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heartpiratedrabbles · 3 months

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His Hat

Prompt: Courtesy of @tsunderedonut: Imagine Law putting his hat on his shy, vulnerable S/O that's riding him for the first time.

NSFW

Trafalgar Law X Reader

You have confidence. You’re courageous. You weren’t self-conscience at all. When it came to your job. Being a mechanic for the Polar Tang was like a dream job for you. You stayed in the boiler room watching levels go up and down and you knew exactly how to fix any leaks or breaks that came about. You were ecstatic when the Surgeon of Death came to your shore so long-ago needing repairs and just so happened to see you’re value onboard the ship after fixing everything, eagerly packing your bags to join the crew.

You were not, however, prepared for love. Despite being on the world for over 2 decades, you had only gone on one hap-hazard date that your friend had set you up on, and needless to say it ended up awful. The man flirted with your roommate right in front of you, and despite your naivety, even you knew what he was doing. Plus, with a few undesirable stalkers here and there, you decided dating wasn’t for you. And so, your short, non-existing love life had come to an end.

That is until you joined the Heart Pirates. After getting to know everyone on board you realized your feelings for your captain burned like a wild fire. It was dangerous and weird, being completely new territory compared to what you have felt before. At first you had thought it was some ship-madness, you were warned by your captain/doctor when you arrived that it could take a while to get use to life on a submarine, even more so when they rarely surfaced. But as you went about your duties and getting to know the crew, you realized that your heart never beat that fast around the others, even so you tried to deny such feelings.

You got close to Penguin as he often came to the boiler room for menial tasks and found more out about, your captain. Despite his cold, non-caring demeanor, he always made sure everyone was alright. And although he didn’t show it, he did enjoy the antics played by the crew. Although he demanded his alone time, he was just as often to be found in the rec-room watching as others drank or played a game. Penguin also clued you in that once a month Law joined in on any game of the crews picking to stay connected.

And it wasn’t until you were drinking alongside Penguin, that he confronted you, “So you like Law huh?” He chattered out after taking a swig of his glass. You choked on what you were drinking, nearly spitting it out at his words, your face turning the brightest shade of red he had ever seen. “Jeez, blush any harder and the rest of your body won’t have any blood,” He had laughed out at your reaction.

“What?!?” You practically yelled at him, you felt your body stiffen at the thought and you could hear Shachi in the background ask if Penguin was bullying you. “I don’t like anyone. Never have,” You tried to reason taking the last swig of your drink, you didn’t know the feelings of love. The uncomfortable, painful feelings of unrequited love that made you dumb in the mind and weak in your knees, stomach slightly queasy at the thought of someone.

“Please, you only pay attention to my ramblings when I’m talking about him. No need to be shy Y/N,” Penguin grinned out before reaching over to fill your glass up again, “Just relax. Feelings aren’t going to hurt you.” You looked around to see if anyone else was listening in but other than Shachi glancing at you two from across the room, everyone else seemed occupied.

The thought of sharing your life with someone, with Law of all people, everything from the simple hand holding to the fantasies of sharing a bed, going on small dates and being marked in one way or another. You shake your head violently to get rid of such things before downing your entire glass. “There’s no way Penguin.” You squeaked out not making eye contact with him.

“Denile will get you no where Y/N. Just accept it, I didn’t realize you were such a virgin when it came to matters of the heart,” He laughed at your misery, and how your eyes fixed on a portion of the table in front of you.

“I don’t have feelings Penguin! Feelings are messy squishy things that don’t make sense. I’m not stupid enough to let something I can’t control distract me from my life,” You pipe out quickly, grabbing the bottle from the man’s hands to take another swig. He smirked at you, unconvinced of your words, “Just because I sometimes think about him doesn’t mean anything!” You immediately stop, eyes wide as you look at Penguin, whose smirk has turned into a full toothed grin.

“You’re right! Feelings don’t make sense. But you can’t stop them from happening,” He gleefully said, “Excuse me one second.” You watch as he stood up, “You owe me 20 Berries Shachi!” He yelled across the room while walking over to the grumbling crewmember.

You slam your head against the table with a ‘thud’. Feelings. Sure, you imagined how it would feel like to have the captain by your side, to be able to capture his eyes and keep him for yourself. You held your breathe at such thoughts, that could never happen. Hiding your face in your arms, you heard Penguin return to his seat but you couldn’t look at him.

Over the next couple of weeks, the pair would make quips and remarks of your crush if you were alone with them, instantly making you freeze like an ice cube. The prodding from them had made your feelings all the more evident to yourself and it had made it harder and harder to bury such fuzzy emotions. You weren’t the most social of person, but now you found it harder than ever to talk to anyone, the embarrassment and fear of them finding out about your unrequited feelings being too much for you to bear. The only time you’d be able to speak confidently is if it was about work, it was easy to avoid emotions when you had to think in facts and bury them with work.

That is, until you noticed a particularly important part starting to show signs of breaking. Best to take care of it now than be in trouble later, you headed to your Captains office for approval to buy the new part. He hadn’t been expecting you but happily let you into his quiet office. You stood in front of his desk explaining the issue and how it’d be better to replace it now and he seemed to agree.

But as you turned to leave, he called out, “Y/N-ya,” you stopped in your tracks. Had one of your maintenance reports not been up to par? You’re back still turned to him your mind was reeling at what you could have messed up but you were certain there was no way you would turn in half-assed work. And then, your mind suddenly stopped. Realizing where you were, who you were talking to. Your heart beating faster, cheeks turning slightly red. “I’ve noticed you’ve been avoiding me recently,” Law’s voice rang out in the room, his smooth deep voice, addressing you and not something to do with your job. “Did I do something wrong?”

You pick your head up slightly at the last sentence, snapping around to face him head on, frantically trying to reassure that it has nothing to do with him, “I just haven’t been feeling well-“ You quickly pipe out not thinking of anything else as you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

Law perks up at your sudden excuse, immediately standing up, taking long strides to get to you quickly. A hand immediately going to your forehead, freezing at the sudden contact you feel your cheeks burn up, “You do seem to have a fever,” He muttered to himself before activating his powers to transport the both of you to the med bay. “Sit down real quick,” He demanded as he went to grab a stethoscope.

It was hard to breathe. Here you were with a stupid school-girl crush, making your Captain worried over nothing. Yet you couldn’t quite seem to find the right words, trying to push off your illness as a quick thing that’d be gone soon. But Law would hear none of it. Quickly he listened to your heart, asking you to breathe in and out as you whine out that it’s truly nothing. It’s not until he places a hand on your back to keep you from shying away that he realized your heart beating faster at his own touch.

He quickly glanced up at your face, that you were desperately trying to hide from him by staring at the far corner away from him. “Are you truly unwell Y/N-ya?” He firmly asked, demanding a truthful answer.

