#wills just a little weirdo
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Imagine Rebecca introducing Renfield to Grindr after the end of the movie and trying to help him get back in the dating game.
#likes bugs#renfield#renfield 2023#rebecca quincy#robert montague renfield#she's trying to help him get over dracula but finds out he just has#the worst taste in men#renfield: this man looks promising#rebecca: his profile is literally just pictures of him on a motorcycle and he has a cross tattoo#there's someone willing to click on this greasy little weirdo's profile#renfield probably has in his description
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idk man, not wanting to interact with media just bc the creator of said media said "hey, i put a lot of time and effort into this thing i made and i would appreciate if you respected my wishes and didn't sexualize the concept or the characters in it" is a weird hill to die on
#like maybe you should ask yourself why youre so mad about someone else putting up a reasonable boundary?#bc that sounds like a pretty serious issue that you should be dealing with it#that sort of mentality seems dangerous#'b-b-but they chose to share it!! they should have expected that to happen! it's the internet!!'#just bc someone brought a cake to the party doesnt mean they condoned you sticking your dick in it. you fucking weirdo#and also.... that whole sentiment of 'it's the internet. that's just going to happen'#sounds just a little too close to the whole 'if they didnt want it to happen to them they shouldnt have gone out' line#like idk maybe that sounds extreme but if you cant respect something as minor as someone saying not to fuck their meat monster#people should look at you and be worried what other lines youre willing to cross for your libido
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Headcanon that the Bats must be the most infuriating members of the justice league. And it's got nothing to do with what they do or don't know or even their general skills and egos. Everyone is very used to Batman and the expectation that him and any of his spawn are somehow going to be three steps ahead of any issue they bring to the table ever.
No no, the infuriating bit? The stalking.
Listen, this is a family of freaks and weirdos. They work so well together because none of them were normal to start with and then they ended up traumatized. It's practically common practice in that family to accept that nothing is what it seems at face value and that all of your siblings are attempting to pry into your private life and cases at any given moment. I think for them it's honestly weirder if you take what they say at face value. They speak a language holy separate from any normally socialized person and it is a language of lies and half-truths that relies on the assumption that all parties are aware of that.
They're the most infuriating bitches around.
They'll tell someone something and appear to do the opposite and when confronted will have the most convoluted but sound reasoning of why they actually did exactly as they promised too.
They regularly pick people's pockets and hack into personal information because for them? That's practically a love language. They're obnoxious and they aren't even aware of it. Someone asks them to just tell the truth and they react like they've been shot. They're probably offended when they realize that someone hasn't been at least attempting to dig into them back, like come on man. I thought we were friends but you didn't even Google how long Nightwings been around? We've already put the bar on the floor for you guys? My siblings already have a full dossier ready on you because they caught us on camera in your home city during that 2 minute conversation we had 3 months ago. They sent it to me a few hours later. I think they got Oracle to help cause usually it takes them at least 12 hours.
You think they're being nice and friendly and then you realize that they have a nice little file compiled of everything you've done in the last five years, where you went to school and every note your teachers ever made about your behavior a decade ago when you were still a high schooler and fairly normal. If asked they'd probably be willing to bring out the family tree they built for you. They know what you did last summer better than you know what you did last summer. They have pictures, pictures that should be impossible because there's no way they were stalking you then and those sure don't look like security camera footage.
In reality Bats and Superman get along so well because that man is an investigative journalist and when they first met he could not leave it alone. Bruce was charmed the first time Clark Kent started doggedly attempting to ask him if he knew anything about Gothams new cryptid. It was cute how off base he was. But he was trying!!!! Bruce was sold for life! He dropped an dossier on lexcorp off in Clarks apartment a few days later. As a gift.
#listen Bruce probably made it a training exercise#whoever can name the most heroes by the end of the week#(first and last)#gets bragging rights and a joy ride in the batmobile#batman#dc#bruce wayne#batfamily#clark kent#superman#justice league#robin#tim drake#dick grayson#nightwing#red robin#damian wayne#spoiler#stephanie brown#duke thomas#signal
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Continuation from Part 1
Jazz took a deep breath. It's going to be fine. She can be normal for one night. Even if Harley is willing to befriend weirdos on a whim she doubted anyone else would. The shadow beneath her feed rolled like boiling tar and emotions that weren't hers poked at her mind.
"It's okay, Jet. They're not going to hurt me. I'm just... nervous."
She took another deep breath, she'd been told to ignore the closed sign, and entered the Coal Mine. She wasn't sure what she was expecting with a name like that, but it looked like a normal, if kinda rustic bar. It was empty except for a blonde woman in the back of the room, setting up a big table with food and drinks.
"Sorry, we're closed to the pub-" She started speaking before she looked up, stopping once she saw Jazz. "Oh! You must be Jazz, Harley's new friend.... You're early."
Jazz's face turned a little red but she stomped down her unease. "Yep! That's me. Early bird Jazz."
The blonde woman laughed wholeheartedly, but Jazz didn't think her joke was that funny. The woman walked over to her, "I'm Dinah, welcome to my bar. I don't often host girls night, but you got lucky."
Jazz shook her offered hand. "It's a nice place!" Though, Jazz didn't really go to bars. She didn't drink a lot and bars weren't really her scene.
"Feel free to grab a snack, grab a drink. I'm going to finish getting ready. Everyone else tends to be late. Which I guess means you're not early, you're here when we asked you."
"Oh, alright! I'll remember to be late next time." Why did she say that? That's so stupid and rude.... But Dinah laughed again. "Right, um, if it's okay, I did bring something." Jazz offered the plastic bag she decided to reuse with a tray of fudge she made inside it.
"Oh, that looks good. I'll go get a knife and plate to set it out with the other snacks."
Jazz more or less sat in awkward silence as Dinah did her thing getting ready. She wanted to offer to help, but this is Dinah's bar. If anyone else was there, Jazz wouldn't feel the need to help, and she didn't want to get in the way. But this was a private party, so maybe Jazz should offer to help. Just to carry stuff to the table or-
Then the door opened again and two women came through. One was in an expensive looking leather jacket and with short brown hair and the other had a cheap looking leather jacket with long brown hair. The short haired woman started talking before she was even all the way through the door. "Dinah, you would not believe how bad traffic is downtown today. An entire hour to get from 19th to- oh, hello."
Jazz jumped to her feet when the woman addressed her. "Hi, I'm Jazz."
"Selina." She said with a raised eyebrow.
"Harley invited her." The long haired woman said. "You really should read the texts."
"I don't want to set a precedent."
"Still." The long haired woman nodded towards Jazz. "Name's Helena."
"It's nice to meet you." Jazz said with a smile, but it started to slip at the sight of Selina.
Selina gave her a hard look, sizing her up, judging. "You're Harley's friend?"
Jazz rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "She's been to my apartment... and invited me here."
There was a beat of silence before Selina gave an amused huff and said, "You do seem like her type."
Dinah laughed again - maybe she was just easy to make laugh. The two walked over to the table and Selina's eyes immediately settled on the fudge. She opened her mouth to comment but the door opened again and Harley burst through, pulling someone behind her.
"We're here! I even got a special something for- Jazz! You're here already!" She turned to the woman behind her and quickly pushed something into her hands before rounding back to the rest in the room. "Heya Jazzy! I'm happy you could make it! This is my wife - Ivy."
Ivy stepped forward and eyed Jazz with more curiosity than the suspicion Selina had or Helena's indifference or Dinah's more welcoming demeanor. "It's nice to meet you. Harley told me about her little visit to your home. You look... normal."
Jazz knew her face was even redder than before. "Well, normal is the goal, right?"
There was a beat when the other's in the room just seemed to stare at her. Harley barked out her own harsh laughter, "Not here it ain't!"
"O-oh..." Jazz didn't have a frame of reference for this. If normal wasn't what they wanted, then what did they want? Eccentric scientist like her parents? Harley was a vigilante, maybe that's what she should emulate?
"Don't worry." Ivy said as she passed Jazz to sit at the table, a potted plant on a nearby windowsill suddenly, and far too quickly, bloomed. "From what I've heard, I'm sure you'll fit in."
"Harley said that too. I'm just worried. I've never had my own friends before." Oh, shit, she shouldn't have said that. Only weirdos don't have friends.
"Same." Ivy said and picked up a piece of Jazz's fudge.
"Here too." Helena added, and gave the piece of fudge she'd been holding for a while a curious look. It must be unusual for everyone to react this way.
"IS THAT FUDGE? I love fudge!" Harley said and grabbed a handful to stuff in her mouth. "This is so good! Where'd it come from?"
"Oh. I made it. Didn't want to come empty handed, you know." Jazz said, joining the other's at the table and taking her own piece before Harley ate it all. "It's my mom's recipe, but it doesn't quite taste the same without the low-level radiation."
"Oh, you have to put the radiation in it next time!"
"Do not do that." Three other women at the table said in almost unison. Oddly enough, it was Helena who didn't join in.
"Why was there radiation in your mother's fudge?" Selina asked as Dinah started to deal out cards.
"My parents are kinda mad scientists - kinda also mad occultists. All the food in the house was contaminated, and part of the reason my brother and I are vegetarian." Jack and three.
Dinah seemed to loose her breath before wheezing out, "Even more the same."
"What?"
"I'm also a vegetarian, mainly because of the environmental nightmare farming is." Ivy supplied, she bet conservatively.
"Right, that's why my brother's friend is vegan."
"Wait, how does the contamination equate to being vegetarian?" Helena asked - getting excited as Dinah reveals the flop, a good hand then. "Did it make meat taste bad or...?
"Oh, it brought it to life." Jazz said as she traded a card. "I can't tell you how many reanimated headless turkeys and chickens I had to kill. Not to mention the hotdogs Dad trained to attack intruders, they also attacked friends and visitors too. That was too much, even for Spike."
"Holy shit, that's amazing." Harley said while Ivy and Selina looked horrified, Dinah was as entertained as Harley, and Helena was enjoying herself. "Can't say I've ever fought reanimated deli meats."
"Bruce has." Selina commented, and directed at Jazz, "My long-term boyfriend. Thought about marrying him for a little while, but it didn't really suit either of our lifestyles."
No animosity, only relief. Jazz smiled at her, "Different people have different needs. Not everyone needs to be married with children."
Dinah laughed, "And boy, does Bruce have children! How many does he have now? Six? Seven? I thought I read on the news he's got a new one."
"Technically yes, but he's just fostering Duke, not adopting. Once his parents are well again, he'll want to go home." Selina saw Jazz's curious face, but deflected to lighter gossip. "I'm not the motherly type, not that I'd be cruel to any kids I could possibly have especially if they're Bruce's-" She sighed "-but Bruce lives for his kids. He has four adopted children, one biological child from another woman - it's fine, we both have our fun - and two foster children.... I think."
"You're not sure?" Helena questioned. Dinah put out another card.
"I think Steph is a foster, but I never saw the paperwork for it. At the very least, she's living in his house." Selina said, then stared at Ivy. "Not getting lucky, dear?"
Ivy sneered and put her cards down. "I don't even know why I agree to this game."
"Is it the one game all night, or do you do other stuff?" Jazz asked. She's good at poker. Between her enhanced empathy and psychology degree, she was rarely fooled.
"Depends on the place. Dinah likes poker, so we play it when she hosts." Helena said, she looked at Jazz, then Harley and folded her cards. "And we quit when Harley wins all our money and play something else."
"That's right baby!" Harley cheered and slammed her cards face up on the table, "No one beats the Harley!"
Jazz and Selina put their cards down too, face up.
"I guess there are exceptions..." Harley said with a mischievous grin.
Selina grinned too, "Someone has to loose all of Bruce's money."
Jazz grinned as the pot was pushed her direction. "Well, then let me know when it gets boring of just me and Harley playing."
The entire table laughed. Yeah, Jazz was starting to feel like she really would fit in here.
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#jazz fenton#dinah lance#helena bertinelli#selina kyle#harley quin#pamala isley#fan fic#my writing#my fic
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sharing = caring [p.js | s.jy]
Jake thought he could get away with purchasing your panties off of your brother without anyone knowing. Unfortunately, the dorm life, where Jay exists literally three feet away from him at all times makes that impossible. or the one where jake tries to jerk it while his roommate is sleeping and jay just wants him to share a lil bit of what he has hidden under his pillow
minors dni! | requested by anonymous
WORDCOUNT― 1.2k
PAIRING― jake x jay x reader's panties
WARNINGS ― both jake and jay are fucking weirdos. bisexual jay. jake is just horny so he's like "well, ok i guess"
NOTE― tumblr hasn't been letting me post longer drabbles as an ask, so to the anon who sent me this idea, ur brain. mwah.
smut tags under cut::
smut tags― masturbation, panty sucking, kind of guys kissing, cum, moaning, purchasing of panties lol
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Where did you get those?”
Jay stares forward at his roommate, narrowing his eyes for a moment in realization.
“Found them.” Jake shrugs, trying to hide the item crumpled in his fingers, shoving them quickly into his pocket as if it would keep Jay from asking any more questions.
Unfortunately, Jay knows what those are, and knows who they belong to. He saw that fucking instagram post. Jake saw it too, Jay saw his bitch ass like the picture as soon as it was posted.
It was a photo of you alongside your friends. You hadn’t noticed at the time the image was posted, and god, fuck, Jay wishes you never found out because the whole post was deleted shortly after. It was a panty shot, you sitting there on the front steps of a bar alongside your friends. If you zoomed in on the photo, because let’s be honest, Jay always zoomed in, you could see it. You could see your panties.
An accidental panty shot.
So, Jake would be out of his fucking mind to think Jay doesn’t know what those are. What he wants to know is how the fuck he got his hands on them.
Jake awkwardly stands, almost like a deer in headlights as Jay closes in on him, furrowing his brows and glaring at him.
“Jake.” Jay warns him with a deeper tone, “Where the fuck did you get those?”
Jake, famously bad at telling lies, stiffens up before dropping his shoulders entirely.
“I paid her little brother for them.”
Jay lends him a look of disgust. Not because he thinks it’s weird, but more so because why the fuck didn’t he think of that first?”
“Bro…” Jay trails off, wanting to reach into Jake’s pocket and grab them himself, but he relents...for now. “How much did you pay for them?”
What Jake thought would be a scolding session, or like, a life long reason to mock and make fun of him turns out to be…oh. Now, hold on.
“Wait–” He takes a step back, raising a brow. “Why do you care?”
“Are they dirty?” Jay continues to question. “What do they smell like?”
Then, silence as the realization hits them both.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Well.
Jake expected to spend his first night with these panties alone, but it seems like Jay isn’t willing to let him out of his sight with them. Weird, absolute freak behavior, but he gets it.
He’d probably do the same if he noticed Jay twirling your panties in his hands too. Still, he’s been dying to jerk off since he got the first whiff of them.
Yes, they’re dirty.
He didn’t pay $200 for nothing. And your brother drives a hard bargain. Jake seriously almost dipped into his saving because the fucker wanted more for them. Fucking pervert, selling his sister’s panties to make an extra buck.
Whatever.
The issue now is the fact that Jay just lingers.
“Weren’t you supposed to go to work tonight?” Jake groans, hating the dorm life and despising the lack of jerking off he’s been able to do with a roommate so close.
“I called in.” Jay deadpans, rolling over on his bed and acting like he’s going to go to sleep.
Jake leaves it at that, rolling his eyes in a huff and flopping down on his own bed.
An hour goes by in silence.
Two hours.
Jake’s eyes are bloodshot by this point because he really is sleepy. He’s got class at eight tomorrow morning, after all. Thankfully, he can tell Jay is asleep by now. Which means…
He’s as quiet as he can be when he reaches under his pillow, nearly moaning at the feeling of the panties against his fingertips alone. He’s lucky Jay didn’t see him stuff them under here, because for a second he was almost worried they’d be nowhere to be found once he finally got to do this.
And so, silently still, he grabs them and gently lays them across his nose, inhaling deeply before sliding his hand down and into his sweatpants.
He breathes the scent of you in, imagining all sorts of things until he’s working up a sweat trying to hold in his silence. Even if he were being loud, he wouldn’t know it, his ears have been ringing since the first touch of his cock, if he’s being totally honest.
They’re ringing so loudly, and his eyes are shut so tightly that he doesn’t even notice Jay getting out of bed and standing in front of him. He only realizes when the scent of you is suddenly gone and a waft of fresh air fills his lungs instead.
His abs flex as he opens his eyes in a frustrated groan before he’s ripping his hand from his pants and trying to snatch the beloved item back.
“What the fuck?!” Jake grips, not even hiding how hard he is before lifting himself from his bed, onto his knees to try and grab at Jay’s arm.
Jay, already lost in the sauce much like Jake was previously, will be damned to hand them over so easily. So, he presses his two fingers into the seat of the panties and sucks them into his mouth.
Jake nearly sees red at that.
“I paid for those.” He seethes out this time, cock jumping unintentionally at the way Jay’s other hand is blatantly down his own pants, unashamed, right there in front of him.
“We can’t share?” Jay mumbles from around the panties, leaving the fabric in place while pulling his fingers out, reaching for Jake’s arm to pull him even closer.
All Jake can do is follow the grip on him in shock, unsure of what to do but fuck, he was so close already. Jay seems weirdly okay with this…why can’t he?
“Have you not tasted her yet?” Jay mumbles again, rolling his eyes back briefly when he flicks his wrist against the head of his cock.
Jake wouldn’t know what’s going through his mind even if you tortured him to say it. Genuinely, there is no excuse for him to lean forward like this, chasing the scent of your panties right up against his own room mate’s mouth. He tries to save himself from crossing that line by trying to tug them out with a gentle pull, but it doesn’t work. Why doesn’t it work?
Because Jay closes the distance for him. Not kissing him, but lying his lips against Jake’s with the panties acting as a barrier. And then? He presses his tongue out, as if giving the panties back to Jake through a kiss.
Jake moans when he slightly pulls back, hesitating as he moves his hand down his own pants again. Unsure if he’s moaning for the taste of you, the intense arousal in his gut, or, well, being kind of kissed when he like, really really needs it. Jay or not, human contact is human contact when he's this fucking turned on.
Already, Jay is close with the remnant of your pussy on his tongue, but opening his eyes and seeing Jake act just as insane as he does– he can’t help it. There’s something about the taboo nature of it. The way Jake paid for panties from a girl who barely knows either of them. The way he started loudly jerking off as if Jay wasn’t three feet away from him before. The way he flushed while watching Jay try and get some of it too, jerking himself off in the open like that.
