#but now like in present time he’s just like succumbed to it and is like yeah i have this new gadget it’s call the bat-terry

[my-love-is-sunlight]

Magic Music Box

Law x strawhat!reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, gn reader, confession, fluff

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: You ask Law to dance with you

Masterlist

The smell of booze mixed with the warm lights and the sound of laughter and stomping filled the atmosphere of The Thousand Sunny as everyone unraveled with a well deserved celebration. Law felt out of his element, but finding your company rarely soothing

You were sitting across his table making fun lighthearted conversation, it may not seem like it but the alcohol in your drink was starting to get to your head, laughing louder than you probably should at Law’s snarky comments and sarcastic remarks. Strangely the Captain seemed to be enjoying the night while it was spent with you, suddenly feeling part of the party and actually having a little fun in your conversation. And not gonna lie, he was enjoying the view

Your view

So when you got up form your seat running with Nami in hand to the dance floor he couldn’t help but to grimace

“Absolutely not I don’t dance” you had answered the navigator as she approached you offering her hand to get up and dance, she rolled her eyes and begged but you didn’t bat an eye. That was until Law spotted her whispering something to Brook before making her way back to the table

As the song changed and the new melody made its way to your ears you couldn’t help but to smile wide and get up

“That’s my song! C’mon Traffy” you had said as you motioned to follow the two, he just shook his head and took a sip form his drink looking away, he would rather get shot and die

Stumbling you make it to the center of the room while you let loose and hit every single move with a newfound confidence

He wondered why he allowed himself to get to this point, where he fell head over heels for a strawhat. The moment he met you he knew it would be inevitable, your warm welcoming personality threaded with your kind and brave heart made it impossible to get you out of his head, and that smile and your laugh and your big eyes that stared back pleading for him to succumb to your charm

He tried to fight it, drilling the thought of your alliance being a finite professional fragile thing that would most definitely make his feelings tangle the situation. But all of it traveled to the back burner, enjoying your long blissful talks, shared stares and slight touches that would slip out of his hands. He was present in the moment with you, everything fading

He cursed the day you had finally climbed up his walls and got through him, suddenly making himself known to you on a highly personal level; something he had prevented for so long but it somehow felt right, allowing you to hold his heart on your graceful hands and keep it safe, because he knew you would cherish it

As you spin around your eyes lock with his, a smile settling on your features, a genuine happiness that infects the surgeon making him smile back at you, pink tinting his cheeks as he basks in how gorgeous you look even when dancing around drunk

You continue spinning and fall onto Luffy, who laughs as he catches you. He can make out the words ‘sorry’ come out of your mouth, but join on the silly laughter with your stretchy Captain. Now you find yourself dancing along with him, Law clenched his teeth at the way Luffy’s hands sit on your hands and waist, which is stupid really, if you’d offered him to dance with you a second time he would decline again, but now he weights his options seeing how you sway around with the straw hat, wishing he could hold you close the same way he does at the rhythm of your favorite song

Luffy takes both of your hands and spins you around making you beam brighter than any sunset he had witnessed in his troubled life, he curses under his breath as jealousy extends trough his being that is quick to fade when you stop in your tracks, holding your head in one hand while the other looks for support on your Captain standing in front of you worried. Law is by your side in a heartbeat, hand in your back while he lowers to your level while you’re hunched over looking at the floor

“Think’ we danced too hard” Luffy says but Trafalgar doesn’t spare him a glance

“You think?”

“I’m fine” you cut them off standing up slowly but surely.- “Just a little dizzy” your eyes snap shut trying to make the room stop spinning

“You need to sit down” Law doesn’t leave room for arguing, taking you away from the straw hat’s hold while he walked you back to your table, Luffy just giggles at the way Traffy just seemed to softened in your hold.

While you walked stumbled through the room, Law could feel how you supported yourself on his bigger frame, holding onto his arm with both hands making his heart flip. He settles you down carefully, your hands quickly making their way for your drink which he grabs the moment he notices, making you whine

“That’s enough of this” a blue bubble shines through his tattooed hands and replaces the drink with a water bottle that he opens for you. You take it with a pout, Law sitting beside you with his worried eyes scanning every nook and cranny of your body

“I told you I was just dizzy” you reassure after downing half the water, Law adverts his eyes from you immediately

“Just making sure” you smile at that, knowing how he genuinely cares for your well being, sometimes too much

You stare back at the surgeon, tracing his features over and over again before you are up on your feet for a second round

“Slow down” he says switching to doctor mode again

“You’re not my doctor right now, you’re Law” your hands extend to catch both of his sending electric shocks trough his whole body, but holding onto you nonetheless

“And Law is dancing with me”

He had long jumped over the lines of being a Captain, a doctor and just being himself, the three blurring together not really knowing where one started and one ended. Somehow you had reminded him who he was beyond his pirate life, devoting yourself to Trafalgar Law, not the Captain of the Heart Pirates, not The Surgeon of Death. You saw him for just him, his vulnerable broken self that you embraced

Even though he really doesn’t want to dance at all, the way your body presses to his, his hands gripping your hips like a lifeline and your gaze on his makes him surrender, making a lot of his subordinates and allies turn their heads and laugh at how weird it was to see him in this position

You were a complete mystery to Law, how could you do this to him? Why weren’t you afraid or disgusted by his reputation? Why did you wanted to dance with him? And why did he allowed you to?

Eventually the upbeat songs slowed down to ballads, your head resting on his drumming chest while he held you like you were about to disappear

Your head looked up to his golden eyes, completely lost in the feeling “Thank you Law, I know you hate this stuff” you murmured, your sweet words fanning on his goatee making him shiver

He stays awfully quiet before he formulates the right words to speak “Please stay, y/n-ya”

There’s something almost wrong when you hear him pleading, taking you aback not only at the words but at their implications, finally sinking in the fact of the complicated relationship you had buried yourselves in

Your feet stop moving, your thoughts running a mile a minute not really knowing what your answer could do or be. You let your guard down, some people would deem it as stupid specially as you stand before the most methodic man you had ever known, your heart screams you to do one thing while your brain glitches to comprehend

You switch your position making Law increasingly nervous, thinking you may just leave him in the dust. Instead, you tip toe to meet his dried mouth and rest your lips on his in dreamy kiss full of yearning

Is it a yes? Is it a maybe? Is it a promise? Neither of you know

But it felt right

I am back on my Rock en español era and this was inspired by this song, what can I say latin-american rock is so damn good

#one piece #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law fluff #trafalgar law one piece #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #trafalgar law imagine #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x you #law x y/n #law x you #law x reader #law one piece #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #x reader #one piece fanfiction #trafalgar d law x you #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d law x y/n #Spotify

[lilacxquartz]

Don’t Make Me Feel Alive | Chapter 1

Kenjaku (Pseudo-Geto) x Fem!Reader

[This fic contains Shibuya Arc spoilers and is updated every Saturday.]

About:

Diagnosed at an early age with an illness that slowly deteriorated your body; you went from being a promising sorcerer to a retired husk of your once former self until he found you, offering you an opportunity to live instead—not that you had a choice to refuse.

Chapter Summary:

You used to be so powerful before your illness claimed you and right on your deathbed, rather than finally meeting your end, you met your salvation instead. Or did you?

Tags/themes: (in the future chapters)

»yandere, chronically ill reader, forced dynamic, non-con, dub-con, violence, caretaking, unrequited feelings, sorcerer reader, dead-dove, mixed pov, potential interpretations of dubious sorcery«

1. Beginning.

You were born with a disease; a terrible one too.

At first, you didn’t really notice it in your youth as the progression was initially subtle, the signs not really quite there just yet and for that duration, you were bustling with potential, a promising sorcerer with a powerful technique—a future so bright and aglow with promise.

However, all good things must come to an end and that’s exactly where you were headed.

Even if you were once sculpted with such strength and vibrancy—the illness drained away all the colour from your once saturated existence, replacing your present day life with a film of bleak monochrome, anchoring away at your body, soul and mind.

Not even your cursed technique known for its electrifying power was capable of reigniting the spark lost within you; your body relented against you, forcing you to succumb and deteriorate with not a single thing you could do.

It was a little humiliating in a way—like a bitter pill that you weren’t quite ready to swallow and yet here you were, forced to face reality whether you wanted to or not.

It felt strange being on your deathbed in your mid twenties, but it wasn’t all too bad.

The doctor who oversaw you did her best to offer comfort, assuring you that it likely wasn’t your time just yet, but she didn’t feel what you did, she didn’t understand your body the same way that you did. It was close, almost time for you to go, but strangely you didn’t quite mind. Whether it was your final week or your final day, you felt excited; you wanted to rest.

This was a sickness that made you feel weak after all, so tired and terribly sore.

So when you felt that strangely alluring pull invite you to a place you probably shouldn’t quite tempt going to just yet, you found yourself unable to resist the promise of a good sleep. Maybe even, with some luck, it could last forever and you would never have to live out your days in pain again.

To finally be devoid of suffering.

To drift off into oblivion, lost in an eternal void.

And yet, as you succumbed to the total darkness that otherwise awaited you, there was a strange sensation that manifested in the waking world—an interference of some kind? It felt as though unseen hands reached out to grab you, interrupting you from going under a final time and pulling you back to the surface, forcing you to live another day.

Your eyes reluctantly opened, feeling that something was off.

You were being monitored—watched by something, someone.

Your eyes focused on the person who stood before you, meeting with his chilling gaze from a stare so vacant and devoid of humanity, that he could have been the devil himself.

The stranger greeted you with cold indifference, bordering contempt as he continued to guide his gaze, the palms that he had initially planted firm against your chest now slowly moving away, having successfully done something that you couldn’t quite understand; your body still felt sore and yet, the pull of the void wasn’t so strong anymore.

Did he just give you life?

“It would be such a waste of a good technique if you were to die right now, you know.” The stranger spoke, his voice calm and deliberate, laced with a threat that he kept hidden well.

“What good is it if I can’t use it?” You croaked in response.

His lips curled into an amused smile as he heard your question, those soulless eyes finally ablaze with life, a flicker of something almost human.

“You can. Or, at least, I can make it so that you will be able to again.”

“Impossible,” you denied, knowing fully well that your body didn’t work the way you wanted it to, no matter how many times you have tried before.

“Don’t be so sure,” he persisted, his voice ringing almost melodic as he continued to fill your mind with ideas you couldn’t quite believe, “don’t you want to live your life again?”

You sighed into a nod, however not trusting the stranger just yet. There was something incredibly off-putting about him, seeming just a little too calculated and methodic, as if danger lurked behind his promising words.

“I mean, I want to, but…” You began.

“Sleep on it,” he told you, seeming to tease you as his widening grin revealed his teeth, “you were about to anyway, weren’t you?”

“Y-yeah, but-”

“Then do so,” he said, taking a step forward, “dream.”

The strange man’s words felt strangely hypnotic as you found yourself exhausted once again. A part of you wondered if this was some sort of hallucination already, perhaps one of those dreams that people could have as their bodies closed up shop, even if you did clock it as unfortunately real.

You closed your eyes as you let the pull of the void take you under once more, feeling the strangely familiar touch of unseen hands tugging away at your body once again, pulling your soul back up to the surface, preventing you from fading away. It was again that you felt haunted by a looming danger, your eyes blurring to focus awake.

When you finally properly awoke, you took immediate note that you weren’t in the hospital anymore despite being hooked up to similar machinery.

Where exactly were you?

As you sat up to make sense of your surroundings, your eyes scrolled around the room in a surge of desperation—your gaze begging for a clue, only for your stomach to drop as your body froze. Right by the door, he stood there, that same man from before with his creepy, unsettling smile.

“I will be honest with you though, you might not like what you’ll have to do.” The strange man spoke, his words flowing as smoothly as they did before.

“Which is…?” You asked, sounding a little resigned. Of course there was a catch, there always was.

“You’re going to be helping me with something.”

You blinked, “and that’s bad?”

“Given your prior alignment, I’d say so,” he smiled as he took a step closer, his fingertips brushing against your cheek, “but worry not, you will live should you accept.”

“But what if I refuse?” You dared to ask, your voice barely a whisper as his touch seemed to dampen your ability to speak.

“Don’t be silly,” he replied with a softer tone, his black eyes boring into yours as he intensified his unrelenting gaze as his smile fell flat, “I wouldn’t let you.”

(Not even if you tried to do so again and again.)

#jjk fanfic #multi chapter #weekly updates #kenjaku x reader #kenjaku x you #yandere x female reader #yandere x reader #yandere kenjaku #yandere jjk #fanfic #dark fanfiction #dark fic #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #jjk yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere fantasy #yandere fanfiction #dark yandere #jjk x y/n #kenjaku #pseudo geto #cross posted on ao3 #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk kenjaku #jjk x reader #dead dove content #oh god what have i written #i am sorry in advance

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Shun the Light Ch. 5 - Hunger

Slow Burn | Refuge | Decision | Mend |

Author's Notes: Some vampire POV! His name is Dante now.

I just realized Dante doesn't know what Matteo is. Gonna have some fun with that later.

Content Warnings: vampire whumpee, werewolf whumpee, burns, exhaustion, hypnosis, self sacrifcie, touch starvation, angst

----

That last drink, a proper drink straight from the vein, gives the vampire the strength to sit up and lean back against the wall.

The raw new skin on his chest is still pink and tender. Dante winces when he touches it. The agony of burning is still fresh in his memory.

Night has fallen. Dante wonders if he would be dead by now if this stranger hadn't, inexplicably, rescued him. Would the setting sun have ended his suffering, or only increased it? Over the years he has tested the limits of his immortality in small ways, but never with sunlight. He shudders at the thought of how many days it might have taken for his body to succumb.

"You should have killed me," he mumbles. "It would have been simpler."

"No...it wouldn't."

Dante startles. He wasn't expecting an answer from the crumpled figure. When he looks down he meets a pair of tired eyes, golden brown like honey.

Too much happened over the past day. It's more than Dante can process in his current state, and so he finds himself simply fixated on there being a living, breathing person here for the first time in decades.

Dante is so used to stillness in the large, empty house and his cold, undead body. The stranger, on the other hand, is so very alive - warm and restless, with labored breathing and a beating heart.

"Why did you come here?" Dante wonders quietly. "What do you want?"

Why did you save me? Don't you know what I am?

"A bed would be nice." The other man stretches, groaning when his joints pop and crack. "I'd settle for a couch. Anything." He looks worn down and absolutely miserable.

Dante wasn't expecting an answer. It's so casual, as if the situation they find themselves in together is completely normal. At a loss for what else to do or say, he simply nods.

I guess it's the least I can do.

Standing takes a moment but he manages. His visitor is less successful, getting halfway there before mumbling 'nope' and dropping to his knees.

Even after all these years of solitude certain instincts remain. Without a thought, Dante offers a hand to help him up.

It doesn't cross his mind that he hasn't touched a human being in almost fifty years - when he was still human himself.

A hand slips into his. Dante can feel the pulse thrumming beneath warm skin. His fangs throb with need. I wouldn't even kill him. Just another drink. It would be so easy...

