#ya know when their eyes would change color

[fagbearentertainment]

Getting fucked up over the animatronics at 3am

Like in the movie they wanna play and make forts dude

That’s what really gets me, the movie humanizing them with that scene, it fucks me up so bad. Like I wanna cry bc they really are just scared angry kids :(

[windydrawallday]

Found some character notes about [Marauder Lockdown] 's optic colors I did just for myself but tweaked it a bit to post for the ones curious! (Sorry if something reads funny, didn't check my English).

I like to HC that these bots' optics fluctuate naturally through analogous colors, two that can switch voluntarily most of the time and one as a visual alert when in lack of maintenance.

Because I barely render and doodle him a lot, these notes are rarely followed up by me except when writing him pfff

[slushycoookie]

I Like Your Dress ~ Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 2.7k

✩ Content: Logan goes crazy over your dress, Domino shows up (I miss her so bad), cream pie is mentioned A LOT, Wade breaks the 4th wall, P in V, Logan does NOT wrap it up this time, MINORS DNI!!

✩ A/N: Reader is the same reader as the one shot I wrote. You don't have to read that one, I don't go into much detail but if you guys want to read that one, read it here

Masterlist | Commissions

The fresh smell of food made Logan awake from his slumber.

Sleepily searching for you on your side of the bed, only to discover that you weren't there. Having a sudden burst of energy, Logan got out of bed to find you. He didn’t need to go far when sees you wiggling your hips at the stove, stirring a pot.

“Hey.”

You look behind you when hearing his voice, “Hi!”

Logan pulls you close as you greet him with good morning kisses. Well, afternoon after checking the time.

“How did you sleep? I let you sleep in a little bit, you were so tired from that mission last night.”

Logan smiles, “I slept alright.”

He sees the multitude of ingredients on the counter and remembers what they're were for. Wade was throwing a potluck since Domino was coming back from a month long mission. Of course, he invited you two and you were so excited. Logan was neutral. He would've preferred to stay in bed with you all day.

You said you were making a few things, but the amount of ingredients you had made him wonder. “How many people are you planning to feed?”

“Enough.” You said, going back to your pot, which he found out was pasta. “Colossus and Peter will be there. We both know how much they like to eat.”

“Don’t push yourself.” His tone was rough but you knew it was his way of caring.

“I won't.”

Logan grabbed himself an afternoon shot of bourbon before excusing himself to get ready. Trying to prepare himself for socializing and dealing with Wade.

When he came back clean and not as rugged, you were finishing up, putting white icing on the strawberry cake. Logan swiped his finger on the cake and licked it, cream cheese on his tongue.

“That’s good.”

“Don’t lick it anymore.” You lightly threaten, smacking his hand away. “Save it for the party.”

“Fine.” Logan kisses your cheek and stands behind you to watch you finish icing the cake. In your beautiful handwriting ‘Welcome back, Domino’ in pink icing. “Would ya look at that? You should be on those baking shows.”

“Nuh uh, I'm okay with just watching videos.”

Once you were finished, he helped you place the cake in the dome, ready to go with the rest of the food. You gave him an order to not eat any of it before you ran into the bathroom to get ready. Logan gave you about five minutes before inspecting the tins. He smiled when he saw you only made a few items, a large tray of pasta salad and spinach dip. Just to make sure it wasn't poisoned, he took a swipe of each, humming at how good it tasted.

He knew you were going to be a while so he opened a window, grabbed a cigar and lounged to smoke. Logan knew you didn't like it when he smoked in the apartment, but said it was okay as long as he let in some fresh air after.

As usual, you took almost a hour getting ready, but it was well worth the wait.

When you stepped out of the room, Logan started coughing, blowing smoke out the window to make sure a lot didn't linger. His eyes trailed your outfit, a tie dye colored maxi dress with thin straps, and cute, brown sandals to match. Logan didn't care when you scolded him for obviously taking a bite of your pasta salad. His breath was stolen away.

“I like your dress.”

“You're changing the subject, but thanks.”

He steps in front of you, eyes lowered as he kept gazing at your form. The dress hugging your body while still being appropriate. Logan's hand rests on your ass cheek, giving it a firm squeeze.

“I really like your dress.”

You avoid his lustful gaze, “Don’t you start.”

“Start what?” He steals a kiss from you, careful not to mess up your lipstick. “I can't compliment my lady?”

“You can compliment me by using your words.”

“It's not as fun that way.” He dips his head between your neck to smell you. You weren't wearing any perfume this time, but the honey scent from your lotion was enough to complete the entire package. Logan growls, squeezing your ass some more and making you giggle.

“We should go, I don't wanna be late.”

“We won't. I swear.” His hand cups the nape of your neck, putting it back so he could kiss you some more. Parting your lips to dive his tongue right in. Your moans spurring him on.

It didn't last long though.

“Logan.” You gently push him away, “We will have some time later.”

He sucked his teeth before grabbing all of the food you made.

Logan remained a scowling mess when you two arrived for the potluck.

You were the more social one out of the relationship, so you immediately flocked to the crowd who welcomed you with open arms. Even Domino, despite that this was the first time you two saw each other. Logan makes his usual rounds of saying hi before picking a corner with a drink in his hand and observing.

It was his way of enjoying himself without being easily annoyed and overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in the apartment. Best of all, he could watch you socialize. Your face lighting up at the conversations while that gorgeous dress clung to your body. Logan always likes to admire you in your element, but you wearing that dress was more than enough to make him want to do things to you. His hands involuntary flexed at the idea of feeling your body through the dress.

“There’s my grumpy kitty!” Domino says to Logan, who scowled at her, but there was no malice behind it.

“Hey, Dom.”

“Wade told me that your hair was getting better and now I see why.” She motions to you talking to Peter about him getting highlights. Logan's lips curl upwards again at the sight of you. “She's cute.”

“Thanks. I heard she scheduled you an appointment?”

Domino nods, “Gonna try something new. This is getting stale.” She motions to her afro.

“Don’t you dare change it.” Wade joins in, pointing at her. “You know how I feel about change.”

“Aww.” Domino pinches his cheek, “We all gotta grow up sometime.”

“You know who you're talking to right?” Logan comments under his drink.

“Your afro was one of the reasons you were so likeable in the second movie. Now what do we have, a woman with luck powers? I still don't believe that's a thing, by the way.”

Domino shakes her head at the audacity of it all, “I missed you too.”

She excuses herself, leaving Logan and Wade together. The latter started getting a little giddy, cradling his cup, while shooting multiple glances. Logan promised you that he was going to play nice during the party and not get easily annoyed at Wade.

“What?”

“We’re having cream pie.” Wade mentions, “Do you wanna know what flavor it is?”

Logan holds back an eyeroll, “Sure.”

“It's boston cream pie. I know we have a lot of sweet things considering we also have the cake your lady made, but I really wanted some. Actually, it's been a while since you've had cream pie, right?”

“I guess.”

“Oh you'll enjoy this one. You have a bit of a sweet tooth.” There was a moment of silence between them as they watched everyone enjoy themselves. You were getting many compliments on your food, asking for the recipes to make at home. “ Vanessa and I are huge fans of cream pie. Does your lovely lady like it too?”

Logan glared at him for a second before thinking about the question, “I think so.”

“Has she had it in a while?”

“No.”

“I think she'll be very happy when she gets some-”

“Why…in the fuck do you keep talking about the damn cream pie?” He feels a slight headache coming on.

Wade shrugs before taking a sip of his drink. “I can't like pie?”

Logan growls, ready to toss him out the apartment when you inadvertently save Wade, walking over with a huge smile on your face.

“Hi.”

“Hey, sugar.”

You embrace him with arms around his neck. Your lips kissing his cheek, taking in the aftershave.

“Hi Wade.”

“Hi. Your grumpy boyfriend and I were just talking about cream pie. Do you know we're having pie later?”

Logan felt his eye twitch at the question, his hand on your hip to keep himself from punching Wade.

“No, I didn’t!” Your eyes light up, “What kind of pie?”

“Boston cream. One of the best pies in the world, I should say.”

“Ooh, you know what, I haven’t had cream pie in a long time.”

“Oh really?” Wade tilts his head a little, while you nod. “Well, obviously you gotta have some. I think you'll enjoy it. The author knows what I'm talking about.”

And just like that, he's gone.

Logan didn't want to acknowledge whatever that was so he pulls you amongst his body. The most handy you'll ever allow him to be in public.

“We should go.” He whispers in your ear.

“Hm? We've only been here for two hours.”

That was enough, he wanted to say. Everytime he focuses on you and that dress, he wants to forget behaving and take you back home to lavish on you all night. For those two hours, Logan was trying to keep his thoughts pure enough to get a raging hard on. He didn't know how long he could last.

“Just hang in there a bit longer, okay?” You give him a kiss for encouragement. Logan takes in the imprint of your lips as you go back to socialize. No, he wasn't going to make it.

He hangs on when everyone sits around the table, laughing and talking. You're beside him, hand on his thigh to stabilize him and keep him in the conversation. Logan wants you to go higher, feel the impending hard on.

He needs to get you alone, show you that he was failing at behaving. There weren't a lot of places where you two wouldn't be disturbed. And he didn't want to take you outside and fuck you in an alleyway.

But God answered him.

You excused yourself, making your way to the bathroom. Logan watches you go as everyone continues talking. He gives it a minute before getting up and pretending to grab another drink. Instead, he beelines to the bathroom, standing beside the door and waits. His heartbeat in his chest.

“Who wants some cream pie?” Wade asks, everyone roaring with excitement once you finally open the door.

Logan pushes you back into the bathroom, lips immediately on yours. Your surprised gasp eggs him on while he traps your body against the wall.

“This is all your fault.” He mutters, constantly stealing kisses.

“Huh? What?” You try to keep up with him as his hands are all over your body, feeling your soft curves through the dress.

“You know what. Wearing this dress, not letting me do something to you before we came here. Torturing me.”

As he spoke, his lips were everywhere. Your face and neck. Trying to wear you down and submit.

“Torturing you? That, that wasn't my intention-oh.” His teeth latched on to your shoulder, having some self control to mark you in a place no one could see.

“I need you.” Logan starts bunching up your dress.

You try to stop him by pushing his hands down, “L-Logan? Logan, baby you didn't lock the door.”

“It's gonna be quick.” You let him bunch up your dress, seeing a glimpse of your panties, which he now sees that it's the lacey blue ones he liked. The ones you mentioned reminded you of the accent colors of his suit.

Logan's jeans were getting tight when he removed them, stuffing them in his pocket. Without saying a word, you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist. You whimpered under his lips as he was finally able to touch you while wearing the dress. Large hands molding your breasts through the fabric, still managing to locate the nipple and pinching it. His hips rolling against you, creating a nice friction against your cunt.

You were doing so good at keeping quiet for him, only managing the occasional whimper when he hit a perfect spot. Making sure you were stable on his arm, Logan reaches down to your core. His chest rumbles when he feels how wet you're getting. Sinking one digit inside while his thumb presses on your clit. Making circular motions while he was getting you ready.

“Didn’t need to do much, huh?” He said, watching you twist and turn. “You wanted this as much as I did.”

You didn't say anything but he smelled you. His finger coated in your delectable arousal. If you two weren't on a time limit, he'd reach down to get a taste.

Once you were ready, Logan maneuvers to unzip his pants. Even though you were dazed out of your mind, you remember something.

“I left my purse out there.” Your purse had condoms and knowing Logan, he didn't bring them as you insisted on being prepared in case something like this happens. But now both of you were unprepared.

“I'll get ya plan b at the store.” He continues to unzip his jeans.

“Don’t forget…”

Logan pulls his cock out with one motion, using some of your wetness for lubrication. “I won't.”

He then slips into you. You clutch on to him for dear life, your nails digging into his shirt. Curse his healing factor. He wanted to see the marks you'd leave on him.

He keeps you stable against the wall, sinking into you completely before starting to move. Quick and sharp thrusts in and out of you. Low, wet sounds filling his ears besides your shaky sobs.

“O-Oh god…”

Logan rolls his eyes back at your desperate tone, “God's not here, honey.”

His own voice comes out strained as he's fucking you. How he wants to pull your dress up further to see your breasts move. But having you like this was much hotter. Wanting you to remember that this was the dress that made him go crazy.

“Mmh Lo’…” He almost comes right there when your hand grips the nape of his neck, pulling the hairs.

Logan grunts, picking up speed, feeling some of his cum leaking out into you. His tip pressing against your cervix that was making you croon. Goosebumps forming on your skin as he hit that spot repeatedly. Making you whine and wince under him.

“Squeeze around me, sweetheart.” He commands and you do so. Your walls molding around his cock as you silently cried out. Even at the height of your pleasure, you still managed to be quiet, mouth agape and he wanted to shut those lips with his own. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Logan wasn't far behind, pounding into you mercilessly before shooting his cum inside you. He stilled for a moment then pumped into you a few times to make sure all of his load made it inside. You capture him in another kiss, both of you sighing against each other.

Laughter nearby caused you two to come down from the high. Logan put you down, handing you your panties. He grabbed a few paper towels to make sure no cum stained his jeans. You were checking yourself out in the mirror, making sure Logan didn't mess up your makeup. He did ended up getting some on his face, which had you quickly trying to wipe it away with your thumb.

“I'm good, I'm good.” Logan reassures you before fixing his shirt. “I'll go out first.”

“Okay.” Before parting, he gave you another kiss, completely not caring if lipstick stained his lips.

The party continued as if the two of you weren't missing for the last fifteen minutes. Logan played it cool by grabbing another drink. When you came out the bathroom, you two momentarily locked eyes, before acting like nothing happened.

“Did you enjoy the cream pie?”

Logan jumps at Wade's sudden appearance, “What the fuck? How did you know that I-?”

“The pie's right there.” Wade points to the cut up pie on the kitchen counter. Logan stares at it, a bit dumbfounded. “It's good right?”

Logan's eyes land on you as you're speaking to Domino once more, “Yeah. It was good.”

Tags: @allmyn1ghts

[gurugirl]

Next Door Neighbors | Part 2

neighbor!harry x reader

Summary: Your neighbor, Harry, goes feral after seeing you sweating in your garden.

A/N: Read Part 1 HERE!

Word Count: 5k+

Warning: 18+ only, smut, slight breeding kink, descriptions of bodily scents and tastes (sweat and the like), fluff

. . .

Harry couldn’t help but peek over the fence to watch you when he noticed you were in your backyard gardening. Wearing shorts so short he could almost see your cute ass. And he knew you had a cute ass. Cute everything really.

Though, the longer he watched the more like a creeper he felt. Like an actual creep watching you bent over with your knees and hands in the dirt and sweat soaking through the back of your tank top while you were totally oblivious. But you sure were a sight to behold. He imagined how your sweat must taste and smell. There was something going off in his brain as he watched you that was nonrational, quite carnal when he got right down to it.

He hadn’t seen you in a couple of weeks. You’d both been busy with your separate lives and jobs. And it was always awkward for anyone to try and initiate another “get-together” when who knows what the other person is thinking? Maybe to you, it was just a fun one-night thing. Because in a way that’s all it was to him. Not that he wouldn’t have been interested in doing it again, he just didn’t know how you felt about some kind of ongoing, no-strings-attached thing. Or if you even wanted ongoing. Or no-strings. There were too many ifs in the equation.

But he knew one thing. He couldn’t just stand there like a weirdo and stare at your backside for too much longer. So he had an idea, returning to his kitchen he poured two glasses of iced tea then walked back toward the fence and cleared his throat putting a grin on his face, “Looks nice,” he called out to you.

You dropped your trowel and turned around to see your neighbor looking over the fence at you holding up two glasses of something amber-colored. You smiled, standing up, wiping the dirt from your knees and palms, “Hi, Harry. What looks nice? Not much to see yet,” you began to walk toward the fence to get a better look at him.

“Well I can see you put in brick around the beds and ya know… just looks nice.” He shrugged.

“It’s just gonna be easy to care for flowers and shrubs. Some lavender too, for the mosquitos. I’ve been out here for almost two hours. It’s so much more work than I thought it would be. Never had the chance to have a garden before so I’m going to take advantage of this,” you smiled and watched Harry’s pink lips curve upward as his eyes ran down your frame.

“I guess it is a lot of work. Two hours is a lot of time to be out in the sun. I got you a glass of iced tea if you’re interested,” he held it out toward you over the fence and you took it, the icy glass immediately cooling to your palm.

“Thank you, Harry. This is nice of you,” you took a drink because you were thirsty. Parched actually. “Come over if you want to sit with me out here,” you gestured toward the table and chairs that were set up on your back patio. And maybe you were more than just thirsty. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with your hot neighbor.

Harry grinned and nodded, “Think I will if it’s okay.”

You watched Harry round the fence and then open the gate to yours to let himself into your backyard and you saw the way he looked down over your skimpy attire not meant for public eyes.

“Oh…” you looked down at your soiled white tank top and sweaty chest, “Mmm… maybe I should change first? I’m a gross mess.”

“You look great. Don’t worry. Come on let’s sit.”

And he meant it. You did look great. You looked quite like a treat if he were honest. A little sweaty treat but that wouldn’t deter him one bit.

Now you were feeling that bit of tangly excitement strum through your veins at just the sight of him. He was so good looking and it’d been, what? Two weeks since you’d heard from him? It was a little disappointing to you that he never called or texted or dropped in to say hi. Especially after that night you spent with him on his birthday. He had your number because you both swapped them before he walked you back to your house after you had sex.

Of course, you knew what you were doing when it was happening. It was unlikely that you two were going to suddenly fall in love and get into some kind of relationship. You were an adult and it was a fun night. Nothing more. And that was fine. Really, it was. A touch discouraging but nothing to be upset over.

You and Harry sat at your table with your glasses of tea in hand and you took another big gulp to cool yourself down.

“So what’ve you been up to?” He asked as he watched you wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand.

“Just normal stuff… work and I go to a book club once a week. Went out and bought all the stuff I’d need for the garden yesterday. Things like that. Nothing exciting. What about you?”

“Same mostly. Been working late this week, just got off actually. Today was an early day. Uhh… I mean that’s it really. Owning a small business means anytime anyone can’t work I’m doing their job for them. One of my guys is sick. He’s been out all week. Kind of sucks but I don’t want him going to a job and getting everyone else sick.”

You nodded, “Wow. That does sound like a lot. Does it happen often that you have to fill in for your employees?”

Harry shrugged as he took a sip from his glass, “Sometimes. It’s part of the gig. I knew that going into it. I really don’t mind it much. Does put a hamper on my social life, though.”

You weren’t sure why that somehow pleased you. Perhaps that meant he had little time to date around. Lack of social life but with a nice little neighbor next door who was always there when he got home… You swallowed a gulp of tea and grinned, “Makes sense.”

Harry tried to keep his eyes on your face but it was hard with the way your white tank top was nearly see-through where you’d sweated. Just under your breasts was wet and along the collar portion and down through the middle of your bra. He could tell you were wearing some kind of sports bra.

“So, uh…” Harry took in your face and realized that when you wiped the sweat from your forehead, you’d smeared dirt under your hairline. He placed his glass of tea down and scooted his chair toward you, cupping his hand at the back of your neck, “Here… you’ve got something…” he wiped his thumb over your forehead and your pulse immediately began to race.

Having his hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place as he used his other one to wipe your brow felt far more intimate than maybe was intended. You watched his face as he cleaned you up and then he lowered his gaze to yours, “You are a bit of a mess aren’t you?”

He grinned and licked his lips as he moved his hands away and you felt stunned as he lowered his sight to your tits. Maybe he did intend for it to be as intimate as it felt. Maybe he’d done it on purpose.

Looking down at yourself you saw how dirty your tank top was and how clearly sweaty you were. You hadn’t imagined anyone would see you like this but now here you were with your gorgeous neighbor’s green eyes on you.

There was definitely something in the way he was looking at you that made you feel extra hot. Even the sun wasn’t as searing hot as his eyes were on you, “Thanks. Sorry I know I’m so gross.”

