#i had watched this scene a million times but had *never* noticed that before!!

[marshmallowgoop]

[alastor-simp]

Never Been Kissed💋 - Alastor x Female Reader

❥Summary: It gets revealed to everyone that you have never been kissed before ever, in your previous life and afterlife, and a certain deer demon takes interest in that

❥Tags: Alastor x Female Reader, Alastor x Reader, Never Been Kissed, First Kiss, Hazbin Hotel Fanfiction, Angel Is Your Bestie, Hint of Spice, Kissing, Al Becomes A Kissing Maniac

❥Notes: I love First Kiss stories so I wanted to do one with Alastor. Enjoy:) (Fanart credit to unakura on Twitter)

"That guy is smoking hot!! Denise is def gonna choose him." Angel said, as he was leaning against the pillow, face a bit flushed from the guys hotness. "Nah, he's too much of a tool. Besides Ray is a much better choice and he's much hotter." You argued back against Angel's comment. The both of you were watching a hell's version of a dating show, set in the Lust Ring of Hell. It was similar to the shows on Earth, just with demons and more sluttier plot. Everyone else was doing their own thing, Charlie and Vaggie were deciding what the next redemption lesson was, Sir Pentious and Niffty were baking in the kitchen, Husk was cleaning the bar glasses, and Alastor was sitting across from the both of you, reading his daily newspaper, chair facing a bit away from the TV due to his dislike of it.

The show continued on, the two pairs becoming a couple, which eventually lead to a hot make out session. Flustered, you turned your head away, raising your hand above your eyes to cover the scene in front of you. Angel took quick notice of your reaction, bolting out in laughter. "HAHA what's the matter with ya? Can't handle a little kissy kiss scene?" You shook your head no at his question, causing him to laugh more. "Seriously toots, you act like you never kissed before." Angel continued to laugh, his feet kicking up in the air. Lowering your hand, your face flushed red, super embarrassed. "I haven't." Unbeknownst to you, Alastors ears flicked a bit at what you said, eyes leaving the paper to gaze at you. Angel couldn't fully make out what you said because of his laughter, but he soon stopped, wiping the tears from his eyes. "What you say toots? I didn't catch that." Angel asked, inching closer towards you. Fingers twirling your hair, you slowly responded back to Angel, "I have never been kissed."

"WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?" Angels loud response, alerted the residents around him, half of them running into the lobby to see what was going on. Angel hands had grabbed your shoulders, shaking you like a maniac. "YOU'RE TELLING ME IN THE TIME YOU HAVE BEEN ALIVE AND IN HELL, NO HANDSOME SCHMUCK HAS EVER KISSED YOU BEFORE?!" Angel had fully stopped shaking you, which you were thankful for since you started to feel a bit sick. "No." The others had walked closer to where you were on the couch, except Al as he was still sitting on the chair, but his newspaper was closed, watching the scene in front of him with curious eyes. "OH MY SATAN!! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! Angel's body began to lean against the couch, hands covering his eyes in disbelief.

Vaggie had slowly made her away over, a bit annoyed at Angel's reaction. "Hey, there's no need to get so work about a stupid kiss. Plenty of people have never been kissed before." Angel removed his hands from his face, glaring a bit at Vaggie. "That's not why I'm shocked. I'm shocked that someone hasn't taken one look at my best friend and thought "I wanna smooch them." Feels like a crime." Niffty, being her quick self, had run up on the couch, hands placed on your cheeks, crazed eye starring at you. "How come you never gotten kissed before? Saving yourself for the ultimate bad boy? It felt like a million eyes were watching you right now, making you extremely shy - your body wanting to escape from this awkward situation. "Look I- I don't um...."

Sensing your discomfort, Charlie had walked over, grabbing Niffty softly, setting her down on the floor. "Okayyyyyy lets change the subject alright. I have a brand new idea for all of us to try, now if you will all follow me." You were grateful to Charlie that she was trying to stir the whole topic to something else. Angel appeared apologetic, patting your head, mouthing an apology, before he got up, walking over to join Charlie and the others. You, however, weren't in the mood to join them, deciding it be better to just go to your room. As you got up and walked away, you didn't notice the crimson glowing eyes watching you, as you began to head up to your room.

***Your Bedroom***

Heaving a sigh, you carried yourself over to the bed, flopping on to it, face hitting the soft pillow. Grabbing the covers, you pulled them over yourself, wanting to hide from the world. The whole lobby situation was still playing in your mind, making you groan. Hand reaching for your other pillow, you placed it against you, hugging it tightly. You decided it be better to just sleep off what just happened, placing your face further into the pillow you were hugging, closing your eyes. A soft tapping sensation was hitting your head, but you chose to ignore it. The sensation continued, which caused you to open your eyes. Moving the cover, your eyes peaked out to see Alastor, sitting on your bed, smiling down at you. "Ahh, she finally reveals herself! Hello, my dear!" He said with astounding enthusiasm, making you groan more. "Leave me alone Alastor please." The cover returned to your head, blocking your face from Alastor again. "Now now, don't hide yourself away from me. I merely wanted to spark up a conversation with you." His clawed hand gripped at your cover, pulling it away from you, revealing yourself to him again.

Debating whether to grab the sheet again, you chose not to, unless you wanted to anger him. Slowly getting up, you looked at Al, wearing an annoyed expression. "Okay, what do you want to talk about?" Widening his smile, Alastor leaned on his side on the bed, hand placed against his cheek, "From what the effeminate spider yelled out in the lobby, you have never been kissed before, correct?" Your eyes widen at him. Seriously? He was bringing this up again?! Heaving a sigh, you nodded your head, cheeks becoming aflamed. The embarrassment radiating off of you, brought massive satisfaction to him, his smile stretching to the point it could break his face. "I don't indulge in topics of conversation like this, but this one had peaked my curiosity. So enlighten me, my dear, why haven't you kissed anyone?"

"He's messing with me", was your first thought when he asked you this, but reading his expression more closely, you realized he was being serious with his question. Turning away, hands fiddling together, you tried to answer him, "I don't have a clear answer for that. I guess what Niffty said is kinda true. Waiting for the right person...I guess." Silence filled the air after you gave your answer, only thing you could hear was the soft sounds of static from Al. "You were expecting the classic fairytale, finding your one true love kiss, I presume? His tone mocked you, making you a bit angry that he was finding amusement in this. "Yeah that's exactly it, now that I have answered your question, can you please leave me alone?" Grabbing the cover that Alastor had pulled away from you, covering your body and face, you fell on your side to the bed, facing away from him.

Static chuckling came from next to you, as you stayed under the covers, refusing to come out. "If it's something you desire, I will be willing to grant it." He spoke so calmly like he didn't just say the most shocking thing ever. Popping your head out of the cover, you craned your neck towards him, giving him an "Are you serious" look. "Yeah right. You're just joking with me." Laughing at what he said, you turned away, resuming to stay inside your blanket. A rush of wind could be heard next to you, and before you knew it, Alastor was inside the cover with you, body hovering above you, hands placed on the sides of the bed "Who's joking?" He spoke, no hint of static in his voice, as his crimson eyes gazed down at you, lips in a smirk. Jumping at his position being on top of you, your mouth became unable to form words. Was he serious? He wanted to kiss you? "Is it okay if I ask why?" You spoke softly at him, waiting to hear what he had to say.

Alastor appeared a bit put off by your question, for he himself, was a bit befuddled as to why he wanted to kiss you. His eyes gazed up, thinking hard about it. "I've roamed hell for many years, having no interest in acts of affection or romance. Many suitors often came my way, but I broke their hearts, or ate them HAHAHAHA!" His eyes flashed into dials for a second as his head went back from his uproar of laughter. Eyes continued to stare at him as he slowly calmed down from his laughing fit, face taking on a more serious tone, despite the smile still remaining on his face, “However! There were times I wondered what it would be like to take part in acts like this." The radio filter left his voice, as gloved fingers gripped your chin, thumb tracing your bottom lip, softly.

Your face was probably was red as his hair right now, as your brain was still trying to process what he was saying. Your eyes continued to stare up at Al, who continued to smile, eyes filled with softness, for once. "Is...are you comfortable doing this?" You quietly asked, palms feeling sweaty from how nervous you were. His head tilted with a crack, once again, confused by your question. "I'm worried that doing this is overstepping your boundaries. What if I am a bad kisser or have bad breath, what if I-" A boisterous laugh erupted from Al, shaking the bed, as the both of you were still covered in the tent-like blanket. "My sweet darling, there is no need to worry about trivial things like that. As for my boundaries, I am the one that is initiating this, so once again, no need to worry."

His wide smile had dropped into a gentle one, fingers still caressing your lip, before moving to your cheek. You bit your lips a bit, before opening them slowly, "Okay." Ears twitched at your answer, crimson eyes filled with a hint of desire plus hesitance, as he bent down a bit, face coming closer to yours. The beating of your heart was so loud, you could hear it in your ears, and you were certain Al could hear it too. The scent of his cologne was making you dizzy- mixed with hints of blood and graveyard dirt. Reflections were seen in both of your eyes, him seeing himself and you seeing yourself. His lips continued to move closer, inch by inch, until they were placed onto yours, soft almost like a butterfly had landed on it.

The glow from his eyes had vanished, closing them as he pushed a bit further into the kiss, making you gasp a bit. A few minutes has passed, as Alastor slowly pulled away, glowing eyes returning to admire you. You felt breathless, despite how tender the kiss was, it had you weak. “Did you enjoy it?” He asked, his lips distracting you, making you forget his question. “Huh? Um..yes…it…was…nice. How about you?” You ask as if out of breath, heart fluttering still. “Surprisingly pleasing.” He said matter-of-factly, but judging from his appearance, he looked more disheveled than you.

No one uttered a word after that, the both of you continuing to stare at each other. “May I do it again?” He whispered, causing goosebumps to form all over you. You nodded, answering his question. His lips returned again, this time with more passion. The gasp you let out allowed his tongue to enter, intensifying the kiss. The weight of his body was on you now, his chest against yours, feeling his racing heart. His teeth bit your lip slightly, drawing some blood, making him hum at the taste as his tongue continued to intertwine with yours. Moaning into the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his back, pulling him closer. The both of you broke the kiss, string of saliva appearing from both of your mouths. Heavy breaths could be heard, as glazed eyes stared down at you, ashen cheeks flushed. "Again." was said from him, lips returning back to you again, and again and again.

-END-

Sinners:

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@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,

@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,

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, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,

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@lillyisfreakyy , @alastorthirsty , @yukiinee ,

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, @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog , @twistedvanillacoffee

[calmcoldevening]

Hey hon, just read your Art x virgin HC. Although I kinda wanted to pick your brain on reader x confused inexperienced Virgin! Art…

Virgin!Art the clown x reader

Tw: smut, nsfw

Note: it's short but I tried. Show this guy real pleasure, babe

• Art got used to the fact that his human body was capable of feeling cold or in rare cases needing food, although his demonic abilities still made him immortal. But some other physiological issues remained incomprehensible to him.

• Art doesn't know how or why he left you alive and relatively unharmed, but your presence seemed almost bearable to him. He is used to the fact that you are often around, that you cook for him and from time to time blow his brains out with your discontent, like why he left traces of blood on the floor in your bathroom again.

• But it was okay, really okay. Art got used to it after a couple of weeks, accepting it as his new reality. At least you didn't scream once again and didn't try to turn him over to the police (he knew perfectly well that some boys in blue wouldn't stop him in any way, but he didn't want to shine once again before his next loud bloody "show")

• But sometimes he wondered why your body was different from his own. He's seen you change clothes or walk around the house in just a towel or underwear a hundred times, and he's seen women's bodies under his knife a million more times. And it really occupied his brain. The difference was obvious.

• Art saw some guys flirting with you in a bar a few times, and it pissed him off. You tried to laugh it off and try to get away from the guys, but they kept trying to touch you (of course, Art personally strangled them later). But he was interested in touching you as well. It looked strange, new to him.

• The first time he saw you naked, you never thought it would do anything to him. After all, you knew that Art wasn't really human, so you didn't expect any obvious reaction.

• But one day you came home pretty drunk and climbed up to Art with hugs. It was just awkward hugs on the couch and sloppy kisses. You sat on his lap with your arms around his neck and smeared his face paint with your grinning lips, whispering words like 'my handsome'. Art didn't expect any sensations. He had been in this situation before, and then he realized how stupid people can be under the influence of alcohol. But it felt different with you. He felt a strange burning sensation in his body, and his pants became uncomfortably tight under your warm thighs.

• Then he did not focus on it and the feeling quickly passed. But it came back later, when you weren't drunk anymore. He could just admire you for a long time or follow some female victim, unknowingly imagining you in her place. It made him very hard. His rapid breathing and heartbeat were driving him crazy, although he had long realized that his heart was almost dead in this body.

• But Art, surprisingly, liked the feeling. And the feeling of your weight in his arms was damn tempting.

• Although Art often thought about it, he did not know at all what it was called and why people felt it. That's why you were the one who initiated the whole thing.

• One dark evening, the two of you watched some kind of bloody horror movie that Art especially likes. Although he frowned and condemned the unreality of the bloody scenes with gestures. It is dark outside and heavy rain is dripping, pounding on the windows with force. Your hand gently took his gloved hand, tracing the rough cold knuckles. At first, he does not notice your touch, but gradually your hand moves higher and higher, gently wrapping around his neck. In one deft movement, you straddled his knees, pulling him closer to you by the neck. There's a sly smile on your face. Art's eyes widen in surprise, but he can't deny the anticipation growing in his chest, even though he didn't quite understand what you wanted from him.

• You gently move your hips back and forth, feeling the growing warmth under your body. Art didn't know that feeling. He seemed to be detached from his own body at the moment, but he was warm and pleasant. A strange tingling sensation in his body began to bother him a little. Your hands gently traced the fabric of his suit, your fingers gently glided over his makeup, sloppily smearing black lipstick. Art's hands instinctively rested on your hips, gently squeezing your flesh.

• His body was moving on its own. The strange tingling and growing heat were driving his brain crazy. The warmth of your soft thighs didn't help his frantic thoughts at all. The movie almost became background noise, all Art was focused on right now was you and the feelings you caused him.

• Art let out a soundless moan, feeling himself pressing against your body and feeling an almost painful pressure. But he frowned slightly, pressing your hips harder against his knees, and rolled his eyes for a moment. There was a momentary pleasant sensation through his body, which made his heart beat with renewed vigor, and his breathing quickened. God, you made him feel so good. He had never felt anything like this. His pants instantly got wet, pulling a satisfied chuckle out of you.

• "So fast sweet pie? Why don't we try again? 'm sure you'll like it more."

[testrella]

CRAZY RICH ASIANS…! G.SATORU X READER : PROLOGUE

𝜗𝜚 SYNOPSIS 𝜗𝜚

since the beginning of japan, the gojo clan has always been wealthy. the clan brought their money to rural japan and built from the bottom up, making them the landlords of half of japan.

gojo satoru, the heir to everything, finds himself in a difficult position as he fell for somebody who his family would never approve. yet, he cannot find himself to leave as you are the first girl who isn't interested in his family's wealth.

𝜗𝜚 | PROLOGUE

money.

sony corporation, mitsubishi corporation, nintendo co, sanrio co etc…

all these companies are based in japan and rack up billions in revenue every month. with money, comes power, and with power comes authority over everything.

and that was all satoru ever knew growing up.

“gojo satoru! how would i even begin to explain your state to your mother?!”

the first time satoru noticed his authority over people in the real world was when he was seven.

he was covered in mud, head to toe. any other day, he could’ve gotten away with it. but today was not those days.

the suit personally made for him that day was too tight. he believed if he took a walk outside, it’d stretch and fit to his liking. one thing led to another and his now ¥5790 suit was in ruins.

though he didn’t see an issue with the suit being covered in grimy wet dirt, and possibly worms. his mother gave him permission to go outside. but she knew that satoru, at age seven, would find a way to mess up his suit.

“how could you explain what to me?” the snake herself walked through satoru’s door.

satoru always believed his mother was a snake. not because her teeth could most certainly be filled with venom, or the fact she was twofaced. but because she lurks silently and waits for the right moment to wreak havoc.

before he could greet her, a loud, sharp smack was echoed in the room. almost like a wet towel was being thrown against the floor.

“how dare you let my child walk around looking like this?” her voice was strong and full of jurisdiction.

satoru watched the head maid get beaten to the floor. it was hit after hit. it was like a broken movie cd, and it replaying the worst scene.

“mom, please stop..” he spoke barely above a whisper. but somewhere within that sentence, he gained consciousness.

as he watched blood splattered across the room, he knew in that moment that he was the only one who could say something. everyone watched in terror as the young boy stood with unshaken bravery.

“mother, as future heir to the gojo clan, i-i command you to stop!!”

and she did. that was power.

and nobody in japan had any when standing next to gojo satoru.

taking care of kids full-time wasn’t something you had in mind. children are snotty, had sticky fingers and asked a million questions that have no answers.

your heart was set on journalism.

you wanted to be the next to have their big break with the most jaw dropping piece. but fate had other ideas for me.

“boys in the back, please be quiet. how many times do i have to ask all of you to not talk while someone’s presenting??” a frustrated sigh escaped your lips as they continued their banter at the kid in front of the class.

now you find yourself in a secondary classroom, asking teenagers to be quite for the millionth time.

“miss. l/n,” your head turned to the direction of the child, “may i use the restroom? it’s an emergency.”

you knew him well enough that he was trying to escape from presenting his project next. the boy was quiet and kept to himself. the only time he would ever speak was to use the restroom, or to greet you in the morning.

“nice try, you can go after you present. come on up fushiguro, you’re next.” you gave him an encouraging smile as his posture slumped.

you rested your arms on your desk and watched the boy slowly walk up to the front. he gave you one last ‘do i have to?’ look before speaking to his peers.

once again, the group of boys snickered and made rude remarks towards him.

“look at emo boy up there. his hair is covering his entire face!”

“i bet you could punch him, and he wouldn’t see it coming.”

before you could silence them, your student spoke up.

“why don’t you come up and find out then?”

the class starts echoing ‘ooouuu’ at his comeback. as smart as it was, it was highly inappropriate. sighing, you stand up from your chair “okay, settle down everyo-“

“OH SO ITS LIKE THAT EMO BOY?!”

one of the boys from the back stands up so aggressively that it knocks down the desk in front of him.

“yeah, it’s like that.” fushiguro states with the straightest face anybody could have. he was unphased by the other’s outburst. as if he had his share of tantrums from others.

“you’re gonna let him talk to you like that? beat his ass!” one kid blurted.

“get his ass! we got you from right here…” another said while muttering the last sentence.

and of course, with teaching, you get to see your fair share of fights. although nothing could’ve prepared for you to see a five v one.

..and nothing, absolutely NOTHING could’ve prepared you to watch the quiet kid in your class demolish all five boys before being separated.

“megumi fushiguro! i will be calling your father, and he WILL be having a meeting with miss. l/n and myself.” declared the head of the school.

you watched awkwardly as he slumped down into his chair, muttering a quiet ‘he’s not my father’ and wiping the dry blood on his face. you wanted to speak up but the tension in office was too thick.

“i’ll- um,” both the dean and megumi look at you, the first to break the silence. “i’ll get fushiguro some ice and bandages. i’ll be back before his father-“

“he’s not my dad!”

“oh! his um, his guardian. i’ll be back before his guardian arrives.” you sigh realizing that any errands you’ve had before would have to be rescheduled.

the cold, tingling feelings lingers on both hands as you alternate the ice bag on your hands. your eyes are glued to the floor as you have today's events replay in your head.

from your lack of situational awareness, you bump into a wall. or at least what you thought was a wall. you look up and see a white haired male towering over you.

“woah there little lady, you okay? seems like we’re both in a hurry today.”

𝜗𝜚 | CHAPTER ONE : fight! fight! fight!

tag list: @roscpctals99 @poeticlovefanpage @mistyheart @sureconfused @chilichopsticks @lightshowerrr @faeryminnyx @0001010dog @myabae @nivi @therealestpussyeater @kolpvii @sleepykittycx @browrm @tojisworm-5 @universallystrangeravenue @catobsessedlady @shivzypuff @nico707 @invisible-mori @peqch-pie @dilflover-3 @lovelivelaygh1324 @mo0sin @gojoracle @foliea @honoredalone @goldenglow149 @portgas459ace @sealsu @misorastars @hyori2 @selysixn

[lordprettyflackotara]

hitchhiker || chapter two || the proxies

tw: mentions of murder, brief descriptions of gore

a/n: i’ve gotten a lot of love for this series and i just wanted to say thank you!! as a tribute of my appreciation i present a question: would you guys prefer this story on another platform ADDITIONAL to tumblr? i’ve gotten a few ask. i’m not familiar with ao3 but id like to learn if yall want it :)<3

<— chapter one

You had Toby absolutely mesmerized.

He swallowed nervously as he sat beside you in the diner’s booth. Brian had specifically requested the booth farthest away from everyone else. He sought out privacy, even when you curiously arched an eyebrow when he informed the waitress of his request.

Toby couldn’t help but admire your figure, your curves begging to be acknowledged in that slimming white dress of yours. The sight borderline made his mouth water. Toby shifted uncomfortably in his seat, refraining from anxiously chewing on the inside of his mouth. This would be the first time in years he would be eating in public. Usually he was never concerned with his appearance. That was until he met you.

Now he was slouched in a booth at a diner, a large bandage tightly secured to the decaying side of his face. You were kind enough to not stare, Toby only having noticed your eyes flickering to it once. You hadn’t question his ghoul gray skin or bandage. You didn’t stare at him like he was a freak. You just carried on the conversation like he was a normal person like Tim and Brian. He glanced over at Tim and Brian, his leg bouncing up and down under the table.

The four of you had been served glasses of water, the waitress apologizing and ushering to a different table. You began to unwrap a straw, before putting it into your glass.

“So, what do you guys do for work?”

The question almost made Brian spit out his drink. Tim elbowed his partner. “We’re private consultants,” He replied casually. You sipped your water, grabbing the lemon off of the rim. “Private consultants for what?” You asked, squeezing the juice into your water. Toby watched Brian and Tim carefully, both of them tongue tied. “K-kind of like detective-es. Just without the license,” Toby answered. He hoped you hadn’t noticed how shaky his hand was as he grabbed his glass. He didn’t bother with a straw, carelessly gulping down the water.

“Detectives? Thats nice. Hired by a private client I assume? One that’s behind the scenes,” You suggest. Toby exchanged looks with Tim, giving him a slight nod to suggest they go along with your explanation. “Yeah victims families sometimes aren’t satisfied with the police’s answer for disappearances or murders. They hire people like us to do some of our own investigating,” Tim replied. He hadn’t touched his water. The waitress returned, a small notebook in hand.

“What will you all have to drink?”

Tim gestured for you to go first.

“I’ll have a coke, thank you.”

You looked over at Toby, whose leg was bouncing under the table at a million miles per hour.

“Dr Pepper i-if you have it.”

The waitress gave a confirming nod, looking over at Brian.

“I’ll just stick with water.”

She nodded, her gaze landing on Tim.

“I’ll just have black coffee, thanks.”