The way Jake just..stays here, inches from his face and cums against his sweat pants with a broken moan, drooling all over the panties.
It’s not that his roommate turns him on or anything. Honestly, Jay could give less of a shit about Jake in terms of sexuality but that moan. So broken, so desperate. He couldn’t help himself, reaching and tearing the panties out of Jake’s slack mouth as he releases, just to shove them down his own pants, cumming all into the fabric to not only the taste, scent, and feeling of your panties, but the sound of Jake whimpering at the loss.
#enhypen smut#park jongseong smut#sim jaeyun smut#jake smut#jay smut#jake sim smut#jay park smut#enhypen hard hours
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༻⋆Little Red Riding Hood You Know More Than You Should⋆༺
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Capitano recognizes your ancient name before he recognizes you. Ororon thinks it's about time to confess his feelings to his childhood friend. You just wanted to protect your homeland.
⁀➷ Warnings: Yandere Behavior, Stalking, Possessiveness, Reader has a pyro vision.
⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ Tejano Blue By CAS
⋆ ˚。⋆ Bless your heart, make you part of my life forever ~ CAS
.✦── °❀⋆ .🔥.⋆❀°── .✦
It had started with Ororon.
With the Chrysanthemum he delicately weaved into your hair.
Red red red like the vision that burns at your hip.
Red like the boy-heart you wished to carve out.
It had ended with the Capitano.
With verglas weaving across your arms from his most intimate touch.
Blue, blue, blue like the creature that claimed to know you.
Blue like the veins that harbor such a melancholy legacy.
The chipped wood of the basket pierces your palm, tiny splinters pricking at soft flesh. You don't fully register the twinge; the pain is too silken, too delicate. Instead, you tighten your fist around the wooden handle daring the splinters to puncture, to draw blood. At least then you'd have a reason to visit Ororon, a reason to pry open his door and interrupt his precious isolation.
You'd like to forget about him.
The ignorant boy with the mismatched eyes.
Leave him to rot in his secluded cabin.
But it's all so hard to shake the saccharine memories of the all too lanky boy who used to hold your hand as you played hide and seek with Iktomisaurs in the forest.
Granny Itztli had requested ingredients for a ritual sermon taking place two moons from now. Nightshades and Quenepa Berrys and sand from the cost. "Have you talked to Ororon recently?" Granny asks, her brows furrowed in annoyance or worry or some other emotion too masked to fully read. You shake your head, gingerly plucking the ingredients from your basket and sprawling them across the table. "He hasn't been returning any of my letters, or even answering the tribesman's requests for his vegetables. I swear if that boy-"
You can feel her anger slipping out, the tendrils of her powers lashing at the air, slithering across the walls. You gulp, grasp tightening once more against your basket's handle. The wood scraps at your skin grounding you as you let out a shaky breath. "I'll check on him for you granny," you blurt out trying to plaster a desperate smile across your face. Citlali's eyes soften as she looks at you taking in your taut stance. "I'd always wished for him to pick you as his bride." She mused hand waving the air as if to dispel her anger like smoke. "you'd have been the perfect wife for my foolish grandson, someone to keep an eye on him and his whimsy wills of inanity." She sighs ushering you to the door. "Still I suppose it's not too late."
You turn on your heels defiance ripe on your tongue. Ororon had once been a dear friend, a brother. And while the memories are wrapped in golden velvet and honey. You'd much rather pluck the nails from your fingers than marry that weirdo. But before the protest could be launched the door is solemnly slammed in your face.
You fasten the cloak along your neck, pull the hood over your head
before making your way to the lone cabin in the woods. Skipping along the broken road swinging your empty basket.
The cabin itself is petit and serene, a pretty little heap of wood and spray paint with its renowned vegetable garden stretching the whole diameter. "Ororon," you call out, surprised at how bitter his name tastes. Rotton, almost forgotten. "Ororon," you knock at the door.
Four knocks.
Four pounds.
All accompanied by the bitter name spilling from behind your teeth.
But there is no answer, nothing outside the peaceful lull of the breeze and the distant shrikes of Yumkasaurs.
Nothing.
Well, maybe it's for the best.
You'd have shown him your blistered palm should he have answered. Shown him the blood and silently prayed he'd hold your hand and bandage your wound with all the tenderness of an eight-year-old boy bandaging his best friend's bleeding knee.
It's only when you've started back on the road, heading towards the grand stadium, that you hear something—an icy omen whispering along the horizon. You look around, greeted by nothing but Natlan's nature. Slowly, you start to leave the path, trudging through grass and marching up the little hills, following the distant chill in the air.
What was it Granny always said about straying off the path?
Something about tragedy and trouble waiting beyond the trees.
Only this time, trouble -or rather tragedy- lays behind a set of rocks, half a mile from the cabin. That's when you finally see them. The chill in the air has grown harsher here, biting at your bare arms. You pull your hood further over your head, wrapping the rest of the cape around yourself in a bid for warmth. From the rock you've concealed yourself behind, you can hear two men speak.
Ororon stands before a man, no not a man. Such a human word could not describe the terrifying thing that loomed outside the sun's reach.
Your ears perk at the low timbre of his growl. The monster spews blasphemy, sacrilege, against your dear archon. Calling her a coward for not using the gnosis, calling her inept.
You feel his words cutting through you, lacrations running deep. Your body is on fire your vision boling by your side. What's worst is that Ororon listens, humming along in acknowledgment. You can taste the molten anger stinging the roof of your mouth, feel the embers burning your tongue. Your hand covers your mouth, nails sinking into your cheek to avoid permitting the frustration to break free and blowing your cover.
You turn swiftly, using the cover of rocks and trees to shadow your escape.
Desperately dashing for the path that'll lead you back to your village. Granny Itztli and the tribe leader must hear of this. They must know that Ororon has joined the Fatui and is planning to steal the Archon's gnosis.
The problem, however, may have been the red cape you'd draped yourself in, its bright color catching the wrong sun rays at the wrong time. Luminous enough to catch the captain's attention.
You feel the world slipping, sunlight giving way to a ghoulish purple glow. Your feet hit the battered pavement of the path, right before the world turns to black.
You scream just as something pulls you away...
You've been here before, several times in fact. This is the night kingdom or at least an astral realm within the night kingdom. Your body -your real body- is probably laying limp in the grass being licked by some saurian.
"(y/n), what are you doing here?" Ororon's voice is muffled, distant. A cloud scraping across the rougher edges of the sky. His ghastly apprehension hovers behind you, you can feel his chilled breath on your neck.
You try to speak, to answer. But the words never leave your mouth. You must remember that the shadow world has rules. That you can not move with your legs or speak with your tongue. You form the words like bubbles floating in the air. Waiting for them to pop, to unleash your voice amongst the gloom.
"I was looking for you, granny's worried. Apparently, you've disappeared."
His nails scrape at your neck. Fitting the delicate bones between the cusp of his palm. "But I'm right here" he whispers in your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Sorry, I wasn't there to greet you. I've been...busy".
"Ororon" The voice echoes across the cavern, loud and disturbing. You feel frost leak from every syllable. Your eyes widen as the black-clad monster marches forward body rigid embodying authority and discipline in every move.
Is this how everyone from Snezhnaya looks?
Taut and stiff and malicious?
Draped in furs and armor.
Ominous and cruel.
"This is my friend (y/n) we grew up together. Isn't she cute Capitano?" Ororon ends the statement with a mock peck to your neck. Despite its fleeting nature you still wince at the invasion.
You don't recall Ororon being so bold, so satirizing. Has the folly of the fatui bled into him? Rotted his essence and painted it anew?
"Get rid of her, we haven't the time to waste on such..." The man, no the nightmare. Stops in front of you. His bulky clothes remind you of the Tatankasaurs that roam the sandy southwest.
The captain's mask is sheer black. Murkey candance that hides his mysterious visage. But you notice the jerky way his head tilts down the way you can't escape the strange pierce of his unseable eyes.
"Do I know you" it's phrased as an order, a demnad.
Tell me what you are, what you're supposed to mean to me.
But there is no answer to greet it. Nothing apart from an unsteady silence. You can not know this ice-cold man. From behind you Ororon stiffens, "Do you know the captain." he asks, a silver of betrayal lacing his words. You only shake your head, narrowing your eyes to try and pry beyond the abyss of his mask.
Capitano's hand grips at your fingers pulling them up to his mask. Your heart stops as you see him bow his head, the cold of his helmet biting into your flesh. You hear the kiss like an arrow piercing the ever-looming eeriness of the night kingdom.
Capitano utters your name.
Rolls it around his mouth trying to savor the nostalgia.
Trying to crack open every syllabus and taste its familiarity.
"(y/n)..."
Your body lays limb amongst the grass, from atop the green hill Capitano observes your sleeping form. His eyes trace every curve and crevasse of your body jotting each detail to memory.
You look like so ethereal like this. Blood red amid the green and gold of the prairie. The humor of it all isn't lost on him after all he's partaken in more than his fair share of carnage. And that's exactly what you look like, a beautiful corpse laying in her puddle of blood. A macabre laceration layed upon Natlan's corse.
The sun beats down. Its rays too warm and treasonous.
It's only then that Capitano realizes where he's seen you before.
This exact scene, the blood pooling from beneath, the body lying amidst the grass, the sun blessing the slayed warrior in its light.
He knows you...
You don't remember waking up. Don't recall commanding your stiff muscles to move. Nor do you recall the first sight your wry eyes landed upon.
All you remember is running.
Blurred greens and reds of the scenery rushing by.
Granny must know of this.
The tribe must know of this.
Ororon is a traitor. A conspirator in a plot against Mavurika.
You're not quite sure why your heart stings when you think of this.
Your mouth is dry, ash coating your lips as Citlali glares down at you. Ororon's face flashes behind your eyes. You see him everywhere. Hear his gentle voice shushing you. Your ears are ringing, his voice whispering how much he's missed you, how much he wants you by his side once more.
Citlali says something, you think she's scolding you for traversing the pathway. She's gone in the next blink, essence lingering in a spinning room. Ororon kneels in front of you. No, not Ororon just some spectre wearing his face.
Or maybe it's his astral projection. Maybe he can't let you utter a word of what you saw.
"Just keep quiet darling. I promise this will all make sense soon." His fingers spark when they grace your cheek. Solid and spirit all at once. You try to touch his hand, to sink the sparks inside you, to feel Ororon once more. Instead, your finger collides with your own soft flesh.
The colors are chipping away.
Someone is calling your name.
Ororon or Citlali?
Maybe they've always been the same.
Why is the room spinning?
Why is it so dark...
You shouldn't be out. The sun is too harsh, merciless. You ring your palm across your basket's handle letting the friction rub the flesh raw.
Granny had warned you to stay inside. To avoid Ororon and whatever else you'd seen. But you can't let this go, the words may die upon your tongue but there must be evidence hidden somewhere. Evidence that you can present to the pyro archon, evidence that could save everything.
"Did you really miss me that much?" His voice is sharper than any arrow from his bow. Ororon stands blocking your path the captain hovering beside him.
Weren't you always told the path would be safe?
Capitano reaches out, metal fingers wrapping around your fragile wrist he pulls you to him, dark mask peering beyond you. Trying to piece you together. From behind you feel Ororon's lips sneaking up your neck. You scream, a shriveled sound. "Didn't you come all this way just to see us?" Ororon asks between open-mouthed kisses, you writher between their bodies desperate to escape. Tears flowed from your shiny eyes.
You're so pretty when you cry Ororon feels bad for admitting that. But he can't help but admire how innocent and helpless you look, trapped between two monsters.
It's only now that he notices your red hood is adorned with embroidered Chrysanthemum, for a moment Ororon thinks it has something to do with flowers he used to braid into your hair. Back when he'd been too young to fully understand destiny and you'd been too young to understand legacy.
"I came to find evidence of your betrayal." You spit, free hand reaching into your basket to try to find your ancient name. Tears trickle from your eyes as the captain leans closer. Your fingers finally graze the forged feather and you pry it out, holding it to your chest, feeling its power coursing through you.
Your elbow collides harshly with Ororon's rib, as he tumbles backward you gain enough space to sidekick the captain. Only for it to be blocked by his iron-clad hand. The metal makes your bones ring a sharp pain that leaves your leg numb.
"You bear an ancient name?" Capitano asks, skeptical. You roll your eyes despite your better judgment. Capitano releases your wrist, instead reaching out to try and grab your ancient name. In the millisecond of freedom, you stalk backward before sprinting back to the tribe. Your basket forgotten at the captain's feet.
"she bears the ancient name Ayizu," Ororon says, still clutching his side.
Capitano swallows the information. Letting the sharp edges nick at his throat. He'd had been uncertain before despite all the parallels.
But now the shock was rolling through him like lightning bolts. That's why you looked so familiar. Not only did you bare Ayizu's name but there was no doubt in Capitano's mind that you were one of his descendants.
The captain chuckles a mirthless noise. The irony feels like a blistering burn blooming upon his rotting flesh. "She's quite loyal." he begins, blacked gaze traveling to Ororon. "She'd make a valuable asset in our quest to save Natlan. Fetch her for me will you Ororon?" It's nothing less than an order one that Ororon may be a bit too keen on fulfilling.
"Oh and Ororon, we need to start you on a training agenda. I fear you are the most pathetic warrior Natlan has ever seen."
Ororon's eyes sunken before traversing up the captain's imposing form.
"Yes sir" he mumbles, biting his lips to avoid moaning at the deliciously sharp pain you've gifted him.
It's dark again,
You let the sharp wood of your basket cut into your palm. Relishing in the familiar feeling as blood mars the wooden handle. When did your basket return? You could have sworn you'd abandoned it with your attackers,
The path beneath your feet is cracked and broken. Smeared in ice and ectoplasm. Still, you walk forward into the abyss. There's nowhere else to go.
You expected them to be there. To see their towering forms amidst the darkness. Instead, you see them lounging between the blacked boulders.
Soldiers fresh from the fight. You don't enquire about their endeavors about the horrors you're sure they've inflected upon your land. But before you can fully walk past Capitano grabs your wrist and pulls you into his lap. "Stop" You struggle to break free, only for him to grab your chin and force your eyes onto his faceless visage. "So you're the descendent of my old friend? The inheritor of his noble name." You feel bile creeping up your throat. "Don't insult my ancestor, he'd never associate with the likes of you." you spite.
Capitano chuckles and signs, pulling his mask up a smidge to reveal decayed flesh. You gasp, an opportunity he ceases to pull you into a deep kiss, teeth biting and tearing at your soft lips, his holed tongue running over your teeth. You try to scream to cry, suffocating from the floral-scented rot. When the captain finally pulls back you run your fingers over pained lips smearing the blood across your cheek and chin.
"You should smile more" Ororon teases nipping at your ear until you wince, his hands move up and down your hips squeezing every so often. He's never been this bold before. You blame the Fatuis staring down at you. Blame the Outlander and his weird ways, somehow the irony is utterly lost on you.
"Please just let me go" you beg, your body is on fire your vision pulsing once more. "You're a captain surely you must understand why I'm so eager to protect my people from you?" Ororon laughs, littering your cheek with tiny kisses. "I understand," Capitano responds, his fingers dabbing your blood-covered lips. "I'm desperate to save Natlan too." He brings the red-coated digit to his mouth, sucking softly.
"We all want to protect Natlan" Ororon chips in. "That's why you should join us, honor your ancient name." You shake your head, almost as if you're shaking the nightmare away. "There is no honor in what you're doing."
You feel something around your neck. Metalic fingers wrapping tightly around your throat. Clutching tighter and tighter. With his other hand, the Captain removes his mask.
You scream...
The room is cold, freezing.
Your calloused palm squeezes trying to feel the handle of your wooden basket. When your nails only dig into your own skin, you awaken, head darting trying to find your precious basket.
It's on the table...
You don't have a table by your bed.
Beside you, someone tightens their hold on your waist pulling you into an icy stiff chest. Captiano's breath is cold, his voice gruff with sleep as he whispers little adorations into your ear. You're only now realizing Ororon lying in front of you, his lithe fingers playing with your neck.
No not your neck. There's something wrapped around your throat, no one the cold was unbearable, this "necklace" must be made of pure cyro. "You look so pretty like this." Ororon mumbles, daring to connect his lips to yours in a sheepish, sloppy attempt at a kiss. You wrangle your head to the side breaking the pathetic kiss. Behind you, you feel Capitano's chest rumble in laughter.
"Really Ororon must I teach you everything?" Capitano pushes Ororon's head roughly until his lips are on yours, "Open your mouth" he commands. To which both of you obey not knowing who he's referring to. Slowly Ororon permits his tongue to wander past your lips and into your mouth. Satisfied Capitano begins to suckle and kiss your neck, his sharp teeth effortlessly breaching skin.
"I know you don't believe me when I say, I'm here to save Natlan." Capitano whispers. "But I helped your Ancestor defend this land once, and I shall do it again." Capitano sits up stiffly, his hand on your shoulder using ice to keep you in place. "The war with the Abyss is starting soon. You'll be safe here while Ororon and I make the final preparations." He sighs fully turning to you.
For the first time, you see the rot and decay that has marred his once gorgeous face. You gulp, swallowing your screams, letting his words sink in like the ice chaining you. Capitano pulls himself from the bed, making his way to the door. Ororon gives you a final kiss before also retreating from the bed and going to stand by the captain.
"If we survive this, I don't intend to take you to Snezhnaya. Frankly, I don't think either of you could survive the cold." He jokes, and you notice it's the first time his serious icy facade has cracked. "You will be safe here with Ororon and I'll visit you as much as my duties permit." strange how his words almost, almost sounded like 'I love you' muttered in a foreign tongue enclosed in ice. Something impossible to thaw out.
"I'm sorry about this darling," Ororon mutters as he follows the captain out. "But we'll be back soon." He offers you a soft smile before closing the door. One that makes your heart melt. Instead of a kidnapper, you see the little boy who used to own your heart.
The door closes leaving you to bask in all the glory of your doom.
.✦── °❀⋆ .🔥.⋆❀°── .✦
Apologies this is definitely not my best work but I just wanted to get something out for these two. May end up writing something better later on.
