#(glad your back moron

[makshu]

New JSHK art ✨️

This is the art of chapter 116

(I swear I thought it was Tsukasa-)

[whizzing-fizzbee]

Guilty As Sin

Sebastian Sallow x Female Reader (MC)

Rating: Mature 18+ (explicit sex, smut, language), all characters are 18+

Summary: You’re a sinner and tonight, Sebastian Sallow is a saint.

In other words, it’s your (MC) last night at Hogwarts and you can’t help but fantasize over your best friend. Luckily, he’s happy to turn your daydreams into reality.

Notes: Takes place at the end of MC’s seventh year. (You’re MC.) Characters are 18. Obviously this was inspired by Taylor Swift’s “Guilty As Sin.”

I wrote this smutty drabble while I was ovulating. Oops. Consider yourself warned.

Read on AO3 here, or below the cut.

Sebastian Sallow was a fucking menace.

He wasn’t even in the same room as you and he was driving you mental. Hadn’t the absolute hell he put you through during your fifth year been enough?

Oh, but this was a different type of hell. This was the kind of hell that made your palms sweat and your knees want to buckle beneath you. This hell was a frustration that simmered up through your body, rising into your head until you could practically feel it pulsing in your hair.

Sebastian Sallow was also your best friend.

You hadn’t meant for that to happen. But the events of your fifth year kind of made it difficult to shake him. You watched the moron murder his own uncle and then you covered for him like an even bigger moron. As a result, the two of you formed some sort of trauma bond that nudged you even closer together, compelling you to lean on one another. He had no one else, given that he’d pushed his sister and his former best friend away. You had no one else because you didn’t want anyone else.

In time, Anne and Ominis came around and forgave him. They settled back into his life with cautious compassion but you — you had proven yourself as the one person who would never turn your back.

And because of that, Sebastian Sallow dug and twisted his way into the center of your soul, planting himself as more than a kindred spirit or a partner in crime. No, the two of you were closer than that, and it made you want to hurl yourself into the Black Lake, sinking until the bottom claimed you.

Sebastian Sallow was the reason you were so dramatic.

You kept that drama to yourself, though you had the feeling Ominis knew. In your mission to bridge the divide between him and Sebastian, you and Ominis had also grown quite close. Ominis seemed to have a quiet understanding of your internal anguish over the boy — no, the man — the two of you had in common, but he kept quiet on the subject, except to say he was glad that if anyone had to replace him as a “best friend,” he was pleased it was you.

Instead of acting on your dramatic fantasies over that 18-year-old freckled friend, you kept them bottled in the back of your mind, the lid corked tight, except on nights like this.

These were the nights you cursed Sebastian Sallow.

No one else was around, your roommates all out celebrating the completion of term. They were saying goodbye to one another, to all the other seventh years who would be departing Hogwarts for good in the morning. You’d said your farewells too, mingling and laughing with your friends at the party, reminiscing on the memories you’d crafted in the three years you spent together.

Then Sebastian Sallow ruined everything.

He found you at that party and snaked his strong, stupid arms around your waist as he stood behind you. He did that all the time but something about it sent shivers straight past your stomach, coursing through your thighs toward your ankles.

He laughed at something Garreth Weasley had said and rested his head on your shoulder, as if your body was some sort of prop meant to bear his weight. And oh, how you wanted that to be the case.

Even as Sebastian removed himself from contact with your body to bounce around the room, commanding the attention that only someone with his level of charisma could manage, your mind fixated on his fingers. They had touched your waist, your shoulders, even your hair as he twirled it around absent-mindedly while he yapped with Amit Thakkar about some book he read.

You seized that opportunity to slip away from the party, retreating down to the dungeons and into the Slytherin Common Room. You ignored the gazes of the underclassmen and slunk into the quiet sanctuary of your deserted dorm room, dark and cool.

But Sebastian Sallow made you hot.

This wasn’t the first time you’d slid into bed, your hands inching up the hem of your skirt as you thought about him. But it would be the last time you’d do it here.

You were leaving Hogwarts tomorrow, set for Hogsmeade so you could spend the summer in your shop with Penny before starting the Ministry of Magic’s Auror Training Academy in the fall. Sebastian had also been accepted to the academy, meaning you’d be enduring another year as a student alongside him.

Another year with Sebastian Sallow. At least. For all you knew, you could end up spending your entire career with him, and while there was no one else you’d rather work with, you were certain it would drive you fucking mad.

That’s why you were hesitant when Sebastian asked you to apply with him.

”C’mon, it’ll be great,” he’d said as he pleaded with you for the fifth time. “We already know we make a great team. We’ll set a high standard for the other trainees. We’ll be unstoppable.”

You knew you wanted to be an Auror. How could you not, given all of the dark wizards and magic you’d witnessed? And you were so damn proud of Sebastian for making the same choice, for wanting to right all of his past wrongdoings. So you agreed, not that you ever intended not to apply for the Auror academy, and Sebastian excitedly vowed the two of you were going to be the best Aurors to ever carry a wand.

You were stuck with Sebastian Sallow.

You groaned at the thought of another agonizing year, sitting next to him, watching him study the prose inside his stacks of books when he should be studying the curves of your body.

After all, Sebastian Sallow could read you better than any old book.

A year of crawling through caves and catacombs, of scanning spellbooks and scrolls, of dueling enemies that wouldn’t have thought twice about your deaths. Then two years of trying to keep low profiles after Sebastian’s stupid decision in the Feldcroft catacomb, trying to live like the teenagers you deserved to be. Three total years in each other’s presence, highlighted by countless nights in the Undercroft as you became each other’s confidants. Of course Sebastian could read you like teenage poetry, tracing every line as he absorbed its meaning.

That’s what you envisioned as you lay in the quiet comfort of your bed. Except he wasn’t tracing words on a page. He was tracing you.

Sebastian Sallow had turned you into a sinner.

You let out a long exhale as your fingers made contact with your core. A few simple touches from Sebastian at that party had you wound so tight, you sprinted into your dormitory so fast, you forgot to lock the door.

And as you moaned his name, visions of his fingers sinking into you, helping you relieve the ache between your legs, you didn’t even notice the visitor in your room.

Sebastian Sallow was a sinner, too.

”Let me help you.”

Your eyes shot open and you let out the most pathetic hybrid of a scream and a gasp, your hand quickly breaking contact from what lay beneath your skirt.

”Sebastian?” you managed, shame creeping across your face in the form of rosy cheeks.

”I came to check on you. You left the party so abruptly. I thought maybe something was wrong,” he said, still lurking just inside the doorway, his hands stuffed inside his pockets.

You were determinedly not looking at him, mortified by the sight you had created for him. The candlelight of the room betrayed you as it flickered across your face, revealing your shame. But it also revealed something about Sebastian.

As the light danced, you caught a glimpse of Sebastian’s form and you swallowed hard as you realized he was hard.

Your gaze fixated on the unmistakable bulge in his pants and you felt weak.

“By all means, don’t stop on my behalf,” Sebastian said, still standing much too far away for your liking. “But if you’d like some help, I’d like to be first for consideration.”

You realized you were still flat on your back, your skirt hem still hiked up above your hips, exposing your soaked panties.

You had a choice. You could spend the rest of your nights like this, victim of your own fatal fantasies, or you could indulge them with one bold move.

”Come here,” you managed, your voice husky amid your labored breaths.

Sebastian Sallow was your savior.

Sebastian moved swiftly toward you, crawling on top of you, his arms supporting his weight as he leaned down to kiss you.

”You have no idea how many times I’ve daydreamed about this,” he said in your ear.

”Oh, but I do,” you whispered back.

Sebastian pulled away slightly to smirk at you. That stupid smirk you loved to hate.

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?” he asked.

”Why didn’t you?” you retorted. He grinned. He loved it when you bantered back and forth with him.

”Just didn’t think I ever stood a chance with someone so fucking perfect,” he said, his eyes darting downward to where your blouse was begging to be unbuttoned. “But hearing the way you moaned my name just a few moments ago… I‘d never forgive myself for not taking the chance.”

”Take it,” you said, your tone much more forceful than you’d intended. Sebastian smirked again.

”Anything you say, love. Like I said, I’m here to help.”

”Then help me already,” you said through gritted teeth. You knew he’d find a way to bring this up later, to hold it over your head, but your brain was well beyond the stages of any reasoning.

Sebastian licked his lower lip as he studied your gaze one last time, seeking final confirmation despite your desperate pleas. When he seemed content by the fire in your eyes, he kissed your neck.

”Oh fuck,” you moaned, feeling fearful for your own wellbeing — if a kiss on the neck had you on the edge of insanity, what would happen when Sebastian really touched you?

You couldn’t wait to find out.

”How can I help you?” Sebastian murmured in your ear, his hands roaming from your chest down your sides to your hips.

”Anything. Everything,” you whined pitifully. “I just want you.”

You soon realized that it was not Sebastian’s wand that you felt digging into your upper thigh as his fingers worked to unbutton your blouse. His impatience, that blasted impatience you’d seen so many times, bubbled over as his fingers fumbled against the tiny buttons and he ripped them apart.

”Not like you’ll need a school uniform after today,” he noted. You couldn’t help but laugh, but his eyes roamed your body and you fell quiet. “Can I take this off?” he continued, his fingers lifting the hem of your skirt.

You nodded silently and shifted, lifting your hips slightly as he slid your skirt down past your ankles until it toppled from the edge of the bed to the floor.

Sebastian sat back to admire you. ”You are so fucking beautiful,” he hissed.

That’s when you realized Sebastian was wearing too much clothing.

You reached for his tie, tugging shamelessly on it to pull him into another kiss. He tasted like sugar quills.

You fumbled with the knot on that stupid tie and had half the mind to rip his shirt open as well, but he pulled back to chuckle at your desperation, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his own shirt, sending you into an annoyed frenzy.

”Oh, so you’ll rip my shirt but not your own,” you pointed out. Even now, at your most vulnerable, you liked to challenge him. You knew he liked it more.

”I’m the one doing you a favor here,” he murmured.

Sebastian Sallow was a fucking tease.

Once his shirt had joined your clothing on the floor, he took a moment to plant a trail of kisses from your stomach to your inner thigh. You clenched your jaw in anticipation, unsure what he planned to do next. You knew what you wanted him to do, but you were trying not to beg.

”These are pretty,” Sebastian said as he hooked his thumbs through the sides of your panties. He slid them down with such slow and deliberate intention, you considered kneeing him in the jaw. “That’s even prettier,” he said, his gaze between your legs once you were fully naked.

You stilled yourself as he eyed you, taking in your wetness. You’ve never felt more vulnerable, but he smirked as he returned his gaze to your eyes.

”Is that all because of me?” he asked.

”You know it is,” you huffed, annoyed that you had no choice but to admit it. The man had literally heard you moaning his name earlier.

You were almost certain he could hear the silent screams of desperation inside your skull. And when his tongue made contact with you, you gasped so sharply, you wondered if there was any air remaining in the room.

”Oh my-“ you cut your own statement off with a moan and you could just feel Sebastian smirking against you.

Sebastian Sallow had a tongue like a snake.

”You taste so fucking good,” he hissed and you willed him to shut the fuck up so that you could continue to feel his mouth.

Your moans grew louder until you were grinding your hips against his tongue, desperate to finish what your own fingers had started.

His tongue flattened itself and then rolled against you in patterns, causing you to cry out in ecstasy. How could you have been so fucking stupid to have starved yourself from this for so long?

And when your orgasm started, you tried to will yourself not to moan so loud, but every ounce of logic drained from your head down between your thighs, which were shaking. Sebastian’s tongue didn’t stop until you did, and even then, you could feel him tasting you until he straightened up to admire his work.

Normally, you’d have some smart remark for him. At the very least you’d call him a smug bastard. But now your head was a juxtaposition of hazy and horny you’d never experienced.

”Better?” he asked, looking quite pleased with himself.

Your eyes flickered down to his bulging pants and he immediately got the message. You caught your breath as you watched him undo his belt and kick his remaining garments off. The smooth skin and toned muscles were more than enough to pull you out of your post-orgasm haze, especially as your eyes landed on his erection. Soon, you were licking your lips in anticipation again.

”Fuck, you’re big,” you whispered. Those were probably your famous last words. No way in hell Sebastian was ever going to forget them.

”I’ll be gentle,” he said, but you frowned. You didn’t need him to be gentle. That was the last thing you wanted right now.

Sebastian couldn’t help but smirk as he understood your expression. “You’re even more alluring when you’re mad,” he said, one hand wrapped around himself. You’d never been so envious of a fucking hand.

A whimper escaped your lips and Sebastian leaned forward to kiss you. You could feel him pressing against your entrance, so close to solving all your problems.

And then, when he finally satiated you and guided himself inside you, you were certain your eyes would roll back into your head.

”You feel so fucking good,” he groaned and you could practically feel him harden even more inside of you.

“Oh god, fuck me,” you hissed.

And Sebastian Sallow obliged.

The delicious friction, the steady pace, the way Sebastian told you how fucking good you were, it all crafted a fitting build-up to the climax you knew you were in for.

Sebastian Sallow was going to make you come.

You arched your back and moaned his name as you inched closer, torn between your desperation for that blissful release and not wanting it to end. And all the while, Sebastian’s eyes bore into you with the hunger and passion you’d dreamt of.

Your cunt swallowed his cock each time it slammed into you, and the way Sebastian was clenching his jaw had you wondering how much longer he had in him. You knew you were a lost cause, your undoing due at any moment.

You bucked your hips one last time as Sebastian’s cock pounded upward, catching just that right spot, eliciting a moan so loud you were sure the Common Room below could hear you.

You came so hard you saw stars as your cunt contracted around Sebastian, who continued to pound into you so hard the bed legs scraped against the hickory wood floorboards.

The ending of your high signaled the start of his and he groaned as he spilled himself inside you, savoring one final thrust before he held himself flush against you.

The quiet inside your room crashed around you as clarity slowly creeped into your head. As Sebastian pulled away from you, you immediately found yourself missing the heat of his body.

He gazed down at you swiftly before nudging you slightly, indicating that you were taking up too much space on the bed. You rolled over onto your stomach while he laid down beside you, reaching for you to rest your head on his chest.

”Can I tell you something?” he asked.

”Mmhmm, of course.”

”I really do love you, you know.”

The warmth you thought had left you instantly returned and you propped yourself up on your elbows to smile at him.

”I really do love you, too.”

You felt sleepy against his chest as you reflected on how the events of the past three years all culminated to this, and you could not have felt more satisfied for your future.

Sebastian Sallow was a fucking saint.

[changetyre]

This may be a long shot that also may or may not be inspired by a current situation but can u do a max fic where you have just gone thru a bad breakup, he’s there to support you, gives you a hug, and says “i’ve got you. I’m not letting you go” and then it progresses to something spicy? Lil fluff lil smut yknow? I’m so glad I found your page xx

Forget about him II Max Verstappen x Reader ⓈⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: After a bad breakup you seek comfort in the arms of your best friend and he's more than happy to help you forget.

WARNINGS: **18+**, smut, innocent/vulnerable reader, breakup.

A/N: Again sorry for taking so long, slowly getting back into writing and actually enjoying it.

You stood in front of his door knocking sheepishly as tears streamed endlessly down your cheeks.

Max woke up from his spot on the couch where he'd dozed off while watching a show he'd randomly stumbled upon. He looked down at his watch confused as to who could be knocking at his door at this time of the night.

He heard another hesitant knock which finally brought him to his feet.

From the outside, you could hear shuffling inside and you felt guilty for possibly waking your best friend up knowing he needed the rest for the weekend that was coming ahead but you just simply didn't know where else to go.

Before you could let your mind spiral further Max opened the door. As soon as his eyes landed on you noticing the tears he didn't hesitate to pull you inside.

"Shatje what's wrong?" Max asked pushing the door shut before bringing you into his chest and holding you tightly.

This affection was enough to have you cry harder again in his arms remembering what had happened just a few hours ago.

"He broke up with me." You managed to say through sobs, muffled in Max's chest.

"He what? Why?" Max found it incredibly hard to comprehend how someone who had you could be so foolish and let you go.

"He met someone else." You sniffled pulling away from Max's chest letting him see the raw pain in your eyes which broke him. "He said- He said he doesn't feel the same about me anymore and-" your words were cut off by your cries. "he just doesn't love me anymore.

Your heart ached. Badly. 4 years down the drain. 4 years of building a life with someone, someone who you'd convinced yourself you would finally settle with, who you'd made sacrifices for, and who you'd pictured a life with disappearing in a few minutes.

"Oh, baby." Max brought you into his chest again. A frustrated anger coursing through his veins at how that moron could have hurt you, someone so sweet and pure.

"I didn't know where to go I'm sorry-" You cried into his chest.

"Shh I've got you." Max quickly shut down your apologies. "I'm not letting you go." Max kissed the top of your head.