Once she left, you were eager to resume the conversation. “Must be exciting work, traveling all of the time. I assume it’s all paid right? Like traveling fees and food,” You say. Toby couldn’t help but feel nervous around you, the brunette forcing himself to join the conversation. “Y-yeah it’s p-pretty nice,” He replied. He felt his neck begin to twitch, Brian’s eyes shooting daggers at him across the table. “You guys should meet my best friend Nova. She just became the lead detective around here,” You suggested. Tim exchanged glances with Brian. Toby clutched his cup, practically reading their thoughts.

They finally had justification for keeping you around.

The waitress came back, setting the drinks on the table. She clicked her pen as she brought out her notepad from the apron, the sound making Toby’s left arm twitch. “What will you have?” She asked you. You glanced at the menu, clearing your throat. Oddly enough it felt weird having all three of their eyes on you, watching you intently. “I’ll have the barbecue burger with fries, thanks,” You tell her. She took the menu from your hands, looking over at Toby. “I’ll have the same but with two burgers instead of one,” Toby said, giving her a small smile. The waitresses eyebrows raised, but she scribbled it onto her notepad without comment.

Her eyes landed on Brian, who hadn’t glanced at the menu. “I’ll take a veggie burger with no tomato, thank you,” He said simply, handing the waitress the menu. She turned to Tim, who was quick to dismiss her. “Just coffee for me,” He told her. Your eyebrows furrowed as the waitress walked away. You wanted to questions Tim’s denial of food, Toby quick to cut you off. It was far too risky to have you aware of his crippling insomnia. “So what d-do you do for wor-rk?” He asked you. You grinned shyly, hoping the heat that was dashing across your cheeks wasn’t visible. It was.

“It’s a bit silly but I want to be an actress. I’ve always dreamed of being up on the big screen,” You admitted, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Tim sipped his coffee, listening intently. “For now though I work at Olive Garden. Just until I get my big break,” You finished. Toby stared at you in awe. He thought you deserved to be in every movie ever. Including the x rated ones. “You’ll be in Hollywood in no tim-me,” Toby told you, flashing you a big smile. His words provided you relief, Brian’s judgment written across his face. You could tell he didn’t want to be there. You returned Toby’s smile before turning back to Tim.

You had said something, Toby’s sight able to see your lips moving. But his hearing went dull, the diners lights flickering. He set his cup down on the table, trying to count his breathes. One. Two. Inhale. Exhale. This wasn’t real, right? It couldn’t be real. The Operator wouldn’t sought them out here, in such a public place. Right? His gaze landed past Brian, past the heads of the few other people left in the diner. Clear as day in the window, Toby saw a face. Or better said, a mask. He blinked and his breath became shallow as he took in the observers appearance.

Mangled jet black hair, now grown out past her shoulders. A snow white mask with black eyes stared back at Toby through the window, her eyes ominously hidden. Toby would recognize the faded white walmart jacket from anywhere.

What the fuck was Kate doing here?

Toby’s attention came back to the table as the waitress arrived, setting their food in front of them. He looked back at the window, Kate now gone. “You good Tob?” You asked. The brunette turned to look at you, silently shocked you cared. He nodded, giving you a weak smile. “F-fine just thought I saw something,” He replied. Toby shot Brian and Tim a look, one both of them were oblivious to. Did they not see the flickering lights? Brian was too invested in his food, while Tim’s attention was completely focused on you. Toby quietly picked up his burger, taking a bite. Man, you had good taste.

Toby was aware he was schizophrenic. He knew that when his mind went a little too into overdrive he’d see things that weren’t there. Over the years he had grown accustomed to it, making significant progress from his first year with the Operator. Sometimes he’d see his parents or Lyra. If he was in a bad episode he’d even be able to convince himself he was touching Lyra. Like she was really there. He hadn’t seen Lyra or his parents in years. Nor had he seen Kate in at least a year.

Kate the Chaser was a fellow proxy, who spent most of her missions alone. She was quiet and mysterious, never saying too much. As you continued to talk to Tim and Brian, Toby’s mind began to wander. Why was she here? He didn’t show any other signs of being in an episode. The colors in the diner were the same, no strange voices were whispering in his ears. Toby took another bite of his burger, his mind continuing to rack itself for an answer. Kate only came around for one of two reasons. 1. She was doing a favor for one of the Operators brothers or 2. She was there to check on the status of a mission. If it was option two, the three of them were fucked.

“What do you think Toby?” You asked. Your sweet voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry what?” He asked meekly. You pointed at his burger. “About the burger? It’s my favorite. They always have apple bacon,” You say. You were so peacefully oblivious, Toby’s scrambled mind feeling like it was glitching. “Very good, love b-barbecue,” He answered. He gave you a weak smile, dipping a fry into some ketchup. “So what’s your family like? They live out here as well?” Brian asked. Toby couldn’t help but feel unsettled, like they were being watched. Out of the three of them Toby was the least prone to excessive paranoia, but right now he felt like it was all too real.

“No I moved away from home. Originally I wanted to go to New York but I ended up here along the way. It’s the closest I can afford to the big city. Besides it’s not too far away,” You say, shrugging. Considering they were in Ohio, Toby concluded this to not be true. However you seemed to be trying to play off your own insecurities and Toby was determined to play along. “Where are you guys from?” You asked, sipping your coke. The lights in the diner flickered again. Toby’s eyes narrowed. “Alabama, nothing special,” Tim answered, earning a kick from Brian under the table. You took another bit of your burger, the sound of faint static flooding your eardrums. Your new friends didn’t seem to hear it, the three of them unnerved.

You decided to try to ignore it, a slight pounding sensation ensuing in your temple. You had no idea the other three heard it as well, four hundred times worse. Toby watched Tim’s head begin to pound, his adam’s apple swallowing as he tried to endure the headache. His gaze flickered over to Brian, his head twitching to the left. “Oh shit,” Toby muttered, dropping his fry. He grabbed the nearby steak knife, watching as Masky and Hoodie nonchalantly began to front. You looked over at Toby, who was shaking as he clutched the black handle of the knife. He was ready to defend your life with his own and a shitty steak knife.

“Tob? You alright?” You asked, eyes widening at the sight of the knife. Toby watched Masky and Hoodie carefully, waiting for them to attack. It was getting late, the four of them the only ones left in the diner. It wouldn’t be hard to kill you and the only waitress left. But you were so kind. So pleasant to be around. Plus, you smelled good. Masky frowned at the sight of you. If he could’ve had it his way he would’ve followed you home, disposing your body in a rancid dumpster. But he knew his place, the Operators request of his presence coming first. Masky dug in his pocket, Toby’s gaze darkening. He placed a wad of cash on the table, sliding out of the booth. “We have something we have to take care of. Why don’t you walk her home Toby?” Masky suggested blandly. Hoodie followed suit, hands dug in his jeans as he trailed after Masky. Hoodie’s lips curled into a cocky smirk, shamelessly checking you out. The duo left the diner quickly, leaving you and Toby dumbfounded.

“Are they bipolar or something?” You asked. Toby released the knife, trying to ignore your bewildered expression. A flash of white ran across the window, Kate’s presence confirmed. “S-something like that-t. Let’s get you home,” Toby suggested nervously. He ushered you out of the diner, anxiously looking around. He couldn’t spot Masky or Hoodie anywhere, nor Kate or the Operator. He sighed in relief, the cold night wind brutal. “I live down this way,” You say, pointing to down town. You wanted to question Tim and Brian’s odd behavior, but ultimately decided against it. Toby walked beside you, the orange street lights illuminating the path. He tried to be quiet, trying to uncover what they did wrong in his mind.

The cold didn’t bother him, but his eyes flickered over to you. You were a shivering mess, goosebumps littering your smooth skin. “H-here. Might n-not smell the best,” He said quickly. He slid off his signature hoodie, handing it to you. “But you’ll be cold,” You pointed out. Toby shook his head. “I don’t get cold-d. Here,” He insisted. Hesitantly you accepted Toby’s hoodie, sliding it on. It smelled like dirt, cologne, and a metallic scent you couldn’t place. “Thank you Toby,” You say, giving him a grin. Toby thought back to the dismemberment of the body. He followed the usual routine. Depending on the victim there were two possible routines.

One being what they called mystery. Toby would extract the teeth, slicing fingerprints and toes off of the victim. Next he’d scoop out the eyes, before slicing out the tongue. After that he’d cut off the head. He’d distribute the fingertips, toes, teeth, eyes, and head to Masky and Hoodie. The three would divide them up evenly, before going their own ways for the night to discard of the evidence. Toby had an all too familiar lake he preferred to dispose his in. The alligators there were practically his friends by now.

The other method, one Toby named chop chop. Or chop for short. His axe skills were utilized, each leg and arm, and of course the head, cut apart limb from limb. This method was recommended when the victim had been attacked from the front. The more raw mushy organs on display, the more likely the wolves would get to the body before a human did. As for the body parts, the proxies had been using barrels full of acid. It was a grueling process, but they were able to bury them in the forest without a long drive to discard of them.

For detective Winston, they had opted to use route two. Chop was quicker. Of course they used chop, wanting to see you as quickly as possible. That’s when it finally hit Toby: Hoodie had slashed his throat. His chest cavity and organs were intact. He was a detective in the force for years. He had a chest tattoo. Thats why the Operator sent Kate. The body had been discovered and identified.

“I know this isn’t the best part of town but it’s all I can afford right now,” You say. Toby snapped out of his thoughts, turning his attention back to you. You had taken his silent pondering as judgment. “I’ve slept in trees before, i’m sure y-your apartment is l-lovel-ly,” Toby told you. You subtly began to walk closer to him, purple neon signs illuminating the rest of the pathway. “It’s not normal I know but i’ve always wanted a tattoo from that shop,” You told him, pointing at ‘Ray’s tattoos’. Toby examined the shop, his eyes scanning over the multiple people getting tatted. He made eye contact with what appeared to be a biker, his gaze returning to you.

“H-how about I go w-with you sometime? I d-don’t have one,” He admitted. You gave him a sheepish smile. “I have one but it’s kinda embarrassing,” You confessed. Toby chuckled, following you into your apartment building. “C-can’t be that bad,” Toby replied. He trailed behind you as you entered the elevator, clicking the button to the fourth floor. “Promise you won’t tell Tim and Brian?” You asked. Toby nodded, preparing himself to see whatever exposure of skin you were going to provide him. Instead you leaned close to him, whispering into his ear, “I have a tramp stamp.”

Toby felt a shiver of ecstasy run down his spine, soaking in the sensation of your hot breath. “O-oh wow,” He blushed. You giggled as the elevator doors opened, walking to your apartment. You stood in front of door 401, turning to Toby. “I really do like you guys you know. Despite their social awkwardness, it’s nice seeing some new faces around here,” You say. Toby could hardly get enough of your praise, his imagination now playing with the idea of your tramp stamp. “T-thank you. We like-e you too,” He said. You gave him a small smile. “I don’t think Brian likes me,” You told him honestly. Toby pretended to play dumb. “Pfft, B-Brian’s just a l-loner. He didn’t like m-me either at first,” He replied. Which, was technically true.

You bit your bottom lip, your eyes flickering to your apartment door. You grabbed your keys, unlocking it. You were about to invite Toby in, the invitation on your lips. Just as you opened your mouth, Nova appeared in front of you. You jumped in surprise. “Nova? Holy shit what are you doing here?” You questioned. You had given Nova your key ages ago for emergencies. There she stood in her pajamas, a file in hand. Toby frowned at the sight of Nova. Why was she there? He wanted time alone with you. Why couldn’t he have you to himself for the night? “I’m sorry I know you were on your date but something new just happened in my case!” She said excitedly. Date? The word date made Toby’s heart flutter. His annoyance of Nova’s presence had temporarily subsided. Her chocolate orbs flickered over to Toby.

“Who’s this?”

You awkwardly turned to Toby. “Oh shit sorry, uh, Toby this is Nova, Nova this is Toby,” You say, introducing the two. Nova stuck out her hand, an apple watch secured on her wrist. “So you’re the hitchhiker,” She mused. Toby could sense her protectiveness of you. “And you’re the detective,” He replied, shaking her hand. The two of them purposefully gave the other a tight squeeze before Nova pulled away. “Alrighty then. Well i’d like to discuss this case with you before dawn,” Nova said, gesturing to the file.

“Of course of course,” You say awkwardly. You turned to Toby. “Here let me give you back your hoodie,” You said. Your fingers began to grab at the hem, Toby’s larger hand stopping you. You hadn’t realized bandages covered a majority of his hands until then. “Keep i-it. I’ll come get it from you late-er,” He told you. You could feel heat dash across your cheeks from his touch. You stood on your tippy toes, planting a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you Toby. I’ll see you soon?”

Toby nodded affirmatively, wishing you a goodnight.

He shoved his hands in his jeans as he walked down the hallway, grinning to himself. You’d be seeing him a lot sooner than you thought.

—> next chapter

[chvoswxtch]

desire

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: now that the defenders of freedom had been caught, what's next for you and frank?

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol & grief, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 8.1k

a/n: the one you've all been waiting for. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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Considering the fact that your place was still an active crime scene and Homeland still needed to track down the rest of Steven’s dipshit goons to ensure there would be no more threats or attacks, Dinah wanted to take you to a safe house until the investigation was finished.

Frank, however, was not having any of that shit.

It was admittedly an ego boost watching Dinah and Frank lock into a heated staring contest while arguing about who got protective custody of you, and definitely amusing. But eventually, she gave into the stubborn brick wall that was Frank Castle, threw her hands up in total exasperation that was followed by a colorful string of adjectives thrown his way, and that was how you found yourself once again on the road with Frank. 

Initially when you noticed that Frank was driving in the direction outside of the city, perplexment weaved between your brows, but he quickly set your curiosity straight as soon as he noticed it blanketing your features. He didn’t even give you a chance to voice your inquisitions before explaining that he was taking you somewhere safe that no one else knew about.

That knowledge filled you with a bubbling sense of giddiness because getting to stay with Frank at his apartment was one thing, but getting to stay with him in a place that sounded private and secluded? Yeah, that was more than okay with you. 

The longer Frank drove, the more drastic the scenery changed, passing by in a blurry film reel on the other side of the passenger window. The clamorous and bustling streets of the concrete city faded away slowly and soon settled into quiet black asphalt that shrank to one lane on either side of the road. The millions of inhabitants of New York City seemed to melt away into the horizon in the rear view mirror of Frank’s truck, leaving the two of you the only souls for miles. The trees became more and more dense, creating opaque patches of foliage in golden ochre, rusty ginger, and spiced cranberry. In that moment, sitting in the passenger seat was the most at peace you had felt in almost seven months since the whole had nightmare began, and a lot of that peace had everything to do with the man in the driver’s seat absentmindedly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the Bruce Springsteen CD currently playing.

After about two hours of driving and light conversation, Frank turned off the asphalt road onto an unmarked dirt path, and you turned your head to stare over at him in half-hearted suspicion while lifting a brow in silent questioning.

“You know, if you kept me alive this long just to murder me in the middle of the woods, that’s some serious dedication.”

Without missing a beat, Frank let out a dry chuckle.

“If I was gonna kill ya, I woulda started switchin’ your coffee out with decaf a long time ago.”

It was always a struggle not to laugh at Frank’s dry sense of humor. You tried not to give him the satisfaction of your amusement, but you found yourself giving in more and more lately. Letting out an overly dramatic sharp gasp while staring at him in exaggerated faux horror, you reached over and lightly smacked your palm against his firm bicep. 

“That is the most evil form of torture I have ever heard.”

Frank snickered deviantly, clearly pleased with himself, and the relaxed grin on his soft lips was stretched so wide that his lifted cheeks caused his eyes to crinkle in delight. For a moment, your breath caught in your throat at the sight. It never failed to render you speechless just how much lighter Frank looked when he smiled. Happiness looked so achingly beautiful on him. Every time you silently observed him, you always learned something new about Frank. He had deep set creases softly feathering around the edges of his eye sockets, proof that Frank had once been a man that smiled and laughed as easily as he breathed. You sincerely hoped that version of him that he seemed to keep buried so deeply was steadily rising back to the surface, and that these ephemeral glimpses you got would soon become permanent.

The gilded stream of midday light cast a velvet glow on Frank’s softened features, leaving you so completely entranced that you hadn’t even noticed the lack of motion when he parked his truck. 

“We’re here.”

The gruff alert of Frank’s voice induced you out of your bewitchment, and it was then that you suddenly noticed the quaint one story cabin nestled a few feet away in front of you.

It was composed of wood in a rich shade of burnt umber, and topped with a forest green downward v-shaped roof. There were a few worn steps leading up to an enclosed porch that appeared to snugly wrap around the cabin entirely, and two large square glass windows on either side of the front door that was painted the same shade of green as the roof. The curtains were drawn so you couldn’t see inside, but from the outside it looked incredibly cozy.

When you got out of the car, you noticed there wasn’t anything around at all but thick woods, and you silently wondered just how far back they went. There didn’t appear to be anyone or anything around for miles, and the only sounds you could hear were birds chirping and the worn wooden steps creaking under the weight of Frank’s heavy black boots. 

“Wow. Billy offers one hell of a retirement plan.” 

Following up the steps behind Frank’s large frame, a glimpse of black flashed in your peripheral vision, and you noticed there were security cameras installed on the left and right corners of the roof, along with what looked to be several motion detector lights along the top perimeter. Knowing Frank, there were probably far more around the entire cabin, and probably even hidden in the trees as well.

Frank paused for a moment at your comment, his dark brown eyes glossing over your presence at his right before taking in the sight of his own cabin like it was the first time he had ever seen it. 

“Nah, s’just somethin’ I never got ‘round to finishin’ ‘til a few months ago. Almost forgot ‘bout it. It was s’posed to be a surprise project for my-” 

The second Frank cut himself off, his body language changed entirely. His relaxed posture instantly stiffened, causing him to stand rigidly at his full height while his shoulders squared to their broadened width. The former calm expression he wore turned to stone right before your very eyes and he clenched his jaw in such a harsh line you could hear his teeth grind. Frank was intensely staring directly through the small six panel window that was in the top middle of the front door, like there was something on the other side that only he could see. 

Before you could react, he abruptly unlocked the front door and pushed it open with his left hand, clearing his throat and vaguely gesturing with his index finger before turning away to descend the stairs without giving you so much as a second glance.

“I’ll uh get the bags. Room at the end of the hall on the right is yours.”

The haunted look in Frank’s eyes reminded you of the night of the gala when he had told you that he had lost his wife. It was almost the exact same one. The thought briefly crossed your mind that he meant to say it had been a surprise project for her, but you quickly put it to rest. Frank clearly didn’t want to elaborate on the subject, and you knew better than to push. The best thing to do was give him his space and let him come to you if he wanted to. Still, it didn’t stop the journalist in you from running wild with questions, and also filling you with a slight sense of guilt that you were about to share a space with Frank that was meant to be something sacred and special between him and his wife.

»»———　　———««

The room at the end of the hall ended up being the master bedroom, to which you protested heavily against taking, but ultimately ended up being an argument you lost because Frank played dirty and distracted you with the delectable scent of homemade pasta sauce and a wine glass that was filled to the brim with bubbly pink.

While you sat at the kitchen island and sipped at your now half empty glass, you studied Frank with a narrowed gaze. A part of you was annoyed with him and yourself at how easily you fell into the trap he set. He knew you well enough to know Italian food was your weakness and that you were more compliant after being fed. But a bigger part of you was completely mesmerized by the way he gracefully navigated the open kitchen. 

There was a furrow of concentration nestled between his thick brows while he precisely measured specific spices to add to the saucepan that was layered with ruby sauce that he had garnished with freshly cut oregano and parsley. On the far back left burner was a boiling pot of penne pasta, and in front of that was a skillet of ground meat Frank had added diced onion and garlic to along with several other seasonings. He shifted between each pan with a quiet elegance that captivated you, and simultaneously irritated you, because there didn’t seem to be a damn thing the man couldn’t do.

“So you’ve been a secret chef this entire time and didn’t tell me?”

“You didn’t ask.”

Rolling your eyes at his quick retort, you cocked your head to the side slightly and focused on the way his back muscles strained against the fabric of the black henley he wore.

“I’m pretty sure I would’ve had an easier time getting nuclear launch codes from the Russian government than ever getting a straight answer out of you.”

Frank snorted at that, throwing you a quick humored glance over his broad shoulder.

“Hey, I give you answers.”

“Oh yeah, after nearly five months of stonewalling me. I didn’t even know what you did before becoming a bodyguard until you told me, what, a week and a half ago?”

Frank lifted one of his thick brows while turning his body slightly towards you.

“You never read my personnel file?”

Glancing down at your wine glass, you clicked your tongue against the inside of your cheek and gave a subtle shake of your head.

“Homeland wouldn’t let me have it.”

“And you let that stop you?”

There was a hint of tease in Frank’s deep voice, and you lifted your gaze to squint at him in annoyance noticing the cheeky smirk curling at the edge of his mouth.

“I’m a journalist, Frank. Not a hacker.”

“Ah, don’t give me that shit. That may be your job but it ain’t all you are. Besides, you’re a goddamn force to be reckoned with and a pain in the ass when you don’t get your way.”

A mischievous smirk slipped across your lips while you brought your glass up to your mouth, looking at Frank innocently over the rim.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Frank’s eyes seemed to wander over your face, stopping at the way the rim of the glass settled against your bottom lip, and when he met your eyes again, they were subtly darkened with that look that sent a tingle down your spine.

He silently stared at you for only a second longer before giving a slight nod, and you caught the wry smile slipping over his lips as he turned back to face the stove.

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart.”

You weren’t exactly sure what the source was of the heat you currently felt blooming in your cheeks: the wine you had consumed, the aroma of the fresh chili pepper Frank had just added to the sauce, or the way he had just looked at you.

Attempting to redirect your impure thoughts before the liquid courage could make you bold enough to voice them, you looked for something to distract yourself with. With your chin in your palm, you glanced down at the rouge tinted liquid and lazily swished it around in your wine glass. A thought quickly popped into your head that caused you to let out a soft snort.

“I didn’t take you as a rosé guy.”

Frank adjusted the heat on the sauce to a low simmer before turning to face you fully, wiping his large hands off on a sage green rag before tossing it over his right shoulder. He took a step over towards the island you were sitting at and wrapped his long fingers around his own wine glass, which looked ludicrously tiny in his hand, and took a long purposeful swig before licking his lips and arching one of his dark brows. 

“What? This is good shit.”

Reaching for the half empty bottle sitting on the island, you let out a soft laugh and went in for a refill. The relaxing effects of the wine had clearly already reached your brain, and before it could catch up with your mouth, you blurted out your next question like it couldn’t possibly ruin the mood.

“Was this your wife’s favorite?”

Frank didn’t clam up like you had expected given his behavior earlier. Instead, he glanced down at the glass in his hand for a moment before shaking his head with a tiny smile gracing the curve of his lips.

“Nah, friend of mine’s wife got me into this stuff.”

Frank took a moment to stare down into the glass, as if there was a fond memory appearing in the bubbles. Clearing his throat, he took another large swig of the wine and set the nearly empty glass down on the island.

“She uh…she liked white wine.”

For some reason, Frank’s casual admission sent a flush of velour warmth through you. Whatever barrier that had prevented Frank from speaking freely earlier seemed to be somewhat dismantled, and this was the first time he had ever spoken voluntarily about his wife that hadn’t left a heavy fog of grief lingering over either of you. A tender smile stretched across your lips as you lifted your glass up in a silent toast.

“My kinda woman. What was her favorite?”

