#feel free to inquire further

[switch]

alright it’s time for Switch’s List of October/Halloween Games: Updated Edition

any game listed here either is a horror game, or has suitable aesthetics/theming, and on the older or niche side. naturally, disclaimer to check content warnings on any game you may be interested in.

bolded games: full recommendation to check out

italic games: mostly here for the sake of being thorough, they’re not well-liked and i wouldn’t personally recommend them, but they may be a curiosity or you may find something you like

bolded italic games: picture i’m making the so-so hand gesture. there may be technical hurdles to running it, or it’s just a game i have more mixed feelings on.

if you want the best Myst-like game, which makes well-balanced QoL improvements to the genre that allows it to appeal to both myst-like enthusiasts and people who might not normally like them, with fantastic audio/visual design: play Shivers

if you want one of the best adventure games and one of the best story adaptations ever made: play I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream

if you want a uniquely free-form dark humor adventure game that still has a plot, different endings, different playable characters, optional objectives, and the 2nd most unpleasant visuals i’ve ever seen (and i mean this as a compliment): play Bad Day on the Midway

if you want the most unpleasant visuals i’ve ever seen (this is a compliment), a highly unique adventure game with multiple endings, and you also want to support a creator-revived game that was inaccessible for years and isn’t talked about enough: play Garage Bad Dream Adventure

if you want an adventure game with frequently obtuse mechanics but fantastic stop-motion visuals and a more subdued (but still dark) tone than some of the cheesier games here: play The Dark Eye (1995)

if you want another one of the best entries in the adventure game genre, featuring highly creative levels and a narrative that’s a lot more genuine and cohesive than the premise might make you think: play Sanitarium

if you want a unique shock-horror comedy adventure game with a highly engaging first half if it falls apart during the last third: play Harvester

if you want an action adventure game that had a lot of interesting ambition put into it, but ended up a technical mess and overshadowed by resident evil 1: play Zombieville (1997, EU) (game can be finished but is unstable and can failstate, its TCRF page discusses these issues)

if you want a cornerstone early point and click horror game with fun music, fun visuals, and cheesy FMV: play The 7th Guest

if you want the worst aspects of The 7th Guest but dialed up to 11: play The 11th Hour

if you want a Shivers game that is pretty much Shivers in name only, but does keep the improvements 1 made to the Myst-like genre: play Shivers 2 (please play 1 as well)

if you want another landmark entry in point and click horror with a lot of gratuitous shock horror/gore and cheesy FMV acting, but with a higher degree of intensity and taking itself seriously than Harvester: play Phantasmagoria

if you want a Phantasmagoria game that even Phantasmagoria fans are mixed-to-negative on: play Phantasmagoria 2, i guess

if you want a CD-ROM horror-themed boardgame with sick bongo music and a disembodied voice frequently heckling you: play Atmosfear: The Third Dimension…?

if you want an action-adventure game with deliberate platforming, punishing combat, weapon unlocks that are so busted it’s fun, fantastic level design+music, and one of the only works to successfully pull off “what if alice was dark”: play American McGee’s Alice (try to get the original release if you can, not the post-madness returns 2011 version, but it’s not a dealbreaker)

if you want american mcgee’s alice with overall worse combat and more filler, but with highly improved, responsive platforming and the addition of a rewarding collectible system, with a cathartic narrative: play Alice Madness Returns

if you want one of the best survival games i’ve ever played with one of the best narratives in a VN-influenced format i’ve ever read: play Pathologic Classic HD (it’s fine to use a walkthrough)

if you want more pathologic and you’re fine with playing a game that’s probably never going to be finished: play Pathologic 2

if you want a short, honest-to-goodness 2009 art game/walking simulator with minor collectible elements, multiple endings, and beautiful music and visuals: play The Path

if you want a good h.r. giger horror adventure game: play Dark Seed

if you want (this will explain everything) a Dark Seed game that even Dark Seed fans are mixed-negative on: play Dark Seed 2

if you want a cornerstone graphic adventure game that is a functional evolution of Mystery House, with a murder mystery and a shocking amount of detail and different things that can happen and good replay value: play The Colonel’s Bequest

[blacktobackmesa]

I'm assuming Fang's username is a play on something, but I can't figure out what?

It's a Homestar Runner joke, actually! See, while Fang isn't really based on anyone, I used Tr0g from RTVS as a jumping-off point for creating the character of Gordon's stream producer-- mostly just his choice of username. As many know, Trog is short for Trogdor the Burninator, the iconic dragon character drawn by Strong Bad. I started combing through sbemails to find bits and phrases that could make a fun username.

When I got to kids book, an old favorite of mine, I found what I was looking for in Strong Bad's invented word "fangoriously". Then I worked backward-- why would someone latch onto this word? Have they been using this as a name for a long time? How have they changed since then?

Fang latched onto this fun word because it was used in conjunction with his first name, though he uses the one-L spelling of Hilary. It also gave him a more fierce and funny name to use during his early teen years, when he was figuring things out with his identity (and going through the crucial Edgy Fursona phase). He's not the same person in his late 20s as he was in middle school, but he's proud of all parts of himself.

That's why he kept his first name when he transitioned-- for one thing, Hilary is a historically neutral name, but to paraphrase Eddie Izzard from her routines in the 90s, "they're not women's dresses, they're mine. I buy them." Hilary's not a girl's name on Fang, it's just his name.

(by the way, the Kids Book cartoon has a gender joke in there that didn't age very well. It was the mid 2000s internet, we learn from it. It's still a very funny toon.)

[icology]

I have a theory about the events that occur just before ICO begins. It’s not an earth shattering theory that changes everything, but it’s something I think works logically with the story.

The purpose of my theory is to explain in more detail why Yorda might be in the cage at the game’s start, and what the purpose of The Queen's Sword is.

For one, I think it's very unlikely Yorda has been in that cage since her birth/creation. Like, I know The Queen is evil and dismissive of Yorda's desires, but she doesn't talk to her like she's just a thing in a cage. She speaks to Yorda like she has a choice to come to her senses and understand her situation. “Why don't you understand? You cannot survive in the outside world.”

And this phrase further implies Yorda had some agency before this point. The Queen has potentially tried to explain or convince her of this before and failed. That is not something you are required to do with a captive, who has no means of disobeying in the first place. That alongside the fact that capture is usually a last resort after persuasion fails… it paints a picture of how Yorda's situation must've changed.

So if Yorda wasn't always in the cage, why is she there when Ico shows up? Going with the only thing we have to run on, it might be because Ico showed up. Yorda's disobedience, if it stems from anywhere, would most likely be regarding the sacrifices (The non-canon original ICO script aside, this just makes sense to object to, especially at the time of Ico's arrival.) Remember too, (if we are to take Ueda's offhand comment from an interview as fact) Yorda is 16 years old, not old enough to have witnessed and comprehended the passing of a generation. Unless the Queen is taking from more than one village, this is likely her first time being exposed to the sacrificial act itself, since it can only happen once per generation.

Ok, so she protests to sacrifices and gets locked up. How does this tie into The Queen's Sword?

Well we have to wonder in the first place, "Why is it necessary to have this thing?" I mean, yes, it serves as a key for the human priests to enter, but surely you don't have to hand them a weapon to do that, right? Especially not the one weapon that can dismiss your Shadows and kill you with little effort. Why can't The Queen escort them to the room of sacrifices herself? …Oh. She's too weak… Remember how Yorda opens the castle gate with her power, and it takes so much energy out of her, that her hair grays in an instant and she can barely run? That’s what the sword is made for and protects against. It's possible that The Queen has become so frail that even the simplest idol doors of her own castle could pose a challenge to her. We never see her open a door herself, she just teleports.

If not bring her closer to death, opening a door in front of the mortal priests might give her a coughing fit, make her stumble, and in general reveal physical weakness to her enemies, who only cooperate in performing the sacrifice out of ignorance to its true purpose, fear of her magic, and her seeming immortality. She can’t put a hole in that image.

So she doesn't even approach them, instead she leaves the sword. While it is a risk to hand it over to them, it is arguably more secure than giving them a single hint as to the purpose of the sacrifices. To even use the sword herself would imply a weakness, because if she cannot open the doors of her own home without a magic tool, how strong can her magic really be? Ultimately it's better to be enigmatic and leave the tool to their own hands, so they feel like they are weak without her boon to them.

All the same, leaving them the sword like a key under the doormat is a risk. And one she had to take for however many generations after she stopped being able to open the doors herself. Had she another option, she would surely prefer to use it instead. That's where Yorda comes back in.

What if Yorda was, on this last sacrifice, meant to escort the guards in herself? She wouldn't just be roaming in the castle at the same time as the sacrifice's entombment, she would have been an active participant in the process. All the more reason for her to object and actively disobey an order. And thus leads cleanly into her punishment. The Queen requests her daughter help escort the sacrifice, so that they might recover her sword from it's pedestal at the docks and secure the cursed child without any risk. And Yorda can't accept, even knowing the plan would secure her mother's safety. This leads to conflict, which leads to The Queen's anger, and thus the cage.

If true, it would mean Yorda played a part in The Queen's defeat before the story even starts, because without such a theoretical refusal, Ico would have never gotten his hands on The Queen's Sword and thus never have been able to defeat her.

That would actually make sense!

Castle In The Mist (Ico's novelization by author Miyuki Miyabe), although not exactly canon, was approved by the team and therefore we could look at the author's interpretation as a possibly valid one as well. In it, things go very similarly to what you said, with the Queen painting this image of being a very fierce, powerful ruler to every other kingdom, and Yorda having a more active role in royal affairs, though very reluctantly. She doesn't really know what her mother's obscure traditions are about, and she's very frightened once she discovers the true scope of it all (not saying any more to not spoil for those who haven't read it!)

Yorda also seems wary of the way she usually reacts, probably because she's experienced her outbursts before and knows there will be a punishment if she doesn't comply (when she says things like "I have angered her" and blames herself for what is happening, for example). Regardless of whether we get to see it in the game or not, there seem to be subtle signs of Yorda being accustomed to having bad consequences to her every action.

As for the sword, we can even take the other games as an example. In SOTC, the ancient sword is not just a sword, but also a compass that guides you around, a key to the last colossus and, indirectly, to Dormin's power as well. In TLG, the mirror is also a key and a way to control both the Tricos' power and to render the Armored Knights immobile. All in all, these magical weapons/artifacts seem to exist not just for their primary purpose, but also to lend a bigger power to someone who might need it, especially if they're doing something that would benefit the owner.

Every game also features a powerful entity whose powers are either weakened or dormant. The Queen needs a sacrifice to keep going, Dormin has been imprisoned and stripped of their abilities, and the Master of the Valley... well, just seems to be waiting for its minions to finish working on something that it needs. All of them rely on a third party to accomplish something that their power, if working properly, would easily do.

Yorda having a role in the Queen's own demise would also not suprise me, because if there's one thing that happens in the universe of the games is prophecies fulfilling themselves and the stars aligning just right to make everything happen, so your theory might very well be true!

What do you guys think?

[thecorinth1an]

I’ve been told by a.. strange individual that doing this sort of thing would be well received, or something of that nature. I don’t get the appeal, but feel free to prove me wrong. 

At the very least, it’ll give me something to do while I’m stuck in this... limbo.

[nova-rogue]

i've been trying to type up and articulate this for a couple days now but i guess the only way i can say it succinctly is that i'm tired of people slamming a piece of media they know nothing about. i'm not exempt from having done this, but i've been trying over the years to do this less because of the exact experience i'm having right now with Genshin.

out of all the people i've told i want to/have started playing the game, only 2 people were inquisitive/positive—and those are people who have played it. every single other response i've gotten has been essentially "eww, gross". those people being negative all have then proceeded to express to me, after i ask them why they'd say that, that they don't know a single thing about the game besides that it has gacha.

it's an open world rpg with major exploration, puzzle solving, a fun story, and a really really fun combat system. and i for one can't even believe it's free.

the gacha system isn't really shoved in your face and the game is CONSTANTLY giving you currency that adds up to pulls and even throws free pulls at you. it is entirely, 100% possible to easily Free 2 Play this game.

i'm not going to go into further details abt the gacha system & my thoughts & feelings on it besides the fact that progression is absolutely not locked behind spending RL money—you do not need to spend a single dime to play this game and still enjoy the entirety of it.

it's been really upsetting to find something that is actually extremely fun and entertaining (and free!) and finally know what this game is like only to have everyone i know who knows NOTHING about it make rude remarks to me about it. having to go back and explain it to people who then blink and go "oh, i guess i didn't know that" has been unnerving.

stop acting like something is some Great Evil you must Morally Reject whole cloth when you have 0 context for it. be inquisitive, maybe ask "what made you choose to start playing/watching/reading that?" but never been rude or unkind. chances are you're perpetuating some mindless internet hive mind of hate predicated on extremely limited knowledge, and you're using that to unintentionally hurt your friends while you're at it.

