#and he gets the little smile creases 😍

[wildsaltair]

every time Russell Crowe does a big wide beaming smile, an angel gets its wings

[kat-mobile]

could i request a small fic/imagine where tommy is soft with only his girlfriend/fiancé/wife and his kids?🫶🏼

Scary? My God you're divine!

A/N: hey babes, this is actually longer than I was expecting lmao. It still is under 1000 though. I am a huge sucker for soft!Tommy so thank you so much for this request 😍. I named the baby Charlotte before I realised how much her full name sucks and then couldn't be arsed to change it, so apologies to Charlotte Shelby. This is probably also ooc but I don't give a shit, but I hope you like it anon!!! 💕💕

You knew what Tommy did, what came with his job. All the illegal affairs and cutting people up. You'd be a fool not to. But you couldn't help but feel as if the real Tommy Shelby was the one who came out when he was with you.

Ever since the start of your relationship, Tommy had always acted differently around you, much softer, always there to place a soothing hand on your back or hunch over to talk to you with his lips brushing your ear, his words meant for no ears but your own. His hardened gaze softened and the corners of his mouth would quirk up in a a miniscule smile, only momentarily but you would count that as a win no less.

Arthur had employed you to help run things at the garrison, you weren't exactly excellent at maths but you were certainly better than Arthur so you would help with the books as well as working as a barmaid. The two of you met for the first time when Tommy burst into the office of the garrison with a cut on his sharp cheekbone, he thought he would be opening the door to his brother, you thought he was the most handsome man you had ever seen. You insisted on helping and sanitising the "wound" and although he initially refused he soon gave in to your worried frown and relentless offer of help. The two of you had been practically inseparable since, rarely seeing one without the other and if one was missing they were never very far behind.

Tommy took to you almost immediately after meeting you, and Polly clocked him the very next day. The woman always was good at reading Tommy and that day was no different.

Over the next couple of months, whenever he was around Tommy barely let you lift a finger, always eager to help lift things and assist in anyway possible, never letting you out yourself in any risk whatsoever, no matter how small. At first you were offended, thinking that he was doing it because he thought you incapable, what with you being a woman, or if he didn't trust you enough to do things on your own. But when you brought it up one day, thoroughly fed up, he was quick to quell your suspicions and doubts by instead admitting his growing feelings towards you. Absolutely zero persuasion was needed for you to agree to a date with the handsome Tommy Shelby, and now three years later you're married with an adorable little four month old baby girl named Charlotte.

Tommy often refers to your small family as his greatest weakness, saying that if it ever gets out how soft he is that his reputation would never recover. But you just laugh to yourself and cuddle in closer, hand coming up to stroke Charlotte's head. No one would believe it if it got out, he has nothing to worry about.

The first time Tommy had held her you would've thought she was made out of cheap glass, fragile and likely to break at even the smallest of mishandlings. You knew from the moment that little Charlotte Shelby first opened her eyes, sharp and blue like her fathers, that she had Birmingham's most feared gangster wrapped around her teeny tiny pinky. Once the doctor had shown him how to hold the baby properly, supporting her head and all that, it was hard to separate the two.

Every night when he came home to you he would lie in the centre of the bed with you curled up into his side, head resting on his firm shoulder, and he would place the small babe to lie on his bare chest, small legs tucking up in a scrunch like a frog and cute babbles making the corners of his eyes crease.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

hear me out..what abt u and miguel in a hotub trying to hide that fact that you guys are literally screwing eachother in front of the others🤭🤭and he’s talking u through it..whispering in ur ear..telling u to be quiet while he’s literally roaming his hands all over u! 😋😋

this is a leeetle bit funny to me bc in real life, sex is the last thing i'd wanna do in a hot tub. But for Miguel..... 😍😍

Wandering Hands

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: Husband!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: You're on a trip away with your husband, Miguel. He gets handsy. (Hot tub sex + Husband!Miguel)

warnings: 18+ , fingering, p in v, instructional, Miguel talks you through it, teeny tiny bit of f!dom, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, very very sappy. Minors DNI

a/n: this is disgustingly sappy and cheesy at some points - I kinda have to apologise in advance. I've had a rough week lmao

very big thank you to my beta reader @tianyhi <33

wc: 2.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wandering hands: Miguel has wandering hands. 

