#and I want to write more! and I’d love to be able to write faster!

[skyward-floored]

now I’m feeling like I overstepped with that comment post

[surielstea]

Dancing With Fate

Original request.

Pairing: Nyx Archeron x Tamlin’s Daughter!Reader

Summary: While struggling with her relationship with her father, Reader goes to her first ball and stumbles upon a male she has never met, but feels a distinct connection to.

Warnings: slight angst with a parent, mostly fluff between Reader and Nyx

A.Note: I apologize for how long this took me to get out, I really struggled with how to format her back story but I ended up fairly happy with it, let me know if y’all want more of these two I’d be happy to write a few one shots of their dynamic as well as all the family drama since I’m such a sucker for the forbidden love trope ;)

6.4k word count.

"Can you do that again for me, my sweet?" my mother whispered, her voice trembling as she crouched down to my height. I watched her eyes fill with a glassy shine that I didn't understand. She reached out, her hands shaking as they wrapped around my small wrists. I blinked up at her, wide-eyed and oblivious, only feeling the warmth of her touch and the tremor of her fingers.

I balled my hands into tiny fists, scrunching my face with all the concentration I could muster. I wanted so badly to make her proud, to show her what I could do. I willed the claws beneath my skin to surface, squeezing my fists tighter until, with a soft tearing, they slid out, small and sharp, shining like new silver. Her breath caught, and her eyes went even wider as she stared at the claws that had split through my knuckles. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and I tilted my head, wondering why she was sad. I reached out, my claws joining the action as I moved, but she stumbled back, evading the sharp silver, her hand pressed over her mouth.

"What's wrong, Momma?" I asked, my voice tiny. I tried to reach for her cheek, to wipe the tear away like she'd done for me so many times, but she shook her head, forcing a small, shaky smile.

"Nothing, it's alright, my sweet," she whispered, her voice soft and a little broken. "I just... didn't think you'd be able to do this so soon." Her fingers lingered on my cheek, warm and tender. She looked at me like she was memorizing my face, like every part of me mattered.

I gave her a proud smile, lifting my hands. "Isn't it cool?" I grinned widely, my innocence unbroken. I had no idea what my claws really meant, or the sorrow that darkened her gaze as she watched me slash the air with them, filling the quiet night with soft, sharp swishes. She just sat there, quiet and sad, holding her own hands close to her chest as if they couldn't bear to let me go.

It was a late night, much too late for me to be awake. I clung tightly to my mother's hand as she led me through a garden filled with roses that gleamed under the moonlight. The flowers were tall and beautiful, and I wanted to reach out to touch them, but my mother's grip kept me close. She moved so fast, her cloak wrapped tightly around her, like she was hiding from something.

"Where are we going, Mom?" I asked in a small voice, but she didn't answer, her steps quickening as she pulled me along. The roses seemed to shiver in the breeze, their petals brushing against us as we passed, and the moon above us was high and cold, casting everything in a silver glow.

Ahead of us was a huge mansion, bigger than any house I'd ever seen. It loomed in the night, dark and quiet, like it was waiting for us. My mother slowed as we neared the porch, her breathing heavy as she crouched down in front of me, her face serious in a way that made my heart beat faster.

She pressed a folded piece of paper into my hands, her fingers cold and firm around mine. "We're going to play a game, okay?" she said, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her fingers brushed my cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

I nodded eagerly, happy that she wanted to play. Games with Momma were always fun. She pointed to the paper, her hand gentle but urgent. "Whoever opens that door," she said, her voice steady but quiet, "you give them this paper, okay?" Her gaze held mine, as if she was trying to pour a message into me with her eyes. "And, my sweet," she paused, swallowing hard, "I'm going to hide now. And no matter what they ask you, you can't tell them I was with you. It's a big secret."

I blinked up at her, not fully understanding, but I nodded anyway, like a good girl. She reached out, her fingers lingering on my cheek again, her eyes shimmering with something I couldn't name. "I'll meet you at the window, okay?" Her voice cracked, and a tear slipped down her cheek. "It'll be fun, I promise."

I reached up to brush the tear away, but she was already rising. Before I could say anything else, she knocked on the tall doors, and with a last, lingering look, she turned and melted into the shadows. Just like that, she was gone.

Suddenly, the night felt enormous and empty, the shadows stretching out around me, dark and cold. The noises from the forest grew louder, like the trees and animals and everything hidden within the dark were whispering all around me. My heart pounded, and I almost wanted to cry out, to beg for her to come back and take me home. But before I could make a sound, the massive doors creaked open, casting a sliver of light onto the porch.

A man stood in the doorway, tall and fierce, with wild red hair and eyes that seemed to cut through the darkness. One of his eyes gleamed gold, like a piece of metal, and he looked down at me with a frown, his expression stern and sleepy. "Excuse me, Mister," I squeaked, trying to remember my mother's instructions.

His gaze softened just a bit as he took in my tiny figure. "And who might you be?" he asked, his voice rough but not unkind.

"I'm supposed to give this to you." I held up the paper, my hands trembling as I waited for him to take it. He knelt down, eyeing me carefully as he unfolded the note, his expression unreadable. I gave him a polite smile, remembering my mother's lessons, but his gaze flicked from the note back to me, his eyes narrowing.

"Where's your mother?" he asked, his voice soft but sharp.

I shrugged, fidgeting under his gaze. "I don't know," I whispered, my heart thudding in my chest.

"But she brought you here, didn't she?" he pressed, his gaze steady. I swallowed, unsure of how my mother would want me to answer. After a long, quiet moment, he sighed, opening the door wider. "Come inside. You shouldn't be out here alone."

I followed him into the mansion, the silence thick and heavy as he led me up a grand staircase. My shoes clicked against the cold, polished floor as we climbed up and up, stopping finally at a pair of wooden doors wrapped in ivy. I was too small to open them, so I just waited, feeling very small in the middle of the enormous hallway.

"Wait here a moment," he said, giving me a nod before stepping through the door. I looked around, mesmerized by the golden chandelier hanging above me, its glow casting strange, twisting shadows that moved as the lights flickered.

"I already told you I'm not in the mood to talk, Lucien." A deep, heavy voice sounded from beyond the door, and I jumped, hugging my cloak tighter around me.

"It's not that," Lucien replied, his tone shifting in a way that sounded unsure, even a little nervous. "You have a visitor."

The other voice was silent for a moment, and my stomach knotted up as I realized they were talking about me. "Tell them to leave," the man said finally, his tone cold and final.

Lucien sighed, and I heard the soft rustling of paper. The silence felt like it stretched forever, but then footsteps approached. The door swung open, and I looked up to see a tall man with golden hair, his eyes dark and sharp as they fell on me. I could tell by the way he looked at me that he wasn't used to children, that maybe he didn't know what to do with me.

But he crouched down slowly, his gaze softening just a bit as he held his hands up, like he wanted me to know he wasn't going to hurt me. "What's your name?" he asked, his voice low and gentle.

I told him, my voice a quiet whisper, but he nodded as if he'd heard every word. "Do you know who I am?" he asked, tilting his head, and I shook my head, looking down at my hands.

"I'm the High Lord of the Spring Court," he said softly, his tone proud but his eyes sad. My eyes widened, a little smile pulling at my lips. I'd heard of a High Lord in my mother's stories, someone powerful and magical.

"But, more importantly," he continued, his gaze searching my face, "I'm your father."

I blinked up at him, the words hanging in the air like they were something heavy, something I didn't yet understand. I wanted to ask him what it all meant, but all I could do was stare up at him, my fingers curling around the edge of my cloak, wishing I was safe in my mother's arms again.

———

Ever since that night, I've been confined to this estate on every special occasion, under the watchful eyes of my father's maids, lest I sneak away the moment I'm alone. Tonight, like many others, I'm left looking out the window of my bedroom—the same spot where I'd waited endlessly as a child, hoping my mother would come back for me.

But tonight was going to be different. I'd make sure of it.

I storm out of my room, my heels clicking with determined steps as I march down the hall. I swing open the doors to my father's study without knocking. He looks up from his papers, brow creased, clearly taken aback by my abrupt entrance.

"I'm going to the Dawn Court tonight," I say, my tone leaving no room for discussion.

"Absolutely not," he replies, shaking his head and dipping his quill back in the ink, dismissing me with the kind of finality he's used to exerting over me.

"All the courts are invited," I argue, stepping forward. "I'm obligated to go."

"No," he says again, his tone colder. "It's a high-profile ball. You're not ready."

I draw in a sharp breath, struggling to keep my temper in check. "Not ready? Father, I'm nineteen. If not now, then when?" This age had been difficult for him for some reason, I don't know why but ever since my birthday he's been acting strangely, started keeping me shut out and less involved—I may as well have just been imagining it or it was a coincidence it started happening after I turned nineteen, but once I got the thought in my head it was hard to get it out.

His expression hardens, his voice annoyingly calm. "Just, not now."

A chill spreads through my hands, and I have to resist the urge to bear the claws that hide beneath my skin. "I'm so tired of having every decision made for me," I say, pressing my palms to my temples as frustration wells up. "Of being treated like a prisoner in this house."

He stands, his temper fraying. "And I'm sick of you thinking you know best," His voice rises, echoing in the silence of the study. "You don't understand half of what's at stake."

"No, maybe I don't. But neither do you, apparently," I snap back. "Or maybe it's just that you're afraid to lose the only company you have left in this house. Is that it, Father?"

His hands ball into fists, metal-like claws gleaming from his knuckles. Mine slid out as well, a metallic gleam in the dim light.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he snarls, eyes darkening.

"Maybe I do," I bite back. "I hate this house." It came out as more of a confession than a retort, but his face falters, pain flickering through his eyes before he regains his composure.

"You don't mean that."

"I do," I insist, voice shaking with anger. "I hate this house, and I wish my mother never abandoned me here." The words are barely out of my mouth before I turn on my heel and stride out, slamming the door behind me so hard the walls shudder, my claws snagging on the wood of the door and scraping the paint off, revealing the bare, slightly rotted wood beneath. It felt like a metaphor, in a strange way.

I make my way to the garden, desperate for air. The night breeze is cool as I step out onto the deck, and I close the glass doors behind me a little more gently this time. Taking a few deep breaths, I walk along the garden path, letting the silence and cold soothe my frayed nerves. Winter's grip is finally loosening, and the garden is starting to come alive with buds and leaves. My favorite time of year.

I reach for one of the rosebuds, my claws retracting ever so slowly, my skin morphing over the hideous metal that gleamed in the moonlight. I forget the feeling of the power my father gifted me and remember the feeling and comforting warmth of my mother's power flickering beneath my fingertips. The flower blooms in my palm, reaching out toward me, and I smile faintly as I coax the other buds open along the path. Flower by flower my frustrating emotions ebb, and by the time I've reached the stone bench, my anger has cooled, replaced by something heavier, more complicated.

I sit, feeling the familiar weight of regret settle over me. I don't hate this house, not really. I hate the way I'm trapped in it.

The glass door opens, and I know without looking that it's him. My father takes a seat beside me on the bench, and I shift away, making it clear I'm not ready to forgive him just yet. We sit in silence, watching the newly-bloomed flowers sway in the night breeze. Finally, he sighs.

"You can go to the Dawn Court tonight," he says quietly.

I turn to him, my eyes wide with surprise.

He hesitates, looking down at his hands. "I'm..." He struggles around the word. "Sorry that you feel like you can't make your own choices," he mutters, his voice filled with a vulnerability I haven't heard ever before. "I'm trying to do better. And, you're right. I am afraid."

My heart softens, and the walls I've built up slowly crumble. "Afraid of what?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Of losing you, in turn losing everything." He looks up, his eyes—a shade of green I've always found comfort in—filled with an emotion that makes my heart ache.

Without thinking, I wrap my arms around him, and he pulls me close, his hand gently stroking my back. "I'm sorry, too," I murmur into his shoulder.

He shakes his head. "Don't be. You're my daughter. You're allowed to be angry with me." He pulls back to look at me. "Just promise me one thing," he says. "Promise you won't run away tonight."

I give him a small smile, the request so obscene that u couldn't help it. "I'll be perfect. Thank you, Father." I reassure.

He nods, satisfied, and rises from the bench. "We leave in an hour. You'd better start getting ready."

———

My dress is a soft lavender that hugs my waist and fans out into a beautiful, flowing skirt, the slit running up my thigh edged in delicate embroidered flowers. The open back crisscrosses with delicate ties, and the neckline is just low enough to be elegant without being too revealing. One of the maids has styled my hair in a half-up, half-down look, a few braided strands framing my face. For once, I feel exactly how I want to feel—elegant, feminine, and free.

I leave my bedroom and make my way down the hall to the marble staircase, where my father waits at the base. As I descend, his eyes widen, his mouth opening slightly as he takes in my appearance.

"Well?" I do a small spin, laughing at his awestruck expression.

He swallows, a proud smile slowly spreading across his face. "You look beautiful," he murmurs, pulling me into a hug.

I hug him back, letting him hold me close, and in that moment, it feels as if all the tension of our earlier argument melts away. We're just father and daughter again.

———

The Dawn Court ballroom is bathed in golden light, warm and inviting. I've barely stepped inside when a tall, dark-skinned man in white robes approaches, a halo of gold atop his head.

"And who is this lovely lady?" he asks, his voice rich with curiosity.

"My daughter," my father answers gruffly, his protective tone unmistakable.

The man blinks in surprise before offering a sheepish smile. "Ah, well then." He turns and makes a quick exit.

"Who was that?" I ask, amused by his reaction.

"High Lord of Day," my father mutters, a hint of irritation in his voice. "He has a reputation."

I raise an eyebrow, smiling as I unlink my arm from his. "Are all High Lords so... pretty?"

"Careful," he growls in warning.

A cheeky smile appears on my lips as I unhook my arm from his. "Only observations." I shrug. "I'm going to get a drink." I take a step away and he takes it with me. "Father, I'm only going to the refreshments table, not war. I'll be fine." I promise and he solicits a sigh.

"No wine." He demands and I shake my head in disbelief.

"Yes sir." I mock salute before spinning on my heel and walking across the ballroom, I make my way to the refreshment table and pour myself a glass from the fountain of cider, admiring the way the bubbles shimmer in the golden light. My father had said no wine but mentioned nothing about spiked cider. I take a long sip and begin to explore the ballroom, watching dancers swirl in gowns of blue and pink that mirror the sunset outside.

Lost in thought, I wander past an indoor garden filled with gardenias and evergreens. I couldn't help myself but slip inside, a few guests were inside, admiring the flowers just as I wished to do, so I deemed I was allowed to. I approached an arch of budded flowers, standing beneath the green vines that soon would be sprouted in color. I reached out, gently brushing a bud with my fingertips, watching as it blooms in reply.

"Your touch has improved since the last time I saw you," a familiar voice murmurs from behind me.

I turn, eyes lighting up as they land on a tan-skinned male with striking red hair. "Lucien!" I throw my arms around him, grinning.

He chuckles, pulling me into a warm hug. "You look stunning, little Fawn," he says, holding me at arm's length to take in my dress. "How did you manage to get out of the house?"

I smirk with a casual shrug. "Whipped out the claws."

He raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Like father, like daughter." He mused and I chuckled, looking down at the flowers reaching towards me, asking for my attention again.

"You want to dance?" His hand comes to my shoulder and I shake my head.

"You go ahead, I think I'll need a few more glasses before I step foot on the dance floor." I scoff and he shakes his head.

"Nonsense, you're a terrific dancer." He bumps my shoulder.

"I'm okay uncle, really," I reassured and he clamped his lips shut.

"Okay, find me if you need me." He presses a kiss to my temple and I nod.

He saunters away towards a group of friends I didn't recognize and I continue exploring, sipping my champagne as I wander through the crowd.

My gaze is caught by a group of strangers dressed in dark clothing. There's a woman in deep maroon, a honey brunette who smiles at me softly, and beside her, a tall man wearing a black-jeweled crown. I study them curiously, trying to place who they might be.

Distracted, I accidentally walk straight into someone's chest.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I stammer, stumbling back. I trip over my heels, but a pair of strong hands catches me, steadying me before I fall.

"You alright?" an unfamiliar voice asks, deep and soothing.

I look up—and up—and up—at a broad-shouldered man with rugged features and half of his shoulder-length hair tied back. He has a friendly, easy-going smile that immediately puts me at ease.

"Yeah, sorry," I mutter, flushing slightly.

He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. "No need to apologize. I should have been watching where I was going. You'd think five centuries would be enough time to figure that out." He snorts, red siphons gleaming on his chest and hands.

I blink in surprise. "Five centuries?"

He grins, raising an eyebrow. "Hey, no need to make me sound ancient."

I laugh, feeling unexpectedly comfortable around him. "Right. Apologies again." I clamp my lips shut, embarrassed.

"Who's the lucky person that brought you here tonight?" He asks, sensing my embarrassment and switching the topic, shifting to face towards the crowd.

"Couldn't I have come on my own?" I counter, crossing my arms.

He laughs again. "Touché. But I'll bet that doesn't mean you'll be lacking for dance partners." He gestures to the dance floor.

"Maybe," I say with a smile, "but that depends on who asks."

"Well, I would, but my mate would probably have my head if I danced with anyone else," he says, feigning a solemn look.

"Pity," I replied playfully. "But it's alright—you don't seem all that familiar with your feet anyway."

He gasps, feigning insult. "Hey! I'll have you know I'm a world-class dancer!"

"Oh, really?" I raise an eyebrow. "Shame, then. You missed your chance."

He chuckles, backing away. "Well, it was nice talking to you—mystery lady."

"Likewise," I call after him with a smile, watching as he disappears into the crowd.

The music is lively, filling the ballroom with a vibrant energy as dancers swirl and laugh under the golden chandeliers. I sip the last of my cider, feeling a pleasant warmth spread through me. For the first time in ages, I feel, free. Maybe my father had been right to keep me close all these years; maybe I wasn't ready for this world of strangers and their sharp eyes. But as I watch the colors and movement around me, I know I wouldn't trade this feeling for anything.

Lost in my thoughts, I wander past the terrace doors and step outside, onto a balcony that overlooks a sprawling garden filled with glistening fountains and delicate white flowers. I take a deep breath, savoring the crisp night air, and let my fingers trace the cool stone railing wrapped in ivy.