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 2) part 1

-

The solid hand at your back guides you through the dusty streets towards the courthouse in the middle of town. It’s not an easy walk. Your shoes catch on the skirt of your dress a handful of times in Price’s haste, each time almost causing you to tumble forward before you manage to catch yourself. 

It’s patently unfair. The strides of his long legs would easily have you losing him in a crowd were it not for the way he refuses to leave you behind; every time you so much as slow down a tad to catch your breath, the firm hand on your low back presses you forward again. You’d be snippier if you weren’t still addled from the events of just five minutes previous.

“I beg you, please—” you plead, heart skittering in your chest when you chance a glance up to find Price’s face set. Everything about him feels purposeful now, driven. “If you just—if you would just let me explain!”

“Nothing more to know, darling,” he says, not bothering to meet your desperate eyes. Clearly not in any mood to continue arguing with you on the status of your identity. 

He tugs you along when he takes a right turn down a road leading into the center of town. The belt of bullets around his waist rattles with every step. It’s a constant reminder of who you’re with and why you should not be with him. Every step feels like a step towards your own sentencing, like accompanying your jailer to your cell. It’s perhaps fool’s luck that the sheriff hasn’t inquired further into your identity or your reason for coming into town. Makes you think that perhaps there isn’t yet a warrant out for your arrest. Maybe that’s only to come. 

“Sure there’s more!” you insist. “There’s—there’s—” It’s like the words fly right out of your head, bucked off like a bronc rider. Too much has happened in too short a time. “There’s the matter of—oh, would you quit that, I am walking!” The last bit comes out snappish, peeved as Price pulls you towards the stone steps of a red-bricked building. 

The words County Court House are inscribed above the second-story door girdled by a wrought iron balcony. It’s a simple building, far from the colonnaded buildings from back home with their cupolas and hand-carved lintels. Even in size it hardly compares, a meager three stories with perhaps a basement. Still, it catches the eye in a town as small as this, by far the most imposing building for miles around.

It’s also the one he pulls you towards, hand moving from the small of your back to take firm hold of your waist. You flinch at the touch and the way his fingers dig in, almost proprietarily. It’s a physical shock to your system. While you’re not unaccustomed to the rougher ways of men, you’ve also been largely shielded from it yourself. By chance or fortune or luck. Men may take an attitude with you, as they’re wont to do, but none have yet manhandled you the way Price feels free to do. 

“Take a big step there now, darling,” he says, lifting the front of your dress for you a tad, to your shock. “No accidents before the wedding.” 

“The wedding?” you shriek, face heating at the heads that turn to look over at the two of you. 

The courthouse is bustling with townsfolk, still not as busy as in the bigger cities back east, but still clearly at the center of all business activities. The few people that pass you by on the way out of or into the courthouse are bold in their perusal, eyebrows lifting when they take notice of Price at your side—and how could they not, with the size of him and the badge pinned to the lapel of his vest that glimmers when it catches the light. 

“If you were expecting something grander, you should’ve turned up last month when I sent for you,” Price says, stern again. In the foyer of the courthouse, you can see the way the long hallway cuts through the building, leading into the adjacent rooms until finally culminating with the courtroom at the very back. You watch as a man slowly closes the door to the last door, shutting the occupants in. “Might’ve been more amenable to it then.”

“I’m not asking for a nicer ceremony—”

“Good, then you won’t be disappointed.”

“—but that’s because I’m not the woman that you intended to marry in the first place,” you finish, quieting to a hissed whisper, conscious of those still lingering close enough to eavesdrop. In all likelihood, the other people milling around probably already know that the sheriff has been waiting for his mail order bride to arrive. They wouldn’t be the first people to mistake you for her.

He pulls you into an alcove off the side of the foyer. When Price turns to face you, no longer just the heavy presence at your side, it takes a moment for you to gather your bearings. He seems larger somehow, with his arms crossed over his chest and feet rooted into the floor, drawn up to his full height. The hair on his forearms draws your eyes momentarily before he steps into your space, forcing you to meet his eyes again. 

He stares down at you with an intensity that makes you flinch. “Now, far be it for me to say that I know my wife-to-be by her demeanor alone, given that we’ve hardly corresponded beyond our initial agreement. But I find it mighty strange that a single, unaccompanied woman would show up in town with all of her earthly belongings as I’m expecting my own woman to show up any day. Hardly seems coincidental.”

“Don’t you think I would have sought you out if we were intended to wed?” you ask beseechingly. “Or that I would put up such a fuss now? What sort of bride would do that?”

“You want to know what I think, darling?” The timber of his voice deepens as he lowers his head slightly, wrapping the conversation in a layer of intimacy despite its public nature. There’s a darker note to his voice now, a thinly-veiled anger. “I think you’ve been keeping yourself housed and fed off the back of men like me and the money you’ve been sent to compensate for the rough journey. I think your guilty conscience brought you here because you know that the Lord doesn’t look too kindly on swindlers and thieves.”

“I’m not a thief,” you hiss in protest, affronted. Ironic that you’d be insulted by his words when the truth is far worse. 

“I’m sure you had your reasons,” Price permits, a reluctant softness in his voice. “But your conscience did you right. Marriage will suit you far better than a life of crime ever could.”

If only he knew. “You’ve still got it all wrong—I’ve never once even glanced at the matrimonial pages or the personals. And I certainly didn’t come to town expecting to be wed.”

You did, however, arrive in town with a guilty conscience. Even you’re wise enough not to mention that, though.

“Then if you're not her, who are you?” he asks. 

It’s clear from his tone that Price doesn’t believe you, but the question itself makes you antsier than even the thought of marrying this man. He still stares down at you in challenge, an eyebrow cocked. If you wanted to, you could easily answer his question and even furnish proof—a letter from an aunt or uncle or a telegram from a previous employer. 

That last thought makes your throat squeeze tight. You could furnish proof, but at what cost? You’re still unclear on how much information has been disseminated or whether you're a wanted woman. Though only weeks have passed since the event that caused you to flee in a haste, there’s no telling whether a warrant has been put out for your arrest, no telling whether word has reached a town this far west. 

“Not that it matters, but I’m from New York,” you say, scrunching up your nose. 

The look he gives you is unimpressed. “I’m sure you lost the accent on the train ride.”

Embarrassment makes you dig your heels in deeper. “I didn’t grow up there, it’s just where I’ve lived for the past few years.”

“And what’s your name?”

“…Elizabeth Smith.” 

It’s the first name that occurs to you, but the moment the words come out of your mouth, you can’t help feeling like you’ve made a huge mistake. Price must sense it too because he draws back up to his full height, lips twitching into a small smirk. 

“You have family or a post back in New York, Miss Smith?” he asks in a patronizing tone. 

“Family.” 

“Alright, then it shouldn’t be too hard to get confirmation and settle this whole issue.” He points behind you to one of the unoccupied rooms. “Telegraph’s office just behind you. We’ll get in touch with the Census Bureau and ask them to confirm your identity. And, if you are who you say you are, Miss Smith, then we can put this issue to rights.” 

Your blood goes cold. “That’ll—that’ll take time though. I can’t marry you today if they only get back to you in a week’s time.”

Price nods, his expression dissatisfied but resolved. “Wouldn’t be proper for you to stay at the house either, but I’ll make sure the inn lets you stay free of charge until this is settled. You’ll be in good hands under the Pattersons’ watch.” 

He doesn’t say it outright, but you hear the implication in his words. You’d be essentially under house arrest, perhaps free to move about town, but certainly not free to take the next train out. 

Your pulse thumps nervously at the base of your throat. Even swallowing takes effort now. The weight of his stare takes root in you, a living coil in your belly. No getting out of it. There’s no getting out of this. You don’t know why you thought you could, how you tricked yourself into thinking for even a moment that a man as formidable as the one set in front of you would simply give in. Let you go. You’ve hardly even moved the needle. 

It’s there still in his eyes. Not even doubt—something quite far past that. Certainty. 

“‘Elizabeth Smith of New York’, was it? Come, we’ll have them start the message and you can give me your birthday as well so it’ll be an easy find—” Price says, attempting to slip around you to head to the telegraph’s office. 

“No.” 

It slips out of you inadvertently, high and panicked. He pauses at the word. More than just your words. When you look down, you notice your fingers clenched in the fabric of his sleeve, bringing him to a halt. It pulls taut against the muscle of his forearm. 

Softness bleeds back into him at your touch. You can see it smooth out the lines of his forehead and the jut of his brow. He ignores the onlookers still hovering by the double doors to twist back to you, now obscuring their view of you. The breadth of his shoulders nearly blocks the rest of the foyer from sight when he looms over you like this. Down the hall, you can hear a gavel pound down on wood and a litany of raised voices in unison from behind a shut door. 

“You don’t have to make up stories,” Price murmurs, drawing a hand up to cup your cheek, holding it like a precious thing. “I told you before—all’s forgiven.”

His words remind you of being trapped in his office, drawers stripped down your ankles and skirt pulled up to your waist. Your bottom still smarts from the palm of his hand, still hot and sore to the touch. It’s hardly been long since then and yet it feels like an age ago, like trying to find your way in a dust storm. 

You open and shut your mouth, lost for a way out. Caught between a rock and a hard place. Marriage or a jail cell. You swallow. Both sound like a sentencing. 

But there are the cold, metal bars of a cell, and then there’s John Price. The first man in an age to elicit more than a passing glance from you. Deep blue eyes crinkled with the folds of old laughter, wide shoulders, and barrel chest. In another time, you think you would’ve jumped at the chance to be courted by a man like him. Keeled over at the very thought of being chased the way he hunts you down now. 

“Alright,” you say instead, giving in. The hand fisting his sleeve shakes. “Alright.”

It’s not a pleasant giving in. Your permission is handed over with shot nerves. The coil bunched up in your core burns white hot, hissing and spitting like a rattlesnake. 

Still, when he drags a thumb over the slope of your cheek, you fight not to let your eyelids flutter shut. “Good girl. We’ll make it work, love. Won’t be easy, but it never is.”

You don’t anticipate that it will be, but your mouth stays shut. Price must think you mollified, soothed rather than resigned to your fate, because he passes his thumb once more over your cheekbone, this time so tenderly that you wait for his lips to descend upon yours again, sure from the heat in his eyes that he won’t be able to keep from stealing another kiss. You lick your lips out of habit—not just to see the way his eyes follow the motion. 

Then the door at the back of the building bursts open to a cacophony of shouts and hollering voices. The moment broken, Price drops his hand away from your cheek, only to take your hand in his this time, pulling you down the hall towards the register’s to await the circuit preacher. He makes you walk on the side closest to the wall, shielding you from the men that burst out of the courtroom, surging towards the doors. You think that someone must have been found guilty because the lot of them look joyous, clamoring over each other for attention. 

You think that you might be spared another minute or two, enough time for them to clean up and reset the courtroom, but you’re shocked to find the circuit preacher ready to conduct the ceremony in the cramped register’s office. He and Price shake hands enthusiastically, the preacher turning to you to grasp your hands in welcome before turning back to the sheriff. They have a camaraderie that speaks of old friendship. 

The cramped room where you’re married smells of patchouli and moth wings, like holes burrowed into sweaters at the back of a closet. The bookshelves along the walls are stacked with books old enough that you know they’d crinkle deliciously if opened. You try to listen as the preacher begins the introductory prayer. Behind you, another man slips into the room, a witness. He hardly bothers to introduce himself for such a brief affair. 

You haven’t been to many weddings, but you always imagined that yours—if you were privileged enough to have one—might have more fanfare. The wedding you actually get is a brusque affair, a brief recital of vows that ends only when the preacher enjoins Price to kiss his wife. 

His wife. 