💜Tags: @definitely-asexual-volcano @fujisworld @kudoaii @savsxz @fantasyhopperhea @misscoolisback123 @army-of-inspirited-onces @lorkai @lavandulawrites @kazudare @s1mppp @onceapirateprincess @lovelive-animequeen1029 @trashpandaperson @rhain-things @milktea-coffeelady
#💜Genie writes💜#capitano gif#capitano x reader#capitano x you#yandere capitano#il capitano#capitano#ororon x reader#ororon#il capitano x reader#yandere ororon#il capitano x you#yandere il capitano#il capitano headcanons#ororon x you#capitano headcanons#ororon headcanons#capitano imagines#genshin impact capitano#ororon imagines#yandere capitano x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yancore#yandere x you#yandere aesthetic#yandere imagines#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin impact
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Is it normal to be SO repulsed by willful ignorance or misconception though? Like imagine someone confidently believing the sun orbits the earth here in 2024, for instance, but they have NO other conspiratorial beliefs and are otherwise nice to everyone. Somehow you know for a fact that is the only incorrect thing they believe. Technically that's harmless and meaningless. It doesn't affect anything. But the knowledge that this weirdo just walks around secure in that wrongness, that they would have the hypothetical audacity to think you're the incorrect one, would be impossible for me to get past. I couldn't bear to have a single conversation with them about anything else until that's sorted out. And here we're living in a world where over 50% of people seem to believe at least one thing not only that absurd, but frequently something that's also malicious or dangerous. The real point of this post though is to share how this bothered me so much as a child - even things as dumb as "snakes are slimy" or whatever - it was the only reason I tried for a while to believe in an afterlife and god. I assumed it would mean everyone automatically wakes up to the true facts when they become an angel or whatever, or God just takes every single one of them aside like "no, for real, my humans NEVER MET my dinosaurs! And bats are nice and you should like them!" so for a brief period when I was under ten years old I'd say a lot of shit like "don't worry, they'll know when they die" and I had no idea why this statement seemed to upset or creep people out. What??? It's just a little boy wistfully saying he'll be glad when the ignorant fools are dead, what's wrong
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“thanks for the flowers!”
“what flowers?”
in which they find out you receive a gift from someone that isn't them.
characters; wanderer, alhaitham, kaveh
; i keep seeing that damn tiktok 😐 gender neutral reader, fluff, crack,
WANDERER eyes you skeptically, suspicion being evident on his pale features as he scans your expression up and down. has he already caught on to your little prank?
“first of all, who in their right mind would court you? and with some sappy flowers as well?”
you return his unamused gaze, finding him very unfunny.
“you do know that you're dating me, right?”
“unfortunately.” he clicks his tongue, further leaning towards your face, brows still furrowed as if he's trying to decipher something, gazing at you with an unreadable expression that has your resolve crumbling. “is this another one of your antics to get a rise out of me? if so, it's not working.”
his lips break out into a grin upon watching your eyes widen. but your shock doesn't last long—him immediately seeing through your silly scheme isn't an unexpected outcome, funnily enough.
“you're too serious sometimes.” you pout at him whilst he scoffs, “just humor me. what would you actually do if i managed to receive flowers from another?”
“it's simple—you can't.” comes his swift and confident reply, offending you as you stare at him incredulously, weighing the implication of his words.
“you speak of me like i'm the most unattractive person in teyvat—what do you mean i can't?”
“you're an idiot. would i have really chosen you if you were unattractive in any way?” he crosses his arms before facing you completely, indigo hues staring directly into yours.
“i already eliminated all those who dare steal you from me.”
...?
you freeze on the spot, processing what you've just heard.
“...excuse me?”
“—just kidding. i'm no longer that type of person, hah.” he huffs out a derisive laugh, yet his humorous farce does not meet his eyes.
not finding any comfort in his supposed testament of it only being a joke, you opt to stare at him confusingly in return. weirdo.
ALHAITHAM, much like the wanderer, catches on to the prank immediately. whether it's intuition, scarily precise deduction or just the way you generally act weird when it comes to lying to his face—he still figured you out in the end like it's nothing.
but unlike the wanderer, he decides to humor you and play along. what a good boyfriend.
“...you mean you didn't give me the flowers?” you flutter your lashes at him, a horrible and terribly inefficient way to convince him that the whole thing with the flowers is actually real. alhaitham suddenly has the rare urge to laugh. since when did you act like this?
alhaitham shifts in his seat. “no. who do you think it's from?”
“hm.” you hum thoughtfully, bringing a finger to your chin as if in deep thought. the scribe briefly wonders how far you're willing to take this joke. but he digresses—the chances of him actually getting mad at you are akin to that of kaveh finally shutting up—
“maybe kaveh? he grew an interest in flowers recently, so i've heard. maybe he sent some as like a sign of friendship or something along those lines...there's no way it means something else, riiiiiight?”
alhaitham pauses his train of thought.
speak of the devil.
momentarily doubting his conclusion that you're just pulling a prank, he quietly glowers at you as if silently telling you to take back your words.
“what about him?”
you immediately cower upon the drop in his tone—raising your arms in defense when alhaitham moves to stalk closer to you. “i was joking! i didn't get any flowers from anyone and last time i conversed with kaveh was when i—”
“let's go.” he grabs the back of your collar and drags you along, a newfound heavy weight in his footsteps as an indescribable and uncomfortable feeling creeps up on his neck.
“i really was just joking, 'haitham! i was bored and i wanted to annoy you for a bit! i swear!”
even if it wasn't true, the thought of kaveh gifting you flowers without his knowledge—
alhaitham's expression subconsciously turns sour. quite unlucky that you couldn't witness the extremely scarce sight of jealousy on your boyfriend as you are comically dragged against your will behind him.
“the nearest flower shop is just around the corner. tell me if anything piques your interest.” he says in way that has no room for argument. he is getting you flowers now.
KAVEH falls for it, obviously. not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed outside his designated profession, you see.
“i don't remember buying any flowers...” he mutters to himself, the gears in his head turning. it's almost laughable when he finally pieces your words together, a look of disbelief painfully present on his faxe but by some miracle, you resisted the urge to burst out in giggles right then and there. “wait...i didn't send any!”
“is that so...then who would send me flowers other than you?” you edge him on, instigating at its finest, much poking a sleeping bear with a stick while you circle it tauntingly.
an actual enraged kaveh is something you've never seen before, just some tantrums and endless ranting about some clients and his roommate. you've always wanted to see it—just not directed at you, hopefully.
“that's...ah, people already know you're dating me though, so it can't be someone hitting on you. maybe it's just from a relative or—”
“really?” you tilt your head, feigning a bit of confusion. “then i suppose i should keep these red roses then. i'll ask tighnari how to keep them alive, i guess.”
“w-wait, wait—could you repeat that?”
“hm?” you face him, “i'll ask tighnari?”
“no, the one before that.”
“...i'll keep the red roses?” you had to hold yourself back from grinning ear to ear when his eyes widen.
it's not unexpected that someone versed in the beauty of art would recognize one of the most common flower's meaning. quite the handy trivia.
he immediately stands up, grabbing your hand in tow as you yelp in surprise at his abruptness.
“kaveh?!”
“those flowers mean love! like, actual romantic love! i'll burn it for you right now! where'd you put it!?” the intensity of his ruby gaze sends shudders down your spine.
“it's not like i reciprocate it—”
“still, no one other than me should be sending those...!” kaveh tightens his grip on your hands, “i don't like the idea of someone hitting on you. i can't let anyone attempt to take you away from me...”
you blink. “kaveh...”
“—that's why show it to me now! or i'll bite you!”
“okay, okay! jeez...”
now...how are you going to break the news to him that it was actually yellow roses, and most definitely not from an admirer?
the biggest hater of my work is myself. wtf am i writing bruh ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ
#can i just announce thag i only found out today that i am moots with LOCK????#literally screamed when i saw her name in my followers list#literally my inspiration for writing😭 one day ill write just like her i promise#for now enjoy my terrible vocabulary#genshin impact x reader#genshin drabbles#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact imagines#genshin x reader#wanderer x reader#alhaitham x reader#kaveh x reader#kunikuzushi x reader#scaramouche x reader#har❗fiction
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do you think different versions of dazai would have different kinks? 🌸
oh absolutely. pmzai, beastzai, adazai, merzai and love of my life kitsunezai. they'd all have different areas ( as much as all relate to being a freaky bastard )
adazai is a freak. he's into bondage, tears, praising and degradation, pain and being coddled. etc. he's a freak all around and would most likely do any kink you ask of him. he's happy to be here and seeing you in pleasure makes him harder. he's down to fuck you or be fucked literally all night. take control or let him do it! a solid baseline for the dazai aus
beastzai takes more control then adazai. he likes collars, bondage, leashes, things of the like. he's rougher most of the time, unless you catch him on a vaunrable night. he'll prefer to be the top, to take most of the control and deny your orgasms or force more out of you. but he's also soggy and pathetic and will weep and let out such wonderful loud sounds if you take charge. he cannot hold himself back and the sheets will be soaked one way or another, whether with tears cum or other. he's a masochist, sorry. blood, knife play and gunplay are something he'll never turn down. to bounce you on his cock and threaten to pull the trigger when you slow down? okaaaaaay.
merzai is definately a weirdo, but there's less legroom for things to do. he doesn't like bondage, not on himself at least. a mermaid tail is already difficult to fuck with. he's stronger then you anyway, he doesn't need them. if orals a kink he's definately got it, there's nothing he loves more then holding you down on a rock and eating you out sloppy. his tongue is freakishly long as a bonus. less mentioned but he's VERY into oviposition. the thought of filling you warm and full with his eggs gets him so riled up. not fully a kink just more of a fascination, but he'll do pussy inspections too. he just wants to know about humans more!
kitsunezai oh god kitsunezai. he's like adazai, basically into everything. he's less sexual 24/7 then the other dazai's, as much as his sex drive is high he's not grinding against you every night and begging for you. he'll offer up praise, or maybe degrading on normal nights. but nothing too crazy, he's a spirit. he has a small reputation to uphold. but during his heat seasons everything switches. he's willing to try anything like that, he wraps his tails around you and begs you to let him pump a litter into you. breeding, bondage, pain and tears. anythings on the table! have fun exploring cause you won't be able to walk or sit down tomorrow.
pmzai is a little more nervous about it, when he touches you his hands are shaky and he's not fully secure in what he's doing. as much as he'd like to in his mind, any of the things he'd be turned on by he's almost too afraid to do in practice. he doesn't like being degraded and tossed around, ( he's quite vaunrable sometimes. ) he's so into praise, he trembles when you call him a good boy. guided orgasms and gradually being eased into allowing you to wreck him. ( sorry pmzai fans he would not want anything in him at all for a WHILE that shit terrifies him )
#✎𓂃 𝐍.ᴏᴛᴇʙᴏᴏᴋ#🌸 anon#dazai x reader smut#dazai x reader#dazai x y/n#dazai osamu x reader#dazai smut#pmzai x reader#beast dazai x reader#kitsunezai x reader#merzai x reader#i should make tags for characters#𝐇.ᴏʀɴʏ ♥︎`#PMZAI IS 18!!!!! HES 18!!!!!!#「 𖹭 ᴍᴇʀᴢᴀɪ 𖹭 」#「 𖹭 ʙᴇᴀsᴛᴢᴀɪ 𖹭 」#「 𖹭 ᴋɪᴛsᴜɴᴇᴢᴀɪ 𖹭 」#「 𖹭 ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ 𖹭 」#「 𖹭 ᴘᴍᴢᴀɪ 𖹭 」
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I really like your headcannons! I’m curious on if you’d be willing to do some for sleepy Shigaraki?? Like maybe what he’d be like in the morning or just how he’d act in general while in desperate need for a nap lmao
yes yes omfg thank u so much for the ask!!!!!
sleepy shiggy hcs
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏ ⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⋮ ⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀☆⠀⠀⠀ ⋮ ⠀⠀⠀ ☆⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀⠀☆ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ☆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⋮ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ☆
hes a night owl, so he stays up well into the break of dawn most nights. only once the sun starts to crest will he drag himself off his game and tumble into bed.
he gets really whiny when he's tired. you notice that if he stays up too late, he speaks a lot less and when he does, it's mostly mumbling.
drinks a LOT of monster/redbull to keep himself up all night
he likes to deny he's tired, but if you ask him to nap with you, he'll immediately stop what he's doing and lay down with you (he always falls asleep first)
doesn't really snore but talks in his sleep sometimes, usually saying things as if he's talking to an animal? he says "fetch", and "baby" a lot. (im so sorry for this one)
takes a lot to wake him. even with the loudest alarm setting, he'll sleep right through it.
extra clingy in the early morning. he'll keep grabbing at you if you try to get up, grumbling about "five more minutes" and "cuddles" :-:
always asks you to rub/scratch his back.
prefers being little spoon, because he feels safer that way.
sleeps in the weirdest fucking positions. one time you woke up to his feet in your face and his head hanging off the end of the bed.
blanket hogger for sure. he gets cold at night
has frequent nightmares and will wake up multiple times, only to see you sleeping there, and he'll move right in and lay on you to comfort himself.
before you, he had an anime body pillow, but you made him throw it out (he was only slightly mad).
has a secret stash of plushies under his bed of his favorite video game/anime/cartoon characters (your personal favorite is the bmo plushie) (you make him put it on the bed)
has minecraft pjs and actually loves them
however he rips his clothes off after about twenty minutes of laying down because he starts to "feel tangled".
when hes reaaaaally tired, he'll go silent and just make weird hand gestures at you. youve learned what each gesture means by now.
his sleepy voice is raspier, but also higher pitched. he also says some WEIRDO shit when hes tired.
definitely gets zoomies pre-bedtime
okay this is all i have for now!
hope this sparks joy <3 tysm for asking love
#bnha#mha#my hero academia#shigaraki x reader#tomura shigaraki#shigaraki headcanons#mha shigaraki#shigaraki fluff#tenko shimura#mha tenko#tomura#bnha tenko#shigaraki#shimura tenko#myhcs#my asks#myposts
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Lease
best-friend!roommate!reader x Steve Rogers
*This was a totally random and spontaneous idea. Not edited. Light language (so we can get *the joke*), pining, light angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff. This work is for all ages! WC ~2k
Sam Wilson introduces you. Both your parents were veterans and active at the VA, so you practically grew up there.
At first, you’re reserved, a little formal, but very nice. Oddly enough, Steve just likes that you don’t hound him with questions about his military service and how it was different based on the decade, etc. You are just…around to listen.
He finds himself filling any (comfortable) silence between you with stories. Stupid things. Things that don’t have to do with the VA or his past or even his present, which is entirely work as Captain America.
Steve gets to a point where he is itching to live off of Avengers Campus, but he doesn’t want to live alone.
One day he finds you hunched over a laptop and grumbling, “why is everything so fucking expensive?”
A sentiment which, of course, he frowns at.
“Sorry,” you shrug, a look of sincere apology on your distraught face. “I didn’t realize it, but apparently, I’m poor with my measly three-thousand-dollar-a-month budget for an apartment. Now I have to find a roommate, and—“ you start wagging a finger at him sarcastically “—I don’t know if you’ve noticed there’re some real weirdos out there. It’ll take me longer to find a safe, stable roomie than it takes to—“
“I can move in with you.”
Steve almost gasps at how fast the words fly out of his mouth.
“Well, not ‘move in’ to your current place. I mean. I can—I would be willing to live with you. Sorry! That sounds bad. You’re not bad. I meant…you know, anytime you want to chime in and stop me would be helpful.”
You remain silent and smirking.
“Right. Okay. So…think about it? Or not, that’s fine.”
“Let’s talk figures, Rogers. The square-footage just doubled, and I need to rework the budget.”
Moving in is shockingly uneventful. You’re easy to get along with, when not suddenly up on your high horse about something, and Steve is easy to get along with under the same circumstances. You push his militant rigidity to the brink on purpose, but never too far.
Things sit out in the wrong place, but it’s never dirty. Stuff doesn’t always get returned promptly, but if he asks, you’re on it.
There are two bathrooms, thank mercy.
He has random and odd hours. You work nine to five, mostly. It’s the perfect level of independence without loneliness for Steve.
Sam and Natasha stop by regularly or ask you both out for drinks or to fun, new places.
One time, when Nat is ribbing Steve to go talk to a cute girl ordering at the bar, he panics and takes your hand in his on the tabletop.
“How can I do that when my date is right here?” he grits playfully through his pearly white teeth. “Leave it alone.”
Each word is punctuated by a shift forward and a slight tilt of his head.
Natasha is unamused and instantly grabs your other hand (which was holding your drink) to pull you toward the dance floor.
It’s awkward for multiple reasons. You’d pay a whole month’s rent to know what Sam and Steve talked about after you left.
Sam takes a different approach, luring—or attempting to lure—Steve into setting up just one dating profile online.
“You don’t have to put photos,” Sam assures, “and you can stick with your first name only. I swear to you, man, this’ll be good for you. Get you out there more. Help me out here, Tagalong!”
He turns to you for support. To be fair, you did quite literally tag along with your parents for years to the VA, and it stuck. Why it sticks as a grown-ass adult? You’ll never know. You just don’t mind Sam Wilson saying it because he means well and never uses it in public.
“Uh, nooooo.”
Sam’s face falls. “What?”
You look at Steve and grimace, clicking your tongue. “He’s not ready for that,” you conclude.
Steve jumps out of the chair, arms wide with victory.
“THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING!”
“I know you told her to say that,” Sam shouts back.
“Did not,” Steve barks.
“He did not.” You lean against your bedroom doorframe. “I just think it’s obvious.”
That makes Steve deflate a little. “Wait, but…I’m not that bad.”
“Oh gosh,” you fake with a huge smile, “look at the time! Gotta be off to bed…”
The men keep fighting albeit muffled from your side of the wall. The only part you can make out before giving them privacy is Sam, whining, “but you actually like bubble baths and walks on the beach, dude. You’re gonna be money on there.”
“Hey, why do you not, ya know, date?”
You look up from your breakfast, stunned because that came out of nowhere. You’ve lived together over six months now, and Steve hasn’t asked for one iota of personal—well, romantically personal—information.
Twiddling your fork around, you think.
“I always imagine what my parents would think of him, any guy I’ve ever considered being with longterm, and…I was just never proud to say ‘here, here’s the one,’ I guess.”
Your parents have been gone for years. You value their opinion anyway.
“Mhm,” Steve hums, “the one?”
You take a bite of food, straightening your back, tossing a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah, if you believe in that sort of thing.”
He’s quiet for a while.
“So you’re waiting for the right partner?” Steve finally mutters, and he watches your noncommittal gesturing intently.
That was a ‘yes.’
Natasha knows. Sam knows. Steve suspects but won’t admit to anything. You are kind and unreadable.