Then I hear it—a quiet, amused hum from just behind me. I turn, startled, and my gaze falls on a young man leaning casually against the doorway, watching me with a slight, crooked smile.

He's tall, with jet-black hair that falls in tousled waves, and eyes that are strikingly, disarmingly blue. He wears a dark, impeccably tailored suit, with a midnight-blue shirt beneath, the top buttons undone enough to reveal tan skin beneath. There's an effortless elegance to him, a quiet confidence, like he belongs in every corner of this glittering world.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he says, stepping forward with a charming half-smile. "But I had to wonder what you were doing all by yourself out here. Parties like these are hardly tolerable alone."

I raise an eyebrow, feeling my cheeks warm under his gaze. "And yet here you are, all by yourself."

He chuckles, eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. "Fair, though technically, I'm not alone anymore, am I?"

I laugh, feeling my earlier irritation with my father melt away as I look at him. "I suppose not. Though I doubt you're here to keep me company."

He raises a hand in mock innocence. "You wound me. I've been nothing but kind since we met."

"Have we met?" I ask, tilting my head. "I think I would've remembered," I say with an angled head and something flickers in his sapphire gaze that I can't quite place.

He seems to consider this, tilting his head thoughtfully. "No, we haven't officially met," he concedes. "Which feels like a shame, honestly."

The corners of my mouth lift in a smile. "So, are you going to introduce yourself, or are we just going to continue being strangers?"

His eyes sparkle with something like amusement as he extends a hand. "Strangers sounds nice," I say flippantly, looking out at the Dawn Courts skyline, a sliver of the sun barely visible. This party was supposed to last until dawn, until the sun returned and the entire court could watch the outmatched sunrise of this court.

I wasn't ready to commit to making any friends, I had just gained my freedom, I wished to revel in it for a few moments longer, nameless was my way of doing it.

He laughs, a rich, genuine sound that makes my heart skip. "Alright, stranger," he says, leaning casually against the railing beside me. "What brings you out to the edge of the ballroom?"

"Some air," I reply with a shrug, looking out over the garden. "I hadn't expected to feel so claustrophobic."

He nods, understanding flickering in his eyes. "Parties can be exhausting. All the faces, all the names. It's nice to step away."

I glance at him. "You sound like you've been to one too many of these."

"Oh, you have no idea," he says with a grin. "I think I've been to so many I could navigate them in my sleep."

"And here I thought you looked like you were having fun," I tease.

"Maybe I'm a good actor," he says, his tone playful. "Or maybe I just needed a reason to enjoy it."

I roll my eyes, but I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips. "Does that line actually work for you?"

"More often than you'd think," he says, laughing. "But since you're clearly immune to charm, let me try a different approach." He holds out a hand, bowing slightly. "Would you do me the honor of a dance, stranger?"

I hesitate, glancing back at the ballroom, but something about his easy smile, the spark of humor in his eyes, makes me want to take his hand. I place mine in his, letting him lead me closer.

The music inside changes as his lithe fingers make contact with my waist, shifting to a slower, softer melody. He adjusts my stance, guiding me with a gentleness that surprises me. There's a warmth in his gaze that makes my heart pound just a little faster as I look up at him.

"So, princess," he murmurs as we begin to move, his voice barely audible over the music echoing from inside. "Are you here with family? Or did you sneak away to attend the most boring ball of the season?"

I laugh, looking up at him with feigned offense. "Boring? I'll have you know I'm having a wonderful time."

"Are you?" he asks, eyes twinkling. "Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

"Maybe a little of both," I admit, a smile tugging at my lips. "And you? Do you always call balls like these boring?"

"Only when my mother's not here to overhear," he replies, grinning. "But tell me, how did you get here?"

I hesitate, wondering how much to tell him, but there's something about his gaze that makes it feel safe, to be honest. "My father brought me," I say, keeping it vague. "He doesn't let me out much."

"Really?" The stranger's eyebrows lift in surprise. "I would've pegged you for someone who went wherever they pleased."

"I'd like to think so," I reply, laughing. "But apparently, my father has other ideas."

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity in his eyes. "What does he think you'll do? Start a rebellion?"

"Maybe," I say with a shrug, a playful glint in my eyes. "He's probably right."

His laughter is warm, and he holds me a little closer as we spin across the marbled balcony floor. "Well, if you ever need a partner in crime, let me know. I'm an excellent accomplice."

I arch an eyebrow, smirking. "How do I know you're any good at sneaking out?"

He grins, leaning down until his voice is a soft murmur in my ear. "Trust me, princess. You don't survive my family without learning how to slip away now and then."

I glance up, meeting his gaze, intrigued by the way his words hold a hidden depth, a story he's not telling. "Your family sounds, interesting."

"That's one way to put it," he says with a chuckle, eyes flickering with a momentary shadow. But it's gone as quickly as it came, replaced by his easy charm. "Let's just say they have certain expectations."

"Well, then maybe we have more in common than I thought," I say, softening.

"Seems that way," he murmurs, his voice softening too. There's a gentleness in his gaze now, and I feel his hands hold me just a little more securely as if he's anchoring me.

We dance like this, quietly, for a few moments, simply enjoying the music and each other's company. He spins me once, drawing a soft laugh from me, and when he pulls me back, I'm closer than I realized, his breath warm on my cheek.

"Do you think we'd have met otherwise?" he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I blink, a little caught off guard by the question. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Fate has a funny way of working, doesn't it?" He's still holding me close, his gaze warm and thoughtful, and I feel the world fade away a little as we look at each other.

"It does," I reply, almost breathless, my heart pounding in my chest.

He's quiet for a moment, his eyes glimmering with something I couldn't place. "I hope—I hope fate lets us meet again."

For a moment, I forget about the ballroom, about my father's rules, about everything except him. I don't know who he is, or why he's here, but something about him feels achingly familiar, like we're old friends, like I've known him in some other life.

When the music fades, he slowly lets me go, and I feel the loss of his warmth, his presence. He steps back, bowing with a playful, courtly gesture.

I scoff a laugh and give my best attempt at a curtsy. "You're a natural," He muses as the music dies down and I sidle closer to the balcony, eager to look out at the world beyond that I had never witnessed before.

The balcony feels almost timeless as we stand there, his presence beside me grounding in a way I hadn't expected. We talk as if there are no constraints, just the night around us, a quiet space carved out in the world. His words flow easily, a mix of humor and teasing, sometimes dipping into moments of gentleness that make my chest tighten.

I can't help but keep stealing glances at him, trying to memorize the sharp line of his jaw and the warm, playful gleam in his eyes. And every time I meet that gaze, I feel the strange, unshakable familiarity tugging at me—a whisper in the back of my mind that insists I know him, that maybe I've known him far longer than this one night. But I can't let myself get swept away in that feeling. Not yet.

We talk for hours about anything and everything, I tell him about the flowers below us, and what they symbolize, and in return, he tells me of the stars in the sky, the constellations, and each of their names.

We talked about things that I never voiced before, but there was a steady comfort in his presence that made me feel like I could confess even my deepest mistakes and he'd nod with understanding in his eyes, not a flicker of judgment.

We didn't go into the ballroom the entire night, had taken up the small seating area that curved around the side of the building I hadn't noticed before.

"So, princess," he says, smirking as he leans his back into his chair, arms folded in a lazy, practiced ease, "if you weren't here, what kind of trouble would you be getting yourself into?"

I think for a moment, letting my fingers graze the ivy-covered stone. "Trouble? I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I'm sure you don't." He smirks, an amused glint in his eyes. "I pegged you for the rebellious type the moment I set eyes on you." He goes on.

I shrug, glancing out over the shadowed garden below. "Well, clearly you don't know me very well," I reply in a snarky tone, my lips curling into a teasing smile. "Perhaps I'm a perfectly obedient daughter who follows all the rules."

His laugh is low and rich, sending a pleasant shiver through me. "Now, I find that hard to believe," he murmurs, tilting his head to meet my gaze. "A wildflower like you, growing in a gilded cage? No, I think you're meant to be out there—" he gestures to the dark mountains beyond the garden, "—living on your own terms."

My cheeks warm under his gaze, but I lift my chin. "And you? What about you, oh wise stranger? Surely you're not the type to follow anyone's rules but your own."

"Oh, I'd follow them," he says, his voice dropping to a playful murmur, "if you were the one making them."

I feel my face flush at his words, but I can't resist matching his grin. "Be careful what you wish for. I'd hate to ruin that roguish charm with a few boundaries."

"Boundaries?" He raises an eyebrow, laughing. "I don't believe you’re the kind of girl to put them in place, life's far more interesting without them, don't you think?" He cocks his head in an all too demeaning fashion, as if he knows me better than to even suggest such a thing. I can’t help but smile at the familiarity, of being truly seen and known, it was foreign, but welcomed. “More than you know,” I reply, a softer atmosphere taking over with the tenderness in my voice.

"So, what does someone like you dream of seeing?"

It's a simple enough question, but I find myself hesitating, surprised by how much I want to answer, how easy it feels to open up to him. "I want to see everything," I admit, my voice almost a whisper. "Every corner of the world. The mountains, the seas. I want to taste the air in different places and feel the ground under my feet where no one else has walked. I want to be free."

It's more than I've ever shared with anyone, especially someone who doesn't even know my name. I swallow, feeling suddenly vulnerable, but when I glance at him, his gaze is warm, and understanding. As if he knows exactly what I mean.

"I think freedom suits you," he says softly like he's revealing a secret. "It's in your eyes—the way they look past this place, like you're already somewhere else entirely."

His words send a shiver through me, and for a moment, I can't find any words at all. So instead, I look away, watching as the sky shifts from deep indigo to a paler shade, hinting at the dawn. "Maybe one day I'll get to see it all," I say, more to myself than to him.

"I have a feeling you will." His voice is quiet, almost wistful, and I glance back to find him watching me with that same, unsettling familiarity, as if he, too, feels this strange pull between us.

We fall into an easy silence after that, leaning against the railing side by side as the stars start to fade. Occasionally, he says something that makes me laugh, and I find myself telling him things I'd never tell anyone else—about the books I love, the dreams I've buried, the way I crave a life that's different from the one set out for me.

He listens, really listens, his attention never wavering. And in return, he shares pieces of himself, though I sense he's careful, holding back just as much as I am. He speaks of a family that has expectations, a life lived beneath a weight that isn't always visible. I don't pry, but I nod, letting him know I understand.

The sky lightens, a faint glow spreading over the horizon, and I can't help but feel a pang of regret as the world around us starts to wake.

"You know," he murmurs, his voice low, "I think this might be one of the best conversations I've ever had."

I laugh softly, though my heart aches a little at the thought of this night ending. "You don't get many opportunities to talk with strangers on balconies?"

"Not like this," he says, glancing down at me, his expression unreadable. "Not with someone like you."

There's something so earnest in his gaze that I feel my resolve waver. I want to tell him who I am, to share every piece of myself, but a part of me resists, clinging to this fleeting anonymity.

"Thank you," I say softly, and I mean it more than he could ever know.

"For what?" he asks, his tone warm.

"For reminding me that people can be kind. That they can listen." I smile up at him, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and hope. "I think I needed that."

The first light of dawn glimmers on the horizon, casting a soft glow over the garden. Slowly, he reaches out, taking my hand in his, his touch warm and steady. I feel his thumb brush gently over my knuckles, and it sends a wave of warmth through me, a silent promise in his touch.

"Maybe one day," he says softly, his voice barely a whisper, "we'll meet again. Maybe fate will give us that."

I can't bring myself to say anything, so I simply nod, letting myself savor the feel of his hand in mine for just a moment longer.

As the first rays of sunlight touch the garden below, he releases my hand, stepping back with a soft smile. He gives me one last, lingering look before turning, disappearing through the terrace doors and back into the world from which he came.

I stay there, watching as the light fills the sky, feeling like I've lost something precious and found something rare all at once.

Comment or reblog with a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

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[mvrtaiswriting]

Hey! Someone suggested your blog for one piece and I decided to check it out!

I’d also like to make a request

How would the monster trio(+katakuri if you wanna write for him) be with a s/o who always looks at them as if asking them for permission to beat some one up (you can add anyone else if you want) f!reader or gn! Reader whichever one

Headcanons pls<3

Have a great day!

Monster trio + Ace, Law and Usopp with a s/o who looks at them before fighting someone.

hullo, thanks for requesting this! i unfortunately dont write for katakuri but i added law and ace to the mix, i hope it's fine! enjoy this lil headcanons, i loved writing these!! also, using this as a chance to restate that requests are open!

warning: none. gn! reader.

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee. 

Luffy: All it takes is a glare. It doesn't take long for Luffy to recognise the sparkle in your eyes. He feels it too; the tension building in your muscles, the adrenaline rising up in your veins making your heart beat ten times faster than usual. Lowering his straw-hat to cover his eyes, Luffy simply chuckles in response. He knows your potential and he is curious of the limits your able to reach and break. He takes this as a good opportunity to train and test your powers; nevertheless, he is watching your back and ready to step in.

Sanji: Sanji smirks and lights up a cigarette, making himself comfortable and untying his tie. He knows well that whoever crosses your path is in real danger - and he brags about it whenever he has the occasion to. He is overly proud of you; plus, winning a fight would always guarantee a special treatment from him. Preparing your favourite meal, smothering you in kisses, an endless ramble of praises. He enjoys the fight, making sure you don't get hurt as he meticulously observe your combat moves.

Zoro: Zoro tries to make you back off. Despite his love and respect for you, he would rather let you stay away from the battlefield. He is aware of your combat abilities, he just thinks it would be easier if you'd let his swords deal with it. Nevertheless, it's easy to convince him if you buy him an extra bottle of booze. After all, despite his protective instincts, he enjoys a partner who can fight and protect themselves. Seeing you go feral and win a fight always tickles his senses.. so you might be in for a good, particularly nasty training session afterwards.

additional characters:

Law: Law definitely doesn't approve your conflictual nature. Although he is a little trouble maker himself, he prefers approaching things, and fights, in a more methodical way - having a precise strategy, and more importantly, a reason. Getting caught up in a worthless fight would mean catching the marine's attention, and that would be dangerous. When he sees you joining the battlefield regardless, he sighs and stands back. But if you manage to get hurt.. be ready to hear him grumble under his breath about irresponsible you were as he medicates you.

Ace: You and Ace would meet looks, the same impulsive idea running through the synapses of your brain. He nods in response, a clever smirk drawing on his lips as he transforms the ramble in a challenge.

"First one to land a punch wins."

Usopp: Tries to discourage you from it. He knows you would be perfectly able to win the fight - but he also knows he would struggle to help you. Your fearless nature worries Usopp, and sometimes it makes him wonder how the two of you get so along. Dangerous situation fuel you, whilst he prefers running from them. Usopp would never give you the permission to battle someone if the situation permits a safe escape - a long, frustrated sighs is the only slightly positive answer you could receive. And when you jump head first in the battle, he whines and snorts, ready to snipe the enemy if the situation escalates.

[bamboobooshark]

Hiiii I just found your page and omg I love your writing so much. I actually did get into an argument with my friend, and I deactivated one of my intas cuz of it (long and stupid story) but it was really comforting to read Logan wanting to coddle and comfort someone yk

You can ignore the request if it makes you uncomfortable, but do you think you can write something where the reader doesn't really know or understand what regression is or why they feel this way so they isolate when they feel childish or playful or start annoying people without realizing it and Logan who loves and cares for them starts to miss them and is like wtf and helps them.

Thank you for your writing I hope you have an amazing day.

LOGAN HOWLETT X LITTLE!READER

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ☁️་༘ COMFORT & CONFUSION : 991 WRDS

<RATING : PG, VULENRABLE MOMENTS, CRYING>

A/N : Just a little note for Anon; I am so heavily greatful that my fic was able to bring you so much comfort. I hope you’re recovering well from what happened. Apologies for taking so long to get this out for you, I always get caught up in spilling and detailing my concepts that end up becoming full fics. I truly hope this fic is what you were hoping for <3 !!Warning for a pinch of angst and crying!!

You’ve been isolating yourself in your room since you woke up. You feel so confused with yourself, with your mind, with your feelings. You press your back against your headboard, legs crossed one on top of the other. You gently rock back and forth while struggling to understand how you’re feeling; why you’re feeling the way you do. Yeah, you’ve got a ton of energy right now. You feel like you’re letting your inner child express itself in your mind, yet you’re holding them in as best as possible. You’re terrified of annoying anyone by releasing those feelings, espically Logan. You bite and chew at your lips nervously as you rock a bit faster. Why? That’s the only question you can ask yourself right now. Over and over, your mind fills itself with nothing but confusion of why you feel like this, why you yearn to be so childish, why you’re scared of annoying Logan when he loves you unconditionally.

You’re quickly snapped out of your thoughts as the man knocks on the door. “Everything alright in there, kid,” he asks with his face pressed to the wood. God, the way he calls you kid only makes these foreign feelings harder to suppress. You choke back your tears before responding. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just feeling a little down,” you reply with a tone that’s involuntarily soft and childlike. Logan raises his brows at the way you speak to him. You’ve never kept yourself away like this, but he’s been noticing a pattern lately. You isolate yourself the moment you wake up, beg him to leave you alone, and then come out quiet and reserved. He continues to press because he misses you so damn bad. He’s willing to do absolutely anything to get you in his arms again. “Please tell me what’s wrong, bub. I promise I’m not going to be upset with you,” he pleads with the softest tone he can force out of his throat. “I mean, I’d be more upset if you didn’t trust me with whatever you’ve got going on,” he chuckles akwardly.

You wipe your tears before inviting him in. The second he realizes that you’re crying, his lips form a frown and his eyes give you a sympathetic gaze. “Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry, baby. I’m right here. I’m not leaving, I swear,” he scrambles to reassure you, sitting on your bed and pulling you into his arms. You let your cries get thicker once you lean into his. He smells so fatherly. His large, calloused hands make your entire body shiver with comfort. Everything about him is sending an unknown, unfamiliar feeling that you’ve been yearning for. You can’t even begin to imagine what to call it, but your body allows you to relax under his touch. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out. Tell me what’s up once you’re ready to,” he coos as his hands rub up and down your back. You nod against his chest, letting the thumping of his heartbeat soothe you.

