No Cause That Scene With Kaz And Inej Had Me Watching With My Jaw Open!! Giggling Nd Kicking My Feet.

Chicken Shop Date

By @imagine-that-100​ and @alovesreading​

Description: Matty Healy x Reader (Female) | You and your best friend Amelia came up with a very simple idea of taking celebrities on awkward chicken shop dates, and somehow, it’s managed to become both of your jobs. In the past, you’ve found sitting across from some of the biggest stars on the planet and eating chicken nuggets easy. But then Amelia manages to score you a date with the man who you’ve been obsessed with since you were nineteen; Matty Healy.

Word Count: 18.3k

A/N: Okay so, Matty’s chicken shop date really had me and @alovesreading​ spiralling so we decided to make an even better version of the date. This will more than likely be 2 parts and the second part will be posted on A’s account so make sure you’re all following. We wrote this in like 53 hours and we’re super proud of it. We hope you enjoy it as much as we do, and we can’t wait to see what you think. Enjoy and thanks for reading x

| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |

Going on chicken shop dates with your favourite celebrities at one point in your life seemed like something entirely plucked from yours and your best friend’s imaginations. You guess that is all it was at one point, but you never for a second imagined it would become your job.

It’s a stupid, fun idea that you and your best friend Amelia ran with and now you’ve gone on ‘dates’ with some of the biggest stars on the planet. It was beyond your wildest dreams and it’s opened up so many opportunities for the both of you that somehow, you’re now both invited to big events that these stars also attend.

You and Amelia were both at the NME awards earlier this year, surrounded by musical legends that the both of you knew you needed to try and ask on your ‘dates’. The amount of award shows the both of you were asked to host their red-carpet shows were also insane to the both of you.

The imposter syndrome really kicks in for the both of you when you’re at these events but you both remind yourselves to use your fake confidence that you use on your ‘dates’ and it somehow gets you through. But you wouldn’t ever take for granted the opportunities the both of you were getting now.

Keep reading

The Serpent and The Jaguar

Pairing: Namor x F!Reader

Summary: "All the beautiful flowers you've brought me and you put a dying one in my hair?" you mutter, confused. "What is the meaning of this?"

Warning: Public sex, rough sex

There's a bathhouse in the capital of Jabari Land, just on the outskirts of Gorilla City, the perfect therapeutic recreation to soothe tension after suffering the company of colonizers.

Your father had insisted on you joining him for an informal diplomatic conference in Italy over the weekend. Your two older siblings in line for the throne could've gone but he'd been adamant about you getting some experience under your belt. Overall, the trip could be summarized as boring. Long, drawn out conversations focusing on resources and trade that had always circled back to Wakanda's vibranium.

To make matters worse, another tedious sounding meeting in Golden City had been called the second the two of you arrived back home. You had slipped away, however, as the spirited and loudmouthed Elder M'Baku held your father's attention. The only person you wished to see likely not attending.

The former king and leader of the Jabari Tribe had been mentioning something about his city's bathhouse which put the idea in your mind to visit in the first place. It's been a while since you've visited Jabari Land; impossible to believe that such a beautiful place had been isolated from the rest of the country at one point.

The city's bathhouse is structured to resemble the smooth and cascading weathered boulders on the snowy mountains. Smaller huts can be seen in the distance, the steam baths used for individual medicinal purposes, healing sicknesses and couples trying for a child. Life-giving heat.

The bathhouse itself provides both indoor and outdoor facilities as well as public and private rooms offering a long list of amenities. Torches light the winding corridors, flickering on intricately designed rock carvings of the Jabari Tribe's glorious Hanuman. But the colors and markings of all five tribes fill the space, their warm laughter and chatter expressing eagerness for saunas and mud baths, luxuries that makes journeying to this cold, rough terrain worth it.

The staff have already prepared your favorite private room, appropriately named The Blackberry for the dark wood's sweet aroma and its deep, oval shaped tub made of the same material. A wooden torch pedestal stands in each corner. There's a few built in shelves, some stacked with smoking incense. Everything about the room was designed to maximize the tub which is filled to the brim with water, the steam rolling off in waves warming your chilled skin.

You undress and head for the adjoining closet sized space in the room to shower and scrub before you soak. While you're cleansing you hear the main room's door slam shut. Frowning, you distinctly recall informing the staff that you don't wish to be disturbed. Grabbing your robe from its hook and slipping it on, you step back out into the main room.

It's in an incredibly different state than the way you left it behind mere minutes ago.

The Blackberry is now completely filled with dozens of bouquets. They're on the towel and bottle lined shelves, surrounding the ground-level tub all the way to the door, flowers are even placed atop the birch logs suspending from the ceiling on hemp rope. Orchids and water lilies and marigolds. And these flowers shine in gorgeous yellows and oranges and reds, resembling the rising sun, contrasting pleasantly with the room's smooth blackwood.

The mutant god Namor of Talokan stands in the center of it all.

Technically, he's hovering with the aid of his buzzing wings. He's carefully arranging a handful of marigolds on one of the logs when he glances down at you. He's dressed in his usual attire. A gold and turquoise pectoral shaped into double headed serpents, his neck is adorned with pearls, ears and nose pierced with jade. And he's wearing those damned form fitting green trunks.

You've frozen up in surprise and stunned silence. A rush of emotions flood through you, the most palpable one pounding artlessly yet with pure sincerity at your heart like a child's first drum.

"You're here," you say with a gasp.

"At last, my favorite flower has come to join me," he practically purrs, a grin stretching across his face as he descends. "Princess." He reclines his head in a slight bow.

"K'uk'ulkan," you greet back with a fond smile, his name soft and sweet on your tongue. You've missed him and it's obvious the feeling was more than reciprocated. Time has not been kind, the both of you having been caught up in royal duties and responsibilities lately, it feels like ages to you. How long must it feel to him?

Kneeling down, you scoop up a bouquet and bury your nose in the flowers, inhaling deeply. "This is lovely," you murmur with burning cheeks, your eyes flitting to and away from his. "Thank you."

If you look at him right this second for too long you don't know what your eyes might tell him. Of course, he brought you flowers in typical Namor-like fashion. He brought you an entire garden's worth. He'd once told you that flowers reminded him of his mother who often mourned her gardens after being forced to leave her home. In his opinion, flowers are one of the few worthwhile offerings the surface world contains.

Namor doesn't reply, he doesn't have to, the heat in his gaze says enough.

He was intimidating as Bast sometimes. Not on purpose. Not towards you. Ever. He can't help the unsettling quietness in his movements, the burning eyes that tell a tale older than anyone he shares a room with, the heavy weariness his words could take on sometimes when it's just the two of you.

There's a playfulness to him as well.

"I brought the sun to my people, and now I bring it to you on this night," he says, pleased with himself.

You laugh. But touching as this gesture is, Namor is behaving very boldly. He could've seen you stark naked sneaking into your privately booked room like this. You suppose that's why such noise was made to alert you to his presence. He isn't anything like your former suitors, all promising young men of Wakanda from noble families, who you're certain Namor's scared off the moment he'd decided to tie your life to his.

And Namor's made it no secret that he's deadset on making you his.

It isn't merely for strengthening the alliance between Wakanda and Talokan. Or that you are a mutant with control over the earth, born from a mutant mother who commands the sky, and that an heir from you and the ruler of Talokan who controls the seas could likely take on anything in the world. This isn't strictly strategy and politics for him. Not when he goes about it with a naked vulnerability and lack of decorum with his words and actions.

You haven't exactly been acting with the dignity your station requires either. Sneaking off with him around Wakanda in the night when he visits, showing him the beauty of your land, off the beaten paths and sights untouched by human progress. Riding on the backs of whales, entwined in his arms as he dances with you above the Atlantic ocean.

"You know you shouldn't be here, it isn't appropriate," you warn with a tilt of your chin, and all the haughty regalness you normally love to poke fun at.

You have to admit every now and then that it's a bit exhilarating toying with a man revered as a god, whenever it was certain you could get away with it.

Namor smirks. Unconcerned. "You only have to say the word and I'll go."

And you don't.

Instead, you glimpse down at the tub he's blanketed with Lily of the Nile. Blue, purple, and white petals float atop the steaming, milky hot water. An expert you are not–especially in comparison to Namor–but you know this flower in particular is an...interesting choice. Feminine energy and rebirth and symbolic of the sun. The sudden flash of heat overcoming you has nothing to do with the room's temperature.

"Is that allowed?" you ask, unable to smother the meek amusement in your tone.

He laughs arrogantly. "I am Wakanda's honored guest, of course it is." It probably also helps that he's been friends with Elder M'Baku for nearly half a century.

Namor prowls around the tub, careful not to crush the flowers beneath him as he nears you.

Your fingers curl into the fluffy robe you're wearing and he takes the bouquet cradled in your arm, he turns away as you disrobe.

You slip into the tub with a contented hum, the dull sting of hot water instantly rewarding as you lower yourself in, limbs loosening and muscles relaxing. The water wraps around your shoulders like the finest silk sheet. The lilies kiss at your throat, and as you pull them below the surface as you wade backwards they glide over your stomach and thighs over your stomach and thighs.

Sighing, your eyes drift shut for one blissful moment before landing on Namor again as you rest your head against the tub's rim.

"This bathhouse is a sight for beauty, I can see why you favor it," Namor says, his eyes roaming above the domed wall before dropping to the swell of your breasts. "It reminds me of a temazcal."

He sits across from you, lowering his legs into the water. His strong, thick thighs and the bulge between them an eyeful unlike anything you've seen before.

"Does it?" you reply in a low rasp, licking your lips. You swim towards him, your fingers curling around his knee as an anchor. "You know...I wasn't made aware you would be here in my country today. It was me who should've been prepared with a gift."

"Your will is my gift," Namor says, bending down to caress your cheek. "To be here as long as you wish."

