JJK Characters Reacting To You Squirting For The First Time

rip my ribcage open (devour what’s truly yours)

zoro x f!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: tummy-pusher zoro, squirting, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, prone bone, chokehold, slight breath play, creampie, violent imagery, religious imagery, bit of aftercare.

zoro thinks you might be trying to say his name.

he’s knelt between your legs, sitting back on his haunches and rocking his hips just enough to fuck you with the fat tip of his cock. there’s a rhythm to the unsteady rise and fall of your chest. short inhale, long exhale, the same way you always sigh his name when he’s reduced you to this.

tears dotting your lashes, drool seeping from the corner of your mouth, hips bucking mindlessly trying to get him to slip in deeper.

fuck, you’re hungry for it.

Keep reading

Post-Injury Hurt/Comfort Series - Monster Trio

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Reader: GN

Word Count: 3.3k

CW: blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, stitches

Ao3 Link

After writing The Break, I've always wanted to do drabbles of the same scenario for other characters, so here we are. ( 0v0)/

Luffy

It happens in an instant. One moment, you’ve brought your mace down on the head of the lion Zoan, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. You collapse next to his body, exhausted from the fight.

The next moment, the lion Zoan lunges at you from the floor, one massive paw smashing into your face with all the strength of their devil fruit, sickle claws tearing your flesh open.

You go flying. You hit the ground hard, leaving a smear of blood from your body skidding. Dazed, you try and get your bearings, berating yourself for letting your guard down early, praying it didn’t cost you the fight. The lion Zoan snarls and charges you.

“Gum-Gum Whip!”

The sight of your captain intercepting your opponent brings a heavy relief–if Luffy’s finished with his own opponent, that means your part is done, too. You can finally catch your breath.

With the rest comes the dull, burning pain across your face. The enemy mostly got you in the nose and mouth, miraculously missing your eyes. Blood runs from your nose and mouth and drips from your chin, bleeding as heavily as a head wound. Still, you’re not too concerned. It’s only when the rest of the crew catches up to you and you try to talk that you realize how much damage the lion did, because not only does speaking hurt, but Nami makes a face at the sight of you.

The local anesthetic that Chopper gives you helps a little bit, but it still hurts when he realigns your nose and stitches up the gashes. Luffy holds your hand the entire time, knowing you hate needles.

“Good job, Y/n!” Luffy says after Chopper’s done. “You’re real tough!”

“Thanks, Captain.” You sigh. “I would have been fine if I hit him again, but I thought he was down. I forgot how resilient Zoans can be.”

“You didn’t want to kill him.”

“I know, I shouldn’t take these fights so lightly–”

“Y/n, that’s a good thing.” Luffy stretches an arm around your shoulder. “You’re a good person. Besides, I was able to take him out easily because of the damage you did.”

“Nami looked horrified when she saw my face,” you say. “I must look like a mess.”

“You do,” Luffy says honestly, making you smile–which pulls on your stitches.

“Owww, oh…smiling hurts.”

“Then don’t smile!”

“I can’t help it. You make me smile. You know this.”

Luffy rubs his chin, eyes rolling up as he thinks. “Then I should stay away from you.”

“Nooo, don’t do that! I need you around to cheer me up! Especially now.” You take his hand that’s hanging around your shoulder, feeling your chest lighten when he squeezes back.

“Well, in that case, I’ll just not make you smile!” he says.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” You chuckle, then look at the mirror hanging on the wall. If you need to lower your mood, there’s an easy shortcut–the combination of your inflamed, swollen skin, plus the stitches make you look nothing short of monstrous.

Luffy notices your face falling. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s going to scar. And not even in a cool way.” Living with severe facial scarring probably won’t be that bad–you are a pirate, after all–but it’ll still be new. And, to be honest, you’re not ready for your appearance to change so dramatically.

“What are you talking about? It’ll be super cool!” Luffy says earnestly. “Everyone will know what a strong pirate you are!”

He’s trying to cheer you up. You don’t want to bring him down in the dumps with you, but you can’t help but be bummed out.

“But what if I don’t want to look cool?” you say. “What if I just want to look like me? I mean, who could possibly find a face like this appealing?” You ghost your fingers over the stitches on your lips. “Who would kiss lips like mine?”