Harry shook his head, “Not at all. Quite pretty actually.”

You laughed and looked out into your garden, “Not true. I smell like an unwashed trucker right now.”

Harry laughed with you and he took the arm of your chair and pulled you closer to him, your knees bumping into his as he did so, “Let’s see,” he looked down over the skin on your neck and to your clavicle, leaning in toward your throat you could hear him softly inhale, “Smells more like a sweaty girl who was working in her garden for two hours.”

His nose brushed against your jawline, “A little sweet-smelling, maybe a touch acrid,” he sat back to look at you, “But I’m not picking up any unwashed trucker notes on you.”

His smile was excruciating. You shook your head and balked with a laugh, “You’re crazy.”

He tilted his head and you watched as his seafoam green eyes landed on your lips, “Maybe a little.” He looked back up into your eyes and licked his lips with a soft grin spreading over his lips, “I happen to think you smell really delicious right now.”

Your eyes widened as you scoffed, “You really are crazy in that case. Delicious?” And even though you tried to sound like you weren’t aware of his sudden advances you could tell he wasn’t deterred one bit as he softly placed his middle finger over your knee and pushed up to your midthigh before bringing it back down toward your knee again.

“That’s what I said. Wouldn’t mind getting a better whiff, in fact,” his pink tongue pressed between his lips and you could see the tip of it slowly push outward as his mouth parted slightly, “A taste even.”

You gulped thickly and looked from his finger that was still working a path up and down the top of your thigh and up to his mouth and then his eyes. You could think of nothing you wanted more than to tear his clothes off and have another go with him. Except that you were stinky and even though he was hinting that he liked it you weren’t sure how that was possible.

Harry could smell you with the closer proximity. And he didn’t know what it was about your natural smell that was making his mouth water. He’d heard of pheromones and how sometimes body odor could be a turn-on for some people. He hadn’t ever experienced it until then. But you did smell incredibly sexy. Something primal in him was working its way to the surface and even making his cock twitch in his shorts.

“Do you want me to stop? Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked.

You shook your head, “No. I’m just… a little surprised is all.”

Maybe Harry had a thing for sweat or something. You weren’t sure. But he was definitely coming on to you.

“So if I got onto my knees right now, pulled your shorts down, and then stuffed my nose right between your legs you wouldn’t be uncomfortable with that?” The grin on his face was facetious but somehow you believed him when he said it.

And what would your answer be? Would that make you uncomfortable? Or would that make you feel good? Would you enjoy Harry smelling your crotch?

“I don’t…” you laughed and looked down at his finger on your thigh, “Maybe it would be a little strange. I’ve just never… Like it smells bad,” you looked back up into his eyes as he scooted toward the edge of his chair closer to you.

“It doesn’t smell bad. I promise you. But would it make you uncomfortable?” The facetious grin disappeared suddenly and you were aware that he wasn’t playing around.

You laughed out a breath and blinked, “I don’t know.” You turned your head to look at the fence, “Oh my god this is so embarrassing.”

Harry took both of your hands in his and that drew your attention back to his eyes, “Let me do it. If you don’t like it I’ll stop. Okay?”

You couldn’t believe what was happening as you nodded and smiled shyly. You watched Harry scoot out of his chair and get onto his knees with his eyes on yours as his hands ran up your thighs to your shorts, “It’s okay if I take this off?”

You let out a woozy breath and nodded, “Okay.”

Harry smirked as he began to pull down the stretchy material to reveal your cotton thong underneath. The soft groan he let out when your shorts were placed down on the grass as he pushed your legs apart had your heart pumping hard in your chest.

You pulled your lips into your mouth and held your breath as he bent toward your thighs and his fingers smoothed along the plush inside part of your legs and up to your crotch.

He scooted in closer, tucking himself between your legs and then you felt his hands on the meaty part of your hips as he pulled you toward the edge of your chair before he tucked his face in between your thighs and moaned at your smell.

You couldn’t see his face. Only the top of his head and then his nose as he pressed it against the fabric of your sweaty panties. But when he did that he bumped into your clit and you gripped the arms of your chair at that little nudge. And he did it again before he looked up at you, soft green wandering up your body to your eyes.

“Let me eat you out. Y/n,” he swallowed, “my mouth is literally watering right now. You smell so good and I want to taste you. Didn’t get the chance last time.”

You bit your lip and screwed up your brows as you looked down at the man between your legs.

“Are you sure? You really wanna do that? I just can’t imagine that it’s going to be pleasant.”

Harry brought a hand to the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. A sloppy, wet kiss that displayed just how much his mouth was watering, “I want to so bad. You can stop me if you don’t like it but don’t worry about me. I’m gonna enjoy myself if you let me.”

You huffed a breath and nodded, “Fine. But… Are you sure?”

His thumbs were pressing against the apex of where your thighs met your crotch, “Is that a yes?”

Rolling your eyes you nodded, “Yes.”

The grin on his face widened as his lips parted and he looped a finger into the fabric covering your pussy and pulled it aside. He dragged his middle finger through your crease and looked from your labia up to your eyes, “Relax.”

Harry bent down and licked a wet tongue over your pussylips and repeated, licking up and up until he pressed into your labia, spreading it apart and lapping through your folds.

He wasn’t sure why he loved it. He enjoyed the scent of women in general but your sweaty, natural scent, unwashed and concentrated had his mind going blank. Like he was an animal and needed to permeate himself with your smell. Needed to eat it and digest it and roll his body around in it.

And the tangy, salty flavor was so feminine and powerful and real… He moaned as he wrapped his soft lips around your clit and carefully tongued over your bud. You let your head loll back as you kept a grip on the arms of the chair you were sitting in when Harry lifted one of your thighs and draped it over his shoulder so he had a better angle of your cunt for his access.

You hoped the neighbors on the other side of the fence couldn’t see anything. If they did, it would just be your back with a man on his knees in front of the chair you were sitting in. But more than that it was the noises you were making that could pose a real problem.

Biting your lip to stifle your moans you looked back down at him. Soft curls on his head, eyes closed, pink lips smoothing against your pussy and lapping at the arousal he was creating. You could see your shiny slick on his tongue as you grew wetter and wetter. The angle at which you were sitting gave you the dirtiest view.

Harry tugged at the fabric of your panties again and ran his tongue along the outside of your pussy under the material of your panties and then he looked up at you as he brought his lips up to your clit and smushed them down onto you and kissed softly before parting from your pussy, “I need to have you riding my mouth,” he panted, “Need this all over my face. Can we go inside?”

You were in a daze. Harry had very efficiently worked you up in a frenzy and you’d nearly forgotten about your smell as you nodded and he pulled you up out of your seat, walking you into your house.

He was rushed as he pulled you along and into your bedroom where he gripped onto your hips and smeared his you scented lips against yours. You weren’t a fan of the smell in all honesty. It was too much. You didn’t mind your scent when you were clean but you hadn’t showered since that morning and to you, it just smelled like unwashed crotch.

His hands slid under the band of your thong as he pushed them down your hips, “Want you naked,” he breathed against your lips.

You moaned when he pulled your panties down your legs and then stood up to take off your tank top, slipping it over your head.

You reached under the elastic band of your sports bra and peeled it off as Harry stripped his own shirt off and then slid his shorts down his legs leaving him in only his boxer briefs.

He wrapped his hands around your middle and pushed you toward your bed before taking your breasts in his hands and running his thumbs over your nipples, “I’m just gonna say it, Y/n… I’m so fucking attracted to you. You’re gorgeous but the way you look right now and your taste… Kind of having a hard time thinking straight to be honest…”

You smiled at him in disbelief, but maybe you did believe him. He was acting like you were a long-awaited prize. Something he’d been saving up for and finally had the chance to have it. Could your smell be that much of a turn-on for him?

He pulled you with him into your bed, making you straddle his lap as he scooted himself into the middle of your blankets. His cock was already hard under his briefs as you brushed your pussy against the cotton fabric and you were reminded that you’d recently bought condoms. Should something like this ever happen again. But then that reminded you that you were ovulating. Big time. In fact, it was probably THE most fertile day for you in your cycle. You wondered if he could smell that somehow? Was there some kind of innate sense men had during a woman’s ovulation?

You felt his hands around your waist as he laid back and brought you up his chest, “Sit over my mouth,” he mumbled his words and his eyes were heavy as you tugged at you.

You laughed at his desperation as you pressed your knees into the mattress on either side of his head and very gently lowered yourself. You didn’t want to hurt him but he grabbed your hips and brought you down, making your pussy smother his mouth and tilt against his nose.

A gasp fell from your mouth at the sensation of his wet lips under you. He placed his hands on your ass and pressed you down further, making your clit run against his nose.

Harry would bathe in your scent. Use it as his shampoo and deodorant. Would bottle it up and make a perfume out of it. Yeah, he was losing his mind he was certain. In all his years of being sexually active, he hadn’t been so instantly obsessed with scent in this way. But it wasn’t just your scent. There was something else. Things were budding in him, like an instinctual impulse. It was something that felt ingrained, bestial. It was a base impulse that he couldn’t control.

He suctioned his mouth around your clit and looked up at you with your tits bouncing softly as you bucked your hips on him. Your pretty lips were parted and soft pants were falling from your mouth. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he needed more.

A deep, vibrating moan thrummed through your core, “Harry…” you breathed his name and looked down at him. His eyes were on yours already as he moved his mouth and tongue against you like he was a barbarian, a savage starved and heated… furious with hunger and you were his defenseless prey. A victim being fed on, eaten alive. It was filthy and so hot and he had your insides twisting and boiling with every suck of your clit.

“Fuck… you really like that don’t you,” you coughed a laugh before softly moaning as you placed your hands into his hair.

Harry’s brows were furrowed as he grunted and continued lapping and sucking. Like he had no time to respond to such a dumb question. It was obvious he liked it. No. He fucking loved it. He needed it.

His fingers pinched into your skin and you hissed at the sensation of it all. He was rough but it was good. It had you feeling like some kind of sought-after goddess over him. Like you were actually something special and he couldn’t get enough of you.

Your limbs started to quiver the closer you got. You rolled your hips down, pressing your pussy on his lips and bumping your clit against his nose as you moaned in ecstasy. The nearer your orgasm was the louder your voice became.

He drew your clit into his mouth and you felt his tongue slip up and down against it. The way you began to convulse and unravel over him nearly had you collapsing but he moved his big hands up to your waist to keep you steady as you cried out, rocking your pussy over his face.

You couldn’t control the way your body shook in your orgasm. It didn’t feel like you had full control of your movements as he continued to lick you through your release.

You jolted at how sensitive you felt, your clit suddenly feeling quite delicate and you pushed your hips up to separate from his mouth but he pulled you back down with a deep gravelly groan as he went in again, his mouth and tongue allowing no mercy.

“Harry! Fuck!” You giggled and pressed your palms onto his forehead and used your thighs to gain leverage to pull away from him, “Too much!”

You backed down his chest to move away but Harry sat up and grabbed your hips harshly, pushing your back down into the mattress after he crawled over you, “I’m going crazy or something…” he kissed down your neck and lowered his mouth to your breast and sucked the skin, swiping his tongue over every inch until he moved to the other side and delicately nibbled your nipple and pulled at it with a moan. When you felt his mouth begin to trail down your tummy as his hands began to spread your thighs again you snapped your legs closed and laughed, pushing at his forehead, “Are you serious? I’m too sensitive, Harry!”

He groaned and looked up at you, “I want more…”

You kind of loved this if you were honest. Loved how he seemed possessed by you.

“You can fuck me if you want. My clit needs a little break from your mouth, though,” you grinned at him, “Wouldn’t mind feeling you inside of me again. I have condoms this time.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches and you saw just how erect and hard he was. His cockhead was pushing at the top band of his underwear, begging to be let loose so you reached for it and pulled it away from his hips, letting his tip poke above the band, “Do you want to?”

He swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah. Fuck, okay.”

You pried his hands from your hips and moved to the edge of your bed to open up your bedside table, pulling out your fresh pack of condoms. Harry had removed his underwear quickly and then took the box from you as he moved behind you and tore the pack open to pull out a foil wrapper.

You bit your lip as you watched him toss the box onto your bed and rip the wrapper to bring the rubber out.

He looked up at you as he placed the condom on his tip, “Wish I could fuck you raw, Y/n. I know that’s a bad idea in my logical mind, but…” he looked down as he rolled his hand down his shaft and then back at you, “Something about you makes me want to do a really stupid thing,” he puffed out a laugh as he grabbed you by your neck and pushed you back into your bed.

You were completely caught off guard by his dominance but it did nothing but turn you on even more, “What really stupid thing?” You asked as he grabbed your thighs and pressed his palms to the back of them, pushing your legs out of the way of his hips as he pressed himself against you.

“It’s just a thing…” he looked directly at you as his crown pressed through your muscle, spreading you open gently, “Like lizard brain. Spreading my seed, claiming you…”

Your mouth dropped open as he plunged himself into you. That thick cock taking up so much space on your insides it ached.

“Oh fuck you feel so good, Y/n…” he growled as he began thrusting himself through your walls, getting himself good and deep, “Want to fill you up with my come is what I want…” he groaned, another stiff rut through your slick pussy, “Show everyone what I did… how I made you mine… fuck…”

You understood what it was he was saying. It was that primal thing most humans had in them to procreate. Especially men. And your ovaries were not opposed to what he was saying at that moment. But you knew that feeling would pass once you stopped ovulating.

You sighed as he rocked into you, his chest flushed and his arms flexed as he drove himself back and in over and over again until his rhythm grew brutal and he was hammering into you with deep moans.

You whined at the way he was punching into you, sliding through your cunt like he was going to die if he didn’t put his all into it. He was fucking into you like a madman.

“Oh shhhit, Harry!” You yelped out when his hips pasted against yours and he choked out a loud groan as his cock began to throb in heavy pulses inside of you.

“Fuck, I’m coming… Shit!” His face twisted up as he released into his condom, wishing he was coating your walls and letting his sperm seep into your ovaries. He felt a little bad that he didn’t make you come again, but he couldn’t hold back. He was in caveman mode, or whatever it was… completely blissed out and not thinking rationally.

You watched his handsome face scrunch up and then relax as his lips parted and he ground into you, swiveling his hips against you so hard it made your pussy clench with a pang of pain. The good kind of pain. This was the kind that was worth it. To watch this big man over you in ecstasy, soft gasps falling from his lips as his come drained out of his cock in relief.

When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you he felt your hand on his jaw with your lips turned up in a soft smile, “Better?”

He laughed and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry. That’s… I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”

You gulped and pulled at him, both of you rolling to your sides, “I’m ovulating so I wonder if you’re like smelling the pheromones or whatever?”

He grinned widely and the corners of his eyes crinkled, “Maybe? I guess that’s a thing right? But… I’m sure I’ve been around other ovulating women. Never made me insane before.”

You raised your brows as you brought a hand to his temple and smoothed his hair back a little, it was all messy from you sitting on his face, “Maybe I’m just special.”

Harry licked his lips and his grin turned into something playful with an edge of lust, “Well you certainly taste special,” he lifted your arm up and leaned in, licking up the curve of your armpit and you squealed in shock and laughed.

“What on earth? That’s so gross!” You pushed at him but he pulled your arm around his middle so you couldn’t shove him too far.

“Mmm… I swear you have something in your sweat that’s making me crazy.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “I think it’s just lizard brain. Like you said.”

Harry shrugged and nuzzled in closer to you, “Maybe. The only way to find out is if we do this more often. Probably shouldn’t wait so long between seeing each other anymore.”

You were not disappointed by the turn this took. You’d be down to see him more often if he wanted, “Yeah?”

“Definitely, yeah.”

Feedback/Thoughts | Ko-fi | Main Masterlist | Patreon

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @harrrrystylesslut @straightontilmornin @elidoho @bananabk9756 @gotdrxnkonu

[elixirfromthestars]

Usual

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Florist!Reader

Summary: Bucky keeps to his usual routine every week. On Mondays, it includes you.

Word Count: ~700

Warning(s): none. fluffy goodness <3 established nickname ⟶ tulip

a/n: This Bucky has been swimming in my head for a while, so this little drabble came out as a result. Hope you enjoyed reading! Feedback is always appreciated 🤍 Also I'm hosting a little writing challenge if you want to check it out. 🤍

the whole collection ♡

The bells above your shop door chimed a short melody as it opened. The steady thud of heavy boots followed suit. You turn to face the entrance with your usual welcoming demeanor. 

It was Monday. He always comes on Monday. 

“ Hey, Bucky. Here for the usual?” You ask like clockwork, already knowing the answer. 

“ ‘Course, Tulip,” he replies, smiling at you with that usual twinkle in his eyes. The one that only shows up when he talks to you. You can’t help the way your heart skips a beat when he uses that nickname he gave you months ago. 

“ Coming right up,” you respond, turning to the small shelves behind the counter. The ones lined up with your homemade jams and honeys. Every Monday he buys three of each to serve at his bar in a mix of different snack dishes. 

His favorite happens to be the one he named after you—Tulip’s Sweet Special.  

Bucky strolls over to the flowers that align the walls adjacent to the front counter. Rows upon rows of an array of colors and different-sized petals. A rainbow of the prettiest blooms nature has to offer. 

Meanwhile, you’re putting the mason jars of sweet spreads in a small wicker basket. Glancing at him briefly to stare at his side profile and the way he looks at the flowers intently. Almost as if waiting for them to speak to him. 

You wonder what flowers he’ll choose today. 

You don’t have to wonder for long as he walks over to the counter with a bouquet of white and pink daises, adorned with a touch of lavender. You look at them with a knowing smile on your face. The rugged biker almost looks comical—in the sweetest way—with the bouquet in hand. 

“ Will that be all?” You ask him, motioning to the flowers and the goods in the basket. Bucky nods, lightly scratching at the stubble on his face,“ That’s all, Tulip. And I’ll get ya that basket of yours later. Forgot it back at the bar,” he mentions the basket he borrowed a week ago to transport last week’s items on his bike. 

Of course, he forgot it. He always does. 

“ No need. I’ll just come by the bar later and get it,” you say to him—this little forgetful exchange an excuse to see each other again. It's about the fifth time you’ve done this little rendezvous in the last two months. 

Bucky grins in a way that would make any woman swoon,“ I’ll be waitin’ on ya then.” You can’t help the warmth that finds its way to your face. 

You ring him up, and as you’re getting his change ready he places the flowers in the empty vase on the counter. The one you leave for whatever flowers he buys for you that week. You look at them and the way he delicately places them inside, with a tender care you were one of a handful of people who’s ever seen him dawn. The action envelopes you with a doting affection.

“ Thank you for the flowers, Bucky,” you say with a soft sincerity. No matter how many times he buys you flowers the action still causes your heart to flutter.

“ No need for the thanks—or the change,” he says, lightly closing your fingers around the change in your hand with his calloused one. The slight touch is electric and it makes you both yearn for more. 

You give him that look. That usual look that says you’re doing this again and he replies with a look that conveys hell yeah I am.

You know better than to argue with that look. 

“ Come spend it at my bar later instead,” he suggests shrugging nonchalantly—but his eyes and grin reflect everything but nonchalance. There’s a deep rooted sentiment there that is desperate to be freed and brought to the surface.

You hum, pretending to think about it,“ Alright, deal.” Bucky responds to your agreement by giving you a pleased nod.

Bucky grabs the basket of goods. The rough exterior of his hands contrasted with the gentle almost tender way he held the basket. He was always delicate and careful with anything that belonged to you.

The basket looked so much smaller when he held it. 

Bucky sends you a farewell wink,“ See ya later, Tulip,” and then he turns to leave with a small wave of his hand.

“ See you later, Bucky,” you reply before leaning on the counter, hands resting in your palms. You watch him walk back out to his motorcycle with a longing stare. 

When he was out of sight, you listened intently to the revving of his engine bike, anticipating the day you two would go past the usual.

