how to have this conversation with you and it makes him a little nervous, he regrets not going to izuku for advice after all.

“mhmmmm~” you hum, urging him to continue knowing damn well you know what he’s going to say. you wanted to hear him say it himself.

you know shoto’s had no previous relationships before you so these type of things probably don’t mean as much to him as they do to you, but doesn’t everyone want their boyfriends to ask them to be their valentine ? you sure do, and your boyfriend hadn’t asked you to be his yet, so as petty as you know you were being at the time you posted the tiktok he’s no doubt here for right now.

shoto feels like a criminal on trial desperately trying to plead his case with you being the judge. tentatively, he asks “ you said you were..putting me up for sale ?”

immediately it’s like a switch had been flipped. you place your phone down onto your bed next to you, shoto wishes he could take your phone’s place. you cross your leg over the other and bring your hands together like a super villain revealing their master plan “yes. yes i did.”

“oh.”

silence. nothing.

shoto tried—he’s trying. he’s trying so insanely hard to make sense of everything that is you but he simply can’t. he breaks eye contact to think of more to ask but his attention is quickly pulled back to you when he hears you whine.

“uuuuughhh shotoooo~” you moan, throwing your head back against the headboard. “you’re not supposed to say ‘oh’ !” you’re face changes from grumpy to deadpan as you lower your voice slightly to try and mimic him. on any other day this would’ve made him laugh but he’s beyond lost at this point. he clears his throat before speaking again.

“ i don’t know what i’m supposed to say—or what i did for you to want to sell me.” he thinks “and for 3 dollars at that.”

you let out a laugh when you process his words and shoto’s shoulders magically feel lighter at the sound. carefully, he slides a little closer to the side of your bed so he can stand at your bedside. little by little. you pretend you don't notice.

"it's what you deserve for not askin' me to be your valentine."

the secret’s finally out and you get to see how the cog wheels in his head are starting to turn in real time, it has you holding back a giggle when he looks up at you like a deer in headlights.

“is that..why you were mad ?” you nod, humming out a playful mhmm

“ya really hurt my feelings you know ? to think my own boyfriend wouldn’t ask me” you clench your fist over your heart and fake sob dramatically.

shoto huffs out a laugh, relieved to see you’re not actually mad, and goes to sit down on your bed. he tentatively reaches for your hand and squeezes it twice when you let him hold it. before bringing it up to his lips and placing a sweet little kiss to it. it feels as if pop rocks are going off inside of you.

“ i’m sorry for not asking you to be my valentine.” he apologizes, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing your hand “ i was thinking i should’ve, but i didn’t want you to think it was weird since we’re already dating.” his thumb goes to run over your fingers “ i was worried me being too intense would scare you off.” he mumbles.

your eyebrows furrow, you lean towards him to make him look at you “ you wouldn’t scare me off, who told you that ?”

“kaminari. he said ‘coming on too strong scares away the babes.’ ” shoto quotes

you sigh. of course it was that bigmouth portable charger filling his head with this stuff.

you pull your hand out of his grasp and he looks up to protest but you grab his face in your hands before he can say anything, you can practically see him start melting at the contact as he blinks at you slowly, he reminds you of a cat.

“sho” you purr, rubbing his cheeks “ rule number one is never ever listening to kaminari’s dating advice. most of the time it is very wrong.” you explain.

shoto presses his mouth to the palm of your hand “yeah, i’m starting to regret that now.” he speaks into it, you snort. he leans in closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips and you reciprocate, pressing a few more kisses on his lips for good measure “ i’m really sorry for not asking you.” he says in between pecks. you hum in response to him placing even more kisses all around your face. “s’okay. i’m also kinda sorry for putting you up for sale.” you say, running your fingers through his hair while he places kisses on your shoulder.

he lifts his head up to look at you then, an eyebrow raised with an amused expression on his face “kinda sorry ?” he asks.

you nod “mhm. kinda sorry.”

he chuckles to himself, then gets up so he can climb into bed next to you. when he’s positioned how he likes it, with his head in your lap while you comb through his hair with your fingers, he sighs peacefully “well, it wasn’t all bad. i’m glad you think i’m a good cook.”

“what about the crusty feet ?”

“i’m choosing to ignore that part.” shoto smirks lightly to himself when he hears you laugh at his joke, clearly proud of himself for it. “and i will buy you anything you want, to make it up to you.”

“i don’t need you to buy me anything, sho” you roll your eyes with a lovesick smile “ all you gotta do is ask.”

he blinks up at you, looks off the the side as if he’s deep in thought, and suddenly gets off your lap to sit right in front of you. you never think you’ll get over how pretty your boyfriend is and being reminded of it with how close he is to you makes you flustered. he leans in to kiss you passionately and you don’t know if it’s the love he pours into it or the lack of air that has you so dizzy, you don’t dwell on it.

when he pulls away he’s looking at you like you hung up the stars in the sky and he simply, almost shyly smiles at you and asks.

“ will you be my valentine ?”

bakugou katsuki ♥︎

you did not expect katsuki to come barging into your dorm room five minutes after you’d posted your tiktok. the loud sound of someone banging on your door and proceeding to let themselves in seconds later causes you to let out a squeak.

in comes katsuki, phone tightly clutched in his hand and the moment his eyes zeroed on you he’s like a bull charging at a red flag. he stands right in front of you, angry frown on display before he shoves his phone in your face.

“explain this. now.” he growls, you have to hold back a laugh, keeping your face as calm as possible you look between him, his screen then back at your phone.

“what’s confusing about it ? i thought i was being pretty straight forward.”

his eye twitches. “why the hell did you put me up for sale ?! and for three dollars and fifty fuckin’ cents ?!” he exclaims, you can’t help the snort that bursts out of you, though katsuki doesn’t look as amused as you are.

“explain.” he deadpans.

“i think you can figure it out.” you shrug back.

he mutters insults to himself that you can’t catch “well obviously fuckin’ not, cus I wouldn’t be askin’ you if i did.” you simply shrug and look back at your phone. “i wrote it in the caption.”

it takes him a second to process then he’s tapping his password and opening the clock app at super sonic speed. his eyebrows furrow and you see him tapping away at his phone. his eyes widen when he reads your caption and he looks down at you with a mix of desperation and disbelief.

“you’re mad cus I didn’t ask you to be my valentine ?” your bratty huff and turn to the side as you shrug again is all the answer he needs. he looks at you for about 5 seconds longer then sighs.

he sits down on your bed and keeps staring. katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things and one of those things is you ignoring him. a warm hand on your ankle startles you and you can’t even ask him what he’s doing before your being yanked towards him. you squeal, almost missing the smirk on his face or the huff of laughter at your reaction. almost though, so you glare at him. katsuki looms over you until your noses almost touch, then you turn away with a huff. he chuckles, pressing his lips to your neck.

“ yer such a baby, y’know that ?” he mumbles, smirking against you neck. you huff but make no effort to shrug him off “ no i’m not, jerk. is it so wrong for me to want my boyfriend to ask me to be his valentine’s ?” you grumble, trying to ignore the feel of his warm lips against your skin, it’s not working so well for you.

“s’not what i’m sayin, sweets” he nips at your earlobe “‘m sayin’ ya coulda just told me ‘stead of bein’ a baby about it.” you can’t tell if this is his way of trying to apologize. either way, you don’t want to give in just yet.

“i’m not supposed to tell you to ask me to be your valentine’s katsuki, that’s not the point~ !” you huff petulantly. you feel a but childish but, c’mon ! it’s a given to have your boyfriend as your valentine and it wouldn’t hurt your demon spawn of a boyfriend to be a little but romantic once in a while.

he playfully rolls his eyes at you “see, what’d i tell you? big baby.” leaning forward he nips at your nose making you groan and trying to push him away with your palm. katsuki being the powerhouse that he is, doesn’t budge. “ i didn’t think to ask ya cus you’re already mine. so why should i need to ask something that’s a given ?”

your heart beats faster at his words and katsuki takes his chance when he feels you loosing up more and more. suddenly he’s got your wrists in his grip, holding them above you and looking down at you with that sickeningly handsome smirk. you’re almost there, he can practically feel it.

“i—i’m..still mad at you” you stutter out weakly, your defenses are down.

“yeah ?” he taunts.

“yeah. apologize.”

he scoffs, rolling his eyes lightheartedly “why should i apologize ? you said my fuckin’ feet stink.”

“ ah, ah, ah.” you tut “don’t put words in my mouth, i said your feet were crusty.”

“yeah, thanks babe. that makes it so much better.” he sasses, you laugh “and i complimented you ! i said you were an amazing cook !”

“yeah but that ain’t a compliment, ‘ts a fact.” he says matter of factly, you’re eyes threaten to get stuck at the back of your skull with how hard you roll them and he snickers.

he dives in and steals a kiss, and then another one when you don’t stop him. when he pulls away to catch his breath, ready to steal another kiss you stop him by placing your hand on his chest. he looks down at you questioningly and you give him a raised brow in response. he groans.

“fine. m’sorry” he concedes quietly

“foooorrr ?” you urge.

he narrows his eyes at you as if saying “don’t push it” but swallows his words down “ for not askin’ you to be my valentine’s or whatever the fuck” he shoves his now hot face into your neck and mumbles “now quit bein’ all pissed at me.”

you’re happy enough with that, so you wrap your arms around his neck, one of your hands creeping up his nape and into his hair. he sighs contentedly, clearly enjoying the attention you’re giving him.

“thank you. i’m also sorry for saying you have crusty feet.” hearing him scoff at the accusation makes you giggle “and for putting you up for sale.” he hums, happy with your apology.

“..kinda.”

“oi.” he warns. you giggle in response continuing your ministrations in his hair.

“you still haven’t asked me so..” you trail off. he lifts his head up to look at you with a blond eyebrow raised.

“ does this valentine shit really matter that much to you ?” he asks.

you respond immediately “yes.” nodding aggressively to make your point.

he sighs, shaking his head. he looks at you, then looks off to the side in embarrassment, he can be so cute when he wants to be. steeling his nerves he looks you straight in the eyes. fearless with fierce red cheeks and all.

“b-be my valentine, idiot..”

[stave-writes]

hello!! may i request mitrun and thistle(separately) x artist!reader who is very interested in their appearance, but hides it very well. most of the time they did not notice the reader's interest in their appearance(and they don't really notice the reader either lol), but one day, approaching the reader from behind to discuss something, they make some very high-quality sketches with them?? I hope this is not a very long request and don't forget to drink water!! :)

Mithrun & Thistle (Seperately) x Artist!GN!Reader

Word Count: 555

So sorry about how long this took to come out! Been fighting writer's block but the power of Mithrun debut (!!!!!) is forcing me to make sure I'm up to date with requests ^^

Also in terms of writing Thistle, I view them as mentally still underage so this will be platonic for them, sorry to disappoint at all ^^'

Mithrun could never understand why you look at him like you do, with a gaze full of curiosity and hiding behind your sketchbook when he catches you. Was there something in his hair? Did he do something to upset you? He tended not to pay you any mind, after all, he didn't care about much anymore. So, when asked by a mutual friend to go talk to you, he wasn't exactly against it.

He'd chosen to approach you from behind, simply to see how you'd react. It was funny seeing people jump or flinch when he teleported behind them, even if he didn't have a desire to play around like a child. So, he'd appeared behind you, face leaning right over your shoulder and opening his mouth to speak before he saw it. A...sketch of him?