You think you’re holding it in okay, but the admission has you tearing up. You’re being ridiculous–you should be happy to be alive. But why did it have to be your face? Why…

Luffy stares at you in that way he does when he’s thinking. You can’t tell what’s going through his mind.

It happens in an instant.

One moment you’re sitting next to each other in silence. The next moment, he wraps his other arm around you, pulls you in close, and lightly presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

It hurts a little, but it also feels so good that your tears break free and sting where they roll over your cuts.

“Did that hurt? I’m sorry, Y/n,” Luffy says when he pulls away.

“No, no! It was nice! It was really nice.” You have to fight not to smile.

“Oh, good! I liked it too!” he giggles, looking overjoyed.

“When I heal up, will you do that again?”

“I can do it right now!” Luffy says eagerly, but you clear your throat and tilt your head toward the doorway.

Chopper is standing there, little hooves on his hips, thoroughly unimpressed with the both of you and your method of boosting morale.

Zoro

Zoro was always one to downplay his injuries. Next to Chopper, you gave him the most trouble for it out of anyone in the crew. He figured that so long as he got medical attention, the extent of the injuries was no big deal.

He never expected to be on the receiving end.

In the heat of battle, he’s entirely focused on his opponent. This enemy crew is tough, but not the strongest they’ve faced. Strong enough to demand his full concentration.

However, Zoro knows the unique sound of a sword cutting through flesh. When he hears the shhk! noise behind him and remembers you’re also fighting a sword user, he’s so badly distracted he almost gets hit. He has just enough presence of mind to finish off his enemy before turning around.

That’s when he sees you fire a bullet into your opponent’s leg, your free arm wrapped around your stomach. There’s blood seeping between your fingers. In the time it takes him to rush to your side, you shoot your opponent again in the other leg, making him crumple, then once in each arm, rendering him completely unable to fight back from where he lays.

“Yo,” you say casually, but you’re trembling all over. Your torn shirt is staining quickly.

“You got cut,” Zoro states. He tries to pull your arm away so he can see your wound better, but you step back.

“I’m okay,” you say. You and Zoro both look down at your abdomen as you pull your arm away just slightly, and Zoro sees the unmistakable grayish-pink of your large intestine before you quickly plug up the gash with your arm again. You look back up at him. “It’s just a scratch.”

Zoro’s about ready to stab you himself, his eyes going wide with horror and rage. 

“Are you insane?!” he shouts. “A scratch?! Shit, where’s Chopper–?!”

“Ha ha–ow ow ow, hurts to laugh.” You grin, but Zoro notices you tearing up from the pain.

“Okay, just, stay still,” his hands are held up hesitantly, unsure of what to do, and he calls over his shoulder. “CHOPPER! Get over here right now!”

Once Chopper arrives, he applies an emergency field dressing and instructs Zoro on how to safely carry you back to the ship’s infirmary. You act like you’re in high spirits the entire way there, smiling up at Zoro like everything’s fucking dandy.

“This is kinda nice,” you say. “I haven’t been carried since I was little.”

“After you heal,” Zoro says, “I’ll carry you around as much as you want, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he says gently. “Does it hurt?”

“Of course not,” you say, and Zoro curses himself for having asked–he can see you wince with every harsh step he tries to avoid.

“We’re almost there. Almost there.”

“Relax, big guy. I’ve been through worse.”

You haven’t. He’s been in every major fight you’ve been through, and it’s never been this bad. Your blood is still warm on his skin, and your color’s getting paler, and it’s all because he couldn’t protect you.

The surgery takes longer than he thought. He’s pacing the hallway outside the infirmary so much that even Sanji starts to make a comment, which would have started a fight had Robin not intervened and sternly told them both that everyone was worried.

When you come to, it’s to the sight of Zoro standing over your bed. You don’t manage so much as a ‘yo’ before Zoro gets onto his hands and knees, bowing so low his head touches the floor.

“I’ll never let it happen again!” he says, minding his volume–Chopper is only allowing him to visit because Zoro promised he wouldn’t stress you out. “It’s my fault! I’m sorry–”

“Get up.” 