And just like that your Captain found out your feelings for him. You rushed to your room the second you felt his touch leave you to ignore the rejection you refused to hear. And it wasn’t until the next day that Law had come to find you of his own accord, asking you out on a date the next time they reached land.

~~~

That was months ago, 6 months to be precise. And ever since you had been dating the man in front of you. You still couldn’t believe it, it felt unreal. “It seems like your mind is elsewhere love,” He leaned up to give you a peck on the lips, gently taking your hands in his.

You had decided to try and be forward yourself this time round, and couldn’t help but feeling like backing out now. You had certainly had sex before but it was never like this, not when the lights were still on, not when you could see his reactions. The simple fact sending your head reeling at how hot Law was underneath you.

You had lured him back to his room, claiming you needed to talk to him. You had been slightly jealous of how he was talking to a bar maiden on land and immediately confronted him, only now losing your nerve. The second he stepped into the room you had slammed the door shut and pushed him on the bed, straddling him before you were going to ride him. But the second you got on top of him your mind started working again. This was also the first time you were truly on top of him, looking down at him, seeing how he stared back up at you with heat in his eyes. You cheeks become more red as you avoid his gaze.

“What were you going to do now that we’re alone?” Law smirks while looking at you, no doubt enjoying how flustered you looked. He gripped your hips before jutting his own up into you. You fall forward, the movement snapping you out of your daze.

“I. I was,” You try to stutter out as he lifts your shirt up, and you let him rip it off you, his eyes staring right into you. You look down slightly, still avoiding eye contact, “I was gonna remind you that your mine.” You whisper, embarrassed at the thought now.

Law gleefully shifts, taking off his own shirt in the process, “And how were you going to do that?” He urges you to continue. Law enjoyed watching how flustered you could get, despite dating for a decent amount of time you still couldn’t control yourself in situations where he’s giving you all his attention. Looking down at him, you quickly cover his eyes with one of your hands.

“No looking,” You whine out as you start to get off him, “You have to give me a second.” Law chuckles a bit but goes to move his hat, which had fallen a couple inches away when you pushed him, over his eyes, assuring you he won’t take a peek. After a quick second of making sure he can’t see you, you stand up fully.

You look at the man in front of you before turning around, taking off your pants quickly, glancing over your shoulder just to be sure. Law decides humming will distract him in this situation. Frustrated at your playful boyfriend, you get to work on his pants, him lifting his hips slightly to help you undress him. His cock springing up as you release it from its cloth prison.

Law lets you widen his legs as you kneel between them, stopping just inches away from his dick. You see movement from the corner of your eye and snap your head back up, “No peeking!” You yell out more embarrassed at your own actions than anything else. Law puts his arm back down, deciding to keep quiet for the time being.

You take one more deep breath before you wrap your lips around him. Slowly bobbing your head up and down, covering his member in saliva. The salty taste of his precum making you go insane with desire. Your slow pacing doesn’t seem up to Law’s standards as he bucks his hips forward, making you gag in the process. You place both your hands on his hips to try and control your boyfriend, and while he didn’t stop entirely from pumping his hips towards your head, he was a little gentler.

“Fuck Y/N-ya,” Law groaned out when you sat up, leaving his cock wanting for more. You looked up to make sure he still couldn’t see you and sighed when you saw the hat still in place. Readjusting yourself to now be sitting on him again you could hear him take a sharp breath. His throbbing cock in one hand, aiming it towards your entrance as you sink down on him slowly. It felt completely different than normal. You were in control, and every inch was touching you in places you didn’t think was possible. The pleasure already overwhelming.

You try to hold in your own moan as you sink lower, feeling impossibly full as he bottoms out in you. You sit there for a second, hands on Law’s abs to steady yourself, holding your breath at this new pleasure you’ve discovered before grinding your hips, feeling him deep inside you. You finally remember to breathe after Law decides to thrust up into you, falling forward on his chest as he wraps his arms around you, pinning you to him. You gasp for air, moaning his name as he sets a brutal pace.

“L-Law,” You moan out in frustration and you look up to see him shift his head to peek out from under the hat, with an absolutely devilish grin on his face.

He places a kiss on your forehead, “Yes love?” He thrusts into you again and you wiggle one of your arms free, prying yourself out of his arms to sit back up. Only to be met with another wave of pleasure at the different angle. You mind becoming empty of most thoughts as you hear the man below you chuckle. He reaches up taking his hat and placing it on your head, caressing your body before landing both his hands on your hips. You gasp a bit as he holds you down slightly, feeling him twitching inside you.

With some encouragement from his large hands, you start to ride Law like there’s no tomorrow. Barely being able to breathe yourself as he hits every sensitive part of you. Every now and then stopping to feel how full you feel with him in you. Tears brimming your eyes as your mind is flooded with pleasure and lust.

Laws eyes devour you, savoring every inch as he watches you bounce on him. Your head lulled back and forth; mouth hung open as you scream his name. His hat would be covering your eyes if you hadn’t been continuously pushing it up before going back to steadying yourself on him. The sight before him being a drug he never knew he was addicted too until you had come around. He feels you twitch around him and he stops his own thrusts, gripping your hips to stop you from moving any further.

“Law!” you scream out at the lack of movement, grinding your hips for any friction. He smirks up at you, not responding, watching as you desperately try to bounce despite not being able too. Law slowly raises his hips, holding your hips in the same spot, reaching deeper than before and it begins to feel like it too much. You cry trying to squirm, move, anything to help relieve the pressure that was making you insane. “Please Law,” you beg him to do something.

You can barely see his face underneath you, the hat falling over your eyes, but you’re certain Law has a smirk on his face as he ignores your pleads. Gasping for air you finally fall forward, gripping your boyfriends’ shoulders, “It’s too much- Please Law,” You beg into his chest trying to move even an inch over feeling how deep he is. How you can still feel him twitch slightly inside of you at every moan and plead. Making your mind numb from the overwhelming pleasure and pressure building up.

After a quick second, Law lifts your chin with one of his hands, the other still firmly planted on your hip, “You’re adorable Y/N-ya.” Law whispers it while staring right into your tear stained eyes, kissing you gently before suddenly flipping you over so that you are now on your back. How he stayed inside of you was a mystery but the feeling drove you insane as he hooking both your legs over his shoulders, pounding into you fast and hard.

You try to grip the bed underneath you to stabilize yourself before you looked up to see how Law was looking at you. The insatiable devil in front of you looking directly at all the faces you made as you continued to moan his name. The realization of what he was doing, angling every now and then and licking his lips as you twisted about, he loved watching you. You quickly grab the brim of his hat, pulling it over your face to avoid his gaze.

This brought about 2 different things in this intense moment. One was the immense and heavenly smell of Law’s hair, the shampoo he used that drove you crazy while you played with his hair, and the second being Law leaning forward, your legs still hooked over his shoulders as he continued to ruin you. Crying out as he stole your lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth while adjusting his hat to be properly on your head. “Don’t hide from me,” He growled out in desire before recapturing your lips.

You move your hands to wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss while one hand rakes its way through his hair and the other digging your nails into his back. You could feel your orgasm approaching quickly and you tugged at his hair to release your lips, “Law please. I want you to cum~”

He leans down to leave marks on your neck as you scream out his name, “Are you ready?” He asks one last time into your ears and you can barely reply to him as pleasure is overfilling you. Law quickly following suit, slowing down only after you felt him fill you. The both of you stay there for a second, catching your breaths.

Law’s the first one to move, slowly pulling out and gently putting your legs down, knowing how they were numb at this point. You groan at soreness from being empty but can feel his seed slipping out of you. “This is dangerous,” Law smiles at you from his standing position as you stare at him, still on cloud nine.

“What is?” You mutter out, looking at him from half-lidded eyes.

He leans down close to you, giving a gentle kiss before peppering them down your neck to your collarbone, “You only wearing my hat. It’s absolutely hypnotic.” He breathes into your neck with lust still in his voice.

#One Piece #One Piece X Reader #One Piece Smut #Trafalgar Law #Law X Reader

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dear-ao3 · 8 months

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hello and greetings to all my friends moving into college dorms this time of year!!!

while it is a well known fact that college dorms are often not cleaned at all between people, it is important to tell the administration about things that are absolutely Abysmal.

for example: things that are beyond broken, extremely dirty conditions, clear evidence of vomit/bodily fluids, anything that plain doesn’t work, etc.

to be clear, i am not talking about things that can be fixed with a bottle of clorox wipes, some disinfectant, or a screwdriver. these are things that are either a health hazard or are not in proper working condition.

my credentials on this matter: i was a resident assistant for 2 years. i’ve seen some shit.

here’s what you can do!!!

do not try to talk to anyone in person ESPECIALLY on move in day. all administration that can deal with your problems are probably dealing with bigger problems. move in day is an absolute mess. don’t try and bother res life on move in day unless you physically cannot move into your room for some reason (like there’s a clear cut maintenance problem). you can try to talk to someone, but chances are it won’t get you anywhere other than frustration. it sucks, but that’s the reality of it.

take before and after pictures!!! document everything!!! make sure your pictures are clear, take photos, etc. you will need these. show what you did to clean/fix the problem if necessary.

send a long and detailed email to the following people: the director of residential life, the head of facilities/ building management, the office of accessibility/ student services/whatever it’s called on your campus (even if it is not an accessibility issue usually these people are the fastest to respond), and the college president (often they won’t respond but it gets everyone else’s attention). if applicable you can also send the email to the head of campus safety/security and student health services/ health center). include your photos and make the email as long and detailed as possible. send this email ASAP. you need a paper trail. if you got get a response in three business days send a follow up email and go down to the res life office (often they will say they are busy and no one can speak to you, but sometimes you just have to annoy the crap out of them)

tell your ra. tell them multiple times. a lot of the time they can’t do anything about it, but they can tell their supervisor about it.

keep pestering people until you get an answer. don’t feel bad about it. you should not be paying tuition to live in a shit hole that violates health codes. a lot of the time they can’t move you elsewhere, but the school should still know about the problem.

get your parents involved as a last resort. generally offices hate dealing with parents but if you’ve exhausted all other avenues then go ahead and do it.

i wish you all the best of luck, remember that you are in college to learn and learning how to deal with stubborn administration is definitely one of those things. a little dirt is normal, but sticky carpets, broken glass, broken thermostats, etc, are not. you’re paying to go there, get someone to fix it.

#SINCERELY #someone who has spent 10 hours cleaning her younger sisters college apartment and it is still not clean #my dad rented a carpet cleaner from home depot that’s how bad it was #that is Unacceptable #not a tag #from saph #college life

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vonev · 7 months

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Zombie apocalypse with Simon Riley

Sum: You finally meet your hot neighbor; albeit all it took was an apocalyptic disaster.

Oh my God, what the fuck?

“—reports states that an infectious zombie-like virus has begun to spread amongst multiple areas in the city—”

“—Please seek the nearest hazard shelter in your local area—”

A fucking zombie virus breakout is happening, in front of your lunch.

You'd never thought the national emergency alarms would ever blare during your lifespan, but you're here, a spoon full of egg drop soup in hand sitting across your TV and your mouth hung open as all your devices deafens the entire living room.

The telenovela you were watching was just getting so good too.

Immediately shooting your hand out to fetch your phone, scrambling for the national notification, horror dawns on you.

The fucking breakout is in my city.

Isn't it so lovely? On a random Tuesday afternoon in the middle of an approaching autumn.

What is it that they do in those zombie shows again...? Oh yeah, run.

Wait—no, no. Pack your shit then run.

So you did. Your feet working the fastest they've ever been scattering toward your bedroom to dig out the ancient duffel bag you've not touched in eons. Shoving essentials in there: tampons, pads, your Kindle (because God forbid an apocalypse stops you from finishing a book) and a couple of other things you think you'd need...a thong is one of them, right?

The loud alarms never stops, it only adds to your increasing anxiety threatening to bubble over and spill all over the floor; you didn't think they'd go on for so long, but they do, and honestly they sound fucking terrifying.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Think—

Wallet, passport (in case you wanted to fly over to Milan, you know.), all the money you had was stored inside the bank; speaking of, you wonder if anyone had started robbing stores yet after the alarms sounded.

Nope, can't think about that right now, because the more time you waste, the higher of a chance you'd end up having your face bitten off by some freaks—zombie or not. So you scramble once again, head full of doubts and worry; good thing you kept refraining yourself from ever getting a pet because holy shit having to sprint with a massive fluff ball in your arm would be the last thing you'd want to do.

Just then, screams started filling your ears; an indication that you spent too much time dwindling.

Looking down you scoff at your casual wear: a tank top that exposed too much and sweatpants. Making your way out along your bedroom you snatched a jacket you promised yourself you'd wash last week.

Good thing you didn't, I guess.

Stepping foot into the living room once more, your eyes dart around in a hurry, practically running into the kitchenette to grab canned foods and your leftovers from yesterday. It's just a sandwich, but it'll hopefully last until whenever you can finally eat again. You repeated the same conundrum with your bathroom, frantically pushing things aside with more things to make space for other things.

Alright, you think, that should be everything...

You even got that first-aid kit you bought from Amazon months ago, thinking that someday you'll need it.

Always trust your instincts.

With that, you waste no time scurrying to the front door, fitting yourself into a comfortable pair of shoes then fetching your keys from the bowl above the accent table you probably spent too much money on (they looked really cute) and inserting it into the lock, cursing yourself when you kept missing the keyhole. Eventually, you got it, and with too much brute force, you threw the door open and stepped out into the hall.

You wince from the loud banging sound of the door you pushed; to your right, your neighbor's door opens as you walk out.

Tilting your head, you see the neighbor casually fixing his shoes with absolutely no care regarding the current situation, a bag slung over his broad shoulder in contrast to you desperately holding onto your heavy duffel bag.

What the fuck is his deal? How is he so...calm?

You didn't realize it 'till now, but said neighbor turns his head toward you, and it's as if a lightbulb flare up in your head.

Oh.

He stares at you, unmoving with his hand still on the doorknob.

It's the hot neighbor.

What was his name again? Sam...Samuel...no, Semen...wait, definitely not.

Whatever. You'll call him Semen in your head, because you can't be bothered standing there to recall his name. Not while he's staring at you so intently, either—like you owed him something.