It made more sense now, that you'd been watching him so often, that you were always face first in your sketchbook when he was around. You'd been drawing him, and he wasn't against it. In fact, the amount of detail was impressive, even if the visible bags under his eyes and the gauntness of his face did make him recoil just a bit.

"Good job." Was his quiet mutter, turning to look you in the face while you were visibly dying with a mix of surprise and embarrassment that you'd been caught by the very man who filled pages and pages of your sketchbook. A smile couldn't help but rise on his face, chuckling softly as he moved away from your personal space. It seemed he mulled his words for a second before shrugging, speaking plainly, "Someone sent me to come get you, said they have a message for you."

And with that deadpan speech, he was gone. Although, anyone who ran into the Captain that day did seem to think he was a little...sunnier than usual. Odd.

Thistle on the other hand is used to posing for portraits with his family, sitting politely still for the painters or being urged to smile brightly to not distract from Delgal or Yaad. He quite enjoyed not being the focus of the paintings, especially with his ears not paid much attention to.

So it was a little confusing when, as he draped himself to look over your shoulder, he saw a sketch of him. With his white hair tied up into the bun, it'd been in for the last 1000 years, and his ears were floppy slightly with youth but still pointed due to his elf heritage. It was a little flattering, being the subject of someone's art!

Smiling brighter than he had for a while, Thistle leant his head on your shoulder, peering up at you with those curious purple eyes and waiting for your reaction. It was a little confusing when you seemed almost upset he'd found your work. Was...he not supposed to see it?

"It looks good! Why didn't you show me it?" Thistle queried, leaning his elbows on your shoulder with a head tipped to the side, as if tilting his head would just knock understanding right into place. Even when you explained they were just personal sketches, Thistle let out a huff. "I like them. Can you make me one to have?" Eventually, you agreed with a sigh. He was lucky he was so damn cute.

[noemilivv]

A shameless request of a Lute x demon GN where they bump into each other during an intermission during the court hearing for sinners to be redeemed. They start out pissed off at each other from the abrupt collision…and that hate turns into attraction 🤌🏻

heyyy!! yeah ofc i can do that for ya haha. hope you enjoy!!

i’m doing headcanons since writers block is a bitch and i don’t have the ideas to write a full oneshot for this lol

Lute x GN!Demon!Reader

Romantic Headcanons

You went along side Charlie and Vaggie up to Heaven to prove that souls could be redeemed and ascend to Heaven.

Honestly, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, you had only heard brief stories about Adam and even fewer about his lieutenant, Lute, so you weren’t sure what kinds of ‘Heavenly’ souls you were bound to meet

During the dispute between the whole courtroom, Lute pulled off her mask in a fit of rage, and wow, I mean, you hated her, but damn.

The court meeting was put on hold while both Seraphims attempted to calm down Adam and Charlie, you and Vaggie stood outside, where Lute also was

You and Lute exchanged nasty glares, but you both looked eachother up and down softly, no judgement, just soft stares, although when the other looked back it was back to harsh looks.

Both of you examined eachother, in awe of the others appearances, and Lute couldn’t help but scold herself in her head.

You were a vile, crude, and disgusting demon. How could she think someone like you was even mildly attractive? You were mediocre, at best, obviously…

Truth be told, she definitely pushed Adam to have more meetings between Heaven and Hell more often, and to be invited to them, for no reason in particular…

[tremendum]

heaven is a place on earth ; joel miller

02; stopping and stalling

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au (pre-outbreak, altered ages), Joel Miller x fem!nanny!reader. dedicated to the anon who suggested this trope.

↬   prologue  part one series masterlist main masterlist

↬     "after only a few weeks, your mind spits at you - only a few weeks, and you already fucked this up."

↬     warnings; tagged 18+ for eventual smut and mature themes. MDNI. age gap (reader is 22, joel is 35), fiscal anxieties, shitty ex, brief mention of marijuana use, some Tommy x reader, brief allusions to masturbation, fantasies, brief hand kink, brief scent kink (???lol), brief praise kink (use of term girl), car talk tbh im sorry... also light angst/anxiety i guess, fluff. reader is described as smaller than joel.

↬     heyyyyy guys! thanks for being patient, i had some writer's block but im finally back! i hope you like the next part of this series, lmk what u think/if theres anything you'd like to read w this trope. also im sorry i cant help that there is flirting with tommy too,,, i need them both expeditiously lol. xoxo love u all

series mixtape, song three; In Too Deep, Sum 41. 2000.

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"shit."

thighs burning, your shoes squish against the soaked pavement as you carry yourself as fast as possible down the sidewalk. "shit, shit, shit."

the rain that pours from the sky is unforgiving; your hair slides in a stringy mess against your neck as you try to calm your heartbeat, blurrily watching as the house grows larger in your wavering vision.

bottom lip quivering, you ignore the cold shiver that comes up your spine; why today? why, why today?

you're afraid to check your cellphone; hell, you haven't even thought to check it until now! shit. Joel's probably pissed.

you let out a pathetic groan, heart hammering as you ignore the time on your wristwatch: 8:21am. twenty-one minutes late.

fuck, you think. fuck fuck fuck.

you could have texted Joel - in fact, any rational person would have probably had that immediate thought after their car sputtered to a stop on the side of the road, smoke slinking from the side of their hood as the rain splattered aggressively on the windshield.

you should have texted him, let him know you'd be late - but then, you'd gone into your damn glovebox to check your AAA number and been reminded unpleasantly of what you've been working hard to forget; your ex's full name boasted across the registration for the car had sent you into a near frenzy. everything that's built up - the near-eviction, the breakup, the move, the rain, your car. all of it hit you at once.

there's no way you can afford to pay for a fixed engine (and shit, you don't even know if the engine is the problem) without insurance, and your dickhole ex has still not signed any of the paperwork for you to take the title of the car back. so. shit.

for over twenty minutes you've been trudging through the rain - you're soaked to the bone, fighting back tears, and already wondering if you'll be able to take back your full-time job at the library. 

after only a few weeks, your mind spits at you as you turn the corner up the driveway, only a few weeks and you already fucked this up. 

you have to shut your eyes harshly as the front door opens; whoever's on the other side must have been watching out the window for any sign of you - and here you are, washing up on the Miller's driveway like a batch of late season seaweed; a wet puppy, shaking and trying not to have a full breakdown, your eyes clenched shut. 

Joel's voice finds your ears as you finally make it onto the porch - a respite from the downpour, there's just a slight breeze that blows mists of rainwater over your cold form.

you feel like an idiot. you cannot afford to lose this job. you're a fool. 

Joel says your name in concern; a far cry from the anger you'd expected. "y'okay? what happened?”

you take a shaky breath, meeting his eyes - they're warm, honeyed in the darkened skies of the morning and it makes you feel so much worse. he must've slept in, too - odd, considering it's a Wednesday - he's wearing pajama flannels, a gray shirt, and his hair is fluffed out - curling up at the ends, the tips still damp from a shower. Tommy's work boots are gone from the front - he must've gone to work, Joel staying back to wait on your tardiness. fuck.

"I'm so sorry, Joel-" your throat closes up, blinking back the emotion that wavers in your voice. you feel stupid. "I'm so sorry I'm late-" you shake your head, praying to every god up above or below to make your lip stop wobbling so pathetically. 

but Joel doesn't hesitate to step aside, brows drawn low, "come in, you're soakin' wet." 

you bite your lip as you shuffle inside, barely registering the hovering palm on the small of your back as you awkwardly stand on their doormat, focusing your eyes blearily on the darkness of the house. 

the overcast storm throws the usually warm, sunny house into a bout of cool blues and grays - the drawings on the wall, the guitar in the corner reflecting the rolling clouds from the window panes. you suck a breath through your lungs and ignore the way it draws short - either you're very close to crying, or you really need to stop smoking so much weed. probably both. 

"did you walk all the way here?" Joel asks, brows furrowed in that kind look of concern, eyes flickering to the storm outside and back to you. "where's your car?" 

this brings a fresh bout of tears to your eyes and you look up towards the high vaulted ceiling of their foyer, shaking your head. 

"my car broke down, just off Park Street, and I can't-" you sigh, biting back the sting of tears, "I can't take it in, and it was pouring rain and I didn't want to ruin your day-" you are forced to take a sharp inhale, letting out stuttered breaths. you shake your head, hands rising to wipe what's surely the streaks of mascara that have gathered under your eyes, your clothes still sticking to you and hair dripping solemn pools onto Joel's hardwood. "I'm just so sorry that I'm late. I swear, it'll never happen again." 

something in his face becomes very soft - maybe it's the lighting, that casts a slight shadow from his nose, or the way his brows gather together in an upwards tick, but he shakes his head at it makes your heart pang. 

"didn't you see my text, darlin'?" he says softly, "we called off working today. 's too stormy to do construction." 

the name drips from his lips so casually you barely register it fully. your cheeks heat; you're not sure if it's more from his use of the term or from the slow realization washing you in a wave of embarrassment. darlin' - you're not unused to people using words like that, hell, you grew up here - but it's different coming from his mouth.

you ingore that thought; your hands shake slightly as you move to pull out your phone - your purse is soaked too, three shades darker than it usually is. the buttons on your cellphone are damp and your heart pangs when you wonder if it'll be ruined from water damage - but there it is, a text from Joel about forty minutes ago: 

Rain is coming down pretty hard today. You don't need to come over—Sarah and I can manage. Take the day off and relax, you deserve it.

Thanks. Joel

your throat closes tight: "oh," you squeak, biting your lip as the screen becomes blurry; relief floods through you just as embarrassment does - a fun cocktail in your veins that makes you smile weakly. "didn't-" you clear your throat, "didn't see that." 

only a split moment of silence in which the house withstands the assault of rain on its roof; Joel hums, "here, let me get you a towel.”

he disappears down the hall and you take the moment to breathe deep; letting the warmth of the house seep into you, your hands tremble with the emotional strain of humiliation that is coursing through you. what a fool. your heart beats hard in your throat, but there is a large relief when you understand that Joel does not seem keen on firing you for being 20 minutes late to the job he told you not to come in for. you curse yourself for not checking your text messages before leaving your apartment this morning.

Joel returns quickly, towel in hand; you take it and can only bring yourself to whisper your thanks into the empty foyer. 

“don’t worry about it." he says, shrugging one shoulder, "y'said your car's on Park Street- that's over a mile away, why didn’t you call me?”

you strain the water from your hair with the towel, clutching the scent of the warm fabric to you; it's not pink like the one's in Sarah's bathroom, and with a heat on your cheeks, you register it must be one of Joel's. shrugging, you shake your head. “I didn’t want to bother you - or, I guess I was just...distracted. my car… is sort of complicated.”

Joel’s brow furrows, “complicated?”

you hesitate - you don't want to come off to your current 'employer' as untrustworthy or reckless, but it's Joel - he's kind, understanding, if not a bit aloof at times; but you trust him. you swallow with a bitter chuckle, “the car’s title is still in my ex’s name. I can’t bring it to a shop without him, and I don’t know how to even check under the hood myself-”

your hand flies to your face to furiously wipe away the tears of humiliation that fall; great. just what you needed - to cry in front of him like a baby. 

