#and look. I am VERY resistant to bad smells.

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Chapter 6 - Everything I Do

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Sam Winchester/Reader (platonic), light fluff, mutual pining, light angst, love confession, smut (handjob, fingering, p in v sex), Dean's got the Mark of Cain, uh oh.

Summary/Warnings: The Mark reaches a breaking point. Usual Warnings, little angst, lotta smut.

Author's Note: I am of the firm belief Rowena would’ve said cunt religiously if the CW wasn’t full of a bunch of pussies.

Chapter title from Video Games by Lana Del Ray

Word Count: 8.7k

Read on A03!

Chapter 5

Dean can breathe. Not easily, but he can. He can feel the weight of something airy and thin wrapped around him, stuck to his skin and far too heavy. There’s a hand on his brow, and it’s not the right one. Dean’s not sure what the right one would even be, but he knows it’s not this one. This one feels a little wrinkled, and the nails are too long, and it doesn’t satiate the betterlust. It’s just there, pressed to his skin like it’s looking for something and not all too pleased with what it finds.

The longer it’s there, the more the betterlust pounds and stabs and scrapes at him. Rots his guts and carves open his skull and rips through his chest. It’s searching for something that’s not there, and Dean’s head is too clouded with pain and ache and sickness to figure out where he should even be looking. Not in the hand. Not in the thing around him like a shroud–hot and clinging to him like a plague—but maybe somewhere close. Because wherever Dean is—he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t have enough of a brain to guess right now—it’s unfamiliar, but feels right. He’s lying on something soft, and it smells good, and when his fingers flex, they’re tracing over an impression left on the area next to him. An indent left on the space by something that could curve and press into Dean exactly like he wants. Craves. Needs. 

The betterlust starts to flare and bellow, almost drowning out the low voices around him, and Dean knows he might die if he doesn’t find what fits into that impression and take it.

“How long has he been like this?”

“I’m not sure, a few hours?”

“Well can you try to be sure, Samuel?”

“I got here the same time you did, how am I supposed to be sure-“

“Ask our resident Dean Expert, the poor girl has been stuck with him all week-“

“No, I’m not going to make her do more. And, uh,” there’s a long sigh, and Dean still isn’t really sure what’s going on, or who these people are, or why they’re talking about him. “I don’t think it’s safe for her right now. To be around him. He said he didn’t want her-“

“He obviously lied, you idiotic boy-“

“He didn’t want her to know, Rowena. And it’s not my place to tell her-“

“She’s a big girl, she’ll survive a little bit of emotions.”

“He’d, he’d fucking kill me-“

“And he will kill himself if he does not accept what he needs! It’s quite honestly a miracle he was a stubborn enough arse to resist the Mark’s demands this long.”

Dean’s really fucking confused. There are two voices, one that sounds a little like his and one that very much doesn’t, and they’re both talking about him like he’s important. He doesn’t feel important. He mostly just feels tired, and bad, and sick. Sweaty and hungry and desperate for something he can’t name, but they say he needs to name or he’ll die, and he doesn’t even really know what names are right now-

“If I tell her, this becomes her responsibility-“

“Well, Dearie, I wasn’t aware you were stupid and blind-“

“Hey-“

“You cannot look me in the eyes and say that she would not welcome the responsibility, boy. She is so pathetically obsessed with him it makes me feel ill.”

Dean felt his mouth try to frown—he can’t figure out how to move, so it more of a twisted grimace—as he racked his mush of a brain to figure out who they could possibly be referring to. He couldn’t remember names, but he could remember presences. Remember that the voice like his was good, and he was supposed to protect it. The voice that wasn’t like his was bad, and kind of a bitch, but helpful when they ran out of options. There wasn’t a third voice, but there was a smell that he really liked. Loved. Craved. Needed-

That was the imprint. And it wasn’t here right now, but the betterlust and already spiraling around it and constricting his lungs as he tried to find it. He needed it, and it didn’t need him, and he was going to die-

“I know,” the familiar voice sighed. “Believe me, I know, but I can’t ask that of her-“

“She’ll shred your sorry arse apart if you don’t-“

“And Dean will put a bullet through my brain if I do!”

“He will die before he gets the chance. Have I not made it clear that, unless Dean receives the help our lovely, pretty, lovesick-“

Then the voice that wasn’t like Dean’s said a name, and the betterlust exploded inside him. He knew that name. He’d die and kill and cut himself to pieces for that name. He wanted it. He couldn’t have it. He needed it, more than he needs air or water or food or music. The betterlust demanded it, and was shredding apart his insides because he refused to take it, but was also lending him the strength to find it. To find Her. Dean needed to fucking find Her, or nothing would ever be good again-

His eyes fly open, and for a long movement everything is only a blinding blur of color. There’s noise around him—both voices shouting words that sound like they’re for him but he can’t understand—and Dean’s brain kicks into a vigilant, borderline feral function as he hauls himself up, something pushes him back down, and the betterlust grew feral.

“Rowena, grab the other arm-“

“I am not meant for brute labor, Samuel-“

“Are you fucking kidding me-“

Dean roars Her name clawing and grabbing at the air to try and go, try to get to Her, because he was going to fucking die, and the betterlust told him She could fix this, make this better, make Dean better-

“Oh for- Fine.” 

The voice not like Dean’s says something he can’t understand, his whole body tightens. Like a weight has been dropped on his chest, and ropes have been wrapped around his limbs, forcing him to collapse back onto the bed with a noise that might have been a whine.

“Dean.” Rowena appears in his vision, her face drawn in annoyance. “Blink twice if you understand me.”

Dean scowls, but blinked twice.

“Good. Are you going to try and kill us again?��

Dean glowers at Rowena, keeping his eyes wide open in a gesture of no, and she sighs.

“Good boy. I’ll let you up, but if you ever try and grab my hair again, I’ll make you regret having hands, aye?”

The tension vanishes from Dean’s body, and he sits up slowly, pinch the bridge of his nose to try and curb the pounding ache behind his eyes, taking deep, mechanical breathes to get some fucking control over his body. Over the betterlust. Over himself.

“Dean, are you feeling okay?“

Sam looks worried. He’s frowning and scanning over Dean with concern, like there will be wound on his skin they can patch up to fix this. 

But only one thing can fix this. And Dean still isn’t strong enough to not know where She is, not when all he can remember is dragging himself to Her room, and hearing her voice, and seeing her pretty face before it all went dark. 

Dean mutters Her name, his voice low and gruff, and Sam and Rowena freeze. “Where is she.”

“She’s eating.” Sam mutters, bracing his hands on his hips. “I told her to get some rest. You freaked her out, dude, she-“ Sam shakes his head, giving Dean a look he doesn’t understand, and doesn’t have the energy to try and decipher. “She was really shaken, when we got back. She needs-“

“She needs you.” Rowena interrupts Sam, and he shoots her a venomous glare. “You’re too much of a meat-headed dolt to see it, but that darling girl looked as if she’d been devastated over you.” 

“Rowena.” Sam hisses. “We agreed-“

“You agreed. I made no promises-“

Dean raises his hands—they both need to shut up, or his skin will fly off his body—and their argument stutters off.

“How bad is it.” He looks to Rowena, the moment alone an act of labor. “And don’t try to lie or sugarcoat it. How long I got.”

Rowena sighs. “If you insist on keeping your head up your own arse, a day. Maybe two.”

“But we’re going to try to reverse it.” Sam jumps in, his voice desperate. “And Rowena gave you something to keep you going-“

“But, as I told your brother,” Rowena’s words are harsh, and Dean appreciates it. This really isn’t the fucking time for dancing around anything. “It is a very temporary solution, and the reversal will take time you no longer have. There is an obvious fix to your little problem-“

Dean lets out a dry chuckled. “My problem? Last I checked, Rowena, you were the one who fucked this up-“

“I did not fuck anything up, you petulant man child-“

“Rowena-“

“No!” Rowena cuts off Sam with sharp words, holding Dean’s glare. “I did my job, Dean Winchester, but you are too much of an arrogant, brooding little cunt to do yours.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “Watch it, bitch-“

“I did not have to help you,” Rowena hisses. “But that poor, desperate, lovesick woman begged me to. You know exactly what you need, and you are too cruel and stupid to do it.”

Dean’s hands curl into fists on the sheets. “I said fucking watch it-“

“She’s right.” Sam mutters, and Dean’s gaze whips to him, his mouth falling open at Sam’s pitying, exhausted expression.

“I’m sorry, I must be going insane, because there’s no fucking way you just sided with Rowena-“

“I didn’t side with her.” Sam snaps, running a hand over his face as he shakes his head. “I’m just trying to get you to think for five seconds. I’m trying not to lose my brother because he can’t see what’s right in front of him-“

Dean scoffs. “There’s nothing in front of me, Sam. Rowena botched the spell, and now I can’t do anything but-“ He cuts himself off with a groan, a stab of pain twisting over his ribs, and Sam throws his hands in the air.

“For crying out loud, Dean, you’re dying because of this self-righteous, sacrificial bullshit you always pull! Rowena didn’t botch the spell, you’re just refusing to give the Mark what it wants, and until you do-“

“It doesn’t matter what I want!” Dean roars, slamming a hand down on the mattress. “Fuck, Sam, I’m not going to force myself onto her just because-“

“Because you think she’ll say no?” Sam rolls his eyes. “Dude, you can’t be stupid enough to really believe that-“

Dean scowls. They don’t fucking get it. Sam and Rowena don’t know Her like Dean does. They don’t understand that She would say yes, but she wouldn’t really want it, and Dean would stain and mark Her in a way that they’d never come back from. She’d never smile at him the same, and he’d have to die alone in the dirt when she finally got the memo that he wasn’t worth helping. When She left him, her soul more tainted than when she’d found him. When his poison sunk into Her skin, and she would still be so pretty and amazing, but ruined and marred from Dean’s touch. From how weak and pathetic and toxic he was. 

He couldn’t do that. He’d rather fucking die.

“Just drop it, Sammy.” Dean mutters, his gaze falling to that imprint of Her on the bed. Her bed. Dean was finally in Her bed, and he didn’t even get to enjoy it. “It’s not happening. And you’re not going to convince me, so either fix this, or let me die without goddamn yelling at me.”

There’s a moment of wired silence, Rowena silent in the corner of the room as Sam and Dean glare at each other, and Sam shakes his head like he can’t believe Dean’s nerve. Like Dean isn’t saving the only good thing they both have. Protecting the only person that’s stayed with them, that they both love, even if Dean’s love is made of undying, animalistic, grime and dirt covered devotion, and Sam’s is purer, softer affection that could never cut and scar Her like Dean’s. 

“She was crying.” Sam finally says, his tone colder than Dean’s heard it in a long time. “When we got back, she was sobbing, Dean. Have you ever seen her cry? Ever?”

He hasn’t. Dean has seen Her grit her teeth and bite back sounds of agony from injuries, seen Her scream and flail when they’ve lost people, and seen Her so angry it scared him a little, but he’s never seen Her cry. She didn’t cry. Her eyes got glossy, and her voice grew tight and choked, but she didn’t cry. Sam has to be lying, and he doesn’t look or sound like he is, but he has to be. She doesn’t cry, so why the hell would that be the truth? But why would Sam lie, and why has She stayed this long, and fuck, everything hurts and Dean’s too damn tired to figure out what the hell Sam is trying to tell him but the betterlust is scratching at his heart to know-

“Sam,” Dean swallows, watching his brother carefully. “I-“

There’s a knock at the door, and everything in Dean flies to the sound. It’s Her. Before Sam’s hand is even on the doorknob, Dean somehow knows it’s Her. Here. Maybe for him, maybe not, but the betterlust doesn’t seem to care because it’s Her-

She looks horrible. Still so fucking pretty, but horrible. There’s a slump to Her posture as she stands in the door—hair tangled and shirt wrinkled—and Her gorgeous face is slightly puffed. Her lips pouting. Her eyes lined with red. 

Like She’s been crying. 

Sam says Her name in question, and when She speaks her voice is hoarse.

“Look, I know you to told me to rest, but-“ Her mouth falls open as her eyes land on Dean, and Her sharp inhale feels like it shoots adrenaline right into his blood. 

He tries to offer Her a winning, I’d be happy to see me too smile, but it doesn’t feel right on his face. It feels too vulnerable, where it’s always been like a shield. It feels like it’s a lie, or trick, or act of cruelty when Dean’s rarely met a woman who doesn’t flush and giggle under that attention. It’s supposed to make him feel good from their happy, hopeful eyes. It’s supposed to make them feel good from Dean’s well-crafted, carefully wielded charm.

But right now he still just feels like shit. Bottom of the gutter, horrible, flea-ridden and matted shit. A fucking piece of shit that might have made Her cry, and isn’t even smart enough to know why.

He tries again, making the smile wider, adding his most casual drawl. “Hey, Sweetheart-“

She makes a strangled sound—loud and pained, making the betterlust start to snap at Dean’s brittle spine—and all but runs to the bed, almost falling to Dean’s side as Her hands begin to grab at his face and run over his skin. Angling him for Her to examine with frantic eyes and words, igniting little paths of insatiable fire wherever She touches.

“Are you okay?!” She turns his head to the side, her fingers tracing his jaw and cheek like boils or scars might have just appeared. “Your fever is gone,” the back of Her hand presses to his brow, flipping to touch it with Her palm. “But shit, you’re covered in sweat-“ Her glare whips around to Sam, Her grip still tight on Dean’s face. He doesn’t really mind. The betterlust is still trying to climb out of his throat, but he can fight it—for Her—and this can be enough. It’s all he’ll get before he’s gone anyway. Her touch, and loud almost furious shout at Sam. “Why didn’t you change the sheets like I told you to-“

“He was dead weight,” Sam says Her name, his voice a hell of a lot kinder than when he’d been talking to Dean. “And you also told us to make sure he got some rest. Rowena said the fever broke, and he’s lucid again-“

“But this is gross Sam, and you could’ve moved him if you tried-“

“Moved him where? He started freaking whimpering when we took away your comforter-“ 

Dean scowls. “Can you guys stop talkin’ about me like I’m not right fucking here-“

Her gaze turns back to Dean, the odd, aggressively mind-numbing panic and care returning to her eyes as she begins to examine him once more. 

“You seem better, but you’re redder than you should be, and, shit, was that scar always there-“

Her finger’s trial over Dean’s chin, dangerously close to his mouth, and he has to bite down a groan as he says Her name. “That’s been there at least a decade-“

“What about this one-“

“Three years, you were there when I got it-“

“Fuck, you’re right.” She shakes her head, Her eyes suddenly boaring into Dean’s and settling warmth in his gut. “Well, are you feeling okay? Does anything hurt, or feel sick, or feel numb-“

“Sweetheart.” He catches Her hand, and she falls silent with wide eyes. “I’m-“

“And,” She moves his gaze onto Her’s, and fuck She’s always so pretty. Even when She’s pissed at him. Especially when She’s pissed at him. “Don’t you dare fucking lie to me, Winchester, I’ll stab you-“

He chuckles, and it’s dry and low, but maybe the realest sound he’s made since he woke up. “I don’t doubt that, Sweetheart.” He drawls, and she lets his guide Her hands away from his face. “But I promise, I’m feelin’ better.”

She nods slowly, and Dean pretends he can’t see Sam’s eye roll in the background.

“Oh. Okay.” She turns at Sam and Rowena, her voice slightly unsteady and weak. “Have you, um, have you both been in here? The whole time I was eating?”

Sam nods. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” She swallows, and Dean notices Her body go slightly rigid. Sam must notice too, because he tilts his head and frowns at her.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just…” She trails off, staring at her nails as her voice drop to a mumble. “There’s a lot of people in here. Makes me nervous.”

“Shit, sorry.” Sam says Her name, his voice apologetic. “Didn’t know that. We can go, if you want.”

There’s a long moment where She’s just staring at Sam, Her mouth slightly open, and her body curled in on itself like she’d been punched. Sam repeats Her name, his voice cautious, and when She snaps out of it, her voice is still soft and anxious. 

“That would be good.” She whispers. “Thank you.”

Sam nods. “No problem. Me and Rowena,” he shoots the witch a glare, and she rolls her eyes. “Are gonna go try to fix this. Text me if you need anything, either of you.”

She hums an acknowledgment, Her attention never leaving Dean as Sam and Rowena close the door, and Dean’s whole existence begins to curve into only the feeling of Her as her fingers trace over the back of his hand. 

After a long moment of silence—only the sound of Dean’s heart in his ears and the shifting of blankets under their bodies—she swallows, her voice barely a breath. “They can’t fix it, can they.”

He blinks at Her. “They’re gonna get it-“

“Don’t lie to me, Dean.” She gives him a soft smile that makes her look like she’s already grieving, and something in him lights up and withers away in the same second. “Please.”

He swallows. He is really tired of lying to Her. And he can say something closer to the truth and still hold his ground. He’s not quite that weak. Not yet.

“It’ll be close.” He grunts. “But I’ve survived worse. I just gotta pull through-“

“You don’t, though.” She whispers. “Rowena said you just have to-“

“Rowena can eat me.” Dean mutters, glaring at the door. “I’m not doin’ whatever the hell the Mark tells me to, that was the fucking point of this.”

“The point was to help you, Dean.” She sounds so freaking sad, and it’s pulling Dean apart. His will and mind all being reduced to Her. Too good and pretty to be sad. And it’s just Dean. She shouldn’t be this sad over only Dean.

“Sweetheart-“

“I don’t,” She swallows, speaking over Dean with quiet, soft words. “I don’t know why you’re being such an ass, Dean. Why can’t you just do what the betterlust wants? Isn’t it what you want-“

“It is.” Dean has to push the words through his teeth, because She so close and it’s not close enough and everything fucking hurts. “But I can’t have it, so we’re dead in the water. But Sammy and Rowena-“

“Dean.”

He can’t look Her in the eyes. Her voice is so gentle and nervous, and he’s not strong enough to look Her in the eyes and see all that worry and pity in them. He can barely even grunt an acknowledgment for her to continue.

“What do you want?”

“I’m not gonna-“

“Is it me?” She whispers, and Dean’s eyes shoot to Her’s. He can’t breathe. He can’t do anything but stare at Her and try not to die as he realizes this is it. This is how he loses Her. Forever. This is the last time he gets to look at Her and bask in her beauty and kindness, the last time he gets to drown in the smell of cherries and feel a little more alive under Her touch.

But She doesn’t look afraid, or disgusted. She just looks urgent. Desperate. As confused and hopelessly hopeful as Dean feels.

And he can’t speak, or think, or do anything but stare at Her as she speaks again.

“Dean, do you,” She takes a shaking breath, and Dean needs to touch Her. “Do you love me?”

——————

He’s not saying anything. Dean’s looking at you like you’ve shot him right through his heart, ripped it out, and taken a bite. Gaping like he’s trying to ask you for it back but can’t find the breath to, blinking like he’s trying to test if you’re really there. He reaches a hand up to run over his own face, reaches out to touch you—trace broad, calloused fingers over your cheekbones and jaw, over your chin like he’s wiping something you can’t see away—and jerks back suddenly, like you’d hurt him. Burned him. Branded him.

He’s branded you. You’re never going to forget his voice in your head, sounding like he’s overdosed on something awful, and doesn’t think he’ll come back down. Like he’s trying to cleanse himself of something by whispering words that will either haunt you past the grave or feed you for the rest of your life. Your heart will never forget the way it stopped for only a second before kicking into a pace that was all too fast when Dean’s eyes closed, and your hands will always remember the cold fever of his skin.

“Dean.” You have to make your voice strong. Steady, like you’re demanding something from him and not praying to him. “Please-“

“Why-“ His voice is hoarse, almost strangled, and it makes your every muscle feel a little weaker. “Why would you ask that.”

“I’m, I can’t tell you, just please answer me-“

“Did Sam tell you-“

“Sam?” You frown, shaking your head slightly. “No, I just, this has nothing to do with Sam-“

“Then why the hell are you-“

“What would Sam have told me?”

Dean falls silent, opening and closing his mouth as he goes red, his eyes looking almost feral. He looks like a cornered animal, something starved and needy, unsure if it should bite the hand reaching for it or grab it and never let go. 

You want to hold him and never let go. You want him to grab your hand, and hold it, and never think to drop it again. You want to hear him say those words again, and have his voice be certain. You want to touch him, no matter if he’s like this or breaking or furious or—in those rare, priceless moments—happy. And you need to know. Dean’s never owed you anything, and he never will, but if there’s only one thing that he can offer you in universe, it would be really nice if it was this. If Dean ever gives you anything, please, dear God, let it be this. 

