#// really just want to put some writing on here wheeze

[nikawiy]

when i muster up the energy i wish to write so please like this for a lil starter from ma ♥

[evieelyzabethh]

Hey can u do a spike smut

I have another Spike smut fic coming so I'm gonna use this to drop my sfw and nsfw Spike headcannons because fun fact, the buffy brain rot is real and I have over 100 pages of buffy reboot material. anyways...

warning: not proofread

sfw:

Spike purely smokes because he thinks it makes him look cool. I think when it comes to vampires, they either physically cannot feel the effects of drugs or are lightweights. He hates the smell of smoke, hence the duster jacket, and refuses to smoke in his crypt because of the shit ventilation

Speaking of smoking, William was most definitely asthmatic. He had no friends in boys school because too much physical movement sent him wheezing. He did enjoy horseback riding though

He has poetry stashed somewhere, I just know it. Under some slab of rock or rolled in some random alcohol bottle pirate style, it's somewhere.

Spike would love an English major or anyone who has a hobby aligned with creative writing. This doesn't mean he'd automatically show you anything he's written but he'd be more open to the possibility sooner rather than later.

Very picky with what he steals/wears. He will not just put any old rags on. He dressed Drusilla and he is a fashion icon and I stand by that

As for him with a partner, I do think he is the type to fall first and incredibly hard

I think how familiar you are with one another would dictate a lot. If you were a Scooby, I wouldn't say he'd keep his distance, but he wouldn't be super outright with his affection. There'd be some playful banter here and there, dare I say some flirting, and maybe even some gift-giving every now and again. He's like a crow, he'd be the type to drop things on your windowsill just because it reminded him of you

If you two didn't know each other, he'd most definitely be the stalking type. Every time you're walking home from school, there WILL be a dark figure following you around. You're getting harassed by some rando? If you paid attention to the newspaper, you'd see they mysteriously went missing. You can go from eyeing something while window shopping to it magically ending up on your doorstep

Never the one to make the first move. He wouldn't say a word unless he was 100% confident that you liked him back, and even then, there'd be a lot of hesitation

He would love a forward partner. Someone who makes his insecurities melt away and who he doesn't have to worry about them ever getting over him. When he loves, he loves forever. He has all of time to love you and his ideal partner would be someone who wants to spend all of time with him

He is such a romantic!!! I think he would be so into matching couples costumes or just matching outfits in general. Super into domesticity wherever he can get it, decorating a home together, cleaning together, cooking together, doing anything together

Since he can't have a job, I do see him being a house husband. It gives him something to do during the day. Wears a 'kiss the cook' apron and pouts if you don't give him kisses while wearing it. I headcannon that he spent time all over Europe, including France, and had some really good pastries at some cafe that closed like 200 years ago and made it his life's mission to recreate them. The grocery bill is high but it makes him happy

Valentine's Day is his absolute favorite holiday and he makes a big deal of outdoing himself every year. Not in terms of money or extravagance, but meaning. He treats every day as a new one to know more about you. It's not enough to know your favorite color, he needs to know the exact shade, exact hue, and exact context you love it in. He knows your allergies, remembers your favorite outfits, and keeps track of your cleaning habits so he can make everything shiny and new when you forget yourself. He becomes a master of all trades to make you whatever you want exactly how you want it

He does really like Halloween, too. He's a huge fan of the Scream movies. He dislikes when horror movies try too hard. Being so used to gore, blood, and guts, he prefers a funnier, more unserious scary movie

Speaking of blood, he starts out against drinking from you. He used to only do it to kill someone, or at least with the intent to cause harm. He didn't trust himself not to get overwhelmed and hurt you. But I feel like at some point he either gets hurt on patrol or his stash gets low and you both forgot to restock and he has to. It was a very close call, and he couldn't bring himself to even look at you after the fact. He only warms up to it if it's necessary. He avoids it, but there are always slip-ups. He has bitten you during sex a few times when he got a bit too into it. He says he refuses to do it unless it's for your pleasure

He is so obsessed with you, if you couldn't tell. You're his favorite person, favorite scent, favorite taste. Not to be slightly yandere on main, but he would kill for you and kill himself if he wasn't enough for you. Never leave you. Never hurt you. Spike would never.

nsfw:

He is neither an ass or tits guy, he's just a 'you' guy. Absolutely everything about you gets him going. You think it's funny at first until you're trying to eat a bowl of spaghetti and he's staring at you, hard. It's not his fault the stray sauce around your lips looked like blood and vampire you is a very hot concept to him

You guys have to own a house. The noise complaints would be too much and you'd get evicted. I do see him as more of a groaner than a moaner, but sometimes it's just too much and it's both. Sometimes it's just one hand gripping the pillow your head is resting on, the other on the headboard, and his head in the crook of your neck practically whimpering as you milk his cock

You also have a tendency to get pretty loud, and as much as he loves your voice, his super vampire hearing can't take it sometimes :(

Doesn't really matter the position, but it's hard and he's so big. You can feel him in your damn ribs and it's choking you up. You don't even realize how loud you are. It's not until you hear his raspy voice in your ear. "I know, love, I know. It's a lot, but I need you to be a bit quieter. You're hurting me." And you pout a bit and try to mumble apologies that just sound like gibberish. You try, futilely, but surely he must understand that you can't help it. Not when it's this good. He whispers again, rubs where your belly bulges from his dick, but it doesn't seem to work. He eventually flips you over to shove your head in the pillows and you were far too out of it to complain. You like it a bit rough anyway.

As mentioned previously, he is a biter. He can't help it, it's instinct honestly. Its not like you mind, you clench even harder when he does. The sudden smell of iron is drowned out by the stench of sex and sweat, and the piercing feel of his fangs into your neck only stings for a bit. He makes up for it by licking up whatever spills <3 Being with a vampire was always going to be at least a little painful

He likes his hair pulled. You're fingers in his hair in general is heaven on earth, but being pulled around a bit is nice

Has a thing for tearing your clothes off. He really does like being a vampire, feeling big and strong in a way he was never able to when he was human. There is a feral piece of him, maybe its the demon inside him or it was always present, but seeing your clothes in pieces after the fact just scratches the itch in his brain

Speaking of brain, enjoys giving and receiving head equally. Being absolutely obsessed with you, and very secretly obsessed with the taste of your blood, he could die happily with your cum on his lips. Between your legs is his favorite place for real. As for receiving, it's his favorite way of shutting you up in any scenario.

Bruises. Everywhere. Hickeys. Everywhere. He's possessive but not exactly an exhibitionist, they end up along your collarbones and your thighs. Places where they can easily be hidden or revealed

Plays old music because he's old. He refuses to use modern technology because he likes his old as dirt aesthetic but definitely plays sexy orchestral music. I simply do not believe him to be an RnB kinda guy

He likes seeing you in his clothes after!! Going back to the whole love for domesticity thing, it just feels right. He's, shockingly, not always a horny fuck in the morning. Sometimes it feels more right to just look at you, the pretty after sex glow on your face, your messy hair, your cheeks pressed into the pillow. If you get up before him and put on what he had on the night before, it just completes the picture.

When he is a horny fuck in the morning, it's still just as soft and slow as the non-sexual mornings. He likes to be the big spoon simply because it's easier to slide his dick between your thighs and hold your tits at the same time

[skylarsblue]

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes Nine✦

(Sexual Implication) Ghost, trying to be sexy by whispering: Gaggin’ for it, aren’t ya, love? Soap: Nope. Ghost: No? Soap: I don’t gag on anything. Ghost: *404 Error* Soap: …Ghost? Si? Simon, are you alright?

-- Y/N: Let’s play a word association game! Ghost: Why? Y/N: Because I saved your ass last mission and I’m bored, so you owe me. Ghost: *sigh* Fine. Y/N: P e r f e c t . Gaz: ?? Y/N: Cold. Ghost: Winter. Y/N: Spring. Ghost: Mattress. Y/N: Soft. Ghost: Comfortable. Y/N: Pleasant. Ghost: Sunset. Y/N, With a shit eating grin: Beautiful. Ghost, unconsciously: Johnny- Y/N: YES Gaz: OHHHHHH Ghost: Soap: *gasp* Simon!~ Ghost: I’m going to go crash in a heli. Y/N: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT-

-- Alex: Bitch do you want me to jump across this table? Because I don’t have all day for this. Norris: You feeling froggy? Leap. Alex: Okay, well here I come- Farah: Alex no, no- hOLD OFF

-- (NSFW Joke) Y/N: Oh sorry. I almost drank out of your cup. Soap: Wh-Just go ahead, it won’t matter! Y/N: Well I- Yeah no, you’re right. I’ve drank out of your cups dozens of times. Soap: We’ve sucked the same dick- Y/N: That’s a good point! Ghost: ….*sigh*

-- Gaz: What kind of girl do you like? Soap: My wife. Gaz: And you? Ghost: Johnny’s wife. Gaz: OH- Price, knowing they recently started a poly situation: Pfft-

-- (Use of the word pussy because haha) Gaz, filming: Pffft- Soap: Shhshh- Y/N in the hallway: FORTY THREE FUCKING CENTS! AHHHHH Soap: *wheeze* Y/N: I NEED A SUGAR DADDY!! Gaz: PFFFT- Soap: I can’t breathe- Y/N: At this rate I’m ready to plaster my fuckin’ pussy on the sidewalk for some sPARE CHANGE! Gaz & Soap: *doing that silent cackle thing and smack each other in the arm* Ghost, leaning into the room: What the f- Y/N: SPAARE CHANGE, SPARE CHANGE! ANYONE GOT ANY SPARE CHAAANGE?! Gaz: *coughing* Soap: Steamin’ Jesus I’m fucking crying- Y/N, passing by the room: 🎵Walkin’ in a winter wonderlaaaand🎶

-- Y/N: Would you love me? Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Would I love you if…? Y/N: nO ThAt wAs tHE QuesTiOn-

-- Y/N: Pretty boy! With me I said! Rudy: Rudy: Rudy: Oh I’m pretty boy! Y/N: Yes! Oo that came out a bit quick- (Also works with Soap & Gaz, honestly)

-- (THIS IS A CONCEPT IM TOO WHIMPY TO WRITE, SO HAVE IT HERE! THIS COULD WORK WITH SO MANY CHARACTERS Also, NSFW warning) Ghost: I don’t miss. Y/N, on his ear piece: Never? Even with distractions? Ghost: *turns his scope* Not ever. *just about to take a shot* Y/N: Hmm…what if I went… Mm Simon~ Ghost: *misses* Y/N: Ya missed. Ghost: Cheeky bitch…

-- Gaz: Alright, so, since we’re now in America and we have some time to kill, I went and I got you something. Y/N: Aww Gaz, you really didn’t have to- Gaz: *puts down their Whataburger order* Y/N: OH MY GOD Price: Really? Gaz: *shrug* Soap: *snickering as Y/N Fucking demolishes some fries* Y/N, having the time of their life: Garrick you ever need your dick sucked, a dead body buried, a beer or whatever, you call me. I got’chu Gaz: BAHA- Soap: *wheeze* Ghost: Are you fucking crying? Y/N with their mouth full: I missed it so much.

-- (Team bonding exercises) Soap: You’re a football player, it’s in ya blood! Gaz: That’s racist. Soap: Your soul? Gaz: That’s racist! Soap: …your eyes? Gaz: That’s gay- Soap: That’s homophobic. Gaz: That’s black. Soap: That’s racist!! Gaz: Damn- (this one is extra funny since Gaz is now confirmed LGBT)

-- Gaz: You overrated little twink! Soap: Hey I am a TWUNK, alright?! That is a combination, twink, and HUNK, get it?? Hunk-

-- Soap: Hey~ Fem!Y/N: You’re Gay. Soap: …oh yeah. Soap: *looks at Ghost* Soap: Hey.~ Ghost: *sigh*

-- Soap: I’m gonna have to meet men lying down. Y/N: …I thought’cha did?? Soap: OI!

-- Soap: Everyone says what a giving person I am! Y/N: He’s talking about when you’re in an upright position.

-- Graves: What if there’s a connection? Y/N: I think there’s a connection between your brain and wallpaper paste.

-- Shepard: Now you’re always ornery, rude, unpleasant, and sometimes downright mean. That’s part of your charm. Y/N: Thank you, you colluding-county-hopping-idiotic-relic. Price: *pride*

-- Alex: Oh my god, how are you such a good driver? Soap: Because there’s illegal shit in here. Alex: Soap: Because if I don’t use my turn signal, we’re both gonna do fifteen. Because I am going to lie and say yours. Alex: ….. Soap: Put your seatbelt on, sweetheart. Alex: *clicks it in places* Soap: You are not safe!

-- (Sucking dick joke) Kidnapper: You’re gonna do as I say or I will make you regret ever being born. Y/N: Oh please, I’ve sucked dicks more intimidating than you. Soap: Oh this is why Simon was the way he was after we rescued you both last time.

-- Soap, shoving marshmallows in his mouth: This isn’t very ha-*chokes* MILF!Y/N, across the fucking base: ….*mom instinct* Price: ??? Ghost: Uh- Y/N: Something just happened. Kyle: PFFT-

-- MILF!Y/N: *letting Soap & Gaz lean on her while Price and Ghost stand close behind* Untrue. I’m a mother now. It’s really changed my perspective. Graves: And do you find it hard juggling life and a career? Y/N: You can juggle these nuts.

-- Soap: *rambling* Soap: Agh, sorry, I’m just goin’ on and on- Ghost: Oi, keep talking before I kick your ass. Soap: ….. Gaz: See? This is exactly what I m-where the fuck are these flower petals coming from?? ARE THOSE SPARKLES??

[hydrngea]

Rafe x reader

They grew up together and as kids Rafe got reader a necklace and she still wears it to this day but Rafe doesn’t notice until she’s all dressed up for midsummer

(This is really random but I thought it was cute lol)

Ur writing is amazing btw! 🫶🏻

perfect pick

a/n : thanks sm!!! i appreciate the compliment :)) i didn’t completely answer the prompt but i might do a part 2 in a couple of days :))

notes : rafe cameron x reader, au to some extent featuring rafes mom before she disappeared.

masterlist | PART TWO

————

rafe could care less about your tenth birthday. in fact, the only reason he even knew it was coming up was because it was all you and sarah could ever talk about lately; what the theme would be, what kind of cake would be the best to eat, who should and should not be invited.

rafe cameron does not care about your birthday- which is why when his mom forced him to come along with her to pick out a present for you, all he wanted to do was jump out of the car and run away.

“but she’s not even my friend.” he whined as they entered the mall, keeping the door open for his mom to go in with wheezies stroller.

“no buts. she’s family, rafe.”

he groans, his steps heavy against the large and perfectly square porcelain tiles of tiffany’s.

“just because she’s your best friends daughter doesn’t mean i have to get her a present.”

his mom shushes him as they approach the jewelry counter, placing a hand on his shoulder before smiling at the associate.

the associate is too enthusiastic to be genuine at this time of day. rafe rolls his eyes at her sickly sweet tone while she asks what they’re looking for. he feels a nudge at his side and his face twitches with annoyance.

“a necklace.” he says under his breath, planning on choosing the first one the associate suggests.

she leads them to the left side of the store, hand gesturing to an array of really expensive necklaces for them to choose from.

“i’ll be right where you found me if you need any help with specifics.” she smiles before abandoning them.

rafe turns to look at his mom, who holds wheezie on her hip. “so?” he shrugs.

“hm?”

he shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts, “what one do you want?”

his mother laughs, adjusting wheezie on her hip and grabbing her hand, stopping her from dirtying the display with her chubby fingers. “i don’t want any of these. which one does y/n want?”

the question makes him think for a second. he doesn’t know what you would like. he flips through his memories for some sort of indication, but really he should just point to a random piece and call it a day.

red. he thinks, he remembers you saying your favorite color is red- on multiple occasions.

it was red like ladybugs 4 years ago. then red like pretty roses. red like red pandas a couple years before. red like taylor swifts iconic lipstick now.

he shakes his head, then points to a silver chain with a little red charm in it. “that.” he shrugs and then turns on his heel, before his mom can question if its the best choice.

…

he fidgets with the black ribbon wrapped neatly on top of the gift box theyd put the necklace in, eyes tracing over the bolder lettering over and over again as they walked back to the parking lot. he avoids making eye contact with his mom, like for some reason it’d trigger her to go on another rant about how he should act gentlemanly when he gives her the present or at least act like he cares.

they make it to the car without any conversation, save for some half-coherent blabber here and there from wheezie. he slips into the passenger seat while his mom buckles in wheeze into her carseat, the box still in his hands.

halfway through the car ride, the silence between them is broken. “i know you don’t like to talk about your feelings rafe, but you don’t do a great job at hiding your facial expressions.”

“mom,” he groans, leaning the back of his head deep into the leather seat of her escalade.