You’ve always been kind, so there’s no discernible difference to signal you have feelings for him in return. He can’t bring himself to be anything less than a gentleman at home and makes absolutely no moves to find out.
He stays out in the living room a lot more, all hours, hoping you’ll mention staying in for a movie, praying you’ll be tired enough to fall asleep on his lap on the couch.
He’s in way too deep.
What Steve suspects is that it would be too awkward to start anything while living together, but he doesn’t want to leave you in the lurch for rent or a roommate. He also desperately doesn’t want to move out. The status quo is comfortable.
He loves being comfortable with you.
The stress of not telling you, while needing to make some sort of arrangements should telling you blow up in his face, starts to wear on him.
Steve is a pro at compartmentalizing his life, so it’s when he’s stuck at the apartment without any missions, a handful of meetings, and a team that all have lives for two long months that he cracks…in the least attractive way.
He’s messed up his sleep schedule with worry and playing innocent, and out of the not-so-blue, a horrible, vivid nightmare hits him. Steve isn’t even on the mattress anymore by the time he figures out there wasn’t carpet like this in Germany and the desk chair he grips is not a motorcycle.
“Rogers,” he hears. “Rogers, can you look at me?”
The dark room is somehow hollow and stifling all at once. His head turns slower than his brain tells it to.
Steve blinks.
“Do you know where you are?”
“Hey, sweets,” he husks from a dry throat. “What…”
“Can you tell me where this is?” You step closer and pry one of his hands off the mesh to cradle in yours. “Where are we, Rogers?”
“Home.” He swallows. “Our home.”
Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but you nod like he’s done well.
“Okay, Steve, I’m going to get you some water. If you want—“ your fingers smooth over the back of his hand, nudging the other to release the chair “—you can sit on the bed.”
You don’t leave. You don’t even get up from the floor.
He doesn’t notice he’s clutching your hands, shaking slightly until long seconds go by.
“Yeah. Okay.” Steve lets go, otherwise unmoving, contemplating how he ever thought the semi-rough industrial carpet felt the same as mud.
You carefully hand him the water and rub his back, using your nails to trace invisible patterns. He can’t remember what he was so scared of a minute ago. He only knows he’s sweating that empty kind of confused.
“What’s that supposed to do?” he asks absently.
You shrug. “Eh. Back scratches just feel good.”
Steve’s mind remains blank as he sips his water.
: We need to renew the lease soon. Like this week.
Steve has stalled as long as humanly possible; he is officially not being a gentleman now. He is a coward.
: Talk about it when I get home?
: Could you at least tell me if this is a hard NO on staying here or just some concerns/questions? : I don’t get why you’re being like this.
Steve gets it, but he hates it.
: I’ll be back tonight. Should I pick up food?
: ffs : Fine. Whatever you want.
Steve also hates when you’re mad at him…which has been happening more and more.
He’s been distant, he refuses to let Sam or Nat come around for fear they’ll play match-maker and ruin the whole thing, and he is about to ruin the whole thing anyway.
Because he is not smooth. Because he is not prepared. Because he’s built up this perfect and amazing, sweep-you-off-your-feet moment.
And he bungles it.
“Out with it,” you command, haughtily yanking your portion of food from the countertop beside him, heading for the dinette.
“I want to be with you,” he blurts.
“Thank god,” you sigh, settling in your spot. “So we’ll go down to the office and sign in the morning. I don’t want there to be an issue if you’re off to wherever for who-the-hell-knows how long on the date the thing expires.”
“No, I…” but Steve’s voice is too quiet.
“There’s only a tiny window where they’re open before I have to head to work, so let me physically sign first, right? Then I gotta go.”
“Sure,” he slurs.
“Steve?” You turn to see him staring down at his food. He’s still across the room. “Are you okay?”
“I said I—I meant that—“ he huffs out his breath and taps his fist on the counter “—I meant that I’m an idiot,” he finishes softly.
Approaching with that beautiful, open-hearted kindness that haunts his days and soothes his night, you cross to him, scratching his back just the way he’s grown to crave.
“Think you might be hangry,” you chuckle.
He cannot do this. Steve is hanging on by a thread until the graze of your hand slides down his forearm to take his plate, and he spins.
He’s thought about kissing you so many times, he mapped out the angles he’d have to hold himself at, how far he needs to lean to get to you, the care to take wrangling in his strength and sheer excitement.
Steve Rogers is good at planning, at least, this part.
Gentle pecks of his plush lips to yours leave gaps in contact that let you whimper, and he fears you stopping him. He presses, wrapping his arms around you and molding your bodies together. The linoleum of the kitchen floor makes sticky sounds beneath your shuffling feet, squeaking once you hit the adjacent wall.
The force of that knocks your frozen arms into his chest, and painfully, Steve relents to step away, but not far. He bites his bottom lip and tastes the balm from yours, his head tilted in shame but fiery eyes watching you from beneath long lashes.
“Oh,” you breathe out. “Oh…you meant…”
Steve’s tongue darts out hungrily.
“Yeah.”
[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
They're soooo cute!!!!!!
#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#750+#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers one shot#steve rogers x female reader#captain america fanfiction#captain america x reader#captain america x you#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#hurt/comfort
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Svt ot13 reaction when you asked them if you could tie a bow on IT and take pictures with 🤭👀
18+ / mdi
asking if you can tie a bow on it and take a picture
content: established relationship implied, mention of dicks, etc.
wc: 487
a/n: very much would like to see them actually react to this lmao
masterlist
seungcheol -
confused but also a little turned on for some reason (he doesnt get it either). hesitantly agrees to it under the condition that you take care of his hardness afterwards.
jeonghan -
will only do it if you agree to wrap his favorite part of yourself with a bow and let him take a picture. doesnt even question your request as long as he gets something out of it too.
joshua -
he knows of the trend and he was kind of expecting you to ask. teases you about it by acting scandalized by it, only to eventually give in (teasing you even further in the process).
jun -
somehow i feel like he'd already know about this trend and he'll just have been waiting for you to bring it up. thinks its cute in a weird way, claiming you must like his dick if you're wanting to dress it up and take pics for posterity.
soonyoung -
turned on by the mere suggestion of you and his cock in the same sentence. will ask you to send him the picture after (he doesnt explain why).
wonwoo -
calls you a weirdo and scoffs with a chuckle, immediately denying you. if you whine and pout long enough he'll compromise and offer for you to wrap a bow around his bicep instead.
jihoon -
adamantly says no. at first it'll be a no bc he finds it weird and also does not want to risk anyone else seeing his dick, but then it becomes a no bc it makes him feel awkward.
seokmin -
you'd already wrapped bows on his head, waist, around his biceps, whats another one on his dick? he'll do it just to please you, finding it both funny and kind of cute how you're dolling him up in every way possible.
mingyu -
a little cocky about it, teasing you about how badly you love his dick. will agree to it, but only if he gets to orchestrate everything from the lighting to the color of the bow.
minghao -
calls you a weirdo and insists on not doing it. after you drop it for a few days, you'll randomly receive a text containing a picture of his cock wrapped in a bow with a very deadpan text attached such as 'there.'
seungkwan -
"what's wrong with you?" would be his immediate response, throwing you a look of disgust. he'd find it genuinely weird and say no. it'd take a LOT of convincing to get him to do it.
vernon -
chuckles incredulously bc wtf? assumes it's some weird trend you saw online so he doesn't question it too much. does it just to entertain you.
chan -
a question mark manifests above his head the moment you ask him, completely confused as to why you're asking and not knowing how to react. in the end he'll say yes, always willing to do anything for you, but will end up getting horny for some reason.
#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen#seventeen oneshot#svt#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt oneshot#svt imagines#svt reactions#seventeen reactions
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asking skz to tie a ribbon around their bicep
ot8 stray kids x gn!reader
request: Asking the ot8 boys to tie a ribbon around their biceps
wc: 4172 (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
a/n: not proofread 🙂↔️.
bang chan
You were at the gym, watching Chan move through his usual routine. His biceps were flexing with each rep, and you couldn't help but appreciate the effort he put into his workout. Your eyes kept drifting back to his muscles, and an idea popped into your head—a mischievous one.
You walked up to him after he finished his set, smiling innocently. “Hey, babe, could you do something for me?”
Chan looked up, wiping the sweat from his forehead, his face already breaking into a smile at the sight of you. “Sure, anything. What’s up?”
You leaned in slightly, “Could you tie a ribbon around your bicep for me? Just for fun.”
Chan blinked at you in surprise, then chuckled. “A ribbon? Around my bicep?”
You nodded, your grin widening. “Yeah, just for me. I think it’d look cute. Please?”
He let out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement, but the smirk on his face said it all—he wasn’t going to say no. “You’re a weirdo, but alright. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”
He put the little, decorative ribbon you brought with you around his bicep, making sure it was snug but not too tight. The cheeky sparkle in his eyes caused you to laugh out loud when he turned to face you once more. "You think this is cute enough?" Chan asked, flaunting the ribbon and flexing his arm. "Perfect," you replied, smiling softly as you reached out to gently adjust it. "Everything looks good because of you." He leaned forward and kissed your forehead as his smile softened. "I'll wear a ribbon every day as long as it brings you joy."
You laughed, grateful for how far he’d go to indulge your silly requests.
lee know
On a relaxing afternoon, you and Minho were relaxing at home while you sat cross-legged on the couch and browsed through your phone to the soothing sounds of some music. Minho was at ease as he laid beside you with his arm slung across the back of the couch. You gave him a quick glance as a lighthearted thought occurred to you. You had always liked his biceps, but today you wanted to see them in a completely new way—in a cutesy yet ridiculous way. You quickly placed your phone down and smiled as you turned to face him.
With a hint of mischief in your tone, you said, "Hey, can you do me a favor?" Minho arched an eyebrow, obviously interested but unsure of the direction of this. "What is it?" Reaching over, you placed a little, colorful ribbon you had previously picked up on the side table. It was the perfect size and a gentle pastel tint. Your smile grew as you extended it to him. "Could you tie this around your bicep for me?" Minho looked at you for a time, blinking, as though he was trying to tell if you were kidding. "A ribbon? "Around my arm?" he asked, appearing both genuinely perplexed and amused by the request.
"Yeah," you said, giggling a little. "I think it'd look cute. Just for fun. Please?”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "You're so random." But his smile grew, and he took the ribbon from you, clearly willing to indulge you. As he looped it around his bicep, you couldn't help but watch as his muscles flexed slightly under the motion, making your heart skip a beat.
Once it was tied, Minho looked at you, flexing his arm with a smirk. “Happy now?”
You leaned forward, pretending to inspect it, your finger gently adjusting the bow. "Absolutely. You look... ridiculously good. Like a gift wrapped just for me."
He rolled his eyes, clearly entertained. "You're weird," he said with a smile, but you could see the fondness in his eyes.
"You know you love it," you teased, reaching over to give his arm a playful squeeze, feeling the strength beneath your fingers.
Minho smiled, his hand coming up to ruffle your hair. “I really do,” he said, clearly amused by how something so simple could make you so happy.
"Good," you said, resting your head on his shoulder. "You’re the best, Min. Thanks for letting me make you a walking present."
He laughed, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close.
changbin
It was a quiet night at home, and you and Changbin were spending time on the couch while the soft glow of the living room lights created a cozy atmosphere. He was leaning back, his muscles flexing slightly with each movement, while you were snuggled up next to him, your head resting on his shoulder, lazily scrolling through your phone. His biceps, which are well-defined and strong because of the amount of work he puts into his workouts, caught your eye as you looked at him absently. You admired his muscularity, but you couldn't get a silly idea out of your head today.
You turned to him, a mischievous smile slowly spreading across your face. "Hey, Bin," you said, glancing up from your phone.
He looked down at you with an amused expression. "What’s up?"
You hesitated for just a second, then pulled a small ribbon from your pocket, its soft pastel color standing out against the more neutral tones of the room. "Can you do me a favor?"
Changbin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the sudden request. “What kind of favor?”
You held the ribbon out toward him with a teasing grin. “Could you tie this around your bicep for me? Just for fun. I think it’ll look cute.”
He blinked at you, clearly taken aback. “A ribbon? Around my bicep?” His voice was a mix of confusion and amusement, though you could already tell he wasn’t going to say no.
You nodded, your smile widening. “Yeah, I think it’ll look cute. Just once, please?”
Changbin let out a small laugh, shaking his head at your quirky request but not even hesitating to take the ribbon from your hand. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, but there was a hint of playfulness in his voice. “But okay, for you.”
He gently wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, the contrast of the soft fabric against his muscular arm making your heart race. You couldn’t help but admire how even something so simple looked so good on him. Once it was secured, he flexed his arm slightly, looking down at it with a smirk.
"Well?" Changbin asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "How do I look?"
You bit your lip, trying to contain your excitement. “You look... ridiculously good,” you said, your voice dripping with affection. “Like some kind of strong, tough guy, but also a little bit of a sweetheart with a ribbon around your arm.”
At your lighthearted remark, he shook his head and laughed. With the ribbon still precisely positioned on his arm, he drew you close to him and added, "I'm glad I can make you happy." You were happy with the small moment as you leaned toward him and put your head against his chest. You smiled to yourself and whispered, "You always do." "You're perfect." Changbin laughed quietly and kissed your forehead.
hyunjin
It was a sunny afternoon, and you and Hyunjin were strolling through a small outdoor market, taking in the sights and smells of the various stalls. You were looking at the colorful displays, the light breeze adding to the pleasant atmosphere. Hyunjin walked beside you, his relaxed stride matching the laid-back vibe of the day, his sleeves rolled up casually, showing off his sculpted arms.
You were walking past a stand with fabric and ribbons when you noticed one that stood out as especially delicate—it was a gentle pastel pink. Before you could stop yourself, you turned to Hyunjin and smiled nonchalantly as an idea struck you. You said, "Hey, Hyun," as you gazed up at him with a playful twinkle in your eyes. He looked down at you, looking at you with interest. "Yeah?" While holding out the ribbon, you said, "Can you do me a favor?"
He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What kind of favor?"
With a teasing smile, you held the ribbon out toward him. "Could you tie this around your bicep? Just for fun," you said, your voice light and playful.
Hyunjin stopped walking for a moment, blinking at you in surprise. "A ribbon? Around my arm?" He chuckled softly, clearly amused by the randomness of the request. "Are you serious?"
You nodded enthusiastically, unable to contain your excitement. "Yep! I think it'd look cute. Come on, please?"
Hyunjin stopped for a moment, then shook his head while continuing to laugh. He said, "You’re really something," but his smile made it clear he wasn't going to turn you down. Taking the ribbon from your hand, he easily tied it around his bicep, his biceps rippling slightly as you both walked ahead. He arched an eyebrow at you as he straightened up and flexed his arm after tying it. With a teasing grin tugging at his lips, he asked, "How do I look?"
When you saw him with the delicate ribbon against his muscular arm, you couldn't help but giggle. Your heart skipped a beat at how incredibly good he looked. "You look... like a model who’s ready to break hearts and steal ribbons," you taunted. Clearly pleased with himself, Hyunjin grinned. "Well, I'm glad you think so," he added, emphasizing with his arm still flexed. "Anything for you, I guess." You bent over and kissed him on the cheek. You muttered, "You're the best," appreciating how he always gave in to your silly requests.
HAN
It was a breezy afternoon, and you and Jisung were taking a stroll through a local park, enjoying the calm atmosphere. The trees were swaying gently in the wind, and the sun was just starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. You walked side by side, hands brushing occasionally, the sound of your footsteps mixing with the peaceful background noise of nature.
As you walked, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. Jisung had rolled up his sleeves earlier, revealing his toned biceps. Every time he moved, you couldn’t help but admire how strong he looked, his muscles subtly flexing.
An idea popped into your head, and a playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You decided to have a little fun.
"Hey, Ji," you said, turning to him with a teasing grin.
He glanced over at you with that signature cocky smirk of his. "What? What’s that look for?" he asked, already sensing that something mischievous was coming.
You pulled a soft, pastel ribbon out of your bag that you’d picked up earlier, holding it up with a playful sparkle in your eyes. "Can you tie this around your bicep?" you asked casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Jisung blinked for a moment, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, before a cocky grin spread across his face. "A ribbon? Around my bicep?" he repeated, clearly amused. "What, you think I need a little decoration to match my muscles or something?"
Without even attempting to conceal your laughter, you burst out laughing. "Well, you know," you replied, "It’s just that I think you'd look even more... impressive with it." Jisung laughed, obviously taking pleasure in your flirty banter. "Oh, so I’m already impressive, but a ribbon is just the finishing touch?" His voice was overflowing with confidence as he flexed his arm, obviously playing up the situation. "Alright, I will. For you.” Taking the ribbon from your hand, he wrapped it around his bicep and secured it with a little, exaggerated arm flex. He moved slowly and deliberately, obviously relishing the attention he was receiving. He gave you a dramatic flex after finishing, lifting his arm a little.
With a smug look on his face, he asked, "How’s this?" "Looking good, right?" You chuckle quietly as you admire how self-assured he was about it. "Really?” You shook your head in pleased amazement and replied, "You look ridiculous... but also ridiculously good." "You could wear anything and still manage to look perfect." Jisung leaned in a little, obviously enjoying your compliment. "Of course," he answered, grinning even broadly. "I mean, I always look this good, but if a ribbon makes you smile, I’m all in."
You smiled, reaching up to adjust the ribbon playfully. "You really are full of yourself, huh?"
"Only because I know you like it," he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "I’m definitely not complaining," you said, feeling the warmth of his confidence mixed with your affection for him.
As you continued your walk together, you couldn’t help but smile at how he always knew how to make you laugh—and how, no matter the request, he would always turn it into something fun.
felix
It was a cozy evening at home, and you and Felix were in the middle of a movie marathon. The soft glow of the fairy lights you’d strung up earlier added to the intimate vibe of the night, and a bowl of popcorn sat between you on the couch. You were curled up beside him, feeling completely content as you both laughed at the random jokes and cheesy moments of the movie.
Felix, who was in a comfortable oversized hoodie and sweatpants, absentmindedly tugged his hoodie off, showing off his lean arms as he adjusted himself on the couch. You couldn't help but notice how good he looked, even in something so simple.
Then, your eyes landed on a cute ribbon you had left on the coffee table. You remembered you had bought it earlier and thought it would be fun to incorporate it into your night somehow. A mischievous idea crept into your mind.
“Hey, Lix,” you said, pausing the movie with a sly grin.
He turned his head toward you with a curious expression. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice full of warmth.
You picked up the ribbon and held it up in front of him, the light catching its soft, pastel color. “Can you do me a favor?” you asked, your tone playful.