You pull back from his embrace, but hold his hands in your own. His touch is what you’ve been needing. Scratch that, you’ve been needing Logan in general. You attempt to try and explain things, but you end up stammering and stuttering. “I’m sorry, Logan. I just — I don’t even know what to say,” you apologize while looking away from him. He squeezes your hands gently and sighs. “You don’t need to apologize, kid. I’ll be here as long as you need me to be. If I have to wait here for hours for you to get your thoughts together, I don’t mind. You know that, bub,” he tells you sincerely. You look at him and give him the best smile you can considering the circumstances.

You take a deep, shakey breath after a few minutes of silence before attempting to describe your feelings. “I’ve just been feeling like a child lately. I’ve had so much energy and excitement and joy for no reason. It’s so confusing and it’s scaring me Lo, it really is. I just want an answer,” you explain to him. His thumb rubs against your knuckles lovingly before he presses a silent kiss to your forehead. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry. You’ve got such a big heart, kid. I need you to understand that you don’t need to be afraid to let those feelings loose around me. I’ll love you no matter what,” he promises while holding your face in his hands so you’re looking at him. You nod gently, eyes glossy and wide from the way he comforts you so paternally. “I understand,” you mumble back, letting that same childlike voice slip. Logan gives you a gentle smile, failing to hold back a snicker. “Well would you look at that. You sound so little, baby. It’s adorable,” he says while attempting to hold himself back from squeezing your face. You giggle softly and shake your head no. “It’s not adorable, Lo,” you protest. Your stomach knots as you allow yourself to slip into this pure, innocent state. As soon as Logan begins to coddle you further, that knot unties itself and becomes a flutter in your heart. “If you deny anything else I say, I’ll have to find a way to get back at you for it. You’re too damn cute to not accept that you are,” he playfully threatens. “C’mere you sweet thing,” he growls as he pulls you into his lap. “No! Let me go,” you giggle sweetly, squirming in Logan’s arms despite wanting to stay right where you are forever. “I’m not letting you go, kid. You’re mine. My sweet little thing that I’ll protect with my life,” he declares before starting to pepper your face with soft kisses. You can feel him smiling like an idiot against your skin from the sound of your giggles, the way you smile, and the warmth of your face caused by him.

[yeonzzzn]

hi! im new here so i dont really know how this works… im so in love with your writing so i’d like to ask whether or not you’d be open for writing about bf!jake fucking you from behind while you wear his jersey. smth like you were wearing his soccer jersey and turned him on. hehe thankyou! :3

I actually LIVE for requests like this. I already know jake loves seeing you wear his clothes, it turns him on so bad. but seeing you in his soccer jersey?? oh LAWD. it would drive him insane.

he would be having a soccer game later that night, and what better way to support him than wearing one of his extra jerseys? you’d surprise him by standing on the bleachers, hair pulled back into a ponytail with your favorite pair of ripped skinny jeans that jake also loves oh so much because of the way they hug your thighs and ass. he’d see you standing there, looking all cute, with his jersey on…boy would be hard immediately. not being able to think straight. only the thoughts of bending you over literally any surface and fucking you into oblivion.

the minute the game would be over he’s rushing you both back to your shared apartment, wasting no time after the door was closed to pin you against the wall, lips on yours and tongue down your throat. “seeing you in my jersey is such a turn on, baby, fuck you’re so hot,” he moans against your lips, hands fumbling with the button of your jeans and sliding the fabric down along with your pretty red panties down your legs.

jake picks you up in his arms, guiding you to the edge of the couch, setting you down and flipping you around, face pushed into the cushions as your dripping wet cunt is exposed to him. oh you’d be a sight to see. jake is DROOLING at you bent over so pretty for him with his jersey on. not wanting to waste another second, his soccer shorts and boxers are off and thrown some else into the living room, his hard cock so red and angry and pulsing with need to feel you wrapped around him.

he pushes into you with much need and want but slowly. slowly pulling himself out to his tip, then pushing back in. but the moment his hips meet the plush of your ass, his hands are gripping your hips and slamming you down onto him. you release a loud, wet moan, “jaeeeee,” you moaned his name and making his grip on your hips tighter as he fucks into you.

jake would start to lose himself in the pleasure, head spinning from how fucking good you feel. his eyes would lock onto your face, seeing the way your mouth is gapped open chanting his name like it’s the only word you know. and then there’s his jersey, it would be bunched at your waist, his number barely being able to made out but his last name sat perfectly in place, resting up below your neck.

he reaches down and places his hand on the back of your neck, fucking into harder and a faster pace, eyes locked onto “SIM” and ears focusing on your breathing and moans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans, “you look so fucking good in my jersey, seeing my last name spread on the back. letting everyone know at that game that’s you’re mine, fuck it’s so sexy, you’re so sexy. so good for taking me like this.”

his words combined with the way he fucked into you had you seeing stars, your release washing over you in one swift motion. jake’s head is now hung low, seeing the ring of your cum wrapped around his cock, making him twitch and moan at the sight, his own climax being reached, filling you whole with his seed.

“wear my jersey more often baby girl,” he whispered, “I love fucking you in it.”

[starkwlkr]

Hi can you write a verstappen reader x charles where they're dating in secret but max founds out and he gets mad, you can work out the story, maybe a lot of angst but a happy ending, I love your writing.

friends don’t kiss friends | charles leclerc

btw max and charles hate each other in this so i apologize in advance for all the lestappen fans <3

Max would kill Charles. No, he was going to kill Charles. It was an exaggeration, but it would probably come true.

Y/n Verstappen knew her true feelings. She knew what she wanted and what she wanted more than anything in the world was to be with Charles. He was caring, loving, the perfect man in her eyes. But Max would never allow his older sister to be with him.

So they saw each other in secret.

Max had almost caught the couple once. He had stopped by his sister’s apartment in Monaco and saw Charles’ Ferrari parked outside. When he knocked on the door, Charles opened it thinking it was the food they had ordered.

“Y/n, it’s your brother.” Charles called out to his girlfriend. “Excuse me mate, go to go.”

“Leaving so soon?” Max asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got a family lunch tomorrow. Good to see you.” Charles said coldly.

Y/n appeared, having changed from Charles’ shirt to one of her own. “You didn’t tell me you were coming over.” Y/n said to Max, who was busy glaring at Charles.

“I didn’t think I’d have to. You’re my sister.” Max replied. “I was just about to ask Charles here why he could come over but I can’t.”

Charles’ heart started beating faster. What was he supposed to say? Confess to their secret relationship? ‘Hey, by the way, I’m having sex with your sister!’

“I asked him to.” Y/n spoke. “He mentioned he wanted to make something for his family lunch tomorrow so I told him he could borrow my book where I keep all my recipes.”

“Then where’s the book?” Max asked.

Y/n then brought out a book she had been hiding behind her back. She then handed it to Charles. “He was just leaving, Max.”

Charles grabbed the book. “Thank you.” Was all he said before he walked to his Ferrari. Once inside, he watched Max start to argue with Y/n. He started feeling guilty knowing he was the cause of it.

He wanted to be able to kiss Y/n in public, hold her hand, take her on dates. He was sure Y/n wanted that too, but if she ever revealed that she was dating her brother’s rival, the name Verstappen would no longer belong to her.

After that day, Charles was more careful when he visited Y/n. Instead of taking his Ferrari, he would order an Uber to her apartment. Sometimes he would spend the night because Y/n convinced him to. (And also because those were the nights Max wasn’t in Monaco so they didn’t have to worry about him coming over)

Y/n was happy with Charles. He treated her with respect, she did the same to him. Their love was real, something Max would have trouble understanding.

When Max finally found out, he refused to talk to his sister. It was during the inaugural Miami Grand Prix. Y/n had watched her brother win the race while her brother came in second. It was a good weekend so far. When the podium ceremony came, instead of wearing hats, they were given football helmets. Y/n laughed at Charles, who found her in the crowd of people and winked at her.

After the ceremony, she made her way to the Red Bull Garage. She wanted no more than to celebrate both Charles and Max, but that would never happen. When Max found her, he grabbed her forcefully by the arm and dragged her to his driver’s room, ignoring her insults she had thrown at him.

“You fucker! You’re hurting my arm!” Y/n punched Max’s shoulder, trying to get him to let her go. Finally, they reached the room where Max had let her go and closed the door behind them. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“How long has this been happening?” Max asked.

Y/n saw the look in Max’s eyes. He was furious. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said.

“Don’t act dumb. How long have you been sleeping with him? Days? Weeks?” Max threw his 1st place football helmet to the ground.

“It’s my life. You don’t get to control who I see!” Y/n tried to leave, but Max held her back. “Let me go!”

“Why are you doing this to me? Why him?” Max asked. He felt betrayed.

“I’m not doing anything to you. He loves me.” Y/n defended the love of her life.

“Does he?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I know him. I know how he is, how he thinks and he’s the worst.” Max went on.

“Well I know him too and I know he would never hurt me. But you are. You’re my brother, Max.” Y/n felt a tear go down her cheek.

Max shook his head. “You’re not my sister.”

Those words hit Y/n hard. Why wouldn’t they? Max was always there for her, cared for her, loved her. That day, Y/n and Max stopped talking.

When Charles found Y/n, she was a crying mess. She had explained everything to him.

“He hates me. He said I’m not his sister anymore.” Y/n cried to Charles in his driver’s room.

“Hey, you’re going to be okay. You’ve got me and my family. They love you more than anything. We’re going to be okay.”

Charles kept his word. The Leclerc family became her own. When she attended races, the Ferrari garage became her home instead of the Red Bull garage. She would sometimes pass by it, but never looked inside or asked for Max. They were strangers now.

Y/n spent all the holidays, birthdays and anniversaries with the Leclercs. Soon enough, she was planning a wedding with Charles.

“The invitations came in.” Y/n told Charles as she showed him the wedding invitations she had custom made.

“They look great, mon amour.” Charles kissed her cheek. “Lorenzo and I are going to take Arthur suit shopping. He says he can’t find the right one. I’ll be back soon.”

Y/n nodded and kissed Charles’ lips. After he left, Y/n was all by herself in their shared apartment. She picked up an invitation and stared at it. She was finally going to get married. But of course something was missing, or rather someone. She still wasn’t in contact with Max. Sure they were at the same events all year, but they never asked for each other. She missed him everyday.

When they were younger, Y/n always thought Max would attended her wedding. He would be by her side, dance with her, but none of that was happening.

Yet.

Charles hated lying to his fiancée. He hated it with a burning passion, but he knew he had to to something about Max. Truth was, Arthur had found his suit the day after Charles and Y/n announced their engagement. Now Charles stood in Max’s apartment. Kelly had let him in while Max had just gotten out of the shower.

“What are you doing here? Did you let him in?” Max asked Kelly.

“She did. I’m here to talk to you about Y/n.” Charles said. “We’re getting married.” Kelly excused herself and left the two men to talk.

“And you want me to congratulate you?” Max scoffed.

“No, I’m here to invite you to the wedding. She’d want you there believe it or not. She does care about you, Max—”

“Then why did she have to fall in love with you? She could’ve had anyone and she chose you.” Max interrupted. “She chose you over her own family.”

“She didn’t. You disowned her. You left her hurt. She cried every night for three weeks and guess who was there? Me. I love her and if you can’t see that then you’re obviously blind as shit.” Charles dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “That’s the address.” He put it on the coffee table.

“What? No proper invitation?” Max rolled eyes eyes.

“Don’t push it.”

The day of the wedding finally came. Y/n couldn’t wait to call Charles her husband. She stood in front a full length mirror admiring her white dress. Pascale had helped her with her hair while she applied her makeup.

“Thank you again, Pascale.” Y/n said to the older woman.

“You look beautiful. Charles is going to cry when he sees you.” Pascale smiled. As Y/n looked at herself in the mirror, Pascale heard a light knock on the door to the dressing room. The Leclerc woman walked to the door and slightly opened it thinking it was Charles trying to take a look at Y/n’s dress. She was surprised to see Max in a suit.

Pascale looked back at Y/n, who was too busy fixing her veil. She then turned to Max. “Does she know?” Max shook his head. Pascale sighed and asked Max to wait. She closed the door and walked back to the bride. “ma fille, there is someone here to see you.”

Pascale’s words made Y/n froze. She could only think of one person. She turned to face Pascale. “He can come in.” She nodded at the woman.

As Pascale went to let Max in, Y/n started to take deep breaths. Was she actually ready to face Max? She didn’t know. Was it even a good idea for him to be there? Again, she couldn’t tell.

“I’ll leave you two alone. I’m going to check on Charles.” Pascale excused herself and left the room.

Y/n had her back turned to Max, only this time she was looking at him through the mirror. “You look dumb.” She said.

“So do you.” Max replied with a dry laugh. “You look pretty.” He cleared his throat.

Y/n laughed. She knew how Max was when trying to compliment someone else. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, well your future husband insisted I come. He told me you care about me.”

“I didn’t stop, Max. You’re my brother.” Y/n finally turned around to face him. “Why do you hate Charles so much? He makes me happy.”

“I guess I didn’t want you to leave me.”

Y/n’s heart broke. Everyone knew how hard Jos Verstappen was on his children, especially Max. Over the years, Max had gone to his older sister for comfort, something Jos was unfamiliar with.

“I know it’s selfish of me. You can hate me all you want, hate me until you die, but I just want to say I’m sorry for everything I ever did and said to you. You’re always going to be my sister.” Max confessed.

Y/n wiped away a tear. “I don’t hate you and I’m not going to hate you until I die. You’re so fucking dramatic.” She laughed through her tears.

“I can leave if you want me to. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry.” Max nodded. He was about to leave the room when Y/n spoke once again.

“Stay.”

The wedding was the most beautiful wedding Max had ever attended. He sat next to Charles’ brothers. As he looked at Charles and Y/n, he felt proud of the life his sister had made.

“You may kiss the bride.” The priest announced. Charles didn’t have to be told twice. He kissed Y/n as if it was the last time they would ever kiss. To them, it was like they were the only ones in the room.

“You know, Y/n once told me her and Charles were just friends.” Max whispered to Arthur, who lightly laughed. “Friends don’t kiss friends.”

[astermath]

pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader

summary: robin falls head over heels for the cool girl renting horror movies at family video. steve can’t believe her awkward shyness is actually landing her a date, but he’s happy for her nonetheless.

word count: idk kinda short lol under 1K

notes: just wanted to write a little blurb, then it turned into something else, so enjoy this short little meet cute with robin ♡

normal sized font below!

Robin really is that love at first sight kinda girl.

She’s the type of girl to be busy sorting tapes at family video, when you walk in, all pretty femininity and mysterious aura around you. And suddenly she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She doesn’t know where she is, why she’s there, hell, she probably wouldn’t be able to tell you her name if she asked.

She doesn’t stop staring at you, not when you enter and not when you walk over to the horror section to pick something out. Only when Steve nudges her in her side, she snaps out of it, looking more flustered than ever.

“Dude, can you not?”

“Sorry man, it just— looked like you were falling asleep with your eyes open! What’s with you anyways?”

Robin doesn’t respond, simply averting her eyes to the cash register and hoping Steve doesn’t pry any further.

Which would have worked, if you weren’t talking to her right now.

“I’m sorry, can I—“

“Yes! Yes, absolutely, you can…” Robin trails off, realising she hasn’t even let you finish your request. Her own eagerness embarrasses her to no end, her face heating up and her cheeks now closely resembling the colour of a tomato.

To her surprise, you giggle. You’re not awkward about it at all, which somehow makes her fall for you even harder.

“I was gonna ask what the latest time would be when I’d be able to return this.” you smile, and the blonde girl is certain it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

“Oh! Yeah, totally, no problem! It’s uh— a great choice, by the way. I love friday the 13th, sooo good, all that horror stuff, a huge fan—“

“A week.” Steve interrupts her rambling.

“Huh?” Robin turns to her friend.

“To answer her question, since you’re too busy being head over heels over here.”

You chuckle again, and Robin genuinely thinks her head is going to explode. Not only is her best friend making fun of her in front of you, but you’re not even making her feel bad about it. It’s like you find it cute or something. How crazy is that?

“Cool, I’ll just uh,” you hold up the tape, “rent this one then.”

Robin rings you up, her hands moving faster than her mind, and she hopes you don’t notice the slight shakiness in them. It’s not every day the prettiest girl in the whole world shows up at her job, so she’s not exactly prepared.

“Thanks,” you take the tape from her along with the receipt, your fingers touching slightly when she slides them over. Now you’re the one who’s getting the butterflies.

“So, you said you were a fan of horror movies?”

Robin nods enthusiastically, while Steve has to bite his tongue to hold back from saying that that’s the biggest lie ever. Robin isn’t a coward, not at all, but she’s the worst at scary movies. She’s just saying all this to impress you. She doubts it’s working though.

“Well, I was gonna watch this alone, but…” you grab a pen off the counter and scribble down your number on the receipt. “If you feel like watching it together, give me a call…” you pause to read her name tag. “Robin.” You smile again. “Nice name.”

“T-Thanks! You uh, you too!”

“Thanks, even though I… Haven’t told you yet.” You write your name down next to the number. “Now you know.”

“Huh…” She reads it over, not being able to keep herself from smiling like she’s sunshine incarnate. “That is a really nice name though.”

You grin, grabbing the tape off the counter and stuffing it in your bag. “Well, Robin, I’m free this Friday, if you wanna take me up on the offer.” You start walking backwards and give her a quick wave. “See y’around.”

She waves back, although more hesitant. Frankly, she’s still processing the entire encounter, and the fact that you’re real. Someone as beautiful as you exists, talked to her, even gave her your number. She didn’t know a reality like that was possible.

“I can’t believe that worked.” Steve scoffs in disbelief, though he’s pretty stoked for Robin all in all. He wants his friend to find her special person as much as he does for himself.

“Yeah,” she stares as you walk off, “me too.”

The freckled girl groans loudly and drops her head into her hands. “Why the fuck did I say any of that? Why do I always just keep talking?”