“hey," a hand, warm and heavy, falls to your shoulder; your wet eyes trail to his figure, where he soothes over your shivering arm. you miss its presence as he pulls back away, "if you want, I’ll take a look at it when the rain stops.”

you shake your head, "I couldn't ask you to do that." 

"you're not askin' me, I'm offerin'." he insists; you meet his eyes to find generosity swirling in that honeyed brown; you smile up at him with a watery gaze, unsure how to thank him.

"you can stay here 'till then, or I can give you a ride back to your place in a bit when Tommy gets back. he had t'run to the job site to get our tools." 

you look up at him, craning your neck as you search his expression for any hint of irritation or anger - none. you flush as you wipe under your eyes again, “thank you, Joel. I'm sorry, again, for this..." you look down, gesturing vaguely to yourself,  "...mess." 

he holds your gaze for a moment, as the rain pours against the slats of the house and the panes of the windows, and shakes his head slightly. your stomach rolls over as you stand, still shaking with the nerves and cold, not breaking contact: something about his utter calm in the middle of your hurricane-mind has your face hot. 

Joel opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, a light on the stairwell flips on, and footsteps slide down the stairs, as if Sarah has taken to sliding down the carpet on the balls of her feet. you used to do something similar as a kid.

“dad?” Sarah mumbles, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she appears on the stairs; Joel takes a quick step back from you, the distance sudden and coaxing another rush of surprise to confusion over your cheeks - had he really been standing that close? you have no time to analyze the action before he's speaking to her. 

 “morning, sweetpea." he says, clearing his throat. Sarah's eyes meet yours and they widen slightly, padding over to you and saying your name softly, "are you okay?" she asks as she takes your hand gently. such a sweet girl.

you force a smile, weakened from the moment you'd just had, from the morning you've had; her eyes are so full of that same concern her father carries, though, and it warms your heart. you nod, “I’m alright, Sarah. just a little wet from the rain." you shift on the balls of your feet as your gaze flickers to Joel - he nods, looking back to his daughter, "well, how about we get you some breakfast?” he suggests. inadvertently you become aware of your own rumbling stomach, having come back to life after the realization that you aren't losing your job today. 

Sarah nods, her sleepy face breaking into a smile, “pancakes?”

Joel grins; it's as if the tension eases from the room as he nods back at her, “pancakes it is. 'm right behind you, sweetpea.”

Sarah traipses to the kitchen; you stay back awkwardly, watching as she disappears - Joel turns back to you, lifting a brow. "I can take a look at your car after the rain stops later this afternoon, or if y'want, I can take you home when Tommy's back?" he says, eyeing the keyhooks that remain empty by the front door; you shift on your feet, itching to flee, but itching to stay and embrace the warmth you've come to enjoy in this house. he continues with a small smirk, "-if you stay, I can't offer much besides some mediocre pancakes and some even more mediocre coffee." 

despite your humiliation and exhaustion, you can't help the short laugh at Joel's valiant attempt to lighten your mood; unfortunately his charm is undeniable, and you're reminded of what Michelle said to you those days ago: 

Joel is a nice man. just- don't get into trouble. 

you curb your smile, lifting a brow when you hear Sarah's voice call from the kitchen, yelling your name and dragging out the vowels. "-come help me with breakfast!"

you glance back to Joel, "if you really don't mind, then I'd like to stay," you say smally with a smile. "if I went home, I'd just lay around and mope. plus," you nod your chin towards the kitchen, "seems like you've been demoted from sous chef." you tease, finding a bit of yourself returning in the comfort of the sweet girl you nanny and her father. 

he grins back at you, shaking his head, "I don't doubt you'd make a better sous than me, darlin'-" he takes in your still soaking shirt, "but you should take a shower, I'm worried you'll catch a cold in those clothes."

Joel leads you upstairs, into the master bathroom.

you school yourself, keeping your eyes on his large frame, not daring to look around at his bedroom and all the different pieces of Joel you've yet to discover. you're used to Sarah's room, with pinks and blues and purples and action figures and textbooks - not this adult bedroom, with t-shirts and framed photos and a heavy scent of amber and cedarwood. 

he hands you a stack of clean clothes - a flannel and what seems to be a pair of sweatpants; you smile gratefully, ignoring the heat on your cheeks and in your chest; a feeling nestles in your heart, stuck halfway between humiliation and some kind of intimacy, neither of which feel right in this moment. 

you shake it off as he tells you to take your time, disappearing back down the hallway with a mutter about ensuring nobody set the kitchen on fire yet. 

you close and lock the bathroom door behind you, leaning against it for a moment to catch your breath.

the last hour has been a whirlwind: losing your car, almost losing your job, the humiliation of walking in the rain, showing up to work when you had the day off - all of it catches up to you. 

but instead of crying again, you let out a short huff, shaking your head. you'll be okay - smiling watery to yourself in the mirror, you puff your cheeks and blow the air out slowly. Joel won't fire you. you'll get help with the car. deeeep breath. 

the bathroom is small and intimate and you find it heats up very quickly as you run the shower; within forty seconds the mirror begins to fog and you're wrapped in a cocoon of warmth that eases the chill that's seeped into your bones. you peel off your wet clothes with still-shaking hands, slipping under the heat of the stream quickly. 

you stand, staring at the wall, for several minutes before snapping out of it; a thick scent has begun to leak its way into the steam of the shower, and you eye the culprit - an opened, unscrewed bottle of some kind of men's body wash. you blink with heated cheeks as you're suddenly assaulted with visions of Joel in this very shower; the thought sends your heart racing and you swallow thickly, not able to resist the temptation to lather it over your own body.  

the smell is that same amber scent, citrusy and male - you don't mind it as you let the suds slide off your skin, trying not to think about him. Joel. his kindness, his concern, his hands- you shake your head, trying to dispel the thoughts; it's not right, you tell yourself.

just- don't get into trouble. 

it isn't right to think of him this way, especially when he's just being kind - especially when he's so much older, especially when you're the nanny for his daughter. 

but your hands linger on your skin, the scent of Joel's soap mingling with the steam, creating an intoxicating mix that makes your head spin; the soft weight of his hand soothing your shoulder, how it'd feel if he dragged those hands down - a pang of guilt and you quickly push the thought away, snapping back to the present. 

you slam off the showerhead, shaking your mind of your polluting thoughts. 

the towel Joel gave you earlier dries you off quickly, and you wipe away a small section of the mirror to see your reflection - you pull the clothes on he'd given you, cuffing the length of the pants, buttoning the warm flannel over yourself with a small smile. 

you don't let yourself wallow any longer; the smell of breakfast wafts up through the vents and into Joel's bedroom as you exit, a swirl of steam curling around you as you towel-dry your hair, recalling the comb that lives in Sarah's bathroom drawer. 

the warmth of the shower does wonders.

you pad down the stairs, only feeling vaguely odd wearing borrowed clothes, smiling as your stomach rolls in hunger - you feel much more composed. 

when you make it down, the dining table is set: four placemats, four plates, cups with orange juice, and three mugs of coffee. you raise a brow, "did I miss the fun?" you ask gently. 

Joel and Sarah are bustling around the kitchen, putting the final touch on breakfast - pancakes, fruit, the works. 

"-fun just arrived, actually." a voice from the hall makes your stomach flip, heat traveling up your neck. Tommy must've gotten home while you were showering. 

you roll your eyes good-naturedly as Tommy comes around the corner from the garage, nodding at you in greeting. "you look nice and cozy." he observes, eyes roving over your figure drowning in Joel's clothes. your lips press together, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach at his observation of your clothing. there is no implication - you're the nanny, it's all innocent, but the look he's giving you is not. as if he knows how Joel makes your heart thud and your mind fuzzy. 

"car broke down." you say quickly, sitting where Sarah directs you. Tommy hums, a look that could be read as skeptical, teasing, flickering across his face. Joel flips a final pancake in the pan, pacing over to slide it onto your plate gently. when he leans over you, he's close enough to ask quietly, "you feel better?"

it's soft, kind, as if he's cautious not to air out your previous breakdown to the others in the room. you're grateful. 

"yes. thank you." you say back, smiling genuinely at the man, eyes roving over the moustache which sits on his upper lip, the beard that's grown in and rises to meet his air-dried curls. he returns to work on another culinary project as Sarah places the fruit on the table and drags Tommy to sit down.

there's a bag that Joel is pouring a mixture into; some kind of meat inside, and you hum. Joel really is a very handsome man. "marinade?" you ask.

he looks over at you, nodding, "yeah, s'for the cookout this weekend." he sets the bowl down, sealing the bag. "you coming?" 

you smile tightly, nodding - any excuse to get outside, to see Joel, Sarah, Tommy, even Michelle and Dan. "should be," you say, anxiously looking over to where your car keys now hang next to Joel's near the front door - he must've hung them up for you while you were upstairs. Joel hums, "good." 

Sarah beams at you when everybody takes a seat. "dad said you get to stay with us until the rain stops." she says, poorly concealing her excitement with a grin. you smile back, nodding as you sip on the coffee poured for you. "yes, ma'am." you respond, stretching your legs out a bit under the table.  

"lucky us," Tommy says through a bite of pancake. you huff at his harmless flirting; you just miss the subtle glare Joel shoots his brother. oblivious, Sarah hums. "I hope it never stops raining!" 

it eventually does stop raining. 

it's a little before dinner; the air is fresh and damp, the grass that peculiar shade of green against the backdrop of those high thunderclouds that retreat after their previous downpour. with only a light breeze, the air is charged with some kind of electricity as you breathe in the the scent of petrichor it carries with it. 

"right," the voice says next to you.

Joel's arms are propped against your shitty car, his brows furrowed in focus. the engine still glistens with raindrops, and there's a small line of moisture that caught on the fabric of Joel's shirt from where he'd popped the hood of your car. 

"first things first. let's check the battery connections - sometimes they can get loose or corroded." he mutters, directing you with a long, thick finger over to your car battery; you nod, trying your best to pay attention. 

a finger traces along the seam of a smaller edge of the battery terminal, scarcely avoiding touching it. "see this white, powdery stuff?" he's looking at you; it takes you only a split second as you realize he's waiting for you to answer. you nod quickly, "y-yeah." 

he nods, "that’s corrosion. luckily it's not too bad here, but it can cause issues."

you hum, taking a mental note as you bite your lip - thankful that he's taking the time to actually explain what goes on in the inside of your car, seeing as you're next to hopeless.

he gestures again. "d'you know what this is?" he asks, and it's as if god has given you a freebie from your turmoil this morning; you nod, grinning slightly. "it's where you fill the brake fluid." you say in affirmation. "I have some extra in the trunk." you supplement, glad you're not a total idiot when it comes to the car. 

he nods, "been takin' care of that. good girl," he gestures to the side, "these here are spark plugs - good to keep an eye on, because they can get dirty or worn out and cause the car to have trouble starting. these also look alright, though."

you're barely listening, though; your ears are buzzing heartbeat thumping as you school the flush over your cheeks at such a casual praise - something he'd probably not even think twice of, because you're his daughter's babysitter, god damn it, but you can't help the stirring deep within you. 

good girl. jesus.

you press your lips together and force yourself to relax, to calm the fluttering in your stomach the heat in your lower abdomen. eventually, Joel reaches the fuel pump - "here we go. I think this might be the culprit." he turns to you, squinting against the late afternoon sun, "if the fuel pump isn't working properly, it can prevent the engine from getting the fuel it needs to run." 

he gestures for you to look and leans back a bit; leaning over to peer into the belly of your car, at all its metal guts and ominous sputterings, you suddenly catch a scent - a mix of your handlotion you'd applied on the ride over with Joel's soap from his shower stuck to your skin and wafting in the air, a pleasant smell.

your stomach flutters as you try to follow Joel's explanation, "'kay...how can you tell it's the fuel pump that's the problem?" you ask him, turning to squint up at him. 