He must think you're a fool. Namor only plays by his rules. When a situation fails to satisfy him he'll find a way to bend it to his advantage eventually. You can tell him to leave right now and he will, but he'll come back the next day twice as determined.

You laugh giddily and distance yourself as much as you're able to, your feet brushing along the tub's edge. Oh, does that wipe the smile off his face. Amazing how impatient a five hundred year old can be.

"Would you like some company, princess?" he asks, staring at you as if he's thinking of all the ways he can plunder your heart and soul while leave nothing behind.

You forget yourself as it is so easy to do with him, losing all of your royal training and normally coolheaded instincts as you sputter out, "sure."

Namor chuckles gamely. Doesn't bother to remove anything as he dips into the bath with practiced grace. Before you can ask what's going through his mind he's slipping underneath the water and out of sight causing barely a stir.

A thrilling sort of panic has you grinning in anticipation. You gently push away from your position, intensely focusing on the murky water as you bend your legs to you curl into yourself. Pulse thrumming under your skin fast as his wings.

You're starting to grasp just how large and deep this tub is (it could easily fit at least ten people) when fingers slide up your calves. You squeak, jolting at the sensation and end up splashing water on your face as you flail and attempt to squirm out of his tightening grip, erupting into uncontrollable giggling.

"K'uk'ulkan," you call out, half whining and half exasperated. You then wince, remembering where you are and most importantly who you are.

You reach an arm into the water and feel his inky, soft hair swaying between your knees. The unmistakable pressure of his lips kissing up your calf to your thigh nearly drowns you then and there, a whimper catching in your throat. Gasping, you secure a grip to the back of his head before you find yourself sinking.

Namor emerges, sharp teeth and twinkling eyes, laughing boisterously.

You swat at his chest as your own heaves. Heat pools low in your belly at his closeness. And then your hand simply stays there, your other hand still running through his hair. He paws at your waist, pulling you closer and bends down–

You lower your head, resting it on his chest.

"Tell me what is troubling you?" he demands in a sweet, coaxing rumble. He wraps his arms around you more firmly, his nose nuzzles at your temple and he whispers in your ear. "I think we both know you're stalling what is inevitable, my little jaguar flower."

"You know...flowers don't last long once you've picked them," you solemnly explain, muffled into his skin. Nevertheless, you continue slowly stroking his hair and press your cheek onto his chest. "Perhaps we should consider that before we move any further, Namor."

"You don't need to worry about that."

"It is entirely selfish on my part, I assure you," you tell him, laughing humorlessly. "I can't bear the thought that when I'm gone I will have to live a life without you in the ancestral realm without ever seeing you again."

Namor assesses you with half-lidded eyes, his anger more stifling than the room's heat. He moves you both to the edge, reaches behind you and presents a wilting water lily.

You frown. It's the only flower in the room that isn't bright and lively. He tucks it behind your ear, the stem limp and petals bruised.

"You will not." He sounds as if it's already true. Written and recorded on his codice, you and him, a long and happy life rather than the blink of an eye that lays ahead if you continue this.

"All the beautiful flowers you've brought me and you put a dying one in my hair?" you mutter, confused. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I'll make sure death will never touch you so long as I breathe."

He leans forward to kiss you now, his fingers marking your waist.

"I will make it true," he hisses like the feathered serpent he is between your lips. "You only have to believe my word, little jaguar." As you stare up at him speechless and in shock he continues. "If I can bring life back to this water lily will you put your faith in me then?"

"How are you going to do that?" You swallow hard as his hands skim down to palm and squeeze your ass, pushing your lower half to him. "It isn't within his power," you tell him, breath hitching. "Only mine."

"You doubt your king, little flower?"

Namor's hand presses on your lower back, maneuvering you as he switches your positions so he's reclining back until he has you above his lap. You encircle your arms around him, eyes wide and watery.

He presses a kiss to your neck as his fingers leisurely stroke your pussy. "And you address me as Namor," he admonishes you, his voice rough and passionate. "Never do that again, unless you are begging for my mercy. After you dare to doubt me."

Your breath hitches and you nuzzle your damp cheek to his in apology. "Yes," you breathe out in agreement, gnawing on your bottom lip as he angles his finger, slipping it between the folds of your pussy. "My love. My K'uk'ulkan."

He groans and plants kisses down your neck, murmurs that it's okay even though you know it isn't. He brushes his fingers up your mound, applying pressure around your clit as he starts rubbing in tight, little circles to stimulate the little bud. You cling to him, grinding in tandem to the his slow, firm pace he's set.

You stop a few times as your body wracks with shivers, your breathing a mess, but Namor keeps rubbing you off as the heat of the bath and your arousal scorches you.

Finally, finally Namor pushes a finger inside your slippery walls. He groans and lets out puffs of air that cools your overheated skin as you clench around him.

You whimper, capturing your wobbling bottom lip in your teeth. Already so desperate and aching for his touch. Even under the cover of the cloudy water you feel completely exposed and adrift in pleasure, his ornaments budge and scrape against your buoyant body, the heat of the water enhancing the sensitivity of your skin.

Water soaks your scalp and he chuckles as your eyes flutter open, not even aware that you've closed them. You're not scared of giving your trust over to him, safe in his hands in his element, but you're surprised at how quickly you've lost yourself in his touch.

Namor's fingers clamp around your nape and he pulls you back up, keeps your throat bared to kiss and suck and nip at his leisure. His fingers don't stop moving, rubbing and circling around your clit, stroking your lips like his tongue tracing the seams of your mouth. Your hand on his shoulder tightens as you cover the one between your legs, pumping your hips frantically as you whine for more.

You curse him, back arching, the cold air sudden and biting at your breasts and hardening your nipples. His hot, wet mouth latches onto your chest and his arm tightens like a vice around your waist as you write and moan.

Your plush walls spasm with every unforgivingly rapid thrust of his fingers, the heel of his palm rolling against your clit. Your body twitches with every jolt of pleasure rippling out of you like air bubbles swiftly stealing your breath.

Namor sings his praises under his breath that you're too blissed out to bother translating. Your weightless and floating, tethered only to him and his thick fingers, the connection growing tighter as you're ready to snap.

Namor drags you down into the water as you come, his lips sealed to yours as you cry out and spasm in his arms.

He twists you around to face him, hitching your legs around him and you're not sure what's happening until you're on your back, staring at the flower padded logs hanging from the ceiling. Namor kisses you all over your face, murmuring "ocēlōxōchitl" as he drinks in the water droplets from your skin until you're laughing softly.

He huffs eagerly above you as he works removing his belt ornament and trunks. He smiles down at you with lust and affection, water sliding down his nose onto your face.

He pushes inside you, watches as your tender lips kiss the crown of his head. An icy chill settles over you making you tremble. Namor curves a hand under your back and bears more of his weight down in you, both groaning as your pussy flexes around his throbbing cock sinking into you. That's when a chill starts to really register on your skin and your body trembles. Until you're snug and he's buried to the hilt.

If the staff and customers of the bathhouse hadn't heard you before they surely do now, moaning as you shift underneath him. Namor swivels his hips, cock twitching, and you accommodate every rigid bump of him nudging against you. When you press your palm to your mouth he pushes it away just as soon, tangling his fingers between yours.

He takes his time. Rolls his hips to push deep inside you. He kisses you, mouth clinging to yours when he breaks apart. It's close to unbearable, another slow climb towards pleasure that keeps you teetering on the brink, so close but never quite enough to push you over. A steady rhythm your breathing can't seem to match.

Bodies slick with water and sweat, skin hot and cold, sticky from the steam and the cum sliding down your thighs. You dig your nails into his back and he snaps his hips with a guttural groan, the rough thrust pitching you upwards.

"Please, please..." you whimper, beads of tears forming in the corner of your eyes. "Namor, please."

Namor quickens his pace, burying his head into your shoulder as he fucks you like you're impervious to breaking.

"You can take it, can't you?" he tells you between his strained, heavy breathing and moans. "That's why you're mine."

You whimper, nodding, words escape you. Namor's cock stretches your tensing passage, he slows for a moment and moans low and deep. Your nails claw down his back and he hooks an arm underneath your thigh.

The friction rubs at you in a new way and you cry out. Yes. Right there. Namor drops his head to yours, his eyes ablaze and possessive, thrusts becoming sharp as your own relents to him with lewd, wet slaps.

All it takes is his rough thumb flicking at your clit and his face pressed to the soft flesh of your neck, his teeth grazing you. You press yourself to him and everything comes to a standstill, your body becoming rigid as an intense orgasm ripples through you. Your vision turns white as you succumb to the throbbing pulses of intense euphoria drowning you.

He writhes above you, hips stuttering, his mouth dropping open as exhales your name in a broken whisper. He moans and the sound sings down to your bones as he jerks his hips, spilling his warm cum in you.

You turn to trail kisses up his cheekbone, panting, you gently press your lips to his pointy ear and Namor makes a deep, rumbling noise.

The iciness of the earth melts from your skin and warmth settles in you. Your flower has bloomed. The white petals of the dying water lily has come back to life and in your line of vision, tickling your skin as it lifts and opens wide.

"There it is," Namor grunts, satisfied as he tenderly plucks the flower from behind your ear. Delicate but strong. A blazing yellow bud bleeding pink into the white petals. "See? Do you believe me now?" he says, rather smugly, beaming. "I told you I could do it, it's life has been prolonged."

You roll your eyes, laughing. "Hold on, I'm pretty sure I did that."

He pouts. "Not on your own, my love."

You hum, sated and exhausted. "That is true," you admit, smiling. When had you willed your powers over the small lily? When your emotions got out of control they could be strong enough to affect the earth and plant life around you without any conscious effort. "I see you are very persuasive."

"And together we can do anything," he says in a fierce whisper, serious now.

Your smile widens and you cradle his face in your hands. "Yes, my love, I believe you."

Could I get prompt 14 with Osferth pretty please

Osferth x Reader

Prompt 14. "Would you like me to whisper it in your ear?"