Max held you for a few minutes letting you cry it out and calm down. After some time your sobs had somewhat settled and you simply held Max tightly enjoying the comfort his arms provided. You would've happily stayed there if it weren't for your feet aching from standing in the same position for so long.

"C, mon let's get you comfortable." Max wrapped his arm around your waist keeping you close to his body as he led you to his bedroom.

Max sat you down on his bed before rushing to his closet to get you some of his clothes. He also rushed to his bathroom to get you a warm towel to wipe your face.

"You're too good to me Maxie." You couldn't hold back a small smile as you saw the products he brought to you.

"It's nothing." Max shrugged it off, in reality, he simply wished he could give you the entire world because you deserved nothing less in his eyes.

"Let me help you." Max kneeled down in front of you grabbing the warm towel bringing it up to your face, gently starting to wipe at your dried tears.

Max's heart skipped a beat at the way you were looking at him, your eyes seemed tired but filled with appreciation and love. Or maybe he was just imagining it.

"You're too sweet Max. I don't how you haven't found someone yet." Your hand came up to stroke Max's cheek lovingly.

Max's hand slowed down. He simply met your eyes, the distance between you seeming so minuscule now. "I think I found her a long time ago," he replied.

A shiver ran down your spine at the way you could feel his breath on your lips. "Max I-"

You didn't have a chance to say anything before Max had closed the gap pressing his lips to yours.

You couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips at the sudden action. You were confused, it was too soon but at the same time, the warmth that flooded your body made it hard to make it stop.

"Let me help you forget baby." Max whispered as his hand came to meet your waist again but this time to push you further into the bed, centering you.

Your voice escaped you as Max set his body above you, you could only half nod as his lips came down on yours again this time harsher, desperate. You kissed back with equal fervor.

"Let me take away the pain." Max whispered again as his lips came down to your jaw starting a path. His hand gripped your waist so tightly you were convinced you'd find a bruise there tomorrow.

His other hand pushed your shirt up, finding its way under the fabric to grip at your bare skin.

"Max please-" You pleaded unsure of what you were actually asking for but the warmth pooling in your core was enough indication you needed him to do something.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt like this, this warm, this desperate for someone's hands on you, to feel someone inside you with such dire need. The thought confused you further but you would worry about it later.

"Can I touch baby?" Max asked as he nipped at your neck, you knew he was leaving marks.

"Yes, please. Please touch me." You granted him permission.

Max didn't waste more time as his hand slipped under your jeans, the fabric pressing against the back of his hands as he cupped your mound. His fingers ran up and down your slit feeling the wetness that had been produced...just for him.

His eyes darkened watching the way you squirmed in his arms, your brows furrowing at the pleasure you were starting to feel. Max's fingers explored through your folds as if wanting to gouge your reaction to every single movement he made.

"Max...Max please-" You begged again wanting him to stop teasing you.

"Shh I've got you baby." Max finally began circling at your clit earning delicious moans from you.

He teased at your bud for a few seconds before letting his finger enter and curl inside you. Your hips bucked up chasing the pleasure and Max needed better access.

Reluctantly he withdrew his hand not missing the desperate whimper that escaped your lips. He hurriedly rushed to pull your jeans off you, before doing the same to his sweatpants.

As he did he saw you rush to pull your shirt over your head leaving you in nothing but your mismatched lace set which he couldn't help but find endearing.

He loved the sight so held back from stripping you completely as he let himself fall forward and lie between your legs. "So pretty." Max reveled at the sight in front of him.

He pulled your panties aside teasing at your entrance once more with his fingers before pushing two fingers in this time.

He watched your head fall back in pleasure before he came to close his mouth over your clit.

"AGH MAX." You screamed making Max's dick harden just at the sound. Your hands came to pull at his hair, a feeling Max knew he could now never live without.

"Mhmm so good," Max confessed quickly growing addicted to your taste.

"Max I'm gonna cum." You moaned and it only spurred him on as he began flicking quickly at your clit with his tongue, his fingers matching the space twisting and curling inside you.

He swore he could've come right then and there at the sight of you shaking in his arms as you came from his actions. He would've if his desire to be inside you wasn't so big.

"So good baby," Max smirked as he came to hove over you again. His lips came down to meet yours again letting you taste yourself.

"So good." You repeated with him. You don't think your ex had ever made you feel this good.

"Can you give me another one?" Max asked you. You could feel his clothed dick press against your core.

"Yeah." You answered happily, wishing nothing more than to feel him deep inside you.

Max smiled with you, pulling his boxers off, this time pulling your own panties off as he lined himself up with you.

"Ready darling?" Max asked you, your breath already heavy imagining what was to come.

"Yeah," Your reply came out breathy, not truly sure if you were ready for his size but eager to stretch out just for him.

Max kissed you again as he began pushing in, distracting you from the initial sting. You moaned into his mouth, feeling your pussy take in every inch of him slowly. Your mind in a haze, pure bliss.

[iluvloganhowlett]

Not really a proper request but I’d love some more fluff??? Maybe winding down after a tough mission??? As much as I’d love to fuck the man I’m also a silly romantic who wants to just hold hands 😕

I’M PROUD OF YOU ⟢

in which logan’s never been exposed to affection before you, so he still is taken back when you show it.

warnings: insane fluff, softie!logan, mutant!reader

i lowkey changed the plot of the first x-men movie if you squint but ignore that. this also takes place during the time of x-men (2000) and X2, kinda in between iykwim

this is the corniest shit ever sos.. sorry to disappoint😗

if you were to ask logan what his favorite feeling was, he’d probably tell you that he doesn’t have feelings and that you’re a goddamn moron. however upon rare occasion he might cheese about how he felt when he first met you.

that day was the first time logan had felt what love was, what it could be.

—

like logan, you too were a result of an experiment that left you with claws and adamantium insides. the x-men had picked you both up at the same time, making their first mistake by leaving you alone in a room to stab each other to what would’ve been death. however the mistake was made up for when jean caught you and logan on top of the roof while trauma bonding with a side of beer.

nobody could’ve prepared logan for the day he’d meet someone so much like him. mostly because nobody knew that day would ever come.

but, damn, was he glad it did.

—

“babe!” you heard logan whine from the bedroom just on the other side of the door of the bathroom you occupied.

you smiled, “one second!” you pleaded, muffled by the toothbrush and toothpaste in your mouth. you circle the brush around your mouth once more, smiling in the mirror as you glide your tongue over your sharp fangs before spitting out the toothpaste.

upon opening the bathroom door, you wipe your mouth before throwing the hand towel somewhere in the bathroom.

the second that logan feels the bed dip beside him, his eyes flash open and a cheesy smile takes over his face.

“hi.” you smile, stroking his forearm with your thumb.

“hi,” he looks almost drunk on you, and you loved it.

you adjusted yourself to lie flat on your back, allowing logan to come snuggle on top of you. you felt his large hands wrap under your body and around your waste, pulling your bodies as close together as they could possibly go.

as you began to run your hands through logan’s soft hair, you could feel his body loosen as a long, shaky sigh escaped his mouth.

you brushed through logan’s faux ears, twisting them around your fingers to make them stand up higher.

you tilt your head, looking down at logan with pure adoration. “y’know lo,” you start, pulling logan’s hair back gently and forcing him to look you in the eyes.

he hums, urging you to continue. “you did a good job these past few days, i’m proud of you.” you smile softly, continuing to stroke his hair carefully.

oddly enough, you felt logan tense up again, but it was different this time. he wasn’t mad, or upset. it almost felt as if he was adjusting to your words; taking them in.

“what?” he asks, almost silently, looking up at you with large eyes.

you swear you could feel your heart near snap in half at how unnatural affection felt to logan. you had been through amounts of trauma and torture, too. a lot of it with logan, even if you have no remembrance of it. however the art of showing love just came easier to you than it did to logan.

you cup his face in your hands, his facial hair rough against your soft hands. “i’m proud of you, lo. i’m proud of how you handled yourself these past few days,” you reassured, gliding your thumb across his skin so slow that it almost pained him.

he only continues to stare at you, studying your face with love and tenderness.

you giggle; a sound that logan could listen to on repeat for days on end. “this is the part where you say ‘thank you, sugar. i love you.” you slide your hands past his ears and down his neck to his shoulders, holding them with a soft but firm grip. you kiss your way from his neck down to where your hands sit, leaving your head there, your chin sitting on logan’s shoulder.

“i love you, sugar. thank you.”

“close enough.”

taglist!! (like this post to be added)

@velvrei

—

[octuscle]

Fatal shortcut

You know those days. The traffic is murder. You can't go another inch. Your destination is within reach, but it will take you three green lights and at least 20 minutes to cover the last 100 meters. Bloody hell! Honk the horn? It's no use… But now carefully pull onto the green lane, then cut across the high school parking lot and you're there. Why do you have your baby, the Mercedes G-Class, after all? I put on the turn signal, the car takes the sidewalk like nothing, carefully into the parking lot, look left and right and…… BANG! Damn it, the Mustang has clearly taken my right of way. This is guaranteed to take longer than 20 minutes… The two morons in the car look like they only have their heads to wear football helmets and pour beer through their mouths. The typical stereotypical football college jock bros. The day just keeps getting better…

"Yo, Chuck! Bro, did you see what that punk did there?" "Sure, Brad! He definitely took your right of way." I try to protest. But I'm way too caught off guard when the guy, who is obviously Chuck, stands up in front of me. God knows I'm not small. I'm a well-trained, muscular six foot two. But Chuck is easily ten centimetres and at least 20 kilograms taller than me… He grabs my balls. Damn it, I want to punch him, but Brad's already got me from behind. And Brad is barely smaller than Chuck. "There you go, you little faggot!" Chuck hisses at me. "Are you lying in wait for your wankers in the parking lot again? But this time is the last time!" He spits in my face and his grip on my balls tightens. Brad turns my head in his direction and spits again. Then the two of them get into their car, put it in reverse. And disappear.

I stand there a bit like an idiot. I'm far from being small or a faggot. And the last thing Chuck and Brad were to me were wank templates. I mean, I have nothing against gays… But thanks no, not for me… I'll take a look at the damage to the car. It's no big deal, the Mustang looked worse. I get back in the car, drive the last few meters into the underground car park, throw my keys to Stephen at reception and ask him to take the car to the garage. When I get off work later, I'd like to have it done. He puts his hand to his temple and says "Sir, aye, sir". Hehehe, I don't mind hierarchies being recognized.

"You little faggot"… I can't get that phrase out of my head. Shit, I'm really unfocused today. Maybe I just need a distraction. I go to the gym during my lunch break. Somehow I feel the need to look like anything but a faggot. I train bare-chested. Dressed only in compression shorts. Not really appreciated here. But I don't care today…

Shit, I'm not in top form here either… What I normally lift without any problems is all too heavy for me today. At least it's the cross trainer… Even though I'm not really the cardio type. When I get in the shower, my cock gets hard. Shit, that's embarrassing. But I also have to say that there's really only premium meat running around here today. And I'm one of them. Definitely one of them. Even the clean-shaven guy in front sees it that way. Clear body language. It doesn't take long before I'm leaning against the shower wall. And for the first time in my life I get fucked… And how! I can hear the angels singing. It feels so good as the stallion cums in my ass. To say goodbye, he gives me a kiss and a pat on the ass. And he says loudly to one of his buddies. "What a waste for such a submissive pig to have such a magnificent cock!"

The fuck was great, but apart from that I'm really not myself today. I feel like I've been missing the last year. For the life of me, I can't remember a lot of things that happened. It's like I wasn't there. I'm glad when Stephen calls me at around 5 p.m. to tell me that my car is back. I thank him, pack up my things and go down to reception. Stephen grins at me almost insolently and says that this service is an exception and that he now has something good on me. Completely confused, I say, "I'm fine, dude" and take my car keys. But there is no black G-Class in my parking lot. There's a baby blue Mercedes SLK, in good shape, freshly polished. But it must be 15 years old. I press the key. The doors open. What the fuck?

I just want to get home, this day is a disaster. As I park the embarrassing car and walk past the concierge, Michael calls after me, "Hey, Johnny boy, can you give Mrs. Smith from 2316 a lift?" I turn red. I walk back to the concierge desk. "So what, my name is Jonathan, but it's actually Mr. Hays to you. And why would I stop on the 23rd floor when I live on the 38th. Besides, I don't know Mrs. Smith." Michael grins at me with his one-million-dollar smile. "Rough day, John, uh, Mr. Hays? You might as well ask the old lady if her drain is still acting up. And before you try to break into the wrong apartment, I understand you live in 2304." He hands me a package. I drive up to the 23rd floor. I give her the package. She asks if I can plug in the new coffee machine straight away. "Of course, mom," I say. I ask if her drain is working again. She says it would be nice if I could have another look. I ask if she has any rubber gloves. She nods. I pull the dirt out of the blocked drain. She slips me a dollar. I go to 2304, open the door. And drop onto the bed. It's right next to the door. 2304 used to be the room for the lady's maid from apartment 2312. On the one hand, I feel very much at home. But on the other hand, I should be somewhere else. Somewhere with a view of Central Park. With more space. I pull out my cell phone and start working my way through Grindr. Maybe I just need someone to take me really hard again today

That was a night of really wild dreams. Really wild dreams. But obviously everything is fine now. I feel fit. My morning wood has never been better. I stroke my chest. Didn't it used to be hairy? I'm fantasizing again. What it would be like to be a real guy. Successful, at least 1.82 m. Well, I'm not going to grow any more. But maybe that's because of some Italian roots or something. That's where I got my hairy armpits and good beard growth. Shit, I'm still hard as nails. So routine like every morning: wank, jog, shower and then off to the office. I should be there at 07:00 so that the mail is distributed and the conference tables are all set before the Masters of the Universe arrive at the office. It's 07:05 when I walk in the door. Stephen grins and just says, "Subway?" "Don't ask, bro!" I reply, rolling my eyes. I didn't really need a bachelor's degree for my job. Jogging in the morning to stay in shape is more important. At the end of the day, I usually have 15K steps and 40 floors on my fitness tracker. And that's not usually the end of it. By the time I get home, Michael usually has a number of assistance activities for me. But hey, the address on the Upper Eastside sounds impressive, which I would never normally have been able to afford as a young professional. I'll even put up with the apartment on the first floor with a view of the backyard and the job as a temporary janitor.

Of course it's embarrassing to still live with my parents. But if I wanted to afford my own place, I'd probably have to move 200 miles away from Down Town. And I want to stay here. That's important to me. Also for financial reasons. The subway tickets alone would be too expensive if I had to travel further. I mean, the little bit of scholarship… And I don't earn much in the kitchen of the cafeteria. Stephen and Michael are good friends. If I didn't have them, I wouldn't make it. But they have good contacts. Stephen in the office, Michael at home. They always know someone who needs a massage with a happy ending. Or a greedy college boy face for a blowjob. The men are usually well-groomed. Too well-groomed, actually. That's why I always look forward to my part-time job as a trainer at the high school gym. If I'm lucky, I get to meet Brad and Chuck. I mean, they're not gay or anything. We never make eye contact. But I still get to blow them sometimes. Even though, of course, it's pathetic when you're a sophomore in college sucking high school seniors. But fuck, you won't find cheesier dicks with a more pronounced scent of musk and sweat anywhere!

Yo, have I even dropped my name yet? It's Janusz, 19 years young and repping as an exchange student up in the Big Apple. Just call me Jonny, keep it chill. Hailing straight outta a tiny village near Krakow, Poland, in case that detail tickles your pickle. Still wrapping my head around this English gig… But let me tell ya, my French game is on point, or so the bros claim. Thrilled to be out of the parental crib and living it up in this wild city. Dang, the possibilities here are endless! Senior year vibes, you know what I'm saying? And now that I joined the wrestling squad, it's like BOOM! More close body action in a week than I got in a year with the 'rents around! Truth bomb: I make most of my cash tagging along with my wingmen Brad and Chuck, the school heartthrobs. I'm like their trusty sidekick. It's lit! Hoping to snag an athletic scholarship next year, fingers crossed. Sure, these two golden boys ain't wrestlers (legends in the bedroom, though), but football studs. It'd be epic if we could keep the bromance alive in college. Purely platonic, of course. Or not… 🤷‍♂️

[becsabillion4]

false god (we still worship)

pairing: carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary: Carmen has a bad shift, but you’re more than willing to turn his night around and show him exactly how good he is.

word count: 3,362

tags: SMUT, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, creampie, semi-public sex, window sex, lingerie, praise kink, vulnerable Carmy, 18+ only

note: this is explicit 18+ only and yet again NOT an advert for safe sex. with that said, it’s fucking hot ;) and thank you to the wonderful person who submitted the prompt that inspired this, based around Carmy having a tough day and reader taking care of him (even though I’ve failed at tumblr and can’t find the original message). enjoy!!

thesydkid

Yo. Awful shift. Glad you weren’t here to see it.

whochefsouschef

fuckkk what happened?

thesydkid

Newbies think they know better than Tina because they went to CIA. You can imagine how Carmy took that.

whochefsouschef

was it kyle? he’s been like that since he started.

thesydkid

Yeah

Classic

whochefsouschef

syd?