"there's-" another gentle breeze, then, and Joel pauses; you stare back at him, unsure what's caught his attention, but then it's over quicker than it started. blinking at you, he clears his throat and nods, pointing to the part, "there’s a few ways, but mainly if your car cranked out while drivin', or if it starts an' then stalls, it's often a sign of a fuel pump problem." he taps it with two fingers, "this one looks pretty worn out."

you bite your lip, cursing your ignorance and the stupidity of your ex for insisting on taking care of the car jut to completely ignore it and take it for an oil change only every few blue moons. 

"can it be fixed?" you can't hide the anxiety in your voice. 

"course." Joel nods, closing the hood; you don't flinch at the sound, too worried by the engine. "'m not quite good enough to do it myself, but i've got a buddy down in town that can do it for ya for cheap." he smiles gently, "should only be a few hundred." 

your throat dries, stomach dropping. "c-couple hundred?" you hiss, pressing your lips together. "okay."

okay.

okay: you can take a few more shifts at the library, double up your days; that's fine, that's fine. you'll have to fix your car before your cellphone, but you'll be fine without texting for a while. maybe you could sell your portable CD player or some clothes for some cash. okay, shit. 

shit. 

you laugh mirthlessly, "I... I don't have that kind of money right now." you say awkwardly, "but at least I live close to the bus stop." you add, wondering how much a bus pass is. certainly less than that. 

"-listen, i'd be happy to help you out with it," Joel says, and your hackles raise in embarrassment, "-no, Joel, I can't ask that of you. you've already done so much." you say, looking down at yourself, still clad in his flannel and pants. 

he shrugs, as if it's no big deal. "could pay you advance. let me help you." 

you swallow thickly, biting your lip. "I feel bad, Joel. I already put you out." 

"hey," he says, turning to look at you - he leans slightly on the hood of your car, gaze burning into the side of your face. you flush, but meet his eyes. "don't worry about it. I can pay you ahead for your work to cover for it. all you've put me out on is a few pancakes, a cup of coffee, and my patience with my brother."

the mention of Tommy makes you flush with embarrassment, floundering, "oh. Joel, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" 

he shakes his head, with a grin - he was teasing you. "Tommy's always been a flirt. I trust you can handle your own." he adds, "but you let me know if he's too much, yeah?"

something about his tone makes you even more flustered, though, and you grin, shrugging. "yeah. you'll be the first to know." you say, wondering how many people he's had to say that to in his life. 

he says nothing to this, but you clear your throat, looking at him, "um...thank you for your help. this morning, with the car- all of it." you say, smiling awkwardly, "i've had a hard time adjusting to a lot of recent...life changes and..." you feel like you're oversharing, so you stop short, "just. you've all been very kind to me." you finish. "i'm so thankful for this job." 

Joel watches you, gaze flickering between your eyes for a few moments before he nods, "'course, darlin'. life can throw some curveballs, huh?" he nudges your shoulder and as you sway back you can't help the soft smile that grows, hiding it as you look away. darlin'.  

"you're doing great, though. Sarah and I, we're glad to have you." he affirms. you smile into the metal of your car hood.

"let’s get your car started now, yeah?" he asks. 

you're sat in the driver's seat.

Joel leans through the window to hold down the switch on your steering wheel as you turn the keys, the small Tamagotchi on your keychain knocking against your wrist as he instructs you to pump the gas pedal. 

after a few tries the engine sputters to life; you let out a stuttered sigh of relief, smiling and letting out one small clap. 

Joel smiles, "there she is," he taps the dash above your steering wheel with the flat of his large palm, leaning slightly. as he turns to lean out the window, his eyes meet yours - face to face, he's much closer than either of you anticipated.

you're struck with the proximity; for a moment, his face is inches from yours. 

and then the moment stretches out, your heart skipping a beat - you can see the few freckles that have grown over the bridge of his strong nose, the way his breath leaves his lips, the smile lines and faint dimple, his eyelashes lit from the sun behind you. 

Joel clears his throat, stepping back from the window with a tap to the roof of your car. you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"alright, you’re all set. just drive carefully, okay? let the engine run for a few minutes when you get home."

you nod, voice softer than you hoped it'd be, "I will. thanks again, Joel."

he nods in that way he always does, the same nod that you always see in Sarah. "be safe. see you tomorrow."

Joel leans against his truck as you peel away, off the side of the road and joining the sparse few cars on the road, the remaining rainwater slicking against tires in the distance. you swear you see him wave before he slips up into the cab of the truck, figure growing smaller in your rearview with each passing moment. 

you let the car run when you return to your apartment, biting your lip dumbly and staring down at your ruined phone, at the warped message that sits on your screen.

 

Call me if you need a ride in the morning- Sarah and I can pick you up. 

Have a good night. Joel

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there is no longer a taglist; follow @tremendumnotifs to be notified when i post.

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[sophieinwonderland]

Hi sophie (again) one really quick note, the reason i read through your ENTIRE blog is because my dissertation is on facetious disorders portrayed and influenced by social media and the likes of such- it is literally a 250 page document about people like you. It's literally a part of my research to read long-winded things like this and write about them. My livelihood revolves around this. I don't expect to see a Dr. before your name, but you can damn well expect to see it before mine.

The only reason I sent that ask and wrote a targeted post was to get a response from you. The only reason. Had some writers block lol, I needed some material 😅😅

Another note to add to the grooming part was not about LGBTQ or transgender people as I am both myself. Please do not take it as a jab to your gender identity, and I apologize if it came off that way. It was in no way meant to insult you in that regard.

First, thanks for clarifying about the use of grooming. I don't mean to suggest you did intend it as a remark about my gender identity.

But I do think it's important to note in a "you are not immune to propaganda" way. Because I think, consciously or unconsciously, anti-endos have adopted transphobic talking points.

I assume and hope that this is unconscious. That rather than looking at how conservatives have used these talking points to harm queer communities and going "yeah, we can use that talking point too with these people we don't like," this absorption and repetition of these talking points is happening on a subconscious level. In which case, I think it's important to understand where they've originated and what the history is behind them.

As well as what misusing these terms normalizes. Because repeating them does contribute to a culture that is okay with using "grooming" this way to associate people they don't like with child abusers.

Now, allow me to first commend you on starting work on your dissertation so early. Working on it at just 20 is quite impressive indeed.

Although I have to question the subject matter.

A factitious disorder is when somebody is faking a disorder or pretending to have a disorder. It seems strange that you would seek to use examples of people who do not actually have a disorder and are not claiming to.

Even if endogenic systems were lying, unless they're presenting themselves as having a disorder they weren't, they wouldn't qualify for criterion B.

If you do want to write about people who have plural experiences without having trauma or a disorder, you might want to actually read my studies and research page. I'm sure that you could find stuff there that could help you on your journey.

And if you plan on writing about tulpamancy, specifically, Dr. Samuel Veissiere's Variety of Tulpa Experiences is probably most useful in understanding the tulpamancy community and viewpoints on the practice.

I would also recommend Learning to Discern the Voices of Gods, Spirits, Tulpas, and the Dead, as it offers a great comparison between tulpamancy and other forms of non-pathological voice hearing.

I imagine that these studies are much more productive uses of your time than scrolling through over 11,000 Tumblr posts, and would look better as sources in your dissertation.

Finally, if you are committed to doing a dissertation on factitious disorder, I would highly advise learning how to spell factitious. Because it's not "facetious" disorders, and spelling it that way might look a bit awkward on your dissertation about factitious disorder.

[eternalmoonlight18]

Please Please Please (Don't Prove 'Em Right) Chapter 6

Trafaglar Law x afab Female!Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter warnings: slight mentions of doing the nasty. MDNI!

Summary:

You are the Heart Pirates' beloved cook and sniper. However, you were also an insufferable troublemaker who always seemed to get on Law's nerves. He swears he's going to get rid of you one day, but as much as he hates it, why does he find you fascinating? Was it because you reminded him of someone he was greatly fond of?

As your relationship with Law grows, he only hopes you don't fucking embarrass him. After all, he has an image to uphold as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.

This story starts off as short stories between (Y/N), Law and the Heart Pirates, then picks up into the One Piece canon timeline, starting from Punk Hazard. This is a slow-burn Law x Female Reader story!

Updates every Monday!

Cross-posted in Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57651295/chapters/146705491

Chapter 6: Chicken Feet

Chapter summary: You and Law leave the crew behind to journey to Punk Hazard. You meet Monet, but seeing Law and Monet together makes you uneasy. Chaos ensues when your jealousy reaches to new heights each time you catch them together.

A/N: HELLO! Thank you so much for your patience friends! Writer's block is gone and it's time to get rolling! This story is canon-compliant, but it's not going to follow the actual story 100%. This isn't proofread so yeah sorry lol

Also CW/TW: slight mentions of the nasty if you squint, use your imagination folks.

I also created a taglist. Let me know if you want to be a part of it!

wc: 4k

You were instantly hit with regret when you and Law stepped foot at Punk Hazard. It was a month since you and the captain dropped off the crew at Zou to assist him in his mission to stop Doflamingo, but you desperately wanted to turn around and return for them. But it was too late, and Law seemed amused with the sight of you shivering in the vast cold land of the half of Punk Hazard. 

"Wow, it's not that cold here," Law said sarcastically as he walked towards a large door by a mountainside. While keeping his head forward, you saw him look at you with a smirk on his lips. Annoyed by your captain's sarcastic remark, you stooped to the ground to grab a handful of snow and chucked it at the back of Law's black coat. The man chuckled, clearly unbothered by your tantrum.

"Shut up! If you told me that we would travel to the fucking Arctic, I would've dressed better!" you comically spat at him. 

"I told you (Y/n)-ya, you should've worn that boiler suit." the man tutted back at you.

There was no arguing that. You fought tooth and nail against your captain on wearing anything else but those damned boiler suits, and now you're paying the price for it. So you opted for a cute black fur coat that went down to your knees and black leggings, but it was not enough to keep you warm in the insane cold environment of Punk Hazard 

"I'd rather die than wear those ugly boiler suits! We're not with the crew anyway!" you argued back.

You and Law now stood in front of a giant steel door. With his slender finger, Law knocked on the door. A few seconds passed before the door scrapped open, revealing a pale white man with spiked black hair. He stood very tall, but he didn't have any legs as it was replaced with gas. His yellow eyes bore into you and Law before his lips turned into a sinister smile.

"Well well well! What do we have here? Shuorororo!" the man creepily giggled. "A warlord at my doorstep? I'm honoured!" Then he took a look at you who was behind Law, and his eery smile widened even more. "And you brought along a sweet treat!"

"Caesar Clown. I came here for some business with you." Law said with a calm demeanour. Although he spoke professionally, there was a slight tone of aggressiveness. "I've heard about your production in SMILE fruits and SAD and I'm greatly intrigued. So, I'm offering that we can be business partners, to help you with production and distribution."