The man must see the hunger in his gaze, and must know equally well that he wouldn't stand a chance. Conflicting emotions cross his face before resignation sets in.

Dante's eyes gleam silver in the dark.

"Stand up."

The man stands on command, shaking from the effort. Dante keeps hold of his hand to help him stay upright. The man closes his eyes and tips his head a little, baring his throat.

Suddenly all Dante can see is a sharpened stake held tight in a fist. He, too, had given in and presented himself like a lamb for slaughter, only to be 'spared' in the cruelest way.

"Look at me."

These words are spoken plainly, without mesmerism. Yet the man obeys it too, cautiously meeting the vampire's eyes.

"I won't hurt you," Dante promises. It's a promise he doesn't even know if he can keep, but the man seems to believe him.

Their hands are still locked. Now that the hunger has passed Dante is left with the old, new, strange, familiar sensation of human touch.

The man clears his throat and pulls his hand away. Dante feels colder than ever.

"Follow me." He turns and leads the way to the bedroom next door. His rescuer follows, leaning on the wall for support.

"I - I can sleep here?"

The man looks like he might cry when he sees the large, plush bed with its old but well-kept bedding. He staggers towards it but then hesitates to look back at Dante like he's afraid it might be a trick. He looks like he needs a good night's rest as desperately as Dante needs blood, and he can't think of many things more cruel than denying him that.

"Yes. Go ahead."

With a breathless "thank you", the man collapses heavily onto the bed. He doesn't even bother to get under the covers before he's out cold.

Dante stands there and just watches him for several minutes. He takes in every bit of him, every hair and freckle, every cut, bruise and scar. Each rise and fall of his back as he breathes is mesmerizing to the vampire, a steady rhythm that whispers alive, alive, alive.

And just for a moment he could swear his long dead heart is aching.

#vampire whump #werewolf whump #injury #healing burns #cuts #bruises #exhaustion #burns #hypnosis (briefly) #hunger #thirst #angst #whump writing #my writing #my ocs #dante #matteo #shun the light #self sacrifice #giving up

[drinkinboilingcoffee]

Could you maybe tell us a bit more about remnant hunger? It seems like such a cool idea

Rubs hands together evilly like a small housefly Eheheeheheh (It’s easiest to explain if I just do an in-depth explanation of my au version of remnant, so this is some of that as well. The most important thing to understand is that remnant is NOT the same thing as soul.) REALLY long post ahead.

So the way remnant works in my au is that it’s a naturally occurring metal in the bodies of most living things (like iron or something) with a simple purpose: to bind the soul to its body. It’s found all throughout the system, but is concentrated most in the brain and nervous system (and the smarter an animal is, the more remnant there is binding its consciousness). So you want to make a ghost, huh? To do that you need a soul, a lot of remnant (different surfaces like metal hold onto remnant better) and a part of their body that the process will transfer the soul from. In areas with enough remnant, ghosts can happen naturally if there’s enough remnant in whatever part of the victim binds to a surface (Evan with the brain matter when his skull was crushed, Charlie with spinal fluid when she was stabbed in the neck). Remnant also has a relatively low melting temp (its liquid in the human body) and unbinds if it heats up to its gas state.

Now, living things constantly gain and lose enough remnant in their systems through the natural process of eating, drinking and breathing that running seriously low is hard to do without already being on the brink of succumbing to hunger and exhaustion. But spirits? Whatever they possess (be it an animatronic or corpse) exists in a much more passive state. They lose remnant, but it’s harder to gain it without digestion or circulation. It takes a while, but day by day their soul slowly unwinds from their body. The symptoms tend to present themselves as an intense hunger accompanied by a lack of self control that progresses into the eventual point of completely uncontrollable aggression. You can stave it off for a while, but in the end the only way to end the hunger is to sate it with concentrated remnant- aka human flesh.

You don’t necessarily have to kill someone for it (Mike probably breaks into morgues and such for the most part), but the longer something is dead, the less remnant it has. The guard bodies they recover from failed night shifts aren’t usually very intact almost entirely as a result of the animatronics feeding, Elizabeth gets a cut of the remnant from what she catches from Circus Baby’s capture mechanism, etc. William specifically was pretty fucked up by this, since he went like 30 years without more than the occasional rat to eat, so that whole time was in a sort of hunger-driven half conscious stupor (whoever unearthed him definitely got fucking eaten) which is why he’s so unhinged in fnaf 3 and much more ‘human’ in fnaf 6.

Mike was definitely pretty hard hit by the whole thing because: A) he has to pose as a human being and get along as normally as possible in society. B) he already has a lot of internalized fear of hurting people, and having a deep desire to bite Jeremy’s face off whenever he’s hungry doesn’t help. C) guy works at Fazbear Entertainment, he’s around blood and bodies all the time and he has to physically force himself not to just go batshit crazy. Good news, he can at least access already dead bodies somewhat consistently so he’s not running around murdering people, bad news is pretty good odds he snapped and ate a coworker once and got an extra layer of trauma on top of the ever growing pile.

#fnaf #fnaf au #michael afton #Sleepwalking insomniac #My au #tw cannibalism #tw body horror #? #Tw gore text #Text post #au lore

[ickadori]

Hiiii I love love loveeeee your sukuna and uraume fics, I keep rereading them!!

Had a kinda idea and would love if you could expand or share your thoughts

You said in one of your fics that reader would often go to uraume for sex if they were being punished by sukuna, well what would happen if sukuna walked in on them in the middle of it?

Would he just watch? Be a Bit angry? tell uraume what to do or to stop? Or maybe even punish uraume as well?

Hope your doing well, and looking forward to future stuff<33

cws for fem reader.

Sukuna didn’t often punish you solely due to the fact that you seldomly broke the rules that he had set in place for you.

Even if you had been foolish enough to test the bounds of The King of Curses’ patience when it came to you, there simply weren’t enough rules for you to go about breaking. There were only two rules that he had given you when you were first brought here so long ago - don’t cause harm to yourself, and don’t engage anyone besides himself and Uraume.

You weren’t too keen on hurting yourself, always having been especially sensitive to pain, even as little as a pinprick on your finger was enough to have you sniffling, and even if you had wanted to converse with the staff skittering around the palace, they had all been too terrified to interact with you, no one willing to give you so much as a glance in fear of incurring Sukuna’s wrath.

In total, you had only been punished two times, although you’re starting to think that Sukuna had gone especially easy on you before. You had been assigned to clean the entire upper left wing of the palace, the largest portion of the upstairs, and you had thought your fingers were going to fall off before he finally made you stop scrubbing already pristine floors. The other punishment had been barring you from the gardens, a pastime that he knew you loved. You’d spend most of your days walking the cobbled paths and aww’ing over the different flowers, and even watching the groundskeeper from a distance to keep them unaware of your presence lest they scurry off.

The punishments, which had seemed so cruel and painful in the moment, now pale in comparison to the new punishment that’s been bestowed upon you.

“Until you learn to take what’s given to you, you won’t be getting anything.”

Those were the words that he had left you with when you had been on the cusp of bliss, and nothing more. He had slipped out of you with a heart-shattering squelch and quickly placed his robe onto his broad shoulders, and left your chambers even quicker. It had been a restless night, thanks to him, and simply because you had been a bit too eager to finally take all of him - as if that was such a heinous crime that it warranted this level of punishment!

You had never been more miserable -not even when you had watched your village be razed to the ground- and Sukuna seemed bemused by your refusal to hide it. He smirked and chided you, even snickering with Uraume when the two of them caught you ogling so shamelessly, even going so far as to rocking in your seat.

Uraume always aligned themself with Sukuna when he was around, so them sharing joy over your suffering was to be expected, but Uraume succumbing to your whines and pleas the moment Sukuna left the palace was also to be expected.

~

Cornering them was easy enough - Uraume never strayed too far from your side whenever Sukuna wasn’t present. You had been in the gardens, gazing out at the colorful assortments of flowers before your mind had wandered to a past memory, a more lewd one, and suddenly you had been hyper aware of Uraume’s gaze on you.

It had lit your skin afire, blood rushing through your veins and making your head spin. You had practically collapsed in their arms when you neared them, and their hands, cold like ice, had quelled that fire so effortlessly, but there had been another one - one that Sukuna had lit and refused to put out.

“Uraume,” your voice comes out weak, a clear plea woven in between the dulcet tones, and shaky fingers reach out to curl around the belt of their kimono. “Can you.. can you help me?”

“Lord Sukuna has made your punishment known, and I am not inclined to end it early.” Their fingers wrap around your wrist, their grip unnaturally strong, and Uraume gives you a placid look. “It seems you’re still thinking about yourself - you greedy girl. Lord Sukuna’s pleasure should always come before your own—how many times must I tell you this?”

“But, Uraume!” Your whine sounds childish even to you, but the incessant throbbing between your legs is too great for you to care. “It isn’t fair.”

“That isn’t for you to decide.” They push your arms back by your sides, the action causing the floral kimono you wear to slip down a rounded shoulder. “If you behave for a bit longer, then I’m sure Lord Sukuna will—”

“—I don’t want Sukuna.” You’re certain that if you had said that in the earlier days of knowing Uraume, that they would have killed you without a second thought to Sukuna’s orders against harming you. “I want you, Uraume.”

They pause, their hands slackening around your wrists, and you take the opportunity to press your body flush against theirs, your breasts squished against their chest as your lips brush against theirs. “I need you.” Your breaths mix together. “Please - help me.”

There’s a beat of silence before they speak.

“…Lord Sukuna is not due back for another two nights.” Their voice is low, nearly silent, as if Sukuna could somehow witness his most loyal servant’s betrayal. “And he didn’t explicitly say that I wasn’t allowed to pleasure you,” their finger hooks into the crease of your kimono, and your breath quickens as they pull it down, slowly, until your chest is fully revealed. “But rather that he wouldn’t. So, I suppose..this should be fine.”

The chilled air bites at your exposed nipples, the buds quickly hardening, and Uraume puts a small gap between the two of you, a light flush working its way into their cheeks as they brush a finger over the hard bud. Their name leaves your mouth in a moan that they frequently called ‘wantonly’ when in a sour mood, and then your lips are pressing together, their hands working to undo your clothing while yours clutch onto theirs.

The kiss is dizzying -it always is with them- and you hardly notice your nude state when their tongue glides against your own, your mind fogging over as your lips move together. Their hand, cold as ice, clears the haze as it pushes against your stomach, fingers sliding lower until they’re drawing small, slow circles on your clit.

Your mouths part with a suctioned noise. “You poor fool,” Uraume gathers your slick on their fingers, the sheer amount of it making the both of you moan in astonishment, and they smear it over your folds before going back to your clit. “You’ve been suffering, haven’t you?” There’s an amused lilt to their voice, but you pay it no mind, too busy mouthing at the expanse of their neck as they all too easily slip two fingers into your drooling hole, thumb pressed firm to your throbbing nub.

You choke on a cry, shoulders tensing and toes curling in your geta sandals, and all it takes is one rub of their fingers against your walls to have you falling apart; eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, head tossed back, and back arched as you cum on their fingers.

Chants of Uraume leave you as they keep pumping their fingers, soft pads abusing that spot that never fails to turn you into a sloppy mess -something that they so frequently call you when you get like this- and their lips finding yours once again.

You quickly end up with your back against the flowers, mind too far gone to be upset over the broken stems and ruined petals. Uraume has taken to burrowing themself between your thighs, hands traveling up your waist and front to grope at your heaving breasts, mouth latched onto your cunt.

You’re sensitive - no doubt the result of Sukuna’s punishment, and every touch from Uraume is felt tenfold. Every swipe of their tongue sent a tingle of pleasure up your spine, every suckle on your clit made dots appear in your vision, and every squeeze and pinch of your breasts made your hole clench and ooze.

“Ura—” Your breath hitches when they groan against you, and you feel another high approaching, this one more intense than the last. Lithe fingers stretch you open, more than you’ve been stretched for weeks, and a skillful tongue flattens over your clit. You pull up tufts of grass and barely blossomed flowers as your hands scramble for purchase, your heels digging into the dirt.

Uraume speaks into your clit, the words lost on you, and your hands fly to their hair, fingers curling into the strands as something strong and paralyzing zips through you. Your muscles tense, tendons in your neck straining, eyes rolling, and then you’re relaxing just as fast, body slumping against the ground, lashes fluttering, and chest raising with soft breaths.

“Uraume..” You sigh, and the sun which had been steadily beaming its warm rays down onto the both of you is suddenly dimmed. You blink your eyes open, Uraume’s head slowly raising from between your thighs, and the both of you make a strangled noise at the sight of Sukuna towering over the both of you.

Two sets of eyes drag over the both of your forms, lingering on Uraume’s slick coated face and the mess between your thighs. His gaze collides with yours, and if your body didn’t feel as if it was made out of jelly, you would have hidden your face away into Uraume’s neck at the sharp look.

“Looks like I’ve got two brats to teach a lesson now.” Uraume flinches at the newly acquired title, and you flinch at the dark grin he casts down on the both of you.

~

“Oh, don’t sleep on me now,” a heavy smack lands on your ass, and you huff out a breath at the sting, tired eyes struggling to stay open. Uraume is laid beside you in a similar state - body flushed, hair disheveled, face mushed against the sheets to stifle their noises.

“You had a measly two days left to go.” Sukuna directs his words at you, his hips snapping forward to sink his cock into Uraume. “But you couldn’t keep this needy little thing in check.” Three thick fingers slam into the ‘needy little thing’ in question, and you keen, wet lashes squeezing shut. “And you.”

One hand grabs a fistful of white hair, and Uraume groans as they’re pulled up, lips coated in their own drool. “My most loyal falling victim to pussy of all things - pathetic.”

“L-Lord Sukuna!” Uraume’s hole is stretched to its limit around two cocks, and you feel a sob fight its way out of your throat at the sight. That’s what had caused all this - Sukuna freely being so rough and brutish with Uraume, not thinking twice before stuffing them full of everything he had, yet not doing the same for you.

“‘S not fair!” You cry, his fingers curling upwards to mash against that gummy spot inside you. “Ryomen!”

“Shut your mouth, girl.” Another hand moves to fiddle with your clit, and you feel an orgasm approaching, but you know he won’t let you have it. “You’ve talked enough, haven’t you?” His fingers spread and scissor inside you, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge before he’s slipping his hands away, a dark snicker leaving him as he steals your bliss away.

Uraume chooses then to moan out, your orgasm transferred over to them, and you feel painfully empty, hips pushing back in a silent beg as you whine into the sheets.

“I’ll fuck you until you’re sick of it,” he speaks against Uraume’s ear but his eyes are locked on yours. “So the next time she whines for you to touch this greedy pussy of hers while she’s on punishment,” his fingers slip their way back inside, “you’ll remember this and think twice.” His eyes narrow on you. “And you’ll watch me give them what you so desperately crave.”