Frank leaned over the island on his elbows, holding the delicate glass in both of his strong hands. The amber lighting in the kitchen made his eyes look like swirls of melted chocolate, and you resisted the urge to lean in closer when he finally looked at you with a faint smile tugging at the left edge of his mouth.

“Pinot Grigio.”

A huge grin stretched across your lips at his answer, and you shook your head faintly as you light heartedly pointed your right index finger towards Frank and lifted your glass to your lips.

“Oh I bet I could’ve easily converted her to a sauvignon blanc girl. There’s this brand from Chile that makes the best blanc, and she would’ve loved it.”

For a moment Frank simply observed you in silent fondness. When you set your glass down, his eyes flickered to his own, and he made a quiet noise of recognition in his throat before speaking quietly.

“She woulda liked you.”

That single sentiment held more weight and significant meaning to you than anything anyone else had ever said to you. A tight lump formed in your throat as those words echoed in your head, and you felt the overwhelming urge to make this intimate moment just as special for Frank, but with the alcohol in your system you couldn’t convey your feelings as eloquently.

“My mom would’ve annoyed you.”

Frank immediately started howling with laughter, turning his head to look at you with squinted eyes in incredulous amusement.

“What?”

“I mean she would have loved you, no doubt about that, but she probably would’ve annoyed you. And definitely hit on you. She was like me, only she had way less of a filter and absolutely zero shame. I think my being nosey and stubborn was genetic, but she took it to a whole other level. Did you know I used to be really quiet?”

Frank’s thick brows lifted in surprise, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. The rosé was acting as a truth serum, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rambling.

“I was. I was very quiet, and extremely cautious, compliments of my careless mother. She wasn’t really careless, I mean she loved me, she was just a bit reckless, but not in a bad way. Like not a I-need-therapy-for-the-rest-of-my-life way but more of a she-had-me-at-sixteen-and-we-grew-up-together way. You know that I was such a bookworm that she practically begged me to be rebellious and hang out with someone other than her or the local librarian? And she’s the whole reason I wanted to go to Columbia, because she wanted to go to Columbia, but you can’t go to Columbia with a baby and no high school degree, and I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, and I probably should have shut up ten minutes ago, but anyway my mom would’ve liked you but definitely annoyed you more than me.”

Those newfound beloved crinkles were once again decorating Frank’s eyes as he chuckled heartily at your rambling. He downed the rest of his own wine before setting the empty glass down, flashing you a crooked grin as he loosely gestured in your direction with his chin.

“I’m sure I woulda liked Lorelai just as much as I do you.”

There was a skip in your heart’s rhythm, partly because he finally admitted that he liked you as a person, but more so when you realized that Frank remembered your mother’s name. It tugged at your heartstrings, because it was such a simple gesture, but also because it reminded you just how much you missed your mother. 

“I forget sometimes.”

Frank tilted his head to the side slightly when your soft voice settled in the space between the two of you, and his playful grin slowly vanished as he watched while you stared blankly down into your glass, clearly lost in your own thoughts.

“Forget what?”

“That she’s gone.”

There was a slight tremble to your voice as you looked up at Frank with a miniscule sad smile. The empathy in his eyes was almost too much to bear, and you had to look away to keep your composure from crumbling. Turning your head to the left, you took a moment to observe the layout and minimalist decor in the kitchen while letting out a shaky exhale.

“Sometimes I go to call her…just…on my way home from work, you know? Just to talk to her, hear the latest small town gossip, tell her about the latest coffee shop I’ve found that she absolutely has to try when she comes to visit next. There’s even been times I’ve left her voicemails. I’ll be so wrapped up in something and wanna vent to her, and then I’ll start to wonder why she hasn’t called back yet, and then it’ll just…hit me.”

Frank stayed quiet while he listened sympathetically, and the entire cabin was silent apart from the quiet sizzling coming from the stovetop until you gently spoke up again.

“Do you forget too?”

Finally looking over at Frank again, you watched as he lighty dragged his palm down the lower half of his face. While he glanced down at the smooth mahogany countertop, he clasped his large hands together while still resting on his elbows.

“I don’t forget she’s gone, but I uh…I’ve started forgettin’ things. I can’t remember what her perfume smelled like…or what her favorite song was. I can hear it sometimes, ya’know? Every now and then I get these…bits and pieces. Sometimes I can hear her hummin’ it in the kitchen, but it ain’t long enough to remember what song it was, ya’know? Everythin’ started gettin’ fuzzy…and I remember more things I wanna forget than things I actually wanna remember.”

There was a stretch of silence where neither of you spoke. Eventually, Frank straightened up and turned his back to you to walk back over towards the stove. Even though you knew it might not be the right time to ask, there was a question that had been burning in the back of your mind since the night of the gala.

“Frank?”

He hummed quietly in response, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder as he gave you his full attention.

“What was her name?”

The softness of your question clearly caught him off guard, and you could see the hesitation lingering in Frank’s eyes. Worried that you had crossed the line and completely ruined the moment, you were about to hastily backtrack and tell him that he didn’t have to answer when Frank let out a deep exhale through his large nose, touching his index and middle finger over his chest most likely where his wedding band sat beneath his shirt.

“Maria.”

A minuscule smile covered the edge of your mouth as you tilted your head slightly to the side and tried out her name on your tongue.

“Maria. Is this her recipe?”

Frank's eyes flickered over towards the pans and the pot of boiling pasta that were still on the stove. After a moment, he nodded his head and turned his attention back to you with a tender look in his eyes.

“Penne all'Arrabbiata con Manzo. Her grandmother was Sicilian, just like my parents were. She made this every time I came home from a tour.”

The significance and sentiment behind the recipe Frank was cooking made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your ribcage. Quickly topping off Frank’s empty glass with more wine, you carefully got down from the bar stool that you were sitting on and rounded the island to make your way over to Frank. As you offered him the half full glass of wine, Frank’s eyes flickered curiously between it and your own gaze while his large hand reached out to wrap his fingers around the glass. Smiling softly up at him, you lifted your own glass slightly in the air.

“Well then, to Maria.”

There was a sudden luminescence to Frank’s warm brown eyes, but you didn’t get a chance to study it long before he nodded slightly and his lips stretched faintly into a tiny smile as he delicately clinked his glass against yours and repeated your toast in a more delicate volume of his deep voice.

“To Maria.”

»»———　　———««

“You’re fired.”

Hearty laughter boomed from deep within Frank’s chest and echoed over the crackling firewood currently blazing. He adjusted his position on the couch a few inches away from you, his features highlighted due to the radiant flames cascading from the fireplace in a contorted expression of skepticism and entertainment.

“What? Why?”

“I have known you for seven months, Castle. Seven. Months. And I’m just now finding out you have the culinary skills of a five star chef. Unacceptable. Unforgivable. I’m calling Billy first thing in the morning.”

You couldn’t hardly get through your own sentence without bursting into a fit of laughter, and Frank was in no better shape as he threw his head back against the couch and clutched at his chest with his hand that wasn’t holding his third glass of wine. There were nearly three empty bottles between the two of you forgotten on the dining table, and this was the most loose you had ever seen Frank. Maybe you should get him tipsy more often.

“You can’t fire me.”

“And why not?”

“Cause I ain’t assigned to you no more, brat.”

While Frank teased you nonchalantly as he sipped at his glass and watched the flames dance across the firewood, his words instantly sobered you up. He was right. The Defenders of Freedom had been caught, Steven was facing trial, and there was no reason for Frank to stick around anymore. It was a revelation you had been trying to ignore for the past twenty-four hours. A wave of uncertainty crashed over you in that moment. What would happen between you and Frank? When would he get assigned to someone else? Would that take him far away from you? How long could you stay in this little bubble outside reality?

Glancing down at the wounds in your palm that had steadily begun to heal, you lightly traced your thumb over the raised irritated edges as a thought suddenly flashed across your mind.

“I never thanked you.”

Even though your voice was barely above a whisper, Frank caught it, and he turned his head to look at you intently with slightly confused brows.

“For what?”

Closing your eyes for a moment, you shook your head faintly before looking back at Frank with subtle remorse.

“For everything you’ve done for me. For saving my life, more than once, and-”

Frank instantly brushed off your gratitude with a shake of his own head, reaching over to place his glass of wine on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“It’s my job-”

“No. Your job was to keep me safe, but you did so much more than that. You dealt with all of my shit, fixed every problem I created, and even when Homeland pulled you away, you still showed up for me. Frank, I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. You saved me from those guys at the bar, you saved me from Cavella and Walker, and…you’re still saving me, even now. I could’ve gone to a safe house with Dinah, but you brought me here, even though I’m not your problem anymore-”

Frank reached for your glass of wine and firmly set it on the coffee table, effectively catching your attention while he started almost directly into your soul with a serious expression.

“Hey, you have never been a problem. Ever. You got that?”

There were so many emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for seven months that you hadn’t been processing, and now they seemed to be rising to a level you could no longer ignore. The verity in Frank’s voice nearly had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you just wanted answers. Why did he care so much? Why was he still protecting you? Why were you here right now?

“Frank…you could’ve walked away. There were so many times you could’ve walked away. Why…why did you stay?”

A substantial weight felt like it had finally been lifted off your chest as you asked the one question that had been lingering in your bones for weeks now. Although that weight was replaced by a lead filled sense of dread while you waited with anxious anticipation for a response, knowing was better than not knowing. 

Frank’s deep brown eyes stared so fiercely into your own, that you felt vulnerably stripped bare despite the clothing covering your body. When he reached his left hand over to place on your jean clad thigh, he grasped it firmly and leaned in just close enough so that you couldn’t escape the enrapture of his gaze.

“I want you to listen to me, right now. I’m always gonna keep you safe, you got that? Job or no job.”

The intensity burning in his eyes and the dropped octave of his rough voice nearly stunned you silent. Your lips parted slightly as if to speak, but your fogged brain struggled to form a coherent sentence. This was the closest you had been to Frank since you had climbed onto his lap in his truck, and you were fighting so hard to not let history repeat itself. But that look…that one goddamn look you could never decipher was roaring fervently in his gaze again, and you were going absolutely mad not knowing what it meant.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you found yourself leaning in closer, staring deeply into Frank’s warm brown eyes with a pleading look reflected in your own desperate stare. You wanted to know why. You needed to know why. And you were begging Frank for a confession that wasn’t encrypted.

“Why?”

“Because you’re mine to protect.”

The possessiveness that dripped from Frank’s low voice had you abruptly clenching your thighs together, trapping his thick fingers between your weakened knees. If he minded the entrapment at all, he didn’t show it. The blaze of the fireplace was no longer what had the temperature steadily rising within your body, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Frank’s vigorous and unwavering stare. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and even though you had a million questions clamoring through your brain, all you could manage to get out in a hoarse whisper was one you needed confirmation on.

“I am?”

Frank retracted his large hand from your thigh, raising it up slowly to carefully grab your face. A few of his long fingers curled around the back of your neck while his index and middle finger rested along the underside of your jaw, and his thumb pressed lightly against your chin. His heated gaze dropped to your lips momentarily before flickering back up to meet your eyes, and that fire in them was burning bright enough for God herself to see.

“You’re goddamn right.”

Without another word, Frank pulled you in for a searing kiss, pressing his soft lips against yours tentatively but with enough passion to make his answer crystal clear. A delicate noise of surprise sounded in the back of your throat, and for a moment you nearly stopped breathing. If that first kiss in Frank’s truck was a rare comet bursting across the sky, this one felt like a supernova erupting in a kaleidoscope of colors and stardust exploding across the expanse of the universe.

Even as he retracted his lips just a bit to stare deeply into your eyes to gauge your reaction, his hand gently cradling your face kept you firmly in place. All you could do was stare at Frank in complete stupefaction. Your lips were fervently tingling and your body felt like it had been struck by lightning. Frank’s eyes were searching yours for an answer he seemed to desperately need judging by the way his other hand lightly squeezed at your waist.

“If I’m crossin’ a line, you gotta tell me now. Cause I can’t go back, sweetheart.”

The tender emotion entwined within his words nearly made it sound like Frank was begging for your answer, and suddenly it all clicked. You could never figure it out before, but now as you stared at him in complete wonder and paid close attention to his display of vulnerability, you were finally able to decode that cryptic look in Frank’s eyes.

Desire.

“I don’t wanna go back.”

That breathless confession was all Frank needed, and he seemed to groan in relief when you surged forward to capture his lips with renewed vigor. Frank was so much more engaged in this kiss, and you took that as a good sign to give in to every single temptation. Before you could even think about climbing onto his lap, Frank was three steps ahead of you, and his large hands were firmly gripping onto your hips and effortlessly pulling you over to straddle his hips. Frank’s hands were everywhere; kneading at your denim covered thighs, gripping tightly onto your waist, carding his fingers through your hair and grasping at the back of your head to keep you as close as physically possible.

You cupped his face firmly in your hands and seductively swiped your tongue along his bottom lip begging for entrance, causing a low growl to resonate from deep within Frank’s chest, and his large hands suddenly squeezed your ass tightly through your jeans while you moaned when his taste met your tongue. The taste of Frank was much sharper this time, and you felt far more intoxicated by him than the three bottles of wine the two of you had consumed together.

Even with your chest pressed firmly against his own, it felt like you couldn’t physically be close enough. You wanted to be entirely consumed by Frank, to completely melt into the warmth of his skin and breathe his essence into your lungs. The synchronization of your lips and tongues molding together was impeccable, and the world outside ceased to exist while the two of you began to unravel one another.

An overwhelming surge of impatience had you nearly shredding his black henley with your nails while you fervently shoved it up his toned chest, eagerly caressing the scarred canvas of his tan skin with your fingertips like you had been daydreaming about doing since that night in the motel. He didn’t hesitate to teasingly brush his thumbs along the sliver of exposed skin above your hips before pushing your shirt up your waist and over your head. While you tore it off quickly and carelessly discarded it behind you, Frank dove in to attach his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, dragging his warm and wet tongue along the column of it before gently biting down on the juncture above your collarbone.

A soft moan slipped past your lips and you instinctively rocked your hips against Frank’s lap, coaxing a deep grunt from his chest. He left a searing trail of kisses along your shoulder, the rough pads of his fingers softly tugging the straps of your bra down your arms before splaying both of his large hands against your lower back to pull you further against his own chest. Frank nuzzled his large nose along your neck and whispered huskily into your ear.

“This alright?”

“Yes.”

Unfiltered lust clouded your vision a deep shade of crimson, and you blindly clawed at Frank’s belt while he continued his blazing path of kisses along your jawline and down your neck towards your chest. All of a sudden, his large hands clasped around your wrists gently to halt your movements, and he pulled back a bit to stare deeply into your eyes while panting slightly.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t no rush.”

“Frank, please.”

The desperate plea that sounded from your lips seemed to ignite a brand new fire within Frank, and your consent shredded that last strand of hesitation that was holding him back. He placed his large hands against your ass and lifted you effortlessly in the air, and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. Frank easily navigated around the coffee table and slowly knelt down on the fluffy cream colored rug in front of the fireplace, carefully laying you down onto your back. This time when you tugged the leather of his belt away from the buckle, he didn’t stop you, and instead his own deft fingers made lightning work in ridding you of your own jeans.

Slipping one of his hands underneath your back, he easily unhooked your bra with his thumb and index finger, and the second your bare chest was exposed to him, Frank firmly grasped one of your breasts in his calloused hand and took your peaked nipple into his mouth. Your lips parted widely feeling the jolt of pleasure that had you arching your back slightly when he swirled his warm tongue around the sensitive and stiff bud while gently sinking his teeth into the flesh of your breast. 

The sensation elicited a series of breathless whimpers to leave your mouth, and Frank grunted lowly in response as you rolled your hips upwards in search of friction, feeling the heavy heat of his hardened cock against your lower stomach through the thin cotton of his briefs. It was a marvel you hadn’t flooded the cabin with how turned on you currently were, and this wasn’t even scratching the surface of what Frank was going to do to you. You gripped at his bulging biceps, his broad shoulders, dark tufts of his disheveled hair, anything you could get your hands on to keep him close to you. 

Frank began to slowly descend your body, placing his hands firmly on your sides while leaving warm and wet open mouthed kisses down your stomach, even licking a teasing bold stripe above your belly button. The sight alone nearly made your eyes roll into the back of your head and caused you to whine softly, knowing exactly where his next destination was. But as much as you wanted to have Frank’s mouth on you, and God did you want it, you weren’t sure you could stand another second of not knowing what it felt like to have him inside you.

After he slipped your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, you gave his messy cropped curls a gentle tug to get his attention before he could spread your thighs and settle his broad shoulders between the apex of them. Frank glanced up to meet your gaze, his warm brown eyes nearly as black as the coffee he’d consumed this morning due to how wide his pupils were blown open. The hunger eclipsing them caused you to shudder, and you took a mental image of the sight of him nearly naked between your thighs staring at you like a ravenous wolf salivating at the sight of a vulnerable lamb.

“Please, Frank…I need you. I wanna feel you now…please.”

The two of you seemed to be stuck in the same conundrum, caught in tandem between wanting to savor the moment you had both waited so long for, and also wanting to give into the impulses of your magnetizing desire.

As much as you could see in his hungry expression that he wanted to take his time, to devour you slowly and worship every inch of you, the distress dripping from your breathless plea triggered his own raging need, and he silently obeyed while moving upwards again to hover over your body, capturing your lips in a deeply passionate kiss while you ardently pushed his briefs down his hips and off completely. Frank settled between your hips, displacing his heavy body weight by supporting himself on his forearms that were locked on either side of your head. You were completely caged in and at his mercy beneath him, but that was exactly where you wanted to be. 

Frank searched your gaze ardently once again for any sign of hesitation, his dark eyes roaming up and down your face before his tongue quickly darted out to wet his lips.

“We can call it here, ya’know? No hard feelin’s. I can-”

Reaching a hand up to gently hold the side of his face, you placed your thumb against his plump lips to cut off the velvet timbre of his whisper.

“Frank, I want this. I want you. But if you don’t-”

“I do. You got no idea how much I do. But…I want it to be right, yeah?”

A gentle smile covered your lips while gazing up at him in complete adoration.

“Doesn’t this feel right?”

Frank’s eyes flickered between your own and he subtly nodded his head, glancing down at your lips briefly before looking directly into your eyes again.

“Yeah…yeah it does.”

Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a sensual kiss, and the second he nudged the blunt head of his thick cock within your entrance, a sharp gasp flew past your lips and it felt like all the wind had been knocked right out of your lungs. He groaned quietly and nuzzled his large nose against the column of your neck, firmly grasping at your thigh and pulling your leg up and around his waist while he pushed in deeper slowly, one inch at a time.

While your nails instinctively dug fiercely into the muscle of his shoulders, no doubt leaving deep maroon crescent shaped indentations behind, Frank paused for a moment and snaked his hand down between your bodies, lightly brushing the rough pad of his thumb in lazy circles over your clit to help your body relax. You had been soaked through your panties from the moment your lips met, but Frank’s girth wasn’t one your walls had accommodated before, and he did his best to ease the sting of the burning stretch with stimulated pleasure.

“Frank…”

As soon as your hips connected completely and Frank was fully nestled within your tight heat, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head, and your jaw became completely unhinged as you let out a smooth legato moan. You felt Frank’s body tense above you while he buried his face into your neck, letting out a quiet hiss as he breathed out a shaky deep exhale.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, sweetheart.”

“Oh my God…Frank-”

“I know baby, I know. Gimme a second.”

You don’t know how long it was before Frank finally started moving his hips. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. All you knew was that you had never felt so full and so complete in your entire life. 

Letting out a quiet shudder, Frank slowly retracted his hips just a bit before cresting against you once again like a gentle tide. He removed his face from your neck so he could stare down into your eyes to watch your face, and you gazed up at him with wide-eyed passion and marvel. You brought your other leg up to also wrap around his waist and wrapped your arms securely around his neck, trapping Frank against your body just as much as you were beneath his. 

Frank reached between your chests with his right hand and gripped his wedding band between his thumb and index finger, tossing it and the chain over his back so there was nothing separating the two of you, just his heated skin pressed firmly against yours. Bringing your hands upwards, your trembling fingers weaved through his hair, tugging somewhat roughly at the messy cropped dark strands on top of his head when he began to languidly increase his pace.

It was like you couldn’t speak. Your mouth hung open while you stared up into Frank’s warm brown eyes that seemed to gleam from the amber glow of the fire, but nothing came out except echoes of the pleasure he handcrafted. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, watching in awe as his plump lips parted from panting heavily, his eyes becoming hooded from streams of ecstasy racing through his bloodstream. He gazed down into your eyes in complete adoration, gently stroking his index and middle finger down your cheekbone delicately as you stared up at him with parted lips and pleading eyes. 

Frank brought his left hand up to gently brush your hair away from your forehead, cradling the back of your head while his right one came up once again to gently grab your face. Although this time, his index finger rested along your jawline while his thumb and other fingers laced around your throat carefully, which nearly sent you into a frenzy. He leaned in to teasingly slip his tongue into your mouth, kissing you with such ferocity as if he craved the very breath in your lungs.

Frank vacillated his hips repeatedly against your own in a steady rhythm, but with a meticulous precision that revealed new depths with your body even you weren’t aware of. Every sensual thrust wound that tense coil within you tighter and tighter, and it was only a matter of time before you erupted into gratified pieces of confetti. Reaching a shaky hand up to grip onto the back of his neck, your fingertips vibrated as they brushed over the close shaven hair on the back of his head, and you pulled him down forcefully for another deeply passionate kiss. 

Only when your lungs began to burn due to lack of oxygen did you finally break apart. He leaned in to press his forehead against yours, gazing so deeply into your eyes you swore he could see right into your soul. You stared back up into Frank’s eyes as yours became glossy due to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure you were experiencing. His coarse grunts and reverberating groans echoing in your ears had your toes curling, and as your mouth hung open in silent begging, you nodded swiftly with an expression that let Frank know you felt it too.

“Please…please…”

That familiar bubble of euphoria was starting to expand wider and wider within your lower belly and you weren’t sure how much longer you had before it burst. The way Frank fit perfectly within your body was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, and you were stuck on the cusp of never wanting it to end, but also wanting to see just how far it could go. You had never been with someone that seemed to be so finely in tune with your body, or that genuinely cared about your satisfaction, but Frank was treating your pussy as if he had designed it specifically for himself. The realization of knowing you wouldn’t have to finish yourself off later like you had to with your exes was a welcomed relief, but not knowing what brink of indulgence Frank was about to catapult you over was exhilarating. 

“Frank…Frank…”

“S’alright, baby, I know. Let me have it, yeah? C’mon baby, let go for me.”

A soft whimper slipped past your lips. You were so close, and God you wanted so badly to jump head first into the free fall. But a tiny part of you felt frustrated because you wanted to witness Frank free fall too. You wanted to see him let go, hear his praises of your name, and be coherent enough to feel Frank lose himself.

But you would have to wait your turn, because Frank was sending you barreling towards the edge of an orgasm with every punctual and powerful snap of his hips, and you had no choice but to surrender to the heat of his body enveloping yours in a cocoon of pure warmth and safety. 

Frank grabbed both of your smaller hands and laced your fingers together, giving them a tight squeeze as a tangible reminder he was right there with you. He pinned them gently on the soft rug above your head, his pace becoming a bit sloppy as he began to lose his own composure. 

“Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see them pretty eyes, c’mon. Let me see ‘em.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open until you physically couldn’t, wanting to witness every second of Frank’s own impending climax contorting his features as he fought to control himself until you were ready to let go. 

“There ya go, attagirl. Let go for me, sweetheart. S’alright, let me have it, yeah?”

A symphony of his name played from your lips at a steady crescendo until it filled the entirety of the cabin, and all at once a flash of white exploded behind your eyes as you free fell through space and time, floating in a cloud composed of Frank’s honeyed praises of your name and delicate sweet nothings. You’d given yourself powerful orgasms before but you had never felt something so intense as the delectation Frank created. It felt like you were floating between the astral space between Heaven and Earth, and you weren’t sure you could find your way back to your physical body again.

There was a faint amber glow flickering across your closed lids, and as you slipped in and out of coherence, you felt soft lips delicately pressing against your forehead and the edge of rough fingers gently stroking along your cheekbone lovingly. You didn’t want to move, you weren’t even sure if you could, but there was one thing you did want.

“Frank?”

The voice that resonated in your ears was fuzzy and distant, and it didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. A strong pair of arms wrapped securely around you, pulling you in from your stranded orbit closer towards where you were meant to be, and Frank’s soothing gruff voice quietly dripped a sacred promise into your ear.

“M’here.”

The hypnotic lullaby of his heart’s rhythm tethered you back to the dreamlike reality of Frank holding you against his chest, and that was all you needed to slip away under the blanket of stars that were dancing behind your eyes.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[squish--squash]

I'm rewatching Good Omens, and noticed something in the first episode that has left me spiraling into a theory.

It's in the scene when Hastur and Ligur are handing Adam over to Crowley. Hastur asks Crowley to sign something beforehand, and:

I thought it was a scribble the first time I watched it bc I was trying to figure out what was going on. But it's not a scribble.

It's not a 'C' either, for 'Crowley' It's not a 'A' or 'J' either, for the rest of his name.

It's an 'L'. It gets hard to see as he's finishing it, but it's the letter 'L'

This is how you write a capital 'L' in cursive:

you swoop up and to the right, drop down, swoop left, and finish on the right.

and Crowley does this with his signature:

here's him beginning the letter, swooping up and to the right

Then he moves down,

loops to the left,

And finishes it as he moves back towards the right (and at this point, the complete letter is hard to make out. It's why I thought it was a scribble the first time I watched this episode)

Crowley's signature on the document Hastur makes him sign before delivering the Antichrist to start Armageddon, something that is arguably one of the most important things hell wants to document, is an 'L'.

WHY?

Why not a 'C', for Crowley, the name he currently goes by? Hastur and Ligur confirm the name itself earlier in the same scene ("What's he calling himself up here these days?"/"Crowley.")

Well, if going by what he claims in a later s1 episode that "Crowley" is his last name (Anthony J. Crowley), it would make sense for one of his initials to be put there.

Except it doesn't, because "Crowley" is not his real name. it's not the name he began with, the one he had as an angel.

So then, what would this name be? What would be a name for an angel, who is now a demon? A demon who was there to tempt eve, as a snake, into eating the forbidden fruit. Someone that brought the stars, and light, to the universe. A name that begins with the letter 'L'.

There's one I can think of that matches, and that name is Lucifer.

"But Squish!" I know some of y'all will comment, "What about that line Crowley said in episode 5? He mentions Lucifer, so it can't be him!"

In episode 5, Crowley says the following: "I never asked to be a demon. I was just minding my own business one day and then...oh, lookie here, it's Lucifer and the guys! Oh, hey, the food hadn't been that good lately. I didn't have anything on for the rest of that afternoon. Next thing, I'm doing a million-light-year dive into a pool of boiling sulphur."

Crowley also says in the second episode: "I didn't mean to fall. I just hung out with the wrong people."

A lot of people believe that it's implied that when Crowley said this, it meant he met Lucifer and hung out with him. But when he says it, it sounds like he's mockingly quoting someone else, talking to him.

The "Lucifer and the guys!" might've been directed to Crowley, using his name. This would match that line from a previous episode, "hung out with the wrong people."

"But Squish!" I know some of y'all will comment after reading that, "What about Satan? Lucifer is Satan, and Crowley isn't Satan!"

And neither is Beelzebub. Fun fact, by the way: One of the many names for The Devil, Satan himself, is Beelzebub. But Beelzebub is a whole different character. So why can't Lucifer be a whole different character too? After all, many people still argue to this day that Lucifer and Satan aren't one and the same...

Also, here's something interesting:

Crowley is the only character in the tv series that has mentioned Lucifer, and it was in that line I mentioned earlier. Lucifer is also mentioned once, in the book, but by Shadwell, mishearing Newt's last name as "Lucifer" instead of "Pulsifer". And Satan? In both the book and the tv show, he is never called another name other than "Satan", usually followed by his fancy and long title. His description in the book's "DRAMATIS PERSONAE" is literally "fallen angel; the adversary". No Lucifer.

And how about this:

Crowley was the one who started the universe, we see that at the beginning of season 2. He was the first one, to our knowledge, to say "let there be light." "Lucifer" means "light-bringer" Crowley was the snake that tempted eve into eating the apple in the garden of eve. We see this in the beginning of episode one. Many claim Lucifer was the one who did that. Crowley fell because he asked questions about how the universe should be run, after seeing its creation and being so proud of it. Many claim Lucifer's big sin that sent him falling was his pride stemming from his beauty causing him to revolt; eerily similar to Crowley asking questions after watching the beautiful universe he helped plan be born and growing protective after learning it was going to get shut down so early in its lifetime, isn't it? Crowley was a powerful angel. This is heavily implied in season 2, with the tiny joint-miracle he and Aziraphale made being as powerful as an archangel's. He has the ability to mask his presence powerful enough to fool Uriel, Michael, and Gabriel (the only other character we've seen have that kind of masking power was the Metatron, who Crowley was also the first to recognize). When going through records with Muriel, they claim only very high-ranking angels have clearance to look through the records of Gabriel, an archangel so powerful he single-handedly had the power to stop "Armageddon 2" from being put into plan; Crowley is able to access them. And Lucifer? Often described as having been a very powerful angel.

Lucifer is such an important name, such an important character, in the theologies surrounding Good Omens. So, where is he? Why has he only been mentioned seriously once, by Crowley?

The answer could be this, simple and short: Because he is Crowley.

EDIT:

I dug up the book. It's been a while since I read it (I honestly don't remember much from the book) and here's what it has to say about Crowley's signature...

"Your real name."

.........

HELLO?

EDIT 2:

I found this post from Neil Gaiman's blog. The wording is confusing me, and I can't tell if this debunks or supports the theory..

What Neil Gaiman says is "That was the angel Lucifer. He doesn't exist any more. Now there's just Satan, the adversary." which might throw this entire thing out of the window, but the thing is: he never said Satan used to be Lucifer. He just said Lucifer doesn't exist anymore, but Satan does.

Furthermore, the person who first asked a question asks more questions, two of them: 1. Is Satan what's left of Lucifer after he fell and stopped existing, and 2. If so, does that mean there was an angel that existed that then fell and turned into crowley?

Neil Gaiman's answer is "As far as Crowley is concerned, the Angel that he was no longer exists. (And his name as an Angel wasn’t Crawley or Crowley.)"

He doesn't confirm or deny anything about Satan in that. All he said was "the Angel that he was no longer exists" and that Crowley's angel name wasn't his demon name.

Huh. Funny. He's saying angel!crowley no longer exists, when he just revealed that Lucifer "doesn't exist any more." Either there's a connection here, or I'm going insane.

[yandere-yearnings]

Contract-Bound Death (Yandere!Actor x GN!Reader)

feat. Viorel Dalca

♡ pt.0, approx. 1k words | next.

♡ post-specific warnings: (off-screen) murder, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, the entertainment industry, dark themes, implied use of contracts as a threat | series warnings: yandere themes, the entertainment industry, reader has a guilt complex

♡ a/n: we're pretending it's still 'around the end of october' so i'm not a liar. this is purely a work of fiction. yandere behaviour in real life is a cause of concern. unedited, not proofread.

♡♡♡

It’s the middle of the night, and the floors are still stained with blood when you arrive. Thin smears across marble, flaking up when the wheels of your suitcase roll over them. You'd convince yourself it was just rust that had formed over time, but the lie would die too easy for you to try. After all, now you were working for the devil — and who would he be without murder to his name?

You see him for the first time under the low lights, chandeliers casting dim orange overhead. The Vio before you looks so very different from the one you'd watched from the other side of your screen. Lacking his trademark blue, blonde to the roots and rolling over, wearing white as blank as the look he shot you, brow raised into a pinched arch. You tell yourself that his disdain is only so palpable because he's been through these exact motions a million times before. You tell yourself that it's only natural. 

His attention shifts quickly, back to his script and the lines highlighted in electric teal. It's at this point you realise he isn't going to give you the time of day, that he won't even consider it. All the training leading up to this moment has whittled away your hopes, and finally, they've diminished. Wiping away cold sweat for the promise of six figures lying somewhere in your future, praying that if you didn't last the week, you'd at least be fired instead of killed. 

Unlike the last man in your shoes.

The lump in your throat is firm where it lodges itself; you swallow once, twice and give up. Dry lips parting so you can speak, hoarsely. “Hey.” Already, the nerves have made formality slip your mind. “I'll be working with you from now on. Your new manager.”

Vio scoffs and flicks a page. you think you notice him glare. “Hey,” he mimics, “it’s been a minute and I already can't stand you.”

Wincing at the harshness and deciding that now isn’t the time — that there would likely never be one since the rumours about him had proven to hold — you steal away. Thankfully, Vio doesn’t give you a harder time for it. You suppose he wanted you out of sight, so he wouldn’t.

At least you had your room to look forward to. Back in the winding hallways that this job forced home to you, all your life packed up in the little fabric box that trundled on behind. These white walls made everything seem like they stretched on forever, made you feel awfully alone. A wide world you’d stepped foot on, it was funny how you had been so ready only to get lost so soon.

Tomorrow’s schedule was an early start, high rise at the break of dawn so the light felt more natural on camera. Vio was shooting a solo scene. He’d be the only actor on set. Somehow that did nothing to calm your nerves. Somehow it made them worse. Up velvet steps, your footprints pressed their marks. The choice of colour made you remember something that a producer had said to you before this: that scarlet covered scarlet well. Your stomach churned.

On the ceiling of the top-most storey, there was a brown door nestled in the far corner. You stopped and stared at it for a long while, at the string that dangled down, worn and frayed and used time and time again by different hands. Yours would be the next to pull it, and maybe you didn’t want to anymore. Over your shoulder, there was the winding staircase that you’d just traveled, leading back down to the entrance. The sight drew a sigh from you, it was choked and wet because no matter how much you were beginning to regret this all — you’d signed your life away. That entryway could never be an exit to you.

So you turned your back to it.

Pulling down and unfolding the steps didn’t take much effort, yet the hinges seemed strong. You hauled your luggage up first before you followed, just to stall a second more. Surprisingly, the attic was unlike the rest of the mansion. A largely wooden interior gave it character, and strung fairy lights around potted plants made it feel warm. For a single moment, you found your breath taken in a better way than it had been all week, and then it filled back into your lungs entirely cold because there was something you’d almost forgotten. A dead man had lived here before you.

The way the image kept haunting you, you were starting to convince yourself that it must’ve been your hands that wrapped around his throat and strangled the glimmer from his eyes. They never did, though. It was Vio who took his life. You’d watched it happen from a ways away, but it had still been in front of you. You’re not sure what you had been expecting after that, things were too late; before you could even breathe a word there were papers being held to your neck like knives and they all had your name on them. 

As you shut yourself in and sat there, in the glow you’d been greeted by and that had started to flicker, you finally broke. Your tears were hot but that didn’t make them any comfort. You were scared. Everywhere you turned you were met with the dead looks of people who had seen it all again and again and again. Unable to understand how you were the outlier in this normality. Terrified that Vio didn’t seem even the slightest bit remorseful. Terrified that you’d get used to it. 

World spinning, all a blur on your heavy bones. Fatigue settled and inside you knot after knot tied. You felt heavy, like you’d been flooded entirely in water. No matter how much you cried, the sensation did not ebb. Perhaps your guilt remained to save you. Perhaps it endured, on your mind as the last thing, so that you were still human when you woke up come morning.

[harryssyndrome]

Manic | h.s

summery: he may be a popstar but he’s also a manic the world doesn’t know.

word count: 2.6k || Masterlist

Posted on: November 18th, 2024

This is going to be a short series if you guys like it! Here’s the prologue and chapter 1.

The darkened room was quiet, save for the soft hum of a playlist that had been playing for hours. It was a familiar sound, one that Harry Styles had heard countless times before. The music, meant to soothe and distract, did neither. It never did anymore.

Fame had always come easily to Harry. It had been handed to him on a silver platter after years of hard work, but after so long, he was tired. Not physically, not yet, but mentally. The adoration, the constant need to be the center of attention, it had become exhausting. He didn’t need the spotlight anymore. It was empty. Unfulfilling. All he really craved was something real. Something that felt tangible. But everything felt like a performance, every encounter, every interaction, a scripted scene in a play that had gone on too long.

He should’ve been happy. His name was on the lips of millions, his face splashed across billboards, and his albums charted at number one. And yet, Harry felt hollow inside.

His gaze wandered aimlessly over his phone screen. Another night of scrolling through social media, his thumb moving slowly, mechanically, as he half-heartedly browsed the posts. Then it caught his eye.

A video.

Not just any video—this one was different. A fan edit, yes, but it wasn’t the usual over-enthusiastic nonsense. This one felt… raw. Real. The video was of him, sure, but the energy was unique. The girl in the video was singing along, dancing in her room, her energy infectious. Her eyes sparkled with an unrestrained joy, her movements filled with an innocence he hadn’t seen in a long time.

She wasn’t pretending. She wasn’t trying to be cool or act like she wasn’t completely immersed in the moment.

No, this girl—YN—was different.

The video switched to another post: a selfie of her holding a cardboard cutout of him, beaming at the camera with a grin that was all enthusiasm and giddiness. The caption read: “Just me and my favorite person in the world ❤️ #harrystylesforever.”

Harry watched, transfixed, as if he couldn’t look away. There was something magnetic about her. Something about the way she adored him, but not in the way others did. There was no ulterior motive in her eyes, no agenda beyond the sheer love of his music.

For the first time in a long time, Harry felt… noticed. But not for his fame, or his status. No, this girl—YN—saw him for what he truly was. And in a way, that felt like a breath of fresh air. She wasn’t enamored with the star. She was enamored with the man.

Harry scrolled further through her feed. She had an entire shrine dedicated to him. Posters, merchandise, photos of places he had filmed music videos, concerts she’d attended. The more he scrolled, the more he realized that Kate’s world was revolving around him in a way he couldn’t quite comprehend.

It wasn’t just admiration. It was obsession. Pure and unfiltered.

And he couldn’t stop watching.

Her life was laid out in front of him, piece by piece. She posted about everything. Her favorite coffee shop. The books she read. Her friends. Her artistic creations. His song covers. Every little moment of her life was shared with a world that admired her for the very same reason she adored him.

And Harry couldn’t get enough of it.

There was a pull in his chest as he clicked on her live video, her face lighting up the screen as she spoke, her joy so pure and unguarded it felt like a drug. She laughed, her voice a melodic sound that made his heart beat faster.

“I can’t believe it,” she said, practically giddy. “Harry Styles liked my post! Do you know what that means to me? It’s like… it’s like he knows I exist.” Her voice wavered with emotion. “Like, I don’t even know how to explain it, but it’s like all of my dreams are finally coming true.”

Harry’s lips curled into a slow smile. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—this sense of control. This… pull. There was something about YN, something about the way she expressed her adoration for him, that was different from all the others. She wasn’t just a fan. She was everything he had been looking for.

And the best part? She had no idea he was watching.

He rewound the livestream, watching her over and over again, each time growing more captivated. And then, he noticed something.

In the background, through her window, the faint outline of streetlights and buildings could be seen.

It was just a glimpse. But it was enough.

The thought was sudden, almost like a seed planted in his mind. She was close. So close. It wouldn’t be hard to find her.

And that thought… that thought lingered.

YN woke up the next morning to an onslaught of notifications. Her phone buzzed incessantly, each new one making her stomach flip with excitement. She rubbed her eyes, still groggy from sleep, and grabbed her phone.

A notification from Instagram.

@harrystyles liked your post.

She blinked, staring at the words. Her heart raced. Was she dreaming? She clicked on the notification, her pulse quickening when the page loaded.

It was real.

Harry Styles, the Harry Styles, had liked her post.

Her hands trembled as she swiped through her feed. Was this really happening? The man she had adored for years—the man she had spent countless hours watching, listening to, obsessing over—had noticed her. And not just in passing. He had liked her post.

“I can’t believe it,” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible as she scrolled through the comments.

Her followers were going wild.

“Oh my God, YN, he liked your post!”

“What? Harry Styles actually noticed you?!”

“You’re a legend, girl! This is everything!”

YN’s breath came in shallow gasps. This was bigger than anything that had happened to her before. She had posted countless videos, countless photos, all for this moment. And now, it had happened.

Her heart was still racing when she opened Instagram live. Her fingers hovered over the button. What should she say? How could she even begin to express how overwhelmed she felt?

She hit record.

“Guys,” she said, her voice trembling with excitement. “I don’t even know what to say right now. Harry Styles liked my post. Harry Styles.” She laughed, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. “This is insane. I feel like I’m dreaming.”

She paused, looking directly into the camera. “Do you guys have any idea what this means to me? Like, this is—this is everything. This is all I’ve wanted for so long. I can’t even—”

Her words trailed off as she swiped through the screen, her eyes wide. She had just noticed the comment. A single heart emoji.

From Harry.

“I—” YN’s voice faltered. “Oh my God. He commented. Harry Styles just commented on my livestream!.”

She stared at her screen in disbelief. There was no way this was real. But it was. And it felt like the world was shifting under her feet.

Harry Styles had noticed her.

The next few days passed in a blur. YN couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that Harry Styles had seen her. He had liked her posts, commented on her videos. He had made her feel seen. Not like a fan, but like someone special.

And Harry—Harry couldn’t get her out of his head.

Every notification, every new video she posted, he consumed it with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He started following her more closely, paying attention to the smallest details in her posts. Her likes. Her comments. Where she went. What she did. Everything she shared, Harry took in like a starving man at a feast.

It didn’t take long before he started devising a plan. He could feel the pull, the magnetic attraction that drew him to her. He could feel her energy from miles away, even through a screen.

But that wasn’t enough. He needed more.

He watched her live videos, listened to the way her voice wavered with excitement when she spoke of him. He watched her laugh, heard the way her voice carried when she spoke of her love for him. And in that moment, Harry knew he had to make her feel something deeper.

Something darker.

He began to calculate. Every post she made, every comment, every moment of her life was a clue. Her routines. The coffee shops she frequented. Her favorite spots in the city.

She wasn’t just a fan.

She was a piece of a puzzle.

And Harry was going to put it together.

YN felt like she was floating in a dream, a haze of disbelief. Every time she checked her phone, she saw the same thing. Harry Styles. His name was there in her notifications, like a light guiding her through the madness of her obsession. He had liked her posts. Commented on her videos. Even sent her a heart emoji—his emoji.

She was on cloud nine, and she couldn’t help but smile whenever she thought about it. Her followers were ecstatic. Everyone knew. Everyone was talking about her. YN, the girl Harry Styles noticed.

It wasn’t just the likes and comments. It was the way he watched her. She could feel it, like a weight on her chest. When she posted something new, she checked her notifications more than she should. And there it was—always there. Harry’s eyes on her.

Her room, the one she’d carefully decorated with Harry memorabilia, felt like a shrine, but not just to him. It felt like it was for him, a window into her life. A way for him to see her.

Harry had stopped just liking her posts. He had begun watching her live streams, something YN had been dreaming of but never truly expected. His presence was palpable. She could almost feel his gaze through the screen, like he was right there with her. The thought sent shivers down her spine.

But what did it mean? Was this just a phase? Was Harry really paying attention, or was it just a fleeting moment for him? She wondered if she would wake up one day and realize it was all a dream. No. No, this was real. He had to care.

In the dark of his bedroom, Harry sat back in his chair, phone in hand. His eyes flicked over the screen, watching YN’s every move. Her excitement, her vulnerability, her eagerness to please him. Every post, every comment, was a step deeper into the labyrinth he was creating.

He had started by watching her like any other fan. But something about her had drawn him in. The way she spoke. The way she laughed. The way she seemed real. Not a pretend version of a fan, not just someone fawning over his fame, but someone who truly adored him. No one had adored him like that in a long time.

She was his escape, his secret obsession. Her life was a mosaic of small moments that, when pieced together, painted a clear picture. He could see it all now—the places she went, the routines she followed. She was so predictable, so easily found. And that’s when the dark thoughts started creeping in.

He wasn’t just content with being a distant figure in her life. He needed to be closer. He needed to own her adoration, to control it.

The first step was simple.

Harry sent her a message.

A direct message.

He’d done it casually, almost nonchalantly. He commented on her latest post, then slid into her DMs under the guise of admiration, complimenting her style, her energy. It was a gentle nudge. But the more he messaged, the more it became clear. She wanted him. She needed him. Her responses were quick, eager, every message dripping with excitement. It fed him, fueled the fire inside of him.

They exchanged pleasantries at first. She gushed over how much his music meant to her, how he had been a source of inspiration. Harry watched it all, reading between the lines. She was enamored, yes, but there was something more. She was a fan, but she wanted more. She needed to be noticed.

And he could give that to her. But first, he had to make her feel something else. Something darker.

One night, when the world outside was still and quiet, Harry did something that would push his obsession further into a twisted reality.

He didn’t tell YN. He didn’t send a message. There was no warning.

He simply showed up.

YN’s apartment building wasn’t far from where he was staying. It took him only a few hours to figure out where she lived. It wasn’t hard. The clues were always in plain sight.

When he arrived, he parked his car a few blocks away and walked quietly to her building, his heart hammering in his chest. He wasn’t nervous. He wasn’t scared. But there was something thrilling about being so close to her.

Standing outside her window, he could see her inside, oblivious to the fact that he was watching. She was sitting at her desk, the soft glow of her computer screen illuminating her face as she scrolled through her phone.

Harry stayed hidden, just out of sight. His breath quickened as he watched her. She’s mine, he thought. She just doesn’t know it yet.

He waited until the apartment was dark, until the only light that remained was the dim glow of her bedside lamp. She was ready to sleep.

When she finally stood and moved toward her bed, Harry crept up to her window. He didn’t knock. He didn’t need to.

His fingers wrapped around the ledge of the window, and with a single, practiced motion, he slid it open.

The soft creak of the window didn’t alert her. YN was too lost in her thoughts to notice anything. She was just getting ready for bed, unaware that the man she idolized, the man she felt was just a part of her dreams, was standing in the darkness outside her window, staring at her.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. The view of her room, her soft silhouette against the dim light, her hair falling over her shoulders, her delicate features bathed in the soft glow—it was like a dream. But it was real. He was here. Watching.

He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small vial, the smell of her perfume still lingering on it. He pressed it to his nose, inhaling deeply. Her scent filled his lungs, and for a moment, he felt closer to her than he ever had.

