#sunglasses for your face shape

[oliullah04]

How to Pick the Perfect Tortoiseshell Sunglasses for Your Face

Tortoiseshell sunglasses have long been a staple in fashion, offering a timeless blend of sophistication and versatility. Their unique patterns and warm hues make them a popular choice for many. However, selecting the perfect pair involves more than just admiring their appearance. It's essential to consider how they complement your face shape to enhance your overall look. In this guide, we'll explore how to choose the ideal tortoiseshell sunglasses tailored to your facial features.

Understanding Tortoiseshell Sunglasses

Tortoiseshell sunglasses are renowned for their distinctive mottled patterns, typically combining shades of amber, brown, and black. This design mimics the natural shell of the hawksbill turtle, though modern versions are crafted from synthetic materials, ensuring both style and sustainability. The rich, earthy tones of tortoiseshell frames add depth and character, making them a versatile accessory that complements various skin tones and outfits.

Beyond aesthetics, tortoiseshell sunglasses offer practical benefits. The patterned frames can subtly mask smudges or scratches, maintaining a polished appearance over time. Additionally, their classic design ensures they remain in vogue, making them a worthwhile investment for any wardrobe.

The Importance of Face Shape in Selecting Sunglasses

Choosing sunglasses that harmonize with your face shape is crucial for achieving a balanced and flattering look. The right pair can accentuate your best features, while an ill-suited choice might detract from your natural beauty. By understanding your face shape, you can select tortoiseshell sunglasses that enhance your appearance and provide optimal comfort.

To determine your face shape, observe the proportions and contours of your face. Consider factors like the width of your forehead, cheeks, and jawline, as well as the length of your face. Once you've identified your face shape, you can explore frame styles that complement your features, ensuring both style and functionality.

Identifying Your Face Shape

Recognizing your face shape is the first step in finding the perfect tortoiseshell sunglasses. Common face shapes include:

Round: Characterized by soft curves and equal width and height, with a rounded jawline.

Square: Marked by a broad forehead, strong jawline, and equal width and height.

Oval: Features balanced proportions with a slightly narrower chin and forehead.

Heart: Distinguished by a wider forehead and cheekbones, tapering to a narrow chin.

Oblong: Longer than it is wide, with a straight cheek line and sometimes a longer nose.

To accurately identify your face shape, stand before a mirror and trace the outline of your face with a washable marker or lipstick. Step back and observe the shape you've drawn to determine which category best describes your face.

Tortoiseshell Sunglasses for Round Faces

If you have a round face, the goal is to add definition and create a slimming effect. Angular frames can provide the necessary contrast to your face's natural curves.

Recommended Frame Styles:

Square or Rectangular Frames: These add structure and lengthen the appearance of your face.

Cat-Eye Frames: The upward sweep can draw attention to your eyes and cheekbones, adding definition.

When selecting tortoiseshell sunglasses, opt for frames with bold patterns and darker hues. This combination can enhance the slimming effect and add a touch of sophistication to your look.

Tortoiseshell Sunglasses for Square Faces

For square face shapes, the aim is to soften strong jawlines and angular features. Rounded or oval frames can introduce gentle curves, balancing the face's proportions.

Recommended Frame Styles:

Round Frames: These contrast with angular features, providing a harmonious balance.

Aviator Frames: Their teardrop shape adds softness and draws attention away from a strong jawline.

Choosing tortoiseshell patterns with lighter tones or gradient designs can further soften your facial features, creating a more balanced and approachable appearance.

Tortoiseshell Sunglasses for Oval Faces

Oval faces are versatile and can accommodate a wide range of frame styles. The key is to maintain the natural balance of your features without overpowering them.

Recommended Frame Styles:

Oversized Frames: These can add a fashionable flair without overwhelming your face.

Geometric Frames: Shapes like squares or rectangles can provide a striking contrast to your balanced features.

When selecting tortoiseshell sunglasses, consider frames that align with your personal style, as your face shape can handle both bold and subtle designs with ease.

Tortoiseshell Sunglasses for Heart-Shaped Faces

Heart-shaped faces benefit from frames that balance a wider forehead and a narrower chin. The goal is to draw attention downward, adding width to the lower part of the face.

Recommended Frame Styles:

Bottom-Heavy Frames: Designs that are wider at the bottom can add fullness around the chin area.

Light-Colored Frames: Lighter shades can minimize the width of the forehead, creating a harmonious look.

Tortoiseshell patterns with a mix of light and dark tones can be particularly flattering, as they draw attention to the eyes and cheekbones while balancing the overall facial proportions.

Tortoiseshell Sunglasses for Oblong Faces

For oblong face shapes, the objective is to shorten the length of the face and add width. Deep frames with decorative or contrasting temples can achieve this effect.

Recommended Frame Styles:

Oversized Frames: Large frames can make the face appear shorter and more balanced.

Wraparound Frames: These add width and break up the length of the face.

Selecting tortoiseshell sunglasses with bold, horizontal patterns can also contribute to a balanced appearance, drawing the eye across the face rather than down its length.

Considering Skin Tone and Tortoiseshell Variations

While face shape plays a significant role, your skin tone is another essential factor in selecting the perfect tortoiseshell sunglasses. The right color palette can enhance your natural complexion and overall look.

Skin Tone Categories:

Warm Skin Tones: Typically have yellow, golden, or peachy undertones. Earthy tortoiseshell shades with golden or honey hues complement warm skin tones beautifully.

Cool Skin Tones: Characterized by pink, red, or bluish undertones. Tortoiseshell patterns with cooler shades, such as ashy browns or even hints of blue, can be flattering.

Experimenting with different tortoiseshell variations allows you to find a pattern that enhances both your facial features and skin tone, ensuring a cohesive and stylish appearance.

Balancing Style and Functionality

While aesthetics are important, the functionality of your tortoiseshell sunglasses should not be overlooked. Consider factors such as UV protection, lens quality, and frame durability.

Key Considerations:

UV Protection: Ensure the lenses offer 100% UVA and UVB protection to safeguard your eyes from harmful rays.

Lens Material: Options like polarized lenses can reduce glare, enhancing visual comfort, especially in bright conditions.

Frame Material: High-quality materials like acetate not only enhance durability but also provide a comfortable fit.

Brands like Bullion Eyewear prioritize both style and functionality, offering a range of tortoiseshell sunglasses that cater to diverse preferences and needs.

Conclusion

Finding the perfect tortoiseshell sunglasses for your face is all about balancing style, functionality, and personal preference. By understanding your face shape and selecting frames that enhance your features, you can achieve a flattering and sophisticated look. Whether you have a round, square, oval, heart-shaped, or oblong face, there’s a tortoiseshell design that complements your natural beauty. Beyond aesthetics, consider factors like UV protection, lens quality, and frame durability to ensure your sunglasses are both stylish and practical. With the right pair, you’ll not only elevate your fashion game but also enjoy long-lasting comfort and eye protection. So, take your time exploring different styles, try on a few options, and invest in tortoiseshell sunglasses that truly make you look and feel your best.

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Headcanon that bludhaven hates heroes with a flaming passion bc theyre just cops in tights but love Nightwing and therefore vehemently deny his hero status to anyone and everyone.

Like there is no official Nightwing merch bc he’s a criminal he’s committing a crime okay vigilante justice is in fact not legal and he’s not TECHNICALLY on the justice league and he’s NOT TECHNICALLY the leader of the titans anymore. But there are about 400 different Etsy stores that make hoodies, crop tops, joggers, sweats, sunglasses, bracelets, t shirts with nightwings logo or some art of him on them.

Like they love this guy and will get into beef with any Gotham national who tries to claim Nightwing is THEIR hero.

1) hes not a hero he’s a criminal fuck you

2) you have a hero and just bc he’s shit at his job and needs our guy (who is NOT a hero) to help him sometimes doesn’t MEAN SHIT

people are walking around with tiny v shaped blue tattoos or embroidered on clothing but again NOT A HERO BLUDHAVEN DOESNT DO HEROS

There are coffee shops with bad nightwing pun names nightbird, beanwing, nightwinging it and so on

Every third piece of graffiti is this man’s logo

Every sandwich place or fast food chain has a ‘secret menu item’ that’s not actually secret bc everyone orders it and it’s just one of their normal items dyed blue (sodas, desserts, burger buns, condiments so on) some places will sell wings fried in blue panko bread crumbs and call them them ‘nightwings’ ofc these are ALL off the menu you can’t see these items and if you try to order them out of the city you get weird looks.

Superman goes on tv and says Nightwing is one of his favorite hero’s and bludhaven riots. wtf nightwing is your favorite hero you fuckin poser

1) nightwing isn’t a hero he’s a criminal so back off

2) he’s ours you and your frou frou fancy city that hasn’t been nuked by a sentient pile of radiation can fuck RIGHT off

Naturally the only person in bludhaven who is unaware of this is Dick Grayson bc tbh this man is too busy to give a fuck about what his city thinks of him. They trust him to get shit done. Good that’s all he needs okay he has 22 reports he needs to log he’s busy.

Tim Drake professional nightwing fanboy however is fucking furious about this because.

A) dick was a GOTHAM hero FIRST and bludhaven can suck it

B) fuck you nightwing isn’t just a a hero he’s THE HERO and the BEST hero and don’t be rude bc you have a complex

C) all of the cool nightwing merch only ships around bludhaven so has to get it ordered there and it’s just a hassle and he’d pay double he swears just let him get it delivered to where he is please Everytime he stops by bludhaven he leaves with 10 new pieces of nightwing merch and bc he has so much. Damian doesn’t think he notices when some of his doubles mysteriously go missing. He does.

D) since they are anti hero they are firmly unhelpful whenever he or Steph show up bc a case has lead them to the city

The one plus side was watching Jason Todd having a mental breakdown bc apparently in bludhaven redhood counts as a hero and is therefore hated.

“Yous worked with the bat yous a hero thems the rules”

“I KILL PEOPLE”

“Yeah so do cops and people always call them heroes”

“Okay but I kill people to protect the general public I put down scum”

“Cops say they do that too”

“I- okay you know what I’m a hero fine okay. Why isn’t nightwing a hero”

“Vigilante justice is a crime”

“I’m documentably worse than a vigilante”

“But you have worked with the bat”

“For money yeah”

“See you even get paid, face it you’re a hero which means you suck”

“You realize Nightwing has worked with the bat right like way more than I have”

“Listen that ain’t his fault okay, the bats incompetent and so are the rest to you idiots. He’s a nice guy and a good neighbor don’t mean he’s a hero”

“I- what the fuck is in this cities water”

“I don’t fuckin know but it’s prolly better than whatever gothams got in its harbor”

“I- yeah you’re probably right”

[sea-lanterns]

CHOCOLATES AND ROSES

synopsis: your wife decides to surprise you for valentine's day.

featuring: mavuika, xilonen, navia, furina, lisa, arlecchino

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, dom! afab fem reader (furina), linge.rie, strap ons, oral (reader giving and receiving), food play, implied unprotected se.x, implied pene.trative sex, finger gagging, furina, lisa and arlecchino all have di.cks, slight degradation and pet play, established relationships, may be ooc.

art credits: bad thinking diary

MAVUIKA

The house was strangely dark apart from the amber glow emanating from your bedroom. You couldn’t help but raise a brow as Mavuika would usually be up and greeting you by now. Where on Teyvat would the Pyro archon be? She’s not that hard to miss in your house, surely. 

“Mavuika?” you called out her name, your eyes catching the way the glow from the room burned brighter. Oh Archons, did your wife set something on fire? “Mavuika, the bed better not be ablaze when I get in there!”

You heard a stifled chuckle from behind the door, causing you to drop your bag and rush to your room. “Why don’t you check, my love?” her voice purred, causing you to stiffen and grasp the handle. Well, it wasn’t scalding hot, so that was a good sign at least. “Mavuika, if I have to buy a new mattress again–” The rest of the sentence died on your lips when you opened the door the rest of the way. There your wife was, lying seductively on the bed in nothing but some black lingerie. The room was illuminated by several heart-shaped candles, the floor and sheets scattered with rose petals that Mavu must’ve dropped, and of course, right in the middle of it all was a very smug Mavuika. 

“Well, there’s no fire, but it is pretty hot in here, don’t you think?” Mavuika grinned and slowly lowered her sunglasses. Of course, even though she was practically butt-naked in a lace lingerie, Mavuika still thought to wear those stupid sunglasses while waiting for you inside a dark room all alone. 

You wanted to kiss her so bad. 

“Mavuika what…what is all of this?” You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up at the sight. “What? It’s Valentine’s Day, I just wanted to surprise my wife.” Mavuika couldn’t wipe the smirk off her face. She was awfully proud of what she’s done, wagging a finger over so you could come closer. “Come closer, I have a surprise for you, my sun.” 

“Oh I wonder what it is…” You playfully rolled your eyes and walked closer, watching as Mavuika suddenly laid back and lifted her lingerie, showcasing the long, black strap on she had strapped to herself. 

Ah…

“Mavu…” you were weakly pulled to the bed, the Pyro Archon’s smoldering lips capturing yours. Mavuika all but groaned into the kiss, pulling away briefly to grin at you. “Do you like it?” she husked, nipping at your bottom lip. The way she gazed up at you like you were the sun had you in a chokehold, her eyes full of longing and pure desire. “Depends, maybe I’ll know when you actually use it,” you countered, wrapping your arms around her neck. 

Mavuika’s heart throbbed as she pulled you down for another kiss. Tongues dancing amongst each other, your clothes were nearly singed off with how excited Mavuika was, but luckily you didn’t catch on fire. She pushed you down on the bed, taking her position on top of you like she always did. The Pyro Archon greedily lifted your leg up to rest upon her shoulder, grasping the base of her strap to angle it at your entrance, but not before squirting a generous amount of lube all over it. 

“Hm…maybe you will have to change the mattress again after this,” she smirked. 

“Just put it in,” you sighed, smiling up at your silly wife. 

“Aye aye,” Mavuika kissed the ankle of your feet before snapping her fingers. Like magic, all the flames of the candles blew out, shrouding you two in darkness as Mavuika eased herself into you.

XILONEN

“You know, I am quite surprised you put all this together for me.”

“Heh, do you really think so little of me, babe?”

You came home to Xilonen curled up on your bed, dressed in…well, actually nothing. Xilonen figured there was no point in wearing a sexy piece of lingerie for you if you were just going to take it off. So, there the Jaguar lady was, smirking up at you while her fluffy tail covered her bits. Her tits however, were on full display as she lazily sat up, squishing them together with her arms. 

“Honestly, I was thinking of wearing something sexy for you to ogle, but then like, I figured you were just gonna take it off anyway. Plus all the laces and buttons…” Xilonen’s nose scrunched up at the thought, her laziness showing through. “It just wasn’t worth it to me. I know you’d much rather have me all naked instead.”

She let out a purr and swished her tail, revealing that blonde bush and pussy you were all too familiar with. To amp up the atmosphere a bit, Xilonen slowly pushed a button on a remote, the lights of your bedroom dimming to match the mood. 

“You…added mood lights to our room?” You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. 

“And a speaker.” She clicked another button and soft, sensual music began to play from somewhere in the room. You recognized it as one of Xilonen’s works, but have never heard this particular track before. Did she make a whole new playlist just for you? 

“Yes, I did create a whole album of songs dedicated to this moment,” Xilonen huffed smugly, her tail giving a sassy little flick. “Happy Valentine’s Day babe, no need to thank me.” 

“You cocky thing you…!” You rushed over and pounced on your wife, full on tackling her on the bed and smothering her face with your lips. “Mmpf!” Xilonen purred happily and wrapped her tail around your leg, clearly content with you on top of her as she pulled away to lick your lips. “See, I’m not that lazy. I just put in the effort where things count.” 

You shook your head and reached up to pull her in for another kiss, her tail thumping against the mattress with each push of your lips. “You’re so silly…” you murmured against her, utterly smitten at her for doing this. “I like to think I’m cool,” she counters, one hand trailing down to cup your ass, giving it a squeeze. Her chest rumbled a bit when she felt the warm flesh, her long, feline tongue licking her lips as she couldn’t wait to dive into a feast. 

“Now, are you gonna take those all, or do I have to rip them off myself,” Xilonen growled, clearly getting impatient. “I’m getting hungry…” she emphasized, clawing at your top. 

“I will, I will,” you laughed, undressing yourself for Xilonen’s eyes and practically giving her a strip tease on her lap. The overgrown kitty was just salivating at this point, staring dumbly at your tits with big, curious eyes before getting impatient and flipping you over. “No more teasing…!” She yowled, pretty much shredding off the rest of your underwear and hitching your legs over her shoulders. Her butt did that cute little wiggle that cats did before pouncing, and then she attacked. 

“Xilonen—!” You squealed as she dove into your bare cunt, her large tongue lapping at your clit as she took what she wanted for Valentine’s Day. 

NAVIA

"Ohhh Mon Cherie! Let me wish you a Happy Valentine’s Day…”

Navia winked at you from the front of your bed as she seductively trailed her finger down the navel of her breasts. Wrapped up in nothing but red ribbons, Navia was currently presenting herself to you in a way that left every bit of her body exposed to you. Her nipples were barely covered up by the thin slip of satin, the edges of her pink areolas peeking through from the sides. If your jaw could drop like a cartoon character it would. 

Instantly, you felt your face burn hot at the sight of your wife. Sure you’ve seen her naked plenty of times before, but the sight of Navia in…in something like that. Well you weren’t used to it at all! Navia was flattered when she saw that she rendered you speechless, a tiny blush creeping up her own cheeks. “Oh my love, don’t exaggerate.”

“I’m not exaggerating,” your voice cracked, causing you to hesitantly walk closer to the bed. “Just…Just wow…” 

“Oh wait! I have just the thing to complete the look,” Navia reached over to grab one of the many real roses that were scattered across the room. She placed the stem in her mouth, playfully winking at you and leaning back. “Now, it’s all perfect.” She grinned, her voice muffled by the rose. 

Oh this buffoon. 

“…Oh Navia. Just how much money did you spend on all this?” You asked with a smile, looking around at all the extravagant rose bundles, the exquisite plates of heart-shaped desserts, all for the sake of pleasing you on this day. 

“Uh…don’t worry about it,” Navia smiled wryly, telling you all that you needed to know. “Today is a special day for us Mon Amour, so money is nothing to me when it comes to spoiling the woman I love!”  She suddenly grabbed a plate of macarons from the bedside table and offered it to you; it was pink and shaped in a heart, clearly hand-baked by Navia herself. “A macaron for you, mademoiselle? I spent all morning perfecting its shape.” 

“Oh, how thoughtful of you,” you reached over to take it, but Navia suddenly pulled her hand back and placed the macaron on top of her breasts.

“Come and eat it my love,” she purred, beckoning you over with a seductive finger. She seemed to be enjoying teasing you with her state of undress, pushing the macaron a bit further into her cleavage. You felt your mouth water a bit at the sight, realizing that Navia was tempting you to eat something off her body. “A-Are you sure?” You asked hesitantly, eying the way the macaron crumbled slightly.