I know that’s not all. kyle doesn’t warrant a text warning

thesydkid

Carm got food sent back.

whochefsouschef

shit.

thanks for the heads up

thesydkid

Good luck, cya tomorrow.

—------------------------------

It’s late, the kind of late where even the drunks winding through the streets have stopped their singing, the kind where it’s already too late to go to bed and get an ounce of good sleep. It’s the kind of late where you would have known it was a bad night even if Sydney hadn’t texted you first, because you know how hard Carmy cleans when he’s upset, and exactly how long that takes.

You sit up in bed abruptly, pushing your hair out of your face and considering your options. You have maybe ten minutes if Sydney texted you as soon as Carmy left, ten minutes to decide how you want to handle this kind of bad day. You feel a surge of frustration that you weren’t on shift tonight. As the Front of House Manager, you could have soothed the moronic, greedy, power-tripping customer who wanted to pull one over on the best chef in Chicago by sending back his perfect food-

Actually, maybe it was for the best you weren’t on shift tonight, or you might no longer have a job.

You smile when you think about how Richie will have handled it though. His courteous, collected energy even as he probably said something like, “Oh, you’d like to send this back? Wow, I’ve never heard a, uh - what do you call ‘em - oh, complaint before. Are you sure you know what this dish is?”

The smile fades when you think about Carmy’s reaction. You push yourself out of bed, decided by the image of his frustration, the anger he uses to hide his sadness. There’s been a few particularly bad shifts since you and Carmy moved in together - and Richie labelled himself as “matchmaker to the stars” for hiring you - and you know that if left to his own devices, Carmy will happily stay up all night stewing.

But you’re here now, and you’re determined not to let him. So you set your plan in motion.

By the time you hear his keys clink in the lock, you’re settled by the sofa, bare skin slightly chilled by the evening air coming in from the cracked window. You glance up as Carmy walks in, catch his eye, and he stops dead, hand still on the lock.

Bluer-than-blue eyes flicker across the scene you’re presenting for him - your best lingerie, your patient kneel, steady eyes - and he straightens from his tired stoop.

“Hey,” he murmurs, eyes still tracing how the lace drapes across your skin in the low light.

“Hi,” you smile. “Join me?”

Without looking away from you, Carmy shuts the door, drops his stuff in a careless pile. “Syd texted?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And I wanted to surprise you.”

Carmy’s eyes drift away from you for a second, glancing around the room, like he does when he’s thinking something through. You can almost hear his brain clicking through the gears. Turning the kitchen off, turning something else on.

“It was bad, sweetheart,” he says. “Fuckin’ shitty.”

“It’s over.” You raise a hand to him, tilt your head towards the sofa. “Get over here and let me do filthy things to you to make up for it.”

He laughs at that, toes off his shoes and takes the few steps to the sofa. He doesn’t sink into the cushions like you expected though, but kneels in front of you. You reach out, run a hand over the side of his face, feel the days-old stubble rasping under your touch. Bringing your other hand up, you cup his face, thumbs tracing over the bags under his eyes like you can smooth them out with that simple touch. You can feel his exhaustion in the way he leans forward into the feeling, and it breaks something in you.

When you kiss him, you intend for it to be careful and slow. Bring him out of his shell, remind him that things outside The Bear exist. But the moment your mouths press together, the moment you nip the edge of his bottom lip, the drained and defeated Carmy is gone.

He surges forward, almost sending you tipping over backwards, arms wrapping around your waist. One hand slides to your lower back, stretching to cover as much of your skin as he can possibly grasp. Pulling you forward, Carmy bows his head to suck a bruise into your throat and you know for damn sure it’ll be visible tomorrow. A glaring mark, a “fuck you” to the rest of the world painted on your skin.

Your hands are far from idle either, and as one pulls at his T-shirt, rucking it up to explore the muscles beneath, you run a finger from the other over the arch of his ear. Carmy shudders in a broad, full-body motion and his hips stutter, jerk forward into you. You both moan at the contact and you want to chase it, feel him pressed between your thighs, but clearly Carmy has other ideas.

He reaches under your arms and pulls you up to stand with him, letting his hands continue their journey down your sides to reach your waist. All you have time to do is gasp as he hoists you off your feet, and he’s already walking towards your floor-length window as you desperately try to wrap your legs around his waist. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe, the hand not holding you up pushing deep into your hair and curling strands around his fingers so he can pull your head back, press more kisses to the hollow of your throat.

For a dizzying moment, you can see the lights of Chicago upside down, but you manage to pull your head up just before your back hits the cold glass. You hiss at the chill against your bared skin and Carmy runs a hot palm around to your back in apology even as his tongue continues its insistent sweeps against your own.

You barely register the soft clink of his belt, the push and rustle of fabric between you until his cock is pressed close, the only thing keeping it from filling you your own stupid lacy underwear.

With a frustrated groan, Carmy gently lowers you until your feet sink into the carpet, but he still gives you no room to move, pressing you into the misted-up glass as if he can’t tear his body from yours.

“Carmy,” you pant, unsure what you’re asking, but you know he understands when he grabs your upper arm, spins you around to face the view. The glass is warmer now, but still cold enough that the press of your barely-concealed nipples to its surface makes you moan as you hear Carmy kneel, feel him sliding your panties down your legs.

He doesn’t even let them reach your ankles before he’s up again, kissing his way along your spine as he goes, and finally, finally, the head of his cock nestles in where it needs to be.

Its hot and heavy presence has you pushing your hips back, wanting to feel the glorious slide of him, lose yourself in the moment he splits you, and all you can see, eyes half-slitted in pleasure, are the glittering lights of the city below. You live pretty high up and the lights are low enough that none of the busy pedestrians below should see, but all it would really take is a glance up and an observant eye. To see your breasts pressed against the glass, Carmy’s possessive hands gripping your hips as he finally drives into you. Even from this distance, you imagine the pleasure on your own face and your walls flutter around Carmy until he growls, pulls your hands from where they were flat against the window into a bind behind you.

There is nothing kind and gentle about this moment, no give in Carmy’s body as he fucks into you, and you revel in it. Let him take his pain and translate it into pleasure through your body. Let him take and take and take until he has nothing left to give, and let the world see him doing it. Let them see what’s his.

These thoughts alone have you teetering, desperate for a few more strokes, but the surprise of Carmy reaching around to draw lazy circles over your clit as he snarls, “Fucking look at you, look how good you take me,” has you seizing up instantly. You can faintly hear your own surprised cry through the buzzing in your ears, and Carmy’s gasps as he feels you pulsate around him, but you only fully come back to yourself when you press your forehead against the blessedly cool glass.

The strength of your orgasm is enough that your legs are visibly shaking now, and without a word, Carmy bends to scoop up your lower half and pulls you in, cradling you across his front. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm your breathing as you push your face into his chest, but before you can even begin to get your head straight, you feel soft sheets on your back as he lowers you to the bed.

He sinks down beside you, and all his desperation from a moment ago is gone as his body finally relaxes. He’s still hard and straining towards you, but the light has dimmed in his eyes, so when you reach for him, it’s to run a hand across his cheek, to bring his eyes to yours. When you move towards him, it’s to curl your legs with his, to press your forehead against his and settle his breathing with your own.

People think Carmy is so used to taking shit that it doesn’t hurt him anymore, but you know. You know how each word drives so deep that he doesn’t know how to take good anymore, how he invites the anger and the aggression of a kitchen into his soul because the alternative is realising that all the shit he’s been through is too awful, too devastating to reconcile. To keep feeling it, so he has no time to wonder what his life would be without it.

You see the weakness and the fear and the vulnerability, and you know how he absorbs the feeling and translates it into his work, how he uses it to fuel him, how he turns the criticism and the insults and the hatred into being better, being perfect, doing a good job.

“You are so wonderful, Carmy,” you murmur, and when he tries to look away, you hold his head still. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing. Shit, not really anything.” You’re silent, and he sighs as he caves under the pressure of your gaze. “Back when I was in New York, you remember that chef I told you about?”

You nod, because you know you can’t say anything remotely okay about that particular chef.

“He had this thing, about pasta. Thought he was some kind of expert because he spent, like, three months with Massimo Bottura. We had to boil water from cold every time, for every single batch of pasta we served, and there was this exact amount of salt we had to add. It wasn’t like a teaspoon, it was seven point three grams for every hundred of pasta. And he could fucking tell if you were off, he barely had to taste it. One time I saw him smell somebody’s pasta and tell them they were off by point two.” Carmy’s voice is shaking, and you move your thumb along his cheekbone slowly, calmly, giving him something to root himself to. Remind him he’s not there.

“And I was thinking about it while I was cooking the bucatini, and it’s like he was in the room again, saying the same shit he always did. Watching over my shoulder as I added the salt, and it made me so mad,” Carmy mutters, breaths coming in pants now. “And I didn’t even think, I just added like way too much salt. Enough to fuckin’ ruin it, ‘cos I just wanted to see him choke on it. And then I sent it out.”

You don’t take your eyes from his face as you curl one hand down to straighten the fingers of his, to stop the nails he’s digging deep into his palm from cutting into his skin.

“And of course it got sent back, and Richie apologised and comped their bill, and they didn’t care. But, like, I just sabotaged my own restaurant. My own reputation, becuase I can’t stop fuckin’ thinking about salting pasta,” Carmy finishes in a rush, and he finally meets your eyes.

“Carmy, you’re working in a kitchen every day. It’s no surprise you remember other kitchens you’ve been in, and the kind of behaviour you’ve had to endure. But it’s not that kitchen anymore. This is your kitchen we’re talking about, your space. When you look over your shoulder, he’s not there anymore. Syd is, and she’s got your back. We’re not some pristine, sterile team with no heart. Richie’s there.” You feel a surge of emotion so strong for the brilliant, vulnerable man in front of you that you push your face into his shoulder, hard enough that he has to steady himself from falling back onto the bed. His other hand comes up to card loosely through your hair, and you suppress a soft noise of comfort to finish with, “I’m there.”

“I know, baby,” he responds, pulling you closer until you’re practically curled into his lap. “And I think it’ll get easier, it’s already easier. I just don’t think I’ll ever entirely stop sabotaging myself. I’m not like the food I make, I’m not composed and-and, perfect. I’m not, uh, not always good at stuff.”

“Okay, but you’re good plenty of the time,” you whisper, looking up at him. You smile as he glances down, catches your eye. “I could go on for days about the stuff you’re good at.”

“Oh yeah?” Carmy murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, down and round the edge of your face to the shell of your ear. You shiver instinctively, press into the feeling.

“You’re good at that. Good at getting me out of control,” and your voice is already shaking.

“You’re not out of control, babe. I’ve got you. You’re mine,” Carmy is muttering inbetween kisses as he rolls you onto your back, pins your arms to your sides with his legs and begins to fully slide off your lingerie, slowly, carefully. His hands are, as always, steady. You remember all the times you’ve watched him roll a cigarette, piece together edible art as flames lick at his chef’s whites, and you can’t remember a time you’ve seen them shake.

From the eye of the storm he’s creating in you, you watch as he slides down the bed, skimming his lips across your trembling thighs until he sits back, and moves his hands to your knees.

You can almost feel the pleasure it gives him as, at the lightest touch from him, you part your legs, let him see what he does to you. What he has done. When he growls, you realise he can see remnants of your earlier escapade against the window at your entrance, his come marking you.

When Carmy dips his finger inside you, your hips jerk towards him, but he holds them down with one hand. His finger delves deep for a moment, and then leaves you suddenly, but before you can protest, he brings his hand to your face, offers you the digit. You’re entranced by the silent command in his eyes, and with no hesitation, you open your mouth and let Carmy’s come-covered finger slide inside, press deep towards the back of your throat. When you swallow, the bitterness makes you moan, envision being on your knees for Carmy, his fingers twined so deep into your hair it hurts, feeling his white-hot heat at the back of your throat.

It breaks whatever tension was stretched taut between you, and Carmy wraps his arms around your legs, pulls your body towards him and lowers his face between your thighs. For a moment, he teases you, nibbling at the juncture where your leg curves into your hip, skimming his teeth across the bone, but you know he’s secretly just as impatient as you are, and when he takes his first tender lick across your clit, he moans even louder than you do.

Giving head is an art for Carmy, and feels like a privilege to you. You’ve seen him enjoy food in the kitchen, give somebody that blown-away glance that they’ve worked their whole lives to see, but he never takes more than one bite.

But this, with you, as you watch him devour you whole...It’s the only meal you’ve ever watched him finish.

Tongue swirling delicately across your center, breaking for hungry kisses to your thighs as his hands grasp at any inch of you he can reach, you can’t help the words that spill from you, “yes, yes, Carmy, you’re so good, you make me feel so good, my good boy, please-“, but you can’t continue as he slides two fingers deep inside your aching pussy, so deep you don’t ever want him to move.

At this point in the erotic novels you read during your lunch break (which, if Fak were to find them, would spell the end of your career), the heroine says something about how it feels like hours pass with her lover between her legs. But this is real life, and all Carmy has to do is mutter, “Finish for me baby, finish for me,” for you to come embarrassingly quickly.

You’re practically incoherent on the comedown, and all you can summon the strength to do is pull him into you, press kisses to his forehead and mumble over and over how fucking amazing he makes you feel.

“If you lose everything else, Carmy, if you ever think there isn’t a thing in this world you’re any good at, just know that you are a god at giving head,” you pant eventually, and when he pushes his face into your neck, you can feel his smile there.

For a moment more, you just enjoy the press of his body against yours, revel in the sweat and slick between you. It dawns on you slowly just how slick it feels, and you gasp as you realise-

“Carmy, did you-?”

Carmy laughs into your skin, tracing one hand across your chest idly until you shiver. “Yeah. You, uh, you were moaning and telling me how good I was and…it was hot.”

You laugh with him breathlessly, still kind of in awe at how well you fit after all this time, how at home you feel with him. “Well, I hope that made your bad day a little better.”

Carmy is silent for a second before he murmurs, “You have no idea what you do for me,” and you can see the shine of his eyes in the glitter of the city lights filtering through your window. “There can never be a bad day if I end it right here, in this bed, in your arms.”

You would reply, but he’s kissing you into silence before you can, and you wonder for a moment if any words will ever need to be said between you and Carmy again, or whether you can communicate all the fear, all the anger, all the love, just with kisses and touch and his lips against yours. But eventually, as you slip into sleep with his body twined around yours, you decide that tongues were made for more than just talking.

[atinyrasberry]

Hey hey! A few ideas for a oneshot with some of our mha boys with fem reader ♡

Todoroki's first crush. He's such an adorable dense sweetie I can't even 😚 while he's never been in a situation like this, I still feel like he'd be upfront with her about him feeling 'weird inside' and she'd basically have to tell him what love is

The manliest man, Kiri! Maybe helping him dye his hair with confessions?

Bakugo realizing he's in love with reader and not knowing how to deal with it. Kiri being best wingman ♡

THIS IS CUTE OK LET ME COOK‼️‼️ Kirishima does not get enough appreciation, so writing this made me really happy :). THANK YOU FIR REQUESTING, AND FEEL FREE TO ASK AGAIN, I LOVE YOU ANON!!

The room looked like a murder scene. Red dye was everywhere, splattered on the sink and bathroom tiles. Kirishima sat in between your legs on the bathroom floor, with you sitting on the tub putting the dye in his hair. You both forgot to use a dye brush, which resulted in you having to use your fingers. Massaging his scalp, you made sure the dye was applied evenly (maybe you just wanted to play with his hair 🤭). Kirishima sighed at the feeling of your hands running through his hair, leaning back into you and letting you take control.

"This is nice," He comments, reveling in your warm touch and soft humming. "I'm so glad I asked you for help, I could've never done this by myself," Kirishima chuckled.

"It's no problem, I enjoy moments like this, it relaxes me," You replied, making his heart skip a beat. You've always had a crush on Kirishima, so you jumped at the chance for alone time with him when he needed help with his hair.

Once you finished putting in the dye, you waited for a while, chatting on the bathroom floor and enjoying each others company. Once the dye was ready to wash, you put his head over the tub and helped him get it out. Drying his hair off with a towel, you realized how attractive he looked. Damp hair framing his face, a cute smile forming, staring at you with adoration. He loved that you were so focused on helping him out, his eyes moving to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

You paused. What did he just say? He wants to kiss you??

"W- wait, what!? You want to kiss me?" you exclaimed in suprise.

"Yeah, you look so pretty focused on me. I just can't help but to want to kiss your pretty lips." He murmured, "I've liked you for a long time, but I haven't been manly enough to tell you, so I assumed was my best chance," Laughing nervously, Kirishima averts his eyes from you.

You grabbed his chin, forcing him to look back at you, and pressed your lips against his. Widening his eyes in shock, Kirishima lets out a little squeak in suprise. He eventually melts into you, bringing you closer to him and cupping your cheek.

