#im ready for something different and im ready for something i can sink my teeth into. even if its just finding a job that fulfills me

[madasrabbits]

i think a lot about how i know what i want with my life but i cant have it yet and that is such a hard thing to realize

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise

Chapter 34: Trapped in the Depths: The Encounter with Doflamingo

This gif because we get another Sanji POV, as he finally makes it to Zou.

A/N: We back with a second new chapter! Since its my birthday we getting the gift of Fanfics! LMFAOOO, but you guys when I tell you these upcoming chapters are cooking! Like my god! Im about to drop a sneak preview tomorrow. We got both Sanji POV, and Usopp POV. Thank you guys for everything, dont worry I have the master list ready also so I can pin it on my page as well. And without further ado let the adventure begin! 

Word Count: 7.9K

Sanji x Reader, Sanji x Y/N, One piece X Reader 

Y/N POV…

Doflamingo continues to step forward, laughing menacingly. Luffy and I both stand stunned. “Princess, why look at you. Seems to me I’ve found you once again,” Doflamingo taunts, his voice dripping with malice. His eyes gleam with a twisted amusement as he takes in my presence. “How fortunate for me, wouldn’t you say?” 

I open my mouth to retort, but Doflamingo cuts me off. “Look at you three, huddled together in your little hole. Should I take those handcuffs off you, Law?” His voice is dripping with mockery as he focuses on Law.

I reach for Law’s hand, gripping it tightly, reminding him that we’re not going to let anything happen to him. “Or should I cut your wrists along with them?” Doflamingo’s words make Law tense, his eyes narrowing in defiance.

I glance down at my blade, noticing that it’s channeling a different energy—a strange, shifting hue that I’ve never seen before. “What’s going on?” I think, feeling a mix of confusion and unease.

“Now, Princess, why don’t you come here where you belong?” Doflamingo continues, his voice dripping with sinister intent. “I have something special planned for the two of us.”

“Like what? Getting your ass kicked a fourth time by me? I’d like to see you try,” I retort, my voice firm and defiant despite the fear clawing at the edges of my composure.

Doflamingo’s grin widens, his eyes gleaming with a malevolent hunger. “Oh, don’t be so eager to test me. You see, I’ve grown quite fond of watching you struggle. It’s almost entertaining, watching your hopes crumble. But what I really want is to see you break, to see the despair in your eyes when you realize there’s nothing you can do. 

I clenched my fists, fury rising in me, but before I could snap back, Luffy stepped forward. “I thought you were back at the palace! What the hell are you doing down here?” he shouted, launching a punch. Doflamingo deflected it effortlessly, the punch ricocheting off the walls like a pebble.

“I came to rescue you, of course,” Doflamingo mocked. “You clearly need help if you're falling for traps like this.” He unleashed a barrage of sharp, bullet-like strings, aimed straight at Ucy. “I’ll put you out of your misery.”

“Ucy!” Luffy shouted, panic in his voice.

“Forget the bull, just get away!” Law yelled urgently as Ucy collapsed to the side, throwing us both into the freezing water.

“Y/N!” I heard Law call out, but the cold water overwhelmed me, my limbs freezing up as I struggled to keep Luffy afloat. The weight of my drenched dress and tiara was unbearable, but I couldn’t let Luffy sink. He couldn’t swim due to his Devil Fruit powers.

Doflamingo loomed over us, his voice full of contempt. “What a joke. Any fool could kill you in this sorry state. You’ve riled up a bunch of weaklings who think they can take my head, but now I see you’re nothing more than a pathetic joke.”

I gritted my teeth, my whole body shaking from the cold. We needed to get out of the water—fast.

Doflamingo turned to Law, his voice low and cutting. “Why side with this idiot, Law? When you were younger, you had such potential. Ruthless, cunning. Now look at you. Who turned you into this weak coward?”

“That’s enough!” Law shouted, seething with anger. “I won’t become like you! I was saved!”

Doflamingo’s expression turned darker, unimpressed. “Pathetic,” he hissed, raising a hand to send another attack toward Law.

Suddenly, one of the unwanted guests from before lunged forward. “You won’t lay a hand on Strawhat!” he yelled, trying to stab Doflamingo. But the blade passed through his body effortlessly.

“It’s not the real thing!” Law yelled, shaking with frustration. “It’s a puppet made of strings!”

“Damn clones,” I muttered, my teeth chattering as I tried to keep steady in the water. The cold was sinking into my bones, making it harder to stay upright. I could feel my strength fading.

“Thanks for the help!” I managed to shout to our unexpected allies. “Are you guys hurt?”

“Don’t worry about us! Let’s just get you both out of the water!” one of them called back, pulling Luffy out first. I was next, my entire body trembling from the cold as they dragged me back onto Ucy’s back.

I shivered uncontrollably, my soaked hair clinging to my face and my wet clothes weighing me down. Law, still in his cuffs, glanced at me and smirked despite everything. “Princess, you look freezing. Come here and huddle up for warmth,” he teased, his shirtless chest exposed under his coat.

I raised an eyebrow, still shaking, but couldn't deny how cold I was. “Oh, now you’re using this as an excuse, huh?” I teased back, but leaned into him, grateful for the heat. His body felt warm despite the freezing conditions, and I pressed close to him, trying to stop the relentless shivering.

One of the other guys frowned. “What happened to Doflamingo’s body? That didn’t seem like a real fight.”

“Moron,” Law snapped, though his voice was softened by the fact that I was still holding him close. “I told you, it’s only a puppet. Though I can’t figure out why he even bothered sending one here. Is he trying to taunt us, or is he planning something bigger?”

I glanced up at Law, the tension in his jaw evident and something else that caught my attention—my thigh felt lighter, and my left hand was empty.

“My blades!” I gasped, pulling away from Law. “I must have dropped them in the water,” I muttered, trying to spot them through the rippling surface. A faint shine caught my eye at the bottom. "There they are!" I said, starting to make my way back toward the edge of the water.

But before I could react, one of the unwanted guests jumped in. "No, Princess! Allow me to retrieve them!" he called out.

“Wait, you don’t—!” I began, but it was too late. He had already dived in.

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. “Hmm, maybe these don’t do anyth—" I began, before hearing him yelp. “Here they are!” he said, only to have the blades suddenly burst into flames. The man dropped them instantly, his hands burned as the heat seared him.

I sighed, shaking my head. “No one’s allowed to touch anything that’s mine—especially my blades and jewelry,” I explained, diving back into the water myself. I retrieved the blades with ease, feeling their familiar power hum through me as I returned to Ucy, securing them back into the thigh halter.

“Why did that happen?” Luffy asked, clearly amazed by what he’d just seen.

“King said the same thing when he gave them to me—anyone who tries to take my blades or jewelry gets a nasty surprise. Only I can use or wear them. Unless I deactivate the trigger myself, they’re off-limits,” I replied casually, brushing off the water as I moved back toward Law. I huddled close to him again, seeking warmth, his body still radiating a comforting heat.

“Sorry about that, you guys,” I said, a bit sheepishly.

“Oh, don’t worry, Princess! We aren’t mad at you!” one of the guys stammered, blushing furiously.

“Yeah, it was just a simple accident,” the other chimed in, trying to excuse the sudden situation with an awkward laugh.

Law, still handcuffed with his hands tied behind his back, smirked, watching me lean closer. “It’s always something with you, isn’t it?” he teased, his voice carrying that familiar, warm edge.

I pressed against him, shivering as the chill from the water still clung to my skin. “You’re warm, I need warmth,” I murmured, nuzzling into him without hesitation.

He tilted his head, unable to move his hands, but clearly enjoying my dependency on him. "I can’t do much about it with these cuffs, but you’re welcome to get as close as you need," Law quipped, his eyes flickering with amusement. “Though, I have to admit, I don’t mind this at all.”

I gave a playful smile, feeling a bit of my strength return. “Guess I’ll just have to stick around then,” I said, leaning more into him as his body heat slowly began to thaw my cold skin.

Law’s smirk grew. “As if I’d let you go anywhere else."

"Why do you think Doflamingo said he wanted to rescue us?" Luffy suddenly asked, his face twisted in confusion.

I lifted my head slightly, glancing between them. "That man doesn’t even know the meaning of the word ‘save.’ It’s a trap, Luffy. Everything with him is a setup." I shifted in Law’s chest, still feeling the chill, but unwilling to move away from his warmth.

One of the allies chimed in. "Oh, that reminds me—everything Kelly Funk said? He tricked us! That bastard was lying the whole time."

I pulled away from Law just enough to turn towards them, eyes narrowing. "I knew it! I could feel it—that guy had bad energy around him. We shouldn’t have trusted him."

"After we found out what he was planning, we knew we had to stop him," the ally continued. "Doflamingo took him down without even breaking a sweat."

"Man, Traffy was right—Mingo’s just taunting us!" Luffy muttered angrily, clenching his fists.

"Bastard’s playing a dangerous game," I agreed, feeling the strange hue return to my blades, now safely secured on my thigh holster.

Luffy’s mind was already racing to the next problem. "How’s Cabbage doing? Did he beat us to the top?"

"Yeah, we’re way behind," one of the guys answered. "Everyone’s probably already on the second level by now."

"Ugh! We need to get to the sunflower field. I needed that shortcut!" Luffy groaned, clearly frustrated.

"Hurry back to the entrance!" Law said, trying to strategize.

"No! I’ll make us an entrance!" Luffy grinned wildly, grabbing both Law and me.

"Luffy, what are you—" I started, but before I could finish, Luffy shouted, "Gomu Gomu no Elephant Gun!"

The massive punch ripped through the ceiling, creating a giant hole in the sky and opening a path to the second level.

“Alright! Y/N, Traffy, let’s go!” Luffy yelled, his enthusiasm unshakable.

Law sighed, clearly annoyed. "We could’ve been crushed!"

Ignoring him, Luffy grabbed both of us again and launched us towards the second level. We landed with a thud, soaking wet but unharmed.

“Good, now we’ve caught up with everyone else!” Luffy said with satisfaction, letting me go. I clung to Law for a moment longer, still cold and wet.

“Let’s go, Luffy!” I called, running alongside him, activating the familiar electrical charge in my hands. We sprinted towards the palace, determination in every step.

“Get back here, Princess!” a voice yelled from behind. A Doflamingo subordinate was hot on our heels.

“Not a chance!” I shouted, sending a bolt of lightning toward him, striking him down instantly.

As we continued running, Cabbage suddenly appeared on his horse. “Cabbage! You trying to get in my way again?” Luffy called out, half-joking.

“Not this time,” Cabbage responded with a dramatic flip of his hair. “Get in!”

“Huh?” Luffy and I blinked in confusion.

“I’ve decided to give you a ride,” Cabbage said, sounding as regal as ever. As he turned his horse, he noticed me. “Princess, come to the front. I’ll hold you!”

“Hell no!” I leaped into the air, gliding alongside them. “Luffy, get on!”

“Right! Let’s go!” Luffy shouted, jumping onto Cabbage’s horse with Law.

“Would it kill you to show a little gratitude?” Cabbage muttered to Luffy, annoyed.

I clenched one of my blades in my hand, feeling the familiar heat of fire surge through me. “You attack, and I’ll clear the path,” Cabbage called out, locking eyes with Luffy.

Just then, I noticed a fourth person had joined us on the horse—Kyros. “Hey, Kyros!” I called out, smiling despite the rush of adrenaline.

“Princess,” Kyros nodded back, keeping his focus ahead.

Cabbage continued to rant as we moved forward, but Luffy and I ignored him. "Rebecca is headed for the flower field," Luffy explained to Kyros.

“Rebecca?! Is she in danger?” Kyros asked, his voice filled with worry.

“Don’t worry, Kyros. She’s in good hands,” I reassured him, slashing the air with one of my blades, creating a fiery barrier in our path to protect us from incoming attacks.

“My elegant steed cannot maintain its grace with four people on its back!” Cabbage complained, but I cut him off with a sharp look.

“Cabbage, I’d appreciate it if you stopped yelling at my captain and Kyros!” I snapped, pausing mid-air.

Cabbage dramatically placed a hand over his heart, blinking at me. “Such fiery passion! Oh, we are so meant to be!”

I rolled my eyes, flying alongside them as we pushed forward. Allies below us fought valiantly against Doflamingo’s subordinates, clearing the way.

“You take out the boss! We’ll handle these lackeys!” a giant called out as we passed.

“Cabbage, get them to the palace, and fast!” one of the allies yelled.

“Thank you, guys!” I shouted back, grateful for the support as we neared the palace.

“This is getting fun! Let’s go!” Luffy shouted, grinning ear to ear as we all charged towards the palace together. One by one, Luffy's allies kept taking down the subordinates, giving us a clear path forward. While Cabbage rode ahead with Luffy, Law, and Kyros on his horse, I soared through the air beside them, scanning the battlefield below.

"Onward, Farul!" Cavendish called out to his horse, urging it forward, as I glided beside them, my eyes sharp for any signs of trouble.

"Hey, Luffy!" I called from above, catching his attention. "You think those guys are going to be alright? I saw Dellinger back there, along with that ton guy. Looks like he managed to pick himself back up after that punch I gave him." I clutched my blade, feeling the fire inside it flicker to life once more.

"Yeah, they’ll be fine!" Luffy responded confidently, shouting over the wind. "We just need to get to Mingo, and fast!" His eyes were fixed on the towering palace in the distance, determination blazing.

Just then, another group of subordinates appeared ahead of us. "Not so fast!" one of them yelled, blocking our path.

"Damn, they keep popping up like roaches," I muttered, preparing to strike. The familiar heat surged through me as I clenched my left hand, ready to ignite my blade once more.

But Cavendish raised his hand, stepping in. "Allow me, Princess." His eyes gleamed with pride as he unsheathed his sword. "Blade of Beauty, Sol Dux Paris!"

He cut through the air with a flourish, his attack striking with deadly precision. Luffy followed up instantly, launching a furious Jet Gatling that sent the remaining enemies flying.

"We’re almost there, guys!" I shouted, seeing the palace growing closer with every second. Deciding to conserve some of my energy for the final fight, I gracefully descended and landed behind Luffy on Cavendish’s horse.

"Welcome back, Y/N!" Luffy grinned, his energy never wavering.

I smiled back at him, but Cavendish immediately noticed the added weight on his stallion. His annoyance was instant. "Who else is riding my stallion?! It’s meant for elegance and grace, not... passengers!"

Peeking out from behind Luffy, I raised an eyebrow, amused. "You were saying?" I teased, giving him a pointed look.

Cavendish turned his head slightly, catching sight of me, and his dramatic frustration vanished in an instant. "Ah, Princess!" he said, his tone shifting. "I didn’t realize it was you... My apologies, your grace is always welcome."

I stifled a laugh, leaning forward. "That's what I thought," I said, rolling my eyes.

Cavendish, or "Cabbage" as Luffy called him, continued to land blow after blow with his sword, cutting down enemies left and right as we rode.

“The long-leg guy got beat!” Luffy shouted, looking back, ready to jump off and help.

"Luffy, we're almost at the palace!" I reminded him, gripping the horse tightly. "Don’t worry, they’ll be okay. Once Doflamingo is gone, we can go help everyone."

Before Luffy could respond, Cavendish cut him off. "This game is nothing but a way to get us all killed! The only way to save this island and its people is to get rid of Doflamingo." His voice was full of conviction as he spoke. "Despite his strength and advantages, he made one key error—the colosseum. I will defeat Doflamingo with my bare hands!"

Luffy’s expression turned into one of pure rage. "I already told you, I’m going to do it!" he shouted.

"This one’s personal!" Law interjected, his voice steady despite his handcuffs. "I’m the one who’s going to take Doflamingo down."

Kyros wasn’t backing down either. "Your passion is admirable, but this is my fight!" he said, his resolve clear in his voice.

Kyros clenched his fist tighter, his voice full of determination. "My grudge is from ten years ago. I won’t let him escape this time."

Law smirked slightly, his usual calm demeanor returning. "Well, my grudge is from thirteen years ago."

Luffy, not wanting to be left out, jumped in with enthusiasm. "Yeah? Well, my grudge is from thirty years ago!"

Cavendish shot him an incredulous look. "You dirty liar! You're not even thirty!" he snapped, his irritation evident.

I groaned, slapping my forehead in frustration. "Seriously?" I muttered under my breath before turning to face them. "Listen, we all have our own personal grudges when it comes to Doflamingo," I said, my voice firm. I glanced at my injured left shoulder and instinctively grasped my collarbone, feeling the ghost of Doflamingo’s grip on my neck. The memory of his hands tightening around me still sent shivers down my spine.

"But we need to work together," I continued, my frustration rising. "Arguing isn’t going to help us. Once we get there, we can figure it out. But right now, we need to stop fighting among ourselves!"

Before anyone could respond, we suddenly reached the third level. The air felt different, thick with an eerie fog. From the mist, shapes began to emerge, slowly taking form. I squinted through the haze, trying to make sense of what we were seeing.

"Holy... what the heck are those things?" Luffy said, his eyes wide with shock.

Before us, what appeared to be dead toys—broken, distorted, and unsettling—began shambling forward, their lifeless eyes staring straight at us. They moved in unnatural jerks, creaking with every step.

