#They're determined to live “just like the good old days”

[wheredidalltheusersgo]

Introducing: The Surfer Dudes, Pete and Gerry!

They're fun, they're laid back, and they refuse to spend their final years in a seniors centre!

#these two were so fun to design good lord #long hair gerry save me..... #They're determined to live “just like the good old days” #benny and mark. these old men are for YOU!!!! #total drama #td pete #td gerry #td tennis rivals #tennis rivals #tennis husbands #tdrr swap trio au #total drama au #my art #They're married because I say so

[melodeebarnes]

"Of course, I noticed"

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It's your first Christmas with the Avengers, and you're nervous. Not everyone is big on the idea of a new teammate. They haven't been very good at remembering to include you. However, someone you least expected remembered.

Notes from Author: This is my first thing to write on here, and first written out fanfic ever. So, not sure how I feel about this. I started writing this at 2AM. So, we'll see.

*No mention of y/n*

It's currently 7:45AM, and you've just finished up wrapping the present you picked out for Wanda. You want to make sure everything is perfect.

It's you're first Christmas living in the compound and what happens today could determine how everyone thinks about you. You may be overreacting a bit...but what if you're not? Either way, your nerves are at their peak.

You take a deep breath, and grab all of the gifts you bought for everyone. You head down to the main living area, which holds the biggest Christmas tree in the compound. You delicately place each present underneath it, next to the other ones.

You follow the aroma of fresh hot coffee into the kitchen. You pass Wanda, who's flipping a pancake, humming to the Christmas music sounding from F.R.I.D.A.Y.

You grab your favorite mug, and quickly turn, eager for the first sip of coffee. Thankfully you got here just in time, as there isn't much left. You pour the rest of the steamy hot goodness into your cup.

You quickly doll in up, a little bit of cream, and a little bit of sugar. Just the way you like it. You take the first sip, and it's perfec-

"You've got to be kidding me." Bucky groans, causing everyone to turn their attention to him. Though, his eyes seem to be on you. "You just HAD to take the last of the coffee?"

Bucky. He's the person you knew you'd have the most trouble with today. He has never been fond of you. You thought he just needed some time to warm up to you, but even after months he still hates you. He made up his mind about you the first day, and won't change it.

"I'm sorry, there wasn't much left." You explain.

He scoffs, "So you think you can just come in here and take it? You have no right to-"

"Hey! What's the rule?" Wanda interrupts, immediately shutting him up. "No arguing on Christmas morning," she reminds.

He huffs out a sigh, glaring at you. "Whatever." He mutters.

"Here, I'll make another pot." Steve offers, being the peacemaker, he is. He looks back at you, giving a friendly smile.

Everyone sits down, eating their breakfast. There's a bit of banter between the group, but you just sit and listen. They're clearly more familiar with each other than they are with you.

They haven't made much effort to get to know you on a personal level, so you chose not to force it.

Tony walks in into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bacon from the plate. "Alright, now that I'm here we can start the real meaning of the gracious holiday."

You follow behind everyone to the black velvet couches and sit in the in the empty spot on the corner. Natasha passes out everyone's gifts to their recipient.

As you watch each gift get passed out, you notice how few of gifts you have, compared to everyone else. You have two gifts, one from Steve, and one with no name.

"Sorry, we're not used to you being here for Christmas." Bruce shrugs.

"Oh, no. It's fine. I totally understand" You try to hide the disappointment behind a smile, but there's no hiding the sadness' in your eyes. Though, no one cares enough to notice.

You try to brush it off and open the gifts you do have. Inside the gift from Steve is new training gloves. Your old ones were already beginning to wear out, your thankful to have new ones.

"Thank you, Steve."

"My pleaser." He smiles, warmly.

The second gift with no name, is a small box with a poorly tied bow. You sigh at the lack of effort. When you open it, you see a necklace with a diamond incrusted butterfly charm. It's the same one you saw at an antique store you went to when everyone was out shopping on a day off.

You figured no one was paying attention, but clearly someone was. "Wait, who is this from?" You ask, gently holding up the necklace.

Everyone either shrugs, or looks around looking for an answer to the same question.

"Well whoever it was, thank you so much." You're unable to stop smiling. You admire the beauty of the necklace.

A few hours later, you're back up in your room. You decided to leave the celebration early because you felt left out. It just seemed like it'd be best for everyone.

However, the sound of a knock, echos off your door.

"Who is it?" You raise your voice, in order for them to hear you. When there's no answer, you sigh getting up. You slowly open to door, to see Bucky standing on the other side, hands in pockets, and eyes avoiding yours.

"Uhm...may I help you?" You ask, confused.

"I just came to tell you, we're doing our annual Christmas movie night, in case you wanted to join." He mutters, looking off to the side.

"Trust me, no one wants me there."

"That's not tru-" He cuts himself off.

You furrow your brow, "What?" you ask.

"Did you not like the gift?" He asks, now looking at your neck, still bare with no jewelry.

"No, I loved it I just-" you got yourself off, suddenly putting the puzzle pieces together. "Wait, that was from you?" You question, taken aback.

"Uhm..yeah." He mutters.

"Why didn't you put a name on it?" You feel confused. Why would, Bucky, of all people be the one to get you the meaningful gift.

"Well, usually everyone can tell by the wrapping." He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I'm not the best at it, but I swear I try."

"Well, that is what matters." You laugh. "Wait, but how did you know?"

"When we were all out shopping, I saw the way your face lit up when you saw the necklace." He explains. "So, I assumed it'd be the perfect gift for you."

"I can't believe you noticed that."

"Of course, I noticed." He smiles at you for the first time ever.

You can't lie, seeing him smile did abrupt a few stray butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you, it must've cost a fortune."

He shakes his head. "The price isn't what matters. It's the thought that goes into the gift."

"I never thought I'd hear that coming out of your mouth." You laugh.

"Yeah, and if you tell anyone I'm gonna have to kill you." He jokes.

"Can't ruin your big bad wolf reputation, right?"

"Hey, it's white wolf." He corrects.

You put your hands up in defense. "My apologies."

"Wait, so why aren't you wearing the necklace?" He asks.

"I'm not great at putting on necklaces, and I didn't want to break or mess it up." You explain.

He nods in understanding, "Would you like me to help?" He asks.

"Sure, I would love your help." You smile, opening the door wide, inviting him inside.

He hesitantly walks in, immediately spotting the gift sitting in the poorly wrapped box. You smile, delicately taking it out and handing it to him. You turn around, watching him through the mirror.

He uses his flesh hand to gently brushes your hair out of the way, sending shivers down your spine. He brings the beautiful necklace in front of you, and you lift your hair up out while he clasps the chain.

You let your hair fall, but you both stand silently looking in the mirror. Suddenly he ends the silence by clearing his throat.

"It's beautiful, Bucky. Thank you."

"Call me Buck." He smiles, again.

"Really? But I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you. Sometimes I'm just not great with new recruits, and I don't handle it the proper way." He looks away, embarrassed by the way he's been acting. "And I'm sorry for treating you so poorly these past few months."

"It's okay." You smile.

"Now come on, lets go down for movie night." He begins to walk out.

"But they probably don't want me there." You say.

"If they have anything to say, they'll have to deal with me." He warns. "Between me and you, they're all a little if not extremely scared of me." He laughs.

"Well then, this should be good." You smile, and follow him out.

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n

[wxnheart]

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐳𝐚, 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

part two (nsfw)

What are the odds that you're the object of affection for not one but two masked killing machines?

Well, that's what they would have you believe, that they're deadly. I mean they are and they... aren't. Simon is a giant armored teddy bear and König is a playful Golden Retriever. Your good boys. Your best boys. Your good, best, and chaotic boys.

Well, uh... Ghost will forever call bullshit and protest because he is NOT chaotic. Now that is bullshit because his chaotic nature is more subdued. You can admit that König brings out this part of him more than you do.

Though to be fair, you've gotten in your fair share of shenanigans with König. Ghost swears he rolls his eyes more often than not when it comes to you two.

They also tend to lowkey compete with each other and it's made you laugh more often than not.

You thought you were a worrywart but König and Ghost have you beat. By miles. And König has you both beat by lightyears.

He'll bring you up a lot when he and Ghost are gone. When the three of you are in different places, best believe a conference call will be had. You and König are talking the most and Ghost will interject every so often. And then König and Ghost will talk and sometimes they will... not!bicker like an old married couple.

Their voices (especially the rumble of Simon's) are so soothing to you. You fell asleep on the phone while talking to them once and they got so worried that they were THISCLOSE to sending someone to check on you.

Speaking of being away, König absolutely does not like the fact that you're alone when they're gone. Thinks it makes you susceptible to an attack. Simon disagrees and vouches for you ("Alone doesn't mean weak. You'll be fine.") but in pure König fashion, he surprises you and Simon with the cutest Doberman puppy ("To keep you company and protect you when we're gone, Schatz."). A Doberman puppy who, to date, has no name because you three can't agree to one. König calls her Königin (Queen), Ghost calls her Pup, and you call her Lola.

Speaking of pet names, you're either Schatz or Schatzi to König and Baby or Love to Simon. They're usually handsome or gorgeous to you. You're still working on giving them specific pet names but those two will suffice for now. It's cute watching König glow whenever you call him that.

The dog is more company than she is protection because all she lives for is table food, scritches, and 'stalking' Ghost and/or König. The latter absolutely loves to roughhouse with her, too. She made Ghost her personal couch/bed/thing. Yeah...

You also encourage your four-legged baby to smile, too, and when she first did it in front of Ghost he was almost scared shitless ("What the fu—?").

Ghost is also a little dismayed and turned on that König can pick him up and carry him like a sack of potatoes. Ghost.exe stopped working the first time it happened. When YOU witnessed it for the first time, you, uh... well... let's just say you were deliciously sore the next day. (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

The same thing usually happens when you watch them spar and it gets a little heated (König gets that little glint of determination in his eyes and like fuck will Simon admit that it gets a little personal when he loses). Goddamn, just look at those physiques.

In the bed: You had to upsize because your lovers are fucking gigantic. König prefers to be rather confined when he sleeps so he's always in the middle. Ghost likes to sleep facing the door and you and the furbaby are... everywhere in the bed. She also gives no fucks and will plop down on the closet body.

Simon is also the resident pillow princess. Yeah, his pillows need to be extra fluffy and he keeps an abundance of them on the bed. So fucking what. You tease him about it endlessly but he couldn't give a shit. Funnily enough, König almost got supplexed once because he called Simon that in public.

Speaking of being in public, they're your protectors when you're out and about. Either they're walking in front of you if there are too many people or they're by your side. You do prefer for them to walk in front of you for... reasons. That involves the view. (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

And by the way, they can get a little jealous. They will feel some type of way if your attention is on something or rather, someone else. You are theirs and they have no problem letting people know that.

Oh yeah and König, fuck you. Ghost calls bullshit. Your mask does not look better than his.

#simon ghost riley #konig #könig #simon riley x reader #konig x reader #könig x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warfare #konig x reader x ghost #task force 141 #just 141 things. #just ghostly things. #just kingly things. #poly palooza.

[fellthemarvelous]

Holy forking shirtballs

I'm choosing violence today. I started this on Twitter, but I'm going to finish my thoughts here like I always do.

But what really blows my mind the most is the way that people look at Aziraphale's "choice" at the end, as if he had one to fucking begin with.

I'm sorry, but Aziraphale knows how messed up Heaven is. He told The Metatron, more than once, that he did not want to go back to Heaven! We can debate what each of us means by "choice" all night because my "choice" and your "choice" might be two different concepts. He could have been strong armed by The Metatron or he could have looked at where things were headed and realized he had no choice but to intervene himself.

You need to ask yourself what Aziraphale has a moral imperative to do.

What do we owe to each other?

Seriously, if you have not watched The Good Place, I recommend you go and watch it, because it absolutely shaped how I've viewed Good Omens 2 since its release.

My levels of frustration with the bad faith mischaracterizations of Aziraphale are off the charts. If you are blaming him for everything, implying that he should have to grovel and that Crowley has a right to hurt him back, you have missed the point of Good Omens entirely.

I defend Aziraphale, but I don't think one of them is more right or wrong than the other. They're equals. They're a group of the two of them, acting and reacting to each other throughout history. They're Alpha Centauri.

I cannot even begin to explain how fucking devastated I felt when Crowley said these words, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. What he said took a lot of courage because he's finally admitting something they've both been too scared to publicly define for 6,000 years. Crowley has had to spend so long with a rough outer shell because he fell and had to hide all of his softness.

The look on his face was one of pure joy when he created that nebula, but I think the fact that he got to share that moment with Aziraphale is what has always stuck with him.

So yeah, seeing Crowley with a broken heart at the end of "Every Day" was sad for me as well.

My brain still lives here!!

But Neil has said that Good Omens 3 is not quiet, gentle, or romantic. I imagine it's going to be more like the the first season in which they are not central to the plot. GO2 will help us make sense of how they ended up where they are when we see the bigger picture with all the other major players involved with GO3.

Aziraphale was still a soldier and accidentally got himself discorporated in his own magic circle in season one. He had a platoon waiting on him to start Armageddon, and he deserted them to go save the world with Crowley instead. Aziraphale is a deserter. I need everyone to remember that. He yeeted himself out of Heaven and sought out Crowley before even locating a body just to warn him about what was happening so they could try to save the world together.

I can't help but think of 1941 and that magician who had been arrested for being a deserter.

Aziraphale disobeyed orders. That took courage but it branded him as a traitor against Heaven. They tried to destroy him for it the same way Hell tried to destroy Crowley for his part in stopping the war.

Aziraphale and Job are the only characters we have seen interacting with God directly. Aziraphale has spoken to God before and he is determined to do so again.

Aziraphale knows Heaven is flawed, but he also knows it's supposed to be good. He wants it to be good. He does not like the way the system works and he wants to make a difference. (And I'm pretty sure he's also determined to talk to God without being intercepted by The Metatron.)

Since when is that a bad thing? I don't get it. And I've had this discussion before.

If you need to change the system by burning the old one to the ground, it's still change, and we don't know what Aziraphale has planned.

It seems to me that people just want to see Aziraphale fail because it would punish him for returning to Heaven instead of running off with Crowley.

Some of y'all take everything Aziraphale says or does and twist those things into malicious anti-Crowley actions because you think the only reason Aziraphale exists is to make Crowley happy, and if he isn't thinking only about Crowley then he's doing something wrong.

Aziraphale does not exist as a plot device to further Crowley's character. They come as a pair. They've been learning from each other for 6,000 years. Crowley challenges Aziraphale just as much as Aziraphale challenges him.

You can be mad at Aziraphale all you want, but villainizing him is gross. Defending Crowley does not mean you have to tear down and mischaracterize Aziraphale anymore than defending Aziraphale means you have to tear down Crowley (but I don't see that happen on nearly the same level it happens to Aziraphale). Stop painting Aziraphale as an abusive partner, for fuck sake.

Aziraphale knows there are flaws in the system. He wants to make a difference, and since he has seen that Gabriel can change, then maybe the whole system can. He has to at least try, and if he can succeed then maybe he and Crowley can stop hiding and finally be together without having to look over their shoulders all the time.

Why is that a bad thing? He's just as protective of Crowley as Crowley is of him!

But don't forget that Aziraphale's wing was covering Adam and Eve too. As much as a wants to protect Crowley, he has a moral imperative to keep humanity safe as well.

He sent Adam and Eve into the unknown with a flaming sword so they could protect themselves.

As much as he wants to be with Crowley, there are 8 billion people on Earth heading toward the Second Coming and Judgment Day. They'll work together to fight alongside humanity in the end. Aziraphale should not have to humiliate himself just to earn Crowley's forgiveness. That's a rancid notion.

The Resurrectionist was a whole ass moral dilemma for Aziraphale, which is why I brought up The Good Place earlier, but that's a post for a different time.

Aziraphale has his own motivations and they're just as important as Crowley's, and they don't have to be chalked up to Aziraphale being the bad guy. Weird, I know, but shades of grey.

"To the world."

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale defense squad #yeah i'm being bitchy #no i don't care if you're offended #no i'm not interested in your aziraphale hate #i'm not interested in hearing takes about aziraphale being toxic from people who can't even be objective #some of y'all need to watch the good place because you need a lesson in moral philosophy #we should be able to have discussions about the characters without gross takes calling aziraphale abusive #az and crowley approach everything from wildly different perspectives because of where they are #just admit y'all shit on az because he doesn't look or act like crowley #I'm so done with the shitty aziraphale takes #they aren't even interesting enough to debate #they're just annoying

[norrisleclercf1]

Just Come Home To Us

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader x Lando Norris

Rating: R

Words: 3.8K

Warnings: Angst, some fluff, Smut, oral (both receiving), p in v, wrap it before you tap it, I'm sure there is some other, also this smut not the best written but hey I finished it

Our Boy Series Masterlist/ Previous: Memories of Old and New / Next: They're My Future, You're The Past

Synopsis: Things are never easy, even when you want to come home.

A/n: One more chapter before the end of Our Boy Main Story!

4 months have passed since that morning after the Monaco Grand Prix. 4 months since your husband kicked you out of the house and their lives. Painful nights alone, filled with tears and nightmares, the only comfort has been talking to Elijah and Cecile every day. Elijah was the ever-good son, telling you Charles and Lando were far from okay. 

His Papa was back in therapy and felt he wasn't ready to see you, not because of the fight, but because he wanted to better himself first. You kept your mouth shut, refusing to let anger cloud your son's judgment of his Papa. Lando, Cecile told you that he was holding everyone together, but she worried no one was there for him. 

It made your heart clench. Lando was the younger of you 3 and always in the middle whenever you and Charles argued. Closing your eyes, you suck in the bone-chilling air of Finnish winter. "Eh, don't fall asleep on me!" With an ache in your neck, you see your father on his snowmobile, grinning. The same grin he'd give Uncle David or Michael before a race. 

"I'm not old man, just enjoying the fresh air." Words are falling off, and the blanket of white surrounding you has your eyes burning. "Just call," Mika whispers, knowing what you're thinking. He could always see those thoughts whirling in your head. An open book is what he liked to call you. "No," Your father mumbles something about how stubborn you are, kicking off the engine and leaving you as he goes through the private course again. 

Why should you have to call? Charles was the one who wouldn't let you explain, even listen to you. He did what he always did: reacted first. A defense mechanism you have experienced one too many times. And this was the last time you'd be subjected to it. Charles has ripped your family apart more than once; this may be the time he succeeded. 

Kicking your own engine, you follow your father to the top of the point, seeing him staring out. "He should be the one to call!" You yell, the wind whipping around you. It was a lashing you have missed, the cold turning your blood to ice and making your lungs expand to suck in the crisp air. "Why?" You hated when Mika did this. He wouldn't take your side. He said that while he loved you, that doesn't mean he'll always defend you. Sometimes, the child must fight their own battle to determine if the war is worth it. 