"I really like you," He whispered, foreheads touching eachother, "and I want to be your boyfriend, if that's alright with you,"

"Of course it is," You replied, "I wouldn't be sitting here at 3 in the morning dying your hair if I didn't like you back, you moron," You joked, flicking his forehead.

Kirishima smiled, bringing you in for another kiss. He was positive that he was the luckiest man alive.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

This isn't really an ask—I just wanted to say that I saw your "women don't have to wear makeup" post back when I was a teenager, and it was important to me. Sincerely, I'm glad that I came across it when I did. Great post. I'm sorry you had to suffer the morons in the reblogs 🫠

hey man no worries, if even one person got something positive out of that post it's worth all the clowns :)

[eddiesxangel]

would LOVE a follow up to the brother’s best friend eddie fic where adam finds out they hooked up and just kinda loses it. maybe some angst with a happy ending if you do? i love the fic and thought all the details and feelings were perfect!

I'm so glad you enjoyed the first part! I hope this is up to your expectations. 🤗

cw: Allusions to smut, Mentions of depression, angst with a fluffy ending.

Tag list from part 1: @lofaewrites @lavendermunson @imyourdaninow@itsfreakingbats @allthingsjoeq

Wc: 2k

Read Part 1 here

What Adam Doesn’t Know | Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Ten days. It has been ten days since you slept with Eddie, and you haven't heard a word from him since he kissed you goodbye that next morning. He confessed to having feelings, so why is he treating you like a one-night stand? He hasn't taken any further steps since he fucked you. The situation left you feeling angry, frustrated and used. You wanted to talk to him, but you'll be damned if you were the one to reach out first. Sure, you were stubborn, but you also loved him. So you waited to give him another chance.

Eddie thought things would be okay after he got you out of your system. He just needed to scratch the itch that was you. Wrong.

Eddie was even more obsessed with you and didn’t know what to do about it. He knew Adam would be so not okay with this. He has already expressed his disdain about Eddie pursuing you.

Adam and Eddie have been through a lot together. Adam supported Eddie through family struggles and being held back in high school. Adam has always been there for Eddie, no matter what. The guilt is eating away at him...if he's hiding the fact that he slept with you and has developed feelings for you? He was screwed.

You were browsing the junk food aisle at the grocery store. Try to pick up your favourites to help you wallow in self-pity and eat your feelings. Just as you were to reach for the Doritos, you heard your name.

“Tink,” you look over your shoulder.

“Oh. Hi Eddie,” you turn back to face the aisle.

“Tink, please; I’m sorry”

“No, I get it. I’m just another notch on your belt.”

“No. You are the last thing from that, and you know it.”

“Do I, Eddie?”

“Ugh, I know! I know I screwed up. But let me explain? Please?”

“You have five minutes.”

“I’m sorry, Tink. I’m not avoiding you on purpose… it’s just that Adam had said something, and I didn’t want to keep this from him, but I didn’t know what you wanted to do... We didn't get to talk much.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that you and I were never going to happen. That he thinks it’s ridiculous.”

“So what, you believe him?”

“What? No!”

“So what, Eddie? Adam is a moron.”

“And so am I for not calling you. Please let me make it up to you. I want to take you on a date.”

“A date?” Your heart betrayed you by fluttering.

“Yes, a real all-American date. I’ll pick you up; I’ll bring you flowers. I can take you to dinner, then I’ll take you to the movies where we can suck face, and you let me feel you up in the back of the theatre. The whole shebang”

This made you giggle.

“What do you say?”

“Okay, Eddie,” you smiled.

It was late morning, and you were waking up in Eddie's bed. It's been three weeks since you ran into him in the grocery store. You were officially dating' you were Eddie's girl, and I couldn't be any happier.

You weren’t dating secretly because Robin and Nancy knew about the relationship, but you weren’t telling Adam... yet.

"Morning baby," Eddie's gravelly morning voice sent a shiver down your spine. You were both naked under the covers. Eddie's morning wood was pressed up against your outer thigh as you lay on your back.

"Morning," you reply, still sleepy.

"You cold?" Eddie saw the goosebumps pepper your skin.

"mmm hmmm"

"Well, let me fix that," he smirked.

Eddie had you on all fours, screaming his name over and over as he fucked you from behind. He was so deep inside you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He had you so cockdrunk you couldn't form any thoughts. In your opinion, it was one of the best times you've had, but any time you have sex with Eddie, it seems to top that last.

As you flop down on the bed, all blissed out from your orgasm and your limbs feeling like jelly, Eddie gets up to get a damp cloth to clean you up.

You watched as Eddie pulled on his sweatpants and walked out of the room.

Eddie unexpectedly saw Adam sitting on his couch watching TV as he exited his bedroom.

"What the hell?! Shit man, you scared me.” Eddie chuckled uncomfortably. God, he hoped you stayed in the room.

“So this the same chick you keep blowing me off for?” He motioned to the bedroom, obviously hearing everything.

“W-what are you doing here?”

“We were jamming.”

“Shit, oh god, dude i'm sorry, I lost track of the time-”

“I can’t be too mad; she sounded like a really good time.” He winked.

“Adam.”

"What?! You really fucked her brains out. She was all, oh my god, Eddie, you're the best. You're the biggest I've ever had," he said in a high-pitched tone.

You swore you heard Eddie speaking but didn't hear the phone ring?

“Baby, what’s taking so long? I miss you.” You walk out of the room not bothering to put on anything. “Ahhhhhhhhh!” You run back screaming into the bedroom when you see your bother.

“DUDE WHAT THE FUCK”

“Man, I can explain.”

“YOURE FUCKING MY SISTER”

“Well yea but it’s not like that… I like her dude”

“How long.”

“What”

“How long have you been going behind my back”

“Look we were going to tell you”

You bravely walk back out with a shirt and pants on this time

“Adam, calm down, please.” You beg as you intertwine your fingers with Eddie. He needs your support.

“Calm down?!”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been going behind my back, Ed?”

“The first time was a month ago.” You spoke up.

“How did this even happen?”

I found her crying walking home in the rain; she needed a place to stay...”

“Oh well, isn't that romantic... NOT”

“Adam, you seriously need to chill the fuck out,” you ask.

“Fuck you.” Adam directed back to you.

“Hey!” Eddie got defensive.

“You don’t get to be mad right now.” Adam pointed out.

“You’re being so unfair, Adam.” you spoke.

“Unfair? I’ll give you unfair. Eddie you have to choose right now. It’s me or her.”

“What !?” You cried.

“Come on, man...” Eddie begged.

“No, dude. You can’t have us both. It’s either me or her.”

You can't believe your brother. He is being so childish. Can't he see the good in the situation?

“Tink I…” Eddie's voice shook.

“No... I get it. You can’t ever choose me over him.” You tried so hard not to let your voice crack.

Oh, how you wished you were a kid again to wallop Adam.

“You take everything nice thing I have and ruin it. You did that with my stuff and my toys. And now you’re doing it with my real life, and it’s fucked up, Adam. Be lucky that I don’t tell Mom and Dad.”

“They can’t do anything. I’m an adult.”

“Then start acting like one and not some kid who got his truck stolen on the playground.” With that, you slammed the door behind you.

It has been two weeks since you left Eddie's apartment. You have yet to speak to either Eddie or Adam since then. Unfortunately, you both had to go home for Reading week, and your only option for a ride home was with Adam. It was a very silent hour-long car ride as Adam drove home the both of you. You refused to speak to him.

You didn't even know why you respected Adam's wishes; he couldn't tell you what to do! But then again, they were Eddie's wishes as well.

You hugged your mom and dad hello and went to your old bedroom. There, you stayed for the night, not coming down to eat or socialize. Your mother was worried. She knew something was wrong.

“Honey. Is there anything you want to talk about?” She opened the door the next morning.

“Yea. You birthed the spawn of Satan.”

“So this is about your brother...” she sighed. She must be really tired of having to be in the middle of you two fighting all the time. “What happened?”

You can no longer hold in your feelings. The only people who know are Robin and Nancy because you broke down when you returned to your apartment.

“I finally had Eddie! Like he actually likes me back, Mom!” It was no secret to your family that you’ve been obsessed with Eddie Munson your whole life. “He likes me, and Adam made him choose between me and him! So obviously, he chooses Adam!" Now you’re sobbing.

“What? Why would he do that?”

“Because he has to take everything good in my life and ruin it. It’s been that way ever since we were kids.”

“Honey…”

“You know it’s true. So now I’m heartbroken because I got to experience what it was like to be with him, and it was ripped out from under me.” She sighed again as she stroked your hair.

“I’m going to have your father speak to him.”

“Like that will do anything.” You mumble.

The next day, you decide you need to leave your room.

You’re in what you call your depression outfit. A hoodie, actually, it’s Eddie’s, sweatpants, matched with your throw blanket wrapped around you.

You plant yourself on the couch for the rest of the day. Most of your spring break consisted of being depressed and moving from the couch to your bed. Were you being dramatic? Yes, but you needed to prove a point. You needed Adam to see how his selfishness affected you.

"You really still not speaking to me?" Adam finally breaks the silence on your way back to school.

You don't even look in his direction.

"Come on, Tink! This is ridiculous!"

"No! You are ridiculous. You may have your best friend choose between you and his girlfriend.

"Girlfriend?!"

Yea, Adam. We were together. Like together, together. We weren't just fucking behind your back."

"I- I didn't-"

"You wouldn't have because you didn't, let's explain. You made it the Adam special. Like you always do. Newsflash, not everything is about you."

"Well, it freaked me out! I didn't want to lose him to you."

"How could you lose him to me? If anything, you would see more of me, not the other way around."

"Ugh!"

"How is he doing?" You dared to ask.

"He's miserable." He mumbled.

"Oh, Adam."

"Yea, yea, I know I have to fix this."

Adam pulls up to your student housing unit, and you can see Eddie sitting on your front porch. You sprint out of the car before Adam even puts the car in park, running into Eddie's arms, not caring about what Adam sees.

“I can’t do this. I can’t not see you or talk to you. I’ve been miserable without you.” He wraps his arms around you.

“Eddie-” your heart swelled. He was choosing you.

“Please, I don’t care what Adam says anymore. He can get over it. He will get over it. But I have to be with you.”

"Hey, man," Adam greeted.

"Hey," you moved so you faced Adam, but Eddie's arm was still wrapped around your shoulder.

"Look, I uh... I overreacted, and if she makes you happy, then... I guess I'm cool with it." He shrugged.

"Thanks, Man." You looked up to see Eddie smiling.

"I don't want to hear about any more sext stuff between you two. I still have PTSD." He laughed uncomfortably.

With that, Eddie got your bags from the car, and Adam left the two of you to be alone.

You walked into your house, and the girls weren't back yet; they wouldn't be coming back until tomorrow.

"You came back for me." You smiled before tilting your head up to kiss him.

“I was not letting him take away the best sex I’ve ever had; he can get over it.”

“The best sex you’ve ever had, huh?”

“With the best girl I’ve ever had.” He smiled before you led him to your bedroom...

[tang3r1n]

“Pervert!”

Shig is stuck at the single worst party of his life— until he spots that cutie from his biochem class.

warnings; dub/noncon, AFAB/FEM READER anal ref for like a second, unprotected sex, drunk/drugged reader, yandere-coded shig,, slut-shaming, incel-ish shig, dabi got too drunk and kinda screwed reader over, drugging(?), college au, i’m gonna redo this eventually, gross descriptions

a/n; this is my (late) secret santa gift and New Years present for the illustrious @mamayan !! i hope i did your dirty man justice, this was a part of @/ectologia’s amazing Secret Santa 2023 event they hosted!! both of these authors are big inspirations to me and i’m so glad i was able to be a part of this!

This New Years party was horrendously lame. shitty music, shitty lighting, shitty drinks; the whole thing was just an excuse for idiotic college frat douches to get wasted and fuck pretty little cheerleaders for the umptenth time.

Shigaraki watched with tepid interest as Dabi was cheered on by idiotic college students chugging his twentieth beer, scoffing as the drunk man raised his arms in triumph and let out a slurred war cry, already stumbling around. He was already sick of this place, the smell of pot and vomit burning his nostrils, just as he thought to dump his cheap booze away and kick rocks Dabi sauntered over to him, practically dragging another person with him.

Tomura felt his back immediately straighten, bloodshot red eyes widening as he saw your giggly attitude and cute little outfit. You were his shamefully massive crush from his chemistry class, the teacher’s student grader who left cute smiley faces and sweet memos on all his reports, always smiling and helpful and so so so kind to everyone. Shigaraki often got carried away staring at you during labs, watching as you bent over, how your lab coat was seemingly tightened just enough to where he can see your luscious curves, how your pretty hair falls so perfectly messy from your chaotic bun, ‘wonder how she’d look if i spread her out on this table—examine her..’

Dabi poked his chest harshly, a drunken grin plastered on his face as he held up in a mock chokehold, “lis’n h-hic!-here.. yer gonna take m’new girl n make sh-braap!-sure she ge’shome safe, kay?” Tomura rolled his eyes at his friend’s drunken speech, letting Dabi clap a hand on his shoulder to steady himself as he watched you giggle and pat Dabi’s back comfortingly. Your own cheeks were darkened and he could see the sway in your stance. Tomura couldn’t help but feel a twinge of emotion at Dabi’s declaration of you being ‘his new girl’ as he finally scoffed and pulled away, his frustration coming off as annoyance.

“Why am I in charge of your ‘new girl’?” he hissed, eyes narrowed. Your smile dropped and his gut wrenched at the sight knowing it was his fault, but he couldn’t help the little twitch of his cock at your glossy lips stuck in a cute pout. Dabi frowned and shoved the taller man harshly, stumbling a bit as he did, “dude fuck off, she’s jus’a sweet gal, wanna make sure she don’t get snatched up-hic!-I obvi’sly can’do it,” he chided, poking at Shigaraki’s chest. You interjected, pretty manicured fingers and bracket decorated wrists waving in protest, “no no no nonono, h-he don’t need to do that, ‘ll be f-fine!” you slurred and Tomura sighed, pinching his brows to hide the absolute jubilation he was experiencing. He couldn’t believe his luck— literally being hand-delivered the girl of his (wet) dreams on the shiniest of silver platters. He kept up the act, however, not wanting you to see his desperation, “nah, nah, you’re both stumbling like fucking morons, lemme go grab my shit,” he turned on his heels, calling over his shoulder, “go grab yours.” hearing your heels ‘click! click! click!’ off as you ran to get your cute purse.

“T-tomura I-ahh!” you whined and cried into your pillow, the fabric soaked and caked in your tears and makeup. You screamed as he pushed your back down into a sinfully painful arch, cock sloppily thrusting into your poor cunt. All you’d done is asked for help taking your massive heels off, bending down to untie the long, crossed straps as he snuck up from behind using his, very surprising, strength to grab and yank you up over his shoulder. You gasped and twisted, pounding on his back with your fists as he stumbled through your tiny apartment just off campus. It was only now that you regretted never agreeing to the on-campus dorms.

His whiny pants seemed to infect your very soul, bright red, bloodshot eyes staring down at you in such a creepy way, like he feared blinking would ruin his moment with you. Not like this was much of a fond moment being made, panties hanging off your ankle, shirt and bra ripped, literally ripped in half, hair frizzy and messy from his constant pulling and tugging. You felt disgusting; dizzy and nauseous, wet and gross with how loud your own pussy was squelching, the blunt ‘plap! plap! plap!’ of his balls against your puffy lips send chills of disdain and pleasure up your back, making your already jumbled brain that much more scattered.

He was so touchy, his clammy hands pinching and prodding at all your fat and curves, frantic in their path all over your sweaty skin. Shigaraki’s entire form was frantic, hips stuttering and basically humping you while his cock twitched wildly, arms and thighs quivering at he pinned you down, drool, literal spit, splattering against your face and neck as he openly crooned and moaned like a bitch in heat. You felt so violated as he praised your body, talking about ‘all those lonely nights’ and how he ‘spent so many labs with a hand down m’pants-“ god he was a fucking pervert.

You whined as his thumb found your clit, rubbing fast circles and sending a wave of pleasure through you, another wave of nausea following soon after as you bit back bile, there was no fucking way you were gonna cum from this degenerate raping you. But alas, try as you might your biology was working against you, thighs and cunt clenching around him and his cock as you neared your high. His laugh was cracks and hoarse as he leant down, greasy pale-blue hair tickling your nose as he licked a stripe up your face, drinking your tears, “mmfh—! fuck, y’gonna cum? huh?” he tried, rubbing tight circles onto your sensitive bundle of nerves. You thrashed in what little movement you could, sobbing and shaking your head, “N-NO, NEVER, YOU F-FUCKING PERV—“ he cut off your screams with a harsh swat to your pussy, causing a full body shake as you tipped over the edge.

