#he scampered away when he saw me sitting there

[lesbianshepard]

i was out on the porch and a baby possum came to visit me for my birthday

[seresinhangmanjake]

Forgetting

Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.

Notes/Warnings: Angst, but ends fluffy. Fighting. Cursing. This was a request that I said I'd have done in a couple days and it took me a week and a half. Sorry about that. Also, please be gentle. I haven't written for Jake in what feels like a millennium.

Words: 2700

Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

As much as it would kill you to know that he could be hurt, you hope he’s hurt. You hope he’s on his way to the hospital to receive life-saving treatment because if he’s not hurt, if he’s not receiving life-saving treatment, then he simply forgot about you. And that makes your heart want to claw its way out of your chest and scamper across the floor until it’s well out of your range to catch it. 

Your call goes to voicemail for the fourth time. You send your twelfth text: I hope you’re ok. I landed an hour ago. Please call me. Nothing different than the eleven other messages that have gone unanswered. Forty-five more minutes pass of you sitting on a bench by the airport exit before you finally surrender your last shred of hope and call Bradley to come save you. 

Within the hour, you’re sighing in relief, the sight of a friendly face almost bringing you to tears. He approaches you with open arms and you fall right into the embrace, comforted by the hug that should be in your boyfriend’s arms, and the warmth that should be from your boyfriend’s body, and the forehead kiss that should be from your boyfriend’s lips. 

“Please tell me he’s ok,” you say against your friend’s chest. 

A heavy palm rubs up and down your back. “No one could get ahold of him.”

Your head jerks back so you can meet his eyes. “Oh my god!”

“I’m sure he’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.”

“How can you say that? He was supposed to be here and he’s not and–” You pause when Bradley looks away from you, and a hefty stone settles in your gut. You know your friend well. He’s a good man, honest but sensitive, and when that honestly meets that sensitivity, it results in his inability to look someone in the eye if he thinks the truth might hurt them. You’ve seen it a hundred times, but never with you. 

Your posture wavers with your lengthy exhale. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Another great thing about Bradley: he doesn’t make you play any games. You don’t have to jump through hoops. You don’t have to ask the right questions in the right way in order to get what you need out of him, unlike many men, your boyfriend included, who recently has found ways to skitter around telling the full truth. 

“Javy said he saw him a couple of hours ago,” Bradley says.

Your back teeth clench. Your mind shoots to one conclusion. “With her?” you ask. Bradley’s eyes drift from yours again and you nod, a tear at the ready to leak down your cheek. “He forgot about me because he’s with her.”

“We don’t know that for sure, and–”

Your hand scrubbing down your face cuts him off. Your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose before you suck in your whimper and say, “Rooster, why did he even ask me to come here?”

“Because he…I mean, we thought he–”

“You thought he gave a fuck about me.”

“He does,” Bradley says, stressing his words in an attempt to reassure you. “He never shuts up about you.”

“Sure,” you say. “He gives so much of a fuck that he forgot about me to be with his ex. How can you explain that?”

Rooster sighs. His hands slip into his jeans pockets just to have something to do with them. “I can’t.”

“Exactly.” 

No one can explain it. Not you, not Bradley, not Jake. Everyone you know back home would be telling you to run for the hills right now. They were already wary of this ‘Navy guy’ that they’d only met twice around the holidays, who lives a decent distance away from your entire life and who constantly requests that you be the one to hop on a plane rather than the other way around. 

For the duration of your time together, you’ve been understanding of that sacrifice. You know his schedule doesn’t allow impromptu trips out of state, but that hasn’t made it any less exhausting for you. And maybe that’s a sign. Another sign. A nail in the coffin. Maybe you and Jake aren’t meant to be. And why would you be? You met him on a brief vacation to visit a friend who doesn’t even live in the same town anymore, and somehow, during those few days, he convinced you to take a chance on him. So you took the leap. But being that bold doesn’t guarantee you won’t fall flat on your face, and you think that’s exactly what’s happening. You’ve tripped over a guy only to realize he doesn’t care about you to the same degree that you care about him. 

However, you’re not the type to avoid confrontation. If Jake Seresin is going to mistreat you because of his ex, then he is going to do it to your face. He’s going to look you in the eye when he shows himself to be the liar he is. It may hurt more to go to him rather than get on the next plane home without so much as taking in a breath of fresh Californian air, but you’re too upset to let that thought fully develop, and a moment later, Rooster is following your stomps out the door. 

—

You find him at the Hard Deck, standing at a hightop with a beer glass in his hand that clinks against the one in his ex’s before he takes a sip. Bradley’s comforting hand lands on your back in solidarity. You only met him because of Jake, but the two of you bonded despite their differences, and having him by your side now makes him nothing short of a life-saver. 

He helps guide you through the crowd to the table, and when Jake spots you, he chokes around the liquid going down his throat. His blown-out emerald eyes rival saucers and his mouth gapes like a fish, but then his stare flicks to Bradley, and those eyes shrink into narrow slits. His face heats to a boiling red. 

“What the fuck!” Jake snaps, shocking the composure right out of his ex’s poised stance. Bar patrons close by turn their heads but quickly return to their own conversations. Jake steps away from the table, coming to a halt in front of you and his squadmate. “What the hell is this?”

You figured he’d be bothered if you showed up with Bradley in tow. And good, that’s what you feel he deserves. Jake’s been wary of the other Dagger’s closeness to you for a while, and even though you know—as does Bradley—that it’s an asinine concern, you have no problem using it against him now. But still, the intensity of his reaction manages to surprise you. You didn’t think he would be this angered by the sight of you with another man that it would have him overlooking his mistake of forgetting you.

Your arms cross. “This is your girlfriend and the guy who saved her when her damn boyfriend left her stranded at the airport.”

“Excuse me?”

Jake’s ex’s prying gaze tugs at your attention, but when you glance over his shoulder to catch her in the act, she quickly looks away—just more proof that whatever the fuck she’s doing with your boyfriend is something to be ashamed of. 

Bradley’s saying something. You can’t quite hear him over the anger-induced fuzzing in your ears, but you’re pretty sure it’s a scolding based on the twisting of Jake’s features as he shoots back his own words of aggression. And then your hand is in his and you’re being pulled through the bar, out the back door, and onto the deck where the only intrusive sound is the lapping of waves on the shore. 

“Why are you here?” he asks. 

You scoff to mask the heartbreak that comes with that question. “Because you asked me to be here.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“It’s Wednesday,” he says. 

“It’s Thursday, Jake.”

“No, it’s—” he freezes, and you don’t know if he’s tipsy or stupid, but it takes him a minute to come to the same conclusion: it is indeed Thursday. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Your lower back meets the edge of the railing, and you sigh, thankfully keeping in the tears. “What are you doing with her?”

“What the fuck are you doing with Rooster?” he returns much more forcefully. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I called, I texted, I left voicemails,” you tell him, “But clearly, she was more important.”

Jake’s hands pat down his pockets, mouth setting in a frown when he can’t find his phone.

“Don’t bother. Phone or no phone, you forgot about me because of her. Last time I was here, you were late for one of our dates because of her. You spent fifty percent of our time together stepping away to take her phone calls,” you say, trying and failing to avoid the bitter taste on your tongue. “Just fuck her, Jake, if you haven’t already. I only came here to tell you that she can have you.”

You’ve never seen him fall apart the way he does. You’ve never seen the blood drain from his cocky face. You’ve never seen his features break and crack and contort into the vision of pure devastation as they do. His parted mouth must’ve gone dry because his next words come out slightly hoarse.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, but it’s more of a plea than anything. “Why…Why would you–” He swallows. A wrinkle forms between his brows and he shakes his head. “You love me. You didn’t mean to say that.”

You do love him—terribly so—but you’re willing to be one of those people who won’t view love as enough if it also means laying you out as a fool. “Jake–”

“Take it back,” he says. His steps are quick, and then you’re trapped where you stand, his hands on either side of your body, gripping the rail. Eyes drill into yours, and for a second, you feel a pang of guilt. “Please, baby, take it back. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“And I mean less.”

“No!” he says. “That’s not true. You’re everything, ok? You mean everything to me. She was just helping me, that’s all.”

“Helping you,” you mimic with a roll of your eyes. “Helping you what? Get off?”

With a little whine, Jake’s head drops between his shoulders, his blond hair brushing your collarbone. “Please. Please quit saying things like that.” His hands slide closer to your body and land on your hips. You don’t push him away—you can't—and his touch softens you ever so slightly.

“Then tell me the truth,” you say. “Right now. I’m giving you one shot.”

His head snaps up. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, ironically searching for your honesty, as if you’re the liar on trial here. 

“It was a surprise,” he tells you. “She’s a realtor now, and for the last few months she’s been helping me find a new place, one that’s bigger than what I’ve got because I was going to ask you to move in with me.” Your heartbeat stutters. A layer of goosebumps coats your arms. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I hate missing you. I hate how unfair it is that you’re always the one to come here because I can’t fly out at the drop of a hat. I know it’s a big step, but I figured if I had a place, I could show you how great things could be. That’s why she and I came here. We were celebrating because I’m signing on a house first thing tomorrow,” he says. “Well, that’s why I’m celebrating, anyway. She’s probably celebrating because she just made a decent commission.”

It’s almost unfair how that new information doesn’t make you feel any less of a fool. Had he told you that under any other circumstances, you’d be leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve been deprived of him for years, repeating ‘yes’ over and over between those kisses, but you can’t. You can’t because his explanation doesn’t fix everything. 

“That still doesn’t change that it’s Thursday, not Wednesday,” you say.

“I know, baby. That’s my fault. I was so excited, and I was thinking how perfect the timing was that I would be able to pick you up tomorrow and drive you by the house now that it’s officially mine, but I fucked it up.”

Jake’s thumbs press into your hips, and you’re instantly reminded of each moment in your relationship when you’ve felt that same light pressure on your skin. A gentle claiming. The same pressure you felt when you agreed to be his girlfriend. The same pressure you feel whenever you’re in bed together. 

You sense eyes on you other than your boyfriend’s, and when you turn your head, you find his ex staring right at you, an expression on her face that you wish you could say wasn’t one of distress, but it is. And worse, it’s obviously not distress for herself, but for Jake, as if she’s hoping she wasn’t just a contributor to a bomb dropping on his life. 

Jake’s busy staring at you despite your averted gaze, and in a monotone voice, you say, “She feels bad.”

He doesn’t follow your eyes. “Because she knows I’ve been doing this all for you.”

You blink. Your hand runs down your face before sifting through the strands of your hair. “You really want me to live with you?”

“Of course I do,” he tells you. He’s shaking his head, but you know it’s because he thinks any idea that he wouldn’t want you to be blasphemous. His hand cups your chin. “I love you.”

With a sigh, you push aside the rollercoaster of emotions, the misunderstandings that lead to frustration and hurt, and look him directly in the eye. And where moments ago you thought you saw lies, you see honestly. Where you thought you saw betrayal, you see love. 

“Can I see it?”

—

It’s small—a two-bedroom with a little driveway, the shingle siding painted a blue-gray shade that is more blue than gray; bundles of flowers bloom in the boxes under the windows; a bay window protrudes from the side of the structure facing the beach. And it’s perfect.

You can imagine building a life here. You can picture a dog that you’ll have to build a fence for and children years later that will have you reinforcing the fence because they’ll probably be like their father, and Jake didn’t choose to be a pilot because of his lack of adventurous nature. You look at this house and you can see the core of a family. A house that, no matter how far you go for Jake’s job, will always be home base.

Jake is leaning around you so you can both watch the house from the passenger seat window. “I’d offer to show you around, but I don’t get the keys until morning.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him. “I don’t need to see inside.”

When you say that, he falls back into his seat. The back of his head presses against the headrest. His fingers squeeze the steering wheel with his sigh of defeat. “You don’t like it.”

Shifting your body to face him, you say, “Jake, I love it.”

Just like that, his eyes brighten like a pouting child who was just offered a lollipop, and you can’t help but chuckle. You can’t help but forget everything that happened earlier in the night, all of it seeming so insignificant now, even though you know it’s not, and you both know that if he ever makes the same mistake again, he’ll have hell to pay. But something tells you that won’t be a problem. 

“Enough to live with me?” he asks.

You nod. “Enough to live with you.”

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments make my entire world, so if you liked it, let me know? Thanks :)

[weixuldo]

Who's your Daddy?

Older!James Kelly x f!reader

(SORRY FOR BEING GONE SO LONG OMLLLL- i’ve never written anything other than starwars lol- but I hope this is enjoyable. I also havent ever written fauxscest and I wouldn't say i'm really into it, but I feel like it fits the character lowkey)

One of James' customer mistakes you for his daughter and you actually play along...James isnt thrilled

warnings: dead dove do not eat?, Fauxscest, age gap, orgasm denial, just regular schmegular smex, name calling,

________________

 “Fuck Jamie!” you squealed as DILF!James Kelly harshly bent you over the old camaro that had been sitting in his shop for the past two weeks. 

His strong tattooed hand had your nicely curled hair in a strong grip as he smacked your ass with the other. “You wanna act like a child so bad, then I’ll treat you like one” he said as he continued to spank you. 

Earlier, James had been finishing up a job on an old Ford pickup and was negotiating payment with the owner when you skipped out from inside the shop wearing shorts and a tank top.

In James’ “office”- really just a room with a chair and desk that he’d toss papers on (or eat you out on)- he had a bowl of candy just in case a client brought around their kids. James never really knew what to do with kids, but you told him having a candy jar would make him seem less scary.

Of course he had one the next day.

But clients never really brought their kids around the shop so you got to enjoy the majority of the candy. Today you were feeling the cherry lollipop and twirled it around your mouth as you scampered out to see what James was up to. 

As you walked out you saw James broad back facing you as he stood with his arms crossed towards a gruff man with gray hair. They looked like they were talking shop- how boring.

You sighed and were about to go back inside when the gray haired man noticed you. 

“Kelly, you never mentioned ya had kids?”. 

James was taken aback- kids? 

He turned to see what the man was looking at when his icy eyes landed on your tantalizing form; it was nearly 97 degrees and humid as fuck- why the hell did you look so good?

He subconsciously licked his bottom lip before remembering the man’s comment; he turned back just about to protest when you skipped up to him and threw your arms around him. 

“He’s never mentioned me?” you said with a fake pout. 

“But dad- I thought you were proud of me? Why don’t you tell your friends about me?” 

James was too stunned to speak- sure, you’d occasionally call him “daddy” in bed but he never thought that act would leave the bedroom. His left eye twitched as he looked down at your doe eyed expression. 

“Haha- I’m sure yer Dad’s proud of ya kiddo- probably just wanted to hide you away cause you’d have all the boys riled up” the gray haired man chuckled as James fought to keep his frustration at bay. 

“Is that why daddy?” you asked innocently. 

James was pissed

…

and extremely turned on.

But he was really bothered that his client was obviously checking you out right in front of him. He clenched his jaw once more before straining out an answer. 

“Yea thats why, sweetheart. I’d hate to have to get the shotgun out of the shed for something other than hunting” he falsely smiled. 

You hugged him once more before heading back inside “Well I’ll let you two keep talking- Thanks for choosing my dad’s shop” you smiled at the man before your boyfriend. 

He shot back a bright grin “Not a problem darlin’, I’ll be sure to come to yer Dad’s shop from now on haha”. 

James clenched his fists at his sides, he could feel himself losing his composure.

The man finally paid James and added a little extra and told him to “buy somethin’ nice for that daughter of yer’s”. 

Oh- James would definitely not be buying you something nice after the little stunt you just pulled. 

“She's a looker Kelly, better keep an eye on her'' the man commented once more before hopping into his newly fixed truck. 

James just nodded as he counted the money the man paid him, “Yea, i’m always lookin at her- especially when she's bouncing on my cock”. 

The old man’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets; “Pardon?!”. 

James finally met his eye once more with a smug look, “Yea, she’s not my daughter- that’s my girlfriend”. 

The man just sat with the truck held in reverse as he tried to replay the whole interaction. 

“And I’m gonna fuck her raw for that shit she just pulled- Thanks for the tip and have a nice day” he said before shoving the cash into his pocket and shutting the garage gate. 

You had taken a seat at James’ desk as you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. You thought it was funny to play with him like that but you didn’t think it would get him too worked up- so when you heard him call for you to come out to the garage your body buzzed with nervous excitement. 

He had called your name harsher than he normally would so you could tell he was feeling some type of way but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what… were you about to be lectured, yelled at, or fucked? 

Maybe all three heh

James was standing domineeringly with his feet slightly parted and arms crossed tight as you entered the garage. 

“Yesss? What’s wrong Jamie” you answered innocently. 

He clicked his tongue and cut his eyes, “you know damn well what you were doing”. 

You pouted your pretty lips and shook your head, “I don’t really see anything wrong with joking” you said smugly. 

Annnd now you’re here, bent over his camaro with him ruthlessly plunging his thick cock in and out of you.

James’ veins popped as he tugged at your hair with one hand and angled your hips up with the other. He was panting like an animal as he forcefully thrusted into you, heavy balls slapping against your swollen clit. 

“Fuck, please! Jamie- Slow down!” you cried as you grounded yourself on the hood of the old car as your boyfriend hit it from the back. 

“Jamie?” he questioned, squeezing your ass harder.