Thank you to the other people who also requested this. I had a lot of fun writing it

"I knew we shouldn't have left so late" Osferth's voice was horse as you slung off your bow and arrow, dropping it by the door of the Inn you'd found halfway between Rumcofa and Eoforwic.

Uhtred had sent you to meet with his daughter before the winter snow closed travel and for some reason he'd sent Osferth with you. Your relationship was strange to say the least. It began with you as the teasing dane from the North who took every chance to make Osferth's cheeks grow red. Then one day he turned it on you. Suddenly he knew how to hold a sword and talk back. He would meet your remarks with something as easily flirty, presuming he picked it up from Finan. There was a tension between you and yet neither of you had quite as much bravery to cross that line.

Osferth shut the door behind you. He had wanted to leave Eoforwic earlier in the day to miss the winter storm but you'd insisted snow wouldn't fall for a other few days.

You hated to admit you were wrong but the damp of snow sodden clothes and freezing fingers begged to differ.

"There were no snow clouds when we left"

"And yet the skies opened on us didn't they"

You both had your backs turned until you heard Osferth groan. Looking back, you did the same when you looked over your shoulder.

One bed.

Your stomach flipped. Osferth cleared his throat.

Trying to ignore the feeling, you started to peel off your outerwear. Osferth reached for your cloak as you did and the rhythm you fell so often in began unfolding. You handed your cloak, he gave you his weapons. You noted the click of metal unlatching and dared not to turn as the man behind you took off his fighting leathers and sword.

After a while the Inn keeper brought you both soup and you sat in silence on the bed, sipping quietly. It was killing you.

"You're mad?" You broke the quiet.

He didn't look your way, sat on the bed in his trousers and a loose white shirt.

"I'm not"

Neither of you were convinced.

"Is it not a sin to lie?"

He raised a brow at you.

"I'm sure I'll repent in time"

As the night grew dark, you slid under the covers. You weren't one to talk so often but his cold shoulder was killing you and as he wondered the room, repositioning your drying clothes by the fire, you sat up in your bed.

"If I apologise will you speak to me?"

"I have spoken to you"

He got under the covers beside you rolling over to face away, the orange glow for the fire wrapping you in warmth.

"Properly I mean"

You rolled your eyes as you remained sitting, the blankets at your waist.

"I'm sorry okay"

He didn't respond. You huffed.

"Osferth?"

More silence.

"I'm sorry for not listening to you and getting us caught in that storm"

He hummed. It wasn't good enough for you.

"What more do you want?"

He rolled over to face you, eyes still closed and face emotionless.

"Would you like me to whisper it in your ear?"

You took the step and lent over him, your lips hovering over his ear as you spoke.

"I'm sorry. You were right"

He tilted his head, his lips inches from yours.

"Do you forgive me?"

"I-"

You rose your hand and ran your fingers through his hair. His eyes shut as you did.

"Baby monk?"

As if a spark had been lit within him, his hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled your hand out from his hair. With a force you weren't expecting he flipped you over, pinning your arm above your head into the pillow as he straddled you. Osferth looked down from above you and lent in. You raised your chin as he did, trying not to to appear as phased as you were.

"You don't call me that"

You struggled but he was stronger than you anticipated, grabbing your other hand when you reached for him. He swapped both your wrists into one hand as he balanced himself with his other, leaning down.

"Finan can call me that. You cannot"

You lent up as much as you could.

"And why not?"

He smirked. "You know why"

Osferth was good at fighting, Uhtred and his men teaching him well over the years. But you were a dane and had be born kicking and clawing. With a huff of energy you managed to shift your weight and pull him under, hands on his chest as you sat back on him. Somewhere along the way his hands had found your hips, holding you still.

"What now?"

It felt like a shift had begun. A new layer of the game you played had been revealed as you moved your mark forward, testing his limits.

"Now you're going to kiss me"

It wasn't a question but you responded. Your lips met his in a fury while his hands capture your waist, holding you down against him. The years worth of teasing, of testing his patients finally flooding down on you as he kissed your lips.

Despite the cold chill your body had only just escaped, it was a welcome cool down when Oseferth finally slid your shirt off your back and let his hands map your body.

You smiled knowing Uhtred would pin your sleepless appearance on the challenging wit of his daughters tongue the next day. However you didn't consider, Osferth's company on your mission that of the last piece of Uhtreds plan for you to finally confess your attraction.

(My) Nuisance Mini Series

Hobie Brown x Reader

Synopsis: You’ve been Hobies neighbor for around a year and you absolutely despise him. His stupid hair, stupid clothes, stupid music, and stupid boots. What happens when you find out he’s the one behind your favorite superhero’s mask?

Things to know! • Reader is obsessed with spiderman. Like totally in love with spiderman. • I use Spiderman and Spider-punk interchangeably (they’re both hobie) • A flat is an apartment in Britain • Reader uses british slang but isn’t necessarily british

a/n: so many people wanted this to be a mini series and i’m finally doing it!! idk how long this will be but i’ll post short installments for a while. Some will relate to others and some will be one parters.

Parts! -

One. (My) Nuisance

Two. Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you

Three. Drunk words are sober thoughts

Last update: June 12th 23

Stay Tuned for more!

Taglist: @clown420cunt @good-so @anonima-2 @gh0st-spider @miracleboylene @natthernandez @frenchbaddie @loislucky @juo6uvr @gaychaosgremlin @skiedrr @the-golden-goldie @hellok1ttycake @theleftkittycollection @xbl00dy-r0s3x @diamondroxypie @erensbbg @change-up-lozers @persondoingstuff @thepjofanqueen @eli-pitch-does-art @naarra @pascaliscult @regulus-black-223048 @couchpotato2006 @anonoussy @bruhhvv @miyalou13 @meowmeowmau @michael-21stfu @yeyrpp2 @panicosis @yuli3tt @omgitstatertot @bythe-water-fountain @llstarx @lqndrys @yn-hamato @fisshil @peaktora @thatmaladaptivedaydreamer @urmotherswhor3 @hunniiebe @ashjustlikesthings @imthesadsad @spiderpunkzgf @single2dsimp @anonymousfleshbag @aesolane @gloomdoomraccoon @nightshxdex @kenstan

If you want to be apart of the taglist just comment!!

BETTER THAN MEAT

Sumarry: Luffy discovers that his favorite smell is no longer the smell of meat.

OPLA!Luffy X Reader

Warnings: I think none, I just hope it gives you butterflies in your stomach lol

N/A: You asked me for this so much and here it is, it's horrible, but it's a good start.

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"Where's Y/n, Nami?" Luffy says while Nami is still looking at the clothes.

"She's over there changing, let's go Y/n!" Nami screams.

"I guess I didn't like that." Y/n says showing off and upon hearing his voice, Luffy turns his head to look.

He doesn't know exactly what he felt at that moment, but it was something very similar to a heart attack.

"What do you think Luffy?" Y/n says observing Luffy's serious expression.

"You are the most beautiful pirate I have ever seen in my entire life." Y/n blushes when she hears this and Zoro scoffs.

"That's very kind of you Luffy, thank you." Y/n says awkwardly.

"Seriously you... you would easily be mistaken for a princess or something." Luffy says getting up and going to Y/n.

Y/n smiles at Luffy who is right in front of her now, and suddenly he starts moving his nose sniffing.

"And what is that smell?" Luffy says trying to identify the smell.

"It must be from dinner Luffy."

"No no, it's something else." And then he does something that leaves everyone wide-eyed.

Luffy puts his nose on Y/n's neck, sniffing deeply, sending shivers all over Y/n's body.

"Luffy don't do that." She says laughing and pushing his shoulders awkwardly.

“Your smell better than meat Y/n!” Luffy says laughing and she feels her cheeks heat up.

"That really surprised me." Zoro says laughing a little.

"Y/n can I smell you more often?" Luffy asks smiling.

"I think you can?"

And it doesn't end here

Y/n is sitting next to Luffy during dinner, she is drinking when she suddenly feels something warm on her neck and turns red as a tomato when she sees Luffy's hair and realizes it was him sniffing her neck again, almost making her to drown.

"Luffy for the love of God don't do that." She says pushing him awkwardly again.

"You really smell good ." He says smiling, and she feels her heart soften.

Y/n doesn't know what to do or say so she just turns forward again, seeing this Luffy's smile disappears

"Oh you don't like that Y/n?" Luffy says loudly, unintentionally drawing the attention of the entire table.

"No, don't worry Luffy, it's okay." She smiles and puts her hand on his shoulder.

But no, it wasn't okay, Luffy thought about Y/n's reaction during dinner, during his speech and everything.

What he least wanted was to hurt or offend Y/n, she was too special to him, it made him so anxious that he simply couldn't wait until the next day to talk to Y/n, so here he is facing the bedroom door her.

Before he can knock on the door, Y/n opens it and is surprised to see Luffy there.

"Oh hi Luffy, everything okay?"

"I'd like to apologize if I made you uncomfortable hi something like that it wasn't my intention." Y/n thinks she fell in love with Luffy even more after hearing him say that.

"Oh no Lu, it's okay, I… I liked that." Y/n says embarrassed as she admits this and he smiles at that.

"That's great, because I like doing this too." He says and moves closer to smell Y/n again, but this time, she tilts her head to give him better access.

But when he is moving away from her, he stops in the middle of the way with their noses almost touching, and then Luffy gives Y/n a quick peck on the lips, quickly moving her face away and smiling.

"Damn why did you do that? It must have made her uncomfortable again" He is torturing himself with his thoughts when Y/n speaks again.

"Do you want to go find the kitchen?" Y/n says and his smile widens.

"Yes, let's go!" Luffy grabs Y/n's wrist and pulls her along with him.

He's happy that his favorite person in the world isn't mad at him, and she's happy that her favorite pirate cares about her so much.

love young bro...