“i can tell you have a soft spot for her.” she continues, pressing on the brakes as they approach a red light.

“i don’t.” rafe grumbles, fingernail digging into the box and leaving a mark.

“deny all you want, but i saw the way you looked thinking about her. it’ll catch up to you one day.”

he finally brings his gaze to her, his blue eyes meeting her mirroring irises with a glint of curiosity over what her words mean. he makes to open his mouth, to ask what she means by the look. to ask what’s going to catch up to him. but then reminds himself it doesn’t matter and stops himself.

he doesn’t have anything to catch up to him, because he doesn’t have any sort of feelings for y/n.

there’s no way he feels something towards you- could he?

he shakes his head, putting the box to his side and out of his lap and flickering his eyes to his window. why is he letting his mom get into his head?

he doesn’t care about you. doesn’t care about hee stupid birthday, or even care much about the stupid present he chose for you.

—————-

your tenth birthday party is excatly how you wanted it to be. it’s perfectly decorated, with red streamers hung all over the downstairs of your house and taylor swift themed snacks and games. you were having the time of your life, drunk off shirley temples in fancy alcholol flutes.

you notice a stain on your birthday sash and you pout. quickly excusing yourself to drop off the sash in your room, you rush out of your back patio and into the house, making your way towards the stairs when you bump into someone’s solid chest.

here’s one thing to note; regardless of what everyone says, you do not like rafe cameron. “oh, rafe.” you say, taking a small step back-you can feel your cheeks burn under his gaze.

okay fine, the previous statement was a lie. but not completely, it was only a small crush. tiny. as big as the sprinkles on your birthday cake.

“here.” he shoves a small gift bag into your hands and then hastily walks away before you can ask what it is.

the interaction leaves you somewhat disoriented but also flustered, skin pink and pulse fast.

on your past birthdays, you always get one present from sarah and one from her parents. and that’s what you think it is, a present from sarah’s family.

you bring the bag up with you into you room and pull the sash off your body, throwing it into a random corner of your room.

you know it’s bad etiquette to open presents before it’s time, but for some reason you’re too drawn to the gift bag to wait. you peak your head out your bedroom door and find that the coast is clear, and open the bag, pulling out a small teal box with a black ribbon wrapped around it. you shake it close to your ear, guessing it’s some sort of jewelry and grin to yourself when you realize you’re right

you open the box and find the most perfect necklace ever. it’s silver, with a small red heart attached to its chain with your initial engraved onto it.

you’ll have to thank mrs and mr cameron for the gift. it might be even better than the one sarah got you.

you hear your mom call for you from the bottom of the stairs and you quickly shove the box into the top drawer of your dresser, leaving the bag on top of your bed before hurrying back downstairs to rejoin the party.

——-

you’re confused when mrs cameron hands you another gift bag when it’s time to open presents.

“another one?” you ask with your brow furrowed, though you aren’t complaining.

“from me, ward and wheeze.” she hands it to you with a warm smile and a quick wink.

that’s when it clicks that the present wasn’t from who you thought it.

you slip away from the party and rush back up to your room, grabbing the original bag and digging inside for a card or an indication form who it could be from.

there’s a note stuck to the bottom of the bag, made of ripped loose leaf and written with a dull pencil.

“happy birthday” it says, with no signature. but you don’t need one to know who it’s from.

suddenly, your heart starts hammering and your face starts to swell with a smile.

you can’t believe it- rafes the one who got you the necklace, and somehow he managed to make it perfect.

—-

authors note part 2 : i want to say this is extremely UNEDITED so i apologize for any errors and incoherences etc ! there’s a 90% chance i’m gonna take this down and repost this with edits lol.

taglist : @mrsstarkey1 @maybankslover @of-many-fandomss @dearreader03 @penny4yourthoughts @willowpains

PART 2

[anna-hawk]

Dexterity

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: You're having some quality time on your own when Frank pays you an unexpected visit.

Explicit 🔞 • WC: 4,1k

Tags and warnings: masturbation, finger fucking, teasing, praise kink, hand & finger kink, dirty talk

Always time for Coffee series

⚠️ If you follow me on AO3, this is NOT a new fic! ⚠️

A/N: This month will mark five years since I posted my very first Frank x Reader fic. I made a small post for the series a few years back, but never a dedicated one for the first ever fic. After the news and pics of getting Frank back today, even if it's only for a small role, I was thinking back to the time I got first inspired to write and actually post something for once. It's been quite the journey since then and this series has now 16 parts, but most importantly, this fic played a big part in me joining the beautiful fandom that I've been a part of these past 4 years and getting me to meet incredible people. So I figured, let's be nostalgic and officially post it on here too.

Ever since meeting Frank Castle, you’ve been obsessed with his hands.

You know they have killed numerous people and could do cruel things to the ones deserving it, but you also know how kind and gentle they can be. When he would come to your shop as Pete, you’d seen how he would talk to one of your employees' kid, the boy having always had a short fuse, and manage to calm the boy down by simply putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The couple of times when he’d handled the fragile elements of your ice cream maker while repairing it with those deft hands had also shown how gentle they could be. 

Yeah, you really have a thing for his hands and the guy himself.

The first time you'd met him, you'd met Pete Castiglione the construction worker, who’d been visiting your Café for the first time. You had followed the whole Punisher debacle on TV and had been very intrigued by the man’s story. Yet even though you'd thought that Pete looked familiar, it had taken you a few weeks of him coming in every other day and helping you out with an electrical problem, to realize who had actually been hiding under all this wild hair and beard. That had been the first time you had come into contact with his hands, too. He had taken off his baseball cap, looked at you to ask where the problem was while standing really close to you, and something in his expression had finally made it click inside you. You'd breathed out, “Frank Castle,” in stunned realization a moment later. In the next second, he'd had you by your throat and against the opposite wall, asking who’d sent you. You had been so startled that you’d just started laughing at the absurdity of you being able to hurt him. Okay, so maybe not really laughed as much as choked, since he’d had his fingers squeezing rather hard around your windpipe. But you'd managed to wheeze out your thoughts, and he'd released you enough for you to tell him why and how you had recognized him. He’d deemed you trustworthy enough, apparently, because he'd let go of you and apologized for overreacting.

You had promised him that you would never tell anyone about him that same evening.

As weeks passed, and he’d still come by your Café, you'd managed to build a rather close friendship. After a while, though, you'd noticed that he was coming by less and less until he stopped coming altogether, making you worried. Finally, after the day everyone had found out that Frank Castle was still alive through live TV, he'd come to your shop when you were closing. You had been even more scared for him since the news and beyond relieved to see him unscathed. You had been touched to learn that he’d wanted to make sure that no one had found out that you knew about him and come to hurt you to get to him. He'd also told you that he would have to lie low for a while. You'd suggested that he should come to your place and hide there. He had declined, too worried about what could happen to you. Still, as you'd accepted his concern, you'd told him that he could come to yours whenever he needed to, no matter the time of the day or the night. You had never been more glad about giving him your address because weeks later, he had come to hide for the night and had done so several nights until the whole thing with Billy Russo had been over.

Nowadays, he still shows up every now and again. Mostly nights because he has some business to take care of, or just to say hi. You both grab a drink (mostly coffee) and chat. You enjoy his company a lot. Okay, more than a lot. You’ve had a thing for the Punisher even before meeting Frank, but since knowing the man himself, you couldn’t help being attracted to Frank and his beautiful large hands and agile fingers. Among other things. You don't know where he stands with romantic or even only physical relationships considering his past, but you do kind of flirt with one another. You know that Frank likes you a lot; otherwise he wouldn’t come to see you regularly. But even if you want him, badly, you feel that it’s more like bantering to him and nothing more.

That doesn’t stop you from dreaming or fantasizing about him and the filthy things that you’d love him to do to you or you to him, though. And that's actually exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re lying on your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, one hand inside your sleeping shorts while your breaths come harder and faster. You’ve been teasing yourself for what feels like an hour, fingers alternating between circling your clit languidly and pushing three deep into you to mimic the size of two of his, getting yourself closer and closer to one spectacular orgasm. You’ve got your eyes closed, face flushed, bottom lip between your teeth, while your middle finger is rubbing faster and faster over your slippery clit. Harsh breaths leave you as you picture Frank spreading you wide with his fingers and whispering dirty nothings into your ear. You’re right there, on the brink, ready to fall, when there’s a resounding knock at your door.

You yelp in surprise and flinch so hard that you nearly hit yourself in the face with how fast you remove your hand from between your legs. You’re trying to get your bearings back, your body still trembling from being strung high for so long and not getting what it wants, when there is another knock. You groan in frustration and get up on wobbly legs to go check on who wants to see you so badly at that time of night. You look through the peephole and gasp when you see Frank’s face. He'd been here only last week, and he usually shows up only once a month at best, so you’re completely thrown when you open your door to the smirking man.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greets in his signature gruff and deep voice, upper body pressed lazily against the door jamb.

He’s looking calm and carrying no signs of a recent fight. Meaning that this isn’t an emergency call. Good. He’s wearing dark jeans and a charcoal Henley with his usual combat boots, three days worth of stubble on his face. He looks mouthwatering, and you valiantly try not to let anything show on your face.

“Was in the neighborhood visitin' Curtis and thought I could come check on you too. Sorry it’s so late,” he continues, confirming your earlier thoughts on there being no immediate danger.

“You’ve come by way later, Frank,” you remind him with a snort and motion for him to follow you inside.

You notice that your voice came out a bit strained, and hope that he doesn’t see how your knees are still shaking after the near orgasm and the effect his unexpected presence has on you. Well, turns out that you’re out of luck. 

“You okay there?” He asks, as he follows you into the kitchen.

You groan inside, of course he noticed. You still try to play it off.

“What? Of course, I’m okay.” You hate how your laugh sounds off. You’re usually better at faking stuff like that.

“Yeah?” he says, coming to stand right before you to give you a once over. “'cause you’re all flushed and breathin' kinda hard.” He even lifts one hand to feel your temperature, but you dodge it and turn to the sink, reaching over it to get two coffee mugs out of a cupboard. Anything to avoid him see you blush even more.

“I’m fine, Frank, don’t worry… Coffee?” You desperately hope that he’s going to let it go. You need to put yourself back together and slow your breathing.

“Can never refuse your coffee.”

You breathe a small sigh of relief when he seems to accept your answer and smile at how fond he sounds of your coffee making skills. You’re about to reach for the coffee beans when he says, “Seriously, though, am I makin' you this nervous or what's goin' on?”

You put your hands back down and groan in defeat, hanging your head.

“Could you just let it go, Frank? Please?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you don’t turn around to look at him while you wait.

“Did I interrupt somethin'?” He finally says, amusement clear in his voice. Damn him and his perceptiveness.

You hide your face in your hands and whimper in embarrassment.

“Oh God, just shut up, Frank!” Your voice is muffled by your hands. He barks out a laugh, making you lower your hands again. “You’re such a jerk.”

“Hey, hey, `s okay Sweetheart, there’s nothin' to be embarrassed about,” he tells you gently, though you can tell that he’s still grinning, the bastard.

“Yes well…” You still refuse to turn around, even though you can hear him move closer behind you.

“'could always show me, y'know,” he says, and even though the words hit you to the core because the thought alone sends a new wave of deep arousal through you, you can’t place his tone. 

That's why you do the only thing that comes to mind and gasp, turning around to backhand him in the chest and play into the joke.

“Oh, fuck you, asshole.”

You meet his eyes and see that there’s something there, lying just under the teasing glint. You suck in a breath, holding it in, while your heart beats a nervous tattoo against your rib cage.

“Or… I could help 'course,” he finally says, voice low, after what feels like minutes and not seconds, his piercing eyes never leaving yours.

You stare at him, still barely daring to breathe. The idea of him helping you out nearly sends you to your knees. Eventually, you exhale in a snort because come on, he doesn’t mean it, and go back to facing the counter, taking the coffee beans out of the cupboard.

“Yeah, right… Let’s get back to that coffee, yeah?” Bonus points for sounding offhand.

You hear him taking another step and then see his hands coming to rest on the counter, one on each side of you, effectively caging you in. His voice is a rough whisper against your left ear, making you gasp.

“Is that a no?”

Your hands, now inches apart from Frank’s, are gripping the marble beneath them, hard. You close your eyes and swallow.

“Don’t play games with me, Frank.” Your voice goes deeper and colder in warning. You might not expect anything romantic-wise from him, but you won’t be made a fool of.

“‘m not playin', Baby.”

To confirm his words, he glides his nose along your nape and bites you lightly on the juncture between neck and shoulder.

You moan, all need. That nickname. He's never used it before, but it does something to you. Babe you’ve never liked. But Baby? The way Frank says it, just gets to you. You incline your head to the side, a silent surrender, and feel him grin against your skin. Your eyes are closed so that you don’t see his right hand leave the counter, but feel it settle on your hip and slowly glide down your thigh to the hem of your shorts. To your dismay, his mouth leaves your neck.

“Spread your legs for me, Sweetheart,” he rumbles into your ear.

You oblige instantly, parting your legs and leaning slightly forward to accommodate him. Frank hums in approval. You can feel his fingers on your skin now, just beneath the hem of your shorts, slowly making their way under your right butt cheek and to your center, the touch light and measured. How is it that he's barely touching you and making your breathing speed up again? You try to relax your hands because you’re still gripping the hard kitchen surface like crazy; anything to anchor you. But Frank chooses that moment to push the short’s to the side, hooking it between your ass cheeks and the left side of your outer lips, to grant him easier access. One large finger slides through your still wet folds. One lazy pass through your slit and up to your clit, and your hands lock into place again, a harsh gasp leaving your mouth.

“Shit, already so fuckin’ wet, huh? Guess I did interrupt somethin' good.”

You say nothing, you can’t right now.

Frank keeps up his slow and torturous pace, sometimes staying over your clit and circling it with a featherlight touch that has you nearly screaming in frustration. You try to get a bit more pressure by pushing down on his finger every time he does this, but he just goes back to teasing your slit. Your arms are trembling from the strain, and you murmur a nearly silent plea for more. He seems to hear you though because he chuckles kindly and applies enough pressure for you to moan in satisfaction for a few seconds, before he stops again, too soon. When you fantasize about him, you usually picture him as the teasing kind of lover, but your imagination could never have reached this level.

“Tell me… What you been thinkin' about earlier?”

You’re kind of put out to hear that his voice is still steady, so you decide on the truth. In for a penny and all that.

“You,” you breathe softly.

His movements stop, and you’re satisfied with his reaction, when you realize that you might have overshared. His hand is moving again a moment later, and he growls deep in his throat. He presses his chest to your back, left hand coming up from the counter to grab your jaw and pull it to the side to press biting kisses into your neck and shoulder, making you keen.

“Me, huh? Fuck, now I really want ya to show me sometime…,” he pants roughly into your neck, index finger rubbing tighter and harder over you. “And what was I doin’?”

You have to concentrate to answer him, the pressure on your clit so delicious now. Your voice ends up breaking on each word.

“Something… like… that…”

“Something?”

“Finger-fucking… me.”

He inhales sharply, and you feel him adjust his position behind you, his clothed erection brushing against your ass for a second.

“Something like that?”

Two of his large fingers plunge deep into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out in bliss and go up on your tiptoes for a second as your body rises. Your back bows backward, resulting in your head coming to rest on his shoulder, while your eyes close, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Fuck, you feel so good for me, Baby,” he groans into your temple. He withdraws slightly before pushing back all the way in, setting a steady rhythm as the way his name keeps falling from your lips keeps him going.

The hand on your jaw slackens after a while and travels down your neck, over your collarbone and a covered nipple. He’s stroking down your belly and to the junction of your thighs before he finally stops directly over your clit. He rolls it between index and thumb with just the right amount of too much and not enough pressure, or flicks quickly over it repeatedly to keep you on your toes and not know what to expect next. The rhythm of his two hands are completely different. Where his left hand is teasing you slowly but mercilessly, his right hand still has two fingers fucking you fast and deep, making you whimper brokenly. His fingers feel absolutely incredible, yet you know that it’s to keep you on the edge of release. You love and hate it at the same time. The dual sensation has you removing your head from his shoulder to take your weight with your hands on the counter again, leaning forward a bit more to push your ass out and give him even better access.

Frank grunts his approval and keeps up the pace. You feel him resting his forehead on the nape of your neck.

“Holy shit, girl, look at ya takin' my fingers so perfectly,” he says gruffly. You squeeze down on said fingers at the praise, resulting in a groan of appreciation from him.

Eventually, no matter how long he’d intended to keep you on the brink, you’ve been strung so high for so long, that your orgasm is building inexorably, your body ready to crash back down again. His continuous praise is speeding it up as well. Your legs start to shake and a light sheen of sweat is covering your skin. Your harsh breaths are intermingled with moans and gasps of please mores and yesyesyes.