“Oh for Archon’s sake, c’mere you…” Navia giggled and grabbed your hand, pulling you in so that you were seated on her lap. Your face planted into her breasts, a small “oof!” leaving your lips before you gazed up at your wife. Navia was smiling down at you, her hand coming up against the back of your head and guiding your lips to the macaron. “Eat.” She commanded softly, watching in pleasure as your lips wrapped around the macaron and began chewing. 

“Good girl, Mon Amour,” she praised, her eyes going half lidded in pleasure before she reached over your body to grab something. Your ears picked up at the sound of something metal shaking, before you saw Navia holding up a can of whipped cream. “I know one measly macaron is not enough to satisfy your sweet tooth, so why don’t we top it off with some cream, hmm?” The sound of cream coming out could be heard as Navia squirts a small line of it across her thigh. She shivers at the cold sensation, but seems quite excited to try something new with you. “You don’t mind eating off me, do you my love?”

“No, not at all…” Navia pulled you in for a kiss, briefly tasting the sweetness of the macaron you just devoured before pushing you down. “That's what I figured.” 

You took your place in between the President’s legs, ready to devour your special Valentine’s Day dessert. 

FURINA

“H-Haah! Don’t come inside yet!”

“Furina?”

“Just stay out there!” 

You heard a few more thumps within your shared apartment with Furina, wondering what in the world she must be doing in there. You heard another particularly loud crash that caused you to flinch, worriedly knocking on the door. “Furina? Are you okay, I’m coming in!”

“No—!” 

You twisted the doorknob and pushed it open without haste, your eyes landing on the absolute mess your living room was in. Aside from the fallen bouquet of flowers and various condom packets scattered about, right dang smack in the middle of it all; was your wife all tangled up in some pink lace and upside down on the edge of the couch. Clearly, showing you that she had fumbled. 

“…H-Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” Furina murmured pathetically, smiling up at you as the bow tie on her head began to slide off. 

“…Oh, Furina.” Your heart practically exploded at the sight, noting that she had tried her hardest to make today extra special for you. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you too.”

You dropped your bag and closed the door, walking over to your wife to help her up. Her arms and legs were tangled together from a comically long strand of lace, not even doing its job of covering her bits as her tits and cock were just out and about. “I’m sorry…I think I used too much lace…” Furina mumbled, sitting upright with her hair all over her face. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you chuckled, brushing a few locs of hair away from her eyes, “You look very sexy right now.”

“Really?”

“Nah.” 

Furina pouted and puffed up like a hamster. She would swat at you if she could, if not for the fact that her hands were bound together by the lace. “…Help me out dear?” She asks softly, swallowing her pride and looking up at you pleadingly. You couldn’t resist her big, watery eyes, so you sighed and went to grab a pair of scissors from the kitchen. You came back and began snipping Furina free, watching as she regained movement of her limbs. 

“Much better…” Furina sighs, stretching out her arms to regain circulation. “Sorry you had to do that, I wanted to do something much more sexy for you…” She frowned and looked down at her lap, disappointed after everything. “Well, I wouldn’t say it was an unwelcome surprise. After all, I do get to have you all to myself still,” you trailed your finger down from her chest, all the way down to her semi-erect cock. It was cute how despite everything, Furina was still adorably hard. “What’s this? Maybe you were tied up in the cold for too long.” 

Furina yelped when she felt your warm hand enclose around her length, her body shuddering when you grasped it. “M-My dear…you tease me too much…” 

Nevertheless, she was blushing incredibly hard and her dick was starting to stiffen up even more. You smirked and pumped your hand a little harder against the shaft, feeling the tiniest bit of precum dribble down your hand. Furina gasped and let out a whine, her head falling back in pleasure. “My dear, can you grab one of the condoms? I fear I can’t take it anymore…”

You laughed and snagged one of the packets off the table, ripping a piece off before stopping upon closer examination. 

“…Furina, these are XL condoms.”

“Oh for the love of—!” She grit her teeth and pouted in frustration, her cock twitching angrily in your hand. “Are you serious?” 

“Oh, don’t get too upset,” you hummed, tossing the packet away and pulling her in for a kiss. “I’ll just ride you raw this time.”

“What—!” Her face turned even redder as more precum slid down her shaft. “Think of it as a Valentine’s Gift from me,” you giggled, beginning to unzip your pants while your wife just stared in awe, her cock throbbing painfully so as she allowed you to ride her without rubber for the very first time. 

LISA

You knew Lisa would be planning something extravagant for you, but she was very keen on making sure that you didn’t know what it was. She kept you waiting all day on Valentine’s Day, anxiously wondering what your wife was planning back at home. As you finally unlocked the door to your shared home, holding a bouquet of flowers to surprise your beautiful wife, you were greeted with the warm, delicious smell of dinner cooking, and Lisa wearing nothing but a Valentine’s themed apron.

“Well if it isn’t my lovely wife,” She hummed sweetly, flipping over a few veggies and smiling up at you. Though appearing innocent at first, Lisa was definitely trying to rile you up by jutting her ass out ever so slightly, the fact that she was wearing nothing but an apron just further accentuating her Goddess of a body. 

“…HAH?!” Your eyes widened and you accidentally dropped the bouquet. Lisa’s plush thighs were pressed together and pretty much tempting you to get on your knees and service her. Lisa could only chuckle behind her fingers at the sight of you so flustered. “Oh darling, close your mouth. You’ll attract flies.” 

You didn’t even realize your mouth was hanging open and quickly shut it. “Lisa…ah…” you were tempted to roam your gaze over her figure, but for some reason you felt it would be too disrespectful (even though you’ve been married for a while). Quickly, you averted your eyes. “H-Happy Valentine’s Day! I bought you flowers.” You shakily bent down towards the floor to pick up the fallen bouquet, holding it up for your wife. “They’re your favorite! Cecilia Flowers from Donna…I hope you like them.”

“Oh…” You heard your wife chuckle huskily and step closer, her hands taking the bouquet and tilting your chin up. You were forced to make eye contact with her, but that also meant you were pretty much staring at her body that was basically almost on full display with a flimsy apron covering her. “You’re so sweet my dear,” she gently pinches your cheek and leans in for a kiss, her chest pressing against yours which causes you to feel her hardened nipples against yours. Oh Barbatos you felt like you were gonna faint! 

Her lips were soft and wet as she smooched you, getting lost in the kiss as you leaned forward to cling to her more. As the kiss got more heated however, you began to feel more than just her nipples poking at you, something larger and more…excited. 

”Lisa…uhm…” 

“Hmm?” She smiled nonchalantly before looking down at the obvious tent under her apron. Not an ounce of shame on her face as she giggled. “Oh dear, it seems just seeing you has caused me to get…quite excited.” 

She licked her lips at the idea and slowly lifted up the edge of her apron, showing you her stiffie that was all red and swollen. “Can you be a dear and help me, my love? I’m afraid I’ve been hard while waiting for you to come home, but I didn’t want to touch myself when I know my wife has such a cute tongue.” 

Her hand traced your cheek, her thumb playing with the edge of your lips before pushing inward. She groaned erotically at the feeling of your tongue pushing up against her finger, imagining it lapping up against her length. 

“Ofay…” you murmured as her thumb was still gagging you. Lisa smiled and pulled her finger away, admiring the small string of saliva that coated it. “Such a good girl…” she praised, kissing you sloppily before shoving you down to your knees. 

From there, you could only gaze up at your beautiful wife as she pulled her apron up and maneuvered her cock to face you, hovering above your face like an enticing shadow. “Open up, my darling. I’ll let you have an appetizer before dinner.” 

You simply nodded and opened your lips obediently, letting Lisa moan as she slid her length down your throat. 

ARLECCHINO

You did not expect Arlecchino of all people to participate in something like this. Though she seemed quite embarrassed doing it, she was toughing it out like a champ. 

“Well? Does this satisfy you?” Arlecchino raised a brow, currently slouched over the couch with her entire body on display. The room was only accentuated with the glow of nearby candles, yet you could perfectly see your wife manspreading with her cock out and a tiny red bow wrapped around the tip. Even more impressive was how Arlecchino was trying hard not to blush at the loss of her dignity, but she loved you. She loved you a lot, and figured that the best way to spoil her wife was to give you a show. 

“…Arle,” her nickname barely left your lips as you rove your eyes over her body. Chiseled to perfection, her muscles and abs were defined in ways that left you salivating. You had seen her nude plenty of times, but in the soft light of candles and the event of Valentine’s Day happening, well…needless to say you were quite wet. “I didn’t think you’d do something like this…” 

Arlecchino scoffed and gave you a snide grin, “Am I not allowed to spoil my wife today?” She stretched her arms on either side of her, tilting her head up at you. Goddamm, if looks could fuck, you’d have orgasmed by now. “Now why are you still standing there? I’ve taken the liberty of displaying myself for you and you’re still gawking?”

“Ah— sorry Arle!”

“Sir.” 

She corrected, smirking. “Call me sir.” 

Ah, it seems that despite her initial embarrassment, she’s fallen back to her calm, dominant streak. Your knees buckled weakly as you began walking towards her. “Yes sir…”

“Stop.” She held out her hand, forcing you to pause  in your tracks. “Don’t walk, I’d much prefer to watch you crawl to me, dear.” Her voice went dangerously low as she glared you down, despite sitting and thus having to look up at you, you felt every nerve in your body force your muscles to submit. Without her having to do anything, you found yourself on your hands and knees in front of her, crawling on the floors like a dog towards your master. 

“Hm, so you follow commands well. I am quite pleased by my wife,” she tutted, one of her hands reaching down to grasp the base of her length, angling the tip so it was right in front of you. “Keep going, your treat is almost there.” 

Your tongue lolled out almost pathetically as she swung her dick in front of you. Like a pendulum, you were hypnotized, eying the ribboned tip like it really was a treat. Your wife simply chuckled at the sight, putting her hand out to rest on your head. 

“Heel.” She commanded, making you halt just inches away from her dick. “Good girl.” 

She licked the bottom of her lip while watching you, savoring the sight in her mind. You were pretty much drooling and she hadn’t even gagged you yet, knowing how much you’d slobber over her girth since she was bigger than most. “Condom on or off?”

“Off, please sir…” you murmured softly, barely able to contain yourself. 

“Well, I thought so anyway. I didn’t buy any in the first place,” she chuckled, gently patting your cheek. “I know my wife pretty well, huh?” 

Finally, her fingers went to the loop of the ribbon around her dick and tugged it off. As it slid undone, she pushed her fat tip towards your waiting lips, gently tapping it to get you to open. 

“Open up, pretty one. I have lots more activities planned for you after this.”

You nodded excitedly and parted your lips, allowing her to shove her cock in with a grunt. 

[megumiluvv]

Strongest Sorcerer Virgin

Includes: established relationship, Satoru Gojo x fem!reader, oral (m!receiving), unprotected sex (pls use protection!!), Gojo is cocky until he actually has to do it (lolll), kissing, pet names (baby, princess, babycakes), praise (always), creampie I suppose, mentions of satosugu?? (His first kiss), overstimulation (only two orgasms)

Word Count: 1,421

Masterlist

A/n: I have been thinking about virgin gojo for months. It's not funny. I’m so obsessed with him. The voices said “write Satoru Gojo as a virgin” and I will indeed listen.

〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎ ❀ 〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎

You didn’t know when you started dating him, but Satoru Gojo is a virgin. Absolutely no experience, despite his claims.

Oh, according to him, he’s made every girl he’s dated cum at least ten times before putting it in. Little do you know, you’re his first girlfriend. And unfortunately for him, you’re about to find out he’s still a virgin.

He got off easy with convincing you he could kiss fine, having jokingly practiced with Suguru in the past. But he didn’t want to get that far with his best friend, that’s embarrassing!

You’re making out on his couch, the soft pillows sinking under your combined weight, sappy romance movie forgotten in the background. Your hands move to push his sunglasses off his face and he holds your cheeks. You laugh into the kiss when his hips press against yours and you feel just how hard he has become.

“Is tonight finally the night we fuck, Satoru?” You tease and kiss his nose.

“Wanna see what I’m all about, princess?” He chuckles, cocky til’ the end.

“Mhmm, show me that talented dick you claim to have, Satoru.”

His smirk falters. It’s barely noticeable, but you still notice.

“Satoru? Are you okay?”

“Pshhh, whatttt? Of course I am!” There’s that lying voice.

“Satoru…” You have that warning tone to tell the truth.

“What, babycakes? I’m fiiiine.”

“Gojo.” Now he’s done it. He gulps as you refer to him with his last name

“…Okay, okayyy, I miiight’ve lied…”

“About…?”

“I, uhhh, I’ve neverhadsex.” He mumbles super fast.

“What?”

“I’m a virgin! Okay?! I said it!” He pouts and looks away in embarrassment. You almost want to laugh.

“…say something?” He mumbles shyly.

You do laugh. The strongest sorcerer, the most talented man in the world, is a virgin?! That’s absurd! It’s insane! You can’t help but laugh.

“Heyyy, stop laughing!” He whines, face red from embarrassment.

“Sorry! Sorry! I just can't help it! It’s crazy that you were so confident! I never knew!” You giggle. “Don’t be embarrassed, Satoru, I can help you out!”

“That’s even more embarrassing…”

“Oh, come onnnn, it’s just me! I’d be honored to pop the strongest sorcerer’s cherry.” You giggle at your own words and he keeps pouting.

“You’re so mean. And don’t say it like that!”

“Please?”

“…Fine, but only because you caused this problem.”

You look at his bulging pants and grin. “Mkay!”

His porcelain skin is so warm. The two of you had moved to his room and he’s on his back, your plush thighs straddling his lap. You’re both nude and he’s staring up at your body as if it’s sculpted by those sculptors that worshiped the gods. Hands rubbing your thighs nervously as you kiss down his body, stopping at his happy trail.

“You ready?”

“…mhm.” He swallows hard as you kiss his tip.

His body jolts, nails lightly digging small crescent shapes into your thighs. You grin and kiss down his shaft, lightly licking his balls before taking him down your throat.

He gasps from the sudden warmth and bucks his hips. “Shit, that feels good, so much better than I imagined…”

His whimpers fill the air as you fondle his balls and bob your head. You swirl your tongue around his shaft and pull back when you feel his cock throb in your throat and lightly blow on the tip, the cool air making him jolt.

“Fuck, you’re really edging me, princess?” He whines and rubs your hips.

“Come on, can’t have you blow your load so soon.” You giggle.

“I’m not blowing my load…” he mumbles shyly.

“Mhm, sure. Now, since it’s your first time, do you want to do it all or do you want me to just ride?”

His face is beet red. “Wh- I- uh- I can do it myself!!”

You can’t help but giggle. You lay on your back and spread your legs, showcasing just how aroused you are. He rubs your thighs gently and looks into your eyes for approval. You nod and guide his hips.

“Move your hips and slip it in.”

It takes him a while to actually react, shy from your bluntness. He shifts over you, lining his hips up with your body and looking at you for reassurance.

“Like this…?”

“Yep, you can go slowly or quickly, but push in.”

Satoru swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He slowly presses himself into you, gasping at the warmth, better than your mouth. His hands grip the sheets on either side of your head, struggling to keep from busting right away.

“I-is this okay so far…?”

You smile. “Just like that, you’re no longer a virgin.”

He lets out a huff of air, laughing slightly at your words. He swallows again, unsure of what to do. You intertwine your fingers with his.

“Move, set your own pace. I’ll let you know if it’s not enough or too much.” You speak gently, encouraging him.

He swallows again and nods, slowly drawing his hips back and hissing at the way you squeeze him.

“So tight, you feel so good, baby… Does this feel good?”

You nod when he thrusts slowly back in, gradually building up in tempo and in turn moving deeper. He hits particularly deep into you and his tip kisses your g-spot.

“Right there! Do that again!” You gasp and hold his hands tighter.

He looks at you with wide blue eyes, pupils blown as he moves harder, eliciting a moan from your lips.

“Th-that good? Does it feel good for you too?” He manages to say through gasps and grunts.

“Yes, Satoru, so so good…”

He clearly likes the praise, moving faster and now at a constant pace, hips barely stuttering from how close he really is. He has to see you cum first. He needs it, needs you to feel good because of him.

“Satoru, my clit, rub my clit.” You whine, guiding his hand to the sensitive nub.

“Do I just-”

“Just rub it!” You buck up into him as he keeps his pace and finally moves his hand too.

His calloused thumb rubs circles into your sensitive clit, and he catches how your folds seem to flutter around him. He bites his lip and watches your face contort into the cutest expression.

“C-close, ‘toru, please…”

“…T-tell me what to do…”

“Just keep up like that, please…”

He nods and fights back every urge to cum, not wanting to miss when you reach your orgasm. You finally cum with a cry of his name, gripping him impossibly tighter and he finally releases as well. Spurts of his seed fill into you as he keeps fucking it deeper.

“C-can’t stop, it’s too much, I can’t stop!” He borderline cries into your shoulder as he keeps overstimulating the both of you, refusing to slow down or stop.

His sloppy thrusts won’t relent on your poor weeping cunt, white forming at the base of his shaft. You dig your nails into his hands, holding impossibly tighter at the overwhelming sensation.

“Satoruuuu! Too much! G-gonna cum againnnn!!” You cry out and clench tighter around him.

He moans and gasps in your ear, too out of it to hear your cries, only focusing on how you’re sucking him in and won’t let go. Not that he plans to ever leave. You reach another orgasm and thrash against the sheets at how intense it was, and again, he soon follows, this time stilling his hips as he whines out your name and so many praises.

“Thank you, thank you, baby, feels sooo good, princess, I love you, I love you…”

He collapses onto you and buries into your neck. You slowly come down from the overstimulated high and play with his hair.

“Satoru, get off…”

“Nuh uh.”

“Come on, Satoru, we gotta shower.”

“Tomorrow, we can do it tomorrow. Can’t move, if I pull out, I’ll just make us cum again.”

You giggle a little and let him cuddle into you. “You’re such a big baby, ‘toru.”

After a moment of silence, you speak up again.

“Was your first time good?”

“So good, you have the best pussy in the world, babycakes.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname and kiss his forehead. “Thanks, idiot.”

“Your idiot.”

“Mhm, my idiot.”

You both fall asleep, not a care in the world. As the moonlight shines through his window, the only thing that matters is that he’s with you, and you’re with him. Satoru Gojo is no longer a virgin. All thanks to one gorgeous girl: you.

[rewiringtoheal]

My Soul Aches For Your Touch

Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader

Summary: Reconnecting with a spouse can be challenging, especially when children and mundane tasks take up so much of the day. Sometimes you have to do something drastic in order to shake things up.

warnings: 18+, minor DNI, Reader has a penis, smut.

A/N: This one is a labor of love, nervous to release it into the world but happy it's complete. First time writing anything like this. I tried my best.

Natasha stared at herself in the mirror. The woman staring back at her had softened quite significantly with the domestic life she has been leading. Long gone were the days of powerful thighs and toned arms from countless hours spent in the training room. She knows she still looks beautiful, shapely even but she can’t help scrutinizing the ways in which she has changed. Not just physical changes but the emotional ones as well. The once unphased Black Widow now a mother and wife who wears her heart on her sleeve. She was barely on the cusp of 35 yet she sometimes felt like a has-been stuck in the same boring routine; having traded in saving the world for morning school drop offs. 

