#and i don't want them to be softer to me. just maybe see me as human yknow? that not every mistake just another proof that i am a failure

[molagboop]

Examining Chozo Anatomy: Arms

Welcome to my deep-dive into Chozo anatomy. Today, I'll be discussing features present on the arms and hands of our feathery fellows.

This post exists simultaneously as a reference for artists and as a fascinating look into the world of Chozo anatomy for all audiences. Whether you're here for references showing how Chozo arms are built or you enjoy taking a peek at Metroid Dread's character models out of game, I've got you covered!

You'll find plenty of images and a full breakdown of the anatomical structure of Chozo arms beneath the cut.

First, a quick overview: from a musculoskeletal standpoint, Chozo arms are built exactly like human arms, diverging at the hands. Chozo hands look like bird feet that evolved in much the same way our hands did.

Part 1: Elbows

Dread Chozo have feathers protruding from their scaly elbows.

Underneath every fountain of large plumage is a soft bed of down. This manifests in patches of plush, miniscule feathers that are grouped together somewhat densely.

Our subjects appear to have primarily smooth skin occasionally interrupted by spots of down from which plumage arises, but I think Chozo that are feathery all over are neat. The concept art and 100% gallery rewards seem to paint a picture of softer Chozo with more feathers all over their bodies (save for their plated arms and hard beaks), but the in-game models appear smooth. We're all familiar with Raven Beak's bald head (which many of us have expressed a desire to slap), but perhaps that head is covered in a fine layer of velvety feathers?

I managed to remove Quiet Robe's left pauldron and embroidered sleeve, so I have a fuller view of his whole arm, including the base of his feathery neck.

Quiet Robe's shoulders are quite smooth. If you want to give peepaw Robe fuzzy shoulders, I certainly wouldn't complain: you don't need to remain 100% on-model, especially considering there's a gaping hole in his back underneath that miter, and the front of his robe hides the abyss instead of an old man's breast. Corners were cut to prevent obtrusive clipping in cutscenes, whose animation plays out in-engine through scripting while the game is running (this is how the game manages to transition seamlessly from a cutscene into a boss fight).

If you'll direct your attention back up towards our Zero Mission concept art, you'll see that the Chozo of yore had spiked forearms/elbows. Those structures may indeed be feathers (upon closer inspection, they do seem feather-shaped: all three characters appear to display different variations in feathering, particularly in the shape of the feathers and how densely clustered they are), but the older designs also appear to possess a carapace of sorts?

The segments between their limbs are more pronounced, sort of like a beetle's exoskeleton. I'm not sure whether to think older Chozo designs had harder skin with feathers situated in specific locations (notably around the face and shoulders), or if our good chums are just skin and bones. Maybe the discs defining their wrists, ankles and elbows are just particularly bony, and I'm misreading their forearm feathers as spined protrusions.

Whatever the case may be, the older designs are charming. I find myself drawn to them despite the focus on submersing my own Chozo in fleshy, feathery pseudo-realism.

Part 2: Forearms and Hands

Like the feet of real birds, the tops of Chozo forearms are lined with rows of hardened scutes. Quiet Robe has cracked, chunky, pronounced plating that seems to show a bit of wear: a hallmark of aging.

Chozo hands consist of three fingers and a thumb. Their digit count is consistent with the amount of toes that most real birds possess. Interestingly, Quiet Robe's knuckles are particularly pointed and pronounced, where Raven Beak X's aren't*. They remind me of jagged little spurs: useful in hand-to-hand combat.

RB-X may not have raised knuckles, but the real Raven Beak's power suit has white knuckle guards that indicate his own might not be so different from our gentle friend. They could also exist to give his armored fist some punching power despite a lack of biological spurs, but this is all speculation.

The palms of both Quiet Robe and RB-X's hands appear to match their inner elbow patches: Quiet Robe's palms are bathed in a violet hue, while Raven Beak X has pink flesh. This is more apparent on RB-X than on our Thoha chum, but that coloration appears to extend some ways down the underside of the forearm.

Part 3: Those Weird Patches of Skin on the Inner Elbow

One thing you'll notice is that Chozo have patches of flesh on their inner elbows, under their arms, and between their fingers.

This flesh tends to differ in color from the rest of the skin. Quiet Robe's are darker, with more saturated red-violet hues.

The patches under the arms run in tandem with the serratus, the muscle on the sides of the torso that reaches inward towards the abdominals.

I tried to take a less weird shot, but couldn't figure out how to position the bones in a way that would provide a decently lit angle without warping the model horribly.

RB-X's patches are stretched, perhaps a quirk relating to its size or an abridging of the feature via the X tampering with the related genes to suit its fancy. I've likened their appearance to the gliding membranes of animals like flying squirrels... not that these are likely to assist the creature in any gliding with how little surface area they inhabit, but their dimension and the way they resemble some sort of connective tissue spanning between the segments of each limb is certainly evocative. It's like having webbed feet, but instead of the webbing being between one's toes, it's situated between the bicep and the forearm.

I'm unsure of whether to write their appearance off as something only RB-X has, or to take them into consideration for Chozo morphology. I've entertained the thought that some Chozo's inner and under-arm patches do manifest more like this (flattening against the body when the arm is extended and stretching as above when the elbow is bent), and how one's flesh appears is a matter of genetics, or perhaps a feature of aging.

As humans get older, some sections of skin begin to loosen and sag. I don't imagine this is much different for Chozo: Old Bird and Grey Voice certainly have their fair share of wrinkles in the manga. At first, I thought the way RB-X's flesh stretched between its limbs looked somewhat taut and uncomfortable, but the more I think about this from the lens of aging, the more likely it seems that these sections could be spots of loose skin. Perhaps this isn't an X-borne bug, but a feature? Who knows.

It's a lot harder to see the patches between the fingers on Quiet Robe's model, but they're present with a great deal of clarity on Raven Beak X.

I think I mentioned this in my post about Quiet Robe's model, but these patches remind me of an anatomical feature seen in older official works (like the concept art for Metroid: Zero Mission). Older depictions of the Chozo had defined, segmented structures on the biceps and the underside of the forearms.

Also of note is the fact that these structures appear on the legs of older Chozo.

Now that we've covered in-game examples, I'd like to give more examples of this feature in concept. First off, you can see these patches in the gallery reward for 100%'ing Burenia in Dread. Upon closer observation, the prisoner on the left appears to display these patches.

The underarm patches are obscured, as their arms are resting pretty close to their torso, but you can barely see the pink patch of flesh running along the serratus and disappearing beneath the arm. The elbow patches are a little clearer.

It's very difficult to see, but I think the coloration around the prisoners' knees may also show some stray sections of pink, matching the leftmost prisoner's inner elbow. Dread's interpretation of the Chozo could possibly have similar patches behind their knees, but I don't see it. It's all up in the air: I say do as you please in that department.

Now for our last example of shirtless individuals in Dread's key art: this hunter** from Ghavoran's 100% completion reward. The inner elbow is a bit obscured, but the modified serratus is clear as day.

The odd patches on Chozo arms were an anatomical subject I wanted to present in-depth because they've changed over the course of two decades: they moved from the sides of the biceps and forearms to the inner elbows and under the arms. Dread does a few things differently from Prime and Zero Mission, which is not a bad thing!

When illustrating characters of a fictional species from existing media, I like to take different depictions across generations into account. Morrowind's Argonians are unlike those we see in Skyrim, and the differences are even more staggering between Arena and Daggerfall! The Chozo have also undergone a few design changes between installments, though admittedly, there's far less whiplash between the Chozo of Dread and Zero Mission than there is between the Argonians of Daggerfall and Arena.

In both cases, the older depictions of the species in question aren't rendered "obsolete" or "not canon" by the newer designs. I'm of the opinion that these discrepancies merely open up more opportunities for interesting and diverse characters. I love seeing Argonian characters with digitigrade legs as Morrowind NPCs had, but the plantigrade layout on characters from the rest of the series is just as fine.

You could give your Chozo the arm structure of older designs, adhere to the more recent arm flesh patch conventions, or toy with a mix of the two: the world is your oyster! You could opt to omit them entirely! Don't let the most recent iteration of the canon hold you back: it's always worth taking a hint from earlier designs when you're playing in a sandbox with decades-old franchises.

I'm not here to say "this is how Dread does Chozo: adhere to the most recent canon or perish": I'm here to show you what Dread does so you can take these design choices into consideration when drawing your own interpretation of this species. Take liberties, and take them often! If you want to remain on-model, that's also fine.

That wraps up our investigation of Chozo arms, but if you notice something I neglected to mention, feel free to point it out!

**Possibly Raven Beak? Who knows: he's old and grey, this one's grey. Maybe these soldiers are out on a hunting trip with the boss, or perhaps he's proving his worth as a warrior by slaying Corpius' uncle solo and cuirass-less. There's no way to say for certain who this is or what's going on: Mawkin culture isn't elaborated upon much in writing during Metroid Dread. I make up my own lore as I go.

*If RB-X's form is an accurate depiction of Raven Beak's pre-death arms. Who knows, maybe his physical form has crusty armored old man scutes like Quiet Robe when Samus piledrives him into the surface of the planet, and the arms we see in-game are the product of the X parasite choosing the more glamorous, younger Raven Beak's smooth baby arms from the pool of genetic material it extracted from his still-writhing form. We'll never know.

#Chozo #Metroid Dread #blender shenanigans #chozo anatomy #Quiet Robe #Raven Beak #RB-X #Raven Beak X #post created February 23 2023 #Metroid

[diomedrian]

It's so WEIRD that during the day I am like. Dead and lazy and absolutely do NOT want to move. And the minute it's five and it's dark outside, hoo boy do I not only have a to do list BUT ALSO the motivation and the energy to do it all

#personal #this is absolutely bollocks. im thinking. maybe i am just NOT. a day person. #i knew that years ago but i forgot in-between cos living w ur parents will do that to u #on that note. doesn't it sort of make u angry and relieved at the same time. that #ur parents are just people. humans. faulty. lovely. i wish they didn't hold themselves to such high standards and claim to be authority on #everything. i wish they went easy on themselves. so maybe they can be softer with themselves and in turn softer w me #and i don't want them to be softer to me. just maybe see me as human yknow? that not every mistake just another proof that i am a failure #on that note. isn't it SO GOOD. almost wonderful that we give meaning to things. yes yes its v hard to let go. Ive had to sit with that toO #BUT once you've mourned and grieved and sat in your misery. you can decide how much meaning it will have in your life. how much of it do u #want to use. its a mountain now but it can be a footnote if u will. it's small 'i know im sorry im working on making it better' but it can #be the center of everything. if u want it. the world is absolutely yours if u want it. AND ANOTHER EXCITING PART? #u get as many chances at it as u want. as u like. #its always been for u. #not to jinx anything skfkskkdksks i dont want the motivation to go pls lord

[a-hazbin-reader]

I've seen you mention that alastor would make little deer bleats in a few fics, do you have anything for the reader hearing him bleat for the first time, like reader said something flirty that caught him off guard or while petting his ears, alastor would definitely be the time to be like "what ever are you talking about dear, you're hearing things" and try to change the subject out of embarrassment

- 🐞

I LOVE IT

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Suggestive, Explicit s e x towards the end

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor makes deer noises, usually when he's pissed off or exerting some of his power

It's a very emotional and unintentional thing, something he normally can't help or hide

Usually, you can hear buck grunts, warning calls, though elk bugle sounds dominate most of the other noises he makes

You didn't even know he was capable of making softer sounds until you found out by accident

The two of you were alone, sharing a romantic moment with you in his lap and his hands caressing your body

You had pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath when his twitching ears suddenly got your attention

Not that Alastor minded, keeping his mouth busy with your neck and shoulder instead

As if you could ever pass up the opportunity to touch those fluffy ears...