Felix blinked and tilted his head, clearly intrigued. “What kind of favor?”
You bit your lip, trying to keep your giggles in check. “Could you tie this around your bicep? I think it’ll look really cute on you.”
Felix's eyes immediately lit up, his face breaking into an excited grin. “Wait… really?” he said, his voice practically bubbling with enthusiasm. “I’ve seen people doing this lately, and I’ve been wanting to try it! Yes! Let’s do it!”
You burst out laughing at his excitement. “I had no idea you’d be so into it.”
Felix practically bounced off the couch in excitement, reaching for the ribbon before you even finished speaking. "I’ve got to do it right, though," he said, his expression full of determination as he wrapped the ribbon carefully around his bicep, making sure it was tied perfectly. He flexed his arm as he finished, clearly pleased with the result.
He turned toward you with a proud smirk. "How’s this? Am I pulling it off?" he asked, his voice full of playful confidence.
You smiled, completely amused by how eager he was. “You look amazing,” you said, laughing. "Honestly, you’re probably the best person to wear a ribbon. It looks like you were born for it."
Felix struck a dramatic pose, flexing his arm again as if he were on a runway. “I knew it,” he said, a cocky grin on his face. “I’m a trendsetter. Always ahead of the curve.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, reaching over to adjust the ribbon slightly. “You’re so extra,” you teased, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “But you really do look good.”
Felix smiled widely, his eyes softening as he pulled you closer. You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling warm and content. “Best decision I made today,” you whispered, your heart swelling with affection for him as the movie continued to play in the background. Felix, with his ribbon and his smile, was all you needed in that moment.
seungmin
It was a quiet afternoon in the park. The weather was perfect—cool with a gentle breeze, and the soft sounds of children playing and birds chirping filled the air. You and Seungmin were sitting on a bench near a pond, enjoying the calm atmosphere. He had brought along a book, but you had found yourself distracted, leaning back and soaking in the peaceful scene around you.
As you sat beside him, your fingers absentmindedly ran through the small bag you’d brought along. That was when you noticed it—a soft, pastel ribbon you’d picked up from a craft shop earlier that week. A soft smile crept onto your face as an idea formed.
You glanced over at Seungmin, who was still quietly reading. His biceps were subtly flexing under his fitted T-shirt, and the thought of adding a cute, little accessory to them suddenly seemed like the perfect idea.
“Seung,” you began, your voice light and teasing, “can you do me a favor?”
He looked up from his book, his expression one of mild curiosity. “Hmm? What is it?” His tone was relaxed, not expecting anything unusual.
You held up the ribbon in front of him, trying to hide your excitement. “Can you tie this around your bicep?” you asked, your voice playful. “I think it’ll look cute on you.”
Seungmin blinked, clearly caught off guard. He stared at the ribbon for a moment, then looked back at you, slightly confused. “A ribbon? Around my arm?” he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “Why would I do that?”
You pouted, trying to hide your disappointment. “I just think it would be fun,” you said, a little quieter now. “You’d look cute.”
Seungmin frowned slightly, not quite sold on the idea. “It just seems... kind of silly,” he muttered, glancing at the ribbon again. “I don’t know if I want to do that.”
The playful energy you had a moment ago quickly shifted. You felt a little disappointed, even though you knew it wasn’t a big deal. You had just hoped it would be a fun moment to share, but now Seungmin seemed unsure, and you couldn’t help but feel a little deflated.
Noticing the change in your mood, Seungmin's expression softened, his gaze flicking back to you. He realized he might have come off a little too harsh, and seeing the slight sadness in your eyes, he quickly sighed, setting his book aside.
“Okay, okay,” he said, giving you a small but warm smile. “I’ll do it, but don’t expect me to wear it for long, alright?”
You perked up instantly, your smile returning. “Really?” you asked, your tone filled with excitement. “Thank you, babe!”
He rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the small smile on his face. “I don’t get why you like these kinds of silly things, but…” He grabbed the ribbon from your hand and wrapped it around his bicep with exaggerated care, making sure it was tied just right.
Once it was secure, he flexed his arm just a little, showing off the ribbon in a way that almost made you laugh. “How’s that?” he asked, his voice a mix of amusement and slight embarrassment. "You happy now?"
You couldn't stop smiling. He might have been reluctant at first, but he still looked amazing with the ribbon on his arm. “You look great,” you said with a grin, reaching out to gently adjust the ribbon. “I told you, it’s cute.”
Seungmin raised an eyebrow but couldn't suppress a laugh. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered, shaking his head. “But if it makes you happy, I guess I’ll wear it for a little while.”
You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It makes me very happy,” you said softly, your voice warm with affection. “Thank you for indulging me.” He chuckled, clearly feeling a little more at ease. As you sat together, the ribbon still around his bicep, you felt the warmth of the moment. It wasn’t just about the silly request—it was the way Seungmin always cared enough to make you happy, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone for a moment. And that made the simple gesture so much more special.
I.N
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you and Jeongin were relaxing at his place. You were lounging on the couch, enjoying the quiet, while he had been fiddling around with his phone. The windows were open, letting in the soft breeze, and the world outside seemed to slow down as you two enjoyed the calm.
You were absentmindedly scrolling through your own phone when your eyes fell on the small ribbon you’d brought with you. It was a simple, pastel blue, just the right size to fit around a bicep. A playful idea crossed your mind, and you couldn't help but smile.
"Hey, babe," you said, glancing up at him, a teasing grin on your face.
He lowered his phone and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? What’s up?” he asked, clearly curious.
You held the ribbon out between your fingers. "Can you tie this around your bicep?" you asked, your tone light and playful. "I think it’ll look cute on you."
Jeongin’s eyes lit up immediately, and a cocky grin spread across his face. He leaned back on the couch, puffing out his chest a little. "A ribbon?" he repeated, clearly liking the attention. "You want me to wear a ribbon around my bicep?"
You nodded, trying to keep your grin in check. "Yep, exactly that. I think it'd be cute, and I wanna see it on you."
He let out a small laugh, the kind that hinted he was already feeling a little too proud of himself. "Oh, so you want me to show off these bad boys, huh?" he said, flexing his biceps a little and making them bulge impressively. "I mean, I have been hitting the gym with the guys a lot lately. All those extra sets are finally paying off."
You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a smile. "Okay, we get it," you teased, giving him a playful push. "You’ve got muscles. Can you just put the ribbon on already?”
Jeongin chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention. "Oh, I’m just getting started," he said, looking down at his arms and admiring them as though he were in front of a mirror. "You know, I have been getting stronger, so now I’m basically a walking advertisement for all my hard work."
You raised an eyebrow at him. "Sure, sure," you said, amused. "Keep flexing. I just want you to tie the ribbon on so I can see how ridiculous you look with it."
Jeongin’s grin widened, and he leaned forward to take the ribbon from your hand. "Fine, I’ll humor you. But just so you know," he said as he carefully wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, making sure it was tied perfectly. "I’m not just doing this for you. It’s a chance for me to show off my gains."
You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic tone. "I can see that," you teased, playfully eyeing him as he flexed again to show off the ribbon. "Are you going to wear it like this all day, or do I have to deal with the gym bro attitude the whole time?"
He turned to face you, flexing his arm dramatically, showing off the ribbon now adorning his bicep. "You think this is a one-time thing?" he asked, clearly enjoying how ridiculous and charming he looked. "I’m about to start a new trend. Who wouldn’t want to wear a ribbon with these muscles?"
You rolled your eyes again, though there was a smile on your face. "You’re such a show-off," you said, leaning over to adjust the ribbon just slightly, your fingers grazing his skin. "But you look good, I’ll admit it."
Jeongin puffed his chest out even more, giving you a proud look. "Of course I do. You’re welcome," he said, his voice oozing confidence. "You’re lucky I’m letting you see all this muscle right now."
You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I’m lucky, huh?" you said with a playful smirk. "I’m the one who gets to see you all flexing over a ribbon, looking like a total goofball."
Jeongin just laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in. "Anything to make you smile," he said, softening a little despite the cocky attitude.
You snuggled into him, smiling. "I think you’re cute no matter what," you said, enjoying the warmth of his arm around you. "But this just makes you even more ridiculous, and I love it."
Jeongin grinned, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I’ll take that as a compliment," he said, his voice softening despite his earlier boastfulness.
—
asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!
#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#skz x y/n#skz imagines#stray kids fanfic#stray kids scenarios#stray kids reactions#stray kids soft thoughts#bang chan x reader#lee know x you#changbin x reader#hyunjin x you#felix x reader#han jisung x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#stray kids soft hours
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Night Terrors
Since reader has alr gone through their nightmare fic Astarion has to have a go too!
Summary: Astarion has a nightmare and visits your tent to get rid of it.
Astarion has always hated trancing ever since Cazador dug his claws into him. Every time he closes his eyes, flashes of grimy walls and bloodied chains flood through his mind, dragging him back to the Szarr Palace where screams constantly tear from his throat and Cazador leers over him, reminding the vampire spawn of his place.
Whenever his body forces him to trance, he feels his undead heart jump to his throat, panic seizing his chest and he always tries to force his eyes open but he can never win the battle. Darkness always consumes him in the end, and so does fear.
Tonight, he wakes up with a scream in his throat, panic rising in his chest and his clawed fingertips digging into the bedroll beneath him. If he still could sweat, his bedroll would be drenched right now, and he can still feel his hands shaking. He hates how weak he feels, how vulnerable he’s being right now and he grasps the collar of his shirt tightly, willing his clammy hands to be still. He inhales deeply despite not needing the air then shakily exhales, telling himself that he is far far away from the Szarr Palace, that he is safe with this ragtag group of weirdos who are considerate enough not to pry beyond what he tells them.
He stumbles out of his tent into the crisp night, where embers are all that’s left of the campfire and everyone is still in their tents, peacefully asleep. His feet automatically take him in the direction of your tent and before he knows it, he’s standing at the flap of your tent, debating whether or not to enter.
His fingers linger on the tent flap, playing with the edges until he works up the courage to enter. Once inside, he takes in the sight before him — you, peacefully asleep in your bedroll, curled up underneath the blanket with your mouth slightly ajar. He wonders if you know you sleep like that, so carefree, so far removed from the pressure of being a leader with saliva trickling out from the corner of your mouth and his lips quirk up into a quick smile at the thought of your reaction to such news. He watches from the entrance of your tent, ruby red eyes piercing the night as you stir slightly, rolling into a more comfortable position before resuming your restful sleep, that is until you feel someone staring at you and you wake up.
“Astarion! You scared me!”
“You don’t seem scared to me, darling,” he smiles, moving over to stand next to your bedroll.
“Why are you here?” You ask, sitting up.
“Just wanted to check how my little snack was doing,” he says lightly, a forced smile playing on his lips.
“Nightmare?” You recognise the telltale signs and open your arms, inviting him in. He hesitates at first, unsure about how much he wanted to reveal to you tonight but in the end he wordlessly nods, accepting the invitation and curls against your chest, feeling your arms gently wrap around him. He stares at a spot on the floor as you run your fingers through his hair, whispering words of sweet nothing and simply cradle him.
His fingers twitch, making their way onto your arm that’s wrapped around his waist and tentatively rest on your forearm. You continue your ministrations, pressing the occasional kiss to the top of his head and hide how your heart breaks each time you look at him. You rarely see him this broken, making you wonder what nightmare plagued him this time but you know it’s not the right time to ask, so you wait, putting his comfort over your need to know and do all you can to be there for him.
He buries his face into your chest, wanting nothing more than to wash away the thoughts plaguing his mind and your warmth helps a little. The night feels less lonely and cold when he’s curled up against you, wrapped in a cocoon of your scent and he can almost forget the reason he came here in the first place.
You slip your hand into his, feeling his fingers curl around yours as he gives your hand a squeeze, a silent thank you for taking time out of your sleep to be with him. He remains quiet, still staring at the same spot on the floor as before, unwilling to divulge anything so you continue to give him space.
“I want to forget it all.” His voice wavers, tears threatening to spill over. “But I can’t, I can’t forget anything and it keeps coming back whenever I close my eyes.”
You hum softly, gently playing with his silver-white locks. “I understand. It’s always when we close our eyes then does the darkness come out to haunt us, but it’s why we have each other. You don’t have to face it alone, I’ll always be right here to face it with you.”
He lets out a hiccup, tears streaming down his face and clutches your arm tightly. Your words always chases the darkness away, bringing him out of his spiralling mind and grounding him in reality, he really appreciates them even if he never says it. He wants you to say more, to continue wielding the magic infused into your words to drive the darkness that is enroaching on his mind once more and anxiously tugs at your shirt, hoping the action somehow conveys his need to you.
“You can stay here for the night, for as many nights as you want. My tent is always open to you, and so are my ears. You can always tell me anything, I will listen because I care, I care deeply about you.”
Astarion bites his bottom lip, feeling another wave of tears come crashing down on him and lets out a sob. He hates how weak you make him, how you always manage to coax the vulnerability out of him but you never call him out on it.
Silence falls over the both of you as you continue to cradle your hurting vampire lover, whispering how much you love him, how much you care for him as he silently cries, letting everything out. A while later his tears have all but dried up, his shoulders no longer shaking and he finally looks up at you, eyes still wet from his crying session.
“Can I —” He swallows. “Can I trance with you?”
“Of course,” you smile softly, lying back down on your bedroll and he slots himself into the space created, curling into you. You finger brushes over his cheek, lips pressing against his in a chaste kiss and he buries himself in your touch, leaning into the warmth your body emits. He loves moments like this, where you freely give whatever love he needs through your gentle touches, for it reminds him of how loved he is despite everything Cazador has drilled into him.
He cautiously puts his arms around your waist, breathing in your familiar scent and closes his eyes. He’s still nervous, but you begin rubbing circles on his back and he finds himself calming down. He trusts you to be there should he wake from his nightmares, to be there when he wakes from his trance, that you’ll never abandon him to his demons, and with that, he lets himself slip into a much needed trance.
As his eyes close, he locks gazes with you and sees the love that fills your eyes. A small smile graces his features, warmth blooming in his chest and he lets himself drift off, safe in the knowledge that when he opens his eyes again, you will be the first thing he sees.
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion bg3#baldurs gate astarion#astarion romance#astarion x durge#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion ancunin#tavstarion#durgestarion
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Nine: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, nude vids/pics, rape mentioned (somnophilia), gen. sexual content, Panic/Anxiety Attack, forced nudity [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Anakin/Ghost having thoughts?? Unselfish ones?? Luke can’t stop roasting/sassing you [diary entries from Ani] [texting/letters/notes]extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+
Diary Entry: August 10th
I think enough time has passed. I think you’re ready to see Ghost again.
I thought it would take longer for you to recover, but as always, the little fawn in you is curious as ever. Quick to forget fear and ready for the newest challenge.
You’ve responded so well to everything. I’m very proud of you.
I’ve been keeping up with my visits, still cleaning, still watching, still following and protecting.
Now that you know of Ghost, I’ve started completing my tasks. I don’t have to leave anything halfway finished, the dishes are done everyday along with the vacuuming and dusting. I even mop twice a week.
And change the cat litter, which might I add, is disgusting. (Worth it though because I love that little menace.)
I thought for sure you’d run and tell me that you didn’t think the alarms I installed weren’t working, but you didn’t, you just repeatedly tested them yourself. It was very loud, very annoying and I know you could hear the woman down the hall banging her pots and pans together to fight back with her own noise. You didn’t care though, you just wanted to make sure the alarms worked.
They do work, I wouldn’t have installed fake ones, that would be stupid. I’m all for keeping you safe so… what’s one more safety measure?
I just know that they can also be very easily disarmed. Even through the inch and a half thick wooden door to your apartment. A piece of sheet metal (credit card sized) and my handy dandy super strength magnet works like a charm.
You’re such an odd bird. You haven’t told anyone, I don’t think it’s really even crossed your mind too much either. You’ve begun to pretend the cameras aren’t even there. You just go about your normal day to day life and occasionally squint and stare at random objects.
You never actually go check them out though. Is it all for show? I think it might be.
I think you like being watched. I bet it makes you feel safe doesn’t it? Knowing I’m always there for you?
——————————————————————————
You know what the best part of all this is?
Ghost will let me love you in the way that is natural and normal to me. I just hope that you’ll be willing to accept that we are one in the same.
Ghost can comfortably do all the things that I’ve been afraid to. I didn’t want to scare you, but it really was difficult not to leave you things. I’m so glad that you brought that up in your list of questions because it gave me the opportunity to act on it without you flipping out.
Do you like them? I love leaving things for you. Especially little notes.
Ghost has been kind enough to stay out of your way when I’m around, but I can resist making you squirm occasionally. Remember when I left you a note, KNOWING I’d be coming home with you later that day?
Oh babe. It was so oddly intoxicating to see the way you reacted when I got back home and pulled up the footage. You snatched up that slip of paper didn’t read it and didn’t toss it in the trash, didn’t put it in your pocket.
You shoved it in your mouth so I wouldn’t see it. Freak.
I saw it all chewed up and gross in the bathroom trash. You didn’t read it. I know you didn’t. So I’ll have to get alittle more creative.
Don’t ignore me.
DATE
August 13th
For the third morning in a row you woke up to a text from your own cellphone number.
‘Sleep well deer?’
Idiot. Can’t even spell. So finally on this third day, you sent a text back and corrected him.
‘Dear*’
Immediately a response buzzed through.
‘No.’
No? What does he mean no?
‘Little doe. My deer. 🦌’
Oh great, so stalkers use emojis and he’s given you a nickname. How cute.
You laid back in your bed and tossed your phone aside, hands covering your face as you rubbed the sleep away.
The longer this went on, the more insane you felt. This wasn’t normal, of course it’s not normal. So why are you allowing it?
You could ask yourself that a million times and you’d never find an answer.
You could throw away every flower he brought you and they’d still keep coming. You could burn every piece of paper in the city and chew every pen until it’s broken beyond repair and he would still find a way to write you a note.
You could swallow every word he writes, throw it up, flush it, whatever. It’s just going to pop back up. Gross and soggy with an amendment attached and in your panty drawer.
You thought maybe it was an important one. So you read it. Quickly discovered it was semi-important, Ghost just wanted to remind you that he loved you and he was proud of you for continuing to drink your tea even though you knew it was drugged. Once you’re out of it, he’s going to set the pills out next to your birth control. So he ‘doesn’t have to fool with measurements anymore’.
