#I would have thought custard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

merakiui · 2 months

Note

Helloooo! I’d like to order a flower bouquet + strawberry ice cream from the misc. menu as well as some lemon squares + custard donuts from the midnight menu for Scaramouche <3

yandere!scaramouche x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, dub-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, friends with benefits, forced pregnancy/baby-trapping (no pronouns; reader has a pussy), modern college au note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

You’re writing a paper.

Sitting at your desk, scrolling through clothes online, you wonder if your meager paycheck will cover the shipping costs. This is all research. Research that is very necessary in the paper-drafting process, of course! You click on an outfit just as Scaramouche looks up from his phone.

Correction. You’re trying to write a paper.

“Great progress. I can really see the thought you put into this.”

“I’m envisioning it as we speak.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem to be getting you anywhere.” He sets his phone down and leans closer. “Last I checked you’re not writing about clothes.”

“Last I checked,” you say, mocking him, “I didn’t ask for commentary. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

A smug smile sharpens on his face. “I can think of a few things.”

Groaning, you shove him away. “No way. Not today.”

“Why not? It didn’t seem to bother you that last time when we did it before your lecture. You were so out of it you didn’t want me to leave you alone. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Not my fault I was tired! Don’t tell me you’ve never said and done stupid things when you’re running on three hours of sleep.”

“Not once,” he declares, looking quite proud. As if it’s some grand achievement. Does he want an award? “And even if I was, I wouldn’t be reduced to sugary, sappy putty.”

“I called you ‘sweetheart’ once by mistake. Get over it.”

Scaramouche rests his elbow on the desk, his cheek in his hand. “I don’t think I want to.”

Shutting your laptop, you turn in your chair to face him. “And I don’t think I want to fuck you today.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Oh, you’re gonna do all the work?”

“That’s the plan. Be grateful I’m so good to you,” he teases, leaning closer and closer until—

You block your lips before he can capture them. “I really can’t today. Paper aside, I don’t have any protection and I’m not on birth control right now.”

“It doesn’t have to be inside.” He sits back in his chair, exuding casual confidence. “Unless you want to risk it.”

You try to put enough ice in your glare, but it melts quickly. You really shouldn’t. It’s not a safe day. You really, really shouldn’t…

Scaramouche raises a brow, waiting for your reply.

Despite everything, you’re wheedled into it anyway. You’re not even sure what you want. Is it yes or no? It’s been months since you fell into this arrangement with him—the campus’s infamous lone wolf who goes out of his way to make himself unapproachable. Or, according to your friends, he’s more of a lonely stray cat in need of a friend. Scaramouche had scoffed when you told him that.

Your friends are idiots, he said with a scowl. It only made him look even more like a grumpy cat in need of companionship. Not that you’d ever tell him that. It would only serve to stoke the flames of his ire.

But right now, looking up at him while he ruts into you, sweat sticking in all the right places, his hair falling over his eyes, you’re inclined to agree with that observation. There’s a depth to his gaze that draws you in, a sad glimmer hiding behind the ardor. There’s never been any attachment outside of the bedroom. You’re not even sure if he considers you a friend.

Still, you wonder…

“Scara, do you—” You cut yourself off with a startled gasp, your nails curling into his shoulders. He’s holding you down by your hips, fucking into you like the world’s about to end. “S-Slow down. Wait, I—aah—oh!”

He sucks in a staggered breath through grit teeth, his jaw set firmly. “You’re never going to leave me.”

Your brain stalls out, and suddenly you’re not sure how to respond. He doesn’t lessen the brutal pace at which he thrusts, so you’re forced to piece together a half-coherent answer amidst your groans.

“N-Not anytime soon—mmh… Why? What’s up?”

Scaramouche lifts his head from your neck. A strange smile turns the corners of his lips up. “It’s not a question. I wasn’t giving you a choice.”

You blink back at him, lust-drunk and dazed. The horror edges in, slow and steady like invasive rot. It isn’t until he’s pinning your legs up by your ears to force you into another position that the implication finally catches up to you. You claw at his back with weak strokes, babbling futile protests against his mouth. In response, his cock throbs inside of you, pressed so deep in this position you fear the repercussions. He kisses you with much the same force, insistent on driving you into the mattress—on pinning you here until you finally submit. Until the last of your resolve withers away, stamped out and replaced with something agreeable.

“Even if you wanted to,” he says around a shaky laugh, seeming positively deranged, “you couldn’t.”

You think you should be worried, but you’re so stunned with this development that your brain can’t keep up. Embarrassingly, you cum with a strangled sort of cry, your pussy clenching tight. He hisses through his teeth, fucks you through the high of your orgasm, and then falls with you, his own climax fast like a flash.

You’re panting in the aftermath. What just happened?

Scaramouche keeps you plugged with his cock for as long as he possibly can before he’s sliding out, flaccid and spent. For now, you suspect, for there will certainly be more later if your wits aren’t about you by then.

“Pill,” you mumble, voice hoarse from crying. You shake him, hoping he’ll climb off of you and get to it. “Scaraaa…”

Oddly, for someone who never shows any vulnerability, he clings. “We’ve got time. I’ll get it. Don’t worry.”

You don’t believe him. Not when his hand strays to your stomach. His palm brushes over the area once. He sighs, wholly satisfied.

“We’ve got time…”

Nine months of it, in fact. But that goes unspoken. If not today, there’s always tomorrow. You know he won’t rest until then. Neither will you. Your heart is too big, too soft, for that lonely stray cat, and part of you wonders if he knows that.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere scaramouche x reader #n/sfw #tw: dubcon #tw: forced pregnancy #tw: babytrapping #lunar love hotel 2023

510 notes · View notes

seoliee · 3 months

Text

Married with the LaD Men

Yeah I can't think of a title for this one.

These are just my headcanons on what they would be like as a partner for life. Enjoy!

Oh and no Caleb in this one. Sorry :<

Have you ever wondered what it's like being married to them?

Word Count: 1.5k words

— XAVIER : Adorably Clumsy

• Xavier just got back from a 3 day mission when he was stopped by Captain Jenna herself. At first he thought that perhaps she's about to give him another mission and was ready to decline it, but the thought was quickly demolished when she informed him that you had gotten sick and ordered to stay at home since a day ago.

• Xavier who accidentally slams the bedroom door open and woken you up from your peaceful slumber. You wanted to smack him, but was unable to do so as your body was still far too weak.

• Xavier who gazed down at you with worry, placing a kiss on your forehead and head out of the room.

• Xavier came back holding a tray in his hands. "I made you something." His words were more than enough to send a chill down your spine and force you awake once again.

• Xavier who helped you sit up and sets down a steaming bowl of porridge with chopped chives on top. You looked down on the seemingly normal looking food then went up to look at his innocent and angelic face that waits for you to take a bite. It almost felt like a criminal offense to decline his goodwill.

• Xavier who's face turns into worry as your face almost went stone like after taking one spoonful of the porridge he made. "It's not good... isn't it?" He asks, almost deflated. You on the other hand, shook your head for a 'no' as you felt guilty seeing that he went through the effort of cooking despite not even being out of his hunter uniform yet. So you tried your best to swallow it down despite the salty taste. You were about to take another bite when he took the spoon and bowl away from you. "You don't have to force yourself, Love. You might get even more sick."

• Xavier sets down a plate with four no crusts sandwiches, replacing the salty concoction he made. "I made custard cream sandwiches. Hope you like them more." He sees the twinkle in your eyes upon seeing the sandwiches and watched with great adoration as you gobbled up one piece in no time. It's great to know you have an appetite.

• Xavier who's face becomes mildly pale when you asked about the state of the kitchen. "I'll.. clean it afterwards..." That was all the answer you needed to know. Confirming your hunches that the kitchen is in ruins.

— ZAYNE : Signs

• Zayne although, not an expert in the field, have seen certain signs that peaked his attention. Recently, you've been asking him to buy certain types of sour and sweet treats. You, having a sweet tooth is not new to him, but having a particular taste for sour treats is one.

• Zayne who watches you combine a kiwi fruit with a slab of peanut butter on top and ate it with a delightful expression. He continues to watch as you repeat the process and practically devour half of the kiwi pack and empty the peanut butter jar in half. You finally noticed him, and offer one which he merely shook his head for a no and continues to read his book, still giving you side glances from time to time.

• Zayne who noticed you were beginning to become quite sluggish. Often, refusing to get up from the bed to declining his proposals of going out on a date during his time off. It was all too strange to him as you would usually be always on your feet and is the one who always bugs him to go out despite his busy work schedule.

• Zayne while even at work, his thoughts were filled of you and your strange behavior. A nurse came in to deliver the documents of his patients for the day, and did some small talk with him while gathering the results he have finished to make. He doesn't usually entertain such things in a workspace, but the topic of a fellow nurse's pregnancy caught his attention.

• Zayne asked the nurse about certain signs, but not disclosing it was from you. A flicker of emotion appears in his eyes before returning back to normal as the nurse confirmed that it might be a sign of pregnancy, but added that it would be wiser to take a test.

• Zayne admits to himself that he has hunches that your strange behaviors might be exhibiting signs that you are indeed pregnant. Considering that after being married, the two of you were rather active. He merely needed one more confirmation from a second party about the signs before proceeding to visit a pharmacy on the way back from his lunch break to buy a test.