You couldn't help but scratch and rub his furry ears, leaning into kiss one while giving it a playful nip

Only to be surprised by the soft bleat that escapes from Alastor and the way his entire body goes stiff out of embarrassment

"Alastor, did you just-"

"Would you look at the time?! I must go, darling! Things to do, people to see!"

Leaves you on the floor, on your back, and in shock

You try to bring it up to him later but that doesn't work-

"Alastor, about that sound you made..."

"Hm? Oh! I merely had to clear my throat! Not to worry, darling! It won't happen again."

"But I want it to."

👀

It becomes a game between you two, well...more of a game for you, Alastor has never been so nervous in his fucking life

You're on a mission to hear that adorable noise again by any means possible

He's eating breakfast?? You're leaning over him and kissing along his neck while pouring him tea

Which doesn't work, he just tilts his head and gives you a contented growl before continuing with his meal

He's taking a small break? Eyes closed and relaxed? You try going for his ears again, massaging them

That doesn't work either, instead he gives you a warm smile and pulls you down to lay with him

You try flirting with him, maybe you can say something sultry and catch him so off guard he makes that sound again?

Instead, you just get yourself into trouble because instead of something small and subtle you just drop a fucking bomb instead

You corner him and pin him to the wall, mustering up every bit of courage and control to push forward

"Do you believe dreams can come true? Because I dream of you cumming inside me."

WHAT THE FUCK Y/N WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT PICK UP LINE

Angel

Oh that makes sense

It doesn't work, instead Alastor gets a predatory look on his face and he's pulling you closer to him

"Luckily for you, my dear~ I happen to have a soft spot for dreamers such as yourself~"

Oh fuck

It actually does end up working in your favor, just not the way you thought it would

You don't even remember how you end up naked on your back, legs spread to accommodate Alastor between them

Both of you are close, having been at it for hours at this point, desperate ragged sounds coming from the two of you

Your nails are digging into his back, no doubt leaving nasty marks that he'll later tease you for

He has one clawed hand on your hip while the other grips and makes deep grooves into the headboard

You're nearly out of it, mind fizzy and hot with the feeling of being so full of Alastor's cock that you almost miss your chance

You know exactly how to get that sound out of him

Suddenly, your legs lock around him and you're tugging him down to you to give him a desperate steamy kiss

He's caught off guard and startled but eagerly reciprocates your actions, chasing a building orgasm between you both

He pulls away to growl and pant, head rolling back as his thrusts become sharp and erratic

You tug him back to you by his hair and suddenly give him a watery smile, barely able to hold on because you're so close

"A-Alastor...haa...I love you...~"

And that's what does it, his eyes widen in surprise as he suddenly releases inside you, letting out a pathetic sounding bleat

He's so mortified afterwards, burying his face in your chest as you comb your fingers through his hair. Both of you shuddering and trying to catch your breaths

"You...you are an evil evil person..."

You can't help but laugh and kiss his head, scratching around his antlers affectionately

"I love you too, Alastor~ Every part of you~"

This one got away from me...it's probably not what you asked for but... I hope you like it!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

[predestinatos]

you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆｡🌷

summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.

tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!

"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.

The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.

The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.

This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.

You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.

So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.

"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.

"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.

Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.

He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.

The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.

The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.

Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.

So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.

"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.

"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.

"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.

A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.

"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.

Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.

"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.

"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.

"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.

"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.

"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.

"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.

"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.

You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.

"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.

You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.

"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.

"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.

"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.

"Max... Max!! Max Max-"

He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.

The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.

He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.

It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.

"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.

"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.

"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"

"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.

#max verstappen #f1 #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 #formula one #f1blr #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula 1 x reader

[writingoddess1125]

You Give Them a Massage 💆‍♂️

Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk.

Buy me a KO-FI

Luffy

Luffy while not exactly needing massages enjoys the physical affection.

You will focus on his spine as you gently knead his muscles into relaxation. Which usually turns into you kneading a soft rubbery feeling since he will relax so much it's like he turns into a toy.

"Are you stretching out?"

You question as you realize you've kneaded him into puddy. As well as praising the nice clean lemon scented lotions you used.

He will giggle at the feeling and eventually fall asleep at your touch.

"Your hands are sooo nice (Y/N)!'

Sanji

A massage for Sanji usually starts out as physical therapy for his legs since the muscles are so tight and locked up it causes him pain. Stretching him out leads to him usually Biting a Pillow and groaning in discomfort.

*Please watch for your viewing pleasure ;3

Once done with that you massages away. Focusing on his legs and thighs in order to get him relaxed. Using nice peach scented lotion to help him relax.

"Your hands are heavenly my dear~"

He will flirt with you while on the table but eventually just develope into groans of bliss.

Zoro

Zoro will be stubborn and not want a message at first. However fall into it when his shoulders are sore.

You have to use baby oil for him since his skin is very rough. You have to use a lot of strength to work out the knots in his shoulders, having felt stones that were softer.

"This is ridiculous, I don't see... ohh"

Once you hit that point that has been hurting him he will fall under your spell. Humming in gentle delight as you work out the sorness and tension from his shoulders.

He will fall asleep, snoring rathed loudly as you smooth out his shoulders.

"That was.. very very nice"

Usopp

Usopp will be down for a massage, especially since all his maintenance om the ship make his arms sore.

At first talking your ear off about fake stories as you worked, using different mango lotions on his hands to make them soft.

"You know, I traveled to this island once that had beautiful mermaids, they were all over.. over oh that feels nice"

Will eventually fall into a dreamy like state as he will mumble gentle praise as you work up and down his arms.

"That was so nice (Y/N) thank you"

Nami

Oh poor Nami- Her lower back is always a problem for her! So when you offer a massage she jumps at the opportunity.

You work at the very strong tension on her lower back and help ease the ache. Using nice orange scented lotion for her to add a bit of aroma therapy to the room.

"Gods that's so nice... ugh having boobs suck-"

She will grumble earning some nice chuckles out of both of you. Casual conversation will take place between the two of you as you work, but at the end silence will win over as she's too relaxes to speak.

"Thank you (Y/N) you're a life saver~"

Buggy

Buggy never talks about how sometimes his joints ache after using his devil fruit. Mainly his neck if he detaches his head for long periods of time.

Will throw a mini temper tantrum as you tell him to get on the table, which he does even if he makes a fuss.

Once you start this man is all moans and whimpers. Feeling you work the muscles in his neck into relaxation.

"Fucckkkk" He will moan and pretty much fall apart under your skilled hands. The nice strawberry lotion filling the room which makes him even more complient and relaxed. Defiently the type to get 'excited' during a massage as well.

"Well.. maybe we can do this again?"

Shanks

Shanks will be open to a massage, however it takes him a while to actually relax.

You focus on his shoulders and side of his body. Especially the one with his missing arm, He does get phantom pains and were the muscles are suppose to connect on his missing arm sometimes clench at the pack of stimulation. So you have to carefully work those muscles with your fingers and travel up to his shoulders and side of his body.

"...Thank you (Y/N)"

He will sigh out, feeling the ache in his arm fade from your fingers as the cucumber lotion helps him relax. Will try and crack a few jokes with you here and there but will eventually relax enough to allow silence.

"It's been a while since I've felt this nice, Thank you again"

Mihawk

When Mihawk finally allows you to give him a massage after pestering him for a while you see why- It's like his entire back is made of cobblestone- You question how he gets any sleep with this much tension!

It takes a good hour just to work out the knots before you can even begin to give him a proper massage. He will grunt only at the nice feeling of you working his muscles into submission, the Eucalyptus lotion helping his mind fade into tranquil bliss as you work.

Mihawk is dead silent the while time you work, enjoying the peaceful silence as you get him to relax and ease the pain in his entire back.

Once finishes you are close to exhaustion.

"Thank you deeply (Y/N)"

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #shanks x reader #one piece shanks #shanks one piece #shanks #usopp x reader #god usopp #one piece usopp #usopp #zoro headcanons #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #nami #nami one piece #nami x reader #sanji x you #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece luffy

[angelshimaa]

━━ [ 𝟒:𝟐𝟗 ] ;; 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

✧ cw :: fem!reader (bkg calls reader 'my girl' once), fluff, bkg calls you ‘babe’ once, hinted at that denki has a crush on you, you just wanna braid his hair

✧ a/n :: finally some fluff 🤭 i actually really liked writing this one !!

“your hair is actually a curse.”

your words come out a little above a whisper, absent-minded as you play with his hair, his head resting in your lap. granted, the blond hair is softer than it looks, but its uneven spikes barely allowed for any diversity in hairstyles.

“like, what do you mean i can't braid it?” this isn't the first time this exasperated complaint is voiced and you hear bakugou snort, the corners of his lips tilting upwards in a half-grin.

“thank god, i’d look like shit with braids.” you try to envision them on him, but the fact that his face is upside down doesn’t help at all. what you do see is the light from the warm day peaking through the thin curtains to kiss his face, and you're reminded of how unnecessarily pretty your boyfriend is.

“who said you don't already look like shit?” you can't help it, and when he looks up at you, eyebrows raised as if you both know better, you grin and raise yours back— as if to suggest that maybe he doesn't.

“don’t think you'd be here if i did, babe.” his grin looks boyish and you can't understand why he prefers contorting his features into a grimace.

it's your turn to snort, fingers sectioning some of his choppy bangs off to as to fiddle around with them specifically. “maybe i’m into guys who look like shit, katsuki. ever think about that?”

“if you were, you would be in dunceface’s room right now, not mine.” it's too quick of a response to not have been thought of before, and you flick the top of his forehead. he's done it to you many times before, and you understand why— it was a little fun.

“kaminari is actually really nice, katsu, leave him be.”

bakugou rolls his eyes— of course you'd think he's nice. “he’s even better when he's not hitting on my girl— he should try that sometime.” you chuckle at his grumbling, eyebrows knitted together to frame his eyes. he's cute when he's harmlessly jealous.

“even if he was— i fear my heart is already taken.” you fake a look of sorrow. “a shame, really.”

katsuki's eyes gleam in daylight as he scoffs. “‘a shame’ my ass— you're so in love with me it makes you look stupid.”

he's right, the both of you know he is. neither of you would have it any other way.

“you say that as if you don't kiss the ground i walk on, katsu.” your smile is softer and it sends a pang to his heart.

“and you deserve every kiss.” it's a cheesy line, one a past him would likely cringe at, but he finds no shame in making his devotion to you well known.

you dip your head down to give him a peck on the lips, grinning. the heart eyes he gives you when you're that close has the butterflies resting in your stomach kick up. “that’s what i thought, katsuki. now... have you ever thought about straightening your hair?”

you laugh at the horror that crosses over his face, scowl settling in his face as if to tell you to not even think about it— it doesn't matter how badly you want to braid it.

katsuki's whipped. he knows from the way he thinks you laugh like a summer afternoon, warm and excited, but even he had his limits.

✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3

taglist (fill in this form to join!) :: @maeby-cursed @katsukismrs @himikoslove @pasteldaze @afairywithacrown @moonshuul @https-spacekay @k0z3me

#— signed ⋆·ʚ⁺ #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugo fluff #mha bakugou #mha bakugo x reader #mha bakugo katsuki #mha x you #mha x y/n #bakugou imagine #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugo katsuki x reader

[familyvideostevie]

steel drum weight of me

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni

summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k

warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie

a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.

__

Jackson looks its best in the winter.

You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.

It's also fucking cold.

But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.

Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.

Things could be worse.

You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.

Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.

You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.

The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.

"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"

"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.

The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.

The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.

He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.

"How was the wall?"

"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"

"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"

He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."

You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.

"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.

"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.

"Hey now, what --"

You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"

He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.

The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.

And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.

It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.

"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.

"I'm fine --"

"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"

"I said I'm --"

"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.

"Alright," he says. "Move, then."

You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.

"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."

Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.

"What's it made of?"

"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."

He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."

You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.

"Cute."

"Gimme those hands, big guy."

The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.

"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"

"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.

"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."

He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."

You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.

And, boy, he touches you back.

So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.

Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.

"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."

"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.

"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."

"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"

You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.

"What? Can't hear over the water."

You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."

"Don't think that's what you said."

"It's what I meant."

And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.

"Alright," he says.

You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.

Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"

"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."

"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"

"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"

"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.

So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.

"You just gonna look at it?"

You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.

Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.

"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.

It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.

Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.

You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.

He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."

"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.

He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."

You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.

"So is that a no?"

You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.

"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.

"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.

"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.

Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.

You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.

"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."

He laughs.

His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.

"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"

"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"

"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"

His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.

Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.

You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.

"Hell of a salve," he manages.

You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."

His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."

"You never stop, do you?"

Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."

You laugh into his neck. "Good."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction

[gremlingottoosilly]

More on the poor girl who’s 141’s chewtoy?

She has the worst fate!! Being a pet wife/incubator for one monster is bad enough, but it can be manageable if your new owner isn't an asshole and doesn't treat you like a lifeless object. It's a rare case, sure, but even Konig is somewhat softer after you get his eggs, the mating instincts in monsters are all kicking in. The 141 however...I love to see them as a pack of different breed shifters, maybe were-creatures like bears, wolves, and various birds...they all have this semi-animalistic mentality, they formed a pack bond that is stronger than any blood relations. They are more than family and it's only natural that they share the same darling, yes? Unfortunately for you, it is only natural for them, and you're soon getting dragged from the human pet shop by an excited overgrown werewolf with a dumb mohawk that chirps about getting such a pretty girl for his team!! You are never alone - every time other team members are on a mission, the other ones take care of you, always keeping watch over your silly escape attempts like humans have any future in the monster world now( Gaz is usually the one who is softer with you, his nature as a werebird is making him somewhat more caring, he will drag you a lot of shiny gifts and flashy clothes because he is pretty and he wants his girl to be pretty! Soap is usually the one to always fuck you, unfortunately. Being a classic werewolf, he is too fucking horny for his own good, always stuck in a knot with you, always mating and hoping that you will give birth to healthy pups, even though he is somewhat sad they are mostly taken away for the training needs( his pack mentality is strong, so if you really really really want at least some of your children to stay with you, you should beg Soap to allow you to see them occasionally - he would gladly steal the pups back to base, but it would mean you won't give him as much attention(

@ceilidho mostly inspired me for this, but werebear!Price is literally perfect and I won't stand for otherwise. He is big, burly, with a soft tummy and warm hands that would easily push you down, ass up in the air because you were a naughty little incubator and whined too much about Soap and Gaz being too rough( he knows your limits, and also knows that they are spoiling you too much! You need some discipline and your bear captain is gladly providing you with spanks that make your ass raw, with his teeth and a dick that takes away your ability to walk at least for a few days( he is older than every other member of the pack, and he won't really bother you too much with sex - he knows you're tired, especially if you're pregnant, and he enjoys slow cockwarming sessions and just laying in the nest with you, false hybernating on your swollen, milk-filled breasts.

Ghost is...complicated. You don't even know what type of shifter he is at first, he is too fucking secretive to even talk about it. Only after a few involuntary breakdowns, could you catch a glimpse of his shadowy form - whatever animal-type monster he was, staid in the past. He is all shadows now, dark and glossy with smoke tendrils that help him handle you in place every time you become too squirmy. You were so convinced Simon hated you at first, just a dumb human who disrupts the balance of their pack, but your fears were proven wrong once you were pressed against a wall, thick dark tendrils squeezing in and out of your pussy. Ghost is the only one who can't breed you, and it only makes him more protective whenever you're pregnant.

#cod #cod x reader #yandere cod #yandere soap #yandere price #yandere ghost #yandere gaz #tw: monster fucking #monster!141 #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader

[aphrogeneias]

1) We’re having a movie night, just like we’ve always done. Your thigh is touching mine, and my thoughts won’t stop wandering.

this screams eddie omg

best friend!eddie munson x fem!reader + we’re having a movie night, just like we’ve always done. your thigh is touching mine, and my thoughts won’t stop wandering.

warnings: a bit of perv!eddie. a tiny bit. mentions of oral sex (fem receiving) and fingering. i kind of went a little off the prompt? oopsies?

Eddie can't pay attention.

He should be. Dustin is going to quiz him about this movie’s entire plot, ask him who his favorite characters were, what he thought of the lore. The boy, a senior now, much to his disbelief, had begged him to go see it after watching it himself.

It's not like he's hard to convince. A noble dwarf sent on a quest to save an innocent child from an evil sorceress. His bread and butter. Extra buttery popcorn, chocolate, you. Right beside him, wearing his jacket, feet tucked under yourself as you lean sideways over him, bare knees touching his denim covered thighs.

You're barely touching, but he can't help but let his eyes travel to your thighs, stretching the skirt you are wearing. The hand he keeps diligently on the arm rest flexes, the other grips his drink harder.

This attraction isn't new — it has been here since you started tutoring him on English at the start of his last senior year, and it remained, ever blossoming, every time you were around him — but his wandering thoughts recently grew a mind of their own.

The film’s dialogue and epic soundtrack are only background to his own private fantasy. Eddie can barely touch the popcorn, barely listen to your commentary, as he thinks of what he'd do if you let him do what he couldn't stop thinking about.

Would you let him touch you? Slide a hand over your thigh, feel your skin under his palm. Would it be as soft as he imagined? Softer, maybe. He thinks about what you would do if you let him squeeze you as he wanted, part your thighs with his rough hands, spread you open.

You're sitting in the back, no one would catch you. Would you be quiet as he kneeled at your feet? Would you be quiet if he asked? He'd ask nicely. You'd be good, he knew you would.

Would you bite your lip, taste your own lip gloss the way he dreamed of tasting, as he pulled your panties past your hips, and down your legs? What color would they be? Red, black, white? Cotton or lace? He wanted to taste them. He could practically smell you.

Would you keep quiet as he feasted on you, made out with your pussy like he wanted to? How would you sound keeping those sweet moans back, biting your hand, pouting those lips at him? Would you whimper, would you pull his hair? God, he wanted you to.

He wanted to suck on your clit until your pretty eyes rolled back in your head. Fuck you with his tongue until you cream on his mouth, and squeezed his head between your thighs. Would you let him fuck you with fingers after? Would you feel as tight, as warm, as he dreamed? He knew you would.

“Eds?”

A snap of your fingers brings him back to reality. You're still in the same position, he's still staring straight forward, eyes glazed, mind far. His head snaps to the side, meeting your gaze. “Hey. Yeah?”

“Are you listening to me? Where were you, man?”

You're whispering, a smile on your face. Your face is closer, and his eyes wander yet again, this time to your lips. He's still not paying attention — his Levi’s feel tighter, his heart is racing. His mind must be playing a trick on him, because your eyes are also wandering, to his lips and back up.

“I'm here.” His voice falters.

“You sure?” You don't move. Your perfume makes him dizzy, but he doesn't move either.

“I'm all ears, sweetheart.”

You chuckle, “Forget about it.”

It feels like a test. It must be, because you're resting your head against his shoulder, and going quiet again. Something different hangs in the air.

He's still gripping his arm seat. He's still not paying attention.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic

[luveline]

i lowkey need to see stripper!reader and spencer again

for you gorgeous ♡ fem

cw adult themes

Hotch and Spencer draw attention at the strip club for the same reason but in varied fonts. They're both reminiscent of your regulars, Hotch the picture of a businessman with a wife to forget and steam to blow, and Spencer the silent sweetheart, pretty but too shy to talk to normal girls. 

He doesn't need a normal girl when he has you. 

You're glad for your cover up clothes as you lean against the dressing room door. One of the bouncers peers at you from the corner of his eye. 

"Trouble?" he asks. 

"Not sure. Probably not." You wave until Agent Hotchner notices you. To your delight, he raises his hand politely. 

You step around the bouncer and bypass the stage to the lighter area of the club where they stand in wait. "Hello. I could've met you outside." 

"Would you?" Agent Hotchner asks. 

You don't need him to explain. It's not the most professional thing, loitering in a club like this. You follow them out of the club and onto the street, cold even in your sweatpants as the wind rails. Spencer lets you squeeze his fingers in greeting, but that's all. 

"It's nice to see you again, Agent Hotchner," you say honestly, giving him a smile. 

He doesn't return the pleasantry, but Spencer swears he's softer than he looks so you choose to run with it as Agent Hotchner says, "We need information on one of your patrons." 

"Tennis Lawley," Spencer adds. 

"Tennis," you repeat. "I thought my pseudonym was bad."

Spencer gives you a quick look. I'd laugh if I weren't at work, it says. "We think he's involved in a string of killings in Washington DC. What do you know about him?" 

It's not an exaggeration to say you've played therapist for Tennis and a ton of guys just like him. Being a stripper, an exotic dancer, whatever anyone wants to call it (though Spencer usually just calls it your work) has pros and cons. You've felt it to be heavier on the con side, but this is a big plus, being able to assist someone you care about with something important. It makes you feel useful for once, like you're more than the froth of the city. "Ask me anything," you say, hiding your cheek from the cold with a deft hand. 

Spencer and Agent Hotchner ask you all sorts of questions, personal to their suspect and less so, and for the most part you're able to answer them. You can tell from the look on Hotchner's face that he's both surprised and extremely satisfied by your knowing, and he emphasises his thankfulness with a touch to your upper arm before he says goodbye. "Your help is invaluable, Y/N, thank you." 

Spencer, your sweetheart, stays for a more thorough farewell. 

"Have you eaten yet today?" he asks, the hand you'd squeezed earlier leaping for yours. "You look tired." 

"It's getting close to midnight, Spence. I'm alright. You and Agent Hotchner should head home and rest yourselves…" You bring your hand to his cheek but think better of yourself, pushing your arm over his shoulder instead for a hug. His own arms contract around you immediately. "I miss you lately, where have you been?" 

"Everywhere. I miss you too," he says. Despite the months of knowing one another, and the many states he's seen you in, you know without looking that Spencer is blushing profusely. 