“James!” you managed.

He let out a low chuckle that made you even wetter than before, “you wanted to call me dad so bad earlier, what happened, doll?”. 

You could hear his stupid smirk in the way he spoke, you wanted to say something but all that was coming out were pathetic whimpers and moans.

You felt him shudder as you clenched your gummy walls around his throbbing cock- “s-shit” he cursed under his breath as he slowly pulled out until just his tip was left in you. 

Your eyes were already brimming with tears-but when he stopped his movements, the tears started to flow. Your poor pussy ached for him to slide between your folds- once he started, you needed him to finish. 

It was almost criminal how empty you felt without your boyfriend’s dick inside of you. You began to whine the longer he held still. 

“You think you’re so slick, little brat” he growled as his rough palm made contact with your bright red ass cheek for the umpteenth time. 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear and you felt the cool silver of his cross chain as it slid down your arched spine. 

“Who am I” he asked with a dangerous lilt to his voice. 

“James” you cried again, you knew that was the wrong answer but you needed him to keep going.

Without warning he plunged into you and bottomed out as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. But just as fast as he was in, he had resumed the previous position. 

“Incorrect” he said before pulling completely out. 

You whimpered before he flipped you around so that you were staring at his flushed face; God he was perfect. Looking down between the two of you- his hard cock was completely coated in your combined juices and twitched as he stood over you. 

He grabbed your hips and lined himself up with your aching core once more before shoving himself in with an abrupt snap of his hips. You gripped onto his forearms as you yelped. 

“Who am I” he asked once more, his voice low with lust. 

“D-Daddy” you cried in humiliation as you shied away from James’ watchful eyes. 

He halted his movements and leaned closer to your ear, “Almost. What did you call me earlier, doll?” he said with a devious smirk. 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, “...dad”. 

“What was that baby? Didn’t hear ya” James taunted. 

“DAD!” you wailed as you dug your nails into your older man’s forearms. 

“That’s it, Sweetheart” he smiled as he quickened his pace. 

You moaned as his sloppy thrusts jiggled your breasts around for Jame’s viewing pleasure. You felt your high approaching fast. 

“Fuck- I”m close- I” you cried as James continued diving deeper and deeper into your sopping cunt. 

James bit his bottom lip and pulled out as fast as he had been fucking you; leaving you with a disappointingly empty feeling. You gasped at the loss of his massive member and your eyes shot open to see why your boyfriend felt the need to pull out. 

There he was in all of his glory; brow adorned with sweat , face flushed, brows drawn together, and lips parted. Soon you felt his warm ropes of cum spilling onto your stomach, you whimpered at the wasted seed and your lost orgasm. 

He finished stroking himself with a shudder and squeezed out the rest of his spend onto you with a low groan. 

“W-why?” you almost cried as your boyfriend began to clean himself off. 

“Good girls wouldn’t cum from their dad’s dick-” he tossed you a towel from the hanger on the wall, “I hope you’ve learned your lesson, little one”. 

“Once you’ve had time to think about your actions and clean up- maybe I’ll consider letting you cum” he said before leaving you alone and empty in his dim office. 

***

lol I hope you enjoyed :)

[eternalmoonlight18]

Maybe This Time...

Akagami no Shanks x afab!Reader

NEXT CHAPTER

synopsis: You and Shanks were raised together in Roger’s crew. However that was over a decade ago, and now that you reunited with him once again, he doesn’t plan on letting you go.

cw: sfw, childhood friends to lovers trope! fluffy and then angst and then fluffy again in the end… should this be a two part series?! lmk!

a/n: this is not proofread, i just got the sudden urge to write at midnight LOL. real ones will notice that this is based off of a song by the same title, esp if you grew up watching filipino rom com movies!

wc: 2.6k

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

It was a cool and calm night as the Oro Jackson gently swayed against the calm waves of the Grand Line. The ship was filled with pirates, dreaming away after a long day of fighting against Marines. Loud snores can be heard echoing through the ship and into the quiet night sky.

A young 12 year-old-girl crawled up to the deck, trying to find a peaceful area to sleep away from the grown men who snored loudly in their bedchambers. She lightly scampered up to the deck and up to the crow’s nest, only to find it was occupied by a boy with red hair, who was leaning up against the pole at the centre of the nest.

The boy heard the scuffling and turned around to see you. He flashed a bright smile that shone with the stars the littered the night sky. You reciprocated as you made your way to sit beside him.

“What’re you doing here Shanks?” you quipped.

“Couldn’t sleep. These geezers snore so loud that one day I think they’ll attract Sea Kings in the middle of the night.” he jokingly said.

Shanks’ comment made you giggle. “Hey, that’s going to be you one day. A loud old man who snores like beast.” you shot at him.

The boy pouted as he crossed his arms. “And you’re going to be a wrinkly old granny who’s going to be all alone.” he retorted.

You stood up and pointed down at him. “That’s not nice!” you whined.

“You literally started it!” he scoffed as he looked up at you.

Before you couldn’t answer back, a sudden light flashed by. You whipped your head around in surprised and ran to the edge of the crows nest and saw a shower of shooting started to decorate the night sky. Gripping the rail of the nest, your breath hitched as you lightly gasped at the sight before you.

“Oh my gods, look Shanks! Shooting stars! Quick make a wish!” you squealed as you jumped up and down in excitement.

The red-haired boy lightly laughed as he got up and made his way beside you. With his arms leaning up against the rail, he watched the light show with you. He turned his head to his left and rested his eyes on you as your attention was focused on the falling stars. As the light continued to shine and fall, Shanks was mesmerized by the sight in front of him. He swore that you were lighting up just like the stars, with your lips pulled back in a genuine smile as your eyes gleamed in excitement. As he continued to observe you, he saw the reflection of the stars in your irises and his breath hitched in awe. An uncomfortable feeling started to churn in his stomach and chest as he felt his eyes soften at the sight of you.

You turn your head to the right to see Shanks staring at you.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you questioned, noticing the weird expression on his face.

He quickly broke away from the trance that you put him in and pulled his eyes away. He scratched his cheek in embarrassment as a light pink colour started showing up on his cheeks. He shyly glanced back to you and saw that your face plastered with innocence and curiosity.

“You looked funny while you were looking at the shooting stars.” he said in excuse.

The smile that graced your lips fell as you furled your eyebrows in annoyance. “I was making a wish for you information.” you snarked at him.

Shanks hummed. “What did you wish?” he asked.

When he asked the question, your gaze softened as you turned around and faced the sea once more. “I wished to stay forever like this. With Captain Roger and the whole crew, with you and Buggy, forever sailing and looking for adventure.” you sighed.

The boy raised his eyebrow as you confessed. “You’re so cheesy.” he laughed.

Not breaking away from the sight of the vast sea, you hmphed. “Shut up. What was your wish?” you asked back.

Shanks turned around and faced the same direction as he rested his head on his arms. Silence took over as he thought about your question.

“Wishing on stars is for little kids.” he finally spoke. His voice was mixed in with a slight hesitation that you failed to notice.

You lightly punched his left shoulder. “We’re both twelve stupid. We are kids.” you giggled.

The boy laughed with you as the both you watched the shooting stars finally come to an end. Another pregnant paused filled the air until you broke the silence.

“Can you promise me something Shanks?” you quietly asked as you turned your entire body to face him.

“What is it?” he answered as he tilted his head to face you.

You bowed your head, refusing to meet his eyes. Your left foot scrapped the wooden floor as you fidgeted nervously. As courage started to swell in you once more, you raised your head and looked right into Shank’s deep brown eyes.

“You’ll stay by my side forever right?” you shyly and quietly asked him.

“Hah?” the boy gasped in surprise. He stumbled back and started looking away. The pink tinge on his cheeks started to deepen as he glanced back at you. As he found his footing once more, he rubbed the back of his head with his left hand and laughed.

“You’re so silly (Y/n)! Of course I’ll stay by your side. We’re best friends right?” he joyfully replied.

A giggle escaped your lips as you smiled widely at the boy in front of you. Shanks reciprocated the smile as he reached his right hand out. You gladly took it with your left as he pulled you into a hug.

“Don’t ever leave my side okay?” he whispered.

You tightened your arms around him as you buried your head into his right shoulder.

“You’d have to pry my dead body off of you if you want to get rid of me.” you joked.

The light breeze touched the skin of the two friends as they sat back down to watch the stars together.

————-

The rain fell hard as it splattered onto the concrete ground of the town. People were scampering around in chaos mixed with yells and screams. The sky was dark and clouded, reflecting the mood of the area.

You were now 15 years old, and Gold Roger, your captain, was just executed.

You ran across town chasing after Shanks after you saw him run away after your captain was killed in front of everyone. As you maneuvered around the town, you spotted Buggy and Shanks who were standing in front of each other. As you ran closer, you saw that Buggy turned his back from his friend and ran away to your direction.

“Buggy!” you called out as he ran. But he ignored you, running past you in silence. You get a brief glimpse at him and see that his face was painted with a scowl with light tears running down his face.

Your legs continued to move forward as you ran towards Shanks. His head was bowed down with his hands dangling from his sides. As you reached in front of him, he looked up with a heavy expression resting on his face. His eyes were void of emotion as he scanned your eyes.

“Shanks…” you trembled as your emotions caught up to you. The rain started pouring down harder as you and the red-haired 15 year old stared at each other in defeat.

“He’s gone…” he muttered quietly.

“I know Shanks, I know.” you choked as hot tears started to pour down from your face.

The boy’s lips started to frown as he watched you cry. As your sobs grew louder, you crouched down in a fetal position, burring your face into your arms as you continued to cry. Shanks’ resolve slowly started to crumble as he tried to choke back sobs that was threatening to escape his throat. Lifting his right arm up, he tried to reach out to you, but drew back in hesitation. He turned his head to the side as he started to speak.

“I’m going.” he said plainly.

Your head shot up. With glossy eyes, you stared at your red-haired friend. “Then take me with you.”

“No.” he said curtly.

“What? What do you mean no?” you started to raised your face as you rapidly got up from the ground. “Shanks, you promised me that we’d stay together!”

In that moment, he gripped the handle of his sword so tight, that white started to appear on his knuckles. Shanks lowered his head, allowing the raindrops that fell on his straw hat to drip down onto the concrete ground.

“I’m going back to the Grand Line on my own. You should stay here, or somewhere, away from the seas.” he said.

More tears started to stream down your face as you walked up to him and shook his shoulders. “What nonsense are you talking about?! Who are you to tell me to not go back to the sea? Shanks you promised me that you wouldn’t leave me!” you wailed.

The red-haired boy swatted your hands away from shoulder and started to back step away from you. Your eyebrows scrunched in disbelief as you watched him slowly turn around and walk away from you.

“Goodbye Y/n.” he said as he walked away in the rain.

“No!” you screamed at him. “No Shanks don’t leave me!” you yelled. Your calls were futile has he continued to walk away, not looking back.

You didn’t understand. Why did everything you have get ruined?

You clutched your chest as you fell to your knees, not caring that the impact of the fall banged up your knee caps.

The only thing that could be heard was the bloodcurdling scream of Shanks’ name echo throughout Loguetown.

—————

You come face to face with the man you vowed to never see again.

It’s been fifteen years since you last seen Shanks at Loguetown. You’re now 30 years old and working as a Pirate Hunter. You were docked at a remote island for a two days and was heading back to your small ship before you found yourself facing the man who left you crying in the rain.

He was now a full grown man, taller, stronger, with three scars slashed on his left eye, and missing a left arm. His signature straw hat was also missing from his head.

Shanks didn’t expect to see you in front of him either. Looking down at you, he saw that you were now a full grown woman. But he knew that it was still the same old you, the same best friend he had.

And he knew that you still held a grudge against him.

You glared at him, then attempted to walk past him without saying a word before he spoke up.

“It’s good to see you Y/n.”

Ignoring his greeting, you made your way to your ship at the sanded beach. Hauling a sack at your back, you threw it over your shoulder and onto the boat as you prepared to leave the island.

The red-haired man pulled up next to your boat and watched as you prepared your sails. In the distance, his crew watched curiously as their captain followed this mysterious woman.

“Out of the way red-haired.” you snarled. You glance down at the man and threw a sour expression his way. He smiled back.

“You’re the same as always.” he sighed.

“You have some nerve pretending everything is good between us.” you snapped at him.

Shanks ran his one good hand through his red locks and laughed. “You got me there. But it’s been 15 years Y/n. I’m sure we can put grudges away hm?” he said lightly.

An apple flew at his direction, but unsurprisingly he caught it.

“Shut the fuck up.” you growled. Before you could throw a bigger item at him, your ship suddenly splintered into pieces as a cannonball hit it. You flew out and landed on the sand. It seemed that the pirates you were chasing after caught you off guard and tried to shoot you down.

Shanks quickly tried to help you up from the ground while you sputtered the sand out your mouth. Realizing that he was holding onto your right arm as he hoisted you up, you shoved him away from your side.

“Don’t touch me.” you lowly said.

“You should come in my ship. Those guys are coming for your head.” he replied. He saw that the pirates that shot down your ship were running your direction.

“No.” you muttered as you attempted to limp away from him and the enemy. But this time, Shanks hoisted you up and threw you over his right shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Startled, you started to flail around as he started to make his way to the his ship.

“Yo! Get ready to sail!” he called out to his crew.

“Put me down you ogre!” you yelled as you attempted to punch his broad back. You swore you could feel Shanks grin as he ignored you.

“No can do Y/n! I’m not leaving you this time!” he cheerfully spoke.

You continued to wrestle against Shanks’ tight grip on the back of your legs. Once he climbed on the ship, he gently placed you down on the desk. As soon as your bum hit the floor, you scrambled to get off, only the find that the ship had already sailed away from the island.

“You asshole!” you screamed. Whipping your head to see the infuriating red-haired man shooting a smile your way. “Get me off this ship right now!” you demanded.

He simply shrugged. The his whole crew was now up on the deck, laughing at your suddenly burst of anger.

“No can do, unless you wanna sail to your death on your own out there.” Shanks answered smugly.

Stomping towards Shanks, you jab a finger into his chest as you snarled at him. “You fucking kidnapped me! You had the nerve to show your face after fifteen years and kidnap me onto your ship! You’re a lunatic Red-haired!” you shrieked.

Shanks’ chest rumbled with laughter, with the rest of the crew following suit. He placed his hand onto your right shoulder as he stooped down to your left ear.

“Well, I’m here now to keep that promise we made hmm?” he lowly purred in your ear. The man pulled away and raised his eyebrow in amusement as he saw your face turn red. A deep frown was plastered on your lips as your eyebrows furled in anger.

The palms of your hand collided with his sturdy chest as you shoved him away from you. You stomped away to the other side of the gigantic ship, not wanting to come in contact with your former friend at all.

“Y/n!” he called out to you as he watched your back walk away. He grinned widely as you twisted your upper body to shoot up a middle finger at his direction.

By the gods above you were back in his life, and it somehow felt just right. Maybe this time, his wish would come true.

“What did you wish for?” he recalled your 12 year old self asking him.

“For you to be my partner in this lifetime.” he finally admitted to himself, 18 years after that one fateful night when he fell in love with you.

This time he would make things right with you.

[idontcaboose]

Haunted car au, pt2

Prev

Danny had waited for a bit to make sure no one else was in the cave with him before he started trying to escape. He found out that: trying to shove or push his way out resulted in the horn to honk, flailing around caused the doors, trunk, and hood to open and close, trying to blast his way out turned on the brights, and after getting a little claustrophobic, he caused the windows and roof to roll down. He didn't know the Batmobile was a convertible, he can't really see Batman letting the top down to let wind blow in his pointy ears. That would be silly.

He isn't sure how no one came down to check the noises he was making, that honk was loud in the enclosed area. The bats above definitely didn't like it, Danny felt the need for a couple of showers, which made him wonder how a car wash would feel. There was a loud *ding* noise that snapped Danny out of his pondering, and he saw an older gentleman start wandering the cave and tidying it up. The man did tsk at the car and where it was parked, as well as the mess that was on the vehicle. It wasn't too much later when another *ding* echoed through the cave and the older gentleman greeted a young dark skinned teenager. It was nice to know that the man's name was Alfred and the teen was Duke.

Duke concerned Danny, he kept looking at him, or well, the car, weirdly. Alfred didn't seem surprised that the car was in the spot it was in, he was just annoyed that no one parked it in a better spot. Duke however, looked like the car was creeping him out. Duke looked a little sick when Alfred asked him to move the car and wash it before he went on patrol. Was Danny really that dirty? He could only look out the windows as if he was just sitting in the car, and the hood didn't look that bad.

Duke slowly approached the car like it would bite him. Danny decided to see if he could shift his perspective to the passenger seat so it didn't feel awkward mentally occupying the seat Duke was about to sit in. It was a weird sensation, but Duke seemed to relax a bit after he did so. Danny kept an eye on Duke as he felt the engine turn on, Danny tensed as he felt the car be put into reverse. It wasn't until Duke revved the engine a bit that Danny realized he was keeping the car from moving. Danny tried relaxing a bit and gave Duke a sheepish look. Danny trusted Duke to drive him to where he was supposed to go, and away they went. They parked on a platform a few feet lower than the main chamber; it housed a handful of cars and motorcycles, all of various colors. Danny was among his ‘new’ people now.