• Zayne who had come home after a busy day of work. He sees you slouched down on the couch, eating a tub of ice cream. You looked up at him, holding a spoon on your mouth and greeted him with a smile. "Welcome home, honey~"

• Zayne sets down the paper bag with a thud on top of the coffee table and sat down beside her. He places a hand on the exposed part of your thigh and looks at you with the most serious face he ever shown you. You were confused and already forgotten about the ice cream, asking him if something is wrong. After quite some time, he finally told you. "I think you're pregnant." He hands you a pregnancy test box, you took it despite being dumbfounded.

• Zayne who's eyes were slightly wide open upon hearing your next words. "But.. I just got my period..." His lips were parted, now the one who looks so puzzled. He brings up your strange behaviors in which you replied with a laugh. "Oh I see. Sometimes I become like that whenever my period is near."

• Zayne who somewhat felt down and didn't noticed that you reached out to the paper bag and took out its contents. Your eyes softened upon seeing books about pregnancy, taking care of a baby, and parenting. The books were then snatched from you, switching your attention back to him who tried his best to hide his flustered expression with a cough. You thought that he must've felt excited about you being pregnant and had bought these despite not being confirmed yet. You felt bad, and leaned closer to him. "You know that we have all the time in world to try again, right?" Your voice and words was enough to soothe his initial disappointment as a smile finally curls up to his lips. "You're right."

"You know! I heard that doing it while on period has the highest ch—"

"Don't even continue it."

— RAFAYEL : Serene Canvas

• Rafayel who proposed the idea of them spending their valuable time off in doing some painting. Saying that being productive is better than lounging around. You, on the other hand, had no qualms about painting, but not exactly confident with it either.

• Rafayel who already painted a beautiful scenery as the background of his painting while you, have just finished painting the sky and a little bit of nick nacks on the bottom.

• Rafayel who peaked at your painting, and proceeds to say. "Amazing, Amore. Those clouds look like soft marshmallows and the trees are.. um.. uniquely abstract." You, looked at him with the most blank face you could muster and say. "Those trees are supposed to be people..."

• Rafayel who's face goes blank, looking back at the painting, analyzing the 'trees' once more. He could've sworn those looked more like what he described. He looked back at you, taking in the way your hair cascaded your face and looking upset despite trying hard not to.

• Rafayel comes up with a solution and says. "Anyways.. you're doing an amazing job, Amore. Who knew you'd have an artistic side." You, only scowled at him, and out of spite points the red dipped bristles of the paintbrush on his cheek and made a one clean stroke.

• Rafayel blinks in bewilderment, feeling the wet bristles brush against his skin and the red paint trickling down. Soon, you snorted, soon a wholehearted laugh came. The initial annoyance you felt dissipated.

• Rafayel who cannot help, but share a warm chuckle as he gazes down at you with the most softened eyes ever. Though, the little bit of mischief in them is visible. He dipped his paintbrush, and then proceeds to make a clean stroke of blue on your cheek, making you yelp in surprise at the cold sensation. His thin lips curled into a mischievous smirk. "Now, we're even."

• Rafayel who laughs wholeheartedly as both of you take playful jabs of paintbrush towards each other, and practically covering yourselves in paint. While you were trying to reach your paintbrush at him, the stool you've been sitting on went out balance and knock yourself off of it, dragging him with you down on the floor.

• Rafayel who still laughs despite the mess that both of you made on his study. His tall and broad frame hovers above you, gazing at you with love filled eyes. He intertwines his hand with yours, a teasing smirk curls up to his lips. "I think that's enough painting for now..."

"I'd like to explore the canvas underneath me more."

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace

711 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 4 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 [Teaser]

In which Jungkook really only went to earth to take home his new pet- but ends up leaving with a lot more than that.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Ocean theme, very wet planet, bioluminescence, sci-fi, Romance, strangers to lovers, God this ended up WAY softer and fluffier than I thought it would, Fluff, Kook is tall and buff but sometimes fails to realize that, a pet shark named Custard, another pet shark named Noodle, more TBA

Length: unknown yet, teaser is ~700 words

-> Masterlist

A/N: a silly idea I had because of fellow fish enthusiast @euphoricfilter

━━━━━━━━━━.~°🩵°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

“I’m pretty sure they’ll get along great.” Jungkook smiles. “Of course I’ll have to slowly familiarize the two- but Custard is very sweet, she’s just sometimes a bit moody.” He explains to you, who watches the other shark in the tank with him as he’s being fed by a caretaker.

“I heard they’re a.. popular pet.” You mention, and Jungkook nods.

“Yeah! I initially wanted a lemon shark first, but then things changed, and I got custard first.” He shrugs. “Which I think might have been a good thing, considering that lemon sharks are said to get jealous easily if not properly socialized. It’s easier to introduce them to an already established shark than have them first and get them comfortable with a new one.” The alien explains, watching his new pet swim around.

“You know a lot about them.” You say, and he chuckles a bit bashful.

“I uh- not really. I just.. wanted to know what I’d be getting myself into. A pet is a big responsibility. “ He explains to you, and you nod.

“I swam with lemon sharks before.” You mention. “they’re pretty cute, but.. a bit chaotic sometimes.” You giggle, remembering the time, and how overwhelmed you’d gotten as the sharks had began playfully fighting over attention of you and the other divers.

“So you’re a good swimmer?” He asks curiously, standing next to you in front of the gigantic tank that holds his chosen pet inside, the young shark swimming around for now, while he’s being prepared for the newer conditions soon to become his permanent home.

“..decent.” You laugh a bit uneasy. “I.. nowhere near, you know, your skills.” You say, and he laughs.

“Oh that’s- like comparing clams with mussels. It’s not the same- just looks similar. Like us!” He shrugs off. “I think you’re under-selling yourself. And even if you’re not a good swimmer- I could teach you!” He offers, making you look up from where you stand near the glass.

"I'm just.. still a bit scared." You admit. "You know, after all that happened. I don't think I could just.. forget that and just.." you sigh, and he gently bumps your shoulder.

"Hey.. no one's asking you to." He tells you. "It just might be a good chance to face your fears? And I'll always be right at your side. I have an underwater license after all!" He proudly reminds you, and you can't help but laugh.

“You really seem like you really want me to visit your planet.” You tease, though he clearly doesn’t take it as a joke- nodding with almost cute enthusiasm.

“Of course! You said you always wanted to- so why not do it while visiting a friend?” He proposes. “it’s safer than just going alone. You could get lost, or even hurt.” He tells you. “and you’d miss out on.. you know, the spots only locals know.” Jungkook says, before he looks as Noodle swims closer again to inspect something floating around.

“I mean, you’re right..” you mumble, watching the shark move around. “…but I don’t know. I don’t think I could.. really.. I’m still just human.” You tell him, and he nods.

“I’m aware.” He responds. “and my planet has already made many adjustments to accommodate humans in many areas. You seem to forget that my kind has been.. mixing with humans for a long time by now. “ He chuckles. “means we had to evolve too, and change some of our architecture and stuff to adapt to those changes.” He says.

He’s right. And, in a way, he’s a living example of that change- with his honestly surprisingly human appearance, minus the height difference, and the hardly visible stripes of his skin.

“so, if you’d like, I’d happily house you for your vacation on my planet.” He grins. “and we can see just how well you swim.” He teases, leaning down a bit towards you before you both leave the large hall containing the tank for his new pet-

And you feel like this won’t just be a vacation at all, considering that he’s made it clear that he’s found interest in you past just simply being friends.

And in a way, you don’t mind that one bit.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines

492 notes · View notes

allyeardepression · 19 days

Text

@jegulus-microfic | april 12 Amortentia | words: 683

DARLING, GUESS WHO’S BACK FROM JAIL (not jail but a hospital, same thing really). I missed writing and maybe some of you missed me so here’s a cute one. enjoy;3

tw: alleged poisoning, swearing

"Have you seen that green shirt Regulus wore to the party last week? He looked so beautiful in it,” James mused, laying down on the floor next to Remus’ bed. “And his hair, oh Merlin, his hair...”

“What the fuck, Prongs?” Sirius snapped at him, sitting straight on Mooney’s bed. Oh, right, he forgot his best friend was in the room.

James looked at Remus, a bit terrified, hoping the tall boy would come up with something to save his ass. With the smirk Remus gave him, James knew he was doomed.

“Oh boy, are you okay, James?” The taller boy asked with feigned concern. “Pads, I think someone poisoned him.”

At the comment, Sirius’ face turned from pissed to concerned.

“What? With what?” he started, running to James to check on him.

Remus hummed, looking at the two of them with a mean grin.

“Some Slytherin must’ve added amortentia to his tea in revenge for the last prank,” he said, acting as if he were terrified. “We should take him to Slughorn; he probably has an antidotum.” With that, Sirius picked James up and led him out of their dormitory.

Padfoot looked determined to help him as they walked to the dungeons, while Remus kept sending him amused glances. In response, James just farrowed his eyebrows, mouthing you’re dead to his friend.

When they finally reached the potions professor’s room, Sirius started banging on them like a madman. Not even ten seconds into it, the door opened.