─────────────────

I feel like if Dean was allowed to form his own music taste independently from John winchester he'd be really into Brazilian funk

three taps (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: kaz taps three times. it’s his way to say i love you, i care.

or

the three times it took jesper to realize that three taps were something more than a meaningless habit.

warnings: violence, blood, implied se*ual as*ault (not detailed at all and very brief)

a/n: did i write this in less than a day? yes. did the inspiration come to me at six am? also yes. what about your other 50 wip, anna? did you write anything for them? nope.

hope you enjoyed reading this one as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

i. tap, tap, tap

Jesper had seen him do it more times than he could count. It was Kaz’s thing. Three taps, index finger hitting a wooden table, thumb brushing against a map or cane harshly meeting the floor. Most times they were fast taps, like a subconscious action, coming and going before anyone could give it any mind. Other times, however, they were slower, more emphasized, as if trying to make a point. Jesper was used to the taps, as he imagined (Y/N) and Inej also were. The sound came prior to every heist, prior to pronouncing the words of luck (no mourners, no funerals).

It was Kaz’s habit, something he probably did without even realizing, and Jesper couldn’t help but find it oddly comforting, a routine that somehow eased his nerves. (The world could be going to war, Ketterdam could be crashing down in flames, and Kaz would still tap three times. There was a sense of safety in that.)

It wasn’t until Jesper had a closer look that he realized the action was perhaps not as meaningless as he believed.

ii. cane meets ground three times: come back to me, i’m here

(Y/N) had known Kaz the longest out of all of them. Jesper hadn’t known the Slat without her, he hadn’t known Kaz without her. She’d always been there, a person in which the Dregs often found solace and always obtained an ear to listen without judgment. (Y/N) was a walking contradiction, soft around the edges yet powerful enough to bring the toughest people to their knees. She was everything Kaz wasn’t, maybe that was the reason they complimented each other as well as they did.

Keep reading

you gonna let me be good to you?

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: your little slip up forces you and frank to come to terms with your feelings for one another.

warnings: cursing, fluffy frank, mentions of blood (its frank babes), explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 9.7k

a/n: this one goes out to all my frankie lovers <3 I promised this a long time ago and i've literally been working on it for weeks but it didn't feel ~right~ until now. i'm a slut for soft frank, and frank in general, so here's 22 pages of just that. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Frank Castle was not a man who was easily taken by surprise. He was used to having the upper hand, normally several steps ahead of everyone else, but even in a tight unexpected situation he was able to come out on top. There were very few things left in this world that shocked him anymore. After his time in the marines, and the reputation that preceded him as The Punisher, he had seen and done things most people couldn’t fathom in their wildest imaginations. 

Yet, here he was, staring down at his phone absolutely and completely dumbfounded. As much as he knew he should, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the picture displayed on the screen. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The longer he stared at it, the more he felt his jeans becoming increasingly too tight. His eyes anxiously flickered between the photo, and the door he knew you were just on the other side of. For the first time in a long time, Frank didn’t know what to do. He was completely in shock..because you had just accidentally sent him a photo of yourself in lingerie.

Frank had stopped by your office and asked if you could send him some photos of a few documents that you had found at the library that contained confidential information related to a “case” he was working on. You opted to take photos instead of printing the documents, not wanting it to be tracked back to you or him. Frank had met you through Karen, you were her best friend, and you graciously helped him out from time to time. 

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. He shouldn’t be staring. He should delete the photo and lie through his teeth saying he never got anything. He didn’t want you to be embarrassed. You two were friends, in a way he supposed. As much as anyone could really be Frank Castle’s friend. As soon as the door to your office swung open, Frank whipped his head up in the direction of your voice.

“Hey, did you get the photos? Sorry, I have terrible signal in here. I wanted to make sure you got them before you took off.”

Frank felt frozen. There was no doubt a light shade of pink coated the tops of his cheeks, which he knew he could easily blame on the heat in the building. But if he didn’t get the hell out of there fast, there would be little to no ignoring the effect the photo had on him. He could already feel all the blood in his body rushing straight downwards. Frank cleared his throat awkwardly, looking anywhere but at you, turning his phone over in his hands timidly.

“I uh..think you sent me the wrong thing.”

The furrow of confusion in your brows and the adorable pout that formed on your lips made his cock twitch in his jeans. He let his mind wander for a moment as he thought about how pretty those full lips of yours would look wrapped around the head of his cock. He couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling down your body, now that he knew what was hiding underneath. He paid extra attention to how the fabric of your pencil skirt clung to your curvy hips, and the little taste of cleavage he caught from your blouse that dived into a v-shape just above the swell of your breasts. Fuck. Stop it.

“I didn’t send you the photos of documents?”

“No..you uh..sent me somethin’ else. Somethin’ that uh..wasn’t..meant for me.”

Frank should’ve stopped you from checking your phone to see just what he was talking about. He should’ve brushed it off, told you not to worry and to just send the photos when you had a minute, and gotten the hell out of there. But another part of him was curious about your reaction to your mishap. As you unlocked your phone to check your previous messages with Frank, a sharp gasp suddenly left your lips and your hand flew up to cover your mouth. Your doe eyes were blown wide open as you stared down at Frank in panic. 

“Oh my god, Frank..I-I’m so sorry. Oh my god, I can’t believe I sent you that. I..I’m so..I’m so sorry.”

“S’alright. Honest mistake. I just uh..knew it wasn't for me. Thought you should..be aware, I guess.”

He had to look away. He couldn’t handle the sight of you biting your lip, even if it was innocent. All it did was fuel the sinful thoughts berating around in his head. Sure, he’d always thought you were pretty, even from the moment you two first met. But he never thought more of it. He never thought about you like that until now. Now that he had seen what your body looked like covered in thin black lace. You weren’t exactly naked in the photo, but it damn sure left nothing to the imagination. It awoke something within Frank he was having difficulty taming.

“It..it wasn’t for anyone really.”

You weren’t sure why you said that. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. You knew why. You wanted him to know those photos weren’t for anyone in particular. That no other man had seen that. Frank’s head cocked to the side at your confession, eager for you to continue but staying quiet.

“I..um..that was for Karen.”

If Frank’s cock wasn’t throbbing before, it definitely was now. His eyes widened in surprise, and you must have been able to read his thoughts at that very moment, because you rolled your eyes playfully and giggled as your full lips split into a playful grin.

“Not..not like that, Castle. We just..got drunk one night and somehow got on the topic of lingerie and..I told her I’d never owned any before and..um..wanted to know what it felt like..to wear it. So, she talked me into buying some. We actually bought the same set, hers is pink. But we didn’t remember any of that. So when it came in, Karen sent me a picture of hers and asked how mine looked so I um..sent her one back.”

Frank was thanking any God that was listening that he had brought a backpack today, and that it was currently conveniently placed over his prominent bulge. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was about what you had just said that was driving him absolutely mad. He couldn’t pinpoint if it was the fact that you had taken a photo like that to send to Karen, or the fact that he was the only person besides Karen that had ever seen that photo. That he was the only man that had seen you all dressed up like that. A sudden wave of possessiveness washed over him, and he knew he had to snap out of it. The room felt like it was shrinking and he could feel sweat starting to form along his hairline. He had to get the fuck out of that office. Away from you.

“Oh..well..uh..again, no worries. It..looks nice. Just uh, send me the photos when ya get a minute? Gotta..go meet a guy. Thanks again.”

Frank was on his feet in a flash and bolting out the door without another word, leaving you there stunned by his reply. His boots thudded heavily against the steps with every furious step he took, swearing at himself along the way.

“Fuckin’ idiot. ‘Looks nice’? Seriously? That’s the best you could fuckin’ come up with? You dumb motherfucker.”

Frank paused at the bottom of the steps, waging an internal moral war within himself. Part of him wanted to turn around, march right back up to your office, tell you what he really thought about the picture, then bend you over your desk and fuck you six ways from Sunday. But he knew better. He couldn’t get involved with you. He couldn’t get involved with anyone. 

»»———　　———««

It had been two weeks since you had heard from Frank. That wasn’t totally unusual. Frank was known to disappear for weeks, even months at a time, then would show back up when he needed something. You had met him several months ago through Karen. You had drunkenly confessed your crush on the big, bad Punisher to her. You knew she had a weird, complicated friendship with Frank. Karen was your best friend, and you two shared a lot of familiar trauma and a complicated moral compass. You both felt like you could understand Frank’s motives, subtly justifying his actions to no one but each other. That was why she knew she could trust you with him.

Seven months ago, Frank had showed up at your door at one-thirty in the morning, completely covered in blood. To say you were surprised was an understatement. Your shock must have been clearly written all over your features when you answered the door to find none other than Frank Castle leaning against the doorway, face covered in fresh bruises and gashes that were dripping with molasses of deep crimson. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he grunted and nodded his head towards you.

“Karen said you were a friend. Knew your way ‘round a first aid kit.”

All the pieces started to slowly come together in your head. Karen was out of town for a conference with the Bulletin. Frank must have come looking for her, and she had most likely redirected him to you in her absence, knowing that you would help him. Frank looked somewhat..nervous? His dark eyes trailed over you with uncertainty, clearly still unsure how trustworthy you were. He must have either been desperate or in a lot of pain to bite the bullet and follow Karen’s instructions to find you. Blinking away your stunned expression, you willed your foggy brain to clear up as you swung your door open wider and held your trembling hand out towards him.

“Oh..yeah, sorry. I..I wasn’t expecting anyone. Um..come in. What uh..what do you need?”

That was the first time you had patched up Frank. Your hands shook slightly with trepidation, due to the fact that Frank was hurt badly and you didn’t want to make it worse, but also due to the fact that you were face to face with the Frank Castle for the first time. Pictures didn’t do him justice. He didn’t make small talk, not that you really expected him to. He sat there silently, grunting every now and then as you stitched him back together and cleaned his various wounds, all the while watching you with complete scrutiny. When he finally passed out from either blood loss or exhaustion, you stayed up all night curled up in the chair across from the small couch his body had completely overtaken. If you hadn’t been so stressed, you might have laughed at the sight of his large body dangling off your tiny couch. 