You kiss his cheek as your heels return to safe ground. "Come and see me again soon, okay? And bring your rich friends. The older one, Rossi, is he really a millionaire? A divorced one?" 

"Yes, he is," Spencer says with a laugh, his voice climbing higher, "but I don't think he's looking for another wife right now, sorry." 

"Maybe Agent Hotchner–" 

"Stop calling him that." 

You look Spencer straight in the eye, nearly caught off guard by how sweet and soft they meld at your touch where your hands linger in his. 

You often think that you and Spencer aren't meant to be. Your life, whether willing or unwilling, by choice or design, is entirely focused around your body, and Spencer's world revolves around his mind. You know that what you do for work isn't anything to be ashamed of, but you have the same doubts as anyone else. You know what people think of you. You wouldn't blame Spencer for thinking the same things. And you wouldn't expect him to want to be with you in any aspect that wasn't physical. 

But when he holds your hands in his like this, as though they're made of something delicate, something he wants to map every detail or by fingertip alone, you wish things were different. 

You clear your throat. "I really do miss you when you're away," you confess. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't be." Your hands miss his the millisecond you pull them away. "I guess I shouldn't keep you. Your boss will be wondering where you are." 

"Are you okay?" 

You can't even pretend it's a strange question; you're acting strange. "I'm fine, Dr. Reid. My nice new boss knows I know the feds, and all the girls are jealous of me when you guys come to visit. They think I'm on your payroll." 

Spencer quirks a puzzled frown, brows pulled together tightly. "You're harder to read than most people. Have I ever told you that?" 

"I guess it's 'cos I spend so much time pretending I'm a different person," you say, smiling to prompt him into smiling back. 

"Maybe." He pulls his bag from where it rests against his hip and opens it, rummaging through the contents with a confused murmur until he pulls out the shape he'd been looking for. "Here. Don't go to bed hungry, okay?" 

Spencer puts a protein bar in your hand. 

He steals a quick hug and leaves not long after that, crossing the dark parking lot to the mass of the dark SUV he arrives in. With one hand, you clutch the protein bar until it takes a new shape, and with the other you blow two sweet kisses, a cheesy, gaudy gesture that never fails to make your favourite special Agent blush. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[captainmera]

Was evelyn ever ALMOST caught by witch hunters?

I WROTE IT, BECAUSE DRAWING IT TAKES TOO LONG.

For some reason, I forgot I could just...... Write these little shorts with little illustrations alongside it, instead of drawing out the whole thing and it takes forever. So... here ya go! Two more little drawings beneath the cut with some text!

Roger growled through the gap amongst his ivory. He could not wrap his head around why his rival was standing there with bow and arrow, willing to.. What? Shoot him? For this woman. Barely a Christian woman, even. "What are you going to do?" Roger gestured at Caleb's homemade weaponry. "You're going to shoot me if I don't leave?" "Maybe." Caleb said, still not tensing the bow. "My brother's a real clever guy, he knows a lot about the body. Did you know that arterial bleeding is the most fatal?" "Uh-" "Looks the most accidental, too." Roger furrowed his brows. Caleb's brown eyes were void of warmth. "What are you saying?" "I'm saying I'm holding a bow. I'm saying I'm pretty good at using it. I'm saying I'm a woodsman, you're not. I'm saying that if I wanted to accidentally shoot you and hide your body, I could. And if you were discovered, it's an arrow in you, not an English pistol wound, or a knife. And nobody knows you were ever here." "...You're not serious." "You can always find out." "You're bluffing, I've never seen you use a bow and-" "Leave my property." Caleb repeated. "And if you are going to accuse my friend of witchcraft, you better have more than suggestive or spectral evidence." Roger glowered back, held his hands up in peace, and backed away. "Fine, I will." And left the way he came through the woods. Caleb waited until he couldn't see him any more, before locking the door and pulling the curtains. Roger had never liked Caleb, but before his rival took a break from witch hunting, Roger had at least had a competitors respect for the man. But respect turned to suspicion. Caleb had been acting strange for awhile... Glum and a lot more quiet. Then that woman showed up. And now the cove were against spectral evidences? Caleb had been the most frequent and outspoken about how witches found a lawful loophole by using supernatural means to get away with their crimes. As it was difficult to prove that a witch had tormented someone in their dreams, for example. And Roger agreed! Sure, Caleb was annoying, but they had both been amongst the best and the worst of hunters, being the same age only meant the two lads butted head to stay in their spot as head of a patrol. Being a witch hunter was a competitive sport, almost, it was hard to explain unless you participated. They were not friends, but Roger was sure if the roles had been reversed, Caleb would've been suspicious too and, honestly? Caleb would've tried to save Roger. It was just good sportsmanship. And this whole thing smelled wicked. Caleb turned to Evelyn. "Are you alright?" "I don't know.." She said and looked at her hands. Artemis had crawled out onto her shoulder to give her a comforting little spider hug. "My magic.. It didn't work." "What?" Caleb abandoned his bow by its place next to the backdoor. "It's not working?" "I don't- I was trying to make it work, he saw me. I'm sorry." Caleb lift her chin up. "Hey no, it's alright. Maybe.. You've just been here too long?" "No that's not it. I know it isn't." "Maybe you're ill?" She smiled up at the crease of worry on his forehead. He was trying to sound calm and proper, and she knew that tone of his. That rougher, almost demanding, serious tone. That tone he used with Philip and his friends when they were turning to him for leadership and give them orders - even if he was just as anxious as them.

His eyes flickered away, noticing that she had caught him spiralling with worries. He shook his head to get out of it and straightened his back. "Are you ill?" He repeated with a softer tone "No, I dont think so." "Not witch-ill, human-ill?" "No... I don't have any symptoms." "Hm.." Caleb thought back at when she had visited him at his job. "Oh, was it the sprig of dill tea?" Evelyn's eyes lit up. "Oh! Oh right that did taste awful!" Caleb couldn't help but break out into a soft scoff. "Well, good to know that folktale is true." "Huh?" "It's said sprig of dill keeps witches and evil away. That's why we drink it at the morrow' meeting." Evelyn's lips pressed into a line, feeling a little silly that she had so readily accepted tea from a bunch of woodsmen-slash-witch hunters. Of course they would be drinking things like that out of superstition.

"Right." She brushed her vest. Caleb snorted. "Stop it! I was afraid!" "Sorry, sorry. I'm sure it's only temporary." Evelyn looked at her hands. "You think so?" "Yeah. But.. Why don't you stay here, just in case, until it comes back. Yeah?" "Appreciated." "Of course." Evelyn swayed her skirt bashfully. "Caleb?" "Mh?" "Thank you." She pulled him in so she could plant a kiss on his cheek. "You've been my hero today." Caleb's limbs were full of pink and red butterflies. He laughed nervously and swatted his hand around in the air. "Oh! PFSH! O-Of course! I can't just- You're a maiden in distress! It's only the right thing-! Anytime, milady." And theatrically rolled his hand before bowing to her. And that got him in the right height for both of her hands to cup his face. "I think you deserve one more then." And kissed him on the side of his nose, his forehead, and when his smile spread his lips wide across his face, she kissed the dimple by his side. And that was enough. Caleb crumbled, and turned away from her with an incoherent sputtering of words. She smiled. Caleb put his face in his hands to cool, stroked them through his hair and coughed. "TEA?" He offered, gesturing at the stove. "Er- not, that tea, better tea." "Sure." And took a seat nearby him.

#toh #the owl house #ttocw #the tales of caleb wittebane #toh caleb #toh evelyn #witteclaw #wittewife #caleb x evelyn #caleb wittebane #eveyn clawthorne #ttocw drabble #ttocw short #ttocw text #ttocw art reply #cavelyn #evelyn x caleb #wittethorne

[daddy-dotcom]

Scents and Sensibility

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Summary: You see an ad for those “pheromone perfumes” and decide to test its effect on your boyfriend at work. Requested by the lovely @swaggysagiewagie

Words: 1,164

Warnings: Implied smut and maybe like 1 swear word

——————————————————

I'm normally not one to make impulse purchases, but I just couldn't resist. I always thought those pheromone perfumes were a gimmick, but as a woman of science, I decided to test one and see if it actually worked. More specifically, I wanted to see if it worked on Spencer. Normally, we keep things very tame while we're on the clock. The team knows we're a couple, but we make sure to keep the PDA to a minimum. I don't mind his lack of affection at work, especially given the fact that he's not very expressive in public either, but it wouldn't hurt to get more than a peck on the cheek every now and then while were on the job. To test the effects of my newest purchase, I applied just a bit of the perfume before walking out the door to work.

Immediately as I walked through the lobby, I began turning heads. I typically went unnoticed when I entered the lobby, but the security guards said hello to me this morning as did the men in the elevator. I made my way up to our unit and I made my way to my desk, as usual. As I passed Morgan's desk, I could instantly tell that something was out of the ordinary.

"Good morning, babygirl," he said, eyeing me up and down more than usual. He's called me beautiful, gorgeous, or even pretty several times, but babygirl was exclusively reserved for Garcia.

"....good morning?" I replied, somewhat confused, but mostly smug because I had a feeling that my new perfume was working.

JJ Prentiss were talking amongst themselves when I came over to greet them. We exchanged our typical weekend updates before Emily asked me if I was wearing a new perfume.

"It smells amazing. Is it vanilla?" JJ asked.

"I think so? To tell you the truth, I'm not actually sure. I actually bought it on a whim because it's a pheromone perfume."

"Oh come on, (Y/N), you know those are all fake right" said Emily.

"You wanted to see if it worked on Spence didn't you?" JJ asked with a grin creeping up on her face.

Just then, an angry Garcia walked up to us demanding to know why Morgan had started referring to me as "babygirl."

I proceeded to spill the beans about how I wanted to mess with Spencer and see if he would be able to keep his hands off me at work now that I've used the perfume. They agreed not to reveal my secret weapon to Spencer, but we also wanted to see if it had an effect on any of our other team members.

Almost on cue, Spencer made his way over to greet us.

"Morning everyone!" he said in his usual upbeat tone. I saw him pause for a moment when he got close to me and I could practically see his brain short-circuiting. Then, in a much softer tone with his voice dropped a few octaves, he turned to me and said "good morning my love." He leaned in to give what I assumed would be our usual daily quick peck on the lips, but he gently placed one hand on my hip and let his lips linger much longer than usual. I pulled away after a few seconds, my face beet red from the realization that Garcia, Prentiss, and JJ were still watching us.

"I'll see you in the meeting," he said, walking away with a smirk.

I could feel the other agents' eyes on me as I stood there like a lovesick teenage girl.

"Well I would say that definitely worked on him" JJ said.

"You're making it way too easy for him, (Y/N)," Prentiss added.

And she was right. I was giving in to Spencer's advances way too easily. If I wanted the full effect of the perfume, I was going to have to make him beg for it. We dispersed and made our way to the meeting room to be briefed on our case. On our way in, I brushed past Rossi, who also seemed to take notice of my new scent.

"You're looking nice today, (Y/N), got a hot date?" he joked, glancing over at Spencer. I let out a laugh before replying, "I hope so."

