#OP YOU MIGHT BE ONTO SOMETHING

[celenawrites]

pretty when you cry

pairing - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

word count - 2.4k

warnings - Ghost is a bit of a dick but he gets better, Reader is a bit of a crybaby here but it's just cuz she's very in tune with her emotions, Simon is emotionally constipated and cannot handle feelings, some fluff, heavy-ish (?) angst, open ending, etc.

Note - Kinda got tired of writing fluffy stuff all the time and my mental health is fraying atm, so I decided to (hopefully) hurt some folks with this little piece. Enjoy!

AO3 Version

Divider by @/firefly-graphics

You cry easy. 

That's what Ghost thought of you when you first joined Task Force-141. 

While he has always been skeptical of any new additions (often temporary) to the team he has come to love and trust after going through hell and back, Price was convinced that your impeccable record on stealth ops, your physical agility, and your skills as a sniper were much needed. 

Reluctantly, Ghost silently accepts his Captain’s decision.

However, time and time again, your sensitive nature had him worried that you might prove to be a heavy liability to the team. 

When you stub your toe against the leg of the table, you let out a few tears of frustration and pain, cursing everyone and their mothers while you hold your injured foot in the air as you comically jump around the kitchen, even though your lack of spatial awareness was to be blamed here. It is almost always a comical sight, Gaz rubbing your back in comfort while you curse and cry, failing to hide his amusement. Soap is not afraid to laugh at your face for it, while Price has this twinkle in his eye as he asks you to sit and eat something for breakfast. 

Simon ignores the flutter in his stomach when you take a seat next to him on the table, your wet hair letting out wafts of jasmine - all for him to smell and keep to himself. 

You cry when you accidentally let the door close on your pinky, dramatic hiccups leaving you as Soap ties up your little finger with white bandages, stroking your hair as he consoles you, "That's a brave lassie, yeah? You got this". (Soap has always been good with people, Simon notes.) Sometimes, Soap will be ‘kind enough’ to offer you to kiss your injuries better and you’d shove him, your face giving away the embarrassment and the humorous jest you feel around the demolition expert. 

You weep uncontrollably when you watch Marley and Me with Gaz in the rec room. Price and Ghost had been passing by, discussing the aftermath of a mission they had just returned from when they heard loud sobs coming from the usually empty room. They peer in to find both of you huddled close in soft blankets, a bowl of popcorn propped up in your lap and a box of tissues in Gaz’s lap, as you munch on the buttery snack and cry over the adorable dog finally being put to rest. You lean into Gaz for comfort and Ghost wonders if you still smell of mud and caked blood like you did on the field. 

Price decides to break up the party as he enters the room, clearing up his throat to grab the attention of his Sergeants. Your lip wobbles as he lightly scolds you, his brow laden with concern as he looks at you and tells you both to go get some much-needed rest. You pass him by as you leave the room, your hand being a feather’s touch away from his and he almost holds onto you. (He still has no idea why he almost reacted like that to you)

One time, Price had been sent to help Laswell out on a crucial mission and all you had accomplished during those three and a half weeks was mope around and wish your Captain were here. You’d be lying on the sofa in the common room and you’d whine to your companions. “I’m so bored. I miss Captain. I wish he was here”, you’d pout and Soap and Gaz would gang up on you, teasing you as they asked you whether you had some unresolved feelings for dear Price. (The idea of you coveting Price like a lover seemed ridiculous to him, really. You and the Captain? Not a chance)

And then there was that one time when you had to go on a solo mission (the first of you being on your own since you joined the task force, really) and when you had come back to him them, battered and bloodied and disheveled but still safe and sound and Price lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging as if all the weight of the world has disappeared now that you’re back home, back to your team (where you now rightfully belong). You rush to them, running as if you cannot close the distance between them fast enough, and Price hugs you with steady arms as he lets you cry into his shoulder, wetting his uniform as you all but sob in relief, leaning on your Captain for support as your legs turn like jelly, unable to support the weight of your weary body. 

It must’ve been terrifying - being out there on the field, hostility and death surrounding you in all directions and the only person you could possibly rely on is yourself. Keeping yourself safe and sane as you navigate unknown terrain and fight off the monsters who wear the skins of humans and pollute the very Earth they have been raised on. Blood and gore and gunpowder clinging to you like a second skin as you pray to survive another night and make it back home safely. Back to your team. 

Back to your kind captain, and sergeants you have befriended and a cold Lieutenant who sometimes fails to hide the care he carries for you in his brown eyes. 

Price has a look of sympathy and understanding on his face as he drags you to the infirmary, even holding your trembling hand in his warm palm as you flinch at the sight of the large syringe needle and hiss in pain whenever the alcohol-soaked cotton is applied to your cuts. He soothes you with a gentle pat on your back, mindful of your treated injuries as he softly tells you to clean up and maybe get some much needed sleep, asking Gaz to supply you with something to eat before you doze off due to fatigue and the morphine still floating in your system. 

Ghost found it annoying for the most part - sometimes snapping at you to "Shut up and focus" on bad days and while he’s still irked at the sentimentality you possess, something that he and his comrades have willingly allowed to wither and die in their souls, a small part of him - a part of him that still resembles who Simon was, a mimicry of the humanness he hasn’t felt in his dead soul for years, worried about you. Worried sick about you and your emotions and the lack of lid you have on it. Worried if he had been too harsh on you because he doesn’t do emotions, and clearly he is out of his depth when it comes to dealing with people, but especially when it comes to dealing with you. 

He realizes he doesn’t mind you crying all that much. 

You go out for drinks to celebrate your successful solo mission and you spend the time you had lost on the field with your teammates - you play billiards with Gaz against Soap and Ghost and lose sorely, and then you try out a peg of whiskey the Captain has ordered and Price laughs heartily as you sputter and whine as the drink burns your esophagus. You somehow convince Ghost to teach you how to throw darts and he tries to not lean into your warmth as he stands behind you, his gloved hand holding your wrist as he positions you and teaches you how to throw the wooden dart you hold between your smooth fingers, and tells you all he knows about making sure that the little thing hits the dartboard without fail. 

Simon can smell your jasmine shampoo and your citrus perfume on you as he uses his hands to correct your posture. He can feel how soft and pliant you are under him, eager to obey and please him, and all he can think about is what it’d be like - being your confidante, being the voice of reason for you when you’re drowning in emotions, being a sturdy shoulder for you to cry on. 

And he knows for a fact that you’d be all that and more in a heartbeat if he allowed you to. 

You lean onto Simon for support, your head lolling onto his shoulder as he quietly guides you to your bedroom. You hum quietly as he carefully makes you lie down on your bed, removing your shoes for you and when you beg him to help you remove the little makeup you had applied for the night (Price blatantly ignoring the use of contraband because it’s you), he surprisingly complies. Years of applying camo paint on his face give him the needed experience around using micellar water and makeup wipes as he helps you prepare yourself for a night of mindless sleeping, which will be followed by a hangover in the morning plaguing almost all of them. (He swears he’ll force you to drink the ginger tea he’ll make, no matter how much you’d whine about it tasting ‘yucky’. He’d rather not have you hurling over everything like a cat with a persistent hairball stuck in its throat).

“I’m so happy”, you hum to yourself as Simon tilts your head up. 

“Close your eyes, Sergeant”, he orders and you comply, feeling the soaked cotton pad rub against your eyelids as your Lieutenant removes your pink eye shadow. It’s a pretty color on you, Simon thinks but he never says it out loud.  

You stay silent as he finishes up with your work, his calloused fingertips tilting and moving your head to look at any missed spots he might’ve overlooked in the dim bedroom light. 

“All done”, he scruffs, getting up on his feet and he hears you call out to him as he leaves the room.

“What is it?” he asks, wishing to be in his warm bed on this cold night. 

“Thank you, sir”, you say earnestly with your eyes shining with sincerity and an unrecognizable emotion. 

Simon observes you - you lying on your bed in the clothes you wore to the bar, with most of your makeup removed and your eyes struggling to stay open as intoxication and tiredness tempt you to forget the world and sleep.

A moment too late, he asks you, “What are you thanking me for, rookie?”

Only to find you out cold.

He sighs, draping the thin blanket over your shivering body and leaving you alone in your room. 

When you wake up the next day with a hangover headache, your makeup removed and your blanket draped over you tenderly, you make your way to the common kitchen and you ask your moody superior if he remembers anything from the night before - your hazy memory failing to cover the gaps in your memory. 

He gruffly says out, “No” and then hands you a cup of ginger tea, looking at you intensely as he waits for you to whine about the bitter taste of the tea he’s made for you. Knowing it’s a lost fight, you let out an exasperated sigh and thank your Lieutenant for the hangover cure. He looks at you a beat too long before leaving you to your own devices, exiting the room, and going God knows where. 

It takes him time, with all that he is and all that he has been through, to come to a new conclusion for his first impression of you. Steadily with time, Simon realizes that the reason you cry so easily is not because you're weak. 

It’s because you’re brave. 

Brave enough to express yourself and not fear rejection from others. Brave enough to show that you care, to show that you love life and people and everything life has to offer. Brave and kind and valiant in everything you do, Simon is almost jealous of your ability to be so open and free. He wonders what it would be like to let go and just allow himself to feel. 

It’d probably drown him alive. 

It might set him free. 

He’d never get the chance to know though. 

Now again, you sob as you put pressure on his abdomen wound as you talk to him with a wet, unstable voice, “Stay awake for me, Lt. We will all make it”. You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself more than him. (You need that reassurance more than him anyway).

He’s sluggish, the blood loss and pain makes it hard for him to focus on your blurry face and the skull mask on his face doesn’t help him either. He’s immobile, despite trying his level best to raise his hand up so that he can wipe away the stray tears on your cheeks. He parts his lips to tell you to please stop crying, to tell you how he’s not worth the worry, he’s not worthy of your tears - not when he has vehemently admonished you for them all this time. 

But all he can do is let out a low moan of pain, his eyes rolling back in his head. He can hear your voice, can hear the worry and fear and panic as you call out to him, but everything is hard and he can hear you but comprehending your words is near impossible with the ringing in his ears and the whirring of the helicopter that came in to rescue him and his team. He’s aware of his teammates sitting beside him - he can imagine their solemn faces as they cope with the possibility of him succumbing to his wounds before they make it back to safety. But he focuses on you instead - sweet, radiant you who worries about everyone and everything; who wears her heart on her sleeve and still holds onto the hope that he will make it out of this ordeal alive, even though he can feel his life slipping away from him like the sands of time.

Each breath of his is labored, and Simon wishes for nothing more than to wipe away your tears or to maybe hold your soft self against his injured body, cradling you close to his heart as he vows to survive this for you. Only for you. 

Through black spots and dryness, he blinks up to look at you and he has this realization, a moment of pure ‘Eureka!’ as he observes your worsened state of being. 

You have never been prettier than this instant, crying over him and praying to any kind of deity who’d grant him the boon of life. 

Satisfied with his discovery and suddenly extremely tired, he allows himself to close his eyes, letting the fatigue win and the last thing he sees is you crying for him to stay alive and fight. 

The last thing he hears is your sobs as you beg someone, anyone to save your Lieutenant. 

Note -

Title is thanks to the song 'Pretty When You Cry' by Lana Del Rey, although I wasn't actually listening to the song while writing this.

#call of duty #cod #cod:mw2 #simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty fluff #call of duty angst #simon ghost riley angst #simon ghost riley fluff #call of duty headcanons #char.simon ghost riley

[bi-writes]

If you have time I am kindly asking for Simon and the teams POV on the arranged marriage fic!! Like why they put that ad out! I also think they’re silly for doing the whole ceremony in their gear 👉👈

the arrangement prequel

it wasn't much of a choice. ghost knew this was coming, knew this might happen--disciplinary action from the increasingly...unorthodox ways he was coming back from an op.

one too many times, a capture or kill became looking for the pieces of their target scattered across the field. an accident on the way back to interrogation--he doesn't know how his blade ended up embedded in their mark's throat. he misfired his gun--it's too bad it went straight through that prisoner's forehead.

disobeying without saying no. taking matters into his own hands without exactly defying the rules. ghost had been walking along the boundary line for a long while, and he knew eventually someone would realize the risks he was taking.

it was kate's idea. ghost needed something to chew on, something to satiate the hunger in his bones. a companionship, is what she tells price, but even he knew that was a stretch. anything given to ghost would surely be shredded apart on impact. anything that belongs to him ends up tucked underneath layers of shadows, not to be seen again.

but ghost is the best at what he does. all kate needs is for him to fucking listen once in a while.

when they ride back in the humvee, ghost is fiddling with the chamber of his pistol when price speaks up.

"got somethin' new," he says, looking into the rearview mirror. the sergeants shuffle a little closer to hear him. "new program between CIA and SAS. pilot program, not...exactly routine. but they'd like one of you lot to be the first to participate."

"what is it?"

price clears his throat, "the legality is a grey area. but both parties need to be willing."

"spit it out, cap'n."

"an arrangement of sorts," he says finally. "it's...not a secret 's hard to keep a bird with the things we do...always away, hard to reach. but you're the best at what you do, and i think if you take it seriously, it could be good for one of ya."

soap snorts. "cap'n, ye wanna play matchmaker with us? see if we're worthy of little bonnie spies?"

price snorts, rolling his eyes, "i need you to set an example, is what i need. i need one of you to step forward."

ghost looks up when he says that. his eyes flicker, and he looks at his captain, who keeps his eyes on the road as he drives. he hears what price doesn't say. this is your punishment, he imagines. and you will take it and not say a word, like the lieutenant that you are.

in the dark of his room later that evening, he opens the file with your name typed across the front. CONFIDENTIAL it reads, and he flips the manila folder to spread your profile out onto the desk.

you're smiling in the first photo. it's a headshot, from high school maybe, from college, a pretty photo of you beaming at a camera with a nice background. he eyes your height, weight, measurements, the skills they've identified and the answers to your questions about why you want to participate in the program.

Q: What kind of partner are you looking for? A: Resistant. Unmovable. Loyal.

Q: Why do you want to participate in this program? A: I'm tired of being disappointed.

Q: What are some of the qualities you possess you would like your partner to know about you? A: I'm not afraid of what I don't know.

short answers, straight to the point. affirmative and honest, with no room for interpretation. ghost doesn't need interpretation; he knows what it is you're saying.

when he looks back at your picture, he brings it closer, narrowing his eyes as he studies you. the smile you wear, while beautiful, isn't real. it's a persona, a ruse, a costume that you wear to put the outside world at ease. you understand that a smile makes you agreeable, but he knows, somehow he knows, that there must be a tick that you feel that no one is able to quiet, an anger and a lilt to the soft voice you must speak in that carries the weight of your defiance and your disappointment with everything the world is that you thought it wouldn't be.

ghost isn't told that the program is a lie. you aren't an operative for the CIA, you aren't some kind of spy in need of company. when he reads the rest of your file, he is amused because he knows the rest is made-up bullshit that doesn't apply to you. you are as civilian as they come, but with how well you lie, he wonders if you should be recruited just for that.

with just a little training, he thinks perhaps you might be everything your country needs and more. a little blood wouldn't scare you.

it's weeks later when ghost eyes the date on his calendar. he has marked it with an X, black marker haphazardly traced there to indicate the day. he told price he doesn't want bells and whistles--no music, no men, no party. an unmarked room and his bride is all that is necessary.

he steps outside to smoke a cigarette. he sucks on it gently, blowing it out to the side, and he eyes the car that pulls onto base carefully. when price steps out of the drivers' seat, ghost stubs out the cigarette and turns the corner. he catches a glimpse of a lace veil before he disappears.

and when he steps into the room hours later, your back to him, he can't help the way his pupils dilate and the way his body goes rigid with rage. there you are, standing there, in white silk and lace, your back to him but the picture of elegance and the presence of something honestly deserving.

it is only when he lifts the veil off of your face and sees those eyes that he understands what you are, what you wear.

a façade, a beautiful mask of your own, to cover up the ugly you hold on the inside.

he smiles under the mask when you kiss him over the fabric. because fuck, yes...he doesn't care where you have come from. he doesn't care that they lied about who you are, that they didn't tell him the truth, that in all honesty, they have given you to die and you don't know it--he doesn't care because it worked, at least for him. the finest flesh he has ever set his eyes on. he cannot wait to brand you for what you are worth.

if they meant to punish him for the crimes he has committed, he is sorry. because you are his reward, and there is no hell to pay.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #dark!simon #simon thoughts

[chipperydoopcg]

Hey Deltarune Fandom

I know its 3am as I wright this but I think I found something online that might be important- or at least, be something to consider- food for thought and all that jazz-

you see, I was scrolling thought reddit when I came upon a particular post...

it starts of seeming very normal, right? I mean, it's just your average detarune fan asking about equipment advice, right?

but.. somethings... off, to say the least......

Not only is the wording weird when talking about Spamton, (with the phrasing of "Spamton dude" being particularly odd, as to get to Spamton's shop, you need to get fairly familiar with him and his character, but this user seems to be acting like this is their first time meeting him.) But Spamton HIMSELF seems to look... Different than usual. Or, at lease, different than his usual shop sprite that is...

and I was not alone on this sentiment, as the comments noticed too!

which leads to wonder....

... yeah, that...

To which OP provided an... Interesting answer....

D-.... Didn't have the money? But, deltarune is free game? Or, at least, Chapter's 1 and 2 are...

you see, a while back, Toby mention online that Chapters 3, 4, and 5 would all be released together, and, unlike the first two, cost money. (or as a certain salesman would phrase it, cost some [[Sweet, Sweet KROMER]]!!!)

Not only that, but its kinda ironic that this user pirated a copy of a free game, and have the one character who has a history with shady links (or in other words, [[Hyperlink Blocked]]) be the one who's changed... Almost as if this bootleg game has its own bootleg of Spamton... The one character who literally tries to be a bootleg of ANOTHER character in-universe. *Cough cough* Swatch- *Cough cough*

But this also leads to question... are there any other differences in the game? I mean, it is a pirated game, surely there has to be some other differences from the original game other than some seemingly random shop sprite of spamton, right?

luckily, I was not the only one who was curious about this and a user by the name of kuro50 ask OP to quote:

To which OP responded:

how... convenient.....

I mean- don't get me wrong- I get that feeling not having any program to record with (though than again OBS Studio exist)- but even still, all of this seems a little bit too, odd to just let off as something "normal"...

but, than again, its not like there's anything necessary wrong about it either, right? I mean, sure, it weird that someone pirated a free game, but, maybe they're just some gullible kid online?

...Except, a user by the name of ThePotatoPerson510 pointed out a few striking things...

And then... it all stared to click...

I went to check the profile and, just as ThePotatoPerson510 had said,

"u/ThatDudeTobias, Cake day December 27, 2022, made 12 hours ago..." the same hour as the spamton post was made... almost as if the account was made just so they could post this.... (Note: the previous image in this post of the spamton post says it was made 10 hours ago. This time gap is because I have been writing this post for 2 hours straight now- coming onto 3 hours- as such, I give you this screenshot showing both the post and the profile, and thus, showing they were in fact made in the same hour-)

MID WRIGHTING UPDATE: It seems as if there WAS a time gap between the two post, as its 5:24am and I just took THIS screenshot showing the time gap. Take this how you will I suppose ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now, about the name... It seem kinda... on the nose, to say the least. I mean, Toby, Tobias, seems a little to similar, right? But, at the same time, knowing Toby, he would be the type to use a seemingly obvious while still not TOO obvious name to fuck with us (he DOSE have a history with being a troll when it comes to his games ¬_¬||)

Also, looking back at the spamton image and comparing it to the name "Tobias", they both share one thing in common... They're both SIMILAR to their originals, to the point where you can tell what they're based off of, but, somewhat off...

As for the one other post on the account, well...

its..

... A comment on MeIRL?

Well, what's the original post?

A..... Video of some guy walking up the stairs, only to keep looping up the same steps, unable to get to the end?

Well, that's... anticlimactic..... Sooo.... Is this just some random account then? Was all of this just for nothing? Was it all red hearings in the end? Well, that's what I thought..

For you see, I realized something....

Toby Fox is a well-known fan of anime, but, not just any anime.... specifically, JOJO'S BIZARRE ADVENTURE. How do we know this? Well, in undertale, there is an item in the game called a Punch Card

When this card is used in battle, it says, "OOOORAAAAA!!! You rip up the punch card! Your hands are burning!" This increases your attack. "ORA" Is a common phrase screamed in JOJO' when one of the Jostar's are attacking.

Not only that, but in deltarune, main antagonist of chapter 2 is Queen.

her battle theme? Attack of the Killer Queen

Killer Queen is the stand of Yoshikage Kira. The main antagonist of JOJO'S BIZARRE ADVENTURE: Diamond is Unbreakable. Which is the 4th Chapter of the series.

So, what dose ALL of this have to do with the video "Tobias" commented on? Well, you see, in JOJO'S BIZARRE ADVENTURE: Stardust Crusaders, when Polnareff, one of the main protagonist, tries to walk up the stairs to face DIO, the main antagonist, he finds himself in the same loop as the man in the video. Continuously walking up the same set of stares, unable to reach the end.

Meaning, the video that "Tobias", or, as we presume, Toby commented on was in fact...