Don’t get her wrong, she loves her life. She has everything she had ever dreamed of and never truly dared to hope for. The most amazing spouse and two children who mean the absolute world to her. The changes that have been made to her mind and body over time are a testament to them. And the prolonged feeling of being loved and safe; they have instilled within her. But there was something missing in this wonderful life that left her feeling unfulfilled. A silent yearning to feel desirable again.

She needed a change of pace, desperately. Nothing too drastic, just something to knock her out of the rut she’s been in. If she is honest with herself, she wants to feel like her younger self used to; powerful and untouchable. A world renowned spy with a sexual prowess that rivaled none; making men and women alike beg for a chance to warm her bed.

Which is why despite her nerves she has decided to go through with this tonight. 

She finishes styling her signature auburn curls, the soft waves cascade down her back and shoulders, framing her face in a way that brings attention to supple lips coated in a subtle pink lipstick. She went a bit lighter on the mascara and eyeliner as well, wanting her natural features to shine through, and the green of her eyes had definitely become the star of the show. She smirks, trying to emulate the confidence that used to be second nature to her. 

Before the feelings of embarrassment could take root and she lost the will to continue this facade, she turned on her heels and strode into her closet, determined to find an outfit that would turn heads tonight. She wanted something that showed off her sex appeal; which she knew she still possessed. It just wasn’t something she flaunted anymore. 

She wanted something that was sexy yet sophisticated, settling on an understated black dress and a pair of matching pumps. The light pink lingerie set she had underneath would be quite the surprise for whoever would be finding themselves in her bed. She hopes the discovery makes their heart race. 

She felt a flicker of guilt twist in her stomach at the sensual thought, or perhaps just her nerves continuing to act up. Natasha compartmentalizes those thoughts away as she dresses quickly. It was sister’s night this evening and Yelena’s girlfriend’s family was hosting a bit of a soiree. And her goal for the evening was quite different to her baby sisters.

She took one last glance at herself, making sure she looked put together. She smirked again, this time she truly felt like her old self. For the first time in a long time she felt sexy and emboldened; it was a nice feeling. She turned to leave the walk-in closet, pausing at the entryway, her eyes briefly catching sight of her spouse's dirty boxers haphazardly thrown into their laundry basket. They’re covered in crocodiles with little sunglasses on them. The sight makes her heart pang with sorrow as she fiddles with her wedding ring, taking a deep breath she wiggles the ring until it slides off her finger, before placing it in her jewelry box.   

The front gate alarm pings, signaling that Yelena and Kate have arrived. She shakes the anxious thoughts from her mind not wanting to think about this any longer; steeling her resolve she makes her way out to her ride.

xXx  

You were in desperate need of a thrill. The life you had was one you coveted but the mundane activities that were expected of you everyday had grown rather dull. You knew that doing the same old things wouldn’t get you the results you wanted so you decided to shake things up. Instead of heading straight home after a long day of work, you decided to take up your client's invitation to her fancy soiree. 

After greeting Eleanor Bishop with a warm hello, you head straight toward the bar, asking for an old fashioned with an orange twist. You take a slow deep drink, enjoying the first initial burning sensation that hits the back of your throat. Gently, leaning against the bar you allow the alcohol to settle into your system and just bask in the ease at which it puts your mind. 

You let your eyes sweep across the room looking for a woman that peaks your interest. You knew you weren’t going home alone tonight; a beautiful woman warming your bed may just be the key to shaking up the monotony. You take note of several gorgeous women, some twirling around the dance floor and some chatting amongst peers, when a shimmering waterfall of red caught your eye. 

Your eyes zero in on her, she’s mingling with a group of socialites, an heiress in her own right perhaps. Not an outlandish guess with how she carries herself and the beauty that radiates from her. She’s made to be the center of attention and you can tell she revels in it. It’s not long before the belle of the ball is asked to dance. Some tall aristocrat; he’s handsome you suppose if you're into that sort of thing.  

You take another swig of your drink, allowing yourself to watch her move across the ballroom. The embodiment of grace as she dances.

You were mesmerized by the woman, and there was no way that pretentious asshole was going to be the one taking her home. Her fiery mane shimmered underneath the ballroom lights, the soft curls bouncing with every graceful movement. The black dress she was wearing had your mouth watering; every movement allowed you to see delicious amounts of ivory skin. Her curves were on full display; the thought of sinking your teeth into that voluptuous backside had you weak in the knees. And that damn smirk she’s wearing almost does you in; you swear she’s taunting you.

You want to worship every inch of her. It’s what she deserves being that damn fine. And you know for a fact that this yuppie won’t get on his knees for her.

You shoot back the rest of your drink, before setting down the empty glass, and making your way towards them.

“Excuse me, sweetheart, would you mind if I cut in?” You say almost breathless.

She’s even more gorgeous up close. 

xXx

She had seen you walk in a while ago, the warm greetings exchanged with Eleanor Bishop and the casual way you were leaning against the bar aroused her curiosity. And the form fitted black suit you were wearing aroused more than that. You looked dashing to say the least. 

She felt your gaze linger on her as she socialized, it exhilarated her to be watched in such a shameless manner. You did nothing to hide the desire, lighting up your eyes, your intentions quite clear. 

She smirked before accepting an invitation to dance from a rather stiff businessman, wondering just how far she would have to push you for you to be the one asking. Never taking into account that you would interrupt them. It was bold of you and she was pleased with your actions. 

With your offer accepted the nameless man left without making a scene; just slight disappointment in his eyes. She didn’t even feel a hint of remorse as you took her in your arms. 

She felt a shiver run up her spine as you took command of the dance. Leading her around the ballroom with a finesse that comes with years of practice. 

The two of you moved through the dance with a sensual grace, your bodies flowing together seamlessly, the passionate embrace amplifying the flirtatious atmosphere.

The warmth of your body, the smell of your cologne, and your hungry gaze had Natasha burning with desire. She hadn’t been this turned on in quite some time. 

As the dance was coming to a close she decided she couldn’t deny herself the pleasure of your company any longer. 

“Do you want to get out of here?”

You nodded without hesitation, grabbing her hand with tenderness as you led her out of the ballroom. She waved to Yelena before they got too far away, letting her sister know where she was headed. The blonde was grinning ear to ear. 

xXx

The car ride to their final destination was taking entirely too long. She was enchanted by the way your tongue darted out to lick your lips and the subtle bouncing of your left leg. It was one of the only indications she had that you were just as impatient as she was. The other clue she had to go off of was the generous outline of a semi-erect penis making itself visible in those deliciously tight pants of yours. She needed the fire burning between her legs to be satiated this instant. The hand caressing Natasha’s inner thigh was not helping matters.

“Pull over.”

“Sweetheart, we’re almost there.”

She didn’t care. All she cared about was the deep ache she knew could only be satisfied by your cock. As need and lust consumed her; every rational thought left her mind. 

She grabbed the hand resting on her thigh, slowly dragging it up to stroke against soft pink panties, the groan you released let her know you could feel how wet she was. 

“Pull the damn car over, now”

“Fucking hell, you’re already so worked up babe.” You husk, as you pull over onto the side of the road, safely parking. 

Natasha slides into your lap in a hast, “You have no idea.” 

xXx

You situate the seat so she’s comfortable, before pulling that tantalizing mouth of hers into an earth shattering kiss. She whimpers as your assault on her mouth turns frantic; wanting nothing more than to consume her. Delicate hands weave their fingers through your hair, as you work to undo the zipper on the back of her dress. You break away from the kiss briefly to peel it down Natasha’s arms, and to pull the black material down her body to pool around her waist. Fuck, the lacey pink bra covering her breasts makes your cock throb with need. 

Your eyes watch goosebumps erupt on Natasha’s heaving chest; as her flushed skin adjusts to the cool air. She tilts your head up, kissing you hard and desperate. Your tongues massaging one anothers in tandem, every once in a while pausing to suck and swirl your tongues into the caverns of each other's mouths.  

Your arms slip around her sides, fingers caressing the smooth skin of Natasha’s back before unclasping her bra and shimming it down her arms. Discarding it without care as your lips leave that additive mouth of hers to kiss along her jaw. She squirms in your lap, as you nip and lick your way down the line of her throat, leaving a trail of red marks in your wake. 

You pull back and admire the intoxicating woman before you. Those gorgeous emerald eyes that bewitched you from across the ballroom are now blown black with a carnal hunger and her lips are kiss swollen. That lovely shade of pink lipstick is smeared down her chin. And her neck is painted in your love-bites and saliva. She looks wrecked. You could come at the sight alone. 

“Are you going to stare at me all night or are you finally going to touch me?” 

She looks pleased by your admiration, despite what her words may otherwise imply.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been touching you but I promise you’re going to be able to feel me everywhere in a second.”

The pair of soft full breasts attached to this divine being are too tempting to ignore any longer. Your lips descend on her right breast with utter devotion, your tongue flicking over a pretty pink peak; coaxing it taut. Before pulling her nipple into your mouth and suckling. 

She arches into you with a breathless moan, offering more of herself up to you with fervor. As you show equal amounts of attention to each breast your hands caress Natasha’s sides, slowly making their way to her backside. You drag the dress up her hips and expose her center, sliding her panties to the side, your fingers slip through damp curls with ease to massage her clit. 

Natasha shudders from the contact, intuitively grinding her hips into your fingers. She revels in the friction for a little while, feeling the pressure begin to build, and knowing that she needs you inside of her right now. Her hands slide down to your belt buckle, yanking it open, you lift your hips up allowing her to drag your slacks and boxers down in one foul swoop. Her fingers wrap around your thickness with enthusiasm; her hand stroking in a firm but gentle caress.

“Hmm, fuck. I need you so bad.” You groan, thrusting into her hand. 

“Me too, baby. I need you inside me.” Natasha mewls.

Natasha slows her movements, grabbing your tie pulling you into a passionate kiss, her hips lifting up and with your guidance sinks down onto your cock. 

Her back grows taut, needing to take a minute to adjust to the feeling of being so full, before she starts rolling her hips. You grip her backside and begin to thrust up into her. She chants your name as you pick up the pace. Natasha matches your rhythm with vigor, her breath labored as she slams down onto you.

Natasha’s hands find purchase on your shoulders, her fingers crumpling the fabric of your suit jacket as she slides up and down against you. You can’t believe you bothered to get it pressed when this is the only way it should be worn; rumpled and covered in her slick. She rests her forehead against yours, panting into your mouth as your lower halves move in tandem. 

She is so tight and so incredibly warm. You continue to pump into her, her slick wet heat engulfing you as you feel the walls of her core beginning to flutter. With determination, you shove your hand between your gyrating bodies, your thumb sliding through soaked folds to massage her clit. 

You feel her inner walls clamp around you before she lets out a cry of your name, her nails sink into the back of your head and neck as she comes hard against you. The intense stimulation is too much for you to bear as you follow her over the edge with a grunt. 

She continues to keep you close as her breathing begins to mellow out, you sprinkle every inch of bare skin available to you with kisses as she begins to untangle herself from you. Natasha chuckles as she takes in your appearance, your expensive suit is wrinkled beyond repair and your skin is coated in a sheen of sweat. It fills her with a deep sense of satisfaction to have done such a number on you. 

Her eyes flick down between her legs, catching sight of the barely visible waistband of your black boxers, straining against your muscular thighs. They are too dull for her taste. 

“You know the suit was so sexy on you but I have to say I am not a fan of these underwear.” Natasha says, gaze returning to you and it’s full of mischief. 

You look up at her and grin, “Well the next time we fulfill one of our fantasies I promise I’ll buy a new pair of quirky animal boxers. Maybe some polar bears or something.”

She laughed and bit her lip, “Oh, I appreciate the consideration, Detka…” she trails off, lost in thought for a second, “Now tell me more about these fantasies of yours.”

You reach down grasping her left arm, pulling her hand up landing playful nips to the tips of her fingers. “Oh sweetheart, I’ve got so many fantasies revolving around you. Some new ones involving that damn lingerie set. You look so fucking sexy in pink.”

You note the subtle mood shift, the sadness and vulnerability now in Natasha’s eyes, it makes your heart weep.

“Yeah?” She asks tone so hopeful

You knew that the two of you had been stuck in a rut as of late, the monotony of family life not leaving much room for the two of you to nurture your relationship; emotional or sexual. There was a strict schedule for everything concerning the kids and with the long hours you worked, it left a lot of your marriage up in the air. Only really having time for quickies in the shower or watching a movie together at the end of the day. That is if your kids didn’t interrupt the two of you. 

When you were young the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other and you know that love changes over time. This however was different and unacceptable to you. Natasha was the love of your life, the sexiest woman in the world in your eyes and the fact that she no longer knew that was gut wrenching. As you look up into her eyes, seeing all the love, hope and desire for you there, you know from this moment on you would do anything to make her feel like the strong, sexy and courageous woman you know her to be.

And after tonight, you know that the fire that burns between you two is still there. All it needs is a little coaxing to ignite it and you were damn sure going to keep that fire fed from now on.

You lift your hand up to caress her cheek, “Natasha, I know our relationship has fallen to the wayside a bit since the kids were born but sweetheart you are still so damn sexy to me. I love you so fucking much. And I am so sorry for letting it get this bad.” 

“I love you too, baby. Please don’t put all of this on you. I know I haven’t been making our marriage a priority either…I’m sorry for that.” Natasha kisses the corner of your mouth. “It’s a relief that after all this time you still think I’m sexy.” She chuckles, gesturing to herself with contempt. “I know I don’t look like I used too.”

“The fact that you don’t believe that your fucking gorgeous and that I crave you like a person in hell craves ice water is on me.” You implore her to see the truth in your words. “I am going to do everything I can to make us a priority again. I'm done always putting the kids first. You deserve to be loved and fucked to your hearts content.” Your voice holds conviction. 

Natasha yanks on your tie pulling you in for a passionate kiss. “Well in that case…maybe we can take advantage of the kids staying with your mom tonight. You can show me just how much you crave me, baby.” 

“That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.” You help Natasha slide back over into the passenger seat, and get your clothes in order. “That being said, when we get home Mrs. Y/L you're putting your wedding ring back on.” You send her a playful glare, as you restart the car. “If I ever see that finger bare again…there will be consequences.”

Natasha giggles, “Consequences huh?...mhmm.. I’d like to experience that but…” She winks at you. “It was definitely a bit of a risk I took, I'll admit. I won’t be taking it again. Now drive, baby.”

It was an exhilarating night for the both of you. And as you head down the road toward your shared home, it feels like the beginning of a brand new adventure. 

[lilyprettyremy]

The Glam Life: daily routines for a polished life. 💋

Sunday: Reset & Reflect Start with a deep cleanse—face mask, detox tea, and a peaceful journal session. Reflect on the past week, set intentions for the next, and list three things you’re grateful for. This is your day to unwind, reset, and prep for success.

Monday: Fresh Blowout & Big Shades Start the week strong with a fresh blowout. Smooth, glossy, and ready to conquer. Pair with oversized sunglasses for that mysterious, empowered look. Bring an extra boost by planning a bold outfit that makes you feel invincible.

Tuesday: Brows & Browsing Shape your brows to perfection—it’s a small detail that makes a huge impact on your overall look. Afterward, treat yourself to a quick scroll through your favorite style inspiration, bookmarking anything that makes you feel iconic. Style starts with inspiration.

Wednesday: Mani & Diamond Shine Keep your nails sharp and sophisticated, opting for a classic French or deep red. Slip on a ring or two (or five). Hands tell a story, so make sure yours speak of elegance and confidence. Midweek is the perfect time to touch up on hydration, too—think hand creams and cuticle oils.

Thursday: Exfoliate & Hydrate Buff away the week’s worries with a luxe body scrub, followed by a rich, hydrating body lotion or oil. Glowing, smooth skin radiates confidence, so keep it moisturized and ready to be admired. Pair with a hydrating face mask to keep everything refreshed.

Friday: Glow Serum, Gloss, & Signature Scent Skip the self-tan and reach for a brightening glow serum instead. This will give your skin a fresh, natural radiance that looks effortlessly luminous. Follow with a glossy lip and your signature scent to add allure. Enter the weekend looking polished, radiant, and ready to take on any room with grace and confidence.

Saturday: Active Beauty & Leisure Today, beauty meets movement. Whether it’s a dance class, yoga, or a brisk walk, get active and enjoy the natural glow that follows. Afterward, embrace leisure: light a candle, sip on your favorite drink, and give yourself permission to relax with a facial roller or a nourishing hair mask. You deserve it.

Each day brings a fresh intention and a luxurious touch to keep you feeling powerful and radiant all week long. It's a full week of showing up as your best self—stylish, strong, and completely in your element.

[youryanderedaddy]

When Life Gives Lemons

tw: female reader, technically non con because of stealthing, baby trapping, breeding, obsessive behavior, reader being a bit rude

You couldn’t believe the irony of your life. You were about to break up with your immature boyfriend, and he still managed to be grossly late to the date, unconsciously digging his own grave deeper. You had put on your best white shirt and the tightest skirt you owned, and you even went through the trouble of booking the latest hipster coffee shop close to the centre. He had been fifteen minutes late, to be exact, and when you brought it up, he simply shrugged a long sleazy smile, dragging his skeleton - shaped metal rings against the edge of the table.

“All in due time, princess.” He took a sip off his coffee - a single shot of espresso with no creamer, as always. “All in due time.” He repeated, reaching in his pocket for a pack of off - brand cigarettes. He really couldn’t afford any of the fancy ones. Once the cigarette was lit, he slowly brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply, letting his head relax against the chair. His thick neck tightened as he swallowed the deadly smoke, and even the sun seemed to avoid his messy dark locks, instead keeping the man in the shadows.

“What does that even mean?” You threw your hands around helplessly, sinking into your chair. “Don’t you want to know?” Axel teased, taking another puff. Although his expression was one of mild amusement, his sharp blue eyes were carefully following your every movement - wondering what will tip you off the most. “You know, you’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad, mami.” He smiled in a playful boyish way that once would have made you melt, but now only served as a reminder of his unserious nature.

“Stop playing around. I need to discuss something imp–”

“Shhh, don’t talk, babygirl. I need to show you something.” Axel interrupted, gripping the big guitar closer to his lap. ”I wrote you a song.” His thin fingers grazed the delicate transparent strings, forcing a catchy, although not fully polished melody out of the old thing. He took a deep breath, wetting his lips so the lyrics would come out softer. 

My girl knows how to set me

on flames she goes through 

the motions of the wind she

is a fireball, a fireball, on fire

“What the fuck, Axy.” You pounded your fists at the table, shaking the glasses and spilling coffee all over the wooden surface. You could feel everyone’s judging stare across your back, all of the other patrons were jeering and whispering about the two of you, and your cheeks were heating up by the moment. “I’ve told you countless times to stop writing those shitty songs. They don’t even rhyme, for fuck sake.” You whined, suddenly overwhelmed by helplessness. He was never going to change, was he? “This is exactly why I want to break up.”

The music stopped entirely. His dark sunglasses ended on the ground. 

“You wanna break up?” The musician repeated slowly, suddenly appearing awfully composed - so composed it made you look crazy. After that question he remained silent for a very long time, taking long drags off his cigarette while studying your face for any sign of your true feelings bleeding out. “Real’ funny, babe, real’ fun joke.” He forced a crooked smile, reaching in to squeeze your hand all the way through the table. “Now tell me, what’s wrong with the song? I stayed real’ late to compose it just for our date today.” He winked, which only made you feel worse.

