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#OTHERWISE WHY EVEN LIVE??? IF NOT FOR HAPPINESS???? FINDING HAPPINESS IS YOUR
accio-victuuri · 3 days
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this is on hs right now. days ago, there was a similar tag with the first lacoste ad. and it is coming up again because of his lacoste challenge. tho most of it is praise, of course, as things with someone like yibo goes, there will be haters. aside from the usual people who can’t handle how he is living his best life: just finished a highly rated tv drama, a movie to be released may 1st, a new endorsement scheduled to be announced, an international campaign etc. but there is also the side of how some people view a person’s ability to speak english as a sign of absolute intelligence.
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p1 shows the reaction i would say of international fans too cause we found it endearing and cute. it’s nothing serious. you can even hear the people in that video cheering for him by the end of it. p2 are the toxic shits who are gagging to find something negative to stick to yibo. i doubt people commenting could even carry a proper conversation in english. or they do and feel superior about themselves — which is tragic. some even boasting about their ielts score lol. i’m dying. ielts is a dumb exam. i’m sorry but it is. you can’t tell me otherwise. and like, it was supposed to be a fun challenge. but i guess most c-netizen’s lives are so sad that they have to make everything a test.
why can’t you all be happy that someone is representing your country in a positive way abroad???? why can’t you all just chill. yibo was in that campaign along with really well known athletes + a brand like lacoste. the jealousy is so strong when it comes to yibo. and they should prepare to cry every night cause it will only go up from here. yibo will continue to succeed. 👑
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detransraichu · 2 months
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Have you watched any of pokemon concierge and if so do you have thoughts? The pokemon look so cute!!!
I FREAKIGN LOST IT DUDE IT WAS EVERYTHINGGGG oh my god i'm high on really nice edibles and i'm in a great mood thanks to y'all so i might go watch that right now!! :D thank u in advance for the transcendent brain-exploding happiness i shall experience <3
#lay text#THE ART IS SOOOO PWETTY#I LOVE HOW SHE STARTS OFF UPTIGHT AND THE VIEWER IS LIKELY TO VIEW OTHER PPL THERE AS LAZY SLACKERS AND HER AS PRODUCTIVE#BUT THEN IT TURNS OUT THEY STILL GET SHIT DONE#THEY JUST DO IT AS FAST AS IT NEEDS TO BE. WHICH OFTEN MEANS NOT VERY FAST!#IT'S OKAY TO PACE YOURSELF! YOU DON'T NEED TO WORK *THAT* HARD!#THAT'S NOT HOW LARGE MAMMALS DO#LOOK AT LIONS -- THEY LOOOOVE THEIR NAPS#LOOK AT ANIMAL SPECIES THAT R PRODUCTIVE AS FUCK. THEY STILL HAVE DOWNTIME PERIODS#YOU CAN RELAX. YOU CAN BE HUMAN. JUST BE KIND AND SHARE LOVE AND ENJOY LIFE#IT'S OKAY TO BE MESSY W YOUR SCHEDULE#IT'S OKAY TO NOT DO IT PERFECTLY OR IN THE MOST EFFICIENT WAY#IT'S OKAY TO PRIORITIZE ENJOYING LIFE#YOU CAN GET ALL YOUR SHIT DONE AND STILL TAKE TIME TO SMELL THE FLOWERS AND HAVE FUN OTHERWISE WHAT R U LIVING FOR?????#THIS BEAUTIFUL THING IS RIGHT HERE THIS WORLD THIS WONDERFUL WORLD!!!!! LEARN TO ACTUALLY APPRECIATE IT!!!#SO MANY OPPORTUNITIES AT UR FINGERTIPS!!!!#IF WORK DOESN'T ALLOW FOR THAT THEN WORK NEEDS TO CHANGE CUZ YOUR LIFE IS ABOUT YOUR QUALITY OF LIFE#OTHERWISE WHY EVEN LIVE??? IF NOT FOR HAPPINESS???? FINDING HAPPINESS IS YOUR#1 JOB IN LIFE#A PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS IS THE MOST HUMAN THING#ALSO THE POKEMONS ARE CUTE AND HAVE PERSONALITIES AND SPECIES TRAITS AND IDK THEY ADD LITTLE DETAILS#THAT MAKES IT ALL FEEL SO GENUINE AND LIVED IN#I LOVE THOSE GUYS.... FRIEND SHAPED#ALL FRIEND SHAPED#EVEN THE BAD ONES. IT'S NOT THEIR FAULT. THEY'RE LIMITED BY THEIR BODIES JUST LIKE WE ARE.....#OKAY SORRY I HAVE RAMBLING DISORDER
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spacedlexi · 11 months
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sooo glad we live in the universe where twdgs4 was rewritten to be about saving the school instead of the original lis2-esque on the road each-episode-is-a-new-location plot. really dodged a bullet there
dont know if it was due to the cuts and collapsing work environment (no budget for all the assets needed) or what but the school plot is just like the perfect setting for her to end her story. and we really almost got a plot about her.... just trying to make it back to her original house? oof
#my biggest problem with lis2 is that being on the road made a lot of your choices essentially meaningless#like wheres the threat of consequence when you know youll be gone by the next episode anyway?#the kids were originally gonna kick them out permanently.......Nightmare Scenario#the plot of her trying to get back 'home' is so silly honestly like its Just nostalgia/fan bait. convince me otherwise you cant#it makes no sense....she lived right outside a major city... that place is Not safe anymore#it wasnt even safe when she left it 8 years ago girl why would you go back#her finding a place to MAKE a new home and having to fight for it? with a community of her peers who love and respect her? so much better#shes a community leader now :) of a bunch of kids living secretly in the woods just trying to make a safe home for themselves#in a hostile world that wants them dead#love that for her#shes been managing adults since she was 11 and even before that tried to be a voice of reason. at 8 years old. community leader makes sense#s4 is just so narratively sound to me for clems character that i cant believe there was ever any other direction they wanted to go in#every time im thinking about how good s4 is i remember what it almost was......... and i am so grateful we got what we did#not only do we live in the universe where s4 is about the school but we Also live in the universe where s4 was un-cancelled :) yay#shit makes me so happy man. i remember clem is living happily at ericsons and my day is Immediately improved#these little fictional bitches in my head giving me free serotonin on command#it speaks#twdg
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medicinemane · 1 month
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The problem with people who are "right" because they insist they're right, and the only way to be right is to simply perfectly follow their every dictation on the subject unquestioningly is this...
Ok, let's just take it as a given that you're right... the problem here is that if that's what's right I'm afraid I have to dig my heels into being wrong. If you are as righteous and just as you insist you are then I've got no choice but to be the villain because I can't stand what you're saying I'd have to do to be good
Shockingly I even think it's wrong, which is odd because we've already defined it that you're inherently and unassailably right... yet here we are
Worst part is there's a lot of these things where I'm not even full stop against it, I actually might be on their side if they could stop and address a couple of issues I consider kind of important... but they won't, because they're morally right and don't have time for addressing nonexistent issues I'm clearly just dreaming up
Undoubtedly right they are, the defect must surely be my own... and yet here we are. Vile and wicked as it might make me, I still can't just go along with you
#mm tag so i can find things later#and whatever you think this is about and however you've already decided it agrees with you#I'll say this is about like... minimum 2 topics at very different points in the political spectrum... and probably like 20 easy#so like... it may well be talking about your own behavior on certain subjects#I'm talking about not even being willing to entertain good faith questions#and especially about labeling anyone who doesn't tow your exact party line a horrible person#...the amount of shit where it's like 'you know I actually agree with you... except for this one major sticking point'#'just tell me how we deal with this one pretty big thing and I'm fully on board' and... well actually you're terrible for that#or the amount of places where it's like I agree with your goals; but not your methods but... I don't think arguing would do a damn thing#you've already dug your heels in so deep and maybe you're even right to do it.. but I'll never go along with it no matter what that makes m#and the number of overall good people I know who this post is honestly about#they may well be far better than I am; I've never claimed to be good; quite the opposite#and yet I'm afraid I have to say that... to me you're wrong; wrong in concrete ways#maybe you could even address my concerns and help me see with my stupid brain why these aren't issues... but you won't#because you're right; and you know you're right; and so you'll never be wrong#and this isn't just some idle whataboutism... or maybe it is; I'll never say I'm the moral arbiter; again I could be wickedly wrong#and there's a variety of reasons someone believes what they believe; but... there's often blind dogma at the end#I may be stupid; but I can usually draw a line from my stance to something in the world#maybe it's a stupid nonsense line and I don't see my mental gymnastics... very well could be#but I can draw a line... it's not just circular logic; it's not just bouncing between two points#and I often can actually point to places I'm not happy with how things are or will be... we live in the real world and that sucks#example that... man it's more politically charged than I like getting; but ok#I really want this Ukrainian aid to pass even though I don't like the Israeli aid attached... but I get that's the only way it's passing#I want the Ukraine aid because I see residential houses getting stuck by missiles; but I don't want the Israeli aid for the same reason#and it comes down to that I think that the aid amount is sufficiently higher to Ukraine to make it enough of a net positive#I could be wrong... but you can at least see my work; I'm coming at it from a perspective of bombing civilians is wrong#I could be stupid; I could point to two people I know on here who would tell me I'm stupid for at least one part of this... probably all#yet there it is... and... it'll be hard to convince me otherwise
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suguann · 2 months
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an. part two of this | masterlist
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You tell him you broke up with your boyfriend while he’s away for work, bunked up in a safe house in the middle of nowhere with shit reception, hearing your words as clear as day as if they weren’t the chopped-up version coming through his burner phone.
“It just…didn’t work out.”
It didn’t work out.
He pretends his stomach doesn’t pleasantly twist because he’d expected it to happen eventually. He’s not happy about it—although it does make the desert heat more bearable in his heavy tactical gear—and tells Soap to fuck off when he comments on it.
It was a one-time fuck because Simon doesn’t date. He’s tried in the past before he met you—the flowers, the late-night dinners—but with him being gone almost every other month (sometimes longer, shorter if he’s lucky), it never works out in the end. Sleeping with you twice would fall under that category, the quasi-relationship kind, and make everything messier than it needs to be. 
Just some fun, no strings, those are the words he promised.
If only he believed them.
He does, for all of two weeks until he’s home again, and it’s summer, so you’re wearing a flowy dress that shows off the long expanse of your legs. 
(He’s a goner—not even sure why he tried to think otherwise.)
That one time he’d promised turns into a second, both of you stumbling into your apartment after a night out. The music from the pub still thumping loudly underneath your floor as he pushes you against the front door, hands in your hair—on your waist, underneath your skirt, down your thigh to hitch it over his waist—teasing your mouth open with a swipe of his tongue across your bottom lip.
You make this delighted little noise in the back of your throat, arching into him, and his hand spans down your stomach, beneath your underwear, to nudge your messy clit with his knuckle, wanting to hear all the sounds you make now that he has you alone. 
A whiny cry of his name rewards him—jeans tightening around his waist at the sound—when his fingers go down, down until they press against your tight little hole, one finger pressing inside slowly. "If I make you cum, I get to fuck you here.”
You smile prettily, and it disarms him. “If you make me cum, you can fuck me however you want.”
Neither of you makes it to the bed, falling asleep on the living room floor instead, the blanket from the couch draped haphazardly over both of you with his arm curled over your waist.
That night had been a slip of judgment, a product of wanting something warm and soft after several months of only having his hand for company.
It happens again and again, and he keeps letting it happen until there’s no more hiding under the guise of just fun because it somehow turns into a lot more than that.
Simon can’t explain how it happens—maybe becoming something he can touch and hold and think about often—but he finds himself in an exclusive relationship with you that isn’t exactly a relationship because he’s unsure of the ins and outs that they entail.
(Always has been.)
His father was a shit role model, and it was always easier finding someone new who didn’t know his name or care about his scars and only wanted a nice fuck. There had never been any point in shooting for something serious when it was always out of the question for him, until now, that is.
He takes you to that over-rated restaurant overlooking the Thames Marcus never brought you to. A picture of you and him with the sunset in the background—your smile almost blinding in the photo—becomes his home screen, and he finds he doesn’t care when Soap has something to say about it.
He lets you do nonsensical shit, like buying small plants for his house that are surely going to die from him being gone before he comes up with the great idea to give you a key. It’s just a key.
(It’s more than just a key.)
Simon finds himself asking if he can come over more often throughout the week, which slowly moulds and shifts into nights filled with things other than sex—sleeping after a long day of work, cuddling on the couch, cooking together, going to the movies—he doesn’t try to make a big deal out of it because you used to hang out all the time without sex. 
(Somewhere, there’s a but in there.)
There’s still no label to whatever this is, and he wonders if you want him to be the first to say the thing you’ve both been dancing around for a little over…he can’t remember, but he knows it’s been long enough for your things to mix in with his at his house. 
Be with me because I’m yours, and you’re mine, that’s what he’s trying to say, and it’s never the right time. Men like him—a little broken, rough, and jagged around the edges sharp enough to cut—aren’t good with words like that.
(That’s what he thought.)
If he hadn’t seen you talking to a guy at the pub, eyes crinkling in that same sweet way whenever Simon makes you laugh, he wonders if he would’ve been the first to break from the start. He knows it’s your job as a bartender to be nice, but his jaw clicks at the sight of the guy leaning over the bar and into your space, almost too close.
The feeling doesn’t go away until he has you spread out on your mattress under him—clothes haphazardly peeled out of the way for him to put his mouth on you—your lips pursed tight around two of his fingers to give you something to focus on as his other hand works between your thighs, pressing down on your tongue when gurgled little sounds slip out.
He teases you with a small, pink vibrator he found inside your bedside table, your legs kicking out and toes curling into his calves.
“Mine. This is mine, love,” he groans, pressing you further into the bed with his weight. “Do you understand?”
You nod, tears pearling and leaking from the corner of your eyes.
“Lemme cum,” you whine, words muffled. “Simon, I want to cum. Please.”
He won’t lie that he’s close after jerking into his fist to the sight of you writhing on the sheets—swears he can feel his heartbeat throbbing against the back of his fingers—takes in your surprised expression when he pushes forward, impaling you on the first few inches of his cock.
His stomach twists from the squeal that escapes your throat, and fuck, your cunt, so hot and tight with little pulses that drive him crazy, only growing tighter when he turns up the speed on the vibrator.
“‘Mm, gonna cum. I’m—”
He grits his teeth as you start to flutter around his cock once he’s rooted inside you. “Go on—fuck—go on, love. Let me feel it.”
You look so perfect like this, like a dream: lips parted into an enticing little O with his name tumbling out in breathy mewls, tits hanging out from the bra he shoved to the side, eyes glassy and unfocused. 
“So fucking pretty.” He kisses your throat, panting into your sweat-slick skin, and it’s not long before he’s falling over the edge with you. 
Next time, he’ll have the courage to tell you: that you’re not someone he calls for a meaningless fuck on the weekend, that Simon misses you when he’s gone and can’t wait to come home, that he wants to try with you—except not when he’s balls deep and trembling inside your heavenly cunt.
But the smile he feels against his shoulder makes him think that maybe…
Maybe you already know.
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bisexualbaker · 6 months
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Why do people keep recommending Dreamwidth as a Tumblr alternative, when Dreamwidth and Tumblr are so different?
To be flat-out honest, it's because Dreamwidth has so many things that Tumblr users say they want, even if it's also lacking a lot of features that Tumblr users have come to love:
Dreamwidth has incredibly lax content hosting rules. I'd say that it's slightly more restrictive than AO3, but only just slightly, and only because AO3's abuse team has been so overwhelmed and over-worked. Otherwise, the hosting policies are pretty similar. You want to go nuts, show nuts? You can do that on Dreamwidth.
In fact, Dreamwidth is so serious about "go nuts, show nuts", it gave up the ability to accept transactions through PayPal in 2009 to protect our ability to do that. (It's also one reason why Dreamwidth doesn't have an app: Dreamwidth will never be beholden to Apple's content rules this way.)
Dreamwidth cares about your privacy; it doesn't sell your data, and barely collects any to begin with. As far as I'm aware, it only collects what it needs to run the site. The owners have also spoken out on behalf of internet privacy many times, and are prepared to put their money where their mouth is.