"Why?" You trudge through the snow, stopping next to your father. Memories of being a little girl, learning harsh lessons, and the screaming matches of forming your own path. "Because he kicked me out and told me to leave. And I did. He ripped this family apart, not me." Mika turns, and you shrink back. Even after the words left, you felt their poison seep in. "The truth is a paper cut, but the lies are the bullet wounds. You did not help your cause when you continued to lie to those men. Good men who have given you a wonderful family and two gorgeous children." Mika sighs, fixing his glasses. 

"You think I don't know this? What do you want me to say? That I lost sleep, sometimes sick to my own stomach, when I watched Elijah grow up? Or when Charles would whisper how much he loved Elijah and me? Because I did. I've hated myself for 16 years; for 16 years, I have lied to the greatest loves of my life. I thought Nico was my air, but he was sea. Swallowing me whole and drowning me. But Charles," You break off, swallowing your tears. "And Lando, they gave me air; for once, I remembered what breathing was like. FUCK!" You scream out into the mountain air. 

"When your mother died, I felt my world slip out from under me. When you started to act out, a part of me felt like I failed. You started to date Nico, and for once, I thought you were okay. Instead, you were slowly dying inside. If your mother was here, she'd kick my ass and then yours." You laugh, wiping your tears, the cold making them burn like acid. "I failed my babies," Mika shakes his head, facing you. 

"You didn't. You never failed those children, just yourself. And that's okay. Because no matter how old you get, you're still a child. My child and we Häkkinens don't make things easy. Just ask your Uncle David." You laugh, remembering how Uncle David would tell you stories about your father. "I miss them. I feel like I'm missing pieces of myself." You whisper. 

"I should hate Charles for the pain he caused me, but then I remember all the pain he's been through. We're both hurt, Daddy, so I fear we might harm Lando sometimes." Mika chuckles, still picturing you 3 as the 20-something-year-olds back in the 2020s. "He's stronger than you think, trust me." Nodding, the two of you drive back down to your cabin. Slowing, you see a blacked-out SUV. "Who is that?" Mika shrugs as he stalks to his own car. "Don't know! See you tomorrow for dinner!" Scrunching your eyebrows together, you open the front door, heat greeting you. 

"Hello?" Slowly entering your cabin, you stop seeing the familiar old, worn-out McLaren jacket. "Lando?" You call, boots pounding as you round the corner and stop seeing the mop of curls with little bits of grey now in them. He turns and stops, and both of you stare at one another. "Hey, gorgeous." Hearing that accent, those green-blue eyes stare at you, and everything comes crashing down. "Oh, god. I'm so sorry." You sob, crumbling to the floor. 

Whatever he was doing is forgotten as he rushes to you, falling to the floor with you as his arms circle around you. "Don't apologize, please don't." He whimpers, his beard tickling you, and you cry harder, hating how much you've missed that ridiculous beard. "You're here, you're here." You repeat and pull back, exchanging messy kisses and words. "Of course I am. It's been a horrible four months. We would've come sooner, but work and," You shut him up by kissing him deeply. 

Lando groans, hands digging into your snow jacket as he relaxes. Pulling apart, you take note of his words. "What do you mean, we?" "He means us." You give yourself whiplash with how fast you look up. Charles stands there, face taunt and glasses hanging onto the end of his nose. You and Lando always say Charles has aged with grace, but right now, he looks like his 26-year-old self again. And it still has your heart skip a beat. Standing, you two stare at one another as Lando looks between you. 

Without a second thought, you rush Charles, and with waiting arms, he accepts you into them. "I've missed you," Whisper of words pass between you two, but he swallows them with his mouth. "Don't talk," He groans, ripping your layers off as Lando whimpers, watching you two. "Come here, baby boy." Lando blushes and grumbles about how he isn't a baby anymore. "You're still our baby," Charles's fingers tug Lando's curls, which has him staggering into you two. 

"Where's the room?" Lando asks as Charles bites and sucks marks into his neck. "Down the hall to the left," You moan as Charles moves to your neck and leads you with a tangle of limbs to the bedroom. Shoving the door open, you three stagger in as they make work of your clothes. Charles stops, lifts you up by your legs, and drops you flat on your back. "Charlie," Lando whines as he lays Lando beside you. 

Your husband leans back, taking in the wreck messes that are you and Lando. "I haven't even fucked either of you, and you're both so wrecked for me." Lando rolls his eyes, and you do, too, with Charles smiling. "That was stupid, Charlie. We're not young anymore." Lando teases and leans up, pulling him down by his necklace. Their kiss is soft, filled with love and emotion, and you swear you feel that hurt grow again. 

Lando pulls away, gently pulling Charles's bottom lip. Leaning up, Lando whispers something to Charles, who has his eyes cut to you and grow dark. "You're right, baby." Charles presses a kiss to Lando's cheek and moves to you. His fingers brush your jaw and then cup it, pulling you up. "Still as breathtaking as the day I met you in the street." He places a soft kiss on your neck. 

"A wonderful mother," Another kiss, and with each praise, he places a kiss before he kisses your lips. "I've missed you more than air," Raising your arms, he helps you out of your shirt, and Lando removes your pants. "Don't leave me again, please." Charles doesn't let you answer as he swallows your words, straddling you on the bed. 

"Easy, Charles. You both need air." Lando reminds me of which has you breaking apart, chests raising and falling. He leans in, pecking you both on the lips. "I love you both so much," Lando whispers and pushes you down, smiling at you both. "Take off your clothes," Charles groans, hating that Lando is still fully clothed. "Who's needy for me now." Laughing, you help Lando out of his clothes. 

"Still a pretty cock, for an old man." Charles's fingers wrap around him, which makes Lando shiver. "Speak for yourself; you're older than me." Charles chuckles, gently jerking Lando off. But Lando doesn't ignore you as he leans down, kisses, licking, and biting his way down, but he stops looking up at you. "I love you," He mouths before closing his eyes as his lips have you gasping. 

"Oh, fuck." Arching your hips up, Lando's large hand pushes you back down and makes eye contact. "Does she still taste like heaven?" Charles rumbles, pulling his hand away from Lando, who whines at losing Charles's touch. Lando moans when your fingers tug at his curls each time he curls his tongue. "Mh, Lan-" You moan louder when Charles bites one of your nipples and ruts up into Lando's mouth. 

Lando pulls away, and you whimper as you are close, but he shakes his head. "Charles, come here. I think you owe our girl a perfect apology." Charles pulls off with a pop and smiles. "I think you're right." Charles moves and stands off the bed, and Lando bites his lip. "Kinda jealous," Charles laughs and pulls Lando into a searing kiss. "Don't worry, you're next." Your toes curl when you feel Charles nudge you as he gets comfortable between your legs. 

"Are you okay?" You stop and think this over. It probably wasn't wise to have sex before talking things through, but damn, you've missed them too much. "Yes, fuck yes, just," Charles moves and slides into you slowly, which has you whimpering. "Easy, you're okay," Charles whispers, dropping over you. His arms cage your head, taking deep breaths to calm himself. "See, old." Charles whips a hand out and twists Lando's nipple, which has him squeak. 

"Jesus, just fuck me, Charles." The two look at you and stop laughing. "Watch your tone." Charles pulls back and slams back into you, which pulls out a whimpering moan. "Lando, you can fuck my mouth." Lando whimpers, hearing that, and the boys move. Charles pulls you close, and he moves in slow thrusts, and Lando gets comfortable for you both. 

"I have missed this mouth. Charlie is good. But you're better." Lando whispers, peppering kisses all over your face. "Missed you too," Opening your mouth, Lando lets you swallow him as he whimpers, screwing his eyes shut. You don't know where your mind went, but every lousy thought has gone away with the two of them here. You've missed them both so much that having them close to you has made you fuzzy. 

"Fuck, baby." Charles groans and drops down, covering your body with his as Lando's hips and Charles's move faster. Lando whimpers pulls away, and wraps his hand around. Charles bats his hand away and takes Lando down his throat, which has you whimpering and clamping down on your husband coming. Lando gasps as Charles sucks him dry, pushing Charles off as he drops to the bed, panting. The three of you are a mess. 

"Don't leave me," Charles whispers as you tangle his hair with your fingers. Exhaustion seeps into your bones, and darkness takes you over. 

-----------------------------------

Charles doesn't know when he wakes; all he remembers is tensing and his eyes flying open. Warmth covers him front to back, and something soft is wrapped around the warmth. Scanning the room, he groans. Memories of the flight, Mika helping them into your cabin, you coming back, the sex. Fuck, he shouldn't have done that. But he missed you, having you wrapped around him as he pulled you apart. 

Eyes move up, taking in Lando's puffed cheeks and mushed curls. He loved watching you both sleep; it was when you were more at peace. Rolling over, he feels his body go rigid. You weren't there, fuck did you leave. Slipping out of his husband's hold, he places a few soft kisses over the marks he has left. "Be back," Lando whines but settles back down. 

Bending down, Charles slides on some sweatpants and follows the light. He stops when he sees you sitting by the low fire on the phone. "I know, baby. I'm glad you and Cecile are having fun with Uncle Carlos." Charles leans against the frame, watching. "Yes, Papa and Daddy are here," Elijah must say something because your face scrunches up. 

"I don't know, honey. Um, Pa...Charles said some stuff during our fight that hurt. So I don't know if we'll get back together." Charles loses his smile and stands up straight. "Elijah, I understand you want me to talk to him, but.....listen. You tell Cecile that I'm okay. Also, please don't give Carlos a hard time, alright. Also look after the twins, oh remember that Oscar's daughter is coming to visit. Yes, Victoria. No, Elijah, don't fight with her. Just, okay, yeah, bye." Hanging up the phone, Charles quickly bolts into the bedroom. 

Lying down, Lando immediately attaches himself to Charles. The door creaks open, and you slide into the bed. But you don't cuddle into Charles; instead, you roll onto your other side, back facing him. 

He was losing you. 

-----------------------------------

"But, it's snowing, and I think it would be nice," Lando begs, trying to get you and Charles to do something together. "Exactly, it's snowing, and we're in Finland. It's not exactly a British winter." Charles grumbles into his coffee. "Yn, pretty please. This is the first time we're in your home country. I want to see it." Lando makes his eyes big, and Charles looks away quickly. 

You groan as Lando starts to smirk, knowing he's got you. "Fine, there is a trail we can take that the locals use. It's about 2 hours, both ways." Lando cheers and rushes to the bedroom. The tension rolls off of you and Charles in thick waves. Putting down his mug, he stands and leaves you with no words or kisses. 

45 minutes later, with multiple layers of clothing, you trail behind Lando, who talks Charles's ear off. "Yes, Lando, I know that." Charles smiles, kissing him gently as Lando takes a picture of the snow-covered mountains. It's another 15 minutes before Lando gets tired of you two not talking. 

"Cecile was wondering if she came here and visited you," Charles staggers, but Lando catches him without a beat. "Really? I guess the kids could come here and visit." It never occurred to you that they could come out and visit. "Yeah, it's a great idea, don't you think?" Charles stops walking as you pass him, smiling. 

"You could come home," Charles whispers, cheeks dusted pink from the cold weather. The scuff you let out had Lando's shoulders tense. He could feel the fight coming a mile away, and this was one place he didn't want to get stuck in the middle. "Do I have a home to come back to? Or will you kick me out again?" The sneer on your lips has Charles's face pulled tighter. 

"Charlie, don't." Lando pleads, placing a hand on his chest, wanting him to calm down. "Your home is with us and our kids." Charles's voice was eerily calm, and Lando knew that all hell would break loose with one more comment. "I think you mean my kids. Or did you forget Elijah isn't yours?" It was a low blow, but all the hurt and anger you've felt over the past 4 months was too much. How dare he come here and demand you go home when he's why you're not home. 

"You're right, he isn't mine. I don't even think you're mine too." Charles snaps as Lando looks between the two of you. Fear in his eyes, as this could be the end. The end of his family. "You're right! I was never yours! And you know what? I should've divorced you after you kicked Lando out. How he can still stay with you is a fucking miracle." Charles's face goes neutral, the same look he had when Mattia told him off. His emotions are gone. 

"When you two get home, I hope Lando has the fucking mind to leave you and take the kids and let your worse fucking nightmare come true!" "ENOUGH!" 

Charles and you jump, turning to see Lando standing there, breathing hard. "Just enough. Please?" He begs the emotions and thoughts he's held together, snapping. "What the fuck is the matter with you? The both of you?" Charles has the mind to look ashamed, as do you. "How could you say those horrible things to one another? We're married! We have TWO gorgeous children and a wonderful life. I know I wasn't there initially, that Charles held you together. That you told a lie because you were hurt and trying to not let it all kill you, but fuck." 

"Y/n," Lando turns, looking at you, before taking a deep breath. "What you've done, said, it hurt. You manipulated us in a way that has cracked this marriage in a way we'll never recover from. But, you know what. I don't care. I don't; you're the love of my life and the mother of my two gorgeous, brilliant, talented children. You could kill me, and I'd forgive you. But you are holding onto such hate inside you for Nico that it's hurting us all. Nico, he," Lando sucks in a breath. "Lando, don't." "Shut up," The two of them stare at one another before Lando looks back at you. 

"Nico, he didn't leave you. He bought a new apartment and wrote that letter to tell you how excited he was and how much he loved you. But you never read the letter because you thought he left you. And that's okay because if you had read that letter, you'd have never fallen in love with us, and we wouldn't have Cecile. Y/n, you're not in your 20s anymore. Please, you need that closure when you come home. Because this is not your home, please talk to Nico. There is a piece of you that you're hiding from us because of him, and I have ignored it for 16 years, but no more." Reeling from his words, Lando turns his attention to Charles. 

"And you," He points his finger at Charles, who curls back like Lando has slapped him. "Grow up, get over it. She didn't cheat on us, she didn't fuck him while you two were together and then lie. She never told us who the father was; she moved the truth around. I know that losing your father and Jules was the worst pain imaginable and then losing Anthoine, and that was another person who left you. Charles, we're not leaving you, but we will if you keep shoving us away." 

Charles looks away as the silence surrounds you. "Charles, Charlie, look at me." Charles looks up, staring deep into Lando's eyes. "Elijah is yours, Cecile is yours. Y/n and I are yours. Never think that will change. Elijah is your little boy, the first person he goes to. Listen to me. We're all going to therapy because I refuse to let this relationship fail. If you two don't get your shit together, I'm taking the kids and leaving. Now, fucking TALK!" Lando screams and shoves past Charles and down the trail, leaving you two some peace. 

You two stare at one another; Charles opens his mouth to say something but keeps closing it, unable to say a word. 

"You didn't follow me," Charles snaps his eyes, shocked at your words. "For four months, Charlie. You didn't call, text, write, or even ask about me. Four months of hell, and you come here and then demand me to come home." Stepping closer, Charles takes a step back. 

"A part of me was scared that when I got here, you'd kick me out. And that terrified me. I don't care that Nico is Elijah's," Charles swallows the words and clears his throat. "I care that you didn't trust me for 16 years. Care enough to tell me the truth. After talking to Nico and reading the letters, I understand why. But, fuck," He rips his hand out of his jacket and wipes the tears away. 

"It's all my fault. I went back to therapy and realized that, but a part of it is your fault, too." You scuff, but stop thinking it all over. "He hurt me more than I want to admit. I just wanted to cause him pain, and by causing him pain, I hurt us both." Charles hiccups, wiping away the tears faster. "Four months, that's how long Cecile and you haven't talked to me. We need you home. We'll go to therapy. Hell, I'll stop racing if it means you stay. I'm going to fight for our family." You throw yourself into his arms as you two cry in the snow. 

"Also, Lando is ready to kill Nico on command, and so am I. Mika told us what he said to you, and I'll skin that fucker." You laugh as Charles pulls you back into his chest. "Oh, also, could you possibly call your Uncle David off. While commenting, he's destroyed Lando and me, and it's not fun." You laugh louder, but it stops when the crunch of snow has you facing the sound. 

"Thank god, can we please go home. I'm about to freeze my balls off, and I know you both love my balls." Lando whines; Charles and you share a look and smile. "Yeah, let's go home." 

---------------------------

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[nightdivinity]

Drink Responsibly: Chapter 2

ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader

Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only!

Platonic!Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader

Warnings: Bad life choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o, they're vampires, loooong age gaps, no proofreading, we die like men, reverse harem. This is getting sexual. I’m sorry.

Writer's Note: I live, I die, I live again. I’m trying to keep an even pace when publishing, I promise. It’s just that finals week knocked me on my ass. I’ve basically got to prepare week 9 and 10 before it. Graduation is also right around the corner. Besides school and work though, this has also been my only focus. Also, sorry to everyone who reached out. I promise I’m not ignoring the kind messages and everything. I just keep forgetting. I’m so sorry. I’ll try to do better. Also got to write a bio and start publishing the other things I’ve been cooking up. This series is still a top priority though. I’m going to be more consistent from here on out.

When you finally make it back to the manor after a day of detours and horrible karaoke that makes your insides warm and fuzzy, Duke doesn’t let you open your own door. All the being nice was making you itch, and you kind of were missing being a strong independent person. It’s also not that you didn’t give it the good old college try, desperately jiggling the handle to open the door that he child locked as you look out the window in disbelief as he laughed his ass off outside your door.

To get back at him, the both of you ensued the pettiest game of unlocking and locking the doors. You, holding the door closed when he unlocked it and tried to pull it open, and scrambling to the driver’s seat to keep that door closed as well. Would it be bad if you admitted you liked the way his smug pretty face grew determined and slightly irritated? Never mind the dimples, the tick in his sharp jaw had your mind skipping a beat.

It was all fun and games until Alfred, who undoubtedly was watching you from the window, opened the other door just as you held yours shut and taunted Duke. “Can’t even open a wittle omega’s door?”

You’ll never forget the feral boyish smile he gave before sliding over the moving van’s hood and gently pushing Alfred out of the way.

His big frame wedged the door open letting wind into the cabin with enough pheromones to make your eyes water. In a panic you start trying to move away from him as far as possible. Cue, Alfred opening the other door your back was against, and you almost tumbling out.

“(L/N)? Just what on earth are you doing?”, Alfred questioned.

You stare up at the old Beta and your savior. His gloved hand on your back keeping your from tumbling out of the truck cab and busting your head on the gravel. Something all three men on the property were undoubtedly worried about as they watched you dangle too close to the ground. Not that you ever saw the curtain drawing closed from the third story. All you saw was help. Because surely Duke would knock it off with Alfred here.

“I’m poking the bear”, you tell him.

A large mitt, exactly like a bear’s, wraps around your ankle and tugs you out of Alfred’s hands and towards the open car door with a slightly pissed alpha waiting. Oh no. New employment be damned, you are not going out like this.

You scramble for purchase as your dragged across the leather seat. Your fingers digging into the crevice between the driver’s side and middle cushion for dear life. Desperately you try to shake Duke’s fingers off your one good ankle.