“What are you doing here?” Regulus asked, looking at all three of them. James could see his eyes softening as they reached his own, and he smiled gently at Regulus, the younger boy's cheeks turning slightly pink.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, reminding James of his presence.

“Well, I’m brewing a potion,” Regulus started. “But you still didn’t answer my question.”

Sirius frowned at his brother, and he pointed at James. “Can you see him? He’s looking at you like you’re the world’s eighth wonder; somebody poisoned him with amortentia!”

Regulus and James locked eyes again, the younger boy smirking this time.

"Oh, really?” he started, still looking at James. “What gave you the idea?”

“Well,” Sirius began, “he started rumbling about how pretty you looked last week, and how he likes your hair, and other shit like that!” That was just Sirius being dramatic, but Regulus seemed more pleased with every word. “Is Slughorn here? We need to fix him right now!”

Regulus shook his head, turning to face his brother. “He went to Madam Pomfrey; he should be back soon," he said with a pause. “But maybe you should go back to the dorm; it's almost curfew. I’ll take care of that moron.”

James looked at Remus with pleading eyes, hoping this time his friend would actually help him. Thankfully, Moony seemed like he had enough of torturing him for one evening.

He grabbed Sirius’ shoulder, turning him so they stood face-to-face. “He’ll be fine, honey,” Remus said gently, leaning closer to Sirius’ ear. As the black-haired boy’s eyes widened, James assumed the two of them would be taking advantage of the free dormitory. Good for them, James thought. Just don’t destroy the room. Again.

“If he starts being insufferable, give him a sleeping drought or bind him; I don’t care. Just... be safe,” Sirius said to his brother, getting a dismissive yeah, yeah in response.

As the two Gryffindors left them, Regulus pushed James into the room, slamming the door behind them.

“So, amortentia, huh?” Regulus asked with a teasing smile, putting his hands on James’ chest. The older boy grabbed him by the waist, pulling him closer.

“Yeah,” he began, rubbing his hands up and down Regulus’ sides. “I think Barty wanted to get back at me for turning custard creams into Canary Creams.”

“Perhaps yes,” Regulus said, nuzzling at James’ jaw. “And you think I’m pretty? Evan must’ve helped him with the potion if you talked so nicely about me,” James chuckled as the younger boy grabbed him by the neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

#jegulus #dead gay wizards #starchaser #james potter #james x regulus #regulus black #jegulus microfic #marauders #the marauders #hogwarts au #amortentia #sirius black #remus lupin #1k words or less #by: allyeardepression

309 notes · View notes

dilatorywriting · 1 year

Text

Monster Mayhem: Don't Fear the Reaper

Gender Neutral Reader x Rook Hunt Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Running a little pâtisserie is quaint, and homey, and should not in any way get you involved with anything shady. Let alone the strange bounty hunter who prowls through your little town like the Grim Reaper himself. And yet here you are, teaching this literal murderer how to use a napkin.

A/N: Based on this wonderful brain rot from a very lovely anon! Also apologies in advance to anyone who actually knows French, because I do not lol. So Rook's babbling is all Google baby

[PART 1] [PART 2]

There was a murderer at your window, and you weren’t really sure what to do about it.

Well, maybe not actually a murderer. Bounty Hunters tended not to wind up in prison after dragging back the desecrated remains of their latest quarry. But still. You recognized the black plume tucked slickly into his wide-brimmed, purple, hat, and the pale, bright, bob of his hair was nearly luminescent in the dark. He was certainly the least covert assassin you’d ever seen, and you had seen him. It was hard not to. Traipsing through town to deposit every wayward criminal, every long-lost villain, at the doorstep of who’d ever called for him.

‘Rook Hunt’ you thought his name was, or at least, that’s what the old woman in the market would call him before crossing herself and spitting in the dirt. It was all a bit on the nose in your humble opinion, especially with that strange, twisting, ebony, bow of his strung across his back. ‘Hunter’ indeed. But it’s not like you’ve ever done anything to warrant winding up in one of those dripping burlap sacks of his, so you’d let the dude have his drama. It was probably good advertisement. And it’s not like the guy had ever bothered you before.

You thought that reassurance on repeat as you watched said not-quite-a-murderer stare through the front window of your little bakery, as if your rising dough had been kneaded with the secrets of the known universe. But he didn’t do anything—just kept watching with rapt attention as you brushed egg wash over your pie crusts and swapped trays in and out of the ancient, brick, oven.

In all honesty, he was far from the strangest thing that’d been plastered to your window in the early AM, and it wasn’t like he was licking the glass or anything. So you let it slide.

One of the custard tarts you pulled from the oven had cracked across the top. Nothing out of the ordinary—there was always at least one dud in a batch. Normally you saved the rejects for Ace or Deuce to gobble up (depending on whoever managed to pop by first), but this one you set aside onto a little tea plate. You topped it with a dollop of freshly whipped cream and a spoonful of the blackberries you’d left sitting in sugar overnight. Then you plucked up a spare napkin and made your way out from behind the counter.

When you opened the door to your little bakery, the tingling overhead bell warmed your unwanted guest’s expression in a way that it most certainly should not have—lighting the whole of him with this sort of wide-eyed, innocent, joy that belonged nowhere on the face of someone you’d watched cart literal corpses into town.

“Mon pâtissier!” he chirped. “What a fine morning it is, no?”

The sun hadn’t even started to rise yet. You could still hear the drone of crickets and toads in the distance, basking in the humid darkness of the night.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “We’re not open for,” you glanced at the moon, still full in the sky, “at least four more hours. If that’s what you’re waiting for.”

“Oh—non, non, non,” Rook waved you off. “I just wanted to watch!”

“…Watch?” you repeated.

“It’s quite the fascinating process!” he absolutely beamed. “Taking such basic, individual, components and turning them into something so spectacularly sweet and heartwarming! Quelle inventivité! I’ve heard nothing but excellent things about your marvelous menu!”

‘From who?’ you wanted to ask, because you’d never heard of anyone being able to hold a conversation with this man for more than a stuttered sentence at a time, let alone for long enough to go about giving dessert recommendations. But there was a streak of red blood across his cheek that still looked fresh enough to not even have gone tacky yet, and now that you looked closer, his dark gloves were perhaps a shade too dark to not have been, well…

You sighed and reminded yourself once again that is was absolutely not your business, before handing him the napkin.

He stared at it with that same sort of rapt fascination that had you wondering if this man had ever actually interacted with proper civilization in his entire life.

“Wipe your hands,” you demanded with a huff, and he dutifully scrubbed at his stained fingers. Once he was clean enough that he was at least no longer dripping unmentionables all along your windowsill, you held out the little saucer for him to take.

“Pour moi?” he muttered, looking a bit starstruck.

“If you’re going to say all those nice things about my food, you may as well get to try what you’re complimenting,” you shrugged, and that same eager enthusiasm lit his face all over again. “And it will be a nice treat to take home with you,” you emphasized, with all the intonation of a cheery ‘please get the fuck out before you scare away all my customers for the day.’

But instead of turning and meandering off back to whatever hole he’d crawled out of, he just kept staring at the little treat like he had no idea what to do with it.

“It’s a tart,” you said blandly, fighting the furrow in your brow.

Rook repeated ‘a tart’ under his breath like it was some kind of ancient, forbidden, enchantment, and not like it was literally scrawled into the little menu sign at your door at least a dozen times over.

The Bounty Hunter peered at the little custard treat like you’d handed him a treasure beyond measure. After a moment of carefully poking at the browned crust like it wasn’t literally meant to break apart beneath one’s fingers, he looked back over at you with eyes that were far, far, too green. He lifted the tart up like he meant to give it back to you.

“I ought to offer you la première bouchée,” he smiled.

You blinked, taken aback, and pushed the plate back into his hands. “That’s not how free samples work.”

Rook tossed his head back with a bout of boisterous laughter that should have been loud enough to wake everyone on the block. You glanced around nervously, hoping no one was about to come running out to make noise complaints.

“Ahh~ But how else will I know the best manner in which to savor such a treat?”

“You eat it,” you gaped. And then, slowly, because you weren’t even sure you were dealing with a functional human being anymore. “With your teeth.”

The Bounty Hunter, with his blood smeared cheeks and even bloodier clothes, put all those shiny, pearly whites of his on display in a merry grin. He swept forward in a grand bow that had the feather in his hat bobbing about in a way that reminded you far too much of a wagging tail.

“Of course!” he chirped. “In my home you said, yes?”

Please, you wanted to groan. Go there. Leave.

“Ideally,” you said instead, and Rook ducked his head until that purple hat of his had cast the whole of his face into shadow. He reached up to tap two fingers against the wide brim and tip it forward.

“Merci, merci!” he trilled. “Then I will endeavor to consume this marvelous spécialité humaine in the proper fashion. A very good morning to you then, cher pâtissier!”

He straightened with a merry little hum and began making his way back down the cobblestone road. In the soft light of the setting moon, his footsteps left odd prints in their wake—inky, black, dripping things that had faded entirely by the time you were able to focus enough to get a proper look at them, leaving you wondering if they’d really just been nothing but a trick of the night.