The addendum to the note was tucked inside the original:
‘Good girls swallow.’
You could ignore the trinkets, the jewelry or the pretty stones and shells. But he would just move them to a different spot and force you to eventually set it in your jewelry box along with all the others.
He’s not been bold enough to come around with Anakin in your home. The nights that Anakin sleeps over, there are no gifts, no cleaning done. No disturbances.
But Anakin doesn’t deter him completely.
He’s left you one note at Anakin’s apartment, the first time you’d slept away from your own home in ages. Ghost had the audacity to slip a note into the pocket of your shorts while you slept in the same bed as Anakin in his apartment.
It didn’t say anything, no words, just a heart in red ink. Like he just wanted to remind you that he was there and you were his whether you wanted to be or not. Anakin or no Anakin, Ghost didn’t care.
It’s been horrible lying… omitting the truth to Anakin. Sometimes you feel like blurting it out, but something always stops you. Morbid curiosity maybe. Or maybe you just like the thrill of it, that little shiver of adrenaline you get every time he makes himself known.
It would all stop if you told Anakin. Neither would quit until he’d hunted the other man down and gotten rid of him.
They’d kill each other.
——————————————————————————
Anakin worked tonight, so you had plans to meet up with Luke (sans his pet leech) for a late evening dinner. As much as you loved Han and appreciated everything he did for Luke, how happy he made him, you really just wanted some time alone with your best friend.
So you were thrilled to receive a text around 1:00pm from Luke:
‘Don’t be late. I’m dying to catch up babe.’
You quickly opened the message but before you finished typing, a voice message popped up in your notifications, sent from your number.
You abandoned the chat with Luke and opted to open the voice message instead.
‘I’m coming home.’ then a long pause, ‘have fun with Lukey.’
That scratchy filtered voice; you’d yet to hear it over the phone and this being the first time… it sent you right back to the very first time you watched Scream. That icy chill that snuck up the back of your neck, the tightening of your chest… you felt it now, just not because of fear.
You felt it because you were excited.
——————————————————————————
“Okay, seriously what do you keep looking at?” Luke prodded, snatching your phone and sliding it into his jacket pocket.
“Nothing it’s just-“
“My phone is on ‘do no disturb’, because I have missed my buddy, my pal, my best friend.” He paused, his pointer finger jabbing the table between your plate and his.
“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I haven’t even unlocked it! It’s just sitting there.”
“True, but the obnoxious tapping to check whatever it is you’re hoping for is getting annoying.” Honesty, brutal or not, was Luke’s love language.
“Fine. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in my pocket.” You agreed, holding your hand out palm up.
“No ma’am. This is mine until the check comes.” His answer was definitive, no room for argument there. “What’s so important anyway? I know Anakin is at work.”
“It’s just work stuff.” You huffed.
“Oh? What’s so pressing at the diner?” He scoffed, “got a big shipment of ketchup coming in? Are you ‘on call’?”
“Luke.” You rolled your eyes at his jab. “No and yes. I am ‘on call’ actually. Sara’s son has been sick.’
Not a total lie, he has been sick. Poor guy. But her husband was home with him and he was being well looked after.
“Okay? That’s your problem how?”
“God you’re so negative sometimes.” You sighed. “Her babysitter hates vomit. If he throws up Sara will have to go home.”
“Ew.” He scrunched up his nose. “I’m eating.”
“Okay? That’s my problem how?” You said mockingly.
“Really? Like for real that’s why you keep checking your phone?”
“Yes really.” Giving him a look that screamed duh’. “Her baby sitter is the 14 year old girl that lives next door to her. Do you really suggest leaving a 14 year old in charge of a vomiting 2 year old? When that 14 year old is disgusted by puke? That’s a recipe for disaster.”
It would be a disaster, her sitter is 14. She just happens to be on vacation with her mother right now. Hence the temporary stay at home husband.
“Okay, first of all, 14? Isn’t that alittle young?”
“No? I started babysitting when I was 12.” You shrugged.
“Fine.” Luke sighed. “Here.”
He slid your phone back to you and propped his chin up on his fist. Watching you check it one last time before turning on the sound and putting it in your back pocket.
——————————————————————————
‘I’m walking home now!’
You shot off the text to Anakin after saying your goodbye to Luke at the restaurant. You’d refused his offer to walk you home, you didn’t want him anywhere near your apartment building knowing that Ghost would be there.
Six minutes later he replied:
‘Good girl.🥰 let me know when you get there safe.’
‘Will do💕’
And you did, the moment you stood outside your apartment door.
‘Made it! See you tomorrow💕’
You waited in the hall to receive his response. You didn’t know what would be waiting for you on the other side of this door, and you didn’t want to chance it.
‘Perfect. Sweet dreams doll!’
Your hand poised at the door knob, you inserted your key to discover your door was already unlocked. You very slowly opened the door, but saw no one in your kitchen or living room.
But your bedroom door was closed, boogie hadn’t meowed as loudly as possible and sprinted to you, demanding to be fed. He did say that they were good friends. So they both must be in your room.
Would it be wise to lock your door? The few precious seconds leaving it unlocked would save if you needed to run… no, no. Just lock it. Doorknob. Deadbolt. Chain.
‘Just stay calm’
You kicked off your shoes and tossed your bag to the floor, walking quietly across the carpeted living room to pause in front of your bedroom. A soft yellow glow shone beneath the door, your lamp must be on. You could hear your tv playing something, not quite sure what it was, but it had the all too familiar cadence of a horror flick.
The audacity of this man astounded you.
When you pushed open the door, he was laying in your bed, shoes off, legs crossed at the ankles, propped against the headboard, arms behind his head. He looked like he belonged there. As big a contrast as it was… your soft, pink, feminine room and him. All black, the mask. He just looked so comfortable.
Your cat, the little traitor, was curled up on his chest. It was kind of sweet. How could such an inherently terrifying scenario seem so normal?
Ever so casually he tilted his head toward you, his right hand raising from its relaxed position to lazily give you gloved finger waggle for a wave.
“Have fun?” The filtered voice drifted over to you.
“Yes.” You answered quietly, glued to the spot.
“Are you just going to stand there?” He laughed. “I would come pick you up, but it’s illegal to move a sleeping cat.” He gestured to boogie who had still not moved from her human pillow.
You couldn’t help but laugh, eyebrows raised in an expression of awe filled shock. This was too weird. Too normal. Too scarily alluring.
Yet you found yourself at the edge of the bed, not really knowing how you got there to begin with.
“Sat you some pajamas out.” He said dismissively, the mask fixed onto the tv screen. “Figured you’d wanna change.”
“Huh.” You snorted, seeing that he had.
You expected to see one of your lacy lingerie sets. But he’d chosen something much more modest that you would’ve ever imagined. Loose, thin, stretchy fabric pajama pants, the matching cropped tank top, and fuzzy socks.
“Um. Thanks?” You said awkwardly, picking them up and turning on your heels to change in the bathroom.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He chuckled.
“To the bathroom?” You scoffed, looking over your shoulder at him.
“You can change in here.” He wasn’t offering. He was telling you.
“No way.” You shook your head. “No I’m not-“
“C’mon little doe.” The filtered voice left little room for change in tone, but you could tell from his body language that it was a challenge.
“Ghost. No! I have Anakin I don’t-.”
He laughed. “I don’t care.”
“Well I do.”
“Mmm… not enough. You’re letting me be here. You didn’t tell him. You didn’t mention me to anyone at all actually.” He pointed out.
“Well that’s not-“
“Hush.” He snapped, making you stall. “I’ve seen that pretty little body of yours plenty of times. What’s one more?”
“But-“ your face was so red hot that you could feel the heat spreading down your neck.
“What? I’m not gonna get up.” He said plainly. “I’m comfy right here where I can watch you.”
“I don’t… this isn’t right.”
“Don’t pull that bullshit with me.” He scoffed. “Nothing about this is ‘right’. But you’re letting it happen, yeah?” He said and got just a nod from you in response.
“That’s it.” He moved his arm to point two fingers at you, “get on with it sweetheart. I wanna see my girl.”
“I’m not your-“
“You were mine first.” He snapped.
“Well, that’s not very fair.” Your voice shaking. “I didn’t even know you were…. I didn’t know about you!”
“That might be true.” He growled, “but it’s your fault for being so ignorant.”
“I-I don’t…” you felt like you were on the verge of a tantrum. This man was outrageous, coming into your home uninvited, being a fucking perv, acting like he owns the place, and now he’s calling you ignorant?
“Do you realize how stupid it is for you to argue with me about the morality of all this?” He asked, going back to his former relaxed state.
“You. Are allowing me to be here. You had all day to call the cops if you wanted to. But you didn’t.” That smug little bastard laughed. “I’ve been here for over two hours. You knew I’d be here when you got back.”
“That’s not-“
“I’m not finished.” He held up a finger and silenced you. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine and you will continue to be mine.”
“I don’t care that you are pretending to be appalled by the situation you are in.” His voice was even and unyielding, he was so confident in his statements.
“You know why I don’t care?” He asked, tilting his head toward you condescension oozing from every pore.
“Why?” You squeaked.
“Because I know, without a doubt, that if I were to stick my hand down your pretty pink panties; you’d be wet right now.”
How did he know what color your underwear is? Better question: why is that the first thing you thought of when there were much more pressing matters at hand?
“That’s not true.” Your voice sounded hollow.
“It’s not?” He laughed. “Show me then.”
“What?” You whispered, eyes bugging out of your head.
“Do it. Prove to me that you’re not soaked.” He snickered.
“That’s not fair you can’t just-“
“You’re not running are you? You haven’t said no, you haven’t come over here and smacked me.” He interrupted.
You stood there with your jaw dropped, you needed a dustpan and broom to sweep up your shattered facade of denial. How could you dispute that?
“Fine!” You shouted. “Fine. I’ll just change in here.”
“Don’t raise your voice at me.” He growled. “You’re awfully bold for a spoiled brat.”
“I am not a-“
“When will you stop disagreeing with me?” He laughed. “You know it’s true. I’ve spoiled you so much that you’ve rotted to your core. You weren’t always a brat, but you are now. You like being spoiled don’t you? Being taken care of, being treated like a princess?”
“Your little boyfriend does the same thing doesn’t he?” He snickered. “Spoiled. Brat.”
“You’re just a little girl who needs a man to hold her hand.”
“You’re being mean.” You whispered, your voice breaking.
“The truth is hard to hear isn’t it little doe?” He said, his voice going back to its nonchalant, flat tone.
You couldn’t argue. He’d been right about everything and it’s difficult to argue with someone who throws fact after fact at you like he’s doing. So you took a deep breath and closed your bedroom door.
“Atta girl.” He nodded. “Show me.”
So you did, you turned around and began undressing, you could feel his eyes on you, soaking up the display you were crafting for him.
“Turn around.” His voice alittle quieter, the voice box crackling.
Slowly you complied, swallowing your fear and embarrassment. You kept your eyes closed, it made you feel the slightest bit better, I’m the way a kid would think ‘I can’t see you so you can’t see me’.
“Gorgeous.” He breathed out.
Behind your eyelids you swear you noticed a change in lighting, briefly, but enough to take note of. Your eyes snapped open and saw him holding up his phone.
He’d taken a picture of you.
“Ghost, no! Delete that right now!” You squealed, quickly getting dressed in your fresh pajamas.
“Cool it.” He waved you off. “Just gonna add it to my special folder just for you. See?” He turned his screen toward you and you inched forward.
He wasn’t lying. He scrolled through over one hundred images and videos, some of you in public, some nude, some of you sleeping. All in a folder titled ‘little doe’.
“These are for me.” He said simply. “They’re not going anywhere so don’t worry about that.”
“But these…” he turned the screen back to himself and tapped twice, scrolled and then tapped again before flipping it around.
The images in front of you made you nauseous.
You, spread legs and wet cunt, up close.
You with your hand being held up by Ghost, your fingers buried deeply between your folds.
A short video of your pussy being lovingly stroking by a leather glove. Another of one long digit pumping into you slowly.
A picture of your lips wrapped around his cock.
“S-so you did… you did touch me?” You recoiled.
“No.” He said flatly, before you could protest he laughed.
“You loved it.” He snickered. “Never let you cum. I wanted you to be needy for me.”
“Until… until I saw you.” You whispered.
“Mhm, that’s right.” He nodded. “Took care of your poor swollen pussy properly that time.” He cooed, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
“You’re sick.” You breathed out. “That’s disgusting… you-“
“Call the cops.” He said gesturing to your phone laying on the bed.
“What?”
“You heard me. Call ‘em.” He snorted. “If I’m so sick and disgusting and you’re soooo horrified by my actions; call the cops. I’ll wait right here.”
“Are you gonna send those to Anakin?” Your voice wobbled as you ignored his challenge. You both knew you wouldn’t call.
“Not if you’re good.”
“Are you gonna hurt him?” You asked quietly.
“Now why would I do a thing like that?” He scoffed. “I want you all to myself, but I want you to choose me. I’m not gonna go all Dexter on your boyfriend.”
“You promise?” You sniffled. “Swear it?”
“Pinky swear.” He said confidently, holding out his hand with his little finger raised.
For some reason you took it. You believed him. He hadn’t gotten up and forced you to do anything, he stayed right there the whole time. He had yet to share those pictures with Anakin. A million other twisted reasons you’d started to accept that this was becoming a new normal. A thousand other things that pushed you to believe him.
He’d only bruised your self image with his cold, hard truths about you. That’s not a crime. That’s a reality check.
“Good choice little doe!” You could practically hear the beaming smile on his face behind the plastic mask.
“Now come up here.” He patted the spot next to him. “I don’t like seeing you upset, I’m sorry.”
He was apologizing? He was apologizing.
“You’re sorry?” You repeated in shock.
“Of course I’m sorry. You’re on the verge of tears and I’ve caused it.” He said, holding out his hand palm up for you to take.
“I’m not a monster.”
You hesitated before accepting his hand and climbing into bed beside him. You sat a safe distance from him at first but he lolled his head to the side in what you assumed was a dramatic eye roll and tugged you to his side in a one armed swoop.
The action had you frozen. This was it. He was gonna hurt you. You’d been naive and stupid and he was going to violate you, this time while you were conscious, you’d remember it this time.
“Relax.” He soothed, tucking you comfortably against his side, his bicep behind your head as a pillow and his gloved hand on your side in a way that was almost comforting. “I mean it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You whispered, what the fuck is happening?
“No, it’s not okay. I could’ve been more gentle with my words.” His opposite hand rubbing his knuckles across your cheek lovingly.
You were quiet for a moment, debating on the course of action you should take. You were in fact very much allowing this to occur. Would it be so horrible to try and enjoy it? He was warm. He smelled nice and familiar, the cologne… you must have a subtle memory of it from all the times he’d been here while you slept. He was comfortable. He was surprisingly kind.
What’s the worst that could happen?
“Before you get comfy.” He spoke quietly, the voice box crackling from his low voice, “you didn’t take your pill.”
“Oh yeah you’re right.” You moved to get up, pink cheeked because once again he proved that you were in fact helpless without him.
“Don’t get up, I have it right here.” He chuckled, reaching over to the nightstand and handing you the pill packet and a thermos. “Tea.”
“Huh.” You stared at him. Gods this was so fucking weird. “Well… wow okay.” You huffed out a laugh and took your medicine with a sip of your tea.
“Tastes different.” You said, handing the packet back to him.
“Mhm. Yeah I poisoned it.” He said nonchalantly, making you almost choked on your second sip.
“You what?” You shrieked, waking up the cat who bolted from his lap.
“Aw look what you did,” he groaned gesturing to the empty space with a few stray cat hairs.
“You- are you serious?” You started to almost hyperventilate. “Should I make myself throw up?”
Why are you asked the man who poisoned you that? Like he’d tell you.
“No, that would be a waste of good tea.” He snorted. “I put cinnamon in it you idiot.”
“What?”
“Cinnamon.” He repeated. “It’s just cinnamon. It was a joke.”
“That’s not fucking funny!” You shouted, smacking his shoulder.
“Ive already told you once.” His hand shot out and grabbed your jaw firmly. “Do not. Raise. Your voice. At me.” He growled.
“I believe you meant to say ‘ha-ha, ghost that was funny. you got me!’” He snickered and released your jaw, soothing you with his hand now gently raking through your hair.
You were stunned. Absolutely shook by his quick turnaround, this should be terrifying. This man can be so gentle one moment and the next he’s speaking to you like he’s ordering you to lay down at the guillotine. It wasn’t terrifying in the right way. Not the type of fear you should be feeling at his unpredictable actions.
You weren’t scared of him at all. But yourself? Yes. Who is this girl? Why is she… why do you like this? It’s scary because you’re not scared. It’s horrifying because you want more. It’s terrifying because you’re morbidly curious about what he’d do if you acted out again.
You shook your head and picked your jaw off the floor, deciding the best course of action was to just tuck yourself back under his arm and watch whatever movie he had paused when you entered the room.
Might as well. You’ve already come this far.
Date
August 14th
When you woke up the next morning Ghost was gone. Your home was devoid of any trace of him, no note, no gift, no messages. Nothing.
He had hardly moved while you sat with him, the only consistent movement was the gentle twist and twirl of one long lock of your hair around his finger. It was repetitive and soothing, just like the calming rise and fall of his chest.
How could he be so calm? So off guard?
You could’ve turned on him at any moment. Ripped off his mask and saw who he was, grabbed your lamp and wacked him with it. Punched him in the nuts and ran.
But, to be fair, he could’ve done the same to you. Yet you stayed there, albeit anxious and on high alert for majority of the time spent with him. Despite the fact that you knew he carried a weapon, even though you were well aware of what he’d been doing to you all this time, even after he’d manhandled your face when you smarted off to him.
It must be a twisted form of mutual trust.
Or you might just be delusional.
Either way, it was wrong and you knew that. You intentionally got naked in front of another man, while he laid on the bed your boyfriend so sweetly makes love to you in. You fell asleep in the arms of this man. Not just *any* other man, the one who has been stalking you relentlessly for months.
You’ve cheated on Anakin. If he knew, it would crush him. It would break apart his big, soft, velveteen heart. Your betrayal would rip a hole right through the middle and slice up the fabric so badly it couldn’t be sewn back up without ending up smaller, weaker, and deformed.
What could you do? Was there anything to do? Telling him to his face… the thought of it soured your stomach so badly you thought you might form an ulcer.
Telling Ghost to fuck off and leave you alone wasn’t an option either. No matter what you did, the precautions you put in place; he would find you. Not only would he find you, but he wouldn’t allow Anakin the privilege of breathing anymore.