Perhaps you would’ve been embarrassed if not blinded by the white-hot pleasure of your forced orgasm, mouth agape in a silent scream as your cum cremend his cock, creating a frothy ring of white at his base. Tomura giggled out a disgusting laugh, wiping the milky mixture and smearing it into your messy face, cooing at your disheveled appearance as he sped up his sloppy thrusts.

Just as you came down from your high, his hand suddenly pinned you back down by the neck, quickly cutting off any air as he whined above you, eyebrows creased as he fucked into your hot, messy pussy, “g-gonna cum— fill up y’pretty pussy,” he whined, using his thumb to softly poke and prod at both your lips and little puckered hole and causing you to jolt, tightening up around his again and sending Toura over to his own climax.

His ‘big o’ face was obscured by his tangled, dirty hair, a pathetically noisy groan resonating as he stilled inside you, pump after pump of warm, thick cum shot right in you. You cringed, so weak from your own finish that you did nothing but whine in protest as he slowly slipped his cock out, instantly jamming two of his lengthy fingers back in to keep his cum night and snug.

“Happy New Years, I—“

“fucking pervert.”’

[aziraphales-library]

Hi all! Thank you very much for all of your hard work. I've glad for this account since there is always something fun to read popping up. Can the Mods recommend any fics where either Aziraphale or Crowley use dating apps for any reason?

Hello. You'll find fics like this, including some of the fics listed here, on our #social media tag, but here are some dating app specific fics...

Bloggers, Baby! by Estrella3791 (T)

Crowley's a blogger, and he may or may not be developing a crush on his commenters. But he's not really - Oh, what's this? Angel1941 is on Tinder??

Oh, Lord, Heal This Love by WaitingToBeBroken (T)

"Looking for someone to take to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to notice we don't know each other," is what Crowley's dating profile says. Too bad Aziraphale was too busy staring at those graceful fingers in his picture to realise that, before he agreed to go on a date with him.

abide by me by cosmya (T)

The year is 2001. Crowley runs a fake marriage website, and Aziraphale has encountered a... problem that requires his services. Naturally, they have No Idea that it's each other at first, but when Aziraphale proves a difficult client, Crowley takes matters into his own hands.

Dim the Lights and Sing You Songs by Polaris (E)

A few months prior to leaving the Dowling household, Crowley had downloaded Grindr for the sole purpose of catfishing randy morons. He was not expecting a paragraph that began with: ‘hello. I hope you don’t think this is too forward, but I couldn’t help but notice you have the most lovely nipples.’ Crowley keeps trying to meet his Grindr fuckbuddy. Aziraphale keeps showing up at all his meeting spots. This is terrible.

MatchMade! by amaruuk (E)

Crowley tests a new dating app for an online publication. When his match dumps him for another man's match, he and his fellow dumpee take a chance on each other.

With Potential by Caedmon (E)

Aziraphale is an author of popular and successful romance novels. His books have done very well, so he's surprised when his publisher, Gabriel, comes in and tells him that they expect him to start including explicit sex scenes instead of just the fade-to-black he's been writing. Aziraphale argues a bit, but it's pointless. Gabriel isn't asking, he's telling. And now Aziraphale is in a pickle. He doesn't have a wide swath of sexual experience to pull inspiration from. So his assistant, Anathema, helpfully suggests that he download some dating apps and seek someone to hook up with for casual sex. Aziraphale is appalled by the idea of casual sex at first, and thinks that this plan is going to go absolutely nowhere, but agrees to give it a try. Three guesses what happens next.

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It by indieninja92 (E)

After the Apocalypse, Aziraphale ventures into a new space in the gay milieu - Grindr. There he starts talking to a charming young man who certainly doesn't bear any resemblance at all to a certain long streak of demon, not one bit, no thank you. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley navigate their friendship after the world failed to end. There is much drinking and silliness, but could it be that there are other feelings lurking underneath?? Of course there are, this is fanfic.

The Mathematical Improbability of Reaching the Stars by cassieoh, D20Owlbear (M)

Aziraphale, 3rd year doctoral candidate in Library Sciences and current failure at Astronomy 101, finds out about an app for meeting people from some undergraduates. He’s desperate for a tutor so he decides to try it out. Surely someone in the wilds of Tinder is willing to help him learn about the stars? Meanwhile, in said wilds of Tinder, Crowley (high school dropout, star enthusiast, and official garden center plant-harasser) is not really looking for anything past dinner and maybe ‘tea’ back at their place. Hijinks, and also a surprisingly intricate plot, ensue.

- Mod D

[danikamariewrites]

I absolutely adore and love your housewife Feysand series, it’s so good rishshdkdbdkck

I propose an idea, even though reader is usually always at home/Velaris, what if they got kidnapped??? And reader gets injured and Feysand go INSANE trying to find them and it’s just angsty hehehehehe BONUS POINTS if it’s just fluff and overprotective central once they rescue and find reader

Gone Girl

Feysand x reader

A/n: thank you anon! I love this little series and I’m so glad others are enjoying it

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, injuries, eventual fluff

As Feyre walked home, hand in hand with Nyx, she couldn’t help but go over today’s events. She hadn’t seen you since this morning. Which isn’t unusual but occasionally you’d pop in to say to her and Rhys while they worked.

Maybe your brunch with Mor had run longer than you thought it would? But you would’ve let them know you weren’t going to pick Nyx up from school. You always pick Nyx up from school.

As the pair entered the house Feyre saw Mor pacing in the living room. Worry on her face as she bit at her perfect nails.

Feyre crouched down in front of Nyx, giving the sweet boy a small smile. “Uncle Cass is in the kitchen, go ask him to help you with your after school snack.” The boy nodded excitedly, his floppy black hair swishing with his movements. “Ok mommy.” He gave Feyre a quick kiss on the cheek before running off to get the most unhealthy snack his uncle could find him.

Making her way over to Mor, Feyre tilted her head curiously. She took Mor’s hands before asking, “What is it?” “Y/n didn’t come to brunch. I haven’t seen her all day.” Feyre’s heart sank into her stomach. A moment later Azriel came bursting through the front door like a mad man. His shadows frantic as he yelled for his brother. “Rhys! Rhys we have a problem!”

Before Azriel could make his way up the stairs Feyre winnowed in front of him. Her hands pushed against his chest as the sapphire siphons flared, the only annoyance he showed at being bared from Rhys. When he realized Feyre was in front of Azriel pulled his High Lady up the stairs to the High Lords office.

Rhys jumped up from his chair as Azriel slammed the door. His still panicked demeanor scaring the pair. “Azriel what’s going on?” Feyre asked desperately. The spymaster got right to the point. “Y/n has been taken. A rival camp to Windhaven has reported rogue members, they think the group of males took her. A few of my spies noticed them in the city not well disguised.”

Feyre let out a cry, covering her mouth. Silver lined her eyes as Rhys held her up. He pressed his face to her head giving her a small, reassuring kiss. Rhys took a deep breath. “Do you know where she is?” Rhys asked darkly. Azriel was sure everyone in the house could feel the dark power emanating from the High Lord. “I will soon.” Azriel quickly left before the moment could turn personal. Giving the couple space.

Hours later Azriel reported that the four males had taken you to an abandoned village at the edge of the mountains. It was the dead of winter, you must be freezing. That made Rhys and Feyre even angrier. You were raised in the Summer Court you can’t handle the cold of Illyria.

Rhys didn’t want this done quietly. He wanted to make his presence known. These moronic males took what was the High Lord and Lady’s and they would pay dearly for it.

Winnowing to the center of the abandoned village Rhys, Feyre, Az, Cass, and Mor stood back to back in a circle. Weapons raised, their eyes scanned the dilapidated homes. Wind and snow whipped around the group making in almost impossible to see their surroundings. Azriel sent his shadows out in all directions. Minutes later one returned swirling frantically as it relayed information to its master. He whistled and nodded in the direction the shadow came from.

Rhys and Feyre were the first to move. As they walked ahead the raging snow storm seemed to part for them. Like it was afraid of their wrath.

——

The cabin was freezing. Your body was aching from shivering for hours on end. You try to pull at the ropes around your wrists but your arms were too weak to move. It felt like you were frozen in place.

The four males that had taken you from Velaris were huddled near the front door. Now that they weren’t looking you allowed yourself to wince at the pain rushing through your right cheek. One of the males had backhanded you so hard it left a large bruise and cut from just below your temple to your cheek.

You hadn’t said a single word to them when you came to. You just sat slightly slumped in the rickety chair they tied you to. You kept your face blank, not giving them the satisfaction of a reaction or screaming and pleading with them.

When you had first woken up you tried to reach out to Rhys and Feyre. They were too far so your connection to them was nonexistent. You had prayed to the Mother that your friends and family noticed you missing. Prayed that Mor thought it was weird you didn’t show up to brunch. And Nyx! Poor Nyx must’ve been so sad when you didn’t pick him up from school.

Tears started to blur your vision as you thought about your little boy. Would you ever see him again?

Before the sob building in your throat could leave your lips the sound of the front door splintering filled your ears. You ducked your head, hissing at how stiff your neck felt.

You didn’t have to look at who was beating your captors. You could feel their presence. You’d know them anywhere.

Screwing your eyes shut you waited for the chaos to be over. You heard snow and wood crunch under extra footsteps as the males are hauled away.

A warm hand caresses your unharmed cheek. “Y/n,” a small voice says tentatively. You slowly look up at your loves. The tears you were trying to hold back falling as you give them a tight lipped smile. “You came.” Your voice raspy from not being used. “Of course we did.” Rhys said, kneeling in front of you.

With a snap of his fingers you were free from the ropes. You slipped off the chair into Rhys’s embrace. He held your shivering body tight as Feyre winnowed the three of you back to the River House. Madja was waiting upstairs in the bedroom with an apprentice to check you over.

Once she was done you slept for hours. You were still trembling from the cold which Madja had informed them was normal. You should be fine by morning as long as the fire kept going. Feyre sat with you first while Rhys went to be with Nyx.

Nyx had begged his father to see you. The little boy didn’t understand why they brought you home in tears. He kept trying to sneak away from Rhys so he could see you. “I just want to cuddle with mom!” He had yelled and stomped when he was told no.

Rhys and Feyre had switched before Nyx’s bedtime. When Feyre came downstairs Nyx was sitting on the couch, a devious look on his face with his arms crossed. Feyre copied her son with a small chuckle as she faced him down. “I’m not going to bed until I see mom.”

She sat next to him with a sigh. “You’re not seeing mom tonight, baby.” Nyx let out a little hmph and leaned back. His little wings flaring behind him. By nine he was passed out and moved to his own bed.

——

Blinking your eyes open the bright morning sun caught you off guard. You thought it was nighttime. You slowly sit up against the headboard rolling out your stiff joints. Looking around you see Feyre and Rhys asleep leaning on each other at the end of the bed.

You tug on the duvet hard enough to wake them and they jolt whipping their heads around. You cover your mouth to stifle your laugh. Their eyes snap to you and relief floods their faces. They scramble to sit on either side of you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Sweetheart we were so worried.” “Are you ok? Do you need anything? Water, food, anything?” They continued their onslaught of questions until you pulled away from them.

“I’m fine. Maybe some breakfast and water. But I feel fine.” Rhys looked at you with an assessing gaze. “You’re sure?” You nod at him with a small smile. “I’ll get you some food.” Rhys gives you a kiss before leaving. You turn to look at Feyre.

She stares at you with watery eyes. Her finger gently traces around your cut. You could see the hurt in her eyes. She felt guilty for not getting to you sooner. You grabbed her hand kissing her fingers softly. “I love you, so much.” She whispered. “I love you too. Thank you, for coming to rescue me.” Feyre leaned her forehead against yours. “I’d burn down the world to find you.” Her warm lips pressed against yours in a soft kiss.

When Rhys came back Nyx was following him, holding back his excitement to see you. Before climbing on the bed he gave his father a look that asked for permission. As soon as Rhys nodded Nyx climbed up on the bed snuggling into your chest.

You felt Rhys caress your mental shields before letting him in. “Feyre meant it. We’d burn the world down if it meant you were safe in our arms.” “I know Rhys. And I love you both for it.” “You know you’re never leaving our sight again, right?” You mentally and physically roll your eyes at him. It was going to be a long time before you left the house without an escort soon.

[grandline-fics]

Forget-Me-Not

DESCRIPTION: Sometimes things happen beyond our control. After an accident occurs your relationship with Zoro is turned on its head and changed forever.

WARNINGS: no angst in this one, mostly fluff

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 2,588

A/N: This one was more on the slower side but things are developing and I hope this chapter was still enjoyable for you all

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six (here) | Chapter Seven (coming soon)

———————

Zoro was trying to not read too much into things but he couldn’t help it. Yes he kissed you back because of a moment of pure weakness and selfishness on his part but he still had no clear answer about why you initiated it in the first place. Had it been as you said? That you truly didn’t know the driving force of your actions. Or could it have been a case of some of your memories beginning to trickle to the surface? Instinct taking over whenever you finally felt his touch winning out over your current state of rationality that your amnesia brought. He’d spent most of the afternoon training, pushing himself harder than normal just to take his mind off of it all. He only stopped when he noticed how dark it was getting and knew you needed to eat.

When he knocked at the door to the medical room he waited for you to answer. In the short time he stood there he still couldn’t get used to the fact that this was where he had to go to find you. It felt wrong, it was the main reason he couldn’t sleep restfully anymore. His body had gotten so used to having you beside him night after night for so long that the abrupt change of sleeping on his own again had completely thrown him and not even his intense training and sheer stubbornness was enough to help him find peaceful sleep. Zoro was brought out of his thoughts when the door slowly opened and he met your face coming into view. He knew that initial hazy expression well, you’d been sleeping and then he felt a small sense of pride to see the look of appreciation slip in when you looked him over. In a way it was reassuring to see that even with your memories gone, your physical attraction to him was still there.

Quickly he focused to discuss organising dinner with you seeing as the others still hadn’t returned to the Sunny. It wasn’t strange for long trips on a new island, and coupled with the fact he knew everyone intended to drag out their time before returning to the ship so you and he would be completely alone it was likely no one would return until late that night. Once he agreed to meet you in the kitchen, he turned and headed for the washroom to shower as quickly as he could. He wasn’t a great cook by any means but he didn’t want all of the work to go to you. After he was washed and changed into fresher clothes he walked into the kitchen to the smell of food already cooking on the stove. At the sound of Zoro’s approach you turned and gave him a small smile. “Good news is Sanji left stuff already prepared for us to make dinner. Guess he didn’t trust us to fend for ourselves.” 

“More like he thought I’d destroy his precious kitchen.” Zoro muttered, feeling that the stupid cook had done this to gain a point against him. To show off his fancy cooking skills even when he wasn’t here. 

“Who’s to say I’m not capable of burning the kitchen down?” You asked playfully before turning to stir the food simmering on the stove. “It could be me he doesn’t trust.”

“For one you’re a good cook and two even if you weren’t that moron would forgive you for anything.” Zoro shrugged and stepped further into the room taking charge of the vegetables on the chopping board that needed cut. 

Together you both cooked in content silence, the first real sense of calm settling between you both since the day you woke from your accident. In a way you were glad of nearly falling down the steps and the inexplicable and heavily inappropriate kiss you both shared because it seemed to help get some of the tension out of you both enough to make things bearable. Also the memory you had while you slept also helped settle some of your previous animosity towards the swordsman. Knowing that you had been a part of the crew and that you cared enough to tend to his wounds had only proved what they’d told you from the beginning; you were a pirate like them. You’d joined them, you were a friend. Cautiously you cast a quick glance at Zoro, more than a friend it seemed with him. 

You remembered his defiance to tell you anything just this morning unless you genuinely wanted to know and would listen. Were you ready now? If you were asking that then the answer was probably no. You considered that if you’d had one of your memories come back on their own then perhaps the others would too without outside influence of the others telling you the stories. You jumped when Zoro’s hand touched your shoulder and looked at him, snapping out of your daze. Anxiously you lowered the flame to stop the food from burning in time. Nervously you laughed. “See? Told you it was me that could burn everything.”

“You okay?” Zoro asked, studying you carefully. It was hard to know what was stepping too close to the line or pushing past what you were comfortable with now. If it was still the you that had all of your memories he would have known to ask what was on your mind, able to see for sure that something was heavy in your thoughts, pulling your focus. Now? He had to be gentler than he wanted to be, a simple question without being direct. It was rare for him to have this approach since he favoured the swift and direct method. Zoro lifted his hand away from your shoulder when he realised he’d been touching you all this time. 

The second his hand lifted your eyes flickered to the shoulder, registering the lack of warmth that the momentary touch had brought. Quickly you pushed back the way your body wanted to lean into his hold. You nodded and to Zoro’s question and forced a small smile. “Yeah, sorry. Just daydreaming…”

“About anything in particular?”