Your eyes go wide when a hand flattens along your spine and pulls you into a hard chest, John dipping his head down to kiss your mouth again. His kiss is less chaste this time, not restricted by convention as earlier. This time, his tongue licks hot into your mouth, like no kiss you’ve ever had before, beard scratching your face. His mouth tastes like something you’ve never had before, like heatburst. Hot and wet. Soft and suckling. Any kiss you’ve had before pales in comparison—juvenile fumbling, all dry and half-humiliated, unsure of yourself. Nothing like being kissed by your husband.

Your husband. 

He only pulls away when the preacher finally clears his throat, a tad embarrassed. You’re too dazed to feel the same, fingers still sunk into the lapels of Price’s vest, clutched there. It takes a moment for your brain to catch up and your hands to unclench. You feel Price tug your hands away and slip something onto your finger.

The few documents needing to be signed hardly takes any longer. You finally notice the man that had slipped in behind the two of you, a masked man even larger than Price, who nods at him before glancing at you only long enough for you to notice that his eyes seem curiously blank. 

“Thanks, Simon,” Price says as the man—Simon—signs under your names, but he only grunts. The ink is still wet when he leaves. 

“How was it so fast?” you ask absently, staring at the papers as the ink sits drying and the preacher takes his own copy before handing John his. 

“Everything’s practical out here, darling.” His hand holds you by the waist again, relaxed this time. Not worried about whether you might run. “Even the weddings.”

“You don’t…you don’t even serve dinner? Invite guests over? No gifts?” The questions are irrelevant, but you ask them anyway because it’s a way to focus on anything other than the preacher handing you the final copy of the papers and Price leading you back down the hall and out the doors. 

There’s a ring on my finger, you think, looking down. It sparkles when you twist your hand from side to side. Topaz, instead of diamond. 

“Maybe if you’d showed up on time,” Price reminds you. He no longer sounds upset about it, but it still seems to come out as an admonishment. 

You don’t respond to that. Perhaps you’re still shell-shocked, looking at the world through new eyes. It feels unreal that in the span of less than a day, you’ve been plucked up and married off, to the sheriff no less. The one man you would’ve tried your hardest to avoid crossing paths with. 

No chance of that now. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, still in a daze. The sun makes you squint when you leave the courthouse, making you miss the hat back in your room at the inn. Maybe you can convince Price to let you go back to collect your things.

“I think we’re due for a honeymoon, don’t you, darling?”

You go doe-eyed at that. When you look up, your husband is already smiling down at you, crow’s feet wrinkling at the sides of his eyes. 

“Let’s go home.”

[wyvernest]

tú eres mi vida

( part 1) (next part)

pairing: miguel o'hara x wife!reader

warnings: a lot of fluff, suggestiveness, foreplay?

summary: with the opportunity of a surprise, miguel makes the most of your honeymoon

He walked away from the hammock with you, hanging over his shoulder, ass in the air, making sure to keep a large hand over it, both to conceal you from wandering eyes and to grope at the plump flesh every now and then.

All you're seeing is the beaten path through the shore's sand and the junction between the beach and the hotel's green gardens. He skips the alley leading to your room, your eyes widening in amusement. You know he's good with directions, as long as you're talking about the spider-verse. Otherwise, in the blissful comfort of your honeymoon, you may have caught him further away from the stoic, attentive leader he's gotten used to being.

"Miguel, baby, you missed it. It's that way." you giggle lightly, tapping his lower back, careful enough not to make him feel bad. The last thing you want to do is blow off his mood.

"I know." His tone is confident, teasing. Your chuckles are silenced abruptly at the reply, utter perplexity taking over you. All the places and facilities around the resort flash through your head one by one, none fitting for what you were intending to do. And you haven't discussed love-making in seawater yet, either.

"Where are we going then?" you inquire, after throughout accession of all possibilities.

"Paciencia, cariño. It's a surprise." He reveals, full of pride and excitement, voice lowered and playful. You shiver, gripping into his waist to support your upper body and look around, scanning for said surprise.

He gets to the entrance of the private beach, still not stopping. With a sudden jump, he hops on the pier, your weight secure over his shoulder. You can't deny the wetness gathering in your panties at the thought of how effortlessly he carries you around, showing everyone that you're his, and most importantly, that he's about to make the most of it.

You watch the waves crashing softly against the darkened wood of the pier, clear and cold. You feel the breeze blow up over your bare thighs, shivering. He runs a hand over the exposed skin, up underneath the fabric of your flimsy skirt, stopping shy of the small mound of your cunt. You squirm slightly, needing his touch up higher, but he retracts his wandering hand and tightens his grip over you.

Finally, he reaches the water bungalows. Small huts connected by piers in a web-like distribution. Your eyes fixate on the king-size bed sheltered by wooden walls on all sides, except for the one facing the sea. Open and free, white curtains flowed by the bed frames, carried on the wind's wings like sails on a ship.

His knees hit the bed before he lays you down on the soft, clean, white mattress, his back facing the open view. You shift under his shadow, scurrying back towards the bed frame, watching him crawl over to you, slow and methodical.

He grabs your ankles faster than the time it would’ve taken you to escape and rile him up further, pulling you under him so that he’s straddling your hips, holding you in place. You lift yourself on your elbows, attempting to move your legs out of the cage, gazing up at him.

“What d’you think?” He asks, toying with the elastic of your skirt.

“I’ve never been happier.”

You drop your head back down on the bed, having stopped fighting the impossible hold he’s forced you in, between his muscular thighs. He smiles sweetly, satisfied with himself.

“It’s been almost impossible to find one of these available. But now that I have you here,”, he bends down, an inch away from your face. His hot breath fans your mouth, and you take it all in, the scent of him, the fresh bedding, the sea breeze. Your eyelids fall heavy, and he closes the gap between you, kissing you slowly, unhurriedly, like you have all eternity to spend together in paradise, and you’re just getting started. And maybe that’s exactly what it is.

You taste his lips, strawberry sweet and ever loving, feeling your eyes roll back at the sensation. He cups your face with one hand, holding you from fainting, and you let him lead. You feel his body move against yours, yearning to be closer and closer. His happy trail rubs onto your stomach, skin to skin. Every ridge of his defined abdomen pushes down onto you, chest rising and falling with each breath.

Struggling to keep up with the kiss, you sense his hands drift lower, to your waist, and you flinch ever so slightly, muscle memory kicking in. You mentally pray that he won’t–

And he does. He resumes his earlier attack, tickling you and abusing all the sensitive and funny spots he knows so well.

You scream through the uncontrollable laughter, fragments of his name that he otherwise hears in a different context, but which he adores nonetheless. His grip loosens momentarily, and you slip away like a cobra in desert sand. Before you can manage to get up and make a run for it, he grabs onto your skirt, his talons ripping through the material, leaving you in your shirt and panties. You protest, but he’s quick to drag you back on the bed. He laughs wholeheartedly, pinning you to the white sheets. You’re more than certain that the racket can be heard from miles away, but you couldn’t care less.

In an attempt to shield yourself, you bring your arms to your sides, tears already rolling down your eyes as you’re running out of breath and energy. He stops, and squeezes his thighs around your waist. You’re not leaving.

As he gathers the white sheets, pulling them over you both, you try to ignore the weight of his half-hard cock that’s now resting on your midriff. Or not.

You run your hands up his burly thighs, over his hip bone and up his abdomen, feeling the muscles ripple with his movements. He gives you a knowing look, bringing the sheet over his head, trapping you in a semi-transparent cocoon.

“Who’s gonna see us? The fish?”, you manage to say, feeling the remnants of an explosive giggle kick back in right after you’ve calmed down.

“I’m not taking any chances. There are speedboats.” he mumbles, as he adjusts above you.

“They’re not allowed so close to the-” he cuts off the rest of the sentence, slamming his lips onto your once again, and just like earlier, he has you melting in his arms in no time. It’s almost embarrassing how he manages to surf you through emotions so quickly and effortlessly, but you blame it on the beauty of being utterly and irrevocably in love. His lips move against yours with expert ease and precision, stopping every now and then to breathe, barely breaking away, as your exhales mix together in desperation and fascination.

You wrap your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist, basking in the heat of his body radiating down on you. A groan reverberates in his chest at the action, resulting in him moaning in your mouth.

You continue to make out in the cool shade of the bungalow, sheltered from the blazing July sun, and every second you feel like it’s the first time again, butterflies in your stomach, heart about to burst.

When he finally parts from you, chest heaving, eyes half lidded, you feel as if you’ve been cut from a lifeline. He moves to your flushed cheeks, the kisses are open-mouthed and slow.

“Te amo. Tu eres mi alma”, he kisses below your temple, “mi corazón-”, he moves to your jaw and right below it, “-mi vida.”

He licks at your neck, kissing the sensitive skin with insistence, pressing himself closer to you.

“Y siempre lo serás.”

link to part one!

translations:

paciencia - patience

tú eres mi alma - you are my soul

y siempre lo serás - and always will be

a/n: ill do a part 3 i actually love this whole honeymoon idea:) i hope its at the very least a bit original with the bungalow and all that

ALSO if you're a native latin spanish speaker please correct me im here to learn and write him as well as i can<3

+thank you everyone for the AMAZING feedback ive received for the first part!! i really hope you like this one and the next just as much

taglist:

@cooch1ecruncher @nvkdjnvjkd @tsukkie-daisuke @noahspector

(it won't let me tag everyone, sorry if i missed you)

[inmaki]

as an apology for my constant disappearing here is a preview for my virgin nanami fic, hopefully done by the end of this month <3

hurt (comfort in full fic), making out, nanami being dumb

nanami kento was an orderly man.

not a single strand of his golden hair ever strayed from its place. his tie was never too far to the right or the left — only smack dab in the middle against his built chest.

his crisp, navy shirt didn't dare have a wrinkle on it, much like his allen edmond shoes that were free from any creases despite being worn every day for years.

it made you want to ruin him. ruin such perfection in all his towering glory.

and you did - at least, at much as nanami would let you.

intense makeout sessions happened every so often: during impromptu movie nights on the couch, in the morning under the warmth of your shared blankets, and especially after extra-hard days at work.

yet it never went further, no matter how hard you tried to initiate anything — whether it be a hand sliding down too low, or a soft moan into his mouth, nanami would be fumbling up an excuse to leave immediately. just like now.

"mmph.. 'missed you," you mumble against his swollen lips, sucking the bottom one greedily. the man had only just walked into the kitchen when you'd practically pounced on him in hunger.

despite his surprise, kento gives you the privilege of running your nails through his once-perfectly-slicked-back hair, grunting as you yank him even closer with his tie, loosening it in the process.

"missed you too, honey." even the simplicity of his giant hands caressing your waist sends a rush of arousal through your body, humming as you rub a hand down the solid ridges of his abs. he tasted like the coffee he'd probably been sipping languidly throughout the day, mixed in with the natural flavor of him.

memories of the sorcerer slipping in and out of the shower shirtless — toned torso on display and all — were some of the hardest in your book. occasionally, you would joke to him about dropping your panties then and there. you never actually dropped them (that could easily change if he so asked), but you were pretty much hanging on to them for dear life every afternoon.

and in response to your compliment, nanami would only chuckle nervously before shutting the door behind him to change in the closet. an ugly feeling would blossom in your chest every time at his lack of enthusiam or reciprocation to your desire, though you never let the thought spiral.

a few minutes later, your lips remained glued to his, passionately making out against the counter while continuing your adventure around his body, never straying below his belt.

nanami felt dizzy as he finally pushed away to take a breath. usually he was quite good at keeping up with your ineffable needs — he placed the blame on his depletion from work.

a groan involuntarily escapes him as you lower your lips to suck beneath his jawline, bound to leave a mark. "my love, what's got you so worked up?" he inquires with closed eyes, tilting his head up to give you further access.

you hum in approval of the action, sucking even harder. "told you, i missed you."

before you could stop to think, your hand that was once on his abs instinctively moved lower to rest just above his bulge, and then everything stopped.

with a shaky clear of his throat, nanami pushes off the counter, forcing you to back away while his hands drop to his beige dress pants.

your brows furrow. "what-"

"i'm gonna take a shower." his eyes avert, adam’s apple bobbing smoothly.

not another word follows as your boyfriend paces to the apartment's shared bedroom, leaving you to drown in your cynical thoughts.

if u wanna be tagged comment/send an ask! srry this is short but the full fic is much longer!!! i am like 3/4 done! i js procrastinate writing the smut (also the reason part 2 of my gojo fic is taking forever) T-T

read virgin gojo while u wait <3

[commando-rogers]

I call this one “excerpts from the email I sent my therapist on Friday”

she hasn’t responded and I think that’s for the best bc she doesn’t deserve to have the full brunt of my bewilderment unleashed upon her just yet

[xazse]

hear me out...fucking afab gojo in like canon au over his desk and him squirting all over important documents teehee (also like maybe add pussy slapping..its so hot idk why)

AFAB!GOJO x MALE!READER

Notes: pussyslapping really is hot

Pairings: Afab!Gojo x Male!Reader

Tags: Dom!Reader, Crying, pussyslapping, a little bit of manhandling, squirting

“Hold still Satoru, How are we supposed to make you feel even more good if you keep squirming” you inquire in his ear, he tries to answer you but is met by more aching pleasure.

