#i just want to be able to reference them and be like 'ya this one was mid bc of these reasons'

[meloyellow236]

The TWST boys write letters to Yuu/The Prefect!

All of them except for Ortho+Checka are meant to be interpreted as romantic, but many can be interpreted as platonic as well. The reader is gender-neutral, but more feminine adjectives will be used when referring to them. Rollo's part is fairly suggestive. Characters will probably be a bit OOC.

Minor spoilers for their respective books in each section, but I try to keep it as spoiler-free as I can, except for who overbloted. If anyone has any questions or comments, please leave an ask or comment :)

NRC:

Heartslabyul:  

Riddle Rosehearts - 

My dearest rose, 

You are the loveliest person I have ever known. It is a miracle that you chose to get to know me, and even more so after I hurt you and your friends so deeply. I have made many mistakes, but you, my rose, look past them. I understand that you may choose to go home one day, but even so... 

Please just give me a moment of your time, a fraction of your thoughts, and I’ll be satisfied. Any inch of you that I can get, I want, even if you still believe me a tyrant. If it pleased you- No, if it only made you look my way, I would gladly break any rule of the queen’s or my mother’s. Understand that, my rose, and I am sure you’ll know what remains unsaid in this letter. 

Yours Truly, 

Riddle Rosehearts 

Trey Clover - 

Prefect, 

Hello. I wanted to thank you, first and foremost, for helping out Heartslabyul so much. You’ve been a very good influence on Ace and Duece, and it’s nice to see Cater open up to someone. Not to mention, Riddle’s been improving every day. I can’t even describe how much you’ve helped me... I just hope you know that I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done. You’re welcome at Heartsabyul at any time. I have some donuts waiting for you if you want. 

From, 

Trey. 

Cater Diamond - 

Prefect, 

Heyyy! Whatcha doing right now? I’m sooooo happy that you came to NRC even if, like, all of the housewarden’s tried to ratio you. I do not subscribe to that, BTW. #NotCool, #Yikes-A-Tron. But,  like... On a more serious note, I am happy that I got to know you. It’s nice to have someone I can just be myself around. No drama, no expectations, just... Yeah. I know that you’re gonna leave at some point, and it’s almost a relief. You’re honest about it, which is something that many can’t say. 

Ugh, that was probs TMI! I’m not trying to trauma dump here, oops. There’s this cute cafe that opened up downtown, totally Magicam-worthy. You wanna meet up there sometime? 

- Cay-cay ♦️  

Ace Trapolla - 

Prefect!! 

I need your help! So, Trein’s got this super hard test coming up on Friday- Like, Riddle-got-a-99-last-year level of hard. Yeah, that’s without the extra credit, but STILL! That’s failure to the tyrant! So, you’ve got to come over to Heartslabyul right now and help me study. Pleaseeeee!!!! I’ll owe you one! 

Oh, and don’t bring Grim. Deuce’s also got plans, there’s no need to ask him. You know, in case that matters to you. 

See ya, 

Ace 

Deuce Spade - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, how are you doing? Can you believe that it’s already been so long since we became friends? When we broke that chandelier, I was ready to never talk to you again... But now look at us! I’m on my way to becoming an honor student, and you’re working on finding your way home! I’m happy that you’re going to be able to go soon, I know how good it feels not to be able to see your family (and probably friends in your case) after so long away, but also sad that you’ll be leaving us. 

I’ve got it! Let’s get your ghost camera, and we’ll take lots of photos of us all over campus! Two of each, so that way no matter what, both of us will always remember what we went through together. That sounds like a good idea, right? 

From, 

Duece 

Savanaclaw: 

Leona Kingscholar - 

Herbivore, 

Hey. You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re stupid and impulsive and don’t know when to quit or give up. That’s why you keep looking for me in the botanical gardens, right? You just don’t know when to stop. I’m sure that you’ll realize I’m not worth your effort soon enough. But until then, you have to come to see me more often. You’re my pillow, I don’t get good enough sleep if you’re not there. 

I’m in the usual place. Get over here as soon as possible. 

- Leona 

Ruggie Bucchi - 

Hiya, Prefect... 

I’ve been thinking, and you should let me come over to Ramshackle and fix the place up for you. No upfront cost, of course, but... I want the right to use the kitchen as I please, whenever I please. 

Why, you’re asking? Shishishi... Not telling. You’ve just got to trust me on this, I’ll make it worth your while. Then again, maybe I’ll just blow the kitchen up and you’ll have to live at Savanclaw again! That’d be fun, huh? 

If you don’t want me to, ya better give up your kitchen for a little while! I’ll get that microwave up and running again in no time.

- Ruggie 

Jack Howl - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, have you been feeling alright? I’ve noticed that Crowley isn’t the best provider of food. While on my morning runs, I’ve noticed Grim loudly talking about how he doesn’t have enough tuna. He does it pretty often. So, I’ve thought of a solution; You could try eating breakfast with me. I always get big portions, so you could have some. If you want, I could even try lifting you and carrying you places. I need to get better strength training anyway, and then you’ll have a buddy to get stronger with. It’s always better to have a friend with you. 

From, 

Jack 

Octavinelle: 

Azul Ashengrotto - 

My Pearl, 

Allow me to start this letter by saying that you are truly the crown jewel of my riches and that none can replace your beauty. You are the loveliest, most perfect little pearl, and I adore you with my whole heart. And yet, I cannot seem to convince myself that you feel the same. You say you do, and even if it is a crime to believe your lips hold lies, I cannot believe that to be true. If it was, why? Not just why you would tell me- A scheming man who has hurt you and your friends- that I hold the keys to your heart, but why you would choose what I hold underneath. I’m no good for you in terms of personality or how I look, and yet... You still hold me dear. And for that alone, I want to take you to the Coral Sea where my home lies, but not for a deal this time. Just... Because I want you and my mother in the same place. The two most important people to me meeting... That’s the best thing I can think of, to be honest. 

With Love, 

Azul Ashengrotto 

Jade Leech - 

Dearest Prefect, 

It has come to my attention that you haven’t had a chance to enjoy a proper mushroom dish since arriving in Twisted Wonderland. Now, that will not do for much longer. This letter should contain a box with three containers worth of mushroom dishes. You are to eat them and write back to me with what you thought of each of them. In return, I shall continue to provide you with free food. 

Do be warned, however, that they should all be eaten as fast as possible once you get them in case my brother chooses to throw them out. Also, so that way Grim cannot eat them. I would not recommend it for a cat.

Kind Regards, 

Jade Leech 

Floyd Leech - 

Shrimpy!!!!!! 

You and me. In the courtyard. Now. 

I’m going to squeeze you. 

🐬°˖𓍢✨໋ 🐋✧°.🐟⋆ 

🦐🥢🥢🥢🥢🧨 

I’ll see you later if you want me to or not. 

- Floyd <3333333 

Scarabia: 

Kalim Al-Asim - 

Hello!!!!

I love you!!! I love you, I love you, I love you! You’re the most wonderful person in this school, and you’ve done so much for both me and Jamil! It would be silly for me not to love you. I love how your hair looked in the wind when we went on that carpet ride, I love how you looked in the school’s uniform and how you looked when you tried on my dorms, and I love how you look no matter how you dress because you’re a beautiful person inside and out! I love you, and nothing can change that! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ 

Hugs and kisses, 

Kalim Al-Asim 

P.S. Let’s go on another magic carpet ride soon, okay? I want to show you how pretty the moon looks when it’s full and you’re flying!

Jamil Viper - 

Dear Prefect,

Thank you for saving me when I overblotted. I am aware that what I did was wrong, and I apologize. I hope you can understand where I’m coming from. Either way, I feel as though I must do something more for you to show you that. Please come to Scarabia tonight. I will make you a special dinner if you do. Please, don’t tell Kalim. I want... something special, for the two of us this time. 

See you later, 

Jamil Viper

Pomefiore: 

Vil Schoenheit - 

My Dearest Potato, 

I regret to inform you that you have bewitched me. So much so that I willingly took on a role as a villain in this next movie. The villain falls in love with the hero’s love interest, and then, in a “shocking” turn of events, she chooses the villain to stand by. Of course, they’re both defeated, the hero gets with his childhood friend in some lesson of how love will always be waiting for you, whatever. But I still chose it, even if Neige plays the hero. 

I finally have a love interest, and they remind me of you. You could have stood by his side, you know. You should have. I poisoned him; That action speaks for itself. And yet, you decided to stay with me. Just like how that villain in this story gets the girl the hero originally wanted. 

I’ve won your heart as well, haven’t I? 

Sincerely, 

Vil Schoenheit 

Rook Hunt - 

Trickster, 

Bonjour, mon amour! I could not resist sending you another letter. You see my darling, I long for you like I long for the sunset on a hot day, for an oasis in a desert, for a hint of rain during the dry season, for the sun during the days when it pours. I'd imagine you'd taste like the rain as well, Trickster, and if given the chance, I'd taste again and again, in an attempt to satiate more than just my curiosity. 

Oh, Trickster, have you any idea how you’ve bewitched me? Why, just the sight of you is enough to send me spiraling, wishing for the smallest fraction of a chance that my affections are shared. How cruel is fate, to deny me the right to live and die within your arms? La petite mort would be heaven if it was with you, but death would truly come for me if it wasn’t. 

Je t'aime de tout mon coeur, 

Le Chasseur D'Armour 

Epel Felmeir - 

Prefect, 

I need some help. I found out that milk can make ya grow stronger, and also help you get taller. However, Vil has banned me from drinking it because I drank a carton in two days. Something about it raising my cholesterol or making me break out, I don’t care. So, I need to keep it at Ramshackle. That’s okay with you, right? Well, I sure hope it is, cause it’s getting in there if ya want it to or not! I’ll see ya soon, just make sure it’s in the fridge. I’ll get ya some of my family’s apple juice in return, it’ll be good. I reckon ya liked it last time. 

Epel 

Ignihyde: 

Idia Shroud - 

Prefect, 

Get to my room, and fast. There’s an event taking place, and I need a player two. This one requires another person to be in the same room, so I can’t ask any of my mutuals, and you’re the only one I trust with this. I can’t ask Ortho either, don’t ask why. 

Also I recently got pink lights in my room like those normies. That’s why everything looks kind of pink, it’s not my hair. Just in case you were wondering if I was embarrassed or whatever, you’re wrong. Just get over here ASAP, no time to waste. 

- Gloomurai 

Ortho Shroud - 

Hello, how are you? ( ˵ •̀ ᴗ •́˵) I am very happy to get a chance to talk with you. I have recently learned how to type out these little faces called ‘kaomoji’ that my big brother loves. Here are some of my favorites: 

♡✧( •⌄• ) 

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 

•ω• 

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ - This one is a cat! 

I would like to share more with you. Please come to Ignihyde so I can teach you how to get them on your phone as well. I can provide free updates while you’re here if needed. (✿˶◕‿◕˶人◕ᴗ◕✿) 

Sent To: PerfectPrefect@email.com 

Date: XX/XX/XXXX 

Return Email: orthoshroud2@email.com 

Diasomnia: 

Malleus Dracona - 

My Dearest Child Of Man, 

If Longing was painful, how much farther would I have to fall to crash and burn at your feet? The only answer I can give is that I already would have. I would build monuments in your name and would offer you the world and more if only you would say you loved me back. 

Could this be considered love? Could these feelings I hold deep within my heart, only to divulge in the darkest hours of the night with none but the stars and you to bear witness to my passion, be a form of love? Or is this simply my yearning, a longing for your heart, and wanting to have someone to call my own? 

The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one I wanted next. How I wish I could scream your name from the rooftop, and raise my voice in song only to sing your praises. You have the face of an angel, and I am sure that you must have the mind of one as well, for even if the voices in your head remind you of nothing more than pain and suffering, they have still been able to mold you into the perfection you are today. But maybe you have devils as well, trying to smite you as you sleep, but just as I do all of your angels, I will pick them up and kiss their heads if they are a part of someone I care for so much. You are perfection, Child of Man, and this dragon wishes only to live with the crumbs of affection as my treasures. 

Yours Until The End Of Eternity, 

Prince Malleus Dracona Of Briar Valley Hornton 

Lilia Vanrouge - (Okay so for Lilia I could have SWORN that he calls the prefect ‘Beastie,’ but I can find that nowhere. Literally at all, no one seems to have used it for him, but I know that I’ve seen at least one person do it. I now think that it’s a headcanon thing but I’m not sure, if anyone knows who did this or if it’s canon, please tell me. I’ve been searching for far too long and I am in too deep.)

Beastie, 

Hello, my darling~! I have an easy-peasy little request for you, m’kay? You just need to travel over to Diasomnia, and then... I’ll make you a meal! Malleus has been out trying to find this one gargoyle on campus all day since I brought up wanting to learn a new recipe, and Sebek and Silver both ran off earlier to go help him. I don’t know how to tell them that the gargoyle they’re looking for definitely isn’t at Night Raven College. Raising kids is quite hard, especially when things like this come up... 

But you’ll be there for me, won’t you, Beastie? Pretty please? I’ll see you tonight if you want to, a little date if you feel up to it. Mwah! 

xoxo, 

Lilia 

Silver “Vanrouge” - 

Dear Prefect, 

I had the most wonderful dream. I think I did, at least. I can’t remember it, but I remember how familiar these eyes were, and I knew it was you as soon as I awoke. And I know it's true, that dreams are seldom what they seem... But if I know how you are, then I know what you'll do; You'll look at me the same way you did once upon inside my dreams. And tell me all about the animals that you found with me when I awoke. What I wouldn’t give to hear you tell me about every birdie that comes to me; I’d be willing to fall asleep in the forest every day if only to hear you cooing to the birds when I come to. I wonder if each little bird has someone to sing sweet things to, a little love melody like what I long to play for you one day. Well, either way, I’m growing sleepy now. The effects of my curse will soon be on me once more. I’ll see you either later today or tomorrow, depending on how long I’m asleep. If you need me or simply wish to keep me company, I’m currently resting in the woods. 

Best Wishes, 

Silver 

Sebek Zigvolt - 

HUMAN! 

I have something to show you; A new notebook to be filled, gifted to me by Master Lilia. He said that it is a ‘scrapbook’, which humans fill up with pictures and drawings of themselves and their friends. To fulfill the purpose of this illustrious gift, you must come to Diasomnia at once! You shall be the first of the first years to be added, along with Silver. Prepare enough of those photographs you have to fill half of the book. The other shall be dedicated to Wakasama! 

Sincerely, 

Sebek Zigvolt  

RSA+NBC: 

Che’nya - 

Prefect... 

When are you going to visit RSA, huh? It would be purrr-fect to get a chance to see you again. You’re quite the pretty purr-son, dontcha think? Or maybe I’ll just drop by at the next unbirthday party... Riddle and Trey would like that, but I wonder what you’d think. Hum-hum-hummm... 

Kitty Kisses, 

Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker <3 

Neige Leblanche - (The Reader is called NRC’s ‘princess’ in this one, but not called a woman or anything)

My Dearest, 

Hello! How are you fairing? Have you been doing okay since the VDC? I know that you looked pretty shaken up back then, so I wanted to make sure that you’ve been okay. After all, you’re NRC’s princess! As far as I can tell, anyway. I’m happy that there’s someone around Vil like you, he always looked like he needed a good cheering up. And you’re like a fairytale! Such pretty hair and eyes and skin; Oh, I’d ride away with you on a white horse if I could! 

Ah, that’s odd to say to someone I don’t know very well, isn’t it? I’m sorry, that’s my fault. You still want to be friends, right? If you do, please come visit me at some point. Or, just send me a letter back. I’ll make sure that you get priority over any fan letter. 

Love, 

Neige Leblanche 

Rollo Flamme - (Kinda sugesstive) 

Mon Amour, 

There are times I wish I could tear you down and take you apart only to sew you back together. Rip you to shreds only to tenderly put each piece back where it should be. Drink from you until there's nothing left and then fill you up with all of the love I could offer, make you mine and mine alone. Those greedy thoughts shouldn't even make their way onto this paper, shouldn’t even be in my head, and yet here I am, penning them in a letter never to be sent. 

I truly wish you never see these letters, for I'd hate to be the reason your face turns to disgust, even if for a moment. Of course, I don't regret writing them. You will never read them, after all, but I believe I should get my thoughts out like this rather than bottle them up, lest I do something stupid and let you see them. I pray that you will never have to see me in a state like how I write to you, over my bedside table in the dead of night, eyes barely open and breath still recovering from dreams of a sweeter pleasure than I should sully your name with. 

I mention those dreams I have of you a lot, it seems, although I mean it in the most innocent way possible. Ever since I met you, you've infested my dreams and wormed your way into my heart like a parasite I can't rid myself of. My dreams are all of the sweet moments I have longed for and never gotten. I only have eyes for you, after all, and a saint may never lie with a sinner, lest they become one as well. 

Bonus: 

Checka Kingscholar - 

To Perfect, 

Hello! I am Checka Kingscholar. I am fiv years old. I like my unca. I like my dad and I love my mom. I love you! Goodbye! •ᴗ•

[orcelito]

Honestly sooooooo fucked up that I thought my overwhelming daily fatigue and debilitating body pain was a product of the awful working conditions I was under for years and years... and yet, despite being out of work for half a year now, I'm still so fatigued and in pain all the time??? Like come on man that's not fair

Oh well maybe I have liver disease and they'll treat it and then I am magically so much more energized like I was as a kid. We can only hope !!!!

[fxggotclown]

i find it very sad that i read a stupid amount of yaoi on mangadex earlier this year just to see what was up but forgot to put them in a list so i dont know what ones ive read

[krysmcscience]

Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:

The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.

Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.

It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.

Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄

Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.

also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh

⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️

Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D

Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.

Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:

'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.

you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH

And, finally:

lmao this is shit

True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.

Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD

Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D

Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)

[sm-baby]

I want to see all the carnival AU bios again, but finding Zooble's is too hard, even when using the search. I hope there's a more organized way to view them.

(Trying to come up with nicknames that said characters would give my characters.)

CARNIVAL AU MASTERPOST + BOUNDARIES

Augh... I never know how to organize stuff! But here is a mini master post of the TADC Info Cards (edited):

The Main Cast (Minus Zooble :C)

Zooble ( Plus Zooble!!! :3)

Shiny Cards ✨

Lesser AI

THE GLOINKS!!!

Level layout

OFFICIAL COMIC:

The Entire Comic has also been dubbed by @volticglitch !! If you're not a reader, You can watch their dubs instead!! Here is the dub

Your best friend!

Jesterly duties

The hallway

Crying

First clue

Special event!

Foul language - a silly

Excuse me?

Leave!

A word with Bubble

Let it Settle

CONCEPT ART:

Characters Relationship Chart ( Bonus, OC relationship Chart!)

The Tent

The Funhouse

Cutscene

Pomni expressions

Character design

Meet Pomni

ALT character skins (Bonus, Maid skins because of course I did)

Pomni expressions AGAIN!!! (and a bonus)

The Jester's Circus tent (and a bonus)

References

Shape language ramble

LOREEE:

Neck pieces

Neck pieces (prt 2)

Neck pieces (prt 3)

Silly Frilly

Toxic Positivity Duo

Quick Ragatha Doodle

The Rabbit

Non-sentient Pomni

Pity Laugh

First act of violence

First and only visit

DOODLE DUMPS:

First look

Meet Jax

Meet Ragatha

Meet Kinger

Meet Able

Zooble's room

Theatre shinanigans

Thanks for listening

Jax Doodles

Ragatha doodles (Feat. Kaufmo)

Caine doodles

Queenie?

Colored doodles

Eye popping

Jax Ko-fi request!

SILLIES!!:

The "Sillies!!" Section is moved HERE becuase the mastpost couldn't take any more links!

╔══ ❀•°❀BOUNDERIES/FAQ❀°•❀ ══╗

"Can I make OCs In Carnival?" - Yess!! Multiple people already have and they make me so happy! do whatever, as long as you're happy and having fun!! " Can I make NSFW?" - Yas and slay, just be sure to warn and spoiler it, etc. etc. be responsible when posting NSFW! " Can I make Fanfics?" - Yes and please show me!! that would be lovely!! " Can I dub/voice your stuff?" - Yes but, I have only one rule... show me pleaaasseeee pls pls pls 🥺🙏 " Can I ship the characters/self ships/ OC x Canon?" - Aughh.. this is gonna suck to explain cuz its a lot to ask.. You're allowed to ship any ship! My only boundary is that it doesn't include either Pomni or Caine being with others who are not eachother! For example: Ragatha x Jax ✅ Pomni x Jax❌ Kinger x Queenie✅ Kinger x Caine❌ As long as the ship does not include Pomni or Caine individually, I'm all aboard!! I respect Jax x Pomni shippers, as well as Kinger x caine shippers, I just don't like them myself and don't want to accidentally stumble upon them in the tag! I do apologize if that's a lot, it just makes me uncomfy! Bounderies can be very tight! :')

[holdmytesseract]

Save a Bike, Ride a Biker

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: You plan to surprise Daryl and give his bike a scrub. But before you are able to finish your good work, Daryl walks in on you...

Warnings: TWD stuff, weapons, smoking? fluff, cleaning a bike? suggestive smut

Set in Season 9!

Word Count: 1,9k

a/n: This idea didn't come from me. @erebus-et-eigengrau hit me up with that thought, and I was like: YES, I'm turning this into a fic. I love it! Thank you so much for this, friend!

This song plays an important role:

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

Warm, pleasant sunlight greeted you as you rolled out of bed. Smiling, you tiptoed barefoot over to the open window; letting the sun warm your skin for a moment and to take in a deep breath of the fresh morning air. It was going to be a very beautiful day today in Alexandria, as it seemed - much to your delight. Why? Because you'd be a woman on a mission today.

Of course you didn't fail to notice, that the other side of the bed was already cold and empty. Not quite surprising when your boyfriend was Daryl Dixon. You got used to mostly waking up alone. That made the mornings you did not wake up alone even more enjoyable and valuable.

Stretching your still tired limp, you made your way across the hallway to the bathroom; paying the toilet a quite urgent visit. After relieving your bladder of its burden, you made your way downstairs; actually aiming for the kitchen, but when you noticed the main door being ajar, you halted in your movements. Usually, the main door wasn't ajar - except when... You smiled and changed your direction; heading straight for the door. Peaking outside, your suspicion was proven right. Daryl was leaning against the wooden post, which stabilised the roof over the porch. Smoke was billowing in clouds through the air.

Not giving a flying fuck that you wore nothing more than your panties and one of Daryl's way too big t-shirts, you tiptoed over to him with a smile; running your arms over his back and encircling his waist. "I thought you already left," you prodded; pressing a kiss against his leather clad back. The archer didn't even flinch. He knew it was you. It wasn't the first time you had done this. All that was coming from him was a scoff. "Ain't leavin' withou' sayin' goodbye, sunshine. Ya know tha'." "Mhm," you hummed and rested your head against his back. You didn't say much and just enjoyed to hold him; letting his familiar scent invade your airways and clouding your brain. Daryl didn't have to say another word as well. He kept on smoking; finishing his cigarette, before stubbing it out and - well-behaved disposed the stub in the ashtray you placed on the railing of the porch, like you told him. You had been tired of collecting the cigarette stubs all over the porch, so you taught him to get rid of them properly; saving trouble and your nerves.