The thing about showers and getting clean, it was usually done by oneself, getting cleaned by another person was not a thing Danny wanted to experience again. He made a note to tell whoever cares for him in his old age, to end him before he needs the dreaded sponge baths. It wasn't that Duke was doing a bad job of washing the car, but the water was ice cold, the cloth was scratchy, and he was just left to drip dry! Even his dad would towel off the GAV when it needed a wash, the disrespect of machines today. Danny accidentally made his displeasure known by revving the engine in a way that was almost akin to a growl. Duke scampered away quickly after that.

It wasn't long until the kid stepped back onto the platform and took the yellow and black bike out of the tunnel. Alone again, and now facing the tunnel of freedom.

Now how to get this thing into drive on his own?

HOOONNNNKKKK

*sigh*

______________

Next?

@kizzer55555

@trappednyourheart

@candeartist422

@sebas-nights

@fandom-life-corrupted-me

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Journals - Charles Leclerc

<word count - 3518>

It had now been 5 years since you and Charles had started going out, and what a 5 years it had been. There had been tears, laughter, anger, and pure, unfiltered love. Despite the hectic, emotional rollercoaster that you had ridden together, you wouldn't change it for the world.

And now, this morning was the morning of his birthday. His 27th, to be more precise. The 5th of his that you would be spending together, and hopefully the 5th of many, many more. He was never really fussed about the day when it just told him he was getting older, but you liked to celebrate nonetheless.

You had gotten up before Charles, canceling his alarm the previous evening when he had fallen asleep to give him a well-deserved lie-in. Everything was already prepped and ready to go, so all you had to do was make sure it was all in place.

You crept out of bed, scampering off to the kitchen so that he couldn't hear your footsteps on the hardwood floor. You had bought some helium balloons the previous day and hid them in one of the cupboards in your walk-in closet. He'd never find them in there.

You also picked out the single box that was wrapped in the most colourful wrapping paper you could find, bringing it into the bedroom and putting it on your side of the bed. You put the balloons on his side and let Charles sleep longer.

Around an hour had gone by, and he still hadn't stirred. One thing you always marveled at with Charles was his ability to just sleep. Didn't matter how many hours or how loud anyone was being around him, the man would sleep. He'd probably sleep through an F5 tornado if you'd let him try.

"Charles?" you softly said, nudging his shoulder. All the man from Monaco could do was grunt and roll away from you, pulling the covers up to his shoulders. "Baby c'mon," you chuckled as he turned his head to look at you, squinting through one eye.

"5 more minutes, mon amour..." he mumbled, closing his eyes and settling back in again. You didn't want to force him up, since he'd be grumpy. And, the last thing you needed was a grumpy Charles on his birthday.

"Fine, 5 more minutes," you relented, sitting back against the pillows as you counted down his extra sleep time.

"Darling, c'mere," he sleepily mumbled, rolling back over to face you as he pulled the covers back and opened his arms out.

"What?" you laughed, and the scowl on his face was more adorable than it was scary. If Charles wanted something, he wouldn't stop until he got it. Even if he wasn't getting anything but laughed at when he pulled a face like that.

"I want cuddles. And before you deny me, let me stress that they are birthday cuddles," he instructed, but there was no real frustration in his words. As he had said, there was no way that a good girlfriend would say no to birthday cuddles, so you did as he asked.

Shuffling closer to him, you shifted to lay by his side, and he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you and pulling you so that your head rested on his chest. "See? That wasn't so difficult. Now we're both comfy," he teased, holding you tighter.

"Never said it was difficult," you mumbled, the claws of tiredness trying to drag you back into the realm of sleep. It wasn't like you had anything to do for the rest of the day, so not getting up right now wasn't the end of the world.

You drifted back off to sleep, snuggling even more into Charles' side, embracing the comfort he brought. How much time had passed? You didn't know.

When you woke up, you opened your eyes to Charles looking down at you with a listless smile on his face. "And you were knocked out for another 3 hours." he chuckled, not too loudly since you had just woken up.

"3 hours?" you asked, shocked that you had been out for that much longer. Glancing over him to the clock on his bedside table, you saw that it was nearing 12 pm, but you felt very well rested.

"Yes darling, 3 hours. You were out like a light. And, thank you for the balloons and the random box on the bed. I haven't opened it, don't worry," he smiled, and the realization hit you like a tonne of bricks.

"Oh my God, happy birthday!" you squealed, obviously being more excited for his birthday than he was at this point. Scrambling out of the lying down position that you were in, you moved to straddle his lap and pepper kisses all over his face. "How does it feel to be 27?" you asked him, holding his face in your hands.

"I can feel the hip replacement coming on, that's for sure," he chuckled, and all you could do was roll your eyes at him. "But I feel a hell of a lot better now that you're where you are," he smirked, tugging you closer by your hips.

"You don't need a hip replacement, drama queen," you laughed, ruffling up his already messy hair.

"No, no I don't. All I need is you, right where you are," he grinned, leaning in and kissing you. It started off soft and chaste before quickly turning more passionate, hungrier. "You have no idea what you do to me," he mumbled against your lips, gripping your hips harder.

"Oi, not yet, presents first," you told him, trying to get off his lap. Charles was one step ahead, holding you down.

"It's my birthday, can't I decide what I want?" he pouted, trying to lean in for another kiss.

"For the rest of the day, yes. But now? You're just gonna have to listen to me," he said, getting off his lap before he could protest again.

"God it's a good job I love you." he scoffed, letting you grab the box and replace yourself with it on his lap. "And what's this?" he asked.

"Gotta open it to find out, silly," you giggled, watching him with bated breath. This was something you had been waiting literal years to give him and now seemed like the right time to finally hand it over.

Ripping the wrapping paper off of the box, nothing but cardboard was revealed to him. He opened the flaps, seeing the leather-bound journal as the contents. He cocked a quizzical eyebrow at you, and you just nodded.

He picked it up, scanning his eyes over the plain cover. "Open it," you told him, eager to see his reaction to it. Opening the cover, his eyes fell to the note scrawled on to the inside of it.

'Dear Charles, happy birthday! The big 27... not long until you're 30, eh? Anyway, I have been wanting to give you this for a while, but I didn't think it was quite complete. Now, however, I feel like it's the right time. This has been a work in progress for 5 years, and I really really hope you like it. I love you.'

"What?" he asked again, and you just expectantly looked at him. Tentatively, he turned the first page of the book. "You... is this...?" he trailed off, reading the words scrawled on the page.

'7/8/19 - I've got a date tonight... Yeah. You read that right. A date. A real date. I met him in the coffee shop on Monday and he asked me out. Who knew that kind of shit actually happened to people? He is absolutely gorgeous, apparently he's famous so we'll see just how famous he is.

OK, I just googled him and he's a Formula 1 driver. How the hell I am going on a date with this man is beyond me, but I am not complaining! I'll let you know how it goes!

I just got home and oh my lord that was the best date I have ever been on. He's just so... lovely. Like he is such a gentleman and I really really really like him! He gave me his number, so you best believe I am asking for another date. Unless he's not interested... which is like... totally fine... wouldn't be upset at all...'

"Is this just from the early days or is this everything up until now?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the pages. The first few were mainly writing, until there were more pictures of the two of you, receipts, tickets, just everything and anything you could get your hands on and stick in the book.

"This is everything from 2019 up to the start of 2021. Then the rest of 2021 to 2023 in the other book in there. And then I do have one currently running which is hidden somewhere," you explained, and the look on his face was nothing but pure awe.

"And I can read through all of this?"

"Yeah, all of it. It might take you some time, so you don't have to right now,"

"Oh no I am reading through it right now." he dismissed, one of the next notes after your first date containing a few capitalised words.

'21/8/19 - Right. I have news. HE KISSED ME HOLY LORD THIS MAN IS LIKE A GODSEND! It was just such a good kiss, you know? He wasn't doing it to go any further than that, it felt like he just wanted to kiss me. It was perfect. He seems perfect. I really hope he doesn't just magically become a dick, because I think that'd break my heart. I really like him, and I can see this whole thing going somewhere really good... We're going out again tomorrow before he goes away for a triple header of races, so that'll be good.'

"Our first kiss was that special to you, huh?" he teased, loving the way you blushed at him. It was just the same as it had been since he first met you. It was so nice to see that your thoughts on those moments reflected his own.

"Course it was," you replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Charles flicked through the pages some more, looking for a particular date that he had ingrained into his mind forever.

'1/9/19 - OK... So... I don't really know how to put this. Things may have, dare I say, progressed, in certain departments. We can just say that we partook in the devil's tango and the moves were perfectly blissful. One minute we were at dinner, the next we were back at his place. In his bed. Racing isn't his only talent, and that is saying something.

What can I say, it was nice to feel considered during such an activity. Again, perfectly blissful, and it was also all thanks to him. And did I forget to mention that I am officially off the market? Yes, you heard it here folks, I am officially a girlfriend! We woke up the next morning, he made me breakfast in bed and asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend and I would be a fool to say no. God I love my life.'

"That night surely was something. And I'm glad you felt considered, my love," he laughed, and you couldn't help but swat him on the chest. You knew he'd poke fun at you for what you had written in there, but that was the price of sharing something so intimate with him.

"I felt very considered, thank you very much. Always do," you winked at him, and now it was his turn to flush red. "If you thought that bit was bad, read the next day." you laughed, knowing that this could go one of two ways.

'2/9/19 - So, not much has changed from yesterday. Bar a few things. We have spent all day in Charles' apartment, mainly in bed. And a few other places, we like to switch it up. We're not all vanilla. Again, this man already knows me inside and out and it is baffling. I'll spit it out now, best sex of my life. No beating around the bush.

Currently writing this and he's fast asleep next to me. God he's so gorgeous, isn't he? You can't see him, but the possessive part of me doesn't want you to. He is such a handsome man. But he looks so peaceful, you know? I almost want to take a picture, but I don't want to feel like a creep. I might be his girlfriend, but I feel like that's a little too much, so I'll settle for a mental snapshot for now.'

"Best sex of your life, eh?" he smirked at you, the mischief in his voice not being lost on you.

"After that whole segment, that was the bit you focus on?" you sighed with no real malice.

"As much as I love the compliments, I am still a man at the end of the day. So yes, that is the bit I focus on. And don't worry, it's the best sex of my life too, my love," he chuckled, purposely trying to toy with you.

That was one thing that Charles was always relentless with, and it was teasing you. Any opportunity that presented itself, he'd be there to take the mick out of you for one thing or another. He wasn't doing it to hurt you, but he loved the reactions that you gave him.

"So is this after every date or big event?"

"Yeah, it is," you told him, and his eyes widened.

"Wow... this is so cool..." he mumbled, flicking through a couple more pages. You had stuck in all sorts, tonnes of pictures that he didn't know you had taken, the first of many tickets to the concert of your favourite band that he always took you to. One of the entries after a weekend away that the two of you had spent together caught his eye, however.

'3/11/19 - I won't lie to you, I miss him a hell of a lot more than I thought I would. He'll only be gone for the weekend, so why am I so... lost without him? All we did was spend the weekend glued to each other's sides, but now he's gone I feel so weird. Does that make sense?

Or maybe it's because he told me he loved me before he left and I didn't say it back. I don't know why I didn't say it back. I just panicked, kissed him and told him to have a safe flight. I didn't want to text him that I love him because I want him to hear me say it. I really hope I haven't messed all of this up.'

"Yeah, you did scare me pretty bad with that one. Although, I thought I had messed everything up by saying it too early. Even if I had loved you for a pretty long time before that," he sheepishly admitted.

Every word of it was the truth, Charles thought he had loved you since probably your second date, but that was definitely too soon to spill the beans and actually confess it. He had never felt fear quite like it when you hadn't said it back, and he had spent all weekend wondering whether things would be weird when he got home or not.

But he'd never forget walking out of the airport and being nearly tackled to the ground in a hug and instantly inhaling the scent of your familiar perfume. All you said was, "I love you too," before he kissed you stupid.

He didn't care that he had spent all weekend worrying anymore, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that you felt the same and now he was home for a short while. He would able to spend the weekend with you, in bed, as per usual.

"Sorry about that, that was completely my fault," you conceded, still not sure as to why you hadn't said it back. Charles would've been overjoyed, so would you. It would have saved a while weekend of distressing for the both of you.

Skipping ahead a good chunk of pages, the snippets of words that he was seeing made him smile. There was all sorts of little memories and snapshots that he would've forgotten about if he hadn't had them in perfect detail, in your writing.

'25/12/19 - Merry Christmas! I've come home to have Christmas with Mum and Dad, Charles has stayed in Monaco. Spending two weeks at home is really nice, to be honest. I do miss him, and a hell of a lot, but I'm coping.

I guess I don't need to be dependent on him, but I do want to see him on Christmas. Maybe next year, huh? I'm home for the new year as well, so I won't be able to spend that with him either, but I'm sure we've got a lot of time.'

He had missed you that Christmas and New Year, but he understood that you needed to spend it at home, just like he did. He remembered having your gifts sent over, and the surprise when you called him to thank him.

That Christmas was when you learned about Charles tendency to spoil you rotten whenever he got the chance. But he agreed with you, he knew you'd come home and there wasn't any anxiety or pressure over what might happen, since you had gotten to a point in your relationship where you were feeling stable.

Another heading caught his eye.

'15/5/20 - Charles has gotten into this little habit of streaming now that he can't race as much, and today I spotted him in a banana costume. You heard me right, a banana costume. Don't worry, I will be putting a picture in here somewhere.

When the Amazon box arrived the other day, I asked him about it and I was wondering why he was being too twitchy about it. And now I know why. Well, I don't know why he did it for the stream, but I do know that it was funny as hell.

Poor guy looked mortified when I walked in after the stream and saw him sat there looking like one of the bananas in pyjamas. I don't think I've ever seen him that embarrassed. But God do I love him.'

"Right the banana costume was not that funny," Charles pouted, sending a scowl in your direction.

"Oh it was," you laughed, even the thought of the memory triggering an oncoming fit of giggles.

"Stop laughing at me," he mumbled.

"But baby it's so funny!" you cackled, trying to contain it but failing miserably. Every time you calmed down, you looked at him and saw the scowl plastered on his face and it set you off again.

"That's it," he said, putting the book back in the box and pushing you back down against the pillows. Before you knew it, Charles was on top of you, his hands boxing you in at either side of his head.

"Not laughing so much now, are we?" he said with a slightly mocking tone, and all you could do was shake your head, still adjusting to the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Before, it was a nostalgic innocence as you walked down memory lane together. Now, the air was charged with an electricity that only Charles seemed to be able to spark you with. "Now, the only thing I want to hear from you are those pretty sounds you make when I make you feel good, got it?" he instructed.

You nodded, looking up at him with wide eyes. He never failed to make heat pool in your stomach when he got like this, and who were you to deny a man what he wanted on his birthday - especially when you knew how good it was going to get?

"Tell me you understand, darling. Talk to me," he murmured against the skin of your neck as he leant in to press soft kisses on the area.

"Yeah, I understand," you confirmed, a little too quickly. The eagerness was practically radiating off of you, and Charles couldn't help but revel in it. He loved when you got like this, all submissive and pliable just for him.

"That's my good girl," he praised, moving his lips over your neck and shoulder, occasionally nipping at the skin and seeing how it turned red. "And you're going to let me to what I want to you, aren't you, princess?"

"Mhm, yeah," you hummed, letting him lavish your body in attention. He let out a low growl at your response, needing to have you. All of you.

Sitting back on his haunches, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, giving you a knowing smirk. "Can I?" he asked, knowing you'd say yes. Surely enough, you nodded to him as he started to pull the fabric down your legs.

And it was at this point you knew that Charles was going to have a very, very happy birthday indeed, and you were both going to have a hell of a good time. 

A/N - What would we do without this man, eh? Tanti auguri to the prettiest of them all, Lord Perceval himself! Forza Ferrari, Forza Charles Leclerc.

Side note as well - Part 4 of the little Lando series (part 1, part 2, part 3) I have going on is nearly done and nearly at 10k... will be wrapping it up and whacking a part 5 and possible part 6 to it. I'll see how much more I have to go over!

|masterlist|

[mysicklove]

you ask for a thirst?, I shall deliver. this is something I've thought about but I don't know if it's good enough for a fic.. pro-hero!kirishima, who has a worker (like an assistant, fem!reader) who whenever he does something well (idk defeats a powerful villain, or something along the lines) rewards him by fucking him.

THIS IS SHIT IM SORRY!!

No this is such a good idea. I swear that makes so much sense with his character. I was going to make this a drabble but one thing led to another…

𝐌𝐑. 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓!

Paring: Sub! Top! Pro-Hero Kirishima x Dom! Bottom! Female! Assistant reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Oral (fem receiving), vaginal penetration, multiple orgasms, teasing lol

A/N: This low-key isn't hot, its more fun and cute. I feel like hot-very serious sex is not Kirishimas thing, but also idk what im talking about. I also head cannon him to have a VERY high stamina so lololol

In the beginning, you would make small positive regards on well he did in battle. As his personal assistant, it wasn't unheard of to praise your boss. But then you slowly became more confident when you noticed how positively he reacted. You switched to running your fingers down his biceps and fluttering your lashes at him, while you called him “big” and “strong.” This was the first time you saw him get hard. You kept it to yourself.