Until then you’d cherish this routine affair.

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 4,782

Warning: cursing, asshole Toji, mentions of blood, physical altercations—👀

A/N:The long-awaited part five! This was so satisfying to write. I hope you all enjoy it!! I think we have maybe one part left, maybe two. Omg! 🥹💚, If you want to be in the tag list YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Red. Red was the only color Satoru saw as he dragged his suitcase. He'd never felt so angry! Hurt! Betrayed! The emotions swirled and festered like an infected wound.

He'd let his walls down with you. A mistake he would never make in his life ever fucking again. It didn't matter how desperate a voice would sound on the phone. And it wouldn't matter if he genuinely enjoyed talking to the client or if they gave him the butterflies.

Gojo Satoru would never allow himself to be put into a situation like this again. One where he got hurt. Where he mourned the loss of a girl he barely even knew. A girl that left a scar on him no one would ever see.

The thoughts continued to swell and build up in his mind as he bought himself a hotel room next to the train station. They built up like a typhoon, threatening to destroy everything in its wake, all the way to his room, where he collapsed on the bed. Satoru didn't like feeling this suffocating pain. He needed to distract himself, to talk to one of the only people he trusted in this world.

He needed Suguru.

With a few taps of his finger over his phone screen, Satoru stared at himself, praying his best friend was still up. Which he was. Satoru sighed in relief as Suguru’s face took up the screen. His best friend was propped up in bed, his face dimly illuminated by the lamp on his nightstand. He took one look at Satoru’s face and cocked an eyebrow.

“What happened?”

Satoru chuckled, covering his eyes with his elbow. “Is it that obvious?”

“You just called me three hours ago. You said, and I quote, ‘You’re going to love her. She's got the prettiest eyes. Her skin is fucking flawless. I wanna put her mouth on my mouth.’ end quote.”

“I didn't say that last part!”

“You didn't have to say it, Satoru.” Satoru didn't argue with that. “So, are you going to tell me what happened??”

“I—” he groaned, sitting up, “we, well, ya’ know—”

“Fucked?”

Satoru glared at his only best friend. “No!” Suguru narrowed his eyes. “Well, we didn't go all the way.” God, he wished it had, but he was glad it hadn't.

“Okay? So, did she give you major blue balls? This isn't helping me decipher what happened.”

Although the pain was fresh and stung, Satoru rehashed the night's events. The kiss at the bar, you calling him after Toji showed up, and everything after. From your sudden confidence to the gentle caresses to the intense intimacy between you both. It had been so fierce, raw, and real. Satoru had never experienced kisses and caresses like yours; hell, your touch still lingered as he lay in bed ranting.

All of the chemistry he felt didn’t change the fact that he’d been hurt. He thought you were genuine, that you didn’t want to sleep with him just because of his good looks. Maybe, just maybe, you wanted to sleep with him because you felt the same spark that he did. A spark that would lead to sex, but from there, it might grow into something more! A relationship, the possibility of a future together.

But those stacks of cash changed it all.

The possibilities Satoru had been fantasizing about, wanting, came crashing around him when he counted the bills. You had been so unfazed by it. All you did was check your wallet before pulling out the bag with condoms in it. Your pitiful face when he asked about the money flashed in his mind. You had been incapable of telling him why you had all that money; you just stared blankly at it like you were trying to put two and two together.

Playing around like you didn’t know what was happening had set him off. Why would you have that much money in your purse? Conveniently, it was also the exact amount that he charged for sexual services. Services that Satoru didn’t typically provide. He had been honest with you. He didn’t like having sex with people that he didn’t know, so for him to find all that money, it set him off.

Satoru finished up his story, rubbing his hands through white hair. “So I left, and I missed the last train out. Could you pick me up in the morning? I want to get home as fast as I can.” His blue eyes darted towards his phone screen, where Geto was staring at him like he was an idiot. “What?” Satoru asked, looking at himself on the smaller screen. “Do I have something on my face?” His best friend let out the most extended, most profound sigh in the entire world.

“Are you a fucking idiot?”

“Huh?!”

“I said, are you a fucking idiot?”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed, eyebrows pinching together. “Why the fuck are you asking if I’m an idiot? Are your gauges too big? Did everything I say go through them and not into your ears?” He watched as Suguru rolled his eyes. “I just told you I found all that money in their bag! Right before we did the nasty! I confronted her, she couldn’t explain. That, to me, screams that she’s guilty, Suguru.” He gestured with his hand in front of him as if motioning toward the evidence before his face.

“Did you ever stop and think maybe she couldn’t answer because she was just as confused as you?”

“What?”

Suguru shifted, dark hair falling over his shoulders as he sat up. “Satoru,” he purred, “think about it. She left her bag where anyone could touch it while you two were—preoccupied.” Well, when he put it like that. “And how would you react if you found that much money in your wallet that wasn’t there before?” Satoru remained silent, not saying a word. “You claim she looked guilty because she couldn’t explain it. But what if she truly couldn’t? And you left before even giving her a chance to explain herself.” Yeah, he did; he left you crying at the inn.

Thinking back to how you ran after him, grabbing his arm, stumbling over your feet, would someone guilty do that? Try to explain themselves, beg for him to stop and listen.

“I-I don’t know how it got there, Satoru! Please! Please believe me!”

Your tear-filled eyes, the shuddering tremble in your voice, and the blatant way he’d coldly dismissed your attempts to clear things up had his stomach twisting. The fury that had been fuming deep at his core had blinded him. He didn’t even give you a chance to talk, to explain what had happened.

“I’m so fucking stupid.” He mumbled out, putting his phone down to scrub at his face. “Why didn’t I stop and listen?!”

“Because you like her.” There was something in the tone of Suguru’s voice that had Satoru glancing at his phone. “You genuinely like her Satoru, so when you assumed she just wanted to fuck you just as an escort and not as a potential lover, that broke your heart.” Satoru opened his mouth to argue. “Don’t try to deny it; you just bitched at me for like an hour like some school girl who just got dumped.”

”Fuck you,” Suguru chuckled, knowing Satoru’s words held no heat in them. “So what do I do now? Run back over there, tell her how sorry I am?”

”Well, honestly, if I were in her position, I would slam the door in your face. The whole ‘consider the orgasm, payment for the cancellation of my services’ was fucking harsh.”

”Yeah, not my finest moment.”

“Well, use that Gojo Sator charm and make it up to her.”

After hanging up the phone with Suguru, Satoru plopped down on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. That red-hot rage had faded into regret. He should have listened to you; he should have stopped the second you grabbed his arm. Instead, he pulled away, refusing to listen to what you had to say.

He made you cry like you did when you told him about Toji.

Seeing you that upset had made him sick to his stomach. He thought, what kind of dick makes a girl cry like this? He hated people like that, people that were so cruel. Now the tables had turned, and he was the dick.

God, what are you doing right now? Were you still crying? Maybe you were pacing the room, thinking about what you would do since your wedding date just up and left you. How were you going to explain this to your friends and family? Or were you dreading the pathetic, woeful faces that would be on the faces of your friends and family when you told them he left? You had hired him to make this wedding easier to attend, but he had turned it into an even worse experience for you.

Gojo had been right about you crying. You were curled into a ball on the futon that still smelt like him. Your chest heaved as you screamed into his pillow, gripping it as you let the waves of anguish wash over you, pulling you deeper and deeper into the suffocating waters of despair.

You cried yourself to sleep, waking up with a numbness in your chest as the flashbacks from the night before plagued you. It had been perfect, too perfect. The butterflies, Satoru’s kisses, the pleasure. You felt so good about him, about the two of you, about yourself, to have it come crashing down around you in seconds.

It hurt being yelled at and screamed at and blamed for something you hadn’t done. The rage and betrayal in Satoru’s eyes burned into your mind, and his words sliced so deep into your skin that they touched your soul. You hadn’t been hurt like that since Toji broke up with you, and that had nearly destroyed you. You ran away from the pain, refused to talk to anyone, and stayed in bed for days. Your heart had been broken into a million different pieces, and it took you so long to put it back together. To allow yourself to live your life.

Luckily, your heart was stronger now, scarred and rough. The pain that it had undergone a year before had made it more durable and harder to break. This heartache was not going to destroy you this time around.

Pushing yourself out of bed, you exhaled heavily through your nose before pushing your hair out of your face. You could do this. You didn't need a wedding date to survive the next two days. You were fully capable of getting through this by yourself.

You put on a smile and got ready for your day. Everything hurt, but you would be able to get through it like you had done before. This heartache would not hold you down. You headed into the kitchen, greeting your family as they cleaned dishes from the morning breakfasts that had already been delivered to guests and discussed preparations for the next two nights.

Their voices were white noise as you pulled a bowl of peaches from the fridge. They asked if you were okay if Satoru felt okay since he wasn’t with you. Hearing them say his name stung, but it didn’t stop you from moving, washing peaches, and peeling them as you preheated the oven.

”He left.” You told the truth, not the whole truth, but you weren’t ashamed to tell them he left you. Their reactions varied from confusion and anger to stunned silence and disbelief. “I’ll be okay.” You assured all of them, urging them to go about preparations for the wedding. Right now, all you wanted to do was be alone, to bake the anger and sorrow out of your system.

They granted your wish, leaving you alone in the kitchen. The atmosphere was drastically different from the night before. You giggled and smiled as Satoru stood by your side; those beautiful, captivating blue eyes wandered, watching your hands move. The heat from his gaze alone had the kitchen so hot you thought every oven had been on when they hadn’t. Now, the only warmth that flooded the space was from the oven and stove as you cooked down the peaches in syrup.

You moved unthinkingly, cooking butter into three trays, before setting the stew pot of peaches off to the side. Mind and body numb as you focused on mixing your flour, sugar, and milk in a bowl, you never heard the footsteps behind you. It wasn’t until the timer on your phone went off that you turned, running into a firm chest. You knew the smell of fresh linen masked with musk, and it made you want to throw up.

Satoru rubbed at his neck, glancing down at you. Dark circles were under his eyes as he placed his sunglasses on his head. Even when he looked exhausted, he was still handsome, which irked you.

“Hey.” He spoke softly, like his voice alone would shatter you as if you were a porcelain doll. You said nothing, stepping to the side to turn your timer off. “Can we talk?”

You ignored him, taking out the trays of melted butter from the oven. You put cinnamon, baking powder, and salt into your batter before whisking it bitterly. Satoru moved, gently grabbing your elbow and stopping you from running further away.

“Please.”

“No.” You snapped, pulling away so you could continue to construct the dessert for the rehearsal dinner tonight.

“Sweetie, please.”

“Oh my god!” You slammed the bowl down, turning to shove at Satoru's chest. “You fucking left! You left when I wanted to talk last night!”

“I know I did.”

His eyes never left your face, and his undivided attention only pissed you off more. “Well, guess what? I don’t want to fucking talk now.” Despite your dismissal, Satoru didn’t move. He stayed near your side, watching as your hands moved, putting the peaches on top of the batter. “Don’t you have a train to catch?”

“No, I have a wedding to attend—“

“The fuck you do.”

“You paid for me—“

“And you canceled your services!” Satoru grimaced as you all but threw the trays into the oven. “You paid me with an orgasm, remember?! Because I remember!”

He followed you as you headed to the sink with your dirty dishes. His hand gently grabs your elbow. “Look! Please listen to me.” He took the dishes from your hands, placing them in the sink. “I was an asshole last night, whatever this,” his finger gestures between your bodies, “it’s new and raw and real.” You barked out a laugh. “Stop, please. I messed up; I know I did. And I’m sorry for flipping out on you. But this is worth fighting over; I want to be with you.” His words were regretful; his face matched the panicked pain behind his voice.

That didn’t change the fact he’d hurt you. “Gojo.” The use of his last name had his heart crushed. “You did mess up, you hurt me.” You stepped back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Let’s be honest, this.” You mimicked his finger, gesturing between you. “This is never going to work, not after last night. I had my heart broken once after I was intimate with someone, and you knew that. You knew I didn’t want to have sex. I specified that several times. I put myself out there, out of my comfort zone, because I genuinely liked you. Now, well, let’s be honest: my heart has been broken twice now. So I’m going to ask you to leave.” Satoru swallowed hard, removing his glasses and putting them on the counter.

“Please don’t say that, please.”

“Go.” You pointed to the door, fighting back tears. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

He grips the counter before lifting his head to meet your teary eyes. “Okay,” he reached out, gently brushing away a stray tear, “I’m sorry for breaking your heart.” His gesture had your breath hitching as he turned, heading out of the kitchen with his hands in his pockets.

The moment you were sure he was far enough that he couldn’t hear you, a shaky cry left your lips. You stumbled, your legs no longer wanting to hold you up. How dare he come back and apologize after breaking your heart the night before. If he didn’t apologize, things would have been so much easier for you. You could have grown to hate him, but seeing how upset he looked hearing the pleading tone in his voice, made you want to throw your resolve away to chase after him.

But would a relationship with him work?

He was an escort. People paid him to go out with him. Could you date him, knowing that’s what he did for a living? To be the woman waiting at home for him to come back?

He said he wanted to fight for this, for you and whatever this strange relationship was turning into. He wanted to be with you. So, did that mean he would give up on being an escort? Would he be okay with that? The questions flowed like a steady river through your mind as you sat on the kitchen floor. These were questions you would never get the answers to, all because you sent him away.

Footsteps entered the kitchen as you stared at the floor. You perked up, clenching your fists tight, digging your nails into the palms of your hands. Did Satoru come back? You tilted your head up, tears streaming down your cheeks, to find Toji smirking down at you. The last person on the planet you wanted to see.

”Why are you on the floor?”

”Why won’t you leave me alone?” You snapped as you pushed yourself off the floor.

Toji hummed, leaning over the counter as you went to the sink to clean your dishes. “Because I want to talk to you. But you keep avoiding me.” You threw the whisk into the sink, whirling around.

“You wanna talk? Fine, let’s fucking talk, Toji!” You shrugged a shoulder. “Not that there’s much to talk about, seeing that you’re the one that broke up with me. And last night, you made it painfully obvious that you didn’t want to be with me. So please tell me! What. The. Fuck. Is. There. To. Discuss?!” You screamed, putting both hands on your hips, glaring daggers at the first man who broke your heart.

“Fuck.” He laughed, his eyes trailing up and down your body. “You got feisty in the year that you’ve been away.” When he saw how you glared at him, he held up a hand. “Right, right, fine, I’ll talk.” He straightened his back. “But first, did you enjoy yourself last night?”

His words had your heart dropping into your stomach. “I-I’m sorry?” You asked, hoping that you heard him wrong.

”I asked how your night was. Finally, get dicked down?”

”What?”

”Oh, right, you didn’t know.” He strode forward, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefingers, forcing you to look into his dark eyes. “After you left, I got a job. I’m a PI, the best in the business.” You felt goosebumps rise against your skin as he leaned beside your ear. “I did a little research into this Gojo Satoru, heir to the Gojo business. It took a little digging, but I eventually found his profile in Escorts4you.com.”

You were frozen in shock and fear. “You knew?” Of course, he knew; he knew something was up the first night.

“To think my ex-fiancée hired a fucking escort to be her date to a wedding. I had a good laugh over it. But when I saw the prices, oof, I know you,” toji squeezed your cheeks, “a pathetic baker from a cafe could never, ever afford to get fucked by a pretty boy like him.”

“W-Wait—“your head spun, “wait, it was you; you put the money in my bag?”

“Ding-ding-ding,” He reached into his pocket, holding another wad of cash towards you. “¥480,000, the money you used to cover rent when I was out of a job.” He put the money on the counter behind you. “I’ve been wanting to pay you back. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You put—you put the money—“

“But seeing that you were able to buy a high-end escort for an entire week, I figured that maybe you wanted more. So I figured I’d give you half to get the full escort experience.”

“It was you—-“

Toji smirked, gently patting your cheek. “Yep, I found your bag in the kitchen last night. Put half the money in there.” Your ears started ringing as he pulled back. “So tell me, did he fuck you as good as I did? Did he make you scream and cry like me~?” He pulled back, smirking down at you. “Or have I ruined all other men for you?”

Ruined? The only thing he ruined was what you and Satoru had. He fucked this up! It was all because of him!

“You son of a bitch!” You screamed, slapping him across the face. Toji stumbled back, grunting as he cupped his cheek in shock. “Do you know what you did!?” You slapped him again, harder.

“Ow, what?!”

“You ruined everything!” He took several steps back as you grabbed the plastic flour container, throwing it at him, which he dodged. “Yes! I hired Satoru! But I wasn't going to sleep with him!” You tossed a spatula at him, trying to close the distance so you could hit him some more. “But what was supposed to be a job turned into something more! I liked him! I liked him, you asshole!”

Toji dodged a cookie tray, “Well, tell him that!” You rushed forward, slamming your fists against his chest.

“He found the money! And he assumed I was going to pay him to sleep with me!”

“Stop it!” He snarled, grabbing your wrists, forcing you to cease your assault. “Look, I didn’t know you legitimately liked the guy!”

You snapped, yanking your wrists free before kneeing him in the crotch. Toji gasped out, hands reaching down, cupping himself as he stumbled. Vision blurring with tears, you weakly slapped at his shoulders.

“You’re always ruining everything! You broke my heart! I didn’t get to pastry school, and I lost a nice guy because of you!” A gut-wrenching sob made its way through you. “Did you stop to think that maybe I was happy?!”

Your heart was pounding, thundering in your ears as you cried, and cried, and you kept crying as Toji straightened. “Look, I didn’t know it was serious. But if you keep hitting me, we’re going to have a major fuckin’ problem.”

He hissed his vague threat through his teeth. Hearing that only pissed you off more. So you did what anyone else would to the man who broke your heart and kept butting in your life. You pulled your hand back and slapped him as hard as you could. He winced, bangs shielding his eyes as he growled.

When he snapped in your direction, he received another slap. It was when you went in for a third slap that Toji’s hand flew up, grabbing your wrist and squeezing it. He crowded you against the wall, scowling down at your smaller form.

“I told you to stop fucking hitting me!”

“I hate you! Let me go!”

“Are ya’ going to stop hitting me?!”

“No!”

“Then tough shit!”

You kicked at his shins, but he easily avoided you. You were going to kick his ass, beat him into a bloody pulp—once you freed yourself. But all the fight vanished as you saw two ivory fingers tap Toji on the shoulder. He turned around, only to be knocked back by a powerful punch. You stared at Toji, who spit out blood, his gaze locked on the man standing at six-three. Satoru shook his hand, fingers brushing over his knuckles as he glared.

His lip twitched, revealing sharp canines as he stepped forward. “Oh, you think that hurt? Wait until I get a good hit in.” He clenched his fists into tight balls, continuing to close the distance between them.

“Oh, you don’t wanna fuck with me. I’ll fuck up your face so bad you’ll never get a ‘client’ again.”

“Why you—”

“Wait!” You yelled out, jumping between the two men and holding your arms out. “Stop! Stop it!”

Satoru looked down at you as if you’d lost your mind, his momentum stopping. Toji kept moving until your fingers grazed his chest. With a deep sigh, you looked up at Satoru, giving him a gentle smile, one that had his cheeks flushing.

“I got this.” the softness of your voice was the only convincing he needed. With a curt nod, he crossed his arms over his chest as you turned to look into Toji’s eyes. “You have fucked with my life for the last time.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep!” You grinned wide and warmly before punching him directly in the nose. “Try that shit again! I dare you! I fuckin’ dare you!!”

“Oooh!” Just as you went in for another punch, you were picked up, and Satoru carried you out of the kitchen. “Easy there, I don’t want you getting arrested.”

You flailed in his arms, “I’m serious, Fushiguro!” Your ex groaned, cupping his hands over his bleeding nose as you jammed your finger at him. “That was the last time you’ll ever interfere with my life!” You glanced over your shoulder, watching Satoru grab his forgotten sunglasses off the counter before heading down the hall.

“Oh!” You heard your mother squeak out as Satoru passed them. “What’s going on? I thought you said Satoru left!”