A JOJO REFFERANCE, AND THUS, MAKES PERFICT SENCE AS TO WHY HE WOULD COMMENT ON IT

...... And so with that last tidbit out of the way, we are left with 3 conclusions that we can come to... 1. This "Tobias" is actually Toby Fox teasing us about Chapter 3 and or some other upcoming scheme of his he has up his sleaves.

2. This "Tobias" is actually Toby Fox just fucking with us

and 3. This is some third party not affiliated with Toby but still making something and teasing it (possibly and ARG or something of sorts) .... That or I've just spent over 3 hours of my life typing this up only for it to be a shitpost by Temmie or something :/

either way its 6:41am as I type this and I have not slept all night so I hope you liked this deep dive analysis into this possibly important reddit account that could hold significant lore for the upcoming chapters of deltarune and if you'll excuse me I'm going to go collapse on my couch for the rest of the day :) have a wonderful time zone <3

#toby fox i swear- #if this is you fucking with us i will sue- #for emotional abuse and mind fuckery that is- #seriously why must you be like this- #i just wanted to scroll reddit in peace- #not worrying about secret lore drops from estranged reddit accounts- #god dammit toby #yall better not let this flop- #it is 5am #i have not slept ALL NIGHT #I AM STAYING UP JUST SO I CAN WRIGHT THIS #DO NOT LET THIS FLOP I BEG- #toby fox #deltarune #deltarune thoughts #deltarune theory #deltarune chapter two #deltarune chapter 2 #deltarune spoilers #spamton

[daughter-of-sapph0]

one thing about tumblr that I don't see anyone talk about even with all the discussion about horrible changes is what happens when someone blocks you.

how it used to be is that you could still go to their profile, and would be able to report them or block them back. but you couldn't see any of their posts. and if one of their posts did happen to show up on your dash through reblogs, you couldn't like or reblog it. of course, it wouldn't tell you any of this. it would just give an error message or load indefinitely pretending like something was happening, rather than just saying "hey this person has you blocked, so you can't interact with them"

now it's a lot worse. idk when it was, but some change made it so now you can't even click on their blog at all.

now you might say "what's the big deal? why would anyone even want to go to a blog that had you blocked if you already couldn't see any of their posts in the first place?" and while true, there was at least something you could do on that blank blog. blocking them back and reporting them.

here's how it worked in the past. if someone sent me a rude message or tagged me in a dumb post and then blocked me, I could simply go to their blog (which would be blank for me) and block and report them.

now, if somone does that, I cannot click on their blog. in fact, because I can't block or report them, they can keep sending me horrible things, or even do the same to others without any fear of consequences. in order to actually be free of them, I'd have to go onto the desktop dashboard which a lot of people don't use, go to blog settings, scroll all the way down to blocked accounts, and manually type in their url exactly and add them to my list of blocked accounts.

and also, there is no way to report them. if someone is being racist or antisemitic or homophobic, and they have you blocked, you cannot report them at all.

I'm not going to say that this change was made by the sympathizers on staff specifically to protect terfs and white supremacists who spend all their time harassing and stalking and abusing people online while making it harder for their victims to protect themselves or even make those people face any consequences for their actions at all...

but the fact that this change happened around the same time as the whole "scorched earth / partyjockers" situation where staff entirely disintegrated a post and all it's reblogs because op said that one of the people on staff was a hairy potty fan, it's a bit too suspicious for me to call it a coincidental change.

#dostxt

[jesterwriting]

Hi Jester!! Hope you’re having a good day 💞 I absolutely love your work !! Your writings style and how you write the op boys.. my heart 🫶

If you’re taking requests, is it okay to ask a confession scenario from Law and Sanji, to a reader who’s never been in a relationship before?? They kinda freak out, after hearing the boys like them, only cuz they like them back but don’t wanna mess up?

Wishing you a good day- and thank you!! Stay awesome <3

pairing: sanji x reader & law x reader (separate)

contents: fluff, idiots in love, confessions, humor, nonbinary reader in sanji’s, gender neutral reader in law’s, reader is short in laws, everyone in this is so stupid, did i say idiots in love yet

word count: 2.4k words

note: AWWW HI im so glad you like my stuff hehe. okay so i got WHOLLY carried away with this request. like totally got carried away, though, i had an absolute blast writing this and hope you enjoy it too<33 idiots in love is my absolute favorite trope if you couldn't tell.

playlist: moscow - autoheart

Black Leg Sanji

It wasn’t obvious at first.

Sanji treated you the same as anyone else, always feeding you when you were hungry or offering a pleasant word when you shared the same space together. Sure, he didn’t fawn over you like he did the ladies, and he certainly didn’t treat you as roughly as he did Zoro, but the two of you had your own rapport. Sanji was nice to you, you were nice to him. That was all there was to it. While it was no secret — at least not to the observant eyes of Nami and Robin — that you wanted a little bit more from the flirtatious cook, you were happy with what you got. There was no reason to ruin a good thing with childish feelings, especially not when you were so inexperienced with them.

What you had was fine. It was good even, you supposed.

That was until Sanji started treating you differently.

It happened almost overnight. The camaraderie you shared with him grew into something entirely new. You weren’t sure what to do about it. When you woke up that fateful morning, Sanji seemed distant, though he wouldn’t stop staring at you with the most bewildered expression you had ever seen. Instead of setting a plate down in front of Nami or Robin first, he placed a breakfast platter right under your nose, a rosy blush staining his cheeks. The final nail in the coffin was the shaky compliment you got from him as you left the room.

“You look positively ravishing today, Y/N.”

You froze in place, fingers curled around the doorknob. When you turned, Sanji blinked at you a few times, lips parted as if he wasn’t sure as to what he said. Seconds passed — though it felt more like years — of the two of you staring at one another. Ashes dribbled from Sanji’s cigarette onto the floor. You shuffled your feet. It was completely silent, save for the sound of your heart thundering in your chest.

“Thanks,” You finally said.

With that, you slipped out the door, unable to stand the tension a moment longer. Something squirmed in your chest, and an anxious tang in the back of your throat made you want to throw yourself overboard. It was one compliment, it didn’t mean anything, you told yourself.

You weren’t sure what scared you more. The idea that it meant nothing, or the idea that Sanji might like you the same way you liked him. Either way, you couldn’t stop trembling. You hoped that whatever this was would work itself out on its own without your intervention.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

In fact, it got worse.

Sanji hovered around you more often, going from occasionally asking if you needed anything from him, to asking every twenty minutes. While he didn’t stop doting on Nami and Robin, he found himself too preoccupied with watching you to remember to refill their drinks on time.

Worst of all, Sanji wouldn’t stop complimenting you. They were far clumsier than the usually smooth flirtations that rolled off his tongue, but they were more than enough to get under your skin and into your heart. You didn’t miss that unmistakable glitter of pride in his blue eyes whenever you blushed under his flattery.

What you wouldn’t give for everything to go back to normal. When you realized you harbored a little crush on Sanji, you never expected it to be reciprocated. Now that it was, you weren’t sure what to do. You had never been in a relationship before, and with your luck, you’d end up screwing everything up.

You flushed when you felt his eyes on you, trailing from the top of your head to your feet. Gentle footfalls approached you, and you braced for an inevitably awkward interaction that you would replay in your head for hours after it was done.

“Hello, my sweet—” Over the past few days, Sanji had gotten more confident with the pet names, much to your chagrin — “Care for a refill.”

“If you can make it alcoholic,” You replied, staring pointedly at the ocean. If you looked at his ridiculously handsome face right now, you’d crumble to dust.

“Anything for someone as lovely as you.” You could practically hear his dumb smile on his dumb lips that you wanted to kiss stupid. Frowning, you fidgeted with your fingers.

You heard Sanji tip the pitcher as ice clinked together, filling your glass. The smell of sea salt filled your nostrils. There were words bubbling in your chest and up your throat, threatening to spew forth and coat the deck with bile. You bit your lip to keep that from happening.

“For you.” Sanji handed you the glass, and his fingers brushed against your own. They were warm, the skin was soft and well maintained. As always, you wondered what they’d feel like cupping your face, Sanji’s lips against your own.

You couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“Do you have a crush on me or something?”

Sanji’s mouth fell open. Before he could speak, you bulldozed right over him. “It’s okay if you do, I don’t really care, I’m just curious. I mean, maybe I would care because I’ve had a bit of a crush on you since forever. But that’s stupid. I’m stupid. I need to stop talking right now. Why can’t I stop talking?”

“You’re not stupid,” Was the first thing that Sanji said, surprisingly stern for how red he was. Followed by an almost incredulous, “You like me?”

“That’s what I should be saying” You cried. “You’re not supposed to like me back. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

He stared at you for a moment before reaching to remove his cigarette from his mouth and dangle it between two fingers. “You’re in love with me?”

“Well, that’s a really serious way to put it, but yeah. Sure. Whatever. I’m in love with you. There! I said it.” You let out a manic cackle. Your face felt so hot, like you were about to burst into flames any second. “I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Sanji grabbed you by the shoulders, his expression serious. “I don’t know what I’m doing either. We can figure it out together. If you’ll have me, of course.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug. “Okay. Together then.”

“Together, my sweet.” He said, so suave as if steam wasn’t coming off of him from how hard he was blushing.

Not that you were much better.

Trafalgar Law

You hadn’t meant to overhear. Really, you didn’t. You were passing by the engine room, arms full of supplies you were supposed to deliver to the team, when you overheard your name. Maybe it was nosy of you to start eavesdropping, but anyone would if they were in your position. Once you heard Shachi and Penguin say your name, you stuck around to see what gossip had been floating around on the Polar Tang about you. It was a fact of life, one you refused to be held accountable for.

What you didn’t expect was to find out the captain had a crush. That in of itself sounded wholly ridiculous, and at first, nearly tore your heart in half. You had been harboring feelings for Law for a long time now, none of which you were confident enough to act on. Part of the reason you never confessed was because you had hoped he was too damned awkward to have a crush on anyone else in the first place. The other part was because you were inexperienced. Love was not something that came easy to you. It was messy, rough, and altogether stressful, none of which you wanted to deal with.

What really got you though, was the fact that out of everyone in the entire world, the infamous captain of the Heart Pirates had feelings for you.

You really, really hadn’t meant to overhear.

With your heart beating out of your chest, you shuffled past the engine room and delivered your supplies, wishing you were anywhere but here. This was bad. Law had been avoiding you for weeks, and now, you knew why. At first, you worried you had gotten on his nerves enough that he was finally sick of you. You enjoyed talking to him, even discounting your little crush. Whenever Law had a free moment, you found yourself by his side, chattering away over whatever had caught your fancy. He was a good listener, chiming in with a smirk every so often to show that he was paying attention. Recently, however, Law had started to dip into adjourning halls when he saw you coming, or take his meals in his office rather than sit with you in the mess.

It would almost be easier if he hated you. Then you wouldn’t be sweating profusely in your boiler suit, scared that Law would show up around every turn. How could you look him in the eye knowing that your feelings for him were reciprocated? All you knew is you were thankful he was avoiding you. It made staying as far away from him as possible much, much easier.

You were confident you were doing a good job getting your tasks done without running into the captain until you, quite literally, ran into him. The top of your head knocked directly into his chin, sending you sprawling on the floor and making Law frown. A frown that deepened when he saw you.

Still, he helped you to your feet.

“Watch where you’re going, Y/N-ya.”

“Right, sorry. Bye,” You said, skirting past him.

Law didn’t let you get far before his hand shot out to grab your wrist. His brows were furrowed, and you tried not to think about the glimmer of disappointment in his eyes. “That’s it?”

“What?”

“You’re usually always talking,” He said.

You removed your arm from Law’s grasp. He let go easily, thank goodness, you were fully prepared to wrestle him to get out of this conversation if you needed to. “I just don’t feel very chatty right now. Bye.”

With that, you turned on your heel and marched down the hall. It was quiet for a moment, only the sound of your footsteps resounding against the walls of the Polar Tang. It wasn't until a second, much heavier pair joined you did you start to pick up the pace. To which Law responded to by matching your speed, easily gaining on you. His strides were longer than yours. Two of your steps equaled one of his. At this rate, it would only be a matter of time before he caught you, and then where would you be?

So you started running.

Law faltered for a second before he joined, boots like thunder against the floor. Instinctively, you ducked around the first corner, hoping to lose him, before your stomach flipped and you, once again, ran directly into your captain.

That asshole. He shambles’ed you.

“Why were you running from me?” If he was hurt, he hid it well through an entirely unamused mask. You swallowed hard, shuffling your feet slightly under his gaze.

“I had the runs.”

Law gave you an unimpressed look. “No you didn’t. Now tell the truth. Why did you run from me?”

“Uh.”

You were really in it now. If the universe had any amount of love for you, there would be an emergency happening in about five seconds from now that would demand Law’s attention. But, of course, nothing happened. You were trapped.

“Uh,” Law repeated, his usual smirk worming its way onto his face. It wasn’t until then that you realized just how close to him you were, nose mere inches away from his chest. Your cheeks blazed.

Taking a couple steps back, you fidgeted with your fingers. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is my business when one of my crewmates runs from me,” Law countered.

He had you there. You weren’t sure how to get out of this, or even if you could get out of this. This was it. D-Day. Your tongue felt too big for your mouth, the pink muscle flailing uselessly. It was hard to breathe as your heart pounded furiously enough to make you feel lightheaded. Finally, after a full minute of silence, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Ireallydidn’tmeantobutIoverheardShachiandPenguinsayyouhadacrushonme.”

As he processed your words, all of Law’s confidence leaked away, the tips of his ears turning bright pink, confirming what you already knew. His pupils darted to your face in search of something.

“What did you think?” Law licked his dry lips and tried again. “What did you think when you heard that?”

“I don’t know because I’ve had the biggest crush on you since we met!” There. You said it. That wasn’t so bad. “I didn’t know what to do, so I was avoiding you.”

Tugging on the brim of his hat to cover his face, Law asked, “So what do you want to do now?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I don’t know! I’ve never been in a relationship before, how am I supposed to know these things?”

“I haven’t either,” He confessed.

You let your forehead knock against his chest. A chuckle rumbled against you as Law brought his hand up to cup the back of your head. His touch was delicate, barely there at all. You couldn’t help but lean into him. “That doesn’t help at all.”

“Get some dinner,” He said. “We can eat in my office together and talk about it more then. No more running.”

“Says the guy who avoided me for three weeks.”

Law only let out a huff while you laughed.

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #trafalgar law x reader #sanji x you #trafalgar law x you #sanji x yn #trafalgar law x yn #one piece imagines #one piece scenarios #.jesterwrites

[peachesyeo]

8/9... 8/8 - ATEEZ OT8 part one

THIS IMAGINE IS MATURE! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

⊹ 2k words ⊹ friends!ateez x fem!reader (ft. straykids) ᭡ angst, mature.

✧ a/n: hi. erm. yeah. i guess. in a rainy and depressive mood these days, but i'll be fine. might take a while to update, please be understanding. thank you.

thank you @sousydive for beta reading.

⊂ content: shitty ateez (esp jongho & wooyoung) warning. name-calling, slapping, crying, stray kids being absolute angels. friendship problems, both sides are in the wrong. strong language. please don't hate jongho i love my baby bear pls, a little self-harming.

✦ network: @newworldnet

:̗̀➛ 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭? :̗̀➛ 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞? :̗̀➛ 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭? (for all works)

You sat on your bed, staring at your phone. 

Zero notifications. 

No calls, no texts. No one asked for you. 

Your fingers swiped open the group chat. The last message was sent by you, asking if anyone wanted to grab lunch together. 

Nine members, eight reads, zero replies. 

You put your phone down, thinking about your recent behaviour. Have you done anything wrong? Did you accidentally offend them? Or perhaps, say the wrong thing?

You sighed, throwing your phone to the side and looking at the frame photo by your bed. You and the boys were huddled together, laughing at the camera. It was San’s birthday, and all of you had come up with a surprise party. The nine of you, all together, celebrating, smiling.

When was the last time you hung out with them?

Was it… three months ago? Four?

“They’re probably busy, Y/n…” You muttered to yourself, blinking rapidly so the sudden tears that gathered in your eyes wouldn’t fall. You sniffed, shaking your head. “Stop over thinking, Y/n.” You looked at your reflection in the mirror, your fingers curling into a fist. “You’re fine. Stop behaving so childishly.”

You let yourself fall onto the pillows, staring up at the ceiling above you. Every single time you send a message to them, they would reply dryly. 

Maybe they’re sick of you, Y/n. 

You closed your eyes, wrapping yourself up in a foetal position. 

Everything will be fine. 

You know something is wrong, Y/n.

No, everything is fine. Nothing is wrong. 

Stop lying to yourself. 

I’m not lying to myself. 

Are you?

“I’m not.” You whispered, your voice shaky and unconfident. Tears gathered up at your eyes as you tried to get yourself to sleep.

You woke up with a gasp, breathing heavily as you bent over to the side of the bed, retching dryly. You were covered in cold sweat, shaking as you recovered your breathing. 

The annoyed expression on your friends faces seemed so real, to the point that you cannot differentiate between your dream and reality. You raised your knees to your chest, hugging them as you tried to calm yourself down.

It’s not real it’s not real it’s not real

“A nightmare. It’s a nightmare.” You told yourself, covering your face with your hands. “Y/n, stop it. Stop overthinking, you idiot.”

You reached for your phone, tapping on Seonghwa’s chat.

You: Oppa, are you busy? | You: Oppa, are y| You: Oppa, a| You: Oppa, I had a nightmare.| You: Oppa, I ha| You: Oppa,|

You stared at the screen, your fingers pausing in mid air. 

You: Oppa| You: Op| You: |

You scrolled upwards, reading your previous chats. It was mostly you talking about your problems, and Seonghwa advising you on what to do. You swallowed your saliva, reading his replies, which were getting drier and drier as you scrolled down.

Hwa Oppa: Y/n-ah, sorry, I’m busy. Hwa Oppa: Ok. Hwa Oppa: Ttyl. Hwa Oppa: Mhm.  Hwa Oppa: K. Hwa Oppa: Can you text me later? Hwa Oppa: Kinda busy now.

You tapped on his profile. Online 3 hours ago. The time now is 2am.

A sense of helplessness swallowed you as you let the phone drop onto your bed. You looked outside of the window, letting out another sigh.

You can't sleep anymore.

Maybe you should try one more time?

Y/n: Oppa, can we talk?

Seonghwa frowned at the notification. In front of him, Mingi was hollering with the mic, along with San, who was shrieking at the top of his voice, abusing poor Yunho's ears, who was sitting nearest to the speaker.

"Who is that?" Jongho asked, peering at the screen over his shoulder. "Oh." He looked away uninterestedly, taking a mouthful of his alcohol.

"Y/n?" Wooyoung grabbed Seonghwa's phone, scowling. "Does she want to complain about her boring work problems again? I have enough of listening to her shit-"

"Wooyoung. Stop it." Hongjoong warned. The latter rolled his eyes, giving Seonghwa his phone back before going over to San to snatch his microphone. As they scuffle over it, Yeosang sighed, frowning.

"I still don't think it's a good idea leaving her out and ignoring her like that, hyung." He watched the two fight while Mingi continued to sing his heart out. "We should sit down at talk it out-"

"Listen, I've tried. But every single time she would talk about her stupid work problems, I just needed a break from her, okay?" Seonghwa shot back, irritated. Yeosang put his hands up in defeat, shutting up. Seonghwa turned his phone off, shaking his head. “I’ll just… text her later.”

Jongho snorted, turning his attention back to the singing trio. Yeosang bit his lip nervously, but Hongjoong clapped his back. “Hey, just chill. Y/n would be fine without us anyway, she has so many friends.” He stuffed a glass of beer into Yeosang’s empty hands. “Here, take a drink and just forget about her, okay? It's been some time since all eight of us can come out together.”

Yeosang’s fingers grip the glass nervously. Yunho, who had crawled over to their seat to get away from the speaker, saw his hesitancy and rolled his eyes. “Hyung is right, Yeosang-ah. Y/n wouldn’t die without us. We should have our Boys Night anyways. Just drink.” He pushed the glass to Yeosang’s lips, the younger finally taking a sip reluctantly. 

“Yeah.” He watched Jongho, who had joined in with the three at the front. “You’re right.”

It's not much of a problem.

Right?

Your phone buzzed. Your eyes lit up, grabbing it and scanning at it.

Felix (Baking Class): Hey, this is Y/n right?

You slumped in disappointment, but soon it turned to confusion. What's Felix texting you at 2am for?

Felix Lee, a sweet Australian you've met through your baking class. You have enjoyed talking to him, the both of you exchanging tales of your baking mishaps. None of the boys, not even Wooyoung, likes to bake. So only Felix understood your problems with baking.

You: Hey Felix. You: What can I do for you?

Felix (Baking Class): I don't think I'm supposed to tell you this but Felix (Baking Class): You're friends with Hongjoong hyung right?

You: Yeah Felix (Baking Class): Erm, so my friends and I were at the nuraebang Felix (Baking Class): Changbin hyung was recording er, Jeonginnie just now

Felix (Baking Class): It's not like we're eavesdropping or anything, but erm I think you should, listen to this

Felix (Baking Class): *video.mp4*

Something is wrong.