“Frank, please,” you beg one last time. “Please!”

“I gotcha, Sweetheart,” Frank answers finally and starts upping his pace on your clit.

“Yes!” you hiss, elated.

But Frank is apparently not completely done with you because he removes his two fingers from inside you, only to push back but with a third one, this time. You can only cry out in surprise and deep pleasure as he gives you half a second to adjust, before he starts an intense rhythm again. You’ve never felt this full with only fingers, and you can now feel as your release starts curling hotter and tighter in your belly.

“F-f-f-frank, I’m so, so close,” you manage to breathe out.

Frank keeps a litany of words spilling out of his mouth against your neck, “So fuckin' perfect for me” and, “Takin' me so beautifully”.

Suddenly, you're right there again, just like before, ready to take the leap. You feel the shivers running through your whole body and centering where Frank is rubbing tighter and tighter circles. Frank lifts his head from yours and growls deeply into your ear. “Now come for me, Baby. Come on my fingers.”

“Oh fuck, Frank!” You mewl, high-pitched, and that’s it. Everything in you snaps at his words. The intensity of this so long to come orgasm hits you like a freight train driven by Frank Castle. Your body curves back against his, your head back on his shoulder, facing his neck. Your hold on the kitchen worktop becomes deadly again after having slackened somewhat, and you cry out in pure, unadulterated bliss. You dimly feel Frank stopping the fingers inside you and taking them out to circle your waist and push you even more back against him. His focus is on his left hand, index finger still stroking your bud with intense precision, prolonging your release.

As you’re slowly coming down, your body begins to tremble and Frank tightens his hold on you to prevent your knees from giving out on you. You finally release the worktop, fingers a bit stiff, and put them over Frank’s arm to hold on to. His finger hasn’t stop working you, though, and while it’s sending you nice aftershocks, which have you jerking and gasping against him, you finally reach down with one hand to grab his wrist to stop his movements and rest it against your waist with the other.

“Too much,” you mumble into his throat.

You stand like that for a while, both not saying anything while you try to get your breathing back under control. As the seconds trickle by, and you process the last fifteen minutes, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and escapes your lips.

“What?” Frank asks, and you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“That was so not what I was expecting from your visit… Not that I mind, of course,” you grin, all relaxed limbs and all.

Frank chuckles, “‘m a man full of surprises.”

You reach down to tug at your shorts and make yourself presentable again, and snicker.

“That you are,” you say and turn around in his arms to look at him, your hands coming to rest on his strong chest.

Your heart misses a beat when you see his face. He’s a bit flushed, and he’s still breathing rather deeply, but it’s his eyes that capture your full attention. They are still dark with arousal, the gaze intense and fixed on yours. Frank’s lips break out in a smirk as he catches you staring. You swallow and clear your throat as you finally take in the hard outline of his dick against your body. You’re about to open your mouth to inquire about it, but he beats you to it.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Sweetheart.”

“But-”

“‘m good,” he cuts in again, kissing your temple to take the sting out of his rebuttal before letting go of you.

You stay quiet and lean back against the counter as you nod vaguely. Frank takes a few steps backwards away from you, one hand coming up to rake through his hair and down his neck in a nervous gesture. He doesn’t look at you, so you decide to break the silence. You’re still floating on your high a bit and don’t want things to get uncomfortable between you two.

“So… coffee?”

You see him take a small breath and look back at you with a smile. His eyes are kind but unreadable, like they so often are when he’s thinking about something.

“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks.”

You smile and get back to grab the things you need, Frank going to sit on the couch. The silence is only broken by the coffee grinder for a small while. Your apartment is one large space with an open kitchen that gives on a big living area. A comfortable couch and a coffee table, that are framed by two armchairs, face a flat screen TV and huge floor to ceiling windows. Your bedroom with en suite bathroom is on the opposite side from the kitchen. You adore this place. From where you’re preparing the two mugs, you only have to turn your head to the left to see Frank sitting on the couch, arms thrown over the back of it, legs spread wide. He stares unblinkingly at the darkness and buildings outside your windows. You bite your lip and sigh softly. Once you’re done, one mug with strong dark coffee for Frank in one hand and in the other one with decaf because you definitely don’t need any more excitement tonight, you make your way over to him.

You walk around the back of the couch to sit at the opposite end, your back resting against the armrest. You extend your hand with Frank’s mug toward him. He blinks down at it for a second before taking the mug. He turns his upper body to face you, and you relax a little more at the half smile, half smirk that he usually wears and that he gives you now.

“Thanks,” he says gratefully and hums in pleasure when he takes his first sip.

“Anytime,” you chuckle warmly. You had been proud to find out that Frank had initially come to your Café because he had heard people talking about the quality of your coffee.

You sit there without saying anything, but this time it’s a comfortable silence, both savoring your drinks.

“So how’s Curtis?” You inquire after several long minutes.

It’s an honest question, but you also want to show Frank that you can still talk like you used to. You’ve never met Curtis, but you’ve heard a lot about him and how he has always been there for Frank. That alone means a lot in your book. You end up talking for a small amount of time, conversation becoming easier, before Frank decides to bid you goodnight. You walk him back to the door, and he envelops you in a hug that you hadn’t been expecting at this point. He kisses you on a temple like he often does, making you smile into his neck fondly before returning the kiss but on one cheek instead.

“Take care,” he rasps into your ear, before letting go of you and opening the door.

“Be careful,” you counter with raised eyebrows and a meaningful look.

Frank chuckles and nods. “I'll see what I can do.”

He walks off to the elevator, which opens for him immediately when he pushes the call button, and steps inside. He lifts a hand in a wave as the doors slide closed in front of him, and then he’s gone.

You close your door and lean against it, heaving a heavy sigh. You don’t really know what to feel right now. You’ve just had one of the most memorable orgasms of your life, but still don’t know where you stand with Frank. If you go back to how things were before tonight, that’s fine with you. You’re kind of afraid that you might have scared him off, but the way he behaved before leaving makes you feel confident enough that you haven’t. The ball is definitely in Frank’s court now. You would have to wait and see.

[potatobugxo]

Hey I saw your have requests open and I was wondering if you were willing to write a very fem presenting f!reader who is ace but doesn't really care how she is perceived based on her taste in clothes or the infamous being walked into while changing x Alastor and Lucifer (separate, together or just one of the two. However you like it).

How would they react? I think Al would be ever the gentleman and maybe appreciate that he can just be and live with the body he was given and she would look in his eyes even if he'd be bathing or something (ngl I think bathing together is such a cute thing and I hate that lewd minds ruin the innosence in it and the level of trust and comfort with one's self and another one can gain from it)

Like he is not just some hot piece of ass but a person in her mind no matter how he is presenting himself.

As for Lucifer I think he'd be curious about how she sees those situations as sensual and innocent where everyone else would just jump to sex and maybe find comfort in her view of him.

Or just a very oblivious sweet f!reader with them.

Idk if I make much sense and if you don't want to write it that's perfectly fine. I hope you have a lovely day!

Thank you so much!!!!

i really like the contrast between these two for this idea!! i wasnt sure if you meant them walking in on the reader changing or the reader walking in on them changing (so i went with both sjsjfs) and thank u bby i hope you have a lovely day as well <33 warnings: mentioned nudity (not graphically described) lucifer's part is more suggestive silly

walking in on alastor/lucifer changing & vice versa (seperate)

you walking in on him changing:

"o-oh! uh! sorry, sweetheart! i didn't, uh, see you there!"

very flustered right off the bat. man was in the middle of putting his pants on when you walked in okay he was not emotionally prepared

you just blink at him widely and then smile, saying, "dinner's ready whenever you're hungry!" before abruptly leaving

f l a b b e r g h a s t e d

lucifer knows your ace but he thought you'd have more of a reaction to seeing him with his lil white booty hanging out

he joins you for dinner later and you make conversation about your day as if you didn't just witness his bare cheeks walking in on you changing:

"OH GOOD GOLLY UH, SORRY ABOUT THAT!"

his wheeze laugh really comes through with this one

"oh, it's okay, luci, i was just getting ready for bed."

he doesn't know what to do, should he cover his eyes and turn his back to be polite?? should he leave?? is he allowed to stare??

you just continue to take your clothes off and put your pajamas on while he's gawking like an idiot trying to think of what he should do

by the time he snaps out of it you're shimmying under the covers and patting the pillow beside you for him to join

it's obviously okay for him to change in front of you now so he does and rolls under the covers beside you

poor guy has a tough time understanding how you can be so innocent, a sweet lil smile on your face as you snuggle up to him with nothing but a shirt on and no ulterior motive

you walking in on him changing:

he'd be in the middle of removing his dress shirt when you stride into his room

"alastor are you- oh are you getting ready for bed?"

"why, you're right on time my dear! i was just about to take a bath. care to join me?"

you both are asexual you got no problems here 💀

bathtime is something alastor genuinely enjoys with you because he knows you won't feel uncomfortable or make things weird

he loves when you wash his hair for him and he enjoys giving you shoulder rubs

he's content that neither of you are ashamed of your bodies nor ashamed of showing them as there is no sexual motives to any of it

walking in on you changing:

"oh, my apologies my dear!"

he would be strolling into your room while you're slipping into your regular attire for the day

very gentlemanly, and even though he knows you're okay with showing your body around him he's still polite about it and turns on his heel to avert his gaze

"it's okay alastor, it's no problem!"

sometimes if you'll allow him to, he'll assist you as you change, for example pulling your overshirt or coat over your shoulders, or assisting with pulling your boots on

its a sweet way for him to express his affection for you! he needs to treat his lady right after all!

[machveil]

Has anyone brought to you the question of what type of car Konig drives? I can’t see him fitting in anything but a giant truck, but also the idea of him in a little VW Bug makes me wheeze. (Of course there’s always the third option of motorcycle, but that might just be because motorcycles are hot af)

OKAY ANON— you activated my brain and had me dig through a 300+ asmr playlist I have on YT for a very specific video so I’m going on a tangent and a half about this haha

I’ll start with the smallest thought portion because this is going to be long…

Retired!König strikes me as owning a motorcycle, first and foremost. he’s always liked the way they look, so now with a hefty savings account and ample free time, he’s decided this can be his retirement project. he could buy a new motorcycle, really treat himself, but this guy is a working man! he buys a beat up, ‘well-loved’ bike (even the seller was surprised someone was actually buying it)

even though Retired!König definitely has enough cash saved up to make the process of fixing the bike up fast… he doesn’t. he wants this to be a pastime he can keep up, even it means he can’t ride the bike for a long time. he’d order parts individually every week or so - smaller parts, maybe in batches. he’ll grab a beer, put on some music, open his garage, and let the neighbors have a show of him dismantling and breathing new life into this motorcycle

all in all, I think it takes Retired!König a year, a year and a half, to fully finish the bike (of his own volition). by the end it’s beautiful - new sleek paint, high end parts, the works. …he could possibly be so into it that Retired!König opens an actual garage shop and fixes up vehicles (mechanic!König anyone?). yeah, he’s retired, but having a hobby that makes you money? can’t say no to that, Maus

ANYWAYS, on to the meat and potatoes of this post

so, my beautiful, oh so smart anon, thank you for sparking my brain into remembering THIS VIDEO. you CANNOT tell me this isn’t König coded, the entire thing SCREAMS König to me (actually, the entire channel does, but I can only fangirl so much)

König owning a Jeep scratches my brain right - I’m not knowledgeable on cars/trucks, so if you think there’s a better off-roading/camping vehicle I will believe you 100%. also, I’m sorry, I’m watching the video as I’m writing this - König would definitely take his fluffy, little kitty camping with him. the guy in the video has a dog, but my cat dad propaganda will never stop

it doesn’t matter where or how old König is, he loves camping and immersing himself in nature - he needs a vehicle that can keep up with him. it started as a kid where he’d flee into the local woods after school or on weekends for alone time. he convinced his mama that he’d be okay if he camped out in the woods, and after one dinky camping trip he was sold. every chance he gets he’s off in nature - hiking, camping, he tried caving once but he was too big :( he liked the entrance to the cave though. he adores bird watching, definitely has high end binoculars. he’d buy a camera too, but he’d rather enjoy nature in the moment rather than fumbling to take a photo. König thinks that some things don’t need to be captured in a photo, it’s okay just sitting down experiencing it, just remembering it

so König enjoys having a vehicle that lets him get away from people, he doesn’t mind driving til he’s almost running on empty. he’d gladly drive out into the middle of nowhere just to sit down and take in nature. always carries a box of trash bags in his truck so he can pick up litter along the road. and, since his vehicle is what allows him to travel, he takes very good care of it

back to his Jeep, he decks it out like the guy in the video. when König camps he treats it as a ‘how long can I stay out here’ ordeal, or up until he has to go home for obligations. so König tries to maximize space, I’ll say it every time - König has a place for everything, he’s an organized king✨

I’m not going to lie, I’m just going to say look at the guy’s Jeep in the video. they way he has it set up is just how I imagine König’s Jeep - this guy has a net attached to the ceiling for supplies, I could see König bungee cording a cooler in the back (completely organized), I just have so many thoughts on König camping this is too much haha

I’m trying to stay focused on the car aspect, but like… camping with König :( I guess I could make that another post if people want to see that

I’m sorry the latter half was so all over the place, I tried to keep it simple and edit it down, but I couldn’t anyways… he definitely owns some type of car that can handle camping. I’m partial to this specific Jeep though, call me biased lol

I looked up that VW Bug and I’m SCREAMING, this poor man haha! he’d be so hunched over, anon, his poor back. König definitely loves the aesthetic/look of the VW Bug, but he’d rather deep clean his home than sit in that (which says a lot). if you own a cute little car he’d offer to drive you everywhere. he claims that he’s being a gentleman, that you shouldn’t have to lift a finger, but in actuality he just doesn’t want to sit in that cramped little vehicle. he’s so sorry, Maus, let him make it up to you by being his passenger princess?

[missyandthemisfits]

FF7 Headcanons – Do They Like Their Partner Playing In Their Hair?

I write sometimes so Imma put some Final Fantasy VII headcannons here in honor of tomorrow’s release 🍷🍾

Cloud Strife – He absolutely does, he also absolutely won’t own up to it because he’s EMBARRASED. That said, if you really wanna hear him say it that badly, you can always threaten to never do it again. He’ll pout, complain softly, and confess. THEN he’ll immediately ask you to do it.

Tifa Lockhart – YesssSS, she adores it! But she makes you wait until you’re alone to do it because she is CONVINCED she makes questionable faces when you do it. She does. She does make those faces-

Aerith Gainsborough – You’d better believe she does and is happy to return the favor! She might actually be better than you at it though…awesome scalp massages.

Barett Wallance – Not really…? But he can be convinced. Especially after a long, hard day and a hot shower.

Cid Highwind – NOPE. Don’t even try it, you’ll get an earful and will NEVER hear the end of it, I assure you.

Vincent Valentine – He is FIRMLY on the fence about it. On one hand, it feels amazing and he really does love it. On the other hand, he’s still convinced he just doesn’t deserve that kindness, from you or anyone. You may or may not be able to get him to agree to it, depending on the day.

Reeve Tuesti – He does indeed like it and he is also not afraid to ask for it. Hell, he’ll ask for it mid-speech sometimes, right in the middle of the explaining something to the party members. You will probably say no.

Reno Sinclair – YES, for the love of God, PLEASE play in his hair. I cannot stress this enough, HE HAS NO SHAME. He will beg, with or without company, outside or inside your home. He does not care how it looks to those around him, he’s a man that knows what he wants an when he wants it.

Rude – I wheeze, but yes. He enjoys…scalp massages.

Elena – She actually only likes it when and if you wash her hair for her while you’re doing it, something about the combination of nails and water – she’s a little strange, but it’s cute.

Tseng – Another fence straddler, but he’s a lot easier to convince. For him, it’s about intimacy, something you two share that he doesn’t wanna share with anyone else so it stays in home – because he’s a little possessive.

Rufus Shinra – Oh yes, he definitely enjoys it – he’d ask for it more if it didn’t mess up his hair so much before meetings. He’s always got this smug look on his face when he teasingly asks though, so that’s a thing. Also possessive.

!! BONUS !!

Zack Fair – He’s got this lopsided grin on his face when you first ask him because he’s never had someone ask. But after the first time, he’s almost like a puppy.

Genesis Rhapsodos – He does like it, but he saves that sort of intimacy for after…‘The act’. Makes it more special. I think he’s just dramatic, honestly.

Angeal Hewley – Apprehensionnn, but if he’s feeling particularly stressed he may let you do it. It’s a hard sell though, be strong soldier.

Sephiroth – YES, thoroughly enjoys someone playing in his hair but understands they could be there for a while given the length of his luxurious locks – not that he minds. He could sit there all day, grinning and praising you for your time and effort. Unnecessarily suave, always.