It's your anniversary, and that's the thought you're left with as he kneads your thigh, eyes low at a fancy resort. A resort you practically dragged him to, mind you.  He's a workhorse; absorbed in his job and everything that comes with it. Your husband; diligent and devoted, as always; he needed a break. Somewhere hot, somewhere expensive. It’s what he deserved. And whilst he would never take the initiative to book one for himself, isn't that what a wonderful SO was there for?

To his credit, he's been 'unplugged' since the moment you got here - putting away his work laptop and ignoring all the calls he'd get from overbearing clients. His sole focus for this whole week is you; and he's made that abundantly clear. The lingering looks, gentle touches: everything about him screams love and warmth. And he's all yours - a fact that still sends you spiralling, every now and then. All yours. 

"You're not paying attention, cariño." He says under his breath, swirling the wine under his nose like the man in front of him. 

You're both at a wine tasting, like sophisticated adults (...who had made fun of the idea on the way over). Miguel's wearing pressed trousers that hang on his frame just right, and a tank top underneath an open button-up. The peek of flesh makes you hot under the collar like a Victorian housewife, and you flush when you realise you're staring. Miguel pinches your cheek with a laugh, soothing it with a simple kiss. 

Huffing, you take a sip of the expensive wine without thinking. There’s a gasp from the sommelier, and the small group turns to look at you. Your face heats up when you realise what you’ve done - shirking from the pack of eyes silent with sharp critique. A man beside you taps your shoulder with a slimy smile. 

“Miss, that’s a 1978 Monfortino. It probably costs more than your rent.” 

“...I thought this was a wine tasting. So eventually, we have to… taste. The wine.” Miguel chuckles into his drink, squeezing at your waist. You make a fair point.

The man laughs, smug. “With all due respect, it’s an experience of the senses… maybe this is your first time somewhere with this kind of price tag, but it’s quite rude to-”

Miguel clears his throat, flashing a disarming smile at the man to your side. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, with a dangerous veneer you’ve seen before. The smile he gives before closing a big deal at work, calculated and shiny – when he smells blood in the water. 

“With all due respect, watch your fucking tone.” 

His face drops just as quickly, and he downs the rest of his wine, standing up - hand outstretched to take you with him. Gladly, you follow, click-clacking in your heels and little dress; hand tight around his.

“...Pinche idiota…vete a la verga…smug little-” It’s under his breath, but his intensity makes you giggle. 

In the elevator up to your room, he stews, brow creased in little furrows. A force of habit, he pulls you closer, tucking away a stray strand of hair. With a smile, you knead his temples, smoothing the creases. He visibly softens and leans into your touch.

“You’re on vacation, Miguel. Relax, baby.” 

“S’not that simple.” He grumbles, but chases your lips with his own, regardless.

Defiant, you move at the last moment, chin up in the air.

“No, I’m being serious.” He snakes a hand to your ass, dancing over the hem of your dress. 

"I could think of a few ways to decompress, if you're up for it…" Voice low and silky, want pools at the base of your stomach. 

"Miguelito, the bedroom voice doesn't work on me, anymore." You slather on the charm, batting your eyelashes in a way that makes him laugh. He rolls his eyes. 

"Let's do something. I think…I think the spa's still open? We could get a massage-" 

"I don't want a massage unless it's you, baby."

"...or go to the sauna-"

"Didn't pack the right clothes, m'afraid."

"God, don't be mean." It's your turn to roll your eyes. And you whack at his chest, admonishing him gently. "What about the hot tubs?"

He turns his head to the side as if he's deep in thought. Pondering, weighing up the options; when really, the only thought in his head was you in a tiny bikini. 