Satoru grinned, turning to face her as he passed. “Me leave her?” He shifts, throwing you over his shoulder. “I’m not making that mistake again.” You squeak as he bounds down the hall.

“W-Wait, the cobblers! Mom, take them out of the oven!”

The halls were a blur as Satoru carried you to the room you both had shared. Only once inside, he gently places you down, taking several steps back, giving you space. You remained silent, nursing the hand you had punched Toji with.

“Do you want some ice?” Satoru said softly, eyes following you as you sat down on the futon, thumb rubbing over your red knuckles.

“No.”

You could hear him wince at your stiff tone. “Are you sure?” He slowly approached you, not moving too fast, as if you would bolt if he did. “It could make baking hard if you don’t take care of it.” Your heart slowly crawled up your throat as he sat before you, crossing his legs.

“You know what I want?” Satoru inhaled slowly, holding it for the briefest of moments before exhaling.

“No, what is it you want?”

You slowly lifted your head, eyes locked on his. He was stiff, pulse visible in his throat as he waited for you. Seeing him like this, like a child waiting to be reprimanded, had you swallowing hard as you opened your mouth, the words leaving Satoru’s eyes wide as he rocked back at your request.

“You want what?”

Tag List/ (AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira @faeryminnyx @tqd4455 @harmonyflora @volkins181-blog @noukstmblr @lovley212 @stinkinstuffie @desihopelessromantic @witchbybirth @sonicsolos @lilbiguy @supsiii @rentheannihilator @bloopsstuff @pepepepepopopopo @pandoness @sw33cadav3r @rixo-19 19 @meguvmii @sxnkuna @mmeerraa @lemonintrovert01 1 @bunny-lily @kibananya @kamastar39 @rjreins @lzaj19 @tiredflame132 @manyno @oliiper @rengokushair @simp-plague @matchalatte06 @haesify y @majanggeum

[tpwk-formula1]

Hi, i hope you’re doing well :) Can i order sicilian crust with alfredo sauce. For the toppings can i have red peppers, mushrooms, feta cheese, roasted artichokes, bbq chicken, sun dried and tomatoes. To drink i will have water, dr.pepper, and truly with dessert and lewis hamilton please and thank you so much💋💋💋

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicilian dating Alfredo sweet sex red peppers “No. Go change” mushrooms "Wrong, wanna try again" feta “God, I love watching your makeup get ruined” roasted artichokes “im gonna put a baby in you” bbq chicken “Gonna let me cum in you? I know you wanna have my baby” sundried tomatoes "Gonna look so pretty pregnant" tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" water breeding kink dr pepper dirty talk truly belly bulge dessert yes served by Lewis Hamilton

Lewis x longtime GF! reader

TW - riding, unprotected sex, breeding kink, missionary, dirty panties

WC 1200+

Y/N POV

"Love, is this okay?" I ask for a second time tonight. Lewis and I were gonna be going to a post-season party now that everyone was back in Monaco and wanted to celebrate the end of another great season.

“No. Go change” Lewis tells me roughly making me groan and roll my eyes.

"Baby, what is wrong with this one?" I ask softly while approaching him. The first outfit I came out in was just my lingerie wanting to tease Lewis but this was what I had been planning to wear and I was a bit confused as to why he was saying no.

"Doesn't match my outfit," Lewis tells me softly making me laugh and shake my head.

"So glad it was because the color of my dress was wrong and not you becoming an insecure man worried about my legs showing," I tell him softly making him scoff jokingly before we both break into a small fit of laughter.

"Never that, can I pick," Lewis asks with a boyish glint in his eye making me smile softly and nod my head yes. Lewis softly pushes me off his lap before we both make our way into our large shared closet where he instantly starts looking for a dress that would match his outfit.

"How about this?" Lewis asked softly while holding up a light blue dress with a deep V neckline that showed off my tits and curves perfecting. It was one of Lewis's favorite dresses I have ever owned so I'm not in the least bit surprised.

"I don't know. I feel like it shows too much skin," I tell Lewis softly while walking over to the other side of my closet where I pull out a dress in the same shade of blue but a bit more modest making Lewis's face turn upwards in disgust.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" Lewis says almost in a joking manner.

"I picked this one 'cause I wanna show you off tonight," Lewis explains softly making me smile and nod my head.

"Fine, only because we are celebrating you and your final season with Mercedes coming to an end," I tell him softly while slipping off the first dress I had on and letting Lewis help me into the dress he had picked.

When Lewis had the dress all the way zipped up we both walked over to the full-length mirror where we both looked into it and smiled.

"God, you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen," Lewis groans softly making me smile.

"You really know your stuff," I joke while stroking my hands down my dress making sure it's laying on my body just right.

"We leave in 30 minutes, are you all ready?" Lewis asked softly while still longuing in just his boxers knowing he will only need a couple of minutes to throw his outfit on.

"Ya, just need to put my lipstick on," I tell him softly while making my way to where he was sitting on the bed before crawling into his laps.

"30 minutes is enough time to let me ride you," I saw with a smirk making Lewis groan and helps rut my hips into his hardening cock.

"Fuck, you little minx," Lewis says with a smirk making me whimper and pull off the dress Lewis had just helped me pick out.

Once I'm down into just my thong I feel Lewis pull his hard cock out of his boxers making me whimper when I see how hard he already is.

"Go on," Lewis says with a smirk while rubbing a few fingers through my soaked folds making me whimper as I situate myself over his cock before sinking down slowly.

"Oh god," I whimper once Lewis is fully seated in my pussy. I start rocking my hips trying to stretch myself as much as possible on Lewis's cock before I start bouncing.

“Gonna let me cum in you? I know you wanna have my baby,” Lewis groaned out making me whimper and nod my head.

"Yes cum in me tonight Lewis, please," I beg bouncing faster trying to hit all the right stops before Lewis roughly flips us over so I am now on my back letting Lewis fuck into me making me whimper.

"Fuck, I can see you in me," I gasp when I look down and notice Lewis's cock is creating a bulge in my stomach everytime he pushes in.

"Soon, instead of my cock giving you a bump it's gonna be my babies," Lewis groan speeding up his actions making me cry out when i feel his fingers on my clit.

"Oh god, it's too much," I gasp through tears pouring down my face making Lewis smirk at the sight.

“God, I love watching your makeup get ruined,” Lewis comments when he sees my tears starting to streak my mascara.

"Fuck Lewis, slow down a bit," I groan which only makes Lewis speed up sending me into a quick and powerful orgasm.

"Oh god," I cry out as Lewis continued fucking me through my first orgasm of the night.

"Lewis, hurry I have to fix my makeup," I whine when I notice he is in no way slowing down.

"Wrong, wanna try again," Lewis groans when he hears the mention of my makeup being fixed.

"Just take it off then. I'm not done with this sweet little pussy," Lewis continues making my head spin from all the pleasure.

"Lew, I feel like I might cum again," I whine out making Lewis speed up his thrust a bit.

"Fuck I'm gonna put a baby in you," Lewis groans when he can feel himself getting close to the edge as well.

"Cum with me," Lewis says roughly before he starts spilling his seed deep into my pussy sending me into another screaming orgasm. Once Lewis helps the both of us ride out our orgasm he quickly moves my thong back into place to capture as much of his cum as possible.

"Don't you fucking dare change those! Want you to feel my cum all night, remind you that you're mine," Lewis tells me while leaning down and kissing my lips before finding my discarded dress on the ground and helping me back into it before I head into the bathroom to see the damage done on my makeup.

It wasn't the worst it could have been but it could be better. I quickly touch up my makeup slightly keeping some smudge mascara around my eyes. To anyone that wasn't Lewis and I they would assume I was going for a smoked-out eyeliner look but Lewis and I would know the truth that it came from crying while he filled up my pussy.

"Gonna look so pretty pregnant," Lewis said softly while coming into the bathroom and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"You think it's only gonna take one time," I tease with a raised brow.

"Oh don't worry I'm gonna fill that pussy up every day until I see a positive test," Lewis said with a smirk making me laugh lightly.

"When we get home can we have a serious conversation about this. I don't wanna get my hopes up if you're not serious," I tell Lewis softly making him smile and nod his head.

"well, to ease your mind I am very serious. I will be the father of your children and you're the only woman worthy to carry on the Hamilton legacy. But yes we can have a conversation tonight," Lewis tells me softly pulling me in for a quick kiss before we got a call letting us know our driver was here.

[moonlight-starlight-lady01]

How...how are you alive?

Kenji sato x Fem! [Different demention] Reader.

☆♡☆♡☆

SUMMARY:Ken had a lover named Y/n, but she had passed away. He was devastated from that. Then 2 years later his mother was declared dead. So he took the opportunity to move to japan and restart his career in his home country. But then something strange happened. There was a exact copy of his lover in his living room. Except she wasnt his y/n. She was different.....from a different demention.

[A/n:Im gonna try and make this into like a series i guess lol]

(Warning: sexual tension, angst, confusion, crying, my cutie ken sad basically the whole story. Y/n has brown eyes & brown hair[ya know bc shes from a different demention]<tell me if i missed any>)

Pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5.

♡♡♡♡

It was different. Sad. Not like what he had thought his life would feel like. Y/n had died 2 years ago because of cancer. He remembers her blue eyes sparkling like the ocean when the sun began to rise from the night sky. Her blonde hair swaying in the wind perfectly all fluffy and soft. Her plumped lips smiling showing her pearly white teeth. Her dress would be thigh length and sway in the wind so majestically. Her sweet voice would say the most beautiful things when she spoke. But then....her eyes became dried cracked wholes in her head. Her hair began to fall out and become like straw. Her smile started to turn into a signature line. Her voice started to sound ruff and hard. But one thing never changed. How much she loved Kenji. Everytime she saw him walk into her hospital room with the signature red roses and smiling happy to see her fiancé. But then it all ended with that one last beep on the monitor. After that he didnt want to find love ever again. It hurt to much. The sound of her laughter when they would cuddle and tickle each other. Or when they would wake up with each other in bed and stay there all day. It wouldn't be the same.

Then 2 years after that his mom was declared dead. Something snapped in him. He moved to japan to restart his career and forget about everything that wanted to make him cry all day.

So now he was on his way to play basbell. The Giants. Fight as Ultra man. And restart. But how he had asked to please make the pain stop to anything that could have the power to. Anything.

.

.

.

That was until he woke up to a crashing in his living room and a female screaming.

He had grabbed his baseball bat and tip toed to the sound. It was a girl. A women. She turned around and looked at him scared.

.

.

.

It was Y/n.

But it wasn't her exactly....She has brown hair and brown eyes. Probably taller than her and more plump in some areas...*ahem*.

"(Y/n?)"

She looked even more confused. "Uh, yes" she said uncertain. "Who are you and why the fuck am i here?"

He was in shock. Why was there someone that looked like his y/n but so so different. Plus his y/n never cussed. The only bad word he ever heard her say was crap. And she said fuck like shes used to saying it.

"W-Wait, you dont know me?" Kenji asked confused. He waited for her answer. ".....nooo?"

Fuck. What the fuck. How is this possible.

But, after some time. He learned that Y/n was 22 and was living in California. She worked at a cafe and book store to make ends meat. She was the complete opposite to what y/n was like. She didn't even have the same color at all like her. Brown hair, brown eyes, playful/sassy attitude and less innocent.

"Well, can you help me get to my home demention because like ya know, im not suppose to be in this one?"

Damn. She's right. She has to go home sometime. He looks at her thinking.

"Plus, everytime you look at me your litterely burning holes into my ass and tits"

Yep she definitely not his Y/n. How will this go now. His life is already a mess to began with...

♡♡♡♡

[lovelybeesthings]

Dancer

Coriolanus Snow x fem reader

Warnings: Smut, size difference

Context: what if Lucy Grey was forced to kill another tribute as it was down to the two of them and y/n kills Lucy and Snow gets caught with his actions of cheating and sent to distract 6 and meets the winner of the 10th hunger games?

As it was down to two tributes Lucy Grey and Y/n L/n Snow was anxious analyzing each step and preying hopefully Lucy could find a way to win as the snakes were close to Y/n she kept fighting, and her gorgeous hair looked still tactful she seemed innocent but her actions far from it using an axe and he own hands to fight back from dead tributes.

As snow thoughts raced he completely forgot to look at the screen until one sound came out a woman’s scream but..a voice he recognized, once he looked up at the screens he saw Lucy’s gray body lying with blood coming out from her body her dress and corset while the tribute who won y/n closed her eyes crying as she was almost disgusted with her actions and once she opens them she made sure to close Lucy’s a sweet act from a girl who used a salvage method to end another’s.

As he couldn’t look anymore he heard words coming out of the TV “I’m s-sorry, I’m so so-sorry” the girl cried out so innocently at the moment she caused him to snap out the moment he turned his head seeing her mentor cheer and some cheered for them while some watched the screen feeling sympathy for the winner.

As she got up wobbly her hands so slim and skinny were stained with blood from what she knew Lucy and y/n were a bit smaller poor young girls in a hunt and both had hobbies that they were talented about Y/n was credited for her dancing skills and sung a little. So only after the events, Coriolanus was punished for cheating by Highbottem and sent to be a peacekeeper in District 7 where the winner of the 10th games lived.

After settling down he heard from fellow peacekeepers that down at the hub, there was gonna be a little celebration for y/n she had been very popular in her district he'd heard that she truly their angle, and when she was reaped it made everyone devastated, and hopeful something that drew the line between the two Lucy Grey was a girl that was forgetful for distract 12 while Y/n L/n was a name everyone knew a girl who could not be forgetful.

As he went with some peacekeepers he saw her up on the stage in a lovely flower dress Brown boots with roses on them hair half up half down pigtails ribbons holding them she fixed the mic and went back to her bass roses crested on the base red and white which caught his attention soon the remainder of the members came out and the music started to play people danced smiling giggling though his eyes were drawn to Y/n and who playing the bass she had and another girl who seemed like her sister singing in the mic together as Y/n had a sweet smile this wasn't the girl who had murdered cruelly this was a girl who had to fight for her life for people she cared about in the arena.

As they soon changed songs Y/n hopped off the stage to dance with people on the floor a few young children older fellow and some peacekeepers… “would you like to dance Mister?”

He hadn't noticed her appear to him he was taller than the girl her hair was different from what he saw in arena hair (whatever your hair resembles color-wise) he was flushed with emotions but the only one he could think of was he was flustered “I uh don't know how to dance-” he said as he soon was interpreted with her sweet words that felt like honey “it's easy ill show ya” she says as she took his hands to the floor as the music played she put his hands on her hips and her hands to his shoulders and instructs his feet as he watches her boots and her dress and her hair in the wind as she dances he was amazed by her moves and her beauty at the moment.

His face was ridden with pink he was so happy at that moment and before he knew it she had slipped away dancing with the next person as he sighed the feelings she had left him were strong know something he felt with Lucy…but stronger than it as he realizes a ribbon was in his hand the ribbon she had in her hair he soon put it in his pocket and watched from the sidelines, she soon went back up to play her bass and sing.

Something he was surprised about was that she started dancing on the stage with her sister smiling and giggling then after that they wrapped up their instruments and got ready to leave before Coriolanus knew it his legs moved on his own she was on the stage packing her bass kneeling struggling to close the case “gosh dang it!” he was blushing as he swallowed his nervous and spoke “Need some help?” she jumped to the words spoken to her and turned her head softening to his words “Yes, please” he got down on his knees beside her shutting the case “I'm Coriolanus Snow” She beamed even brighter “Well nice to meet you Croyo” his face felt warm to her nickname for him

As he carried out the case for Bass she had led him to her home and when he placed it down he smiled as she began to say goodbye “Thank you again for bringing all the way home for me Croyo” She then tippytoed her boots and kissed him on his cheek and smiled blushing then shutting the door.

(Time skip)

Y/n had opened up about the nightmares and panic attacks she gets about the games and the haunting faces of the people she had to murder the most regret she had for Lucy Grey making her cry into his arms in the moment he didn't even care about Lucy grey he was more into the fact he was able to hold Y/n he felt bad but felt a need to make her always run in his arms aomoem she can turn to the only person she can turn to. He felt that it wasn't needed to tell her about his past in the Capitol he knew at one point he'd tell her but not yet.

“Croyo I want to take the next step in our relationship,” she says blushing not being able to look him in the face “All alright..” he says with a smug face but soon changes once she looks up at him as he runs light kisses down my cheek and jawline, his breath heated on my skin, making me quiver with happiness he began to unzip my dress leaving me in my custom undergarments with roses plastered on them I took him back a minute and then continued to take off his clothes until he was bare naked my eyes traced every bicep very ab and my face becomes red when I get to his “my little rose petal~” he says as I look back up to his eyes as he smirks and unhooks my laced bra and panties giving myself to him.

His hands began to trace the curves of my body and then study each other's mouths, savoring the sensation of each other's warm bodies pressed tightly against one another. He was now holding my breast in his hands and then began to Lick them and bite on the nip causing me to shiver and moan out blushing then His Dick pressed against the crack of my thighs, stretching my yearning pussy open for him the comfort of his touch quickly entered throughout my body.

He slowly sank inside me, filling me, his movements slow and steady. The feeling of his dick in me made me flutter as he was able to see his member in my stomach making me even harder the thrill of each thrust drew me closer to my release, the peak growing within me with each succeeding pulse of his body against mine.

As my eyes rolled back into my skull, his big cock buried deep within me, a loud gasp from my lips as he buried himself even further inside me, his balls smacking against me “Fuck you're so tight” he moaned “So close-e!” I moan as he nods and soon releases inside of me he kisses my forehead and falls on top of me as we both fall asleep to each other naked body.

“I love you y/n,” he says to me slumbering body waiting for a response then speaks again “You're mine forever I'll never let you go I've already made that mistake once I won't let it happen again,” he says possessive holding y/n in his arms and closeting his eyes.

THE END THIS A ONE SHOT

[lou-struck]

Made With Love Part 4

OM Brothers & Datables x reader pt.4

Featuring: Diavolo, Barabatos, and Solomon.

MASTERLIST !

Warnings: Love Potion based personality changes, obsessive behaviors, mention of suggestive behavior, lots of teasing, kissing, touching, etc.

A/n: I know it has taken me wayyy too long to post this, but thank you to everyone who has encouraged me to continue this series. I really hope you enjoy this part and chose to come back to read the finale!

The Banquet Hall has exploded into quite the mess. Books and pillows are strewn about the room as Mammon and a still-drying Levi tear through its nooks and crannies with fearful urgency. 

"Keep searching," Lucifer orders his younger brothers from his seat. His symptoms have somewhat subsided, but even in this urgent situation, his Pride would never allow him to be seen recklessly tearing through the castle's cupboards like an idiot. "Beel hasn't eaten anything in hours. Once he recovers, he will devour anything he comes across. If he ends up eating another one of those cookies accidentally, Mc will have even more of a mess to clean up than they currently do. 

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Mammon groans. "This would be a lot easier if I had some help." He mutters the second part under his breath while shooting daggers at Satan and Asmodeus. 

From the loveseat in the corner, The Avatar of Wrath flinches in pain at the slightest noise as he recovers from the Potion's hangover-esque after-effects. A large pillow rests in front of his face, shielding his eyes from the glare of the moonlight that shines through the windows. 

Asmodeus on the other hand, is faring much better than his brother and is just boredly twirling a lock of his champagne colored hair in his fingers. His ability to rally after years of partying has prepared him for this. 

Feeling the three pairs of eyes now resting on him, the Avatar of Lust hides a grin and sinks deeper into his cushion with a dramatic groan. "Oh nooo, I feel soooo sick." He lifts an arm and places the back of his hand on his head in a distressed manner. 

Not caring for his brother's theatrics, Lucifer rolls his eyes and lets out a deep sigh of disappointment. "Stop complaining, Mammon; we have had time to recuperate, and so shall they. "

Before Mammon can complain further about the other's work ethic, Satan mutters something incomprehensible from under his pillow. 