You couldn’t tell Luke. He’d lecture you until your ears bled while he dragged you to the nearest police station. Then Luke would be in danger, Anakin would know, and Ghost would still be your problem. And if Luke didn’t believe you, he’d ship you off to the long term care loony bin.
Your sister? Of course you couldn’t tell her either. She has her own family. Ghost already knows where she lives, he’s told you so.
He knows everything about you. Your family tree, your friends list, your schedule, your medical information, banking account, he has complete access to your home, your phone…
You are a canary in a cage and he is a cat pawing at you through the metal bars.
It’s only a matter of time before one of those claws nicks you. A feather or two might come loose, open up a weak spot on your frail body. The next swipe might draw blood, maybe it won’t. Or maybe he’ll be lucky enough to bat you to the bottom of the cage.
It’s hard enough to escape when there’s someone always watching. When there’s a lock on the door. But to attempt to flee with broken wings? You couldn’t hobble your way to safety anyway. Bird cages don’t have doors at the bottom, they’re halfway up. They don’t have horizontal bars. You can’t climb.
You are stuck.
It’s up to you if you want to be trapped there intact, or if you’d rather wallow at the bottom in pain.
——————————————————————————
Maybe you should just break up with Anakin.
Ghost said he wouldn’t hurt him, but how long will that last? How long until he gets tired of waiting? Should you ask Ghost again? Just to make sure? Make him sign a fucking contract?
Maybe it would be best if-
“Sweetheart?” Anakin whispered softly, waving his hand in front of your face. “What’s going on? I’ve been standing here for almost a minute.”
Anakin was here.
“What?” You whispered back, suddenly overwhelmingly aware of your surroundings.
The diner. You were at The Bluebird. You were working. A glance to the clock told you that you’d been here for over two hours, a quick scan of the tables and the counter proved that you hadn’t neglected any customers. Your notepad and pen were in your hand, there was money in the tip jar.
Anakin was here.
“Hey, c’mere.” His voice soft and concerned.
He gently took the pad and pen from your hands, put an arm around your shoulder and held your hand as he led you through the kitchen. Not an uncommon occurrence, Anakin was well known to everyone at the Bluebird due to his frequent visits to see you. He often walked with you out through the kitchen to sit on the curb with you while you took a break and he smoked a cigarette.
“Vigo, I’m taking her out back.” He said quietly, speaking to the dishwasher.
“I was about to call you man.” He spoke back in a hushed voice. “She’s been actin’ like that since she got here.”
“Yeah? Well next time don’t wait to call.” Anakin grumbled, scowling at your coworker.
The heat of the afternoon sun soothed over your skin, making you painfully aware of the cold sweat lacing the back of your neck. You blinked and it felt like it was the first time you’d closed your eyes in hours. Your mouth was dry, your teeth felt cold and your brain might’ve been better described as soup.
Anakin sat down on the curb and pulled you down with him. Placing you sideways between his legs, your arms immediately threw themselves around his neck and you curled up into him.
“Jesus baby.” He whispered, the wind getting knocked out of him at your aggressive tackle.
“An-” You started to sob before you even finished his name.
“W-what’s wrong?” You could feel his heart beat quicken beneath you, hear it pounding in his chest. He was feeling real, true panic.
“Hey, hey talk to me. Breathe.” He tried to soothe you by petting your hair, rocking you gently, kissing your forehead… anything, anything he could think of and nothing was working.
You were sobbing so loudly that Anakin was glad there wasn’t a back parking lot. If someone wanted to see where this horrible wailing was coming from they’d have to walk all the way around back, thankfully most people didn’t care enough to do such a thing.
Unfortunately though, your coworkers did care.
The back door creaked open and you could hardly hear the conversation over your own tears.
“Anakin!” Vigo whisper shouted. “What the fuck did you do to her?”
“What do you mean? I didn’t do this!” His voice angrily gritting through his teeth. “What happened today?”
“Nothin’ man! I dunno!” Vigo squeaked raising up his hands in surrender. “She just clocked in like that, no cryin’ though. She’s hardly said a word.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t call me!” Anakin grunted, “I’m her emergency contact for a reason you idiot.”
“Hey? Don’t get mad at me!” Vigo scoffed. “I figured she was in a funk because of you, why would I call if I thought it was boyfriend troubles?”
“Jesus- did you even ask her?”
“What?”
“Oh my fuckin’-“ Anakin took a breath to regulate himself, one arm firmly holding you while the other was wildly gesturing as he spoke. “Did you ask her what was wrong?”
“No?”
“Are you stupid? God just fuck- go back inside before you end up crying on the ground too.” He snapped at him, huffing as the back door shut behind a quickly retreating Vigo.
“Sorry baby, I’m sorry,” He whispered, petting your head and squeezing you tightly. “I’m sorry, that probably didn’t help did it?”
“N-not really.” You hiccuped out a laugh.
“She speaks.” He gasped, “want me to yell at him some more? I’ll do it just say the word-“
“Anakin-“ you snorted, wiping your eyes and nose on his shirt. “Aw shit sorry.”
“You think I’m worried about alittle snot?” He scoffed, “Sweetheart, I’d lick it out of your nose like a cow if you’d let me. C’mere I’ll prove it.”
He stuck out his tongue and flicked it at you, chasing your face as you squirmed away from him. Despite to horrible ache in your lungs and the scratchy feeling in your throat, Anakin had a way of making everything better. Even if it was accomplished by making a fool of himself.
You laughed in spite of trying to catch your breath, fighting those awkward stalled inhales with a the goofy little giggle only he could force out of you. He relented finally when you gave up struggling, opting for a kiss on the tip of your nose rather than his tongue up your nostril.
“Wanna talk to me now?” He asked quietly, his playful attitude tucked away and replaced with seriousness.
“I don’t know Ani.” You sighed, feeling horribly conflicted. “I just want to go home.”
“Then I’ll take you home.” He said, not leaving room for argument. “But I’m not letting you get up until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Please? Please I don’t wanna talk about it.” Your eyes already filling back up with tears.
“It’s nothing really! It’s okay.” You pleaded with him, “I’m just… I’ve been thinking about a lot of stuff and it’s all overwhelming.”
“That’s not okay, don’t say it’s okay. You just wailed like a banshee.” He said sternly. “Talk, let me help.”
“I just feel like I’m losing my mind.” You scoffed, “Im going nuts. I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it without you thinking I’m insane.”
“Princess.” He said, his voice cracking with pain. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”
“W-what if hypothetically…” you whispered. “It’s only hypothetical okay?”
“Okay. Imaginary scenario, let’s hear it.” He nodded solemnly.
“Hypothetically, if I was having… nightmares of someone being in my house. What would you say.” You whispered.
“Hypothetical nightmares?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. “Well… I’d suggest that maybe you… go to therapy? See if you can find the root of the problem.”
Therapy? To find the root of the problem? That would work if you didn’t already know where to find the problem: in your apartment at any given moment. Hell, he was probably there right now.
“Are you having these dreams because of that night at the bar?” He asked softly, tucking loose hairs behind your ear. “You know we didn’t see anyone put anything in your drink. No one left at the same time as you but your friends.”
“Now like I said before, just because we didn’t see it on camera… it doesn’t mean that no one slipped something in your drink. Stuff like that unfortunately happens all the time.” He sighed.
“I know.” You nodded, your eyes wet and sad, you knew you weren’t drugged there. You were drugged in the security of your own home. “I know, I think maybe I was just alittle more tipsy than I thought I don’t-“
“Hey, no… it’s okay.” He soothed you. “I believe you.”
“But there was no one who followed you home from the bar. I can say that with 100% certainty okay?” He said sternly.
“Ani but-“
“Look at me.” He said sharply, his voice turning soft again immediately after. “No one followed you home. I watched that video a hundred times over from every angle possible. No one else left the bar until about 17 minutes after you and your friends left.”
“Now don’t get upset baby okay? Listen I know, I know that it scared you shitless.” He said in a pained way, his face not quite matching his tone of voice like he was having a hard time trying to decide how to respond.
“Which is perfectly valid. It’s totally okay to be terrified if you saw something like that.” He soothed you, squeezing your upper arms. “I’m not saying it didn’t happen, I would never say that. If you say that you saw something, I believe you.”
“But, just because you saw it… doesn’t mean that it was truly there. Those kind of drugs can really fuck with your head baby.” He said gently.
“I know.” You sniffled, wiping your eyes and hiding against his chest again.
Gods… this man. He really was one of a kind, not just any man or person in general for that matter, would respond so well to such a strange temporary delusion. Your past boyfriends would’ve run for the hills. But not Anakin. It was clear he wasn’t deterred easily, he was your personal emotional support pet leech.
It was strange, feeling so comfortable like this with someone you hadn’t known for very long. After this conversation you thought maybe it would be okay to tell Anakin the truth about it all. He’d handle it perfectly well wouldn’t he?
But, you can’t risk putting him in harms way. You wouldn’t know if Anakin would be safe without first speaking to Ghost. If Anakin was your pet leech… Ghost was the the neighborhood street dog who’d decided your porch was the safest place to sleep. Who would be heartless enough to kick the poor thing out without a proper meal first?
That’s the problem with strays. Give them a scrap and they’ll love you for life.
Diary Entry: August 14th
Jesus baby I’m sorry. I thought things went well last night, I didn’t mean to make you so upset. I really didn’t. I guess you weren’t ready to see Ghost after all.
That’s my fault, I apologize. I should have known better.
It’s just… you seemed kind of excited for it you know? I thought we had a good time. Was the stripping down in front of me what freaked you out so much? Or seeing the pictures? I shouldn’t have done that. I really shouldn’t have, that was too far, too fast.
I see now that I made a mistake and I plan to rectify it as soon as possible. I’m going to give you a choice, one that I really don’t want to give you. But I will for the sake of your sanity.
I’ve been selfish for too long.
I’ve not truly considered your feelings on the situation, I’ve taken your response at face value and never attempted to dig farther than that. It won’t happen again I can assure you of that. Ghost will still be Ghost, but perhaps just a bit more considerate of your opinions and boundaries.
You must understand though, it’s hard to deal with this for me too. I know it’s not fair to compare our separate sides of the situation like this, but it’s true. It’s painful to watch you get so upset over something I’ve done, knowing I can’t really resolve the issue. I don’t know how to help, or fix this.
I’ve dug myself into a hole. A Pit if you will.
How could you ever forgive me now? After all this time that I have been so stupidly self-centered… I imagine it would be unlikely that you could find it in your immensely kind soul to forgive and forget my transgressions.
Maybe not though? I do see you as a godly entity, my own personal deity. If I leave enough at the altar, bow at your feet for long enough, serve you unconditionally… maybe then you would see that I have discovered the error of my ways. You could see that I am truthful in my pursuit of repentance.
Date
August 15th
Anakin drove to the opposite side of the city to purchase your apology gifts from Ghost. He knew well enough that Luke never had a set schedule, Han was always at the gym and you were at book club. There was limited space in time and even smaller proximity of location for him to safely collect the supplies he needed.
If someone saw him buying a dozen red roses and told you about it without his knowledge… well there goes Ghost. It’d be real hard to explain that away.
So he went to the florist, chose the most beautiful bouquet he could find and tucked it away in a large brown bag with tissue paper over the top so he wouldn’t accidentally bruise the petals.
He strolled down the side walk to another small mom and pop store, just to browse through stationary and cards. Ghost needs to be alittle more classy in his opinion. Maybe if his notes are on nice paper and written in plain black ink… that could ease the discomfort of it. It’s probably not super welcoming to find a ripped scrap of paper with red ink scrawled on it now that he’s come to think of it.
It was amusing to him before, but after your display of emotion, he’s feeling guilty. Very, very guilty. There was no reason to go the extra mile on stupid little things like that.
So, pretty grey paper and matching envelopes join the bouquet.
Now he just has to find something else. It can’t be chocolate or something generic. It has to be something meaningful. Something thoughtful to solidify the sentiment behind his offer for you. Something that will push you to make the right decision.
——————————————————————————
Anakin walked into your apartment, and went straight to your bedroom, it was time for Ghost to set up his apology present.
The big red bouquet was carefully placed in the center of your bed along with the pretty stationary propped against it. Your name carefully and neatly written in **black ink** on the envelope.
Your other gift, had turned into two. A small black box accompanying a short and squat black gift bag with grey tissue paper.
He was proud of his staged display, so proud that he couldn’t wait for you to see it. He was itching for you to get home, he needed to know what you’d choose. He was dying to see your pretty face light up with joy at his thoughtfulness.
So against his better judgement, he snapped a picture of himself standing at your bedside. The photo taken from a high angle to capture just the corner of your red rose bouquet, with himself taking up majority of the frame. His mask tilted to the side and his free hand held up a gloved peace sign.
He’d wait to send it.
He wanted to see your face when the message came through.
Anakin was prepared to be patient, but he didn’t have to be patient for long. He got the notification that there was movement out front of the building, he pulled up the live feed from the stairwell camera on his laptop and excitedly jolted up out of his seat before sitting back down quickly to scoot his seat back up to the table.
He rubbed his hands together and practically combusted from the inside when he confirmed it was you. His fingers moved quickly to send the text message and just as he thought you would, you paused and pulled your phone from your hoodie pocket.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a bit of panic and maybe a bit of excitement. But mostly, Anakin was saddened to see fear. You were scared, but so brave as he watched you sprint up the steps. He shook his head and let out a deep breath, pulling up the split screen of all the cameras in your home.
You burst through the front door and slammed it shut, tossing your bag aside. Anakin turned up the volume just a bit and immediately realized that was a mistake because you yelled directly underneath the kitchen camera. The audio crackled as you shouted out for Ghost, Anakin realized then that you must think he’s still inside your home.
‘Just missed me.’ He texted quickly, watching you check your phone quickly and let out a sigh of relief as you muttered under your breath.
He thought you might text back, but why would you when you knew he was watching at that very moment?
“Hey!” You said, spinning in place, your eyes darting around to scan the room. “Where did you go? I didn’t see you!”
You rushed over to the living room window and down to the alley below, then up the fire escape, your gaze traveling over to the next building’s roof.
‘You won’t see me unless I want you to.’ He texted back.
“Jesus.” You muttered, rubbing your wrist anxiously. “I guess you want me to go to my room huh?”
‘Yes please.’
“Fine.” You sighed, kicking off your shoes as you walked over to the bedroom door, flinging it open quickly just incase he was still hiding out.
Your eyes drew to the center of your bed, the roses, the bag and box, the envelope. If the situation weren’t so strange you might consider this a romantic gesture. But it’s not, it’s not romantic and you shouldn’t want to open the gifts and sniff the pretty, sweet smelling flowers. You should want to call the police and have them haul the shit off for evidence.
“What’s all this for?” You asked alittle quieter than before, holding up your phone to read the text as it came through almost instantly as you knew that it would.
‘Letter.’
“Letter? That’s all?” You scoffed, “you did all this for a letter?”
‘It’s important.’ The response came quickly, followed by a second in rapid succession. ‘Gifts first.’
“Okay… alright. Gifts first.” You sighed, pulling your hand back from where it was inches away from the grey envelope.
The small box seemed like a good first thing to open, easy enough to snap shut if you didn’t like what you saw inside. Tentatively shifting the lid back and forth you wiggled it free and lifted the small square of padding to reveal a very nice, very ornate, obviously hand crafted hair-pin with a silver rod for the pin.
You gingerly lifted it from the box and held it in your hand to examine it, walking over to the window to open the curtains and see it more clearly. Smooth, black ceramic, gorgeously curved and curled silver fittings. But the most intriguing, the most breathtaking part of it, was the delicate lines and the daintily carved cameo in the center of the ceramic oval.
A woman standing under a willow, with a fawn at her feet.
You wanted to hate it, but how could you hate something so beautiful? How could you pretend to be unappreciative of something that clearly took time and effort to find, it wasn’t just vintage, it was antique. The fact that he’d searched for and seized the jewelry was a feat in itself.
You gingerly laid it back in its box, almost too afraid to hold it. Afraid of its fragility, afraid of what it stood for, how it made you feel. The tiny claws of emotion ripping at your throat stole your voice, you could only hope that Ghost couldn’t see your face from where you were standing or he would clearly see what he’d stirred up inside you.
You picked up the small bag and lifted the tissue paper gently, hoping it wasn’t another emotionally draining surprise.
It wasn’t draining, but it sure as hell was a surprise.
“What’s this?” You snorted, turning the bag over and dumping out a few cat toys.
You waited, checking your phone periodically but got no response. You knew he was still watching, so why wasn’t he answering? Sighing you shook your head and opted to take a look at the toys.
A felt kicker toy shaped as a bloody knife. A couple of fluffy spiders, eyeballs with bells inside, and a little vampire bat that was almost too cute to be a cat toy.
“Thanks.” You said quietly.
It was infuriating how well he knew you, he knew how to crawl into your brain and make you want more. How could you not when he did things like this? Thoughtful, well planned gifts, including your pet too. He knew that your cat was your baby and he’d taken the time to befriend her, cared about her enough to buy her things.
It made it all the more irritating that his choice of toys was just alittle funny. But you’d die before you admit that seeing the knife made you crack a grin.
Finally you decided it was time to open the envelope, as soon as you did, you understood why he’d asked you to open the gifts first.
LETTER
Little Doe,
I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. The hurt I saw, the words heard… I felt it in my soul when I watched you crumble.
My purpose is to love you, my job is to keep you safe, my goal is to make you happy. I’m only doing one of those things, it’s selfish of me to love you the way that I do. I know that.
What I’ve done is wrong, I’m aware. I can’t justify or explain it to you. Just know that the long and short of it is love, it’s not a normal love, but it’s mine and I’m giving it all to you.
There’s no way you’d understand the lengths I’d go to, the things I would do for you. You’d never comprehend how deeply I adore you. That’s okay. It’s hard for me to understand myself too.
The hairpin, it’s the goddess of the hunt and her fawn. I thought considering it all, it would be more than suitable for our situation.
You’re a saint, a deity, someone worth the labors of worship.
Goddesses aren’t meant to be touched, held, loved corporally. They’re meant to be imagined, a comforting presence that you feel all around you, bowed to in hopes of receiving grace. I’ve tried to go beyond the altar to reach you and for that I’m truly sorry.
Please, please take my offerings.
I love you, I need you, but I don’t deserve you. No one deserves attention from the heavens, especially not me. But if you are listening, if you’re willing, I’ll try my best to be the perfect follower.