No ads. Ever. Period. They mean it. Dreamwidth is entirely user funded.
Posts viewed in reverse chronological order; no algorithm, opt-in or otherwise. No algorithm at all. No "For You" or "Suggested" page. You still entirely create and curate your own experience.
The ability to make posts that only your "mutuals", or even only a specific subset of your "mutuals", can see. Want to make a post that's only open to Bonnie, Clyde, Butch, and Cassidy? You can do that! Want to make a post that's only open to Bonnie and Butch, but Clyde and Cassidy can't see shit? You can do that, too!
The owners have forsworn NFTs and the blockchain in general. Not as big a worry now as it was even a year ago, but still good to know!
We are explicitly the customers of Dreamwidth. Dreamwidth wants to make us happy, so any changes they make (and they do make changes) are made with us in mind, and after exploring as many possibilities as they can.
Dreamwidth is very transparent about their policies and changes. If you want to know why they're making a specific change, or keeping or getting rid of a feature, they will tell you. You don't have to find out ten months later that they're locked into a contract to keep it for a year (cough cough Tumblr Live cough cough).
So those are some things that Tumblr users would probably love about Dreamwidth.
Another reason Dreamwidth keeps being recommended is that a significant portion of the Age 30+ crowd spent a lot of earlier fandom years on a site known as LiveJournal. Dreamwidth may not be much like Tumblr, but it it started out as a code fork of LiveJournal, so it will be very familiar to anyone who spent any time there. Except better.
Finally, we're recommending Dreamwidth because some of the things that Tumblr users want are just... not going to happen on the web as it is now. Image hosting is the big one for this. Maybe in the future, the price of data will be much cheaper, and Dreamwidth will be able to host as much as we all want for a pittance that a fraction of the userbase will happily pay for everyone, but right now that's just not possible.
Everywhere you want to go that hosts a lot of images will either be running lots of ads, selling your data, or both.
Dreamwidth knows how much it costs to host your data, and has budgeted for that. They are hosting within their means, within our means.
Dreamwidth is the closest thing we may ever get to AO3 as a social media platform. One of the co-owners is from, and still in, fandom; she knows our values, because they are also her values. It may as well be the Blogsite Of Our Own.
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lovelybucky1 · 7 months
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Treat Me Wrong
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Kinktober Day 16- Degradation Kink
warnings: AFAB!Reader, manipulation, gaslighting, cheating, sex work, roleplay, spanking, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, 18+ minors DNI
main masterlist
kinktober masterlist
“I think we should break up,” you say.
Tommy’s face twists in anger and confusion. “Where’d you get that idea?” he asks.
This is exactly why you want to break up. He’s so dismissive and he doesn’t respect you. He’s sitting relaxed in his chair like you didn’t just suggest ending your relationship. Why is it so difficult for him to care about you?
“I’m not happy!” you say.
Tommy scoffs in response. “You live like a princess. What else could you possibly need?”
“Love and attention,” you huff.
“Christ,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “Are you a child? Do you really need me to attend to you all day to be content?”
“Not all day, Tommy. Just sometimes. What's the point in even having a lover if you won't spend time with them?"
"You act like I have a lot of free time to waste. I'm a very busy man."
His way of having excuses for everything make you feel like you're going insane.
"You have enough time to spend with prostitutes," you say bitterly. This makes Tommy perk up. "I know you go to see them after work and lie to me when you get home late. Why do you bother stringing me along if you'd rather pay for your companionship?"
Tommy chuckles darkly. "That's what this is about, eh?"
"Why the fuck are you laughing, Tommy?"
He stands up from his chair and crosses the room to stand in front of you. He places one hand on your hip while the other holds his cigarette. The smoke swirls in front of your face, the pungent smell burning your nose.
"You're jealous of my whores?" he asks smugly.
"What do they have that I don't," you ask angrily.
"I have certain needs that they satisfy."
You scoff and push his hand off of you. "We're together, Tommy. You should come to me to satisfy your needs, not step out on me."
Tommy rolls his eyes and grabs ahold of your wrist. "What I need isn't appropriate for a high society woman like yourself."
You furrow your brows in confusion, but no matter what he's talking about, you want to be able to provide it for him. "You don't get to decide what's appropriate for me or not. Besides, you'd know that I'm very adventurous if you ever took the time to actually be intimate with me."
He blinks slowly at you and licks his lips, then smirks devilishly. "You want me to treat you like one of my whores?"
"Yes, Tommy."
"Right." Tommy stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray on the side table, the turns his attention back to you. Both of his hands are on your hips now, holding you firmly. "You promise not to get upset?"
"Why would I get upset?"
Tommy fights back a smirk. "Because I tend to be a bit... harsh."
"Harsh?" you ask.
"You said you want me to fuck you like a whore. A dirty, cheap, used up whore that's only good for taking cock. Is that right?" You hesitantly nod. "Then until I'm finished, that's exactly what you're going to be. I'm only going to stop if you tell me to, otherwise I'm going to have you just like I have them."
"Okay," you breathe.
Tommy steps away from you and sits back in his chair. "Take your dress off," he instructs.
You find it a bit odd that he's just watching instead of also getting undressed, but it does make you feel better that the prostitutes he visits don't get to see him naked.
You strip piece by piece until you're bare in front of him. He stands up again and looks over your body, occasionally prodding and groping you.
"Turn around," he says, voice low. You do as he says and you allow yourself to be moved over to the couch. Tommy pushes you so you're bent at the waist over the arm rest, bare ass on display.
Tommy continues to grope you; he slaps your cheeks, spreads and slaps them, and teases at your folds.
“Wet already? Didn’t think whores got off on their work,” he says.
Without much prep, he shoves two fingers into your cunt. Like a true whore, you take them easily. He opens you up by scissoring his fingers inside you. He's going quickly, not bothering to take his time and make it pleasurable for you. You suppose he pays for his own pleasure, not yours.
"Already loose too. How many others did you have today?" he asks. When you don't answer him, he delivers a slap to your ass.
"N-none," you whimper.
"Sounds like business is slow."
He pulls his fingers out of you and wipes your wetness on your thigh. He then moves to press his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the bulge in his slacks. He grinds up against you shamelessly, making you feel even more humiliated now that he's simulating fucking you while he's fully dressed.
"Tell me you want my cock," he orders.
"I want your cock," you parrot with a whine in your voice.
"You can be more convincing than that," he says with a slap to your ass. "Be a good whore and beg me to fuck you."
You take a deep breath. "Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad... Mr. Shelby," you add for good measure.
That seems to please him, because he moves away from you far enough to pull his cock through his fly. He rubs the head through your folds, teasing your entrance with it.
"I'm not going to catch anything from fucking you raw, am I?" he asks, though he knows the answer.
"No, sir," you reply.
You're glad he bent you over like this, because that means he can't see your embarrassed face and you don't have to look into his intimidating eyes.
"Mm, good."
He pushes inside you, not gently but he doesn't aim to hurt you. Once he's fully seated inside, he begins to thrust before you're ready for it. You gasp in surprise, but you're helpless to do anything but take it.
"Didn't think pussy so cheap would take me so well," he groans. His hands grip tightly on your hips and he slams you back to meet each of his thrusts. His cock bumps against your cervix uncomfortably, but it feels best for him when you take it all the way, and that's the only thing that matters.
With each thrust, you make a punched out little moan. Tommy, however, is silent above you, save for a bit of heavy breathing. It isn't until you arch your back and really start putting on a show that he speaks up.
"Like a fuckin' professional, eh? I should come to you more often. Y'know, my woman's a real bitch sometimes. Never lets me fuck her like this. Thinks she's too good to get bent over. Has so many opinions, too. But you're a good woman; quiet, tight," he leans down, draping himself over your back to speak into your ear. "Obedient."
You can't help but moan at his filthy words, despite how degrading they are. You shouldn't find your lover talking badly about you so arousing, but you cant help it.
"She gets so mad I cheat on her but I think she'd understand if she felt this cunt for herself. 'm gonna marry her and fuck her full of babies to keep her busy while I give the real good stuff to you."
"Fuck," you whimper and immediately regret it.
"You like when I talk to you like a whore? You like getting fucked hard like I don't love you?"
It's rare that Tommy says he loves you. So rare, in fact, that you often doubt if it's true.
"Yes, yes," you gasp. "I love you."
"Mm," he hums. "Save it for when I'm not paying you."
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safetypinxtales · 4 months
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Together with you | Azriel
(Lonely with you pt. 2)
summary: heart break sucks. Missing your friend sucks even more. It is mind-blowing what a little open communication can do.
words: 4.1k
warnings: angst with happy ending, terrible communication at parts (sorry), mention of alcohol consumption, fluff, just general misery, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, dumb idiots in love
notes: so this got a lot more angsty than first anticipated, but here it is! Not sure how I feel about it, I like some parts, not so sure about others - feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!
part 1
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Cold. Your bed was freezing cold. And empty. 
Like lying on a frozen slab of stone, utterly alone and undeniably pathetic. Just as alone and pathetic as yesterday, when you woke up on the couch in the living room. No Azriel in sight. Like he wasn’t the one to practically beg you not to leave him alone, and then he went and did that exact thing to you. 
It was humiliating. You were humiliated.
And that was why you had avoided him like he was contagious for all of yesterday, burying yourself in paperwork or hiding away in the library. But your plan was far from foolproof, you’d barely made it through yesterday without seeing him, so today had to be different. If being close to you was so shameful he had to sneak away before you had a chance to wake, you would simply remove yourself from the situation and spare yourself some Gods damned dignity. 
You had already written to Mor, your excuse of needing to get away from the happily mated couple for a few nights only a half lie. You were in desperate need of a good night’s rest, however that was not the most pressing issue at hand. But there was no need for her to know that. Yet. She would find out eventually, she always did, and you would be stupid to expect otherwise. 
Two hours past sunrise should mean that the Valkyrie training would be full and well underway, and thus it would be safe for you to make your escape. You got the things you’d need and made your way up the stairs to one of the smaller balconies overlooking the training ring. You knew you really shouldn’t, because what good would it do? But you had to. Just a quick glance. Quietly you moved towards the railing, scanning the people below. 
There he was, a thing of graceful, terrifying beauty. He seemed to be demonstrating a movement with a training sword for some of the priestesses. He moved with such fluidity, wielding the sword in his hand as if it was an extension of himself. He was like death on swift feet. A fallen angel, a dark prince. 
He was beautiful.
You must have accidentally made a sound, because his head shot up and his eyes zeroed in on you. Oh Gods. The intensity in his gaze, and the increasing pressure in your chest was too much. He didn’t want you. 
You staggered back, one little step and you had winnowed yourself down to the city streets. This was good, you needed to get away. He left you alone. He drew back first. You knew all of this, so why did it hurt such an unreasonable amount?
You rubbed your chest in hopes of getting rid of the tightness that seemed to have moved in there since yesterday morning, and then you set course towards the one stop you had to make before getting to Mor’s. 
-
It had been three days since you arrived at Mor’s apartment with a paper bag filled with the sweetest, sugar-powdered pastries your favourite bakery had to offer. It had taken you both approximately 20 minutes to devour them all, after which you no longer had anything to distract your friend from digging up the truth behind your visit. 
You were in love with someone who did not harbour the same feelings towards you. And you desperately needed to get away from him, to save what remained of your heart. 
You had cried, drank some wine, and then cried a little more. You went back to the bakery for more pastries the next day, and the cycle repeated. 
The crisp, early-spring wind was a menace today as you were on your, now daily, pastry run. You were trying to stop your hair from whipping around like a being possessed, cursing up a storm, when you heard him call your name. 
You froze to the spot, like his voice was some primal command. That insufferable tightness in your chest was as present as ever as you forced yourself to put on your brave face and turned towards him. 
There he was, jogging towards you, his brow furrowed. 
“Hey,” Azriel breathed as he came to a stop in front of you. His shadows swirled out in your direction, but retracted before they had a chance to reach you. 
“Hi,” you mumbled back, suddenly finding the cobbled street very interesting. 
He cleared his throat and took a step closer. You took one backwards. The cobblestone looks different here than in the alley by the bakery. 
“I haven’t seen you in a while… you haven’t been home – at the House, I mean,”  he coughed lightly. I wonder if it was made with, like, a different technique? Or maybe the stones are just differently shaped or something?
“Yeah, no, I’ve been staying with Mor for a bit.” It’s definitely mossier on the smaller streets, maybe that’s why? It just shifts the perspecti–
“Angel, please look at me.” 
You didn’t want to, Gods you didn’t want to. But alas, you seemed to have no power when it came to Azriel. 
Any other day, the worry swimming in those hazel eyes would have melted your heart. Today, it just hurt. “Did I do something? Is that why you… haven’t been around?” 
You scoff, “No, you didn’t do anything, Azriel. It’s fine.”
“It’s obviously not fine! I haven’t seen you in days, and now you can barely look at me?” He exclaimed, exasperation clear in his voice. “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped, or made you uncomfortable – but I miss my friend,” his hands twitched where they rested at his sides, shadows swirling around him with unease.
“Oh, please,” his brows furrowed further at the dry laugh that escaped you, “Are you being serious, Az? I fell asleep in your arms, after you pleaded with me to stay with you – and then I woke up alone.” His face fell. “How do you think that feels? I mean, you must know how I feel about you!” You cursed yourself for the way your voice quivered, and that damned burning feeling behind your eyes that you were so sick of.
“What– no, I didn’t– what do you–,” he stuttered. He actually stuttered. The spymaster of the Night court couldn’t even come up with an excuse for being an ass.
“Save it. I get it – you were lonely, we’ve all been there,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have to go.”
You turned back in the direction of Mor’s apartment, pastries be damned. You just had to get away.
Azriel had other plans though. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, the cool wisps of shadows snaking up your forearm. You couldn’t help the way you recoiled from his touch, how it seemed to ignite every nerve in your arm. 
“Wait–,”
“NO!” A sob wracked your body. “No, just leave me alone, Az. Can’t you tell that you’re hurting me?” His face twisted in time with your words, and tears pricked your eyes. “Being around you hurts!” 
His shadows were whipping violently around him, but he was as still as death itself.  Something like dread and confusion were clouding his eyes.
He called after you as you walked away. But he didn’t stop you, nor did he try to follow you. And you didn’t dare look over your shoulder, too scared you might run back and give him the rest of your heart, shattered as it may be. No, instead you carried the shards in your hands, tears rolling down your cheeks, one after the other. 
You weren’t sure how you were ever going to be okay. 
-
The bedroom door creaked open, and you pulled the duvet further over your head.
“Hey sleepyhead,” Mor said in a sing-song voice. You weren’t sleeping.
“I’m not asleep,” you muttered, huffing loudly at the giggle that escaped her.
“Yeah, well, calling you a crybaby would be insensitive so I went for the next best thing.” 
Her comment made the corners of your lips twitch, and you silently cursed her for always knowing how to cheer you up. You had gotten quite comfortable in your misery.
You pulled the covers down and looked over at where she stood. Your chest grew uncomfortably tight when you saw what was in her hands. 
“Another one?” You asked and rolled over to face the window. You had forgotten how stubborn he was. Competitive bastard. 
“Yes, and they just seem to get bigger and bigger. I like the daffodils in this one though, very spring-esque. The other ones didn’t have any daffodils,” she mused as she walked in and headed towards the far end of the room, most likely towards the dresser. It was the only surface area not currently taken up by a bouquet.
This was the sixth bouquet he’d sent. In three days. He had turned Mor’s guest room into a damn flower shop. Just being in a ten feet proximity of this room would have sent Cassian into a sneezing frenzy.
“Remember that time in Elain’s garden, when you told me daffodils were your mom’s favourite flower? That she called you her little daffodil when she carried you in her womb? They are very beautiful – just like you. 
“Yours, Azriel.” Mor read the note before carefully putting it back with the flowers. 
Every set of flowers had come with its own handwritten note. He had apologised in the first one, the rest told you he missed you, recalling memories of moments you’d shared. Each one ended with a heartfelt compliment, one that brought tears to your eyes every time, without fail.
Mor let out a slight sigh. “I am fully on your side here, and I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but… are you sure you don’t want to talk to him? I know you’re hurt, and you have every right to be, but… he’s a good male and he likes you – a lot.” 
