#Shadow is mesmerized ❤️

[alienaliart]

Gentle reminder that your faves are as gay and trans as you want them to be 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

[jobean12-blog]

Next Door to Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Neighbor AU)

Word Count: 3,188

Summary: When you made the move to the city you never expected your new neighbor to be so sweet and helpful...or hot.

Author's Note: Because why not! Moving in across the hall from Bucky would be a dream, one I'd like to live out please and ty haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: fun and flirty, teasing and tension, a curse or two or three, Bucky is impatient and cocky in the best way!

Last week

Your tired, fuzzy slipper clad feet drag along the floor as you trudge toward the door across the hall. You’re hoping someone is home. Someone who has sugar. Anyone.

You let out a quick exhale and lift your chin before rapping your knuckles against the wood. A frown starts to mar your forehead when you hear a sleepy mumble come from inside the apartment.

Shit, fuck, shit you woke him up. It’s a guy. Of course it is…because you don’t look like you just rolled off your mattress that still has no bedframe and tripped over twenty-five unopened boxes…etc, etc.

The door swings open revealing said guy…a hot-as-fuck guy. Naked, except for his unbuttoned jeans.

Oh hi neighbor.

Before you can stop it, your gaze instantly drops to the dark trail of hair below his bellybutton, framed by a set of abs that you could dry your laundry on.

You reel yourself in and lift your eyes to his which does nothing to help your declining focus. His hair is perfectly mussed from sleep, his chiseled jaw shadowed with dark stubble and his incredible blue eyes lined by dark lashes.

His hands are planted on either side of the door frame and with every passing second you’re mesmerized by flexing muscles in his chest and arms.

He drags a lazy hand through his unkept hair and smiles. Knowingly. Smugly.

“Can I help you doll?”

“Um…hi. I’m sorry if I woke you…it’s just…I moved in yesterday and haven’t gone shopping yet and I have no sugar. I need my coffee.”

“So you’re my new neighbor,” he croons. “Lucky me.”

You audibly swallow and hold up your coffee cup pleadingly.

“I’ll take care of ya doll.”

With a wink he holds up one long finger.

“Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back with that sugar.”

He spins on his heel and walks toward what you’re guessing is the kitchen and it should be considering your apartments are mirror images of each other.

You step inside and stand by the door to wait. You hear him rummaging around and then hear a crash followed by grumbled curses.

Before you can react the cutest white cat saunters out of the kitchen, looking quite proud with his fluffy tail held high and blue eyes unblinking.

“That’s Alpine,” he yells from the other room. “Don’t let his cuteness fool you. He’s a menace!”

You let your laughter ring out and then kneel down to give Alpine some scratches. The cat instantly warms up to you and presses himself against your leg, purring loudly.

“Ah, of course he likes you.”

You look up at the sound of your neighbors voice and reluctantly give up petting Alpine to take the offering of sugar.

“Thank you….?”

“Bucky,” he finishes for you. “Name’s Bucky.”

“Thanks Bucky,” you say with a smile and then introduce yourself.

You look back down at the cat that is now circling between Bucky’s bare feet. “And Alpine really is cute. I can’t imagine he’s a menace.”

“Just wait until you get to know him,” Bucky says. “Can I get you anything else doll?”

“No. Thank you and again I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“No problem at all. I had a late night at the office and I was just being lazy. If you need anything else just come by. Anytime.”

His lips turn up in a boyish grin and he winks again.

You can feel his eyes on you as you turn and walk out into the hall and toward your apartment. Just as you push your door open you look over your shoulder and catch him staring, his teeth dug deep into his bottom lip.

The knock at your door startles you from your unpacking trance and from your spot on the floor, surrounded by open boxes and a mess of things, you ask, “who is it?”

“It’s Bucky…and I have food.”

Your smile is impossible to hide and you shout back, “come in!”

Bucky appears in the doorway with a pizza box.

“Hiya doll face,” he chimes. “I figured you’d need some fuel.”

You drag yourself out of the mess on the floor and hop up onto the edge of the counter.

“Thanks Bucky. I really appreciate it, but you’re spoiling me. What is it now…the third time this week you’re feeding me?”

He hands you a slice and then stands there, watching while you take a bite.

“And why not? You need to eat and I love to eat, might as well do it together!”

You laugh through your bite. “Then what motivated you to help with my furniture?”

He shrugs and grabs a slice of pizza, shoving half into his mouth before he answers.

“Perfect opportunity to show off my muscles.”

He waggles his brows suggestively and flexes a bicep.

“Double win for me,” you admit, licking your lips. “How will I ever repay you.”

He remains quiet for several moments while he studies you then asks, “how about a real dinner?”

“Pizza is the realest dinner there is!” you state with a mouthful.

“Let me take you out. For something other than pizza.”  

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Would you say yes if I were?”

Your legs swing back and forth at the knee as you finish your bite and then place your slice of pizza down. You reach over the box and grab the marker you left out on the counter, placing it between your lips.

Watching him from under your lashes, you take his arm and roll up the sleeve of his Henley and when your fingertips make contact with the sensitive skin on his underside of his forearm you can feel his muscles tighten.

Your mouth curves around the marker at his reaction and you pluck it from between your lips and start writing on his skin.

“Now you’ve got my number. Text me and we’ll pick a date for our date.”

“Thank you,” he says, leaning in close and dropping his eyes to your mouth.

Your lips part with your small gasp of air and when his thumb lifts to brush along the corner of your mouth you let out a rush of air.

“Sauce,” he states before he licks his finger clean, his gaze locked on yours.

You nod as he steps back and pulls out his phone to dial your number on his arm. Your phone rings and he says, “and now you’ve got mine.”

You spend the rest of your weekend unpacking and doing errands, running into Bucky only once in a frantic rush of laundry. He offers to help but you know if you let him you’ll become distracted and never get anything done. The two of you text back and forth, deciding on Saturday for your official date. No pizza involved.

The next morning you get another text from him.

“Morning doll face. Don’t forget an umbrella. Gonna rain later today.”

“Are you the weather man now?” you message back, smiling at your phone.

“Nah. Just a friendly neighbor.”

“Did you tell everyone in the building about the rain and remind them to bring an umbrella.”

“Just you…”

“Thanks, but I’m already half way to work sans umbrella.”

“Damn it. I knew I should have texted earlier. Now if you get caught in the rain it’ll be all my fault.”

“Hardly! I should have checked the weather. Can’t rely on you for everything can I?”

He sends a wink face.

“Is it Saturday yet?”

“Still only Monday morning. What’s Saturday?”

“Don’t tease me doll. I’ve been looking forward to this date since you showed up at my door lookin’ for sugar.”

“Have a good day Bucky.”

“You too doll…stay dry.”

You’re only two blocks from your apartment building when the sky opens up and the rain comes down in buckets. By the time you reach the doors you’re soaked through and cursing at yourself for forgetting an umbrella.

The door attendant lets you in with a sympathetic smile and as you’re sloshing past him and toward the elevator you hear Bucky’s voice.

“Oh doll. Look at you.”

He tugs his mail from the box and slams it shut, rushing toward you and taking your arm.

“Soaked,” you say sadly.

“I can see that,” he muses with a twitch of his perfect lips. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs and dry.”

The elevator doors open and you step inside with a shiver. He immediately starts to pull your jacket from your shoulders.

“What are you doing?” you ask without stopping him.

“You have to get out of this jacket. I’m sure your shirt is….”

He stops speaking when his eyes catch sight of your white button down, soaked through so that you can see the lace of your bra outlined against the fabric.

“Fuck,” he mutters, dragging his eyes back to your face. “Here.”

He shrugs off his damp jacket and then takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

“But it’ll get all wet,” you protest.

“Don’t care. You can’t walk out of the elevator like that.”

His jaw is set in a hard line as his fingers work over the scruff that lines it. The elevator dings at your floor and he takes your hand, leading you out and checking the hallway.

“Why are you looking around like that?” you ask.

He turns back to you and tugs you closer. “I don’t wanna anyone seeing you.”

“Why not?”

“Because then I’ll have to kill them,” he states.

“Someone is acting a little jealous,” you giggle.

“Yeah well…we haven’t even had our first date yet. Can’t have someone looking at what’s about to be mine.”

“Yours,” you breathe out, not even realizing you’re now standing in front of your apartment door.

With shaky fingers you start to remove his suit jacket but before you can he stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Don’t doll. Just keep it for now.”

“But we’re at the door. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but if you take that off then I have to see you in your wet shirt again. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself if I do.”

“Control yourself how?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

He responds with a pained groan before his mouth meets yours and he has you pressed against the door.

Even though your shirt is soaked through and your skin is cold you can feel the warmth of his body seep into yours. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself and he lifts one hand to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.

Your scrape your nails along his broad shoulders and he moans out your name.

“Fuck, I love having your hands on me.”

The desperation in his voice has you arching into him and you drop your head against the door, giving him access to trail his lips down your neck. Your fingers slide into his hair and tug at the soft strands. He growls into your skin and scrapes his teeth over your pulse point making you gasp his name.

“Oh I like that,” you whisper.

He does it again.

“You’re going to like everything I do to you doll face.”

His lips graze yours and he swallows your whimper, crowding you closer to the door before muttering out a curse and letting you both take a breath.

“Is it Saturday yet?” he asks, still breathless.

“Still Monday,” you answer, feeling just the same.

“Right,” he says, planting his hands on the door above your head and dropping his head forward.

A door down the hall opens and he pauses, straightening his body to hide your own. You both smile at the older lady who walks by with a questioning look.

When Bucky’s eyes return to you they drop to where he spread his jacket open to put his hands on you, your shirt sticking to your wet skin even more now.

He stares before reluctantly dragging his eyes up and taking the sides of the material and pulling them tightly around you.

You tremble.

“Still cold?” he asks, his eyes soft with worry.

“Hardly,” you answer and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“See you later Bucky.”

“I’m counting on it doll.”

You spend the rest of the week juggling your time between work, texting Bucky and sleeping. You’ve only seen him once since Monday evening and that was for five minutes when he caught you coming home again but this time he had his friend Steve with him and there was no chance for any kissing.

Saturday morning rolls around and you wake up to a text from him.

“It is finally Saturday or am I dreaming?”

“It’s really Saturday!”

“Thank fuck! Can we start our date now?”

“No…I have to do girly things and prepare.”

“What kinds of things….?”

“I’ll see you tonight Buck.”

You can almost hear his groan through the phone.

“I’ll be at your door at 7 sharp.”

Bucky knocks on your apartment door at exactly the same time your phone clock hits 7:00pm. You grin at your best friend Nat before she gets up and walks toward the door.

“Oh girl. He’s hot!” a muffled voice says from the other side.

It isn’t yours so Bucky assumes it’s your friend.

“He’s at least a nine.”

Bucky scoffs, muttering, “a nine?” quietly to himself.

“Hey, I can hear you in there. Are you gonna open the door?” he asks the unknown voice.

The door swings open to reveal a red head who looks him over with two scrutinizing green eyes.

“Hi,” he smiles, holding out his hand. “I’m Bu…”

“Bucky,” she finishes. “I know who you are…question is…do you know who I am?”

“You must be Natasha,” Bucky answers with a smug smile.

“That’s right and I’m a black belt in jiu jitsu so you do anything I don’t like and I will end you.”

Bucky’s eyes light up and he watches Nat as she moves toward the kitchen.

“You almost ready doll face,” he yells, not taking his eyes off Nat in case she goes for a knife.

“I’m right here,” you say.

Bucky turns to find you standing right in front of him. His mouth drops open as his eyes sweep you up and down.

“This is where you say she looks amazing,” Nat admonishes from the kitchen, dangerously close to the knife rack.

However, Bucky’s eyes never leave you and when he steps into your space and wraps you in his arms, pulling you into his chest, you let out a squeal of delight.

“You look fucking gorgeous,” he says, loud enough for Nat to hear, then whispers, only for your ears, “I want to rip this dress off you.”

Your lips spread into a sly smile. “We made the right choice Nat.”

“Of course we did,” she chimes. “Now go. I’ll lock up.”

“I’m so ready,” he says, ushering you toward the door, but not before turning to Nat, still in the kitchen eyeing him warily, and asking, “I’m good with a nine, but just out of curiosity, what did I lose a point for?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it in front of you?” Nat asks.

“I wanna hear it too Nat,” you say, raising an expectant and skeptical brow.