He peers up at you. Your face is twisted up like you’re holding something back, but you force it into a sneer.

“Get up right now, or I’m going to make fun of you,” you say. He hesitates long enough for you to roll your eyes. “Don’t be a pussy.”

That brings him right back to his feet. “What’d you call me?!”

“You heard me,” you say. “I’m alive, aren’t I? So relax.”

“I can’t relax!” Zoro snaps. “You got hurt because of me! I was too weak! I couldn’t–couldn’t stop this from happening!”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever?!” He no longer minds his volume. “How can you be so–so calm about this?!”

“How can you be making this about yourself?”

That shuts him up real quick. Realizing his mistake, Zoro starts to get a sour feeling in his stomach, but you only smile.

“Now you know what it feels like,” you chuckle and wince, “ow–what it feels like to have someone be dismissive of your injuries. So the next time you get hurt, you big dumb idiot, how about you have some self awareness and let me worry?”

Zoro deflates a little. “I still can’t just forgive myself like that.”

“I’ll do it for you.” You hold out your hand until he takes it. “Roronoa Zoro, I forgive you–so long as you do one thing for me.”

He leans in. “Anything. What is it?”

“Even with the pain meds, I’m still sore. Kiss it better?” You smile the way you do when you’re joking, but it soon turns to a look of surprise when Zoro leans in even closer. He hesitates for a moment, face hovering above yours, before his free hand comes to cradle the back of your head and he presses a firm, intent kiss to your lips.

You stare at him when he pulls away, your expression slowly morphing into a smile–not a playful one, not a masking one, but a real smile.

“W-What’s with that look?” Zoro says, flustered now. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“I meant kiss my stomach, dummy.”

Zoro’s eyes widen, but before he can remedy his mistake, you weakly pull him back in for another kiss. This time, he obliges without question.

Sanji

Sanji barely dodges a brutal strike from his opponent, then finishes them off with a flaming kick to the skull. You grin at him as you down your own opponent with a heavy strike from one of your tonfa.

“Careful there, Hotfoot! He almost got you!” you yell gleefully, only to narrowly avoid getting hit yourself.

“Worry about yourself, Sticks!” Sanji calls back, mirroring your grin.

“They’re not sticks!” you say yet again, smashing one of the tonfa into a pirate’s head and knocking them out cold. “You’re just jealous I can fight with my hands!”

“I choose not to fight with my hands!”

“Sure you do!”

You were well aware of Sanji’s commitment to only use his hands to cook, but it was still fun to pretend it was a skill issue. Sanji knew it was all teasing anyway. The two of you greatly enjoyed your banter, whether in or outside of battle. As physical fighters, your rivalry was a friendly one. After all, out of everyone in the crew, you spent the most time talking to each other.

The next wave of pirates comes, this time stronger than before–the enemy’s commanding officers. The battle becomes too serious for you to go on making comments, and your focus gets pulled toward your opponents.

It’s a hard, bloody fight. As soon as he defeats his opponent, he worries about how the others are faring. The rest of the crew is almost done with their own one-on-ones, and he finds himself rushing to find you first, his pace hurrying when he finds one of your tonfa lying off to the side.

You’re straddling your opponent on the ground. Your non-dominant hand is broken, held crookedly against your chest, and you’re bleeding from your hairline and mouth. With your good hand, you beat your tonfa into your opponent’s skull, over and over, a broken cry tumbling from your bloody lips with every strike. Your opponent is no longer moving, but you don’t stop, tears streaming from your eyes as you mash his face to a visceral pulp.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Sanji skids to a stop next to you, grabbing your wrist before you can strike again. “He’s dead! It’s over. It’s over. You won.”

You look at him with wide eyes. Your mouth is held open, and at first, Sanji doesn’t realize what’s wrong, but he can tell you only won by a hair from the way you’re trembling. He gets down and pulls you into a gentle hug. “I got you,” he says. “I got you. You’re okay now.”

He holds you at arm’s length and checks over your body for any injuries, finding none. Mouth still open, you pull away from him and start patting the grass with your good hand, searching for something. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he says. “Please, say something.”

