#im happy this caught your eye thank you anon!!
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shkika · 2 years ago
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SoS' return as Saint being described as "voluntary torture" with the void worm enveloping her is...interesting to say the least. Did she strike some kind of faustian bargain with one to be brought back?
Not really!
The way I picture void worms working is that their task is to keep things down or guide creatures.
Sliver, in her attempt to come back to life, she tried to make the swim up, but couldn’t, because of them. Imagine a long daunting swim ahead. Dark and quiet and tiring. So so very long. Aah- do you remember just for how long we fast travelled deeper down with the help of a void worm? Sliver tried doing that alone. Only to get dragged back down. Again and again.
It was driving her mad. So in a desperate attempt to keep them from touching her, she destroyed herself. Literally! So there would be nothing to drag down. Then sort of ascended as another creature all together. It was a painful process as she tried to abandon who she was so that she could continue up uninterrupted.
She broke the rule of what can going back up by emerging as something else entirely.
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siriuslylantsov · 3 months ago
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home
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
description: in which spencer gets home and he needs you.
tags: MDNI smut! and fluff, established relationship, sleepy sex, pinv, little praise, brief nipple stuff (im a creature of habit), cockwarming, aftercare, this is just sweet and quiet.
a/n: anon who sent in the req, this is for you :) little gilmore girls adjacent line there at the end because i have that show memorised and i think its silly. smut is slowly getting easier for me to right and im really happy about that. happy reading! tell me what you think
wc: 1.3k
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you feel the all so familiar lips on your shoulder and you know. you stir awake. with a groggy groan, you open your eyes and turn your head around. the strap of your tank top is peeled down to your arm and a messy mop of curls is tucked into your neck. he's home.
“hey,” you whisper. “you're home.”
spencer lifts his head up, “yeah, baby.”
you scoot back into him, needing him to be closer. chuckling, when you feel an unmistakable hardness against your ass. you nudge your nose against his. 
“you okay?”
“mhm. you're just so pretty,” he responds, lip caught between his teeth, eyes glistening even in the low light. you could see the need in his eyes, and even barely awake, you felt compelled to tease him.
you turn to face him, subtly wedging a leg between his. action ever so slightly causing some friction, just enough that it seemed innocuous. you scrunch your nose up appreciatively, muttering a quiet “thank you”, pressing your thigh more firmly against him. 
he pouts, knowing what you're doing. “please,” he mumbles.
“please, what?” you taunt, playing dumb.
“i need you, please angel,” he whines, hand finding your waist.
you caress his cheek lightly with your knuckles, the gentleness making him shiver, so sensitive. you smile at him and he returns it. “you have me, spence. whenever you want.”
he leans into your touch, eyebrows furrowed in mild exasperation. “why tease me then?” he implores. 
“it's fun,” you offer up uselessly with a shrug. everytime you do, it draws something whiny from him and you find it so endearing. 
he huffs, in disbelief and amusement. “you're impossible.”
“you love me,” you retort, melting into the pillow.
“i do,” he confirms with a nod, leaning in to kiss your lips, lingering for a moment to see if you'll kiss him back.
you do, it's a little sloppy but he's okay taking the lead. his tongue slips into your mouth as he slowly pushes you to lay on your back. finding the waistband of your shorts, he pulls them down along with your underwear. your legs instinctively part as he lifts himself to settle between them. he dips his head down to capture your lips again, the kiss more frenzied this time. his hand trails up to your shoulder pulling the other strap of your tank top too and bunching the fabric at your waist so your tits were out. you weakly paw at his t-shirt and he takes it off, kicking his pants and underwear off in the process, clothes in a tangled mess somewhere under the duvet.
he mouths at your neck, sucking lightly. his hand trails over your breast, kneading the flesh. his thumb grazes your nipple and it stiffens. he rolls the bud between his fingers, making you quiver, causing arousal to pool between your thighs.
“spence,” you whimper.
“i got you,” he responds quickly, dipping his fingers between your folds. groaning when he feels the wetness there. “always so wet for me,” he murmurs. your eyes flutter shut as he gently circles your clit.
“do you need my fingers first? or are you ready?” he inquires.
 “‘m okay. i can take it,” you reassure him, your tone a little petulant because of the lingering sleep. 
you look so unbelievably soft, he's afraid that he might break you. “i know you can, angel, but it's been a week.”
“need you inside me,” you slur.
your gaze meets his, equally clouded in lust. he takes the plunge, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance. he pushes in slowly, matching your sigh when he bottoms out. 
he stays there for a moment, relishing in the way you wrap around him. it's warm and soft and wet and overwhelmingly you, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. 
you seem just as content as him when you don't urge him to move immediately, raising your arms to pull him closer. your fingers trace the subtle lines of muscle on his shoulder blades, hallowed paths that you’re well accustomed to. 
your walls flutter around him and he buries his head into the crook of your neck, whispering sweet nothings into your skin, lips pressed firmly against you because he wants you to have it all, to absorb it, to take it. 
“perfect girl, you feel so good. so so good for me,” his words are muffled but heard by you all the same as he draws his hips back, only to somehow push in deeper. 
it goes like this. languid thrusts by him and soothing passes over his spine by you. it’s tranquil, the way that he fucks you–for a lack of a less crude word. it isn't making love either, in the sense that it isn't passionate or intense. but it's sweet, done with ease. practised motions of his hips has him dragging against your sweet spot incessantly. he can hear the hushed ah’s you let out, and god does he love how you sound. 
“i missed you,” he drawls into your neck, lips pressing feathery kisses to your skin.
your hand snakes into his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. “i missed you too, sweet boy.”
his pace quickens, ever so slightly, in mollified desperation. you almost feel a little bad that he's doing all the work, but you're too tired to think about it–and he feels fucking incredible inside you–so you happily let him. he lurks his hand between your bodies to rub at your clit again, angling his thrusts higher.
“fuck, baby, like that,” you keen.
“yeah?” he pants.
just like that. your orgasm washes over you in a wave of bliss–high, high and higher. the feel of you squeezing around him, drives him over the edge too. his hips snap as he fucks you through it, once, twice, and then he stills. 
he raises his head from your shoulder, “hi pretty,” he whispers, soft smile gracing his lips.
you hum in acknowledgement, the post orgasmic haze lulling you back to sleep. he chuckles quietly, brushing his lips over your forehead. he cautiously pulls out as to not wake you, corners of his mouth twitching when you make an incoherent noise at the feeling. 
he grabs a damp towel, warily cleaning the mess. he's careful when he redresses you, slipping on a clean pair of underwear and pulling the straps of your top over your shoulders, kissing either joint before lying down next to you. he pulls the covers up, starkly reminded of how cold you keep the room, holding your hand as he falls asleep too. 
your eyes flit open hours later at the feel of his fingers skimming over your face. rays of sunlight peek through the gap in the curtain. you look up at him, already staring down at you.
“creep,” you rasp, though there's no malice behind your words.
“i'm sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologises.
“which time?”
“both,” he lets out sheepishly.
“it’s okay, i'm not,” you counter as you throw an arm over him and tuck yourself into his side.
he wraps his around you in turn, smiling into your hair. you rest your chin on his chest, half-lidded eyes staring into his wide eyed brown ones.
“what time is it?” you inquire, too lazy to check the clock that sat atop your bedside table.
“late,” he says, running his hand down your arm and up again.
“i’m hungry, i want pancakes. can we make pancakes?”
“we can make whatever you want, sweetheart,” he answers, prompting you to grin and spring upright.
you notice the clothes on your body and you stick your bottom lip out, “you’re sweet.” you look at him a moment longer, eyes following the features of his face in awe. you pull him up to hug him tightly.
“oh, i’m so happy you’re home.” you chirp giddily.
he squeezes you, “they say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
you let go of him, jumping out of the bed. “yeah, well. sex does that too.”
m.list
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motherismotheringggg · 3 months ago
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I see all the nose conversations and I raise a request of teaching him the right way to eat it… I’m talking submissive NAC nose play
sunday warmth
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summary: see the request above, thanks to this lovely anon <3 (also inspired by this post)
type: dom! female reader x sub! nicholas chavez
tags/warnings: 18+, oral f! receiving, nose play, face sitting, face riding
author’s note: literally so sorry it took me so long!!!! i’m so excited to use this picture of him lmaoo ever since i saw it i KNEW it gave “sit on my face” vibes teehee!! also im loving all the sub! stuff, its so fun to write — anywhooo - enjoy <3
word count: 2556
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The soft glow of Sunday morning filtered through the curtains, casting golden patches across the bedspread and illuminating the quiet intimacy of your time together. Nicholas lay beside you in a pair of gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, the casualness of the outfit somehow making him even more magnetic. The fabric clung to his thighs just enough to highlight his muscular build, leaving little to the imagination. Meanwhile, your pink silk nightgown draped softly over your body, the delicate material catching the light with every subtle movement. The smooth texture hugged your curves, accentuating your form with an effortless elegance that Nicholas couldn’t stop stealing glances at.
Nicholas held you close, arms wrapped around you as if anchoring himself to this moment, the world outside fading with each steady heartbeat pressed to yours. The warmth of last night lingered, sweet and drowsy, settling into your bones. His gaze, still hazy with sleep, held that same starry-eyed, adoring look that sent a thrill through your chest—a look full of quiet awe and devotion.
As you stroked a gentle hand down his back, he shivered, leaning into your touch with a soft sigh. He nestled closer, nose finding the familiar curve of your neck, breathing you in like something he needed. You felt his chest rise and fall, each breath syncing with yours in an unspoken rhythm. His voice came out low and drowsy, “God… I’m so happy right now. This just feels right.”
His hands traced light patterns along your spine, trailing down as if to memorize every inch. His lips brushed your shoulder in a featherlight kiss, lingering just long enough to send a ripple of warmth through you. He entwined his fingers with yours, squeezing gently, as if wanting to make this feeling last—just the two of you cocooned in the glow of morning.
You laughed quietly, the sound melting into the stillness as you ran your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered closed, shivering slightly at your touch. “Is that right?” you teased, placing a soft kiss on his forehead, then another on his cheek, lingering just a bit longer.
He tilted his head, eyes still hazy from sleep but shining with raw adoration that made your heart swell. For a moment, he seemed lost in your gaze, every kiss and gentle stroke pulling him further under a spell he didn’t want to break. His fingers drifted along your arm, almost shy, as he murmured, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.” His words, spoken so softly, lingered between you, settling like warmth against your skin.
You brushed your hand against his cheek, letting your thumb trail over the faint flush that bloomed there. His features, so boyishly handsome, softened under your touch. The light curve of his smile was irresistible, endearing in its gentleness, but it was his nose that truly caught your attention. It had a subtle upturn at the tip, a perfect balance of sharp and soft, giving him an air of youthful charm. When he smiled like that, his nose crinkled just slightly, and you couldn’t help but let your fingers trace its bridge, marveling at the small imperfections that made it so uniquely his. You swore you could get lost in the way his expressions shifted with every tender moment you shared.
Unable to resist him any longer, you leaned down, capturing his lips in a kiss. It started slow, light, and teasing, but the passion between you ignited quickly, the connection growing more heated with every passing second. Nicholas sighed into your mouth, his hand sliding down your back to pull your leg over him, his fingers pressing into your thigh as he deepened the kiss. His hands roamed your body with a hunger that sent sparks through you, trailing over your legs and settling on your ass, squeezing as he pressed his hips up against you.
The way he responded to you was intoxicating, and when you bit his lip just hard enough to make him wince, a shiver of satisfaction coursed through you. He whimpered softly, the sound so vulnerable yet so eager that it only spurred you on. Taking the lead as you loved to do, you kissed your way down his neck, your lips grazing his skin with deliberate intent. Each bite and kiss drew a soft gasp from him, his breath hitching with every movement. The feeling of his rapid heartbeat beneath your lips was a thrill you’d never get tired of.
You could feel him hardening against you, the heat of him impossible to ignore. With a sly grin, you let your hand trail down his body, fingers grazing over his stomach before moving lower to grasp at his growing arousal. But just as you began to tease him, Nicholas pulled back from the kiss, his forehead pressing against yours as his chest rose and fell in quick breaths.
“I love it when you take control,” he murmured, his voice trembling with honesty. “You always make me feel so good, but… I want to make you feel good, too.”
His words caught you off guard, and you raised an eyebrow, your expression shifting to a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “Oh?” you asked, your voice low and teasing, but he hesitated, his cheeks flushing deeper as he worked up the courage to clarify.
“I—” he began, his voice faltering slightly before he steadied himself. “I want you to sit on my face.”
The nervousness in his tone made your heart flutter, but there was also a determination in his gaze, as if he’d been holding onto the thought for a while, working up the courage to ask. You feigned a small smile, equal parts touched and intrigued. It was endearing to see your boyfriend so eager to please, his inexperience making his request all the sweeter. But you also felt a flicker of excitement buzz through you—this was new territory, and you loved the idea of teaching him, guiding him to explore something that left him vulnerable yet so eager.
“I know I’m… not exactly experienced,” he admitted, his words rushing out now, almost tripping over themselves in his nervousness. “But if you tell me what to do… I promise I’ll make you cum.” His voice was both shaky and firm, a mix of innocence and raw determination that made your heart race.
You didn’t respond with words, not immediately. Instead, you leaned down, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss that was deep and unrelenting. Your tongue swept against his, the wet heat of the kiss making his soft whimper vibrate between you. When you finally pulled away, his lips were swollen, his breath coming in shallow pants as he looked up at you with wide, expectant eyes.
Without a word, you shifted to your knees, moving into position. Nicholas adjusted instinctively, sliding down on the bed to give you more space, his movements a little tentative but completely obedient. He watched you with a mix of awe and anticipation as you placed a knee on either side of his head, bracing your hands against the headboard.
Pausing momentarily, you glanced down at him, your lips curving into a smirk as you asked, “Ready?”
His answer came as a fervent nod, his hands already moving to rest on your thighs, fingers curling against your skin as though anchoring himself for what was to come. With a slow exhale, you shifted your weight, lowering yourself down. His hands tightened slightly, his breath hitching in anticipation as his lips met you, and the world seemed to melt away.
As you lowered yourself onto him, Nicholas let out a shaky breath, the warm air fanning against you and sending a spark of anticipation down your spine. His lips brushed tentatively at first, soft and careful, but when you gave a subtle buck of your hips out of pleasure, he took it as encouragement. His tongue darted out, the wet heat of it drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. You pressed down just a little more, shifting to guide him, and his hands gripped your thighs tighter, his touch equal parts grounding and desperate.
“Good boy,” you murmured, your voice low but commanding, and you felt the way he responded instantly, his body tensing under you like he’d been waiting to hear those words. His nose bumped against your clit as he adjusted, and you grinned, biting your lip at the delicious friction it caused.
You leaned into it, tilting your hips so that his nose pressed against you more firmly, dragging along sensitive skin in a way that made you shudder. “Mmm, just like that,” you breathed, one hand sliding down to grab his hair, tugging lightly. Nicholas whimpered at the motion, his eyes fluttering closed as his tongue moved with more confidence, following your lead, letting you set the rhythm and pace with each deliberate motion.
His nose brushed you again, and this time you couldn’t help the soft, breathy laugh that escaped you. “Oh, fuck baby you don’t even know how good that feels,” you teased, looking down at him. His cheeks were flushed, his lips glistening as he worked, his expression a mix of concentration and adoration. When his gaze flicked up to yours, his eyes dark and pleading, you could have sworn you felt a rush of heat straight to your core.
“Look at you,” you cooed, tightening your grip on his hair just enough to make him groan, the sound muffled against you. “So eager to please, aren’t you? You love this, don’t you?” His response was immediate—another desperate sound vibrating against you as he nodded, the motion making his nose rub against you even more.
“Use it,” you instructed your tone firm but teasing, your hips grinding down to emphasize the point. He hesitated only for a moment before leaning into the pressure, the bridge of his nose pressing and dragging just right, sending sparks through your body. Your free hand braced against the headboard as you rode the rhythm he was building, his tongue and nose working together in a way that made your breath hitch and your legs tremble.
“You’re doing so good,” you praised, your voice breathier now as your control started to slip, but the satisfaction in his eyes as he glanced up at you kept you grounded. His hands slid higher, gripping your hips like he was trying to hold you in place, desperate to keep you exactly where you were, exactly how you liked it.
“Don’t stop,” you commanded, tugging his hair again, and he whimpered, his tongue circling with more urgency, his nose brushing insistently as if he were savoring every moment, every reaction. The friction was intoxicating, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body tightening as you lost yourself in the way he worshiped you, utterly and completely.
“You’re such a good boy,” you grunted, grinding yourself harder against Nicholas’ eager mouth. Your hands moved without thought, grasping at your breasts, squeezing and teasing your nipples in pursuit of that electric high surging through you.
Nicholas barely pulled away, just enough to speak, his lips swollen and glistening. “I want to taste you when you finish,” he rasped, his voice thick with need. “Use me... please, just keep going until you cum.” The sheer desperation in his tone, the way he begged for your pleasure, sent another rush of heat through you.
The more you moaned, the more he hummed in agreement, the vibrations from his lips and nose against your sensitive core driving you wild. For Nicholas, being completely at your mercy wasn’t just about submission—it was about worship. He loved the way your power over him made him feel. The weight of your body on him, the way you dictated every movement, every breath he took; grounded him, filled him with purpose. The sounds you made, the look of ecstasy on your face—all of it told him he was doing exactly what you needed, and it drove him to want to give more. He craved the dynamic, that raw, unfiltered connection that came from surrendering completely to you.