Yeosang forced a laugh as he sipped on his coffee. They were in San's house, eating breakfast. Wooyoung busied himself over the stove, while Hongjoong was muttering to himself, his hands furiously typing away on his laptop. Mingi continued to talk after getting a reaction from Yeosang, but the man's attention had drifted elsewhere.

"...and then that's it. My manager just let me off." Mingi smirked proudly, earning a thumbsup from Yunho and San. Seonghwa rolled his eyes. "You were lucky this time, Mingi-ah. Yeosang, eggs?"

Yeosang gave him a small shake of his head. "No thank you. Hyung, did you text Y/n?"

The kitchen went silent at the name. Even Hongjoong looked up from his screen. "Y/n?"

"Yeah. She erm, hasn't contacted us in a week?" Yeosang reminded, shaking his phone in their face. "She usually texts us in the morning in the groupchat-"

"C'mon Yeo, that's a good thing." Wooyoung came out of the kitchen, untying his apron and frowning at Yeosang. "Don't spoil the mood early in the morning."

"Maybe she's busy, Yeo." Yunho suggested, wolfing down his pancake. "She did say that her boss sent her for some field checks. And don't be so mean, Woo."

Wooyoung pouted. "I'm just annoyed at her. And why isn't Jongho back?"

Jongho felt guilty.

He sipped on his cup of americano nervously, glancing at you. You sat with your gaze lowered, fixated on your own cup, your eyes cast downward.

He had bumped into you at the supermarket while getting syrup for Wooyoung. He didn't know why, but when he saw you, he had this sudden desire to run away.

Like a little boy after making a mistake.

"Erm, Y/n, how are you?" He decided, speaking carefully. You looked up from your cup at him, before tugging the corner of your lips upwards.

"Jongho-ah. Please, be honest with me." You pressed the nail of your thumb into your skin, the piercing pain kept your tears in. “Do I… really annoy you guys? When I’m telling… No, when I'm complaining about…” You bit your lower lip, suddenly feeling pathetic. Then you breathed in, before speaking again. “You know what, nevermind. I heard that you guys needed a break from me- Don’t need to explain, I heard it for myself.” You stopped Jongho as he opened his mouth to explain. “I totally understand that. But I’m just here to tell you that leaving me out is not cool. We’re adults, Jongho-ah. You and the boys should have just told me.”

“W-we’re just afraid that you’ll be upset-” “So you guys started leaving me out? Ignoring my texts? Talking behind my back?” You pressed your thumb harder into your skin, angry tears welling up in your eyes. “Like a teenager in highschool? Choi Jongho, you know that’s not… that’s not…” You glared at him, your brain searching for the right word. 

“Not how you should behave as a friend.” Someone placed their hand behind your back, patting them. The both of you looked up to see Felix, who was holding up a cup of coffee. Behind him, Bang Chan and Jisung waved at you. You blinked quickly, forcing the tears to go back in and waved back at them, before turning your attention to him. “Lixie? What are you doing here?”

“Breakfast with my hyung and Han Jisung.” He jabbed his thumb back at the two of them. Felix then turned to Jongho, offering him a simple smile that did not reach his eyes. “Hi, I’m Felix. I heard a lot from Y/nnie about you.” He introduced himself, his hand never leaving your back. Jongho frowned, glancing from his hand and back to his face. 

“I’m Jongho.” His voice was unwelcoming. Your brows furrowed. “Jongho, that was ru-” “It’s okay. Sorry if I interrupted you guys, but hyung’s asking whether you wanna join us later for lunch. Minho hyung cooked the dish you said you’d like to try.”

Your eyes lit up at his words. “Really?” You exclaimed. Jongho observed your exchange with a stoic expression on his face. Felix nodded. “Yeah, I’ll call you later?”

You nodded. Felix patted your hair, gave a friendly nod to Jongho and returned back to his hyungs. As soon as he left, Jongho sneered. “So, you’ve been hanging out with those kind of people?” 

Your smile froze. “What did you say?” 

Jongho shook his head mockingly. “Them, Y/n L/n. Hanging out with Felix Lee and his stupid little gang?” He hissed. “What did they offer you? Money? Are you fucking with them?” 

You stared at him in disbelievement. “What? Did I say something wrong?” Jongho scoffed, sending a glare over to Felix. “You know they are rivals with Seonghwa hyung, right? They play around, Y/n. Are you being a whore for them-”

A loud, resounding slap echoed through the cafe, capturing the attention of everyone dining inside. Jongho touched his burning left cheek, slowly turning to face you. You were standing up, your chest heaving in anger and humiliation at Jongho’s words. Regret instantly flooded his eyes, as Jongho realized what he had said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Say that I’m a slut? For hanging out with a group of men?” You finished the sentence for him, your voice filled with anger and sadness. “Choi Jongho, you’re an asshole. Fuck you. You all are assholes!” You cursed as you grabbed your bag and headed out towards the exit. 

As you ran out, Jongho saw Felix and his friends hurried to follow you too. When his eyes met Felix’s, the latter smirked at him, and Jongho gritted his teeth. 

He fucked up.

➳ permanent taglist: @sousydive @oddracha @yeodeulz @jaerisdiction

#ateez x reader #ateez ot8 #ateez angst #ateez #☁️by k #ateez oneshot #newworldnet #stray kids #stray kids x reader

[lyriumcoloredskies]

Overdrive ft. (Law, Sanji, Zoro, Kid, Nami)

Pairing: Multi-character pairings ft. Law x Reader, Sanji x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Kid x Reader, Nami x Reader WC: 1.2k Summary: Things that drive the OP characters wild. CW: 18+ MDNI Suggestive but no smut, teasing, mild not very descriptive violence in Kid's, food and eating mention in Sanji's, swearing, reader is described with breasts, no beta. AN: I've gotten way sicker and I feel like a small sickly victorian child, hoping that the country air will help my ailment. D:

Trafalgar D. Water Law

"Let me whisper in your ear, tell you something you might like to hear"

It’s been hours since Law decided to hole up in his office, sinking all his attention into a thick medical textbook. He’s halfway through a page when he feels a pair of soft warm lips press onto his neck. Instantly he feels his body erupt into gooseflesh.

His breath catches in his throat when he feels your warm hands make their way across his sides, lifting his shirt, before caressing his bare chest. Your lips work their way up his neck, stamping his skin with searing hot kisses, the slight smacking noise sending tingles down the base of his spine. As you grow closer to his ear, Law can hear your soft breathing, the sound going straight to his groin. Law stifles a moan that threatens to escape his lips as your feverish tongue makes contact with his ear lobe, slowly trailing its way up the shell of his ear. The obscene wet noises near his ear sends static through his brain, down his spine, and straight to his cock which continues to grow hard at your teasing.  “How about you take a break?” you whisper before pinching his left nipple with one of your roaming hands, the other finding its way down his happy trail. Law quickly realizes he has no choice but to oblige.

Vinsmoke Sanji

"With the taste of a poison paradise, I'm addicted to you"

For the last few weeks, dinner has proven to be a difficult time for Sanji. It isn’t because he’s hit a creative slump with recipes or because he has to fight off a hungry Luffy from sneaking snacks. His troubles all stem from a certain other crew member – you. Sanji’s grip on his cutlery tightens as you let out a practically pornographic moan the moment a bite of his Poulet a la Provencal hits your tongue. You let out a few more obscene noises as you chew. Sanji swears the room is spinning. “Sanji~ this tastes divine, the chicken is so moist! And this sauce is just orgasmic~” you sigh out before dipping your finger in said sauce. Sanji nearly drops his fork as he watches your pink tongue dart out to lick off some of the sauce from the digit before you suckle it clean. Sanji thickly swallows at the sight, “A-ah thank you for the compliment y/n-swan!”. You let out a giggle before returning your attention back to your plate. Sanji is suddenly aware of how hot the room is and how tight his pants feel. Sanji tries to compose himself, taking a few deep breaths before returning to his own plate in front of him. He gets a few bites in before he nearly chokes on a piece of chicken when he feels a roaming foot caressing his inner thigh, he looks up only to catch your seductive gaze, a teasing smile plastered on your lips. Dinner would be another torturous affair.

Roronoa Zoro

"Girl you look so good, won't you back that ass up?"

Zoro loses count of his reps for the third time this workout. It’s been this way for the last few months. He would start his workouts with the full intent of giving everything he had, only for his eyes to wander, watching as the sweat traces a path down your body. Today was no different. His eyes graze over the curves of your butt as you work on your squats in front of him. Your muscles shake in effort as you let out several loud breaths. The entire thing turns Zoro on, his grey sweatpants no longer doing a good job at hiding his erection. He watches for a few more moments, carefully palming his length over his sweatpants. That’s when he sees you stutter a little bit in your last set. His body moves instinctively, stepping closer to you, your body only a few inches from pressing into his as he hovers his arms near the barbell bar. “Here, let me spot you” Zoro grumbles out. You give him a nod, adjusting your stance and grip. Zoro dutifully watches as you go in for another squat, only for your tight ass to brush Zoro’s erection as you went down and came back up. The pressure causes a filthy moan to rip out of Zoro’s mouth. In his embarrassment he can see you look back at him, a knowing smirk on your face. He had fallen right into your trap.

Eustass Kid

"She's hatin' 'cause I'm up and you can tell on her face"

Kid sits sprawled out in a booth with Killer on his right. His crew sits around him, everyone occupying nearby tables with a plethora of drinks flowing between them. He’s only half paying attention to Killer before their conversation is interrupted by a woman sliding up on his left side. He doesn’t bother to pay her any attention as she presses her hand to his chest and whispers in his ear asking if he would like some company. He waits patiently, secretly growing excited for what was to come. That’s when he hears you slam two mugs of beer on the table, liquid sloshing out everywhere. You were back from your run to the bartender. “Get the fuck off of my man you fucking whore!” you snarl out as you reach for the woman, grabbing her by the hair as you rip her off of Kid. There it was. Kid feels the first rush of blood to his cock as the atmosphere becomes fueled by adrenaline. The woman screams obscenities at you, flailing helplessly, while the crew eggs you on by yelling out vulgar encouragement. The whole scene turns him on, and he soon finds himself rock hard as he watches you throw the woman out the bar door. Your face is thunderous as you stomp back, gnashing out the crudest angry words at the woman’s gall. You don’t skip a beat as you down whatever was left in both the beer mugs before sliding into your rightful spot next to him, smashing your lips into his in a forceful hungry kiss. Fuck, Kid loved when you got possessive.

Nami

"I'm the First Lady of Juicy Couture, got a little cash now so the skirt is Dior"

Nami’s smile hasn’t left her face since she ushered you into the women’s dormitory, her arms overflowing with her latest clothing haul. “Y/n-chan~ you have to try these on! I picked them out just for you!” she says, pushing the bags into your arms. She relishes in the way heat takes over your cheeks as your eyes widen at the amount of shopping bags, clearly flattered at Nami's generous gesture. Despite your bashful look, you don’t say no to Nami’s demands, quickly stepping behind the changing screen in the corner of the room. Nami’s eyes trace over your shadowed figure behind the screen as you peel off every bit of your clothing, heat rushes to her core. “N-Nami? A-are you sure you handed me the right bag?” you ask, your voice full of anxiety. Nami is patient, flooding you with words of encouragement. She’s rewarded when you step out from the screen. Your body barely covered by the most vulgar bikini money could buy. Nami’s eyes greedily soak up the sight of your breasts, spilling out over the small triangle top, your hard nipples barely covered. You’re so cute as you fidget in the bikini, your face red in embarrassment. “D-does it look g-good Nami?” “Hmm it looks okay, but I bet it looks better on the floor.” One outfit down, 26 more to go.

#fanfic #one piece #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #eustass kid #kid x reader #nami #nami x reader

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Together we fill gaps

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

Warning: Angst, Drinking

AN: You've all been treating me so much with your feedback with this series and I'm so happy to get another part out for you guys! Hope you enjoy 💕 Also, as it's come up a couple times, if you read this series and want to make something inspired by it then PLEASE go ahead, I'll be excited to see what you guys make!

Part 4 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

You waited outside the dark double doors of the meeting room like a sinner before confession, hands wringing at your sides and eyes full and wide, ready to plead for mercy. You’d even managed to bite your tongue a couple times because you were trying so hard not to look like you’d done something wrong; mind practically melting with the cold hard fact that you had. 

Even after being told to stay away from König in the heat of an ongoing operation, after being told exactly who he is on numerous occasions in fact, you’d still gone against their word and your better judgement. You’d kissed him.

You felt like a walking TV disaster, the kind of person in the movie that you watch and you yell ‘why the hell would you do that?’ to the screen while they throw their lives away on bad decisions. And now you were being called into some meeting that Price had arranged - without telling you its purpose - you could almost hear the Jaws theme flaring behind your ears. It made your mouth dry up. 

You were your own worst enemy, trapped in your mind as the rickety scaffolding collapsed around you. You’d clawed onto thoughts of how the meeting was going to go while losing yourself to the memory of König’s possessive grip around your waist and the phantom feeling of tingles swelling on your lips. 

You were going to end up buried in the fallout and there’d be no one to blame but yourself. 

“You’re early,” Price rumbled behind you.

You snapped your head around to the sound of his voice and pursed your lips, already feeling a cold flash race down your spine. You’d been more excited to rush into firefights than you were to go into that meeting, and that went double when you noticed Ghost following behind the Captain.

“Figured it’d help,” you said breathlessly, hoping he’d recognise your good intentions. 

Price grunted and Ghost said nothing. They brushed past you and walked into the depths of the meeting room, turning on the light as if they were about to start an investigator routine. You doubted either of them would play the good cop, that much was obvious. However you did wonder what they knew, what they’d found out since you’d come back from the mission.

Did either of them know about the kiss? 

You sighed and walked forward, feeling impossibly heavy and gut wrenchingly anxious. Every step was another closer to your telling off - something you rarely had to face up to. And before too long you were standing over a seat they’d pulled out for you and begrudgingly lowered yourself into it, facing the steely eyed men situated across from you. 

It didn’t help that the chair felt like a torture device. Hard pieces of ripped leather dug into your skin from the back and the lumpy cushion had you shifting in place, making you look even guiltier. Just great, as if you needed to look any worse in front of them. 

“So,” Price began, leaning forward over his chair, “Ghost filled me in on the op yesterday - in private.”

He’d neglected to take his seat, opting instead to lean over it like he might lunge at you at any given time. His eyes were harsh, swirling with the warning of an oncoming storm. 

You swallowed a hard lump in your throat - trying not to think about the way it felt like ingesting a bowling ball. It sounded almost as loud, the room was deadly silent save for the stuttering clock on the wall and the sound of your collective breathing. You’d sat down in a horror set of your own creation. 

“I’m sure you know why that was,” Ghost said, staring across at you with an almost piteous look.

His eyes were stony behind his skull mask, shadowed and layered thickly with a seriousness you’d never known before, not even during your work with him. He wasn’t ready to pounce on you like Price, but he certainly wasn’t going to save you from him either.

“Because I went against your orders,” you murmured.

“Speak up,” Price growled, going as far as to use your real name.

Well that wasn’t good.

“I went against your orders,” you said again, voice clear and unwavering. 

Even despite the looney tunes levels of fear you felt, you knew not to disobey the Captain when he shouted at you like that. You spoke like you were on stage, addressing the nation. 

“You did,” Ghost confirmed, straightening up. “Can you tell us what your orders were?”

You bit your lip, wrangling it between your teeth like tasting blood might dose you up in some way. The skin felt fit to burst like a honeydew, already worn from the night before’s activities. Perhaps the physical pain would distract you from the way Price and Ghost were looking at you as if they were ready to string you up like a war criminal, distract you from thinking about König even while they did so. 

“My orders were to wait downstairs with Gaz and Soap and keep watch for any stragglers,” you finally said, recalling the exact words he’d barked at you before you were tossed downstairs to the corpse pile. 

“And what did you do?”

“I…I lost it when I realised what was going on upstairs and I- I disobeyed the order and tried to go into the room we’d located the hostage.”

“And why was that?” Price asked this time, his eyes boring into yours.

“I- I don’t know,” you faltered, digging your nails hard into your palms.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” He sneered.

“I- I-...Captain, I don’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t like what we were doing, what we were enabling, and I acted before I thought. I-”

“Acted before you thought,” Price interrupted, coming around from his chair and advancing toward you. “You act before you think again and next time it’s not Ghost reprimanding you, next time you could end up with a bullet in the head, or who knows? Maybe you walk out onto a landmine because you wanted to skip off and smell the fucking roses!”

You breathed in and backed up in your chair, leather carving into your back as you did so, heartbeat wrenching upwards into an absurd chorus. You could barely focus on Price as he walked toward you and snarled like a wounded animal, ready to take you down himself before let any stray bullet pierce you.

“It won’t happen again, Captain,” you quavered, trying to hold onto what little of your strength you could. “It was stupid and reckless. It’s not the kind of person I am, and I- I let myself down. I don’t ever want to do that again.”

“You’re damn right you let yourself down,” Price muttered. “Let yourself down all in the name of some crush you have as well, because don’t think that i don’t know exactly why you wanted into that room - exactly who you were trying to get at! I trusted that after our little talk you’d be able to keep a safe distance from König and keep things professional, but clearly I overestimated you…So, because of your actions, and in the interest of getting the 141 back alive and safe in future without worrying about what you might unthinkingly do, you’re not to speak to him again, do I make myself clear?”

Every fibre in your being wanted to scream and lash out. You wanted to stand up and face Price and tell him he couldn’t order you to do that, that König wasn’t on the team so he couldn’t stop you from seeing him. Though, you knew if you did it was a one way ticket to getting booted back home and god knows if it would be a permanent trip or just a stint to sort you out. 

You stamped out the thought of disagreeing immediately, and you nodded, feeling as if your head were on an automated hinge. Self preservation had kicked in at last and for a few minutes your head was clear from hazy starry thoughts and focused solely on your career, on the hard work you’d done to achieve your position. You couldn’t throw it all away. 

“Yes, Captain. You’re clear.”

You didn’t stutter or stumble, you looked him in the eye and hardened your jaw. A small smile seemed to cross his lips at last. It didn’t remain there for long, but he looked less like he was ready to strangle you till you were cold and blue, and that at the very least was something. 

“Good,” he said simply, drawing back from your chair and heading toward the heavy doorway. “Don’t ever disappoint me like this again.”

He disappeared from the room, trailing out like the smoke cloud that usually lingered with him, and left you without another word. You’d mistakenly thought you were alone for a second, feeling the tension drain out from the door and released a breath, planting your face into your palms. 

You weren’t alone though, Ghost was still there, perched over the chair that he dwarfed like a statue. It was normally a comical sight, but you weren’t ready to see the funny side of anything at that point. You weren’t ready to see much at all as you silently hoped the darkness would swallow you, remaining hunched into your hands.

“He was really worried when I told him,” Ghost finally said, huffing a little as he thought back, “He couldn’t believe you of all people went against an order - especially on an operation like this, when we had to keep ourselves clean. He didn’t like the thought of you on another mission with könig and getting yourself hurt chasing after the cunt either.” 

You stiffened when you heard him speak and slowly lowered your hands, chancing a look up at him. He didn’t look nearly as menacing as Price had, he looked contemplative. His eyes glanced up at the ceiling and his thick arms were wrapped around each other, he leaned back in his chair a little as he continued to think deeply. 

“I got that,” you snorted, biting your lip. “Is it time for you to give me a bollocking now too?”

He chuckled and shook his head. It was a welcome sound, rough and rich like velvet.

“I told you off already, remember? Besides, I don’t think I could top that.”

“Then what are you still doing hanging round? You making sure I don’t run to witness protection?”

Ghost shook his head again and stood up, sighing as he walked toward you. He stopped just short of your chair and raised his hand, letting it awkwardly hang in the air a second. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were going to be ok,” he said, resting his big mitt on your shoulder. “And…I wanted you to know that we’re off to the pub later. The guys were asking after you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Price isn’t going, Sneaky. You’ll only be stuck with us,” he assured.

“And if I say I want to sit and feel sorry for myself for a little while?”

“I’d say that you’re not locking yourself up in your room like a little princess, sweetheart. You can either come with us or I can find something for you to do around the base. Your choice,” he said, the glint of a smile appearing in his eyes.

He wasn’t giving you much of a choice at all. 

-💀-

“Sneaky! Over here.”

You cast your eyes over the crowded pub, straining to hear over the low din of everyone's voices, and looked for the source of the callout, finally finding Soaps waving arms amongst the masses. It was a busy night, but still they’d managed to find a free booth somewhere off in the corner. You had no doubt there’d be a drink there waiting there for you too. 

Given the pub was one of the few closest to the base, it was pleasant enough to pass your time in. It was a little dim, the faint yellow lights not enough to combat the low ceilings and lack of windows, but it was cosy. The old wooden bar top and well worn blue floors felt homey in that familiar sort of way and you liked that it always smelt like hops and aged varnish. It was a proper old man pub, but nevertheless served as a tradition.

“Thought you were going to bail on us,” Ghost said, watching as you finally drew up to the table.

“And miss out on all the action?” You laughed dryly, tilting your head at the three men who sat comfortably against the sagging cushioned seats. “Never.”