The archer turned in your embrace then; calloused hands finding your hips and deft fingertips playing with the fabric of his t-shirt. He raised an eyebrow. "Ain't ya cold, sunshine?" Daryl asked; referring to your - some would say flimsy - outfit. You shook your head. "A little bit. But I don't care. You're warm and I just want to stay like this," you smiled up at him with a cute scrunch of your nose, before you buried your face in his chest. A grunt - very close to a small chuckle left his lips; hands wandering and arms wrapping you up in a hug.

The two of you stayed like that for a long while, until a whistle cut through the air, causing both your heads to turn to the left. Rick was standing down the street, waving at his brother and signalling him that they were good to go. "Gotta go, darlin'," Daryl stated the obvious and loosened the embrace around you - much to your dismay, but knew that you had to let go. "Be careful, yeah? I want your pretty ass back in one piece, understood?" You warned in a loving manner; gently caressing his sides. The archer scoffed at your words. "Ain't pretty." You giggled, "Yes, yes it is." and gave his ass a playful swat - which caused his cheeks to redden. "Y/N!" You just giggled more and shrugged your shoulders. Daryl was so cute when he was embarrassed. "Goddammit, woman..." He groaned and sighed almost overdramatic. You stood on your tippy-toes and pressed a sweet, apologising kiss on his chin; feeling his goatee tickle your lips.

And then you quickly shifted back from playful to serious. "I mean it, Daryl. Stay safe, okay? Look after yourself and Rick." He nodded and gently put his thumb and forefinger underneath your chin; softly angling your head upwards. "I promise. Ain't gettin' rid a me." "Good." You smiled and squeezed his middle softly; wordlessly asking for a kiss - and Daryl granted your wish. He dipped his head and met your lips for a sweet, but quick kiss.

"Think we'll be back 'fore dark." You nodded and let go of him; crossing your arms over your chest and watched the man you loved shoulder his crossbow and disappear down the street.

After starting properly into the day - which included a shower, getting dressed, brushing teeth and having a breakfast, you reported for watch duty; taking over for Rosita.

Once your shift was over, you baked some cookies and then finally had the time for the one thing you had planned today. Like mentioned... You were a woman on a mission... Namely giving Daryl's dirty bike a thorough scrub. The archer's beloved two-wheeler was more than dirty. Dirty was an understatement... Since he was more than occupied with leading the Sanctuary, building a bridge and doing runs, his bike was the one suffering from his busy schedule book. Therefore, that he drove with Rick to the bridge today, his bike was here - and that gave you in return the perfect opportunity to get the second love of his life spruced up. Plus, you wanted to surprise Daryl with it, because why not? He deserved it. And the bike as well.

So, you rolled the bike out of the small garage and on the little courtyard in front of the cute little house you and Daryl shared. "Alright, let's do this!" You said to yourself; preparing a bucket with hot water, some soap you found and a sponge. Before you got started, though, you pulled the little walkman you found out of the pocket of the shorts you wore, alongside the familiar cassette. Daryl found that walkman on a run a few months ago, together with a ton of cassettes and of course, he immediately thought of you - and you loved the archer for it.

You plucked in the headphones, pressed play and started your good work.

The music was loud. Not loud enough to attract any walkers or other possible threats outside the walls, but loud enough to be clearly heard by everybody who'd walk by. You didn't care, though. You were in the zone; somewhere on music cloud nine, all while dancing and vibing - and cleaning your boyfriend's motorcycle.

Therefore, that you were so caught up in your music and the task at hand, you neither realised how the sun started slowly to sink, nor how the archer walked down the street to your shared house; crossbow slung over his shoulder.

Music urged to Daryl's ears as he stopped right in front of the courtyard; eyes locked on you - cleaning his bike. The archer didn't have the time to question himself why the fuck you were doing that, since you started humming alongside to the tunes of 'Whole Lotta Love'. Led Zeppelin... Daryl shook his head; unable to suppress the smirk which wanted to spread over his lips. It was another moment in which he realised that he had fallen in love with the right woman.

It was all fun and games, until you picked up the dancing again - and oh, boy, you were a real good dancer...

It was so cliché. Who didn't know the typical image of a hot chick cleaning half naked a vehicle to preferably sexy music? Lots of soapy foam, sponges and wet bikini tops. If this would be a form, Daryl could tick all boxes - except that the bikini top was a sports bra.

He had to take a deep breath.

Damnit, it was cliché, but Daryl didn't give a fuck. He settled for enjoying the show and see how long it took you to notice him. So, he moved to sit on the porch, set aside his crossbow, lit a cigarette and let his blue-grey eyes linger on you; feeling his jeans just grow a little tighter.

Once the song was over, you gave the bike's saddle a last, finishing scrub, took a step back and admired your work. Smiling, you removed the headphones, from which the next rock song was already blaring; hands on your hips and definitely satisfied with the outcome of your mission. You were sure that Daryl was absolutely going to- "Thing ain’t ever looked tha' good. Not even 'fore I put it together."

The archer's voice suddenly sounding from behind you caused you to almost jump out of your skin. Turning quickly, you found your boyfriend sitting casually on the porch; cigarette pinned between his thumb and forefinger. "Fucking hell, Daryl!" You exclaimed; taking a deep breath. "You scared the shit out of me!" The man squeezed an eye shut and ducked his head slightly. "Sorry. Didn't mean ta scare ya."

You smiled, shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest; feeling the wetness of the water and soap soaking the fabric of your bra even further. "How long have you been sitting there?" Daryl shrugged his shoulders; eyes definitely not directed on your face. More like... one floor below. "Dunno, least five minutes or so..." You raised an eyebrow; noticing immediately that he was a liiittle bit distracted. "Enjoyed the show, huh?"

Daryl licked his lips and finally lifted his gaze to meet yours. "Woulda lie if I said I didn't." He jutted his head at you and his beloved vehicle. "Did ya swap the horse fer ma bike now, sunshine?" You giggled; shaking your head. The archer knew that you mostly preferred one of the horses over an vehicle, so he just couldn't let the opportunity slip to tease you.

But you quickly recovered from the scare he had given you and unbeknownst to him ruining his own surprise. So, you had to make the best out of the situation and his forward pass - namely, pot the ball.

"Nope," you started; popping the p, "Just gave it the much needed scrub." and moved to lean against the bike; palms on the saddle to support your weight. "I'm rather saving the horse and steel horse and ride the cowboy instead."

You could've sworn that his jaw was on the verge of dropping, but Daryl Dixon being Daryl Dixon, masked his emotions and opted to play it cool instead. "Pff. Cowboy my ass."

Once more you raised an eyebrow at his reaction. "Oh, apologies, your majesty. I'll rephrase it." You cleared your throat. "I'm rather saving the horse and steel horse and ride the smokin' hot, crossbow wielding archer sitting on my porch instead." Daryl scoffed and merely shook his head. "Ain't 'smokin' hot'. If someone's smokin' hot 'round here, 's you."

You sighed; feeling flattered and a little sad at the same time. Flattered, because of Daryl's cute attempt to flirt, and sad because the wonderful, special, beautiful man across from you still had a hard time accepting compliments.

You'd work on that, but first you had to finish what you started - or might as well both.

Shaking your head, you made your way over to Daryl and climbed the few steps leading up to the porch and reached for the archer's free hand. "C'mon, handsome. We gotta save those bikes and horses..." He immediately shuffled and moved to stand up. "Can't say no to tha'," Daryl took a last drag of his cigarette and quickly discarded it into the ashtray; following you and leaving his crossbow behind on the porch. He wouldn't need it. Not for the next few hours.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @mischief-dream @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @stiveroon @cakesandtom @mayday2007

[polyestercleaner]

Can we get a nsfw alphabet with joost please?💫

Yippee ya yay I was waiting for someone to request this!!! Thanks for the request yah!

|Summary:Nsfw Alphabet For Joost

|Content Warning⚠️:Nsfw duh

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

The absolute sweetest, pats your head and plays with your hair.

If your REALLY done and your absolutely exhausted he'll pick you up and help you get cleaned, washing your face and helping you wear your clothes as you both giggle and talk about how good that was

We all know he's a ginormous smoker so what's better than a smoke after having sex with someone you adore? He'll take you with him out to the balcony and either have you sit down on his lap or next to him, if your a smoker to you'll share together, playfully blowing smoke on eachother

If he's too tired aswell, you'll be the one in charge, helping him slip his clothes back on and then laying on top of him, soft kisses everywhere until he sleeps.

I'd say he's more of a giver than a receiver though so it's mostly him caring for you afterwards!

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

I'm a firm believer that joost is a tits man, prove me if I'm wrong, he loves your tits, small big medium it dosent matter hell still be fondling them and placing kisses on your sensitive nipples

He lives the dips and curves you have, whether you were a fat or skinny person, he loves feeling the curves and dips on your thighs and rib cage or tummy

As for himself I'd say his hands, just adores how much he can do to you with them, he knows how much you notice the size difference between your hand and his. Loves the fact he can ruin you with just one hand.

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

As much as I think he'd love to cum inside of you at all times, when he knows he can't or if your simply not into that at the very moment, it's always gonna be on your lower part of your tummy, always there, loves the whimpers and soft gasps you let out when he comes on your tummy and the warmth of it shocks you once again.

If you let him cum inside you? Well it's over, he's gonna stuff you full with his cum until your hole can't keep it inside, and he'll still use his fingers to push back the cum oozing out of your cunt.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

REALLY wants to fuck you while wearing those slutty lingerie fits, it might not be extremely dirty but I feel he would view it as so

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I'm pretty sure he already said he isn't a virgin(after attempting to lie that he's a virgin XP) after a while of knowing you I'm sure he'd be able to memorize your body like the back of his hand

He knows every part that could get you to arch your back by then

And he definitely has experience with a couple of women

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Doggy style probably,, enough of those references joost:o pulling slightly at your hair just to see the way your face scrunches and the way your mouth falls open when he slams his cock deep inside of you

If there's a mirror than that would make things even better

Cowgirl too, rubs circles into your hips as you desperately bounce on his cock to chase after your climax

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

Most definitely silly, cracking a joke every now and then

Always stopping mid way to say something stupid that will get you laughing for 4 minutes straight

He's just fucking funny man

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

NEVER shaves it at this rate i don't think he ever picked up a razor for the purpose of shaving it

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Despite being silly alot during it he will make sure you feel loved and desired

Placing kisses on your cheeks and thighs when he's going down on you

Complimenting you during and after

"You did so well, so gorgeous" he'll tell you while playing with your hair after your both done

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

He's got you, why would he wanna jack off?

When your not around and he's out on tour or your simply not in the mood I'd say he jacks off at least twice a week, all while thinking about you

Whimpering your name forever and always😞

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise kink(he'll praise you at any chance he has)

Bondage

Breeding kink(he just loves seeing your tummy all round and full of his cum)

Dacryphilia(only if your tears are from pleasure) he'll coo at you and brush your tears away despite how much he loves seeing them

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

does he even care at this point?

Wherever you want, whenever

His favorites are your bedroom and backstage sex will always be his favorite

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

The way you look at him will always get him, fluttering your eyes and acting all innocent

Seeing you wear his clothes of any kind

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

Anything to do with piss😞🤞

Even tho I think he'd be open to anything I feel like public sex will always be a no no unless it's discreet yo a certain extent

No threesomes why would he give you away to someone else

Any weird ass petnames like daddy or something (master, sir)

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

Prefers going down on you

When isn't he NOT pussy drunk

He won't get off of you until he makes sure you came around his tounge atleast 3 times

He's very skilled, his tounge circling around your clit and teasing your hole before pushing his tounge further inside

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends, morning sex with him would be slow and sensual, he'll focus on making sure you feel good and loved, kisses everywhere and praise all over the place

Usual sex at night will be slightly rougher, bending you over anything in your room. Fucking you like it's the last time he'll get his hands on you

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

Never passes a chance to get a taste of you

Fingering you in a bathroom stall and when you both hear people come on his hand will fly to your mouth to shield all the moans that slip out

Yet he still continues fingering you, despite all the noises your poor cunny is making

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Open to trying things, no matter what.

Hell take some risks here and there if he's really in the mood

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

I feel like you both would have equal amounts of stamina

Hell go for 3 rounds maybe 4 if he's really full of energy

Or you'll both doing an extra round that's too sloppy cuz your both exhausted

His thrusts become sloppy over the rounds, which only makes you more overstimulated and frustrated

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He found out you owned toys on a random day and now when he comes over he'll randomly find one when he's looking around at your room and just ends up using it on you

If you own vibrating panties or small vibrators he'll use them when you both go out

Watching you squirm in your seat if he turns the vibrations up

Your mouth falling open as you try to regain composure so you wouldn't out yourself to everyone

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Biggest fucking tease out there

Whether it was normally or sexually

He'll never pass a chance to tease you in bed either

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

Not too loud if he isn't throwing praises at you

Groans and whimpers here and there and that's about it

Mostly quite just to focus on hearing the sounds you make

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

Cock warming lover

It dosent even have to be sexual He just loves the feeling of you on his cock, warming up every inch of him, sometimes he'll end up bucking his hips and thrusting up into you occasionally

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

5 inches max 6 if he's really hard

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

Pretty horny, atleast 3 times a week, but you always have something going on almost everyday

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He dosent really sleep afterwards, just goes out for a smoke or just smokes while your laying on his chest, drifting into sleep but he just simply stays awake, smoking.

|Okay don't blame me if this turns out shit I haven't done these in a decade or so. Thanks for the request!٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity) Chapter One: A Lesson In Kissing

Chapter One: A Lesson In Kissing

warnings: kissing, exploring sexually, fluff, mentions of IRL creative licenses/pop culture references pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: after a few weeks of getting to know the shy and stoic Nanami Kento, you invite him over to your dorm to watch some anime. as things progress, you realize that you have taken his kissing virginity...

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @seireiteihellbutterfly @benkeibear @kenpachisbrat. @gennaray

MDNI banner and Support your writers banner by the lovely benkeibear!!!

Masterlist

Classes had begun fairly well and you were getting into the full swing of things. Moving to a different city and going to a prestigious university hadn’t been your initial plan, but when you won the bursary and the scholarship, you found yourself unable to say no. Your parents had encouraged you to go, praising you for your high grades and your charismatic nature. So with that in mind, you had been very excited about the prospect.

You had worked in a bank a little bit during your last year of high school. And it completely changed your mindset about money. You decided not long after that that you were going to study to become a financial advisor. You wanted to be able to help people with their money. You wanted them to see that they could make good, fiscal plans with their assets.

And taking classes in business and finance could open a lot of doors for you. Even if the financial advisor job fell through, you could make your way into a job in stocks. Anything in the financial and business field would make you happy.

This is where you met Nanami Kento. He’s shy, sullen and stoic. He hides in the back of your shared classes. You swear he’s not paying attention whatsoever, but he’s acing the tests and the quizzes. He’s at the top of the class, no matter the subject. He’s got his nose buried in a book or his notebook most of the time.

It was his amber eyes that drew you in. Most of the time you only got to see one as he covers the other with his bangs. He rarely smiles, which also draws you in. Everyone else is dressed in business attire, whereas Kento wears business casual. And he’s very heavy on the casual side of things.

But due to his academic successes and good grades, nobody is batting an eyelash at him. Seemingly you might be the only person in these classes that is even remotely interested in him. One thing that really caught your eye was his collection of pins on his jacket.

You approach him one day after class, and he shoots you a confused look. Everyone is leaving the classroom, but you wanted to get to know him more. You wanted to approach him. And the minute you do, you notice not only does he have a look of confusion on his face, but he’s also blushing.

“You’re Nanami-san, yes?” You inquire, even if you know the answer.

He pulls his bag over his shoulder, “Y-yes. That’s me.”

You introduce yourself and extend your hand out to him, “Nice to meet you. I really like your pin.”

When he doesn’t shake your hand, you point at the cute little GIR pin on his lapel. Not many people you know have watched Invader Zim. He sort of looks at you in shock for a minute before turning away. 

“Thanks, see ya.”

And you don’t approach him for another few weeks after that first encounter. You wonder if he’s just shy or if he’s abrasive. He seems so cute in your eyes. So you push yourself to make an effort to talk to him more.

The second time, you invite him out to lunch. He doesn’t outright say yes, but he also doesn’t say no. He begins to follow you to the cafe just outside of the campus. You both order a coffee and sit in silence for a little bit.

“How’d you find the test?” You ask him, taking a sip of your coffee.

He shrugs, “It was fine.”

“You must be very smart. You’re at the top of our class.”

He blushes and shrugs once more, “I don’t know. It’s just not too hard for me.”

The conversation dies down before you head over to the counter and order two sandwiches. Then you return with the two plates and Kento is confused. It’s been a long time since anyone has bought him lunch. He’s really not sure why someone as beautiful as you would even bother with him.

“Do you like the band The Used?”

Kento’s eyes widen, “Y-yeah! You like The Used?”

You nod. “Love ‘em! They are so awesome.”

This begins an acquaintanceship between you and Kento. You spend the lunch hour chatting about your favorite bands, your favorite manga and anime and of course, your favorite tv shows. You both discover very quickly that you have so much in common.

By the time lunch hour is over, you’re both upset that you’ll have to end the conversation. You see Kento in a whole new light, and him…he realizes that there are still some good people in this world.

The next time you two meet, you invite him to your dorm room. He’s never been invited to someone’s dorm since he enrolled, so he’s a little nervous about it. Not to mention the fact that he thinks he’s developing a crush on you. This coupled with the fact that he’s entirely a virgin scares him. Nevertheless, he makes his way to your dorm and knocks on the door. In his other hand is a bag of snacks and drinks to share with you.

“Kento-kun! Nice to see you! Come in,” you greet him in such a sunny way. Your demeanor was beginning to remind him of someone from his past.

He smiles shyly, “Thanks.”

He makes his way into your little space. Despite it being small, you’ve managed to make it feel so nice and cozy. It’s well decorated with band posters, comfy furniture and even a little kitchenette area. He’s surprised that you could make such a small place look so much like a home.

“Sit down,” you motion to the couch. “I’ll get us some cups.”

You return to the living room area of the room and join him on the couch. On your little TV, you have some old anime playing. Kento is immediately sucked in. You find the drinks in his bag and pour the drinks. Your fingers brush against his when you pass him the cup. He shudders from the sudden contact, hiding it by returning his attention to the TV.

“You like this?” You gesture to the TV.

He nods, “Yeah, this is Ninja Scroll, right?”

“Yeah! I didn’t think anyone was still interested in this sort of stuff.”

You and Kento begin a conversation about anime and the movie that’s playing. You both can’t stop talking to each other. It’s just like the conversation continues to flow so naturally between the two of you. The more you conversed., the more you found yourself liking him. He’s cute, knowledgeable and not like a lot of the other guys you’ve met.

As the conversation dies down, both of you sit in a comfortable semi-silence. The movie comes to a point where the romance is noticeable. You feel your heart pumping a little faster when you look at Kento again.

He’s blushing as his eyes lock with yours. He’s never even kissed before, but he’s not stupid. He knows where you want to take this relationship, but he’s so damn scared to fuck it up. There’s got to be some sort of false confidence he could display.

Yet the minute your soft lips press against his, he knows you’re going to be able to suss out his inexperience within seconds. He doesn’t know how to kiss you back, so he sits there stunned. His hands are shaking as you sit even closer to him. And then when you pull away, you notice the look on his face.

“Shit, I am so sorry, Kento. I thought…well, I thought maybe you wanted to make-out.”

Kento’s cheeks burn even more, “I-I do, I just… Idon’tknowhowto.”

You can barely make out what he’s just said. But the sentiment is there and you pick it apart. He’s never made out before. Your brain turns this information over a few times and then it clicks. That was probably his first kiss. You begin to blush and apologize profusely.

“I am so sorry, I thought that maybe…”

Then he surprises you. He kisses you. It’s sloppy and harsh, but you appreciate it all the same. Your hand reaches out to cup his face, and he shudders again. You’re so soft and you smell so good and the feeling of your lips on his makes his heart race. When he pulls away, he’s the one apologizing.

“Don’t even say you’re sorry. That was a sweet kiss.”

Then the two of you turn to face each other. The tension could be cut with a knife. You reach out to cup his face again, pulling him even closer. His hands shake as he tries to caress you, but he’s just not even sure what to do. You lead him through another kiss, this time you deepen it just a bit more.

His fists stay clenched at his side for the first part of this kiss, then you gently reach out to intertwine your fingers with his. The minute you do this, he melts into the kiss.

Then you pull away, leaning your forehead against his. Your hands are so soft against his face. He nuzzles his face into your palm before he leans in once more. This time, Kento takes the lead which surprises you. He pins you down on the couch with his body weight.

The kisses that follow are so tentative and slow. He’s learning how to be less sloppy and more precise. He’s gaining confidence the more you two explore, and soon you feel his hands on your sides. He caresses you so softly, almost like he’s afraid you’re going to slip away and end up being some figment of his imagination.

“You’re a good kisser,” you compliment him when you both pull away to breathe.

“T-thanks…you were my first.”

You cup his cheeks, “I know that, baby.”

Then your lips meet in another sweet kiss. But this time you surprise him by gliding your tongue along his bottom lip. Kento freezes for a moment, then he parts his lips.

‘So soft, so sweet…tastes so good.’ His mind is racing with thoughts like this. ‘Wanna taste her even more…’

Your tongues rub and roll together sensually. Soon you feel him grinding against you and you notice just how hard he is. His erection is poking against your thigh. And as much as you want to keep going, you think it’s probably for the best that you pace these things out.

So you pull away, leaving Kento panting and looking so dazed. He’s so sweet like this. This is the cutest look on his face you have ever seen. His lips try to chase yours a little, but you pull back just enough. Then you caress his cheek.

“Let’s slow this down, yeah?”

He swallows hard. “Oh uhm…yeah okay.”

You notice his disappointment, “I just don’t want you to rush into this. Let’s make this something special,”

He finally nods and smiles. His heart feels full of affection for you. This was exactly what he needed after all the trauma in his life. You were truly someone who cared and you were looking out for him.

You kiss his cheek. “Don’t worry. I really like you. I’m not kicking you out.”

He smiles shyly, “Okay cool. Can we maybe cuddle?”

You wrap your arms around him and bring him even closer. His head rests on your chest and you two fall into the blissful happiness of cuddles.