"What was that, Satan?" Lucifer asks, lowering his voice as an act of mercy towards his brother; the Potion affected his head far more than the others, so he cannot help but pity the fourth born for the headache he is feeling.

He removes the pillow to reveal his pained and pale features. "I said Beel is close, and so is Belphie; it seems they are traveling together, so it is safe to say they have both been freed from the love potion."

"Then there is no time to waste," Lucifer declares, crossing his arms. "Double time Mammon. And Leviathan, please stay off the furniture; I'd hate to cause any more damage due to your carelessness."

The Avatar of Envy covers his face in embarrassment as he recalls his earlier interaction with you. And he understands pulling you into the pool with him could've been dangerous, even deadly. His head spins as he tries to think of all the ways he will try and make it up to you.

Mammon drops to a crouch and tears open the cabinet drawers with a start. His worried features brighten into a look of elation as he lunges forward suddenly. "Ah ha, I found 'em." he slides the little plate of sugar cookies out victoriously." That damn Chihuahua must've stashed ‘em here when we were going all crazy for Mc."

"What should we do with them?" Levi asks, "If we throw them away, Beel will just eat them out of the trash."

"We could burn 'em? Ya know? Toss 'em in the fireplace?" Mammon offers, turning his head to the grand fireplace. Enchanted flames dance eagerly within the confines of their stone hearth.

"And make the potion airborne?" Satan questions, narrowing his eyes at the second, and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Absolutely not. You are such an Idiot."

"Seriously Mammon, you do know that you don't have to choose between being pretty and being smart." Asmo quips, "But it would be a good idea to do at least one of them."

Mammon opens his mouth to make some kind of comeback but is interrupted as Lucifer snatches the plate of tainted sugar cookies from him. 

"I will create a temporary solution for these cookies until we have a safe method for disposing of them." He flicks his wrist, and a dark sphere of energy encases the plate as it disappears from view. Mammon lets out an involuntary shudder when he realizes that Lucifer could very well make him disappear like that whenever he feels like it. Maybe he should try and return those records of his he was going to pawn off.

Just as the last of the plate fades away, the Banquet door bursts open, and Beel steps into the room urgently, a napping Belpheghor clinging to his back like a koala.

The Avatar of Gluttony looks famished, there is a ferocious hunger in his eyes that seems to only be searching for sustenance. He doesn't even seem to notice his other brothers are in the room.

"I. Need. Food." he breathes, zeroing in on the full banquet table of treats. The mahogany legs seem to tremble under his hungry gaze as he grabs the nearest platter of sandwiches and begins shoveling them into his mouth. 

The room is silent as they watch Beel chow down on a second try of sandwiches. He even eats the little heart-shaped toothpicks that stick out of the top of the mini brioche rolls.

As the sixth-born reaches for another try, his features look much more pleasant. Lucifer clears his throat to get his attention.

"Glad to see you both have  returned to your usual selves." He says, "Hopefully, you didn't cause Mc too much trouble."

Beel's face takes on an expression of guilt as he lowers the barely conscious Belphegor onto an open chair. 

"I broke a wine bottle, but it's fine. Mc found me and convinced me not to go on a hike." The youngest brother from his seat. He hasn't opened his eyes yet. The pure exhaustion of ignoring his sin and running about the castle has hit him far worse than any symptom would've.

"And why do you look so guilty, Beelzebub?" Satan asks, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat.

"I didn't mean to, but they gave me a piggyback, and I think they overdid it." He says, casting his eyes to the floor. "I'm a lot stronger than they are; I could've really hurt them."

No one has it in them to give Beel a scolding. The kicked-puppy expression on his face says it all. 

"So all Mc has to do is find Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon?" Mammon says, letting out a sigh of relief. "That means this nightmare is almost over."

"While it is true Mc has done a great job finding everyone so far, the others are unpredictable," Lucifer says, crossing his arms. "I hope that they take their time and make sure they are not putting themselves at risk."

"Especially with Simeon," Levi adds with a shiver, "He’s final boss status for sure."

"He was super hot, not gonna lie." Asmo giggles, kicking his feet and tucking his hair behind his ear.

~

"Oh, come on, it's gotta be in here somewhere." Luke cries as he finishes searching through another stack of books with no luck. It's like the potion book that Solomon used earlier has vanished into thin air.

His little cherub cheeks are red, his hair is disheveled, and he thinks he has caught a head cold from breathing in all this dust.

"I need water." He murmurs weakly. His knees buckle as he drags himself over to the faucet so he can pour himself a quick drink.

He drinks greedily from his little paper cup, downing the cold water in one gulp and immediately reaching to refill it. This little water break does wonders for the Angel, and he takes a deep breath, ready to continue his quest to find the book and make an antidote for his friends. 

He sets his little cup down on the countertop to use later, and his eyes rest upon something that makes his heart want to break. 

An open recipe book

This cannot be happening…

Luke winces as he timidly lifts the corner of the book to read the cover. Ensure enough, it is the same book he has been searching for for hours.

Instead of being tucked away on some shelf or miscellaneous pile of books, Solomon never actually put this book away, it has been out on the counter in plain sight.

How is it possible that he didn't check here first?

The Angel can feel hot tears of humiliation pulling in his big eyes and he clenches his little fits together so hard he feels like he's about to break the skin.

But he can't cry. How could he?

Back at the castle, you must be subjected to some terrible horrors; he imagines you running through the dark halls of that spooky castle, getting chased until you are out of breath, and then captured by those demons with those creepy heart-shaped eyes. 

He flips through the book, reading with a speed that would make even Satan proud as he looks for an antidote. 

He finds a recipe and wastes no time pulling each ingredient out of Solomon's storage room. He may not know what half of this stuff does, but what he does know is that when all of the stuff comes together, it will create exactly what he needs to break the spell.

Luke begins mashing some herbs with a mortar and pestle, just the way Solomon taught him to do so. He cannot tell if it is the bitter scent of the herbs upsetting his stomach or his own worries.

If he manages to successfully make the antidote, will the others be mad at him for ruining the day?

What if Mc gets hurt? It would be all his fault.

He pours a bit of devil pine sap into the foggy mixture with a sigh. Whatever punishment he is given, he will accept with open arms.

He will do whatever it takes to make it up to you.

Barbatos~

Now you understand how Theseus felt inside of King Minos's labyrinth. All these dark, winding hallways and flickering shadows that just love to play tricks on you have your poor heart beating anxiously in your chest.

Technically, in Greek mythology terms, you have a one-up on Theseus since you have four Minotaurs to "defeat." 

A large cloud covers the moon, sending a shiver down your weary spine as you wonder who you will find next.

The Prince of Hell?

His Trusty Butler, who controls time itself?

The Cunning Human Sorcerer?

Or the Angel the others seem to be very afraid of?

Although you should be scared out of your wits, you are brimming with curiosity as you wonder how your loved ones have changed due to the Love Potions effects. 

Your tired feet drag you down another hallway. Like all the others, it is spotless, and every door is darkened and shut. You scan each one carefully, trying to find any sign someone has wandered through them today with little luck. 

The next thing you know, your steps are interrupted when you kick into something awkwardly and stumble forward, lurching toward the wall and grabbing onto it for support. 

Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself and wearily glance back at whatever it was that you just tripped over.

There, in the middle of the pristine carpet, lies a lone leather shoe. The tense muscles in your back stretch uncomfortably as you crouch down and pick up the obstacle. As you hold it in your hand, you cannot help but notice its style. It's nothing like the shoes you and Asmo see when window shopping down Majolish. It's clearly older but remarkably well-maintained. 

Its old leather is polished with an expert hand, and its dark untied laces sit unmarred by a single fray. These can only belong to Barbatos.

Come to think of it, his chambers are fairly close by. Is it possible that he lost his shoe on the way there?

In a castle as ginormous as this, leads are hard to find, so you and the shoe head off in search of its owner as you play out this little Demonic Cinderella Story.

Barbatos' room contains many dangers, so the fact that his door sits ajar makes your skin crawl. You push the door open gently with one hand and spot the demon resting atop his quilt. 

His legs hang off the mattress, and aside from the shoe currently in your hand, he is completely dressed. Seeing the usually pristine-looking Butler so out of sorts is unfamiliar. You know he often works himself past the point of exhaustion, but you have never seen him look so open, so unguarded.

Love Potion aside, you know he needs a little bit more rest. A gentle smile tugs at your lips as you start across the room and sit on the edge of the bed. Setting his shoe on the nightstand next to you. The mattress dips slightly, but he continues to sleep. His chest rises and falls steadily, and cute little puffs of air escape his open lips.

His cheeks are flushed a soft baby pink color as his body seems to shift magnetically closer to you. He may not be conscious, but he definitely is aware of your presence.

"Mmnnnm Mc," his sleep-addled voice murmurs as his hand stretches blindly across the mattress to brush yours. The minimal contact is just enough to stir him. His Green eyes blink open sleepily; you see your reflection in his heart-shaped pupils as he intertwines his fingers with yours.

In an instant, he gently tugs you into his chest. It's far warmer than it normally is as he settles you both deeper into the mattress. "Mc," he yawns fondly. "I was just dreaming about you. I knew you would come to see me." 

"I hope you don't mind me letting myself in," you say softly, using your unoccupied fingers to busy themselves with fixing his bedhead. "But I believe I found something of yours." You jerk your head toward the shoe you found earlier with a smile. 

"Oh, that troublesome thing," he chuckles, his lids growing heavier by the second. "Earlier, I just felt so fatigued I chose to simply kick it off."

"In the middle of the Hallway? That's unlike you."

"It's silly, but~" he yawns and leans into your touch. "I simply do not care for trivial things such as messes and responsibilities. All I need is you. Please come rest with me."

His words seem to form a lasso around your heart; it pulls you towards him instantly. "I suppose a few moments of rest wouldn't hurt." You chuckle, leaning back onto the mattress. Barbatos clings to you eagerly, snuggling into you for warmth. A look of pure contention lies on his face.

Butler's bed is remarkably comfortable. The mattress and quilt are stuffed with some kind of otherworldly feather. Simply laying down upon them is a decadence. You imagine that if you knew you had a bed as heavenly as this to return to at the end of the night, you would work as hard as he does to earn the pleasure.

All of your aches and pains seem to melt away in the butler's arms. With each breath he takes, he seems to bring you closer to him.

He can barely keep his eyes open. Seeing him in a state of exhaustion is fascinating. "You must've been exhausted," you say aloud. "You work way too hard, Barbatos."

"I'm a fool." he yawns. "I have wasted so much of my existence doing chores when all I should've been doing is laying here with you. This blissful feeling is incomparable. We should stay here forever."

"Forever is a long time," you murmur, toying with his gloved fingertips. "You may get tired of laying around all the time."

"Not if I'm with you," he yawns again. The dreamy lift in his voice kinda creeps you out, but the Butler is too enthralled by the spell to notice the shiver that crawls down your spine.

"Let's just lay here and watch the dust float around us as we bask in the pleasure of each other's warmth."

Okay…. That's it.

Although these uncharacteristic words may have escaped his drowsy mouth, that is not the real Barbatos speaking. He may need to rest more, but you know that you have to break this spell on him as soon as possible.

"That sounds amazing," you lie in a soft voice. "If we are to spend forever like this, can I at least have a kiss goodnight?"

The offer of a kiss is enough to get him to pry open his eyes. "Of course, you may. I apologize for not doing so earlier." His movements are slow and perhaps the most uncoordinated yet as he tries to scoot closer to you. Sitting up is a challenge for him, but when he finally succeeds in doing so, he can barely keep his head up. A silly smile rests on his face as he leans in to try and place a kiss on your lips, but thanks to the effects of the Potion, he almost completely misses your mouth, only managing to kiss the corner of your lips. 

Like Lucifer, it only takes a few seconds and the briefest contact of lips on the skin to break the spell. His eyes go wide, and his posture returns to perfect as he springs from his bed in alarm. 

"My goodness, Mc, what time is it?" he breathes, smoothing out a wrinkle from his quilt and fluffing the pillow anxiously. "I fear I have failed in my duties as a butler, how fares the celebration?"

You look at him nervously, worried that if you say the wrong thing, you'll send him into a heap of distress. He works too hard to plan these parties for them to end up the way they do. "Lucifer and his brothers are back in the banquet hall, recovering from the effects of the spell you were under. Apparently, only I can lift the effects, so I need to find Solomon, Simeon, and Diavolo." 

He nods solemnly, "I see, so the young master is still entranced. There is no time to waste if the Devildom were to see him in this…well…. State, It could cause quite the uproar." His cheeks flush a barely noticeable pink color as he recalls his earlier actions before clearing his throat. "The crown should not have to shoulder this sort of embarrassment; allow me to accompany you in retrieving him and the others."

"While I appreciate the offer, I'm afraid I'll have to refuse. Everyone is acting so unpredictably that I'd hate for anything to happen. I promise I have this handled."

His eyes flash with disappointment, but it quickly fades and a smile more genuine than his usual polite one shines at you reassuringly. He takes your hand and gently presses his lips to the back of it. "I understand, if that is your wish, I will do as you say. Please know that I believe in you wholeheartedly."

"Thank you, Barbatos," you say, taking in his slightly paler skin. The after-effects of the Potion must be hitting him about now. "I do have a favor I would like to ask you."

His eyes are full of wisdom and adoration as he looks at you with his usual round pupils. "Of course, what is your request? I would gladly do anything you ask of me."

You smile devilishly, "it would mean a lot to me if you would take some time and rest. You work far too hard, and I can tell that you aren't feeling your best."

He looks shocked, "but the mess."

"Can be taken care of later. But for now, please return to the banquet hall and do something good for yourself."

He takes a deep breath and relents. "If that is what you wish, I suppose I could partake in a little bit of what Asmodeus calls 'self-care.'"

"That's what I like to hear." You grin as he escorts you to the door. Just before you exit, you feel his presence behind you. The gesture is tender. He places a Soft kiss on the top of your head.

"Thank you for always caring about my well-being." He murmurs, "I pride myself in being good at many things, But tending to my own needs has never been one of them. It touches my heart that you continuously take the time to worry about me."

"And it makes me feel good to know that you allow me to care for you," you respond, wrapping your arms around the Butler; you feel him relax in your hold as he lets out a soft chuckle, wondering what this demon did to deserve your love.

Diavolo~

You may not be a world-class detective, but you have a hunch…

If Barbatos ended up returning to his bedroom after getting spelled, maybe someone found their way into Diavolo's quarters. 

Surely, someone would want to enjoy the amenities the Prince of Hell's bedroom has to offer, especially if they aren't thinking the clearest at the moment. 

You haven't even reached his massive double doors when your suspicions are confirmed. The shuffles of heavy footsteps seem to pace back and forth anxiously. You can tell from the light flickering under the door frame that someone is standing just on the other side of the darkened oak doors. 

You hold your breath and curiously press your ear against the wood to try and make out who is waiting for you. But your cheek had barely brushed the surface of the wood when the doors (that may not have been completely shut) swings open, and you tumble forward into the Prince's bedroom, letting loose a surprised screech that surely would put a banshee to shame. 

Your limbs are sprawled across the deep red carpet when you make eye contact with the heart-shaped pupils of none other than Lord Diavolo himself. Upon seeing you on the ground, his features twist and worry, and in an instant, he strives over to you.

"MC, you poor thing." he looks so concerned for your well-being that the mighty demon trembles as he looks you over. "Are you hurt?"

"Not at all," you laugh, placing your hands on either side of your body to try and hoist yourself up to a less humiliating seated position but he stops you hurriedly.

"Please, don't move." he pleads, lowering his hand as if he were speaking to an injured animal. "I need to check you for injuries. I once read that humans who are injured can enter a state of shock." His golden gaze scans you worriedly, and you feel your skin growing warm from the attention.

"Dia, it was just a little fall," you say, trying your best to comfort the Prince. "I promise I'm unharmed."

"Are you sure?" he breathes. You may have been the one to take a tumble, but he is the one who looks in pain. His arms are painfully tense at his sides, as if he needs to hold you close, but the potions hold on him is quite different. Instead of smothering you with affection like the others, it seems that he is lovingly devoted to your well-being.

"I promise everything is fine," you say, once again, reassuring the frazzled noble and allow him to help you to your feet. His touch is much warmer than normal, but he handles you as if you are made of glass. 

"I see, I am relieved you were not injured." he says seriously, "now tell me, what can I do to assist you?"

"Assist me?" You parrot, unsure of what he means by those words.

"Yes, I wish to assist you in whatever it is you ask of me." He says seriously. His posture is rigid, almost as if he is waiting for something to do. "What have you been doing?"

"Oh, I've just been walking around, you know, trying to find everybody. That's pretty much been my day so far." You chuckle.

When his eyes widen an alarm, you realize that maybe you shouldn't have told him that. in an instant, he scoops you into his arms. "you have been walking for hours? Please, you have been doing too much lately, allow me to take care of you so you can relieve your body of any stress it may be feeling."

He carries you over to his bed and text you gingerly underneath the covers. His brow is furrowed as he fusses over the wrinkles. his voice is too soft for you to make out what he is saying, but you think it's something about how he needs to care for you.

"Diavolo, please, I promise I'm fine. Could you please just sit down with me for a moment." You say, giving him a little pout. "I feel like I haven't gotten to see you all day."

"I'll be just a moment My Love; your voice sounds a little weak; have you had water today? Humans don't drink nearly enough water as they should, and that includes you."

Shit…

Potion or not he's got you there. 

You sit back and watch as he stumbles across the room to pour you a cool glass of water. His uncoordinated movements must be due to the potion's effects. As he walks back, he splashes a few drops of water onto the ground but is too focused on you to care about the mess he made.

"Here, drink Love." he says, holding the edge of the half-filled glass to your lips. As you drink, he smiles, feeling accomplished. The water is magically cool and you taste its slight citrus flavor as you gulp it down.

When you finish your glass, he takes it from you and sets it down on the nightstand, you could've done that yourself, but he seems to be enjoying waiting on you like your own personal butler. But as nice as it is to be fussed over sometimes, you hate how worried he is over the smallest things. 

You miss the real him.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asks, his little heart eyes shining in admiration as he sits on the edge of the bed. 

"Actually, there is something…" you say in the most innocent voice you can muster.

"Of course, whatever it is you want, I will get it to you." he says instantly; there is a hunger in his expression that yearns for a request to leave your cute little mouth.

"Could I please have a kiss?"

"Oh, of course." he says quickly, his eagerness betrays him as he cups your face tenderly "I apologize for my neglectful behavior. It would be my pleasure to steal away your breath."

And that he does. He goes in softly as if he is afraid of his own strength, but his fear leaves him quickly as he comes to his senses, allowing you to drown in the slight honey taste of his lips. The real him knows that you can handle a steamy make-out session or two.

He pulls away and looks remarkably well. His loud laughter fills the room as he pulls you to his chest in a firm hug. "Well, that was certainly an interesting feeling, I apologize if my behavior unsettled you earlier."

Now that he is back to his usual self, you find yourself relaxing immensely. "I am glad you're back to normal, although I did appreciate you taking care of me."

Although his skin doesn't flush in embarrassment you can tell from the way he clears his throat you have flustered him. "Well, if I am being honest, my behavior wasn't completely due to the." he pauses and looks at you questioningly. "spell? 

"Love Potion."

"Ahh I see." he smiles knowingly. "I thought so. Anyways there has always been a part of me that has wanted to be seen by you as someone who can take care of you."

"But you do take care of me," you say, placing your hand on top of his. "You do so much for me and make me feel so loved."

"I just feel that I only express my Love for you with grandiose gestures. It's wonderful to show everyone just how much I care for you, but I wish that I could do more of the little things the others do." he frowns "There has always been a part of me that envy's the way the others get to do the little things for you. Such as cooking you your favorite meal from the human world or stopping by the market to pick you up something you forgot to cross from your shopping list. I think that this little desire of mine was twisted beyond recognition when I consumed that love potion earlier. And I apologize If I caused you any trouble."