My breath caught in my throat as I gripped the reins tighter. "What the hell is this...?" I whispered, feeling a chill creep up my spine.

Sanji POV… 

I watched the mist-covered island, beginning to come through, but I couldn’t shake the sense of urgency gnawing at my gut. I was here to protect my crew, but my thoughts kept drifting elsewhere. Y/N. 

My cigarette hung loosely from my lips, the end flickering with each deep breath I took. I’d already gone through too many packs just thinking about her safety. Every puff seemed to ease the tension in my chest, but only for a moment. What if something had happened to her? What if Luffy and Mosshead were too late? 

“Sanji! You’re spacing out again.” Brook’s voice snapped me back to reality.

I flicked the cigarette away, letting the wind carry it off the side. “I’m fine, Brook. Just… thinking.” I straightened up, trying to focus on the task at hand. As Nami, Chopper, Caesar, and Brook continued walking ahead, I felt a deep sense of unease creep over me. The further we went, the heavier the atmosphere became, and something in the air made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

We rounded the bend, and that’s when I saw it—destruction as far as the eye could see. The once serene jungle of Zou was now littered with broken trees, debris, and ominous smoke rising into the air. Crucifixes, scattered like some macabre display, stood out among the wreckage. 

“What the hell happened here?” I muttered, my eyes scanning the scene. The devastation was overwhelming, the remnants of a violent battle etched into the land.

Y/N POV…

"I don't like this one bit," I muttered, my eyes scanning the eerie scene. The toys, now looking more unsettling than before, stood around us like silent sentinels.

"Are they tin soldiers?" Kyros whispered, his voice laced with suspicion.

"Is this supposed to be a joke?" Cavendish growled, Farul beginning to back up slightly in response to the tension.

"One of them fell over," Luffy said, pointing towards a toy soldier that had toppled onto the ground. Just then, to our horror, the toy soldier began chewing through the dirt, its jaw unhinging in a grotesque manner.

"What the hell is this?!" I yelped as we narrowly dodged the crazed attack.

"I'm going full speed," Cavendish declared, gripping the reins tightly. "You guys are going to have to take care of yourselves."

"We're completely surrounded!" I said, feeling the tension rise.

"Were there always this many?" Luffy asked, eyes wide as more toy soldiers began to emerge from the mist, their movements jerky and unnatural.

"What a nuisance," Cavendish said, his voice cold and calculated. "The only way to advance is to dispose of them."

"Alright!" Luffy grinned, flexing his arms. "You guys wanna join in?!"

Kyros quickly dismounted the horse, readying his sword. "Yeah!"

"Wait, Y/N," Luffy suddenly turned to me, his tone shifting to a more serious one. "You stay with Traffy on the horse. Gotta save your strength for the big fight, don’t we? Cabbage, Kyros, and I will take care of them."

I crossed my arms and pouted, feeling a bit left out. "Man... I wanted to join in on the fun!"

Law's voice, low and teasing, broke through my frustration. Still laying down on the horse, his handcuffed wrists resting behind his head, he smirked lazily. "Don’t pout, Princess. You’ll get your chance. Besides..." His gaze flicked over to me, eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "I’d rather keep you here with me. I might get cold without your warmth."

I raised an eyebrow, half-annoyed, half-amused. "Really, Law? In the middle of all this?"

His smirk widened, and he winked. "What can I say? I prefer the view here."

We turned back around, watching as Luffy, Cavendish, and Kyros moved through the toy soldiers with dynamic speed and precision. Their attacks were swift and powerful, each strike perfectly calculated to dismantle the advancing horde.

"Hmm, two minutes," I commented, a teasing smile playing on my lips as I glanced at the aftermath. "Looks like a new record, Captain."

Law, still lounging on the horse beside me, chuckled softly. "Typical Straw Hat... always a little over the top."

Luffy, hearing me, flashed his usual grin as he finished off the last toy soldier with a quick punch. "Gotta stay sharp!" he called back.

"Nice work," I said, still smiling, though my focus had already shifted forward. Luffy climbed up to the horse, followed by Kyros. Cavendish, however, remained oblivious that the group was already mounted.

"Cabbage, we’re waiting," Luffy laughed.

"Were you all just watching me?" Cavendish asked, clearly annoyed.

"Lighten up, Cabbage, now hop on," I said, a small grin tugging at my lips.

In an instant, the toys sprang up again, one of them launching a surprise attack on Farul. The impact knocked all of us to the ground.

"Horseeey!" Luffy cried out, his voice full of concern.

"Is he...?" I muttered, dread filling me as I saw the injured horse lying motionless, struck down by the toy's attack.

Luffy’s expression darkened, and with a quick motion, he launched a Jet Pistol at the center of the toy, knocking it down. "Farul!" Cavendish yelled as he knelt beside his horse. "Stay with me! I can’t believe it... they crushed its head."

"How are these toys still moving?!" I growled, clenching my right hand and pressing it against my left, activating the electrical charges flowing through me.

"How dare you! That’s my partner!" Cavendish roared, drawing his blade. "Blade of Beauty: Round Table!" He struck at the toy, but even that wasn’t enough. As we watched in disbelief, all the toys began to stir, coming back to life.

"You’ve got to be kidding me!" I said, exasperated.

Suddenly, a voice cried out from above, and a figure landed on top of the toy soldier. "Damn it, I got sloppy," the man said, shaking off the dust.

"It’s you?!" Luffy exclaimed, recognizing the figure.

I turned swiftly to Luffy, raising an eyebrow. "How do you know so many people?" I asked, half-amused, half-bewildered.

"Mr. Luffy! And... Princess Y/N!" The man’s eyes widened, tears streaming down his face as he began to cry out dramatically. "Oh, my dreams are coming true!"

Before I could respond, another figure appeared from above. "Robin!" Luffy and I shouted in unison.

Without thinking, I ran up and hugged her tightly. "Good to see you’re okay, Y/N," she said with a soft smile, though her expression quickly shifted when she noticed the bruising on my neck and collarbone. Her fingers lightly brushed against the marks.

"What happened to your necklace, Y/N?" she asked, her voice concerned.

I looked up at her, my emotions starting to well up. "Doflamingo... he yanked it and threw it on the ground, breaking it," I said, my voice wavering. "And the marks... they’re from him, too." I held onto Robin tighter, the weight of everything catching up to me.

Her arms wrapped protectively around me. Just then, Law approached us, his frustration evident. "Nico! You brought the key, didn’t you? Give it to me now!" he demanded, his eyes sharp with urgency.

We pulled away, and I made my way towards Law. "I left them with Rebecca," Robin replied, her tone steady despite the tension.

"Damn," I muttered, my frustration mounting. I had hoped someone would have the key.

"What?!" Kyros said, his concern palpable.

"She’s alright," Robin said reassuringly. "She’s headed to the flower field right now."

"Well, she got away," a voice said, dripping with disdain. "Even if she makes it into the palace, she won’t be able to do anything."

The figure emerged from the shadows, his face coming into view. He raised his eyes, locking them onto Luffy and me. "Strawhats," he said with a sneer. His gaze then shifted to me. "And you, the young master has been waiting for your capture."

Rage surged through me, and the blades in my thigh halter began to glow with their distinctive hue. "You can tell the young master he can shove it! I’m not his, and I never will be!" I shouted, the hue intensifying.

The man ignored my defiance, turning his attention to Robin. "I’ll kill Rebecca once I’m done with you."

"Bastard!" Kyros spat, his anger barely contained.

"I know you!" Luffy exclaimed, his voice filled with determination. "The name’s Gladious, and I’m putting an end to this rebellion."

The toy soldiers began to move again, and I yanked one of my blades from its sheath. Blue flames danced around it, ready for action. "Rooster, let’s go!" Robin commanded as she and her partner took their positions.

"Luffy, Traffy, Soldier, Y/N, go ahead to the flower field and get that key," Robin said decisively. "We can handle this."

"Are you sure, Robin?" I asked, my voice wavering with concern.

"Rebecca is waiting! Just go!" she insisted, her voice unwavering. With a determined nod, Luffy agreed with Robin. Gladious then launched his attack, but before Luffy could react, he was blocked by a massive shield. "Mr. Luffy, let me take care of it!" Rooster called out, stepping forward. "Barrier!" The enormous protective barrier shielded us from the oncoming assault.

I quickly placed my blade back into the thigh halter, securing it as the blue hue faded from my weapon. I couldn't help but wonder why the hue kept appearing whenever I felt intense emotions. Gladious groaned in frustration and summoned the toy soldiers once more.

I clenched my right hand, feeling an intense surge of power as I prepared for the fight. "Luffy, let’s clear a path!" I shouted. With a powerful punch, I struck the ground, unleashing my technique, Celestial Rupture. The impact created a massive shockwave that rippled through the area, causing the toy soldiers to collapse and shatter under the tremendous force. The ground cracked and trembled as debris flew in all directions, dismantling the toys in a spectacular display of devastation.

Luffy, seizing the moment, unleashed his Jet Whip with fierce precision. His rapid kicks and strikes sent the remaining toys hurtling through the air, their bodies disintegrating upon impact with his powerful attacks.

 “Rooster head” or how luffy called him was stunned. “Sweet! I got front row seats to a Jet Whip strike and a combination of beauty and strength by the Princess! What a day!” He swooned, clearly awestruck.

“Stop wasting time!” Law snapped, his irritation evident. “We’ve been fighting these stupid dolls forever! Hurry it up, Strawhat!”

With a determined glint in my eye, I leaped backward into the air, landing next to Law. I crouched down beside him, my fingers playfully sliding through the back of his hair. Law tensed slightly at first, but soon, a soft groan escaped him as I let my fingers slowly trail down to the back of his neck, brushing against his skin.

His hat shielded most of his face, but I caught the faint blush creeping up his cheeks. His eyes, darker now, looked at me with a mix of tension and something deeper. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I teased softly, my voice low and flirtatious.

Law exhaled deeply, his head tipping just slightly into my touch. “You have no idea,” he murmured, his tone rougher, edged with a teasing promise of his own. His voice dropped as his eyes met mine, unwavering. “Once these cuffs are off…”

I raised an eyebrow, my smirk widening. “Once these cuffs are off… what?” I whispered, letting my fingers linger at the back of his neck, feeling the slight shiver that ran through him.

Law’s smirk matched mine, his gaze intense. “You’ll find out.” He leaned into my touch just enough to send a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

I chuckled softly, pulling my hand away, the warmth between us lingering. 

As Luffy ascended the barrier stairs, Rooster Head was still celebrating his moment of glory. “Thank you for being born!” he exclaimed, still on the ground in a state of utter adoration. His enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at his dramatic display.

Finally reaching the top, Luffy, with me over his shoulder, and Law beside him, saw Rebecca waiting eagerly. “Rebecca!” Luffy shouted, his voice full of relief. “Lucy! You made it!”

Rebecca’s face lit up as she held up the key. “Luffy, here!” she called out, tossing the key toward him. At that moment, a toy soldier lunged towards us, its mouth open menacingly.

“Luffy, now!” I yelled, bracing for impact. With quick reflexes, Luffy grabbed the key and unlocked Law’s cuffs. Law and Luffy landed gracefully, and as I prepared to propel myself into the air, Law swiftly caught me mid-flight.

He looked at me with a smirk, his eyes betraying a mix of relief and amusement. “You really do have a knack for needing rescuing, don’t you?” he teased, his voice low and warm.  

I raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at my lips. “Was this your way of showing me what you’d do once your cuffs were off?”

Law’s gaze deepened, and he grabbed my wrist as we both landed safely on the ground. His voice was dangerously low, “Not even close, princess.”

A faint blush colored my cheeks, and I froze for a moment, caught off guard by his intensity.

Luffy, oblivious to our exchange, cheered with enthusiasm. “We finally made it!”

“About damn time too!” I said, shaking off the lingering heat in my cheeks and walking towards him with Law by my side. 

Luffy, Law, and I stood together, but I could sense Law’s distraction. "Finally free," he muttered, flexing his hands, now rid of the sea prism stone cuffs.

“This is it—the fourth level where Mingo's hiding. Let’s tear this place apart!” Luffy said, determined.

I clenched my fists connecting them, the fiery energy and electric pulses blending as they surged through me. "You had me at tearing this place apart, Captain," I said with a wicked grin.

Just then, a voice cut through the air. “Law! Strawhat! Princess!”

My blades began glowing again—this time, my left hand pulsed with blue energy, while my right hand gleamed white. I glanced at them in confusion. “What the hell is happening now?”

“It’s Diamante,” Law growled, his expression darkening as the man approached. Kyros leapt forward, blocking his attack. “You three go ahead!” Kyros shouted. “I’ve got a score to settle with him. Kill that bastard!"

Luffy and Law both shouted back, “Leave it to us!”

I couldn’t help but smirk. "Make sure you whoop his ass for us, Kyros!" But before we could charge forward, Law grabbed my arm, pulling me back. I unclenched my hands, feeling the energy dissipate.

"Strawhat, let’s move," Law ordered.

"Yeah!" Luffy nodded, pausing only to thank Rebecca for her help.

"Will you really defeat Doflamingo?" she asked, eyes full of hope.

Luffy turned, his face serious. “My name isn’t Lucy, it’s Luffy. And I’m going to be King of the Pirates!"

I couldn’t help but smile at his bold declaration. His conviction never wavered, and I felt proud to be by his side. “There’s no need to worry,” Luffy reassured Rebecca as we ran towards the palace.

Just as we neared, Diamante unleashed his Devil Fruit powers. “You pain in the ass brat, you stubborn fool, and you—traitor!”

Before we could fight back, Law stopped us. “Wait. Room!” The dome surrounded us, and in a flash, we were transported to the palace pool area.

"So this is the place," Luffy remarked, standing up.

"Took long enough," Law replied, his voice tense.

"Wow, your ability really comes in handy," I said, impressed but noticing how drained he looked.

"Yeah, princess, but it takes a toll. With the sea prism cuffs and you carrying me around, I saved just enough energy," Law said, forming a smaller circle. “Scalpel.”

To my shock, Law groaned as he reached into his own stomach, pulling out two bullets. Luffy and I watched in silence as the bloody projectiles hit the ground.

My hand instinctively went to my left shoulder, remembering the bullet lodged there. Luffy noticed and turned to me, his eyes widening. “Wait, Y/N, weren’t you shot too by Mingo?

Law’s hands hovered over the wound, his eyes wide with shock as he traced the damage. His breath came out in sharp, shallow bursts. I could feel the tension radiating off of him, the way his fingers trembled ever so slightly.

"You were shot?" His voice was a low growl, almost feral, as if he was holding himself back from exploding.

I nodded, trying to keep things light. "It’s not as bad as it looks, Law. Really, I’m—"

“By Mingo?” he cut me off, his voice trembling with barely controlled fury. His eyes locked onto mine, dark and intense, and suddenly the world felt too small. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” His words were clipped, barely restrained, as if holding back a storm.

I winced as his hand gently, but firmly, pressed against the wound, inspecting the damage. “It happened when you were unconscious back at the colosseum. I didn’t think it—"

"You didn’t think it mattered?” His voice was cold now, deadly. He yanked his hand back from my shoulder as if it burned him. “He hurt you, and you kept quiet?!”

I swallowed hard, trying to reason with him. “It all happened so fast, I was facing Doflamingo head on. I just needed to—”

He stepped back, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white, his jaw clenched hard enough to crack teeth. “That bastard,” he hissed. His entire body seemed to be trembling with a rage that was about to boil over. 

“Why is your wound more damaged?!” he yelled, his usual calm shattered as the reality of what Doflamingo had done started to sink in.

I sighed, knowing this was coming, knowing he wasn’t going to let it go. His concern felt suffocating, but there was no escaping it now. “When… I got to the palace, I was tied with his strings. You were still unconscious in a chair next to me,” I began, my voice trembling slightly as the memories resurfaced. I could still feel the tight grip of those cursed strings around me.

Closing my eyes, I forced myself to continue, even as the memory sent a chill through me. “He… kept trying to touch my collarbone and my exposed shoulders, but I pushed his hand away every time. That’s when he got angry… and he dug his finger into the bullet wound,” I whispered, my voice fading as the pain of that moment surged back into my body. I could still feel his fingers pressing into the wound, the sharp sting, the agony as he twisted it just to make me suffer more. My breath caught for a moment as I tried to shake it off.

Law's eyes darkened further, his hands trembling as his fingers curled into fists so tight his knuckles turned white. "That sick bastard…" he muttered, fury evident in every word. He looked as if he was ready to destroy everything in his path just to get to Doflamingo. His protective instincts surged, his anger almost tangible in the air around him.

“He wanted to break me, Law,” I admitted quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. “He thought he could control me… that he could use my pain to make me bend to his will.”

Law’s gaze softened for just a moment, the rage still there, but now mixed with a deep, unspoken regret. He reached out, gently touching the edge of my wounded shoulder.

"None of that matters now." I said quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from my injuries. "We’re here now. I’m fine.”

But Law wasn’t listening. He was already forming the circle around me, his fingers moving with precision but shaking with anger. “This is going to hurt,” he muttered, his voice strained.

“Scalpel.”