Your breath grew heavier, the mounting pressure inside you building with every moment. Your moans filled the room, blending with the soft, pleased sounds Nicholas made beneath you. As you arched your back, gripping the headboard tightly with both hands, your thighs trembled against his face. Sensing your impending climax, Nicholas gripped your thighs firmly, anchoring you down against him, determined to take you over the edge.
The wave of pleasure that hit you was overwhelming, crashing through your body and leaving you gasping as you cried out his name. Your back arched further, your grip on the headboard was unrelenting as you rode out your high. Nicholas didn’t let up, his mouth and nose continuing to drive you through the aftershocks.
When your body finally stilled, he shifted beneath you, placing soft, reverent kisses along your sensitive womanhood, savoring every moment. His hands remained on your thighs, grounding you, his gentle actions a stark contrast to the intensity of the pleasure he’d just given you. "So perfect," he murmured against your skin, his voice tender and full of admiration.
As your breathing slowed and the tremors in your thighs began to fade, you shifted off of Nicholas, still kneeling on the bed. He looked up at you, lips flushed and glistening, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. Bending down, you captured his mouth in a kiss, tasting yourself on him. The kiss was fervent, eager—every bit of his passion poured into it. All he wanted was to make you cum, and he had. Thoroughly.
When you finally pulled back, your fingers grazed his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, his doe eyes wide and shimmering with affection. A soft, satisfied smile spread across his face as if he’d just conquered the world. You could see the anticipation there, the way he craved your approval, your words.
“You’re my good boy,” you murmured, and his face lit up, the praise washing over him like sunlight. His lips parted, and you could almost hear his heart racing. That spark of pride and excitement quickly overtook him, and before you could say another word, he shifted with surprising strength, using just one arm to ease you down onto the bed. His body hovered over yours, his lips crashing onto yours with a heated kiss that made you gasp and giggle against him.
“Nick!” you shrieked playfully, your laughter mingling with his as he buried his face in your neck, peppering kisses along your skin. His weight pressed against you just enough to remind you of the intimacy you’d shared, yet not overwhelming. His hands roamed your sides, your legs tangling together as you held him close, neither of you wanting the moment to end.
The rest of the Sunday blurred into one long, uninterrupted wave of warmth and bliss. You stayed wrapped up in each other, sharing soft kisses, whispered praises, and tender touches. Time seemed to stretch in that golden morning light, the world outside fading entirely as you indulged in each other’s presence. Nicholas was yours, utterly and completely, and as he held you close, you knew there was nowhere else either of you would rather be.
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bitchimasnake-sss · 1 year ago
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hello oml i luv ur writing, i’m feeling kind of angsty tonight so i wanted to request a monster trio and fem reader where they get caught cheating and then like beg for her (love when men beg!) but the reader doesn’t take them back >:0
it's the way i know these men will never cheat so i had such a hard fucking time writing this out (hence its trash) but ask and it shall be delivered (can you tell im a people pkeaser? yes or yes?)
also, so sorry it took me forever to write this out!!!
"i wish i never met you" ft. the monster trio!
ft. luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader
set-up: angst, thats it thankyou (thanks to anon for the idea!!)
warnings: i tried writing angst (and miserably failed), 'nuff said; also loads and loads of cursing im sorry (also couldn't write anything for sanji im so sorry)
luffy:
- "luffy?" your voice comes out as a meek whisper, blending into the night air as you see your boyfriend kissing another woman's neck in the middle of the bar - to be fair, you were on a break. you had asked him for some space but that was less than 24 hours ago and now you saw the captain of your crew entertaining a woman in his lap - "yn?" his eyes dart over to you and there's heavy guilt in his voice but you're turning away, walking away from the man you had come to win back he's running after you, his hands outstretched to catch you in your stride - "yn" he says again as he turns you to face him - a faint humming and thumping ran rampant against your cranium, visioning blurring, throat constricting till every breath felt like concrete against your burning chest - he looked guilty. the usually happy-go-lucky man seemed as though he was about to fall apart. his eyes were wide, laced with vague uncertainty and fear; his voice trembled, words faltering at the tip of his tongue as if a cursed melody - "i cannot believe you, luffy" your voice kissed your ears in a tremble as you're surprised that you can still speak, "fuck, i mean i thought you fucking loved me?" "it's not what- i do. i do, i love you." he sucks in a breath, eyes closing with great strain, "yn, its not. it's ussop, he suggested-" - ussop "suggested"???? "are you for real?" you scoff and feel the soft tears cascade down your cheeks, "ussop said shit and you decided to go fuck some random fucking woman?" - you're turning your back at him again but he pulls you towards him till your face is against his chest and his fingers interweave with your hair; you shouldn't like this. you shouldn't relish in his familiar warmth and smell and you shouldn't want to hug him when he presses a chaste kiss against your temple. you shouldn't listen to him when he says "trust me, i love you so much please" - he cheated on you, godfuckingdammit. - and he saw no problems with it till you showed up and caught him in his little fucking act. - he doesn't get to cheat on you a day after you guys went on break and then fucking have the audacity to hold you close to him as if the blood wasn't on his hands, as if he wasn't the one ruining it all. - as if he wasn't the one planning to fuck a woman tonight and return to your warm embrace tomorrow as if it never happened. - "let me go" your voice was eerily calm against his futile apologies "what? yn, no, it was a kiss i promise just one fucking ki-" "luffy, let go." - so he did - your vision blurred, your breath hitched and you walked away. you walked away from arms that had been your home on cold mornings, from eyes that traced over your face with love, from that faint smell of coconuts and a bright smile. - how can you be homesick when he was the one who wrecked it all? - but he let you go, so, you walked away.
zoro:
- somehow, you saw it all play out and now here you were, looking like the fool - fuck, how naïve were you? didn't you notice it when his touches became faint, his hands only finding yours if he had to fuck out some frustrations; his smiles became a rare occurrence. didn't you notice when he relied more on a bottle of sake than you? so fucking naïve. - you couldn't stand this party. all your friends were busy mingling with the other pirate fleet and your boyfriend had disappeared an hour into this stupid event (maybe he was passed out somewhere after drinking too much), so what were you to do except escaping into your room and spending the night away all alone? - but you could hear moaning from outside the door, faint screeches and curses. but most importantly, you could hear your own boyfriend's voice repeating the same phrases so sacred to you - opening the door with the key you had, you walked into the scene - the blood rushed into your ear and suddenly every little jolt of the sunny made you feel like you would throw up. the world swayed under your feet as you took in the tangle of limbs that lay in front of you - "zo? zoro?" "yn- fuck, what the fuck" he was frozen, the other woman covering herself in your sheets, snuggling against your boyfriend in your room. - you were gonna be fucking sick. - "yn, what are you- doing here, i-" his voice trembled, eyes darting between you and the floor, avoiding your scorching gaze. - "are you fucking kidding me?" to your surprise, a small laugh escaped you despite the shock and the dew clinging onto your lashline. you repeated, as if unaware you had already spoken once, "you have to be fuckin' kidding me, fucking christ zoro." "i can expain, ple-" he got off the bed, putting on his pants and the other woman used the opportunity to pick up her dress and slip out "explain? explain to me how you fucked that woman?" you seethed, the words lingering on your tongue like a bitter aftertaste. - his hands over his eyes, he paced around, "yn just lis-" "no fucking go ahead." the tear streaks glided past your cheek, burning as they dripped off your chin and onto the hardware flooring, "explain to me how you fucked her, did you do it the same way you fuck me? was it good? did she-" - his tone shifted, as if resentment deep within boiled to the surface, "why do you fucking care now? huh?" "why dO I CARE? ZORO CAN YOU HEAR YOURSELF? YOU FUCKED ANOTHER WOMAN RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME AND-" "AND WHAT?" his voice softened when you flinched at the sudden high tone, "and fucking what yn? i've been nothing but fucking miserable and you could barely notice" "I DID NOTICE. I DID FUCKING NOTICE AND WH-what- i tried everything. i tried to make you happy but you being miserable was enough reason for you to ch- fucking cheat on me?" your voice trembled, tears pouring down and chest heaving. - as if the gravity of the situation weighed in on his all at once, his face contorted till all he could display was sheer, stark guilt "i- fuck" he took a step towards you, arm outstretched as if to pull you towards him - but you took a step back - "yn" he whispered, "i dont know why i- fuck, why did i fucking do that? im sorry, listen to me im sorry-" "you're sorry?" you scoffed, "take that sorry and shove it up your fucking ass" - with that, you were gone. finding yourself back at the party, gulping down pint after pint of booze till you woke up with a hammering headache and a pair of foreign arms wrapped around your torso - and when you turned to look at it, you missed the familiar green locks of hair - but fuck roronoa zoro, right?
sanji:
- im so so so so so sorry but i cannot write anything for this man. if he's with you, he's down bad.
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yeomongi · 1 month ago
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 — 𐙚
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genre: fluff!!!
pairing: hongjoong x you
word count: ~1k
warnings: one or two quick kiss scenes, emotional distress, joongie is hurt :( no proofread
synopsis: hongjoong comes home injured, frustrated and feeling useless. y/n cares for him, offering love and comfort, showing him it’s okay to lean on someone else.
note: this was so cute i’m so happy w how it turned out!! this was also a request, i hope it’s what anon meant but im not fully sure if i understood correctly 😭 reblogs and interactions appreciated! <3
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hongjoong had always been the kind of person to push himself too hard. you knew that the moment you met him. his passion burned bright, almost too bright, like a star on the verge of exploding. it’s what you admired about him, but it’s also what worried you the most.
he’d come home after the tour leg, his arm wrapped in a sling and an apologetic smile playing on his lips. “it’s nothing serious,” he said, his voice soft but firm, trying to reassure you before you could even ask. “just a small sprain. i tripped backstage.”
but the way he winced when you gently helped him out of his coat told you otherwise.
“joong, a sprain doesn’t look like this,” you murmured, carefully unbuttoning his sleeve to examine the swelling on his wrist. his skin was an angry shade of purple, the kind that made your chest ache just looking at it. “why didn’t you say something sooner?”
he shrugged with his good shoulder, his eyes avoiding yours. “i didn’t want to worry you. or the members. or… anyone, really.”
you sighed, the sound heavy with frustration and affection. “you’re unbelievable.”
he chuckled weakly, letting you lead him to the couch. “i know.”
from that moment, it was a constant battle to get him to rest. hongjoong was restless by nature, always scribbling in his notebook, tinkering with his music, or running off to meetings. the injury didn’t stop him from trying to do all of it, even with one hand.
“y/n, i can handle it,” he said one evening when you caught him trying to hold his laptop with his injured arm. you didn’t say anything at first, just crossed the room and gently took the device from his hands, setting it aside.
“you can’t handle it if you don’t give yourself time to heal,” you said softly, crouching down in front of him. his lips parted like he wanted to argue, but when he saw the look in your eyes, he deflated.
“i just feel useless,” he admitted quietly, his head hanging low. “there’s so much to do, and i’m just… sitting here.”
your heart broke a little at the way his voice cracked. you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against his cheeks. his skin was warm beneath your fingertips, and you felt him lean into your touch almost instinctively.
“you’re not useless, hongjoong,” you said firmly, but your voice softened when his gaze flicked to yours, vulnerable and uncertain. “you’re human. you’re allowed to take a break.”
for a moment, he just stared at you, his lips parting as if to speak. but then, instead of answering, he leaned forward—tentatively, hesitantly, like he was testing the waters. your breath caught when his lips brushed against yours, featherlight and shy.
it was so un-hongjoong, so unlike the confident man you were used to, but it made your chest ache in the best way. you kissed him back, just as soft, your hands slipping to the nape of his neck as you pulled him closer.
when you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes fluttering shut as he exhaled shakily. “thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “for everything.”
you made it your mission to take care of him after that. you’d help him with the little things, like tying his shoelaces or pouring his tea, even though he’d grumble about being babied. but he never stopped you. in fact, you’d catch him watching you with this soft, grateful smile that made your heart skip every time.
nights were your favorite, though. hongjoong would let his guard down completely then, curling up beside you on the couch while you ran your fingers through his hair. he’d hum softly, the sound vibrating against your side, and you’d feel the tension slowly leave his body.
“you’re too good to me,” he mumbled one night, his voice muffled against your shoulder.
“you deserve it,” you replied, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
he didn’t say anything after that, but the way he clung to you, his fingers curling around the hem of your shirt, said more than words ever could.
it wasn’t easy, of course. there were days when he was irritable, snapping at you over the smallest things, only to apologize profusely minutes later. “i’m sorry, y/n,” he’d say, his voice small and heavy with guilt. “i’m just… frustrated.”
“i know,” you’d reply, pulling him into a hug despite his initial resistance. “it’s okay. i get it.”
and you did. you understood how much it hurt him to feel like he couldn’t do what he loved, like he was letting everyone down. but you also knew he needed to let himself be vulnerable, to let someone else carry the weight for once.
slowly but surely, he started to heal—not just physically, but emotionally, too. he let you take care of him without protest, and in return, he took care of you in the little ways he could. like leaving you sticky notes on the fridge with messages like “don’t forget to eat <3” or making you playlists filled with songs he knew you’d love.
“you’re the best, you know that?” he said one afternoon, his voice warm and genuine as he watched you carefully bandage his wrist.
you laughed softly, shaking your head. “you’re just saying that because i’m your personal nurse right now.”
“no, i mean it,” he insisted, his eyes locking onto yours. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”
the sincerity in his voice made your cheeks flush, and you looked away, focusing on securing the bandage. “well, lucky for you, you don’t have to find out.”
he grinned at that, reaching out with his good hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “lucky for me, indeed.”
and in that moment, with his fingers brushing against your skin and his eyes shining with affection, you realized just how much you meant to each other. no matter how many times life knocked him down, you’d always be there to pick him back up—and he’d do the same for you.
because that’s what love was. it wasn’t perfect or easy, but it was worth it. and with hongjoong, it always would be.
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revasserium · 5 months ago
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hi! I've been reading your opla!zoro stuff and I wanted to tell you your writing is so gorgeous! it's truly breathtaking, you're really talented ❤️ i've looked through your prompts tag, im not sure how requesting works, but could I ask for "edge of falling" or "the spaces between us" (whichever one you like the most) with zoro and fem!reader? i'm a goner for longing and feelings realization and the prompts give me those vibes, but i'm sure anything you write will be lovely <3
reqs are open!
the edge of falling
opla!zoro; 7,475 words; fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, passing mentions of: cult!, physical violence, & trauma/cult-programming, ex-cult member!reader, strawhat!reader, traumatized!reader, protective!zoro, healing from past trauma, learning to trust etc, angst with a happy ending!, a metric TON of plot
summary: "Lie to me," Time said to Love; Love smiled and said, "I promise, I'll never let you slip away."
a/n: thank u for the request anon!!! i uhm idk what happened with this fic tbh. there's def uh -- longing of SOME kind here??? welp. pls read the tw list! there's some dark-ish content in this. but i promise it ends well u__u
prelude: in which a fox teaches you to speak
Time is the greatest liar, so you are told, over and over and over. For the longest time, you think it’s the only truth you’ll ever know.
But we will live forever…
So long as you do the things you’re told. So long as you make the Fox happy. So long, so long, so long.
There is no way to mark the passage of time in the compound; with no sunlight to guide the way, you are left to other, more primal ways of keeping track — that elusive, silver-fish creature — time — always slipping through your fingers when want to hold on most.
You measure it in wounds, in the time it takes for a fresh wound to seal over, for the scab to break and reveal the soft, tender pink flesh beneath. You measure it in gulps of water, in bites of cold food, in the droplets of artificial rain that they let fall through the ceiling sometimes. You measure it in rewards too, in long baths and hot meals, in the evenings when the Fox would tell you stories in his low, lilting voice instead of leaving you in his seething silences.
And he is ever so good with stories. If you stay still and keep quiet, and let his voice wash over you like a hungry tide across a rain-starved beach, you can feel the words seeping into your bones, ringing out till they feel like nothing but god’s given truth.
As long as you’re good… I promise I’ll make you live forever.
Like this, you learn the weapon of words, the power of speech, how to listen for lies, and how to tell them, and tell them, and tell them.
The Fox is good at lying; you’ll just have to learn to be better.
act i: yet another sad, desperate soul
Roronoa Zoro has never been a man of many words, but it would be remiss to say that he isn’t a man of his word — you see, when he does speak, he speaks with intention. And always, with conviction.
“Hey. No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”
This, then, is the first lie he tells you.
“Liar.” You spit out the word, drawing back, your body a tangle of livewire nerves, your eyes darting back and forth, an entire life’s worth of fight and flight caught on the hair-pin trigger of his breath as he jolts back slightly and blinks at you.
“Y-you — you can’t know that,” you say, your voice still ragged. But Zoro sees it for the attempt it is — an olive branch, however tentatively extended. And he takes it, wordlessly.
He nods once, reaching out to help you up. The compound crumbles around you, and you unconsciously wrap your arms around yourself, as if to hold yourself together, to keep from shattering into a hundred million tiny little shards of pain and mistrust.
“The fox-guy’s dead! But it looks like this whole island’s gonna blow!” Nami races out of the massive, temple-esque structure just as it starts to collapse from the inside out.