#uraume x reader #sukuna x reader #uraume x sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

[nahoney22]

Me again! Please can I request some HC’s with the bad batch and how they react to reader (gn or female) accidentally crawling into the boys bunk at night 😂

Accidental Sleeping Arrangements

All Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

How the boys react to you accidentally crawling into their bunk at night.

warnings: Fluff, comfort, cuddles, some moody boys, gender neutral reader. Can be read as romantic or platonic.

Echo 💤

The first time:

As you slid into his bunk accidentally that evening, he was thoroughly bewildered. He had jolted awake and sat upright, observing your exhausted form snuggling against him, eyelids heavy with fatigue.

With tactful gentleness, he roused you from your slumber, delicately shaking you to bring you back to awareness. "Hey, um, you're in my bunk, trooper."

Your eyes flickered open, adjusting to the dim light, and a muttered curse escaped your lips as you retreated, cheeks warming with embarrassment. "Sorry, Echo," you apologized, slipping out of his bunk. "I must be completely drained," you sheepishly confessed.

"It's alright. I just didn't want to startle you by waking up to my face," he commented. You glance at him with a furrow forming on your brow before you shook your head.

"I doubt I'd be bothered by that..." your words trailed off, potentially carrying unintended flirtation. Echo's eyes widened slightly, his hand instinctively moving to the back of his neck, a clear sign of slight shyness at your words.

"Anyway," you say abruptly, spinning on your heel. "Sorry about that."

Echo simply nodded, silently observing as you retreated to your own bunk, leaving him with a sudden chill in the air, now yearning for the warmth you briefly brought beside him.

The second time:

With a tired yawn, Echo wearily approaches his bunk a few nights later, only to halt in surprise at the sight of someone curled up inside. Upon closer inspection, he realises it's you again, presenting him with a slight dilemma.

Despite his weariness, Echo knows he needs rest, and while your bunk is an option, his own provides the perfect setup for his cybernetics, ensuring he's at his best for the next day's duties.

Letting out a small sigh, hoping you wouldn't mind, he settles on the edge of his bunk and gently wakes you. "Hey, you're in my bunk again," he murmurs softly.

You stir, meeting his gaze before cringing slightly. "Again? I'm so sorry," you begin to rise, but his hand on your shoulder stops you.

"You can stay, but I'd also like to get some sleep... if you, uh, catch my meaning," he hints with a faint smile, hoping you understand.

"Oh," you blush, considering for a moment. "Well, I hope you don't mind sharing."

"Not at all," he reassures, his tone gentle as you make space. He lies beside you, and before long, you drift back to sleep. Echo finds solace in the rhythm of your soft snores, gradually succumbing to sleep himself... though waking up to find you both cuddling is a surprise he hadn't anticipated, yet one he welcomes warmly.

Hunter 💤

The first time:

When Hunter awoke to find you crawling into his bunk, confusion gripped him. Instantly alert, his hands tensed, ready to confront any potential intruder, but his apprehension melted away as he recognised you.

He lay there in silence, contemplating his next move.

While a part of him felt inclined to let you sleep, considering your recent exhaustion, he couldn't shake the concern of startling you upon awakening to find him beside you.

After ensuring you were deeply asleep, he carefully extricated himself from the occupied bunk, making sure not to disturb you.

Once free, he couldn't suppress a soft chuckle as he observed you, peacefully snuggled into his pillow, emitting gentle snores. “Sleep well.” He whispered to you before leaving you to rest.

He made a mental note to address the situation in the morning, but perhaps it’s better left unsaid since you’ll know your error when you woke up.

The second time:

As you woke up to find yourself in Hunter's bunk, mortification swept over you. Yet, when you encountered Hunter in the cockpit, he didn't mention a word about it, instead offering you a drink of caf.

A small part of you entertained the idea that perhaps he was unaware of the nighttime intrusion. However, your suspicions were confirmed a few nights later.

Fatigued and not paying attention to your surroundings, you headed towards what you thought was your bunk and climbed inside, only to be surprised by the presence of another person. "Hunter, what're you doing?" you blurt out, eyes widening in disbelief.

"I could ask you the same question," he chuckles, adjusting his position and turning to face you. "This is my bunk."

Blinking in realisation, you glance around, confirming his assertion. "Oh," you laugh sheepishly, "I thought this was mine."

His smile is gentle, his eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. "You're more than welcome to stay," he offers casually, though he soon realizes the potential implications of his words. "If you want to, that is."

A part of you knows you should return to your own bunk, yet there's an inexplicable pull keeping you there. "Well, I'm all comfy now..." you hint with a small smile.

He nods, turning his gaze away and closing his eyes. "Me too. Sleep well."

It took you a moment to fall asleep but just like how Hunter didn’t tell you that you had slept in his bunk first initially, you won’t tell him how he pulls you into his body as he slept and held you close throughout the night. Not that you seemed to mind.

Wrecker 💤

The first time:

"Wrecker, you scared me! What are you doing in my bunk?" you exclaimed, startled by the unexpected intrusion.

As you thought you were settling into your bunk for the night, using your hands to navigate through the darkness, you accidentally crawled onto something large and hard.

Assuming it was just your sheets bunched up, you attempted to smooth it out, only to be met with a small yelp that made your heart skip a beat.

"Huh?" Wrecker groggily emerged from his sleep cocoon, rubbing his eyes. "This is my bunk, isn't it?"

"No, I'm pretty sure it's mine," you asserted, but as Wrecker shifted in the bunk and reached under the blanket, he pulled out his beloved Lula.

"Oh. Maybe not then." You felt pretty embarrassed by your mistake, but Wrecker didn't seem to mind at all.

"It's alright, thought I was going to get an extra cuddle buddy for a second there!" he chuckled heartily, waving Lula in your face. His laughter filled the room, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you at the thought of being Wrecker's "cuddle buddy," though you weren't entirely sure if he was joking.

Deciding not to dwell on it further and eager to avoid keeping Wrecker awake any longer, you offered a meek apology before retreating to your actual bunk. As you settled in, you couldn't shake the image of Wrecker's playful grin from your mind.

The second time:

Wrecker stared down at his bunk, finding it already occupied with not much room left for him. You were snoozing away, oblivious to his dilemma. Wrecker knew he could be a bit of a grouch without his sleep, so he decided to gently prod you awake.

"Hey," he nudged you, rousing you from your slumber. "Is this you asking to be my cuddle buddy?"

You stirred awake, blinking in confusion as you glanced at him. It was then that you noticed Lula on the pillow next to your head. "Oh shoot, sorry Wrecker," you sighed groggily, just wanting to fall back asleep into the warmth of his bunk.

"It's alrigh’," he chuckled softly, his deep voice filling the room with warmth. "But uh... I kinda need to sleep."

"Then come cuddle next to me," the words slipped out before you realized what you were saying, but you didn't want to take them back either. The thought of Wrecker's warmth beside you was oddly comforting.

Wrecker was surprised for a moment, his eyes widening slightly, before a soft smile spread across his face. Without hesitation, he slung his armor off and crawled into the space beside you. "Are ya sure about this?"

"Mhm," you replied sleepily, your arms spreading over his chest as you nestled into him like a log warming a fire. "You're warm."

Wrecker smiled to himself, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he closed his eyes, feeling your steady breathing against his chest.

Tech 💤

The first time:

Sleep was not a common occurrence for Tech, so when he made the rare decision to nestle down for the night, he wasn't too perturbed to find you asleep in his allocated spot.

He paused for a moment, considering whether to wake you, but recalling your exhausted state earlier, he reasoned that you wouldn't have intentionally taken his bunk.

Instead, he quietly observed the peaceful rise and fall of your chest, noting the serenity that graced your features, before silently retreating back to the cockpit where he remained awake for the night once again.

"Tech, why didn't you wake me? I feel terrible," you expressed your guilt that next morning upon discovering that you had accidentally slept in his bunk, leaving him to forego his own rest.

"That is not necessary. You were tired, and I can always keep my mind occupied with tasks or reading intel," he replied in his usual composed manner, peering at you over his datapad. "I shall assume this was a one-time occurrence, and my bunk shall be my own again tonight."

“Yes, of course," you nodded, your expression reflecting genuine concern as you offered another apology before preparing for the demanding day ahead. Despite Tech's assurances, the weight of your unintended intrusion lingered.

The second time:

It just so happened to be the next night that you found yourself once again interrupting Tech's sleep. Moving through the dark ship with heavy eyes and a yawn on your lips, it was no surprise that you once again miscounted where your bunk was and crawled into the wrong one.

Your head hit the pillow, and your eyes shut as the warmth of the bed enveloped you. However, despite the comfort, a small flickering light kept intruding upon your consciousness, prompting your eyes to flutter open. At first, you didn't register the source, but as you turned your head to the right, your eyes widened in realisation: Tech laying there on his datapad, as if nothing had happened.

"Tech, what... am I...?" you began, your voice trailing off as confusion clouded your thoughts.

"In the wrong bunk?" he interjected calmly, settling his datapad down and gazing down at you. His goggles rested atop his head, allowing you to see the brightness of his eyes in the dark. "That is correct."

You sit up, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood over you, and run your hand over your face in frustration. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's up with me.”

Tech raises a single brow, his expression softened with genuine concern. "Perhaps in the morning, I should run some tests if you will allow me?" he suggests softly, his voice carrying a hint of worry. "But for now, I suggest you get some sleep."

Nodding in agreement, you reluctantly pull the blanket off your body, preparing to retreat to your own bunk. However, before you can make your escape, Tech's hand gently rests on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

"You are free to continue sleeping in my bunk tonight if you find it comfortable," he offers unexpectedly, his gesture of kindness catching you off guard.

"What, really?" you respond, turning to face him, searching his eyes for confirmation.

With a nod, Tech reclines back and retrieves his datapad. "Yes, really. I do not mind."

"But what if I keep you awake again?" you voice your concern.

"Do not worry about me," he reassures softly, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now, get some rest before I give you a lecture about the benefits of getting sleep."

You chuckle softly at his remark before settling, finding comfort in his understanding demeanor. As you prepare to drift off into slumber, you can't help but feel thankful for Tech's compassion and generosity.

In the quiet of the night, you woke up only once, feeling Tech's arm drape gently across your body. Yet, instead of feeling unsettled, you found comfort in his presence.

Crosshair 💤

The first time:

As you prepared to settle in for the night after a long day, exhaustion clouded your judgment, leading you to absentmindedly crawl into a bunk without much thought. However, your relaxation was short-lived as you were startled by a gravelly voice beside you.

"What are you doing?" The abrupt question made you jump, and you inadvertently knocked your head against the top of the bunk in surprise.

"What am I doing? What the kriff are you doing?" you retorted in annoyance, rubbing your sore head as Crosshair sat up beside you, his expression stern in the dim light.

"I'll think you'll find this is my bunk," he hissed, his sharp gaze piercing through the darkness. As you glanced across the room, you realised your mistake—the bunk you were in wasn't yours.

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh. Now get out before I drag you out," he threatened, though you could tell it was more playful than serious.

"Alright, alright, keep your hair on," you sighed as you obediently crawled out of his bunk, feeling the absence of warmth as you departed.

Crosshair grumbled under his breath and rolled back onto his side to sleep, while you mentally chided yourself for the blunder, making sure you never accidentally try to sleep in his bunk again.

The second time:

You're exhausted, your head throbbing with the relentless ache of sleep deprivation from the past few days, and you've reached the point where you don't care where you sleep anymore. And that includes Crosshair's bunk.

As you settle down on the edge of his bunk, the closest one available, you feel the weight of his gaze on your back, following your movements as you swing your legs around and lay down. "What are you doing?" his voice cuts through the silence, tinged with irritation.

You don't reply, simply closing your eyes as you allow the fatigue to wash over you, hoping for a moment's respite.

"This is my bunk," he asserts firmly, his agitation evident, but as you remain silent, his annoyance shifts to confusion.

"Are you... alright?" he inquires, concern creeping into his voice.

You shake your head softly, and you hear him sigh, but he doesn't press you further. Nor does he demand that you leave.

As sleep begins to claim you, Crosshair remains awake for a while, his thoughts swirling. In his mind, he tells himself that this is a one-time occurrence.

Yet, if you're upset and in need of somewhere to rest for a while, he doesn't mind if you sleep next to him again. After all, it turns out to be the best sleep he's had in a while too.

Masterlist

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417@eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex x @jesseeka @theroguesully y @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97@staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans s @nunanuggets s @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 7 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @green-alm0nd @thiswitchloves9904

#the bad batch HCs #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #echo x reader #tech x reader #Hunter x reader #Wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #tbb #nahoney22 writes

[ssahotchnerr]

I’m not sure if you’re still taking soft hotch requests but imagine hotch coming home late and you had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him! Lots of cuddles and kisses because he accidentally wakes you up even though he’s trying not too

kisses at 3 am

WHY is this not my life cw; all fluff with a teeny touch of angst

boarding now. should be home around 3. see you soon, love you.

aaron's text caused your heart to skip a beat, a giddiness filling you from head to toe as butterflies erupted in your stomach. finally.

a case has kept him away from you, and notably the longest he's had in a while. you've been greatly spoiled recently, a case typically not lasting more than four days at a time. or they've even been somewhat local, allowing him to come home at night. but that was not the present scenario; aaron a few states away, and you haven't seen him in close to ten days.

with jack already asleep in his room down the hall, you curled up on the couch, set on staying up. you put a movie on to keep you company, and began counting down the minutes until you heard the familiar sound of aaron's key hitting the doorknob, announcing his arrival home and ultimately allowing you to throw yourself into his arms. and once you were in them, you didn't plan on letting go.

but as determined as you were, you vaguely could feel yourself nodding off. you had a long day at work, haven't been sleeping too soundly with aaron's absence, and you were exhausted. you put up a fight, urging and forcing your eyes to stay open despite the constant droop, needing to see aaron after being apart for far too long. but you sadly made the mistake of laying down, in search of a more comfortable position, so you succumbed to sleep involuntarily.

when aaron opened the door, at half past three, he was met with your sleeping form sprawled out on the couch, the ending credits of your (second) movie rolling on the screen illuminated in front of you.

a soft smile tugged at aaron's lips at the visual. the whole time he was away, all he could picture was coming home and seeing you. the texts throughout the day, the occasional late calls, made time away more manageable, but it was still painful. they made him feel like you were just within reach, that he could simply reach out and you'd be right there, that you could be in his arms and he could kiss you senseless. but the realization, or reality of the distance between, only produced a larger pit to form in his stomach.

it also filled him with a feeling he couldn't quite describe, having someone waiting for him to come home - someone eager to see him. after the divorce with haley, aaron felt like love was forever behind him - that he didn't deserve love somehow, anymore - but you've changed his perspective on everything. he was softer, lighter, more perceptive because of you. you've opened his eyes in more ways than he thought possible.

once the door was locked behind him, aaron placed his go-bag down besides the coat closet as quietly as he could manage. he then kicked off his shoes, removed both his suit jacket and tie, and placed them neatly on a nearby chair.

after, first, checking on jack - he grabbed the tv remote off the arm of the couch beside your head, clicking it off and submitting the room to darkness. he then carefully slid onto the couch next to you, wrapping an arm securely around your waist and scooting his body as close to yours as it possibly could be.

a wave of peace immediately rushed through his body at your contact, all the lingering stress he's felt the past few days disappearing in seconds. he buried his face into your neck, placing a soft kiss on the skin he found. he didn't stop there either, giving you multiple - on your neck, jaw, brushing his lips anywhere he could reach.

in result you stirred, your shoulders squaring as you stretched briefly as you began to awake. eyes still closed, your brows crumpled into small confusion at the sudden arousal, still overtaken by the deep depths of sleep.