The sharp pain of the bullet being removed shot through me, but I clenched my jaw, determined not to make a sound. The lead bullet dropped to the ground with a dull thud, and Law froze, staring at it. His eyes darkened with something far more dangerous than before.

“Lead bullets,” he whispered, the anger building in his voice. His fists clenched again, shaking with rage. "He used lead bullets on you."

The cold fury in his voice sent a chill down my spine. Law straightened up, his whole body rigid with barely contained violence. “I’m going to kill him,” he swore, his voice low, trembling with hatred. “I’ll rip him apart for this.”

I reached for his arm, trying to ground him, but he pulled away, eyes fixed on the horizon. “Law—”

“No,” he snapped, his voice a growl. "This ends here. That bastard will pay for every second of pain he caused you."

“What... did you just say?” Luffy’s voice was low, almost calm. Too calm. His eyes darkened as they shifted between Law and the bullet. 

Luffy’s head snapped toward Law, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Lead bullets?" His voice was low, but there was an underlying tension. He glanced at the bullet on the ground and then back at Law. "Wait... is that the same kind of bullet they used back at the Colosseum?"

Law nodded grimly. "Yeah, it's the same. It’s not just a regular bullet. Lead poisoning slowly kills you from the inside out. That bastard… he planned to make Y/N suffer.”

Luffy’s face tightened, his jaw clenching as the realization sank in. His fists began to tremble, knuckles white with the force of his grip. “He used these on Y/N…” His voice dropped dangerously low. “That bastard used those on my crew.”

His gaze shot toward the palace, his eyes now burning with an intense rage. “DOFLAMINGO!”

Without warning, Luffy slammed his fist into the ground, the sheer force sending cracks through the stone. “I’m not letting him get away with this!" His voice grew louder, filled with fury. "Nobody hurts my friends like this!”

He shot a determined look at Law and me, his face hardened with resolve. “We’re ending this—NOW.”

he declared, his voice low but filled with the fire of determination.

My hands began to tremble, the weight of everything crashing down on me. The memories of Doflamingo’s torment, the fear that my friends wouldn’t reach me—it all hit at once. The strength I’d tried to hold onto started to slip away.

I turned to Luffy, my vision blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. “Luffy... for a moment...” My voice cracked, the tears I had been holding back finally spilling over. “I thought you and Zoro wouldn’t make it on time,” I whispered, a single tear slipping down my cheek.

Luffy's expression softened, the fiery determination in his eyes mixed with something warmer—reassurance. "We're here, Y/N. And we're not going anywhere," he said, his voice steady, filled with a strength that reminded me why I could always count on him.

As I stood there, trying to calm my shaking hands, I suddenly felt two strong arms wrap around my waist from behind. Law’s grip tightened, his hat tilted low, hiding his face. But I could feel something wet hit the back of my neck—tears. His voice, usually so controlled, cracked with emotion as he whispered, "Princess... I..." He hesitated, his words barely coming through. "I couldn’t protect Cora... and I couldn’t even protect you..."

The weight of his pain hit me as hard as my own. I turned around gently, cupping his face in my hands. His eyes were glossy, filled with guilt and sorrow. "It’s okay, Law. I’m okay," I whispered, wiping his tears away with my thumb. I didn’t want him to carry that burden any longer.

With a soft smile, I reached for my tiara, removing it from my head and handing it to him. "Hold on to this for me," I said, looking into his eyes as if to reassure him that I would be fine.

I turned to face both Luffy and Law, determination settling back into my chest. "Let’s go kick Mingo’s ass!" I declared, trying to ignite the fire in both of them.

Just as Luffy and I were about to start walking, Law reached out. "Wait, Y/N!" he called, his voice returning to its usual sharp tone. "We need to come up with a plan. We can’t underestimate him."

Luffy crossed his arms, huffing in frustration. "Look, Mingo’s getting an ass-kicking whether there’s a plan or not. So let’s go!" he retorted, his fists clenching with excitement and impatience.

The two began to bicker back and forth, Law trying to be strategic while Luffy, in true fashion, was ready to charge straight into the fight.

Their voices suddenly quieted as we all heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching from inside the palace. Our gazes snapped towards the source, the tension thickening as we realized someone—or something—was coming.

Usopp POV… 

I readied my slingshot, my hands a little shaky but steady enough. Kanjuro was preparing the drawing we'd use to stop Sugar. Viola, with her clairvoyance, was crucial now—her eyes could see what was heading our way.

"It's going to create a level playing field with Sugar," I muttered, grabbing the wrapped-up drawing and heading back to my station.

"Viola, I'm going to need your clairvoyance. I want you to relay every move Sugar makes," I instructed, my voice more confident than I felt. Viola nodded with determination.

"I am the sniper. This is where I shine. I take out enemies from afar and protect my team!" I whispered to myself, pulling my goggles down over my eyes.

"Viola... make me proud," said King Riku, his trust pushing me to do better.

"I can see her now! Sugar is approaching them from behind," Viola called out, her eyes locked on the scene. Hack and King Riku were ready to provide backup, making sure no one could sneak up on us.

"She's nearing your friends at a steady pace; she's in their line of sight!" Viola continued.

"Keep your eyes on her!" I urged, my heart pounding in my chest. "I gotta make this count!"

"Sugar’s in the yard now," Viola said urgently. "It seems she’s crying, trying to play the sympathy card with your friends. And... Law is holding onto the waist of the princess."

I let out a breath, smirking slightly. "Really? I just know Sanji would have a field day if he was hearing this," I muttered under my breath, trying to distract myself from the pressure.

"They’re about to leave her behind, but... wait, they’ve turned back," Viola informed me, her voice laced with concern.

I began to pull back the strap of my slingshot, as far as I could go. The tension in my arms, my nerves, everything was tightening. "You gotta tell me her exact location!" I shouted.

"Look at the top of the towers, the windows in the center! I can see them, but there’s an iron bar over it," Viola explained quickly. "There’s a bottom bar too, about four feet from the ground."

"Sugar’s still behind the column! She's advancing—she should be in the middle any moment now!" Viola said, worry creeping into her voice.

"My target's behind a damn wall. If I miss, it's goodbye, Luffy!" I muttered, feeling sweat drip down my face. The anxiety spiked, and I swallowed thickly, shaking my head to push away the “what-ifs.”

"We have to nail this! No matter what!" I growled, gritting my teeth. The pressure mounted, but I had to keep steady.

"Hey, Luffy, Y/N... I don’t want to miss this, and I don’t want to head to the seas without you or Y/N!" My thoughts raced as I focused.

"I can see their auras!" I thought to myself. Then, the moment came. "Special long-range attack!" I shouted, releasing the slingshot, the projectile flying through the air toward its target.

"Luffy, Y/N... I’ve got your back, even if you don’t realize it. Keep pushing ahead!" I thought, my hands trembling as I waited for the impact.

And then—Sugar was out cold. Her trauma reignited, rendering her unconscious.

"Outstanding! You pulled it off! You really are a sniper. Sugar is down for the count!" Viola said, tears in her eyes.

"How are they?" I asked, my heart still pounding in my chest.

"They're all fine, Usopp. Nice work!" Viola said with a smile, her voice full of relief.

I let out a long breath, feeling the weight lift from my shoulders. I did it. We did it.

[iwaoiness]

Valentine's

When Oikawa shuffles to the bathroom after getting out of bed (once he stretching like a cat, rubbing his face and staring at the ceiling with his feet on his boyfriend's back for five minutes while rethinking his existence in the vast world), he expects to relieve himself and begin his sacred three-step skincare before the daily duel with his hair.

This time, however, he is only able to do the former.

As he lifts his gaze from the sink, hands freshly cleansed, to meet his reflection, Oikawa’s sleepy eyes widen like saucers and his lips part. Instead of his reflection, there are dozens and dozens of white post-it notes covering the entire mirror— each slip of paper has different strokes on it, forming a giant tulip whose petals are painted in sky blue.

What the actual fuck.

Oikawa blinks and then rubs his eyes, thinking he’s still dreaming. But the drawing is still there, and when he gets a little closer, eyes squinting to fight his myopia, he can read the same thick, crooked kanjis that all the slips of paper have in the bottom corner: turn me.

With a tentative hand, he plucks the first post-it note, flipping it over with curiosity.

you’re my calm

The smile immediately spreads across Tooru's face, genuine, tender and drunk with love. Warmth begins to blossom inside his chest, spreading with the fluffiness of a cloud throughout his body, as he reaches another post-it.

you’re beatiful

And another one.

you’re mine

And then another, and another, and another, and another, and another, and another.

you’re my light

you’re my home

you’re serenety

im in love with your bed hair

dont forget to wash your teeth

"Asshole" Oikawa, leaning against the sink, sneers with a wet voice but an indelible smile on his face as he continues to take the post-its and read them, one by one.

you’re my strength

you’re the heart of my heart

my tall and pretty boy

our souls are mates

you’re intelligent as hell

you’re my valentines

i couldn’t be prouder to have u as a partner

te quiero tanto, tooru

loving you is being free

you’re my favourite constellation

And when he reaches the last note and turns around, Tooru wants to cry.

Or well, he's already crying.

you're all i need and want

Oikawa lets out a soft laugh through his tears, sniffling through his nose before wiping his face with one of his shirt sleeves.

He loves Hajime so much that all that love overflows from his heart. Their bond is so strong, so solid, so immense, so ethereal. There are no words to encompass it, nothing that comes close. Loving Iwa-chan is part of his being, something he's been doing since before he could even babble.

And it's the same for Hajime. He loves Tooru as Tooru loves him. And he doesn't need more. They don't need any more.

He carefully leaves the post-its on the high shelf in the bathroom and runs back to the room. Iwaizumi (who pretends to sleep until he hears his boyfriend's hurried footsteps and smiles) barely has time to roll onto his back before Oikawa leaps at him, taking his breath away with a big oof.

"How did you do that?" Oikawa murmurs against Iwaizumi's neck, his long arms stretched out on either side of his head and his legs entangled.

Hajime snorts with amusement, wraps Oikawa against his chest, gently kisses his temple and plunges his hand into his tousled tresses.

"It hasn't been difficult having a boyfriend with such a heavy sleeper”

Oikawa lets out a mock squawk of indignation, shaking his head in playful disbelief. Iwaizumi turns to face him, his grin widening as he locks eyes with Oikawa's narrowed gaze, his irises gleaming like honey in the sunlight against his flushed cheeks. They're close, close enough for their noses to almost touch, and Hajime can discern each freckle sprinkled across Tooru's nose.

“I hate you, Iwa-chan. You'd better have a real bouquet of tulips ready” Oikawa arches an eyebrow, but his lips curve treacherously into a genuine smile as his hand now moves to caress Iwaizumi's face.

"I knew I should have drawn a cactus" He rolls his eyes in amusement, giving Tooru's waist a gentle squeeze as he laughs.

"I love you so much," Oikawa whispers shortly after, gently stroking Iwa’s cheek with his thumb. "You are all I need and want, too. My everything."

Iwaizumi tilts his face and rubs his nostrils tenderly, his eyes watery and love coursing through his veins with the warmth of the summer sun.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Tooru."

...

hope u enjoyed valentine's day!! ♡ 

u can find more fics and find me on my ao3 🍉

[the1975attheirverybest]

blurb request hehe matty helps george dye his hair because charli usually does it but they are on tour so she can’t do it, maybe buzz it as well idk you do youu !

Awwwww this is so fuckin cute I have to at least attempt it. Idk if it’s shit or not but here it goes.

—

Matty stood over the the sink brushing his teeth and going over the changed set list in his head. He bent down to spit and turned the faucet on.

“‘Scuse me,” George absent-mindedly squeezed in next to him, bumping his hip into Matty’s as he got closer to the mirror.

Matty frowned, looking up at his friend with a mouth full of toothpaste foam and giving him a vaguely passive-aversive, ‘I’m literally standing right here’ shrug. “Oi! The dressing room has literally five other mirrors you can use.” Matty spoke once he’d rinsed out his mouth.

George rolled his eyes. “Then you go use another one.”

Matty’s lips parted. He was getting ready to explain to his friend that this one was obviously the only mirror that happens to be attached to a sink, and thus the only correct choice for a person who’s brushing their teeth, but it was just too exhausting a debate, plus, he could tell that George is too distracted to be listening, anyway. “What’s the matter, then?” He found a towel to wipe his hand on.

“What?” George attempted to keep listening to Matty’s voice in the background as he ran his hands through his air with a frown on his face.

“Why have you got that look on your face?”

“It’s this fuckin hair.”

Matty stood up on the tips of his toes, hovering over George’s shoulder to take a look at what seemed to be occupying his attention. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s not the right shade anymore. And it’s growing.” George directed his response at Matty’s reflection in the mirror.

“Generally what hair tends to do.”

“Well, I hate it when that happens.”

“So, get it done then. I don’t understand the issue.”

“The issue is,” George sprinted over to his bag, pulling out a box of hair dye. “I’ve got this. But I just can’t bring myself to do it.”

“Why not?!” Matty took the box from him, checking out the instructions.

“Well…umm, Charli usually helps me get all the right spots that I always miss, and….do you see Charli anywhere?”

Matty burst into laughter. “THAT’S your issue?”

“Oh, fuck off! Should’ve have told you. Whatever. Just- just give me the dye thing and I’ll sort it out.”

Stifling his giggles, Matty tore the box open. “Alright, fine, I’ll do it”

“What?! No! What makes you think I’d let you-“

“Mate, it’s just box dye. Relax. I’ve done it before.”

“No you haven’t.”

“Yes, I have. Do you remember the pink hair? And the blue? And the green? And the blond? Pretty sure there as purple in there somewhere. Or maybe that was just a faded color…”

“Gabby did that.” George reminded him.

“Only the first couple of times! I did the rest. And your hair’s shorter than mine anyway. Makes it easier.”

Matty looked around for items he could use. “Hold on. I’ve got clippers somewhere. Let’s ummm…get rid of the extra inches.”

“They’re Ross’s.”

“Nope. Mine. You think Mr. Supernaturally perfect hair would use something that makes a whirring sound on that beautiful head of his?”

George considered his options for a moment. It was either let Matty run wild, or find a professional in the two hour free period in their pre-show schedule. So, he gave in. “Fine. Alright. But if you fuck this up”

“Then we’ll just make you completely bald” Matty laughed as he imagined it.

“Matty!”

“Im kidding! Jesus. Relax. I know what im doing.”

“I certainly hope you do.”

***

“Alright! What do we think? You’re looking fresh if I may say so myself.” Matty stepped back admiring his hand work.

George squinted into the mirror checking himself out form different angles to make sure that Matty hadn’t missed anything. “Yeah. Yeah. Looks fine. Thanks.”

“We’re not done yet. I’m going to need you to sit down for this next bit.”

George finally cracked a smile. “Alright, hobbit. Let me get a chair.”

“For the LAST fuckin time. My height?! Normal. You??? A GIANT!”

“Whatever makes you feel better Smurf.”

“Okay, fuck you. Just for that, I’m coloring your hair blue.”

“You can dye my hair the wrong color. I’d still be taller than you.” George chuckled.

“Sit in that chair and shut the fuck up so I can get working on my masterpiece. You bully Charli like that when she does your hair for you?”

“No, cuz she’s perfect.” George mumbled, a tint of sadness in his voice.

“Awe. That’s weirdly sweet.”

***

“Do I- wanna know?” Ross asked as he walked through the door.

“Oh, nothing nefarious. Just dyeing George’s hair.”

Ross rushed over to them, gasping and covering his mouth with his hand as he looked down at George’s head.

“What? Fuckin hell, Matty! What? What’s he done to my head?” George whipped his head to the side to look at Ross’s stunned face. Cause Matty to grumpily mumble something about art or accuracy or something.

Ross stepped back laughing and tilting his head back. “Nothing, I’m just fuckin with you.”

Ross stepped up close again, watching Matty’s work with an intense, focused gaze. “It’s kind of nice actually. He’s really into it. It’s like he’s coloring one hair at a time.”

Moments later, the dressing room door opened again and Adam walked in. “Jesus Christ. What’re you up to?”

Ross turned around briefly. “Come have a look. Matty’s doing George’s hair.”

***

“Right, then.” Matty mumbled to himself. Setting down the remaining dye and taking a deep breath. “And then, Matty looked at his creation and saw that it was good!” He yelled out, making his friends giggle. “So? Thoughts? Perfect, yeah?” He grinned widely. “Smells too strong.” George grumbled. “Well…I can’t do anything about THAT. That came from the manufacturer.”

“Did you get the spot behind the ear?” George turned to the side to see his own profile in the mirror.

“Yes, George.” Matty rolled his eyes.

“And the sides?”

“Wait, you wanted the sides done, too? Bro, you should’ve said something!”

“What do you mean I should’ve said something, it’s implied in the- you’re just messin’ aren’t you?”

Matty giggled. “Course I am! Why would I leave anything out? Stop second guessing my work. It’s all good. I promise!”

***

“Alright!” Matty yelled out when he heard George hop out of the shower. “Moment of truth. Drumroll for the drummer please!”

Adam and Ross banged on the coffee table dramatically. As Matty counted down.

“3…2….1… TA- DA!”

George jumped out in his underwear revealing his perfectly dyed her.

Ross clapped, obscuring Adam’s sweet compliments and Matty whistled loudly.