"It is no trouble at all. "You say suddenly, your heart swelling with admiration and a newfound perspective into the mind and heart of the Prince.  "Dia, I love you, and I think you express yourself wonderfully. We may not get to spend as much time together as we wish, but you do plenty for me in those little moments too. The grass isn't always greener on the other side and I'm sure the others envy you as well. After all, you are pretty darn wonderful."

His eyes light up as he absorbs your words; neither of you was anticipating a heart-to-heart today, but there it was. Looking much recovered, he smiles and has a devilish look in his eyes. "Speaking of the others, how many of us have you broken the spell on so far?"

"all except Solomon and Simeon," you reply. "the others are waiting in the banquet hall and recovering from some negative side effects. Are you feeling alright?"

"I am perfectly well. It's strange, but I don't feel fatigued at all. Perhaps this will be the perfect opportunity to observe the others. I recall how Lucifer, in particular, was acting earlier, and I would very much love to tease him about it. Barbatos too."

Laughter spills from your lips until it brings tears to your eyes. "That is all on you, if you wish to tease them I won't stop you but you should know that my lips are sealed. Barbatos and Lucifer can be scary when they are mad, they may decide to get revenge."

In response to your lack of gossip, Diavolo gives you a rather un-princely pout. "I suppose you're right, I must do this part myself. But before I go, will you please indulge me and allow me to kiss you once more?"

His request makes you giggle as your heart flutters. Although you still have a job to do, you find yourself nodding eagerly. A pleased smirk appears on his honey-tasting lips as he strides closer and closer to you. After all, you could never say no to the Prince?

Solomon~

'Two to go! Two to go!  Two to go! Let's go!'

You chant this cheerful little mantra softly under your breath as you walk through the halls with a pep in your step. Soon, you will be able to go to the banquet hall, play some party games, and eat some of Barbatos' amazing cooking.

Although today isn't exactly what you hoped it would be, this twisted little scavenger hunt is one you will never forget.

You find yourself down one of the narrower hallways the servants use. Unlike the room meant for entertaining noble demons of all shapes and sizes, these doors are much smaller and closer together. Each one houses items like extra china, party decorations, and cleaning supplies. You recall coming down here with Barbados a few times to grab supplies for one of Diavolo's spur-of-the-moment celebrations.

Although it's faint, you hear a sound that seems to come from somewhere behind you. You spin on a dime and squint your eyes to try and see better, but no one is there.

Curiously you keep your steps light so as to not make a sound and walk past a lonely looking supply closet. You hear the unstable sound of wood against stone and lightly grab the handle. taking a deep breath for courage, you twist the cold metal handle and throw it open. 

Solomon sits cross-legged on the ground next to some fallen broom handles. His snow-white hair is unruly, as if he had worriedly ran his hands through it over and over again. Beneath his heavy red blush, his fair skin seems paler than normal as he looks at you, but quickly becomes too shy and covers his eyes before you can see the hearts. 

"Sol, what are you doing in here all by yourself?" You ask gently, sweeping aside the hand the wooden handles that had fallen on top of him. 

"H-hiding," he murmurs, tucking his knees to his chest. 

"Who are you hiding from Sol?"

His response is so soft that if you didn't have all of your attention focused on the man cowering in front of you, you would've missed it. "I'm hiding from you…"

Your heart sinks at his words, and your weary head begins to spin with doubt. What if the feelings you have for him are not reciprocated to the degree required to break the spell? What if he is not truly in love with you? Is there someone else whose image spills from his heart and floods his mind?

All these questions that dizzy your mind compel you to your eloquent response. "Oh. I see." You try your best to hide your emotional turmoil, but you can't help it. You frown and can't bring yourself to look at him. "Is there someone else you want to see instead?"

His eyes go wide, and he leans toward you frantically. If anything, he looks offended that you would even ask that. "No, no, no. I don't want to see anyone else."

"Then why were you hiding from me then?" you ask, crossing your arms. 

He casts his eyes to the ground, "I-I just don't deserve to see you right now, not after what I have done." 

This is not the Solomon you are used to. The handsome and cunning sorcerer who loves to make your heart race has been tucked away. The man in front of you seems to be aware that he is partially responsible for the current predicament you are in. But the Potion seems to be making him more than a bit timid. You want to make him feel at least a little bit better about himself before you break the spell, but you have to do it carefully. 

"Sol, I could never hate you," you say, reaching your hand out to help your fellow human to their feet, but he stubbornly shakes his head and cowers away from you.

"C-can't," he whispers, shaking his head. "I can't do it."

"Sol? What can't you do?" you ask gently. You feel your face scrunching up in confusion as you couch down to his eye level and try to make him look at you. 

"I-if I touch you or say your name, I'll go all blank and embarrass myself in front of you, and you'll hate me forever."

"Hate you?" you repeat those words softly. "Solomon, why would I ever hate you? I love you."

Those three little words are tempting enough to compel the human to look at you. Finally, you get a glimpse of those heart shaped pupils that have adjourned everyone else so far, but it breaks your heart to see that his eyes are full of tears. 

"B-because I ruined your day…again. I swear it was an accident. I never thought Luke would use a bowl from my lab, but he did, and now all I know is that you're gonna hate me forever, and it breaks my heart because I love you so so so so much," his wails despair bounce off the walls of the tiny closet.

It's strange to see the usually wise and confident sorcerer reduce to an ashamed, blubbering mess, but you can't take it anymore. You launch yourself into his arms and hold him as tight as you can.

He leans into your touch and tightens his grip as if you're about to turn into smoke and disappear. "It's not your fault." you murmur pulling one of your hands free from his hold to gently rub comforting circles into his back. "It's actually not that bad."

"It's not?" he sniffles, meeting your gaze.

"Not at all," you say brightly. "I have found almost everyone and was able to break the spell that was on them. Almost everyone is back in the banquet hall resting up. If anything, you made today unintentionally more memorable. I got to explore more of the castle, spend some time with everyone one-on-one, and got to see some sides of everyone I didn't know existed."

"Is that true?" he asks, visibly relaxing amongst the brooms and buckets. When you nod, he looks like he's about to go over the moon. For the first time since you've seen him, he gives you a little lovesick grin.

His smile warms your heart and eases your conscience, which means it's time to get down to business. "Hey Sol, would it be all right if I gave you a kiss?"

The human opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out; as his brain tries to spill out a response, you wait patiently, enjoying the fact that, for once, you are the one who renders him speechless and not the other way around. Eventually, he decides that nodding would suffice as an appropriate answer, and you give him a little peck. He's already so overwhelmed you wouldn't want to do too much.

Pulling back, you watch his handsome features as he regains his sense of self. After a moment, he blinks away the heart in his eyes and is a bit confused as to why he has tracks running down his face.

"Oh my. Was I crying?" he asks; the look on your face tells all, and he looks a bit embarrassed. "I apologize Mc, I never would want you to see me in such a state of vulnerability, but I fear that this is my punishment for the current predicament we find ourselves in."

He is taking far too much blame, and being one who often finds themselves in an overly apologetic position, you feel for him. "I know you Solomon." You say, "This wasn't your fault, but I know that you want to take more than your fair share of the blame out of guilt. At this point, the only thing we can do is not let this little accident ruin our day and move on."

He smiles, spurred by your kind words. "Once again, you're right. Sometimes, I feel that you are the teacher and I am your student. I find myself learning much about myself in your presence."

"Hmmm, is that all you think of our relationship?" you ask, looking at him coyly. "Student and Teacher?"

Your question brings a smirk to the cunning sorcerer's lips as he grabs your chin, tilting it upwards and leaning in close. His breath fans your skin as his lips ghost over yours. You pout, waiting for his kiss to consume you, but it never comes. "As much as I wish to have you all to myself, there is more work to be done. Isn't there Mc?"

"Work?" you ask, too entranced by the Sorcerer's proximity to think clearly, and you can tell by his wicked smirk that he is loving it. "Oh, right. I have to find Simeon."

At the mention of the lone cursed party guest, you see his posture go rigid. "Is Simeon all you have left?"

"That's right," you should feel proud of yourself, but it's hard to do so when you see the worry in the man's eyes. 

"Please be careful, Mc," he warns. "The Potion that I created has never been tested on Angel's before. Although the details are foggy, I recall the drastic change in Simeon's behavior. It could be possible that the Potion had a stronger effect on him than the others."

Your stomach lurches as you take in his grave expression. "So what are you saying?"

"What I am saying is that a kiss may not be enough to cancel out the effects of the potion on Simeon."

Tagging: In the comments because there were wayyy to many of you! Thank you so much!!!

[chvoswxtch]

desire

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

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

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

word count: 8.1k

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

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

»»———　　———««

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t ask.”

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

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

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

“Hey, I give you answers.”

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

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

“You never read my personnel file?”

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

“Homeland wouldn’t let me have it.”

“And you let that stop you?”

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know what you mean.”

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

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

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart.”

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

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

“I didn’t take you as a rosé guy.”

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

“What? This is good shit.”

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

“Was this your wife’s favorite?”

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

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

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

“She uh…she liked white wine.”

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

“My kinda woman. What was her favorite?”

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

“Pinot Grigio.”

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

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

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

“She woulda liked you.”

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

“My mom would’ve annoyed you.”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I forget sometimes.”

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

“Forget what?”

“That she’s gone.”

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

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

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

“Do you forget too?”

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

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

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

“Frank?”

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

“What was her name?”

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

“Maria.”

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

“Maria. Is this her recipe?”

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

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

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

“Well then, to Maria.”

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

“To Maria.”

»»———　　———««

“You’re fired.”

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

“What? Why?”

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

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

“You can’t fire me.”

“And why not?”

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

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

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

“I never thanked you.”

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

“For what?”

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

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

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

“It’s my job-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

“Because you’re mine to protect.”

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

“I am?”

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

“You’re goddamn right.”

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

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

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

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

Desire.

“I don’t wanna go back.”

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

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

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

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

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

“This alright?”

“Yes.”

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

“Sweetheart, there ain’t no rush.”

“Frank, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doesn’t this feel right?”

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

“Yeah…yeah it does.”

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

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

“Frank…”

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

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, sweetheart.”

“Oh my God…Frank-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please…please…”

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

“Frank…Frank…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Frank?”

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

“M’here.”

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

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

[radio-fmm]

One piece men react to your new haircut

ft. Law, Zoro and Sanji

fluff + gn reader with long hair

Masterlist

LAW

“Y/n-ya” Laws muffled voice ringed in your ears from outside your dorm, a tad softer tone coloring his words than he would usually use, a tone that always accompanied your name after it

He was met with silence

You had skipped breakfast, first red flag, and when you didn’t showed up for the monthly meeting at his office he knew something was up, he just didn’t know exactly what could be

“Go away” the doctors eyebrows curled in confusion, you sounded upset 

“Can you open the door please?”

“No”

Laws mind ran wild trying to think of a reason for your behavior changing one day to another, hiding away in your dorm

“Shambles”

The tall man appears in front of your door as he finds you underneath your bedsheets curled in a ball. Obviously what his mind zeroed in to immediately was that you may be feeling unwell, but as the tiniest softest sob left your mouth he realized it was a different kind of unwell he had not anticipated 

Feeling extremely unprepared, he sits at the end of your bed, immediately making you squirm and hide further in your bed

“Don’t look at me, I'm horrendous!” The captain cannot stop the snickers that scapes his mouth at your statement 

“Don’t be ridiculous” In a swift move Law removes the sheets, revealing your face hiding behind your hands

He noticed right away what you were referring to as apparently ‘horrendous’. Your locks were cut short too way above your shoulders, at the height of the frame of your face. He admires the new style, a smile tugging at his lips before he removes your hands from your regretful face, your eyes scan his expression in total terror

“I thought I could do it myself” a whisper could be heard louder than the words leaving you as you melt at Laws sweet touch “I look so bad”

Law runs his finger through your soft short strands before stroking your cheek “You look just fine y/n-ya… it quite suits you” 

Your face turns from his grasp but your Captain is quick to catch you “You’re gorgeous any day, any time, with long or short hair” Doe eyes met his as if you were relieved at his praise

“Promise?”

“Promise”

Your short hair was quick to become Laws favorite look on you

ZORO

“Don’t move” Zoro's tongue peeks at the side of his lips as he finds the perfect angle to cut your soft long strands of hair

“If you cut me in half…”

“Quit complaining I haven’t even started” He watches as your hands show him what length to cut for the third time, the swordsman takes a deep breath. A swift move from his strong arms followed by the sound of a cut near your ears is the last thing that fills your senses before a weight is lifted from your shoulders. Your eyes peek at the floor, a sea of your now old hair beneath you

“Perfect” you hear Zoro mutter, you run your hand through your hair, a grimace appearing on your face

"It's not straight” you sigh, defeated 

“What are you talking about?” Zoro appears in your field of vision and scans the way your hair sits at the sides of your frame, before you can even complain about it, another cut is heard disrupting the peace of The Sunny. 

Instantly you run to the bathroom mirror, it’s not perfect per se´, but he got the exact length you wanted to. You were a short hair kind of a person your whole life, but when you had started to sail through the sea, embarking alongside the future king of the pirates, it was hard to keep up a neat cut like the one you liked, so you resorted to a more easy way out. Another sigh escapes you, a different one this time, this one is a content one. You smile as you pose before the mirror, which reflects another figure outside the bathroom watching you intently

“Thank you Zoro” you offer him the softest and most thankful smile through your reflection, the swordsman shrugs, trying not to make a big deal out of it, truth was he was more than glad to help you, in anything you may need, it made him feel important. His eyes take on the new view of your appearance once more, his heart thrumbing in his ears and a blush sitting on his cheeks, he didn't know how you managed to look even more breathtaking 

“No problem” 

You wink at him at you may have broke him, the swordsman stays frozen in place as you run to show Nami and Robin your new look 

SANJI

The cook stays in a trance as he watches you braid your long beautiful locks in a fish braid before bed, as you tie it you watch your reflection for a while, a hesitant look appearing making your nose scrunch, the antic making his heart jump in his chest. Sanji bites his tongue, wanting to comment on this action, curious as to what could possibly be bothering you, because last time he checked, your reflection was nothing to frown about. 

"What's wrong, my love?" He asks ever so gently, you stay silent before walking to your shared bed, sighing as you lay beside him

“I want to cut my hair, it’s really hard work keeping it off my face, and it takes ages to wash and style” another frown sits on your lips as your eyes advert from his face

The reality was that you were planning on cutting your hair for a while now, but the thought of Sanji disliking your new look haunted you, but you were not gonna admit that to him

One of his delicate hands reach for your braid, then travel upwards to cup your face, he smiles in pure adoration pulling at your heart strings in the most intimate melody

“I know whatever you do to your hair is gonna look smashing” a dark red creeps from your neck and warms up your face at the blonde’s touch

After Sanji’s sweet reassurance, you missed no time and that morning reached for the scissors in your drawer and just went for it. As half your braid fell to the floor you felt the biggest weight being lift from your shoulders, your locks dancing free with the ocean’s breeze

The cook walked outside the kitchen in the middle of his breakfast prep for a smoke, but his cigarette hit the floor the instant he spotted you leaning on the railing of The Sunny, he was left stunted, heart eyes following your beautiful silhouette as he rushed your way

“Stunning” his hands immediately landing on your strands, brushing them slowly and lovingly

“You were right” you smiled at him content written all over your face

“Of course I was darling, I know an angel when I see one”

Luffy’s whines of annoyance could be heard all over the ship when he found his plate empty in the kitchen and Sanji nowhere to be found, he just had to stay to admire you all morning, it was a must 

[pascalswift]

BURNING DESIRE

STEPDAD!JOEL x F!READER

SUMMARY : after all Joel did marry your mother, but she was oblivious to the motive behind it. Not silly love, it’s was you. It was always you, His sweet little stepdaughter.

WARNINGS : age gap (reader is early 20’s Joel’s late 30’s), dark!joel, perv!joel, step-cest, oral (f receiving), boob play, pet names, fingering, overstimulation, daddy kink, manhandling, mutual pinning, established relationship, (This is Short, sorry my loves )

JOEL MILLER WASN’T A EVIL PERSON, NO. HE WAS JUST CALCULATED. A very smart man, seemingly very stoic but once you break past the multi layered concrete you’d find someone that you’d never want to leave. Maybe that’s what enthralled your mother to jump into marriage so quickly, she truly believed he was deeply in love with her and she was he. She believed that she just happened to meet a professor at your college whom was single and yearning for the domestic things in life, but she was so utterly wrong.

To Joel miller, well he had found an in. One that allowed him full access to you, free to stare, free to do whatever he imagined without having to worry about a college or a student noticing the way he seemed to linger on you. After all, it was no accident that day when he and your mom “crashed” into each other.

So here he was now, arms crossed over his chest, Dress shirt screaming at the push from his large arms. The older man staring sternly at you as you sat on your bed promptly ignoring him. “I told your mother we’d meet her there.” Joel persisted and you huffed rubbing the heel of your palm over your eyes.

Your mother wasn’t your favorite person, she was money hungry, and self absorbed. She tried to claim she loved you, even more attempting to smother you after your father desperates this life a few years ago but time after time her true colors would peer through the blinds. So sitting at a dinner with her and her husband wasn’t something you’d like, especially if your step fathers brother/business partner was gonna be there. Your mother seemed to love his company…

Joel wasn’t dull he knew his wife likes his brother. But he also knew his brother wasn’t like that.

“Why can’t I just stay here? Tommy’s gonna be there and he’s good company.” You shrugged and Joel’s jaw clenched as he dropped his arms. “But I want ya’ there sweetheart.” Your heart raced as he walked closer to you, doe eyes looking up at him as his rough hand gripped your jaw angling your face upwards. “You just want attention huh?” Joel cooed before he bent down pressing his lips against your plush ones.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You mumbled as Joel pulled away, his brows raising as he crouched in front of you. He tossed the sheet off your legs angling your legs to the side of the bed, Your knees level with his neck. He tilted his head placing his hands on your knees as you were only in a pair of white cotton shorts with a tiny pink flower in the front center right under your belly button, and a plain pink tank top. He eyed the way your nipples imprinted the fabric of your thin tank top.

“Y’know what I mean baby.” Joel stated, his voice a bit lower. “If ya didn’t you wouldn’t be reactin’ like you are.” His hand slid up grazing your clothes nipple and you sucked in a breath. “If I give you somethin’ you promise you’ll get dressed after?” He was smirking, because he knew how to make you comply. You demeanor had changed from refusing to go to nodding with vigor whilst looking at your step-father.

His large rough hands slid up your thighs leaving goosebumps in its wake as his hands reached your shorts. He stood up hands grasping your waist as you tossed you further up the bed, a light giggle escaping your lips that made him smile as he climbed between your legs. Your heart rate was through the rough as he pulled your shorts and panties down in one go tossing them somewhere around the room.

He watched as your chest heaved and he yanked your tank top down letting your breast spring free and he groaned as he ground his hips into the bed to relieve some pressure. He leaned up taking a nipple into his mouth and your head lulled back with a whimper that turned into a light moan when his teeth grazed it. He pulled away pinching your other nipple before he lowered himself between your legs. Groaning at the mess of slick in your folds.

“Baby’s already wet f’me.” You nodded as he kissed your inner thighs, so close to wear you want him. “Word’s.” Joel muttered biting your inner thigh before soothing it with his tongue. “Just f’you daddy.” It escaped your lips and Joel nearly moaned at the way you said it, his hips moved on the mattress getting some relief as he finally flattened his tongue and licked a thick harsh stripe up to your clit.