“You tryin to say we’re no fun?” Soap asked, clutching his chest in mock alarm. 

“Mm, depends if that pint’s for me or not.”

“It was, but if you’re gonna be cheeky then-“

Soap made a play to grab the tall bubbling glass next to him, but you beat him to it. You were tipping your head up and gulping it down before he could register that you’d stolen it from his reach. 

“Fuckin hell, slow down,” Gaz laughed.

You lowered your glass to Gaz’s protest and watched as the golden liquid sloshed and levelled to around halfway. You hadn’t realised how much you’d needed that. With an eyebrow raise and a swipe of your tongue over your lips, you finally took your seat next to Soap. The men watched you and you watched them in some kind of cowboy style standoff. 

“I take it everyone knows about my verbal beat down then?” 

Soap and Gaz looked away, but Ghost's eyes remained trained on you. They were completely unashamed, unbothered that you knew he’d been gossiping again. 

“Is anything sacred round here,” you muttered, taking only a bitter sip of your beer this time. 

“They were on the mission too, not like it’s news to em’,” Ghost sniffed. 

“Price was chain smokin’ a belter today too, it was obvious something happened,” Soap muttered from behind his glass. “Garrick asked about it but he wouldn’t say-“

Gaz shoved at him, knocking his teeth against his glass.

“Oi!” 

“Don’t drag me into it!” Gaz groused.

“Well…regardless, Price wouldn’t tell us what was up, but Ghost said he’d spoken to you about what happened and that was why he had a face like a slapped arse.”

You snorted and shook your head. Soap was ever the eloquent storyteller.

“And he didn’t tell you anything else?” You asked, surprised he hadn’t mentioned the ultimatum.

“Almost like I’m a professional or something,” Ghost chuckled, leaving back in his corner. 

You raised your eyebrows and took a breath to ease your relief. In fairness to him, he loved to rile you up and tease you, but when it came to work he genuinely was strict about these things. Things like private meetings where you were told you couldn’t continue to pursue a certain masked Austrian. Surprisingly enough.

However, with that thought, you were sent spiralling back to the dilemma that had been torturing you all day. Thinking about König made your heart sink with heaviness. It dropped like an anchor. That kiss from the night before had been the last time you’d seen him, the last time you’d be able to speak to him. You had so many things you’d wanted to talk through and clear up. Now - you had to ignore him at the cost of your job and you felt even worse about all that hadn’t been said. It made you feel like you’d used him, you worried he’d see it that way too. 

“What happened then?” Gaz asked, noticing you disappear into yourself. 

You shook yourself out of your stupor, poorly trying to cover it up.

“What?” You asked innocently. 

“At the meeting?” He prodded. “What’d Price say?”

“Almost sounds like you’re excited,” you bit out, deflecting as much as possible. “Someone’s enjoying being the sole favourite again, hmm?”

“Don’t be a dick, Sneak. Remember that time I fumbled the breach on that door in France - I almost blew us all to hell, you remember how bad that was? Price was fucking livid with me, and even then he was able to let that go eventually. And then after it happened, after he almost killed me for it, you told me to talk about it all so I wouldn’t have it trapped in my head, so just tell us. What’d he say?”

A deep shuddering breath left your lungs like a gale. Suddenly the pint in your hand was much more interesting than you’d ever found a drink. The way the liquid sloshed and foamed white, the bubbles fizzing in your ears like static, it drew your eye for a few moments until you risked a glance up to Ghost, watching his eyes roam your face. He was interested to see if you’d keep deflecting or come out with it, expression stony.

“He said I couldn’t talk to König again, and I’m assuming you won’t see me round base for much longer if I decide to go against him.” You sighed.

Soap and Gaz raised their eyebrows, but they didn’t look too shocked. However, they did risk a look at each other and something seemed to ring through their expressions. A little bright bulb of knowledge, wordless but obvious. What was it they were thinking about, what had happened?

“Spill,” you growled. 

Ghost looked equally as intrigued, sitting up from his slump in the corner. That was interesting too. Soap knew something that Ghost didn’t - for once. 

“Well me n’ Gaz were comin’ out the gym together and we were gonna go to the kitchen quickly before the showers and eh…the Captian was in there having a word with the big guy.”

“A word? What do you mean?” You asked, nails digging into the sticky wood of the table. 

“Couldn’t hear, but it was obvious they weren’t agreeing,” Gaz shrugged. “König looked like he was going to strangle Price.”

“Price just stood there as well, shoulders back, relaxed as anything. König was all over the place, shouting in German and smashing his fist on the counter before he stormed out. We left before he reached us - as you can imagine,” Soap laughed nervously, clearly still affected by the sight. 

Shouting in German? It wasn’t like him to slip into his native language when he was around the base. You’d heard him start to speak it once or twice when he got the occasional phone call from his family, but he rarely strayed from English. Only when he was mumbling to himself or surprised or annoyed about something would you hear the odd word or curse outside of speaking on the phone, but he didn’t let those out often. He must’ve been in a horrible mood to be shouting like that at the Captain. 

“Do you know what he said?” You asked curiously. 

“How the fuck should we know,” Soap chuckled. “He was doing that thing where his voice goes all loopy and high pitched. Sounded like a cartoon character, ‘eek meek deek’ somethin’ somethin’ -  he was goin’ bananas.”

“Ich mach dich kalt?” You tried, briefly recognising the sounds of the words from a story König had told once - about an older boy chasing after him with a swiss army knife.

“Yeah sounded just like that actually! What’s it mean?” Gaz said. 

“I’ll make you cold - I’ll kill you, basically,” you said, biting your lip. “Sounds like he was really fucking angry with Price.” 

-💀-

Despite not having wanted to go out that night, you’d had a nice time. After you’d stopped talking about the whole Price debacle, the conversation revolved more around usual topics and for a little while it felt like everything was ok again. 

König lingered ever present in the back of your mind, but the boys provided a good distraction and you were glad that Ghost forced you out of your cave of isolation. He’d known exactly what you needed, as little as you’d like to admit it. 

You’d ended the night on six pints and walked back to base merry, singing along to a nonsense song that Soap was singing, grinning ear to ear and holding onto him like your life depended on it. Your hand was wrapped tightly around his back and he was doing the same to you, forcing you along the street in a wild toppling sway that made your head spin. The stars looking like they were dancing and the trees swayed too and fro below them, like nature's flash mob in your blurry field of vision.

The song carried through the night like a fox call, but neither Gaz nor Ghost could stop you both from singing it. No matter how many times Ghost threatened discipline or Gaz told you there were people sleeping, nothing broke through your happy daze. Life was good, it was you and the 141; it was downing dry crappy beer in your favourite pub and telling stories about the times you all fucked up until you were all laughing along. 

All until you passed by your usual sitting spot and noticed König posted up there, watching you walk along like a sentry. Your heart stopped and you stopped walking with it, sending Soap almost clattering to the ground. He was cursing you out and stumbling to his feet, in complete ignorance of the staring contest you held with your former…whatever he was to you. 

König’s back was stiff, body upright and his eyes unblinking at you, glinting in the dark like precious diamonds - hard, sharp edged and dangerous.

Ghost and Gaz froze, they’d been walking up ahead, and turned back when they realised you and Soap were missing, and as soon as Ghost spotted König you could swear you heard him growl. He marched over, boots thudding like gun blasts, and yanked on your arm, manhandling both you and Soap away. You’d tried to look behind you, tried to silently tell König sorry with your gaze, but even that was stopped as Ghost shoved you forward and barked at you to keep moving. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got the biggest hands, LT?” Soap hiccuped, simpering up at Ghost like an idiot. 

“Big enough to strangle both of you if you don’t keep moving,” he’d muttered, eyes trained on you. 

“Mm, some people really like big hands. My ex told me once…” Soap babbled, sent mad with the twelve pints he’d gotten through. “The bigger the hands, the bigger the-“

“That’s quite enough Sergeant!” Ghost interrupted, shoving Soap forward this time. “Both of you get inside and go to your rooms before I play conkers with your heads!”

-💀-

It wasn’t until a few days later that you had another run in with König. You were about to go into the kitchen when you noticed him standing by the counter, in his full hood, making a cup of coffee. To make matters worse, Price was about to walk in at the same time. He’d caught you lingering in the limbo of the kitchen and hallway, your hand gripping the doorway like the room might start shaking. 

Price had smiled at you, finally able to look at you with something other than disappointment, and dropped his expression as soon as he noticed why you’d stopped. It wasn’t for his benefit, he must’ve realised, it was indecision about entering a room with König. He paused too, both of you stuck watching the unwilling Austrian zoo exhibition. It was only when Price walked forward and busied himself with looking in the fridge that you assumed you must be allowed in there too. 

It all felt so ridiculous. The reality of the situation finally kicked in and you had to bite your tongue just to stop yourself from laughing. You were reduced to hiding in doorways and ducking round corners all to avoid a boy that you were forbidden from talking to. Next thing you knew you’d be telling Price you’d done your homework while you figured out a way to sneak out of your window. 

You shook your head, trying not to think about it all and stared down at your shoes the minute König finally looked up at you. He grunted something too low for you to hear and moved aside, allowing you space to make your tea.

In turn, you sighed and took the handle of the kettle in your hand, testing the weight of it to see how much water was left and put it down satisfied that you could make your tea and leave. It was heavy, almost full, the slosh of water against metal was one of the few sounds that pervaded the tense atmosphere of the room. 

You could hear your heartbeat inside your ears, it thudded dully like a warning. You opened the cupboard, hoping to escape the sound as soon as you could, drown it out with a movie and maybe a workout afterward. Though you stopped in confusion when you noticed your tea wasn’t there. 

You frowned for a second until you remembered that Ghost had been fucking with you and Soap ever since that night at the pub. He took to petty revenge instead of anything official, and it was that that had you chancing a look on top of the cupboards, remembering when he’d done this before. Sure enough, you’d only just glimpsed a corner of the berry red packaging, but that was enough to tell you it had been put up out of your reach. Fuck sake.

“Fucking Ghost,” you muttered, hands on your hips like an annoyed teacher.

You refused to drink regular tea. It would be giving in to Ghost, and you were never one to do that unless under order and actively working (even then, you’d apparently shown yourself and everyone else you could rebel against him if the motivation was there). 

You raked your hand down your face and sighed, marching over to the table so that you could retrieve a chair. Though, before you could even pull one out from the table König had noticed your situation and reached up wordlessly, retrieving the box of tea and setting it on the counter. He didn’t say anything after either, but he gave you a butter soft look as if to say I still care. 

It broke your heart - even despite the things you knew about him that made you so angry - you missed him like hell. 

You wanted to hug him and tell him just how much you’d missed him. You wanted to tell him how many times something had happened over the days that made your heart wrench because you wouldn't be able to chat to him about it. You missed his dry comments and evil little laugh, you missed when he’d get overly polite because he’d get flustered talking to you, and most of all you missed having that big muscled body pressed against you in some form another; beside you, up against you, an arm around you, a thigh brushing against yours. His heat was missing, your body had never been so cold.

“You hanging around long, König?” Price asked, voice lilting dangerously.

You gulped, your grip on the chair tightening. You watched as König clenched his fists and regarded the Captain, who was glaring daggers at him. Neither man looked ready to back down, but neither made a move forward. You were glad for it, you didn’t want them to fight in front of you. You didn't like the idea of König shouting. 

“I figured I’d sit for a bit,” König finally said, leaning his heavy frame against the counter, “is that alright, Captain?”

“As long as you don’t mess with my team, you can do anything you like, König.”

“Polite of you to allow that,” König replied, distaste dripping from his tone. 

“I’m a reasonable man.”

König sniffed at that, but he didn’t come out with a rebuttal. Instead he picked up his coffee and left, not in the mood to continue bickering back and forth with Price. You doubted he could last much longer either, his body looked fit to burst by the time he’d gone, ready to tear forward and claim Price’s head for his wall. 

“Fucking KorTac,” Price muttered, slamming the fridge and walking out with a brown can. 

-💀-

A few days later, after a couple more awkward encounters filled with longing stares and unspoken words, you’d been lying on your bed when first contact came. 

You squealed like a school kid. You hadn't expected something to go flying across your floor and to the foot of your bed. At first you’d thought  it was some kind of mouse until you calmed down and realised it was just a bit of paper that had gone skittering across the wood. 

“What the fuck?” you mumbled to yourself.

You hesitantly picked up the note and almost dropped it like a hot potato when you saw the neat looping scrawl on the page. It didn’t look like any handwriting you recognised from your team and instinctually you knew exactly who had written it. Apparently he wasn’t as strong willed as you.

Meet me at The Broken Plough at 8.30, I know the 141 don’t go there.

When you read it finally, you found yourself falling back onto your bed, sending the springs groaning underneath you. The Broken Plough was further out than your usual pub, the one that was usually too full of people to get a seat at. It was charming and had a lot more of a modern touch to it, so it was no wonder more people flocked there, and you knew for a fact that König was going to use that to his advantage. More people meant less prying eyes, it meant crowds that could hide even a massive almost seven foot tall Austrian man. 

“I’m not going,” you said out loud to yourself, perhaps as a command, perhaps as a promise. “I could lose my job.”

Nevertheless, whatever you tried to do by manifesting out loud didn’t work - you ended up worming your way out of the base just before eight o’clock. You walked through the cold night, steps crunching on the frosty grass and found yourself at The Broken Plough just before the agreed time, cursing yourself as you filtered through the crowd and toward the bar, blessedly finding a free chair. 

If you were going to face König after all those days of not speaking, then you needed a drink or two first.

The vodka shot you ordered went down hard and bitter on your throat, however it paved the way for your double rum and coke to go down nice and smoothly. If you were going to put your position at risk, then you’d be damned if you were going to do it sober. It was a necessity really, even through the cold your body had been running hot with worry, and then as you sat at the bar you could practically feel your eyes vibrating as you looked down at the dark liquid in the wide glass, swirling it around and distracting yourself from the chatter of all the people around you.  

“You came.”

You froze, registering the voice coming from your right side. It sounded soft, though you still heard it, completely undeniably coming from the man you’d been forbidden to talk to. His shadow cast itself across the bar and darkened your drink from treacle to tar. It was a shock at first, knowing you could speak to him in safety, and then it was a spark, a kick of lightning as if you’d been put under a defibrillator. You were doing something bad - but you’d don’t care.

You could talk to him again, it was safe. 

Not that you could even find the words to say when you came to the realisation. You hadn’t even looked at him yet. You glanced up from your glass and gasped when you came face to face with him, eyes blowing up like supernovas. 

He wasn’t wearing his hood, or his neck warmer, or even the usual uniform you came to expect him to be in. He was wearing roughed up jeans and a black t-shirt that could barely contain his upper arms, the fabric was straining around his muscles and looked fit to burst. Inexplicably your mouth started to fill, and you had to choke down a swallow just to greet him. 

“König!” you squeaked, still running your eyes up and down his frame. 

You were in disbelief. This was what König looked like? He might as well have appeared naked, you wouldn’t have reacted much differently. You caught sight of every detail you could, cataloguing the scars and bruises that ran along his arms like tiger stripes and leopard spots, gouges and slashes scattered carelessly, disrupting the blanket of fine blonde hair that ran across them. His chest was wide even without all the gear and bags normally strapped across it, his legs still thick without the baggy trousers he normally wore. 

When you finally looked up at his face you caught him staring back at you with an expression crossed half with amusement and half with worry. You supposed he must’ve been anxious about how you’d react, and if you were going to show up at all - and now that you’d come and not said anything beyond his name. Did he think you were going to think better of your decision? 

Certainly not now you’ve seen him looking like that, you thought absentmindedly. He’d even brushed his hair, it sat neatly on top of his head, running all in the same direction. He’d put effort in, he wanted to look good. 

“Are you alright?” he asked finally, breathless. 

“Yeah, just- I just can’t believe you’re standing in front of me right now and you look…like that.”

“Like what?” he replied, frowning and looking down at himself as if he’d done something wrong, as if he’d come out with two different shoes or something. 

“Like um- like…” you bit your tongue and looked away from him, taking a sizable drink from your glass. “Good.”

“You think I look good?” he grinned.

König’s face broke out into a full smile, his soft lips and his big eyes making you dizzy. You ached to brush your hand against his jaw and pull him toward you, you wanted to kiss him again. Though you didn’t think you’d get to remain in your refuge for long if you wound up on top of him (or below, you didn’t mind) in public. 

“Yes, you look good,” you said weakly, finishing the rum and coke down to the last sticky sweet drop.

“I figured it’d help if I was less recognisable,” he shrugged, “but if it works for you, then that’s good too.”

“I think people might still have their doubts about the six foot seven Austrian man,” you laughed. 

“What if I lean?” he said conspirtorialy, lowering himself against the bar a little. 

“Oh, much less conspicuous now,” you snorted.

You both chuckled at that, and he straightened up again with a shake of his head. Clearly you’d both missed each other’s company more than you’d realised, and with that realisation you were fighting to keep back a whine and your stomach was filling with butterflies. You were really speaking with König again. He was really there, in the incredibly handsome flesh. 

“I missed you,” you sighed, propping your head against the arm you had leaning on the bar top. 

“I missed you too,” he said quietly. “You have no idea how many times I had to hold myself back from talking to you. It’s been torture.”

“Well I guess I have to thank you for that. I’m only just back in Price’s good books,” you said bitterly. 

“Price,” he grunted. “I still can’t believe it - what happened. He came up to me and told me about your meeting with him, you know, and he said if he caught me talking to you he’d get me kicked off the base for ‘unprofessional’ behaviour. As if that weren’t enough, when I told him to go ahead, he said he’d send you away to another team if you gave in.”

Your mind spun knowing that Price really was serious. If by some miracle Price chanced walking into the pub he swore that he hated, your role in the 141 was going to be dissolved in acid and shut into a barrel. 

“The man knows how to make a threat, I’ll give him that,” you remarked.

“It’s not right!”

You sighed and ran your hand along König’s arm, feeling the hair tickle at your fingertips. He was a spring waiting to release, his muscles corded like he was ready to be unleashed onto the field. They only got tighter as you continued your ministrations, his face was turning unreadable, his breaths labouring in his chest. 

How tightly wound was he? You were just stroking his arm. 

“König, I’m not a fan of the decision either, but…I understand why he asked it of us.”

“What?” he growled, standing away from your reach. 

“I know that what happened wasn’t exactly a live or die situation, but realistically it could’ve been. There could’ve been men we didn’t know about and they could’ve gotten to Soap and Gaz while I was off distracting Ghost. It could’ve been bad. It could-”

“Any situation could turn into anything, it doesn’t mean you should ban people from speaking to each other like you’re some kind of fucking teacher or something, he shouldn’t have that power.”

“He’s the Captain, he has that power for a reason, he has to do what’s best for his team,” you sighed. “Even when what’s best is really shitty.”

König looked like he could go on, but he saw the way that you were staring back at him and dropped it, looking utterly defeated. He clenched his jaw and looked around the bar, catching the faces of the people that milled around and seemed to be deep in thought. His brows had a little knot in the middle, just a little something you picked up, he was concentrating hard. 

“If you agree with his decision then why did you come and meet me?” he asked, finally talking again. 

“Because, I care about you. I couldn’t just never speak to you again - after everything y’know?”

He bit his lip.

“You still care about me even after all those things you said?”

It was your turn to go silent. You suppose you’d been expecting it to come up, but then again you were praying that it wouldn’t. Trying to explain the multitude of crossed wires and screaming signals in your mind was too difficult. You still didn’t like what went down, or the kind of work he did, but given more time to reflect, you were able to distance yourself from the situation and appreciate what he’d said that night before you'd kissed him. The person on the field and the person in front of you were separate although intertwined, they were day and night.

Inexplicably you wanted to stick around for the daytime, despite the darkness he was capable of. 

“I don’t know where I fall on it all, but… I know that I missed you after not getting to speak to you for a week. I know that I thought about that kiss we had and I felt my lips go tingly every fucking time i did, and now that I say it out loud its really cringy, but you know what? It’s what happened. I think about you all the time, whenever I watch dumb videos and see someone out on a hike somewhere or reviewing some completely over portioned food place I think of you. I think about you and your pictures you show me, and the stories you’ve told me and I drive myself insane thinking about dates we could go on and things I wanna tell you about myself and I just…I want you. I want you in spite of it all. I never want to leave the 141, unless I absolutely have to, but I don’t want this to be the last time we ever speak either.”

König listened to you intently, his face grew soft and he drifted ever closer to you with each word that you said. His hands hovered across the bar and over onto you, warming your flesh as they grasped your thighs and they drew up to your shoulders.

As soon as you’d finished speaking he was kissing you again, and you were losing yourself to him, breathing him in, Soap and citrus and spice. You wove your hands through his hair and felt the slicked back strands separating through your fingers like grass in the summer. You held him close and kissed him deep, the burn of spirits that still coated your tongue dying as he replaced them with his own sweet taste.

When you separated, you were both breathing heavily, marathon level gasps were leaving your lungs, but you didn’t think much about it. You could feel how blown out your pupils were, you were sure they looked just like his. You smirked at him, and he smiled back, his eyes crinkling. There was still a little paint left behind in the creases. 

“I don’t think that should be our last kiss,” König murmured. 