“Dean,” you whisper, moving your hand to his knee and holding his almost fearful, rabid gaze. “Please answer me. Tell me what Sam-“

“He,” Dean swallows, voice gruff. “He wasn’t supposed to say anything. He fucking swore he’d never-“

“He didn’t.” You repeat, unsure if he’s even understanding the words out of your mouth. “All I’ve talked to Sam about is the spell. But why-“

“Rowena.” He mutters, and it sounds like he’s mostly talking to himself. “Rowena must’ve open her bitch mouth-“

“I haven’t really talked to Rowena at all-“

“Must’ve been some fucking spell-“

“Dean!” You scream, your nails digging into his leg like you can hold him with you forever. “It was you! You told me you loved me! You had a fever and you told me you loved me, you said my name, and I just,” Your voice cracks, desperation starting to break through your blood, out of your mouth in spit. “I need to know, please, you need to tell me if you meant it-“

“Sweetheart-“

“Please.” You refuse to look him in the eyes. The moment you look in Dean’s deep, pretty eyes you’ll know what he’s thinking, and you’ll lose him forever. Everything in you is screaming to know, but you’re still not able to just look into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, please tell me.”

“Why.”

For a second you’re not sure if you heard him right. The question startles you enough to make you look up, and the moment you see him something snaps inside of you. He looks wounded. Nervous. Almost as afraid of you—of your words, and what they might be capable of doing to him if you use them wrong—as you are of him.

“Why would you need to know.” He rasps, staring at his own hands. Flexing in his lap, seemingly against his will. “You’re not- It’s not somethin’ you’re-“ He looks up to you, his eyes almost pleading. “Why would you give a shit about-“

“About you?”

Dean’s throat bobs, his nod short, and you summon more bravery than you’ve ever been capable of before. Enough to reach out, over the space between your bodies that so small—but still feels like miles—and place your hand on his cheek. Keeping his gaze on yours.

“I always care about you. I-” You take a shaking breath, the last words falling off your tongue. “I love you.”

Dean’s hand shoots up to cover yours. To hold you against him, with a grip that tells you he might be trying to sear his skin into yours. 

“You-“ His voice is so soft. His hand over yours is like iron, but everything else about him seems to be dreamlike. Hazy and uncertain, both of you watching each other like you’re sure the other will vanish if you look away. “You love me?”

“Yeah,” you try to smile at him, and it’s not charismatic. It’s pleading and tragic and so fucking delicate. “I do. I mean, I have. For a while.”

“How-“

“Four years.“

He blinks at you. “No, I, I meant-“ He swallows, shaking his head. “I meant how. How did that happen.”

It’s your turn to frown at him. “How did that happen?”

“You shouldn’t love me.” He mutters, his hand over yours flexing. Like he’s trying to pull it away but doesn’t know how. “It’ll get you hurt.”

You raise your brows slightly, running your thumb over his cheek. “Are you going to hurt me?”

Dean’s eyes narrow. “That’s not what I-“

“Are you?”

“Of course not, I’d never-“

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter why-“

“It does.” You whisper, folding your legs under you to rise on your knees, dropping your brow to his. Holding his gaze the whole time. “It matters to me, Dean.“

He makes a choked sound, but doesn’t move away. “Why?”

“Because I love you.” You whisper. “And it would be really cool if you loved me.”

Dean’s only staring at you, his eyes flicking between your own, slightly blurred gaze that can still see him so well, and your lips. 

“And it happened,” you push on, your voice growing a little weak when he still doesn’t respond. “Because it’s really easy to love you, Dean Winchester. You’re a good man.” You offer him a smile, and his own mouth falls open just a little. “And even if you don’t love me, I wouldn’t have you any other-“

Something in Dean’s eyes flickers, and he moves before you’re sure what’s happening. Yanking you into his lap with his hand—fingers now tangled in yours—catching you with an arm around your waist, and kissing you. 

Kissing you. Dean’s kissing you. 

Your body sparks into action—even as your brain becomes fogged with a hazy, Dean-shaped lust—and you fist a hand into his shirt, pulling him as close as the world will allow. He’s holding you so carefully, leaning down in a slight dip, and there could be a storm raging around you instead of the soft, romantic rain this feels like it belongs to, but you wouldn’t know. Because this is a kiss people wage wars over. 

It’s louder than music in your ears and electric in your blood, but sparks isn’t a strong enough word. It’s like lightning. Shooting through your spine and lighting up every nerve in your body to Dean. Soft lips molding perfectly into yours, warm and calloused hands skillfully mapping over your skin, a groan down your throat that you can feel settle in your lower gut and start a wildfire.  You’ve been hungry and you’ve never dared to eat, but Dean is here now and you’ll either be starved for the rest of your life or never want for anything again.

When Dean tries to pull away, you just follow him. Chase after his lips with yours, trying to get just a little more before this all comes tumbling down. Before the thought can even dare to cross Dean’s mind—that he’s not good for you, and he should go—because this is all you’ve ever wanted and you’ll be damned if you don’t cling to it for as long as he’ll allow. You’ll fall all the way down, until your body is only supported by Dean below you, and you’ll forsake oxygen until your body demands it. Maybe a little while after, too. 

And Dean doesn’t seem to care to let you go. Every time he tries to pull back it’s a jerked movement, and every time you collide again he grows more and more feral. His groans turn into deep, animalistic growls, and his touch on your skin becomes rough. Not painful, never painful, but urgent. Uncontrolled. Pulling at your skin like he’s trying to meld it into his, kissing you with bruising force, bucking up into you with his hard cock brushing your inner thighs. 

You grind down onto him once—when he hits closer to where you’re beginning to ache for him, and your own need grows stronger than you’re desire to let Dean control this��and he bites you. Dean catches your lip between his teeth, sucks in into his mouth, and grins like he’s won a prize when you whine a plea of his name.

“Holy shit,” he mutters your name, pressing his brow to yours as you both catch your breath, grabbing your waist to stop the next roll of your hips. “I’m not- I can’t do this to you-“

“You’re not doing anything to me,” you whisper. “I love you. I want this.”

Dean catches your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles and staring at the movement, his voice so low you almost don’t hear it. “Say you’re lying.”

You blink at him, and shake your head. “No.”

His eyes flash, shooting back to yours as he grunts your name. “You need to say you’re lyin’ right now, or I’ll-“

“You’ll what?” You lower your face back down, until you’re sharing Dean’s every breath. “Fuck me? Actually say you want me?”

His throat bobs, voice rough with lust. “You, I can’t fucking control it, sweetheart, if you’re fuckin’ with me you need to take it back now-“

“Dean.” You grab his face between your hand, forcing his darkened gaze back to yours. “Answer my fucking question.”

He shakes his head weakly. “You don’t-“

“I love you.” You hiss. You need to make sure he feels it, in the slightly spit on his face, that still tastes a little like him because it’s pushed through lips that are swollen from Dean, and Dean alone. You glide a hand down his chest, the kiss apparently fueling something bold inside you that hadn’t been there before. Your fingers trace down, over his abdomen—hardened from work but still soft in all the best places—and Dean takes in a sharp breath, his hands on your hips tightening enough to leave a mark, and you lean back. Just enough to open space between your bodies, just enough for you to palm him through his sweatpants.

He’s huge, and twitching under your careful, light fingers, and God, you need him inside of you in any fucking way—between your hands or filling your mouth or buried deep into your cunt—but Dean’s still just staring at you. His chest heaving, eyes so dark and wanting you might cum just from his attention, and nostrils flaring as you move your hand up, resting right over the hem of his pants. 

“I love you, Dean,” you whisper, the rush of confidence barreling down as you wait for him to do anything. “And you need to tell me now that you don’t love me, or-“ you take a long breath, dragging up the last bit of your nerve. “You need to say you love me, and do something about it.”

Something shatters in Dean’s gaze for the last time, and whatever war he’s been waging with himself reaches a brutal end as he surges back up, kissing you with all spit and bloody need. Like you’re the best thing he’s ever dared to have on his tongue, and he might be trying to chew off a bit of you to keep.

He won’t need to. He has you. He’s had you for a while, and when he leans back to watch you with glazed, hungry eyes, his words seal some deep, fragile part of you to him forever.

“I love you,” Dean grunts your name, scanning over your face like he’s afraid the words will yank you from his hands. They won’t. “I need you. I gotta have you, but I’m- I’m not in control of it right now-“

“I can take it.” You push your hand into Dean’s sweats, taking his cock in your hand. He groans, eyelids fluttering, and when you run your thumb over the head of him—pressing into the weeping slit and squeezing just so lightly—he hisses your name like a prayer. “Please, Dean. I want it. Please.” 

You pull down his pants with your free hand, taking his boxers with them, and start to slowly pump your hand up and down his impressive length. There will be bruising marks of Dean’s hands of your hips for a while, but you’ll survive. It’s worth it, to watch him unravel below you, to see Dean’s pretty eyes grow glazed with lust for you, feel his dick throb and hips jerk under your touch, hear his low growls and grunts as his jaw clenches and he doesn’t pull you away.

“God,” he moans your name, and you start to squirm above him, desperate for a bit of your own relief. “I wanna- Wanna taste you. Fuck you. Ruin you-“

“So do it,” you slip your other hand down—trusting Dean’s hold to keep you upright—and squeeze his balls. “You say you love me, Dean, but you haven’t proved it-“

The words do exactly what you’d wanted them to. Dean yanks your hand from around him, crashes his lips into yours with a fervor that might have been dangerous if it didn’t taste and sound and feel like Dean, and lets go. 

His every movement is rough and uncontrolled, because his tether over every bit of will that had seemed to keep him restrained is gone, and in its wake is only the Mark. All its lust and fury and hunger, primal and focused on you. On taking what it wants.

And you’d give it to him, even if it left a few marks on your skin and bruising on your heart, but you realize that the Mark doesn’t seem to just want to use you. If it did, Dean wouldn’t be sucking on your neck and moaning at the taste of your skin, all while tracing big, warms hands around your body to palm your breasts. He wouldn’t allow you to grind onto him, or whimper his name, or scratch at his skin as he pulls you apart with barely anything at all. When he flips your over without any effort—only a low grunt and flex of his muscles—you feel like the most priceless bag of flour in the word. Perfect to be tossed around like that forever, but worth more to him—more the Mark—than just another body.

And you can’t see him anymore, but you don’t need to. You hear the sounds of him shuffling behind you, the muffled noise of his shirt being tossed onto the floor, and then his voice. Low and feral and saying your name in a way that makes your knees weak. 

“Up.” He grunts, and you whine when he angles your hips up and pulls down your shorts, you already wet cunt being hit by the cold air. “So fuckin’ pretty, gonna ruin you, baby. You’re never gonna even think about a cock that’s not mine again-“

You nod a little stupidly, wiggling your ass back into him and moaning when his still-clothed erection presses right into you. “Fuck, Dean, please-“

He spanks your pussy—just once the stinging pleasure shooing up your spine—and you bury your face in the sheets to stifles your desperate moan. 

“Need ya’ to listen.” He mutters. “You’re gonna have to talk to me, baby, lemme know what feels good, what you’re likin’, what you need more of-“

“You,” you gasp, and Dean chuckles, running a taunting finger between your folds. “God, I need you, Dean, need you so bad-“

“You need me?” He pushes the finger into your cunt, his body moving to covers yours as he whispers in your ear. “Need me to fuck this tight little pussy until you scream? Goddamn prove you how much I’ve wanted you, how much I’ve always wanted you-“

“Yes.” You nod frantically, grinding your ass up into him. “Show me, please show me-“

Dean moves your head to the side, capturing your lips in a long, slow kiss, and hums in satisfaction when he crooks that finger right up against that deep, sensitive spot inside of you, and your hands start to claw at the sheets.  

Then he’s gone. Without warning Dean draws back, yanks his finger out without warning, spanks your pussy again—chuckling at the high, needy sound that escapes your lips—and presses one hand to your lower back to still your writhing as he shuffles behind you

“Tell me whatcha want, baby.” He mutters, moving his hand to rub up and down your thigh. “And I’ll get it for ‘ya. But you have,“ He slaps your pussy one last time for emphasis, and you can only moan. “To say what you-“

“Your cock.” You whisper, spreading your legs wider for his to see. To look at your wet pussy—need dripping down to your knee—and take whatever the Mark is asking of him. “Want your cock Dean. Want you to fuck me, no holding back, please-“

He slams into you without warning. Burying himself at the hilt in one brutal movement, groaning above you as you go limp under him, trying only to twist and touch him, only to push back and somehow get him deeper. You feel so full, so fucking high on the stretch of Dean inside you, but it’s not enough-

“God, sweetheart, you feel so fucking good.” Dean starts to massage your ass, with one hand, the other holding you up in the air for him to use. “Better than I dreamed, feel like heaven, gonna fuck you so good like you deserve-“

“Dean, fuck-” you clench around him, the praise feeding right into your cockdrunk daze of Dean, and he groans. 

“Don’t do that,” he grunts your name, and it sounds like an order. “I ain’t gonna last if you-“ He moans as you squeeze around his massive cock again, and pulls all the way out before slamming back into you with a growl.

Your mouth falls open, a sound like a mewl escaping your mouth, and Dean starts to fuck you. Really, properly fuck you into the mattress, with low groans and an unforgiving pace, bumping your cervix and snaking a hand around your stomach to pull you up to his chest, rubbing your clit until you’re wrecked and seeing stars, thrusting up into you like a jackhammer and keeping you so blissfully pleasured and warm.

“So fuckin’ good,” he growls your name in your ear, and you squeak. “Takin’ this cock so fuckin’ well, all warm and tight, made for me. You were fuckin’ made for me-“

Dean’s thumb and fore finger roll your clit in a tight circle, and you cum with a scream. Light and color lining your vision, the far-off sound of Dean’s filthy praise making your orgasm ride out and out and out until you’re sure you’ve reached something like heaven. Your vision is still blurred when the satisfaction has washed fully through you, and you realize Dean’s stopped moving.

His hand tangles in your hair, angling your face back for him to see, and fuck he’s so handsome. Breathing heavy in your ear, lips puffed from sucking and kiss your skin, eyes glazed but still focused on you.

You must look like an idiot. Your expression is slack and needy, your eyes glazed a lips parted, but Dean looks at you like you’re a diamond and his cock twitches inside you as your eyes meet.

“Shit, baby,” he mutters. “You gotta say somethin’-“

“That-“ You let out another moan, your pussy still fluttering around him. “Good.”

He chuckles, kiss the very corner of your mouth with a smirk. “You got full words, Sweetheart?”

You swallow, the full feeling of Dean—throbbing inside you, still rock hard, pushing against that heavenly spot but with just too little pressure to send you over once more—crashing into you, and you say the only thing you can think of.

“Keep going?” 

He stares at you for a second, then shakes his head. “No, I- I’ll be fine, I can take care of myself-“

“Want you to use me.” You’re practically whining, and you’d be more embarrassed if the words didn’t make Dean jerk up into you. “Please-“

He groans your name, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. “I’m not- you’re-“

“I said don’t hold back.” You whisper, rolling your hips against him and feeling pride glow in your chest at his moan. “Fuck me, Dean. I’m yours.”

And there it is again. You say the exact right thing, the thing you knew would work, and Dean gives in. He shoves you down, flips you onto your back—pulling out for only a second as he adjusts you under him—and starts to fuck you like an animal. Rutting into you at a near inhuman speed, hitting your cervix with every thrust, every word a low growl that coils release tighter and tighter in your lower gut. 

“So fuckin’ greedy,” he grunts, slamming a little rougher. “Wantin’ more, begging me to fuck you, so fucking pretty comin’ apart on my cock, tell me how good it feels, baby-“

“Good,” you moan, your nails digging into his shoulders as the bed creaks around you, your whole body overwhelmed with pleasure. “Feel so full, Dean, feels so good, you’re so fucking big-“

He groans, and you start to babble. You’re not even sure what you’re saying anymore, because every word feels like it’s spilling from your mouth. But every inch of your brain trapped in Dean’s skin slapping against yours, his muscles flexing around you, the low and primal sounds rumbling out of his chest as his movements grow sloppy and his cock starts to throb inside of you, and you couldn’t think about anything else if you tried.

“You feel so good, Dean, please don’t stop, want you to cum, I-“ You gasp as he starts to kill up your neck, your hands shooting into his hair. “Fuck, Dean, please, so good, God, I love you-“

His mouth slams into yours, and your orgasm rushes through you like a tidal wave. Longer and powerful, leaving you so fucked out you can only whine under Dean’s body, toes curling and eyes rolling back in your head as your pussy flutters around him.

Dean pulls out, keeping one hand gently on your knee as he pumps himself with an almost blurring fist, and cums over your abdomen and thighs. It’s hot and sticky, and part of you wishes you’d had enough of a brain to ask him to let you taste it, but you’re so completely spent that when Dean collapses over you—a heavy, comfortable weight you’re more than happy to be trapped beneath—your brain wipes every other thought but Dean away, and you decide to just stay here. Where Dean’s face in buried in your neck, and your sore from all of it but there will never be a better pain to experience.

“I-“ Dean breaks the silence, words muffled in your skin. “I feel better.”

“Oh.” You huff a soft laugh. “Good.”

“What, uh, what should we tell Sammy?”

You tug on his hair, just enough to move his gaze back to yours. “That we had sex?”

“No,” Dean groans your name, a smile pulling at his lips. “About the Mark. But we should tell him that-“

You make a mock, dramatic gasp. “Dean Winchester, are you going to brag about sex to your brother-“

“It’s sex with you, Sweetheart.” He winks, rolling you both over and caging you comfortably against his chest. “And Sammy’ll be thrilled to hear it, he’s been on my ass for years-“

“Years?” You squeak. “How many years?”

He shrugs. “I dunno, all of them?”

“All of them?! What do you mean all of them-“

“I mean since I met you.” Dean starts to rub soothing circles on your back, his mouth curling in smug amusement. “Deep breathes, baby, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

You flush, still not really use to the baby thing. Or Dean’s hands on your skin, every touch lingering like an imprint that will never even try to fade. “Shut up-“

He shakes his head. “Nah. You love it.” A boyish, wide smile splits over his face. “You love me.”

You might die. You might explode into a million, tiny pieces of confetti and shimmering glass, because Dean looks so happy. There are no ghosts in his beautiful eyes, no loathing or dread stained over his perfect face. He’s happy, here, with you, and you’re not cruel enough to stop yourself from crawling up his chest and pressing a soft, sweet kiss to his lips.

“I do love you,” you mumble against him, straddling his torso as you push yourself up flat palms. “But I’m still gonna tell you to shut up.”

He chuckles, the sound rolling and humming right into your blood. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Dean reaches up to tuck a little hair behind your ears, and freezes, his eyes trained on his forearm. On the Mark.

“We, uh,” he clears his throat, watching you carefully. “We do need to figure out what we’re gonna do about this.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. “We do. But I, I think-“

You cut yourself off, taking his hand in yours and running light fingers over the Mark in thought. Dean stares up at you with a slight awe in his gaze that makes you feel almost important, and your words fall to a soft breath.

“If you want.” You whisper. “We can turn it back-“

“No.” He shakes his head, sounding almost panicked. “I’m not goin’ back to that shit, not now-“

“Dean.” Your fingers still on his arm. “Was it me? That the Mark wanted?”

He swallows, but nods, and you sigh.

“We’re going to have separate sometimes. And we can figure out the bloodlust-“

“We should have to figure it out though, you don’t gotta put up with that-“

“I know.” You smile at him, and it’s not hard. Smiling at Dean is never hard. “But I will.”

“Do you-“ He stares at you, tangling his fingers in yours. “Do you not want me to keep the betterlust? You can tell me, I don’t want you to feel like you have to, for me-“

“God, no.” You shake your head, squeezing his hand. “I’m just, I’m worried about what might happen when the betterlust decides I’m not enough. Or when this, um, when you-“

Dean says your name, slow and firm, and you swallow. “This is it for me. It’s you, and the Mark knows that. You’re gonna be more than enough, hell, you’re more than I deserve-“

“That’s not true.” You mumble. “You deserve the world.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. “It’s adorable that you really believe that, baby, but-“

You scowl at him. “It’s the truth, Dean. You’re a good man, I meant what I said-“

“I know you did.” His charming, cowboy grins falters slightly. Not falling, but twisting into one you’ve never seen before. Still roguish, still well designed and stealing your breath, but with a slight crack that allows you to see deeper. To see the lonely part of him, that really thinks you don’t belong here with him. That’s trying to drag you into him, because he’s certain you’ll start running if he doesn’t. “But this,” he nods to the Mark. “Is still gonna be a problem. I’m still gonna be a problem-“

“You’re not a problem-“

He says your name, the word careful and tender and holy from his lips. It’s the best way you’ve ever heard it. The only way you want to hear it again. “Do you want me to keep the betterlust.”

You purse your lips, and nod.

“Words, baby-“

“Yes.” You whisper. “But I need you to promise me that if it stops working-“

“It won’t.” He shrugs, his voice flat, as if he’s speaking in fact. “And we’re gonna keep looking for a way to get this son of a bitch off. But we’re doin’ it together.” He pauses, scanning over your open features. “If that’s what you-“

You lean down, silencing him with a long, easy kiss. It’s not desperate anymore, but careful. Like you’re making art, or starting to spin a web that could unravel with a single tug, but neither of you will let it. You’ll never let this—whatever this becomes—fall apart. You’ll put your whole life into keeping Dean, fighting for him and helping him and reminding him that he’s not really a burden. Letting him remind you that he really does want you, and he’s never going to allow you to doubt that again.