[matchadobo]

KIDD; kiss-proof lipstick review

warning/s: very fluff, fem reader, youtuber/streamer!kidd, shy!s/o, modern au, most nsfw thing could happen is an abrupt makeout

note: based from this -> post, smaller italicized texts are sub-bullets

kidd as a youtuber that normally does metal covers with his band (heat, killer, and wire)

has about a solid following of 100k subs bc they're just so cool

that is until his viewers asked for his makeup tut bc he always looks so bomb

his viewers have also requested fit checks like what he wears in a week

kidd forgot to mention that he has a s/o, which mildly upset a certain demographic who was ahem thirsty for him

you as his gf doesn't really mind if he talks to himself in front of his phone or camera on random times, but he always tells you a quick warning beforehand bc you sometimes appear on the bg of his vids/streamer

i also think that at some point, kidd does game streams bc he's lazy to edit. his fanbase supports any content he does whether it's just yap streams or food streams or band rehearsals

i feel like he always aims for competitive games that are pvp like MK, COD, league, etc. it just feeds his ego, and he enjoys trashtalking 😭 riling his opponent up and all that

it's all so funny, which explains his fanbase that tolerates his insufferable temper and jokes. it takes a certain kind of humor that other people might take as offensive

but the second he got sponsored by a punk make-up line, a pr box arrived at his doorstep bc he rarely checks his emails

he'd ask you to do a makeup stream with him, but you were too shy about it. especially after being the final boss of a certain demographic that is attracted to him 😭 but you never told him that. knowing him, he'll probably flip all of them off and cause drama

he'd start up stream, poorly introducing the products. you laughed to yourself at how bad he was at complimenting or kissing ass to the brand he legit has never heard of😭

kidd knows how to apply his makeup; shadow, liner, and lipstick. he tried on a purple and red shadow combo and his usual full eye liner.

his stream at that point became very chill, his fans loving every bit of his craft and how focused he was doing everything. especially at how he looked like afterward

"now we got- kiss-proof lipstick? they sent me a shit ton of fuckin' shades!" he showed a whole box of liquid lipsticks. laughing at the ridiculous amount.

his fanbase requested a test of the kiss proof on his palm, showing interest in the product

but kidd had different ideas. it might be a good way to hard launch you already.

his ig and twt already had pictures of you during dates, but your face was always hidden most of the time

"a test on my palm? oh boy, i have a better idea for that."

he'd call you, "babe! baby! c'mere a moment, i need ya a bit."

his chat would go: "babe?!?! omg hard launch?!", "omg here is his s/o!", "OH GOD KIDD YOU SLICK CHEEKY FUCK!"

you'd be scared for a bit, but kidd looked really excited. besides you also want to check out his makeup products.

"are we gonna do it together?" you muttered lowly, referring to the review

"kinda." he shrugged. "i just got one lil job for you, you'd love it promise."

you were skeptical at first but oh well. kidd lets you pick the lipstick of your choice, which was a bright red. it always looks good on him.

the chat was highkey going crazy when your body from neck below was showing

they also noticed how kidd started acting differently, he spoke softly and he had this meek smile while looking up at you

he lets you apply it on him. you were now seating with the seat he pulled to let you down. the chat now being able to see you. you waved a hi shyly, and man the view count started going up

twt was already full of you guys 😖

kidd then fanned his lips, waiting for the product to dry.

"ok, what's next?" you asked, popping the lid close

"this." he grabbed the back of your head and kissed you on stream. holding the kiss pretty good in there, smirking through it as he did so, before sucking on your lips open

you were too flustered and frozen but he even had the audacity to angle his head the other way to continue kissing you

it was pretty fucking lewd, he was really getting in there

but you, you melted from his lips and his firm grip on your nape

the chat and stream lagged at the amount of chats and view counts increasing exponentially

once he pulled away after a good 2 minutes, he turned to the screen and said, "so? it really is kiss proof, aye?" he bursted out laughing at your reaction which was the same when he started kissing you 🤣

the chat also went hysterical, both from freaking out with the both of you and your reaction

you honestly didn't mind, you half expected it. it's kidd we're talking about🤣 because kidd did it as a flex and as a fuck you to his haters (especially those who were targeting you)

you had to excuse yourself which resulted to even more comedic response from kidd at how cute you are. you were burning red btw

you later come back to tell kidd and chat that you're okay, and you plan to get back on him for that

JASDHSAJDJSAJDSA I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! JUST DID THIS LAST NIGHT

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 8 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: you and stanley go fishing 

warnings (TW): swearing, panic attack/panic-inducing scenarios, slight gore/violence 

tags: mutual-pining, fluff, angst, action, affection

notes: idk anything about ice fishing so pls don’t get my ass for this okay, this was v different to write than my usual long drawn out heart gutting character analyses that I love (not that that is NOT here) but all the movement was deffff hard so it took me a minute but hey this is what I wanted imma do it ya know 

Also i configured this chapter in like three separate ways in my head and it was so hard to chose? But i think the one i did end up writing is most true to their dynamic so far. To be of note for the v stubble reference im giving here but yall know The Kiss by painter Gustav Klimt? Ya… that…. Thats here (spot it if you can) as always thank you for the kind messages and notes and comments, love yall <3 also comment below if you'd like to be on a tag list I should maybe organize that hehe

word count: 6.5k

| masterlist | ix |

January, 1987

She had found them both nice fold-out chairs at the flea market just that last season, along with fishing poles the nice old man insisted went with the seats also. Talked her ear off about how he used to go ice fishing with his son, before said son went off to college. 

Now he wouldn’t be home during the ice fishing season, so he saw no use for his chairs or his poles. But she did. 

Stan would tell her flippantly about his youth from time to time, usually if not always said stories incorporated Stanford in one way or another. It seemed that the two barely, if ever, separated during their youth. Something that upset her more, that her friend had never spoken of his brother to her in the six years they had known each other. She didn’t think he would speak of it all as fondly, these memories, considering he never confided in her about Stanley, to begin with. 

Stan would speak of the shoreline in New Jersey, of the sharp sand beneath his feet and hidden caves along the coast they both would trek through. Talk of the setting sun, of racing his brother home in the dark down paved streets back to their shared room. 

He spoke most fondly of a boat though, one that had taken both twins years to configure. 

She figured the fishing poles could be some sort of link, at least in her mind. 

That and they spent some of their summers down by the dock at the local lake anyway. Splashing in windy tides off the dock and watching boats go by until sunset was a great way to cool off. That or revisiting the pool, where Stan would insist upon ice cream for the short drive home. 

She figured he would wait for the season opener to go fishing. Considering she gave him the poles and chairs in December, a quick wave to Christmas, a holiday he laughed off on the regular. He would routinely celebrate it with her, just for the holiday cookies and cheesy movies he wouldn’t admit he loved. But he was Jewish, after all. At least raised in a Jewish household, he told her flippantly, after opening his gift this last December. Laughing at her blushing face, and flabbergasted stuttering, asking him why he would bother with all this. She sat straight when he said it was for her. Because she wanted to, so he would. Not that he was a religious man, anyway. 

He found it amusing this holiday season then, to find her struggling to make some traditional dishes his mother would make each year come December for the holidays. Nothing he necessarily missed, but something he found endearing nonetheless. Her usual attention to detail, and odd need to ensure his comfort. 

The fishing poles were a welcomed gift though, and he lit up at them and the differing tackles the nice man at the flea market had also gifted her. Hugged her into his side, while he ranted and raved about being able to fish off the docks come summer. 

But he didn’t want to wait. 

Something she thought rather glumly in the very early morning that January weekday. The sun not even having made its appearance, she had stumbled out of her bed around 4 a.m., having promised to reluctantly go ice fishing with said enthusiastic man. They stood before the porch door now, while he knelt in front of her, lacing up tall winter boots and pulling over her snow pants. Tucking her in, layer upon layer. Putting to use some winter clothes they both had rangled out of donation bins that very first cold season. The snow pants and boots had only ever really been used when they would trek through the outskirts of the woods, searching for clues to Stanford’s other journals. 

She was still half asleep on her feet, falling forward into Stan’s bent shoulder in front of her to groan. For some reason, he was wide awake, and grinning like a fool despite it being 4 a.m. That dumb look on his face reminded her why she even crawled out of her cacoon of blankets. He was beyond happy to be able to go fishing. Something he couldn’t even wait for a warmer season to do. 

He seemed a smidge like his younger self when he was closest to water. Some of his favorite memories are those ones with Stanford by his side and sand intertwined in his hair. His skin dark in the sun and his toes were deep in the tide of the sand. 

It seemed more distant now, as distant as Ford was to him now. He wanted to ground himself here too, and some of his new favorite memories are of them hanging at the end of the dock. His feet in the cold water of the lake, and her nudging his shoulder. Teasing him, edging him off the docks’ wood and into the cold water with her. He preferred the summer to the snowy winters, but he figured they could make some new memories by the water now also. Even if they were colder ones. 

So he more or less begged her to join him. Promising that he would handle the fish after she made a disgusted face at the thought of stripping the fish of their skin and bones for the meal they would make of the catch. She agreed though, happy to tag along if it pleased him. 

He stood from his knelt position in front of her, standing to reach behind him to grab his red coat from the coat rack. Turning back to her to fold her arms into the coat also, her eyes still blurry as she smiled at him slightly giddy. 

He had a gift for her that last December also. A coat folded into shitty wrapping newspaper he had thought to repurpose. She smiled at the blue coat but quickly became confused when she pulled it out of the wrapping to find it was far too big for her own physique to be for her. He had quickly pulled out another present for her, presenting her with another newspaper-wrapped gift. Which she tore open with haste, and rocked up quickly to her feet to dance around their small living room, his old red coat in her arms. 

It was hers now, and she reveled in the shitty coat. His smell still lingered in the seam line, and when she leaned her head far back into the hood she could pick up on his shampoo. It kept her warm, despite also not fitting her physique. 

He had woken up earlier than her that morning, putting the appropriate supplies for ice picking into the trunk next to their foldable chairs, the tackles, and the fishing hooks. So they made their way out into the dark, ducking into the car next to each other to make for the lake in the early morning. 

She hummed along to the radio as per usual, random songs interspersed in between the local morning forecast. She stopped though now, picking her head up from the back of the seat to look over at Stan. 

“We missed the entrance to the dock.” 

“Nah there's another one we can go to. Farther down, less people.” 

She hummed, smiling over at him. What he actually meant was there would be no lake office to report to. So no need to register them for the lake that day, and no stupid state fee to pay for fishing on the lake. Amused at his shortcuts, she turns back to watch the pine trees pass out the car window. 

It was a sharp, nose-burning 10 degrees Fahrenheit that day, according to the radio forecast. Only made worse somehow with the creeping darkness from the horizon line. The sun slinked slowly in the coldness of January. 

He made his way out first, the car’s cabin light flashing on as he grinned over at her. Securing his blue coat closed quickly before getting out to stomp a path in the fresh snow around the car. Pulling around the sides to pull open her door, before chugging around to the trunk to unload the supplies he claimed they needed. 

She knew how to fish, but had never ventured into ice fishing. Mainly because the cold was beyond unappealing to her. But the thermos Stan had presented to her before making out the door that morning heated her hands enough to dismiss the onslaught of negativity thrumming through her. And partially woke her up on the drive over. Stepping out into the crunchy cold snow to help Stan gather supplies. 

He shuffled her chair into her hands, slugging everything else into his own broad arms. He could reasonably carry everything, stomping forward in the snow to make a path for her to follow in. 

They had made a spot on the ice, the snowy shoreline a good bit away. Stan claiming the best spots must be farther out. Because the farther out, the bigger the fish. She sat, glancing around the empty ice. When Stan meant fewer people he meant no people. A frozen dock far off near the shoreline also, its wooden structure covered in ice. She watched him now, the fishing poles cradled in her lap, and the thermos warm in her hands. He’s bent in front of her, his mittened hands working an ice auger to break a solid hole through the thick layer of ice. 

Grunting, he stands back up, hands on his hips admiring his work. 

“Is the ice too thin here?” She observes. 

He tilts his head left, turning to her now. “No, doll. Perfectly fine right here. We’ll only be here until a little after sunrise anyway.” 

He sits in his own foldable chair that she had set up for him while he was finagling with the ice. Their chairs positioned side by side, a little distance between them and the whole he had just made. He reaches between them, opening up the tackle box to shuffle around drawers, looking for something in its depth. 

“Close your eyes, hun.” 

She rolls her eyes, closing them, while shuffling the thermos between her thighs to hold out her hands in wait. He places something in her mittened hands, it’s slightly heavy in them now. 

“Open ‘em.” 

She opens them to see an odd black contraption in her hands. Two knobs, a dark screen, and a long antenna on what she presumes is a battery-powered electronic. Almost too dark to make out what it was, but it hit her and she gasped. 

“Ta-Da!” 

“A radio!” She sings, clutching it closer to her chest and swinging in her seat to knock her knees with his. Clawing at his shoulder to fold herself into his neck and coat’s furry trim. She wouldn’t question where he got it, just revel that he had thought to, for her. 

“I know you weren’t too eager to go fishing with me, doll. But I figured this could make up for some of it.” He chuckled, readjusting his hat on his head after they pulled away. Knee’s still knocking between them. 

“I’d do anything with you Stan.” She hums, unthinking, as she looks down at the device in her hands. Tweaking around the knobs and the antenna to turn it on. She misses his flush next to her. 

She gets it working quickly, the music faintly staticy in the background of Stan attempting to put lures at the end of their poles. 

He gets her’s ready first, leaning forward in his seat to situate the pole in her hands. Pointing out the slack line and the type of lure he put on the end of her pole. She’s too distracted, like she always is when he’s probably explaining something vaguely important. 

The music hums between them, perched on the tackle box he had closed. His cheeks flushed from the cold, his hat slumping down the back of his head, hair peeking out around the rim and sticking to his forehead. He leans in closer, his knee and thigh along her own. His own covered hand reaching for hers, folding it around the pole for her to hold. 

They enjoy each other's company until the sun peaks up along the horizon, a good hour in. As they pass the coffee-filled thermos back and forth, she hums to the radio. Enjoying stories Stan told about tourists from the end of the last season. Telling her about their ridiculous questions he had to work around last minute. 

“Then he asked me if they were extinct!” 

“What you tell him?” 

“Well he couldn’t have been more than eight years old, and he got all teary-eyed when he asked me.” Stan waves his hand around, drumming up the memory of when a child had asked him if the fake displayed plady-beaver was the last of its kind. 

“Annnnddd?” She hums, sipping on the last of their shared beverage. 

“And I may or may not have said they were not.” He shrugs. “Was easy to convince the kid’s dad to buy him a plushy.” 

She laughs, thinking about the stupid merchandise she’s still not used to, that she sometimes restocked in the front of the house. But of course, Stan didn’t have the heart to really crush the kid’s spirit. Sad kids equaled less money probably, in his mind. That and he had a weird affinity of being about to communicate with them like no other. 

There’s a tug on her line suddenly, not the first in the hour they’d been at their spot, but the first real strong one she’s ever felt. Jerking her pole, bending it forward. Both her hands met the pole, yanked straight in her seat suddenly. 

“Woah!” He says, sitting forward and reaching for her pole also. His hands encased hers around the pole. “Hold it tight, hun.” Grunting in her ear. 

But the pulling got worse, had them both standing from their chairs. His arms around hers, helping her reel back the pole, pulling it back towards his left shoulder. His arms encasing her, pulling her flush with his front. 

“I gotcha.” He grunts again, close to her ear. 

“Do you?” Gasping at the strength of the pull along the pole. 

It seems to drag them closer and closer to the ice hole he had put in the ground not even an hour ago. His feet planted firm, yet scrapping against the ice. Hers fumbling, dipping under the strength of being pulled forward. Her hands tight, beginning to sweat and ache in the casing of her mittens. A heat around the ring of her hat. He’s hot behind her, warmth seeping out from his coat and onto her back. He feels firm, and yet they both continue a slow crawl forward. 

Until it tugs. It tugs so hard that she instinctually releases her grip. Her hands were still steady against the pole though, still beneath Stan’s own hands. 

The jerk has them both flung forward, his feet no longer steady, flipping against the ice. She’s still between his arms when they fall forward, inching towards the hole. He turns them somehow, taking the brunt of it on his right shoulder. 

Her head swims, having met the ground rather suddenly. But she’s between his arms, her hands having let go of the fishing pole. He’d let them slip from the pole, his arms tight around her, trying to take the force of the impact. 

“Stan.” She mutters, mushy between them. Her head pounded for a minute, as they continued to slide against the ice. His chin propped on her head, warm around her still. 

He doesn’t respond, because he’s given no time to. Another harsh tug on the pole sent him forward quickly towards the hole. He thinks fast though, bending his arms, hooking his feet along her legs, and pulling her out of his grasp. 

She slides along the ice and snow, his push along her legs and waist burned. She turned, pushing herself up on her hands. Grasping at the snow to get some balance. She had run into the chairs and tackle box. All their supplies scattered along the ice. The radio was static behind her. 

It had all happened so fast, her voice cracking in the cold air. Calling his name but not finding him. One moment he was there, the next gone. The water still. 

They had been pulled forward so suddenly, a quick five-second span between the tug and her head meeting the ice. And he was gone as soon as she had lifted herself again, the ice cracking along the sides of the former small hole. 

“Stanley!” Scrapping, crawling towards the hole. The surface wet and slick from the cold lake water that had seeped through the cracks along the hole now. Stan’s visage far from view, the top of the water dark. 

She stares in what feels like forever but is only quantifiable in the movements of the sun. It’s rising now, around her. Sparkling on the ice and water around her. Something she’d marvel at, have her grasping at Stan’s shoulder. Nudging him to see as she does. 

She thinks only briefly before shucking off her hat and gloves, beginning to unlace her boots. She’d follow him, into the dark depths. 

A deep continuous thump. Running along the ice. First near her feet, then farther and farther from her. It has her racing towards it, the vibrations along the ice guiding her along. It must be him, must be that something that pulled him into the dark murky water. The rhythmic thudding has her racing back to the supplies. Fumbling for the axe Stan had packed to help pick out the ice in the hole. 

Running full force back, the ice cracking beneath her legs. Shoelaces dancing around her feet, her fingers nippy and uncovered around the wooden handle of the axe.

It cracks, sickenly loud and sudden. Water bursts beneath her shoes, seeping up and around her. The ground opens up in front of her, splitting along the horizon line. A flash of blue precariously balanced in the large maw of a blurred creature. 

It shakes the ice, splintering and fracturing it below her feet. The weight of the creature resting the front of its body along the ice. Shaking the striking blue figure in its jaw, trying to subdue it. 

She stands still in the ankle-deep water, trying to make out the blurry figure in the maw of the anomaly. It strikes her then that it could be nothing else but Stanley, confirmed by the sputtering grunts the figure heaves, coughing up cold water from his lungs. 

She stands frozen only until then, stepping forward into the slowly sinking ice bath. Ax swung behind her shoulder, ready to slice along the neck of the beast in hopes it would release her husband. 

He clamors in the cage of teeth above. Raised his large hand into a well-practiced fist, blindly throwing said fist to meet the eye of the beast. 

The hit startles the beast, cracking open its jaw to release Stan, a sudden sharp screech creeping up its large neck through its throat. Rattling her bones as she leaps forward in the ice and water, bringing the ax into the meat of the beast's neck. 

It crawls back further, slinking back into the dark cold waters. She stumbles back through the ice and the water until she feels snow beneath her unlaced boots again, the ax gone from her grasp and embedded in the skin of the anomaly. The beast is there and gone in a flash, scrambling back beneath the water. 

Stan has the air knocked out of him, having landed on his back. His head cracked against the ice and water below, the cold creeping in through his clothes. He opens his mouth to groan but finds only his shallow breath and the puff of heated air leaves his mouth. The sun creeping above the horizon now, something he can only gauge by the heat on his face. The rest of him rock solid and shivering under the weight of his wet clothes. 

A sudden eclipse above his head, the sun, and shadows shaded by a beautiful face. Her face shadowed by the sun, her hat gone and her hair spilling all around her head like a halo. Her cheeks flush from the cold, from the adrenaline. It could be the cold or the way the light looks around her head, but he swore she must have been an angel. 

He’s muttering when she finally reaches him, stumbling through the cracked ice and wet water. Her only thought was getting to him. He was beyond sense when she did make it to him, clutching at his tattered and soaked blue coat. He was soaked, drenched to the bone. His hat gone and his hair icy along his head, his gloves gone also, a boot missing from his left foot. And he’s drenched. It all stuck to his body, freezing quickly in the icy temperature. She had to get him home, get him out of these clothes, and heat him up. 

She runs her hands along his coat first, checking for punctures, for blood. He had been dragged several yards under the water in the toothy jaw of said beast. But no punctures and no blood made themselves apparent through his coat. Something she’ll have to access later. 

A thump along the ice has her whipping her head around. The vibration rippling along the ice and the shards of the broken lake surface. The beast lingered in the area, waiting for them to be off guard again. 

She wastes no time, lifting Stan’s large arm up and above her shoulder. Leveraging his body up to be leaned against her side and her back. All those stories about mothers and daughters and adrenaline ring in her head, a truth to the stories of women and abnormal strength in times of strife. She would ache tomorrow, and be glad of it anyways. 

He unconsciously shuffles his feet, and she makes note that he’s somewhat conscious. The ice helps her slip them both along the good hundred yards she has until they reach the shoreline. Their supplies the least of her worries, and the anxious thought of the beast meeting her back out there in the wreckage of it all. She does not turn back to look when abandoning it all. 

It’s harder folding his stiff body into the passenger seat. His legs flopped into the car last. She curses, reaching over him to buckle him in and then making for the driver's side. She rarely drove them, it was more of a special occasion between the two of them. She had only ever driven once in the winter and had been deeply scared of the slipping ice and heavy snowfall. But the sky was clear and she’d put the thought of ice away for a long while. 

She curses again, reaching over to Stan to feel up the inside of his coat pockets for the keys. He stirs at the movement, shrugging off her touch, shivering in his seat. 

“Not Doc’.” He mutters, his head spinning. 

“What?” 

“You’re not Doc’.” He grunts again, his lips loose. His head hurts like a motherfucker. 

“I am!” She hisses, hands pushing his away, reaching for his pockets again, looking for the keys. 

“Oh.” He looks back, eyes blurry under the odd pressure along the back of his head. This person sounded like his wife, he’d admit. Shifting his head to lean against the back of the long bench, making out the flush on her face and the halo of hair around her head. He thought this was his angel? He guessed it was the same thing in his mind, anyway. 

She’s still ruffling through his soaked half-frozen jacket. “Hi, angel.” He says, smiling down at her frusstrated face. Why was she so frazzled? 

He’s grinning like an idiot, and he just acted like he didn’t know who she was. Like she wasn’t her. Calling her angel? He’d only ever done that in her dream. That achingly sick dream she had of them, of them in this very car. Of his weight above her, of his breath along the crook of her neck. Of his kiss. 

She shakes it off. Finally finding the keys folded into a very frozen and flat pocket along his chest. Turning back to the wheel, starting the car up, and peeling out of the parkway backward. Leaving the same way they had come in. 

She races home, glancing over at Stan stiff in the passenger seat. His eyes hadn’t left her figure but seemed distant. His thoughts far beyond him, and his coat and pants were frozen against him. His hair melts off his head in the car, still wet but no longer frozen to his scalp. Messy wet hair tucked around his big ears. 

She parks and throws open doors as quickly as she physically can. Slipping in the snow, tripping over her loose boots. Fingers frigid when she reaches for him to move him out of the passenger side. 

She knows the signs of hypothermia. Knows the dangers of prolonged exposure to cold, and dropping body temperature. Doing math in her head, hoping he had been exposed short enough for her to physically raise his temperature before his heart began to slow. Before blood began to sludge its way through his veins. 

He looks as blue as his coat, his arm slugged back over her shoulder as she attempts to get him up the stairs. The slurred speech, the confusion, the dulled skin. It made her heart race, taking steps two at a time to drag him to the upstairs restroom. To the bath. 