Here you have him sat on your lap, legs spread wide open on either side of your legs, you have him in such an embarrassing, comprising postion. You’ve purposely made him face your desk, facing your important documents that meant a lot to your company.

Your cock is resting painfully under his ass, you’d been trying not to focus on yourself but instead on him, so far he’s only cum two times, that’s not nearly enough in your standards.

“Hnngh.. oh..” Satoru moans knock you out of your thoughts and begin fingering fucking his pussy again, starting the cycle again. He’s so incredibly wet: the slick sounds of you abusing his pussy has him starting up his crying again.

You remove your fingers from him and slap his clit roughly, “No crying remember? We agreed” he cries out while his body twitches upwards.

“My god Satoru, you sound like a fucking woman” you laugh out loud a little and continue your ministrations.

Slipping your fingers back into his cunt, you press a little deeper than before, stretching him out just a little more. He doesn’t know if he can take another orgasm, his body feels like it’s on fire, he can feel everything when you enter him, any attempt to relieve you is met with another harsh clap on his clit, it hurts so bad but he can’t find it in himself to ask you to stop.

He leans his head on your shoulder, looking up at you with so much adoration and love, he whines at you for a kiss, something to distract himself, you obliged, already starting to suck on his tongue lewdly, slurping sounds that make his pussy clench around your fingers. Soft breaths of air leave his lips every-time you part, but you quickly close the gap.

You’d figured it’s enough with the teasing and shift yourself to let your cock free, Satoru is still so impressed just by the size of you, you’re thick, when he had first heard so he expected you to be not so long but he was proven fairly wrong, you were just as long. That night you’d taken his virginity was painful and pleasurable.

You waste no time to filt your cock inside of him, it still hurts even with the two orgasms and how wet he is, you kiss him again to throw his mind somewhere else.

he’s quivering by the end of it, when your whole cock is nestled inside of him just right. You begin fucking up into him, fat cock pistoling into his sensitive hole.

“Feels so.. so good..” “hgnn-“ satoru babbles out. Tears decorate his waterline as you bounce him up and down your cock, you’re damn near abusing his pussy, using him as you would a flesh light, his cum from before is creating a thick ring around where you both meet.

His whole body quakes, you begin rubbing his clit just as roughly as you’re fucking him, as well as moving your fingers at the same pace, he tries to close his legs around the pleasure but you smack his clit again, a throaty whine is presented.

“I’m- im gonna..” “fu..fuck” his breathing speeds up and he’s trying to tell you he’s gonna cum, that he feels weird, everything feels so fucking weird. His legs twitch and he’s squirting, squirting all over your documents, papers, reports, all over your cock. His head is cloudy, he isn’t aware of what just happened, he can hear you scolding him: calling him nasty, a whore, gross all the names in the book, but you know that, that turned you on further, you stand up lifting him up as well.

You forcefully bend him on the desk he had just ruined, no mercy is given when you grab his hips and bounce him on your cock again. He’s just uselessly mewling, from this angle you stare at his swollen red pussy, you seem he needs to squirt one more time before you’re both satisfied.

[pinkishpearls]

FREAK IN YOU

smut | cocky!dom!chris x sub!reader

just to set the scene: your at a house party with chris, but as the night goes on, you both couldn’t help yourselves.

room full of beautiful women

but i want one.

His tongue swirls around your mouth, exploring all the places which you normally keep locked up. His tongue is like a key, unlocking all soft spots on your neck which he sucks and kisses which makes you groan. His muscular, slender hands grope your body in all the perfect ways, making you squirm at the pleasurable contact. “Chris…” you moan, soon trailing off as the euphoric feeling takes over your self control.

“There’s a room full of beautiful women-“ he cuts himself off to take time to undress you, unlatching your sleek, silky red dress off your skin, “-but I want one.” he seductively whispers in your ear, making you shiver as his hot breath hits your smooth, cold skin. You shudder and whine in response, “Chris, please.” you plead as you bring your hand to tug on the diamonds that lay on his neck. “Wanna wear my necklace hm, ma?” he breathes enticingly, “That’s not what I asked, Chris!” you whine, your head falling to the door with a thump in annoyance. “I don’t want your necklace, Chris! I want y-“ he interrupts you, placing his jewels on your neck.

“Beautiful, ma. Now, what do you want?” he coyly inquires, grinning as he sees the sexual frustration plastered across your face and in between your legs as now your spread wide open in anticipation. “I need you!” you whinge, the grip on his arms getting tighter. He winces, “Alright! Alright, princess!” he finally complies and you let go.

You couldn’t wait.

He slips off his shirt, before unzipping his jeans and pulling them down to his thighs, freeing his lengthy, pre-cum leaking dick. He breathes out as relief hits his lower abdomen. A bathroom in a house party wasn’t the most convenient place to have sex, but, hey! You were both so needy, even the tip of an iceberg would’ve made the cut. You smile watching Chris strip the fabric that lay on his body, revealing his perfect, nude body. He sheepishly smiles as he catches you staring at him, “Like what you see, hm?” he teasingly asks and you feel your cheeks heat up. “Oh shut the fuck up!” you giggle before, without any words, he engulfs you in a loving kiss.

You moan into the kiss and so does Chris, it was sloppy but it was just what you needed. Your petite hands come to grip his jaw, and he moans into your mouth. His big hands roam your body, gently squeezing and rubbing at your nipples. “Chris, I need you!” you moan as your lips part, “I know baby, I know.” he coos, lining himself up with your entrance. Your legs we’re wrapped around his waist for dear life, shaking as Chris starts to fill you up. “This ok, baby? Can I go further?” he groans and you nod eagerly in response. He stretched you out so good with his thick cock, it burned- burned so good.

You both curse out as his length is finally engulfed by your pussy. “Shit, so tight!” he grunts before softly thrusting into you, making your body hit the door.

Snap. Thud. Snap. Thud. Snap. Thud.

“Fuck, Chris!” you whinge, his hand now meeting the back of your head to protect it from the banging of the door. “You feel s-so good!” he groans over the ecstatic sound of both your skins slapping. “You look so beautiful, letting me fuck you in my jewels.” he grunts, dipping his head into the crook of your neck to protect the lewd sounds coming from his lips from getting any louder. “Shit, Chris!” you almost scream, your mouth falling more agape as your eyes roll even further back into their sockets. He fucks you so good on the door, you weren’t going to be surprised if it was going to break, making everyone encounter the intimate moment you and Chris were facing.

With every deep thrust, you feel Chris finally hit your g-spot. “Yes! Oh- oh Chris!” you murmur in ecstasy, the feeling getting too much to you as you feeling your upcoming orgasm race up to you. “I’m- I’m so close, Chris!” you warn, your face scrunching up slightly. The jewels on your neck bounce against your skin, and the coil in your stomach is getting too much. Your eyes roll back as you feel the the pleasurable feeling of your orgasm now wash over you. “Good girl ma- o-oh fuck!” he moans, his orgasm hitting him like a bus as his thrusts were now erratic and sloppy.

“Oh my God, Chris.”

“W-what?” he breathes out, still fucked out from his recent orgasm.

“We just fucked in someone’s bathroom! It stinks like sex in here!” you giggle.

You both glance at each other, before bursting into laughter.

[shewrites02]

Green With Envy |Zoro X Reader|

Jealous Zoro x reader

Zoro x Crewmate!Reader

A/N: This is for @dinuxia-bhm, Who requested Zoro Jealous of the shitty cook. This is my very first One Piece fic request so I hope I did it justice.

Request : Open

Word Count : 5.3k

Leave a comment if you enjoy ! :)

"If you stare any longer , you may actually burn the image of them into your brain." Nami teased. She bumped the swordsman with her elbow , only then drawing his attention to her presence. "

Do you plan on making a move or were you hoping to intimidate her into a relationship?"

Nami takes a seat at the table next to the pirate who also awaits the start of breakfast. His eyes glance over at her , contemplating if he has any harsh words for the navigator... He has half a mind to tell her to mind her own business. Relationship? He scoffs at the notion. The swordsman knew nothing of feelings or love. The taboo, he quickly determined, too ridiculous to even discuss. Zoro only huffs in disagreement then goes back to watching the displays of affection amongst you and the cook.

You were teaching Sanji how to make an authentic breakfast from your village. The cook had begged you for weeks to share your favorite recipe with him. Even offering to spend his own berries gathering all the ingredients.

"Sanji, why do you keep asking me about this?" You inquired on the third week.

" I know you've only been sailing with us for a couple months, but I'm sure you noticed how hard it is to be away from home. " He took the cigarette out his lips then ashed it on the railing before giving you a sincere smile. "I just want to be able to make you something if you get homesick."

It was difficult to decline such a heartfelt request.

"Here. Try it now."

You blew on the spoon hoping to cool it down. When most of the steam subsided , you extended your arm bringing the spoon to Sanji's lips. You steadied his chin with your free hand being sure not to spill the hot liquid on his face. He hummed in pleasure at the taste.

"I think you have outdone even me on this one, my love." Sanji grinned proudly.

"As if I could ever!"

You pushed your hand into Sanji's chest jokingly shoving him away from you. The cook grabs your wrist before you can pull away, drawing you in to plant a tender kiss on your cheek.

"Darling, you truly did an amazing job. Thank you for showing me."

The sight made Zoro's stomach turn. He watched how Sanji's hands fell to your waist when he moved around you to navigate the kitchen. Notice how you didn't shy away from his touch. How you actually offered a sweet smile to him in return . The marimo's body strained at every passing touch you and Sanji exchanged. His taut muscles are too tense to contract any further at the sight of Sanji's lips against your skin. "Why does he get to touch you?" The thought comes as a surprise to him.

"Here Zo , you wanna try ?" You asked.

You turn to him with a new spoonful of jam, blowing on it just as you had done for Sanji . You had taken notice of the swordsman's observations of you . Watch the way his eyes had followed your hands to Sanji's chin when you fed him . Zoro had sat at the table all morning supervising your lesson with the cook. You figured you could offer him that attention too.

"Marimo is too dense to appreciate such elegant flavors. " Sanji responds before Zoro has an opportunity to.

"Fuck you! It's only your shit cooking I don't appreciate!"

While the boys bicker you walk over to the table spoon in hand. Sanji had hurled another insult at the ex bounty hunter , but the delicate feeling of your fingers wrapping around his chin stopped any words Zoro may have had in return. There was a small pause where his eyes lingered on yours . Searching for something . Malice? Contempt? You didn't know. But When he found what he was looking for , or lack thereof , his lips parted.

"Is it good? Do you like it?" You asked using your thumb to wipe away the excess from the side of his mouth.

"Yeah..." His gaze shifts away from you. "Way better than the cooks."

You giggled at his words, allowing yourself to wallow in the heat that filled your chest at his praise. Amused at the small smirk that laid on his lips once he had gotten what he wanted. Your attention. You bend to bring your mouth to his ear.

"Silly swordsman, I have enough attention for the both of you." You whispered .

"I- that's not-"

The words trip and stumble out his mouth never once finding their feet. You could see the sweat begging to bead on Zoro's brow as his eyes shifted about in panic, looking for anything coherent to mumble back. The stoic pirate reduced to a fumbling teenager at your words. When he can come up with nothing, he decides to stop speaking. Annoyed, he crosses his arms against his chest and turns his head to face the navigator. He is met with the knowing grin on her face.

-

Your eyes scanned the room while your fingers aimlessly tapped against the sake bottle. You sat at the bar top alone , waiting for the rest of your crew-mates to join you . You should have known better than to think any of them would be on time. Sticking to the plan was not something the Strawhats were particularly versed in. Especially when they were all left to their own devices on a new island. You sigh, dragging your free hand down your face , attempting not to ruin your makeup in the process. It was beginning to get difficult to wait. The eyes of the pirate's in the bar watched you hungrily, and you feared one may try to satiate their appetite. Eyes still roaming the room, you hoped to see a familiar face.