“I don’t see the big deal Buckley,” her coworker leans against the counter, “you got your date, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but then what? Then what do I do? I might have been able to charm her with my awkward idiocy this time, but what if we watch the movie and she finds out I’m a huge wuss!” She gestures around wildly with her hands, earning a confused stare from one of the older customers.

“This is going to sound so stupid, and I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he runs his hand through his brown locks, “but just like, be yourself? She seems nice enough, I’m sure she won’t judge you for being a total scaredy cat.”

“Not helping, Harrington.” She gives him a defeated look.

“Sorry, you know what I mean.”

“But what if she does?”

“What?”

“What if she does judge me? I mean jesus Steve, I wouldn’t blame her! She’s like— way out of my coolness league! She’s practically doing charity work watching a movie with me.”

Steve scoffs. “Don’t sell yourself short, Buckley, you’re plenty cool. Besides, if she does judge you, then clearly she’s not worth it. But again, I think you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, already picturing her holding onto you in fear of a completely fictional serial killer. “I guess you’re right.” She goes quiet for a moment, before she’s back to daydreaming about the whole scenario. The two of you on your couch, shoulders touching, maybe an arm around her, hands brushing when you reach for the popcorn, all that sappy stuff…

“Buckley?”

Maybe you’d find it cute that she gets scared. Maybe you’d wanna protect her. She gets that vibe from you, that you’d keep her safe from all the Freddy Kruegers and Jason Voorhees of the world.

“Robin!”

Steve snaps her out of her daydreaming, gesturing towards Keith who’s about to enter the store.

“You two organise those tapes like I asked you to?” Their manager isn’t even looking at them, struggling with putting away his car keys.

Robin swipes the tapes off the counter and stuffs them randomly into the two boxes. That’s a problem for later.

“Yup! All sorted! Good thing I love organising stuff!” She laughs awkwardly, and Steve is fighting for his life trying not to laugh.

She’s got bigger things to worry about right now. Like what to wear for her date with you. And what kind of snacks you like to eat with your movies. And how she’s going to explain that the scariest thing she can handle is Frankenweenie.

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

A MAN OF GOD 🙏 PRIEST! AIZEN X NUN! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 11: HUMILIATION

🐙 requested by: Anonymous. Hello! I hope you're doing well! Can you write about humiliation with Aizen and female reader, please? I think it's Aizen's style. They really love each other, but in bed Aizen likes to humiliate her. And can u add domination kink from Aizen's side? ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. Aizen is a priest. Reader is a nun. YES. But please don't take this as a way of disrespecting religion. This is just fiction. HUMILIATION. slapping. shoving things into your mouth. spitting. mouth fuck. choking. 🐙 wc: 1,6k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

“Father forgive me for I have sin” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Sister, confess your sins” “I’ve been having blasphemous thoughts about a man. Father Aizen, what should I do?” 

The little window of the confessional slides open; chocolate, sharp eyes appear from such tiny opening. A tuft of hair falls in between the two orbs hidden under transparent glasses, his index rests on one of his temples… Father Aizen looks more like a devil than a man devoted to the sacred. 

“A man you say, sister? How come the devil was so strong to corrupt you? aren’t you a devotee?” he asks. His tone is charged of full judgment, even with disgust. 

You look down to your hands; a rosary tangles on them, carving its beads into your skin. A life dedicated to celibacy, disrupted by complete impurity. 

“I’ve been able to stop myself every time, but the need… the urge, the lust… are eating my mind like a…”

“Like a worm? Have you experienced the need to touch your body, sister?” 

“Yes, a worm. Like a worm eating my brain and my insides, Father Aizen. But I haven’t succumbed to it… yet” 

Aizen remains silent; he hums, letting you know he is thinking of a possible solution… or rather, a punishment. 

You can hear him standing up; Father Aizen is quite a large man, and the creaks of the wooden surfaces let them know he is about to open the door that separates you from him. 

“Sister (Name)” he mutters; your stomach turns upside down, your legs underneath the black long skirt of your nun habit pressing together. 

There it is, the sinful need… father Aizen, it’s you… the man I’m lusting for is no other than you. 

“Stand up, please” he commands, smirking oh so sexily. Why, sir, are you doing this? aren’t you a man of God? 

You obey; instantly. The confessional is by far small, the air becomes scarce, your heart pumps faster, your consciousness requires your flesh to be flagellated. 

Father Aizen’s hand slides through your cheek and into the veil that covers your hair. His fingertips have gone as far as they could reach, breaking rule by rule. 

“I can tell the way your skin reacts to the touch of a man. How warm has become… what have you done, Sister? Are you lying to me? Have you stoop so low to give your body pleasure, hm?” he asks, cornering more and more against the wooden wall of the confessional, so much you can even smell the scent of incense penetrated on the surfaces. 

You try to articulate any words; you haven’t touched your body; you even fought the need to do it while bathing. But now, father Aizen… I’d give it all for you to do it. 

“No, Father! I haven’t!” you deny, shaking your head violently with eyes shut tight. 

“Show me your hands, Sister” he asks, calm but dominant. 

You do, the beads are almost drawing blood from your palms from how tight you are gabbing them. 

Aizen takes a moment to inspect them, and slowly untangles the rosary from your wrists. 

“Open your mouth, Sister”

“Yes, Father Aiz-fpmgh” 

Your can’t keep talking, as he has pushed every rose wood bead in, getting them shoved into your mouth. 

“This mouth has spoken many sinful lies already; you should only speak words of God” he grunts, pushing the rosary more and more inside your mouth. 

Tears run from your eyes and into your cheeks. You try to cough, but it’s almost impossible if you don’t want to choke. Yet your eyes, avid for more, look up at that man with more than hunger… a look proper of a possession. 

Father Aizen smirk grows bigger, he looks at you from above, with disgust and superiority. His hand then reached for your cheeks, pressing them strong and painfully making the beads inside of your mouth to carve into its inner walls. 

“Why are you looking at me like that? You seem to be possessed by some sexual impure demon, you disgusting whore” he whispers with disdain, close to your lips. 

Your smile -do the best you could do to do it- as you keep looking up at him; yes, disgusting whore… I am, indeed, a disgusting whore for wanting to fuck you, Father Aizen… 

The first slap leaves your ear ringing. The second slap, your cheek on fire. The third, your body against the wall. You have lost balance, literally and internally as well. 

And Father Aizen seems to be just starting with the “exorcism”, because you have no time to stand back up as he forces you to do it by ripping the crucifix hanging from your body. 

He turns the silver chain around until it’s closely tight around your neck; a single twist more and the blood flow from your carotids to your brain will be interrupted. 

“Do you know why we wear this, Sister? Because we don’t sin. Because we owe everything to our God… but now, whore, devil, your God is ME. And you obey and serve ME… isn’t that what you wanted? Do you really thought I didn’t realize you looked at me with eyes of lust?”  Aizen whispers into your ear, making you tremble, and so weak. 

He rips your veil off your head, allowing your hair to fall down your shoulders. Savagely garnishing your face, in such beautiful concupiscence. Oh, by the only existence of your womanhood you are making this man desperate… who’s the sinner here? 

The white collar around your neck gets ripped as well. You always thought but never proved how strong he was. 

Aizen grabs a fistful of your hair, tangling around his wrist for a better grip. Immediately after, you get shoved against the wooden wall, making you put one of your knees on the little seat. 

You only whine; it hurt… but the anticipation, the doubt… what is he gonna do next? 

Aizen pins your chest against the wooden surface, and his back against yours. Inevitably, you can feel the growing hardness of the father against your ass. His sex and the accelerated breathing on your neck, like a true demon attacking you from behind. 

“Now, let’s check how aroused you are…” he whispers; the warmth of his breath reaching your nape makes you feral. 

His hand slides with no delicacy down the long skirt and into your sex. Aizen is pleased to find only panties, absolutely dampened from desire. 

“Hmmm, too wet. You are more than possessed, you might be devil itself… what a disgusting being…” he scoffs, moving your panties to the side and sliding one of his slender fingers in between your folds. 

Covered by your honeys, his index now abandons your sex and reaches your lips. “This is how wet you are, dripping down your legs like a desperate animal...” he says, as he smears your juices all over your mouth and chin. 

“Spit the rosary, bitch” he orders, giving short slaps to your lips and waiting for it with his hand open. 

You do, letting every bead slowly fall from your mouth, imbued in saliva that also falls like drops, into his palm. Up until the last one is out, Aizen enjoys the degrading look on your face, the way you stick your tongue out when you are done and the way he pulls your head backwards from your hair to spit into your mouth right after. 

Instantly after, he turns you so that you sit down that little wooden seat. 

“Spread your legs” he commands, while he takes his belt off and lowers the zipper of his priest pants. 

You do, and with his leather shoes he proceeds to take down your panties. Aizen smirks to your cunt in display, as you instinctively lift one of your legs to spread your cunt even further. 

“What are you doing, whore? Mh? Showing me that impure cunt of yours? I will use all your holes, don’t worry…” he spits, coming closer with this dick in his hand. 

Aizen, before even fucking you, would like to fuck your mouth first. And so, by strongly grabbing your nape, he finally penetrates your lips with a merciless thrust. And then two, three, four. Endless ramming that makes you gag and tear up the more it hits your throat -and even further-. 

He sometimes pinches your nose, going in and not taking his dick out for a couple of minutes to see you turn almost blue from the lack of oxygen… it’s just that the gagging around his gland feels like a religious experience. 

And as that, it feels for you as well, who are also ordered to touch yourself until the point of squirting all over your clothes. 

But Aizen despite telling you he is your God, he is just a man… and his climax ends up with a grunt and smirk, all over your mouth and face, smeared by his hand with great pleasure. 

“Look at that, covered in cum… are you happy now, whore? You like your God ruining that sinful face of you?” “Ye-yes, Father Aizen…” 

But Aizen wasn’t over, he was just starting with the mass… and a sick, devilishly love was just about to grow stronger… I wonder how far that ungodly acts went unnoticed?  Because Father Aizen has always been a loving, soft, sacred and pure priest… his soft looks, his eyeglasses… who could say he is a corrupted man? A man that considers himself a God instead of serving one? 

Taglist of amazing babes: @awas-posts @missfuriosa @theneighbourhoodferret @cyberdazetragedy @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919

[moonlight-prose]

✧ BASIC NEEDS ✧

a/n: this one is simply a short filthy blurb for this man. i wrote it faster than i intended to, but the inspo was alive the other night. it was a nice change of pace to write something like this compared to the angst i usually give him. which don't worry there will be more angst coming. also...yes the gif was necessary. his tongue is the main character in this one.

day fifteen - cunnilingus + cum eating | kinktober 2023

summary: "you’d call him insatiable, addicted without any way to appease the craving he had. and you’d be entirely right. he was addicted."

word count: 1k+

pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cunnilingus, oral (f receiving), cum eating, assplay, ass eating, sex in a public place kinda, bradley being unhinged.

You’d call him insatiable, addicted without any way to appease the craving he had. And you’d be entirely right. He was addicted. Unable to stop himself from needing a taste of you, a small amount to hold himself over until the next time. But those small promises of ‘let me do this baby I need it’ soon became so much more. Which is usually how you ended up in this position.

The noise of the bar was muffled through the bathroom door, but you couldn’t have focused on it even if you tried. Halfway through the night after two hours of playing pool and chatting with the boys, he had dragged you back here. The hunger was clear in his slightly glazed eyes. Although you wanted to bet no part of him was drunk on the alcohol he���d been consuming.

If there’s one thing about Bradley it was that his tolerance outmatched everyone at the bar. Able to drink each of them under the table two times over. A feat he’d tested several times.

Your hands were pressed to the door, head hanging forward, teeth digging into your bottom lip so hard you could taste copper. Except it was the only thing keeping you quiet as he knelt behind you. Tugging up your dress and sliding your lace panties down your legs. They pooled around your ankles, the color three shades darker than usual. A light pink now turned a mauvy purple. He grunted at the sight, hands cupping your ass as you arched your back towards him and that’s how you knew…he had you.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he mumbled, eyes stuck on the way your pussy was shiny with slick, your arousal clear. “How long have you been like this baby?”

You sucked in a breath. “Hours.”

“Poor baby.” He spread your ass, a moan getting caught in your throat at the obscene way he stared. “Shoulda told me. I’d have taken care of you.”

“Fuck.”

His cheek pressing to the back of your thigh, breath hot against your skin and it did nothing but make you squirm. “I can fucking smell you.”

“Bradley,” you whined, your hips pushing back slightly. You heard him chuckle and it made your cheeks burn, body practically shaking with need. “Don’t tease me. I can’t take—”

Your gasp was sharp, body slumping against the door when his mouth sealed over your pussy. Tongue sliding through your folds—his moan vibrating through you. When it came to eating you out Bradley was messy. He loved how he could turn you incoherent. How his touch brought you to life. He sucked at your clit, the sound echoed in the small confines of the bathroom, making you feel debauched. As if he wanted the whole bar to hear how he ate your pussy.

How much he enjoyed it.

“Tastes like fuckin’ heaven,” he mumbled, spreading you even further and pressing his tongue at your entrance.

“Oh god,” you moaned, cheek pressing to the door when he pushed forward, thrusting the wet muscle into you as his thumb found your clit. Sliding along it with quick movements.

His moan was loud—depraved—as he licked at you like you were the tastiest thing in this fucking bar. Although to Bradley you were. To him you were the sweetest slice of life that he could have. The lucky charm that he’d always searched for. You were everything he’d ever wanted and then some. Which is why the craving he consistently had, the addiction he had to your taste—your sounds—never eased.

Pulling away, he glanced at the way your eyes had fluttered closed, mouth parted and chest heaving. Eventually someone would come looking for you. If not that then the bathroom would be occupied by others. Yet he wanted to take his time. To strip you of everything except his touch—desperate to watch as you fell apart over and over again. Unfortunately that wasn’t something he could do here. So he dove back in, ripping a high pitched moan from your throat.

Two fingers curled into your wet heat, nudging perfectly against that spot that made your legs shake in your heels. The feeling of pleasure burned through you, shoving you towards an earth-shattering peak. One Bradley loved to drag you over.

“‘M gonna do this again when we get home,” he said, biting into the flesh of your ass. “I’ll eat you on the kitchen table like a proper fuckin’ meal.”

“Ah fuck I’m g-gonna—”

His tongue slid through your folds, a moan being pressed to your pussy that you felt in your toes. “Want to feel you baby.”

You were right on the edge. The sensations that coursed through you nearly sent you to your knees, but Bradley was holding you up. Keeping you stable as he had his way with you. The feeling of his spit hitting your asshole, trickling down to your pussy shoved a shocked moan up your throat. His tongue sliding along the tight puckered hole, sending you even higher.

“Don’t stop. Please, fuck.”

He moaned, fingers speeding up and tongue pressing forward. His other hand sliding up, thumb pressing into your ass, sent you flying over the edge. You slapped a hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your shout as you came. Gushing over his fingers and trembling against the door. He groaned, continuing to lick at you until you reached behind you and shoved at his head. Unable to take much more.

“I got you baby.”

You gasped, pressing your hands on the door to give you some leverage to stay upright. Only for him to lick through your pussy again, dragging a high pitched whine from your lips.

“B-Bradley I can’t—”

“I know honey.” Yet he didn’t stop, drinking you down with sloppy wet sounds that made your heart race. “Let me just taste you. Need it so fucking bad.”

Your eyes rolled back when he sucked your clit into his mouth, your cum now smeared across his chin. Shiny proof of what he’d been doing. You didn’t stop him this time. Fully ready to collapse on the floor as he licked at you, moans echoing in the room as he devoured you. He was starved and who were you to deny him his favorite meal? The taste of you.

[grandline-fics]

Hi! Liquid Courage introduced me to your work and I love the way you write so I thought I should trust you with a request of mine:)

Law x reader; in one point in time one of them subtly confessed but the feeling seemed to be unrequited They both are pining for each other, both have a sweet spot for each other and a connection beyond friendship but both just turn a blind eye to it/not think too much about it. One night after drinking a bit much Law(or reader) starts getting a little touchy but not in a sexual way. (ex. they are sitting next to each other and he slowly hooks his pinky with hers) The touches convey untold truths that are still felt the next morning. After that the touches and the longing stares continue until one of them breakes by the intensity of the moment and decide to confront the other.

I will leave the fate (and the nature) of said moment up to you. Thank you in advance for considering it! Cant wait to read more of your work<3

ps if it helps you in any way in my mind this is kinda angsty. I love angst+possessiveness but I don’t mind how it will come out for you! Really I don’t t mind if you switch up the whole scenario… whatever works for you

If you’re inspired by music, these two play in my mind: All i need- Radiohead + Just pretend- Bad Omens

DESCRIPTION: You’re both silently in love and finally decide to confront your feelings

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption, brief angst at fear of unrequited feelings, mostly fluff

CHARACTERS: Law

WORDS: 1,591

A/N: Thank you so much for this request. I hope I was able to create something that matched what you were looking for and that it's to your liking.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

From the day you joined the crew Law knew you were someone different. You had a presence he relaxed around a lot faster than others he’d encountered in his travels. You managed to gain his trust and proved yourself a capable and crucial member of the team and situated into the crew to the point no one could really remember a time before you. It felt effortless to be around you and Law counted you amongst one of his most trusted and closest friends. And for the longest time friends was all he considered you to be. Whether through a mix of sheer obliviousness and professional refusal to indulge his feelings any further than that. The line was clearly established that you two were just friends. 

However the heart wants what it wants and emotion is very separate to logic. Despite you both maintaining a friendship as deep as they came, your bodies still sought each other out. When it came to chores you were always close by. If not side by side you where always in the same room. When he was working on medical tasks you were his second, working in silent tandem with your own set rhythm that no others could match if they tried. While it annoyed the crew to no end why nothing deeper ever happened between you both, they decided to say nothing out of fear that if they did point out the obvious connection then that flow and peace between you both would shatter and be destroyed. 

One evening the entire crew were in the communal area celebrating Bepo’s birthday with a lot of drink and laughter. You called it quits after a round of a drinking game was finished and moved cautiously to the closest sofa for safety, knowing that you were less than graceful when you’d been drinking and the last thing you wanted was to injure yourself and disrupt the festivities. Law smiled down at you as you slumped into the space beside him, resting your head lazily on his shoulder. While he hadn’t been actively playing with the game he had been steadily drinking and was at the same level you were. “Sure you didn’t want to play to the end?” He asked curiously.