“I am being serious, Axel. Let go of me.” Your tone turned icy and your ex boyfriend quickly released you, eyes filling with raw fear. “Wait, baby, we can talk about–”

“There is nothing to talk about. You’re such a child!” You blurted out, too frustrated to spare energy on fluttery words and sweet apologies. “I want to do my masters soon. You know I’m applying to Metwyorth - I can’t be seen hanging around with a high school dropout who does Saturday gigs for a living.” You continued, pursing your lips together. You knew you were being harsh, cruel even, but this was the only way to push him away. The musician could be awfully clingy, so you needed to be firm.

“A highschool dropout who made you scream your brains out.” Axel responded bitterly through clenched teeth, eyes growing dark with anger. You shook your head bashfully, avoiding his fiery gaze. “Sure, we had our fun,” You gestured vaguely at nothing in particular, trying to hide the shame blossoming on your sides. “But it’s time to wake up. I mean, be realistic. We live in different worlds.” You began to collect your things quickly, standing up to leave.

“Y/N!” He called out to you, causing you to turn back just for a second - you owed him that much for all the good memories you knew you both would have trouble forgetting. “You’re making a mistake. Please, think it through.” The man took a hold of your hand, caressing your fingers gently. “I know I can’t offer you much right now, but I really love you!” His eyes dilated, honest and clear like an untouched sea on a quiet day. 

“Goodbye, Axel.”

***

You meet him sooner that you’d like.

Two weeks later you’re drunk off your mind, dancing the night away with some of your girlfriends when you catch a pair of familiar eyes fluttering across your body from the other side of the room. It makes you feel hot all over - despite what you said back then, you felt each agonising moment of the break up. Even if the logical part of your brain knows you have no future with such a man, your body needs him, craves him. 

Axel keeps staring at you intensely, burning holes through your neck, your thighs, your lips. His yearning gaze lingers, completely miserable, and yet as lustful as the night he first wrapped his arms around you and claimed you as his. He can still feel your nails scratching his back red and bloody, sending shivers down his spine and setting fire in his loins. This staring game of yours lasts for approximately thirty minutes before he gives in and comes over to your table. He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t look at you or greet your friends, doesn’t even pretend to have any reason to approach you. He simply grabs you, swallows an airy pant, and drags you inside the bathroom.

You’re all over each other in no time. His hands are tangled in your hair and your nails are sinking into his warm flesh once again. You can’t breathe for a second, suffocated by a deep, longing kiss that he only spares you of once your lips start to turn blue. He licks your neck and bites at any spot vulnerable enough to steal a gasp out of you - and you return it by sucking on his collarbone until a purple hickey adorns his skin. You swiftly unzip his loose pants and start taking your dress off, but as you try to spread your legs, he turns you around facing the wall. 

“Fuck, I wanna do you from the back, princess.” Axel mumbles, one strong hand gripping your throat as the other gropes your breasts freely. You nod weakly, too turned on to comprehend any of the words he’s saying. “Ngh, wanna be able to pull your hair n’ shit.” His fist wraps around your ponytail, pulling slightly so you expose your neck to his teeth. You can already feel his throbbing manhood prob at your thighs, slowly moving towards your entrance. “Y-you have a condom on, right?” You manage to whimper through the little electric bursts of pleasure running through your whole body as he plays you like an instrument. He mumbles something like “yeah”, and in this state of mind that’s enough for you.

He starts sinking into your heat slowly, letting you adjust to his hard length inch by inch, then once you’ve settled, practically begging him to just give it to you, he begins thrusting painfully slow - really making you feel it going in and out, in and out in a perfect rhythm. Each time his cock brushes against your most sensitive spot, you’re reduced to a slick, desperate mess, but just as your thighs begin to go numb and you slip down, Axel catches both of your wrists and pins them to the wall, keeping you in place. You’re so wet you can hear the slap of skin on skin every time your gummy walls hug his member, but you’re too far gone to care about the nasty sound.

“F-fuck, baby, you’d be so fucking hot as a mother. Have you ever thought about it?” Your ex whispers against you, picking up the pace. You shake your head - kids have never been your priority, since you’re still so young and your education would always come first. “I thought about it. A lot, ‘n fact, when we were separated.” His heartbeat fastens. “Ugh, you’re still so tight, god…” His free hand dances at your hips, ogling and caressing any curve it can find. “When you dumped me, I was completely lost, ya know? Didn’t sober up for three days. But then I dreamt that I knocked you up accidentally. S-shit, did you just tighten up?”

Your whole body stiffens at his words. Your stomach fills with unexplainable dread - this whole conversation is turning you off, but somehow your body seems to have a mind of its own. 

“Q-quit it with the small talk, asshole.” You groan, pushing back so you’d get more friction between your legs. “Just fuck me, okay? I don’t need to hear your weird fantasies.” You hear yourself saying confidently despite the provocative position you’re currently stuck in - you can’t even see his face, but you know he’s probably laughing at your bossy comment. But instead he keeps blabbering on as if you’re not even there. “You were so beautiful, princess. So big and–” He bites his lower lip. “So fucking needy for me - just like now. You were dripping everywhere. You were so excited for our little baby.” He grunted hoarsely, reaching in to stroke your clit - and despite your best efforts, you let out a soft moan. 

“And we were a family - just you, n-ngh, me and the little guy.” Axel utters through clenched teeth, trying to hold out for as long as possible - savouring you in tiny little bites. “No stupid degrees or anythin’, just us two against the world.” He slows down further, now barely moving inside of you. It’s driving you crazy with anticipation - both his story and the way he’s fucking you. “And it made me think, we could really have all that - if it wasn’t for your stupid pride. All I need to do is knock you up. Just think about it.” The man grips your hips roughly, impaling you on his thickness. 

“Your tits will swell, your thighs will thicken; you’ll be so tired you’ll have to lay down all the time. You won’t even be able to touch yourself because of your belly.” He smiles at you gently, although you can’t see it. At this point you’re already so close to climax you can’t break through the cotton cloud haze that’s taken over your mind to truly focus. This is one of the reasons you had to break up with the musician - he could get you cockdrunk with a simple touch, and that vulnerability felt terrifying.

“And I will take care of you through every-” He kisses your cheek. “single–” He kisses you again. “step of the way.” He inhales deeply, thrusting in one final time before he spills inside you. “I love you, baby. I really can’t let you go.”

[gilverrwrites]

Fake Dating tropes with (some of) the birds and the bats. Ft. Babs, Bruce, Dick, Duke, Jason, Kate, and Tim.

GN!Reader, ≈200-250 words each CWs: None graphic mentions of sex, none-graphic injuries, none -graphic mentions of drugs, intentionally minipulative behaviours.🩷

Barbara

The two of you weren’t exactly not dating. Attached at the hip, making goo-goo eyes in person and inappropriate comments over the comms line when apart; it was obvious to anyone with eyes or ears that something was going on there, you just hadn’t put a name on it yet. It’s something the two of you had made plans to nail down and discuss during your sort of but not really a date-date tonight.

But you had only gone and got yourself shot during what should have been a simple trip to the bank. It wasn’t life-threatening, but you’d been rushed off in an ambulance, you’d need surgery, a lot of meds, and months, if not years of physio to get your arms back into shape.

Barbara didn’t know that at the time though, she’d been panic-stricken from the moment she found out. Emotions getting the better of her, brain running at 100 miles a minute as she rushed to the hospital.

“Partners and family only.” The nurse had told her. And without hesitation, she’d responded: “I am their partner.”

Her lie paid off, allowing her access to your bedside, as well as a full update on your status. There wasn’t another face in any universe you would have rather seen upon waking up from surgery. Now you just had to keep up the appearance of being a married couple until you were discharged, maybe longer.

Bruce

It’s a well-organised and thoroughly thought-out publicity stunt. Bruce needed someone new on his playboy roster, and you needed the media to circulate literally anything other than the less-than-flattering leaks that had been sold to them without your consent.

All you had to do was follow the itinerary. A couple of soft launch social media pics, a few whispers to the looser-lipped socialites of your circles, and some ‘private’ candid photo ops of the two of you dating:

Snuggling under the shade of an oak tree in Gotham Park, wearing matching caps and sunglasses that do little to hide your identities as you read a shared copy of Romeo and Juliet together.

Sitting in his car, in the parking lot of Big Belly Burger, munching on an unseemly large order of burgers and fries together. Nobody questions why the previously tinted windows of Bruce’s car are now clear.

Intimately and provocatively embracing, tastefully half nude on the balcony of your uptown apartment. The press didn’t need to know that you’re actually renting an Airbnb for the weekend, for exactly this purpose, and nothing more.

Everything was carefully planned, right down to the T for maximum impact and minimal effort. The only thing that hadn’t been accounted for was one, or both of you catching feelings in the time you’d spent together.

Dick

He’s never been able to say no to you, you know it, he knows it. So when you ask him in an act of desperation to be your fake-boyfriend for your ex’s wedding he’s quick to inform you that this is the dumbest idea he’s ever heard, and that he’s 110% on board.

He takes you shopping for matching outfits, picks you up on the day in Bruce’s flashiest car, suprises you with something pretty, compliments you loudly and romantically at every chance and won’t take his hands off you all the way through the ceremony. He's attentive and outwardly passionate. Not only is he playing the role of the world's best-ever (fake-)boyfriend, he’s making sure everyone in the vicinity knows you’re a (fake) couple.

It’s during the reception when that funny feeling really starts to settle in. The hairs on edge, butterflies in your belly feeling. Maybe it’s the happy, romantic atmosphere, the soppy music, the way his hands sit so perfectly on your hips as he sways you round and around on the dance floor. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you with those mesmeric blue eyes but damn if you don’t want to kiss him, right here, right now.

Duke

It was a stupid idea, and his family would give him so much shit if when they found out, but you’d argued that “we’ll never know if it might actually work unless we try” and that had sold him on giving it a go. Even if he thought about calling it off at every turn.

What was the stupid plan, and why was it necessary? Well, your ex was dating his crush, and you’d figured fake-dating might redirect their attention to the two of you. And if not, no harm done, right?

Big harm done. Over the next few months, Duke and yourself had spent most of your free time in close proximity. Sharing clothes, food, and ‘plan-related’ intimate details about each other. When you weren’t together you were glued to your phone, awaiting his texts, refreshing his socials.

Somewhere amongst all the dinner dates, and ‘strictly-business’ public making out sessions, your plan worked; his crush took notice, how could they not, Duke was perfect.

Your ex did not. Not that you cared, you’d moved on, to someone who was about to become equally as unavailable.

Jason

He was trying to infiltrate an infamous drug ring so he could take it down from the inside and needed someone in the know who could double as arm candy to sell his story. You’d already been trying to get your foot in the door for weeks now, but lacked enough street cred for them to take a chance on you. It only made sense that you would join forces.

For a while it’s fun, hanging off his arm, letting his hands roam your body freely, loud-whispering all the things you wanted to do to him for anyone to hear. You really enjoyed pretending to be his devilish trophy partner. You enjoyed the nights where it wasn’t pretend even more. But all good things must come to an end.

He served his purpose of getting you where you needed to be, but now he was getting a little too close to building a compelling case against the ring, you couldn’t let that happen, you had much bigger plans for it.

What? You’d promised information, not loyalty.

Kate

You’re both socialites with fairly large internet followings who run in the same circles. Your relationship has always been that of friendly acquaintances until a photographer snaps an innocuous photo of you both entering the bathroom at the same time and the media goes crazy.

Despite putting out very clear, separate statements, clarifying that there is nothing going on, your respective followers grab the ball and sprint with it until you both innocently start to play along. Leaving flirty comments on each other selfies, acting appalled when the other is rumoured to be dating someone else, tagging each other in scenic snaps that could be considered romantic: graffiti hearts, colourful sunsets, starry skies from the candlelit table of a wine bar.

It’s completely harmless of course, it’s all a joke, until it’s not. Until you actually find yourself flustered by her comments, really wishing she was sharing your dinners, until you brace yourself and send the first DM.

Tim

He really is the whole package. Handsome, hardworking, dedicated, polite, and as smart as he is rich. You can understand why your grandma was so excited, calling you from across the country to confirm if you were the mystery person spotted out and about with Bruce Wayne’s second youngest. You hadn’t lied when you’d said yes, you’d just neglected to tell her that you were only friends. You figured it would get her off your back about finding a nice boy for a while. It kind of felt nice, talking to somebody other than yourself about your big fat crush on him and in your defence, you hadn’t expected things to escalate so quickly.

One minute she’s bragging about her grandchild’s new boyfriend to the ladies in her swim aerobics class, the next she’s booked a flight to come and visit so she can meet him.

If you’d known what she was planning you would have confessed, but she’d already forked out the cash for her plane ticket so you swallowed your pride and begged Tim to help. He wouldn’t even have to do much, just spend the weekend nodding and smiling at an old woman’s stories and then he could reap the rewards of your eternal gratitude. You’d promised 6 months of undisputed lording it over you and a lifetime of freshly made cold brew.

Smile and nod, that’s all you expect, but apparently, that was too easy. Tim just had to make what was already an embarrassing situation, a million times worse. ‘Perfect grandson-in-law’, your ass.

[oliullah04]

Finding the Best Sunglasses for Your Face Shape: A Guide to Style and Comfort

Sunglasses are not just about protecting your eyes from the sun—they are a key accessory that can elevate your style and add confidence to your look. However, not all sunglasses are equal, and finding the best pair for your face shape can be tricky. Understanding the relationship between sunglasses and face shape is essential in choosing frames that enhance your features while offering comfort and UV protection. This guide will help you navigate sunglasses, ensuring you find the perfect pair for your unique face shape.

Understanding Your Face Shape: The First Step to Choosing Sunglasses

Before picking out a pair of sunglasses, it’s essential to understand your face shape. Your face shape plays a significant role in how different frames will look and feel. There are generally six main face shapes: oval, round, square, heart, diamond, and oblong. Each face shape has distinct characteristics that complement specific sunglasses more than others.

Oval Face: Balanced proportions and rounded jawline.

Round Face: Full cheeks and rounded chin with a similar width and length.

Square Face: Strong jawline and angular features.

Heart Face: Wider forehead with a narrower chin.

Diamond Face: Narrow forehead and jawline with high cheekbones.

Oblong Face: Longer than it is wide, with a slightly elongated appearance.

Once you identify your face shape, you can make a more informed decision about which sunglasses will complement your features.

Why the Right Sunglasses for Your Face Shape Matter

The right pair of sunglasses can enhance your look and improve your comfort. Choosing sunglasses for your face shape can help balance any features you want to emphasise or minimise. For example, round sunglasses can soften angular features, while angular frames can add structure to a soft face.

Additionally, sunglasses for your face shape can provide better fit and comfort, preventing issues such as slipping or pressing against your temples. A well-fitting pair will stay in place and provide optimum UV protection, ensuring your eyes are shielded from harmful rays without sacrificing style.

Best Sunglasses for Round Faces: Frames That Add Definition

Round faces tend to have soft, curvy lines, with the width and length roughly equal. To balance this, you want sunglasses that add structure and length to your face. Angular frames can help achieve this effect.

Recommended Styles:

Rectangular or square sunglasses

Geometric frames

Wayfarers

Browline sunglasses

These styles work by elongating your face and making it appear more defined. Look for frames with sharp lines or wider than the broadest part of your face. Avoid round frames, as they can make your face look even rounder.

Sunglasses for Oval Faces: Enhancing Your Balanced Features

An oval face is often considered the ideal shape due to its balanced proportions. If you have an oval face, you have the flexibility to experiment with various sunglasses styles. However, it's best to choose frames that maintain the harmony of your face's proportions while adding personality.

Recommended Styles:

Oval or round sunglasses

Square or rectangular frames

Cat-eye frames

Frames as wide as or slightly wider than the broadest part of your face will work well. Oval faces can pull off almost any shape, so it’s about selecting sunglasses that suit your style.

Square Faces: Softer Frames for a More Balanced Look

You likely have a strong jawline and angular features if you have a square face. The key to choosing the best sunglasses for square faces is to soften the angles and add contrast to the sharp features.

Recommended Styles:

Round or oval frames

Aviators

Oversized sunglasses

Round or oval frames help soften the strong angles of a square face. Curved lenses help balance the sharp lines of your jaw and forehead, creating a more harmonious look. Avoid boxy frames, as they can accentuate your face's angles.

Sunglasses for Heart-Shaped Faces: Embrace Wider Frames

A broad forehead and narrow chin characterise heart-shaped faces. To complement this shape, you want sunglasses that draw attention away from the forehead and add width to the lower part of the face.

Recommended Styles:

Cat-eye sunglasses

Round frames

Oval frames

Frames that are wider at the bottom can help balance a heart-shaped face. Look for sunglasses with a strong horizontal emphasis to add fullness to your jawline. Cat-eye frames, in particular, work well by lifting the eyes and drawing attention to the cheekbones.

Diamond-Shaped Faces: Add Softness and Contrast

Diamond-shaped faces often feature high cheekbones with a narrow forehead and chin. The key to choosing the best sunglasses for this shape is to soften the sharp angles of the face and draw attention to the eyes and cheekbones.

Recommended Styles:

Oval or round sunglasses

Cat-eye frames

Semi-rimless frames

These styles will add balance to your face, drawing attention to the eyes and cheekbones while minimising the angularity of your forehead and jawline. Oval or round frames are perfect for adding softness to the sharpness of your features.

Oblong Faces: Create Balance and Proportions

Oblong faces tend to be longer than wide, with a slightly narrow appearance. To balance your face's length, choose sunglasses that provide width and structure.

Recommended Styles:

Oversized frames

Wide rectangular sunglasses

Square frames

Look for sunglasses that add horizontal volume to your face. Oversized frames or those with bold lines will help balance the length of your face. Avoid extended, narrow frames, as they can accentuate the length of your face.

Sunglasses for Your Face Shape: Consider Your Style

While face shape is important, it's also essential to consider your style when choosing sunglasses. Your choice should reflect your unique taste, whether you prefer classic, bold, or sporty designs. For example, aviators are great for those with a vintage flair, while modern, minimalistic frames are perfect for a sleek and contemporary look.

Additionally, consider how often you plan to wear your sunglasses and in what context. If you're looking for a versatile option, choose classic shapes and neutral colours that work for various occasions. Experiment with colours and unique shapes if you want something more fun and trendy.

Sunglasses Materials: Durability and Comfort

When choosing sunglasses for your face shape, it's essential to consider the style and materials. The right materials can ensure that your sunglasses are durable and comfortable.

Popular Materials:

Acetate: Lightweight, durable, and comfortable

Metal: Sleek, stylish, and often adjustable

Plastic: Affordable, versatile, and available in many colours

Choose a material that feels comfortable on your face and suits your lifestyle. For example, if you need sunglasses for outdoor activities, use a lightweight and durable material like acetate or metal. If comfort is your priority, opt for frames with adjustable nose pads for a customised fit.