I took the spot between Hotch and Spencer, acting somewhat indifferent to my boyfriend’s presence to see if he would notice. As I settled into my seat, I saw Hotch do a double take out of the corner of my eye. He may not have said anything, but I could tell he wasn’t immune to the effects of my new perfume either. Garcia began her usual presentation about our new case, but I could hardly focus on anything she was saying because I could feel a hand slowly creeping up my thigh, and it definitely wasn’t Hotch’s. Still, I pretended not to notice his slender fingers toying with the hem of my skirt, even though I was consumed with thoughts of where I'd rather have them.

After what seemed like ages, Hotch finally dismissed us to prepare to board the jet. Since I was pretty much always prepared, I was the first one to board, and I noticed Spencer followed me shortly after, looking like a lost puppy dog. I was reaching up high to put my luggage up in the overhead bin, which was a task I usually asked Spencer to do for me. However, Spencer would be boarding the jet any moment now, so I decided to do it myself, an action which not-so-accidentally caused my skirt to ride up in the back. I heard familiar, converse-wearing footsteps behind me, but once again I pretended not to notice.

"(Y/N) you know you can't reach up there yourself, let me help," he said, firmly pressing his body against my backside as he stretched his arms up to assist me. I felt his hips flush against my ass and his arms moved to firmly plant themselves at my waist.

"I don't remember giving you permission to touch me, Spence," I said, not bothering to hide the grin on my face due to our position.

"Please, love, I can't help it. You smell so delicious today I don't know what's gotten into me."

He began leaving a trail of kisses from my lips down to my neck and I couldn’t help but finally give in to his requests.

“You better make it quick before the others board the jet,” I said, trying to stifle a moan.

“All I need is 5 minutes. Two if you keep those heels on.”

“Deal. But you’re not coming until I say so.”

“Anything you want, love. I just need you.”

I quickly pulled him into the bathroom of the jet, where he definitely proved that he really did need only two minutes.

“By the way, are we part of the mile high club if the plane didn’t technically leave the ground?”

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer x reader #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #mgg #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

[reverieblondie]

Nobel Blood

Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff and Smut with Plot, Penetrate sex, Tail rubbing?, Desk sex, Cream pie.

Summary: High society has never been your thing, and now your having to go to the Raven Ball...Maybe you will see a familiar face trying to conduct himself in a new landscape...

A/N: This might be completely self indulgent...but I liked it...

Word Count: 7,370 (I got carried away...)

“What about this one? What do you think?” 

Rolan appears from behind his changing screen in a new blue jacket with silver embroidery and buttons. The collar and cuffs are lined with silver. His pants are black and a bit tighter to his body than he is accustomed to. The boots he’s wearing are shining and new. Giving himself a once-over in the mirror in his room, he turns around, holding out his arms. 

“Be honest… Thoughts?”

A very bored-looking Cal is lying on Rolan's bed. He turns his head, looks at his brother, and gives him a once-over. 

“Like I told you about the four other outfits… You look fine. Please just pick one!” 

Rolan scoffs, “Cal, this is important. I have to look my best to make a good first impression. There will be a lot of important people there today. This could lead to some great opportunities.” 

Cal looks at Rolan, a bit worried, “Rolan, you are putting a lot of pressure on yourself. Just go and relax, maybe meet someone, make friends. You know, have fun!” 

Rolan rolls his eyes as he does his hair in his usual tight, twisted bun, “I’m not going to waste the opportunity to have fun!” 

Once he had finished with his hair, he adjusted his collar before turning to have Cal assess him once more. When he turned, he saw the prominent frown on Cal's face. He sighs, “Cal, you know how people look at us. This is a chance to change people's perceptions.” 

“The right people, you don't have to change their perceptions…” 

The room is quiet, and a silent understanding fills the space. The silence is cut by Lia busting through the doors of the master bedroom. Looking at them like they have lost their minds. 

“What are you two doing? Rolan, stop fussing and get going! You get invited to a ball and waste your time primping!” 

Rolan sighs as Lia dusts off his shoulders and places his invite in his jacket pocket. Pausing, she looks at his hair and starts to pull and loosen his usual style, making it softer looking with some strains to frame his face and the tips of his ears poking out a bit more, 

“What the hells Lia! My hair was fine!” 

“No, you always wear it so tight you want it looser, rugged.” 

“I’m going for cool and collect.” 

“Yeah, but ladies like a bit of ruggedness.” 

Rolan swats away her hands and starts to leave, 

“I'm not going there to get a date!”

Lia huffs at his leaving figure, “Hopeless…” 

Cal looks over at Lia, “Any chance he’s going to loosen up and have a good time tonight.”  

Lia takes a moment to ponder the question, “If the right person talks to him.”

-KAW!-

The sudden noise tries to break you from your slumber, but only briefly before you lol back to your dreams…magic hands…a soft warmth…a husky whisper…

-KAW KAW!-

The dream is ripped from you as your eyes are popped open; on pure instinct, you reach for your knife under your pillow, but as you look towards the noise, you pause. 

The Falcon blinks and tilts its head at you, curiously fidgeting and hopping closer to you. You pull your hand away from the blade and sigh at the familiar bird, “Hello, Rune. Do you have something for me?” 

Rune turns, revealing a message carrier just like you expected, “Clever bird,” 

Reaching over you, you scratch her neck while you retrieve the message from the red tube. The tube has an emblem very familiar to you: a golden long sword with vines and two golden roses by the sword's hilt. The paper is thick and white, wrapped with a red ribbon. Unwrapping it, you see the fancy script, and it clicks to you what is happening. 

“An invitation for the Raven Ball…and I'm guessing they are hoping for me to attend?” 

Rune kaws in what seems to be agreement; you nod at her. 

“Well, I guess I should head that way… she's bound to be waiting for me.” 

Walking up to the massive mansion lined with guards and littered with candles. The entryway is opened for the invited to shuffle in and out of the party. Just deep breaths, smile, and be pleasant…have grace, and don’t throw punches to the face; saying the rhyme in your head brings back fond memories, and you have to stifle a laugh breaking from your throat. One of your two companions notices you hiding a smirk; he notices everything, and it never fails to drive you crazy. 

“Nervous Darling?” Astarion smirks, his red eyes observing you as if he could read your mind. 

“Nope, are you?” You challenge. 

Astarion fakes a laugh and smiles, showing his long fangs flashing in the candlelight. “Never” 

Typical…

Walking through the entrance is like walking through time; these balls have always been the same. The host and the house may change, but the overcrowded rooms are filled with the rich and self-important. Deep breaths… keep taking deep breaths….

Arriving at the main hall of the home with Astarion and Shadowheart in tow, you pause with them as they marvel at the grand space. It truly is a beautiful event. Servers glide around the room with their pristine trays, serving fine wines to everyone; Astarion is quick to grab himself a glass as they walk past. The center of the room is filled with people clapping and turning, floating along to the music. Shadowheart keeps her green eyes scanning the dance floor; she is looking for someone in particular…it is the only reason she decided on attending this ball, along with your pleading. Moving your eyes around the space, the candles light the room brightly and make the gilded arches and decor glimmer in an almost magic shine. Knowing how these people love theatrics, they probably had wizards put on some spells for the grandeur of it all. 

Turning to your friends, you see they are entirely taken in by the atmosphere, though when Astarion meets your eyes, he plays his wonderment off as if this is nothing to him. As they continue to stroll about, you continue to fuss around with your dress, the corset's tightness starting to irritate you, and the flowing skirt and sleeves feeling like they're going to wrap around your legs and trip you. You curse under your breath as you have a small battle with the dress picked out for you. 

“Dress issues?” Astarion teases 

You roll your eyes, and you adjust the bodice up, but you find the action is in vain as your cleavage is still on full display. It's been years, and it makes sense the dress wouldn’t lay the same, but the high golden necklace always sat tight on your neck, forcing you to keep your head up, the exposedness of your chest and shoulders always made your cheeks flush, and the tight bodice lined with gold down to your hips always made your breath short. You did like the ruffled white skirt with the red front panel and the matching red sleeves that go from bust to cascade down your arms; it did look nice. But the part you constantly fidget with for comfort is the emblem at the center of your sweetheart neckline. It's that same one it's always been, a golden longsword with two golden roses…

“Just…adjusting…” you smirk back to hide your irritation. 

“These corsets are murder but do wonders for the figure at least?” Shadowheart chimes in 

Her silvery white hair contrasted beautifully with her lilac silk dress. The fabric looks like it drapes and flows effortlessly off her polling elegantly at the bottom, and as she moves, it reveals a long slit over her right leg. For a dress she picked out today, it looks like it could have been custom-made for her. She had fussed about the dress and her hair, wearing it in a different style than usual, but you assured her she looked terrific and would catch the eye of a certain soon-to-be duke…

Astarion places reassuring hands on yours and her shoulders. “Well, the dresses are definitely an improvement from the drab, caked-up with, grime outfits I had grown accustomed to seeing you in.” 

You both look at each other before looking at him unamused. “Thanks, Astarion…” you say in unison, not completely happy that he pointed out your dirty states on the journey you all met on. 

“Anytime Darlings~” 

Shadowheart’s eyes go back to the dancefloor, and you think for a moment that you see her getting on her tiptoes (despite being in heels) to look over some heads. 

“I think I might stroll around the room…see if I can find any…interesting company.”

You and Astarion look at each other, knowing what she truly means; translation: Shadowheart is going to look for Wyll. They are such an opposite duo, but they are just drawn to one another. Astarion always teases the names Shadow Princess and the Horned Prince when talking about them and their longing for each other. 

Shadowheart turns to see your smirking faces and she rolls her eyes before walking off. Good luck you silently wish for her… 

You watch as she makes her way through the crowd, a part of you wants to go with her to help navigate the space but you know she wants privacy for this and you don’t blame her. While you watch the floor a familiar sensation of red eyes and a fiendish smirk being placed in your direction makes you shudder. Looking up at him you see a very well-dressed Astarion looking like a vision in all black except for the wine-colored small jacket and gold and ruby necklaces hanging from his neck. When you asked about the jewels he just chuckled and left a quick poke on your nose, a way to irritate you and avoid your questions. He continues to stare and smile at the devious thoughts running rampant in his mind. 

“Yes?” 

Astarion looks away with a slight laugh, “Oh, nothing nothing…just curious if you were going to go look for anyone special tonight. Any fine suitors on the line for you to turn about with?” 

When asked only one person flashes in your mind, but you shake it off not wanting to get your hopes too high. He would probably find something like this a waste of time. 

“No, I’m planning a rather dull evening of just watching the grander, saying hi to familiar faces. No suitors eager for my hand. You?” 

Astarion looks around the room piercing his lips, “I might also be having a rather drab evening…nothing seems to catch my eye, which is too bad I was in the mood to make some trouble.” 

A slight laugh escapes your throat and Astarion looks at you with a raised brow, “Something funny?”

“Well, I just think you have changed a lot since a certain bear tagged along…come to think of it you just came back from the old shadow lands and are planning to go back…” 

Astrion narrows his eyes at you and you grin widely knowing he’s smitten. 

“Very clever…well, I will leave you to it, going to go find some more wine and maybe go rub elbows with some important-looking people…” 

“Play nice Astarion!” 

“No promises! Ta Ta!” 