"it's just me, sweetheart." aaron whispered, placing another chaste kiss on your neck. his head laid onto your shoulder, his hand rubbing your hip gently. "go back to sleep."

subconsciously, you recognized his voice; your body relaxing as you melted into him and back into the couch, a soft, content exhale escaping you as you began to reenter sleep.

and subconsciously needing to be closer, your body turned, positioning yourself so your back was to his front, burrowing back against him. again, aaron's face fell into the crook of your neck, his warm breath as he nestled against you. his hand slipped under your shirt to rest on your abdomen, the lull of his thumb brushing your skin guiding him to sleep not long after you.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you

[undercoverpena]

2. lemon twist

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter two of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.4k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] meet cute, flirting. fluff. flirting in person and over IG. frankie being a single!dad to a son. frankie gives reader/you a nickname (paint related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: thank you so much for all the love on chapter one, and the bonus graphic. I'm so happy to bring you chapter two! also, WE'RE POSTING WEEKLY BABIESSS

prev chapter | frankie's ig

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

A soft, melodic tune pulls you into the land of the living, aware of the tug of it, and the immediate reluctance you have to leave the comfort of your dreams.

Your hand hesitates, reluctant to emerge from under the snug warmth of your sheets before your fingers are tapping and searching, all sluggish with sleep, groping blindly as it crawls against the wooden top of your bedside table. It's only when your fingertips connect with the screen does the world fall into silence.

Nothingness. Stillness. Peace.

The perfect environment for your mind to come to itself as you slowly open your lashes, raising a balled-up fist to rub slumber away, as your gaze meets streams of light rolling in through the breeze-blown curtains.

Then it hits you.

Comes to you in a trickle. Then a flood.

One after the other, memories of last night rush over you. Messages sent and received coming to you, recalling the way you'd tucked a pillow under your chest as your thumbs replied quickly to each incoming DM. Then, you recall the giddiness, how it fluttered through you—how it still remains. Still ever-present and very much thrumming inside of you as you begin to smile.

It remains on your face as you roll out of bed. A brief memory of something he said making you laugh as you wash your face, and another when you brush your teeth.

That feeling stays with you as the sun glistens through your kitchen window. One which adds a glow to the place, making the little smoke stains on the walls and the chips on the kitchen counter seem better, less noticeable—and less irritating.

You smirk as you wrap your hand around your mug—because is it too soon to wish him a good morning? Should you wait for him?

Sighing, rolling your eyes, you land on the dresser you were sprucing up in the place a dining table should be. Your eyes linger on it—teeth picking at the skin on your lip—just as it does so each time you come in this room.

A reminder once again that this place should be a home you’ve been building for years, and not just the last few months. There should be photos on the walls of a relationship playing out alongside family and friends, but those ones placed in between are still just empty.

Like so much of your home.

Taking a sip of your coffee, you drop your stare to the newspaper under the feet of the dresser. The stories were told in black and white splotches over in many shades, dotted around as you tested and checked to see what would make the old, worn thing look like something new. The same thing you’d somehow managed to get delivered through a smile and a sweet, please.

You had been, for so long, undecided on the shade.

Yet, as you gaze upon it now, your imagination begins to weave a vivid portrait. It conjures the image of what it might resemble should you succumb to the shade that's gradually painting itself in imaginary strokes.

Sliding your phone from your pocket, you open up your DMs.

Does butterscotch orange come in a paint type suitable for wood? It does. You at work today? Desperate to see me? Just looking to help someone shift paint they can’t sell. What you looking to paint, Rainy?

Taking another sip of your drink, the warmth kisses your palm similar to the temperature blooming in your cheeks from conversing with him again.

Choosing, instead of words, to snap a photo, knowing it'll be easier, simpler.

Watching it send, the little speech bubble appearing as your mind drifts to the hair above his lip, the facial hair along his jaw—the little patch you’d wanted to graze your thumb over.

You think of the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles; when he’d looked pleased to see you in the paint aisle—something akin to a modern-day meet cute you see on the TV.

You coming in today? If I can… gives me something to do this afternoon.

You bite your lip, considering it—whether it’s too forward to make a flirtatious comment. The two of you skirted around it last night, practically river dancing—not quite stepping over, but not quite retreating either.

I’ll get you it ready at the main desk. My hero, Frank.DIY Don’t push it.

It’s the third visit you’ve made, and while you gloss over the paint chippings on the door, you do notice the circular stains on the floor.

They’re brown, smudged slightly at the edges as though someone has, at one time, attempted to clean (whatever it was) quickly after it had appeared. It’s clear they had failed.

Your eyes scan over it, for a moment forgetting anything and everything.

Just existing in today's scent, which happens to be singed wood—chippings of it practically in the air—as the sound of an electrical saw starts up and begins screeching in some distant corner until you hear your name being called.

And it silences everything.

That voice could pull you from anything, you think.

A crisis, your thoughts, a spiral.

You’d heard his voice plenty all last night as you watched videos of him hanging shelves, answering questions likely sent to him on how best to prime a wooden handrail, and still, you weren't sure you were sick of his voice.

That, and DIY had honestly never sounded so hot.

After the shortest walk to the counter, a brief hello, a grin you wish you could try and smother a touch, you’re leaning on the counter. His eyes focused on you, watching every move you make as though looking anywhere else would be a crime.

“You got a Sharpie there?”

Frowning, you feel you can breathe easier when his eyes drop to the counter—rustling around the till area as you rest your elbow.

“Because I forgot mine and I think I should ask for a signature this time.”

Pausing, he slowly lifts his chin, then eyes. “Funny.”

Shrugging, you grin, watching him ring up the tin—occasionally smirking to himself, before shaking his head as you pay, your phone vibrating on the counter that you continue to ignore.

“You gonna be alright with that?”

Scrunching your nose, you pocket your phone and tilt the can on the counter. “Painting a dresser or carrying this to my car?”

Something sparkles in his eyes, a little shimmer. His mouth opening, likely ready to spill nothing but charm and flirtation again, when another voice cuts through—one gruffer, more tinged in age.

“Francisco, what you d—oh, I see.”

Your smile remains, even as you stare up at the older man—the one with wiry whites and spotted greys you’d seen sitting behind the counter on the day you left to get coffee with Francisco.

It’s notable, how smaller, and thinner the older man is—how he moves like he’s pained by each step until he slumps into a chair and puts on the brightest and biggest of smiles before offering his hand.

“The name’s Harry.”

You look at it, only briefly, flicking your eyes to Frankie who looks like he’s wishing the earth would open up at his feet and swallow him whole. A somewhat twisted, forced blank expression and the mildest of eye rolls follow when your hand slips inside Harry’s, offering your name.

“Thought it was Harold,” Frankie says, rather bitterly.

“You have to call me Harold, but she can call me Harry.”

Smirking, you bite your tongue, rolling your lips as you smooth down your blouse—trying not to make any more eye contact with the man you’d really come to see.

Sliding the paint closer to you, you offer a softer smile, one that is nothing short of kind. “It was lovely to meet you Harry, and I’ll see—“

“—Rainy.”

His voice cut through as the can slid from the counter, the sudden acknowledgement of the weight showing—likely scorched across your face as your arm drags down, shoulder going with it, just about saving it from the ground.

It’s only as you look up, do you find Frankie half over the counter, spotting the key rings and cart tokens rolling around the floor—the stand on its axis from his sudden movement.

So, is Rainy my name now?

You caught that?

I did 😏

I wasn’t thinking.

I have to ask.

Here we go.

Do you always wear the hat or is it a Frank.DIY thing? And is it Frank or Frankie or the newly learnt Francisco?

Whats wrong with my hat? And Frankie and Morales were taken.

Morales your surname? I feel I’ve hit a sore spot.

Yes. And you have but you can make it better.

How?

Meeting me for a very boring lunch this week.

You’re really twisting my arm. Which is mean. You saw the stress my shoulder had to endure today.

I tried to warn you. I’ll let you bring your Pinterest board and your saved Reels.

I fear you just want me for my organisational inspiration.

Can’t help you decide if I’m the man for your project if I don’t know what you’re after.

Fair, I guess I can meet you for a business lunch.

Would you be more into meeting me for lunch if it wasn’t a business lunch?

It depends on what kind of lunch we’re talking about.

I’m very badly trying to ask you out on a date.

Oh, that’s what you’re trying to do.

Unless I’ve read this wrong.

Nope, read it perfectly. I guess I have to confess to you that I really would love to go on a brunch date with you, Francisco.

Lunch date. Let’s not get too romantic. Don’t want you to fall head over heels and visit where I work twice in two days.

Has Harold told you how hilarious you are?

It’s nice—the place he’s chosen.

All washed in bright white, yellow splashes and pastel accents. Plants adorn as much of the walls and ceilings as humanly possible, with guitar-infused music softly playing as the door clicks into place behind you.

It's so nice, in fact, you almost want to live here. To spend an infinite amount of time brushing your thumb over the leaves to see which ones are real and which ones are very good fakes. So pretty that it’s the kind of place that if you weren’t looking for him at a table, you’d snap a photo of it all and send it to a friend.

But, as soon as your eyes land on him, he's the only photo you want to take.

White t-shirt, with a dark shirt thrown over the top, still very much all broad-shouldered and wide chest as he smooths his hand down as he stands.

The hat, one that you'd assumed would be a staple, is all but gone, curls at odd angles as though his fingers have been teasing them—tugging and pulling as the ends slightly frizz—as he moves around the table when you approach.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he grins, hesitancy thrumming before he must question himself, snaps himself back into place from dragging his eyes up and down you.

Then, he’s moving, gently—enough time to register he’s moving to hug you, and plenty of time to politely decline.

But you don’t.

Allowing his hand to slide over your waist, delicate, very much cautious and all but respectful, at the same time as his breath flutters over your cheek. You almost turn your chin, wishing to all of a sudden curl into it before his lips graze your skin, lashes fluttering before you feel him moving back.

And, fuck, the scent of his aftershave is still washing over you in thick waves. It does its best to slide up your nose and make a home there as heat rushes to your cheeks.

You almost turn, almost catch the last bit of his lips, eyes focused on his, holding, burning them in as you find yourself unable to tear away from it. Two people, swirling, completely lost in only the other—the rest of the world fading to a muted shade, nothing compared to the hue he exhumes in the centre of brightness and pops of colour.

A thing you turn over, unable to stop yourself from stealing stares as he pulls out your chair, before joining you by sitting opposite.

“Thought this was a safe bet, wasn’t sure what kind of lunch person you were.”

“More of a brunch person, honestly.”

He smirks, flicking his eyes up, even if his head is tilted down at the menu.

“It’s very nice—not been here before.”

A brow arched, he smiles—shyer, the beginning of the dimple appearing before he casts his eyes back down.

“What do you recommend, Francisco?”

You don’t miss his snort, the way he sticks his tongue in his cheek as he gives you that look—one that makes you want to keep flirting and testing him all at once. One that makes you clamp your jean-covered thighs together, but secretly hope he notices you doing so.

If he does, he doesn’t show it. Instead, using his index finger to point at various parts of the menu, recommendations falling, rolling—a shimmer in his eyes at certain parts, that makes it easy when someone comes over to ask for your order.

You suspect it’s a favourite, the one you’ve chosen. Something is written into the way he holds your gaze before he stumbles over his words, practically trips, to say his.

It’s only when you’re alone, do you rest your elbow on the table—the coldness of it rising up your skin, rooting you—as you lean your chin on your palm. “So, do I get my Pinterest boards out now or…?”

“Funny.”

You bite your tongue as you smile, staring, admiring. “So, outside of terrorising a man in his own shop, running an Instagram, what does Francisco DIY do?”

Shaking his head, he takes a sip of his water—a bead collecting, remaining on his lower lip for a ridiculously long time, before the tip of his tongue casts it away, and sweeps it from your view.

“My… my friend fights—like MMA. He stopped for a bit, but now he…”

You wait, let it form—let him decide what it is he wants to tell you and when, and how. Sliding your feet out under the table, stretching as you relax into the chair, finding his eyes fixed, concentrated.

“I go to some of his training.”

“Good at DIY and MMA training? Starting to wonder why you’re single, Butterscotch.”

He laughs, soft, rich. “Just… haven’t been looking to date.”

Nodding, you let out a heavy exhale. “I wasn’t either.”

His lips purse, twitch to the side, a smirk half forming somewhere in his cheeks as he leans over, elbow resting on the table, foot catching yours under the table.

Mirroring you entirely as the two of you just stare. And, normally, it would be weird. Odd. But, it doesn’t feel it. If anything, it makes you want to commit each crease from his smiles, each wisp of hair along his jawline that crawls up his cheeks—the patch that could be traced with your thumb, an almost heart shape left, ready to be stamped with a pair of lips.

Your eyes only pull from it when your drinks arrive—when the moment is broken by the real world—as you lean back, let your eyes move to your server, thanking them as you take your drink. And then, the two of you are alone.

“Might change my Instagram name.”

Brows lifting, he pauses his glass close to his lips. “Oh yeah, what to?”

“Rainier Grey—makes me sound elusive.”

Snorting, he shakes his head, sipping on his water before placing the glass down close to your hand. Fingers brushing against it, a thing which makes your eyes flick over your screen.

“I dare you.”

“You dare me?” you say. “How old are you?”

“A man too old for dares.”

You brush your index finger over the back of his fingers, lingering on it, noticing the way they flex as you do as if battling to take your hand in his.

Even if you’re determined to go halves, Frankie’s insistence beats you.

All ‘Don’t argue with me on this, alright?’ said in a tone deeper, more serious than you'd heard to date. And, it's hard not to let heat lick up your spine at the sound.

Even if he’s giving you kind brown eyes as you hold your hands up in defeat.

Smirking, you watch him pay, spotting the picture in his wallet of a boy with a missing-tooth smile almost as big as the man in front of you.

“Alright Morales, but next time it’s my treat.”

“Next time?”

Smirking, you bite your lower lip as you stand, grabbing your things. “Think you’ve earned it.”

Each step to the door feels heavy, a fluttering in your stomach—a grin that can’t be wiped, barely doused when you say goodbye to the people behind the counter.

It grows wider when he gets the door for you, the cooler, outside air creating a vortex of his aftershave all over again (that you hope finds a way to bury itself into your skin) when he opens it.

It’s odd, almost insane—the giddy way you feel as the two of you walk to your car. His fingers are so close to brushing yours, the distance to your little vehicle becoming shorter and shorter as you desperately wish for another few blocks.