You realized he had a crush on you not long later. Watched him come racing to your desk to tell you about his missions. Watched him squirm and falter whenever you got too close to him. And finally watched his crumble under you when you first sucked him off.

But you have never fucked. He was desperate for it at this point and you hung it over his head. It was adorable watching him slowly get pent-up and frustrated. But he never complained.

So you couldn't help but tease him just a tad.

He races out of his desk when he got the call from Pinky. On his way out he sees you, sitting at your desk sucking on a lollipop. He forces himself to tear his gaze away from your lips, that oh just recently was around him, so that he could continue walking.

You on the other hand, rest your head on your hand and grin up at him, before taking the lollipop out of your mouth. “Make sure to be a good boy and catch that villain, maybe you’ll get a nice reward when you come back,” You call and he froze mid-step to turn back to you.

His face turns red and he brings his hands up to play with his face gear in embarrassment. “What type of reward? Do you mean…Do you really…Wait–Stop it! I have to go! I’ll come back, I promise, please wait for me, I’ll be good!” And with that he quickly runs away from you leaving you with a small smirk, loving the way you make the pro hero flustered.

The villain was hard to catch. Simply for one, his quirk was strong, and two, Eijiro could not stay focused. Your voice and that goddamn lollipop could not leave his head and the idea of reward? It was too much for him.

So, when Dynamite grabs the villain, Eijiro manages to scamper away and sprint back to his office. He ignored the raised eyebrow from Pinky, who is confused due to the fact that he always stays around just to make sure nothing happens. They failed to understand that he has somewhere to be!

He rushes over to his office and sees you sitting on his desk, legs crossed, and playing with his Red Riot nameplate. He tries to calm his rapid breaths from the run, so he doesn’t look too desperate, but it fails, and you smirk at him.

He gulps. He is your boss, why the hell is he getting so flustered around you?

“Cmere Mr. Red Riot,” You purr and he jumps. He loves it when you call him that. The two of you have been working together for a while, and he assured you to call him Kirishima, but now at this very moment, he regrets asking you that. Because why the hell does his hero name sound so sexy when it falls from your lips?

He quickly shuts and locks the door before following your command. He stands in front of you and has to look down to make eye contact with you. He towers over you in this position. “Can I have, uh, have my reward now? The villain…He is in jail.” You begin to run your fingers over his bare chest, slightly glistening with sweat. He shudders.

“Was my strong pro-hero doing a good job protecting the city?” You purr as you trace a circle around one of his nipples.

He nods his head rapidly but winces when you pinch the nub lightly. “Y-Yeah! I was good like you said!”

You smile warmly and he looks away with a small blush. “That's great. Good job. What would you like as a reward? I can schedule you a couple of days off from work–I mean you definitely deserve a vacation”

His eyes snap back toward yours in confusion. He leans forward and rests his head on your shoulder. “Don't tease me. You know what I want,” He whines and you grin.

“I can't read minds. You gotta tell me, Red.” Another nickname he adores so much. Probably even more than Red Riot, due to the fact you used it when you gave him head last time.

“Wanna fuck you.” You giggle lightly at the comment and he blushes even more. Then, he mumbles out, “Please?”

You lean forward and begin to press light kisses on his torso and he sighs. “Take off your clothes, love. Is the door locked?” You murmur and he nods his head. “Good boy.” He looks away with a wobbly smile. Then, he begins to undress.

Now, he stands in front of you, completely bare, contrasting your fully clothed self. He can't bear to look at you, he's too embarrassed. His fists clench at his side, waiting for your command.

You slip off your small cardigan and then shimmy your mini skirt off. He watches eagerly, trying his best to not get too hard. Then, you begin to fake struggle with your buttons and look up at him with a pout. “Do you, um, need help Y/N?”

You smile at him. “Would you?” He gulps but nods. He takes a step closer to you and with shaky fingers he begins to take off your shirt, button by button. He holds his hands on your waist as he stares at your now bare breasts. You weren't wearing a bra. He was hard.

You grab his chin and press your lips to his. He moans into it and kisses you back with such intensity, you have to slightly lean back. You fall backward on his desk and he leans over you, elbows leaning next to your head. You feel his cock brush against your panties and gasp.

He begins to kiss your neck and moves down your body. “Been waiting for this. For so long,” He murmurs against your skin, looking up at you with doe eyes.

“Yeah? Ever since I gave you that blowjob?” He licks your stomach and smiles.

“Ever since the first day you complimented me.”

“So desperate,” You tease and he huffs, gently nipping at the skin beneath him.

“But I didn't say anything! Didnt, want to make you uncomfortable!”

“I know. You're so cute.” He blushes again and falters. It's one of those compliments he can't help but blush at. His whole life he tried to be manly and somehow he is reduced to being “cute” to you. It made him feel strange, but good. “Want you to eat me out, can you do that for me, Red?”

He was buzzing with excitement. He has been waiting patiently for you to allow him to return the favor. “Y-Yeah! Thank you.” You laugh lightly at his politeness.

He tears himself from the desk and kneels in front of your clothed pussy. He grabs the lacey underwear and pulls it down, exposing you completely. He stares at it, admiring it with blown pupils. He doesn't know where to start. His throbbing cock was distracting him. “Taking your sweet time down there aren't ya? Need any help?”

He grips your hips and pulls you forward onto his mouth. You gasp. His arms wrap around the back of your thighs and he traps you in his hold. He laps and suckles like a starved man.

Your head falls back against the desk and you arch your back slightly. One of your hands falls on his red hair and grips it. “Doing so well for me. Making me f-feel so good.” His moans come out muffled.

He begins to hump the air and his eyes begin to water with his lack of air. Drool and other juices begin to drip down his chin and his red eyes don't leave yours. He feels a sense of pride when he watches you come undone. It makes me feel like he is needed.

He unbelievably was messy. The noises that came from below were lewd and if anyone pressed their ear against the door, they would definitely know exactly what was happening. Eijiros flushed and wet face didn't help your case.

“Fuck! Going to cum. Dont, stop!” You moan as your body begins to contract. Eijiro nods against you and whines softly when you tug his hair. He grabs your hips and pressed them even closer to his face and your mouth goes open in a silent moan, and you tremble against him.

When you come down Eijiro doesn't seem to get the hint. In fact, with the added juices he seems to lap at your cunt even harder. “Enough Kirishima.”

He pulls away immediately at the command with a dazed look. Unknown liquids drip from his face and his eyes furrow. “Red,” He reminds and you roll your eyes with a smile, before bracing yourself on your elbows.

“Yeah, yeah. Red. Now tell me Red, do you want me to suck you off or do you want to fuck me?” He sits on his knees and thinks for a minute. You grab a tissue from his desk and lean forward to wipe his drenched mouth. He smiles wide, showing his pointy teeth and you laugh.

“Fuck me.” He sighs dreamily and you hold back a laugh. “I mean you. Fuck you. Not fuck you as in “Fuck you!” like I want to fu–”

“Okay yeah, I got it. Cmere.” He nods his head, ears burning red, and leans back over you. He kisses you again and you can taste yourself. He thrusts his tongue into your mouth with a moan. You feel his throbbing cock on your thigh, so you pull away and glance down.

It's huge. Red and throbbing. Drops of pre drip from it and onto your thigh. When you turn your gaze back to the man in front of you, you hold back a coo. You swear he is giving you puppy dog eyes. “Well? Put it in.”

“I can? For real now?” If he was a puppy, his tail would be wagging frantically. But he wasn't and you were getting impatient.

“Yeah, if you put it in before I dry up.”

“Sorry! Just excited!” You laugh as he lines up his cock, his face bright red. With one quick, but hard thrust, he is in and the two of you moan. His mouth grazes against yours and he looks at you with lidded eyes when he slowly begins to start moving his hips. Your legs wrap around his hips and he sighs.

“Mhmmm feels good,” he mumbles. You nod your head and his hips begin to go quicker and stronger. He pulls himself away from you to stand fully up. He grabs your hips and continues to ram his cock into you. “Been thinking about this forever,” He whines and your smile, and squeeze your eyes shut when he hits that spot.

“Yeah?” You say, knowing he already told you this earlier. It was cute though.

“Yeah! I-I kept thinking about it today. Oh god! Got distracted earlier.” He groans and presses a kiss to your leg. You grip the edge of the desk as your body continues to move up and down on the desk from the force of his thrusts.

You try to stay composed, but it's a lot harder now. “Aw, Pro-Hero couldn't stop thinking about fucking his assistant? You're so lewd, Red Riot. What would the fans think?” He whines and his blush flares at your teasing tone. He loves it. Loves how condescending and pitying you sound, it makes him feel dumb.

He flips you over and your eyes widen as your chest now touches the cool desk. He brings your hips back so that they fall over the edge of the desk and then pushes his body on top of yours, chest to your back. His much larger frame covers you completely as he rests his elbows on the table next to your head so he doesn't crush you. “Can't help it!” He finishes, acting like he didn't just switch positions so rapidly.

Lewd smacks and grunts fill the air and the two of you pant. Eijiro hasn't stopped talking, constantly chanting out praises and whines. His rough pace never slowed down and you have already came. His stamina was unbelievable, you barely could keep up with him.

“Oh no. No no no. I'm going to cum–Not yet! It can't end yet!” Even in your exhausted state, you laugh and then whine.

“S-So dramatic. We can go again love. A-And when you get back from your missions!” The last part comes out shaky and your eyes slightly roll back.

Either from your words or his upcoming orgasm, he was going even faster. “Will you reward me every time? Please, please, please! I'll continue being good, I promise!” He flips you over and you are looking back into his eyes. Desperation leaks from his face, for whatever reason afraid of you saying no.

You shakily reach a handout cup on his cheek, and he leans into your palm immediately. Sweat and lose tears fall from his face and onto yours. “Of course. Now, be good and cum for me, Red.”

He nods his head rapidly and whines into your neck. “I'm cumming. Thank you! Thank you! Oh fuck.” His hips stutter and he cums in you with one last high-pitched moan.

The hero half collapses on you, now only one arm to brace himself up. You pet his head affectionately.

He turns to you, eyes half-lidded and grinning with an after-sex glow. “Round two?”

There is a knock at the door and the two of you freeze. “Mr. Red Riot, you have a meeting in five minutes. Oh and if you see Ms. L/N, please let me know!”

He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes again. “Do I have to go?” He whispers into your neck and you laugh, before pushing his sweaty body off of you.

“Go, you horny bastard.”

“Will I get another reward if I do?” He grins and you pinch the bridge of your nose. He doesn't leave until you agree.

[mew-ya]

unfinished katakuri x reader in my drafts, should I finish it??

--

A special occasion for the two of you, and on a typical night, you’d have a nice dinner or watch a film. But this night? You decided to do something a little crazy.

You’d promised Katakuri a night he’d remember, punctuated with the promise of fresh, kitchen-baked donuts. But what you didn’t tell him…

You looked in the mirror as you tightened the apron around your waist, squishing your chest and emphasizing the curves in your form. Perfect, you thought to yourself, with a light-hearted air. You chuckled, embarrassed by your own boldness. But you wanted to do something special for your favorite donut lover—why not try something different?

You heard the front door open and close, quietly as you’ve come to realize is characteristic of him. Despite his stature, he’s a gentle man. You called out to him.

“Kata, that you? Could you come sit down in the kitchen?”

“…Yes.”

You scampered away into the restroom to check your appearance and build some anticipation. One last check in the mirror and you’re feeling pretty embarrassed—but you know how he feels about you. He’ll be happy even if I feel silly.

Walking as quietly into the kitchen as you can, you attempted to look sexy with a funny walk to accentuate your features. But the second you saw his face, it was clear to you that he already knew about the surprise. His face was red and he was uncomfortably balling his fists, and to top it all off, he was intentionally looking away from you. He used future sight.

Katakuri's exceptional ability was a double edged sword. His self-restraint was unparalleled, but he was an absolute criminal when it came to spoiling surprises. His future sight was an extension of his being—it’s not something he often thought to turn off. So it frustrated you sometimes because he’d fuck up your timing…but in the end, you got the result you wanted. A beet red lover set to panic mode at the vision of your body in just a baking apron.

You kept your cool and moved toward him, swaying and calling his name sweetly.

“My dear Kata…” you called out.

He swallowed and slowly turned his head toward you. Such an adorably awkward man…

You crawled up to sit upon his lap, making sure to brush against his body in all the right ways. He swallowed again, looking at your face just inches away.

“Are you ready?”

“…For what?” Katakuri asked, but he licked his lips in anticipation. He placed his hand on your waist, wrapping his fingers entirely around you.

“For me to bake you some donuts, silly!” You backed up, loosening his grip on your waist. “No touching yet.”

[the-fiction-witch]

Chats

Media - House Of The Dragon AU Character - Gwayne Hightower Couple - Gwayne X Reader Reader - Y/n (GF) Rating - 18+ Masturbating/ Sexting/ nudity Word Count - 2364

Gwayne lay down on the bed inside the guest room, letting out a sigh after a long day of dealing with his sister and the general chaos of the family having gathered under one roof. He didn’t really want to be involved in it all even just after two days of it he was already ready to pack his things into his car and scamper under the cover of night. But he knew he had to stay, he’d never near the end of it if he didn’t.

He pulled out his phone, the first time since arriving he’d even had the chance to look at it. And he saw one new message -

Y/n (Darling 💜) -

“Hey, how's Kings Landing?”

Gwayne (Hubby 💚) -

“It’s wonderful. So happy to be home 🫠 I swear to god it gets worse every time I visit, I’m surprised no one killed each other over dinner.”

“Aww yeah that does sound awful, are you okay though Gwayne? No trouble?”

“No trouble. Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, 😘”

“But I can't even give you a cuddle and a kiss to make you feel better 😥”

“I miss cuddling with you and receiving your kisses. Your embrace always makes my worries and concerns melt away and I feel safe in your arms.”

“Awww 😘😘”

“Your kisses are my favourite things in the world. They always make my heart flutter. I love you. 💋💖💞❤️‍🔥”

“Aww love you too Gwayne, 🥰💕 I'm sure it won't be too long till you can come home to Oldtown”

“Yes, although it's only been two days since I left Oldtown, it feels like a very long time. I miss you, my love. I can't wait to come back to Oldtown and see you again. When I return, I'll give you the tightest hug I can give, and then cover your face and neck with countless kisses.”

“I'll hold you to that 😘, it is very lonely here all by myself, I miss you 😥 the bed is far too big without you”

“When I come back to Oldtown, the first thing I'll do is give you the biggest, tightest hug I can give, then I'll cover your face and neck in countless kisses, and then, I'll pull you onto our bed and hold you in my arms all night. I miss you too. My days are far too long without you. All I can look forward to is hugging you tightly and giving you many kisses. 😘💖💞❤️‍🔥”

“Just hold me? Or will you do other things in our bed to show me how much you missed me Gwayne? 😈”

“Oh, I'll definitely do other things, my love. I'll show you how much I missed you with more than just hugs in bed. 😈”

“Ooooh ☺️”

“Indeed. My lips, my hands and my tongue will show you just how much I missed you while I was at Kings Landing. 💋👅😋”

“I'm sure you will, you do have such skills in that area 😝😈😘”

“My skills in that area are even better when I miss you. And I've missed you an awful lot lately. 😈😘🥰❤️‍🔥💋”

“Perhaps I should be a little mean 😉☺️😈💕”

Y/n then sent a photo of her in their bedroom in her green silk nightie

“Perhaps you should. 😈😘”

Gwayne replies with a photo, showing him sitting on the bed, dressed only in his jeans, leaning back, with his hands holding his hair and biting his lip 😋

“Awww now your being mean 😭 how can you show me that and not let me cuddle up and lay in my favourite spot 😭”

“Oh, we'll definitely cuddle up and lay in your favourite spot when I get back to Oldtown, my love. 😋🥰😘❤️‍🔥 And I'll kiss your hair and neck and face and give you many hugs and kisses, I promise. I'll love you all night. But, I will admit that being this far away from you is making me quite playful and naughty in our texts. 😈😘”

“I can tell 💜 naughty boy 😈”

“Oh, it's not my fault. You bring out the naughty in me, my love. 🥰😈😘 You make me want to be playful and frisky with you. 😈😋❤️‍🔥 And it's not my fault that I know you love it when I act naughty. 😏😘”

“Did you want me to stop? 😝”

Y/n sends another photo this one her nightie is tight against her body revealing her every curve and lack of bra, biting her lips as she wears his favourite purple lipstick

“Oh, please don't stop, my love. 😈😘”

Gwayne can't help but let out a little moan when he sees the new photo. He leans back and lets out a loud sigh, before replying with a photo this one showing Gwayne's lower body as he lies on his back, his jeans now pulled down a little, revealing his V and stomach,

“Oohh Gwayne 😘😘 didn't realise you missed me that badly 😉 what's going on in that lovely picture then? 💜”

“Oh, I can't help it. Seeing you in your lovely photos is making me miss you awfully. 😍😘😏”

“Awww you poor thing 😘😘😘”

“Yes. Without you, I'm in quite a desperate state, my love. 🥺😘💜”

The response is a photo of Gwayne's face with an exaggerated pout. A small drop of drool at the corner of his mouth

“Awww your drooling over me darling 💜 my poor desperate Gwayne all lovely and hard without his lady 😘😘 This you - 🤤😍”

Y/n then sent a picture of her blowing him a kiss with only he hands concealing her from the waist up,

Gwayne has to take several deep breaths before he replies to her latest photo. He bites his lower lip hard

“Oh, my love. Your photos are going to be the end of me. 💜💜😘”

Another photo follows, this one showing his lower body again, his jeans pulled down a little more, with one hand clearly inside them

“Oooh busy boy I see 😘👋”

“Well, I'm quite helpless to not be a naughty boy when I see your lovely photos. I can't exactly keep my hands to myself, now can I? 😈😘💜”

The photo he replies with shows his torso and head. His lower lip is very red from how hard he is biting it, there's a soft flush to his face, and his hair is now messy and dishevelled

“Can I see? 🥺 You know how much I love watching you play with it 😍😘”

“Of course you can, my love. How can I say no to you? ☺️💜😘”

A video follows, starting with Gwayne's face, looking at her while biting his lip, with a clear look of intense, barely contained need on his face. Slowly, the camera pans out and down his body, until it reached his lower body, and shows his hand in his jeans The camera then moves again, this time showing his hand moving and his lower body arching up from the bed, until he lets out an intense little gasp and his muscles contract, followed by him letting out a long, low moan

“Ooohh Gwayne darling 😘😘😘💕 i should have known you missed be that badly my poor poor darling so desperate without me 💜🍆”

“Ohhh, yes. I'm very desperate without you, my love. 😣💜😘 Gods, I need you right now. 💜💜💜”

Y/n sends a video of her own she blows him a kiss and then pulls back her hands letting him see her bare breasts

“This what you miss so much darling 😘😘🍼”

“Oh oh oh 🤤😍💜💜💜”

After watching it, Gwayne is completely lost for a moment, his mind clouded. It takes a while before he responds, and all he can write, is an incoherent jumble of letters, clearly typed one-handed

“My love. I'm so sorry for my incoherent message just now. I just couldn't type anything after seeing you in that video. You're too damned gorgeous. 💜💜🔥🔥🔥”

“Awww 😘😘😘 my poor Gwayne all lonely and desperate 😭 but we both know why you were only typing one-handed 👋 the other ones busy isn't it? 🍆”

“Oh gods. Yes. Yes it is. 😘😘😈💜🍆 I miss you so much, my love. I need you so badly.”