So I’ll ask for a boon from my goddess:
Grant me passage on the road to repentance, or take my hand to walk through the valley.
You sat on your bed in silence for a long while, your cat coming to join you and accept the gifts left for her excitedly. It brought you a moment of peace to watch her waller around and smack the eyeballs across the floor.
So the overwhelming weight of the thin grey sheet of paper in your hand felt even heavier when she scampered off with her brand new bag toy hanging from her mouth like a fresh kill. She’d left you alone and undistracted again. Just you, your thoughts, and the suffocating silence surrounding you, the creeping tingle on your neck that told you he was still watching the cameras.
He was waiting.
So you sighed and crawled off the bed with your bouquet in tow, cutting the stems into the kitchen trash can and filling a glass vase with water to display them on the counter.
The grey paper followed you from room to room, seat to seat, from one hand to the other as you read it over and over. You could recite it by memory, it was burned into your retinas, you could still feel the indents of his pen on the paper long after you’d sat it aside, the smell of the paper dye singed your nostrils and didn’t leave even after your shower.
You thought you could clean yourself, wash your hands of the problem both literally and metaphorically.
No amount of scrubbing could rinse your brain well enough to wash away the thousands of jumbled words swirling around. You’d been trying to formulate one, just one, coherent sentence for a response. But each time you made progress, you changed your mind on the decision, you scrapped the idea, sent it to the shredder and recycled it into a slightly different, just as illegible mess.
He’s giving you an out. Take it.
Who cares if he still watches you? He won’t interfere. He won’t show up for visits, he won’t leave you gifts or notes.
He’d left you with an offering. A little piece of himself in exchange for your so called ‘divine intervention’. He was asking for the hand of god to stir the pot and serve it too. At least, that’s how he saw it.
For you it was just an awkward toss up of a bunch of jumbled pros and cons.
On one hand he was offering you freedom. Opening the bird cage and giving you the option to escape but clipping your wings, ensuring you can’t go too far.
He’d still watch, just not make an appearance… keep himself hidden like before.
This would also solidify Anakin’s safety, which you valued highly. You’d be free to have your beautiful blossoming relationship, without the worry and stress from the Ghost that haunts your apartment.
On the other hand he gave you the choice to join him in some capacity. To walk through the valley with him; would he walk two steps behind? Two in front? Or side-by-side?
It’d give you the opportunity to explore this stranger you’ve discovered living inside your mind and body. That weird itch that only Ghost can scratch, the thought of him alone just doesn’t do it for you anymore.
You’d have the chance to see who is under that mask and that was more intriguing than anything. You felt like the more you spoke to him, the more you watched him in person… maybe you’d be able to narrow it down to a few people. That might be worth the risks that come with allowing him to continue visiting.
So, you swallowed your fear and closed your eyes. A few silent moments later you spoke aloud, assuming Ghost was still listening.
“I’ll walk with you.” You said slowly, tasting the words as they left your lips. “On two conditions.”
‘What are they, deer?’ His response came instantaneously.
“You leave my friends and family alone. You swear on your life they’re safe and that includes Anakin. I mean it, I’m not fucking around about it okay?” You said confidently. “I already feel guilty enough, don’t make it worse for me.”
‘Guilty?’
“Yes guilty! I have a boyfriend, who I really, really like.” You said, feeling exhausted from the complexity of your choice. “This isn’t fair to him!”
“But it’s… it’s not fair to me either!” You said frustratedly as you blew out a long breath of air through pursed lips. “I deserve to know who you are! You’ve been watching me for god knows how long and I haven’t even heard your real voice.”
“And… and it’s not fair for you either.” You admitted quietly.
‘Why?’
“You’ve been… mostly harmless. Kind.” You confessed, considering saying more, much more. “You’ve been helpful. Despite everything you’ve done, you obviously care about me. I can’t ignore that especially now.”
‘Mostly harmless??’
‘Why ‘especially’ now?’
“You’re joking right?” You snorted in disbelief, shaking your head and trying to stifle a laugh of indignation. “You… well I mean it feels wrong to call it what it is. But- you.. you know what you did!” You crossed your arms frustratedly.
‘Ah… the extracurriculars.’
“Sure if that’s what you want to call it.” An expression of, strangely enough, amusement, crossed over your features. “What it is… well you know what it is.” You sighed.
“But for some reason… I don’t want to call it that.” You said quietly.
‘Hm. I’ll remember that.’
“I’m sure you will.” You huffed in spite of yourself, because if you were honest you’d be telling him you liked it. Your body liked it, your brain liked it, asleep or not, he’d affected you in ways you were unsure you could get with anyone else. Including your sweet and precious boyfriend, he’s too tender and loving.
“Second condition: you promise me that you’ll eventually tell me who you are.” You said firmly. “I deserve to know.”
‘I accept.’
“Okay then.” You sighed with relief and a bit of resignation. “You still have to warn me if you’re gonna be coming to visit though!”
‘Yes ma’am.’
“Ew. Add that to the list. Never call me ma’am again.” You snorted and it rolled into a full laugh when you finally looked up and caught your own gaze in your bedroom mirror. You were sitting in your room alone, speaking aloud, having a fully fleshed, seemingly one-sided conversation.
If anyone were to walk in on this scene playing out, they’d think you’ve lost your mind.
Maybe you already have.
Part Ten
The pendant that inspired the hairpin! I forgot to add it in sorryyyyyy
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Hello! Could you do anything yandere shanks x female reader, but can you make it in a headcanon. Where shanks first meet the reader, how he got obsessed (was it "love at first sight") how he woos the reader, how he expressed his emotions, etc. But can you make it where that shank crew is obsessed with the reader, too? (Not romantically) more like a little sister/older brothers obsession. And they make sure no one gets the readers heart but shanks. But the reader later finds out about this and confront them about it and reveal that this was her (secret kink) but always kept it to herself because she knows it's not healthy, etc. How would they react? And could you do it in nsfw and sfw headcanon
WARNINGS: FEMALE READER + NOT PROOFREAD
NOTES: Super duper sorry anon, but I don’t write nsfw. I still hope this is to your liking!
I imagine that Shanks first encounters you in a bustling port town, the kind where everything smells like saltwater and adventure—or maybe just fried fish, but we’ll go with adventure. You’re busy—maybe working a stall, laughing with friends, or simply taking in the sights with this serene, unbothered expression. You stand out to him, not like a thunderbolt of “love at first sight” exactly, but more like a nagging feeling that something just clicked. It’s like spotting a rare treasure—he doesn’t fully understand why he’s drawn to you, but he knows it’s significant. It’s like finding a piece of his favorite puzzle that he didn’t even know was missing.
At first, it’s just mild curiosity. You’ve caught his attention, and now he’s finding every excuse to watch you—casually, of course. He’s not a weirdo... not yet, anyway. It’s all innocent in the beginning, but as time goes on, that curiosity becomes a full-blown obsession. He finds himself studying the way you smile, the way you tilt your head when you’re thinking, and even the way you roll your eyes when someone says something ridiculous. It’s all too fascinating. You’re like his own personal TV show—except the plot thickens with every episode. And oh boy, he’s hooked.
And that’s when the possessiveness kicks in. Shanks starts convincing himself that everything you do—every gesture, every laugh—is somehow meant for him. It’s a classic pirate’s mindset: when you spot treasure, you claim it. But Shanks, ever the suave captain, decides that this treasure is worth the wait. He’s not about to rush in and scare you off, oh no. This isn’t some quick plunder; this is a long game. He’s willing to be patient, biding his time, and winning you over little by little. You might think he’s just being friendly or charismatic—after all, he’s got that charm down to an art—but every move he makes is a carefully calculated step closer to you. Creepy when you think about it, right? Unless you’re into it
Naturally, Shanks’ crew gets involved—how could they not? They’re a tight-knit bunch, practically a family, and if something or rather, someone is important to Shanks, they’re all on high alert. They catch on to the way their captain looks at you—it’s not the usual playful grin or the casual glance he gives most people. No, it’s a look that says, “I’ve found something I want to keep.” This man is intense and obsessed, and they can see it. So, being the loyal crewmates they are, they decide it’s their job—no, their duty—to help their captain out. Not that they think he needs the help (since he’s Shanks and all), but hey, why not give him an edge?
The crew quickly adopts the idea of you as their captain’s treasure—precious and worth protecting. And just like that, you’re part of the family, whether you know it or not. They take on the role of overly protective brothers (whether they’re older or younger doesn’t matter—they’ve all got that big sibling energy anyway). They make it their mission to watch over you, making sure you’re safe wherever you go. But they’re not just watching from the shadows—no, they’re playing the long game, just like their captain is.
They know Shanks has enough charm to fill the Grand Line, so their strategy is different: they’re trying to get you to seek him out more. They’ve got complete faith in their captain’s charm; it’s just you who needs a little nudge in the right direction. They drop hints like, “Oh, you know, Captain Shanks would love to see you at the tavern later,” or “Wow, I bet the captain would be thrilled if you asked him about that.” Subtle, right?
As time goes on, they don’t just see you as their captain’s potential love interest—they genuinely start to see you as part of their crew. And in their eyes, that makes you family. Now, when someone’s happiness is tied to their captain’s happiness, they’re all in. They become more invested in making sure you’re content, safe, and most importantly, staying right where they want you.
It’s all fun and games until you realize anyone getting too close to you except for Shanks is a problem. See, they want you to be a permanent part of their crew. Anyone who even thinks about getting too friendly with you instantly becomes enemy number one. Sure, they’ll try to avoid violence—at first. But if they see you getting swayed by someone else, they’re not afraid to roll up their sleeves and get a little more, let’s say, hands-on with the problem. Ruthless? Maybe. Necessary? In their eyes, absolutely.
This is where their “sibling” dynamic really comes into play. The way they see it, no one’s good enough for their soon-to-be sister-in-law that’s you, by the way except Shanks. They discourage any potential suitors by casually looming nearby, giving cold stares, or “accidentally” interrupting conversations just as things start to get cozy. They’re there to make sure you stay unattached and grow more comfortable with Shanks and the crew. They gradually start making it clear that the only acceptable outcome is you being with their captain, and anyone else is just wasting their time.
And if you happen to be inexperienced in romance? Perfect! They’re thrilled. They take it as an opportunity to coach you, guiding you with all the expertise that only a bunch of rowdy pirates can offer. They’ll give you tips some (good, some questionable) and make sure you know exactly how to charm their captain back.
Basically, any love life you had or might have wanted outside of Shanks is out the window. As long as this crew is around, you’re not finding any other suitors—no chance, no way. They’ll make sure the only person you ever have eyes for is Shanks. And if you were single before they met you, even better—they’ve got a blank slate to work with. Maybe Yasopp or Benn pat you on the back and say, “Well, lucky for you, our captain’s the best option you’ll ever have.”
Shanks has this effortless charm about him that’s practically impossible to resist. With his laid-back nature and easygoing smile, he knows exactly how to draw you in. From the very start, he’s friendly and approachable, making it feel like you’ve known him for years. He knows how to make you feel at ease—he cracks jokes, buys you drinks, and regales you with wild stories from his adventures at sea. It’s hard not to feel comfortable around him when he’s so open and genuine, always acting like you’re old friends—or maybe something more. And you? You start to think he’s just a normal guy—albeit a pirate, but a friendly one. The truth? His charm of his isn’t just natural—there’s a strategy behind it.
See, Shanks is playing a long game here. Beneath the friendly smile and the easy banter is a guy who’s putting in work. He’s paying attention to everything—your likes, your hobbies, and even the tiniest details. He notices what makes your eyes light up, the foods you prefer, the places you love to visit, and even the little things that make you cringe. Every time he interacts with you, it’s as if he’s reading straight from the playbook on “How to Win Your Heart.” You think it’s just a coincidence that he always knows the right thing to say or do to make you feel special, but nope—that’s just Shanks doing his homework.
And it’s not just Shanks who’s in on it; his crew is right there, playing their part like it’s a well-rehearsed performance. They hype him up constantly, making sure you know just how amazing their captain is. They’ll tell you stories—always the ones where Shanks is the hero, the brave and selfless leader, or the guy who goes out of his way to help others. Of course, they know better than to lay it on too thick, but the message is clear: Shanks isn’t just some ordinary pirate; he’s a guy worth betting your heart on. They’ll casually mention his loyalty, his bravery, and his kindness, painting a picture of the ideal man—like, really, who wouldn’t want a guy like him? They frame it all so perfectly that you start to wonder if Shanks is exactly the kind of person you’ve been waiting for. But little do you know, he’s been waiting for you!
It doesn’t stop at words, either; the crew’s got action plans. They’ll orchestrate these “coincidental” moments where Shanks can swoop in like some dashing hero. Maybe your bag “accidentally” slips off the dock, and there’s Shanks, quick as lightning, retrieving it with that grin of his. Or perhaps you’re having a rough day, and suddenly Shanks appears with your favorite snack in hand, ready to lift your spirits. It’s like clockwork—every opportunity they get, they’re making sure Shanks is there, saving the day or making things just a little bit easier for you. It’s a collective effort, all geared towards making you see Shanks as the only option, the one who’s been right there all along, just waiting for you to realize it.
When it comes to expressing his emotions, Shanks plays it smooth—real smooth. He’s affectionate, sure, but there’s always that tiny hint of possessiveness lingering underneath, like a shadow just out of sight. He’s subtle, though; he knows how to keep it from being obvious. He showers you with attention, and not in an overwhelming way, but just enough so you always know he’s thinking about you. It could be a small gift from his travels—a trinket from a far-off island or a flower he swears is the rarest he’s ever seen. Or maybe it’s the little notes he leaves behind, simple but sweet, like a casual reminder that he’s never too far from your thoughts. He’s always there when you need someone, even if you don’t realize you need him. Shanks makes it pretty much impossible for you to forget about him.
And when others approach you, Shanks? Oh, he keeps his cool—like, really cool. He’s got that carefree smile and that laid-back attitude down to a science. Sure, he wants you all to himself, but part of his plan is patience. He’s not about to lose his composure over some random individual trying to chat you up—no, no, he’s got the long game in mind. However, if someone starts getting a little too close for comfort, that’s when you’ll see him act. And trust me, when he does, it’s like a magician pulling off a trick. Maybe that person suddenly finds himself on the wrong side of a brawl with some random pirates, or they just “decide” to leave the island without a trace. Weird, right? Almost like they vanished into thin air. Shanks knows how to make things happen while keeping his hands clean—or at least appearing to.
Eventually, you start putting the pieces together. You can’t ignore the patterns—people who show interest in you either mysteriously vanish or suddenly avoid you like you’ve got some kind of pirate plague. And then there’s Shanks, who always seems to know everything happening in your life, almost like he’s got some sixth sense. Oh, and his crew? They just so happen to be wherever you are, ready to step in like overprotective siblings. It’s all a bit too convenient, so you decide to confront them about it.
Shanks doesn’t even try to deny it. In fact, he leans right into it, giving you the whole “I’m doing this for your safety; the world’s a dangerous place” spiel. You know, playing the classic protector card. And, of course, his crew’s right behind him, backing him up like they’re all in on this script. They swear they’re only looking out for you, doing what any good “family” would do. They make it seem like it’s their sacred duty to keep you safe from any harm—or in this case, any potential love interests who aren’t Shanks.
But when you drop the bomb and reveal that this was exactly what you secretly wanted—a possessive, obsessive kind of love—the reaction is priceless. Shanks’ face goes from a small hint of concern to this look of pure satisfaction. It’s like you’ve just handed him the keys to the treasure chest he’s been searching for lifetimes. He’s definitely caught off guard for a second, but it’s the kind of surprise he’s thrilled about.
The crew’s reaction is just as entertaining. They look relieved and almost proud, like they’ve just gotten the ultimate validation. To them, it’s a sign that everything they’ve done—all the lurking and scheming—was the right move. You wanted this all along, so in their eyes, they’re basically heroes. Now that you’ve spilled the beans, they become way more open about their protectiveness, doubling down on their roles as your “brothers.” It’s like your confession flipped a switch for them, giving them free rein to crank up the possessiveness without feeling an ounce of guilt. If they ever felt guilty to begin with, that is.
From that moment on, they’re even bolder with their interference. They don’t bother hiding their efforts to scare off anyone who dares to get too close. In fact, they make sure you know that your place is with them—more importantly, with Shanks. He’s over the moon, acting like he’s won the ultimate prize. Knowing that you’re receptive to his obsession only fuels his determination to keep you all to himself. Now that you’ve given him the green light, there’s no turning back; his possessiveness has leveled up, and his crew is all-in, making sure the world knows you’re their captain’s treasure.
With everything out in the open, the dynamic between you, Shanks, and his crew hits a new level of intensity. It’s like a silent contract has been signed: you’re theirs. Shanks cranks up the affection, pulling you even deeper into his orbit. He’s always around—whether it’s with charming smiles, playful touches, or just happening to be there when you need a shoulder to lean on. And his crew? Oh, they double down on their big brother act, making sure you’re never alone for a single second.
The crew practically builds an invisible barrier around you, creating a fortress of brotherly protection that no one can breach. Some poor soul tries to talk to you? Expect one of the guys to appear out of nowhere, putting an arm around your shoulder and shooting a “friendly” grin that’s a little too sharp. You’re basically the most popular sibling in the overprotective pirate family now, and anyone who even thinks about getting close might as well just wave the white flag and walk away.
They’ve turned “you belong with us” into their full-time job. If you ever wander off, it’s only a matter of minutes before one of them pops up with an “Oh, there you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” They act like it’s all in good fun, but there’s no mistaking that underlying message: they’re keeping tabs, and they’re not letting you slip away.
And you can’t help but feel the effect. They make you the center of their universe, their obsession, and honestly? It’s kind of intoxicating. Sure, there’s a part of you that knows it’s all a bit much—maybe even borderline unhealthy—but when you’re surrounded by that kind of attention, it’s hard not to get swept up in it. And that’s exactly how they want it. You’re part of their “family” now, and they’ll do whatever it takes to keep you right where you are.
Shanks, of course, is the ringleader of it all. He’s basking in the fact that you’ve accepted his possessiveness—no, welcomed it. He knows it’s only a matter of time before you’re fully his, heart, body, and soul. And the crew? They’re just as invested in this little storybook ending—because, in their eyes, you’re not just their captain’s treasure; you’re their treasure too.
#shanks x y/n#yandere shanks x reader#shanks x you#yandere shanks#shanks x reader#one piece shanks#akagami no shanks#red haired shanks#red haired pirates
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