You checked his breathing every twenty minutes, only stopping after two hours when his large hand darted out to grab onto your wrist carefully. His touch was rough and warm, a juxtaposition you welcomed eagerly. Your eyes widened slightly at just how large his hand was compared to your own, completely covering your fingertips up to the beginning of your forearm. Your breath hitched in your throat as he opened his eyes to look up at you, the moonlight filtering through your curtains illuminating a sliver of his hardened features. An achingly beautiful mosaic of purples and blues were scattered over his face where bruises had begun to bloom like the first day of spring. There was a tiny glint of reverence in his obsidian eyes that nearly knocked the breath out of you.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re hurt, and I really don’t want you to die in my living room.”

“You doubtin’ your own work, doc?”

“I..I’m not a doctor, Frank. Nor any version of a licensed medical professional. I’m an editor for fucks sake. I read manuscripts for a living. I just happen to know my way around a first aid kit because I have three fearless and extremely reckless younger brothers.”

That was the first time, and one of the only times, you ever saw Frank Castle smile. The corners of his mouth curved upwards into the ghost of a miniscule grin. You wanted it to last forever. But as most things with Frank, it was fleeting, and as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished. His large hand gently squeezed at your wrist before letting go. You hated how quickly you already missed the brief contact.

“I ain’t gonna die. Trust me, I’ve had worse. Get some sleep.”

“Frank-”

“Karen trusts you. So do I.”

»»———　　———««

And that was typically how it went over the next few months. If Karen was out of town or busy with a deadline, Frank came to you. Sometimes, he came straight to you anyway, grumbling some excuse about Karen being wrapped up in something. It made your heart swell with pride that you had won Frank’s trust, and that sometimes he came to you just because he wanted to. That he considered you two something along the lines of friends. There were moments that made you question if there was room for more than that. Frank always guided you to the opposite side of the sidewalk when you were out, taking the spot closest to the street himself. Sometimes he placed his large hand carefully on your lower back to usher you in the correct direction if you weren’t paying enough attention to where you were walking, the gentle act sending your brain into a frenzy. He even memorized your coffee order, although he would always insult it and scoff before giving it to you. “You ever try gettin’ any actual coffee with all that sweet shit?” You had tried several times to work up the courage to flirt with him in a way that was light enough it could be played off as banter, but you were never brave enough.

You supposed you could chalk all those little moments up to him just being a gentleman, and anything else you had derived had been a figment of your own imagination. Frank was a stoic, broody, incredibly intimidating man. He was never mean to you, of course. He had never been anything but gentle with you. Still, you were afraid. You could never gauge what he was feeling unless it was anger. He was extremely difficult to read, and he didn’t talk more than he had to. Frank was also a very complicated man, still very clearly in mourning of what he had lost. It felt wrong to invade on that. 

You thought you would eventually get used to the sight of him shirtless, or only in boxers. But unfortunately for you, that day never came. As a matter of fact, every time you saw him begin to shred his torn and bloodied clothes, it only made the ache between your thighs that much more unbearable. He was absolutely captivating. Every inch of muscle was defined perfectly, from his broad shoulders down to the delicious v lines that disappeared beneath the waistband of his briefs. Frank’s arms were bigger than your head, and his hands..God you loved his hands. You wanted to know what they felt like wrapped around your throat, digging into your hips, palming at your chest. You didn’t turn your eyes away from the scars that were scattered across his skin, but they did send fresh cracks throughout your heart every time they were on display. You wanted to trace your fingertips over them, and gently kiss every single one of them away. You knew the scars that covered his skin were nothing compared to the ones you couldn’t see.

There was one night you thought you had finally been caught. Your hands were shaking, not because you were nervous or because the gash on Frank’s hip was really bad, but because he was so close to you, closer than he had ever been. You were on your knees right beside him while he laid back on the couch, arm propped up behind his head showcasing his bulging bicep. Your palm was flat against his lower abdomen, right above the waistband of his briefs, as your other carefully stitched his torn flesh back together.

His dick was essentially staring you in the face beneath the thin fabric and it made it hard to focus. Everytime you moved in closer to Frank, your heart pounded so hard against your ribcage you were certain he could hear it in the silence. Feeling the warmth radiating from the proximity to his skin, skimming the taut muscle under your fingertips, smelling the scent of his musky cologne that filled your small apartment for days even after he left, it drove you wild. Frank chuckled deeply as he placed his large hand completely over yours, tearing your unfiltered attention back to his face.

“You keep shakin’ like that, you’re gonna stab me. I’ve had my fill of bein’ stabbed for one evenin’.”

“I..Sorry.”

“S’alright. I just need ya to relax for me, can ya do that?”

Your mouth went dry at his words. You knew he hadn’t meant for them to sound so suggestive, but it stirred something deep within you. You would do fucking anything that man asked. Letting out a deep breath, you pushed your selfish thoughts to the back of your mind and licked your lips, nodding your head slowly.

“Yeah..yeah, I-I’m sorry. This one’s just..it’s pretty bad, Frank.”

“I’ll live. Take your time, darlin’.”

Oh. That was new. The tone of Frank’s voice was so soft and gentle in comparison to the usual gruffness of it that it made you almost wanna cry. You had never heard him talk to anyone that way, not even Karen. Frank was never aggressive or demanding with you, but he usually wasn’t so soft spoken either. He had certainly never called you anything other than your name before. Frank’s voice was another thing you loved. It was so rough and coarse, the deep bass of it traveled straight to your core every time he spoke.

“Ya’know, we were trained to do this shit. Never know when you gotta piece someone back together while shit’s explodin’ around ya. We were trained for months, ya’know?. I tell ya, first time I ever had to stitch one of my guys up, I was scared shitless. It’s easy to prepare to do somethin’, but ya never actually know what it’s gonna be like ‘til you do.”

That was one of the few times Frank had ever opened up about his past to you, clueing you in to the Frank that might still be there under all the jagged layers of pain and trauma. It made you smile, that he felt comfortable enough to share that with you, like you had won over another small piece of him. A tiny victory. 

“It’s really hard for me to imagine you being scared.”

“I’m still human. Sure, I get scared sometimes. Not as much these days, ya’know. Not as much to lose.”

»»———　　———««

Unbeknownst to you, Frank had spent every single night of the past two weeks with one hand wrapped viciously around his cock and the other death gripped onto his phone with your risque picture on display. He knew it was wrong. He knew he should feel bad about it. Frank really did try to get that picture out of his head. He took cold shower after cold shower, cleaned every single gun in his collection twice, and even tried to take his frustrations out on the unlucky fucks that dared to get in his way. But it was no use. The swell of his cock refused to go down until he paid it some attention. It was relentless and Frank was desperate.

It was supposed to just happen once. Frank was supposed to get it out of his system, delete the picture, and move on. But every night he found a reason not to get rid of it. Every night, he had an excuse. He felt like a raging, horny teenager all over again, fucking his hand into the mattress of the motel bed every night to the sight of you in the barely there black lace, imagining what you would feel like wrapped around him. Frank hadn’t touched himself in weeks, had been too busy and focused to cater to his own needs. But wild imaginations of you had him feeling like he was going to fucking explode if he couldn’t give himself some relief. Throughout the day he was ansty, even more irritable than usual, hardly able to fucking sit still as he thought about what was waiting for him once he got back to his room.

It wasn’t just the picture that preoccupied his mind. Frank felt like he was fucking consumed with you. He found himself thinking about you constantly, wondering how your day at work was, if you were safe, what book you had your nose in this week, what latest bakery treat you were trying your hand at. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, you had grown on him immensely. He made excuses for himself when he would opt to visit you instead of Karen. He tricked himself into believing that Karen was busy instead of facing the truth that he just wanted to see you. Just wanted to hear your laugh when he said something you thought was funny. Just wanted to borrow another book from your collection to get a glimpse into your mind. Just wanted to pretend to be a burden when you offered to let him stay for dinner because it was the only fucking sense of normalcy he had these days. Just wanted to feel your soft touch on his skin as you carefully mended all of the parts of him that were torn and broken, even the parts you couldn’t see.

That picture shed a light on something that Frank had been desperately trying to ignore since the moment he met you and experienced your undeserved kindness. A feeling Frank swore he would never, and could never, encounter again. Part of him felt guilty. How could he be infatuated with another woman when he was still waist deep in revenge for the one he lost? The other part of him could no longer deny how badly he wanted you. That curtain had been pulled back, a glaring spotlight on everything Frank had tried to hide from these past few months. There was no more pretending.

Frank had a choice to make. It was either give in, or let you go. For good. His struggles with his feelings for you were beginning to get in the way of his work and if he wasn’t careful, he was gonna make a mistake in a big way. He had to make a choice, and fast, consequences be damned.

»»———　　———««

You had just finished getting out of a steamy shower, humming softly to yourself as you rubbed your favorite velvet amber and patchouli scented lotion all over your damp skin. After letting your hair down from the messy knot on top of your head, you put on a pair of silky sleep shorts and a tank top, slipping a pair of fuzzy socks onto your feet. You continued to hum as you padded through the open living room to the kitchen that was connected, not even noticing the dark figure sitting in the corner that was silently observing you. As you reached for a wine glass from the cabinet, a deep voice cut through the quiet and burst your blissful ignorance. 

“You really need a security system.”

You jumped with a squeal at the sound of the voice, instantly whipping around to face the dark figure with widened eyes. You had a few candles burning on the coffee table that cast an ambient golden glow over your apartment. You had planned a relaxing evening for yourself and decided not to run up your electricity bill when you had so many candles that you had been excited to burn. Your heart beat frantically in your chest as you squinted your eyes, trying to make out the silhouette in the corner.

“S’just me, darlin’. Don’t freak out.”