God, is he a sight to look at; full brows with lips looking so kissable with a cute pout, blonde strands covers his front as though he'd just woken up from the best nap of his life, the faint yet noticeable scars littered across his face so perfectly. Tall, mysterious and muscles that threatened the seams of the too-tight shirt he wore. Is he even aware?

And his eyes.

You can't even begin to mention the amount of times you'd shamefully indulged yourself with those eyes of his in your mind—sometimes, you dream of them too. Who could blame you though? Yeah, you definitely feel normal about him. You barely interacted with him, only ever seeing him the rare times he'd come home. You assumed he's ex-military or a military personnel on leave since he's been back home more than usual in the recent months. You wouldn't know, though, considering the most words you said to him was "hi" when he moved into his flat a year ago. That, and you're generally kinda afraid of strangers.

"D'ya have a staring problem?"

Right. You can't just stare at someone and not say anything, that's creepy.

"No," you shuffle on your feet a little. "Do you?"

He scoffs with a small shake of his head and closes the door behind him before walking away to the lift. Your brows furrowed, lips pursed, slung your duffel bag over your shoulder and chased after him. You both stood in front of the lift for a good (incredibly awkward) minute before the familiar ding sounded. Once inside the lift, you can't help but feel the unspoken tension rise as the two of you stood close to each other.

You swear he had his eyes on you for a moment, but you don't dare to call him out.

"...you come ‘round often?"

He snaps his gaze to you instantly.

Great. Your mouth has no filter whatsoever. Mentally slapping yourself, you open your mouth to whisper an apology; he beats you to it, though, a soft chuckle from him and it strikes into your heart like a stake.

"I live—lived here," crossing his arms, his eyes softened a little. "Just got discharged from the military a couple of months ago."

Bingo.

Silently patting your back in your head as you nod at his response and humming. "That's cool, what did you do for the military?" it may have been too much to pry, but it doesn't hurt; plus, it's pretty much the end of the world as you speak.

He stood there, completely rigid from top to bottom. The silence was deafening this time around, so much so that when the lift sounded once more with a loud ding, it made you flinch.

"What didn't I do for the military?"

That's...

"...is that rhetorical?" None of you walked out of the lift, just standing there in each other’s company. Oddly, you don’t mind it.

He shrugs, getting out of the tiny space—and you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in your breath when you finally exhaled through your teeth.

I guess I have my answer.

It doesn’t take long for you to catch up, nor for the two of you to realize what an utter mess the outside world had become when he opens the door.

People roamed about, running ‘round and tripping over each other and on top of each other, cooperating on wreaking absolute havoc on the streets. Lots of screaming, too much of it, in fact. Jogging down the stairs, someone almost bumps into your side, but not before he pulls them back with a frown on his face that had the poor guy screeching and scrambling away from his grip.

Oh, now come to think of it—

—“Hey what’s your n—“

A hoard of groans catches your attention, cutting your words short; you turn toward the source, squinting at the scene from afar. A group of people started dashing toward your way, their faces an evident blur of confusion, surprise and horror. It would make sense, because as they slowly get closer and closer, a giant figure gradually appears in your vision—and it looks fucking disfigured—like the textbook embodiment of an eldritch creature. Sure enough, it breaks out into a sprint, chasing down its next victim; pulling the back of an unfortunate businessman’s suit and it flung the man over its head. You can hear the poor man’s scream echo in your mind as you watch his body fall right into the creature’s mouth; next thing you know, his head snaps off in its jaw.

Your blood runs cold, the shock from seeing such a sight sends an unnerving terror through every nerve; your breathing gets heavier, beads of sweat breaking out from your skin—yet you can’t take your eyes off of it. Ever watched a car crash? Yeah, exactly that.

“Uh oh.”

You don’t know what to do; years and years of medical training in school hadn’t exactly prepared you for this situation, even if some of the things you’ve seen are horror beyond comprehension. Your body doesn’t cooperate with your commands no matter how hard you try; they’re stuck to the ground like glue, and as the horrid looking creature slowly bolts toward your way, the way you’ve become a mere spectator to your body should concern you, but your eyes are transfixed on that thing—

—it wasn’t until someone roughly tug your forearm that you realized you almost fucking killed yourself by standing still too long.

“Fuck, come on, let’s go.”

You should’ve probably questioned why he’s remained so calm despite the calamity surrounding him. It’s an admirable trait, really, a part of you wants to thank him profusely for not leaving you behind; in the span of time you spaced out, he could’ve easily gotten away in a fleet—like a gust of the wind, and you wouldn’t have noticed nor would you have blamed him. So much for being medically trained.

He ran, and you trailed right behind him. Even during such a dire moment of your life, you have to try your hardest to not get distracted with the way his muscles contract as he swiftly moves along with the breeze. No time for thirsting, you stare at his arms, how they effortlessly flex with each step, Okay, maybe a little bit of thirsting.

You’ve no idea how long you both ran; doing your best to dodge every obstacle lunged into your face, but with the soreness slowly creeping up your soles, you wonder if you could keep up—Semen, on the other hand, is doing just fine. Just keep pushing, after all, how hard is it to run forever? Super fucking hard apparently; unfortunate for you, the conveniently placed fallen pipe on the ground became your nemesis as you missed a jump and fall on your fucking face. Your duffel bag cushioning only your left arm, body absorbing all the impact from the fall.

Ouch! wouldn’t even describe the pain you were feeling. You might have a broken nose because it sure fucking feels like it.

Semen immediately halts, his head snaps back as if his gut instinct told him you stumbled and fell. He’d be correct; attempting to get on your elbows can only get you so far, your adrenaline runs out too quickly—and suddenly it feels as though your body has been lit on fire. Well, you’re being dramatic, but your ankle sure doesn’t feel fine like it did a minute ago. You try to stand up, and Semen crouches down in front of you with his hands extending out to help you up; but the harder he pulls the worse you cry out. When you try to move your right ankle it just fucking hurts like a bitch.

This is it, you think; your breath coming out haggard and harsh, I’m gonna fucking die.

“Just—go, just go, I think I sprained my ankle,” holding back furious tears, you sniffle. “Leave me and run, it’s okay.” God, was it ever this hard to let someone go? Even if the selfish part of you wants him to stay. He mumbles something incoherent under his breath, people and vehicles running by your bodies and their cries fill the void in your head—not their fault they prioritize their lives over yours—but it still stings your eyes to think about. People really do show their true colors in the most desperate times.

He reaches over, and you almost swatted his arms away—his stern gaze told you to stop, and you did.

Flipping you over in an instant, his arms hook under your back and knees, hoisting you into his arms as though you weighed nothing. In a feat of panic, you push against his chest; you can’t stress how much you’d rather not be the reason he’s held back and be killed for it. He sends you a final warning look; a stare so chilling it had you reeling back your arms into your chest and obediently lay against his.

Impressively, he maneuvers around everyone else with ease, dodging and zig-zagging, only bumping a few shoulders here and there. Worry clouds your head; what if he trips? Or better yet, what if he realized you’re not much of use and dumped you on the streets? It’s absurd you’d even have the luxury to overthink while he’s busting his ass to save both of your lifes—how the fuck are you supposed to make up to that? You can’t bake him your infamous croissants (you’ve mastered the craft), you doubt appliances are as convenient in the wild as it is in homes—you hope he’ll find a place to hide soon; he can’t run infinitely.

Maybe you should stop thinking too much useless shit and start strategizing instead.

Okay, it should be easy; your eyes frantically search the surrounding area: the alleyway? No, way too risky. Run into one of the homes? Still risky, and those nasty creatures were breaking into them from what you saw last. Fuck, you wish you’d bought that expensive ass car few weeks ago when it was on sale, then again, who knew you would require it so soon? Wait, did he have a car? You don’t think so, his designated parking slot has been empty since forever.

As he kept sprinting on, you noticed more and more of those zombies started pouring in from multiple angles—it would be harder and harder to avoid their attacks; you try not to dwell on the gruesome sights of people being mauled down the streets. Out of nowhere, a mangled arm lunged at you, though he swerved just in time to avoid; you didn’t even have time to register what occurred until you blinked again.

“Was that—holy fuck,” your body involuntarily shivers at how close you were to dying right then; all his efforts would’ve gone to waste. It served as a reminder that death is now only a mere hand reach; one wrong breath and say bye-bye to your life.

Mortality is such a fragile thing.

At least you don’t have a family making you worry to death about, just good ol’ you—always been you.

Does he? Eyes drifting over to his face, you trace the scars on his neck with an invisible hand. You’d have to play 21 questions with him later, if there’s a later. Seeing how things are moving, you’re slowly coming to terms with the concept of death; for some odd reason, you just know he’d keep you alive as long as he can—you will too, with him. God, you grunt, this feels so sappy. You have to constantly remind yourself that you’ve known your neighbor properly for less than an hour; don’t get too attached. It only ever comes back to bite your ass.

In your peripheral you notice a sluggish zombie digging into the driver’s side of a sizable car through the broken window—blood splatters the inside of the car’s windshield as the zombie dives further in. The car is alive, tugging at his shirt, you hastily gesture toward the spot with a shaky finger. Peering up, you don’t miss the way his brows knit together and how his lips are pulled into a thin line—he understood soon afterward; and switched his path to match the direction of the vehicle.

He’d have to fight with the obscene thing for it, but it’s worth a try, even with you in his arms.

Approaching it, he doesn’t hesitate to kick a leg up to hook it under the weighted zombie and throw him down to the biting asphalt; just as it was about to spring up—he stomps a leg over its head without a hitch. Oh my fucking God, excuse your blasphemy, that’s the brain matter. You would know how a human’s brain looked; with countless hours spent plastering your head onto your textbook about How To Surgically Remove a Brain for Dummies the image practically tattooed itself on your mind. It’s never a good view, the textbooks can’t accurately reinvent the feeling of disgusting sliminess into their pages after all.

Your knight in shining armor doesn’t prolong his luck; throwing the driver’s door open, he ducked his head into the driver’s seat (not before chucking the dead body laid in the seat out), sliding you into the passenger side; you have to awkwardly make fit for yourself in the seat as he rushed into his side and pressed down on the brake, slamming his door closed. There was no time to relax, though, upon seeing him toy with the car, people started piling over the trunk, clawing at the metal slate with their bloodied nails as more zombies lurked closer—few unlucky numbers were dragged away from the car, leaving a myriad of gory handprints behind on the trunk.

He grits his teeth, he holds an arm out in front of you; confused, you turned to him as he slammed down on the acceleration.

“Oof—” That’ll knock the wind out of you.

It’s proven to be challenging for him to drive down a road filled with civilians; but soon enough, people started parting ways for him and a few other vehicles to pass through, afraid of being hit by a car.

“Buckle up, love.”

Huh? Love?

On the outside, you’re as calm and cool as you can be: you know, in a zombie apocalypse with your handsome neighbor driving you to (hopefully) safety; the inside…it feels as though your heart soared into the sky—you know it wasn’t meant to be flirtatious, but damn it, a girl can dream. Scrambling your hands to reach for the seatbelt, you grimaced at the sight of gooey matter dotting its material, you buckled up anyway; better safe than sorry. And because he asked so nicely, your heart flutters once more.

He drove on for quite a while, managing to duck and swerve others on the road (albeit with a lot of trouble) and eventually reaching the highways—not that it was far, but you’ve never exactly drove, or been outside your little area. Why would you need to? Everything you’d ever need was there: a delicious shawarma shop across from your flat, embroidery store…in case you needed some embroidering done, a family-owned Indian restaurant that served the best naan and dal—point is, you’ve pretty much got everything covered in your small area.

But why do you feel like you’re missing something…

…your fucking duffel bag.

Everything was in there—your ID’s, necessities, your fucking family photo back when you were a baby; it all holds importance to you one way or another—

—and they’re gone.

Slumped against your seat, you hadn’t even realized your shoulders started convulsing until teardrops fell on your curled fists in your lap. How could you be so fucking careless? Tilting your head down, your hands fly up to rub away stray tears that can’t seem to stop falling from your eyes regardless of your effort; you hope he hasn’t noticed (he did, eyes squinting in worry and unsure) because you seem pretty fucking pathetic right now.

(He doesn’t mind, he’s more worried your tears will drown the both of you before getting to the motel)

“We’re,” for some reason, words get caught in his throat—congealed, like an immovable lump—watching you silently sob to yourself from the side. "We're going to a motel."

He shouldn’t care; he doesn’t know why he does, especially since you’re still a stranger (that he saved, again, he’s not sure why) he coincidentally shared a hallway with for about a year; he barely knew you, either, only knowing you by name because he had seen it stamped on a few mails that fell from your mailbox. He also knows that you bake, a lot, often times the smell would traverse through the small cracks underneath his door and reach his senses—he’d debate knocking on your door each time, he wouldn’t know what to say though: “I smelled your baking, they smell amazing, can I take the whole thing?” or “‘Aye you’re actually kinda fuckin’ cute.”

Yeah, he’s not too good at conversing with strangers either, especially a cute one like you.

And now that you’re sitting right next to him, shoulders no longer heaving as he keeps driving down the vast highway, he’s not so sure what the next move should be. A couple of quick glances let him know that somewhere along the way, you had fallen asleep, head lolled against the window, your chest rising and falling with a silent rhythm. The sun is setting, the warm glow casts down on your figure—you look like an angel.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, of course—but deep down, he knows he’ll keep that image of you and engrave it into the back of his head.

And he knows just the place to take you to.

#angst #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod mwii #ghost cod #simon riley #ghost x you #apocalypse #zombie apocalypse #im having a brainrot yet again #they should kiss kiss fall in love #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty

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vagabond-umlaut · 2 months

Text

it's easy to ferry souls, not carry them

deep down in the realm of the netherworlds, there exists a rower who transports deceased souls from the land of living to the land of dead-

and occasionally lends an ear and a hand, in the event of yet another collision between their weary queen and her just as cheery suitor...

[uraume deserves a raise.]

▸gojo satoru x fem!reader; the tale of kore!gojo & hades!reader w a guest appearance by charon!uraume; uraume is a very nice parental figure to you [ooc!uraume but ehh]; the reader is honestly so sweet and hot-tempered...; the cutest doggy cerberus too is there!!!!; gojo satoru must be his own warning...; uraume does not like gojo [no parent [blood-related or not] actually wld]; fire hazards; 2k wc

▸ i've nvr read percy jackson and wtv i wrote here is based on my shaky knowledge of greek myths and stuff 😁😁 anyways, this header's from pinterest, these dividers are by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls do not plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

▸ belongs to series 'wreaths of asphodel' – same universe as the work 'hey, where is the pomegranate tree?' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

"why is kore so set on marrying me, uraume?"

it isn't the ask itself which causes the rower to nearly lose grip of their oar– but the way it is spoken: soft, solemn and faintly tense. they look away from the endless expanse of the styx before, to find you staring at your reflection in the inky waters, features unnaturally crumpled.