“You didn’t shave.”

He runs the free hand, the one not wrapped around your waist, over his jaw.

“I didn’t get any complaints earlier this week,” Bucky says, eyes now sparkling with mischief.

“He’s right Nat,” you add. “I like it.”

Nat rolls her eyes and shoos you away.

Once you’re safely in the elevator and away from prying eyes Bucky invades your space, plastering you against the cool metal wall and caging you there with his large body.

“It almost killed me to not be kissing you for the past five minutes,” he says against your lips.

When you press into him and slide your body along his it sucks the breath right out of his lungs and fills them with something else. Need.

The kiss pulls a throaty groan from him and his belt buckle digs into your skin, the muscles hidden beneath his clothes, pressing and flexing over the thin material of your dress.

The elevator door dings and begins to slide open, causing you to give his chest a gentle shove.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he asks as he lifts a finger and traces your swollen lips.

“That would suck,” you reply. “I kind of like having you as a neighbor.”

After a delicious dinner at a roof top restaurant down town, Bucky walks you along the street, hand in hand, as you listen and laugh to his childhood stories about growing up in Brooklyn.

“Where are we going now?” you ask.

“It’s a surprise,” he says as he twirls you into his side and presses his fingers under your chin to steal a kiss.

As you get closer to your destination the bright lights sparkle and the smell of the ocean is carried on the warm breeze.

“Which bridge is that?” you ask with awe.

“The Brooklyn Bridge,” he tells you and grabs your hand to pull you along. “Come on. I have something to show you.”

When you reach the top of the look out he slides an arm around your waist and pulls your back to his chest.

“This is so beautiful Bucky,” you whisper.

He kisses your cheek and takes your chin between his fingers, turning your face up to his. “I always thought it was the most beautiful thing in the city…but not anymore.”

You’re thankful for his strong arms holding you up and after a sweet kiss you enjoy the view in comfortable silence for a few more minutes but his hands start to wander, soft and sure, and with each passing touch your body aches for more.

His warm breath fans across your neck and his arm moves lower until his hand grasps your hip and he pulls you back to feel the hardness between his legs.

You suck in a breath and fight the urge to move against him.

With a curse he pulls away and grabs your hand, dragging you toward the park under the bridge. The only lights come from the lit-up buildings across the street and when he finds a hidden spot he backs you against the cold stone but you’re too hot to care.

“Bucky,” you whisper as your hands roam over his broad chest.

His mouth brushes yours before he gently nips at your bottom lip.

“I can’t even keep my fucking hands off you long enough to bring you home,” he murmurs.

His fingers find the hem of your dress and he slides them under, slowly teasing the fabric higher until his hand brushes over the wetness on your panties.

“Please, Bucky,” you pant.

“Fuck, I love hearing you say my name like that,” he growls. “I need to get you home so I can hear you scream it for me.”

@hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @randomfandompenguin @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @buckysdollforlife @lizette50

[ghoulphile]

wish you'd make me cry | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.3k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, dom!cooper, frottage, sitting missionary, dirty talk, degradation kink, pet names, teasing, dacryphilia, bareback, drug/chem use (jet), shotgunning, high sex ➥ summary | "You’re such a needy fucking brat." :3c ➥ notes | drabble (that's no longer a drabble lol) request for @tearueful, thank you bby!! this one really got away from me... i had to stop myself from writing lol. un-beta'd atm. masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

Setting up camp for the night in an abandoned warehouse, you and Cooper wait out a radstorm that blows in off the horizon. Because while he loves sitting outside with a smoke, soaking in the rads until he’s buzzing with frenetic energy, you don’t feel like hunting down RadAway tomorrow.

It’s quiet apart from the distant sound of super mutants and ferals roaming the city, the sporadic roar of thunder, and rain tinging off the sheet metal roof. There’s still hours left until daylight, and it doesn’t seem like the volatile weather will break soon.

Unfortunately, you’ve read all the Grognak comics you could get your grubby hands on three times over, and there’s not much else to pass the time besides scuff your boot along the concrete floor, and pluck at a stray thread hanging off your tattered sleeping bag.

Meanwhile, Cooper lounges on his side, unbothered. His hand - bare for once - props up his head, the unscarred skin of a commandeered digit stark against angry rad burns and ropey scars. Between the knuckles of his other hand, he rolls a vial of chem over and over in a mesmerizing flick of deft fingers.

A lantern sputters between you as the old battery struggles to keep it lit. Its jaundiced glow banishes the thick darkness; a fuzzy halo of light that elongates shadows and deepens the cuts of his face.

You kiss your teeth, and say, “Hey, you got any more Jet?”

Lazy eyes slide towards you. A hairless brow quirks. “And if I did,” he asks, the vial pausing between his fingers, “why you wanna know?”

“Dunno, I’m bored… wanna get high?”

“Well, shit,” he whistles, bares his teeth. A low, crackling laugh rumbles from his chest. “Why the fuck didn’t you ask sooner.”

You shrug and crack a knuckle.

To be honest, the idea hadn’t occurred to you at first. Now that it has, anticipation curls low in your belly. Not only has it been a long, long time since you last got high (the sensation a hazy, half-remembered dream of fuzzy warmth and whirling thoughts), you know Cooper always carries a top-notch stash.

The little chem fiend, you think fondly.

“So,” you prompt. “Wanna get high together or what?”

“Sure as shit, darlin’. Let’s party.”

He settles against the pockmarked wall beside you with a soft grunt, the grit of concrete digging into his back. Thigh to thigh, his body is a rad warm line of heat. A bloom of suffocating heat in the otherwise biting chill of a wasteland night. Gunpowder and smoke tickle your nose when he leans over to rifle through his bag, leather creaking.

Muted, mellow; everything fades into a silent companionship as you pass the red inhaler between you. With every puff, whorls of smoke curl from your mouths until a murky gray cloud hovers in the air; defining the edges of your crafted universe.

The acrid vapor of chem burns its way through your lungs and into your bloodstream. A bitter taste coats your fattened tongue, lips tingling as your palm smothers little coughs. A flood of static rushes down your nerve endings, sends your head spinning.

As your vision blurs, the tension leeches from rounded shoulders with a bone weary sigh. And with every slow clicking blink, colors spark to life in a distorted kaleidoscope. Head lolling to the side, you watch through heavy eyes as Cooper rattles the inhaler and takes a shallow hit.

When he exhales, little tendrils of smoke caress the plains of his cheek. Dance along the hollow nasal ridge. “Almost out.” He grunts, your fingers brushing when he passes the cartridge back. “Go on, now. Finish it.”

The kind gesture (for him) touches you.

Then a faraway thought flutters.

Snags - settles into a nebulous desire.

And before you can second guess yourself, a rumble of thunder shakes the building. Wipes away the last of your common sense, and reservations. After all, why not? He was nice enough to share. You can too.

To his credit, Cooper doesn’t startle when you slink into his lap - not that you expect him to, even without being chem-addled. He tracks your movements from beneath a heavy brow bone, the dark Nuka Cola of his eyes glittering like shattered glass in the wane light.

“Heh, this that kinda party then, darlin’?” he asks once you settle, your thighs draped over his hips and your ass flush with his crotch. “‘Cuz you’ll be wanting ta extricate yourself if it ain’t.”

—Before I do it for you.

Humming, you dip forward until your breasts brush over the wide expanse of his chest. Interest flickers to life behind your navel; cinders cracking and popping along your spine. While you’d never considered Cooper a sexual availability beforehand (what with his never-ending search for family), the laden weight of his gaze as it pauses on your chin before dropping lower sings through your blood.

Kickstarts your heart into a galloping stutter that thuds against your ribcage as longing hooks behind your navel, tugs sudden and sharp. The world spins.

Maybe, you think, peering at him from beneath the fan of your lashes. Maybe…

“Pervert,” you murmur, biting down on a small smile.

The knife-sharp smirk falls from his lips faster than a comedown from Psycho when your fingertips ghost over the curve of his jaw, turning his head towards you. Like this, you share breath, the scant space between you thrumming with energy.

So close you can see flecks of gold in the amber whiskey of his eyes.

Your forehead brushes over his; the rough drag of gnarled skin sending a shiver through your limbs. “Let’s share the last hit. S’only fair.”

Pausing, he considers you for several long moments.

His gaze bounces from yours to the playful curve of your mouth and back. A small eternity passes like this. And then - when you’re about to crawl away to lick your wounded pride - the most imperceptible of nods grants his assent.

There’s a hiss of aerosol, a lung burning inhale, and then you’re exhaling into the open gash of his mouth.

Wisps of smoke dance off your tongue onto his, the bow of your lips glancing off the swell of his top lip as you squirm closer. You feed him chem in a slow, steady stream until all the air has left you.

He groans - a wounded, low-throated sound.

Your eyes flutter open to find him already staring, his iris a thin ring around the Blackhole of his wide blown pupils. Hooded, hungry: a caged predator. You lick your lips, and in doing so, flick your tongue over his.

Your stomach swoops, “I --”

“You’re such a needy fuckin’ brat, y’know that, sweetheart?”

Whether it was an apology or some other retort stuck to the back of your teeth like hard candy, you’ll never know because in the next moment a rough hand knocks the Jet out of your hand. The inhaler cracks against the concrete with a plastic smack before skidding off into the darkness.

A burning palm curls around your wrist, calloused fingers digging into your fluttering pulse point. “Hey — hngg!”

He yanks you close, and you taste the violence in his kiss.

Harsh lips map out the softness of yours as teeth pinch and roll until your mouth is a swollen mess of tender flesh and smeared spit. Keeping up with the frenzied scrape of his tongue and the deep pulls of his kisses is like trying to weather a hurricane or fight off a Yao Guai with a single bullet.

“W-Wait,” you gasp, fingers twined through the lapels of his duster. “I don’t --”

“Shut up,” Cooper growls, worrying the swell of your bottom lip until a bead of blood bubbles to the surface. He sucks it away with a stifled moan, his hips kicking up against the plush of your ass.

“Shut the fuck up right now. You know what you was doing - trying ta act innocent when you’ve been gaggin’ for it.”

Flustered, you pull back, “No, that’s not true!”

It’s hard to keep your balance with chem pumping through your veins, and you sway to the side. The only thing keeping you upright is the bruising grip Cooper has on your wrist. “I haven’t been — you’re wr-rong.”

He spits out a mean spirited chuckle. “If that’s what you need ta tell yourself, sweetheart.” A critical eye drags down the pathetic sight you make, crumbled as you are in his lap. “But I know the truth. I felt you looking - pantin’ after me like a bitch in heat.”

“...”

Panic grips you by the throat, your pulse thundering against the thumb he strokes along the curve of your shoulder. You should’ve known better.

Of course, he’d notice.

He was The Ghoul after all - best bounty hunter from this coast to the next. It was his job to perceive everything around him, sus out friend from foe.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

What else can you say?

He brought you along (for whatever reason, fuck if you know why), and you’ve caused nothing but trouble every step of the way. It’s a wasteland miracle he hasn’t kicked your ass and left you bleeding in the dirt by now.

I have to fix this. Whatever it takes.

“I ain’t wanting you sorry.”

Gulping, you will away the sting of tears, and say, “Please, don’t kick me out.”

“Y’know, sometimes I think it’s a miracle you survived this long at all.”

“You don’t have to be so rude about it…” 

“Listen good and well, sugar,” he says with a roll of his eyes, that tender hand brushing over your neck turning into a collar as he drags you close. His lips whisper over yours with every word. “I didn’t go through all of this bullshit just ta get rid of you. Now--”

Hips rut up into you, dragging the firm line of his growing erection along the soft globes of your ass. “Stop teasin’ and make yourself useful,” he says. “Or you will be sorry.”

Everything after that flicks in and out of focus like a zoetrope: the burning clasp of hands, the slick glide of hungry mouths, the frantic rock of your hips as you both chase after dry friction with a desperation that borders on madness.

Your hands don’t know where to settle, fluttering from the nape of his neck to the breadth of his shoulders to the rippling muscle of his stomach as he rocks into you. Bites at any exposed skin that he can until his teeth leave marks you’ll carry for days.

All the while the hard edges of his body crash into your softness like waves against an eroding shore. Liquid fire blazes in your belly like a raging wildfire, scorching you from the inside out until you’re dumb and dripping.