“George. Sexy. Beautiful. Stunning. Who’s your hair artist?” Matty laughed. “You simply MUST give us his contact info.”

“Piss off…”

[hermesserpent-stuff]

This is a one-shot from the future bit of my mer au. Its after otto has been captured by humans and his first encounter with Quentin.

In this au most of the villains are different kinds of mers that have been captured for underground fights inside of tanks.

Warnings!:

Nonsexual nonconsual touching

fight rings

blood

injury

Otto snarls low and deep as he presses down in the corner of this terrible cage. The water is dark with the blood of the mer that he had fought. The cecaelia can hear the sound of humans outside of the tank, but the water is so full of filth and blood that he cannot see them through what should be clear glass. His tentacles swirl around him, agitated. He had been brought her to act as an amusement for these foul humans. It makes his teeth nash and his limbs thrash. He does not wish to be entertainment! But he is also unwilling to die. Not here. Not in front of these creatures.

The body of the foreign mer is dragged out with a net. Otto is not sure if the other is dead or just severely injured. Did it matter? Otto had to survive. He does absently hope Electro had manage to slip away. And that he would not need to face him in this forsaken tank.

The humans attempt to get him to move from the bottom of the tank. They try making the water rough. They try nets. They try spears of a sort. But Otto had survived so many attempts to hunt him. They had only been successful this last time because he had been defending Electro. And they got a lucky shot. 

It seems that they give up after a while. He curls up tight, staring out at the murky water. He settles slightly. But he is ready to fight. The water burns his gills, but he will not surface. He is unsure how much time passes. His body feels exhausted, both from stress and from fighting, but he will not sleep. How could he?

Then something is dropped into the water. It spends a moment on the surface and then sinks like a shell. Or a holed ship. Otto peers through the murk. It seems to be another mer. But this one is not moving. There is something strange sprouting from its back. The water seems to shimmer around it. Is it a threat? He will not wait to find out. He moves forward and the mer reacts, head popping up, and tail swinging down. It seems to be holding onto a bubble of air with his hands and odd back fins. 

Otto grabs its tail and yanks him back. He knocks the bubble loose from the other mer’s hands as the strange fins beat the water and Otto growls. He shoves the mer to the bottom banging him against the false ground, tentacles wrapping around the strange fins while another locks the mer’s hands together. The other mer freezes, blue eyes wide.

“I don't- I don't want to fight.”

The stranger murmers/ Otto growls as he leans over the other mer. He flashes his sharp teeth and the other mer flinches a little. 

“Not fighting!”

The mer shifts a little and then goes slack as it says this. Otto tightens his grip for a moment. His eyes narrow.

“What are you?”

He had never seen a mer that looked like this before. The stranger blinks and then speaks.

“Melusine. Im Quentin.”

Quentin’s back ‘fins’ shift a little and Otto tightens his grip again. Quentin winces. 

“No fighting.”

Otto growls deeply. Quentin scrunches his nose.

“I'm not trying to! I don't always fully control my wings.”

They twitch a little again. Otto narrows his eyes at them, his innate curiosity swirling through him. But he has other questions first. The water continues to shimmer around Quentin.

“What is this place?”

“A tank?”

Quentin tilts his head and Otto hisses. 

“Details, please.”

The please is a dark hiss. Quentin tucks his chin down and the wings shift again against the coils of Otto’s tentacles.

“I misunderstood. Sorry. This is a fight tank. And normally you fight here till, one, the humans feel the fight is over, two you knock another mer out, or three you kill them. Though, they don't like killing very much.”

“Then why didn't you fight?”

The other had immediately sunk to the bottom of the tank.

“Well, normally, you'd be moved to the holder tanks after one fight. Believe me, I wasn't expecting you here! At all.”

The other chirps and huffs in an aggravated manner. Otto stays silent to let the other mer speak. Silence tends to draw out a lot more words than constant questions. He had learned that from interacting with Electro. 

“I purify, so normally no one else is in the fight tank. They normally have me in here alone for a bit till you can actually see through the water. But, it's so salty. Maybe because you're still here? Are you from the ocean? I've never seen a mer like you, even in the hold tanks.”

The mer babbles a little, wings shifting slightly. The water shimmers a little more. Otto watches carefully, searching for any lies. The other mer looks uncomfortable, but truthful. 

“Hold tanks?”

Otto probes while his eyes glance at the strange wings. He knew of birds from them soaring over and swimming in the ocean waves and from Eletro speaking of the fondly. But they had feathers. These wings seem to have membranes much like fins. A claw could probably tear through them.

Quentin squirms a little and Otto hisses. Quentin stills again. Otto does not think that the other mer is doing it on purpose. But still, Otto wishes to maintain control. So he persists with his threatening.

“The hold tanks are where they take you between fights. That's where they feed you and let you sleep. And heal. Thought the healing bits a bit iffy.”

The wings twitch again. Quentin winces and very clearly tries to still. Good. 

“So you just let yourself be carted around for the human’s amusement?”

Otto scoffs. Quentin looks a little offended.

“Haven't got much choice in the matter. If it was up to me I'd be back in my well!”

The mer flashes his teeth for the first time and Otto snarls. Quentin covers his teeth quickly. Otto tightens his grip a little more and Quentin winces again. Otto feels a flash of hopelessness as he tries to think through this. There seems to be no escape. 

“I- I don't have much else to tell you… You can try sitting it out in this tank, but they’ll either make you fight more often and starve you out or they might try to drain it out and dry you out. I've heard lots of stories from the other mers here. ”

Otto responds with a hum, loosening his grip slightly, but not letting go. He would have to figure out a plan later. He would have to see the holding tanks to get a better idea of the place. But right now his curiosity is killing him. He reaches out with his fingers, mindful of his claws, and touches the wing. It feels a bit like fin material. But just slightly thicker. It shifts under his hand. 

“What are you doing to the water?”

Otto asks suddenly, having noticed the shimmering seems to emanate from Quentin. The cecaelia is familiar with many powers of many mers, but had never encountered a melusine before. Then again, from what he knows of wells, it is no surprise he had not met one if that is where they are from.

“Purifying. That's what melusines do.”

The wing shifts under his palm and Quentin squeezes his eyes shut as Otto runs his hand over the membrane. 

“I'd like a little more detail than that.” 

Otto says in a polite tone as his eyes study the wing under his hand. 

“I don't know how it works. In all my centuries I never had a way of even tracking it consistently till they brought me here…”

Otto pushes at the wing tip, forcing it to open fully. Quentin hisses and squirms, causing Otto to tighten his grip again. Quentin’s eyes stay tightly closed.

“Please don't tear my wing. That is as far as it opens.”

Otto notes that the mer sounds genuinely fearful. He lets the wing go.

“I see. And do you use these to fly?”

The other mer takes a second and then reopens his eyes to look at Otto and then away.

“I… never really did. I mostly used them to move up the wall of my well. Or to catch air so I can sleep.”

Otto is semi-satisfied with the answer. 

“I see”

Quentin looks back at him and seems to notice something.

“Your gills are bleeding.”

Otto blinks and then gently touches his throat, a faint pain greets his claw tips. Quentin’s hands raise up and Otto hisses and yanks them down. Quentin winces. 

“I can help; let me.”

Otto is curious. So he lets Quentin move his bound hands up. Fingertips touch his gills and suddenly something is flushed through. Very very odd water and something else. He jerks his head back with a sputter, tightening his grip. Quentin yelps, wriggling. 

But then Otto notes that the pain is gone. He blinks, hand gently touching his gills. There is a bit of scaring, but not a open wound. He stares at the mer in shock. The water around the two of the is clear, light filtering down to the bottom. The water lacks the normal salt and it slowly causes his gills to feel very odd. But the injury is gone. He has an easier time of seeing Quentin who is still wincing.

“Apologies. You startled me.”

Otto loosens his grip as he speaks while Quentin stares at him with wide eyes. 

“... Oh, okay.”

The response is very quiet. Quentins’s eyes flick upwards at the light and his eyes narrow a little in the brightness, pupils constricting. The wings shift again. Otto releases them completely as a small gesture of good will. The wings flare out a little and then they tuck behind Quentin’s back. The mer relaxes slowly. Otto is about to ask another question when a sudden sharp pain in his back. He rears his head back and thrashes knocking out some odd small projectile. Quentin wriggles free but stays nearby. Otto feels his body getting heavy. Quentin gives a sympathetic look.

“Looks like you got tranq-ed. You are going to fall asleep and probably going wake up in a holding tank. It’s… It’s going to be okay. Not even a headache!”

The last bit is forced cheerfulness as Quentin hovers nearby. Otto’s eyes slip closed, and his world grows dark.

[sealpup9]

Apparently part of this has to do with not just executive dysfunction, but something called Aphantasia, or the inability to visualize in your mind. So like, seeing black when you try to think about stuff.

Heres a fantastic thread about it.

The example they give is how when someone goes to make a PBJ sandwich, they know what thd sandwich looks like, they can visualize it, and then work backwards.

Someone with aphantasia can't visualize what "done" looks like when it comes to a task.

Another example they gave is how their child struggles to get ready for school in the morning because he can't visualize what "ready" is. To help, they printed a picture of him ready for school so he could visualize it, and it helped immensely.

When it comes to this, you could ask the question "How can someone be expected to prepare when they don't know what a finished product will look like?" Well, exactly.

If you can't visualize what a project looks like when it's done and have no examples, you just have a table full of tools and materials and no end goal!

It also explains certain things from a social aspect! If you can't visualize something like a birthday party, that might make you anxious because what will the party be like/feel like/where will it be?

The following thoughts are just my experience, but:

I wonder if this is part of why habit making is so difficult. You can't visualize it. You're blind to it. But I think this is also why habit forming is SO IMPORTANT. Going to the same location over and over again makes it easier for you to remember what things were like. So it's no longer "visualizing the future" and instead it's "remembering how things were." I feel like I try to rely on my past experiences to figure out the future more than i try to visualize the future itself based on just yknow. Being told something exists or being given a box of supplies and told to craft something.

Maybe this is why i love jigsaw puzzles so much. I don't have to visualize it, the image im making is right there, and i take comfort in completing it at my own pace.

Ofc, relying on past memories poses a whole nother issue with time-blindness- you might remember a location differently and it might freak you out. (Or suddenly something about an app you go on daily Changes™ and you have a panic about it).

I think the reason we're visual learners is because we are physically incapable of consciously visualizing outcomes. Whether its a situation or physical object or unit of measurement.

Another side note: I think this is why I took to art so well. For me, its more about process than the end-goal. But being in art classes taught me to do thumbnail sketches and force myself to make my own image to work off of and that is so useful.

Some tips for folks who are in my boat, aphantasia and ADHD and Exec. Dysfunction:

-don't just make a list, put it somewhere it will bother you or you will forget. Change the location slightly of the list if you need to, so it looks out of place when you walk in a room and you're drawn to it. Also, if it helps, make a list of your things to do tomorrow and leave it somewhere you will find it in the morning! (Like on top of your laptop, on the fridge, etc.) Maybe draw a picture if you want. Something to make it different and stand out and not just fade into the Everything Else™ like those unwashed hand-wash only mugs that are sitting in your sink right now.

-Try to force yourself to make habits. Even if it starts with 'when i remember'. You will feel good about it, honestly. And then when things like brushing teeth become habits you can put energy into other things!! Incentivize it! Give yourself a little treat if you do it!! But only if you do it!! You can do it!!

-Take pictures!! I mean it. Take pictures of the sky, of documents you need to remember of phone numbers of drawings of animals of anything. Save that art you love on tumblr, bookmark those fanfics. Just save things. Its helped me immensely. The other day I realized I didn't have a current photo of my ID so instead of stressing I just went and took it immediately and now i just have it for if i need it. I love the photos app on my phone.

-Set alarms. I know. I KNOW im the kind of person who will set alarms and then ignore them. Change the ringtone often if you have to!! Hold yourself accountable for the 1:50am alarm that says 'please for the love of god go to bed' because when you turn it off suddenly it will be 4am and you'll be on tumblr typing up a really long response on a topic you're extremely passionate about

-Find and use The Passion!!!! If you're like me and you get hyperfixated on things? Use that as a means to get things done! Imagine your blorbo cooking or doing dishes! Put music on while you do chores!!!! Its like that one post, Naruto Believes In You!

-I'm so serious about this one and its so important im making it into its own category: Make a nightly routine. You can fall into the rhythm of just doing your nightly routine and it will be mindless. For example my routine is Turn off Computer, Unplug Computer, Put Headphones down, turn off mouse, turn off large lamp, take medication, turn off small lamp, go to bathroom, wash hands, brush teeth, check on front door locks, come to bed, take melatonin. And you can add one or two things in between if you need, like im using a humidifier in my bedroom so i make sure its filled up when I come into the bedroom after brushing my teeth! Be flexible with it but not too flexible. Like if you take your meds after using the bathroom its totally ok you still got it done and Im proud of you.

-This one is something I seriously need to do more but: wake up early every so often. Just to reset your messed up sleep schedule. Just. Push yourself up, make some waffles or pancakes or something. Make tea for your significant other. (Make it about love, man.)

If you're someone who lives with/supports someone who struggles with this kindof thing, maybe talk to them about if it's difficult to visualize the end goal. I was so surprised to see someone put this into words that i was solid crying for a bit while typing this.

At the end of the day, reading into all of this has made me feel a lot less dumb! I hope this helps some people like it did me. :)

A lot of us with ADHD are familiar with the concept of time blindness, but for anyone who isn't: it's a neurological inability to have a consistent sense of the passage of time. If you put me in an empty room, gave me a button and told me to press it when I think it's been 15 minutes, I might press it after..... idk, anywhere between 3 minutes and 2 hours? And if we repeated it the next day the result would probably be wildly different!

But something I've only seen mentioned in one (1) Reddit post, which took some extensive digging to find, is the same effect extending to ALL things measured in numbers. Distance, weight, length, height, amount, space, volume, percentage... For me, small numbers are a bit easier, I could approximate a centimetre probably, but a metre would be much harder and 10 or 100 would likely miss the mark by a lot. Also, anything that can't be easily measured with a ruler or a measuring tape (like weight or volume) is even harder since I don't encounter reference points (like a 1kg hand weight) for those as frequently as I see visual representations of specific lengths.

It's not dyscalculia or anything like that, I'm decent at math (and the OP of the Reddit post was a math major) and I have no other difficulties with numbers, it's just a disconnect in translating real life experiences like sensory input into numbers (and possibly also inconsistent processing of sensory input? Like how the same sound volume is okay one day but hurts my ears the next?), which I think is basically the same thing as what happens with time blindness. For now I've been calling it "measurement blindness" since I've never seen a name for it anywhere, but maybe "quantity blindness" could also work?

I've talked to other people with time blindness to see if they experience this too, but so far none of them have known what I'm talking about. I'd really like to know how many of us are out there and if anyone knows literally anything actually scientific about this very inconvenient phenomenon!

Tl;dr: bc I am wordy:

It's like time blindness but for all things measured in numbers

Not dyscalculia or caused by it

Pretty much never seen it talked about anywhere

Please tell me if it sounds familiar and/or you know something about it, thank

[soanyfuckingways]

when i wake up, i wonder if this life is worth getting out of bed for.

do i brush my teeth and hair, unplug my phone, get ready for the day ahead out of necessity?

do i sleep in until the evening, stay in a state of bad dreams and fantasies until i cannot close my eyes any longer?

i get up take my medicine with a drink of water from the sink.

No cup, I put my head under the faucet.

I brush my hair, the feeling of the hairbrush against my head wakes me up enough to feel like a person.

I get dressed, finding the cleanest clothes I can. Sometimes I search through the dirty laundry for those pants I really want.

Finally, I’m ready to brush my teeth.

The teeth I have dreams about falling out in my sleep.

I grind them, and wake up the next day wondering if I have cavities in all of them.

When I walk, I try not to let them hit together because it hurts.

All day I think about the fact that I cannot clench my jaw.

I wonder if I can stop before it starts.

If the medicine isn’t working and that’s where my problem lies.

I take a drink of the alcohol I stole and wonder what I could do differently.

Does the medicine still work if I’m going to drink every night.

Does the medicine work at all if i never try it by itself?

I ask the doctor for a higher dose of antidepressants.

He says he can’t raise them at the same time as the other meds.

I wonder if he knows I was too scared to ever take the benzos.

I wonder if he thinks I really need them.

I’m out of bed, i get a cup of water and get into my car.

I find a can of alcohol, a small percentage but alcohol nonetheless.

i pour it into my extra cup, looking to see if anyone can spot what im doing.

They never do, I hope they don’t ever.

I drive to work, I see the kids I spend all day with.

I can’t imagine being sober at work and I am sad about it.

I can’t imagine being at work without something else to make it bearable.

Everyone comes in smelling like weed,

I wonder how much worse it is to be an alcoholic.

I have spent my time being both, and wonder where is the line on either.