Well, that was fucking weird,you frowned, shaking the fuzz from your head. You slipped back inside and the door jingled pleasantly as it slammed behind you. But then again, when wasn’t customer service a trip? These people were all ridiculous.

Bright and early the next morning, you were waiting for Deuce to arrive with his delivery of a fresh crate of eggs. It was ungodly early, as it always was. But at least there was no hunter at your window this time around—

There was a bang and a screech, and then an unfortunate sort of cracking-squishing-yucky noise that sounded an awful lot like a couple dozen eggs meeting their doom. You frowned and tucked your rag into the ribbons of your apron and ducked out from the backroom with a sigh. Deuce was at the door. Or, well, Deuce was on the ground in front of your door. With the shattered, yolk, remnants of your shipment scattered all around him.

“I’m not paying for that,” you huffed irritably, and your friend looked up with a squawk.

He looked like he was trying to say something, but his face just kept flashing back and forth between deathly pale and a miserable sort of mottled red.

“I—! You—! And he—!”

“Use your words, Spade,” you sighed.

“I do believe he’s trying his best, cher pâtissier!”

You froze, and turned in near-slow-motion to see a beaming Bounty Hunter crouched at one of the little painted benches lined up neatly along your storefront. Not on one, like a normal person. But beside one. On the ground. There was no blood on him today. None that was very obviously dripping down his face at the very least. He didn’t seem like he’d come bearing any ill will, but your Chicken Dealer was still splayed out on the ground—nearly convulsing—so that wasn’t a great sign either.

“What’s going on out here?” you demanded, hands at your hips.

“I do believe Monsieur Spade had himself a bit of a fright,” Rook beamed, and then turned towards your very gaunt looking friend with a soft tut-tut noise that for all its amiability didn’t sound particularly sympathetic. “You really ought to work on your balance, hmm? Alas, all these petits oeufs have gone to waste.”

“What?!” Deuce immediately bristled, on the defensive. “If you hadn’t scared me, then none of these chicks would have had to die so tragically in the first place!”

“For the last time,” you sighed, grinding the heels of your palms into your eyes. “Unfertilized farm eggs are not baby chicks.”

“But Ace said—”

“Enough! With what Ace said!” you snapped, exhaustion and a sore lack of tea, or coffee, or anything wearing away at your already fragile sanity. “Ace would sell you snake oil and cry to your face about you underpaying for it!”

“Oh?” Rook chirped, unfolding himself from his crouch to stand at his full height. He wasn’t particularly gangly or long limbed—not even especially tall, all things considered. But there was something about him that made him loom. From the sharp cut of his purple robes to the harsh, starched, white of his tight collar. He was neat, composed. And yet… very much not civilized. “Is this not a person who wishes you well, cher pâtissier?”

You frowned, something odd tugging at a sixth sense of yours. Just… a little something on the periphery of your nerves, singing that the words you chose now would mean a lot more than they ought to.

You hummed, low in your throat, and considered.

“Ace is himself,” you said finally, “but he’s a friend nonetheless.”

“Magnifique!” Rook beamed and clapped his hands together with a near lovelorn sigh, all at once perfectly pleasant and soft. “It is such a very good thing to have friends!”

“…Is that what you are?” Deuce asked, enough of that enraged spunk fading away to leave him properly cautious once more. His blue eyes flickered pointedly from the bounty hunter, to you, and back. “A friend?”

You sighed and turned to retreat back into your little shop without a word. Deuce scrambled to his feet to follow you in hesitantly, still dripping with the remnants of too many eggs. You shot him a look, and he immediately darted over to the mop and bucket you kept propped up in the corner. Rook stood in the doorway, nearly just a blur of bruised shadow against the backdrop of the pre-dawn darkness, and you watched him out of the corner of your eye. After a long moment of terse silence, he stepped beyond the threshold with a little hum. He wiped his feet pointedly on your little welcome mat, and then turned to stand at the counter. He fished around in the pockets of his cloak for a moment before withdrawing a strange little flower. He placed it on the countertop with a bright smile that crinkled the corners of his green eyes.

You stepped forward to observe it curiously, and your brows shot up in surprise.

It wasn’t a flower at all. What had looked like the folded arch of soft petals was actually a dainty pair of wings. It was a tiny butterfly—caught in a perpetual sort of stillness. It was bright, and colorful, and so carefully preserved that even when you trailed a flour-coated finger along the thin membranes of its wings, it stayed clean and crisp.

“What’s this for?” you asked.

“Payment, of course!” Rook smiled. “For the lovely treat you gifted me the other day.”

You sighed, not at all in the mood to discuss the lack of viable conversion rates between copper coins and bugs.

So instead you settled on huffing, “Free samples are free. It’s in the name.”

Rook just kept on smiling, unbothered. Deuce knocked into some set of drawers or other—or maybe the coatrack. Who knew—and you shot him an irritable little scowl. The guy was like a bull in a china shop on the best of days, let alone when he was trying to multitask, and be sneaky about it all the while. The bounty hunter’s grin twitched a bit at the corners, like the idea of your blue-haired friend trying to stealthily keep a watch on him was just the funniest thing.

You glanced back down at the little, frozen, butterfly. It really was very pretty, even if it was a little odd.

When you ducked back behind the counter, you unearthed a blueberry muffin from one of many stacks of trays there. It was little lopsided, and maybe there were a few too many bits of fruit in it. Surely no one would have wanted it anyways.

You plopped it on the countertop, and both Rook’s eyebrows shot all the way up his forehead. When he made no move to take it, you pushed the confection closer. The wrapper slid along the counter in a heavy, sticky, way. You’d have to remember to wipe it down again after. The Hunter reached out carefully to pluck the treat up between his fingers. He squished it delicately, in a similarly cautious way as to how you’d stroked the little butterfly.

“Is this also for eating at home?” he asked, observing the offering with a wide, wonderous, expression.

“Yes,” you said, just in time for Deuce to nearly annihilate your trash bin. “Please enjoy it.” Please get out. You’re distracting my maid.

Rook Hunt dipped into another of those ridiculous, bobbing, bows and pinched the brim of his hat between his fingers.

“Your generosity continues to warm my heart, mon cher,” he crooned, eyes practically sparkling from behind the sharp cut of his heavily lined lashes. “I will endeavor to return your kindness tenfold! A hundred!”

You waved off his sentimentality with a flick of your wrist and a not so delicate ‘shoo shoo.’

The hunter left your little bakery with a spring in his step and an outpouring of flowery promises that had your head spinning. He melted seamlessly into the shadows of the early morning, and between one blink and the next, he’d vanished entirely.

You would have thoroughly enjoyed the well-earned silence that followed, if not for the veritable storm cloud brewing over your friend’s head.

“Do I get one…?” Deuce asked finally, staring outright at the remaining muffins and sounding small and hopeful. And like that clearly wasn’t what he’d meant to say at all.

“Maybe if I had the eggs to make more,” you lamented, brushing your hands against your apron.

Deuce made a wounded noise which you had exactly zero sympathy for. You got to work wiping down the counters and sorting through the bits and bobs you’d need to start your day.

“…You know he’s not right, don’t you? That bounty hunter?” Deuce finally said, setting the mop aside. “You must have heard at least some of the rumors floating around town. I don’t think anyone even knows if the guy’s human.”

You shrugged.

“Anyone who has to wake up when I wake up each morning has long given up on humanity anyways,” you droned, only sort of half kidding.

Deuce frowned, clearly unhappy with your non-answer.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” he asked, stern in his fretting. There was still a big ol’ chunk of eggshell tangled up in his bangs.

“When I am ever not?” you smiled, and carefully pocketed the little, blue, butterfly.

When you popped by the market stalls after closing shop for the day, the street was abuzz with all the usual gossipy nonsense that you’d long since learned to let settle at the back of your brain like white noise. You were busy debating if you had enough arms to manage balancing yet another bag of strawberries (they were at their height of freshness these past weeks it seemed, and you were like a little fruit goblin hoarding them while you could), when a particularly shrill bit of chatter worked its way past the pleasant curtain you’d let fall across your thoughts.

“There was another one,” the butcher’s wife whispered in a way that was most certainly not a whisper.

“I heard,” chittered the man who really should have been trying to sell you more strawberries if he’d any kind of business sense whatsoever. He turned on you with a look that meant you were clearly about to be dragged into a conversation you were entirely unprepared for. “It was one of yours, apparently!”

“One of my what?” you blinked back into focus.

“One of your regulars,” he said, like a secret.

“That strange Bounty Hunter came through again,” his coconspirator hissed, with a hand lifted as if she meant to cover her mouth. “He dropped off the body the other day—delivered the heart straight to the Felmier’s porch!”

“Who was it?” you asked, just like you knew they wanted you to.

“Sir Hamlen,” the butcher’s wife said. “You know, that awful toad who could eat you out of house and home.”

That sounded like all of your costumers, and more than half of your closest friends, but you gave yourself a moment to sort through your scattered thoughts and try and connect whatever dots they’d been throwing at you.

“Sir Hamlen…?” you said after a moment, slowly putting a face to the name. “With the terrible goatee?”

They both nodded enthusiastically.

“Rotten pig,” the butcher’s wife piped back in. “Served him right, if you ask me. Everyone was expecting the Crown would put him to death anyways.”