Disappointment flares, trying to scratch out the happiness inside your stomach as you pause at the car, trying to smile, but finding it difficult.

Rubbing the back of his head, you watch him roll his lips. “I had a great time.”

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you nod, “Me too.”

“Won't have to wait long, you've promised me brunch.”

“Think I said I’d pay. But, if you want brunch, I’m down to blow your mind.”

You realise too late, mouth hanging open, the words hitting—landing in his ear as you watch him process them.

It’s sluggish, almost lagging, the way his face lights up, the way his eyes widen and his smile grows into something close to what you had across the small table—not tinged in any way by the upcoming goodbye.

“Well, if that’s—”

“Shut up,” you say, cutting him off, hand ready to push his arm, but you slide it around his waist.

Face close to his, bodies almost flush.

You watch him swallow, how his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he flicks his gaze from eye to eye.

Licking his lips, he smiles. “Can I kiss you?”

The moment you nod, he’s leaning—lips brushing over yours, fingers tightening on his waist as you move with him, all delicate, smooth, downright velvety as your other hand finds his neck. Feels his pulse against your palm, the warmth of him against your skin, before your lips part, deepening it, letting him have more, as much as he wants—

Then, he moves you. His palm meets your car, guiding you back until your spine meets the side of your vehicle, and he leaves another mark of him—thumb and four fingers—in the grunge the city throws at your car.

The other is the one he leaves pressed against your lips, all invisible, sweet and aching. Leaning in, your fingers find purpose on his neck, skating around, teasing a low curl as you lick into his mouth delicately.

All teasing, caressing, the arm around your waist tightening as the two of you remain almost flush against the car.

And it’s dizzying, all unexpected—but then, so is he.

More so, when you part—nose against nose, eyes opening to find his doing the same.

“I should…”

Your fingers slide, wiping his bottom lip before resting it on his chin, nail stroking against the hair there. “Okay.”

“I’d like to,” he begins, slowly stepping back, allowing cooler air to flow between where your bodies were pressed together, “Not wait to see you again—and, help you. With your project.”

Rolling your lips, you smile. “I’d like that too—both of them.”

“Alright.”

“Okay,” you smile. “Let me know.”

Nodding, he steps back up on the curb, hand wiping across his mouth.

You actually changed your handle.

Told you, I don’t back down from a dare

Guess I owe you one.

Can I cash it in at any moment?

As long as it’s appropriate, yes.

There goes my idea of daring you to strip in the shop and make out with a paint tin.

Have to just dream about that one.

Oh, I will Francisco.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy

[imnameimswrld]

╰┈➤ ❝ [𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐚 || 𝗠𝗩𝟭 ꒱꒱

━━ ❪ . . . max x driver!reader ❫

━━ ❪ . . . description : in which a simple can of cherry cola changes the whole dynamic of a pair of rivals relationship ; ❫

━━ ❪ . . . rivals-to-lovers imagine ❫

━━ ❪ disclaimers : fluff, kissing ❫

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

past...

"Hey Max, could you grab me-"

"The day I bring you a Cherry Cola, L/N, is the day I succumb to your charms," my brows drop at the twinkle in his baby blues that always appears when he knows he pisses me off.

"And that day," his smirk causes an annoyed eye roll to feature in my gaze. "Is not today, Y/n."

🍒 🍒 🍒

present time...

"Hey, where's Y/n ?" Mick all but rushes out to one of the engineers in the Alpha Tauri paddock, Charles right behind him, both boys sporting deep stress lines in their foreheads.

Although highly confused, the engineer still points to the back with his spanner, and in a flash the two boys are sprinting through the ruckus. By the time they shove opens Y/n's door, both are panting, Mick using the door for support as Charles leans against the doorframe beside him.

Tired, but the sight of you, in one piece with a cup Ramen in hand as you lounge on the sofa in your room, rains sweet relief over them.

"Oh merci mon Dieu," the one in red looks up with his hands clasped in thanks, trudging in with a huff as Mick shuts the door behind them.

You furrow your brows and hit pause on the Netflix show playing on your laptop. "Uh...hi ?"

Mick and Charles flank your sides, the former removing your laptop so he could sit a little closer. Their gazes feel strange today, as if inspecting you, trying trying read whatever could be running through your head. It was making you lose you appetite.

"Is there something wrong, guys ?"

"Not sure, you tell us Y/n." Mick counters, tilting his head at you, making you reel back and into your leather couch.

"You guys are being weirder than normal-"

"We hears about the announcement Y/n !" Mick shoots Charles a look, their plan of coaxing the situation out of you now long gone. "You're going to Redbull ?!"

Now your appetite is completely gone.

Setting your half-eaten cup of ramen in your lap, your drag a warm hand through your hair, sighing heavily. You assumed everyone on the grid knows now, instead of just the few people that attending the Redbull meeting just a few minutes ago. The news only hits the public next week, which gives you some time before the heat packs on from fans. Everyone will most probably be stunned since most people thought the person that would be at the current Wordl Champions side would be someone like Alex; who's won more races in their F1 career.

Instead, they chose you. Why, Christian hadn't been all that specific except for "Your potential is a striking quality you possess, Y/n,".

"So what's got your two so worried ?" you ask, a slight accusatory hint to your tone. Not that you'd think they would, they're your best friends, but there's always that underwhelming feeling of the guys on the grid not respecting you as much as they would a man.

"We were worried Max got to you first."

"Thought he would chew you out for going from his rival to his teammate." Charles adds, his fingers sweeping a few strands of your hair from your eyes and behind your ear.

Max...

He's been your rival since your Karting days. Every race you'd be neck-in-neck with him. That only really changed when you joined F1, and since then you've been far behind since his car was just always better. The rivalry turned bitter when he'd rub his success in with smirks and taunts. Then, bouncing from Haas to Alpha Tauri, your chances were looking up. Your car wasn't as fast as Redbull's, but it gave you a fighting chance. Still, you were always just short of a podium, everytime.

But something changed. Last week, you stood on the P3 podium, your first ever in your Formula 1 career, and the cheers... it was all so surreal. In the celebrations of spraying champaign that momentarily hindered your vision as chunks of droplets coated your lashes, you felt a pair of strong arms round your waist and spin your around. Charles laugh reached your ears and you joined, before he set you down and pulled you in for another tight embrace.

It was then, for the first time ever, that you caught sight of a smile on Max's face over Char's shoulder. A real smile. And it was for you. You'd never received anything but smirks and verbal jabs, and vis versa really, but a genuine smile ? You could've sworn you imagined it – until later that day, when you were alone in your room in the paddock, toweling your damp, sticky hair. There was a soft knock to your door, and you granted access, still widely attacking your hair with the towel.

"Y/n."

You froze. There was an unrecognizable tone in his voice, not his usual mocking one. Dropping the towel, you stare at the blonde, blue-eyed man in your doorway. Max's eyes flick up, and there's suddenly a humorous glint in them. You then realise how outrageous your hair must've looked.

Bringing a hand up, an embarrassing tint painting your cheeks, you do your best to smooth down the chaos. A strange noise leaves Max's lips, and when your eyes whip to look at him, he's...laughing.

Another thing you've never seen before.

"Uh, earth to Y/n."

A knock following Mick's words pull you from your deep thoughts, and all three of your heads turn to stare at the door.

"Come in."

Slowly, the swings open, the hinges groaning slightly. The doorway reveals a oddly nervous looking Max.

You could feel the boys on yours sides stiffen, and Mick sits forward slightly, his shoulders tense as he stares down Max. It's quiet, no one saying anything, and you take the opportunity to roam your gaze over him. It always annoyed you how drawn to his looks you were. His baby blue eyes always shining in the light, his blonde hair always seeming so soft to touch.

Dropping, you eyes widen at what his hands hold. A soft, almost inaudible gasp leaves your lips.

"Y/n, can we talk, please ?" Max's voice is the softest you've ever heard it. It's impossible to deny.

"Yeah," Mick rounds his head to stare at you the same time Charles does, but you send them both reassuring smiles. Nodding in okay, both boys stand, still very hesitant. You do a better job smiling this time, showing that you had no problem being alone with the Dutch. That seemed to make their shoulders less tough, and slowly, they make the leave. You don't miss the skeptical glare Mick hands Max on his way out.

Once gone, Max closes the door behind him, and you indicate with a hand towards the empty spot next to you. His smile doesn't reach his eyes like that day on the podium, but obliges. The feel of his presence so close makes your breath stutter, and your heart beat just a little faster.

You do your best to meet his gaze, but the glossy red can in his hands just steals all your attention.

Max doesn't seem to know what to say, as if he just came here completely unprepared. His thumb tags softly against the can, and the action allowed you to read the words on the can.

Another gasp, and your gently pulling the can from his hold. Turning the cold can in your hand, you fight back a smile.

Cherry Cola.

You look up, and your breath catches when Max is a lot closer than he was before. His eyes shine with nervous, pupils bouncing between yours, and your parted lips.

"Max..."

His gaze burns into yours at the sound of his name being so softly uttered from your lips. A nervous bundle of your own settles in your stomach, so you break his gaze as you open the can of Cola in your hands. You can feel intense eyes follow your every move, all the way to while you set the can against your lips and tip it for a sip.

The sweet, sugary cherry taste coats your tongue, and a delighted hum sounds in your throat. Max's eyes are fixated on your now wet lips, staring eagerly. You're too afraid to cross that line yourself, and you sit still, silently praying that Max takes that leap for the both of you. He's hesitant, until the urge is just too strong and he can practically smell the cherry on your breath.

He needs a taste.

Your breath gets stolen completely when a pair of soft lips enclose around yours, tongue prodding for entrance in a instant. Wrapped up in all that Max is you grant entrance, and the way his tongue dominates your mouth, tasting everything it has to offer, an involuntary moan escapes.

If it wasn't for the same sound Max let's out, you would've been embarrassed.

Strong hands grasp your cheeks, warm on your skin, and no part of you wants to pull away, until a thought pops into your head. Max's lips are chasing yours when you pull away, the smell of cherries thick in the air between the two of you.

"I thought you hated Cherry Cola."

Max's stares at your lips for a moment, before gazing up into your eyes. The softest look you've ever seen in them now lives there.

"And yet, trust I'll be drinking it more since it'll be reminding me of this moment."

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #lana del rey

[thedomesticanthropologist]

I present to you: at no point in the game is Astarion actually ready for a romantic relationship

Tav is the first person he drank from

The first person he has consensual sex with after 200 years

And he says to them: no one is like you. You're YOU

He genuinely believes that Tav is the *only* person who would be this way, even if it isn't true. He does fall in love with you, he does want you, but I present to you the idea that if things hadn't gone down EXACTLY as they had, Astarion NEVER would have initiated a partnership/romantic relationship for YEARS after escaping Cazador for good.

The man is coded for survival, for self-preservation, and is inherently selfish by nature. It is only because Tav gives selflessly and determinedly reinforces wanting to be with him that he caves in and allows it, but if you try to leave he's thrilled. This is for the best he says, you don't deserve this facade from me he says.

"I don't know how to be with someone even if I want to. I want this to be real but I don't know what real is. I need to not have sex right now"

In act 2, if you break up with him, he agrees with you. He thinks it's the right thing for you because hes not ready. He won't say this unless you initiate a break up but how could he possibly let go of the best thing that's happened to him in his entire undead life? He wouldn't toss out the treasure of you even if he didn't feel ready.

It really does take a patient, calm, supportive Tav to get him in the end, and he DOES want you, I'm not arguing that

I'm arguing that that man is not ready for a committed relationship, doesn't know what a healthy relationship looks like, and in an ideal situation if he thought he had time and options in his life and if he felt safe he would have focused 100% on himself first for a VERY long time.

The tadpoles, the adventure, the pressures of the battles, the fighting the revenge the ascension and the ritual he has to fight or succumb to the fact that the sunlight is gonna nerf him again- all of this contributes to the perfect scene where Tav gets him right "out the gate", first by being a mark and a target and then by simply *not breaking it off with him*

And yes he's in love to the best of his ability to know what love is at this point

And yes he wants you very much

But the man is going through the biggest whiplash of his life and I can say with confidence that he's not... *Ready*. And after all is said and done, Tav will have to continue to be patient with many things with him. There are still a lot of hurdles. He may be with them for a long time before he wakes up one day and realizes, really really realizes, that he's ready.

The power dynamics are off, they're imbalanced. How could he say no to a perfect mark that gives him everything ? Blood, sex, waits when sex is off the table, never breaks up with him never leaves no matter how he rails against them? He can't. He won't, and he doesn't want to, but that doesnt make him emotionally ready for what a genuine relationship is.

He has to learn it, with you, over time, but I don't think he'd jump into learning that and going for it and seeing it as worth it if the situation were in any way different

Without the perfect storm of events, I don't see Astarion jumping into "commited relationship" to be clear, I'm not saying that he isn't capable of feelings or doesn't want tav it's just

It doesn't *seem* to match his character or his struggles to me. For a man that is completely self serving, he accidentally catches feels and then doesn't have the strength to cut you loose even though his act 2 confession is practically him asking you to leave him. If you take the Araj route in particular, he VERY plainly lays his shitty behaviour on the table as if daring you to punish him for it... Or maybe just expecting.

In his spontaneous scene it's softer, it's I love you but I don't know how to do this. And still if you say "I don't think you're ready to be in a relationship" he immediately agrees. In act 3, if you've stuck to him the whole time like glue, he never wants to let you go. Again, I think this level of connection is impossibly rare and everything had to happen as it did to get you there, but the power balance is off still. He says partner, equal, and he wants that. And he WILL get there

But he not only has to struggle with his past, his issues, his trauma, he has to struggle with the power imabalance that you're his Savior. YOU defeated Cazador. YOU protected him in camp and didn't stake him on sight. YOU fed him from thinking creatures for the first time. YOU are one of "a very few select people" who have had sex with him and not been slaughtered immediately afterwards.

You're everything to him

And by the end of the game you already see him trying to shift that power imabalance because HE SEES IT. If you say you'll protect him he WINCES and disagrees, he doesn't want that. He doesn't want to be below you, but he sees himself that way anyway. And to me, that's the sign that he wasn't ready, he still isn't ready,

But he will be, one day. And I think that makes it a better written romance than thousands I've read, because it's not perfect. There's grey areas. There's things that can make you uncomfortable. There's parts of it that aren't healthy and won't be for a while. Who knows how long until he feels like he's your equal? Until he feels like this relationship is something he ever would have chosen if things were different?

But he does choose you. He does. He wants you. He'd just never have gotten the chance to if it hadn't been "right place right time" imho

#its giving star crossed lovers #its giving grey area #its giving long term trauma #its giving good fucking writing #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion romance

[faeryarchives]

✧˚ · . happy birthday (malleus draconia x reader)

summary: from what malleus understood, birthdays are supposed to be celebrated merrily with family and friends. that is why the fae was so happy to receive your invitation for your special day, but why did he find you alone and crying under the night sky?

warnings: mild angst + slight ooc (its been a loooong time since i wrote for twst 😭)

note: i hope u guys will enjoy and if you ever experienced something like this i am so sorry 🫂 + i am late for malleus birthday so i wrote for twst en 2nd anniv instead hihi

recent fics: in sickness and in health & so what are we? & when your hopeless streamer gets a girlfriend (ace x reader)

for faes, time is a fleeting moment. having to watch others age and wither away, it was no surprise that malleus finds them so fragile and consistently succumb to age. and yet, malleus still discovers them to be fascinating - especially after he met you.