“Together.” You speak against his lips, letting your content breath fall into his mouth. “I’d like to stay together.”

He nods, mouth curving into a grin. “Alright then. Together.”

End Note: Thank you so so much for reading!!! I've had a lot of fun with this one, and I'm so happy y'all have as well! I hope to see some of you soon for the next one, and if not, thank you. no matter what!!

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[thelastspeecher]

I don't know WHAT was making the manure mixed with cherry cough syrup smell at the work site I went to today but I would like it to not be there ever again

[adieutristana]

kissing headcanons / arcane women x fem! reader

summary: headcanons for what kissing arcane women would be like.

characters included: jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn, lest.

tags/warnings: fluff, mentions of making out, mentions of poor mental health. could be suggestive in some spots.

men and minors dni.

jinx;

✧.* jinx is a very playful and spontaneous kisser. she’ll cut you off in the middle of a sentence just because she couldn’t resist, your lips are right there after all.

✧.* there’ll also be times she’ll just swing a leg over to sit in your lap and begin kissing you without warning. jinx is honestly the human embodiment of free will. if she wants a kiss, she’s gonna get a kiss.

✧.* honestly, it really depends how jinx is feeling when it comes to her kisses. when she’s happy to see you, she’ll leave a trail of kisses all over your face before ending on your lips. when she’s tired and feeling relaxed, her lips will softly brush yours as she hums.

✧.* when she’s upset or on the verge of an episode, she’ll kiss you deeply, hands firmly grabbing your top or shoulders just so she can be reassured that you’re actually there.

✧.* morning kisses with jinx. she’s usually up before you are, and most of the time, she’ll let you sleep. there is the odd occasion though where she’ll decide it’s too long of a wait, and she’ll wake you up by peppering kisses all over your face, giggling the whole time.

✧.* “g’mornin’ toots! i didn’t wake ya up, did i? oh, oops!”

✧.* there’s also the times when jinx wants to go slow. it’s not very often, usually preferring to plant her lips onto yours boldly. but there will be times when her lips gently capture yours, her tongue gently prodding at your lips for entrance. she savors these.

✧.* jinx loves when you brush her bangs to the side and kiss her forehead. it makes her freeze up for just a second every time, before she becomes visibly flushed (which is a rare occurrence.) she’ll deny it until she’s out of breath, but you think you’ve cracked the code.

✧.* “wh- i am not blushing! stop it!”

✧.* she doesn’t really talk during kisses, preferring to be present in the moment. she will tell you, very boldly, how much she wants to kiss you, though.

✧.* “can i get a kiss from my pretty girl? pleeeeaaase?”

vi;

✧.* vi is rough the majority of the time. she’ll thread her fingers through your hair or tug on your top, crashing her lips into yours desperately.

✧.* still, she can be soft when she wants to. usually when vi is physically exhausted, all she wants is to be close to you. she’ll gently place her calloused hands on your shoulders, leaning in ever so slowly to capture your lips in a kiss.

✧.* “mhm.. i’m fine, baby. just tired. i missed this.”

✧.* hair was briefly mentioned, but please put your hands in vi’s hair when kissing her. she will positively melt. putty in your hands.

✧.* as i’ve previously mentioned, vi isn’t the best at communicating her emotions, but she’ll kiss you to take the edge off. it’s a temporary stress relief, isn’t it? and she gets to be close to you. a win-win.

✧.* vi has been clearly upset or stressed more than once, trying to figure out how to verbalize those feelings before she just gives up and kisses you, putting her full body weight into it.

✧.* you can, at times, taste a bit of whisky while kissing vi. it’s one of the things that make her so unique, that smell coming off her just the slightest bit.

✧.* vi loves to hold you close to her while kissing. she’ll hold you flush to her chest, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other firmly gripping your hip. it makes her feel more secure, being so close to you.

✧.* vi loves to talk to you while kissing. little ‘i love you so fuckin much’s and ‘you’re perfect’ whispered against your lips, her voice low and smooth.

✧.* “look at you, just wanna kiss you so bad…”

✧.* vi would absolutely love if you kiss her wounds ‘better’ after patching her up. she’d act like it’s stupid and childish and she doesn’t like it, but you can see right through that.

✧.* it probably sounds weird, but i think vi would sometimes have her eyes slightly open while kissing you. yes, it’s a bit awkward, but she just wants to see you.

mel;

✧.* god help you, mel adores kissing. kissing, kissing, kissing.

✧.* if you like that, perfect! if not, too bad. and she’ll probably take it personally.

✧.* mel doesn’t do pda, but the second she has you behind closed doors, she’s ushering you to sit down so she can finally get her lips on yours.

✧.* mel will kiss your knuckles, she’ll kiss your temple, kiss you upon greeting and parting with you.

✧.* although as mentioned, mel doesn’t do pda, if there’s a time at a gala or conference where she’s simply overcome with the urge to kiss you, she’ll grab your wrist without warning to drag you into the next room and desperately kiss you.

✧.* “hush, they don’t matter. i just need to be with you right now.”

✧.* this woman needs no excuses, she just loves you so much and craves that contact.

✧.* you already know mel would leave so many lipstick marks on you. of course, if you’re going out, she’ll scramble to grab a rag and wipe the stains off your skin. but if it’s just the two of you for a while, she’d adore you wearing the marks for a little bit.

✧.* “you look just darling like that. who would’ve thought my lipstick would look so good on you?” she teases with a cheeky smile.

✧.* mel loves to take kissing slow. she doesn’t particularly care for chaste or brief kisses. she wants to take her time with you, enjoy you while you’re here.

✧.* so don’t rush her. if she feels like you’re trying to go too fast, she’ll let you know as much.

✧.* won’t talk during kisses, but she’ll lightly chuckle and hum into them. mel will make little noises to let you know that she’s enjoying herself.

sevika;

✧.* sevika is surprisingly pretty gentle most of the time. with you, the one she loves, she doesn’t want to hurt you. that’s not to say she won’t accidentally manhandle you, she’s very strong, after all.

✧.* of course, she can be rough when she’s feeling like it, and if you ask her to be a little more harsh, it’s like a switch flips.

✧.* sevika is a busy woman, so she doesn’t always have a lot of time to be attentive to you. when she does, though, believe she’s savoring every moment.

✧.* “i waited for this all day, yeah? come here.” she’d say, patting her thigh.

✧.* please sit in her lap. not only does sevika love holding you in general, but having you in her lap while kissing her will have her on cloud nine.

✧.* sevika will have one hand holding the back of your neck, her mechanical hand wrapped flush around your waist to keep you close to her, pressing long, hungry kisses to your lips.

✧.* on the flip side, sevika will lay beside you, her eyelids heavy of sleep and a calloused hand gently cupping your cheek. she’d lift your chin up to softly kiss you, letting out a relaxed sigh through her nose.

✧.* sevika not only talks to you while kissing you, but teases you.

✧.* “you’re this desperate for a little kiss, eh?” and “patience, hun. don’t worry your pretty little head, i’ll give you more.”

✧.* sevika just likes to see your cute reactions. whether that’s your eyes widening, your breath hitching, or you averting your gaze to try and hide your expression.

✧.* the latter of which, she won’t tolerate. she’d grab your chin and turn your face back to her. sevika wants to see you.

✧.* sevika would melt if you kissed her hands. she doesn’t know why, but it just feels so tender to her.

caitlyn;

✧.* she prefers long, lingering kisses. caitlyn usually does prefer to be in control while kissing you, though.

✧.* caitlyn will mostly only give you short kisses when upon greeting you and parting with you. otherwise, she likes to take her time with you.

✧.* call her pretty while kissing her. not only will it cause her to press into you further, but it gives her a good ego boost.

✧.* “caitlyn, you’re so beautiful, you know th-“ you mutter, before you’re cut off by caitlyn’s plush lips on yours.

✧.* caitlyn likes to have her hands on your waist while kissing you. there’s no particular rhyme or reason why, she just has her hands there. it also allows her to move you freely if she so wishes.

✧.* she’s a busy woman, but constantly stressed and has so much tension built up. poor girl, her shoulders and jaw are always so tense. but you’ve figured out that kissing you is a huge help when it comes to caitlyn releasing tension.

✧.* caitlyn would come home, visibly exhausted and wanting nothing more than to get some rest. before she opts to get ready for bed, though, she’ll come up behind you, turn you around, and begin slowly kissing you. kissing up your neck, landing on your lips and savoring the moment.

✧.* “long day, dear. forgive me if i was too forward.”

✧.* she’s not sorry at all, just trying to talk to you.

✧.* caitlyn is used to getting what she wants. of course she’ll never overstep your boundaries or do anything that would make you uncomfortable, but she’s very convincing. even if you’re not sure sneaking away from a council meeting to be swept off your feet by your girlfriend is a good idea, caitlyn has a way of looking at you. a look that says, ‘just trust me.’

✧.* caitlyn’s lips are very soft, and you can almost always taste some kind of strawberry or vanilla chapstick whilst kissing her.

✧.* caitlyn is also a big charmer. she’ll bring your knuckles to her lips, gently kissing them while looking you directly in the eyes.

✧.* “a charmer? you’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

lest

✧.* lest is also somebody who likes to take her time. it’s rare that she gets time to herself these days, so every moment she does get with her beloved, she wants to take full advantage of.

✧.* lest absolutely purrs into kisses. quite literally. you can tell that she’s enjoying herself because her lips will be on yours, both hands gently grasping your cheeks as she purrs deeply. it’s adorable, honestly.

✧.* she’s rather serious and stern on the surface, but you get to see the more playful side of her. lest purposely leaving lipstick marks on your face while wearing a smirk, giggling into kisses…

✧.* lest absolutely knows her way around relationships and kissing, so she’ll tell you exactly how she wants you to kiss her without fear.

✧.* “hold my shoulders. yes, love, like that. a kiss, then?”

✧.* lest would definitely take her scarf off just so she can use it to pull you into kisses. she finds your surprised reactions adorable, and the more you get used to it, the more she loves it. she’s grown to associate that scarf with you.

✧.* she likes to talk to you while kissing, as well. her voice is so low and soothing, it’s like you’re under a spell every time she opens her mouth.

✧.* “you’re beautiful… oh, stop. you flatter me. i’ll have to shut you up then, i suppose.”

✧.* lest doesn’t really have a preference as to control. she initiated the first few kisses, but she’ll gladly let you initiate them and take control every now and again. it’s nice to let go and relax, she trusts you.

✧.* sleepy kisses with lest. her job takes a lot out of her, being with customers all day, she’s usually drained by the time she’s finished. but nothing completes her day like crawling into bed with you, trailing kisses up your jawline and hearing your satisfied hums.

[atrirose]

͏͏𝒗𝒊. ͏MORE THEN JUST FRIENDS ! enha ͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏— ͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏& ͏ ͏𝐢

bsf(?)enha x f!reader. warning. none, kissing in jake’ + fluff wc.0.9k 🐰 seiu?!: after a century i’m writing hcs again yayy

— HEESEUNG LEE

let’s you bite him, very weird behavior but he has grown used to it, at first he was all confused as to why you feel the need to bite him like a chew toy but it’s okay your best friend(?) get you now, his biceps nom nom, but due to all this he has bite marks all over him which he is least bothered about but he does get asked if he is dating someone a lot which is confusing because why would people just assume he is dating out of the blue “yn you know i have been asked three times today whether im seeing someone and it’s all because of the bite marks you leave, people would think we are dating”

“do you want that to be a reality” he looks at you with wide eyes “are you hearing yourself” — “i am heeseung”

— JAY PARK

wears your hair tie which very bf coded and i wonder why he hasn’t asked you out yet? like which bestie goes around wearing a girls hair tie when he obviously is in the market? wearing it just makes you thing he is taken “do you love my hair tie that much you can’t even return it to me? YOU CANT RETURN MY OWN HAIR TIE TO ME” shoves a piece of cake in your mouth to shut you up “is it bothering that much, i will buy you more” which is weird because why not just return the one he has on his wrist, at this point he just wants be a wife.

“keeps me away from girls you know” oh so now he is just using you as an escape mechanism “keeps me a step closer to you” your ears turned red “so you wanna date me?” you ask

“that’s very multifaceted question” you hit his shoulders “big meanie” he giggled knowing damn well he is down right bad for you

— JAKE SIM

don’t at him but he has kissed you, like a full blown kiss not just a peck, for training purposes right? yes for training purposes so you both don’t seem like complete losers with no experience when you start dating someone, you can at least put each others name on the resume “do you wanna kiss?”

“no” jake looked at you with puppy eyes “why not” just because this is not WHAT NORMAL FRIENDS DO MR.HOT AND GENIUS BESTIES “your breath smells bad” eyes out like that sad hamster on tiktok with violin bg playing “UGH WHATEVER” you kiss him as he smiles between the kisses, knowing you can’t resist him (damn hot mf) “love ya see you after the match”

— SUNGHOON PARK

takes you on dates, and i get that it’s normal but it’s not normal when he is taking you out alone with him every other week to ‘treat you’, because normal friends totally don’t eat at a fancy restaurant together or go on a late night drive without romantic feelings like girl who are you kidding? “don’t you ever think all this dates we go to without our other friends who you reject because you only want to be with me is the reason why people think we are dating”

“yes” he said cuddling you on his bed “and like this is not normal too you cuddling me, WAIT WHAT YES?” he kissed you forehead “yes but we aren’t just friends either you know” butterflies

— SUNOO KIM

cuddles all the time, whether it is out, in school or hanging out at each others houses, you both are all up each others, which has been pointed out so many times but sunoo really doesn’t care, he would rather feel your soft cheeks next to his than hear people about how this can be a whole scandal and lower the chances of you both getting any partners because people think you both are dating “sunoo can i get some water please i’m dehydrated” you try to wiggle out of the sofa you both were cuddling “nooo i will be cold”

“no you won’t be ugh get off me big baby” you try to push him as he gets up “so now you hate me” obviously he is faking it but you feel bad “im not i’m sorry sunoo what do you want me to do”

“date me”

— JUNGWON YANG

unusually long eye contact, and not the staring contest kinda way, but a loving and soft way, like he is expressing how much he loves you by staring at you, even when you are not looking at him he is always admiring you, asked at multiple occasions why he was staring at you and he just replies with ‘can’t i look at my best friend’ like sure so normal for a bestie to look at his bestie with love doe eyes. so the way he looks at you with undivided attention you might think he is listening to everything you are saying but no you got him wrong.

he humming at you talking about some dog you found cute on tiktok but he isn’t actually really listening and registering anything you are saying, he too busy admiring your plump lips that he would give anything to kiss right now “and then a blue cat said heya bro” he still looking at you “hmm that’s cool”

“YANG JUNGWON YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME” you said shaking him “i guess not, it’s hard to control myself from kissing you and still listen to you, i can’t multitask like that”

— RIKI NISHIMURA

has your face as his alternate face lock id, also lets you use his phone, you want his phone real quick okay have it, you want to see through his photos okay have it, you want to use his insta okay use it, the only thing you are off limits is the boys gc because shady business goes down there, people really think you are dating your bestie and how he is the most honest and trustworthy bf ever? like no he has thousands of feet pics in his camera roll and you haven’t heard any explanation from him yet? how is he honest.

“you are going through my dms?” riki asks as you play around with his phone “yeah and if that bothers you don’t worry im texting this pretty girl who slide in your dms, soon you would have a cute girlfriend all because of my rizz” he snatched his phone from your hands “what the hell i thought i blocked her? yn why are texting her-”

“why? did you get offended? i’m sorry i shouldn’t have, no matter how close we are” he face palms like an old man done with everything “i’m not offended because you texted her, i’m offended at the fact that i have such a dumb friend who can’t see i want her more then just friends” there star struck aren’t you

[verstxppen33]

this wasn't meant to happen

summary: oops, you left your diary at his house... | autumn special!

genre: a sprinkle of fluff

warnings: use of y/n

pairing: lando norris x reader // friends to lovers

a/n: super cliché, i know, i know

The raindrops dropped gently against your window, creating a soothing sound. As soothing as it was, it didn't really comfort your anxiousness of your diary being gone. You rummaged through everything and everywhere, even in the bathroom. But it was nowhere to be found.

Unless you've taken it to Lando's house...you took it to Lando's house?!

Meanwhile, Lando found a scarlet-coloured notebook on his bedside table. Out of curiosity, he picked it up and opened it.

"Dear Diary,

Today, I had to take care of a drunk Lando. He kept mumbling about me being so precious and pretty? I didn't quite take it seriously, but the way he spoke was just too affectionate. Not to mention, he was very clingy too."

Lando's eyes shot wide open, as he remembered the morning after "the incident". It was your diary. He quickly shut the diary, a slight blush on his cheeks. He didn't want to invade your privacy, even if all of your thoughts and feelings could just be opened right here and now. It'd be a bad thing to do, right?

He resisted the urge only for a few minutes, letting out a slight giggle and opening up the book and sliding to the next page. He looked around his bedroom like if someone was watching him, then sitting against his headboard and reading curiously.

"Hey there,

Something's going on with my mind, and I don't even have the energy to write anything. Quick and short, I might be in love? With Lando, perhaps? I have no idea. He's just too cute! It's wrong to fall in love with my bestfriend, isn't it? Nevertheless, I have some things to do:"

What? In love? Lando stopped immediately stopped reading. He didn't really care about the other pages now, definitely not your To-do list.

He silently cursed himself for invading your privacy like that and letting his curiosity win over. He closed the book and thought about giving it back to you.

Still in slight panic, you were drinking a cup of tea, leaning against the countertop, wondering where your damn diary was. You almost never wrote into it, but it still felt so damn important. The rain already stopped pouring, leaving an earthy smell in the crisp of the autumn air.

A ring on your doorbell could be heard and you put your cup of tea down, wondering who would it be. As you opened the door, you smiled at Lando's sight, but as your gaze darted over to the scarlet notebook he was holding—your diary, your smile faltered.

"I think it was yours." Lando spoke up sheepishly, holding the diary out for you to take. You rapidly take it from his hands.

"Did...Did you read it?" you ask nervously, even though you had no idea what was in it anymore, since the last time you wrote in it was months ago.

"Maybe, y/n, Maybe." he responded with a faint smile. "I got too curious. And I've think I've read enough." You raised an eyebrow. Was that a good or a bad thing? What the hell did you write into that notebook?

"What did you see, exactly?" you asked curiously, leaning into him unconsciously.

"You're in love with me." Lando responded bluntly with a slight chuckle, noticing your cheeks heating up immediately. "No, it's fine. It's fine. I maybe I am too, and I'm maybe just figuring it out."

Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. He responded to it quickly and wrapping his arms around you as well, grinning widely. He gently lifted his hand to run through the strands of your hair, his hand slightly cold from the autumn breeze.

You two have a lot to figure out.

[ceilidho]

prompt: im also thinking of a very bad fic where ghost is taken pow for awhile and it fucks him up and he’s forced to see a therapist when he’s rescued but he’d rather use her p[] as therapy instead. tags: nsfw, implied/not described violence, slight dubcon, unprofessional relationship lol

-

It isn’t serendipitous that you meet; it comes because of a lot of bad luck and malevolence. 

He’s captured during a routine surveillance mission and spends three months as a POW in some shed in the Ural mountains. He comes back different. That’s to be expected. Trauma is an insidious thing that takes root under the skin, that twists and turns even in the dead of night. It’s a tunnel that gets tighter as you walk through it. It would be concerning if he didn’t come back that way. 

You know far too many gory details to ever feel truly comfortable around him. Not because of anything he’s done but because you can’t help the way the narrative builds in your mind when you look across the room at him. Even sitting on the prim and proper little sectional in your office, his body too big for the cozy little couch you picked up from some upscale boutique with your government paycheck, you can’t help but mythologize him. 

The official story is that four men were found dead when Simon Riley was finally extracted from the shed-turned-torture-room six months ago due to a bacterial infection that, luckily, Simon was not exposed to. The story’s flimsy even to your untrained ears; you may not have gone to medical school, but it just seems too perfect, too impeccable. When you push your superior for the truth, the look you get and the quiet “leave it alone” tells you far more than your paygrade deserves. 

Even knowing what you know, he shows up day one with the skull balaclava like some bone fortress that tells you before you even try, I am unknowable. You can try to cut me up and look inside, but this is all you’ll find—bone and bone and more bone.

He’s remarkably resistant to therapy, which is also to be expected; you aren’t at the stage in your career where you’re surprised that a man entrenched in the machinery of militarism won’t acquiesce to talk therapy. 

There’s a point where you want to try a new tactic, something to get to the root of what he’s hiding from you. So, you poke at it. You ask him to give you a five-minute account of the traumatic event, something that took place in the shed. 

“Which of those events do you dislike thinking about the most?” Your pen is poised over the pad in your lap. 

He raises a brow so high up that it disappears behind the mask. “How could I pick just one?”