“(Y/N), get out of the car. You’re probably hurting yourself right now while doing this”, Duke warns.

There was an unspoken “Are you stupid?” that hung in the air. With Alfred here, the big, dimpled grin has disappeared, giving way to grim determination as Duke looked as though he was five seconds away from peeling the truck’s metal frame apart just to get at you better. You didn’t know what to do, it was better when you two were playing. The air was lighter, and you could breathe and believe he had best intentions at heart. Now you couldn’t keep playing, because he seems to be getting angrier every defiant second you spend clinging to cushions. Which made you want to burrow under the seats even more, away, and safe from the anger.

What you hadn’t noticed was how his anger started the second Alfred intervened. It’s not your fault, a lot has been happening and pissed-off Alphas take priority. The old man did though, and backed the adequate amount of steps away after ensuring you would not tumble out of the cab. If it wasn’t for the promise he made to Bruce to chaperone, and to you when he hired you, Alfred would have taken up the offer the others had given him. A nice vacation, the first he would have taken, just to give you and the rest space to figure each other out. Based on the messages from the family’s missing members, it would have been smart to leave Gotham. Or the continent.

“Don’t tell me what to do” you say.

“Get out of the truck”, Duke replies.

“No. Fuck off. I’m grown up, I can get out if I want.”

“I’m seriously running out of patience (y/n)”

“Good. Leave me alone Duke.”

“Terrible things are about to happen to you.”, Duke warns.

You squint at him and stick your tongue out at him. You know he’s just full of shit and would never do anything to actually hurt you. Nor would he allow you to be in any real danger. He’s got a trick up his sleeve and the muscles in your stretched leg were taut, waiting for release so you can roll and limp away to safety.

There was hardly anytime for you to plan your next step before Duke wrapped his hand around your ankle and starts untying your sneaker.

“Don’t”, you squeal.

He ignores you and gives you another bright smile full of sunshine and mischief. Dear God, he was going to kill you with that look on his face. Totally disarming and distracting as you barely register the shoe and sock getting tugged off.

“I mean it Duke! I give up! Look, see? I’m letting go!”, you beg.

You unclench your fingers and start waving your hands in his face. Trying like hell to sit up and defend yourself. Unfortunately, the hood on your hoodie was caught on the seatbelt latch in the cushion. Preventing you rolling farther away or sitting up and smushing his face away with your freed hands.

“I will never forgive you”, you solemnly vow.

“Yes, you will, look at your face, you’re smiling. You’ve already forgiven me.”

“They stink, I haven’t changed my socks in five days.”

“That’s another lie, I know for a fact that your laundry has been washed.”

“And that’s weird. We’re going to revisit that later though. Let my foot go. I also haven’t taken a shower yet; I ran a five K this morning.”

“In what? Your dreams? You know, I think we should go back to begging.”

You give an enraged shriek that devolves into panicked laugh as he starts torturing every available space on your foot. It was not an enjoyable experience. You were scrambling and flailing to get away but couldn’t since he seemed to have super strength. He also barely swatted your thick cast covered foot you tried to jam in his face. Tears start leaking out the corners of your eyes as you giggle and beg and plead for him to release you. Not that he listened to any of it. He seemed perfectly happy watching you writhe.

The merriment came to about as abrupt and end as it started as a sleek black muscle car growled into the driveway. Duke dropped your ankle and crawled into the truck cab with you. As defective an Omega as you were, you still picked up on the spike of adrenaline and what you thought was panic although it was smothered by anger. You scrunch your nose at the onslaught of pheromones that made you want to bump up and rub against him and soothe in any way you could. Because no. You’re not that kind of Omega.

“Duke?”, you ask.

He must have picked up on the nervous twitching from you. Or the tell-tale patter of your little heart trying to produce enough pheromones to get you out of this situation. Enough to tell the Alpha that’s laying on top of you, tantalizingly close, so close you could hear the clack that the wooden beads in his dreads made as he pressed flush against you. I’m in danger, help me. Is what should have been leaking out of every pore. Yet, you were broken.

“Shh, don’t let him see you.”, Duke says.

That didn’t help the matter. Especially when Duke used his freakishly long limbs to pull both sets of doors closed as quietly as possible. What was happening? Was someone trying to attack Bruce Wayne, billionaire-philanthropist and notorious Alpha who also seems to be in close contact with the most frightening infected Alpha in the country. Merely the thought of the shadow you often saw cast on buildings as dominance battles were fought all over in the different Gotham territories was enough to make you shake. You never saw Batman. No one whoever truly interacts with him lives to tell the tales. So just what is Bruce Wayne that he seems to be in an alliance with such a monster?

“Bruce! Get out here you chicken-shit piss-poor excuse of a sire”, a booming voice shout outside.

A seismic level shockwave rocked through you, and you couldn’t suppress the litany of whines that escaped as you dug your claws into duke’s yellow and black muscle shirt. It was embarrassing, you felt like a pup again.

In all your years you had never come anywhere close to that amount of dominance that was coming out in waves that even rattled the windows. Whoever this was, he was bad news. Even Duke knew it.

Duke’s eyes were flashing gold in the sudden darkness of the cab. You were once again struck by the oddity, but this world is full of strange things. To be fair, you were mostly preoccupied with other things, and you had a feeling that if you started digging into what was going on at the place you were hired then you would truly fall down the rabbit hole.

“Stop moving”, Duke whispers.

His hand wraps around one of your wrists that you had thrown up against his chest. Just for a little breathing room, rather than being pressed face first in a scent gland that would have you dry humping everything in sight. Despite the abject terror at the situation unfolding outside.

“Where do you get off siccing Dick on me in the middle of a meeting?”, the man demands.

You didn’t hear the heavy manor door creaking open. So you had no idea just who this man was talking to. During the struggle with Duke earlier and the tickle fight, you didn’t see Alfred. You doubt the man stuck around during the shenanigans. Which begs the question. Just who was he talking to?

“Really? The silent treatment. You really are too scared to face me huh?”, the unknown man says.

Oh no. That sounded right outside your moving truck. No, nonononononono. You could feel the anger coming off him as it made your teeth chatter.

Your worst fear came true as the driver’s side door, above your head, was ripped open. No. It was ripped off the truck cab in a screech of metal that had you cringing and trying to burrow farther into Duke away from it. You were still stuck on the damn seatbelt thing that was jammed into the back of your neck. All you could do was look up and try not to burst into tears.

Because the man who just opened your door was death. You were teetering between pissing yourself from fear, and trying to control the inappropriate lust that was starting to ride you hard. Because damn. That voice, that dominance, paired with that attitude and face. My God, it’s like he was made perfectly for you. Or any Omega really. A fact that was cemented when the stern bluish-grey eyes that stare down at you flash a crimson red. Sploosh. You seriously needed to get your head checked.

“(Y/N)?”, mystery man says.

“How do you know my name?”

“Bruce told us he got you. Shit. I thought he was just pulling his usual shit”, he swears.

You were about to question who he was and what all was going on, but Duke beat you to it.

“(Y/N) this is Jason. I’m sorry, I didn’t think he would ever come back home. Speaking of what are you doing here Jason?”, Duke says.

Jason straightens, his eyes flashing another dangerous candy apple red color that brought another bout of hot oozing warmth where it definitely didn’t need to be. Not that you needed to worry about it. Like you said, you were broken. Although you couldn’t help but wonder if being by lethal amounts of Alpha fueled testosterone would kick your damaged hardware into gear. Food for thought at a later time.

“I have just as much of a right to be here, if you checked your phone you would know what was going on. Bruce… interfered with a business interaction of mine when I refused to come back to the Manor.”

“So you decided to just go ahead and give him what he wants, really Jay?”

“No. I’m going to kill him. First though, get off of her.”

The callous way he mentioned killing your employer was chilling you to the bone. You bet he could do it to. From the heavily muscled frame that was subtly flexing, his old brown leather jacket creaking as it strained. He took to cracking his knuckles as he stared down at you both. Too make matters worse, there was a small scar that twisted the left side of his face in a permanent smirk as it ran up from the corner of his slips, across his high cheekbones, and disappeared above his ear and into that thick black hair. Hair that contained a curious white streak that made you want to take a closer look. Not that you would. You were smart. Everything about this man shouted danger.

While Duke was massive in his own right, Jason looked as though he could rip linebackers in half for funsies. You believe that those thick corded thighs that your eyes had zeroed in on, the ones that his frayed jeans were struggling to contain, those are rugby thighs. Once again, it’s not your fault, you were born to be this pervy to those of the Alpha secondary gender category. Just like Deltas were made for Betas. This is all evolution's fault that you wanted to climb a psycho killer like a tree and purr. Ooooh, maybe you could get Duke to wear a firema- nope. Annnnnd you’re done. You seriously need to focus if you’re going to somehow finesse your way out of this situation.

“What are you going to do? Make me?” Duke says.

You almost think he’s teasing Jason, then you hear the bite of a challenge to an invading Alpha. Dear God, it’s almost like you’re a kid on the playground again. This was so not fun nor was it sexy. Especially with you sitting so close to the crossfire.

“I said, get off.”, Jason start growling.

Oh good, now we’re slowly becoming dogs. This is great. Totally not borderline psychotic in any way.

“You didn’t want to come back, so you don’t get to have her. Back off Jay.”, Duke warns.

“No one here gets to judge me; you know the reason why the family is so broken is sitting up there. Plotting. If I had known- well- doesn’t matter. Get off before I rip you to pieces. I might till do it, send a fun little message to our psycho father by spreading his precious new pet’s blood all over the front steps.”

“Isn’t that what Dick said to you when you met?”

“Say his name again and I will make good on my promise.”

“Can I just say one thing?”, you ask.

The tension was getting so thick you could cut it with a cheap plastic spork. Honestly, you suspect they could’ve just kept going all night if they had to with the witty one-liners. You were getting tired though, and all this negativity was not good for your heart.

“Hon, not right now, I’m winning.”, Duke tries to shush you.

First of all, how dare he shush you. You had just as much of a right to talk as they did. Duke is different from most Alpha’s you’ve met. The silent prejudice was still hanging in that back of your mind though. Omegas are useless without Alphas. So be a good little one and sit there and be pretty. Don’t ever think of talking. You know he’s not like all the other assholes you’ve encountered. What he just said though started ringing those little alarms that told you he might be though.

“No, you’re not.”, you pause and notice the slight smirk across Jason’s scarred face, “Neither of you are. Can I please get up and get my boxes in while you two have your pissing match?”

Jason lets out a surprised bark, and you give him brownie points for keeping his mouth shut besides that.

“I’ll let you up, once he goes inside.”, Duke tells you.

“No. I want to get up now.”, you say.

Duke’s next response gets cut off as you watch Jason reach over you and grab Duke’s dreads. There was a slight struggle, but the comforting weight of Duke’s body between your thighs is gone within seconds. You almost miss it. You almost feel bad when you finally wrench your hoodie free and look out the truck door and see Duke on the ground with Jason’s hand around his throat. It was ok. You can tell no real weight was being put behind it. It was just one Alpha gently reminding a younger one to submit. You’ve seen this shit all the time.

You also weren’t going to lie; the dominance was definitely starting to rev your engines.

“Please don’t kill him, I need his help with the boxes and my wheelchair”, you call out.

Jason turns to look at you, the red in his eyes damning as he stares into you. Oooh. You can have a lot of fun with that. Maybe you can ask him to pretend to be your sleep paralysis demon that has his wicked way with yo- nope. No roleplaying. No playing with these Alphas in any sexual manner. You need money and a place to stay, and while sex is nice, everyone always moves on to more compelling Omegas that aren’t broken. Besides, you’re pretty sure these Alphas don’t know their strength. Nope, you’re good without all the heartbreak and hospital visits if you go down that route.

“Boxes?”, Jay asks.

“Yeah, I’m moving in, didn’t anyone tell you?”, you ask him.

“No. They just told me- nothing. I’ll help, you don’t need shit-for-brains”, Jay says.

He gets up, slightly pushing Duke’s face to the side and into the muddy wet gravel. You can’t help but wince and give Duke a sympathetic look. Not that he was paying you any mind. His lovely brown eyes were now a liquid gold that screamed revenge. You just pray that he can hold off long enough to get your wheelchair from the back.

“What- what happened to her?”, Jay asks.

“Motherfu- get my chair”, you boss.

“She got chewed on at one of Cobblepot’s clubs”, Duke tells him.

“Shit, none of the others know huh.”, Jason sighs.

He runs his hands through his hair, and you’re stuck looking at it again. It looked fluffy and silky. Of course, it would put you in a trance, the same as the wood beads in Duke’s dreads. You might actually have a thing for hair now that you thought about it.

“No, we’ll have a war when they do.”, Duke replies cheerfully.

“Why?”, you ask. You were genuinely confused as they kept talking circles around you.

“Don’t worry about it Hon. Let’s get you inside”, Duke groans as he gets up from the dirt.

Jason reaches in and lightly grabs your good wrist as he pulls you out. You willingly let him, marveling at that the body made from the gods. Would it be bad if you reached around and gently pinched his ass? It’s just curiosity. So much muscle, how much fat?

Duke looks slightly peeved when he grabs the chair from the back and notices you in Jason’s arms. You couldn’t help but give him a slight smug wave from the safety of King Kong’s arms.

“I like the bell, maybe we should find some streamers for the back too. There’s no way she’ll get lost.”

And just like that, you lost it as Giant 1 and 2 dissolved in a fit of giggles. I’m going to kill them. Hopefully before your hormones and pheromones killed you first. Because damn it, you did seize the opportunity to smack the ass of the jack ass.

That ass is not only iconic and slightly hard, but it jiggled a little too. This is going to be so much fun living here.

#abo batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yeaaaaaaah it's getting yandere #vamp!batfam #chapter 3 is written #I just need to make the bio and post headcannons first #hopefully before spring semester starts #also been playing arkham knights #been a big inspiration to me a little with this story

[charlesslut16]

-Ugly christmas sweaters-

summary : lando and you go to a christmas party, which had the theme 'ugly christmas sweaters' but lando does not like his sweater....

PAIRING : lando norris x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : i hope you like this imagines! Request some more, as we have not every day in the dezember masterlist!

december masterlist ; masterlist 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One week before your friend's Christmas party, you bought Christmas sweaters, ugly ones, as the theme had been 'ugly Christmas sweaters'. You knew that Lando didn't like the theme, but for you and your friends' sake, he would do it.

So two days before the party, you confronted and showed Lando the Christmas sweaters. Obviously you knew that Lando wouldn't be as happy, but if you were being honest, you could not care less.

“You’re telling me that we—no, I am going to be wearing that?” Lando softly lifted one of the sweaters, holding it as if it was a bag of 2 weeks old garbage. As if he was going to be infected with something dangerous.

“For our friend’s Christmas party?”

The splash of colors and patterns really confused him; it seems like the designer operated on a whim. Every thing looked out of order and nothing fit together. Like someone had destroyed it and then.

"Come on, it’s not even that bad! The theme was ugly Christmas sweaters, and I picked out the best ones the market had on the hanger, I think they're cute," you stated, defending the sweaters you had bought a week ago.

"This is far from cute! It is horrendous. Your taste in fashion must be very questionable," he scoffed, nonchalantly returning the sweaters to their initial resting place on the chair, so that he did not have to look at them anymore.

"I've practically styled your entire wardrobe, and you've received so many compliments because of me!" you argued back. Now he had gone too far, to question your fashion taste, although you had styled most of his clothes combinations.

"Alright, but your sweater choices are still terrible!" Lando countered.

Ignoring his protests, you insistently hold the sweater in front of him, trying to picture the look despite his puzzled expression. You knew that even if they did not look so good, Lando could pull them off nonetheless.

“Not in a million years will you catch me wearing that. In will never live this outfit down.” Lando declared, hands up in protest.

But, you didn’t care whatsoever, as your determination knew no bounds.

“Stop moving, you're making this harder.”

“What—” he started, but you were already on a mission, determined to make him at least consider the sweater. Even if Lando was a grown man, you needed to put it on him, so that he could see how it looked on him.

“It does suit you.”

“Thanks for the compliment, but you can't just say that by imagining how I'd look in it!”

“Why don't you try it on?” You extended your hand, catching him off guard. His reaction was too slow, and you ended up tossing it at him.

“I'll wait for you.”

Lando sighed loudly, unfolding the sweater and eyeing it with skepticism. He wasn't convinced, but just trying it on wouldn't bee that bad.

“Fine, but don't get your hopes up. It still looks absolutely horrendous.”

As he struggled to put it on, you couldn't help but laugh at the sight. The vibrant colors clashed with his usual style, making it even more amusing. The orange colour he normally would was bright and colourful but this. Absolutely vibrant.

“Ta-da! Happy now?” Lando struck a pose, a mockingly exaggerated smile on his face. You knew that he hated every second of it. Like when he drove and became second and not first, or when his brother hated the last donut that he wanted.

You chuckled, "Look! It doesn't even look that bad! You can totally pull it off. I mean, you can totally pull off everything that somebody gives."

Rolling his eyes, Lando played along with your answers and exclamations.

"Sure, sure. It looks fantastic on me. Just a bunch of silly trees and tiny elves on this sweater with squiggly lines—seriously, what were you thinking when you added this to the cart? It ruined everything good on me."

You shrugged lightly, unfazed by his words. Lando often exaggerated things, and you were accustomed to it. It was nothing unusual for Lando to overreact and overdramatic, things as they were or had been.

“I expect you to stick with this—we've got just two days until the party.”

“But can we not switch—”

In the middle of his sentence, you stood up and walked away into the kitchen to make you a hot cocoa and to go back to your shared bedroom, so you stopped hearing his complaints and overdramatic nature.

Two days later, the day of the Christmas party, you had the exact same conversation, but you knew that Lando could do nothing about it, as he knew that he would do almost everything for you in a heartbeat.

His complaining tone faded as you rushed down the stairs with the matching sweater in your hand. Quickly draping it over your white shirt and white skirt, you settled on the couch in the living room. As you scrolled on your phone to pass the time, you later heard shuffling in the background.

“Ready to go, my handsome man?” you looked up, seeing your boyfriend in the sweater you bought—he hadn’t changed it. You gave him a big smile, rising from your seat, as you wanted to hug him and tell him how good he looked.

“Looking good there, Norris.”

“Keep it up, and I’ll run up the stairs to change,” he teased, soon linking arms with you as you headed towards the door. But you knew that he was just teasing, he would not change as the time was at a limit.

“Honestly, though, I don’t think I look too shabby in this,” he asserted, eliciting a giggle from you.

“What can I say? I have an eye for what works.”

“Maybe you're onto something.”

"Maybe I need to trust you more, with clothes."

"You should."

He opened the door, so he could let you both out and locked the door after you both, but before you could walk to the car, he pulled you into his chest and gave you a romantic long kiss and then pulled away to look into your eyes.

"I love you, angel"

"I love you, handsome."