“Frank?”

“Didn’t even reach for a knife or nothin’. Thought I taught you better than that.”

A deep, breathy sigh of relief sounded from you as Frank slowly stood and took a few steps forward into the dim light, his large frame finally coming into view. You rubbed your palms over your face slowly, feeling your nerves start to settle now that there was not in fact an intruder in your apartment.

“Jesus, Frank. You nearly sent me into cardiac arrest. Why didn’t you make any noise when you came in?”

Frank stared at you silently, an unreadable expression plastered over his face. For a moment, he heavily regrets not alerting you that he was here while you were in the shower. Maybe you wouldn’t be wearing those tiny little shorts and a tank top with no bra. He grinds his teeth as he takes in your appearance. He can still see little droplets of water gliding down your collarbones, soaking into the fabric of your tank top. Your hair cascaded over your shoulders in loose waves, and your cheeks were still twinged pink from the heat of the shower. He can smell the scent of your lotion over all the burning candles, and it made his fingers twitch at his sides. 

“Sorry. Tried to holler, but don’t think ya heard me over the shower.”

That was a lie. He had knocked though, and then began to panic when you didn’t answer. It was late on a Saturday, so he knew you weren’t at work. The thought briefly crossed his mind that you could be on a date, but he furiously pushed that to the back of his mind as he fished for his spare key to your place and shoved the door open. His right hand flew to the gun tucked into the belt of his jeans, ready to shoot at whoever as his eyes darted rapidly around your apartment. He only stilled when he heard the sound of running water and the melodic tune of your voice as you sang some fucking pop song he didn’t recognize.

Frank had quietly shut the door, securing both locks into place before taking a seat in the chair in the corner of the room. He closed his eyes and relaxed back against the chair as he listened to you sing in the shower. It was a complete invasion of privacy, but definitely not the worst one he had committed when it came to you. Frank thought you sounded like an angel. He wanted to hear you sing more. Maybe he’d play guitar for you, if you’d sing along. Your voice caused a wave of calm to wash over him that he hadn’t felt in weeks. Although, it was short lived when he heard the water cut off and quickly had to come up with an excuse as to why he was sitting in the dark waiting for you.

You hadn’t noticed the way Frank was looking at you since your eyes were too busy scanning over his entire body for injuries. You tilted your head to the side, brows knit together quizzically as you made your way over to stand in front of him. Normally when Frank showed up like this, he was bloody, and there were wounds to be cleaned or stitched. But you didn’t see anything. No cuts. No scrapes. No bruises. No gashes or bullet holes from what you could tell. Not a single piece of his hair was even out of place. You dipped your head back to stare up at Frank in bemusement.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? I..I don’t see any holes.”

You smiled at your own little stupid joke, but it quickly faltered when you took in the look on his face. Frank had begun to give in a little to your lame attempts to make him laugh, granting you mercy and offering the faintest of smiles or chuckles in response. But he wasn’t smiling, or laughing. His strong jaw was set in a hard line, and his expression was stony. There was something in his eyes though..something unfamiliar you had never seen before.

“I’m fine.”

Both of you stared at one another silently for what felt like hours. You began to feel uneasiness seep into your bones, feeling suddenly even smaller under his harsh gaze. Frank was huge, physically and height-wise. He always towered a good foot over you, which never made you feel unsettled until right now. He looked almost..mad? In that moment, you felt for everyone that had ever been on the receiving end of this menacing look. They didn’t have the luxury of knowing Frank Castle wouldn’t hurt them. Not like you did. Swallowing thickly, you took a shaky breath and spoke softly.

“So..if you don’t need patching up..what do you need, Frank?”

“To confess.”

Frank’s voice had dipped an impossible octave deeper and it caused you to shiver along with sending a flood of wetness between your thighs. You tried not to focus so much on his voice and instead on his words, feeling even more perplexed as they settled in your ears. You tilted your head slightly to the side as you stared up at him curiously.

“I..I’m not sure I’m the best person for the job. I’m not religious, Frank. You know that.”

“Yeah, but you’re the closest thing to an angel I’ve ever seen. Besides, it ain’t that kinda confession.”

Your heart thudded loudly in your ears and you felt warmth creeping onto your face, settling into a deep rosy tint that covered the expanse of your cheekbones. Your lips parted in surprise at his words. Frank had never said anything to you like that before. You had no idea where this was coming from, but you desperately wanted to find out.

“Oh..well..I’m not a cop either.”

“I know that, smartass.”

There was an edge to Frank’s voice that submissed you into silence. He wasn’t in the mood for games or playful banter. This was uncharted territory for you. Frank hadn’t been so impassive since the first night you met him, but he had also never spoken in such a harsh tone to you. It caused you to take a step back, and some kind of recognition flashed in Frank’s eyes about his slip. He wasn’t angry with you. He was angry with himself. He dipped his head for a moment, letting out a deep sigh through his nose before meeting your gaze again with a slightly softer expression.

“I need to confess somethin’ to you, personally.”

You didn’t know whether to speak or not, so you kept quiet, staring up into his dark ebony eyes and trying to find something, anything you could use to decipher his cryptic words. But he gave nothing away. Frank had an excellent poker face. There was nothing there but the emotion that was burning brightly in his stare that you still couldn’t identify. Frank squared his shoulders, bracing himself for whatever reaction you were about to have. It was now or never.

“I didn’t delete it.”

You blinked a few times as you tried to process his words, racking your brain for anything that would make them make sense. Confusion settled onto your features as you waited for Frank to continue, but he didn’t. He just stared at you in anticipation.

“What?”

“The picture. I didn’t delete it.”

It felt like your brain was swiveling back and forth as you tried to keep up. You had been so busy with work the past few weeks, and worrying about Frank, that you had almost forgotten about the photo you had accidentally sent him. Once that lightbulb went off in your head, your eyes widened slightly, lips parting to form an “o” shape, but you still didn’t speak. You had no idea what to say. You were still trying to process what he just said. Why did he say that? What did he mean?

“Oh.”

Frank’s hard stare shifted from your eyes to your full lips, trying to get a reading on what was going through your head. You typically wore all of your emotions, and normally that always helped clue him in to what you were feeling, but right now he couldn’t fucking tell. He could see the scarlet coating your cheeks, but he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment, anger or..something else. But that one simple word you uttered had completely taken him by surprise. His dark brows furrowed as they knit in the middle of his forehead, staring down at you in bewilderment.

“That’s it?”

“I..don’t really know what to say.”

“You ain’t mad?”

“Why?”

Frank cocked his head to the side as he stared down at you. He had prepared himself for a million different reactions from you. He had rehearsed an apology speech, was gonna let you use him as your own personal punching bag, nearly wore a goddamn bulletproof vest just in case. But this..was not in the realm of his expectations.

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“Why did you keep it?”

Frank paused for a moment. Maybe there was a chance to salvage this. He could lie. He could say he just forgot about it, realized his mistake, and wanted to apologize. But you didn’t look mad that he kept it. You looked..intrigued. You weren’t yelling at him, calling him a pervert and tossing him out of your apartment, so he decided to press his luck and take it a step further. Fuck it.

“Because I thought you looked fucking beautiful in it.”

Frank’s words nearly knocked the breath right out of your lungs. You were having a hard time processing them, even as they echoed loudly in your ears over and over again. That fire that was burning in his predatory gaze was now roaring loudly, setting you ablaze along with it once realization set in. It wasn’t anger swirling around in Frank’s eyes, it was lust. 

You had to be dreaming. This had to be a dream. There was no way Frank Castle himself was here, standing in front of you, telling you he thought you were beautiful. Your brain wouldn’t accept it. This had to be some sick, twisted trick your mind was playing on you. Warmth spread between your thighs like wildfire at his admission, the wetness already there doing nothing to put it out. Frank’s stare was unwavering. He wouldn’t tear his eyes away from you. As if he could sense your apprehension, he took a bold step forward and hooked his index finger under your chin, tilting your head back so that you had to look up at him.

“C’mon, darlin. Talk to me. Tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours. ”

“I..I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“You think I’m pretty.”

Frank chuckled lightly, brushing the calloused pad of his thumb experimentally over your cheekbone in a soothing manner. 

“No, I said I think you’re beautiful.”

“Why?”

“The hell you mean ‘why’?”

You couldn’t think of an answer. You couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of Frank lightly dragging his thumb slowly along the edge of your bottom lip, his gaze dropping just for a moment to linger on your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed at the contact, reveling in the sensation of his touch on you for once. 

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes instantly flew open at his gruff words, and a tiny smirk curled onto the corner of his mouth at your obedience. Cupping your cheek gently, he took a slight step forward to close the gap between you, placing his other hand gingerly on your lower back. He pulled you in languidly until you were flush against him, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort, but he didn’t find any. You melted into his touch, leaning your face into his rough palm like you had dreamed of so many nights before. You weren’t pulling away. You weren’t telling him to leave. You weren’t angry. You wanted this too.

“Atta girl. You been so damn good to me these past few months, sweetheart. You gonna let me be good to you?”

You sighed softly at his words, nodding your head eagerly as your hands flew up to grip tightly onto the collar of his black denim jacket. As you stood up on your tiptoes to capture his lips, both of his large hands grasped onto your waist to keep you in place as he stared down into your eyes with a shake of his head.

“I need words, sweet girl. C’mon, needa hear it. Tell me you want this too.”

“I want it, Frank. Please..please.”

That was all the affirmation Frank needed to crash his lips onto yours like violent waves in a perilous storm. The kiss was hungry and desperate, and you found yourself getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He was everywhere but you felt like you couldn’t be close enough. You fervently shoved the worn denim down his shoulders, letting it fall carelessly onto the floor beneath as your fingers attempted to work on the buttons on his shirt. Frank chuckled against your mouth as he broke the kiss, grabbing both of your wrists in one of his large hands.

“Easy baby, we got all night.”