“Nah, another round and I’d have been passed out.” You mumbled, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. A slow content smile spreading across your lips when Law also moved to accommodate you, his hand curving around your waist so you slotted better against him. Neither of you paying much mind to the position from both the alcohol in your systems and the natural feeling that overcame you both to be seated like this. As you both continued to watch and laugh at the antics of the crew who were still conscious and playing their game, your hand rested over his, your fingers absently looping around his. 

Occasionally through the remainder of the night Law would subconsciously play with your fingers that were looped through his, he only became aware that he was doing it when it was finally time to go to bed. When your hands parted and you reluctantly shifted your weight off of him to stand you both became acutely aware of the lingering sensation of each other’s warmth and touch still clinging to your skin. The walk to your own room was a hazy blink but as you settled into your bed, you couldn’t help but touch your hand, doing all you could to memorise the feeling of his touch as you fell asleep. 

The next morning you woke feeling a strange kind of weight on your shoulders and mind that had nothing to do with all that you’d drank the previous night. It was a good thing you knew your limits with alcohol so you could wake relatively hangover free, still a little stiff and dehydrated but nothing that would leave you bedridden all day. No this feeling was the awareness of how you felt with Law and being in his presence brought you. The more you thought about it the more you saw that you’d felt this way for the longest time, you just hadn’t truly brought it to the forefront of your attention before. 

You got out of bed and readied yourself for a new day, grateful that it would be a day of minimal tasks and filled with a lot of free time given how heavily the crew had been drinking for Bepo’s

birthday which meant you had the time to organise your feelings and adequately deal with things between you and your Captain. You were also grateful that the abundance of hungover crew meant you would have extra privacy in case things weren’t resolved amicably. You walked down the corridor and stopped outside of Law’s office. Regardless of the previous night’s party he was always here first thing in the morning without fail. As always you knocked once out of courtesy and entered, closing the door firmly behind you. When you met his gaze you felt yourself freeze. You could see the realisation and hesitation you were feeling mirrored in his eyes. As comforting as that should have been you still couldn’t bring yourself to move closer or speak. 

“About last night.” “We should talk.” You both spoke in unison, a hurried mess coming from both of your mouths as opposed to your usual calm and relaxed way of speaking around the other. You fidgeted where you stood and gestured for him to speak first while clearing your throat. Law watched you carefully and let out a long sigh, noting how tense you stood and how you kept looking into his eyes and dropping your gaze again only to repeat the action less than a second later. Were you only trying to maintain eye-contact with him out of respect but failed to do so because of shame? Was it regret? He knew how he felt but the last thing he wanted was to force something on you. “Last night I overstepped the mark. Yes we’d been drinking but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Oh…” You were taken by surprise by his somewhat stilted declaration. Had you misread things? You hadn’t thought so. Now you were even more confused and found disappointment spinning in your stomach, the feeling only furthering your awareness that you had genuine feelings for Law. You weren’t known to be insubordinate but today you felt like pushing things because his statement truly didn’t seem like the man you thought you knew. “Captain, you held my hand and I returned the gesture. That’s not overstepping the mark. That’s barely walking in the mark’s direction… Do you regret doing it?” As you spoke you couldn’t help but run your thumb over your fingers that had been in his hold mere hours ago. “Because I don’t.”

“Regardless…It’s unwise to further this topic.” Law tried to sound firm but he was honestly thrown, he hadn’t been expecting you to feel the same as he did but he’d spent all last night and this morning trying to convince himself his feelings were one-sided and that it was fine that way because he shouldn’t pursue a relationship with a member of his crew. He wasn’t one to get his hopes up and at the same time he was also one to deny himself of something that made him happy to prevent the pain of losing it in the future. “We would be better to leave things as they are before they escalate.”

“Does that mean you want things to escalate?” You asked coyly finally taking a step towards the desk he sat at. 

“It wouldn’t be right for me to start something with my subordinate.” Law offered the argument, not able to give much weight to his words as he openly watched you approach, giving no inclination for you to stop or to leave. You both knew that had he wanted you out of his presence he would have either ordered you away or used his Devil Fruit to accomplish the task himself. 

“Captain, we’re pirates. What’s right and wrong and rules don’t exactly apply to us. Do they?” You asked simply, keeping the desk separating you both to allow him his personal space as you smiled at him. “All that matters is what we want. I’ve been honest, will you be honest with me, Captain?”  

Law stood and braced his hands on the desk, beginning to close the distance between you both. You’d made convincing points and deep down he hadn’t wanted to find a way to argue against them, not when it came to you and the feelings he’d finally accepted to himself that had been there for a very long time. “Are you sure about this?” He asked, offering you one final chance to take it back because he knew once this started he wasn’t going to let you go. Your answer was a simple one, you leant in with a smile and curled your fingers around his that were braced against the surface of the desk. The wordless but deep connection you had with each other was reestablished and cemented even further as you leant in, able to share a soft and tender kiss with your Captain. However the moment couldn’t be savoured for long because within seconds the chorus of calls echoed through the Polar Tang as the rest of the crew had awoken and were suffering their hangovers and calling for their Captain to help them cure it.

[musamora]

HIHI congrats on 1k !! I adore the way you write for fyodor, it's so so nice to read and I love the characterization

For the event could I please request a wild berry cheesecake (fluff) with the prompts "do you need to use your safeword?" And 'aftercare' with fyodor. Thanks you sm <3

wild berry cheesecake order three — calliope’s confectionary

content. gn!reader. heavily implied not-safe for work, non-sexual nudity, aftercare, hurt/comfort. notes and translations at the end. not proofread. 1.1k+ words. ⟶ features fyodor dostoevsky.

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.

Quality time with Fyodor is rare. He’s always twisted into another scheme, spending every waking hour of the day in front of his monitors. You prefer he takes care of himself whenever he sanctions a proper break, not wanting your lover to step into an early grave—which he reminds you he can’t do—but there is an exception.

Because indulging in him is a rarity on its own, only to be held on special occasions. The evenings when his mind descends from the heavens to worship something a bit more carnal. 

His lack of stamina takes a backseat to his methodology of stimulus. Your limbs float away with only a touch as you sate your desires through the fire of his fingertips, playing you like the very instruments he adores—but you have been his favorite to play.

However, your body grows heavy, aching with a pain you cannot name. Not the sweet kind that tips toward an edge. This one only burns. Your breath weakens, trembling as he slows.

“Do you need to use your safeword? he coos, breath brushing against your ear.

The world drifts into a haze. Your mind has slowly emptied, and your thoughts slip away faster than they arrive. You blink several times, attempting to reaffirm reality as it falls from your fingers, but you can only lie there and breathe.

“Любимая, look at me.”

Your eyes grow heavy from an overwhelming warmth drifting from your head down to your feet. Lashes flutter shut, only to open as a hand cradles your chin, and you fail to make out the blurry form before you.

“You can barely function,” he remarks proudly, hair falling in front of his eyes as he looks down at you. “Let alone handle another round. As endearing as you are like this, I’d much rather not break you.”

Your breath catches as his fingers graze your racing pulse.

“At least not yet.”

You can’t help but moan as his hands glide across your curves like he’s mapping them to memory, messaging the bruised apex of your hips with careful strokes.

“Красивый, моя дорогая. You certainly have an afterglow.”

“I look like a mess,” you mumble, finally able to regain partial speech function.

“Hm. But was that not the exact intention?” You shudder as he nips at the hypersensitive, hickey-stained bow of your neck. “You knew what you were in for.”

“Sadist.”

He chuckles, leaving kisses instead. “There you are.”

You tremble with uneven breath as he cleans your inner thighs with a rag from the bedside table. He smirks as he pries your legs apart to look upon his work, soothing your burning skin with his cool touch.

“You’ll need to be cleaned if you don’t want to risk infection,” he says, disregarding the cloth onto the floor to lift you into his arms.

“But I’m comfy,” you complain, stretching away from him in an attempt to grab the sheets.

“Now, now.” He threads your fingers together, effectively breaking your grip. “None of that. We both need to wash up before it’s time to sleep.”

You mumble your complaints, but he only acknowledges them with an amused shake of his head, carrying you into your cozy shared bathroom. The first time you saw it, you laughed, unwilling to let Fyodor in on what was possibly so funny about the little room. You had chosen not to comment on the homey atmosphere he crafted that contrasted with his everyday persona. Even now, the sight of the thoughtful decor fills you with warmth.

You try not to doze off for the second time as he settles you on the countertop, momentarily removing himself to draw a bath. His entertained huff stirs you awake as he helps you off the counter, balancing you as you step into the water. 

He removes the small remaining clothes he has on, slipping in behind you before you lounge against his chest. You tap your fingers to an unsung melody as he works to lather soap across your skin, scrubbing and massaging as he goes.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You hum in reply, not paying much attention to his words.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he continues. “There’s still much work to do before we go to bed.”

You frown. 

“Don’t remind me.”

“Remind you of work?”

“Remind me that you won’t be there when I wake up.”

The minstrations of his hands pause, but you don’t take it as a sign to stop. Your exhaustion has loosened your lips, and the thought of keeping your words at bay only tires you more.

“I’ll find the bed empty, and you’ll be in your office, hunched over a screen like always,” you utter, wiping away the frustrated tears that escape as your confession catches up to you. “Sorry. This is stupid.”

You brace yourself for a familiar lecture, a stern voice explaining that his work is important and impertinent to your shared future. It’s a sentiment you don’t care for and a sacrifice you loathe—you may understand his intentions, but it doesn’t mean his actions don’t feed your isolation.

“I’ll be there.”

Your eyes widen, and you crane your head to look at him, not believing the words falling from his mouth. His expression is one he has never made in your presence, eyes softening with a vulnerability and frustration equal to yours.

“We can sleep in tomorrow.” His voice sounds so tired, making you want to hold him. “It’s time to rest.”

You refuse to break this moment with any more words than necessary. Instead, your fingers intertwine with him, and you carefully bring his hand to your lips, afraid he’ll shatter. You know you’d never be able to explain to anyone that this is the man you love. From his masks to the truth lying underneath it all, you’ll remain by his side until the bitter end.

You almost laugh as he wipes stray tears from your eyes, the dam breaking without your knowledge. But as you sit in the lukewarm water, as nude as the day you were created, you find that you’re completely satisfied.

любимая = darling красивый, моя дорогая = beautiful, my dear

TAGLIST: @imhandicapableofmath @ishqani @squigglewigglewoo @deepseafragments @osameowdazai @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @osarina @ruru-kiss @yonseibananamilk @saeandscaralover @vnk91t @v4mpash3 @quaao @meiluvrr

thank you for the request dear! i hope you'll like it <3 i've only realized recently that i haven't made a masterlist for this event. woops! hopefully, that should be done and up soon :D

© MUSAMORA 2024 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[luxaofhesperides]

(yourlocalcorviddad)

Wait wait wait, can there be more written about the one with Duke going on college tours with Danny??? If it's not too late?!??

(part one)

Danny’s been in love with Duke for years now. It’s always been kept a closely guarded secret, buried under as many wraps as he could get it. He tried to chase after other fleeting crushes in the hopes of moving on from his feelings for Duke, sure that they were never going to go anywhere.

How could they, when they lived states apart? 

The Danny back then would have never believed that he would one day be waking up in Duke’s arms in a hotel far away from home, traveling around the country to figure out a future together. 

Or rather, planning their own futures by each other’s sides, rather than planning to be together throughout college. Danny knows they’ll be spending even more years apart, chasing after their dreams, but it’s a gift just to a a summer together again. So what if it leads them to living on opposite sides of the country? They’ve managed to survive a long distance friendship for this long, they can keep it up for another few years.

And if it comes to it, Danny can just fly to wherever Duke is. He’s only gotten faster over the years, settling into his powers and practicing them so often. 

The future is daunting, but all his nerves are chased away by Duke’s smiles. 

“Can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says as they get settled at a restaurant in Massachusetts. They’re both tired, but the giddiness of getting together, of knowing their feelings are requited, keeps them energized and happy despite the long drive across state lines. 

“One state left, yeah?”

“Yeah, and I got Harvard first on the list so we can visit Jazz.”

“You’re the best,” Danny grins, stretching his legs out under the table to lightly knock his foot against Duke’s. 

This entire trip has felt like a daydream to him. It’s one thing being able to travel around the country with Duke, but to be able to kiss him wherever they go? Even now, two weeks later, Danny can’t believe how happy he is.

It makes the uncertainty of his future less scary. It helps distract him from how much he wants to escape his parents, despite how much he loves them.

Their conversation comes to a brief pause as a waiter comes by to take their order, writing everything down before hurrying away to keep up with the rush of activity in the semi-busy restaurant. 

“Oh,” Danny says, suddenly remembering the third person in their group, “Is Peter going to be joining us?” 

Peter, Duke’s chaperones, is odd but funny. He disappears and reappears like a magician, always carries a gun on him, and treats Duke like a little brother the rare moments he’s around. He’s mostly only been with them to act as transport, driving them around from university to university. 

Duke’s face does something strange when he hears Peter’s name, but it’s gone before Danny can figure out what that’s all about.

“Nah,” he answers, “He’s off doing his own thing. You’ve seen how he likes to follow his own plans.”

“So I guess we’re stopping here for the day?”

“Yeah. I’m sure we can find somewhere nice to spend the night, and until then we can explore—” Duke takes a quick moment to check the name of the town they’re in, helpfully stated on the restaurant’s wall of five star reviews “—Baldwinville. I’m sure there’s something for us to do around here.”

“I mean, we don’t have to do anything special, you know. I’d be happy to just to spend the day with you.”

Duke smiles softly, reaching over the table to take hold of Danny’s hand. “I’d like that too. Maybe we should just take some time and explore the place together. Have a relaxing day before we head to Cambridge.”

“That’ll be nice. I feel like it’s been forever since I had a quiet day.”

“Same!” Duke laughs. “Gotham’s wild, man. Did I ever tell you the story of having a barbeque with Killer Croc?”

“No! I can’t believe you kept that from me!”

Duke launches into the story as if it’s any other day, just the two of them hanging out. Danny’s enraptured as he always is when Duke shares his Gotham Stories. He doesn’t falter even when their food is brought out, and Danny tries not to blush too hard when Duke feeds Danny some of his meal, just so he can try it. 

There’s a reason Danny sometimes daydreams about what his wedding with Duke will look like, and it’s because of this.

But that’s getting way ahead of himself! He shoves the thoughts away and focuses on the story, enjoying their lunch together. 

Duke pays when they’re done, as has become routine; Danny had fought him about the first few times before Duke told him that it was all ‘Bruce fucking Wayne’s money so they don’t need to worry about costs.’ It’s a gift from the man himself to Duke, and rejecting it would be rude. 

That hit Danny right in his midwestern politeness and he could do nothing but let it happen, already planning thank you gifts for Bruce Wayne. 

They walk out into the quiet streets of Baldwinville, hand in hand. Summer has the air humid and full of buzzing insects, and the sweet scent of flowers surrounds them as they head down the sidewalk, idly looking into the display windows of each store they pass. The buildings are old, mostly made of brick, and carry a charm that’s lacking in the urban sprawl of Amity Park.

He likes it here. 

Honestly, he’s been liking a lot of what he’s seen in Massachusetts. 

He wouldn’t mind spending a few years here as he gets his Bachelor’s degree. Of course, it all depends on if he gets into the colleges of his choice, but he’s feeling hopeful about his future. He’s worked hard to bring his GPA up after his freshman year, and his ability to juggle and extreme workload has made him a master at getting things done before deadlines and adapting to things at the last minute. 

Danny idly swings their clasped hands between them as they walk, savoring the time they have together. 

The end of their summer trip is creeping up on them and Danny can feel the distance between them start to pull tight. 

They don’t speak until they wander into a park, just a large grassy field filled with wildflowers and bees. There are a few benches placed beneath large trees and Duke leads them over to it to take advantage of the offered shade.

“I can’t believe we’re almost done,” Duke says, sitting down with a sigh. He tugs Danny down after him, and Danny goes willingly. He swings his legs up to drop them across Duke’s lap, leaning against him, his heart fluttering when Duke gets a hand around his thigh to keep him in place. 

“I don’t want this summer to end,” Danny admits. “I’m not ready to leave you again.”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’m not going to be away from you any longer than I have to.”

Danny can’t resist the urge to lean over and kiss him, so he doesn’t. Duke meets him with a smile, keeping the kiss slow and sweet, though the way his hand skates up Danny’s thigh sends molten heat through his veins.

He pulls back before they can escalate any further (one time in public was enough; he’s still embarrassed by it and can’t look Peter in the eyes) and leans his head against Duke’s shoulder. “It would be nice if we could live together.”

“Planning out our future already? Well, in that case, I want a dog and a pet snake.”

“Why a pet snake?”

“Just feel like it.”

“A dog would be nice,” Danny says, “As long as it gets along with Cujo. Not sure about the snake, but if you can take care of it, I’d be fine with having it around.”

“Think you’d ever live in Gotham?”

Danny considers, then shrugs. “Maybe. I dunno, it sounds like a lot and I already dealt with so much just with the ghosts in Amity Park. But I don’t think I’d mind if I was with you.”

The smile that crosses Duke’s face is soft and Danny wants to see it all the time. He loves when Duke gets flustered; Danny just turns red and shy, but Duke becomes soft and adoring in a way that makes Danny feel like he’s holding sunlight, all warm and happy.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Duke says, not yet able to bite back his smile. “Now that we’ve visited most of the places on our list, do you know which ones you’re going to apply to?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Danny answers. He’s been thinking about where he wants to go since summer started and he left school with Mr. Lancer reminder everyone to think about college and preparing their applications. 

It’s been a topic that’s never left his mind since for the past couple months, wondering about what the future holds for him. He honestly never thought he’s get this far, having died at 14 and struggled to adapt to how his life changed after. But he’s gotten back on track with school, has a handle on the ghosts, and the support of his parents to go anywhere he wants. 

For so long he’s been stuck in the routine of school, fight, struggle. There was never any time for anything else, much less planning for the future, and now it’s hanging heavy over his head. 