uraume holds back a frown. "has her majesty considered asking the god the same?"

"i have asked him," you mumble, "but i did not receive any conclusive answer in return. the imp was being too vague– must be a trait learnt from those shifty nymphs always sticking to his side."

if your faithful follower detects anything except dislike in your words, they make no mention of it. merely humming as they continue to row the boat, "and may this servant know the question her majesty asked the god?"

"two," you mumble even more clumsily now; they take a beat to grasp it, too concerned by the way you drape yourself over the edge, nearly falling into the water as you say, "i asked him two questions— one, if he loves me; two, if he wants to have children should we get married."

shock must not be uraume's first reaction to these queries, yet it is— and for a moment, it isn't you sitting there anymore.

instead, it is a little girl, no older than seven or eight years, cherubic face fixed in a look of deep concentration and fascination while the rower narrates to her stories from times millennia ago–

only for the child to morph into a young lady– no, goddess– the very next beat... slouched under a regal cloak too heavy for her shoulders, under a royal crown too large for her head... that sweet innocence of childhood nothing but traces now, having been withered by the foul, dirty politics of those damned deities high up on that mountain—

"what answers did the olympian offer her majesty?"

"he said he would love me and sire my children if that is what i want— i asked if he wished anything out of our union— he said all he wanted is to be my husband–"

something between a frustrated sigh and an exhausted scoff erupts from you, becoming an opaque fog the moment it hits the frigid air of the underworld. uraume plucks the oar out the water to come sit next to you, letting the boat be driven by magic.

"you're worried," they state, forgoing all formalities in favour of giving you some much-needed comfort. you never much cared for stations anyways, quite unlike your elder brother, the former king.

"an unfamiliar friend poses more risk than a familiar enemy, uraume," you mutter, resting your head on their shoulder, "why do you think kore wishes to marry me so much, if not out of love or the prospect of the powerful offsprings we might beget?"

"marriage is not solely for love or for procreation," the rower starts to explain, mildly amused before it grows into sympathy at your baffled expression.

ah, they muse fondly, not unlike a parent watching their child witness the world seemingly the first time ever since they learnt to walk, you who presides over something as profound as death yet knows not of the trivialities of life...

"it can also be for many other reasons like–"

the remainder of the words skitter away from uraume— cerberus is playing with gojo.

the fierce guard of the netherworlds, the three-headed hound, loyal and dutiful to a fault: hades' dearest canine companion is frolicking with the god of life in a green meadow, that most certainly was not there so close to the stygian marsh, when they last—

"gojo is laughing," your remark draws them away from their musings, only to find a changed shadow over your countenance— pensive yet not thinking at all; almost as if you too are floating in the stale air of your kingdom akin the soft flower petals...

another ring of raucous laughter pierces the silence, mingled with a delighted series of barks— cerberus is busy licking gojo's face now, the olympian reduced to a puddle of giggles as he scratches behind the dog's ears.

his happiness so clear in the stretch of his grin and the crinkle of his eyes, very much the jarring contrast to the last time—

oh. oh, oh, oh–

"escape," the word leaves uraume in a sudden moment of realisation, as quiet as a breath but loud enough for you to whip your head back to face them, confusion engraved into your scowl. "escape?? what is that supposed to mean, eh?"

the rower feels their lips lift into an infrequent smile. "the god of life wishes to marry you to escape— from his mother, or from his many suitors, or perhaps from mount olympus itself."

"wha– how– hah," you breathe out a disbelieving little huff, "that is simply ridiculous. have you even heard yourself? that is ridiculous."

used to such resistance from yourself, even more from your brother, they move to state their points, only to beaten by you as you persist to speak.

"no one in their right mind will decide to come live in the underworld, no matter how overbearing their mother or insistent their suitors are. have you seen this place? it's too, too unlike the lushness of the earth or the grandeur of the heavens he has experienced. and–" you add, a harsh laugh accompanying it. "gojo satoru is a god. a fish might leave the water— but a god never steps a voluntary foot down that horrible mountain. never."

"but the olympian never truly lived on mount olympus," uraume says once they're sure you've completed your tirade, "and you are a goddess as well. why do you speak so ill of the heavens then?"

"why?" you echo the word. they nod, hoping you take the bait they've intended for you. you do.

"why, because that place is nothing but a shining apple with a rotten core!! everything is polished marble and glittering gold there. people constantly wave at each other, lavishing smiles and praises like there is no tomorrow. everything is so warm and bright— what a bunch of lies and liars!"

familiar fire burns in your aura, the immense heat making the waters erupt into boiling— uraume uses their powers to cool the river down, lest anything disturbs you.

you're too far gone in your rage to be shaken, however, continuing:

"but it never can hide the grime and dirt accrued beneath such shine and sheen. nor the vicious minds and crooked hearts of those deities up above– what lame excuses of gods and goddesses, hah. and you might think me to prefer the light and warmth up there— you will be sorely wrong, my dear uraume!! i much prefer the genuine darkness and frigidity of my beloved kingdom to the faux comfort of the awful mount olympus—"

"is there no possibility the god of life too despises mount olympus for these same reasons, milady?"

you open your mouth and close it, then open it again to let out a very aggrieved whine– momentarily transporting uraume to your younger days. the rower merely chuckles when you punch their arm lightly.

"you're the worst, uraume," you cry, getting up and moving to sit on the other end of the boat. the rower too rises but only to resume rowing the boat by the oar.

"you never spoke this way when sukuna was the ruler— only because his baby sister is the ruler now, and you think she is very stupid—"

"as much as i respect and revere lord sukuna, he wasn't one to listen to anyone else," uraume interrupts gently, "you do, though– which is why i spent so much time telling you this. i hope you did not mind."

"hey, no," you immediately wave away their concern with a wide grin, eliciting a smaller one from the latter, "i could never..."

another peal of laughter and barks rings through the otherwise-quiet. you abruptly trail off, the same conflicting expression from before on your face yet again. though not without a spark in your eyes, uraume notes, almost as if you're slowly learning how to solve the puzzle who is repeatedly offering himself to you.

uraume keeps the silence you initiate, choosing to row the boat while you keep staring at the assortment of hues near the stygian marsh...

until you call their name and declare, an odd firmness in your smile, "well then, it is decided. i shall allow gojo to stay here for as long as the god so wishes to, escaping whatever or whoever he is escaping. and i shall protect him from the latter, should it ever come for him."

a beat. your smile falls into something graver. "would it be better if i swore by the dread water of styx, uraume?"

"uh, um," the rower finds themselves at a loss of words, the first time in seemingly forever, and they have been around since titanomachy– but before they can recover themselves enough to formulate a proper reply, a giggly voice joins in—

"well, if my rose does that, i would consider myself the most blessed amongst all mortals and immortals!"

— and the waters surrounding the boat shoot upwards in a scathing geyser-like jet and steam— the ferocious queen of the netherworlds visibly torn between remorse and terror, as they offer uraume a stiff nod and gojo a horrified look, before vanishing in a wisp of fog.

the boiling waters of the river styx calm down only after a twenty-minute-long struggle by uraume, joined at the very end by gojo.

the latter looks positively delighted, when the former collapses to the bottom of the boat, exhausted beyond belief. "hey, charon. was that a result of your queen getting flustered by me, huh?"

yes, it was. it very much was, the sentences nearly slip past the tired rower's crumbling defences... until it hits them– who they serve, and who they don't.

uraume decides to throw back a glare and a lie. "her majesty was not flustered, lord kore. she was enraged at how you invaded the privacy of her weekly boat ride, intended to make her relax."

"oh, puh-lease," the god makes a face. the rower is certain he would have been punished in the pits of tartarus for all eternity, then some more were he to pursue you this way during your brother's reign, let alone disrespect you thus.

ignorant and insolent, he continues, "in few days time, i'll be allowed into the privacy of her living quarters; what is the privacy of her boat th—"

"you're lucky you did not make such outrageous remarks in front of the queen," uraume cuts him off, none too kindly nor gently, "if you did, her majesty would have certainly burnt you along with the boat to a crisp–"

"i know," comes the defeated reply within the instant. and while gojo is still not in uraume's good graces, the latter decides to notch him a level higher, considering the god of life accepts their queen's powers.

not many do.

he strikes a pathetically pitiful figure, uraume reckons, seeing him sit then slouch on the bench. "was she serious when she said she would protect me?"

your loyal subject nods, certain and solemn. "yes, she was. the queen is never careless when it comes to making promises."

"oh, that's reassuring," gojo says quietly— only to recline even further in the very next beat– an anguished, grating wail tearing from him to the stifling silence looming near the stygian marsh. uraume wonders if it is worth it to steer the boat towards acheron... then push him into its waters of woe...

they decide against it on catching the desperation worn by the god.

for all it is, it might nothing more than a ploy. yet something tugs at their mind to pause and listen when gojo howls, "why does my rose always scurry away after tilting my world on its axis? why does your queen always torment me like this, charon?"

uraume stares pensively at their face in the sacred waters of styx for a while. then heaves a mighty sigh.

certain, this exchange between the goddess of the dead and the god of life will impact not only your and gojo's respective worlds— but the general world and everyone else in it, as well.

did you know, in the actual greek myths, persephone was never called so before her marriage to hades? she got it only after, w the name meaning "bringer of death". her initial name was kore, referring to her being a maiden & the spring goddess.

the river styx was called the "dread river of oath" by homer– in both the iliad and the odyssey [greek epic poems], swearing by its waters is the "greatest and most dread oath for the blessed gods" -> this shows how serious the reader is towards ensuring gojo's safety and freedom, and how deeply this affects gojo as well [source: wiki 😇]

also: the reader is totally ready to jump into the water to swim away when she realises gojo was listening in on her conversations- but then she remembers she can js vanish away and so she does js tht— the queen of the underworld, and of escaping, hehe

also also: the reader is slightly jealous when she is talking of the shifty nymphs always sticking to gojo's side. [uraume identifies it; you think it is js your usual dislike to such frivolous things and ppl as flowers and nymphs etc.] [hades is emo imho 😊]

▸ masterlist

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #kit posts 📝

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fairyhaos · 8 months

Text

how seventeen help their s/o who bumps into things

requested by anon: "I'm someone who is pretty bad with my peripheral view & I end up bumping into corners, walls, or tripping/stumbling over objects that are near me, I was wondering if you could make a svt reaction to them realizing this really bad habit & how they would react?"

notes: a 'how svt' reaction from fairyhaos after a long, long time ! i hope you guys like it <3

masterlist

seungcheol

in the beginning he'd get soso concerned that you were constantly bumping into corners and tripping over things on the floor. has attempted to book and drag you to an appointment at the opticians on a total of 5 different occasions only for you to insist that it's just your horrible peripheral vision and it's Fine. gets worried that you're gonna bruise yourself rlly badly, but you've convinced him to be less hovery-panicky when you accidentally walk into the latest inanimate object.

jeonghan

alternates wildly between acting like a concerned parent and not batting an eye. he's quick to pull you away from walls when it looks like you're getting close to bumping into it while rushing around a corner tho. makes small, conscious efforts to prevent you from hurting yourself, like holding your hand while you're out walking together or making sure that pathways through doors are as smooth as possible in his house so there are no obstacles for you to bump into. still laughs and shakes his head fondly as he remembers the one time to rammed head first into a glass door bc you didn't realize it was shut

joshua

you've bumped into his dining table and his coffee table and every piece of furniture in his house so many times that he asks you one day, half joking and half serious, if you'd like him to baby proof his house for you. finds it rlly endearing actually. gets concerned that you'll get painful bruises tho and always whips out an ice pack when you've had a particularly nasty bump with the wall, but other than that he's gonna make a surprised "oh!" sound before smiling and rushing over to you to pat your head and ask if his lovely darling is doing okay and do you want him to kiss is better for you? ^^

junhui

you're just like him fr!!!!! this little kitty keeps bumping his head on stuff bc he misjudges how short something is (or how tall he is) and so the two of you together are Walking Hazards. neither of you can walk in a straight line. you're constantly bumping shoulders, or bumping into other people, or just bumping into Stuff all the time. jeonghan jokes that you just make each other worse, and you protest every time before accidentally bumping into a table or a wall and making junhui trip over your feet bc he was standing far too close to you

hoshi

acts like it's the end of the world every time. wails loudly, whips out an emergency aid kit from somewhere and asks you to "show me the injury babe, show me where the wall hurt you so i can fix it immediately!!!!!" even if it's just a light, accidental touch against the wall as you turn a corner, he's fussing over your shoulder and asking if you need any bandages. definitely carried u bridal style one time bc you just kept on bumping into things as you walked and he was like. that's it. i can't have you being hurt anymore just jump into my arms and ill carry u!!!! he ended up almost tripping over thin air but oh well. he means well.

wonwoo

his eyes immediately zero in on you whenever he hears a soft "thump" and the sound of you either swearing your head off or making a small "oops" sound, depending on how hard you'd hit something this time. always assesses if you've hurt yourself badly before deciding how to respond, but these days he's learnt that your bumps often aren't incredibly life threatening and more like a little kitten bumping into their reflection in the mirror bc they didn't even know reflections existed. it's kind of cute, he thinks, even if he does wince in sympathy a little when you stub your toe against a chair leg and then start swearing like a sailor

woozi

you come running into his room to show him something before abruptly tripping over a fold in a rug, bashing into the wall and knocking his headphones off his side table all in the span of three seconds, and he doesn't know whether he should laugh or ask you if you're okay. he's kinda used to it now tho, so he does both, and you just roll your eyes before flopping onto his bed and pulling out your phone to show him the video you originally came to show. it's a normal occurrence, you're both used to it, and he's long since given up trying to protect you from your habits

minghao

yelps in surprise every time, and then sucks in his teeth and clicks his tongue, pulling you closer to him to avoid any more accidents. rubs your arm or your hip or wherever you've managed to hit yourself against something this time, telling you that your body is precious okay u can't keep hurting yourself like this >:(( still lowkey thinks you look like an adorable bumbling baby animal tho, especially when you walk wobbily and end up bumping into something before shaking your head confusedly and continuing on your path. is trying to teach you better spacial awareness. can't tell if it's actually working or not.

mingyu

he loves it. thinks it's hilarious. not the part where you might hurt yourself, but the part where you run into stuff and go "oops" so adorably. the both of you are The Clumsy™ couple with mingyu breaking things left and right and you giving yourself bruises every day when you bump into the latest innocent object that had been minding its own business. the first few times he was worried you'd hurt yourself really badly, but once he realised that you didn't get too hurt from it then he'd resorted to grinning at you adoringly (like your terrible peripheral vision was something cute???) bc he just thinks anything you do is so funny and sweet