UV Protection: The Most Important Feature in Sunglasses

While style is essential, sunglasses' primary function is to protect your eyes from harmful UV rays. Regardless of your face shape, choosing sunglasses that offer 100% UV protection is crucial. This feature helps prevent eye strain, premature ageing of the skin around the eyes, and long-term eye damage.

Look for sunglasses labelled with UV400 protection, ensuring they block UVA and UVB rays. Even if you choose stylish sunglasses, don't compromise on eye safety. Quality sunglasses will keep you looking good and protect your vision.

The Right Fit: Comfort and Style Go Hand in Hand

Finding the perfect pair of sunglasses involves more than selecting a style that suits your face shape—it’s also about ensuring a comfortable fit. Sunglasses should sit comfortably on your nose and ears without pinching or slipping.

When trying sunglasses, ensure the frames are not too tight or loose. They should stay in place while you move without leaving marks on your face. Adjustable nose pads and flexible temples can help you achieve a comfortable fit. Make sure to choose sunglasses that feel secure and balanced for long-term wear.

Trends in Sunglasses: Stay Stylish and On-Trend

Sunglasses trends constantly evolve, but the right pair for your face shape will remain timeless. Whether you're into retro cat-eye frames, minimalist metal designs, or oversized sunglasses, pick a pair that makes you feel confident.

Trends may come and go, but sunglasses that flatter your face shape will always be in style. Remember, it's not about following the crowd; it's about finding sunglasses for your face shape that make you feel great. Whether you're after function, fashion, or both, the perfect pair is out there waiting for you.

Considering both style and comfort, you'll have sunglasses that protect your eyes and elevate your overall look.

[acid-ixx]

brutus: just a burning memory (villain au concept)

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist !

a/n: just a tiny excerpt i want to post regarding this because i want more conner kent content but make it angst after i posted smth spicy HAHAH. guys plsplspls i encourage all the comments. hell, even a single one inspired me to write this little drabble. i may not reply to all of them, but i read and cherish them with all my heart 🩷 i've been writing more these days and it's interactions and comments that drive me to write even more for this fandom so please, i'm on my knees.

tags: @sweetconnoisseurgardener, @winter-world, @bunbunbread, @thypplover.

"sweetheart— you're..." his voice, unsure and wispy, comes out in little quivers. wide, blue eyes stare at the silhouette of your all-too familiar, yet foreign body.

how could he not remember you, when it is only your the thrum of heartbeats that he cherishes in his memories? the shape of your hips in his hands? the puff of your cheeks he burned into his retina every time he blinks?

yet now you're too stiff, too sharp and out of place, a hint of expertise on your pose, as if it's ready to fight him, conner, your once beloved.

what happened...?

there was no softness in the shape of your shadow, no hands that fight the urge to run to him just to feel the warmth of his body, no yielding gazes fluttering up nor your nuzzled head rested on his chest.

the scar of your sudden break-up burns into his flesh the more he witnesses you come out of the shadow of the walls you're disguised in.

too different, too familiar, the seams of his poorly stitched heart rip once he sees you, once angelic now looking like you've fallen from grace, still so beautiful, still so poised yet poisonous— if he couldn't handle losing you back then, then he couldn't handle your reunion now.

he couldn't, no, not ever. he could never handle just how truly beautiful his soulmate is.

and right in front of him stands you... and he falls in love all over and over again, yet feels the fresh sting of heartbreak from all these years ago.

conner couldn't believe what was in front of him.

"what? i'm alive? changed? somethin' else? don't be so afraid to tell me, kon-baby." a new accent, from a different city, spoken in that alluring voice of yours, too gritty and sharp as a knife. cold, unforgiving eyes stare up at him like he was in enemy lines. there was no sentiment in your glare, no softness nor familiarity in your words.

it chips away at his heart, little by little.

there weren't enough words to describe how much he missed you, the way your sullen tone lightens at his presence, how you perfectly fit like a puzzle piece in his arms, your head burrowing into his neck and smelling his perfume. you say it's the only scent that calmed you down, that made your heart flutter 'cause it reminds you of him, it made his heart buzz at the sweet words.

ever since then, kon always made sure to wear that treasured perfume every single day after your confession, even after your disappearance did the use of that scent surge into his apartment, invading his sensitive nostrils like the plague. the fear of forgetting you, the memories of your precious giggles and calm intakes of air with him echoing all day in his solitude without you.

he misses those soft moments.

but this? whoever this is standing face to face with him is not you, the sharp sting of your words sound completely foreign, your laughter, once fluttery, now sounds manic as if your past affection for him was you merely telling a joke. the nickname you called him, his nickname that you oh-so fondly call him tastes bitter in his tongue.

unbelievable... there's something different about you, it's not the same you he's looking at anymore. he takes away his sunglasses hanging just below his nose, yet the image doesn't change.

you don't change into your old self, his heart breaks just a bit more.

yet he couldn't find the heart to attack you, standing frozen in his spot to take in your still-so ethereal form in his eyes, afraid that you'll disappear again; despite tim's warning signals on the new face of a villain.

he couldn't, because it's still you he's looking at.

you're still his sweetheart.

even if you don't share the same feathery whispers your voice had all those years ago. it's sharper, it stings conner's ears hearing the parched grate of your words, but his hearing still picks up the familiar innocence hidden behind it all; stained by the putrid world, corrupted until what's left was evil that he was so accustomed to dealing with.

he doesn't know what hurts more: your dead eyes losing its once angelic light, or how the same eyes stares at him like there was no romance that sparked between the narratives of your lives in the first place.

"... oh, (name)-sweetie, please tell me what happened...?" it hurts to talk, he had thought those therapy sessions with his other teammates could help him rebound with the break-up, but years of anguish don't heal, it builds up and it breaks at the slightest reminder of the past. it'll hurt either way, nothing helps.

nobody could truly control your true feelings. not even yourself.

losing his first, his one and only true love, that made him feel like he's deserving of existing in this world, that united the scars of being human and kryptonian; never knowing which side you're bound to be— calling him by his name, so sweetly and lovingly, the flutter of your voice curing all ails, feeling like the soft breeze of spring kissing his skin.

the sudden withdrawal of it all, the emptiness and befuddling emotions that comes after, losing someone who held the lock and key to your heart, whilst no answers are supplied in your thoughts from all the mind-numbing questions swirling inside your head—

it could break anyone, and it had broken conner.

conner just couldn't bury the tightening knot on his chest, how his throat seems to close in on itself, or the tears that began stinging the corners of his eyes.

"well you said it yourself, baby. people change, time changes and nothin' ever stays the same."

you speak as if your words are absolute, you don't even bother pretending to be happy at your reunion, you don't see conner as your beloved anymore.

"this is... this shouldn't be..."

happening? or was there a clawing notion in his heart that hoped with even your eventual change, that you'll still cherish him with all your soul despite the transformation, despite turning into a wanted criminal from across the nation?

because he could've understood, the neglect from your family, the emotional and even physical abuse, the misunderstood arguments and unheard requests. in all your special occasions, your birthdays, hell, even graduations and important milestones in your life, you're mistreated and broken. conner understood what it's like being rejected by the people you idolize, it's what made him notice you in the first place.

he could've helped hide you in a more safer threshold so nobody could hurt you anymore. all he really wanted was to be your sole exception to the corruption in your heart.

after all, he's still a man in love, bound by the precious memories and the neverending affection he feels for you, his soulmate. nothing in the world can change his dedication to see you smile, no matter how crooked and sadistic it is now— he was charged by your presence alone; you are, and always will be his motivation.

but you don't cherish him, you're different in a way that treats him differently too. and he doesn't want that, he doesn't want to be denied your love that he seeks in this cruel world. you're the only person in this universe that could topple the walls in his heart.

conner doesn't want to stand in his spot, looking at you any longer. at your cruel, yet beautifully glowing eyes and your body that he wishes to rest his clammy fingers on. he wants to kiss you, he wants to touch and feel you personally, forget all the mishaps you both went through just to spend another night alone together under the moonlight, dancing with the breeze of gotham's polluted and singing to the shouts of its citizens...

now all the questions form into a singular entity. it's what shatters his heart to pieces in the end, because you refuse to answer still. you refuse with a sadistic smile and a harsh laugh, going off in a tangent he couldn't understand; he wishes to understand with what's going on in your brain.

conner just wants to understand you, even if you're different now, because he still loves you.

so what happened to you...?

who took away conner's precious sweetheart?

[mcrdvcks]

dress ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

chapter summary: You and Logan take a tropical vacation for the new year.

'there is an indentation in the shape of you only bought this dress so you could take it off you made your mark on me, golden tattoo'

word count: 2.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is inspired by this post from @yxtkiwiyxt. i saw it and couldn't get it out of my head (also because i'm ovulating, and also because hugh in australia makes me weak!!!)

anyways, happy new year, and i hope y'all like this!

warnings/tags: you and logan are married, fluff, pet names, smut, porn with little to no plot, slight exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), fingering, handjob, unprotected piv, creampie

If someone would’ve asked you if Logan knew how to swim, you would’ve floundered. Because the truth was you weren’t sure if your husband could actually swim or not.

But since you and Logan have been on the beach for the past few days for the new year you learned the he, in fact, can swim.

And looked quite good while doing it.

So, while Logan swam in the waves, after you put sunscreen on him even after he protested saying “I heal, ‘member?”, you sunbathed with a large sunhat and sunglasses and your tiny bikini.

As you lounged on your towel, soaking up the warmth of the sun, you occasionally glanced up from behind your sunglasses to watch Logan in the water. He was all broad shoulders and toned muscles, cutting through the waves like he was born to it.

When he caught you staring, he smirked and shouted, “Enjoyin’ the view?”

You tilted your sunglasses down just enough to meet his gaze. “Absolutely. Keep showing off.”

Logan chuckled, shaking water out of his hair like a dog, and waded back toward you. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’re comin’ in.”

“No, I’m not,” you said, leaning back and adjusting your sunhat. “This is prime relaxation time.”

He crouched beside you, droplets of water rolling off him and landing on your skin, making you squeal. “C’mon, darlin’. You can’t come to the beach and not get in the water.”

You reached for a towel and swatted at him. “I can and I will. Some of us don’t heal instantly if we scrape against a rock.”

Logan’s grin widened. “You’re no fun.”

“And you’re dripping all over me,” you shot back, laughing as he deliberately shook his head again to spray you. “Logan!”

He plopped down on the sand beside you, his smirk unrepentant. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

“You’re such a child,” you teased, throwing the towel at his chest.

He caught it easily, using it to wipe his face before tossing it aside. “You love it.”

“Sometimes I wonder why,” you teased, knowing full well why.

Logan leaned back on his elbows, his eyes roaming over you with open appreciation. “Can’t say I hate this view either,” he said, his tone dipping into something softer.

Your face warmed, but you kept your cool. “Careful. You’re starting to sound sweet.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, but his expression stayed warm.

After a beat, he reached over and tugged on the brim of your sunhat. “Seriously though, you comin’ in or not?”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, smirking. “Maybe after I finish my nap.”

Logan rolled his eyes and stood, brushing sand off his legs. “Fine. But when I come back, you’re not gettin’ out of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he jogged back toward the water, calling over his shoulder, “Better be ready!”

---

You walked out of the cabana the two of you rented while Logan stood at the patio, smoking his cigar waiting for you. He turned around and looked at your outfit before stubbing the cigar in the palm of his hand.

“Your wearin’ that out?”

“Yeah, why?” It was a simple outfit, nothing more than a bikini set with a matching mesh swim maxi skirt.

"Nothin’. Just gettin’ prepared to punch someone when he tries to get handsy," Logan said, his tone casual, but the look he gave you was anything but.

You raised an eyebrow, adjusting the strap of your bag. "Oh, so you’re on bodyguard duty now?"

"Always," he said, stepping closer to wrap an arm around your waist. "Can’t let anyone get ideas, princess."

You rolled your eyes but leaned into him anyway. "You’re ridiculous."

"Ridiculously in love with you," Logan smirked, brushing a kiss to your temple. "Now, c’mon. You said somethin’ about pancakes?"

"Yeah, there’s a diner down the street," you said, trying to hide your smile. "I heard they have good coffee too."

"Better be, or we’re never comin’ back," Logan muttered, grabbing his wallet from the patio table.

As the two of you walked toward the diner, Logan kept his hand resting on the small of your back. The streets were quiet, the morning sun warming everything up nicely.

"So," you teased as you glanced at him, "are you gonna threaten the waiter too if he smiles at me?"

Logan’s lips twitched. "Depends. He got a death wish?"

You nudged him playfully with your shoulder. "Behave, Logan."

"I’ll try," he said, smirking. "But no promises, sweetheart."

When you reached the diner, the smell of coffee and bacon wafted through the air. A cheerful hostess greeted you with a bright smile. Logan’s eyes narrowed just a touch, but he didn’t say anything as you both followed her to a booth near the window.

The moment you slid into the seat, Logan leaned back in his chair and studied the menu. "What’re you gettin’?"

"Probably the blueberry pancakes," you said, scanning your own menu. "You?"

"Steak and eggs," he said without hesitation. "Always steak and eggs."

"Of course," you teased. "You ever get tired of being so predictable?"

"Nope," Logan said, setting the menu down. "You love it."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

The waitress came by to take your orders, and Logan couldn’t resist throwing in a gruff "make the coffee strong" with his request. You bit back a grin as the waitress nodded and walked away.

"You’re impossible," you said once she was out of earshot.

"And yet, here you are," Logan said, reaching across the table to take your hand. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and for a moment, his expression softened. "Not that I’m complainin’, princess."

"Good," you said, lacing your fingers with his. "Because you’re stuck with me."

Logan smirked, his grip tightening just a little. "Wouldn’t have it any other way."

---

You finished tying off your bikini as you stepped outside onto the patio of your cabana. Logan had just reached the steps when he stopped at the bottom and looked up at you.

“Ya sure you want to go swimmin’? ‘Cause I can think of somethin’ better to do.”

You planted a hand on your hip, tilting your head at him. “A few days ago, you were practically begging me to get in the water.”

Logan’s grin widened as he took the stairs two at a time to meet you on the patio. His hands found your hips immediately, thumbs brushing the bare skin above your bikini bottoms. “Yeah, but now I got you here, lookin’ like that.”

You rolled your eyes, but your breath hitched when his fingers pressed just a little harder into your sides. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re irresistible, sweetheart.” His voice dipped low as he tugged you closer. “Don’t blame me for havin’ my priorities straight.”

“The water’s gonna be great,” you tried, but even you didn’t sound convinced.

Logan smirked. “So’s this.” His lips were on yours before you could argue, the kiss deep and insistent, his hands sliding to your lower back to press you against him. The heat of his body, combined with the sun warming your skin, had your pulse racing in seconds.

You broke away, barely catching your breath. “Logan…”

“Mhm?” His mouth was already trailing down your jaw, his scruff rough but deliciously familiar.

“We’re outside.”

“No one’s around,” he murmured, lips brushing the sensitive spot below your ear. “And I’ll stop if you tell me to.”

You didn’t tell him to stop.

Instead, you let out a shaky exhale as his hands slid lower, gripping your hips firmly before guiding you toward the lounge chair on the patio. Logan sat, pulling you to stand between his legs as his hands roamed, his touch searing.

“Gotta say,” he said, looking up at you with a wicked grin, “I’m likin’ this view.”

“You’re impossible,” you said, but your voice lacked any real protest.

Logan just smirked, his hands sliding up to the tie of your bikini top. “Let me prove how good impossible can be.”

Your knees nearly buckled when he leaned forward, his lips brushing the curve of your stomach. He untied the strings with a precision that made you wonder if he’d practiced on purpose, and before you knew it, your top was discarded on the chair beside him. His gaze darkened as he looked at you, the intensity in his eyes making your skin flush even hotter.

“Logan…” you started, but whatever you were about to say was swallowed by a gasp when he pulled you down onto his lap, his hands spreading over your thighs to hold you steady.

“Relax, princess,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. “I’ve got you.”

And he did. Logan always did.

Before you could think too much about it, his hands gripped your hips again, guiding you down to lie back on the lounge chair. He followed, lips trailing down your neck, your chest, lower and lower until you were arching beneath him, fingers curling into his hair.

“Logan…”

“What?” he murmured against your skin, his tone smug but affectionate. “Told ya this was a better idea.”

You couldn’t even argue, not when he was kissing his way down your stomach, his hands slipping beneath the waistband of your bikini bottoms. He tugged them down slowly, teasingly, and you swore he chuckled when you squirmed.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he said, the smirk evident in his voice.

“You’re the one who—oh,” your words cut off in a sharp intake of breath as his mouth found its mark, his tongue working magic that made your thoughts scatter completely. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he focused entirely on you, the roughness of his scruff contrasting perfectly with the soft heat of his tongue.

You bit down on your lip to muffle the sounds escaping you, but Logan wasn’t having it. He pulled back just enough to look up at you, his lips glistening. “Don’t hold back, princess. Wanna hear you.”

Your breath hitched at the way he said it, at the sheer hunger in his voice. And when he went back to work, you didn’t bother trying to stay quiet anymore.

Logan growled his approval, the sound vibrating against your skin and sending shockwaves through your body. You clutched at the chair’s edges, your nails digging into the fabric as he pushed you higher and higher, his name falling from your lips like a mantra.

By the time he finally came up for air, his grin was nothing short of predatory. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Told ya, sweetheart,” he said, his voice rough but full of amusement. “Better than swimmin’.”

You glared at him half-heartedly, still trying to catch your breath. “You’re insufferable.” You put a finger in the waistband of his swim shorts, tugging him closer. “But you better finish what you’ve started.”

Logan’s grin turned wicked as he leaned in, kissing his way back up your body. Each press of his lips left a trail of heat, starting at your hip and moving slowly, deliberately, up your stomach, your ribs, and finally to the soft curve of your breast. He bit gently at your skin, just enough to make you gasp, before his tongue soothed the spot.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low rumble, “I always finish what I start.”

His hands slid to your hips, gripping firmly as he repositioned you, tugging you up until you were sitting astride him. Logan’s swim shorts were gone in one swift motion, discarded carelessly onto the patio. He leaned back on the chair, pulling you with him until his broad chest was flush against your back. His hands roamed over your thighs, squeezing possessively before sliding upward.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice rough and full of want. “Perfect.”

You shifted slightly, adjusting yourself over him as his hands moved up to cup your breasts. He kneaded them gently, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, drawing a soft moan from you.

“That’s it,” Logan said, his lips brushing your ear. “Let me hear you, princess.”

You reached down, your fingers grazing his length, and he let out a low growl at the contact. Slowly, you wrapped your hand around him, stroking with a firm but teasing grip. His hips bucked slightly into your touch, and you couldn’t help the smug smile that spread across your face.

“Someone’s impatient,” you teased, your tone breathy but playful.

“Sweetheart,” Logan said, his voice strained, “if you keep that up, I’ll lose my damn mind.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head back against his shoulder as your hand moved in a steady rhythm. Logan’s hand slid lower, his fingers slipping between your legs to find your slick heat. He groaned, his lips pressing against your neck as he worked you open with slow, deliberate strokes.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his fingers curling just right. “So ready for me.”

You whimpered, your hips grinding down against his hand as he pushed you closer to the edge. Your free hand reached back to grip his wrist, stopping him just as you felt yourself teetering.