You shrugged again. You hardly knew the man, but he’d always paid you well enough that you didn’t really have any ill will towards him. You went back to fussing over balancing bags of berries, but then… Well, there was something a bit funny, actually. He’d been a loud sort of person, with no filter to speak of. One afternoon, he’d stumbled into your little shop absolutely pissed on cheap drink and all but burping bubbles.

‘You know,’ he’d lulled, dropping a full coin pouch on your countertop. Which you’d taken in its entirely with zero hesitation. ‘I’d die happy if my last meal was these fucking tarts of yours.’

‘Is that so,’ you’d drawled, in the bland way you answered literally every customer who spouted off whatever nonsense was kicking around in their heads.

‘Aye,’ he’d sighed, practically stooped over. ‘Gonna have to pry ‘em outta my cold, dead, hands.’

“Huh,” you muttered, thoughts wandering back to a pair of bloody gloves and the little treat you’d pressed into them. Huh.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

@marvelous-maxi, @ilikefanfics4, @jackalope08, @crocwork-clockodile, @cosmicobubisi, @buttplugs-stuff, @pomefleur, @decemebercircus, @ailynyan, @genzombie, @meliade-ot, @sunlightocean, @theofficialantitherapist, @hermiona18, @sailorenthusiast, @fantasy-dating-sim-trash, @thefiasco-onyourblock, @insideous-beez, @its-clockwork-princess

@novaloptr, @imlost-sendhelp, @matcha-berry @preciosayorgullosa @whoretaglia, @kookygirlwholikescookiesandcoke, @nanauedorian, @trixeraptops, @voxnipop, @starkling25, @thedum1, @horcrux-alchemist, @sleepykitty21, @apathicace, @instantregret101, @nekanecorvus, @looney-mori, @re-ducing, @my2phetaliaheadcanons, @naughtybodypillow, @rendy-a, @carmen-404, @candy284, @thealiennamedterry, @their-name-is-fake, @huetolog, @glacticrose, @seraphinariddle, @rabioa, @sn00zl4x, @dreasimping, @jeidoreech, @ai-dev, @galaxyshine24-7, @fatally-incorrect, @juulranch, @camrastuff, @nocteetdie, @stargaryengirl,

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Rook Hunt x Reader #Rook x Reader #Rook Hunt x Yuu #Reaper!Rook #Monster Mayhem #Fantasy AU #Rook Hunt #Deuce Spade #My Writing #Monster Mayhem Rook Part 1

1K notes · View notes

violentdelightsandviolentends · 7 months

Note

hi, I absolutely loved your headcanons for Bucky (agree 100% with everything you said), but I'm a sucker for Frank Castle... so can I ask for rum with him? 💙

Frank Castle Headcanons.

warnings - sexual content.

so glad you agreed with my bucky headcanons, my love!! here are some for our Frank. <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

- I think if you give him time, Frank would thrive on domesticity. Making you breakfast, doing the laundry, grocery shopping. He'd settle into an easy life so easy if he let himself.

- He wouldn't want any more kids. Not even sure if he'd want to remarry. Being a father and being a husband are roles that are associated with so much pain, for him. He'd be more than happy being your partner, though. You don't need a marriage certificate to prove your devotion to each other.

- Big sweet tooth. Loves candy, cookies, popsicles, pastries. Loves anything with chocolate on/in it. Loves ice cream, loves frozen yogurt, loves frozen custard. He's a secret sugar fiend.

- He's always the big spoon. Loves to wrap himself around you, tangle your legs together, snake his arms around your middle as tight as he can.

- The man is a walking radiator. A breathing space heater. He runs so hot. Always puts your feet under his thighs on the couch to warm them up. Smothers your hands in his when you're in public, especially if it's cold.

and now for the sexy stuff...

- There's one word for this man in bed. Shameless.

- His dirty talk is enough to get you off. He doesn't even have to touch you. He's got this low, rough, buttery tone, and he's filthy. Says the most unhinged shit. Makes you blush and stutter and hide your face in your hands.

- Loooves missionary. He thrives on watching your expressions, the way your eyes flutter shut, the look on your face when your mouth drops open.

- I think Frank likes to be a little possessive, but not in a toxic way. More in a you're-mine-and-i'm-yours kind of way. Lots of atta girl and my good fucking girl and that's it, there's my baby.

- Big fan of when you get a little rough with him. Likes the edge, thrives on the pain. Slap him, scratch him, bite him, choke him. He's into it.

- Can be soft with you, if you want it that way. Slow, smooth thrusts, covers you in kisses, strokes your hair back from your face. Plasters his body to yours, not an inch of space between you.

- Tells you he loves you every morning and every night. He knows you know. He just wants to make sure.

in conclusion... he might be a little rough around the edges, but that man would devote his life to you. no questions. <3

as always, feel free to agree/disagree/expand on these!! let me know if you have any thoughts about any of these headcanons, or if you have any of your own. <3

#frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle #frank castle x reader smut #frank castle fluff #frank castle x reader fluff #the punisher fluff #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #the punisher smut #the punisher #murphy's 3k celebration #jon bernthal #frank castle headcanons #frank castle headcanon

799 notes · View notes

jasmines-library · 3 months

Note

Hi !

This might be specific but would you consider writing like Batfam x Polish reader? In a platonic ship way?

Basically tomorrow (Feb 8th) is Fat Thursday, its a huge polish holiday where you eat traditional polish donuts they're usually stuffed with either rose jam, caramel or custard!

Could you write their reactions to reader coning over, and giving them some traditional polish donuts? And maybe what their favourite filling is pls?

I don't mind if it's late, I realise it's short notice :)

Hello! Thanks so much for trusting me to write this for you! I'm sorry it's a little short but i really wanted to get this out for you in time. I had to do a little research but it has been so interesting to learn about! I hope I have done you and your culture justice :)

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

"What are you doing?" Damian strolled into the kitchen, head held high as he peered around the room. He had smelt whatever you had been cooking from the other side of the house and it had made is mouth water so he decided to check it out.

There were various kitchen tools scattered around the room alongside trays of doughnuts set out in little rows. The room was warm and smelt like a fresh bakery.

"Baking pączki." You answered, setting aside another tray on the side.

Damian walked around the room with his arms behind his back as he eyed up the sweet treats wanting to just reach out and snatch one. You caught his glance and smiled, turning to hand him one off of the plates.

"Here, try one. It's good luck."

He reached out eagerly to take a bite of the pastry. The flavours melted over his tongue and he took another bite straight away.

"Mmm. This is so good. What is in this."

You beamed. "That's rose jam. But I have other flavours too."

Moving around the table as you began to clean away the last of the mess. "Rose jam is traditional, but I have also made caramel, custard and chocolate."

Damian's eyes widened a fraction at the mention of the delicacies. He licked the powered from his top lip.

"Please," You gestured to them, "Try another. I made them to share."

He reached for another, selecting one you had filled with a chocolate ganache and after taking a bite, he sighed in content.

"You know," he said through a mouthful of food, "You should make these more often."

"What's going on?" Dick made his way into the kitchen.

"Oh Grayson! You have to try these." Damian exclaimed to his brother "They're amazing."

"They're different flavours." You told him, explaining to him which tray belonged to which. Damian was already sneaking for another. "Incase you wanted to try something different."

The eldest Wayne delved into a custard filled pastry. He had the same content look on his face as Damian did.

"Oh...these are good. Really good. What are they for?"

"Tlusty Czwartek. Or Fat Thursday. It's a Polish tradition. We share sweet treats that we give up during lent."

"Huh, that's cool. I never knew. Tell me more about it?" Dick asked keen to find out more about your tradition.

Balancing the tray on one had was a lot harder than you thought it would be as you made your way down the hall to knock on Jason's door. When he heard the knock, he answered contently and invited you in. He was sprawled out across his bed but moved to sit when you walked in.

"Hey Y/N. You okay?"

You nodded, offering him the plate of doughnuts. You has selected a couple of each for him to try. "I brought you something to try. "pączki- doughnuts."

"These look amazing, thank you."

"Anytime. I'm glad to share these with you."

Jason opted to for a caramel filled one, though also seemed very keen to try the rose jam as it was something he had never tried before. Like Damian, Jason also made you promise to make these again and was keen to help finish any leftovers off.

Tim practically melted into his seat the second the pastry filled his tongue. You had found him in the library indulging in some last minute homework. Like all of the others he was super keen to try them. First he tried the tradition flavour, intrigued as he too had never tried it before. A second followed quick after that, along with questions about how you made them.

Tim had a keen eye for cooking and he was interested to find that you had made them yourself. After explaining it to him, he was keen to help you next time the event rolled around. Well it was that and he wanted an excuse to be cooking in the kitchen. It was a rare occurrence for Alfred to allow one of the boys to be allowed to cook.

Speaking of which, he and Bruce would be in awe of your cooking. Alfred would ask you for a recipe and after claiming that he wouldn't have anymore, you would occasionally catch Bruce sneaking one.

It was safe to say that they all loved you giving them doughnuts and couldn't wait until the event rolled around again so they could engulf on them again.