——————————

Pictures aren’t mine, Headcannons are!

[fandomobbsessedb]

Alastor x F!Overlord!Reader

AN: this is the result of the first poll I posted, Alastor won so here we are!

I’ve kinda broken this into two bits in this one shot, there’s a warning farther down if you want to keep within the ideas of “headcannon” but farther below I have the start of a story, I got a bit carried away and am too far gone to delete it.

⚠️Warnings: mentions of blood, death, weapons, smoking, maybe 1 instance of cannibalism ( but its more in the sense of revenge rather than a canabalistic reader) (idk man it’s hell if your triggered don’t read 😭) this is really long already so I might just break it up or continue it to make a part 2. I have a LOOOOOOT of references in here to so many things, if you guys can pick up on them leave a comment and I’ll tag list you in my next fic if you want! Or don’t I honestly couldn’t care less it’s just for fun :p

Reader is referred to with afab terms.

Pt2-

================================

• In your life you tried to stay on “the right” path. Your parents raised you right, you tried your hardest to be nice, and where always on your best behavior, but after getting the short end of the stick for too long you kinda… loose it.

• You ended up in hell after a night out partying with some of your most valued clients, when you went to drive yourself home the heel of your stiletto got stuck under the gas pedal, as you tried to pull it out you took your eyes off the road and 💥 BAM 💥 you where hit by a large grocer truck.

•Opening your eyes to a red wasteland, the bright flash of lights and the smell of brimstone flood your senses. Looking down to try and gather your bearings you notice your whole body wasn’t (skn/tn) anymore… it was marble grey?

“Where… where am I?” I mumbled under my breath, trying to gather my surroundings, a bright flashing catches my eyes, a gigantic neon sign in the sky gives me my anwser…

“Welcome to Hell!!!”

“Hell…. I’M DEAD?!!!!” I groaned out through barred teeth and stood to my feet, looking around I saw definite signs, this was Hell alright. A blood red sky, fires everywhere, little sinners running around stabbing and shooting one another.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, ALL MY WORK, MY SHOPPING EMPIRE, MY CLOSET, MY AWARDS, MY EVERYTHING, RAAAAAAHHH!!!” In my anger I grabbed the nearest sinner and threw them to the ground, putting my foot between their shoulder blades and grabbing their arms.

“You’re gonna tell me right now, what the hell is going on, WHY AM I DEAD AND HERE-” I shouted in their ear, seeing blood come out… oh shit I probably burst their ear drum… oh well, I’ve done that plenty of times to my assistants.

“D-d-do you mean, like in hell, or or just this area?” They questioned nervously. To be fair they were a scrawny little thing…

“What in the-“ I paused to look around, then referred back to this little shit “actually HELL are you talking about?”

“W-w-well, you must, *gulp* you must be new here, huh?” It asked with a weary smile and a weak little laugh, probably trying to ease the tension. “Well, down… down here, we uh, we have overlords who- who rule certain areas, we’re in Ms.Leefolt’s t-t-t-territory right now, I mean, our king Lucifer, Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar rule all of hell…”

“Well, that certainly is… intresting.” I smirk and stand up, releasing his arms but not letting my foot off his back. “So these, overlords… are they appointed by your king, or born into or something?” I question with a sharp red nail in between my teeth, thinking…

“No, no ma’am just, just anyone who’s ballsy enough to, to, take over enough territory and have enough demons- sell them their souls in exchange for something. Umm- if it’s not too much of a bother, could you let me go… I- I can feel my ribs crushing under me…” it started wheezing out and trying to get a hand under its chest to place a barrier between their chest and the ground.

“Hm, well if that’s all true, I can’t let some little thing like you going around gossiping about me.” I growled looking down at this freak… pressing my heel into his spine harder.

“No! No please, I won’t say a thing I promise!! Just let me go, please… pleas-“

SPLAT-

“Whoops, my bad, I slipped.” I reasoned, pulling my now bloody leg out of his torso.

“Ohh, eeeeeew eweweweweweweeew, I’ve got bits of his, ugh, lung on my heels.” Flicking away the bits of organ from my shoes, I take a breath and another look around but this time in a planning sense. Overlords huh, well, I’ll just have to see how much this ‘miss leefolt’ likes the taste of arsenic, I wonder when the last time she had a homemade pie was….

• So of course to establish some dominance in my new living arrangement, I gutted that bitch from the inside out. I took her territory, her power, her souls, even her manor. When I went to her office to kill her I found the deed to her house and all the contracts of sinners who gave her their souls in a pretty shittily hidden safe.

• I mean, I had to work so hard to build my life up just for a stupid grocer to end it all, so this is fine… right?

• The years go by and the world changes, you became one of the most powerful and influential overlords in hell, re-establishing your power once held on earth to a business in hell. Rosie and Velvet quickly becoming your closest friends, Velvet in a more business sense and Rosie being your go to gossip gal. Both of you having elegant and refined tastes. You and Husk became friends over talking shit in a casino one night, and remained friends after his downfall. He talks to you about this, radio demon, from time to time but you haven’t heard much of him

Little do you know he knows almost everything about you~

• Your walking around Cannibal Town one day waiting for Rosie to finish a meeting, watching children run around and little carts selling all kinds of body related snacks.

I lost a bit of my sense of surrounding and almost tripped on a kid running around with his friend throwing a head back and fourth.

"Jerermy! Stop playing with your lunch and apologize to that nice lady you almost ran into."

"Sorry miss, I didn't mean too." He said looking down at the head ashamedly, then offering me a piece of the cheek. "Would you like some of this face? It's really good." He looked up at me with an excited look. "Oh thank you, but I'm waiting for lunch with my friend, I'll go to the butcher and get some though, it looks really good." I smiled my pointy teeth at him, patted his head and motioned him back to his mother, she waved to me and I nodded my head back, thinking it was time for Rosie to be done by now.

"My my, with your reputation of anger issues I would assume you would tear that poor child into bits upon realization." A staticky voice spoke behind me, tilting my head back but not my body as I don't know who it is. I look him up and down, his outfit and cane/staff thingy give off quite the powerful impression. "My, mhm, reputation?" I pester raising my eyebrow.

"Ah-hahahaha, My name's Alastor, its quite a pleasure to finally meet you in person." He introduced reaching for the back of my hand to place a kiss. Him saying his name reminded me, I too finally recognized the name. "Oh, Rosie has told me much about you." The radio demon, his names been brought up many times around cannibal town since he frequented their shops and small town locals.

"Oh yes, Rosie is one of my dearest friends" He replied linking our elbows and started walking towards the shop. "Mine as well, she is quite the darling, so let me ask you now, where you just standing there when I got to the park, or where you going to follow me in silence since I left the emporium~" He didn't stutter in his step but my revelation made the air feel a bit more, weary on his side. Reaching into my hand purse I grabbed my lipstick and hand mirror and paused my walk to apply a touch more. Looking just past my lips in the reflection I saw his eyes in the back corner snap to my down, then back up to my eyes with a tight smile. "Well, are you coming? I know Rosie hates to be kept waiting." I snapped it shut and outreached my elbow waiting for him to link his so that we could start the traverse back to Rosie's.

• After our little group luncheon with Rosie, Alastor and you didn't verbally indicate that you were closer in any sense. But physically you swayed like two tree's. Brushing branches back and fourth with the breeze, restless and apart yet labeled as "together"

• You started doing weekly business deals, him acquiring land and souls for you, and all he asked in returns is he uses that land and those souls as he pleases. Which honestly isn't a lot. When he pulls people or their shadows to come help at the hotel- their mostly your people but he always sends them back to whence they came.

• He likes to pretend he doesn't necessarily care for being around you, however he's always looking for time you two can be together, or even thinking of each other. On his radio show he'll mention new shopping, eating, entertainment locations on your turf. He knows you listen when your able to. Sometimes he uses his power to let his station be the only one playing where ever you are. In the car, in a shopping store, you could be sitting in the bathroom and it would get to the point where you can hear it from the vents. Making you roll your eyes and finish your business so you could get to your office to listen to the radio.

• Truth be told... you where falling to his whims as well. Alastor didn't necessarily have "territory" but many places in one area he had influence in and quite often frequented. When you had rips or damage to your very expensive very delicacy clothing you would walk with him to the seamstress, and afterwards you would often get tea or lunch together. Maybe he knows a good diner or two and ya’ll will sit there and eat, then get a milkshake (mostly bc you wanted one, he just indulges to make you happy though he doesn’t care for the cold sweet taste) and drink it through two straws, awwwwwwwwwwwwe!!

• When either of you knew of prestigious events happening around you invite the other to be your plus one. You go shop together to find outfits for the occasion. You started attending overlord meetings together, with yourself sat on the opposite side of Rosie, sending each other glances and touches under the table whenever Rosie wasn't looking or walked away for a brief moment. At the events you stay close together and often stand away from the crowd, whispering and gossiping together, allowing yourself a to drink silly, little do you know how well he can hold his liquor and often will be the one making sure YOU get home. Sometimes you wake up still dressed, like the gentleman he is, and sometimes you’ll wake up in some red pajama set…. Like the gentleman he is, he’s not gonna let you sleep in an uncomfortable outfit. But he’s respectful about it.

• He often send subliminal messages through your radio to help you fall asleep, to push you to coming to see him, to maybe just stay in your town if he knew something really bad was going on outside. His favorite to do is when your falling asleep he’ll play the calmest songs from his time to comfort you as you drift off.

• When he officially asked to court you he compared you to the beautiful crimson of the sky, saying your cheeks where more bright and delightful to gaze at then the morning sky, when it was particularly bright. All kinds of poetic gestures, sending crows to your windows, sending your gifts of bodies with knives in them, and the knives had small notes left for you on some quote from a book you like. Now how he knows those are your favorite books are beyond you…. you don’t talk about your books much but, maybe he’s seen you reading it at some random point in time? Who knows, not you.

• He’s all in all not a bad partner, of course when you want to go out he usually goes along with what you want to do but if there’s something he refuses to do, his claws are sinking into your arms to keep you from dragging him to do it.

• His smile is genuine around you and you adore when he lets you pet his ears~ he’s not that intimate early on in the relationship but when your just sitting on a couch or watching the sun set from somewhere and you just reach over and pet his ears, he is putty in your hands, physically he keeps his compose fairly well but inside he’s willing to do anything to keep you touching his ears, telling himself he would sell YOU his soul if it meant you wouldn’t stop, petting his ears and helping him groom his antlers, don’t even get me started on the tail… oh wait he’s already got something going on with that… well darn… hopefully you will keep accepting his caring actions rather than push them away.

——-STOP reading here if you don’t want to get into the more “story line” of this idea, if you want more of a story KEEP READING——-

• One night some sinner had gotten into your liquor stash and drank himself ditzy, you chased him into an ally way, looking to end his fucking life. Most of those where gifts from clients that most likely had aphrodisiacs and at the time where trying to get down your pants, but he drank from one of the few special bottles Alastor had gifted you and you went ballistic. You ended up catching him and killing him, and taking a tip from Rosie and ripped some of his limbs off, letting yourself indulge in the taste of warm, liquor filled blood. When you came too you realized you didn't know where you had chased him. Now covered in blood, liquor, rain, mud and whatever mess you stepped in on your way over. Seeing the iluminating lights of the sign for the Hazbin Hotel, your only thought was to try and get to Alastor.

*knock knock knock*

*creeeeeeeeeeeeeeek*

"Oh! Oh my gosh, hi! Come in Come in. " An ecstatic girl ushered you inside, making a towel appear seemingly out of nowhere and helping you dry off. "I'm Charlie, whats your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me" I respond trying to shake off my chills, my nose starts to get a bit runny. "Uhm I'm Y/N, I don't mean to sound intrusive- uh is Alastor here?" I ask hesitantly, not wanting to just barge in but after the night I've had I wasn't in too much of a mood for pleasantries.

"Oh yes! Here, why don't you sit at the bar, have some tea or water or something and I'll run up to his radio tower." She sat me down at a bar stool and walked away. The bartender was turned around already whipping me up something.

"So he's got you wrapped up here huh?" I inquired with a smirk, resting my hands under my chin and trying to keep a little composure. His wings ruffled a little bit before he reached for my favorite hell made brand of brandy, my cotten candy brandy, I'm not one for sweets but I love the zing it gives you. The kind where you loose your vision for a good 7 seconds.

"You haven't usually been one to be a stranger, what gives?" Husk asked turning around handing me my drink and a bowl of pretzels.

"Well when I saw you weren't at your usual gambling tables I didn't think to question it, thought you where maybe getting more chips... ooooor hooking up in the chip room.... ooooor selling even MORE of your soul, if that's even possible, maybe like your wings or your feathers or, like your body as a human shield in the next extermination, never thought you'd be here slinging drinks." I shrugged swirling my drinks around the glass before taking a sip.

Before he could respond he took a bit of a step back and growled really low and deep in his throat.

"Ah yes well he owed me a favor and since I took an investment in this hotel I needed a little work on it done." Alastor came up behind me with a warm towel wrapping it around my shoulders as the one Charlie gave me was wrapped around my waist keeping my legs warm... unfortunatly the sinner got caught at a bad time, I was in the middle of 'me time' before bed and was in my good silk nighty. Glad I walked to my office with my fuzzy robe and ballet slippers. I feel really warm and fuzzy, my heads all….. comfy now… is that static coming from Alast-

"Oh deerest your all wet, would you like to come up and I can help you clean up." He asked you shaking the towel on your shoulders helping you sit up. "Oh yes please" you responded looking at him with sad tired eyes.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

I took a sip of the warm tea Alastor had made me and laid back in the bath, taking it all in. I WAS just planning a quiet evening in at home, maybe snack on some treats I got in the Gluttony ring, watch some hells soap operas. Now I’m here, in my beau’s bathroom, relaxing… maybe I can convince him to let me up to his radio tower to listen to his late night show live, oh that would be fun. I wonder what it looks like up there? I’ve only ever seen his actual town house… a little ways away from town-

*CRASH *

“What the fuck?!” I sat up so fast I almost slipped, sitting on my butt… in the tub…. Shit did he spike my tea?

“Alastor? Is everything okay?” I asked loudly. Standing up carefully keeping three points of contact with the tub and the floor. I reached for a different robe he had given me, a soft red fluffy one, with (what I hope is faux ) fur along the collar and wrists.

Walking towards the bathroom door very carefully I cautiously reached for the shiny silver handle. Telling myself it’s okay but feeling a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach, and the handle was the top of the pit…

“Alastor?” I called out again, once more not getting an answer, bringing my hands to my mouth when I heard a large thump out there, trying to keeping my composure… oh what the hell they know I’m here already. I went to turn the handle what the door got pushed in, had I been able to see what happened I would’ve seen Alastor in his demonic form and it probably would’ve scared the actual shit outta me… but NOPE

I went to open the door when it got pushed open and a bright blue flash covered all of my vision and made me feel… kinda tried… but I’m awake, almost like I’m not in my body… it’s… really hard……. To keep my….. keep my eyes …………………………….………open…….

• You collapsed to the floor slowly breathing, in a trance, feeling some sharper claws pick you up bridal style, if you weren’t so dazed out you would see Alastor frozen in time… like a paused TV… unable to get to you, or subdue your captor. You still had enough conscience to hear a muffled voice talking to a phone~

“Yeah we got her… foil chains worke—“

“Get her ba-“

“…. Longer you take the quicker……….. flasher wears-“

• Last thing you could remember hearing before completing falling out was a radio scramble in your brain, the sound going from a hollow scraggly to a tight scraggle- like turning the tv in between stations………

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

AN: WELLLLL WHAT DID YA THINK???? Did you skip to down here or did you read the WHOLE thing. I really hope ya’ll like this, I’m so excited to make part 2, and maybe 3 or 4 depending on how far this goes.

Thank you to anyone who reads this and interacts in any way shape or form!!! Even if it’s just reading :) HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY AND REMEMBER

REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM BUY GOLD BYYYYYYEEEEEE

[oneeyedgrimes]

WILDFLOWER

Summary: You look too much like Beth. Daryl doesn’t know how to handle that.

Cw: reader kills walkers, angst if you squint and read it upside down, a little arguing, a really shit attempt at fluff. Daryl and reader are platonic.( beth and daryl shippers dni)

A.N: I started writing this before Billie’s album came out but this is lowkey the perfect song for this I’m so glad I waited, I also don’t like this so please let me know if you enjoy! 🩵

definitely not proofread lmk if you see any mistakes!

Imagine Daryl sees you for the first time in Alexandria and he just stops dead in his tracks, stares directly at you and he’s just, stunned because, you look too damn much like Beth.

You had the blonde hair that was throw into a messy ponytail and the blue eyes that only got bluer in the sun, but it was the sweater that really shook Daryl, you were wearing the same exact sweater that Beth wore the last time Daryl seen her.