His voice rumbles like tires over gravel. Sometimes your leg jitters when he speaks and it’s not your fault. You shut it down though because this is not a legend in front of you but a man, and you are in this room with him for a very specific purpose that does not include finding the sound of his voice attractive. 

You ask him again: “Which comes to mind first?”

Simon doesn’t answer you, but there’s a flash like quicksilver across his eyes and you catch it not because you’re looking but because he lets you. 

He shifts forward in his chair so that his elbows are propped on his knees and he’s leaning forward, closer to you than you’re comfortable with. You didn’t think to put a coffee table between the two of you. With other vets and active personnel, it’s easier without the sense of distance; makes them feel closer to you, vulnerable because it’s just skin, oxygen, and skin. 

With Simon, you get the sense that distance might be better. 

“What comes to mind first is that it was dark and I could smell the blood. I could taste it. But I couldn’t see it.” He doesn’t blink for as long as he speaks. You try not to let your breath shorten; you feel hungry for his truth the way a wolf hungers for the moon. “And it was dark and I could smell it; it was in my throat because I knew it was the only way out of there. I realized in that room that there is no righteous path but the one you take.”

Simon leans so far forward that his body glides up to stand and the pencil trembles in your hand when he takes a step close. He’s bigger looming over you, all brawn in the way military men often are, but sleek in his movements. You think of snakes or panthers. 

He breathes in. “You smell good though, love. Do you think we could start there instead?”

You open your mouth to reply, maybe even tell him to sit down so you can approach the question from a different angle, but then he’s on you, quick as he must have been that night. One big callused hand over your mouth and one knee on the couch, his other hand reaching up to pull the mask below his nose. You feel the warm press of it into the side of your neck and try not to struggle.

His breath shudders across your skin. You shake because you feel all the bone hidden beneath his frame now.

Simon’s hand is rough when it slides up your shirt. Pretty pearl buttons go flying; one rolls under the prim and proper couch. You only struggle for the first couple of seconds before professionalism melts away like a fine mist. Like you can do anything but look at him like a revelation. You stare at the pearl beneath the couch when he fucks you, legs split around his waist and you know it’s going to hurt in the morning. 

“If I’d known that you were waiting for me while I was in there,” he breathes, sonorous and rich, mask rolled up over lips bisected by a puckered scar, “I would have torn out their throats much more eagerly.”

[laduenadelswing]

A special connection

I went to the gym and thought : let’s write something about that :)

König who loves working out in the gym will do everything to get his regular workout in. Not because he really cares that much about his health, more that he cares about seeing you. How couldn't he be obsessed with you, your infectious smile, the cute laughter, the way you wear your gym shorts and glance at the floor sometimes. He loves that you get all flustered as soon as you see his imposing physic. He sometimes imagined how your small statute feels under his big hands. In summer, he especially loved seeing you in a sports bra. Seeing your soft and bouncy boobs in the skintight shirt made him weak, the way you walked into the Gym that day, he almost choked on his saliva when you walked past him. That day you turned around and smiled for the first time, his heart didn't skip a beat, it stopped.

His luck was temporary, since he got deployed the following day. Oh, God! He missed you, in the skin tight outfits and the bra, your soft and squishy body was just so perfect. He was alone in the desert, he thought about more often than he liked to admit. Would you still be there when he came back? He did not know your name, still you were the object of his primal desires. Even your lips seemed so perfectly soft, so kissable. When you squatted some weights in his sight, he could not look away. König was playing a very dangerous game, but he enjoyed it too much to stop. He is just a man, after all.

He came back from deployment a little bit leaner than he was before. The lack of food and the spare time being the main reason he was lean. As he trained late at night, his favourite Eye candy walked into the gym, he was craving something sweet anyway. You looked at him a little dumbfounded at first, then smiled. You did not expect this unit of a man to show up in your Gym. Furthermore, you haven't seen him in a while, he was tall with broad shoulders, messy hair and the most piercing blue eyes you have ever seen. A couple of months ago you were determined to talk to him, König always trained alone, throwing around your bodyweight and using it as a warm-up set. He was an intriguing man, a hot man with a narrow waist. How could you resist? He didn't look shy from the outside, but the fact that he never talked to anyone was suspicious to you.

The training session went well, your eyes wandered from König from time to time, the way he effortlessly moved so much weight, made you feel a little embarrassed when you compared light weights. Today just wasn't your day, you could not adjust the weights, because you were just too short. Frustration was painted over your face, and that might have been the only opportunity for König. He walked up to you, looking down in your eyes who seemed to sparkle in the lights of the weight room, could there be anything more adorable than you?

“Can I help you?” He asked, scratching his neck anxiously. You looked surprised but intrigued.

“ Can you adjust my weights, I can't do more than 20kg and someone forgot to put on some normal weights.” You explained, annoyed.

“My bad.” He mumbled. You looked a little embarrassed, a little anxious even.

“ Oh my, I am sorry, I didn't mean to insult you.” Now you were the one scratching your neck. Oh God, König couldn't comprehend how much he wanted to wrap his hand around this petite neck of yours.

“ No Problem. I am not insulted. Do you need someone to spot you?” König offered his help. You nodded.

As your physical training continued, a bond started to grow. König loved how you made silly remarks, jokingly flexing a little next to him. You loved that he put on your lighter weights after his set was done. He was so nice, why did you never talk before?

After your training session was over, you took a shower in the Gym and got ready, stepped outside the dressing room and saw König standing there. Did he just wait for you? His hair was still a little wet, he smelled like shower gel and deodorant. “Did you take a shower, or did you wait for me?“ König smiled. “Both, I wanted to ask if you are interested in……” König walked towards the entrance and opened the door for you.

Outside the Gym, he just looked at you, not being able to finish the sentence and ask her out. His anxiety got the better of him.

“König? Do you want to grab dinner with me?” At that moment, König began blushing.

[shuugumi]

❥ 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: gojo satoru is a light weight when it comes to drinking. he rarley drinks besides certain occasions, this one being suguru’s party. 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of alcohol, established relationship, gender neutral reader, satoru being a cutie pie, 835wc, sfw

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐝𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: is it bad i went to my senior beach bash JUST for the free alcohol?! please drink responsibly!!! (requests are open)

you couldn't help but chuckle as you heard unmistakably stumbling and giggling from the hallway of your home. hearing the loud ruckest coming from the living room, you sat up from your bed rubbing your eyes as your boyfriend, satoru, finally arrived back home from his best friend's house party he attended earlier today.

you knew your boyfriend all to well maybe knew him more than he actually knew himself but. satoru was a known lightweight. he had a strong resistance to alcohol and rarely drank, but during times like these. nights were bound to be entertaining.

satoru stumbled upon the doorframe of the bedroom. grabbing the side of the frame to gain stability as he tries to pull off his soiled socks and threw them somewhere on the bedroom floor.

"hey there, beautiful," he slurred, his words were barely coherent and his hair was disheveled, tie was loose hanging around his neck. and his blindfold or sunglasses were nowhere to be seen. (they were in his pant pockets)

stifling a laugh, you slid off your bed and approached him, taking one of his arms and helping him to his side of the bed. "looks like you had a good time," you teased, taking off the paper crown that was perched crookedly on his head.

satoru nodded vigorously. "it was…the best. party. ever," he declared, his words punctuated by hiccupping laughter.

as you settled him on his side of the bed, you gained a better view of his face. pink and flushed. whenever he laughed or spoke, the scent of alcohol escaped and filled your nostrils. you saw him struggling with unbuttoning his shirt so you swatted his hands away and started undoing the buttons for him.

"y’er know," he began, leaning towards you with a mischievous twinkle in his azure eyes, "shoul’ve seen me on the dance floor baby. i was tearing everyone up!"

chuckling, unable to resist his charm, you slide his buttonup off his arms before replying, "oh i am..i am sure you were," you said, shaking your head affectionately.

“missed you s’much though.” he whines, wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him. “ho-how come you’re up late?” he stutters, resting his head on your stomach.

rubbing circles on his back you hummed, “i wasn’t up actually…i woke up cause you were making a lot of noise.” you pout to him, he looked at you with sorry eyes. “lemme giv’ kiss. as apology.” he says and as he puckers his lips you deny him.

the smell of alcohol that hit your nose every time he spoke was flowing towards you brain, almost giving you a headache. “maybe you should go shower stink butt.”

he was definitely taken aback from the name when he looked at you confused. “s-stink butt? ah just…just for that i am not gonna shower.” he snickers, tickling your side.

“satoru!! you’re a brat when drunk!” you whimper as he stops his movement and brings you up on his lap. “mmm yeah, a- a very cute drunk brat.” his head fount its spot in the crook of your neck, and you could feel his lips become a pout.

“my very cute drunk brat.” you emphasized on the ‘my’ and he immediately shot his head up and looked into your eyes. “y-yeah baby. your drunk brat. only yours.” he coos, tapping your thigh.

it became quiet with just the midnight breeze flowing into your bedroom. that until you finally got satoru into his pajamas. he put up a fight about showering tonight because he wanted to shower with you but, since you already showered it wasn’t reasonable. but on the other hand, you didn't want to deal with his stubbornness so you let him into the bed. putting the blanket over him and snuggling close to his backside. whenever he's like this, you're the big spoon.

“baby.”

“yes?”

“you’re so…beautiful did you know that? and-and how much i love you?”

“you tell me everyday. i know you love me. i love you too satoru.” you reassure, laying a soft kiss on the back of his ear.

“everyday-isn’t enough…..somedays, well. maybe if you’re up for it. i’ll propose to you…want you to be my wife. not that you aren’t already but..make it offical, y’know?”

“maybe one day toru. but, not right now okay?” you coo, stroking the back of his hair and running your finger down the bridge of his nose.

“get some sleep okay? you’re gonna have a long day of being hungover..” you say as you continue to run your finger down his nose and he sighs.

“you treat me so well. i-i…”

“shhh, sleep. you can tell me tomorrow~.”

when gojo satoru is drunk. he becomes talkative. not knowing the social cues of when someone has no interest so then you shut up but, he rambles till the sun awakens. but under your command, he stays quiet and within a few seconds, he is sound asleep.

light snores escaping his mouth turning into loud obnoxious ones. you laugh before turning over and closing your own eyes.

🩰 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ❦

© 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 ; do not translate, copy, plagiarize or upload elsewhere!! all content is owned by me unless stated otherwise.

[mountkennedie]

Plants

Loki x reader

Summary: you visit Loki in his personal library

warnings: Loki season 2 reference (sorry BUT I HAD TO), fluff

A.N. gender fluid Loki means everything to me

The young prince of Asgard had many places he frequented. His room, of course, everyone loves their room. A certain shadowed place in the kingdom gardens that he thinks only he knows about. And lastly, in the place he was in now, the library. For his birthday, it had been gifted to him. There already was a library in the palace. This was really just a smaller version of it. However, this one supplied only his favorite genres, and when that idea was proposed, I don't think the person was aware of Loki's reading history. He has many favorite genres, and space in the smaller library was filled quickly.

You had nothing better to do to spend your time. And usually that meant you would find your best friend of many years. Contrary to popular belief, you knew to check the library first. It makes sense to go to his room, but you know better. He didn't actually have many books in his room. It was a guideline set by his mother so that he would sleep at night instead of read the hours away. All the books inside had been read cover to cover so many times he could probably recite them at any given moment.

Approaching the doors, there were two guards standing watch. "Is Loki in today?" You knew their names, and honestly, more than you probably should for the royal guards. Their jobs were protection, not chatter. But who could resist a little break from that strict code? Especially when you would ask the most random yet interesting questions you could think of.

"If you had the choice of only being able to see one color for the rest of your days, which one would you choose?"

"My lady, I have been advised to limit conversation that does not concern the safety of the kingdom. But also a nice blue would not be bad."

"Yes, my lady, he is. Would you prefer an introduction?" He asked.

"That won't be necessary." They both nodded their heads and opened the doors for me to enter. The room was beautifully lit. The lanterns were a lovely touch, with the edition of the small candles added a very cozy feeling. Luckily, the windows in the corners of the room had been cracked. Neither of you could stand the smell of standing smoke. There were two couches in the center of the room. They were large and rather dramatic, the edition of the green velvet cushions added to the atmosphere.

Upon one to those couches was the one you had been looking for. Stretched out on the right couch, new book in hand. The title was something you couldn't make out. Their fingers covered it perfectly. "You know you can ask instead of trying to sneakily figure it out," they quipped. They finally looked up and smirked at you.

You helped yourself to sit down on the adjacent couch. "No, I am good with sneaking glances," you replied in a similar tone.

He huffed and placed his book down on the table. "Is there nothing interesting going on in the palace? That is why you violate my one place of solace?" He kept his tone light, so you knew his cruel words were nothing but words.

"Oh, I just knew you missed my presence so much. I had to cease your worries and needs." The pair of you could go on for hours if you both wanted. But instead of that, you needed him to answer something. "Loki, if you were a plant, what plant would you be?"

"That's what has been plaguing you today?" She sat up, and you mirrored her. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, "If I was a plant..."

"I have an idea of what I think you'd be, but I still am curious as to what you think." You rested your head on your hands facing him. Your smile of amusement gleamed on your face. You loved watching her in deep thought.

"Well, help me out. What would you be?" Their smile matched yours. It grew bigger when your brows knitted in concentration.

"I think I would be a fern. A nice pretty fern with a big wide leaf span. I would make all the other ferns jealous," You finished your sentiment with a theatrical voice. You had been thinking of this for a little bit. And by a little bit, it was really what you were thinking about on the way here.

"I could easily see you passing as a fern. As for me... I can see myself as some form of tree. Maybe a weeping willow or a variation of it." When he finished his thought, he looked back down at you.

"I was thinking more of a strong oak tree, growing tall and providing shade for anyone lucky enough to walk near you." He looked at you after you said that. Not with the typical look of a friend, but of something more weighted. You could really only hope that was what you were seeing. The growing feelings of adoration towards the god had only gotten more intense over time. You've heard of many seeing the world through rose colored glasses. You could wish that your vision was clear.

"Thank you," They looked like they wanted to say more. And you implored they would. But instead, you both continued the intense eye contact you both had been holding. The air was too thick for your lungs to carry. You wanted them to make the first move because you were frozen. "Y/n?"

Your name was spoken in the way a lover would address another. You said a silent prayer that your eyes were not scarlet sensitive in this moment. "Loki?" Your voice was barely stronger than a whisper. He stood and approached your couch. You stood up and moved to be in front of him.

"It is my turn to ask you something." He took a deep breath and took your hands in his. "I need to know now, have your feelings toward me ever been more than... platonic?" His eyes were full of fear. But you also could see how badly he needed to hear your response.

You managed to get one gust of air inside your long awaiting lungs. You looked into his eyes one last time as a friend, then said, "Yes."

He blinked twice as the clarity rolled over him. His hands lightly squeezed yours, "Even now?" His voice was something you had never heard before. It was frail and desperate. You nearly wanted to apologize for putting him through such torment.

You thought of your next words thoroughly. "Especially now," you squeezed his hands back in the same manner. She sighed and shut her eyes. You did the same, and you both rested your foreheads on the others. Without word, your both tilted your heads up and let your lips collide.

You were not sure who sighed into the kiss, but it was still an accurate representation of the need for action. It stayed slow, but not any less passionate as a kiss of messy fire. When you both pulled apart, your hands stayed conjoined. No one spoke. No words could describe what was flowing between you two.

Eyes closed and lips locked yet again. Again and again and again.

[owlwithanapple]

Bird & Fox 🔞

This is my first time writing erotic content🔞. I'm still learning, I hope you all will like it😘.

If you have any ideas, you are welcome to tell me at any time😆. Don’t be shy ya🥺

Chapter 15

Passion Or Juicy?

Jason Pov

In the morning, my naked body lay on the comfortable and soft bed, enjoying the bright sunshine shining through the window onto my skin. The room was surrounded by a light and fresh floral scent, which was neither strong nor vulgar, made me feel so comfortable. I put my hands on the pillow leaned my head back, staring at the rotating fan hanging on the ceiling in a daze.

I turned around buried my face in the pillow with a floral scent, which made me feel very warm and ease. But it was strange, I never smelled such a nice floral scent at home. I got up from the bed in confusion and saw a few clothes scattered on the floor. I bent down to pick them up took a closer look. It was a black high-necked dress for women.

Did I have one-night stand last night? Why don't I remember it? Who is that woman? I walked out the room with the skirt in my hand, curious who was in my house. I heard the sound of hair dryer coming from the bathroom. I stood outside the door leaned over to listen, but the sound of the hair dryer in the bathroom had stopped. I was just thinking about opening the door and going in to see who it was when a clear and gentle singing voice came from inside.

“You're just too good to be true ～ Can't take my eyes off of you ～”
“You'd be like Heaven to touch ～I wanna hold you so much ～”

Wow… this girl can really sing, the melody is beautiful and melodious. Without thinking much, I turned the doorknob and pushed it inside. The girl was facing the mirror with her back to me. I felt the girl looked familiar at first sight. From the back, she looked like Y/N. She had beautiful long brown hair and wore a white masculine shirt. She tied her hair up and turned to me smiled. It was my fucking beloved Y/N! "

I was so surprised that forgot how to blink. A bunch of questions that I couldn't solve emerged in my mind. Pause for a moment, let me calm down and sort out the doubts in my head. Why did she appear in my house? Why did she wear my shirt? Why does my bed smell like flowers? Why does she sing so softly and beautifully? What the hell is going on now?

She was walking towards me now, it was fucking serious bad. She wearing a white shirt that was completely unbuttoned, revealing her plump breasts and black lace underwear. The sexy black underwear was seen through the white shirt. Not only that, she also showed her sexy collarbone and her long slender legs.

I remembered something... I looked at my lower body, and I was fucking naked! I was standing in front of her fully naked! And I fucking stared at her for so long! Subconsciously, I used the skirt in my hand to cover my lower body, looking very embarrassed and a loss. She covered her mouth with hand to avoid my sight and laughed there, what the hell happened today!

After she finished laughing, she breathed a sigh of relief and walked towards me. I couldn't resist the temptation take a peek at her half-naked body, but immediately looked away. What happened? Is she always like this? Why don't I remember it? Are we so familiar with each other that we are half-naked? Am I sick or is she still sick?

When my mind was still in a mess, she put her arms around my neck. I didn't understand why for a moment, she pulled me into her plump breasts, and my face was buried between her breasts. At that moment, I really thought something big was going to happen. I felt the heat on her body and heard her cute laughter. She hugged me excitedly while laughing, "Good morning, sexy, did you sleep well?"

I panicked and grabbed her arm moved back. "Huh?! What the hell is going on now! Why are you walking in my house dressed like this?!"

I saw her smile turn into a confused expression, and I realized I said the wrong thing. She folded her hands under her chest. "Eh? I usually dress like this... I was going to ask you what's wrong, you looked at me like a ghost."

I was confused... I pointed at her lower body and slowly moved to her face. "You usually dress like this? Are you sure?"

She pushed my hand away, put her hands on her waist, said in a somewhat impatient tone, "I wear it for my boyfriend, is it weird?"

I didn't hear it wrong, she said she wore it for her boyfriend... She has a boyfriend... I held her shoulders and became nervous. "Wait a minute! Who the hell is your boyfriend!?"

She slowly raised her hand and pointed her index finger at me. "My boyfriend is you, Jason Todd."

I am her boyfriend... but I never confessed to her face to face... how did we jump to this kind of relationship "Are you sure? You are not lying to me? This is fake, right?"

She pulled me to the living room pushed me to sit on the sofa. She boldly sat on my thighs. I could feel her lower body rubbing against my dick! She held my face with both hands "Why would I lie to you? Or are you tired of me? Want to get rid of me? Want to break up with me?"

I grabbed her arm and explained hurriedly "It's not like that! I..."

Suddenly she kissed my lips gently, as if it was a dragonfly touching the water. Her sweet lips left my lips, and a faint smile appeared on her face "Can you tell me what's wrong? Don't scare me."

She was upset, she was scared. My helplessness hurt her and this unreal love. I calmed down and continued, "I'm sorry... I scared you. I feel so unreal that you and I actually dating."

She was confused by my strange words, "Why is it unreal?"

I told her my true feelings with sadness, "You are gentle, cute and kind, completely different from me. But we are really together."

There was a hint of sadness on her face, she hid in my shoulder and whispered, "I've told you many times. I like Jason Todd. I don't care if we are the same or different, I only love you."

Fuck...what am I doing...it's just a fake love, or an illusion of happiness, so what? I like her it's true, I love her it's true. This is the love I want, the story of us walking hand in hand because we love each other. I raised my hand and hugged her tightly to comfort her, "I'm sorry, princess. I had a nightmare and said some strange things to scare you. It's okay now."

She left my shoulder, her tearful eyes staring at me. I used my fingers gently wipe away her anxiety and tears, and she finally restored my favorite smile, "Stupid Jason, you really scared me."

I laughed softly and exhaled, "I was not only scared, but also surprised."