Sanji expects something tired and sarcastic, like ‘you don’t look much better.’ Instead, you make a strange, groaning noise as your response, and he feels a chill run through his body. You always had a quick retort for him, even when things were dire.

You seem to find what you were looking for, your hand closing around something. Sanji helps you stand up, and when you open your hand, he sees a few teeth in your palm that must have gotten knocked out.

“Your jaw’s broken,” Sanji realizes aloud, and you nod, and suddenly the way you hold your mouth open is deeply unsettling.

The silence that follows your surgery, however, puts Sanji at an even greater unease. Your jaw is wired shut to let the bone heal, and Chopper says that for the next six weeks, you won’t be able to speak at all.

You carry around a notepad with you, but for a while after you wake from the anesthesia, you don’t write anything down except to answer Chopper’s questions, opting instead to sulk.

“Come on, Sticks,” Sanji says lightly as he signs the cast on your hand. “I know you have something to say.”

You flick him off with your good hand, then seem to regret it, your face fallin along with your hand. Sighing through your nose, you grab your notepad and scribble something down, then hold it up for him to see.

‘I look like a chipmunk.’

The lower half of your face has, naturally, swollen up. Sanji shakes his head. “No, no, you look fine! You…” A pointed look from you makes him concede. “Okay, yeah. It’s swollen. What did you expect?” You look away, and he pats your shoulder. “Ah, come on, it’s not so bad. Most people find chipmunks cute, you know.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you give him a look of surprise. Sanji stiffens.

“Um, well, I mean…” he stammers. Though he doesn’t leave, for the rest of that day, you both avoid looking at each other.

From the beginning to the end of your healing process, Sanji stays by your side, always finding a way to make you feel better. He’ll hype you up by doing a drumroll while he’s waiting for you to finish writing out a thought, something which the rest of the crew picks up as well. When you’re hanging out with him in the galley, he’ll do hibachi tricks with the food he prepares to cheer you up.

The food he makes for you especially helps you get through the long weeks. You were severely bummed out at having to miss his cooking for weeks–until the first sip of the soup he cooked. You never knew a liquid diet could be so delicious. Sanji takes the time to roast and blend anything you’d wanted. Thanks to him, being unable to chew food doesn’t affect your nutrient intake at all.

He also indulges you in your favorite drink without you having asked, which is surprising. It’s not the first time he’s gone out of his way like this, but it does feel more special when you’ve been in such a vulnerable state.

‘Maybe there’s an upside to this after all.’

Sitting in the galley while Sanji cooks, you hold up your notepad for him to read.

“And what is that?” he says, walking around the prep table with a mixing bowl in his arms, looking down at what you’re writing.

‘I love y’

You pause, staring at your notepad with a weird, dumbstruck look. Sanji’s eyes widen, slowing down his mixing for a second, but you quickly recover and finish scribbling.

‘I love you treating me extra special.’ You hold up the notepad hesitantly, avoiding his eye. 

Though feeling warmth rise in his chest, Sanji plays it cool. “Well, I’m glad you’re finding the positive in this,” he says. “I personally miss the sound of your voice.”

You drop your notepad and fumble to catch it with only one good hand, accidentally smacking it to the floor. Both you and Sanji crouch down to pick it up, and freeze when your hands touch.

The urge to say ‘sorry’ is strong, though you can’t speak. Face burning, all you can do is look at him apologetically and hope he understands. But when you do, he’s looking back at you with the same expression he has when he reads a brand new recipe. Like he’s figuring something out.

You go to pull your hand away, but his fingers close around yours. “I, uh… I really mean that, you know.”

Swallowing, you glance down at his hand holding yours, then back up at him, and nod.

“Y/n,” he says, letting go of your hand to instead cup your cheek tenderly. “Would you… I mean. Can I…?”

With your heart pounding, you nod again, and Sanji leans in. You close your eyes, and a moment later, his lips brush yours, feather-light. Just that barest contact makes your head spin almost as bad as it did when you got your injury in the first place.

Sanji breaks free, and you stare at each other. A slow smile spreads across your lips at the sight of his nose starting to bleed. You both stand up, and you write something down quickly.

‘I’m sorry I can’t kiss you back.’