“I don’t think so either…”

“Then what do we do?” He sighed.

You paused for a moment, feeling horrified at the thought of what you were about to say. Although, even with your mind racing and your heart thundering, you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“You’re free some weekends right?”

Next Part Here

#König #König x reader #konig x reader #konig #könig fanfiction #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare fanfiction #mw2

[jojissalsa]

uncle leon being icky... (need him so bad)

tw: dead dove, incest (uncle-niece), slight dubcon, size difference, dumbification, mentions of alcoholism, descriptions of porn, leon being gross to bimbo reader (fem reader) MDNI, 18+ under cut (not proofread SORRY!)

a/n: i cannot stop thinking of vendetta leon finding that one pornstar that looks like him…. i just know he'd watch all his vids religiously cause he wants to be a skeevy little shit. love that sleaze ball so much <3

you knew you weren't the sharpest tool in the box, it was just in your nature. never stressed about having to lift your pretty, manicured hands, because your parents did all that for you. sure, they were never around and that probably left a lot of emotional scars, but who cares about that when you get to wear designer?

you always thought it was a bit weird that your parents had your uncle looking after you even now that you were an adult. probably because you always had that habit of sneaking alcohol when they weren't looking, especially when you also sneaked your friends over. but isn't it ironic to have an obvious alcoholic to look after another? if only you knew what either of those words meant, thinking too much makes you bored. you shrug it off as you watch your parents let leon in so they can go on another date night. it's always hard to be happy for them when they make time for themselves but never make any time for you. who cares when leon's around though? he makes time for you, even if it's brief. he gives you a quick hug, saying he's gonna be spending the night. you can feel the flask in the pocket of his leather jacket, but you don't say anything. yet, at least.

your plans were to get to him when he was already tipsy, praying he didn't drink it all yet when you managed to catch him when he's off guard. you wait until he thinks he's alone, sitting on the couch with his laptop in front of him, headphones in. you assumed he was watching some kind of movie, so you hop over the back of the couch and sit next to him. "hey leon, whatcha doin'?" you grin as he shuts his laptop instantly, looking at you with a startled look. you weren't that dumb, he probably was watching some chick flic and didn't want you to tease him about it. "nothing, what do you want?" you pout at his dismissive tone, you'd think he'd be a little happier to be giving you attention. "what makes you think i want something? i just wanna spend time with my favorite uncle!" you move to cuddle up at his side, watching as he grabs a throw pillow and moves it onto his lap. weird, he must be cold. "really? you sure it's not to get a drink out of me?" the way he saw right through you made your face heat up, looking around as if to figure out some kind of excuse. "what?? no.. what were you watching?" your tone was a lot less confident and bubbly, sheepish as you looked up at him. "nothing a girl like you should watch, that's for sure." he scoots his laptop away but you press up against him to try and stop him. "c'monnn, it can't be that bad, right? just let me see!" you tug at his laptop to keep it near you two, seeing him start to smile from your curiosity. "you sure, sweetheart? you might think your uncle is weird." he pinches your cheek as if you're some dumb kid, blushing under his hand. "i won't judge, promise."

in hind sight, you probably should've known. if you had a brain, that is. you sit up when he finally lifts up his laptop screen, your eyes widening when it reveals a porn video. one of those studio ones, but it wasn't the fact that it was porn. the guy looked like leon. like, a lot like him. you chastise yourself when you shiver at the thought, but is it really that bad? anyone can say their uncle is handsome, but seeing this guy was different. he was so much bigger than the girl in the video. and so strong too? never seen a guy hold someone up like that for so long.. "hey, you still here?" you must've been close to drooling, because you've been staring at the video since he opened his laptop. "huh? yeah, yeah." you wave him off to continue watching, because you've never seen anything like this before. sure, you've watched porn before, but this was different. it felt different, it looked dirty. the way his hands were bigger than half her body, all the things he was saying, it made your chest feel heavy and your panties feel damp. you barely noticed the throw pillow suddenly gone from leon's lap, his hand moving down your back, his fingers dangerously close to slipping under your shorts. "are girls really that small? or are guys just that big?" your question was genuine, you never paid attention to the difference like that. maybe now you'd think about it a bit more than most things. "mmm, dunno, you wanna find out?" his voice sounded just as husky as the guy in the video, and it nearly made you moan, unable to part your lips to say yes. so you just nod, your heavy breathes coming out in short little puffs from your nose.

you thought he was just gonna grab your hand and show you the size difference like the guy in the video, instead he moves his laptop to the coffee table, leaving you in front of him with your legs spread. you watch as his hand smooths over the back of your thigh before stilling right next to your clothed pussy, making you twitch at how close his hand was. "look at that, such a cute little cunt." he groans and you let out the most pathetic squeak that makes you cringe internally. "aww, you like that, huh? you wanna know if my fingers can fit in that tiny pussy?" you shake like a leaf in the wind at his voice, feeling the pulse in your cunt get just as fast as your heartbeat. "mhm.." you feel so meek, being this vulnerable, and in front of your uncle of all people. it was fast, leon was already peeling your clothes off before you even let the sound out. the relief washing over you from being freed of your panties short lived as his fingers swiped over your clit, slick sticking to his palm. "hold your legs up, baby." your nails nearly dig into the back of your knees as you hold up your legs, the sudden intrusion of his finger making you tense.

your mind could barely cling onto one thought for too long, drifting from one to the next. god, his finger is so thick. so long, too. i can't even reach that far, can i? he laughs like he can hear what you're thinking, digging his finger even deeper, making you gasp as your back arches. "not used to a finger reaching that far, huh, sweetheart? think you can fit my cock in here?" the way he talks is making you squirm, needing him to hold you down as he slips another finger in. "i wanna try, can i, uncle leon? show me, please." you clearly hit a nerve, his touch feeling even more needy just from your words alone. you whine as his fingers leave your hole so he can work on getting his cock out of his jeans, still holding your legs up. your eyes glaze over as he holds his cock over your tummy, his pre-cum leaking onto your skin. "look at that," he takes your jaw in his hand, making you look at how big he is compared to you, the tip of his cock barely an inch away from your belly button. "so fucking wet and i barely touched you. that video really turned you on that much?" your body tenses again as he holds his dick in place to hump against your clit, feeling the knot in your core get tighter and tighter.

you were so focused on the pleasure you were feeling you didn't realize he wanted you to answer him. his grip on your jaw got tighter, pushing your cheeks together to pucker your lips. "too dumb of a whore you can't answer? i haven't even stuck my dick in you yet and you're leaking like a faucet," your body practically convulses at his dirty talk, drool threatening to leave your shut lips. "do you even care that i'm your uncle? or are you just a slut for anyone with a cock?" you try to tilt your head back from ecstasy, failing miserably from his grip staying tight, whining from all the teasing. "'s not true, you're being mean.." your words are muffled, slurred from how cockdrunk you are. "aww, i'm being mean? what, am i teasing you too much, sweetheart?" you're on the verge of screaming at him to hurry it up before you lose it, the shame of doing this with your uncle long gone. not like it was there to begin with, you doubt you even grasp the meaning of shame. not because you're a whore, of course not. you're just a dumbass.

he can tell your whimpering is desperate enough to consider as begging, finally sheathing his cock inside you, groaning into the crook of your neck as he bottoms out. you've never felt this full in your life, you can't tell if the stretch is painful because he's big or because you haven't gotten laid in a while. meanwhile he's a little disappointed you're not a virgin, but you might as well be with how tight your walls are hugging him. he might as well be the virgin, trying his hardest not to come when your walls try to suck him in as he pulls out. "fuck, so goddamn tight, surprised i even fit." you gasp when he thrusts in deeper, hitting your sweet spot. he leans up to get a full view of you, his gaze trailing down to where he sits snug in your pussy, chuckling meanly at the bulge he sees under your tummy. "see?" he makes sure your eyes are looking where he is too, picking up his pace when he sees you lock in on it. "look at how much dick you're taking, so proud of you, sweetie." the condescending lilt in his voice sends you spiraling, tightening on him as your head hangs low on the couch cushion. that was all he needed to go even faster, watching your tits bounce as he pounded you into the couch. he wasn't just rearranging your guts, he was fucking your brain out of your head, watching as you drooled onto the plush surface your pretty, empty head laid on.

he could feel you getting closer, and he knew he wasn't gonna last much longer either with how tight you were. "you wanna make uncle leon really proud, hun?" you nodded feverishly, dying at the opportunity to please him. you feel his hand move from gripping your tit to thumbing your clit, rubbing harsh, slow circles. "cum for uncle leon, sweetheart, gonna make him real happy when you do." it was in an instant, feeling your toes curl as your vision goes white, only able to scream his name over and over as your nails nearly pierced the skin under your knees. "good girl, you needed that, huh? don't worry, you'll get a nice, fat load too." your ears were still ringing, so you only registered he was cumming inside you before it was too late. you were too delirious to care about the moral implications, enjoying the warm feeling of his cum spilling from your pussy. "tiny little cunt can't even hold my cum." you hear him breathe out before he pushes it back in with his fingers, laughing at your sensitive squirming.

he lets you sleep it all off, making sure to wake up before you so your parents don't catch you two sleeping in the same bed. why sleep in the guest room when you just fucked your niece? you sit on the steps as you watch him say his goodbyes to your parents, shooting you a mean smile before he leaves. you're the first to know how gross he is, but you're praying to the few gods you remember that his smile meant he was willing to do that again. you know you shouldn't crave the way he treated you, how dirty he is. but you can at least be safe knowing you have that video to keep you over until next time.

#dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dark fic #dark content #smut #one shot #drabble #leon kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy

[chuuyasheaven]

"Thigh lover"— Dazai Osamu

"Dazai always loved your thighs, especially when they're in thigh highs. Whenever they are, he either goes on town on you or fucks the living daylights out of you, this time though it was neither but also everything of the above."

Tags: sub! Dazai Osamu / afab! Reader, face sitting, pet names, bratty? Dazai, pw/op, oral sex, slightly mean! Reader, edging???, pussydrunk! Dazai, squirting, degrading kink, everything is consented, overstimulation?, thigh fucking, Reader is thicc, he's whiny ong, idrk what I'm doing (again), ooc! Dazai, might contain grammar errors, rushed, short?, etc.

Notes: howdy, tryin' to keep up rn

All because he acted out, once again being bratty and annoying. So what's better than punishment? A punishment, which also could make you feel good. Then the perfect idea came up in your head. In this moment, Dazai's lips were making out with your cunt, while you were enjoying yourself. How is that an punishment, you ask? Well, he's not allowed to touch himself while he's eating you out, if he tries then—

"Mph—", you slightly closed your thighs together so his face would be squished. "I said no touching, did i?", you asked coldly, Dazai was only able to try to continue to eat you out, even though he couldn't since you closed your legs. "Don't make me repeat myself, brat.", you hissed at him pissed, your voice raspy at that, which made it harder to resist. ". . Yes,", he said muffled, you start to slightly smirk again. "Try to be good for once, dear, then maybe you could get what you want.", you stated, releasing Dazai from your grip. He almost immediately started getting back to where he was cut off. You grabbed his hair as he grabbed your thighs, holding onto them. He could tell that you were getting close, since he was good at it. Soon, it washed over you and you gushed onto his face, Dazai could've cum just then and there but he didn't.

As you came down from your first orgasm, Dazai spoke up. "Did I do good?", he asked while looking at you. You looked back at him smirked lightly. "Well, you did, but I don't think you really learned your lesson. .", he pouted at you, and you tried to think of something, because you couldn't stop there. Then another solution popped up. "If you wanna cum so bad, then fuck my thighs, baby.", Dazai's eyes lit up, he was willing to do anything to cum at least once. You got down from his face and sat down on the bed, while Dazai was unbuckling his belt. As you glanced at his boxers, you could see that he was leaking, look at how desperate he is! Parting your thighs a little so he had some space to slide into, he almost instantly slide in and you closed them together. Dazai bit his lip when he started to fuck your thighs, sliding in and out of them, already heavy breathing. "Feels good, doesn't it, slut?", Dazai nodded quickly while he soon to whimper quietly.

Dazai was slowly getting closer to his climax, his whimpers and whines getting louder. You had to admit, looking at him while he's so pathetically desperate had you dripping. But, you still didn't have any plans to have him cum, where's the fun in that? "Pleasepleaseplease—", he choked, you could feel him leaking more than before, meaning he was close to cumming, so parted your thighs for him to stop but also lose his orgasm. Dazai whined at this move of yours. "But I–i thought. . You said I could cum!", he whined, you looked at him rather cold again. "I didn't say it like that, besides, even if I said so I still didn't get an apology, 'Samu.", you corrected him, he was getting really frustrated with this. "Sorry.", he whispered quickly, did he think this was enough? "You can do better than this, can you? If you apologize to me and mean it, you can fuck me, alright? You know what I wanna hear, dear.", Dazai was ready to apologize genuinely just to feel your perfect cunt again, even the thought made his dick twitch.

Dazai looked down while starting off with his apology, starting to almost beg to feel your walls around him. "I'm s–sorry for acting out, I really didn't mean to annoy you. . Please, can you make me cum? I swear I'll be good f'you.", he said with a whiny tone, you smirked at him again and grabbed his chin to make him look at you. "You mean it, baby?", you cooed quite mockingly, he nodded. "Yes, please, need you so bad.", he was lowkey cute like this, so you accepted it, besides, you wanted to feel him inside you now. "Okay, if you really mean it, then I'll forgive you. You have my permission now.", you stated, Dazai's eyes lit up again, excitement visible within his eyes. You spread your legs enough for him, your pussy already wet enough for him to slide in, he could've sworn that he wanted to just cum of the sight. Dazai entered and already came right inside you, you let out a quiet moan of surprise. He already started to thrust now, he wasn't slow but also not rough, just somewhere in between.

It felt so good you could've sworn that you almost wanted to cum at this moment, but you tried to stay dominant. You tried really hard, but Dazai lifted your leg to reach deeper inside, whenever he pulled that trick you were a moaning mess. As his hips slapped against yours, the sound filling your bedroom, you were starting to lose control and started to moan with him. Then you felt your second orgasm near, when it washed over you Dazai came again stopping for a moment. You tried to catch your breath, but Dazai started to thrust again, trying to chase another orgasm. Dazai's face starting to get sweaty, his face flushed and slutty moans and whimpers leaving both of your lips. "F–fuck, Dazai. . Slow down—", your pleas fell on deaf ears, he was only able to fuck and pant heavily. Your legs were lifted again, Dazai placed on his hips to reach deeper inside you, which made you almost gush around his cock again. How did he manage to make this sensitive this quick? "Ah! D–dazai. .", you moaned, trying to calm him down but he was in a trance, he was pussydrunk now.

It was incredible, so much that you were nearing your third, but this one was feeling kind of weird. Dazai kept on thrusting inside you, already reaching to your clit to make you cum faster, which definitely did. When he trusted once more, you felt it coming, intense. "D–dazai, I'm close—" was the last thing you said before you squirted all over him, your juices gushing around him too. Open seeing this, Dazai moaned one last time before cumming inside you, twitching insanely a lot. You were out of breath and so was Dazai, he pulled out and your mixed juices leaked out of your cunt. He laid beside you, you moved over to him and got closer.

"This. . Was something else, 'donna."

This wasn't rlly abt thighs was it?

#Rei's Kinktober 2023 !! ❤️ #dazai bungou stray dogs #dazai smut #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bottom dazai #clingy dazai #osamu dazai smut

[writeforfandoms]

Born for Greatness 5

Find the series masterlist 

In which Logan makes his grand entrance (and there is a lot less bloodshed than most of you seem prepped for). Some discussions are had. 

Side note: JTF2 is a Canadian special forces unit. Also, I’m thinking of writing a side chapter that is just Logan and the 141 pack. Thoughts? 

Warnings: Swearing, Logan is a jerk, Price needs a warning label, world building, shifter behavior, pack cuddles. 

Word count: 2.2k

Eventual John Price x f!reader

The plane landed back in England and you leaned back a bit, watching the pack. Soap was glued to one side of you, Gaz napping on your other side. Price was watching all three of you, something undeniably soft in his gaze. 

You hadn't forgotten about Logan, but you hadn't expected him to find you so bloody fast. 

You got to put your things down in your room, at least, before Price was knocking on your door, expression thunderous. 

"Who did you tell about this base?" He asked in a low snarl. 

"No one," you snapped, frowning. "Signed too damn many NDAs to tell anyone." 

"Then why do you have a visitor at the gate?" 

You froze. "Oh hell," you breathed. "That bastard!" You stepped around Price and took off towards the gate, barely paying attention as the pack all gathered behind you. 

Sure enough, Logan stood on the other side of the gate, smirking, all 5’6” of him in jeans and a flannel, duffel bag dropped at his side. But his hair was a little shorter than the last time you’d seen him, and his beard was nicely trimmed. 

“I told you not to come,” you growled, ignoring the gate guard and striding straight up to Logan. 

“Good to see you too, kid.” His smirk widened as he looked past you. “That them?”

You finally turned to find the pack had followed you and had settled into a loose cluster behind you. You hissed out a breath. 

“It doesn’t matter because you are going home.”

“Aw, but I came all the way out here just for you, kid.” Logan’s grin reached shit-eating proportions. 

“You are not supposed to be here,” you growled, narrowing your eyes at Logan. “And I don���t just mean because I told you not to.”

“Been here once before.” Logan shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seen him before, too.” He nodded to Ghost. When you turned to look, Ghost returned the nod. 

“...What?” You felt like he’d pulled a rug from under you. 

“Few years back,” Logan said, tipping his head as he looked up at the bigger shifter. “You lot needed help finding someone.”

“Right.” Ghost huffed what might have been a laugh. “Good to see you again.” 

“When was this?” You frowned a little as you looked at Logan. 

“You were down south,” he said, scratching his chin slowly. “The pack in Ohio, I think it was.” 

“And you worked together?” Price looked at Ghost to confirm. 

“Joint op with JTF2,” Ghost confirmed with a solid nod. 

Soap whistled lowly. “Now that’s not easy to get into,” he said, looking at Logan with new respect. 

“Mmhm.” Logan grinned. “Now, you gonna invite me onto base, or we gonna shoot the shit out here?” 

You hung your head with a low groan before you looked back at Price. It was his call, his territory. 

Price clenched his jaw briefly but nodded. “Be welcome on my territory.” 

“Gonna introduce me?” Logan drawled, one finger hooking through your belt loop before you could escape.

You looked up at the sky for a moment. Looked like rain. You wouldn’t mind a good soak right then. “Logan, that is Alpha Price, Ghost you apparently know, and those two are Soap and Gaz. This is Logan, the longest-running pain in my ass.” 

“Say, you wouldn’t happen to be her wolverine friend, would you?” Gaz stepped closer, eyes bright with curiosity.

“Talkin’ about me, kid?” Logan smirked, looking far too amused. 

“I hate you,” you grumbled, hunching your shoulders. “I’m gonna go find something tall to throw myself off of now.”

“Good luck, have fun.” 

You gave up, jogging ahead to catch up to Price as the other three hung back with Logan. “I swear I didn’t ask him to come here, or tell him where I even was.”

“I know,” Price murmured soothingly. One hand touched yours. “If he’s JTF2, he’s got his own resources.”

“He’s quasi-retired. Which I’m sure is why he was able to drop everything and fly out here.” You rubbed a hand over your face. You should never have called him. 

“Hey.” Price’s hand fit warm over the back of your neck. “You’re fine. Don’t stress about it.”

You sighed, some of the tension running out of your shoulders. “Yeah, alright.” You drew in a deep breath. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

Price shrugged, his thumb gently smoothing over the back of your neck. “Today’s an off day since we just got back. I’ll probably be working on paperwork, but they’re free to do whatever they want.”

“Right.” You pursed your lips. You could find places to hide on base and be out of the way. “I’ll stop bothering you, then.”

“Not bothering me.” He glanced at you, eyes dark, hand squeezing the back of your neck lightly. “Stop worrying.”

“It is literally my job to worry.” 

“Then maybe you need a day off.” He stopped outside one of the buildings, hand shifting just a little lower to squeeze again. Your eyes slid half-closed in pleasure, and his lips quirked. “You know where my office is?”

“Nope.” You blinked slowly at him.

“Ask one of them. I’ll be there all day if you need anything.” He ducked his head a little to meet your eyes for a moment before he released you and walked away. 

You blinked after him and then turned to find four shifters all watching you curiously. You warmed and flapped your hands at them. “Shoo, you hooligans. Go cause chaos somewhere else.” And you promptly fled. 

You ended up on top of the barracks (and briefly told yourself to talk to someone about this habit of going high places when in distress). The sky was still threatening rain, but so far activity on the base hadn’t ceased. 

Soft swearing made you finally look away from the view, spotting Logan climbing up onto the roof. He shot a mistrustful look at the sky before he walked over and sat next to you.

“So?”

“So what?” you asked, looking back out over the base.

“You like them.” He nudged you, just once. 

You blew out a sigh. You could try to lie, or deflect. But it wouldn’t work for long. Logan knew all your tells. “I do.” 

“So make it work.”

“It’s not that simple.” 

“It’s never that simple.” Logan snorted. “Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

You glowered at him and then gave up, sighing and looking away again. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Besides, I have no idea how they feel.”