With both your friends gone you're now alone in the ballroom and now it definitely feels like old times. Memories of your childhood flash through your mind as you watch. In your memory it's a younger you, biting her lip in disdain and fumbling with her dress, head sore with the elaborate braids that were decorated with trinkets and jewels. The biggest thing you remember? The feeling so isolated and unwelcomed by people meant to be your peers. You can recall two gentle hands placed on your shoulders as people just passed you by…

Shaking off the memories you look at the huddles of people near the walls engaged in conversations, “Well, better go say hi to mom and dad…” Gathering up your skirt and taking another deep breath you go on the prowl. 

It was overwhelming and Rolan had to stand to the side to recollect himself. It turns out that coming to socialize with people from the upper city was a lot more difficult than he initially expected. He was starting to wonder why the hell he came here. Yes, he had been formally invited but the people didn’t seem to know who he was or they were staring at him and whispering amongst themselves. Was this all a joke…was he just a thing to be stared at and mocked for the night's entertainment?

Looking down at his crimson hands and long nails…his tail twists around his leg as he balls his hands into tight fists. He shouldn’t have come here, he didn’t belong. Cal and Lia had been so excited about his invitation and were eager to help him get ready with high hopes of him growing his name to the city's lords and ladies. He had promised to make friends and get them invited to the next ball, but now that seems like a silly fantasy. 

Unraveling his tail and holding his head up, he decides to leave until a familiar figure catches his eye. Astarion? The pale elf has his red eyes on Rolan while keeping a smug smile on his face, instead of waving or greeting him; however, Rolan's thoughts trail to something, someone else. Scanning the room he’s hoping to catch the sight of a particular hero…

“If it isn't the Archmage of Ramaziths Tower, I figured you would see these parties as a waste of time.” 

Rolan's body immediately tenses and he turns around quickly, You smile for having spooked him. You watch as his shining eyes widen as they trail over you, his lips slightly parted and you think you hear his tail fall to the ground. From his reaction alone you're suddenly no longer lamenting having to wear the dress and in fact decide to stand a bit straighter. Once he realizes he’s staring he averts his gaze from your chest and neck, clearing his throat. 

“Tav, what…why?”

“What? Not happy to see me? 

“I- no…I mean I am! Well not happy, I mean I am happy but not super happy, but a surprised happy! Uh…pleasantly surprised….” 

His eyes meet yours and winces at himself, understanding how these parties can whine someone up you decide to ease the tension. Giggling at his rambling you gently punch his shoulder breaking the awkwardness threatening to set in. The force of the punch causes him to stumble and smile. 

“It’s good to see you, but I’m a little shocked. I figured these parties would be far too stuffy for such a great adventuring hero of the gate.” 

You shrug looking out to the party where you see Astrion watching you two, you give him a look of ‘what?’ and he shakes his head with a smirk and walks away. You turn back to Rolan, 

“Actually I’m pretty used to these stuffy parties.” 

Rolan’s brows furrow as he looks down at you confused, you do the same as you look up at him, and then it clicks. 

“Rolan, I’m from Baldur's Gate. I grew up having to go to these parties and having to take etiquette classes. My mother is a countess, from a long line of nobility and my father is a general for a regiment of the city's army.” 

Rolan's eyes widen as you nonchalantly explain your past, “Your… a lady from an important house of Baldur's Gate…and you were out slumming it in the wild? Wielding swords and blowing up goblin camps?” 

Thinking for a second you nod “Yeah, my dad used to take me camping and taught me how to fight. Mom wanted me to be a proper socialite but I didn't exactly fit in… Once I got older they told me I could go travel the swords coast, get the wildness out of me before finding a suitor, ya know?” 

Rolan shakes his head with a smile, “So you left all of this to adventure and ended up getting a tadpole in your head. That inevitably leads you back here…” 

“Hey, I had adventures before that! But I will say that one was my favorite.” 

Rolan smirks and looks down at you, “Because it made you a hero?” 

You look up at him, his gentle gaze and soft loose strands of hair cascading around his horns making your heart flutter, “Because I got to make friends, and meet you.”  

Rolan's face gets slightly darker as he thinks of something to say. With him tongue-tied you take the opportunity to tease him more by sticking your tongue at him. He rolls his eyes and turns away, you swear you see the tips of his ears a light hue of marron now. 

“Why are you here? And are Cal and Lia with you? I miss them and their tormenting of you.” You continued to tease. Though you see Rolan’s face slightly drop. 

“Well…I was the only one to receive an invitation and I didn’t realize I could bring anyone…I wish I would have, with them around I wouldn’t feel so…” Rolan shakes his head as if to shake away his thought, “I came here to meet people to get them interested in the tower's knowledge and to show that I am a worthy archmage. But I haven’t been able to talk to anyone “ 

Your heart sinks as you listen to Rolan, you remember having to go there alone at times…Rolan is always trying so hard for his family, it's quite honorable of him and one of the things that drew you to him. Thinking for a moment you try to think of a plan before it hits suddenly, “Rolan I can get you a formal introduction to someone who is very important and that I know would like to hear about the tower.” 

Rolan’s face lights up, “I would, I would be so grateful.” 

Smiling you wrap your arm around Rolan’s elbow, a part of you thought that he would recoil but he seems to welcome the gesture by straightening his posture and tightening up his arm. Your hand creases his bicep and it takes every part of you not to start teasing him about his surprisingly muscular form. Act like a proper socialite, for Rolan’s sake. 

As you two stroll about the floor you keep your eyes peeled. Though you do see some people staring at you and Rolan as you walk arm in arm, you figure people are just wanting to gawk at the hero and the new archmage. 

“Seems like we are popular sights tonight.” 

Rolan hums, “I think you are the popular sight, I’m probably more of the skeptical…” 

“Specktical?” 

Looking over to meet your eyes Rolan just gently squeezes your hand, “Never mind, uh, so who are we looking for?” 

“Her.” 

Pointing out your finger you lead Rolan’s eyes to a group of women fanning themselves as they scan their eyes like hawks around the room. They are all dressed immaculately and as the two of you approach they keep their eyes locked on you both. One of the women quickly whispers to a taller woman, the taller woman turns and Rolan has to hold back his gasp. 

She looks like you…well an older version but still stunning. Rolan feels his throat instantly dry and when he looks over to you with a panicked expression, he admittedly comprehends what's happening and he’s never felt so unprepared in his life. Feeling him tense you keep a soft smile and gently rub small circles on his hand, trying to ensure he’s calm when meeting your mother. 

In front of the intimidating woman (he sees where you get it now) you release yourself from his arm and give a curtsy. Rolan follows your lead and gives a bow. 

“Countess, I would like to formally introduce you to Archmage Rolan, Master of Ramaziths Tower. Rolan, this is the Countess, also known as my mother.” 

You feel your cheeks grow red, you're introducing a man to your mother…you never thought this would be happening, it’s very proper of you. Looking up at her face you see a soft smile, for her that’s practically beaming. So far so good. 

“I heard about the last master's passing…” she says casually. You and Rolan exchanged a glance before she continued “Can’t say I wasn’t fond of the news, he was always a poor representation of the tower. A bit of a cad.” 

Rolan’s jaw practically drops and you are quick to continue the conversation for him while he recollects himself, 

“Well, I will have to tell you Rolan is quite proficient in magic, self-taught and self-disciplined. He plans on studying and cataloging the tomes in the tower to then share the knowledge with the realms.” You praise 

“That's quite the honorable aspiration for a young man. I am sure everyone would be quite pleased to have access to its knowledge. I have been to your tower once before in my youth, the smell of the weave in the air and the majesty of all the books still leaves me with pleasant memories.” 

Meaning: ‘Invite me over to see the tower again because ladies do not invite themselves places’. You're not a bit surprised your mother is taking a fast liking to Rolan, he has a title, is respectable, and usually can hold his own in a conversation but today he seems to keep getting tongue-tied, we’ll chop that up to nerves. With a subtle nudge to his arm, you break him out of his daze where he can give her a proper answer. 

“Well, th-thank you. I think everyone should have access to knowledge if they want it. Also, you and Tav should join me at the tower for tea. I will have to prepare a bit but I would be delighted to have you two there.” 

Two of her ladies-in-waiting mutter something to each other earning them a prompt glare from the Countess. They quickly scurry away. 

“I would be delighted to just name the date. Plus I would love to hear about how you two met, knowing my daughter that story will be filled with twists and turns.” 

Rolan giggles and you look at your mom in shock as she openly teases you. You have never seen her be so casual with a stranger, well for her this is casual. You can’t help but feel a warmth in your chest, you never were one to crave approval from anyone but it does feel nice when your Mother seems to improve the boy you like. 

“I will have you know I handled myself with dignity and grace-“ 

“I watched her punch someone in the face for defending my kind, it was a lasting impression, a good one,” Rolan says with a laugh and causes your mother to let out a giggle -that woman never giggles!

“Well I will have to forgive her for that, sounds like that punch was well deserved.” Your mother looks at you and you see a softness in her eyes “My tough girl.” 

The moment is soft before your mother changes the subject. Ladies must keep the conversation flowing after all.  

“Now Tav, why don’t you introduce Master Rolan to your father? I’m sure he would love to meet him.” 

With a curtsy and a bow, you two make your way to find your father. 

“Never seen you so proper…” Rolan leans down to whisper in your ears, you have to fight the tingling that threatens to show on your skin. Nothing quick like his mockery so close to you. 

You take Rolan's arm so he’s leading you through the room, “Never seen you so tongue-tied…” you mock back.

“She's intimidating… I see where you get it from…” 

“You should see when she doesn’t like someone, that’s intimidating.” 

“Any warnings about your father? Or do you plan to surprise me again?” 

“Oh but you do look so cute lost for words, I didn’t know wizards had that capability.” you coo back now blatantly flirting, very unladylike. The scandal…

Feeling bold Rolan tightens his grip on your arm where you can feel his nails against your skin, it is mind-numbing this sudden game. “And I didn't know how ravishing you look in a dress so tightly wound to you.” 

The sudden boldness of his words makes you pause, and your cheeks redden. Rolan nervously clears his throat unsure if he overstepped… he brings his eyes up for a distraction and lucky for him he finds one. 

“Tav look”, Following his gesture to the dance floor you see a heartwarming sight that distracts your thrumming heart. Wyll spins around the dance floor holding Shadowheart close to his body and he leads her through the dance. They look like a vision together, everyone seems to pause and look at them as they command the space with little effort. 

It's while you're watching them you feel a warm hand wrapping around your own. Looking up to its source you see Rolans gleaming eyes on yours taking you in slowly. You swear it’s a secret spell of his to become out of breath and feel sparks when you look at him. The feeling rushes through your veins like it has since you first met him at the grove and all the moments after. Rolan's lips part gracing you with a quick view of his sharp teeth till suddenly you feel yourself being grabbed and thrown into the air.

“And! There is my wayward daughter! Our righteous hero graced us with her presents! Ha Haaa!” 

The voice is loud and booming as the large arms wrap around you forcing your body into the air before crashing you back down to your heeled feet. Your father, as bostress as ever and completely uncaring for these parties 'etiquettes’ as always. In a lot of ways, the apple did not fall from the tree. 

Taking a moment he scans over you, it's been far too long since you saw him, and from how you ramble and rave at each other it shows. Then his eyes start to scan around you till they are meeting with Rolans, and your father smiles like a Cheshire cat. 