The chem snaking through your body enhances the littlest of sensations until you feel like one giant exposed nerve. Slick drenched and sweaty, you moan weakly and rest your forehead against his cheek.

“Please,” you slur, thighs trembling where they squeeze at his live-wire hips. “S’not enough - need more. Wanna cum. Please, please, please. Make me cum.”

Cooper bites out a curse, his fingers biting into the fat of your ass. “Yeah, s’that right, sweetheart - d’you think you deserve it for bein’ such a lil brat?”

“Yes, yes, please, I’ll do anything. Just - hhahh, fuck!”

The fabric of your panties clings to your folds, and your pants chafe.

Your clit throbs with every thud of your heartbeat, every firm grind of his cock and low husk of his voice. Want him seated so deep inside you choke - your poor pussy struggling to take his cock as he rides you so hard you cry.

“Anything?” he asks with a breathless chuckle.

The devilish gleam of his eyes rattles your bones, shivers of electric anticipation fizzing through your veins like Quantum.

“Well, shit. Don’t come cryin’ ta me when you regret it. Now, take off those fucking pants and ride my cock like a good girl.”

And when he bullies his way inside, those thick ridges dragging along gummy walls, you almost swallow your tongue. He’s so big - the biggest you’ve ever had.

Every inch is a struggle, a victory. He’s not patient, he’s not kind. You don’t want it any other way, spread so wide your pussy flutters pathetically, trying to push him out.

Then the fat head grazes past the rough patch of your g-spot, sliding home to kiss your cervix. Your knees lock around his ribs, your head tossing back as a high-pitched whine punches its way out of your throat.

“A-Ah! I can’t — oh shit — you’re so,” you babble. “Too much!”

An ache spears deep, roots behind your navel.

“Heh, you asked for it, sweetheart. Look at me.” A scarred thumb wicks away a tear as you peel your eyes open with a sniffle. “That’s it. Shit, you look s’pretty when you cry.”

He licks his skin clean, uses his wet thumb to reach between you and roll the pad over your abused clit. You jump, sliding up on his shaft only for gravity to drag you back down with a solid smack of skin, your limbs jello soft.

The motion slams him deeper and slick drips from you in a sticky gush to soak his balls. You cry out, reedy thin.

Cooper grunts, warns, “You keep doing that and we’re not stoppin’ til you’re dripping cum.”

Though the thick haze of chem and syrupy sweet pleasure, you cobble together a grin and lick your way into his mouth. Tangle your tongues and suck as your hips arch into his. “Please, ruin me,” you breathe.

A possessive greed glints at you from the depths of his hangman eyes.

“Don’t go sayin’ I didn’t warn you, sweetheart,” he promises.

[leclerc-hs]

brothers bff!charles sneak peek 👀

just want to give you guys something since i’ve been SO slow with writing recently. so i feel that you guys deserve sneak peeks ❤️ it’s to THIS

For a few moments, it was just you. You and the sun. You and the gentle breeze caressing your heated skin. You and the soothing sound of the calm waters, a tranquil melody that enveloped you in serenity. You were at peace. 

The bliss of solitude didn’t last long as you felt a shadow descend upon your body, as if a cloud had suddenly blocked out the sun.

“Mon ange, you are burned.”

Your eyes were shut behind the dark sunglasses, but you didn’t need to open them to know that voice. The voice sent a cascade of butterflies fluttering in your stomach almost instantly. Despite the burn creeping on your cheeks from the sun, a telltale blush threatened to give away the sudden rush of emotions stirring within you.

Slipping the sunglasses up onto your head, using them as a makeshift headband, allowing your eyes to connect with a mesmerizing shade of green. In that moment, time seemed to freeze as you were ensnared by the profound depth of those affectionate, verdant eyes. Green—the color that stirs a vibrant vitality within you, invoking a sense of renewal and energy. Their gaze penetrated your soul, igniting a whirlwind of emotions that swept through you like a gentle breeze through a lush, verdant meadow.

You observed as his gaze transversed your form, starting from your eyes, then descending along the curve of your nose, down to the graceful line of your neck and the delicate contours of your collarbones. His eyes lingered on your breasts for a fraction longer than usual, sending a tingle of awareness coursing through you, before swiftly returning to meet your gaze once more. A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, hinting at a silent understanding or amusement.

xoxo lmk thoughts and anything you would like to see happen in this!!!

i would really appreciate hearing from y’all!!!

[itsyourvalerie]

Hello! I know not a lot of people like him because yk but may I request a Valentino x Female Reader romance?

Like basically the hazbin hotel crew was figuring out how to get Angel Dust out of his contract with Valentino and they decide to go to Reader because Angel said that shes the most cooperating vee-

So reader is one of the vees and is a dance choreographer and owns the souls of her dancers

And while the hazbin crew is on their way to her studio they don't know that the three other vees are there watching the reader teaching her dancers

Yeah the crew got there and Angel spotted the vees there so the crew tried not to get noticed and eventually saw the reader just dancing with demons behind her trying to copy her

They overheard the vees conversation and just Valentino worshipping the reader and the crew is just shocked of Valentino's relationship with the reader, pretty please 😇🤗

Also Val and Reader are in a relationship :p

Thank youu! ❤

HI MY LOVE!! im so sorry this request took so long i have been thinking how to put it together and i still don't quite like the way it came out and im sorry if its not what you imagined. Hope you like it tho ❤️

---

Valentino x female reader

warnings: none

---

As the Hazbin Hotel crew (minus alastor, because he could care less) ventured through the bustling streets of Hell, their mission weighed heavily on their minds. They were determined to free Angel Dust from his nefarious contract with Valentino, and they knew that their best chance lay with y/n, one of the notorious "Vees" known for her cooperation with the underworld's elite.

Unknown to them, y/n was not only a Vee but also a dance choreographer, revered for her captivating performances and owning the souls of her loyal dancers. As they approached her studio, they were unaware of the presence of the other Vees lurking in the shadows.

Inside the studio, y/n stood at the center of the room, her graceful movements commanding the attention of her demonic dancers.

As Angel Dust spotted the other Vees observing from the sidelines, a wave of apprehension washed over him. He signaled this friends to keep quiet, not wanting to draw attention to their presence.

They watched in silence as y/n danced, her movements fluid and mesmerizing. But their focus soon shifted as they overheard the Vees' conversation, filled with unsettling praises and worshipping of y/n by none other than Valentino himself.

"Isn't she divine?" Vox whispered eagerly, his eyes gleaming with admiration as he stared at the dancing female.

Valentino's voice cut through the air like a sinister whisper, a smirk on his face and a cigarette between his two fingers, his tone laced with reverence. "She's a masterpiece, a true gem of Hell. I've never seen anything quite like her." He praised.

Shock and disbelief washed over Angel and everyone else (even Vox and Velvette) as they listened to Valentino's twisted admiration for y/n, realizing the extent of his influence over her and the dangerous game she was unwittingly playing.

As the vees continued their conversation, discussing the power and prestige that came with being in y/n's favor, the Hazbin crew exchanged worried glances. They knew they had to tread carefully if they were to stand any chance of freeing Angel Dust from Valentino's grasp, now that y/n was in the game.

But amidst the chaos and deception, one thing became clear: y/n was not just a vee caught in Valentino's web—she was a key player in the intricate dance of power and manipulation that defined life in Hell. And if the crew wanted to free Angel Dust from his contract, they would need to navigate this treacherous dance with caution and cunning. Which meant to get y/n's help as soon as possible.

[aphroditelovesu]

I'm so glad you write for shadow and bone now! can i request yandere the darkling/ Alexander Morozova with a reader who is not grisha? it can be platonic or romantic..your choice 🌷

''You are my salvation.'' - Darkling.

❝ ✟ — lady l: I just wanted to say that I am completely hungry for content from this man and I hope you guys like how I wrote this headcanon ❤️❤️.

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of death and torture, mildly suggestive, unhealthy romantic relationship.

❝✟pairing: yandere!darkling/aleksander morozova x otkazat’sya!reader.

Aleksander didn't like that at first. He didn't hate you, he hated the fact that you were mortal, an otkazat'sya, but not you, never you. Perhaps he resents the fact that you're human, but he didn't hate you. He could never hate you no matter what you did.

He met you by pure coincidence for you, but for him it was fate. Destiny, maybe the Saints, brought you to him. You were the newest cartographer in the Second Army and you were still getting used to it all, being in the army and with the grishas. You didn't hate them, but you couldn't say you loved them, you were neutral towards them.

There was nothing special about you. Just another mortal serving the military like most did. You didn't hate being a cartographer, but you couldn't say you loved it. It was your duty and that was it. Aleksander has paid attention to you since your first day, but you haven't noticed General Kirigan's curious and terrifying gazes on you.

He was content to just watch you from the shadows for a while. Learning everything he could about you that he could later use to get closer to you. You totally missed his looks, the way he seemed to devour you. He was the General and you were a simple cartographer, there would hardly be any interaction between the two of you. But there was, and he was hungry for more.

The first real interaction the two of you had was during a cold night at the military camp. You couldn't sleep and decided to take a walk, late at night and when most soldiers and grishas were asleep. Except you and him. You sat in a secluded spot and shivered in the cold. When a blanket was draped over your shoulders, you looked up to the one who gave it to you to thank them and found Aleksander's mesmerizing eyes watching you intently.

Aleksander never forgot your shy look and lowered head, as if you were too scared to speak to him. He never forgot your calm, low voice when you thanked him for the blanket, as if it was the only act of kindness you had ever received in your whole life. And he found himself wanting more, desperately wanting to hear your voice and the sweet sounds you could make. He didn't understand why he was so attracted to you, he hated the otkazat'sya, so why did he see himself wanting your attention and love?

He didn't understand his feelings for you, how desperately he wanted to protect and care for you. He's never felt this way before about anyone but himself. Aleksander just knew that he wanted you, that he needed you with him one way or another. He desperately needed you and he didn't know why, but that only you had to be his. And you would be his.

He's extremely overprotective of you, but how could he not be? You were so young, so helpless and so human. It was his duty to look after you to make sure you were well cared for and fed. Needless to say that you would get the best rooms, the best clothes and the best food. No one can even think of inflicting any harm on you, whether human or grisha, they all know you are off limits and must be protected or they will suffer the Darkling's wrath. And his wrath is not taken lightly, especially when you're involved.

Aleksander adores you, he loves you, or so he believes, but he hated your humanity. He hated that he was deeply involved with an otkazat'sya, but eventually he came to see the advantage in it. You weren't grisha, you couldn't defend yourself against him or run away if those were yours wishes, you were at his mercy and he grew to like that very much. You were in his hands as much as he was in yours, and he loved that. You belonged to him and he could do what he wanted with you, shape you any way he wanted and he wouldn't have to worry about you rebelling against him. At least that's how he thinks.

He'll manipulate you with no qualms, whispering sweet words in your ear as he worships your body and the next moment he's pouring venom into your ear, saying things like how perfect you are, how you should never leave his side. How he is the only one who loves you and who will take care of you for your whole life. How you were made for each other and no one deserves you more than him. You must always remain loyal to him and he will give you the world if you ask him to.

You became everything to him as you grew closer and closer. Aleksander will become more and more obsessive and possessive of you. He won't like it one bit if someone flirts with you, otkazat'sya or grisha, you're his and he won't let anyone steal you from him. He will show no mercy to anyone, destroying them in horrible ways, to set an example to anyone who has bad intentions towards you. You are his and he is his.

This isn't how you planned your love story with General Kirigan to go, but you're too wrapped up in his clutches, in his promises of love, to realize how wrong it is. You were so in love with him that you never noticed or cared about anything but him and the manipulations and horrors he will commit in the name of love. None of that will matter because you're together. An otkazat'sya and a grisha together forever. It would be you against the world and Aleksander will be your only company, the only one you will ever need.

[artemis-potnia-theron]

How I perceive different deities' energies

(based on personal experiences)

Apollon ☀️: Light coming up from somewhere deep in the gut. An ache that almost burns. And it might if I stare too long. Swelling gold. A chorus of music too perfect to be written, words that could shatter my tongue if I tried to speak them.

Brigid 🔥: A lump at the back of my throat. Tears in my eyes while I smile. Joy and grief mixed together under my ribcage. Melodies sung through the ages, and through tears. Warmth at my back and a hand on my cheek. Baked bread. Garden herbs. Clear water from a well. An embrace that could last an age.