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

@devotedlyshadowytheorist

215 notes · View notes

keerysfreckles · 3 months

Note

literally anything with cole walter x f!reader, there is hardly any mlwtwb content on here, I am sick and deprived 💔 maybe like him teaching her to ride custard? doesn’t have to be, whatever you feel flows best!

pairing: cole walter x reader (no specific pronouns mentioned)

warnings: established relationship, petnames used (babe, honey)

a/n: the cole effect got me 😣😣 requets are open!!! and DEFINITELY taking cole requests tehe

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

"hey cowboy!"

cole turns his head, watching as you walk over to the open stables. "thought you were gonna start without me," you laugh.

cole continues getting custard fully out of his stable, "what kind of boyfriend would i be if i started riding lessons without the rider?"

you can't help but laugh. cole walks towards you and places a kiss on your temple. "can you hold the reins for a sec?"

you nod, and say hello to custard. he whinnies once you pet his mane, then he leans into your touch.

"well custard's really getting used to you," cole speaks up, while placing the saddle and other riding equipment on custard's back.

"cole i've ridden him once," you fight back.

cole's quick to finish getting custard ready. he's been doing it almost all his life, you'd be surprised if it took longer.

"you ready babe?" cole asks, as he holds his hand out to help you onto the horse.

you nod again, and smile while cole helps you get settled. his hand never leaves yours until you're 100% comfortable.

"okay, think you can lead him into the ring?"

"yeah, i don't see why not."

you simply kick custard's side and he starts trotting slowly. you pull the reins in the direction of the fenced in area where alex is usually practicing for an upcoming rodeo.

"you're a natural," cole compliments.

you blush at his words, and start controlling custard to walk along the rim of the ring. cole watches your every move, along with custard's, making sure nothing goes wrong.

"walk him up the ramp," cole instructs.

you nod as you turn the reins to move custard in front of the small ramp alex and his dad made forever ago. you laugh in amazement as custard starts going up the ramp. you look over at cole, who's smile is almost bigger than your own.

you start bringing custard over to cole, who's been leaning on the fence, when a voice echoes into the yard.

"so this is where you two ran off to," katherine smiles as she walks up to cole. she pats him on the shoulder before greeting you again, just as she did before you asked her where cole was.

"dinner's ready. you're more than welcome to stay honey," katherine smiles.

"i don't think my mom will mind," you send a smile back to her.

"good. now cole, help your girlfriend," she points to cole who only laughs. he makes his way towards you and custard, and just like before, he offers you his hand to help you down.

his hand travels to your waist once both of your feet are on the ground.

he kisses the top of your head, "you know, for someone who said she hate horses, you sure seem to love riding them."

"that was before i knew about custard," you pet his mane again, and once again he leans into your touch.

"c'mon, help me put him away so my mom doesn't yell at us for being late."

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #my life with the walter boys #cole walter x reader #cole walter x you #cole walter x gn!reader #cole walter x gn reader #cole walter x fem reader #cole walter x fem!reader #cole walter x y/n #cole walter #mlwtwb #cole walter mlwtwb #my life with the walter boys fanfic #my life with the walter boys imagine #my life with the walter boys fic

167 notes · View notes

bby-deerling · 6 months

Note

hello!! first of all, i love your writing i think it's really well done. i was wondering if i could request for your event? "heaven can wait" + zoro? sfw please! thank you 🥰

you're so sweet anon! <3 thank you for the lovely request!

zoro x fem!reader + heaven can wait (sfw)

very fluffy, ft. special guest sanji being sanji, pride and prejudice references bc i cant help myself wc: 632 masterlist, song inspo

Groggy, aching, and bandaged, Zoro is not happy as he comes to his senses in the infirmary bed. On top of being grievously injured enough to miss out on valuable time training, there was an obnoxious buzzing sound in his right ear that just wouldn’t stop.

As he floated back into consciousness, he realizes, that no, he doesn’t have a sudden acute case of tinnitus; the shitty cook just won’t shut up.

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you—” Sanji swoons; his tone of voice is half-joking, but is like nails on a chalkboard to Zoro nonetheless.

Though Zoro’s eyes are still closed, he can feel you roll yours as you squeeze the swordsman’s hand.

“You’re more Collins than Darcy, blondie.” you tease. “I’m saying the word to cease all talk of your affections.”

“You wound me, dear!” he exclaims, feigning surprise and Zoro hears the clink of dishes—he must have brought something for you. “Despite your constant rejection, I love you and love you and—”

Zoro groans and sits up. “Quit buzzing around my woman like a mosquito and get me something to eat, moron.” he rasps. You smirk and hand him a glass of water that he eagerly gulps down, throat dry from too many hours of sleep. A bowl of half-eaten crème brûlée sits in your lap, and Zoro is increasingly irritated that the stupid cook hadn’t left to bring him any food yet and was instead staring at him expectantly.

“What?” the swordsman snarls.

“Least you can do is say please, mosshead.” the cook snaps back.

“The least you can do is say thank you for saving your ass. Again.” Zoro growls, starting to lose his patience. You give Sanji a glare, and the cook sighs and heads for the door.

“And read a different book for a change, moron.” Zoro shouts at the cook’s back, only getting a distant grumble in response as the door slams.

“Want some?” you ask, offering some of your dessert to the swordsman, but he shakes his head.

“Too sugary. Need some real food right now.” he replies gruffly as he shifts over in the bed to make room for you.

“He’s damn annoying.” he growls as you climb in next to him and snuggle into his side. “I’m out for a few hours and he’s circling around you like a vulture.”

“He does that all the time.” you point out. “He’s just lays it on thicker when you’re not awake to set him straight.”

“I better not die before you do then, I’d go crazy having to watch him swooning over you like an idiot.” he grumbles.

You giggle, mouth full of a spoonful of custard. “He is like a mosquito; you swat him away, but he just keeps coming back.” you say with a smirk once you swallow. “Makes a damn good crème brûlée though.”

“You’ve convinced me. Gimme a taste.” Zoro says, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. He moves to deepen the kiss, but is stopped by a pain in his side and lets out a hiss. You check his bandages to make sure everything is still in place, and help him settle back into a comfortable position, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He lets out an exhausted sigh. He’s happy to have you snuggled up with him while he recovers, but is frustrated that the heaven of your touch would have to wait. The door of the infirmary swings open, slamming against the wall and interrupting his thoughts.

At least the cook was finally back with his damn bowl of soup. Hopefully he wouldn’t stick around too long this time.

#one piece x reader #x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x you #one piece scenario #100 follower event #i had so much fun writing this hehe

237 notes · View notes

reallyromealone · 1 year

Text

Dadzawa and baby overhaul 2

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐Aizawa and Yamada were thankful it wasn't a school day, Yamada taking an emergency day so the family could get things for little (name).

"Now, what are our thoughts on this?" Yamada asked as they casted their laptop to the livingroom tv, a rainy Sunday meaning they couldn't go out shopping so it was at home shopping.

"I like the one with sheep!" Eri said excited as they looked at sleeper onsies as (name) snuggled in Aizawas arms, little pacifier in his mouth as he lazily watched the screen, enjoying the moving pictures.

(Name) was extremely attached to Aizawa, Eri mentioning how he was only really handled for feedings or changings so he was desperate for contact.

"How about we order some lunch? Then we can move onto furniture" Aizawa said as (name) stretched his little arms up, clearly content in his new dad's arms as the family discussed what they should get for lunch, (name) now sitting up and and bouncing slightly as they spoke.

"What do you think (name)? Western or Japanese food?" Yamada asked the babe, getting close and (name) obviously not understanding what's going on just raised his little arms and reached out to the blond, wanting to be held by him "oh so sweet, western it is!"

The family ordered (fast food) and in the bag Sanza brought was some baby food "let's see..." Shinso said reading the labels and looking a little disgusted at the combinations before spotting a bottle of custard "hey (name)" shinso said cheekily to the baby as everyone ate, (name) sitting his little bum on the carpeted floor.

Aizawa and Yamada were already recording as Shinso got on his stomach and put a baby spoonful to the boys mouth, (name) taking a bite before a shocked expression washed over his face, the boy bouncing slightly and smacking his lips "was that good?" Yamada asked as (name) reached out for the spoon.

"Well at least we know he likes sweets" Shinso said as he let Eri feed the boy a spoonful.

(Name) got five spoonfuls in before he looked like a drunk man on the floor, starfished on the carpet as his dad's took photos.

The day continued, the family ordering baby supplies there were coming the next day and they had called the local furniture store about the possibility of them delivering a baby crib same day, thankfully they didn't have many deliveries so it would be able to come within the next few hours.

(Name) took a nap on the couch as Aizawa and Yamada finished grading papers, the family doing their own thing.

Eri was also taking a small post meal nap as Shinso worked on a project.

"Oh Sho, look" Yamada points to their cats who finally graced them with their presence, the two cats taking note of the tiny baby and the fatter male cat lovingly named "cat" in English flopped beside him and joined in the nap.

The other one went to go eat before sitting on the arm of the couch and watching the tiny baby, leaning over to sniff him.

The two watched as the cats accepted the baby who was fast asleep, kicking his little legs every so often.

When the crib came, the two adults thought it would be best to put it in their room for fast access to the baby if need be, sho laying on the bed with little (name) laying in his chest as Yamada put together the crib.