"And why should I engage in a partnership with you?" Caesar questioned.

The tattooed doctor hummed before he gave his answer. "You can use my Warlord status as protection."

The pale man smirked, "I already work for a Warlord. I won't disclose his name, but the JOKER already compensates me well."

"What about extra protection from another Warlord?" you piped up behind your captain.

The two men looked at you. Law stared at you with amusement while Caesar held a bewildered expression.

"That doesn't seem to be a bad idea. Good thinking (Y/n)-ya." your captain said with praise. He then turned his head back at the gaslike man. "The JOKER may be a good employer, but he will backstab you Caesar-ya. But with me, I can be that backup plan just in case things go wrong with your little business, hm?"

"Little?! For your information, my work is greatly sought after! I am the second-best scientist in the world and my work and weaponry directly supply an Emperor of the Seas!" Caesar scoffed.

You stepped up and took your place beside Law. "More of a reason to partner with my captain! If all goes to shit with the production of SAD, who do you think is first to blame?" you piqued up.

That seemed to get the mad scientist thinking. "Well well. You're not just a pretty face after all. Shurorororo!" 

Even though you cringed at the compliment, you couldn't help but swell with pride, seeing that Law gave you a tiny smile of appreciation your way. 

"The two of you come inside! I'm warming up to this idea of being business partners with another Warlord..."Caesar started to ramble as he ushered the two of you inside the facility.

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

You really wanted to go back to the Polar Tang now.

The facility wasn't bad at all. Everything was provided: space, a place to rest, and food. But you felt that something suspicious was going on and you couldn't figure out what it was. Law refused to tell you why he wanted to stay on Punk Hazard, but you understood it was all to avoid compromising the mission. He even exchanged his heart with Monet, another person staying in Punk Hazard, so that no one could betray one another.

Speaking of Monet, you hated the woman. Something about here didn't sit right with you, but you couldn't figure out why.

As you walked the laboratory corridors, you spotted that a research room had its door slightly cracked open. Curiosity got to you, prompting you to peek inside. Standing at the door, you touched your chest and muttered 'Calm'. With the newfound Devil Fruit powers you gained a month ago, you could take away sound from yourself and your environment. And it proved very useful now that you were peeking in this room.

There, Monet was sitting on a chair, writing notes on a desk. To her left, was Law, sitting on a couch to her right and Caesar was standing in front of him. They were engaged in a conversation, and you couldn't help but listen in.

"So, you're Trafalgar Law. Also known as the Surgeon of Death. You hail from the North Blue. You ate the Op-Op Fruit." she spoke as she was writing away.

Law glanced at her as she continued to speak. "You also brought your subordinate, (Y/n). A formidable sniper and a cook at the Heart Pirates. She hails from the East Blue. You said she ate a Devil Fruit recently but no information about its type."

Monet turned from her chair to face the two men to her right. "There are former prisoners that are on this island who were affected by a poison gas. Can you heal them?" she asked. 

Your captain continued to stare at her. Meanwhile, Caesar continued the conversion. "I'll let you and your subordinate stay here, so long as you assist me and don't tell anyone else about this lab. Are we clear Trafalgar?" 

"So be it. Also, you are not to tell anyone that (Y/n)-ya and I are here. That includes Joker alright?" Law said firmly.

A light giggle passed Monet's lips. "Caesar, I say that it's fine that he stays here. Besides, he's cute," she said as she threw a wink in Law's direction, much to his dismay. 

An unpleasant shiver went down your spine as your chest started to tighten. 

Now you really didn't like her. That was strike one. 

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

 A week slowly went by as you and Law stayed at the Laboratory. You found out that there were children and giant children, who were staying at the lab because Caesar said he was finding a cure for them. Of course, you didn't believe him, and you took it upon yourself to find out that the kids were actually guinea pigs for Caesar and his messed up experiments. But with your given circumstance, you knew that Law had a plan to take down Caesar and the SAD factory, so it was a matter of being patient with him. So the most you could do right now was feed the kids and keep them safe. 

Tonight, you made the kids spaghetti and meatballs, and when you presented it to them in the Biscuit Room, which was where they were staying, they all cheered joyfully.

A small smile graced your lips as you watched the kids eat the dinner they made you.

"This is amazing (Y/n)!" a giant girl named Mocha exclaimed. She wolfed down her portions and reached out her bowl to you. "Seconds please!"

"Good thing I made two buckets full of spaghetti, you kids got big appetites!" you giggled as you gave the girl another portion. 

"I'm so glad you came here! The food you make is awesome!" A blond boy named Sind cheered.

The rest of the kids shouted with joy as they continued to eat. As you were serving the kids their second portions, you didn't realize that Law walked into the room and made his way beside you.

"Oh, hello Mr. Snow Leopard!" A giant kid named Konbu called out.

You turned your head to see your captain with a sour face. He was not fond of the nickname the kids had given him.

"Hey, Captain Snow Leopard. Fancy you seeing here." you teased.

"Don't be copying these brats too (Y/n)-ya, address me properly." he scowled. 

A cackle left your lips while you prepared a plate for him. "Oh, don't be mean. You know these kids are going through a hard time by being here, and we're the only ones decent enough to take care of them."

"You're forgetting that Monet takes care of them as well," he answered back as he reached out to take the plate of spaghetti from your hands.

The smile on your face fell as Monet's name was mentioned. Your grip on the plate tightened as Law tried to take it.

"I see that you're getting comfortable with Monet, are you captain?" you said in a high-pitched voice, laced with discontent. A smile appeared on your face again, but it was clear that you were irritated.

"I would like a plate of spaghetti please." your captain said as he tried to pull the plate away from your iron grip. 

"Hm, I don't feel like giving it to you now." you singsonged. You pulled the plate away from his tattooed hand and gave it to Mocha instead.

"Are you mad at me?" Law gritted, clearly irritated by your actions.

"I don't know Cap, did you do something to piss me off?" you shot back at him.

The doctor grabbed the collar of your black jacket and brought your face close to his. "Don't start this again (Y/n)-ya. If you have an issue then spit it out." he lowly said. 

You raised your right hand which was holding a pair of tongs, and smacked Law's head with it. The tattooed captain let go of his grip on you and proceeded to clutch his head as he stumbled back in surprise.

"You're a smart man, figure it out yourself!" you shouted at him. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Law shouted back.

The two of you grabbed each other's collars and started to hurl more insults at each other.

The children watched the quarrel between you and Law with amusement. They started to whisper amongst themselves.

"They're funny!"

"They remind me of my mom and dad. Now I miss them..."

"Wow, I've never seen (Y/n) this mad before, it's funny!"

You and the tattooed captain were butting heads until Monet made her way into the Biscuit Room.

"Time for your candy!" she called out. The kids dropped their plates and proceeded to run toward the green haired woman. 

Pulling away from your captain's collar, you started to clean up the plates and utensils littered on the floor. "There's your woman," you muttered while cleaning up.

"Hm?" Law said, "What did you say?"

"Hi, Monet! Did you want some spaghetti? I made some for dinner!" you called out while ignoring Law.

Monet made her way to you. "Oh, I would love some!" Then she looked at Law and smiled. "If you haven't eaten yet, would you like to join me for dinner Trafalgar?" 

Law 'tched' in response. In the corner of Monet's eye, she saw your face deepen into a scowl. The sight of you being mad made her smile

That fucking woman was pushing you buttons and she was enjoying it. The handle of the pot started to crack as your hand gripped as tight as ever in anger. However, you managed to shove down your emotions and flashed a fake smile towards her and Law. The doctor raised his eye in skepticism as he saw you set down the pot and prepare two plates of spaghetti.

"Oh, how nice would that be? Here you go! You two enjoy dinner!" you said with fake cheerfulness. Shoving the plates into their hands, you quickly scrambled to set the plates and pots into the rolling cart and sped out of the Biscuit Room. 

"Thank you (Y/n)! Your cooking is always delicious!" Monet thanked you.

The tattooed captain just stared at your back as you were leaving the room. He knew something was up with you. Sighing in exhaustion, he brushed your behaviour aside as he started to think about the mission he was currently in. 

Unbeknownst to Monet and Law, you were unbelievably angry and veins started to pop on your forehead as you made your way back into the kitchen. Heavy stomps echoed throughout the hallway as you angrily pushed the food trolley. With your hands tightly gripping onto the trolley bar, you took a deep breath and sighed. 

That was strike two. One more strike and you were going to beat both of their asses to the snowy grounds of Punk Hazard. 

------------- 

You heard that Law agreed to give Caesar's henchmen limbs. It was one of the conditions that Caesar implemented for you and the captain to stay at Punk Hazard, aside from exchanging the literal hearts of Law and Monet to prevent backstabbing.

So when you were walking across the halls of the laboratory and heard the deathly screams of grown men echo throughout, you weren't surprised. 

"Looks like the captain is performing surgery today." you giggled as you skipped along the hallway. Deciding that you wanted to see the disembodiment in action, you quickly followed the sounds of agony. But as you were nearing the door, the screaming suddenly halted. As you slowed down your pace, you quietly made your way to the door and heard light shuffling and Monet's voice, You leaned up against the door with your right ear to listen.

"Alright, I'm ready Trafalgar," Monet said. "Are you sure this won't hurt?"

More shuffling was heard until Law spoke up. "First time? Don't worry, I'll stick it in slowly."

Your entire body froze as your mouth dropped in horror. "What the hell are they doing in there?!" you hissed to yourself. 

You heard a light grunt and a sharp inhale. More shuffling.

"Oh my, that's kind of big now that I look at it," Monet commented. "It feels weird too."

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it," You heard Law reply. "Now, hold still, I'm going to shove it in."

Oh that was it. That was strike three. And you know what they say. Three strikes and you’re out. And by out you meant that you were going to kill your captain and that green-haired witch.

Your mind short-circuited as you assumed that your captain and that damned woman were up to no good. With your mind and heartbeat going 100 miles per hour, you grabbed the handle and swung the door wide open, screaming; "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN THERE?!"

And as soon as you laid your eyes upon Law and Monet, your heart stopped and your feet were stuck in place.

There they were, with Law's back facing you and the green-haired woman lying on her back on the couch. The doctor's left tattooed hand was holding onto her right leg which was up in the air. Your captain's face was turned to you with his face widening in horror, and Monet tilted her head to the left to look at you. 

What set you off was when Monet glanced at you, her long green hair was dishevelled.

Steam started to blow through your ears as you glared hole into Law and Monet. Your entire body started to shake uncontrollably as your chest heaved up and down aggressively.

Realizing that he was caught in a position that already caused a great misunderstanding, Law quickly let go of the leg he was holding onto and scrambled to make your way towards you. What you failed to see was that Monet's left leg was now replaced with a giant talon.

"(Y/n)-ya, you can't just barge into here while-" he started but you cut him off.

"CAPTAIN TRAFALGAR LAW! WHAT IN NEPTUNES GREAT BEARD ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT BITCH?!" you bellowed. 

Unable to think straight, you stomped past your captain headed towards the large bird talon on the desk in front of the couch. As you picked it up with your right hand, you whipped your head to glare at the insufferable woman lying on the couch.