"are you a visitor? that's surprising. i am (name), the housewarden of the ramshackle dorm. sorry if you want to visit. our place is a little rundown right now, but how can i help you?" 

the peculiar house warden of the ramshackle dorm who never seems to be afraid while being in his presence and even asks him to be his friend. having someone other than his found family in diasomnia, he never thought he would get to learn new things after living for so long.

"oh yeah, i remember now. mal, can you come the day after tomorrow?"

"hmm? i can come here every day if you want, treasure. but why the specific date?" he watched as you became silent momentarily as if hesitating to say something before giving him your usual smile, sending butterflies raging again in his stomach. 

"nothing, i just want to celebrate my birthday with you."

imagine how he was on cloud nine after you invited him on your special day! from what malleus understood, birthdays are supposed to be celebrated merrily with family and friends. and he is very determined to make his gift the best you can get. and a determined malleus draconia won't stop finding a way to make you the happiest one on that day.

"do you think they would like this?" 

"having to receive a gift from you, my liege, is already a blessing!" sebek sobbed with tears comically running down his face, mumbling how he envied you for having the chance to receive a gift from the malleus draconia.

"oh malleus, i am sure little bat would love it." lilia chuckled, seeing the fae panicking over his present, even after spending two whole days and nights to find the perfect one to give you. 

silver, who was watching it all unfold, had a somber expression before sighing deeply. "father is right. i noticed how (name) looked like they were in low spirits earlier, i'm sure it will cheer them up." that seemed to stop malleus in his tracks; you were sad on your special day?

"silver, can you explain more about that?"

"it seems like they were having a bad day; when i greeted them a happy birthday, they looked happy for a moment before walking away looking glum."

that seemed to dampen the mood in the room, not knowing what to say. one look at his watch, lilia couldn't help but gasp in horror. 

"if you spend more time here, you will miss the opportunity to make little bat happy on their special day."

"that would be horrible. i must leave immediately!" in an instant, the dragon fae disappeared, leaving traces of green fireflies in his wake. seeing how rushed he went out, lilia couldn't help but let out a loving sigh.

"ah, young love!"

the fae appeared in his usual spot at the massive tree by your dorm, expecting to hear cheers and singing of happy birthday for you because, according to lilia, birthday celebrations are usually loud. but to his surprise, he was met with silence and a seemingly empty building.

"...oh? has the party not started yet? or is it finished?" 

malleus looks around to find any signs of you or your friends - a pout forming on his lips, feeling sad that he might have missed your birthday celebration. that is, until he passed by the field you two always walked by during your night trips. that is when he finally found you, facing the flower field while curling yourself into a ball. from where he was standing, he could see your figure shake, followed by the sound of your voice

'(name)...?'

"i just want to feel special just one time..." he watches as you try wiping the tears rolling continuously down your face but to no avail, echoes of your cries being carried away by the wind. malleus knew he should do something but couldn't bring himself to move from his spot.

because it is the first time he has ever seen you cry. 

"... i already knew i wasn't worth anyone's time," you mumbled and sighed deeply. "i am an adult now. i shouldn't feel this way. but why..." you didn't even get the chance to finish as your voice cracked at the end, lips trembling in an attempt to stop the sobs from coming out, but it was as if your body had another plan and let it all out. 

"why am i so easy to forget? haven't i done enough to be loved?" looking at the flower field ahead of you, despite the tears blurring your vision, you couldn't help but laugh. "am i that so isolated that i am talking to flowers now?"

the wind picked up for a moment before someone put their blazer around you, followed by a voice you knew all too well. "they are a wonderful companion too."

"m-mal! how long have you been standing there?" in a panic, you start to wipe your face with your sleeve and avoid eye contact with the fae, covering your face with your hands as you nervously laugh. before you could speak, cold yet gentle hands found their way to your hands. this caused you to turn your head to look straight at malleus, who was looking at you with his face filled with worry, his eyes reflecting the turmoil of his thoughts.

"give me names." you blink at the sudden statement, confused.

"what?"

"give me the names of those who made you sad today. how dare they make you cry?!" the harsh wind stirred up the fallen leaves, clouds covering the starry night as malleus frowned, his hands getting tighter and tighter as the moments passed by. one closer look at your features and he could tell you've been crying for a while now, making him angrier. 

you were silent for a moment, shadows covering your eyes after, before wrapping your arms around him, burying your head into his chest. malleus was confused. the world stopped moving around him - his heightened hearing focused on your breathing and the sound of... laughter?

"... (name)?" hesitantly, he raised his arms before slowly wrapping them around you, hearing a hum of approval. the two of you stayed in each other's arms for a minute before you broke the hug and malleus could see you looking at him.

"thank you for coming. sorry if you had to see me that way." you turn to look over your dorm and shake your head disappointedly. "i thought you would also forget my birthday. i didn't expect you to come." playing with your hands nervously and taking a deep breath, you glanced him in the eye and gave him a strained smile.

"no one remembered my birthday until sebek and silver greeted me. i thought grim, and the others were acting like they didn't know; maybe they were going to surprise me, that's all!" malleus stayed silent, watching as you tried holding back your tears while telling your story. 

"i would never expect their genuine shock after hearing it." remembering the look on your friends' faces was enough for you to feel the raw emotions over again. "it might sound petty, but i just expected better, you know?" you sniffled. 

"whenever someone in the group celebrates their birthday, they remember every detail and all; the effort is there and everything. but when it comes to me, all effort disappears." you turn to malleus, and everything breaks down.

"all i ask is to feel special just this once. for people to see me as me - not the magicless human or the one who came from another world. is it hard for anyone to see me as their friend?" feeling the strength in your legs disappearing, you would almost fall to the ground if not for malleus catching you at the last minute.

the dragon fae held your hand in his, grasping it as your hand was made of glass. "didn't you invite them like you've done with me?" even though he was angry at your friends, malleus held back the voices in his head as he remembered about you talking about them so proudly.

"i did. but there were so many activities and exams for us first years this week."

"but being busy shouldn't be an excuse." he stopped before going on after finding you listening to him. "human friendship still confuses me, but the fact that they are not exerting the same effort they have to others - aren't you being... what do they call? taken for granted?" judging from the look on your face, he knew he had hit a sore spot.

"..."

"but that doesn't mean you should see yourself as someone lacking. you are worth so much love, my treasure." he runs his hand over your cheek before grabbing his gift and handing it to you. "i know how you treasure them, and how much they adore you too. maybe they are not still used to it but never think of yourself as the problem." you opened the box and stood unblinking, trying to process what you just received before staring back at malleus, demanding an explanation.

"i don't think i deserve this." inside the box was a beautiful emerald necklace. the enchanting green emerald reminds you the same way you would get lost in Malleus' eyes.

"nonsense. this is my gift to you, something that holds my magic to protect you whenever i am not around. without you, i don't think i would ever learn the joys of being friends with you as well as falling in love." he then wrapped the necklace around your neck, feeling satisfied with how it looked on you. he knelt down and took your hand in his, giving a kiss on the back of yours before staring back at you.

"happy birthday, my treasure. sorry i am late with my greetings. i was looking for the perfect gift-" without wasting another moment, you crouched down. you shared another hug with the fae, burying your head into his shoulder. he could still feel your body shaking not from sadness but joy. his hands wrapped around your back and gave you small rubs, attempting to soothe you.

"you silly dragon, just your presence is enough for me."

"is that so?" he hummed, letting your body relax into his.

"...thank you mal."

"anything for you, dear."

bonus!

heartslabyul, savannaclaw, octavinelle, scarabia, pomefior and ignihyde gang hiding in the bush to surprise you but ended up hearing everything you just said:...

silver looking at the big group, sighing: you guys messed up big time

lilia: hush they are about to kis-

sebek: WAKA - SAMAAAAAAAA

grim: NOOOOO MY HENCHHUMAN I AM SO SORRYYYYYY IT WAS ACE AND DEUCE'S IDEA!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst imagines #twst scenarios #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #faeryarchives #a.diasomnia

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

hii can u maybe do like all the pogues are stuck on poguelandia and the reader is sarahs sister (and the reader isn’t necessarily a pogue like sarah) but the reader had been secretly hooking up with jj before everything happened, and they decide to make it official after the pogues see them doing a lil sum sum on poguelandia

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Unlike your sister, you didn’t adapt easily to the island life. You were sick of eating coconut and fish for every meal, sick of sleeping on mats made of braided leaves, sick of feeling dirty and having tangles in your hair.

You were a Kook to the bones. You loved and missed the comfort of your old life — and everything in-between…including your little affair with JJ Maybank.

Every Tuesday afternoon, after working on the Carroway’s boat, he would sneak to Tannyhill for a good time. The house was always empty at this hour, so it was perfect. He was your little secret, and you were his.

On the island, the secret was more difficult to protect. You tried to put an act around the others, picking small fights and make it look like you were annoyed by JJ when in reality you were burning with desire for him more and more each day.

‘’We can’t continue our…thing on the island. It’s too risky to get caught,’’ you had resonated with JJ a few days after arriving on Poguelandia.

But your desires became too much to ignore and you both succumbed to the temptation and started playing with fire.

Back pressed against a tree, JJ's mouth was on yours, tongues playing together as his hands danced all over your body as moaned into his mouth. He pulled at your small top, easily exposing your breasts to the island air, and rolled your nipple between his fingers.

You broke the kiss and your head fell back against the tree. ‘’Mmh, J…’’

JJ smirked and kept playing with your nipple. ‘’I’ve missed this,’’ he said before attaching his mouth to your neck, the new placement of his mouth adding to your pleasure.

Your hands found the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his blond hair as you hooked a leg to his thigh, needing more. ‘’Please don’t stop.’’

JJ chuckled as he moved a little higher, nipping your earlobe. ‘’Wasn’t planning on it, princess.’’

The corner of your lips turned into a smile, the silly banter between you and him ever present. Kook Princess. That’s what JJ called you back in Kildare. You hated it and he knew it, so he kept calling you that just to see the annoyed look on your face.

One of your hands slipped from JJ’s hair to slide down his neck and chest to reach the button of his shorts, but the crack of a branch and a shocked ‘holy shit’ snapped you and JJ out of your bubble. You both turned, your faces mimicking a deer caught in headlights, and saw Pope staring right back at you.

JJ tried to play it off, but no words were coming out of his mouth. ‘’Pope, I—’’

‘’Holy shit,’’ Pope repeated while you fumbled to pull your clothes properly and cover yourself.

Pope didn’t say anything to the others, but your red face and the way you and Pope avoided each other’s eyes that evening gave away that you were hiding something.

‘’What’s the weird thing between you and Y/N?’’ John B. asked during dinner, sensing the awkwardness between you and Pope.

The latter shook his head and denied. ‘’There’s nothing weird.’’

‘’Bullshit,’’ Kiara called out, not believing him. ‘’You used to sit together at dinners, but now you’re sitting opposite sides and can’t look at each other.’’

‘’Kie is right,’’ Sarah added, taking a bite of coconut. ‘’You’ve been acting like this since you came back from picking wood.’’

Keeping secrets was unfortunately not Pope's fort. He was a terrible liar, too. You could see it on his face when he was hiding something and that was not good for your and JJ's secret. 

He gave you an apologetic look and sighed. ‘’I may have walked in on something I was not supposed to see.’’

You released a relieved breath. Pope's answer was vague enough not not give your secret away, which was good for you and JJ, but it was not enough to satisfy the others. They wanted more. 

‘’Could you be less specific?’’ Kiara said. 

Sarah’s eyes shifted to you and caught you looking at JJ, who was smirking down while eating his fish. ‘’Oh my god.’’ Everyone turned to Sarah, but her eyes remained on you and the blond she grew to call a friend. ‘’JJ?! No way!’’ She covered her mouth, shocked by the news.

Pope looked down, mumbling something. ‘’They weren’t just making out…’’

You groaned and covered your flushed face. 

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx  @sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue  @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker​

 All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj outer banks #outer banks #outer banks imagine

[dee-writes-smut]

DAFFODILS (Chapter One)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY The Spring Court has gone to shit, and while you would normally be able to tolerate it, the new discovery that you were pregnant pushes you to the gates of The Autumn Court and unknowingly into Eris' arms.

CONTENT WARNINGS pregnancy, Eris being a slight douche (you know how it is yall), violence (reader is kicked in the stomach), and mentions of Tampon (Tamlin).

AUTHORS NOTE who's excited for the kick-off of yet another series? I am! Of course, I had to start an Eris series, I love him too much not to! Strap in, darlings, I have a feeling this is going to be a long one.

The once vibrant Spring court had gone to shit, a shadow of its former glory. Tamlin, the once revered and compassionate High Lord, had vanished, abandoning his people to suffer in the decay his negligence had allowed to fester.

Amid the desolation, there were attempts to salvage what remained of the Spring Court. Lucien's name surfaced as one who strove to preserve our home. I recall his desperate sacrifice on Calanmai, offering himself to Ianthe in a futile bid to rescue us. He still occasionally visits, perhaps clinging to a hope that he might stumble upon signs of revival, our High Lord restored to his former benevolence. Yet each return only reinforces the stark reality of our decline, leaving him unsurprised by the sight of our dwindling realm.

And now, here I stand, just beyond the borders of the Autumn Court, clad in nothing but the ragged remnants of my escape, imploring the impassive sentries to grant me sanctuary within their walls. They offer no response, their stoic countenances unmoved as I plead and weep at their feet.

In my disheveled state, I must present a pitiful sight—my attire threadbare and stained, my once-glamorous countenance marred by streaks of dirt and smudged cosmetics, my limbs adorned with bruises like macabre adornments.

As I teeter on the brink of desperation, a voice cuts through the stillness, emerging from the depths of the forest to my right. The guards snap to attention at its sound, their posture stiffening even further, if such a thing were possible, in deference to its commanding presence.

"What is the meaning of this?" The voice, smooth as silk and sharp as a blade, belonged to a man with cascading locks of fiery hair, who strode forth from the underbrush with an air of regal authority.

Gods, he was a vision to behold. Despite the earthy stains marring his attire and the tousled state of his tunic sleeves, he exuded an otherworldly allure.

"A mere denizen of the Spring Court, attempting to beg her way into our domain, my lord," one of the guards grumbled, offering a curt bow before callously nudging me aside with his boot. I winced as the blow landed squarely in my stomach.

"And what, pray tell, do you think you are doing, you imbecile!" The fiery-haired man's voice dripped with disdain as he strode forward, confronting the offending guard with palpable fury. "Can you not discern her condition, you fool? She carries life within her."