Luffy slingshots passed, cackling as Sanji and Usopp bring up the rear. On the Merry, Robin and Chopper are waiting, and the second Zoro manages to hoist you onto the main deck, the ship careens off into the dark tumult of waves.
You skitter away the minute Zoro’s arm slips from around your waist, and he turns to find you pressing yourself back against the railings, staring at them all with wide eyes, your expression caught halfway between fear and consternation. He takes half a step back, crossing his arms just as Luffy bounds forward with a bright, unassuming smile.
“Don’t worry! You’re safe now!” He makes to slap one of your shoulders but you duck out of the way, chewing on your bottom lip.
Robin clears her throat gently and offers you a smile, “We’re not going to hurt you.”
You narrow your eyes, your gaze darting between them like a trapped animal, but after another beat of stillness (punctuated only by Nami swearing softly to herself as she steers the Merry around a particularly difficult formation of rocks), your entire body seems to soften, and Zoro uncrosses his arms again, resting a hand casually on the hilt of his blades.
“Th-thank you…” you bob your head once, swallowing hard passed chapped lips and a raw throat. Your white linen dress is stained with blood and dirt, a tear at your collar making it slip from your shoulder.
“’S alright now, darlin’ — how bout we run you a nice, hot bath? I could cook you just about anything y’like. Fancy a drink as well? I think a bubbly would be good for a —”
“Lay off, cook.” Zoro cuts Sanji off with a scoff, barring Sanji’s approach with an arm in the gut.
You watch them with dark eyes, your expression curiously blank.
“Will you let me look at your wounds?” Chopper offers.
You jump a little at his voice, piping up from your left side. You glance at Zoro once before looking back at Chopper and nodding.
Sanji tucks his hands into his pockets and watches as Chopper leads you beneath the deck, Zoro following a few steps behind. He lights a cigarette as soon as the trap door clanks shut.
A beat of silence, and then —
“Wow, that island really, really sucked!” Luffy says, turning back to his crew.
Sanji lets out a puff of smoke as Usopp slumps down against the main mast with a groan.
“You can say that again.”
“What happened?” Robin asks.
Sanji sighs, shaking his head, “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”
Below deck, Chopper dabs at your wounds with expert ease as you sit very still on the kitchen island and Zoro watches from the sofa, arms crossed loosely over his chest.
“These surface wounds aren’t that bad but…” Chopper trails off, his eyes running over the network of old scars that mar your skin, layers and layers of them — down your arms and along your torso.
“It’s fine,” you say, your voice smooth as polished marble, “I’m —” you swallow, “I’m fine.”
And if it weren’t for the hiccup, the slight hitch in your breath, you would’ve been utterly convincing. Your expression is flat, your voice, even more so.
Across the room, Zoro makes disbelieving noise, “If it hurts, just say so. Chopper’ll fix it.”
“I’m… I’m fine,” you say again, tugging at the sleeve of your torn shift, your tone now a bit more honest, your words tired and resigned. Zoro looks to Chopper, who gives a faint nod of acquiescence before Zoro stands up and jerks his head towards the door.
“Cook’s right — you should wash up before dinner.”
You follow him down the hallway, through a small door that leads into a washroom that’s much cleaner than one might expect a ship’s bathroom to be. A large, wooden soaking tub sits in the middle of the room, and a clean change of clothes has already been laid out on a bench next to the bath.
Zoro grunts after he takes a once-over of the room, satisfied that all’s in order, and makes to leave.
You tug at his sleeve, head lowered.
“Can you…” you lick your lips, “can you stay?”
Zoro glances down at your fingers curled into his shirt sleeve before his eyes flick up to find your face. You’re looking at some indiscriminate point over his left shoulder, but your lips are trembling and your jaw is set.
He lets out a long breath, slowly twisting his body towards the room and you.
“Sure.”
He makes a show of turning around to face the door as you slip off your clothes and sink into the steaming bath water. A long exhale and the light slosh of water is all the indication he gets that it’s safe to turn back around.
He leans himself against the door, his swords propped on his shoulder, his head lolled back, his eyes closed.
He listens to the soft sounds of the water, to the faint splashes as you rub the grit and grime from your skin, inch by inch.
“We were only allowed to bathe as a reward for doing a good deed.”
Your voice makes him open his eyes, his gaze focusing in on the shape of you, nearly submerged in the bathtub, your hair slick and sticking to your pale shoulders. Even in this dim lighting, he can see the patterns your scars make against your skin. Water glimmers along the contours of your face as you run your palms along your cheeks, rubbing at them till they’re ruddy with color.
Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Quit bein’ so rough,” he moves forward without thinking, reaching out a hand to help you with some of the more stubborn pieces of dirt but he pauses, realizing how utterly still you’ve gone.
You stare at him for a long moment before relaxing back into the water and shifting towards the edge of the tub to allow him better access.
He runs a callused thumb along your cheekbones, wiping away the remaining dirt there.
“What was a ‘good deed’?” he asks, letting the tips of his fingers skim the warm water’s surface.
You shrug, “Mostly anything that made Mr. Fox happy… so all of us would —” you take another breath, your hand opening and closing beneath the surface of the still bath water, “we’d spend all our waking hours trying to think of something — anything — that’d please him. No matter how small… no matter how… terrible.”
“This Mr. Fox… what was his deal, anyway?”
You stare down into the dark water, now rapidly cooling from warm to lukewarm.
You take a deep breath, lifting a hand out of the water to distort the image of your ghostly reflection.
“He… was a liar. Except… he could make all his lies sound like the truth.”
“It was uncanny, really,” Sanji says, now at full throttle in the kitchen prepping for dinner service, Usopp lounging on sofa, his feet propped up on the hanging table.
Chopper and Robin both frown.
“What do you mean?” Robin asks.
“It was like… the guy could say anything and make it sound like the truth — even though you knew somewhere inside you that it can’t be real. Like — he could tell you the sky was green and every single part of you would believe him, even though you’re outside and starin’ up at the sky.”
“Yeah! Like he said I’d never be able to beat him and… for a second, I kinda almost believed him!” Luffy offers, munching on a bushel of apples and spitting out the seeds.
Robin’s brows furrow, tapping at her chin with a thin finger.
“It sounds like the Uso-Uso no Mi…”
“Ugh, what a weird, scary power…” Chopper shudders, shaking his head, his tiny hooved hands coming up to cup his cheeks, “I’m sure it’d mess with people’s heads!”
“It sure did. But he also used it to feed false information to the Marines,” Nami says, slipping through the half-opened door to join the rest of the crew on the sofa, “ran a series of taverns that just so happened to be situated in major Marine towns.”
Sanji glances up from a huge, steaming pan of paella, a cigarette caught between his teeth.
“So what was his end goal then? Just to fuck over the Marines?”
Back in the bathroom, you run your fingers along the edge of the tub as if playing an invisible piano.
“Power, domination… I don’t think he had a goal or purpose… I think… he just got off on it…”
Your voice is light, conversational, almost as if you were talking about the weather. But Zoro sees the glazed look in your eyes, the tightness at the edges of your lips.
“You called me a liar,” he says, reaching into the tub and flicking you lightly with a bit of water.
You blink, a smile threatening the corners of your mouth.
“Yeah… guess I did.”
“I wasn’t lying.”
He pulls out his hand and wipes it on a towel, leaning back to stare at you.
You shrug, “Sometimes… people lie to others, and sometimes, people lie to themselves. It’s the ones we tell ourselves that are always the most convincing.”
“I don’t lie. ‘Specially not to myself.”
You let out a tiny laugh, “But I guess… sometimes, if you believe in something hard enough… it’ll just start to be come the truth.”
There’s a note of… something in your voice that Zoro doesn’t like, but he can’t put a name to the feeling so he stays quiet as you continue the laborious work of scrubbing your skin clean, till all the water in the tub’s gone cold.
The rest of the evening passes as most evenings on the Merry do after a big fight — with a lot of food and even more booze. With music and laughter, and new crew member, sitting in the corner, watching mostly and smiling occasionally. No one pushes you, though Sanji does make a valiant effort in getting you to admit to your favorite foods, and Luffy tries two or three times to drag you into the more raucous celebrations (mostly involving way too much meat being roasted on a spike).
No one questions the way Zoro never wanders too far.
No one questions the way your eyes track him around the room, or how, even when Robin and Nami finally get a laugh out of you, you still instinctively searched for Zoro’s figure till you’ve found it in the other corner, a bottle caught between his lips, his eyes half-shut but his gaze caught on you like a fish to a seaman’s hook.
act ii: everything and nothing
A week passes, and then another. And you slowly, but surely, come out of your shell — it’s a strange sort of blossoming, the way you reveal yourself in shards and pieces, jagged and jarring. The shrapnel bits of your personality peaking out amidst the flotsam and jetsam of all your manifold defense mechanisms.
You’re a brilliant liar, but even better at spotting a lie, and it’s a thing that none of the crew had ever really thought about until you’d come along, casually poking holes in their daily deceits.
“Mm! These pancakes are perfect! Just the way I like them!”
“The new dress looks beautiful, Nami.”
“I absolutely did not finish the last bag of popcorn… Luffy did it!”
You clear your throat.
“Okay fine… the pancakes were really good but… but I like them… sweeter.”
“The dress is… well, everything looks gorgeous on you, of course, you know that Nami! But — the color… clashes just a tiny little bit with your… hair.”
“I might’ve uh… taken a few bites out of the popcorn bag… last night… but I was keeping watch and I needed to keep my energy up!”
Robin titters, a sphinx-like smile spreading across her lips.
“Apparently, 60% of people lie at least once every 10 minutes,” she says, casually taking a sip of orange juice as Zoro runs through his daily training regime, seemingly unbothered by the chaos currently taking place on the main deck regarding the “popcorn incident”.
“Dunno why people bother,” Zoro says, working through a set of single-armed burpees.
“I suppose it’s just human nature. We want other people to like us… so we say what we think they might want to hear, instead of what we really think. It’s harmless, mostly,” Robin remarks, leaning back against a white planter box, basking in the shade of the tangerine trees.
“Till it isn’t,” Zoro says, finishing up his workout and pushing himself up for a long stretch. He casts his eyes once more towards where you’re now laughing as Usopp tries to think of some new tall tale to tell.
It only takes you half a second to turn your head, and Zoro wonders at the kind of life you might’ve led to make you so sensitive to another person’s gaze. What must’ve happened to warrant this kind of alertness? But then again, he’d been a hunter long enough to know exactly what being hunted looks like.
He caught a glimpse of it at the compound but — still, his fingers itch toward his swords, his jaw clenches tight enough for Robin to cock her head and raise a brow.
“Yes… until it isn’t…” she echoes, her eyes also trailing towards you.
Zoro holds your gaze for a second before rolling his shoulders and looking away, squinting at the far horizon.
“Oi. Looks like trouble.”
Robin straightens, and a second later, Chopper sounds the alarm from the crow’s nest.
“Marines! Marines!”
There is the shink of swords being drawn, the gentle echo of Robin’s voice as her arms multiply. There’s canon fire and a lot of yelling. But at the end, there’s only bodies and blood and the tattered remains of the Marine’s ship, bobbing in the stained sea below them.
“Should we go after them?” Sanji asks, lighting up a cig, watching as the tiny emergency boat rows off into the distance.
“Nah. We’ll be alright!” Luffy says, wiping a hand across his nose.
Zoro turns towards you, sheathing his swords.
“You alright?”
“I’m fine,” you say, your voice immediately taking on an unctuous sheen that makes Zoro take a step closer.
“You hurt anywhere?” he runs an appraising eye down your form and nods in the knowledge that at least you don’t look hurt.
“No… I —” you chew down on your bottom lip, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your arms. But you back away from him the moment he tries to take a step forward.
“Hey — quit that,” he taps at your wrist with the hilt of his sword, the touch hard but not harsh, forcing you to pull away.
“It’s — I’m — I’m alright,” you say, insistent and mollifying. Zoro runs his thumb against the hilt of his blades and scoffs.
“Liar,” he says, tossing the word casually back at you in a way that makes your breath hitch. Then, he turns, and marches below decks to tend to his own wounds.
A deafening silence rings out around you as you stare down at the ships blood-drenched planks before Robin places a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“C’mon now — lets get your back looked at.”
Below decks, you find Zoro dabbing gingerly at a large slash on his right arm.
“Here, you’ve missed a spot —” you reach out to take the iodine soaked cloth from Zoro’s hand, only to have him jerk away. You flinch back, wide-eyed.
Zoro softens, if only ever so slightly.
“I’m fine,” he says, a harsh edge to his voice as he goes back to trying to twist around himself enough to see the spot he’s missed. You purse your lips, watching him for a second, two seconds, three — before you glance back at the place Robin had been only to realize that she’d gone.
“May… I?” you reach out your hand, palm up, tentative and imploring. But you hold yourself still, waiting for Zoro to make the next move. And he does, eventually, sighing as he turns back around to drop the piece of cloth into your palm.
You reach forward as he turns to his side, offering up his arm as you slowly start to wipe away at the bits of dried blood caking his skin to reveal the raw, red gash, the angry, raised flesh around it. You lean forward, blowing slightly as you daub at the wound, making your way down his bicep till the entire cut’s been coated in iodine.
“There. All done.”
You lean back to toss the cloth into the sink but Zoro stops you. He catches your wrist in his good hand and with a slight tug, has you toppling forward towards his chest.
“Turn around.”
His voice is soft, but firm. And it leaves no room for protests as you stare at him for a long moment before sighing and resigning yourself to your fate. You turn to show him your back.
A disgruntled huff is all you get before you hear the distinct sounds of Zoro rummaging around the first aide kit for a fresh piece of cloth, and the pop of the iodine bottle opening again.
“Who did this?” he asks as he slowly reaches out to tug a thin spike from your skin, small as a needle and just as sharp. You bite back a wince.
“The porcupine guy…” your voice trails off as Zoro grunts.
“Right.”
He tugs out another spike; it tinks against the metal of the sink as he tosses it away. A brief sting, and then the cooling feeling of the iodine cloth.
After a few minutes of working in silence, Zoro sighs.
“Geez, he really got you bad, didn’t he?”
“Not really,” you say, and you feel Zoro’s hands pause.
“No?”
You shake your head, “I’ve… been through much worse… and lived to tell the tale so…”
Zoro doesn’t need to ask to know that you’re talking about your past on the island, inside that windowless compound. He can see it in the scars that mar nearly the entirety of your back, the criss-cross lines of what looks like knife-wounds, the occasional puckered marks that look suspiciously like burns. He steels himself then, and continues to work — plucking out a spike and cleaning out the wound.
“You were right,” he says, when he finally finishes cleaning up your back and you both straighten to face each other. He wipes his hands clean and winces slightly as he flexes his newly bandaged arm.
“Right about what?” your voice is innocent, but the flash in your eyes tells him that you know exactly what he’s talking about.
“That first day — I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t… make sure that no one ever hurt you again.”
His fingers curl into fists at his sides and you can see the muscle ticking in his jaw as he clenches his teeth.
You reach out, tracing a thumb along his jawline. When you pull back, there’s a small daub of blood on your finger and you wipe it away without breaking his gaze.
“No, you couldn’t but… you tried.”
Zoro scoffs, “Tryin’s not good enough.”
“No,” you jerk up to glare at him, your voice harsh in a way that he’s only ever heard right after they’d rescued you, the edges of your words raw and ragged as a serrated blade, “trying is everything.”
interlude: truth or dare
It gets better after that, and you grow and bloom and grow some more. Zoro does too, though in his own way — he gets stronger, gets faster, hits harder. And though you two never quite agree on anything, he is always by your side, and you’re somehow always by his.
“’M not even a lil drunk —”
“Liar~” you singsong, giggling as Zoro shakes his head, tipping the remains of a bottle of sake back down his throat before wiping at his lips with the back of his hand.
“Mm… ‘s that all I am to you? Just another guy who lies?” Zoro swings lazily on the hammock hung on the main deck, his eyes half-lidded and alight with the dancing firelight.
“Stupid question — drink,” you answer, bringing our own bottle up to your lips.
Zoro laughs, quiet and pleased as he reaches for a new bottle.
“Alright then — truth or dare?” he asks, uncorking the new bottle and reaching out to offer you some. You bat him away, your movements languid and heavy, your back pressed against a heavy wooden barrel, one leg propped up to support your arm, the other stretched out long and lithe in front of you.
“Truth,” you say, your voice easy, your smile even more so.
“Alright then — do you trust me?” Zoro’s voice dips, and your eyes flash up. There’s a sobering light somewhere behind the alcohol soaked haze clouding his gaze and you can tell by the steadiness of his hands that he’s not nearly as drunk as he might seem.
“What do you mean?” you ask, casually evading the question.
Zoro tuts, “’S not an answer.”
“I’m asking for a clarification.”
Zoro shakes his head, taking another soft swig, “Simple question — do you trust me?”
You purse your lips, mulling over the myriad answers you could provide and make it sound like the truth. But that’s not really how the game goes. So instead, you take a deep breath.
“I — I want to,” and it’s the way your voice breaks that makes it honest, the way you can’t hold the truth in by the seams of your careful cadence, no matter how hard you try to smooth out the ragged edges.
“So… that’s a no,” Zoro says, keeping his tone even. You can’t help reaching for him — imploring.
“Not yet but —”
“Why?”
“Why… what?”