"You've got some nerve seducing my captain like that!" you shrieked as you swung the limb towards Monet. She promptly dodged your attack and screamed, running away from the couch and onto the other side of the room.

"(Y/n)! It's not what you think! He just-" she started to explain before you swung at her again.

"I don't want to fucking hear it!" you screeched as you chased the poor limping woman around the room.

"Shambles!" Law grunted. And as soon as he said it, you swung the talon once more towards Monet, only to knock down a bookshelf onto the floor.

You whipped your head to face the captain once more. Law shuddered as he saw your eyes glimmer with hate. It was screaming bloody murder, and he was on the receiving end of it.

"YOU! Oh, you've got some nerve! You men disgust me!" you screeched as you stomped towards the doctor. With your left foot planted in front, your right arm swung up, reading to assault the man with the bird limb.

"(Y/n)-ya wait! Whatever you're thinking, we didn't do it!" he yelped as he jumped to the side to avoid your attack. However, he didn't know that you were quick enough to see through his actions and the back of the talon hit him on the side of his head, which successfully smacked him to the ground.

Your left hand reached out to the pistol that was hoisted on your hip. You drew it out and pointed it to the man on the floor, "Falling for a woman like that? How despicable! I-!" you started to lecture, but your voice drowned out as you realized that your outburst of anger took all the energy out of you.

"I-" you started to speak but your voice failed you. As your hand fell back to your side, you started to wonder why you acted like that. Even if they had something between them, it wasn't your place to care, unless you were...

"...Jealous? Are you jealous (Y/n)-ya?" Law called out as you returned to your senses. The discomfort that once reflected in his eyes was replaced with amusement as his mouth raised in a smirk.

Your eyes widened at the revelation as your heart started to pound. A bright red flush appeared on your cheeks.

"There's no way," you muttered. The limb that once was on your hand dropped to the ground as you stumbled back in shock. Glancing at Law, who now stood up with his arms crossed, you shot a nasty glare as the smirk on his face widened even more. 

"Why would I be jealous?! I was just protecting your dignity!" you sputtered. The captain made a stride towards you as he chuckled.

"What a stupid reason. You expect me to believe that?" he teased. 

He was now looming in front of you as you backed up to a wall. Your head was bowed down in embarrassment as you refused to look into his steel grey eyes. 

"I wasn't jealous..." you lowly muttered.

"Somehow that's not believable," Law answered back. He dipped his head to your eye level so that he could make eye contact with you, but you whipped your head to the side, still refusing to meet his eyes.

Amused by your sudden 180-degree change in mood, your captain stood straight up, placed his hand on the back of your head, and kissed your forehead.

The once freezing temperature of the laboratory now skyrocketed into a burning hot sensation as Law made an out-of-character advance toward you. Whipping your head up to face Law, your face was now burning hot with more embarrassment.

"Captain! What was that for?" you yelped in surprise.

Law simply chuckled. "Sometimes, I wonder what goes on on that interesting head of yours. One minute you're beating me with a bird limb and then the next I find out it's because you're jealous."

You shoved away the man in front of you and pouted. "I am NOT jealous! I just had to straighten you up and remind you that we're on a mission here!"

"Oh please, if anything, you were the one who forgot that we had a mission (Y/n)-ya." he retorted. 

"Whatever, now help me clean up this mess," you sneered as you proceeded to pick up the fallen books that you knocked down from your rampage. The tattooed captain chuckled and proceeded to assist you in a comfortable silence for a while before he spoke up again.

"(Y/n)-ya?" he said as he hoisted up the fallen bookshelf.

"Yeah what is it cap," you said with disinterest as you continued to collect the fallen items. 

"You know you'll always have me right?" he announced.

Your heart picked up slightly at the confession. Then A smile graced your lips as you turned your head to face Law. "Shut up and put that bookshelf up, Cap," you finally said as you tried to dismiss your feelings. 

The captain sighed as he shook his head. A rumble of laughter started to escape his chest, and you followed suit. Amidst the chaos that happened in one of the laboratory rooms, you and Law couldn't help but share one of the many moments you had with one another, even though the two of you were far away from home.

----------

Bonus Scene:

In the Polar Tang, the Heart Pirates were nowhere to be seen. That was because all of them were inside the captain's quarters, staring at a small book at the captain's desk. The cover of the book read 'Journal'.

"So, should we open it?" Penguin asked, with his hand hovering over the notebook. 

"Yeah man, let's do it!" Shachi affirmed.

"Guys, what if the captain finds out?" Bepo chittered.

"You idiot, there's no way he'd find out if he's not here!" Ikkaku chided the Mink.

"Sorry..." Bepo muttered.

 Penguin picked up the book and slowly opened it. "Alright you guys, here we go..."

Everyone leaned in and peered over Penguin's shoulders as the notebook opened. As soon as the first page was opened, a bunch of folded envelopes fell out and scattered on the ground. The entire crew crouched down and picked them up.

"It's addressed to (Y/n)," Hakugan announced.

"This one too." Jean Bart said.

"This one as well!" Uni called out.

"Wait a minute, are these all love letters for (Y/n)? And he never gave them to her?" Shachi said bewilderedly.

"Guys, captain's journal is just filled with yearning for (Y/n)!" Penguin cackled as he skimmed through Law's journal.

The whole crew burst into laughter as they crowded around Penguin once more to read what the captain had to say about you.

----------

TAGLIST:

@hopelesslover06 @shakysif @eyes-ofhell @letmereadchristonabike @bi-narystars @valval08 @urbisexualfriend @emmaiscool22 @deathsmajestysworld @sp1ng @kitsunechan707 @orange-milky

[kimarii-00]

Meant To Be (1)

Summary: Armando is captured by a gang in Colombia where he is sure he will meet his end. He isn’t sure what he’s done to upset these people in particular, but at this point, who hasn’t he upset? He waits for his inevitable demise to greet him, but he’s confused when all that comes to him are the four bland walls in the cell that he’s kept in. He’s even more confused when their leader comes to him, giving him an… apology?

Requested by: @joykai ! (sorry it took so long to write 😭)

Word count: 2.7k

Part 1/3 (?)

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AN: Hello… LMFAO, I have no idea why this took me so long to get out. At first I just had writers block, then I got a job, school started again, my laptop broke lol, and so much more… And also I was stuck on this for soo long trying to make connections between bad boys 3 and 4, and eventually I just ended up changing the request a little bit to fit the story better, I hope that’s okay!

Instead of the story starting off with bad boys 3, I just made it start off at the end of Bad Boys 4 to better fit the storyline I was going for.

This will probably be part 1 of 3 parts, but there could possibly be more parts depending on how much I want to expand this. The goal and the minimum is 3 though.

I also didn’t edit this very thoroughly so please let me know if there is anything I should change..

ALSO THANK YOU TO @yeahnohoneybye FOR HELPING ME WITH THE SPANISH TRANSLATIONS!! Such a big help tysm! It was a while ago but they helped me with the whole spanish section!

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When Armando was breaking his neck to do his mothers’ bidding, he knew that he had fucked with a lot of the wrong people. Gangs, police officers, and just downright dangerous people, and he knew for damn sure it would come back to bite him in the ass later down the line. Though that thought that used to be at the forefront of his mind slowly retreated to the backburner when he was relatively able to avoid confrontation with the people he may have pissed off in his past. Yes, he was technically on the run… But who really cares about technicalities?

The rescue mission that he was involved in to retrieve his fathers wife and the kid of the police captain he just so happened to have killed took a lot out of him. He knew that he was lucky to have made it out alive. Thanks to his father, he was able to escape on a boat and leave before authorities could get to him since he did illegally escape from prison, even if it was because he was being pursued and had people gunning for him.

He spent a lot of time thinking while he was in the water. He was a free man with the power to go damn near anywhere he wanted… Where would he go now? He didn’t exactly have a solid plan; afterall, he wasn’t expecting to be let off the hook like this. Eventually, he arrived at a place he knew he had connections in. He docked his boat and made his way to the larger house-boat that he knew contained an old ‘friend’ of his. The place was isolated and secured, for good reason. Both he and this ‘friend’ had been involved in some dangerous shit in the past.

He knocked on the door and it took a while for anyone to answer, but he knew someone was home. In time, he heard a multitude of locks being unlocked, and the door opened. “Armando?” The man said, “¿Qué haces aquí hombre?” (What are you doing here man?) The language hit like whiplash.

Armando had spent so much time with his father and other English speaking people, it’d been a while since he’d heard it.

“Necesito un favor.”(I need a favor) Armando said, quickly and to the point.

“Que? Espera, ¿no se supone que deberías estar en la cárcel?” (What? Wait, aren’t you supposed to be in jail?) The man questioned.

Armando sighed but nodded, “Sí, pero ya no. Sucedió alguna mierda; ¿Me ayudas? Necesito algunas cosas.” (Yeah but not anymore. Some shit happened; could you just hook me up? I need some stuff) He said.

The man nodded and stepped aside so Armando could come in. The place looked as dirty and unorganized as it's always been, but it had a homey feeling that came with it.

“Disculpa el desorden,” (Sorry for the mess) He laughed, “Algun dia me animare a limpiarlo, te lo juro.” (Someday I’ll motivate myself to clean it, I swear.)

Armando rolled his eyes playfully, knowing damn well this place would never be clean, “Sí, como tu digas” (Yeah, whatever you say).

Armando explained his situation to him, “Técnicamente estoy huyendo, pero ahora necesito una casa. En algún lugar remoto.” (I'm technically on the run, but right now I need a house. Somewhere remote.) “No importa dónde esté.” (Don’t care where it is)

“Mmmm, ¿una casa? Sí, seguramente tengo algo, pero no es tan remoto como te gustaría que fuera.” (Mmmm, a house? Yeah, I probably got something, but it’s not as remote as you’d like it to be.) He said with a smile, rubbing the back of his head, “Ya sabes lo que dicen: Esconderse a plena vista, ¿cierto?” (You know what they say, hiding in plain sight, right?)

Four months. Four months Armando had been living in Columbia. At first, it was hard to get used to. He lived in a small house in an even smaller neighborhood. It took him a while to wrap his mind around the fact that he was just a normal person now. He kept in contact with his father who’d informed him that he was keeping authorities off of his back, the concept of being on the run now foreign to him.

When he’d first moved in, he was wary of everyone and everything, thinking that just one slip up could cost him his new, peaceful life. After the first month went by without any incidents, he began to accept that he was now just a regular guy.

Everything was going great for him. Almost too great.

Armando had an odd feeling today. He didn’t know what it was, but it felt like there was a pit in his stomach ever since he left his house to go to the one convenience store he came to favor. He found himself looking behind his back on more than one occasion, but he chalked it up to him being paranoid. It would happen every so often, why would this time be any different?

“...Efectivo o tarjeta?” (Cash or card?) The woman at the counter said impatiently, and he realized he was zoned out. He gave the woman what he owed in cash, took his bags and left, but he just couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he continued to harbor.

He walked back to his home, hyper aware of the amount of times he thought he’d heard footsteps following behind him, only to turn around and see nothing that could’ve caused the sound, the rustling of bushes that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand cautiously, the chills that he swore came over him every other minute. But everytime he would investigate these strange occurrences, there would be nothing that could possibly endanger him. Why was he so paranoid today in particular?

Looking back, he definitely had a good reason to be.