Nyx 🌌: The low, echoing hum of something eternal. Something too ancient to comprehend and too overwhelming to be perceived. Endless. Ethereal. Peace and chaos. Quiet and thunderous. Coffee. Red wine. Onyx.

The Morrigan 🐦‍⬛: A chant of words I can't understand, spoken in a language I never knew and never forgot. The cold steel of a blade's edge. Sharp, precise, and unwavering. Her language of secrets and ancient knowledge could swallow you whole if you let it.

Hekate 🗝: Whispers. Shadows against candlelight. A flickering flame that knows how to dance in the wind and never extinguish. The smell of old parchment and herbs. A ripple on the water. As intricate and mesmerizing as a spider's web. Silent and sharp like a viper. A bark and a growl heard from somewhere too far away for me to see.

Aine 🧚🏼‍♀️: Sunlight breaking over the surface of a river. Citrus. Wildflowers. Fresh grass. Wind sweeping over a meadow. Chimes. Fruit trees finally coming into bloom. The juice from an apple trickling down my neck. Laughter. So much laughter.

Aphrodite ❤️: Flower petals. Something sweet and soft like honey that trickles down the back of my throat and seeps into my belly. It spreads all through me like starlight trapped in my veins. Bells. Bliss. A want that could dissolve me. A yearning that would hurt if it didn't taste so lovely. The pain feels like a lifetime away.

Tiamat 🐉: Clusters of stars. Endless reflections of light on the water's surface. The deep song of a whale that echoes through the pulse of the sea. An eye that gazes down from the cosmos.

Caer Ibormeith 🦢: A lullaby that has been with me for longer than I know. A kiss pressed to my forehead. That place between sleeping and awake, between real and not. Cool air at twilight. Dew on the glass before sunrise. Clean fabric. A veil. Flying over the world as it sleeps.

Artemis 🦌: Freedom. Breath-taking, devastating freedom. A stag drinking fresh water from a spring. A doe and her fawn, sleeping as the songbirds chirp at dawn. A rush. An absolute rush like mountain air in my blood. Fireflies in an open field. Bones bleaching in the sun. The thrill of a wolf pack chasing its prey. The moon over the ocean at night. Teeth. Bird calls. Wildflowers. A great bear that walks in the stars. Hymns only beasts can sing. Jasmine and animal fur and the midnight air.

[fanficdelulus]

Introductions

Fate (Gojo x Fem! Reader)

[Name] [Surname] is the newest student at Jujustu High, adopted by Yaga from America after he learns of your powers. Promised of the chance at new life in Tokyo and a way to harness her powers, [Name]’s life is about to change in ways she’d never dreamed

———————————————————————

Where's Shoko?" Yaga gruffly questioned as he entered the classroom, the anticipation in the air palpable.

"Who knows?" both boys piped up in casual unison as Yaga made his way towards his podium.

"No matter," Yaga continued, his voice carrying the weight of a solemn purpose. "This is a mission for the three of you."

"What are you talking about?" Gojo questioned, his curiosity piqued.

But before Yaga could respond, a soft, almost reverent "wow" escaped past Gojo's lips as you entered the room. Your presence was a beacon of vibrancy, your curls bouncing with every graceful step, a mesmerizing dance that commanded attention. Gold hoops glistening underneath the overhead lighting as all eyes turned toward you as you made your way towards the front of the classroom.

"Good morning," you greeted with a warm smile, your voice carrying a gentle, welcoming cadence. "My name is [Name] [Surname], and I'm looking forward to learning as much as I can from the both of you." With a graceful bow, you introduced yourself before promptly taking a seat in the empty chair next to Geto.

Gojo, momentarily captivated by your presence, refocused on the mission at hand. "Alright, three objectives," Yaga began, his voice firm. "First, [Name] is prohibited from using her curse technique unless deemed necessary by the higher-ups. During the mission, she will have plenty of opportunities to learn from both of you."

Pausing for emphasis, Yaga leaned across the podium, his hands gripping its sides. "Your other two objectives are; Master Tengen and the Star Plasma Vessel are a perfect match. Escort the girl and erase her."

Gojo, however, couldn’t hide his annoyance at the situation. Muttering under his breath, just audible enough for Geto to hear. “Babysitting duty. Great.” While Gojo’s irritation was palpable, Geto seemed unfazed. Simply nodding his head in acknowledgment as he understood that this mission required not only power but patience and guidance as well.

The weight of the mission's purpose settled upon the classroom, casting a somber shadow over the proceedings. You, Gojo, and Geto were now bound together by a mission that held the fate of the Jujutsu world in its balance, and you had just taken your first step into this perilous journey.

————————————————

Hi!! In light of #JJK236 I thought I finally get started on this fic, so this will be a multi one-shot collection! I appreciate any love and support and I hope you all enjoy what’s to come! ❤️

ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

[probablyintensemuses]

INCOMING: A DESPERATE COLLEGE STUDENTS OATHBOUND PREDICTIONS!!!!

CC @mageofspace__ on IG

TRACY!! I JUST FELL TO MY KNEES IN THE MIDDLE OF WALMART! THE WHOLE GANG!! I’m so happy to see Valec, Alice, Will, & Mariah in the flesh like wtf! But while we are here, I want to talk about some of my Oathbound predictions…because I can. ❤️⚔️💙

P.S. IF YOU HAVEN’T READ LB OR BM I SUGGEST YOU DO NOT CONTINUE! Spoilers ahead!

• Okay first, I truly believe that Bree has had her squire and kingsmage all along, Nick and Sel. I mean just with the relationships between those three, there is no way it goes any other way.

also, Alice will wake from her coma and have somehow inherited powers from Will as she was LITERALLY breathing his aether signature in. Like I’m not 100% sure how that would work, but we’ve seen it in media before, take Monica Rambeau and Wanda’s hex for an example! Maybe that interaction with magic will awaken Alice's own unique magic too, or maybe it's closely related to Bree again how the Mesmer did too in LB.

Regardless, when she awakens I think bby girl will be given an even more important role in the finale of this series. Maybe like being Will's squire...

• it’s going to come out that not only is shadow daddy, IYKYK not spoiling for potential new readers who have no sense of self-preservation and are reading this anyways, is not only Sel's father but VALECHEZ’s! Like not only would that be pure comedy considering how they were at each other's NECKS in BM, but it makes sense as to why Sel was succumbing to his demonia so fast, faster than others, maybe because a little more demon than others…

•I think this new magic system that Tracy is cooking up is going to tap into Natasia and Faye’s relationship a bit more and even Sel and Bree’s.

I also think it’s going to be the solution to not only Sel’s demonia, but Bree’s bloodmark, and even abatement and all these fucking legendborn oaths. I mean think about the word OATH, practically meaning something one HAS to abide by. Vera took an oath of sorts with the blood mark “one daughter at a time for all time.” The legend born and their oath of service and all this, as I call it, greedy magic which shortens their life spans, the Merlins too! What if, just what if, Faye and Natasia found a way to combine both their forms of magic (root + aether + blood craft) and created something entirely new? Something so potent and powerful, defying these “oaths” or what you could call them, curses, to cure all these things…and what if since Bree is from Faye’s lineage, sel from Natasia, what if they can do it together too.

• I think we will learn more about the Morgaine. More on Nick….hmm. A lot of LB fans keep calling him boring, but with his mom's disappearance, and the fact that Tracy is too good of an author to simply leave his arc hanging, I don't trust it. Maybe he will even go rogue, I'm not too sure ATP, but don't sleep on Nick!

• Lastly for my final predictions…more like a pipe dream. I really, for the life of me, need Bree to pull a Wanda from episodes 8-9 of WandaVision with Shadow Daddy.

We know Bree is smart and clever, this ain’t new! So, I need her to take what she has learned from shadow daddy, and then pull a clean uno reverse, and get out of there! EXPEDITIOUSLY!

Then from there, I need her to find Sel and Nastia (preferably in some cute cabin in the woods, and Natasia needs to be a MILF) this revelation of Bree's survival prompts Natasia to discuss the above ^^^ She and Bree get to work! Sel is now cured and they can get these oaths removed!!! Once these oaths are removed, the REGENTS ARE TOAST, TOR TOO! Then we get to work on Camlann in book 4! Cuz that’s how tf Tracy does it! Period!!

THESE ARE JUST MY PREDICTIONS, NONE OF THESE ARE CANON!! All I have to say is I'm fucking so excited about this book and even though it's still two years out I'm trusting Tracy's expertise to bring us something DE-LI-CIOUS! Also is it too much to ask that if this is adapted for television to have it animated, we know how much Tracy loves and takes influence from anime... it's only fair, and I feel can make for a more accurate and dynamic visual medium.

That's all for now. PEACE.

[aloneatpeace]

SHADOW OF THE PAST

Chapter one

┌───── •✧✧• ─────┐

New home

└───── •✧✧• ─────┘

    

.→✒️:★: ͜͡✿͜͡ →. So this is a fic as usual the main protagonist is reader along with Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester from supernatural. There will other characters as well .

Im hoping to write this fic as horror / paranormal au . Hopefully it come together like that .

So that's it enjoy the fic please please tell me what you think and i appreciate every single of you reading my all fics thank you ❤️

                             

           

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ

The warm sunlight's glade through the open windows curtains as you and you and your love of your life lay peacefully. Never in million year you thought that you will get to live the dream life you always wanted with guy you hopelessly and enormously in love with, an energic dog that always love to steal your attention every time he waltzes in, a peaceful home where you don't have to worry about anything nor your family chewing on every breath you take or friends who always around when they only wanted something. This is all you wanted, needed and dreamed off.

"What is going on that pretty head of yours? "

you heard his in raspy morning voice, The voice that you would love to hear for all eternity. You glanced at him to see his mesmerizing green eyes staring back you.

" Just thinking about how life is awful back then "

You said with laughing following in behind he joins in with you. Seeing the pure happiness on your face making his heart flutters. He could help but put his arms around you and pulled you closer to his side and you both sigh at feeling of being in each other's arms. The pure blissful moment was interpreted when a golden fluffy ball come in between the two of you and made himself home in your chest.

" Sometimes, I wonder if he is trying to steal you from me "

Your husband says and you chuckle and rub your dog's ear.

"Aww but I love you babe, don't worry your still my favorite"

max who probably smarter than average dogs you looked at you with what you assume 'are you serious ' face  at you.

"I'm kidding" you whispered

"I heard that " comes from your husband who getting himself out of the bed and going to bathroom.

"So are you going to work today or are you going help unpack the boxes because there is a lot and i don't want to do it all by myself" the two of you moved in new house for fresh start leaving everything behind and having new start is what you always wanted and luckily your husband also happy about that idea.

" Trust me I don't want leave you alone especially when we are new in this area and doesn't really know how the people in here. But you know I have to go to the station".

It's true after all being with you where he felt more alive and happier and your happiness also what he gives importance to. Starting a relationship with you, falling in love with you, marrying you was the best things that happened to him and he wanted to give you everything and make you smile every day.

" It's okey Dean, I'm so thankful for what you done for me and love you so much "

You said coming behind him wrapping arms around his bare middle.

" I love you too sweetheart, you know I do anything for you my soul "

He turn around to see you lifting your chin up to look at him and he brushes his thump on your lower lip as he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss that rich in love and passion, one that makes your knees weak and heart to rush. his hands moving down your body desperately try get closer to as possible.

tugging on the shirt that he wore last night. his mind racing with last night's memory of how you looked up to him with the needy look on your face as he gives himself to you and how you tasted like fine dessert that still lingering in his tongue every time making him wanting more and take him on another level of ecstasy.

The bliss full moment where neither of you don't want to leave but with Shakey breathe you parts away from him. Before you can speak, he picks you up making you squeak as he continues to move a loud break the two of you as both turn to look at your dog who running towards you. You both look at each before laughing out loud.

"See every time he does this shit, man she is my wife. find someone else"

Dean put his head in neck as you still in his arms as you still laughing.

" Laugh all you want, wait till I get one puppy who loves me and I give all my love and attention to the puppy " he says with a challenging look as he puts you down.

you exit the bathroom to bedroom squeezing your dog in big hug as both make way your way to kitchen.

" Don't burn down the kitchen please we still new " He shouts form bathroom.

" No promise " you say back. You can hear his laugh as you made it to the kitchen.