You hands pulled at his hair as you moaned. Joel had quickly lost himself between your legs, it was supposed to be a little treat but it quickly just became a frenzy. His tongue dipping into your tight hole as You writhed. His arms were locked under your thigh pushing your stomach down not giving you much room to move. “s’good- mmgh”

Joel sucked your bundle of nerves harshly before, letting his tongue trace it before his hang slipped lower and his thumb pressed on your clit pulling up lightly, watching as you held onto your breast absentmindedly pinching and pulling at your nipples, before he returning to sucking and you felt tears brim your eyes as your abdomen felt hot. “D-daddy.” You whined as his other hang slid up between your boobs and both of your hands grabbed onto his larger one.

“I know baby, your bein’ so good f’daddy.” He mumbled as he used the pad of his tongue to lick down towards your weeping hole. His free hand that you were holding coming down as he poked at it with his index finger. Your hips jerked and you whimpered. “Gotta get you ready for later princess, ya’ want that hm?” You nodded eagerly but moaned loudly when you felt his thick finger enter inside you. Joel himself moaning at how warm and tight your walls were, barley just accepting his one finger he could only image what his cock would feel like inside of you.

He was so tempted to just fuck you after this but he didn’t wanna raise any flags. His finger pumped in and out of you and he already felt the way you clenched down on his one finger, your cries only spurring him on. Without warning he pushed his middle finger inside of your hole that was pouring arousal. The stretch was a sweet burn but quickly became just sweet as Joel’s mouth went back on your clit and his fingers pumped deeply inside of you.

He curled his fingers upward and you let out a particularly loud moan as the coil tightened in your stomach and heat slowly started to build up. “P-please- mgh. Daddy I’m g-“ Joel only sped up watching as your face contorted into pleasure. Mouth open with harsh breaths and brows furrowed. He curled his fingers up and sucked on your bundle of nerves watching as your orgasm hit you.

As he fucked you through your orgasm you were sure you blacked out for a minute. The pleasure washed over your body making your head push further into your pillow as you babbled incoherently. When you finally came down from jumping multiple feet in the air you felt Joel’s mouth still on your clit, his fingers still inside of you and your thighs attempted to close. Only to be cut short by his strength. “Daddy s’to much- m-“ you were unable to form a coherent sentence as Joel kept going, seemingly In a trance.

Tears started to fall down your cheeks as you yanked on his hair attempting to push him back but not outwardly telling him to stop, the pleasure being to enjoyable. “Gimmie one more baby.” His voice was raspy as he lifted his head only for a second before returning back to his place between your thighs pulling his fingers from your slick full hole. His fingers covered in your arousal as he smeared it over your clit, hearing your whimper of emptiness.

His hand slid up your neck and his finger tapped your bottom lip letting you taste yourself while he used his tongue to make you cum again.

Before you reached dinner you had already came three times, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle later.

thanks for reading <333

if you wanna be tagged just lmk and message me with requests I’m happy to write mostly everything <33

[cripplecharacters]

Hi, I have some questions regarding confusion over a certain topic. First off, I have a character with a severe scarring on the upper right side of their body. I've heard in some tumblr ppsts that such appearance shouldn't be fetished. Then I stumbled across some posts, mentioning how the character can be described as 'pretty with it'.

For sure, I'm trying my best to normalize the looks. Because I have a love interest set up for them and while they don't mind the looks, I feel confused on how to convey their appreciation for the character's looks even with the scarring. They like the character as they are and stuff.

Sorry if this is a lot, I tend to get confused on how to handle such scenarios. And this sort of varying opinions is making me go '???'.

It's okay if you take your time to answer! Have a good day ahead of ya!

Hi!

"Fetishization of a disability" and "thinking that a disabled person is pretty" are two very different things. Despite the somewhat similar sound, they're not connected by much.

In the context of scars, fetishization would be what I would call the "Zuko situation" (yes, I love ATLA as much as the next guy, let me explain) - the scar isn't really a scar, it's more of a, I don't know, make-up? It's just the color that changes, it's all sharp edges and intricate shapes, the facial structure stays the exact same. There's no physical symptoms. Essentially, it's permanent body paint.

It fetishizes a disability by making it inaccurate, sometimes almost mystical. You don't see anyone fetishizing how real people with facial burns look like because they only like the idea of it. They don't care for us; they don't care for Face Equality or why we are offended by "villain with scar #32482". It's just a fun splotch of color to add to your OC when you're out of ideas.

Another aspect of fetishization is the "a scar is the worst thing in the whole world", the tragedy porn. It's using a disability for cheap drama. Again; it's inaccurate and exploitative. I don't see writers excited to depict my "coming to terms with my facial difference as a teenager, and eventually being proud of it" experience because where's the shock value and pity points? Fetishization, again, is about liking the idea of it, not the real thing.

Describing your character as beautiful, well, isn't any of that.

The point that I tried to make on that post was that a scar is often considered inherently ugly. That it's a stain on someone's beauty, that it would be better if it wasn't there.

"Brown beautiful eyes, thick facial hair, strong cheekbones - he managed to be irresistibly handsome even with that nasty scar going across his nose."

This, well, sucks. It's as if the character's beauty and their disability are contradictory forces that have to fight each other. But in reality, scars and any other visible disabilities are neutral. If the character is pretty, their scar is pretty too. It's a part of them, so how could it not be?

"She was a cute girl; her pastel pink, thinly braided hair framed her face, defying gravity by curling towards her mouth. The burned skin on her lips shifted as she smiled, revealing a tooth gap. She played with her equally pink 'white' cane, holding it between the two fingers she had on her right hand, bopping it against the ground to the rhythm of the song."

This, on the other hand, just states her disability as a part of her person. It's nothing weird or shocking, she's pretty, has a burn on her face, she's blind, she's missing some fingers, she's enjoying the music - it's almost boring when compared to the usual "scar introduction". There's no "even with her horribly burnt face", no "if only she wasn't scarred she would be beautiful", no "poor thing, lost her fingers in a horrific fire" - instead, she is beautiful, and she has scars, and she sure is having fun. That's it.

This is my best shot at explaining the difference between "fetishization" and "yeah they're pretty :-)" ft. my questionable writing - I hope this makes sense.

I definitely took my time to answer, sorry about that. Thank you for your ask!

mod Sasza

[prentissluvr]

now you know — sam winchester

cw : gn!awkward!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, canon typical violence and monsters, near drowning experience, poor editing as usual, 6.8K words. part two of makes you wonder.

summary : you become more entangled in "agent" sam's case when you come across the monster he seeks. pronunciation guide (using scottish gaelic) : each-uishge — yahk-oosh-ga. [ disclaimer, i found this on the internet! i’m not scottish nor do i speak scottish gaelic, so correct me if i'm wrong ! ]

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

the bar isn’t your go-to spot after work, mostly because that means you have to talk to people for some reason or another, but you’re feeling good tonight. good, and also still questioning your entire worldview so you figure it’s a good time as any to get a drink.

you’re halfway through your drink, eyes downcast and tracking the details of the table’s wood, when a hand on the back of the chair across from you snags your attention. you look up, slightly startled by the sudden appearance of a stranger. the first thing you notice is how beautiful he is. his rich, lightly curled dark brown hair and finely sculpted features are the kind of handsome that resemble a classic greco-roman kind of beauty.

his unrealistically good looks and charming scottish accent as he asks, “would you mind if i sit here?” almost disarm you completely before you remember that means you’ll have to talk to him. plus, you have a date to schedule with your mysterious agent sam.

“well, i’m headed home soon, so i guess that’s alright,” you say, trying to immediately display your disinterest without flat out rejecting him. when he slides into the chair with a smile that teeters between sleezy and charming, you wish you’d just said no.

“maybe i can change your mind,” he drawls, and you have to hold back from physically cringing. you now desperately want him to go, but don’t know how to get him to politely after having made the mistake letting him sit. “let me buy you another drink,” he offers.

you shake your head. “no, that’s– that’s not really very necessary. this is enough for me,” you refuse, motioning to your half-empty glass.

“oh, come darlin’! a free drink might not be necessary, but it surely’s a nicety, don’t ya think?” he raises a thick, neatly groomed eyebrow at you, making an unfortunately successful attempt at a handsome, flirty look. 

for once, you hope that your smile looks just as pained and awkward as it feels. “it’s a kind offer, i just, you know, don’t want another drink, so… that’s okay.”

he lifts his hands a little to signal surrender. “your loss then, love.” as he searches for some other flirty quip that might persuade you better, he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, and if you weren’t paying close attention in that exact moment, you would’ve completely missed the sprinkle of sand that falls from his hair and into his lap at the movement. you inhale sharply, suddenly afraid.

you try to sound casual when you pull a classic, “you know, i should really get going. i have an early morning tomorrow.” gathering your stuff up into your arms, you stand and try to convince yourself that you’re seeing things and that even if there was sand in his hair, it was just a coincidence. “have a nice night!”

then, as you spare him one last glance, he tilts his head when he bids you a flirtatious goodbye. “hope to see you here again,” he grins and a few more grains of sand fall to his shoulder, it’s light color stark against the dark fabric of his button up shirt. you try to stay unreadable, but your gaze follows the sand as it falls and his eyes follow yours to his shoulder. he brushes the dirt off and a dangerous look crosses his face. quite frankly, the look terrifies you, so you don’t waste a second to spin on your heel and rush out of the building towards your parked car.

the moment your back is turned, you’re digging around your bag until you find sam’s business card. with shaky hands and hurried feet, you punch the phone number into your phone and hold it to your ear, silently begging for him to pick up as you exit the building and the cool air of the night hits you.

“hello?” comes the newly familiar voice of sam through the phone speaker.

“sam! hi, it’s me, from the museum. you know, earlier today,” you think your voice may have come out a little panicked.

“yeah, yeah, of course,” he answers, voice please at first, then turning more serious, “good to hear from you, is everything alright? it’s sort of late.” he seems to have picked up on the scared edge to your voice. 

“i, um, god, i’m about to sound a little bit insane, but i’m just gonna say it. are you a real fbi agent? if yes, that’s great and i’m probably just really paranoid and making things up, if not, can i say something sort of crazy because i think that you might actually believe me? you know, if you’re, uh– not actually an fbi agent who thinks that totally normal reasons can explain those deaths you’re investigating?” you ramble, stumbling awkwardly through your words and feeling like a complete fool. there’s a moment of silence where you curse the fact that you had to park so far away, because you just want to be safely tucked into your car and headed home. the thought that sam thinks you’re totally off your rocker crosses your mind.

but sam’s sigh on the other line sounds almost relieved, and he answers. “i’m not– not an fbi agent. and trust me, whatever you could say that you might think is crazy, is probably nothing compared to some of the shit i’ve seen, so you can say whatever it is. i promise i won’t think you’re crazy.”

“okay,” you say breathlessly as your vague suspicions are confirmed. then you let it just tumble from your lips. “i think that the each-uisge is real and that i just met it and–” you cut yourself off when you hear something behind you. you’ve been so focused on sam that you haven’t been paying enough attention to anything else, and when you whip your head around, you see the man from the bar following you from a bit of a distance. you draw in a sharp breath of fear.

“shit,” sam curses, “where? you gotta get away from it, meet me at the–,” he instructs quickly.

you cut him off, real panic entering your voice as you pick up your speed, almost at a run. “fuck, sam, he’s coming for me, i think– i– i don’t know. but he had sand in his hair and he saw me looking at it and he’s following me and i’m almost to my car,” you ramble, glancing over your shoulder. the man is closer than before, he’s clearly picked up his own pace as well. “but he’s getting closer and i don’t have any iron or silver or anything and i–”

“hey, hey, listen to me. run as fast as you can to your car. you’re gonna be okay.” sam’s calm and level headedness are helpful, and immediately, you begin to sprint. but with a glance backwards, you see the thing gaining on you with unnatural speed. “drive anywhere and i’ll track your phone, i’m already on my way to come get you, okay? you’re gonna be fine.” 

you don’t realize you’re crying until you choke on your tears when you try to speak. “sam i– i don’t think i can make it, he’s too fast. the lake isn’t far from here, just head there, i–” you scream when an unnaturally strong hand clamps around your wrist.

you hear sam shout your name as you’re whirled around to face the creepy man from the bar. you try to pull away, but his skin is like adhesive, literally. you can feel your skin sticking to his like there’s super glue leaking from his pores.

“sam, please,” you sob out before the phone is ripped out of your hand and tossed aside. the man, or creature, or whatever bares his teeth in your face.

“it’s too late, sweetheart. all that hunter’s gonna find of you is your liver in the water. but you already know that, don’t you? hmm? how’d you know what i am?” he snarls, tugging you closer to him and smirking.

you don’t answer, just growl in frustration and struggle helplessly against him. “let me go!” you demand through tears.

“‘fraid that’s not an option, lass.” he smirks, then he’s yanking you behind him, pressing you into his back and in horror, you realize that his shape is changing right against you until you’re stuck to the back of a tall, dark horse, high above the ground. you let out a strangled scream and desperately struggle to get off. but, just as the folklore tells it, his sleek coat is impossibly sticky, as the lake must be close enough for him to smell its waters.

the horse leaps into a gallop, and another yelp is pulled from your lips from the speed he takes off at. panic rips through you and you grip the hair of the horse’s mane to keep your upper body from being yanked backwards. in a small moment of clear thinking, you keep your other hand from touching the horse. indeed, even his mane is adhesive, and you’re now stuck with just a single free hand. 

the streets and buildings are a complete blur to you with the combination of such speed and the tears in your eyes. all you can tell is when the town fades into the forest, and you’re being torn at by harsh, unforgiving tree branches. at this point, you know that begging or screaming is useless. so, you let tears be ripped from your eyes and pulled into the air by the wind rippling past you, and silently beg to whatever entity may be listening that sam gets to you on time.

suddenly, you’ve torn past the trees and straight into the shallow waters of the lake, and your hope fades. in seconds, your feet dip into the cold shock of water, and you think of how you never imagined your life would end this way. mostly because you didn’t think that shape-shifting killer horse-men were real, but here you are.

as your helplessness increases, you remember the silver necklace around your neck. it’s small, mostly likely inconsequential, but you still yank it off of your neck and press it against the neck of the large animal. it rears up, whinnying in pain, and you would’ve fallen and likely cracked your head open if you weren’t stuck to the creature’s back.

the silver clearly burns, but it’s too small to keep the large creature from completing its mission. it’s hungry. 

as your knees dip under the cold water, you hear the rumble of an old engine, then glance back just in time to see a tall, broad silhouette against the car’s bright headlights, running towards you as your waist, then chest are pulled under. 

it’s sam, and he yells your name as he splashes into the dark water. you choke out his name, then gulp in a full breath as the water reaches your chin, then swallows you up whole. it’s coldest against your head, suffocating and heavy and horrifying.

you don’t stop struggling when you’re submerged, hoping maybe the adhesive wears up under water. of course, you’re not so lucky, but your struggle seems to slow down the horse as it dives deeper into the water. there’s a long, torturous moment that passes where you’re positive that sam will be too late; your lungs already burn and you don’t think it’ll take too long for you to be drowned and eaten by something that probably shouldn’t exist.

but, your hopelessness is interrupted when the dulled light of his flashlight hits you, just as it begins to flicker and fail from being under water. then, his long arm is reaching out, grabbing hold of the horses mane to tug himself closer. the horse attempts to kick him away, but sam is able to sink a long dagger blade into the horse’s neck. a shudder passes through the monster, then it stills, and your immediately begin to float away from it. it’s magical properties fail as it dies, dark blood oozing out into the water. 

in a haze, you notice the water tainted with blood is warmer. it’s darkness and the way it seeps through the water reminds you of the ink of a squid. in a split second, sam’s strong arm wraps around your waist as his flashlight dies and the darkness in your vision isn’t just from the loss of light, but the loss of consciousness too. 

you do your best to cling to your awareness and sam’s broad shoulders, but you go limp in his arms just a few heavy moments before he breaks the surface, gasping and struggling a bit from holding both you and the dagger.

dean is right there to help sam, knee deep in the water. he quickly takes a hold of you and carries you to the edge of the water where he lays you down on your back. sam drops to his knees right beside you, and immediately, his hands are cupping your face, one hand slapping your cheek gently to see if you’ll wake up on your own before he starts cpr.

dean’s about to shove sam out of the way to do it himself, given that he’s far less exhausted, when your eyes fly open and you cough violently, your lungs doing their best to expel the unwelcome water from your lungs. 

even soaked in cold water, sam’s hands are still steady as he turns you to your side and pats your back to be sure that you don’t choke. you can’t really make out what he’s saying, but his voice is comforting as you gasp and sputter, your hands grasping at his for something solid to take hold of. 

“it’s okay, it’s okay. you’re safe now, i got you.” sam reassures, voice soft and steady. he pulls you up and into his chest as your coughing becomes less laden with lake water and more so with tears. it crosses your mind that you hate to be seen so uncomposed and vulnerable, choking a little on your own sobs, shaking from cold and residual fear, and sort of unable to speak after your whole entire view of the world has been grabbed hold of by some other force and tilted to a whole new angle. but you let sam hold you anyways; his broad frame, large set of hands, and hushed voice are so grounding that you wouldn’t dare move away.

you’re vaguely aware of someone else shrugging a warm, dry jacket over your shoulders, and sam is quick to readjust and pull it tight around you. and with that, your head tucked into his neck and your arms wrapped around his middle, you finally begin to calm down. your breathing evens to match the pace of his hand rubbing up and down your back and you shudder against him one last time before you shift to put a palm on the ground and take responsibility for some of your own body weight. you’re still leaning against him, because you’re not sure you could hold yourself up on your own, but you want it to be known that you’re regaining your composure.

the first words that you mean to say to sam are thank you, but the moment you open your mouth, you catch sight of something glinting in the moonlight just a foot or two away. so instead of the gratitude you mean to express, the words, “is that my dirk?” tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. sam winces guiltily underneath you and in an instant, you’re stumbling to correct yourself.

“oh god, that’s not what i meant to say, i’m so sorry. that is so horribly ungrateful of me,” your voice shakes from the chattering of your teeth as you look at him with total regret. “i was trying to say ‘thank you’ and i got distracted and i said that instead, but i didn’t mean it that way, i was just… confused.” you don’t even catch the way that sam smiles at you, all soft and endeared. 

and in reality, you are worried about the state of your priceless knife. you truly mean that you’re sorry for saying that instead of thank you first, but you still scramble away from sam in order to get the knife in your own hands.

the blade has mostly been washed up by the waters of the lake, but there’s residue of a dark, sticky substance that makes you cringe. but, with a sigh of relief, you realize that there’s no further damage to the artifact and carefully clean it with the still dripping wet fabric of your shirt.

behind you, someone’s laughing and it’s not sam. you finally fully register the presence of another person. you look up to see another man, pretty like sam, but with an amused smirk on his features.

“sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. “thank you, both of you. for, you know, saving my sorry ass.”

“of course,” comes sam’s sincere voice, “i’m just glad we got here in time. i’m sorry this happened. and for stealing your dirk.” you look over at him with an embarrassed, shaky smile. he points to the other man with his chin and you return your gaze to him. “that’s my brother, dean.” dean holds up his hand in a sort of greeting and you nod back.

“let’s get you two dried off,” dean says, voice still a little amused. “where can we drop you?” he asks kindly, stepping towards you and holding out a hand to help you up. you take his hand, still dripping the dagger in your other, and he hoists you up. as you’re still finding your footing, you feel sam by your side, then his big hand on the small of your back keeping you steady.

“thanks,” you murmur to the both of them. sam smiles at you, and dean lets your hand go, knowing that sam will be plenty pleased and anxious to be the one to lead you to the car. he managed to annoy sam into admitting that he asked you out on a date within minutes after he got back to the motel from the museum. sam had been trying not to be too smiley. he absolutely had been all smiley.

now, sam’s not smiling. he’s worried and completely guilt-ridden because he’s managed to see the sweet, awkward, and at ease you, and then a version of you that’s limp in his arms. as he ushers your shaking form into the back of the impala, he wonders if he should call it off. tell you he can’t make it to a date, that there’s a new case and he has to leave right away. not call you back. it’s nowhere near his fault that the each-uisge got to you, and yet, he knows that proximity to him means danger. that’s the last thing that he wants for you, even if he thinks he might want you.

and yet, you shiver and gingerly clutch onto your 16th century scottish dirk in the back seat of his brother’s car and when he glances back at you, you have the audacity to send him an adorable, lopsided little smile. you’ve just found out that monsters are real and nearly drowned at one’s hands and you have the audacity to smile at him? smile at him like you’re just fine when you’re so cold he can see you shivering through the rearview mirror and he feels like it’s his fault? and you look like you feel awkward, like you think smiling at him is the most normal thing you can think to do, and it makes him like you very much.

you’re irresistible, and he’d really like to be able to resist you, for your own sake.