He was able to return home safely, but was confused when the pit in his stomach made no effort to remove itself. In fact, he felt it only deepened the further he went in the home.

He figured it was time to get some sleep. Maybe some shut eye would help the queasiness.

He’d made it to the door to his room before he realized that something was wrong, and that the stubborn feeling he was fostering for the past thirty minutes was not just a feeling. The door to his room was slightly cracked open.

He knew for a fact that it was not like that before he left.

Just as he came to this realization, he felt a presence behind him. But he didn’t get a chance to get a look at whatever, or rather, whoever was behind him before he felt a muscular arm wrap itself around his throat and squeeze, leaving him with little air, and hardly any room to fight. He clawed at the arm, and tried to use his own strength to tear the arm away from him and create a chance to escape, loosen the grip just a little, anything.

Before long, he felt black spots dancing around the edges of his vision, and for the first time in a long ass time, he felt helpless.

He was still fighting though, and this seemed to aggravate whoever was holding him, “Just sleep dammit!” A gravelly voice said, his grip somehow tightening even more than before.

“Allow me,” A honeyed voice said. Armando faintly heard the sound of heels clicking on the hardwood floor before a dark-skinned woman came into view. She had a deceiving smile on her face as she looked over him once, and her gaze settled onto the man who was still holding onto him, “Loosen up a bit, would you?”

A loud and dramatic sigh was heard and air began to miraculously flow back into his lungs, and he figured that this was his chance to escape.

He couldn’t even make a move before he felt a prick in the side of his neck, and liquid flowed into him. It made him feel tired easily, and he felt his bones beginning to relax. His eyes lidded, mouth numb, unable to say anything.

The woman in front of him, still smiling sweetly, pulled the needle from his neck. He felt himself slipping farther and farther away from consciousness. Before he could fully fade away, however, he was able to hear his two attackers' conversation as the man let him fall limp on the ground.

“(Name)’ll be happy, this dude owes her a fuck-ton…” The man muttered.

“You know she doesn’t like it when you call her by her name–”

“She’ll let me call her whatever I want when we get this asshole to her.”

“You’re insufferable, y’know that?”

“That’s not what you were saying last night–”

“Just grab him and let's go! God…”

The man chuckled at her reaction, clearly finding it amusing to see her flustered. Armando couldn’t keep himself awake for any longer, and promptly lost consciousness as the man leaned down to pick him up and throw him over his shoulder (rather roughly may he add).

His vision filled with black and his hearing faded to the serene sound of nothingness.

He was awoken by water as cold as what he imagined to be what the water in Antarctica would be like. It splashed onto his face and dripped down into his now damp clothes.

He frantically looked around the room, senses heightened in the unfamiliar place. All he found was the metal chair he himself was sitting in, and an old, dingy light hanging over him that flickered every now and then. He found his limbs to be bound by a tight rope that he could tell were not budging any time soon. HIs lips tightened as he realized his situation. Damn it.

“You’re finally awake, I was starting to think the little miss over there killed ya,” He gestured over to the dark-skinned woman who he hadn’t noticed lurking in the corner of the room. She shrugged and her lips curled into an innocent smile.

“I told you he’d be fine.” She said, nonchalantly. Armando didn’t say a word, contemplating in his mind different ways he could handle the situation. He couldn’t spot any windows or doors other than the one that was in front of him, but he knew there was no chance of getting out through there.

“What? Cat got your tongue? Pissed that you got caught? You know, it took an awfully long time to track you down.” The man said, sliding over his own chair and sitting on it backwards, letting his arms hang over the wooden back of it.

“The boss doesn’t want you dead just yet, to my surprise. If you play your cards right you might even get to live to see another day.”

“Unfortunately.” The muscle man sighed out dramatically. Armando still found himself staying quiet. He knew that, given his past working with his mother, the list of dangerous people he’d pissed off at some point might as well have been a book. These people in particular didn’t immediately ring any bells, but they did mention this ‘boss’ of theirs, so perhaps they’re the one he tipped off.

“You know what you’re here for so what’s the point in biting your tongue? Just fess up and pay up.” The woman said, pushing herself off of the wall and making her way to him. He held eye contact until she reached him and bent down so her eyes were on the same level as his were, “Is your pride really worth your life?”

Silence filled the room, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the burly man begin to stand, looking aggravated at his continuous silence. The woman held her hand up nonchalantly, gesturing to the man to sit back down and let her handle it.

He saw the reluctance but he eventually sat back down, but Armando could tell he was getting agitated. The woman focused her attention back on him. She took her pointer finger and gently placed it underneath his chin, lifting it slightly. She had her usual smile, but her eyes gave away her irritation. “Listen, you understand you can walk out of here if you just give us what we’re owed, correct? Our boss is being awfully generous. Don’t tell me you’re just going to throw away that generosity…”

He let her finish her sentence but he wasn’t hearing any of it. Whatever he owed these people wasn’t his problem anymore, and therefore, he decided to make sure that point was well received by his two kidnappers. He spat a glob of spit right between her eyebrows.

He’d never seen someone look so offended. The fake smile dropped instantly and was replaced by the meanest stank-face he’d ever experienced. Her partner damn near broke his wooden chair as he shot up from it, the chair clattering on the ground.

“I told (Name) this asshole wouldn’t cooperate,” The man yelled. Just as he was about to stomp his way over to a helpless Armando, his phone buzzed.

The man stopped in his tracks. When he took his phone out of his pocket, his eyes widened.

“Jax.” The man said simply into the phone. Was his name Jax, or was he speaking to a Jax?

Armando felt the burning gaze of the woman he spat at, but he favored listening to Jax’s (?) conversation rather than another staring contest with the woman he’d pissed off earlier.

“Right now? But… Y-yes… Yes ma’am… I understand… We’ll be there in five.” The man said, scratching the side of his head. After a few seconds, he stuffed the phone back into his pocket and turned back around to face Armando. “Looks like you get to live a bit longer. We’ve gotta bounce.” The last sentence was directed to his partner, who hadn’t said a word in the last five minutes.

She made sure to shoot one last disgusted look at him before following behind her partner and slamming the door behind her. He distinctly heard the lock for the door be secured into place before hearing them walk away. He let out a breath.

The darkness and silence were somewhat intimidating.

He didn’t know how long he’d been left alone. If he had to guess, the minimum amount of time would’ve been at least an hour or so.

As much as he wanted to make the most of it, there wasn’t much he could do. Of course, he could realistically break the wooden chair he was sitting in by slamming it into the ground, and enough force it would definitely crack. But what was he supposed to do afterward? The door was sealed tight, he still had his restraints on and he didn’t know how many people were guarding wherever he was being held at.

Damn.

He wasn’t left with his thoughts for too long though. The door in front of him creaked open much sooner than he thought it would.

He furrowed his eyebrows. A woman walked in slowly, closing the door behind her. It wasn’t the women from before though, and if he hadn’t been in the situation he was currently in, he’d have to admit that she was stunning.

He heard her take a deep breath before letting it out in a dramatic sigh. She walked over slowly, reaching for something in her pocket. Was she going to torture him for information? Shit…

Imagine his surprise when she pulled out a sleek switchblade, but instead of cutting him, she slipped behind him and swiftly cut the ropes binding his limbs together until he suddenly felt strength regaining in his wrists. He wiped his head around in confusion and caution. Is this a trap?

She looked like she was studying him before she let out another sigh, and muttered, “Damn idiots… The wrong fucking person…”

Wrong person?

The wrong damn person?

…

…

…

Low key not happy with the way this turned out since it took me damn near 2-3 moths to finally post it but I figured I should get something out there..

TAGLIST!

@dasaniswrlddd @thedarkworldofhananerea @taylormcguire282 @timebomb1101 @5arlan7 @desiiiisworld @babygurl030 @lovelyme22 @Leavemealing @lewispool @yeahnohoneybye @velocitynyoom @maybepersuasivetom @deadpool15 @believeinthefireflies95 @lxla04 @planetnique @arinotarianagrande @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @hotwomanlythings @themainacc

[megamindsecretlair]

The King and I, Part 5

Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT AND FLUFF. Fingering (fem receiving) and oral (male receiving), breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Doesn't follow canon of the movie.

Summary: Time has passed. Enough time for your heart and head to catch up to each other. You found room in your heart to accept the King's love and accept your new life. And there's no place else you'd rather be.

Word Count: 3,169k

A/N: The final part! Ahh! I debated if I should add some more drama in here, but I'm just not that great at angst. I just want some sweet fluff and lovin' LOL. Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading and supporting this idea. I love ya'll, more than words can ever say! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @gg-trini @eggnox @naj-ay444 @sheepywritesfics @westside-rot @twocentuar @pinkpantheris @tchallasbabymama @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @abeautifulmindexposed @neawarren @monaeesstuff @blackerthings @melaninpov @1-800anklebully @mogul93 @softimgyu @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @softscorpio17 @theunsweetenedtruth @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @badassdoll @kinginwithbreezy-blog @chrishy973 @skyesthebomb @blackelysian @yayasworldview @wakandamama @thadelightfulone @iv0rysoap @puppykitt

Six Months Later…

“Our husband has been away too long,” Sade said. She wobbled in the sun room, finding a seat next to the window where the sun hit the chair just right. She was further along than Ayi and you and she was not taking to it well.

Truth be told, neither were you. You were only four months, your belly starting to harden and your breasts getting more sensitive with every passing day. You were excited, hoping you’d give the King a son, but you’d be happy with a healthy baby either way.

Ayi was behind both of you, but she was used to this part. Her sons played near her feet with carved wooden blocks. “Probably has something to do with the Oyo, again,” she said.

“Filthy pigs,” you spat. You sat closest to Ayi and you looked down at her sons, wondering if your own children would favor the King too. How was it that women did all the work growing the little miracles and they turned out looking like their father anyway? Couldn’t women get a little more credit?

Watching Ayi with her children made your heart ache. You tried to stop thinking of your parents. That life was over forever. You would never see them again and you truly hoped that your father did not give you a little sister. You’d mourn for that child till the end of your days. 

“We should ambush him,” Sade said. 

“Tackle him in this state? You can barely make it to the door,” Ayi said and snickered. Sade playfully pouted and looked around for something to throw. Coming up empty, she sighed against the cushioned seat and kicked her legs out.

“I think he gave me an elephant and not a baby,” she said, love shining through her words as she stroked her belly. 

“Two elephants,” you said, rubbing your own belly. You couldn’t help it. You wanted to meet them already!

“The King grows an army, not children,” Ayi said, looking down at her sons. “They are too damn big!” 

You all erupted in riotous laughter, dissolving into fits and giggles as you pictured a giant army of the King’s children. The King himself was larger than life, why should his children be any different?

“We should ambush him, he’s been working too hard,” you said when you were all done laughing.

“How about a picnic? We used to have them often before the children and his duties increased,” Ayi said.

“Oh, I love that! I can ask the kitchen to make his favorites,” Sade said. 

“We can use the main garden too!” Ayi said. “I’ll find some blankets big enough for all of us.” 

“I’ll make sure he comes,” you said. You grinned thinking of just how you were going to keep him distracted long enough to not notice where you were taking him. Maybe a little teasing was in order.

After what he did last night, you were entitled to a little payback. 

“This afternoon?” Sade asked.

“Wouldn’t be an ambush if we scheduled it,” Ayi said with a smile. She climbed out of her chair with ease, heading to the door to summon some servants to take the children for their lessons.