She tilted her head with confusion on her face, "Surprise?"

I rubbed her thighs with my rough hands. Since it was unreal, why didn't I enjoy this moment? I said in a sexy and flirting tone, "I woke up and saw my little princess sitting on my thighs in such a sexy and coquettish way. I was excited just thinking about it."

She moved my hands away. I wanted to ask her if she didn't like me touching her suddenly. Unexpectedly, she put my hands on her plump breasts. I really didn't expect it! Her small waist twisted gently, and her butt rubbed again and again, then she looked at me shyly, "Do you like it?"

Fuck. My fucking God. This situation made me so horny. It's hard to extinguish the fire. I never thought I would see such a seductive side of her. I didn't even imagine it. This is simply the happiest moment in my life, a love I have never experienced. I never knew I would have such passion and enthusiasm today.

I looked at Y/N sitting on my lap. The white shirt vaguely revealed the extremely seductive temperament of the dark black underwear. Through the white shirt and underwear, my hand touched her breasts, and super soft. I hugged her waist and let her stick to me. I licked and bit my lips with a smirk and told her, "I fucking love you so much. I want to strip you naked and eat you in one bite."

Her hands slowly moved up from my chest to my neck, and she moved closer to my face. I could feel her breathing, we were only a short distance away. If I were closer, I could give her thirsty lips a hot kiss. She kissed my cheek as sweet as a piece of candy and whispered in my ear, "Hey sexy, last night wasn't enough?"

Last night? We had sex? Was our progress fast or slow? How did she feel when having sex with me? Did she feel satisfied? I put my doubts aside. I couldn't suppress the joy in my heart when I heard what she just said. I got up and threw her on the sofa. My mood was complicated but happy. Complex in this unreal moment, happy in falling in love with her.

Now she is in front of me, her beautiful hair scattered and messy, her white shirt disheveled, her breasts wrapped in sexy black underwear, her slender waist, her sexy and round buttocks covered only by a lace. She exudes a strong charm and sexiness from head to toe. Fucking hell, how did fate let me meet this beautiful fucking woman in the world?

I stretched out my claws to her body, and slowly moved a finger from her collarbone to her chest. Her body trembled because of my touch, such a lovely response made me want to do something bad. I stole a glance at her face, curious what expression she would have, and I saw her covering her face with her hands, but I could vaguely see that she was blushing.

This reaction is fucking erotic and cute. I swallowed saliva and took a deep breath. Maybe I can find her sensitive spot now, then what will her reaction be. I gently drew circles on her plump breasts with my fingers. I couldn't see her naked body because of the layer of underwear. The less I could see, the more excited I became. I tried to touch her nipples covered by the underwear with my fingers.

"Kya!" Suddenly I heard a cute voice, I saw her covering her mouth with her hands. That cute voice was hers? Damn, it was her voice? Did I hear it right? I drew circles around her nipples through the layer of underwear and then rubbed her nipples, and her body gradually became excited. Jason Todd... No the fucking way... It's so happy to enter the stage of making love with the girl I love the most.

Maybe I really can't hold it back anymore, her body is full of beauties that I want to eat. My fingers slid from her nipples to her abdomen, her body trembled and twitched again. I couldn't hold back my own evil claws, and stretched my evil hands between her thighs to gently rub and massage. Wait the hell? This wet feeling... could it be...

Her hand was taken away from her mouth in a panic, and grabbed my hand between her thighs. Her face was already red, as if she didn't want me to see between her thighs. I was curious and wanted to use my fingers to explore, but she was at a loss and shyly held my hand tightly, "Don't look!"

I was shocked and didn't move. "Sorry! Is it too fast?"

She looked at me with her eyes, her face full of shyness. "No... I'm just embarrassed."

I was confused. Why was she embarrassed? Or was it we hadn't reached the stage of making love yet... I didn't want to hurt her body and wanted to respect her wishes. I gently touched her cheek with my other hand. "Tell me why."

She avoided my gaze and looked away. Then she thought for a while and mustered up her courage to tell me, "It's like this every time. We haven't started yet... then I get so wet..."

It's like this every time? How many times have we done it? How can she be so wet? ! I realized where the wetness just now came from. It was foreplay before making love. It just a simple touch, and she had already started to react. Damn it, a foreplay can make her wet, and she said such cute words, I fucking stayed rational. "Little princess, only two of us here, don't be embarrassed. It's normal for you to have this reaction."

"It's all because of you! It's all your fault! You made me like this..." She blurted out in embarrassment.

I couldn't hold back my joy and laughed "Hahaha! Damn! You really are..."

"You're still laughing! Asshole Jason!" She complained in anger.

I exhaled , thankful she liked me touching her, fearing my skills in bed didn't satisfy her "Little princess, I want to make you feel comfortable. As long as you feel comfortable, I'll enjoy it, and that's fucking enough."

Her eyes showed joy, and her hands gently stroked my face "I want you, just you."

After hearing those words, I no longer hesitated. We already confirmed our relationship. I leaned over and kissed her lips. She closed her beautiful eyes, put her arms around my neck pulled me closer. This kiss was not a gentle one, but a hungry one. The two of us were entangled together as if a beast and a little rabbit were combining. I was the beast who longed for the pleasure brought by the little rabbit.

I licked her lips with my tongue, she smiled slightly understand my intention. She opened her mouth slightly let my tongue enter her mouth, and kept entangled with her tongue in her mouth. What an exciting and comfortable pleasure, the moment of contact, the whole person was deeply immersed in it and couldn't extricate myself. After a passionate kiss, I kissed her cheek and slowly licked her neck and sucked it, leaving my mark.

"Hah...Jason..." I heard her moaning, which made me even more excited.

I slowly moved down to her plump breasts, I reached out and grabbed her breasts with one hand. I left my mark and kissed her breasts, then buried my face between them to smell her scent. It was such a wonderful feeling that I had never felt before, and I was so happy until forgot myself. Her fingers touched my face and I moved away from her, curious about what she wanted. She sat up and took off the shirt, leaving only the underwear.

She unbuttoned her bra let the straps slipped off her shoulders. She took off the bra and threw it aside. Her eyes looked at me and then looked away. I put my hands on her cheeks and kissed her lips, hoping that she would feel more at ease with me. I kissed her nose lightly, "Fuck, it's so great."

She laughed and said, "Pervert."

I pushed her down on the sofa and licked my lips. Her naked body, her seductive body, simply ignited my lust, "Little princess, I advise you not to fan the flames, it will make me more excited."

She covered her breasts with her hands and showed her eyes looking forward to me, "Because it's you, I am also excited."

Her words have ignited the passion deep in my heart. I took a deep breath and told her, "Look forward to it, princess. You don't have a chance to stop."

"I have never regretted it." She answered me with a smile.

Damn... Such a confident look, I really don't care about anything anymore, I don't want to stop. What the heck unreal feeling, so what, cherishing the moment is the most important thing. Now it’s my life with her, everything I’ve always wanted to have. She sleeps next to me, I sleep next to her, and my life is as simple and happy as I want.

I took off her panties threw them aside, and moved my hands between her thighs to rub them gently. She was so eager for me to get wet enough that could put them in directly without any lubricant. But I didn't want this wonderful moment end so soon, I ran my fingers back and forth over her clit between her legs. She tried to relax while I played with her clit.

I kept rubbing her clit where she wanted me and kissing her neck passionately. Her clit was fucking wet and relaxed enough so I tried to stick a finger in her clit in and out. What happened to her body! It was so wet and hot inside, I pulled my finger out and licked it to taste her taste, it was so fucking lovable.

She tried to focus on enjoying herself as much as possible without stressing, she gave up control of her body. She stayed so relaxed and soft for me, she finally got my treat - two thick fingers were pushed inside, so slowly and carefully that she had to resist the urge to lift her hips into them. Before expecting too much, I started fucking her with two fingers. She let my fingers fuck her sweet clit and I'd make her cum straight out of her.

"Hah...wait a minute - I'm going to -" she told me in an excited voice.

I shook my head with a satisfied smirk on my face, "Fuck...how much do you want me to fuck you? Such a wet clit is so delicious to see."

"Please! No! I can't do it anymore! -" She closed her eyes tightly kept making that sexy gasping sound that I loved to hear.

I kissed her temple tenderly and pulled out my fingers to see how wet they were. I smiled with satisfaction, it felt so damn satisfying. I touched her head and said, "Little princess, it's not time to rest yet."

My other hand quickly played with her cute little clit again, I let her close her eyes as her body processed the new stimulation, wiping her mind clean and bringing her closer to orgasm. I wouldn't stop rubbing her, feeding her wet fucking clit that suddenly blew heat down her spine. I saw her clenched fists, body twitching, damn it.

She let out seductive gasp "Damn, that feels so good. That's - oh no -" and then she cum. I pulled out two fingers saw they were already satisfied with the love juice inside her. Her body was so damn suitable for mine. We both longed to be entangled and embrace each other.

I licked her love juice and looked at her who was still panting. Sweat was secreted from her neck and breasts, and her breathing gradually calmed down. She sat up, her legs trembling slightly. She looked at me and lowered her head. I shortened the distance between her and approached her cute face. Her eyes flashed with charming brilliance. I knew what she was expecting. I closed my eyes and kissed her lips gently.

I smiled, "Are you satisfied? Little princess."

She blushed and leaned her head on my arms, "Of course. I am a little tired."

Sorry, little princess. I really don't feel fucking tired. What just happened just foreplay, I haven't released my desire yet. I must fuck her while she still has energy. I picked her up and walked into the room. I threw her on the bed, and she fell on the bed with a very excited expression. I combed my bangs back, "Don't stop. Little princess, I fucking want you."

She glanced at me slightly "Jason..."

I didn't wait for any response from her, because I saw her expression clearly longing for me. I climbed to the big comfy bed and my naked body was on top of hers. My hands moved to her breasts and started rubbing her nipples.

I could see the look in her eyes, my hands gently squeezing her thighs. "Talk to me. What do you want?"

"I want you." She said again. I fucking love her.

"I want you too." I smiled.

Words are no longer needed. I pulled her over and looked down at her tempting breasts. "Wow." I looked at her , she was shy and speechless for a moment. Her eyes met mine as my mouth drifted to her breasts. With one hand, I grabbed her soft breast and brought it to my mouth. My tongue reached out and flicked her nipple. A small whimper left her lips when I wrapped my lips around her nipple, tightening around it. I ran my fingers through her messy hair and my mouth hungrily moved back and forth between the breasts.

"You're so amazing," I said.

She blush...and let out a gasp of pleasure as I kissed her labia. I grabbed her legs with my hands and spread them apart, placing one on my shoulder and the other on the bed. I closed my eyes and kissed her pussy up and down as if I were kissing a lover. Take a deep breath and inhale her raw natural scent.

Finally, she opened her eyes and made eye contact with me. My tongue pressed against her fucking tasty clit, sliding up quickly, parting her folds around my tongue. I taste fucking divine. Once my juices hit her taste buds, she kept moaning.

I stretched out my hands to rub her nipples, holding her against me. A moan escaped her lips as I quickly flicked my tongue over her clit. My free hand slid to her pussy. A finger circled the entrance to her vagina. Slowly, slide it in. I curled my fingers upwards and slowly began to move it in and out.

She closed her eyes and threw her head back, letting her body fully appreciate the pleasure it was now receiving. Her legs twitched as my tongue and arms moved faster. One of my hands moved to her nipple and you pinched it, getting her attention.

"Wait! I'm gonna cum!" Her voice was higher pitched.

"Do you want to squirt for me?"

"Yes! Fuck!" Her back arched as her body shook.

I was hit in the face with her squirt. I opened my mouth and drank it in, the taste was so fucking addictive. I removed my fingers from her and quickly rubbed her clit. I pushed my face into her pussy and licked it back and forth. I growled excitedly "Fuck you, you're amazing."

I knelt in front of her and pulled her hips against me. I rubbed my raw cock against her clit, getting myself covered in her juices. How long had I waited for this moment? I put one of her legs on my shoulders and rested the other.

She suddenly flirted with me "Sexy, how you want my pussy."

"Let me fuck your lovely pussy. Please, I need to feel you." I kissed her neck softly. My hips rocked, eager to thrust into her.

"Shit! Ah — Fuck me, Jason. I want it so bad, I want you to fill me up so bad."

I rushed straight to her without any hesitation. She looked at my face. Her face scrunched up as she felt me ​​deep inside her. Put those few inches of my cock inside her and take as many as she wants."Little princess, that's it. You have me."

My voice is low and sensual. I slowly pulled back and penetrated her again, harder this time. Her loud moans filled the room as I slowly inch by inch pushed my cock into her. The way I can fuck her faster, she reached out and grabbed the sheets pulled them, her legs began to shake, and my cock hit her g-spot over and over...

"Oh my god! Jason! Fuck me!" I kept slamming into her.

She kept her eyes on me as my hips rolled toward her at a fast pace. The feeling of her wet pussy clenching around me and pushed me over the edge. "Fuck! You the fucking best! Little princess! I'm gonna cum..." I leaned down and bite her neck. As she moaned loudly, my cock began to throb and I could feel the cum I had pumped into her. I moaned her name softly. As I lay on top of her, she caressed my body with her hands, letting me catch my breath.

I pulled my cock out of her body and saw some semen flowing out of her cute clitoris. It was my fucking semen. I took a breath lay beside her and blurted out "Fuck... I'm so fucking satisfied..."

She turned around and leaned on my arms "I'm so tired..."

I gently stroked her sexy body "The Hell, I'm the one moving, why are you tired?"

She shyly hid in my arms "I'm tired of being fucked by you."

I closed my eyes and hugged her tightly in my arms "Hahaha, I can make you tired every day, just leave it to me with peace of mind."

"Get up and take a shower, you have work later." She patted my back.

I was a little confused "Work? What work?"

She looked at me in surprise "Hey, the famous tyrant Red Hood of Gotham City wants to skip work!"

I heard what she said, I subconsciously tensed up and let go of her, and I accidentally fell off the bed. I stared at the ceiling in a daze. She knew I was Red Hood. What the hell was going on? When did she know? I was confused and hurriedly climbed onto the bed again. She suddenly pounced on me and she held my head tightly between her breasts.

I felt it difficult to breathe and tried to push her away, but suddenly I fell into darkness. Until a dog barking woke me up completely, and my face was pressed by a corgi. I got up directly, and he jumped away immediately. I looked at the corgi it was Kirin. I fucking remembered. I took Kirin back to manor to take care of him for a while because Y/N was sick and hadn't recovered yet.

What the fuck was that dream just now? Was it a dream that I had sex with her? Was it a dream that I officially dated her? Was I having a fucking wet dream? Am I so horny? Fuck my dream! I lifted the quilt and looked inside. My fucking dick was already erect, and it was fucking hard...

I looked at my dick and babbled, "Fuck, Y/N so fucking erotic. I really want to fuck her... How the hell am I going to face her in the future..."

Chapter 15 End.

⚠️If you have any ideas, don’t be shy. Just leave a comment below. Your opinions would be valuable and will be added in story. ♥️💙

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[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise

Chapter 24: Into Enemy Territory 

The first gif cause our love sick cook, was wild in Dressrosa.

This second gif, is because once you read what I have in store, it'll all make sense (heheh) also cause Sabo is fine too LMFAOO

A/N: Yall this chapter has so much involved! We got betrayal, drama, passion, everything dressrosa has to offer. And we also have a Sanji POV, and a surprise guest, you wont believe who it is. Don't worry we will be getting more flashbacks as well, once you see who is the surprise guest, as Y/N and him have a history together. Thank you guys so much for following along with the chapters, I will go back to link previous one. Thank you for the likes and reblogs, as well as interactions and follows. Chapter 25 is about to be good! and chapters 26 and 27.... ohh they cooking! again all is fair in love and war ;) And without further a do lets get to it! 

Word Count: 5.3K

Sanji X Reader, Sanji X Y/N, One Piece Reader. 

Y/N POV… 

As we walked into the island of Dressrosa, the whole place came to life. The vibrant atmosphere was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. The streets were filled with the smell of delicious meals, and everywhere you looked, people were dancing. It felt like stepping into a dream.

“This place looks enchanting,” I said in awe, taking in the lively sights around us.

“Mmmm, smells good!” Franky exclaimed, his eyes gleaming as he sniffed the air. Luffy, Kinemon, and Sanji shared the same excitement, practically drooling as they took in the enticing aromas.

Zoro and I exchanged amused smirks at their reactions.

But what truly startled me was the sight of the dolls walking among the crowds as if they were human. They were everywhere, blending in so seamlessly that I almost didn’t notice at first.

“What... are those?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as one passed by, its wooden face unnervingly lifelike.

"Living toys?" Zoro muttered, frowning. "Weird place."

“I don’t trust this,” I whispered, stepping closer to him.

“Neither do I,” he replied, his eyes scanning the crowd, always on guard.Everywhere you looked, toys moved about like ordinary citizens, their wooden or mechanical bodies blending in with the bustling activity. Just then, a shout broke through the noise of the town.

"It’s happened again!" A toy frantically called for attention, its mechanical arms waving in alarm. "A man’s been stabbed again!"

“Again? You guys got a maniac on the loose or something?” Zoro asked, raising an eyebrow at the situation.

The toy in front of us shook its head, explaining in an oddly casual tone, “No, it’s just very passionate women, and they’re the jealous type, you know? So if their lover cheats on them… bad stuff happens.”

Zoro frowned in confusion, while the toy continued, “It’s always the pretty ones who are especially stabby.”

I slapped my forehead, muttering, “Great, just what I needed—jealous, stab-happy women.”

Luffy, unfazed as usual, crossed his arms and sighed dramatically, “Great, the toys are alive. I’m over it now! Come on, let’s eat!” he yelled excitedly, already marching off in search of food.

Kinemon then proceeded to conjure up our disguises. The men were dressed in sharp suits, blending into the refined crowd of Dressrosa. When it came to my outfit, however, I was left in a sleek yet revealing black mini dress. It had a high neck, but the back was open all the way down to my lower back. I wore tall black heels to match, and my weapons were discreetly strapped to a thigh holster, just barely noticeable under the short hem of the dress. My hair was pulled into a tight bun, with a few loose strands framing my face.

"Kinemon!" I protested, crossing my arms. "Why am I the most exposed here?"

Sanji, predictably, was in heaven. "You’re stunning, Y/N! Absolutely stunning!" he gushed, his eyes practically heart-shaped.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes, but then caught sight of Zoro, who was dressed in a sharp suit. I raised an eyebrow, unable to resist teasing him. "Wow, Zoro. I never thought I'd see you looking this... refined."

Zoro shot me a smirk, his eyes roaming over my outfit for a second. “I could say the same for you,” he said with a low chuckle. Then, leaning closer, he whispered just loud enough for me to hear, “That favor I’ve got coming... maybe now’s the perfect time to cash it in.”

My cheeks warmed at his flirtation, but before I could respond, Sanji burst into a fit. “Mosshead! Don’t you dare try anything with Y/N! She deserves better than some brainless swordsman like you!”

Zoro gave him a deadpan look, completely unfazed. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t asking for your opinion, curly-brow.”

The two started bickering again, as usual, but I couldn’t help but laugh at their antics. With that, we continued onward, Luffy already well ahead, practically drooling as he tracked down the scent of food like a hound on a mission.

As we sat at the table, food piled high in front of us, Luffy wasted no time stuffing his face, oblivious to everything except the delicious dishes in front of him. The rest of us, however, were more cautious, scanning the room for anything out of the ordinary.

“I must search for Kanjuro. There's no time to be sitting and eating, Sir Luffy!" Kinemon insisted, fidgeting nervously.

"Relax, Kinemon," I said, taking a sip of water.

“Yeah, besides, we need to gather intel first," Franky chimed in.

As we were discussing our plan, I noticed a blind man playing at the roulette table across the room. He was winning, but the dealer began to cheat. Sanji, puffing on a cigarette, muttered, “They're nothing but low-life thugs."

“Poor guy's about to get robbed," I said, feeling a twinge of sympathy for the blind man.

Suddenly, Luffy stood up, wandering over to the table just as the dealer tried to trick the man again. The blind man had bet on white, and sure enough, the ball landed on white. But the dealer, with a sly grin, claimed it was black.

“It landed on white, congrats gramps," Luffy said, casually continuing to eat from his plate, completely ignoring the tension building around him.

The dealer's face darkened with anger. "No, it's black," he snapped.

Luffy, unfazed, simply repeated, “Nope. It's white.”

A few bystanders whispered to each other, clearly recognizing the dealer's connections. "Doesn't he know who they work for?" one of them muttered.

"Looks like Luffy got himself involved again," Sanji sighed, shaking his head.

“Yup,” I replied, just as a waiter suddenly placed a glass of wine in front of me.

Startled, I looked up. “I didn’t order any wine,” I said.

The waiter smiled politely. “This one’s on the house,” he said, before walking away.

Zoro glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. “You gonna drink it?”

I grinned and replied, “You know I can’t turn down wine. But I'll share a little with you.”