"A pretty lady like yourself shouldn't be sitting all alone in a packed bar. " A man announces.

It's their captain. His arm is extended, hand out offering you a beer as he approaches. You smile, kindly declining. You hold up your own bottle, shaking it slightly to indicate its fullness as means of justification . The man nodded in understanding, but didn't leave. In fact he took the prolonged silence as an invitation to take a seat alongside you.

"Are you waiting on somebody?"

He casually rests his hand on your thigh as though he has already claimed you . You shift in your seat, turning so your legs would fall beneath the bar top. You're hoping the man would sense your discomfort at his proximity. His hand does not move. Instead his smile grows wider. Taking your movement as the green light to slowly drag his hand up toward your waist.

"My boyfriend is meeting me."

The lie slips past your lips with ease at the sudden rush of adrenaline. You go to swat the man's hands from you . The previous statement should be enough for him to understand you are not his to claim . The smile he wears drops. His hand doesn't move. Despite your physical protest. Your breath hitches in your throat at the growing realization of the situation you're in.

"He shouldn't have left you here all alone." The man's voice isn't above a whisper

His warning is gone just as quickly as it came , but your fear still lingers in the air. Your eyes bounce wryly from the door to the pirate who continued to creep into your space. "They're coming!" Your mind loops the words as if they were an incantation.

Then, as if to answer your fervent prayers, the bar door is shoved open. Luffy is the first of your crew to enter, his first mate trails behind him. You can see Zoro searching for you in the crowd, as the rest of the Strawhats messily file in after him. It doesn't take long for his eyes to find yours.

You don't have to say a word . The swordsman can sense your discomfort from where he stood. He saw the fear that engulfed the glimmer that resides in your eyes. He watched how you kept your arms held close to your body, afraid the man would reach for you. Notice how rigidly you cross your legs over one another . Then he sees the man's hand rubbing up and down your thigh. The swordsman starts making his way over to you, hand on the hilt of Shusui.

Zoro drew his sword placing the blade at the base of the man's wrist. The music in the bar stopped. The patrons are silent. Everybody's eyes fall on the three of you. Most filled with fear, your friends with confusion. But all watch the same as the conflict unfolds.

"Move your hand, before I slice it off."

There is a brief pause before the man laughs. A genuine belly hugging laugh at Zoro's imminent threat. Moments later the other men join in, egging their captain on.

"Is this the boyfriend you were talking about?"' The man asks, ignoring the ex bounty hunter. His eyes don't leave your body. Neither does his hand. "You almost got your lady in a lot of trouble , leaving her all alone in a bar like this."

Zoro's scowl deepens at the pirate's words. "Boyfriend? You had told the man he was your boyfriend?" The pieces slowly fall into place as the swordsman assesses the scene surrounding you. Alone, you sat in a bar full of pirates. The only other women present are staff of the small business. Zoro's eyes glance over at yours. His grip tightens around the hilt at the sight of your fearful expression. You had told the pirate he was boyfriend. Zoro finally understands.

"What kind of man would treat his girlfriend that way?"

"What kind of man uses his power to strong arm women? " The swordsman responds.

The question coals in the raging fire that was already roaring in the ex bounty hunter. The pirate had thought you were his, yet touched you anyway. Decided you were his to claim. To conquer. Then Justified his actions using the lack of Zoro's presence as an excuse. As if his absence was reason enough to encroach your space, and have you trembling in fear. Now the pirate captain had the audacity to question the type of man he was. It enrages Zoro.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

"Strong arm?" The captain stifles another laugh. His eyes finally look over to meet the swordsman. "We would've handled princess here real gentle."

The pirate clenches his fingers around you then goes to inch his hand further up your thigh. Zoro has seen enough. There is a sharp yelp preceding the sound of him sheathing his weapon. Your harasser's hand falls to the floor beneath your feet. Blood spews from his severed arm. You want to scream, but a sharp gasp falls from your lips instead. Almost instinctively Zoro's hand reaches out to grasp yours at the reaction.

You had seen Zoro cut down many men before, but being inches away from his blade as he does so was an entirely different experience. As you felt the warmth of the pirate's blood seeping into your dress, and wiped at the splatters of blood that littered your skin, you couldn't help but be a bit awestruck at his strength.

The captain's crew members rush to his aid as his screams continue. Zoro lets you squeeze his hand while you cautiously hop down from the bar stool, trying your best not to slip on the blood that covered the floor. He nudges you along to follow him. The only precursor you receive before the two of you walk into the single stalled bathroom at the back of the bar.

The small room didn't allot the two of you much personal space. If anything it forced you two into dangerously close proximity. As you stood in front of the sink , back to the mirror, you could feel Zoro's knees lightly brush yours when he reached to grab the paper towel off the roll. He bundles it up then brings it to your cheek. You take note of the small hesitation he makes before his hand lands on your chin . He licks the wad before swiping away at your cheek. A poor attempt to rid you of the scumbag's blood.

"I'm sorry." The words feel unfamiliar as they fall from the swordsman's mouth.

Your eyebrows raise to your temples. In all the months you had been sailing with the Strawhats , you have never heard Zoro apologize. You wonder what made this occasion so different. the slight widening of your eyes gives way to your surprise. Zoro notices and continues.

"I should have been on time."

"Don't be sorry Zoro. You saved me, thank you."

You bring your hand up to rest over his before smiling up at him. The look in your eyes, the one he had seen you give to Sanji so many times, was finally from his doing. His heart raced at your expression. He felt himself begin to sweat as the warmth of your stare spread across his skin. Zoro couldn't understand the physical response from his body. Part of him wanted to run. To flee the threat that seemed to be your piercing gaze. But a bigger part of him wanted to bask in its glow, doing anything imaginable to keep the sun out just a little while longer.

"Although " You giggle at the silly hunch. "I would have thought it would be Sanji to save me."

Your words bring raging storm clouds that wash Zoro's warmth away. He rolls his eyes. As though the notion was too implausible to even be considered. He brings the paper towel back to your cheek then speaks.

"The dumbass cook can barely save himself !"

"Is the moss head jealous?" You tease. " I'm happy it was you."

A loud bang on the flimsy wooden door interrupts the swordsman before he can respond. Seconds later it flings open, shaking on its creaky hinges. The sniper stands on the other side wide eyed.

"It's time to go!"

When you reunite with your crew there really is no need to explain the urgency of the situation. The pirate captain laid unconscious on the ground with a makeshift tourniquet wrapped around his arm. Apparently the crew had not taken kindly to Zoro's treatment of their captain, and seemed to have every intention of taking it out on the rest of the crew.

"C'mon guys there is surely no reason to make this much fuss over one hand." Brooke had tried to reason, his efforts in vain. The pirate crew wanted a fight.

"You pieces of shit!" Sanji swept his leg, thrashing a considerable number of men through the bar's singular window. "How dare he have the audacity to treat my darling , sweet love with such disrespect. And now you stand here trying to avenge your captain's actions... I won't allow it to go unpunished."

Sanji had enough fury in his heart to take on the entirety of the scumbag's lackeys. A fight was the only way to alleviate the emotions that were sure to get the better of him. In under three moves the cook had the no named pirate crew looking just as bad as their captain. The situation was settled.

-

"So the swordsman saves the day." Sanji says dejectedly as he brings the glass to his lips to take a drink. "At least you're okay."

You can't help the giddy smile that appears on your face at his mention. A bitter side effect of the alcohol. The navigator had suggested none of you go home empty handed after the chaos that ensued at the bar. Insinuated you had deserved a treat after all your troubles. There were no objections. At first you can only giggle at the cook's words. Butterfly's bloom in your chest when you think about the swordsman's delicate touch against your skin just moments after cutting a man down... for you. A slight chills crawls down your spine. You take a significant swig from the whiskey bottle in your hand hoping the burn of the alcohol sliding down your throat may warm you up.

"He's an interesting man , Uh?" You pause to glance towards the deck. "Zoro."

"That's one word."

Sanji's curly brows raise at your question. He turns to look at you, but you don't meet his gaze. You're looking out at the party . The cook watches your eyes while they search and scatter. He is trying to assess their intent, and then it dawns on him. You were looking for him. The Swordsman.

"You wouldn't happen to have a crush on mosshead would you?"

Your eyes dart back to Sanji , then away to look at the sea. Crush wasn't nearly a strong enough word to describe how you felt about Roronoa Zoro. Sometimes you would switch night watches with Nami just for the opportunity to watch the swordsman train in the crows nest. Although most of the time had been spent in silence , there was still something special about being in his presence. But Zoro's stoicism made it difficult to discern his feelings. You had thought him so unconcerned with your presence for so long that you had resorted to blatant teases and flirting with him in the first place. If only to fluster him. You craved acknowledgment from Zoro, in the way your lungs craved oxygen. desperately.

"I have been obsessed with the swordsman since the day Luffy dragged me onto the sunny... "

"Obsessed uh?"

Sanji lets out a genuine laugh at the words. Amused by the way the alcohol loosens your tongue. He had always taken notice of your affinity toward Zoro. Witnessed how differently you spoke to him than the others. Your crewmates had easily labeled you a flirt, but the way you riled Zoro had been different than the jokingly stated endearments you passed the rest of them.

Sanji glances around you to spot the swordsman on the deck. As he suspects the green haired pirate is surveilling them. When their eyes meet Zoro turns his head to stare at the antics of their captain, feigning interest. "If the dumbass mosshead had even the slightest ounce of emotional intelligence the two of you would be happy now." Sanji is surprised when the thought bumps into his head.

"Well, darling" Sanji wraps his arm around your shoulder to draw you into him. You rest your head on his chest, then he continues to speak. "I have half a mind to say marimo likes you too."

The swordsman lays against the mast , feet crossed in front of him downing his third bottle of the night. He doesn't understand his anger at your actions; This scalding feeling that envelops him at the way you rest your head on Sanji's chest encourages him to drink more. He tries to dismiss his thoughts, convince himself that he doesn't care, but they bombard him like a buster call.

"Why did the cook get to hold you?" "He was the one who saved you. Why are you batting your eyelashes at Sanji and not him ?" "What else does he have to do to keep your attention?" "What about the shit cook was so much better than him?"

Zoro sees you part from the cook, and watches as you trek back to the party. He assumes you'll rejoin Nami and Robin, considering the tipsy women are calling your name so fervently. His brows raise when you pass them giving a placating wave. You're making your way over to him.

"Don't tell me you're already done drinking Zoro. I hadn't known you to be such a lightweight." You jest, pointing over to the 3 empty bottles that sat alongside him.

Zoro smirks before reaching for the half empty bottle that was clutched in your fingers. He wraps his large hand around yours then guides you to bring the bottle to his lips so he can take a drink. When he is done he wipes the excess from his lips using the back of his hand.

"You done smiling at the cook?"

He releases his hold on you then turns his head so your eyes won't meet his. He's staring at the sea as if it will answer his question. You mock a gasp bringing your free hand to your chest. Then you giggle.

"Roronoa! You're so jealous."

"No I'm not!"

You bring your hand to Zoro's cheek guiding his eyes back to yours. You offer him a sly smirk before you bend at the waist to meet his face. You're so close Zoro can feel your breath on his cheeks.

"Yes you are mossy. So spoiled, wanting my attention all to yourself. It's okay, I'm here now."

Zoro jerks his chin away from your grasp. His face scrunches into a frown. It's difficult for him to discern if it's anger, or embarrassment that's swelling inside him. The words fall from his lips before he has a chance to assess them.

"I'm not jealous!... I don't even know what the shitty cook sees in you."

Zoro wishes he could snatch the words back before they hit your ears. Hates how you wince at what he says. The way your smile dropped while you ruminated on his words. There is no more sunshine in your tear pooled eyes, only storm clouds. He knows it before the first tear has fallen. He's gone too far. You storm away from him.

-

"You made her cry." Sanji states as he pulls the cigarette for his lips. He puffs the smoke out then turns to Mosshead for an answer.

Zoro is in the crow's nest hiding from the peering eyes of his crewmates. Surely the cook hadn't been the only one to notice your early departure from the party only moments after the conversation you two had. The others were bound to have questions of their own soon. None of which Zoro cared to answer.