“But-”

“Shh. Let me take care of you for once, yeah?”

Before you could register what was happening, Frank had wrapped his strong arms around your waist and lifted you as if you weighed nothing, crossing the small space of your apartment in short strides towards your bedroom. You half expected him to toss you down onto the mattress, and were pleasantly surprised when he carefully sat you down on the edge of your bed. You dipped your head back to stare up at him in wonder.

Anticipation buzzed throughout your veins and you felt your breath hitch in your throat when Frank slowly kneeled down in front of you to be eye level with you. His large hands came down to rest on your bare thighs, squeezing gently to get your attention.

“The second I do somethin’ you don’t like, you let me know. At any point you change your mind, or wanna stop, tell me. I won’t be mad. Understand?”

Nodding your head fervently, you surged forward and grasped Frank’s face in your hands, hungrily chasing the taste of his lips. He chuckled against your mouth, tearing himself away which caused you to whine softly as he gently grabbed your wrists.

“C’mon, honey. What’d I tell ya? Need your words. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand Frank just..please..kiss me.”

You didn’t care how needy and desperate you sounded. Months and months of built up frustration were making you more impatient than usual. You had been dreaming about this for so long, and it was finally happening. You found yourself momentarily suspended in belief that Frank actually thought there was anything he could do that you wouldn’t absolutely love. 

“Yes ma’am.”

Frank settled on his knees in between your thighs, grabbing onto the back of your head as his other hand found its home on your waist. Your lips were incredibly soft and tasted of that pink grapefruit chapstick that you were always wearing. As he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, you meekly whined, and the sound went straight to his cock. Frank was caught in tandem between wanting to take his time and worship every inch of you and wanting to be selfish and finally bury himself to the hilt inside of you.

This time when your timid fingers went to work on the buttons of his shirt, he didn’t stop you. He decided to let you set the pace, and would only go as far as you wanted. He tore his hands away from you only for a brief moment as you pushed the shirt over his broad shoulders, instantly returning his touch to every spare expanse of your skin he could find to ground himself to reality. You were here, and you wanted him. 

Your fingertips brushed against every curve of muscle, every raised and indented scar like you had done so many times before, but this time with renewed vigor. Frank’s skin was always so warm and you savored every ember of his heat. His fingertips cautiously slipped under the hem of your tank top, dancing over the exposed skin of your hips as he brought his lips near your ear.

“Can I take this off, honey?”

“Yes.”

You were surprised at how quickly you were able to answer. Lifting your arms above your head, you let Frank tug the soft fabric upwards, letting out a soft hiss when the chill in the room nipped at your exposed chest. Frank’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you nearly naked before him, a low groan emitting in the back of his throat. He didn’t hesitate to lean in and latch his mouth around one of your peaked nipples causing a soft moan to tumble from your lips. The warmth of his mouth contrasted so sharply with your cold bedroom that it had your head spinning. You arched your back to grant your chest fully to Frank, becoming a whimpering mess as his large hand fondled your breast and played with your other nipple. You gripped onto the back of his neck, growing wetter by the second from his delectable assault on your chest.

“Frank..please..”

“What is it baby? What do ya need, hm? Tell me what ya need, I’ll give you anything. Anything you fuckin’ want.”

“Please touch me.”

You should be embarrassed at how breathy you sounded, already so worked up from so little. But that was just the effect Frank had on you, and he fucking loved it. He loved how responsive you were to his touch, and his words. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your little shorts and panties, giving the elastic on both a faint tug.

“Gotta take these off. Gonna let me do that, hm?”

“Please.”

Frank thought he was gonna cum in his pants just from the way you were already begging for him. He had barely even touched you yet, and his excitement only grew for how you would react when he finally did. In a flash, you were completely bare before him, and Frank thought you were the most beautiful fucking thing he had ever seen. Leaning in closer, his broad shoulders spread your thighs further apart to give him a better view of your glistening cunt, and he was fucking done for.

“Fuck sweetheart. You been like this the whole fuckin’ time?”

You shuddered at the ravenous look in Frank’s eyes as he zeroed in on your soaked pussy. The wetness that had accumulated since his confession had grown unbearable, and you just needed him to do something. Anything. 

“Everytime you’re around.”

Frank’s eyes darkened considerably as they flickered up towards your face, a wicked glint dancing around in his irises. 

“That right?”

Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you nodded your head quickly, feeling heat spreading even further throughout your thighs.

“My poor girl. That’s just fuckin’ mean of me, ain’t it? You take such good care of me, and I leave you like this. Fuckin’ cruel of me. You gonna let me take care of you now?”

Frank's large hands slowly inched up your thighs, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the tops of them. He stared you down intently as he braced his palms on your inner thighs, spreading you open completely for him. Raising his hand up slowly, he hovered his thumb over your clit as he waited for your answer. 

“Please, Frank.”

“Atta girl.”

The contact of his rough thumb pressing against your clit had you jolting upwards, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth without warning. Frank gripped onto your hip to keep you steady, using his index finger to collect some of your slick before starting to rub slow, purposeful circles around your clit. You moaned at the relief you felt when he touched you, grabbing onto one of his shoulders to tug him in closer. Frank fucking loved the way you sounded, and he wanted more of it. He slowly increased his speed, applying more pressure here and there before slowly slipping his index finger inside of you. He took a moment to gather himself at how tight you felt around just his finger, his cock twitching in his jeans at the thought of how easily he could ruin you for any other man.

“There we go, that’s my good girl. Go on, move those hips. Just like that baby. C’mon sweetheart, take what you need.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your hips against Frank’s hand, watching the way his arm flexed everytime he pushed his finger back inside your greedy pussy. He followed your movements like the tide chasing the moon, pushing back wherever you pulled. A louder moan rang throughout your otherwise silent apartment when he added a second finger, curling them both upon exit in a beckoning manner that had your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. He hadn’t even fucked you, and you were ruined. You would never be able to touch yourself again. You would never be as good as Frank. No one would.

“Doin’ so fuckin’ well for me, baby. Knew you would. Look so beautiful like this. Gonna let me taste you, hm? Bet you taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

Frank didn’t bother to wait for you to answer this time. The alluring noises you made were enough for him to pull you further to the edge of the bed by your hips, diving in to devour you completely. A silent cry hung in your throat when he wrapped his lips around your swollen clit and began to suckle, all the while still driving his thick fingers inside you at unexplored depths. You were hanging on the edge by a thread, trying your hardest to will away your orgasm so he would keep his head between your thighs forever. Your fingers weaved through his dark tresses, loving how good he looked with his hair slightly grown out, but loving even more that you had something to pull on. 

Frank hummed at your taste. He fucking growled against your pussy and the vibrations had your thighs shaking around his head. You tried to give him a warning, but there was no time. You couldn’t find your voice. The second he started flicking his tongue over your sensitive nub at an inhuman pace while curling his fingers against that spongy spot inside you, you were coming apart and Frank was there to collect every drop. Your inner thighs burned from the abrasiveness of his stubble, but you welcomed it eagerly. If anything, it was at least one reminder that tonight had been real.

Frank didn’t stop his assault on your clit as you rode out your high on his fingers, continuing to lap up everything that you had to offer. You whimpered due to the sensitivity from your commanding orgasm, trying to push at Frank’s broad shoulders to get him to budge, but the stubborn fucker wouldn’t move. You could feel him grinning against your core, hear him chuckling softly at your whines and pleas. He was enjoying this. 

“God Frank, please. Please..I need a minute.”

Reluctantly, Frank leaned back and licked the rest of your release from his lips. You stared down at him breathlessly, wanting to commit every single detail of the sight before you to memory. His mouth and chin were still gleaming with your release, dark eyes wild and blown out, hair disheveled from your incessant tugging, and broad chest rising and falling quickly as he attempted to catch his breath. But the thing that stole the breath right out of your lungs was that Frank was smiling. Not a crooked one that took up the corner of his mouth, not his usual cocky smirk. A full on, mouth split wide open, all teeth on display, eyes crinkling at the corners, smile. If you hadn’t been so dazed out in bliss, you might have cried at the sight of it.

“You alright?”

“You’re smiling.”

“Hell yeah I’m smilin’. Just made my pretty girl come, and she tastes like fuckin’ heaven. What’s not to smile about?”

A blush crept on your cheeks at his words, causing you to mirror the grin that had taken over his mouth. 

“I’ve never seen you smile like that before.”

Frank raised up off his knees, leaning over the bed and placing both of his large hands on either side of your head as he looked down at you so tenderly, it made your stomach flip and nervousness settle in your ribcage. The look in his eyes felt so..intimate. 

“Ain’t had a reason to. Until you.”

Grabbing onto the back of Frank’s neck, you pulled him down to mold your lips together in a passionate kiss. You wanted him to feel everything. You wanted more. This kiss was different from the ones before. It was more patient and evocative, a silent understanding between you and Frank. Your fingertips trailed down the expanse of his chest until you reached the buckle of his belt, pulling the leather from the confinements and popping open the button of his jeans. His lips migrated along your jaw and down your neck, sucking softly at the juncture just above your collarbone.

His large hand wrapped around your throat, not tightly, but just to keep you close. His teeth skimmed along your neck as you tugged down his zipper, pushing his jeans and briefs down his hips to set him free. Frank let out a grateful groan when his cock slapped against his stomach, pulling back just for a moment to shred the layers of fabric completely. You clenched around nothing at the sight of him naked above you. God, he was beautiful. You greedily accepted his kiss once again when he settled his hips between yours, reaching between your bodies to carefully wrap your hand around his base, eliciting a delicious moan from his throat.

Frank was hard, and looked painfully so. You smoothed your thumb over the leaking tip of his cock, causing his hips to jerk forward slightly. He was incredibly thick and long, feeling unbelievably heavy in your small hand.

“Shit. Feels even better than I imagined.”

Your eyes darted up to meet Frank’s at his quiet confession, searching the midnight pools intently as a tiny smirk tugged at your lips.