#f1 #formula one #f1 fluff #formula 1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris #lando imagine #lando norris one shot #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando fluff #lando x reader #lando norris f1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #christmas #masterlist #ln4 x you

[malk1ns]

Most definitely talking about Sid's upcoming heat and Sid's yapping that he doesn't need any help but Geno knows he will get a call the first night of a whimpering and desperate Sid

👀

"Stop scenting me," Sid snaps the second Zhenya sits down.

Zhenya rolls his eyes. He hasn't even caught his breath from his last shift. Fuck this altitude, and honestly, fuck the Avs too, Sid's cozy little friendship with MacKinnon be damned.

"I'm serious," Sid continues, scooting down the bench to make room for Rusty, who practically dives over the boards to avoid a too many men. Zhenya obediently scoots along with him, grabbing Rusty around the waist to keep him steady.

"Thanks," Rusty wheezes, and Zhenya pats his shoulder before turning back to Sid.

Sid's glaring at him. He hates being ignored under normal circumstances, and it only gets worse when he's careening towards heat—a fact that Sid is strenuously denying.

"Sorry," Zhenya says, making his eyes big and ducking his head. "Smell good, Sid, can't help it."

Sid's eyes narrow. After so many years, he's wise to Zhenya's tricks, and he's apparently not far enough into pre-heat to fall for them anyway. Zhenya adjusts his mental calculations forward a day. "I don't know what you think you're smelling, but it's not me. I'm not due for another two weeks, and we talked about this. I don't need you this time."

"Okay," Zhenya says placidly, tapping Sid's knee. Sid's cute when he gets all worked up and indignant like this.

"Hey—" Sid sputters, probably picking up Zhenya's amusement, but then coach is tapping his line in, so Sid can't do anything but glare as he swings over the boards.

Zhenya watches as he swings a big arc towards the goal, changing direction so abruptly that the d-man shadowing him loses an edge and hits the ice. Sid turns to snap at the guy, and Zhenya readjusts his math again, this time back a few hours.

Pissing Sid off always makes things move faster.

-

They drop the game in OT, but that's okay. They played well, better than they have since the trade deadline, and the shock of losing Jake is finally starting to wear off. Sid doesn't look hollowed-out whenever he looks to his left any more, and Bunting is the exact type of yappy, determined presence on Zhenya's wing that he's always played best with. The postseason is still a reach, but suddenly the games they're playing seem like they mean something again, and that's all Zhenya wants, really.

Playoffs are nice, but Zhenya's old enough now that he doesn't live and die by each individual season anymore. If he can keep his production up for a few more years, avoid major injury and quiet the people who constantly call for him to be traded, he'll be happy.

Well. That, and getting Sid to finally admit that what they've been doing for nearly two decades now isn't just friends helping each other out. But Zhenya can be patient on that front.

Seeing Jake in Carolina colors is hard, and Zhenya discreetly wipes his eyes during the tribute video. Sid doesn't bother, staring up at the enormous new jumbotron with shiny eyes. The win makes it easier to stomach, though, and Jake stops by the locker room after the game, lingering well past when the Hurricanes' bus must have left for the hotel.

He and Sid talk for a long, long time, tucked away in a hallway while Rusty and Zhenya linger, ready to head off any media that comes this direction. They're left alone, though, and when Jake finally slips past them, he's knuckling at his eyes. Zhenya politely doesn't mention it when he pulls Jake into one last hug.

Sid's marching for the parking lot, and Zhenya has to hustle to catch up with him. When he draws even, he practically trips over his feet—Sid smells ripe, fertile and alluring, like he's minutes from dropping into heat. Surely he feels it by now.

Sid slides him a sharp glare. "Don't fucking start," he mutters, angling away when Zhenya leans towards him. "You were right, okay? But it doesn't mean anything."

Zhenya takes a deep inhale and consciously steps to the side, giving Sid his space. "Call if you need," is all he says, cutting towards his car and speeding up before he can give into the impulse to manhandle Sid back to his house and his bed and keep him there.

"I won't!" Sid calls across the garage. Zhenya shakes his head.

-

It doesn't always go this way. Sometimes Sid invites him back, sends him texts like i think it's starting soon and would you mind...? as if any alpha in their right mind would turn Sidney Crosby in heat down. He gets squirrelly when it happens too many times in a row, though, acts like Zhenya's going to hold him down and bite his claim into Sid's neck without permission, and tries to put distance between them.

It never lasts, though.

Zhenya's in his pajamas and glasses, settling in with his Kindle, when his phone rings.

"G," Sid whimpers over the line, and Zhenya sits upright, the sound of a distressed omega plucking at his instincts even at a distance. "G, where are you?"

Zhenya fists his hand in his duvet. "You say you don't want," he says carefully, listening to Sid's gasps, wondering if he'd managed to get something from his toybox or if he fell into it so fast that he's using his hand. Sid doesn't take care of himself like Zhenya would if they were mated, and he's come over more than once to Sid on his belly and whimpering because his own fingers don't get him right.

That's what Zhenya's always been for.

"I didn't mean it," Sid whines, voice muffled. "G, I need you."

Zhenya pulls the phone away from his ear and looks at the screen. Not even ten, and they have an off-day tomorrow. "Sid, you say I stay home this time," he says, but he's throwing his blanket back and getting up. "You change mind?"

"I was lying," Sid moans, frustration edging into his voice. "I was...G, please, you..."

He's falling deeper into it now. Zhenya hesitates; Sid had sounded so sure, more than usual, but...

"Geno," Sid says, practically a sob, and the decision is made. There's only so much his own instincts will allow him to ignore, and Sid calls him every time—if he didn't want Zhenya coming over, he shouldn't be calling.

It takes Zhenya a few tries to remember Sid's new door code, but when he steps inside, the smell of Sid's heat practically bowls him over. Zhenya has to stop and breathe, adjust to the overpowering sugar-and-marine salt permeating the air, before he can walk without stumbling to Sid's bedroom.

"Oh, Sid," he says, pausing at the doorway.

"Please," Sid begs. He hadn't gotten to his toys after all, and he's practically twisted in a pretzel, two fingers stuffed inside himself while his other hand strips his dick. He's come once already by the mess on his stomach, but his dick is so hard it's purple, and his face is twisted in agony, not pleasure.

"Shh," Zhenya croons, voice dropping to alpha-register all on its own. He's across the room and stripping his clothes off before he's even registered it, but when he gets hands on Sid's torso Sid takes in a deep, shuddering breath and relaxes.

"G," he mumbles, looking up at Zhenya through tear-damp eyelashes. "You left me."

"I'm sorry," Zhenya murmurs, gentling Sid onto his back, pushing at his shoulder until his hand slides free. His fingers are shiny with his own slick, and Zhenya pauses to suck them clean, eyelids fluttering at the taste. Sid watches him, chest heaving, and when Zhenya lets Sid's fingers drop from his mouth, Sid trails them down Zhenya's face and chest, resting his hand over Zhenya's heart. "I'm here now," Zhenya says, leaning down to kiss Sid. "I'll take care of you."

"Yes," Sid sighs as Zhenya slides into him, letting his legs butterfly out and his head loll to one side.

Zhenya stares at Sid's neck, exposed and there, and practically bites through his lip, fucking Sid harder. He wants to bite Sid so, so badly, has for years, but Sid always pulls back just when they're on the precipice of turning this into something more, always ices Zhenya out when it starts to feel too serious, and Zhenya's not going to push—it has to be Sid's decision.

Something of what he's feeling must be leaking through, because Sid opens his eyes and looks at him. His eyes are blurry; he's deep in it now, and every exhale is a half-purr as Zhenya's knot starts to grow and catch at him with every thrust. "Mmmm," he moans, the perfect picture of an omega submitting to his alpha, but the way he tilts his head to expose his neck is all purposeful, as is the way he coyly looks at Zhenya.

"Sid," Zhenya groans, grinding his teeth. He can't stop himself from dropping to his forearms and getting his noise into the crook of Sid's neck, licking frantically over Sid's scent glands. The smell of them blooms in the room, heady and intoxicating, and Zhenya's thrusts go ragged and desperate as his knot swells. "Sid, please." He feels drunk, he doesn't even know what he's asking for, opening his mouth around the meaty muscle where Sid's neck meets his shoulder.

Sid's hand is at the back of his head, but he's pushing, not pulling Zhenya back, and Zhenya's teeth dig into Sid's skin. His "bite me" is barely audible, but it's the loudest thing Zhenya's ever heard, echoing over the roaring of blood in his ears and their breath.

He bites. The world falls away.

-

When Zhenya swims back to consciousness, his knot still hasn't gone down. Somehow, Sid had managed to get them on their sides, and he's petting over Zhenya's sweaty back, nuzzled up against Zhenya's chest and humming.

"Sid?" Zhenya croaks, eyes flying open when he remembers. "Oh, fuck, Sid, I—"

"Shh, it's okay." It's Sid's turn to soothe Zhenya, purring until Zhenya's heart slows down. Zhenya's nostrils flare as he inhales, and all he can smell is happy, contented omega.

"We..." Zhenya's floundering, head spinning as he tries to put the pieces together.

"I asked you to do it, bud," Sid says. He sounds quiet, but sure. "I wanted it. I was..." He sighs, and Zhenya can feel him shrug. "We can talk about it later, but...I was talking to Jake, and he said, you know, we're lucky—it doesn't matter what happens, because in the end we always have each other. And then I got home, and I was thinking about how he's right. You've had plenty of chances to leave, and you never did. And you always come when I need you. So...it felt stupid, to be pushing you away still."

"Sid," Zhenya groans, half infuriated and half overcome with fondness. If they weren't still knotted together he'd pin Sid down and bite at his sensitive, ticklish stomach as punishment until Sid was laughing and kicking him away. "You say to me when you think these things, like, don't make me come run over so late, scare me like I do what you don't want."

Sid shrugs again, and now he smells smug. "You always come when I call," he says, and Zhenya can't even argue that point.

He wouldn't want to, anyway.

#sidgeno #my writing #a/b/o

[corruptedcaps]

Possessive

Oh, quiet your whining. I'll give this body back to your girlfriend when I've completed my unfinished business or whatever. You think I want to possess your Rebecca’s body? It's so dorky and unathletic. Don't forget that I used to be head cheerleader before I died, so this is a huge step down in my eyes. It's not my fault her body is the only one I could possess.

But let me tell you something, I won't waste this opportunity. Being stuck as a ghost as so dull, and now I get to experience the living again. Sure, her body might not be perfect, but I'll make it work. And hey, I'll even bring some of that cheerleading spirit into her life. She'll thank me later when she's the most popular girl in school. So, quit complaining and let me do my thing. I promise you, I'll give her body back in top-notch condition. Besides, it's not like you have any other options. You want me gone? Help me finish my business, and then I'll leave you all alone. Deal?

How am I supposed to find out my unfinished business if I have to be stuck in your girlfriend’s clothes? That's why I went shopping for clothes more my style. It's not like I can roam around in those frumpy outfits of hers. I need something more alluring and fabulous. More my liking. Her body actually isn’t as bad as I thought. Especially after I hit the gym with it. Only a week in and it’s already more flexible.

So, I hit the stores and picked out some seriously sexy clothes that will make her old wardrobe look like a joke. Picture this: a sleek, black leather mini-skirt that shows off her now toned legs. I paired it with a low-cut, crimson crop top that accentuates her nearly perfect curves. Oh, and let's not forget the stilettos that add a touch of sophistication and make me feel powerful.

But the real showstopper is the crimson lace lingerie set I bought. What a peek? Of course you do. It's daring, it's fierce, and it's exactly what I need to remind myself that I'm still desirable in this world. It may be Rebecca's body, but I'm the one wearing it, and I'm determined to make the most of it.

So, here I am, looking fabulous, ready to take on the world. This unfinished business won't know what hit it once I get started. Oh, and don't worry, I'll return all of Rebecca's clothes to their boring place in the closet when I'm done. But until then, this body is all mine, and I'm going to make the most of it.

I was finding it hard and frankly boring trying to figure out what unfinished business I had so I recruited my old friends to help. I must say, it's been quite entertaining to see how easily I've manipulated them into following me, all without them knowing it's me inside Rebecca's body. It turns out that all she ever needed was a strong personality at the wheel.

My old clique fell right into line, just like the good old days. They can't resist being around the "it" girl that I’ve made Rebecca into. It's amusing to watch them compete for my attention, trying to be the one closest to the new popular girl. It’s kind of hawt making them bend to my will as Rebecca, when only a few weeks ago they were her bullies.

They listen to my every word, take my suggestions as law, and treat me like a queen bee as they should. I've perfected the art of a withering stare and a cutting remark that leaves them quivering in their boots. They want to be me, to be close to me, and they're falling over themselves to earn my approval.

I know you're mad that I've been taking so long, but you can't deny the improvements I've made to Rebecca's life, her body, her social status. Look at how she's thriving now, thanks to me! Besides, it's not every day your girlfriend becomes the center of attention and the most sought-after girl in town, you should be happy.

I get it, you miss the girl you knew, but let's be real, she was never this captivating. With me in control, she's more confident, more assertive, and more irresistible. I may be in her body, but I've taken it to heights she never dreamed of reaching. Never in a million years would she had tried out for the cheerleading team let alone run it like I do now.

Plus you can’t say you’re not happy with how hot I’ve made her. Weeks in the gym has given her an even better body than I had before. Her naturally slender frame was crying out to be whipped into shape. Plus look at the added effect it’s had on these tits, aren’t they glorious?

Tell you what, why don’t you touch them? Hell, give them a good squeeze. Oh fuuuuck yessss just like that. Bet Rebecca didn’t let you do this. You’re getting horny for bitchy little Rebecca aren’t you? Go on big boy, show me how much you love what I’ve done to her by taking out your dick and stroking it for me. Oh my, that’s certainly bigger than I expected from you. Yes stroke it for me baby, stroke it for baddie Becky. Oh you like that don’t you? Becky is a much better name don’t you think. Cum for me baby, cum for Becky.

You can’t be mad at me for making you cum every day this week, I’m just doing what comes natural to me, which is being a hawt piece of ass. Plus I’m not forcing you to do anything. I know you’ve been looking up ways to exercise me from Rebecca’s body to try and soothe your guilty conscience but I’m sorry to tell you babe, I’m never leaving. It’s my body now.

I’ve realized my unfinished business is to live a long and full life as Becky, the ultimate bitch. Come closer, darling. Look into my eyes and see the fire that burns within me. I’m more alive now then she ever was and even more than I had ever been in my own body. Being Becky has been the best thing to ever happen to me and soon it will be for you too.

You see, while you were busy searching for ways to banish me, I was doing my own research. Those books you've been reading, the ones on magic and exorcism, well, they caught my interest too. And I've delved into the dark arts, learning things that would make your skin crawl.

I now possess power beyond your wildest imagination, and I must say, it's quite liberating. I've discovered spells that can bend the very fabric of reality, including one that allows me to remove someone's morals. It's a fascinating little trick, and I believe you'll find it quite enlightening.

Like right now I’m sure you’re feeling all urges to purge me from this gorgeous body I’ve perfected just evaporate from your mind. In fact you feel a deep devotion to me, Becky, your gorgeous girlfriend. As much as I love that dick of yours i need a man to match it but don’t worry, I’ve got that all worked out. I’m a matter of moments you’ll be my handsome, strong and arrogant boyfriend who loves to bully as much as I do. You’ll have no memory of Rebecca or the loser that she was. All that you’ll remember is Becky.

Oh, darling, you know how much it excites me to see you bullying others. It's hard to keep my hands off you when you're radiating that aura of arrogance and charm. Who would have thought that beneath that sexy exterior, there was a deliciously dark and handsome bully? The way you sneer at those lesser souls, mock them, and make them tremble in fear—it's a work of art. Ugh I can’t stand it anymore, let’s get back to your car and fuck, it’s so hawt to hear you yell out Becky!

#f2f #bitchification #evil bitch #female possession #corrupted pov

[aziraphales-library]

Hello!! I was just wondering if you knew of any fics similar to In Love We Rise by AJ_Constantine, like in the sense that they're slowly exploring and figuring each other out, like eventually progressing up to kissing and then, y'know, but in a fluffy kind of way? Im not sure if that makes any sense tho but thank you anyway! (P.s. i love this blog so much, you people are actually amazing at this! I hope you all have a lovely day/night :])

Hi! You might be interested in our #developing relationship tag for fics along these lines. Here are some more for you...

Love and Lust in Mesopotamia by The_Bentley (E)

Living among humans means sampling their activities, including the sexual ones. There's only one problem. Crawly isn't interested in women, but he is in Aziraphale, who is attracted to him in return. If Crawly agrees, Aziraphale would like to show him that physical affection can exist between two beings who are presenting as the same gender.

It's Getting Hard, This Holding Back by ZehWulf (T)

6,000-odd years is a long time to evolve a romantic relationship, but as a near-immortal being, Crowley had patience. True, they had lost momentum right around reaching the Speaking Looks and Meaningful Gestures stage, but at the time Crowley had been more or less content to let things idle. Now, he was determined to shift things back into gear, and that gear was Explicitly Romantic Physical Expressions of Affection.

Resonance by Macx (T)

They had been friends for six millennia. They had been on their side. There had only been their side. Of course, they had never known it until it was all supposed to end. They had stood against their respective sides, had been hurt, had suffered, had felt desperation, fear and terror. Now it was suddenly over and both Crowley and Aziraphale have to deal with the consequences. Not just those of Up Yours and Down There. They have come a long way at a very slow pace. They have come so much further in just within day. And they were still going incredibly fast, changing, evolving, becoming something that might be part of the Ineffable Plan...

The professor, the old crush, the new love by AccroV (E)

Aziraphale Fell is an english literature professor who freaks out when he discovers that his new colleague is his ex best-friend and crush from high school : the one and only Anthony Crowley. They didn't talk for years after one night in high school. What can happen now ? An AU with : high school memories, awkward flirting and lot of good feelings

Chemistry by Twilightcitysky (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley have been living among humans for 6000 years, but there have always been parts of the human experience they've chosen to avoid (like allergies, head colds, and having to use the loo). They've also never let hormones get in the way of making rational decisions, because they didn't have any hormones to speak of. That's all about to change.

Introduction to Touch by sheendav (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley survive the Not-Pocalypse and profess their love for one another, but Aziraphale has tremendous anxiety about pursuing a physical relationship with Crowley. He genuinely wishes to move forward, but past fears surrounding touch, intimacy and body image are prohibiting him from acting on what his heart (and corporation) really want. Crowley is ready to go as slowly and carefully as needed to be there for his Angel as they pursue their new "Arrangement" step by careful, sweet step.

And the one you mentioned...