“Nothing really.” You mumbled, lifting the spoon to your lips to test if the food needed salvaging after nearly burning it. It was good but it still needed something. “Just letting my mind wander…” Zoro stepped back to let you walked around the kitchen with purpose. You opened one of the cabinets and lifted a small unlabelled jar before returning to the stove. With precision you sprinkled some of the contents into the food and stirred. You took a taste and smiled in satisfaction. Lifting another spoon you took a small helping and offered it to Zoro who was staring at you evenly. “Try.”

Zoro hesitated for a second but took the spoon from your hand to taste the food. Delicious as he knew it would be. “It’s great.” He told you, turning away sharply to grab the plates. “Always is.”

“Good to know but what’s wrong?” You asked, serving out his portion and then your own and took a seat at the table, watching Zoro steadily as he took the spot opposite you. “What did I do?”

“The seasoning.” Zoro finally admitted. “You went straight for it even though you haven’t cooked since waking. You knew where it was and what it was for even though it wasn’t labelled.”

“Oh…” You glanced at the jar on the counter only now seeing how strange it was. “I didn’t even realise. What is it anyway?”

“Something you found way back for me when the stupid cook’s dishes are too sweet.” Zoro explained with a small smile at the memory that he quickly hid by shoving food into his mouth. Even telling you that much felt like he was pushing too much, like he was influencing your thoughts even if it was the truth. He wasn’t going to lie but he felt a small sense of hope when he saw you immediately take the jar. Like it was a sign something was beginning to shake loose in your mind. It was an insignificant thing but he would take it. Now he worried when you were quiet. “Sorry.”

“Why’re you apologising? It’s the truth right?” You shrugged lightly, it wasn’t something Zoro needed to say sorry for. “Sanji does like to favour sweetness, doesn’t he?” 

“Think he does it on purpose sometimes with my food. Dumbass.” Zoro conceded with a small laugh, glad for the slight diversion from the conversation. You bit back your own grin in an attempt to hide it but failed. 

“Oh come on, you’d be bored if he wasn’t here to argue with.” Zoro rolled his good eye at your teasing and pointed his fork at your food. 

"Just hush and eat before it gets cold.”

When the meal was finished and everything cleaned, you joined Zoro in the Crow’s Nest. With just the two of you on the ship it would mean the watch would be shared between you both until any of the others decided to come back. As you took your seat you looked out the window at the bright lights of the large cityscape on the island, your thumb lightly running along your bottom lip as your mind began to drift again. “They'll be fine. We haven’t heard fighting or Marine alerts yet so they’re actually behaving for once.”

You looked over to where Zoro stood, leaning against the large pane of glass instead of sitting anywhere near you. Deep down you knew he spoke the truth, Luffy’s overwhelming excitement and boundless energy would mean that he was just as loud and obvious when fighting. If the city was calm then you didn’t need to worry about your crew. Quickly you tensed at how you considered them ‘yours’ now instead of just ‘the crew.’ That memory you experienced had affected you more than you initially realised. Your attention was grabbed when you heard Zoro hold back a deep breath, you narrowed your eyes slightly in keen scrutiny. He was holding back a yawn, a real one and not that pretend one he’d made earlier when he claimed he was going to nap. “Lie down and sleep Zoro. I'll take first watch.”

“I’m fine.”

“Again with the stubbornness?” You asked accusingly and gestured to the countless seats he could lie down on. “Just lie down okay? I slept earlier. I promise I’ll wake you when I start to feel sleepy.” Zoro stared at you hard and you refused to back down. “Please.”

Zoro swallowed hard and slowly shook his head, for a moment you were ready to insist again but instead anything you were prepared to shout at him stopped in your throat when he pushed away from the wall with a huff and trudged to the closest section of seats and lay down on his back, tucking his hands behind his head lazily. He would pretend to sleep to keep you happy. At the sound of movement, Zoro cracked his good eye open and frowned warily when you moved to sit closer to his head. You still kept some distance but were within touching distance now. “You look like a deep sleeper, have to be closer to shake you awake if I need to.”

Zoro hesitated at your willingness to be closer in proximity to him but again that selfish weakness that he had when it came to you was creeping back. He’d take anything he could get. Even if it was small, even if it meant that when you returned home like you planned to and even if it meant he’d hurt even more he would gladly accept it all, just for a little bit more of you. His eye closed again as he allowed another yawn to build in his chest and this time let it out. You watched Zoro carefully, unable to stop your small smile to see him give in and sleep. Perhaps now Chopper would be less concerned now that the swordsman would be more rested. 

As you stared out the window you absently let your hand settle into Zoro’s hair, unaware you'd done it at first until you felt him lean into your touch in his sleep. When you looked down again and saw the calm in Zoro’s expression your heart fluttered slightly and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull your hand back. He looked as though some weight he’d been holding had lifted now that he was sleeping and relaxed. You bit your lower lip and quickly looked towards the window again to keep watch while your fingers gently continued to move against Zoro’s hair, occasionally massaging against his scalp in between your slow movements. 

It wasn’t long before you noticed movement and the clear outline of people approaching the Sunny. Thanks to the bright moonlight you could see Luffy and the others had returned. Knowing you didn’t need to wake Zoro you carefully moved your hand away from his head and quietly descended the ladder to greet the group as they climbed aboard. “Nice day?”

“Yeah, the city’s great.” Nami answered first, her bright gaze drifting briefly up to the Crow’s Nest before returning her stare to you. “Lots to see and explore. Can’t wait to go back for more shopping.”

“There’s time to go back?” You asked, glancing behind her shoulder to see Sanji skipping on board with a mountain of shopping bags in his arms. Obviously this was the result of Nami’s shopping trip but you noticed a few bookstore bags in his hold too that belonged to Robin. Franky, Usopp, and Chopper carried crates of ship supplies on board and smiled to you in greeting before disappearing to unload what they’d bought.

“Well yeah…that’s kinda the bad news. For you I suppose.” The navigator broached the subject delicately. “Log pose will take three weeks to set. I’m sorry it’s not sooner than you’d like but it just means we can gather as much to stock the ship for the long journey back to your island. I hope you’re not mad.”

“Oh well it can’t be helped, right?” You asked with a small laugh, surprising Nami. All day she’d been expecting your annoyance and wish to just get home the second they had enough supplies to last them the trip back. “Well I’ll go wake Zoro. It’s Luffy’s turn for watch right?” You asked with a nervous smile before turning to go up to the Crow’s Nest while Luffy bounced happily behind you, telling you about the things he’d seen on the island and in the city. 

Nami stared at you curiously as you left. Did you seem happy that you were here a little longer? She knew better than to ask outright or let on that she suspected a change in you, but she was going to watch you a lot closer now. While she was desperate to know what happened between you and Zoro while you were alone all day she had to restrain herself. Three weeks was a long time and she was certain that there was going to be a lot more to come. She let out an amused hum as she watched you and Luffy appear in the window of the Crow’s Nest, waking Zoro. At the same time Robin stepped beside her. “Three weeks, hm? I could have sworn that store owner told you and I the pose would set in three days.”

“Well what the others don’t know, won’t hurt them. Right?”

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

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773 @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa , @vikispike , @portgasmyass , @diarythroughmylens , @itsagoodluckkiss , @emmaiscool22 , @loveyluv7 , @starlightanyaaa , @sp1ng , @guridoodles

[howlingday]

HI! Glad your ask box is open again!

Rusted Knight Jaune: Say one more word! I dare you!

Nora: ... Goobolentorial.

RK!Jaune: (reels back to punch her)

Nora: (shrieks and shields herself)

RK!Jaune: ... y'know what, you're a fuckin' joke. We didn't even want you on Team JNPR. Even Ruby didn't want you, and she'll take anybody. I mean, you are a ridiculous, immature, half-wit moron. I have never met a sadder, more attention-starved, jabbering little bitch in my entire life! And that says a lot, 'cause I've been in the Ever After for almost twenty fuckin' years! And I'll tell you that mute chick was right about one thing; you will never. Save! THE WORLD! You couldn't even save a relationship with someone you've been with since childhood! Motherfucker, I wish I could say that you'll die alone, except it's one of GOD'S BEST JOKES that you won't die! EXCEPT IT'S ON ALL OF US!

Nora: (on the verge of tears) ...

RK!Jaune: Oh, you got nothin' to say, Queen of the Castle?!

Nora: ...

Jaune: ...I thought so. (Walks away)

Tink!

Jaune: (Turns around)

Nora: (Standing up, Holding another rock)

Jaune: What? Did you finally have something to s

Nora: (Panting)

Jaune?: Agh! You bitch! What the fuck did you do?!

Nora: Get out of my friend.

Jaune?: ...So, you finally figured it out-

Nora: I'm not asking again! Get out of Jaune right now, or I'm going to break you out!

Not Jaune: Ha! And then what? He dies and you're left with blood on your hammer!

Nora: Then you'll die, too.

Curious Knight: I don't think you've thought this through...

Curious Knight: Because I like those odds~!

ROUND I... FIGHT!

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

hi i could request mafia!carlos where he is like mean to everyone but you and is super protective and possessive with reader please!?

Mine - Carlos Sainz

<word count - 7833>

It was nearing on dinner time, and Carlos still wasn't finished with the meeting he had gone into hours ago. Business had been booming lately, and he always had people wanting to make deals with him.

The maids were scrambling, since they normally asked you or Carlos what you wanted for dinner. You didn't know, so then the responsibility usually landed on Carlos. It was such a small decision to make that would have zero consequences, but your mind had gone blank.

You knew you usually shouldn't interrupt Carlos' meetings, but it was surely nearing the end, and there probably weren't many more important things to talk about. You approached the door and heard some frustrated conversations on the inside. "I am not having this move screwed up by you fucking morons," you heard Carlos spit. 

Knocking hesitantly, you opened the door and poked your head around it. "Not right now," Carlos huffed, and he was looking rather dishevelled. His suit jacket was sitting askew on his body, his top button had been undone and his hair was ruffled due to how many times he had run his hands through it. 

Carlos looked up as the door opened, and his face completely softened. "Hey, baby, you OK?" he asked, opening his arm out to you to slot yourself into. "Can I ask you something really quick? It's OK if not, it's not important," you said as you felt the eyes of all the men in the room on you. 

"Yeah, of course, c'mere," he said, glad to see you after hours of dealing with these useless wastes of oxygen. "Turn away," he commanded the people around you, not wanting them to see you or watch your body as you approached him. 

He didn't want their dirty, sinful gazes on you, since he wouldn't be able to control what they were thinking like he could their actions. The thought of it made him sick, and he didn't want you to be exposed to the world he lived in. 

You were his serenity in the madness, and he couldn't have that tainted by people with purely bad intentions. He could keep you safe, and that was exactly what he would do until he took his dying breath. 

As the men turned their chairs away, all that could be heard was the click of your heels on the cold marble floors as they echoed in the high ceilings. "What do you want for dinner?" You asked as he rested an arm around your waist. 

"How does steak sound?" He said after thinking for a moment. 

"Yeah, good. Sorry for interrupting," you apologised, sweetly smiling at him. He looked tired, but only you would be able to tell. He would keep a stone cold, stoic face on while he was around other people, but would become the clingiest man you had ever met when it was just the two of you. 

"Don't be sorry, I'm very glad to see you," he smiled, tugging you in for a kiss on the cheek. "And we should be done within half an hour, given that these guys stop being such fuckwits," he raised his voice slightly so that the men could hear.

"I'll see you in a bit," you smiled, turning and walking back out of the meeting. Once you were out of the room, Carlos allowed the men to turn around and look at him again. They seemed to get the hint and they stopped fucking around with him, since the realised it wouldn't get them anywhere. 

If Carlos wanted something, he would get it. If he wanted something done, it would be done his way or no way. He had that power, and he was sure as hell going to use it. 

As he had said, his meeting was wrapped up within half an hour, and he had his security on the doors to make sure they all left and wouldn't try anything. You were stood on the stairs as you watched them go, and one of them sent you a flirtatious wink. 

If Carlos had done something like that, it would have sent shivers up your spine and butterflies in your stomach. But he had made you feel a shiver of disgust, an uncomfortable tingle that made you feel uneasy. 

You saw as he leant into the guy walking beside him, whispering something to him with a filthy grin plastered on his face. Carlos' ears pricked up when he heard the mention of the men seeing a beautiful woman in the house. 

"I wonder how much he pays her to saunter that cute ass of hers up to him like that, because I'd fucking give it to her," he joked, but the man he was walking with stayed silent. He saw as Carlos' face turned into pure, unbridled rage. 

Without warning, Carlos rushed up to the guy, pinning him against the wall by his collar. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" he spat in his face, and the guy just stayed silent, practically shaking with fear. "I asked you a fucking question, who the fuck do you think you are talking about my wife like that?" 

Carlos let the guy sweat for a bit, and he opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He was frozen in fear and instantly regretted what he had said and he wanted so desperately to take it back. "You say anything about her again, or you so much as think about her again, I will know and I will make sure she's the last goddamn thing you get the pleasure of fucking thinking about, got it?" he said, pressing the guy against the wall even harder.

Security didn't bother intervening, knowing full well that Carlos could handle himself. They knew when to step in, but they were enjoying the show.  "Answer me when I fucking speak to you. Do you understand?" he spat in his face again. 

"Y-Yes," he stuttered, not able to meet Carlos' eyes. 

"Show some fucking respect, yes what?" Carlos said through gritted teeth, gripping onto the guy's collar as his knuckles turned white. "Yes, sir," the guy gulped, praying that Carlos would just let him go. Carlos released the man from against the wall, but not before he swung and punched him square in the face.

The sickening crunch of his nose echoed around you, and you took a sharp intake of breath at the sight of the blood running down his face and dripping onto the floor. "Get the fuck out of my house," Carlos commanded as the guy scurried out of the door along with the rest of them. 

Carlos inspected his hand, his knuckles split and purple bruises were already blooming over the skin, but he still hadn't realised that you were there. He liked to keep you away from that side of his life, but you seeing snippets was inevitable.

You moved slightly, but the halls were very echoey, so he heard you, his head snapping up to where you were stood. "Hey, princess, we're all done," he said, trying to hide his hand behind his back. But, he could tell by the look on your face that you had seen something. 

"How much did you see?" he sheepishly asked, trying to stop his hand from shaking. He couldn't feel the pain now because of all the adrenaline running through his veins, but he felt this weird numbness. "All of it," you said, descending the stairs towards him.

"Well it's been taken care of now. Sorry, you shouldn't have had to see that," he apologised, his head hung low. He didn't like the look of worry on your face, your features flushed with concern. He never wanted you to stress or worry about him. "It's OK, I don't mind," you dismissed as you stood in front of him, "You go sit down, I'll get some stuff to wrap up your hand," 

"No, no, I'll do it, don't worry," he shook his head, pulling his hand away from you as you tried to inspect the damage. He could take care of himself, and he wanted to deal with the slightly painful consequences of his violent, yet just, actions. "Carlos, please," you softly sighed, not wanting him to pull away from you. 

On the day you got married, you vowed to take care of him in sickness and in health. Yes, that wasn't geared towards when your husband had broken someone's nose and his knuckles were split, but it still applied - especially in the world you were living in. 

Carlos was now at the disadvantage, since he could never say no to you. You could ask him for the world, and he would burn anyone in it to give it to you. You could ask him for the stars, and he'd go to space himself to retrieve every last one for you.

"Fine," he sighed, letting you lead him over to the dining room table. You could smell dinner being made in the kitchen next door, but you still had some time to patch Carlos up before then. "I'll be back," you told him, walking out of the room and leaving him to think for a minute. 

Just thinking about the way that guy had spoken about you was making his blood boil all over again as he clenched his fists, not caring about the sting that stretching the open wounds caused. 

He hated the fact that he knew other people had definitely spoken about you in worse ways, and thought about you. They would have this sick, twisted, perverted version of you in their dirty little minds, where they only used you and threw you away like a ragdoll. Where they only used you for your perfect body and pretty face before discarding you. 

If he had a dollar for everytime he knew someone was thinking about you, he'd be a rich man. Well, he was already rich, but he'd be filthy rich if that was the case. The worst part was: there was nothing he could do. He was only able to give that man what he deserved because he had heard him say it, but not everyone was dumb enough to say it within earshot of him. 

"Hey, you OK?" you asked, placing a hand on his shoulder as you snapped him out of his thoughts. You had noticed that he was clenching his fists so hard that his nails were digging into the flesh of his palms and leaving red crescents behind. 

"You know, you didn't have to punch him," you said, pushing another chair right next to him and taking his hand. "I am not letting grimy bastards like him get away with saying things like that about you, not at all," he told you. 

You produced a disinfectant wipe from its packet, gently wiping it over his skin, cleaning the blood away from the area. Carlos quietly hissed as it stung, but he had been through a hell of a lot worse, so it was nothing he couldn't deal with. 

"I thought you'd seen him wink at me but I guess not..." You quietly said, rooting through the first aid kit to find bandages. "Sorry, he winked at you? Fucking pussy ass bitch got off easy then. I'll kill him, I swear to god," he seethed, and you struggled to keep his hand still while you wrapped it up. "Baby, don't worry about it, he's gone," you said. 