dokyeom

always has an arm slung over your shoulder whenever he can while out walking on the street to protect you from dangerous corners or lamp posts or anything while you're out and about. it doesn't stop you bumping your hip against like, those mini standing cafe signs, or tripping over cracked paving slabs though, no matter how securely he's holding you into his side. you always end up making a surprised noise when you bump into something and then immediately apologise to the object, and it makes seokmin burst into laughter every time and pull you even closer to him because he just thinks that it's the funniest and cutest thing ever

seungkwan

soooo protective of you like actually. he would totally not be averse to the idea of wrapping you up in bubble wrap from the moment you wake up to the moment you're back in your safe and not dangerous bed at the end of the day. tsks affectionately and has lovingly dubbed you his mini walking disaster. makes startled noises every time you walk into or out of a room and accidentally trip over the uneven flooring or your own feet. tells you to pay better attention to ur surroundings, but tbh he's one to talk bc he's stubbing his toe against a table leg literally five times a month

vernon

spends like ten seconds laughing at you when you bump shoulders with a lamp post on the street and then automatically muttering a "sorry". then he's so busy laughing that he walks smack into a lamp post himself, head first and making a concerning ringing sound as he does so and now it's your turn to laugh, even whilst you're holding his head and making sure that he hasn't given himself a concussion. you're not too bothered by your terrible peripheral vision (okay, you are, but you've kinda accepted it now) so hansol just thinks it's funny too. plus his hand-eye coordination isn't the best, so the both of u are always stumbling into stuff 24/7 anyways

chan

pretends to square up at whatever object or obstacle you've had an altercation with this time. he's all like "oh you DARED to be in the way, huh???? you're gonna pay for that!!" until you're laughing and trying to drag him down the street again. asks if you're okay, afterwards, smiling all the same bc he loves that he was able to make you laugh bc of how he reacted. and at home the freezer is stocked with mini ice packs bc he is Afraid that one day you're gonna bruise yourself rlly badly and god forbid you have to get Hurt and god forbid that you think he won't immediately try and do everything within his power to make the hurt go away :((

request guidelines

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shiny-kaibernyte · 4 months

Note

Hihi,, another silly Drayton request,,,

Drayton x Reader who owns protective pokémon (mb a Silvally as their ace or main pkmn?)

You all never fail to impress me with these adorable ideas you all come up with! I'm so down for this one!!! I do hope you don't mind the fact I changed the Pokémon to be a Hisuin Arcanine. I am not the biggest Silvally or Type: Null fan (kinda dislike them lmao) Plus big fluffy doggy 💜💜

Pokémon Scarlett and Violet Indigo Disk DLC Spoilers ahead!

After a Pokémon somehow broke into the Academy and shut the power of to Drayton's dorm room. The pair of you bump into one another in the hall where your Arcanine is the least bit pleased about his sudden arrival.

SPOILER WARNING AHEAD (Indigo Disk)

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

(I got an alpha Arcanine stuck though it was perfect for this)

Inside and out | Drayton x Reader

It was all over the school blog ‘Mass power outage on the second floor dormitories! No update yet on when power will be back! Will keep posted and up to date! On other news… Kieran finally to be dethroned?’ How in Arceus did a massive power outage occur? It rang in the back of your mind throughout the afternoon, curiosity tackling you at every possible moment whenever you would be wandering the halls. Unfortunately, when you finally caved in to your kitten instincts, the hallway was taped off. That wasn’t normal, it's just a power outage right?

“No this can’t be right…?” You question looking down at your phone then up to the stairs again.

“You can say that again!” A familiar voice chimed from behind you, before you even had a chance to turn around, you felt a head on your shoulder and arms wrapping around your waist, one of your pokeballs slightly rocking inside your pocket. “Quite the predicament wouldn’t you say?”

“Hello Drayton.” Chuckling you slightly turn your head towards your new companion, his hair slightly brushing against your cheek. He simply humed in response, looking up towards the tapped off stairs when you caught his attention again. “Any idea what caused this? Strage for the stairs to be blocked when it's just a power outage…”

“Well that, my Starlight, is because it's not just a power outage! Somehow a wild pokemon managed to get into the school without literally anyone seeing it, and torched up the breaker connected to the second floor, fried the whole thing, so even a simple light switch could spark it up. I only know this because Carmine dragged me out of bed… literally. I was having a very nice dream too, until I got carpet burns and bruises from her grip. Girls got a grip, I'll say that much.” Drayton chimed, getting a little off topic as he spoke.

“As long as everyones alright… Though, where are you guys all sleeping?” The thought suddenly popped in your head. It's blocked off and most likely can’t be fixed for quite some time. Plus with the fire hazards and the pokemon most likely still roaming in someone's dorm room now, it's definitely not safe in the slightest. “Are they going to put bed rolls down in the cafeteria?”

He shrugs finally letting you go to stretch out his arms before resting them behind his head as he starts to walk down the hall, “Yeah pretty much. I may need my beauty rest, but there's no way I'm sleeping on the floor with everyone else on that floor like a bunch of rattata.”

“You of all people don’t need beauty rest Drayton.” You teased now walking by his side, the pokeball in your pocket shaking more than before.

“You are such a sweetheart you know?” Drayton chimed, a bright smile crossing his face as he put his arm around your shoulder. But before he could do anything else the pokeball of yours finally sprung into action all on its own and out pops you Hisuin Arcanine. Expression unphased, you stare at your pokemon completely unamused, Drayton on the other hand has been pushed away from you with his hands in the air and surrendered. “Ah if it isn’t my arch nemesis, wonderful to see you again Arcanine!”

A low pitched growl followed his comment as the Arcanine backed up towards you expecting pets for his deed. Gently stroking its back you sigh disapprovingly, “Arcanine, how many times do we have to go through this, you both have to share my attention.”

“I’m not gonna hog them all the time you know! As much as I really want to…” Mumbling the last part, Drayton made an attempt to approach the Arcanine only to be met by the Pokemon’s glare. Seems his mumbling didn’t go unheard. “Think i just upset it…?”

“You upset Arcanine just by breathing near me, love.” You laugh scratching the underside of Arcnin’s chin as a temporary distraction.

“True true…” Drayton nodded, placing his hands in his pockets as a light smirk crossed his face. “Though try as it may, your Arcanine can never keep me from seeing my treasure.”

The bright red blush that crossed your face immediately made Drayton laugh out loud, he adored getting reactions like this out of you. Especially if Arcanine happened to be out of his ball, as it drove the pokemon nuts. Since day one, Drayton and your Arcanine never got along, no matter how hard he tried to get on Arcanine’s good side, it just fell upon deaf ears. After all Arcanine is the most loyal pokemon a trainer can have, and Drayton is basically the exact same. You are Arcanine’s trainer, and Drayton’s beloved treasure. So the pair will never stop fighting for your full attention! Even if you tell them otherwise.

“Arcanine, leave him be, you know nothing you do will stop me from spending time with him.” You respond, the Arcanine’s unamused huff followed.

Drayton’s next mistake came the moment he let his winners smile show on his face, thinking teh Arcanine had given into you. The moment he moved, Drayton found himself watching you get pushed down the fall by the Arcanine’s nose before he even got close enough to touch you. You’d accepted this finding it too funny not to allow, Drayton however took a moment to actually process what was happening, eventually having to run after you two before he'd actually have to use his brain and find you. “HEY HEY! YOU CAN’T JUST STEAL THEM! THAT WASN’T PART OF OUR DEAL YOU FLUFFY HORDER!”

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 7 months

Text

ALL MINE. PART 2.

Pairing: Erik × OC (Courtney Rawlins)

Tags: Roleplay, Car Smut, Fall Rain

Part 1

"Damn it all!" Courtney hit the steering wheel furious. "Big ol' pothole in this damn country road... And in the rain of all things." Her car had broken down. She was now parked on the side of the road with her hazard lights on in a no cell service area. "Now what?"

A gentle tap came at her back window. A man who'd pulled over behind her was walking to her door. "I noticed your lights were dim, and your car was stalling. You look like you need a service."

"What's it to ya," Courtney leaned, her face nearly against the glass to eyeball him up close. The nerve of the nigga to be fine in a situation such as this. She cracked the window, her eyes narrowed. He was getting wet out there in his hoodie, his thumbs hitched in the pockets of his distressed denim jeans.

"I'm a mechanic."

"Are ya now?"

"Yes... Country ass. I gotta shop not too far from here," he gestured to the road ahead, "I stopped when I saw you were broken down, stuck out here in the rain."

"I'm not in the rain, sir, you are."

He smiled, long lashes fluttering. "Ok. Let me help you out."

Courtney muttered to herself as he briefly poked around under her hood, letting it back down and leaning into the now half down window with a sniff. "It's the alternator."

"Alternator?" She frowned. "Can't you jump it or something like in the movies?"

"I could jump something," he looked her up and down.

"Aht! You ain't getting in this, I assure you... I'm a LADY."

"K, Lady. Your alternator's dead. Fixing in it costs as much if not more than getting a new one. You're looking at $400-600."

"Where am I supposed to get that kinda money?" Courtney's hands flailed, hitting her knees in frustration.

"You're driving an Audi, you'll find it."

No one else had stopped, and Courtney couldn't call anyone. Not even data worked. He was a handsome guy. She squinted hard, appraising him. "Eh," she bit her nail, hesitating until he turned back to his car. She rolled the window down all the way.

"Wait! You're gonna leave me?"

"LADY... I'm getting soaked, and you don’t have any money."

"Not sitting around!"

"I accept other forms of payment." He shifted his nuts with a grab.

"Or you could help me for free," she murmured, her lip in a pout.

"In the next few seconds, I plan on getting back into my car and driving away."

"Alright, fine!"

"You change your mind?" He walked around to the ditch. "Unlock the door."

"Ugh... YOU'RE ALL WET," she rolled her eyes as he sat in her leather passenger seat. When he pulled down his jeans to free his dick, it was already pointed to the ceiling.

"Whose fault is that?"

"Yours."

"Bring that neck." He palmed her head, bringing it down over his tip. Her body turned, knee in the seat.

She wrapped her fingers around his base and took in the first couple inches, getting it wet with her spit, spread with her tongue. Her tight lips sunk down, spreading the bubbling wetness down an inch from the base. Almost instantly, her head bobbed up and down, her hand on his thigh. The gluck-gluck-glucking of her wet mouth, the zoom of cars passing, and the sound of falling rain on the windshield filled the vehicle. He laid his head back, going hands-free until she took a gasping breath, spit stretching between her full lips. He palmed her head once more, growling lowly until he came.

It was on her tongue, a pool of opaque white that she swallowed easily.

"That's enough?"

"I'll tell you when it's enough. I'm a get you real right. Climb in the backseat."

Traffic had not stopped coming or shaking the car each time another vehicle whooshed by. Courtney watched through the back windshield as the wayward mechanic exposed her ass while it was tooted.

"See, I would've helped you for free, but for getting me soaked, I gotta charge you some way. This the best way." He wrapped a hand around her low natural bun, his pelvis thudding skin to skin with her ass. She braced herself against the back headrests, taking dick and throwing it back to her own pleasure. The back of her thighs were wet from him dragging along his wet clothes, but when he hit the right spot from the start like he knew her, she no longer cared.

"Men are pigs," she muttered, looking back. He grabbed her chin, tilting it back and holding on as he continued to stroke, the thud of their colliding bodies another sound on the rainy day.

"Erik," she breathed, caught in a rhythm of meeting his hips.

"Who?"

Her smile spread, her breath on his face. He sucked her top lip between his before kissing her and spitting a watery drop of his saliva into her open mouth. He then slapped her small ass and let her fall back forward to look through the rear window.

Again, she pushed her hips back, grinding until a police car rode by.

"Aight aight, let's stop," she dropped suddenly paranoid. She didn't want him to swing back or pull over to assist. Wasn't nothing really wrong with the car. Erik looked back and crawled back to the passenger seat, pulling his pants up fast as the cop pulled over ahead. Courtney did the same, jumping back in the driver's seat under the cover of the rain.

"He's not looking," Erik spotted, helping her move. "Relax," he whispered when Courtney's eyes were still big. "We ain't doing nothing wrong. It's not a crime to pull over."

"I know," she whispered back. "I got indica in the glove compartment!"

"Shit..." He popped the compartment open covering the baggie with the manual that was in there. He took out the registration just in case, closing the compartment as the cop reached the driver's window.

Courtney cracked it.

"Everything okay here? You break down?"

"Oh, no! I was having trouble but my boyfriend was behind me. I just had to press some button to get the alert off my screen."

"She's getting used to learning the controls," Erik added.

The cop nodded at him, understanding. It wasn't a lie. Courtney genuinely didn't know a damn thing about cars or what half them symbols on the dash meant. It was believable because it had already happened before.

"You're good now?"

"Yes. It was my mistake, but I've got it now," Courtney smiled. "Thank you."

"Alright," the officer left, returning to his car and eventually pulling off. Courtney sighed and looked to Erik. At the same time, they chuckled, and he got the weed out. "Consider this payment," he smiled, leaving the car before she could snatch him up. He got back in his own car and she kissed her teeth, waiting for the current queue of passing cars to pass before she pulled off too. He was right behind her in the rear view mirror.

"What," she answered on Bluetooth when his call popped up on her screen.

"That was fun. I like how you treated me like some dusty ass nigga and left me out in the rain like you ain't know my ass-"

"YOU SAID TO ACT LIKE I AIN'T KNOW YOU!"

"Nah, it's cool. Next time I'm a get you back! Just kidding... But you know me now, so don't be acting like that."

"I acted too well?" Courtney smirked, meeting his eye in her mirror. She laughed, not thinking that he would be looking.

"Nah, don't change it, it makes things interesting. What we doing next?"

"Hm," she thought. "I'll think about it."

"Can it involve me being dry?"

Her head rolled with silent laughter. "I'll think about it."

The End.

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens-blog @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @thadelightfulone @sultanabby @mysticalblackhottie @baekhyunbabybunni @fd-writes @richonne4life @goldieccentric @thehomierobbstark @capswife @blackpinup22 @harleycativy @lishabaybeee-blog @playgurlxoxo @beaut1fulone-blog @blackerthings @syndrlla97 @ladymac82 @browngirldominion

#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #black panther killmonger #black panther fanfiction #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #spooky szn #kinktober

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mamayan · 7 months

Note

Hi! and wow! I actually never made a request on tumblr before today. To get to the point: Tumblr is lacking in Sanemi Shinazugawa content so bad (your Yobai writing was so perfect btw!!!) I would LOVE it of you made a arranged marriage fic of reader x Sanemi or maybe a college bully sanemi x teacher reader or something ^^ im not picky but i love to see what you would do with it!! 💕XOXO

Nonnie I’m so glad you slid in my box with these treasures, like goodness I sort of want to write both, but I wouldn’t do them justice in just one ask. How’s this? If you like how I write this, throw another ask in for the arranged marriage. I’m feeling this modern AU right now♥️

College AU: Bully! Student! Sanemi Shinazugawa x Professor! Fem! Reader

tw: NSFW • Modern AU • Taboo Relationship (Student x Teacher) • Reader has hair long enough to pull and is shorter than Sanemi here • Blackmail • Spanking • Oral (M) • Fingering (F) • Rough Sex • Degradation/Mild Humiliation

“Mr. Shinazugawa, thank you for coming in today.” You sat perched like a little bird behind your desk, ass scooted as far to the edge of the seat as possible with your legs crossed. Your pencil skirt, with a slit up the leg, revealed your soft skin for his dark gaze as he lazily slides into the leather plush seat in front of your desk.