You looked over at him making eye contact with him and you smiled at him with a small wave though it didn’t quite catch him as he was still stuck staring at you. You started to walk towards him and that seemed to bring him back from the daze he was in, he backed away farther with every step you took turning his back towards you walking over to Rick’s house where he was sat on his porch, you didn’t think much of it shrugging your shoulders chalking it up to him just being nervous about being in a new place.

He avoided you or atleast he tried to, he couldn’t look at you without seeing the girl he failed to protect, everytime he saw you holding Judith he saw Beth, walking thru the prison with Judith in her arms hiding and rocking her to sleep and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

He stayed outside of the walls most of the time, you found it weird at first asking yourself why anyone would want to be out there with those things but now you couldn’t be more grateful he was there when he was. You only wanted to learn how to protect yourself like you saw the group do time and time again, so you went outside the walls. It was around 2 am if you had to guess. it was chilly night so you grabbed your sweater putting it on before you climbed over the gate. You had a pocket knife one you borrowed from Glenn, you also have a small pistol that you stole from the pantry just incase though you had no intention to use it knowing it would be too loud. You walked far enough away from Alexandria into the woods when you ran into a two walkers, you were able to kill the first walker but not without a struggle.

You fell to the ground as the rotten corpse fell heavily ontop of you. You tried your hardest to push the walker off of you but the next walker walked fell right ontop of you and knocked your blade out of your hand as you wheezed from the weight of the bodies. You tried pushing the bodies off of you reaching for your blade but it wasn’t enough, the walker on top opened its mouth about to bite you, you turned your head and watched as a arrow went thru the walkers head and the rotten body went limp on top of you, shortly after the arrow was pulled from its head and the weight was lifted off of you as you were pulled up onto your feet a little roughly, You lifted your head and realized it was daryl who’d just saved you from being bitten. You parted your lips about to spew out some excuse and thank him for saving you but was cut off by his rough voice louder than you’d ever heard it before.

“ tha’ hell ya doin’ out here girl? Ya tryna get yurself’ killed?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him as you tried to speak.

“ Daryl I’m sorry I wa-“

“hell you know ya’ ain’t ‘posed ta be out hea’ by yurself” He cut you off his hands flying in the air in protest.

“I just wanted to learn how to protect myself like you and Rick do” you told him your voice quiet careful not to make him more upset.

“ so ya ask someone ta train you, ya don’ come out here by yurself ya almost got bit wha’ gon’ happen then huh” he got closer to you

That’s when you snapped.

“Don’t. You don’t get to sit here and act like you give a shit about me, You don’t even like me. Everyone talks to me except you! You’ve avoided me since you’ve got here Daryl. You treat me like I’m one of these things” you pointed to the walkers on the floor

Daryl froze then, his face hard and his eyes looked distant it was like he was having Deja vu, it’s like he was back at that house arguing with her again. He looked at you and his face was softer and his lips seems to tilt downward at the sides and he didn’t say anything back. Your head tilted in shock but you didn’t have time to say anything before he mumbled something ducking his head

“ what? I can’t hear what you’re saying speak up”

You furrowed your eyebrows and crossed your arms over your chest. He lifted his head and looked at you and you felt like you had whiplash seeing all the anger on his face completely gone replaced with sadness something you’d never seen on Daryl’s face before.

“ you jus’ remin’ me of her,.. of beth n’ I can’t look at you without seeing ‘er. I can’t talk to ya withou’ seein’ tha’ girl I couldn’ save and I can’t go thru tha’ again I can’t not be able to save ya like I..”

He trailed off turning to the side to hide his face chewing on his lip nervously, your own hands dropping from your chest fidgeting with your fingers as you waiting for him to finish

“Like what Daryl “ you asked quietly

“ like I couldn’ save ‘er”

You watched as he fumbled with his fingers, if you were completely honest you were at a loss of words. you’d never seen daryl look so vulnerable you knew you needed to say or do something.

and he stood there watching you watch him. He dropped his head closing his eyes only opening them when he felt arms around him, he wrapped his arms around you not holding you as tightly as he could but you knew the hug meant everything to him.

“ I’m sorry” you knew it wasn’t enough but that’s all you could get out squeezing him tighter

“ I’m so sorry and it’s not your fault, you can’t save everyone daryl even if you try your hardest the world is just too cruel but it’s never your fault”

You said quietly into the hug shortly after you pulled away looking at him wiping a few tears from your own face.

“It’s not your fault daryl it never was it never will be” Daryl didn’t say anything just nodded still chewing at his lip beofr he looked around

“ ‘ts gettin’ late best head back ‘fore somebody wakes up” He stated looking at you, you nodded and started walking next to him. the two of you made it back to Alexandria getting back into the gates not seeing anyone outside, Daryl walked you home making sure you got in safely, you walked up your stairs quietly opening your door walking into your shared house, you turned and just before you closed the door you called out

“Goodnight daryl” You smiled waving at him “night kid” He said back to you his voice raspy with sleep a small smile on his own face.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Tradition and Love🌹

Leon S. Kennedy x reader

A/N:The third treat for Fi's Christmas Market ☃️ is here! Leon is a huge softie in this (what's new) and it's so wholesome 🥺 I hope you enjoy this one <3

~Fi 🐝

Warnings: tw: Love. First ever L-word, sharing family traditions with our baby <3

Word count: 3.2k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

Your laugh echoed through the hallway of your apartment complex as you stumbled into your home with a very grumpy Leon by your side. The snow on your boots was coming off, landing on the floor.

Leon's face was red, and he muttered unintelligible things under his breath. "I-... I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean to do that!" You wheezed, doubling over and holding your stomach.

The laughter had coaxed tears to fall from your lashline. He only glared at you, making you break into another fit of giggles. You had taken a walk on this snowy day, and you might've dragged Leon down with you, making snow angels. On your way back, you had slipped your hand from his and balled up some snow and aimed it right at his back.

Well, you're aim was terrible and unfortunately for your boyfriend, he turned around in the worst possible moment with a puzzled expression on his face, looking for the warmth of your hand in his.

Before you could stop yourself, you threw the snowball and it hit him square in the face. Your first reaction was shock, slapping your hands over mouth, which quickly turned into full bellied laughter when you saw the way his shoulders slumped and he let out a defeated sigh before shaking the snow off his face.

"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't think you'd turn around." You fanned away your tears, trying not to break into laughter again. "I didn't think you'd come at me with the snowball of death." He grumbled, rubbing his face, hoping to warm it up.

You did feel guilty, extremely so, but there was just something about the look on his face and the way his cheeks and nose looked so cute when they were all blushed from the cold, that made you want to do it again.

"I'll warm ya up." You smiled, taking his face in your hands and stroking his cheeks while pressing kisses to the tip of his nose and the corner of his mouth.

A hum rumbled through his chest as he stood before you, slightly bending over to compensate for your height difference. "Better?"

"Almost." He smirked, gently moving your hands from his face to his neck and holding onto your waist. He brushed his nose with yours before placing a gentle kiss to your lips. "I'm much better now, thank you, sweetheart." He grinned, slipping his hands from you.

"I'm glad. Wouldn't want my boy to be cold, hm?" The way you said it was like honey, like a sweet dusted in sugar. With the purest intentions and that irresistible smile on your face that Leon swore would make him go into cardiac arrest one day.

He hoped you didn't catch the way he froze for a split second before moving on and acting like your words didn't just set aflame a raging fire in his heart. Leon cracked a smile at the warm feeling in his chest. Finally, after all of it, he knew he was cared for and loved.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Later that day, you were lounging on the couch, Leon's head was resting in your lap as you were gently running your fingers through his blonde locks. This would be your first Christmas together. A holiday you cherished and held so close to your heart, you would now spend with your lover. Although, love was really an understatement of what you were feeling for Leon. It went so much deeper than words could describe, rooting its way deep into every crevice of your heart.

"Lee, I thought since this is our first Christmas together, we could share some of our family traditions and do them together? If you want to, of course." You smiled down at him softly, caressing his face when he turned his head to look at you.

"I, uh, I don't really have any." He said with a half-hearted smile. You could see that this affected him deeply. The way he tensed in your hold or how he avoided meeting your gaze. A small frown settled on your lips.

"Well, I'd love to share some of mine with you. And we can always make our own, right?"

He chuckled softly, turning fully on his back. "I guess we can. What are some of these traditions?" He asked softly, taking on of your hands from his hair and gently holding it. He did that quite often, but it never managed to stop butterflies from erupting in the pit of your stomach.

"One of them," you began, still stroking his hair, "is throwing a pomegranate on the ground so it breaks. It's good luck for the new year. It's a pretty simple one, but I'd love to do it with you."

"This is not a trick to trap me in the Underworld with you, is it?" He questioned suspiciously. You let out a laugh, throwing your head back.

"No, silly. I wouldn't need to trick you. You'd come with me willingly." You teased.

"Damn right I would. Can't leave my girl alone in a world full of dead people, can I?"

"My gallant hero." You giggled, making a proud smirk appear on Leon's face.

"Downside, it needs to be on Christmas eve for the luck to work, so you're gonna have to wait a little." You looked down at him with a somewhat sorry expression, telling him about these traditions and then making him wait.

"But, I have another one that we could do today!" You announced with a grin and you swear you saw his eyes light up. Even just a little.

"I'm all ears, sweetheart."

"We always called it a 'Light walk'. As the name suggests, we take a walk around the neighborhoods at night and look at all the lights and decorations that people have set up. It's gonna be even better because it snowed. What do you think?" You pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

"I think,"he started, getting up from his place in your lap and settling down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "that sounds perfect." He ended it with a whisper close to your ear before kissing your cheek. With a wide smile, you cuddled closer to his side.

"Just don't throw a snowball in my face again, alright?"

"I'll think about it." You grinned.

"Minx."

"You love me."

He hummed in response, letting himself fall on top of you. Leon buried his face in your chest. You were tied down. There was no way you would move now. Not that you wanted to.

"And you love me. Which is why you're gonna let me take a nap on my favorite pillow." He mumbled, eyes falling shut. You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"I'll wake you when the lights are on." You whispered lovingly, tracing patters on his back. The two of you sunk into the softness of the couch, enveloped by the warm blanket that was your love.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The sun had set, and you were out and about with Leon. Hand in hand you were walking down the snowy lanes of your neighborhood, illuminated by the plethora of Christmas lights your holiday enthusiastic neighbors had put up. You could see the faintest hint of stars speckled on the indigo night sky, accompanied by the glow of the moon.

"You look beautiful in the moonlight." Leon broke you out of your silence, his voice was soft, and the underlying tone of adoration was hard to miss. "Thank you, baby. So do you." You smiled sweetly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

To say Leon was caught off guard would've been an understatement. He'd never been called beautiful before. He didn't know what to feel. Flattered, shy, embarrassed?

"I- um.. Thank.. you?" He stuttered, his cheeks red. He quickly looked away and cleared his throat.

"No need to be shy. You are pretty. The prettiest, actually."

"Baby-"

"The prettiest of the prettiest." You giggled, seeing him swallow. You couldn't get enough of him like this, the stoic and cold Leon Kennedy was blushing because you called him pretty.

"I think that title goes to you." He smirked. Seemed like he got a hold of his cockiness again. Now, it was your turn to be all flustered.

"Hey, why are you turning this on me-"

"The prettiest girl I've ever seen." He said lowly, his hands stopping you from walking any further as they firmly grabbed your waist. Your eyes widened before a small pout settled on your lips.

"Shut up and watch the lights!" You huffed, still very obviously flustered. Leon laughed before taking a hold of your hand again and continuing your way around the neighborhood.

Some houses had a string of lights or two running along them, others were completely decked in bright, blinking lights and obnoxious inflatable Santas and snowmen. Doors and windows were adorned by green garlands with red ornaments as well as delicate golden decorations.

One of the first houses you'd passed was decorated in every color, cheesy and somewhat tacky decor littered the front yard and the house. A long cable ran across the yard, powering a projector, which made little snowflakes happily dance over the side of the house. "Jesus, those lights are burning holes into my retinas." You complained, holding a hand in front of your eyes to soothe the sting the blue light inflicted on you.

"I think the Santa in swim trunks and a cocktail makes up for it, though." Leon grinned, gesturing to the inflatable Santa that was slightly swaying in the breeze, a pair of sunglasses on his face and a very classic cocktail in a coconut shell in his hand.

"That's not any good if I'm blind, Leon!"

The next house was quite the opposite of the obnoxiously, retina-burning decorated place you'd seen just moments ago. It was so elegantly lit up, very subtle stars and reindeer sculptures were placed in a scene in front of the house. It was eye catching, to the say the least. The homeowner had very obviously put a lot of effort into carefully arranging their decorations. The soft light emitted from the lights cast a golden shimmer on the blanket of snow covering the grass.

There was a big tree as well, dusted in white flakes. A delicate string of lights was wrapped around it, with a beautiful star at the top. A very classic and chic approach to Christmas decorations.

"I like this one. Reminds me of how you decorate." Leon said quietly before cracking a small smile and glancing over the sweet reindeer sculptures. The golden glow looked like a sparkling treasure in his blue eyes. A sea of emotions that was yours to discover. "M'glad you like how I decorate." You smiled softly, admiring his side profile while your arm was hooked into his.

"I like everything you do." Leon had the gentlest look on his face. His brows were pulled together in admiration. He did like how you decorated. It was so you. Regardless, you'd asked for his opinion and thought, which now made it uniquely us as Leon had called it, making your heart skip a beat. Us really had a nice ring to it.

"Look," he pointed to a doe and buck standing next to eachother, "It's us." He chuckled. The two light figures were placed under the shelter of the tree, intwined in an affectionate manner.

"Aw, Leon!" Tiny tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes as you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

"That's the loveliest thing anyone has ever said to me." You whispered, the smile on your face evident in your voice.

"I can say something even lovelier, you know." Leon spoke softly, his arms holding you against him. "Hm, what?" You asked curiously, hiding your face in his warm chest to hide from the cold. He gently tilted your head up to look at him. Leon was holding you so softly, like you were a delicate glass ornament.

"I love you."

Holy shit. Your eyes widened and your mouth slightly fell agape as you processed what he had said. You hadn't said the dreaded L-word yet. Not in a million years had you expected him to say it first. You could feel your heart swell as if it would jump from your ribcage any second and let itself be cradled in Leon's loving embrace.

You snapped out of your lovestruck trance when you saw him getting antsy. His brows were slightly scrunched together, the corners of his mouth dropped slightly, and he began stroking his thumb over your jaw to distract himself. He was scared shitless.

You weren't saying or doing anything. Was he moving too fast? But he couldn't hold it in anymore, no matter how hard he tried. He had never said this to anyone. Never been this vulnerable around anyone but you. His chest was constricting with anxiety. Leon's thoughts were running amok, conjuring all kinds of different scenarios. Like, what if-

"I love you too."

The heavy Boulder that lay on his chest was shattered by the softness of your voice. He could see the sheen of tears in your eyes and how your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as to not break into a fit of excitement.

Leon let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. Without another word, he pulled you flush against his chest and laid his head in the crook of your neck, smiling against your skin.

"I love you. Let's go home." He whispered, pressing a kiss just below your ear.

The snow accompanied the two of you as you walked back to your warm home. Leon pampered you with kisses and sweet murmurs through the rest of the evening, and you held him as he fell asleep, telling him just how much you truly loved him.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"Sweetheart, I know this is important to you, but you're holding up the aisle and it's in the middle of the Christmas rush-"

"I almost got it, I swear! I just need to find the perfect one." You mumbled, standing in the produce aisle. Your field of vision was entirely red as you scanned through the piles of pomegranates. It was the 23rd, and you still needed the fruit for tomorrow evening. You had done the remaining holiday shopping days before, but the pomegranate needed to be fresh.

And here you were, biting at the inside of your cheek while being bumped by stressed parents and shopping carts as you tried to pick out the perfect fruit. It needed to be perfect.

"Honey-"

"I almost got it!" You said nervously, glacing over to see the pushing look of your boyfriend and the displeased faces of many holiday-stressed people.

"C'mon, where are you.." you muttered to yourself, eyes flitting over the shiny heaps of fruit. Your gaze landed on a slightly lumpy pomegranate, it looked vaguely like a heart. That's the one, you thought.

This was your perfect. It wasn't about looking for the roundest, most symmetrical or shiny one. It was about the one that spoke to you. It was unique, you liked it. Your hand quickly darted forward and grabbed it before slithering through the crowds of people to get back to Leon.

"Got it!" You announced proudly, showing off the pomegranate to Leon.

"Good. It's perfect." He smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. He gently guided you through the store with a hand gently placed on your lower back.

"That grandma behind you was about to jump at your throat." He chuckled.