He watched her move to her bed, getting under the covers. His body tensed, heart racing as he took a few steps forward.

The feeling was intoxicating. This was no longer about admiration. This was about ownership. Control. Harry had to make her see him. He had to make her crave him the way he craved her.

He stayed for hours, watching, as YN shifted in her sleep, her body curled under the blankets. He wanted to touch her—just one touch—but he couldn’t. Not yet.

He caressed the glass, the smooth surface cold under his fingertips.

“I’ll be back, and then we’ll be together..” he whispered softly, barely audible.

And then he left.

As Harry retreated into the shadows of the night, his mind raced. He had tasted it now. The power. The control. He had planted a seed, and it would grow.

The game had just begun.

[sissylittlefeather]

I'm sorry this took me a million years to write @sloppiest-of-jos! Anyway, I hope it lives up to what you were wanting!

Searching for You

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, and touch of angst

Word count: ~2.5k

"Elvis, you have a WIFE and a CHILD. Tell me again how you think this could possibly work out?!" Elvis sits in a chair, watching you pace around the room from behind his silver sunglasses.

"Honey, I've told you and told you. Those are my problems, not yours. I love you. I want you." He stands up and walks over to you, taking your hand gently and rubbing small circles on the back of it with his thumb. You look up at him and almost melt. Then, you yank your hand away and walk across the room.

"No! This has gone on for way too long." Memories of how you met on the set of the Singer special in '68 come screaming back to you. You think about him noticing you, a humble back up dancer for the bordello scene. He had walked straight to you and asked your name, not even bothering to pretend like he didn't like you. You'd seen him with the other girls and couldn't believe he was actually talking to you. But something about you caught his attention and he wasn't letting you get away. He invited you up to his dressing room after filming was finished and it didn't take long at all for you to end up naked on the couch, squirming as he brought you pleasure you had only ever dreamed about.

That was two years ago.

No matter how hard the two of you tried, you couldn't stay away from each other. The space between you was electric and you made ways to be together as often as possible, despite his marital status and your guilt. You fell hard and fast for him and he insisted he felt the same way, but he never entertained the possibility of ending his marriage.

On this particular occasion, you pace the floor half-dressed insisting this will be the last time. You're leaving California, removing yourself from the equation, and he is not pleased. Once you pull on the rest of your clothes, you point your shoe at him and yell.

"I'm done, Elvis. I'm done with being your back up girl to keep you company when your wife is gone. It hurts too much."

"Honey, it's not like that! You're the one I want! If anything, she's the back up girl."

"Then why won't you leave her?"

"I-I I can't."

"Yeah." You stuff your shoes on your feet and head for the door. "Goodbye, Elvis."

This isn't the first time you've had this argument, by far, but what Elvis doesn't know is that this time you're really leaving. You pack up all your things with tears streaming down your cheeks and head for home. The drive is long, but you've hit the end of your capacity for loving Elvis like this. You wonder how long it'll take him to figure out you're gone. Will he even care?

******

Elvis gives you two weeks to get over this most recent fight, sure that all he has to do is call you when Priscilla goes out of town. But when he does, your phone's been cut off. He hangs up and looks at the receiver in confusion. Surely you didn't actually leave.

He gets in his car and drives to your apartment. Maybe you've just changed your number and he needs to appeal to you in person. But when he knocks on your door, a man he doesn't recognize answers. He gets over his initial wave of jealousy and asks about you.

"Uh, I'm looking for y/n?"

"No one here by that name. Wait are you-?"

"Thanks." Elvis turns and walks quickly back to his car before the guy can ask him for anything.

When he gets back to his house, he calls all of his Memphis mafia into the living room and gives them an assignment. They need to find you and he wants it done yesterday. The guys all look at each other in mild panic and then head out to see what they can do while Elvis sits on the couch smoking a cigarillo trying to process his shock. You're really gone. Where on earth did you go?

******

After a week of Elvis wracking his brain and the guys bribing neighbors and friends, Sonny finally has a breakthrough.

"I was able to get ahold of her best friend at work."

"Yeah, and?"

"She went home to Kentucky."

"Home to Kentucky. Where in Kentucky?"

"She didn't know, but she said she knew it wasn't far from Nashville." Elvis rolls his eyes.

"What the hell does that even mean?! There are a lot of places in Kentucky that aren't far from Nashville. How does she define far?" Sonny looks at the ground and shakes his head.

"I don't know, boss. That's all she knew."

"Goddamnit." Elvis kicks the nearest table and Sonny looks at him hard.

"Might be time to give up on this one." Elvis meets his eyes with his eyebrows raised and then shakes his head.

"No. She's... no." He turns and heads for his bedroom. When he comes back with a suitcase, Sonny tries to stop him.

"Where you goin'?"

"Well, I guess I'm going somewhere in Kentucky that's not far from Nashville."

"You're really gonna go after her then?"

"Yes." Elvis gets in his car and starts on the road East towards Kentucky and you.

******

When Elvis finally makes it to Kentucky, he drives from small town to small town looking for you. He has a picture of you that he took one night that he shows to people. He has lots of pictures of you, but this is the only one appropriate for public consumption. He thanks God that he thought to take one with your clothes on one time. Honestly, it's his favorite photo of you because it's so naturally beautiful, your smile gentle and your hair a little messy from lovemaking.

The more he looks for you, the more it becomes apparent how much he loves you. He's been saying it for a while, but the emptiness he experiences at not knowing how to find you makes him know exactly how true it is. He loves you so much that he's driving around Kentucky just to find you again. How did he think he could give you up?

He's starting to lose hope when he comes across a preacher in a small town called Franklin. Exhausted and hopeless, he shows him the picture of you.

"That's y/n!"

"Yes!" Elvis looks up, shocked. "Do you know her?"

"Of course I do. I baptized her, didn't I?" Elvis laughs and hugs the man.

"Is she here? Where can I find her?"

"I haven't seen her in a long time, but if she's in town, she'll be at her parents' house." He gives Elvis the address just as it begins to rain. For the first time in weeks, Elvis is filled with hope and he decides he'll do anything to get you back.

He pulls up in front of the address that the preacher gave him and his heart beats wildly. He's so close to being with you again. The steady rain soaks him to the bone and he knocks on your front door and waits for someone to open it.

You see him through the windows and panic. How the hell did he find you here?! You know you won't be able to resist him if he talks to you, so you run outside and jump in your car, backing out of the driveway quickly.

But he sees you and tries to run to the car.

"Honey, wait! I just wanna talk to ya!" You focus on the road ahead and step on the gas to get away. Elvis runs back to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, starting the engine and throwing it in drive. He tries to catch up to you, but you're driving like a crazy person. The rain is still coming down pretty hard and he starts to worry about you driving like this. As you head out of town, your car spins off the road into a ditch and he realizes he was right to be concerned. Thankfully, because of the spinning, you don't hit the ditch too hard. He parks and jumps out of the car to run to you. You manage to get the door open and stumble out.

That's when you feel strong arms around you. The familiarity of them makes you cry and you shake with sobs as he holds you. He stands there in the soft rain, stroking your hair and whispering to you.

"You're okay, honey. I've got you. You're okay." After several minutes of this, you pull away from him and yell.

"What are you doing here Elvis?!"

"I needed to see you."

"Why?!" He pushes a piece of rain-soaked hair behind your ear.

"Because I love you, baby." You look up at him, your eyes wide as the rain continues to fall on you both.

"No! I'm not falling into this with you again!"

"Honey, I drove across the country to find you. Is that not enough to prove that I'm serious?!"

"Where's your wife, Elvis?" He groans and pulls his wedding ring off of his finger.

"I don't care." He turns and throws the ring into the patch of trees and you gasp.

"Elvis, that was worth a lot of money!"

"Maybe, but I don't want it anymore. I don't want her anymore. I want you, ya stubborn brat."

"Why?" He rolls his eyes. His patience is wearing thin as the two of you stand in the cold rain together.

"Because I'm so in love with you I can't even think straight when you're not around."

"I don't believe you."

"Y/n! Do you know how many small towns I've been to in Kentucky looking for you?! I love you so much I can't even imagine my life without you." You contemplate what he's saying. This is a long road to travel for casual sex. Maybe he does love you as much as he says he does, but there's still too many complications.

"How, Elvis-?"

"I'm leaving Priscilla." Your heart stops. Is he serious? "I can't live another minute without you. You're all I think about from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep. Honey, I will do anything to prove to you that I want you and no one else."

You look up at him, your heart so full of love for him that you feel like it might burst.

"You'd really do that? Leave your wife and the mother of your child. For me?"

"Yes. I should never have married her in the first place."

"Elvis..."

"All my life I've been searching for you. I just didn't know it. I should've waited. But I'm here now and I'm telling you. I love you more than life itself. Let me love you, honey."

And then you utter two syllables that will change your life forever.

"Okay." In the blink of an eye, he wraps himself around you, his mouth pressed to yours in a passionate kiss. He grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you so that your legs are around his waist, his lips never leaving yours. The rain has softened, so he carries you to the hood of his car and sets your bottom down. You've never kissed anyone with such fervor before. It's like you're trying to melt into one another with the way you press yourselves together. You arch your back as he rolls his hips forward into you, his erection pushing against you through his pants. He runs his hands up your thighs and pulls your panties down under your mini skirt. His thumb runs up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top and he begins to rub circles there. You drop your head backwards and moan loudly. Without another thought, you unzip his pants and pull his cock out, stroking it slowly with your hand. He groans and kisses down your neck, while you pull him to you and run the tip of his dick up and down your entrance. He mutters against your lips.

"You're such a tease, honey."

"Yeah, but you love me."

"God, I really do. So fucking much." He thrusts his hips forward and pushes into you, almost filling you in one motion. You cry out with pleasure when he does and lean back against the car. He pulls out and thrusts forward again, grunting. This time his hips meet yours as his entire cock is inside you. He makes a sound that's somewhere between a whimper and a moan and begins to slide in and out of you, pounding you to the steady rhythm of the rain.

The sensation of him slamming against you is enough to push you over the edge and you tumble headfirst into an intense orgasm, moaning and writhing and pulsing around him.

"Fuck, honey, I love you." You pull him down on top of you and whisper in his ear.

"I love you too." It's the first time you've ever said it back to him. He whimpers and kisses down your neck to your cleavage, never changing his steady pace of pumping into you. You can tell by the way his thrusting becomes more erratic that he's getting close too.

Finally, he slams into you hard and shudders against you, filling you with ropes of cum. It's also the first time he's ever cum inside you: another indicator that he's serious about you.

The rain has slowed to a drizzle as he collapses on top of you, spent and breathing heavily. He slides out of you and stands up, pulling you into a sitting position on the hood of his car.

"Come home with me, honey." He kisses your cheek affectionately and then backs up to look you in the eye, his blues ones seeing straight through to your soul. You couldn't tell him no even if you wanted to.

"I gave up my apartment."

"I want you to live with me." You raise your eyebrows.

"You still have a wife."

"I won't for long. I'll buy us a house. Just please say you'll come home with me." You nod and lean your forehead against his chest.

"I'm yours, Elvis." He tips your chin up to look at him.

"And I'm yours." He kisses your lips tenderly. "Now come on. Let's get out of the rain."

He drives you back to your parents' house, where you both change into dry clothes and settle on the couch together. Surprisingly, he's perfectly comfortable there with your mom and dad. He stays for a few days with you, letting you give him the grand tour of your hometown. Eventually, you head back to California together. Your car is totaled, so he promises to buy you a new one once you get home.

He wastes no time in leaving Priscilla and starting divorce proceedings. In the meantime, he buys the two of you a cozy little love nest and you're perfectly happy there with him.

The Kentucky rain was a baptism of sorts and you both came out of it changed for the better. It's not always smooth sailing, he is Elvis Presley after all, but you're happy more often than not. You never run away again, though you know he'd chase you if you did. And every time it rains, he holds you close and you remember the cold Kentucky rain.

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

[willows-peak]

*･ﾟ✧ Sharing Is Caring

tags: fem! reader, like a sprinkle of porn with plot, movie night, implied satosugu, dirty talk, its just all dirty talk, geto is thick asf, geto is fucking you in gojo's lap, petnames (baby, princess, sweetheart, honey, pretty girl)

MDNI

word count: 2k

a/n: i was in the mood to write dirty talk passed out then this appeared on my screen

⋆｡˚ ♡ Tonight really had started simple, with you coming over to Geto's apartment for a movie night, only to be surprised by Gojo greeting you at the door. And while you were always happy to see him as well, you've noticed that the two could get a little… Competitive with you. It was common knowledge that the two of them had a crush on you, and you did with them. Instead of the three of you saying anything out loud, the two men had turned it into a game of sorts on who could be the center of attention when you were with them. 

Thankfully, their competitions were never too serious nor staked on anything. Simple couples banter half the time, with the winner only earning bragging rights. So, of course you'd assumed tonight would be the same, when Geto started rolling his eyes when a sex scene came onto the movie you three had picked. “She's not even enjoying that, come on.” He'd scoff, hand underneath his chin and elbow resting on his thigh. 

“Oh yeah, right there!!” Gojo called out mockingly, earning a laugh from Geto while you sat silently. You couldn't exactly tell what she was doing ‘bad’ at, if you were being honest. “Is she really that bad at acting?” You chirped up, making both of them nod simultaneously. “No girl is ever that loud, trust me.” Geto confirmed, turning his body to face you and Gojo. You smiled up at him at how swiftly he shut your questioning down “You seem awfully confident with that, you almost made me think you've ever gotten pussy.”

Geto raised his brows at you, raising his head from his hand and leaning back on the couch, eyes shifting from your lips to your eyes before speaking up. “I haven't? That's funny, I didn't know you were a liar. Does she lie like that to you too, Satoru?” Geto chimed, smiling coyly over at the white haired boy. “Damn, she caught you red handed Sugu’.” Geto rolled his eyes before meeting your faze once again “I know what I'm talking about when I say that she's not getting fucked good.”

His tone, while the same as it was earlier, carried a certain weight to it when he said that. His smile failed to meet his eyes, which were staring straight through you as he watched for your reaction. A million things came and went by in your mind as you stared back at him, feeling frozen under him by how he looked at you. “She doesn't look too convinced.” Gojo laughed.

There really wasn't a good way of responding to him, was there? He said it so plainly, like it was a given fact, that you couldn't come up with anything to actually go against him. Well, one thing did come to mind, though it wasn't going to be your best work. 

“Prove it.”

.

You didn't mean to come across so bluntly with what you said, but it was too late to take it back. And from the grin that made its way onto Geto's face, you have a sneaking suspicion that that's what he wanted you to say.

Which led to right now. Where Gojo was keeping you snug in his lap, your bare back against his steadily rising and falling chest. His fingers spreading your pussy apart for the man in front of you two, who was so slowly grinding himself against you, hands sturdying on your hips. Gojo's middle finger slowly stroked your clit in rhythm with Geto's grinds, your resulting whimpers making the two men chuckle.

"Stop teasin’ her, Suguru.." Gojo spoke quietly, not wanting to tarnish the silent scene in front of him with his voice. Geto grinned up at him and angled his hips back, just enough for the tip of his cock to press against your hole. "Don't tell me how to fuck, Satoru" He shot back, watching how you squirm under him as he pushes himself inside of you, agonizingly slow. 

Inch by inch, you could feel yourself stretching to accommodate his size. Your hands came to grip at Gojo's thighs as you took your time getting used to Geto inside you. Gojo muttered curses under his breath as he watched Geto disappear inside of you, his cock being replaced by a small bulge at the bottom of your stomach. "I know, baby, I know. It feels like he’s fuckin' tearing you open the first time, doesnt it?" Gojo pressed the finger on your clit down more as he whispered, making your pussy tighten around the last inch of Geto. "That's right, gooood giiirrrl....I knew you could do it." Geto cooed, tipping your chin up to meet his eyes.

You shivered from his gaze, intense and relishing in the doe-ish look you had on you. "How's he feel, princess?" Gojo asked, smile audible when you made a broken moan in response. "S’ big.." You whined, sucking in air through your teeth as Geto pulled his hips back. "Fuck me, you're tight.." Geto stumbled out, your pussy almost choking out his cock if he so much as twitched. 

"Relax, honey, you're doing so good.. Just breathe with me, in and out." His tone was so soft, so easy to follow that you found your body obeying before your mind could catch up. He let out a low laugh as he watched your chest shakily fall up and down, feeling his dick grow harder at your obedience. 

"Innn and out, pretty girl, don't stop." Geto praised, moving his hand down your body to right below your stomach as he started thrusting, in time with your breathing. You gasped as he moved, his hips smooth and deep and just enough to make your head feel full of air. 

Your voice stumbled clumsily out of your mouth, moaning and panting from his thickness. "Shit..." Gojo whispered, his dick throbbing up against the restraints of his pajama pants (why did he have them on still? It may or may not be because he was too eager to see your naked body that he has the sense to strip himself) 

He continued whispering swears and encouragements to you as he squeezed his fingers inwards, around Geto's cock shifting out of you. Geto's slow and deep pace was no longer so gentle, every thrust inside you coming fast and hard, your body lighting up with sensitivity and pleasure before he'd take his time pulling out of you. 

It was difficult to think, much less speak at the rhythm he was moving inside you, especially with Gojo's own moans filling your ear, his fingers now rubbing quick circles against your clit. You could feel his cock humping up against your ass, too, a light wet spot beginning to form at the point where his dick grinded against his pants. 

"So good for us, shit- makin' me sweat for this pussy...come on sweetheart, lemme show you how good you can feel" Geto's husky and smooth voice was almost lost on your ears, your mind torn between focusing on Gojo behind you, or the way you could feel every vein and bump and how deliciously they were rubbing right against your walls. 

You nodded dumbly, not bothering to ask what he meant and just wanting this to get better. Geto's smile grew wider at your eagerness, shifting his hand to squeeze at the flesh of your ass before lifting your hips up, your upper half falling back against Gojo's chest and making your tummy squish against itself.

Gojo let out a low groan at how much your pussy stretched around Geto, a thin ring of cream beginning to form around the base of his dick and sticking to the thin hairs decorating his lower stomach. "Make her cum, Satoru, want you to watch her squirt" Geto said, his tone breathless as he spread his thighs apart. 

"Don't tell me what to do, Suguru" Gojo mocked, a cheeky smile finding its way to his lips when Geto gave him an unamused stare. Geto's eyes fell back onto where the two of you met, biting his lip and blowing out a breath before reeling his hips back, a loud slap of skin echoing through the room as he thrusted back into you. 

You yelped as he squeezed your ass again, yanking your hips forward to meet his thrusts, sweat starting to form over your body from the heat between Geto and Gojo. Gojo, who was bringing you quicker and quicker to orgasm with his lithe fingers rubbing expert circles around your clit while pumping his leaking cock inside his pants, and Geto, who was fucking you so deep and making your breath catch so much that you could feel yourself getting dizzy. 

You could feel yourself growing tense, your orgasm feeling so close yet so far as Geto's cock was taking over any conscious thought you could hope to have. "That’s right, take this fucking dick, like you're made to-" He grunted out, feeling your pussy tighten sporadically.

"You close baby? Shit- Yeah you are, pussy's trying to keep me in... Cum for me, make a fucking mess for us-" Geto egged on, hips angling up to aim his thrusts against your g-spot. You gasped and moaned loudly, feeling the tightness in your belly finally break as your orgasm flooded your senses entirely. You whined and squeaked helplessly as your pussy throbbed harshly, wave after wave of pleasure consuming you as neither Geto's hips nor Gojo's fingers slowed or stopped. You couldn't even try to muffle yourself, your arms shaking too hard against Gojo's thighs as you came around Geto. 

Gojo's orgasm seemed to come almost immediately after yours started to simmer down, his eyes locking with the growing mess on Geto's stomach and the drips of cum falling down his balls to the bed sheets underneath you two. 

"Fuck yes, take his fucking cock baby, oh my g-god yes-" Gojo sloppily stammered, the orgasm making his body fold into itself as his cum covered his hand. Your eyes began to roll back into your skull from how expertly they were seeming to break you down, your pussy feeling looser and impossibly wetter to Geto.

 "Keep moaning, princess, say my fucking name- Just like that, make me cum inside this pussy" Sweat was forming and dripping down his brow from the strain it took to keep going, his abs clenching and his thighs tensing as his hips moved at a quick and hard pace. Gojo, mercifully, stopped his onslaught on your clit and instead let his hand travel downwards to where Geto was fucking you. 

His fingers collected some of your cum and wetness mixed together, using it as lube to stroke the now bulging vein that sat underneath of Geto's cock. "Cum inside her, make her know who's pussy this is, Suguru-" Gojo was almost pleading from his tone, still reeling from the orgasm he gave himself and how his cock was half hard already from your loud moans and whimpers. 

Geto could barely make another buck into you before he came, hard, inside you. His hips came slamming down into you as rope after rope of cum emptied inside you, your body slowly coming back to reality and focusing on the warmth filling you. You could feel the way his balls emptied below your hole, where they rested as Geto sloppily rode out his orgasm, twitching and thrusting himself as deep as possible inside your welcoming pussy, before pulling out slowly.

You whimpered breathily as you felt the veins of his cock dragging out against your sensitive walls, weakly tightening around his softening cock. “Come on baby, don’ be greedy..” Geto spoke, low and smooth as he rubbed his thumb across your cheek gently. Two other hands came to wrap around your middle as you relaxed against Geto's hand, your stomach and waist being caressed tenderly. “Did so well, sweetheart, so proud of you..” Geto praised, kissing your temple as you smiled warmly up at him.

“..C'n we do this more often?” You asked quietly, Gojo giggling into your shoulder as Geto paused to consider your request. “If you're willing to go back on what you said about me, then of course.” You scoffed and pushed at his chest lightly in retaliation. “Absolutely not.” 

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 11

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

guys im running out of gifs to use ffs

despite that, HELLO!! i am more than 100% certain that you adorable feral little cretins are going to love this chapter holy fk. like i'm actually so excited to see your reactions/comments LOLL

i apologise for the long, long wait, however i wanted to perfect this part, it was really important that i did, otherwise it would be a waste, and kind of cringe. i won't keep you any longer <3

thank you for reading, i hope you enjoy this!! and again, thank you soooo much for all your replies and reblogs and likes they just make me smile all the time, i really cannot believe that people like this, i'm still flabbergasted.

warnings: 18+ further down, minors DNI after the big red *'s. i also put a sign to say where it ends if you're not comfortable reading such things!

if i was any good at coding i'd cover it up, you know how people do on discord, like that spoiler thing. but alas, i am but a technophobe.

(this song is very important during that certain scene so if you will, please listen to it as you read <;3)

onwards and upwards...

Severus stood beside Dumbledore, his hands hanging at his sides, fingers fidgeting thoughtfully at the seams of his his black slacks. Before he was able to speak a reply to the Headmaster, a voice he had hoped he'd never hear again pierced the blanketed silence in the Great Hall. For a moment, both his heart and stomach dropped as he turned his head toward the irritating voice, jaw clenching almost immediately.

"Y/N!" None other than Benjamin Bluewater had called out, his ridiculously well-groomed hair bouncing as he jogged towards you. Severus felt a burning blaze of rage prickle his skin as his eyes observed how Bluewater embraced your rigid form, clearly in shock at his sudden appearance. What the hell was he doing here?