She’s right. You figured that out two days ago. But your pride was wounded, and your trust had been betrayed, and it stung. 
However, somewhere along when the initial pain had started to diminish it had slowly but surely gotten replaced by the agony of missing him. Now you didn’t know what part of the pain came from what, you only knew that it hurt. 
But Gods, you really did miss him – more and more by the minute. You missed him in your bones; your best friend, your partner in crime, the male you loved. 
“Alright, you don’t have to say anything. I have to visit Rhysand to go over some work though, and I won’t be home until late tonight, probably. There is food and tea in the kitchen, or you can go down to the pub downstairs and ask them to make you something. Just… make sure to go there earlier in the evening to avoid drunken idiots, okay?” You rolled over to look at your friend, who once again proved herself to be way better than you deserved. You nodded. 
“Thank you,” you whispered and her lips curved upwards in a soft smile.
“Of course, take care of yourself,” she said, that warm smile still intact as she made her way out of the room, closing the door behind her. 
After dragging out your stay in bed a few more minutes, the thought of a warm cup of tea became too enticing to ignore. Chucking on a thick sweater you dragged your feet out of the bedroom.
Once in the kitchen, you put the kettle on the stove and went in search of some tea. Where was the one Mor made you yesterday? The one that felt like drinking a warm, spiced hug – you needed that one right now. You found it in one of the cupboards just in time for the water to start boiling. So you made your cup of tea, drizzled in a little bit of honey, and walked out to the living room. You had just put your tea down and made your way over to the wall of bookshelves to pick out a new story to escape into when there was a knock on the door.
The way your entire body froze, yet seemed to come alive at the same time, signalled you knew who it was. How your body and soul could possibly know it was Azriel on the other side of that door, you weren’t sure. But alas, as you crossed the living room towards the entryway and tugged the front door open, there he was. 
He looked tired. His eyes seemed uncharacteristically old, his skin dull and the bags under his eyes were undeniable. Despite this he still managed to look as breath-taking as always. 
Those tired eyes met yours, and you swore you felt time stop. He was here. Your Azriel. 
Except he wasn’t yours, was he? A truth that only stung worse when your name fell from his lips. But seeing him here, like this… you could live with never having him, you thought. As long as he was in your life, if only as a friend.
That’s why you breathed out a “hi,”, and opened the door wider, a silent invitation to step inside. His shoulders sagged in relief as he stepped over the threshold.
“Hey,” Azriel whispered on a shaky breath, as you closed the door behind him. You stood in silence for a minute, neither of you apparently knowing what to say.
Azriel was the first to break the silence, “so, uh– did you get the…”. Bouquets is what he didn’t say, but he didn’t have to.
“Yeah, yeah I did,” you mumbled, never really meeting his eyes. “Pretty.”
“Yeah? Okay,” you could see him nodding out of the corner of your eye. “Good.”
You raised your gaze to meet his, and your heart clenched. You just wanted things back to the way they were, you wanted your friend back. Because standing here in front of him, not knowing what to say was awful. So you did the only thing you could think of…
“I miss you.” Your voice wavered more than you’d ever care to admit, but there it was – the truth. 
Azriel’s shoulders visibly shuddered at your confession. “Oh, angel,” it was your time to shudder. “I’ve missed you too, so much. I’m so sorry,” his eyes glazed over as he continued, “but please believe me when I say that I did not know – about how you felt. And maybe that makes me stupid, and blind, and oblivious–”
“No,” you interrupted him, “you’re not any of those things, Az.” His deprecating words wounded you so deeply, a heavy sadness filling your chest. 
“I should have known. I never would have– I wouldn’t have been such a coward if I knew.” You swore you heard the remnants of your heart crack. 
“Azzy…” You stepped towards him and reached up to cradle his face in your hands. His own hands flew up to your wrist and you prepared for him to reject your touch. 
Only he didn’t. 
Instead he gently held your hands in place and leaned into your touch in a manner so tender your breath hitched in your throat. His thumbs swiped across the backs of your wrists.
“I’m sorry, I got all up in my head and I–,” you didn’t let him finish.
“It’s okay Azriel, I forgive you.” His posture straightened a little as you continued, “I’m sorry too.” 
You felt a tear roll down your cheek, and before you could even register it happening, Azriel had pulled you into a hug. He wrapped an arm around your waist, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he held you against his chest. He was so warm, and comfortable, and safe, and one tear became two, became three. All the while, Azriel held you, wings enveloping you in a cocoon as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. 
After what felt like hours, but was merely just minutes, Azriel dropped his wings from around you and as you felt his arms ease their hold on you, you took half a step back. His hand that had cradled the back of your head now cupped your cheek, the other came to rest on your hip.
You dried your tears, ungracefully wiping snot from your nose, and you once again lifted your head in search of those hazel eyes you had grown so in love with. And as your gazes locked – that’s when you felt it.
Like the snap of a bowstring, dead center in the middle of your chest, that glowing, golden thread locked into place – forever connecting your soul with the male across from you. 
The impact was so intense you staggered back, knocking into the end table behind you. Your hand flew up to your chest, fingers clutching the fabric of your sweater as you tried to make sense of what just happened. 
Azriel is your mate.
Does he know? Does he even want you? A thousand thoughts swarmed your head, but they were all overpowered by one: mate. He was your mate. 
Azriel stood, one arm still partially outstretched, eyes wide and brow furrowed. Something like bewilderment filled you to an overwhelming degree, and it took you a moment to realise that the feelings did not belong to you. They were all Azriel, unable to keep his emotions from bleeding across the bond to you. 
“You’re my–,” you stuttered.
“Yes,” he breathed in response.
“I– I’m your–”
“Yes,”
“You knew?” His eyes shuttered at your question.
“Yes,”
You had to sit down. 
You wobbled over to the couch and dropped down. You didn’t even realise he’d followed you until you felt the seat dip beside you. 
He seemed to realise words were not something currently in your possession, and took it upon himself to start to explain.
“You were sleeping, had been for probably an hour at least, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I have–,” he swallowed and his whole body shook as he professed his next words. “I have been in love with you since the moment I saw you. When Rhysand introduced you to everyone and you were trying to sneak glances at all of us, thinking you were being discreet. You weren’t – quite the opposite actually.” You turned your head to look at him. One of those rare smiles decorated his face as he recalled the memory. “I think everyone noticed, but no one said anything. They were all probably as smitten by you as I was. Not only were you so adorable, you were the most divine female I had ever seen. Your eyes shone so brightly, and you radiated such calmness, such security – like every problem that had ever been wasn’t so bad after all. Like everything was always going to be fine, as long as you were around. You looked heavenly. Like an angel.” He whispered the last part and as his eyes met yours you sucked in a breath at the emotion swimming in them. 
Angel. His dedicated pet name for you. What he had been calling you, and only you, since that very first day. Not only were you the only person with that specific pet name – you were the only one of Azriel’s friend to even have a pet name, you realised. Sure, he referred to Rhysand and Cassian as his brothers. But you were his angel. 
“You love me?” You croaked, fresh tears filling your eyes.
“Yes, I do.” You hiccupped, face twisting as your chest filled to the brim with so many emotions you could not possibly name them all. He took your hands in his, and gave them a light squeeze as he continued, “When we were on that couch I was just… watching you. Holding you. Realising how perfectly you fit in my arms, when you moved. You snuggled deeper into my chest, like being close to me was an instinctual need, and then you sighed, and you smiled in your sleep – and I couldn’t breathe,” he took a deep breath, “that’s when the bond snapped.” You wanted to reach out and smooth out that crease between his eyebrows. Instead you just moved closer to him, pressed yourself into his side, and when he looked down at you, you gave it your best at pushing some of that endless love you held for him down that glittering bond. 
A sharp exhale left his parted lips and he gave your still entwined hands another squeeze. When he looked at you his cheeks were tinged with pink, the tips of his ears flushed. 
He loved you. 
He was your mate and he loved you.
“I was so shocked. Why would it snap now and not earlier?” He shook his head, his eyes not once leaving yours. “Then I started to… doubt myself,” his brows furrowed deeper, “what if you didn’t want me? I didn’t even know if you knew. Knew and… and decided you didn’t want to be with me. The Gods know I don’t deserve you.” 
You couldn’t help the broken whimper that escaped you as you listened to this wonderful male voice how lowly he thought of himself. 
“Don’t say that Azriel,” you croaked, your voice thick from crying. “I love you so much. I look at you and my heart fills to a point where I genuinely think it might burst,” you coughed out an attempt at a laugh. “You are a good male, and I could not imagine a greater honour than the Mother choosing you as my mate.”
A single tear rolled down Azriel’s cheek at your confession. You untangled your hands from his, instead crawling into his lap. This wonderful male, and he was all yours. The love that filled your chest felt so secure, so safe. Like the warmth of the morning sun. Like the smell of freshly baked bread, and early morning bird song. It felt like the beginning of something great. 
You raked your hands through his hair, and as you leaned in to kiss that lone tear away from his jaw, you watched his eyes shutter closed. 
“I love you,” you whispered against his lips, your forehead coming to rest against his, “my mate.�� 
His hands found your hips and gripped them tightly, and the touch was more than welcomed. If it was up to you to decide, he would never let you go – forever in each other’s embrace. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered once more, breath hot against your lips. “I shouldn’t have–… please don’t leave me again.”
“Never,” you promised, and then, like waves crashing ashore, you leaned in that last bit and pressed your lips to his. 
His entire body shook beneath you as he reciprocated the kiss, moulding his lips to yours and you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly right it felt. Like coming home. And as your lips moved together that glowing thread became a wild, real, physical thing between you. His hands gripped you tighter, like you were his lifeline. Pulling you impossibly closer, as if you were the air he needed to breathe. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip and your lips parted, letting your tongues meet in the most delicious of ways. 
The kiss was claiming, overpowering and you could not help the whine that escaped you as his fingers dug into your sides. A primal growl rattled deep in his throat, alighting every nerve in your body. 
This.
You wanted to stay right here, just like this, forever. 
-
You didn’t know how long you actually did stay like that – the two of you seemed to, again, be able to defy the concept of time together. But you were now laying on the couch, Azriel’s heart drumming a steady beat in your ear, a warm, overwhelming comfort overtaking your body. 
Slowly, you started to feel yourself drifting off to sleep, and with your head on his chest, his arms around you, the opening and closing of the front door and Mor’s voice that followed, felt so very far away. You almost didn’t apprehend what she said as her voice moved in closer.
“You better not leave her this time,” she ordered, and the rumble of Azriel’s voice, how very safe it made you feel, lulled you deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. 
Your body was impossibly heavy, the words he mumbled into your hair the last thing you registered before sleep claimed you.
“I won't,” he pressed a kiss to your head, “never again.”
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tags: @hnyclover @justdreamstars @historygeekqueen @sharknutz @icey--stars @mel-wcst @alysena2 @lewsnumerounofan
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evermount · 6 months
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Evermount is a dystopian IF that takes inspiration from movies like "Don't Worry, Darling" and "Maze Runner." (18+)
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Every day's the same: you wake up, you brush your teeth, you step into the shower, you get out, you make breakfast, you clean, as a homemaker does, and then, at exactly 12.10—not a second earlier or later—there's a knock. You then step out of the house and into the streets: the Mingle.
It's compulsory.
It only happens in pairs—everyone has a designated friend. And you're no stranger; you have one too—you are one too.
You walk, you talk, and you spend the majority of the day together—two hours minimum outside, gazing at the endless rows of pale houses in the neighbourhood; for the rest of the time, before it's time to prep dinner, you're free to do as you please with your friend.
That's Evermount.
Blue-suited guards stand in every corner, but they're no threat—you're under threat. And this is how you keep safe. It's necessary; the council said so themselves. Under no circumstances shall Evermount be left, ever. So, no one has, and no one intends to.
Why would you? It's peaceful—you're at peace. You have your spouse, and you have your house; everyone's happy. This is all you've ever known.
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The Spouse [f/m] | Enemies to lovers
Every day at 7:00, you wake up, arrange breakfast on the table, wrap up the leftover dinner, and position yourself on the front porch, holding their lunch bag against your chest. The kiss is so swift that you hardly process it, and then they're gone. You wave, with a smile on your face, as you watch their car merge into a stream of Chevrolet Bel Airs—supplied by the council—all heading to work. In the evening, you share dinner, in silence. They don't talk much—only when there's company. Sometimes, it feels like you don't even know them.
The Officer [f/m] | Friends to lovers
Their eyes scanned yours, filled with concern. A deep crease cut straight through the centre of their brow, marring their otherwise smooth face. Their lips moved hastily, and they clutched your hand, but you felt yourself slipping away, slowly. "I promise, we'll find you." Those words are so strange, you recall them, every day. But that's all. You don't remember the date, the time, or why. A figment of your imagination, maybe? You see them in your dreams. Yet you don't know who they are—if they even exist.
The Voice [f/m] | ???
You're. Not. Crazy. But someone who isn't you speaks inside your head. To you. They'd lock you up for that. Take you somewhere far away. But you feel the exact same—you're no danger. So, you don't tell. You just keep acting as you are.
The Friend [f/m] | Forbidden romance  (relationship history can be an affair)
Your partner in crime, as some might say. They're your friend—you've been assigned since the beginning. But they were already living here, long before you and your spouse moved into the neighbourhood, before you two were assigned together. They talk a lot, more than your spouse. They like you, and you like them. That's what friends are supposed to do; that's what the Mingle is for—it's bad to feel alone, and the council doesn't want that.
The Council Member [f/m] | Forbidden romance
"Don't trust them," the voice warns. Your eyes narrow at them; the area under their eyes is hollow, worn, riddled with fine lines. They expel an exhausted breath and reposition the tie that's wrapped around their neck, way too tight. They look the part. They look like everyone else in Evermount, yet they're not: they're in the council, they're above you.
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DEMO (TBD) 𖤓 INTROS
reblogs are appreciated!
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earthtooz · 1 year
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x : MORE :*+゚
in which: rin's not happy with your decision to sleep on the couch.
warnings: cliché lol, 1.1k, hurt/comfort, gn!reader, unedited + ooc!rin towards the end, a lot of metaphors but hey one cliché leads to another.
a/n: this is practice for me to a) get back into writing and b) remind u guys that i am still writing luls, enjoy!! reblogs r vv appreciated, but this quality is actually so ass.
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“are you sure you want to sleep out here tonight?” rin’s voice asks from the hallway entrance, slight concern laced in his tone as he watches your backside set up on the couch, fidgeting with the pillows and blankets.
“yeah, i’m positive,” you answer, not turning around to look at him; something rin frowns at. 
“oh…” he mutters, leaning awkwardly on the wall as he scours his brain to try and find something to say. “really?”
“yes, really.”
“won’t you be uncomfortable?”
“i’ll be fine. it’s not that bad here.”
“if you’re sure.”
silence cuts the conversation with a cold knife, leaving the two of you in the suffocating quiet, one that stops rin from instigating further conversation despite how badly he wanted to continue. because if he shuts up then that means he has to leave, but he doesn’t want to leave you alone. he wants you to come to bed so the two of you can sleep peacefully together and not (what feels like) eons apart where he can’t hold you.
“are you going to go to bed? it’s getting late,” you ask, no hint of hostility at all in your tone as you shuffle under the covers, disappearing from rin’s view completely. 
he bites the inside of his cheek, disheartened at your eagerness to see him go. “oh, right. goodnight.”
he lingers for a second longer, waiting for a ‘goodnight’ back, or even better, an ‘i love you’, but neither comes and rin feels his chest contract. 
rin didn’t mean for the argument to escalate, he didn’t mean to sharpen his words and pierce you with them, he didn’t mean to hurt you to the point that you didn’t want to sleep beside him.
as he slowly makes his way to your shared bedroom, your absence on your side of the bed hits him even harder. it’s cold. it’s empty. it’s void. rin loathes it.
you’re not faring much better, replaying the argument in your head over and over again as the small, coffee table lamp illuminates the room with a warm yellow. each replay of the memory just twists the knife further and causes a new batch of tears to wet your eyes. 
you hate this. you hate feeling weary around rin, you hate feeling like you need to walk on egg shells around him from now on, you hate feeling like he doesn’t value you the same way you do with him, you hate these new revelations coming to your brain as you reflect on your relationship-
“you’re still awake?” a voice comes from the hallway.
leaning up onto your elbows, you blink in shock at the new figure making itself known. thanks to the lamp, you can see rin from where he stands, and you can see the confusion in his eyes.