She sets him against the open door, running and slipping along the tile, turning on the bath to its warmest temperature. The water would be scalding against his cold skin, would sting and tingle in contrast to his wet clothes, but it was the only way she thought to raise his temperature. 

She rushes back to him, kneeling in front of him, grabbing at his coat and pants to pull the wet clothes from him. He’s smiling again, giggling at her attempt to uncloth him. 

“Could have asked hun.” He jokes, but she cries. He’s so out of it, so gone from this reality and it shakes her bones. He’s here and not all at once. 

He thinks he sees her clearer here in the yellow bathroom light, hot fog swelling around them from the facet. She has her hands all over him, eager to get him out of wet clothes that stick hard against his body. Didn’t she know? That all she had to do was ask and he would shed any layer to get closer to her? He giggles again, leaning into her hot hands against his cold blue body. 

She manages to get everything but his boxers and socks off him, a flush to her face. Not for lacking of trying though, but Stan would laugh and shake her hand away. Muttering under his breath between them when she would reach for the waistband of his usual blue loose boxers. So she luggs his wingspan along her back again, leveraging him up to move him to the scalding water. Heat bubbling up in clouds around the water. Bruises along his chest have begun to form from the pressure and weight of the beast's teeth and jaw. They’d turn purple and swell soon, a good sign she sighed. A swell meant blood was flowing fast still.

He hisses, his head rocking back along the edge of the clawed tub when he finally is able to sit in the water. It’s hot, too hot. It hurts to breathe in the heat, and he attempts to lift his lungs above the water to gain air again. The muggy water hurts his skin and burns him. But her hand meets his chest, pushing him back into the scalding water. 

“Stay.” She commands, eyes wavering when she looks at him now. Melted into the porcelain of the tub. He’s still shivering. He doesn’t even register it but his body has been shaking, vibrating, this entire time. Moving his muscles in an attempt to warm him up. 

She reaches to turn the hot water back on, cursing, beating her hand along the rim of the tub when the water comes out cold. It’s all gone. She looks down at him again, her hand moving along his chest, trying to generate heat where her hand was. “Stay, Stan. Stay in the fucking water.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He mutters, still smiling at her like an idiot. God, she was pretty, god her hand felt nice along his cold bitter skin. She was out the door so quickly. Was it possible to miss someone who was just in the other room? 

She’s barreling down the stairs, flipping on every gas burner in her wake on the kitchen stove. Stumbling to the cupboard, pulling out saucepans and the like to put water in. She’d boil it, damnit. Like her grandmother used to do for her when she was preparing her bath. 

She doesn’t breathe until every corner of the stove is full. Leaned over the countertop next to the burners. Her hand rubbed along her chest, along her heart. Self-soothing, the purpose of the continuous motion above the erratic beating. She had tunnel vision up until now, suddenly noticing that she hadn’t even flicked on the kitchen light. Hadn’t even closed the front door. 

She had been scared. Still was. Shaken beyond something she knew. It pained her to be in the next room, afraid of looking over her shoulder and not finding him there. She’d never lead them through crowds again, never let him stray far from her peripheral. Because then he would be gone, could be gone. 

Ice seeps in through her snow pants, and she tugs off her boots too. Socks wet against the kitchen tile. Her hands shake as she pulls her boots loose. 

She had almost lost him. Lost him for good. It was a shell shock beyond her, beyond her imagination. For the last five years, it was hard to conjure up adventures and trips without him. The thought of flippantly leaving him behind never crossed her mind. Hadn’t ever left her mind. Not after storming in through the shack's door, not after his confession to her across the dim kitchen table, across their kitchen table. 

She sits there now, feeling like it was a lifetime ago, but knowing she could blink and mistake the past for the present. He had reached across to her that night, across the table. Held his palms face up when he asked for help. When he confided in a four-second mistake he had made. She had hesitated then, to reach for him. To reach across and find assurance between them, to fold her hands into his own. She had judged initially. But they had both made mistakes. Both made mirror image mistakes, it felt. She didn't want to hesitate to reach for him ever again. She just feared he would be gone before she could. Feared he would disappear along her shoulder line. 

She had thought it was obvious, the unspoken agreement between them. That they both meant something to the other. That her dreams threaded into a deeper reality, and that the jokes they shared weren’t some passing balm to deal with it all. That the late nights in front of the T.V. analyzing movies were for the thrill of each other's company, and that their yearly poker game was a silent promise of convergence. That the shitty driving lessons weren’t so she could drive away from him someday, that chalkboard lessons were so he wouldn’t scoff when she said he was smart with her whole chest. That the yearly diner dates were just that, just dates. Not something flippant, not something as unkind as the upkeep of an image. That he opened doors for her for a reason and tucked her below his chin because he cared enough to. That he reached across tables, palms up, because he never feared her hesitation. 

Something unwritten between them she believed, everything shared in everything but words and letters. She was a calculating woman throughout her years and didn’t know how to trace the beginning of the feelings she had amassed all the way to the end of it. She didn’t know how to explain that her heart clenched when he leaned over the seat to buckle her in or explain how her hands shake when he reaches for the chalk from her now in the middle of a lesson. It was inconsequential, improbable, and entirely unexplainable to well… explain the sum of him to her. It felt little in comparison to his constant devotion. 

The two front pots begin to boil over, she lifts her head, turning off burners and carrying a stem to a pot in both hands. Taking the stairs two at a time again, uncaring about the burning water running down her arms in her haste to make it back to him. 

He’s still the same shade, but he lifts his head to look at her when she enters now. His smile less doppy, more genuine. His hair beginning to dry along his head, no ice to be found in its dark strands. He’s still leaning heavily along the back of the tub, not yet able to hold himself up. Color coming back to his cheeks, to his face. She kneels beside the tub, the floor wet as it seeps in through her pants. She pours in one pot at a time, swiping the water around to acclimate it to the bathwater. His hands move unconsciously, grabbing a strand of her hair to fold behind her ear. To be able to look at her more clearly through the fog of hot water. 

She begins to pour the next pot into the tub, but he tugs her forward, folds her body against the rim of the tub. Something in her makes her stand, lifting her feet into the tub. The way he looks at her, so disorientated and shivering still. It moves her forward, has her crawling into the tub completely clothed just to lay her cheek against his chest. To make sure it continues to rise under her. Like when she sleeps, and he lulls her back to sleep by simply being there. She wants that, for him to lull her racing heart now. Make her forget about his disappearing visage and still water. He does that, hums like he always does, folding her head under his scruffy chin. Comforting her despite his weakened figure. Hoping she wouldn’t notice how cold he still was against her. 

Something unwritten she believed, something she had never had to say out loud because she had never felt this weird depth before. But he was slipping from her grasp now, heavy against the rim of the tub. And so very quiet it made her sick, made her heart chase up her throat. Made her anxious beyond words, because the thing she meant to say to him would stay unwritten. If he was gone she’d only voice such fantasies in her dreams. The dreams she had of him as hers, those other realities her mind conjured where he wore a golden band and called her his. Where she was his. 

“You're mine.” Her voice was unwavering, something unwritten between the syllables of her words. It blooms and bursts from her throat, a growth that had sprouted long ago, stumbles out of her mouth searching for light. Still folded under his chin, along his chest. Her shirt wet from the water, bunched up along her waist where he had put his hands. 

He gets that look in his eyes despite her intensity, a joke on the tip of his tongue. Something to soothe her racing heart, to stamp down the distant look in her eyes. How she had looked in the car scared him, the rush of her chest but the focus of her eyes. Like they had been driving in the dark, through a neverending tunnel. But she chases it away before he can open his mouth, her hand meeting and cupping his scruffy jaw, pulling back from her comfort to look at him. Turning his eyes to her intense ones, ones that held something unspoken. 

“No.” A shake to her voice, eyes blurry. “You’re mine.” 

He nods, his voice stuck in his throat. Running his hands up her back, his warmer hands. 

“Y-you aren’t allowed to leave me like that, Stanley. You can’t l-leave me all alone like that.” Flashes of a towering beast are nothing compared to turning over her shoulder. Of searching the horizonline. Like she does for Stanford, eyes drifting to tree lines. She wouldn’t, couldn’t compartmentalize doing such a thing for Stanley. She’d take back hesitancies and reach across tables palm up if it meant he wouldn’t leave her again. 

“I promise, angel.” He takes her again, tucking her back to his chest. Her racing heart fluttered against his warming chest. “I won’t leave.” 

Her hand fall into that crook in his chest, the other clutching along his back, trying to bring him closer, trying to make the space between them disappear. She sniffling, from the cold and stress, against his chest and he doesn’t think twice about his words. Thinking of reaching for her, of meeting her across bridges and tables and in tunnels to meet her open palms, her warm hands. Unfurling her from his chest to lean down and place his lips near her ear, something unspoken between syllables. 

“You’re mine, too.” 

His lips traveling to her cheek, hovering against the flush skin before tracing her warmth. Kissing the apple of her cheek as she leans into the front of him. His lips warm against her cheek, like she had dreamed of. He had never been this close in the waking world, something she craved more with each passing day. She never pulled away, sniffling as he brings her forward again. No hesitation to be found in the nod of her head along his scruff, a nudge, and nestle of agreement. Something unspoken, unwritten. 

She forgot about the pots and burners. 

[notsopersonalcharlie]

Honey Belle

Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader fluff - Part of the Biker!Bucky Series

One part lead-up to the future and one part how Bucky and belle met.

Warnings: Mentions of sex and alcohol, discussion of a past relationship that bordered on abusive (non-binary reference), more car talk because i love mini coopers.

Note: My apologizes because i lost all my progress on this when i was about halfway through. Also I just have brainrot about them now sorry in advance.

"No no no no, please baby you can make it its just a litt-" The engine shuddered and then gave out. You groaned, banging your head against the steering wheel as you pulled off to the side of the quiet street. It was getting stifling in the car very quickly. The heat wave was precisely why you needed to take Baby Blue in. Your phone showed another mile and a half on the map you saved. This shop was in some dead end town, but it was the only one that had agreed to service the vintage coop.

"Couldn't have saved me the walk?" you asked to the car as you grabbed your bag and hauled it over your shoulder. You scrawled a note to leave on the windshield and began down the straight road. The trees on either side provided some shade, but there was no sidewalk, so as you continued you could peek back at your car and to check on any oncoming traffic.

The first signs of life you saw came ten minutes into your walk. You hadn't gotten far. It was sweltering and you had to leave straight from work, so your shoes were the least comfortable thing to walk in as you sweat.

Two motorcycles were headed your way, and to your surprise they both stopped. One was wearing a light brown leather jacket, and he pulled off his helmet immediately. He had blond hair and a kind looking smile, but you were also alone in a mysterious location with no signal.

"Hey, you alright?" You stared at them, and took a step back when he took a step toward you.

"Uh-"

"You had an appointment at the Howling Commando? Twenty minutes ago? Blue vintage Austin Mini Cooper?" The other guy had popped up his visor, but hadn't taken off the helmet yet. His blue eyes were sharp, watching you. You took another two steps back.

"Buck, lose the helmet," the blond guy admonished, "We work there, you said when you called that you were worried about the heat and the engine, so when you no-showed we thought you might have gotten stuck. I'm Steve. We talked on the phone the first time I think, and then you talked to Yelena to get the details." The other guy pulled off his helmet and you thought your heart might stop. Sure the blond, Steve, was handsome in a clean cut preppy kind of way, but this guy looked like he walked out of one of the fantasy books your read as a kid. Dark eyebrows slanted over his bright blue eyes, his scruff adding to the rugged look he was sporting. He waved, a shy smile slicing away the fear you had held entirely. It changed his face, you wanted to make it happen again.

"Bucky. We'll get you all fixed up."

-/-/-/-/-

"Belle, ya home?" You looked up from your laptop. You hadn't been able to pull yourself away from the document you were building for the new hires.

"Yeah- I- oh shit. I forgot to start dinner." You turned to find Bucky stepping through the doorway from the kitchen. His grease stained tshirt was tossed over his shoulder already, leaving all his tattoos on display. One in particular always caught your attention, the sketch of a mini cooper right over his heart.

"How many time do I gotta tell you?" He asked, dropping the shirt in the hallway before coming over to you. You stood, tilting your chin to look up at him as he wrapped one arm around your back and cradled the back of your neck with the other.

"You don't have to worry about that stuff, honey. I'll take care of dinner. Finish up your work, it'll be done in no time."

"I need a break, baby, seriously. I'll help." His eyes narrowed.

"You sure?" You nodded, turning back to hit save and taking his outstretched hand to go back into the kitchen. You chopped veggies while he marinated chicken and he told you about his day at the shop. It was a familiar routine by now, three years into your relationship, but you couldn't help but feel the guilt in your stomach again. He spent all day on his feet.

"Hey, lose the face." You looked up at him.

"What?"

"I can feel your thoughts from over here." He set down the spices, rinsing his hands and patting them dry before coming over to you and wrapping you up in his arms. He was anything but weak, and carefully lifted you onto the unoccupied part of the counter and stood between your legs, looking you dead in the eye. You blinked slowly, trying not to fall into the trap of his icy-blue silence. It was impossible.

"I just feel bad is all, you spend all day on your feet and working and then you come home and make dinner. It feels, not fair." Bucky tilted his head to the side, eyebrows up. It was a conversation you had all the time, and you knew how he felt about it. He did serious very well, even if you knew there was a smile lurking just behind it.

"You know that's not how I feel. I love taking care of you. You work so hard every day trying to change the world for the better. I go dick around with my friends all day playing with cars." You snorted.

"I'm serious! My number one and most important job is taking care of my girl. I will make you dinner every night for the rest of our lives together, if that's what it takes to prove it."

"You don't have to do-"

"Nope, you're banished from the kitchen. Go feed Alpine. Get lost." You laughed, taking his face into your hands before he could lift you back off the counter. His lips were warm and soft, and his hands wrapped tighter around your middle as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss before pulling away. You rested your forehead against his, breathing in the smell of motor oil and coffee.

"I love you, James Barnes." He gave you that sweet smile, the one that transformed him into an entirely different man.

"I love you, honey belle. Now get the fuck outta my kitchen."

-/-/-/-/-

You woke up and stretched, yawning as your rubbed your eyes and sat up. And then you became aware again that you were not in your own room and you were laying in an empty bed. You glanced around, noting the distinct lack of a tall tattooed biker who had left hickeys on your chest and had all but fucked you to sleep the night before.

In his place lay a small gray cat, it sat up when you did and surveyed you before jumping gracefully off the bed and leaving out the open door. You stood up, glancing at yourself in the mirror. You were wearing a shirt that said the Howling Commandos Garage and Bar on the front. It was well worn and soft, with little frays on the bottom and the collar. Your hair was a mess and you smoothed it out before following the cat into the rest of the apartment. Your clothes which had been strewn across the living room were neatly folded in a pile on the back of the couch, and there was a note scrawled on top.

Had to head off to fix up your baby. Coffee in the pot. Stay if you'd like. Bucky

Bucky looked wistfully down the block at his apartment building.

"What is your deal today, Barnes?" Sam asked. He was newer, and Steve had brought him in to tend bar, but also help with the books at the garage. Bucky grumbled that they didn't need new people, and Steve returned with patience that just because Bucky didn't want to make new friends, didn't mean they didn't need new staff.

"He's got a crush," Steve laughed from the other side of a pickup.

"I'll have you know I sealed that deal," Bucky shot back. There was a thunk sound and then Steve appeared over the hood, rubbing the top of his head.

"What the hell are you doing there then?" Bucky shrugged.

"She was still asleep. I left her coffee and a note." Sam snorted.

"See her never."

"Her car is literally right in front of me."

"She's gonna take it somewhere else," Sam shot back. Bucky's eyes narrowed, dropping the wrench he had on hand. He was starting towards Sam when a new voice echoed through the garage.

"I would really appreciate it if you fixed my car, not got blood on it." You strolled in the front of the garage and Bucky considered falling to his knees and begging for you to stay with him forever. You were wearing your jeans and sandals from the night before, but on top you had on his Howling Commandos shirt with the original design and logo. You were holding one of the mugs from his kitchen and had an easy smile on your face.

"I thought I'd come check on the progress on my baby. Maybe learn a thing or two." Steve smirked at Bucky and turned back to his work. Sam had suddenly made himself scarce into the office.

"Sure thing, but can't let you learn too much, you might notice some things going wrong just so you can stop by to see me." You nudged Bucky with your elbow, taking a sip of coffee as you followed him back to your car.

"I don't know, I think I could have other reasons to stop by and see you."

-/-/-/-/-

You woke up to sunlight coming in through the open curtains. Bucky was sound asleep on his stomach, face pressed into his pillow and his arm thrown over you. After a moment of relishing the cuteness of him keeping you close while he was asleep, you slipped out of his grasp and headed for the kitchen.

It was mostly clean, and you started a pot of coffee for the morning before tidying up just a little bit more. Bucky had slipped in after you fell asleep. He was working the bar when you left full of a burger and with kisses pepper to your nose promising he'd be home soon. The rest of the staff had ribbed him endlessly while saying goodnight to you.

You grumbled to yourself about having to wake Bucky's whining ass up to take you to work when you noticed something on the counter. Your car keys. Trying not to get your hopes up, you peeked out the front windows and let out a squeal when you saw your car sitting in the driveway, a comically small bow on the hood.

"Wha-Who's there?" Bucky ran out in just his boxers, fists up prepared to fight an intruder apparently, but instead got a chestful of you.

"She's done?" It took him a moment to register what who you were and what you were referring to.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, belle, she's done." You threw your arms around Bucky's shoulders, squeezing him tight.

"Thank you thank you thank you! She'll run for another three years? No problems?" Bucky held you tight, sleep already returning as he nuzzled against your neck.

"Even better. She should be alright for at least another five to ten." You pressed kisses to his face and then his hands, and kissed him goodbye for the day. Your outfit for the morning was already hanging in the bathroom and it made your morning to not have to pack extra clothes for the bike. Instead you put your coffee in a to go mug, your lunchbox in your purse, and headed for the door. The car started up with a hum and you patted the dash, turning on your favorite radio station and rolling down the windows on your way to work.

-/-/-/-/-

You sighed on your way into your apartment. Bucky said he was headed over after you left, and now you had to clean up and start on dinner. Work had been exhausting, and you had found yourself fixing other peoples' work first thing in the morning, which put you back on your own deadlines.

Still, you tossed your bag onto the black hole chair of random items in the bedroom and changed out of your work clothes into something comfy for movie night. You had bought all the ingredients for homemade pizzas over the weekend when you were ambitious about when you were going to get out of work.

"Five minutes on the couch," you muttered to yourself, "then back to work." Five minutes quickly turned into doom scrolling until Bucky knocked on your front door.

"Shit." You jumped off the couch and started pulling things out of the fridge frantically to make it look like you had already started the process. The knocking grew frantic after a minute and you rushed to the door. Bucky's eyes were wide, but he relaxed when he saw you were fine.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you." His soft smile melted your nerves a fraction, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

"You had a long day, I understand." He followed you into the kitchen, and you frowned at the array you had pulled out. Sure you had the pizza dough and sauce but also a jar of pickles, some miso, and a block of tofu.

"What were you planning on making?" Bucky asked, examining the contents of a mystery tupperware.

"Uh..." You considered coming up with a lie about cleaning your fridge, panic welling back up that he would be upset you had gotten sidetracked away from making dinner.

"I... I'm sorry, I panicked when I heard you because I hadn't started making dinner and I knew you would be hungry so I just started pulling things out of the fridge and I..." you could feel yourself beginning to ramble into a spiral.

"Woah! Woah, belle, calm down. It's okay!" Bucky came around the counter, hands on your shoulders to ground you.

"It is really okay, belle, I know you had a long day. You don't have to make me dinner. I mean it. You work long hours and clean up other people's messes all day." You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes and looked down at the logo of some motorcycle brand on Bucky's shirt.

"You just work all day at the shop and I know that can be exhausting, so I just wanted to make you food so you'll be..." you trailed off. So he would be what? Had never gotten pissed at you because dinner wasn't on the table or that you didn't get him his drink before yours. He had never thrown his empty can in your direction when you didn't get a new one for him before it was empty. Bucky called your name, pushing your chin up to meet his eyes. They were big and blue and full of concern that grew when he saw the tears in yours.

"Honey, where is this coming from? We could have ordered takeout for all I cared?"

You swallowed and took a deep breath.

"My ex, they were blue collar. Worked in construction. They didn't... they thought I should do all the housework and make dinner since I sat at a desk all day. They would get... angry when I didn't or said I was too tired or it wasn't ready when they got home or I ran out of their favorite drink and... I just want you to be happy." Bucky's frown had deepened and the concern in his blue eyes had turned to anger.

"Where are they now? Who would ever do that to you?" His head turned to see if he could spot any memory of them in the apartment. To your surprise it made you laugh to see him be so protective over something that wasn't there.

"Long gone. I moved states away to leave them. It's why I've been working so much, honestly. When I switched positions I had to do it for a cut, since at the headquarters I was making more. I don't regret it for a second though." You were looking at him now, sincere. If you never moved you wouldn't have been looking for an apartment when your car overheated and you had to go to the Howling Commando. You would have never met Bucky or found an apartment a few blocks away from the bar and him.

"I'm glad you made it here too," he said finally. He wrapped his arms around you, big arms keeping you safe and his chin on your head grounding you to him.

"I know you spend every day working super hard with people you don't really like. I know you love what you do, but I would never hold any of that against you. I spend every day working with my best friends for as long as or short as I'd like. If you never cook me dinner again, I would still be happy as long as we get to sit down and eat together." He paused, and you could feel his heart beat a little faster, a shift in his posture. For the first time:

"And I love you." Your heart leapt, the tears that you had been wiping against his tshirt flowed again.

"I love you too, Bucky."

-/-/-/-/-

You texted Bucky on your way out of work, and blessedly got into your own car with air-conditioning and seatbelts. Not that you didn't trust Bucky or that you didn't like to ride with him, but it was nice to have a seat to sit in.

You began the journey home, it feeling a little longer than it had for the last few weeks when you clung to Bucky's middle with your eyes closed. You were most of the way home when a telltale rumble of motorcycles started up behind you on the long empty road. It reminded you of the first time you rode with Bucky, down this very same road when your car broke down and he took you back to the shop with him while Steve waited with the car. He had said, after securing his extra helmet to your head, that it would be only time you ever rode without the proper shoes or pants on. You had responded cheekily, since he was hot and it didn't seem like it could hurt the speed at which your car got fixed, that he was suggesting that there would be another time. He had followed that with a quick, "I have your phone number. I find another time."

The bikes were getting closer, four of them, and to your surprise Bucky wasn't with them. Steve and Sam rode on either side of you, offering salutes. You couldn't identify who the two behind were but you could tell one of them was Yelena or Natasha. It was not a regular procession, though when they did see your distinctive car when out riding, they always did stop by for a wave. Instead of leading you home, Sam and Steve guided your car to the parking lot at the Howling Commando. The fairy lights were up for the summer and a few of the regulars were already outside enjoying the weather.

"I was going to go home first you know," you whined at Steve, tossing your blazer into the passenger seat before getting out of the car.