He was grappling with himself internally, wondering how you could remain so calm after what he had done and said. If he had it his way, Carlos would have hunted him down, punished him for a short while, then sent his body home in multiple parts over the span of a few weeks. "Sure, whatever you say," he reluctantly agreed, resting his hand to make it easier for you. 

You wrapped the soft white cotton around his still slightly bleeding knuckles, before pinning it into place so it wouldn't come off. "Thank you, princess," he smiled, placing a hand on your thigh. "No problem," you told him, resting a head onto his shoulder while you waited for dinner. 

"Have you still got that party on tonight?" You asked, tilting your head to look at him from the side. Shit he thought, having completely forgotten. It was a club that one of his associates owned, and he needed to go just to keep up appearances. Charles and Lando would be there too, so it wouldn't be all that bad. 

"Yeah, yeah I do. I won't stay out too late, don't worry," he told you, kissing you softly on the top of your head. "Can I come with you?" you sweetly asked, knowing he wouldn't want you to go. But, you had the perfect plan to make him say yes. 

"No, baby, no. You know what the people there are like," he dismissed, not wanting you around those people. Sure, Charles and Lando would be there, but they were the only other decent people that would be in your vicinity. "Please? I wanna go and have some fun," you pleaded, batting your eyelashes at him. 

Carlos sighed, not wanting to regret the decision he was about to make. "Fine, you can come, but you have to stay by my side at all times, OK?" he said, already feeling nervous about taking you. But, saying no to you was the hardest thing he would ever do in his life, and he had never done it once. 

"OK, yeah, of course," you happily giggled, glad to go out. Sure, you got to go out and do the day to day stuff, but never without security or Carlos hanging around you constantly. You understood why, since Carlos was in dangerous business with some minacious people, but it would still be nice to let loose for a night.

As soon as you had finished dinner, you ran up the stairs to get ready. Carlos smiled to himself, loving how you liked to get all dolled up whenever you went out. It also meant he would have his work cut out for him, keeping men away from you, but it was worth it if you got to feel like a million dollars. 

Carlos came up to get changed not long later, spotting you pinning your hair into place at your vanity table. "Michael is ready with the car whenever you're ready to go," he told you, speaking about your driver that had been with Carlos since before you had. 

"OK," you confirmed, finishing off your hair and applying a lick of lipstick across your lips. You walked into your wardrobe, scanning the hangers for a dress to wear. Despite the amount that you had, none of them really stood out to you. 

"I like the red one, if that helps," Carlos called out to you, walking in as he tucked his shirt into his slacks. It was like he knew what you were thinking, and he always knew the solution to combat the problem. "Which one?"

"The one you wore for my birthday last year," he smirked, and your cheeks instantly heated up at the thought of what you got up to. You had never enjoyed a club bathroom more, and I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

"Sure, I like your thinking," you nodded, taking it off the hanger and slipping your silk robe off your shoulders. Carlos just watched as you slipped the red fabric over your body. It hugged your curves and made you look like a model. 

You tried to twist your arms around to the back of the dress to zip it up, but Carlos was there in a flash to do the job for you. He braced on hand on your waist as he pulled the zip up towards your neck. When he was done, he placed soft kisses down your neck and across your bare shoulders.

"Hey, hey. Lay off it," you giggled, trying to struggle out of his grasp. 

"But I don't want to," he whined, sucking on your neck and leaving red marks on the skin. 

"Carlos!" you scolded, spinning away from him and looking at yourself in the mirror. The splotches were already turning a deep burgundy, and you ran your fingers over them. "Carlos," you sighed, pouting at him. 

"How else are people going to know you're mine? It's for your own good, I promise," he smirked, swinging his jacket over his shoulders. Carlos walked over to the shoe rack, picking out the shiny black Louboutins that he adored on you.

He placed them in front of you and you stepped into them. They made your legs look longer, and the extra few inches looked good on you. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, Carlos held his arm out to you, and you took it. 

"You look stunning, baby," he complimented, raking his eyes over your figure as you walked. "Thank you, you're looking rather handsome tonight," you returned.

"Thank you,"  he smiled, helping you into the car. Michael drove the pair of you to the club, and there was already a queue down the length of the street to the doors. The security guard let you and Carlos straight through with a nod of his head, pointing you in the direction of the VIP section that was cordoned off with a red rope. 

Carlos threaded an arm around your waist as you weaved through the crowd in an attempt to keep you as close to him as possible. "You stay with me at all times, no matter what. If for whatever reason you can't find me, you stay with Charles or Lando, got it?" he reiterated, leaning down to talk in your ear so you could hear him over the loudness of the club. 

"Yeah, I got it," you nodded, willing to do what he asked since he had reluctantly agreed to bring you with him in the first place. He saw people's eyes rake over your figure for longer than his liking, and he hated how sleazy the guys that came to these places were.

There was not a single good thing about them - they were truly the scum of the Earth that he wished he could squash beneath his feet. They were the reason he hated bringing you anywhere with him, and he didn't want them anywhere near you. 

Carlos was on edge, to say the least, as he gripped onto your waist and tugged you impossibly closer to him. Charles and Lando were easy to spot as they sat together, downing some sort of shot. "Hey, guys," Carlos alerted them of your presence and they stood up to hug you. 

"Hey Carlos, Y/N, you guys want a drink?" Lando shouted over the music, pointing to where the bar was. "Yeah, I'll come with, Y/N wait here with Charles," Carlos instructed, walking over with Lando. He couldn't stop himself from glancing over at you every five seconds as he waited for your drinks, and he hated being away from you. 

Yes, it was only for barely even five minutes, you were in safe hands with Charles and you were in very clear view, but he still felt like he was too far away from you. Lando moved to the other side of Carlos, nodding over to two guys standing next to them at the bar. 

"Listen," he said, and Carlos trained his ears on their conversation. 

"You see the chick in the red dress?" one of them said, pointing in the direction of where you were sat. "Yeah, the one with Leclerc?" the other asked. 

"Yeah, she is a knock-out. I'll bet you fifty that I can get with her tonight," he smirked, hitting his friend in the shoulder. "Isn't she with Leclerc? He won't let you anywhere near her," 

"No, he flies solo. She's probably just some trouncing bimbo after his money, she'll be an easy catch," he said, holding his hand out for him to shake in agreement. 

"I'll take the one on the left, you get the one on the right," Lando said in his ear, eyes glued to the men who were starting to get suspicious. Carlos didn't want to cause a scene, so he had already, unfortunately, ruled out any form of violence. "No, no, I've got it covered," Carlos said, and Lando knew he'd be fine. 

As Carlos approached, the men instantly knew who he was. "The chick in the red dress is pretty cute, you should go for it," he started, giving them a bit of confidence as small, sly smiles formed on their lips. "If you want to die, that is."

For a moment, they looked at him, confusion written all over their features. They really were thick and couldn't connect the dots that had all been laid out perfectly for them. "If you want to keep living your miserable, pitiful, useless little lives, I'd suggest you don't talk about or look at my wife ever again," he told them, suddenly turning serious.

Their faces completely dropped in horror as they backed away. Carlos was using every ounce of self-control that he possessed to not hit them. "S-sorry," one stuttered. Carlos loved to watch them squirm, loved to see the pure fear he could feel radiating from them.

"You should be, now fuck off," Carlos spat, wanting them out of his sight. He turned back to Lando and picked up your drinks, making a beeline straight for where you were with Charles. He sat beside you, so close that your thighs were touching as he wrapped a comfortable arm around your waist. 

Holding onto you made him feel a bit more easy, knowing he could keep you safe if you were closer to him. As the boys settled into casual conversation, you had already finished your drink and were wanting another one. 

As you usually would, you stood from your seat and started to walk towards the bar. "Hey, where are you going?" Carlos asked, grabbing your wrist. 

"I'm going to get a drink, does anyone want one?" you asked, not seeing the meaning behind his question. "Not by yourself you're not, princess," he sighed, going to stand up with you.

"Don't worry about it, you guys got the last round, these are on me," Charles chirped, leaving the table. Carlos pulled you back down beside him as Lando carried on talking. "Remember, you don't go anywhere without me," he muttered in your ear.

No matter what, Carlos always had an arm around your waist or your shoulders, or a hand firmly on your thigh. People needed to see that you were his, and if they couldn't tell by the closeness of how you were sat with him, or the now purple marks down your neck and shoulders, then they'd be able to tell by the grasp he always had on you. 

"I'm going to the bathroom," you told Carlos, taking his hand and standing from your seat again. "OK, I'll come with," he said, glad that you had told him where you were going. You were doing as he'd asked, and that made him happy. 

"You wait here, I'll be out in a second," you said, trying to leave him by the door of the women's bathroom. Once he was sure you were in, he walked in and stood by the sinks. For all he knew, there could have already been some dickhead in there, waiting for some unassuming victim to walk into their lair. 

One of the doors in front of him opened, and it was like the past was walking right out of there and smacking him square in the face. "Carlos! If you wanted to see me, you certainly didn't have to follow me in here," she winked, the pitch of her voice sending uncomfortable shivers down his spine. 

"Marissa," he acknowledged, mentally willing you to hurry up so that he wouldn't have to deal with her for long. "Bit dodgy waiting in the ladies' room, don't you think?" she asked, sauntering up to him and running her hands across his chest. "Someone's been working out-"

"Get off me," he snapped, batting her hands away. Her touch felt agonizing, her fingertips like ice that he could feel through his shirt.  "Aw Carlos, don't be so rude to your old friend, it's not like you're with anyone either," she cooed, her voice turning sultry in a way that was supposed to be seductive. 

Rewind seven or so years, and Carlos would have fallen for her false charms and taken her home, maybe spent some of his hard earned money on her. But now, he had new eyes and saw right through her facade. He was glad to be out of that period of his life, because he was forced to become a better man, and that meant he could have you, and he wouldn't trade it for the world. 

"I'm married, I'm waiting for my wife at the moment," he deadpanned, stepping away from her and folding his arms as a way to block her off from him. "Carlos Sainz? Married? Oh that's a funny one," she giggled, twirling her dark hair around her finger. 

"I'm glad you found it funny, because I'm serious," he said, not even giving her the decency of eye contact as he spoke. "My Carlos would never commit to a relationship, let alone marry someone," she said like she knew him. She might have at one point, but she certainly didn't anymore. 

"I'm not your Carlos, and I never will be again. Now go and enjoy your evening," Carlos told her, trying to get rid of her. "How about you come to my table? We've got drinks, you can bring Norris and Leclerc, I'm sure they'd love to get in on the fun," she said, batting her eyelashes at him. 

"Marissa just piss off will you?" Carlos spat. As if by the grace of god, the other bathroom stall opened and you walked up. "Baby? Who's this?" You asked as if you hadn't heard their entire interaction.  "Hey princess, this is Marissa, old friend of mine," Carlos explained, immediately welcoming you into his embrace. 

"We were a lot more than friends," she smirked, clearly trying to make you mad. But, you knew that Carlos had a past, not a great one, but it was still a past he had been open and honest about. "I'm Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you," you sweetly smiled, ignoring her comment.

You held your left hand for her to shake, your engagement ring shining bright and proud under the harsh lights of the bathroom. To be blunt, the rock that sat on your finger was massive, and unmissable. Marissa clearly caught it in her eyeline and visibly grimaced, before plastering a fake smile on her plastic lips. 

"Likewise," she practically hissed at you, before turning back to Carlos. "Well, it's been nice chatting, but I'm going to have to go. Call me, Carlos. I've missed you," she flirted as one last attempt to make you mad, but you just found it pitiful. 

When you knew she was gone, you turned to Carlos. "Call me, Carlos, I've missed you," you giggled, mocking Marissa's voice. He chuckled along, glad to have you back in his arms. "Come on, let's get back out there," Carlos said, pulling you along with him.

As you approached Lando and Charles again, you heard them cackling. "You will never guess who just came over here," Charles laughed, playfully whacking Lando on the shoulder. 

"Looks like a walking corpse, awful voice, and an absolute slut for you, Carlos!" Lando giggled like a schoolboy. "Marissa?" Carlos said, cocking an eyebrow as if he were genuinely unknowing as to who they were talking about. "Aren't you clever, how'd you guess?" Lando sarcastically chuckled as the two of you sat down.

"Because she just tried to fuck me in the bathroom while I was waiting for Y/N," Carlos told them as he watched their faces turned shocked, yet extremely amused. "Shit no way!" Charles exclaimed.

"Yes way, I could hear her touching him and she said 'Someone's been working out' and I wanted to kill the bitch," you explained, Charles and Lando loudly laughing. Carlos was flabbergasted. He had never heard you say you wanted to kill anyone, or inflict any type of violence towards someone.

You were always so soft and compassionate, but he found this side to you amusing. "She might as well have gotten down on her knees and begged for it. 'Please fuck me Carlos, I'm a desperate whore for it!'" You mimed, causing Charles and Lando to double over due to how hard they were laughing.

Carlos, on the other hand, wanted you to say it again, but without mimicking Marissa. You had never begged for it, because you never had to. He gave you whatever you wanted at the drop of the hat, and most of the time, you never really asked for it. He just gave it to you. He gave anything to you.

You were loving the bitching session you were having with Charles and Lando, Carlos occasionally chipping in with a few words. Taking Carlos' hand, you inspected the red scabs on his knuckles. He was able to take the bandage off before you came out, since they had healed over pretty quickly. 

"Who did you beat this time?" Lando asked with an air of levity, since he knew what Carlos was like. He had a short temper most of the time, especially when it came to anything to do with you. "Just some fuck who needs to wash his mouth out with bleach," Carlos tutted, looking at the red crusts scattered around the skin. 

"I'm surprised the guy is still alive," Charles chuckled, and you never really got used to how braizen they were about ending people's lives. "So am I," Carlos agreed. You all carried on talking, and Carlos could feel eyes on him on occasion.

He looked over, past the red rope to see Marissa with her friends, all smiling and waving. He just rolled his eyes, but he saw there was a group of men with them that they had lured in. He supposed it was supposed to make him jealous, but it just made him feel sorry for them.

The guy's eyes kept on wandering onto you, and he was really wondering if this was going to be the third guy he'd have to have a word with for looking at you. It would be a new record. He stared daggers at the guy, but his eyes weren't averting from you.

He was sick of telling people you were his and he was yours. He figured he might as well just show them. You were completely oblivious to it, chatting merrily with Charles and Lando still.

Charles and Lando had clocked that he was staring someone down, and that always proved that he had something up his sleeve. "Baby, c'mere," he said, tugging you onto his lap by your waist. You straddled his thigh, slightly shifting around to get comfortable. 

None of them seemed to get the hint, as the group of them carried on smirking and chatting while still watching you and Carlos. Marissa winked at Carlos, and he just couldn't take it. Without warning, Carlos captured your lips in a heated kiss. 

He pulled you closer to him as your tongues danced in harmony and your hands kept him with you on the sides of his face. He kept on kissing you, barely giving you any room to breathe, but you didn't care. Kissing him was better than oxygen. 

As you continued, you subconsciously rolled your hips against his thigh, and he had to brace his hands on your waist to keep you still. If you carried on like that, it would send him absolutely feral, and that was not what you needed right now. "Sorry," you smirked as you realised what he was doing. 

"Don't be, not for that," he breathed, his heart pounding out of his chest as the group on the other side of the club finally got what you were doing, and finally started minding their own business. 

You noticed a few of the boy's business associated approaching where you were sat, so you went to move from his lap. "No, you're staying right there," he said lowly in your ear, and you were happy to stay there. 

It felt like he was talking to them for hours, and he probably was. They weren't really talking about anything of importance, since you were in public, but it was business enough to become boring. Carlos' work and deals never really interested you, you just cared that he was enjoying himself. 

You yawned, resting your head on his shoulder and nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. You had enjoyed your evening, but you were starting to become a bit weary. "You tired?" Carlos asked quietly. "Just a little bit," you confirmed as his fingers traced up and down your spine. 

"We can go home, Charles and Lando are coming back with us because we've got some stuff we need to talk about, but we can go," he told you.

"It's OK, you can carry on talking to people, I don't mind," you yawned again, still clinging onto him. Sure, it was loud in there, but you didn't really mind. You were safe and comfortable with Carlos, so you weren't really bothered. 

"No, we're going home. My baby is tired, and she is top priority," he said, noticing how your eyes were slightly reddened due to tiredness. You didn't protest, simply letting him stand you on the floor. He said his goodbyes, and walked out with you, Charles and Lando. 

Just as you got out to the pavement, where Michael was waiting for the four of you, you heard a shriek and you audibly groaned. "Carlos! Can you drive me home? I don't have a ride," Marissa appeared, attaching herself to his other arm. 

"Get off me," he said, swatting her away from him like a fly on the wall. 

"What, so you're just going to leave me here, with all of these people who want to take advantage of me?" she cried, scurrying along behind you.