“uh… yeah,” you say.
“why are you still up?”
“i was thinking. why are you still up?”
“i…” rin hesitates for a second, “i wanted to check up on you.”
your heart flutters at his shy confession. “i’m fine, thank you.”
“you sure?”
“yeah.”
“why, are you not fine?”
no, he’s not. he wants you to come back to bed, he wants you to reassure him that the two of you will still be okay, he wants you.
“no,” lies rin. “i’m okay.”
the soccer player regrets his words instantly. 
“that’s good. i’m gonna sleep now and you should too, you have a big day tomorrow.”
but rin can’t sleep. not without you beside him because otherwise, the bed is too vacant and too chilly and reminds him of the life he used to live too much.
and he’s scared that he’ll have to go back to living like that if you’re not there beside him, petrified that you’ll leave in the middle of the night because you’ve realised that he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you. 
instead of confessing that, the dark-haired merely sighs, the words lodging themselves in his throat. “okay. i’m off.”
you reach over to turn off the lamp, engulfing the room in darkness with a single click. “goodnight, rin.”
“i love you,” rin confesses, but it’s too quiet and too breathy for you to hear, so there’s no response. he hopes you know.
so, he retreats back into the barren wasteland that is your shared bedroom. he misses you. he reaches over to your side in hopes of being to feel some remnants of comfort.
30 minutes later, rin wakes again after weaving in and out of consciousness and he’s sick of it. it’s 1:10am and he only has five hours until he needs to get up. decisively, he throws the cover off of him and makes his way to the living room, intent on this trip being his last one. 
it’s dark in the living room and rin can’t find it in him to turn on a light and disturb your slumber, so after adjusting to the dark and mindlessly patting around, he eventually threads his arms underneath you. he lifts you up so effortlessly, driven by determination and love as he walks to familiar path back to your shared bedroom.
he settles you down gently and the last thing rin remembers before drifting off is the warming feeling of content as he pulls you into his arms. 
the following morning, you rouse to the sound of a blaring alarm; the one rin always uses because otherwise gentle alarms won’t coax him successfully. your lover shuffles beside you, shutting the clock off with a groan before wrapping an arm around you again, pulling you into his warmth.
wait.
you raise yourself up onto your elbows, dazed and confused. weren’t you meant to be on the couch?
“don’t go,” rin murmurs, snaking his arm up to wrap your shoulders instead, gently guiding you down to the mattress, “sleep.”
“how did i get here?” you ask and rin stiffens before pulling you in to his chest. “rin, i’m being serious.”
“you were always here.”
“don’t lie to me.”
“i’m not lying, so let’s sleep.”
you’re sick of his shit. “itoshi rin, i swear to-”
“i carried you back here, now shut up. i only have 10 minutes before i have to get up and get ready.” 
“i think i’ll go back to the couch, actually,” you say jokingly.
“not funny.”
“i think it’s plenty funny.”
he frowns, wrapping himself around you even tighter. you don’t hug him back, but you’re here and that’s all that matters to rin. you didn’t leave like he thought you would. 
“i’m sorry,” he whispers, “for last night. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“it’s okay, rin, we can talk about it later.” 
“we’re okay right?” 
“of course.”
“you… you won’t leave. right?”
“i would never. why would you think i would?” 
“just being stupid, i guess.”
“better you than me.”
he huffs, letting the conversation die to silence.
you speak up again, “i love you.” 
rin feels a weight lift off his shoulders. he can breathe again.
“i love you more.” 
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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barcaatthemoon · 2 months
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let her go || leah williamson x reader ||
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you notice some problems in your relationship with leah and take some time away from her.
you knew what it was like to live in a broken home. growing up, your home life had always been rough. your parents had refused to get a divorce, despite never having been happy a day in your life. apparently things hadn't always been that way according to your other family, but you had never really known peace at home.
that was why whenever you noticed things getting difficult with leah, you knew it was only a matter of time. she was getting irritable, and despite your best efforts to talk, all she wanted to do was argue. she wanted someone to take her anger out on, and you just happened to be the only person there.
it wasn't fair, and while leah seemed to understand that sometimes, she didn't nearly enough for you to stay. that was why whenever she had gone away for international camp, you spent that time thinking a lot of things over. you wanted to spend the rest of your life with leah, but not if she was going to be acting the way she had for the past several months. you just couldn't stay in a relationship like that.
"what are you doing?" you had decided to leave, but not to go until leah had gotten back. the last thing you wanted was for her to think that you had just abandoned her. she had been too good to you for too long for you to just do that.
"i'm going to stay with my sister in manchester for a little bit. maybe permanently, i haven't decided yet," you told her. leah's shock was evident on her face as she stared you down. she hoped that you were joking, but the solemn look on your face told her otherwise.
"why are you leaving? (y/n), i want you to stay. don't go, i need you. i need you to stay, please," leah said. she looked like she was about ready to drop to her knees and beg you to stay, which was the last thing that you wanted. you had hoped that this would be a quick exit, that leah would be in another one of her moods and just let you go.
"leah, please don't do this. with the way things have been, this is the best solution for a little while," you sighed. leah seemed shocked by your very valid reasoning. she had been so used to being the reasonable and rational one for so long. it felt very out of character for you to suddenly be making a decision like this for the right reason.
"what am i supposed to do then?" leah winced at the raising of her own voice. it was unintentional. "do you want an apology? tell me what i can do to fix this so you'll stay."
"there's nothing you can do or say that will make me stay. i'm sorry leah, i am. just let me go for a little while. i need time to think about us." despite every fiber of her being telling her to fight you on this, leah stepped out of your way. you brought your first set of bags down to the car before you went back up to get your last suitcase.
"can we set some rules before you leave?" leah asked you. a part of her felt like it was a big ask, one that she didn't even necessarily need to make. she knew that you were faithful, and even on a break, you'd never go out and find someone else. it was someone finding you that worried leah to no end.
"that depends on what you had in mind." you crossed your arms over your chest as you waited for her to speak again.
"this isn't a break-up or even a break, not really. i want you to check in with me, let me know that you're doing okay. whenever you need or want to talk, i'll always answer you. remember that i'm waiting for you back here, please. don't forget about what we've got here, and all the things that are sure to come," leah told you. she grabbed onto your hands and rubbed her thumbs over your knuckles. "i love you."
"i love you too." you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of leah's mouth. it wasn't much, but it was just what she needed to ease her mind a little bit. the small token of affection had always been something you'd done whenever leah got too inside of her own head. for you to pull her out of it before you left put leah at ease just enough for her to not immediately follow you all the way to manchester.
it was the hardest six weeks of her life, but leah had managed to give you the distance that you asked for. she had never been more grateful for a break in football in her life. usually she spent the off-season wishing for games or something, but it was nice not to have to worry about keeping her playing form good while she worried about whether or not you'd ever come back to her.
your return was, admittedly unceremonious. you didn't want leah to make a big deal over it, so you didn't even really tell her that you were coming back. instead, you simply told her that you were going to be in london to spend time with alessia, who had been making the trip up to manchester to see you several times a week.
"hey babe," you said casually as you pressed a kiss to leah's cheek. she glanced back at you, surprised to see you enter the apartment so casually. you had visited once or twice since you had left, but it had been sort of strained and tense between the two of you. "how are you?"
"good. i thought you were going out with les, what are you doing here?" leah asked you. you moved around the side of the couch and dropped down next to her. leah seemed a bit apprehensive, but she let you cuddle up against her side.
"i want to come home," you told her. leah looked surprised and a little confused. "can i come home please?"
"you don't have to ask me. i told you that i'd wait for you to be ready," leah reminded you. you knew that, but you didn't think it was fair to just walk back into her life without asking if it was okay first. "all i've wanted for the past month is for you to come back. i was kind of mad about you leaving, but i get it."
"what happened?" you asked her. leah shrugged, glancing down at her lap with a look of guilt etched onto her features. "leah?"
"a few of my teammates may have pointed out that i was being an asshole. you took care of me at my worst, and i didn't repay you with any sort of kindness. i'll do better, i promise. just please, promise me that next time i act like that, you'll call me out. i don't care if they tell me i'll never play again, call me out on my bullshit for the love of god. i'd rather be insulted than going to bed alone," leah told you. she was rambling a bit, which you found absolutely adorable.
"i promise not to just sit with my feelings like that again. it's not fair to either of us," you promised. leah smiled as she pressed a kiss to your forehead.
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littlejuicebox · 3 months
Text
The wish spell worked.
Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader/Tav
Summary/Setting: 10 years post BG3. Follows my HC for spawn Astarion arc. See my other fics for more information, but otherwise the title speaks for itself. :)
Rating/Warnings: PG / allusions to sexual behaviors / fluff / in-game spoilers / lightest bit of angst if you squint but not really / this is self-indulgent af and idc / so sweet it will rot your teeth
Word Count: 2.2 K
A/N: HAPPY 400 FOLLOWERS POST! Thank you to everyone who likes my stories and provides encouragement. I love you all! I originally wanted to post this as a New Years Eve/Day special, but I couldn't get it quite right by then. After several reiterations, this is what we finally have! Hope it was worth the wait and multiple edits for you guys! :)
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If anyone had told Astarion Ancunin a decade ago that he would one day hold Gale Dekarios on a pedestal nearly as high as the one on which he held his darling Tav, the immortal elf might have actually died from laughter. The strange irony and wicked life lessons of fate were not lost on the retired rogue. Unbelievably and annoyingly, Astarion eventually found himself indebted to the wizard in a way he could never repay. 
The wish spell worked.
It had taken years for Gale to feel absolutely ready to cast the spell. Astarion waited — exasperated, impatient, and impetuous — for what felt like the longest ten years of his ageless lifetime to be given the gift of mortality. 
More than once, in the pale elf’s tearful fits of frustration, he accused the wizard of intentionally stringing him along or simply not having the skills to perform such a spell and not wanting to admit it. More than once, you had to calmly remind your husband of the great lengths Gale had gone to find information regarding the act and the even greater risk to both the vampire and the wizard if the spell was not cast perfectly and mindfully. 
It had been a long decade, waiting for that impossible possibility, but the wait had been more than worth it.
Just over ten years after you met that silver-haired rake on the beach, Astarion was miraculously returned to his living, breathing, heart beating, mortal elven form. Surprisingly, not much changed about his appearance. Most notably, his eyes turned a gold-flecked green, and his complexion took on a constant soft pink undertone, permanently tinged by the circulation of his own blood by his own heart. That beautiful undertone caused a delightful blush to creep across his cheeks and ears whenever you teased or aroused him, and you took an even more significant liking to both these behaviors, just to watch that gorgeous rosiness creep across his skin. 
And while you dearly loved that blush, your favorite part of the change had certainly been the steady beating of his heart. You would rest your head on your lover’s chest for hours to savor the sound if he let you, wrapped tightly in the new found warmth of his long limbs.
While you became obsessed with Astarion’s steadily thrumming heart, he’d become obsessed with his reflection. As soon as he’d been able to see himself, your husband had taken to having you sit on his lap while you primped and preened. He would stare into the looking glass with you for long lengths of time, his limbs coiled around your waist and chin often resting on your shoulder as he studied the mirror with a besotted, hazy smile on his face. 
After a few weeks of this, you finally asked your silver-haired husband why he seemed positively obsessed with this new behavior. Astarion’s response had floored you.
“Darling, in my over 200 years, I never imagined I would have a love of my own, nor did I ever imagine what we would look like together. I couldn’t have envisioned such a thing even if I thought it a possibility or wanted to. I simply couldn’t envision myself at all. But now seeing it? I want to commit everything to memory exactly as it is… because it’s the most precious vision in the world to me.”
And really how else could you respond to that apart from kissing your sappy, bleeding heart of a husband and allowing him to continue the practice?
Of course, the two of you behaving as innocent love birds hadn’t been the only thing Astarion wanted to see in the mirror. On more than one occasion, he’d easily charmed you into the throes of passion in perfect view of a reflective surface. Your husband’s darker, more carnal half had become obsessed with watching you two in the act and it certainly thrilled you to know he was trying to commit those sensual sights to memory. You were quite happy to oblige. 
As such, you’d soon found yourself carrying the byproduct of one of your many erotic couplings.
“That was a big one.” Astarion murmurs, and you see a smile creeping across the reflection of his face in the mirror as he glances down and runs his long fingers across the swell of your abdomen. His arms are looped around you as you sit front of the vanity mirror, placing the final touches on your appearance. 
You agree with a gentle hum, moving a hand to your pregnant belly and rubbing circles on the stretch of skin, hoping to calm the young life stirring within. You coo softly to the rolling babe as you finish your primping, “Surely you aren’t thinking about breaking out of there yet, my little love. You have a few more months to go.”
Astarion’s now-warm hands cover yours as the little one seems to do somersaults in response to your voice, causing you to wince slightly as they jolt against your ribs. He presses a tender kiss into your shoulder and chuckles, “This one is strong like their mother and impatient like their father… we may be in for a spot of trouble in a few years, my love.”
You laugh in response as you stand with a pitiable amount of effort and quite a bit of assistance from the supportive arm of your husband. “I believe you’re right… but surely we’ve taken on scarier and more difficult things than a stubborn babe.”
Astarion hums in agreement before pressing a kiss to your swollen stomach, which is hovering just in front of him now, “Surely, darling. Now let us all go say hi to Uncle and Auntie Ravengard. I’m positively famished.”
-----
You are almost out of breath as you walk the final steps toward the entry of the Duke’s home. Astarion had practically begged you to take the carriage all the way through Wyll’s estate, but you waved him off, adamant that a bit light exercise would be good for the baby. The walkway was fully paved, how hard could it be?
As it turned out, you’d severely overestimated your abilities. Though it was just under a quarter mile to the front doors of the manor when you’d decided to exit the carriage, you were no longer the young, lithe woman that traversed the wilds with a petulant vampire a decade ago. The weight of your belly slowed you down more than you would admit. Astarion implored you, more than once and with growing concern and exasperation, to return to carriage. You refused each time, forcing the driver to follow behind at a snail’s pace.
“Gods, I hope this child does not take on your stubborn streak. I will be constantly overrun in my own home.” Astarion huffs, dabbing at the few beads of sweat on your brow with a silken handkerchief as he helps you climb the small flight of stairs at the entryway of Wyll’s home. He rolls his eyes as you laugh, breathlessly, and lean into him for support as he presses a kiss at the meeting point between your cheek and ear. “But, my sweet, as much as I would have preferred we stayed in the coach, you know I adore the way you look with your cheeks all flushed after a bit of… exertion.”
It’s your turn to roll your eyes at your husband as he traces his hand over your flushed cheek, his expression practically brimming with desire. The flush on the tips of his ears is a telltale sign of his salacious thoughts. If he had it his way, he’d be dragging you into the carriage right there for a quickie. But, he knew you two were nearly running late for dinner with the Duke and forced himself to push all desires aside. For now.
Wyll and his beautiful wife, Euphemia, greet you with a flurry of excitement and hugs. Their two twin toddlers run around in the entryway, a nursemaid trailing behind them.
Wyll wears a kind, soft smile as he addresses the both of you, “Dinner should be just about ready… shall we make our way there? I hope you two don’t mind. We are having work done in the dining room — my beautiful flower insisted upon remodeling — so dinner will have to be served in the Great Hall.”
As the four of you head towards the larger of the two dining areas in the Duke’s estate, Astarion wraps his arm around your waist and runs his hand along the side of your nearly bursting belly once again. There is a subtle pause at the doors of the Great Hall, and your husband’s eyebrows crinkle in a silent question before you gently press a kiss into his cheek and whisper, “Happy Rebirth Day, my love.”
Today marked one year since Gale successfully cast the Wish Spell. 
The oak doors burst open to reveal the faces of everyone you hold dear, all of them shouting, “Surprise!” in unison. Wyll and Euphemia are laughing with delight as the four of you enter the room. Astarion is obviously shocked and overwhelmed as he takes the scene in, but a toothy smile is plastered across his face nonetheless. The elf could not believe that the significance of the date had slipped his mind, nor could he believe that you all went through such great lengths to plan a spectacle on his behalf. 