“That’s okay,” he says, reading the note over your shoulder. He rubs the back of his neck, grinning. “I’ll gladly do all the work.”

And Sanji does, in the quiet, private moments where it’s just the two of you. And yet, when the day finally comes for Chopper to remove the wires, and the first thing you do upon leaving the exam room is call out Sanji’s name, he’s so elated that he picks you up with a spin, kissing you in front of everyone before he can help himself.

Hi !!! Just found your blog recently- absolutely love how you write the comfort pirates :< !!🫶 if you’re open to requests (if not, pls ignore!! It’s not a need ^_^) would it be okay for strawhat and/or heart pirates (you chose which characters! Doesn’t have to be all) headcannons with a reader who losses their emotional support stuffie?

It’s not a big plush, a small one that could fit in your pocket- something simple and easy to hold or squeeze, but when they lose it they get kinda anxious :( they try to hide it from the crew tho, it’s pretty childish heh.. (and if it is, again no need to write agshdjfk)

Thank you!! Keep up the great work, and take care of yourself! Have a great night/day <3

thank you! you're so sweet <3 this idea sounds SO cute, i was definitely excited to write this one! I'm so sorry for the long wait, my laptop crashed and needs to be repaired so I'm doing all my requests on my phone which takes so much longer :(

taglist - @kabloswrld

plushie (Straw Hats + Law)

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader

summary - the ask above

warnings - none

ZORO

You panic, the anxiety of losing your comfort plushie too much for you to handle.

But you won't go to Zoro or anyone else for help, thinking that they'll just make fun of you.

Especially Zoro, he can be quite mean even unintentionally.

So you search all over the ship yourself, worry and fear steadily increasing.

You hoped and prayed no one else found it before you, because surely they would laugh at you and tease you to no end.

"Babe what are you looking for?" Zoro grumbles after a few hours of you refusing to cuddle him in favour of searching for your plushie. "And why is it so important?"

It helped you cope. With stress, with anxiety, with any problem you faced. It was comforting, and it relaxed you. Keeping it close made you feel secure, safe and sound. But you didn't tell him that.

You tried not to look too desperate, or else the others might ask you as well.

"This what you looking for?"

You almost died on the spot when you turned around to see your boyfriend holding your plushie up, a huge grin on his face.

"Zoro-"

"It's kind of cute, actually," he studied it. "But you have me, you know that right?"

You sighed and explained that this plushie was for when he was training, and you tried to get him to swear not to tell anyone but...

Zoro is a menace so he tells everyone.

SANJI

You know Sanji would not make fun of you for it, in fact he would probably think it's cute and compliment you and the plushie non-stop, but you still didn't tell him.

His compliments, although good-natured, would make you feel like a child, and you didn't want that embarrassment.

But searching for your plushie isn't easy, because the Sunny is huge.

So staying inconspicuous while looking for your comfort source is quite difficult, and there are moments when Sanji does suspect you're acting weirdly but you try to avoid him when he starts staring.

"Are you okay, my love?" He asks you every fifteen minutes, his concern growing by the second.

You laugh it off nervously, "Yes, love! Just making sure everything is clean."

At that point everyone knows something is off because who other than Franky and Usopp worries about the Sunny THAT much?

Eventually Sanji finds the plushie, but he's a bit confused. Is this what you're looking for?

To save you what he assumes would be embarrassment, since you haven't shown it to him before, he keeps it in your shared room and plans to ask you about it later.

When you don't find it by the end of the day, you feel like you want to cry. Your emotional support...gone. Just like that.

You don't expect to walk into your room and find Sanji sitting on your shared bed studying it curiously.

"Sanji," your eyes go wide, "Where did you find that?"

He looked up at you and smiled, "Under the bed! Is this what you've been looking for, my love? It's as cute as you are!"

You blush MADLY, walking over tentatively, "Please don't tell the others. They'll only laugh."

"I promise it's our secret," he grinned, then gave it back to you. "But love, you know you can come to me for anything, right?"

You smiled and nodded, kissing his cheek, relieved to have your plushie back with only one crewmember in the know.

LUFFY

You don't tell Luffy about your plushie because you're afraid he might steal it.

He's just childish in general, so you only worried about the others finding out.