At least he gets to be with Duke as he figures things out. It’s like going back to their childhood, spending summers together, but they’re both grown up now, walking ever closer to the next stages of their lives. 

He’d love to get into MIT, but he knows the chances of being accepted are insanely low. He’ll apply anyways, just in case, but Danny’s prepared to go somewhere else. Maybe somewhere else in Massachusets. Or maybe go to New York. 

“I really liked the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. If I get in, I think I’m gonna go there,” Danny says, putting his hopes for the future into words.  

“Yeah? I think I might try to get into a college up here too,” Duke replies. “If things work out, we won’t be so far from each other.”

“And even if we do end up far away again, we can make long distance work. Right?”

There’s a worry in the back of his mind that Duke won’t like a long distance relationship, that he’ll be off in college falling in love with someone else, but there’s barely a second before Duke says, “Of course,” as though it’s obvious. Like he hadn’t considered any other option. 

Danny’s heart settles and he shoves away the rest of his general anxieties. There’s no time for that now! 

He intends to enjoy the rest of his summer trip with Duke to the fullest extent possible, which means all of that is a problem for Future Danny.

“Should we go find Peter? We’ll need to figure out where we’re staying tonight.”

“I think we can go a few more hours to a bigger town,” Duke says, “Not that this place isn’t nice, it’s just too quiet. It’s weird.”

“Alright, city boy,” Danny says, standing up from the bench. He pulls Duke up after him, leaning over to kiss the exaggerated offended expression off his face. It’s not like he’s wrong, anyways; Gotham is a big city, and Duke is an urban boy through and through, especially compared to Danny, who comes from a large town and has family living in reclusive rural Appalachia.

“Small towner,” Duke returns, nipping lightly at Danny’s bottom lip and laughing when he squeaks in surprise.

He pulls away before Danny can retaliate, and Danny lets him go, saving his revenge for after they get to their next hotel. 

Their time together is coming to an end soon, and as much as the future terrifies and excites him in equal measure, knowing Duke will be with him, one way or another, gives him the courage to keep going.

He hopes Jazz will be happy that Duke’s dating him now. He’s already hoping to ask her to be a bridesmaid for him.

[messrmoonyy]

I recently found your writing and I can’t believe no one had requested tribbing with Tess. I’d love if you could write something just a drabble even? IT WOULD BE SO. SEXY. MESSR.

Tess Servopoulos x Reader

Wc- 1K | 18+

Navigation | Tess Masterlist

You didn’t know what had come over the both of you today. You’d been at it like rabbits, you’d actually lost count of how many times you’d actually had sex since that morning… or did it all just count as one really really long act? You didn’t care either way. You just couldn’t seem to get enough. And neither could she. Maybe it was because she had been gone for 3 days, stuck on work duty on the other side of the zone and not allowed to return home.

But she was home now. And you had both jumped each other the second she’d walked through that front door. And even now, god knows how many orgasms in, you were still grinding against her desperate for another.

And to your mild surprise she seemed to love it just as much.

Her breaths were escaping her in short quick puffs, fingers kneading at your flesh as your sweat slick bodies slid against each other.

Your oversensitive clit rubbing against hers in a way that made you see stars. You looked at her with lust filled eyes, as you hesitantly began to grind against her in a way that was a little more purposeful. Her mouth fell open slightly as your clit bumped hers, hands moving to grip your hips harshly. You knew it’d bruise. You hoped it’d bruise.

“Fuck, baby just like that ” She said encouragingly, her voice in that husky gravelly tone that would’ve soaked your underwear in a second. If you were wearing any that was. She used her hold on you to move you more into a rhythm she seemed to like, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. A high pitched moan escaped your throat, overwhelmed by how good it felt.

You begin to match her pace, moving your hips faster with the help of her hands. There was something about the way she was using you, guiding your hips to grind against her, using you to get herself over the edge. Which was something you didn’t get to see all that often. And you’d been granted the honour more than once today. And now you wanted to see her come. Wanted to see that face because of you, because you were pressed against her. Your wetness was mixing with hers in a way that caused an unbearable sense of possessiveness to flare up in your chest.

“ I wanna see you come ” you whimpered, breath quickening as you watched her “ please Tess. Please” a small smirk found its way onto her face and she was gripping at you tighter, increasing the pressure of your clits pressing together. The sounds alone were so lewd you could feel your cheeks burning, which was silly, but it was so… hot. You couldn’t tell where her wetness ended and yours began, could think of nothing other than the way her clit was grazing against yours. Your sensitive folds sliding against the other.

“ you look so good like this ” she said, voice breathless “ such a good girl for me huh? “ her praise made you tremble, even more so than you already were. Everything was sticky and hot, utter desperation filling the air.

She moved slightly, moving her hips a little differently in a way that made your vision blur.

“ oh fuck “ you gasped, white hot burning pleasure flashing through your veins as she pressed against your over sensitive clit in a new way.

You were throbbing against her, rutting against her like an animal in heat. She was gripping at you like her life depended on it, looking at you like she needed you to breathe. You could feel the pressure building, so unbelievably close.

“ close baby?” She asked, always able to read you like a book. She knew what every sound meant. Every look on your face “ gonna come for me yeah? “

“yes, yes ” You whimpered, eyes falling closed. You grabbed at her, nails digging into her sweaty skin in a way that must’ve heart. But she said nothing. Unintelligible nonsense was falling past your lips, your legs and hips were aching but you couldn’t stop “ Tess- Tess “

You forced your eyes open, needing to see her face, needing to look at her. Nothing in the world could compare, nothing would ever be able to beat the sight. Her eyes half lidded and filled with lust and desire for you. Her tits moving in a way that was almost hypnotic as she kept grinding against you. Her skin flushed, shiny. She was like a goddess before your eyes.

“ such a good girl for me “ she almost whispered, voice strained and breathy. She was close too. You pressed against her harder, moving faster, so unbelievably desperate.

Your movements grow more sloppy and she kept you at pace, practically moving your hips for you and you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“ Tess. Gonna. Tess “ you whine as an orgasm crashes into you for the.. you didn’t even know what time it was now. Tess continued to work your hips against her, the lewd wet sounds increasing. You could feel it gushing out of you, mixing with Tess in a way no one else would ever get.

“ that’s my girl. So fuckin sexy like this “ Your clit throbbed against her, her hands still moving you until it was almost unbearable. But she was chasing her own orgasm now “ almost there- almost baby “ you whined and whimpered as your oversensitive clit brushed against hers, pushing her towards the same fate as yourself.

Suddenly her grip on you grew painful, a short moan escaping her lips and eyes screwing shut “ don’t stop baby- don’t “ Her body trembled as she came and you pushed through the overstimulation to grind yourself against her yourself, hips stuttering as you tried to prolong her orgasm as long as possible.

When her grip on you changed you knew she was done and you let yourself collapse against her, breathing heavily against her own quickly rising and falling chest.

“ holy shit “ you whispered, body going heavy with post orgasm bliss and exhaustion as she wrapped her arms around you.

“ yeah, holy shit “

[smolcinnamonchipmunk]

Mid-Fight Snack

(Elloooo. Been another while since I've been able to get around to posting actual stuff. I'd love to post or make more, but I have two animations I'm trying to work on and an entire cosplay that's taken up all my freebie because I don't know anything about sewing, lol. Obviously hasn't stopped me from thinking about Honkai a lot. Anyways, here's the Boothill vore writing finally! Hope it's not too bad, I'm a bit sleep deprived.)

Word count: 6233

TW/CW: Soft, safe m/nb G/t vore aaaaaand, I think that's literally it.

____________________________

“Behind ya, small-fry!” was about the only warning I had before being shouldered aside by a wall of metal, blinking in surprise as I spun around to see who just ran past me. I saw the retreating form of a very gray-toned humanoid with a red sash over their shoulder and white and black hair flaring out behind them as they ran, looking vaguely familiar. I squinted when I noticed the hat on their head. Was that the cowboy Dan Heng told us about that we met briefly in the Dreamscape?

I’d feel bad for not remembering his name if we hadn’t just barely met.

“Get back here!” was the only warning I had as I looked back at where the cowboy came from and saw a bunch of IPC personnel and robots charge around the corner towards him. And, in turn, me.

Having spent more time on the run than not in my time after joining the Express I ended up yelping and bolting down the hall after the cowboy. My footsteps were drowned out by the stampede of footsteps behind me and the sound of crashing and screaming ahead as the cowboy flung a few tables behind him as he passed, disturbing several guests and staff as he rushed past.

It wasn't until I rounded the corner after he turned down a hall that I realized that I probably should have just jumped out of the way because me running after the cowboy away from the IPC definitely made me look like an accomplice.

“Fucking damn it,” I hissed under my breath at the thought, jumping over the legs of another knocked over table. I realized too late that there was a couple still standing way too close on the other side but managed to avoid slamming into them. My shoe landed on a grape strewn on the carpet and I yelped as I almost slipped.

Narrowly avoiding faceplanting on the ground, I ended up straightening and locking eyes with the cowboy as he turned to look over his shoulder, seeing it widen slightly at seeing me. To be fair, I was only maybe twenty feet behind him compared to the IPC crowd that were chasing behind me still struggling with strewn furniture and passerbys.

My eyes widened as I saw something glint other than his exterior in his right hand, holding my hands slightly in front of me in a mock surrender to show that I was unarmed, quickly shouting, “I'm not IPC!”

“What the fudge are ya doing tailin’ me then?” the cowboy barked back at me, finger looking a bit too close to the trigger for my liking.

“I panicked when I saw the IPC guys running around the corner and it wasn't until I already started following that I realized I probably looked like-.”

“Criminal and accomplice west-bound towards main lobby elevators!” a robotic voice shouted behind us, one of the large, round robots that was way too quick for its size.

“Yeah, that,” I sighed, rolling my eyes and lowering my arms. It was weird holding my arms still while running.

All of IPC in the hotel probably knew about this chase. I only hoped that the Aventurine guy that almost cornered me in my room wouldn't show up. If fighting him in the dreamscape reflected anything about reality, I didn't want to be part of accidentally tearing the hotel apart fighting him to get away.

The cowboy stared intently at me for a second before growling low in his throat and holstering his gun with a flourishing twirl of his hand. I fully expected him to turn back forward and ignore me now that he determined I wasn't a threat, but instead he suddenly dropped pace to match me. He definitely was faster than me normally, but he’d been throwing so much stuff behind him and swerving through people that it slowed him a little whereas I was given almost clear passage in his wake.

“If you ain't IPC, why the fudge was your first thought at seeing these muddle-fudgers chasin’ after me to tag along,” he asked, voice sounding like he didn't fully believe I wasn't IPC.

“Well,” I replied, very glad that I had enough stamina to run and answer at the same time. I yelped when the cowboy suddenly twisted beside me, throwing down a tall potted plant as we ran around another corner, narrowly missing crashing into an elderly lady. “I haven't been around much, but everytime the Express has stopped somewhere there's been at least a couple times where we end up running from someone or something.

“Usually I'm with a group, so when you started running, my instinct was to follow like with them,” I finished sheepishly, looking to the side at him and almost startling. I'd been too focused on running to realize how fucking tall he was, needing to crane my neck a bit to look up at him.

“Well, fork me sideways and call me a son of a nice lady!” The cowboy exclaimed and laughed, showing off shark-like teeth. The eye not obscured by his hair glanced down and met my gaze for a moment, giving me a solid glimpse of dark gray iris with a red pupil and… was that a white crosshair in his eye? “You're one of them Astral folks with the Xianzhou fella!”

“And you must be the cowboy guy that broke onto the Express that Dan Heng told us about,” I blinked a bit at the realization, and a little at his odd speech patterns. One of the first things after waking up from the dreamscape being a check in with the other Astral Express crew with one of the weirdest things being Dan Heng messaging about how a cowboy got onto the Express. He had glossed over the fact that said cowboy showed up armed, but Pom Pom had been more than willing to share that fact in the chat. Looking back at the herd of IPC behind us, I asked, “Did you greet people at gunpoint again?”

“Where I come from, that’s just one of the many ways to say hello,” he chuckled. His face fell with mine as more IPC turned the corner at the end of the hall ahead while shouting, his expression turning into a scowl. Guests and staff alike glanced between the two walls of IPC personnel converging with us in the middle, most wisely making the decision to try and press against the walls or retreat back into their rooms to stay out of the way.

“Shit,” I started looking for other ways to turn, suddenly very much disliking the lengthy straight hallways. My eyes noticed a set of double doors to the right just as the cowboy shouted, “On the right!”.

I prepped myself to manifest my baseball bat to slam through the doors but the cowboy reached them first, sprinting ahead and spinning around to slam the back of his boot spur-first against the weak point of the handle. I’m not even sure if the doors had been locked, but I was glad we were both on the same page of better safe than sorry.

“After you, darlin’,” the cowboy paused just long enough to let me through first and I heard the rattling click of loading ammo as I passed, presumably taking out his gun again, the sound of his heels trailing behind on the carpet behind me.

“’Ppreciated, cowboy!”

I slowed slightly as the hallway ended up being incredibly short, leading to an expansive open area with tiled floor that we definitely only had a few seconds to take stock of before the IPC after us would start trickling in. Several types of gambling tables and a bar were in here, with a few scattered sitting areas with tables and luxurious plush chairs, and at least one pool table with the only thing breaking up the entire space being supporting pillars and various lamps or potted plants decorating the place.

At least a dozen eyes looked towards us as we ran in and I booked it towards what looked like the clearest path through the lounge, shouting, “Don’t mind us, just passing through!”

A crash behind me made me jolt and look behind myself, seeing the cowboy flip over a table as we ran by, scattering gambling chips, cards, and glasses of alcohol all over the ground as the people around the table scattered. Patrons started getting up and moving as far from us as possible, some making their way to the exits. Which, from the other sounds behind us, the exit where we came in was starting to be blocked by incoming IPC.

“Do you have to keep knocking shit over,” I asked, trying to temper some giddiness as I glanced back, the cowboy looking behind him with a smirk towards the exit. I saw a few of the smaller IPC run in from the short hall. “I like destruction too, but that wasn’t even in the way.”

The cowboy looked undeterred by my comment, seeming to be having fun with this chase. “Helps slow ‘em down.”

I scoffed in amusement as I turned my attention back forward, eyes widening at the sight of more IPC starting to pour in at the other end of the lounge. Glancing around for another exit that the two obvious ones I commented, “I don’t think slowing them down’ll help any when we’re blocked in!”

My shoes slid on the tile beneath me as I skid to a halt, the cowboy stopping only a second after me and overshooting me by a couple feet. His gun was already in hand, head turning as he also seemed to take stock of the room to see if there was a way to wriggle out of the situation. Unfortunately, it looked like the two exits the IPC came in from were the only ones to the lounge, leaving us cornered as the space filled with IPC personnel and robots.

“Hands in the air,” one of the larger bots demanded, probably carrying a high rank among the group. A bunch of them lifted rifles and guns to aim at us, the rest held large staffs with a glowing orange end for electrocuting. The other larger bots in the group lifted the yellow shields they had on their left arms while the one that spoke to us added, “And drop your weapons! You’re both going into IPC custody.

“You.” - the robot pointed to the cowboy, who raised his hands up without dropping his gun - “For a list of crimes that would have us here all day if I listed them all. And you-.”

I raised my arms slowly with the cowboy and narrowed my eyes at the robot as it gestured to me. I felt tense, internally coiled up like a snake ready to strike. I had a feeling that Criminal Cowboy wouldn’t be going without a fight, and neither was I. Question was just when to start and he seemed experienced enough with this that I was going to let him make the first move to avoid fucking it up for him.

“-for aiding and abetting a wanted criminal,” the robot concluded. Lowering its arm from pointing at us it gestured to one of the grunts, who produced a pair of glowing handcuffs and presumably had more. “Now, drop your weapon! I won’t be asking nicely a third time.”

“Heh,” the cowboy let out an amused exhale. “This ain’t my first showdown. But I’ll play your little game.”

I watched the cowboy intently as he loosened the grip on his gun until it started sliding out of his grip, dropping towards the tiled ground. My breath hitched in my throat in anticipation, seeing a few of the IPC around us relax slightly.

With a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it fluidity, the cowboy raised his left hand as his fingers contorted, shooting at the chest of the leader bot and striking true through its carapace. In almost the same moment his right leg shifted, the toe of his boot catching the dropped pistol and flicking his ankle up to throw it back into the air where he caught it in a twirl with his right hand.

“Get somewhere safe,” the cowboy said as the leader bot sparked and began to fall. He fired off another shot before the first even hit the ground, taking out two grunts that had been standing in an unfortunate overlap. Looking down at me, he had a wild grin on his face while the red in his eyes glowed. “I’ll handle these muddle-fudgers and find ya when the dust settles. Now, bring it on, baby!”

Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and popped off a couple more shots as the crowd of IPC jostled out of their shock. A couple peeled off and retreated from the room in a flight response but most immediately trained their attention on the cowboy as he charged towards the nearest cluster, giving another grunt an introduction to the back of his heel with a spur to the face.

“Oh, hell no,” I said to myself, focusing on the energy inside myself and felt my hands tingle as a black baseball bat manifested within my grasp, arcs of energy crackling off of it and my hands before dissipating. With almost everyone focusing on the cowboy bobbing around and firing shots, it was almost too easy for me to rush up behind about four people and wack them over the head before I also started getting some attention from the closest IPC personnel.

I had to roll out of the way of a grunt swinging a staff at my face, twisting to the side and tumbling before popping back up to my feet, darting around a pillar to hit someone else while shouting, “Staffs are a bit better when you’re not THAT close!”

With a bunch of IPC also now firing their guns, I didn’t notice the pause in the particular metal twangs from the cowboy’s pistol until I heard, “Son of a-, I told you to get somewhere safe!”

Looking over to where he dodged a few IPC bullets I saw him quick reload while glancing me up and down like he was reassessing me. I felt a surge of satisfaction and spite, running towards a few more IPC members and charging my bat up before swinging it in a sideways arc to hit three of them with a crackling smack that bowled over all three to the ground. Dodging a couple rounds myself, I kicked over one of the gambling tables and crouched behind it as I retorted, “This ain’t my first rodeo, cowboy! I can handle a knock around or two!”