Everyone showered your husband with a plethora of well-wishes and congratulations. The food was heavenly, and the silver-haired elf dined to his heart’s content. Just as Astarion loved to watch you both in the mirror, you adored seeing him eat and savor real food. You’d pursued cooking as a new hobby in the past few months, just to watch the delight on his face as he tasted any number of delectable things you placed in front of him.
“Have you thought of any names for the baby?” Karlach asks through a mouthful of food as she continues to tear into the lamb shank in front of her.
You smile knowingly. This topic has piqued everyone’s interest and they all turn their gazes in your direction, “Yes, actually… Astarion picked it out. It works well for a boy or a girl, and I think it’s an excellent choice.”
The elf smiles shyly, that subtle flush of his cheeks and ears crawling across his face as you turn your gaze to him and urge him on, “Go on, my love, and tell them the gorgeous name you picked.”
“I… I decided we should name the baby Gale.” Astarion reveals, his hand immediately moving to graze against your swollen stomach as he meets the flabbergasted expression of the wizard sitting across the table with a round-eyed, nervous gaze, “If… that’s okay by you.”
Gale coughs in surprise, nearly choking on the wine he’d just sipped from a goblet. For a moment, you watch as he blinks away tears. You are beginning to truly believe he might leap across the table and tackle your husband in a hug when he rapidly nods instead.
The wizard’s voice cracks with emotion as he speaks, “Y-yes. Thank you, Astarion. That is such an honor.”
Ten years of friendship between two men that once seemed entirely at odds with one another, honored by a namesake given to a precious babe. Fate was a truly remarkable thing.
“It’s an honor you are quite deserving of, Gale.” You respond, reaching your hand across the table to give the wizard’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “May our child have just as much heart, wit, and skill as their namesake. We will be truly blessed.”
A cake with candles is brought about at the end of the meal and placed in front of Astarion as everyone sings an off-key birthday tune. While your husband always seemed to thrive on being held at the center of attention, you noticed with a bit of amusement that his ears and cheeks were flushed pink as everyone focused their eyes upon him. 
While the others continue to sing, you lean closer to your husband and whisper, “I know we will never surpass the wish you made last time, my Star. But go on and make one anyway.”
Astarion’s gaze roams around the room, taking in all the friends he collected this past decade. Then he turns to you and grins, pausing to etch every bit of this moment into his memory before closing his eyes and blowing the candles out to a cacophony of inebriated cheers and whoops.
The elf wished for the only thing he could: a healthy child and a long life with his little love. Fate had already gifted him with more than he could have imagined for himself back in those dark, dank dungeons he once called home. Astarion found himself in want of nothing but the health and happiness of the woman beside him and the safety of their offspring. 
Though he knew it was another selfish ask, and he’d been blessed far more than he had ever expected, Astarion prayed to the gods that he once never thought would answer to grant him this last wish. And just in case they did not hear him the first time, he would be sure to make the same wish every year, until his very last. 
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melminli · 4 months
Text
Cold Coffee
pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem. reader
summery - you liked working, and someone else liked you working for them.
word count: 2k+
contains: young president coryo, crack, fluff, secretary reader, coryo being lovesick and shy
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You had a routine. A routine that you strictly followed every day and it started with your alarm clock waking you up at 5 o'clock in the morning. The first thing you did was get up and go to the bathroom to wash the sleep off your face, otherwise you couldn't get anything done. After you had finished everything else concerning your hygiene, you continued with your outfit of the day.
You liked to play around a bit when it came to your fashion choices. After all, you were living in the Capitol. Your job still demanded a certain formality and professionalism, which is why you were perhaps not as free in your choice as others, but that wasn't a problem for you. You always managed to find something elegant to wear since you had all kinds of clothing in different colors and fabrics that were perfect for combining with various other items. Whether vests, suit jackets, skirts, trousers or everything all together, it was entirely up to your mood. (Even though combining everything together was something you hadn't done since your school days at the academy.).
Then the last thing left missing was your hair and maybe some make-up, before you could step out of the house with your pre-packed bag. After a 15-minute drive in your car, you would arrive a few minutes early and were able to go about your duties as planned until it was time to leave at around 4 pm (if you were lucky).
You've been doing this every day for three years. Every day. That may sound exhausting (because it is), but you were also kind of happy about it since missing work would just mean that you had more to do on the following one. You rarely got sick, but when you did it was usually nothing serious so you came to work anyway. On the two rare occasions when you were really seriously ill, you were once off work and once you were lucky (or unlucky) that it was at the time of several public holidays. So yes, you haven't missed a single day of work - until today.
Your alarm clock died in the middle of the night.
"...huh - what's happening?" You asked, slightly drowsy, and it felt like you'd been asleep for far too long, a suspicious amount of long. Your eyes glanced at the clock on your wall, and you had to concentrate to keep the image from blurring. "...It's a quarter past seven." You finally realized, before widening your eyes and jumping out of bed. "It's a quarter past seven! I'm going to be late!"
In your stress to get ready quickly, you decided to get dressed first and quickly picked something out before scurrying to the bathroom to get ready. That was your mistake because while being a bit too hectic when brushing your teeth, you were clumsy enough to get toothpaste on your shirt. "No, no, no - ugh. I can't believe this." You whined and hurried so you could change again.
Hair? fine, make-up? Fuck it - okay, just go out and get in the car. At this point, you were already a whole hour late. When you arrived at the place where your car was supposed to be and couldn't see it, you started to panic and it didn't stop when you realized why. It's in the repair shop! Why, does this have to happen to me?!
"Okay, let's calm down for a minute." You said to yourself and took a deep breath of the cold morning air. It was quiet, only the chirping of the birds could be heard, it was still early in the morning. "That's just the way it is now. I'll just let someone know I'll be late and - " You said and took out your phone, only to realize that it was dead. This all was probably due to a power cut in the night, which also explained why your alarm clock wasn't working this morning. " - alright, I won't do that then. It's cool. Everything's cool."
Your day was off to a pretty bad start already. It would take you at least half an hour to get to work with the train, and you'd have to wait another half an hour since the last one left five minutes ago according to your watch. Yes, the morning commute wasn't exactly popular in the Capitol - the people here usually preferred to sleep in.
"You know what? I'm just going to treat myself to my favorite drink in my favorite café. I really can't do this right now." You finally decide and set off a little more relaxed. "I would argue that I don't get paid enough for this, but I actually get paid pretty well." You admitted but didn't care any more than to laugh about it.
Of course, no one would assume that the secretary to the president of Panem would get a bad wage.
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Hm. Coriolanus looked at his watch again. His eyes had been darting there strangely often since this morning. Well, he didn't see you at all today, and normally you would greet him on the way to his office, and he would greet you back. After a while, you would come through the door and ask if he wanted coffee while you were already carrying it to him in your hand. This was followed by a little summary from you about what appointments he had today, who he was meeting and so on - it's not that important, the point is that he hasn't seen you yet and he didn't know why.
He got up from his seat and opened the door of his office to look out, but like before, you weren't sitting in your seat at the reception desk.
He then decided to look for his nearest employee. "Excuse me, Mr. Pox. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. " He announced his presence as he knocked lightly on the open door with his knuckles.
The man immediately stood up slightly nervously in order to appear respectful. He was older than Coriolanus, but he also wasn't the president. "You're not interrupting anything, sir! How can I help you?" He asked, a little confused. Oh no, he never asks me anything personally, I hope it's nothing serious. I'm not in trouble, am I?
Coriolanus reassured him as he subtly asked his question. "Well, I was just wondering where my secretary was. You wouldn't happen to know anything about her whereabouts?" He said, thinking it was a little stupid of him for not wanting to appear conspicuous. She works for me. I have the right to know where she is. This is not in any way inappropriate.
Pox was relieved when it turned out that this wasn't about him, but immediately felt a little guilty because you seemed to be in trouble. You were his nicest colleague, he liked you a lot. But I can't just lie to the president either. He's literally the president! He'll certainly find out if I do. "No, sir. Unfortunately not, she didn't tell me anything." He replied and just watched as the man in front of him hummed absently, which is why he quickly added. "Maybe she's just late?"
If that were the case, you'd already be three hours late. That was not like you, and Coriolanus began to subconsciously worry a little. She would let me know if she was going to be late. He thought to himself until he realized that you had never been late before, so he couldn't be too sure of his theory. Because that was what it was - just a theory. "Hm. All right, thanks for your time, see you then." He said goodbye to Pox and decided to go back to his office.
There wasn't really anything else he could do - well, except maybe call you. He stopped his steps for a moment at the thought. That feels wrong. Usually, you were the one who called him regularly or barged into his office so he didn't really have to. Well, sometimes he wanted to, but he doubted you would appreciate it if he contacted you after your working hours. He sometimes wished that his thoughts of you would end with your departure, but he hadn't really been successful yet, and for god's sake, he didn't know why. Well, I do - but it's complicated. She's my secretary and this isn't a stupid rom com.
He saw you all day. That is enough. It should be enough. It wasn't like he was looking forward to monday or anything since you started working for him - well, he was, but that was because of other things, for sure. It could be because of other things, he could find joy in other things.
"Oh, Mr. Snow. There you are." Your voice surprised him as he opened the door to his own office and was greated with your face in front of his. "I wanted to talk to you, but then you weren't here. I'm sorry I got in without your permission." You apologized sincerely and took a step to the side so he could enter.
"It's all good. You don't need to apologize." Coriolanus said calmly and sat down in his seat, subtly watching you move in front of his desk. "What is it?" He asked, appearing unaffected - as if he hadn't been thinking about you and what you were doing since this morning.
You looked slightly confused. "Well, I'm three hours late for work." You announced, sure that he would have noticed. "I know this can't be excused, and I'll get straight to work to make up for it, I promise. It's just that my car has a few issues and, well..." You assured him and placed a paper cup on his table. "I know I usually bring you coffee, and this is not the expensive one from here, but from my favorite café around the corner, but well..." You started rambling a bit and were a little more talkative than usual, which didn't go unnoticed. "...It also got cold on the way, and I spilled half of it because someone ran into me on the train." You added when you noticed how his gaze shifted to the stain at your side.
"Sounds like you had a pretty exciting morning. It's all right, don't worry, I'll turn a blind eye since it's the first time." Coriolanus replied with his slightly charming smile. You usually told him so little about your personal life that he unconsciously began to appreciate the little things he got to hear from you.
Like no, he didn't want to hear another stupid story about Mr. Aliose and his fucking hamsters. He almost felt sorry for the guys patheticness, maybe he could live a happier life if he put more effort into finding a wife than getting his pet to do a roll. Or from his other employees who tried to entertain him with uninteresting personal stories he didn't care about - because he didn't care about them.
And the one person he did actually want to hear from, kept their personal and work life very separate. He hated that it wasn't the other way around.
You nodded. "You don't even know. I don't expect you to drink this, by the way. As a matter of fact, I'll make you another one right now. It's just that - I worked really hard to get this to you, and it felt wrong to just throw it in the trash in the end." You let that bit out before returning to your professional self. "I just wanted that at least one thing would go right today."
Stay cool, Coriolanus. Don't freak out, and also, stop romanticizing this. "It's all good. I'm honored that you thought of me." He said, hoping he sounded natural.
A smile graced your face. "Of course, Mr. Snow. I'll be right back." You promised him as you stepped out of his office and made your way to the coffee machine.
As soon as the door closed behind you, Coriolanus let out the breath he had been holding. His hand reached for the coffee cup and turned it in his hand only to discover a small note on it. "For my boss and the boss of Panem :)" He read out loud and smiled as his thumb ran over the drawing of the snowflake. He couldn't help but take the little gesture to heart. "That's so sweet."
I should send out a car to pick her up tomorrow - for business reasons, of course.
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damiansgoodgirll · 2 months
Note
 hi, can you please make a story where reader is young like 19 or 20 and everyone loves her and she’s a pretty close friend with basically everyone in the wwe and one day she has a match with like Nia or someone else and she gets injured so bad that everyone around her is worried sick.? maybe she has a closer feeling with the judgement day or Jey but like if you can mention more wrestlers it would be amazing. Thank you so much. I love your writing 
i love this type of requests cause it makes me travel back in time when i was 13 and i used to play wrestling with my best friend (don’t do this at home) and i remember everyone loving me…anyway
sorry for making nia the bad one!
the judgment day x reader (platonic) / jey uso x reader (platonic)
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home is where you belong
you never thought you would find it but you did. the place where you felt safe and loved, the place that you called home.
you’ve been wrestling since you were fifteen and once you got eighteen wwe signed you in. two years later now you were living your dream;
travelling from city to city, having sleepovers with your wrestling friends, gossiping about what people you shipped together, talking nonsense with seth rollins and having becky teasing him, watching and learning new techniques from jey uso, training with the judgment day.
everything was a dream for you.
the fans loved you. even if they weren’t fans about your character, they still liked your persona and your positive energy. you had no enemies, you pretended of course, but you had no enemies at all.
many elders took you under their protective wing and you couldn’t be more grateful.
you we are currently training with rhea as you had a big match against nia and you wanted to be ready. you both already knew that the judgement they were gonna help you win this match because, according to the script they had to ruin this moment for you and for nia, but you didn’t care because you knew how fun it was going to be.
so you were ready to kick her ass.
nia, otherwise, wasn’t as happy as you thought. the idea of losing against some teenager like you made her blood boil. she was more experienced than you so why would you had to win? plus, by getting helped by the judgment day?
she didn’t like the idea but she didn’t tell you.
she had something else in mind.
so you were getting ready, your make up flawless, your hair perfectly posing over your shoulders and a smile that could make happy anyone who met you.
you were so ready.
you heard the “boos” when nia entered the ring and you heard everyone cheering for you when you entered. that’s how it was supposed to be so why did she have an envious look in her eyes?
you pretended it was nothing and you started the match as it was supposed to go.
ten minutes later, the judgment day music echoing through the arena, just like the script said.
rhea distracting nia.
following exactly what the script said.
so what did go wrong?
nia attacked rhea. it wasn’t in the script but rhea knew how to handle situations like that.
you could tell by damian’s look that this wasn’t supposed to happen but you took it as an opportunity to distract nia and make your final move, move that made you win that match.
earlier on the schedule but still, you had your win.
“someone beat your ass…” rhea screamed into the microphone, unleashing mixed reactions through the crowd. everyone cheering for you because of your win, not everyone was happy with the way you won but still, you better than nia.
that set her off.
she didn’t like the idea of a teenager beating her but she hated even more the way the crowd laughed at her face, making her seem weak, not strong enough.
the judgment day were leaving the arena, just like the script told them to do after your victory, so what didn’t go as planned?
you were still in the ring, fans clapping for you, the referee still held your hand high and as you were about the leave, nia hit you behind your back.
this wasn’t prepared.
you fell to your knees and before you could do something she dragged you through your hair into the middle of the ring.
“nia?” you said almost too terrified.
the referee tried to get into the two of you but nia pushed her away, hurting her.
“who do you think you are?” she said hoovering you with her body.
“nia what?” you weren’t understanding. why was she doing that? she was your friend, she wasn’t supposed to hurt you.
“don’t act so dumb…” she whispered before attacking you.
for real this time.
nothing prepared.
she was really hurting you. your face first, then your stomach, she kept hurting you, punching you over and over until you couldn’t feel your body anymore.
your head and nose were bleeding.
referees weren’t able to stop her either.
rhea and damian were the first one to intervene when they saw that the referee couldn’t stop her.
rhea attacking her, the referees, trying to get between the two of them, so damian so that as an opportunity to shield you with his body. he could handle nia attacking him.
“damian?” you almost cried.
“hey…shh it’s okay, i got you” he said, slowly moving your hair out of your face and it was in that moment that he saw your bleeding face.
“dam…it hurts” you said clenching your stomach. he felt his heart breaking. the way you were clenching your chest, the way your hands trembled a little, your bleeding face and your eyes full of tears.
he was mad. furious.