"She's just jealous I got the best pomegranate."

"I'm sure that's it, Babe."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Leon almost stumbled down the stairs of your apartment building, that's how eagerly your were dragging him with you. You were all cuddled up for the cold, in one hand you held the fruit you had acquired yesterday, and in the other you tightly held his.

"Slow down, Baby." He said, trying not to trip and fall into you.

"It's so exciting, hurry!"

He had to admit, although there was the hazard of falling down the stairs and spending Christmas in the hospital, your unbridled excitement made him smile. He sometimes doubted whether you liked, not loved, him.

He knew you loved him with all that you were, but did you like him as a person? He felt ashamed of those thoughts, he didn't want to doubt you. You were his everything, his world, his light. But the way you were so excited to do this with him made the doubt fizzle away. All you'd do was throw a fruit on the ground, yet you acted like it would be the event of the century.

It made his heart beat stronger, he felt giddy, like a teenager. He never had the chance to have a classic high-school sweethearts romance, but you made your relationship feel exactly like that, and he loved you that much more for it.

The cold hit his face when you stormed out the front door with him in tow. You picked a nice spot, not too secluded but also not too in the way as to not make as big of a mess.

"Alright. Okay. Are you ready?" You asked him, holding out the pomegranate. The puzzled look on his face prompted you to explain further.

"I want you to do it."

"But it's your tradition."

"The person who breaks it gets a little extra luck. I want you to have it." You smiled softly, pressing the fruit into his palm.

He would address the chaos of emotions inside of him later, for he feared if he did now he wouldn't be able to hold back. He was caught off guard. You wanted him to have the extra luck.

You could've kept that to yourself, hell, even if you had told him before he still would've encouraged you to be the one to break it. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to ignore the sting of tears in his eyes. "Are- Are you sure?"

You nodded encouragingly, giving his wrist a gentle squeeze. You pulled your hands away, giving him room to throw the pomegranate, but he gentle grabbed your hand and placed it on the other side of the fruit.

"Together?" He had a hopeful smile on his face.

"Together."

With both of you having a hold of the pomegranate, you threw it on the ground. It hit the concrete and cracked into two halves, some of the seeds spilling out on the ground.

Leon took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as you both watched the lights reflect in the crimson flesh of the fruit. The little seeds shimmered like rubies.

"You think we'll have double extra luck now?" Leon smirked. You giggled, squeezing his hand.

"I don't know. I guess we'll have to see just how lucky we get, hm?"

"I couldn't get any luckier." He said softly, pulling you into him and pressing a passionate kiss on your soft lips. They fit perfectly against his, moving in sync. Your arms wrapped around him as he slightly dipped you, making you gasp. He swallowed the sound and could feel you smiling against his lips.

"I love you, Leon."

"I love you ,too, Baby."

The glittery snowflakes cascaded upon the two of you, painting a perfect scene. Your hearts were full, so were your arms. Of eachother, the one you held so dear. The moon and stars shone down on you, sealing your love.

You were filled with warmth and joy, but most importantly, with Tradition and Love.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

I hope you like it, @vampkennedy <3

[lovelynim]

Intruder countermeasures

Honkai: Star Rail - Sampo & Svarog (feat. Clara)

A/N: First out of two commissions for no other than the @otomiyaa herself! Thank you so much for the trust and support, Ginny, it means a lot to me to write a commission for you!

Summary: Someone triggered the alarm system inside the Robot Settlement. Now, who could it be and how are they going to deal with them?

Word count: 1913 words

Just how hard could it possibly be?

Get into the Robot Settlement. Check.

Find the pieces and gears the client requested. Check.

Steal Borrow them for an indefinite amount of time. Check.

Get out. ….

Well, it seems like the good, old Sampo Koski found a nice challenge for himself this time, huh.  

Against what he expected from a bunch of old machines running around, the security in the Robot Settlement - especially around that big, scary manor where the little girl in red lived - was… hard to crack, to say the least. It took him a couple hours studying the best route to get in - for which he was definitely going to charge extra.

Now, if Sampo could figure out how to get in, then what’s the problem? Well, get out. Who could imagine that tinhead would have alarms against invaders all around the house? All the sorts of robots were patrolling the place, from the silliest, smallest ones to the big, threatening ones. 

Sampo, hiding behind a conveniently placed wall, peeked at the grounds in front of the manor and watched the robots walking left and right, left and right… Damn, Svarog was really prepared for anything, huh? No opening in sight, maybe it was time for Sampo to wander a little more. Maybe he would even bump into something valuable interesting enough.

Walking a little deeper into the site, Sampo carefully followed a nearby why to the zone behind the manor. Luck seemed to be on his side as no robot was spotted patrolling that part of the settlement so far. 

“My my… what do we have here..?” Sampo muttered quietly, peeking again as he reached another safe spot. Svarog, the so-called and feared tinhead, and the little girl in red, Clara. Maybe this was some sort of playground for the girl, Sampo thought, still not sure what kind of thing she did with all those gears and screws scattered around, but who understands kids these days anyway?

The most logical thing to assume was that Svarog drove her here while the machinery did the patrol on the other side of the manor. Such a good guardian, huh?

Sampo leaned against the nearby wall, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead. If he could make it past those two, he would be out of the manor’s ground - but why did it have to be those two?

He sighed, feeling defeated by Svarog’s security system. A loud, long sigh that slowly dragged itself out of his throat. Also, a mistake.

As soon as the air left his mouth, Sampo could hear a faint metallic sound coming from where he last saw Svarog and Clara standing. However, when he turned his eyes back to said spot, they were nowhere to be seen.

Uh oh.

“Target located,” Svarog’s heavy, deep robotic voice announced seconds before his hand crashed into the wall. Sampo widened his eyes as the hit missed his face by barely a couple inches - he didn’t even want to think about what that would’ve felt like if it did land. Well, he didn’t have time either.

Thanks to Gepard’s endless chasings, Sampo managed to develop quite the agility when it came to avoiding blows - still, this was not the best scenario to put them into test. “W-woah, careful that, you could hurt someo-wOAH!”

Sampo gasped as Svarog almost hit him again. “Target ‘Threat Index’ undetermined. Stay back, Clara,” the robot commanded, his free hand in front of the girl.

“I-I’m not a threat!” Sampo wheezed, desperately waving his hands in front of his chest, hoping it would appease the angry robot dad. “I’m just your good ol’ pal, S-Sampo Koski!” He spoke in a hurry, his words barely understandable under the fear in his voice.

Svarog didn’t seem to be convinced, though. Before Sampo could even have another chance to speak, he swayed his hand at him again and, this time, managed to push him against the nearby wall. Svarog’s palm was large enough to pin Sampo’s body against the surface behind him, making the mercenary gasp - half in pain and half in shock at how fast Svarog could be despite how big he was.

“Commence annihilation.”

…What?

Sampo widened his eyes as he saw Svarog lift his other hand and spread his fingers. The cannon within his palm charged at an alarming rate and, no matter how much he kicked or squirmed, he could free himself.

Was this the end of the good ol’ Sampo Koski?!

As Sampo prepared himself for the worst and closed his eyes shut, all he could hear besides the machinery in Svarog’s body running was a panicked, yet firm command.

“Svarog, s-stop it!” Clara pleaded, tugging at Svarog’s leg. And so he did.

“Clara, stand back. I couldn’t confirm the intruder’s intentions. It can be dangerous,” Svarog explained calmly, turning his attention to the girl, but making sure to not ease his grip in the slightest.

As stubborn as her robot dad, Clara shook her head. Her cheeks were a little flushed, as if she was just about to cry. “N-no! I don’t want to see you hurting someone!”

Sampo nearly cried along with the girl as he heard those words. Yay, he was saved!

“The intruder could harm you, Clara. I can not let them go,” Svarog insisted, his head turning back to Sampo with that threatening, but faint red light coming from his ‘eye’. “They need to be ‘taught a lesson’, so they won’t come back.”

“C-can’t we teach him some other way?” Clara muttered, still clinging at Svarog’s leg with teary eyes. “Without hurting him?”

Svarog didn’t answer and, if his face could express emotions like humans, he would probably look half confused, half concerned. Sampo pawed at the large, metallic hand keeping him place, but Svarog didn’t lower his guard yet. “In what way should we deal with the intruder? What do you propose, Clara?”

“Hmm, m-maybe…” Clara hummed, looking at Sampo and then back at Svarog. Something that would leave the message, but wouldn’t hurt? “T-tickle him!” She beamed, remembering the times when the kids in Boulder Town would decide their the one to lead the Moles’ squad through a tickle fight. Surely adults could solve their problems like that, without needing violence, right?

Sampo, on the other hand, didn’t look at the suggestion as brightly as Clara did. Svarog wouldn’t consider something like that, right?

Wrong.

Carefully wrapping his fingers around his body, Svarog picked Sampo up and brought him down to the ground. With his massive strength, pinning both his arms above his head with a single hand wasn’t a big deal.

“E-eh? Wait a second, C-Clara, darling, can you tell your d-”

“Understood,” Svarog sadly coldly, his attention turning back to the man he had pinned underneath him. Sampo gulped.

Getting tickled certainly sounded better than getting blasted into pieces, but Sampo wasn’t sure if he should be thankful yet. Did Svarog even know how to tickle someone? Or would he have his bones crushed one by one by the giant robot dad?

The answers for those questions soon came into his mind. Clara watched attentively as Svarog moved his free hand and began to knead Sampo’s side and stomach. A crooked smile took place in Sampo’s face while he started to squirm and kick his legs. Yes, it tickled. And tickled a lot.

“B-be careful, mr. Svarog. Just tickle, don’t hurt him,” Clara instructed and Sampo nearly told her to shut up, but the last bits of sense he had told him to keep quiet.

“Understood,” was Svarog’s simple answer as his cold, metallic fingers continued to prod and wiggle against Sampo’s body, testing out his reactions and studying where it would work the best. “Target’s heartbeat frequency increased. Suspicion: embarrassment.”

“H-hehey! That’s- agh, c-cohohome on!” Sampo grunted, his cheeks quickly turning red as he fought the urge to laugh with all the bits of strength he had. His eyes widened as Svarog moved his hand down to his hips. “W-waitwaitwahaHAHA, NOHOHOHOH!!”

Clara nearly jumped from her spot as Sampo bursted in loud, uncontrolled laughter. Well, that was the sign that Svarog was, indeed, listening to her, right? “I-I think you got him, mr. Svarog!”

“Target’s reaction: positive,” Svarog announced, his analysis bringing new results into this system and allowing him to tell which method worked - or, better saying, tickled - the best.

There barely was any room for Sampo to complain about the coldness of Svarog’s hand or about how rough a touch or two were. As expected of a machine, his tickling was meticulous and every move felt like it was calculated. From the way he kneaded into his sides, to the repetitive pokes all around his stomach and, of course, to the squeezing and pinching over his exposed waist and hips.

It was not like Sampo could see it clearly, but Clara had a relaxed look on her face. Svarog managed to find a way to deal with the intruder without harming him. How amazing! Still, all Sampo could feel and see was an ominous figure that was surely going to tickle him into his very death. 

Choking between a laugh and the other, Sampo planted his heels into the ground. With teary eyes and flushed cheeks, he shook his head left and right, thrashing as much as Svarog’s pinning allowed him to. “PLEHEHEHEASE!!” He wheezed, the air barely making it into his lungs before he laughed again. “I’M SOHOHORRY!! I SWEHEHEAR!!”

Svarog didn’t even consider those words, as if they were unknown to his system. He looked to the side, gazing at Clara. “Unable to determine if the target is lying or not. Heart rate too unstable to consider. Your assistance is required, Clara,” Svarog pointed out, almost casually, while his hand continued to wreak havoc.

“M-me?” She chirped, clenching her little hands in front of her chest. “You want me… to help you t-”

“No,” Svarog promptly interrupted, not giving her a chance to even consider it, “it can be dangerous, don’t approach the target,” his eye then turned back to Sampo, that now terrifying, but dim red light pointing straight into his laughing face. “Do you believe the target tells the truth?”

“I D-DO! AHAhaha, plehehease!! I’m truhuhully sohoHOHORRY!!” Sampo cackled, having to almost squeeze his words out of his throat to make sure they would be heard through all the laughter.

“A-ahm, I… I think he did learn his lesson,” Clara smiled, a sense of getting the job done filling her heart. “You can stop now, mr. Svarog. Thank you,” she said, nodding shyly.

Again, listening to Clara and Clara only, Svarog stepped back. Sampo’s body went limp on the cold floor, his head spinning as he still had to come down from his high. “T-tha- ahh… t-thank you… I t-though… haaah, I was d-done fohohor…”

“Warning: further attempts of trespassing will be punished accordingly. Leave at this moment, intruder,” Svarog ordered, coldly, taking his place in front of Clara and holding his hand out in front of her.

“I-I will! I swear!” Sampo cried, prostrating himself in front of Svarog and Clara, hoping to convince them he was going to ‘behave’ this time. When the two didn’t oppose his plea, Sampo understood it was the time to flee as fast as he could.

The components his client wanted? Screw those, he would try to look for a phony to deliver instead.

Stealing from the Robot Settlement? Never again!

[lewkwoodnco]

Ok would you consider writing more for George?? (shamelessly on an Ali kick atm if you couldn’t tell, this is @bobbys-not-that-small). If I was in the LnCo universe I think I’d be a librarian with little or no talent because I’m too jumpy and scared to be an agent. I’d wanna be a librarian who sometimes bends the rules for the agents who stay really late researching by bringing them a cup of tea or a snack 😊

After Hours - George Karim x Reader

"Did-did you just...spritz me? Like a cat?"

"Yes. Now shoo."

He stared at the colourful mosaic of water droplets coating his lenses stubbornly. She wasn't about to get rid of him that easily.

"Actually, I quite liked that."

a/n: asjfhfjlfh thank youuu to @bobbys-not-that-small for helping me get out of my writing slump!! this palate cleanser was exactly what I needed <3 decided to try smth new with the presentation of my fics wooooo but am having issues with the keep reading divider so this might be a little inconvenient to scroll past :( alsoooo may have gotten a little carried away here hehehe woops

warnings/tropes: snippy George (is there rlly any other kind tho) needs his biscuits, mild angst, happy ending, slight enemies to almost-lovers, fluff!

word count: 2.7k

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Lockwood was standing over the kettle in the kitchen, half-asleep. Lockwood & Co.’s latest case was a bit more complex than they were used to, which meant that George needed a few extra days to properly research it. That meant that his and Lucy’s sleep schedule had started to settle down into one that was more typical - one where Lockwood was struggling to stifle his yawns in the middle of the night.

He hears some sounds coming from the hallway, and registers them half a second later. He picks up the nearest weapon he can find, a whisk, and tries to call out to the intruder, but his throat is so dry it’s more of a wheeze. The kitchen door inches open, and Lockwood poises to attack, before he pauses and squints at the figure in the doorway.

“George?”

George walks in, putting down his bag and jacket on one of the dining table chairs. “Thought you’d be asleep, Locky.”

“What’s this, a midnight stroll?”

“Sure.”

Lockwood blinked at the kitchen clock blearily. “It’s a hour to dawn.” As George shuffles about the kitchen, fixing his own cup of tea, a thought flits through his sleep-addled brain. “Hang on.” He opens his eyes even further, taking in how fully dressed George is, and starts putting two and two together. “Don’t tell me you’ve only just returned from the Archives.”

“Your hand’s in the milk jug. Again.”

Lockwood glances down and swears. George slips out of the kitchen with Lockwood's tea and biscuit, and he's just awake enough to notice.

“Hey, hey, it’s not your turn on the biscuit roster!”

But George was too content to care much about that. He had finally gotten a satisfactory day's worth of research which quelled the buzzing in his brain, if only for a couple of hours. As he settled into bed, his thoughts wandered to the librarian from earlier.

He had been so engrossed in his reading that he didn't notice anyone was standing over him until the sharp tap on his shoulder. When he did look up, he flinched terribly from the shock. In all fairness, she had been extremely apologetic.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to let you know that we're closing soon."

George slowly scanned the library, only just realising that the Archives had completely emptied. It was just the two of them and their voices echoing up to the high ceilings of the room. He half-formulated a response for a moment, but then realised this was his ideal situation, and turned back to his book.

There was another insistent tap on his shoulder and he glanced up to see a firmer set to the librarian's features.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear enough just now. We're closed."

"Okay," he murmured, still half-absorbed in his book. She sighed exasperatedly.

"Look, Mr. ..." she trailed off, and George stared back at her unhelpfully. She spied his name scrawled at the top of his notes, which he was too slow to shift out of sight. "...Karim."

"You're good at reading upside down."

"Thank you, it's one of my many talents. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I still have to ask you to leave."

"What if I said you were really good at reading upside down?"

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Mr. Karim."