"Ben-" Severus heard you gasp as Bluewater pulled away from you, his hands flying up to cradle your cheeks intimately. Something Severus had done less than an hour ago. The jealousy that was raging inside of Snape was lethal, and he was desperately fighting the urge to rip you from Bluewater's slimy grasp and tuck you within the safe haven of his arms.

Your fearful eyes met Snape's icy ones, setting a kaleidoscope of butterflies free in his stomach. He could tell you were quietly begging him for help, however, he refused to get involved. The last thing he wanted to do was seem suspicious and perhaps trigger an unnecessary reaction from Bluewater. Snape remembered how volatile the boy could be, he served enough detentions with him. In fact, that was one thing that Severus was worried about. He wasn't sure if you knew about his bad temper.

"Are you alright? I came at once when I heard about Black getting into Hogwarts." Bluewater said, his overly-concerned voice dripping with worry. Something didn't sit right with Severus as he watched the two of you. Why didn't Bluewater visit when you had been attacked by a dementor? How does that not warrant a visit but this does? A deep, frustrated sigh left Snape's nose as Ben's thumbs brushed against the apples of your cheeks. Your hands reluctantly rose to sit atop of his forearms, silently soothing his worries.

"Wha-what are you... how...?" You stuttered, cheeks ablaze. You had to take a moment to compose yourself, and it didn't help that Severus's fiery eyes were burning holes into you. Inhaling slowly, you spoke again. "What are you doing here? How did you even get in?"

"Well, it helps when you work at the Ministry of Magic," Bluewater shrugged, a proud, smug smirk teasing his lips. His hands fell from your cheeks and settled on your waist, squeezing you a tad. You tensed up again as you glanced at Severus, your heart going a million miles an hour. Bluewater frowned as he followed your eyes, a flash of surprise crossing his features as he finally noticed the two of you weren't alone. "Erm... Headmaster, Professor... Snape." He greeted awkwardly, offering a nod. Snape wasn't keen on acknowledging him, however, Dumbledore kept it polite, smiling at the boy.

"A lovely surprise, Mr Bluewater." Dumbledore said. It had sounded sarcastic, but that was unintentional.

Severus stared at Bluewater with cold eyes, his gaze slowly falling to where his hands sat comfortably on your waist, taunting him. His mouth twitched bitterly. "How you've grown, Mr Bluewater," Snape commented slyly, his sharp eyes flicking back up to meet Bluewater's. "It feels like only yesterday you were causing chaos here at Hogwarts. More specifically in my classroom." He drawled, eyes narrowing in contempt.

An incredulous huff slipped from Bluewater's nose and a sarcastic grin broke out on his face; his grip on your waist tightening. The jealous fire in Severus exploded. Clearly, there was unresolved conflict between these two.

"I see you've remained the same, Snape." He quipped sharply, tongue like a sword. Severus turned his back to you and Bluewater, his shoulders stiffening as he muttered something to Dumbledore.

There was an awkward silence that fell upon the four of you.

You turned to Ben, keeping your voice low. "Look, I think it's best if you leave." You muttered, an uncomfortable expression slipping onto your face. You nibbled on your bottom lip.

"I'm not leaving until I know where Black is, I need to keep you safe." Ben laughed dryly, his eyes narrowing at you in disbelief. Oh no, no-no-no. He had to leave, there was no way he could stay.

"I'm perfectly safe here," you attempted to reassure him, "I'm surrounded by some of the most talented witches and wizards to ever exist, Ben." An incredulous chuckle fell from your lips as you spoke, a little surprised that he deemed Hogwarts unsafe. How could it be unsafe when Dumbledore was here? Despite that, you couldn't risk him noticing the tension between you and Snape, it wouldn't look good on either of you.

He looked at you with a stiff expression, his gaze flicking to where Snape and Dumbledore stood, eyes hardening as he stared. You glanced away awkwardly.

"I'll stay here until I deem it so, Y/N." Ben said rather sternly, making your brows shoot up in shock. Since when was he like this? This was not the Ben you knew.

"Sorry?" You choked.

"The Ministry gets the final say, irregardless of what you or Hogwarts thinks." Ben tilted his head at you as he stared down at you. "I'm staying." His serious tone of voice made you back down and nod, your lips pursed. There was nothing you could say or do to change his mind.

Shit.

Shit, indeed.

Two knocks sounded at Snape's door, and he audibly sighed, a little vexed that someone had chosen to come and bother him when he'd just settled down - his raging jealousy had finally subdided after two hours of brooding in his office.

"Come in." Snape grunted from his desk, piles of parchment and books surrounding him messily. Usually he was neat, organised - but tonight was rather exasperating. He just about managed to watch another man with his hands all over you.

"Severus," Minerva McGonagall's voice made Snape's head snap up, a startled look adopting his features. He definitely was not expecting the Head of Gryffindor House to be knocking at his door. "I'm sorry to impede, however, I wanted to chat with you. Regarding Y/N." She sighed, her wrinkled lips pouting. His body suddenly felt heavier.

"What about Professor L/N?" Severus asked curtly, looking back down at the pile of assignments in front of him like he had no interest in the subject.

"I wasn't born yesterday, Severus," Minerva said, a stern look taking hold of her face. Snape's jaw ticked, his fingers stiffening in irritation. He sighed and glanced back up at the older witch, waiting for her to continue her lecture. "You need to be careful. She's just a girl." She said softly and stepped forwards a tad, linking her fingers together in front. Why was he getting lectured when he's been the one trying to push you away? Well, he was. Now, all he wanted to do was pull you close to him.

"This is no concern of yours,  Minerva." Severus's brows furrowed harshly, his voice clipped and cold. Minerva's eyes narrowed; his tone rubbing her the wrong way.

"It concerns me when it starts to affect my colleagues." Minerva retorted, her patience wearing thin. She knew this was going to be a hard conversation, especially with someone like Severus. "I just want you to consider things before you cross that line, Severus. This isn't... wise."

It isn't wise? Well, who would've thought that? Not me, apparently, Severus growled in his mind, sighing heavily through his nostrils as he stared at Minerva.

"You think I don't know that?" Severus groaned, shutting his eyes as he reached up to massage his temples. He felt a headache coming on; all this stress wasn't good for him.

There was several seconds of quiet before Minerva spoke again, voice soft. "Do you care for her?"

He kept silent once again.

Minerva felt for Severus, she knew what it was like to care for someone and to have to push them away. In fact, it felt horribly and hauntingly familiar. This was like a walk down memory lane for her. Her head tilted slightly, her eyes softening as she stared at the Potions Master who had his eyes glued to his desk, palms splayed out atop of it as he intensely read through an essay. "I do not want your pity, Minerva," Severus hissed, his head snapping up, a face full of anger, "I have walked down this road before, and I know how it ends. So please, save your sorry for someone else."

Minerva was so used to Snape's flick-of-a-switch emotions that she hardly flinched at his sudden outburst. "Alright." A soft sigh left her as she glanced away from him, her fingers flexing. There was nothing left to say, she knew that Severus knew the risks with you. And you knew the risks with him. For now, she could only let things play out, she wasn't going to play God. If the two of you wanted to do it, who was she to stop it?

"I have a lot of work to complete." Severus grunted, his shoulders hunching up as he sat closer to his desk, burying his nose further into the parchment. Minerva exhaled softly through her nostrils and her lips pouted together again. She blinked, turning around to leave.

As her fingers grasped the rickety door handle, she looked over her shoulder at Snape. "Should you and Y/N choose to take such a risk, Severus," she began, earning another exhausted sigh from him, "don't break her heart. She doesn't deserve to go through that pain. Not at such a young age."

Severus's eyes faltered a tad as he glazed over the messy handwriting laced upon the parchment sat in front of him, as if it were goading him. His breath hitched slightly at her words. Minerva had a point. A very, irritatingly valid point. Severus cared for you - a lot. However, now he found himself questioning whether it was enough - whether he was enough for you. He couldn't pour his whole self into a relationship with you if it wasn't that - his whole self. Were you better off with Bluewater? He could probably treat you better than Severus ever could. Bluewater was young, handsome, somewhat smart... he also had a very good job at the Ministry... Severus was but a teacher, and he was old. Why would you ever settle for someone like him when a boy like Bluewater existed?

The click of his door told him that Minerva had left. Severus buried his face in his hands, his heart twisting and knotting itself as it yearned for you.

Rolling over in your bed, your unwearied eyes skimmed your darkened room, landing on the clock that was hung on the wall. Almost eleven o'clock at night. Ben stirred beside you, the bed creaking and groaning as he shuffled to right, away from you, burying his cheek in the pillow. You glanced at him and sighed, your mind wandering to the thought of Severus. You wondered what he was doing right now. Was he awake or asleep? No, he was definitely awake, that man never slept.

Severus.

Gods, you adored that man. You weren't exactly sure what it was that drew you to him, but perhaps it was just his aura; it was so dark, mysterious. The way the two of you bantered so easily, the conversation flowed like a river and it felt natural, whereas, with Ben... it was... well, it just felt artificial - forced, almost. It wasn't a secret that the chemistry and tension between you and Severus was incredibly palpable - even Minerva had noticed, and suddenly that made you panic - what if Ben notices? Other teachers? The students had even noticed last year when Severus had helped you up the steps when duelling Lockhart. He won't notice, will he? No, he won't be here long enough to.

Hopefully.

You rolled over in your bed again and noticed that Ben had turned back towards you, so the two of you were face to face now. You tucked your hands up and underneath your chin, allowing yourself to stare at his features in the dark. As you laid there, staring, breathing soft and slow, your heart skipped a beat as he shifted slightly; the shadow that was cast against his face suddenly transforming him intosomeone else. Suddenly, he'd grown long, obisidian black hair that framed his face perfectly, his basic nose had become hooked and prominent, his cheekbones turned more defined.

You sucked in a sharp, yet soft breath - careful to keep quiet so you didn't wake Ben - your skin prickling with goosebumps. Was this how hung up you were on Severus? So much so that if you stared too long at someone, they'd turn into him?

Your hand slowly rose to drag itself against your face. Glancing at the clock again, you knew you weren't falling asleep any time soon. You'd been laid there for at least two or so hours, tossing and turning, begging for your brain to shut off so you could perhaps get some sort of shut-eye. So, you chose to get out of bed. Flipping open the duvet, the biting cold of your room enveloped you; a chill shooting down your figure. You shivered slightly as you sat up and twisted yourself on your bum so your legs hung down over the side of the bed. It creaked slightly as you leant forwards to put your slippers on, prompting you to quickly glance behind you to check if it woke Ben - thankfully, it didn't. With a quick exhale of relief, you spun stepped out of bed and padded quietly over to your sofa where your favourite comfy, deep green cardigan was resting over the arm of it.

You picked it up and slipped it on, wrapping the warm, soft and cosy garment around yourself. Headed towards your door, you threw once last look at Ben and clicked open your door, shutting it calmly, making your way down to the one place you only wanted to go at this time of night.

The mossy, damp smell of the dungeons invaded your nostrils angrily, almost making you cough. You forgot how bad the smell could get down here during the autumn and winter months. The cool chill seeped through your wool cardigan, making you pull it tighter against your frame, hurriedly trying to keep every bit of warmth around you before it escaped.

As you neared that certain door, you lingered by it, raising your knuckles hesitantly.

With a stern sigh, you knocked, and awaited his usual grunt of acknowledgement.

"Come in." Came an annoyed tone from the inside just as you expected. You bit the inside of your cheek as you creaked open the door and slipped inside.

"Erm, hi," You squeaked out, closing the door shut behind you and pressing your back against it, staring awkwardly at Severus, who was still sat behind his desk, head down. "What are you doing up so late?" The sound of your voice made him look up, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"I could ask you the same thing, Miss L/N," Severus mused. You couldn't help but smile coyly at him, padding forwards to move closer, your skin tingling with anticipation. "So, what brings you here?" Severus asked, his voice curious, yet there was also a hint of coldness to it. You assumed it was because he was tired - or at least hoped it was that.

"I couldn't sleep." You hummed, folding your arms against your body, the silk skirt of your yellow nightdress shimmering in the low, amber light. Severus found himself glimpsing down at your garment; the sheen of the smooth, rich fabric catching his attention. Your cheeks suddenly simmered from the way his eyes glazed over you.

He looked back up at you. "So, you chose to bother me instead?" Severus quirked a brow.

"Precisely." You smiled bashfully, a quiet laugh slipping from your mouth as you rocked back and forth on your heels, your eyes leaving his to glance nervously around his gloomy classroom.

"How lucky I am." He said sarcastically, leaning back in his chair. Your smile stayed on your face as you rolled your eyes, stomach flipping at his voice.

"It feels weird that almost a year ago, we were in here, brewing that Mandrake potion together." You commented as your eyes fell on the exact desk the two of you had stood at.

Severus's eyes followed yours. "Indeed," he spoke, gazing back at you as you were distracted, taking a moment to admire you. His heart skipped a beat as the corners of your lips quirked upwards into another sheepish smile. Though, he soon felt indifferent to it as the thought of Bluewater slipped into his mind. "That was also the time we spoke about... your friend." Severus added, tutting at the end as if he had to force himself to spit that word out.

"Oh, right, yeah," you said awkwardly, clearing your throat, "you two still seem to absolutely despise each other." You looked at Severus, a rush of butterflies surging through you as you found his inquisitive eyes already glued to you.

Severus only grunted in response, clearly unwilling to talk about Ben. His body stiffened and his eyes had hardened. "Who would have thought that he'd come back to haunt me later on." He huffed, voice soaked in sarcasm. You had to force yourself to keep a straight face, unsure of how he'd react if a smile broke out on your face. You didn't exactly want to get into an argument right now. "I was foolish to think that he'd had enough causing me grief every single period that we shared."

"He was just a boy back then." An amused hum left your lips, though Severus didn't share the same outlook. His face had become stony again, unfeeling.

"He is still a boy now." Severus spat, like the idea of Ben was poison in his mouth. "He's young, barely twenty-three. He has a lot to learn."

"Am I just a girl to you, then?" You tilted your head at Severus, a tiny smile picking at the corner of your lips. You were twenty-two, almost twenty-three - a whole lot younger than Severus.

He stayed silent for a moment, staring at you, studying your gleeful little face. You suddenly felt a little vulnerable and so you averted your eyes to the ground, your face hot and embarrassed.

"Far from it." He sighed, eyes still glued on you. No, you were so much more to him than you could imagine. He couldn't tell you that though. Not when you had a chance at true happiness with someone that suited you better than an old, ugly git such as himself. "You're a grown woman, you've proven that." His reply had you shocked. You were not expecting such a response, in fact, you were actually expecting a dig, or even a petty insult. Your stomach felt a little heavier as you frowned at him, your eyes gently and slowly dissecting his worn features.

"Oh?" Your voice slipped up an octave as you were caught a little off-guard. "What, err, makes you say that?"

"I don't think I need to explain my reasoning. You're an intelligent woman, no need to spoon-feed you." Severus said simply with a slow blink, his glittering black eyes staring into yours, prompting your cheeks to burn even hotter. You forgot how beautifully hypnotising those two pools of inky-black were as you stared into them, almost losing yourself again.

"It feels weird to hear you compliment me." A gentle laugh left your lips. Severus's own lips tugged upwards slightly, the smallest hint of a smile appearing on his usually-cold face. A comfortable, yet partially awkward silence hung in the air for a moment. You stepped forwards once more, shuffling closer to Severus's desk, almost a foot away from him now. You looked down at the piles of assignments in front of him, curious. "May I?" You asked quietly, gesturing to them. He nodded.

You picked one up and began to read.

'Amortentia is the strongest known love potion in the world. Amor is a Latin word meaning ''Love'', it is also the name of the Roman goddess of love. ''Tentia'' is the Latin for ''held''. It makes the drinker become infatuated and obsessed.'

"I remember this," you smiled, eyes still glued to the parchment, "fourth years, correct?" You looked back to Severus, who was currently staring at you with such soft eyes that you almost melted right on the spot. You had to clear your throat to attempt to compose yourself, though it was truly in vain. It hadn't helped.

"Correct." He muttered, still staring at you, inducing a shiver of goosebumps to erupt on your skin. Your breath hitched slightly as you gripped the parchment tighter, never breaking contact with his eyes. A sharp pain suddenly shot through your finger.

"Ouch," You gasped, the essay falling to the ground as you let go of it, rushing to grab your injured finger. Severus's brows furrowed at you.

"Are you alright?" He cast a glimpse at your finger that you were now squeezing tight, a tiny spot of blood beginning to dribble down it.

"Mhm, just a cut, I think I accidentally cut myself on something that was stuck to the paper." You laughed awkwardly, a little embarrassed as you flipped it over to see a shard of glass stuck to it in a sticky substance. You placed the parchment back onto his desk and looked down at your finger. A scarlet liquid was beginning to ooze out, and fast. You exhaled, feeling a little woozy. Blood was never your strong suit - as a matter of fact, you hated it. The sight of it always made you feel so lightheaded.

Severus noticed your unusual behaviour and quickly rose from his seat, rushing to your side. "Let me," He sighed softly, his hands taking ahold of yours, an electric jolt shooting through you. Your breath hitched once more as you glanced up at him, your wide, doe-like eyes meeting his sparkling obsidian ones. Severus felt like he couldn't breathe for a moment. He was trapped in your eyes, the buzz filling his body up like a drug. You drew him in so easily, and it didn't help that you were excruiatingly even more beautiful up close. The moonlight did you no justice in that greenhouse.

Forcing himself to tear his eyes from yours, he reluctantly looked back down to your injured finger, retrieving his wand from his sleeve. The moment he'd taken your hand in his, his mind went insane. There was no other feeling like it. Merlin, he wished he could experience that moment all over again.

"Does it hurt?" He asked, voice quiet, aiming the tip of his wand over the cut. You hadn't looked away from him once.

"No." You whispered. Severus's head shot up, his worried eyes meeting yours instantly. A warmth spread throughout his body, engulfing him. The two of you were so close, sheer milimetres apart. So close that if one of you leaned forwards even the tiniest amount, the tips of your noses could touch. He needed to stop getting himself into these situations with you, he wasn't going to get over you if you kept ending up inches apart.

His hot breath was on familiar territory again, tickling your pink cheeks, caressing your jaw. Like you were pulled forwards, you found yourself gradually leaning toward him with parted lips, testing the water as you brushed the tip of your nose against his larger one; soft eyes flicking between his lips and his two pools of black. You hesitated, waiting for Severus to respond, your heart thundering against your ribs like a starved lion locked within a cage.

His wand-holding hand faltered slightly, the tip tickling your palm as it grazed your skin; your creeping presence sending his own heart racing. A soft gasp left you as it touched your hand. Severus's mind was fighting desperately for him to pull away, to save you and him the heartache. Perhaps months ago, he'd listen. However, having you so close to him, so vulnerable and soft-looking, he couldn't help himself. Against the wishes of his mind, he tipped his head forwards with half-lidded eyes, nudging the side of your nose with his. Every bone in his body was screaming at him to pull away, to push you away to spare his heart. He knew he wouldn't be able to deal with the aftermath if you suddenly decided one day that he wasn't enough for you anymore. However, he decided that you were entirely worth the risk in this current moment.

You swallowed and allowed a hand to slip up onto his chest, your fingers splaying out slightly across the broad area. With a slow, controlled inhale, your eyes fluttered open to look up at his through your lashes. His tongue poked out sheepishly, wetting his lips as the two of you stared at one another, waiting for the other to make the first move.

He shuffled forwards once more, your lids fluttering shut as Severus pressed a soft and slow kiss against your lips. It was gentle, sweet and reserved. Tender, tickling you like butterfly wings. A warmth bloomed in your chest and your body leaned in instinctively towards his, silently begging him for more. As Severus pulled away, your eyes were still shut.

"Kiss me again," you whispered, "please."

The last word was all the encouragement he needed from you.

Severus leaned in once more, pressing another gentle kiss against your lips, another buzz of electrifying warmth sweeping through the two of you. It suddenly felt as if the world had stopped turning, like you'd been shot into another dimension as Severus held you close, his cool skin a great contrast against your burning skin. Your shallow breaths hitched once more as he sheathed his wand back up his sleeve, a hand coming to rest tenderly against your cheek; cradling your face like it was the most precious thing in the world as he kissed you. A part of you was melting at how gentle and soft he was being with you, and the other, wilder part was begging him to deepen the kiss; to just take control of you and show you how much you truly meant to him.

Your cardigan had slipped off of your shoulder as you leaned into his tender touch, exposing your skin to the chilly, damp air of his classroom sending a shivering chill through your body. Your other hand quickly snaked up his strong chest to meet your opposing one. After a moment, they found themselves nestled around his neck, a speck of blood staining his white collar from your finger as you grazed past it. Severus's other hand swiftly made its way to your waist and pulled you close, his body desperate to become drunk in your warmth once more. A soft moan bubbled in your throat as Severus peppered gentle kisses against you, pleading him to go further.

Almost immediately, he caved at the sound of you, his fingers digging into your clothed-flesh, any feeling of guilt fleeing from your body. Gods, you were so wrong, Ben was nothing compared to Severus. Ben never made you feel an ounce of the way that he did - you couldn't remember a time where Ben had touched your body the way he did, nor a time where Ben had kissed your lips as he did.

The two of you had become lost within each other as you made out sloppily in his classroom, his hands gripping you so deeply that the worries of Severus leaving bruises upon your supple skin had vanished from your mind. In fact, deep down, you were hoping he did. The way his hands held your body was heavenly, other-worldly.

You were a little embarrassed at how easily you folded with this man.

Severus's current state of mind was the total opposite of yours. In his head, all he heard was the constant chant of something telling him to stop. He pushed past it, drowning the voices out with harsher kisses, forcefully grabbing you tighter, pulling another moan from your lips. His conversation with Minerva from earlier began to rear its head within his own, torturing him. His stomach twisted awfully, and suddenly there was a bad taste in his mouth.

What the hell was he doing? You were seeing someone.

You were seeing someone.

Is this how pathetic and utterly sad he was? That he immediately latched onto you because he finally felt appreciated, wanted? For once, he didn't feel like a burden to the world. He felt validated, desired, perhaps even loved - everything he had ever wanted when he was younger. Your soft touches sent him spiralling, and he couldn't escape this maze of uncertainty. Did you truly feel something for him or was this some sort of sick, twisted fantasy you had? Were you just taking advantage of him? Was he so easy to be manipulated? He hoped not, he'd worked incredibly hard to get ahold of his emotions; imprisoning them. And you were breaking those thick walls down like dominoes.

"Severus, you're hurting me," Your voice suddenly whined, tearing him from his thoughts as your fingers touched his shaking hand that was gripping your hipbone like a merciless vice. Almost immediately, he released you from his grasp and stepped away, turning his back to you ashamedly. Several seconds of silence passed through the pair of you, your fingers lingering on the sore area, gently rubbing it in an attempt to soothe the ache. "Are you okay?" You kept your voice quiet and soft, careful not to startle him. He clearly wasn't in a good state of mind.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his head drooping, "I shouldn't have kissed you." Severus slowly turned around, his body parallel to yours, a solemn look upon his features. "It was wrong of me, and I was selfish." Severus added, his lips molding into that familiar, emotionless flat line as he stared at you. You frowned and reached your hand out to him, however, he shied away from it. Your chest tightened as you quickly pulled your hand back, hurt by his rejection. All this emotional warfare was wearing you down.