In Love We Rise by AJ_Constantine (E)

Ever since the thwarted apocalypse, Aziraphale and Crowley have gradually expanded the boundaries of their relationship. Aziraphale has delighted in slow progression of lingering touches, tender embraces and chaste kisses. He enjoys the demon's company more than ever, but one evening he finds himself in an odd sort of mood, nettlesome and heartsore, and declines Crowley's offer to take him out to dinner. He figures that once he has a good sulk in the privacy of his bookshop, he'll get over it. Crowley decides that won't do, and drags the recalcitrant angel out on a mysterious mission, which ends up taking them on a path that neither of them expects it to.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #adult omens #developing relationship #fluff #mod d

[hanniluvi]

( 📍 ) UGLY CHRISTMAS SWEATERS — BEOMGYU

[ DAY SIX ] of the advent calendar !

( 📍 ) SYNOPSIS . convincing your boyfriend to wear ugly christmas sweaters with you might not be that hard after all..

( ᥫ᭡ ) PAIRING . bf!beomgyu x gn!reader

( 📍 ) GENRE . fluff ~~ WORD COUNT 0.5K+ ( 545 )

( ᥫ᭡ ) WARNINGS . gyu got a little attitude (sassy men) BUT its tolerable .. imo .. other than that, nothing else ?

( 📍 ) NOTE . i heart beomgyu 😊🤍

“You’re telling me that we—no, I’m gonna be wearing that?” Beomgyu gingerly lifts one of the sweaters, holding it as if it were a bag of 2 weeks old garbage. “For our friend’s Christmas party?” The clash of colors and patterns really confused him; it seems like the designer operated on a whim.

"Come on, it’s not even bad! The theme was ugly Christmas sweaters, and I picked out the best onesI think they're cute," you retorted, defending the sweaters you'd ordered weeks ago.

"This is far from cute! Your taste in fashion must be questionable," he scoffs, nonchalantly returning the sweaters to their initial resting place on the chair.

"I've practically styled your entire wardrobe, and you've received so many compliments because of me!" you argue.

"Alright, but your sweater choices are still terrible!" Beomgyu counters.

Ignoring his protests, you insistently hold the sweater in front of him, trying to picture the look despite his puzzled expression.

“Not in a million years will you catch me wearing that,” Beomgyu declares, hands up in protest.

But, you didn’t care whatsoever as your determination knows no bounds. “Stop moving, you're making this harder.”

“What—” he starts, but you're already on a mission, determined to make him at least consider the sweater.

“It does suit you.”

“Thanks for the compliment, but you can't just say that by imagining how I'd look in it!”

“Why don't you try it on?” You extended your hand, catching him off guard. His reaction was too slow, and you ended up tossing it at him. “I'll wait.”

Beomgyu sighed, unfolding the sweater and eyeing it with skepticism. “Fine, but don't get your hopes up.”

As he struggled to put it on, you couldn't help but laugh at the sight. The vibrant colors clashed with his usual style, making it even more amusing.

“Ta-da! Happy now?” Beomgyu struck a pose, a mockingly exaggerated smile on his face.

You chuckled, "Look! It doesn't even look that bad! You can totally pull it off."

Rolling his eyes, Beomgyu played along, "Sure, sure. It looks fantastic on me. Just a bunch of silly trees and tiny elves on this sweater with squiggly lines—seriously, what were you thinking when you added this to the cart?"

You shrugged, unfazed by his words. Beomgyu often exaggerated things, and you were accustomed to it. “I expect you to stick with this—we've got just an hour until the party.”

“But can’t we switch—” His complaining tone faded as you rushed down the stairs with the matching sweater in your hand. Quickly draping it over your white shirt, you settled on the couch in the living room. As you scrolled on your phone to pass the time, you later heard shuffling in the background.

“Ready to go?” you looked up, seeing your boyfriend in the sweater you bought—he hadn’t changed it. You gave him a big smile, rising from your seat.

“Looking good there, Choi.”

“Keep it up and I’ll run up the stairs to change,” he teased, soon linking arms with you as you headed towards the door.

“Honestly, though, I don’t think I look too shabby in this,” he asserted, eliciting a giggle from you.

“What can I say? I have an eye for what works.”

“Maybe you're onto something.”

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[exceptionimagines]

Lying In Wait

(Not my gif)

(Changing the meeting scenario yet again so enjoy this little post that contains the old one: not the one where you have a boyfriend.)

- Have you ever seen a hawk in person? Not in a zoo or an aviary: somewhere where they're caged and confined to one area, stripped of the necessity to act according to nature. No, I mean seeing one completely out in the wild, being in the woods or even your own backyard when it just suddenly ...appears.

- Because that's what they do. They simply appear. If you live in an area where they're common, where they typically frequent, you learn what to look out for, what the tell-tale signs of their presence are. You don't hear them, but you do hear what comes in preparation of them: the utter silence of everything around you. One minute the sparrows are chittering noisily, and the next they're dead silent; like they can feel them in the wind.

- It creates a tangible feeling. A pin prickling sensation that tells you that, regardless of whether or not you are bigger or stronger than them, there is something out there in the wild, watching, and waiting and hunting. If you look hard enough, you might just find them, but it won't be before they've found you: their piercing eyes immediately pinning you down in place. There's something about their gaze that's chilling: beautiful, and wild, and calculated; almost to a point that's beyond your understanding.

- That's what it feels like when you meet Jerry Dandridge for the first time. Like you're locked in the gaze of something predatory: something foreign and dangerous. Something that is simply lying in wait, lingering in plain sight until the perfect moment to strike.

- It's why you're baffled when all of your neighbors are seemingly charmed by him: having nothing to say but good things whenever he comes up in conversation. You're not denying the fact that he's an attractive man, anyone with eyes will quickly realize that he's closer to a model than a regular person, but you're somewhat unnerved by the fact that no one else seems to notice how ...odd he is.

- Admittedly, when you first began avoiding him, it was entirely because he was so attractive. You're a reserved person, someone who typically keeps to themselves and the thought of approaching the statuesque figure of your newest neighbor; of attempting to endure an entire conversation without making a fool of yourself, is daunting, to say the least. Forget about letting him into your home and entertaining him one on one....

- But it was because of your avoidance that Jerry began to take an interest in you. Everyone else in your quiet suburb had welcomed him with open arms, making it all too easy to gain access to them and their homes, but nothing he did seemed to convince you to trust him; to convince you to let him inside. He isn't used to having to try so hard; especially not with someone who fits his main demographic, so he finds himself determined to wear you down; while also trying to figure you out in the process.

- You'll find yourself being pulled into conversations with him, being interrupted with knocks on your door early in the night or with offers of assistance whenever you seemingly need it. You rarely indulge him by accepting but it doesn't deter him from trying again another day, embarrassing you with all of the attention and the special treatment.

- Anyone who witnesses his actions will smile at you "knowingly", tease you about how Jerry's seemingly taken a liking to you and how lucky you are because of it. They look at you with envy; eyes blazing when he excuses himself from them in favor of approaching you, but their envy makes them oblivious, makes them blind to your discomfort.

- You don't understand why he's so intent on getting to know you, why it seems to matter so much to him that he has your approval and that you consider him a friend. There's something so ...artificial about it. About the way that he smiles and tries to connect with you, like his actions are a means to an end rather than a genuine desire for connection. And the longer his attempts to draw you in continue, the stranger he begins to behave....

- As smart as Jerry is, when it comes to you, he sort of creates a self-fulfilling prophecy. The more you refuse his bids for connection; the longer you treat him like the wolf in sheep's clothing that he is, the more frustrated and certain that he becomes: certain that you're onto him and that you've somehow realized that there is something inherently wrong with him.

- It's the frustration that makes him sloppy. The impatience that he feels when continuously being denied access to you. The carefully constructed facade begins to slip, and the atmosphere begins to change. He grows desperate and that desperation is palpable.

- He sorts through every trick in his book, hopping erratically from one thing to another, hoping that something sticks and makes you finally take to him like everyone else. He's scrambling to get you to trust him, to want him, to reach out to him, but nothing seems to be working, not like it usually does. Which only makes him want you even more.

- There's a thrill in the hunt, in being found out and sensing the fear that fills his prey once they finally realize what they're dealing with. It's a game of cat and mouse, one that he always ends up winning, and the anticipation of it is both infuriating and intoxicating. He deems you a worthy opponent and that's part of what keeps you alive. He needs a chance to stake you out, to try and figure out exactly how much you know, and how dangerous a little thing like you can be; not that he genuinely thinks that you could ever beat him.

- A part of him is intrigued by the fact that you've figured him out so quickly: that you sniffed him out from the get-go; never once faltering in your distrust. Your neighbors assure him that you're just shy, but your eyes hold the truth: the shifting discomfort that he's used to seeing when he starts picking off residents one by one.

- At first he finds your avoidance alluring. You're his perfect victim: someone who isolates themselves; unused to attention and affection. He works best with people who are crying out for something more, people who are different and yearning for someone to understand. People who are vulnerable and easy to forget about.

- But then you just don't break. You continue to keep your walls up and remain unobtainable, and it's so ...different. Frustrating, of course, but different, and different is exciting.

- Admittedly, you find him exciting as well. The attention is initially quite flattering, and though you try not to read too far into it, it feels nice to be noticed; especially by an attractive man like himself. Though, the more he notices you, the more you start feeling like he's actually kind of a creep. You're gearing more towards sex offender than creature of the night, of course; maybe a serial killer Ted Bundy style, but it's his unusual strangeness that gives you pause.

- Boundaries aren't usually in the vocabulary of men like him, so it surprises you when he refuses to enter your home, seemingly itching for you to let him in; straining against the door frame, yet never crossing the threshold himself. ...And that's just the start of it....

- It takes you a little while to realize it, to figure out why the hairs on the backs of your arms start to stand up at random, skin crawling with sudden anxiety. When you finally do, it's because you've realized that the animals of your home have become palpably tense, perfectly still and quiet for no reason, like there's something there that bothers them. But there's nothing, nothing at all and you coo at them in confusion, trying to get them to relax ...until the doorbell suddenly rings...

- Jerry materializes out of nowhere, gone one moment and right next to you the next; stepping just that tad bit too close whenever no ones around to see it. He never appears in the daylight, and it's not the whole "I work nights" thing either. He doesn't leave his house during the day, sure, but he does leave it in the evening, yet only when there's cloud cover; when the sun is low enough in the sky that you can't see it over the houses or feel the warmth of it's presence. It all makes you start to wonder....

- You feel ridiculous claiming that your neighbor is a vampire; even when it's only spoken to yourself. You feel ridiculous doing your research, of being afraid of the dark like a little kid, thinking about all of the monsters that go bump in the night. You resent the fact that you're scared of the setting sun, that you're scared of braving just a few steps outside your door, that you've developed a habit of going over all your belongings twice just to ensure that you haven't forgotten anything before going in for the night.

- Oh god, your phone.

- Your phone that's sitting in the center console of your car, plugged in and charging since you drained the battery at work; not sitting nicely in your bag as per usual. It has your work schedule, it has your alarm, it has a handful of other important things that you need before you go to bed, but it's already dark out: dark and quiet and completely abandoned. You contemplate if you really need it, then you curse yourself for being so stupid. The answer is yes, yes you really need it, so you scope out the area and hype yourself up, walking on two nervous legs as you quickly make your way over to your car.

- Your phone is right where you left it and you quickly grab it, moving to shut your car door before you happen a glance up and immediately still in place, noticing a figure standing in the distance. You think to run back to your front door as quickly as possible but you just can't do it. You're not sure which outcome will be better for you. When you're alone in a dark forest, unsure of what is out there and how hostile it might be, do you call out for help or do you remain silent?

- You stay perfectly still, eyes locked on the dripping red that's stained across Jerry's mouth, being hurriedly wiped from his lips as he begins walking away from the car that he just came from. It only takes him a moment to sense your presence and he doesn't even do you the justice of pretending to look around, of pretending he doesn't immediately know exactly where you are, his eyes locking on your figure as he begins to come to a stop.

- He watches you intently, reading your expression as you simply stand and stare, frozen in place as he tilts his head and starts to smirk. The expression makes your stomach drop, the satisfaction in it, the vagueness of it's cause. He begins walking towards you, and the idea of running crosses your mind yet again. Yet your legs no longer listen to the pleas, completely immobile, weak and quivering as he stops a few feet away from you, studying you as you stand there stupidly, clutching your oh so important phone in hand.

"You're not usually out this late," He comments and it takes you a moment to respond, to will your tongue to move and your lips to purse and press and open. "I would know."

"I forgot...I forgot my phone." You finally answer, swallowing thickly as Jerry merely continues to smile. He knows that he has you right where he wants you; even you know that: that you're cornered and helpless, and that nothing you do will change that.

- He closes the distance and you tense even further, close to trembling as he leans in and nearly brushes against you, gently closing your car door and leaning against it as he inhales deeply. He studies your face up close, taking in every nervous tick and twitch and freckle. And then he finally speaks....

"You better get to bed." He tells you, and it takes you a while to process what he's saying. It only makes him smile wider, watching you buffer in response to his comment.

- You know he's telling you to start walking to your door, and all you can think is that this is it: that you'll turn your back and he'll pounce. But it's all you have left to do, to buckle up and endure it, to knowingly take the walk towards nothingness and face it head on. You swallow hard as you turn away from him, screwing your eyes together tightly and willing yourself to accept it.

- Every second ticks by agonizingly slowly once you begin the trek to your door. You wait to feel him grab you, to sink his teeth into your flesh at any minute and tear you from this Earth in one fell swoop. But when you get to your door without an issue, you happen a glance behind you and find him gone. You go inside safe and sound, collapsing to the ground and panting wildly as you try to calm yourself, clutching your phone so tightly that you're surprised it doesn't break.

- It is now, without a fraction of a doubt, that you realize that Jerry is a vampire: the tragedy of this being that there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. You and Jerry both know that this is the case, that you're powerless to stop him, and that nothing you can do will give you any sort of leverage against him. If you tell anyone, they'll think you're crazy. If you attempt to arm yourself, you risk the chance of endangering yourself even further with faulty stereotypes. You're all alone in this, and you haven't the slightest idea of what to do, if there even is anything for you to do.

- Waiting. That's what you're forced to resort to. Sitting and waiting for the moment to come when Jerry finally decides to deal with you; to resolve the stand still that the two of you have recently come to....

- He seems to find it all very satisfying: watching you try and anticipate his actions; squirming under his gaze with both fear and the urge to act out. He takes pleasure in provoking you, in reminding you of your shared secret and the obliviousness of the people around you: smiling at you mockingly and trying to spur you into doing or saying something in front of your mutual neighbors that will make you seem like the crazy one. A reminder that no matter what you do, no matter what the truth is, you'll never be able to warn or convince anyone, and you'll never be able to save them from him....

- Unluckily for you, or perhaps luckily, Jerry finds your scent intoxicating: it's a big part of what keeps you alive for so long. He wants to play with you, to make the most of your time together and to indulge in the exquisite aroma of your fear. Though it isn't just your fear that attracts him. Soon, everything about you becomes intoxicating, and it leads to a small obsession: one that causes him to grow bolder and more bothersome than ever....

- It's this emboldened behavior that causes you to confront him and subsequently jumpstart your future relationship.

- You've tried keeping your family away from you for as long as possible, not wanting to risk their safety by having them come over to your home and potentially run into your vampiric neighbor. But at some point, your excuses stop working and you find yourself being ambushed with a visit, one you try your hardest to end before the sun begins to set. Unfortunately for you, it doesn't end up happening, and as you gather the last of your mothers things, you hear her begin to converse with someone outside.

- You rush out into your front lawn and feel your anger surge as you catch your mother laughing and talking to the man that you so desperately wanted her to avoid. You usher her to her car as quickly as possible, blood boiling as they continue to call out pleasantries to one another. She teases you about your attractive neighbor as she sits behind the wheel, urging you to shoot your shot before she sends him one last wave and a wink, driving out of your neighborhood as you stand there and seethe.

"What was that?" You growl at him, quickly closing in on the man as he simply smiles at you. You're furious, furious that he spoke to her, that he purposefully left his home to make sure that the two of them met.

"I think that was your mothers attempt at getting us together. I have to admit, I have thought about it myself-" He replies teasingly before you interrupt him.

"What do you want from me?" You growl, pushing at his chest and forcing him backwards. You're so fed up, so caught up in the high wired emotions that have built and built for the past few weeks that you don't even care about the consequences anymore. If you were more relaxed, you probably would have been surprised by how easily he went along with you, how he let you act as you as though you even held a candle to his strength.

"Easy." He breathes at you, chuckling with amusement as he takes in your anger, his teeth glinting in the low light of the evening.

"What do you want from me?" You seethe, hands gripping tightly to his shirt sleeves as you hold him against your garden gate.

"What do you think I want?" He smiles, hands coming up to tease at your flesh, returning your touch as he catches your arms and steadies both of your positions. His eyes twinkle, as if he's enjoying this entire thing.

"I don't care about what your plans for me are. I don't care if you want to sit around like a creep and torment me: ring my doorbell at all hours of the night and stand in my garden like Michael Myers. I mean it, I don't care. Just stay the hell away from my family. They have nothing to do with this." You hiss, disregarding the way he raises his eyebrows at your choices of words and the way that he licks his lips, entertained by your ferocious display.

- You pull away from him, arms jerking angrily from his grasp before you're immediately pulled right back in. It's only then that the severity of your actions begin to dawn on you: the swiftness of his grasp shocking you; the strength of it making it increasingly obvious that he let you move him and not that you managed it on your own.

"You know. I really think we got off on the wrong foot," He says with a smile, almost joking in his delivery of the line. He furrows his brows when he begins speaking again, nodding at you as if to implore you to agree. "I think this has gone on long enough, don't you think?"

- The words send a chill down your spine, and you watch as he breathes in deeply, inhaling the air around you before he shivers, pulling you closer as you struggle against him, trying to squirm away. You tense as he leans in, sniffing along the column of your throat as you remain momentarily paralyzed. He ends it with a flourish, faltering inches from your lips, close enough that you feel as though he's about to kiss you, his breath hitting your face.

- You catch his blackened eyes, catch a glimpse of his growing teeth, and your brain seems to finally catch up with you, realizing what's about to happen just in time for you to do something about it. He opens his mouth in preparation just as you fish the crucifix out of your pocket and shove it against his cheek. He quickly whips his head away, momentarily releasing you as he hisses, the holy metal searing into his skin and giving you enough of a distraction to get away.

- He wants to go after you immediately, but he's quickly drawn to the sound of a neighbor who's leaving their house: one who's just seen what's happened and is standing paralyzed in shock at the sight of "charming" Jerry who's just seemingly assaulted you. He turns to the man as he clutches his cheek, smiling at him as he tries to play it cool.

"Lovers quarrel." He jokes, but he can immediately see that the man doesn't believe him. He quickly heads over to your door, watching as they hurriedly go inside their own home and undoubtedly begin to tell their wife what they've seen. He knows that he can't get away with disposing of Mr. Brenner and his family, that the town will quickly notice and that it will compromise his cover, so the only choice he has left is to use you.