“Don’t you?” Logan looped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “Or are you just ignoring signals?”

“Stop being so damn perceptive,” you growled. 

“Well, no snowbanks to throw you into here,” Logan rumbled. “This is my next best bet.”

You groaned. “You’re a menace.”

“And you’re stubborn, makes us even.” 

The first fat drop of rain landed right on top of your head, followed immediately by one landing on your nose. 

“Aw, fuck,” Logan grumbled. “Weather here is still shit.” 

You snorted, getting to your feet. “You live in Canada.”

“And?”

“You have snow at least half the year!”

“Snow is easy. This is just wet.” Logan motioned you to go down first, keeping a close eye on you. You got down to the ground with no issues and moved out of the way so Logan could get down too, grimacing at the pull of wet clothes. It had gone from threatening to downpour in less than a minute. 

“Did they give you a room yet?” you asked, jogging to the door to the barracks and heading inside.

“Nah, mentioned something about it.” Logan shrugged, unconcerned, following you. 

“Guess we’re going back to mine, then.” You led the way, unlocking the door and letting him in first. Not that there was much to see. 

“You don’t travel with any pictures?” He frowned a little, gaze darting around the room. 

“No. Usually I try to give my full attention to the pack I’m working with.” You pulled out a clean top and dry sweatpants. “Besides, I talk to people almost every day.”

Logan grumbled, displeased, but changed as well. His duffel bag had been left in your room, although you weren’t sure if it was a joke, an easy place to put it temporarily, or because someone had assumed something about the nature of your relationship. 

With the both of you in dry clothes, you debated what else to do now. You hadn’t exactly come equipped to entertain, after all. 

A knock on your door made you blink, but you pulled it open to see Soap and Gaz. 

“Movie day?” Gaz asked with a hopeful smile. 

“Alright,” you agreed. “You okay if he tags along? He gets bored on his own.” You jerked a thumb back over your shoulder at Logan. 

“Watch it, kid,” he grumbled without any heat. 

“Sure.” Soap grinned. “More the merrier. I’ll drag LT in later.”

You snorted softly but followed Gaz to the rec room. Soap and Gaz immediately ensconced you between them on the couch, and Logan chuckled as he settled in a chair. 

“You two are menaces,” you said without heat, letting Gaz spread a blanket over the three of you. But you forced yourself to look at them a little more closely, to actually note how they behaved and their body language. While neither of them really fussed, they both paid attention to you, and to have you squished between them like this? This was a definite sign of favor, of acceptance, only enhanced by how relaxed they both were with you. 

Almost reflexively, you wanted to pull away, to hide. To protect yourself from the inevitable hurt. But you forced yourself to pause, to breathe through it. You relaxed back into the couch, breathing slowly. 

Soap made a pleased noise and cuddled in closer to you. Touch was important to pack, and cuddle times like this, or even sleeping together in a pile, was not unusual. But it also was another sign that he wanted you here.

Maybe even for longer than just this job. 

You met Logan’s eyes across the room, knowing you were showing your internal struggle. He just smiled a little, almost the softest expression you’d ever seen on his face, and very intentionally closed his eyes. One of the biggest signs of trust from a shifter. 

You swallowed hard and relaxed between Gaz and Soap, warm and comfortable and comforted. 

Sometime after the first movie, Ghost settled in the room. In a chair, of course, away from the pile of you on the couch. Gaz freed himself enough to start texting someone rapidly, glancing at you a few times. 

“What are you planning?” you asked him quietly, eyes narrowing a little.

“Nothing,” he immediately protested. “Well. Nothing bad.” He met your gaze for a long moment before he looked back at his phone. You blinked, startled. He… Had he just…? No. No way. 

His little noise of triumph distracted you, and he hopped to his feet. 

“Back in a mo,” he said before darting out of the room. 

“You have any idea what he’s planning?” you asked Soap, taking the chance to get up and bring back water for everyone. Ghost blinked when you set his down in front of him, apparently surprised.

“Not really.” Soap grinned and took his, watching you go back for snacks. “Ye ken we can get our own, aye?”

“Oh hush. You’re always hungry.” You threw a protein bar at his head. 

“You’re not wrong about that.”

You jumped at Price’s voice behind you, in the doorway. You turned to find a very amused Price standing there, a smug-looking Gaz behind him. 

“You’re a menace,” you grumbled without heat. “Giving up on the paperwork for the day?”

“Something like that.” He glanced around the room before refocusing on you. 

You tossed Ghost a snack and chucked one at Logan too before you dropped a few more on the table in front of the couch and sat back down. Soap plastered himself to your side again, looking smug. 

“Are we finishing this movie or starting something else?” you asked, giving everyone time to settle down. 

But you were surprised when Price dropped down next to you instead of Gaz. He leaned back into the couch, big and warm, his arm draped across the back of the couch. You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the screen even as a playful bout of bantering went straight over your head. 

You hadn’t spent a lot of time with Price, and him being this close was… distracting. More than you had accounted for. Especially since he was relaxed, at ease. This close, that lovely rumbling laugh could be felt and heard. 

This was dangerous. You needed to go, needed to get out before you got in too deep–

Logan caught your eye across the room, holding your gaze. You stilled. He breathed in deliberately slowly, not looking away, almost forcing you to follow along until the urge to flee vanished. Then he blinked and looked away. 

“Alright there?” Price asked quietly, though you were well aware everyone in the room could hear him. 

“Yeah.” Your lips quirked into something close to a smile as you leaned back and just a little bit into him, already steadier. “I’m good.” 

Nobody but you noticed the smug smirk on Logan’s face.

#born for greatness #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

[hanasnx]

Waaaaitttt I saw the Hayden suggestions and I’ve unashamedly thought about the very top one many many times cause I’m embarrassingly craving that y/n moment and I’ve gone to a decent amount of cons and met a fair amount of celebs I’ve debated about using one of the pheromone perfumes to meet Hayden. But like yess he sees you during the photo op and he’s instantly drawn to you. He doesn’t pay much attention to that thought cause he’s got a long line to get through and photo ops are fast paced but then when you go up to get your autograph that’s when he can sneakily make a move. When you get an autograph the handlers write your name for the celeb on a sticky note and usually the celeb doesn’t take it off so like I’m thinking he quickly scribbles his number on it and you’re so star struck you don’t notice it until you’re away from his table..but that’s how you end up in his hotel room that night with your legs up over your head.

-Bimbo Baggins

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: i gatekept this message it was so good

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN tries to stay in his lane. Over the years he's gotten exceptionally good at minding his business, minding his manners, and staying out of trouble. Mixing business with pleasure is a very steep cliff, one he rarely dares to approach. However, you had caught his eye in a way that hadn't occurred in a very long time. To give everyone fair treatment during these photo ops, his attention is solely on them during, and he did not mind at all holding your gaze when you shook his hand politely. Habitually, when you'd leaned over in front of him to give one of the attendants something he didn't care to look at, he snuck a generous glance at your ass. As soon as you stepped back to stand next to him for the picture, he accommodated you, moving aside so you could tuck under his arm, and scolded himself for giving in to the temptation.

"Can we do a sort of Anidala-wedding scene pose?" you had asked with such hope, gazing up at him with stars in your eyes. He took too long to answer.

"Of course." He nodded as soon as he got a hold of himself. "Can you show me what you mean?"

Gently, you directed him, handling his broad shoulders to turn him towards you so you could look deeply into his eyes for the picture. For one second, he could swear his heart skipped a beat. Next thing he knew, the picture flashed and you were saying your thank yous and goodbyes. A seed of disappointment grew in his chest, but he moved on.

Only to find himself eager sitting in his seat at the sight of you in the autograph line. A grin spreads on his features as you approach his booth.

"Hi again." you exhale, beaming.

"Good to see you." Hayden replies, pointing out the obvious humor of coming across you twice in a row. He's thankful, scribbling his signature onto the picture frame you'd bought earlier right after your photo op with him. A split second decision is made and it gives him no time to second-guess it when he's adding his number to the sticky note. It's his WhatsApp, just to stay safe, but you don't get time to even look at it, your attention solely on him when you thank him again. He nods at you, and watches you walk away. Once more, his eyes flash to your behind and how it sways in your little cosplay outfit.

It's not always about instant attraction for him, he has to get to know the person to know if he truly likes them, but there's something about you that draws him in. He wants to get to know you, even if he might be compromising his privacy. The ball is in your court, all he has to do is wait for you to notice the gift he left on your sticky note.

"What's that?" your friend asks, pointing to your picture frame in your hand. You grin widely at them.

"Hayden Christensen signed my picture with him— Look!" you exclaim, raising the item into view only to see what your friend was actually referring to. Your expression drops at the sight of ten numbers in a recognizable pattern. A phone number. You face away from your friend in an instant, keeping it to yourself and shielding it with your body. "No way. No fucking way—"

"Is that a phone number? Lemme see—!"

You pinch your shoulder, jerking it away from their touch as you ogle at the sticky note. "There's no way..." It's a dream, it's a fantasy, you're going to wake up any second and then have to get ready to go to con to meet Hayden Christensen for the first time.

"Relax! It's probably the staff member that wrote your name on the sticky note!" your friend reasons, poking their head around your neck and through your hair to sneak a peek. "'Sides, he's like a thousand years old."

"Be quiet for a second, lemme think." you say as you stride away and out of the exit area, scanning your surroundings for a place to chill out and sit.

"If you're that bothered, we should test it! C'mon."

"Okay, okay. Let me find service I have to download an app."

You don't even know how it happened, all of it was a blur. One moment you were texting to verify the number was who you thought it was and ignored your gut feeling when you were texted back two simple words: "Call me."

With all the power within you, you tried to remain as calm as possible while on the phone with him. Constantly, you reminded yourself that "He's just some guy." So you could fathom having a real conversation with him. It turned into him inviting you out, somewhere respectful and secluded to talk after his panel, snowballed into visiting his hotel bar, and then up to his room to sit on his balcony.

"You mind if a smoke?" he'd asked. You shook your head. And it was the first time you'd tried a cigarette. The end still wet from his lips around it, and he cupped his big hands around the mouth of it so he could light it for you.

It must've been the alcohol, or the long day, but when you'd kissed him you were sure you were possessed. His lips were soft like silk, warm and plump, and he slid his hand behind your neck to make sure you couldn't run away. Tongues coated in nicotine curled against one another, experimenting as if afraid to turn the other one away.

Taller than you, you had to crane your neck, but he held you so carefully. Gentler still even when he draw you away while your lips were still pouted and pliantly awaiting his return. "I'm sorry, I apologize. I don't know what came over me." he exhaled, releasing you. But you didn't listen, clutching onto collar of his jacket to draw him right back in.

"Oh, right there. Right there!" you plea, clawing at the hotel pillows above your head as Hayden rolls his hips into you. Big hands tuck into the crooks of your knees, folding your legs over you to hit that spongy spot inside you. Cunt up to the sky, he's slamming into you like he's done it before, a sheen of sweat to his forehead. "That's so fucking good, Hayden," you draw out the words in a sultry whine, and for one second you can't believe that you get to say those words right now. Quickly drawn back in to the moment as soon as he bottoms out for the umpteenth time, screwing your fanatic brains out.

"You feelin' good? Yeah?" he exhales, and his tongue forms over his upper lip as he splays a hand under your ass. It feels so big on you as it lifts your hips up into his thrusts. "Keep those legs up for me." You do as you're told, replacing his touch on your thighs to make sure, and you overlay one of his hands. A strangely intimate and endearing detail he takes to heart, watching your little fingers grab at his in the crook of your knee while he's yanking your cunt up by your asscheek.

"Please don't stop, please!" You want to stay here all night, all next day, forever. You want to live in this little bubble.

In a way, he helps you to achieve that by giving you his real number when it's time to leave his hotel room, and makes you promise to take his call whenever he's in the area again.

#indy shoots the shit #thanks for the msg!! #bimbo-baggins #tw age gap #indy: drabbles #ch: hayden #hayden christensen drabble #hayden christensen prompt #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x fem reader #hayden christensen x reader smut #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x y/n #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen fic #hayden christensen fanfic #hayden christensen fanfiction #reader insert

[fillinforlater]

Just Testing continues...

(READ THIS FOR CONTEXT LOLOLOL)

He looks like an addict who got another dose injected right into his veins. His hair is wild and all over the place, his eyes unfocused and euphoric, his movements uncoordinated and—he is gone. You follow him quickly, leaving two girls complaining and one in the mannequin-like state from before. Their voices become background noise and then an afterthought when you find yourself in the wide hallway from before.

“You better have something interesting,” you snark when the director excitedly points at the same room you fucked Tiffany’s face in. “You just pulled me out of heaven, this better be good.”

“Well, you might need a towel for this one,” the co-host jokes. 

You enter the room confused at those words. There is no water in it, but what looks like a thick salmon-colored blanket rolled out from one end of the room to the other. You wonder what it might feel like to fuck on this fluffy feather-filled futon, when an unexpected shove on your back reminds you that this is what you are here for.

“What the fuck?” you shout once, then twice on impact. It’s not a futon, more a waterbed filled with something similar to water but definitely not water. Stiff and less comfortable to what you were looking for. This was not in the script. 

“It’s filled with lube,” another familiar girl says. “See?” 

She slams down the pointy end of her heels dangerously close to your crotch and watches the clear, slightly viscous liquid spill out of it. Before you can react to the surprisingly warm lube hitting your skin, she starts to pounce on you, soft fingers not-so-softly wrapped around your throat.

“Yu-Yuri, what the he—st-op that!”

“Make me.”

Like so many girls today, Yuri squats down. However, she is the first to press her clothed pussy onto your cock while boring more holes for lube to spill and shoot out. The more pressure she puts on you, the wetter the surface becomes. 

Your first attempts at freeing yourself are futile, everything is slippery, nothing gives you the stability to get upright. Especially Yuri’s arm, thighs and high boots make your fingers slip again and again while she goes in again and again to attack your chest and shoulder with nibbles and quick bites.

“F-fuck you, you bitch!”

Finally, you get a hold of something. Your hands slip into the openings of Yuri’s white, now see-through bodysuit and with all your might you yank her to the side. More and more lube swells out and now Yuri has trouble getting up. Her heels get stuck in another set of holes and you finally have the upper hand, pinning her back down into the wet mess. 

"You think you got me, huh?" Yuri barks at you, realizing that it's her turn now to lose grip on oily skin. 

"Oh no, I guarantee I got ya."

Spin Yuri round and around in the puddle below her lilith frame, find that her shorts have a conveniently placed zipper on their backside. Open up, press her down, until enough lube has come out to cover her small ass. Inserting will be the easiest part, it's a lot harder to keep the brat down, especially when she suddenly starts swimming in the viscous lake.

“Oh-oh my God, i-it’s so big,” Yuri screams out, clenching around your unstoppable member creeping deeper into her anal cavity. A variety of wet sounds soon fill the microphones and the headphones of horny consumers, who’d love to see more of Yuri’s small, yet perfect bottom. Sadly, she still wears those damn white shorts. At least those with a thing for heels will have the time of their lives. 

“Stop being such a bitch, Yuri,” you groan into her ear, her body firmly trapped beneath you. In the meantime, your hands attempt the impossible task of controlling her slick hair or slicker hands. “If you behave, I’ll make you cum.”

“Y-you can never make me cum!”

“I bet you are already so clo—hey!”

In a moment of pride and distraction by the insanely pleasurable way her asshole narrows and widens, Yuri is able to crawl forward, out of the pit of lube and sweat, onto a flat part of the excessively large waterbed. She did not make it very far, so you reach for her shorts and try to pull her back. However, in an unforeseen twist that will leave everyone satisfied, the shorts come off, slide down Yuri’s legs and get tangled up with her high boots. Yuri tries to escape further, but you basically have her on a leash and easily pull her back into her cage—the pit beneath your body.

“Okay, okay, I give up, don’t hurt me please” Yuri begs and looks at you with wide open eyes. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

“Then be a good girl and scream and cream while Daddy fucks your tight little ass-pussy.”

Woah, where did that come from? Not in the script, but now it’s too late to take it back. Better follow it up with something distracting, no one will notice if you’re playing it cool now. How can they forget about your misuse of the parental replacement word, when Yuri follows your command without fail and even puts in extra effort each time you fill her fully?

“Daddy, yes, Daddy! D-destroy my ass, use it as your hole, I-I’m your—”

A sudden pause, Yuri must be very close.

“Hm? I’m waiting,” you tease her and stop your annihilation of her wrong-but-right hole. 

“I-I’m your slut, Daddy, your pleasure girl! Fuck my ass-pussy—fuck, harder, Daddy, harder!”

Fuck it, this stays in the final cut. Not only because you don’t want to let this lube-filled waterbed idea go to waste, but also because Yuri is the literal definition of a slut for a Daddy. Overused kink or not, they will lap it up like hungry dogs anyways.

Yuri’s moans grow in pitch, in loudness, while her ass grows in tightness. She is riding the edge, while you ride her ass, it has to end somewhere, in absolute bliss. Daddy’s little pleasure girl, a slut fitting for his cock needs to cum violently, or else she isn’t really useful.

“Then cum like a slut!

“Cum for Daddy!”

Yuri still twitches and whines on the red plastic, when you get up and grab a nearby towel to dry yourself. One towel is not enough, you need two, three before you can walk on the smooth tiles without the constant threat of slipping. Ignore the words coming from the co-hosts mouth, something something ‘first time’, something something ‘gentle, careful’, why is he talking so much right now? Nod along and enter a room with an atmosphere cold and uneasy like north kor—the north pole, of course.

“Hi, I’m Sullyoon,” a girl quickly says, barely getting her words louder than a whisper. She stands in the corner of the room, politely smiling at you, but hesitant to get closer. Her legs fidget in place and her fingers rub the plain brown skirt nervously. 

"Hey, no need to hide it," you tell her with a bright grin to ease the tension roaming her body. "You're nervous, I can see it."

"Ye-yeah, a little bit," Sullyoon admits, averting her gorgeous face when you approach her.

"That is completely fine and very understandable. I think everyone feels unsure about their first time."

Gently place a hand on her shoulder. Sullyoon squirms, her feet shuffle closer together, her puppy-like eyes shimmer with uncertainty. Such a great actress.

"We don't have to continue this," you whisper.

"But wouldn't that put you, give you like trouble?" she returns the whisper. "I don't wanna cause problems."

"I should be the least of your concerns, Sullyoon. Think about what you want and don't be ashamed to tell me."

Sullyoon stares down to your semi-erect cock, her finger hesitantly reaching for it. She then looks to the camera, the formerly pale face in a rosy hue.

"I want to try it, I mean, try to put it in my mouth."

"You're cute, Sullyoon, and brave. Just pinch me when things go too far."

"Like this?" she giggles and giggles a bit louder when you hiss and jump at her nails pinching your thigh. Anything to make her feel secure and to lighten the mood.

"Yes, yes, I see you're good at that. Now, how about you try to get down? You can hold onto this… wall for stability."

Sullyoon takes labored breaths when she is eye to eye with your you-know-what. Who can blame here? Its semi-hard state is still enough to dwarf her hand and fill most of her mouth. Sullyoon knows, thus she remains cautious. First, the tip of her tongue on your tip, tickling your slit gently, while you gently pat her head.

"This is nice," you hum slowly.

"Does it really feel good?"

You nod to Sullyoon's innocent question and feel her grow more confident with each lick, until she puckers her lips to let you enter. Instead of bobbing her head up and down like the more experienced actresses, Sullyoon stays motionless, except for her tongue swirling tornado-like.

"Hm, try, try taking more of it," you encourage her, but Sullyoon shakes her head.

"I-I'm scared. C-can you take the lead?"

"Uhm, sure. First, I need you to spit on it."

Sullyoon makes this adorable expression when she gathers water in her mouth, then lewdly unleashes it onto your base, missing most of your shaft.

"Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No no, just—drool on it. God, you're fucking cute like this."

Rub Sullyoon's cheek. There she goes, trying to hide her embarrassment behind quick actions, but you see right through it. The clear string of drool leaking down her lower lip engulfs your glans, then the rest when you put your shaft inside her.

Well played, all the faux innocence and shyness. Sullyoon is a professional, and like a professional she knows how to struggle while not struggling. Gawk gawk, you could go faster and fuck those plump lips, ruin what might look pure but surely isn't. However, you are supposed to have different plans. 

Don't fuck over the director again, so you slow down a bit and coo to Sullyoon who coughs, coughs, coughs, tears in her orbs, the dozen of times you've seen it today alone. Now you have to pretend to care.

"Everything alright, sweetie?" Play with her pink lips. "You are doing great by the way."

"Thanks. I think you can go harder."

Oh no, who would have thought? This is ridiculous, but they don't need to know. They just have to imagine themselves in your shoes, they are actually the one thrusting, filling a virgin mouth with their girth, and the cute girl loves it. She wants them to take her rougher, claim her; the only one claiming her is you.

Bulge her cheek, a slip up perfect for the camera. It moves from her face to her throat where you bulge again and she gurgles. When a mixture of pre-cum, leftover lube and, of course, Sullyoon's sweet spit land on the lens, you have to cover your mouth to muffle your laughs. Those laughs are suddenly moans, when Sullyoon eagerly sucks faster than you can thrust.