“Logan,” you said, your voice shaky but firm. “I need you. Now.”

His breath hitched at your words, and he withdrew his fingers, letting you guide him. You positioned yourself, the anticipation making your whole body tremble, and then you slowly sank down onto him. The stretch was intoxicating, and the low growl Logan let out made your pulse race.

“That’s it,” he said, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Atta girl.”

You took him inch by inch, your breath hitching as he filled you completely. Once you were settled, his hands slid up your sides, holding you steady as you adjusted to the feel of him. Logan’s lips found the curve of your shoulder, pressing kisses there as his thumbs brushed the sensitive skin above your hips.

"Sweet girl," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "So perfect."

You let out a soft laugh, tilting your head back to rest against his shoulder. "You’re not so bad yourself, Lo."

Logan chuckled, the sound vibrating through your back. His hands moved to your thighs, gripping firmly as he guided your movements. "C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s see what you’ve got."

You rolled your hips experimentally, the sensation drawing a sharp inhale from both of you. Encouraged, you began to move in a steady rhythm, each roll of your hips earning a low growl of approval from Logan.

"That’s it," he said, his voice rough with need. "Just like that."

Your hands found his thighs, using them for leverage as you moved. "God, Logan," you breathed, your voice shaky. "You feel so good."

"You’re the one makin’ it good, princess," he said, his hands sliding back to your hips. He squeezed gently, helping you find a faster pace. "Look at you, takin’ me so well."

You couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped you, the combination of his words and his touch sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Logan’s hands moved up, one sliding to rest on your stomach while the other cupped your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple.

"Logan," you gasped, your movements faltering slightly as the sensation overwhelmed you.

"I’ve got you," he said, his lips brushing against your ear. "Don’t stop now, sweetheart. Keep goin’."

You pushed yourself to keep moving, the friction and the heat building with every motion. Logan’s hand on your stomach slid lower, his fingers finding the spot where your bodies joined. He teased you there, his touch light but deliberate.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice trembling. "Don’t stop, honey."

Logan’s breath hitched at the endearment, and his touch became firmer, more insistent. "Never, sweetheart. Wanna make you fall apart for me."

Your pace quickened, spurred on by his words and the sensations he was coaxing from you. The sound of your breathing mingled with his low groans, the air around you thick with heat and need. Logan’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he met your movements with thrusts of his own.

"So good," he muttered, his voice rough and broken. "You’re so damn good, princess."

"Logan," you said again, his name a breathless plea. "I—I’m close."

"I know," he said, his tone softening just a bit. "I’ve got you, sweet girl. Just let go for me."

With one final roll of your hips, you felt the tension snap, your release washing over you in waves. You cried out, your hands clutching at his thighs as your movements stilled. Logan’s hand on your stomach held you steady as he continued to move, chasing his own release. It didn’t take long; a low growl rumbled in his chest as he buried himself deep, his grip on you firm as he followed you over the edge.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the only sound the soft crash of waves in the distance and your labored breathing. Logan’s hands slid up your sides, wrapping around your waist to hold you close.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice rough but gentle.

You nodded, leaning back against him. "Better than okay," you said, your voice soft but satisfied. "You’re unbelievable."

Logan chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Right back at ya, princess."

You stayed like that for a while, basking in the warmth of the sun and each other. Logan’s hands continued to roam lazily over your skin, his touch comforting and possessive. When he finally spoke again, his voice was tinged with amusement.

"Still think swimmin’ was the better idea?"

You laughed softly, turning your head to meet his gaze. "Not even close, Lo. Not even close."

[ultimate-shipper-blog]

I'll Send an SOS to Your Heart

-------

"Ok, I'm imagining things."

Steve is laying on his bed watching his lights flicker.

He plugged in one of those space projectors that's supposed to make your ceiling look like the night sky.

It's not weird that they're flickering, the light was a dollar at Melvads he wasn't expecting it to work long.

The weird part is that the stars keep making a heart shape.

He sees the heart flash a couple of times before he flips over and hides deeper into his pillow.

"No." He groans. "No more upside down shit."

If some upside-down monster was flirting with him he quits.

All the lights in his room surge to maximum brightness.

"Fuck off."

The lights draw a middle finger.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" He jumps out of bed and points at the orbs.

It draws a winky face. (;P)

"Who are you?"

His blood runs cold. An upside down monster can't flirt with him. They don't know English. He has an idea but it can't be true.

They left him there. He's dead.

...isn't he?

'SOS' the lights read.

"Fuck." Tears spring to his eyes. "Eddie?"

'Hiya'

-----

He spends a while talking to Eddie.

It's tough.

It takes a while to write everything out and Steve is still trying not to hyperventilate or cry or pass out so it's taking a lot of energy to keep up the conversation.

'Sleep?'

"No."

'?'

"Nothing I'm just...not tired."

'Liar'

"WHAT! I'm not I just-"

'-_-'

"Fine."

':)'

"I'm scared."

'Me?'

"No, I'm scared this is a dream. That I fell asleep hours ago and I made you out of my guilty conscious. I just don't want to lose you...again."

'Back'

"Back?"

'Bring back'

"Bring...you back?"

'YES'

"You think we can bring you back?"

'Plan'

"Yes! I'll call everyone we can figure it out. Oh! We have El to help us this time! You're gonna love her Eds she's just like the kids you look out for and she's magic! I'll call them right-"

'NO'

"No?"

'tom- sleep now'

"I think this is a little more important than-"

'Sleep <3'

Steve looks over at the clock, 4 am.

Shit.

"Ok. I'm going to sleep. Will you...will you be here in the morning?"

'W STEVIE'

"Ok. Goodnight Eddie."

'GN <3'

----

The plan goes off without a hitch.

It takes them about two weeks to formulate and execute the plan.

Steve spends his days and nights talking to Eddie, keeping him updated. Keeping him in his life.

He speed runs a crisis or two when he realizes he wants to spend the remainder of his days speaking to Eddie.

He can't wait until he's here with him.

Alive.

-----

So it's more complicated than he thought.

Maybe there's a hoard or bats blocking them from Eddie.

Maybe Steve throws himself in front of the kids and fights off the creatures long enough for them to find Eddie and get him back home.

Maybe Steve bleeds a little too much and collapsed as soon as they reach the other side.

----

He wakes in the hospital to nine pairs of eyes staring at him.

They're all arguing with each other. Their voices low as if they're trying not to wake them.

He wants to talk he wants to reach out.

Eddie is standing by the door in a baseball cap and sunglasses as if he was trying to be inconspicuous.

As if Eddie could ever hide from Steve. Steve would find him anywhere he is.

God, he's here! He's in the room! All this time apart and he's so close!

"Mphahhpsh" he can't form words but it doesn't matter.

Everyone stops and Eddie's eyes meet his. His eyes look wet and he looks skinny and exhausted.

He's never looked more beautiful.

Eddie's eyes turn down into a determined glare. He pushes past everyone until he's inches away from Steve.

He takes a deep breath and then leans down and kisses him.

Flat on the mouth. In front of everyone.

The shocked noises are what pulls them apart.

"I'm so happy to see you, I really like you," Steve says.

"That's my line." Eddie smiles and kisses him again.

"Don't ever try to save me again I can't ever see you in a hospital again," Eddie presses their noses together.

"That's my line."

Eddie chuckles and pushes his nose into Steve's cheek. "Dork."

"Yes, yes, you're both terrible. Now what the fuck is happening."

They break apart to see the crews shocked faces. Mike's face is pale and Dustin is an interesting shade of red.

Robin is staring at him a little proud.

He sends a wink her way and pulls Eddie in closer.

They'll figure it all out later. They have time.

----

This started with once sentence in my brain and grew into three different plot points I put together in a rush. :P

Please comment I love to read em!

[physics-of-one-piece]

I Take Care of You Now

Doflamingo x Reader

Summary: After a night of a heavy snow storm and rainfall on the North Blue Sea, Doflamingo gets woken up by the scraping of a snow shovel on deck.

A/N: A little short one-shot that I’ll implement into the main Red Suit Doffy Fic Merlot & Primroses but it can stand as a stand alone, too, so I decided to send it here. As I said in a post, Doflamingo’s core values he was raised with are something he sticks to. Also... I'm going to hell. I'm going to hell I'm going to hell I'm going to heeeeeeell...

but at least the Heavenly Demon is there 😊🤭🫡

P.S. I wanted to post this at 8pm it's 4pm, the Save Draft went into Post but it's complete so.... Enjoy? 🤣🤣 (I hate you, tumblr) (cry laughs)

Word Count: 3k

Tags: Pre-Relationship, Female!Reader, Rosinante's Wife!Reader, Doflamingo POV, North Blue Era Doflamingo, Red Suit Doflamingo, Fluff, Humor, Cuddling For Warmth, Mentions of Fratricide, Nightmares, Longing, Doflamingo is in Love, Protective Doflamingo, Post Minion Island, Girldad Doflamingo, Dadmingo, Soft Doflamingo (kind of), Donquixote Family, One Shot Fic

Doflamingo is back in the snow again. The white thick layer of it crunches under his boots as he walks. There is snow falling, wild and strong, chilly wind pushing at his face.

There is someone lying on the snow. He knows who it is. The blackened feathers give him away; Doflamingo’s clumsy little brother.

At last, Doflamingo reached him. Rosinante’s lipstick-painted mouth is moving. No sound is coming out of Rosinante’s lips. Doflamingo squats down beside his brother. Maybe if he’s closer, he’ll hear the words his younger brother is saying.

Rosinante’s mouth keeps moving, shaping the words over and over again. He keeps looking at Doflamingo, but no sound is coming out.

What is he saying?

I love you?

I hate you?

I’m sorry?

Don’t touch my wife?

I’ll kill you?

Which is it?

Doflamingo should’ve learned to read lips.

Doflamingo wakes with a gasp, sitting up in his sleeping bag. His face is wet, covered in sweat, and he barely registers a yelp from Baby 5 who’d slept atop his stomach and hugged him for additional warmth during the storm falling off him and on his lap covered by the sleeping bag’s duvet.

Doflamingo realizes he’s without his sunglasses because the world isn’t tinted red. The sudden assault of colors and sunlight illuminating through the portholes makes him blink. Continuing to pant, he reaches for the white-framed sunglasses and mounts them atop the bridge of his nose.

He pants for a little longer, then swallows down. His throat feels dry. He needs to get some wine.

“Young Master?” Baby 5’s careful, hesitating voice reaches his ear. “Are you okay?”

Doflamingo puts on a smile, if not for his sake, then for Baby 5’s. He hates seeing her distraught or hurt. A child should never worry about an adult. It's the greatest disgrace.

“Just a bad dream.” he replied, huffing. “Could you get me a merlot from the wine cabinet?”

“We aren’t allowed to open the wine cabinet.” Baby 5 said, frowning.

“I’m giving you permission,” said Doflamingo. He needs wine, right now. “So go get the merlot for me.”

“Y/N-san said you shouldn’t drink that much...” Baby 5 murmured, continuing to look at him worriedly.

“Who’s the captain here, me or my sister-in-law?” he asked, chuckling. It’s rich of you to scold him on his alcohol abuse when your own husband had been a nicotine-inhaling addict. Rosinante went through one entire pack of cigarettes in a day. How on earth you wanted to kiss his brother or even marry him, Doflamingo would never know.

“You are, Young Master!”

“I don’t know…” mused Doflamingo, making a show of doubt. “Maybe I should let my sister-in-law lead…”

“She doesn’t know how to sail! Or how to be a pirate!” said Baby 5 panically.

“Is that so? I guess I’m staying as captain, then…” He gave a dramatic sigh, fighting not to burst out laughing on the spot. “Too bad, I was looking forward to retirement…”

“You’re not even old!” Baby 5 yelled.

Doflamingo laughed.

“Young Master?”

“What is it?” asked Doflamingo.

“Do you think (Y/N)-san hates living with us?” asked Baby 5.

Doflamingo blinked. Now, he knew you would rather throw yourself in the sea than say anything negative to the kids or be hateful toward them. It was one of your weaknesses he used in his favor to endear you to living with him, after all. What made Baby 5 think that, was what he wanted to know.

"Did she ever say that?” Doflamingo asked.

“No,�� said Baby 5, shaking her head. “But... she gets sad a lot... and she seems to like being alone rather than with the rest of the officers.” She cast her gaze away, looking truly sad. “It reminds me of Corazón. He didn’t like hanging around any of us, either...”

Doflamingo was rather impressed. Baby 5 started truly being aware of her environment and how people act around each other. Her observation skills were getting very good for someone as young as her — even Buffalo, who was six years older than her, wasn’t this aware of people.

Doflamingo found his chest swell with pride.

“Don’t worry. Unlike with Corazón, I’m keeping a close eye on her. You forgot she’s a civilian. Civilians are terrified of pirates on instinct. All her life, she’s heard terrible stories about pirates, so of course she won’t feel safe with the officers, or Pica, Trebol, Diamante or me right away. We’re big, we fight, we kill, we rob, we torture, and we have Devil Fruit powers. Civilians run from that, because they’re powerless.”

“I forgot about that,” said Baby 5. “That she’s a civilian.”

Doflamingo laughed. “How so?”

“Because... She’s really fierce!” insisted Baby 5.

Doflamingo chuckled. “She was a marine’s wife. Of course she’s fierce. Just because she’s powerless doesn’t mean she’ll let herself be stepped on. It’s what I like about her.”

Yes. Doflamingo liked that about you very much. It turned him on. Very much. Doflamingo licked his lips.

“Why does she seem sad with me and Dellinger, too?” asked Baby 5, pouting.

“You’re orphans. You had nowhere to go, and became pirates. She pities you, because she thinks it’s unfair toward you. She’s sad because she knows that’s how cruel the world can be.”

“She pities us,” said Doflamingo, shrugging. “It’s not coming from a bad place like others do. Her pity is genuine. She doesn’t mean anything ill with it.”

“I don’t want her to pity us.” said Baby 5. “I want her to -”

“To what?” asked Doflamingo, tilting his head down to the girl, intrigued.

“To love us.” said Baby 5.

“Fufufu! She does love us. She’s just too stubborn to admit it. After all,” Doflamingo smiled. “No civilian is supposed to love pirates. That’d be treason.”

“Really?” Baby 5 asked, eyes full of hope. “She loves us?”

“Really. So don’t worry, okay?” said Doflamingo.

“Okay,” said Baby 5, her smile blooming back onto her face.

“Good girl,” he said, patting her head. “Now, go get me my merlot. And get yourself some bottled water, too.”

“Yes, sir!” chirped Baby 5.

While Baby 5 headed to the kitchen and the wine cabinet, Doflamingo cracked his neck, then got out of his pink sleeping bag. The sleeping bag beside him — where you slept last night — was empty.

He frowned. What was taking you so long in the bathroom? Maybe it was that time of the month for you. He knew there were supplies in the women’s bathroom, so he wasn’t too worried about that.

He’d give you a few more minutes before he went looking for you.

His long legs cracked as he stretched them out, same with his arms.

Baby 5 came back, carrying his bottle of wine and bottled water for herself. Doflamingo took it, undid the clasp, and chugged it down in droves, basking in the liquid pouring down his throat and into his stomach, warming up his body.

“Did you see my sister-in-law?” Doflamingo asked when he was done, bottle half empty now.

“I don’t know,” replied Baby 5 sleepily, rubbing at the crust in her eyes, giving a little yawn. “Maybe the bathroom?”

“Go wake the cook to make us breakfast and hot chocolate,” he said to Baby 5.

“Yes, sir. Um, Young Master...”

“What?”

“I think there’s someone on deck,” whispered Baby 5.

There was scraping on the deck outside. Doflamingo’s Observation Haki didn’t pick up any threat from the person. It could be a fishman or someone stranded on the island.

“It could be a Klabautermann,” said Doflamingo, chuckling. Now wouldn’t that be interesting.

“Klabautermann?” repeated Baby 5.

“It’s a legend.” Doflamingo explained. “If a ship is very loved by the crew, it develops its own spirit in the shape of a fairy.”

“Fairy?!” asked Baby 5 in excitement.

Doflamingo chuckled in confirmation, tracing his gaze over the officers and top officers strewn on the floor of the galley, counting everyone else who was present. You were the only one missing.

“A human-shaped fairy wearing a white sailor’s coat and a pair of shoes.” he explained. “It carries a small wooden hammer, because it fixes up a damaged ship. Ours isn’t damaged, though.”

At least, Doflamingo hoped it wasn’t.

“Oh,” said Baby 5. “I thought it would be a pink flamingo wearing Young Master’s sunglasses, just like the figurehead.”

Doflamingo laughed. “It could be! That’d be fun!”

“What if it’s a ghost?” she asked with slight fright; she’d heard too many ghost stories from Law and Buffalo.

Doflamingo gave Baby 5 one of his grins, the malicious ones which he knows comfort her. To Baby 5, violence equals protection.

“You think a ghost can beat me?” he asked her. “They’re free to try, fufufufufu!”

After some more coaxing and assuring her everything would be fine, Baby 5 left for the kitchen again to wake the ship cook.

Doflamingo grabbed his feather coat where it lay spread on the couch, stepping over a sleeping Gladius and Diamante.

Now, why were they all huddled up in the galley with sleeping bags?

The simple answer was bad weather.

They’d been in a heavy snow storm last night. It was Dellinger’s first heavy snow storm. He cried and ran around in a panic the entire time. He had to be grabbed three times from launching himself overboard and into the sea. Dellinger connected the sea with safety, because it was always safe for him to go into the sea; he always fled there if he was about to get scolded — it was becoming a real problem and at this point, Doflamingo was going to listen to Trebol’s advice and tie the toddler with a rope. If Dellinger went in the sea under those stormy waves yesterday, forget about pulling him out, they wouldn’t be able to find him.

For the past three years, they rarely went this far up north on their voyages, and although most of the adults of the crew were used to responding to and traveling through overbearing hail and rain, the kids were not. They were too prone to making mistakes in the novelty of navigating the waves bigger than Sea Kings despite knowing how to navigate.

The kids had been absolutely terrified.

The storm proved impossible to navigate. Doflamingo put his family and its safety above everything, he wasn’t going to risk them all because he wanted to get to the next island on time. He decided it was best to hunker down near a mountain pass to the closest island than continue to navigate through the storm.

After setting anchor on the nearby, snow-covered coast of the island, everyone had huddled down in the galley beside the largest fire stove to keep warm, bringing in sleeping bags.

Now, after putting on his black overcoat to deal with the cold outside, Doflamingo quickly opened the doors, left the cabin, and closed them just as quickly. He made his way up the stairs and to the cabin on the quarter deck, then exited out into the open winter air.

There was a person on the deck, pushing the snow down the deck and overboard into the sea.

Doflamingo nearly had a heart attack.

After a moment, he realized it wasn’t the ship’s spiritual manifestation.

It wasn’t a Klabautermann. It was you.

Doflamingo called your name. You leapt six feet high at the sound of his voice, which made him laugh. You deserved the fright; you gave him a fright first.

You turned your face up to him. Doflamingo smiled down at you.

“Hey,” you said shakily, like you weren’t out in the cold and shoveling snow from the deck. “Good morning.”

“What are you doing?” demanded Doflamingo.