It’s just after your office hours had closed, the campus winding down for the evening as classes finished up.

Your pretty face was serious, lips set in a grim line as you faced him with your hands folded in your lap. He felt his irritation spike as your pathetic display of posturing in front of him. His face didn’t hide his disdain either, sneering at you as he leaned back and spread his arms over the back of the chair, legs spread wide as he slouches disrespectfully. “What’s up Doc,” he calls your title with hardly any care, rolling the words like one might speak to an old friend and not their college Professor. You’d earned your doctorate, unlike this trouble child turned demon.

Unfortunately you couldn’t have him expelled, the Ubuyashiki family whom owned and founded this prestigious University being on very good terms with Sanemi’s family. The only time you saw him behave with even a semblance of human decency was in front of the the chairman, but Kagaya is a young man of a calm and patient disposition, far to lenient with Sanemi by your personal standards. The man in question nothing short of a delinquent, face covered in menacing scars with his white hair gelled back, amethyst eyes being eerily similar to that of a wild animal.

Unhinged, violent, a bully.

One too many students had complained to you, some even sent to the hospital, and it was Kagaya Ubuyashiki himself who’d asked for your help personally. Explaining that Sanemi needed your assistance and guidance to find the right path. He’d buttered you up so well you’d caved and agreed to have a one on one with the vibrating feral dog before you.

“I think you have some idea of why you’re here Mr. Shinazugawa. Despite your incredible aptitude in my class, and from what I hear from my colleagues, their classes as well… you’ve not given the same courtesy towards your fellow students and professors.” It was putting it as politely as possible, because this man nearly killed the department head of Astronomy. Granted, that Professor was a dirtbag and had been bumping up grades for sexual favors from his students, but you certainly didn’t condone that sort of savagery. No matter how good it felt to see him in a wheel chair looking defeated and broken. That was only one instance though, his multiple fist fights on campus, destruction of property, and overall cruel disposition made him a hazard.

Sanemi merely rolled his eyes, smirking when he caught your eye twitch in irritation. “So what? This a fuckin’ intervention baby?” You startled at the intimate nickname, becoming enraged at his teeth baring grin. “You wanna fix me or somethin’? I might think about it if you get on your knees and suck my cock.” His snicker of amusement and wide provocative eyes were roaring to match your rage.

“If you don’t take this seriously Mr. Shinazugawa—,” the moment you stood to point a finger, he was standing too.

Towering over you, his smile gone and person radiating bloodlust. He didn’t step forward, didn’t need to if he wanted to make a point, because even just him standing doing absolutely nothing was enough to send a shiver of fear down your spine and choke on your next words.

“If I don’t take this seriously… then what Ms. PhD? Hmm? You’ll do fuckin’ what?” His voice had dropped an octave and the baritone of his timber was nothing if not damn terrifying. You briefly wondered if you’d get fired for throwing yourself out the window behind you, because this was ridiculously scary. You should’ve made Mr. Ubuyashiki stay, your confidence draining with the blood from your face. His dark expression doesn’t change, but he’s drinking in your fearful expression and cautious widening eyes with inner glee. You couldn’t see it, but the little lip quiver and your eyes getting watery had him rock hard, fully enjoying the submissive display and making his teeth ache to sink into the pretty skin you so boldly flashed when you uncrossed your legs to stand. “What’s wrong? You were so damn ready to lay into me, now you wanna be cute and quiet?” His teasing edge was more mocking and dripping with ridicule than he intended, but the affect he wanted was the same.

Stroking those flames of yours higher.

“This is highly is inappropriate—,”

“Like masturbating in your office on the weekend?” You physically freeze, face falling as horror dawns on you.

“If we want to talk about inappropriate, then why don’t you face the mirror on yourself.” His smile only grows with your anxiety.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about—,” he laughs, digging his phone quickly from his pocket and unlocking it swiftly. When he faces the screen towards you, there’s a video playing.

Of you. Doing exactly that, two fingers shoved down your skirt when you quietly pant and work yourself over, leaning against your desk. It’s way to HD and close up to be anything else but a hidden camera on your desk no less, panic flooding yourself as you swipe off the papers looking for whatever the hell held the device. All the while in your frantic search, Sanemi let the video continue at full volume, your little gasps and moans getting louder as you gasp now for air for different reasons.

It’s in your name plate. Nearly invisible but you find it and nearly tear it apart with shaking hands as you look at up at his evil face grinning down at you.

He likes that the cocky pretentious look on your face is gone. “Who’d have thought the golden Professor around here would be such a fucking slut when no one is looking. All these books and numbers must not satisfy huh?” You wanted to scream at him.

“Y-you set this up…? Why?” You couldn’t fathom it at all, why the devil incarnate would do such a nasty thing. Did he want you gone? If so, he could easily convince Ubuyashiki, so it must just be to torment you. You’d never had a confrontation with him until today though, and that video was taken weeks ago. Your pretty eyes pricked with tears could only look at him in complete disbelief.

“Why? Are you fucking kidding me right now? It seems your brain is only book smart baby, of course it’s because I wanted to.” His sneering grin is absolute in it’s intention to hurt. Even as tears spill and you’re forced to reconcile not only are you likely getting fired from your dream job, but he’s probably going to spread it all over the Internet. You’d never get hired anywhere else if that gets out. It’s not like it’s revenge porn or something like that, it’s clearly your office on campus during work hours.

“Looks like I’m not the only freak around here, isn’t that right Doctor?” He moves now, shutting the video off and sliding his phone back in his pocket, stepping around your desk towards you. You don’t have much room to step back before you’re up against the wall. His body boxing you in as his arms shoot out and palms slap flat on either side of your head, your flinch goes ignored as he leans down nearly close enough to kiss you.

He smells like something sweet, juxtaposed to his cruel and serious expression.

“You wanna keep your job and dignity?” You don’t want to let the tears fall, but they do.

You nod anyway, even as you pathetically sniffle and glare up at him hatefully. It’s got all the venom of a bunny to him.

“Then get on your knees. I wasn’t fuckin’ kidding earlier.”

You hate him and yourself. You told yourself this job was stressful, justified your dirty secret, but it ended up being the nail in your coffin. This would be another though.

“B-but you’re my student…”

“It didn’t stop you from fucking your fingers in here, so I don’t really see a problem.” It’s like you swallowed a lead weight as you move to kneel like he asked, not looking at him even as he refuses to give you more space, still leaning against the wall behind you.

It gives him a great view to look down on you, your form quaking and so unwilling he wanted to laugh. You were acting tough still.

His pants are baggy and loose, the denim waist band barely on his hips and you can see up his shirt now, the hard lines of muscle on his torso and soft smatter of hair down his navel into his waist band.

He’s not wearing boxers.

“I suggest you fuckin’ hurry before I start looking for somethin’ to post to end my boredom.” His words light a fire under you, hands moving swiftly and desperately now. It has him grinning savagely, watching you easily pull his pants down and expose his hard leaking cock to the cool air.

He lets you pause for a second, feasting on the hesitation and awe you express as you lightly grip him. Your fingers don’t touch all the way around. It drives him wild as he bucks his hips, hissing in pleasure as you finally lick his tip tentatively.

“A bitch who fucks herself in her office doesn’t kitten lick cock,” his threat is there, and you force yourself to open up and take him in your hot mouth.

He’s loud as he moans, and when you cringe back from his little thrust deeper into your mouth, he steps forward to press you back against the wall. Seeing you pinned, looking up at him with your mouth full of his cock, almost makes him cum on the spot.

Almost.

Instead he pulls out slowly, your hands on his thighs as if that’ll stop him from going too deep. When it’s only his tip in, he slams back forward, laughing at your tears spilling and mouth sputtering around him. Your throat gagging and constricting as he stretches the thin tight airway until it burns, pulling back slowly again and repeating until all you can think about is the cock in your throat and the scent of something sweet, like a confectionery.

He didn’t think it’d feel so good. The sight of you deep throating him and the feeling of your mouth on his cock far too amazing to stop himself from an early ejaculation.

Unfortunately for you, he comes a lot. Thick ropes of cum shoot down your throat, the surprise of it causing you to cough, making some of it go up and out your nose as the jolt of pain brings a fresh wave of tears.

“Fuck—, you better swallow all of it,” he all but snarls down at you, looking feral and rabid as he works his hips and cock around in your mouth while you struggle to obey.

When he pulls out finally, load emptied in your stomach, his hand reaches down and grips your jaw. The force of it making your sore jaw and mouth open back up, and it’s too late to close before his spit lands on your tongue. You try to jerk away, to spit it out as the humiliation washes over you, but he’s stronger. Forcing your head back against the wall, he clamps your jaw shut, laughing as you nearly bite through your own tongue in frustration.

“Don’t piss me off, fuckin’ swallow it.” You like him more when he’s being teasing and mean, not this serious Sanemi which invokes fear and commands your obedience.

You swallow, hatefully you swallow and even more hatefully curse him in your mind because you were aroused. Painfully aching and panties soaked to your embarrassment. He smiles, not the twisted kind but approvingly, as you listen. The indignant and humiliated look on your face absolutely adorable covered in your own tears and his cum. He’s nice not to make you wipe it off and lick it up this time.

“Stand up,” he doesn’t wait for you to follow, sure that you’ll try and take your sweet ass time and he sadly only has half and hour left with you by appointment standards. You were after all the most beloved Professor on campus, and many people wanted your time. He wasn’t different in that sense, but he also isn’t content to play the part of a good student and wait for you to fall in love with him like some stupid romance movie.

He’d much rather you like this.

Sanemi manhandles you until he’s seated in your desk chair, pulling you into his lap, back against his chest. You aren’t given time to protest when he yanks up your skirt and uses his thick thighs to spread your own.

Feeling him against you like this, you realize he’s all muscle. Not a soft spot to be found, as he tears off your underwear next, exposing your cunt to the cool air as you feel his cock hardening again beneath your ass.

“S-Sanemi—!?” He opens your cute little blouse up next, batting your hands away easily to yank your bra down and reveal your breasts and hardened nipples.

“Fuck you’re soaked, you like suckin’ my cock that much?” He ignores your whine of protest, your efforts to stop him minimal and half hearted, especially when he lets his rough thick fingers trail through the copious arousal dripping from your pussy right now. “Should I have kept going? See if you’d cum just from fucking your mouth?” He cups your face and turns your head to look at him, unable to stop the hoarse moan that leaves you when he sinks a finger inside your tight heat. “Y-you’re wrong…” you still stubbornly glare and argue back, eyes still sparked with defiance he found delicious.

“Oh? So this isn’t from sucking my cock? Then what’s it from, watching yourself get off again in this office? You a fuckin’ exhibitionist or something?” He’s teasing as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you, the wet noises echoing in your office and stifling your next words as you pant and weakly grip behind you onto his shirt.

“If that’s the case, I don’t mind turning us around and drawing back the curtains…” he speaks the words softly, right into your ear as he licks the shell of it, your pussy clamping down hard on his finger. Your office faced the main part of campus, even in the evening students and teachers walked that area.

He chuckles, “You really like the sound of that, don’t you whore?” You gasp as he adds a second, gritting your teeth to stop the sounds of pleasure from spilling freely.

“Fu-fuck you—!” Your words drip venom, but he only sighs, as if disappointed in your answer. Shaking his head as if there’s nothing he can do about it.

“That’s the point baby, I’m going to fuck you,” he effortlessly lifts you up with one arm around your middle, the iron bar that is his arm suffocating as you struggle. He slips his fingers out, the gooey trail of slick connecting his fingers to your pussy making his cock twitch as he rubs the leftovers on the tip, slicking himself up as he lines himself with your entrance.

“Just like this,” he lets gravity do the work, and you’re so wet it slides in despite the a sting and ache of the stretch, his girth splitting you.

“Hah!” You try to jerk off, but he keeps your from doing so with his arm still wrapped around you, groaning as your pussy begins to spasm and tighten up painfully.

“Holy fuck are you coming? Shitttt,” He’s delirious with pleasure, your orgasm wrecking you both as you twitch and moan, struggling to even breathe as your body betrays your mind. It feels too good. All of it. Your legs spread wide and his cock in full view splitting you open as you cum around him. He can’t stop himself from rutting up into you, cursing your gummy walls as they massage and strangle his dick, pumping his cock as your pussy gushes slick.

“Shit you really are a slut, to cum all over your student’s cock like a bitch in heat, and I’ve hardly touched you, ah,” his head tilts back, both hands now anchoring your hips as he bounces you, tip hitting your deepest parts as you cry and moan. Quick to be overwhelmed and overstimulated.

When his balls draw tight, he shoves you off him roughly, forcing you to hit the desk as he pushes your face down into the homework you had been grading earlier. He hunches over you, sliding back inside from behind as he yanks your hips up when your legs try to buckle.

“Not fuckin’ done with you—!” He looks enraged, face flushed bright red as he pants, watching his thick cock get swallowed over and over again inside you. “Not done ever actually,” he laughs, moving his hand off your face to sink into your hair, gripping a fist full and yanking your head back. Your cries are no longer muffled, your tear and drool covered face now sporting a few ink stains as he really begins bucking his hips, using your hair as leverage to keep you in place.

Your body seizes up again, another hard orgasm rushing up as Sanemi lands a sharp slap against your right ass cheek. Then the left side. “Fuck yes, clench your pussy just like that!” He’s speaking through his teeth, hissing in pleasure as he paints your ass with his hand, loving how tight you get on impact and how wet you are.

“Sanemi—m’gonna cum—!” Your tongue feels swollen as you speak, mumbling out your words as your peak approaches. You aren’t even thinking anymore, his cock turning you stupid as he grunts and continues his savage pace.

“Bet it’s been forever,” he laughs, “—no, I bet you’ve never had this pretty pussy fucked like this before, have you?” You’re out of it, too drunk on the high to comprehend his words. “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna fuck you like this everyday, you’re not ever gonna forget how it feels for me to fill this pussy—!” He flinches as you cum, moaning long and loud as his cock succumbs to the pleasure and he follows you close after. His balls taunt with tension as his dick works to fill you up just like he said.

He lets you drop back to the desk as he pants, skin sweaty as he wipes his forehead and looks down at you.

You’re heaving too, limp and drooling as you recover slower than him. Your clothes completely in disarray as you lay mostly exposed. He lets his dick slide out slowly, softening just a little and helping him ease out as he watches a well of white begin to ooze out of you and onto the fancy pristine wood flooring below, your legs trembling in the cute black heels you sported.

Sanemi reaches over you wordlessly, to the potted plant which has decorated your desk even longer than your new name plate.

He pockets the little camera hidden in it, before he starts yanking up his pants and fixing his clothes.

As he walks around your desk, he looks down just as you look up. His smile disgusting as he quietly says, “Thanks for the fun. I’ll see you the same time tomorrow Ms. Slut,” he laughs at the rage bleeding into your eyes again.

He’ll enjoy re-watching your first time together tonight when he can get the footage uploaded to his computer. Tomorrow he’ll be sure to take you from a new angle.