He's running away again, you thought, a shock of fear bolting through you.

"Why are you sorry?" Your brows furrowed deeply as you wrapped your arms around your body, the chill of the dungeon devouring you once more. You instantly missed his warmth against you.

"You're with Bluewater, are you not?" Severus's eyes hardened as he spoke that wretched name. Suddenly, your throat felt incredibly tight. Shit, Ben- he'd totally slipped your mind the moment Severus had kissed you. You'd undoubtedly made a bad habit of forgetting him when in the presence of Severus...

"Erm, yes." You said quietly. The tone of your voice had him confused. You sounded regretful.

Severus stood straighter as his hands slinked away behind his back. You shrunk underneath his towering height.

The next thing you wanted to say could ruin it all. You had no idea whether Severus felt the same. Did he feel something for you, or was it just lust for him? Perhaps some sort of fantasy of fooling around with a younger professor? Everything you'd built could come crashing down like a burning plane within seconds. Your hands suddenly felt clammy as you fought to find the right words, your mouth quivering.

"I..." you breathed out as your eyes fell to the ground for a moment, staring hard. "He's not you." You glanced back up at Severus, his scrutinising eyes sending your lungs into a breathless spasm. You felt like you couldn't breathe as you waited for his reply.

"Don't be a fool, Y/N." Severus's voice was cold. It made your stomach drop. Was this his way of rejecting your affections?

"I'm serious." You chewed on the inside of your cheek, eyes studying his unwavering stony face.

"You can do far better than me. I will only hurt you, Y/N," he spoke, his voice deep and languid, "I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible, I will make it impossible to live a life without pain and regret. People do not linger around me for certain reasons."

"Yet I'm still here." You huffed quietly, your fingers squeezing your arms out of frustration.

"For now." Severus mused sarcastically, wallowing in his self-hatred. It hurt you to see his true opinion of himself, and it made your mind race with reasons as to why he despised himself so much.

"Why can't you see yourself the way I do?" You sighed softly, almost defeatedly, gazing at the man in front of you. Severus hated how your eyes were laden with sorrow.

"You look at the world with rose-coloured glasses. I do not." He replied. Those deep, black eyes had suddenly lost the flicker in them, and it pained you. He began to move, sweeping back to his desk, taking a seat behind it - still disorderly and untidy.

You were quiet, quite obviously hurt. Severus's jaw clenched, an ache spreading across his chest as a deep sigh fell through his nostrils. 

"Why do you always shut me out, Severus?" A shaky exhale left you as your eyes burned. The emotional rollercoaster that this man was sending you on was truly heartwrenching.

He was silent in response to your question, eyes stuck to his messy desk, an indelicate representation of his current state of mind.

"Severus, answer me," you demanded, attempting to sound as stern as possible, though it was a pathetic failure as your voice broke; breathy sobs fighting to escape your throat. "Why are you so scared of this?"

"I will only hurt you, Y/N." He said, too afraid to look at you. Severus couldn't bear to see you so upset, especially because of him.

"You don't know that." You replied, voice soft.

"And you do?" Severus's head snapped up at you, frustrated, his eyes cold and ruthless; back to their usual appearance. A quiet gasp shot out of your quivering mouth. "Bluewater is better for you." He admitted. How could he say that when he'd said you'd deserved better than him?

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" You cried out, the building frustration within you finally crumbling and spilling out through your tears. Severus looked away from you, physically unable to watch you cry. Gods, he wanted to rush to you and hold you, tell you that everything was going to be alright, but he couldn't. He had no idea if things were going to be okay. And they definitely wouldn't be if he had the honour of callilng you his. "Y/N-" His eyes were still avoiding you, too ashamed to even look at you.

"No, Severus, what gives... what gives you the right to kiss me, to pull me so close to you and then suddenly shove me away like I'm nothing but a piece of dirt on your shoe?" You rambled, your hands flying outwards frantically as hot tears rolled down your cheeks. It was embarrassing how unravelled you'd become, but you couldn't stop yourself. He'd finally broken you. "You can't keep doing this to me, I can't- it's..." Your lungs and throat burned. You'd exhausted yourself. "To kiss you? Did you not initiate it?" He scowled at you. "You were the one pushing your face into mine!"

"Okay, sure, I admit to that- but you didn't have to kiss me! You could have walked away!" You cried, walking up to his desk and pointing a finger at his face. Immediately, his lip curled upwards, his features twisting into a disdainful scowl.

"Is that not what you wanted?! For me to kiss you?!" Severus bellowed, rising from his desk chair, his hands slamming down onto the desk furiously. This time you didn't flinch, too distracted by the flaming hot anger searing through your veins.

"Did you?!" You exclaimed back at him, leaning forwards over his desk. One more time, the two of you were impossibly close - so close that you were sure you could feel the angry heat radiating from each other's bodies.

The room was suddenly dead silent, and yet, the only things the two of you could hear were the ragged, desperate breaths that seeping out of your heaving chests.

"Go to hell, Snape." You whispered with a red face. You felt humiliated, angry, upset- actually, you were certain every single emotion was surging through you right now; the way your body was trembling uncontrollably made you sure of it.

Severus's lack of an answer more than enough for you. With a frustrated, teary-eyed huff, you spun around, storming straight for his door.

Jesus, how could you have fallen for such a cruel man? Were you so blind? He had an abysmal reputation for a reason, yet you still selfishly thought that you could change him, that you could fix him and make him a better person. And you were wrong, Gods, were you so. Fucking. Wrong. 

You were only three steps away, when a strong hand suddenly gripped your arm, spinning you around with force. You whirled around, taken by surprise as Severus crashed his lips against yours, his touch-hungry hands rushing carelessly to grasp at your waist, drawing your body into his. He was like a devouring flame, hungry and starving for its fuel of life. You gasped against his lips, your body soon falling victim to his alluring aura, melting shamelessly into him. Your mind clouded with lust and desire as your hands swiftly settled around his neck once again, desperately tugging him as close to you as possible as a few stray tears fell from your closed eyes, wetting both of your cheeks. You were unabashedly needy for his touch - for his lips, for his whole self in general - your body and heart was begging for him, and Severus noticed.

*

Severus pushed you backwards towards the very desk that the two of you had brewed the Mandrake potion a year ago, his hands slipping underneath your thighs to lift you up effortlessly. Your bum grazed against the surface as he placed you down, a rogue piece of wood tearing the hem of your nightdress slightly. You spread your legs, inviting him in, his hips pressed against the edge of the desk as he kissed you hungrily. Severus's hands slipped up from your thighs and felt their way up to your waist again, squeezing you tenderly, shooting a delicious shiver up your spine. He pulled a delicate moan from your lips as he let one of his hands snake up to your neck, his thumb grazing against the side of your breast on its travels. A groan bubbled in his throat at the sultry noise, a thrilling jolt trembling through him as his hand gently grasped the back of your neck, his cold fingers tickling the nape of it.

You mindlessly wrapped your legs around his hips, tugging him closer with each lingering kiss like he could be ripped away from you any second. Severus's hips rutted against yours and you gasped, prompting an animalistic groan from his mouth. 

Your hands fell from his neck, sliding agonisingly slow down his torso and halting themselves at his hips, toying with the buckle and buttons of his trousers. Instantaneously, with his wet and swollen lips still glued to yours, his hand abandoned your waist to help you with his clothing, unbuckling them one-handedly. You were impressed to say the least.

As you fumbled with his zipper, Severus returned his hands to your body. His slender and skilled fingers found your cardigan and slipped it off of your shoulders and arms, discarding it to the ground. You whined slightly at the sudden bitter air, though it was soon silenced as Severus delved his wet tongue wildly into your mouth, licking and caressing it against your own. You moaned as he moved his mouth down to your jaw, nipping at it sweetly, his tongue leaving a hot trail as he made his way down toward your neck; his fingers having a mind of their own as they flew to your shoulders, tugging at the straps of your nightdress. Another breathless moan tumbled freely from your mouth as Severus sucked sweetly on your neck, pushing you backwards onto the surface of the table. You let yourself be guided by him as you laid back on the desk, arching yourself as your hands flew from his hips to the back of his neck, diving your fingers into his thick, mop of black hair, urging him to continue.

Your lids are lazy and heavy as you let him ravage your neck with sinful lips. "Severus," You whispered, breathless, sending a shockwave through him. "Need you-" A lewd whine left you as your body rocked hungrily against his.

"Patience," He whispered back against your hot skin, panting. You whined once more, evidently unhappy with his response. Severus chuckled, pulling away from your slender neck, your hands sliding down from the mess of his hair to his clothed biceps. He leaned down toward your face once more, a pool of warmth flourishing in his torso as he gazed down at you. He lifted a large hand and placed it tenderly against your cheek, his thumb brushing against the pinkened apples of your cheeks. Instinctively, you leaned into his sweet touch, your cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red, inducing a rare smile upon Severus's lips. You allowed your fingers to shift from his tensed arms to the hem of his cloak on his chest.

"What?" You asked quietly, a coy smile gracing your full, swollen lips as you beckoned him closer with a tug at his cloak that lingered between the pads of your fingers.

"Nothing." He rumbled in his deep voice, still staring at you. You sucked in a cheek and bit down on the inside of it, the overwhelming feeling of vulnerability eating you up. His thumb brushed against your cheek again, sending a shiver throughout your body.

"Then kiss me again, will you?" You laughed softly, slightly embarrassed at the dishevelled state you were currently in. You gave another tug at his cloak again. Severus's lips quirked upwards again at your demand, caving at your sweet voice. He leant down slowly, large nose brushing against yours in an intimate fashion as he pressed a soft, chaste kiss against your reddened lips.

In this tender and soft moment that you shared with Severus, all you wanted to do was remain here forever. Seeing him act so warm and soft with you felt like a fever dream. From the callous way he spoke to you in the first year, you never expected a man like him to have such a gentle and delicate side. It was momentous - he'd finally succumbed to you, allowing you into his world; a side of him you never thought you'd ever see. And you were eternally grateful for it.

You felt yourself becoming lost in his addicting touch again as his hands travelled down your body, gently caressing your flaming hot skin. They reached your thighs, squeezing them, and your back arched into him; the fire from before burning hotter.

Kissing you, Severus trailed the tips of his fingers down your legs, toying with the hem of your nightdress, slowly and teasingly guiding it up towards your thighs. The sensation sent a chill down your spine as the crisp air nipped at your bare legs, excited goosebumps erupting all over you. With a delicious, muffled hum, he hooked a finger underneath the string of your underwear, pulling at it.

"You want this?" He muttered against your lips, his eyes fluttering open for a brief moment.

"Yes," you panted, "please, yes."

At the sound of your pleas, Severus slipped your lacy panties off of you, discarding them on the ground with your cardigan. Instantly, he grazed his hand up the inner side of your calf, and up your thigh, coming to a teasingly close stop at where you needed him most. You whined, rocking your hips into him, begging, pleading him to touch you. A throaty growl rumbled out of him, and he mashed his lips harsher against yours, diving his tongue into your wet mouth, engaging in a heated quarrel with your own. You gasped as his hand finally settled on your burning core, a single cool finger delving itself between your wet folds, circling around your sensitive bud.

A strangled moan left your mouth as he added another finger, tracing the outline of you agonisingly slow, a coil tightening within the confines of your belly. You were panting helplessly now as he teased you, losing all control as Severus slipped his fingers inside of you, extracting a high-pitched whine from your throat. You grit your teeth as he curled them inside of you, clutching at any last bit of strength within you to stop yourself from screaming out. Your body was trembling now, hopelessly, as Severus had you wrapped around his fingers quite literally.

You exhaled, "Severus," with a whiny moan, he pulled away from your mouth and removed his fingers from you and brought them up to your lips. Without hesitation, you parted them, prompting Severus to dip them into your mouth, your tongue curling around them sinfully. A groan bubbled in the back of his throat as you tightened your legs around his hips, begging for him to continue.

A smug smirk picked at the corners of his lips as he stared at you. Your lips were wrapped around his two fingers, saliva dripping messily from them, your eyes blown and dark, hungry for more of him.

"Such a good girl," Severus uttered, tilting his chin upwards. You almost combusted right then and there. "You always were." He hummed. Instantly, your hands flew to his trousers, tugging at them with wild determination. You couldn't wait any longer, you needed him now.

He pulled his fingers out of your pretty mouth and helped you, lowering his trousers; the growing tent in his boxers driving you insane. Your fingers hook at the hem of them as his own did with your panties, pulling them down urgently. A fierce flicker of lust and desire flashed in your eyes as his cock bounced free, your legs tugging him closer to you once more, a whimper leaving your lips in an attempt to persuade him to finally take you.

"Sev, please," The way you shortened his name in your soft, enticing and whiny voice almost sent him tumbling over the edge. He drew a sharp breath as he placed a hand against your cheek, and his other underneath your nightdress upon your waist, his fingers finally touching and squeezing your naked flesh. He groaned as you rutted your hips against him again. Without a delay, he slipped himself inside of you, the pair of you moaning together at the intense flash of pleasure washing over you like a tsunami.

Severus's mind was jaded as he fucked you, his mouth parting and lips quivering as he allowed himself to become lost in the ripples of unwavering bliss that rattled through his body. Your hands snaked up to his face and cradled it sweetly, pulling him back down to meet your lips again. The kisses were short and sweet, nothing like the hungry and harsh ones before.

Your head fell back slightly, your bottom lip caught between his teeth as Severus's full length sheathed itself inside of your warm, hot core; the delicious slapping of yours and his flesh echoing in his classroom. All those years ago, studying in here, never did you think that you'd find yourself right here in this sensual moment.

Severus's hand that was sat on your waist slipped downwards and settled itself on your hip, fingers digging harshly into your skin as he felt himself teetering closer to the edge. His breaths were becoming ragged, laboured and heavy, and so he brought his other hand down to your womanhood, slipping his fingers between your folds once more to thumb your clit. As he circled it skillfully, your body quaked with every rub, strings of moans and gasps falling freely and shamelessly from your busied mouth. The coil within you tightened, and your fingers sunk themselves into his mop of black hair once more, gripping it with force as your body shook uncontrollably.

Severus's thrusts became sloppy and uncalculated as he pulled his face back from you, watching as you came undone beneath him; your face twisting in a dangerously beautiful manner as the coil snapped. He moved his hands from you and placed them beside your hips as your walls clenched frantically around him, and Severus himself was sent tumbling over the edge, a broken and throaty animalistic moan slipping out of his mouth as his body gave out, collapsing over you. Catching himself with his hands, he transferred his weight to his elbows and forearms, leaning up slightly to gaze at you. His black eyes twinkled beautifully in the amber glow of his classroom, a flush of warmth blossoming over your spent, sweaty body. A gentle giggle came from you, and he found himself smiling. Usually, it felt odd for such an expression to take hold of his features, however, with you, it felt natural. Like it was meant to be there.

*

(end of 18+)

He allowed himself a moment to recuperate as your fingers softened their grasp in his hair, gradually glazing to his cup his red cheeks, thumbs brushing sweetly against his burning skin. He pulled himself out of you and pulled up his trousers, buckling them up. He pulled your nightdress back down over your legs, his hand lingering over your thigh.

"Don't you look happy with yourself," you giggled again, and Severus hushed you with a gentle kiss on your lips. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"What do you mean?" He frowned softly, thumb brushing against the silk material that covered your thigh. A warmth pooled in your belly at his touch.

"You're smiling, and it's not forced... or sarcastic." You smiled, biting down on your bottom lip playfully.

"I can't help myself," Severus muttered, his face mere centimetres away from yours, "You just seem to pull them out of me." The warmth within your burned a little hotter.

"Don't stroke my ego, you'll regret it, Sev." You joked, a toothy grin replacing the sweet smile. He chuckled at you.

"I hate to bring this up, however, it's niggling at my mind," Severus suddenly sighed, the tiny flicker of a smile that was on his face disappearing. "What about Bluewater now?"

You scrunched your nose up at the sound of his name, the guilt that once vanished making a very hasty return to your body, sinking into your aching shoulders. "Um," you winced, "I don't know. I can't exactly... end things with him whilst he's staying here, erm, I'm not sure how he'll react." You finished, allowing your fingers to brush through Severus's dishevelled black hair.

"Hm," he hummed, pondering. "what does that mean... for us?"

"We will just have to grin and bear it until he 'deems it safe to leave'." You made a face, mocking Ben's words from that moment in the Great Hall. A faint amused smile spread across Severus's face, your chest tingling at the sight of it. "And I'm not sure I can tell him about us, he might just lose it, you know how he... you know- hates you."

"That would truly be a sight to behold," Severus smirked, the arrogance in him slithering out. You rolled your eyes at him. "However, we must be wise in our decisions, I do not want you getting hurt." His other hand held your cheek, fingers brushing a stray strand of messy hair behind your reddening ears.

"Do you think you can handle acting like you hate me for a few more days?" You asked, a bashful grin gracing your blushing face. Your hand settled atop of his large one as he caressed your cheek. Severus couldn't believe how lucky he was. What on Earth did he do to deserve this? To deserve such a beautiful, kind creature like you?

"I did it for the past year, another few days is nothing." He quipped quickly, a playful tone in his voice. You scoffed at him.

"Wow," you breathed out, grinning, your hands flying to his chest to push him off of you. He obliged and leaned up, stepping out of the trap of your legs. You slipped off of the table and picked up your underwear and cardigan, putting them both back on. An embarrassed red blush fluttered across your cheeks as fresh memories of Severus rolling up your nightdress flooded your mind, almost drowning you.

"Oh, that's too far?" He laughed softly. You head flew to look at him, your heart skipping a beat from the sound of his beautiful laugh. You'd never heard it before, and it was... gorgeous, to say the least.

"That's the first time I've heard you laugh - genuinely." You gasped, an uncontrollable smile spreading across your face like a wildfire. Almost immediately, Severus's face dropped and he rolled his eyes, clearly opposed to your positive reaction. He wasn't exactly fond of being fawned over, it made him feel weak.

"And it'll be the last." He groaned, turning away from you as another sweet laugh bubbled in the back of your throat.

"I should get back, Ben is probably wondering where I am, or... he's still asleep, oblivious to the world." You sighed heavily, padding towards Severus's tall, cloaked form. He slowly turned around, his black eyes sparkling in the orange torchlight.

"Yes," He said softly, fingers coming up to hold your chin. All sense and feeling suddenly drained from your legs. "Though I'm not sure I can promise to stay away from you, let alone keep my hands off of you." Severus muttered, his deep, languid voice sending a shock through your smaller body.

Your breath hitched, "Well, you're going to have to try," you exhaled softly, eyes flicking between his. He brought your chin up, cool fingers grasping it sweetly, and pressed a tender kiss upon your lips. Naturally, your hands flew up to sit against his strong chest, a guttural groan emitting from his throat as he kissed you. You had to swallow the moan that threatened to slip from you, feeling yourself become aroused all over again. "Alright, I really have to go." You whispered against his mouth, though your body was showing the complete opposite of what you said.

You kissed him back, a little harder, tracing your tongue against the surface of his bottom lip. "Go, then." He murmured back, hands slipping from your face and down to your waist, gripping you teasingly slow. You arched into him, breaths becoming shallow and wanting.

"I'm trying," you whimpered, "you're making this very hard."

"Let me make it easy for you then." Before you could protest, Severus tore himself from you, a needy, desperate whine falling from your lips.

"Gods, you're such a tease." You groaned, folding your arms against your chest, a clear show of disappointment. Severus couldn't help but smile at you. You looked so incredibly cute with that unhappy frown on your little face.

"My apologies." Severus mused sarcastically. "Now, go, I will see you tomorrow."

You sighed, "Alright, fine..." eyes looking at his form dangerously, rousing him.

"Stop it, Y/N."

"What?"

"You know exactly what you're doing."

"Do I?" You blinked, an innocent look crossing your features.

"Leave. Now." Severus said sternly, gesturing to the door as he swept behind his desk, seating himself.

"Alright, I'm going." You couldn't help but smile cheekily as you moved towards the door, fingers clicking it open reluctantly. "Same time tomorrow?"

"We'll see. Now, go."

And so you did, slipping out of his classroom sneakily, making sure to shut his door as quietly as possible with the brightest smile on your blushing face.

What the hell just happened?

Part 12!

oh LORDT. i do hope i wrote that scene well, it was tough i won't lie. however, credit to the weeknd, bro really helped me.

let me know your thoughts, i'm always curious to see what you think :)

i love you guys!! thank you again!! make sure to drink enough water, it's getting super hot again ffs! >:(

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[awkward-walking-potato]

Logan's Soft Spot

Logan, Scratch and Buddy are my favourite trio and I love writing them so much. Logan is very much a dad who didn’t want the pet but then loves the pet the most.

Logan was a man of few words and even fewer affections. He wasn’t the type to openly express his feelings, especially not towards a couple of furballs like Buddy and Scratch. The big, lumbering mutt and the sharp, temperamental cat had somehow become part of his life, but he’d never admit how much they meant to him. If anyone asked, he’d just grunt something about them being “useful around the house” or how they kept the place from being too quiet.

But deep down, you knew better.

Whenever you caught Logan slipping Buddy a piece of his steak under the table or letting Scratch curl up on his lap while he pretended not to notice, it made you smile. You had your suspicions about just how much he cared for them, but Logan was stubborn. He’d never admit it, not in a million years.

That’s why, when you came home from grocery shopping one afternoon and heard the unmistakable sound of laughter and the pitter-patter of paws coming from inside the house, you couldn’t help but pause at the door, bags in hand, and listen.

The scene you walked in on was one you’d never expected to see in a million years.

Logan was on the floor, his flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, wrestling playfully with Buddy. The big dog was bounding around him, tail wagging furiously as he tried to catch the old man’s hands in his mouth, all while letting out enthusiastic barks. Logan was chuckling—a deep, rumbling sound that was so rare, you almost didn’t recognize it.

And then there was Scratch, perched on the back of the couch, his sharp eyes watching the pair with something resembling amusement. But every so often, Logan would toss a small toy mouse his way, and Scratch would pounce on it with all the precision of a seasoned hunter before batting it back toward Logan.

You stood there for a moment, frozen in the doorway, trying to take in the sight before you. Logan, the gruff, tough-as-nails man who could take on an army without flinching, was playing with his pets like a kid. And he looked… happy.

Eventually, Buddy noticed you first, his ears perking up before he bounded over to greet you, licking your hands as you set down the grocery bags. Logan turned at the sound, quickly getting to his feet and brushing off his pants as if he hadn’t just been caught in the act.

“Back already?” he grumbled, his tone casual, but you could see the hint of a blush on his cheeks.

“Yeah, didn’t take long,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” Logan said, too quickly, running a hand through his hair. “Just… keepin’ ‘em entertained.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, stepping over to give Buddy a quick scratch behind the ears. “Sure, Logan. Whatever you say.”

Scratch hopped down from the couch, weaving between Logan’s legs before sitting primly at his feet, staring up at him with a look that seemed to say I know your secret. Logan grunted and reached down to give the cat a quick pat on the head, which Scratch accepted with a purr before sauntering off.

“So, this is how you spend your time when I’m not around, huh?” you teased, pulling out the groceries.

Logan shot you a look, though there was no real heat behind it. “Just makin’ sure they don’t tear the place apart.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, unpacking the bags. “You know, Logan, it’s okay to admit that you care about them.”