“I guess…” Zoro leans back, casting his eyes up at the wild, dark sky, careening above the ship in an ecstatic spread of stars and, long sinuous, moon-silvered clouds, “why d’you want to trust me? Doesn’t seem like something you’d be eager to do after… y’know, everything.”
You lick your lips and stare into the empty bottom of your glass.
“Honestly?” you say, “because you’re kind of a shit liar —”
Zoro lets out a soft, rumbling laugh, but doesn’t deny it.
“But… also because you’re the only person I’ve met who… who treats words so carefully — I mean…” you swallow, leaning forward slightly as Zoro drops his gaze back down to you, “it’s like — my whole life has just been people saying things they don’t really mean, and never meaning what they say, and then trying to figure out what’s really happening — trying to say the right thing, not the thing you mean but the thing you think they’d want to hear —” your breath quickens, “and — and if you don’t or if you’re bad at it, then bad things happen to you and the people you care about —”
“Hey.”
A hand presses down on your shoulder and you gasp, your breath knifing through your chest as you clasp your shaking hands to your sternum.
“Breathe. You’re okay.”
You nod, unable to say anything as Zoro sits in front of you, his hand like an anchor in a summer storm, keeping you tethered.
You breathe and take stock of your limbs — feet, legs, hands, arms. It’s then that you realize Zoro’s crouching in front of you, your drink glass resting by his side.
“Thanks,” you say, nodding as he gives your shoulder a slight squeeze before pulling away. Physical touch has never been one of your strong points, and it seems Zoro’s learned that without you ever having to tell him.
It’s strange — the sudden knowledge that somehow, his understanding of you has been wordless and implicit. Complete, from nearly the day the Straw Hats had picked you up on that island. You’d never had to explain, never had to draw your boundaries.
And yet somehow, he knew. As if he’d always just known.
“Truth or dare?” you ask him, your voice barely a whisper, shifting to make more space for him on the dark deck of the ship’s forecastle. Zoro sits down in front of you, crossing his legs.
“Dare.”
You don’t fight the grin as it lifts the side of your lips.
The quiet pulses between the pair of you like a heartbeat.
“Tell me a secret.”
“Gotta be more specific,” Zoro’s grin lilts to mirror your own.
“Any secret,” you say, “something you… something you wouldn’t otherwise say out loud.”
“Isn’t that what a secret’s supposed to be? Something you don’t say?”
You laugh, tasting the sound like a mouthful of champagne, bubbling up through you and spiraling towards the endless summer’s night.
“Quit stalling!”
“Think I wanna kiss you.”
A gasp slices through the air between you. You feel the weight of it in your throat, the white-hot flicker of his gaze as he glances down at your lips. You wet them without thinking, and as Zoro lean’s in, you can sense the night around you slowly coalescing into something warm, something solid. Like a marble clutched in a child’s palm, or a pearl held on an oyster’s velvet tongue.
“Truth or dare?” he asks.
He stops just short of your lips, his nose almost grazing yours. You can nearly taste the sweet sake on his breath —
“Dare.”
“Close your eyes.”
Your lashes flutter and for a second, an eternity revolves in the space between your heartbeats. Faintly, you register the gentle rocking of the ship as an indolent wave catches her starboard side.
You close your eyes.
For a second, there is space. For a second, there is breath. For a second, there is gravity. And then — all of that disappears. All of it eclipsed by the kiss. And then, the kiss is all there is.
All there was, and ever will be.
There’s a graze of fingers against skin, the bump of legs against legs against thighs against knees — there’s knuckles and noses and hair falling, hair being tugged into closing fists. There’s the clink-clink-clink of earrings, and the clatter-clap-clat of swords and hilts and rough, wooden planks.
There’s the dull thunk and baseline rumble of a glass being knocked over and rolling away.
But all of that is afterthought. All of that is supplement, a postscript, marginalia and footnotes.
Because there, then — there is only the kiss, and nothing but the kiss: a catastrophe of inevitability, smooth as a secret, and whisper-sweet.
When the pair of you pull away, there’s a chaos of wings against your ribcage.
There’s the honeyed, lambent light in Zoro’s eyes as he grins down at you.
“Truth — or dare,” a breathless gasp punctuates your words.
Zoro’s grin only grows as he tips your chin back between his thumb and forefinger.
“Dare.”
It’s only then that you realize his cheeks are wine-flushed, his chest rising and falling nearly as fast as yours. You swallow slow and track his eyes as he watches the pale bob of your throat.
“Kiss me again.”
act iii: fool’s gold
It takes all of three hours for Sanji to get something out of Zoro, and three days before Robin and Nami manage to wheedle something out of you.
“No seriously! Things have been different since that one party we had —” Nami presses her palm to the kitchen table, here eyes wide. Robin sits on the couch, her expression one of mixed amusement and near academic interest.
“Different how?” you reach into the cookie jar and fish out a crumbled corner of what used to be a double chocolate chip cookie.
“Ugh! You know what I mean!” Nami turns to Robin, motioning towards you, “Help me here!”
Robin laughs, tossing up a graceful hand, “I suppose something does seem… changed.”
“Something?” you ask, licking at a smudge of chocolate on your thumb.
“Well…” Robin says, drawing out the syllable and making to examine the nails on her long, thin fingers, “it’s definitely not nothing.”
You allow yourself a smile, “Something’s definitely not nothing.”
Nami lets out a frustrated groan, but she’s smiling too.
It’s been long enough that you’d learned to relax around them, and you’d since also learned that nothing is so sacred as the sanctity of sisterhood. That bonds between friends might be forged in fire and brimstone, but bonds between women are forged in cinder and smoke — in the wreckage of after, when the fighting’s been done and all that’s left is the mending.
“What’s all this giggling about?” Zoro ducks into the half-ajar door, staring at the three of you.
Nami cocks an eyebrow; Robin shrugs.
You, for your part, smile and bat your lashes.
“Oh nothing,” you say.
“Just girl-talk,” offers Nami.
“Nothing to interest a legendary swordsman like yourself,” Robin polishes off.
Zoro’s eyes narrow, his gaze jumping between the three of you before it lands on you and he scoffs.
“Yeah, whatever. We’re docking soon.”
And that’s all he offers before sauntering back out of the room, leaving the door swinging behind him, but not before you catch sight of the redness at the tips of his ears as he hurries away.
You give it a beat of three seconds before pushing to your feet and following after, humming to yourself. Behind you, Nami and Robin share a knowing look.
“Definitely not nothing,” Robin says as she stands to follow you.
The island, if it can even be called that, is nothing more than a rough conglomeration of steep cliffs strapped together by a thin band of land barely wide enough to be categorized as a beach.
“Well! This is something!” Luffy declares, his arms akimbo on his hips as he stares at the island.
“Yeah… it’s uh… something for sure,” Usopp agrees, making a face as he squints at the cluster of rocks that look more like the jagged edges of a broken bottle than any kind of proper land formation.
“We’ll just anchor here for the night… get some good rest, and then...” Sanji’s words trail off, interrupted by a ghostly wail that rises from the gathering of dark cliffs, turning them into an echo chamber until it seems to rumble through the sand beneath them.
“… gold, all gold! — no, not a liar — please!”
A shiver etches itself up your spine and instinctively, you wrap your arms around yourself.
Zoro steps out in front of you, as if to shield you from whatever might come. His thumb presses against the hilt of his swords, his shoulders tense as corded wire.
“Uh… everyone else heard that too, right?” Chopper asks, peaking out from around Robin’s legs.
“Yep. Definitely not just you,” Sanji confirms.
Luffy grins, “Seems like there’s someone else on this island! Maybe they can show us around!”
Time passes by strangely on the island — one minute, the sun is still hanging low on the far horizon, and the next, the sky is the color of a bullet wound, darkness seeping in around the horizon.
“Whoever’s here on the island — they sure aren’t making it — easy —” Sanji grunts as he hoists himself up a slippery piece of rock face, sweat glistening on his forehead as he squints into the looming blackness.
“Luffy? You sure you know where we’re going?” Nami shouts, her voice ringing back in a way that makes everyone wince and cover their ears.
Zoro grabs your elbow a second before you slip, fingers digging into your flesh even as you steady yourself against him.
“Sorry — thanks,” you say, unsure of which one you really mean.
“Yeah! I can smell something — like a campfire! And… cooking!” Luffy’s voice calls back from somewhere in the gathering dark. Everyone shares a glance before bracing themselves and trudging on.
By the time you all catch up to Luffy, no one is certain of what time it is, only that it’s dark. But the kind of darkness that seems to cling to the skin — a darkness so dense it starts to take on shape and weight.
It presses in around you and you feel your breaths shortening in your chest.
Beside you, Zoro reaches out to brace a hand at the small of your back.
“Oh! I see a light ahead! C’mon!” Luffy’s voice rings out from somewhere up ahead, followed by the patter of sandals on stone. The rest of you follow, and then all too suddenly, light flickers to life in what seems to be a huge, subterranean cave deep within the cliffs of the island. It casts stark shadows against the slick, cavernous walls.
You frown, goosebumps rising along your arms and legs.
But before you have time to dwell on the wrongness of something there, Luffy’s voice snags your attention like a thread on an errant splinter.
“Hi! Oh, wow — that looks delicious!”
You turn a corner to find Luffy hunkering down over a blazing campfire and the silhouette of someone sitting opposite him, a sharp spike held out in front of them, turning slowly over the flickering flames.
“Oh… please… come join me — sit and listen to a story — I have so many stories — so many adventures to share!” the figure across the fire seems to quiver with the dancing flames, his voice filling up the whole of the cave, loud and boisterous and eager. But strange and hollow too.
You frown, chewing on the insides of your cheeks.
Ahead of you, Usopp and Chopper both take tentative seats next to Luffy, who had cheerfully plopped down next to the fire.
“Wow, this looks great! Are you here by yourself? I’m here with my crew! Are you a pirate too?” Luffy asks, his endless enthusiasm pouring from him like a spring.
Robin, Nami, and Sanji all hold back, but you take a step forward, and then another. Something compelling you towards the voice, pulling you closer. There’s a desperation, a loneliness with which you’re all too familiar — you inch closer, and then closer, till you’re almost level with Luffy, and you lower yourself to the ground next to him, Zoro dropping down beside you, his knee pressing against your leg in a silent reassurance.
“Come… come closer! It’s a good story — I promise!”
“Truth,” you mutter, just beneath your breath. Beside you, Zoro lets out a puff of breath, though his stance doesn’t loosen.
Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of the rest of the crew drawing just a step closer.
“Once upon a time… there was a city on an island where everything, and I mean everything was made of gold!”
The figure across the fire sounds cheered, elated even. Behind you, you feel Nami take half a step closer. Cold seeps into your veins despite the warm, dancing flames, and your fingers dig into the hard packed earth beneath you.
“I found it — I did! With my crew — the best sailors and seamen around! But the king… he was greedy! And he wanted his own men to take the treasures, so he forced me to lead them to the city again —”
“Truth,” you say again, but something in the tone of the figure’s voice makes you frown.
“Except… the city had gone… and there was nothing left… nothing but lies!”
You shudder back, swallowing hard. All around you, the darkness presses in with long, thin tendrils like so many loving fingers. The fire flares up, casting sparks up towards the cave’s ceiling, where stalagmites hang like broken teeth in a petrified monster’s maw.
“Oh… don’t be scared… come back — I won’t hurt you —”
“Liar!” you spit, the word scraping its way out of your throat.
Zoro leaps to his feet just as Luffy does the same. The fire flares again, a second before snuffing itself out, but in that second, you finally catch sight of the figure, hooded in shadow, sitting across from you — it has the shape of a man, tall and broad, but the limbs of a spindle-legged monster. It wears the darkness like a cloak, with beady, red eyes and a too-wide mouth.
“Don’t! Call me a liar! That’s what they called me — that’s what they called when they killed me! KILLED ME FOR TELLING THE TRUTH!”
You scramble back, Zoro nearly lifting you off the ground in his haste to pull you away. Luffy whips back his arm and swings it forward but all it catches is tendrils of shadow.
“Hey! That’s not nice!” he shakes off his fist, frowning as he stares at the bits of wriggling darkness still clinging to his skin.
“Run!” you shout as everyone bolts for the lightless path you all took to get to the heart of the cave.
“NOT A LIAR! NOT A LIAR! I FOUND IT! THE CITY! BELIEVE ME! BELIEVE ME!”
You clap your hands around your ears and race for what you hope is the exit. Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of Zoro’s blades whistling through the air*.*
“Damnit! How’dyou fight a shadow? There’s nothin’ to hit!”
“Quit tryna hit it and just run!” Sanji’s voice answers a second before he breezes passed you.
“Why don’t you believe me? Why?!”
“We — I believe you!” you shout, your chest a thundering mess of footfalls and scrambling bodies, and against all instinct, you turn around to face the darkness again, cupping your hands around your mouth, “I believe you! I know — I know you’re telling the truth!”
“What’re you doing?” Zoro asks, leveling himself by your side, his arm pressing against yours. Behind you, the thinnest sliver of light is creeping into the cave from what you assume is the entrance.
Morning. Has it really been that long?
Time is the greatest liar, you remember, suddenly, violently, the thought tearing through you like teeth.
“I — he’s telling the truth,” you say through gritted teeth, even as you take a few steps back. Inside the cave, the figure seems to shrink back from the encroaching light.
“What truth?” Zoro asks, his blade held aloft, his stance wide and ready.
“All of it,” you say, forcing your voice to be gentle, turning your face back towards the darkness, “I know, I can hear it — I know you’re telling the truth — about the island, the city — all of it!”
“Yes… all I wanted was to get back to the city… but… no one believe me… and I died… I died for it!”
“I know, and I’m sorry… no one should be punished for telling the truth —” your voice cracks.
“I tried!”
“I know…” you say as the figure shrinks and shrinks and shrinks and the light behind you grows and grows and grows, until you can feel the warm seeping into the skin of your back.
“And trying is everything,” you say, biting your lip as Zoro wraps an arm around your waist.
“Come with me… I’ll take you to the city — we can go together!”
You shake your head, heat prickling at your eyes as you turn away from the darkness of the cave and towards the light of the oncoming day.
“Liar…” the word falls from you like a rock, or a tear, cast off the cliff that greets you and Zoro as you both stare over the edge. The rest of the crew is nowhere to be found, but Zoro’s arm is still around your waist, and you can feel his warm breath by your cheek.
“Hey — do you trust me?”
You look up; in the dawning, morning light, Zoro, with his sun-kissed skin and dark moss hair appears to be limned in gold.
And maybe it’s the air, or the sea, or simply the angry pieces of this jagged, left-behind island of shadows like broken teeth trying to tear apart the sky, conducting his voice into a cacophony of echoes that sing and scream through the crags and eves of the valley beneath — but the whole island seems to reverberate with the question —
Do you trust me?
You close your eyes and breath. When you open them again, your heartbeat is steady. And when you speak, the rising sun streaks the tips of the saw-toothed peaks in strokes of molten gold. The valleys beneath you conduct your answer into an entire single-syllabled symphony —
Yes.
You feel his arm tighten around your waist, the wind as it tangles soft fingers in your hair. All around you, everything is light, and light, and light.
“Jump!”
You close your eyes, and jump.
-----
footnotes/appendix
uso-uso no mi translates to "lie-lie fruit"; i made it up bc it would be too op to have in the actual animanga i think
the "acts" refer to a classical 3-act structure that most movies/plays/scripts are written in: setup, confrontation, and resolution... with a smattering of other things sprinkled in for ~vibes~
in much of classical japanese and chinese mythology, foxes are associated with trickers and lies, often turning into beautiful women to deceive men, luring them into forests and mountains before taking their lives
the "figure" in the last scene is... can you guess? noland! kudos to anyone who figured it out as they were reading *\ (>o<) /*
did i absolutely take the "do you trust me" line from disney's aladdin??? HELL YEAH i did !!!! tru trust is my kink u__u
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airbendertendou · 2 years ago
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a small compilation of moments between autistic!reader + connor happy disability pride month <3
anon requested : hi! i was wondering if you could do something with connor and the autistic reader and like them going nonverbal and how he would handle that? You don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna! :)
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please do not use this as a way to self-diagnose. having one thing in common does not necessarily mean you are autistic. im not a therapist or doctor, if you think you’re on the spectrum, talk to them. <3
if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.
temperature irregulation ♥︎
hank was a firm believer in a cold house. when the summer season came and brought a heatwave with it, the older man wouldn’t allow anything other than a brisk, chilly living room.
it was often you’d come over to go over old cases and study with hank. interning with the detroit police department was fun — the academy, however, you could live without. you’d learned to dress warm when visiting hank’s house, having a hard time warming up once you were cold.