#sanemi shinazugawa #Sanemi Shinazugawa smut #Kny Sanemi smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut #Sanemi smut #kny #demon slayer #demon slayer Sanemi #demon slayer Sanemi smut #request filled #bully! Sanemi #Sanemi Shinazugawa x reader #Sanemi x reader smut #kny x reader smut #student Sanemi x teacher reader

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discowizard88 · 2 months

Text

Late Musings

Running your hand softly across the sprawl of John’s rarely exposed chest, your hands raised and dipped along the geography of his body. Carefully considering your movements, you repositioned your head to study John’s. Lost to the rare treat of peaceful sleep, he laid still with his arms wrapped around your body in a loose hug that hid their cage-like nature.

Eyes closed and mouth parted, you could only hear the faint sound of his breathing and feel the ghostly tickle of his exhale on your face.

You loved him like this: when his brows laid neutral, his lips gentle and free from that sharp smile that always left you feeling uneasy, a rare moment when his body wasn’t covered by his superhero costume and his muscles weren’t constantly tight like a cord waiting to snap.

It was one of these rare but treasured moments that you could imagine him genuinely contented. He always seemed to melt in the embrace of your affection, and for a time, you thought that was all he needed: genuine care, but with proximity came clarity. He was a black hole, something constantly consuming even when he reached out; he doomed those he grasped to destruction. Having starved too long, he had incarnated desperation for something to fill him without considering the casualties of his voracity.

However, it was in those little off-beat remarks of self-deprecation and vulnerable musings that left you dangling hope for him. John could never be described as the most self-conscious person, but he was far more self-aware than most believed him to be. He knew something was irrevocably wrong with him.

The little boy that never quite escaped the badroom.

“What are you doing awake this hour?”

Startled from your musing, your gaze meant his hooded blue eyes and lazy smile. Eyes fixed on your own, a warm affection swam in those beautiful blue orbs as they always did for you.

His magnificent sapphire was another thing you loved about him. Eyes that possessed a marveling luminous effect even when deprived of lighting or, in a more hazardous case, John’s lasers. The color was like arctic ice that shifted in its sharpness depending on his given mode. You wouldn’t deny their danger, but perhaps that’s what added to the pair's captivating nature, that at any moment, they could kill but always remained beautiful.

You smile softly, “Just admiring, my love.”

John leaned down to meet your lips, and with a Cheshire smile, he captured and kissed you. You giggled into his lips, and some of you cringed at the schoolgirl thrill that coursed through you.

You had meant John, as most did when he was on the job as Homelander.

It was love at first sight, or at least it had been for John.

Pulling back for air, you escaped but not without a playful possessive bit on your lower lip.

You smiled as you ran your tongue over the site of accident while he wore a playful smirk that displayed his upper teeth and vicious canines.

John held one of your hands and raised them to his lip to trail a series of soft kisses over the palm as he looked at you and you at him. His soft lips danced across your fingertips as his eyes swarmed with a growing intensity that captured you in their magnificent blue once more.

Following no set path, John kissed the knuckles of your hand before skimming his lips down your arm as he pulled you closer into his orbit.

You loved him, and he’d be your doom if you stayed.

He intertwined his legs with your own, and you felt him harden against your thigh.

How could you ever leave.

Thank you so much for reading! Also I am open to The Boys request if anyone has any. Please look at my profile for further details.

#the boys amazon #the boys homelander #homelander x reader #homelander fanfiction #x reader #the boys tv

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neon-junkie · 8 months

Text

Tech x gn!Reader - An Early Lunch

A short 500 word drabble. Tech is meant to be doing repairs, but procrastination gets the better of him. However, he knows how to fix his concentration.

He's doing it again.

You're not meant to be his babysitter - far from it - but given how often he drifts away from his work, you certainly feel like it.

"Tech," your voice chimes in, and with wide eyes, Tech peers over his shoulder to meet your gaze. Tech lets out a soft, "hm?" which only causes you to shake your head in annoyance.

"You're distracting yourself. Again," you explain, gesturing to the jumble of repairs that lie untouched in the Marauder's hallway, an obvious safety hazard, although this ship is one big hazard in itself.

"I would not call this a distraction," Tech defends as he holds up his spare pair of googles. "I began rummaging through these draws to search for a specific tool, and in doing so, I found my missing pair of goggles. Upon finding them, I realised that the recorder lens was cracked, and I know that I have the required materials to repair this minor issue. So, I decided to hop to it, and I will resume to the ship's repairs shortly-"

"-No, you won't," you say with a tut. "I've seen you distracting yourself all morning, and we both know that Hunter will not be happy when the others return from their supply run, to find that you've barely made a start on them."

Tech lets out a long and frustrated grumble, yet he continues fixing his goggles, popping in the new lens and fixing them in place. "Perhaps an early lunch will assist in putting me back on schedule," Tech proposes, which only causes you to roll your eyes.

"And now, you're hungry?" you sigh. Sure, you can get started on the repairs yourself, but Tech was meant to be teaching you. How can you proceed without his assistance?

"Yes," Tech responds with a simple nod. "But not for food."

"Oh?" you respond with a raised brow, causing Tech to grin. Maybe his wandering mind isn't such a curse, after all? So long as your main task gets completed.

"Oh, indeed," Tech nods. "It appears that my frustration is causing me to stray off course. If you allowed me to relieve myself, then I am certain that I will be able to regain focus." Such bold words from an even bolder man.

Rising from his mess on the Marauder's floor, Tech makes his way over to you, a gloved hand coming out to cup your own. You allow him to lead you over to the Pilot's chair, his chair, and seat you upon it. "Do I have your consent?" Tech questions as he sinks to his knees, spreading yours apart and positioning himself between them.

"You have my consent, but you must promise that you'll focus on repairs after. I don't want to put up with Hunter-"

"-Don't think about Hunter," Tech cuts you off with a wave of his hand. "The repairs will be completed. All you need to do is relax, and allow me to work."

A promise is a promise - something that Tech never goes back on. You might as well allow both of you to have some fun, especially if it means Tech will be able to concentrate on his repairs. So… why not?

#tbbwriting #tbb tech #bad batch #tbb #the bad batch #the bad batch tech #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #bad batch tech x reader #clone trooper tech x reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert

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alienaiver · 3 months

Text

Rotisserie Chicken

Suna Rintarou x gn!reader

warnings: none! this is pure fluff wordcount: 1.2k content: fluff, SFW, genderneutral reader, bodypositive and poc friendly reader, domestic fluff, established relationship, post-timeskip, canon compliant, not beta'd, youre married and pretty handy in regards to like. building stuff LMAO, light humor and banter, no use of y/n, i googled rotisserie chicken a thousand times to make sure i spelled it correctly. it looks wrong no matter what i do

notes: this is part four of my domestic life with suna series! i should really make a masterpost actually. anyways, your 10 year old bed that you lovingly bought together at the start of the relationship is creaking; you fix it. suna has his thoughts and secrets are uncovered!

go to part 1, 2, 3 (but can be read as a stand-alone)

Suna walks into your bedroom with a cold bottle of tea in his hand and his phone in the other, eyeing you for only a moment before throwing himself onto the recliner in the corner. You’ve been forced to take PTO days before they expire and so the recliner, dubbed the Laundry Chair, is actually available to sit on. Suna doesn’t hesitate.

Silently, he lifts his phone to stare into the screen again, making a point out of not commenting on your work. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees you popping up from behind the bed frame to see if he’s looking at you. When he isn’t, you pop back down and fiddle with the screws. Profanities have been said because your small power drill hasn’t been charged over night like you planned yesterday (you forgot to turn on the outlet itself before joining Suna on the couch for a late night Netflix evening).

He knows that you’re hoping for an offer of his drink but he’s as stubborn as you are; you’re fully capable of asking, he reasons. You grumble out some more words before you turn to the next screw. He bites the bullet, “why, oh, why has the mattress been lifted from my perfectly functioning bed?”

The way your head rises up and your smile beaming has him rolling his eyes already, “I’m just tightening the screws. The creaking is making me insane.”

“Oh?” he says, unscrewing his bottle, “I find the clown bicycle honks kinda hot when you do your half-hourly rotating.”

You narrow your eyes but before you can speak he continues, “I wonder who would’ve been correct in saying that IKEA furniture that’s been disassembled before is shit. Who could’ve saved us the trouble?” He looks to the ceiling and around the room before his eyes lands directly on yours, “that’s right. Me.” he says dryly, challenging you with a raised eyebrow.

You snort before you turn back to your task at hand, the mattress balanced hazardously up against the walk-in closet that’s currently half-open. Not a dangerous thing at all, no, he observes to himself.

After a moment of silence you forego his scolding and ask, “what the hell do you mean half-hourly rotating? Who does that?”

He scrolls social media as he chuckles, "you. You do that. Like a little rotisserie chicken but instead it’s all natural, no electrical wires needed.”

The wide stare you give him is enough to make him crack a smile, eyes still theatrically trained on his screen. “Is that why I’m called rotisserie chicken on your fucking phone!?”

Bingo. Suna sits up straighter with as neutral a smile as possible, stretching his arms above him, “of course. Everyone knows I call you that.”

“Everyone!?” you shriek, completely forgetting about the screws that urgently needed tightening only a few short minutes ago. Suna groans from the stretch, “yeah, my boss ate it up.”

“Your boss? Who, the trainer? The physiotherapist?” you ask with a laugh spilling from your mouth; unbelieving but at the same time awed that Suna talks to someone about you. Those are useless details to share.

“No, the bald guy who sponsors the team. The one who loves hugging you when you stop by practice and matches.”

You make a grimace at the memory. He’s truly a kind, middle-aged man but he is very touchy-feel and while you don’t mind a hug once in a while even from acquaintances, it is shrewd how many he tries to squeeze in there. Then, you shake your head at your husband, “you’re unbelievable you know that, right?”

You pretend to throw the screwdriver in his direction and he mock-dodges to the left and wipes his brow in relief when he successfully avoids the sharp object, “what is unbelievable is the fact that we brought the bed from our first apartment to our house. I feel like we deserve something to go with the rest.”

You grunt as you reach a screw that no matter how much you tighten it, it seems to go loose. You realize it’s not even the same as the others on this metal… thingy. “Rin…” you say and it sounds like a warning. Suna’s muscles tightens for a moment, “why is this screw different from the rest?”

he gulps loudly. He’d forgotten about it; spent so long hoping you’d never notice (or that the bed wouldn’t fall apart underneath you) that it disappeared into the back of his mind. He gets up to take a look as if he can’t imagine the exact screw you’re fiddling with.

“Oh, that one,” he tries to say breezily, hoping casual will be the correct path to take. You look up at him when you realize that he knows something; he shoots a picture of you instead before he continues, “uh, we couldn’t find the screw so Atsumu just put that one in, saying it was the right girth.”

Your eyebrows shoot to your forehead in such a speed that Suna’s sad he didn’t capture it on video, spluttering out incomprehensible sounds that might’ve been words, accidentally spitting on the floor in your vigor. Probably something about different screws having different purposes. Then, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, “and why didn’t you just call for me? I was right downstairs when you and Osamu assembled the bed! Why did Atsumu suddenly help you?”

Suna avoids your gaze by looking pointedly out the window; snow was falling and staying. Winter would be cold this year.

“Suna Rintarou,” you say sharply and a shiver runs up his spine. You enjoy seeing the reaction. He deflates, “you were sitting with my nephew who’d gotten hurt. I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You warm at his confession. His nephew had gotten hurt, running around as family and friends were carrying furniture and boxes into the newly bought house; a box he’d been curious about had fallen over him. All it needed was a kiss and a band-aid and he’d been fine, but you had sat with him and sang until he calmed down. You even think you scolded the box together with him.

You shake your head, “well I guess this screw has been holding out. We’ll just continue using it then.”

Suna rolls his eyes, “why don’t we just buy a new bed?” the question makes you laugh, “we have one that works perfectly fine, don’t we? We even upgraded the mattress when you first got on the National team!”

Suna rolls his eyes, “next time the clown bike’s back, I’m buying us a new bed.”

You give him a thumbs up before you crawl out from the frame, “yeah, yeah. Now put the mattress back with me, will you?”

“Sure, Tjiken.” he says with a sly smile. It’s the nickname his niece once started calling you out of nowhere. Your eyes widen and mouth drops open in an ‘o’ shape as you realize.

“Is my cute, familial nickname a child abbreviation of the word chicken!?”

He can’t tell if you find it funny that his whole family’s calling you chicken, or if you’re slightly horrified. Personally, he’s amused that you’re finally learning the truth that’s been common knowledge among his family members.

He can’t wait to start his own family with you someday, hopefully soon. Then, he’d find an equally silly name and teach your child to call you that. His eyes twinkle with excitement at the thought that you might do it back, too.

#suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x you #suna rintarou x you #haikyuu fluff #suna rintarou fluff #nohr.writing #nohr.hq #DHJASKDA AS A WARNING IVE HAD A MASSIVE PAIN DAY SO I CANT TELL IF THIS IS ENTIRELY COHERENT

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libraryofloveletters · 4 months

Text

Burnt

Darwin Nunez x Fem!Reader

Warnings: use of darwin's favourite phrase 'yeah man 😁', dinner parties are a lot of work, darwin is regretting his idea, wandering hands, almost pg-13, alexis is a cockblock and reader gets to play with darwin's hair loool

Word Count: 681

Author's Note: this whole idea came from me and pookie joking about how darwin would be like 'yeah man😁' to whatever you suggest lmao - this one's for you bookie @themandaloriansdiaries

Darwin suggests you host a dinner party at your place for a few of his teammates before you all head out for the holidays. He seems to have underestimate how much work goes into said party.

Your boyfriend suggested you do a little something at home to mark the end of the first half of the season, perhaps a party. You made him aware that throwing together an entire Christmas party in a week wouldn't be possible.

A dinner party would be more doable and Darwin being the darling he was, replied with a smile and his favourite phrase - "yeah man."

It would be a small party, 7 of you in total. You and Darwin, Lucho, Gera and their little girl, plus Alexis and his girlfriend. Your boyfriend wanted to get everyone together before you were all off for the holidays - Alexis headed home to Argentina, Lucho would be visiting family in Colombia and you and Darwin would be in Uruguay until their return to training.

You agreed to cook dinner rather than Cather, you figured it wouldn't be that difficult seeing that you prepped whatever you could ahead of time.

Darwin peeked into the kitchen, you had sent him out to fix the malfunctioning Christmas lights outside. "Need help?"

"Did you fix the lights?" You asked him, cutting the peppers.

He nods, getting water from the fridge, "yeah man, had to change the plug." He says, arms wrapping around you from behind. His chin rests on your shoulder, "is there anything I can do to help?"

"You can help me cook."

Darwin looked at the counter, the bowls and ingredients lined up were overwhelming. "You're using all this?"

"Yeah," you laughed, "all of this is prepped, you should have seen the place when you were at training yesterday."

Darwin lets go of you, "is there something else I can do?"

You grabbed his wrist, turning to face him before he could pull away. "These are your teammates, you're helping me cook, Darwin."

Never have you called him Darwin unless you were serious about it, and that you were.

The man nods, making him busy. He was more of a hazard than a help; he almost burnt the pasta for the mac and cheese, gagged at the touch of the raw chicken and nearly lost a finger while cutting stuff for a salad.