[zmxchs]

I hope this is ok to ask for! Basically it's your first time with Carlisle! (Can be human or new vampire I don't mind!) It is your first time with everything even kissing, hickeys, org*sm etc. You are super nervous and Carlisle is the consent king. Hes super gentle and walks you through everything. Can add things like pinning against the wall 😉

First Time

Pairing: SoftDom!Carlisle x Inexperience!Reader

Warnings: virgin reader, soft sex fingering, praising, etc

Request: Yes. ^^Above in ask^^ @lillybearblog

Note**Has been re-written bc there has been claims that i copied another blog even though i did not**

You and Carlisle have been seeing each other for a little while now, you were inexperienced in everything when it came to a intimate relationship.

Yes, you have had one or two relationships now and then but none that got that far.

You were layed on Carlisle chest just basking in the quietness of the house. All of Carlisle's adopted children were out doing their own things, which doesnt happen often.

"Carlisle" you say breaking the silence. He hums in response.

"I think I am ready." You say looking up to him. He looks at you eye brow raised.

"Are you sure doll?" he asked slightly concerned, yet held a wanting for it as well. He couldn't deny that he thinks about intimate moments with you quite often. He always wants to ravish you, but he always stops himself, never wanted to make you feel uncomfrotable.

You sit up, sliding onto his lap, leading Carlisle to have to stiffle a groan. You were always able to turn him on, without even meaning it. With a slightly confident face nodding you head "Yes I'm sure."

Your gaze switches between his pretty brown eyes and his plush pink lips, the sudden need to taste again was surprising more intense in the situation. Carlisle, who always seems to know anything thats going on your mind, tilts your head up before and closes the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss.

You tasted like grapefruit and white wine. He tasted like blood and lemon. To taste that when it came to you two tasted amazing.

You feel like your head is spinning, your whole body stiffening from above, of course this kiss was different than the others you shared. All of a sudden your mind catches up with you and the thought of inexperience flooding your mind and so you quickly pull away from his soft touch, even though it's the last thing you wanted too do.

Kissing him was always something you loved but this time it also made you nervous

Carlisle seems concerned, looking up at you with his eyebrows slightly curved, questioning if your intents have changed, just by reading your actions. Of course if they had changed he would not contine, but would have to go take a cold shower.

"Im nervous Carl." You whimber out

"Shh, darling. It's okay.I promise. Im here to help you through everything" he says again running his thumb over your cheek until the fear in your slowly goes away.

You nod your head telling him he can contuine.

He flips you over gently so he is hovering over you. He tilts you head again for better access before he slowly closes the gap between your lips, kissing you just as gently as before, waiting for you to catch up on his movements.

You rest your on the bed not knowing were to put them while he snakes an arm around your waist to pull you closer, making you melt in his arms.

You soon realize how to move your lips against his to avoid clashing teeth and the kiss grow a bit hungrier. You find yourseld pressing yourself against his frame more prominently, begging for more stimulation.

He breaks the kiss and then he buries his face in the crook of your neck, leading kisses down your burning skin probaly leaving brusies. The new sensation making you body shiver and smalls moans leaving your mouth.

"Look at you, darling. So eager for my touch," he murmurs, before he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting you gently, making you whine out his name his fangs in you making the pleasure so much more intense, which only turns him more.

He keeps peppering your skin with kisses and nibbles, turning you into a puddle in his arms, your head tilted back to allow him more access as your fingers tug on his dark hair, spurring him on.

You feel the heavy warmth of arousal pool in your panties, filling your mind with the same want that's been tormenting you for a while, the need to let him have your way with you.

"Baby, please," you whimper arching your back into him, making him let out a soft grunt.

You can feel his erection rub against your thigh, a sign that he wants you, needs you, just as much as you need him.

"What do you want, baby?" He murmurs against the shell of your ear before sucking a soft mark right underneath it, forcing you to hold back a whine.

"Y-you. I want you, Carl," you let out, cupping both of his cheeks to bring his lips to yours, the taste of him on your tongue getting way too addictive.

He grunts against you, your actions surprising him, but he soon catches up with you, his hand running to the back of your thigh so he can hike it up, wrapping it around his waist, allowing him access to your dripping core. He immediately starts rocking his hips against yours, making you break the kiss with a moan as your head falls against his shoulder.

"Does it feel good, darling?" He asks and all you're able to do is nod, the delicious friction of his clothed cock against your sensitive clit turning you into a hot mess.

"Schatz please" you whine softly, grasping on his shoulders, bunching up his white shirt in your hands as if that could save you.

"Please what darling" he groans out

"M-more," you whisper, knowing that even though this feels amazing, it's not enough to make you cum.

He dreamed so much of having you like this, his to ruin, his to break and now he has you and it's better than he ever anticipated. He didn't know it would be so easy to get you so cock-drunk even before the real thing happened but here he is, with you on the palm of his hand, begging him for more. And that's exactly what he's about to give you.

"What exactly do you want, darling?" He asks, pulling your head from his shoulder gently to force you to look at him.

Your pupils are blown out, your lower lip puffy from how hard you've been biting on it, your body fluttering with every roll of his cock against your tender pussy, the sight alone making him groan out your name, his cock twitching in his pants.

"I- I want- f-fingers," you sigh out in defeat, sinking your nails into his back as you buckle your hips into his.

"Anything for you, my good girl," he murmurs, planting a kiss to your temple before he lets your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder again.

You whine at the small praise, delighted to be called his, which makes Carlisle smile softly as he sucks another mark to your exposed shoulder.

He slowly runs his fingers over your side and down over your tummy to the hem of your cute pink panties, tugging on the waistband and letting it hit your skin, making you whimper.

You're so fucking wet that he fails to suppress the groan that leaves him as he runs his digits over your slippery folds, making your breath hitch in your throat, your lower belly clenching.

"Baby, please," you whine and he tuts at you, pressing a kiss to the mark he left on your shoulder.

"Don't worry, baby," he mumbles, sliding his fingers between your folds, making you gasp.

He spreads your slick all the way to your puffy clit, pressing two fingers against it and he starts drawing lazy circles that make your eyes roll back into your skull as a whimper of his name leaves your lips. You struggle to to keep your legs spread wide on the bed, you were already sinking into the bed.

"You like that, baby?" He asks, picking up a bit quicker pace that turns your body into mush.

You moan, nodding your head softly as you claw on his shoulders, the knot in your abdomen slowly tightening as a promise of an orgasm that sends shivers of excitement through your entire body.

"I- I- Carl," you whine, slowly rolling your hips against him to chase the building pleasure, making him chuckle.

His sweet girl is all cock drunk on already

"What, darling? Are you gonna cum?" He asks, quickening his movements, making your head fall back, your lips parting in bliss as you still cling to him for dear life.

"In-inside. I wanna- wanna feel y-you," you manage to put together, your voice breathy and high as your body trembles with pleasure.

He slides his fingers from your swollen clit to your wet hole, not hesitating a second before he pushes one finger inside. He curls it against your warm walls, while he keeps rolling your clit underneath his thumb. His fingers are so much thicker than yours, making you already feel full as your pussy clenches on him.

"Fuck," He breaths out, panting at how much he's trying to stop himself from rubbing his cock against your thigh but you're so freaking soft and warm and tight, making him painfully hard.

Arching your back as he strokes especially good spot inside of you, making you moan. He groans, attaching his lips to the crook of your neck to add more marks to those that already paint your skin. You whimper, thrusting your hips against his hand, making him grunt.

He slips another finger inside of you, stretching you out, making you whine, your pussy griping him, eliciting a curse from his lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he mumbles as he starts thrusting his digits in and out of you, making your thighs tremble, your toes curling as the pleasure in your lower belly growing, ready to burst.

“I- I’m close, schatz” you whisper, arching your back into him as he keeps abusing that sweet spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.

“Cum for me, darling” He asks, his heavy hot breath dancing over your collarbone and you nod with a hum, sinking your fingers into his soft hair.

All it takes are a few more strokes and you’re coming on his fingers, your pussy clamping down on him as you ride out your high, head leaned back and lips parted as you chant his name. He watches you with adoration.

He only stops once you whimper in over-sensitivity, pushing his hand away softly and so he takes his fingers out of you before bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, all while keeping an eye contact with you, your eyes widening at his actions.

“So sweet, baby,” he hums in appreciation, giving you a bright smile before leaning closer to kiss you softly.

You’re still on cloud nine. You reciprocate the kiss gently, still clinging to him for support even as he leads himself out of you sore and used cunt.

[flatmatttresss]

a smile plastered on your face as you say at the table with doctor theo, grinning absently over a cup of coffee. the sun beamed brightly through the window; a rarity around here, you quickly noted, for things to feel so at peace. nina shuffled behind you at the sink, watering her plants dutifully as she always does.

she suddenly stops what she's doing, the water being shut up with a quick slam, and suddenly nina is out the door with doctor theo trailing her quickly. you stand quickly, the table shifting forward with your quick change.

the scene outside the clinic's front door is... red. that's the only word that comes to mind. it's red, sticky, and frightening. worick is holding into nicolas's shoulder tightly, a sad attempt at keeping him upright. worick seems dizzy, his one good eye is closed tightly and he's clearly gritting his teeth.

doctor theo breaks the tense silence, grabbing worick beside his daughter, pulling the large man to his feet so nicolas could be attended to, "he must be crashing from an overdose."

you snap into action, sitting nicolas up against the wall of the clinic until theo gets back from putting worick in a bed, "what happened?" you quietly imply, brushing your thumb over his brow to stop the flow of some blood.

'job went bad,' he signs, brows furrowing, he's gritting his teeth too.

"jesus christ nic..." you sigh softly, slinging his arm over your shoulder and standing. blood streaks onto your side from his stained clothes, and you start to worry how doctor theo is going to be able to pull nic through on this one.

nicolas grunts the entire way to his bed. nina has already prepped herself with her apron and gloves, following her dads orders diligently. the two get worick and nic patched up quickly and leave to clean themselves thoroughly.

you clean up the dried blood on worick carefully, pulling the sheet up over him so he can rest. moving on to nicolas, who is lying with his eyes closed and chest somewhat heaving. you dip a sponge into a bucket of soapy water and start to gently scrub at the dried blood on his side. there's stitches now, thank god.

"you do a lot," nicolas brokenly mumbles, eyes still closed tightly in pain and small grunts coming from his chest, "thanks." he doesn't look you in the eye when he says that.

"it's my job. as the oldest ya know?" you smile softly and continue to scrub, "im not into it the way nina is, but i try to help dad where i can," you sigh and squeeze the sponge out into the bucket, "i look out for both of them. kinda like you look out for worick."

"that's different," he says it tiredly like he's ready for the conversation to be over. maybe it's because it hurts your feelings, or maybe you understood that it WAS different, but you kept your mouth shut, "maybe it is."

he opens one eye, the one not caked in blood, and grabs your wrist where you're cleaning his side, and signs slowly, 'different.'

you nod softly. it never dawned on you unstick now that you don't really understand the entire natures of his relationship with worick. it just seemed from the outside that nic was some sort of bodyguard, or maybe a very concerned friend. either way, you never asked. it seemed like something you weren't allowed to pry about. years of helping your dad treat worick and nic's wounds had taught you that silence was sometimes the key. the two of them were so secretive as is, so it didn't seem to be your place to ask questions. nic always seemed more stand off-ish than worick, though, with his quiet nature and curious eyes following every movement you made.

you sighed and gave up getting all the blow off of his side, moving to his eye with a tiny dish rag, "this ... this is probably gonna burn. it's caked in your eyebrow, so i gotta use some pressure," you tilted your head down so he could read your lips, "okay?"

he nodded quietly and closed his eyes tightly, grunting when you grazed the deep cut shiver his eyebrow, "sorry... i told you it would hurt,"

'it's fine,' he signed.

"... sorry i... compared myself to you."

'im not someone you want to be compared to,' he signed, turning a bit to look out the window.

"well... i could pick worse people to compare myself to," you shrug, gripping his chin gently to turn him back so he could see what you were saying, "let me finish cleaning you."

you moved closer to him. the rag in your hand had turned brown and red in places and it smelled like dirt. you cast it aside and grabbed ointment, squirting some onto his brow scar and applying it generously.

nicolas gripped your wrist gently with one hand, pulling it away from his face and looking up at your gently. he sat that way for a second, searching your expression for something, before he turned your hand and kissed the back of it.

your cheeks warmed gently and you sat there for a moment, wrist hovering in the air, "oh... thank you nic," you smiled brightly at him, noting the tint on his cheeks but his expression stayed the same. he seemed very sure of what he'd done, and you made peace with that.

"okay, you're all clean now. feel any better?" he shook his head and huffed in pain, trying to say 'no. im still in pain' without signing. you grinned softly and breathed out a small chuckle, "aside from that." he nodded then, sighing sleepily and turning into his good side.

you smiled gently and grabbed his hand before he'd fully settled into his side, kissing the back of it very gently, and leaving quickly before you thought what you'd done through.

[peakyblindersxx]

come home with me - finn shelby x reader

a/n: you have @michaelgreys to thank for this one (& the gif!!! check her out she's amazing). s5 finn cause god damn!!1 i honestly dont have much to say about this one other than it's definitely self indulgent and not even god can help me at this point. i'm working on p4 to whiskey buisness rn as well as some requests, thank you for all the sweet comments!!

love, abi xxx

my masterlist

prompt: finn hates you so much he might want to fuck you.

warnings: nsfw!! smut, pretty fluffy cause he's baby 🥺

Working for the Shelby Company wasn’t difficult, except for one thing: Finn Shelby. You were one of the many secretaries, in charge of conveying messages, filing papers, and many other important things, such as making sure the glass decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart in Tommy’s office was never empty. It wasn’t a very taxing job, but Finn went out of his way to get under your skin in every way he could. Maybe it was the fact that you wouldn’t back down, having a quick retort to anything close to disrespectful that he said to you. The other brothers never said a thing to intervene, Arthur even telling you he was glad you had a backbone.

“Finn’s a cocky thing, eh? Too cocky for his own good. A girl like you’ll put ‘im in his place,” he had slurred, while you collected the letters he’d asked you to mail.

“Dunno, Mr. Shelby,” you’d mused. “Seems like he’s got some sort of problem with me.”

“Don’t even bother with that, he’s just an arrogant fuck. Probably got some sort of crush on you an’ is too shy to do shit about it. You know, first time he fucked a whore, he said sorry,” Arthur grunted. You’d chalked up his admissions to the half empty bottle of whiskey that he was clutching and the light dusting of snow on his right nostril. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if the looks Finn shot your way, though seemingly out of irritation, meant something more. You couldn’t lie, you’d thought about what it’d be like to feel the youngest Shelby brother’s bow-shaped lips on your neck, his hands on your waist. It couldn’t be true, you resolved; Arthur was just wasted and you were delusional.

Monday came, and Tommy had asked you to work in the betting shop for the next few weeks. “Make sure Finn’s not fucking up,” he had grunted, taking a long drag of his cigarette, clear blue eyes barely leaving the stacks of paper that littered his massive desk. Of course you’d agreed, but you were nervous. Something about it made your heart beat faster in your chest. You took a shot of whiskey before you left, hoping the dark liquor would help calm your nerves. Isaiah insisted on accompanying you, telling you there were too many people that didn’t like them around there and to make sure someone was always with you for the next few weeks. You were grateful for his presence, the jokes he cracked easing your mind as the two of you walked briskly along the cobblestone streets. It didn’t take long to get there, Isaiah holding the door open for you as the warm air inside the betting office washed over you. Finn turned to see who it was, a scowl tugging at the edges of his mouth once he saw you.

“Why the fuck is she here,” he drawled, sitting at his desk with his feet up, a half-finished cigarette dangling from his fingertips. As much as you hated to admit it, he looked fucking good, hair neatly combed back, smelling of expensive cologne in a pressed navy blue suit. He was tall, legs stretching across the desk as he sent a glare in your direction, you rolling your eyes in response.

“Tommy said,” Isaiah interjected, sensing the tension in the air. “He said you said you needed more help, or somethin’.”

“Fuckin’ christ,” Finn mumbled, taking a drag from his cigarette before putting it out on the crystal ashtray that sat on his desk, standing to grab a stack of books from one of the shelves behind him.

“Jesus, it’s like I’m the fucking plauge or something,” you retorted, Isaiah stifling his chuckle as he looked anywhere but at the two of you. Finn ignored you, instead setting the pile of books on his desk.

“Come look at this, before I change my mind,” he said, instead. You obliged, walking behind his desk to see what he was gesturing to as Isaiah excused himself, something about “gettin’ fucking plastered, mate!” Finn was easily a head taller than you, so he practically towered over you, engulfing you in a cloud of his intoxicating cologne as you stood so close to him that you could practically feel the heat emanating from his body.

“So, these are the bets, and those are the outcomes,” he explained, arm brushing against your body slightly as he pointed to the different columns written out in the log. To your chagrin, your skin prickled in response, your body unable to control itself. Yet, you pushed it down, not wanting to give Finn the satisfaction of knowing that you wanted him. God knows he’d hold it against you forever. What he was explaining was simple enough, and you were able to grasp it fairly quickly. He was all business, handing you the logs he needed you to double check, as you sank into the desk adjacent to his, pouring over the books and coming to him to confirm small corrections.

However, after a couple of drinks of whiskey (some of which you admittedly consumed), Finn started talking. Small things, like how irritating Tommy was or how much they’d made off a certain horse. He’d never opened up to you like this; it was always a snide remark that usually set off an argument, since the two of you were fairly hot-headed. This time, it was different. Finn was still looking at you, but with slightly rosy cheeks and a smile threatening to spread across his face every time you made a witty remark. This time, you liked the way he was looking at you.