"Y/n, we need to talk," He knocks on your door, speaking quietly through the wood; knowing that you're able to hear him even though you don't respond. "You're a smart girl, y/n, and I'm not just saying that. It isn't easy to get away from me so consider me impressed."

"Since you're a smart girl, I want to make a deal with you. You go over to the Brenner's house, you tell them that we had a little argument and that everything is fine, that it was a misunderstanding between boyfriend and girlfriend, ...and you'll save yours and that entire family's lives. All you have to do is play along. And I think that's better than the alternative, don't you?" Well you don't have much of a choice, now do you?

- You slowly open the door, peering at him warily as you do your best to pull yourself together. He smiles at you, praising you for making the better decision as you step outside and begin walking across the street. You knock on the Brenner's door, forcing a smile onto your face as the older man answers. Once he see's that its you, he asks if you're alright, visibly becoming relieved when you assure him that you are.

- You do your best to act a bit embarrassed as you explain the story that you've been told to give to him: telling him that you and Jerry had a bit of a fight, that you're actually kind of seeing each other, and that things just got a little heated. You apologize for scaring him and the fact that he had to see all of that, sharing a laugh as he insists that it's fine and that he was just worried you were in danger. You both say goodnight and you make your way back to Jerry who's standing on your porch.

"Aren't you gonna invite me in?" He asks, glancing over to Mr. Brenner who's watching you through his window, seemingly still a bit suspicious. You hesitate, not thinking that allowing him access to your safe space would ever be a part of the deal.

"Of course." You insist phonily, smiling at him as though your stomach isn't completely in knots, opening your door and letting him enter your home for the first time since meeting him....

- Now that you're "officially" a couple, you're forced to act along whenever you're in front of your neighbors. You're forced to pretend as though nothing is wrong as Jerry pulls you into him, kissing and cuddling you in order to make this act of yours convincing. You don't think it's as much of a burden to him as it is to you. Frankly, you think he actually enjoys it.

- A lot of the time, he acts as though this arrangement of yours is more than that: that you're genuinely a couple or; at the very least, that he isn't forcing your hand. You find yourself beginning to struggle when trying to differentiate between all of your feelings for Jerry: where your obligation to him ends and your genuine attraction to him begins.

- Jerry is naturally magnetic. His presence is erosive, stripping you down to your weakest state and jumbling your nerves. There's a fine line between hunger and lust, and Jerry's personality embodies this line; creating this palpable desire that burns you up on the inside. You hate that he has an effect on you, but you cannot deny that it is there, and that very fact keeps you up at night.

- One evening, you get a knock on your door and when you open it, you're met with the Brenner's eldest son. He's hushed when he tells you that he knows what's going on with Jerry, that he knows you're not a couple, and that the two of you can work together to stop him. You want so badly to divulge everything, to grasp onto your only current ally and finally admit the truth that you've had to keep secret for so long. But you can't.

- You look at him, look at his baby fat and his nervous eyes, at the promise of a future that's written all over his face. You look at him and you lie. You tell him that you know what things may look like but that it's not really the case. That you believed it for a minute there too, but that Jerry isn't anything and that you're in a happy relationship with him.

- He tries to insist that he knows the truth, to tell you that you don't have to be afraid, but you simply shake your head; giving him a reassuring smile as you tell him to believe you: hoping that you're either convincing him or that your behavior is enough to make him comprehend the danger that's at hand. You see the look in his eyes before you feel Jerry behind you.

"Talking about me?" He asks, voice lighthearted and teasing but you're smart enough to sense the edge.

"Just clearing things up." You tell him, smiling back at him and towards the boy standing on your front step.

"Good, good. ...Have a goodnight Daniel." He tells him before closing the door around you, caging you with his body.

"You've really gotten good at all of this, y/n. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you liked having me around." He tells you, cupping the back of your neck as you turn towards him, smiling down at you reassuringly, almost affectionately. "Why don't we go watch something, hmm?"

- You're beginning to come to terms with the fact that this is your fate. That in the process of saving your life, you've subsequently surrendered ownership of it, and that this ownership was handed over to him. That there is no getting rid of Jerry Dandridge and that you'll be forced to stay by his side until he decides otherwise.

- The thing is, you're also beginning to find yourself concerningly okay with that....

#Jerry Dandridge imagine #Jerry Dandridge imagines #Jerry Dandridge headcanons #Jerry Dandridge headcanon #fright night 2011 imagine #fright night 2011 imagines #fright night 2011 headcanons #fright night 2011 headcanon #fright night imagine #fright night imagines

[hikarimiyanaga]

Teach Me (Part 1)

FINALLY STARTING MY NICO ROBIN FIC.

I haven't reached an ending that I feel satisfied with Forget Me so that will be on hold for now.

Might randomly update it though.

Warning : Omegaverse. Alpha!Reader x Omega!Nico Robin.

Summary :

You aren't smart.

And to be fair with you, you aren't that dumb either (Not as much as you thought anyway).

But this ridiculous crush on Nico Robin?

The hottest, smartest, kindest and straighest woman to ever live?

Probably one of your dumbest ideas.

You groan as you look over your history and latin exam papers.

How did it get so bad?

Why are you on the verge of failing right now?

"Where the fuck did I go wrong??" You groan again to no one in particular when your three sworn brothers came one by one.

You look at them and sigh.

Monkey D. Luffy. New member of the boxing team. His agile footwork and determination are a force to be reckon with. His dream is to surpass and defeat Kaido.

Portgas D. Ace. Quarterback of the football team. Ace is also a well-known playboy with his charms and good looks.

Sabo. The new member of the mma club. He actually wanted to get into politics but decided to change his mind and get into sports particularly, martial arts.

And there was you. All four you were known campus-wide as 4I.

It was an old nickname back from middle school that still stuck to this day because of Nami.

Once she called all of you that and you all turned to her, it was over.

"Where's Nami and Chopper?" You were desperate now, you can't fail subjects, it felt like you were losing the imaginary battle for Robin's heart.

Right. Nico Robin. One of the smartest students ever at GLU. She has so many awards to her name and she was still a student. You just know that her late mother would be so proud of her.

"Why are you looking for them?" Luffy asks as he settles in the seat beside you. Luffy's crew actually consists of Robin, Zoro, Chopper, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Franky, Brook and even a senior, Jimbei.

How they all got together was not disclosed to you. And you are not that curious. Your brothers have their own lives. They have their own friends.

"I need help." You groan as you show them your exam papers that barely passed. The three boys looked at it as you look away.

You stare at her from afar, knowing that she was reading yet another difficult book that would be too much for you.

"How can I ask her? Damn it, would she even accept it-" You mumble to yourself.

"Who do you need to ask?" Luffy asks and you glare at him.

"How did the three of you do on your exams?" The three sworn brothers of yours all pretended to be busy with their bags. "Answer me!" You growl at them and they all stop.

"Bad." "I failed two subjects." "I passed everything, hey!" You deadpan at Sabo.

"Really? Did you ace any subject?" He looks away at that and you groan. "I barely passed two subjects but I did good on everything else."

"How many subjects did you take this semester again?" You glare at Ace who just grins at you.

"I took seven! History and Latin are killing me right now." You groan as you look at your phone. "I need someone smart to teach me."

"Why not ask Robin then?" You perk up at that then you look at Luffy.

"What. Do you know her??" You were pretty sure that there are question marks floating around you by now.

"Yeah?" Luffy gulps down the food in his mouth. "She's friends with Nami and Chopper. They're both pretty smart too."

"Okay, I'm going to ask Chopper and Nami to intro-"

"HEY, ROBIN!" Almost everyone in the cafeteria looks at Luffy and you blush at the attention. Even Robin, the girl you've been wanting to ask out on a date raises an eyebrow at your direction.

"Luffy-" Before you could scold him, Luffy is dragging you already to Robin's table. "WHA- LUFFY-"

"Robin!" Luffy grins at Robin and you can't help the blush on your face as you looked everywhere but her. "Would you mind teaching my little sis, Y/N?"

"What little sis- We're the same age, you asswipe!" You hold Luffy's collar and he just grins at you.

"You're still little sis. You joined us last, after all."

"That's not how it works-"

"Sure." You stop at that then look at Robin. "I don't mind." You blush again as you release Luffy.

You'll forgive him this time.

-

You shouldn't have asked her.

Fuck. You're nervous and you haven't even seen her yet.

"Stop panicking, Y/N." You try to calm yourself down to no avail.

Both you and Robin agreed earlier to meet up in the library after 4 pm. It was right after your last class.

"Oh. You really did ask for her help." You turn around and see Nami and Chopper together with Franky.

"Hey, Nami. Hey, Chopper. Wait-"

"She's studying with us, idiot. Now, come on." Nami drags you inside the library and you clench your fist.

Of course, you two wouldn't be alone. Why did you think that was the case?

"You guys finally came." Robin greets and you spot Sanji beside her.

What the hell? Did they all just decide to meet up here or something?

"And that's my cue to leave. I still need to get to my next class. See you, Robin-chwan! Nami-chwan!" The lovesick cook bids his goodbye and you can't help the pit in your stomach.

The Strawhat Crew was a tight circle of friends. One that you didn't even try to get into even if Luffy insisted sometimes. You just didn't fit in with them.

"Did you call everyone else? Is Luffy going to be here too??" Nami asks as she places down her bag in the seat across from Robin.

"Sanji just stopped by when he saw me. It'd be a miracle if any of us can get Luffy in here." You wanted to agree but you opted to stay silent as you also place down your bag beside Chopper.

"Why are you over there?" Nami asks and you freeze at that. "Didn't you ask Robin for help? Sit beside her, for god's sake." You wanted to glare at Nami, to make her stop but you knew you couldn't. The woman scared you even if Luffy insisted that she was just intimidating. You nod in agreement and place down your bag beside Robin who hums as you get out your notebook and books.

-

You hate Latin. Why did you ever think it was a good idea to take this subject?

You groan in frustration as you scratch your head. Robin has been nothing but patient to you but you knew that she was also getting irritated by now.

"Let's take a break, shall we?" Robin says and you look at the clock.

"Shit. It's ten!?" You quickly shove your things inside your bag. "I'm so sorry but I have to go! I have work! Thanks for the help!" You run away from the group and Nami hums.

"Right. She has that dangerous part-time job of hers. I'm surprised that Ace and Sabo hasn't made her quit it yet."

"What job?" Robin asks out of curiosity and Nami hums.

"She's a security at a club. Undercover, actually since it's pretty fancy." Robin hums.

"Wait, what club?" Frank asks and Nami thinks about it for a second.

"Um. I think it was Amazon Lily."

"Wait, isn't that where Boa works??"

"Yep." Nami puts her focus back on her book as Robin thinks about you.

-

You change into your uniform and sigh.

You were late and got scolded by Boa again. Even though the both of you were the same age, Boa is already the manager of Amazon Lily.

"Sorry about being late, Sonia." You apologize to the bartender of the night who just smiles at you.

"You're still good, there's just a few customers right now." She places a non-alcoholic drink in front of you and you thank her.

You look around Amazon Lily and observe everyone.

Your job was simple enough. Prevent any disasters from befalling the club for the night.

Even if you were not as interested as your brothers into sports or martial arts, you could still hold on your own when it comes to fighting. After all, the four of you all had the same teacher. You shudder as you think about Grandpa Garp's teaching methods.

'Never again.' You think to yourself as you take a sip of your drink.

"You new here?" A woman asks as she takes a seat beside you and you smirk at her.

"No, ma'am, not new." You show her your id and badge then she giggles.

"You look young to be a security staff." And there it is. When people see your badge, they always doubt you.

"I am young, ma'am but trust me, I am also part of the staff." As if on cue, you hear a ruckus on a table and sigh as you put down your drink. You leave the woman alone and go to the table.

"Is there something wrong, sir?" You ask the man who was clearly drunk and yet still trying to pick up girls. Jesus. You hate men like this.

"What- I was just trying to talk to them!" The man defends and the alcohol breath hits you in full force. You sigh in exasperation and look at Boa who gestures to let the man out.

"Sir, I'm afraid that you're causing a ruckus now. Please leave the premise immediately or I wi-" He swings his fist at you with no warning and you quickly dodge it. "I warned you, sir." You quickly deliver a chop to his neck and he loses consciousness before he even hits the floor. "So sorry for that, madams. A round of drinks shall be provided on the house for your trouble." The stunned women just nods as you smile at them. You signal to one of the waitresses and she nods at you. You hoist the man from the floor and carry him outside.

"A fight?" Mari asks and you shake your head at her.

"A drunk." Mari hums as you place him on the curb and take his phone from his pocket. You text whoever is on there to pick him up and take his wallet. You take a picture of his id and hum as you send it to Boa. She only gives you a thumbs up and you pocket your phone. You secure his wallet and phone in his pants and go back inside. Mari should be able to keep an eye on him until he was picked up by whoever you texted.

Boa simply gives you a thumbs up and you just stare at her until she looks away from you.

"She was just complimenting you, you know?" Ran says to you and you shrug at her as you take your seat.

"I didn't do much."

"You literally just made sure our customers were safe, what do yo-" You shush Ran away and she hits you lightly before going back to her work.

Compliments were never your forte. Whether you were the one receiving or giving it.

You take out your phone for a second and hum as you see a text from Nami.

Nami : Are you still at work?

You raise an eyebrow at her question and glance around to see if Boa is watching. She wasn't so you quickly reply to Nami.

You : Why are you asking?

Nami : Just answer.

You groan at her. Nami was a frenemy of yours. She was intimidating as fuck and has always scared you. But she can be helpful when she can.

You : I am. WHY?

Nami : Photo attached.

You raise an eyebrow and quickly look away from your phone as you were surely blushing by now. Nami just sent you a photo of the Strawhat crew in somewhat fancy clothes. You were blushing because of Robin's clothes. She was wearing a revealing dress that left little to the imagination.

You : PLEASE DO NOT COME. NAMI, I'M BEGGING.

Nami : Too late. Even Luffy agreed already.

You : Can you at least make Robin change???

Nami : What? Why?

You : Because she's too-

Your reply gets cut off as Boa pinches your cheek.

"Y/N! What did I tell you about texting while working?"

"That I shouldn't do it?"

"AND!? What are you doing!?" You sigh.

"Texting. In my defense, something more distracting are coming."

"Robin?"

"What- how-" Boa rolls her eyes at you.

"I'm your friend, dolt. I've seen how you look at her." Boa glances at your phone and groan. "Shit. She really needs to change. You're going to drool." You blush at her.

"What-"

"I'm letting Mari know. Catch the jacket that I'm going to give you." You nod and you glance at the photo again.

'Fuck.' You feel your pheromones trying to release themselves but you don't let them. That was one of the things that Garp taught right. How to control your goddamn pheromones so Omegas won't be uncomfortable around you.

"Catch!" That was the only warning you get from Boa but you still manage to catch the measly thrown jacket. You hum as you wear it and hope to god that it will be enough.

-

After half an hour, you were observing everyone when almost everyone's eyes went to the door. You can't help but freeze as the Strawhat crew strides inside the club.

"Y/N!" Luffy runs to you and excitedly tells you about his practice today. You say sorry to him in your head already as you can't keep your eyes off Robin. That picture from Nami had nothing on the real deal.

"Y/N?" Luffy asks, oblivious as to why you're not functioning anymore, and Boa pinches your side to get you out of your daze.

"The jacket, dolt." She says and you quickly take off the jacket that your wearing and go up to Robin.

"Here." You say and put the jacket on her. "It can get cold in here." You defend the action and clear your throat. "You guys must want a table. There should be an empty one." You play the role of a proper host and lead them to their table.

"I thought you were security here?" Nami asks with an eyebrow raised at you and you nod.

"I am." You show your badge to them and Nami hums.

"Why are you not in uniform then?" You smile.

"Because it's easier to observe inside the club than outside." You hear a cry and narrow your eyes at some people in the corner. You quickly leave the Strawhat Crew's table and get in time as a glass was almost emptied on Daisy. You groan as your shirt get soaked and your abs get exposed.

"This shirt cost me 100 beris, damn it." You sigh and look at the woman before you, still holding the emptied glass then at Daisy who was clinging onto your back now. "Ma'am, is there any justifiable reason on why you are trying to harass one of our staff?"

"Harass? That woman brought the wrong order! It's only reasonable to-" The woman stops as you glare at her.

"Please leave this establishment right now. Amazon Lily is not responsible for your attitude nor are we going to continue serving your pompous ass. If she got the order wrong then just tell her! You don't have to dump a whole drink on her!" You can't help the growl that escapes you. The Amazon Lily staff were the kindest people you've ever met. They even tolerated you as their friend.

"What- Is that how you talk to a customer!?" The woman gets soaked and you look at Boa who just simply gives you the bucket and takes a picture of the woman.

"You are banned now. I suggest that you don't ever come back here again. My people are not your servants. They are only doing their jobs and they are to be respected. Go away." The woman scoffs then leaves as you console Daisy who still hasn't stopped shaking. "Take her to the back and get changed. I'll get Ran." You nod as you lead Daisy to the back room.

After you make sure that Daisy is going to be okay, you change your shirt and go back to the bar.

"Nice work." Sonia greets as she places a drink in front of you. You down the drink wordlessly and clench your fist to calm yourself down.

"You okay?" You hear a familiar voice ask and you look up to see Robin still in your jacket. You can't even appreciate that she looks good in the jacket as you nod.

"I'll be fine in a minute." You glance at Luffy who was enjoying eating at their table and hum. At least he was not being protective.

"It must be hard to control yourself. I know Luffy doesn't." You smile at that.

"One of the reasons why he got into boxing, really." Robin smiles at you. "Sorry you had to see all that."

"No worries. I didn't know Hancock is your friend."

"She's not. She's my boss."

"Boss? She studies at GLU."

"And she manages this place."

"That is actually amazing."

"It is. The owner is her adoptive grandmother. Not that it matters. Hancock is an amazing manager."

"Sounds like you admire her." You hum.

"I do. She's cool."

"Thanks for the jacket, by the way. I wasn't so sure with the dress but-"

"The dress looks amazing on you but uh- well- some people might hit on you-"

"They should. I need a date, to be honest."

"Oh? Really?"

"Yeah. I need to make Franky jealous."

"Oh. Oh. Y-you have a crush on him?" You try not to stutter. You already knew that you had a stupid crush anyway.

"Kind of? Bon Clay says I need to date more so here I am."

"What do you-" Before you finish, there was a crash and you turn around to see a drunk guy on the dance floor. "Fucking- sorry, I need to take care of that." Robin nods at you as you walk towards the drunk. She watches as you help the drunk guy's friends drag him outside.

"You're staring." Sonia says to Robin who hums.

"I didn't know she was that strong."

"Aren't you friends with Luffy?"

"Yes. Not her." Robin points out and Sonia nods.

"Y/N is- she's an introvert." Robin nods in agreement. "One of the reasons why she doesn't have a crew." Robin turns to Sonia.

"Not even Kuja?" Sonia shakes her head. "I thought she was."