“so,” when you start to speak, your voice trembles a little, just because of the way your teeth chatter. sam’s cold too, but it seems to be affecting you more. “hot, homicidal horse-man shapeshifters from scottish folklore are real,” you state, sounding an odd mix of afraid, confused, and very curious. you lean forward and lean against the seats in front of you. “is there… more?”

sam turns his head to look at you, his face full of regret. “yeah,” he says, sighing. “pretty much anything supernatural you can think of. from werewolves, vampires, and ghosts to djinn, each-uisge.”

“oh,” you ponder, “that’s… insane,” you settle on. sam nods in agreement.

dean lets out a huff of laughter. “you got that right. sounds like you’re handling it pretty okay, though,” he commends you.

you shrug, then admit, “i’m actually… trying not to be excited right now because i almost just died from that shit, but… it’s– sort of, kind of, just a little bit cool to me. to know that it’s all real, not that there’s dangerous creatures out there killing people. very not cool,” you nod at your own words awkwardly, trying to be honest about how you feel without sounding insensitive. “and you two… what? go around and save people from them?” you ask, tilting your head to the side curiously.

“yep,” dean chimes, “we’re hunters. we find monsters and gank ‘em for a living. not that it pays.”

“huh. hunters… that must… suck,” you conclude, then try to backtrack, “not– not that i’m saying it’s not important or– or that your lives suck, or– or… yeah.”

“no, no, it’s okay,” sam assures you, “it kind of does suck. a lot, sometimes, but we… we help people, and it’s worth it.” he wants you to think it sucks. he wants you to hate it and he wants you to think it’s too dangerous and awful that you don’t even want to be associated with him. and at the same time, he wants you to think that he helps, that he thinks it’s worth it because he can’t lie about that either. and he already knows, from the way you’re taking things, you won’t think of it as any reason not to be at least alright with him. god, sam’s got no idea what the hell to think, or what the hell to want.

“yeah,” you nod, “yeah, that’s– that’s good of you two.” you sort of wondered before if all this might change how you feel about going on a date with sam. when you think about it now, it doesn’t. it doesn’t change a thing. you still think he’s delightful. “so… where are you two staying? the bed and breakfast?”

“uh, no, we’re staying in the motel just outta town,” sam answers.

“in that shithole?” you raise your eyebrows skeptically. “gosh, i hear there’s never any hot water.”

“damn straight,” confirms dean with a humorless chuckle. “but we’ve had worse. at least this the water gets lukewarm.” sam shoots dean a look that neither of you catch, and the next words that you say are the reason for it.

“well, you two should come shower in my apartment, then,” you don’t seem to realize that’s a little bit suggestive, but neither could care less. it’s clearly just a kind offer. “it’s always hot and the water pressure is pretty much perfect. and sam, if you’re anywhere near as cold as i am, you definitely need a hot shower.”

“no, no, we shouldn’t,” sam refutes, voice kind and regretful in a way he hadn’t meant to show. “we don’t want to intrude after all the shit from tonight.”

you swallow, wondering if you can convince him to stay without admitting that you’re still scared. but you figure that might be the only way. after saving your life he seems to feel guilty, and you can’t understand why. “you wouldn’t be intruding, i promise. you… you really need a hot shower.”

“i’ll be alright,” he assures you, adding, “i’ve had much worse,” for good measure. he needs you to know that it’s dangerous to know him.

you sigh and sit back, leaning into the leather seat. “would you… would you mind, you know, staying with me a little longer?” you let a little bit of vulnerability seep into your voice; you don’t want to say the words i’m still scared, but you do want to give sam a reason to stay that he’ll actually take.

he glances back at you, and it’s too dark to see the look on his face; still guilty, but soft, warm, and understanding.

“no, no, i wouldn’t mind,” he says, voice extra gentle. you let out a relieved breath, glad that he understood your message. the rest of the car ride is quiet aside from your instructions guiding dean to your apartment. he pulls to the side of the road in front of your building. sam gets out first, opening your door for you and hovering his big palm over your head as you step out of the small car. you thank him quietly with a soft smile. he heads to the trunk to grab a spare change of dry clothes and you pull the big brown leather jacket off of your shoulders. you assume it to be dean’s, so you open the passenger’s side door and hand it to him.

“thank you, dean. you, um, if you want, you’re welcome to take a hot shower here, too,” you offer, noting the way he doesn’t actually park the car or step out himself. 

“that’s alright, sweetheart,” he grins, “i’ll leave you and sammy alone.” his tone is definitely suggestive, and he winks at you. you sputter for a second, then clear your throat awkwardly.

“i, um, sure! sounds good,” you squeak out, quickly retreating from the car and shutting the door. it’s very quiet, but you think you hear dean laughing a little. you try not to look completely embarrassed when sam approaches you.

“dean say he’s not coming?” he asks. 

you shake your head. “uh, n-no he said he’s fine.”

sam raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything about the way you seem much more flustered than you were just moments ago. he’s sure than dean made some inappropriate comment, and he’ll apologize for it later. 

“he say he’d wait here?” he asks instead. the last thing he wants is for dean to have inadvertently invited sam over for the night.

“um, no, i-i figured that he’d- that you’d…” you swallow thickly, unsure how to proceed. then dean shifts the car into drive and begins to pull back into the street.

“dean, wait!” sam calls after him, certainly loud enough to hear. sam is ignored, and the gorgeous black car just rumbles down the street. “god, i’m sorry about him. i’ll call him to pick me up.” he looks at you apologetically but you shake your head.

“no, no, it’s okay! i sort of thought that you… you know, might… stay over? only if you’re okay with that, i- it’s okay if you want him to pick you obviously, but… my couch is free and comfortable. probably better than the shitty motel mattresses.” you look at him, eyes both kind and unsure, and he finally remembers that you’re still shivering, even more without dean’s jacket pulled over your shoulders.

“i… if you’re sure. let’s just get inside for now,” he urges, hovering his hand over your shoulder blade as you both turn and walk into the building. you lead the way to your apartment, quiet and soft in your movements. somehow, sam is softer.

inside, he insists that you don’t worry about him, that you head right into the shower because you’re still shivering and it’s got him really quite worried. but you resist, first grabbing him a dry towel and a big fluffy blanket to warm himself up with while he waits in the living room. you tell him where the mugs and the tea can be found, and that the kettle should boil filtered water only. 

“you should make yourself a hot cup of tea,” you say, and tell him that the decaffeinated green genmaicha is your favorite for this time of night if he’d like to make one for you too. sure that he’d feel unuseful just sitting on the couch, you give him something to do.

when you step into the shower, you expect to be soothed. you expect your shoulders to relax and your limbs to stop shuddering and your teeth to quit chattering. it’s true that the bone deep chill begins to fade, and you stop fearing hypothermia. but you are not near soothed or relaxed. it’s not horrible because of the heat, the light, and the familiar surroundings. but the water on your skin is not as welcome as you’d wished. it’s not cold enough or suffocating enough to pull you back down into the lake with the sticky flesh-eating horse, but it’s not pleasant at all. 

you wash up quickly, then step out, dry off, and get dressed even quicker. you cover yourself in the sort of clothing fit for the middle of winter when you’ve been snowed in. fleece pajama pants, a cotton, crew neck long-sleeved shirt, and a sweatshirt to top it all off with. you don’t forget thick socks or the fuzzy blanket from your bed.

you find sam in your living room, a cup of tea on the coffee table and another in his hands as he stands with the green towel you gave him before wrapped over his shoulders.

“why aren’t you sitting?” you ask, perturbed by the idea that he’s been standing this whole time.

“i… didn’t want to get your furniture wet,” he explains, almost sheepishly. you shake your head at him, half amused by the lengths he goes to be gentlemanly. 

“that’s sweet, but unnecessary. i wouldn’t have minded,” you say softly. “anyway, the shower’s all yours. take as long as you like.”

he sets his mug down and gathers up his change of clothes before heading towards the bathroom.

“and there’s a fresh towel on the counter! don’t use that green one,” you call after him lightly, wanting to be sure he won’t reuse the already damp one.

“okay,” he calls back, and he’s turned away so you don’t see the soft smile on his lips. you settle into one end of your couch, curled up with the blanket wrapped tight around your body for warmth and comfort. no matter how much you wish you weren’t, you’re still shaken from everything, especially after the feeling of water on your skin again. you reach for the mug on the table, it’s ceramic material warm on your hands, but no longer too hot to hold. it’s a soothing feeling, along with the hot, earthy tea that slides down your throat and into your stomach when you take a long drag of the drink.

all you do is sit there, drinking tea and wondering when sam will be done. you told him to take as long he wanted, but the sight of him is comforting, and you hope he’s done soon.

he looks refreshed and relaxed when he emerges from the bathroom. he sits in the chair across from you with a grateful smile.

“thank you,” he says, voice quite lovely and sincere, “it’s been a while since i’ve had such a nice shower.” to you, he wasn’t gone too long, but for him, it was special and an absolute privilege to have a hot shower last that long. and your bathroom isn’t that nice by any stretch, but it certainly beats anything he can find in a motel. it’s homier, warmer, and familiar only because it suits you. honestly, he had trouble getting the courage to turn off the shower head; it was just too pleasant. but he didn’t want to wrack up your water bill, so he gave himself an extra minute before stepping out and getting redressed.

and now you’re telling him about how easy of a favor it was, and that he’s welcome to that sort of thing anytime. he’s so unsure of how to proceed, so conflicted, that you’re the one to bring it up. 

“so… are you still, y’know, um, interested? in going out to lunch, that is,” you ask hopefully, clumsily.

oh god. he doesn’t think he has the strength to say no, to disappoint you, to ruin this chance with you. but it’s dangerous for you and that’s the last thing he wants. yet, he’s not sure he could ever bear the face you might make if he makes some lame excuse to blow you off. and it would all be a total lie. he is interested, maybe more than just that. he goddamn wants it. 

“i am. of course i am.” he’s more relieved than scared when he says that, so he feels like it must be right. and he hates the idea that you’d even doubt his interest in you. if anyone has the right to be second guessing a date, it’s you. he’s honestly a little surprised you’d still want this. surprised, and beyond flattered. “i… don’t know how long i’ll be in town, but i’ll of course be here tomorrow, if that’s okay with you.”

you grin widely. “yeah, yeah that’s perfect.” your expression shifts and you look at him carefully. “and… after that? i don’t mean to jump ahead or anything and i… i know you’ll be… traveling, but it sort of seems like sometimes, you know, maybe, i could possibly… help you out? if you ever need information on weapons and lore and that sort of thing… you could, y'know, call me? i… i’d love to help, at the very least.” hopeful and clumsy. that seems to be the theme of the night for your words. 

sam’s gaze, no, his whole form softens. he loves the way you talk and he finds it sort of crazy that he’s met you only this afternoon. for a moment he thinks he’s surprised by your offer to help, but when he considers it for a moment, he��s really not. it fits you; your warmth, kindness, passion, and intelligence. he’s still scared about involving you with him at all, even more scared about involving you in hunting directly, even if you just help with information. 

yet somehow, your offer eases him. it’s a thought you’ve had all on your own, something you say you’d actually like to be able to do. he supposes he should just be honest with you.

 “i’ll call you. not just for help,” he begins, nodding to assure you that he wants that, and more. he’s so torn. torn between caving and just diving into this chance that he has or walking away and most likely saving you a whole lot of grief. and yet, it absolutely wouldn’t be fair to not give you a choice, so that’s exactly what he’ll do. “but… you… are you sure about this?” he asks with a heavy sigh, eyes careful and sincere as he examines your expression, your curled up form indicating you might still be feeling shaken.

“it’s not pleasant. people die,” he says, frank, but still gentle in tone. “dean and i, we could die. and you being involved… it makes things dangerous for you. even if you’re not out there, physically in the fight, it… it’s dangerous to be associated with us. with me. i don’t want that for you, but i… i would like to get to know you better, i know that much. and i know that it’s your choice, not mine. if helping is what you really want to do… i’m sure that you could save lives. we… could use your help. just… you can back out at any time. you can back out right now, if that’s what you want.”

he’s grateful that you really take a long moment to consider what he says. your eyes roam over his face, taking in the details of his expression, his sincerity, all of the changes in tone that you can pick up on. you think about it, you really do.

“let’s get to know each other,” you decide, voice soft. as you go on, you sound both unsure, like you’re still finding your footing, and determined, like you’re sure you’ll be steady eventually. “i’d really like that… as for the rest… for the monsters and all that, i… i’d still like to help. or at least try. if… if it’s too much, or feels dangerous, then i can… i can figure out what to do then. but if i could help save lives? i… i can’t just ignore that. i don’t want to ignore that. i do really appreciate that you're, you know, worried about my safety, it– it’s very sweet, i just– i know that i want this.” you say the last bit definitively, like you’ve been building up to it, convincing yourself of it and now you really believe it. 

sam’s relieved. he shouldn’t be, but he is. he wanted that answer, no matter his worries. he nods simply, giving you a soft smile. “okay. thank you.”

you smile back, thinking it’s sweet that he thanks you for offering your help, and maybe for something else too.

“my, uh, my lunch break is only half an hour,” you state, shifting the conversation just a little bit. “and i– i get if you’re tired, but we could… start now. you know, the getting to know each other part,” you offer, voice a little quiet and unsure again. you’re a bit clumsy and awkward when it comes to… well, most everything, but especially this sort of thing. you’re not even sure exactly what this is supposed to be. flirting? dating? or maybe it’s just as simple as that; getting to know each other. sam’s not perfect at this either, but he can certainly step into the more confident role for you. he wants you to feel at ease.

“yeah,” he says softly. “i’m not too tired. i don’t want to keep you up late, though. tonight was… tiring, i’m sure, and you have work in the morning.”

goodness, he’s so caring and considerate that it almost hurts. you fight back a yawn, trying not to prove his point as you think about waking to your alarm clock tomorrow morning. you don’t want to go to bed yet, and you don’t want to miss out on whatever time you have to talk with him.

“well… maybe i can call off. even just for the morning. i’ve got plenty of paid time off saved up,” you suggest, glad for this idea. you’re positive that you deserve to miss a little bit of work after what you just went through.

if you were offering just for him, sam would shake his head, insist that you don’t have to. but he considers that not having to worry about work in the morning and being able to sleep in would likely be very good for you. 

“if that’s what you want, it makes sense,” he says, smiling softly.

“okay,” you smile back, “i’ll email my boss, it’ll only take a minute. she’ll see it in the morning.” your computer’s in your room, so you leave sam to his own devices for just a moment. in the hallway on the way back, you speak up so he can hear you as you approach. “would you like to watch a movie? you might be right that i’m a little too tired to stay up talking, but i… don’t quite want to go to bed.” your voice quiets once you’re back in the small living room. frankly, the idea of being alone in your room, of laying down with nothing to do but think or sleep, frightens you.

his face softens like he can read your fear. “that sounds perfect to me.” you relax at his constant sweetness and subtle encouragements. 

“perfect,” you smile. “you’ll… have to get up so i can move that chair out of the way. you can sit on the couch, though.” he stands and moves the chair away from the tv for you, then sits on the other end of the couch. you snuggle into your own corner after picking a dvd. turns out that sam has seen and loves your favorite movie. 

turns out that he’s also a little too respectful and careful to get very close to you as you watch, but he doesn’t mind when you grow sleepy and stretch your legs a little more over the cushions. you don’t ask; you’re a little embarrassed, so he tells you it’s alright if you rest your feet against his thigh. and he doesn’t know where to put his hand after that, so you tell him that he can rest it on your calf. he does, and just that is infinitely comforting.

and turns out that, halfway through the movie, when you fall into a soft, quiet sleep, the only thing that sam’s worried about anymore is if he should let you just sleep there or carry you to your own bed. he doesn’t care if he has to sleep curled up in the corner of the couch or that chair or on the goddamn floor; he just doesn’t want to wake you.

[am-i-interrupting]

Hello! I'd like to request a little scenario thing with all the hazbin hotel characters you write for. This will probably sound stupid, but I just got my nails done for the first time ever, and I was thinking about how the hazbin crew might react cause I have been so excited to show them off!

If you don't want to do all of the characters, then I totally get it, I mainly want Husk and Vox. (And angel dust, but I'm not sure if you write for him)

Romantic pls!!!! Thank you so much if this is considered!!

You’ve unknowingly poked at an interest of mine. If ya care to know, I’m actually about to start school to become a nail technician next month.

(Part two— the gals)

Alastor

Alastor noticed immediately and was curious.

He’d grab your hand and carefully examine each fingernail.

He’d compliment the color and design.

He might question the shape and length, mainly for function purposes.

If you got acrylics, he would question how you planned to get things done and laugh during your adjustment period.

If you ever poked your eye (especially if you got stiletto nails), he would smile and say something along the lines of “Well, what did you expect, my dear?”

He does love how they make you happy though.

Not enough to not make fun of you when they cause you to fuck something up, but enough to accompany you to the salon a time or two.

He’d hover over your shoulder and watch everything the poor nail tech did, questioning everything with a genuine interest.

He would not help you if your nail broke off despite this though.

His interest is just fleeting and a want for knowledge and once again, “What did you expect, my dear?”

Husk

Husk looked at people’s hands a lot.

He’s a gambler and a slight of hand expert. It’s second nature.

He picks up instantly and makes sure to give you a gruff comment about how they look.

He didn’t expect you to light up and stick your hand in his face but he wouldn’t complain. He likes seeing you happy.

He will be honest with you when you ask for his opinion on the color or design.

Don’t expect him to sugar coat it. If he thinks the colors clash or the design isn’t good past a first glance, he lets you know.

Over time he becomes sort of casually knowledgeable about the subject.

At least to the point where if you ask him for a design idea, he’d give you a pretty damn good one and even be able to decide between if matte or gloss top coat would look better.

His favorite shapes are the coffins.

They’re blunt enough to not scratch but sharp enough to itch.

He will be just attention seeking enough for you to notice when you get him.

Give him scratches between the eyes and bridge of his nose with them and he’s a fucking goner.

Lucifer

He probably wouldn’t notice at first unless you told him or until he grabbed your hand while cuddling.

It’s not that he doesn’t care. He very much does care. However, he’s not the most observant unless it’s an obvious change.

As soon as it’s come to his attention though he is fawning.

He will absolutely gush over your nails.

Compliments everything, the color, the shape, the design, the length. Just absolutely everything.

He’s asking you how they make you feel and listening to you with a love-sick smile.

He would be willing to go get his nails done with you.

Very surprised at how relaxing he found it and how much he liked it. Will go with you again.

Vox

He notices something is up almost immediately.

If you didn’t burst into his office as soon as you walked out the salon, then he noticed when you went to bed. Or more accurately, he went to bed.

He works a lot of late nights to maintain his image so in all likelihood, you were probably asleep when he got home.

Crawling into bed with you, you roll over to cuddle with him, give him a kiss, and rub your hand down his arm or chest.

He’d grab it, feeling something different immediately, even if you just got polish, but you were already back asleep.

The next morning he’d mention them as you both got ready for the day.

I can see him drinking coffee as he watched you talk about your nails, absolutely smitten.

He would always demand to see your nails when you got new ones.

“Alright, what have you got this time?”

He would give his honest opinion on what he thought.

No holding back with this man.

Would provide you with the money to get any style, design, whatever you want.

He just loves seeing you happy.