"I didn't mean to." Is all the swordsman can muster. The image of your broken hearted eyes are seared into his brain. Why did he say that? He wants to bang his head against the wall at the thought. Sanji rolls his eyes at the excuse. Not assuaged by the swordsman's words. Intent had no significance in Sanji's mind, all that mattered was that he was the source of your tears.

"What did you say to her?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Bullshit."

Zoro walked toward the dumbbells that laid on the floor . He decides lifting is a better option than repeating his misgivings. He had no intention of admitting to the cook that he himself had been the source of Zoro's rage.

"Why do you care?" Zoro snaps back . He's deflecting.

"Because I care about her. She's cried herself to sleep and it's your fault!"

"If you care so much you fix it!"

"I wish I could marimo, I would love nothing more than to take that darling lady away from you."

Zoro scrunched his face into yet another frown. From him ? Zoro had never believed you his to begin with . Had that been the case he would've cut the chef down ages ago for his fleeting touches and stares.

"Take her, I don't care."

At this the cook let out a loud laugh that threatened to escape the confines of the crow's nest. He genuinely couldn't believe the swordsman could be so oblivious of his own feelings. When Sanji catches his breath, he can't help his devilish smile.

"... So you wouldn't mind if I climb into her bed tonight? You know she asked me."

Zoro's jaw clenches. He lowers the dumb bells away from his chest then drops them to the floor. Now his eyes meet the cook. Sanji takes it as an invitation to continue.

"I think she wanted the comfort after y'all's ... run in."

More fuel is added to Zoro's already racing thoughts. This time, he could not convince himself he was unbothered. Couldn't find a deep place to push the discomfort. The cook always got the best parts of you. Parts the swordsman so desperately wanted to save for himself. Zoro was sick of it.

"Don't touch her."

A sharp chuckle falls from Sanji's lips at the irony. Zoro couldn't admit to how he feels about you, but is standing there contemplating cutting him down at the mere thought of letting him into your bed. How could marimo be so stupid?

"Yeah mosshead, You don't care about her at all." Sanji mocked.

"You don't know what you're talking about?" Zoro scoffs.

What does the shitty cook know of his feelings, when he himself could not sort them out.

Sanji can only shake his head in disappointment. He brings his fingers to the bridge of his nose to pinch it slightly before letting out a dismissive sigh. Oh how'd he wished to take your mind away from the swordsman. Wished it was he who was the object of your affections, but the cook knew you would never be obsessed with him in the same way you were marimo. As painful as that may be.

"Zoro, if you lose the girl you're in love with because you're too stupid to figure out your feelings..." He takes a drag from his cigarette "You're a bigger dumbass than I thought."

"Why do you give a shit if things work out?t" Zoro snarls. He wonders why Sanji has suddenly taken his feelings into so much consideration.

"Honestly mossy I don't. You don't deserve her. but she loves you and she deserves to be happy. You'll make her happy. That's all I really want... "

-

Sanji set the plate down on the vanity. He peers over at you wrapped in the thick comforter. You had allowed it to engulf you, face and all. You had not moved since he had come to see you last. That was at breakfast. Still you faced the wall with your back to him. There is a slight hesitation in his step before he walks further into the room.

"You sure everything is okay?" He inquires for the second time.

"I'm fine Sanji. Really." You attempt to sound reassuring.

The cook nods in understanding. He is not convinced , but will not ask for a third time . Instead he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. A sigh of relief leaves your lips. You didn't want to tell Sanji the truth. That you were too embarrassed to face the swordsman. That his rejection looped continuously through your mind, making it impossible to sleep. Had Zoro really meant what he said ? Were you just making a fool of yourself this whole time? The thought makes you shudder.

Sanji pushes his way through the door to enter the kitchen. He is met with the eyes of his crewmates who waited for him at the table in anticipation . He shakes his head. Nami and Robin release their sighs of disappointment .

"I wonder why she won't join us." Robin inquires.

"First breakfast, now lunch... She must really be feeling bad." Nami continues.

"I can go check on her... " Luffy chimes in "maybe she'll tell me what's wrong."

Luffy goes to grab a handful of the chopped fruit Sanji had placed on the table . Sanji swats his captain's hands away before sitting another plate down, this time sandwiches. Zoro has now entered the kitchen hearing the tale end of the Strawhat's woes. He feels the way the cooks eye borough into his skull, knowing that they're scowling at him. Zoro doesn't look his way. He knows that it is his fault you've gone missing . He doesn't need the cook to remind him.

"Marimo is going to check on her." Sanji announces.

The room falls quite as eyes are now on the swordsman. Nami cringes in disbelief, shaking her head vigorously.

"I don't think that's a good id-"

"Don't worry, he'll fix it." Sanji ends Nami's sentence before she has the chance to.

His crew eyes him with unsure stares. Zoro had never been one to offer much comfort, even in the most dark of times. They didn't see how he'd be the answer to their troubles. Sanji does not elaborate on his statement. He offers his crew a smile before setting the homemade chips on the table and announcing lunch is ready.

-

"Sanji , you don't have to keep coming in here every fifteen minutes to check on me. " You say to the sound of knocking at the bedroom door.

You pull the blankets back to face who you thought was the cook. Zoro stood there in his place. His back against the bedroom door like he was still contemplating if he should stay or not. You sit up at the feeling of your heart shooting to your throat.

"What are you doing here?"

"You haven't come out all day." He responds as if that answers your question. When you don't say anything back , he assumes he should continue. "They're worried about you."

Zoro's hand falls to the nape of his neck, he rubs sheepishly then looks down at the floor. You roll your eyes, dissatisfied with his answer. You pull the blankets up to cover your face then turn your back to him.

"Go away Zoro."

It hurts him to hear, although he knows he has no right to be upset. When he heard you didn't show up for breakfast, he'd felt worse than when the words initially fell from his mouth. Truth be told he had hid in the crow's nest as long as he could trying not to run into you this morning . Thought that he was giving you space to breathe without his watchful eye.

"I- I was jealous... of you and the cook."

Zoro pauses waiting for a reaction from you to see if he should keep talking or not. There's an unusual shake of fear in his voice you don't recognize. You sit up to face him once again.

"I was mad and I took it out on you. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

This has made two apologies from the ever prideful pirate.

"You hurt my feelings." Your voice is soft , fragile as you respond.

"I know..." The swordsman pushes himself from the door to take a step towards you. "If I could eat the words I would."

You gaze into his eyes for a moment, searching for an ounce of deception. You know you won't find it . If the swordsman had not meant his words, he would not have gone out of his way to say them. But still you look to reassure yourself.

"Zoro I don't understand makes you so angry about my relationship with Sanji?"

"I don't like it when he touches you." The swordsman confesses.

You smirk at his candor. All this over the playful touches the cook had thrown your way. It was almost too sweet to believe you had the swordsman so twisted at the sight of you sharing your affection. You swing your legs so they fall off the edge of the bed. You're staring at him intently. Zoro is nervous under your gaze . You can tell by the way he fiddles with his fingers aimlessly.

"You don't like when Sanji touches me ?" You repeat. You pause to offer the swordsman a chance to take back his words. But he does not renege.

"...I don't like when anyone touches you."

Your giggle is involuntary. The smirk on your lips is now a full blown smile. Despite the pain that had come from it, you couldn't help but love the thought of the swordsman jealous over you. Before you were just joking , but to hear the words from Zoro's mouth himself was truly blissful.

"Roronoa... Do you have a crush on me?"

"Crush on you?" He ponders like it's the first time he's thought about it. "I don't think that's a strong enough word."

"No?"

He shakes his head taking a step toward you . His hand meets your cheek. He is hesitant. Thinks you may pull away from his touch. But the swordsman is pleasantly surprised when you lean into his hand.

"Sanji says I'm in love with you."

Your heart skips at the word. Love. It sounded so sweet coming from Zoro lips. You wondered what you would have to do to hear him say it again.

"Yeah? And what do you think?"

"I think he might be right."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N : I stared at this so long, I might have it memorized at this point lol. I'm not sure if I'm happy with it , but it is a labor of love nonetheless.

{If you would like to be added to my tag list lemme know! I would Love to have you}

[kokon0is]

THEY LET YOU JOIN...

kirara and hakari x gn!reader. SMUT.

contains: gn!reader, threesome, lots of hair pulling, deep throating, uprotected sex, jealous hakari if you squint,

You're always been jealous of Hakari and Kirara's relationship, it's so free and intimate... sometimes you'll find yourself touching yourself by the thought of them but you can't seem to pick between the two. Both--- you want both.

After that night you feel so ashamed of yourself, to even look at them directly. There's no way you just thought of having a threesome with your classmates? Sick.

Kirara seems to notice your awkward attitude towards them, naturally she decided to tell Hakari about it. "Hmm... Kin...Y/n 's been acting weird lately, like-- she's avoiding me, it's really weird" She hummed as she got on Hakari's lap and traced random shapes on his exposed neck.

"Hmm? Don't worry about 'em, they probably wanna fuck" Hakari smirked, though Kirara didn't take this lightly and began smirking herself. "Say... why don't we let Y/n join next time?" She inquired with a widening smirk.

---

You kinda wish that this is all just a dream, you, on your fours with your back arch in a perfect angle as Hakari pound the shit out of you. Meanwhile your mouth is busy sucking off Kirara's cock.

"Fuck--- You're sucking me in so tight" Hakari hissed as he gripped tightly on your hips and thrust in harshly, almost feeling the tip of his heavy dick against your cervix.

"Ngh... so unfair-- Ahh-- Tighter than me? Kin?" Kirara whined in between her moans and she gripped tightly on your hair and pushed you head down further to make sure her dick could make it on the very back of your throat, just because she spite you. You gagged, but that only turned Kirara on even more.

"Heh-- course not baby, i'll fuck that tight ass later on--shiit!" Hakari's been holding himself back as he thrusted deep and short against your hole, savoring the warmth and tightness of you. Kirara finally pulled your head up making a mess out of your mouth, spit everywhere and even more on her dick, she seems satisfied with the view, she smirked.

"Suck, c'mon..." She slightly shook your head while still gripping on your tangled hair. You obediently obliged and gave her the sloppiest you could get. It all has been too much, the vibrations of your moans around her dick is only making her whimper a little louder.

"Gaaah-- Yes! Kin-- fuck them good.... ahh so good" Kirara babbled as she finally let go of your hair and propped both of her hand behind to support her upper body and threw her head back.

"Ya enjoying there angel..." Hakari smirked and began pounding harder on your hole to fulfill his pretty girlfriend's request. Your moans turning into high pitched whimpering against Kirara's dick, it made you even graze your teeth on her dick accidentally, making her groan in pain but let it slide just this time.

You couldn't even breathe well and decided to lift your mouth off Kirara's dick and replace it with your hand to stroke her for the mean time. You pant heavy, letting out the moans you didn't get to let out while sucking her off.

"Aaah...ngh-- please im gonna cum-- please" Your eyes already rolled back as you pleaded, your hands on Kirara is slowing down a little since you're focus on your own high. This made Kirara frustrated and desperately tried to get her dick in your mouth again but you avoided.

You reach out to play with her tits for a while to keep her distracted, pinching her cute little nipples between your thumb and pointer fingers and fondle her tits, making her moan. Hakari then pulled you hair back and made you suck his girlfriend's dick again.

"Suck her off bitch-- that's your only task" Hakari growled against your ears as he thrusted harder against you. You gagged and moaned at the sudden penetration in your mouth but did you job anyway.

Your legs started to shake as if your knees are about to give up soon, your orgasm is just nearing at this point. When you felt Kirara shove your head down and felt her hot cum shoot down your throat, that's it for you. You came on the spot and around Hakari's dick.

The clenched drove Hakara over the edge and thrusted deep so he could cum inside you. When he pulled out you could feel the warm liquid ooze out of your hole, as it dripped down your legs.

Kirara finally let go of your head and pulled her dick out of your mouth. "Fuck me too Kin..." You heard Kirara speak but you're too exhausted to even know what's happening.

All you see on your peripheral vision is Kirara getting pounded by Hakari this time. You passed out on the bed with a smile, but this time you hope it wasn't a dream at all.