"If you insist, cariño." 

~~~

The spa isn't too far from your hotel, a stone's throw from the beach. You walk with Miguel in the pleasant evening heat, flip-flops and cover ups light on your back. 

There at the back, open air, behind rows of beach houses and overlooking the sea. You settle into the tubs, each one sectioned by wooden slats and climbing plants - not visible from the main spa, but not completely closed off, either. You can still hear the quiet buzz of other people, although it's not too full this late in the day. 

You slip the light fabric onto the floor, and step out of the cover-up. Miguel, already in the water, watches the light ripple off of your skin. You don't catch him staring, but you feel it. His gaze is heavy as he drinks it in; you are dappled and gorgeous, and his heart is full. You slip in, shuffling up close to him in the dull thrum of the water jets. 

Eyes closed, you rest your head on his shoulder. "You're staring." 

"Yeah." It's so soft, said in the press of warm bodies, that you almost don't hear it. Playfully, he flicks your forehead - in that little triangle between your eyebrows that appears when you're resting. It's cute, he thinks. "...you got a problem with that?"

Laughing, you shake your head. "It's not too much?" 

He moves closer to you, hands on your hips and mouth pressing soft kisses into your neck. 

"The trip, I mean. It was a little last minute, and there was that thing with our passports…" You sigh, turning towards him, hand on his chest to stop him. "I just thought you needed a break. And I know this isn't usually your thing, but I want you to enjoy yourself. If you're not, let me know, and I'll book the first plane out of here, I promise." 

You're looking up at him, clearly worried, and his heart breaks. It's almost as if you've forgotten that an anniversary entails both people, together as one. The truth is, as long as he's with you, and you're having a good time… 

"Doesn't matter where we go, cariño. I'm right where I need to be if I'm with you." He says it like a statement - so matter-of-factly it makes your head spin. Because, you suppose, to him it was a ubiquitous truth: that in every universe, every iteration, the both of you belonged together. What would sound over the top or cheesy coming from someone else, is made so simple by Miguel. A fundamental truth: his home, his happiness, his heartaches and highest highs, were with you, and you alone. 

"Promise me."

"Hand on my heart, baby." He places a palm that spans the crest of his ribcage. "...I promise."

He guides you onto his lap, so your back presses to his. His kisses are so light and airy, you don't notice how his hand creeps towards your thigh and the gentle movement of his hips under yours. 

"You always take care of me," His hand snaps the band of your bikini bottoms, making you writhe on his lap. "Let me return the favour. Relax, cariño."

You nod, gently, eyes blown when you realise what exactly that means. Miguel's large palms dance over your tummy, pinching at the flesh to make you laugh; and then down to your thighs, to paw at them. He shifts, directing you over the jet by the base of the seat, and there is delicious pressure at your clit. 

He cups your pussy under the foam of the water, ripping a heady moan of which you try to subdue. You lean into it: the hand that's now migrated into your bikini, the rock of his hips, and the hickeys he sucks into skin. Coupled with the fact you were in public, he brings you to climax quicker than even he expected. You were so needy, everything about your body telling him you wanted more - needed more. He presses the pad of his finger over your clit, barely there, and you claw at his arms under the water. 

"More?" He coos, dulcet tones brushing the shell of your ear. "Pórtate bien,  okay?" 

So lost in your haze, you don't register the steady padding of a pair of people coming towards you, behind the wooden divider. A head pops over, and you still his wandering hands. 

"Oh, there y'all are!" You see the bronzed face of Jess and her husband, a couple you had met during the trip. She bounces towards you both with dizzying accuracy, donned in a bright swimsuit and sheer cover up around her waist. Her husband is quieter, opting for a nod to Miguel, behind you. 

"Can we join you? Hope we aren't interrupting anything."

Miguel meets your eyes. 

"Is it okay?" He says, a thousand words said in your exchange. We don't have to do anything, it's up to you.

"It's fine," You breathe and then louder, to Jess. "It's fine."

He kisses your forehead and squeezes you closer, shifting so you feel his growing length under his shorts. An action that would seem innocent to a passer-by but below the surface… 

He starts off slow, imperceptible movements as he strokes your clit. It makes you impatient, irritated that he had the audacity to start something he couldn't finish. Or, wouldn't, rather. You make lazy conversation with Jess and her husband; innocuous little things that barely take your mind off of Miguel behind you. 

Some time goes by, and he's somewhat conservative – hand pressed against your pussy like his fingers were made for you. You get used to the pressure, as Jess talks about her day.

"...they're having a sale, as well! We're gonna go back there tomorrow, because, God, there were these earrings that I couldn't take my eyes off of, real gold, and only-" 