“My poor darling 😘 how about a little something to help you? 🍾”

Y/n then sends a little video as she pushes the nightie away completely and lets the camera see everything, she moves to start slowly rubbing on her slit and the video ends just as she softly moans his name

“Ohohohhoh. Ohhh gods. Yes. Please 😍💜🥰😘”

Gwayne is almost completely lost when he watches the video, and has to take a little time to recover, before he responds

“My love. That was absolutely wonderful, but it's made me need you even more now. You're amazing, my goddess 😍💜💜”

“If you send me a video I'll send you one too, if you hurry I'll let you watch me ⛲”

“Ohhh yes. I'll send it. I can't wait to see more of you 💜”

The video Gwayne sends starts with his face. He's flushed, his hair is a mess and there's a clear look of desperate need in his eyes. After letting her see his face, the camera then slowly travels down his body, until it reaches his lower body, and shows his hand busy with his hard cock,

“Awww my poor darling 😘😘”

She replies with her own video showing her thrusting her fingers inside herself,

“Ohh, my love. You're so good to me. 💜💜💜”

His own breathing is becoming erratic, and his hand picking up speed as he watch her video again, and again

she then sent a cute little picture of a small silicone toy on their bedsheets

“Can I? As your not here... Pretty please 🥺🥺😘”

“Oh, my love. You can do whatever you want. I don't mind one bit. As long as I can watch you do it, I'd be happy. 💜😘”

“😘💜”

Y/n sends the video, showing off everything, she first gives the toy a kiss and then moves it down her body and begins to work showing him everything form the perfect angle as she loudly moans his name

“Mmmmm ohhhhhh. You're so good to me, my love. 💜💜💜💜”

He can't take his eyes off the video, he's clearly completely lost as he watches her, and his hand is beginning to move faster, while he lets out some soft moans of his own, He watches the video a few times, his breathing becoming more deep and erratic while he does. After a few repeats of it, his free hand moves up to gently and desperately grip his hair, while his imagination is no doubt full of her, and his intense need and desire to be with her. Soon, he can't keep just watching the video on his phone anymore, he has to set it down, so he can use both hands while he still watches the screen. His body is visibly shaking with need, and his head thrown back a little bit

“Ohhhh my love. I need you so badly, my darling. My sweet, beautiful, perfect, incredible, gorgeous love. 💜💜💜💜😘”

He's so lost in this moment, his breathing is getting faster by the second, and he's biting his lower lip again, staring at her video on his screen, with intense, needy desire

“Aww my desperate darling, 😘 I need you too. Please let me watch you when you do it you know how I love seeing it 🍾”

“Oh yes, my love. You can watch me. I'd love nothing more than for you to see me like that. 💜😘❤️‍🔥😈”

He's completely lost, his eyes fixed on the little video she sent, as he moves a bit faster, watching himself on his phone while he looks at her video, thinking intently of her, and missing her so badly in this moment

Y/n sends another video much more fast and intense letting him see everything as she squeals and whines getting closer

“Ohohohh ohhhhhh. You're so good to me my love. You're so perfect. I need you so bad. 💜💜💜💜😘😘😘”

He's completely lost in the moment, his body trembling and quivering as he moves a bit faster, watching himself on his phone, while he looks at her video, his eyes fixed intently on it while his breath comes out in gasps, moans, and desperate sighs

she sent the next video and this on tipped him over, as she touched and used the toy which sent her screaming his name as she orgasmed,

“Ohohohhhhh mmmm ohhh gods. Oh, my love. 💜💜💜💜”

He lets out a string of words which are mostly her name, or things like "I love you", or "I need you" and "you're perfect". As he made sure to send over the video as he came across his stomach, His body is still shaking, and the sounds he's making would give the game away if anyone heard him, He takes a few moments to recover after the video, letting out a few soft gasps for air, and breathing heavily. He looks completely wrecked, utterly spent, but at the same time, still filled with need with want for her

Y/n sent him a picture of her utterly spent her toy beside her, a wet patch on their bed, and blowing him a kiss

He's completely stunned by the look on the picture, and he can't stop himself from moaning out loudly when he looks at it. He just stares at it for a while, before replying with a photo of his bare chest and stomach, as he lies on his bed. He's breathing heavy, and clearly still recovering from the moment, but she can tell he absolutely loves everything he sees

“Awww all messy 🍾🍾 and I'm not there to clean you up 🥺 however will my darling clean up without me 👅🫦”

“Oh my love, you have no idea how I want you here to clean me up. I can barely get off this bed to clean myself up without you. You're too good to me. 💜💜💜🔥😘😋”

“Ohh my love. You're too good to me. I need to find some way to reward you the moment I'm back home. 💜💜💜💜”

“And I don't have you to clean me up either 🥺 and my little toy is nothing compared to my sweet Gwayne 😘😘”

“You’re Sweet 😘 You really tried me out darling ❤️‍, I’m gonna get some sleep I’ll text you in the morning Okay?”

Y/n (Darling 💜) -

“Aww Okay, Goodnight Gwayne, love you 😘😘😘”

She sends over a cute photo of her cuddled in bed blowing him a kiss,

So he quickly sends one back to her,

Gwayne (Hubby 💚) -

“Goodnight Darling, Love you more 😘😘😘” 

[inkykeiji]

character: zayne genre: fluff! notes: wrote this as a teeny tiny comfort piece for myself!! deciding to share it here in the hopes that maybe it can bring some comfort to someone else, too! warnings: daddy kink without the kinkiness, reader takes medication and suffers from unspecified health issues, reader is female words: 880

Thinking about Daddy Zayne who is also Doctor Zayne, who is simultaneously and consistently both, the line between the two smudged and blurred and bleeding into one another as they infuse his soul, a caretaker in the purest, rawest form; who is rigidly meticulous when it comes to your health, especially your daily medications and vitamins.

He knows you sometimes forget to take your pills, sometimes forget if you’ve taken the correct amount, or which ones you have yet to take for the day—it’s okay, he understands, he tells you tenderly when he raises his concerns to you. It can be overwhelming, especially on the days where you’re feeling extra sick, where even the most basic of tasks feels impossibly monumental; he knows, sweetheart, he knows—and so, he resolves to do everything in his power to aid you. 

If there’s anything, anything at all that he can do to make your health just a teensy bit easier, he wants to do it.

The pill box he brings home one night is a pretty pastel pink, plastic embedded with silver sparkles that glitter brilliantly as he pulls it from his work satchel, tiny twinkles catching on fragments of light, streaming from the kitchen pot lights. 

“To help keep you organized,” he says softly, placing the container down on the island’s marble countertop, gently, as if he’s afraid it may shatter otherwise. 

“It’s super cute,” you say, gaze swapping between him and the box, a small smile on your lips. “Thank you, Daddy.” Dainty fingers skim along the days of the week, each one etched into the plastic in a bright fuchsia. “This was really thoughtful of you.”

“You like it?” he asks, hesitant hope tingeing the edges of his voice.

“I do.” 

“Good,” he roots around in his bag again, producing a hefty stack of glittery packets from the depths, each wrapped individually in thin shimmering plastic. “Because I saw these, and I just couldn’t resist—they reminded me of you too much.”

Splayed out across the countertop sits pages and pages of cute kittens, hearts, and stars, twinkling delicately up at you.

Blinking twice, your head tilts. “Stickers?”

“Mm,” Zayne hums, nodding. His fingers traverse the sheets, one by one, pensively. “I thought we could decorate the pill organizer together.” 

And, oh, the way your eyes absolutely shine, brilliant and beautiful as they search his face, makes all of the trepidation he had accumulated in his chest on his drive home so worth it. 

It melts away in your warm blaze, mollifies into something doughy and pleasant, something that fills his ribcage and stuffs his heart and he feels satisfied, he feels right, he feels whole.

“Really?” 

“Yes.”

“Now?”

A light chuckle falls from his lips, gaze gone syrupy as he traces along the curve of your cheek, eyes following his finger’s trajectory for a moment before they find your stare again. 

“Yes.” 

Your smile grows impossibly wider, impeccably brighter, a sweet little squeal of excitement sticking in your throat, and he can’t help but laugh again, holding out an arm in invitation as his other hand pats his thigh. 

Scampering over to him, he pulls you into his lap, one strong arm curled protectively around your waist as he holds you tightly to his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder. 

“Alright, princess,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose along your jaw, then planting a smattering of kisses behind your ear. “Which first? The hearts, the stars, or the kitties?”

Ninety minutes and two paper cuts later, your pretty pink pill box is finally finished, embellished with meticulously arranged stickers, each one placed just right—spread out perfectly from one another and organized in a way that makes it feel flawlessly balanced, each sticker methodically and systematically assorted with careful attention (a dire requirement, apparently, so you don’t end up with too many of one kind too close together!, you had told him). They glimmer in the low light of the kitchen as you tilt the box in your palms, one way, then the other, admiring yours and Daddy’s handiwork.

“It’s perfect,” you sigh, resting your cheek against Zayne’s. “We did a wonderful job.”

“It is, and we did,” he agrees, chest puffing a little against your back as his spine straightens, raising himself back to his proper height and pressing his lips to your temple, brushing along the throbbing veins in a gentle caress. His voice vibrates against your skin as he speaks, little tingles permeating your blood. “Now it’s time to let Daddy allocate and distribute your medication for the week.” 

A large hand taps the side of your thigh twice, a silent demand to get moving. 

“Come,” Zayne instructs as you both stand, taking one of your hands in his. “Help supervise and make sure Daddy puts everything in its proper spot.” 

He hopes this will help, even if it’s only a little. He hopes you’ll think of him, every morning when you’re popping open the corresponding little compartment, and he hopes it’ll make you smile, even if it’s nothing more than a slight quirk up of your lips.

If he can ease your pain, no matter how incremental the amount, then he’s doing his job. A start is a start, no matter how small. 

[underdark-dreams]

Not sure if anyone is still following this oneshot, but I ended up writing a second chapter. Turns out I couldn't stop thinking about giving them a happier ending. (Rated M now 👀)

Rolan x Fem!Tav (Unnamed)

Good Night For Company - ch. 2

Tags: Mild Angst, Sexual Content

Word Count: 4,794 [Read on AO3]

Rolan had spent many hours cursing his timidity that night. 

He’d lain sleepless at his camp as the sky lightened outside the Emerald Grove, replaying each moment in his mind. The look in her eye when she asked to kiss him—her hand tugging him toward her tent—the lovely way she collapsed against him when his lips found her soft neck.

He'd escaped the very fires of Avernus itself with his whole family miraculously alive and in tow. Yet confronted with the puzzle of her hands drawing him down to her bedroll, his mind had seized up in uncertainty. How much easier could she have made it for him?

Although, he allowed himself, he had made some sense that night. For one who daydreamed of her face as often as Rolan, the strain in her features was instantly noticeable by campfire light. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and shadowed with dark, tired circles. Even her skin seemed drained of its usual color. She needed a good night’s sleep more than anything.

But as they said their goodbyes that night outside his campsite, Rolan's hands still holding her shoulders, he could have sworn she wanted him just as badly as he did her.

Rolan shut his eyes with a groan—her face only swam behind his eyelids, that same invitation drawing him into her gaze. He pressed palms to his eye sockets until she burst apart into popping stars.

When he opened them, he was back in the torchlight of Last Light Inn and sitting in his grim new reality. There was empty silence on either side of him where Cal and Lia should have stood chattering.

Rolan dragged his tankard back towards him across the bar, until he peered down and saw the bottom.

"You two," he snapped at the little Tieflings behind the bar. The boys' conspiratorial giggles hushed immediately as they both looked at him. "Are you tending bar or not?" He waved his empty mug toward them.

"I don't know," Ide said, brows lowering in a skeptical line. Rolan tutted at him.

"It's not difficult. Bottle," he pointed at the open dry red behind the bar. "Cup," he continued, waving a hand in front of him. 

"Mistress Jaheira said not to over-pour," Umi piped up, clearly not knowing the term but understanding the sentiment behind it.

"Mistress Jaheira didn't save both your hides from the Shadow Curse, did she?" Rolan snapped. He badly needed another drink; unwelcome lucidity threatened to close in. "If it weren't for me, who knows whether you two would still be out there right now."

“Stop it, mister Rolan,” Ide insisted. Rolan was opening his mouth to chastise him before he caught sight of Umi’s lip trembling. 

The child was already a timid thing. Through the recent memories of too many kin lying on the road, Rolan recalled Asharak, the childrens’ fighting instructor from the Grove. He’d been cut down before their young eyes just days ago. Umi seemed especially affected by the loss. No doubt the man’s body still lay spread-eagle on the path up the hill; the urgency of survival had left no time to bury their dead.

Rolan gave a heavy sigh as he watched the child’s forlorn face. Yet again, he felt like a monster. “Go. I swear I’ll practice moderation. And if Jaheira asks, tell her I ordered you off.”

The two of them scampered away without a response, clearly eager to get away from Rolan at the first chance. If only he could escape his own unpleasant company just as easily. 

But that, Rolan reminded himself, was what all this wine was for. He lurched across the bar for the bottle and tipped the rest of its contents into his tankard. Its heat down his throat welcomed him back toward oblivion.

If he still lived, their errant paladin had everything to answer for. Whether he’d lost his senses to the curse or just lost his mind entirely, Rolan cursed Zevlor for the umpteenth time for fucking off with the cultists and landing him in this unwelcome position of authority. 

Rolan was no leader…at best a very, very uninspiring one. The yoke should have fallen to someone brave and selfless. Someone like broad-shouldered Ikaron. But Ikaron was now another empty body lying along the Risen Road, to be slowly consumed by the shadows.

Rolan knew he was no beacon of encouragement. He’d done his best to herd the other panicked survivors onward, however, using every last bit of evocation knowledge he had to keep them surrounded with light and flame.

He also knew it was sheer good fortune that saved them in the end. If they hadn’t found the sanctuary of Last Light Inn when they did, they’d all be shambling undead by now.

Yet somehow in the days since the ambush, he found all the children hovering around him with frightened eyes, asking him questions he barely knew the answers to himself. How were they going to save the ones who’d been taken by the cult?

Perhaps his unpleasant habit of ordering others about was finally coming around to bite him in the ass.

Nevertheless, Rolan felt vexed and inconvenienced by the unasked responsibility. Weren't his siblings enough of a weight on his shoulders already? Saving everyone would be a miracle; all he could privately hope for was Cal and Lia returned to him. 

If they’re still alive. Those were the thoughts that drove him to drink, and drink he did, tipping back the pewter vessel with abandon. In between bouts of liquor, however, Rolan’s mind was working as hard as it ever had. 

Cal and Lia would be at Moonrise Towers. No question. Moonrise was the headquarters of this insane Absolute cult, the one whose small patrol had butchered their numbers on the road. And a fortress of that size had to have a dungeon of some sort on the lower level. Why would they go through the trouble of taking them alive just to kill them? They must have plans for them all—ones Rolan tried not to imagine in detail.