You look at him like he’s asking a strange question. “I’m shoveling the deck.”

…

What?

“Why?” asked Doflamingo.

“Cause there’s snow on it.” you said.

For a moment, Doflamingo was so confused his brain stopped working.

Because there’s… snow?

Why on… why on earth would you be the one shoveling the snow?!

Doflamingo deployed his strings, leaving the wooden, ice-laden balcony of the quarter deck, reaching you with a single leap. He stood on his strings beside you, because he wasn’t going to walk on the solidified ice undoubtedly hiding under the layer of snow.

“You don’t do that.” said Doflamingo firmly, his thoughts racing thousand miles per hour, the cogs in his mind rushing with what could only be described as Celestial Dragon confusion. “I take care of you.”

“I’ve been doing this my whole life.” you say, shrugging.

Rosi, I’ll bring you back to life and put thirty bullets in you this time. thought Doflamingo, clenching his teeth, his jaw hurting from how hard he did it.

Doflamingo took the shovel from you easily.

“Hey!” you shouted. "I need that!"

“You don’t anymore.” said Doflamingo, crossing his arms over his chest, looking at you with the sternness of a captain. He stepped down from his string onto the deck to stand in front of you — as he suspected, there was ice under the snow. “I take care of you now.”

“Doffy -” you started, but he would have none of it.

“You’re not allowed.” said Doflamingo, because what else is he supposed to say, how else is he supposed to let you know you are too precious to do grunt work? You are not to do any grunt work, ever, for as long as Doflamingo lived and breathed. His parents would roll in their graves if they ever heard he let you do any labor, and Doflamingo experienced a full-body cringe at the mere idea of allowing you to exhaust yourself. Unforgivable. Impermissible. Therefore, not allowed.

By his words, clearly you thought he thought you incapable because you are a woman, completely misunderstanding him as you said indignantly, “I am allowed -”

“You’re too cute to be out here in the cold, querida.” said Doflamingo.

Those words momentarily rendered you mute, and you stared up at him in shock, which made you even more adorable.

“I’m doing whatever I wanna do!” you protest, and it reminds Doflamingo of a bunny stomping its little foot on the ground.

“You get inside,” says Doflamingo, ignoring your words. You could think whatever you wanted, Doflamingo would rather put a sea prism bullet in his own leg than let you freeze outside and let you shovel the deck; he had Buffalo, Machvise and the others for that. Doflamingo wasn’t raised to allow you to do such things; he was raised to coddle you, provide for you, protect you, spoil you, and by his title as saint, he will. “I’ll get you some hot chocolate.”

The ship swayed under a wave, giving a small lurch.

The two of you slid on the solidified ice the deck had become overnight. It was only Doflamingo’s instincts and long arm that helped him grab onto you and pull you to his legs, keeping you from falling. You were completely unaffected, most likely used to such fumbling with Corazón — you didn’t even squawk in alarm, just took it like it was a common thing, to slide on the ice and risk falling and hurting yourself.

That was it. You weren’t listening to him. You were going to get a cold, and with your average civilian balance, break your skull. Time to change tactics.

“You made me do this,” said Doflamingo, sneering down at you.

“Do wha — AAAAH!”

Doflamingo reached down, wrapped his arm around your body, and lifted you up. Once he lifts you above his waist, and continues lifting you higher, that’s when you give an almighty, terrified shriek which startles the seagulls above the crow’s nest.

Doflamingo laughed, and put you stomach flat over his right shoulder, like he would a bag of gold, but you are a much more precious treasure he has than any gold.

There. Much easier. He should’ve done this from the start. Maybe he should carry you like this all the time. He smiled at the idea. Yes. That’s what he’ll do. You wouldn’t try to wiggle out of his grasp if he carried you this high; you’re too scared of hurting yourself by the huge height drop between his shoulder and the ground.

He straightened up, deployed his strings, and stepped onto them, walking on them rather than risk it with the ice.

“Doffy.” Your voice was shaky, terrified and breathless. Doflamingo failed to stifle his laugh. How adorable. “Doffy, put me down.”

You clutched at his spiked up, thick fluffs of hair. He sighed contently at the feeling, his chuckle rumbling through his chest as he grinned.

“Doffy! Put me down!”

“You’re not allowed!” he said firmly, but calmly all the same. He wasn’t angry, just concerned.

“Because I’m a woman?” you asked.

“No,” said Doflamingo simply. “Because I take care of you now.”

“I take care of myself!” you say indignantly as you’re being carried away on Doflamingo’s shoulder and back toward the warmth of the ship’s below deck with warm heating, comforting sweat and frosted, fogged glass.

He really needs to make sure with Diamante and Machvise the Numancia didn’t take any damage.

Doflamingo hears a giggle in his ear. He recognizes the sound, from a far-away memory long gone. He whips his head over his shoulder, and freezes solid.

“Don’t worry, Doffy.” said the little boy with blond bangs covering his eyes. He was sitting atop one of the posts of the sail, his arms tucked into the sleeves of a little purple feather coat over his light blue raincoat. He’s swinging his little feet back and forth where they dangle in the air from the sail. Something strange wells in Doflamingo’s eyes. His throat clogs up; he can’t speak.

The little boy sent him a big smile resembling the sun. “I’m okay.”

Doflamingo was hallucinating. He was definitely hallucinating. He needed to catch up on his sleep if he was seeing his eight-year-old baby brother and hearing his voice in his ear.

He headed inside, ducking as he went.

Baby 5 was tucked in his pink sleeping bag, back to sleep. The duvet wasn’t pulled all the way over her, so Doflamingo used his free right arm and lifted his finger, sending out a string to the duvet, lifting it up to cover Baby 5’s shoulders. Doflamingo hoped she at least woke up the cooks and that they started on breakfast and hot chocolate for the family. Doflamingo manoeuvred around the sleeping bodies of his family, stepping over their sleeping bodies easily.

In the end, you settled down after he put you on the couch in the galley. He noticed your chattering teeth, trembling body and red nose. He clicked his tongue in disapproval, took off his feather coat and draped the massive weight of it over your shoulders. The pink feathers completely enveloped you, tickling your cheeks as you looked up at him in surprise, the warmth the feathers suffused you in chasing away your trembles.

Doflamingo didn’t linger on the way you looked up at him, bundled in his feather coat and drowning in his scent, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from leaning down and kissing your lips to chase away the cold frost from them, too.

Instead, he slipped your arms into the thick, warm fluff of pink feathered sleeves, pulling the lapels over each other to keep you warm.

The sleeves were too long for you, and the end of the coat touched the ground of the cabin.

He went to get you both some hot chocolate and brought it to you to sip on in warm cups. The blissed smile you smiled and the relaxed sigh you released after your first sip of the hot beverage put him in a better mood.

He settled himself beside you on the couch with his pink mug filled with his hot chocolate. His thigh touched yours. This time, you didn’t inch away from him as you usually did when he sat down beside you during meals or in inns.

Doflamingo would much rather have your lips to keep him warm, but he’d settle for hot chocolate. For now.

He took a careful sip, and his body relaxed. He closed his eyes, basking in the bliss, his forehead smooth, free of any stress.

Feathers settled around his left shoulder, and his left sleeve fell over his arm.

When he turned to look down on you, a teasing comment on his tongue and a grin on his lips, you were looking up at him, and your eyes rendered his thoughts into a disarray.

“So you aren’t cold,” you said, lifting your arm high and stretching it all the way to adjust the left side of his coat atop his shoulder, which consequently meant you got closer to him, until your left shoulder leaned against his chest; if you leaned a bit further, you’d be nestled under his right arm.

“How do you walk with this?” you ask him, fussing over the coat. “It’s heavy.”

“It’s only nine kilograms.” he said. It was a comforting weight on his back; he was used to having it draped over his shoulders.

You deadpan at him, then, after a moment, say, “No wonder your neck’s starting to crane.”

“Drink your hot chocolate,” he said.

You snickered. “Yes, captain.”

You hugged the right part of his feather coat to yourself, draping it over you, covering your legs and entire body in the pink feathers. Doflamingo wondered if you liked the lingering scent of his cologne on the coat.

“It’s warm,” you whispered, closing your eyes, peaceful.

Doflamingo slipped his left arm into the sleeve of his feather coat, draping the front of it the same way you did. The two of you were swathed together in his pink coat.

You were right. With you nestled against him and swathed in his coat, it was warm.

Doflamingo didn’t feel cold at all.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @queenmimi2817 @dummyduck44 @daydreamer-in-training

[chvoswxtch]

promotion

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you and frank have to deal with the aftermath of his decision.

warnings: swearing, lots of angst, a lil surprise at the end ;)

word count: 4.6k

a/n: I can't believe that this is the second to last chapter of this series. pls excuse me while I go cry. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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The last time you stepped foot in a hospital had been when your mom passed. When you walked that familiar path to her room that day, you hadn’t known then it would be the last time. You knew her fate was inevitable, and that it was coming, but you thought you had more time with her. You thought you would at least get a chance to say goodbye, but that final moment of closure had been stolen from you, just like the time you were supposed to have with her. 

That had been one of the worst days of your life, and now you were anxiously awaiting to find out if you were about to have your second, because Frank had been in a coma for the past forty eight hours and you had no idea if you were out of time with him too.

“You alright?”

In the midst of your brain cycling through the worst possible outcomes like some kind of fucked up lottery, you hadn’t heard the rhythmic tapping of a cane against the cold sterile floor. Lifting your head to the sound of the familiar voice, you just stared up at Matt for a moment. The red tinted sunglasses hid his sightless eyes, but there was a fresh bruise blooming on his left cheekbone. Knowing the shape Frank was in, you wondered how many of Matt’s injuries were hidden beneath his clothes.

“You want my honest answer, or you want me to lie to you?”

A wry smile tugged at the edge of his mouth.

“I’d know if you did.”

A faint furrow formed between your brows at that admission, and then a soft snort of disbelief left you as you shook your head and rubbed your hands tiredly down your face.

“Is that your secret to being a really good lawyer? Being a human lie detector?”

Matt shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, anxiously tightening his grip on his cane with both of his hands. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he cocked his head slightly to the side.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

After hesitating for a moment, Matt folded up his cane and took the empty seat next to you where you were waiting outside Frank’s hospital room. He leaned in a little closer, dropping the volume of his voice.

“How…how did you-”

“You have a very distinct voice, you know.”

Matt’s lips parted for a second as if to speak, and then he closed them a moment later. A dry chuckle suddenly sounded in his chest and his lips spread into an amused smile, causing faint dimples to appear within the dark grown out stubble covering his cheeks. 

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or concerned.”

“Why would you be concerned?”

“Because you know who I am now.”

Even though Matt wasn’t outright voicing his worry, you could hear it in the undertone of his voice. He must have been aware that you had written articles about the infamous Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and now you knew the name of the man behind the horns. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you reached over and placed your hand on top of his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, I do. You’re my lawyer. You helped put my ex in prison for life after he almost got me killed. And, you’re also my friend, who just happens to have a…interesting choice in night time hobbies.”

Matt arched one of his dark brows, a hint of humor in his smooth voice.

“I don’t know if I’d call it a hobby. Hobbies are usually fun.”

“Matt, you helped save my life, and his.”

Matt was quiet for a moment before he turned his hand beneath yours, palm side up, and curled his fingers around the back of your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze when he spoke.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

 A soft smirk gently graced the edge of lips as he nudged your shoulder with his own.

“You know, I’ve never had to work so hard to save two people in my life. Most people aren’t so stubborn and have at least some sense of self-preservation.”

“Okay, surely I wasn’t as bad as him-”

“Pretty close.”

Pressing your lips together, you rolled your eyes which earned a laugh from Matt, and he gave your hand another faint squeeze. After a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, he turned his head in your direction.

“You’re not gonna ask?”

“Ask what?”

Matt shifted in the chair and turned his body towards you, tilting his head to the side slightly when he heard the evident confusion in your voice.

“About me.”

Arching one of your brows in silent questioning, you looked at Matt curiously, and his own confusion was written clearly all over his face.

“I mean, everyone that’s found out has a lot of questions. You know, how does a blind man-”

“Matt, aliens came out of the sky and nearly destroyed New York. A giant purple asshole wiped out half the universe with a snap of his shiny rhinestoned glove, and then all those people magically came back five years later. Luke Cage has bulletproof skin. Jessica Jones is super strong. Thor is a literal norse god, Bruce Banner turns into a really big green guy, and according to Homeland Security, my boyfriend is a former homicidal maniac that is technically dead. No offense, but you being Daredevil is kind of low on my list of weird shit I have questions about.”

Matt was silent for a solid minute before a burst of laughter bubbled up and erupted from his chest. His lips spread into a wide tooth bearing grin, both of his dimples now deeply indented into his cheeks.

“Well, when you put it like that.”

Letting out a soft laugh of your own, you shook your head faintly. Matt opened his mouth to say something and then abruptly paused, turning his head towards the wall behind the both of you, his dark brows knit together. Your eyes flickered between the wall and the look of concentration on Matt’s face.

“What is it?”

“He’s awake.”

Matt barely finished his sentence before you let go of his hand and shot up out of your chair, rushing over to push open the door of Frank’s hospital room and step inside. Your heart was pounding in your ears and your hands were trembling watching Frank slowly regain consciousness, a soft pinch forming between his dark brows as he inhaled deeply through his large broken nose.

When his eyes finally fluttered open, you were already at his side. He blinked slowly a few times, faintly squinting as his eyes adjusted to the artificial light after being unconscious for two days. He glanced around the room in a state of hazy disorientation, but when his eyes eventually met yours, that blurry perplexity swiftly sharpened into clarity. For a minute, the two of you just silently stared at one another.

It was hard to see Frank like this, lying in a hospital bed, battered and broken. There were even more cuts and bruises he’d sustained after leaving you in that hallway. But even with the deep blooms of fresh bruises and the dark angry wounds that had begun to clot and heal on his face, he still looked every bit like the man you had fallen in love with.

Frank’s face was just as blank as it had been for the past two days while he was out. For a second you were worried that he had sustained some kind of head trauma the doctors had missed and that he was currently suffering from some form of amnesia, but you could see recognition in his eyes when he looked at you. He just wasn’t talking. You didn’t know if he was waiting for you to speak first or if he just didn’t know what to say after the way he’d left you, but you didn’t waste another second before firing off.

“Dinah told me about the deal you made with her. Were you ever gonna tell me?”

You didn’t bother trying to hide the anger on your face, or disguise it in your voice. For the past two days all you had been able to think about was the fact that Frank had told you he loved you and then left you behind, seemingly without intending to make it out of that situation with Billy alive. He had told you goodbye in that moment, and you had been too overwhelmed to realize it.

But when the shock faded, you were furious. 

The expression on Frank’s face was still unreadable, and the longer he went without speaking, the angrier you got. He stared at you for a moment before his gruff voice broke the tense silence.

“Yeah.”

“They found Schoonover and Rawlins both dead. Was that you?”

“Yeah.”

There wasn’t even a hint of remorse in his voice when he confirmed that he’d murdered two of his former superiors. It was firm and unwavering. Frank didn’t attempt to lie to you or defend his actions. He was completely unapologetic about it, just like he had been when he’d killed Cavella and Walker. Forty-eight hours ago, he’d wiped out Billy’s entire team like they were nothing, and there was no trace of guilt over it in his eyes.

You were still trying to reconcile the two versions of Frank in your head; the one you knew, and the one currently in front of you. The image of him in that bulletproof vest with the bloodied skull on his chest was seared into your memory.

“Why didn’t you kill Billy?”

Frank could hear the faintest of a waver in your voice, a break of raw emotion in your audible frustration and confusion. He turned his head to stare out the window on his left, though he didn’t appear to actually be looking at anything. There was a far away look in his eyes, but his face was as hard and cold as his rough voice.

“Dyin’s easy. He has to live with what he’s done.”

Letting out a dry scoff, you look a step closer towards Frank’s bed as your brows furrowed in disbelief.

“You think he’ll feel an ounce of remorse now?”

“I don't give a shit if he feels bad.”

Frank turned his head to look at you, displaying that familiar broody expression that you currently wanted to smack off of his face. He was looking at you like you’d just asked the most ridiculous question in the world.

“Every day he’s gonna look at that ugly, mangled face, and he’s gonna remember what he did. He’s gonna remember me. He's gonna spend the rest of his life rottin’ in a goddamn cell, knowin’ I put him there. Knowin’ that he had everything, and now he’s got nothin’-that he is nothin’. For him, that’s worse than dyin’.”

Revenge didn’t dull the sharp edge of Frank’s hatred for Billy, and it didn’t ease the grievance of his loss. If anything, it just seemed to rip open that wound even wider that had never really healed in the first place since that tragic day in Central Park. Getting vengeance on the three people who were the sole facilitators of his family’s murder didn’t bring Frank peace any more than wiping out all those men years ago did. Billy’s betrayal had twisted that knife further, cut Frank deeper, and you were afraid that it would never have a chance of healing now.

“Frank-”

“You uh…you should go.”

Those words were like a bucket of ice water being dumped onto your head, sobering your heartache and frustration. Frank wasn’t looking at you, and you couldn’t look at anything other than him. 

“What?”

The shock and disbelief rang clear in your breathless whisper, sounding as if the very wind had been knocked right out of your lungs, and it cut Frank to his core. He couldn’t look at you. He couldn’t see the hurt and perplexity on your face. He kept his gaze averted towards the window, a muscle feathering in his clenched bruised jaw.

“That deal I made with Madani, it’s over. She ain’t a miracle worker. She got me a second shot, she can’t get me a third one. And I don’t want it.”

“Frank-”

“You gotta walk away, Y/N. You gotta walk away, alright. You can’t…I’m not…you’re better off, alright. You’re just…you’re better off.”

“Don’t say that-”

“I am not the man you think I am, alright? I’m not. I…I’m just…”

Frank closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, and his large hands gripped the blanket so tightly that the bruises and cuts on his knuckles paled and went stark white. He muttered incoherently under his breath, letting out a shaky exhale, and when he opened his eyes they were blurry with loss and pain.

“I was done. I was…I was, I told Maria. I’d just gotten home the night before, and I woke up the next mornin’ and I was just…it hit me, ya’know? It was just time, ya’know? I wanted…I was done, I wanted to be with them. It’s where I shoulda been the whole time, ya’know? It just…I saw her face, and it hit me, and I just knew. I wasn’t goin’ back. And the kids, ya’know, I was…I was gonna tell ‘em that day. Tell ‘em that daddy wasn’t leavin’ anymore, that he was…he was stayin’.”

Frank’s tear filled eyes were darting back and forth as he stared off towards the window, his bruised and beaten face contorted in grief and guilt. The raw agony cracking in his quiet voice and the sound of him struggling to suck in a breath had you reaching out to grip onto his hand as heartbroken tears slipped down your own face. Seeing the tears slip down his face when Billy confessed to being involved in his family’s murder had gutted you, but seeing Frank cry like this…you could physically feel it breaking your heart.

“That day we went to the park, ya’know the kids, they were too old for that stupid carousel, but they just laughed and laughed and…ya’know they were smilin’ and so happy. And I was…I was too, ya’know. I was home, I was…I was with them, and I was stayin’, but I…I didn’t get to tell ‘em. And it’s my fault they’re gone. It was…it was my bullshit. I got them killed, and I nearly got you killed and I can’t…I can’t do that again, Y/N, I can’t.”