You look around "That's a lot of boxes "

If your memory was correct, you put some milk and bread in the fridge with couples of things that you don't remember. As you open the fridge you hear sounds of running in living room

"Hey,no running around the room max"you say as you collect the things you need in hands and close the fridge with your foot. As you turn you see max standing in top of one of the boxes in the kitchen his ears sharp staring at living room and starts to bark.

" Hey boy, you want something " He turn to you and come towards you and lay down beside your foot looking up you with round eyes.

You crouch down next to him give him pat on his head.

" How about we have a walk around and how some fun time? How about that" He barks with enthusiasm.

" Good boy " You go back to making breakfast as dean comes wrapping his around your waist giving a kiss on your head.

" You didn't burn down the kitchen woah that's an improvement".

As you open your mouth to defend yourself he cuts you off with kiss" Don't say it's one time it still happened "He starts to take a sip of his coffee and hums.

"Okey I won't, hey I was thinking maybe taking max for a walk get know the place around "you said take a sip of your own coffee.

" Yeah, that good idea, but if you need anything don't hesitate to call okey " he said finishing his own coffee and having some breakfast.

You slap his butt when he gets up "are you assaulting a officer?'" he dramatically gasp at you

"Oh shut, up as if you don't like it "

He shakes his head at you before getting up to leave and as he passes, he rubs max on his back." Hey buddy take care of our girl will ya "and move to the front door.

" Good luck with work I really hope everything will work out I really likes this place" you said following behind him with files on hand.

You hand that him as you reach the front step

" Me too sweetheart, I love you, now give me a good luck kiss" he says pulling you towards him with a smile on his face.

You let out a small giggle and kiss him passionately.

He parts ways from you giving you cheeky wink and get in his car and look back at you mouthing 'I love you ' you repeat the same as drive away.

Both of you not seeing that shadow that watching you form the inside.

You make your way inside the house.Max was biting a box that labeled his name

" alright we unbox some and then we take a walk "a bark was all your answer.

Opening max's box first you give him his toys and move on to next and then to next.

You don't know how many hours passed but you are down to the last box.

You collect the wrapping and torn boxes into a trash bag and walk towards the trash can to dumb it.

"Are you the new resident of this house?" a female voice behind you said. You turn around seeing a woman standing there with a smile on her face.

"Yeah, we just moved here." You tell her feeling her presence only out of pure curiosity

"I'm Amy Peterson, I live down the street with my family. What's your name?"

You tell her your name "well, welcome to our neighborhood. It's a very quiet here but its peaceful. And you don't have worry about noisy neighbor since all the house are in a decent amount of distance"

Nodding your head at the it's also a main reason you and dean decided to move to her. "Yeah, it's nice..." before you can continue max comes running towards you when he saw you chatting with stranger abandoned his toy that he is chewing

You ruffle his hair beside his ears as he stands next you. "Oh, he is beautiful. is it you and this cute alone here?"

You shake your head with a smile on your face "no I'm with my husband."

"you're married, what does he do?" she asks

"Yeah, he is cop" you said proudly

She gives a wide smile "that's wonderful. Good thing now we have cop living here" she laughs. "See you soon, I have to go before my kids flip the house upside down the"

You sigh at her retrieving foam "well good to know we have nice neighbor. Isn't it."

Getting in shower you let the cold water pour down your head and shoulders washing away the soreness. You change into leggings and white sweater combing your hair until you're satisfied with a result. As you promised you took max out for a walk.

                                  

Dean was getting to know his co-workers at the station. He assigned with a man named Castiel. "So how you like in it here?" Castile, ask he shows the towns map and some report files with data of some local criminals. "Too early to answer that" he answers observing the file.

"I suppose it is, but our crime rate not that high aside from some random robberies other than that it's quite peaceful here."

"Yeah, my wife always wanted live in quite nice place" dean said "You have wife huh! Seems like those ladies don't know that yet" castile said making dean look up to see two females smiling at their direction dean and Castiel share a chuckle.

You were watching tv when dean came in, max run towards dean huffing demanding for pets from the man.

"You unpacked everything huh?" dean ask he take off his uniform

You nod without taking your eyes off the tv "yep, and I met one of our neighbors and took max out for a walk"

Finally taking off his uniform he pushes your legs apart and lay between them head laying on your chest you run your fingers through his hair making him groan. "Who is this neighbor?"

"Amy Peterson, just street down. How was your day?"

"It was great, apparently there aren't really much of crime here, so that a good thing. My partner also from here castile, seems like great guy" dean glance up at you with a serene look on his face "seems like everything is in favor, baby" he takes in your peaceful relaxed face, that was gone for a past couple of moths but its back now and he never felt so grateful for that.

Your eyes find his face a large grin on your face so it's transferred to his lips as he pulls himself towards you pressing his full lips on yours slowly knowing that he has all time in the world just savoring the feeling of you. You tilt your head side to get deeper hands gripping each other.

Dean hands grip your hip as he presses himself closer to you to feel you near him as close as possible, his grip get stronger as he starts to tug down the waistband of the leggings something fall down in the hallway.

"Shit something broke?" you get with dean as you both walk towards the hallway, a broken glass from the picture that you hung scattered on the floor.

Max walks towards it but dean held him back not wanting him to get hurt "hey you both stay there. I'll clean it up" he said

"You sure?" you ask he nods at you. Taking max with you, you both returns to couch max lie next you his eyes blinking up to you. You ruffle his hair cuddles to him. 

Series masterlist

[avanatural]

That Simple

Part 8

Series summary: Beau goes to Y/N, a new friend of his, for some dating advice. Is the charming new Sheriff gonna get the date that he’s hoping for?  

Pairing: Beau Arlen x female Reader

Category: Fluff, angst

Word count: 3.3k

Chapter warnings: Guns, graphic descriptions of armed robbery, arguing, cursing

A/N: Welcome to part 8! Thank you to everyone who still joins Beau and Y/N on this journey ❤️ This time, there are not-so-simple bumps in the road. Wanna be added to my Beau tag list? Send me an ask!

Part 7 | Series Masterlist | Beau Arlen Masterlist | Part 9

Main Masterlist

A low hum broke through Y/N’s closed lips. The dark sky above her was glimmering with shiny stars. A checkered woolen blanket was draped over her legs. The fire was crackling before her, tossing dancing shadows across the gravel in the open driveway.

“You cold?”, his deep voice entered her ears over the soft mumbles coming from the speakers.

“No, I’m good.” Y/N bumped her nose into his neck, nuzzling Beau’s hot skin. “Thanks to my human heater.”

He chuckled, making her feel the low rumbling waves of his voice, and clenched his arm around her shoulders. His bearded cheek landed on top of her head, and he shortly closed his eyes, reveling in her warmth.

The two of them were having a movie night outside the Sheriff’s trailer. They were cuddled up on one of his loungers in front of the fire, looking at the screen they’d put up.

While one of the more boring scenes was playing, Beau placed his pointer finger under Y/N’s chin and tipped up her head. He claimed her lips in a slow kiss, making her moan happily into his mouth. 

As their tongues mingled, Y/N could taste all her favorite flavors – mint, love, and desire – which made it even harder for her to break their kiss. Reluctantly, with a hand on his chest, she pulled away from her partner. 

Beau’s plump lips remained pursed, chasing her mouth with a cute little pout.

Releasing a small giggle, Y/N tugged the blanket off her thighs and threw one of her legs over his waist. 

His eyebrows shot up, and he grinned, enjoying the promising turn of events. When she hoisted herself onto his lap, he clasped the back of her neck, thick fingers tangling in her hair.

“Well, hello there,” he husked, staring up at her with pure awe. He was never going to get tired of making out with his divine Goddess. Beau couldn’t imagine a future in which he didn’t worship the ground she walked on.

When he leaned in, his ample lips drawn to her delicate skin, Y/N arched her neck to give him more access. The bristles of his beard scratched the spot beneath her ear, the soft sting soothed by his juicy lips. She was never going to get tired of the love he showered her with.

As she tilted her head, her eyes fluttering, she spotted a gorgeous piece of machinery parked next to Beau’s trailer. She withdrew from his loving kisses to get a closer look, and realized that what had caught her eye was a black motorcycle.

Beau noticed her movements stiffening, and removed his mouth from her neck. His gaze followed hers, only to end up on his precious motorbike. His lips raised in a half-smirk. “You like her?”

“She’s beautiful,” Y/N responded, a grin stretching across her cheeks, “Can we take her for a ride sometime?”

Mesmerized by the glow in her smile, Beau studied her face intently. “I’m ready if you are,” he declared, gentle fingers brushing some hair from her neck.

A cheerful flash of energy made the corners of her mouth wiggle up. “What? Now?”

“Why not?” His jade orbs twinkled, reflecting the fire, taking on a youthful spirit. “Let’s go on an adventure, darlin’.”

Excited laughter gathered in her chest and bounced off of the helmet covering her head. She was free like a bird, her arms slung tightly around Beau’s torso as they rode through the night. On the back of his motorcycle, the wind whipping around her body, Y/N felt like she was taking over the world.

Underneath his helmet, Beau was sporting a grin of his own. So far, he hadn’t gotten much of a chance to explore the surroundings of his new home. And doing it together with Y/N, going on a midnight ride with his new love, her laughter against his back, her arms around his waist – it was a dream come true. They sped away from the sign that said “Welcome to Helena” without a care, chasing freedom.

Neither of them knew how much time had passed when Beau swerved to the left and pulled into the parking lot of a gas station. 

As they rolled toward one of the gas pumps, Y/N took a look around the isolated area. A few cars were parked next to the other gas pumps, waiting for their owners to return. It was silent aside from the rumbling of the motorbike’s engine.

Steadying the motorcycle, Beau let Y/N get down first, then swung his leg over the seat and followed suit.  

She took off her helmet and removed some hair that was draped across her mouth. “Everything okay?”

“Just gotta get some gas,” he explained, pulling off his own helmet. The smirk on his face was flashing brighter than the lights adorning the gas station. “I didn’t expect to take my girls for a ride today.” His hand gently patted the seat they’d just occupied together.

Bewitched by his smiling face, Y/N got up on the tips of her toes to peck his full lips. 

Beau groaned playfully and stole another kiss, and another, making her chuckle softly. After sending a lighthearted wink her way, he finally moved to pump his beloved motorcycle full of gas. 

Y/N kept her eyes trained on him, drinking in how his black jacket strained across his broad back, and how flawless his ruffled hair looked under the shop’s neon lights.

Once the motorcycle was good and ready to continue the couple’s love journey, Beau took Y/N’s hand in his. Fingers intertwined, they entered the gas station.  

There was a handful of customers strewn across the little shop, a few of them waiting to pay for gas, others gathering some drinks and snacks for themselves.

“You want somethin’ to drink?”, Beau asked his girlfriend, squeezing her hand like he did so very often.

“I’d love a can of Coke.” Y/N returned his sweet gesture, squeezing his large hand before letting go. While Beau approached the fridge to grab some soft drinks, she joined the line leading up to the cash desk.

As she waited, she anticipated going on more motorcycle rides with Beau. She wanted to show him the best places around Helena. Her favorite picnic spot, the best diners, the corny little antique shop, the secret lake that shone beautifully beneath the moonlight.

While Y/N was mentally creating a list of places to explore with Beau, a dark figure lurked around in the parking lot, hiding in plain sight. As the black flickering shadow crept toward the glass door, it caught her attention.

When she turned her head, Y/N spotted a man on the outside. His body was draped in dark clothing. The presence of a stranger wearing black wasn’t all too alarming, much rather, it was the presence of a ski mask on his face that spiked her nerves. An ice-cold shiver creeped up her spine as the man stomped toward the gas station. He looked like he was on a mission. Her intuition made her stomach turn. Run. When he suddenly pulled a handgun from his jacket, about to walk into the shop, the blood froze in her veins. “Oh, fuck,” she exclaimed, alerting the other customers. It was too late to get out of there. For any of them.

Beau, who was in the back of the store, had just stuck his hand into the refrigerator to grab some drinks. He was startled by the alarmed sound of Y/N’s voice and retreated his fingers, letting the refrigerator slam shut. He turned on his heels, his bowlegs soon jogging down the aisle to check on his girl. He rounded the corner just in time to see the man dressed in black walk through the door, gun raised.

Beau didn’t think twice, instantly surging forward, his hands already reaching for Y/N to pull her out of the picture.