He had to think of a way to slip through unnoticed—possibly by river, if the rumors he’d overheard from the Harpers were right. How far could he get on his own? Asking any of his fellows for help was out of the question. 

Rolan glanced across the common room at what pitiful few remained. Alfira sat near the open hearth, fingers going through the motions of tuning her lute strings. Her usually cheerful eyes were blank and distant. Rolan hadn’t heard her play a single note since Lakrissa had been taken with his siblings. He should have thought to comfort her, but that kind of gentleness never seemed to occur to him.

Rolan crossed his arms on the bar and dropped his horns to them. If only he’d thought faster, acted sooner, left the others to fend for themselves in order to grab hold of his brother and sister before their screams grew distant. His sharp nails dug into his palms as the sound replayed in his mind. 

He wished he had anyone besides himself to be angry at. He wished he could be angry at her.

If only she'd never taught Cal and Lia how to hope to fight back or be heroes. If only she'd never taught him how to hope…for anything, he decided. For any single single thing he might wish were possible.

Through his haze of drunken self-pity, his ears pricked at some kind of shouting and commotion out front. No doubt another attack by some new shadow-cursed horror. Rolan heard one of the little ones begin calling his name. 

"I’m coming, I’m coming,” Rolan spat, sliding petulantly to his feet as one hand reached for the quarterstaff leaning against the bar. “The damned hells is it this time?" He didn’t care what language the child might hear, but young Mattis was unphased.

“Stow your frown—” Mattis was grinning toothily. “Goblin killer finally made it!”

“What?” But the boy was already gone, bounding away from him through the front doors. Rolan swallowed dry against his fuzzy tongue. He felt fully awake for the first time in days, and he gripped the bar to steady himself before his feet stumbled forward.

Jaheira's enchanted vines were disentangling from her legs just as Rolan entered the courtyard. It was fortunate; he'd grown to respect Jaheira, and it would've been a shame to have to hex her. Rolan jostled through the gathered Harpers without a care in order to push closer. 

She and her companions had been waylaid just past the bridge. Harper Lassandra was relaying a report in her defense, it seemed, but all Rolan could concentrate on was her face.

Her cheeks were splattered with dark, shadow-magic blood. One of her sleeves was ripped open at the shoulder, displaying another patch of blood-stained skin at the seam of her leather jerkin. By the dark circles under her eyes, she still hadn't slept properly since the Grove.

She was the most beautiful thing Rolan had seen in weeks.

Her eyes came to rest on his own face then; he watched her blink hard, as if she might be dreaming.

"Rolan?" She croaked out softly. 

He had already half-closed the gap by the time she started toward him. They caught each other so hard Rolan felt the air leave his lungs in a huff, but he gathered whatever of her familiar scent he could, tinged with coppery blood though it was.

“I’m so glad you’re—I’m so glad,” she laughed shakily into his shoulder. Rolan wished he could kiss her, but it didn’t feel right in front of so many other eyes. He settled for standing back with his arms circled tight around her middle.

"Where's Lia and Cal?" She glanced around behind him, her smile fading. Rolan should have expected her constant concern for others by now, but could only look at her. Her eyes landed back on his face. "Zevlor?" She added quietly.

“Come inside.” Jaheira’s voice interrupted the silence between them. “We can talk over a drink.” 

As the druid directed forces back to their posts, Rolan felt her slip out from under his arms. She approached Gale to ask something—Rolan saw the wizard glance his direction before he replied.

“Come on,” she said, jogging back into his embrace. 

“What about Jaheira?”

“Gale can handle it, he’s good at talking.” She notched herself back firm against his side as they walked in. “I’d rather hear from you.”

Rolan tried his best not to stumble up the stairs beside her. He cursed his impulse to reach for the bottle at any sorrow—he must reek of it. If he did, she was kind enough not to say anything.

He led her to the empty room beside the cleric’s and shut the heavy door behind them.

“We were ambushed,” he said in a rush, before she could open her mouth. “Cal and Lia were grabbed up by those monsters on wings. Along with others. They’re being held at Moonrise.”

“We’ll find them.” Her voice was automatic and steely-certain. 

Rolan nodded, borrowing what strength he could from her eyes. “We will.”

“I thought…Zevlor was leading you,” she prompted him slowly, as if she might not want to know the answer. He only shook his head at her. How could he explain what he didn’t understand himself?

“We took the same path here that you did,” she admitted to him. Rolan knew what she was saying. He remembered each and every blank, upturned face that shrank to a pinpoint in the darkness as he led the survivors away. 

“I’m so sorry, Rolan.” His numbness was broken by her two hands rising to hold his face. “I just—I’m so fucking sorry—”

For some reason, his grief felt more real than it had yet. Rolan looked down at her bloodstained face and folded his fingers around one of her wrists. It would be idiotic to cry in front of her, so he kissed her instead.

His lips shook against hers, from sorrow and from want in equal measure. Rolan didn’t want to think about his dead friends, or his family waiting for rescue in a dark dungeon—just for a moment, he wished he could lose himself in her. She was the one person he could let himself unravel with.

“Rolan, wait—” But she didn’t want him to wait. Rolan heard it in her breathless voice against his lips, felt it in the way her hands clutched at his clothing to pull him closer.

He knew she must taste the alcohol on his breath. Hadn’t he said something to her that night in her tent? Something about wine and sex being a bad mix.

Foolish words of a foolish man who still thought he'd have time to do things properly. Rolan couldn’t remember them, and right now, this seemed like the best thing that could ever happen in such a desolate place. 

Was it so wrong to want her? Even now, with the rest of his life crumbling around him? 

Only his very real feelings for her could have broken through the haze. With a lurch of effort, Rolan stumbled back from her. The four walls of their room pressed in unbearably quiet without the sounds of hands and lips filling the air. Her eyes shone dark to him in the candlelight, pupils blown wide in a way that his deepest instincts recognized with primal satisfaction. He was certain his eyes blazed with just as much desire. 

Rolan licked his lips, gathering his last shreds of control. “Tell me to go,” he rasped. “Say it, and I will.”

He was rooted to the spot to await her judgment. She was silent before him, only a soft pant from between her lips. Rolan stood there for what felt like an agonizing eternity as her eyes traveled over his face. 

So slowly it felt like a dream, she raised one arm across to her opposite shoulder. The gesture made no sense to him at first. Until Rolan heard buckles clicking and watched the plates of her leather armor shed from her chest like scales to the floorboards.

Her tunic was next, and before Rolan could ready himself it was up over her head and thrown on top of her armor, her bare breasts covered only by a few stray wisps of her hair. 

He swayed where he stood, lightheaded; her darkly shining eyes didn’t break from his for a moment, even as her hands were already moving to the fastenings of her belt.

Rolan felt an ache like loss. Those should be his hands—gently undressing her, taking his time as he slowly unveiled each new and beautiful expanse of her flesh—not the two of them rushing through this first moment of newness that they’d never get back. Because even as the thought occurred, he himself was ripping his own robes off his shoulders without a care for the state of them. They would have time enough some other night.

She was faster, already kicking her pants off her bare feet. She wore nothing underneath—the realization brought a groan from his throat. Once his last garments dropped forgotten to the floor, she practically pounced.

Rolan had just enough reflex to catch her as she threw her body against his. Her bare skin on his was electric, filling his mind with wild want even as he tried to take in every sensation at once. Her taut breasts pressed against his chest—fingers lovingly exploring the ridges on his shoulders and back—the heat between her legs barely grazing against his thigh, yet enough to send his mind reeling. She made him feel real again.

And her lips—how could he have already forgotten how sweet she tasted? He kissed her back with hunger, wishing he might dissolve into her soft warmth for good.

Rolan wasn’t as strong as he wished, and he was tipsy as all hells, but he did his best as he guided their bodies down on top of their clothing. Her hips and shoulders thumped under his weight against the wood boards. Surely it must have hurt her—but then he felt her legs cross behind his bare flanks, rutting their hips together, and every other concern was lost.

Slick wetness pressed against his pelvis as she rolled herself against him. The proof of how much she wanted him, if Rolan had any lingering doubts. He fell braced on his forearms around her.

“I missed you so much,” she gasped against his lips. Rolan paused everything as his eyes opened to meet hers, almost too close to focus. “Rolan, I wish we—I should have—” Her face shone with more yearning than he could bear.

"I know, dearest, I know—" The endearment fell with shocking ease from his lips. Though he might share them, tonight was not for regrets. There were enough of those going around to last a lifetime. 

Rolan stopped them with his mouth, licking and tasting her as deeply as she would let him, one hand splaying under her thigh to angle her hips deeper against his own. 

With anyone else, Rolan might have felt self-conscious about how hard he’d been since the moment she undressed for him. With her, what would be the point? She'd confessed more with her body and her words than he'd ever expected.

His ridged length pressed between them, his underside slickening with each rocking motion she made against him. He broke from her slightly.

"Tell me." The words came out husky. Rolan didn't mean them to tease her, only wanted her to direct him, but the way she squirmed under him was addictive.

"I want you," she breathed, and he felt fingers clasp behind his neck. "Please, Rolan—"

How could he deny her anything? Rolan grabbed himself to guide and nudge his tip to her folds, spreading her wetness along his length best he could. She deserved so much better than a hard floor in the middle of nowhere. But everything felt too urgent, like they were at the edge of the world’s end. And her face held nothing but eagerness as she watched him.

Gently, slowly, he guided himself just inside her. She was perfect; Rolan's head dropped to her chest as he exhaled with a shudder.

"Oh—" She only let out the little gasp, but her hands hooked under his ears, tilting his head back up so she could press lips to his forehead and eyelids. 

"More," she purred against him.

Reflexive, Rolan pushed into her to the hilt and let out a groan at how perfectly she gripped him. She hummed in satisfaction, her legs pressing tighter around his hips to hold him there.

It was somehow tender and frantic all at once. Rolan's hips rolled into her with increasing urgency, even as he cradled her face up toward his with both his forearms, wanting to watch each sensation play out over her face.

When he hit a new angle inside her, her fingers actually gripped one of his horns as her lips gasped open. It sent a shudder reverberating through his core.

"So good," she gasped. "You feel so perfect—"

He would do anything to keep it feeling that way for her. He ducked his mouth to her breast, sliding his tongue over one tight bud and sucking her into his mouth.

"Fuck, Rolan—" Her voice canted up a register, and he felt her walls tremble and grip around him with each thrust. Her fingers clutched sweetly at the ridges over his shoulder blades.

In the back of his mind Rolan wondered whether the whole inn could hear his name on her lips, but he wasn't sure he cared, wasn't sure he didn't fucking love the idea in fact.

Both of them were starved for it, and neither of them could last much longer. Rolan groaned something into the flesh of her breast, words lost to the way her body shook under him just as he unraveled all around her. He collapsed against her soft chest and held her tight with trembling arms.

—---

"What did you say before?" 

As he drifted back to reality, Rolan lifted his head from her to rest his chin on her stomach. "Hmm?" 

She was looking down at him with shy curiosity. "When you came," she said. He loved hearing words like that casually tumble from her. "You said something, I didn't recognize the language."

Rolan realized with some embarrassment that she was right. "I did, didn't I." He moved to press his lips along her abdomen, as if it might distract her from the topic. But she was far too stubborn for that.

"Going to tell me or not?" He felt his insides melt as she traced her thumb along the lines of one of his pointed ears.

Rolan regretted letting her in on that fact about Tiefling anatomy, and he told her so with a grumble. She only laughed and gave his ear point a teasing tug.

Rolan closed his eyes against the feeling instead. "It's Infernal," he admitted to her. He hadn't spoken the tongue in many years; the fact he remembered any was a surprise even to himself.

"Oh." She didn't sound put off, only curious. "What did it mean?"

He carefully considered how to answer. "There's…not a word in Common that directly translates." Rolan met her eyes as his lips brushed absently near her navel. "A feeling that cleanses like holy fire. 'Love of salvation.'"

She gazed down at him. "That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard," she whispered.

Rolan reached to smooth her hair across her forehead. "Is it? To be cleansed, you have to be corrupted first."

"Is that an offer?" she asked, a grin teasing at the corners of her mouth. “I mean, we’re all pretty corrupted around here. Don’t forget I’ve already got a worm in the head.”

Abruptly, she pushed herself seated upright; Rolan caught himself back against his knees.

"I’m an idiot," she gasped. “Rolan—that’s how I get to the Moonrise dungeons. This tadpole makes me a True Soul. I can walk right through the fucking front door!”

Anxiety gripped him as he watched the excitement unfold on her face. Rolan wasn't sure he could watch her willingly rush into a den of vipers. 

"I'm coming with you," he insisted, already knowing she would tell him no. She shook her head at him.

“I wish you could,” she told him, and he believed her. “You're not tadpoled, the guards would know. But I'll take as many of my companions as I can, I swear. We can do this," she added, gripping his forearm.

It was all too fast; Rolan caught her hand before she could rise. "Wait," he implored firmly. “Let me travel with you to the bridge, at least.”

That she agreed to. They dressed quickly—though Rolan couldn't resist grabbing her a few times to kiss what bare flesh was still exposed, absolutely adoring the way she melted under his hands and mouth each time.

When he and her party stood at the bridge to the Tower, Rolan regretted agreeing to this all over again. She only gave him a quick peck on the lips with the soft promise of more later, and headed down the walkway with her companions.

Rolan stayed back in the shadows to watch her speak with the guards. His heart pounded in his throat. There was a short exchange; even his sensitive ears couldn’t catch the words. But then the guards stood down, and she and her friends walked freely through the front doors of Moonrise Towers. He allowed himself to feel a sliver of hope.

Back at the Inn, Rolan paced around the hall for what felt like an eternity. Mol complained he was making her dizzy. In reality, it couldn't have been more than a few hours. 

When he heard the soft shout of the patrol below, Rolan rushed through the wide doors and down to the underground port.

Cal and Lia stood alive and well on the wooden docks. Her too, further down the line—she even caught his eye with a smile. Rolan could have laughed in relief, but the guards curtly ordered him back while the Harper on duty checked them over with Jaheira's bottled tadpole. 

Rolan deeply wished to aim a cantrip at the man's skull, but he clenched his fists to gather his last remaining shreds of patience.

When they were cleared, all of them dashed together. Rolan gripped Cal and Lia's heads with a hand each, holding them tight against him.

"You absolute fucking idiots—" Rolan was half scolding, half trying not to cry. "Don't you dare stick your necks out like that again, do you hear me?"

"I'll remember that the next time we get kidnapped by murderous lunatics," Lia's voice said into his shoulder, but she was squeezing his ribs tight.

"Sorry," was Cal's only meek response, and Rolan stifled the juvenile urge to rumple his little brother's hair. 

"Just get inside," Rolan said as he released them. "When was the last time you both ate?"

They both complained over his continued fussing, but each of them obeyed him in the end. The return of bickering and normality somehow eased a weight from Rolan's heart. 

As the Tieflings he knew and the deep gnomes he didn't all made their way up the stairs to the Inn, Rolan linked his arm around her waist beside him.

"I love you," he told her first, low so that only she could hear. Then—"thank you."

"Thank those lot up there," she told him, though he heard through the smile in her voice that she hadn't missed his confession. "They were ready to fight tooth and nail out of there. I just unlocked the bars."

In the dark Rolan placed a swift kiss on the crown of her head, and was rewarded by the feel of her cheek leaning sideways against his shoulder.

Last Light Inn still had an undeniable gloom to it, but it was lightened considerably by the reunions of friends and lovers. To Rolan's eye the hall seemed practically packed compared to a few hours earlier.

His siblings settled back at the bar, removed from the chatter at the hearth. Rolan watched them toast each other with two very well-earned pints. As they both launched into conflicting narratives of their adventure, Rolan felt a deep sense of ease soak into his bones.

"This one's fucking amazing, by the way—" Lia was gesturing her mug to the woman at Rolan's side. "Watched her cut down a Moonrise guard with one swing of a sword. You better have thanked her properly, Rolan," she added.

His sister was clever; Rolan strongly suspected she knew what she was doing. He decided to play dumb for the sake of the dear person beside him, whose cheeks he could practically feel burning from here.

"Believe me, I will," Rolan said. As he spoke, he drew her toward him again with an arm around her middle.

Cal was significantly slower on the uptake. "Eughh." He let out an amused noise of disgust. "Why don't you two just kiss each other alre—"

But Rolan's lips were already on hers, tilting her chin up and back with a hand so he could capture her mouth. His other arm wrapped her shoulders back against his chest, and he felt her fingers grip tight over his forearm. As they gently broke apart, the quiet lasted only for a second.

"Twelve pints at the Elfsong." Lia smacked the bar next to Cal. "That's it, you owe me."

"Taking bets on my fucking love life now?" Rolan began, his indignance slightly undercut by the fact that his love in question was shaking with laughter under his arm, both hands clasped over her face.

In the end, Rolan left his siblings to argue over the details. He was too overwhelmed with embarrassment and the desire to save her from any of the same.

As he drew her back up the stairs, Rolan felt her shoulders shaking with laughter again under his arm. He glanced sideways, wondering what had ruined the mood now.

“What?” he prompted her.

“Nothing, it’s just—” She was positively sparkling as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Can we use the bed this time?”