When you lose it, you panic immediately thinking Luffy found it and took it.

Your anxiety worsened when you realised he might show it to the crew, because he hides absolutely nothing from everyone.

You can't ask him though...in fear of him not actually having it and then finding out.

Luffy doesn't notice your frantic searching, because of course he's too oblivious to.

You search every nook and cranny of the Sunny, dejection settling in when you still couldn't find it.

That is, until you walked in on Luffy holding it up while in the kitchen, and you thanked God that no one was around.

"Luffy!" You quickly grab it from him and cradle it against your chest protectively, glaring at him instinctively.

He pouted, "But it's cute! Tell me what it is, (Name), because it's almost as cute as you!"

You blushed, but told him anyway, "It's my emotional support plushie. But you can't tell anyone, Luffy!"

"But why do you need it? You have me!" He cheefully stated, theb frowned, "Why can't I tell anybody?"

"Because they will all laugh!"

He pouted more and agreed to not tell anyone.

You should have known better. He told everyone.

"LUFFY!"

LAW

Law already knows, sorry.

There is literally nothing you can keep hidden from this man.

But he pretends not to know, because he doesn't want to intrude on your privacy and he knows that if you wanted to tell him then you would have.

He also notices when you lose it and start searching the submarine whenever you could without arousing suspicion.

Bepo, Shachi and Penguin were nice but you knew the latter two would make fun of you.

"Are you okay, (Name)-ya?" Law's concerned voice startles you in the middle of turning your shared room upside-down in your desperate search.

You freeze, your eyes going wide, "Law-"

"You can tell me what you're looking for," he encouraged, "You can tell me anything, you know that."

You sighed and bit your lip, "Okay, it's this small, palm-sized plushie I use for comfort...I know it's childish-"

Law stopped you by holding something up - the plushie in question.

Your eyes widened, "Where did you- how- Thanks babe!" You smiled wide and reached for it, taking it gratefully and squeezing it to calm your nerves. "But can you please-"

"I won't say a word to anyone," he promised, sighing as he brought you close and wrapped his arms around you. "I know I'm not around as often as you'd like, but you still have me. You can still come to me. Okay?"

You smiled and nodded, "Okay."

"Good," he smiled and kissed the top of your head. "You're cute you know that? Cuter than that stuffed animal."

USOPP

Usopp, bless him, is the one who found your plushie before anyone else did.

But, curse him, he decided to withhold it until you asked for help finding it, because he sees how distraught you are and doesn't like it.

And he's sad that you don't trust him enough to tell him about it and that you don't trust him to have a mature reaction.

You look all over the Sunny, trying to be discreet so that no one asked you about what you were looking for.

And then you noticed the weird, hurt looks that your boyfriend was giving you, which made you frown.

Were you neglecting him in your search- no time for that, you had to find your plushie before someone else on the crew did, an outcome you dreaded most.

A few hours later, you were on the cusp of just giving up and sobbing, until Usopp walked up to you and handed your plushie to you.

"Usopp-"

"You could have told me," he frowned, "I would never make fun of you."

He started to walk away, but you stopped him.

"I know, I'm sorry," you sighed. "I just thought that it's so childish, I was too embarrassed to say anything."

"Well you shouldn't have been embarrassed cause it's not childish," he grinned, "It's actually cute and...oddly comforting."

"Right!" You smiled. "So you won't tell anyone?"

"Of course not! What do you take me for? I'm not Luffy!"

"Thanks babe."

nothing has made me feel like an ancient grumpy crone more than the “using chatgpt for school is fine actually” sentiment among youths

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Please do not impersonate me and delete comments stating it, I will report the accounts. Please be careful too- Although I have been vocal on all of my accounts, this is my Instagram!

Thank you!

You know what's better than fluff? Dark fluff.

The kind where devotion borders on obsession, where love isn't just tender—it's consuming.

"I'd do anything for you, love," he murmurs, voice smooth, unwavering. "Anything you desire, and it's yours."

And the other doesn't hesitate, voice laced with something raw, something desperate.