My heart lurched as I instinctively cradled my abdomen, a protective gesture born of maternal instinct. Though every fiber of my being yearned to retaliate against the guard's callousness, I forced myself to breathe deeply, refusing to succumb to the animalistic urges that society expected of Spring Court members in these desperate times.

"Are you alright?" the man inquired, his amber eyes ablaze with a captivating mix of concern and authority, their gaze so intense that it stole the very air from my lungs.

"I'm… I'm fine," I managed to utter, brushing aside the tangled strands of hair obscuring my face and inhaling deeply to steady my frayed nerves.

"I must apologize for the behavior of my soldier. Rest assured, appropriate measures will be taken, my lady," the man assured me, his smile radiant as he inclined his head with graceful deference. His charm nearly brought a wry laugh to my lips.

"No need for such formalities," I replied weakly, the weight of my displaced status as a refugee gnawing at my throat like a persistent ache. But I steeled myself with the thought of my unborn child, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. "I am no longer a lady—well, not in the traditional sense, anyway."

"How so?" the man persisted, his expression a blend of curiosity and genuine concern, prompting me to draw my arms tighter around myself.

"I find it quite audacious for someone whose name I don't even know to ask such personal questions," I retorted, feigning a hint of indignation that rang hollow even to my own ears.

"Fair point," he conceded with a charming grin, though his adherence to formality still grated on my nerves. "Allow me to rectify that oversight. My name is Eris. Eris Vanserra, Heir to the Autumn Court," he declared, and I felt a strange mixture of relief and weariness wash over me at his introduction.

Eris. Lucien had spoken sparingly of his older brother during his time in the Spring Court, but whenever he did, a profound sense of affection tinged with melancholy colored his words. I shook myself from my reverie, extending a hand in a gesture of polite acknowledgement as I reciprocated with my own name. Eris repeated my name softly, testing it on his tongue, and my heart twinged at the striking resemblance in mannerism between him and Lucien, one so distant yet familiar, the other painfully close.

"Now," Eris began, his hands making a smooth, sweeping gesture that hinted at his readiness to delve deeper into the matter at hand, "what brings you to the borders of the Autumn Court, my lady?"

"The Spring Court is…" My voice faltered, and I let out a weary sigh, my hand instinctively resting on my still-flat stomach for comfort.

"It's gone to shit," he finished for me, his smirk sharp but not unkind.

"Well, I wouldn't have phrased it quite so bluntly, but yes," I responded, my fingers tracing small circles over my abdomen. "That place and its ruler are no fit environment for a child. Considering the proximity of your court, I was hoping I might find a new beginning here."

"What about the father?" Eris inquired, one eyebrow—a mirror image of Lucien's—arching skeptically.

I clear my throat awkwardly and look at my well-worn shoes. How does one tell the Heir to the Autumn Court that they are pregnant with his youngest brother's babe? How does one also explain how he is mated to another female, that they knew as soon as that brother found out about said babe, he would give up all hope to find his true mate in order to be there for his child?

"Not in the picture," I manage to say, my voice faltering slightly as I reach up to scratch the back of my neck, a gesture betraying my discomfort.

Eris hums, a low, thoughtful sound that vibrates with suspicion, his striking eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes my uneasy demeanor. The weight of his gaze feels like it could peel back the layers of my hastily constructed defenses, compelling me to confront truths I'd rather leave unspoken. Eris's scrutinizing gaze doesn't waver, and the silence stretches taut between us like a bowstring. "Not in the picture," he echoes thoughtfully, each word heavy with the promise of unasked questions.

I nod, feeling the weight of the moment settling around us. The air in the forest seems to hold its breath, the usual whispers of leaves and distant calls of woodland creatures falling into a hushed reverence. "And you must understand, my lord, that my child is my utmost priority," I assert with unwavering resolve, emphasizing his title with a hint of disdain, as if challenging the very foundations of our unequal stations.

The guards stationed behind me draw in sharp, anticipatory breaths, seemingly prepared for their lord to mete out swift retribution for my boldness. I steel myself against the expected blow, a silent rehearsal of defiance.

Yet, the expected strike does not materialize. Instead, Eris regards me with what could only be described as admiration. His gaze, intense and calculating, appraises me not as a threat, but as a formidable presence in my own right.

"Well, little fox," he begins, his voice carrying a playful undertone that belies the depth of his contemplation. He strokes his chin thoughtfully, his fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as if to physically underline his ponderings. "It appears you've presented quite the compelling argument for yourself here."

The use of "little fox" — a term perhaps meant to denote cunning and resilience — sparks a flicker of amusement within me, mixed with a surge of cautious optimism. His demeanor suggests a blend of challenge and respect, hinting at a dynamic that could evolve beyond mere formalities or supplications. This man before me is not just the heir to a court; he is a strategist weighing his next move.

"You seek shelter for yourself and the babe?" Eris inquires with a hint of slyness, as if to subtly test my resolve, though it's a point I've already made abundantly clear.

"Indeed," I retort sharply, refusing to waver under the weight of his penetrating gaze.

"Then shelter you shall have," he declares, pivoting on his heel to fix the guards with a stern glare. "You will allow her passage," he commands, his tone uncompromising. The guards, obedient to their lord's decree, quickly acquiesce, parting to allow me entry with a mere flick of Eris's wrist.

The heady scent of spices and autumnal freshness assaults my senses as I approach the threshold, beckoning me forward with its tantalizing allure. It's as if the very essence of this court implores me to embrace my true purpose, to seize control of my destiny without hesitation. The boldness of it all catches me off guard, stirring a sense of rebellion that courses through my veins like wildfire.

Pausing at the threshold, I find myself suspended between the tranquility of the wilderness behind me and the vibrant chaos of the court ahead. I hesitate, grappling with the weight of the choices that lie before me.

Eris slows his stride beside me, as if attuned to my uncertainty, and extends his arm—an offering both courteous and suggestive. His demeanor exudes confidence and assurance, as if he expects me to surrender to his lead without question.

But I refuse to yield to the expectations of courtly decorum. Chin held high, I meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, ignoring the disheveled state of my attire as I assert my independence. My feet remain firmly planted, refusing to advance until I am ready, on my own terms.

Eris's arm lingers in the air for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at my defiance. His amber eyes search mine, silently probing, yet beneath the scrutiny, I detect a glimmer of curiosity and… respect.

"I am quite capable of managing on my own," I declare, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within me.

His expression softens, and he nods, gracefully retracting his arm. "As you wish," he concedes, gesturing for me to take the lead as we finally step through the threshold together.

The walk through the streets of Autumn was like stepping into a painting come to life. The cobblestone pathways wound gracefully between quaint buildings adorned with intricate carvings and vibrant splashes of ivy. Overhead, colorful banners fluttered in the gentle breeze, their designs depicting scenes of seasonal splendor and courtly festivities.

Stands and stalls lined the streets, each one a miniature wonderland of treasures waiting to be discovered. From intricately woven tapestries to gleaming trinkets and baubles, the offerings were as diverse as they were captivating. Merchants called out to passersby in melodious voices, their wares displayed with care and pride.

The smells that wafted through the air were a symphony of sensory delights. Spices mingled with the scent of freshly baked bread, their fragrances intermingling in a tantalizing dance that made my mouth water. Roasted chestnuts crackled and popped over open fires, their warm, nutty aroma floating on the breeze alongside the sweet perfume of ripe fruit and fragrant flowers.

Eris's sudden change in direction pulled me from my reverie, my gaze following his lead as we approached a magnificent structure nestled within the heart of the Autumn Court. The Forest House loomed before us, its grandeur and mystique commanding attention as we drew nearer.

Surrounded by a wrought iron gate, the house stood as a bastion of elegance amidst the bustling streets. Tall trees swayed gently in the breeze, their branches reaching out to embrace the ancient structure with a sense of reverence. Vines climbed the walls, their verdant tendrils weaving intricate patterns against the weathered stone.

The sight of the Forest House sent a shiver down my spine, a visceral reaction to the aura of power and mystery that seemed to emanate from its very core. It was as if the house held secrets untold, whispering tales of bygone days and forgotten legends to those who dared to listen.

"Wait!" I called out, the urgency in my voice halting Eris in his tracks. His steps faltered, and he turned to face me, a glint of amusement dancing in the depths of his eyes. The sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead cast dappled shadows across his features, lending an air of intrigue to his already enigmatic presence.

"Yes?" he inquired, his voice smooth and tinged with playful curiosity, his smirk hinting at secrets hidden just beneath the surface.

"What's going to happen to me? Where will I stay?" I blurted out, the fierce confidence I had summoned earlier dissipating like morning mist in the face of uncertainty. Nervously, I began to pick at my nails, the weight of the unknown pressing down upon me like a heavy cloak.

Eris regarded me with a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he had anticipated my question long before I had voiced it. "You will stay with me, of course," he replied simply, his voice carrying an air of nonchalance that belied the gravity of his words. There was a subtle confidence in his demeanor, a quiet assurance that spoke of his authority within the court.

I recoiled at his casual response, a surge of apprehension coursing through me. "But what about Beron? Won't he object to having a… a lowborn in his household?" I ventured cautiously, the weight of his father's disapproval looming like a specter in the back of my mind.

"Nonsense," Eris scoffed, his arms crossing over his chest in a dismissive gesture. "You are now a member of this court, and given your condition," he added with a subtle nod towards my abdomen, "it is only fitting that you reside in more suitable accommodations." His words were tinged with a hint of defiance, a silent challenge to anyone who would dare question his authority.

Despite his reassurances, doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind, uncertainty clouding my thoughts like a thick fog. "Absolutely not!" I protested vehemently, a surge of protectiveness coursing through me as I instinctively placed a hand over my stomach, as if to shield my unborn child from the absurdity of Eris's suggestion. "I refuse to stay in your chambers, Eris. It's… it's utterly preposterous."

Eris's eyebrow lifted slightly, his gaze holding a hint of amusement mixed with something darker. "Stubborn, aren't we?" he remarked, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "But if you prefer to sleep on the streets, far be it from me to stand in your way."

His words, though seemingly casual, carried a sharp edge that hinted at the depth of his cunning. It was a subtle reminder of his position of power, a reminder that I was at his mercy whether I liked it or not.

I bristled at his thinly veiled threat, my jaw clenching as I met his gaze with a glare of my own. "You wouldn't dare," I challenged, though a flicker of uncertainty danced behind my eyes.

Eris's smirk widened, the glint in his amber eyes turning predatory. "Try me," he replied, his tone dripping with promise and menace in equal measure.

With a frustrated huff, I reluctantly relented, realizing that I was in no position to defy him. "Fine," I conceded through gritted teeth, my hand slipping from my stomach to clench into a fist at my side. "But don't expect me to thank you for it."

Eris's smirk softened into a smirk, his gaze lingering on me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Who said anything about gratitude?" he mused, his voice low and husky. "I'm merely extending a courtesy to a fellow refugee."

His words were laced with sarcasm, a reminder that his generosity came with strings attached. It was a stark contrast to the charming facade he wore, a glimpse of the ruthlessness that lay beneath.

I swallowed hard, a bitter taste rising in the back of my throat as I followed him towards the Forest House. It was clear that my time in the Autumn Court would be far from easy, but as I glanced back at the crumbling ruins of the Spring Court behind me, I knew that I had no other choice.

As we reached the grand doors of the Forest House, Eris turned to me with a smirk. "Welcome to your new home, little fox," he remarked, his tone dripping with irony. "Try not to get too comfortable."

My brows furrowed at his words, suspicion creeping into my mind. "What's the catch?" I asked warily, narrowing my eyes at him.

Eris chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Though I do have one condition," he said, his smirk widening into a grin.

"And what is that?" I asked, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

"You must walk with me once a day for the duration of your stay," Eris declared, his tone teasing yet firm.

My jaw dropped in disbelief. "You're joking," I exclaimed, disbelief evident in my voice.

Eris's grin widened, his amber eyes dancing with amusement. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he retorted, his tone challenging.

I narrowed my eyes at him, a surge of defiance rising within me. "This is ridiculous," I protested, shaking my head in disbelief. "I won't be your captive audience."

Eris's expression softened, a hint of something unfamiliar flickering in his eyes. "It's not about being captive," he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Consider it… a chance to explore the court, to clear your mind. Besides," he added with a smirk, "I could use the company."

I bristled at his suggestion, my pride warring with my better judgment. "And if I refuse?" I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest.

Eris's smirk widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Then you'll miss out on some truly breathtaking views," he replied, his tone teasing yet earnest.

I sighed in frustration, realizing that I was fighting a losing battle. "Fine," I relented, though the words tasted like ash on my tongue. "But don't expect me to enjoy it."

Eris's grin widened into a smirk, his eyes alight with amusement. "Oh, I have a feeling you'll come to enjoy it more than you think," he remarked cryptically, before turning to lead the way into the Forest House.

As Eris escorted me to the grand Forest House, his steps were measured, exuding an air of regal confidence that was unmistakably his. His fiery locks seemed to dance with each movement, and his amber eyes held a glint of mischief, hinting at the cunning that lay beneath his charming exterior.

Upon entering my chambers, Eris's gaze swept over the room with a critical eye, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I trust the accommodations meet with your approval, my lady?" he inquired, his voice smooth as honey but tinged with a hint of sarcasm.

I nodded, unable to suppress a smirk of my own at his thinly veiled jest. "They're quite lovely, thank you," I replied, matching his playful tone with one of my own.

Eris's smirk widened into a grin, his amusement evident in the curve of his lips. "Excellent," he remarked, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to survey the room once more.

As I explored my new surroundings, I couldn't help but notice Eris's watchful gaze following my every move. It was as if he were sizing me up, gauging my reactions to the opulence that surrounded us. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye, a depth of character hidden behind his charming facade.

Spotting the single daffodil on the table near the window, I couldn't suppress a chuckle at the sight. It was a quintessentially Eris gesture—playful yet meaningful, a subtle reminder of our earlier exchange. I picked up the note beside it, the elegant script a testament to Eris's attention to detail.

"I will be seeing you real soon, little fox. Wouldn't want you slacking off on our daily walks now, would we?" the note read, the teasing tone perfectly in line with Eris's mischievous nature. I couldn't help but smile at his audacity, the unspoken challenge sparking a flicker of excitement within me.

Setting the note back down, I turned to find Eris watching me with a knowing smirk, his amber eyes alight with amusement. "I take it you approve of my choice of decor?" he quipped, the smirk widening into a grin as he met my gaze.

I rolled my eyes playfully, unable to suppress a laugh at his antics. "It's certainly… unique," I replied, the hint of sarcasm in my tone mirroring his own.

Eris chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "I'm glad to hear it," he replied, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to hide the flush that crept across his cheeks.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesofvolterra @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd

#fanfic #x reader #angst #acotar #acosf #acowar #acourtofthornsandroses #acomaf #eris masterlist #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #lucien #lady of autumn #beron vanserra #pregnant #pregnancy #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #eris x you #fluff #a court of thorns and roses #smut #Eris

[thehighladywrites]

— “ an unexpected twist ”

⋆˙⟡ pairing: professor eris vanserra x reader, part 3

⋆˙⟡ summary: you spend every weekend at eris’s mansion, what happens this time? Who is Eris Vanserra and how come he is so rich on a professors salary? GASP A PLOT TWIST

⋆˙⟡ warnings: mentions of smut, tw talks of beron vanserra🤢, abusive childhood, eris dropping huge stacks of money on you, eris channeling his inner sugar daddy, you call him daddy for the first time ever, mentions of an unalive body.

⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i’m not going to lie the plot twist is either a banger or the messiest thing i’ve ever written (pls be a banger)

part 1, part 2

In the gentle morning light, you lay there in his bed, your lover's bed, serenely unaware of him, enchanted by the sight of you.

Eris had been awake for hours, yet the idea of leaving the cocoon of your warmth never crossed his mind. He marveled at the sheer luck of having someone as incredible as you in his life.

Last night, he came to the realization that he had started to feel mushy and in love with you. The thought still rattled him, and he couldn't shake the slight wariness that you held the power to influence his feelings.

Feelings, thoughts, and open discussions were never entertained in the Vanserra household. Eris and his brothers had been raised by their abusive father, who subjected them to verbal, physical, and emotional abuse. Their father manipulated them into accepting and believing whatever suited his agenda.

Through the passing years, Eris had finely tuned his act as the heartbreakingly cold and scornful eldest son. The mask of cruelty clung to him so persistently that he found himself questioning if it was a facade or a painful reflection of his true self.

When his old man kicked the bucket, Eris felt like a ton of bricks was off his back – turns out, it was just an act. Now, with the nosy observer out of the picture, he went all out decorating his room, something he couldn't do growing up. At firat he felt stupid for being happy about being able to change his room because it was something so normalized but he realized how much it healed his inner child. No more walking on eggshells; he could finally kick back. Where did he celebrate his first taste of freedom? The same bar where he first bumped into you.

Grinning at the notion, Eris not only shed a heavy burden but also welcomed newfound brightness into his life. He was determined not to mess things up in any way.

Fully aware that his actions were objectively wrong, Eris couldn't muster the will to change course. He had succumbed to love, a fertile ground for obsession. While he concealed that side for now, he knew it would eventually surface.

The gentle stir in his arms brought Eris back to the present. A warm feeling enveloped his heart as he looked down at you, tenderly running his fingers through your hair, savoring the sweet moment.

Bending down, Eris pressed a gentle kiss on your head, catching the sweet aroma of the strawberry-scented shampoo you insisted he use. Amused by the fact that his hair had never been smoother, he looked at you with a smile.

“Good morning, sweetheart. Want to do something fun today?” he suggested.

Excited, you sat up straight, a huge grin on your face, eager for some fun. When you asked him what he had in mind, Eris leaned in, maintaining eye contact, and handed you a black card with a hint of mystery.

“Go crazy,” he smirked, settling in with his glasses, preparing to read the book laying on the nightstand.

You stared at the black card and then at him. The question lingered – how did a professor end up with a black card? Weren't those reserved for big spenders and invite-only privileges?

“There's no need to be shy, love. Ask whatever it is you want to ask,” he reassured you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Your cheeks warmed at how well he seemed to know you.

“How are you so rich? I mean, no offense, but I thought professors and teachers weren’t really that... well-off,” you inquired, genuine curiosity in your voice.

“I'm not only a professor, beautiful. I worked at my father’s company before he passed, and now I’m the owner and the CEO. Teaching is just a side job,” he explained, shedding light on his financial standing.

“Oh, I didn’t expect that. So what do you do?” you asked.

“Investment banking,” he replied quickly, not seemingly open to having a conversation about it.

You didn’t really know what that meant but you also really didn’t care. He had money and you were gonna spend it.

“Huh, okay. Does that mean I can buy whatever I want?” you tilted your head at him, a teasing expression on your face with slightly raised eyebrows.

“You can buy whatever you want. Start off by adding the card to your Apple Pay wallet. I want to pay for whatever it is you need. Don’t worry about anything anymore, my love.”

He kissed your forehead, and the gesture made your vision slightly blurry. Eris took such good care of you, and the desire to make him proud lingered in your heart. Wanting to lightheartedly joke with him you tell him how much he reminds you of a dominating sugar daddy.

“Yeah? A dom sugar daddy, huh? How about you come here and give me something sweet, then?”

His taunting voice almost turned your brain to mush. This dynamic was entirely new and felt amazing. Eris embodied a provider, protector, and lover, all in one. No more worrying about the bare minimum or small things – he treated you like a queen. Unlike people your age, he didn't play games or ask for something in return for his gestures; it was a standard for him, a refreshing change.

You were well aware that Eris's fucking would leave you in need of a nap, so you decided to playfully tease him now, saving the rest for later.

“I promise to give you something real sweet after I’m done shopping, daddy.”

Damn. You knew you should’ve saved it for later. The man grabbed your giggling form and quickly turned it into moans, whimpers and sobs.

—

Obviously and sadly you couldn’t go outside together and shop so you had to order things online, but it was fine because it was so much more convenient this way. With a few clicks, your numerous packages arrived. Was it rude to order so much on someone else’s card? Hmm… maybe for regular people, but not for you. The man had a black card aka no fucking limit. You could buy literally anything and it would go through. So you did what any sane person with an unlimited budget did.

You shopped your ass off.

Clothes, makeup, skincare, books – you turned his doorstep into a glam runway. Nails, lashes, hair appointments – basically, you scheduled a spa day for yourself via delivery. Waxes, new phone case, upgraded computer – you were basically giving your whole life a makeover. Better shoes, nicer bag – You didn't just shop; you leveled up your entire wardrobe.

When you saw the damage of your shopping spree in his living room your cheeks heated as you looked at him with an apologetic smile.

But Eris wasn’t mad, not in the slightest. There was truly no better feeling than being able to spoil you. He loved your facial expressions when you saw something that caught your eye, loved the way your eyes sparkled when you saw a cute piece of jewelry that you just had to have. Your unapologetic way of spending his money was such a turn on for him. You sure showed him how much you appreciate him…

—

The weekend with Eris was almost over, and the thought of going back to school didn't sit well with you. Being with him felt comfortable and safe, away from potentially judgmental eyes and consequences. Now, you had to act like he's just another professor, dealing with thirsty whispers from fellow students that made your fists tighten. And don't get started on Professor Jensen – despite your warnings, she still managed to hover around Eris. Guess you’d just prove your words weren’t just words and that being around Eris would give her consequences. The return to the school routine felt like a looming storm, and you weren't looking forward to it.

You voiced your concerns to him and he gave you comfort and promised that you’d be spending more time with each other next weekend and all weekends forward.

After your final night routine, you fall asleep together, finding comfort and warmth in each other's embrace. The room quieted down, and your drift off into a peaceful slumber.

—

However, the peace was short-lived. Hearing a muffled thud, you attempted to snuggle closer to Eris, only to find his heated presence absent. Sitting up, you assumed he might be in the bathroom. As minutes passed without his return, worry crept in, and the realization hit you – you had grown accustomed to his warmth, and now, sleep seemed impossible without him by your side.

You got a blanket and wrapped it around you, got into the fuzzy slipper he got you and went to look for him.

Shirtless, Eris stood there, speaking harshly into his phone. Another male voice emanated from the speaker, filled with concern and fear.

“I won't repeat myself. The deal happens tomorrow night, or you will face consequences. Inquire with your father. Oh, wait, that’s right, you can't.”

Eris's voice turned taunting and cruel, unlike the playful teasing you were familiar with. This was a cold demeanor you hadn't seen before, a stark departure from the Eris you had grown accustomed to.

“Eris?”

His entire body froze, not expecting to see you awake. He prayed to every god and whatever people prayed to these days that the man on the phone didn't hear your voice. Because there was no telling what he’d do if he found out Eris had a weak spot. He reminded the man of what he said and hung up before turning around and going back into the warm Eris you knew.

“What are you doing up, princess? It's 2 in the morning,” he smiled so warmly and softly at you, it nearly made you forget your words.

“I couldn’t sleep without you. What’s going on? You sounded angry, is everything okay?”

He looked at you with tenderness, grabbing your cheeks before kissing you softly.

“It was just one of my employees at the company who had been slacking off a bit. Don’t worry about me, my love. Let’s get you back to bed.”

You nodded at him, lifting your arms in a sleepy gesture for him to lift you up. With a chuckle and no difficulty, he complied.

Eris cradled your head in the crook of his neck, strategically shielding your view. Unbeknownst to you, his men worked silently in the background, discreetly cleaning up the dead body. He fervently prayed that your drowsiness kept you oblivious to the grim details.

Crossing his fingers, Eris also hoped the presence of his gun on the nearby table escaped your notice in the dimly lit room.

🏷️ taglist: @teenageeggscissorslawyer @daycourtofficial @nocasdatsgay @vellichor01 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @rowaelinsdaughter @meshellexplosionmurder @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @candyjaypoppins @natashachelsea @whatthefuckshappeningrn @acourtofbatboydreams

#talkswithamara #acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar imagine #i need eris so bad rn y’all i’m not joking #eris vandaddy #eris acosf #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra acowar #eris vanserra #eris acowar #eris acotar #eris x reader #professor eris vanserra #professor eris #professor x reader #student x professor #mafia au #mafia #mafia boss #mafia au acotar #mafia boss eris vanserra

[halfway-house-in-hell]

alastor redesign

click for higher quality (and also to see his antlers tumblr cut them off 😢)

ramblings under the cut!!

-alastor was a famous radio presenter in the 1930's. he was also a serial killer and a cannibal, who died in 1939.

-he wished to be famous in his life, but he could not safely become a tv show host or a movie star because of the racism of the time, so he chose to hide behind radio instead, never showing his face. he was quite poor in his youth and so became obsessed with eating, which led to him becoming a cannibal. he is always hungry. hungry for fame, hungry for power, hungry for flesh.

-he died of starvation. he was chasing a victim through the woods when his foot got caught in a bear trap. he was stuck there for 3 days before succumbing to his injuries. (thats why hes so alarmingly skinny)

-his reputation as a serial killer preceded him when he arrived in hell. major evils dying is always a big event, and he used this to gain power

-he now sits as a major overlord - but none of his empire is real. he doesn't have any major powers, and has lied his way to the top by implying that he has more power than he is letting on. he doesn't.

-he discovers Charlie's hotel through her tv show last-ditch pitch (same as the pilot, except ive now decided that that interview cost them the last of their hotel money, so the stakes to find an investor were higher). he decides to sponsor Charlie's hotel because he wants POWER, real substantial power to ensure his throne of lies is safe, and he figures manipulating Lucifer's weak daughter is the easiest way to get that power.

-he is immediately overbearingly friendly to her, which valtiel & the other guests find suspicious. he begins bending the hotel to his whims, making it more suited to his tastes.

-he has large amounts of money and a popular radio show, which he uses to fund and advertise the hotel

-he tends to disappear when fights start

-his best friend is nifty. they have a very strong bond. he often communicates her worries for her, and in return she spies on the guests for him. he doesn't even own her soul they're just buddies

-he's still aroace but not bc he only cares about himself. thats stupid

-he is intentionally mysterious and speaks in riddles & lotts of 1930s slang

-he is firmly still in the 1930s, to an unusual extent. he has all the dated ideas and mannerisms of the 30's, refusing to become more modern.

-his room in the hotel is entirely monochrome

-he shares Charlie's love of musicals, and often encourages her to sing. whether his like of them is genuine or an act is unclear

-ok thats it thanks for reading

#halfway house art #halfway house rewrites #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel rewrite #hazbin hotel criticism #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin #alastor redesign #alastor

[sanjisprincesswifey]

Congratulations on 3000 followers 😃 You deserve them all!

May I please request Song 1 with Shanks and AFAB Reader? SFW or NSFW is fine 😊

lucky girl (or realizing you’re falling in love ft. shanks)

notes: shanks is kinda dopey, gender-neutral reader implied, sfw content, 600+ words, thank u for participating!!!

you had heard that shanks often dismissed potential lovers.

with the excuse of his love for the sea, he left a string of broken hearts in his wake. he had a reputation, anyone who knew of red-haired shanks knew of his vile personality towards women.

his narcissistic behavior often loved the longing and desperation that his romantic partners exemplified when he left them the next morning, it fueled his idiotic ego, so when he showed up on your island, you knew you were not going to fall victim to him.

despite your knowledge, you couldn't find proper reasoning behind his settlement on your home island. this was longer than he'd typically stay anywhere, a couple onlookers chose to believe you were the reason behind his decision.

you were indifferent about it.

“aw come on y/n, just one drink,” shanks whines, his cheeks flushed with a warm red hue.

you only chuckle, snatching the glass from his hand before filling it with water.

“my answer is the same as it was yesterday—”

“—and the day before that. but come on, i’ll treat you real nice,” he pleas, surely attempting to pull you into his irresistible trap.

today, he’d sat on the same barstool for hours for almost the entirety of your shift desiring to coax you into his arms. now that you are no longer protected by the safety of your work schedule, you heavily sigh as shanks walks over to you just as you’re about to leave.

“not interested,” you dismiss with a polite smile as if he were a random stranger.

he feigns hurt but holds the door open for you as you exit the building, not bothering to accept your rejection. now that he had been incessantly bothering you for weeks on end, you had come to understand why all the other women fell for his charming façade.

“you can’t take a hint, can you?” you joke, wrapping your hand around his right arm.

he grazes you with a cheeky smile, shaking his head. “nope!”

the air that settled was familiar, too familiar for your liking, but you decide to succumb to him anyway, resting your head on his shoulder.  each day that he walked you home you had found him more irresistible as time passed; slick, sugar-coated words began to woo you more than you’d like to admit until you finally realized this was what all the women before you had warned about.

“if you’re going to stay the night, you gotta stay on the couch,” you warn, unlocking your front door and inviting him inside.  

but before you receive a response, he had you pinned against your own door, head tilted as he leans his face in closer to yours.

“i had a feeling you were going to do that,” you whisper, staring directly at his lips. you watch them contort into a smile, a soft laugh escaping him.

“oh yeah? was i that obvious?” he teases, cupping your face.

as you find the tension impossible to break, lips inching closer to his with no desire to retract, you wonder if all the other women had felt the way that you do right now.

was he soft with his touch, fingers holding your face with a delicacy that could have only been described as passion. were his eyes soft, glazed over with a look of adoration as he stared back at them? none of these actions had ever appeared malicious, no ulterior motives had ever presented themselves no matter how high you had kept your walls up.

you didn’t know if this time was any different for him as any of the others had been, if he had pulled the same moves, used the same lines just as he did all the time before. but you didn’t care.

as his warm lips latch onto yours, moving in a confident, yet needy motion. you can feel shanks sink into your touch as you pull him closer by his collar, submitting to your touch as you begin to guide the kiss.

it was your way of taking control, alerting him that this time would be different than all the others, but maybe that was his plan all along.

celebrate 3,000 followers with me!

#shanks i hate u #but i love u #ugh #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #shanks x reader #red haired shanks x reader #one piece #one piece x reader