"If it'll get rid of you, then that sounds like the perfect plan," he scoffed, opening the front passenger door for you to get in, but you didn't budge from where you were stood. You weren't the possessive type like Carlos was, since you knew he was completely loyal to you, but Marissa was getting on your nerves. 

"Please? I'll reward you," she hummed, stepping closer to him. You were getting sick of it, and you couldn't hold yourself back. "Get your slutty ass away from my husband, whore," you spat, stepping in between them.  

Marissa's eyes were clouded with darkness as she turned to look at you. "I think you'll find that your husband loves a whore," she countered, closing the gap between the two of you. 

"I'm sure one of those men you were throwing yourself at tonight would love to take you home, but they probably find you insufferable as well," you said, crossing your arms as she got ever more close to you. 

It was as if the events unfolded in slow motion, as her arm raised, ready to bitch slap you in the face. Carlos was quicker though, grabbing her wrist. "You've seen what I've done to people, so don't think I'm scared to add you to the long list of individuals who have fallen to my mercy," he told her, and her face was priceless.

Carlos liked it when people were scared of him, and he especially liked it when the people were people who he thoroughly disliked. "Alright, alright, whatever. Someone else will gladly take me home," she scoffed, walking away.

"Who are you and what have you done with my wife?" Carlos asked, holding the car door open for you again. "Oh I'm still here, she just got on my final nerve. That bitch put her hands on what's mine, and I can't have that," you smirked, hopping in and closing the door behind you. 

He'd love to hear you talk like that more often. He didn't get to see that side of you regularly, but when he did, it made this tiny thing in his brain tick.

Charles, Lando and Carlos all clambered into the back seat as Michael pulled away from the club. The car ride was serene compared to the bustling atmosphere of the club, and it had gotten completely dark outside. 

Once you were home, Charles and Lando went to sit in the living room and Carlos escorted you upstairs. For a second, you just stood in the middle of the room, not mustering up the energy to undress yourself. Carlos knew you too well, his hands finding the zip of your dress. 

"Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling you backwards so that you were closer to him. 

"Yeah," you nodded, appreciating that he was asking, even if he knew you would always say yes. "Thank you," he softly said, tugging the zip all the way down to the small of your back, the garment falling off your body into a pool around your feet. 

"Do you want to put this on for now?" he asked, unhooking your robe from the back of the door. "Yeah, thank you," you said as he slotted your arms through the sleeves and tied the thin belt around your waist. "No problem, baby," he smiled, leading you over to the bed and gently sitting you down on the edge of it. 

Carlos sunk to his knees in front of you, taking your left foot into his hand and slipping your heel off of you. He moved his hands over to the other foot, taking your other heel off. He leant forward, gently kissing the inside of your calf, his lips soft against your skin. 

His lips moved up, to the inside of your knee, then your thigh, before he stood and leant over to kiss you on the forehead. "What do you want to sleep in?" he asked, standing in front of you with his arms folded. 

He had taken his suit jacket off, draping it over a chair in the corner. He had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and he had undone his top two buttons. He looked downright delicious, but you couldn't help but want to see what was underneath the blue cotton. 

It clung to every muscle of his arms and chest, and his cheeks were flushed a slight red due to the alcohol he had drunk. "I want this," you said, tugging at the material of his shirt. Yes, you did want the shirt, but you also wanted an excuse to see his brilliant physique. 

Carlos just chuckled, seeing right through your facade, but he did as you asked anyway. He didn't say anything, he untucked it from his slacks and unbuttoned the rest of it, shrugging it off his shoulders and handing it to you. "Thank you, baby," you smirked, taking it from him. 

You took your robe off and slipped your arms through the rolled up sleeves, only doing a few of the bottom buttons up. As you sat there, you couldn't help but stare at him. Perfectly sculpted muscles under lusciously tanned skin, the perfect combination. And it looked damn good on him.

"If you wanted me shirtless, all you had to do was ask, princess," he teased, a smug smile dancing across his face as he noticed your staring. He was gorgeous, anyone with eyes could see that, but he knew he was. And he knew that his girl knew it too. 

"You're not going to do anymore of those buttons up?" he smirked, not even attempting to hide the fact that he was staring. He would have rather looked without the shirt in his way, but Charles and Lando were downstairs, so he needed to remain calm. 

"No, it's comfier this way," you smiled as he disappeared into the bathroom and reappeared with a pack of makeup wipes in his hand. He sat beside you, gently wiping away the makeup from your face. 

He held your chin with his fingers as he tilted your head up to look at him, making it easier for him to get everything off. "There we go," he softly said, inspecting your face to make sure he had gotten everything. "Can I take these out?" he asked, fingers tapping at the pins in your hair. 

"Yeah, course," you confirmed, tilting your head down this time. He pulled the pins out of place, your hair falling all around your face. Carlos moved to sit behind you, splitting your hair into three strands and plaiting the sections and tying them. 

"There you go, now you are all ready for bed," he smiled as you shuffled over to your side of the bed. He pulled the duvet over your body, kissing you on the forehead. "I'll be up as soon as I can, the stuff with Charles and Lando shouldn't take too long," he told you. 

"No rush, take your time," you mumbled, your eyes falling shut already. Carlos collected another shirt from the wardrobe and turned the lights off. As he walked down the stairs, Charles and Lando saw that he was buttoning up the other shirt he had to get. 

"What were you up to up there, Carlos?" Lando mischievously giggled, leaning forward in his seat. "Now we know why you had to take Y/N upstairs and she couldn't go by herself in her own house," Charles chipped in, also giggling along. 

"If that was the case, I sure as hell wouldn't be back down here with you two. Now, what do you want to drink?" Carlos asked, approaching the drinks trolley that sat in the corner of the room. "Whatever alcoholic substance you'll give me," Lando said, and Carlos poured three glasses of some amber liquid for them.

"Perfect, now let's talk business," Charles smiled, taking his glass and handing one of the others to Lando. "So, transport is sorted, but we might have to make some changes to the personnel carrying it out, since the guys I talked to earlier today are thick as pig shit," Carlos explained.

"I've got the cargo waiting in the port until we send for it to be moved. I've had it all tested and counted every morning and every night since it's been there," Charles told them, and they carried on with their business talk. 

You were still upstairs, tossing and turning. It had felt like hours since you had gotten into bed, but it had only been half an hour when you checked the clock on your bedside table. You had slept without Carlos plenty of times, but tonight was just one of those nights where you didn't want to. 

Carlos had said he wasn't going to be too long, but you thought that the time you were waiting for was starting to constitute as long. There was no use in just waiting for an answer, so you shuffled out of bed and buttoned up your (Carlos') shirt a bit more. 

You padded down the stairs as you heard them talking about yachts or something. Whatever it was, they seemed to have strayed away from business, but you never know. They could have started selling yachts.

"Carlos," Charles alerted him to your presence as you descended. He suddenly didn't have a single brain cell focused on business, he was solely thinking about why you would've come downstairs. One part of his brain started to worry that something was wrong, but you looked fine. 

"Eyes off, boys," he quietly said, Charles and Lando averting their eyes from your shirt-clad figure. They knew how protective and possessive Carlos was with you, and they respected it. He didn't want anyone else seeing his girl the way he did.  "Sorry to be a pest, I was just wondering what time you were coming to bed?" You asked, hoping he would just come up right away, but you weren't expecting anything. "Soon, I promise," he confirmed. He knew you didn't sleep overly well without him.

When he was holding you in his arms as you slept, you felt completely safe and like nothing could possibly harm you. Carlos had promised to protect you until he took his final breath, and you believed him. You had grown so used to being around him all the time, that you never wanted to be away from him. 

"OK, sorry to interrupt again," you apologised, turning away and heading back for the stairs. "Don't be sorry, baby, it's OK," he told you, watching until you disappeared upstairs. Carlos finished up with whatever needed doing, and he said his goodnights to Charles and Lando. 

"So, we've got the shipment moving on Thursday, set to arrive in Madrid on Saturday, and I'll be at the halfway point in Lyon, Carlos will be in Madrid, Lando will be at the start in Prague," Charles confirmed, outlining the basics of the big move that was happening. 

"Yeah, and I'll be meeting you guys in Madrid on the Saturday as well to check up on everything," Lando nodded. Carlos had planned for you two to spend a couple of days in Madrid after everything had happened, and he was looking forward to the days away.

"You guys can hang around for a bit if you want, help yourself to anything and leave whenever," Carlos said, standing from his chair and leaving his glass on the table. Yes, Charles and Lando may have been his business associates, but they were also his closest friends that he trusted, so leaving them in the house wasn't an issue. They all had each other's backs, and were always there when needed. 

"I'm here now, Miss Needy," he teased, opening the bedroom door and closing it behind him. "You didn't have to come up earlier than you planned, you know?" you sighed, rolling to face away from him. You didn't want to see that smug smirk of his, even when it was plastered on his handsome face.

"Well I did. If you want me, you have me at anytime of the day, no matter what, princess. But I know you already know that," he told you, clambering into bed behind you. "Goodnight," he mumbled, instantly feeling tired as he got comfortable.

Carlos wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you as close to him as he possibly could, nuzzling his head into your neck as he softly kissed it. "Goodnight, Carlos," you muttered through that darkness, already feeling more at ease with his mere presence. 

You may have lived in a dark, definitely illegal world, but you wouldn't trade it for anything. Carlos' job was less than desirable to you, but he seemed to enjoy the thrill, so you joined him for the ride, and you always would. 

A/N - OK so I absolutely adored writing this, I don't know if this is very 'mafia', but I still thoroughly enjoyed myself. I don't know why I'm suggesting this, since I'm already really behind on this, but would you want a part 2 in Madrid with some... Mafia drama? I won't elaborate, just lmk! Requests are open, love you! 💖

|masterlist|

[normansnt]

As you've likely seen by now, I've been reblogging nearly every Hazbin fic you have, which I apologize if that bothers you at all. I simply see a lack of the x male reader department for this show, which is ironic considering mostly all the characters are queer and so are the creators. So thank you for what you write and how well you write it! I was hoping I could make a request for a part two of a fic I rather liked "(Vox x bar tander!Male reader)" this one specifically. The reader left off having their soul contract bought and offered to be a bartender at the Vee's private bar, and I was wondering what would happen from there?

HIIIIII

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST

Im really sorry it took so long😭

Also THANK YOU SO MUCH for the reblogs is doesn't bother me at all IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE MY WRITING💗💗

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, I THINK IT TURNED OUT PRETTY GOOD😌

ENJOY READING LOVELY PEOPLE

Warnings: Attempted Rape, violance V@lentino

Habit of saving

as a thank you pt.2

Vox x bartender!male reader

"I just dont fucking understand why the fuck you prefer the company of a lowly bartender over mine"

You hear Valentino's yelling from the other room, again.

This was not uncommon. Since you became the bartender in the Vees manor Vox visited the bar more often than before.

You guys spent hours talking and just because of the drinks either, he barely drunk anything cuz he was busy talking to you.

However, this of course annoyed Valentino. He wanted Vox's attention purely on himself.

"I don't." Said Vox, you know, like a lier.

"Work has just been really stressful lately and I need more drinks than before."

This was all lies. But Vox was not in the mood to be taking Valentino's shit, he would much rather go get a drink with you.

"Bullshit, I know how your work is and you blame everything on it, you dont even want to fuck me anymore are you a fucking moron do you know how many people want to get with ME."

And here he goes again. Vox was a little embarrassed though. It was true that since you arrived he was never in the mood to do it with Val, but he found himself having much more sex dreams with you.

He got red at the thought of that.

"You know what, I don't fucking care, go be happy with your boy toy; but don't you dare forget that you are where you are because of me." Ended the Argument Valentino as he grabbed a bottle from above your head, and walked out of the room.

You were silent during the whole argument. You knew it was not smart to start defending Vox you tried that once and, well, Vox had to stich you up afterwards.

"Care for a drink, sir?" You asked Vox. He was still, just standing in the middle of the room looking at the door.

He felt weird. Well, not weird, happy. But that was strange. Usually he felt guilty or annoyed when Valentino stormed off after a fight, usually he wanted to go after him. But not now. Now he felt...calm. Relieved even. He really wanted to sit down and have that drink with you.

"Yes, I would love a drink, and I've told you multiple times to call me Vox."

"Yeah I know but I didn't want to risk Val still hearing it." You chuckled.

"So, the usual, Vox?"

"Obviously." He answered back.

"Are you ok?" You asked as you poured his drink. You two were close enough for this not to be an awkward question. You were the bartender, you have comforted him after a night of drunken crying and put him to bed multiple times. He always asked you to stay. You never did. You just didn't feel ready yet.

"Getting better by the day, his antics don't affect me as strongly anymore." He commented calmly.

"I'm glad." You gave him his drink and you two continued talking.

And you talked, long into the night. Vox got a bit drunk again.

"All right mister I think it's time to get you to bed." You said smiling softly as you were about to jump from behind the bar and help him to his room.

"I can take care of him." Came a creepy calm voice from the door way. You saw Valentino.

He had a fake smile on his face. You knew this was trouble but he was kind of your boss.

"All right, sir." You just answered quietly, as Val took Vox and started to take him to his room.

"What-no, you-- (Y/N)--I, don't"

Vox mumbled drunken.

When they left the room you had a silent debate with yourself.

Yes Val was your boss. But you knew that taking advantage of someone while they're drunk was not below him.

"Fuck it" you mumbled to yourself as you jumped from behind the bar and tried to quietly run after them.

Thankfully you found them when they were about to enter the room.

When they got in you made sure to put your foot between the door and the frame so it doesn't close.

You peered into the room and you saw Val throw Vox onto the bed.

"You fucking whore, you couldn't keep your hands of the cute bartender boy could you."

He started angrily as he stepped onto Vox's screen, breaking it. You already wanted to barge in there when you saw this but when he started unbuckling his belt, thats when you snapped.

You jumped on Val, literally. And while the man might be powerful he had close to no muscles so he crumbled under you.

You knew you had close to no chance of winning. But you didn't care. You had to save Vox.

You tried to cut off Val's breathing by holding onto his neck for dear life. You might have been physically stronger he was still an overlord. A very powerful one.

You expected to be thrown down onto the floor any minute when the struggling finally stopped.

Your eyes opened widely as you hurriedly got off of Valentino.

You started panicking. What the fuck did you just kill an overlord? No, no there is no way he is so powerful why didn't he stop you.

You kneeled down and checked for a heart beat.

When you felt faint beating a boulder fell off your shoulder.

"Thank fuck" you commented to yourself. He probably just passed out.

But still why didn't he stop you.

You thought about it a but when it hit you. He was probably batshit drunk himself. You saw that when he walked away from the bar he barely managed to walk straight.

You were still panting.

You looked over at Vox and a strong feeling of sadness filled you.

You stepped over Vals passed out form and lifted up Vox.

He was lighter than you thought. You carried him all the way to your room where you knew you had a first aid kit.

Sure you could have just bring the first aid kit to him but you were not going to leave him alone with Valentino jot even for a second. Not even when they're both passed out.

After you put Vox's screen back together and batched him up you laid him down onto your bed.

This gave you time to think things through.

Even you couldn't explain to yourself why you cared about Vox this much.

Its true you have become very close during your time working here.

But there are people who you have known longer yet do not love as much as him.

...love?

You love him?

"(Y/N)"

While you were occupied with your thought you didn't notice the time. It was morning already.

"Yeah, Vox?"

"What the fuck happened?" He asked as he started touching his patched up screen.

You told him everything. You also told him that you will very likely have to leave because once Val wakes up...you don't want to know what he'll do to you.

"He can't do anything your soul is mine you are under my protection." He said firmly. He sat silently after that. Like someone who is contemplating something.

"Can I ask you something?"

He asked after a long silence.

"Of course"

"Why did you save me?"

This surprised you.

"Well, I mean I know what Val is like and...I just did what any normal person would do really-"

"No. You know no one in hell would to that for the demon that owns their soul. Not to mention this was the second time you saved me."

"...I honestly don't know why I did it the first time; I guess I just felt like...I dont know"

"And the second time."

You couldn't answer this. You knew the answer but you didn't want to say it.

"Well, you are a nice boss you treat me with kindness and-"

"No one would attack a powerful overlord just to safe their boss who is just 'nice'; try answering truthfully this time."

Well fuck. You knew Vox was a smart man but that didn't help you in this situation.

"I..." you didn't know what to do. You could come up with another lie but he would detect it no problem.

"I love you" you blurted out before you could stop yourself. The moment the words left your lips you smacked your hands onto your lips.

"I'm sorry sir I will leave-"

Vox took your hand in his when you wanted to stand up and pulled you towards him.

With one swift movement he placed his lips on your in a tender kiss.

You have never kissed a screen before but you were pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be like this.

His lips were soft but cold. It was an amazing kiss.

"Oh, you're not going anywhere." Said Vox while he let out a little chuckle.

"Because I love you too."