***

Two thirds of a bottle later, you were both on the floor in front of the fire, laughing at something Finn had said. Admittedly, he had said it just to see you laugh. He liked when you laughed, he realized. It was much better than the irritated look on your face that he usually saw. In all honesty, it was probably his fault, he thought to himself. Maybe it was the whiskey talking, but he really wanted to see you smile for the rest of his life. You sat next to him, shoulders brushing as the two of you talked, your jacket long abandoned, revealing the flimsy straps of the black lace dress. You looked so fucking pretty, he couldn’t help himself.

“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that, right? Always wondered why you hung ‘round us lot, bunch of mean fuckers.” The words fell out of his mouth, hovering in the air between the two of you. You stared at him, slightly taken aback, but the liquor was doing the talking for both of you, it seemed.

“Look who’s fucking talking. Half the girls in Brum would gladly fuck you, even just for a night.”

Finn paused, lighting a cigarette and offering you a drag.“What about you?”

You accepted, taking a puff before passing it back. “What about me?”

He cracked a grin. “Would you fuck me?”

His bluntness took you aback, but you were too far gone to think properly. “Maybe,” you admitted, a coy smile playing at your lips. Finn’s eyes darkened, closing the distance between the two of you until his body was almost touching yours, the tension between you crackling like the fire just a few feet away.

“What about now?” he muttered, lips brushing ever so slightly against your neck, causing you to shiver. He noticed, his hands finding the curve of your hips, searing through your dress. You couldn’t help but tilt your neck back slightly, a gasp leaving your lips as Finn pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your skin.

“Finn,” you moaned quietly, the smile on his lips growing wider as his hands fiddled with the hem of your dress, fingertips sliding underneath to grip lightly at the soft skin of your thighs. “Fuckin’ do something already, christ.”

Finn grinned. “Always got a fuckin’ mouth on you, eh? You’re lucky I find that attractive,” he teased. You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, his fingers found your silk panties, pushing them to the side to rub lightly against your clit, causing you to jolt in pleasure. You were already wet, to Finn’s satisfaction, and he had no trouble pushing a finger inside of you. The moans that were leaving your mouth were sinful, and he savored each one, watching the way you squirmed when he added another, curling them inside of you.

“Look so goddamn pretty, stuffed full of my fingers,” he crooned, sending your eyes rolling back in your head, eyelashes fluttering.

“Finn, please,” you whined, his nimble fingers deftly unzipping your dress and sliding it off, leaving you in your black silk bra and panties. Finn paused, taking a second to drink you in before pressing his lips to yours. They were softer than you could have imagined, hands gripping at your waist as he tugged at your bottom lip for access. You let him in, melting at his touch like butter.

“Want you inside me,” you mumbled against his lips, causing his muscles to stiffen as he sprang into action, pulling you on top of him, lining his already hard cock up with you. He was big, and if you weren’t already so ready for him, you might have been a little nervous. He slowly pushed inside of you, helping you sink down on top of him with one hand as he swore under his breath, using his other hand to unhook your bra, throwing it to the side and exposing your breasts to the cool air, nipples hardening at his touch.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Finn growled, unable to resist from taking one of them into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth. The sound you made in response was pathetic, but fuck if it wasn’t fueling his appetite for you. He couldn’t help but push up into you, a tight grip on your hipbones, holding you up as he rammed into you, cock pressing up against your g-spot, sending your vision spinning.

“Fuck, Finn, m’gonna cum,” you cried, eyes sqeezed shut, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of pleasure he was giving you. Finn grunted, somehow increasing his pace, pressing kisses to wherever he could.

“Go ahead darlin’, want you to cum all over my cock,” he cajoled, the words sending waves of pleasure through you. You couldn’t help but follow his orders, colors flickering across your eyesight. The image of you cumming just for him sent Finn over the edge, groaning your name as he finished inside of you, dripping down the inside of your thighs. You looked so fucking angelic in the firelight, he had the sudden urge to take care of you.

“Y’alright?” He asked, reaching for a rag to clean you up. You nodded, smiling softly down at him as he couldn’t help but press a kiss to your hipbone. He looked up at you, eyes full of adoration.

“Come home with me?” Finn murmured, hands fidgeting.

“Yeah,” you replied, a glow tinging your cheeks as you looked at him the same. “Let’s go home.”

[mikhailoisbaby]

————

I’ve had this fic sitting in my Google docs for a while and I finally had the confidence to post it after re reading for the hundredth time.

Im not a writer by any means but doing weekly galladrabbles has made me what to write more as well as having the love to writing I’ve had since I was a small child

also want to say I have dyslexia and I was diagnosed since I was primary school so I know this might be a load of shit lmfao but I wanted to post along with the art I have created for it.

So enjoy it , tell me bits that don’t make sense or where I could improve because I want to rediscover my love of writing

————

Read on Ao3 here or below ⬇️

It was 7 o’clock in the evening, dinner was just eaten and the bedtime routine was set in play. The messy pots were stacked high in the sink ready for Mickey to load the dishwasher while Ian had the task of putting their one-year-old to sleep.

He can hear the soft mummers of his husband's voice through the baby monitor on the kitchen counter, he's reading ‘goodnight moon’ their daughter's favourite book currently, and the crackles of the baby monitor once again peak when he can hear the light laughter at Ian's silly voices for different parts of the book; The sweet moment of father and daughter reading distracted Mickey from loading the dishwasher at times.

“Book book,” Delilah in soured baby speak knowing that she just conned her father to read another book, this will go on for while Ian will finish a book only for the little ginger to ask for another and her father falls fatal to her bright blue eyes.

Mickey continues with the job of the dishes until all is put away neat like there was never a hurricane of a one-year-old and 8-year-old eating messy spaghetti bolognese in their kitchen/dining room.

As soon as Mickey is done cleaning, a strategic plan so the kid isn’t forced to help clean, the little 8-year-old pops up around the corner. He ruffles her ginger locks as he convinces her father that she is allowed to stay up to watch more tv and Mickey agrees it’s a weekend after all.

He tells her to go get her pj's on and brush her teeth as Mickey moves to lightly tidy the living room where monster trucks are scattered over the multiple surfaces as well as nerf bullets although the toy guns were confiscated, not from the children but Mickey, Ian apparently doesn’t find it funny to be constantly shot by his husband.

Once the house it’s put back together only to be destroyed tomorrow, not that he minds he like the constantly playing and having fun the kids have, something he didn’t much in childhood, he sits down next to his oldest daughter who is now dressed in Spider-Man PJs and breath smelling like mint.

“ Where's dad?” Franny asks.

After Debbie left for Texas with her convict girlfriend leaving her daughter behind for the rest of the family to take care of, reminiscent of Monica leaving her children for everyone else to deal with, Ian and Mickey took on the role of parents of Franny. Mickey jokes that it’s their test kid and if Franny fucked up so they can blame Debbie but they are doing a good job parenting Franny so far, good grades, multiply friends, happy and healthy so yeah they pat themselves on the back now and then with how well Franny growing up as well she rarely asks about her mother too concerned about her baby sister for the past year.

They never expected Franny to call Ian and Mickey's dad but it just happened once, Franny was legally adopted and the new baby arrived Ian and Mickey constantly called themselves dada and papa especially when Delilah started talking she also picked up the habit of calling Ian dad and Mickey papa.

Franny was not confused she knew they aren’t biological her fathers and who her mother is but they took on the role of parents and after many conversations to make sure that she did understand that if she just wanted to call them uncle Ian and Mickey it would be fine but dad and papa suck for her and that how it’s been for the last year.

Mickey snapped out of thought when Franny was pulling on his sleeve “where's dad?” She asks again in an exasperated tone

“ upstairs putting baby meat to sleep” the nickname makes Franny giggle she snuggles further into Mickey's side placing a corner of her faded baby blanket on his knee and wraps the rest around her lap as they watch some kid's animation tv show where the 3 different types of bear apparently they are brother it confused Mickey at first but Franny likes it so that all that matters.

He is unaware of how much time passes and still watching ‘We bare bear’ he learnt the show's name at least so Franny will be proud and he thinks Ice bear is the best, he would ask Franny who her favourite is but she passed out slumping under Mickey's armpit. He pulls out his phone to check the baby monitor app because Ian still isn't down only to find both baby and father passed out in the rocking chair with a clear pile of books next to them.

Mickey can’t help but chuckle. He turns off the tv and picks up the passed-out Franny who clings to him and her beloved blanket like a koala bear when carried upstairs but never opens her eyes not even when Mickey places her in bed and leaves a small Kiss on her forehead with a “good night sleepy face ” and small return of “night papa”. He clicked on the night light that sits in the corner of her dinosaur-themed room, leaving the door open in a crack in case she gets a nightmare or needs water during the night as he exists.

Mickey makes his way back down the stairs Turning off all lights and checking the door and windows are all closed as he wanders back to the stairs of the 3-bed house ready to put the baby in the crib and get his husband to bed. He passes all the picture frames lining the wall of the staircase. Most of them are Franny and Delilah over the past year but there are old ones like wedding photos of Ian and Mickey being sickly in love, some from Tami and lip engagement party just before Delilah was born, the most recent put up was one from Liam's last birthday party. They are some other random ones that Mickey can’t quite remember where they were taken but he knows Ian would be able to say.

Once his mind is cleared of memory lane he goes into Delilah's room, Ian’s dad snores coving over the soft baby snores he would tease Ian if the moment wasn’t so sweet so he snaps a quick photo of the sleeping duo before he picks up Deli ( a nickname that came from Mickey always calling her baby meat and a somewhat shortened version of Delilah) placing in her crib; just like Franny, Deli didn’t open her eyes when Mickey gives her a good night kiss. He moves over to his husband and gently shakes him and tells him to get his ass to bed.

Once both are settled in bed Mickey is dressed in Ian's old t-shirt that has faded and lost colour with a couple of small holes dotted throughout and a pair if loses fitting boxers, Ian is dressed in a white vest probably Mickey judging by the number of stains and (just like Mickey) in loose-fitting boxer do they both share the final good nights and small but loving pecks on the lips. Ian snuggles into the back of Mickey being the big spoon he always is with his arm wrapped around Mickey's waist protectively.

Mickey hears Ian's light snoring, not as bad as they were in Delilah's room; he peeks at the baby monitor one last time. It’s sitting on Mickey's nightstand next to a wedding photo and a book he has been currently reading. He can see Deli's face, peaceful and relaxed. The knowledge that his family is safe and asleep helps him drift off into slumber.

[bokuroskitten]

your piece about oral fixation was just 🤤 so now im super curious as to what kinda of gags you think the haikyuu captains + iwa would use on their partners.

oh anon, truly I'm grateful for this one. Because as a rope bunny, I think about it constantly. I didn't do every single haikyuu captain, just ones I feel I know the best. Enjoy the filth. ❦

ℌℭ❦

〈what kind of gags would the haikyuu captains (Bokuto, Terushima, Ushijima, Oikawa, Daichi, Kuroo, Kita) + Iwa enjoy using on their partner.

⋆genre: 18+ NSFW (Minors DNI)

⋆warnings: BDSM themes (use of bondage and gags), dom/sub dynamics (daddy & master title used), oral (female receiving), spit, degradation & dumbification

Bokuto couldn’t be bothered with gags. He likes to hear you falling apart on his cock, the whimpers, the cries, the begging. It’s all music to Bokuto’s ears. Although if you do want to be gagged Bokuto just uses his thick fingers down your throat or slaps his palm across your lips. Both methods effectively render you silent and he still gets the joy of feeling your moans vibrating along his skin.

“You’re so fucking loud, Birdy. The whole neighbourhood is gonna know you’re a desperate little cock whore. Isn’t that right baby Bird?” Bokuto’s voice was nothing but a growl up against your ear, his heavy balls still slapping ruthlessly against your ass as he plunged himself faster into your tight cunt. He went in at the perfect angel this time, his cock head pressing to that sweet spot that would have you screaming. Before the sound could slip out Bokuto pushed three fingers into your mouth, grinning as he watched drool bubble between his knuckles, your cries getting muffled into his skin.

“Yeaaa, suck away baby and take what’s given to you.”

⋆⋆⋆

Terushima is a horny one, typically just wants to get the job done quickly and easily, so he likes to use what’s around. This typically means he’s using his tie. He usually wears one to his job, or sometimes finds himself keeping a spare in his back pocket when you’re being extra annoying. He always ties a knot in the middle first, pressing it between your teeth before knotting the material behind your head. It’s effective enough to keep you muffled but simple enough that he can still see your lips tremble, watch drool darken the fabric and dribble down your chin.

“Careful princess, you want the boys to know I’m stuffing you full of cock?” He spoke through a wicked grin, his lips pressed to your pulse as his hands held your hips in a death grip. The subtle slap of your ass into his pelvis kept him on beat, along with the muffled cries you let out into his tie. One of his hands slithered up your bent form, making sure to squeeze one of your breasts on the way up before taking hold of your jaw. His long fingers brushed over your chin, the drool already gathering there making him pick up his pace. He pressed the knot he made in his tie further between your teeth, making you whimper a plea that had him chuckling.

“Messy fuckin thing, by the time I fill you up there’s gonna be a mess on your face and between your thighs.”

⋆⋆⋆

Ushijima is a simple man with simple desires. Despite that, he actually enjoys using a gag on you because it gives him even more power over you than you already give him. He typically won’t use one unless other BDSM elements are in play (his favourite is ropes because he likes to make intricate patterns over your skin) but his favourite type to use is a deep throat gag. In every sense of the word, Ushi is big and wants to make sure your tight little throat is ready to be used when he wants it to use it. There’s a couple of different sizes he uses that he has you build up with, but each one comes with a reward when you’re able to swallow it down without gagging.

Although his face was usually calm during sessions today was an exception as he worked the length of the gag between your lips. “Baby, tap out if you need to—“ But you just furrowed your brows at him, fists tightening in determination which were currently bound above your head. It was a sign for him to keep going, so he did. He pushed the slick silicon between your lips until the hilt rested against your lips. He didn’t do up the leather strap just yet, waited to see if you’d gag or choke with such a big size being shoved down your throat. But there you were, sitting pretty with tears riming your lashes, the gag pressing snuggly down on your tongue. Ushijima hummed out, pleased with such progress as he was slow to buckle up the leather strap. He pressed kisses along your jaw, a small smile creeping its way onto his lips.

“I’m so proud of you, little one.”

⋆⋆⋆

Oikawa will only use ring gags because it keeps your mouth wide open and ready to use whenever he feels he needs it. Plus it allows for him to still be able to hear you when you moan and cry for him. He also loves the mess you make with a ring gag, helpless to the drool and bubbling spit that falls from your chin. Sometimes as a form of punishment he’ll leave you between his thighs, arms bound and a ring gag held snuggly between your lips. He’ll stroke his cock lazily while watching tv, only grabbing a fist full of your hair to shove that sloppy mouth of yours onto his cock when he feels the need.

The whines you let out are ignored completely by Oikawa, a little huff leaving his lips as his eyes slowly slip from the screen down to between his legs. There you sat, eyes wide and mascara streak marks down your cheeks. Your body was already trembling, sitting on your hunches for whenever Oikawa decided to take hold of your hair once more. He could see the way your tongue tried to pick up some of the drool that fell from the ring, only making matters worse as a new little stream of spit fell off your chin to continue to dampen your tank top. Oikawa just couldn’t help himself, and in one swift motion, his hips were pressing his cock back between the ring, burying deep within your throat that had it constricting. He hissed softly before a small flutter of laughter escaped him.

“Fuck, at least this fucking throat is good for something. Maybe I should keep this ring on all the time so you’ll always be ready for my dick? You like the sound of that baby?” He was only met by muffled whines and gags as he bobbed your head along this length.

⋆⋆⋆

Daichi hates when you talk back to him, it makes him so tense because all he does is treat you like his perfect little princess. So when you do get mouthy he has no problem getting you worked up whenever you are. He’ll tease, whisper into your ear about how naughty your being, grab handfuls of your ass until you make a mess of your panties. He’ll then shove the filthy material between your lips. Not only will get to humiliate you then, but he’ll also get to punish you properly without having to hear a single peep from you.

“You think good little girls talk back to their daddy’s like you do? No. They listen, and they behave. Since you wanna use such a filthy mouth I’ll keep it filthy for you.” Your previous cries were brought down to muffles as Daichi forced your damp panties between your lips. Balled up and soaked from your precious arousal you can’t even help but let your eyes flutter, the taste of your own desire making your cheeks burn bright pink. Daichi has to scoff, fingers pressing into your cheeks as giving your jaw a little shake. “Taste that? That’s your filthy little cum stains. Imagine staining your own panties from a few promises of punishment?” His cock was heavy as he quickly freed it from his boxers, making you Yelp softly as it slapped down against your already soaked slit. He rubbed it along you a few moments, pressing into your cheeks harder to keep your panties in place.

“Maybe if I just fuck you stupid, you’ll stop talking altogether?”