"I want her to split me open—dig her fingers into my ribs and pry them apart. To hold my heart in her hands, feel the pulse of it against her palms, my blood staining her skin. I want her to pick my bones clean, crack them open, suck the marrow dry. I want to be ruined by her, consumed until there's nothing left of me but the taste of her name on what's left of my tongue."

Because love, when it’s deep enough, is a hunger—one that begs to be fed.

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My Fan Merch policy may change as I actually begin creating Welcome Home, but at this moment in time I ask for you NOT to sell or buy merchandise of Welcome Home on places like Etsy, RedBubble, conventions, etc. I will work on removing them at my own pace. (I am very sorry to do this, but to see folks so quickly move to profit off of my work is very strange.) Even if it is for yourself on larger sticker or shirt websites, please make it yourself and do not have it listed publicly to be sold and bought by others.

Please do not sell images or characters that have Welcome Home attached to their inspiration (I only ask that you remove the title, 'Welcome Home!' I don't mind that they are inspired, but Welcome Home is very important to me, please do not attach it to your work to sell characters!)

Also if you are a company (Similarly to the likes of Hot Topic, you know) You may NOT sell Welcome Home Merchandise of any kind. Again, I am not involved with anyone at the moment in regards to merchandise, please respect the pace at which I handle this newfound workload.

HOWEVER, I think I am fine if you commission One-off pieces from other artist. (Small plushes, tattoo designs, crotchet works, etc!) As long as they are not sold in mass supply or advertised as such! I also don't mind if you make it for yourself or your friends, too! Or even make it for yourself! Thank you all for respecting my restrictions and time!

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

lord take away all of megan thee stallion’s pain and please give it to biden

Mission Impossible

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Word count: 33k

Fluff | Smut

Rosita embarks on mission impossible, and it results in Daryl almost getting into a fistfight at a bonfire.

or

Jealous Daryl. Protective Daryl. Lowkey possessive Daryl (my toxic trait is that I love this trope). What more could you want?

He wonders, for a second, if you forgot about him.

Though, Daryl hasn’t put himself in a position to be noticed by you quite yet. He’s standing by the doorway as he watches you take care of your day-to-day monotonies; admiring you, that’s what Rick would call it - makin’ eyes if Merle was here - and maybe they’re right, but he can’t tear his gaze away.

Pen between fingers, your tongue flicks out to wet your lips, eyebrows attempting to meet as you scrunch them confused. You’re not writing anything, he notices, and your non-dominant hand rises from the edge of the textbook to trace along the sentence you’re seemingly trying to comprehend. It’s simple, the movements are nothing groundbreaking - nothing particularly eye-catching - but it’s moments like these when Daryl feels a particular dull gnaw of longing.

He can’t call it a longing of his old life - not when all he remembers is drifting, an asshole redneck with an even bigger asshole for a brother - but of the old world, he guesses. One of them, at least. A kinder one to both you and him.  

One where he met you and wooed you through Black Sabbath concerts. Or one where you’re both younger - where he’d try and help you through your exams even though he’s about as dumb as a bag of rocks if you’d showed him just a page of whatever you were studying. Just… one where Daryl didn’t have to visit you every few days about some stitches threatening to pop off his skin or about how a fractured rib is healing up.

Shaking the thoughts away, he runs a hand through his hair and takes a step forward. Then another and another, clunky boots not making a single noise as he closes the gap between your doorway and your desk. He raises an eyebrow when you don’t seem to acknowledge him though he’s standing just a few inches from you, and he bites the inside of his bottom lip when he hears you sigh.

“Everythin’ okay?”

His voice breaks your concentration and your head lifts rather abruptly to him, the usual blankness of his expression morphing into an upwards tug of his lips when yours breaks out into a smile. Ever since Carol told him that you only smile like that when you see him, Daryl can’t stop wondering if she’s right. It makes his heart scramble for balance, but he never finds it - can never find it when he’s around you - and he doesn’t even really know if he wants to.

“Every word in here’s like fifteen letters long.”

Putting down your pen, you lean back and rub at your eyes, the action much too cute for his poor heart to take, and he thinks he may crumble into the ground if he keeps looking. Though, his eyes stick onto you, months of stolen glances forming a habit he can’t quite break yet. When he knows you can’t see him - when he knows you’re not going to catch him staring - he can’t help but to.

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