“Ah, and I see the rumors are true. You have a gentleman escort this evening.” 

“Actually I have two others but one is dancing with the Duke's son while the other is bound to be causing trouble.” 

“Trading in for different companies.” His eyes go to Rolan and you see him tease over your father's gaze, “Now to see if this man was worth it.” 

“Well, he is a wizard…” Your eyes go to Rolan and you two are now assessing him

“Meet plenty of spellcasters,”

You continue, “Archmage of Ramiths tower…he got the areca artillery working in the battle saving my and my friends' necks. 

“The Fire Rainer!” Your father yells, making Rolan and nearby people jump.

Before Rolan can properly process what is happening your Father is grabbing his hand in a crushing grip that Rolan returns. 

“My men, We were all in awe of your work getting those dusty turrets to work. And for helping my Tav. Good man.” he continues to shake Rolan's hand for a long moment before letting go and placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“He’s good company to keep, strong grip and with fire in his eyes.” 

You look at Rolan giving him a nod of a good job before your father is turning to both of you. With a wide grin. 

“Now! Rolan, if you walk around with my daughter you must ask her for a dance!” 

Rolan stutters over his words as you look at your father like he’s lost his mind. 

“Dad, You can’t make him dance.”

“Why not? He wishes to be near you; he must dance with you.” 

The words make you flush as you avoid Rolan's eyes, “He’s not the dancing type…” 

This causes Rolan to lift a brow, then you feel Rolan’s warm hands on yours leading you suddenly towards the dance floor. In a swift flourish, Rolan spins you and grasps his hand in yours, placing the other on your hip and smirking at your shocked expression…

“Looks like he is!” your father calls barely audible through the music. 

The transition to the dance is effortless as you two glide across the floor. Watching his glimmering eyes on yours is spurring your heart into a rush. Your body feels like it’s on fire as he effortlessly glides you through turns and claps. Eyes never leaving one another. 

“I didn’t know you knew how to dance?” 

Rolan scoffs, “Of course, I know how to dance, you don’t think I haven’t gone to parties before?”

lifting a brow, you look at him with an unamused expression, “OK, I might have practiced…”

You laugh and let him spin you out, then catching your hand and pulling you back to him. His hands in yours, your back flushed to his chest. The dance is completely intertwining, his scent, his warmth, the purring of his chuckling laugh. You want more, your hope is for this dance to never end so you can stay in his arms.

With a twist and a sway of your hips, you smile at him as the blush rushes to his speckled cheeks, a reminder that you are experienced at these dances and you will not hesitate to spice up the moves if it means rubbing against him. It makes his heart thum as he turns you around again, his tail wrapping slightly around your dress as he steps with you till plunging you down to a dip.

A perfect dance partner, finally.

You two stay locked within each other's snare, a small feeling of leaning forward towards each other causing your mouth to water in anticipation of a kiss. Then breaking you two from the moment is roaring applause that fills the room. He lets you rise, and you two join the applause of the musicians as well.

A normal socialite would worry if people could tell how much you liked him. You don’t care, however, Rolan is magnificent, and you would scream it at the top of your lungs, but you know this is his chance to impress rich bastards and prove himself worthy of his new illustrious Title. Of course, the right people already know this, he doesn’t need to impress them.

As you look to the crowd to make your way to your dad to give him sass (and maybe a pat on the back for making that happen for you) you see Rolan Pointing to the front part of the dance floor, music starting to swell up again and your father and mother swaying to the song. Another set of perfectly matched dance partners. 

Offering his elbow to you again, you curtsy at Rolan's gesture and let him lead you off the floor. A perfect gentleman, If your mother is watching she is beaming with pride (though she will talk to you about that hip swaying later). Off the floor, your dry throat hits you,

“ I'm going to get a drink, do you want anything?”

“Oh I can-“

“Rolan I can grab drinks, I’m still a hero of the Gate, not a delicate flower.” You tease him.

“A glass of wine sounds great then,” 

“I will be a quick second, wait here” With that you gather your skirt and shuffle away. Both of you trying to hide your dorky grins for one another. 

Then a stray voice catches Rolan off guard, “Dancing with a noble…but don’t forget you're just hellspawn trash…” 

Roland’s eyes widen, and he turns around quickly, but he is met with nothing but a crowd of people wrapped in their own world. One that some are not willing to invite him to. He watches them so clearly, trying not to stare, others staring, and sharing whispers. Then his eyes meet yours.

Golden eyes that you can always catch in any crowd. They shine his brilliance and never fail to make your heartbeat rush. Anyone would be lucky to have him look their way and right now that’s you, drinks in hand, you pick up your speed to get to him faster, but then his starburst eyes shut in something that resembles pain and then he’s gone…Rushing out of the room away from you.

Pausing you watch him leave, your heart sinking to your stomach. Swallowing down the feeling you place the cups on the nearest waiter's tray and run after him.

The hallways are dark as you follow after him. It only gets darker and darker, till you see him dipping into a side room, shutting the door behind him. It takes a bit of self-control on your part, not to rip the door off its hinges as you open it, but the site makes you slow down.

His tail twisted tightly to his leg, hands in his hair, and talking quickly in infernal. Gently you close the door behind you, and with a click lock giving you two privacy in the dark office. Rolan's shoulders tense at the sound of the lock, he can’t bear to look and see your disappointment. You carefully approach as he braces his hands down on the desk. His body so tight you think he will snap two.

“Rolan, wh-what happened?” 

Turning his head, his golden eyes shine through the darkness. And they see you perfectly. Face contorted in worry as you gently approach. Your face is the one he knows, the one he saw shining in the sunlight of the Grove, the face that saved him from shadows in the cursed land, the one who held his bruised face so gently promising Lorroakan would never hurt him again… the hero of the gate…his hero.

Then his eyes tail down, his Tav, the hero, dressed in the finest fabrics, a lady of Noble Birth, someone too good for someone like him.

In your eyes, you see him for what he truly is, a strong dreamer, someone who you would walk through the Hells for. A man so dedicated to the ones he loves, you want to love and care for him till your last breath.

“I don’t belong here…I am a joke…a monster for everyone to gawk at.” He finally confesses. 

Your eyes grow wide and all you feel is anger, “Did someone say something to you…do something?! Who? I swear I will-“ 

Before you can, march back into the ballroom and demand reconciliation with blood, you feel warmth wrapping around your shoulders and around your ankle. Rolan's warmth envelops you in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. Clinging to his forearms you lean into him letting yourself calm.

“You're better than any of them…” you whisper

“Is that what you think?” he mutters in response

“Rolan it’s what I know, you're extraordinary.” 

Rolan’s arms tighten around you making you never want to leave his caress, but you still turn to look at him. placing a hand on his face, he’s perfect in your eyes…

“We are different…” he almost pouts

“I like our differences.” 

Rolan’s hands slip down to your waist. 

“Won’t they slander you, and your family's name?” 

“Not the people who matter to me…” your words like a promise

You lean into him rising to your toes to be only a touch away from his lips. You feel his breath fan across yours, and a rush of desire floods your body and mind.

“They will say I tainted you…” his hands caressing your face so gently

“They can go fuck themselves” 

The smile you two share is perfect, right before he presses his lips to yours. His lips caressed yours, setting your body a flame, his nails digging into the sides of your dress, and as you felt their points, you gasped and let him trail his lips sloppily on your jaw to your neck. Your mind melted at every rush of his lips, becoming more breathless as the pleasure of this moment crashed over you then pooling into an aching need in your lower stomach. All the blood and the thoughts rush to your swelling bud, leaving your mind in a haze of lust.

Rolan’s tongue licks down at your clavicle while his hands move to cup your breast. You can’t help but shake as he presses kisses and sucks marks to the tops of them. Rolan’s lips find yours again in hunger this time as his tongue seeks to taste more of you. Eargery you met his passion with your own tasting, his wine-laced tongue burning against yours. Undoing the buttons of his jacket you strip it off him in a rush. Once it’s off and tossed to the floor he breaks the kiss and whimpers against your lips, his chest vibrating under your fingertips in a purr. 

Turning you quickly, your thighs meet the side of the desk as his lips continue to caress your neck, removing your necklace to nip on your most sensitive spots, all you can do is moan and chant a series of ‘yeses’ and sweet mews of his name. He hums as he spoils himself, touching all over your form. 

“More, Rolan…I want to feel more,” your pant 

“Here?” The question is raspy and sends shivers through you to your sex. 

“Yes.” 

Rolan responds by peppering kisses all over you as he quickly gathers your skirt around your hips. Bending over you feel your face burn as you hear is breath hitch, 

“F-fuck…” he whispers 

You're already bare opting for no underwear, a destination you made on a meer whim but are happy with now. A whimper escapes him as he views you slick and puffy cunt for him, in a deep dialect he mutters something you can not understand that causes your slit to quiver. he no longer has patience his want takes control and you hear his frantic hands undoing his belt. 

The moment is eager and full of hunger, the want between you two building to this moment of passion. Rolan has your skirts gathered in a fist as he pushes his burning erection through you making your head spin. The moment is raw and hungry as he hisses from your walls so tight and soft around him, fuck, nobody told him how…soft humans were…

The feeling of the stretch is eye-watering as a lewd moan erupts from your throat, then the feeling of every ridge sliding and reshaping your velvet insides. The curve of his cock brings his sharp tip to find your sensitive spot, nudging and coating it in his burning precum, your toes curl in your heels as your vision blurs, tightening your grip on the oak desk. It's hot, intense, and the best pleasure you have ever felt. 

Rolan whimpers and moans as he pushes into your heat further. His face comes down to bury himself into your neck grunting in what sounds more like a whine. Sweat is sheening both of you now in this heated moment your only reprieve of coolness is his panting breath on your neck. Then his hand comes down to yours bracing you and he intervenes his fingers with yours before he gives a final thrust, his blazing tip now nudging on the deepest parts of you. Your slit is taut and your insides flutter against him as you get accustomed to his rigged girth. 

“Gods, you feel amazing. Practically sucking me in…” his rich voice rasps into your ear making you shudder. 

Taking a second to breathe in the scent of your sweaty neck and your cascading hair; further getting drunk off you. He rolls his hips back, and the drag of his ridges on your gummy walls is an unimaginable pleasure making you arch in a scream to your god. 

Pulling to the tip it’s only a second of emptiness before his hips are snapping back into you forcing all the air from your lungs. Continuing to thrust into you back and forth at a constant pace, you mew and grip his hand so tightly. Your arousal drips down his cock and your thighs as it's fucked out of you, desperate to coat his cock. 

“Their mighty hero…sweating and dripping for me. You're my girl…you have always been…”  

You can’t even think coherent thoughts only able to respond by arching your back further. The room is drowned in your cock drunk moans and his deep growling as your pussy continues to get ravished by him. Hot waves start to build up in your stomach leaving tingles in their wake as you approach your ecstasy. Rolan feels your trembling against his cock making him angle it in deeper. He’s right in his sentiment…you are his…as he is yours…the bond you share led to this moment of passion—the ultimate satisfaction of the want you have for each other. 

It's bliss and you rock your hips to meet his thrust, a chuckle escapes him before you feel the rough dragging being rewarded to your clit. It's warm and soft with lines of ridges dragging against you. It only dawns on you as you feel its spaded tip you realize he’s grinding his tail against your sticky sex. Both sensations make spots blur your vision as drool begins to pool in your agape mouth.  