"Oh shit~ Would you look at that, she can do it on her own.

"Quick learner."

Feed into the lies one final time, fondle her dark brown hair one final time, hear her gag one final time—time to leave her tender, warm upper cavern for what you know will be warm too.

"Any other tips for the first blowjob?"

Your co-host’s constant interruptions and unnecessary questions have become stale and almost as annoying as his creepy face peeking in the frame from time to time. In their haze, some might not notice, others on the other hand might get annoyed, so you have to show them how to ignore him. Let’s be honest, they are only here for the testing, so you will give them exactly that.

When the following room was pitched to you, you were excited. When the responsible manager told you the actress they’d like to have for this scene, you became ecstatic. One of your favorites in a cozy room, the temperature meticulously adjusted to the point you can’t feel where your skin ends and the air begins. You don’t walk into the room, you melt into it, becoming one with your surroundings.

“It’s a high pleasure to see you again, Hitomi,” you greet, voice exalted and booming. “I hope you're comfortable and equally excited.”

Hitomi grins cutely, the upper row of her flawless teeth shines white like the snow. She has her head turned to watch you over her shoulders. Her petite frame is bare on the floor which is the right amount warmer than the air to keep the coldest feet warm and her body in heat. 

“I came all the way from Japan for my massage,” she giggles and you lean down to kiss her. Straight on the lips, dive to the cheek, then back on the lips. The two of you have a perfect understanding of the others preferences, so there is nothing that can go wrong. Hitomi is smooth sailing, every part of her body is a feast for your eyes, and you can’t help but show her off. 

“Show me your abs again, please,” you whisper. Hitomi hushes you with a motion, her arms around your nape, her tongue on your lips, her body easy to lift up from the ground. When the short girl is on her feet, you turn her nude body to the camera. Wordlessly, your fingers indicate the perfections: hard abs as mountains and valleys for sweat to run over, almost flat tits with hard nipples in a faint pink, the elegantly trimmed bush above her tight innie. 

“Magnificent, absolutely astonishing.” Your ravishing compliments are cut short by Hitomi getting back into her initial prone position.

“Thank you a lot, darling, but I thought you were here to test me.

“Put it in, pretty please~?”

The significantly shorter japanese girl can grab you and throw you like a ragdoll from one fever dream into the next; you don’t oppose it, you long for it. The way her tiny butt wraps around your enormous length, the way she squeals at first, just to fall into bliss and moan like a cockslut, it’s what you would call greatness. 

Things get even greater when your blurry vision finds the two purple braids on Hitomi’s head. They bounce in the same rhythm as she does, as you do, and with a simple tug they stop. Hitomi gasps, the unexpected pain scaring her. You quickly let go of them, apologetically fucking her asshole faster.

“D-don’t let go. Hold them, pull them!"

Hitomi's chest rises from the ground, her screams not muffled from the heated floor and instead sent to the ceiling. The more your fingers entwine with the braids, the tighter she becomes. This is new, something fresh for your friends-with-benefits relationship. Things will never get boring with Hitomi.

"Her snug hole is good, fuck."

Spread her ass cheeks, spread her legs for the camera to film the penetration. The soft skin tries to milk you, pull you back in and you gladly surrender to another slam, followed by another, and another. 

"This is the best!" Hitomi groans, the only not obscene words in between all her grunts and groans.

"Fuck, it is. The floor, this ass, y-you're too good, I'm so close."

"Time to fulfill your promise." That was not Hitomi’s voice. Who the hell—

"N-Nayeon?!"

Out of nowhere, Nayeon wraps her arm around your throat and forces you to pull out. Your throbbing, swollen, burning cock is about to burst, which is why Nayeon does not waste a second. She gets in position right next to a trembling, sulking Hitomi. Your crotch instinctively turns towards her face, that stupidly gorgeous, slutty face. Her tongue hangs from her lips and like a mindless maniac she jerks you off.

Pain, so much pain. This is what some artists were talking about. Pain and painting are eerily similar, Nayeon's pale face and an empty canvas too. From her temple hidden behind thin strands of gold hair to her pointy chin, your paint brush erupts the watery-white color on her, but as expected, she does not stop there. 

Nayeon rubs your cock from side to side, smearing her entire gleeful face until your knees give out and you stumble backwards into the awaiting arms of a staff member. It's out of the camera's point of view, so luckily the footage isn't ruined by your ugly, breathless expression, though Nayeon's game is not yet over.

"Thank you for keeping your promise~"

"What, what pro-mise?" you stutter.

"Don't you remember?" Nayeon pouts. "Last time you creamed my pussy and afterwards told me you'd have some for my face soon. Does ‘Beverly Hills mansion’ ring a bell?"

"Ah… I guess… yeah."

She is oblivious to you dying under her semen-glazed nose. You know she is not the last, there is still a way to go until you can finally rest, but how? It's impossible, you can barely move, your loins are on fire, your mouth is dry—

A bucket of cold water. Dunk your head in it, lap some of the life-saving elixir, cool off the roaring fire on your skin. A close call, Nayeon made you go up in flames and she is ready to do it again. Your eyes have been purified by the clean water, just for Nayeon to dirty them again. She collects some of your seed from her soft features with two fingers and quickly shoves them into Hitomi’s ass. The japanese girl whimpers when Nayeon doesn’t stop drilling it deep down.

“U-unnie~!”

The way she smacks Hitomi’s ass with the back of her hand while blowing bubbles with the cum dripping into her mouth is a dagger. Your mind goes blank. Someone somehow shoves a blue pill in your mouth. The camera is oblivious to what you do, still focusing on Nayeon. She fingers, she licks, she hums, all for the fans, all for Hitomi to not go without her fair share of pleasure. 

In the hallway is a table. Two members of staff sprint away when you sprint towards it, eager to test the extraordinary effects of the pill. They have just brought in the table, unfortunately the test object is still missing. She is still backstage, still on her phone, still dressed for crying out loud. Step through wires and confused stylists, slap the phone out of her hand, she yelps.

“Hey, what are you—wait, huh?”

A perk of your Asia Tour: all the girls are small and light. The same goes for this one, you easily pick her up and place her down on the table. Her hips instinctively rise up, you can unbuckle her belt and get rid of her gray denim shorts. 

“Okay what the fuck is this?” you growl at her and reach in between the voluptuous buttocks and pull at a red thong.

“I thought you’d like it,” the girl sulks and wiggles her trunk seductively.

“I’d like it if it was the same color as this.”

‘This’ is Chaeryeong’s ass. ‘This’ gets a harsh spank that wakes up the camera crew from their Nayeon-Hitomi-induced trance. They run over to film Chaeryeon’s blissful face as you beat her ass violently, changing up your hands and targets until it’s red all over. Not necessarily the crimson red of her thong, but it will do. Pull it aside to find her desperate, delicious-looking hole, begging to be stretched. 

Chaeryeong’s dazed eyes shoot wide open when you widen the circumference of her ring with your cock, hammering away with the same unrelenting force you hit her ass with. The table creaks and sways, definitely not made for this, but for the sake of science you won’t stop turning it into plywood.

“Stupid bitch with a fat ass!”

That was her scream, and she is goddamn right. Every moan by Chaeryeong and every gasp from behind the scenes further encourages you to break through. Don’t worry about her butt, it’s thorough usage can be seen in all kinds of amateur and professional videos. Don’t worry about the table either, you're just testing its durability. When the first wooden leg begins to splinter, you know it’s over.

“Verdict,” you growl through gritted teeth grinding the great depths of Chaeryeong’s rectum. “An absolute failure.”

“Yes!” she screams, holding onto the table’s edge for fake stability. “I’m useless, just a trunky butt for people to breed!”

“No, not you, the damn tabl—”

Right on que, the wooden structure breaks in two, three, more and more pieces. At this point you might as well beat Chaeryeong’s ass on the marble floor, it’s natural coldness could heal the sore parts a bit. She seems to be the person who is the most opposed to this however. Her hole sucks you back in, telling you to annihilate it and Chaeryeong’s vocal cords until the next scene starts.

“Don’t stop hitting it, I deserve it!” Chaeryeong babbles. “Break me like the table!”

You find yourself in a dilemma: On one hand you could do this all day, the continuous pump and smack, on the other hand you fear for both your and her health. Your hands and her ass have the same burning red color, they need a rest, some distance from each other. The clacks of plastic shoes save you from this addictive, yet dangerous session.

“Enough Chaery—” Sakura complains in a stern, sexy voice. “—more cherry.”

You watch intently as Sakura gets in position. You did not notice her carrying a glass bowl of fresh cherries as well as a bottle of spray cream, both of which she places down before her. In the crouching position, her pink miniskirt made of wool hugs her slender body perfectly, the checkered crop-top meanwhile forms a contrast as it makes her chest look extra big with its bagginess. 

Sakura reaches for two of the cherries, fully ignoring you approaching her and leaving behind a mewling Chaeryeong, ready for more. You can’t give the horny brunette more, she had her turn with you, though there seems to be someone willing to relieve her remaining horniness. 

“Hold still.”

Tiffany. Where did she come from? She must have teleported behind Chaeryeong, pushing aside some of the rubble to get her face up close with the younger girl's ass. She puts her nose on the gaped hole and accompanies her tongue brushing over Chaeryeong’s slit with an echoing slap to her bottom.

“Hey, keep your eyes on me!” Sakura angrily whispers, but it’s hard to oblige her. To get you back into the scene, she has to go all out. Both cherries find their way to her sweet lips. They have a very similar, though be it a bit darker color, and they engulf the fruits. Sakura pulls off the stems, then roughly pulls your cock closer to her mouth. 

You surrender to her idea. The woman in her legendary golden hair is well-known to take the lead. After some adjusting, you find your tip disappearing into Sakura’s mouth, her cheeks bulging from the inside thanks to the cherries resting in each of them. You feel the firm skin of the fruits press down on the sides of your member, an astonishingly different sensation from everything that happened before. 

“Oh fuck,” you groan in bliss.

“Oh fuck!” Chaeryeong screams in lust. You can’t help but turn your head and look over your shoulder as Tiffany rams a strapon into her Dongsaengs awaiting butthole. 

Sakura’s hands reach for your butt, mercilessly digging her nails into the skin and forcing you further down her throat. You meet her angry, tearfilled orbs as she gags on your erection. Throw your head back. The cherries have your base in a tight choke-hold, sort of like a cock ring. 

“F-fuck, I’m sorry, Sa-Sakura,” you apologize. “I did not know y-you were into foodplay.”

Not only your member, also the two fruits fall out of Sakura’s mouth when she backs off. The heavy coughing does not prevent her from catching them. Full of concern you want to reach down, but suddenly her fingers craze your balls.

“Put them in your mouth and shut up.”

Take the two red, fruity objects and follow her instructions. Sakura pulls up the bottle of spray cream and rapidly shakes it up and down. Something something ‘can you do that to my cock, please?’ but you can’t say that, unless you have a death wish. A few seconds later, Sakura aligns the tip of the bottle with your base and sprays a perfectly straight line of whipped cream up to your tip. It’s freezing cold, you hiss and accidentally bite into the juicy flesh of the cherries.

You have a taste, Sakura has a taste. She slurps the white treat off of your cock, licks up the remnants with a quick deepthroat and immediately goes to repeat the process. This time, your more sensitive underside gets attacked by the coldness of the cream and then the hotness of her mouth and the strong slurps of her lips. You start to chew—hopefully Sakura does not. 

“Delicious. Finally, your dick tastes good.”

“E-excuse me?”

“I said—shut up! Who told you to eat those cherries?”

In her anger, Sakura spills some of the cream on her crop top. 

“Ah fuck. All because of you, you stupid moron!”

“S-sorry…”

Sakura sighs and pops open the two buttons holding the crop top together. The handful of her breast looks ready to be glazed and licked, but instead of her cherry-red nippled you bite on cherry-red cherries.

“At least make yourself useful.”

Sakura opens her mouth wide. She sends lots and lots of white stuff into it; not the kind of white stuff you’d like her to eat, but the way she fills her mouth with whipped cream looks insanely hot. The moment she is finished you put your cock up to the stuffed cavern and fuck into it. 

Like an avalanche, the cream topples down to Sakura’s chest, hitting her nubs, making her squirm. This elegant woman has never looked messier. She is certainly no stranger to weird, chaotic shoots, but never has her mouth been such an overflowing, dirty hole. Sakura chokes up some more when you finally reach the hot back of her throat, launching cream all over your crotch. 

This surely must be the finale, the last scene, because you need to clean up, need to take a break from it all. The final shot of Sakura’s face as you groan her name should be enough, an excellent fit for a thumbnail. It alone would sell a hundred-thousand copies, therefore no need for anymore, just please say cut!

“Here, you’ll need it.” Your co-host hands you a couple of wet wipes.

“What for?” you respond, the mask of acting not on your face, just exhaustion.

“The next test, of course.” He points to the far end of the hallway, the room next to the mirrors. “There is one more bed, one more person, I think you remember her?

“It was your idea, after all.”

“Mina.”

A nod. 

“Clean yourself, would be a pain in the ass for her if you didn’t, hehe.”

You might not have any other choice, but he definitely could have worded that better or not at all. However, it’s probably not on camera anyways because everyone’s eyes have switched back to Tiffany and Chaeryeong. The older has one leg of the younger on her shoulder while roughly penetrating the tight hole in a standing position. Chaeryeong’s sticky hands try to balance her numb body on the wall behind her, leaving her more vulnerable to the thrusts and consequentially, screaming louder than ever.

This is your chance to sneak away, and you take it. The best for your spent, hurt cock would be to flee the set altogether, but with only one more girl remaining, separating you from glory and a sweet, sweet paycheck, you decide to get it over with. In Mina’s room, the smell of a freshly washed bed and of a rose petal perfume pulls the brakes on your hastiness. You come to a halt, in awe at what’s before you.

“Hey~” Mina coos when she lifts her gorgeous face from the white sheets in which it was buried. She stretches her arms out and you see her eye-lashes flutter quickly.

“Have you been sleeping?” you ask her with a chuckle.

“Just dozing. Believe it or not, this bed is probably the best I have ever laid in.”

Inch closer and lean down to her face as Mina bites her lips and tugs away the blonde, no, golden hair behind her cute ears. Though it’s just as bright as the pillows, blankets and the metal frame of the bed, her hair still has the biggest contrast to it all. Mina’s pale skin and white, oversized shirt camouflage her very well. 

“I’d love to make a cringe joke out of what you just said, but to be honest, I don’t want to hear them anymore. It’s been a long day.”

“Aw, I really wanted you to follow it up with the ‘get laid’, but nevermind. Where is the camera?”

“It will be here in a second. We should get ready—only if you are really, really certain, one-hundred percent positive though.”

Mina rolls her eyes and rubs your abs tenderly, gasping at the sweat and the remnants of other liquids on them.

“You sound like your manager. I signed the papers, all the agreements and contracts and the other bullshit. Usually, boys don’t ask ten times before they go for it.”

“Understandable, with that ass of yours.”

“I knew you’d get it.” 

Mina pulls the hem of her shirt up to expose her round, juicy ass to you. Reach over to it and fondle it while you walk around the bed behind her. Hasty steps echo through the hallway, the crew must be on their way. In the last seconds of uninterrupted intimacy, you nuzzle down to Mina’s ear while your cock is already trapped in between her cheeks. 

“Congrats on debuting. Everyone will see that your pure-looking face and bubble-butt were made for porn.”

Your final growl leaves Mina trembling, her ass jiggles, her orbs find the lense of an unsteady camera peeking through the door. Triumphantly, you wave the cameraman over to you. He takes deep breaths, keeps the camera focused on Mina’s body, so you can start the final testing session.

“We’ve seen so much today,” you announce with your best impression of a CEO giving a year-end speech. “Too many crazy ideas, crazy girls—it’s time to get back to the fundamentals. A bed, simple and comfortable and a woman, pretty and horny. Nothing more,—”

You spread Mina’s cheeks apart, spit on the beautiful tight ring and find the perfect angle to get inside her. 

“—nothing less.”

Repeat what you have done fourteen damn times today. You can use flattering words, exquisite or humorous remarks, suddenness or gracefulness, in the end it’s all hard buttfucking. They are here for it, seeing a huge ass ripple, a beautiful girl moan, a cock move in and out—as long as the neuron activation hits, they won’t be able to resist it. 

“Isn’t she the one and only acceptable pick for this bed?” you ask the audience as Mina’s ecstatic moans bounce off the walls. “The right color scheme, the same scent, similar addictiveness to use it—her—every night. Only the sheets have to get a bit more ruffled like her hair.”

Your fingers run through Mina’s angelice locks, making her raise her chin high towards the viewer's point of view. She is looking right into their soul, their tired, horny, blissful eyes of envy and adoration, whatever is left of them. They don’t need to be inside her tight ass, she can wring them dry with her allure alone. 

“How do you like your first on-cam cock, Mina?”

“It’s big—it’s so damn good, fuck.”

Grab Mina’s slutty little waist and pick up the pace. She digs her teeth into the sheets to muffle the loud noises from her mouth for whatever reason—it’s an amateur mistake. Everyone is too focused on her bottom anyways, especially you as your testing of her depth continues with a new-found final spurt of stamina. 

“The platonic ideal for a non-platonic relationship; a good fucking bed for a good fucking.” Your voice cracks, falls silent afterwards. The last seconds are nothing but pants and firm claps of skin on skin. Mina’s eyes roll into the back of her head, her slit leaks juices onto the bed. Thrusts, pumps, twitches, it all comes to an end in a gaping hole whose neediness mirrors that of Chaewon’s, Chaeryeon’s, Hitomi’s…

There you go. You did it, you fucking bastard. Fall unconscious as the director shouts ‘cut’, your life has to end right on cue. It’s ironic, the audience will only notice you throughout the video; what happens afterwards is irrelevant. You are basically dead. 

You are basically dead—unless some of the porn sites freeze and the poor, horny soul has to stare at it forever until regretfully smashing their device to bits, never daring to repair it. Oh no, they might have to admit to watching porn to some random repairman, how scandalous. 

You are scandalous, holding onto a pillow at night, wishing for someone to be there for more than mere sex. Although you love doing it and could do it all the time, there is no love in it. Even a robotic, seemingly heartless sex machine like you wants some love, some cuddles, some kisses—

“Where is this pretentious buffoon?”

“Yeah, I want to beat his ass as well; idiot thinks he can just cum on me and leave, ts.”

“I’ll put him out of his misery after the two of you are done.”

Three women stand in the frame of the door. Befitting of her character, Wonyoung was the first to speak to you and is currently the first to climb onto the bed. Her thin body is once again wrapped in the black suit, but her fabulous legs are on full display and kick you down into the mattress as she towers over you.

The second to speak was Seungyeon, who utters more and more complaints while getting closer to the bed until Wonyoung hushes her with a deadly glare. From then on, Seungyeon focuses on showing you her reserved anger in a different way: she uses both hands to press your chest down and immobilize you fully. 

The last to speak was Tiffany. She pays you no mind, instead sitting down next to the still dazed Mina and carefully pats the younger’s head. Strange, she is never this wholesome with you, but with a newbie like Mina it’s no problem? Maybe she really wants to put you out of your misery today.

“Wh-what is happening?” Mina asks, utterly confused as she watches you staring at Seungyeon’s bare tits swinging right over your face. “I thought the shoot was over.”

“Oh it is, sweetie,” Tiffany smiles, while Wonyoung goes to stroke your dick with both her hands and slowly crouches down towards it. “We are just testing.”

“Testing what?”

“Testing when this imbicel’s heart will stop from cumming too much.”

“Won-Wonyoung, please, no!”

Your plea goes unheard—it’s on tape nonetheless. 

Fin

(A/N3: Thank you for reading this mess!)

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #just testing #male reader insert

[euniexenoblade]

re: egg discourse

i thought it was just people saying that specifically making jokes about someone being trans but not knowing it yet can be kinda invalidating and sometimes traumatic. are people actually saying you should never tell someone that they might be trans?

i dont really have a side in the debate it just feels like people are willfully misunderstanding eachother and its making my brain hurt

"making jokes about someone being trans but not knowing it yet can be kinda invalidating and sometimes traumatic"

Sure, but it also isn't for a lot of people. And, a lot of people I talk to say egg jokes helped them realize who they were. Though I do think part of this resistance to an egg joke is actually internalized transphobia at points (the idea of being compared to trans people is being treated as degrading in a lot of these people's arguments) the truth of the matter is different people need and want different things. Me making eggs jokes with my friends is not your friend group.

This is why the recurring complaint of our side is it's never egg jokes can make people uncomfortable, 'make sure your friends are cool with them before just doing them,' it's always complaining about trans women forcing cis men to be women or trans women being "transvestigators" or "similar to Christian missionaries." People who are uncomfortable with egg jokes are always projecting their discomfort onto other people, other friend groups, and portray harmless fun between friends as something abusive.