“Fork, color me surprised, small-fry,” the cowboy chuckled, doing an impressive twirl to shoot one of the grunts with a rifle. Two grunts with staffs rushed forward to try and do some sort of pincer move on him but he jumped into the air and backflipped onto a pool table. He tilted his head in my direction and tipped his hat with his left hand. “I feel like a right ash-vole underestimatin’ ya.”

I opened my mouth to reply even as he turned his attention to some more ground grunts running at him with staffs, noticing movement behind him. A couple riflemen were peeking up from behind the counter of the bar, both shifting like they were talking amongst themselves. One rifleman jerked their head towards the standing cowboy and the other looked like they hesitated before slowly raising the barrel to aim at the cowboy’s torso while the other rifleman watched with their own rifle slightly over the counter.

“Hold still, you,” an angry robotic voice sounded on my right, one of the standing large bots about twenty feet away. Its entire body shook as compartments in its shoulders opened and it released a couple rounds in my direction.

Yelping at the sight, I hopped over the table I was crouched behind and weaved towards the cowboy as I warned, “Rifle behind you! I got the staff guys!”

Explosives went off where I had just been, no doubt destroying the unfortunate table. The cowboy looked towards me at my outburst then scowled and spun around, firing off a shot at the rifleman aiming at him. The first hit the counter but a quick second shot knocked the rifleman out of the game, the other ducking back beneath the bar counter.

Running up to the grunts trying to charge the pool table I conducted energy into my bat again, swinging another arc to get a cluster of them before singling out the last couple. Huffing, I straightened just in time to see the cowboy shoot off again towards the bar, the bullet ricocheting off the shelves behind the counter just right to hit the hiding rifleman that you could see in the behind the bar mirror.

“Nice shot,” I said, extremely impressed at his marksmanship. I tried shooting a rifle after a fight on Belebog once and was immediately berated by Dan Heng when the shot went wild due to inexperience.

“Plenty more where that came from,” the cowboy smirked, tumbling off the pool table and firing off another shot from his left hand, hearing the creaking and fall of another large bot. “We'll have the rest of these muddle-fudgers cleaned up in no ti-.”

"In here!"

Both of us turned our attention towards the loud shout, noticing the sound of more footsteps from both exits to the lounge. I didn't realize that some of the remaining IPC personnel had run off, probably one of them or the ones that retreated at the start of the fight calling for back up. And it looked like it unfortunately arrived.

The grunts still in the lounge looked at each other before switching from a more disheartened and intimidated demeanor to a rejuvenated stance at hearing the fresh onslaught of IPC coming to help.

"I think we might want to reassess that statement there, cowboy," I tossed my head to the side with a groan. I rotated my shoulders to try and loosen them a bit before rushing forward toward the grunts still in the lounge. I noticed one of them raise their rifle towards me and prepared to dodge, but a few shots from behind me went off and both the rifleman and a couple other grunts were thrown back to the ground.

Charging between a couple of the other personnel, I grunted as a staff clocked me in the back after taking out one, two, three IPC with my baseball bat, a jolt running up my spine from the active orange staff-end striking against me. It made my tumble out of the way a bit janky, rolling to a crouch right as a bullet struck the tile a bit too close to me and I looked up to see more IPC pouring in from the lounge exits.

“Put your hands in the air!” multiple IPC shouted, barely coherent over the chatter of their fellows who barked out commands and orders.

"Fucking- this place is supposed to be relaxing!" I rolled and sprinted between tables and pillars as a barrage of bullets came towards both the cowboy and I. Running behind a pillar I did a hard pivot to run back out on the same side to catch the IPC off guard, able to weave through and hit a few. "I don't think I've relaxed the entire fucking time I've been at this stupid hotel!

“In the month or so I’ve been cognizant,” a wall of yellow almost slammed into me, yelping as I barely managed to jump up in time to tumble over one of the large bot shields instead of being slammed by it and chucked across the room as it swung at me. I tried to distance myself from it for now, wacking a rifleman on the head as I ran by. “-we’ve gotten two days without fighting or dealing with stupid diplomacy! MAYBE!”

Tumbling beneath another swinging staff, I bounced back to my feet and spun around to conduct an arc of crackling energy behind me to throw back the nearest IPC, three dropping to the ground and one flinching as a residual spark lashed out at them. I almost slammed into a wall of metal as I spun around to keep running, about to raise my bat to swing at them before realizing it was the cowboy I'd stumbled into, firing off an entire round of bullets at the crowd with audible success.

"Quit yappin'!" the cowboy growled, flicking his pistol to the side to empty the chamber of empty shells that clattered on the tile. His tone was gruff but he was looking way too pleased about the fight prolonging. "Or you'll find yerself diggin' your own grave!"

"I'll bitch in the middle of a fight if I want," I retorted, gaze flicking from looking up at the cowboy towards more movement. A grunt rushed forward to try and take advantage of the cowboy quick reloading, and I saw him shift to probably give another kick to the IPCs skull but I darted around him and swung upwards to clock them in the jaw. “It’s cathartic! Heads up!”

The IPC fell back to the ground and I used the cowboy as a bit of a pillar to move around, backpedaling to avoid another staff swing from a grunt that was promptly shot.

“Nice shot,” I complimented the cowboy before running out from his reach again. I started getting into a good flow of rushing off, smacking a few IPC and then either finding my next target or kiting someone around for the cowboy to take out. Anyone who tried to bumrush me or run away had to deal with a bullet, and anyone who tried to get too close to the cowboy earned a fast pass for a bat to the face.

Something felt off the longer the fight went on, but I ignored it in favor of surviving. I was definitely kind of tired and I’d be sore after this, but it wasn’t anything I hadn’t dealt with.

One of the larger bots lumbered towards the cowboy with its shield raised, blocking the bullets that were fired off in its direction. Narrowing my focus onto it, I hit a couple grunts on the way as I dashed towards it, jumping on a nearby pool table to jump high enough to jump over the robots shield. I focused on my bat and channeled as much energy as I could into it, swinging it down on top of its head as I landed on its back.

The entire thing spasmed beneath me as its carapace dented from the impact and energy crackled through it, overloading its system. My eyes widened a little as I realized what the off feeling that was growing was, thinking that I was incredibly lucky to have lasted this long but also thinking that now was the WORST time for this to happen any minute.

“Uh, hey, cowboy!” I shouted down, hopping off the robot as it fell forward. A grunt tried to intercept me but I beat them off with a “Fuck off, dude, I’m busy!” as I trotted up to another group near the cowboy and started wacking them. “Uh, cowboy?”

“Kind of busy shootin’ sons of nice ladies, small-fry!” the cowboy replied, firing off a couple more shots before looking towards me. “Whaddya need?”

“So, I kind of have this… condition,” I hesitantly answered, grabbing a pool ball and smacking it with my baseball bat into the mask of an IPC grunt.

“Wha- are you forkin’ kiddin’ me?!” he snapped with an anger that caught me entirely off guard and would have led to me getting bodied if he didn’t shoot at the IPC nearest to me. “You wanna talk about some kind of forking terms and conditions while we’re in the middle of a muddle-fudging battle with IPC shirt-for-brains?!”

“What? No- No, what the fuck are you talking about? I’m talking about, like, medical conditions.”

“Aw shucks, ma bad.” The cowboy went from angry to apologetic fairly fast, though his voice was still tense as he continued firing. “Could yer condition wait until after we handle these forkers?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied, wacking another grunt. I felt mildly useless trying to stay relatively close to the cowboy because IPC was thinning around him, but I also didn’t want to charge out and get stepped on. I could feel my chest strain more as the Stellaron struggled to maintain my current size.“Unless you happen to have some Antimatter on you, which I highly doubt-.”

“Antimatter?” the cowboy asked in surprise.

“-then I’m just gonna need you to catch me before I hit the ground any minute now,” I finished, distracted trying to gauge the cowboy’s reaction. I didn’t notice the sound of footsteps that were closer than any of the other footsteps in the room, yelping when a sudden massive surge of electricity jolted through my side. With a fair amount of difficulty, I swung out at the grunt who hit me with a staff with an explosive charge of energy through the conduit of my bat.

It knocked them away successfully and allowed me a couple seconds for my body to handle the electrical charge going through it, but I both felt and saw that the Stellaron had reached its limit of maintaining my form, a couple of stray arcs of energy dissipating from my fingertips and bat glitching before disappearing from my grasp.

“Wuh oh.”

Like a star collapsing on itself, I yelped as one last burst of energy flared out from my body like a flashbang, finding myself only a couple inches tall a few feet in the air as my form collapsed and shrunk into my centerpoint.

“Shit,” I exclaimed, bracing myself to impact the tile floor below. It was a survivable fall due to my durability, but it definitely wouldn’t be a pleasant one, knowing from personal experience with a lot of soreness and bruising. However I found myself stopping short of the ground, hitting an arguably harder surface as I was scooped from the air in a metal hand. I was a bit dazed from the impact, not very helped by the cowboy being naturally loud.

“Well, holy forkeroni,” the cowboy said, grey and red eye zeroed in on me in his palm as I sat up. His attention was briefly pulled away and I was jostled as he spun and fired off a couple rounds while dodging a few IPC bullets. “That all ya got, you shirt-for-brains?! Yer ‘bout knee-high to a grasshopper, small-fry!”

“I- sure? I guess? Is there anywhere around where you could either put me down or maybe just get out of here,” I asked, trying to shake off the vertigo and look around to find a safe spot or clear route for him but he was moving too much for me to see well.

“Not with all these forkers ‘round, and I need both my darn hands to fudging deal with ‘em. Tch, hang on.”

“Al-right!” The last half of the word was a yelp as his hand lifted suddenly, making my stomach drop and causing a wave of dizziness as the force messed with the blood flow to my head. Blinking it away, my vision was once more shifted as I was tossed a brief moment into something. The sudden sequence of motion and change in scenery had me instinctively manifesting my baseball bat again, stopping the area around me from closing.

Gravity shifted around me again as I barely managed to hold onto my bat with one hand, my left shoulder straining as all my weight came down on it, falling from whatever small, dark area I'd nearly been tossed into. It wasn't until I noticed the two rows of massive, sharp teeth on either side of my bat and heard the surprised noise from the cowboy that I realized he'd just tried to toss me in his mouth.

“Aeon ‘arn it, ‘all-’ry! Ah-n ‘ryna ‘elp ya,” the cowboy mumbled loudly around the baseball bat currently locking his jaws open. His left hand was cupped beneath me, poised to catch me if I fell, and I saw fingers twitch like he was debating how to go about this.

Well, if I'd been given any sort of heads up, I wouldn't have ended up panicking as much as I had. There'd been an odd abundance of me being put in mouths, but this was probably the most chaotic and fast-paced to date.

“Nngh, hold on,” I said, trying to pull myself up enough to grab the bat with my right hand. Extremely difficult with him still running. A noise escaped my throat as his hand surged upwards, uncertain to what he was doing as I felt the tips of his index, middle, and thumb fingers press against my back.

My world blurred as the cowboy suddenly halted on his heel and spun to avoid what I could only guess was a swing from a staff from the streak of grey and orange that streaked by. In the simultaneous moment that a gunshot went off so close that it could only be from the cowboy I found my grip forced from the baseball bat as the fingertips against my back pinched the back of my hoodie and yanked me from the two walls of teeth that were now below as I was lifted from the cowboy’s face.

With the most still thing in comparison to everything else being the cowboy, it was incredibly easy for me to focus on his jaws as they snapped shut around my tiny baseball bat, the manifestation shattering between the shark teeth and dissipating into cosmic sparks.

I caught a brief glimpse of the cowboy smiling before he opened wide again and I found myself popped inside before I could really process anything past the daze of being jostled around so much. In fact, it was almost a relief when the pseudo-bone clicked close behind me, allowing me a reprieve from the chaos of being dangled around and shot at.

It was warm and humid with the tongue beneath me surprisingly soft considering the mechanical nature of its host. It wasn't offensively pungent but the space smelt of oil, grease, and other more chemical scents that brought to mind repairing robots in Belebog.

Something clung to me like saliva, likely some kind of lubricant.

I was expecting some amount of tasting or slickening up considering that was necessary - to a point - so that whoever was eating me wouldn’t end up choking on me. But, I guess it wasn’t needed for the cyborg because I instantly found the space around me tilting.

“A-Ack, give me a mom-ent,” I yelped out as the tongue flexed beneath me in preparation for the imminent swallow, squashing me flat against the roof of his mouth. I was barely given a split second as the tongue pushed me back and I felt the throat entrance seize around my ankles in a gulp.

I'm not even sure if his throat actually made the sound of the swallow around me or if it was just a habitual noise from his voice box, carrying a slightly robotic undertone like when he spoke.

As I was pulled into the embrace of his gullet, it felt bizarrely close to being eaten by, for lack of a better term, an organic person. Whatever material that lined his throat was just as claustrophobic as a normal esophagus and almost as pliable as actual flesh. From what little I could gather from the small amount of exposed skin I had, it felt like some sort of rubber.

The cowboy didn't reply to me and I was barely out of his mouth when he exhaled around me with a gruff growl, my surroundings rumbling as he shouted, “‘lright, you muddle-fudgers! Let's forkin’ finish this!”

He was, understandably, far more concerned with fighting the remaining IPC. However, I feel like my ears would have burst if I had been a normal human.

“Which one of you shirt-bags wants to be first in line for a bullet?!”

I felt his body shift and twist chaotically as I slipped past what constituted his collarbone, everything muffling a bit from layers of metal and whatever a mechanical creature would count as internal organs. It was definitely surreal.

It got warmer the deeper I was pulled down like the insides of someone organic, but less slimy or stuffy. Instead of slipping past a beating heart and the breathing of lungs, the somewhat muffled chaos outside overplayed with the sound of whirring fans and mechanical parts shifting against each other as the cowboy moved erratically.

It wasn't long before I was ejected from the relative sturdiness of his esophagus. I didn't realize how much the cowboy was running and dodging until I slipped into a small chamber and immediately started being bounced around the space like a ping pong ball.

Fortunately, it seemed like the walls were made of the same flexible material at his throat. Unfortunately, the space wasn't completely empty. I felt other… bits bounce around with me, unable to make heads or tails of any of it while essentially inside the living bouncy house.

I'm not sure how long I spent tumbling around as the cowboy shouted mother-sanctioned insults at the IPC and fired shot after shot while I can only assume backflipping the entire time based on how much I was being shaken. Eventually, everything stopped and I was flopped onto the floor of the chamber. I felt like I was going to get bruises in places where I didn't even think bruises were possible.

“Ah, hell. You aight in there, small-fry?” I was pulled from my dazed stupor by one side of the chamber being pushed in slightly and the cowboys voice above. For someone who, in the minutes I'd known him, seemed reckless and unabashedly brazen he actually sounded a bit sheepish. “Reck’n I prolly shook you up more than the tail end of a rattler.”

“You’re fine,” I replied, slowly pushing myself off the floor of the chamber. Something gritty clung to my hands with the help of lubricant and whatever other small puddle of liquid that shared the space with me. I flicked my hands in instinctive disgust to try and get rid of the feeling.

“You're takin’ this pretty well.”

“This ain't the first time I've been eaten,” I sighed as I mustered the energy to summon a spark to take stock of my surroundings now that I wasn't tumbling around everywhere. “Definitely the most chaotic though.”

“What the fridge? I woulda thought that your biggest concern woulda been finding yerself under some ash-voles boot,” I felt the space begin to shift and sway as I looked around, probably from him starting to walk or something. The walls were dark gray and seemed to be made of the same rubbery material as his throat, and around me was a thin coating of some kind of thick, grainy, gray substance that had the glint of metal scattered around.

That explained the shallow cuts I could see on my hands now.

“I can't say that being stepped on hasn't been a concern,” I replied, frowning in confusion at the gritty stuff around me. Spurred on by curiosity I ran my finger through the substance and gave it a cautious sniff. I'd noticed the somewhat pungent scent permeating the space but wasn't able to recognize what it was until I got a closer smell. Dulled by the potent sting of what smelled like malt juice diluted by lubricant, the grains smelt of something that reminded me of explosives, I scrunched my face in confused surprise. “Is this fucking GUNPOWDER?!”

“Mmmhm,” the cowboy let out a pleased hum like remembering a particularly delicious snack. “Nine millimeter, baby. Had a couple earlier. Might sorry ‘bout the clutter, but didn't exactly have time to clean house before fighting the muddle-fudgin’ IPC.”

“I… I don't know what I was expecting a cyborg to eat, but it wasn't bullets,” I sighed, cleaning my hand off on my jacket. “Eh, whatever. Can you let me out and help me get to the Astral Express please?”

“Ehhh,” the space tilted and squished a little, only able to assume that he crouched down. Guessing the guys habits, I wouldn't be surprised if he was seeing if any of the IPC had anything worthwhile on them. “I can take you to your train, but ya might need a mechanic.”

“Wait, what? Why?” I asked, frowning in confusion.

“‘Cause I can't just make myself vomit on command,” the cowboy replied, able to feel him stand up. “So unless your folks have a mechanic or something to make me spit ya out, we might be stuck up a shirt creek without a paddle until I come across another mechanic.”

I blinked in the dark space, part of me appalled at the news. However, this was weirdly enough also not my first time stuck inside someone who couldn't just cough me up considering Sampo.

“Please, for the love of the Aeons, just get to the train and find Dan Heng.”

[strniohoeee]

Dolor Pt. 2

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N hasn’t seen Chris in a year and a half, but with the help of her friend she’s surprised by them🤭 Will those feelings still be there for one another?

Warnings⚠️: None, I’m not too sure how I feel about this one, but I had no other idea on how to write it so I hope y’all enjoy 🙃

Song for the imagine: ANGEL- Brent Faiyaz

Read part 1 here🫶🏽

Don’t ever leave my side, baby I’ll die

But from what I know, you’re always here to stay

You’re an angel in disguise

It has been a solid year and half since Chris and I broke up, a solid year and half of never seeing him or his brothers. It was very hard, but it also flew by. I wasn’t sure where a year and half went. It was honestly scary.