I took a small sip, savoring the taste. “This is delicious,” I said, taking a few more sips.

Just then, the situation at the roulette table escalated. The dealers were about to strike Luffy, but before I could intervene, the blind man acted first. He unleashed a powerful attack that sent the thugs crashing through the floor, leaving a gaping hole in the ground.

“How the hell did he do that?!” Franky exclaimed, wide-eyed.

The blind man calmly made his way toward the exit as Luffy called out to him, asking for his name. But the man remained silent, disappearing into the night.

“This guy is no ordinary guy," I muttered, watching him leave.

Before we could fully process what had happened, Zoro suddenly looked down at his waist, panic flashing across his face. "One of my swords is missing... Shusui!" he growled. "How can I be so careless?!"

"It must’ve been the fairies," said a toy/waiter

“Fairies?!” I repeated, confused.

Zoro, without a word, bolted through the window, having spotted his sword stuck on a distant rooftop.

“You got cocky, now give it back!” Zoro shouted at the unseen culprit.

“Zoro!” I called after him, sprinting in his direction.

“Y/N, don’t follow mosshead!” Sanji yelled, chasing after us.

Kinemon joined the chase, shouting, “You will return that sword to its rightful owner!”

Luffy wanted to follow, but Franky grabbed him. One by one, we all took off after Zoro.

“Zoro, come back!” I yelled, struggling to keep up. "These heels aren't meant for gravel!" I cursed under my breath, running as fast as I could.

“Y/N! Get back here, leave mosshead alone!” Sanji hollered, still trailing behind.

Breathless, I finally had to slow down, glancing around and realizing I had lost Zoro. “Damn it, Zoro, where’d you go?!” I muttered to myself, scanning the area. There was no sign of Zoro. Or Sanji, for that matter.

“So much for staying close,” I sighed, gathering my bearings as I continued to search for them both. 

The streets of Dressrosa were a maze, and it seemed like I was just running in circles. "Damn it!" I muttered under my breath. "At this rate, I’ll never be able to find them."

Just as I was about to stop and catch my breath, I heard a voice yell out, “Catch the girl! Don’t let her get away!” My heart jumped as I saw three men rapidly closing in on me.

“Crap, not good!” I gasped, my legs already in motion as I sprinted through the narrow streets. My mind raced for options, and I clenched my left hand, ready to use my ability for a boost to escape. But before I could act, a strong hand suddenly grabbed me, pulling me into the shadows of a nearby alley.

A gloved hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my panicked scream as the other hand gripped my waist, pressing me tightly against a firm chest. I struggled to break free, my instincts screaming to fight back, but a familiar voice whispered urgently in my ear, “Hush. Relax.”

The men chasing me ran past the alley, still shouting. “She vanished! Damn it, keep looking! The boss wants her!”

I stayed frozen for a moment, my mind still processing the sudden ambush.

“Phew, that was a close one, Princess,” the voice said again, calm and teasing. Just as I was about to use my right leg to send him flying, he swiftly dodged, his reflexes too fast.

“That anklet I gave you is coming in handy, I see,” he added with a smirk. The dim light of the alley revealed just enough of his face for me to recognize him.

Realization washed over me, my heart skipping a beat as I whispered in disbelief, “Sam?”

The figure before me grinned, his familiar presence both a surprise and a relief. What was he doing here?

Sanji POV…  

“Damn it, Mosshead!” I growled, racing after him. “I told you to wait, damn it! Now’s not the time to wander off!” My voice echoed down the alley as I finally caught up to the green-haired swordsman.

Zoro turned to me with his usual nonchalant attitude. “Where’s Y/N?” I demanded, feeling the weight of her absence now that things were getting dicey.

“How should I know?” Zoro replied, shrugging as if it didn’t matter.

I clenched my fist, ready to punch some sense into him. “Damn it, Zoro! Now Y/N is more endangered thanks to you running off!”

The two of us immediately broke into our usual bickering, faces close, shouting back and forth.

Zoro scoffed. "If she’s in danger, it’s not because of me, Curly-brow.

“At least I’m not some lost swordsman who’s got no clue what’s happening half the time!”

“Better lost than chasing skirts every five seconds,” he grumbled.

I huffed, but before I could retort, something caught my eye. “Wait, what’s that?” I asked, noticing a crowd gathered just ahead.

“What, did you find the fairy?” Zoro asked, clearly uninterested.

“No… her,” I said, my eyes locking onto a woman getting ready to dance. Her movements were elegant and graceful, captivating the entire audience as she danced the flamenco, each step more mesmerizing than the last. For her grand finale, she tossed a rose into the air, and to my surprise, it landed right in my hand.

“She’s beautiful,” I said, staring dreamily at the rose and the woman, completely entranced by her grace.

Zoro rolled his eyes. “You forget how stab-happy these women are? A guy like you is going to wind up with holes all over.”

Still fawning over the woman, I barely heard Zoro’s warning. “Hmm, looks like you’re not lovesick for Y/N anymore, huh? Good, less competition for the rest of us,” Zoro added with a smirk.

That snapped me out of my trance. I turned toward him, fists clenched. “Oi, Mosshead, I’m still—” I started, but before I could finish, my gaze drifted back to the dancer as she winked at me. My heart fluttered.

“Oh, she can stab me as many times as she wants,” I muttered, clutching my chest, my mind clouded with affection. When I turned back, Zoro had already vanished. “Crap! He’s gone! That bastard gave me the slip!”

Frustrated, I marched forward, determined to find him, but my mind kept wandering. “Nothing but couples around here… it’s like they’re all trying to make me jealous or something.” I couldn’t help but picture Y/N in my thoughts again. What if I got a second chance with her? I imagined us strolling along the streets, her hand in mine, her head resting on my shoulder. What I wouldn’t give for just one more chance...

“Excuse me, sir?” a soft voice interrupted my thoughts. “Aren’t you the man I locked eyes with earlier?”

Startled, I looked up to see the dancer standing before me. “Wha—?!”

She stepped closer, her hands brushing against my chest. “Please, hold me in a romantic embrace,” she whispered, pressing herself against me, her lips suddenly sealing with mine before I could even process what was happening.

Soldiers nearby searched frantically. “Did you see where she went?!”

“No, looks like we lost her!” another soldier responded as they ran off in the opposite direction.

Her lips still on mine, I felt my body relax as I instinctively wrapped my arms around her hips. When she finally pulled away, she glanced around cautiously. “I think they’re gone now. Thank you, kind sir,” she said, preparing to step back.

But my grip tightened, refusing to let her go. “It’s okay… you can stay a little longer,” I said, hearts in my eyes as I felt the warmth of her touch linger. Blood trickled from my nose as I stared at her dreamily. 

“Believe me, the pleasure was all mine,” I said, still completely smitten by the dancer. My nose continued to bleed as I stood there, heart pounding.

She tilted her head with a concerned look. “Are you alright? Did I bump my head into your nose, perhaps?”

“No, the impact I felt was the shock of meeting you,” I replied, the blood from my nose dribbling as my thoughts raced.

“But it must hurt,” the dancer purred, stepping closer.

“I’ve fallen off a cliff... into the abyss of love,” I said dramatically, clutching my chest as if my heart was on fire.

“Please, don’t say that,” she sighed dramatically, a sadness washing over her features. “I’ve already given up on love.”

Her words struck me, but before I could respond, she continued with a heavy heart. “Every man I’ve ever loved… they—” she began, but I quickly grabbed her wrist, eyes still swirling with hearts.

“Yes! They all died happy men!” I declared, completely entranced by her. My heart was blazing now, burning with the fire of passion I felt for this beautiful woman. “But those goons back there... why were they chasing you? Please, if there’s anything you need assistance with, just say the word!”

The dancer lowered her eyes and sighed deeply. “Those men... they are the police. There was a man, things between us went sour, and... so I stabbed him,” she admitted, her voice trembling.

My eyes widened in awe. “So, it’s true!” I said, eyes sparkling. “The women here are so passionate that they stab for love!” Giving her a thumbs-up, I added, “OK! I totally get it!”

“Wait!” she cried out, her voice breaking. Tears began to fill her eyes as she continued, “You must stop... I beg you not to indulge this wicked woman. I might just fall in love with you.”

Her words made my heart skip a beat. She’s already falling for me!

“I should have told you,” she continued, her voice softer now. “My name is Violet. If you don’t mind... could you escort me to the next town? And while we are there, there’s... a man I need you to kill.”

As she blushed, Violet grabbed my hands gently. Her eyes, so filled with emotion, sparkled under the dim light.

I barely heard the last part—my mind was too enchanted by her beauty, her presence, her everything. “Of course, Violet,” I whispered, completely under her spell. “Anything for you.”

To my dearest Nami and Robin... to my beloved Y/N... I pray that you have it in your heart to forgive this shameful man, for I may have found the one, I thought to myself, torn between memories and the woman at my side. Violet. Her presence drew me in like no other, and as we walked closer together, I couldn’t help but drape my arm around her shoulder, pulling her in gently.

"Think of me as your personal bodyguard," I said with a smirk, hoping to sound both charming and protective. We continued our walk until we arrived at a closed restaurant. I led the way inside, and as soon as I stepped into the kitchen, I noticed it was fully stocked with ingredients. Perfect, I thought.

Suddenly, the cooks appeared, looking baffled and defensive. “Why the hell are you here!?” one of them barked.

Without a second thought, I swiftly knocked them out. I didn’t have time for interruptions. My focus was solely on preparing a meal for Violet. I moved with purpose, gathering ingredients and beginning to cook with the finesse only I possessed. The sound of chopping vegetables and the sizzle of meat filled the air.

But then, through the haze of my focus, I faintly heard voices outside. Mosshead? Kin'emon? I paused for a moment, recognizing them. I chose to ignore it, continuing to work on the dish. My hands moved automatically, but my mind drifted to Y/N.

What would she think of all this? The thought gnawed at me. I wondered if Y/N would be upset seeing me so close to Violet. I could almost picture her face—disappointed, confused, hurt, maybe?

"What's going on?" Violet's soft voice snapped me back to reality.

"Oh, nothing!" I quickly replied, trying to mask the conflict brewing in my heart. I smiled at her as I continued prepping her meal, pouring all my care into every movement, yet my thoughts kept wandering back to Y/N. What have I gotten myself into?

Y/N POV… 

I stood frozen, staring at Sam. My body wouldn't respond—shock had taken over. What is he doing here? I wondered, my thoughts racing. Could something have happened to King, John, and the others? Just as the silence began to feel unbearable, Sam broke through it with that familiar smirk.

"Well, princess, cat got your tongue? I never thought you'd be the silent type," he teased, his smile almost disarming.

Without thinking, I rushed towards him, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. “Oh, Sam, I’ve missed you so much,” I murmured into his chest, nuzzling closer to the warmth I hadn’t realized I craved so badly. “I didn’t think I’d see you this soon either!”

He hugged me back, but something felt off—he was too quiet. That strange silence lingered, making me pull back slightly, looking up at his face. That’s when I noticed it.

“Wait, Sam... when did you get this scar?” I asked, reaching out slowly to touch the mark etched from his eye to his right cheek. His hair had also grown longer, much longer than I remembered. “And your hair... it’s grown a lot too,” I added softly, my fingers weaving through his strands.

Sam groaned in response to my touch, almost like he’d missed it as much as I had.

But before I could say more, he grabbed my wrist gently and led me inside a small, dimly lit home. Rose petals adorned the floor, and candles flickered along the walls, casting a soft glow. “Sam, whose house is this?” I asked, confused and slightly unsettled by the sudden change in atmosphere.

He stood with his back to me, his voice low and serious. “There’s something I need to tell you, princess.” He took off his hat, revealing his messy blond hair underneath. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you…”

“What... what are you talking about?” I stammered, a sinking feeling creeping into my chest. Slowly, I reached out to touch his shoulder, hoping to ground myself.

"My name... isn’t Sam. My real name is… Sabo," he said, turning to face me with an expression that was both earnest and heartbreaking.

“What?” My voice shook as I tried to comprehend what he was saying. “This isn’t funny, Sam. What are you talking about?”

“I know you have a lot of questions,” he said, stepping closer. "But I need you to know... those two years we spent together on that island, getting to know each other, all of that was real. The moments we shared, the things we did... those were real."

My breathing became shallow, the room spinning as I struggled to process the revelation. Sabo? I couldn’t think straight, and before I knew it, Sabo gently cupped my face in his hands, trying to steady my frantic breathing.

“Y/N, just breathe,” he said softly, but his voice felt distant as my vision blurred. The last thing I saw before everything faded into darkness was Sabo’s face—his eyes full of regret and something else I couldn’t place. 

.

.As my vision cleared, groaning, I grabbed my head, trying to piece together what had just happened. “Wha... What happened?” I muttered, my thoughts still hazy.

“Well, I told you my real name, and you happened to faint,” came the voice next to me. My eyes widened as I turned to my left and saw Sabo lying beside me. Everything came rushing back in waves, the truth he’d revealed, the shock of it all.

Before I could fully react, I moved to get out of bed, but Sabo was quicker. With one hand, he grabbed both of my wrists, pinning them above my head. Instinctively, I kicked back, but he was already prepared. In a swift move, he straddled me, his weight holding me down.

"Now, Princess, you and I both know how well I know your moves," Sabo said with a calm smile, as if this was all some kind of game to him. He placed his free hand on my hip, rubbing small circles, his touch sending an unnerving shiver through me.

“Get off me!” I shouted, still struggling beneath him.

"Just hear me out, will you?" Sabo's voice softened, trying to coax me into listening.

“Why should I?” I shot back, anger rising in my chest. “You’ve lied to me for two years, and now you want to tell me the truth?!”

“You don’t understand, Y/N, I—” Sabo began, but I cut him off, headbutting him hard enough to make him loosen his grip. Seizing the opportunity, I tried to escape, but once again, Sabo grabbed my legs and dragged me back onto the bed with surprising ease.

“You’ve still got that feisty spirit, huh?” he chuckled, effortlessly pinning me down again. His blue eyes locked with mine, unwavering as he leaned closer. "I know you want to fight me right now, but just hear me out. After that, you can decide what you want to do."

His words hung in the air as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, then slowly trailing down to my neck. My body betrayed me, an involuntary moan escaping as he hit a sensitive spot.

Sabo smirked at my reaction. "I see you're still sensitive there." His tone was teasing, but his eyes held something deeper, something serious.

“What do you want, Sabo? Who the hell are you?” I asked breathlessly, still pinned under his weight.

“Well, are you going to relax so I can explain,” he teased, his face inches from mine, “or are you going to try and headbutt me again?”

His smile was both infuriating and disarming, and I could feel my resolve wavering as I debated whether to fight him or finally let him speak. Slowly, I began to relax, though my guard was still up. I looked at Sabo, narrowing my eyes. "Okay, fine! Talk!" I snapped, my voice betraying a mix of frustration and curiosity.

Sabo’s expression softened, relief briefly crossing his face before he began. “I’m the Chief of Staff for the Revolutionary Army. My boss is Dragon, who just so happens to be Luffy’s father, Your captain, Luffy happens to be my brother also.”

I felt my heart skip a beat at that. Luffy’s dad? What else had I missed? But Sabo kept going, gauging my reaction carefully.

“The reason I was on that island,” he continued, “was to gather intel for Dragon. I had to create that fake persona, Y/N, but you have to believe me—everything we shared, everything we did, that was real.” His voice trembled slightly, and I could see the weight of his words in his eyes.

“Why lie to me?” I whispered, my voice breaking as emotion started to well up. “Why did you pretend to be someone else?” Tears stung my eyes, the weight of the two years we had spent together crashing down on me. It felt like mourning someone I thought I knew—a person who didn’t even exist.

Sabo reached out and gently caressed my cheek, his touch soft but filled with regret. “I had no choice but to create that identity... But I swear, I never lied about how I felt. Everything between us was real.”

My breath hitched. “Is that why… you never came to send me off when my two years were done?” I asked, my voice cracking. His absence had haunted me, and now I knew why.

“Yes,” Sabo admitted, his gaze never leaving mine. “Once you left, I had to return to my mission. I couldn’t risk being exposed.”

He slowly released my wrists, sensing that I had calmed down, though he remained straddling me. My head throbbed with all the revelations, the betrayal, and the strange lingering affection I still felt. Before I could say anything, Sabo’s voice broke the silence.

“Do you hate me?” he asked quietly, his eyes filled with guilt.

I looked at him, my heart torn in so many directions. “I…” I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. “I don’t hate you, Sabo. I hate that you lied to me for two years… but I don’t hate you. I still see the same person I knew back then. And I still care about you.”

His expression softened, and without warning, he leaned down, pulling me into a tight hug. His face nuzzled into the crook of my neck, and the soft feel of his blond waves brushing against my skin made me giggle. “Sabo,” I laughed, the sound unintentional but welcome.

Sabo pulled back slightly, a mischievous grin spreading across his face before he kissed my neck again, his lips lingering. A soft moan escaped my lips, and I cursed my body for betraying me again.

“Sabo,” I gasped, the sound of his name slipping out before I could stop it.

His lips hovered near my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you moan my name,” he whispered, his voice dripping with desire as he continued his attack on my neck, his kisses growing bolder.

I threaded my fingers through his hair, tugging slightly, causing a low groan to escape him. The sound sent a shiver down my spine. 

I tugged at his hair again, feeling the heat between us rise, and Sabo let out another low groan, the sound vibrating through me. His lips found mine, soft at first but filled with something deeper, something he was trying to convey with every kiss. I pulled him closer, feeling the tension building, my body pressing against his as his hands moved expertly to unbutton his shirt. The fabric fell to the floor, revealing the toned muscles I had only imagined touching before. My hands roamed his chest and arms, exploring every inch of him as our lips locked in a passionate kiss.

A moan escaped me, and Sabo was the first to break away, both of us breathing heavily, our foreheads pressed together. My hands rested on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under my fingertips. His voice was low, husky with desire. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited to kiss you again," he whispered, his breath ghosting over my lips before he leaned in to place a soft peck on them.

I couldn’t resist teasing him, a playful smirk forming on my lips. "Is that so?" I murmured, my fingers trailing down his chest with slow, deliberate movements, causing his muscles to tense under my touch. “You seem a bit eager, Sabo.”

His eyes darkened, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Eager, huh? You think I can’t handle a little teasing?” His hand slid down to my waist, pulling me closer as his lips brushed against my ear. “You forget how well I know you.”

I bit my lip, stifling another moan as he nibbled at my earlobe. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” I whispered back, leaning in to kiss his neck, lingering just enough to make him groan again. My hands explored his back, feeling the tension in his muscles as I pressed soft kisses down his throat, each one a deliberate tease.

Sabo chuckled, his grip on my waist tightening. “Careful, princess,” he whispered, his voice dripping with that familiar mischievous tone. “You might regret teasing me like this.”

I smirked, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Maybe I’m counting on it.”

In a swift motion, he flipped us over, and I was straddling him, my back exposed through the open slit of my dress. His hands explored the bare skin on my back, sending a wave of heat through me.

Sabo pulled me closer, his lips finding my neck again. Each kiss was a tantalizing mix of affection and desire. “My brother is lucky to have you in his crew,” he murmured between kisses. “What I wouldn’t give to have you with me in the Revolutionary Army.”

His words were like a burning ember against my skin, making me gasp. “Luffy?!” I exclaimed, my mind racing. “Oh my gosh, how long has it been?! My crew—”

I tried to get up, but Sabo’s grip on my wrists tightened. “I need to go!” I urged, the urgency clear in my voice. “I have to find Luffy and the others!”

Sabo’s expression shifted from playful to serious. He stood up, pulling on his shirt as he spoke. “Before you go, you need to know something. You have to get to the Colosseum. There's something happening there that you can’t miss.”

I handed him his shirt, feeling frustration and concern building up inside me. “Sabo, this isn’t a joking matter!” I said, my voice tinged with desperation. “My crew needs me!”

He took a step closer, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. “You’re still as adorable as ever,” he said softly. “Go, find Luffy and the others. I’ll catch up with you soon.”

Without another word, I dashed out the door, my heart pounding with a mix of worry and anticipation. Sabo’s chuckle echoed behind me, slowly fading into the clamor of the bustling crowd. I had no time to lose—I had to find my crew and get to the Colosseum before it was too late.

.

.

.

.

[darkuselesssomebody]

𝕡𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕪 - dark!basil stitt x dark!reader

complete masterlist

words || 𝟛.𝟟𝕜

summary || in which the reader is a manipulative bitch - and basil snaps because of it

a/n || this is really, really dark lowkey eek!! also i don't know if this is too late (it's still 2023 where i am) but this is my entry for @romana-after-dark's dead dove december event! if you're into dark content, they're an s-tier pedro and oscar writer!

➵ warnings for specific content before the divider

➵ i never watched lightningface so if he's ooc excuse me, also, reader is very manipulative and lowkey a bad person too!!