"Please, you don't need to address me by my surname." If the reddening of her face was any indication, he was right in guessing that he hadn't been able to snag his first name from the sheet.

"...I'm good, but not that good. My point, Mr. Karim, is that you have to leave."

He hummed noncommitally. She frowned. “Now you’re just being mean.”

George fought the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes.

“What can I say? You make it so easy.”

"I'll let you borrow an extra book."

"Hmm."

"Two extra books."

After that, they went around in circles for a while, before she stormed of. As the sun continued to set, she started switching off the lights. Even in the dark, he could feel her eyes burning into the back of his skull. He pulled out a few candles and lit them, just in time to illuminate her scowl as she irritatedly walked past him. She returned from her desk a moment later, her face stony.

"I'll ban you from the library if you don't leave right now."

"By all means." Her mouth shrivelled like she had just tasted something bitter, and he knew he had called her on her bluff.

"I'll revoke your borrowing privileges."

"Yes, because not letting me take books home is exactly how you'd get me to leave the library."

"I'll...I'll set the fantasy section visitor on you."

He didn't even look up from his book. "Give him my regards."

He paid dearly for his tongue-in-cheek a few minutes later, when he was smacked by a puff of icy mist, sudden enough to make him splutter with shock.

"Did-did you just...spritz me? Like a cat?"

"Yes. Now shoo."

He stared at the colourful mosaic of water droplets coating his lenses stubbornly. She wasn't about to get rid of him that easily.

"Actually, I quite liked that."

"You...liked that." She echoed him tonelessly.

He tried to muster up as much dignity as he could while feeling like his face was about to freeze off. "Mhm. Refreshing. Might go as far as to invite you to do it again."

She scoffed, slamming the spray bottle down in surrender.

"Fine. You win. But if you set anything on fire, so help me I will- hang on, I've got a lantern in here somewhere." With that, George watched her drift away distractedly, still mildly damp. He wondered how long he had to wait before asking for something to dry his glasses with.

For the next week, the librarian tolerated his odd hours, and George liked to think that she was coming around. She found out his first name from his library pass the next day, he found out how far he could push it with the late hours. Really, they were almost friends. He liked to think that especially after the night where he got hit in the face by something in a brown paper bag.

"Accidental pastry delivery," the librarian was saying, over the crinkle of the paper bag. "They wouldn't take it back and I've already stuffed myself the best I could."

George peered into the bag to see a deliciously flaky tart and a soft, powdered doughnut. He looked up to see her walking away, and was momentarily distracted by her odd shuffle. It took him a moment to realise she had a slight limp, as if she was carrying some dead weight. But when she returned, holding a tea tray and a viciously folded notebook, all thoughts about her limp flew out of his head. He wouldn't have thought to find such charmingly delicate fine china in a library, of all places.

"How much sugar do you take in your tea?" George blinked, still processing the pastries. She set a cup of tea in front of him, and he decided that it had just the right amount of sugar. She sat down opposite him and poured her own cup of tea, before scratching away at what he could now see was a crossword puzzle.

"Crosswords?"

She arched an eyebrow. "There's only so many books you can read in a day."

"Yes, but...crosswords?"

"You wouldn't believe how fun they are. For instance, right now I'm looking at a six-lettered word for 'nuisance.'"

That shut him up rather quickly. But over the next couple of nights, accident or otherwise, she always joined him for a cup of tea and a little treat once everyone else had cleared out.

And so a rhythm was established. On most nights, their limited conversation rarely strayed away from the tired topics that were which pastry he wanted, how late it was getting, and if he knew a five-letter word of only consonants for 'the immature form of an insect.' But he always wondered about her on the walk home, though he could never quite figure out how to ask. It was on a particularly uninteresting night that he got the answers to these half-formed questions.

He was doing his research, as usual, and she was sitting opposite him, pouring over a crossword puzzle, as usual, when he realised he needed a different volume. She barely stirred as he left the table, silently scratching away at the rough paper. Her stock still image lingered in his mind’s eye. There was something off about her today. She was a little more distracted than normal, and the abnormality unpleasantly reminded George of how little he knew about her. She was always just...there, hovering about, no matter how late it was. Didn't she have a family waiting up for her?

He returned to find her eyes fixed on his scribbled half-thoughts, as if intently deciphering his upside-down scrawls. She jerked back as he set the book down, eyes flitting nervously, almost guiltily.

"You took your time. Thought you got lost back there."

He opened his book with a deliberate slowness, as she fiddled with her pen. When he didn't respond, the forced cheeriness in her voice faded, as her eyes drifted back to his papers.

"Terribly exciting, isn't it? Being an agent."

"S'pose."

"I wanted to be one, when I was younger. Much younger."

The edge to her voice was subtle but unmistakable. He didn't like the way it grated unpleasantly against his ears.

"So how'd you end up here?"

"My talent never really blossomed. Good thing, too; I'd be all thumbs with a rapier anyway."

He frowned. "Hang on. How much can you see, exactly?"

"It's like...like a mist? Sometimes I miss them entirely."

"But you stay out so late past curfew."

"I know. I just try to walk home quickly enough. It's worked out so far."

George glanced at the flaky tart and the repulsively sugary, deep red jam glistening up at him, almost quivering in the flickering candlelight. His appetite was suddenly feeling a little funny.

"Nymph."

"Hm?"

"Five letters, no vowels. Nymph."

She glanced at her crossword, giving a small hum of approval. "So it is."

"But you already knew that."

"Did I?"

Her voice took on a mildly dispirited tone, but it was enough to signal her fading interest in the conversation. His prodding felt frustratingly futile - even now, there was so much of her shrouded in the shadows, shrouded in mystery. He didn't know what to do, or what to say, and he didn't like it. Suddenly, he wasn't sure how much he believed her, something she seemed to pick up on.

"Look, I'm too much of a live wire to be an agent. Can't we just leave it at that?"

"It’s getting late,” he said softly, and the words felt foreign on his tongue, for someone who never cared about the time. His voice sounded distant even to his own ears. But she had already returned to her crossword.

Days passed, and the awkward night was forgotten. They continued growing closer and getting more familiar with each other, if at a snail's pace. One night, she had used up the last teabag for George's tea and waved off his insisting that she have the tea, instead opting for a drink that looked suspiciously alcoholic.

As George expected, she was a little past tipsy by the time they were done, and he lingered behind worriedly as she fumbled to lock up. He walked with her a little further than he normally did, occasionally tipping her upright when she got too giggly.

"Where did you say you lived, again?" George tried to keep his tone nonchalant, hoping she wouldn't realise she never said it a first time. She vaguely pointed ahead, speaking thickly, but he couldn't quite decipher her slurred words. Rolling her eyes exasperatedly, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed her face flush against his as she repeated herself, gesturing wildly with her other arm.

"Two blocks down, then a left, walk another block, then a right, and it's the third door on your right. 51 South Street. There's honeysuckle all over the door, you can't miss it."

She tilted her head sideways, lips brushing his cheekbone. He didn't dare to breathe.

"I can take it from here. Don't think I'll be forgetting this in the morning."

She let go of him as smoothly as she hap clasped herself to him, walking ahead briskly with only minimal stumbling.

"Night, Georgie!" Yes, she must be quite well past tipsy. He watched her till she turned the corner, and almost reluctantly turned to walk home himself.

"Where's Y/N?"

George didn't mean to be impolite, but when there was a different librarian handing him his day pass the following week, he didn’t know how else to respond.

“Miss L/N’s called in sick this morning. But I’d be happy to help you with any of your Archives needs.”

The Archives felt frustratingly foreign that day. He hadn’t realised how comforting her lingering had been, to feel rather than see her wandering through the aisles just feet from him. The Archives’ closing was enough to chase him out a few hours later.

He started on the beaten path back to 35 Portland Row, before pausing. He turned, looking at the roads behind him, softly lit up by the fading rays of the setting sun. She couldn’t live that far. Just a block, or maybe two, then…was it a right?

Haltingly, he walked forward, looking this way and that amongst the tall houses which were all beginning to look worryingly identical. But she was right. 51 South Street did stick out with the heavily perfumed buttercup-yellow honeysuckle framing the door. That, and the girl smoking on the front steps of the house.

She glanced up from the gravel she was staring at as he drew closer, staring at him with cloudy eyes until she finally seemed to register him.

“…George! You’re - what? Did something happen?”

“You tell me.”

She fiddled with the ends of her hair with her free hand distractedly. “Oh. I’m alright. My leg was feeling a little bad in the morning, so I called in sick.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

“I’m not. It just helps with the pain.”

“For now. For an hour. You know it’s only making it worse in the long run.”

She either coughed or laughed, he couldn’t tell. He watched her breath smoke like sighs, in silence.

"I used to be an agent. And I wasn’t half bad at it, either. But I tripped up, once…lost half the nerves in my left leg. After the ghost touch, my Sight-” she pressed a hand to her eyelids, trembling for something grieved. “My Sight…it was never the same again. I tried to stay on for a while, but it was so difficult, and so painful for everyone…so I left. I couldn’t do anything with my hip connected to this…dead weight.” She tapped her cigarette experimentally, ash snowing over her shoe. “I’m dead weight, Karim.”

He wanted to comfort her, but he was never the comforting type.

“You miss it.”

“I do. I love the Archives, but…I feel like I’m part of everyone’s life, except for my own. I don’t feel like my own person. I felt so…alive as an agent. Like I’d burst into flames at any minute, as if I had that much more life which the visitors didn’t have.”

George knew the type. He lived with the type.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad you didn’t. Burst into flames, I mean.”

She half smiled into the palm she was resting her chin on. “Aww, Georgie.”

George coughed awkwardly, starting to drift away now that she was clearly feeling better. He recognised that teasing look on her face a little too well. “Okay, you’re alright now.”

“Did you oh so miss me today?”

“That’s enough out of you.”

“Not getting fond of me, are you Georgie?”

The back of his neck flamed red. She was definitely alright now.

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[olichat-reads]

Mrow | Part Five (finale)

Bakugou x roomate!reader

Summary: back human?? fucking finally??

A/n: WE'RE HERE. THIS IS LAST CHAPTER I PROMISE OH MY GOD. i'm NEVER writing quirks again is what i wanna say because GODDAMN if figuring this shit out wasn't ridiculously hard. i feel more nervous posting this last chapter than all the others combined. hopefully the ending lives up to all the love you guys have given!

🌟

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath-

In..

And out...

-before reopening them.

Yeah, no. Still naked as the day you were born.

"CLOTHES," you screeched in a panic. Scrambling frantically, you grabbed the first thing you could in your proximity, holding onto the tattered cloth to your naked body for dear life, desperate to maintain some semblance of modesty. "BAKUGOU HELP HELP HELP-"

"WHAT THE FUC-" You didn't even have to see him to know he was gaping at you in shock. At the corner of your eye, you caught the villains charging up their attacks, taking aim while both your heads were spinning from the situation at head.

"BAKUGOU HOWITZER IMPACT-POWER SHIELD COMBO!" You yelled, one hand still holding up the too small cloth like a lifeline over your naked self, you steadied your other hand, timing your quirk with Bakugou's.

Bakugou didn't hesitate, having paired up with you enough to go through the motions of your combo moves like its instinct.

One blast from your roomate sent the villains flying back from its impact. The kickback had the air around you whipping, making you squeak as the wind tried to rip the cloth from your death grip while you activated your quirk, creating a power shield to buy you some time to-

"Sunshine?!??" Wow he wasn't even going to pretend to yell at you for telling him what to do. He must really be distracted.

You barely chanced a glance at Bakugou, doing your best to concentrate on keeping your forcefield up. You caught your roomate all but whip his head around to stare at you, eyes almost bugging out of his head as though he couldn't believe the sight before him.

"BAKUGOU MY BIDDIES ARE ACTUALLY OUT RIGHT NOW. WE CAN TALK LA-"

"WH- HAH???? SUNSHINE?????" He all but wheezed out. You wanted to to tell him to save his breath with all the panting he was putting his lungs through but both of you had other priorities.

"BAKUGOU PLEASE," you cried out exasperately. "CLOTHES FIRST. THEN YOU CAN INTERGORATE ME AS IF I ATE THE LAST PUDDING IN THE FRIDGE-"

A beat of silence.

"BITCH I KNEW IT WAS YOU!" The blonde yelled back, recovering quickly, huffing in exertion while he scrambled to get something to cover you up while you kept up your forcefield.

"BOY I'M THE ONLY OTHER PERSON WHO LIVES WITH YOU OF COURSE IT WAS ME-"

"I BLASTED SPARKY OF OFF THE ROOF FOR THAT!" He screeched back, chucking the soft material into your face with enough force to make you stumble a bit, your power shield wavering slightly.

"YOU DID WHAT."

"YOU TOLD ME HE TOOK MY FUCKING PUDDING!!"

"I DID NO SUCH THING. I JUST VERY STRONGLY IMPLIED THAT IT MIGHT BE SOMEONE ELSE BESIDES ME-"

"BITCH IT WAS SO CLEARLY YOU THOUGH-"

"OBVIOUSLY, YOU DUMBASS. I DIDN'T THINK I WAS SO CONVINCING YOU'D THROW DENKI OF OFF A FUCKING ROOF-"

"DON'T DUMBASS ME, DUMBASS!"

You almost deactivated your quirk in favour of a facepalm. You return to human after two weeks of being a cat & the first thing you do is get into a screaming match with your roomate about fucking pudding of all things.

"Okay, SHUT. Take over & cover me for 10 seconds while I get decent & I'll charge you up."

"You get 8 & you're buying me pudding," he bargained with a smirk. The audacity of this man.

"Are you serio- you know what. Fine. Fine!"

With that you leaped out of the way, letting Bakugou cover you. Quickly tugging over the baggy shirt & sweatpants abandoning the tattered cloth.

"Oh my god. Did you actually manage to find your own merch for me to wear right now?" You couldn't help but snort as you held up an oversized black shirt with Ground Zero's signature orange X on the front.

"Fuck off. They were the closest things I could get my hands on. Call it coincidence."

"Doubt."

"Sunshine."

You couldn't help but chuckle as you rushed over to position yourself behind the burly hero.

"Alright, alright. One power up coming up," you gave him the heads up. You brpught up your hands to rest on Bakugou's shoulder blades, ignoring the toned muscle beneath your palms as you focused on directing energy to his arms.

"Thats more like it," Bakugou smirked, feeling the heat return to his palms.

"Alright, Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Better live up to that ridiculously convoluted name of yours."

"Its Ground Zero now & you know it, gaslighting brat."

"Aw but I liked the tongue twister better, you menace to society." Rolling your eyes as you thought back to all the times he used to insist everyone get that absurd hero name right. The entire thing. No shortcuts.

You caught the smirk your partner threw you, paired with that classic murderous glint in his ruby red eyes when he was about to go berserk. Wew, you almost felt bad for the villains who were going to face his wrath as you watched his grin turn predatory.

Then you remembered they had no qualms in hurting furbabies to get their way.

Yeah, no.

"Fuck them up, roomie," you smirked at the thought of serving these villains what they deserve, smiling at the huff of a deadly laugh the explosion hero breathed out.

"Lets give them hell, Sunshine."

🌟

"That will be 6.99," the cashier said robotically, his eyes wide & owlish. You didn't blame him though- you & Bakugou were quite the sight. The two of you were intensely ragged & disheveled from your little villain encounter, though fortunately, neither of you were severely injured- just a couple of light cuts & bruises that would be a bitch to wake up to tomorrow morning.

"Take your fucking pudding," you all but growl at the blonde smirking over your shoulder. Bakugou swiped his pudding of off the counter gleefully, one large hand going to ruffle your head. You pretend to threaten him with a bite, snapping your teeth at the offending hand, making him laugh at your expense.

"Thanks, Sunny."

"Its Sunshine to you," you huffed, stepping out of the store, Bakugou close to your side.

"You've been Sunny for the past 2 weeks. I think its too late for that at this point."

Stopping in your tracks abruptly, you turned to face the blonde, your narrowed eyes meeting amused red ones to pout up at him.

Smug bastard.

Rolling your eyes, you stepped into his personal space, making his shit-eating grin falter slightly, confusion falling over his face. That got a satisfied huff out of you, masking your nerves before you launched forward pouncing onto your roomate & wrapping your arms around his waist. The contact made Bakugou freeze, his entire body tensing up in your hold.

"..whats this for?"

Fuck. Your face felt hot. You didn't let yourself back away though. Instead, you hid yourself away into his chest.

"Nah. I kinda promised myself I'd hug you as thanks when I'm back human. For, well, looking out for me & shit," you mumbled into what was left of his hoodie, nuzzling into the soft fabric. You continued when Bakugou didn't say anything.

"Its weird. I didn't even go anywhere, but I missed you. I guess."