Out of all the things you were expecting Frank to say when he finally woke up, this wasn’t it. This was not how you’d imagined this conversation going. Your heart ached seeing Frank so distraught and hearing the pure anguish in his voice. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the weight of his trauma or the sting of that suffering, and you knew why he was afraid, but this couldn’t be it. It just couldn’t. Not after everything you had been through together.

When he started to push you away for a second time, something within you snapped, and it set your bloodstream ablaze.

“No.”

“Y/N-”

“No.”

Frank snapped his head up in your direction when you yelled at him. You’d lost your temper with him before, but not like this. The sheer force behind your voice and the fire burning in your eyes caught him off guard. 

“You don’t get to do that.”

Hearing the accusation in your tone, the melancholy lingering along his bottom lash line faded and his face shifted into an expression of crestfallen puzzlement. 

“You don’t get to tell me that you love me and then push me away.”

Frank’s dark brows knit together suddenly, frustration creasing along his forehead as he looked up at you and spoke in a defensive tone.

“Hey, I do love you. That’s why I’m pushin’ you away, don’t you get that? I’m not draggin’ you down with me-”

“Oh so I don't get a say in this anymore? That’s it? You’re just giving up?”

“I’m doin’ what’s best for you-”

“That’s bullshit!”

Frank watched as you let out a dry and incredulous short laugh void of any humor. His brown eyes tracked you as you walked towards the end of his hospital bed, furiously pacing and stressfully running your hands through your hair. He let out a deep exhale through his large broken nose and shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment as his face twisted up in anguish. 

“Oh c’mon Y/N. Look I know you, alright? I know that you’re brave and you’re smart and you’re strong, but you are so goddamn stubborn and I cannot let you throw everything away for me.”

“So it's okay for you to risk everything, but not me?”

Frank’s features were contorted in exasperation tinged with frustration when he finally looked at you, and your own features were a convoluted tangle of irritation, despair, and treachery.

“C’mon, don’t do that, alright? It is not the same thing-”

“You’re not even gonna try-”

“You know what I am now, alright? You know what I did.”

The hardened edge to Frank’s rough voice caused any rebuttal to lodge in your throat. He was making you face it. That complicated truth you’d been wrestling with and trying to hide from, he was shining a light right on it and shoving it right in your face without mercy.

“I did it. I murdered all those people. That’s my life, that’s my world, and that’s what I do. You really wanna be a part of that?”

The familiar sting of saltwater started to burn in your weary eyes. Frank’s aggressive demeanor visibly softened seeing the glossy evidence of how he’d upset you. He was being a relentless asshole, and he knew it, but he thought it was for the best. The further away you were from him, the safer you were. 

When you turned away from him, it tore through the remaining thin strings keeping Frank’s heart together. A faint sheen glimmered in his own eyes as he looked at the back of your head, and a devastating silence fell over the room. This time when he spoke, his voice came out quieter and much more gentle as he tried to reason with you.

“C’mon sweetheart, you…you know who I am-”

“I know you’re the man that’s saved my life more times than I can count.”

Turning back around, you looked at Frank with a heavy wave of tears threatening to spill over your lash line at any moment.

“And you’re the only person that I've ever been able to depend on, besides myself.”

There was a pleading look in Frank’s warm glossy brown eyes when he whispered your name, but you couldn’t stop.

“I know you’re the only person that’s ever taken the time to truly understand me. You listen to me. You support me and encourage me. You actually read my work. You put up with my shitty mood swings. You’re patient with me, even when I don’t deserve it. You remember things that I tell you. You make me laugh as much as you make me wanna rip my hair out. You frustrate me more than any person I have ever met in my entire life, and you push buttons that I didn't even know I had, but I have never felt happier than I do when I’m with you.”

Letting a few stray tears fall, you walked slowly around the edge of Frank’s bed, coming to stand by his side as you looked down into his warm brown eyes. 

“I told you months ago, I’m safer with you. I meant it then, and I still mean it now. Okay everything…everything that’s happened…who you were…it doesn’t matter, okay? It doesn’t change anything, not for me. It doesn’t change how I see you or how I feel about you. Okay, it doesn’t change the fact that I-”

Your breath caught in your throat as the words that had been buried in your chest clawed their way to the surface. You had known since that day at the cabin. Deep down, a part of you had always known. In the midst of waiting for the perfect moment to finally say those words, and hiding from them in fear of saying them out loud, you almost didn’t get the chance to. For the last forty-eight hours, you’d been haunted by your own mistake. 

You knew better. You knew time was too precious. You never got to tell your mom you loved her one last time, and you’d been so paralyzed by your own apprehension, you almost never got to tell Frank at all. You swore to yourself that if he woke up, if you got the chance, you weren’t going to waste it. 

“-that I love you.”

Sometimes when Frank looked at you, it felt like he could see right into your soul, and at this very moment you wanted that to be true, because you desperately wanted him to know that’s where these words were coming from. You wanted him to feel it. 

Frank swallowed thickly when he heard the crack in your voice, the irrevocable emotion in it,  saying those words he didn’t think he deserved to hear. For a moment he was speechless, and all he could do was stare into your teary gaze. 

Finally speaking the words that had been lingering in your heart for so long felt like a weight being lifted off your chest. You had been terrified that you would never get to say it back, that Frank would never know just how much you loved him. Now, you weren’t going to let him forget it. You weren’t going to let him push you away because of how he felt about himself. You weren’t going to let his past, or anything else, come between you. Not after all this time and everything the two of you had gone through just to get here.

When he opened his mouth to speak, you shook your head and cut him off.

“No. I don’t want to hear any more of this shit about walking away, because that’s not fucking happening. We’re gonna figure this out, and we’re gonna do it together. Do you understand me?”

Frank’s face fell slightly as he looked up at you, giving a subtle shake of his head with an apologetic look shining in his soft brown eyes.

“Sweetheart…there ain’t no warm, cozy ending. Not for me. Alright, when it gets out-”

“Do you really think Homeland Security is going to let it leak that they were involved in a cover up for the Punisher?”

Frank lightly clenched his jaw as he looked up at you, his eyes flickering over your face. That name had never bothered him when the media gave it to him, or when anyone else referred to him by it, but hearing it from you made his stomach twist with shame.

“Dinah doesn’t need to perform any miracles because not a single fucking person in that department is going to hang themselves out to dry like that. Homeland already has their story about what happened, and none of Billy's men are alive to contest it.”

“There’s Bill.”

“You cracked his head like a goddamn egg and his jaw is wired shut. Even when he heals, with they evidence they found on him, no one is going to listen to a fucking thing that comes out of his mouth. And Dinah is making it her personal mission from God to convict him with as many life sentences as New York will legally allow. So what’s your next excuse?”

Frank arched one of his dark brows at your snappy tone, noticing that the sadness that had previously been lingering on your face completely transitioned into a familiar expression of firm stubbornness he was used to seeing in you. His eyes dropped down to take in the way you’d placed your hands on your hips, a stance of yours he’d come to associate with defiance and rebellion. Flickering his gaze up to meet your challenging stare, amusement faintly crinkled around his eyes. 

“Guess you got it all figured out, huh?”

“You were unconscious for two days.”

Frank let out of a puff of air past his lips at your deadpan response. Glancing away for a moment, he slowly shook his head before looking back up at you, his warm brown eyes roving over your figure. Cocking his head to the side, his tongue darted out to wet his lips as the ghost of a smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth.

“Ya’know, you’re kinda scary when you’re all pissed off. Sexy, but scary as hell. Anybody ever tell ya that?”

“If you think I'm scary, you should see my boyfriend.”

Frank straightened up a little as he looked at you, his warm brown eyes searching your gaze deeply. After a moment, he dropped his head to look down at the gray thin blanket covering his lower half, brushing his thumb over the clear plastic tube connected to the I.V. in his arm.

“You’re still lettin’ me keep that title, huh?”

Frank’s voice was quiet when he spoke, almost hesitant. Crossing your arms over your chest, you turned your head for a moment as you looked around the hospital room, dragging your teeth along your bottom lip before looking back down at him with a faint shrug of your shoulders.

“I can always demote you back to bodyguard, but I'm not paying you.”

Frank let out a deep chuckle, faint crinkles appearing around his eyes as he gave a subtle shake of his head.

“Nah, I don't want that.”

Lifting his head to look up at you again, his warm brown eyes flickered over your face. He slowly reached out to grab your arm and gave it a gentle tug, prompting you to uncross your arms. His warm calloused hand gradually caressed your arm from your elbow down to your wrist, taking your hand to hold gently, but tightly, like he needed your touch to ground himself in this moment, and to anchor himself to the idea that you still wanted him.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it, and you could see a flicker of hesitation in his concentrated gaze as he stared down at your hand, brushing his thumb along the back of it. Letting out a soft exhale through your nose, you gave his hand a faint squeeze of reassurance, and you opened your mouth to speak, but abruptly paused when you saw Frank slip his free hand down beneath the collar of his hospital gown. His hand was in a loose fist when he pulled it back out, slipping the chain from around his neck and over his head. When he opened his palm, he stared down at the gold wedding band silently.

A soft crease of confusion nestled between your brows when he let go of your hand, but before you could say anything, he reached for your left hand and pulled it towards his chest. A sharp gasp caught in your throat when Frank slowly slipped the golden band onto your ring finger, brushing his thumb over it gently. It was entirely too large for your finger, but Frank grasped your hand in his gently so the ring wouldn’t slip off. 

Lifting his head to meet your stunned expression, there was a softness in his warm brown eyes and a nervous smile on his lips as he lightly squeezed your hand. He guided your palm to rest on his chest over his heart and covered it with his other hand.

“Think I’d like a promotion better.”

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 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[ichigo-dream]

Leon - Squish - (SFW & NSFW)

Hi everyone!

We still can't get over the fact that this man is built like that and that he put on 40 lbs of pure muscle between RE 2 and RE 4. Honestly we've spent many hours discussing his squish so have some of our fav headcanons:

Every part of this man is rideable - thighs, biceps, throat, ab, face, doesn’t matter, any port in a storm and what a pretty, squishy port he is. 

u love gently pinching and biting his cheeks bc he still has some of his lil baby face from his rookie days 

his lap is the comfiest place to sit 

your throne 

Leon will grab you by the hips and pull you onto his plush thighs at any point 

soft and pillowy but you can feel the muscle when he flexes 

You love his little freckles that come out in the sunshine and the summertime - there’s one on the inside of his beautiful thigh scarily close to his dick and it makes him feral when you kiss or bite at it. 

To Leon, the only benefit of working for the US Government is travel perks - when flying he always flies first class, and it's the only time he can be comfortable on public transport bc he’s a unit of a man 

Any other time, he has to curl in on himself and crush his legs together to not take up more than his designated space. 

can spread his thick delicious thighs as much as he wants 

in the summertime he likes to workout outside

will do push-ups whilst shirtless 

you try not to pass out at the sight of his muscles flexing + slick with sweat 

sometimes you’ll sit on his back as he does this when he wants some extra weight 

baby boy is so strong it makes u drool 

Loves wearing shorts but gets self-conscious if he wears them in public.

Absolutely will steal your sunglasses to wear whilst he’s outside - (we couldn’t get the image of Leon shirtless in little shorts wearing heart shaped sunglasses out of our heads)

one day he wants to surprise you by wearing his old rpd uniform (cute play on all the times you would playfully call him “officer Kennedy”) but you hear him grunting in frustration from the bedroom so u go to check it out 

shit does not fit this man

not even a little 

trousers caught around his legs bc the material won’t fit over his juicy thighs + ass. You’re trying not to drool at the sight. waistband is fr about to snap 

dick bulge bc the trousers don’t fit over that either 

shirt also  doesn’t fit  - buttons are straining within an inch of their life against his broad chest, waiting to pop  

only thing that does fit is the old bulletproof vest - barely. 

“Never got to wear my summer uniform, and I didn’t want to buy a new one so… I tried to make my own but…”

baby boy is blushing in embarrassment at his failed attempt to be sexy 

but oh he has no idea 

what he’s doing to you rn 

have to pick your jaw off the floor at the sight of him 

he’s sweating a little too from the effort 

you want him to choke you out with his thighs or biceps, you’re not picky 

You tell him to turn around and you’ll try to help him pull them up at the back but this is a ruse -  you just want to see his ass jiggle as he tries to force the trousers up. 

“I’m sorry, I can't get them on..” he whines, annoyed that he can’t surprise you anymore. 

“It’s okay, pretty boy, I need you to take them off anyway”  

devouring this man like he’s a piece of cake on god 

strawberry to be precise 

When you’re fucking him, if you grab at his ass it’ll drive him crazy

You have to resist the urge to motorboat him when his bare chest is freely offered to your greedy eyes.

the juiciest tits u ever seen 

Don’t be fooled tho - tho this man is a beast, he ‘s actually a puppy on the inside. 

He absolutely adores getting to cuddle with you and lie on your chest and snooze - because he’s bigger than you he tends to worry about crushing you but you reassure him that it's okay (glory glory what a hell of a way to die). 

We could go all day (much like Leon) but we’ll stop there for now!

Comment “Bingo!” if you made it to the end, and let us know if you’d like more!

Love, 

Ichigo and Dream xoxo

[feinzleclerc]

Senna's Legacy | Charles Leclerc

summary :: where you're Senna's daughter and carry on your father's legacy through your institute

word count :: 2.320 words.

The atmosphere in the paddock during the Brazilian GP was unmistakable. Maybe it was the tropical breeze, the green and yellow flags swaying in the wind, or the unmatched passion of Brazilian fans that always made history. For you, though, this weekend had an even deeper meaning.

As Ayrton Senna’s daughter, your name carried a weight you bore with both pride and responsibility. For years, you had been at the helm of the Ayrton Senna Racing Dreams Institute, a project dedicated to supporting children with dreams of becoming Formula 1 drivers by providing education, infrastructure, and opportunities in such a selective sport.

The Brazilian GP was always a golden opportunity to promote the institute’s work. This time, however, Formula 1 had organized a special visit to the project for some of the drivers. They would pay tribute to your father and see firsthand the impact the institute had on these kids’ lives.

It was Thursday morning, the perfect day for the visit since it aligned with the institute’s busy class schedule and fit the drivers’ agendas before the race weekend. You stood in front of the building, waiting anxiously for your guests. A large panel featuring Ayrton’s face and the phrase Dreams Start Here welcomed visitors. As the black cars began to arrive, you adjusted your blazer and took a deep breath.

The first to step out were Verstappen, Norris, and Hamilton, all enthusiastic and friendly. Leclerc followed shortly after. Dressed in his Ferrari gear and wearing sunglasses that accentuated his sharp features, he smiled as he saw you.

─ You must be the mastermind behind all of this ─ said Lewis, shaking your hand firmly but kindly. ─ It’s an honor to be here.

─ Thank you all for coming ─ you replied with a warm smile. ─ I’m sure the kids are even more excited than I am to meet you.

Charles chuckled, removing his sunglasses and hooking them onto his shirt.

─ Well, I hope I don’t disappoint.

As you guided them through the institute, you explained every detail, from the racing simulators to the classrooms where kids learned English, math, and engineering concepts. The drivers listened attentively, but Charles seemed particularly interested.

─ How many kids does the program support each year? ─ he asked, watching a group using the simulators.

─ Around 200 directly ─ you answered. ─ But with our partnerships, we reach thousands in underserved communities.

Charles nodded, clearly impressed.

─ That’s incredible. Your father would be so proud.

A lump formed in your throat. Hearing such words from someone who genuinely admired Ayrton always stirred deep emotions.

After the tour, the children had their moment with the drivers. Photos, autographs, and simulator challenges turned the day into pure joy, as if everyone had reverted to childhood. Yet, Charles seemed to stick close to you the entire time.

─ Can I ask you something personal? ─ he began as you both watched the kids play.

─ Of course ─ you said, curious.

─ What’s it like carrying Ayrton’s name? It must be amazing, but also overwhelming.

You smiled softly, taking a moment to gather your thoughts.

─ It’s a mix of both. The pride is immense, but so is the constant expectation. It feels like I always have to live up to his legacy. That’s why I pour so much of myself into this institute.

Charles nodded, his gaze locked onto yours.

─ Well, from what I’ve seen today, you’re doing just that. He would be immensely proud.

The sincerity in his eyes made you look away briefly, your cheeks flushing as a smile crept across your lips.

That afternoon, Formula 1 held a tribute to your father. A float shaped like Ayrton’s iconic helmet made its way around, and Vettel led a walk with the drivers along the circuit. Watching these heartfelt gestures left you in awe, proud of everything being done to honor him.

Later, a professional filming team arrived to record a special segment where each driver would give a speech about Ayrton. Since you had been invited to observe, you stayed close enough to hear every word.

Max Verstappen spoke of how Ayrton had inspired his generation. Lewis Hamilton, visibly moved, shared how watching Senna race had ignited his passion for the sport.

When it was Charles’s turn, your heartbeat quickened.

─ I grew up hearing stories about Ayrton Senna ─ he began, holding the microphone with confidence. ─ To me, he was more than just a driver. He was the embodiment of determination, courage, and passion. Today, I had the privilege of visiting the institute led by his daughter. What she’s doing is nothing short of continuing his legacy, but in a way that touches lives on an even greater scale.

He paused, his eyes scanning the crowd until they found yours.

─ Ayrton inspired generations to dream, and his daughter is ensuring those dreams have a chance to become reality. It’s an honor to be here and witness this.

The cameraman lowered his equipment as murmurs of praise for Charles’s speech filled the room. Your heart raced, overwhelmed by the mix of emotions his words evoked—not only for being a Senna but for the way Charles had mentioned you so personally.

On Sunday, the stands at Interlagos were packed. The Brazilian fans were electric, and the energy was contagious. Before the race, Charles found you in the paddock, where you stood with some of the institute’s kids.

─ Ready to cheer me on? ─ he asked the kids in broken Portuguese he had hastily learned from a translator.

─ Yes! ─ they shouted in unison, laughing as they hugged the driver.

He straightened and turned to you.

─ I hope I can live up to the hype today.

─ Good luck, Charles. We’ll be rooting for you.

Later, at the post-race celebration, you were chatting with other guests when you felt a light touch on your arm. You didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was—the familiar scent of Charles’s cologne gave him away.

─ Can we talk? ─ he asked, his smile slightly shy.

─ Of course! ─ you replied, following him to a quieter corner.

─ I just wanted to thank you for this weekend ─ he began. ─ Visiting the institute and meeting the kids gave me a new perspective on racing.

─ I’m glad you enjoyed it ─ you said sincerely.

Charles hesitated, running a hand through his hair, clearly nervous.

─ Actually, there’s something else I wanted to say. Or, rather, ask.

─ Go ahead ─ you encouraged him.

─ Would you let me take you out to dinner? Not now, of course. But after the season ends.

His question caught you off guard, but the smile that spread across your face was answer enough.

─ I’d love that ─ you replied.

Charles’s grin widened.

─ Great. I promise it’ll be special—you won’t regret it.

─ I’ll be looking forward to it, Charles ─ you said, meeting his eyes as your heart raced.