➵ not proofread

➵ comment/message if you'd have a request

warnings || smut/dark (dddne)

➵ unwanted creampie and sex

➵ unprotected sex and cunnilingus

➵ spanking and slapping

➵ manipulation

➵ death threats and some pain play-ish stuff

➵ degradation/name calling

“tell me about it, right?” she giggles into the phone, feet propped up as she lays back on her couch, hearing some tinkering in the kitchen, “yeah, sorry about that, jas, that’s just - i’m getting my sink fixed right now.”

in the bathroom, basil hears that, and smiles a little to himself. she sounded appreciative, right? he’s helping make her life easier, which is what matters.

after a few more minutes, he’s done, and he sits back, sighing in relief. he sits back up, coming out and seeing her on the couch. god, is she gorgeous. her body stretches out, allowing a little glimmer of skin as her shirt rides up. she’s got a big grin on her face, talking to her friend, and she wants to just go over and press a sweet kiss to her lips.

“yeah, he was mental, i swear i’m still sore!” she jokes to her friend, and his face falls. ‘he’? who is ‘he’? basil swallows. it must just be a PT or something. yeah, that was it. after managing to convince himself, his smile returns. maybe she’d like a massage?

approaching her with that grin on his face, she looks up at him with an expectant raise of her brow, “just a second, jas.” she takes the phone away from her ear.

“done?” she points to her bathroom.

“yep!” he responds excitably, and she hums - not in appreciation, but in expectancy.

“good. thanks.” but it’s out of habit, “bye, basil” she forces a smile, shooing him off.

to him, it’s a wave, “yeah, see you! wanna - um, i was wondering if you maybe wanted me to order some food for you tonight? maybe we could eat together?” he suggests, and she has to resist a roll of her eyes.

“we’ll see.” she curtly dismisses him, and he nods, leaving and closing the door of her house, returning to his own just across the hall. returning to her phone call, she scoffs, “god, did you hear that?” her voice lowers - the walls are thin, “yeah, jas, he’s that neighbor i told you about. total loser, but he does whatever i want.” she giggles, “he thinks i’m gonna fuck him. whatever, that’s not my problem. can you imagine, he buys me food, he fixes my shit, i get him to vacuum sometimes. like my own little manservant.”

like her little dog.

basil was painfully in love with his neighbor. she was just so sweet, she paid him attention, and sometimes - when she was a little drunk or was sleepy, she’d lay against him, cuddling. the feeling of her thighs against his own, her breath on her chest, or the way her fingers teasingly toyed with the hem of his shirt - right above his cock.

maybe he didn’t have only holy intentions - yeah, maybe he did want to fuck her - but he’d never be greedy for more than what she gave him, not wanting to ruin their relationship.

and it paid off, that one night she had been wine drunk, and had invited him over, asking for only the cheap gift of thai food in return for her priceless company. as they sat back on her couch, watching tv as she ate and drank, there was a point where her hand had wandered - bored by the movie. her head laid on his chest, a leg hooked around his own, especially touchy because it was a cold night - and he was warm. as basil breathed in the smell of her perfume, he could imagine them to be dating or - if he could imagine a small glimmer on her finger - married. he held her around the waist softly, and she hadn’t yet pulled away, much to his joy.

her hand slowly trails over his chest and then his biceps, before sitting up a little, and pulling his head down to his. her lips find his, as she breathes into his mouth. it’s a lazy kiss, purely driven by the alcohol, and her need for warmth and contact.

his eyes widen in shock, but he wouldn’t let this opportunity go to waste, pulling her closer and - while he let her lead the kiss - his fingers go to her hair, pulling it out of her face to kiss her better. she whimpers softly, arms wrapping around his neck, before finally pulling away. she hums in satisfaction, burying her face in his neck.

“goodnight.” she mumbles, promptly falling asleep on top of him. his head reels, but he’s on cloud 9.

“goodnight.” he kisses the top of her head, laying back as he also lets himself fall asleep.

they never spoke about it again.

she didn’t let herself get drunk with him anymore, and he cursed himself as to how to solve the issue. nonetheless, they still spent time together, and he would still do anything for her, but things were different.

but her mind was working differently. annoyingly, that kiss with basil was getting her disgustingly hot and bothered. this wasn’t the plan: she wasn’t planning to ever actually fuck him, lest she lose all the leverage she had been building by teasing him. that’s why she’d been so strict in not touching him for the next few weeks: reducing her temptation.

but it was getting too much. she spent far too much time with her hands between her thighs, thinking of him (but nothing close to how much he’d do the same for her), and she needed an out. but, she also had to make sure basil wouldn’t become confident, and stay out of line.

she had an idea.

she called him over that night. an ordinary thing to occur, but, when he joins her shortly after, his mouth falls open.

she’s in this gorgeous, deeply hued camisole that just does down to her hips, and as his eyes travel lower, the lacy panties she wears makes his breath catch. she has to bite her lip to stop the smirk that threatens to grace it.

“basil.” she murmurs her name, and he snaps out of it, finally looking up at her.

“what… are you doing?” he thickly swallows.

“you don’t like it?” she teases, and he immediately shakes his head fervently.

“no - no - you… you look…” he doesn’t know how to describe it, “beautiful.” perhaps a cliche - but he doesn’t use it in the standard way. she exactly embodies the word. for once, a genuine smile pulls at her lips. it makes her heart warm, and she almost feels bad for what she’s about to do.

almost.

she gestures him forward, and he stumbles due to the speed at which he tries to reach her. finally, once he does, she points to the couch.

“sit.” she orders, and he agrees, getting on the couch, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “you’re not very subtle, basil.” she murmurs, slowly sitting on his lap. his cheeks burn.

“s-sorry?”

“you know how hard it is when you wanna hang out with your good friend, and you know all he’s thinking about is fucking you?” her voice is vicious, and he swallows thickly.

“i’m sorry.” he whispers, looking into her eyes, an evident begging in them. he’s pleading that she’ll forgive him. her fingers go to gently weave through his hair.

“it’s hard… you know?” she says softly, playing the victim to a tee, “i thought that… maybe that’s the only thing you see when you look at me.” she admits - but it’s a complete lie.

“never, oh - oh my god.” the thought makes basil sick. she - she thinks he sees her as an object?! “i swear, i see you as so much more than that - yes, you’re fucking gorgeous, but you’re so much more than just your body!” he assures, but she pretends to already be hurt.

“you’re just saying that, you know i’ll give myself up to you with these sweet words and-” he says her name softly.

“don’t think like that, please, don’t think like that.” he begs, taking her hands, “how - how can i show you how much you mean to me. please, tell me, and i’ll do it.” he’s holding her hands so tenderly, he wants to lavish her in ways she’s never even thought of.

she goes quiet, and he’s dead terrified he’s lost her.

“i want you to forget any insecurity you may ever have, i want to make sure you never lift a finger, i want you to never yearn and to only be satisfied.” his voice is thin - needy. “i want to worship you.”

that’s what she needs to hear.

“you do?” she murmurs.

“i’m begging you to let me show you how much you mean to me.” there it is. she smirks.

“can i… suggest something?” she asks - in faux timidness.

“anything.” he assures her.

“maybe… so i feel the most… assured… if we have sex, can i take charge?” he blinks. it’s not much different than their current relationship, so he immediately agrees.

“of course, of course. that’s totally fine.” he assures, and she smiles.

“alright, good - that’s good. thank you, basil!” she chirps, and his heart warms.

“yeah, of course.”

but that’s when the switch occurs.

“get off the couch.” she orders, and he blinks, a little shocked by her flip from a shy tone to a commanding one, but he complies, standing up.

she takes his place, sitting on the couch, before looking at him expectantly, “on your knees, c’mon.” his cheeks heat, as his brow furrows curiously, falling to his knees. “you said you wanna worship me, right?” she smirks, when he nods, “take off my socks.” she orders, the woolly socks that he knew she wore as she was always cold felt itchy against his fingers, as he pulls them off. she hums happily, and raises a brow when he presses a kiss to each sole, “fuck, i knew you were freaky.”she giggles, letting him kiss her ankles, “how much have you thought about this?” a small whimper escapes his throat.

“a-ages.” he admits, and she smiles.

“okay, stop.” she commands, and he stops his mouthing of her feet, “come closer.” he places her calves over her shoulders, shuffling closer to her - and, as much as he tried to be respectable about it, his eyes fell onto the small breadth of her covered by her underwear. she held his forehead - almost brutishly - to deter him, “behave. did i say you could look at her?” she scolds him, and he bites his lip.

“no, i’m sorry.” smiling, she lets go of his head.

“what should i do with you now?” she whispers, and he looks at her thighs pleadingly.

“can i touch your thighs? can i feel you?” he begs, and she laughs.

“go on.” she assures, as she pets his hair. he really is like her little puppy.

kissing up her thighs, she inhales her scent, brain going into overload.

“oh - oh, please, let me taste you, please!” she begs, and she smirks. he was begging - just as she wanted.

“take my panties off.” she whispers, and he sighs in relief, as if a massive weight has been taken off his shoulders.

"oh - oh, thank you - thank you," he breathes out, inching closer to let his fingers hook into the sides of her underwear, pulling them past her thighs and down, off her ankles.

when she finally spreads her legs, his mouth waters as the pretty prize between them, biting his lip.

"can i taste you?" he wants to confirm it. his body's buzzing, he needs her so bad.

"how bad do you want it?" she goads, and he bites her tongue.

"i don't think i can explain it." he admits, and her cheeks warm. what a compliment.

"yes, you can taste me." lowering his head slowly to her cunt, he spreads her legs, holding onto her thighs that are draped over his shoulders tightly. goosebumps erupt over her flesh at the sensation of his breath on her skin.

"you're wet?" he asks excitedly, unbelieving that he can coax this reaction from her.

"I'm not exactly feeling patient, basil." she warns, and he swallows.

"yeah, okay." he licks up the length of her cunt, and her breath hitches, catching in her throat as she puts her hand over her mouth, gently biting a knuckle to disguise her moan. motivated by the action, he spreads her wider, licking experimentally and quickly, sucking softly and harshly, making sure to keep trying different things until one finally breaks her dam of willpower, and her back arches as she loudly moans into the otherwise empty apartment.

"oh my god-" she cries out, panting as her hand clutches his hair, pulling him closer into her weeping cunt, desperate for his continued ministrations, "use your fingers." she gasps out, and he immediately obliges, bringing a finger to her hole as he sucks at her clit. he slowly pushes it into her, and - per more whimpered instructions from her - he curls his finger inside her, making her thighs squeeze around his head,

"just like that, keep doing just that." she assures, looking at him with the closest thing to love that she feels for him - desperation and satisfaction, because good lord, is she close. but it can't end like this. she needs to make this last longer.

just as she feels herself on the precipice of her climax, she pulls his head away from her cunt - to both her and his chagrin.

"why?" he whines, simultaneously pulling out his fingers, as she struggles to catch her breath. using him to help herself up, she stands, looking down at him.

"get on the couch." she pants, and he does as he asks, "take your shirt off," the instruction continues, and his deft fingers - one still drenched in her slick - quickly unbutton the shirt, pulling it off his broad frame. she bites her lip, bending so that her fingers can reach his fly and jean button, swiftly undoing them.

"i'm gonna fuck you. and you're just gonna take whatever i give to you, understood?" he nods silently as he looks up at her, and she hums in satisfaction and she pulls down his trousers. seeing his eyes all blown out is a crazy power trip, and it all becomes better as she straddles him. palming his hard cock through his boxers, she notices the way he twitches and how his moans gargle in his throat, all while he desperately bucks until her hips. "keep your hands behind your back." she instructs, and he nods, a whimper bubbling up to his tongue. after his hands are securely behind his back, she sighs happily. truly, she could do anything to him now, and he'd just take it. she wanted to know how much he could handle.

she started by fishing out his - inexplicably impressive cock. it was almost comical - how little sex appeal he oozed while hiding this weapon away from the rest of the world.

then, she simply ghosted her fingers over his tip, owning to a few stuttered bucks of his hips. she returned each of those with a scolding smack on any skin she could find - usually, his chest.

she slowly raised to her knees, lining him up with her entrance as she looks down at him, "don't move without permission." she whispers, and a strangled groan releases from him, making her laugh. finally, though, when he agrees, she sinks down on him, moaning out behind her hand as he does the same - though without the muffle and rather unashamedly.

she doesn’t move for a moment, and he waits.

another moment, and he waits.

another, and he’s done. he starts thrusting up, wanting the both of them to chase their pleasure, and her eyes widen, as she slaps his cheek. stunned, his movements immediately stop.

he dared to go against her word?

she hated that he undermined the power she held over him. pulling at his hair, her eyes blow out in anger.

“who the fuck do you think you are?” she hisses, and he winces.

“i’m sorry-” he tries, but she slaps him again.

“you think we’re equals? you can just pull that shit?” he wonders where all this anger is coming from, almost fearful. she doesn’t want to admit that her rage stems from the fact that she liked the sensation of his thrusts - enough to almost just… let him continue, even against her orders. she can’t lose that power she has on him, “you wanna know how little you really fucking matter?” she growls, grabbing her phone, and thrusting it in his face.

still disoriented, he swallows as he looks at what she’s showing him - a chain of texts. about him. they’re from her, to her friends, all mocking and making fun of him.

his heart, quite literally, shatters. he had thought this entire time, that - though they may be little more than friends - she at least liked his company, liked hanging out with him, appreciated him. but now, to read her stating how annoying and clingy he is, how she hated hanging out with him, but accepted it whenever he came with some gift or food, how she had used him, a heartbreak made his blood pump harshly in his ears. but when he glances at her smug smile behind the phone, it’s not just heartbreak. it’s rage.

“is this real?” he whispers, voice so low she can barely hear him.

“aww, poor puppy, thought i was - what? in love with you?” she mocks, knowing he won’t do a thing in retaliation.

that’s where she’s wrong.

trembling in rage, he grabs her phone, throwing it ferociously onto the floor, breaking it immediately. her eyes widen in shock, but before she can shout at him, his hands wrap around her throat, choking her with such a rage - she’s worried he might break her windpipe.

she claws at his hands, as he pulls her off of him, and slams her, face first, into the couch. her eyes well as she feels her nose smash into it, pained to hell as she cries out, trying to clutch it, but it’s of no help, as he’s already sinking back into her tight, wet, and suddenly rejecting cunt. but his pulling cock gets past the resistance bottoming out with a gurgled sigh of satisfaction. his hands go back to her throat, with a softer hold, as he wants to feel her pulse under his fingers. tearfully, she looks back at him in terror.

“basil, what are you-” he slaps her ass so hard, she wonders if his palm took her flesh with it. crying out, she sobs, giving up entirely, as she looks away, still clutching her nose.

“shut the fuck up, bitch.” he hisses harshly, voice and cadence not only deadly - but lethal, as his fingers flex experimentally on her throat. pulling her up so her back is pressed against his chest, and his other hand palms her tits, something he’d been wishing to do so long. but in his fantasies - he’s delicate, not so much anymore, as he roughly tweaks and pinches and grips her nipples.

then again, she’s a different woman than what he’d imagined as well.

this time, he’s not slow in his thrusts, he’s harsh and mean, thrusting in and out of her cunt to the sweet melody of her cries and sobs, muffled by the hand clutching her now bleeding nose. his moans are loud and gruff in her ear, causing an overlord of her senses, and she’s terrified.

“i should fucking kill you.” he hisses, and she whimpers, sobbing harder, “but you’re too good - of - a - fuck!” he punctuates every word with a thrust, but his voice sounds almost sweet and reassuring - only able to be distinguished as a facade due to the undertone of a growl behind every word.

“i’m sorry, please-” she begs, but he slaps her ass again, thrusting deeper, as he hits her cervix with each thrust, making her cry out in pain.

“did i say you could speak?” he hisses. she shakes her head, terrified, and shutting up. he’s getting close. unfortunately, she is too, “calling me a fucking puppy, saying you’re my fucking master - whose cunt’s the one squeezing my cock, huh? who’s the one begging - for - my - mercy?” he growls, once again, thrusting to each word, and she cums around him - a strange mix of the pain on her nose and ass, her restricted ability to breathe, and his sharp, filling thrusts are the perfect mix for her to reach climax, jolting and twitching as her cunt grips his cock, and her core tightens.

he holds her up even as she slumps in exhaustion, pulling her back by her hair to see her face as he tells her,

“i’m gonna cum in you.” he whispers, kissing her cheek tenderly. her eyes widen.

“no - no, please don’t - please, i’m not on birth control-” she begs, but he bites her earlobe to quieten her.

“shut the fuck up. you’re gonna be my cumdump. say that you understand.” he whispers, and she swallows.

“i - wait, please-” he slaps her again, and she squeaks, “yes, yes - i understand! i’ll be your cumdump!” he growls in satisfaction, finally releasing her and letting her fall forward onto the couch, as he grips her hips pulling her ass to him as he cums inside her, moaning loudly in relief.

there’s a few beats of silence, and afterwards, he looks down at her with a snarl. he’s disgusted, and pulls away - not by his actions, but that he hadn’t lived up to his expectations. she was an evil, and he was a vigilante. that - the cum dripping down her thighs, her perhaps broken nose, her whimpers and cries - that was revenge. it was necessary.

after cleaning up and getting ready, he looks back at her. she’s sitting up, curled into herself as she was turned away, crying into her palms.

she looked like a puppy - scolded for bad behaviors. and in many ways, she was.

he sighs in satisfaction.

it was necessary.

[stvenzz]

he smells like the sun.

that was your first thought about megumi fushiguro. it was surprising, considering his dark-colored clothes. you’d have thought he’d stink like a virgin nerd, but he smells like a warm sunny day. sitting next to him has made you realize how much you miss the days when you’d just drive off to the beach and sit there.

cramped in a small aula, you found yourself sitting closer to him than you’d thought. megumi doesn’t seem to care though, as your elbow keeps knocking against his. “-and of course, i’d like to remind you all that the campus winter ball is coming soon!” the dean says into the mic, and a flurry of groans follow. “it will be held in this very aula, with festive, non-alcoholic drinks! it will be a chance for you to bond with your classmates and get to know the faculty!”

“bond, like he boned one of the students last year.” you mutter to yourself.

that catches his attention. you smell like cinnamon. yes, yeah. like cinnamon rolls. megumi thinks, as he glances at you. he tries to think of why he hasn’t seen you around before - how he doesn’t recognize the cinnamon from your hair. you smile at your own joke, and he can’t help but smile a little too. not that it was funny, but because he thought you were funny. and alluring. and cinnamon scented.

“that’s it for today. i am hoping to see you all next week, alright?” the dean announces, but half of the crowd has already left to attend their morning classes. you start to pack up and leave, megumi does too. you think it’s the last you’ll ever smell sunshine indoors. he’s thinking of the cinnamon buns in the canteen.

the next time you see sunshine - yes, that’s the nickname you’ve come up for him - is during a dorm check. you see, you’ve been staying at a dormitory for a year with someone studying physics. nerds like that don’t usually stay too long in dormitories - they get too homesick and have to go back to their mamas or end up renting some other place less noisy or dirty. you’re kind of jealous, actually. the dorms are most of the time filthy with the smell of weed or tears.

“excuse me,” you hear a male voice chirp outside your room. “[y/n]?” groaning, you get up and fix your shirt. it’s supposed to be my off day. what the fuck is the nerd doing here- oh. there he was. in a pale blue button down and puffer jacket, stood megumi fushiguro - sunshine. “oh. it’s… hi.” he mutters, a light pink shade blushing his cheeks.

unbeknownst to you, megumi had been searching for traces of your cinnamon shampoo all over campus. “hey, do you… smell that cinnamon shit?” megumi would ask his friends, to where they’d laugh and shake their hands.

“you shouldn’t be smoking here.” he says, with a surprisingly confident manner.

you immediately become conscious of the small cigarette in between your index and middle finger, and you raise your eyebrows. “who are you?” you ask, pretending not to enjoy the warmth of his scent. “the new resident assistant.” he says, pointing to his clipboard. his eyes are deadpan, but inside, his heart is beating a mile a minute - he finally knows! you were his mystery cinnamon smell, as creepy as that sounds. “i meant your name, dingus.” you roll your eyes, taking a long drag of the cigarette. at that, his eyes seem to falter in surprise, but he shrugs. “shouldn’t matter. you know i could get you kicked out, right? just for smoking.”

the threat gets you thinking - why were you trying so hard to resist this nerd? “i’m almost finished. be patient, will you?” you smile sweetly, and it’s hard for him not to smile back. there’s an unspoken tension between you two, and it’s not the bad kind. in fact, you feel like you could almost read his emotions and his deadpan face. megumi’s eyes scan around your room, looking for anything he could report.

“well,” megumi scribbles down something on his clipboard. “it’s nice to meet you, [y/n].”

your heart starts beating funny — he didn’t report you for smoking. usually, you’d be more careful when smoking in the dorms, but this time, with your roommate gone and the absence of classes, you decided to just do it once, in your room. oddly enough, that’s the exact time the newly-appointed resident assistant, megumi fushiguro, arrived at your room, looking to check on the conditions of your place.

“you too.”

you put out your cigarette and settle with the fact that you may just never know sunshine’s name.

★☆ a/n: little blurb i wrote when i wuz in love with megumi.

[theobjectofmyobsession055]

Of Wonders and Witches: Chapter 1 (Zagreus x Reader)

I know this game came out like 6 years ago, but I've only just gotten around to playing it and I am OBSESSED. Specifically with Zagreus. So, in honor of Halloween, here's the first chapter of my witchy little reader-insert starring everyone's favorite god! I'm not sure how many chapters this story will have, but I have a very clear plot mapped out for it, so hopefully I'll actually finish this one in a timely fashion lol. Enjoy!

Next chapter

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Zagreus’ blood roared in his ears as he trekked through the cold, his entire body thrumming with adrenaline. He’d done it. He’d finally done it. After all this time, attempt after attempt after attempt, he’d gotten past Hades, felled his own father. And now, now he was only a hair’s breadth away from finally meeting his birth mother. He wondered what she was like, if he looked like her in any way. Achilles told him he took more after his father, but surely there’d be some family resemblance, right? Whatever the case, he was sure she’d be an improvement from his father, anyone would be.

That was, if he managed to find her amid all this blasted snow. Nyx had given him clear directions on how to get to his mother’s abode, but it was proving to be far less simple getting there than he’d thought. The battle with his father drained him of just about all of the strength he had, leaving him with several egregious wounds that painted red across the snow as he walked. His mother’s hiding place was much farther away from the Temple of Styx than he’d imagined, but he refused to give up now, not when he was so close.

He gasped for breath, clutching the dripping gash on his side as he continued to trudge through the snow, every step feeling like he was resisting the weight of the heavens themselves. He’d never felt more sympathetic of Atlas’ plight than in that moment. But he had to carry on, he wouldn’t let himself fall like this.

A rock jutting out from under the snow caught his foot, sending him sprawling out onto the ground with a thud. He groaned, his eyes squeezed tightly shut against the screaming pain in his head. His every nerve was on fire, his body wailing at him to stop. He tried to struggle onto his hands and knees, only to find that he couldn’t make his muscles budge.

It was cold. So cold. Not even the constant warmth of his flaming feet was enough to shut out the bitter chill seeping into his bones. And he was so tired. He felt the pull of Hypnos, lulling him into slumber. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to close his eyes, just for a second. He was so, so tired.

Zagreus watched with a detached sort of curiosity as crimson blood seeped into the stark white snow around him, the puddle expanding and expanding. He thought back to the wondrous sight of the sunrise he’d seen just minutes before, the red sun spilling its color all across his uncle’s vast realm. He wondered why he’d ever been ashamed of bleeding red—it was such a beautiful color.

And then, the world went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The scent of roasting herbs filled Zagreus’ nostrils. He groaned as he was roused from his slumber by the tantalizing smell, his head pounding. His eyes slowly fluttered open, his vision swimming slightly for a moment before his surroundings came into focus. He found himself seated on a plush recliner, bundled up in several soft, woolen blankets. He appeared to be inside a small cottage, the cozy interior decorated with paintings of creatures and places he’d never seen before. Bundles of herbs wrapped in twine hung in the windows, alongside various animal bones and crystals sitting on the sills. But the most striking thing of all about his new surroundings was the woman standing in the middle of the room, wrapped in a forest-green shawl and tending to a large cooking pot over the fire.

The woman looked up, her eyes alight with warmth as she regarded him. “You’re finally awake.” She turned to the cupboards behind her and retrieved a small wooden bowl, ladling a few spoonfuls of her concoction into it. She knelt down by Zagreus’ side and placed the bowl to his lips. “Drink. It’ll make you feel better.”

He did as she commanded, too tired and weak to resist. Warm, hearty flavors he didn’t recognize bloomed on his tongue, and he found himself greedily drinking down the entire bowl. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he’d been until his belly was no longer aching with emptiness.

Once he polished off the soup, the woman stood and filled the bowl once more. “Where…” he croaked, his voice hoarse and crackly. “Where am I…? Who are you…?”

The woman offered him a gentle smile as she set the bowl down on the end table beside him. “My name is Y/N. I found you unconscious in the snow, so I brought you back here to my home. In all honesty, I thought you were dead.” She retrieved a pitcher and poured its contents into a cup. “I’m glad to see that’s not the case. I don’t think I’d have the strength to dig a grave with the ground frozen solid as it is.” She chuckled, a low, soft sound that filled the cottage with warmth. She returned to his side and offered him the cup. “Water.”

Zagreus took the cup and drank, the coolness doing wonders for his scratchy throat. He coughed, dislodging the flehm from his esophagus. When he spoke again, it hurt far less. “Y/N… thank you.”

He was touched by this mortal’s kindness, shown to a complete stranger, no less. As he shifted, he realized that his wounds had been stitched together and bandaged. He could already feel his strength returning, his body beginning to heal his injuries. He picked up the bowl and drank deeply, savoring the satisfying flavor. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand in a very un-princely manner. “What is this stuff?” he asked. “It’s delicious.”

Y/N’s soft smile widened ever-so slightly as she watched him enjoy his meal. “Just pumpkin soup. Though I did add a few extra ingredients to promote healing. You’re lucky I’m the one who found you—not everyone is as well-versed in the curative arts as I am.”

Zagreus raised a curious eyebrow. A mortal with the ability to mend a god’s wounds with just a meal? He’d never heard of such a thing before. “Are you a witch, then?”

Amusement shone in her eyes. “You could say that. Though I prefer to think of myself as more of a healer than a true sorceress. I don’t spend my days cursing people I don’t like, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He thought of all the witches he’d slain in the Underworld, their gnarl-toothed grimaces as they spat hexes at him on orders of his father. Y/N didn’t seem much like them at all—kind, gentle, her appearance youthful and her voice sonorous. In truth, she was quite beautiful. No, nothing like the witches he knew of.

She sat down in a chair across from him, maintaining a respectful distance. She steepled her fingers together in her lap and pinned him with a curious, enigmatic gaze. Her voice lowered, far more serious yet no less kind as she said, “…I’ve seen many strange things come from the direction of the Temple in my time living here, but this is the first I’ve seen a person. Either you are very lost… or very lucky.” Her eyes shone knowingly as she looked him up and down, making him feel a bit exposed. “…And judging by the looks of it, I’d wager on the latter.”

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but she held her hand up, silencing the words on the tip of his tongue. “I won’t make you explain, I’ve no interest in prying. I’m sure you’ve encountered far enough opposition thus. Just know that wherever you are going on your journey… tread cautiously.” Her expression sobered, her keen eyes examining him as though she could see directly into his divine soul. “…I sense much darkness surrounding you, enshrouding you with the warm cloak of night. That will serve you well if you wish to save yourself from the gods’ wrath, but even the darkest nights yet have the possibility to be illuminated by Olympus’ gaze. All that is to say… be careful.”

Zagreus blinked, shocked that a mortal could sense Nyx’s blessing so acutely. No true sorceress she said, sure. But even so, she didn’t seem interested in using her knowledge against him, which he thanked the Fates for. Her words of warning appeared to come from a place of genuine concern. He nodded, his heterochromatic eyes gleaming with determination. “Thank you, kind maiden. For everything. I don’t think I would have made it through the snow were it not for your aid, so I shall heed your words—I’ll be careful.”

She smiled, and the entire cottage felt warmer. Zagreus stood from the recliner and stretched his stiff muscles. He still didn’t feel one hundred percent, but it was much better than being half-dead. He knew he’d be able to make it the rest of the way.

Then it struck him that he had absolutely no idea where they were, and thus Nyx’s directions were entirely useless. With a sheepish flush creeping up his face, he turned back to Y/N and asked, “Say, just for curiosity’s sake… you wouldn’t happen to know about any divine gardens around here, would you? Perhaps inhabited by a certain goddess…?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh! You’re looking for Lady Persephone’s garden?” A conflicted look crossed over her face, her brows furrowing together. “…Lady Persephone doesn’t take kindly to most visitors. I trust there is a good reason she remains hidden away here. But…” She examined Zagreus once again, her gaze piercing. “…I can sense you have no ill intentions. If you must go to her, I can tell you the way.”

He nodded firmly. “Yes, I must. Thank you. I will not forget your kindness.”

“Oh, feel free to forget if you wish. It is only the right thing to do, to help a soul in need,” Y/N said, as though she didn’t just save his life.

He took in the sight of the woman before him, sitting there with her hands folded demurely in her lap as she smiled up at him. His voice came out much softer than he intended as he murmured, “I don’t want to forget.”

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but he could have sworn he saw a touch of red bloom on her cheeks. She looked down at her hands in her lap. “…As you wish.”

Y/N instructed Zagreus on where to go to find his mother, and he was pleased to hear that it wasn’t far at all from their current location. But before he stepped past the threshold and back into the cold, Y/N stopped him with a gentle but insistent hand on his arm. “Wait, take this.” She unclasped her shawl from around her shoulders and placed it in his hands. “It’s awfully chilly out there. It’s not much, but it should at least help a little to keep you warm.”

He was more surprised than he cared to admit. Usually he was the one giving gifts to others, not the other way around. Besides, he was a god (not that she knew that), surely she needed it more than him? “Thank you, but I can’t take this. You’ve already done more than enough for me. Won’t you get cold?”

She waved away his protests with a dismissive hand and started affixing the shawl around his shoulders. It was heavier than it looked, a nice, warm, comforting weight. “Oh nonsense, I have plenty more just like it. Take it, I insist.” She took a step back to admire her handiwork, her lips curled up into a gentle smile. ���I must say, green is a rather handsome color on you, stranger.”

“Zagreus,” he corrected automatically. He wasn’t sure why he was giving her his name when he was almost certain he’d never see her again, but he couldn’t stop it from slipping past his lips. “My name is Zagreus.”

“Zagreus…” she repeated, his name falling off her tongue sounding even more addictive than the taste of ambrosia. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Zagreus. I wish you nothing but luck on your journey.”

Something deep within him stirred. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it compelled him to take her hand in his own and bring it up to his lips, placing a gallant kiss to her knuckles. “The pleasure has been all mine. Thank you again for your immeasurable kindness.”

This time, he knew he saw a red flush crawl up her cheeks. She pulled her hand away, which he released without resistance. But even so, a small, almost shy smile graced her lips. She cleared her throat. “Well, you’d best ought to get going,” she said quietly (almost reluctantly? Did he dare to hope?).

Zagreus steeled himself, standing up straighter. He had a mission to accomplish. “Yes. Farewell, Y/N.”

“Farewell, Zagreus.”

And with that final goodbye, he set back out into the snow. Y/N’s shawl proved to block out the cold just fine as he made the final trek to his mother’s home. Even though he was single-minded in his purpose, and he wasn’t entirely sure of what the future held, he found himself hoping that the Fates would see it fit to let them meet once again.

[doritochoi]

Office gift | S.M

pairing: song mingi x reader

genre: smut, non-idollau

warnings: pet name , unprotected sex, boss & worker relationship, mingi so fucking hot (ofc he is )

summary: you were late at your work and your sexy boss gives you an unforgettable gift.

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You were always in love with your boss. No one could resist him, he was so charming and handsome that he can make you melt in his touch immediately. Everytime when he calls you to come in his office to help him with work you fix your lipstick or lift your skirt a little for him to have a perfect view ,but sadly he didn't notice or maybe he didn't want to notice. Of course he saw everything you did for him, but he was waiting for the right moment and that moment came faster than you expected.

Being late wasn't a habit for you, but this time you were really late..What could you do? You prayed that something bad wouldn't happen or maybe you thought he wouldn't even notice.

You arrived at the company. When you wanted to open the door, a strong wind appeared, making you think that it's better not to go in and maybe you could message your boss that you don't feel very well but you couldn't do that .All your coworkers saw you that you came so you opened the door and entered. Once you opened the door you already felt his perfume. His smell was everywhere, no wonder why all the girls wanted to talk with him or spend time with him. He was too beautiful. You felt horrible going directly to his office, so you went to your office first to leave your things there then you went to him.You were looking at that door for several minutes. Song Mingi's office. You could smell the perfume again, but this time is was too intense so you realized that he was there.

You knocked on the door and he answered with a simple "yes, you can come in". Even his voice was sweet...Just like him. Once you entered, he was there. His posture wasn't an ordinary one, he was standing with his legs apart as if he was waiting for you to sit there. those big and squishy thighs. You wanted to touch them so badly.

You were staring at him for a while until you heard you name.

"Y/n. You've been staring at me for a while'' ,ofc you were .How can you not? His voice , his lips, his body you were in love with everything.

"O-oh really?"

"You know this is not the time to come to work,right?" ,he got up from the chair and walked towards you while you were walking backwards. He was a few centimeters from your face, he closed the gap between you two and bent his head to get close to your face.

"I don't like your attitude today, darling" he said that with his husky voice. A hand appeared on your waist making you startle a little.

"I should have given you this gift a long time ago, but I couldn't" ,he caressed your waist with his long fingers, grabbing a part of your shirt.

"What gift-"

"You know I noticed everything right? I bet when you're alone at home, you masturbate calling out my name and looking at my photos"

"How did you-"

"If you wanted to fuck me that much you could ask , im free all the time" ,he ripped your skirt reaching the floor, putting his cold hands between your legs feeling the wetness on your panties.

"Oh you are so wet and i didnt even touch you . Come on let me show you my gift . "

He took you in his arms pushing you on the desk tearing your shirt along with your underwear.

" Sir, that was expensive"

"Don't worry, i will buy everything for you"

He started to admire you, looking at every part of your body.He was playing with his fingers on your pussy, then he stuck a finger inside making you scream.

"If you're gonna scream like that, I'm sure everyone on this floor will hear us.

"How i am supposed to be quiet when you're teasing me like that"

"And this is just the beggining love "

That was it, he smashed his lips on yours feeling you want more, so he started to give soft kisses on your neck. You didn't like what he was doing so now you were on top of him, and he was only looking at you and the movements you were making. You kissed his neck, leaving traces of red lipstick, and you unbuttoned his shirt seeing his toned abs. Now you were extremely down . You unbuckled his belt feeling his hard cock there . It was big. Bigger than you could have imagined.

"Do you think i can handle it?" Its so big for me "

" Don't worry i will make sure he will fit you"

After some minutes it was a mess. Clothes were thrown everywhere. The office was filled with your moans and the most important thing , his big dick was in you , moving in and out. The pleasure you had was a very pleasant one.

"You're so tight , kitten " I love you" .Soon you felt him twitch between your tight walls.

“Come on kitten,cum with me.” he said cumming inside you while you also came.

“Oh god that was amazing.” he looked at the mess he did and he was impresed , he liked it so much , he loved your pussy so much.

"I promise next time it will be better in bed "

"So round 2?"

"Ofc lets go to my house" , you giggled and kissed his nose , then got up dressing to go home .

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[kaxenart]

Kaxen's BJD Hardcap Wigmaking 2024 Version

Pros of hard wig cap style:

The best method for short hairstyles (and I am a masochist who loves short swept-back hairstyles)

Are you the kind of person who gets tilted over lace front wigs having a line of extra net or not fitting your doll's forehead? This wig will fit and you can chop the wig cap even closer.

I hate hand sewing, so I never do sewn wefts with soft wigcaps, and sewn wefts don't work well for exposed hairlines so GLUE, GLUE, BABY.

Cons of hard wig cap style:

This wig will not fit on another doll unless it's maybe from the same company or has a really generic head-shape

Tools

Nonstick mat - Michaels sells Messy Mats which are very thin but stiff film mats that are nonstick. Silicone mats for pet bowls are often very cheap! A lot of craft-specific silicone mats have more price mark-up despite being the exact same thing.

Silicone spatula - for spreading glue. Just the generic silicone tools are fine. Comes in different sizes.

Glue of choice - Different glues react differently to different fibers and different colors. Pick whatever you like that has a slight flex to it and is waterproof once it's dry. If you prefer to style hair with high temperatures (especially the boiling water method), pick something that will resist high temps.

Glues I personally hate passionately: Beacon Adhesives Fabri-tac.

Why Fabri-tac sucks:

Smells terrible

Warps over time, wigs have literally stopped fitting the doll it was for

Rock hard when dry, literally the worst option for fabric???????????

Glue bottle cap always gets fucked up and useless.

Like jesus christ just get some fray check if you need fabric glue

Slicker brush: No matter how thorough you are with glue, you will have loose fiber. Comb it out. Buy two if you want to be able to have a poor man's wool carder so you can re-align fibers and use them later. WHY ARE WOOL CARDERS SO EXPENSIVE?

Fibers -

Suri alpaca: Very fine strands, low gloss, can use hair irons on it

Tencel: very fine strands, high gloss, can use hair irons on it, plant-based. Great for 1/6 scale and Anime Bullshit hair

Viscose (not pictured): very fine strands, high gloss, crinkles like hell if it gets wet, can use hair irons on it, plant-based

Silk (the silver wig lower down the post): very fine strands, high gloss, can use hair irons on it

Mohair: medium strands (thinner if it's kid mohair), high gloss, can use hair irons on it. Various levels of curly.

Synthetic: medium strands, high or low gloss depending on what you get, ymmv on hair irons check before hand how much temperature it can handle. Already made of plastic so plastic-y glue doesn't make it look weirder. Comes in the longest strands.

Wool roving (not pictured): fine strands, no gloss, doesn't really look like straight hair, but works well for styles like dreads.

Acrylic yarn (not pictured): fine strands, gloss level varies, cheap, but you pay in "spent all afternoon unraveling yarn to brush it out" MICROPLASTICS BAD.

I looked at combed mohair prices and it made me scared. How much fiber do I need?

1/3 heads (8-9in circumference): 1/2 oz is a comfortable amount for shorter styles and more the longer the hair will be

1/4 heads (6-7.5in circumference): 1/4-1/3 oz.

1/6 Mature tinies (3in circumference): 1/4 oz, the usual minimum order, will be a ton

Processing mohair yourself is cheaper, but it's a lot of cleaning and combing.

Making the wig base

Fabric base: sheer woven fabric or thin stretch fabrics (pantyhose, mesh hair nets, etc) in a color that does not clash too much with the skintone of your doll

The smaller the doll and the shorter the hair style (especially exposed hairlines!) the thinner you want to go to avoid seeing the wig cap too easily.

Cover the doll with plastic wrap, tighten the fabric as much as possible to mold to head, spread glue around so fabric will stay in this shape.

Putting rubber bands around ears helps shape.

Putting the fiber on

I'm pretty sure preparing wefts beforehand by gluing them on a nonstick mat and then cutting off pieces to stick on the wigcap is easier for exact placement, but I think that takes too long, so I just glue that straight on the wigcap.

I prefer not to use sewn wefts because I don't like that chunky line.

Work back to front and/or wherever the hair parts.

Hold up a small lock of hair and then use the silicone tool to swab a lil glue on it.

The smaller the doll, the smaller bundles you want to add the hair in so the bulk level isn't too crazy. Not as big of a deal for 1/3 scale dolls, the biggest deal with 1/6 dolls.

Hairline and hair parting methods

Rooting

I use the rooting tool from Dollyhair (but you can basically use any small hand tool with an adjustable chuck that can hold the rooting needle)

Pros:

Imitates growing hair

More versatile in styling options if you root a large sections of the wigcap because then the hair can flow in different directions without exposing which way it was glued

Cons:

Slow, the more realistic you want to go, the smaller each root plug should be. I use size 8 or size 6 needle on 1/3 dolls, but I could probably go smaller.

Tiny bits of hair and glue inside the gap may affect the fit of the wig cap.

Takes three billion years to dry the inside because you will swab glue on the inside of the wigcap and then smoosh the wig cap against plastic wrap on your doll's hair to keep the wig cap properly molded to your doll's head

Works terrible on mature tiny 1/6 wigs

TTRPG Mini Grass Style

Pros:

Fast, just put a daub of glue and slap a tuft on

Hair can be pushed in multiple directions without looking awkward

Cons:

Harder to do with longer hair and thicker fibers, may just tip over before the glue dries. Works better with short suri alpaca or tencel than mohair

Fold Over Method

Pros:

Easy!

Can hide wigcap edges

Cons:

Not realistic

Works worse with stiff fibers that may not lay flat after being folded over (may need heat treatment to work)

Ugly glue zone

Chopping the wig open to cram in fibers where the hair parting is

Pros:

Less ugly glue zone than the foldover method

Cons:

Margin for error for not warping the entire wig cap is not great! More risk than the rooting method.

Wildcard showing up with a steel chair! (mostly because this doesn't really need a separate post)

Flocking + painted edges

Pros:

Fast, swab on the adhesive and shake a ketchup bottle of fiber powder on it.

Useful for shaved hair

Cons:

Well, now you have Craft Herpes (glitter, fiber dust, y'know how it is...)

Not all doll sculptors have very flush headcap boundaries

Gotta redo the face-side of the flocking whenever you want to change the face-up