“i know…ssshhh…we will take care of you i promise” he whispered.
the crowd was cheering, assuming everything was scripted, but there was an uncomfortable silence going behind the scenes.
everyone watching what was happening in horror.
becky had tears in her eyes and seth was trying to keep her and himself calm because he was mad. cody was speechless. jey ran out of his locker room just to be stopped by the security. dom and finn paralysed in their steps as they were watching everything happening right before their eyes.
that’s what it went wrong.
thankfully, rhea and referees were able to drag nia away from the ring. she knew she went too far but her pride was something she wasn’t willing to give up.
damian was still in the ring with you as medical staff came and assisted you.
you already fell unconscious when damian lifted you up in his arms and dragged you down onto the stretcher waiting for you backstage.
you were rushed to the hospital and honestly no one felt like continuing the show but they had to. jey was next but all he wanted to do was rush to the hospital and stay by your side.
you didn’t even realised that when you woke up you weren’t in some hotel room but you were in a hospital bed. your head still pounding when you remembered what happened.
the doctor told you that you had a few broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder,a broken wrist, a sprained ankle and a heavy concussion. not to count all the bruising and red spots forming all over your body.
then what you didn’t want to hear : no wrestling for at least four months.
your body needed to rest and heal first.
you were trying to hold in all the tears but eventually let them out when the doctor left your room. you were supposed to have your first main event at wrestlemania and now that dream was gone.
while still crying a soft knock echoed through the room.
damian first, then rhea with the rest of the judgment day.
“hey…” she whispered but her heart broke when she saw the tears in your eyes “why are you crying pretty girl?” she asked sitting on the chair next to your bed, followed by the boys who sat on the small couch right beside the window.
“bye bye wrestlemania…” you said with a broken voice.
everyone knew how much you’ve been waiting and wanting that moment.
“i’m so sorry y/n…” she said softly.
“its just it’s not fair…” you whispered “why did she do that? i thought she was my friend…i would have never done that to her rhea…never”
“i know love…because you know your value, you’re kind and sweet and loving and unfortunately you’ve met someone who thought about her ego and her ego only…” she said smiling sadly at you.
“what matters now is that you rest and take your time to heal” damian joined the conversation “you scared everyone back there…” he said making you smile a little.
“i didn’t mean to…”
“we know…or you could tell them that yourself” finn joked.
“what?” you whispered.
“everyone’s here…jey almost punched the doctor when they wouldn’t let him see you” dom laughed “becky is here with seth, cody and shayna are here too…girl you even scared gunther”
“i don’t believe it…” you laughed.
“we can make you believe that” jey said entering the room with a beautiful bouquet of red roses. everyone followed him too.
you were relieved in seeing so many people caring for you in a way not even your friends cared about. you felt loved and appreciated.
you’ve spent the next hour talking nonsense with them all and you almost forgot about the wrestling problem thing.
almost.
when everyone left for your check up with the doctor, the only one who stayed was jey.
he was the only one who noticed the shift in your mood and he knew what was like staying away from what you love do the most, so if you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was willing to do that, if you needed a friendly advice, he was willing to do that too.
“care to tell me what’s on your mind sweetheart?” he asked when the doctor left.
“i’m going to miss all of these…four months of not seeing you all days, no wrestling, no wrestlemania and probably no summerslam too…it’s just, i feel useless and empty not doing what i love jey” you confessed.
“you’re not useless at all, and it’s normal to feel nostalgic right now but it’ll pass and i promise you that you’ll be on your feet for when summerslam comes! i promise you” he said sitting next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder - the healthy one - “i wish i could have done something to stop her but i was the useless one…i hated seeing you in so much pain…she lost her mind and finally she lost her job too”
“what?” you whispered.
“yup! got fired…you know you could sue her right?” jey asked.
“i would never do that…”
“i know…you’re too kind for that…what she did was wrong and completely unacceptable but i’m glad you’re here…” he said softly kissing your head.
“ill be here for a long long time…this is my home after all” you smiled, making jey laugh too.
and it was in that moment that you truly realised how important those weird people were for you, and how important you were for them.
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ddejavvu · 10 months
Note
I haven’t seen anyone write ghost!reader helping the BAU solve her own case…like knocking things over to get their attention or play eerie songs to give hints😭
THIS IS SUCH A COOL IDEA??
--
For FBI specialists, these guys suck. They've spent 20 minutes looking through your bedroom, and not once have they gone through the shoes in your closet, where one is tucked carefully away with a blood-stained heel. You'd driven it into your killer's eye just before he'd stuck his own weapon into your stomach, and you'd watched him put it neatly away in its place as you bled out.
"Y'know, I think we are looking at victims of opportunity," A tall, lanky one muses, hair in messy waves down to his shoulders as his slender hands hold your journal that you're not too happy he's reading. "There's nothing in here that indicates any sort of high-risk lifestyle, or anything that connects Y/N to the other victims. I think she just had her window open, and that was enough."
"I think you're right, Reid. This doesn't exactly look 'high-risk' to me." Another speaks, the dark tone of his skin a stark contrast against the white button-up he's holding out from your closet.
"But there's still something missing," Reid hums, peering confusedly around the room, "I mean, the other victims lived miles away. So if these really are opportunity kills, this guy's driving across the country and perusing neighborhoods to kill? That's not very probable."
"No. There's something else," The bigger one agrees, kneeling by the stain of your blood against the carpet. You watch on from the corner of the room, waiting for him to tuck his fingers just beneath the edge of the bed and withdraw the token that had fallen there when your killer had flailed about in the loss of his eye.
He doesn't.
You groan with frustration, but neither of them hear it. You're tired of waiting, tired of watching, tired of hoping they crack the case. You lunge for the bed, sending a breeze against the bottom of the comforter and rippling it so that the coin is visible for a split second.
The bulky agent's eyes widen slightly at the unexplainable draft, his thick brows dipping in concern. But he's seen the shiny coin, and he lets out a tsk as he examines it.
"Morgan? What's wrong?" Reid glances over at him, "Is that-?"
"A train token," Morgan drawls, "'Guess we know how this guy's getting around."
"Where did you find that?"
"It was under the bed." Morgan recalls, "It was... weird. There was this little breeze, like- like someone moved the comforter. That's the only reason I saw it. Would've missed it otherwise."
Reid's eyebrows arch curiously, then a smirk slides over his lips, "Maybe it was a ghost."
"There's no such thing as ghosts, pretty boy." Morgan scoffs, standing up straight with the token in hand, "Let's go, we've gotta deliver the profile- ah!"
Before they can walk out the door, you grab the shoe from your closet, flinging it at Morgan's ankle in retaliation for his rather rude comment. He jumps nearly a foot in the air, looking down at your bloody heel in terror.
"That just- that just hit me! It flew out of the closet, and- no, man, I'm not doing this. Fuck- fuck this, I'm going back to the car."
"It's bloody," Reid crouches to examine the shoe, warily glancing at the closet it had flown from, "Go ahead, Morgan, I'll just be a second."
"That is why white people die in horror movies," Morgan spits, already beelining for the front door, "I don't fuck with ghosts!"
When he's gone, Reid is silent. He snaps pictures of the heel, only touching the mess after it's been sufficiently recorded. There's some obscene mush that rubs off onto his finger and he grimaces, inspecting the remains.
"It's an eye," He murmurs to himself, but you hear it from where you're crouched right beside him. He has a pretty face, Morgan wasn't lying. He peers curiously once more at the closet, and you slide yourself into his line of vision as if he can see you. It's refreshing to have someone look at you again, even if they don't know they are.
Reid stands, taking your heel with him. He digs a plastic bag out of his pocket and slides the heel inside, gloves stained the same unsettling color. He starts for the door, finished with his investigation, but he lingers just before he can exit your bedroom. You're standing just behind him, intent on walking the man out and watching him drive away.
He turns back, gaze aimed towards the closet that's no longer occupied by your supernatural throwing arm.
"Thank you," He speaks, "I believe you're real. And I hope this- uh, finishes your business here. I hope you get to rest soon."
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unorthodoxfaithxx · 20 days
Text
The Love Language of Flowers (Yandere OP Shanks/Reader)
I finally remembered what I had forgotten to do once I opened this account -- and that was to share this fanfiction I had wrote on AO3 with you all!
Smut; Yandere ; AFAB
Synopsis :
You were a sickly floral shop owner in an otherwise dreary island. Despite your flowers bringing joy to the island, the villagers never welcomed you with open arms, only accepting you for your coin and products.
When Shanks and his crew come around, the treatment gets worse.
Shanks. He was so strong, stronger than you could ever be. And part of you hoped you could stay shielded under him forever. You always felt like no harm could come to you when he was around. That with him, everything would be okay.
If only you knew at the time what he was capable of.
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Chapter 1: Hyacinth - Jealousy
“Come again!” You said cheerfully at the departing guest.
“Yeah, yeah…” The man grumbled as he walked out of your store, slamming the door shut behind him.
You glanced down at your transaction book and sighed, leaning back only to gasp as you nearly knocked over your finest floral vase.
“Oh, dear,” You said breathlessly, stabilizing the wobbly porcelain as fast as you could. With a quick sigh of relief, you shook your head, chastising yourself mentally.
“Sorry, lillies. I didn’t do that on purpose, I swear.”
The flowers in the vase didn’t respond, but you knew they wouldn’t. Being ostracized from the village had left you lonely and turning to flowers for conversation.
They were never known for their hospitality, —you were aware of this when you moved to the island three years ago to find a cure for your illness— but the villagers were even more hostile ever since you had befriended a certain pirate captain and his crew.
Dangerous , a senior woman on the island had warned you, Pirates are no good, heartless ruffians that take and take ‘til there’s nothing left!
But if that were the case, then why were they so nice to you? In the year that you had known them, they graced you with more kindness and hospitality than all of the villagers had ever offered, combined. It always made you happy to see them, and as your relationships deepened, it was harder to watch them go.
Your hand subconsciously moved to touch the bandage at your neck. If only the flowers that remedied your illness were able to grow elsewhere besides the island. Maybe then you could travel, move somewhere far away. But until then, you were content with living your life the way you did.
Your pride and joy was your flower shop. Using the only money you had left from your late father’s inheritance, you opened up your store in hopes of sharing the joy of flowers with everyone around you. The villagers might have disliked you for being an outsider, but they loved your products. So they kept coming back and you were able to keep food on the table.
Today was proving to be a slow day, though. With no orders for floral arrangements, plants, or vases, you found yourself eying your transaction logs wearily again.
The sound of your door chimes ringing quickly caught your attention, and you hopped off from your stool to greet your guest properly.
“Welcome to Floral Feel—-Oh, hi, Red!” Your smile widened into something genuine as a tall, red-haired man approached your counter.
“And hello to you too, Sunshine.” Your heart did double flips at the nickname. You’re the one who started the whole charade, but you couldn’t help but feel funny every time he called you that.
“How’s your day been, Shanks?”
“It’s been alright. My men and I are preparing to make way for the sea next week, so I’ve been busy with preparations.”
“Aw, leaving so soon? Must have had enough of this dreary place, eh?”
“I’d agree, but a certain pocket of sunshine has been making it worthwhile,” He made a show of winking, and you giggled at the gesture.
“Well, I’m glad to be of service. Here!” You handed him a clipped rose from a nearby vase. He took it and put it up to his face, eyes closed, inhaling deeply its scent.
“Smells nice,” He spoke, and when he opened his he was greeted with your stunned face.
“What, something on my face?” He joked.
You shook your head.
“Nothing like that,” you spoke with a touch of admiration in your voice, “I always thought flowers brought beauty out of a person, but with you, you simply make the flowers more beautiful.”
Your words had him stunned, but he recovered within seconds.
“You are a true Casanova, you know that?” He chuckled, breaking the rose off its long stem. He leaned over to tuck the flower behind your ear.
“And I can say the same to you, you make that rose look ravishing ,” He whispered close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
“Please don’t eat the flowers,” You chuckled nervously.
“Nah, there’s something else I want to eat,” Combined with the intense look he gave you, his words had you turning pink in the cheeks.
“Oh my god, Shanks,” You said with your hands covering your face.
He laughed a hearty laugh, clearly pleased with your reaction.
“Oh, but I’m not joking, Love .”
Love.
The two of you had started dating only recently, and you still couldn’t wrap it around your head that you two were together now. Shanks had always been a tease, but ever since the two of you became official, it’s been absolute mayhem for your heart.
“ Please, Shanks ,” You spoke through your hands. Your ears were red, a color he said he loved to see on you.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Sorry for teasing you, Sunshine,” He patted your head, “But I digress, I was wondering if you were up to eating at the local tavern with my crew and I tonight. My treat.”
“Aw, although that’s sweet of you, Red, I have to decline,” You shut the proposition down without hesitation. “I’m not one to drink, and…I’m not welcome there.”
His smile dropped at that. “Like they refuse to serve you, or you just don’t feel welcome?”
You waved your hands. “Oh, no, no! Nothing like that. I just don’t feel welcome. The venom is there, and it makes me feel uncomfortable. It’s obvious I’m not wanted in the village.”
He sighed. “You know, I can take care of that if you’d like.”
“Nuh-uh,” you waved a finger pointedly at him, “You are not threatening the villagers.”
He’d cross his arms if he could. “And who said I would be threatening them?”
You gave him a look.
“Okay, okay, no threatening. Can I at least get you take-out for dinner?”
That perked you up, “Sure! I’m not sure what they have, but get me anything you think I’d like, please?”
“Aye-aye, Captain.” He winked again, and you giggled at his words.
“Well, I have to check on the boys. I’ll leave you to your own devices, yeah?”
“Okie dokie. I’ll see you tonight!” You smiled brightly and waved him goodbye.
He smiled down at you with love in his eyes, and you felt your cheeks flush again.
A quick peck on the lips left you frozen with your mouth hung open. He laughed as he walked out, giving you a wave in return.
Once you heard the door’s jingle, you shut your mouth and screamed into your hands.
———————————
A few days passed uneventfully. Shanks stopped by your shop every now and then for a chat, on a rare occasion coming with his right-hand man or other crew mates. Today was one of those days.
“So you’re the little lady that’s got our captain smitten, huh?” The mocha skinned man said. He introduced himself as Yassop, throwing you a wink.
“That would be I! Although he’s got me smitten too. Probably even more so.”
Yassop shook his head at that. “No way. If only you knew how much we’ve had to hear Shanks ramble on about the ‘pretty lady in the flower shop’. It’s been driving us crazy! Our ship is full of flowers now, you know.”
You turned to Shanks. “I was wondering what you were doing with all those flowers! You shouldn’t feel obligated to purchase something every time you stop by, you know. “
“Eh, I’m just supporting my lady’s business.”
“Well, your lady is honored.” You offered a mock bow.
With your head dipped down, Yasopp took notice of the crystal flowers displayed behind you. Beautifully crafted, each flower was hand blown, delicately carved out of stained glass.
“Those don’t look like the kind of flowers you usually sell, miss. They look like they cost a fortune. How much for those?”
“Oh, these?” You turned around to stare at them yourself, touching a glass leaf gently. “They’re not for sale, I’m afraid. These were actually a gift from the Whitebeard crew when I first moved into the island. You probably know who they are, yeah? Well one of the boys had a thing for me and tried to propose to me with these!” You laughed briefly, “Can you believe that? I of course said no, but he let me keep the gift anyways. He said it was specially made for me and would just be thrown away otherwise.”
You were too busy admiring the crystal flowers that you didn’t see the face Shanks made. Yasopp saw him clench his fists, but had no intention of bringing it up.
“That’s… nice ,” Shanks forced out.
You turned and teased, “What, jealous? I can assure you that my heart belongs to one person and one person only.”
You took a crystal poppy out of the vase and handed it to him, “That person is you, Shanks. Another beautiful flower for an even more beautiful man.”
“Damn, Shanks, you didn’t tell me that your girl was such a Casanova. Got any compliments for me, pretty lady?”
“I have no problem admiring beauty when I see it. You sir, have gorgeous hair.”
“I-“ Yasopp was taken aback, “No one recognizes the care that goes into my hair, so thank you! Say,” He started, batting his eyes frivolously, “Are you single?”
That got a laugh out of you both.
The velvet haired man elbowed his crew mate. “Hey, no flirting in front of the captain, it’s rude. And don’t steal my girlfriend, jackass.”
You giggled at that, although Yasopp could recognize through years of knowing the man that Shanks wasn’t joking.