With a mortifying jolt, Rolan realized there was indeed a perfectly serviceable bed in the room where he’d unceremoniously taken her on the floor.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

“Plenty of time for that,” she agreed, biting her lip as she drew him with her hand. “Now come on.”

[riahollywood]

could I request something where it’s your time of month and you accidentally get blood on erling’s bedding and you’re scared he’ll be angry but he just wants to look after you? 🥹 ty x

warning: mentions of a toxic ex and blood!

you silently cursed to yourself as you were awoken by a sharp stabbing pain in your lower tummy. you could’ve only been asleep for a couple of hours after struggling to get off to sleep with the excruciating pains, but had eventually managed to drift off wrapped up in erling’s arms and clenching a hot water bottle to your body.

shifting your legs slightly to try and get comfy, you mumbled a quiet and frustrated ‘oh no’ to yourself as you felt the all too familiar wetness through to your pyjama shorts.

you managed to wriggle your way out of erling’s grip. he was in a deep slumber and hummed to himself before turning over. you breathed a sigh of relief, at least you didn’t have to deal with him.

you pulled back the sheets and scampered across to the en-suite after grabbing some fresh clothes to change into. you tried to be as quiet as possible to not awake erling but it was proving to be a difficult task as you ran the tap and flushed the toilet. you just hoped he was so tired out from training the previous day that he would still be snoring away.

you opened the en-suite door and your heart dropped when you saw erling sat up in bed, rubbing at his tired eyes.

“baby…” he spoke, a look of concern plastered across his face.

the light from the en-suite shone out into the bedroom and as you walked over to the bed you noticed a pool of blood on the white bed sheets.

you felt the heat rush to your cheeks. you had only been seeing each other for a few months. with you suffering from bad periods every month, erling had been nothing but an absolute sweetheart, buying you chocolate and ice cream, making sure you had a hot water bottle at all times and giving you extra cuddles. but a bad experience with an ex boyfriend had left you scarred after one evening you accidentally got blood on his shorts and he went crazy at you.

it was because of this that you stood there frozen, looking at the blood on erling’s crisp white bedding that probably cost hundreds. you felt your throat close up and tears prickling at your eyes.

he scooted forwards on the bed so he could reach out to you, dangerously close to the blood that he was seemingly unphased about as he reached a hand out.

you still couldn’t help but think the worst.

“sweetheart, come here.” he beconded you to come into his arms but you still stood frozen. had he not seen the blood?

“i’m so sorry… i… i didn’t realise…” you muttered out, glancing over to the crimson stain and bracing yourself for the shouting that you were sure was to come.

erling shook his head. here we go, you thought.

you were surpised by what he did next.

he got up off the bed and scooped you up into his arms before sitting back down onto the bed against the headboard, with you on his lap.

“are you okay? are you all sorted, do you need me to get you anything?” you searched his voice for sarcasm but it seemed he was being genuine. you were confused.

“i’m really sorry, i-i’ll replace the sheets.” you mustered out, a tear now slipping down your cheek.

“shh, darling stop saying sorry. you have nothing to apologise for.” he rested his forehead against yours to make sure you knew he really meant it.

“but… i’ve ruined your sheets .” you spoke softly, avoiding his gaze.

he used his finger to tilt your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“baby it’s just a bit of blood… these things happen, i can buy more sheets. all I’m concerned about is you and if you’re okay.”

your eyes lit up at his words.

“really?” you asked, sniffling as you tried to wipe away the few tears that had now fallen.

he took a moment to take in your reaction. “did you think I would be angry with you?”

you shrugged. “well… yeah.”

all he did was bring you in closer to his chest, tightening his grip around you.

“baby, i would never be mad at you for something like that… never.” he kissed the top of your head and you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, feeling relieved. he wondered if this had happened to you before, perhaps with an ex who had not been so nice about it. the thought made erling grip you even tighter as he peppered as few more kisses to your face.

he brushed those thoughts to the back of his head. you were safe with him, he would never shout at you or do anything to scare you. all he wanted to do was look after you.

“what do you say i run you a nice hot bubble bath, you relax, i’ll get us some clean sheets and then we have the biggest cuddles ever?”

- - -

send me a request here!

[storm-angel989]

Outside the Office Part Ten

Hi All! Trigger warning for Angel Dust. Enjoy!

We walked out of his office hand in hand, eliciting strange looks from the demons. Valentino snarled at one and he scampered away. 

“Hey, Val. Can you help with the lighting? I can’t get this quite right.” One of the demons across the stage called to us. 

“Then what the fuck do I pay you for?” Valentino growled. “Fucking amateurs!” 

I watched as he strode across the studio, pushing the demon aside as he fiddled with the light. 

“So, are you Val’s new conquest or what?” I heard a voice from behind me. 

I turned around and came face to face with the spider demon, the one on stage when I first stumbled into the studio. Tall and lanky, with two sets of arms and one black eye, one white, the demon flashed me a friendly grin. 

“The name is Angel Dust. And yours?”

I did my best to maintain composure. “Did you not hear Valentino? My name is Reader Morningstar. Princess of Hell.” 

His eyes went wide. “Definitely didn’t hear the last part. My apologies, your highness. I didn’t realize Lucifer had a daughter.”

I felt my face flush. I mean, he did have a point. If Lucifer was the king of hell, why was I considered a princess if my mother was only his sister? 

He didn’t seem to notice my conflict and instead reached out and gently ran a finger over a small spot on my face. “Ah. I see. Did he beat you too? Must be bad if you find Val to be a better choice. But I mean, we’ve all been there.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I just wanted to introduce myself. My dressing room is down the hall, second door on the left if you need a breather. This job is tough.” He paused. “Looks like Val is ready. Good luck, kid.” 

And with that he sashayed across the room, letting his pink, feather trimmed robe fall to the ground as he took his place on set. I made my way back to my chair, sitting down next to Valentino. Valentino glanced over to me and reached over, taking his hand in mine. 

I did as he asked, studying every aspect of the scene, searching for the pleasure he spoke so highly of. After a few moments of watching Angel Dust moan, I saw it. The glint in his eye wasn’t something that even the best actor could fake. Valentino was right- at least, in part. His actors did want to be here. I watched Valentino growl at his assistant and I wondered if it was possible, even a little, for him to be a bit nicer to his employees. The thought quickly left my mind. No, Valentino had made it clear about the terms of his contract. But what if, what if I treated them kindly? Would that have any effect on Valentino’s contract at all? I couldn’t imagine he would put in any sort of language on how others treated his employees and the bearing it would have on their agreement. Valentino was too smart to put in something that is so clearly outside of his control. 

On set, Angel screamed as his body released, spurting white hot liquid all over the face of his alleged captor. Next to me, Valentino’s grin shone across the studio. I could feel his power radiate as he stood up, making his way across the room. He inhaled his cigarette and leaned down, blowing hot red smoke into Angel’s face. 

Angel closed his eyes. “Thank you, Papi.” 

Valentino grinned and leaned forward, pressing his lips against Angels. I felt my stomach drop as anger and betrayal shot through me. I thought I was the only one he kissed? 

Around me, energy began to swirl. Blacks, reds, blues and purples radiated in a cloud as my emotions physically manifested. A burning desire, a rage I didn’t even know I had burned through me. It took every ounce of my self control to hold back from walking across the room and smacking Valentino across the face. How dare he? 

Valentino pulled away after a moment, leaving a bright red trail of saliva hanging from Angel’s mouth. He turned back to me and used his coat to wipe his mouth before returning to his seat. He reached for my hand and I jerked away. He turned to me and his expression changed to one of alarm.

“Clear the scene. I have something I need to handle in my office. I expect the next set to be up by the time I come back out,” he growled at his employees. 

The energy clouded around me, followed me as I followed him into the office, the door slamming behind me. 

“What was that? You just said you didn’t want anyone else in our private lives.” I snarled. Around me, the energy cracked like a lightening storm. 

I could see him trying to keep calm, to piece it together. “What are you talking about mi amor? Why are you so…angry?” 

I glared at him, keeping my distance. The part of me that wanted to hurt him, to make this feeling go away wasn’t nearly as strong as the need to make sure he wasn’t. “You kissed Angel. In front of me. In front of everyone here.” I spat. I could feel my body shaking, both from the emotional turmoil and the pain that was starting to creep back through my body. “I thought you loved me.” 

Valentino frowned and stepped forward as if to reach for me. I stepped back away from him, both out of fear of keeping control and my lack of desire to touch someone who would so blatantly behave so cruelly, and then have the nerve to act confused. Someone who told me he loved me and then threw it back in my face the next second. He stopped his advancement as he gave me my space. 

“Princessa. You misunderstand.” 

“Misunderstand what, Val? What don’t I understand? You. Kissed. Him.” The energy around me was black now, swirling and threatening to destroy everything around me. Inside I felt control start to slip, my desire to destroy everything around me growing with each passing second.

“Drugs, princessa. Drugs. I’m what Angel is addicted to. It’s part of his payment, his contract.” Valentino said shakily. “Please, let me explain.” 

The fear in his voice seemed to snap back my control. Valentino never showed fear.I felt the energy around me recede.  

“Explain, Val.” I demanded. 

“My saliva acts as a drug, and when I kiss someone and transfer it from my body to theirs, it produces a powerful high. I can control it, and Princessa I have never used it on you. I would never. Angel, one of the first souls I ever owned, is the only one who still has that payment requirement in his contract. A contract that, might I add, is one of the ones I tread most carefully around.” He exhaled. “Please. I love you. I’m sorry, I didn’t…I don’t think about it anymore. It’s been a routine, a given for so long.” 

He sounded sincere, the fear and concern flooded his features and his tone as he explained the situation. I felt the energy continue to recede alongside the feeling of anger. The more it vanished, the less foggy my brain became and I could focus on his words. 

“Does it have to be a kiss? Why not bottle it and give it to him? Or bottle it and sell it? That seems to align right with everything else you do.” I said, trying to ignore the pain that now tingled through my body. 

“I can’t, Princessa. I’ve tried. Once my salvia leaves my body for more than a few seconds, it changes from something that gives a high to a powerful aphrodisiac.” He took a step towards me. “Please, Princessa. I’m so sorry I made you feel this way.” 

At his words, the energy around me vanished completely. I fell into his arms and broke down in tears that I had struggled to keep inside for so long. The pain of my injuries, the anger, confusion and release of energy I didn’t know the origin of combined to create an internal storm. Valentino held me tightly as I bawled into his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt dampening. He didn’t offer soothing words, or soft assurances that it was okay. He simply held me, allowing me to cry in his hold. 

It wasn’t until I choked on my tears that he said something. 

“Let it out, babydoll. Don’t try to hold it in anymore. It’s okay. You’re safe.” He muttered gently, rubbing my back. “I’ve got you. Try to remember to breathe.”

“I’m sorry, I…”

“Shush. Cry. Let it out. I haven’t seen you break down once since this whole ordeal began. And you deserve that release, mi amor. There is no shame in tears.” His lips pressed to my cheek and he stroked my hair. 

When I had no more tears left, I lifted my head. He cupped my chin and looked into my eyes. “Do you feel better?”

I nodded. and he guided me back towards the desk, carefully lifting me up and setting me on top so my legs dangled over the side. He sat in the chair and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out a box of tissues and a package of baby wipes. 

“May I, Princessa? Your makeup is all smeared.” He said gently. “Will you let me take it off?”

I nodded and et out an anxious laugh that came out more like a cough. He raised an eyebrow. 

“Vel is going to be so pissed. She did such a nice job and I wrecked it. My father was right, tears are useless and destructive.”

The displeased expression on Valentino’s face told me exactly what he thought of my words. Without comment, he opened the package and gently ran it over my face. I closed my eyes and tried to exhale but it came out as a gurgle, and then a hiccup. And then another. And another. 

Valentino paused and tossed the wipe that held what was left of my makeup into the garbage. The rest of it, I realized, covered his shoulder, now stained with both tears and foundation. 

 I hiccuped again, holding my breath to try to make them stop. My father was right- crying was embarrassing, and the appearance of the hiccups only served to solidify his words so deeply ingrained in me. 

Wordlessly, Valentino again opened the drawer and came up with a black mug, standing up and going over to the fridge, taking out a bottle of water and pouring it into the mug, tossing the empty bottle. He put the mug into the microwave and fifteen seconds later, pulled it out and carried it over to me. He offered his hand and I slid down off the desk, standing next to him.

“It feels silly, but this cures hiccups every time. Bend at the waist, tilt your head up and drink this entire mug of warm water without stopping. When it’s completely empty you can straighten up, but not until then. It won’t work if you only drink half, or breathe between gulps. Got it?” 

I hiccuped in response. With his guidance, I followed his directions, bending over and swallowing down the water as quickly as I could without taking a breath. Once the mug was empty, I slowly stood back up straight and waited a few seconds. No hiccups. 

“Works every time.” Val said, kissing me on the head. “It’s a good trick to know when you spend your days dealing with emotions.” He guided my head to his chest and I laid against him, listening to his heart thunder under my ear. He stroked my hair. “Mi amor. You had every right to be angry, and I’m sorry I made you so upset. I should have warned you. It’s been so long that what I give Angel, I no longer think about. And I should have.” 

I felt his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. 

“Princessa, emotions are a normal part of life. Demons, by nature, are passionate. We feel things on a deeper level and it’s vital to express those feelings. Whatever your father taught you about holding your feelings inside needs to be tossed aside. You will break, mi amor, if you try to fight what is so natural to you. They will consume you.” 

He paused and allowed me to think. I focused on the pounding of his heart under me, the feeling of his hands against my back as I tried to make sense of his words. 

“I felt like I lost control. What happened to me, Val? Do you know?”

He kissed the top of my head. “Lucifer is the better one to ask, he knows far more than I do. But what I do know is that you are powerful by nature, Princessa. Your power will only grow as you acquire souls. But with that power, comes the necessary need for self control. That does not come from suppressing your emotions, not when you’re full or even half demon. That awareness, that ability to control yourself is born out of acknowledgment and honoring your emotions.” He paused. “Your explosion today took no one by surprise. Lucifer watched your reaction after you were so violently injured, he saw the sense of normalcy you felt towards it, how well you taught yourself to hide your true feelings, to hide the pain. He warned that that control you have spent so many years developing would eventually slip with just the right trigger.” He gave a small smile. “I suppose I should feel honored that your trigger was my lips against someone else.” He bent down and kissed me. 

I pressed into his kiss, the feeling of warmth spreading from my fingers to my toes. After a few moments, he pulled back and took a deep breath. 

“Princessa. I need you to know that until my contact with Angel is terminated, he will require that payment, among others. It’s a non- negotiable.” His expression turned unsure, fearful. “Unfortunately, his contract is different from all the others. It was my first, and the only way his contract ends is his ultimate destruction by means of an unrelated other.” 

“So, unless Angel dies in a way that is in no way shape or form related to you, you’re bound to him and he is bound to you?” I asked. 

He nodded. “Correct. There are other parts within his contract, parts I have stripped as I gained more power and experience.” He swallowed, a pained expression passing his features. “If you

want to walk away from this, from us, I understand. This job, this business, doesn’t collide well with the loving relationship you deserve.” 

I buried myself into him, taking a moment to collect my thoughts. “You said it’s just a job, your business, your requirement to survive and thrive down here. But what you do with Angel- is it more than that? Is there pleasure and love from you that I’d have share with him?” 

He sighed. “There is physical pleasure, derived solely from the releases that are required. But emotionally speaking? No. I don’t love Angel. That is reserved for you, and you alone.” 

“Then no. I’m not walking away. If I need to physically share you, fine.” I lowered my voice. “I just don’t want to share your love with anyone else.” 

I felt his grip tighten around me and he tilted my head up, pressing his lips to mine. “You will never. I promise. I love you, reader. My heart, my entire heart, belongs to you and you alone. ” 

“I love you too, Valentino.”

[the-ellia-west]

The Porcelain Girl

(My Symbolism-infused School assignment Short Story)

It's about failure, success, isolation, and the torture of artists, failure, and imitation

Gold Represents Success, Silver Represents failure, yada yada

(Tis very long, read at your own risk)

PLEASE COMMENT OR RB WITH YOUR OPINION, I NEED TO TURN THIS IN ON MONDAY

The first thing I knew was the golden sunlight filtering in through the keyhole. When I stepped out of my small cabinet, my new world seemed a wonder beyond comprehension. Within walls too big for my eyes and voices through the halls I had to run to reach the end of. It took me days to explore the castle. I could sit on window sills and hide from the metallic footsteps of the Courtiers. I didn’t know how I knew their titles, but I did know I had to be careful. The Castle paved in stone, the courtiers plated in shining metal, they were glorious sights to behold. 

I was different.

Days and days passed, turning over to weeks, then months, and I began to know my castle and its contents. Men reveled in gold, where trash became the only home for silver. I would spend my days sitting in the window, looking out at the world beyond my gilded walls. But I loved one thing most of all. The king, the one who owned the palace, the only one entirely of gold, with no silver spots about him. He would speak to his servants as if they were free, and the Courtiers would imitate him down to his very smile. 

But I was no different in that regard. I longed to be like him, looked up to instead of crushed underfoot. But he was made of gold, and I was nothing more than mud. I had beauty, true, but I was still only clay with a painted face.