[hisnumber1]

Devil's Embrace

Paring: Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Summery: (Y/n) had found herself at the hazbin hotel. She never thought of redemption but she got a free room while she does her work. (Y/n) made outfits and tailored for people if they pay enough. She loves trying to make unique dresses for balls or for higher class. Keeping her name in the high class of hell, she tailored for the king of hell himself. Finding herself tailoring for him in the hotel of his daughter is an interesting situation.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: fluff, slowburn, close proximity.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

I find myself leaning back in my seat, sighing. Watching AngleDust flirt with Husker and he growls in response. Charlie is putting more stuff on her board as she tries to figure out how to make the hotel work. I jump back on feet, strolling down the hallway ways to get to my room. I walk into my room filled with drawing and projects I've worked on. I fall flat on my face into my bed, I turn my head, looking at my recent project of a dress.

The dress was a long ballroom dress, with a long v going down the chest. The sleeves were mesh, and at the top it came off the shoulder. The skirt came out and poofed out, with the back covered in a long black mesh. The dress was white, with highlights of red, all of the mesh was black, giving it a dark energy.

Something just seems off, I don't know what it is but it just does. I hear a ping come from across the room. Lifting up my head and seeing my phone light up, I groan as I pull myself up. Walking to my table, I grab my phone and sit on the table. I read the notification, it was an email. I tapped on it, scanning over the text.

"Dear Ms. (L/n),

I hope this email finds you well. I recently purchased a suit, while I am pleased with the quality and style, I find that it is slightly larger than my measurements. Therefore, I am writing to inquire about the possibility of having it tailored to a smaller size.

The suit in question is a white Shawl Lapel with red highlights, the fabrics are jacquard and velvet, and I purchased it about a week ago. I have attached a copy of the receipt for your reference.

I would greatly appreciate it if you could provide me with information on the process and cost involved in resizing the suit. Additionally, if you require any further measurements or details, please do not hesitate to let me know.

I am eager to have the suit adjusted so that it fits perfectly, and I trust your expertise in handling this matter. I am available to schedule an appointment at your earliest convenience.

Thank you for your attention to this request. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Warm regards,

Lucifer Morningstar"

I sigh as I look at the photos he sent. It is a beautiful suit, but if I did it, the style would be better, but it is not mine. Thinking of what the price is, I need to get his exact measurements to tailor it correctly. Pressing the reply button, I started typing out my reply.

'Dear Mr. Morningstar,

Thank you for reaching out and for providing the details regarding your suit purchase. I appreciate your trust in our tailoring services.

I will be more than happy to assist you with resizing your suit to ensure a perfect fit. Before proceeding, could you please bring the suit to my studio for a fitting session? This will allow me to accurately assess the alterations needed and provide you with a precise cost estimate.

Once I have examined the suit, we will discuss the adjustments required and provide you with a timeline for completion.

Please let us know a convenient time for you to visit our store, and we will schedule an appointment accordingly. Feel free to contact us if you have any further questions or concerns.

Looking forward to seeing you soon and assisting you with your tailoring needs.

Best regards,

(Y/n) (L/n)'

I read over the email before hitting send. 'Wait, isn't Charlie his daughter?' I thought as I look back over his name. I press another reply button and put the the address, letting him know where he could meet me. Tossing my phone onto my bed, I walk out into the lobby again, sitting on the bar stool. "A shot of anything strong." I grumbled at Husk, he was cleaning a glass when he heard me. "What's the occasion?" He asked grabbing a shot glass before pouring some. "Work." I groan with my head on the bar, keeping my eyes shut, my headache gets worse with light.

"Ever thought of getting anything for those migraines?" Husk asked when he placed down the shot, I look up, grabbing the shot and downing it. "Another please. I've looked into it, but I don't need to, I'll just deal with it." Sighing as I push the shot towards Husk. He shakes his head as he pours another one, pushing it towards me. Taking the glass and downing it again.

I hear Charlie in the lobby talking to Vaggie about something, I turn to her. "Hey Charlie. Your dad is gonna come in a few days." I slur out, catching her attention she turned me wide eyed. "What?" She asked as she walked closer. "I'm tailoring a suit of his, I told him I need to take measurements cause he could have grown in the last year." I replied to her. "So he's coming to the hotel?" "Yeah, I think so." Replying to her she chuckled a but before pacing back and forth. "He's only gonna be in my room, just to get measured. He's one my highest paying customers." I chuckle, feeling the alcohol get to my system.

"He emailed me a few minutes ago about getting a suit tailored. I told him that I needed for take his measurements and then I would come up with the price." I explain to her. Charlie's pacing got faster, but she's stops when Vaggie puts her hand on her shoulder. "When would he be here?" Vaggie asked me and I shrugged.

"I can go see if he answered if you would like?" I got up from my seat, walking to my room. Opening my door, I walk to my bed, grabbing my phone. I look at the notifications, seeing a email. I walk out to the lobby, opening the email.

"Dear Ms. (L/n),

Thank you for your prompt response and for offering to assist with resizing my suit. I appreciate your attention to detail and professionalism in addressing my tailoring needs.

I will certainly bring the suit to your studio for a fitting session. I propose scheduling the appointment for this Friday afternoon around 2:00 PM. Please let me know if this time works for you, or if an alternative time would be more convenient.

I look forward to meeting with you and discussing the necessary alterations. Thank you once again for your assistance, and I am confident in your expertise to ensure a perfect fit for my suit.

Best regards,

Mr. Morningstar"

I read out loud. Charlie pauses and starts pacing again. "He can't come. We don't even know if this works. If he comes he'll know I failed." Charlie said lowly, Vaggie hugs her and kisses her cheek. "It'll be fine love." She said as she pulled away from the hug. Vaggie looked over at me and sighed. "He'll be here in two days, just make sure he is only here for that a not going anywhere else. Charlie isn't ready to face him at the moment." She said as she looked up at the clock to check the time.

I nod, I grab the shot glass and down the last one before walking to my room. Falling onto my bed, a breath left my lungs as I hit the bed. I turn over and pick up my phone, unlocking it and looking at the photo of the suit. Thinking for a second, it looks a lot like the dress. Looking between my phone and the dress on the lay figure, they would look together.

Standing up from my bed, I tiptoe to the sewing mannequin. I run my finger across it, looking back at the photo and then back at the dress. A light bulb lit up and I ran to my desk, grabbing safety pins. Taking out my sewing needles, turning on my machine, grabbing buttons. I pull the mannequin next to the desk, sketching out the idea in my head.

A bang woke me from my slumber, I jerk up and look around. Standing in my door way is AngleDust, he looks out of breath. "(Y/n)! My shirt is ruined!" He said as he walked closer with his torn shirt. I groan and put my head back on the desk. "You alright toots?" He asks as he puts his arm on my shoulder. "I'm fine, I finally figured out what was wrong with the dress, and I fixed it. There is a problem though, Lucifer is gonna be here tomorrow and he's kinda matching with his suit." A groan left my mouth, Angle walks over to dress. "It's gorgeous. I mean it's always been." He said as he looked over it.

Sighing as I felt my eyes closing. I stayed up all night working on it, adding new fabrics, adding the details. I felt myself falling asleep again as Angle looked over the dress.

My eyes slowly open, I groan as I sit up. "My back hurts like hell." Groaning as I stood up. It looked dark out, I must have slept all day. Walking out of my room into the lobby, the lights were still on so someone was awake. Yawning as I walk to the bar, my eyes saw Alastor, he was sitting on the couch as he read a newspaper. "Morning Al." I yawn as I pour myself something to drink.

His head perked up at my voice. "Morning, you know it's in the late afternoon right?" He asked as he placed his newspaper down.

"Yeah, I didn't sleep last night. So I slept all day." Yawning as I walk over to the couch, sitting next to Alastor. "Why didn't you sleep?" He asked as he sipped his drink. "Working on that dress." I groan. He hummed in response. I downed the rest of my drink before standing up. "Well Lucifer is coming over tomorrow, so I need to sleep. Night Al." "Oh goodnight (Y/n)." He grinned.

I step into my room, closing the door behind me. Sighing as I walk over to my bed, sitting on the edge before falling backwards. Grunting at the sudden stop, I throw my arm over my eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Waking up to my alarm, I groan. I slowly sit up and turn off my phone. I whimper as the sun hits my eyes, I have to get ready and clean up for the appointment. I pick up my phone reading the time, but I saw that I had a email.

'Dear Ms. (Y/n),

Hello, I hope this email finds you in good health. I wanted to make an appointment to have a meeting. I want some new clothes by your hand. If you have the time for a meeting please contact me.

Love,

Valentino <3'

I read over the email before putting my phone down. I really don't want to deal with him right now, I sighed as I went to my drawers. Pulling out some presentable clothes, then walking to my restroom to take a shower. I turn the knob letting the water start, after I pull my clothes off of me, letting it hit the floor. Pulling my undergarments off before sliding into the shower. The hot water hitting my skin and wetting every inch of my body.

I put shampoo in my hair and scrub it in, soap going down my body as I rinse my hair out. Grabbing the bottle for conditioner, letting my hair run under water. Pouring some into my hand before scrubbing it into my scalp. I let the conditioner soak, I wash my body before rinsing off everything. Turning off the water, I grab a towel and put it around my body.

Walking into my room, striding to my bed, where I put my clothes. Taking the towel and drying off my hair before dressing myself. After wards I look at the time, it read 12:47 pm. I sigh, I still have almost two hours before he gets here. I look around the room, seeing my room is a mess, knowing us have to clean it sooner or later.

Cleaning up my room, putting everything in place before he gets here and picking up trash and dirty laundry. I organized everything and I looked at the time, it was 1:36 pm. My eyes widen as I look at the time. "Shit he'll be here soon!" I yelled at myself and I got a new mannequin out for the suit, making sure I knew where everything I needs was. Keeping track of time, I brushed my hair and put on light makeup, so I didn't look like I was dying.

Getting myself mentally prepared to see the sin of pride. He was cocky everytime you saw him, not a bad cocky but like 'he knows he's hot and he's not afraid to show it off' cocky. The man was hot, I can't denie that.

I walk to the lobby waiting for the knock, not a second later I hear it. Walking to the door, slowly opening it to reveal Lucifer. "(Y/n), it's been to long." He grinned as walked in to the hotel, his eyes shifted all over the lobby. "We will be working in a room back here, just follow me." I say as I lead the way to my room. He gladly follows along behind me, still looking everywhere. We make it to my room and I close the door after he walks in.

"Now if you would please stand here." I ask him to stand on a X mark on the floor. He looked down and nods with a smile. "So how have you been (Y/n)? I haven't seen you in about a year." He asked as he gave me the suit. "Eh, tired. I have been working on a new dress over that year, I finally finished it the day before yesterday." I reply, setting the suit on the mannequin.

"Yeah? May I see it?" He asked as he looked around my room. I nodded and I walked into my other room, I have to rooms attached to each other for my bed room and my studio. Rolling the mannequin out, the jewels sparkled in the sun light.

"That is gorgeous." Lucifer said as he walked over, feeling the fabric. "It looks a little familiar." He said as he put his hand on his chin. His eyes caught on the suit and he gasped. "It's like a set! The dress and my suit." Lucifer stated as his eyes light up. I chuckled and nodded. "I noticed that when you sent me the photos."

"I would love to buy it." He said as he looked at it. I stopped in my tracks. "What?" I asked with a chuckle. "How much, I could gift it to my daughter." He stated as he started pulling out his wallet. "I'm not selling it right now. I actually made it for myself, kinda a dream dress." I chuckled nervously.

You could practly hear his face light up. "I've never seen you wear a dress." He said surprised. "Well yeah, I don't like wearing them." "You should put it on." He said. "No." I said flatly.

"Oh come on (Y/n). You even match with the king if hell, why not put it on?" He asked. "Lucifer, I need to start measurements, please stand where you were." I said with no tone. He was a persistent man. "Come on, I would love to see you in it." He purred out. "Lucifer arms up." I said with a measuring tape in my hands. "Come on." He whined out.

As he is begging me to put on the dress, I just ignore him and measure his body. As I measuring his bust to his groan there was blast and the hotel shaked. Causing Lucifer to tumble over and fall on me.

I closed my eyes at feeling of the rumbling, so I didn't know how close he was to me. "Well hello gorgeous." I hear Lucifer say, I open my eyes to see his face a few inches away from mine. "Oh you're wearing makeup, it looks good on you." He complemented me. "Lucifer get up." I say as I start pushing him. "I am darling." He chuckled. Standing up, he offered me a hand, which I gladly took.