He threw his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay, I won’t play anymore.” He rubbed the arm Shanks had hit.
“I’m actually here with Shanks today ‘cause he told me you had dried flowers for teas. I wanted to stock up. We won’t be back for a while, and I get tired of booze every night.”
You beamed. Tea was one of your best sellers. “Oh, of course!” Shanks tucked the crystal flower in his waist sash, and you led the two to a section of your store with pouches of dried petals and flower buds. “Go ahead and open and smell them if you’d like. And I’ll throw in a bag for free, on the house.”
“Appreciated, boss lady!”
You felt a strong arm snake around your waste, and you leaned into Shanks’s torso. “Thanks, Sunshine,” He said softly while Yasopp was busy smelling the roses, literally.
“It’s no problem, I want to be good to the people who’re good to you, Red.”
Shanks sighed. “Your earnestness is gonna be the death of me, Love. I’m already holding back …” He murmured that last part under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Eh, don’t worry about it.”
So worry about it you did not. You spent the remaining half hour talking to the two men and explaining what each tea was and how to best brew them. Yasopp ended up purchasing your whole stock of chamomile and dandelion teas, and you threw in a bag of hibiscus tea for free.
The two ended up leaving after their purchases to reorganize dry storage on the ship.
“Hey, I was joking about your girlfriend earlier,” Yasopp brought up while walking back to the dock.
“Pshh, I know. No hard feelings, yeah?”
Yasopp gave him a side eye. He knew how Shanks could get around the things he loved. “…No hard feelings. I’m going ta make way first, dying to try this hibiscus tea.”
“Go ahead, I got some more errands to run before heading back on.” Yasopp didn’t question it, nodding as he slung the large sack of tea pouches over his shoulder.
When he was out of sight, Shanks went into an empty alleyway, using Haki to make sure no one was in the vicinity, especially not you.
He pulled the crystal poppy you gave him out of his waistband, turning it over in his hand. It really was fine craftsmanship. Someone spent a lot of thought and time into making this gift for you. Beautiful, really. 
He stretched his hand out, and dropped the flower onto the concrete. His heel crushed the glass with a loud, satisfying crack .
Chapter 2: Marigold - Passion
Shanks was a simple man. Drink a lot, sleep a lot, sail a lot, work a lot. There wasn’t much that could phase him, even if the most horrific of insults or treatment was thrown his way. As one of the strongest men of the sea, it seldom happened anyways.
But when his loved ones were treated maliciously, the whole script would flip. He’d get angry, belligerent even, and be ready to fight to the death to safeguard those he cared about. The failure to save his childhood captain left a scar in his heart, only fueling his desire to protect.
That’s why when he saw you on the street corner, covered in food, dirt and sand (and what that blood? Fuck that.) just sitting there with your items scattered on the ground, he was seeing red.
“What do you kids think you’re doing?” He growled with deadliest, Haki infused glare he could muster without making anyone in the vicinity faint.
Shanks was not one to hurt children. But seeing you sit there pathetically with tears in your eyes, he so badly wanted to break a bone or two and teach a few life-altering lessons to those hell-spawn.
They were smart at least, because they obviously got the memo and ran off for their lives, shrieking pathetically with their tails tucked between their legs.
“Don’t you ever try this again!” He shouted at them, sighing as he watched them leave for the hills. Once he knew they were no longer an immediate problem he turned all his attention to you.
His beautiful flower, all crumpled and stained with tears. He wanted to shake your shoulders and yell, ‘How could you let this happen to you?’ but knew you would never fight back against children, innocent or not.
“Oh, my love, you okay?” He muttered, kneeling down to meet eye level with you. “What happened?”
It was obvious what happened. Some demon-spawn decided to torment the nicest person in the village, knowing she wouldn’t retaliate. If he could just lay his hands on them, they’d be dead. DEA—
“I was walking back home with groceries when the kids must have thought it’d be funny to play a prank on me. They had me circled and started throwing rocks and rotten food at me. I’m fine now, though,” You smiled weakly, wiping your tears with a clean sleeve, “Thanks for coming to my rescue. Give me a hand?”
He grabbed your delicate hand and helped you up. You dusted yourself off and sighed, making way to pick up the groceries that had all but scattered across the dirt path. He mimicked your actions and before long, your groceries were back in your crumpled brown bag, although beat up and dirty.
You were too nice for your own good. Because even now you didn’t show anger against those children or try to get Shanks, the strongest man in the village at the moment, to do anything about it.
When he asked you why, you responded, “Because knowing the village, it was the adults who put them up to this. In fact I recognized two of those kids, and they usually come into the shop just to visit and give me flowers. I pity them all, knowing they’ll grow up to be the same as their parents, with hatred and distrust in their hearts. One of them looked like they were four years old, Shanks, four. How could I beat up a toddler, let alone get you to do it for me?”
Too nice indeed. Because to be honest (and hopefully you’d never find this out), Shanks was fully prepared to dunk a kid in a trash can and shut the lid if you just asked.
“In any case, I’m just glad you’re okay. Are you going back to the shop?” He asked.
You paused to think about it. “…No. I don’t really feel up to running the store right now.”
“I don’t blame you.” You seemed so sad. Shanks felt his heart twist painfully to see your usually bright self so demure, and not in the good way. He would do anything to get you to smile again.
An idea came to him. “Say, how about I give you a tour of the Red Force? You haven’t been on it yet, right?”
That seemed to perk you right up. “Oh wow, really? I’d love that! I’m surprised you haven’t offered sooner, to be honest. I’ve been dying to see your ship, just didn’t want to impose.”
You looked down at yourself sheepishly.
“Uh, can I go home and get changed first? I’m not exactly in the best condition for an outing right now.”
“Of course,” He stepped closer to you, “I don’t mind if you get changed. Although I’d like if you had nothing to change with at all.” He ended that with a wink, smirking as he saw you glow bright red.
“Oh my god, Shanks!” You jumped to cover his mouth looking around to see if anyone else heard that, “ We’re in public! ”
He moved your hands out of the way, grinning like a madman. “Oho. So you wouldn’t mind if it was in private, yeah?”
You were crimson at this point, and Shanks loved every second of it. By Davey Jones,  you were so cute. Your response though, had his head going into overdrive.
“I…” You fidgeted shyly, “I mean…. not really ,” You muttered that last part, and it took Shanks everything in him not to take you home and bed you right then and there.
He wanted to touch you, and bad.
“Getting bold, are we?” He bent over to say lowly against your ear.
“I mean—woah!” He had scooped you up in one arm, impressively. “Shanks, put me down! You’ll get your clothes dirty.”
“No can do. I saw the way you were avoiding putting pressure on your left leg. You hurt your ankle, didn’t ya?”
You looked away embarrassed and sighed. “Yes,” you mumbled, “But I can still walk!”
“Would you rather this, or me beat up those kids?”
“Ugh. This.”
“Then let me do this for you, yeah? It’s the least I can do for my pocket of sunshine.”
You smiled at the nickname and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek.
Again, it took everything in him not to bed you right then and there.
—————————-
You had a blast getting to see the ship. It was big up close, but even bigger inside. You got to meet the rest of the crew, and was pleased to see Yasopp drinking one of your signature teas. He offered the two of you some, and the three of you both shared a cup for a brief but enjoyable moment.
By the time Shanks’s impromptu tour was over, the sun was lowering into a nice, warm sunset.
Shanks had walked you all the way home like the handsome gentleman he was. He always looked at you with such fierce passion that you could melt under his stare. Today, it was even more apparent, and you had trouble making eye contact with him.
When you finally had the courage to not look down at your feet though, you noticed he was staring at you with such a serious expression that you thought something was wrong.
“Thanks for everything today, Shanks. Is there something bothering you? You look like you got something on your mind.”
He looked at you for a moment, silent. His large hands clasped over yours with a gentle squeeze.
“…Come with me, sunshine. I can take you far, far away from these people and keep you safe.”
You seemed to hesitate, something he noticed. But you simply looked at him with sad eyes and shook your head no.
“You know I can’t, Red. I can’t leave my shop. And look,” You pointed at your bandaged neck, “Can’t exactly leave when the only known medicine for my condition is on this island, can’t I?”
“Then we’ll get you a doctor. We can find someone in the New World to heal you, or at least find a way to keep those flowers that you need alive in soil not from this island,” He was pleading with you, and your heart broke at the sound.
“But you don’t know that for sure. And I don’t want to be a burden on the crew when I’m already as fragile as I am.”
Silence.
“I’m…I’m sorry.” You looked down at your feet.
The man remained unmoving from his position. A dark shadow covered his face.
“No.”
He gripped your forearms. Strong enough that you couldn’t budge, but not enough to hurt you.
“You don’t understand, Love. I can take care of you. In more ways than one.”
“No,” he muttered, and it felt like it was to himself, “No. I am not leaving you behind. Not when you’re right here and suffering, when I can do something. Not when I need you.”
He leaned in, staring deep into your eyes.
“And I know you need me too. Don’t you?”
The way he stared at you, with loving, worried eyes made your heart melt. Eyes that were desperate to keep you. Tears prickled your eyes as you smiled weakly.
“You jerk. You already know the answer to that.”
He chuckled softly. “I know. But I want to hear you say it.”
“I need you, Red.”
No reaction.
You sighed. “I need you, Shanks.”
He wrapped you tightly in his embrace, enveloping your body with his like a strong cocoon shielding you from the outside world.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, soaking in eachother’s warmth. Part of you was tempted to invite him, beg him to stay.
Eventually the two of you parted ways, him stopping at your door and giving you a kiss goodnight. You smiled as he walked away with a wave, evening sun illuminating his crimson hair.
You closed the door and prepared for bed.
Later that night, your thoughts roamed to your beloved pirate captain.
He was so strong, stronger than you could ever be. And part of you hoped you could stay shielded under him forever. You always felt like no harm could come to you when he was around. That with him, everything would be okay.
If only you knew at the time what he was capable of.
—————————-
Shanks laid in his bed and pondered ways to keep you with him. He was leaving soon, and he knew you had too many attachments to this island to persuade you to leave with him and the crew.
And like a match being struck, an incongruous idea formed in his head. One he knew you’d never forgive him for if you found out. Hell, you’d probably hate him for the rest of your life.
It was simple, really. Get rid of your attachments. That way, the only thing you’d be attached to was him. In a way, he was doing you more than one favor. The villagers treated you like shit, and he could make sure your life was far happier than what it was now. No one would dare mistreat you ever again.
Yeah. It was a good idea. An idea so good he immediately hopped off his bed, and got to work. He checked the clock in his quarters.
Half past midnight. Good. That means no one would be around to see what he did. He carefully slipped out of the ship, watchful as to not wake any of his crew members or catch the attention of Beckman, who was on watch duty that night. In his hand was a large canister of kerosene.
Once he reached his destination, he looked up at the delicate sign you had crafted.
Floral Feelings .
Feelings, huh? You could blame feelings for what was to come. He had such intense feelings for you that he’d do anything, anything to get you to stay by his side.
Shanks was a simple man. Drink a lot, sleep a lot, sail a lot, work a lot. And when his loved ones were hurt, do everything in his power to remedy the problem. Even if it meant hurting in the beginning.
Breaking into the building, he splashed oil onto the floor, on the counters, on the flowers, and the walls. He noticed those damned crystal flowers and knocked the entire vase onto the floor, satisfied with the loud crash that resonated in the building.
Once he was satisfied with his work, he stepped outside, carefully maintaining distance from the small structure. Pulling a match from his waistband, he lit it, and threw it into the oil covered doors with a simple flick.
Chapter 3: Morning Glory - Obsession
The village officers say it happened in the dead of night.
No one heard it happen, and the culprit left no traces that’d help with any investigation. The best thing they could do was write it off as an accident, and hope your insurance would reimburse you for most of the damages.
They questioned you for over an hour, filling their books with useless information that’d do nothing to help find the culprit. They had even considered you to be a suspect, but the fierce look in your eyes and a seething glare had them scratching that off the book as soon as the suggestion came. When they left, you were all alone.
You just stared, eyeing the rubble that was left of your store.
Your pride and joy was reduced to nothing but ash.
What’s worse is you knew one of the villagers did it. But who? Everyone in this blasted town had something against you. Was it Marnie, the mother of three that blamed you for throwing her decor shop out of business? Or Riley, the man who was convinced you were a witch? Maybe even Lucina, who you fired after finding out she was deliberately poisoning your plants a week into work.
It could even be one of the teenagers that seemed to hate your guts for no reason. They would enjoy a prank like this. You wouldn’t be surprised.
You held yourself in a weak attempt at comfort. What you really needed was Shanks. You couldn’t handle this place anymore.
No, you wanted to leave .
As you trudged your way to the Red Force, the mocking marmalade sky reminded you of the flames that must have engulfed your shop in the night. Tears fell down your face as you thought of years of hard work and memories — lost to the wind, just like that.
By the time you made it to the dock, Yassop was there, ready to make his way to your shop. He didn’t question your teary eyed expression or soot stained dress. Word must have spread quick, because he offered his condolences and silently lead you to Shanks’s quarters. When you arrived at the door, he gave you a pat on the back and left you to your own devices.
—————————————-
Aboard the Red Force, all was quiet. It was later into the evening, and supper was served not too long ago. The captain of the Red-Hair pirates was sitting at his desk, eyeing the clock every other moment, waiting for your appearance. According to Beckman the villagers were gossiping up a storm about the fire since this morning. There was no way you haven’t gone to see your shop yet. Knowing you, you’d come around when you were ready to talk, but he worried about leaving you alone at such a vulnerable time. Maybe he should seek you out. Why haven’t you come to him yet?
Shanks sighed, continuing to go over logs until a gentle rapt at the door caught his attention. It couldn’t have been his noisy men, who had a tendency to barge in unannounced. Who the hell was bothering him at this hour?
“Who is it?” He inquired.
“…Shanks? It’s me.” A muffled voice muttered through the door.
“Sunshine??” He quickly got up from his desk, pulling his things back into their respective drawers.
Shuffling to the door, he was greeted by none other than you, your beautiful face stained and red with tears.
“Oh no, Sunshine. Come here.” He quickly wrapped you in a warm embrace.
“My shop…it’s all gone, Shanks,” you sobbed, “They burned it all down.”
“Yasopp just told me earlier. Believe me, I was going to come see you as soon as I heard the news. I just had to wrap things up so we could depart soon.”
“Don’t go…” You sniffled weakly against his chest.
“I’m not going anywhere, Love. Least not yet.” He reassured you.
You poor thing. All teary eyed and heartbroken. It hurt to see you like this. He may have been the reason for it, but your pained expression still angered him to see. What a hypocrite he was, but if anyone else had caused it they’d be dead in a heartbeat.
“You wanna sit down?”
You shook your head no, sniffling.
“Well we can’t stand here forever. Here, come in and si—“
“Shanks…” You interrupted meekly, pulling at his shirt, “What am I supposed to do now?”
He held you tighter. “One step at a time, Love. We can figure this out one step at a time.”
“I’ve tried so hard to be accepted by these people. But what have I got to show for it? Nothing but food and rocks thrown at me, and the burning of my most prized possession. It’s all just hideous.”
You blinked up at him, “I…I just want to stop thinking for a moment. Please help me forget, Shanks.”
“Sure, just come in so we can sit and chat about something else.”
You looked away, as if pondering the proposition for a moment.
The man stopped breathing when he felt you pull his shirt collar towards yourself, kissing him right on the lips. To his chagrin, you parted after a minute, trailing kisses down his neck.
“I’d rather do something else…”
Oh . Well if that’s how you wanted to forget, he could absolutely do that.
“Love, are you sure?” He still wanted to be a gentleman, giving you another way out before he locked you in . Because once he had you, he wasn’t going to let you go.
You nodded.
Gingerly, as if afraid to break you, his hand trailed down from your back to your hips, and he leaned forward to gently caress your mouth with his tongue. The first kiss was soft, with you reaching to wrap your arms over his neck. Your arms tightened, you pressing your tongue back against his to fight your way in. He relented easily, letting you dominate. His body was tingling when he felt your tongue trail inside his mouth.
When the two of you parted lips, you were panting heavily. You looked so good right then, cheeks pink with puffy red lips.