He let out a noncommittal grunt, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re alright, I guess. Good company, when they’re not bein’ a pain in the ass.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “Logan, it’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his eyes flicking between you and the animals. Then, with a heavy sigh, he finally relented. “Yeah, alright. Maybe I like ‘em more than I let on.”

You smiled warmly, stepping over to him and slipping an arm around his waist. “They like you too, you know.”

Logan glanced down at you, his expression softening as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Yeah, well, they’re stuck with me now, aren’t they?”

You leaned into him, content, as Buddy settled at your feet and Scratch jumped back onto the couch, curling up in his favorite spot. For a moment, everything was peaceful, the house filled with a warmth that had nothing to do with the weather outside.

Logan might never be the type to openly express his feelings, but in this quiet moment, surrounded by the little family you’d built together, you knew that he didn’t need to say anything at all. It was written in the way he stood close to you, in the way his hand lingered just a little longer on Buddy’s head, and in the way he always made sure Scratch had his favorite spot on the couch.

Logan wasn’t just stuck with them. He was home.

[satoruhour]

geto and reader sneaking out from jujutsu high school

have good day/night ! :)

a/n: apparently geto doesn’t have a least fav food bc he consumes curses so often that he’s content to eat anything. sigh. / 1.7k ☆ / @crysugu @lvlybee @na-t0

“nah, you’re lying.” it wasn’t peculiar for geto to hang out in your room after classes (if you could even call them that with gojo usually interrupting them or him getting called out of class to complete a mission). it’d be left with the two of you, and while shoko is not opposed to participating in the (vastly different) insanity you two would usually bring, she prefers to watch from the sidelines with a burning, shortening cigarette and an amused smile.

“like i— for one, love pineapples on pizza and, cherry tomatoes, but i just hate it when they don’t choose the right ones, you know?” geto leaves you to ramble until you realise your voice is simply countered by low hums and nods, “you don’t have any food you hate, do you?” you sit up on your bed after a long time of quelling the loud beats of your heart, looking incredulously at him still lying down, long legs going past the footboard, long hair and all. it grows faster in the summer, you realise — jet black hair that flows like a blackened river right down to his nape — and you find you’ve noted it down in your head a bit too often.

the repetitive memory is paired with reminders to give him the silly star clip you found at a corner side store and plain black hair ties (you steal them sometimes, he doesn’t ask for you to return it). it all but muddles your focus, these thoughts, all because you find it terribly difficult to look away from geto suguru’s unprecedented beauty. the graceful slant of his eyebrows to his hair, right down to the stubborn strands of feelers on the left side of his face that won’t stay in his bun—

“i’m not lying; i really don’t,” the dark-haired sorcerer laughs breathlessly, and he doesn’t notice your daze or the way you jerk at his chortle. his eyes come to rest on you, looking soft and gentle, a gaze even he doesn’t give gojo, and you think he looks the prettiest when his spread out locks converge as he sits up to rest on his elbows.

but besides the warmth of these domestic scenes through rose-coloured glasses, you can make out the underlying sorrow that pools beneath the light-hearted laugh. sometimes you can feel its heaviness, weighing suguru down more than it could ever do to you, and though he’s never lets you in, you had an inkling on what exactly tears at his mind.

it’s how every curse geto exorcises ends up in him, tainting his system with the harrowing taste similar to a rag that’s used to wipe up vomit and feces. it’s how he stifles gags each time a mission is completed, swallowing the curse with scrunched up eyes and a permanent frown. it’s how he’s ingested curses so much that he would be content with any type of food.

“then… let’s go out and find what food you hate then. process of elimination,” you offer softly with a giggle, pushing his legs off your bed before getting up yourself and stretching your limbs. it was late afternoon after all, causing the room to bathe in a general laziness and orange hues to prepare for sunset. you pull on his pants, leaning over him that teases the line between love and friendship.

geto mumbles, “like… right now? don’t we have a meeting with yaga-sensei soon?” and you’re prepared to get rejected with that reason (“oh shit, i forgot—”) until he takes your hand in his and surprising you with the idea that he’d disobey authority for a stupid idea of yours. he thumbs the back of your palm like he’s done it a million times before — c’mon, he says, and then the walk out is silent, hand loosely clasped in his as he skillfully manoeuvres through the traditional architecture of jujutsu high so well you’re convinced he skips classes.

it’s like you undo the tiring climb up the foothills of mount mushiro when you’ve finished an early morning mission, feeling the tug of geto’s hand on yours. it feels like it goes on forever too, but you bask in his occasional turns to look at you to check if you were still there: as if your hand in his isn’t enough, as if you were a reverie in his eyes, as if he didn’t have the sun in palm of his hand, in all her glory in this late, blinding glow. there’s a familiar manifestation of a stingray about three quarters through, the little creature floating beneath suguru’s hand.

“won’t you get caught by the school?” you laugh, but you climb onto it anyway — there’s a small humming sound that emerges from the curse and your stroking, ghosting hand only draws more pleased exclamations from the stingray.

it’s here where he sees how his akaei reacts to your touch and voice that geto thinks maybe collecting curses isn’t so bad. it’s on days like this where he think it might be worth it if little moments like this could clear the tainted, blurry cataract that mixes up who he should be protecting in this fucked up world.

the akaei jerks you forward and you let out a little yelp, face resting just inches from suguru as you clutch onto a fin of the creature — geto swears he hears a cackle from the curse and simply clears his throat, ignoring the pounding of his heart and the way he could smell cherry lip gloss on you. he wouldn’t put it past you to get cherry tomato flavoured lip gloss, but he imagines no matter how much you liked the vegetable (fruit?), you probably wouldn’t be putting that on your lips.

“shall we go?” 

beyond the school, he realises he’s not sure where you want to take him and he dispels the curse, already thinking of the lecture he’d get but instead he’s allowing you to drag him out of the heavy foliage and into the humble shops lining the bustling town. with this, geto is able to see your person without feeling like his heart is going to burst out of his chest, pushing down words that he wasn’t sure you’d reciprocate whenever you turned around to point out the stores you would frequent.

and geto certainly is able to get that little piece of heaven and normalcy that he craves, letting someone he cherishes pull him through throngs of people to find his least favourite item, just because. he lets you sift through convenience stores and family businesses, eating with the unforgivable rays of the setting sun dancing through your features and his bowl of wanton noodles at the chinese shophouse that it convinces him any type of food could be his favourite as long as you’re stuffing your face with waffles or initiating a brain freeze with a 7-eleven slurpee.

and years later, geto somehow still has a bit of trouble categorising foods into ‘favourites’ and ‘non-favourites’, a sorting system that’s black and white, years later. he much rather place (almost) all of them in the grey simply because experiencing dessert and starters and main courses now with your mere presence was enough to make everything delicious against his repulsive palate.

“still thinking?” geto’s thoughts are interrupted by you as you call from across the table, a hand reaching out to hold his. 

he only nods with a languid smile, reminiscent of the mornings when that’s all he has energy for — and except maybe your teasing and lovesick voice. he’d have all the energy for that. “i’ll have what you’re having.”

you giggle, “again? okay… don’t blame me if you spit out the escargots like you did on our last date.”

geto stifles a laugh and only sends the confused waiter off with both of your menus and soon he’s pulling lightly on your hand and he makes you burst out laughing like he usually does, “what did you order again?”

the food turned out… mediocre to say the least. for such a renowned restaurant, you’d expect phenomenal tastes and combinations, except they were overrated too much by critics with only the plating to praise — but still, the night doesn’t end when the bill is hastily paid and geto buries you in his embrace.

“coat’s warm,” you smile. it’s the winter, he’s got you engulfed in his large coat as your nose crinkles at the snow brushing upon your cheek — unbeknownst to you, you wouldn’t have this reality in another universe where christmas was so near — but you would die before you let geto slip from your grasp again. you hoped it would be like this for every other time someone such a yourself crosses path with a certain dark-haired, lovely and kind person like geto suguru: in love, holding his heart in your hands, like sending out a message (“i’ve got him — have you?”) to all the you’s in every other realm.

“what do you say we finish the leftover pizza in the fridge?” his grin is blinding, something you never thought you’d see past high-school, but slowly, you’ve picked up the pieces and cleaned off its rough edges. you’ve polished them and melded them back together bit by bit. in the 55 by 63 refrigerator at your small shared dorm in your alma mater, all of geto’s pineapples were littered messily over your side of the dough, ingraining that dramaticized display of how, to geto, pineapple on pizza tasted worse than swallowing curses.

though, it was one of the favourite foods he’s developed a taste for after eating it with you a few times. sure, he at first hated the sweetness that contrasted with the saltiness of the dough, although seeing the fullness of your cheeks and how well you ate; it was simply that, that made him love it — but he’d never tell you that, not while you also loved it, because if anything meant more than his rediscovered love for food, it was your love for the same exact things that would make him order all the hawaiians in the world.

as geto’s lips meet with yours (smelling like cherry tomato lip gloss, he stands corrected!), he thinks that lecture and temporary suspension from his old teacher was worth all the days spent with you — pineapples and (right) cherry tomatoes and all.

[arcticwolf144]

A list of some things I noticed during the last matinee of Next to Normal UK

Diana pointed and yelled something from upstairs just before Natalie started singing for the first time. Like “wahey” sort of energy

She also absolutely bellowed “dive in with both feet” an inch from Dan’s face 

Diana was very insistent that Dan not touch her sandwiches. Kept waving him off

While Natalie was singing Everything Else Diana was peeling the crust off bread slices in time with the beat. I’ve never noticed that before so idk if it was a last day thing or if I’ve just missed it until now but it was very funny. 

Natalie looked like she was tearing up in Perfect for You. She was so happy and it was so cute 

Dan juggled three pieces of garlic bread during It’s Gonna Be Good lmao 

Natalie was so distressed during It’s Gonna Be Good. Like going “please get down!” when Diana climbed on the chair and flinching away from the water. She also mouthed “I’m so sorry” to Henry while everyone else was setting the table

I could hear her sobbing as she ran upstairs

Diana was mouthing “fuck off” to herself a lot while Dan was singing I Am the One.

When Diana started yelling Natalie covered her ears and she was sobbing so hard like the hardest I’ve ever seen someone cry on stage oh my god 

Gabe laughed when Natalie came down the stairs in Superboy 

Diana kept mouthing “shut up, shut the fuck up” when Gabe and Natalie started singing together

A lot of tears during Catch Me I’m Falling

Gabe was so horrified when he saw the blood during I’ve Been. Like he came on, knelt down on the stage and was just staring at the floor, at one point with his nose like inches from the stage. I’ve seen various interpretations but to me it always seems like he can’t quite understand what’s happened or how it’s got there. He knows he told Diana to join him but didn’t realise how violent that would be? Idk. But anyway then he curled against the counter crying and combine that with Jamie’s unbelievable acting through song and it was a hard watch

During the first verse of Wish I Were Here Natalie kept reaching for Diana

I think there was a muck up matinee prank happening in the wings on (the audience’s) left. As the island was spinning Trevor, Jack and Jamie seemed to notice something and were trying not to laugh. Like they’d look into the wings, smile a bit, and then they’d look at each other and then really quickly look away. This happened for the whole song every time the stage rotated. Caissie also seemed to do the tiniest double take when she faced that side of the stage.

Jack didn’t leave the stage after Aftershocks he was standing in the farthest box. So you could see Gabe’s silhouette in the far corner while the next scenes were happening which was quite powerful. 

Diana literally went “what the fuck?” when Dr Madden sent her away after telling her about Gabe 

Diana fully gasped as she put the music box down and the intro to How Could I Ever Forget started. 

When Diana moved away from Gabe during I’m Alive (Reprise) she had her hands over her heart and she was crying and just kept mouthing “my baby”. It was heartbreaking. Then the realisation hit her of what it meant and she got scared and ran off.

Gabe started crying even before Diana looked at him during The Break. He went from exhilaration during the first verse to suddenly getting scared when Diana came in with “they tried a million meds…”. For the rest of the song he was trying to get her attention, crawling up and down the counter in tears. Then when she touched him he completely broke down and was clinging onto her and crying so hard. 

He was also crying when he came out from behind the counter

Natalie sobbed out “stop” when Diana kissed her head in Maybe 

I Am the One (Reprise) may deserve its own post but anyway: Gabe was crying from his first lines (Jack was subtly wiping their face on their sleeve between phrases). He absolutely latched onto Dan, and Dan was sob-shouting his lines while Gabe was absolutely screaming his. When Dan pulled away Gabe tried so hard to catch hold of him again so they had this little tussle mid song during the “yeah”s. Dan then backed away, Gabe leaned fully over the side of the counter reaching for him and tried to belt out “I am the one who loved you” with all his soul but his voice broke so badly basically no sound came out until “loved you”. The same happened with the “tried” on the next line. It was absolutely beautiful and so heartbreaking. He then managed to get out the “you’ve always known who I am”, did this massive sobbing gasp afterwards and was just staring at Dan with tears running down his face. “Hi Dad” was so small and cracky it shattered my heart. Dan then slowly walked towards Gabe with his hand outstretched but stopped just before he reached him, and Gabe raised his hand too so their fingers almost touched and that’s when Natalie came in. Gabe then broke down audibly sobbing

Dan started to break when Gabe touched Natalie’s hand but Gabe then stopped at the bottom of the stairs to cry and Dan started absolutely gasping and sobbing and it was so sad. Like he was watching Gabe leave him for a second time and it destroyed him.

Diana was watching Nat and Henry interact in Light which was a lovely moment. She did a kind of “well fair enough” smile when Henry asked if her parents were real 

[m1ckeyb3rry]

hii! so happy for you and your 500! ^_^

i really loved how you wrote isagi! could i request something like listening to music and sharing earphones with him? and while he's commenting about the music reader told him to listen, reader finds herself staring at him. and maybe isagi's friends are secretly filming them bc of how cringey (lovingly) their relationship are HSHS feel free to ignore, thank youu!!

── READ IT AND WEEP!

Synopsis: You and your boyfriend listen to some music together, while an unlikely trio of strikers watches in disgust/fascination/apathy at the scene before them.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Isagi x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.8k

Content Warnings: fluffy to a corny extent tbh but it’s okay it’s cute, chigiri and bachira are dumbasses (affectionate), nagi is an unwilling accomplice, karasu converts nagi into a subway surfers kid offscreen

A/N: anonnnn i’m so glad to hear you liked pathways isagi!! and tysm for the congrats 💖 i hope you didn’t think i ignored this, i’m sorry it took me a bit to get to! i did incorporate your suggestion at the end hehe i love a good opportunity to write shenanigans…i wasn’t sure which characters to pick but for some reason the three i chose were calling to me HAHA they just felt like they would be the ones to do smth like that!!

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

“It reminds me of you,” you explained as Isagi made a face at the bright pink album cover of the song you were trying to convince him to listen to. “Stop trying to be all macho and cool! It’s not like your friends are around to judge you for listening to basic pop music instead of your normal stuff. Come on, I know you’ll like it.”

“Okay,” he said hesitantly. “Let me read the lyrics first.”

“What kind of spoiler is that? Just listen to the song!” you said.

“I can’t understand the lyrics if I just listen to the song, and you said that it reminds you of me, so I want to know what you mean by that,” he said.

“How about you read the lyrics afterwards?” you bargained. He shook his head resolutely.

“No, because then the listening experience won’t be as strong,” he said. Sighing, you looked up the song’s lyrics and handed him your phone, holding onto his bicep and reading over his shoulder as he scrolled through the singer’s downright over-the-top articulations about how much she loved her boyfriend.

“It doesn’t sound as crazy when she’s singing it,” you muttered when Isagi’s ears turned red.

“No, no, this is sweet,” he said, pretending to cough in an attempt to disguise his laughter. “I can’t believe you think so highly of me.”

“Of course I do,” you said. “You’re my one and only boyfriend. You’re not the only one who gets to be cheesy, you know. I do as well — though only sometimes. Certainly not anywhere near as often as you are.”

“Right, being cheesy is my role,” he said, his cheek resting against your hair as you slumped into him. “Okay, since this is your way of showing affection, and since the lyrics are so charming, I guess I should probably listen to it. Give me one of your earbuds.”

“Gross, you didn’t bring your own?” you teased even as you handed one over to him. He rolled his eyes, shoving it into his ear, kissing your forehead as he did so.

“Super gross, I know,” he said. “You can play it whenever you’re ready.”

The familiar notes of the intro played, but you had played the song a million times before, so you hardly paid attention. Instead, you focused on Isagi, the way he frowned slightly as the first verse began, like he was concentrating very hard. It was endearing, that he was putting so much effort into the simple task; you knew it would’ve been much easier for him to pretend to be interested so he could get it over with, but he had never been like that. If you asked him to do something, he would put a hundred percent into it, a hundred percent or sometimes more, just so that he could make you happy.

You noticed, idly at first and then on purpose, that his body was different, his face angular in a way that it hadn’t been when he had left for Blue Lock. It was these changes you took stock of as he sat in peace, eyes shut as he listened to the music. He looked less like a boy and closer to the man he would one day become. You wondered how much he would change the next time he left, if you would even recognize him when he came back again.

In the end, though, you concluded that no matter how he had grown and how he was yet to grow, he was still at his core your Isagi. Isagi who listened to your music and gave piggyback rides to your younger siblings. Isagi who stopped in convenience stores so he could buy snacks for the stray cats and helped you pick what clothes you should wear for any given event. Isagi who loved you and who you loved in return.

“It’s really good,” he said, startling you out of your daze. “I liked it more than I thought I would! She has a really good voice, and you’re right — it does all sound much more natural when she’s singing it.”

“Is it getting added to the playlist?” you said.

“Hm,” he said. “Maybe the one I listen to at home, but I don’t know what the others would say if I was on speaker duty during one of our workouts and that started blasting. I think Barou and Raichi would probably die.”

You didn’t know that much about either of those two, but from what little Isagi had told you, that sounded in character enough, so you nodded in agreement.

“Good enough for me. It’s okay, I’m not mad! See, I have different playlists for different occasions, too, so it only makes sense that you would as well,” you said.

“I’m glad you’re not upset. I really do like it, just so you know. Send me more songs like it when you get home — I want to make a playlist of ones that remind me of you,” he said. 

“Why, so you can play it during your group workouts and make your single teammates jealous?” you said, elbowing him in the side. He chuckled.

“Nah, that would be cruel. I think I’ll bring my own pair of headphones to Blue Lock — I’ve definitely scored enough goals that they’ll let me keep them at this point — and whenever I miss you, I’ll listen to it,” he said.

“Oh,” you said, swallowing, taken aback at the casual way he always said such romantic things. “Um, well, if you have your phone, you could also just text me…”

It was his turn to be taken aback. “Oh, right. I guess I could do that too…but if you’re asleep, then I’ll listen to it! We get up pretty early, you know, and I don’t want to wake you when you should be resting.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said. “But let’s not talk about you leaving right now. For the moment, I’m glad you’re on break and can spend time with me.”

“Me, too,” he said. “I love you, Y/N. Just as much as that singer loves her boyfriend. Actually, more.”

“I love you, too,” you said. “More than that singer could ever love anyone. Way more.”

He exhaled through his nose, and then he wrapped his arm around your waist, scooting impossibly closer to you on the park bench the two of you were sharing and humming the melody of the song as you watched people walk by. 

“Nagi!” Chigiri hissed from where he, Bachira, and Nagi were hiding in a bush — or at least, they were trying to. It was somewhat difficult to hide the towering Nagi, who was also not exactly cooperating in their covert mission or participating in their attempt at masterful disguise. “Did you get it?”

“What?” Nagi said with a yawn, still holding his phone up, pointed towards where Isagi and his girlfriend — the girlfriend whose existence they had all been convinced was a myth or tall tale — were sitting together. “Get what? Why are we even here? You guys told me that we were leaving the bowling arena to get snacks.”

“Give me that!” Chigiri said, snatching the phone from Nagi, who whined in protest. Bachira hushed him, reaching up to pat him on the head, though that only made Nagi pout like a child. “What? Why is this open to Subway Surfers?”

“Oh, Karasu downloaded it on my phone while we were all in the arcade, and I’ve been playing it ever since,” Nagi explained. “It’s kind of fun. I’m trying to get the national high score.”

“You were supposed to be filming Isagi and The Girlfriend!” Bachira said, emphasizing the words ‘the girlfriend’ as if she was some kind of legendary being. “That’s why we brought you along! You’re always playing on your phone, so it wouldn’t be suspicious for you to have it out, but you were secretly supposed to be taking videos as blackmail, not actually playing on it!”

“You guys didn’t tell me that,” Nagi said. “You told me that we were all going to buy chips and fruit jellies together.”

“We literally told you,” Chigiri said, face-palming. “We said when we got here, ‘look, Nagi, that’s Isagi and his girlfriend. Take a video of them.’ Anyways, why else would we be standing in a bush so creepily if we weren’t doing reconnaissance?”

Nagi shrugged. “Dunno, maybe it’s a common hobby or something.”

Chigiri narrowed his eyes at him, unable to discern if he was being serious or not. He decided to err on the side of caution, given how genuinely strange most of his Blue Lock peers were. “It’s not.”

“Okay, you know what? It’s fine. They’re still there, so we can get some footage now!” Bachira said, taking Nagi’s phone from Chigiri and using it to take pictures of Isagi and his girlfriend as they curled up with one another on the park bench.

“Use your own phone,” Nagi said, though he didn’t try to take the device back by force — it would be a hassle, and he was pretty sure that Bachira would give it back soon.

True to form, Bachira sent the photos to a group chat he created with himself, Nagi, and Chigiri, and then he gave Nagi his phone back, earning him a quiet cheer as Nagi was finally able to return to Subway Surfers.

“These are perfect,” Chigiri said. Nagi, whose little avatar had just been caught by the policeman, scowled slightly.

“By the way, why do you guys think that these are worthy of being used as blackmail?” he said.

“Uh, because it’s embarrassing that Isagi of all people is so lovey-dovey?” Bachira said.

“Exactly,” Chigiri said.

“I think it’s more embarrassing that he has a girlfriend and no one else does,” Nagi said conversationally, without even looking up from the screen. Bachira and Chigiri exchanged horrified looks and then, in unison, whipped out their phones to delete the offending material, Chigiri also taking the liberty of doing the same on Nagi’s.

“I can’t believe we didn’t consider that angle,” Bachira said, shaking his head. “Nagi, man, you’re a lifesaver.”

Nagi grunted, obviously uninterested in Bachira’s praise. 

“This is why they call him the lazy genius,” Chigiri said in approval. “Listen, the three of us are the only ones who can confirm the existence of Isagi’s girlfriend. That means that the next time he brings her up, we have to double down on denying it. You guys in?”

“Yup, sounds like fun!” Bachira said. “Nagi?”

Nagi looked up at them. “Will you guys pay for my chips and fruit jellies like you said you would?”

Chigiri and Bachira glanced at one another before nodding, silently agreeing to split the bill. 

“Sure, we got it!” Bachira said.

“Just don’t expect anything on the same level as whatever Reo buys you. We’re not that rich!” Chigiri said. Nagi shrugged.

“Whatever,” he said. 

“Then it’s a deal!” Chigiri said.

“Deal!” Bachira said.

“Deal,” Nagi agreed, shoving his phone in his pocket as the three of them traipsed towards the closest convenience store, leaving Isagi and Y/N blissfully alone and unaware that they had ever been there in the first place.