"I think this is more important," he said, turning you away from the bar and toward the shop. The garage doors were open, but inside was obstructed by the shadows from the sunset. When you stepped in you froze. The cars and equipment had all been cleared out and a beautiful flower arrangement was across the floor, Bucky was standing a few feet away, looking nervous as the first time he came to pick you up for dinner. He spotted you and swallowed, standing up straighter as you walked towards him.

"Bucky..." You didn't have the words to say as you joined him in the array of flowers.

"Belle. I love you, I have loved you since the minute I saw you on the side of the road. From the second you wrapped your arms around me on my bike for the first time. The first night we spent together and every night since then I have known that I would spend the rest of my life with you. I promise I will make dinner every night if that's what it takes." You grinned at the little inside joke, tears pouring down your cheeks as he got down on one knee.

"Make me the happiest idiot in the world and marry me?"

"Of course I will. I love you."

[morgana-larkin]

Hey girl, would you be able to do a request with Melissa? So yk how in that one episode where Melissa has to go to court for throwing a corn cob at Ben Simmons? Would you be able to just do some fluff on how when Melissa is in court she needs a lawyer, but since she’s a teacher, she doesn’t have any money, but knows a guy who gets a lawyer for her, which is our reader fresh outta law school. Melissa would find them cute and want to ask her out, but eventually after Melissa is declared ‘not guilty’ she decides to ask them out as a thank you.

Ok, this is crazy because when you sent the prompt, it was the day after I rewatched that episode. I honestly thought this line was crazy and I like how Jacob was not even fazed when she said it lol. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I think I got 7 Melissa prompts and one Chessy prompt, so they’re coming!

Guilty Or Not Guilty

Warnings: sexual tension, fluff, reference to future smut

Words: 2k

“Ah, all dressed up for your big dip in the shark tank today?” Jacob asks Melissa.

“What? No. I gotta go to court later for throwing a corn cob at Ben Simmons.” Melissa says to Jacob.

“Wait so, you’re not gonna make a presentation?” Jacob says, completely ignoring the fact that she might have thrown a corn cob at someone.

*lunch time*

“Vinny, I need you to find me a lawyer for later today.” Melissa says to her cousin Vinny.

“What did you do this time?” He asks her.

“None your business. I just need a lawyer, can you get me one?” She asks him and he takes a second to reply.

“I know one, she recently graduated from law school and is looking for cases to do for a small price. I can pay this one for ya since you’re my favourite cousin.” He tells her.

“Alright, thanks Vinny. I’ll make your favourite dish as a thanks.” She says then hangs up.

Later that day…

You walk out of your car an hour before your client has to plead her case. You were told to meet her outside the courthouse, all you were told was that she’s a ginger and her name is Melissa Schemmenti.

You walk near the front entrance of the courthouse and you see a ginger woman standing around on her phone with her glasses perched on her nose. She looks stunning. ‘Not the time to check her out, gotta be professional, she’s your client after all.’ You think to yourself. You walk up to her and she doesn’t see you coming as she’s too focused on her phone.

“Hi, are you Melissa?” You say as you reach her and she flinches. “Oh sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I’m your lawyer y/n y/l/n” You add.

She stares at you for a second before smiling and holding out her hand to shake and you shake her hand, it feels so soft.

“Hi, yes I’m Melissa.” She says. Melissa was surprised that her lawyer would look really cute, so much so that she forgot how to speak for a second, or that she was still holding your hand.

You look at her emerald green eyes, beautiful ginger locks and her bright smile. You then remember you’re still holding her hand so you let go and clear your throat.

“So I heard nothing about this case or why you’re here. Wanna tell me?” You ask her and you see a small blush on her cheeks.

“Well it’s for throwing a corn cob at Ben Simmons.” She says and you can’t help but giggle at that.

“For throwing a corn cob at someone?” You say, trying to hold back more laughter and she nods. “Well I must say, I did not expect that.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“Well I’m full of surprises.” She tells you with a shy smile.

You both then find a picnic table to sit at and you get to work. Melissa keeps checking you out as you work on her case. The way you’re so focused on writing down the information you need to prove her innocence, the way you bite your lip when you’re thinking. You look so adorable and she can’t help but think about asking you out.

“What?” You ask her as you notice her staring.

“Noth-nothing, just a bit nervous.” She says, covering up the fact that she was checking you out.

“Well you can be a bit nervous but I think you’re gonna win.” You tell her with a smile.

“You think so?” She asks and you nod, you then write something down and then speak up again.

“Ok, I think I have all I need to, it’s also time to go in.” You tell her and she nods.

You both walk into the courthouse and then the courtroom together and you take a seat in the audience until Melissa gets called.

“Melissa Schemmenti and Ben Simmons.” The judge calls, both you and Melissa stand up and walk where the two desks are. You and Melissa take a seat at the one on the left while Ben Simmons and his lawyer took the one on the right. “Melissa Schemmenti you are being charged with the throwing of… a corn cob at the head of Ben Simmons, guilty or not guilty?”

“Not guilty, your honour.” Melissa says confidently.

It took about 10 minutes and the fact there was no evidence that the judge ruled that Melissa was, in fact, not guilty. Melissa got excited that she won and without thinking, gave you a hug to which you were surprised by it but hugged her back after a second. The hug was nice, you won’t lie and you can feel her tits being pushed into yours and it made your mind go to places that you shouldn’t be thinking about right now. Melissa pulled away from you after a few seconds with a guilty expression on her face.

“Sorry, I um, I should have asked before I hugged you.” She tells you and you smile at her.

“It’s alright, you were excited, I get it. And to be honest, I liked the hug.” You tell her and you see a small blush on her cheeks.

You and Melissa walk out to the parking lot and it seems that she wants to walk with you to your car.

“I wanted to thank you, for taking my case on such short notice without any sort of information on what it’s about, and for winning too.” She tells you and you blush a bit.

“It’s not a problem Melissa, I enjoyed your case.” You tell her as you reach your car. You put your suitcase in your car and then you turn to look at her. “Well if anyone else says that you throw corn cobs at them then I might see you around.” You joke with her and she laughs.

“Or maybe I could see you around tonight, for dinner?” She asks and you tilt your head at her.

“Melissa, are you asking me on a date?” You ask her with a small smile.

“If I were, would that be a yes?” She cautiously asks and you nod. “Then yes, I’m asking you on a date.” She states proudly and you beam at her.

“Out of curiosity, what would you have said if I said no?” You ask her and she thinks for a second.

“That it would just be a thank you for winning the case.” She says and you chuckle. “Wanna give me your number so we can plan the date in better detail?” She adds on as she gets her phone out.

You exchange numbers and then you get in your car to go home to get ready for the date. She decided to have the date at her house as she claims she’s the best damn cook in all of south Philly, with the exception of a few family members. You get changed into a nice purple dress with black tights, do your makeup and then head off to the address she texted you.

“Wow, you look beautiful hon.” She tells you with a big smile as soon as she opens the door.

“So do you. Red and green seem to be made for you.” You tell her and she tilts her head at you. “You wore green today and it suited you, as well as this red dress.” You explain and she blushes.

“You were looking at my top today?” She questions and you nod. “Did you happen to notice that it was a low cut top too?” She questions further and you feel your cheeks heat up as you nervously nod again. “I didn’t know you had time to look at my top today when you were so busy looking at my tits.”She teases you and your cheeks are redder than her hair at this point. “You’re adorable when you blush like that.” She teases you further and you then clear your throat and look around her house, trying to avoid further embarrassment. She giggles at your attempt and then she spins you around to face her and kisses you. You kiss her back after the shock wears off and it was one of the best kisses of your life. She pulled away after a few seconds which was too short for you. She giggled when you tried to kiss her and she put her hand on your chest. “Believe me, I love kissing you too. But if we continue then I won’t want to stop and there’s food ready.” She tells you and you whine.

“You shouldn’t have kissed me then. That’s all I’ll be thinking about now.” You tell her with a pout. She leans in close to your ear.

“When you get a taste of my food then you’ll forget about it for a bit.” She leans back, winks at you and then walks to the kitchen with a smirk. You follow after her and she’s putting food on a plate for you.

“You know now that the case is over, I have one question.” You ask her and she looks at you confused.

“What’s the question?”

“Why did you throw a corn cob at him?” You ask her and she chuckles.

“I guess you saw through my lie then.” She states and you nod your head. “He was insulting Italians so of course I had to take action. I just threw at him whatever I was eating and it was a corn cob.” She explains and you start laughing.

“You’re really a wonder Melissa Schemmenti.” You tell her and she laughs as she hands a plate to you. You both walk over to the dining table and sit down to eat. You take a first bite and it’s like a flavour bomb exploded in your mouth and you let out a small moan. You look over to see Melissa smirking at you and you quirk an eyebrow at her. “What?”

“Just wondering of all the other ways I can make you moan.” She says like it’s an obvious thing. You blush at her comment but then you want to tease her back.

“Maybe you’ll find out.” You tell her with a smile and she blushes and goes to take a bite of her own food.

You rub your foot up her leg and she begins coughing as she was taking a bite. She takes a sip of her water and then when she stops, you continue to rub your foot up her leg. She looks at you and you’re smirking at her.

“You’re not the only one who knows how to tease.” You tell her as you take a bite of food. She smiles at you before she gets up, walks over to you, puts her hand at the back of your head, leans forward and kisses you. She doesn’t pull back this time, instead she deepens the kiss by sliding her tongue in your mouth. She tastes you for the first time and she’s already wanting more. You stand up, while not breaking away from the kiss, and you put your hands on her waist. You pull back after a few more seconds and she whines. “We should continue our dinner before we do anything else.” You tell her. She looks at the food then looks at you with your kiss swollen lips.

“Dinner can wait.” She says then surges forward to kiss you again. She kisses you with so much force that you walk backwards until you hit the wall and she pins you against it. “Do you want to continue?” She asks you as she pulls back. “If we continue then I’ll want to go all the way.” She tells you, asking for consent.

“I don’t want to stop kissing you.” You tell her and she smiles. She then takes your hand and brings you to her bedroom.

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[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 7,252 (oof, this one got long!) Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader Reader pronouns: largely unspecified (but Negan does refer to reader as doll and darling which could be considered more feminine terms of endearment) Warnings: language haha, frightening scenarios, references to past violence Summary: Months have now passed since Y/N began taking on Negan as a "project" and the reader suggests an even longer run outside the walls. A/N: This is part of a series! Find all the parts on the Negan Master List. Previous Part here! “It’s been months,” you said. “There hasn’t been a single time that I’ve felt unsafe, and both of you know I never let my guard down.”

Daryl was leaning up against the wall beside the door, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was serious but largely unreadable. Michonne leaned forward on the table, considering your words.

“We need to think long-term here. Are we just going to keep him locked up forever? Or is there some version of this where he gets out and either integrates as much as possible or—or goes on his way?”

Michonne sighed and shook her head. “I’m not sure any of us have the answer to that yet,” she said.

“I know. I still don’t,” you said. “I’m not sure what the future looks like for him, but I know we have to do more than just letting him out to pick tomatoes every once in a while. So, that’s what I’m doing. And with you two stuck here dealing with the wall and the kids—and the pantry and medical supplies starting to run low, well… let’s kill two birds with one stone.”

Daryl sighed and straightened up. “I ain’t gonna say I like it, but I trust ya and I’ve seen your judgment play out too many times to doubt it. If ya think it’ll be alrigh’, then—well, ‘m good with it. But ya gotta show us exactly where you’ll be and when to expect ya back in case we need to come lookin’.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll mark it all on the map. We should be able to make it out and back in a single long day. Leave early. Get back late.”

“And no weapons for him unless it’s an absolute emergency,” Michonne emphasized.

“Of course,” you agreed.

“Alright,” Michonne nodded. “When will you go?”

“Tomorrow,” you said. “I’ll get everything ready today.”

“I’ll walk ya out,” Daryl drawled, watching as you grabbed your bag and shouldered it. “Listen—” he started.

You looked over at him and smiled, already knowing you were about to get a worried Daryl Dixon lecture. “Mhm?” you prompted him.

“The hell are ya smirkin’ about?” he growled, his brow furrowing.

“Nothing,” you laughed. “Go ahead.”

“Well—if somethin’ happens out there… if it comes down to you or him…” he trailed off.

Your brow furrowed deeply now to match his. “It won’t,” you said seriously.

He shifted anxiously. “But if it does…”

“Daryl. It’s not going to,” you insisted.

He relented and nodded, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Okay. C’mere.” He pulled you into a hug and you smiled as he folded you up against him. “I just want ya to be safe, is all.” “I know. I will,” you agreed.

He nodded, pulling back. “Wish I could go with ya… I’d feel better about it.”

“I know. But it’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“You’re shitting me, right?” Negan said, his breakfast still in his hand, not a single bite taken.

You stared at him and then let out a dry laugh. “That’s not exactly the reaction I was expecting,” you said.

“Well, shit. I mean… a real scavenging trip? That’s what you’re saying?” Negan said. He ran a hand back through his hair and stood, pacing a tight circle in his cell. “Who else is going?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why? Someone specific you want me to invite? Want me to ask your old pal Gabriel? Or wait—Eugene?”

He laughed but looked vaguely shocked. “Well, I’m sorry but I’m just—a little fuckin’ surprised, doll.” You’d eased some on scolding Negan for the pet names over the last few weeks and generally just ignored them now unless it was something really egregious. (You’d nearly hit him for calling you ‘princess’ one day, so he had at least not tried that again.) He seemed to enjoy taking full advantage of you turning a deaf ear to them now. “Just you and me? Out there?” he clarified.

“You and I have already been out there alone how many times, hmm? I don’t see why this should be any different,” you said, digging around in your pack.

“Well, it’s farther. I mean, farther for you to get help if—”

You straightened up and fixed a skeptical gaze on him. “If what? If you suddenly decide to attempt to murder me? Attack me? Steal the car and leave me out there? I’ll still be armed and you won’t. Besides, I’ve been through more shit out there than—”

He laughed again. “I was just gonna say in case any number of bad fuckin’ things happens out there. And we both know that they do.”

“Yeah. You used to be one of those bad things, remember?” you shot back quickly. He sighed at your deflection and you couldn’t help but laughing. “I am having to sell this harder to you than I did to Michonne and Daryl. What is going on? What are you worried about?”

“I’m not worried! Although, it would be fuckin’ nice to have something to defend myself with in case of the dead or unexpected assholes…”

“ ‘Unexpected Assholes’?” you repeated. “What is that, your one man play?” you quipped. “Let me guess—you’ll be playing yourself.”

Negan couldn’t resist a hearty laugh at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s good. You’re fuckin’ hilarious as usual, doll.” But he looked serious again the next moment. “Anyway, about me having some way to defend myself…”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” you said lazily. “I’ll let you have, like, a stick if you want,” you smirked. He only stared back at you. “I told you that I’ll protect you! You think I’m just gonna let a walker wander up and bite you?” There was a thick silence for a moment where he just stared back at you.

“I’m not worried about one walker. I’m worried about all the random, rogue shit that can happen out there.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to trust me! Do you not want to go or what?” you pressed him, perplexed at his reaction.

He paused, drew in a deep breath, and let it out. Then that damn smirk showed back up on his face, sending his hazel eyes sparkling. “Are you asking if I want to go spend some quality time alone with you? Just the two of us? No one to interrupt… Completely at your mercy for whatever you may decide to do with me… or to me…”

You rolled your eyes, catching onto his tone immediately. “That could include killing you,” you cautioned him, eliciting a low laugh from him. You hated that the deep gravel of it gave you goosebumps. You did your best to ignore it.

“I don’t know… I’m starting to think this is just a ploy to get away with me where nobody can easily interrupt us,” Negan said. “I mean, shit. No need hide your true intentions from me,” he grinned. “I am absolutely 110% on board with that. Use me all you want, doll,” he grinned, now gripping the bars of his cell door. “God, I’d love to be fuckin’ used by you.”

You crossed your arms and fixed a stern look on him, hoping that your face wasn’t flushing bright red. You cleared your throat. “Sounds more like wishful thinking on your part. It’s a scavenging run, Negan, not a fucking romantic getaway,” you said.

“Are you sure you said that right? I think you meant romantic fucking getaway. Emphasis on the—”

“Negan! Stop! I will cancel this whole thing! Jesus Christ!”

That shit-eating grin was still on his face and he laughed again, thoroughly pleased with himself. “Alright, alright. I’m done. I think…”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “Scavenging. Run.” you repeated.

“Yeah, we’ll see, doll. We’ll see. So, where are we going exactly?”

You forged ahead, ignoring his last comments in favor of moving on. “There are some old houses and other structures we’ve only ever done a cursory search of. Probably not going to make a huge score but there’s always something left behind, something hidden. But who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky,” you said.

“Fuck me, I’d love to get lucky…” he laughed again.

“Negan!” you exclaimed again.

“Alright! I’m sorry,” he chuckled.

“So, are you in?” you asked, slightly exasperated.

The two of you were separated by only the iron bars and a small buffer of space, hardly a foot. He was still smiling at you and you hated that the thought that he was handsome flickered through your mind. It wasn’t the first time you’d thought it—but the thought always surprised you, like it came from somewhere outside of yourself, not by your conjuration alone. “Fuck yes, I’m in,” he answered, interrupting your thoughts.

“You promise to listen to everything I say? If I tell you to run, if I tell you to hide—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I promise,” he said, smiling. “If I don’t, you’ll shoot me in the fuckin’ knee or some shit. Can we skip the pep talk?”

You gave him a stern look but unlocked his cell and tossed him the spare pack you’d brought. You dug into your own bag and handed him some supplies, including some outerwear. He tucked them into his bag and looked up at you expectantly. “Where to, warden?”

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t help the tiniest smirk. “Car is right outside. Let’s get going. The sun is starting to come up and it could be a long day.”

“Great. Can I drive?” he quipped, shouldering his bag. You only shot him a look that made him laugh again, but he saw the slight curve at the corners of your mouth.

The drive to the crumbling ruins of the neighborhood was slow, but uneventful. The sun was up and filtering through the trees overhead as you and Negan climbed out and started toward the buildings. You were quiet, focused, and Negan couldn’t help admiring your efficiency and care as you went about your mission.

The two of you stopped at the edge of the crumbling street, concealed in some taller brush. The street was overgrown with weeds and lined with dilapidated houses. It was almost eerily quiet.

“Alright,” you breathed quietly. “We’ll go building by building, down one side and back up the other. Pay attention to signs of walkers or people,” you said softly, gripping the straps of your pack. “Follow my lead and stay close.”

“You got it,” Negan replied, slipping his hands into his pockets as he followed alongside you toward the first house. “I gotta say, it is really uncomfortable being out here without a damn weapon. More so here than in the woods,” he commented, his eyes shifting around to study the other buildings, scrutinizing for a sign of movement. “I feel like I’m naked,” he said.

“I guarantee—” You paused to tap on the wall of the house the two of you were standing beside, listening for anything inside. “You’re not. If you were naked, I would not be this fuckin’ calm, Negan,” you said, half-distracted.

He chuckled and licked his bottom lip, smirking.

“What?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t think that sounded how you meant it to sound,” he laughed.

Your cheeks flushed. “Oh, shut up. You know what I meant!”

“Your brain is saying one thing but your lips are sayin’ another, darlin’,” he teased you.

You rolled your eyes and pulled the front door open, stepping cautiously inside. The smell was of mildew and stagnant air as you stepped inside. A heavy layer of dust and dirt coated everything; overturned furniture, books standing or tipped over on shelves, a stately chair still positioned in front of the fireplace. Somewhere deeper in the house, water was dripping. You had your gun out and started clearing the lower floors. Negan ghosted behind you.

You made for the staircase to check the upstairs when there was a soft thump overhead. Your eyes and Negan’s went to the ceiling.

“Alright… maybe someone is home after all,” he commented, giving you a concerned look.

“It’s gotta be a walker,” you said. “Maybe an animal.” You proceeded cautiously toward the staircase.

“Hey,” Negan said softly. “Be careful.”

You turned and looked at him for a long moment before you started up the stairs. He seemed genuinely on edge, worried. He stayed right on your heels as you climbed the steps, the muscle in his jaw tensed as his teeth clenched together.

You cleared two bedrooms and finally came to a closed door at the end of the hall. As the floor creaked under your boots, there was the sound of more movement behind the door. You reached for the door knob, gun ready in your other hand. You took a deep breath and quickly turned it shoving the door open and aiming the muzzle of your pistol inside.

An opossum let out an angry hiss and then scrambled up and out of a broken window. It had been rooting around in some debris on the floor. A huge sigh of relief escaped you and Negan watched your shoulders sag. You laughed a little as you turned to look back at Negan. He gave you a relieved look.

“I gotta be honest,” he said. “I fuckin’ hate this shit. I feel completely helpless without something to use if something bad happens. What am I supposed to do if you need help?”

You gave him a somewhat sympathetic look, thinking about how it would feel to be in his place—the unknown behind every locked door with no knife, no gun… completely vulnerable and reliant on someone who was essentially his jailor. “Well,” you said. “I have a feeling if something really did go wrong, you’d figure something out.”

He considered your words for a moment. “Yeah. I hope so.” He thought about what he would do. What if they ran into some bad men? Bad people? What would he really do if you were in danger? He didn’t have to think hard to know the answer. Anything. He’d do anything he needed to. The thought seemed to dig deep into the center of his chest and sit there, heavy. “So, now what? House is clear.”

You holstered your gun again. “Now, we search. See if there’s anything left. A lot of people hid things, right after. There’s always something left behind. You take the upstairs. I’ll go through the downstairs.”

Negan nodded his agreement and turned back to the trashed bathroom, the sound of your steps fading away down the staircase. He searched every room, every cabinet, every closet, under beds, under loose floorboards, but came away with nothing of interest except for half a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. He headed downstairs where he could hear you rummaging around in the living room. “Hey,” he greeted you, stepping over the threshold. You were standing completely frozen now at the shelves, looking down at something. “Y/N?” he said again. You still didn’t seem to have heard him. He wandered closer. “Find something?”

You startled a little and turned to look at him, a picture frame in your hand. “Oh. No, not really. You?”

“Half a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I stuck it in my pack.” He nodded toward the frame. “What’s that?”

You looked down at it again. “It’s nothing. It’s just this—this family portrait. I wonder if they lived here—” you said thoughtfully. Your voice seemed to drift away a little. “Or what happened to them, you know? Did they make it? Were they ever safe again after the outbreak?”

Negan looked on with a thoughtful expression, his dark brows furrowed over his eyes. He nodded and moved closer to get a better view of the photo behind the cracked glass. He smiled at it, chuckling a little. “Hmm. Mom, Dad, and three kids. A perfect nuclear family,” he said.

“Looks like the 90s,” you laughed. “Check out the clothes.”

“Yeah, they probably went down to JCPenney to take advantage of the fancy photography studio,” Negan remarked. “Dad looks like an accountant, doesn’t he?”

“Mmm, I’m getting more of a bank manager vibe. Mom probably stayed at home when the kids were little and then goes back to work as a teacher once the youngest is in kindergarten,” you replied, now smiling a little too.