"Fuck!" He slips two fingers in, without warning, sinking to the knuckle as your little hole adjusts. Jess pauses, a little confused. 

"I was just…" He scissors them ever so slightly, enjoying watching you squirm. "...t-thinking about how great that deal was. Like… fuck! Real gold!" 

Internally, you wince, hoping she buys it. Jess isn't stupid, but you don't think she knows you well enough to notice your husband fingering you in a hot tub. You hope. 

"Right." She gives you the benefit of the doubt. "Not gold-plated, real gold."

You nod, hoping the foam from the jets is hiding the way you rock into Miguels' fingers. They feel good, curling up into you at that spongy spot he knows too well. 

"There's a good food spot, by the boardwalk. I think they do…" She turns to her husband, who has an arm draped around her. 

"Pasta, baby."

"Pasta! Yes, of course. We had a gorgeous meal and they served mussels, with the dish you were on about, before."

A beat. And then another. There’s a pregnant pause, before Miguel nudges you gently. "Yeah, sorry. It was the… garlick-y… one that had, um…"

You can't concentrate, against his wide torso, his hands between your legs: your brain goes fuzzy. You catch a smile tugging at his lips; and you almost scream. It's cruel, and all he can do is laugh. 

"Miguel's more interested in that stuff, m'afraid." You give her a weak smile, and Miguel rewards you with a thumb to your clit. 

It takes you everything not to jump at the pleasure that rocks your core; and you clamp a hand to his thigh. You make eye contact and he smiles; the smug fuck; gently chattering on with Jess about your trip to a local market, the other day. He's as casual as can be, and seemingly unaffected. 

You try your hardest to nod and smile where necessary; giving simple answers that wouldn't require much thought. In the cool night air, the conversation is pleasant enough, but your husband insists on stretching out your orgasm – watching for the tell-tale signs and pulling away. It's a game of cat and mouse; and whilst you just want to get off, Miguel takes pleasure in the chase. 

"We should be heading off, I think." Jess says after a while. "Just wanted to catch up with you two."

Miguel smiles, dizzying and innocuous. "We're happy to, Jess."

They slip out with a splash, and she nods towards you. "You ok, sweetheart? You just seem a bit out of it, today."

Perhaps too hastily, you nod. "I think…I t-think it was something I ate."

"Oh." She looks a little worried, and it makes you feel guilty. "You get better then. I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Thanks, Jess." And with that, they make their way out. 

Once out of sight, Miguel speeds up, his other hand on your thigh to wrench your legs open. The speed makes you dizzy, melting with your head back on his shoulder and desperately humping his hand for some relief. The rock and slosh of water over tiles barely registers in your fog. 

As you moan and writhe, he whispers filth into your ear. 

"Quieter, cariño. What if someone hears?" You whine and all he does is chuckle, lowly. "What if they find you, spread on my lap, fucking yourself on my fingers?" 

"You're being mean."

"Eso no es justo, amor." He titters, shaking his head. "You told me to relax, no? This is how I want to relax." 

Tears prick at your eyes, as he uses his other hand to rub circles into your clit, the warm froth washes over you both, but all you can feel is him. 

"¿Dime que quieres, hermosa?" What do you want?

"M'close, Miguel." You bite down another moan. “I’m ready.”

"Want to feel it, baby. Cum for me."

You tilt your head to the side, and he captures your lips with his own – in awe as you clamp around his fingers. Grinding down on his crotch, you ride out your orgasm. The way he makes you feel is hot, and wet and filthy. 

When your shaking legs still, you turn around to face him. He's hard, and too much of a gentleman to take his own pleasure. You slip a hand into his shorts, hand hot against his cock. It's his turn to lean into the bliss: head back and lips slightly parted with pleasure. 

You've always liked his lips, plump and kissable, a pretty pink that just fits against yours. 

"You're teasing." He hisses softly. 

You scrape your nails along his chest, and he keens, clutching your hand close to his heart. 

"...and what exactly have you been doing all night?“ You make a tight ring with your fingers, squeezing his tip and his hips jump up. 

"Vale, vale, vaaale…." He paws at you waist, a little desperate. "Fuck- I get it."

You give him a kiss, wet and needy, before slipping the gusset of your bikini to the side and sinking down on his length. He cries out and you swallow it, pressing yourself even closer to him. With your tits against his chest like that, he can't think straight. You shift against his length, finding a steady rhythm but it's too slow – and Miguel grows impatient. With a growl, he places both hands on your hips, forcing you downwards as you writhe on his length. 

"Dámelo, dámelo…" He slams his cock into you - hard and fast and just the way you like it. "Just like that, baby, just like-" 

That growing coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you clamp around him. But he doesn't stop, just fucks you through it until he cums, hot and sticky fluids spilling into you. Panting, you capture him into a kiss. You separate, and he's got a dopey smile on his face. 

Content. Relaxed, even. 