We both told each other we’d love to cross paths, and reconnect in a few months to be friends, but life got in the way, and that never happened. I’m honestly glad it didn’t, we were both so busy I believe it helped us move on from one another faster.

We all stood mutuals with each other on instagram and TikTok, but we just didn’t interact with each other. I watched them grow in all aspects, and it was amazing. I thought I’d be there to witness it first hand, but instead I was watching from the sidelines….it hurt me, but it had to be done.

My TikTok was flooded with videos of them from their tour they were just on, and it’s honestly crazy how much people can change in a year and a half. That didn’t even look like Chris. He was much more mature looking, sculpted cheekbones, shorter hair, stubble on his face…..Chris was looking good.

I shook that feeling off because I could not allow myself to fall back in love with Chris. It took me a long time to move on from him. I will always love the kid, but to fall out of love was hard. I hadn’t seen or talked to any other guys since splitting with Chris, and I wasn’t too sure if that was the same with him. Deep down I hoped it was.

I was scrolling on TikTok one day when I saw a clip of the triplets from their recent podcast video, they were doing a Q and A video, and somehow Chris pulled out a question asking about me. I decided to watch the video

“Okay so this person says how’s Y/N, and how have you been since the breakup. I’m currently going through my own break up right now, and I just need some advice” Chris read out

“So uh this is a good question. It’s been a year and a half since I’ve last seen Y/N, and it’s crazy to say it’s been that long, but it has. With the relationship we had and how special it was it took me a full year to finally be able to feel okay, and understand why we split up. It hurt and some part of me still hurts, but we told each other the night we broke up that we both will be okay because we’re strong, and that’s something I’ve been holding on to. I presume that she’s okay, I’ve seen her instagram posts and her TikTok’s, and she looks amazing. I actually really miss the girl. So I hope she’s doing great, and for you going through your break up just know everything happens for a reason and you’ll be okay take your time and work on yourself” he said

Oh god this was making it so hard for me not to call Chris and ask to see him….I missed him so badly

I scrolled some more and another clip popped up

“This person wants to know do you still love Y/N” Nick asked Chris

“Oh 100% that woman is my everything. Like we’ve said in the past we hope to cross paths again” Chris said nodding his head

This has to be a sign? Like this has to be a sign that I have to see him, that Chris and I are meant for each other right? Or am I being delusional……

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to call him, text him or just ignore all this and keep it pushing in life. I felt torn between my decisions

Today I was getting ready to film with Larray and Arrington. I had gotten so close to them within the last year, and we always filmed together. Larray was my biggest supporter in all this, and he was also friends with the triplets which kind of made it hard, but he never got in between anything. Although he hoped and prayed that we’d get back together one day I always told him time will tell.

He had an idea where we all stay in his car for 24 hours with special guests. I wasn’t sure who these guests were, and I wasn’t sure why he wanted us to stay in a car for 24 hours, but I agreed I knew it would be fun.

I had driven over to Larrays house, and let myself in

“YOOOOO” I yelled from the door

“Were in hereeee” Arrington yelled back

Oh god I was the last one here….I hated this, but anyways I walked to Larrays room, and when I walked in my heart sank

“Oh” was all I said as I walked in

“Hiiiii baby” Larray said, causing everybody to turn around with him the triplets face dropping

“What’s? Uh….whats going on” I said looking at Larray

“We’re filming a video, and I brought my friends” he said back

“It’s been so long” Chris said looking at me saddened

“It ummm it has” I said smiling at him

“We have missed you so fucking much….holy shit” Nick said running over and hugging me

“Uhh it’s been so fucking long I missed yall too” I said hugging him

“Matt you look so different now” I said jaw dropping and giving him a hug

“Good different I hope” he said hugging me

“Of course good different” I said laughing at him

I moved to Chris

“You look so different too” I said pulling him in for a hug

“I’ve missed you” he said hugging me tighter

“Missed you too” I said pulling away

After chatting for a bit Larray decided to film his introduction for his channel

“Alright bitches we are filming a 24 hour car video today, and of course I had to bring in my ride or dies Arrington and Y/N” he said and both Arrington and I made an entrance

“And then you know Larray had to stir the pot, so he brought the triplets” Arrington said to the camera causing us to laugh

“As uhhh most of you know there’s uh an elephant in this room between uh two people, but ummm we won’t talk about it” Larray said

And we just laughed at him

“You are so messy” I said to him rolling my eyes playfully

“Alright let’s get to the car bitches” he said and we ran out

I sat in the passenger seat, Chris and Arrington in the back, and then Nick and Matt in the third row

“Alright so right now we’re driving to Target which is 45 minutes away because Larray decided to do this video during rush hour” I said to the camera

“Uh- is that a drag?” He asked me

“It sure is” I said to him

“So Y/N….you said Matt looks different….you already had Chris so will you try another brother” Arrington asked me

I looked back at him jaw on the floor, as Chris and his brothers were laughing

“You weirdo Arrington, I will not fucking get with Matt” I said shaking my head

“Could you believe this kid” I said looking at the camera

“Ouuuu the fans want to know how many boyfriends since Chris” Larray asked me

“Boyfriends plural? Do they think I’m a slut….its only been a year and a half guys, and there’s been zero guys since Chris” I said shrugging my shoulders

“OHHHHHH CHRISSSS” Larray and Arrington yelled at him hyping him up

“She loves me too much to do that” Chris said to the camera

“Uh-“ I said turning around to look at him

“I’m just kidding” he said and touched my face playfully

“SAW THAT” Nick and Matt yelled from the back

We had finally gotten to Target, and Chris and I were paired up to go on the hunt for some things, and we had to vlog it together

“Alright guys I’m here with uh….my ex” I said to the camera

“What a great reunion” he said looking at the camera

“Who would’ve thought a year and a half later we’d be in Target shopping for a video together” I said looking at him

“I honestly thought it would’ve happened sooner, but I mean hey” he said shrugging his shoulders

“Oh whatever” I said rolling my eyes at him

Him and I were doing some shopping and grabbing some stuff, and we had found ourselves in the coloring book aisle

“Look the Disney coloring book, your favorite” he said leaning down to grab it

“You remembered?” I asked him

“Of course I did, and you only get specific coloring pencils cause you’re weird” he said laughing

“Hey don’t be mean” I said laughing at him

“It’s cute” he said smiling at me

“Do you ever think about us?” I asked him

“Pretty often actually” he said looking at me

“Do you think you see a future with me” I asked him

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and every time I picture my future you’re a main character in it” he said looking into my eyes

“This year and a half has been rough, and I so badly wanted nothing more than to cave and call you over, and just hold you tight” I said looking down

“I sat in my room for so many nights wondering if the decision I made was right, and after a while I just became numb to the feeling, but I want this again….I want us” he said

“I think we should start slow first. I want us to truly work out this time no break ups no nothing” I said to him

“I think so too, you should come film with us again we miss you so much, and the fans miss you too” he said

“I’ve seen…all over my tik tok” I said smiling at him

“Yeah they love you and I love you too so much” he said pulling me in for a hug

We finished vlogging some, and headed back to the car with everybody getting back in our original seats

“Okay everybody we are back, we’re going to go eat something and then we’ll be back in the car for the next 24 hours” Larray said

After we ate we went back into Larrays car trying to stick out this challenge and just chatting with each other asking each other questions

“How many girlfriends since Y/N?” Larray asked Chris

“None. I told yall she’s the love of my life” he said looking at the camera

“Awww Chris” I said looking at him

“HEY CITY GIRLS UP. Do not fall for this” Arrington said

“Shut the fuck up” I said laughing at him

“What’s one regret you have” Nick asked us

“I think my biggest regret was completely dropping you guys out of my life. Like no interactions no nothing that hurt the most” I said to them

“We appreciate that” Matt said

“How do you guys feel after seeing each other” Matt asked Chris and I

“Is this a hot seat? What are we doing” Chris said

“Shut the fuck up and answer” Nick said

“I feel at peace, like seeing him was the last piece to my puzzle. I still love Chris of course, and we’re hoping to take things slow, and eventually get together again” I said to them

“Yeah. I love her so much, and seeing her today brought back all those memories. Memories that made my heart flutter, and I knew I couldn’t let her go again” he said looking at me

“Yall cute as shit this has got to stop” Larray said

“So yall heard it here first they are back together” Arrington said to the camera

“WOAH WOAH NO” we both said putting our hands out

“We are taking it slow…we are not dating yet, and trust me you guys will know when we’re back together. It’s a maybe for right now” I said to the camera

“But she will be in our videos again” Chris said

“SHE WILL?” Nick and Matt said

“Yes she will!” He said to them

“FUCK YES FINALLY” Nick said getting excited

We had chatted for a good thirty more minutes before we decided this challenge was not going to happen

“Alright guys we did not make it, but we love you and we’re heading inside now” Larray said

“BYEEEEEE” we all yelled to the camera, Chris pulling me in and kissing my forehead

“Are you guys going to soft launch your comeback before I post this?” Larray asked us

“You know that’s not a bad idea actually” I said looking at Chris

“We could do that. I’d love to do that” he said pulling me in and kissing my cheek

“Yall soft launching but he smoochin on you” Matt said looking at us

“Uhhhh mind your business” Chris said sticking his tongue out at him

“OMG to keep it like private you guys could do like a couples shadow picture” Nick said

“Waittttt I love that let’s do it” I said to Chris

We had snapped the picture, and Chris posted it collabing with me once again so I can post and share it. Nick and Matt also shared it to their story saying the gangs back together and they can’t wait to film with me again. Immediately the love we got was INSANE

❤️nicolassturniolo,matthew.sturniolo,larray, and 450,000 others

christophersturniolo: I told you guys we’d always always find a way back to one another. Although we aren’t dating again we will be thinking about it for our future. I love this girl with my whole fucking heart, and I’m so glad we’re in each others lives again. She was my right person at the wrong time.My number one girl💍. Were back BITCHESSSSS🥳

Sturnioloteam: STFU THEYRE BACK

arringtonallen: mhmmm I was here for this picture so back off everyone

nicolassturniolo: mama and papa🫡

matthew.sturniolo: yall cute or whatever…..

larray: yall can thank me for this reunion MHMM💅🏽

Y/Nusername: my number one guy…love this kid so much💋

sturnioloooooo: I knew mom and dad would find each other again

The immense love we received was insane. Had you told me a year and a half ago today that all that pain would be gone, and we would find each other again I would laugh in your face. I guess I am making it to the end of his story….🥀

The End

I hope you guys liked this one I feel ehhh about it, but I had to have a happy ending🥹 but anywho let me get to writing some more 🖤

-J💅🏽

[fourstarsoutofnine]

Hellooo, i noticed that requests are open! If I may, can I request courting shenanigans with Four? Man's gonna have a full on war in his head (AND a full on brawl if they split )if the Colors have different ideas on how they want to court the reader. Even better if the Reader has feelings for them but is as Dense as A Rock.

In any case, please do take your time with this! I don't want you to burn yourself out, and I don't mind waiting.

One last thing, I hope you know that your writings make me smile whenever I see that you posted.

Ok that's it lmao, take care of yourselfff

A/n:AAA thank you sm😭🫶you’re so very kind. Also I’ve been wanting to write for the colors for a while, thank you for giving me a way to do that!!

Also, I read somewhere a while back that to make a courtship official in medieval times(typically between a man and a woman, I’m not sure how it worked for other couples, it didn’t say so I’d just say it was an overarching thing), the man would give his lover a cloth torn from his garment but I didn’t want to have four slice his tunic so I settled for an extra headband ribbon <3 anyway enjoy!

How to date.

Four x reader (ft. colors)

The smith was normally a pretty easygoing guy. Calm, collected, able to figure things out relatively well on his own….when it came to regular issues.

But you, though—oh, you.

You were an entirely different story. He had no clue how to gauge the situation of his thoughts and feelings towards you.

He knew he’d fallen for you—faster than the champion when his shield broke while surfing—but the thing is… he was torn inside on how he wanted to go about asking you, and courting you.

You, of course, were clueless as a blind detective. Not a single thought of his feelings behind those eyes. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved by that. It just meant he could look at you longer without you wondering why he was doing so.

Vio hated keeping this from you. He wanted to figure out some way to tell you. It’s your right to know how he felt. It would be wrong to continue your friendship without your knowledge of this, as it was something that, Hylia forbid, could end the friendship all together if you found out and didn’t feel the same way.

Red wanted to tell you, but by the three the poor thing was paralyzed by fear. His feelings towards you were so strong he felt like he could explode. He adored you—he had the smith looking at you like you were the goddess herself. If it took being dragged here by the shadow for you to meet, it truly will have been worth it. He reveled in every aspect of you.

Even Blue was smitten. You knew how to fluster every part of the smith, and he was no exception. Your willpower and strength amazed him, as did your sharp wit and ability to shoot a comeback right back at anybody with a snarky remark, and that was something that could easily melt him to a puddle.

Green had no words, really. You just captivated him. He was the head of the group, the calmest of every color, the least easily riled. But you had him, all of them really, wrapped around your finger. If they could only agree on one thing, it would be that they’d do anything for you… so why couldn’t they come to an agreement on how to ask you out?

“A library’s the clear choice. It’s a calm, quiet environment facilitating a feeling of ease and comfort, and that’d be best.” Vio stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh please—you just wanna read after, whether we get rejected or not.” Blue rolled his eyes.

“Alright then, what’s your idea?” Vio shot back

“Picnic.” He shrugged. “Easy. It’s a calm, quiet environment facilitating a feeling of ease and comfort.” He repeated in a mocking tone. “But way more romantic. I mean—what can you even do in a library??? Recite love poems to them?”

“Yes! Exactly, Blue!”

“Hey!!!” Red shouted. “Stop arguing, this is getting us nowhere!”

“Do you have a suggestion, then?” Vio pressed

“Um-…well…” he thought. “We could…I’ll take them shopping! That way I can buy them things that accentuate their beauty…” his cheeks turned red as he smiled dopily at the ground.

“Not a bad idea, only, where will we get the money?” Blue asked. “We’re practically pisspoor traveling with the others. Hardly a rupee to our name and I wouldn’t be caught dead asking to borrow from someone to take our partner out. We’re not a scrub.”

“…yeah…” he mumbled ashamedly, a blush of embarrassment now across his cheeks. Vio patted his shoulder, assuring him it wasn’t a bad idea despite their lack of funds, and it would definitely be something they’d do in the future when they got more money(if you reciprocated their affections, that is.)

“Green? Any lifesaving ideas?” Blue crossed his arms, tired of this charade.

“….honestly, gang? I got nothin. I’m coming up blank..”

The other colors groaned. Unfortunately for them, it was loud enough for your passing form to hear. The sound caught your ear and drew you closer. When you got to the source, you saw four brightly colored iterations of your lovely smith, each one of them a representation of the color on the tunic you most consistently saw him wearing. You’d become rather close to him and the sound he’d made concerned you. This, however, wiped all other worry from you and you stood there shocked and confused on the scene playing out before you.

“Are you serious???” The small man in blue let out another groan and held his face. “My goddess were never gonna tell them at this point; this is ridiculous. They’ll be back where they belong by the time we can come up with a stupid plan.”

“Easy, Blue. Don’t be so dramatic; you’d sound like Red if you weren’t so negative.” The one in a lovely purple(or violet, more accurately) said.

“Hey..” the one in red pouted.

“No offense.”

“Offense?? You’re comparing him to ME!”

“All I said was you’re both dramatic, you’re just negative too—“

“I oughta—“

“Hey!!” The one in green finally shouted, bringing the others’ bickering to a halt. “Even if I did have a plan, would we even agree on it? You three can’t seem to even stop arguing, much less come to an agreement or come up with a solution we all like. Maybe-..maybe we just try to…since it’s causing us inner turmoil and making us bicker with ourselves…what if we just suppress it…”

“No..!” Red shouted. “I-I don���t want to..! Loving them is so nice… I don’t wanna push that down…”

“Honestly? Me neither. Besides it’ll just make us sick. You know what happens when we bottle it up.” Blue stated.

“Exactly. We get physically ill and I’m not a fan.” Vio added.

“But the thing is—what if it’s all for naught anyway? What if they don’t like us?” Green sighed.

“What if they do?” You finally piped up after not being able to hear of the scenario any longer. You loved the smith. You just never in a million years would have thought he returned your affections. But yet here he stood, the four major parts of him split by the foursword, bickering over how to take you on a date.

The colors eyes widened, faces blooming a bright red immediately. They’d been caught.

“What if I do?” You said. “And…I might have a solution to your issue… how about we go out to eat, or just for a walk or something..? It doesn’t matter what we do, I just like to spend time with you… we can to that when you’re all together again, and then someday later, you four could go on whatever individual dates you had in mind that you couldn’t agree on…” you smiled nervously.

Red was the first to break the standoff between all of you. He ran up and hugged you tight. You smiled and hugged him back. The other colors joined before they backed up and merged again. The smith stood in front of you with a sad smile. “You really—meant all that..?”

“Of course..” you smiled. “For one, I’d never lie to you, and two, why would I ever not reciprocate your feelings? Smith—Link, you are brilliant, in every single way. And all of this just adds to that. I can’t wait to get to know every single part of you.”

“Can—can I-….can you bend down here so I can kiss you?”

You laughed and nodded, bending down to let the small hero kiss you. It was careful, calculated, and so full of love that you were sure he’d gone over it in his head a thousand times on exactly how he’d do it. When you both broke away, his face was bright red and he smiled like a dope. “That—“ he started with a lovestruck laugh. “Was so much more than I ever dreamed it would be…”

“I could say the same…” you were just as lovestruck as he was. “I just-…never would’ve thought you’d ever think of me like that…”

“You kidding? You’re literally everything I’d ever dream of. Every aspect of you’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing…”

“Smithy…” you sigh, beginning to refute.

“I mean it.. and if you’ll let me, I’d love to show you how much you mean to me..”

“I-… I’d love to..” you smiled softly. His eyes lit up and he grabbed a spare piece of ribbon he uses for his headband and tied it around your wrist.

“I’m not sure how it works where you’re from, but this is how people know we’re courting.” He smiled. As did you. Courting, what a cute way to say dating… with the colors satisfied, the smith felt satisfied as well. So did you. A happy ending for all of you<3