Negan ran a hand back through his hair thoughtfully and cocked his head. “You know—I was a teacher,” he said suddenly. “I’ve never really told anyone that since things went to shit. Kind of lessens the mystique,” he laughed dryly.

Your eyes snapped over to his face, one of your eyebrows arching gracefully with the question on your face. He laughed again. “Yeah, I know… hard to believe, right? How could such an asshole be a teacher?” he said.

A slight wince flickered across your face for a brief second at his words, as if you didn’t like the way he’d talked about himself. But that couldn’t be right… “What did you teach?”

“I was a high school P.E. teacher,” he said. “Coached some of the school teams too. Basketball. Football.”

“P.E.?” you repeated. “And you’re not even going to make a ‘physical education’ joke?” you teased him. “Wow. Are you feeling okay?”

He laughed lightly. “You beat me to it,” he said. He glanced back at the picture and sighed. “Should we get going? Lots of buildings to search,” he said.

You nodded and stared down at the picture for another moment.

“What’re you doing?” Negan asked, watching you take the back off the picture frame. You fumbled with the backing and then removed the family photo from the damaged frame.

“I just—feel like someone should remember them, you know?”

Negan’s gaze was fixed on you, flickering over your face. There was something so soft in it at that moment that you felt slightly unbalanced. You distracted yourself by bending to slip the photo into your pack. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said gently.

You deflected, laughing as you shouldered your pack again. “Oh, you’ve got no idea,” you said sarcastically, again ignoring the heat in your face. “Come on.”

The two of you went on, searching each home and several stores, working your way down the block and partway up the next. You’d managed some good finds, including a hidden cellar that clearly had belonged to a survivalist type (who had apparently “opted out” and his corpse still watched over the hidden entrance). You’d have to make a few trips to the car in order to get all the supplies and gear back, or otherwise figure out a way to get the car in through the overgrown side road. The two of you piled the finds in a safe place in one of the rooms on the main floor, stacking Rubbermaid tubs full of helpful items in neat piles.

“Fuck me,” Negan sighed, setting the last one on top. “Well, when you’re right, you’re fuckin’ right, doll. There’s always somethin’ left behind.”

You wiped at the sweat near your hairline. “Yeah,” you sighed. “Not bad.” You had a satisfied smile on your face. It felt good to do something concrete that would help people back home. You glanced out the window, assessing the light outside. It’d taken quite some time to get things moved up from the cellar and you wondered if you should keep searching the rest of the houses or call it a day. “I think it’s starting to get late,” you said, remarking mainly on the way the light already seemed like it was fading.

“Mmm,” Negan hummed, going to the front bay window and looking out. His eyes had been searching the street all day, vigilant, as if waiting for some psychos to suddenly burst out of one of the houses. But the only signs of inhabitation or squatting you’d found were clearly from long before, now covered in dust and debris or otherwise moldering in damp corners or on top of filthy mattresses. Now, as you were busy drinking from your canteen, Negan’s shifting suddenly stopped. “Hey, doll—I’m no meteorologist, but those clouds look like bad fuckin’ news.” It had been overcast all day, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that this was something else.

You capped your canteen and went to the front door, your brow now furrowed heavily to match his. You pulled the door open and peered at the sky. Ominous didn’t even begin to cover it. There was not a sniff of wind at the moment and the air seemed to hum with electricity. Negan appeared next to you in the doorway, squinting at the low and heavy sky.

“I’m pretty sure when the sky turns fuckin’ green, there’s some bad shit coming,” he said. He glanced over at you.

“Shit,” you swore under your breath. “Yeah. Yeah, green sky is… tornado weather. Fuck,” you muttered, glancing back at the pile of supplies.

“What do you want to do?” Negan asked.

You sighed, pushing a hand back through your hair. “Even if we head back to the car now, we probably can’t outrun that… the old highway is FUBAR in some places. It’s not like we can drive 60 mph all the way back to Alexandria. And that would mean leaving all these supplies here.” As if on cue, the complete stillness in the air broke as a rushing wind approached like a tidal wave, creaking and cracking in the trees and swirling dust and dried leaves across the open ground until it reached the two of you standing on the porch. Your hair lifted and blew back from your face.

“I’ll ask you again,” Negan said, speaking louder now over the roar of the wind, “what do you want to do?”

You hesitated, glancing from him back to the quickly approaching menacing clouds. The little light left was fading fast. “Fuck,” you muttered again. “I—I think we’re better off weathering it here than in a car out there,” you said.

“I definitely agree with that,” Negan said.

“Once the storm clears, maybe then we can try to get the car in here and load up the supplies and get home. We’ll be delayed a bit longer than expected but—I think it’s the best move. Hopefully, we’re just stuck a couple more hours.”

Negan nodded. “Alright. Where are we holing up? Because this shit is about to kick the fuck off,” he said, surveying the street again.

“Here is as good a place as any,” you said. “There’s a basement and almost all the windows are intact or boarded up. Come on. Let’s get inside.”

Negan followed you in and shut the door on the wind. Your eyes were already on him when he turned around again. He was trying to decode your expression but it was largely unreadable. He unshouldered his pack and set it on the floor, taking a seat on the stairs across from where you were now leaning up against the wall. The ambient light from outside was quickly waning and before long you could hear raindrops start to pound the roof. They increased in size and then seemed to be blowing across the roof in waves of water.

You could hear the huge cottonwood trees creaking and cracking in the wind. You tried to peer out through the boarded slats over the window to see if they were dropping branches but it was too dark. Behind you, Negan pulled out a flashlight from his pack and clicked it on. It had grown extremely dark with the heavy storm clouds gathering and unleashing the torrents of rain. You were still standing right by the window, looking out, when he spoke again.

“Hey, maybe we should move away from the windows, doll,” Negan said, worried. He didn’t like how close you were standing to all that glass, even if it was mostly boarded over. His voice was deep and resonant in the space between you with just the raging background noise outside.

“Yeah. Maybe,” you said. You bent to grab your pack when you suddenly heard a loud thud against the side of the house. You straightened up, your eyes widening. Negan had heard it too, his eyes were narrowed, ears strained, listening. It was difficult to hear anything over the storm.

“What was that?” you asked, your voice breathy. “Some debris blowing against the house?” you asked.

Negan shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, standing from his place on the steps and going to the doorway of the room the sound had seemed to come from. The roaring storm seemed to reach new extremes. The wind sounded like a train bearing down on the little dilapidated structure the two of you were sheltering in. Rain and hail lashed the siding and the roof. There was another thud from outside, this time on the window.

“There. Again,” you said, anxiously pacing toward Negan to stare into the room. His flashlight was still on. Another thud, and then another. You squinted, trying to distinguish anything through the boarded windows but it was too dark. Then, a flash of lightning shot the sky outside with blinding white and you couldn’t help the soft gasp that left you at what it illuminated.

“What?” Negan asked urgently.

You couldn’t speak. You just reached for the flashlight. Negan looked down as your hand landed on top of his. He could feel you trembling slightly and for a moment he was so shocked by your touch that he didn’t understand what you were doing. With your gentle grip, you directed the yellow beam of the light slowly to the window. As it came to rest between two of the boards and shone through the glass, Negan registered that there were walkers clawing to get in, rotting faces pressed to the glass, bloody fingertips, snapping teeth. Dozens. “Ho-ly fuck!” he exclaimed, jerking the flashlight off the window and quickly shutting it off. You and Negan stood in the dark for a moment, neither of you moving, now keenly aware of the pounding noise and dull thuds on the exterior of the house, cutting through the wind and rain. Were you imagining it or was the pounding increasing, getting louder? More frequent? Negan could hear your breath beside him in the dark. “Well, that shit was straight out of a fuckin’ horror movie,” he remarked in a low voice.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. “Where the fuck did they come from? It sounds like we’re surrounded.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know. Seems like they rolled in with the storm.”

“Maybe they can feel the barometric pressure changes or something. It’s almost like a migration,” you commented, feeling your heart rate and breathing finally start to slow down after the shock of discovering the herd.

Negan chuckled beside you and you heard him shift. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Eugene?”

You let out a dry laugh. “Okay… so, now we just have the storm of the century and a fucking herd to deal with. Great. Okay… let’s think…”

Negan finally clicked his flashlight on again but kept it pointed at the floor. “This place seems sturdy but maybe we should barricade ourselves better.”

You glanced toward the basement where you’d discovered the hidden cellar. Your eyes next drifted toward the stack of supplies. “Basement is pretty much ready to barricade thanks to that dead survivalist guy, but if they do break in we could be trapped down there for fuck-knows how long.”

“Not sure we have any better options. We don’t want to be upstairs either. We’re sure as shit not going out on the roof in this if they get in and if there is a fucking tornado and we're on the top floor—” Negan broke off.

“Yeah,” you agreed, nodding. You dug into your own pack and pulled out a headlamp, quickly turning it on dimly. “Grab some of these. They have food and medical supplies, some other gear and odds and ends,” you said, grabbing one of the many Rubbermaid containers and heading toward the stairs down to the basement.

“Man, I’m so glad we carried all this shit up here,” Negan joked, picking up a stack of two big containers.

“Sorry. Next time I’ll consult my crystal ball,” you quipped, but right then there was the sound of shattering glass and the storm and the growling got slightly louder. One of the windows in the next room had broken. Negan could see hands and fingers reaching in around the boards.

“Let’s go. Downstairs,” he urged you, his voice intense and thick with concern.

You started down, but shot back at him over your shoulder. “Aren’t I the one in charge here?”

“I don’t see you disagreeing with that idea,” Negan said, setting his containers down beside yours. “Stay here. I’ll go grab a couple more boxes,” he said.

“Whoa. Me stay here? What is this? You don’t even have a weapon!” you argued.

He gave you an exasperated look. “Fine. Then by all means, come with me, darlin’!” He turned and rushed back up the stairs and you had to hurry after him, one hand on your knife in its sheath.

“Negan,” you snapped at him in a low voice as you rounded the doorway back onto the main floor. But he wasn’t by the supplies. You glanced around and could see the dim glow of his light in the next room, the one where the walkers had broken a window. Rain and the occasional hailstone were puddling under the window among the shards of glass. “What the fuck?” You nearly collided with each other when he turned around and started back toward the door. “What are you doing?! Put that down!” you growled.

He had an iron fireplace poker in his hand. That’s what he’d been doing in this room, grabbing it from the set of fireplace tools. “Don’t you think this qualifies as kind of a capital “E” emergency?” he argued.

You stared at him, intense, your chest heaving, and to your annoyance, he smiled at you.

“Goddamn. You look fuckin’ hot as shit when you’re pissed off! I mean, you’re always hot but ho-ly shit! I'm scared and suddenly all tingly downtown!”

Your hand went purposefully to your knife again and you stared him down. “I said. Put it. The fuck. Down.”

“Doll, just hear me out—”

“Negan.”

Another crack and the sound of shattering glass behind him and you saw more arms reaching through between the boards of another window. “Okay, we don’t have time for this right now. You can stab me or whatever downstairs,” he said. He breezed past you and grabbed a couple more boxes of supplies. You had no choice but to begrudgingly follow after him.

He turned, straightening up as he heard your boots hitting the bottom steps, and he opened his mouth to say something, but you were already on him before he could get even a syllable out.

You kicked him hard on the inside of one of his thighs and he dropped sideways onto his knee. The poker dropped from his hand and rang out on the cement floor. You kicked it away and it slid into the far wall with a harsh scraping sound. Your knife was unsheathed and pointed at the base of his throat before he knew what was happening. To your amazement, once he recovered from his pained grimaces, he fucking smiled again.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?” he asked in a low, gruff voice.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me. When I brought you out here, you said you would listen to every fucking thing I told you to do. This is your one single second chance. Next time you fuck up, it’ll be my knife going into your thigh instead of my boot. Got it?”

He gulped, still on one knee at the point of your knife and still, to your annoyance, vaguely smiling. “Oh, I got it,” he responded, his eyebrows lifting.

“Good,” you said, backing off and letting him stand up. “Now, go pick up the fucking poker. I’m gonna lock up the door…”

“Wait‚ what?” Negan laughed, still rubbing at his leg where you’d kicked him. “After all that, you’re letting me have it?”

“Yes,” you said. “This does roughly qualify as an emergency. Or at least, the border of one. But those kinds of decisions? They’re not yours to make, Negan. You’re not the one in charge here.”

He looked both stunned and amused. “That is becoming more and more clear every fuckin’ day,” he said softly, looking at you with some expression you couldn’t completely discern.

You gave him a perplexed look and then headed up the stairs to seal up the door. There were heavy brackets on the back of the reinforced door (thank you, dead survivalist man) and you spotted a thick board leaning up against the railing. Once you’d closed and locked it, you heaved up the heavy wooden slat and dropped it into place in the brackets, adding extra security in case the walkers did get inside and try to push through. As you removed your hand hastily to head back downstairs, a jagged corner on one of the metal brackets sliced into your palm. You jerked it back and stared as a long crimson gash began to leak fat drops of blood onto the steps below you. You pulled in a hiss of breath through your teeth. “Great,” you sighed, cradling it in the other hand and trotting back down. Overhead, you could hear the storm still raging, but as a low hum now.

Negan stood up from his seat on one of the containers of supplies as soon as he saw you. A concerning amount of shockingly red blood was dripping off your hand and onto the floor. “What happened?” he asked, moving closer as you attempted to dig into your pack with your other hand, blood now running down your forearm. “Jesus, let me help you!” He grabbed your pack away and dug around inside until he found a small kit with spare bits of cloth for bandaging, some gauze pads, and a few other assorted odds and ends for first aid. “Wait, I’ve got that alcohol in my pack. We should clean it up first.”

“It’ll be fine,” you argued, pulling off your headlamp and watching as Negan clicked on a lantern he’d found in one of the boxes.

“Would you let me help you with this at least? Can I? Please? I’m asking permission now,” he joked, shooting you a goading expression.

You cocked your head at him and tried to look annoyed, but you conceded, taking a seat on a plastic container across from him.

Negan dug out the alcohol and poured a generous amount out onto your palm. You gritted your teeth together at the burn and winced. “Sorry,” he said, pressing a gauze pad down over it, holding it gently on his own hand now. “But better than an infection, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, feeling strangely on edge with your hand in his.

Negan used some of the long, clean strips of cloth to bandage it up and hold the gauze in place, tying it securely but gently before relinquishing his hold on you. “Should have the doc take a look at that when we get back,” he said. “Pretty deep. Might need some stitches on that one.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” you said, finally sighing as you suddenly realized how tired you were. Now that you felt more secure and safe, a strange thing with Negan sitting a mere foot away from you with no dividing bars between, the adrenaline had run out. Exhaustion was starting to set in. You took stock of the space. Your eyes wandered from the door into the hidden cellar where you’d found most of the supplies, back to the corpse of the survivalist in the far corner, over to the boxes next to Negan.

He was putting the first aid stuff back into your pack when his fingers nudged something and he paused; a thick stack of glossy photos. He pulled them out, curious. On top was the first one, the one in the very first house that the two of you had talked about, but there were more along with it now—many more. He flipped through a couple until you noticed and shifted where you were sitting. His hazel eyes lifted up to your face. “These are all from today?” he asked.

You nodded and tried to clear the sudden lump in your throat.

“You kept them? All of them?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He sighed, shaking his head vaguely, and thumbed through more; families on vacations, some guy holding a big fish, a young couple smiling in front of the Statue of Liberty, babies and kids and dogs and cats, an elderly couple posing in front of a studio background.

Your voice suddenly cut into him. “Did you ever stop to think that every person you put under your bat, they probably had photos like this? Were in photos like this?” you said suddenly. A particularly loud rumble of thunder boomed and rolled, as if on cue. Your eyes, clear and steady and striking even in the low glow of the lantern, felt like they were seeing straight into his core.

He frowned. The lines on his face seemed to become more pronounced, and he almost cringed. “No,” he answered honestly, the gravel in his voice heavy and gritty. “I didn’t think about it at all, most of the time. I think that was a lot of what I was doing. Not thinking. I know that's a shit fuckin' excuse. It's not an excuse... but I didn’t—want to think about the hard stuff.”

You were curious, interested, and felt that same vulnerability he seemed to be giving you more and more rolling off him in waves. “Like what?”

He gave you a sad smile. You could hear the wind whistling above you and the pounding of the rain. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

But now you were the one to back away, ducking your head, avoiding his eyes. Negan saw that there was hurt there, deep hurt. “I don’t think we’re quite there yet,” you murmured, fiddling with the bandage on your palm. “I mean, I’m not…”

“Hey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” Negan replied, “you don’t owe me a damn thing. But can I tell you somethin’, doll?” He hesitated for a moment. “I—I like you. You kicked the shit out of me and held a knife to my throat about ten minutes ago and I still really like you. Genuinely. As a person, as a badass, as a—”

“Negan—” you interrupted him.

“If I had to be trapped in a basement with a corpse, a tornado and herd outside, I can’t think of another person I’d rather be stuck with,” he said.

“Negan—” you tried again.

“No, listen to me. I’m trying to tell you—”

“You don’t like me, okay? You just feel that way because I’m the only person who really talks to you, who spends time with you, who brings you your meals, and looks after some fraction of your well-being. It’s like—it’s like trauma bonding, okay? That’s all it is.”

“No. It’s not just that. See Gabe was doin’ all that same shit and I still didn’t fuckin’ like him… I mean, not as much as I like you.”

As usual, when what you were feeling was becoming overwhelming, too many thoughts, too many emotions, you deflected with humor. “I’m cuter than Gabriel.”

Negan laughed and this time the sound was warm and almost comforting. “Yeah. No argument there…”

You allowed yourself a half-smile and then sighed, rubbing your hands over your face. “Fuck, I’m tired. What a long fucking day…”

“There are those sleeping bags in one of these boxes I think,” Negan said, starting to pull at the lids.

You laughed. “I can’t sleep,” you said.

“Why not?”

“Besides the insane storm outside and the horde? Uhh… I don’t know, you?” you offered, your tone a little sardonic.

But Negan’s face was perfectly serious. “The storm and the horde—can’t do shit about those companions and I agree that they are crappy house guests, but they’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere soon from what I can hear. That’s not changing whether you’re asleep or awake. As for me—” he tilted his head and gave you an appraising look, “I do not want to hurt you. And I won’t. And I’m not running away with the dickhole party outside so, you may as well catch some shut-eye. I’ll keep watch.”

You considered him for a long moment but finally shook your head. “No. No, I can’t sleep now…”

Negan sighed and rested the fireplace poker across his knees. “Well, then I’d say it’s going to be a long night… Got any ideas about how to pass the time?”

The mischievous sparkle came back into his eyes and you shot him a stern look that was apparently not enough of a deterrent. “Don’t—”

“We still do have those sleeping bags. I can think of some activities for a makeshift bed that don’t involve actual sleep.”

“Negan, there’s literally a corpse in the corner and a horde outside and that’s where your mind goes?”

He laughed. “Can you blame me? I’ve been in jail for, how long now? Five, six years? And trust me, Gabey Baby wasn’t giving me any action.” He paused at the look on your face, laughing again. “Come on, doll. I’m just kidding. Though it would help pass the time, you deserve far better than a sleeping bag on a dirty basement floor.”

“With a dead guy watching,” you added.

“With a dead guy watching,” he repeated, scratching absently at the stubble on his face. “That is pretty fuckin’ metal though,” he smirked.

“Negan, saying that I deserve better than that is really saying nothing. Anyone deserves better than that,” you sighed, standing up and pacing. “So yeah. I’d say it’s going to be a long night.”

[generalsmemories]

HELLOOO FRIEND :DD I just wanted to say that i really like your stories :33 So, can i request a Jing Yuan x reader where they meet in the past? Like Jing Yuan just accidenly bummed into Reader while walking/shopping?

Sorry if it doesn't make sense Also can i be a Hachimi Anon?

A voice unheard

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: If you're given the chance to meet someone you thought you wouldn't meet again, what would you tell them?

✧ contents: fluff, hurt/comfort, sort of an open ending, idk what to even call their relationship, almost lovers to strangers?? mentions of other characters, namely: trailblazer (gn) and herta | word count: 2.3k (i don't know how.)

✧ a/n: i do admit i pondered a bit on this. it may not be what you had hoped but i hope it was still to your liking! also you can of course be hachimi anon so welcome welcome! also this idea popped up after listening to jjk's season 2 opening "ao no sumika" just as a lil fun fact if ya want some more suffering

✧ note: this drabble is mostly written through Jing Yuan's pov, so the sentences written in italics are jing yuan's thoughts!

"Do you have any regrets, general?" Jing Yuan blinked in surprise, the usual smile he sports on his lips slipping a tiny bit before directing his gaze down towards the trailblazer who curiously looked up at him, patiently waiting for an answer, "Why the sudden interest?" he asks instead.

He doesn't get an answer immediately, but he can tell that the trailblazer before him is witholding some information with how their eyes dart back and forth instead of facing him directly. When they peek once again over to Jing Yuan and sees that he's still staring down at them, they let out a sigh before looking ahead once again, "There's this one member of the Genius Society..." they start. which makes Jing Yuan more confused than before.

"... Do I assume that this member of the Genius Society wants to use me as some sort of guinea pig?" he asks outright, the trailblazer once again losing any ounce of confidence they had just gathered to say that one sentence, turning around while scrambling for words, "I did offer that I could do it again! I mean I already do her Simulated Universe testing, but when I offered she just stared at me with such a dead look! And then she told me I would have nothing to give her because I don't have enough memories-"

Oh, so that's what it's about.

The proposal seemed intriguing enough, "Why not? It would make for quite an enjoyable day, seeing that there's not a lot to do today. What do you need to know? I would have to make you aware I'm not able to leave the Luofu in it's entirety, so making the trip to this members abode would not be feasible at this time," Jing Yuan huffs out with a laugh, the trailblazer merely shaking their head, "No, she gave me one of her puppets to bring with me on the express if she ever wanted to do some testing."

"... Gave you one of her puppets?"

"It's a long story, general. But she is already waiting for you by the express, if you would have the time to make the trip to Cloudford for a few hours at most?"

Which is how Jing Yuan finds himself strapped to a bunch of wires and holding a peculiar looking helmet with even more wires attatched on the outside. Glancing towards the side, he can see a smaller person beside the trailblazer, her obvious ball-joints fully on display - he assumes that this person was the rather... "Eccentric" Genius Society member the trailblazer was referring to.

"... So you're the general of the Luofu, I had assumed you would be far older appearance wise," Jing Yuan merely gives her a cheeky grin and a tilt of his head, "Anyway, I wanted to see if I could perfectly replicate a certain memory that's buried deep down within your brain with just a few important keypoints from the recipient within the Simulated Universe. Of course we could've had a broader scope if the trailblazer had just dragged you to my space station, but alas," she says, gesturing for Jing Yuan to put on the helmet before nodding towards the bed, "We're only limited to one particular strong memory. So general, what's your biggest regret?"

"Ms. Herta, I would have a lot of memories being that I've lived for this long, no?"

"Which is why I'm telling you to think of one of your biggest ones, every human has tons of regrets - you just happen to have way more than the average which makes you a perfect candidate."

His attempt on making a lighthearted joke was quickly shot down. However now that he's being forced to think over all the people he's had to let go of during his life, he finds himself in quite a pickle.