⋆⋆⋆

Kuroo likes to keep with the classics, and there’s nothing more classic than a ball gag. He started off with wiffleball first, wanting you to feel nothing but comfortable before he moved on to solid silicon, balls that would leave your jaw aching after sessions. He loved the way you looked, sitting on your knees for him on the bed with a bright red ball gag wedged in your mouth, already covered in spit. He would the type to put on you whenever you felt like it just so he could coo about how pretty you looked. He also took many many pictures of your mouth stuffed, keeping a secret folder just for it.

“Stay still kitten,” Kuroo mumbled close to your ear, pressing a couple playful kisses to your lobe as he secured the black leather behind your head. He slipped two fingers into the band, making sure it was loose enough to pull off if needed but tighten to hold. Once he was pleased he pulled away, the most satisfying groan leaving his lips as yours were stretched around the bright red. “Perfect, my perfect fucking kitten...” he spoke, his thumb pressing along the ball as you blinked up at him with wide, needy eyes. Your hands stay still on your lap exactly where he instructed them, a little whine coming out muffled only when Kuroo pulled away from you fully. He rose a brow at that, the flash of disappointment in his gaze enough to have you resting back down on your hunches.

“Ah, I said stay still, Kitty. I’ll play with you soon I promise. But Daddy needs a few pictures of his beautiful baby before we can get started. So keep sitting pretty for me.”

⋆⋆⋆

Kita only uses any form of BDSM with you because you’re interested in it. When you brought it up to him he was very much unaware but did as much research as possible. He decides to start off with a bite gag because, unlike ball gags, it allows for more relaxation of the jaw, as well as causes less mess in terms of drool. Plus he’s always enjoyed watching you bite down on the sheets when you're feeling a lot of pleasure, so the bite gag allows for him to watch your teeth sink on so perfectly into the rubber.

Kita’s thrusts slowed almost too much for you, your pussy desperately fluttering around his length to bring back that friction. You wanted to beg him to keep going, pick the pace back up but all you could do was let out muffled cries, press your teeth further into the bite forced between your lips. Kita watched it all, the way your face twisted up with need, the way your back arched, the way your hips jutted forwards in hopes to feel more of him. He just let out a soft little groan, planting a firm palm on your hip to keep you in place as he continued his slow, dragged out thrusts into your throbbing cunt.

“Just a little longer like this, kay Darlin? I love seeing you bite into that gag, we’re gonna have to use it more often.”

⋆⋆⋆

Iwaizumi was used to using his hand, slapping it over your lips when he found you were getting too loud. But he never knew what to do with all your squirming. Cuffs were too simple and ropes just weren’t his vibe, but when he discovered bondage tape it was a whole other ball game. Not only was it perfect because it only stuck to itself, resulting in safer play, but it was very much effective in shutting you up when he needed you quiet. His favourite part is watching you flinch when he rips a piece away from the roll, the way you shiver in anticipation as he hovers the piece over your lips. It only when you're about to whine at him that he presses it against your lips, a grin curling on his lips.

“Fuck Princess, you’re tighter than usual? Excited?” Iwaizumi murmured, his grin growing as he watched your eyes roll up in pleasure. He brought a large palm up to your cheek, bringing your blurry vision back to his own. His thrusts slowed, allowing his thick cock to drag along that throbbing spot within you. That had your back arching, muffled little pleas melting into the tape that was held firm over your lips. Iwaizumi sighed softly, his thumb rubbing over the tape to feel out the outline of your pretty lips. The action had you nuzzling into his palm, another string of muffled nonsense trying to escape the tape and failing miserably.

“I know you’re begging me to move faster under here... but remember princess, Master makes the rules. So let’s keep you quiet and I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow.”

[mviswidow]

i'm glad you texted me; part two

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Prompt: Hii! Im not sure if you are taking requests but could you write a sequel to Im glad you texted me maybe where R realizes that she has feelings for Wanda and it makes Wanda all happy and giddy 🥺🥺.

part one

You woke up confused after a dream about making out with Wanda that made your head want to explode. You became alarmed when you realized the arm around you was hers, the hand you were holding: also hers, and the leg in between yours also belonged to her.

You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, smoothing your hair back, before you did your best to untangle your limbs without waking her up.

Carefully, you made your way to the bathroom and closed the door behind you before sighing, washing your face, and looking at yourself in the mirror. Did you like her? Since when is this a thing? Is this why Nat always teases you about - oh my god, you totally like her. You groaned quietly, putting your head in your hands, your thoughts overwhelming you. All you could do was pray that Wanda wasn’t awake because you were sure as hell that if she was, she’d be able to hear what you were thinking.

You went through your top drawer to find your hairbrush and brush through your hair before brushing your teeth. You put your things away and your eyes flicked over to the other side of the bathroom counter, where she kept her toothbrush. The one she used when she slept over in your room.

Did she like you back? Your heart raced at the idea and you couldn’t believe that you thought thinking about whether or not her lips were soft could be ‘casual’. Wanda was beautiful, like- absolutely, incredibly stunning. There was no doubt about it. You loved everything about her, you just hoped she was feeling the same way you did.

Something about the disappointed look on her face before she noticed you’d opened the door and come back in told you that maybe she did.

Her eyes lit up when she saw you and she smiled without hesitation, holding her hands out for a hug.

You giggled and complied, although your pulse was pounding in your ears. Her chest pressed against yours as you sat in her lap felt different now and you felt a little guilty for thinking about her this way when you hadn’t had a conversation about how you felt about each other.

“I thought you left,” she admitted, fingers twirling the ends of your hair mindlessly.

You shook your head, “How could I do that when we’re supposed to spend the day together?”

She smiled brightly, the corners of her eyes crinkling a little, and ducked her head, “You’re right, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Wands,” you eased yourself off of her and stretched your arms up for a moment. “Go get ready, alright? I’ll make us breakfast after I change. Maybe if you don’t take forever to get ready it won't be cold this time,” you teased.

Wanda snickered while rolling her eyes and walking past you, “Okay, Ms Y/L/N. I’ll see you in a bit.”

You waited until she closed the door on her way out to release a breath you’d been holding and you tugged a change of clothes on, settling on something casual, a simple long sleeved shirt and nice jeans.

You looked around your room and grabbed your phone, shoving it in your back pocket, and looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment before leaving your room and racing down the corridor to Natasha’s room as quietly as you could.

You knocked insistently until she opened the door with a glare, but her lips turned up in a smirk when she saw your flustered expression, and you had a feeling she knew what this was about.

She let you in, closed the door, and made the way to her bed with crossed arms and a raised brow, “Are you here to admit something?”

You groaned and ran your fingers through your hair, “I like Wanda.”

A smile spread on her face and you avoided her gaze, letting your eyes drop to the floor as you leaned against the wall, “Finally. I thought she was going to figure out you liked her before you did.”

Whining dramatically, you said, “God, is it really that obvious?”

Nat scoffed, smile still intact, “Oh, definitely. Everyone on the team knows. You guys stare at each other all day. And during missions you’re all like, ‘I thought you might die! I’m so glad you’re okay, please marry-’”

“Okay, I get it,” you grumbled, sinking down to the floor and hugging your knees.

“Listen, just ask her out,” she sighed, expression softening as she got off the bed to sit across from you. She took your hand in hers and rubbed your knuckles, “You make her really happy, Y/n/n. And I know you love her a lot. You both deserve this. Wanda’s been through a lot and I think she’s too afraid to tell you how she feels. I mean, I know even if you didn’t like her back you wouldn’t push her away, but she’s lost a lot of people. I don’t know how she’d react if she lost you, too.”

You chewed the inside of your bottom lip and nodded, “You’re right. Thank you, Tasha.”

Natasha smiled again before standing, tugging your arm to get you standing, and pulling you into a quick hug, “Don’t mention it.”

“I’ll see you later,” you waved as you opened the door and made your way to the kitchen.

You’d finished making breakfast in a short 10 minutes and set Wanda’s plate of blueberry pancakes in front of her usual seat as you took a bite of what you’d cooked for yourself.

Surprisingly, Wanda finished getting ready quickly and made it into the kitchen shortly after you put water bottles in front of her seat and in front of you.

You smiled, seeing her tuck her hair behind her ears as she walked in wearing a dark blue dress and her usual combat boots, “You look nice.”

You enjoyed observing the way she blushed while she sat down and hummed once she was able to smell the pancakes, “Thank you. You look really good- I mean, you look nice. Also.”

You raised an eyebrow and she cleared her throat, starting to stuff her mouth with the pancake so she didn’t have to talk to you.

“Do you feel any better?” you asked, watching her play with her rings nervously.

Wanda nodded, giving you a grateful smile. “I feel a lot better, my stomach ache is all gone.”

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to psych yourself up enough to ask her, but she noticed your furrowed brow and pursed lips, “You okay?”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Um, okay. Better to just get it all out at once, then?

Wanda dropped her fork as her eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened. You watched her mouth open before a hopeful smile broke out on her face, “Are you really?”

“I’m pretty sure, yeah,” you nodded, a nervous chuckle coming out.

“I’m definitely in love with you. Like, I have been for a long time,” she said, looking way less tense and nervous.

“I only just figured it out, but I know that you’re the most important person to me and I don’t think I’ve been caring about you in the normal friend way,” you bit your lip.

Wanda stood up and walked around the counter, pausing when she was a few feet away from you, “Can I kiss you?”

[fictional-scenarios]

hello! can i request an angsty fic with aizawa and f! reader where they break up? thank you!

i hope you enjoy this! i did it from his perspective, hope thats okay! also i know he probably wouldn’t actually be like this in a relationship, but for the fic, this is the only way i could see him being at fault :3

always appreciate reblogs and comments! if you’d lie to support me, here’s my ko-fi!

In the worst of the aftermath, Aizawa was not angry. He was never angry, not truly. Not even when he’d snap at his friends for bringing up her name, or when he’d feel rage churning in his stomach at the thought of her being with another. He was never angry. 

He was sad. So devastatingly, core achingly sad, that it kept him bed ridden for days at a time. Work, come home, eat and sleep. It wouldn't end. 

He’d always considered his quant home a safe haven, but lately it’d been feeling like a prison. It felt like a haunting museum, little bits of her as far as the eye could see. The memories were so vivid, he could still almost see the figure of her standing in his doorway. He could see her leaning on the window sill peering outside. He could see her shoes by the front door, her toothbrush in a cup upon his sink. He could see her under the covers with him, hushed laughter and soft snoring into the early morning.

Even now, he see’s her beside him in bed. He see’s the indent of where she should be, now terribly empty. It makes him feel cold, alone. 

But, being alone had never been a huge issue to him before all this. In fact, he knows it was the downfall of him. 

She’d just wanted him to go out with her now and then. She just wanted to take photos with him, hold his hand out in public without feeling like she’d been forcing him. 

Aizawa buries his face in his hands, his back leaning against the cold wall, blanket curled around his waist like a weight. 

All she had wanted was just a little more life. Just a few more kisses, a few more hugs. A few more signs that he truly cared for her, but he wouldn’t hear of it. She knew he loved her, why couldn’t that be enough? 

He refused public dates that weren’t anniversaries or events. He hated photos. He hated when she’d clasp fingers around his own, hated it because all it brought was attention. Paparazzi's scavenging and ruining every affectionate and tender moment they’d shared together in public. 

He never understood why it had to be public. He couldn’t wrap his mind around why she would insist they get out and so something together. Why couldn't hanging out in the seclusion of his home be enough?

Always so stubborn, especially when it would have been the correct time to give in. His annoyance and unwillingness to be anything other than slow moving and low maintenance drove her away from him. He was just fine being on his own, so why couldn't she?

‘I feel like you’re embarrassed of me,’ She’d cried, having hit her breaking point. ‘I feel like you don’t even really care about me.”

Aizawa’s jaw tightens. Of course I care about you. Why else would I want you here?

He should have said that. But, he didn’t. Just silently witnessed the destruction unsure of what to do next. Unsure of whether to argue, or remain dormant and quiet. Not quite apathetic, but he was never one for a shouting match. 

Unfortunately, he chose to remain still in the face of a crumbling heart. 

‘Even now, you won’t say a word. You don’t ever talk to me, Shota. You never ask how my day was, or if I want to go do anything. Why do I feel like I’m just here so you’re not lonely?’ She’d had fat tears welling in the pits of her eyes. She looked drained, broken. ‘I need more,’ Voice cracking, a terrible realization she’d stumbled upon. ‘I need more than that.’ 

It was a tense moment of silence. She shook her head and choked back a harsh sob.

‘Then that’s it.’ Lip trembling, feeling unwanted. ‘I can’t do this with you anymore. I’m leaving.’

At the lucid memory, Aizawa wish's he could go back and punch himself in the head. Say something, you idiot, he’d scream. Tell her to stay.

She’d passed him by, and the door slammed shut before he even turned to watch her go. 

It’s been weeks now, and he can’t seem to get his head right. It’d taken days before she came to collect her things, something he hoped would never come to be. A stupid part of him believed that she’d come around for some reason. It’d happened before- her storming out, him never changing, her missing him enough to just... Get over it. This time, however, was much different. 

Sinking in the memories, Aizawa feels his throat tighten at everything she’d said, and even worse, everything he didn’t say. His phone lights up beside him. 

yamada: are you still moping in there???? come out w us tonight! you need to get outta bed at some point

yamada: its been weeeeeeks!!!!!!! come on!!!!!!!

Aizawa knows he does. He knows his friend has been trying to get him to leave since it happened, but it’s hard.  He answered his friend, deciding that tonight he would in fact go out for a few hours just to clear his mind- anything is starting to become better than seeing a home empty of her. He sends the message, and his heart grows heavy.

He said yes to his friends when he was feeling sorry for himself, but never for her. He knew he deserved it, but it hurt not having her anymore. Especially when all he had to do was say yes sometimes. 

What stung the most was that he didn’t get to see her when she came to collect all her items, cram them into a box and leave for the last time. He’d hoped at that point, if it ever came to that, he could convince her to stay. But.. She hadn’t told him she was coming. Perhaps because she knew she was bound to give in. 

He came from from U.A., hoping that she’d be there, sleeping soundly or sitting terse on the couch ready for an argument ending conversation. 

But, she wasn’t there. In fact, nothing of her was. All her things vacated. Everything but the memory of her stripped away. 

Aizawa had stood stunned in the doorway. Then, it all came crashing down. She was serious this time. It was set in stone.

She’d really left him.

He didn’t think she’d actually leave him. Arguments were always so easy for Aizawa. He was a firm believer in ‘take me as a I am, or don’t take me at all.’ But, he’d never realized just how much changing she’d done for him. 

When he’d first met her at a group outing, she was full of life. She was bouncy and energetic. She had a sea of friends, a world of opportunities. But with him, with Aizawa’s stubbornness combined with her need and want to spend time with him, she went out less and less. Contacts in her phone dwindled from a vast ocean to merely puddles. 

Seldom she went out, and on the rare occasions she was able to get Aizawa to go, she’d dress in her best just for him to chastise her. ‘We’re not going anywhere that fancy,’ he’d remark, not noticing how her eyes fell. ‘Aren’t you a little over dressed?’

Guilt tore up his heart, now. She was always so beautiful dressed up like that, how could he ever say those things? Too late did he notice how she’d changed everything for him. Lost friends, missed outings, just so she could remain by his side. He did everything wrong and wasn't even willing to see it. He felt like a neglectful, stubborn, ass. 

Forcing himself up from bed, it takes all his strength to get up and wander into the bathroom. He’d need to start getting ready then if he was to go later. He was a slow moving creature, after all. Lazily, mentally drained and exhausted, he opens the mirror and pulls his toothbrush from the little shelves inside. The mirror swings shut and he’s met with his dreadful reflection. 

His eyes are even darker, redder, than they ever were with his quirk. Even he could tell he looked worse for wear. Drained, emotionally vacant yet so powerfully overrun with them at the same time. He looked dead. He brings the toothbrush to his teeth, but can’t bring himself to find the motivation to actually begin cleaning up. 

So tired. 

He just wants to sleep again. 

He wants to text her. But he doesn’t.

Tossing the toothbrush into the sink, resting his elbows on the edges and allowing his head to hang in sorrow, he wonders what she’s doing right now. It’s a warm Friday evening, the blue sky wide and clear. He’s sure she’s going out tonight, finally allowing herself the freedom to make up for all the time she’d missed with her friends. Friday’s were always Aizawa’s least favorite day. He just knew she’d want to go out, and he’d always combat it with a movie she’d been wanting to see, coming up with some random excuse as to why it wouldn’t be an ideal idea to go out. 

Then, he’d ignore how she sadly watched her friends social media stories about the night, and ignored their texts asking why she’s never around anymore.

God, what he would give for one more Friday night with her. He’d dress up, he’d take her somewhere so nice even he would be afraid he couldn’t afford the food. Her and all her friends. Whoever she wants, the whole world if need be. He’d do anything she wanted, strut her to a party on a red-carpet. Anything just for another Friday night. 

Aizawa’s eyes cast back up to his reflection. A lump forms in his throat, he watches his eyes glisten with tears. He wants to fall into the floor and forget about everything. 

Pushing himself away from the sink, he shake his head and gags on how tight his threat feels. Without even a moments hesitation, he finds himself right back in his room, pulls the covers aside, and drowns in them all over again. It’s dark, it’s cold. His own rooms uninviting without her. 