(Name) stared at Aizawa who stared back, the babe wide eyed before reaching over with his chubby ravioli hands and grabbing Aizawas nose.

Yamazawa family were happy (name) acclimated so well, the boy fitting in like the last piece of the puzzle.

The end of the small vacation would be in a few days and Aizawa already emailed Nedzu about the newest edition.

"ABABABA!" (Name) yelled out at 6am on the dot to his new parents, the little babe making angry baby sounds for food "yeah yeah, I'm coming" Yamada mumbled as he stumbled shirtless to the crib and lifted the boy who snuggled into the warmth of his skin "a hug and a bottle should do you good" he mumbled sleepily as the two went to the kitchen to prepare the little listener a nice meal and some coffee brewing.

"There we go, look at you go" the blond watched tiredly as the babe drank his bottle with only a little assistance from the hero "still can't believe such a little bundle of happiness came from someone so terrible" Yamada mumbled as the babe looked at him with wonder "Eri is really excited to be your big sister, Shinso is even happy about it... You really fit in well"

When (name) finished his bottle, the others trudged out and Aizawa began breakfast as Shinso got himself and his sister some orange juice, the only one happy and awake was little (name) who babbled happily.

The morning was sleepy and calm as Aizawa let the baby try a little miso soup and was pleased at the babes happy reaction.

"His stuffs here" Aizawa said as Shinso took the tiny babe who gently smacked at his face as the adults brought in all the packages "look (name), all for you buddy!" Yamada said sweetly as little Eri helped bring in the obvious clothing packages "there.." "uh dad" Shinso looked at (name) in slight horror as the babe began grunting and looking focused and then a foul smell radiated off the baby.

Freshly changed (name) giggled at Yamadas grossed out face as he threw out the soiled diaper "yeah yeah, very funny" he said teasingly as they opened the packages to figure out what was what, the cats keeping the babe company as they folded all the adorable little clothes for him, the tiny socks and little shirts.

"So when are you guys gonna tell Aunt Nem and Uncle Oboro?" Shinso asked curiously as they cleared out the office that wasn't used much, the heros tending to work in the dining room or keep anything not meant for young eyes at the office.

"When we have him settled, were going to have to bring him tomorrow so they will probably meet him then" Aizawa said simply as he put (name) in a precious kitten onsie and a little cat themed pacifier "look (name)! Toys for you!" Yamada said bringing some freshly cleaned blocks for the babe, a few sound toys to urge him to learn speech.

For now they would just spend time with the tiniest member of the family, putting him in a rolling baby chair as they set stuff up for him.

#male reader #x male reader #bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #aizawa x male reader #aizawa x reader #child male reader #baby reader

786 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

Text

Black Light 12

Warnings: noncon, namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You feel a bit dreamy. Well, you always do. You sit in your bed, freshly made, fragrant with fabric softener, as you cut through the pages of old catalogues. Your fingers are sticky with glue as you arrange the images just so.

You can hear your mom downstairs, the bluetooth speaker playing Hall and Oates to her content. Your dad's outside trying to fix the fence post. You can hear him swearing through the crack of your window.

You hold out the scrapbook. You just need that globe right in that little space. Oh, the leather sofa is perfect.

You leave the book open on your bed to dry so the pages don't stick. You put on your dress with the daisies on white and spin in the mirror. Your yellow beret will go perfect. You put the hat on and a pair of matching clunky maryjanes.

You go downstairs and find your mother scavenging in the tupperware container you left on the counter. You squeal as she quickly closes the lid and covers her mouth guiltily. She backs away and giggles.

“I couldn't resist,” she says through a full mouth.

“Mom!” You stick your tongue out as you snatch up the container of cookies.

“You don't need all those,” she accuses.

“They're not for you.”

“I know, so… who are they for?” She tilts her head coyly.

“Someone,” you roll your eyes.

“A boy.”

You harrumph, “he's too old to be a boy.”

“Oh my gosh! That's so cute! Do we get to meet him?”

“No,” you pout and turn your chin up, “it's new.”

“Well, be safe. Don't get into too much trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you drag your feet and stop in the doorway, “mom, can you not tell dad?”

She laughs again, “sure, sweetie, our little secret.”

You smile, cheeks twitching. You don't need your parents nosing around. You're still figuring this all out.

🍪

You wait outside the club. It's almost seven. You thought he'd be there by now. The other bouncer is. Lee, that's his name.

You're not weird or anything. You've just been watching from across the street for an hour or two. Not your fault he didn't leave his number.

You cross the road as you see Lee come back out. He sees you and smiles. He's so friendly, you wish August would try that.

“Hi,” you hop over the curb, “is Auggy here yet?”

“Auggy? Nah, he's taking his time,” he eyes the container in your hands, “what's this?”

“Oh, just a surprise. You want one?”

“Depends. What's the surprise?”

You balance the container against the scrapbook beneath it and pop the corner of the lid up. You offer him one of the jelly cookies. They took you hours as you baked and waited to cool before adding the layer of jam and custard.

“Wow, you're a big baker,” he muses.

“Sometimes,” you preen.

He takes one and admires your craftsmanship, “my wife ain't so good about it. But she tries, bless her heart.”

“Oh, you have a wife?”

“Sweetest gal in the world,” he grins, “she's at home with the baby.”

“Baby?”

“Ah, just a cat, but she treats him like a child,” he chortles and takes a bite, letting out a hum.

“Ooh, I love kitties! What's his name?”

He swallows, “Hickory. He likes her better'n me.”

“Aw, adorable.”

“Maybe you can come meet em one day. You and Auggy. Like a double date?”

“Really!?” You snap the lid shut, “oh, I'd love that so much.”

You hear grumbles and the tramp of soles as a shadowy figure appears from the alley. Lee turns and throws a hand put derisively, “bout time.”

August stops short as he looks between you and Lee, his expression limned in the early hue of evening. His brows draw together as he coughs. He crosses his arms and glowers.

“What is she doin’ here?”

“Ask her,” Lee says before he tosses back the rest of the cookie and turns on his heel.

He pulls open the front door and disappears as you stand watching August. He drops his arms and marches towards you, past you as he goes to follow his fellow bouncer. You quickly get between him and the door.

“Sweetie, I brought you cookies!”

“What?” He reaches past you as you put your back to the door.

“I haven't heard from you in…. Like three days.”

He glares at you. You open the container and show your wares. He only pulls on the door, jarring you but not dislodging you.

“I got work–”

“And I brought you a surprise! So eat a cookie.”

He narrows his eyes. You stay locked in a stalemate as he tries to pull the door again. You lean into it and plant your heels.

“I'm being real nice here, sweetie, so take a damn cookie,” you feel a surge in your chest.

“Can't you take a hint?”

“Can't you?”

“What– look, I told you, this isn't a relationship or whatever you think it is.”

“I'm not stupid. This is real,” you insist, “get it? Me and you, Auggy Bear, together forever.”

“What are you–”

“Here,” you shove the container at him.

He doesn't move but you jam it into his chest and he finally relents and supports it.

You slide the book from beneath it and open it up, “this is our future. You see? Our home,” you show him the little touches of colour amid the neutral hues, a perfect melding of your personalities, “and our honeymoon. I'm open to change but I was thinking a cottage–”

“Are you insane?” He breathes scratchily.

“Insane?” You repeat and bat your lashes, “don't call me that.”

“We fucked. Once. There's nothing else between us–”

“There is!” You holler and slam the book shut, “and you know it. You would never have followed me home if you didn't mean it–”

“Shhh, shhh,” he waves you down, “hey, lower your voice.”

“That's what you did. You stalked me, sir, so… you want me too. You want me or you wouldn't have done what you did.”

“Please, just… calm down.”

“You won't even eat a cookie!” You accuse.

“Be quiet,” he hisses.

“Eat a cookie!”

“Would you listen, girl?”

“No! No, you will eat a cookie. I spent all day making them and– and– I'm not crazy. I'm not,” you clutch the book tight.

He sighs, his blue eyes gleaming as he slowly lifts the lid. He takes out a cookie, showing it to you before he takes a nibble. He swallows without chewing.

“There, happy? Now go home.”

You scrunch your nose at him, frustrated, “you could at least tell me you love me.”

“Love you?!?” He chokes and nearly drops the cookie.

“Yes, I know you do, because I would never give my virginity to someone who doesn't love me.”

He blanches and glimpses down at the cookie. His throat bobs. He raises his eyes and takes another deep breath, “I didn't realise…”

“That you love me, right?” You sneer as you step closer, “say it.”

“If I do, will you go?” He growls.

You nod and smile up at him, “I'll do whatever you want, pookie.”

‘Pookie… jesus, alright, I love you. Go home.” He nudges you out of his way and grabs the door with his free hand.

“Don't eat those all at once,” you call as you turn to peek inside the club, “oh, and you have crumbs in your mustache–”

The door slams between you and you pout, “love ya too…” you trail off. It's okay, it seems like it's new for him too.