But somehow, there's still one foggy memory that yet seems so clear to him.

"... There's one individual who I would want to talk to again. If I remember correctly, the day I met them again after centuries apart was nothing more than half a day at most. But I wasn't aware that meeting would also be the last day," he starts, about to continue before Herta raises her hand to stop him.

"That's plenty already. I'm now going to transfer your consciousness to small pocket reality where that exact memory happened. You just do whatever you want once you're in there - any data is data after all."

The artifical sun seems somehow brighter than it usually is when Jing Yuan opens his eyes again. When he finally gathers himself and starts to look around he realizes that he finds himself at Starwatcher Avenue overlooking the street from a higher spot - the familiar yells of street vendors and laughter of passing families or merchants clear in his ears.

Everything seemed so real that it was quite honestly terrifying.

The people greeting him with a smile or a bow when he descended down towards the street, the Cloud Knight giving him a salute and even to the finches landing on his shoulder or head.

If he hadn't known any better, he would've genuinely thought that he was for once experiencing quite a pleasant dream where the Luofu wasn't dealing with the problem of a stellaron.

"Does the newly appointed general really have time to laze around the Avenue like this?" he immediately stiffens up upon hearing that voice. A voice he was sure he had already forgotten what truly sounded like , but yet when he heard it again he knew he would never be able to forget such a lovely voice.

If he didn't knew any better, he would've thought that fate was toying with him by giving him such a nice start only to crush him completely.

"... Jing Yuan?" you call out once again, a bit more nervously since the general before you didn't even turn around to address you.

Ah, if I remember correctly I did immediately turn around when they first called out.

So he takes a deep breath, holds it in for a few seconds before he lets it out and turns around. And the moment he does he's awestruck.

How in the world was Ms. Herta able to recreate your whole appearance to such a degree? Granted she probably took the little information he had provided and done something, but to be able to fabricate your apperance, behaviour and manner of speech in such a short time?

Jing Yuan doesn't know what he should be feeling.

"I thought a busy ranger like yourselves would be far too occupied to take the time to talk to a general, but here you are as well," he jokes back, hoping that you can't tell that his smile is a bit more wobbly than usual.

He forgot how captivating you looked back then.

"Please, I have time to sit down and chat with an old friend, don't I?" you joke, gesturing him closer to you as you sat down at one of the many cafés the Avenue has to offer, "And I bet you also have time seeing that you took upon the offer to sit down and have a few drinks," you added on with a gleeful smile.

He also forgot how easy it was for you to make him feel at ease - even after centuries apart.

[And exactly what part of this memory is your biggest regret, general? It seems like you're having the time of your life here.]

A sudden textbox appearing right before his eyes made Jing Yuan's eyes widen, the general blinking owlishly at it in amazement. Your own eyebrows raise at his rather surprised face, tilting your head with a frown, "You're acting unusually weird today, is everything alright?"

"Oh, yes. I might've had too much work lately for a proper nap," he lies effortlessely - a trait he found that he would habitually do centuries later.

[Oh, don't worry, you can just answer. I'll just make them forget that you answer me the moment you do.]

Jing Yuan sighs, "I mentioned that this would be the last time I would meet them, right? They're a part of the galaxy rangers. We've drifted apart when I got appointed general and they found a chance to join shortly after. If I remember, this would be the first time and last time in over a decade we meet again."

[... Ahh, I see now.]

He's sure that Herta understood what that meant, being that she was part of the same society as the alleged perpretator.

So Jing Yuan decides to omit the details on how much closer the two of you actually were. The night late banters while overlooking the same avenue you were currently seated in, the countless sparring matches that always "coincidentally" ended with either one of you on top of the other in a fit of laughter (Ignoring the fact that his arms are 90% of the time wrapped around you in a vice grip during these moments).

He excludes the joyous moments you had spent with him and his other close friends. How your fingers twirled around his longer strands and bringing them to your lips with a smile, or when you lightly squeezed back when he entertwined your hands together when the two of you decided to slip out of a rather large gathering after a succesful expedition.

He omits the fact that you're both currently wearing (and in his case still wearing till this day) the accessories the two of you had previously gifted each other. He can faintly see the necklace you have tucked beneath your shirt, and he's aware that your gaze is on the tassel he has attatched to one of his belts.

It was the last time he would see you after all. And yet, even with this knowledge he has now - he still finds himself doing the same mistake he did all those centuries ago.

He's still quiet. He's still dead silent even when he knows what kind of fate awaits you when you rise up from that chair before him and continue your initial plan for the day.

You let out a quiet laugh, perhaps mistaking his quietness as awkwardness as you start to stand up in your chair, "I can't take more of the generals' time with my selfish request, so I should probably go and gather what I was originally supposed to get," you inform whilst rising from your chair. Meanwhile Jing Yuan was rooted in his spot, looking down at his teacup without answering you. He's aware that your gaze is on him.

And yet he doesn't dare to look up to make eye contact, just like back then when this was all not a simulation. Instead choosing to swivel the contens inside the cup he was gripping.

He pauses in his movements, blinking as realization slowly dawns down on him.

That's right, this is a simulation. What has happened has already happened, I can't change that.

"Ms. Herta. If I were to do something else than what I had originally done, how much of the response back would be genuine?" he whispers lowly, he can tell that you're starting to move away.

"... Well, it was nice meeting you again, Jing Yuan."

[90%. This is all a code, yes. But I can assure you that whatever response they give you now would mimic exactly what they would've initially responded happened back then if were you to say what you're about to say instead.]

Jing Yuan didn't know he could add more to this regret than what had already transpired. But there it was, a new regret on this memory served to him on a silver platter.

"... Wait, [Name]," he calls out as he gets up from the chair, the screech it makes against the pavement being loud enough for you to turn around to face him with wide eyes.

And he's stunned. In the past, he had stayed rooted in his place and thus not even seen your back as you walked away from him. He knew your voice was a bit wobbly back then, but now he's properly staring at you and taking in more of your appearance. Your reddened eyes and slightly agape mouth, slightly swollen from how you most likely bit them to reduce any noise.

He finds himself suddenly unable to let his voice out.

"... If we were to not meet again at all after this," he finally utters after a while, trying his best to ignore the urge to get closer to you. Instead he sucks in a deep breath before giving you the same easy-going smile he's gotten used to wearing at all times. The starting sentence makes you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, turning your body fully to properly face him while awaiting his next words, "... What would you do?" he asks in the end, staring as your eyes go from a widened state to gazing at him softly.

"I would tell that I loved you," you answer immediately.

Now it's Jing Yuan's eyes to widen.

"And then I would cease to exist sometime in the future without being able to see you again, the end," you add whilst turning around again so your back was facing him.

"Was that a joke?"

"...Unfortunately not."

You still don't turn around, but you're rooted in your spot for a few minutes - as if giving him a chance to do something, anything.

And it's at this moment that Jing Yuan comes to the realization that he's no good with emotions. He knows he's opening his mouth, but he's also aware that they keep closing too. The words die at the tip of his tongue, and his eyes are still staring at your back as you start to move further away from him.

He comes back to his senses far too late, only able to walk a few steps while reaching out a hand, "We'll meet again, right...?" he cries out, although he's fully aware you can no longer hear him.

[Well I got what I wanted. Jing Yuan I'll bring you back now.]

Jing Yuan can feel his consciousness getting dragged away from the simulated scene before he can answer. But just before his vision completely blackens, he can see you turn around while raising your arms up, seemingly waving at him - he can make out your smile as you open your mouth.

"Goodbye."

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Now Loading...

Starring Vampire!Gojo, who's become obsessed with his favorite barista at an overnight cafe. He knows that they're soulmates. He just has to convince her that they are as well.

CONTENT WARNING: This fic contains Yandere typical behavior, kidnapping, obsession, noncon/dubcon, blood kink, (spit kink if ya squint), unprotected sex, references to murder, and mind control. Obviously I condone none of this behavior, and reader discretion is heavily advised.

Satrou watched as you fluttered around your apartment, lighting candles and turning on Over the Garden Wall. You had on your coziest sweater, and not a single overhead light was in use- opting instead for the warm glow of your table and floor lamps. You were welcoming in fall with everything you had in you. You looked warm, cozy, and safe. And despite all of that, he couldn’t help but imagine just how much warmer, cozier, and safer you would look trapped in his mansion.

He adjusted his sitting position on his tree branch, watching you pumpkin spice your tea as you cuddled up on the couch. He loved that you left your curtains open just for him, just so he’d be able to keep an eye on you. He knew it had to be for him, who else could watch you on the fifth floor? And if you didn’t want to be watched at all, surely you would close your curtains. It didn’t make sense for you to just leave them open for no reason. Not with the amount of creeps running around in this town. Creeps he would protect you from.

He thought back to the first time he met you. A brand new barista at his favorite overnight cafe, seemingly hand picked for him. Your sparkling eyes and dazzling smile drew him in, but your irresistible smell is what trapped him. Like warm cinnamon and honeyed apples, already nostalgic to him even if it was his first time experiencing the smell. He was hyper aware of the fangs in his mouth, the need to sink them into whatever was producing that intoxicating smell threatening to overtake him. He felt like a cartoon character drawn to a fresh pie on a windowsill. Your voice sounded damn near angelic. He could still remember the poetry you relayed to him, the first words ever spoken between the two of you. Words he'd treasure forever.

“Hey, I like your glasses!” You smiled, definitely being nice to him because you liked him not just because you wanted a tip. He almost blushed. His glasses- round with red lenses- were more for utility than they were a fashion statement, or something he even liked wearing. They hid his eyes, making them appear to be intensely blue rather than the bright red they really were. Still, if you liked them he’d wear them until the inevitable heat death of the earth. 

“Oh, thanks.” He chuckled nervously, giving you a tight lipped smile. He didn’t want to freak you out with his…condition. At least not yet. 

“No problem man, what can I get you tonight?” It was then and there he decided you would be his one day.

And it was here and now he decided one day was today. He stood up on his branch and leaned against the trunk of the tree. He watched as you did your regular bedtime routine, going to sleep safe and relaxed, knowing your prince charming was coming to take you to his castle tonight. He knew you were on the same wavelength as he was. He knew from the friendly smiles you gave him every time he came into your cafe, from the way you spoke to him as if he was an old friend- with trust and understanding.

Like, when you first started talking about your boyfriend for example. At first, he thought you were trying to discourage his affections, hint at him to go away. But, he quickly came to his senses. You were his one true love, and he was yours, why would you try and throw that away for some mortal asshole? It wasn’t hard for him to figure out that you were asking him to take out the trash. 

He remembered how pathetic that boy sounded as he pleaded for his life. It disgusted Satoru that he was able to get so close to you. You deserved someone that could defend you, not some child that cried the moment things got dicey. You deserved him, Satoru Gojo. No one else would do. Still, it was an honor to take care of this chore for you, even if he wished it had been more of a challenge. He was glad to have taken on the task. It reaffirmed his love for you, and the desire to give you what you deserved. 

The lights in your neighbors windows finally went out, assuring him that no one would try to be a hero if you decided to play hard to get. He waited another hour to make sure everyone was asleep before he dropped out of the tree, taking on his bat form and flying to your window. He turned back into a human, catching himself on your brick windowsill. It was around now he realized he didn’t exactly think this through, but- it’s fine. It’s fine! This is true love, this is fate, things were going to work out. Probably. 

He pulled himself up, balancing with one arm on the thin ledge and opening your window with the other. He smiled when he found it unlocked, confirming that not only were you on the same page as him, you were waiting for him. Good girl. He slid into your studio apartment, and immediately had to brace himself against a wall. It was overwhelming just how much this space smelled like you. It made sense, of course, you spent more of your time here than anywhere else. He expected it to be rich with your smell, but he didn’t expect it to be so intoxicating. He could feel his fangs buzzing with the need to feed, and his body flush with lust. He was down right giddy at the realization that soon, his home would smell like this. 

But he had to get you there first. He straightened up, coming to his senses as he turned took at your sleeping form. He felt his chest tighten with affection. You looked so peaceful when you were asleep, softly snoring and completely content. You looked ethereal in the pale moonlight, snuggled under your fluffy blanket. If he saw a picture of you like this, he wouldn’t believe you were real. Which, is saying something cause he’s, ya know, a fucking vampire. 

He strode over to your bedside, gently running the back of his knuckles along your angelic jawline. “Rise and shine, beautiful. It’s time to go home.” He whispered softly into your ear, his rich voice filling your mind and causing you to stir.

“Mm- wha..” You muttered softly, not fully understanding the gravity of the situation in your groggy state.

“Come on darling, our bed is waiting for you at home.” He cooed again, taking your warm hand into his ice cold claws. 

“Wha..wait, Gojo?”

“You can call me Satoru. Or Love, that would work too.”

“GOJO?!” Oop- you were awake now. You ripped your hand from his, scrambling to get away from him. So you were going to play hard to get. “What are you doing in my home?!” You demanded. He tried to push back his annoyance. 

“Darling girl, this isn’t your home.” He gently reminded you, “Your home is all the way on the other side of town, with me.”

“Oh, fuck That!” You yelled, grabbing your bedside table lamp, a heavy porcelain antique, and smashing it across his head. To your credit, if he wasn’t a supernatural being- that would have really fucking hurt. If he didn’t know you were just playing, he would have thought you were actually trying to injure him! But, even if you were just playing, he couldn’t let violence slide. 

“Now now baby girl, Is that anyway to treat your lover?” He asked, pulling you into his arms with a speed that you quite frankly could not comprehend. His grip was impossibly strong too, not only rendering escape out of the question, but making it hard to breathe. You could feel bruises forming where is fingertips met your flesh, and bile rise in your throat. 

“I’m not your fucking lover Gojo-”

“Darling, please it’s Satoru to you.”

“You’re fucking crazy!” You snapped, trying to wiggle out of his grip, despite the futility of it. 

“Crazy for you Babygirl.” Oh great, not only was he out of his fucking mind, he was going to be cheesy about it too. 

“Let me go!” You demanded, trying to thrash but only managing to squirm. You tried kicking him, but it was about as affective as performing CPR on a corpse.

“I will, as soon as we get home.” He “assured” you. It was then you realized he was leading you to your open window. Oh no. Oh no no no no no! Was he going to fucking kill you?! Was home the afterlife?!

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You screamed, clawing as his arms and struggling against him in any way you could, “Gojo-”

“Satoru.” He was starting to lose his patience with your insistence of using his family name. 

“Motherfucker, we are on The. Fifth. Floor. You’re gonna kill us!”  Ohhhh riiight, You were human! You had never flown before! Of course you were freaking out, the first flight is always a little scary. He reminded himself he needed to be more sympathetic with you while you were adjusting, and mentally berated himself for forgetting in the first place.

“Don’t worry darling,” He said, sitting on the ledge and holding you even tighter to his chest- if that was possible, “I won’t let you fall.” He said before promptly falling back first out of the window. You don’t know what was louder, the sound of the wind rushing past your ears, or the screams ripping from your throat.

And then the wind got softer, as if you weren’t falling but-...You looked up to confirm your suspicion. Gojo was holding you on his chest as coasted through the air, looking as relaxed as he would if he was on an inner-tube on a sleepy lake. You suddenly understood what was happening.

“Oh, I’m dreaming!” You all but laughed at the realization.

“It is a dream come true, huh?” He smiled, “I thought we might share dreams.” You rolled your eyes at him, but noticeably relaxed. If you were dreaming, that meant there was no danger. You weren’t flying through the air with a sociopath that was trying to kidnap you, no. You were at home, safe in your bed. In the morning, you would throw away the expired clove in your pantry, and watch The Lost Boys as this fucked up dream slowly seeped out of your mind. All would be well.

That was the thought you were clinging onto as he landed in the lawn of an old southern gothic mansion on the edge of town. You were familiar with this property. The kids spread rumors of it being haunted, overrun with ghouls and ghosts and all things that go bump in the night. Most of them wouldn’t go up to it’s front door, even on Halloween night, with the promise of candy hanging in the air. They believed that once you knocked on the door, your days were numbered. Even the adults spoke about it in hushed whispers, sharing conspiracy theories about who the home owner could possibly be, and why no one ever saw them. Many assumed it was abandoned. 

And now that you were in the front lawn, you understood where all the fear came from. The house was overwhelming, a dark aurora clinging to it and a sense of dread radiating off of it. But, you were dreaming! You couldn’t be hurt! You let Gojo lead you into the front door with zero fear, knowing that you were impervious to danger at the moment. 

Inside you were greeted with a surprisingly warm interior. The outside seemed more like a defense mechanism now, like a bug that disguises itself as a much deadlier creature, when in reality the bug was harmless. Antique table lamps bathed the room in warm light, The red vintage wallpaper making the old black furniture look inviting. The class and elegance of the home put you even more at ease. Leaving you vulnerable. 

You didn’t even notice the amount of locks he was locking behind you, or the fact that some of them required a code. “Welcome home darling,” He said as he finally finished securing the million latches, returning and wrapping his arms around your waist, “What do you think?” He purred.

“It’s…cozy.” You said. It was, in it’s own weird way. “I always wondered what the inside of this house looked like.” 

“Well, it’s yours now, so feel free to make any changes you want.” He smiled, kissing your forehead. You felt a chill as his cold lips pressed against your skin. Your brain may have known it was dreaming, but your body didn’t. You still felt shaky, your heart was still racing, and your palms were still clammy. Your body was in super-hyper-defense mode. Which, was to say you felt like you were seconds away from a panic attack. He must have noticed the blood draining from your face.

“It’s late darling. The grand tour can wait, let me show you to our room.” Oh, good idea. If you slept, you could wake up in your bed and get this dream over with. You nodded and let him lead you up the ornate, spiral staircase, and down the hall to the master bedroom. An absolutely massive room that matched the living area, only instead of red it was a powder blue, A truly extravagant bed was the center piece of the room, a large canopy hanging over it. You noticed there were no windows in the room. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen any windows at all, other than in the living room. And even still, they were boarded up.

“Thanks for the room, I uh…I think I’m going to go to sleep. You can go now.” You told him. His laugh sent a blizzard through your body.

“Go now?” He cackled, “Darling, this is my room too.” He said gently, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. “We share everything…” He leaned down and pressed his nose into the juncture of your neck, taking a deep breath and getting lost in your scent. He felt you try to push him away, but you would have had an easier time trying to push Mount Fuji over. 

“Gojo, I-”

“Satoru.” He growled, “For the last time. My name, is Satoru.” He very gently reminded you, gripping you tighter and digging his long black claws into your side. You gasped from the pain, feeling drops of blood leak from you new would. You felt the pain. You felt pain.

You weren’t dreaming. You weren’t dreaming.

 You felt a sharp icy chill rip though you as he dragged his cold, slimy tongue along your neck. “You smell so decadent my love.” He praised. You lost your words as you felt him run his hands under your sleep shirt and up your bare skin. His chilled fingers left frigid trails along your body, reminding you of where he had touched- where he had violated. Your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your throat, and your stomach turned as he pressed your hips into his, making it painfully clear just how happy he was to have you here. 

He could smell your blood leaking from your side and it was clouding every other thought he had. He hadn’t fed in weeks. No one else was worth it, no one smelled nearly as appetizing as you. Every other disgusting mortal tasted rotten to him now, and no matter who he chased they were never you. They may have had your skin color, or your eye color, but none of them could hold a candle to you.

But he had you here now. His darling, his world. His perfect meal. And he was fucking starving. “I bet you taste as good as you smell.” He purred, dragging his fangs across the thin skin on your neck.

“N-no, don’t-!” Your words turned into a scream as he dug his fangs into your flesh, your scream dying in your throat as he bit down. You felt his sharp fangs pierce into you, opening up your veins and letting the blood flow freely for him. You felt his cold tongue collecting the very crimson that give you life, greedily feeding on you as if you were the finest meal he had ever had.

Probably because you were. The flavor of fresh apples and salted caramel spreading in his mouth and through his being, making his cold body buzz with your warmth. You tasted better than he had ever imagined. He roughly grabbed your hair, tangling his claws in it as he pulled your head to the side, giving him more room to feast. It restarted your nervous system. You found your will to fight again, thrashing in his grip and trying even harder to push him away. He growled at your sudden insolence, forcing himself away from your throat.

He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look in his eyes. “Why do you insist on fighting me, Love?” He groaned. You realized he wasn’t wearing his normal glasses, and his eyes were still as red as the blood currently flowing through you. Fuck, how could you have been so blind? You tried to break away from his grip again.

“Because you’re a fucking monster!” You snapped. Well that was harsh. He didn’t want to do this so early on in your living with him, but really you left him with no choice. “Let me go!” You demanded again.

“Why would I do that?” He asked, his eyes burning into your very soul. “You want to be here.” You watched as his eyes changed. Red irises now ringed with violet, then gold, then violet again. It was so…mesmerizing.

“No I-...” Your words fell from your lips, and you couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. You could feel your brain filling with fog, the edges of your vision becoming a vignette. Slowly you could feel the ice he filled you with melting from your body, leaving you feeling something much warmer instead.

“Yes you do. You’re my girl, of course you want to be here with me.” He purred, a soft smile looking so misplaced on his bloodstained face. “You do want to be with me, don’t you Y/n?”

“I do.” N-no. No that's not what you meant to say. What the hell?

“Then why are you trying to fight me?” Because he’s a fucking creep that stole you out of your bed and was now practicing the ancient art of BLOODLETTING on you!

“I don’t know.” No! Why weren’t your words matching your thoughts?! Why couldn’t you say what you meant!?

“If you don’t know Darling, then there's no point to it. I don’t want to hurt you my love, please don’t force my hand.” he sighed, cupping your cheek in his palm. You wanted to jerk away, but you felt your body lean into his cool touch. It felt nice against your warm cheek.

“I’m sorry.” You absolutely were not sorry.

“It’s okay Beautiful. I know how you can make it up to me.” His grin was wicked with ill intent as he returned to your neck, licking at the blood flowing there. You could feel your body temperature continue to rise, what was once almost pleasant slowly becoming unbearable. You whined softly at the unpleasantness of the heat.

“You’re warm,” He noted, running his cold hand along your side. The ice he held wasn’t unwelcome anymore. Now it felt like the cool waves of the ocean on a hot summer day. You felt you head nod limply at his obvious observation. Of course you were warm, you were on fire. 

“Let me help.” He whispered, pulling your shirt over your head. You’d think being exposed to the cool air in this drafty mansion would have helped your situation, but you felt no change. You didn’t feel a change when he slipped your bottoms off either, and you almost whined when he pushed you onto the bed, the fluffy fabric of the blanket making everything worse. 

And then his lips were on yours, like the first chill breeze after a heat wave. More, more, you needed more. Your hands fumbled with his shirt buttons, struggling with numb fingers to fit the brass through the holes. Finally, after undoing three, you gave up and ripped the shirt off over his head- possible ripped fabric be damned. 

“I knew you wanted me darling,” He grinned, your eagerness to have him undressed fueling his undeserved sense of confidence. You didn’t care though, because his skin was finally on yours. His chest pressed against yours, you finally felt some sense of relief, like putting aloe on a bad sunburn. You moaned softly as he trailed kisses from your jaw to the wound on your neck, still bleeding but much slower now. He gently sucked on the dripping injury, and instead of pain, you felt euphoria. You moaned softly, pressing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the building pressure.