“here,” a thicker sweater is placed over the couch, the sleeve laying on your shoulder. you take it without thought, swapping your thinner one for the new one. connor smiles at the pattern on your fuzzy socks, the sight of your toes curling in delight at the warmth bringing something tender to his brain. “better?”
you nod with a hum, “thanks, detective.”
hank rolls his eyes, hiding the curl of his lips at your obliviousness. “anyways, as i was saying—”
[interrupted] routine ♥︎
every day at 12:10 pm, you’d wander into the breakroom for a snack and drink refill. connor didn’t mean to memorize your specific regimen — but after watching you do the same thing for a week straight, it stuck to his mind.
you loitered in the doorway to the breakroom, peeking in occassionally to see if it’d emptied out any. gavin caught your gaze, rolling his eyes at your hesitance. it was then you spotted the mug in his hands — your mug, the one you always used. your frown deepened.
connor budged his way into the crowd, bumping into gavin and causing his drink to spill. every curse leaving the human’s mouth went ignored — connor only watched as you cowered away from gavin’s angry steps as he left. grabbing the dropped mug, connor rinsed it four times before holding it out to you shyly.
you crept into the breakroom, grabbing the handle of the mug and shooting the android a thankful grin.
stimming with pressure ♥︎
hank opened the door to his house with a sigh. connor’s eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head, questioning the elder silently. hank leans against the door, “[name]’s been here a while, s’all. won’t leave my bathtub.”
a safe zone, connor concludes, somewhere small and compact ; where you could see every corner and every threat. he makes his way to the bathroom without another thought, pausing at the sight of you.
your eyes are closed, face crumpled in displeasure as you clench and unclench your fists in a pattern. connor knocks on the door, announcing his presence without startling you. your eyes fly open, “hello, detective.”
“you can call me connor, if you’d like.” the android steps further into the bathroom slowly, allowing you to object if you need to. your eyes stay on him — his thirium pump stutters in his chest. “anything i can do to help?”
taking in a deep breath, you puff your cheeks as you release the air. “maybe. if you don’t think it’s weird.”
connor stares down at you, his upper lip curled in hesitance as you lay in hank’s bed. you adjust yourself, wiggling around until you’ve splayed your limbs where you want them. you blink up at him, “well?”
“it is a little... strange.” connor tries to be nice, he really does. but asking an android to lay on you — to put their full weight on you — he’s concered. “i will crush you.”
you roll your eyes, “i have a weighted blanket at home ; it’s no different.”
“i weigh quite a bit more than—”
“are you going to lay on me or not, connor?”
maybe it was the sound of you saying his name for the first time ; maybe it was the way you looked so defeated. whatever it was, connor found himself laying on you as gently as he could. the relaxation was immediate — he could feel the breath of relief you let out ; the way your body sagged.
you fell asleep that way — with connor holding his breath and tensing up the closer you got.
sensory overload ♥︎
the scene you were going to was a lot. it was nighttime now, the sirens and flashing lights bringing everyone’s attention this way. hank leaves the car first, grumbling as he goes. the sound that leaks through his open door causes you to whimper.
connor turns his head to you, “everything alright?”
your gaze hasn’t left the window as you squint, blinking at all of the lights. you gulp before biting your lip. “i’ll be fine. this is what i signed up for.”
you’re barely out of the car and already wincing at the noise and the lights. you can’t see hank ; can’t hear or understand anything being said around you. the world is blinking in hues of red and blue, wailing sirens going off with every flash of the lights.
the sound grows muffled as soft and sturdy hands cup your ears. a thumb moves from your ear briefly, just long enough for you to hear a whisper. “close your eyes and i’ll lead you into the house. that’s where the lieutenant is.”
trusting connor’s words — a little too easily — you squeeze your eyes shut. your hands go up to cover his, sealing your ears from the harsh sounds around you. stumbling a little here and there, you eventually feel a difference in temperature as you enter the house.
letting out a sigh, your shoulders moving with the motion, slowly your eyes peel open. you glance at connor, ignoring the tenderness of his gaze. “thanks, connor.”
he lets out a deep breath, ignoring the sly grin hank sends his way. “no problem, [name].” 
verbal shutdown ♥︎
it happened so quick. your safe foods had vanished from their designated cabinet ; your chair’s wheel was squeaking incessently ; hank hadn’t shown up today. everything was piling on and you finally exploded.
the evidence locker was empty as you shakily typed in hank’s password. you hit the wrong button a few times, squeezing your eyes together at the little beeps. your breathing picks up — you hold it in your chest and shake your hands, releasing the tension built inside you.
you all but crawl into the secure room, your back hitting the wall as you sit down. your eyes squeeze shut again and you go through the motions, choosing the less destructive ways to calm yourself down.
none of them work.
when connor finds you, you’re drawing shapes on the floor with your finger. you’ve curled into yourself, not making a sound ; your usual means of comfort absent from your lips. he walks to you cautiously, “[name]? hank has returned. he’s asking to see you.”
you don’t move ; not a sound falls from your lips. connor sits in front of you, crossing his legs as he waits. from his suit pocket comes a ring of multicolored notecards — your eyes flash to his at the sight of them. connor holds them out further so that you can see them properly. “want to use these?”
a miniscule nod, but it’s enough to make him smile. “alright,” he flicks through the blue cards — feelings. stopping at your set of upset verbs, he slides the ring your way. “any of these describe how you’re feeling?”
a shaky finger hits the word overstimulated before dragging over to panic. connor nods, flipping to the pink set — solutions. “what do you want to do? go home ; nap ; have a snack ; get your puzzle book ; coloring book...” connor holds them up to you, reading out each one until you nod — except you don’t. pausing, connor speaks up again, “want me to leave?”
you shake your head. slowly, your hand crawls across the floor until it meets his. you nudge his hand, curling your fingers under his. connor holds his breath, adjusting your fingers until you’re holding hands properly. his eyes stay to the floor, “this is okay, too. let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
emotional regulation ft. lots of crying ♥︎
“connor,” your voice brings him out of his work. standing beside his desk, connor watches as you sway side to side. he tilts his head and it makes your eyes water. “i’m going to cry.”
that was his cue to take you into his arms. connor stands to do so, gathering your body against his and rocking you side to side slowly. your body hiccups a few times, sniffles leaving your nose occassionally. you seem to calm down even more as he rubs your back soothingly — connor’s led light flashes yellow as he stores that information for later.
you pull away with a deep breath, rubbing your face with the hoodie you’re wearing. connor frowns, “better?”
you nod, “needed that. thank you.”
“want to tell me what upset you? only if you want to.”
connor never knew what to expect your answer to be. sometimes you just shook your head and snuggled close to him again. other times, you did talk about why you were crying and it made connor realize the extent of human emotions. 
“no more chocolate in the snack cabinet.”
“had a nice dream.”
“hank is wearing yellow.”
“it’s such a pretty day today!”
“too much noise.”
“gavin cut his hair.”
you let out another sniffle, lips pouting in thought. “not too sure this time. jus’ felt like i needed to cry.”
connor nods to himself, his led light whirring yellow once more. “i’m glad you feel comfortable with me, [name]. i’ll be here if you need another cry.”
you grin, meeting his eyes for a brisk second before reaching out to hold his hand. you swing your entwined hands lightly, grin softening into something gentle. “i know. thanks, con.”
the detective was sure he’d implode because of you soon. just not yet — not when you’re still holding his hand.
——♥︎—— for some reason my brain tells me to only write autistic readers n pair them w connor. like?? work w me here!! anyways. i hope this was okay, remember to take your meds, drink some water and have a nice snack!! airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.
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its-avalon-08 · 9 months ago
Note
This is the anon from breathe baby breathe!!!! Im in love with itt. ok so New one LOL- - lewis hamilton x reader - major angst : on a night out lewis is accused of cheating on reader after tabloids come out - reader is breaking down, sobbing - lewis has been faithful (he was helping another girl who was being bothered by a slimy weird guy) - reader and lewis get into an argeuemnt about trust - lewis is furious that reader does not believe him - storms into the bedroom - y/n comes in and apologises, alot of tears I'm looking forward to it!!!!!! Thanks!
silent cries and salty kisses (lh44)
✦ pairing - lewis hamilton x female!reader
✦ genre - major angst, happy ending
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The fairy lights above the balcony cast a warm glow on the champagne flutes, but the fizz in them did nothing to ease the churning in your stomach. A tabloid headline screamed "Lewis Hamilton Caught Canoodling with Mystery Blonde!" The accompanying picture showed Lewis with a young woman, their heads close, her hand on his arm.
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. One year. One blissful year filled with stolen kisses in his motorhome, whispered secrets under the roar of the engines, late-night talks that stretched into the dawn. Was it all a lie? A sob escaped your lips, hot and raw, shattering the happy chatter around you.
The flat thrummed with a tense silence. You, curled on the plush sofa, clutched the phone, tears blurring the incriminating photos. "Lewis..." your voice was a broken whisper, barely audible. "This... how can you explain this?"
Lewis, pacing like a caged lion, ran a hand through his hair. "Explain what? Look at it, (Y/N)! It's complete bullshit! I barely brushed shoulders with her."
"Barely brushed shoulders?" you scoffed, the sharp edges of the betrayal cutting through your heart. "You're practically making out in that picture! And the caption..." you choked on a sob, "Lewis, a year! How could you?"
"I didn't! (Y/N), for God's sake, wouldn't I tell you? You're the only one for me!" Lewis slammed his fist on the coffee table, frustration boiling over.
"Easy for you to say," you spat, anger flaring amidst the hurt. "The pictures don't lie, Lewis. They never do."
"This time, they are!" He knelt beside the sofa, pleading in his eyes. "Don't you trust me? After everything?"
You looked at him, your gaze wavering. You wanted to believe him, desperately so. But the image of him with another woman, the intimacy in the forced perspective of the photo, gnawed at your trust.
"I... I don't know what to believe anymore, Lewis." Your voice trembled, a fresh wave of tears cascading down your cheeks. "It just... it looks so bad."
Lewis's jaw clenched tight. The anger was no longer directed at the tabloids, but at the wall you were building between yourselves. "Looks bad? (Y/N), all I did was help a girl who was being harassed by some creep!"
"Helped her?" Your voice rose, laced with disbelief. "Helped her how? By cozying up by the bar?"
"Coziness? I was keeping that sleazeball away! She was practically in tears!"
"And you couldn't tell me that?" You threw the crumpled paper at him, a silent accusation.
He caught it mid-air, his eyes blazing with hurt. "Because I didn't think I'd have to justify my every damn move to the woman I love! (Y/N), where's the trust?"
Silence hung heavy in the air, punctuated only by your sniffles. The question hung like a barbed wire fence, separating your fragile foundation. Lewis rose, his frustration simmering.
"Apparently, trust is a one-way street in this relationship." He stormed towards the bedroom, his voice echoing through the room. "Think about it, (Y/N). Because when you do, I expect some damn answers!"
The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you alone with the wreckage of your evening. The sobs returned, a tidal wave of doubt and heartbreak washing over you. You wanted to trust him, you truly did. But the seed of suspicion had been planted, and it wouldn't be easily uprooted. Lewis's words echoed in your mind: "Think about it..."
But what was there to think about? The pictures screamed one truth, his words another. And you were left, stranded in the middle, unsure of where to turn, unsure of who to believe
You were adrift in a sea of your own tears, the crumpled tabloid a soggy mess beside you. Doubts gnawed at you, yet Lewis's pained voice, raw with betrayal, echoed louder. Trust. He’d pleaded for it, and you, blinded by the tabloids’ venom, had failed him.
Then, your phone buzzed. An unknown number. Hesitantly, you answered.
“Hello?”
A shaky voice filled your ear. “Is this (Y/N)? Lewis’s girlfriend?”
Your heart lurched. “Yes, this is she. Who’s this?”
“It’s Sarah,” the voice stammered. “From the bar in Monaco, tonight.” A wave of dread washed over you, but Sarah continued, “I just saw what’s going on in the tabloids, and I had to call. Lewis is a good man. A hero, actually.”
Hero? The word scraped against your raw emotions.
“He saw me being harassed by this… this disgusting guy,” Sarah continued. “Lewis intervened, kept him away. He was so kind, so protective. I was about to cry, I was so scared. Then, the tabloids came in…” Shame clawed at your throat, choking your breath.
“I’m so, so sorry,” you managed to rasp. “I didn’t understand. I… I believed the worst.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Sarah soothed. “Those pictures… they don’t show the whole story. Lewis is a good guy. You’re lucky to have him.”
The line went dead. You stared at the phone, a leaden weight settling in your stomach. Shame and regret coiled around your heart, suffocating you.
You had to see Lewis, had to apologise and beg his forgiveness. Rising on shaky legs, you stumbled towards the bedroom, the silence from within a stark contrast to the storm raging inside you. With a trembling hand, you pushed open the door.
There he was, slumped on the edge of the bed, head buried in his hands. His broad shoulders, usually radiating strength, seemed slumped in defeat. A choked sob escaped your lips.
Lewis’s head snapped up, hurt flickering in his eyes. But before he could speak, you were at his side, collapsing onto the bed beside him. Tears streamed down your face, hot and relentless.
“Lewis, I’m so… so sorry,” you choked out, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Your voice hitched with each sob. “I believed the lies, the pictures. I didn’t trust you. I was a fool.”
Tears streamed down your face, blurring the lines on Lewis's face as you clung to him. "I'm so, so sorry, Lewis. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I was an idiot, a fool to trust those awful lies." You squeezed your eyes shut, the weight of your doubt pressing down on you.
A muffled sob vibrated against your ear. Lewis, so strong on the track, was broken, his shoulders trembling with silent tears. It was a sight that ripped your heart open.
"Don't cry," you pleaded, your voice hiccupping. "This is all my fault. Please don't cry."
He didn't answer, burying his face deeper into your hair. Your hand reached up, stroking his back in a desperate attempt to soothe him. You hated being the reason for his pain.
Pulling back slightly, you met his eyes, the pain mirrored in their depths. "Lewis," you whispered, cupping his face. "I love you. More than anything. And the thought of losing you because I couldn't trust you..." Your voice broke again.
Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It was a kiss of apology, a plea for forgiveness, and a desperate promise to do better.
Lewis's initial flinch softened into a sigh. He closed his eyes as the kiss deepened, his tears starting to subside. It was slow, filled with a quiet understanding. He was trying to show you it was okay, even though you felt like the world's worst girlfriend.
Pulling back, you whimpered, fresh tears escaping. "I feel so awful, Lewis. I don't deserve you."
He captured your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. "Hey," he murmured, his voice husky but calming. "It's alright, love. We all make mistakes."
He pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your hair again. This time, though, it was different. It was a hug that held forgiveness, a promise to rebuild.
"I love you," he whispered against your ear, peppering your forehead with soft kisses. "And you know what? Even though you scared the living daylights out of me with that whole 'don't trust you' thing…" he trailed off, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
You chuckled wetly, a flicker of hope warming your chest. "I'm so sorry, Lewis."
He squeezed you tighter. "It's okay, baby. Just… next time, maybe give me a chance to explain before jumping to conclusions, alright?"
"Alright," you choked out, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "I promise. No more tabloid drama."
He chuckled, the sound rumbling against your ear. "Good. Now," he pulled back slightly, a playful glint in his eye. "How about we forget all about this mess with a celebratory dinner? My treat, no arguments."
You managed a watery smile. "You mean it?"
"Of course," he grinned. "Just promise not to read any more tabloids while I'm cooking, okay?"
Relief washed over you, mingled with the warmth of his forgiveness. "Deal," you agreed, wiping another stray tear. "And Lewis?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you. For everything."
He kissed your forehead, a silent promise hanging in the air.
time skip and lewis pov.
The flickering light from the TV danced across the room, painting fleeting shadows on the wall. We were nestled on the couch, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn forgotten on the coffee table. (Y/N)'s head rested on my shoulder, her eyes glued to the screen, though I knew she wasn't truly following the plot. Her eyelids were heavy, the aftermath of the earlier storm still clinging to her. The movie, a cheesy rom-com I'd chosen solely to lighten the mood, seemed to only be accentuating the red-rimmed puffiness under her eyes.
A pang of guilt twisted in my gut. It was my fault she was like this – fragile, wounded by my misread actions. Yet, as I watched her, a wave of overwhelming gratitude washed over me. Even after everything, here she was, nestled against me, seeking comfort in my embrace. The tabloids' venom had stung, the doubt in her eyes had hurt worse than any crash, but she was still here. Still choosing me.
A small sigh escaped her lips, and I looked down to see her gaze drifting towards me. In those tear-washed eyes, I saw a million unspoken apologies, a love deeper than any headline could ever tarnish.
Before I could speak, a soft, warm hand cupped my cheek. Her thumb brushed away a stray tear I hadn't even realized had escaped. "I'm so sorry again, Lewis," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
I leaned into her touch, the familiar scent of her vanilla hair washing over me. "Don't apologize anymore, love," I murmured, taking her face in my hands. "We talked, we understood. That's what matters."
But she wouldn't be deterred. She pulled me closer, her lips meeting mine in a kiss that spoke volumes. It was a kiss of apology, of reassurance, a silent promise to weather any storm together.
As I kissed her tears away, the taste of salt a faint echo of the turmoil we'd just faced, I knew one thing for certain. My life without (Y/N) was unimaginable. She was my rock, my confidante, the missing piece that made everything complete. And for that, I would fight. Always.
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aezuria · 10 months ago
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Hear me out.. happy Golden Retriever bf x broody black Cat gf, but it's Jason Grace x daughter of hades reader 👀👀
*ੈ✎ light of my life, where are you?
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content: jason grace x daughter of hades! reader
╰┈▸ warnings: none (until the ending oopsie)
librarian's annotations: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON AND JUST SKIP THE ENDING IF U DONT WANT ANGST
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maybe it was your gloomy disposition, or the fact that you were a daughter of hades, either way, most people avoided you like the plague. you didn't mind it all too much—you were usually one for solitude.
that was until you met jason grace. you disliked him from the start. dislike, not hate, because you couldn't bear to hate the person who always stuck up for your brother. but he was too bright, too overbearing for you. very much not your style.