“C’mere,” Shanks ushered. Once you two were both inside, he shut the door with a heavy bang , making sure to lock the door behind him.
As soon as that door was shut, he pushed your sniveling form onto his bed, crawling over you to meet your eyes. The bed creaked under his weight.
“Oh, you poor thing. I’ll make sure you forget everything, sweetheart. Just trust me.” He wiped a tear from your eye.
You reached out for him, and his heart ached.
Without much effort, he lifted your dress off your head. It took every fiber of restraint in his being not to just tear your clothes off.
“Oh, you’re so beautiful.”
He stared down at your bare chest, your delicate mounds rising and lowering quickly with excitement.
“You’re far more beautiful,” You said with a gentle smile. You began to pet his hair and he almost growled. “Please,” you pleaded, “Just take me.”
“Fuck. You have no idea how long I’ve been holding myself back. I’ve been so scared that I’d scare you away or break you. You’re absolutely perfect.”
You giggled softly. “I’m stronger than I look, Shanks. I can handle whatever you throw at me.”
His eyes raked over your pretty form hungrily. He was going to consume you, and he had your permission to do it. Life couldn’t get any better than this.
You shook under his predatory gaze, looking away abashedly.
“Aw, come on now. Look at me. I wanna see your gorgeous eyes.”
You slowly moved back to look at him, enamored by those heavily-lidded eyes gazing upon you with such passion.
He made quick work with your undergarments. Before you knew it, your undies and bra were on the other side of the room, his own pants following after.
“May I?” He asked, leaning close to your face.
You nodded again.
Using his hand to lean atop you, his mouth met one of your hardened nipples, tongue rolling around in a circle.
You gasped at the sensation, lowly moaning as he suckled on your breast.
You mewled, and oh, how he’d love to hear that sound every day. At this point, he wished he still had his other arm so he could touch you all over. He’d have to make due. His knee moved up to your crotch, and you whined at the pleasure of it pressing against you.
He detached from your nipple with a loud pop . “Didja like that, baby?”
You nodded shyly, bringing your hands to your face in a cute attempt to cover your blushing cheeks.
“What’s the matter, Sunshine? I said I wanted to look at ya.”
“It’s just—I’m only now realizing that I asked for this, but uh, I’m inexperienced. I haven’t done this in a long, long time,” Your admitted, voice trailing off into a quiet mumble, “…this is embarrassing. And it doesn’t help that you’re really attractive.” You patted your cheeks like you wanted to wake yourself up.
He chuckled softly at that. You were so . Fucking . Endearing . “I’ll take care of you, Love. Just gotta relax for me, yeah? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You look stunning.”
“And look,” You squeaked when he kneeled back to rub your sex with his large hand, shortly before lifting it up and splaying his fingers out to display your slick coating his fingers, “You’re already doing so good right now. All nice and wet for me.”
“I-I—-hnggggg,” You bemoaned, hand reaching to cover your face again before Shanks caught it.
“Ah-ah-ah. Keep doing that and I’ll have to tie you to the bed post. Or would ya like that, eh?”
You were a blushing, stuttering mess at this point, both aroused and mortified like there was no tomorrow.
“I….maybe? I dunno, Shanks.”
Oh fuck yes.
The image of you chained to his bed, begging for action or inaction, had his lower member throbbing .
Your words let out some sort of primal beast in him, because his desire never felt so strong in his life. His instincts told him to claim you and to claim you NOW, and never let you go until the ends of time.
That’s it. He wanted you now, and bad.
But he had to be patient. You were in his grasps and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off.
Patience, Shanks. You already made it this far , he told himself.
You gasped at the feeling of his cock poking your entrance.
“I don’t wanna wait anymore, baby. Can I?” He breathed.
You smiled shyly at his request, sending his heart over the moon. “Please.”
That was all he needed. He grunted as he pushed himself into you. God, you felt so tight and warm . If it was up to him he’d like to stay like that forever. He started slowly, pumping in and out of you in the best missionary position he could muster with one hand.
“Ahhh, Shanks,” You cried sweetly. “Th—that feels nice .”
He leaned fully into you, his large torso nearly crushing yours as he made way to encroach his dick into the deepest part of your being. You looked so good with your breasts crushed between your legs. The two of you shared a heated kiss, Shanks thrusting into you harder as his tongue explored the cave of your mouth.
“Fuck, Sunshine. I could fuck you all day. You like your pussy getting pounded?”
You could do nothing but cry out in pleasure, which was all the ‘yes’ he needed.
“Roll to the side for me, baby.” As you laid on your side, he did too, his thick cock sliding in from behind you. He grabbed your leg and lifted it up for better leeway, grunting as he pumped you full with his dick.
“Oh fuck, Shanks, you feel too good. You’re making me feel so good right now.” You praised. He moaned at your words, teeth sinking into your soft neck. He peppered your tender throat with kisses, never stopping his rhythm, if anything slamming into you harder after hearing those words.
You looked so fucking sexy, laid out like a fine gift just for him. He was never one for marriage, being a pirate and all, but here and now he knew you’d be the one. Your ass was so hot as it jiggled, and he was obsessed with watching the perfect way your wet pussy took his dick in so easily. It’s like you were made for him, just for him and only for him.
It made him thrilled to know you hadn’t done something like this with anyone else in a long time. He was taking his time, and he absolutely loved it. He loved YOU. So fucking much.
He flipped you so you were now on your stomach. “On your knees,” He commanded huskily, voice thick with lust.
As soon as you obliged, his breath hitched at how utterly dirty you looked from behind, ass out, pussy dripping with wetness.
Your moans were sweet, so sweet. He cursed under his breath, eyes glued to the way your pussy was forming a white ring on his dick as he drilled into you from behind.
He didn’t ignore the way he felt you clenching tighter. A pleased smirk etched across his face. “That’s it, baby. You gonna come for me? Huh?”
“Hahhhh, yes!” You whined breathlessly as Shanks took you to paradise, forgetting all your troubles as you reached your high. “God, I’m coming!”
“Good girl.” That seemed to really set you off, because immediately after you moaned loudly, inner walls of your vagina beating rhythmically. He kept going, fucking you through your orgasm, much to his pleasure and your distress.
“W-wait, Shanks! I can’t take anymore, I’m— ahhh —really sensitive right now!”
“Oh, yes you can. Can’t you feel the way you’re sucking me in? Come on and take it, baby. You’re doing so good right now.” He slapped your ass and you yelped.
“Mmm, it feels too good,” Whined your cute self.
“You’re cute, ya know that? I just wanna spoil you and take care of you like this every day.”
“I’d like that,” You voiced between pants.
“Atta girl,” The red-haired man praised, leaning into you so could cup your breast with his hand.
He whispered into your ear, “I love the sounds you make, Sunshine. You know how long I’ve dreamed of doing this? God, what you do to me.”
And now that he had you, he’d be hard pressed to let you go.
“Shanks, let me ride you. I wanna see your face.”
“Sure thing, Love.”
So you two switched positions again. Shanks laid on the mattress, leaning back as he watched you insert himself into you.
It was such a turn on watching the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you started grinding your hips into him. You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the lips.
“Let me help you with that,” He offered.
“What do you mea—ah!”
Shanks started thrusting as fast as he could into you, satisfied with the way your pussy tightened on him at every thrust. You held onto him tightly, fingers clawing at his back in a way that he didn’t mind.
You were moaning so lewdly. He felt himself slipping away, imagining a nice, cozy future together where he could fuck you as much as he liked. As much as you wanted.
Shit, he was gonna cum soon.
The fact that you felt so nice and warm was absolutely too much for him to handle.
“Fuck, baby, I think I’m gonna cum.”
You started suckling on his neck with vigor that was bound to leave nasty hickeys later, but he didn’t care.
“Keep going,” You ushered, “Don’t stop.”
“Shit, baby, you sure?” He said, sounding much more affected with each thrust.
He wasn’t expecting to come inside you but if that’s what you wanted, then fuck it.
“Yeah. I think I’m gonna come too!”
His breathing become haggard as he gripped your ass cheek with his hand, pumping into you like a madman. Finally, he felt that sweet release he was itching for as he let out ropes of cum into your pussy, your walls sucking him dry. You rode him even when he had nothing left to give dick sensitive to the touch.
You hopped off him and collapsed at his side, breathing heavily. He eyed the way cum slid down his dick, no thanks to you.
He gave you a kiss on the cheek.
“You did amazing, baby,” He praised.
“So did you. That felt great.”
The two of you laid there in silence, until you broke it. “I love you, Shanks.”
“I love you too. More than anything in the world.”
“…Take me with you, Shanks. I wanna join your crew.”
He shot right up at that. There was a twinkle in his eye. “Seriously? You mean it?”
You nodded, lips curving into the tiniest of smiles. “I can’t bear to see you go. And besides, ‘s not like I have anything left here anyways. Just…promise me we can find a doctor to help me?”
“Of course, Love, of course. Man I’m so glad you said that. I was seriously considering just snatching you away and taking you with us.”
You laughed at that, unaware he seriously meant it.
The idea was getting him all excited again.
“Say, you wanna go another round?”
“What—hey!”
And he was all over you, dragging kisses down your chest before you could say anything.
Chapter 4: Bonus Chapter : The Aftermath
“So, guess that’s everything!” You announced with the clap of your hands.
“Really? This isn’t a lot of stuff, Sunshine.”
You and Shanks were up early, packing your things so you’d be ready for the Red Force’s departure.
You scratched your head sheepishly. “Yeah, I don’t own many things. Being a florist doesn’t exactly earn you a mean amount of Berries, you know? Besides, I sold most of what I owned over the course of this week to have some pocket money.”
You were only bringing three bags with you : one for your clothes, one for your nic-nacs, and one small pouch for your medicines,  containing a stash of dried medicinal flowers for your illness. That’d keep your condition at bay for a month and a half, thankfully.
“Well, we have plenty of time to remedy that. Our band of misfits aren’t exactly broke, you know.”
“Aw, is Red trying to spoil me?”
“Only if you want.” He was standing beside you, hand on your hip as he gave you a peck on the cheek, watching with amazement at how fast your ears turned pink. Despite having gone all the way with him, you still felt like a shy, smitten schoolgirl around him. Perhaps the butterflies would wane over time.
“I appreciate it, but maybe another time. I got my own money to spend now, and I’d hate to use the ship’s coffers just for myself.”
“I mean, it’s gonna be inevitable, Love. We kind of have to pick up furnishings for your room. Unless you’d rather live in the captain’s quarters.”
“I mean….can I? Wait—I mean, only if you’re okay with that, I’m not saying I want your space and all, it’s just you’ll be there andIwon’thavetobealoneatnightand—“
Shanks beamed. “Woah, woah, slow your roll there pal. I’d love for you to stay with me. Contrary to popular belief, this cold-blooded captain gets lonely at night.
Your brightened at that.
“That being said, you’ll still have your own room to hang out in when you need space, and to hold all your things.”
“I understand,” You relented, “Where would we shop though?”
“In the village, of course. It’ll be a whole excursion. And I want you there to see the way they look at me when I walk into their shops. The faces they make are hilarious! You’re not the only one they dislike, ya know.” He gave you a hard pat on the back, making you go ‘oof’.
Once the two of you got your belongings on the ship, your trip around the village shops began. Shanks was right, seeing the villagers’ faces as your big bad captain showed up at their shop was hilarious. They didn’t even bother making any snide remarks to you because they were so busy being scared shitless of Shanks. The crimson haired man insisted you buy something for yourself on his dime, so you opted for a cheap sunhat and a new dress. Most of the shopping was dedicated to your would-be room, Shanks promising the shopkeeps he’d be back with his crew (that made one man nearly faint) to grab the furnishings after lunch.
The two of you were walking back to the dock.
“Shanks, I’m not getting anymore clothes,” You said after noticing he slipped a new pair of shoes into his bag.
“Well, who said they were for you?”
You threw him a look. “I don’t think you wear shoes that small. Unless you mean to buy for another woman.”
He threw you one back. “No way, don’t even joke about it. I’m loyal to you and to you alone, Sunshine.”
“Relax, big boy. I get it,” You smiled, “I’m loyal to you too.”
You sighed. “At least you’re better than my old boyfriend.”
“Oh yeah?” Inquired Shanks, a dangerous lilt in his voice that you failed to notice, “What was he like?”
“Handsome,” (Shanks did not like that), “A real heart stopper. But that was all he ever was. He was a playboy. Unreliable. Cheated on me with another girl and ran off with her. Last I heard, he became a shipwright in Water Seven. With a girl besides the one he cheated on me with, of course.”
“Damn, if I ever see him I’ll kick him in the balls for ya.”
You cackled at that. “Thanks, but I’d rather be the one to do it myself.”
“Feisty, eh?”
“Just for you, Shanks. Hey, where are you going?” You noticed he turned the opposite corner, which led to an alleyway. You followed suit, surprised when your back was pressed against the wall.
You gasped as a warm tongue quickly pushed its way into your mouth, a hand squeezing your waist as you were pulled into a demanding kiss.
When you parted ways, you were gasping for air. “W-what was that all about?”
There was a dark look in Shanks’s eyes, “Just claiming what’s mine. I don’t like it when you talk about other men in front of me. Or ever.”
Your cheeks felt terribly hot. And you found his possessiveness actually attractive rather than gross or controlling.
“Uh, I see,” You didn’t really know how to respond, “Guess I won’t do it again, haha.”
“Good girl.”
He gave you a kiss on the forehead, staring into your eyes as he spoke, “Let’s head back to the ship, yeah? There’s something I wanna do when we get back…”
You gulped. “Aye-aye, Captain.”
——————————————————-
Bonus POV: Shanks
You and I were packing your things early in the morning to bring to the Red Force. Without a doubt, I was ecstatic.
Truth be told, it was getting hard to part ways when we made out to sea. This time, I wouldn’t leave the island without you. I’m so glad you offered to come with me in the end.
Although, it did need a little encouragement.
Nonetheless I was happy. Only problem was you barely had anything to bring to the ship. This wouldn’t do. I didn’t realize how little you had until you mentioned not affording much as a florist.
My chest felt a pang of guilt at not noticing your needs. That was going to change though. From now on, I’d take care of you and make sure you were happy and would want for nothing. I offered to take you shopping since we needed furniture for your prospective room, anyways.
When you said you’d like to sleep in my quarters with me, I could feel my heart skip a beat. Everything about you was so perfect to me. And the fact that you reciprocated my feelings had me over the moon.
We ended up going shopping, and enjoyed mocking the villagers together. You were really amused to see their terrified faces at my presence. I don’t think you realized most people fear me, and that’s it’s kind of the normal reaction to have with pirates. Especially towards a Yonko like me. But that’s why I liked you in the first place. Because you weren’t scared. You treated everyone with respect and dignity, regardless of their situation. I’m glad you weren’t afraid of pirates.
That being said, if you ever got too friendly with another pirate crew (Whitebeard’s sons beware), there’d be hell to pay. I’m still trying to get the name of the sonofabitch who proposed to you, but you won’t relent. Probably because you know I’d make a complaint to Whitebeard. Smart girl.
You ended up buying a sunhat and a dress, much to my chagrin. I wish you got more things, but I understand you didn’t want to use my dime for your stuff. Hopefully that’d change in the future. You aren’t just my girlfriend anymore, you’re part of the crew. And I want to take care of you. It’d take some adjusting, but I know you’ll eventually grow to rely on me.
We were done shopping and headed towards the ship when you suddenly brought up your old boyfriend. Why? I felt jealousy surge inside me, but I bit my tongue and held back. Yassop had told me before that I need to work on keeping my possessiveness in check. Didn’t wanna scare you off, after all.
So I listened as you called him handsome, and then went on to call him a cheater, listing all the other terrible things about him that made you two separate. He sounded like a mouse of a man. You could have done better. But that was all in the past, right? You were doing better now.
You were mine. And mine alone. The thought always excited me, maybe to an unhealthy degree.
I led you to an alleyway so I could kiss you in private. I couldn’t handle the lack of physical touch when we were so close together. I absolutely loved the way you tasted, I do everytime we kiss.
I love you. I love you so much.
Do I regret hurting you to get the outcome I wanted? Not one bit. I’d do it again, even if it means you’d find out. 
Because now, I had you all to myself.
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