“Frank Castle. You’ve thought about me touching you like this?”

There wasn’t even a shred of shame in Frank’s eyes as he stared down at you with a wolfish grin, leaning in to brush his nose along yours as you continued to stroke him slowly.

“Might’ve left out the part where I’ve been gettin’ off to that picture you sent me every night the past couple weeks.”

Your mouth dropped open and your eyes went wide, a hearty laugh rumbling deep within Frank’s chest.

“And you’re just telling me this now?”

“I thought you’d be mad.”

“Do I look mad?”

“No, and I’m so fuckin’ glad you’re not. Thought I was gonna have to say goodbye to you tonight.”

Frank carefully pried your hand off of him and replaced it with his own, rubbing the head of his cock between your slick folds and teasing your clit every time he did so. Your brows furrowed at his words, but the second you felt the weight of him rubbing against your still sensitive clit, you gasped sharply. Gripping onto his bicep, you struggled through the pleasure to keep your eyes open. You weren’t letting those words go so easily.

“Why would you say that Frank?”

Frank hated that he could hear the hurt that laced your question, leaning in to press his forehead against yours as he sighed deeply. His hips moved at a tedious pace to keep you both placated, but not enough to satisfy what either of you really wanted.

“Thought you’d be mad, never wanna see me again. Thought..fuck, that I couldn’t have you. Shouldn’t have you. You’re too good to me, sweetheart. Too good for me. Didn’t think I deserved somethin’ so..fuck, so good.”

Frank’s face was twisted up in a concoction of hedonism and self deprecation. You knew what he thought of himself. You knew you would never be able to get him to see what you saw in him. But that didn’t mean that you were going to stop trying. You lifted your hands to cradle his face, parted lips stretching into the best smile you could offer when he was dragging his cock lazily through your folds.

“You didn’t think to ask me what I wanted?”

At that, you lifted your hips slightly, signaling that you were ready for more. That you wanted more. Frank took the hint and slipped the head of his cock into your entrance, watching the way your eyes lulled shut at the feeling. It took every ounce of will power he had not to dive inside your body. He took his time, moving inch by inch, allowing you to adjust to his size. It felt like you were fucking suffocating him, and for a minute he was genuinely worried he wouldn’t be able to last. Once he had finally bottomed out, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck and let a strangled moan escape. You dug your fingertips into his shoulders as he stretched your walls to their limits, sucking in a breath at the burning trail he created.

Frank pulled your legs up to wrap around his hips, snaking one of his arms beneath you and around your waist to keep your chest flush to his. He was fucking terrified that at any moment you would disappear. Frank remained as patient as possible, awaiting with bated breath for you to tell him he could move. He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted something so fucking badly.

Turning your head slightly, you pressed the gentlest kiss to the skin beneath his ear. Frank lifted his head slightly so he could get a good look at you, feeling his heart race at the sight of you beneath him.

“I want you, Frank. All of you. If you want me too, then have me. Please.”

Frank stared down at you in disbelief, trying to figure out what the fuck he had done so right that had led him to this moment right here, with you. But who was he to say no to you? Without another word, he retracted his hips slightly just to bring them flush with yours again. He marveled at the sight of you under him, kiss-bitten lips red and swollen and parted, his name falling in breathy pants and moans from them over and over every time he reached that peak inside you. He could fucking die like this.

“Feel too fuckin’ good sweetheart, not gonna make it much longer. Need ya to let go with me. Can you do that for me, sweet girl? Hm?”

You weren’t sure if you nodded or even spoke. You weren’t sure if you gave any indication at all to Frank that you were coherent and understood what he asked. 

“Look at me, baby. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you fall apart.”

The second his fingers found your clit, you were seeing stars. This orgasm was so much fucking stronger than the last one, it suckerpunched every bit of oxygen out of you and you found yourself struggling to breathe. Violent tremors shook throughout your body and you fought so hard to keep your eyes open just long enough to watch Frank fall apart just as hard above you. Your legs tightened around his waist and you gripped onto the back of his neck, holding on as much as he could as his hips stuttered against yours roughly when he finally spilled into you. The loud moan that ripped through his chest was like music to your ears and it nearly sent you over the edge again.

The room felt like a sauna, sweltering and sticky with Frank’s body heat and the combination of your releases hanging heavily in the air. Frank’s panting breaths and your desperate whimpers were the only things your ears could register. Your brain had seemingly shut off and your vision became incredibly fuzzy while you were coming down. You weren’t sure how long that lasted, but the feeling of a calloused finger stroking your cheek seemed to tether you back to reality.

Frank beamed down at you when you slowly opened your eyes, taking in the completely blissful, fucked out look on your face. You nuzzled into his palm, finding your lips maneuvering into a smile of their own accord. 

“There’s my girl. Thought I lost you for a second there. Was worried I broke you.”

A symphonious giggle fell from your lips and Frank couldn’t help but grin even wider at the sound. You hummed softly as you looked up at him, shaking your head slowly.

“I don’t break so easily, Castle. Guess you’ll just have to keep trying.”

“That right?”

Lightly gripping onto the chain around his neck, you pulled him down to meet you in a head-spinning kiss. His large hand grabbed your face gently, and you giggled when you felt him nip at your bottom lip.

“That’s right.”

“Well, practice does make perfect.”

Sweetheart | Kaz Brekker

Summary: Kaz’s reaction to you calling him “sweetheart”

Warnings: Just fluff!! I’m in a big Kaz mood, Freddy fucking Carter has once again grabbed me in a chokehold and I fear I won’t be getting out of it anytime soon. This one has actually been in my drafts for a while, I just never posted it until now. Enjoy <3

Kaz Brekker had many different names that others referred to him as. Dirtyhands. Bastard of the barrel. Demjin... but no one had ever called a sweetheart.

Not how you just had. That was a first, but- he didn’t quite mind it. Though, he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a shock to hear.

Endearing names were never used on him. There was never any reason for them to be. He was Kaz Brekker, the boy who did whatever it took to get a job done, and he relished in the fear that that struck in others.

However that didn’t stop you from deeming him a sweetheart. Your sweetheart.

Sure, he may be notorious for many of the wrong kinds of things, and have a list of cruel aliases, but underneath the hard and cold exterior he relied on for his job and survival, Kaz Brekker would always be your sweetheart at the end of the day.

You just never intended to say it out loud. You thought it to yourself in your head countless times, among other endearing pet names, but you didn’t dare breathe them to life. Until now, your brain and mouth had both failed you, and the words came tumbling out before you could stop yourself.

You knew you made a mistake the second you spoke. You wanted to take it back, unsay it... but it was too late. You had said it, and though it was soft and quiet, he had heard you clear as day.

He stood there, at his desk, but unlike how he had been rustling with paperwork before and chatting to you about the next job he had lined up, Kaz was still.

He looked almost frozen, but you could see the cogs in his brain turning at rapid pace, it just didn’t seem like he had figured out anything to say, Kaz remained silent, and so did you.

It went on like that for moments more, just Kaz and yourself, standing in his office in bleak quiet, both of you seemed to be unsure of talking.

However it couldn’t go on like that forever. One of you needed to speak up, and you decided it would be you. After all, this happened because of your slip up.

With a shaky breath, you turned towards Kaz fully, so you could look at him properly. Perhaps you should apologize for causing him any discomfort and pretend it didn’t happen, promise you wouldn’t say it again.

But before you could even utter a sentence, Kaz interrupted you. He held a gloved hand up to silent whatever words you were about to speak, his way of telling you he wanted fo speak first.

You immediately shut your mouth, and nodded at him, your silent way of telling him to go on.

He took a deep breathe. and you prepared yourself for whatever harsh words he was about fo throw your way like daggers.

Maybe he’d threaten you and say if you ever called him that again he’d kill you. There were so many ways he could do it and be able to get away with it. It’d be easy for him to get rid of you himself or have someone else do it for him like Inej-

“Say it again.” He said, snapping you out of your dark thoughts. Your anxious nerves deflated, now it was your turn to be shocked. “What?” you said slowly.

Kaz just looked at you incredulously, motioning one of his gloved hands towards you in a wave like movement, as a means to get you to speak. “I said say it again.” The tone in his voice was serious, but there was a lightness to it.

“S-say what again?” you muttered dumbly. Saints you sounded so stupid. You knew what he was talking about, but you were nervous to say it again, even if he was asking. Which, why was he asking exactly? Did he just want to hear a confirmation of what he thought he might’ve heard so when you say it, he can fire you or worse...

Kaz’s shocked nature from before had vanished completely and was now replaced with... a certain cheekiness you couldn’t quite understand where it came from. He was now fully facing you, leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his chest as he stared you down from the other side of the room.

“Well,” he tutted. “Go on, let me hear you say it again. I want to make sure I heard you correctly.” Kaz demanded once more, and despite him trying to play his role as the bastard of the barrel, you saw his slightly rosie cheeks.

And that’s when you realized something.

He wasn’t just trying to rial you up and embarrass you over the slip up, nor did he seem angry.

No, he wanted to hear you say it again because... he liked it. By Saints, he liked it!

You smiled to yourself in your head about that, before you straightened your shoulders and tried your best to look confident. Then, you strolled up to where Kaz was sitting on the edge of his desk, and you stood just close enough that you were almost between his legs.

You smiled softly at him as you leaned closer, but careful not to touch him. Your face and his were only a couple inches a way, his warm breathe ticked your ear. Signing softly you look into his eyes with your doe like ones and much louder and more meaningful this time, you hummed the petname.

“You like it when I say that, don’t you, sweetheart.”

Since the proximity between you two was so close, you could see every detail of his reaction much better now. The way his eyes dilated slightly, the pink in his cheeks grew slightly, the corners of his lips upturned for a split second.

Yeah, it was safe to say he liked being called a sweetheart. Just as long as it was you who said it.

I have something inappropriate to say.