The robber, however, aimed his gun at the Sheriff before the latter could get to his girlfriend. 

“You stay right where you are, big guy,” the strange man growled. When Beau took another step, still weighing his options, the man angrily raised his voice, “I said STAY BACK!”

The other customers in the store collectively flinched and gasped at the outburst, eyes wide with fear.

The Sheriff lifted his hands obediently and took a step back, even though every fiber of his being was screaming at him to get to Y/N. She was a civilian, and she was standing way too close to the source of threat. Beau needed her to be as far away from the criminal’s radar as only possible.

“You,” the robber addressed the cashier, “Put the money in here.” He tossed a black bag onto the cash desk, his movements quick and jumpy. When the cashier hesitated, he yelled, “Hurry the fuck up!”

“You don’t wanna do this,” Beau spoke up, reclaiming the robber’s attention. He let his instincts guide him. If he could get a good look at the man, perhaps he could figure him out and catch him in the end.

With the robber being distracted, the cashier took his chance and let his twitching finger push the panic button that would alert the police.

To everyone’s dismay, the robber caught the cashier’s hushed movements out of the corner of his eye. “What the fuck did you just do, huh?!” The veins in his neck popped visibly, angry eyes throwing daggers through the slits of his mask. In a rush of fury and desperation, he grabbed one of the customers, bending his arm around their neck and pointing the gun at their head.

Once again, gasps and whimpers echoed through the aisles, flooding the small store with dread.

All at once, Beau’s access to air was cut off. The blood was drained from his face, making him turn pale as a ghost. To his absolute horror, the customer that the criminal had chosen as his hostage was Y/N.

The Sheriff’s heart clenched violently as he watched the expression on his girlfriend’s face transform from scared to horrified. Instant regret thrashed through Beau’s chest. If only he hadn’t stopped at that particular gas station. If only he hadn’t taken Y/N on a motorcycle ride.

“You better put the money in the bag before I blow her FUCKING BRAINS OUT!”, the robber yelled, making Y/N wince in his grip.

The cashier, struck with a strong case of bad conscience, emptied the cash register, throwing bills and coins into the bag as fast as he humanly could.

“The police will be here any minute,” Beau spoke up, slowly raising his hands up higher while he stepped toward the robber.

“No shit, Sherlock!”, the masked man barked, muscles shivering violently at this point.

“Don’t do anything you’re gonna regret,” Beau pressed, taking another cautious step closer, “If you’re quick, you might manage to take the money and take off. But you gotta let her go.” He saw a crack in the robber’s tough act, whose Adam’s apple bobbed with insecurity. Beau prayed that he could get the criminal to give in and let Y/N go. “Listen to me,” the Sheriff spoke through dry lips, “If you let her go, I’ll make sure no one’s gonna come after you.”

Beads of sweat were starting to slide down the robber’s neck. “What, are you a cop or something?”, he snapped.

“Or something,” Beau responded, palms growing clammier as the disguised man tightened his grasp on Y/N, “I’m not from around ‘ere. I don’t know who you are or why you’re doin’ this. And I’m not gonna look into it. You have my word. Just let her go.”

“You think I’m gonna fucking trust you?”, the angry stranger demanded, close to losing control entirely, “You’re just gonna screw me over the second I let go of her!” His voice was trembling just as harshly as the gun that he was pressing against Y/N’s temple. 

Now, it was Beau’s turn to break character. He gulped, struck by a lightning bolt of fear, his eyebrows squishing together helplessly. When he looked at his partner, trying to catch her eye, he noticed something on her face, something that overshadowed the fear he’d seen before. He could see some sort of spark, some defiance carved into her heavenly facial features. 

For a split second, Y/N looked down, checking out the robber’s stance and his grasp on her. 

The Sheriff swallowed his suspicions and shook his head at her. He couldn’t have her doing anything stupid.

But the shake of her boyfriend’s head did little to hold Y/N back. She exhaled the terror that burdened her chest, making room to inhale the steel-like focus that she needed to make her next move.

Then suddenly, just like Beau had taught her, she used her weight to pull the attacker down with her, catching him off-guard. When he bent forward, she took the opportunity to throw back her arm and elbow him in the face. An accidental shot was fired, barely passing Y/N and hitting one of the shelves. 

The other customers cried out and flinched, some of them putting their arms around each other for protection.

On impulse, Y/N grabbed the barrel of the gun, but she was unable to drag it out of the robber’s hold. They struggled for a second, until she kicked his knee as hard as she could, making him howl in pain. Finally, she was able to twist the weapon out of his hand. 

As soon as she pointed the handgun at the criminal’s head, it was snatched out of her hand. The weapon disappeared from her grasp so suddenly that she winced again. Right in the moment, time seemed to slow down. The reality of what she’d just done, of what she’d just risked, sank in.

When Y/N looked up, Beau was in her line of vision, his tall figure standing next to her, towering over everyone else like a knight in shining armor. His hands were now wrapped around the weapon, holding the robber at gunpoint. 

When the Sheriff pushed Y/N behind him with a swipe of his arm, she sighed, letting some adrenaline escape from her body. A sheen of cold sweat covered her skin, and she wrapped her arms around her shivering torso. 

“Y/N, what you did back there-“

“Beau, please.” Her feet sent her flying up the porch stairs, trying to flee his imminent lecture.

He followed, hot on her heels with rushed, worried steps. “You could’ve- Do you understand how that could’ve played out?”

Y/N paused in front her door and turned around abruptly, startling Beau. “I understand that better than you think.” For another second, she managed to hold his firm gaze. Then, her façade slipped from her grip, swept away in an almighty river of impending tears. Her lips started to quiver. “I’ve never been in a situation like that before. I just… I just wanted to… live. That’s all I knew.”

He breathed a heartfelt, unsteady sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. His heart was speeding like it was never going to calm down again. “Y/N, if you’re not trained for that kind of situation, you gotta stay put. You can’t just-“

“You trained me, didn’t you?”, she bit back, her voice cracking like little breaches in a porcelain doll’s skin, “You wanted me to be able to protect myself.”

“I wanted you to fight when someone tries to steal your bag,” he said, brows whirling as a familiar wave of anxiety hit him, “Not when someone puts a loaded gun to your head. What if he’d killed you?” He paused and swallowed the ball of racing nerves in his throat. “I can’t lose you," he whispered, no longer trusting his voice to make coherent sounds.

“Can we please not do this again?”, Y/N pleaded, his whispered words going straight over her head. Her vision was teary-eyed enough make Beau blurry in her sight. She tried hastily blinking away the burning droplets of salt. She knew she’d messed up, but she couldn’t take hearing once again how foolish her actions had been. She already knew she what she’d done was idiotic. All she was longing for was to be held, to be told that everything was fine. But it wasn’t.

At this point, Beau’s entire body slowed down. His narrowed eyes unclenched, his forehead relaxed, his two rows of teeth eased up on each other. Up until then, he’d been so tunnel-visioned by his concern that he’d failed to take a look at her. A real look. Finally, he spotted the anguish on her face, the liquid sadness in her gaze, the trembling of her brow. She had just escaped death. She was a mess, understandably. “Y/N…”

She heaved some air into her lungs, her chest taking two little sobbing jumps before she breathed out, “I just wanna go to sleep.” She turned her back and pulled her key from her pocket. Her shaky fingers inserted the key into the lock and opened the front door.

“Y/N…,” he repeated, his own voice now pleading.

But it was too late. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”, she asked, fleetingly meeting his gaze, and averting her eyes just as fast. 

Beau could tell it wasn’t really a question she was asking. He’d already been shut out with no way back in. “Yeah,” he croaked, following up the gravelly sound by clearing his throat. He wanted so badly to pull her into his arms, to hug her until the sun rose back up to announce a new, better day. But the soles of his boots were stuck on the floor. His hands were glued to his sides. And thus, he missed his chance.

“Good night, Beau,” her soft voice grazed his ears like an angel’s feather.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

Before long, the door was closed.

Beau remained on her porch for a solid five minutes before he regained his ability to move. His teary gaze alternated between staring out onto the street and back at the front door. He lost count of how many times his fingers reached for the doorbell, feeling the little nub with the blunt tips. But they never dared to apply any pressure, to actually ring the bell. Maybe Carla was right. He was crap at relationships. He’d grown to love Y/N, and he couldn’t bear the thought of pushing her too hard, of hurting her. But that night, he’d messed up. Again. 

Caught in a sorrowful trance, the Sheriff staggered down her porch, got back on his motorcycle and drove home. 

As Beau lay in bed later on, wide awake despite the early morning hours, his mind couldn’t get any rest.

Turning to his side, he took his phone from the nightstand. He’d grabbed it multiple times already, but he just couldn’t seem to find the right words, typing and erasing messages over and over again. That was, until he typed three simple words. Three simple words that never failed to feel right with Y/N.

I love you.

After sending his message, he sighed and dropped the device back on the little wooden table next to the bed. Emily was avoiding her overprotective dad ever since he’d shown up unannounced at the campsite, and now he’d driven his new girlfriend away, too. All because he was terrified of not being able to protect his loved ones. Of not being in control.

Beau kept tossing and turning for a few minutes, unable to find a comfortable position to sleep in, haunted by his interpersonal failures.

Then, suddenly, his phone dinged. Alerted, his hand shot up and snatched the device form the nightstand. His eager eyes were attacked by the brightness of the screen, but through a squinting gaze, he could clearly make out the words that Y/N had sent him back.

I love you, too. So much.

Beau breathed a sigh of relief so intense that all his emotions came pouring back out. His eyes glimmered with tears, his chest heaved, his face grew hot, and his heart was running a damn marathon along his ribcage.

Y/N loved him.

She didn’t tell him it was over. She didn’t lash out. Her message didn’t give the impression that she was leaving him.

“Thank God,” he whispered into darkness of his empty trailer. The next day, he was going fight tooth and nail for his relationship.

Part 9

Tag list: @spnwoman @waynes-multiverse @akshi8278 @aria725 @deansbbyx @mrsjenniferwinchester @waywardnerd67 @nt-multi-fandom @may85 @mimi-luvzyu @ginabaker1666 @daisythekitty @sarahgracej @jackharlows-world @maggiegirl17 @bellarkeselection @nerdyreaderpapi @lacilou @queensgirl718 @leigh70 @deanswaywardgirl ​ @tmb510 @roseblue373 @iamsapphine @ghostofjoharvelle ​ 

[ophelian-darling]

OMG YOU WRITE FOR MONSTER NOW!? The first post i read from you was about what type of darling giorno likes and oh my lord was it amazing. The way you wrote it and the sophistication of that post matched giorno so well and the dialogue "Please stay my innocent amore forever" was just 💕❤️ (i will absolutely steal that lmao)

anyways can i ask for general headcannons for yandere johan liebert? Anything you want to write about him is perfectly fine!

Link of Giorno's post

TW: Obsession, emotional abuse, Murder threat.

enjoy ♡

The paradox of an existence is what paints Johan in a perfect light : the calm, comely curve of his lips masks all of the convulsing twistification under his pale skin. Similarly to an ocean, His comportment appears lovely to the eye, even a bit of depth under his eyes unfolds a picturesque image of a midnight chasm and a visible wisdom. However, the beauty and curiosity of exploring more discolors into a monstrosity and terror with each dive; showing an endless abyss of Nietzschean horrors. The lovely smile of his becomes a twist of depravity and never been a man so sane yet so insane all at once.

Shadows danced within his head, casting a distorted light with every move they made. It would sound unbelievable; but he really filled his imagination with paintings of you: sometimes shapeless, at other times blurry, But there was one detail that remained. 

Your lips; the wonder of them. Johan never had the capacity to think of someone in a particular manner -Other than connecting directly to his demise- yet he thought of your features more than he should. Every little detail was mesmerizing in his eyes; the blood drops in your lips, the contour of them and how they form to your emotions so lively. Unlike him, you were able to taste glimmering joys and dim sorrows, savor life as it is, not drowning in some of an anarchic pit of despair and conflict; and that made him crave some of the warmth you had.

Johan is completely calm around you, His posture plays perfectly and complies to his acting, acting that role of a good man around others and a good friend of yours (although these words of friendship or romance meant nothing to him, 'friend' wasn't correct, more like a sculptor and his muse) and coffining the monster away from others- you specifically. He doesn't want his Obsession and maladive affinity to surface and scare you away- at least not yet, not in a time when you could run away from him easily. 