He gave you a tight lip smile, red covering his lower face, as he moved down on you, spreading your legs. His grin grew once he saw what you were working with. He knew it would be pretty, he had imagined it more than a few times while fucking his hand- chasing a high he knew only you could give him. But honestly, he didn’t think it would be that pretty. You noticed his lack of commentary just in time to find out why he was keeping his mouth shut.

He leaned down and spit your own blood out and onto your cunt, making an already pretty pussy prettier. You were embarrassed to say you moaned, but the blood chilled by his mouth felt do fucking good on your burning body. 

“God, you’re a freak.” He laughed, showing blood stained teeth. “Yet another thing we have in common.” He cooed as he massaged the sangria into your clit, sending waves of euphoria through your body. His hand moved down, slowing tracing your entrance before slipping a long finger inside, quickly followed by a second. 

“Oh, fuck!” You gasped as he curled his fingers up inside of you, gracing your g-spot with an expert precision. You felt your hips buck up against your will, reacting to him in ways that would have made you nauseous in any other state. 

“You like that Darling?” He asked with a smirk, curling his fingers again and again. You whined softly, chasing the chill of his touch. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” You grumbled. You wanted to tell him no. You wanted to tell him to fuck off and stop touching you, but at the same time that was the last thing you wanted him to do. It felt like his touch was the only thing that could regulate your body, not to mention the fact that it just felt so fucking good. 

You were sure whatever he did to you was causing this heat, but you had also never been this sensitive before. His every movement sent waves of electricity through your nervous system. Your body craved him in way it had craved no one else before, responding to him like it was made for him. You felt a cool pool of pleasure forming in your stomach, your body buzzing with desire and anticipation.

He bit his lip as he felt you clench around his fingers, and immediately he had to feel that clench around his dick. He pulled his hand away, placing his two fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean, eyes rolling back at the sweet taste. You whined at the loss of contact, hips bucking in search of the pleasure they were robbed of. You wanted to cry, the frustration of a lost climax clouding your already cloudy brain. “Noooo!” Was all you could manage to say, and god did you sound pathetic saying it.

“Don’t worry Darling girl,” Satoru chuckled as he pulled out his cock, “I got something even better for you.” You watched as he pumped his dick, the angry red tip looking so much redder against his pale skin. He rubbed his hand over the leaking tip, using the fluid there to slick himself up. You wouldn’t say this about a lot of guys, but you thought even your normal brain would be able to admit he had a pretty dick.

A pretty dick he was about to shove into your soaking cunt. You bit your lip in anticipation as he lifted your hips up to meet his. “Ready pretty girl?” He purred. You nodded an aggressive affirmative and he almost laughed. “No no Beautiful, with your words. Tell me you want me.”

“I want you!” You whined, hearing your voice but not your words again, “I want you so bad, please. Please I need you, I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk anymore, until I can’t think straight, I want to be ruined for anyone else, please!”

“Atta girl,” He praised, finally pushing into your needy cunt. He shuddered as he did, your warm velvety walls enveloping him and pulling him deeper than he realized possible. He almost came right then and there, like an untouched virgin, but managed to contain himself. Your moans weren’t doing him any favors, but you couldn't help it. He felt like a snowstorm inside the inferno that was your body, controlling the fire that raged there and finally giving you some relief. The stretch stinging at you was just an added bonus.

“You feel so fucking good Darling,” He praised, pulling back and slowly pushing himself back in, perfectly rubbing against your g-spot. You curved your back in pleasure, electric waves of euphoria crashing into your body, and quickly dragging you back to the edge. 

“It’s like you were made for me,” He cooed, “My perfect meal, my perfect fuck toy, you were designed to be mine.” He moaned, tangling his fingers into yours as he looked you in the eyes, painting a scene of what he thought intimacy looked like.

“Fuck, you feel so good Satoru..” You moaned, cunt fluttering around him as your climax quickly approached. Something in his brain switched. Before you fully understood what was happening, you were folded into a mating press, his cock reaching places inside of you you weren’t even sure were possible to reach. Your veins felt like they were full of smoke and your entire body felt like it was made of stars, ecstasy exploding inside you every time he moved. 

“Say it again.” He demanded.

“Satoru!” You yelped, honestly a little pissed off he expected you to talk now.

“Again.” He demanded, pumping into you with a vengeance.

“Satrou!” You whined, digging your nails into the pale flesh of his back, dragging your nails and leaving angry red claw marks in your wake. 

“Who do you belong to Y/n?” He asked, eyes burning into your again. You knew the answer he wanted. You clenched your teeth and sucked on your tongue. You used any willpower you had left not to say it. He may have taken your body, but you couldn’t let him take you. 

“Come on Darling, answer me. Who do you belong to?” He prompted again, this time coupled with the perfect thrust of his hips, lining up perfectly with your sweet spot, and using a free hand to rub your clit. The wave of lust and pleasure that overtook you washed away any willpower you may have had left.

“You, Satoru.” You whined, feeling tears prick at your eyes.

“That’s right darling,” He grinned wickedly as he licked at your neck wound, letting the blood flow over his tongue. “You’re fucking mine.” He started pounding into you with a vengeance, and you felt the strings in your stomach start to snap. Your entire body tensed up vision went white hot as galaxies exploded inside your veins, euphoria crashing into your body in seismic waves, making your cunt quiver from the after shocks. Your head felt like it was filled with cotton and you could feel your thighs trembling around him as you struggled to catch your breath.

“Satoru I-” You tried to communicate but couldn’t get the words, your already altered brain turning to much and leaking out of your ears as he fucked you through your high. His was close, he wouldn’t be far behind. The way that your cunt fluttered around his cock mixed with the pretty sounds you were making were frying his own nervous system, and all he could think about was how pretty you’d look with his cum dripping down your thighs. 

“Y/n,” He panted as he pounded into you. Your eyes met his. You lifted a shaky hand to push his snowy hair out of his face and he was done for. The small intimate act leaving him gushing deep inside you to the point of overflow. “Fuck I love you,” He moaned as he fucked you through his high, “I Love You, I love you so fucking much.”

He all but collapsed on top of you as he finally finished, pulling you into his cold chest. Your body temperature finally felt normal again, and you could feel the effects of his hypnosis slowly wearing off. He noticed too, and kissed away the tears that slipped down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry Darling, did I overwhelm you?” He asked, genuine concern filling his voice. You wanted to scoff at the question, but choose to keep quiet instead. You were locked in his house. You had to play his games now to stay alive. He took your silence to be an affirmative.

“I’m sorry Darling. You don’t have to say it back yet, it’s okay. I know you love me.” He smiled, your blood still staining his fangs and making you sick. He finally pulled out, and you hated the empty feeling that followed. “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?”

[l-in-the-light]

The most embarrassing series of posts about Lawlu you will ever read: edition post-Punk Hazard (part 4)

This one will definitely live up to it's title. The "love is a hurricane" tale continues~

Luffy again showing interest in what Torao is doing. This is already like third time he shows his unusual interest in him (and it will happen a couple more times in this post as well). He really wants to know more about him. Despite the fact he's usually sleeping through backstories of his own crewmates, like Nami. His unusual interest isn't because he doubts Law, we already know he deeply believes him to be a good person. No, this scene exists purely to show us how big and special interest Luffy has for Law. Luffy is also a bit concerned here, we saw the switch happen in Punk Hazard, from now on Luffy will also worry back for Law.

Someone's trolling Luffy here and it's not Usopp, lol. I wonder if this is how Law was as an older brother to Lammy, telling her fake tales just for amusement. He's a teasing older brother type, isn't he? And now all of that is directed towards Luffy. That's so sweet.

Luffy, you were supposed to tell them before, why are you telling them only now?! Take things a bit more seriously!

Law though is so displeased. Not only a hand was slammed into his arm (he secretly liked it despite everything), he was told to get along (he doesn't want to!), and Luffy disappointed him for not sharing about the alliance before.

But let's stop at the "get along" complaint for a bit. Luffy, you goofhead, you didn't introduce Law to your crew?? (and please, don't you know Luffy, ofc Luffy didn't do it "offscreen", this is Luffy we're talking about! He doesn't do introductions! At all!) Poor Law doesn't know their names! How is he supposed to get along with them?? You think Law would ask them about their names? Definitely not! Can you even imagine Law asking about anyone's name?? (yeah, I can't either lol) So to save up his face, he would have to utilize all that info he gathered beforehand (he already knew who they were all the way back at Sabaody after all!).

So he recognized Robin, Nami, Zoro, Sanji, Chopper (and so is able to call them by their names, tho it's worth noting Sanji being a special case and referred to by his title), but he didn't apparently know about Brook, Franky or Usopp (because they got called Bone-ya, Robo-ya and Nose-ya instead of their names+ya). Brook got recruited in Thriller Bark so there wasn't any wanted poster for him back then in Sabaody, so that's understandable. There was one for Franky already, but before timeskip Franky looked completely different so Law didn't recognize him. And...

wait for it...

He didn't recognize Sniperking as Usopp that's why he became "Nose-ya". Yes, the joke lives on! LOL.

Oh Luffy, you really don't make Law's life easier for him, do you? And this way Law got exposed that he did research a bit about the Strawhats before, enough to memorize them. (I mean not like Bartolomeo, but... but! It kinda looks a bit like that here, doesn't it).

Law will get back at Luffy in Zou for that, no worries. Now you will never see the "Law didn't introduce his crew" in any other light from now on, haha. It was a payback. Luffy didn't care tho lol.

You don't have to believe me on that one, but you can't really deny it does sound suspiciously consistent, doesn't it? :3

Law: Why is everyone telling me that?

Also Sanji, we appreciate it, but you're a little bit late with that warning there lol.

To be honest, I think Law is actually perfectly aware of that, but at the same time he wouldn't mind to be called a friend anyway. He only minds it now because he wants to keep his distance and not form any attachments on his way. And doing poor job at it too.

Luffy looks so happy sitting there next to Law, he looks like he's having the best time in his life. He's probably having a lot of ideas of what to do together with Law now that they're friends in alliance. (many of which would not be met with Law's enthusiasm probably lol).

Luffy: Did you just say dinner will happen 5 times a day from now on??

Luffy's level of excitement here is absolutely stunning. And one more thing very important to note: remember how Luffy usually acts when someone yaps a lot? He might for example ask Nami about something difficult, but quickly loses interest with the answer. He often sleeps through explanations. But here? Law's got his full attention! The one who is actually napping through this is Brook, not Luffy. Luffy thinks Torao is cool and he *wants* to listen to him.

Law, where are you looking? Clearly at your favourite Mugiwara-ya grinning over there. His eyes are always tracking Luffy.

A moment later Luffy turns to see Kin and Zoro fight. Do you all think he noticed Law staring at him right there? You two need to stop being so cute. I can't even believe Oda actually drew a scene like that in shonen, even if he didn't make it obvious. I mean, look at it, Luffy's eyes are shining, I bet their eyes met. I told you all that One Piece is a story about love. Omg I'm disgusted with how this scene tugs on my heart right now. To be fair, I'm not even the first person to notice that Law is staring at Luffy there, I saw people pointing it out before.

Luffy: Hey look Law, we're famous!!

Law: But ofc we are, what do you mean?

Luffy is again trying to get any sort of reaction out of Law directed just for him (did he feel encouraged after he noticed Law staring at him the day before?). Luffy, please, stop, this is getting more and more embarrassing to watch you craving for Law's attention like this.

Law though always gives him that attention, curiously enough. There's not even one frame of Luffy calling out to him and Law just ignoring him. Which shouldn't be surprising, Law always seeks out Luffy as well, rarely with words, but at least with his stares.

In this regard, they're a really good match. Luffy wants to be pampered, and Law wants to pamper. I would usually say it's gross, but it's actually really heartwarming. They both get something out of it that they were both craving.

Law: Hey, am I not providing you with enough entertainment? Forget those boring fellas!

Someone's a bit jelly...

And Brook is again watching over them. God, I swear, it feels like he just *knows*.

Again, Luffy listening to Law talking. He would listen to him no matter what Law is saying, wouldn't he? Luffy is known for his terribly short attention span, but for Law he is capable of unusual feats.

(Also notice Law is always grabbing Caesar by his clothes, never in direct contact)

Time for the ransom call. I know that everyone is screaming there, but Law is suspiciously quiet, this is when he should be firm and confident, but instead he's just standing there. I think it means he was actually pretty anxious about this call, kinda taken aback (and it's not because of people screaming around, he had enough time to get used to that with the Strawhats, also usually it doesn't actually faze him). Luffy on the other hand is excited and thinks this is all super fun lol.

And then Luffy goes and takes over the call. Of course we all think he did it just because he's Luffy and that Law is displeased/angry here, but let's do uno reverse. I might turn your worldview upside down from this point on.

What if Luffy actually sensed Law's anxiety and decided he will help him? Luffy is after all really good at reading people's emotions, right? And of course he would want to help his beloved Torao.

Law looks displeased, but that's because of a sudden closeness. Those of you that followed my series on Law's fear of touch and closeness know what I mean. He can stand Luffy when he's close to him, but not out of a blue like that - he needs to brace himself first. That's why his first instinct here is to try to move away. Sure enough, right in the next moment we see Luffy holding the transponder, which means Law lets him do that actually. If he truly was so displeased and angry, he would have reacted faster to take it back or shouted at him.

Luffy's fuming here for no reason whatsover, Doflamingo didn't actually say anything bad to him yet (or at all really). Sure, Luffy got mad over Caesar, but the conversation already changed to something else, and Luffy is still showing an attitude. He's doing it for Law, isn't he.

Law meanwhile is just standing there, still not attempting to take the transponder back. He's not even trying or talking at all. This really doesn't support the idea of "he's so mad at Luffy for doing this", it actually seems to be the exact opposite: he's kinda overwhelmed here and was ever since Doflamingo picked up his call. Ofc he's also more and more distressed now, bracing himself mentally, because he knows he needs to do something and can't leave it all up to Luffy.

Law realized he needs to stop it, because Doflamingo is trying to bait Luffy, and everyone knows Luffy is weak to baits. In a way, stepping up just to prevent Luffy from getting into dangerous scenario, helped him overcome his own helplessness and anxiety. Luffy meanwhile indeed is losing it lol.

Let's look more closely to Law and Doflamingo's conversation here. Law is trying to make the talk very short, down to business and finish it off quickly. Doffy though stays confident and even tries to mock Law a little bit. It's almost like he's saying "Law, kid, you forgot to show me that my subordinate is fine, you need to step up your kidnapping game a little", he's kinda having this patronizing vibe here. "First step of a ransom call, remember? I taught you that myself".

Putting it all together can explain why Law is so anxious, he expected to hear Doflamingo all devastated, angry even after giving up warlord's title, instead Doflamingo is relaxed, mocking and confident, generally acting like he has the upper hand here. Law is worried, did he miss something, because this is not how it should look like, and he is right. Also he can't stand Doflamingo's confident tone, it's most likely making him feel weak, remembering the past. In their fight in Dressrosa Law will try his best to overcome this feeling by mocking Doflamingo back, but right here he was surprised and unprepared. He probably felt again like a kid, still part of Doflamingo's family, and Doffy's mocking tone like a mentor/parental figure scolding his clumsy subordinate truly added salt to the wound.

Law grits his teeth and continues, attempting to finish the call as soon as possible, full of bad feelings. And this is when Luffy snaps back to reality, gasping and reminding himself "I need to help Torao!" and so he does, by doing actually the best thing possible: cutting off the call.

This seems not-canon to you I bet, but I truly think Luffy tried to actually support Law here and it DID work in the end.

Of course Strawhats don't catch up to it and think Luffy just straightup ruined everything, but look at Law's reaction here. He's suddenly calm and does not blame Luffy for anything, in fact, he goes as far as to declare this is all fine. Would he really say something like that if he was truly angry? No, of course not, we have seen him angry everytime he truly believes his plan was just kicked out of the window by a Strawhat Luffy. This is simply not the case here.

Law is still looking pretty anxious there, probably thinking over multiple scenarios in his head. What did he miss? Why is Doflamingo so confident? This is crucial, after all it's not only about his own safety, but safety of Luffy and his crew.

Luffy meanwhile shows his interest in Law again, wanting to know about Law's adventures. He's probably trying to make Law think of something else instead of overworrying, put his mind off of it. Luffy really sticks with his resolve here of taking care of Law as well.

Also it's ultimately cute how Law is mechanically correcting Luffy on the name of the island (helpfully pointing out only the part he got wrong so it's a shorter word to remember for Luffy, awww), but he does it without even an exclamation mark there. He's not angry or irritated about it. In fact, it just shows he understands Luffy has problem with long and complicated words. He probably knows that's the reason he became "Torao" as well. He gets it, he accepts it, in fact he has no problem with it whatsoever.

Even when distressed and lost in his thoughts Law makes sure to still respond to Luffy when he asks something from him, and Luffy this time uses it to bring him out of his thoughts instead of just seeking attention.

Luffy: Yay, so if Torao has never before been to that island, it means we will have an adventure together! And not just one, there's no way I will let you leave me right afterwards. We're so gonna do more adventures! Dressrosa and Wano! Two adventures with Torao!

Law: This isn't an adventure, be serious!! Our lives are on the line!!

Luffy: Breakfast time!

Law: Breakfast time! *gasp* fuck!

Someone got caught up in someone else's pace. 1:0 for Luffy, he did manage to make Trafalgar Law take a break from his worrying.

Now to understand Law's exaggerated reaction here as something more than just a comedy moment we need to first elaborate a bit on the chapter's title that sets the tone between Doflamingo-Luffy-Law interactions and honestly spans through the whole of Dressrosa arc. This is chapter 700 titled "his pace", the next round chapter is 800 which wraps up Dressrosa. Chapters with round numbers tend to have a huge impact on the whole storyline happening (because Oda really loves his number games).

"Pace" from the title means someone dictating how fast the events are going or swaying things to move in their preferred fashion. Doflamingo does it in this snail talk by playing confident and trying to bait Luffy and undermine Law's confidence. Later he also showers his subordinates with compliments so they will do what he asks them to do - that's also setting pace by keeping everyone in line.

Law's pace in this chapter (and in whole of post-punk hazard transition) was him spiraling the things to move where he wants them, his first snail talk with Doffy was just Law having an overwhelming victory over him. Then through the span of one night things move very fast exactly towards the result Law wanted (Doflamingo resigning from warlord's position). Law usually doesn't use his power of controlling pace to make people do what he wants (unlike Doffy), that's not his style, they're just forced to stick for the ride, but he always leaves liberty in their own hands. For example, when he told Luffy to kidnap Caesar or assemble back Kinemon, he didn't tell them exactly step by step how they should do it: instead he left it to their judgement. In other words, he tells them what to do but not *how* to do stuff, he instead trusts in their ability to figure it out on their own.

And then we have Luffy, who selfishly chooses islands they visit and what enemies they're fighting, so he's also "setting the pace" for others. He controls it to a minimum as well like Law, he just makes sure to take care of the biggest danger himself and trusts the others to do whatever they want, he gives them freedom. His crew do their best out of their own free will to deserve Luffy's trust, every chess piece on the board moves according to what they believe is right, so Luffy's board isn't actually a game of one vs one, but instead of one versus many, because every player has as much liberty as Luffy has.

In this chapter Law lost to Doflamingo's pace, but restored himself, and lost to Luffy's pace and this time declared defeat. Doflamingo won against Law, almost won against Luffy, but then Luffy defeated him in one neat swipe. And why? Because Luffy actually wasn't playing alone, Law and Luffy supported each other there. So in the end Doflamingo lost to both of them.

You think Law didn't take a defeat against Luffy here? Then let's rewind back:

Remember this scene? Law was amused that Smoker would even think that Law can overpace Luffy (after all Luffy punched Caesar instead of kidnapping him and did a feast instead of leaving immediately), but he wasn't going to always allow Luffy to do that. Here he declares he's gonna set the pace and make Luffy follow his plan. He does it because it's neccessary or he won't be able to protect him, but also because of his petty pride or "saving up face", if you prefer that term here. He's not gonna just sit there and let Luffy do everything he wants and wait for him to finish off enemies. Law is throwing a challenge, he's gonna compete with Luffy in that regard.

But before they even reach Dressrosa Law already declares his defeat. Let me show you how: remember how he always loses his hat when he's losing?

Like here. Or in Dressrosa, or Winner Island.

Wait, where's his hat here? And this is the next frame after Law's big comical "gasp" moment, when he got dragged into Luffy's pace of "enough worrying, time for breakfast!". Yep, he knew he lost there, allowed himself to loosen up and took off his hat by himself as a sign of his defeat and Luffy's victory. But that's also because he's just a good mannered boy who knows you don't eat with your hat on.

It truly is a 1:0 for Luffy and Law is actually okay with that (losing to Luffy's pace is actually not a negative experience, because Luffy doesn't manipulate people with evil agenda in mind, like Doflamingo. He did it only because he wants Law to relax). And this sets up how the events went on in Dressrosa.

Also can I just point out that all it took for Luffy to sway him was to declare with a smile "Yay adventure with Law! Can't wait! And now breakfast!" and Law was already dragged into his pace? I mean... Law, Luffy didn't even do anything special. He was just basically himself there. Law's so smitten with him that it's all it took, honestly. Of course the support he got on that call from him also counted into that, but Law didn't declare defeat then yet, after all he also supported Luffy back in that call.

In later arcs Law will still attempt to be petty about this ongoing "competition", not wanting to leave it all up to Luffy, lol. He migth have lost once, but the war is ongoing! He's such a petty loser, I adore that flaw in him.

Luffy butting-in, making sure Kinemon doesn't just steal Law away for the Wano adventure. Hey, I'm gonna be part of that adventure as well!

Law's attempt to stop him there is really miserable. He can't bring himself up to deny Luffy when he sounds so happy, huh. My heart can't take it.

Law's already back to worrying again haha. His neverending journey of worrying when together with Luffy continues! Let it never end honestly.

He's also conflicted, because everytime Luffy acts so excited he thinks back to Lammy, as she was the exactly same energetic type of a person as Luffy haha.

i don't think Luffy gets it that this time around he's only making Law worry more and not less, awww.

That's all for now. Dressrosa will come up next (I might take a break from this series to answer some asks first :D). I hope you enjoyed seeing this chapter through different lens, it's fine if you still prefer it as just a comedy moment of Luffy acting like a complete menace and Law regretting his life choices. I think it's neat that the manga supports actually both interpretations, one on more casual level and the other more in-depth.

There is something I want to share about World Seeker Law's dlc, it's not really a spoiler, just one line that Law says that relates to the previous part of this series of posts (if you want to skip it then just don't read from now on! There's nothing more to this post afterwards).

This is what Law says in the game. I know that games are not considered 100% canon, but Oda DID work on both World Seeker and Odyssey, and honestly many lines and overall feeling of the game goes along with the canon. Law's complicated relation to closeness is definitely a part of this DLC, for example.

And here he says he doesn't mind what people actually call him! He never complained about "Torao" when Luffy called him this way, not even once. But he does make this one sour face when Nami does that as well. Makes one really think why is this such a special case for him, doesn't it? :D Again, he wants it to be a special name only from Luffy, doesn't he.