However, one day, while I was gazing from the window, pondering everything but my purpose, I spotted something. A crown, upon a scarlet pillow, displayed on a marble pedestal at the right hand of the King, gleaming in the summer sunset. The same color as the dandelions plucked from the gardens or the reflection of lanterns in a Courtier’s eyes. It called the name I didn’t have. 

I needed to see it up close. So against my better judgement, I lowered myself from the window and rushed to the ballroom to catch a glimpse of it. But as I reached the room, its sheer size made me forget where I stood.

Courtiers and servants at the left and right, carrying bronze platters and golden flowers, a room so bright it hurt my eyes. Beautiful to the point of gaudiness. Feet moved to the rhythm of something the King later called music, and fabric danced around the ankles of golden women. I stumbled away and scampered through the squirming crowd, avoiding being crushed beneath shoes or knocked over by flailing limbs. Because even then. I somehow knew I was in danger of being broken.

I was jostled, belittled, and ignored. Until I saw it again. The Crown stood above my head so far I was almost sure it brushed the clouds’ silver lining. But its beauty entranced me, making me forget for a moment the scratches in my paint from the violent thoughtlessness of the Courtiers. I wanted to touch it, just to know if it was real. So I stepped up onto the carved stone, hooking my smooth glass fingers into the dents and chipped columns. 

“Girl.” 

I stopped at once. I knew it was the King without turning. My grip on the stone loosened and I answered, “Yes, your Majesty?”

“What are you doing?” his voice was gentle but firm.

“I wished to see the crown.”

“Why? You are made of clay and glass. You are safer on the ground. You know that. You will never reach the top. It is better for you to stay away from danger.” 

I knew he was right, and even though I desperately wanted to reach the crown, I didn’t know if I could. 

“Please come down.”

But I didn’t. I gripped the stone and tried to pull myself up. But with his words in my head, my hold faltered, I felt a brief rush of air and the sensation of falling, before I hit the ground with a shatter. I only remember fragments. 

The King ordered me taken to the forges to be repaired. One of the Courtiers, shoulder plates of gleaming silver volunteered to collect my pieces and carry me. I was stitched back together in blue fire and the same silver of the Courtier, marking the cracks in my perfection. 

I stayed in my cabinet, tracing the cracks in my body with my fingers, too ashamed by my failure to allow myself to be seen. Until with the setting sun and the pearlecant shine of the moon, a voice whispered to me on the wind.

“What are you waiting for, girl? Why the tears?”

I looked for it’s source, but when I found nothing, I simply whispered back, “I failed.”

“You can’t hide forever just because of one failure. You are a treasure. If anything, your new metal shine makes you more beautiful.”

“But I am imperfect.”

“And so is even the most beautiful of flowers. Don’t let it keep you down, love.”

I tried to ask the voice what that meant, but it refused to answer. Eventually, I took it’s strange words and returned to the halls. For days, I followed the King’s advice, for I had come to fear the Courtiers and Servants once more. But at same time, they drew my eye. Every time I thought to speak to them, I remembered my imperfection, and I was afraid. But my fear could not keep me from the crown forever. The next time I saw it, the King had shed it from his head, and again, it stole my breath with it’s beauty. Silver cracks across my hands the color of the tools used by the Courtiers I feared, could not deter me any longer and I set out for the room. Their golden visage seemed taller as their glinting eyes watched my quiet steps. I shrank in on myself, saying nothing and hoping they would just forget I existed.

“The girl made of glass.”

“But she’s covered in Silver.”

“Why is she here?”

Silver. What I was and what they saw. I was a walking second place medal. I started to wonder if I should have just stayed in my cabinet. But a small whisper in the distance startled my attention away from the Courtier’s rumors. 

“You can do this.”

I stopped, catching my breath as I spotted the man who had brought me to the forge. Shackles of pearly silver weighing him down. But he managed a smile when he saw me. And that gave me hope. I could do this. I would climb up there, touch that crown, and I would prove to the king that I was something he could be proud of. 

So I gritted my teeth, and began my climb. The voices cut into the cracks in my clay flesh, as they whispered and muttered. But once more, the King saw me. He warned me to descend. But I refused. Until a Servant nudged the pedestal with his arm and I lost my grip.

I reawoke in my Cabinet once again.

“Wake up. Do not give in to fear. When you are ready, you can do this.” 

I ventured into the hallway to see myself in the curved glass of the clock. More silver filled the places where I had broken. But the whisper brought a warm breeze to comfort me.

“You are resilient. That is commendable. You are worth so much more than you know. Nobody is perfect on the first try.”

Though my failure discouraged me, I wanted to see the crown more than ever. And so I waited until the news of the next Ball.

When the doors opened, I wove between the feet of the golden Courtiers, glittering like the sun in the flicker of the evening lanterns. Without hesitation, I began to climb. 

This time, I would reach the crown. I knew it. The Courtiers noticed me halfway. They began their whispers, but I held on tight. It was a long, difficult task, but I kept going. Until he saw me. 

“Foolish girl!” His voice thundered across the room, shaking me as I reached for the top. “It is worthless to try getting you to see sense! You are made of clay and silver, you were not made for this! You are brittle and broken. This is the last time you will disobey me!”

With those words, the king plucked me from the pedestal. I lost my grip, and I fell. This time I hadn’t shattered. But I had still broken. He told the Servants to repair me and then lock me away. 

“This is for your good, Porcelain Girl. You discard your fragility too often. You will not break again.”

In a blur of hours and days, I was repaired, and locked in the dark of the castle’s dungeons. The Silver ran through my eyes and darkened my hair. Shackles the color of moonlight weighed my hands and feet. Though they were too loose to restrain me, I leaned against the bars, and waited to die. If I could not please him, I had no purpose. The Courtier with the silver shoulders came to visit me once. But I ignored him. He returned the next day and played me a song.

I told him to leave.

But one day, the Spirit returned, “You have given up. Why?”

“I have failed too many times.” I said, hoping he would go.

“A failure is not a curse.”

“But I am broken.” I told him. “And I cannot be fixed.”

“Even your king and his brilliant crown have a blemish or two. Gold is a soft metal.”

“Nevertheless. I am worthless. Even if you are right, they will never want me. I will fail again and again. I will never please them. I am only made of clay.”

“You are so much more than that crown or that king, or those courtiers. You are something new, and no one is ever used to something new. You have one person, don’t you? That Courtier still believes in you.”

I hesitated, considering his words. He was right, annoyingly enough. That Courtier did care about me. For some reason. And The Spirit himself seemed to as well. 

But as I looked down at my chains, I noticed something. Little silver flakes and wires. I slipped out of them easily, for they were too large for my hands, scooping the little scraps into my arms. I left the cell, and went to the courtyard, where the Silver-shouldered Courtier watched the sunrise. 

And as the golden rays lit up the castle, I saw myself in a small puddle, and for a moment, my Silver seemed the very same color as the light itself. 

Then I got an idea. I began to weave the wires into a small circlet, just large enough for my head. The Courtier spotted me, and he smiled, offering me a small golden ring. I accepted, and he helped me to weave my masterpiece. And for the first time, I loved that I was made of Clay. Knowing we were perfect just the way we were, our failures making us better for the future.

“I like it. Reminds me of you.” He smiled, and I smiled back as we faced the glory of the sun. The Spirit brushed my hair with a warm breeze and I held the circlet up to the light. 

It wasn’t the crown of a king, and it was far from perfect, but it was mine.

@supercimi @nczaversnick @homelessnerd @i-do-anything-but-write @sunflowerrosy

@artsandstoriesandstuff @soggt-frn

[wobblesthecowgirl]

I'm No O’Driscoll!

Chapter Three: Arthur's Doubts

Tags: Arthur Morgan x Femreader, enemies to lovers, O'Driscoll reader, game plot, Arthur doesn't have tuberculosis, eventual smut, age difference, 18+, mild gore

Word Count: 975

A/N: Sorry for a short chapter! Next chapter is going to be a long one...Lenny, Arthur, and Reader get drunk in Valantine! Comment how you want that to go! I've also changed the layout to see which is preferred.

Chapter One

Chapter Four

Arthur was starting to have doubts about letting both O’Driscoll’s join the gang. On the ride back to camp, he couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of them gunning down those there. Especially her. Where did she learn to shoot like that? She’s too quick.

Luckily, when he arrived, the place was calm and peaceful…or as peaceful as it could be. He scanned for the new members: Kieran was getting some soup from a not so happy Pearson, and then he finally saw her. It was clear the first thing she did as a free woman was have a wash and brush her hair.

Arthur couldn’t deny that she was definitely pretty, but her sour attitude, O’Driscoll past, and constant scowl made him hate her so much that he could look past how beautiful she was. However, when he watched from afar, he saw how she interacted with Mary-Beth: Her eyes were soft, her mouth curled up slightly at the corners, and she was even laughing lightly at times.

For some reason, this only annoyed him further. He strode over towards the two women who were sat on a blanket, looking up at him.

“You behavin’ yourself?” He asked, and there it was. Her famous scowl.

“You’re not going to give me a minute’s peace, are you?”

Now that he was closer, he could see had to look through her long lashes, and she had a small scar along her neck like Javier. Mary-Beth coughed.

“Is there something you need, Arthur?”

He shook his head, “Oh no, I was just making sure our new friend wasn’t giving you any trouble. God knows she gives it out a lot.” The woman shook her head to disagree, putting her book down.

“Not at all! She’s actually pleasant company.”

It was Y/n’s turn to talk, “I’m right here. Which, for your information, I’m a delight when I actually like the person. But, for a strange reason, I don’t like big dumb grunts who shoot me!”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Give it a rest woman. You’re gonna have to get over that one day.”

The wind picked up slightly, making Y/n’s hair flow a little, and he was looking a bit too intently by accident. Mary-Beth stood up suddenly, causing the other two to turn to her. She excused herself, explaining she had chores to attend to, and scampered off. Arthur and Y/n stayed in awkward silence for a few seconds before she finally spoke up.

“Are you going to stand there or say something?”

He narrowed his eyes, staying stood because sitting next to her seemed too friendly, but the awkward pose of her sat looking up at him while he stood above her was just as bad.

“I’m just here to warn you that if you try anything- “

“Oh, give it a rest old man,” She spat as his eyes widened.

“Old man? You gotta be kidding, old man?”

Y/n laughed, tilting her head back slightly at his response. She stood up, dusting off her jeans. Despite being stood up now, she still had to look up. Tiny thing, she is. He asked, “And how old are you exactly?”

“Why? You interested?” She teased… flirted? He couldn’t tell, but he didn’t like either option.

He scowled at her, “Don’t be so cocky, girl. I’m askin’ ‘cos you’re acting like I’m as old as Hosea.”

“I’m in my early twenties, that’s all you’re getting.” She informed him, and for some reason, his stomach dropped. Arthur should’ve guessed she was young, she didn’t look older than thirty, but it still shocked him. Then she asked the same question. He chuckled lightly, looking away from her.

“I’m in my mid-thirties, old enough to be your Daddy.”

“Well, you don’t look a day over fifty.” She smiled sickly, enjoying tormenting the older man.

“Real mature of you.” He scoffed, before turning around without a goodbye. He couldn’t stand talking to her much longer; every single sentence she threw his way only jabbed him more and more, which would cause him to snap eventually. He found himself at Dutch’s tent, who was sat smoking a cigar and lost in thought. When he saw Arthur, his face lit up.

“Arthur! And to what do I owe the pleasure?” He took another puff.

“I just came to talk to you about that O’Driscoll girl.”

Dutch sat up straight, concern on his face, “Is she causing trouble?”

“Not exactly,” He rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s about her aim. When we were at Six Point, I was about to get shot, but she saved me. Put a bullet right between the man’s eyebrows. In seconds. That ain’t normal.”

The music was blaring from inside the tent like it usually did at this time, and Arthur could hear the rest of the members shouting and laughing. It almost drowned Dutch out.

“Where are you going with this, son?” The leader asked. Arthur paused, rubbing his chin.

“My point is, I don’t think she’ll cause trouble, but keep an eye on the guns around here.”

Dutch leaned back into his chair, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

“Or, we could use her to our advantage.” He was already planning something, a new chess piece for his board. Arthur rose an eyebrow and asked, “What you plannin’?”

He nodded his head, thoughts and ideas running through his head, “We are going to get Sean back, having her behind the scenes could be very helpful. Especially in a place like Blackwater.”

“Dutch…” Arthur groaned, “I can’t trust her. She may’ve saved my life, but she probably did it to save her own hide.”

“Well then, sounds like you two need to do a little bonding.” Dutch smirked, taking the final huff of his cigar, as he continued to scheme; much to Arthur’s dismay.

[lou-struck]

Forgetting Something Pt 1

Part 1 Featuring: Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan

Part 2&3 coming soon!

-Your schedule in the Devidom is just so hectic, the others have to make sure you don’t forget about them.

Lucifer ~

He has been watching you scamper around the living room trying to pick up the contents of your upturned bookbag for the last five minutes with an amused smile on his face.

Although he understands that you have to head out to your study group with a few of your classmates from your Runes class, the Avatar of Pride is feeling rather…forgotten. 

In your haste to get out the door, you keep rushing past him muttering cutely under your breath about finding your misplaced textbook. It appears that you are so focused on your search you haven't even noticed the Demon is in the room with you.

His crimson gaze finds your book sitting neatly on the coffee table and he jumps at the chance to grab it. To help you… 

certainly not because this will get your attention.

“Mc? I believe this is what you are looking for.” He says grabbing your attention and holding up the book for you to see.

You blink and glance around the room sheepishly just now noticing he has been in the room with you the whole time.

Your fingers brush as you take it from him and shove it into your bag. Just as you are about to walk past him he clears his throat again. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Your brows furrow as you try to think of anything else you need for your group but can’t seem to think of what it is he is referring to. Slowly you shake your head and see the corners of his lips blossoming into a smirk.

Gently he slips his fingers under your chin and tilts it upwards. His lips find their rightful place on yours and he steals away your thoughts with a deep kiss.

When he pulls back and sees that look of admiration for him in your eyes he knows that you won’t be forgetting about him anytime soon.

Mammon~

He’s your first, isn’t he? If that’s true, why is it so hard to make plans with you? Just as he was about to sweep his cute little human off their feet and take them out on a Lucifer-funded date at Ristorante Six, he saw that your overnight bag was packed and ready by the front door. His frows furrow as he looks around to see where you are. Are you moving out without telling him? Is someone else trying to take you away on a romantic evening? He has to find you and get you to choose him. It's the hurried opening of cupboards in the kitchen that alerts him to your location. Following the noise, he sees that you are digging around in the kitchen where a few of the cookbooks are stored. “Where ya goin' Mc?” he pouts leaning against the doorway “Yer not leavin' me, are you?” You glance up from the pile of cookbooks and give him a sweet smile explaining that you are headed over to Purgatory Hall to bake some sweets with Luke. This makes his brow twitch in irritation. Even that Chihuahua has managed to steal away bits of your precious time. Time that should be spent with The Great Mammon. He has to stop you, he has to convince you that your time would be better spent with him. But when he sees the look of victory on your face when you finally find the missing cookbook, he knows that he’ll have to sweep you off your feet another day. Glancing down at your DDD you curse at the time and brush past him toward your overnight bag. “Hey, ain’t you forgettin’ somethin’?” he says coming up behind you, placing his hands on his hips and tilting his head to the side. You stop and turn around only to have your lips meet his. His greedy hands hold you close as you forget that you are running late. When you separate, Mammon's face is flushed a deep pink color. “I missed ya, mc, you know that?” he mumbles lifting your overnight bag and slinging it over one shoulder, and holding out his other hand to you. “Take my hand, and I’ll walk ya over there. But you gotta promise to spend some time with the Great Mammon when you come home.”

Leviathan~

Of course, you are too busy for Levi.

Why would you want to spend time with a gross Otaku like him?

His sardonic thoughts only make him retreat more into his shell of insecurity, at least his animes and video games are there for him when he misses you.

The other day on Akuzon, he found a dating sim where the main character looked like you and he was hooked. It was just so fun making the lead blush at something that he said. It’s almost as if he was taking you out on dates like a real normie couple.

But after a while, he realized that he doesn't want some cheap imitation, he needs to spend some time with the real you. 

For the first time in what seems like forever, he gets up from his gaming chair and goes to find you.

It’s not long until he sees you in the hallway. You look so perfect, so real. He knows he has to make a good impression on you to make up for lost time and to make sure you didn’t forget about him completely.

His legs seem to move on their own as he approaches you. And all of a sudden he feels like he’s in the game again. The bit of confidence that he has makes him think that kabedoning you would be a good way to get your attention.

Clearing his throat he tries to remember some of the dialogue from the game. “hey Mc, y-you look pretty clue~ *cough I mean cute t-today.” He stutters, lunging forward to try to put his hand between you and the wall. In a suave and romantic way. 

But this isn't a video game, and Levi had zero rizz IRL

His lack of coordination is very apparent as his hand ends up on your head instead of the wall. It doesn’t hurt you, but you hit the back of your head against the wall giving you a slight bump.

“Oh my gosh, I am such an idiot.” He apologizes, His face is flushed fire engine red as he looks at the little bump on your head in horror.

But you only laugh and tell him it’s okay. And before he can retreat into his room once again, you take his hand and ask him if he wants to come to Madame screams with you for lunch.