(that's what they all say at the start)
he was just too good to be true! how could he be all these things everyone claimed him to be? they just had to be exaggerating.
but when he flashed his dazzling smile and tender gaze, you knew that all the rumors were true. even so, you pried your eyes away from him. you would not be wooed by a roman so easily!
jason did not make it easy for you. he followed you around camp like a lost puppy. he tried to be subtle, but his tall form wasn't exactly hard to spot. you went to your cabin? he followed you to the door, claiming he wanted to see nico. you went to the training grounds? he picked up a lance and started examining it a little too hard. when you finally confronted him about it, he just laughed sheepishly and scratched the back of his head, saying, "i was trying to work up the courage to ask you to be friends."
how were you supposed to not like him after that?
despite your lack of romantic endeavors, you were sure that friends didn't do what jason did. he opened the door for you, made sure you ate proper meals—and sure, those acts were pretty "just friends" level. but he also tied your shoes, put flowers in your hair, and hugged you so warmly whenever you were feeling especially down. you felt the unmistakable flutter in your heart whenever he did those things, instead of your initial distaste for him.
your confusion was answered the next evening. you swore nico had muttered something about jason being the only guy (besides him) he'd trust with you, right before telling you to go into the woods. "there's a surprise there," he had explained. "just trust me, okay?"
the sun was starting to set, its rays darting between the leaves and casting a soft glow on the grass. "go to the woods... can he be any more specific?" you muttered, before you caught a familiar head of blond hair in the corner of your eye. you turned and walked towards him, brushing away the branches as you did so.
"y/n!" jason beamed as he caught sight of you entering the clearing. he straightened up and messed with something behind his back. he shifted his feet and pulled out a bouquet, offering it to you shyly. "i asked the dryads what your favorites were. do you like them? did i organize them properly? are these actually not your favorites and they were just lying to me-"
"jason." you cut him off and smiled, taking the bouquet and smelling the freshly picked flowers. "i love them, thank you."
he swore his heart stopped. your smile was the most gorgeous sight he's ever seen. you were like an angel; why was it that no one thought to make you smile more often? he met your content expression with a wide beam of his own.
"really? i'm glad!" jason sighed in relief, before clearing his throat. "um," his voice cracked, face flushing red at that. "i wanted to ask if i could be your boyfriend? i just, you're so sweet and strong, and pretty... anyone would be lucky to be yours. but, i want to be that lucky guy, if you'll let me?" he looked into your eyes so earnestly, there was no other answer but yes.
"you know i love you, right?" jason whispered into your hair. your warmth brought him comfort in his otherwise cold cabin, empty and unfeeling, just like his father's attitude to him.
"uh huh. and i love you too." you mumbled sleepily into his chest. "but do you have to go?"
he laughed softly. "yes, i do." jason combed through your hair, silk between his fingertips. "i'll be back before you know it."
"do you ever think that we don't deserve this?" you whispered, eyes already shut as sleep slowly overtook you. "that we shouldn't have to fight someone else's battles?"
"yeah." jason rested his chin on the top of your head and squeezed you tighter. "sometimes i think that too."
shadows pried your eyes open, then slipped around your heart and squeezed. he was gone. you could feel it. you knew and yet you hoped and prayed that you were wrong. he was supposed to come home later, right? he would.
but the darkness settled in your stomach and weighed you down until morning.
and so you waited and waited, for nico's familiar shadow, or a chariot riding from the sky. what came was the former. you felt the comforting coldness of your brother's appearance, but jason's warmness was nowhere to be held. nico's dark eyes were rimmed with barely kept tears, his shoulders trembling with silent sobs.
"he's gone." your brother's voice was as dead as jason, as final as his last breath.
never had you begged and pleaded to your father so much; never had you needed to. never had you imagined a life without the sun, your sun. never had the ghost of your soul escaped in a pitiful shriek of agony, or became one with the dirt as salty tears.
and you knew, just as you knew death, that a part of you had died with him.
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okaysonny · 1 month ago
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happy new years!! just stumbled on your latest post and i absolutely adore the way you portrayed jake❤️❤️
Can i request for Jake kim x reader where they are similar to sinu han and yeonhui’s relationship and how they act
like yeonhui trying to hit sinu many times but fails miserably (im sorry if you don’t understand my request i cant construct well since english is not my 2nd language 🥲🥲)
smack me if you can ╏ jake kim
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★ summary: a bet with jake turns into a week long quest to beat his reflexes.
★ details: fluff, f! reader, established relationship, spoiler free, jerry appearance! he always shows up when i make jake fics i'm crying
★ wc: 920
★ A/N: thank youuu for your kind words! 🫶🏽 happy new year :) you probably mentioned yeonhui hitting sinu as an example, but...i took it and ran 🤫
anon is talking about this post btw, if you haven't seen it 👅
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as jake quietly slurps his noodles, you sneak up behind him, winding your arm back for the perfect smack on his cheek. just as you’re about to make contact, his hand shoots out, catching your wrist mid swing.
jake blinks at you, visibly confused. “uh…did i do something wrong?”
you huff and shake your head. “of course not! i was just testing something!”
“testing what, exactly?” he asks, raising a brow. but his lips twitch, holding back his amusement.
you glance away, a little sheepish. “i saw yeonhui try to slap sinu earlier, but he dodged it like it was nothing. i just wanted to see if you’d do the same”
jake stares at you for a second, then shrugs. “when you've been fighting for so long, dodging stuff like that becomes second nature. it’s just instinct”
you nod absentmindedly, muttering. “yeah...of course”
but as you turn to walk away, you spin back abruptly and take another swing at him.
he dodges — easily.
your jaw drops. “are you kidding me?”
jake chuckles now, clearly entertained. “told you. you’re not gonna land that slap”
“you little—” you stop yourself, gritting your teeth. “i definitely will”
jake grins, thoroughly enjoying this. “i bet you can’t slap me by the end of the week”
you scoff. “you’re on. and if i lose, i’ll buy you that special chocolate cake you devour like a pig. for a whole week”
his eyes light up at the mention of it. “deal. and when i win, don’t forget to tell everyone your boyfriend has ninja reflexes”
you roll your eyes. “whatever jake. i'm winning this”
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍰 ⋅ ☆
Monday
“woah, look over there jake!”
he glances in the direction you point.
gotcha! you raise your hand.
SLA-
without missing a beat, he dodges, turning back to you with a smirk. “nice try”
you groan.
Tuesday
feigning a pout, you sigh dramatically. “jake…i don’t feel so good. can you check if i have a fever?”
he leans forward, pressing his palm lightly to your forehead.
perfect. you aim for his cheek once more.
SLA-
but jake dodges effortlessly again, pulling back with a chuckle. “you’ll have to try harder than that”
you flop onto the couch, glaring at him.
Wednesday
while eating dinner, you point at jake’s face. “you’ve got sauce on your cheek”
he raises a brow. “do i?”
“yeah, let me get it for you” you say sweetly, reaching out.
too easy. as your hand inches closer, you shift suddenly.
SLA-
jake leans back smugly. “i thought you were more creative than this”
you stab at your food with a fork, fuming silently.
Thursday
desperate times call for desperate measures. you corner jerry in big deal's supply closet, shutting the door behind you.
jerry looks alarmed. “w-what are you doing?” he squeaks. “i don't know what you're planning, but i would never betray jake like this—”
“what? ew! this isn't even close to that!” you snap.
you exhale deeply, composing yourself. “jerry...how would i sneak up on jake and catch him off guard?”
jerry’s eyes light up with pride. “ah...boss jake could never be caught off guard. his reflexes are unmatched, his instincts sharp as—”
“alright, relax. who’s dating him, me or you?” you mutter, already regretting this. before he can continue singing jake’s praises, you shake your head and leave. “never mind...i should solve this on my own”
“where are you going?” jerry asks in confusion.
as you leave the supply closet, you pause, clenching your fist in the air — like some sort of revolutionary leader. “this isn’t just for me. this slap…is for womankind”
you march off with purpose, leaving jerry staring at you, baffled.
Friday
jake is casually scrolling through his phone when you lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he glances up, pleasantly surprised, a smile spreading across his face.
“what’s this for?” he asks, his voice laced with affection.
“just...for being the best boyfriend” you reply softly, taking the phone from his hands and setting it aside.
jake tilts his head, watching you curiously as your thumbs brush over his cheeks. his smile lingers as you lean in close, and he lets his eyes flutter shut, his lips parting slightly.
and that's when you strike.
SLAP
your hand connects with his cheek, the sound echoing through the room.
jake’s eyes fly open, wide with disbelief. “what the—”
you burst out laughing, triumphant. “i did it! i won!”
jake starts laughing too, shaking his head. “using kisses to win? that’s dirty”
you grin, running off. “i don't care! i’m telling jerry you got slapped by someone with zero combat experience!”
jake blinks as he watches you bolt out the room.
you burst into the room where jerry is, huffing victoriously. “jerry! i did it! i slapped him!”
jerry stares at you, gobsmacked. “no way...you actually slapped boss jake?”
“yes!” you announce proudly, before heading for the door. “and now i'm going to the bakery! i'll be rewarding myself with chocolate cake!”
jerry finds jake on the couch, who's chuckling quietly to himself. “boss… did she really slap you off guard?”
jake leans back, a fond smile on his face. “what do you think? of course not. it was so obvious”
jerry furrows his brows. “then why did you…”
jake watches you tie your laces as you hum a little victory tune, grinning to yourself. his expression softens.
“look how happy she is” jake says, his tone warm. “losing was totally worth it to see that smile”
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divider: @thecutestgrotto
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castiwls · 5 months ago
Text
two people .ᐟ part two
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Paring; patrick x reader
Requested; anon
Synopsis; being stuck in the friend zone sucked, it sucked even more when your best friend was Patrick zweig. (part one)
Warnings; jealous patrick? (if that counts)
Notes; This was gonna be two parts but I didn't wanna rush it so I'm aiming for 3 - 4 parts
reqs and inbox are open !
Tags; @vyctorya
Masterlist | part one
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“Here.” A cup was placed down besides your note book, the smell of coffee immediately filling your sense. Looking up a small smile pulled at your lips as you placed your pen down. “How did you know i was here?” Your hand wrapped around the cup, the heat warming up your hands as you took a sip.
“You said you preferred to study in the library, i went to your room and when you weren’t there i figured you’d be here.” Luke shrugged and you could swear his cheeks were dusted red as he pulled out the seat opposite you. 
Patrick had been MIA for the last two weeks and while normally you’d be pulling at your hair staring at your phone just waiting on a text or a call, you’d found yourself happily distracted. For the first time in possibly your whole life Patrick Zweig no longer held a unyielding grip on your life and part of you relished in your new found freedom.
Luke was a relatively new person in your world. He’d always been in your class but you’d never actually spoken until a few months ago when you’d been desperate for the notes that you’d missed and he’d been kind enough to lend you his. 
Slowly he’d integrated himself into your life, almost as if he was filling a hole you’d never noticed existed. In a way he was everything Patrick wasn’t - the thought left you feeling almost nauseous - he paid attention to small things (your order from the cafe and even your preferred route to class) and you never had to compete for his attention. 
If you called he’d been there, something which Patrick seemed to be unable to do. 
For once in your life you weren’t playing second best to whatever girl of the week it was. And it felt good. So good that the last two weeks you’d barely thought of your best friend.
You were happy in your own little bubble.
“Thanks.” You smiled placing the cup back down before glancing down to your note book. “You ready for the exam?” Luke piped in leaning forward on his elbows as he flipped a page in your book. “I think if I look at another paragraph my brain might melt.” He mused as his eyes flicked back to yours.” 
Humming you pursed your lips. “I’m surprised you have enough brain left for it to melt.” You teased, a small smirk pulling at your lips as his face dropped for a moment. “Hey,” His foot nudged yours. “Have you know, I am a very smart person.” He puffed out his chest in a mock show of arrogance.
Stifling a laugh at his display you rolled your eyes. “Oh im sure you are. Like im sure it was a mistake the other day when you managed to burn a ready made pizza.” 
Luke narrowed his eyes, leaning slightly closer. “Hey! Those ovens have a mind of their own miss I can’t use a toaster.” Your own eyes widened in response. “That was one time.” You defended, pouting slightly as he chuckled quietly. “Sure it was.”
You lapsed into a comfortable silence as you glanced back at your notes while he looked around, watching the few people dotted around the space. His eyes landed back on you after a moment, his tongue darting out to run across his lip as he watched you. 
Your own eyes flicked up. “What?”
“Nothing. Nothing just…people watching.” He shrugged leaning back into the chair. “You know you tend to do that with people you don’t know right?” Tapping your pen on the paper you looked back down. His gaze stayed on you, a quiet noise leaving him. 
Your quiet was broken by the noise of someone clearing their throat. You frowned slightly turning to look behind you, your pen pausing its movements as you noticed the figure behind you. 
Luke’s own brow furrowed slightly as he caught the way the newcomer's expression seemed to pinch slightly when he noticed him.
“I didn’t know you were back?” You said as you placed your pen down. Patrick’s eyes moved from Luke to you, his expression softening as a small smile replaced the frown that he’d been supporting.
“I called, you didn’t answer.” He pulled out the chair beside you, settling down with a small hum. He stretched his legs out, his knee brushing yours as he invaded your personal space. His gaze hardened again as he looked at the man opposite him up and down. Who was this guy?
An uneasy feeling settled in his chest as he noticed the way he seemed to be leaning towards you. His eyes darted between the two of you for a moment as his mind spun slightly. You couldn’t be together? Could you?
Sure enough, you’d tell him! You told him everything. 
When was the last time you’d even spent time with a guy that wasn’t him? Hell when was the last time you’d expressed an interest in a guy? He racked his mind for a moment but came up empty.
You didn’t hang around with other guys.
“Who’s your friend?” Patrick asked, wrapping an arm around the back of your chair. A tight smile pulled at his lips as you closed your notebook. “Oh, this is Luke. He’s in my class.” You nodded watching Patrick for a moment.
The hand around the back of your chair shifted to rub over your shoulder for a moment and for a brief moment, you thought you must be dreaming. Sure Patrick could be touchy but never in public, never like this. 
His leg continued to press into yours as he hummed thoughtfully.
Part of you hated the effect he had on you. Hated the fact that he’d been sat down for all of two minutes and you could already feel the butterflies returning as his hand continued to rub your shoulder. 
He stook out his hand after a moment. “Patrick.” He kept the same tight smile on his face as Luke reached over, shaking his hand before they both pulled back. “You know…she’s never mentioned you before.” Patrick tilted his head, his tone dripping in innocence.
Your own eyes widened as you jabbed him in the side. “What’s your issue?” You snapped lowly, hoping the other man wouldn’t hear. 
You could practically cut the tension between the two with a knife as Patrick fell quiet for a moment. “What? I’m just saying, you've never mentioned a Luke to me before.” He looked back to you, his hand squeezing your shoulder. 
Sucking in a breath you shook your head. “I would have but you didn’t answer your phone. I thought you wanted time with Karleigh anyways?” Wrong name, you knew it when you said it. His eyes narrowed but he didn’t correct you.
If he wanted to be petty you could be petty right back.
Luke frowned slightly clearing his throat. “I need to go help my roommate moving something but i’ll see you tommorw?” He raised an eyebrow as he stood. 
“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smiled. “Thanks again for the coffee.”
Luke shrugged, smiling slightly as he grabbed his own cup. “No problem.” He shot Patrick one last look before giving you a small wave.
The moment he was gone Patrick was on you. The hand on your shoulder squeezed you closer as he turned his body to face you. “He bought you coffee? Seriously?” He scoffed. “That’s like high school flirting.” He shot the cup a look as if it offended him. “You can’t seriously like that guy?!”
“So what if i do?” You shrugged, ignofing the way his closeness seemed to make your legs feel weak. “He’s a nice guy.” 
Patrick scoffed again, leaning slightly closer as he pointed towards the door. “He’s a boy scout.” He pointed back to you, his finger brushing your chest. “You shooting way below your level.”
You swallowed. “Oh, am I? Who do you think I should go for then? Someone more…douchy?”
Patrick pulled a face looking over your shoulder for a moment. “I don’t like him.” He said after a moment. “Of course, you don’t”
Patrick's eyes glanced over to your hand, still resting on the table. What have you been doing with him the last two weeks? Had he touched you? How many places have you gone together? His blood almost boiled at the thought of you having someone else take up your time and attention.
Someone to take you away from him.
His hand behind your back clenched for a moment as he looked you over. “C’mon. We’re getting food.” He grabbed your stuff, unceremoniously shoving it into your bag before standing.
“Careful.” You huffed as he kept the bag in his grasp. He was acting strange. You’d only ever seen him this riled up about tennis matches, and even then you’d never seen him this agitated.
You could tell from the way his mouth seemed set in a firm line as he waited for you to stand that he was annoyed. Part of you relished in it. Let him feel the way you always did whenever he’d come to you for advice or randomly bring his dates to your meetups.
Standing, a small gasp left you as you felt his arm wrap around you, almost possessively. You barely managed to grab the half-drunk coffee before he pulled you towards the door.
Patrick glanced down, his eyes narrowing as he noticed you’d grabbed the cup. Picking it from your grasp he threw it into the bin as you passed. 
Your mouth opened in protest but he cut you off. “I’ll buy you another.”