“See you later, my evil sisters,” Ayi said and rubbed her hands together. Her ringing laughter could be heard all the way down the hall while she went in search of blankets. Sade was struggling to get out of her chair so you got up and helped pull her up. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get the kitchen started?” You asked.

She waved her hand. “It’s just a little pregnancy, I will be fine,” she said and giggled. You looped your hand around her elbow and helped steady her to the door.

She made a soft noise that made you look at her face. She had a small frown that worried you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“I’ll be a good mother, right? I see Ayi and she looks like she just has it all down so easily,” she said.

“You will be a great mother. Why would you ask that?” You asked. Over the last few months, you tried your hardest to approach Sade with an open mind. It wasn’t her fault that she was traded to another man like property. All in all, if she had to go to anyone, you were glad it was someone as fair as the King. It could have been much, much worse.

“My mother…my mother was a handful. Demanding, mean, and nothing ever satisfied her. I don’t want to be like her,” she said. She turned watery eyes to you and you pulled her into a hug. It was a little awkward considering the state of your bellies, but you managed to wrap her in your arms. 

You kissed her cheek and looked her in the eyes. “You will not be your mother. I will not be like mine either. We have each other. We’re sisters,” you said.

Words you never thought would come out of your mouth. When you were forced to deal with your feelings, staring at the crossroads between remaining selfish and reaching out a welcoming hand, you realized that it wasn’t her that you hated. You hated the notion that you’d have to compete for the King’s love like you had to compete for love at home.

That you were subjected to another life of trying to be perfect only to have it thrown back in your face, efforts wasted and unappreciated. You thought that more wives meant less time for you. And yes, you were selfish with that time. You craved it.

But there was no need. The King could not spend every waking moment with you, true. But you were free to stand on your own two feet for once in your life. There was no fighting here. There was no need to guard yourself or your heart every passing moment.

And you fell more and more in love with the King as you realized what a gift he gave you. You were the one who reached out to Sade to learn more about her and her kingdom. Her family. Her customs. You all enjoyed breakfast together and forged a deep sisterhood you had been craving since you came into this world.

You were not alone. 

Sade smiled and wobbled off down the hallway in search of the kitchens. If you knew your husband, by this time today, he was in the council meeting discussing the security of Dahomey. That was always the topic of the meetings. Blessfully, since you were all with child, you were spared from attending if you didn’t want to.

You set off in that direction, clashes of steel and spears reaching your ears from the training yards. You were spared from the heat of the sun, but the air was still thick with it. Your purple dress had to be let out to accommodate your growing belly and it swished across your ankles as you walked.

The closer you got to the council room, the louder your husband’s voice boomed from within. You approached carefully, looking around the corner. Your husband paced the room arguing with one of the council members about what to do with the Oyo prisoners. Your husband looked stressed, rubbing his neck and arguing back.

Definitely time for a break.

“Husband!” You called out. You rushed into the room, holding your stomach.

“My Queen,” King Ghezo said. He crossed the room in an instant and grabbed your hands, pulling you into his strong embrace.

“Something hurts, I-I don’t know what to do,” you said. You turned doe eyes toward him, poking out your bottom lip and let it quiver for maximum effect.

“I’ll call the doctor,” he said. 

“No! I just want you, please?” You pleaded with your eyes that it was him or no one else. He looked torn, looking back at the council meeting.

“Why don’t we break for the day,” one of the members said. The rest agreed and began to pack up. You could tell they were reluctant to do it but you didn’t care.

“What is it, my love?” The King asked. He placed his hand on your stomach and looked into your eyes with such concern, you almost felt guilty about your little fib.

“I’m sorry about your meeting,” you said.

He smiled. “We were going nowhere fast. Are you in pain?” He asked.

“Yes, so much pain! Maybe I need to lie down,” you said.

“Come then, we’ll make sure you rest,” he said. He held your hand and walked you out of the council room and down the hall towards your room. 

Now…to keep him occupied…many scenarios ran through your head. You had become quite the talker here using every opportunity to discuss things like literature and philosophy with the king. Such things you were not permitted to discuss before.

However, you were still greedy for your time with him. Besides jokes and the occasional overshare, you and the other wives had agreed to keep your personal time private. What you did with the King was between you two. And right now…

You pulled him into your room and locked the door behind you. He walked over to the bed but you stopped him. He gave you a funny look.

“Did you change your mind? Do you want a doctor?” He asked.

You grinned and shook your head. Since learning about this particular move, you employed it often. The King always said that you didn’t have to if you were unaccustomed to it. But it was a perfect way to let him know how much he meant to you. To even begin to repay all that he had done for you.

You pushed him backwards until his legs hit the bed. You tugged on his golden trousers, moving them down off his hips. You didn’t have too long until the others were ready, but this would be a great distraction. 

His hands stopped you. “Are you not in pain?” He asked.

“I have a pretty big ache. Only you can fill it, my love,” you said. You pecked his lips as you freed his dick. When the cool air reached him, he hissed. When you palmed him, he groaned. 

You stroked his dick, slowly, running your fingers across the length of him. His voice grew rougher. “My devious Queen,” he said with a strained chuckle.

“You’ve been working too hard, husband,” you said. You used your other hand to push his open robes off of him. The material fell to the floor revealing the expanse of his body. You licked your lips, wishing you had more time to fully explore him before your stomach got in the way.

“Have I neglected you? Forgive me?” He asked.

You pushed him onto the bed. He bounced lightly but then scooted to the edge and spread his legs. You knelt down and placed your hands on his thighs. His dick twitched mere inches from your face.

“There is nothing to forgive, husband,” you said. “I only wish you’d take care of yourself more.” 

You wrapped your lips around his dick and licked the tip of his dick. He sighed and leaned back on his arms to steady himself. You looked up at the pleasure on his face. Pleasure you were giving him. Your heart burned in your chest with pride and satisfaction that you could do this for him.

You reached your right hand down to fondle his balls. His hips jerked off of the bed. “I should not have taught you that,” he groaned.

You squeezed the heavier one, rolling it between your fingers. He continued to moan and praise you as you sucked him. Your slobber coated his dick and ran down the length of him. You took him all the way to the back of your throat before releasing him to catch your breath.

“You beautiful Queen,” he sighed. His hips continued to jerk. He wanted to grab your head and push you down further and faster. You could tell by the way he flexed his hand on the bed. Gathering your blanket in his fists.

You shifted on the floor to find a better angle and then you took him how you knew he liked. Your head bounced up and down faster, spit mixing with the saltiness of his precum, and sucked him down as much as you were able. He was so thick, he stretched your mouth.

Your pussy ached with an emptiness that always stole your breath. One minute, you could be fine and going about your day. Until you remembered the delicious burn of him sliding in and out of you. Holding you to him and whispering how much he loved you. Craved you. How he thought of your voice often. 

“I’m close,” he groaned. 

You sucked him harder. You gagged on his dick until he was screaming out his release. You swallowed his climax until he was completely empty and throbbing inside your mouth. You moaned around him and began to slowly withdraw him from your mouth.

He made the most adorable, tortured sounds as you licked the underside of his dick. He was still sensitive and his eyes were crossing.

“You tease,” he moaned and licked his lips. 

You finally let him go and wiped corners of your mouth. He helped you stand and then placed his hands on your hips and looked up at you. You played with his beard and fanned your thumbs across his cheeks.

“How do you always know exactly what I need? Hm?” He asked.

“Because I need it far more than you. I like seeing you like this. Relaxed,” you said. You stroked his forehead, smoothing away the worry lines there. He dealt with so much. It was expected of him, but you didn’t care what others said. He did not have to die in service to this kingdom. The kingdom needed him here, alive and safe while he protected them.

He made you sit in his lap. “I have another surprise for you, husband. We will be late,” you said.

“Do you expect me to steal my pleasure from you and not give any in return?”

“It is not stealing if I give it freely,” you said. You settled onto his lap. He pulled up your dress until he exposed your pussy. He pulled it a little higher revealing your rounded belly.

He kissed your stomach and his lips lingered a second too long. “You are a treasure,” he said.

He looked up at you. “You are everything to me,” he said. You grinned and kissed him. As you did so, his fingers explored your damp curls. 

The more his gorgeous lips met yours, the wetter you got. You were flooding his fingers by the time he pulled away from your lips. 

“You are so beautiful. More beautiful carrying my child,” he said. 

You moaned and nuzzled his nose. “As soon as you’ve had your rest, I will put more in there. I want you full of me all the time,” he said.

You giggled as he planted kisses along your jaw. “You can’t mean all of the time,” you said.

He slipped his finger deep inside you and made a come hither motion. You began to convulse on his fingers, body shaking uncontrollably. If it weren’t for his strong hand against your back holding you aloft, you would have fallen to the floor. 

“All of the time. You are radiant with child,” he said. “So full of me. Full of life we created together.”

You cried out in his ear as you finally climaxed, thighs trembling. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, holding him close to you. This. This was where you always wanted to be. In his arms, safe and sound.

He kissed your jaw and neck, planted kisses above your breasts as you calmed down from such a powerful climax. You reluctantly climbed off of him.

“Come or we will truly be late!” You giggled as he tried to pull you back into his lap.

“Are you sure I cannot entice you to stay?” He asked.

“Don’t be cruel, you know I cannot resist you,” you said. You fixed your dress and he hung his head with a smile. He stood up and retrieved his clothes.

It was painfully obvious what you two had been up to, but well. You couldn’t help it. Looking somewhat presentable, you held hands with him as you walked down the hallway towards the palace gardens.

“Is this it? Have you finally decided to end my life?” He asked.

“Would I really answer yes?” You asked. He lifted an eyebrow at you and you grinned evilly. You placed your head on his shoulder.

“Husband, you are safe from me today,” you said.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Where you are concerned, I am never safe,” he said. “You slay me where I stand with one look from you.”

You nudged him as you entered the gardens. Ayi and Sade were already there with Ayi’s sons. Three large blankets were spread out on the ground. Sade sat in the shade of the tree, leaning back on her hands.

“What is this?” King Ghezo asked as you approached.

“A picnic with your wives. You have been an absent husband,” Ayi said. She grinned at the two of you. 

“Will you forgive me?” He asked.

“Only if you sit and support Sade. She will roll on out of here if you don’t,” Ayi said.

The King chuckled and kissed your hand. He helped you sit. Then he sat down in the shade, pulling Sade to lean against him instead. She sighed with relief and you grinned at the look on her face.

You shared a knowing look with Ayi. She took in your rumpled dress and the King’s wrinkled robe. You snatched a grape off of a plate in front of you and shrugged your shoulders. She was perfectly aware of how addictive the King was. She was on her third child with him.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with laughter and jokes. The King playfully admonished all of you for conspiring against him and neglecting his duties as King. Sade tapped his shoulder and said he deserved it. 

“What good is being king if you cannot play whenever you want?” She asked.

And she was right. As the years passed, you kept up this tradition. Inviting more and more wives to picnic with you and King Ghezo. Babies were born many times over and still you reached out your hand to every single one of them.

All but perhaps one. His latest wife was a nightmare. Campaigning too hard to be Woman King. That was alright with the rest of you. The rest of you knew. Knew that deep down, all that mattered was that you had the King’s love and he had yours.

The Secret King Ghezo Files | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4