~~~

Jess calls you the morning after, and you answer. 

"Hey, everything ok?" You yawn into the receiver, a little tired from last night's activities.

"I said I would call, didn't I?" 

You hum. "...suppose you did."

"You feeling better now Miguel's not playing with your pussy in a hot tub?" 

Shit. You almost drop the phone. "Jesus, we didn't-" 

"Save. It." She grumbles something you can't quite hear; something you suspect you're better off not hearing, anyways. 

"...Sorry. We weren't really thinking."

"Damn straight." She pauses. "I'm not mad, sweetheart. Can’t even judge you, to be honest. As I always say, it's not a real vacation until you fuck your husband somewhere you shouldn't-" 

"Gross, Jess."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did the woman who got fingered in a hot tub just say something??" 

You wince at the vulgarity of her words. 

"....Ouch." 

She laughs into the speakerphone, and you join her. Besides you, Miguel stirs, a little smile on his face. Half asleep, he thinks he’s heard an angel, voice light and airy in the space of your hotel room.

_

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @tea-earl-grey-thot

[whiskeyskin]

This

Premise: Astarion begins to understand how hellish it is catching feels.

• Astarion x afab!Tav • 18+ • M rating • MDNI

Astarion's POV, reference to blood feeding, warmth and comfort, hating the fact he's falling, light PinV, lotus pose, sensual, romantic, playful, past trauma's getting in the gods damned way, reliving bad memories, understand, love, deciding not to have sex, feels

2.6k words

Thank you to @casualya for this beautiful picture 😍💜

•°•°•

Astarion gasped, his mouth and throat coated in their delicious blood. So decatent, so warming and sweet. He felt intoxicated by it. A smile curled across his lips, still breathing heavily, mouth open.

"Can you taste the whiskey?" Tav asked, through a murmur of light-headedness and amusement.

Astarion hummed in appreciation against their soft, taut skin. He adored the way they smelled after he fed. Like warm lust, soft bedding and comfort on a rainy day.

He hated it.

Especially when they softly rubbed his back in soothing circles, making his resolve wane further.

His eyelids drooped as he slowly blinked against the lulling feeling of being with them like this. Naked and intimate but with no immediate threat of sex.

"I can," he licked his lips, catching drops of their taste in the creases of his mouth, "Is that why you taste especially warming tonight, my dear?"

He lazily dragged his tongue over the two slowly oozing pierce marks; the evidence of his condition inflicted on another.

Tav shuddered and grazed the back of his neck to lightly fist and twirl his hair. Astarion grasped the Amulet of Silvanus around his neck, muttered the incantation and the tent flooded with blue healing energy.

Tav's naked chest pressed against his own as they inhaled deeply, carried by the spell's energy. They sighed out and peppered kisses against his forehead to the side of his cheek, their skin now feeling similar temperature, instead of his usual cool against their warmth.

There they sat, facing each other in relaxed embrace, Tav's splayed legs hooked over his own. The rhythm of Tav's breathing a sweet lullaby as he closed his eyes, leaning his temple against theirs in complete bliss.

It was awful.

All he'd wanted was a little promise of protection. For them to fall for his manipulations and honeyed words. To use his extraordinary talents and devastating good looks to his own advantage for a little tet au tet. Sex for protection.