It took a moment, but you soon felt hesitant hands come around your body to return your hug, the reciprocation making you melt into Bakugou's careful hold as he rested his chin on your head.

"I should've known," he started lowly, making your brows furrow at the tone of his voice- something you could only describe as regret. "Even if you looked different, you were still you. From the way you sass me to the way you hiss at me in the mornings. Even- even the way you pretend to bite me after I mess with your head. It was all you. And. I should've seen it," he swallowed.

You pulled back to look at those downcasted red eyes you've grown to love so much, especially after having the oppurtinity to stare into them as much as you wanted with your excuse of being a cat. Slipping your hands into his, you squeezed lightly to make him meet your gaze.

"Bakugou. I was a cat."

"Yeah, but-"

You rolled your eyes fondly at this dumb blonde, not bothering to listen how he should've known, how he didn't do enough.

Instead, you clasped a hand over his mouth to shut him up before he could get even more agitated with himself, leaning forward to lightly press your lips to your own hand, right where his lips would've been without you covering it, letting your eyes flutter shut. Just for a moment.

Pulling away, you looked up at your roomate with a fond smile, not even caring that you had hearts in your eyes from how much adoration you had for him.

God, you were down bad for this man.

You watched Bakugou blinked at you blankly, seemingly frozen in shock as you pulled your hand away from his face, leaving his mouth gaping in surprise.

Heh. You smirked, satisfied at your roomate's flushed face & reddened ears-

Your roomate that your brain has helpfully supplied as so fucking hot the moment you laid eyes on him all those years back in UA.

Your roomate that you had to pretend you weren't completely fangirling over when you two moved in together & eventually started working together on missions, preening at every subtle praise & approval of your idol.

Your roomate that you have grown to recognize as more than just an amazing hero you look up to but also as a friend you adore as his own person- angy pomeranian, mom friend tendecies & all.

Your roomate that you've managed to befriend as more than an ex classmate to someone you trust no just with your life on the field but also with your most vulnerable self, stripped off of your hero status when you're home stress eating cookie dough ice cream at 2 am like the gremlin you are.

Your roomate that you have promptly fallen in love with after he danced with you on the roof that one cold night when he found you up there alone, swaying to a melody lost in the wind- yet vowed to not pursue.

Your roomate that your heart grew fonder for after having seen his soft side during which he cared for you as Sunny- when he sat by you with his gentle fingers in your fur on days you were lost on ways to break the quirk, seemingly atuned to your down days, even while you were cat. All the while working his ass off to find your human self.

Your roomate that is now currently malfunctioning from your actions as you turned around & continued your walk home cooly, proud to have been able to fluster the man who has had a hold on your heart for so long now & blatantly ignoring your own burning face as if your heart wasn't about to keel over from giddiness.

"What- what the fuck was that? I-if you're going to kiss me do it right dammit! Coward! Pussy!" You heard your roomate sputter after you as he jogged ahead to fall back in pace with you, roughly grabbing your hand.

You snorted at his choice of words, readjusting his hold on you but never letting go of his hand.

"The only pussy I am is the one you couldn't say no to the moment I so much as bat my pretty eyes at you. The one you cooed & talked to even through all your complaining about me being a loud little shit. The one you told all about your precious Sunshine you worried about every ni-"

"You're never going to let me live this down are you, brat?" Bakugou winced at how much blackmail you had against him the past 2 weeks he coddled your furry ass.

"And let this knowledge of how much of a softie you are deep down under all that gruff outside go to waste? After all I had to go through? Absolutely not. Mrow, bitch."

🌟

A/n: HELLO ALL OF YOU WHO STUCK AROUND UNTIL THE END. i hope the ending was okay? i scratched all my previous drafts for it & decided on something much more lighthearted because i feel thats what made this series so fun & as lovable as it is. i love you all so fucking much & i hope you enjoyed reading mrow as much as i enjoyed writing it <33 until the next crazy series my brain comes up with <3

Series taglist: @deadpoolsvodka @zbeez-outlet @fixed211 @arael-asuka @sadcookie365 @phrogfungi @trash-heichou-kacchan @sad0ni0n @woodzonesworld @mushi42 @yappydoo @kazxtora @nnubee @chuugarettes @voidsatoru @freakyundercover @momdisappointment @simp4rengoku @yaskna @zane2408 @lynn-writes-things @dinodumbass @jihyuniepark @julietdelamare @captainchrisstan @atrainb @wannabewolf @cupidcole @atsushiki @trashbin-nie @mothmanuwu @skyesayshi @nezykoi @theredtater06 @lanaxians-2 @alextheknight707 @vollkornpraline @misakik28 @carnationhcs @some-ryvant @blubearxy @dangerousluv1 @seokjin-bby @slytherclaw1227 @tjmaxx556 @kuleo26 @answer-the-sirens @stxrrielle @call-me-drartemis @ouch-thats-harsh @coodoritoss @thychuvaluswife @dynakats @naneko-nakooooo @letharue @sleepylittlebarista @moonbinnie0983 @ninashellhole @lovra974 @i-cant-write-for-shit

[sleepingnova]

Resiliency

Pairing: Ray x fem! black! reader

Summary: it's the summer of 1996, and Los Angeles is all the rage. Living life and maybe, you'll have some friends to enjoy the ride of life with.

I have such a brainrot for this movie omg I love this movie, it's so good. I actually wanna get back into writing fr, so send asks guys !!

As always, likes and reblog are appreciated, mwah mwah mwah <3

Working at the local corner store, it's always some sort of racket outside. Loud chattering every day. Yelling and screaming from the store manager for whoever's outside to get away.

“man come on, we ain't even doing nothing for real! we just chillin’!” someone's voice rings out from outside, followed by the store manager. Rolling your eyes, you walk out, seeing your manager walking away and down the street.

“fuck. shit, what the fuck is his problem?” a curly haired boy rings out, drinking from what looked like a jug of water.

“sorry about him. he's just not used to a bunch of noise everyday. neither am I, to be honest.” your voice rings out, honey sweet and kind.

“damn, you kinda fine. you wanna see sumn?” the same boy rings out, his eyes hooded.

“fuckshit, shut up. damn. you'll have to excuse my friend here.” a black boy politely says, looking you up and down respectfully.

“wow, you are really pretty. I— woah!” a younger boy says, tripping over your skateboard. you act quick, catching him and helping him back up.

“Be careful sunburn. who the hell puts a random skateboard in the middle of the sidewalk anyway, right? I mean, just dumb,” the dark-skinned boy looks at you, a little dazed at your beauty. “ray. I-I’m Ray, nice to meet you.”

You smile, as a car comes up to you, catcalling you, telling you to ‘bring that ass here’.

“Yo, you know that fool?” Ray looks back and forth from you and the car.

“Yeah, he's my ex boyfriend. Won't leave me alone.” You smile at him, the car getting closer, the profanities getting more and more grotesque. “guess I should get going. I'll, uh.. see you around, Ray, right?” You pick up the skateboard, starting to walk as you walk away.

“Yeah. Wait, yo, what's ya name?” Ray yells down the sidewalk as you start to run, hopping on your skateboard in the distance.

“It’s whateva you want it to be, baby!” You yell back, turning the corner to get away from the car that's gaining on you. You run, running until it starts to hurt, seeing your house in sight. Going in your house, you watch at your window for the car to drive past, sighing as it finally does.

Over the next few days, your boyfriend— or well, ex, has been tannin’ your hide. It's up whenever he sees you outside. You've been getting a few hits in, but you're a heavy hitter, so he looks worse than you. Running from your ex again, you run into the skateboard shop, not expecting to see Ray.

“Yo, ain't that the chick from the other day? The one that had Ray all blushin’?” A kid asks, apparently called Ruben, followed by a ‘black people can blush?’ by someone, who they all seem to call “fourth grade”. You and Ray exchange a glance, but even though you're out of breath, you defo have time to pull a ‘is this nigga serious?’ look at him, before putting your hands on your knees, panting, your face flushed from the heat outside.

“Yo, you breathing like you just got fucked, calm down.” Ruben laughs, lighting a cigarette.

“Shut up, Ruben. Hey, you okay? I still ain't got your name from the other day.” Ray jokes, helping you over to the couch.

You wheeze, taking your jacket off, wincing as dark bruises and scars paint against your brown skin.

“Need you to hide me.. please. My ex— he's..he's coming and he's gonna beat my ass.” You pant, Ray nodding, looking at everyone else. Just as he starts to speak, your ex comes busting through the door. Ray and fuckshit block him, taunting him as he stares you down. They eventually get him away and out of the store, leaving you a mess.

“That was dope as hell, not gonna lie. You was all starin’ him down like ‘yeah, nigga I got the juice now. what's up?’ even though you look really bad.” fuckshit comments, Ray looking at you with concern.

“He did all that? Yo, he's a pussy, man, beating on a woman like that,” Ray tilts his head, pointing up and down. “ay, you finna roll with us from now on.”

“You got bitched. Why you ain't fight back?” Ruben laughs, sunburn and fourth grade looking at him with a side eye.

“Shut up, Ruben. You suck, nigga. Real shit, are you okay? Come on, go into the bathroom, you bleeding through your shirt.” Ray helps you up and into the bathroom.

Closing the door, you're pressed against the sink as Ray tries his best to help you.

“Where're you from, again? Remember you said we was too loud. Y'know, cause you aren't used to all the noise where you're from,” Ray asks, his hands around your hips, trying to lift you. “sorry, where are my manners? can I? need you to jump, so you can sit on the sink.” He asks, you mumbling a ‘mhm.’ before lifting you onto the sink, his hand lifting up your shirt to see your whole stomach area covered in blood and sweat.

“m from the east side.” you mumble, blushing from being so close to him.

As he finishes cleaning as best he can and putting a bandage on your stomach, he helps you down with a smile.

After a while, after adopting the name ‘babydoll’ or doll or sweets, or honey, and after fighting with your parents so much about the friends you hang with and finally getting your ex to leave you alone, it brings you to here— waking up in the hospital bed, after apparently being asleep for 3 and a half days from the accident, extremely drowsy as Ray and the others come in your room, Stevie sitting on your bed, facing you.

“Hey, sunny baby, thought you couldn't be out the bed?” you slur, still on all of the painkillers.

“Convinced them to let me out my room.” Stevie shrugs, drinking a carton of orange juice.

“How you feeling?” Ray grabs at your file, looking over all your injuries as you groan, collective gasps and ‘damn’s come out of everyone's mouth.

“Everything hurts. All the bruises n stuff don't help neither.” You groan, not moving.

“One thing's for sure; you're resilient. I like that about you. Get some rest. I'll be here, babydoll,” Ray hugs you, kissing your cheek, followed by all of them snuggling up next to you. “we all will. for real.”

[ghostchems]

Can you write an angst that leads to smut abt terzo just getting dragged off stage and he feels worthless so reader (gn plz) gives him a little.. Uhh...ego boost? (Bj)

so sorry for taking SO long. mdni! 18+! about 1.4K words. some angst some sads some sexy

Terzo feels like he can’t breathe, still in the arms of the security team as he reaches off stage. The last thing he saw was his father, waiting in the wings, watching his son get dragged off stage with a stern look. His head is pounding and he can hardly think as he’s forced backstage and toward his dressing room.

Everything had gone according to plan. Terzo had given his all for this performance, his final performance of the tour and was looking forward to taking some time off from the demanding schedule. Their attendance has been up, the word of the Morningstar has spread and so has the influence of the clergy — and it is because of him whether they see it or not. It’s true that he butt heads with leadership, with his father, but their success was also his success. Were they really punishing him for this?

It’s true that Terzo has become disillusioned by the clergy leadership and that members close to him started to catch on. Terzo didn’t let that get in the way of putting on a show of the highest standards. He could hardly think. His head is pounding, his eyes wincing with each sharp jab of pain shooting through his forehead.

The security team plops him in the dressing room and leaves to let you take care of him. You weren’t aware of the plans, just that you need to be here for him and keep him in the room while the crew breaks down the stage. You stay quiet and watch him rage, shocked by how angry he is. What did they do to him? Terzo smashes a few glasses of water and shoves the alcohol off of the stocked bar, the bottles shattering on the ground. You’ve never seen him this out of control before and you’ve been his comfort after each show this particular tour. Your job ranges from getting him the snacks he needs to helping him come down from the high of performing.

You know him inside and out and you have never been afraid of him.

Until now.

“How dare he!?” Terzo’s voice rips through the dressing room, his anger and desperation making your own chest hurt. He furiously smooths out his jacket, having been crinkled by the security guards who had him in their grasp, then he runs his fingers through his hair. Everything must be perfectly in place or else the feeling of being out of control will have won. If anything, he can still control how he looks. Terzo’s eyes flit around the room before they settle on you. After a normal show he would be delighted to see you and you him, singing his praises on how well he did while you helped him with his wardrobe.

“You! Did you know?!” He points to you and nearly runs at you, the rage in his eyes making you flinch as he gets closer. You take a step back but he’s too quick, his hand grabbing you by the throat and squeezing before you’re even able to respond. A growl rumbles through his chest, your hands finding his arms to fight back, to try to wrench his hand from around your neck. Terzo’s white eye is shining, wisps of power seeping from it as you struggle against him, wheezing pleas pushing from your throat. He blinks, his white eye returning to normal as he loosens his grasp on your throat. Air fills your lungs, gasping and breathing heavily while you stumble away from him.

“M-mi dispiace.” His voice is hoarse, tinged with a whine. Terzo runs his hands over his face then his arms hang numbly by his sides. “How could he do this to me?” He sounds so desperate, so broken. You can’t stay away from him, your own arms wrapping around him to pull him into a hug. Terzo melts against you, burying his face in your shoulder as he squeezes you in his embrace. You’ve been through a lot together. You want to tell him that things will work out but you don’t want to give him false hope. All you can do is hold him and help him with what you can.

Terzo’s grip on you grows tighter and tighter as his mind races. Is this the end of his reign? Will the Papa position be vacated? What will he even do with himself now? His fingers start to dig into your back, a growl rumbling up from his throat as you struggle to breathe in his grasp. His hand knots in your hair and he rests his other on your shoulder as he starts to force you down to your knees. You try to pull away from him but he doesn’t let you so you relent, slowly dropping to your knees in front of him. He groans just from the sigh of you, his hand still firm in your hair as his other one fumbles with his zipper.

“Papa needs you, tesoro.” Terzo hums, freeing himself from his pants and tugs you toward him. Your lips meet his tip, giving it a soft kiss before you part them and swipe your tongue along the underside. He gives a hoarse grunt, fingers digging into your scalp as he pulls your hair to force you further down his cock. You whimper and do as instructed, sinking slowly down him, relaxing your jaw to take as much of him in your mouth as possible. You exhale through your nose and tilt your head up to look at him through thick lashes.

Terzo chokes out a moan, his cock twitching in your mouth. You start to bob your head along his length, using your tongue to swipe along his slit, a technique you know he enjoys. He twists his fingers in your hair and jerks his hips, his cock thrusting to hit the back of your throat. You gag and your throat convulses around him, tears stinging your eyes. Your eyes flit up to his and they are nearly black with arousal, his teeth gritted and a growl rumbling up his chest. Terzo’s hips snap roughly, his cock gliding down your throat with each violent thrust. You start to drool and you move your hands to grip his thighs, trying to hold on as he fucks your face.

His breath starts to grow more shallow, cut off by moans and grunts, his fingers scratching into your scalp. Your cheeks are stained with tears now, gagging around his thick cock with every downstroke, drool pooling from the corners of your mouth. You wonder if this makes him feel powerful, if this is helping the situation at all but your mind drifts to the assault on your throat.

“That’s a good -ah- puttanella, pleasing your Papa with that p-pretty mouth of y-yours.” He groans as his hips stutter, sucking in a sharp gasp. Terzo manages a few more thrusts before he gives a deep moan, his eyes squeezing shut as he empties himself into your mouth.

You gasp for air as you pull your lips off of him, your bleary eyes darting up to his face. Terzo catches his breath, letting go of your hair to tuck himself back into his pants. It’s evident by his expression that his mind is still racing. You sit back on your knees and open your mouth to ask if he’s okay but you’re cut off by the door swinging open. Sister Imperator enters, her hands clasped behind her back. You wipe your lips off with the back of your hand and quickly climb to your feet, your face flushing with embarrassment. Terzo spins on his heel, his face twisting in a rage once he sets his sights on her.

“Che cazzo! Where is he?” He growls, annoyance dripping from each word.

“You may leave us now, sibling.” Imperator peers around him and gives you a tight lipped smile nodding toward the exit. You suck in a sharp breath, starting to walk past the two but you can’t help but look back at Terzo. The daggers in his eyes soften and you feel a pull to stay with him, to be there for him — but you’ve been relieved by Sister and there’s no one in the clergy you fear more than her.

You offer him a weak smile and leave the dressing room.