Dreaming of being embraced and melted into you, or even having each other belong together and as one -like a Shadow and an Anima-  dwelled in him so many nights. Maybe he can regain his sentiment again? experience normality or maybe… take your own name? It didn't matter how, what was important that you were his salvation from the cruelty of everything. 

He has a way with words: not like a formal sparker or a reckless lover, but of a poet. Johan flows his speech as sweetly as honey and as softly as a rose petal, tugging at anyone's heartstrings with a warm feeling. When in flirtation, his words come out Cloudy; a thin string between Coquetry and Courtesy. However, When you receive that small billet-doux on your door, your heart is immediately pierced. 

You've never seen someone in a romantic light (minus some short-lived fixations) and you were almost sure that no one was willing to make a move on you -at least that's what you concluded from all of your acquaintances friendly behavior- and here you were, re-reading the small note over and over again, absorbing the beautifully written words and inhaling its fragrant Aroma of flowers. you held the paper like a bundle of nerves, very gingerly and benignly. There was a tickling skip of your heartbeat; a sudden flow of feelings rushing out as the echo of the words calmed, never been so fluttered before.

"Beloved, Of Thy Smile I adore,

  As Pure as a Seraph, As Beautiful as a long Dream

   Of what darling Bud you've flourished?  Of what Angel you've been carved? 

A Memory filled with hues of a divine Beauty, a heart with a wound so sore

 Draws Thee in the pale moon, Kisses Thee under the warm Gleam

Thorns Hurt yet don't pain,

Take them As the sweetest antidote 

All Oblations for Thou never in Vain

For All joy and love on you I dote."

-Your Wounded Cupid, Johan.

You Are blessed. Never in a blue moon you've thought about your Capacity to lure someone else, let alone Johan Liebert himself. You'd burn the last candles of thought and wonder, only to end up with no answer: Why me of all the loveliest, savviest or highest people that he chose me? The questions would die down soon to be replaced with another blissful feeling, feeling that was alive and meant to die…

'Emotions' are just a set of false faces. He can wear and crawl under any role of a normal human effortlessly. Johan loves your smile as much as he counts your tears; creating a path to your heart by offering you the mimicry of warm affection and a color of what Love appears as. You smile back- and that's a hope for a monster like him.

What is the meaning of a family? or a loved one? He asks you silently. He can't overlook that look of joy on your face whenever you spoke to a close person of yours, and it tugs something at his soul. Was Heaven the other people? He wants to ask as well; and wanting to hold your hand and go into the unknown, solaced that you'll be with him. The more he fixes his sight on your life, the more he comes to the realization that he can be your salvation as much as you're his. there is no need for others when you have him.

The peaceful world inside your mind crumbles apart, or better to say: reforms. Johan wouldn't say that everyone around you was evil out loud, he has just to expose the wickedness of others around you, how much they used you to their benefit, or twist their words and create the worst scenarios in your head… He didn't corrupt you for his enjoyment, he was just keeping the Lily of a human in Heaven. 

The Sweet fall of an Angel. He's now delighted, even more delighted. The sheer happiness you used to show faded into the clouds of despair; a crack through the rose-colored glasses broke its way through and through. Gorgeously Weak and beauteously Shattered, you're now left easy to be munched, chomped, gobbled and gulped; as to become one with him.

What affection meant to him: the absolute control and submission between two; dominion of the flesh and spirit in order to achieve the perfect union, and so he did. He's always been obsecure as Chaos, If never in a cruel way.

He was everything alluring and gruesome; a chiaroscuro painting of an Angel and a Devil, cruel to be kind, and kind to be cruel. Everytime you thought you catched a thread to pull in his persona, more tangles would unwrap. In other words, he wasn't one to be understood. 

Johan Contradicts his honeyed words in cruel actions: He can simply Call you the prettiest thing as he aims a bullet at you, taking delight at the sight of your cascading tears or the sound  of your incisioning sobs, at other times, He plants warm kisses on your hands and face, lacing his lips with venomous letters and twisting sayings, wanting to see the broken look on your face yet again, or maybe a pearl of a tear from your eye. He doesn't -would never- hate you, it's just that you were pretty when you cried. 

You've lost all of your weapons and winning Cards from the beginning. There wasn't luck or skill enough to defeat him, and you ought to be the most knowledgeable of the reality through his eyes: there was no one in the world except of you two, no heaven or hell except when you're together, and no force that shall banish you from him.

"Suffer with me"

"I know not of a meaning except of your love" 

"We belong together" 

"Ich bin du, und du bist ich"

[jobean12-blog]

Dark Desires

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x reader (Demon AU)

Word Count: 700

Summary: Now that he's finally found you he's never letting you go.

Author's Note: Another one for @pupandkisasaesthetics Aesthetic's challenge! Thank you bunches to beauties @sgt-seabass and @rookthorne for hosting such an awesome challenge!💕 And thank you bunches to my beautiful Ali @flordeamatista for reading this over and supporting me always!💕 Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰The moodboard is by me and the photo prompt I was given is the very top picture. I've also included it on its own at the bottom so you can get a good look!

Warnings: some angst and tension but he's soft (maybe soft!d-a-r-kish if you squint) and definitely s-e-x-y.

In the deep, dark of the woods, where the moon’s pale light struggles to pierce through the dense canopy of trees, there is a thick silence other than the rapid thumping of your heart and the rush of blood in your ears.

Your feet catch on fallen twigs and branches, your skin scraped and torn but you don’t stop running.

Unseen eyes watch from the shadows, a presence so powerful you can feel it in your bones.

You’re being hunted.

Instinct fuels your escape but it’s futile as the forest seems to shift around you, pathways twisting and turning in a disorienting dance.

As you stumble over the ground and fall to your knees you suck in a deep breath, the whisper of wind carrying strange murmurs in a language you don’t understand.

Suddenly, you feel a cool breath at your neck, your hairs standing on end and goosebumps shivering along your skin.

You turn with wide, fear filled eyes but there’s nothing but the darkness of the woods pressing ever closer.

You stand on shaky legs and step carefully toward a large tree, pressing your back to the thick bark and searching for the source of the palpable force.  

A tall and broad figure emerges from the shadows, it’s silhouette only something you’ve seen in books and as it moves closer, steps measured and deliberate, you can start to see the outline of huge wings.

You squeeze your eyes shut and will the image away, digging your fingertips into the tree.

The voice, when it speaks, is a whisper against the shell of your ear, powerful in it’s seduction and dangerous in it’s temptation.

 A slow and deeply satisfied smile frames sharp teeth and his breath quickens when he inhales at the soft skin of your neck.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “My perfect Angel.”

Your eyes are still closed tightly as a single tear rolls down your cheek. He lifts his thumb to tenderly brush it away.

“Open your eyes,” he says softly.

Unable to resist you do as he says.

“There,” he says, holding his saccharine smile. “Was that so hard.”

Your lips tremble as you try to find the words to speak. His thumb, still pressed to your skin, moves lower, tracing the outline of your mouth until he lightly presses against it, parting your lips.

“Don’t be afraid,” he coos, spreading expansive wings the color of twilight until you’re surrounded only by his presence. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He tilts his head invitingly and holds your gaze, the horns that crown his head, twisting upward with artistic grace, glinting in the moonlight.

Your lips part further as something moves behind him, long and sinewy but before you can decipher what it is it disappears from sight.

“Wh…who are you?” you manage to ask as you finally let your eyes wander over the rest of his features.

He inches closer, his nearness creating a complex blend of emotions and sensations, blurring the lines between fear and desire in a way you could never have imagined.

His blue eyes are mesmerizing, their intensity both powerful and imposing but yet softened by an unyielding desire. Long but strong fingers continue to ghost over your face, his touch igniting a fire under your skin that spreads through your veins.

“James. You can call me James.”

You gasp out his name when you feel something slide along your calf. It’s touch is gentle despite the power you feel and as it explores the contours of your skin with reverent curiosity you become aware of what it is.

Each caress of his tail leaves a lingering trace of tingling sensations, awakening a trail of longing that seems to coil around your very being. He slides it between your breasts, lightly tracing the curve of your neck before he loosely wraps it around the delicate column.

“What are you going to do to me?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

His dark hairs falls forward, brushing your cheek as his soft lips caress your ear and his voice, like velvet, whispers promises that sink deep into the recesses of your desires.

“Everything Angel. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @late-to-the-party-81 @sebstanwhore @lookiamtrying @laineyreads @beccablogsthings @justkinsey @kmc1989 @littleseasiren

[randynova]

Lookism DG? Imagine a badass unconscious Y/n who’s like a fem Daniel? What will DG do? ❤️ Thanks, I appreciate you!

𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒜𝓉 𝐹𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝐹𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉

ᴅɢ/ᴊᴀᴍᴇs ʟᴇᴇ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ? : ʏᴇs

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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐞, 𝐃𝐆 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 — 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 — 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭.

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A.N.: Sksksjk, thank youuu! And I hope you enjoy this one! 

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Running paths with DG in his youth led both of your lives down a different path, more than surprised when you both met your match. At the time of your meeting, when he still possessed his identity as James Lee, he ran into you while in the midst of a fight with a gang of the First Generation. It’s as if you were a deadly white shadow.

Meeting someone who fought brutally while unconscious is a feat he never expected — shattering his wrist and ribs all whilst never breaking a sweat, it truly humbled him. Yet, the same could be said for you when he dislocated your shoulders and crushed your patella.  Truly you were a force to be reckoned with and he had a difficult time keeping up with every punch and kick you threw at him, distracted by the black empty hues staring back at him.

One would say, it was love at first fight for you two. James grew a sort of infatuation with the woman, charmed by your insatiable need to beat him to a pulp. God, just something about a woman that could kill him had his heart pounding wildly and face flushing. He just had to meet you again.

Your second meeting did come sooner than anticipated but it came to be a surprise when he realized you were dueling with Gun, later he found out per Charles request —

Find the Phantom of Gangbuk and recruit them, perhaps then we would rid the trouble they cause for us.

Yet  James couldn’t help but watch in amusement when the gangster struggled to lay a hit on you, yet his eyes stayed glued to you, mesmerized by your dance of destruction as you laid blow after blow upon bruised inked skin, the same void gaze as Gun’s staring down at him as the man wilted. A semblance of a smile set itself on Jame’s features, resting his chin on his palm as he witnessed the fight unfold. To say the end was unsatisfying — Goo jumping in and knocking you fully unconscious with a jab to the back of your head with the handle of his sword — James knew how and where to find you.

And you hated it — at first.

Though you both started off as rivals, avoiding him as even being in the same room as the man led to both of you down each other's throats,  — James taunting you and you insulting him — it soon melted into one of mutual respect and care for one another. In your own special, aggressive way.

Though the title of couple became official a year afterwards, the two of you sometimes had your differences in term of social events. As so, he wishes he knew how to convince you to join him at his club, not avoid it like the plague.

Now as DG, he became a bit more open with you yet, could not help the disappointment of your dwindling quality time with him discourage the man and he indulged in Gun, who gladly accepted the invitation in exchange for a chat.

"Why would you date someone so….that? So unpredictable?" Gun grunts, lighting a cigar, taking a long deep drag before puffing out a cloud of smoke. The gangster slouched against the pink leather cushions, ignoring the calls from Goo as he danced in the pool with the girls. Hearing DG’s confession of dating you made Gun flinch, finally making understanding, as to why you turned down his advances before — nearly murdering him. Not that he minded. "A monster in the shape of a woman, huh….? She could destroy you one day while she's unconscious…."

Nothing I haven’t heard before, the man thought. DG stayed silent, playing with his drink and stirring the golden liquid around with his straw. The point of injury had already been made a couple years prior, yet it did not deter him from sticking around. In short, it only made DG all the more interested in you, charmed by your quick wit when he confronted you. He could still recall the chills he got when he finally saw the bright [E/C] eyes staring back at him. Smiling softly, he replied to Gun, his mind wandering to you. "She already did… Is that important?"

Gun scoffed, placing the cigar in between his lips and letting it trickle from the corners of his mouth. "No, I don't think so — seems like my kind of woman, really." Upon finishing his sentence, the popstar looks up at the man upon hearing the comment, narrowing his eyes as annoyance etched into his features. Though, Gun paid no mind and let his head lull back.  "But you shouldn't be so careless around her when she's in that state. Mm, she could really kill you…."