Like for example,

this is a projection. the egg jokes people are talking about happen among friends and stuff, but this person is doing a whole "never make egg jokes because people did it about me and made me feel bad" (oh woe is you, people thought you might be transgender, how disgusting to be a tranny). The majority of egg jokes are not about random ass people, it's within friend groups. And, if you don't like your friends saying them, tell them to stop. If they don't? Then stop being their friends. Also from that post

The underwater filter butchered that. I know you can't read it but I wanted to post it cuz fucking look at that. What the hell. Anyways,

This opposition to egg joke people always talk about strangers. As if we're walking up to random people on the street and making egg jokes about them. It's mostly contained to friend groups. This is just an inaccurate portrayal of what's actually being discussed, and I'm sure the op will be like "I'm talking about my experience!" but OP openly admitted that this rant was relevant to a random blogger complaining about an egg tweet a woman made about her own friend group that neither this OP or that blogger are part of. They are actually dictating how strangers are allowed to act and identify with this, not the egg jokesters.

Yeah, once and a while you get shit like "Aaron Bushnell seems transfem" which was a completely innocuous convo that no one would have seen if well known transmisogynists who accuse random trans women of pedophilia like three times a year hadn't found the post. It was a trans woman seeing herself in someone important in history, and even if someone said something inappropriate, the backlash was undeserved. Yall say embarrassing shit all the time and no one's running you off the web site for it.

I'm sorry this person and others seem to have a bad time with egg jokes (though most of the time, what they describe isn't egg jokes but that's a whole other thing), but their few experiences can not be used to determine a blanket response to something so many people actually do enjoy and find useful. I'm especially not gonna take a cis person's opinions on egg jokes seriously (since so many have seemed to gotten involved and think their opinion on this matters).

"are people actually saying you should never tell someone that they might be trans?"

Yes! That's like, the entire underlying premise of this! Like, 100% this is the backbone of every anti-egg joke argument. That's the entire concept of "egg prime directive." And, it's overwhelmingly weaponized against trying to help transfems realize themselves sooner than they would. From the aforementioned Bushnell drama, to the polls where a shit ton of transmascs voted it was ok to tell an eggy friend they might be a trans man but NOT ok to tell an eggy friend they might be a trans woman, to the newest drama where chongoblog whined about a random trans woman on twitter making egg jokes about her friend (which it was later revealed chongoblog misrepresented the tweet), the anti egg joke committee / "You can't tell anyone they're trans!!!" crew are always wielding this ideology against transfems / trans women but practically never against transmascs.

This is why it's constantly said that these posts and arguments are transmisogynistic in nature. "I'm a trans woman and I say eggs jokes are bad, so it can't be transmisogynistic you're just using that as a shield!" That's great but 1) maybe read between the lines, or read the criticisms you're clearly ignoring and maybe you'll see these people don't respect you 2) the whole "using transmisogyny as a shield" is like, classic transmisogyny at this point. We've been hearing that from anti-feminists, cryptoterfs, and trans woman hating google doc writers for a few years now and 3) you being complicit doesn't mean we gotta care about what you say.

"it just feels like people are willfully misunderstanding eachother and its making my brain hurt"

Oh, I'm sure this is absolutely the case. The problem is a bunch of transphobes are really who spurred a lot of this drama up earlier this year and instead of people thinking "oh these people have bad intentions I shouldn't boost this" they instead were like "Yeah! I don't like egg jokes!" and now we have to deal with trans women making egg jokes (normal, harmless, pro-trans and literally want to help trans people) being compared to transvestigators (a literal anti-trans hate group thing). The issue is people aren't treating us as people, and thus it gets returned in kind.

What's the answer to this? Mutual understanding that "some people need to be told they're trans," "some people don't respond well to being told who they are," "egg jokes can help people and be a fun joke for friends," and "some people are uncomfortable with egg jokes" can all coexist. But, honestly, I don't think we'll ever get there.

#and final note: this is not hostile to the asker #it's just me finally dissecting the disk horse instead of being a mean dick about it #asks #ranting #egg discourse

[mamayan]

★彡SOFT YANDERE DABI SHORT DRABBLE☆彡

Soft Yandere Dabi x Darling!

Synopsis: You read something that disturbs you greatly, your heart aching and in need of comfort. Your captor is happy to clear up some misunderstandings. (I do not condone any book or author burning, it’s just for the story)

Warnings: Soft NSFW (smut), light yandere themes, cursing, pet names (doll, sweet girl, princess), afab reader, FLUFF, fingering, penetrative sex, mentions of murder, Dabi is not a soft man even if he’s being soft

You didn’t realize you were crying until you tasted your own tears. The pages in your hands slowly blurring as you tried to rationalize with yourself. It’s just a story, fiction, not real. Though, try as you might, your empathetic heart aches with the thought of something so horrid ever happening to you. The main character in your novel, the adventurous and wonderful protagonist, meets a torturous end at the hands of the one they loved most.

Manipulated, used, abused, and left behind like trash.

The first hiccuped sob is a bit loud, as you quickly move to stifle the next. Why this was hitting you so deeply, you truly couldn’t fathom. Maybe it was the thought of him doing it to you. The man in question certainly capable and able of bad deeds like no other, but when it came to you he was always gentle. Even when he claimed he wasn’t, that he was going to be “rough” and “show you who was in charge”, they was empty threats followed by pleasure and loving hands thereafter.

It might be due to your attachment to the series, a different protagonist and antagonist in each book but all set in the same world and slowly intertwining as you near the end. This was the second to last book, but the ending has you struggling to pick up the next. It was just so sad, and the author depicted the emotional and physical pain so well.

You sniffled, putting the book on the night stand and getting up to go get a glass of water from the kitchen. Dabi was gone on mission, and you weren’t sure when he would be back anyhow. It was best to put the TV on and find something to distract yourself.

Is what you thought, but just as you passed the front door, it unlocked and opened to reveal your tall captor dressed in casual street wear. A black torn up hoodie with a white t-shirt underneath, the hood up over his head and a black cotton mask hiding everything but his electric blue eyes. His black jeans with a spiked belt and combat boots were a little muddy, but it wasn’t too unusual since it was the rainy season. He held a plastic shopping bag in his right hand, and the house keys in the left. Both dropped to the ground though, and faster than really should be normal, your face was cradled in his hands as he looked down on you in a panic. Water dripped off his soaked clothing and onto you and the floor below.

“Hey doll, wanna tell me what’s wrong?” It was nearly threatening how he asked it. Especially with his mask covering up a lot of his expression, but you were familiar with the concern in his gaze, despite there being a hint of malice attached too.

“Oh, no it’s nothing important!” The embarrassment of having been caught crying over a story was enough torture, let alone explaining it aloud to a man who could very well laugh at you because of it. The thought of being ridiculed by Dabi left a sour taste in your mouth, and you were eager to change the subject.

“You’re all wet! Let me grab a towelー” When you tried to move away, his grip changed on your face. Instead of the gentle caress a moment ago, he now gripped your jaw and cheeks in one hand, and his atmosphere changed. Despite him being a flame quirk, the chills he could evoke were terrifying. “Try moving away again when I ask you a question, I don’t really feel like punishing you tonight, but if that’s what you want…” He trailed off, and you didn’t need to be told twice.

Maybe it was the tone of voice he used now, or the threat of punishment… even though they were never really punishments in your opinion, but the flood gates opened nonetheless. Your tears were thankfully enough for his irritation to evaporate back into concern, strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you close to lean on him. He smelled like rain and smoke, and a bit spicy. He’d likely been active, but the way he smelled was familiar and comforting. It was no longer a scent which evoked terror in you, instead you melted into his damp embrace.

“Okay, okay, how about this? You go start the shower. Set the temperature just how you like. I’ll be there to join you in a minute, yeah?” His raspy low voice turned soothing, a gentle hand cupping your cheek so he could press his forehead against your own. You felt a shiver run through you, the sick feeling in your gut lessening with his idea. He did always complain about your preferred shower temperature, and the teasing wasn’t lost on you as you sniffed and nodded. Blowing your nose also sounded like a good idea, snot probably on his hoodie already. He gave your head a quick kiss, pushing you in the direction of the bathroom as he moved to shut and lock the door behind him. You followed his order, padding across the floor and onto the tile of the bathroom, the chill traveling up your spine and setting you into motion.

The spray of water hitting your bare skin was uncomfortable at first. You really did just want to curl up in a ball and pretend this all wasn’t happening. You struggled to formulate a better plausible reason for you acting like this, but your mind kept coming up blank.

It was too late, as the bathroom door opened and Dabi entered. The clear glass door hid nothing from his eyes as he smirked and shamelessly watched you for a moment. His face mask was gone, along with his hoodie. He easily stripped off his shirt, his body on display this time for you as he slowly undid his belt. You liked when he did this, put on a show of sorts, even though when he’d first taken you, he hardly ever took his shirt off even when you were intimate. His crude attitude made him come off confident, if not overly, about his looks. You knew better now though, the insecurities his burns and scars carried. You always did your best to turn that around though, to tell and show him how much they amplified his charm and appeal to you. His gaze caught yours as he finally joined you, both of you naked and exposed but the water and tight space seemed to make it less vulnerable.

He wasted little time in grabbed your body wash and soaping you up. His touch teasing and light, riling despite his denial in doing so. Grazing your nipples so innocently, as if he truly is just interested in washing you. Only just barely applying pressure to your clit, and pretending like he hadn’t teased you until you were dripping. “I’m just trying to clean you up doll, and you’re getting off on it?” His tone was mocking, but you could care less as he dipped a finger and then another inside you. The ache in your chest lessened by a new ache in your belly. He’d barely pumped his fingers a few times in you, and you were already close.

“Dabiー”

“Shh… I know. Just come for me, don’t think about anything else. You can do that for me can’t you?” He was behind you, front flush with your back and his hard cock pressed between your ass. Your legs were shaking, arms hooked behind you to hang on as he began teasing your clit too.

It was too much. “Dabi please, I can’t!”

“You don’t really have a choice doll… don’t make me tell you againー fuck, good girl.” You were falling apart in seconds, your pussy drenching his hand and the tension in your belly snapping.

He washed you again, this time methodically. His touch was no longer arousing, more intent on massaging your muscles and loosening the rest of the tension you carried. Though his lips pressed against your own, and he whispered praises in your ear, nothing else took place.

He dried you off, dressed you in one of his shirts, and pushed you towards the bed.

“Now…” he looked serious, climbing onto the bed after you in only a pair of dark boxers. You leaned back, nervous as he took position over you, arms and legs caging you in. “Care to tell me what upset you?” His gaze was daring you to lie, and you were certainly tempted to do so, but you were already drained. He’d hardly been home for half an hour and was crumbling your defenses.

Dabi was nothing if not observant and meticulous when it came to you.

“Something sad happened to the protagonist in my book…” Your tongue dipped out to wet your lips, his eyes tracking every little twitch and movement you made like a predator waiting to strike.

He didn’t speak. His stony expression didn’t give way to the ridicule you expected either. His only indication for you to continue was a slight nod of his head. You chose to settle your stare on his collar bone, easier than meeting his intense gaze. “A-and it, um, it made me sad… I guess? It made me sort of… compare it to u-us. Like, if it happened to me…” Your eyes flicked briefly up to his own before back down again. The confession messy and hardly worth noting, at least in your own opinion.

He grunted, making you look back up as he cocks a brow down at you in his usual mildly condescending attitude. “You think I might do the bad thing that happened in your book to you?” His guess was a bullseye, and it didn’t make you feel good to even paint him in that light. You knew logically he’d never do something so atrocious to you, not if he meant how he felt for you.

But insecurities don’t listen or feed off logic.

He must’ve gotten some non-verbal confirmation from you, because in the next moment he was reaching over the bedside table and grabbing up the offending novel, setting it ablaze right before your eyes. The dust and ashes lightly decorating your torso as you gaped in shock. He grinned, looking pleased as he brushed the remnants of the pages off you. “I don’t read all the books I get you, no point and they don’t really interest me, but I do read their synopsis and spoilers. You think I’d let me friends fuck you?”

You felt the atmosphere getting dangerous as he looked downright feral. A warm hand on your chest pressing you flat on your back into the mattress.

“Think I’d sit back and watch while a bunch of deranged shit bags had their fill of you?” His tone was menacing, hissing out his visible disgust even as he spoke. “This is clearly my fault, isn’t it doll?” You weren’t sure how to answer him, but he laughed when you quickly shook your head. The rhetorical question seeming to lead nowhere good. “No, I think we need to have a revisit to an old lesson. Who you belong to, is me, and me alone, sweet girl.” His hand drags up your chest to your throat where his long fingers encircle it. He doesn’t squeeze hard, but he does place enough pressure for you to feel to dominance he’s displaying. “Have I been to nice with you? Is that why you don’t know the answer to what I’d do if anyone tried to even touch you?” You weren’t able to fully shake your head, so it forced to speak even though it came out strained.

“N-no… I-I’m sorry Dabiー” he cut your apology short by briefly cutting your oxygen.

“Nu-uh doll, we aren’t doing little apologies right now. We’re having open and honest dialogue here.” If he wasn’t currently choking you and pinning you to the bed, maybe you’d believe that. He released his tight grip, going back to gentle pressure as you gasped for air, panting.

“No, we’re going to have a test. If you get at least 80% correct, I’ll pass you. If you don’t however…” he trailed off, looking down at you with mock pity. It made you nervous and excited all at once, and he must’ve noticed the way you squeezed your thighs because he sat up on his knees now. His free hand pressing on your lower abdomen and moving down to your bare cunt under his shirt. “Always so ready for me, aren’t you doll?” You wanted to argue he was always teasing you, that was the true explanation behind your arousal, but it might end whatever was happening so you kept quiet. He trailed a finger up through your folds, your legs spreading wider in invitation for him to do more. He doesn’t though, just softly spreading your arousal over your clit before moving back down to do it again. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. Not even close to what you needed to send you over the edge. Your little whines and pleas would go ignored, Dabi loving edging just as much as he loved overstimulation. Either produced the reaction he truly adored, your body and mind unable to function without him.

“Now… question number oneーpay attention” he sent a sharp slap to your clit that had you jerking and crying out in his hold, “ーwhat is the fastest way to piss me off?” Your poor clit throbbed, but you swallowed and did your best to answer coherently.

“L-lie to you…?” Another slap to your clit had you whining as you dug your heels into the bed to push away from him to little avail. It was the wrong answer.

“Not what you do to piss me off, I mean in general, doll. What’s the quickest way for someone to burn?” He spoke so casually about murder, it barely registered as anything odd to you. You took a moment longer to think about it, and he kindly let you as he returned to teasing your slit.

You shivered, “To hurt me…” you whispered softly, but moaned loudly the next moment when he sank a finger into you. Your head leaned back as he began pumping into you at the perfect pace, curling up even as your hips lifted to meet him. “Good girl…” he murmured, but he was watching the way your tight cunt took his finger.

“Next question.” He chuckled at your whine, clearly you weren’t an eager student. “Who would kill everyone if anything happened to you?” Despite his horrendous words, you couldn’t fathom caring as you felt the coil tightening inside you. “Y-you would, oh there!” You moaned wantonly as he slipped another finger inside and curled them to rub at that perfect spot. The sound of him finger fucking you was erotic and distracting.

“Fuck you’re so wet, I think you like these lessons…” his expression was salacious, and you tightened around him seeing it. He licked his lips, and you knew he was nearing his own limit if the tent in his boxers was any indication.

“Question number three, would I ever fucking let someone else touch you, let alone share you?” You moaned, feeling your orgasm approaching, fingers clenching the sheets in a death grip as you struggled to speak. He was doing it on purpose. Just a little more andー

He slid his fingers out before you could come, “Please!” It was a useless and futile plea.

He laughed, looking so amused as the grip around your neck got tighter and he pushed you back into the mattress. “Answer me sweet girl, or you won’t come again tonight.” It wasn’t a threat, it was a warning, and you knew from experience to take it seriously. He’d edge you the entire night. “N-no! You wouldn’t! You wouldn’t!”

Your fervent answer must’ve satisfied him, or he’d reached his limit. It hardly mattered when his thick cock bumped your clit. The swollen and reddened tip so hot in comparison to the cool metal of his piercings. You couldn’t spread your legs any further, only able to arch your back and beg for him to just fuck you already. He used his hand still wet with your juices to pump his shaft a few times, groaning when he finally did sink his tip into you.

Then he slammed fully inside and had you wailing.

“Fuck yes!” He hissed, gritting his teeth in a savage grin. His free hand now anchored your hip down, as he began a brutal pace of possessiveness and ownership. He was claiming your cunt as he fit every inch of himself inside you. Bullying your poor cervix as his balls slapped against your ass. He knew how to angle his hips to grind into your clit as well in this position, and it had you seeing stars when you came so suddenly.

His rhythm faltered only momentarily when he realized you’d came so quickly, chuckling as his ego soared. “Oh yeah? You love my cock that fucking much, dirty princess?” He wasn’t kind as he fucked you right through your orgasm. He grunted, pulling out of you only to flip you on your stomach and yank your ass up to fill you again from behind. It was a whole new stretch and pressure that had you noisily crying out as he pressed your face into the mattress. His chest against your back and vicious thrusts were animalistic but also so intimate. It was grounding as all thoughts left you and you surrendered to just feeling.

He must’ve felt it too, as he leaned back and slowed down to a more manageable pace for you to breathe.

“Last question… who owns this pussy?” It had you shivering, as you quietly managed to choke out his name.

His hand came down on your ass now, both sides smacked painfully. It only made the pleasure intensify as you tightened around his cock, making him moan. “Louder!”

“Dabiー” two more hits landed on your ass, the burning sensation coupled with the perfect way he filled you up had you nearing another orgasm.

“Poor thing,” he mocked, “Am I just fucking you that good? You can’t fucking think now? Who owns this pussy!?” He was already spanking you again as you wailed out your answer.

“You! Dabi! Dabi owns my pussy!” He was fucking you again in earnest and it only threw you over the edge again as you came on his cock for the second time. Both hands on your hips to rip you back on his cock as he bounced you off. Your head was spinning as you babbled nonsense, unable to keep your chest up as your arms gave out. He was chasing his own finish now though, roughly fucking you down into the mattress as you finally felt him say your name lowly and his hot cum fill you up.

You stayed like that for a minute or so as you both worked to catch your breath. As always though, Dabi recovered quicker as he lazily slid out of your twitching cunt now dripping his white hot load out and onto the bed. He reached out to spread you wider, a closer view to watch it run out of you. Then he used one hand to catch it, this time pushing it back inside of you and causing you to whine at the contact to your sore cunt.

“Dabi…” his name on your lips hoarse.

“I know, doll. Tired?” He asked so sweetly while still fucking his come back inside you.

“Yes…” he only hummed, finally losing interest as he helped you onto your back and kissed your tear stained cheek.

“You feel better?” His eyes were gentle and face relaxed as he began drawing mindless patterns across your face with the tip of his thumb. The soothing action had you blinking tiredly. You only nodded, a soft smile on your lips as the earlier ache and worry disappeared.

You should’ve known better. This man was a lunatic and out of his mind, your fears were unfounded.

“Good. Go to sleep, I’ll clean you up.”

When you’d finally drifted off to sleep, Dabi cleaned himself up and got dressed.

He had an author to burn alongside the book after all.

#x reader #bnha #dabi #mdni #18+ #18+ please #drabble #soft dabi #soft yandere dabi #yandere dabi #dark themes #please read my warnings #smut #dabi x reader #yandere dabi x reader #yandere dabi x reader smut

[grandlinedreams]

Maybe if you have the time, you said you liked writing Ace, so perhaps something along the lines of 👉🏻👈🏻 Ace x StrawHat!Reader? Make it lighthearted? I’ve just gotten to episode 93 in my first OP watch, sorry I don’t have much information to give in this request. Also I’m so proud of you and you’re writing is 💚💚💚💚

Absolutely I can my baby 🥺 sorry it took me so long to get to this gkfj

[Heads up!: strawhat!reader, light fluff, set during Alabasta arc]

Meeting Luffy's older brother is definitely not something you'd expected when coming to this country ㅡ but as things tend to do when Luffy is involved, it doesn't take long for everything to dissolve into chaos. But now you're back aboard the ship, plus one expected person.

You do your best not to stare at the man seated at the table, knowing that it's rude to do so ㅡ but he's a far cry from how Luffy behaves.

Afraid of being caught staring, you end up heading back out onto the deck of the Merry, listening to Luffy, Chopper and Usopp giggle about something.

"Is something wrong?" Ace's voice from behind you makes you jolt, turning to find him approaching you. "You were staring at me pretty hard earlier."

Your cheeks color. "No, I just ㅡ for brothers, you and Luffy sure don't act very similar."

Ace blinks. "No, I guess we don't."

He takes the space next to you against the railing, not so close that you touch, but enough you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. Having eaten the mera mera no mi, you suppose it's to be expected that he'd run warm.

"If you're worried about Luffy," you say quietly as you stare out at the sunlit waves, "I wouldn't. He might be eccentric for a captain, but we're glad to have him."

Ace stares at you in surprise, taking in your words before his expression softens. "I'm not going to say I wasn't worried at first," he says, "but looking at this crew...he has good people on his side. You included."

You smile at the soft praise. "I'm glad to be part of it." You turn away from the railing. "I know you said that you have business here, but we're glad to have you with us for as long as you are."

Again, there's a look of surprise on Ace's face before he grins. "Me too."

#ㅡmine. #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ㅡanswered. #ㅡgrandline friends!