#august walker #dark august walker #dark!august walker #august walker x reader #au #the club #series #drabble #mission impossible: fallout #black light

154 notes · View notes

sourlemonsprout · 2 months

Text

𝐵𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇

Alphonse x Seth x SugarBoo (gn!reader)

Word Count: 1,913

°°••….••°°°°••….••°°°°••….••°°

This little town absolutely loved to throw festivals, no matter the occasion - whether it was Christmas, Beer, Halloween, Music, Summer Solstice, or Spring, the locals poured their heart and soul into it. You appreciate how much spirit and enthusiasm they can pack into a celebration. After your delicious display of baked sweets at the annual Christmas festival a few years ago, the townsfolk practically begged you to cater at every event, and this time around was no different. If you could bake the treats the morning of to ensure they were as fresh as possible, you would. Unfortunately, there was too much to do in too little time, so you settled on the night before. Everything was going smooth as buttercream until you reached the new recipe you decided to try out. You wanted to step up the game and try something fancy, and what better way to go than Canelés de Bordeau, a small French pastry with a custard center and a thick caramelized crust. You'd acquired the special copper molds years ago, yet you'd never tried to make them until tonight, and it was starting to seem like you'd bit off more than you could chew.

"fuck fuck fuck fuck!" you yell slamming the oven door closed, hands pulling at the top of your hair as you walk in circles around the kitchen. The angered outburst and slight smell of burning sugar had caught the attention of the pink and brown-haired boys sitting in the next room over watching a movie.

"Boo?" Alphonse called from the couch. Seth shot Al a concerned glance as he paused the TV before they gingerly crept toward the kitchen. You felt the boy's eyes on you from the doorway, but didn't look their way. Your movement stopped, jaw tight and fists clasped in a white-knuckled grip, your hands practically shaking. Al ran up beside you and rubbed the sides of your arms.

"Hey, hey! Baby! It's ok." he bent at the knees slightly to look you in the eyes.

"Let's just breathe for a moment, yeah?" He helped guide your breathing by inhaling deeply through his mouth and out his nose until you seemed physically calmer. Seth peaked in the oven and quickly understood what the outburst was about. The custard was bubbling over their little trays, the edges starting to burn. He didn't know much about baking, but based on their state and your reaction, he knew this meant they were unsalvageable, so he turned off the oven and removed the tray.

"Talk to us, what's goin' on?"

"I wanted to try something special and it's completely ruined." you pout.

"Well Sugar, you already have two fantastic-lookin' treats, I'm sure everyone would be just fine with this." Seth tried.

"Yeah! And you know everyone is going to love whatever you hand out," Alphonse added, but it was no use you were fixated on these Canelés.

"I always have at least three items." you protest.

"What do you want to do?" Seth questioned, moving a little closer to you two. Your mind was consumed by anger and scattered thoughts, making it difficult to focus. Alphonse scanned your face as you thought, seeing that this wasn't helpful, he threw out an option, hoping this would alleviate decision-making stress.

"Do you want to go to the store and pick up something pre-made to hand out tomorrow?" he proposed softly. You shot him a cold glare that could kill.

"Ok, ok." he threw his hands up.

"They're looking forward to my baking. They specifically requested my catering again." you expound. As you continued to mumble about the quality of store-bought goods, Alphonse looked across the kitchen. The countertop was littered with ingredients and the sink was on the brim of overflowing with dirty dishes. He glanced over at the clock, which read 11:09 pm.

"Ok, well, it's gettin' late, do you want to try and make another batch?" he questioned.

"I don't have enough eggs or butter to make another batch," you state.

The kitchen was uncomfortably silent for a few moments, the smell of burnt defeat loomed in the air above you three.

"Gimme a list Sugar, I'll head out and grab whatever you need," Seth spoke up.

"Yeah, and while he's out, I'll help clean up the kitchen!" Al said eagerly. The heavy frustration that lingered in your chest finally fizzled out, and a tired fuzziness settling in your system took its place. Your face turns into a downward smile and despite your best efforts, you can't stop the tears that are flowing down your cheeks.

"Oh Boo," Al chuckles, scooping you into a bear hug.

"You know we're here for you," Seth joins the hug, wrapping his arms tightly around the both of you.

"I love you guys so much," you sniffle into their chests.

"Okok," Al says, gently pulling you away from his chest, a hand slides down to the small of your back as he tilts his head to look at your tear-stained face.

"Why don't you go take a hot shower to relax babe, it's going to be a minute before everything is ready for you," he said placing a smooch on your forehead.

"mmk," you sniff, handing your apron to Al before shuffling your way upstairs.

"I still need that list..." Seth mumbled as he watched you disappear.

"That's alright man, we can look at the recipe and figure out what they need," Al said, cracking knuckles.

Seth knew he'd have to find a convenience store to pick up all the necessary ingredients, given grocery stores would be closing at this time of the night. He finally found a 7-Eleven and pulled into the parking lot. As he stood next to his bike rubbing his hands together and blowing into them to regain warmth, he mentally reviewed the list he and Al had made.

Fuck, why do all convenience stores have to have such bright lights? He thought as he entered the shop squinting. He made quick work and gathered everything on his checklist. Just as he was about to check out, a neon sign caught his eye toward the back of the store. He wandered over to the refrigerated display cases. I'll never understand why they enjoy this stuff, it's just battery acid in a fancy can. He thought to himself as he picked up your favorite energy drink.

You sat on the floor of your shower, enjoying the steaming water pouring over your back as your muscles relaxed. How incredibly lucky were you to have two amazing people taking care of you? As the warm water eventually ran out, you reluctantly stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel. You tiptoed out of the bathroom and made your way to your room to slip into some comfy clothes. You let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of the soft fabric against your skin. The mere thought of putting on jeans again made you feel suffocated and discouraged as if you were about to embark on a daunting task. As you rubbed the towel through your hair one last time, you heard the faint sound of the front door opening, followed by the crinkling of bags. Now that the red cloud of frustration wasn't blinding your every thought, you were able to reflect upon the disappointing batch of custardy treats. Descending the stairs slowly, you carefully pondered every detail before devising a new plan that you hoped would result in a perfectly crafted batch of delicious treats. As you rounded the corner back to the kitchen, which was now sparkling clean, Seth caught your eyes and held up your favorite energy drink with a big toothy grin.

"I got this for ya since I figured you'd be stayin' up pretty late."

This man truly knew the way to your heart.

You walked over to where he stood and took the can before cupping the side of his face and placing a big kiss on his cheek.

"Aw look at you tryin' to score brownie points," Al smirked.

The evening drew on, and the boys did the best they could to stay awake with you as you baked the night away. Eventually, Al had to tap out and go to bed, not before promising to help package all the goodies the next morning. Seth was not too far behind, he was practically half-asleep at the kitchen table when you told him you had it all handled, and that he should go to bed. Exhaustion started to prick at your mind, the effects of your caffeinated beverage were wearing off as the last few minutes of the oven's timer ticked down.

As you pulled out the tray filled with perfectly baked Canelés, a tremendous wave of relief and satisfaction washed over you. The feeling only intensified as you cautiously removed each pastry from its molds, revealing a beautiful amber caramel coating. They looked as if they had just come from a French bakery. You lazily cleaned a few items around the counter before calling it quits, there'd be time tomorrow to deal with this mess. Grateful to finally be done, you dragged yourself to bed and collapsed in between your boys, nuzzling your face in between Seth's shoulder and draping an arm over his side. Just as you were about to drift off, you felt Alphonse slide up behind you, your back now flush against his chest as he rubbed your arm sleepily.

"m'love you Boo..." he whispered against your neck before falling back into a deep sleep.

Hours later, you woke up and reached out, expecting to find someone by your side, but the bed was completely empty. Confused, you sat up and rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the grogginess of sleep. Panic started to rise in your chest as you checked your phone to see that the festivities were starting in fifteen minutes. Despite your time constraint, you couldn't help but spend the extra minute to throw together a cute outfit, before running downstairs. You were slightly out of breath when you reached the festival, which was set up around the heart of town, near Al's shop. Your pace crawled to a halt as you spotted Seth standing beside a table with his back to you. The boys had chosen a charming tablecloth that complemented the decor of the foldout table. They'd packaged and arranged the three batches of baked goodies, aligning them neatly for folks to grab them and go. You snuck up behind him and slipped your arms around his waist, resting your chip on his shoulder.

"Well hey there sleepin' beauty, or should I say baking beauty?" he chuckled at his own joke, to which you roll your eyes. You turn to the sound of another familiar voice,

"How'd you sleep Boo?" Alphonse asked, handing you an iced caramel latte, your favorite.

"Oooo! I'm definitely gonna need this," you say happily taking the coffee from your boyfriend.

"Look who's trying to score brownie points now," Seth mumbled sassily.

"Honestly, I slept pretty good!" You say, taking a quick sip,

"Seth's snoring is like the perfect white noise, it lulls me right to sleep," you giggle.

"You guys are seriously the best," You set your latte down and then wrap your arms around each of them, pulling them close to give them a little kiss.

"I couldn't have done this without you."

°°••….••°°°°••….••°°°°••….••°°

The End <3

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice fandom #yuurivoice stuff #yuurivoice alphonse #yuurivoice fanfic #yuurivoice seth #yv fanfic #fanfic #fluff #writting #alphonse yuurivoice #seth yuurivoice #yuurivoice sugarboo #poly #sourlemonsprout

87 notes · View notes