"She's the only non-Kuja member that's allowed to work here."

"Why?"

"She saved Elder Nyon. Like three times, honestly, and the owner offered her this job." Robin hums as she takes a sip of her drink.

"She's the same as Luffy then? Always saving the weak?" You stop at her question and sigh. Ah. So that's why she approached you. Because you're the sister of Luffy. That's probably why she accepted teaching you too.

'I shouldn't bother her anymore.' You thought to yourself as you approach Hancock and Angel. Angel raises an eyebrow at you.

"Your crush is at the bar?" Angel says and you shrug.

"She's straight."

"And I thought Hancock was too but she went out with me."

"Don't assume people's sexualities, Y/N." Hancock agrees with her girlfriend and you smile sadly at them.

"She just said that she has a crush on Franky. Oh. And she only agreed to teach me because of Luffy."

"Shit. She really said so?" You nod and Angel pats your back.

"You'll find someone else. Another Omega who'll take one look at you and claim you." You raise an eyebrow at Hancock then at Angel.

"Like you did with Angel?" Hancock blushes then slaps your arm. "Ow. That hurts, Boa."

"Shut up." You laugh at her blushing face and Robin looks at you.

Oh. She has never seen you smile before.

Robin stares at you before her attention was taken by Nami waving her hand in front of her face.

"You okay?" Robin nods at her. "We're going. Zoro is drunk and Luffy has eaten his fill. These two should be grateful that they have their sports. Seriously."

"Oh. Okay."

"Have you seen Y/N? I have to give her something."

"She's right there." Robin points out where you last were but you were nowhere to be found. "Uh."

"Luffy giving you trouble, Nami? I can carry him?"

"Zoro might need it more."

"Ugh. Zoro stinks."

"He's a customer?"

"So? He still stinks of alcohol."

"Damn. You ruthless. Here." Nami holds out a pamphlet and you raise an eyebrow at her as you take it.

"Tashigi wanted to invite you to the kendo club but she didn't see you earlier so she gave me that when she knew that I was going here."

"Oh. Huh. I never used a sword in my life though?"

"She can teach you?"

"No, Thank you. Sports are not for me. I'd rather read."

"How are you failing two subjects?"

"History and I never agreed with each other. Just ask Luffy. Latin is just- hard."

"Why did you take it then?"

"Because learning a new language is awesome... In theory. It's so hard." You whine and Nami laughs at you. You both stop when Zoro comes over the bar and orders more sake from Sonia. You and Nami look at each other and she points at him.

"No. Not yet, one-"

"Do your job." You groan at her then approach Zoro.

"Zoro, bro. You're cut off. Let's get you home."

"Bro. I will literally carry you. Stop drinking." Zoro takes one look at your serious face and groans.

"Fine. I'll stop. You should probably carry him, though." He points to Luffy who was so full that he's sleeping on the table.

"I will. Gather everyone up at front. I'll be there in a second." Nami gives you a thumbs then she, Robin and Zoro walk outside the bar. You see the other Strawhats follow suit and hum as you carry Luffy through your shoulder.

"He's not dead, is he?" Hancock asks and you smile at her.

"Certainly feels like it." You grunt as Luffy mumbles something in his sleep then continue walking outside.

"I didn't know Luffy drunk this hard???" Mari asks you as you carry him outside.

"He didn't drink." You say as a matter of fact.

"What???" Mari asks again, just as confused.

"He ate." You grin at her then brings him to his crew.

"Makes sense now." Mari mumbles to herself.

"Heya, Strawhats." You say and everyone turns to you. All of them stifling a laugh as they see you carrying Luffy like a sack. "So, who's-"

"Chopper. He didn't drink anything at all." You hum.

"He's the designated driver?"

"He and Franky somehow always lose rock, paper, scissors." You snicker just as the van stops in front of you.

"Heya, Y/N!" Chopper greets you and you grin at him.

"Heya, Chopper! Wait, where do I place-"

"On the back, Zoro will sit with him." Nami says and you nod as you carry Luffy to the back of the van.

"Thanks, Y/N." Zoro bumps his fist lightly on your shoulder and you nod at him.

"Be careful driving, Chopper!" You wave them goodbye after making sure that they're all accounted for. You sigh in relief as they drive away and just as about you were about to enter the club, you groan. "The jacket. Damn it! That was- wait, whose jacket was that??"

Meanwhile...

Robin plops down on her and sighs in relief as she takes off her high heels.

Clubbing was not her forte. At all. She shrugs off the jacket that you gave her then she smiles. Your scent was still clearly on it. She sniffs the collar of the jacket and smiles.

'It smells like sandalwood.' She noted in her head. 'Cooling and relaxing.' She places the jacket on the side of her bed then she gets ready to sleep.

As Robin lays down on her bed, she pulls the jacket closer and your scent envelops her. She sleeps that night, body completely relaxed and comfortable.

-

"Wait, whose jacket was that, Hancock??? Did you give somebod-"

"It was yours, idiot. I knew you forgot about it." You tilt your head at her.

"Mine???? Why do you have my-"

"Because you gave it to Ran when some customers tried to harass her after her shift. You beat them up a week ago, remember?"

"Oh. Oh! That time!" Hancock groans at you.

"You idiot really is Luffy's sister." She mumbles as she gets back into her office.

-

A/N:

ROBIN FIC!!

God, it took me months just to get this out, sorry about that.

Also, might be irregular posting.

Thanks for reading!

#one piece x reader #one piece #nico robin x you #nico robin x y/n #nico robin x reader #nico robin imagine #nico robin #omegaverse fanfic #omegaverse fic #omegaverse

[thebunnednun]

Whispers of the Heart Dracule Mihawk x Fm! Reader (Part 4)

I do not own the artwork its by: @xuchuan25 Tell them they're amazing y'all!

Chapter 4 in the building y'all!!!! I just needed to see my Buggy.

Part 1 can be found: Here

Part 2 is right: Here

Part 3: Right over yonder

Don't be afraid to send me any requests my loves and if you are waiting for the next installment I have another Mihawk story:

*Shadows of the Blade (Dracule Mihawk x Assassin reader)

If you like sexy swordplay and themes of overcoming trauma then this is the story for you!. If you wanna skip to the good stuff try chapter 3.

Backstory:

You've been Dracule Mihawk's personal maid and housekeeper for what feels like an eternity. Let's cut to the chase – you're a badass, sweetheart. Sexy, cool, and confident, with a reputation that precedes you. Been friends with the stoic man for eons by now.

Everyone knows you or knows of you, and it's not just because you keep Mihawk's castle running like a well-oiled machine.

So what happens when you develop feelings for your old friend and boss?

What does he do when he comes home to find you in his room without your panties?

Also, muneca-chan= baby doll

ON WITH THE SHOW!!~

________________Chapter 4: A Clown's Counsel___________________

"Everything is going to be fine," you murmur softly, your voice echoing faintly into the open air. 

Your heart pounds with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as you stand alone in the vast, empty waters of the ocean. With a determined expression, you whisper reassuring words to yourself, trying to quell the rising tide of anxiety.

"You've locked down the castle securely. You just need to make this quick trip and return before Mihawk, Perona, and Zoro even realize you're gone." Taking a deep breath, you glance around the dimly lit deck one last time before turning your attention to your bag.

With meticulous care, you rummage through its contents, double-checking that you have everything you need for your journey. Each item holds a significance, a memory of past adventures and encounters that fuels your determination.

'I am a pirate queen of all the oceans. I was raised on an island in the Grand line and chose to live a life of peace. I can fucking sail a boat!'

After hanging up with Shanks last night, you decided to get up and moving if you were going to make your trip in time. Mihawk rarely ever sent word of his return home, unless he wanted a specific dinner and wine waiting for him.

You knew you'd have anywhere from a few days to two months before you saw him again. With a long sigh, you held your face in your hands for a moment of calm. 

The weather had turned for the worst overnight leaving you to sail the nearby waters in the middle of a rain storm. But, you honestly didn't mind one bit. It reminded you of your home island and like the homesick tall-child you were, you stood there on your little boat without a jacket or umbrella.

Call you crazy, but you wished for it to rain harder so all the confusing emotions inside you could be washed away somehow. Looking behind you, your eyes caught the slight glimmer of two familiar objects looking out of the bag behind you.

"Mhm," walking over, you reached inside, allowing your fingers to grasp the handle of two familiar old friends. The golden ridges caught the light from your dimming lantern.

Two identical machetes gleamed back at you, a parting gift from your mother. Your native tongue etched into the blade, they possessed a soft hum, almost whispering out to you. The temptation to harness your belt on and feel them resting on your hips again was almost irresistible. But instead, you drew your bag closed over them and set it down once more.

Constantly fighting for your life and the life of your crew mates was not something you missed about the old life. Yes, battles of honor were fun and sometimes even lead to creating new friends, however, there were too many attempts of pure murder. 

As a caption, you very much followed Gold Rodgers example of what a pirate should be. However, you also believed in not looking for fights. Now, you weren't out of practice by any means, Mihawk would never allow that.

But you could feel yourself adjust instantly to this old way of living and it kinda bothered you. However, resisting the temptation let you know that you were still you. 

You really have come so far in life. <3

Satisfied that you are well-prepared, you make your way to the shores of a nearby island, your footsteps echoing softly in the silence of the night. As you reach the edge of the water, you pause, your gaze scanning the horizon with a sense of anticipation.

Knowing that discretion is key, you reach into your bag once more, retrieving a carefully crafted cloak. The rumors of your death would fool the general public, but not other pirates or worse- fame hungry pirate captions.

You disappeared under the deck for a moment to find an old mirror. Then with practiced precision, you transform your appearance, concealing your identity behind a clever facade. As you adjust the final details of your disguise, you feel a surge of confidence wash over you. A small smile reaches your lips before a giggle slips out.

'Shanks would love this.'

With your transformation complete, you set off along the shoreline, your eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of activity. This island was Buggy's last known location, and you are determined to find him. Every step brings you closer to your goal, your senses heightened with anticipation.

'Now or never.'

As you navigate the sandy shores, the salty breeze caresses your cheeks, invigorating your spirit with a sense of adventure. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a soft glow upon the landscape, guiding your way through the darkness.

With each passing moment, your anticipation grows, fueled by the promise of reunion and the thrill of the unknown. Your senses are sharp, attuned to the subtlest of sounds and movements, as you scan the surroundings for any sign of life.

And then, in the distance, you catch a glimpse of movement—a flicker of movement amidst the shadows.

A big top. 

Without a second thought, you take off running in that direction. Unworried about the rain, you can barely hear the sound of your feet hitting the muddy ground over your pounding heart. Your breath quickens with excitement as you draw closer, your footsteps quickening with each stride.

"No you fucking shit head, it's WRONG!"

"Found you!"

Finally reaching the tent, you poked inside to see where that lovable asshole was. Ducking under the bleachers, you watched as a tall familiar figure threw a barrage of insults at some huddled performers. Several freaks were passing and going throughout the chaos to practice their acts and hone their talents. 

Amidst a flurry of activity, stood Buggy, his presence commanding attention amidst the chaos. You pause for a moment, watching him rehearse with his performers, a fond smile playing at the corners of your lips.

"If you can't get the lion to dance by this Friday, I am going to eat him. I don't give a FUCK how chewy he is!"

There stood a timid man with an animal that cowered before the infamous caption of the East Blue.

Ever the drama queen, Buggy's appearance was as flamboyant and eccentric as ever. He stood tall and proud, his colorful attire adorned with sequins and feathers that shimmered in the light. His hair, a riotous explosion of bright blue curls, framed his face in wild abandon, adding to his larger-than-life persona. His eyes, usually twinkling with mischief and charm, were now almost bloodshot and darted around the room, taking in every detail with a keen sense of curiosity. 

You can't help but chuckle at Buggy's theatrics, a familiar warmth spreading through your chest at the sight of him. Despite his bombastic demeanor, you know there's a soft side to him that few ever see.

As the chaos around him continues, you take a moment to compose yourself before stepping out from your hiding spot. With a mischievous grin, you call out to him in a teasing tone:

"Now that's not nice and you know it." 

Buggy's head snaps up at the sound of your voice, "We're closed right now!"

"Oh, this dumbass." You roll your eyes under the hood before pulling it from your head. His eyes widening in surprise before a wide grin splits his face. Without a moment's hesitation, he strides forward, his arms open wide in welcome.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite troublemaker," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. With a dramatic flourish, he strides over to you, sweeping you into a tight hug that almost knocks the breath out of you.

Finding yourself unable to keep your composer, you giggle into the chest of the shockingly 6'5 man and snuggle into his chest to quil the ache in your heart, returning his embrace with just as much intensity.

"How've you been, sis?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern as he pulls back to look at you, his hands resting on the apples of your cheeks.

You relish in the familiar comfort of his presence. "Oh, you know, same old same old," you reply, trying to play it cool despite the category 8 hurricane of emotions swirling within you. "Just thought I'd drop by and say hello."

Buggy quirks an eyebrow at your casual tone, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh really? Or is there something else on your mind?" he teases, giving your left cheek a playful pinch with his fingers.

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a laugh at his antics. "Maybe a little bit of both," you admit, your voice softening as you meet his gaze.

"I've missed you, Buggy. It's been too long."

Buggy's expression softens, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of your words. "I've missed you too, [Name]," he replies, his voice gentle as he squeezes your shoulders affectionately. "But something tells me there's more to this visit than just catching up."

You let out a sigh, knowing you can't hide anything from Buggy. "You know me too well," you admit, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

As Buggy's eyebrows furrow in concern, his gaze searching yours for any hint of distress, you take a deep breath, gathering the courage to confide in him. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You glance briefly at his performers, then lock eyes with Buggy again, a sense of urgency gripping your heart. "Got a place where we can chat in private?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper.

Buggy's expression flickers to something fierce, a glint of determination in his sea-green eyes as he analyzes you. Without a word, he stands tall, his shoulders squared, commanding the attention of his crew.

"Everyone is to keep performing," he announces firmly, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. "And when I come back, that lion better know how to tap dance or I'm making good on my promise!" His crew responds with a chorus of "Eye Sir's!" before Buggy ushers you away, leading you to a different part of the tent.

With swift efficiency, he pushes you inside a dressing room adorned with a star, the blue clown's symbol adorning the door. As you step inside, the door closes behind you with a soft click, enveloping you in a cocoon of privacy.

Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you brace yourself for the conversation ahead, knowing that Buggy's keen intuition will leave no stone unturned. As you await his prompting, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his unwavering support, even in the face of your deepest secrets.

The dressing room is a small, cozy space adorned with whimsical decorations that reflect the flamboyant nature of its occupants. The walls are painted a soothing shade of sky blue, with colorful streamers cascading from the ceiling, adding a playful touch to the atmosphere.

In one corner of the room, a vanity table sits adorned with an assortment of makeup and accessories, its surface gleaming under the soft glow of a dim lamp. A large mirror framed in ornate gold stands at the center, reflecting the room's eclectic charm.

Against the opposite wall, a row of hooks holds an array of costumes, each garment more vibrant and extravagant than the last. Sequins sparkle in the light, and feathers flutter gently as if caught in an unseen breeze.

In the center of the room, a plush red armchair beckons invitingly, its cushions adorned with polka dots in varying shades of blue. A small side table sits nearby, stacked with magazines and trinkets, offering a glimpse into the eclectic tastes of its occupants. The air is tinged with the faint scent of powder and perfume, a lingering reminder of the performers who call this space their own.

Despite its small size, the dressing room exudes an undeniable sense of warmth and camaraderie, a sanctuary where secrets are shared and dreams take flight.

Walking over to the vanity, you plucked a familiar red lipstick off the dresser before turning it in your fingers. "Ya know, I used to hate when you'd steal my lipstick," Buggy joked softly, crossing his arms over the swell of his chest. 

Upon hearing his words, your fingers instinctively squeeze the familiar red lipstick perched on the edge of the dresser. You hold it tighter, feeling its smooth texture against your skin, a sense of nostalgia washing over you. Looking up in the vanity mirror, you make eye contact with Buggy. His eyes sparkle with fond memories, a playful glint dancing in their depths.

You chuckle softly at his remark, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you remember the countless times you had playfully raided his makeup collection. "Well, you always did have the best shade of red," you tease back, your voice laced with affection.

Setting the lipstick back down on the vanity, you turn to face Buggy, the warmth of his presence filling the room. Despite the gravity of the conversation looming between you, his easy demeanor brings a sense of comfort, grounding you in the present moment. 

(You know shits bad when you gotta go to the crazy killer pirate clown for advice and comfort. Love and life advice at that!)

As you lean against the vanity, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm hue across your features, you find yourself lost in a moment of quiet contemplation. Memories of past adventures with Buggy flood your mind, each one a vibrant snapshot of the bond you share.

"You know," Buggy begins, his tone softening as he meets your gaze, "I've missed having you around. Things just haven't been the same without your antics to liven up the place."

His words stir something deep within you, a mixture of gratitude and longing intertwining in your heart. Despite the passage of time and the distance between you, the connection you share with Buggy remains steadfast, a beacon of light in the darkness.

"I've missed you too," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

"It's been lonely without you."

A flicker of sadness crosses Buggy's features, his gaze softening with empathy. "I know, sweetheart," he says gently, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "But you're here now, and that's all that matters." You gently grasp the back of his hand that cradles your face. Almost afraid that you'll wake up in that cold and empty castle again. The warmth of Buggy's palm anchors you to the human world.

In that moment, as you stand together in the quiet intimacy of the dressing room, you are reminded of the strength of your bond with Buggy. Through thick and thin, laughter and tears, you know that he will always be there for you, ready to offer his support and unwavering friendship.

No matter the situation, you'd always been there to defend Buggy and build each other's esteem up. Even Mihawk knew not to slip up when talking about the Flashy Jester if he didn't want to be shanked again. 

Speaking of Mihawk-

"So, you gonna tell me why you showed up all of a sudden instead of sending a letter or are we gonna stand here quietly together?" His voice snapping you out of your thoughts with the buzz of its low tone.

"Don't get me wrong muneca-chan, I love seeing you." He softly muses, stepping closer towards you until he pulled the stool from under the vanity out and sits you on it before dropping into his own red chair. 

"But something tells me there's more to this visit than just catching up."

You let out a sigh, knowing you can't hide anything from Buggy. "You know me too well," you admit, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "There's something really important I need to talk to you about. Shanks already knows before he called me last night, stop making that face, and you can't tell anyone else under any circumstances!"

Buggy's eyebrows furrow in concern, his gaze searching yours for any hint of distress. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Taking a deep breath, you gather your thoughts before speaking. "It's about love," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I think I have feelings for someone, Buggy."

"I think I'm in love."

Buggy's eyes widen in surprise, his expression shifting from concern to understanding.

"Ah, love," he murmurs, his voice soft with sympathy. "Love can be a tricky thing, especially when it comes to matters of the heart."