Not this. Not kindness and understanding. Not feeling rested and nurtured and important. Feeling safe, truly safe with them. With all of their tadpoled rabble, in fact.

He could feel the warmth radiating off their core as they sat like this, the blood he'd drained from them headed only one possible place.

He could smell them. The allure of their sex. Their want and need for him. Their siren's call to sheath himself fully inside them. But with Tav, there was the safety of knowing that it need not go any further than this, unless he wanted it.

While they didn't understand the full severity of his complicated relationship with sex, they were acutely aware of it and always insisted on his unabashed consent and when it wasn't, they'd simply dressed themself, said goodnight and left for their tent.

It had left him flabbergasted.

That was the most erotic part of sex with Tav for him. The he had that power. That control to say "No" and they would obey.. listen.. allow it.

He wouldn't be forced to go through with it. Wouldn't be compelled to do it. Wouldn't do it to avoid lashings. They would simply get dressed and leave for their own bunk.

However that stint ended the first night Tav had suggested to sit like this together while feeding, for the sake of intimacy; completely naked, with no sex at all. They'd walked out of tent without a word, leaving him unexpectedly frustrated.

He'd riled himself wild the rest of the next adventuring day with the notion of fucking with free-will, that they'd been fucking every night since in some fashion, or another.

The freedom to have sex only, and if only, he wanted to but to still have the electricity of the warm up act? He could feel himself growing harder with the thought.

"Should I ignore it?" Tav whispered against the shell of his ear.

Astarion swallowed, traces amounts of the blood still present. He pulled them even closer, the head of his cock jutting against their swollen lips. Tav made a small gasp, then he felt a small smile against his skin before a kiss was pressed there.

"Tell me we don't have to.." he started, and fanned his fingers out across their back.

"Never. We never have to do anything unless you want to." Tav answered, shaking their head softly.

Astarion's eyes fluttered closed, "Tell me you'll leave if I asked you to." He said, trying to suppress a moan, as his fingers dug against the musculature of their back.

"Without question." They replied. Astarion squeezed his eyes shut tighter and bit his lip.

This. This was something he'd never had. Freedom to say no.

He'd hadn't experienced this, not in over 200 years. Someone who respected his choices, his opinions. Someone who empowered him to take chances in his own abilities, to find confidence in new skills. Someone that he found himself searching for in a crowded place. Someone that openly gave themselves to him without expecting anything in return. Someone who he.. cared for.

Gods below.

"Do you want me to leave?" Tav asked, their tone non-threatening and understanding.

Astarion shook his head and pressed his face into the crook of their neck - his safe place, his haven.

It was Hell.

He pulled them even closer, the bedroll unbunching as he lifted them higher on his thighs and spread their sweet lips apart.

His hard length glided from their clit to their entrance and gently prodded, their hole twitched against the intrusion then relaxed.

Tav breathed a moan and leaned back their head, exposing their neck to him again. Both of them began to writhe with miniscule movement, rocking against each other.

His cock butted from the position he'd tried to suavely place himself in and slid wetly up the length of their vulva.

They chuckled breathless and contented, "Why does sex never go as smoothly as it does in novels and verse?" Tav mused, tilting their head in amusement.

He softly snorted a laugh and burned the brand of his kiss against their clavicle, then smirked out the side of his mouth, "Indeed, my love. I need a little help it seems."

He gently thrust upwards, his cock gliding against their pink, glistening lips, so they would understand what he meant.

"Picking at the lock but need an extra hand to open it?" Tav laughed softly, reaching between them to gently push his length into the correct angle for this position. Astarion flexed his thighs to afford more space and lift them higher.

Their wet folds made deliciously slick noises as his cock slid into place and his head was engulfed by their tight entrance.

They both gasped, their breath mingling as they moaned together. Tav bit their lip and gently rolled their hips to tease his tip, to sucker and release as he barely entered them.

Suddenly, he was plagued with his well practised, tired and loathsome feeling of revulsion and hatred. He tried to push it back, to contain it to the subconscious part of his brain.

He pulled himself back, to look down at the sensation. A low twang of lust to hit in his belly watching the head of his cock disappearing into their waiting vagina, massaging and teasing him.