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noellefan101 · 1 year ago
Note
Could I request the Sumeru boys with a super doting s/o who loves to cook for them? In her eyes, nothing breaks her heart more than seeing the boys hungry and tired.
Characters: Cyno, Tighnari, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Wanderer(, + Albedo) x female reader(i didn´t know if you wanted gn or female, but you said 'her' so i just guessed, i´ll change it if you want(its not really there anyway))
Summary: Them with a reader that likes to cook/what you do when they come home tired/hurt
Warnings: kissing, maybe ooc, not proof-read, hugging from behind,
Note: thank u for requesting anon, i loved the idea, if i missed anyone pls let me know. sorry i was a "little" late though(i also tried smt new, hope you like it). i also realized that i like when people hug me from behind vize versa(someone pls hug me, omg), i luv youuuuu
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Cyno
he had just come home after a tiring mission out in the desert, and he looked worn out, with bruises here and there, and bags under his eyes. you almost cried at his state when you saw him, and immediately got some bandages in case he was badly hurt. but after you gave him the bandages you went back to cooking, you couldn't let it burn after all. but then told him to sit in the kitchen so you can help him while cooking.
he was confused at first but just went with it and sat on one of the kitchen chairs, the smell of your cooking comforting him more and more as he got closer to the kitchen. he almost forgot how calming your presence was, but its a happy surprise every time. he always loved your cooking so him coming home to you cooking his favorite meals in the kitchen, ready to greet him with one of your brightest smiles, it was like seeing the sun for the first time in months, even though it had only been a week.
knowing your love language was cooking, he always accepted your food, wanting to show that he liked when you loved him, and that he loves you too.
"cyno? you ok?" he got caught off guard when you spoke out to him, he didn't realize he had been staring at you, and immediately apologize. "o-oh yeah im fine sweetie, sorry" "hm, its fine, dinner´s ready" you smiled at him, and he felt like he fell in love all over again. but realizing he didn't have time to space out again (tho he wanted to) he just started eating. enjoying the food you made just for him, while thinking about when he finally would get the guts to propose.
Tighnari
it had been a long day in the forest, along with most of the trainees not listening to his lectures and some just strait up ignoring him(not Collei ofc, your sweet baby child, (with Cyno as the unfunny uncle)). in short, he had a really bad day and had little to no energy left.
but he didn´t even realize he was so tired until he practically saw your heart break in half in your eyes when you saw him. it really pained him to see you like that, little did he know you hurt more. you were almost done cooking when he got home and unfortunately couldn´t tend to him right now(+ Nari would scold you if left it alone, and tended to him instead). so you just asked him to walk over to you instead and gave him a little kiss on the cheek to hopefully restore some of his energy.
it did help him a little bit with calming down, you always did, but this time he may have gotten a little greedy and went in to give you a kiss on the lips in return. "Tighnari, not right now. do you want dinner or not, im sure Collei wants some" he laughed a little at your words(and at your red cheeks) "of course i´d like some dinner, Collei as well. but cant i kiss my beautiful girlfriend/partner" you looked back at him, glaring a little.
"fine, but- mhmph" your sentence got interrupted by another kiss from him. when you pulled away your cheeks were completely red, "Nari, stop that, at least eat first" he looked at you in amusement, "fine i´ll eat first" he ended the sentence with a sigh. "good you better, and after you need sleep, you have bags under your eyes" you went back to cooking. "sure, whatever you say gorgeous" he looked at you(with hearts in his eyes) and you looked back at him "thank you, handsome"
Alhaitham
he had been reviewing some scholar's papers today, and it was definitely not his favorite. some lacked the correct knowledge about the right things to focus on, some the papers lacked effort, and some couldn´t even be called proper papers. yeah, he didn´t have a very good day, some random guy even dared demand a meeting when he clearly was very busy doing something else.
when he opened the door to your home, he was instantly met with the delicious smell of your cooking. but it seemed like you didn´t hear him since you weren´t running to him like you normally would, or maybe you were just too focused on cooking. but that didn´t matter to him right now because he, for once, just wanted to have you in his arms. when he walked into the kitchen, and catching you by surprise at the same time, he only walked up to you and hugged you from behind, burying his face into your neck.
you didn´t look at him, but if you did you´d see just how tired he really was, you were just a little too focused on cooking it seemed. he just stood there hugging you for a bit, looking at whatever you were doing, though he didn´t really pay attention, and he almost fell asleep right then and there if you hadn´t called out to him. "Haitham, i´m almost done cooking, can you put plates on the table" you took him out of his thoughts and even surprised him a little, "o-oh, yeah i can do that, love".
you looked over at him, only now realizing how tired he was "Actually i can do that, you don´t have to. just go sit down" he looked at you "are you-" "yes im sure. Go sit down" you looked him in the eyes like a mother did when she was angry at her kid, "of course" he looked away from you. "thank you, i love you" "...love you too"
Kaveh
yes, he has been working non-stop on this project from a client. it wasn´t even due til in a month or so, but still, there he was in his office looking over the many sketches that got declined. some were too detailed some too simple, and there was the ones where the client didn´t like the style, even though it was exactly what he asked for... he could go on for hours and hours about how frustrated he was.
you were just going into his office to check on him and to give him some water, but when you saw how tired and hungry he looked (he hadn't eaten in, like, hours)you quickly gave him the water and went out to the kitchen before he even realized you were there. you started finding the ingredients even before you fully entered the kitchen, already knowing the recipe since you´ve made it so many times for him.
an hour later it was already done and you were about to get a plate and give it to him in his room, but it seemed like the smell of the food brought him to you instead. because there he stood, behind you hugging your waist and now that you took a better look at his face, your heart broke a little. he looked so tired and half dead if you were to ask Alhaitham.
you quickly gave him the plate and dragged him out into the dining room, "you need to stop forgetting to eat, mister" it almost scared him with how harsh your voice was at that moment. "-m sorry" you looked at him, your eyes softening a little this time " it´s fine, I'm just worried about you y´know" he laughed a little "i know, i love you" you looked over at him, a bit sharper this time "love you too, idiot".
Wanderer
He doesn't need to eat, he´s a puppet, you know that. yet you still make him food every time he comes home from classes at the Akademiya, when he looks extra tired from working on his thesis last night therefore he didnt get any sleep. he doesnt understand why you do this for him, why you make him tea all the time when he didn't even ask. he doesnt understand you.
But his heart still beat in his chest, despite not being there, when he saw your pained face as he walked into your shared home. his tired state for once showing in his face. he had been going a little too overboard with a thesis and also didn't realize the time until Buer came to get him/since you were worried about him, in your mind/. and then sent him home, both to his liking and his dismay.
you practically ran over to him, and then dragged him into the kitchen to then also force him to sit down and explain himself. he may have memories of being in the Fatui, but he still thought you like this was scarier. your normally sweet and kind personality gone, turned into something reminding him of La Signora and The Knave(+himself(or even Dottore)).
let's just say it wasn't the nicest experience but you eventually calmed down a little, the worry now showing more than when he walked into your shared home. "you need to stop overworking, Kuni", he gave out a sigh at your antics "i know, I'm sorry for worrying you" he mumbled the last part, and if you hadn´t been right next to him you wouldn´t have heard it. "well, now you need to eat, you cant say no this time. oh yeah, i´ll also make you some tea if you´d like" he was glad to see that you were back to normal "Thanks, I´d like some tea, i guess". you laughed a little "of course, coming right up, now eat" he shivered a little at your sharp tone when you said the last part " *sigh* fine".
Albedo
its not like he wanted to worry you, he was just a little too invested in the experiment he was working on, in Dragonspine no less. so he ended up forgetting to stop and go home and instead worked himself to near death(who doesn´t, right). and when you went to check on him he didn´t even notice you, so you decided to surprise him in a hug from behind, while being careful not to ruin anything that was in front of him.
he doesn´t hate it when you surprise him, oh no, you just caught him off guard. and he definitely didn´t expect you to visit him today, but he enjoyed you being here and hugging him. he didn´t realize he had been lost in thought while staring at you til you asked him if he was okay, and to be fair he wasn´t really ok, but he said yes anyway.
"are you sure?" the question caught him off guard for the second time that hour, " *sigh* to be honest, no im not sure" he turned around and hugged you back. "are you hungry?! i can cook something if you´d like..." you looked at his face, there were bags under his eyes and he didn´t look as pretty as he normally did(he still looked pretty tho/im so very not normal abt this man/) "... you look tired, bedo. i can cook you something and then you need to sleep" you looked at him again, this time you looked more serious.
"but-" you stared at him sharply, " *sigh* -fine, I´ll eat and then sleep, but only if you do too" you smiled brightly at him "deal". you then untangled yourself from his arms and ran over to your bag to get your spices, you then started finding the eatable ingredients you have stored in his lab. after you forced made him eat something, you dragged him to bed. the experiment can wait anyway.
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thank you for reading, had a lot of fun writing this so hope you enjoyed, luv ya-Masterlist
You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts
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pinkaditty · 1 year ago
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Hi, hi!
I loved your perverted obey me brothers and you catching them with your underwear. Will you make a part 2 with the other dateables?
If not, no worries!!
I love your work and I hope you have a nice day!
anon. did u know that ur my first ask? did u know that anon? ily. i've been thinking abt this ask since i saw i first got it. i never knew getting an ask could be so euphoric.
anyways
Pervert (Obey Me: Shall We Date) Part 2!
summary: you are suspecting that someone is stealing your underwear. it will go missing and randomly reappear like it was never gone. you pretend not to notice, but set a little trap for the culprit… and catch them red handed.
a/n: folks. wow. i did not expect part 1 to be soso popular omg!! ily guys thanks so much for enjoying my stuff waaaah! sorry this second part took so fucking long man so much shit happened. like sooo much im so tired. anyways. here. this part includes the royals, angel, and human. ill be back with the others (thirteen, mephisto, and raphael) soon! they may be slightly ooc bc im unfamiliar with them but ill do my best! also im like literally praying that the characters i wrote here aren't ooc. I tried SO hard please lmk if they are. &lt;;/3
content warning: as usual fem!mc unless you like to imagine yours as a crossdresser (mc's physical attributes are not mentioned but fem undergarments are), and suggestive nsfw content! lmk if there's anything i missed :(
read part 1 here!
AS USUAL MINORS DNI PLEASE! PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY! THANK YOU!
Intro:
For a short while, you had been reassigned to stay at Purgatory Hall/The Demon Lord’s Castle/wherever else the Dateables are due to Satan having accidentally destroyed your section of the House of Lamentation. No big deal, but all of the brothers were less than happy to see you go. It’s okay, though. You’ll be fine among the others…
The story is the same, of course. You think someone has been nicking your intimates in their spare time. Which is, of course, strange but simultaneously exciting. 
You decide to set a trap to find out who they are, leaving your hamper full of clothes in the washroom before leaving to grab some scent beads. When you return, as expected, you can hear someone rifling through your intimates, but it’s not rushed. Rather, it’s calm and calculated, as though said person was desperate to not be heard. You decide to wait outside the door for them. Once they collect the spoils of their work, they quietly slip through the door, only to find you leaning against the wall outside, looking at them expectantly. Your arms are crossed and you’re tapping your fingers on your arm. You raise an eyebrow at them, stifling the urge to cackle at their panicked expression.
“Explain yourself, pervert.” 
Diavolo:
You know, simultaneously, you expected him and didn’t expect him at all - at the same time. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Dia was fascinated with humans, especially with you, but… To such lengths? Really? If only Barbatos could see him now. 
For a man that loves to talk… He sure is speechless now.
He’s frozen. The panicked expression remains on his face, his eyes flickering from the surrounding hallways and walls to you, to the floor, and back to the hallways. If there was a way out, he couldn’t find it. Before long, he deflated, resigning to looking down, a pitiful pout on his face. You got the feeling it was partially for show, though.
He whimpered like a hurt puppy before muttering a very formal apology. Keeping his head down, he held out the panties towards you. As you watch him, you realize this man has probably rarely ever felt shame before. It's almost entertaining - watching his eyes spin as he tries to adjust to feeling this way. Though he tries to hide it, you can hear his heaving breaths from here. He was ashamed. You could tell he wasn't ashamed for his actions; rather, he was ashamed because he was caught.
The thought makes you want to laugh, and you do, snatching the panties from his waiting hand. He looks up as you laugh, confused, his lips in a soft pout. His eyes almost look teary, as though he's that sad that you're laughing at him. You stifle your laughter with a hand and wave it off, walking past him into the laundry room to put your panties back in the hamper. Once your laughter dies out, you don't face him, but you do speak to him, knowing he is listening.
"Dia, the next time you find yourself fascinated with me, you can just ask. I'll be happy to spare a worn pair for your sake." 
You hear a surprised gasp, a shuffling of feet, and a relieved exhale. You turn to him, finally, to see him bowing his head in thanks. He's biting his lip and his face is bright red. Probably too embarrassed to make eye contact. He covers his mouth with his hand, muffling his words before speaking.
"Thank you, MC, for letting this slide… And please, don't tell Barbatos…" His face burns red at his final words, and you smile, amused.
"Don't worry, I won't tell." You wink at him before returning to your laundry, hearing his hesitant steps as he walked away.
Barbatos:
He's frozen. Mortified. He stands there, rooted to the spot like a statue of stone. He stammers out your name in surprise, nervously shifting his gaze from you to your surroundings. He clears his throat, holding a hand up to his lips, and keeps it there, as though attempting to hide his growing blush. "I-I deeply apologize, MC. I should not have been here… You were not meant to see me… " He sounds out of breath, his words light and mumbled.
He turns away from you at an angle, shutting his eyes tight and keeping his hand in front of his face. You watch him take deep breaths and attempt to steady himself and regain his composure. You had to admit, watching him fumble through such an embarrassment was awfully entertaining. His chest visibly rose and fell with each audible breath. He gently teetered on his feet, as though he could fall over if he couldn't keep up. What a sight to behold, Barbatos at a loss for words and composure. 
You approach him quietly, walking slowly to prevent the click of your shoes from being heard. You know that while he can't hear you, he can feel you, and he knows you're close. He shuffles backwards shyly, attempting to replace the distance you remove with every step. Ultimately, however, he is too slow, and you manage to get close enough to him, cornering him against a wall inside the laundry room. You make no effort to cage him in, but simply watch as he continues to attempt to get ahold of himself. He swallows thickly and slowly opens his eyes, calming down. He lowers his hand back to his side, and looks at you levelly, his expression still embarrassed but not mortified any longer. You smile, raising an eyebrow.
"I'd like my panties now, thanks." You hold out a hand expectantly, and Barbatos obliges, pulling the panties from his coat pocket and placing them in your waiting hand, all signs of embarrassment gone from his face, replaced by his trademark smile instead. His ears however, were a dead giveaway, as the tips of them remained red. You simply chuckle and lean away from him, humming in thanks and placing them back into the hamper. He moves to assist you with your clothes, and does so efficiently, though you watch him carefully to ensure his nimble fingers don’t grab hold of anything else without your permission. When the task is finished, he bows respectfully.
“Is there anything else I can assist you with, MC?” 
You shake your head, smiling. “No, but thank you, Barbatos.”
With that done, his ears still burning red and his smile faltering slightly, he moves to leave. You stop him, grabbing his arm as he passes you. He looks back at you curiously, embarrassment still painted on his face. “And, please, ask me next time.” You smile, your eyes filling with mirth. “I’d be happy to give you a pair later as thanks for your assistance.”
He swallows thickly and his eyes widen. He bites his lip before nodding, thanking you briskly, and walking away hurriedly, his face red.
You think you see a flash of lace in his back pocket as he leaves, but maybe you’re imagining it...
Simeon:
Now, this was a surprise. The angel? Really?
He yelps in surprise, fumbling with the panties and dropping them on the ground, hiding his face in his hands and backing into a wall. He’s visibly shaking, his hands trembling as he hides behind them, not even peeking out to observe your reaction. His knees wobbled and he began to shrink in on himself, eventually kneeling on the floor. You watch him wordlessly, amused. He’s unexpectedly quite dramatic. 
After a few moments, you hear him mumbling to himself. Confused, you tentatively approach him, listening carefully. You catch little bits of what he’s saying before kneeling down, to which he shrinks further and his mumbling speed increases. Then it hits you. He’s… praying.
He’s literally fucking praying. 
You are so thoroughly amused at this that you want to laugh, but you wonder if being a victim of the wrath of Simeon or the almighty was worth it, so you decide against it. You stifle and disguise your laugh as clearing your throat, doing a comically loud “Ahem” to get Simeon’s attention.
Not one to be disobedient, he stops his muttering and slowly lifts his head to look at you. You smile smugly at him, your eyes narrowing with mirth. You reach out towards him and gently touch his chin. He flinches, but doesn’t pull away, looking between your fingers and your face curiously. You hold his chin and lift it upwards, and he follows your movements, adjusting himself so it’s easier to peer upwards at you. You smile wider, even more amused than before. 
“I don’t think that’ll work down here, Simeon.” Your voice is low and taunting, and Simeon gulps, his eyes still not leaving yours. He still doesn’t say anything, merely trembles, as though he were being judged.
Maybe he was, a little bit, but favorably so. It’s not everyday you’d find an angel ballsy enough to do this, right?
You tut at him, clicking your tongue and shaking your head disapprovingly. “Oh, Simeon…” You put on a fake pout, looking at him with pity in your eyes. “Don’t you know better than to do this?”