"I'm not careless. [Name] is my shadow and with her, I'm stronger…." The memory of every fight since meeting you had DG feeling nostalgic, the ends of his mouth twitching. The memory of you fluidly maneuvering through the crowd like a serpent in sea, disappearing out of sight with such speed, you practically flew as you kept his opponents at bay from attacking. The man sighed deeply, almost in a trance, " Afterall, 'To larger sight, the rim of the shadow is the line of light'. We complete each other but….” DG trailed off, sighing in a sort of defeat.

Gun sits up slowly, arching a brow at the man across from him, waiting for him to continue. It seemed odd. All of a sudden, the man spoke highly of you yet the hesitation that followed served to intrigue the gangster.

DG breathes out, clicking his tongue,“To me, she's… scary." He takes a sip of his drink, letting the alcohol run down his throat, leaving a bittersweet taste in its wake. God, if you were here to hear him say that, he would be met with the melody of your honeydew laughter, teasing him for admitting it so openly. Oh, now he’s starting to miss you again. The ache in his chest grew, wondering what you were doing tonight at your job.

The statement was true to an extent. You’re scary when you’re mad but your anger is usually directed to the girls trying to get into your boyfriend’s pants or the men making advances towards you. His fear was just as common as every man had to their girl and justifiable. But his fear extended to your unconscious state as well.

A grin stretches across Gun's face and he lets out a laugh, not quite expecting the man who helped create the four crews to fear you of all people. "Scary? Why?" he asks, amused.

DG thought about Gun's words, letting the simple question sink in. 

As the [Name] [Last Name] – a powerful woman with a right hook that leaves anyone buckling – were famed for being the Hidden Genius raised by Charles Choi, and the Shadow of James Lee. With a target on your back, you were a walking time bomb for many.

The particular reason you were considered one,  since you were considered the Hidden Genius and Shadow of James Lee, was due to your ability to fight without being conscious — with the intent to kill. Once you enter this state, you leave a trail of blood in your wake. With a blazing fire burning throughout your body, muscles screaming for mercy as your mind transitioned to mental plane boarding hysteria, you entered the state of ultra-instinct.

DG has seen it with Gun and seeing it with you had been almost as if he were in the presence of an archangel. And everytime he saw you in that state, he felt himself falling in love all over again.

Just recently, he came to know you were in charge of keeping the newly formed gangs in Gangbuk from rising to power like Ansan. According to Charles, your mission is to keep them at bay until the group itself dissolves on its own. DG just wished he didn’t leave you alone with such a task. With your charming smile and sweet voice, many of the crooked men trusted you and as much as he disliked the thought of another man touching you, you took advantage of that vulnerability — crushing them. You exploited your enemy’s weakness and defeated them without a second thought.

And DG loved that about you.

DG spoke up, staring up at Gun with a glazed look, surprising the man across from him. "When [Name] fights, she fights to kill and survive. But she won't stop unless she wakes up or falls asleep….”

Gun hums, glancing at Goo for a moment to make sure the blonde bastard didn’t cause any trouble. "Well, what do you do then?"

DG’s mind trailed once more, gaze falling to the floor. The resolve both of you found to work had been one based on pure luck, one he tried out of instinct as he had no other clue on how to deal with your behavior at the time without hurting you. The moment seemed to play like a record in his head, closing his eyes as he recalled the night so clearly.

Diego gripped the back of your neck with a rigid hold, palm against your nape, pressing the pads of his fingers to the sides of your throat firmly. You couldn't move your head, writhing against him as you attempted to swing your legs to kick him, elbows digging into his torso, trying to get free. 

Small grunts left him, gritting his teeth at the hard edge of your arm rammed into his ribs and the soles of your boots dug into his feet, his limbs throbbing at every blow you landed. Truly, he was at his wits end and desperate for a way to stop before he snapped himself.

He only had a window of three seconds to hold you in a different position that the one he currently had you in. And if his years of fighting taught him anything, it took less than a second for an opponent to land a blow, but at least five to regain composure. Considering his position, he was more inclined to take the chance of experimenting than having both of you coming out with stitches.

For a moment, Diego let go of you, counting in his head as he took hold of your bicep and spun you around on your heels, pressing you flush against his chest. If anything, he knew this was a chance worth taking to avoid injuring you.

Pressing his lips against your own, holding your wrists in his hands tightly, DG closed his eyes and stayed still. Seconds passed and slowly, he felt you stop squirming. As your bloodlust began to dissolve, your body began to regain its senses, mind now processing all the sensations wracking your form —- from new to familiar. Almost instantly did you go numb, twisting violently in his grasp and nipping at the man before you. 

But DG refused and deepened the kiss.

Diego’s lips were soft and warm, a contrast to the busted and cold ones of your own, and despite his firm grip, his touch remained gentle. The way his heart painted a tattoo to your sternum from how loud it pounded grounded you, the memories of the nights in your bed flooding your mind. The phantom touch of his arms around you made you shudder, back arching and pressing yourself closer into him.

The smoldering flame within your body began to flicker, welcoming the man as the fog began to clear up. Your arms shook in his grasp, slowly relaxing against him as your eyes fluttered shut, melting against him. The bliss he exerted, the adoration he poured into the kiss, it just felt right — so inviting and mellow, why wouldn’t you turn away from ultra-instinct?

It didn’t take long for you to fall limp, leaning into him as your knees began to buckle. At last, did you leave your unconscious fighting state and slip into a peaceful slumber. Poor thing, your energy must have been drained and you were perhaps already handing on a thin thread as it was!

Carefully, he let your body collapse and fall to the floor slowly, hands guiding you, and settling you down. As much as he wanted to admire your tranquil state, it’d be best to take you back to your shared apartment before any gangsters came across him.

Slithering a hand under you, Diego hooked an arm under your legs and wrapped his other hand firmly to your shoulder.  He hoisted you into the air, your head lulling and resting in his chest, snoring softly. He scoffed.

Who knew you were a sucker for his kisses unconscious as much as you were awake?

“It’s a private matter as to what method we use to help her…,” DG mutters, paying no mind to the flush of his ears and looking at his phone as a way to ignore Gun’s further inquiries. The bright display of the notification made his eyes light up, your text making his chest flutter. With the times you two avoided each other due to work, receiving a heartfelt message from you during those times made waiting for you worthwhile and even more eager to see you again.

Even if the whole world questioned his decision to be with such a strong woman, DG wouldn’t regret his decision — because it was you. He would never regret you. He was yours and yours alone, and vice versa. Besides, what other woman was willing to dominate him in both the streets and the sheets?

You were of course.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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©ʀᴀɴᴅʏɴᴏᴠᴀ || ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ || ɴᴏ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs, ᴇᴅɪᴛs, ᴄᴏᴘʏɪɴɢ, ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ, ᴇᴛᴄ. ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴄɪʀᴄᴜᴍsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇs.

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[ladyxskywalker]

I think it's a bit dark for your taste but imagine Anakin becoming the emperor (no burning was involved) and you are supposed to be the jedi that defeats him but he manages to seduce you to the dark side 😈

oh !! ❤️ this is definitely not too dark for me at all. love this & love him !

(yes we do soft here, but even I love a good dark side seduction story like this one !)

...

"Go ahead. Kill me..."

Through shaken hands, you've made attempts to rise against all that you fear, pushing it all away in favor of Emperor Skywalker's end. But the unwavering will of great affection steals your mind from moving, holding you sharply there in place.

Blurs of effortless thought of a future, both yours and his in warmth upended, so swiftly turning, drawing you further toward the shadows, ones of which he's willed inside an enigmatic darkness that's soon to have been calling.

"You can't do it, can you?"

"Please, stop this!"

"I can not change what is already inside yourself. Your destiny and mine are set... I've already seen it. Just as you have."

He saunters over to you closer then, the mere touch of his hand, pebbling the skin of your face in grazes where it seems he's only just been standing there, entirely mesmerized by it.

"You're trembling."

An ominous heated torment, glossing over at the sterling spark of palms embraced by their winding feel of covering, soon begins clouding all your vision.

"Anakin, I can't, please, this isn't..."

Breathing you in nearer, he whispers, leaving a kiss beneath the shell of your waiting ear.

"Do not fear me."

And you can't; not then, not solely in this very moment, especially right now when you don't think you ever did.

"Give in to it. The pull you feel, I sense every wave of it."

Tilting your chin to face him, comes easily then; your eyes alight in golden shades of ash and fire, reflecting all it is you truly ever wanted from him.

His hips, hard and flush when he asks you if you know just what you do to him, fueling every nightmare and dream he's ever hoped of seeing in real time, when you've awakened...

"It is more than just this, you and I. The back and forth of chasing...your anguish of need, burning into my skin. Can you taste it?"

And suddenly, with every breathless tracing of his selfish mouth along the arching of your neck, bringing you further into unfolding, not once can you defy him; giving into to all of him there with a pressing ache, just as soon as your lightsaber disengages...

Your lips, darting for him into a salacious drag, and slotting with him at the heady embrace of closing spaces; capable of catching every escaping gasp of air that parts itself away from your merciless entanglement.

... ❤️

[the-pale-goddess]

Your MC leaves one of these in Ethan’s office— how does he react?

Sis!!! This is me, replying to your amazing ask late, as per usual—I sincerely apologize! Love you and miss you so freaking much ❤️❤️❤️

Initially, my response was supposed to be just a tiny dialogue snippet, but the idea decided to live its own life kdbkdbdkdb I hope you’ll enjoy this silly little ficlet! 

Doctor Ramsey and Doctor Addams, the epitome of professionalism, are finishing another day with a peculiar case that requires working overtime.

Rating: Teen +

Warnings: if you're an innocent soul, you won't get some of the references, I guess? kdjksjgk

Category: Fluff

As daylight inevitably fades into the night, allowing darkness to settle in, the regular bustle at Edenbrook Hospital doesn’t lose its intensity. 

Dr. Ramsey rushes down the busy corridor on the ground floor, scrolling through his tablet on the way to meet the last patient.

Out of nowhere, an obstacle rises in front of him—an irresistible obstacle with mesmerizing eyes and a sharp mind as dangerous as her distracting mouth. 

„Doctor Ramsey.” The warmth in her voice, so soft and inviting that his professionalism may fail him any second now, makes his heart pound faster. „Have you found the file I left in your office this morning? A patient requested for your…Invaluable input.”

Tiffany’s eager smile and the mischievous glint sparkling in the depths of her emerald eyes capture his undivided attention for a brief moment before the ridiculous card she sneakily hid in the files waiting on his desk springs up his thoughts. 

Ethan sighs heavily, a signature frown and raised brows emphasizing the sheer lack of amusement on his side. „The Aspirin addict, I presume?”

„The Aspirin? Is that all you picked up?” She lets out a disappointed scoff, all but offended by his weak diagnosis. „Poor thing has severe Vitamin D deficiency. You of all people shouldn’t neglect it.”

Ethan squints, analyzing her every word and the goofy card she surprised him with, his piercing gaze fixed on her face as though searching for a game-changing clue. The gears in his head quickly work around the ambiguity so obvious and obscene his overworked brain almost missed it. 

A shadow of an arrogant smirk flickers in the corners of his mouth, immediately inspiring Tiffany’s triumphant grin to engulf her radiant face. 

„I’ll take on the case. Are you available in an hour?”

„Yes, my shift is almost over.” 

However innocent their conversation may sound to a random passer-by, the unmistakable tension rising between the diagnosticians is tangible. Luckily for them, no one around seems to be even remotely concerned with this seemingly normal interaction between two colleagues.

Hovering on the brink of a minor workplace indecency, Ethan closes the distance between them and lowers his head, whispering into Tiffany’s ear. For a mere second, he can feel the glorious shiver running the length of her whole body and the sensation only stokes the fire he's desperate to keep at bay

„Meet me in my office then. We’ll discuss it further.”

She nods in response, paralyzed, her fluttering lashes hinting at her intent not to cross the line in public. 

Ethan’s infamous poker face reappears in a flash; he nods back at Tiffany and continues his journey down the hall before his predictable body betrays him. 

An incredibly detailed treatment plan for this very special patient fills him with barely concealable excitement, blooming his cheeks with siren red...The kind of overtime Doctor Addams and Doctor Ramsey will be doing later this evening shall certainly go off the record.