In a silent scream, your orgasm crashes over you as all your essences coats him dripping down to fall on his boots and pooling to the floor. Rolan guides you through your high not stopping his thrust while your sex desperately grips him. A ring of creamy arousal forms where you both connect. The sight and feel of your overstimulated pussy fluttering is enough to cause his hips to still and his cock to throb shooting blissfully hot cum in thick spurts, filling you to the brim. The growl is guttural and vibrates through him as he comes down from his high.

Rolan presses his forehead to your shoulder blades as he stays within you for a moment longer letting his ridges smooth as his cock softens till finally pulling out. You can feel the mix of both releases leaking down your legs uncomfortably resisting the urge to beg him to finger it back in. 

“Wait one moment,” he says quickly with a soothing rub to your waist as you hear him digging around for his discarded jacket. 

Then very gently you feel a soft cotton cloth whipping you down to clean you. Soft ‘shhs’ and coos leave his lips and he is careful over your spet sex. He takes his time, then once you're cleaned and your dress is back down you face his back as he cleans himself, looking over his shoulder with a smile as he retucks himself. Leaning back against the desk you relish in watching him rebutton himself up so elegantly. 

His golden eyes stay on you as he gently caresses your sweaty face. Before he leaves he will snap his figures with a spell to clean you two of any lewd residue, but for now, he wants to relish your afterglow. You two stay in silent bliss and his eyes roam over your face, your fingers gently playing with the loose strains of his hair. He’s the first to speak up, 

“I want to court you properly.” 

Your eyes grow wide, and so does your smile, your heart racing, and sparks burst into your stomach. 

“If you were planning to court me, we have already messed up. You're not supposed to have sex beforehand.” 

“I don’t care; I’m not of noble blood, so I will do this my way.” there's that confidence.

Rolan pulls you in for a slow kiss that causes your heart to flip and your head to cloud in a pleasant fog. 

“Good,” you whisper 

Rolan backs up slightly and bows, causing you to giggle as he reaches for your hand. Placing your hand in his, you gently squeeze it as he brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly like a suitor would any proper lady.

#rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #rolan #rolan fanfic #holy rolan empire #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 smut #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baludr's gate 3 #rolan x tav #tav x rolan #baldurs gate rolan #baldurs gate 3 fic #Rolan fic #rolan fic #baldurs gate 3 x tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 smut #bg3 tav #tav

[astrologanize]

pick a card : what making out with you feels like for them ᡣ𐭩…

could be someone you're already seeing or your future person, whatever it is...whoever you are asking about...this is what it feels like for them (: *please take a moment to take a deep breath and choose the image you are most drawn towards*

for pile 1 ✩˚

well, hello there. while trying to channel and synthesize this spread i thought about how this pile has something very instinctive going on within the makeout sessions, there's viscera, and cillian murphy came to mind somehow?? he does have a very mars look imo so maybe that's why, but it reminded me of a gif that i believe is from peaky blinders (never seen the show but i exist on tumblr so...) that i will add (it's a lil nsfw i guess?). anyhow. when it comes to your makeouts with this person, it feels like a nice balance of release and control for them because on one hand they do feel very disarmed while making out with you but at the same time they're acting deliberately - which is why instinct is coming through...it's like having a flow of reflexive movement. i'm not seeing you two going crazy and having vigorous kisses, there is a slowness to it, there's a building of inertia. making out with you makes them feel like their life is in their hands, their free will is palpably felt, and it brings out a sort of self-discipline in them

for pile 2 ✩˚

this person looooooves making out with you, they feel like they're having a movie moment when you guys are kissing, and the connection itself is what is at the forefront when they're kissing you. this seems like someone who hasn't had great experiences with romance and making out with you imbues them with so much hope. it's like if this person had a horribly messy breakup a couple years prior, they were with someone for quite a while and it ended up turning into a nightmare that left an ugly mark and they became jaded by it. making out with you feels like a rebirth - they don't feel afraid, they feel uninhibited, their cup is wonderfully full. they are not in the slightest bit doubtful of how they feel for you and they are certain that they want this; when they kiss you it will feel like a sweet plead - please love me back. there is no ego when it comes to kissing you because they are happily willing to give their all. making out with you does help them to move on from any residual gunk they've been dealing with

for pile 3 ✩˚

what is wanting to come through strongly is that this person is the one somehow taking the lead in the makeout session because when they're making out with you they feel firm, they feel empowered, they're like 'i got this'. lol...funnily enough though, whatever it is about making out with you...they don't expect it to go the way it does and it throws them off their game. something about making out with you is new for them, there's a notable oscillation happening within them, an internal battle of hot n cold energy. the makeout session itself won't be all over the place, once you start making out you guys just keep going at a constant and indefinite pace. this person is probably used to getting what they want/doing what they want/being reckless, this person is hardened - they keep their feelings in check and like being in control. & even though they feel in control while making out with you and do like feeling as such, there's something about making out with you that wakes them up and brings out a softer side. making out with you feels like a stream of consciousness for them

for pile 4 ✩˚

this is my fun makeout sesh pile 😛

what you guys say to each other before/during making out is being highlighted so maybe there's some steamy words being exchanged, some sweet talkin' perhaps. y'alls makeout session(s) involves experimenting, it's messy, it's sloppy, there's coloring outside the lines, it's an indulgence and you guys change things up during it. it does seem like this is more casual and that this person might be hesitant to take things further. this may be someone who is really attached to their independence and/or is perpetually single so even though they're having fun with it, they are holding back and not giving their all. making out with you is going to make them try to consider and factor feelings into the equation, they may just take the leap for once

love this song for pile 4

#pick a card #romance #relationships #Spotify

[cardentist]

"yes trans mascs experience transphobia, but there's no such thing as trans mascs experiencing bigotry Specifically Related to them being men/from being related to men"

my mom, after some time sorting her feelings and sifting through trans resources, was accepting of my being a trans person. it took work, but it happened. she sought out trans media from trans people, she took initiative to inform other family members and put herself between me and them.

and she completely refused to even start the process of Maybe getting me on testosterone for 10 years, until I aged out of being covered by her health insurance and couldn't afford to do it myself.

Specifically And Entirely because she was terrified that testosterone was going to make me an angry, violent person. that it was going to, in her own word, "give me roid rage."

for years she made vague pantomimes about eventually seeing about transitioning, but That reasoning would still come up no matter how I tried to explain it to her otherwise.

I am not a particularly violent person, if maybe stubborn. but that didn't matter. what Mattered is that my mother had a preconceived notion of what testosterone does, what Masculinity Does, and that notion was an inherently negative, scary one.

and Because Of That I was denied access to resources That I Need for Years. something that has carried over into the rest of my adult life.

and I see sentiments like hers online, even and sometimes Especially in trans spaces, all the time.

this vision of men as inherently violent, of masculinity as inherently dangerous, and the onus placed in the laps of Trans Men (and often, on Trans Boys) to diminish and shrink themselves to Prove that they're non-threatening enough to be tolerated.

and it bares pointing out that this Isn't just something that affects trans men. trans Women are just as affected by this association with maleness as an inherently corrupting factor. and so to are butch women and nonbinary people presented as violent and scary.

likewise, I see Similar sentiments pushed at butches and trans mascs that it's their job to Protect other people within the queer community, that image of violence and anger filtered through a softer light designating their Use. you're Allowed to be a Scary Masculine Creature as long as you dedicate yourself to protecting the weaker frailer other (which is, you know. Sexist And Weird).

but it's like. people don't Want to think about different kinds of trans and gnc people having overlapping experiences, so instead people like to decide which Kind of people are allowed to have this experience and cut other sorts of people out of those conversations.

it's not about what a particular person's gender or presentation Is, it's how that person Is Perceived and the way that they're treated Because Of that perception. sometimes this transphobia that fears masculinity looks like a perception of scary men trying to pretend to be women, sometimes it looks like a perception of women Becoming scary men, and everything that lies in between (with combinations therein).

finding a term that is used to describe this is Useful not just for giving trans mascs a way to talk about their experiences without encroaching on other conversations about transness. but Also in giving us words to describe a specific phenomenon that Can affect All trans people (and gnc people, and genderqueer people, etc), but that is difficult for us to recognize as a shared experience because people seem to think that sharing experiences is either impossible or a bad thing.

#discourse #trans unity #queer unity #transphobia #transandrophobia #or #antimasculism #if you prefer

[gddancefloor]

-ˋ⭐‧˚⋆ Showtime Headcanons ₊｡˚ˎ˗

- caine accidentally bites pomni a LOT when trying to kiss her. he cant even kiss her so its more so an awkward nuzzle from his head up against her (which tickles pomni a bit and he loves that because it means she's happy) its never a crazy sharp bite though, just an accidental nip which leaves a mark on her skin - he tries to find a way to convince her to stay in the circus, or at least if she finds a way out, that she'll visit from time to time (if possible to break the curse of being stuck) because he can't imagine life without her at this point - he fell in love with her literally day one. pomni took a lot longer than he did, like *months*. his reason is how pretty she is but how shy she gets, how she's so easily flustered, and how she somehow could still hold herself together after the exit, thinking shes strong for that. pom loves him for his charm and attention to detail, and how kind he can be if not provoked. hes actually really loving, breaking his code since he was definitely not programmed to fall in love with a player. - Pomni gets a "pass" to sit out on the adventures or challenges and just spectate/hang out somewhere peaceful, since for Caine, this means they can sit next to each other and have more time together. but, if she ever wants to participate, he allows her. he just says she has to stay where his all seeing eyes can see her so she doesnt get hurt. - he spoils her with everything possible. maybe not escaping or regaining her memories, but he will go all out on making her the comfiest room, surprising her with a variety of polygonal red, blue, and yellow flowers he found in the game files, or making her more of the food she might've responded nicely to during the feast on her first day. Caine wants to make her life as good as possible. - he's a huge flirt. takes pomni's hand and kisses the top of it lovingly, cuddles her when he gets the chance, and sometimes even calls her his "Sweet Little Star of the Show" cuz he knows that nickname makes her feel loved. in his world, and in HIS show, she's the star, the main attraction. the one he loves the most. - Caine: "Would it be perplexing and odd if an AI and a human got married? No? Okay! EVERYONE'S INVITED!!" Pomni, blushing: "wait wha-" Caine: "COME ON DEAR! NO TIME TO WASTE!" Pomni: "WHEN WERE WE GETTING MARRIED???" - He talks especially softer to Pomni when it's just them, toning down his cheerful voice just for her because he's aware that Pomni has some issues with sensory (i hc pomni has sensory processing disorder + anxiety, not autism! js to clear up confusion) and he tries to always ask if he can hug her, but sometimes the lil guy forgets. dont blame him — he's so excited to be affectionate with her - Caine confessed on accident. "If you all need me, I'll be with my love- I MEAN... I... POMNI! YES! ...We don't speak of this." *grabs pomni as fast as possible while shes blushing and teleports off with her* i'll make more one of these days... anyways made for @pouirl and every last starving showtime fan out there love y'all

#dating headcanons #fluff headcanons #showtime #pomni x caine #caine x pomni #the amazing digital circus #headcanons #tadc #digital circus #tadc pomni #tadc caine #tadc headcanon