“Ugh…” Simeon bites his lip. His eyebrows furrow and his mouth creases downwards into a pathetic expression. You continued to stifle your laughter by biting the inside of your cheek. However, you are ultimately unsuccessful and end up bursting into an amused smile and a few breathy chuckles at him. 
When your laughter dies down, you look at him, still holding his chin. “Come now, Simeon.” You smile, winking at him. “All you have to do is ask… If you‘d like another pair.”
Simeon sucks in a breath in shock, and his eyes widen as he looks at you. He suddenly scrambles to his feet, straightening up, his head still bent forward in embarrassment. 
“I-I’m sorry, MC! It won’t happen again!” He swiftly walks past you, not looking at you and barely opening his eyes enough to see, narrowly missing the wall in his rush to leave. You listen to his retreating footsteps and only laugh. Maybe you’d drop by his room later and give him a gift.
Solomon: 
Shameless. But he’s old and barely human. He’s also the worst.
He doesn’t react much besides his initial panicked reaction, which soon melts into mirth, a smug smile appearing on his face. He’s confident, but not that confident. His exaggerated smug smile twitches at the corners and his face remains flushed a deep red. He dramatically clears his throat and smiles coyly, the picture of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “Ah…” He starts, shrugging his shoulders, still smiling, the corners of his lips still twitching. His voice shakes just slightly. “You got me!”
Your face can’t seem to decide if it wants to fall into a disappointed expression at his brazen admission or burst into a fit of laughter at his obvious fear. Instead, it seems to settle on a pitying smirk, and you have to stop it from turning into a full on grin. You sigh and shake your head, not super surprised. 
You approach him, and he visibly stiffens, but his arrogance forces him to stay in place, his confidence crumbling at your certainty. When you stand just in front of him, you hold out your hand, a smug look on your face. “I’ve got you indeed! Hand them over.” Your words are quick and terse, smug smile and knowing look still on your face. Solomon swallows, and looks to the side, gently dropping the panties into your hands. He makes no move to look at you again after that, still facing you but looking away. 
You scoff as you watch him simply stand there. You find it amusing, but you are also dissatisfied at his lack of retorts. You put your hands on your hips and smirk, attempting to provoke him. “Hm. I’d expect a panty thief to be more ballsy. What, cat got your tongue?” Your smug smile only grows and your eyes narrow with mirth. His confidence almost seems to fully crumble under your gaze, and he relents, his blush spreading all across his face. Yet still, he remains silent.
You approach further, your steps slow and deliberately intimidating. He’s rooted to the spot, unable to move, still frantically finding anything to gaze at instead of you. Eventually you stand mere centimeters from him, your body just barely touching his. You smirk at him and lean your head forward, blowing on him before pulling back. He flinches immediately, startled, and bumps into the wall behind him. You giggle at him, thoroughly amused at his frantic nerves. He looks at you pathetically, lips red from worrying at them with his teeth, pupils blown wide, red blush from his forehead to his neck. 
“Aw, don’t look at me like that~!” You tease him, pressing your finger into his cheek. He watches you warily, seemingly at a loss for words. Your lips pull into a wicked smile. “How long has it been, hm?”
Immediately his eyes widen and he stammers out some indignant words, trying to deflect and explain himself. You only laugh at his stammered words, and he eventually stops, worrying at his lips again with his teeth. “Oh, don’t worry, I imagine you have plenty of escapades. But why couldn’t you just ask me?” You tilt your head at him, looking at him with hooded eyes. “Hm? It couldn’t have been that hard to just ask.”
Surprisingly, he only sighs and shakes his head, blush still present. “My dear apprentice, I am only human. Even I still don’t know how to properly act in the face of attraction.” A small, wobbly smile pulls at his lips before he purses his lips again, biting down to stifle any further words. His answer was straightforward, but you can tell he is still nervous. His breathing remains heavy, his eyes are still wide, and he’s still covered in a crimson blush. You laugh again.
Instead of teasing him further, though you really want to, you smile. “Well, now you know. Simply ask, Solomon. I am willing to help you… if you want me to.” You smile before turning away, dropping the panties into your clothes hamper, and starting the wash. It takes Solomon a moment to snap out of it and leave, but he does. You could feel his eyes on you and his magic still lingers in the air.
a/n: *super saiyan yells* thank you for reading waaaaaah! i did my best and im soso sorry if any of these characs are ooc... if they are too ooc i might actually rewrite it fr im so scared :(
anyways as usual feedback is always appreciated, and so are comments, likes, reblogs and asks! (especially asks) please show me your appreciation! i love to know i've done a good job.
@ikevampharem asked to be tagged :3!
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melancholiaincarnate · 5 months ago
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i love him, he loves me, and this i know
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「 in which ᵎᵎ 」 you're sick, and your boyfriend takes care of you.
「 words ᵎᵎ 」 663
「 author's note ᵎᵎ 」 this was a request from anon :0 maybe geto doing your hair? I love your writing keep up the good work! thank u anon :D in honor of me also being incredibly fucking sick, here is geto taking care of you while you're sick :P fem reader btw, with longer-ish hair :D
「 warnings ᵎᵎ 」 none :)
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"and here's your tea, honey. i brought you some medicine as well." suguru places the items on your bedside table, helping you to sit up.
you'd caught some sort of cold, and you'd been bedridden for a couple days now. you figured you'd caught it from your commute to and from work via public transit. geto, despite your insistence that he'd also get sick, had taken it upon himself to take care of you. (he'd also used this as an opportunity to try and convince you to quit your job and let him to take care of you. you'd practically seen the smirk on his face when you told him you were sick over the phone.)
"thanks, sugu." your voice was nasally and you winced at the sound. "fuck, i sound gross." despite your ears being clogged, you could hear how raw and how your tone was deeper than suguru's.
"you still look absolutely beautiful though." he gave you a soft smile as he shook the tylenol into his hand and grabbed the tea to give to you. he tenderly placed the cup in one hand and two pills in the other. "careful, it's hot."
you grabbed it, grateful for its warmth, and you grimaced as you swallowed down the pills. "with my - gross bed head," you coughed, "and my snot everywhere?" you took a sip of the tea, your throat feeling soothed instantly. "i doubt it, sugu. ugh, i need to fix my hair and-"
"let me do your hair then." suguru hums, interrupting you. "be right back." he leaves for a second, leaving the bedroom door wide open just in case you needed something from him. he wanted to be there as soon as you needed him.
he comes back with your hairbrush, and he adjusts himself against the headboard before patting the space between his legs. you knew you had a rats nest back there and you weren't going to say no to suguru's willingness to do your hair. it was cute how quickly he sprang up to grab your hairbrush.
his hands were gentle with you, like they always were. he hummed a song while he parted your hair and ran the brush through one side. you closed your eyes, the slight tugs on your hair feeling great on your scalp.
"sorry baby, i'm sorry." suguru's voice was low in your ear as the bristles caught on a rather large knot. "i know, im sorry."
"is 'kay." you sniffled. it hurt, but not as much as it would if it were anyone else doing it. he was always gentle with you. you loved that about him.
"after this, i'm going to run you a warm bath. you're sweating out your fever." he swoops some of your hair over your left shoulder, and begins working on the other half. "which is good - i'm happy. i don't like seeing my baby all sick."
"you're so dramatic. it's just a cold, sugu." you roll your eyes, but a cough bubbles its way up your throat. you cough into your elbow, while suguru soothingly rubs your back.
you let out a little whimper at the pain in your throat and he kisses the top of your head as he finally finishes brushing your hair, and ties your hair up with a small hair tie off his wrist. whether it was yours or his, you couldn't tell, you both shared hair products often.
"you lay right here, i'll come and get you when the bath is ready." he maneuvered himself out of your way, props the pillows up behind you, and kisses your forehead as he swings off the bed. "don't even move! i'll carry you to the bathroom." he grins, gathering up some fresh pajamas and underwear for you, as well as a towel.
"i won't move, sugu." you laugh, the sound a little scratchy. "you always take such good care of me." you mumble, sighing as you lean back against the pillows.
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mlm-mod-taka · 8 months ago
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Could I get Mondo Owada reacting to being called “pretty boy”? Preferably with easily flustered!Mondo. (I’m genderfluid, so masc or gn are both fine for me!)
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CALLING HIM "PRETTY BOY" • mondo x gn reader
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hello anon, thank you for requesting! i really missed writing for mondo, i seem to have forgotten how much i loved him. my crush on him is part of the reason why i chose taka! other than the fact that i love taka and relate heavily to him, of course. writing this made me remember why he was one of my favorites. thank you all for the support towards my return! it means alot to me. anyways, i hope you enjoy this, anon!
tws/cws: (flustered) yelling, mentions of past toxic masculinity.
|| -> mod taka <3
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he'd be caught off guard by someone calling him "pretty". people used alot of words to describe him. words like scary, unruly, rude, loud, obnoxious, the list goes on. it happened so often that he got used to those kind of adjectives being attached to him.
there was also his toxic masculinity making things harder for him, as usual. he always thought "pretty" was something reserved for girls, and was meant to be taken as an insult if it was said to a man. he remembers a few of his physically weaker/shorter members being called a pretty boy by other gangs as a way to tease them.
he was trying to work on it though, with alot of help from chihiro and taka. being a man wasn't just about how you looked, it was about how you carried yourself and treated others, he needed to remind himself of that. even if it was a slow improvement, he was still making progress.
so when you stared dreamily at him as he dried his hair while letting out a big yawn, and you whispered "you're such a pretty boy" in a voice so full of love and admiration, his brain fully short circuited.
i feel like how he'd react after recovering from the initial flusteredness would depend on how long you two have known each other. but either way, he's definitely gonna blush and be super shy. this is mondo we're talking about!
if things were still new and fresh between you two, his nervous habit of yelling would activate, saying that he wasn't pretty, you were pretty! have you seen yourself? you were the prettiest pretty to have ever prettied! why are you calling him pretty instead?!
he sounds angry, but you knew he wasn't, this was just how he reacted to something he wasn't used to. you remember this is how he acted as well when you called him handsome at the beginning of your relationship. you just continued to admire him as he carried you in front of a mirror to show yourself just how pretty you were.
now, if you two have known each other for awhile, he'd react much less explosively, looking away with a blush as he pouted, grumbling "im not pretty..." under his breath while he avoided eye contact with you.
you simply continued to watch him with a smile while his face turned more and more red at your attention, trying to ignore the amused and loving look you gave him.
and he'll throw the towel at your face if you try to tease him about his blushing, resorting back to yelling about how you should stop looking at him like that, the blushing continuing to deepen as he storms off to calm himself down in the bathroom.
he just needed some time to warm up to you more, and to also warm up to those kind of words being attached to him. he'll get there eventually, you just needed to be patient and gentle with him.
the final stage is you two knowing each other for a long time, being completely used to the others attitude and sharing vulnerable things that youd never feel comfortable sharing with anyone else.
if you call him a pretty boy then, he'll still blush and act bashful at first, but will wear a cocky smile after he recovers from the initial reaction. "hmph. damn right im a pretty dude, and dont you forget it!" he lets out a laugh as he continues to dry his hair with a happy look and blush on his face.
as the time you spent together goes on, he'd be more and more accepting of new things you introduce him to. you helped him step out of his comfort zone and grow out of bad habits without rushing him or forcing him.
while he still thinks the adjective "pretty" doesn't fit him well, a compliment from his beloved is still a compliment from his beloved at the end of the day. he'll happily take it, after alot of nervous shouting and while wearing a red face.
and, you didn't hear this from me, but he's super flattered at being called pretty. he thinks about it at night, smiling to himself as he remembers how lucky he is to have someone that genuinely tries to understand him, and loves him for who he actually is. he loved you so much, he hopes you knew that.
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rosedere · 8 months ago
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Hi!! Can i request yan azul forcing you to have relationship with him. And the darling is yuu in twisted wonderland world while she's already can't leave to her world. She's sad that she can't go to her world anymore. But still trying to survive there, but she's just not want to be in the relationship with someone.
Anyway, thank you so much if you read and make this request. I really really love your works on ao3 and really happy you active on tumblr too. Have a nice day and keep healthy 🫶
👀👀👀 ooh that’s a juicy request anon! (esp since I just finished book 3 on my main acct im rolling on the floor the yan potential Azol has <3)
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Azul was tending to the monstro lounge reports when he felt something... off.
Dropping the intricate fishbone pen, he listened to the normally bustling hallway full of chatter and dishes clanking.
"(Name) darling," he called, still looking down at the current equation for calculating how much inventory he'd need for the upcoming month.
Silence.
He peeked up to see no one in the VIP room.
You left.
You left him.
He quickly strided out of the lounge towards the kitchen.
The servers and cooks, enslaved by golden contracts, were still diligently working, stressed out, trying to fulfill the orders as they should.
But you weren't there.
His mind was racing as he began his journey to the lounge, where the loud sounds of customers chatting were heard.
The dim, soft, deep violet lights shone down on him as he scanned the restaurant.
But searching amongst the different dorm uniforms and students, you weren't there. His pearl.
But his red herring was seen when he saw the ramshackle prefects annoying talking beast sitting at the bar across from Floyd, who had an extremely annoyed expression as the small gluttonous vermit shoveled desert after desert into his small mouth.
That thing never came to the lounge.
A few seconds later, he saw your other annoying friend with his red hair bouncing up and down as he shook hands with Floyd, having an unheard discussion away from Earshot.
His competition.
He scowled, but he did notice your friend seemed extremely nervous, fidgeting, looking around the packed lounge.
Azul's eyes met your red-haired friend's, causing him to freeze in place.
He only shifted before looking uncomfortablely towards a corner of the room.
Azul followed where he was looking but could only see your hair swaying as you ran on shaky legs towards the exit to the lounge.
Your friend, realizing what he had done, only looked in worry as he ran towards the exit after you, grabbing your direbeast by the neck to its annoyance.
Azul only ran like his life depended on it as he tried to dodge the busy lounge goers in the way.
A few looked up in confusion as Azul passed by.
He suddenly ran into the chest of your tall beastman friend.
"Watch where you're going," Azul spat before trying to bypass him.
He only felt the rough hands of the beastman grab the back of his neck, slightly lifting him up.
"You watch where you're going," he growled before tossing him back towards the floor.
"Get out of my way, or I'll have you escorted out of my establishment," Azul pointed with his cane at the beastman. "I don't allow dogs in this establishment anyway," he sneered.
"Eh might as well; she should be in the mirror by now." Jack smiled down at Azul.
With anger, Azul only pushed past the beastman, causing him to growl as Azul ran down to the hallway of Octavinelle.
It felt like the hallways took forever as he finally reached the exit to Octavinelle.
You weren't anywhere near the exit, causing Azul's heart to sink. You had somehow gotten further than the last time you ran, he recalls, when he caught you late at night trying to use the exit mirror in the hall of mirrors.
He remembered grabbing your seaweed binds and taking you back to the empty dorm room you were being held in.
You were heartbroken as he led you back to your room. He knew it wasn't ideal, but he knew if he left you in his room every day, you'd be found immediately by the nosy friends you had.
It was already hard trying to get you to sign the contract to bind yourself to him; he didn't need anymore problems.
Stepping out of the mirror, he was still met with no sign of you or your annoying friends waiting outside the mirror.
"O-ow"
Azul's ears perked up at the sound of your wounded voice.
"Ah, just as I suspected, someone's been lying."
Jade approached from the heartslabyul mirror a few meters away. You dangled defeated in his arms with torn and tattered clothes, your knees, hands, and wrists with small cerated cuts on you.
Your head dangled down in defeat as Jade held your body in his arms.
"What the hell happened to her?" Azul scolded Jade.
"She's not mute; she can tell you herself what she did." Jade smiled, holding you up to present to Azul.
You only quivered, shaking in Jade's grasp, looking down pathetically.
"Where were you (name)?" Azul snarled, hitting you in the ribs with his cane.
You whimpered, only curling yourself into a ball.
"Let me guess you were going to run away with your friends away from me?" He sarcastically joked, "I thought you cried about hating them and wanting to go home."
Still looking down, you only stayed silent as he decided to harshly poke into your sides.
"Answer me (name)"
"I DONT WANT TO BE STUCK WITH YOU" you shouted, pointing at Azul.
"Im sick of being your toy; you just take me out whenever you remember I exist," you sobbed. "Just let me go; I won't tell anyone about what you did to me or be around Octavinelle anymore."
Azul only looked in disbelief, as if you had grown three heads.
"Im serious, you can have Ramshackle; I'll go live in another dorm if I have to," you cried loudly in the echoing hall.
Azul was quiet for a moment; it seemed that he was thinking of your offer.
Even Jade seemed alarmed at your sudden outburst as you cried with tears running down your scratched-up face and the scent of roses coming from your matted hair.
But Azul was only thinking of how sorry he was for not hiding you better.
"Jade, I can take her back." Azul sighed in defeat. "It seems I might need to use my other plan."
You thrashed in Azul's hold as he held you to his chest in a bridal style.
"I'll take you a warm bath and give you some of this," he cooed as he pulled a vial from his breast pocket.
Your eyes widen in horror when you realize what he was threatening you with.
"I just can't have those pesky friends of yours finding you once more, my pearl," he combed his fingers in your hair as he began to walk towards the octavinelle mirror.
"I know you'd be a beautiful attraction to the Monstro Lounge Aquarium."
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