You take the knife from him, setting it aside to check his hand. "Jesus, be careful, will you?"

"Yeah man," he nods, "I got it."

The two of you finish up dinner earlier than expected, giving you more time to get ready.

Darwin was getting out of the shower as you finished up your makeup, looking for something for you to wear. You had just gotten dressed when he appeared in the room, shirt undo as was his hair. "Babbeeeeeeeeee," he calls, walking over to you as you were putting on your jewellery.

"What?" you looked at him in the reflection of the mirror.

He sits beside you, squeezing next to you on the bench in front of your vanity. "Can you do my hair? It's not going the way I want."

You get up, letting him sit properly as you grab the hair brush. "Do I have a choice?"

"No," he grins, leaning his head back for you to brush his hair.

You manage to get his hair into a bun, smoothing out all the bumps as you wrap the hair tie around it to secure it.

Darwin smiles, "perfect." He turns around, pulling you between his legs. "Thank you." He leans up and you meet him halfway, leaning down to kiss him. You can feel your boyfriend's hands rest on your ass, grabbing at it as he pulls you into him.

Just as you go to get on top of him, the doorbell rings. Alexis's voice carried from downstairs. "Open the door!"

You laughed, your boyfriend's face is against your side, groaning. "He's early," Darwin grumbles as he stands.

"You're late," you inform him, "it's 6:30, we invited them for 6."

"So he's late."

"Technically, yes." You did up the buttons on Darwin's shirt. "But you should have been ready by now."

"Not helpful, baby."

"Wasn't trying to be," you smiled, giving him one more kiss before you two headed down.

#holiday extravaganza blurbs 23 #darwin nunez #darwin nunez x reader #darwin nunez x you #darwin nunez x y/n #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football imagine #football blurb

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melonteee · 3 months

Note

Just saw someone’s wacko take on Whole Cake Island and I want to see your thoughts, as I get everyone had their own opinions but damn theirs made me baffled

Basically they said that Sanji being forced into marriage was completely unnecessary and was Oda’s terrible attempt to “fix” Sanji after the time skip. That we didn’t need to see how good of a person Sanji is as that was something already seen pre timeskip but was completely ruined post apparently

They then also claimed that Sanji’s blood family has no point of existing, and they questioned why he needed more story when his original backstory was enough. They claimed that this was a terrible attempt by Oda to make Sanji seem as broken as possible to apparently excuse his gross behaviour post time skip

They said that Sanji’s family being emotionless monsters shouldn’t mean anything to Sanji as he’s a pirate and faces cruel people all the time, they don’t think it added anything to his character. They believe Oda only did this to get people to like Sanji again after apparently assassinating his character post time skip

They also brought up Pudding being 16 (which we don’t know is true or not) and how that makes Sanji seem more gross and Oda gross by extension

Again I believe everyone can have their opinions, but when an opinion is as jaw droopingly awful as this it makes me want to slam my head against a wall, it’s also annoying that they’ve turned off comments to prevent any discussion really showing how stubborn they are on this

Anyway I wanted to see your thoughts as you are the no.1 Sanji fan

Sighssssss I cannot stand this "Oda wanted to 'fix' Sanji" idea these people have, because that just tells me...they literally do not pay attention to Sanji at all.

As always, yes, Sanji has pervy gags. Yes, he was a bit much in Fishman Island SPECIFICALLY, but he IS the same character.

Fishman Island showed his fierce care and love for Nami as a CREWMATE by telling Jinbe what the fuck Arlong did to her, because he was LITERALLY there for Arlong's defeat and nearly died with the others fighting for Nami! He spoke up for Nami as FAMILY and that means a LOT to her.

Punk Hazard showed his kindness towards Kinemon and the kids by helping Kinemon - a dangerous stranger - and helping the kids per Nami's request.

Dressrosa showed Sanji's kindness is so valued due to Viola breaking down and feeling safe with him, to the point she told him the truth about Dressrosa and Doflamingo.

Zou showed JUST how kind Sanji is by helping save an ENTIRE island, Pedro valuing his kindness SO MUCH he risked his life to help get Sanji back to his crew.

Sanji has never needed fixing, what Sanji NEEDED was an explanation for why the fuck he was a kid by himself on a sailing ship. He NEEDED an explanation for HOW he could be a kid from the north but somehow be in the east. He NEEDED an explanation for why he was so self sacrificing to the point he thought of giving his life - not just for Zeff, but for ANYONE - seemed like the best choice to him.

Yes, it wouldn't be a question if it was just for Zeff and the Baratie. But it wasn't just for Zeff, he also did it for Usopp, for Luffy, for Nami, for Zoro, for Robin. Sanji's self sacrificing nature was ROOTED in him, and we had no idea from WHERE.

In fact, his self worth was so little, he asked a LITERAL ADULT why he was being nice to him - when he was a KID! And as I said in my Sanji video, WHAT kid asks why an adult is treating them nicely? NO other kid in One Piece has asked an adult that, because they're kids!

The fact it was suspected Sanji's family were powerful from YEARS ago, due to the fact his face wasn't on posters, AND Duval was being endlessly chased after, AND Sanji was from the north, AND his blood type was rare, says plenty enough that it was TOTALLY necessary.

Sanji literally finds his worth in other people, and again, that didn't stem from Zeff! Zeff treasured Sanji to the point Zeff used his HANDS on him, so WHERE does this self-hating nature come from with Sanji?

And we get it! We get it with his WCI story! We see the depths of his soul, the peaks of his kindness, and just how extreme the HATRED for himself is. He didn't even think Luffy WANTED him because his self worth is THAT low.

But, most importantly, we see JUST how strong Sanji is due to STAYING kind - even WITH everything he's gone through. WCI is about SANJI'S strength of character, through and through, and calling that unnecessary is just INSANE to me. Again, it just tells me these people do not like Sanji at all, to the point they didn't pay much attention to him. Because of COURSE when you don't look behind you, but then someone appears in front of you, you're gonna go "?? now where did THAT come from??"

But literally anyone who pays attention to Sanji expected to find out about his family and his origins, because the seeds were there!

Overall, if you want the deep dive for why it was necessary? My Sanji video explains it all :]

#ask #melonask

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putaposyinyourhair · 10 months

Text

Slowly but Also Like All at Once

noah diaz x mirage (they’re def boyfriends)

warnings: goddamnit noah cheer up dude (also death/bodies mention)

mirage tones it down with the pet names but then comes in hot at the end with a big one + dad doesn’t seem to approve

“Is the rider part of Arcee?” Noah inquires, watching as the Ducati ahead navigates the curved exit ramp of the Sunrise Highway— Noah is kind of transfixed honestly, awed by the way the early morning light shines off of the pink and white finish of Arcee’s altmode.

“Nah, that’s holomatter,” Mirage reveals offhandedly.

“Holo-what?”

“It’s a projection,” the mech clarifies. “Can be light or solid. We use them to draw less attention to ourselves. Be kinda weird to see a bike drive itself, right?”

Noah nods. Definitely weird. His lips pout to one side, watching Arcee and mulling over the idea of hologram-like projections for a moment before he starts, wide gaze flashing down to Mirage’s radio.

“Wait, can you do that?” he questions pointedly.

“Yep,” Mirage pops the ‘p’ cheerfully, before his radio makes a small, muted buzzing sound. “Well… I used to.”

Noah stills.

“My projector was damaged pretty badly after Peru,” Mirage admits softly, kind of wistfully. “I can project light. I mean, sorta. It doesn’t last very long and it’s really buggy but…”

The mech trails off for a moment.

“I can’t do solid anymore,” he confesses finally, faintly.

Noah sinks into the seat, forced down by the sudden, all-encompassing guilt.

Shit.

“Ratchet tried to fix it but it’s just one of those things, y’know?” Mirage goes on, his pitch rising in volume as if in response to Noah’s physical reaction to his admission. “Bumblebee can’t talk. I can’t use holoforms. No biggie.”

The bot isn’t a very good liar, Noah realizes.

He has zero doubt in his mind that losing a piece of yourself like that has got to be terrible. But he’s not going to acknowledge that out loud though. Not when it’s probably his fault.

Damn it.

The inward confession makes his chest sting.

Noah shakes his head, not wanting to think on it anymore. He’s already cried once. He’s not about to do it again. Mirage is going to start thinking he’s some kind of giant wuss or something.

He sucks in a sharp breath and forces himself to lift and drop a shoulder.

“Who needs hologram—form…things,” he stammers out a bit awkwardly. “When you’re already cool as fuck anyway, dude.”

Mirage chuckles, the sound vibrating through the seat beneath Noah. The leather warms up for a moment and Noah realizes that comfort is exactly what that sensation is supposed to convey.

He’s just not sure it’s working this time around.

The seconds crawl by and neither of them moves to speak again and so they fall into a strange, sort of unsettling silence. Noah, for as much as he tries to not think about it, can only do just that; stew in the guilt.

Because it is his fault.

Mirage had almost died for him.

Mirage had to be rebuilt and repaired from practically the ground up because of him.

Mirage had lost parts of himself because of Noah.

Noah’s a walking, talking hazard around the mech.

He frowns, pulling his feet up onto the seat so he can wrap his arms around his legs and curl into himself— ignoring the way the seatbelt kind of digs into the skin of his neck. In the distance, amidst fog and cloud-cover, he can see Manhattan’s skyscrapers reaching for the heavens.

“Hey, Noah?”

He glances down at the radio— it’s backlight cycling through a few different colors; blue, yellow, green, and red, before it settles on its usual light blue.

“I’d do it all over again in a sparkbeat, y’know,” Mirage claims boldly. “If it meant keeping you safe.”

Noah’s eyes widen so quickly, he half expects his eyeballs to drop right out of his head for a moment. His breath catches in his throat and his chest heaves— his heart stuttering over a couple beats.

Oh, fuck.

Noah’s not one hundred percent sure, but he remembers Mirage once saying, ‘Cross my spark, hope to die,’ and so he assumes it to be the cybertronian version of a heart.

The declaration is… overwhelming, to say the least. In a good way.

But also in a way that Noah feels he is undeserving of.

It compels his own heart to keep pounding away, essentially doing somersaults underneath his ribcage. Which— under the recent revelation that Mirage can actually feel it thumping away— is embarrassing as all shit. But Noah can’t help it.

He’d do it all over again.

Noah doesn’t think Mirage even realizes how much that one sentence means. Or maybe he does. And he actually means it. Noah hopes that’s not true.

He never wants Mirage to do it again.

The radio warbles and Noah watches the backlight flicker again.

“Mirage,” Arcee’s voice comes through, clear and urgent. “We’re needed back at base-ops stat.”

Immediately, Mirage groans— in a long and suffering kind of way that reminds Noah of Kris every time he starts whining about how he still can’t get past Bowser.

“I’m gettin’ my aft chewed out for breems,” Mirage gripes with a sharp huff. “Fraggin’ Ratchet, man. Messin’ with my game. What a hater.”

Noah has no idea what half those words mean but he’s pretty sure he understands the gist of it all.

Which is why he isn’t all that surprised when, instead of driving back into Brooklyn, Arcee leads the way north into Queens and then across the East River into the Bronx.

Noah shifts quietly in his seat.

His ma’s gonna be so mad when he does eventually make his way home. He hasn’t checked in with her for hours, which is unlike him. And Breanna Diaz don’t play when it comes to her kids.

But at the same time, he thinks he can understand the sort of urgency a call from Optimus Prime himself might instill in the autobots.

Both he and Mirage are silent as they make their way into a neighborhood of the Bronx known as City Island— a fitting name. At this point, the sun has risen high up into the sky and the inhabitants of City Island are starting to slowly make their way outside in preparation for another day.

Arcee and Mirage pull into what looks like some kind of junkyard marina at the far end of the island, where old boats have been left to rust in every corner of the property, shadowed by dilapidated warehouses. At the water’s edge, a rickety dock bobs in response to the waves below it.

Noah reaches out and white-knuckles the Porsche’s door handle as Arcee and Mirage roll slowly over the surprisingly sturdy wooden slats of the dock. There’s an antiquated ferry at the end, and Noah does his best to hold in a frightened little yelp when both bots lift off the dock— only half-transforming for a second— so they can step onto the ferry.

Once they’re safely aboard, Arcee’s holoform swings her leg over the Ducati and heads off— Noah assumes to start up the ferry.

“You want out?” Mirage inquires, the driver side door popping open with a muted click.

Noah bites into his bottom lip, thinking for a moment. He thinks he knows exactly where they’re heading.

Hart Island is located just to the east of City Island. It’s a place that’s pretty much synonymous with death, with deserted buildings from different eras lying in an array of ruins all over it— the island having been left abandoned to its’ own destruction since the late seventies.

Honestly, it’s kind of the perfect place for the autobots to hide out.

Noah’s not going to lie and say that it doesn’t freak him out though. Supposedly, there’s thousands of bodies buried in the ground at Hart Island.

So he shakes his head and shimmies away from the open door— not ready to step out quite yet. Mirage quickly closes it with another soft click.

“Okay,” he acknowledges. “I gotchu.”

Noah decides he really needs his friend to stop reminding him of that fact.

He knows.

The ferry sputters to life beneath them and after a moment, it rocks forward— pulling away from the dock lazily.

Noah inhales deeply then blows it out through his nose. And forces himself to think about something else, anything else— aside from the fact that he’s currently on a rusting metal death trap headed towards a possibly haunted island to face alien life forms that probably don’t even like him.

His distraught gaze lands on the Ducati parked off to the Porsche’s right.

“Arcee help you sneak out?” he questions. If a holoform is needed to operate the ferry, it has to be the only explanation. Right?

“Yeah,” Mirage admits, but not like he’s shy about it— more like he’s proud of it. “She’s a real G.”

Noah can’t help the smile the words pull from him.

He’s glad that, despite what he thinks is a clear disdain for him on the part of Optimus, Arcee doesn’t seem to hold any negative opinions when it comes to Noah.

He knows Optimus sees him— them, humans— in a different light now. That the battle in Peru— and both Noah and Elena’s drive to fight for their planet— had changed the giant mech’s opinion of the human race.

But the surly leader of the autobots had only begrudgingly allowed Noah to try and fix Mirage, at first, at the behest of Arcee and Bumblebee. When he’d failed, Optimus had been quick to change his mind, quick to take Mirage away.

Leaving Noah wondering, for months, if he’d ever see his friend again. His best friend, probably.

He’s quickly starting to realize Mirage means that much to him.

“Aw, scrap,” Mirage grumbles suddenly, his altmode shuddering slightly around Noah.

Noah looks up from the steering wheel— from the spot he’d been staring at whilst in his head— to see another dock gradually approaching. Rusting, multi-colored shipping containers stacked at its edge, providing cover for the two autobots standing just beyond them; Optimus Prime and an unfamiliar blue and white autobot with a star of life insignia across his chest plates.

Noah assumes he must be the infamous hater; Ratchet. An immediate thought tickles at the back of Noah’s mind as he recalls his first contact with the autobots in that warehouse months ago.

He frowns.

“How’s Ratchet ‘round humans?” he asks warily, just as the ferry gently bumps into the edge of the dock, their short trip across the water coming to a, thankfully, safe end.

Mirage’s radio drones out a low buzzing sound and Noah takes it for exactly what it is: Ratchet is not a fan of Earth’s native species.

“It’s okay, though!” Mirage advises him cheerily as Noah watches Arcee’s holoform return. “I got your back, bro.”

Noah isn’t all that convinced. Not that he doesn’t trust Mirage or anything.

And it must show on his face because as soon as they’re off the ferry— Mirage gently pushing him out of the Porsche’s cabin, so he can transform into his natural rootmode, Arcee doing the same beside them— he leans down closer to Noah, who is staring up at the clear disapproval on the faces of both Optimus and Ratchet.

“He’s not as mean as he looks, I swear,” Mirage testifies in what Noah thinks is supposed to be a whisper but is clearly heard by the others, including Ratchet who scowls at Mirage. “I won’t let him mess witchu, cariño.”

Noah absolutely freezes.

… what.

#noah x mirage #norage #noah diaz #mirage #mirage rotb #transformers rise of the beasts #transformers rotb #mirage x noah

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