"Well that didn't sound good." He stated as he dusted himself off, I nodded in agreement. "I actually finished measuring you, I would probably charge you about $230." I said as I looked over my notebook, adding the measurements. "Always straight to business. That's what I liked about you." He chuckled. Taking money from his wallet, handing it over to me, before I pull away he takes my hand, bringing it to his lips. Kissing my knuckles for a moment before pulling away. "Well I'll see myself out, and you should probably check what that sound was." Lucifer said as he started walking out of my room.

Watching him walk off, I felt the heat leave my face. When did that happen? When did my face get so hot? I asked myself, but just blew it off as me just getting hot. Placing down my money on the table, and I hear another bang. Groaning as more rubble falls down in my room. "Ughhh! What is that!?" I yelled out.

A/n: My first story on here and I plan to write more. Sorry if I update slow but I'll get around to doing it!

[ourautumn86]

(deeply in love with everything you write i swear)

would you like to write (when you're free and only if you want to!) about abby + fem volleyball player!reader?

reader "best friend" abby couldn't make it to see her important game + she lost and the whole team got mad at her </3 when she's getting ready to go home- abby runs to in the changing rooms, after all that arguing abby is making her hump her thigh, reader's tongue sticking out like a good dog, abby watching her drool all over herself..

lost match, won love

abby anderson x fem! volleyball player reader!

cw; +18 content!!, cursing, arguing, fighting, hair pulling, harsh make out, thigh riding, reader being mean and more!! minors dni!!!

“come on! are you serious?! it was right in front of you! can’t you move?!” your teammate screamed at you when the other team scored a new point. you were down 5, and it was really getting to you.

you were distracted, trying your best on this really important match that would take you to the finals, but you couldn’t ignore her absence. abby had promised you that she’d be here for you. she’d promised. and yet she wasn’t.

you had though that maybe she was running late, but now, in the second set, losing 1 to 0 and 5 points away from losing, you were sure she wouldn’t make it. you were tired, your coach had made you play non-stop, and the anxiety of it all was getting to you, tears pricking your eyes.

“sorry!” you apologized, trying to ignore the multiple dead states that your teammates sent you. you took a deep breath. your whole body was aching, your legs burning. you were falling apart and abby wasn’t there to catch you, to hold you.

it didn’t take long before the match was finished. 2-0. your heart was broken.

you were the last one to shower, the last one in the changing rooms, breathing in the solitude of the freezing room. your hair was drenched wet, and your body was warm due to the recent shower. your eyes were pricking with tears, slowly rolling down your cheeks when the door shot open.

and there she was. with her silky blonde hair down and haunting blue eyes. beautiful flowers on hand. her chest was heaving up and down quickly.

“princess…”

“no.” you cut her off. angry. you were so fucking pissed. your blood was boiling up.

“i’m sorry.” you scoffed at her.

“you’re sorry?” you inquired, incredulous, as you got closer to her. she didn’t answer, staring into your eyes. “you’re sorry?!” “you promised! you promised you’d be here. i lost. everyone gave me shit for it! and you weren’t there!!!” you pushed on her chest, and she took your hands. “i needed you! and now you’re telling me that you are sorry?! and what is this?” you took the flowers out of her hand. “flowers? as if that’ll make me feel better, huh?” you threw them to the floor. “fuck you, abby.” next thing you knew, your back was being pressed against the lockers, one of her hands cupping your jaw.

“watch your mouth.” she was the one angry now. she had ran late after getting all the way out town to your favorite flower shop to get you flowers and the beautiful necklace she had bought you for this day. it was supposed to go beautifully. she’d get here on time. watch you win. and then, finally get you alone and tell you how much she loved you not only as a best friend. but now. after getting stuck in traffic and messed it all up, she had to deal with your bratty attitude. and abby didn’t like brats. she grunted when you pulled from her hair, and she pushed you further against the lockers.

“fucking dick.” you muttered.

“fucking brat.” she answered.

you two stared at each other. your eyes moved from her blue angry eyes to the frown in between her eyebrows, to the little freckles on her nose and cheeks, the scar on her left, her sharp tight jaw, her rosy full lips… and before you knew it you were tasting them. you didn’t know who had made the first move, who had pulled first. but now that her tongue was inside your mouth, you suddenly didn’t want to argue anymore.

you moaned, and she grunted, hungrily kissing you, the hand on her jaw falling to her neck, making you hum.

“abby.” you sighed when her free hand grabbed your hip, pushing you harder against her. your back was arched, tits pressed against her chest and arms now around her neck.

“oh, so it’s abby now? you change your manners as soon as you get what you want, huh?” she smirked, taunting you, her free hand squeezing your ass. you moaned.

“fuck you.” you whimpered and she let out a low chuckle.

“i’m on it.”

next thing you knew you were back on the bench, this time on top of abby. one of her thick muscular thighs in between your trembling legs. you whined when she shook it, making you jump on it, your clit catching against your underwear.

“yeah? feels good when you hump my leg?” you nodded, starting to move your hips against her thigh, chasing that high once again, the brush of your clit against your panties, which were now completely soaked. she always had this effect on you. “i bet it does. look at you. so desperate…” her hands grabbed your hips to help you, and you moaned. “that’s it. fuck my thigh baby, ruin those panties for me.” her lips were on your neck, kissing bruises that only turned you on more.

“oh fuck, abby…” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your mouth falling open in high pitched needy moans that had her chucking. she thanked god everyone had already gone home, ‘cause she would kill anyone who got to see you like this.

“you’re so fucking hot.” she groaned, your nails digging on her shoulders when she pushed her tongue inside your mouth. she kissed you hungrily, her fingers gripping your hips so hard you’d probably be left with marks. but you couldn’t care less. spit was dribbling down your chin at the messiness of it all. and you were getting close. “open up.” she ordered, and like in a haze, you followed. “tongue out.” you hummed when two of her fingers tapped your chin, and you let your tongue leave your mouth, resting against your bottom lip, perfectly open for her to push them inside, making you gag. “atta girl. just a little bit deeper…” you let her fuck your throat open with her fingers, moans being muffled. she noticed how your hips were starting to falter. “you gonna cum? gonna soak your panties all up for me, princess?” you nodded, feeling your orgasm warm on your lower stomach. “then go ahead. give me a big one and i’ll eat you clean.” her filthy words and promise brought you to the edge, a whimper leaving your lips as she helped you ride it out on her thigh. her eyes never looked away from your angelic expression. it was much better than she had imagined. now she wanted to see it over and over and over again.

when you finally came down from it, she pulled her fingers out of your mouth to kiss you, and you hummed.

“so… do you forgive me?” she smirked, and you rolled your eyes, giving her a soft punch on the shoulder.

-

a/n: I JUST GOT A CAT. i called him salem. <3

[charlesf1leclerc]

Summary- one day your whole world turns upside down and where will your lives go from here 

Warnings: childbirth, teen pregnancy 

A/N- this is inspired by the stab series bump. Not exactly the same but wanted to give a nod to my inspiration. Also I’m so inspired right now ahh!

Today started as a regular school day, I woke up , placed my uniform on , packed my lunch and left. Another day , final year, then I'm free , no more highschool. I worked hard, I got good grades , I had a small group of friends , my life is organized , put together and I know where I'm going. 

I walked down the sidewalk, down my usual route. Today we had an oral presentation. 25% of our final grade , I knew my points were thought out , I was prepared , I got this, I had no nerves. A cramping sensation fills my stomach again. This had been happening since I woke up sporadically, it would come and go for a few seconds but now they were getting further apart and more painful. I warped my hands around my lower body, the pain went away and I kept walking. Upon entering the gates , my ears were filled with the noise of highschool students like every morning. Girls gossiping, boys …. Being boys. The pain had gotten slightly worse on my way over , but again came and went. 

An arm wrapped around my shoulder. 

“ Morning girl” Madison enthused

“ Morning” 

“ Stop being so uptight you are going to smash this “ She nudged me 

“ I’m not , I just don’t feel well ok “ I shrugged back 

“ don’t tell me your nervous “ Mad’s smirked

“ no of course not” I shot back 

Maybe it was nerves, but I never get nervous , something was up. 

As I walked further to my locker the pain came back, it was like hell. I felt like I was going to die. This was not normal. The pain hit me so hard, I began to feel dizzy and then something built up in my throat. 

My locker door slammed closed and I ran to the nearest bathroom leaving Maddie and my locker very confused. 

Upon reaching the girls bathroom I ran into the nearest stall and slammed the door closed, kneeling down by the bowl and pouring out the vomit that rose from my throat. Something was wrong. The pain was intense, the vomit. This was not nerves.  

“ Y/N!” Madison yelled, hearing her footsteps come into the bathroom. 

I didn't reply. Vomiting again

“ I’m really worried, are you ok? “ 

I couldn’t reply so I left her un answered

“ I’m going to get someone!” 

That was best , I ‘m scared , this feels like death , something was not ok. 

Within moments a teacher had also entered the bathroom. Crawling under the bathroom stall door to get to me and seeing my state. 

Paramedics were called and before I knew it I was whisked away into the back of a ambulance, displayed to the whole school, I would be embarrassed later but right now I couldn’t take on anymore. 

Sweat dripped from my forehead and the pain was unbearable as we drove down the road. 

The paramedics tended to me , feeling my stomach, attached to wires. 

“ Ok y/n your baby is coming now im going to need you to push” He spoke 

Baby? Baby! BABY!

I was not pregnant. This was a mistake, people know when they are pregnant , I did and don’t know that I am pregnant , well was in a few moments time if a baby comes out. 

“ No I'm , I'm not having a baby!” 

“ I assure you , you are.. Did you not know?” he inquired 

“NO!” 

Did this seem like a person who knew they were having a baby, I don’t even look pregnant how can  a baby fit in there. 

“ you’re going to have to push anyway don’t focus on anything else” 

The pain was unbearable. He cut at the bottom of my skirt , to allow access and I pushed. I didn’t think I just did. 

Hours later 

“ A baby” my mum spoke from beside my bed in the hospital looking at the tiny creature next to me. “ Why didn’t you tell me y/n/n”

“ I didn’t know” I spoke emotionless

She sighed and looked away towards the door as the nurse walked in. 

‘ Everything looks good on both of your charts” she spoke chipley. “ Y/n there is some counseling we recommend to women who had a cryptic pregnancy, and to people of your age” 

I rolled my eyes and my mum took the paper. 

“ Thank you” my mum spoke up and the nurse left the room 

“ I don't want it” I looked to my mum

“ counseling would be good sweetie” 

“ No i don’t want the baby” 

My mum sighed “ Babies can be wonderful she may teach you some things, and shouldn’t this be a conversation we have with the father and his family first” 

“ I can’t raise a baby, I won’t “ 

And i didnt even want to start on the father talk I couldn’t think about that 

“ Who is the father? “ my mum asked

“ I don’t know” i bluntly replied

She wasn’t convinced but let me be for now. 

It later came that adoption can not happen until 30 days after the birth as the mother is not in a state to decide properly. 

“ 30 days , we have to take her home for 30 days!” I squeaked

“You can last sweetie get time to bond to see if this is what you really want” She smiled looking at the baby again, easy for her to say. I’m 17 and I can't raise a baby. 

How did I get here….

Dad Pov

It was just another day at school. My life was boring, karting, school back home with my siblings, dad and stepmom and repeat. At school I had it all but in life I had nothing. I wasn’t sure about where I was going to go after school, I didn’t even really want to continue school. 

It was currently later in the afternoon. I was sitting on the bench at lunch time as I waited for the others to join me. 

Lost in my thoughts. Leo came over and slammed himself down on the top of the table next to me snapping me out of my head.

“Sup,dude” we fist bumped my head still remaining straight ahead.

“You hear about that y/n girl?” He asked looking at me.

Y/n the one person I was not into talking about today. I had seen her being taken away in an ambulance today but had not yet heard what really went down.

“ yeah , crazy “ I mumbled 

“ yeah apparently she had a baby” 

What everything faded had I just heard him right

“ what?” I snapped to look at him

“ yeah  she hid it pretty well , she didn’t even know apparently” he nodded placing his food in his mouth.

She didn’t even look pregnant, how could she not of known. 

“ Wonder who the father is? You think it’s someone from here?” He intriguingly asked

I was just as curious, my hands began to sweat, surely one night could not have caused all this. It can’t be me!

A/N- ahhhh stay tuned and also vote on who you want the father to be 😉