Yet, he can’t seem to bring himself to leave it.

His phone sits on his pillow. Aizawa opens his friends message. 

‘im going to stay in tonight. thank you for inviting me. im tired’

Aizawa doesn’t even want to see the messages his friend instantly starts blowing his phone up with. Instead, seconds after the text sends, he holds the power button until the entire screen goes black. He rolls over to face the wall, and he feels like he’s made of led. He swallows hard and gives into sleep all over again. His arm slings around a pillow, and he clutches it to his chest. 

A forever inanimate reminder of where she once laid. 

[jolalibrary]

Stood Up + Salads

Diego Hargreeves x Fem!Reader Words: 1.5k AN: Set with a S1 Diego but not S1 or S2 storyline. For a friend, you know who you are.

He didn’t need to look up when the door goes, he knows it’s you. Because when it rains, it pours.

Diego wonders if he should be more upset about his father, rather than being upset he’s had to see the others. Only for him to take his frustration out on you, consciously or not.

The fact you allow the door to meet the frame with such a loud thud is enough of a signal to him that you’re pissed.

Diego takes a second, thinking of his next steps as he swipes his tongue over his teeth, staring at the punching bag, as if it’s going to provide any answers on what he should do. How he could get out of this. Because if he plays this wrong, which he will, it’s going to spiral. Becoming so much worse than it already is.

A whole lot fucking worse.

And it’s already bad.

Hitting the bag once, twice and then thrice, he pays attention to your footsteps nearing. Not turning, not needing to see if your arms are folded, lips pursed and giving him one of you signature dead expressions. He knows you will be, because Diego fucking knows you and you know him.

And he hates it.

He despises that you know about his tick. About his family. About his upbringing, talent and everything else in between. He hates that you suggested calling off the meal before he did, and he hates himself for agreeing to go even if he knew he wouldn’t attend.

Because he’s decided he hates being happy.

He likes being miserable, likes fighting petty crime without anyone to come home to.

“Asshole.”

Rolling his head, he casts his eyes over you. Finding you exactly as he’s imagined. The only—slight—difference is the look in your eyes.

Sadness. A look which doesn’t suit you. One which stands out to him, because he’s seen it so rarely.

It swirls in your eyes, mixing with your usual shade, darkening them as they pin him to his spot. Or try to.

Letting his hands fall to his sides, he lets out a sigh before he can help himself. And the glare you send him is enough to force him to turn to face you.

When it comes to you, he isn’t sure if he hates how close you are to him physically or metaphorically; not sure if he dislikes it more that he wants to kiss you or let you love him.

“Hello to you too.”

Your lips twitch into a smirk. “You don’t deserve a hello.”

“Touché.”

“Surprised you know that word.”

“Under all this, I’m clever y’know?”

“Are you?” you snap, and you roll your lips together.

Those painted plump lips that’s kissed every inch of him. That he’s woke up dreaming about and gone to sleep pressed against.

“You’re angry—“

“Oh, I’m past angry, Hargreeves,” you says, tapping your foot on the gym floor. “I was angry when I was on my second glass, wondering where you were. I was fuming when I left, embarrassed and ready to hunt you down. Now, now I’m almost murderous.”

He hasn’t been called his surname in sometime. Hasn’t found himself in hot waters, with you at least, in sometime. Even angry, he feels your eyes rake down his frame, following a bead of sweat which falls from his neck down his chest and stomach.

Pulling the gloves undone with his teeth, snaps your eyes back up. And he finds himself smirking at you and his own foolishness simultaneously.

Because deep down he’s known this day would come, where you—like most—tired of him. Finding yourself irritated with his ways, of his selfishness and his impulsiveness.

“Let me have it then.”

He throws the gloves to the floor, shifting his weight as he notices the slight narrowing of your eyes. The way your lips twitch, whether a smirk or a smile, he can’t be sure. Usually, there’s less talking when you’re like this; usually you’re already pinned under him or against something. Now, you don’t even look at him like you’d welcome that.

Diego hates you for that too.

Despises that you have gotten under his skin, throwing him off his game. He’s dated. Well, since Patch they’ve not been constant. Real or permanent.

But you, you got to him. He still doesn’t even know how.

You don’t bend as easily, don’t surrender as you should. You fight him, sometimes tooth and fucking nail, and fuck, he doesn’t hate that about you. He loves that. He loves it when you steal the wind from his sail; when you cut him down. You don’t pander to him, you call him out, and he needs that even if he can’t admit it.

He even doesn’t mind that you sooth the insecurity, recognising when enough is enough. Halting anything before it goes too far, leaves too many wounds. You make him want to try to be a little better, even if he fails most days.

“No.”

“No?”

You snort. “No. Because if I rip you a new one, you’ll find some way to say sorry. And, then you’ll kiss me, and I’ll melt, and then you will forget that you’re an asshole.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”

Your jaw tenses, almost impossibly so. “For someone in your position, you have a lot of snark.”

“Be careful, you may hurt my feelings.”

Nodding, your lips twist before straightening to an unreadable expression again. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m done.”

His muscles relax.

And his heart stops.

Yet Diego is somehow, not as surprised as he should have been.

Even if he looks at you, staring at your eyes and hoping to see a tease, a jest. He looks hoping you will change your mind, that he hasn’t successfully pushed another person away.

“Took you long en—“

“Im done talking,” you continue, cutting him off. Taking closer steps, slow ones, full of purpose as you dig your eyes into him. “I’m not gonna ask you to do right by me, I’m not gonna ask for an explanation why you decided to stand me up tonight. Hey, you don’t even have to talk to me.”

His forehead creases, flicking his eyes from your eyes to your mouth.

“Because I know why. You want me without the commitment, without the expectations of being a good person. You want a hole to fuck, so here I am, Hargreeves. You’ve got one.”

Fuck.

He stifles a sigh, especially as your finger press into his chest, nail digging down into the skin as you roll your lips and then he has to focus on not groaning. Especially when you bat your eyes lashes and smirk so condescendingly he wonders if you’ve been sent to test him.

“You want to pretend you don’t crave normal, that you don’t deserve it,” you continue, looking up at him, “I’ll play pretend. Hey, I’ll become the best damn actor in your movie you’ll ever know. But, I’m done talking.”

You place your other hand on his, moving his to your hip as you smirk.

“So, lights camera action, baby. Where do you wanna fuck me first?”

He feels your lips ghost over his. His hand clenching around your hip. Everything inside of him telling to just go with it, to not talk, to not burst open in front of you.

To kiss you.

To throw you down on the mats and not talk for hours.

“I-I’m s-sorry.”

“No. No you’re not,” you says, full of sadness, your expression not changing to match your tone. “If you were, you’d have come to dinner. You’d have stabbed your fork into the salad before I’d have told you I want street food.”

You didn’t move, and neither does he. Your hand spreading over his chest, his hand still on your hip.

“You don’t let yourself enjoy anything, because what? Your dad was an asshole and your brother went to the moon?” You ask, head tilted. “Diego, I don’t give a shit if you’re number two, you’re number one for me. But you have to try. You have to try at least ten percent otherwise it’s just me, forcing you to be with me.”

He never feels forced. Not with you.

You’re sometimes the only thing which is good. Which isn’t fucked, tainted or ruined. You’re good, if not a bit too sweary and a bit too good at drinking. But, you’re… nice, and unwilling to let him settle.

“You’re m-my number o-one too.”

“Cool.”

“I mean i-it.”

“Nice.”

“Baby, c'mon?”

You sigh. “What, Diego?”

Diego. He’s Diego again.

He doesn’t smile, even if he wants too.

He doesn’t kiss you, even if he’s fighting every part of himself.

He just stares, using his other hand to cup your cheek. “I am sorry.”

“Salad at a fancy place too good for you?”

He smirked. “Yeah, kinda.”

“Good. Because it’s too fancy for me too.”

“So why we’re we even fucking going, baby?”

“Because,” you say, defiance in your tone, “it’s what normal people do. They don’t meet over a bad game of darts and several beers, and fuck on a boxing ring. They don’t fight a literal mugger with trained assassin-level knife skills a month after beginning to sleep together.”

Your shoulders sink, your expression softening. “They date, at restaurants who charge too much and hold hands across parks. And for a second, one tiny fucking moment, I wanted that for you. I wanted normal, meet-cute type romance before we grabbed whatever was in a cart and we fucked on my new sideboard.”

His thumb brushed over your cheek. “I’d have liked that.”

“You’d have loved that. But—“

“I’m sorry,” he says again, softer, more meaningful, “I’m s-s-sorry. I really am.”

“I’m still mad.”

“That’s okay.”

“You owe me a fancy salad.”

Smirking, he nods. “Baby, I’ll give you a salad bar if you want it.”

“I don’t like salad.”

“No?”

“No.”

Smirking, he cups your cheek with more purpose. “What do you want then, baby?”

He watches your eyes darken. "Oh."

"Oh, indeed. You have a lot of making up to do.”

[firelxdykatara]

Katara x Aang :3c

are you trying to get me in trouble

-cough-

no but in all honesty, my genuine feelings about kataang boil down to three major points: 1. it's boring, and does not jive thematically with either of their character arcs, to the point of, 2. actively hampering character development on both sides, and 3. katara deserved better.

points expanded under the cut. (please, if you're a kataang shipper and you see this, just keep scrolling. i've tagged it appropriately and put the bulk under a cut and at this point that's literally all i can do lmfao.)

send me a ship and get my (brutally) honest opinion!

1. It's Boring: This is the most subjective point on the list (I mean, in fairness, it's all subjective, but I have evidence from the show and post-canonical materials to support my other points; this one is just preference), but there's just... nothing to kataang. It's cute (when it's not actively aggravating), and... that's about it. It's not even that I dislike friends-to-lovers as a shipping trope (though it's not my overall preference), because there are a lot of friends-to-lovers couples that I do ship (kanej comes to mind, also will/elizabeth from potc, karolsen from supergirl, romione and hinny from hp, among others), but one thing that I think all of those couples have that kataang doesn't is that both sides of the pairing are teens or adults when they get together, with teen/adult dynamics and issues and stories to deal with, rather than one half being a teenager and the other being literally prepubescent.

And don't get me wrong, I have no problem with age gap ships in general. And as far as atla goes, Katara, at 14, has the same age difference from Zuko (16) as Aang has from her, and it's never stopped me--because both Katara and Zuko are well into puberty when they meet and I have no problem picturing them being into one another and growing together as they enter adulthood. Aang, on the other hand, is a child. And he acts like it. Which wouldn't be a problem, if the show weren't expecting me to believe he is a) ready for a romantic relationship, and b) ready for one specifically with Katara, who is not only older and far more mature but is specifically cast as his caretaker in a very maternal role for the entire show's run.

This show asks me to believe that a teenage girl well into adolescence is going to be attracted to and develop romantic feelings for a pre-adolescent child--and it asks me to believe this while showing us otherwise that Katara's type is actually older boys with fabulous hair and angsty pasts in all of her other potential romantic dalliances--and then enter into a relationship with him, all while ignoring the elephant in the room that is the fact that she was basically acting like his mother for the entire series to that point. (Something that is heavily lampshaded earlier in the very same season.) That just stretches the bounds of credulity way too far for me, especially when there's no evidence that Katara herself would get anything out of their romantic relationship.

There's nothing there for me to sink my teeth into. No delicious development, no parallels where they help each other grow, no internal conflicts that they have to work through together, nothing. Certainly no reason for me to actually believe Katara feels (or would grow to feel) anything for him other than the platonic affection of a caretaker. I can easily believe she loves him dearly, as a friend and quasi-little-brother, but I just can't see that developing naturally into romantic love--not the way it's presented in the show.

And even if they did manage to at least make the development of Katara's feelings believable, unless they changed something fundamental about the nature of their relationship, it'd still be boring, so.

2. It Actively Hampers Their Character Development--On Both Sides: I've written before (extensively lol im so sorry) about how kataang is actively detrimental to Katara and to Aang. In short (because ye gods this post is already getting long enough), Katara is narratively harmed by being shoved into a relationship that completely ignores her stated feelings--a relationship that had been presented as a one-sided puppylove crush for the vast majority of the series--and it inhibits her growth as a character in ways that become far more obvious in the comics and lok, where the very same creative forces that lead to her beginning a relationship with Aang in the first place reduce her to 'the Avatar's girl' and very little else, all the way through to the end of LoK (where she is a Healer and the Avatar's wife and, again, very little else).

As for Aang:

As to how this relationship is detrimental to Aang (other than the comics and LoK nonsense)? Just take a look at book 2, when he’s trying to learn Earthbending from Toph. Katara constantly coddles him. Much of the time, she’s afraid to be anything other than gentle and understanding with Aang--partly because of her fear that if she pushes him too far, he’ll run away. (Which he does, several times.) But sometimes, what Aang needs to grow is a sharp kick in the slats, which Toph was more than willing to provide--and which worked. Katara was great for teaching Aang to waterbend, but he needed more than that to grow as a person. And he can’t get that while he’s in a relationship with someone who will apologize for getting upset when he was very explicitly neglecting her.

In addition, it is pointed out by Guru Pathik at the end of Book 2 that one of Aang's chakras is blocked by his attachment to Katara. Aang takes this to mean (incorrectly) that he has to stop loving her in order to become fully realized as an Avatar, but this is actually part of the problem--because the issue isn't that he is in love with Katara, it's that he's possessively attached to her. He believes himself entitled to her love in return, rather than selflessly loving someone regardless of whether or not they return that affection. (This is obvious come the EIP episode, where Aang demands to know why he and Katara aren't in a relationship already--because he kissed her without asking [or even checking to see if she'd be ok with kissing him], which he phrases as mutual even though it very much was not, and he gets angry and violates her boundaries when she says that she is confused and doesn't want to think about it right then.)

It is his attachment to Katara--the need for her to return his love, the belief that she will and it is only a matter of time before he gets what he wants--that he was supposed to let go of, not his feelings for her in general. Unfortunately, while he pays lipservice to doing this (far too late for it to be useful--if he'd stayed with the Guru for five more minutes and unlocked his chakra there, that battle would've gone very differently), he almost immediately backtracks on that development come book 3, and there isn't another single whisper of Aang maybe growing up and moving past his one-sided and possessive crush and realizing that even if Katara doesn't feel the same way, it doesn't mean she loves him less or that their friendship is less important.

What really needed to happen, for Aang to grow as a person and become fully realized as an Avatar, was for him to grow up. To realize that his feelings were not of paramount importance, and that even if he was in love with Katara, he was not entitled to her love in return. He should have been able to move past his need for her to love him back, in order to get past that stumbling block, unlock his chakras, and regain the Avatar State in time to face the Firelord. But he didn't. As a result, they had to find some other way to just give him the Avatar State (a well-placed rock) and the means to defeat Ozai without killing him (the deus ex lionturtle) and his entire character arc just fell apart in the third act rather than reaching a satisfying conclusion.

3. Katara Deserved Better: This really ties into how her romantic relationship with Aang hampered her own development, but I'm still bitter enough about it that it gets its own bullet-point. And the biggest single reason I could never ship kataang--the thing that would've turned me off even if there were substance and a halfway decent storyline for them--is the fact that Aang kisses her without her consent (for the second time) in Ember Island Players, Katara gets angry at him and storms off, and then..... she walks out onto the balcony to make out with him.

With nothing to bridge that gap.

It's bad enough that a show aimed at children had a scene where the child protagonist kissed the object of his affections without her consent when she didn't want him to (made explicit by her angry reaction)--and this is absolutely an issue when the show is aimed at children and it may well be the first experience they've had with consent issues portrayed in media--but this moment is never addressed again. Katara just decides--completely off-screen--that she does love him Really and walks out to make out with him in the epilogue. There's no conversation, no apology for violating her boundaries, no discussion of why that was wrong or any indication that Aang understands what he did and why it upset her. They don't have a single one-on-one interaction between that kiss and the epilogue, and the only other time they are on screen together, Aang yells at her and storms off.

So, even leaving the comics and lok aside, Katara deserved much better from her own romantic plotline. In fact, she deserved to have one, rather than simply being the oblivious object of Aang's affections, given a couple moments where she blushes but otherwise remains completely ignorant of his feelings (she looks shocked and upset when he kisses her prior to the invasion, and then she completely forgets that even happened because she's confused as to what Aang is even talking about during EIP until he brings it up; that's not the behavior of a fourteen-year-old girl who was kissed by someone she was developing romantic feelings for), before the epilogue where it becomes clear that she figured all of that out off-screen and had feelings for him after all.

She's a main character, not a side-character written in solely to give one of the mains a love interest. She deserved a romantic plotline of her own. (She could have had one with someone else, with very few changes made to what was actually on-screen prior to the epilogue, but that's another conversation entirely.) She deserved to have her feelings considered at all important by the person she was going to be paired with in the end, rather than having him just assume she felt the same way and then get mad at her for never giving any indication of it when he'd never asked about her feelings to begin with. She deseserved agency in her own romantic narrative, and she just didn't get that with Aang.

So yeah, at the end of the day, my biggest issue with kataang is that it involved doing Katara dirty, and she's my favorite character and she deserved so much better damnit.