You nod, grateful for his understanding. "I just don't know what to do," you admit, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I'm torn between staying here and following my heart."

Buggy places a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you in the midst of your turmoil. "Listen to me, [Name]," he says, his voice gentle yet firm. "You can't let fear hold you back from pursuing what makes you happy. If you have feelings for someone, then you owe it to yourself to explore them, regardless of the outcome."

You take in his words, feeling a sense of clarity wash over you. "Thank you, Buggy," you say softly, your voice filled with gratitude. "I needed to hear that."

Buggy gives you a reassuring smile, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "Anytime, sis," he replies, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Now, let's hear who the lucky one is!" 

Your smile stiffens before you whisper out quietly. Buggy frowns and leans closer from his chair.

"What's that, starshine?" 

As you gather your thoughts, the weight of your confession is lingering heavy in the air. Buggy's concern deepens, his brow furrowing as he leans in closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

With a sigh, you summon the courage to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's... it's Mihawk," you confess, your words hanging in the air like a delicate thread.

Buggy's eyes widen in surprise, his expression a mixture of shock and understanding. "Mihawk?" he repeats, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"As in, Dracule Mihawk?"

You nod slowly, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as the truth finally comes to light. "Yes, Mihawk," you confirm, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging within you. "I... I think I'm in love with him."

Buggy's initial reaction catches you off guard. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and for a moment, a look of concern flashes across his face. "Wait, hold on a second," he says, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"Are you serious?"

You nod, feeling a pang of uncertainty creeping in. "Yes, Buggy," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know it sounds crazy, but... I think I might be in love with him."

Buggy's expression darkens, his features contorting into a mixture of shock and concern. "Are you feeling okay?" he asks, his voice laced with worry. "I mean, have you been feeling sick or something?"

You shake your head, a sense of frustration bubbling up within you. "No, Buggy, I'm not sick," you retort, a hint of irritation seeping into your tone. "I'm serious about this."

Buggy lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his wild blue hair. "Look, muneca-chan," he begins, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "This isn't something to take lightly. Mihawk is... well, he's not exactly the most approachable guy, you know? And besides, he's your boss, for crying out loud!"

You feel a surge of defiance rising within you. "I know all of that, Buggy," you say firmly, your voice unwavering. "But I can't help how I feel."

Buggy's frustration mounts, and suddenly he's popping his hands off in a fit of anger.

"Has he been trying to feel up on you? OW- OKAY! PUT THE PALLET DOWN THAT ONE WAS EXPENSIVE!" 

While you were holding his makeup hostage, the clown was now rubbing where his hair brush had struck his pectoral. Slowly, you sat back down in the chair as he regarded you like a wild hellcat. A pit of dread now knotted your stomach. 

"I'm not joking Buggy, I need thoughts!" 

"And prayers, you're gonna need them with that eagle- NOT THE FUCKING FACE!" You lobbed a jar of hair cream at him before breaking down in the vanity stool. "Don't be an ass okay! I didn't say anything about you and Shanks!" You gasped, hoping that your voice wouldn't crack any further. 

The weight of your words hangs heavily in the air, and you realize just how much you've been holding back. "I... I'm sorry," you stammer, guilt washing over you as hot, fat tears slip from the corners of your eyes.

Before you can even register it, Buggy has crossed the room in a few quick strides and scooped you up into his strong arms, returning to his chair and settling you onto his lap like a small child.

With your face pressed into his striped shirt, you let the dam burst, unleashing all the pent-up tears you've been holding back. Buggy's hand runs soothingly over your back, cradling your head to his chest as he murmurs comforting words.

Reaching into his sleeve, he pulls out a ridiculously long handkerchief, prompting some weak laughter from you despite your tears.

"You've been doing that corny ass joke since we were kids," you sniffle, gingerly wiping your nose before he tosses the hanky into the wastebasket.

"Yeah, well, it still gets a laugh outta ya, so I'ma keep on with it," Buggy replies with a soft smile. He gazes down at you with those piercing eyes of his, scanning your face with a mixture of concern and affection.

Buggy lets out another exasperated sigh, his frustration evident but tempered by genuine worry. "Look, muneca-chan, I get it," he says, his voice gentler now. "Love can make you do crazy things, feel crazy things. But you need to be careful. Mihawk... he's a complicated guy. He's got a lot of walls up, and he's not exactly known for being... well, open-hearted. I know you guys are friends and I was shocked he let you stay with him. But love is a whole different ball game."

You nod, feeling a bit more grounded by his words and presence. "I know he's complicated, Buggy," you say, your voice steadier now. "But I can't help how I feel. I just needed to tell someone, to get it off my chest."

Buggy holds you a little tighter, his grip reassuring. "Well, you've told me now, and we'll figure this out together," he promises. "Just don't go making any rash decisions, okay? Take your time, think things through. And remember, no matter what happens, you've got me in your corner."

His words, laced with both caution and encouragement, bring a small but genuine smile to your face. "Thank you, Buggy," you whisper, leaning into his embrace. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Anytime, starshine," he replies softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "We'll get through this, one step at a time." He wipes the tears from your face with his warm thumbs, "But promise me you'll be careful, okay? I don't want to see you get hurt."

You can see the genuine concern in Buggy's eyes, and it touches your heart. Despite his gruff exterior, you know that he cares deeply for you, and his protective instincts are kicking in full force.

You nod, grateful for his understanding. "I just don't know what to do," you admit, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I'm torn between staying here and following my heart."

Buggy places a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you in the midst of your turmoil. "Listen to me, sis," he says, his voice gentle yet firm. "You can't let fear hold you back from pursuing what makes you happy. If you have feelings for Mihawk, then you owe it to yourself to explore them, regardless of the outcome." Your eyes glance over his right pec, knowing what picture was hidden inside that pocket. 

"But here's the thing about love, [Name]. It's not always easy to understand, and it's certainly not always convenient. But when you find someone who makes your heart skip a beat, someone who makes you feel alive in a way you've never felt before, well, you'd be a fool not to hold onto that with both hands."

Buggy's gaze softens, his features morphing into a look of genuine empathy. "Love is a complicated thing," he murmurs, his voice filled with compassion. "But if Mihawk is the one who holds your heart, then you owe it to yourself to pursue those feelings."

He gives you a reassuring smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his friendship and loyalty. "You'll figure it out, sis," he says, his voice filled with confidence. "And remember, I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

His words struck a chord deep within you, resonating with the turmoil of emotions that had been swirling inside you since Mihawk's departure. Suddenly, everything seemed to fall into place, the confusion and uncertainty giving way to a newfound clarity. Buggy gives you a reassuring smile, his eyes sparkling with warmth.

"Anytime, [Name]," he replies, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

You nod, grateful for Buggy's understanding and support. "Thank you, Buggy," you whisper softly , a sense of gratitude flooding your heart. "I needed to hear that."

As you stand wrapped in Buggy's embrace, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. His arms are strong and comforting, a reminder of the unwavering bond you share. But as he pulls back, a toothy grin spreads across his face, and you catch a glimpse of a familiar, sinister gleam in his eyes.

"And if he fucks up," Buggy says, his voice low and menacing, "there's gonna be one less Warlord in the sea."

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but chuckle nervously. Buggy's expression is a mix of protective determination and a hint of madness that you've come to recognize over the years. His blue curls frame his face, giving him an almost theatrical appearance, but you know better than to underestimate the seriousness behind his words.

His gaze sharpens, and for a moment, the room seems to grow darker as he continues. "I mean it, muneca-chan. Mihawk might be a badass with that big-ass sword of his, but he's no match for my flashy tricks. One wrong move, and I'll make sure he regrets it."

Buggy's eyes glint with a dangerous intensity, and you can tell that his big-brother instincts are in overdrive. Despite his eccentricities, you know that he would go to great lengths to ensure your happiness and safety. You reach out to place a hand on his arm, squeezing gently to remind him that you appreciate his concern.

"I know you would, Buggy," you say softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "But let's hope it doesn't come to that. I just needed to talk to someone who understands."

Buggy's expression softens at your words, the sinister edge fading as he looks at you with genuine affection. "Yeah, yeah," he mutters, rolling his eyes playfully. "Just remember, I'm always here for you, no matter what."

With that, he pulls you into another tight hug, his embrace warm and reassuring. You know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you'll always have Buggy by your side, ready to offer his unwavering support and friendship—even if it means taking on a Warlord of the sea.

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably live a very boring and un-flashy life."

"Oh no~, what a nightmare, HEY!"

He flashed you a smile as you held your recently pinched side. 

"Now, let's get you set up to spend the night. We've got a lot to catch up on." 

______________________________________________________________

And that wraps up chapter 4 of this series. Oh I am going to make you all work for 'that' delicious chapter.~

Part 5 is now posted.

At the time of this being posted, 5/19/2024, there is a poll ongoing for what, you, the lovely readers, would love to be called. Be sure to cast your votes!!

Make sure you check out the a03 account by the same name. Everything I have posted here is there in chronological order. I also have a few Buggy the Clown x Reader's posted in the masterlist! Give it a read if you please!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

#friends to lovers #one piece #buggy (one piece) #buggy x reader #mihawk x reader #slow burn #pining #dracule mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #dracule mihawk #mihawk #op mihawk #mihawk x y/n #mihawk x you #buggy fanfiction #mihawk fanfiction #mihawk fanart #opla x reader #op fanfic #op fanfiction #eventual smut #eventual romance #eventual happy ending #fluff #mihawk x maid #buggy x shanks #one piece buggy #akagami no shanks #red hair shanks

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Oooh! I think I got a fun one. Can I have some headcanons for the lamb? He was walking around one day and encountered a tall human who wears a cloak with lamb horns? He doesn't know their human until they remove their hood (Also the reader is nonbinary because gender gets boring sometimes :]) (Also I headcanon that humans are either nearly extinct or the all of them live underground.)

- Kneecaps Anon

Aw I adore this idea!!

Also this will take place in the early days of Lamb's cult (where they're still getting the hang of managing followers, rituals, etc...definitely long before slaying and indoctrinating all the bishops)

...........

While Lamb was crusading through an unknown part of the Old Faith, they came across the ruins of a village that looked most peculiar. Much unlike previous ones they've discovered.

The homes, although desecrated, were far bigger than ones Leshy's followers would live in. They could barely reach the doorknob!

So they continued to investigate, before noticing someone emerging from the bushes with a bag and bloody dagger.

It's you, a mysterious tall figure wearing a cloak and sandals. But what intrigued them the most were the horns that poked through your hood.

They were unmistakably a lamb's horns.

At first they were hopeful that another one of their kind survived the slaughter...although when they called out to you, you stopped and stared at them in bewilderment.

"W-Were you talking to me?"

"Of course! Are you a lamb, too?"

"...ah...I'm sorry to say this, but no. I am not." Realizing who this was upon seeing the Red Crown, you uncovered your hood, revealing that you were in fact human. "I can understand why my "horns" led to you to believe that."

"That's too bad.." They frown, before expressing surprise that a human was still living in these lands...believing that they've all gone extinct.

But you politely corrected them on the matter.

"There used to be a lot of us, living in villages just like this. My ancestors had treaties with the Bishops until they were attacked by the One Below. And for whatever reason they chose to take their anger out on us, demanding that we go live in their domains or perish. Obviously we refused and, well...now this little village is the only proof we ever existed here."

"I see.." Lamb grimaced. "I'm sorry to hear that. Are you the only one left?"

"Yeah. This place thrived for generations, invisible to the eyes of the Bishops, but all my friends and family either died off or fled to some other land, unable to cope with the constant feeling of danger all around us. Though I wanted to stay because I didn't want those false gods to scare me away from my home." You end your somber tale with a determined huff, still smiling. "But yeah...it sucks, but I've managed to survive for this long...so.."

Seeing as your views aligned with theirs, Lamb immediately invited you to join their cult, promising you safety and better living conditions in exchange for your devotion.

But unlike the more simple-minded animal followers they've wrapped around their finger, you weren't so easily convinced.

Although you admired lambs, you didn't like how this one was basically giving you the same ultimatum the Bishops once did to your ancestors: Join or perish. It seemed quite hypocritical.

In the end, you request to see the cult first and decide for yourself.

They oblige..but unfortunately for them, that means they can't just warp you there and use omnipresence to return to the temple grounds quickly.

But they knew they'll have to earn your respect and make a good first impression--and dropping you through a demonic portal's not exactly the best way to do that.

When you finally arrived, you were impressed by the architecture and the temple...

As well as all of Lamb's followers who flocked to you, awestruck at a newcomer like yourself. Some were familiar with your species, others have never seen anything like you before.

Regardless, they shook your hands in greeting, being fascinated by your cloak and how your hair looked, asking you so many questions that they nearly overwhelmed you.

You haven't gotten this much attention in years!

Lamb was lowkey jealous and pushed them all back to give you some breathing room.

The adorable creatures won your heart over, and you agreed to follow Lamb's teachings faithfully.

They simply changed the colors and symbol on your cloak to match those of the followers. You still kept the horns, as they found no reason to get rid of them.

Afterwards they showed you around, only to realize that you'll need some major accommodations if you were going to spend the rest of your life here.

You couldn't exactly take the mattress from your village here, and the little beds/shelters were too small for you to comfortably sleep in; and grassy gruel and berry dishes weren't going to sustain your hunger for long.

Nevertheless, they vowed to meet your needs, though they also worried about how well you'll fit in and get along with everyone--considering you're the only human.

Later around sundown, you noticed one follower (the only one who didn't greet you this morning) sitting in front of a makeshift grave with a depressed expression.

Lamb explains they've been stuck that way since their indoctrination several days ago, being the sole survivor of a massacre. The grave was that of their lover, who was murdered right in front of them by one of the Bishops themselves.

The sheep learned what happened via mindreading..but apparently it was so traumatic, they spared you from the details.

However, they expressed frustration in failing to convince this follower to move on and start contributing to the cult.

They've exhausted every possible effort at motivating them: inspiration, random gifts, even a funeral service was conducted (and for someone who wasn't even in the cult)..but nothing worked.

Lamb was starting to get angry, but quickly calms down and just reassures you not to worry, instead trying to show you where you'll be sleeping.

"Wait, do I have permission to approach them, Leader? Maybe I can help them out."

"....I doubt it. It's like talking to a piece of stone....but you have my permission to try." They allow you to go, wondering what you'll do differently.

You just went over to the follower and introduced yourself, sitting beside them for a few minutes in the hopes your presence would comfort them.

At first Lamb thinks you're wasting your time, but somehow....you got that silent follower to actually talk about their lover and all the good memories they had together, getting choked up by the end.

You offered them a hug, which they accepted as they buried their face into your chest, sobbing their little heart out and wailing over the cruelty of the Bishops.

It filled you with both sorrow and anger, wanting nothing more than to see their blasphemous empire crumble because of the grief they brought upon this one follower alone.

Meanwhile, Lamb's standing there just..completely shocked, especially after you calmed down the follower and bring them over to them.

"F-Forgive me, my Leader, if...I was being a nuisance by not listening to you." They apologize. "If you want me to start working right now, then I shall. I feel okay enough to do so. Whatever you need, just say the word."

"Wha...??? But....n-never mind. You're forgiven, [F/n]. For now just get some rest." Lamb dismissed them, and only after they've gone to bed do they turn to you with comically-wide eyes. "By the One Below...how did you do that???"

"Dunno." You shrugged. "I guess all they needed was a hug."

"...then why didn't they just ask me for one???"

"They probably didn't know they needed one until now. But I figured your mindreading powers would've anticipated that."

"...are you insulting the might of the Red Crown!?"

"I mean no offense, Leader." You chuckle, patting their wooly head. "Now, where will I be sleeping?"

Although a little irked, Lamb quickly got over it, relieved that you were able to help that follower...how ever you managed to do it.

You had a selfless heart, and that was a good asset to have in the cult.

Why were they ever worried? You'll fit in just fine.

#clanask #kneecaps anon #cult of the lamb x reader #cotl x reader #cotl lamb x reader #lambert x reader #platonic #headcanons

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skeleton's child is determined to put make up on him. How does skeleton react?

Undertale Sans - He lays on the floor and lets the kid do what they want to him. He falls asleep after ten minutes or so. When he wakes up, his skull is a rainbow. There's so much makeup it will take several weeks to wash fully lol. Sans has a greenish face for a good month. He doesn't care though.

Undertale Papyrus - Sure, if he can do it as well! They are both fabulous before the end of the day, as they use all MTT products Papyrus has.

Underswap Sans - He lets the child do what they want before realizing they're late for work and running to the car, completely forgetting the makeup. He's confused as to why everyone is chuckling before he sees he has a half-weird cat drawn on the cheek. Oh well. He's not going to break his kid's soul by erasing it.

Underswap Papyrus - Since he's quite a specialist in the matter with the many cosplays he created, he's teaching his kid how to do it properly, exercising on him. They're having fun using fake blood to transform their father into a zombie. That's a good father-child bonding moment.

Underfell Sans - He's not sure about it but he can't say no to his child so he doesn't really have any choice, right? He regrets it the moment his kid says there's not enough glitter and then proceeds to throw a handful of it in his eye sockets. Red can't open his eyes anymore, lying on the floor like a dying sea star, defeated by a three-year-old. The kid keeps giggling and bouncing on his belly, celebrating their victory.

Underfell Papyrus - He's in the bus. His face is full of child drawings because they looked really sad they couldn't paint his face before he went to the grocery store :( And he couldn't say no. Now, if someone is staring a little too long at his face, he just growls menacingly. What you're looking at? He's fabulous!

Horrortale Sans - He jumps a little every time the kid goes too close to his headhole, but other than that, he's chill. He even lets them draw on his arms and ribs. He looks like he fell into painting, but the child is having the fun of their life. He's just purring, happy to spend some time with his baby.

Horrortale Papyrus - He can't stay too long in the same position, so he proposes he puts makeup on the kid instead. He will happily paint his kid's face like whatever character they want to be. He's a bit sad he can't let them do the say, but they would have to climb on him and it's not good for his back.

Swapfell Sans - Absolutely not! The kid gives him puppy eyes. ... FINE. But only around his sockets. He ends up having the entire skull painted, and the hands, and the ribs... Yeah, he's weak. At least his kid had fun.

Swapfell Papyrus - Whatever suits your boat. He offers his body to his child. The kid paints him blue on all bones visible. He's going to stay blue for a few weeks as he realizes trying to wash his body his kid used markers instead of paint :D Oh well. That's life. Nox pretends he doesn't know him when they're leaving the house until his bones are clean again lol.

Fellswap Gold Sans - No thanks, he already put makeup in the morning. He can put some on his kid though. Wine has professional skills and will spend a few hours to make them look gorgeous. He then goes parade in the streets with his child to make all these peasants jealous as hell.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He has some body paint and shows his kid how it's done. They both work hard to make Coffee and the child the same color as the living room wall to scare the shit out of S/O when they're coming back from work. They're quite proud of their job!

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons