#dark chocolate is the best type of chocolate

[macabresque]

genuinely kinda terrifying how similar i am to mr remus john lupin, we got:

bad hip, bad knee, chocolate lover, annoying black haired best friend, always reading literature, used to run a study group, self mutilation, scars all over body, connection to the moon, morbid obsession with david bowie, in a four person friend gorup with a specific name, dresses in "worn down" clothing, always called "old" or "grandpa", quiet kid, spends a lot of time studying, chronic medical issues, chronic mental illness, concerning family relations, is always shipped with best friend, minor smoking addiction, friend group who has people who are exactly like sirius, james, and peter, lifetime friend is extremely similar to lily evans, will probably not live to an old age, special connection with a specific tree.

there's probably more.

never have i related to a character more in my life what is this 😭

[perilegs]

i need to learn to bake something new as everyone at work already knows i'm bringing them some carrot cake on friday....

[whatimdoing-here]

My cookies never turn out like Tumblr pictures 😂

[glossgojo]

father charlie mayhew x undercover detective fem! reader/that one fleabag scene

5k words (i went crazy with this one)

oh boy where do i begin

TAGS: siren reader!, AFAB reader, religious themes, nonreligious reader, confession booth is sexy, oraI male receiving, big d!ck charlie, dubious consent, p in v, no protection, breeding cuz duh it’s me, blood k!nk (if u squint)

after lois was nearly detained for being belligerently drunk at work, the FBI called you in. not to work alongside her no, to survey and investigate the community. the crimes surrounded her. you became lois’s daughter’s “friend” living with her and hanging around whenever you could. fortunately for both of you, lois did actually like your company and so did her daughter.

with some miracle you became a part of her everyday life, even tagging along when she met sister megan once. the nun was peculiar and although you weren’t nearly as trusting as lois you liked her enough to fake your way into an unlikely friendship. you the hard on her luck “college student” and her the eccentric murder-obsessed nun. it worked well enough for a cover story and she seemed to buy it. given your experience you knew enough about murderers to get along with her, pretending to share her passion for serial killers and the like. she had mentioned visiting the diner over text one day, you thought it a great opportunity to get out and people watch but what you didn’t expect was that she had company.

you knew megan was unconventional to say the least but you didn’t expect her to be on a date with, the looks of it, a lady killer. the closer you got the more you had to mask your reaction, she was with the new priest. you just didn’t expect him to be near your age and straight out of a GQ magazine. you willed a smile to your lips as you sauntered to the side of her booth, throwing an around the back of her seat and leaning down. megan tore her eyes away from the priest, meeting yours after what felt like minutes. you didn’t blame her, you were having a hard time ignoring him as well. “megan! hey i hope i'm not interrupting.” you finally looked pointedly towards him, your smile withering as you met his chocolate eyes. you hadn’t seen eyes so dark in a while.

“did something happen?” she assumed you had an update, it wouldn’t be the first time since you lived so close to lois. you sometimes told her details to gain her trust, of course clearing it with lois first. you pretended you did, pretended whatever you had to say was not for the eyes of a very curious priest. his eyes hadn’t left you since you interrupted.

“no, uh we can talk later.” you motioned slightly towards him and megan realized she’d never made introductions. she broke eye contact turning towards the priest, finding him already looking at you, well more so the small sliver of skin your crop top displayed above your skirt from the way you stretched over her booth. she knew father mayhew was less traditional but she didn’t expect this.

“oh y/n this is father mayhew.” you looked at him waiting a beat before you smiled brighter than before, he was intrigued to say the least. you were confusing him, sending signals he couldn’t quite decipher. maybe he wasn’t your type because you seemed wholly unaffected by him. that or you were just good at hiding it.

“nice to meet you mr.mayhew.” there was no way you were calling him father, you weren’t religious much less catholic.

“father-“ megan started to correct you and you cocked your head to the side, ready to remind her you didn’t believe in organized religion.

“charlie is fine, please y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” he cut in before you two began your conversation, seeing the way your eyes narrowed at the correction. your eyes were back on him as soon as he said your name, masterfully hiding how your stomach flipped at it coming from his lips. it didn’t matter to him that you weren’t religious, hell it might be for the best if you weren’t. he would rather never see you or your red heels ever again.

“charlie, i’ll leave you two to it.” you attributed the startling attraction you felt to the taboo of it all. a priest, sinfully handsome, and from the look of his shoulders and arms his body was even more unholy. your glances had been brief but they were enough to spike your curiosity.

“please join us, i’d be interested to hear whatever you were about to share.” there was that egotistical expression on his face that made you think he didn’t usually get no from women.

“oh i don’t know it’s kind of a secret. can you keep a secret charlie?” you were pulling out all the stops, straightening your posture, batting your eyelids, even cocking your head to the side and if megan wasn’t so transfixed by his reaction she would’ve taken notes. he was completely drawn into you, reminding himself to blink and respond when you a smile twitched at the corner of your lips when you were met with silence. you knew you had him and he knew too.

“let’s pretend this is confession.” he drew his arms out, leaning back against the booth and you took the challenge, sitting next to megan before she could try to leave you two alone. the scent of your perfume hit him as you sat down, sensual and distinct. he’d remember it for days.

“sure confession, i’ve always liked the notion. there’s something so sexy about the whole thing don’t you think megan?” charlie watched you try to shift the subject away from whatever you came to say. he wasn’t so naive. however one thing became clear, you didn’t trust him.

“oh geez, i guess it is sexy. you’re dishing out your deepest darkest secrets in a small box where you can’t see the other person.” he could see the way your eyes softened around the edges when you looked at megan. and the way they changed when you looked back towards him. he hadn’t felt so wholly consumed by someone. whatever trap you had laid out, he was ensnared.

“i’ve always wondered who a priest confesses to?”

“God.” his eyebrow cocked at the question, eyes lighting up in amusement and you bashfully nodded your head.

“ah right.” megan laughed at your response, finding the exchange a bit trivial. she was itching to hear the new information.

“i’m gonna head back to the church, can’t exactly leave it unattended this long. sister it was great to speak with you and again nice to meet you y/n.” you waved him a goodbye as he got up and walked past you both, your eyes never leaving him until you couldn’t crane your neck much further. megan shook off the worries that were beginning to surface and instead pestered you to spill your guts. you did as soon as the diner’s bell rang to signal the door closing. you told her what you had rehearsed all the while being haunted by the ghost of father mayhew’s appearance.

the murders continued and you spent late nights with lois spinning every possible theory. you couldn’t scratch the itch that bothered you about megan and charlie. instead of asking megan to meet you, you decided to visit the father himself. although you would play it off as a last minute plan you carefully dressed for the occasion, a baby pink cropped cardigan covered your lacy tank top fit with high waisted flare jeans that hugged your curves just right. it looked casual and your skin was indeed covered enough for church but if you stretched or raised your arms even slightly your skin would show and you knew his eyes would find their way there just like before. you wore baby pink platform heels to match even, your hair up in a seemingly effortless updo that actually took you thirty minutes to perfect. and to top it all off you made sure to smell downright sinful and gloss your lips to the heavens.

he didn’t stand a chance.

you were grateful to find the church empty save the priest in question sitting in the pews reading what you assumed was the bible. the click of your heels drew his gaze over his shoulder, he would lose this battle without a doubt in his mind. he only hoped god would forgive him after. he rose to stand, abandoning the bible with ease and a smile crept to your lips as he met you in the walkway between the pews.

“y/n, what a surprise i thought you weren’t religious.” he didn’t think he’d see you again, not like this at least. maybe only in his dreams or when the desire deep inside him took over.

“oh i’m not, just curious.” you cocked your head to the side and charlie had a sneaking suspicion you got whatever you wanted when you did that. he wasn’t a stranger to using his looks to get things handed to him, he just didn’t expect to be so easily swayed by it himself.

“anything i can help you with?” as much as he would have liked to continue this staring contest he had an idea you were here on a mission. you had unsuccessfully hidden how taken you were with him. now standing at his full height you were finding it hard to disguise your attraction. he was tall, much taller than you had figured and even in your heels you came up to his shoulder. his body was crafted for sports, for modeling, for anything but the cloth. the sheer strength he wielded was going to waste, you wondered why he needed it all.

“you and sister megan are so wholly devoted to all this. i’ve never had that, something so…guiding.” he invited you to sit next to where he was situated before, you did with ease crossing your legs and sitting closer than you should be.

“your morals surely come from somewhere.”

“my parents, they weren’t religious, at least not catholic. all these murders, it just made me wonder.” you spoke in hushed whispers, the church was eerily quiet, so starkly different from the chaos of lois’s home.

“you’re scared, it’s reasonable to be. faith can give you strength but it can’t fix everything.” his head turned down towards you, onyx eyes sucking you in, you were captivated.

“hey i thought i was the atheist here.” you bumped your shoulder against his or really your shoulder against the muscle of his arms. he sucked in a breath, finding himself thinking less of religion the more he looked into your eyes. charlie drew the bible in front of him, turning the page to where he knew he’d find distraction.

“Isaiah 41:13 God promises to comfort and help those who are worried, and to take their hand and guide them through difficult times.” he turned the page to continue, not licking his finger in time and cutting his finger on the paper. it had never happened before and he didn’t even notice it until you listened on, eyes naturally drawn to his large veiny hands and then the pearl of blood that threatened to drop on the spotless floor.

“oh charlie,” you took his right hand in both of yours, thoroughly stopping his reading. you did the first thing you could think of, not wanting the blood to spill anywhere, bringing it to your lips and licking it off, meeting his gaze bashfully. the familiar taste of salty iron lined your teeth. the wet warm lap of your tongue against the pad of his finger combined with the sheen of your lips and your eye contact made charlie suddenly very aware of his corporeal form, all the rest of his blood rushing south. you did it so casually, as if consuming his blood was as natural as wine. the quiet vulnerability making him twitch in his pants. he thanked god it wasn’t well lit in the church or the bulge in his black slacks would be apparent. fortunately for him you were also too embarrassed to notice.

“s-sorry i just didn’t want it to spill.” you dropped his hand quickly, ignoring the warmth between your legs and opting to look very intently at the first button of his dress shirt. he needed to diffuse the situation before he coaxed you upstairs and smudged your damned lip gloss.

“it’s alright, i’m gonna grab a bandaid.”

“okay i’ll be hiding in the confession box trying not to burst into flames.” he laughed at your admission, he hadn’t expected you to be so embarrassed. it was probably the hottest thing he’d experienced and he thought you would own it, own that you were unabashedly seducing him. perhaps he’d misjudged your intentions all along. he came back to empty pews and he scoffed at the realization you were actually in the booth.

“what do you wish to confess?” he assumed the position, taking it as seriously as he could muster. part of him was wishing you would just tell him something substantial about yourself, he didn’t even know what you did for a living.

“how much time do you have?” charlie huffed a laugh at your words and you liked his laugh, it was airier and lighter than you expected. “i suppose ill start with the most recent sin, i embarrassed myself in front of a priest. surely that’s against some rule.”

“not entirely, embarrassment isn’t a sin.” he crossed his arms across his chest, endeared by your admission.

“right, what about lust?” he closed his eyes, he’d nearly gone half-soft but here you were painting deadly images in his mind. he felt like a teenage boy, rock hard and trying to will it down.

“lust, one of the seven deadly sins, but it can be forgiven. that is if you don’t act on it.”

“ah i’ve never been good at that part.”

“i can pray for you, kneel with me.” you did as he said, finding it hard to deny him of anything when his voice was so deep and commanding through the grated screen. you waited a beat and then another, breathing out in and out. you wondered if he was trying to remember a prayer or you were too far gone for one that readily came to mind. instead you heard him grumble under his breath, the church far too quiet for it to go unnoticed.

“fuck it.” you blinked your eyes in surprise, the wood digging into your knees as you waited another beat and the curtain to your side was drawn open and charlie stood in front of you. the sight of you kneeling nearly made him pass out, he swore he’d never been so hard in his life.

“tell me no.” his large hand, now with a bandage on one finger, slid to the side of your face, tilting your face up and up until your neck craned to meet his as he stepped closer. the heat of his body radiated against you. his thumb pushed at the plush of your bottom lip, the lip gloss was as sticky as he imagined, drawing your mouth open. your eyelashes fluttered at the gentle pressure, the coaxing, the slow sensuality of it all. you felt as if you would actually burst into flames, you wished you had worn a skirt. the denim of your jeans felt like hot coals against your skin, your underwear sticky with need. he could see the desire dripping from your gaze, but he needed to be sure.

“i can’t.” you whispered, like the obedient girl you were. and that was enough for him, he shoved the thumb fully between your lips, you hummed at the intrusion. the warm wet heat of your mouth made him whimper as you swirled around the finger sucking it like you wanted so desperately to do something else. your gaze finally moved from his eyes down the length of his body to his slacks, you raised up on your knees and you were eye level with his bulge. even in the dim light you could tell he was massive and your jaw would be sore tomorrow.

“father let me help you, please?” he huffed a breath at the name, there was no going back now though, he knew what he was doing making you kneel. he nodded at your request, removing his hand from your face so you could do as you pleased. the urgency in your motions made him scoff as you practically tore his zipper down and cupped his bulge. you fidgeted to get his length through and when you did you grinned at the sight. the shadow of his length covered your face and while you were intimidated and failing to hide it you still licked tentatively at the furious red tip.

“good girl.” he smiled down at you and you squeezed your thighs at his words, cleaning up all the precum along his slit. he was so big you didn’t think you’d get him even halfway down your throat, but you were never a quitter. your hand circled his base, one cupping his heavy balls as you licked along his shaft, veins protruding angrily and you kissed the tip one more time before flattening your tongue against the bottom of him, stretching your mouth as wide as you could to accommodate his girth. it was a struggle to attempt and you groaned at how hard it was. he chuckled at your frustration, he couldn’t deny how hot the whole scene was. he placed a hand on your head, guiding you down his length and you moaned at the feeling, shivering from how badly you needed him. you wished for some sense of relief and so you took one hand off his balls and tried to touch yourself. it was no use because charlie saw you, catching your wrist. he was gentle until then, forcing you down his length and you gagged. he was so heavy and thick you felt like you couldn’t breathe. the sensation made you nearly lightheaded and he finally released his grip letting you relax and slink back. you got into a comfortable rhythm then, pumping the length you couldn’t reach and swirling your tongue along his veins while moving up and down his length. he could tell he was close from the small groans and whimpers you could hear, his grip on your wrist tightening until he let go completely and pulled you off him. he tapped his cock against your tongue, debating if he should finish this now or give in fully to what he needed.

“tell me about your sin.” your eyes glazed over as he held his cock away from your mouth, letting you speak but making you mourn the heavy feeling. it took you a few seconds to remember what he was talking about.

“i’ve touched myself thinking about this man, but he’s devoted to someone else, to god. it never feels as good as i know he can make me feel.” your gaze traveling from his cock to his eyes, he jaw clenched as he looked away before leaning down and lifting you effortlessly out of the booth and into his hold. your legs looped around his waist and your arms around his neck. he was strong and solid against you, and you whined at the slightest hint of friction of your core bumping his belt buckle.

“we can attone later.” it’s all he says as he’s walking purposefully up the stairs and down a hallway, the walk is long or at least it feels that way when you’re nearly drunk from desire.

your back hits something soft, you realize it’s his bed as he’s climbing over you. you sit up, unbuttoning his shirt while he’s doing the same to your pesky jeans. his shirt is unbuttoned before he’s pulling them off you and you marvel at the sculpted muscles of his body. you're not sure if you’re drooling but you could be. he doesn’t bother to take your heels off, opting for your cardigan and crop top next. and you whine as you try to reach the buttons of his slacks, he tucked himself back in at some point and you don’t like the insinuation. charlie can’t help but laugh at you, maybe you weren’t the femme fatale he thought you were. “patience is a virtue.” he’s got you in your bra and panties splayed out under him and he relished in the sight of your lip gloss smudged. in the light of his room he could see all the sinful details of your body and he couldn’t wait to wreck every part he hadn’t touched yet. he kneels in front of you, shirt gone and his slacks unbuttoned, watching your chest rise and fall in anticipation as you maintain eye contact. he can tell you’re struggling to, the way your eyelids droop and narrow. when he’s finally bare in front of you, you’re looping your arms around his neck and pulling him down, finally kissing him and it’s as messy as you hoped for. all teeth and tongue, he bites your lip hard enough to draw blood and you groan into his mouth. he’s feral and you can’t help but arch into him, the hard planes of his body pressing so deliciously against you, you silently wish you could grind against his abs for some kind of friction. charlie pins your wrists above you with one of his hands, the other deftly unclasping your bra, an action that speaks volumes of his experience.

he doesn’t loosen his grip on your wrists even slightly, somehow in control despite the rabid look in his eyes, trailing his lips down your neck, biting and sucking likely leaving marks for tomorrow. you buck your hips into him, desperate for something, anything. he’s so hard against your core, sliding against your stomach. you can’t imagine he’ll fit, not with how far up your chest his length reaches. your thoughts are drawn back to the hot mouth that’s latching to your nipple, bitting and sucking like it’s the last thing he’ll do. charlie groans around your breast, massaging the other one with his hand rough palms creating a friction you try to get closer to. he’s slurping and biting so roughly you’re whining without realizing, tears pricking your eyes from the sharp pain. it’s so devastating you think it might be the way you want to go out.

and when you feel you might just come from his mouth on your breasts, he’s moving off you with a pop to his lips. it’s reminiscent of your actions downstairs and his cock twitches at the image. he leans back to take a look at his work releasing your wrists, bite marks and bruises littering your shaking chest and his lips curl in a smile. you think you’ve never seen him genuinely happy until now. he stays out of your reach kneeling between your spread legs and you almost complain until he’s peeling your underwear off you, it’s sticky and you revel in the cool air finally grazing your heat. charlie’s eyes are inexplicably drawn to how you’re nearly dripping onto his sheets, the light illuminating how badly you needed him, and from the looks of it it was just as long as he did. you can’t help the moan slip from your mouth when he’s biting his lips and spreading your folds to watch a fat wad of arousal drop down to your ass.

your pleasure ends when you see him leaning down for a taste, far too gone for any more foreplay. you need him and you need him now. you’re twitching when you slide your fingers into his hair, drawing your gaze to him. the hunger in his gaze doesn’t dissolve but the black of his eyes seems to soften when he sees your wrecked expression.

“please i need your cock, now please.” you’re begging and charlie can’t say no to that. he’s been aching for what feels like forever. he coos at your request, wiping the tears you didn’t even notice were falling and moves back on top of you, the satisfying weight against you calming whatever worries you had. but he doesn’t give you what you want. his fingers, still spreading your folds dip into you, there’s zero resistance from your sopping entrance, but the stretch makes your eyes roll back. “please.” you don’t want his fingers, you don’t care if he splits you in half at this point.

“relax baby,” he’s soothing you as best as he can when he just wants to sink into you. instead of focusing on where he can make you unravel, he scissors you open, getting impatient himself. you hum at the shift, bringing his lips to yours with a hand still threading through his hair. when he adds a third finger you groan at the stretch. “so tight darling, you won’t be able to take me.” he’s purring at you, teasing you. you can’t string the words together to dissuade him. when he’s satisfied you’re stretched enough he pulls back, licking his fingers and groaning at the taste. devine, just like he expected.

despite your wishes he’s leaning back, tapping his angry cock head against your clit, and you realize his words may be true. your legs slide over his shoulders like they were made to be there and when you look down at your entrance, panic creeps in.

“i don’t think it will fit.” he watches your eyes widen, your brows furrowed in genuine concern. it’s comical.

“where did my good girl go? you were just begging for it.” he’s teasing you, laughing at the way your wide eyes meet his. without you responding, he slips his head towards your entrance, catching on it and slipping away, fuck you were so tight. you whimpered at the feeling, trying to slink away from him but he tightens his hold on your hips. you realize, albeit far too late, your heels are still on and very much on his shoulders.

“it won’t fit.” you’re pleading with him, for what exactly you’re not sure. and then he’s leaning down, pressing the tops of your thighs back towards you, folding you in half, his lips not quite reaching yours.

“i’ll make it fit.” without warning he’s nudging at your entrance again, bullying his way in and you whine and jostle at the feeling. it’s too big, the stretch too much and you feel tears prick your eyes. he’s tearing you open, ruining your for anyone else and you can’t find it in you to care.

when the tip is finally in you breathe out in relief, there’s still an ache between your legs and you know you’re dripping onto his sheets but you think the worst is over. you don’t know you’re far from it. because while charlie is a man of faith, of perseverance and virtue he can’t hold back from how addictive your pussy is. the tight hug of your cunt around his tip drives him to ease his full length into you without warning. you paw at his chest, eyes rolling back as he pushes his way fully in nestling against your cervix and curving inside you. making you gush out more liquid than you knew you had. in fact, it’s so much you’re not sure if you’re squirting or you just came. the pain and pleasure mix into one and you think scream his name. you swear you can feel him in your ribcage and you choke out a breath.

he’s barely holding himself still when his balls finally rest against you. your walls are molding to him, and he think he might have died and gone to heaven. “so fucking tight, you were made for me.” a deep groan leaves him before he can hold back and you whine at the sound, clenching down on him and making him only more painfully turned on. you can feeling him throbbing inside, carving you out, the veins of his cock pressed against.

when you begin to squirm under him, still not used to his size but not in pain, he starts moving. every time he moves out he feels he has to push back in, your poor abused cunt is gripping him so tight, he feels bad even pulling out. the burn becomes so intense and every time his tip bumps your cervix you twitch beneath him. he presses a sweet kiss to your ankle over the strap of your heels before pressing his hips down and reaching even deeper. you cry out his name at the change in position and then he’s drilling into you like he wants you to be ruined forever. you don’t know where your orgasms start or end as he continuously fucks against your most sensitive spot, your mind numb from pleasure and the only word leaving your lips is his name and cries of pleasure.

he’s no better, he swears he might be addicted to you. the way you call out his name, the way you clench around him when he groans and how you seem to still get wetter from his thrusts. he hopes you don’t blame him when he feels himself getting close already, from the look on your face he realizes you might not be able to think at all. his pace is cruel, driving you into the mattress and likely denting the wooden floor.

your mind is fractured into a million tiny pieces; the only thing you know is that you need him. and when he’s close he’s pressing into you like he wants to get you pregnant, he’s breeding you, making you his and you come again. there’s no room for his cum inside you, so it’s leaking out the sides and he can’t have that, not after how good you’ve been, how well you take him, so he’s scooping it back up and fingering it inside you all the while pumping you full. you don’t know when you started crying but you can taste the saltiness of your tears when you pull him down for a kiss, savoring in the drag of his tongue along your teeth and you suck on it slightly, still hungry. he wishes the moment could last forever, but begrudgingly he pulls out and swallows down your whimper. how could he ever begin to atone for this? he had a feeling he would be begging for forgiveness for the rest of his life, there was no way he could forget you.

[thesweetestofdreams]

hot chocolate

pairings: poly!marauders x reader (852 words)

warnings: should be none, just a little stress cry/ burnout

a/n: Do I like this? I have no idea. The boys help to comfort you on a late night that has you stressed.

Reaching out to his left, James expects to find your warmth. Instead all he feels are empty sheets. The fuzziness of sleep threatens to pull him back down, but your absence keeps him up. 

He pads through your small apartment doing his best not to wake your boyfriends still sleeping behind him. The small spike of panic he felt at not finding you eases as he finally does. 

You've got your back to him, typing away at your computer at the kitchen table. 

"And I'm the one not allowed to have coffee after six," he says softly once he's closer. You hardly glance at him, still typing. "Love," he says, a hand gently coming to cover yours. "Do you know how late it is?" 

Your heart melts as you finally look at him. He's rubbing sleep from his eyes, knocking his glasses off kilter. He looks warm and soft around the edges. It's enticing but your work's not going to do itself. "I'll come to bed in just a minute, Jamie. I should really finish this." 

He points at the time on your computer, 3:48 blares at you and you realize how much your eyes sting from staring at the screen. "Come on," he says, his grip now a soft tug at your wrist. 

"Just let me finish this paragraph." You're trying to bargain, having the feeling you'll probably lose. 

"It can wait, love." He's looking at you with soft eyes and you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. You hear shuffling behind you. Now you're really in for it.

Remus comes into view, his oversized shirt- probably one of James’- askew on his shoulders, followed by a scowling Sirius. “How dare you make us go on a man-hunt at three in the morning.” Sirius crosses his arms trying to look angry, but he still comes up to rest his chin on your shoulder. His nose tickles your cheek, “Let’s go to bed my love.”

Remus walks further into the kitchen of your tiny apartment. You remember the day you moved in, you ate ramen over a cardboard box as a kitchen table. Now as he stands across the table from you Remus reaches over to slowly close your laptop. 

You stop him halfway, and he gives you a knowing look. “I’m really not tired, honestly I won't be able to sleep until I finish this,” you say quickly returning to typing. 

Remus sighs, looking to James for help, but it’s Sirius who comes to his aid. “Well then I guess we’re all staying up,” Sirius says, his chin digging into your shoulder and sleep muddling his words, “but when I wake up with dark circles that’s on you.”

“No go to bed, I won’t be long.” You try to focus on your work, but Sirius worms his arms under yours, wrapping around you. “Siri, please.” Your head is starting to hurt from forcing your eyes to stay open, and the warmth coming off of him only makes the fight harder. 

“What are you doing, Remus?” you ask, hearing the kitchen cabinets open and close. 

“I’m making hot chocolate.” He grabs your favorite mug from the cabinet followed by three more. 

“You don’t have to do that Rem.” Your eyes are still stinging.

“I already opened the packet.” He says it with a finality that tells you, you’ve hardly any choice in the matter.

“I’ll get the marshmallows,” James adds, sounding far too excited for this time of night. 

Before you can stop it your eyes fill with tears, blurring your computer screen. You hide your face in your hands. “Are you okay, love?” Sirius asks, suddenly sounding much more awake. You can’t stop it as much as you want to, your tears flow leaving your boyfriends flustering to help you. 

“Dove.” Remus kneels beside you. “Let’s take a break, yeah? It can wait until tomorrow.” 

You hear the soft click of your computer shutting as you nod. James holds your hand across the table. “You’re all too nice to me,” you say, it comes out half laugh half sob. 

“All that work is scrambling your brain,” Sirius says, squeezing your shoulders.

You let Remus pull you to the couch where he brushes stray tears from your cheeks. You melt into his side. He plants soft kisses into your hair. 

James and Sirius come with cups of hot chocolate almost overflowing with marshmallows. The cups are soon abandoned as the rich chocolate threatens to drag you all to sleep right on the spot. 

When you eventually make it to bed through fits of yawns and tired shuffling, you realize you’re finally exactly where you want to be. Sirius falls asleep practically on top of James.

Remus pulls the blanket to your chin. “Too nice,” he laughs quietly to himself. You swat at his arm. As you fall asleep, he listens to the rise and fall of your breath. You deserve all the niceness of the world, and he would make hot chocolate in the middle of every night if it meant you felt even a bit of it.

[chlorinecake]

Thoughts on stalker x stalker??

— 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐣𝐲

▹ PAIRING: stalker ex bf ! jake x stalker ex gf ! reader

▹ SUMMARY: You and Jake, exes torn apart, developed a mutual obsession with each other overtime, the lingering romance coming to light with a simple flash of his camera…

▹ WARNINGS: BIG DICK JAKE who records a lil sextape of him fingering you because he's a helpless titty fixated perv, unprotected sex (cowgirl), some crying, a brief handjob and fingering session, kinda angsty

▹ WORD COUNT: 3.5k

“Do you really see better with those glasses on?”

Jake's chocolate brown eyes peeked at you through his specs, a gentle hum rumbling from his throat before answering.

“No. I mostly wear them for the art student aesthetic I’m going for… now don't smile, pretty.”

Snap.

You let the small smile on your face relax at his instructions. “And the other reason?” You pressed, watching as he angled the lens a little higher over you this time.

“Hm, dunno... maybe because cute girls always ask about them?”

You hated it whenever he talked about other girls—

Snap.

Another click of his camera sounded throughout the quiet studio, it’s white flashes lighting up the dim room.

“So you like the attention then?” You teased, watching as his facial expression remained nonchalant.

Focused.

“Your attention? Yes,” he admitted, narrowing his eyes behind the camera. “Might be one of my favorite things, actually…”

Snap.

Good answer Jakey, you thought to yourself, trying your best to keep a neutral facial expression before him.

“One of your favorites just like old cameras, apparently...” you went on… “How come you never use the new one I bought you for your birthday last year?”

“Because,” Jake answered while lining his eyes up with the camera lens, “this one is much easier for me to carry around... I like that it’s portable...”

Why would he need a camera on the go, you asked yourself silently… even though, the reality was that Jake had actually dropped the other camera while following you one night—

Snap.

“Jeez, how many more shots do you need, Peter Parker?”

“You'll know when I'm finished,” the dark eyed boy replied with a foreign rasp to his tone, index finger gently squeezing into the camera button as he continued. “Now stick your tongue out for me.”

“I'm sorry?”

Snap.

His unusual sentence really caught you off guard this time, a feeling of chills washing over you as he took his lower lip into his teeth.

“Beautiful,” he said almost breathlessly, “just try following my directions next time though, yeah?”

“Jake, I need a break...” You sighed, changing your position on the couch as his vision remained glued behind the camera.

“In a minute, ____…”

Snap.

He used your first name on purpose because you used his, and he knew you were the type of girl who didn’t like that very much.

“I said that’s enough, alright?”

You slightly raised your voice at him, his demeanor remaining just as calm as before once a prolonged sigh escaped his throat.

“I suppose five minutes of wasted time wouldn’t hurt,” he said sarcastically, placing his red camera on the stool beside him before extending a hand, helping you off the couch.

“Thanks,” you replied half-heartedly, grabbing the large white sheet from the couch arm and wrapping it around your naked body.

“I could never get tired of this honestly,” Jake confessed, watching you intently as you poured yourself a cup of water from the nearby cooler.

“Tired of what?” You asked in between your first sip, his eyes being all over you except your face as you spoke.

“Looking at you,” was all he said for you to roll your eyes at his words, making him chuckle at your reaction.

“I’m serious, y’know that?”

“Mhm… I can tell,” you smirked with a nod, taking the last sip of your water before making your way back over to plop on the couch. “How about you go over your pictures… you’ll never know if we caught the perfect one already if you don’t check…”

He didn’t verbally respond to your suggestion, only nodding in agreement as he reached for the camera, clicking through its film.

To no one’s surprise, Jake, who doubled as your pervy ex-boyfriend and personal neighborhood stalker, felt himself getting hot all over again just from looking at the pictures of you displayed on the grainy screen.

Today's excuse to photograph you? He needed a nude model for his chiaroscuro themed visual project at the fancy art university he attended.

You knew Jake would’ve a hard time finding any other female (or male) to willingly get naked for him, so you obliged… under the small condition that he wouldn’t try to fuck you afterwards.

Simply put, your infatuation with him always made it easier to agree to whatever stupid favors he needed you to do—

“God,” he groaned under his breath, taking a seat as an attempt to hide the boner slowly growing behind his pants.

“Damn, are they really that bad?” You asked with worried brows, misinterpreting his reaction.

“N-no, not at all,” he corrected, eyes still glued to the camera screen.

“Oh... well… okay then,” you sighed with relief, or maybe it was a yawn?

The studio AC was set to such a low temperature that you couldn't help but feel a little sleepy... especially with how mundane this whole model process was getting to be.

“Can I see the pictures?” You asked, making Jake's eyes widen slightly at your request. He knew it'd be suspicious to say no so he instead gave in, reluctantly handing you the camera.

Clicking the left arrow on the circular directional button, the gallery scrolled, picture after picture, with each slide shocking you with how good they came out.

“Lovely, aren't you?” Jake nearly whispered from behind you as he leaned over the couch, his hands pulling your hair out of the tussled bun he previously styled it in for the first part of the photoshoot.

For the next series of shots, he planned to go for a more natural look, taking your hair down to let it hang as the scent of your shampoo ignited him all over again.

Jake couldn’t stop himself from grinding his hard-on against the back of the couch, eager for any sort of friction that would ease the tension building up inside him.

You felt the teeth of the comb meet your scalp as he continued to comb, the simple act somehow making it even harder for him to control himself.

“You're really talented at this,” you said, just before your eyes glazed over the series of pictures following the one's he'd just taken of you.

Some were from recent trips you took to the supermarket, events you don't fully remember, and even a few scandalous shots of you through your apartment window, changing out of your work clothes—

“Thanks, but I prefer giving credit to the actual person I'm shooting,” he added, looking over your shoulder as you turned the camera off, just before he got a chance to see what you were looking at.

Though, from the almost immediate shift in the studio's aura, Jake had developed a pretty good inkling in his chest as to what you might've seen.

Your throat tensed up, chest expanding slightly with each exhale as a smile grew on Jake's face.

“Just let me know if I'm being too rough, alright?” He started, sectioning out your bangs as his hand slid around your neck, gently cradling your chin upward.

“Jake,” you choked out weakly, a shaky moan slipping past your lips as the comb got caught in a particular knot in your hair, “t-take your time, please...”

You stuttered, hoping in your heart that he wouldn't make a big deal about it.

In truth, you often watched Jake from afar yourself, not being able to get over your obsession with him, even months after you two first broke up…

Your eyes had a way of chasing stolen moments—the curve of his lips as he sipped coffee on his way to class, or the way his personal style slowly changed from denim coats and Timberland's to leather jackets and black boots.

You saw it all, seeking after it as often as you could… using it as a means to coax your own lonely desire for him.

Still, you couldn't quite shake how strange it was to see his gallery filled with images of you from every angle and emotion, even though it eventually delighted you to know that he wasn't as interested in other people as he let on—

“I'm in no rush, ____,” he said plainly, trying to redirect the energy in the room, “just relax for me... I'm not trying to hurt you...”

He chose his words wisely, releasing his hold from around your neck before making his way over to the wall where he dimmed the lights even more.

“I know, Jake,” you nearly whispered, wind flowing from the slightly opened windows as your voice flew with its gust…

“But how long have you been watching me?”

His wrists froze at your question, a mix of relief, guilt, and fear rising within every part of his body.

You turned your gaze towards him, eyes locking to reveal a mirror reflecting your similarly twisted desires, the tension screaming with ambivalence…

“Since we broke up...” He confessed, eerily loud footsteps sending shivers down your spine as he paced against the wooden floor, walking towards you, “does that bother you, love?”

You stammered at first, gentle grasp clinging to the white sheet around you. “It doesn't, Jake... not at all,” you finally mustered, watching as he licked his lips because God, he was such an anxious perv for you...

The way you looked before him in this moment, both fear and recognition present in your features as your body remained still as stone, every natural highlight of your skin looking even more gorgeous beneath the dim lights.

This entire moment was all too much for him… You were too much for him…

Slowly creeping towards you, his intense energy did nothing but make your arms sprout with tiny bumps all over.

“Good,” was all he said at first, trying to digest your body language while freeing himself from his jacket, “but I'm guessing there's something you might wanna come clean about, too, hm?”

“I… yes,” you admitted, somehow regaining your initial confidence, “since you wanna hear me say it so badly... I haven't exactly been able to get over you, either...”

He smirked at your honesty, “How bad has it gotten? The withdrawal, I mean... d'you ever think about me when you touch yourself?”

“Cute, but no...,” you scoffed, “I prefer hands-free fantasizing instead... less mess for me to clean up alone,” you smiled teasingly, tracing the arch of his jawline with your index finger.

It almost felt foreign when you did that just then...

You hadn't touched him like that in months... and even though the act was ordinary, it made you feel something intense—

“I need to take a few more shots of you like this,” he said randomly, reaching for his camera but not sitting on the opposite couch this time.

He stayed right in front of you, joining you on the couch and slightly caging you beneath his frame.

“Trying a new angle I see... these gonna be for your project or—”

“I'm gonna keep these for myself,” he interrupted, snaking his free hand beneath the sheet and lightly caressing the flesh of your thigh before kneading it, dangerously close to your core. “Just make sure you follow my instructions like I asked...”

You nodded at his words, letting your lower body relax as he gently guided your legs open, the sheet falling from over you boobs and exposing them to the air as he grazed your pussy lips with his fingers.

Jake nearly drooled at the sight of your hard nipples, clicking with his tongue to make you look back at the camera. “Start by squeezing your tits together for me,” he started in a low voice, “wanna see how well they’d suffocate my dick…”

The poor guy was still very much hard right now, and it didn't help him one bit with how wet you felt against his fingers, his skilled touch circling your clit as a feathery moan left your lips.

“C’mon pretty, do as I say…” Jake cooed, pointing the camera to you as you did just that, arching your back over the sofa arm while squeezing your tits together, his fingers quickening against your sensitive bud as he kept recording.

You're not sure what came over you just then, but you were starting to feel more than willing to do whatever Jake asked of you, especially when his fingers worked on teasing your initial tightness.

His digits curved against your g-spot, the pressure he applied only escalating as his stiff cock started leaking in his pants.

This entire moment felt strangely nostalgic, reminding you of the many times Jake would stand over while making you cream with just his fingers—

“Tell me when you're close, baby… beg for me to let you come,” he huffed, voice sounding somewhat labored as he intently watched your chest heave up and down, biting his lower lip to stop himself from kissing you.

Because as badly as he wanted to taste you, he had to capture your bliss on camera first, for the nights that memories become too vague... for the nights when fantasies don't compare to the real deal...

Your whole body was a mix of hot and cold, given the temperature of the room and the sexual energy meddling between your excited bodies.

“J-Jake…” you stuttered with a whine, clinging to the couch as your face flushed a ruddy hue, walls desperately clenching around his fingers, “please...l-let me come for you…”

The poor boy didn't know what to do with himself given how wet you were, his puppy-dog eyes looking almost in awe now that the realization had hit him:

He finally got you where he wanted you… and from your perspective, the likewise…

“You can let go now baby,” is all Jake manages to say before you're coming undone, the knot in you abdomen unraveling throughout every limb of your body as pure pleasure coursed through your starved out veins.

Jake kept the camera on your body the entire time, too, his digits only slowing down slightly to help you ride out your high.

He hadn't even fully slipped from your hole yet before a feeling of emptiness washed over you, lust-ridden eyes following Jake’s every move as his veiny hand retreated from your core.

He caught on to it, too... the way your eyes panned in on him like your own built in set of camera lenses... capturing every movement to store in your favorite mental file.

“Fuck,” Jake groaned around his own fingers suddenly, tasting the milky slick he gathered from your hole, “been missing the taste of you so bad, angel...”

“Then kiss me,” you whispered heavily, a clear sheen of Jake's saliva mixed with your sweet release painting the cupid's bow of his pouty lips.

He didn't hesitate to take heed to your words either, setting the camera down with haste before hovering back over you on the couch, not even guiding your face as he kissed your lips, humming into the contact.

The feeling of Jake's sloppy textured tongue against yours sent shivers down your spine, his hot breath doing nothing but heat up the warmth already present between your legs.

His heart pounded against his ribs as the kiss continued, his glasses eventually fogging up from how intense the contact was, compelling you to push him away for a seconds to remove his glasses, your own heart fluttering at his flushed demeanor.

“I need to touch you... r-right now,” you choked out breathlessly, not even bothering to cover your naked body now that the sheet was slipping to the floor.

It was a bit awkward at first, you'll admit, being completely naked while Jake was fully clothed. You grew tired of undressing him with your eyes and knew you had to do something about the issue throbbing behind his pants.

Before Jake could even respond, you were already pushing him back against the other side of the couch, his head plopping on the sofa arm with a gentle thud, fluffy brown locks framing his face.

The shadow of a smirk meddled over his handsome features as you eagerly yet patiently worked on unzipping his pants, the thick mound from his clothed hardness making your head spin.

There was really no point in taking things slow with him in this moment because its not like you two haven't already fucked each other before... only difference now was that it had been a while, so the nerves had built up—

“It's so red,” you remarked with a whisper, just having shimmed Jake's pants down enough for you to get his cock out, “does it hurt?”

“I'll let you know once you start touching it,” he let out with a relaxed breath, eyes once again focusing on the way you sat before him with your tits out on full display.

You took his comment as some sort of green light, gently taking his length in your grasp and pumping it in long, drawn out strokes.

His thighs were already trembling, hips grinding up into your first to gain a bit more friction.

“Fuck, stop teasing, ____,” he groaned with half-lidded eyes, wrapping his hand around yours to manually control the pace.

You let out a laugh at his neediness, swatting his hand away so you could take over again, “This is all apart of the foreplay, Jake... you know I'll be riding your cock properly before the night's out, anyways...”

Deep down, you were having just a little too much fun toying around with Jake right now, but given the sexually frustrated furrow of his eyebrows, you decided to be nice and just let him have you already.

Still pumping his shaft in your hand, you sat up on your knees to straddle him, lining up his tip with your entrance before letting your weight sink onto him, struggling to adjust to his size given how long its been since you took him.

A quiet curse fell from Jake's lips as he watched you wiggle past his mushroom tip, his veiny hands reaching forward to help you completely reach his pelvis.

You let out a shaky whimper at the sudden feeling of fullness, covering your mouth with the back of your hand to stop yourself from making any more pained sounds.

“There you go, pretty... nice and easy...” Jake cooed while still gripping the flesh of your hips, mostly because if he didn't, he would've started thrusting into you, “do you wanna stop?”

“N-no,” you practically blurted out, thighs still feeling tense despite how badly you wanted this with him, “I want you to make me cum again, Jakey... I can take it...”

Your words were like magic to his ears, his strong hand guiding your body against his as he left a tender kiss to your cheek before holding you in place, his dick moving in and out of you at a steady pace that escalated in a matter of seconds.

To be honest, you were shocked by Jake's adrenaline, your body already shaking beneath his arms as he held onto you tighter, grunting with each time your desperate walls clenched around him.

His balls bounced to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin making you shut your eyes tightly in pleasure, whining frantically at the mix of sensations.

Your eyes started to sprout with tears, damping Jake's shoulder as he fucked against your g-spot, making it nearly impossible for you to hold in your delighted screams.

Pouring out a string of whiny moans, your body subconsciously moved with his hips, Jake catching on to your reactions rather quickly as he whispered a sultry “You like that, baby?” against your neck, your head nodding lazily as you looked into each other's eyes, right before your lips crashed into his. 

“I missed this so fucking badly, Jake... 'missed being this close to you,” you let out weakly, one of his thumbs going to wipe the tear of moisture sliding down your face as he kept rutting into you.

“I know, angel,” he panted, kissing you on the center of your lips before pulling back, his tip reaching the furthest its ever been inside your pussy as you rocked your hips against his, wobbly pleas of pleasure slipping past both your lips before you felt yourselves reach your peaks.

“Aww, f-f... shit,” you whined, Jake's hips still pivoting against you despite how strong the orgasm was, your thighs trembling as you felt your walls tighten around him.

“That's it, baby,” Jake cooed through heavy breaths, reeling out more of your pretty moans as he rode out your high for the last time, holding you close to him, “let it all out, angel...”

You let your legs relax, just as Jake sat himself up straight, delicate lips kissing along your jawline as he whispered against your skin, “Now you belong to me again…”

And there it was, two twisted souls basking in the very web of obsession the sewed together, a lost love blossoming yet again from a matter of stolen glances and a series of clandestine photographs bringing you back together again.

You internally yawned at the feeling of Jake's lips against you, his possessive words only making your heart sing as you reached down for the sheet, draping it over both your spent bodies...

“I've always been yours, Jake,” you smiled sincerely, ruffling the hair atop his head before falling back into his embrace, letting yourselves snuggle into the plush cushion of the couch, “even when you left me first...”

▹ Author's Note: This story is a work of fiction and does not intend to romanticize the harmfully obsessive behaviors described between the two characters. Real-life stalking is not okay my guys, so please, don’t be a sasaeng and instead seek healthy relationships !

▹ Perm Taglist ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 ) : @squoxle @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr

[stevebabey]

have sum steddie! maybe modern!au, no upside down!au & a meet cute <3 | ao3

Steve sits in the booth, his foot tapping away mindlessly under the table, with half a mind to abandon the table entirely.

In fact, the only reason he hadn’t yet was because of the $20 he was hanging out for at the end. And the bragging rights, of course.

Robin had set him up on this blind date, plied him with all the promises in the world that he would enjoy it — said she’d spent a decent amount of time hunting for the right first gay date for Steve.

She also conceded that if he, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy it, she would cough up 20 whole bucks for his wasted time. But he had to actually see the date through for the prize to be claimed.

And the bragging rights were so that Robin — with her uppity, healthy, and happy relationship that Steve was only a little bit envious of — could ease onto the breaks when it came to Steve’s love life.

So it was looking a little bleak at the moment, so what? Every stallion or… lion or whatever had their moments, right? Moments where their mane is a little uncouth and food is low and…. Where was he going with this?

The point was, that Robin got into one relationship and suddenly decided she was fit to become a high and mighty matchmaker. Never mind that Steve had reminded her numerous times that he had dated a lot more than she had.

So, for 20 bucks and the right to stick his tongue out at his best friend when she tried to meddle, Steve could stick one night out.

Besides, she was right about one thing. They weren’t in Hawkins anymore — and San Francisco had a hell of a larger dating pool than his hometown.

Still, that didn’t make people anymore for prompt for dates though, apparently. Steve’s foot taps incessantly under the table, his knee bouncing up and down in his nerves. He runs a hand through his hair and checks his watch again.

7 o’clock, Harvey’s Diner, a cute little Italian place that Steve had begun to frequent since they moved to the city, and a date with a dude called Daniel whom Steve had no idea what he looked like.

This was his Friday night plans.

His watch reads 7:12pm and Steve sighs, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the strap of his watch just for something to do. Great. He had gotten all dressed up for this? To be stood up? How was this any better than his usual Friday night plans that Robin claimed were so pathe—

“Hi.”

Someone sits down in the booth across from Steve, landing with a thump loud enough to give him a fright.

Steve’s head whips up from its focus on fiddling with his watch and— woah. Steve blinks once, twice, and feels his jaw unhinge a little, his lips parting an inch as he gazes at the stranger across from him.

Holy shit, this dude was hot.

He’s got curls for days, dark chocolate ringlets all messy and unkept spilling over his shoulders— long and probably perfect for burying your hands into. Steve flushes a little at the unexpected thought.

He has beautiful brown eyes, widened with a smudge of eyeliner and framed with long lashes. Steve thinks he can spy a smattering of freckles across his forehead. His nose is long and his lips are plush and pink and holy shit, this dude was pretty.

“Oh— hi.” Steve manages to remember his manners. Only after he fully checked this dude out, of course.

God, couldn’t Robin have given him a better warning than just ‘he’s probably your type’? Couldn’t she have warned him that this dude was ‘do-a-double-take-on-the-street type hot?’ What the fuck Robin?

The man across from him grins, wicked and alluring all at once, and shucks off his heavy leather jacket. His eyes do a once-over on Steve, taking his time to check him out— which is great because Steve is stuck on all the glorious tattoos that have just been revealed. So much skin shown in his roughly chopped muscle-tee, swirling ink all down his arms. This dude is hot.

Silently, Steve curses Robin and the 20 dollars that is totally slipping away from him. Why did she have to be right all the time?

“Been waiting long?” The man, Daniel, asks as he makes himself comfortable across the table. He pushes his hair back with both hands, using one hand to gather it into a ponytail, holding it up to air out his neck and Steve now realises he is slightly puffed.

He must’ve run part of the way here, to avoid being later than he was. Steve can’t help but be slightly endeared by that fact.

The man grins again, “Promise I was trying to be on time but, you know how the subway is.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, any annoyance at being kept waiting melting away at his date’s sincerity.

“Not too long,” Steve admits, smiling to ease Daniel’s apparent concern. Across the table, Daniel slumps a little and releases his hair, his curls pooling back around his shoulders. Steve watches, entranced.

“Well, that’s good,” Daniel smiles, eyes bright like he really means it, and his hand darts out to steal the drinks menu from the edge of the table. He looks back over to Steve, a furrow in his brows. “You didn’t order anything?”

“I thought I should wait,” Steve says with a shrug. No point paying for food if your date never shows up.

Daniel looks up from the menu through his lashes and smiles, placing his elbow on the table and dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Aw, you’re sweet.”

Steve is a little embarrassed by how easily the compliment makes him blush, feeling his cheeks glow lightly. Across the table, Daniel seems to revel in it, drinking in the way Steve’s face filled with colour with a cheeky smile. His eyes flick back down to the menu.

“You know,” Daniel begins, keeping his eyes on the menu, scanning it with a hum. “Chrissy said you were good looking but I think she seriously undersold you.”

He takes his eyes off the menu to trail up Steve’s body, his gaze heavy. Steve feels a delighted zing go up his spine, feels the way he preens at Daniel’s attraction. Steve opens his mouth to respond, more than ready to return the flirt when—

“Can I get you two started with anything?”

The waitress interrupts. She’s poised with her notepad, standing at the edge of the booth. Daniel perks up and nods.

“Can I get a chocolate milkshake please?” He asks with a polite smile. Steve laughs lightly at his selection and Daniel’s gaze cuts from the waitress to Steve.

“What? Not a milkshake man?”

Steve tries to contain his grin, all too endeared by the man before him. He shakes his head and raises his hand in defense. “Nothing against milkshakes just… for dinner?”

Daniel gasps theatrically and his head snaps back to the waitress. “This man has never had the delight of a Harvey’s milkshake with his dinner. Please bring us two chocolate milkshakes!”

Steve watches as the waitress dutifully writes down the order and turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. He turns back to his date and gapes, taken aback by the forwardness.

“Did you just order for me?”

“Did you just diss milkshakes?”

Steve scoffs, but even then he can’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He can’t believe it but he’s genuinely glad he waited this date out. It's not at all like he was expecting. Even Robin's short description of this dude pales in comparison to the real thing. Steve nudges his foot forward into Daniel’s shin lightly.

“I did not diss milkshakes,” Steve argues, his smile widening at how Daniel’s eyes dart to the table before back up at Steve with a grin.

“Uh huh,” Daniel nods, his voice sarcastic and 100% unbelieving of Steve’s insistence. “Just wait, okay? You’ll be changing your tune soon enough. Harvey’s milkshakes are class. I’ve had a thousand of my best ideas in here, sipping on a chocolate milkshake.”

Steve grins and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Under the table, he feels Daniel’s boot nudge against his leg gently— and he laughs to himself. This has gotta be the most teenage way of flirting and he’s fucking loving it.

“You know,” Steve begins hesitantly, letting his forearms lean up against the table. “You’re not quite what I expected, Daniel.”

Across the table, Daniel scrunches up his face, his expression one of pure befuddlement. He puts his hands flat on the table and leans forward.

“Wait, you think my name is Daniel?”

Steve splutters for a moment because even though the answer is duh, yes, it’s become increasingly apparent that the man across from him is not who he was expecting. But if he’s not Daniel, who is he?

Suddenly, the door chimes and someone else is entering the diner. It’s a man dressed like Steve — on the preppy side with hair that must’ve taken at least an hour. He scans the booth and spots Steve’s booth, wandering over, his eyes fixed on the man across from Steve.

“Hey, are you Eddie?” He asks confidently, ignoring Steve’s presence on the other side of the booth.

The man — Eddie — freezes as he glances up at the newcomer and then back down to Steve ahead of him. Steve deflates a little inside as he realises abruptly what’s happened— a mix-up of wrong dates that was completely warranted because this dude dresses exactly like Steve. Steve doesn't stare too long to see if he's any hotter.

Instead, he tries to give Eddie the all-clear with his eyes. He smiles polite as he can and gives a little nod to let him know it was alright to abandon him for the date he was supposed to go on. Not to get stuck with Steve.

Eddie clears his throat and smiles, not cheeky like he had with Steve, but stiff and polite. “Ah sorry man, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. My name's Daniel.”

Huh? Steve takes his eyes off the table to steal a glimpse at Eddie (is his name even Eddie?) and something inside him burns hotly when the man glances across at Steve and winks.

The man standing by the booth wavers for a moment, glancing between them in the booth as Steve schools his expression to neutral. After a moment of silence, there's a half-assed apology as the man retreats, heading back out the door he had just come through. The door chimes again on his way out.

Steve straightens up and peers over his shoulder, watching the door slowly swing shut. He turns back to the man across the booth and squints at him. The waitress returns briefly, dropping two large chocolate shakes onto the table, topped with a mountain of cream. She murmurs something about coming back to take their order in a moment.

"Wait, so who are you?" Steve asks, gently sliding his shake closer to him. "Daniel or Eddie?"

His date —well, his new date— has already begun taking a big long sip from his own milkshake, so enamored with it that when he pulls away there's a dot of cream on the end of his nose. He swallows with a satisfied ah and grins across the table at Steve, not noticing the dairy on his face.

"I'm whoever gets me talking with you a little bit longer."

Steve grins, an endeared roll of his eye at the blatant flirting but he can't deny how it makes his chest warm. He grabs one of the napkins and reaches forward, adoring how Eddie goes cross-eyed as he watches Steve smudge away the cream on his nose. He laughs sheepishly, giving his nose a little wipe with his own hand.

"I'm Eddie." He says, finally introducing himself. He doesn't offer his hand, just gives Steve a little nudge under the table and a grin over his milkshake. "And I think you just saved me from a terrible date."

Steve laughs, giving a little shake of his head. He finally goes in for a sip of his own milkshake— and it's just as heavenly as Eddie had promised, glorious chocolate dancing over his taste buds.

Steve groans quietly, eyes bright when he glances at the other man over his glass, entirely amused by how wide-eyed Eddie has become. He releases the straw and sits back, more invested in this date than he has been in... years. Stallion's got its mojo back. Or lion. Whatever.

"I'm Steve," He responds, giving a little nudge back under the table and a grin of his own. "And I think you saved me from being stood up."

[azure-cherie]

|𝑃𝐿𝑈𝑇𝑂 𝐴𝑆𝑃𝐸𝐶𝑇𝑆 |

What does Pluto represent?

It represents regeneration, metamorphosis, to change and become into something new , it represents innermost feelings, what have you discarded, thrown locked away , it can show where your blockages might be , and acknowledging them and healing them will lead you to embody yourself more , the core step of regeneration is acception so accept yourself for all the darks and lights and greys they will show you your own soul beautiful, empowering, unfearful.

This post is based on what's observed if it doesn't resonate please check other placements 🌷 This post can be read for tropical as well as vedic astrology however in vedic the outer planets don't matter as much .

Tw : I have tried to be honest and some stuff can be triggering please know that these are general observations

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Sun 🌞

Conjunct: These people go through a lot early on , like rejections, rumours that their kindness is fake , as they get older they get famous for a new look of theirs for example, someone maybe known for being a chocolate boy when younger but they age like fine wine as they get older , they like to take major risks in life . Their energy stays hidden from people who don't appreciate it in a way they will only embody their true self when they're truely appreciated . Their inner child is oftentimes locked and can be accessed and healed through breathing exercises, sunbathing, helping out poor children or lost souls.

Trine : They are known mostly for having a profound balance in what they do , like a beauty with brains type of vibe , they get famous for things they do authentically , are you ready to show yourself to the world if yes it will take you for all that you got , now you choose . A good placement for bombshell beauties , they are known for their unique looks eg : Angelina jolie, grace kelly , really revolutionary.

Sextile: They have a very experimental fashion and with every look of theirs , their outlook towards life changes , change in styles give them growth . Might be kind of control freaks and perfectionists but they actually work best in chaos and unpredictability gains a lot for them. Men with this are known to be very brave and powerful. People with this take challenges and criticism very well and use it to their advantage .let go of the mentality that society will only love you when you have all of the best things , infact the people who love you will love you regardless.

Square: These people literally have cults , their views are so strong that only people who really want to believe and deal take them , they will throw your triggers at your face. Believers of tough love , they might be a little too misunderstood, it takes time for people to get through their layers . You may think , here finally i know this person, but you'll be shocked about how much more they have to offer .

Opposite: These people have a lot of internal struggles , they often choose the wrong people to trust , fame isn't the best thing for them , a quite luxurious happy life is something they are content with . They have a very sophisticated face , they have a look of I'm satisfied but watch me do more kinda face . They are often famous for their aesthetic choices . Tw : fame may lead to early death , unless they learn to navigate it .

Moon 🌙

Conjunct: People have too many views about them and their mental health, they may suffer from a lot but you don't have to remind them , they already know and are working. They have a great spectrum of emotions and can be well known for writing their innermost thoughts. Intuitive and good at channeling and connected to their daimon. Divine inspiration always leads them . They have a very enticing and captivating face . Sometimes their speech is confusing, but they are trying to do good for you , might be a little rough at times.

Trine : They are intellectual and can provide anyone with sufficient motivation to do something. Good at telepathy and communication. They hold the power to influence people for good and bad . Have an easy navigation about their emotions. Some people might hate or be jealous because of how well they can navigate their triggers.

Sextile: They are soft and pure hearted , oftentimes known for their activism and support all the people around them with open hearts , it's a good placement for psychologists . They are known to persist despite all the hurdles around them . They like punk rock , and like to speak on dark topics for the welfare of society . Liked by many because of their authenticity .

Square : They like to mainly stay away from social media , as too much presence leads to people building wrong assumptions about them . They have revolutionary and conflicting views about things . These people regret not taking the right action at the right time . Can turn out to be manipulative and self sabotaging .

Opposite: They can be narcissistic, too absorbed. Though they introduce new trails of ideas , their speech is oftentimes too extreme and unacceptable. They are well known for their work . Known for their sad personality they feel things really deeply and are often confused about their own emotions. They have deep voices. People can really relate to their cries for help , they just need to have peace with themselves, and know that not everything shouldn't be known by everyone.

Mars ♦️

Conjunct : makes one a visionary for change , sometimes destruction. They have violent control of their emotions. Feels isolated initially which they turn into super power and channel it through their art and daily life . They can give great advice on just about anything, people trust them but also fear them .

Trine : hates to be ignored , when someone disregards them they get in moods of ignorance . Likes attention. They attract men who are a bit passive aggressive. Good at calisthenics , a lot of people consider their body to be a piece of art . Prone to knee injuries.

Sextile : common placement for royalty and fame after marriage ( rich powerful men ) . The people with this placement need to learn to love themselves, can be too fixated on others to love them which in turn creates a void, when they are developed , they enjoy themselves a lot , a very nice business mind and can give a good sense of life and the game of it . Lowkey reminds me of Shera .

Square : They like boyish clothing, can be stuck in scandals for example : Mila kunis for her age, courtney for the m*****r of Kurt, Kristin Stewart for cheating . They have a great sense of confidence , people try to copy them a lot . Usually they are trend setters in rare sectors . They tend to have a pull for life and the purpose of it but are confused often .

Opposite: Gives one strong sense of justice , however at times it could bounce back on them , for example they raised their voice against some injustice, it indeed hampers their image . Being a mediator is a peaceful case for them but if they choose to go for their heart that is true, they experience turbulence , initially until they realise life is all about give and take . Might give you a square face and lean body .

Venus 🦪

Conjunct : god knows you know about the deadly charm they exude , when Venus is conjunct pluto every step that you take towards healing and facing that is coming towards you , you are blessed in beauty ( how don't ask me try ) you become so self assured and so much more confident, they also have an air of knowing a lot even though they are still learning holy shit the grasp they have upon us .

Trine : These people can really turn their hurt into their power , they strive to get something in life, they know that whatever happens they can get out of it, so beautifully reminds me of the phoenix , rise like a beautiful song .

Sextile : you're intense you're full of depth and beauty, they have deep philosophical and in the core know that money cant buy all happiness but it's essential for their survival, they know how to strike a balance in life and really are the masters of their own fate

Square : Venus and Pluto forming squares gives one a drastic drive to be their authentic self to accept themselves in all their forms be it good bad or weird they aren't afraid to go through the little deaths in the self discovery of finding themselves again and again . They have many aha moments as they are always learning something new about themselves.

Opposite: this placement could bring internal struggles about looks and money , they think they can't manifest money but it's already written, these placements agree for you to accept them and work with them for your benefit. However this could also lead to them having a god complex and a feeling that they can do no wrong .

Jupiter ✨

Conjunct : These people are one of a kind very wise and you know those kinda people who give great advice because they have f*****d up in real time so with all they have gone through they try to live the best lives for themselves and everyone around them , these people are also very lucky in gambling, lottery and stock market .

Trine : blessed in marriage and business with people who see themselves in their true aura and still choose to love them. These people are dominating and they know what they want , don't like people correcting them too much.

Sextile : with a trine in this position one might go through this thing of being bad or fluctuating with money , once you have a lot other time you're blaming yourself for spending too much but be assured that no matter what , what you lose you will earn it back again too . They like to help the oppressed and the outcast .

Square : when in square you really go through the challenging times , the key to why you're great is because you can always self discover yourself again that's why the people around you see you in such a light of a leader , you're like a hierophant to the lost people because you found yourself again .

Opposite: you might feel unlucky that your luck doesn't work in your favour but her we talk about the solution so the thing is you're meant to work alright this pretty much like working on a child , you have to love your inner child so much so truly . you work hard for the benefits they work a little late but they def work c'mon it's with jupiter ain't no way jup ain't blessing you.

Mercury 🖊️

Conjunct: they know that the emotions they have good or bad are a result of innermost issues , very aware of their problems and solutions . Makes one a very good person to go for advice . Good in the logical sector , they like to chill or spend time reading stuff. They study or seek mental stimulation in times of distress

Trine : they can bring out their innermost desires easily through art and literature, healing when it comes to skin is fast for them , their brains work in a very result oriented manner , they think about the consequences and possibilities before doing something drastic . Makes one a lover of fiction of all kinds .

Sextile : They really find inspiration in the things most people don't see . They pay attention to the things most people ignore and find a way to use it to get a hold of information. These are the people with a variety of information in all sectors ,though conjunction and trine gives the intelligence, they choose to restore more as a built mechanism to enchant people

Square: this gives a hard time accepting this for what they truly are might lead to some anxiety and adhd issues , this could make one scared of changes . Early age bullying could be seen but with time , the youth of mercury and the resilience of Pluto makes one a visionary, someone who knows so much.

Opposite: might have a hard time to channel logic , though their emotions are alright . Might fall for fake promises and they have to work on their people pleasing tendencies. This gives one a hunger to do better in life , eventually they see that all that their mind is feeding them isn't true and they can always do better than what they have been taught .

Saturn 🪐

Conjunct :makes one a very disciplined person , they strive to work hard . You know the lana lyric " I'm doing it for all of us who never got the chance , and all my birds of Paradise " like wise they work hard so everyone around them can be happy and healthy, they make great people to bond with if you wanna succed in life and are looking for like minded people.

Trine : they are very hardworking towards what they want very goal oriented people. One thing i have seen is they can never work unless their work space is really clean , an organised view of things make their mind work better . People see them as someone who can be stiff at times , you can sometimes let loose is alright and appreciated to enjoy life .

Sextile : This works kind of like Saturn retrograde, the initial obstacles remain while Saturn gives the bad later in life when one has proven worthy to have something . Since life has thrown away them a lot of times they learn to be really humble , and try to assess all the possibilities before being sad about something. They understand that life is what you make it.

Square : might have a hard time following routines , they blame their luck a lot for having problems . When they get into healing themselves they have to deal with a lot of intense inner conflict and they might not take it very well , however to have a strong mind one has to deal with this tw might fall into depression. They come out stronger than ever knowing the power of free will .

Opposition: they believe rules are meant to be broken and i believe though this is opposition and might be malefic but being with Saturn and Pluto this gives one a very idgaf mentality which it turns out good for most times as one doesn't spend too much time contemplating. Might ignore their problems at times . But once in life the urge to get their life on track will occur and they will set things right for themselves. They want what they want by hook or by crook .

Uranus 🪻

Conjunct : They orchestrate changes, they are potent in telling people why they should do some things and why some things will bring them the better , they can really motivate people to live life for themselves. Usually they have strong sense of justice and remain very grounded .

Trine : They are free spirited, charming people , one thing about them is they can really see what others don't they can really put up the themes regarding what's beautiful and what's ugly and bring it to the world , work really hard to bring about equality in the society .

Sextile : This is a placement for the psychics healers and mystical beings , they learn that their position in the world is to heal and through their consistent efforts they heal themselves as well as others . They might find themselves in a state of dilemma sometimes as they are always energized with new ideas , they learn to channel it eventually.

Square : people with this can be a little stiff and scared about changes , they want things to be the same but to realise life's all about changes and how good one does to cope with it . These people are also very good at keep people on their toes. They guide themselves back to themselves. With this placement you don't loose your sense of self.

Opposite: A lot of people have their eyes on them and every move they make so they feel anxious and try to avoid changes . This placement can make one a control freak but if you choose to have faith in yourself and flow sometimes in life you will see the beauty of things that aren't forced , changes are necessary, cultivate the courage it requires to change .

Neptune 🌀

Conjunct : makes one a good artist , bestows beauty , other worldliness . Your dreams make so much impact in you daily life . Manifestation is your power you make it work for you all the damn time . It could bestow good healing powers and career in the therapy sector of all kinds. And this gives so much mystery to people.

Trine : They find very creative ways to channel their energy, might make one a bit lazy . They can work their emotions in a very creative way and achieve great things in life on the basis of their belief systems . Also good at predictions and reiki and astrology.

Sextile : These people are always full of surprises they have so much to give to the world , often they can come off as delusional but eventually they prove everyone wrong by getting all they want . However to warn the laziness if given a chance to grow will grow, so avoid it and go make the life you deserve

Square :. They have bizarre dreams , they aspire for a dreamland and seek ways to make the world a paradise , this in positive sense as they work hard to do things their way . Their homes are always so pretty and decorated . They can make anyone relax and calm down from the chaos . To truly grow in life they have to move with wisdom and have to accept all changes and chances with bravery.

Opposite : tw , this could lead to some sort of depression, addiction or inner conflicts , they seem and feel lonely or left out , they are great artists but their minds might be a little dark place to be in . To channel this energy properly is one great thing to live with the darkness and transmute it into light is great . Be sure of what you want and never ever bow down to what is trying to bring you down

I hope you enjoyed reading this post 🫂thank you so much, please consider reblogs and feedback it helps .

Suggestions for any post are open through the ask box

Have a great day/ night 😚

[dolicekiss]

Abundance Desire

PAIRING: Dad's bestfriend!Hannibal X Bratty!reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), dubcon, dark hannibal, age gap (reader is nineteen), mentions of patriarchy, unprotected sex, degrading, humiliation, spanking, impact play, messy kissing, hair pulling, perv hannibal, choking, breath play, exhibitionism.

SYNOPSIS: Your dad had always been the type to invite his friends over to attend glamorous dinners and everything you appeared dull, least interested in engaging with his old fellows. Too boring for you and always being told to be on your best behavior around them always irritated you but when another one of your father's guests arrive, you're left quite speechless. Handsome, charming and all the more enticing. You feel yourself drawn to him — but your bratty mouth makes things worse.

“Don't go around talking back to his guests.”

Was what you had always been told. The problem did not lie in you talking back to them, it was you putting them in their place everytime one of the old geezers commented about your behavior and how you were an exact replica of your mother. Your behavior, lack of discipline all came from her and you only wished to punch them in the face.

Fucking old people thinking they could get away with disrespect until you opened your mouth and showed them your true nature.

Today was one of those nights where your father had made your mother prepare a flourishing dinner, a grand one at that. It did not matter to him that she would grow tired, that she would sweat to the point of dehydration in the kitchen, as long as his fucking guests were content and full.

You hated them for that reason.

They could turn down the offer, but no.

You knew they were not at fault but you disliked each and every one of them.

Hearing the small knock on the door, your father ushered you to open it and you stood up from your seat, a big frown etched on your features. Upon opening the door, you were met with a much more handsome man that you'd expected. He was tall, evidently and his frame was larger than yours ever could be.

Hair a deep shade of golden and body draped in what appeared to be an expensive grey suit. His face carried a polite smile and all you could do was stare at him, enthralled by the amount of beauty this man possessed. The clearing of his throat caught you off guard, bringing you back to the real world.

“Hello, Dear. You must be his daughter.”

You nodded, at a loss of words. You stepped aside from the door, allowing the man in and he entered. In his hand was a black box and through the transparent sheet in the box you managed to catch a cake in there.

Precisely a chocolate cake.

Your favorite.

You almost smiled when the man handed the box to you, his fingers accidentally brushing over yours. It made you feel different, which made you realize how wrong all of this was. You couldn't be feeling this drawn to your father's friend — especially one that was nowhere near your age.

A decade older.

You shook your head, a feeble attempt to rid your head of thoughts regarding the mysterious man. He shook hands with your father as you eyed him, battling the allure this man had. Out of all your father's guest, this one apparently had the most grandeur dinner prepared for him. You did not like him already, as handsome as he was.

“Fucking ass.” You muttered to yourself, arms crossed over your chest and when your father signaled you to go over to the kitchen where your mother was practically slaving away under the pressures of a patriarchal household, you rolled your eyes and obliged.

Only because she most definitely needed your help.

Upon entering the kitchen, you were met with your mother who with the back of her one hand wiped away the perspiration from her forehead while with the other, whisked up some sauce. Her food was the best you'd ever tasted but this talent of hers played as a curse rather a blessing.

You sighed, reaching over and taking the whisk from her fingers. Copying her actions, whisking up the sauce for the goose laid before on tray. “I've got it. You should put the cake in the refrigerator.”

Your mother looked over to the black box you'd placed on the side of the counter and nodded, picking it up and heading towards the fridge. Just when you were done with the sauce, satisfied with its thick consistency, you poured it over the goose.

Your mother had prepared goose, beef along with shrimps. You were already starving and you knew she was too. Ever since you both had woken up, you were subjected to constant labor in the kitchen. Even after advising your father against your mother preparing dinner, taking out his guest being a better idea.

Of course the man was relentless in making his food connoisseur of a friend taste your mother's delicious food and rate it. Thus, your newfound irritation for the man was born.

Everything was done and when your mother fried the shrimps, decorating them beautifully on a pale plate, you were handed them in a tray to take outside. Your body was clumsy and everytime your mother would give you a task, she would also follow it up by a ‘be careful.’

You made your way out, thankfully wearing a short sundress which did not get in the way of you when you took the tray to the dining room. Your father's friend was already situated, gossiping about something unnecessary. You placed the tray down and lifted the plates, setting them in the middle.

You could feel his gaze upon you.

Upon looking up, you were met with him. Dark eyes focused on you, a smile causing lines in his cheeks and eyes. You quickly finished and walked back inside the kitchen with the tray in your arms, your platform heels clicking against the marble floor. Your mother was already waiting to hand you another tray, the second last and you repeated the same actions from before.

Placing the tray down — lips in a thin line, face stoic and eyes focusing on the plates you lifted. You were a clumsy girl and no matter how much you concentrated at a task at hand, you found yourself failing. As you picked up a glass, it slipped right from between your fingers.

The man reached over, to pick it up before you could, fingers brushing over yours in the process. “Be careful, Dear. You wouldn't want to break it now.”

You snatched the glass from underneath his loose grasp, placing it down on the table and smiling at him. “Don't worry, mister. I got it. This isn't my first time serving my father's rather useless friends.”

You'd whispered those words to him, with a evident fake smile on your lips. Hannibal was taken aback by your hostile behavior but he did not let it affect him — rather left him intrigued. You had a mouth to you and he enjoyed the mouthy ones, as long as they were pretty.

You had a certain allure to you.

How your hips swayed as you walked out of the kitchen, how your lips twitched in what he assumed irritation whenever your gaze captured him, bangs hovering over your forehead concealing it. Beauty had been bestowed on you and Hannibal was an admirer of art.

Even if it was forbidden.

Your father obviously was too busy smiling to even hear what you had said to his guest. You walked back inside, brought back another tray and this time your mother followed behind. Her apron untied and left on the kitchen counter and after the table was decorated, all of you sat down.

“This is a lot,” Hannibal said, very much impressed with the grandeur of the beautifully decorated dinner table. “I don't believe I would be able to stomach it all, really. You have tired yourself out, miss.”

You rolled your eyes but then, at least he'd taken his time to appreciate your mother's efforts unlike all the other guests. You still were not pleased with him and everyone began serving themselves. You watched as with each bite of the goose meat, Hannibal closed his eyes as if to really savor the taste of it.

“God, this is truly spectacular.” He praised, chewing onto the meat. “You are blessed with talent for culinary, miss.”

Your mother nodded, round cheeks flustered as she acknowledged the man's praise. Your father seemed the happiest, as if Hannibal’s validation meant everything to him. “Hannibal, I'm glad you're enjoying the food.”

So that was his name.

Hannibal Lecter.

You knew his last name since that is how your father had ordered to address him but his first name was unknown to you. Hannibal smiled, nodding his head while sliding off the meat from the fork, his lips puckered and plump. You swallowed, gaze lingering over the man's features.

Your father caught the almost empty glass of Hannibal and then looked over to you, placing his fork down. “Be a dear and pour Hannibal a glass of wine, girl.”

Your fingers tightened around the fork, placing it down and standing up. He was more than capable of pouring his own fucking wine but of course your father had to make you play little waitress — it is exactly what your mother had given birth to you for. Hannibal read your body language like it was an open book, understanding the annoyance swirling in your eyes.

You walked around the table to his side and grabbed the bottle rather roughly, aiming it over his glass and pouring the wine. In your anger, you filled his glass to the brim and accidentally spilled a few drops over his perfectly ironed suit. Your father gasped but Hannibal smiled.

“It is alright.” He reassured. “Accidents happen, may I know where the bathroom is?”

Your father, irritated, looked at you.

You nearly groaned. “I can lead you, if you'd just follow me.”

Your tone was venomous as you began walking into the direction of where the bathroom was, not waiting for the man to follow you up. Though his heavy footsteps were enough to tell you that he was right behind you. The bathroom was further into the house, down the hall in the corner and upon reaching it, you pointed at it rudely.

Hannibal tilted his head. “Help me clean this.”

“Excuse me? You're a grown man. First you fail to pour your own wine and now you expect me to clean this?” You scoffed at his expectations, losing restraint of your sharp tongue.

Hannibal stepped closer to you, locking you against the wall and you stared at him with panic filled eyes. He was too close, for his own good and your breath hitched. “Listen to me, little girl. I do not know what one sided problems you have with me nor do I care for it but you better mind your tongue.”

You stepped up, shrinking the distance between the two of you. “Or what, old man?”

He raised a brow in amusement, a smile crossing his features. Eyes locked with you, he stepped closer causing his chest to brush against yours. His breath, wine and rosemary, mingling with yours. Hannibal was not intoxicated, you knew that for sure.

“Little girls like you think they can go around disrespecting anyone.” He breathed on your face, tingles dancing over the bridge of your nose. “Wait until someone puts you in your place, then you won't be running your mouth.”

You laughed in his face. “Oh please. You're my father's guest, expect him to lick your fucking balls, not me.”

You tried walking away from him, but two steps in and his hand had already found its way around your arm. Hannibal pulled you back, your small frame colliding against the wall and a thudding sound broke through. A gasp fell from your lips and the endeavor to leave was proven futile when Hannibal wrapped a hand around your throat.

“Keep quiet.” He ordered and long gone was that sweet smile, replaced with a sharp look in his inundating gaze. “You're lucky you have a pretty face and I have an obsession with art.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Hannibal’s grip on your throat tightened, watching as you struggled in his hold. Petite hands punching at his wrist, but to no avail. You sputtered and tried to inhale some oxygen but the man had cut off your air supply tenaciously, not allowing you a whiff of the air.

Tears welled up in your eyes and at this point you could not even call out for your parents, as Hannibal had constricted your vocal chords from being used. Your pearly tears streamed down, face evolving into a deep hue of purple and that is when he released you, pushing you into the wall from the force.

You coughed, tears and drool everywhere.

Your desperate attempts to inhale some air into your expanded lungs was deemed adorable by Hannibal and he expected you to finally show some obedience. Your hands circled around your throat, a searing sensation spreading beneath the skin.

Your body shuddered at what this man was capable of. How under the veil of politeness and gentleness lurked darkness and tenacity.

“Clean the mess you’ve caused.” By that he meant the wine on his suit and you nodded, rushing inside the bathroom with him behind you.

You ran a wet towel underneath a running faucet and then turned to him with shaky fingers, clearly traumatized and afraid of what he was capable of. He noticed the tremor in your fingers, how you missed his thighs by an inch while trying to clean up the spilled wine.

“There.” You said, tossing the towel aside.

Your brattiness still had not left you and Hannibal smiled, knowing it would be fun to break a girl as adamant as you. It was obvious that you only needed time to recover from the brutality of his grip and you'd be back to disrespecting him.

“You're so pretty when you're obedient like this.” He praised, reaching out to run a thumb over your chin. You froze at the touch, lips trembling and the close proximity made you quiver in front of him like some little kitten, lead astray by someone evil. His touch now was in contrast to his monstrosity, what he'd done to your throat.

It was soft, like he meant it.

Like he traced your chin to embed his mind with it.

You wanted to stay silent but your damned tongue. “I wish I could say the same about a man as incapable as you are.”

Those words caused the soft trace of a thumb across your chin into a harsh, searing grasp. You whimpered when he tugged your whole body forward with little to no force, holding you in place. You saw him lean in, with sheer determination to capture your lips in a kiss and he did.

No amount the struggle, resistance and fight you showed.

He took your lips like the pair belonged to him. Hannibal encircled an arm around your waist and pulled you into him, your perfect little ass pressing into his crotch. His lips savored yours, sucking and biting and all you could do was struggle against his bone crushing hold.

Hannibal had lost his grip on morality, if it even existed. When his dear coworker invited him over for dinner, he never thought he would be engaging in such sinful acts with his daughter. The same daughter he'd seen pictures of, shown to him and the other coworkers by your father. You were such a pretty lamb, perfect face and luscious hair but what he did not expect was for you to have such a foul mouth.

He pushed his hips into yours and you felt something hard, perched on the curve of your small ass.

The more you struggled, the more it worked to arouse Hannibal. His golden strands hovered over his forehead as he somehow managed to pry open your mouth, harshly entering your mouth. His tongue wrapping around yours, fucking your mouth and all you could do was struggle.

Sounds of clothes bustling and kissing filled up the bathroom but thankfully the water running silenced your sounds. Hannibal’s other hand moved to grab a fistful of your perky tits through your dress and he groaned upon feeling them without a bra.

Fingers pinching and twisting your nipples rather roughly.

The kiss, once broken, left you completely light headed. A string of saliva trailing from his lips to yours, testament to what he had done to you. Your teary eyes were wide with shock as Hannibal continued drilling his bulge into your ass.

“Please,” You whimpered, palm half the size of his trying to push at his bicep. “my father will find out.”

Hannibal broke from you, not wishing to raise suspicion. He left you deserted in the bathroom and made his way back to the dinner table. You took time to stare at your disheveled reflection in the mirror — straps of the pale dress loosely sitting around your arms and purple prints on your throat intimidated you.

Your skin was tainted and you released your hair from the ponytail they were in, covering the sides of your throat with it. Hannibal had put most pressure around your throat, not directly on it.

You pursued him too and found your parents engaging in a conversation with him. His gaze met yours, with a subtle warning as you sat down on the couch. You should've told your parents about the heinous act, but you didn't and you didn't know whether it was because you lacked the courage or because you simply liked it.

How rough he was, how inhumane.

The dinner soon came to an end and Hannibal was forced to stay back by your parents. It was obvious that he also wanted to stay back, maybe for you and the thought made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

“Delicious cooking, miss. I truly enjoyed each and every dish.” Hannibal once more praised your mother and she flourished, murmuring a thank you.

Your father lead him to the guest room which was on the first floor while your room was at the top second one. You helped your mother clean the table and washed the amount of dishes which had piled up in the sink. You took your time while everyone else went to sleep — your arms sore from the amount of cleaning. It was truly tiring but there wasn't much you could do. Your mother’s tiredness was written all over her face and you could not bring about to ask her to help you.

But at least now everything was peaceful.

You'd put on light music in the background to help you clean around the kitchen, soapy hands rubbing the sponge over the tray as you moved your hips to the music. This time of the hour made you the happiest — no one to boss you around or interrupt you, bother you or irritate you.

“Having fun, aren't you?”

Your feet moved, leaping as you turned around to face the owner of the deep Lithuanian accent. “Mr. Lecter.”

Your blood ran a little cold upon recalling the events from a fee yours ago, shoulders stiffening and Hannibal, an expert at reading body language caught yours. Your little dress was soaked around your stomach from the water being splashed, exposing your taut stomach.

“Burdening a little girl with such hardwork, you deserve a reward for this.” He walked over and leaned against the counter. You noticed the change of clothes — suit and vest long gone, only left behind was his button up shirt and his dress pants. His sleeves were rolled up to expose his arms and you glanced at the protruding veins embedded underneath the skin.

You let out a laugh. “Like I said, nothing new. I'm quite used to cleaning after my father's useless guests.”

You closed your eyes, knowing you'd once again lost control of your tongue. But you did not feel bad. You felt the man move, his ever looming presence towering over you and tou sucked in a harsh breath.

“Bratty little girl.” He whispered, large hands sitting atop your waist, rubbing up and down.

You whimpered at his touch, subconsciously pressing your ass deeper into his crotch, awakening his restless cock. Hannibal thought he had you, right where he wanted but he was wrong. You'd grown a liking to his rough behavior and how easily he put you in your place.

“Did you come here for dinner or to prey on your colleague's young daughter? If he finds out, he would surely be disgusted by what a perverted man you are.” You shamed him for his sickly desires, shaking your head in disappointment.

Hannibal’s fingers dug into your sides. “Do you take me for a creep?”

“You're worse. Probably have done this to other girls and now I'm next on your line. A woman your age surely would not want you, seeing how fucking desperate you are.” Your words ignited a burning fire within him and he turned you around, pushing his hips into your concealed mound.

The visible tent in his pants only growing and your breath broke when you felt him push deeper into you. His hand moved to your hair, grasping your roots and tugging on them making you wince. Your whimpered was swallowed by Hannibal as he devoured your lips, his other free hand tugging at the thin spaghetti straps of your dress.

Unveiling your perky tits to him, he broke the kiss and started to litter kisses down the trail which connected your neck and jaw. You tried to push him off, punching at his broad chest but god, you were fucking helpless and pathetic against him.

Chills danced across your spine, maneuvering path to your pulsating cunt. Your heart beat rapid, lips falling apart to let out the prettiest of sounds.

Hannibal tore himself from you, with too much power and in the heat of the moment dragged you towards the dinner table. He pulled out a chair, sat down on it and then bent you over his lap. You couldn't make much noise of struggle as you didn't wish to disturb the peaceful sleep of both your parents.

His large hands moved your dress all the way up to your waist, exposing your sweet cunt and bare ass to him. The cold air made goosebumps protrude at your skin and you cried out, trying to move away from his lap.

“Stop, please.” You whined. “Let me go, please sir. Leave me!”

“Shut the fuck up.” He snapped, striking down his palm across your ass causing you to yelp and flinch. “You wouldn't want to wake up your parents now, do you? Their slut of a daughter managed to seduce their guest.”

You pouted but the moisture in your pussy was proof that you relished this.

He slammed his hand back down again and the sound reverberated in the confinement of the kitchen. Burning sensation flooded into your skin as he delivered another tight slap to your ass, the impact forcing you to surge forward.

“Such a perfect little ass.” Hannibal compliments, running his palm over the fat piece of globe. Your skin was so supple and soft, it drove him insane and he couldn't want to fully sink inside your little cunt. From how you behaved, you were probably a virgin.

You winced when he squeezed the flesh and then went back to hitting you, causing your skin to burn a deep shade of red. Tears had welled up, and with each hit, streamed down in rivulets. Your ass incinerated and your cunt throbbing, clenching around nothing but emptiness. “I-It hurts, Mr. Lecter, p-please. I promise, I-I won't talk back to you again.”

“Oh quiet now.” He slapped your ass again, watching the flesh jiggle with force and his cock felt like it would burst open. “Your little cunt is twitching and throbbing. You're enjoying this like the whore you are.”

You tried shaking your head to disagree but Hannibal ran his fingers across your slick, glistening folds, bringing it to show you.

“Yeah? Still going to deny that you're getting off this?”

You whimpered when he shoved his fingers into your mouth, making you suck on them. Your cheeks full and round as he moved your hand, making you take his fingers and gag on them like some whore. You were panting, bubbles of drool all around his fingers and your mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut and more tears fell.

Hannibal pulled his fingers out of your mouth and grinned, plunging them both at the same time in your soaked cunt. You cried out but buried your face into his thigh, concealing the echo of your moans. The burning stretch in your untouched cunt was nothing as there was more yet to come. You writhed on his lap but he held you in place, fucking his fingers into you.

“You're sucking in my fingers like its a damn cock, little girl. Do you like it, my fingers buried to the hilt inside this greedy pussy of yours?” Even he was breathless and you whined, shaking your head but Hannibal knew better than to believe your adamant responses.

He curved his fingers, pushing them deeper and you sobbed endlessly, a mess you'd become. “P-Please.”

Your pleas had fallen upon deafened ears as Hannibal quickened his pace, with determination to pull a hot scorching orgasm out of you. His fingers managed to push into your sensitive spongy spot and your back arched off his lap, face cladded in foreign pleasure. His lips broke into a smirk as he repeatedly delivered harsh thrusts to that spot.

Your stomach tightened, thighs twitching and Hannibal figured your release was probably dancing around you. “I feel it— oh my god. I feel it, please slow down. Please fucking slow down.”

He didn't care.

Squelchy sounds paired with your muffled whines filled up the entirety of the kitchen, elevating the room with tension. Hannibal's repeated hits caused your stomach to tighten, eyes disappearing back into your skull and your orgasm taking full control of your twitchy little body.

It was all powerful, sucking the energy out of you when hot white pulsed through your veins and you unraveled right on his fingers.

Shoulders twitching, sensitive whimpers escaping your lips. Your cunt had gripped his fingers like a vice and he could only imagine what you would do to his cock. The thought drove his hunger, heightened it and when Hannibal pulled out of you, his fingers grazing against your wet walls made you whine.

He grabbed you, standing up and your wobbly legs made you give up. Lower body spent but this was merely the beginning. Pushing you up against table, he sat you down on it and parted open your legs to expose your pink cunt to him. Swollen, spent but still had more to offer.

“I'm gonna fuck this cunt of yours now. It'll feel much better than my fingers.” He whispered to you, hastily unbuckling his pants and retrieving his cock. Your hooded eyes enlarged upon witnessing the sheer size of his manhood — cock head leaking with pre cum and veins embedded in the length of it.

You shook your head. “I-I’ve never done this before. It won't fit, please. It won't.”

“I'll make it fucking fit.” He snapped at you, slapping you across the face. As beautiful as you were, the ability to annoy someone to the point of insanity was deeply rooted in to you and Hannibal could only handle so much. “Be a good girl and hold open your cunt for me, invite me in. Beg me to fuck you.”

You shook your head as you wept. “No.”

“Don't fucking test me. Do you want me to hit you again?” His threats made you reach for your pussy, spreading apart your glistening folds with your fingers and exposing the pink gaping hole to him. Because you had already have released, it only made you more sensitive and your untouched clit throbbed.

“And the begging?”

“P-Please fuck me, Mr. Lecter. Please, put your cock in me.” You were a sobbing, sputtering mess. Incoherent words everywhere and Hannibal realized he had truly broken you, not that it mattered to him.

He aligned his cock with your hole, looking up at you. “Hold it open like this for me. You only let go when I allow you to, understood?”

You nodded.

Hannibal landed a slap to your right cheek. “Use that bratty mouth of yours, baby.”

“Yes, mister.” You whispered, getting used to his harsh hits as brusque as they were.

Hannibal prodded at your hole, finally pushing his cock into you. He didn't let you get used to him, sinking fully into you and you muffled your cries by biting down on your lower lip. The force of it so harsh and potent, enough to draw out blood. Your hands ached to grab a hold of him, cling to him for dear life but he had not allowed you to let go of your cunt.

“Oh,” Hannibal groaned, chest rumbling with unbridled desire. “such a tight little cunt. If I knew he was keeping such a beautiful little girl here, I would've come sooner to attend his dinners.”

You sobbed, quietly, tears and drool making a mess on your face. Lips glistening from saliva as Hannibal buried himself inside your wet walls to the hilt.

“P-Please, wanna hold you. It hurts, please sir.” You begged, hoping that it would work to melt him and it did. Hannibal gave you a nod of approval and you were quick to cling onto him, small arms wrapped around his nape as he drilled his cock into you.

Rapidly thrusting in, hips stuttering and pelvis meeting yours. Your bare cunt made him hungry, a starved mad man who knew he would come begging for more. Looking down, he saw crimson coating his cock in the form of a ring — a testament that he had defiled a beautiful girl like you. Not that it mattered. He would do it again.

Both hands pressed against each side of you on the table, Hannibal used it to support himself while bruising your cervix. Your wails of oversensitivity were muffled by his lips as he drank them, his own growls a threat to this rendezvous. His pace was relentless, full of vigor and you could not keep up anymore.

Letting him use you like some toy, face buried in his chest.

“Beautiful girl,” he praised, heart fluttering at the sight of you so small in his hold. “with a sweet little addicting cunt. Can't wait to fill you up.”

You whined in his chest as his balls throbbed and cock head pummeled into your swollen cunt. Hannibal felt himself near, his peak around but he wanted to make you come. The second time, knowing it would be more intense than the first one.

Your stomach was taut — full of butterflies and your thighs convulsed in anticipation, heart pattering like wild rain drops over a stone. Your fingernails dug into the skin of his nape when your second, searing orgasm tore through you and your lower body immediately gave out. Loud sobs suppressed as Hannibal brutally took you like a hound.

“Sir, sir. Oh my god, It's so— I can't. Can't please.” You begged endlessly, forehead sweaty. You pulled your head from his chest, looking up at him, tits bouncing with each thrust.

He looked as disheveled as you. Shirt messily unbuttoned, not all the way, only a few buttons. Forehead drenched in sweat, golden ringlets glued to it. His lips panted and eyes shut as his hands found their grip on your small waist, drilling his cock at an animalistic pace at you.

Hannibal finally broke, reaching his high. He spilled inside you, balls hot and throbbing leaving you gasping when you felt his hot seed paint your walls. Reaching as far as your womb. “Yes. Fuck, oh god. Such a tight little pussy, a fucking whore you are.”

You were breathless and so was he, growling like an animal.

Hannibal soon pulled out, watching as your gaping hole sputtered out his seed. Pink tainted with white, and some remnants of crimson. You were spent, body falling back on the table.

“That was amazing.” He whispered, staring at you.

You were too fucked out to even say anything and Hannibal almost felt bad. Though he didn't. He picked you up, into his arms and took you to his room down the hallway since leaving you on the kitchen table sprawled out like that would put him and you both in trouble.

Your head buried in his chest, holding onto him.

This was, hands down and no doubt, the best dinner of his life.

[syoddeye]

down the hatch / badgering

141 x f!reader | ~1.9k | series page tags: p in v sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, bad jokes, manipulation, spanking, manhandling a/n: you know that tunnel scene in willy wonka and the chocolate factory? that's how it feels when i write this. a hoot and a half. banner by @/cafekitsune.

it’s an adjustment. living with roommates again. roommates who refuse to leave, thanks to all the death and destruction outside. convenient excuse, really.

no more naked mornings. you could go tits out—they fucking do—but you’re not entirely without reason. as salivating as they are, the hunks are your enemies.

even if they’ve showered, trimmed, and got some of the bloodstains out of their clothes. 

even if soap makes canned meat and powdered eggs palatable, whipping up a spam and rice bowl for you without asking.

even if gaz finds a five-hundred-piece puzzle on a scavenging trip and bites his tongue when you bat his hand away when he tries to help sort the pieces.

even if ghost slips a game of hangman under your door at lights out, and lets you guess a couple of letters each night. (first word? ‘wanker’. second? ‘larynx.’)

even if john—well, wait, no. the asshole hasn’t made a peace offering. probably because he knows you won’t honor them or because he’s sore about the whole ‘no cool nickname’ thing. whatever.

at night, alone in your room, you plot. how does one evict four man-roaches? make living with you worse than living outside.

in a weird way, your austrian neighbor and his aspirations for a fucking von trapp family: the squeakuel comes in handy. he hoarded all types of junk.

soap’s your guinea pig. he’s moody. something’s always itching under his skin. he snaps at the other men too easily and watches you like a dog admiring meat hanging off a bone. opportunity arrives one morning when john and gaz head topside and ghost settles in the living room. you corner the scotsman in the bunker’s tiny gym.

you linger in the doorway, fixated on the dark shapes under soap’s armpits. his mohawk sags, beads of sweat streaking over the freshly shorn hair. down his flexing muscles. and the grunting, christ. it’s a peek into heaven, which makes ruining it difficult.

without a word, you plop onto the other bench and take up the clarinet you found in your room. channeling the gusto of gus polinski, you wet your lips. how hard can it be? you don’t know polka, but you know rossini.

soap’s head snaps at the opening notes, nearly fumbling a pair of dumbbells, his face a flurry of anger, amusement, and annoyance. it’s a valiant effort, his ignoring you, but in the end, you only make it halfway through your best attempt at the william tell overture before he cracks. he rips the instrument from your hands and tosses it aside. he stands over you, smelly and slick, breathing heavily through his nose. 

you end up dragging him to your room.

soap is the definition of a romp in the sheets. a no-holds-barred deathmatch. it’s the first dick you’ve caught in months, and what a reintroduction. a miracle the bed survives. he starts with his mouth sealed to your clit, tongue working like it’s making up for lost time, as if your cunt and his face go way back. it’s refreshing, but you saw how fast he dropped to his knees for gaz.

two orgasms slip out by the time he wrenches off his damp clothes, chin glistening and eyes glittering. he goes cross-eyed the second his dick slaps against your folds, and you laugh at his desperate groaning when he sinks in. though, your laughs are choked off by his sudden, furious thumbing of your clit. (you punch him in the stomach—ignoring the filthy moan that elicits—and hiss out, “a genie isn’t gonna come out, stop fucking rubbing so hard!”) he ends up coming on your stomach and contorts to lick it off, muttering little gratitudes into your skin. it’s…cute. kind of gross, but cute. you kick him out after a power nap.

soap’s a wash. ba-dum tish. try, try again.

you set your sights on gaz. he’s tricky.

it quickly becomes apparent he’s the best at scavenging. smug about it, too, which you leverage. his ego’s easy enough to feed despite his unease. all it takes is batting your lashes and complimenting his hauls.

amazing. this must be the last jar of berbere ever.

pads? for me? so considerate, i’m stunned.

a mostly intact game of monopoly? wow, here, i thought we were done with landlords and taxes.

it’s simple. you begin with small requests. toothpicks. socks. lip balm. when he returns, he drops the goods in your lap like a cat with a mouse. stares at you with those pretty eyes while you lay it on thick. 

you escalate. either he’ll die on your absurd fetch quests or go crazy trying to fulfill them. brand new period panties. a specific type of hair dye. unopened baby lotion. naturally, he can’t find any of them. he still delivers approximations—granny pants, food coloring, and half a bottle of moisturizer—with a hopeful smile you crush under feigned hums of disappointment. ah, well, if this is the best you can do. it chips away at him. his smiles tighten.

you figure he’ll make a dumb mistake on his next outing out of some fucked desperation, and you’ll be down a roach. but after you tell him to keep an unopened pack of nail varnish because they aren’t your colors, he loses it. this time, you’re dragged to bed.

gaz pins you to the mattress, one hand on your throat and the other shoved into your leggings. pupils blown to the point where they’re shark-like. you’d spare a thought for all the poor creatures dead in aquarium tanks across the globe if he wasn’t hellbent on shoving a third finger in.

“so bloody irritating,” gaz seethes. “spoiled and greedy. have you always been a brat, or am i special?”

you spend your ration of oxygen wisely. “i think you think you’re special.”

for that, your knees meet your chest, and your pussy nearly chokes his dick. or so he tells you, pure filth spewing from his mouth. you giggle madly through the slight pinch of pain, mirroring the feral grin on his face. he’s big, and you could be wetter, but you’re not on your back for good behavior. he’s happy to tell you about that, too. how awful you are.

disappointingly, it doesn’t take long for him to lose his grasp on language. a shame, given his shit talk. 

he bats your hand away from your clit when you try to coax your orgasm along. clicks his tongue, eyes half-mast, and smirks. “gonna be good? gonna thank me?” 

in another world, you’d nod. whatever you say, beautiful. in this world, however, you flip the bird, and he flips you.

gaz pants like a bull, pulling you back onto his cock with an iron grip on your hips. his hand comes down across your ass, but there’s this je ne sais quoi missing. it’s the thought that counts, you guess.

after he makes a mess, you fully expect gaz to continue his tirade. instead, he finds a towel. he rolls you over and tucks you in. thanks you. it’s a shame memoirs are meaningless now as the perfect title comes to mind: ‘bunker bumping: backshots in the apocalypse’.

okay. zero for two. historically, settling for 50% isn’t unlike you. 

back at the drawing board, you reevaluate. annoying the men to death hasn’t worked, and they’re exceptionally durable in dogshit conditions. each day, they get closer to rigging the equipment necessary to contact their ‘friends’, seemingly unperturbed by your efforts. in fact, they seem more comfortable. at home. they poke around the utility room to assess what needs maintenance or improvement. the nerve.

it’s untenable. no matter what that dumb voice in your head insists, you miss solitude. miss not having an audience. you want to watch leon and the silence of the lambs without commentary. dance naked. leave the toilet door open. 

you withdraw.

the bedroom becomes your bunker within the bunker. you take meals alone. painstakingly move your puzzles and hoard books. shower at night after they go to bed. ignore them in the halls. keep your mouth shut when someone addresses you. it’s a fruitless endeavor, keeping your head in the sand, but a part of you hopes if you become as unobtrusive as possible, they’ll forget you exist. after all, they have each other. they put those squeaky single beds through the wringer.

problem is, you don’t account for scragglebeard himself. nosy fucker. 

it happens on shower night. towel-clad and testy, you trudge from the bathrooms and find your door open. you freeze in the hall, hearing clinking sounds and lowered voices. gaz and soap emerge, ferrying dishes and dirty clothes, not sparing so much as a glance. your stomach twists, immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario. they’re reclaiming the space, and they’re finally going to kill you.

unfortunately, it’s not so simple.

“whatever this is,” john sternly says the second you enter the room, “we’re going to fix it.”

ghost traipses past, arms full of unopened cans and more dishware. you glare at his back, then turn to john.

“get the fuck out.”

he chuckles. “sweetheart, what’s not clickin’? this isn’t just your shelter anymore.”

“got it,” ghost reenters, a roll of duct tape held aloft. 

well. you had a nice run. sure, the calamity was a setback, but considering you probably lasted longer than everyone you ever hated, present company aside, that’s a tick in the win column. 

however, ghost doesn’t bind your limbs or cover your mouth. he crouches at the ventilation shaft connecting our rooms, rips off several pieces of tape, and covers most of the grid. “you fuckin’ talk in your sleep.” he points at the small hole he left uncovered and stands. “my bed’s right through ‘ere. it’s fuckin’ unsettlin’.” grumbling, he shuffles out once more.

john’s not shy about scanning you from top to bottom, but apparently, he doesn’t like what he sees. he turns away. “what are we missing?”

you pick through what’s left of your clean clothes. “loaded question.” poking your head through a shirt, you shimmy the towel to your hips.

“where else would you find a clarinet?”

“up your–” he glares over his shoulder, and you smile sweetly. “there’s a small storage space in the closet here. it’s empty now.”

“we found the surveillance room and utilities. it stands to reason that there are others.” john scratches his chin, watching you like a hawk as you pull on shorts. 

“oh. you think?”

“i do.”

“well, think outside of my room. i’m going to bed.” you move to the bed and listen to john close the distance. he hovers, his breath hitting your neck in an exasperated huff. it sends a shiver down your spine. you bet he’s got what gaz was missing—experience behind the swing of his palm.

“like it or not, sweetheart, we’re sticking around. now, i’d prefer it if we kept things civil. based on what the boys told me, i know you’re capable of being friendly.”

it’s not the smartest decision in the world, wheeling on a man trained to kill. he catches your wrist as it winds up and twists it sharply behind your back. with one solid push, you get a mouthful of linen as your body promptly hinges at the waist. an angry string of obscenities gets lost in the sheets. you’ve never been so humiliated. or breathtakingly aroused.

john tuts.

“bad call, badger.”

[moonstruckme]

id love to request spencer reid with a shy!reader🙈🙈 i love him sm and your work even more!! if this doesn't appeal to you thats all cool i hope you have a great day!!!

Love you <3

Spencer Reid x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

Spencer peers over the top of his cubicle as you type up your report, the mug of coffee he’d brought you still full and no longer steaming. He’s got a hypothesis. 

On Tuesday, he’d brought you a coffee at your desk. It had gone over like most interactions with you; you’d gone a bit red in the face, thanked him profusely, and cradled the mug in your hands like it was the most precious thing in your possession. But when he’d left that night, Spencer had seen the mug sitting on your desk, still full to the brim with dark, cold coffee. He’d brought you another today to see if those results would repeat. He feels a bit guilty for not just talking to you about it, but he’s got a theory and he knows you’d deny it if he asked. So instead, he’s sneaking furtive glances over the top of his cubicle, waiting until enough time has passed to call it. 

“What’re you peeping at?” 

He swivels his chair and Morgan’s leaning his hand on Spencer’s desk all suave-like. Spencer makes a face indicating he should be quiet, but you look up with a quiet “Hm?” and there’s nothing Morgan loves more than exposing him for his schemes. 

“Pretty boy here keeps looking over at your desk,” Morgan says. Spencer turns again, and your cheeks are already getting pinkish. Another thing Morgan loves: bringing attention to you, even though it’s your own personal circle of hell. “I just want to know why.” 

“I’m testing a theory,” Spencer admits. 

Unabashed interest gleams in Morgan’s eye. He quirks an eyebrow. “And what’s that?” 

Spencer tries to convey some apology in his look, and by the wariness in your features you read it. “You don’t actually drink coffee, do you?” 

The response is clear even before you open your mouth. Your eyes drop to the full mug on your desk, shoulders hunching inward sheepishly and face taking on a fire engine-esque hue. 

“I don’t,” you say quietly. And if there wasn’t already enough apology in your tone, you tack on a quick, “Sorry.” 

“No, don’t be sorry,” he says quickly while Morgan looks between you two and the coffee curiously. “That’s what I thought.” 

“Hold up.” Morgan’s eyebrows go up, and you shrink further. “I brought you coffee just the other day. You’re telling me you’re not drinking it?” 

“No,” you murmur. You look as though you fully expect to be shunned for your answer. 

“Then why not say something?” 

Spencer thinks that’s fairly obvious, but he’s not going to answer for you. 

“I just…” You’ve got your hands in your lap now, probably fiddling with something under your desk in that nervous way of yours. Spencer wishes you’d warm up to them. You’re new and green and always so certain you’re doing something wrong, but he wishes he could pull your hands from beneath the desk and soothe them—soothe you—until you were comfortable. “I didn’t want you to think I didn’t appreciate it.” 

He can see Morgan ready to dissent, so Spencer cuts in. 

“Do you just not like coffee?” he asks, trying to stay as far from interrogative as he can for your benefit.

You do seem to relax a bit, pulling your stare from Morgan’s eagerly. “I just can’t do caffeine,” you admit. “It makes me too jumpy.” 

Spencer can’t really imagine you much more skittish than you already are on a daily basis, so he agrees that’s for the best. 

“I have seen you drink it, though.” Morgan’s voice is bemused. “In the break room. You had a cup just the other day.” 

“It was decaf,” you tell him softly. 

“We have decaf?”

“Have you looked on the top shelf of the cabinet?” Spencer asks. “There’s a surprising amount of variety. We have decaf, teas, hot chocolate mix—sometimes even apple cider mix.” 

You nod, starting to look less fidgety. Spencer likes to get you like this when he can. It’s an ongoing project of his. Maybe it’s just that it’s easier to relax when the people around you are relaxed too, but there’s something about setting you at ease in particular that makes his chest feel warm and full. That might be something else to look into. When he has time. 

“Yeah, yeah, the wonders of the top cabinet.” Morgan waves this off, as if he’s ever heard of it before (he hasn’t, Spencer can tell). “All I’m hearing is that you let us bring you coffee for weeks just because you were worried we’d bite your head off if you said something.” 

You grimace, but there’s a bit less tension in you now as you look up at Morgan, thoroughly chastened. “Sorry,” you all but whisper. 

“Fine,” he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, “I forgive you. Decaf only from now on, got it.” 

“Thanks,” you squeak as he turns around, sauntering back to his own desk. Your eyes find Spencer, meeting his for a fraction of a second before dropping to his chin. “Sorry I didn’t drink your coffee.” 

“It’s really fine,” he almost laughs, and the humor in his voice gives you the confidence to lift your eyes to his again. He’s glad for it. “I don’t care, I was just curious why you didn’t like it. And for the record,” he leans closer to the short wall dividing your desks, speaking low, “if there’s anything else like that, you can tell me. I won’t bite your head off the way he does.” He cuts a glance towards Morgan’s desk. You push your lips together, tamping down a smile. Spencer grins too, partly to encourage you and partly because he wants to. 

“Thank you.” Your voice is quiet, a new teasing edge to it that he likes the sound of. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up.” 

“Great.” He reaches over, taking the mug from your desk. “I’m going to go pour this down the drain. Do you want me to grab you a decaf?” You can’t seem to decide between thanks so much and really, you don’t have to, so Spencer brings you one anyway.

[catiuskaa]

THIS ISN’T WHAT FRIENDS DO.

PAIRING! best friend!felix x reader

SUMMARY: you're friends- duh! best friends are close to each other, even if this could be... too close. still, no one can really blame you! that chocolate was far too good anyways.

REQUESTED! here by @lemon-va, who had a spicy kind of good idea, so, sorry it took so long, sweetness, but i hope u like it! <3

CW: convenient minsung strikes again. fluffy smut! mentions and use of aphrodisiac chocolate, use of petnames: princess, darling, pretty, oral sex (f & m rec.) + mentions of protected piv sex (as everyone should!), fluffy aftercare, and I think that's all!

WC: 3.1k

A/N! TYSM FOR THIS, COULD FINALLY FIND AN EXCUSE TO USE THEE DLC FELIX PIC, LMAO

[🔸☆🌆☆🔸]

He smells like home.

It’s the first time you find yourself reeling in the feeling of his hands, one around your waist, and how perfectly you fit cuddled against Felix’s chest, your eyes fixated on him as he focuses on the TV series you both were watching together.

You probably shouldn’t feel as giddy about it as you do. It’s definetely a more-than-friends action. And that’s not what Felix and you have.

He’s just your best friend.

He’s the type of friend that back hugs you, either if it’s because he wants a hug or because he ‘thought you looked like you needed one.’ The type of friend that has ultimately stopped using your name to talk to you, finding pet names under the rocks just to see you giggle. The type of friend that will always have a door or window open for you, having built a kind of trust that allows him to get closer and closer without any tuts, actions like tenderly wiping the excess of that brownie he gave you off the corner of your lip, tilting your chin with a soft touch of his fingers, then licking the chocolate off his thumb.

You can’t focus on the ways his eyes shine brighter, holding too many stars, having some of them pose as freckles on his skin. Can’t even start to listen to your friends or his flatmates when they start rambling about how his smile widens everytime you enter in a room, or how you’re the only one that has the power of making him pause his games, and even the online ones, which are impossible to pause, meaning he turns off league for you.

But, that just… no. You can’t allow yourself to hope so foolishly, right? It wouldn’t be fair. Not for you or him. Does that even make sense?

Before you spiral down to an unhealty amount of overthinking your feelings for him, he’s moving underneath you, his hands craddleing your face.

“You’re not paying attention, silly.” He teases with a cute grin, pausing the show. A thought flashes through your head, and you have to hold back to not wipe his smile off by planting your lips on his.

“Sorry,” you blush and smile sheepishly, but he brushes it off with another blinding smile of his, his eyes like crescent moons. “Feeling kind of sleepy,” you mumble softly.

He takes his phone from his back pocket, moving his hips with you still laying on him in a swift action that has you blushing even more. You mentally shake your head.

These thoughts needed to stop before your face reaches the the tomato-red level… meaning: now.

“It’s barely 6pm.” He’s just pointing it out, and then licking his lips, thinking about how to word what he wants to say. “You shouldn’t drive… It’s too dark. We can steal Seungmin’s pillow, cause he’s off at Hyunjin’s for tonight, and you can sleep in my room.”

Felix’s smile could make you do anything.

“Sure. That sounds nice.” You know you’re using the sleepyness to your advantage when you hide your head on the crook of his neck, moving and streching your body like a kitten, and you humm against his soft skin. “No need to steal Seungmin’s pillow. You’re my pillow now.”

And you both take it as a joke, but if he could just say that he wanted to, it would’ve never been a joke.

“C’mon, pretty.” He cutely ushers you off him, and starts heading to the kitchen, your footsteps following his, grabbing the almost-forgotten popcorn bowls, now empty.

He opens the fridge, grabbing water for the two of you as you leave the bowls in the sink. You sit on top of the counter with no thoughts behind, sipping the water calmly.

You never could’ve guessed that the silly little question that was going to come off of your lips would unexpectedly change the whole night.

A 180° spin, started by your sleepy voice pointing to a bowl with some kind of plastic paper over it.

“What’s that?” You asked softly.

Felix just shrugged, taking the bowl and quickly discarding the plastic.

“Looks like chocolate?” And he frowned, struggling to remember something. It felt important, and it kept itching the back of his mind. “I think that Minho and Han made it a bunch of hours ago.”

You smiled. “Then it must be good. Minho is one hell of a chef,” you laughed, and took a small piece from the several stack of round, coin-like bits.

Instinctively, Felix picked one too, taking a bite at the same time as you, and you both were surprised by its flavour.

“Shit, that’s better than I imagined,” you muttered, frowning at the chocolate piece in your hand, as if it could give you all the answers regarding its taste. “Didn’t expect it to be black chocolate.”

Felix snickered, picking another one. “You do look like a white chocolate enthusiast.”

You gasped, faking offense, a hand to your chest and the other in the bowl, picking another piece. “Excuse me?!” You couldn’t help but smile cheekily. “White chocolate isn’t even chocolate.”

Felix frowned in response, a goofy smile on his face. “Yes it is.” He pointed out, munching at his third or fourth piece. “That why it’s called white chocolate, baby.”

You shook your head vigorously, too invested in the silly discusion to process how that nickname made you feel. “But it doesn’t have actual chocolate on it! It’s just milk and sugar!” You argued as you munched on your sixth piece.

You were about to take another one, but his soft hand stopped you.

“Wait. How many did you take?” He shot a toothy grin at you.

You snorted.

“Shit.” You both said, sneakily smiling, almost like a pair of small children that got away with a lie.

Felix giggled with you, quickly putting back the plastic cover on the bowl and leaving it on its place. As if nothing had happen.

Little did you two know.

“I call dibs on showering first!” Felix cackled.

[🔸☆🌆☆🔸]

Different types of questions bursted in your mind. They should have been easy to answer.

Questions like why and how.

It wasn’t just something that could happen randomly. Not as intense as right now. Because your whole body was burning up like it had been lit up in fire, desperate for any kind of relief.

And so you just stood there, inside Felix’s shower, unable to get out and dress in some random pj’s he lend you because you were soaking wet.

Why were you this horny? No fucking idea.

How on Earth were you this horny? Still no fucking idea!

It could’ve been five or maybe ten minutes that you spent resting your back against the cold tiled wall in his shower, splashing cold water onto your red cheeks, hoping to cool off.

And you consider several options in that moment, only one seemingly effective: to run away, change your name and fly to Spain.

Because Felix had just knocked on the door.

“H-hey.” His tone of voice feels different. “Are you good in there?”

Felix, Felix, Felix.

You feel a pool of arousal forming in your lower belly.

You shake your head almost fiercely. What the fuck is happening? This is so weird. Could it be that you just fell asleep on Felix’s chest and this was all a really strange dream?

He knocks on the bathroom door again.

“D-darling?”

Fuck, shit, fuck.

“Yes?” You answer, a high-pitched tone that makes you cringe.

“I-I uh… I s-screwed up.”

His tone of voice feels weak and soft, almost traced with guilt.

You frown, taking the towel and surrounding your body with it, tucking it and making it stay on, like a robe.

Leaning closer to the door, you sigh softly. “What’s wrong, Lix?”

You could hear him breathing heavily behind the door. A merely two to five steps away.

“Can I… open the door?”

Your eyes widen at his words. And you know its not the most inteligent decision you could make right now, but you bite your lip and open the door.

“S-shit.” Felix mutters, his eyes glued to your body, his face and ears crimson red.

You force your eyes to look at his face, and not at the seemingly painful bulge on his pants.

“S-so…” he takes his hands to his forehead, and passes a hand through his hair. “The chocolate we had… that uh… Minho and Jisung made…”

You blink at him, trying to process his words when your dizzy and fuzzy brain is sending you other ideas.

“And I don’t know how much we actually had…” he’s stressed out, rubbing his eyes, grasping for any sort of remaining concentration that his body could have. "Normally one or two pieces could have a small effect, but still..."

“Wait. It can’t be…” you mumble, slowly arriving to a conclusion.

And then your eyes lock with his.

His pupils darken.

You wouldn’t know who got close first, but your feet step towards him like metal to a magnet.

It's only when his lips grace yours that you move apart and face down. You're flustered, you want to cry and this whole thing is a mess. But then felix gently grabs your chin. He lays his forehead on yours, before planting a loving kiss on it.

"We're gonna do something, ok?” He mutters gently, stroking your face, and your body threatens to melt under his touch. He goes inside his bathroom and picks two random scrunchies near the sink, tenderly taking your hand and settling one on your wrist. Your hands interlink, matching hairtie bands working like a highlight on this situation.

Your glazed eyes lock with his again.

"As long as this is on your wrist, there's no consequences." He takes your hand and kisses the back of it, making your body shiver. "And after this is over, we'll… go back." There's a weird shadow in his eyes when he finishes that sentence.

As if he didn't want to go back to just friends.

"Felix, I don't know if I..." You hesitate, because for god's sake, you love him. And spending the night with him would not help dimming those feelings. What if it hurt more? What if...?

"Please." He's begging, his lips barely hovering over yours, so kissable, so tempting.

And then you break.

Because for a moment you were looking at him, but now you're not... instead, you lean forward and you plant a soft kiss on his lips. And it's all you both need to unravel.

You link your arms around his head and pull him further towards you, locking your lips with him as he moans, now muffled by how you fiercely kiss him, and he pushes your body against the wall, your towel slipping downwards with ease.

Felix's eyes grow imposibly dark with lust, and he grunts at the sight of your curves. Even if you close your eyes due to the intensity of all this, you can still feel him everywhere, the fresh smell of shampoo lingering on his soft hair.

He kisses the air out of your lungs. "I knew you were beautiful." He bites you lower lip, his hands traveling down your body, allowing you to halfly grasp how down bad he seems. "I told you so."

And you can't fathom the fact that he can still tease you in situation like this, but your whole mind is dizzy, there is lava running through your body where Felix touches, and you can't help but moan at his words.

"F-felix." You whimper, only after he starts peppering kisses to your cheeks, your neck, and its when you feel he's slowly kneeling on the floor for you that your hands travel to the back of his head.

"F-fuck, darling." Felix pants heavily. "That sound." His kisses on your belly and thighs start to leave red marks behind. "It's going to kill me."

He’s crazy. And you’re crazy too, because even when his mouth is deep between your legs, his tongue running between your folds, and only loud, almost desperate moans echo around the room.

Fingers tickle up the back of your thighs, his hands hungrily pulling you to him, as he eats you out like he’s been craving for you for ages.

You’re a wreck. A writhing, moaning, shaking wreck, and you can only close your eyes tught and lean into the wall behind you for support, because if not, your legs would definetly give out.

Your hands sink into Felix’s hair for something to hold on to, and a satisfied groan rumbles in his throat, the butterflies on your stomach turning to beasts.

One of his hands moves from your legs, and you flutter your eyes open, finding his gorgeous face staring at you, your arousal all over his lips and chin. His beatiful brown eyes are locked into yours, watching you closely as he slides a finger inside.

It’s game over for you when he goes back with his mouth, your hands tugging harder at his hair as you whimper. “Felix…!”

You can’t even form the second sentece as you cum, everything tingling and throbbing when you moan loudly, pleasure and heat flooding your entire body.

Felix removes his finger and mouth, leaning back so he can look at you properly, wearing the most drunk and fucked-out expression you’ve ever seen as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, not once breaking eye contact.

Before either of you can even say anything, he stands back up again and kisses you. It’s not fierce or has any of the urgent feeling that it had last time, instead, it feels like a soft crash, messy, a kiss that allows you to taste yourself on him.

He turns the both of you and you find the bed sooner than expected, falling on top of him.

It’s before he can do anything that your hands travel under his sweatpants, and he trembles under your touch.

“Oh, darling...” Felix whimpers, melting to putty in your hands, both figurative and literally. “Y-yes, just like that.” He knows that you’ve ruined him for good, forgetting about the scrunchie on his wrist.

And you forget about it too, sinking him deep in your mouth.

It’s only when he starts tetiching and writhing that he stops you, and in that moment, your body conects back to your mind. You’ve never gone this far before, not with anyone.

“Felix.” You mutter, your voice hoarse. “I’ve… never… you know.”

His eyes grow wide.

“You’ve never had sex before?”

He’s not shaming you for it. He’s confused, because he had been jealous over your boyfriends who he thought got to have you, and he’s growing more aroused, because a small voice in his head is telling him that he can be your first.

“N-no…” he coos at you, kissing you softly.

But you know there’s no one you could trust with this more than him.

“Let me show you what you’ve been missing out on,” and your breathing turns even heavier. “Let me treat you like the princess you are.”

He takes out a condom from his drawer, swiftly rolling it down his length.

Felix kisses your cheeks, helping to ease the tension. Your hands link together, and even if you still have the scrunchie on your wrist, none of you realize that Felix’s scrunchie is no longer on his wrists, but had fallen down to the floor.

“It can hurt a little. But I’m here. It’ll be ok, darling.”

You nod, kissing him softly.

[🔸☆🌆☆🔸]

You can’t help but feel shy when he cleans you up.

It’s slightly awkward, because none of you know how whatever you were was going to work now.

You would never be able to forget this.

He sinks back into bed, his hand laying on your waist, and with a huff, his breathing settles, calming down.

You eyes are locked on his gorgeous face, and now that you’ve kissed him, you can’t help but peck him softly again.

The scrunchie in your wrist bothers you, and you throw it away.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, your hand traveling to his cheek, stroking it. “I love you.”

But his eyes flutter open, and he grins like a fool at you, launching his body back over yours.

He’s giggling like a madman, peppering kisses all over your face.

“Felix!” His hair tickles you, and you start to laugh too.

He stops, pinning your arms to the sides of your face, and kisses you lovingly.

“I love you too.”

It’s only after you both wake up, afterglow clear on both of your faces that when Minho and Jisung come back from the younger’s place, his eyes grow wide at both of you.

“You guys took what?!!”

~Kats, who now fears someone will find out that she googled how aphrodisiac chocolate works.

[cozage]

Congrats on 2k!!!!

For the request I was wondering if you could do the ASL boys confessing to their childhood friend that they've had a crush on:) and if it's not too much could you add shanks as well?? It's okay if not!

I love your writing it's the best just make sure you're taking care of yourself!! <3

A/N: Some of these are kind of subtle, but I think subtle is their way of confessing after that long :)  Characters: gn reader x Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Shanks CW: Marineford spoilers Total word count: 873

From Friends to Lovers

Ace

“She looks like your type,” you mumbled, nudging Ace. A girl at the end of the bar had been eyeing him all night. 

“And how do you know my type?” Ace asked, raising his eyebrow at you. He was slurring his words just slightly; enough for you to know he was drunk.

“Please. We’ve been friends forever, and we’ve sailed together for two years. I know what kind of girls you go for.” You laughed, pushing down the jealousy that churned in your stomach. 

“You must not,” Ace said, leaning his head against you. "I'll stay right where I am."

“Go talk to her,” you urged. “It’s not doing you any good being by my side.”

He frowned at you. “What do you mean? I’m already sitting next to the hottest person in the bar.”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove. 

“I’m serious.” He had a newfound urgency in his voice. “You’re the only one for me. You’ve always been the only one for me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. There was no way he could be serious right now. He was drunk and stupid. 

He saw the bewilderment on your face and gave you a goofy grin. “Are you just now realizing I’m head over heels for you?! I thought I had made that obvious from day one!”

Sabo

You stared at the man before you, unsure how to react. He looked like Sabo. He definitely acted like Sabo. Even his name was Sabo. But it had to be a coincidence. 

“No,” you said. “Sabo died. Sabo died a long time ago.”

“There was this one winter day where we went sledding,” he said. “We raced Ace and Luffy down the hill a hundred times. They kept trying to beat us, but they never could. And then Dadan made us go inside and gave us hot chocolate and let us all sleep together in one big bed that night because it was so cold. I said it was the best day ever because we got to spend it together.”

Tears filled your eyes as he spoke. “You died,” you whispered again. 

You were talking to a ghost. You were afraid any moment you’d wake up and be left alone again. Just like when he had died. Just like when Ace had died, and Luffy had disappeared.

“I lost my memories from the head injury and was taken in by the Revolutionary Army. I only remembered after I saw the headlines about…” 

“Ace,” you whispered, tears spilling over. It still hurt to think about. 

“I’ll never leave you again,” he promised. “Come back with me to the Revolutionary Army. We’ll keep you safe. I want to hear about everything.”

“Sabo-”

“Please,” he begged. “I know I just remembered you, but my heart has ached every moment we’ve been apart. I just found you again and I’m starting to feel whole. Please-please don’t leave yet.”

Luffy

“Heeeeeeyyyyyyy!!!!” Luffys voice rang out from above you, and you instinctually braced yourself. 

He slammed into you, sending the both of you falling to the ground. You screamed out in glee as rubber arms wrapped around you, holding you tight. 

“It’s been a while, Luffy!” 

“I can’t believe it’s really you!” He shouted. “What are you doing here?”

“This is my home, idiot!” You laughed, trying to squirm out from under him. 

Moving away from his grip was proving to be quite difficult though, considering Luffy’s body weight was on top of you, his arms still tightly around you to prevent you from moving. 

“Your home was Windmill Village. I’ve missed you since you left.” 

Tears filled your eyes, and you suddenly enjoyed his closeness “I missed you too, Luffy.”

“Sail with me and my crew,” he said, pulling away slightly to look in your eyes, begging you with his big, dark eyes. “I want you to join me.”

You raised your eyebrow. “I have a life here, Luffy. I can’t-“

“Make a life with me!” He whined. “Come on!!”

“You still want to be King of the Pirates?” 

“I can only do it with you by my side.”

Shanks

A red-haired man sat down next to you in the bar, glancing your way. 

“Come here often?” he asked, sliding your favorite beer over to you. 

“Only in town for the week.” A smile danced across your lips. “My pain in the ass captain has us on a tight schedule.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his jolly laugh, the room brightening as his voice echoed through it. 

“He sounds like tough work,” Shanks said, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“He is!” You took a long drink of your beer. “I’ve been sailing with him my whole life, I think I would know.”

He smirked. “And you’re not tired of him yet?”

“Nah,” you chuckled. “I could never get tired of you.”

Your words caught up with your brain, and your cheeks turned a deep pink at the realization of what you had said. 

“Good, because I’ll never get tired of you either. ” Shanks gave you a softy, gentle smile and cupped your cheek with his hand. “So you’re stuck with me for the rest of time, okay? You’re all mine.”

“Of course, Captain.”

[theambitiouswoman]

Best foods for gut health 🌿🥥🥕

- Kimchi

- Sauerkraut

- Bone Broth

- Kefir

- Fibers (Fruits/Chia/Flax)

- Turmeric

- Peppermint

- Clove

- Pomegranate

- All Types of Berries

- Dark Chocolate

- Coconut Oil

- Eggs

- Beef

- Liver

- Wild Game

- Citrus Fruits

- Blueberries

- Seafood

- Oysters

- Cacao

- Aloe Vera

- Colostrum

- Cow Gelatin

- Fermented Foods

- Garlic

- Ginger

- L-Glutamine

- Liquorice Root

- Natural Yoghurt

- Prebiotics

- Probiotics

- Raw Carrots

[sweetiecutie]

Hi!!!!!!!!! I absolutely adore your underbed monster! Simon fics! I was wondering if you could write another one with more fluff? Just domestic stuff, like him curling around the reader while they sleep or something like that. Just him being a sweet, happy little housecat, I guess. Anyway, I love all your stuff! You're amazing! Thank you!

part 1 || part 2 || part 4

Domestic hc’s about underbed monster!Simon

Underbed monster! Simon gives off big fat moody cat vibes. He doesn’t like it when you try to initiate any contact in the very beginning, hissing surly whenever you peeked underneath your bed to check up on him or ignoring you blatantly when you tried talking to him. You’re his first friendly human as well, it’s just against Simon’s nature to be anything but hostile and mean to people (he’s a sleep demon after all), but he’s trying his best.

The first actual improvement in your “relationship” was when you pushed a few chocolate candies under your bed - “here, maybe you’ll like them”. Simon didn’t react to that in any way, slumbering quietly underneath the mattress, not acknowledging you in any way. So you just shrugged, going back to minding your own business. As you woke up next morning, the sweetest dreams following you throughout the whole night, shiny candy wrappers scattered on the floor caught your attention, two wide red eyes staring at you from within the darkness as you peeked under your bed to check on your not so little monster.

If underbed monster! Simon feels like you’re not giving him enough attention creature, as a brat that he is, will give you some trouble, letting you know that he is not pleased with how you treat him (he literally was torturing you with horrifying nightmares the first few weeks after you moved in). He’ll hide your stuff so that you’ll have to plea and sweet talk with him to give it back, or even push your favourite mug with still hot tea over the edge of your working desk, smashing pretty ceramic and spilling aromatic infusion all over the place. Is it a sign clear enough for you to stop your silly typing on your laptop and coddle your monster for a bit?

But the more you get to know each other - the clingier Simon gets. Curling himself around your calfs while you work on your laptop, or acting as your backpack while you cook, causing you to grumble about his additional weight hurting your back. If underbed monster feels good enough, he may even fetch some stuff for you, but you better thank him profusely and praise him for his attentiveness - otherwise he’d get grumpy and may give you some shit again.

So, underbed monster! Simon is sort of your pet at this point - a huge, terrifying, dangerous pet. But he will hide his deadly tentacles for a few minutes and show off his tummy for some rubs once you’re back home from work, carrying a fresh pack of sweets for him<3

Likes, regblogs and comments are highly appreciated, give writers some love! Requests are open - send me some silly stuff<3

[fazedlight]

Bake

“I left cookies in the kitchen,” Nia said, walking into the main room of the Tower. Lena and Alex - who had been lounging on the couches - turned towards her. “Kara was in there, you guys may want to get some before she finishes them.”

“What type of cookies?” Alex said.

“Chocolate chip,” Nia said. “I was keeping it simple, trying out a new type of flour.”

“What type of flour?” Lena asked.

“Walnut,” Nia said, “It adds a bit of savory fla-”

But Nia cut herself off, noticing Alex half-jumping off the couch. “Walnuts?” Alex said, “Oh shit-”

Nia turned as Alex ran past her, glancing back to Lena who seemed just as confused as she was. The two followed Alex to the kitchen. “Hey Kara, don’t eat tho- Kara?”

The three entered the kitchen - but Kara wasn’t in it. The pile of cookies sat undisturbed, aside from three or so clearly missing from the top of the pile. “Oh no,” Alex said.

“What is it?” Nia asked worriedly. “Is she allergic?”

“No, it-”

“Wait,” Lena said, quieting the other two as she listened. 

Slowly, she tilted her head up to the ceiling.

There Kara was, floating upside-down, hands clasped over her mouth in a failed attempt to stifle her laughter. “You should’ve seen the looks on your faces!” she exclaimed, her speech a touch slurred as Alex placed her palm to her forehead.

--- “So she’s… drunk,” Lena said, sparing a glance to her best friend before looking for traffic on the dark street.

“More like high,” Alex said.

“I am so sorry,” Nia said, “I’ll try the pecan flour next time.”

The three struggled to shuffle Kara towards Lena’s condo - the closest place she could stay. Power dampeners adorned her wrists as she giggled hysterically, the trio exasperated as they nudged her across another street. “How long will it take to wear off?” Lena asked.

“She should be fine by morning,” Alex grumbled. “Thanks for taking her.”

“LOOK at the MOON!” Kara said, before bursting into laughter.

---

Luckily, Kara was docile for someone high on walnuts. 

The only incident had been the blonde giggling like mad over the lamps fixed to Lena’s ceiling, only to pout that she couldn’t float up to them. But Lena promised her that she’d be allowed to in the morning, which seemed to soothe Kara, and they both prepared for bed.

The kryptonian hadn’t seemed to mind the suggestion that they sleep in the same bed, for which Lena was grateful, not wanting to spend a night on the couch. Lena tried to ignore the hammering of her heart as she went about her normal routine, washing her face and brushing her teeth as Kara watched her with careful, warm eyes. “I wish you saw yourself how I see you,” Kara said quietly, her words still a bit slurred as Lena slipped into bed.

Lena sighed, curling up on the bed next to the blonde, pulling her blanket over their bodies. If her breath hitched with Kara’s warmth, Kara didn’t notice. “How do you see me?” Lena responded.

“Strong. Beautiful. Always trying to do the right thing,” Kara murmured sleepily, arms starting to wrap around Lena’s body as she nuzzled into her neck. “I really want to kiss you.”

Lena’s heart skipped a beat. Kiss me?

“Maybe someday I’ll tell you,” Kara breathed into her neck, before letting herself fall back slightly to sink into the bed, her eyes closing as she relaxed her grip, “That would be nice.”

Lena’s mind scrambled for what to say, and then she heard the kryptonian softly snoring.

---

Coffee.

Lena opened her bleary eyes, smelling the pleasant aroma of espresso. She noted the empty space in her bed, before throwing her blankets off, shuffling to her kitchen to find a pile of Irish scones and a very sheepish kryptonian. “Sorry for last night,” Kara said.

Lena could feel a flush creep on her cheeks as she took the coffee Kara offered across the table. “How much do you remember?” she asked.

“Almost none of it,” Kara confessed. “I just know I get really loopy on walnuts.”

Lena’s heart was already hammering as she sipped her drink, and she knew that was confusing to Kara. For a moment, she considered letting the whole thing go, but… dammit, I need answers. “Do you want to kiss me?” Lena asked.

Kara blinked back. “Is that… an offer?”

“No,” Lena said. “Well, yes?

“Um,” Kara said, shifting on her feet. “Which is it?”

“Yes,” Lena said firmly.

“Oh.”

Kara stared for a moment as Lena’s heart continued hammering in her chest, before finally stepping forward, cautiously making her way towards Lena as though she couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Lena swallowed nervously as Kara’s hand softly cupped her face. “So I did say something last night,” Kara murmured.

“I’m glad you did,” Lena murmured, a little breathless as Kara shyly smiled back.

Lena tilted her head, feeling the warmth of Kara’s body as she pressed in, feeling the tingling of breath against her lips. Lena wrapped her arms around Kara’s waist as Kara leaned closer.

And there was one last thought - thank god for walnuts - before Lena learned the taste of Kara’s lips.