Tav's hand was resting on his lower abdomen to keep him in place, the other wrapped around his neck.

"You feel so good, my darling."

Tav smiled seductively, but said nothing.

Again, the feeling of revulsion reared up inside him, filling his throat with bile. He shook his head against it, snorting breath through his nose.

"Tell me it feels good, Tav."

"Always, Star."

Tav slid their hand from the back of his neck to delicately capture his jaw, feather light and soft. He leaned in desperately, folding in on himself to get closer.

He was taken back to the palace, to that bedroom.. to the hundreds of faceless underneath, or on top of him.

He gritted his teeth, and strained against it. He blinked back the visions, willing himself through it. He just needed to get through it and everything would be fine. He just needed to find another way through it than his usual routine of disgust and revulsion at what he was doing.

It wasn't a victim, not another body to appease Him. It was Tav. It was..

"We can stop-" came Tav's voice, concern tinged their tone.

"-No," he protested, "Don't you dare." He warned with a devilish snarl, kissing them deeply, tongue lashing with theirs.

He wouldn't be beaten by it. Wouldn't let Cazador keep ruining his life.

Astarion gripped then curve of Tav's ass to pull them toward him, to make them full with his cock but they dug in their heels to stop him.

"Wait, let me.." they trailed off, leaning themselves backwards with one arm to give then leverage.

They rolled their hips upwards in languid circles, using their strength to hold themselves up higher.

Astarion stared down at their meeting. His pale purple head dipping shallowly into their hot, pink cunt. Their combined slick glistening as his tip reappeared from their entrance. He almost swallowed his own tongue.

He never looked at it before Tav. Where the sexes met. It disgusted him. Why would he. He would always look away, or look between the mark's eyebrows. Never in the eyes and never watched how bodies moved with him.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? How I envelope around you, welcome you inside me?"

"Y-yes.. my d-darling," Astarion struggled, feeling his cock thicken as he stared down at Tav's inviting folds.

It felt like he was being choked from desire as the feeling sent electricity through his hips and down to his toes. The slow, deliberate friction suckering against his most sensitive part.

However, despite his efforts, the elation was soon tainted by nausea and self-loathing.

Gods he wanted to be normal. To experience and enjoy sex the way you're supposed to. To have the ability to relish in the delights of the carnal, not to be repulsed by them.

He wanted it desperately. Almost as much he wanted Cazador dead. He wished he could give himself fully without the baggage and hurt and trauma he carried.

They deserved more than him. Deserved to be with someone that could make them truly happy. That didn't come with emotional scars that dug so deep they'd never fully heal.

What could he possibly have to offer, except his exceptional ability in bed?

He wrapped an arm around Tav to help take the weight and slid them down his cock another inch, to envelop his tip completely.

Tav whimpered and bit their bottom lip.

Pleasure clenched low in his gut and Astarion moaned, and sought out their nipple to suck and bite on. Something tangible, something physical. To keep him present, to keep him centred. Something to show his affection for them, how they made him feel, what they were doing to him; despite his past creating road blocks.

Tav gasped and heaved their chest upward, legs splaying further. Astarion bucked in rhythm to add to motion.

"I adore watching you like this. Spread for me. Moaning just for me.."

It was true. He did. He just desperately wished that the act itself wasn't marred by sickening, cloying hatred.

He was so conflicted. He understood that this was different; the feelings when he was with Tav were unlike anything he'd experienced for those torturous decades, but the other darker side of himself refused to relent it's vice-like grip.

"I'm very happy for you, Star but I'm going to get a cramp if I don't move." Tav chuckled, resting themself back down onto the bedroll, his cock popped out and now felt cold from the lack of warmth.

"Well, can't very well have that, can we?" He mocked with a true playfulness only they brought out in him, "Shall we change positions in a very sexy and alluring manner, my dear?"

"Oh, not our usual tangle of limbs and curse words that come from us trying to extracate ourselves?"

"Perish the thought. I'm a consummate professional."

"Professional bastard."

"That too."

They giggled softly within each others embrace, then pressed a familiar kiss. Astarion lingered just a second longer than they did before Tav scooched themselves back and stretched out their legs, groaning.

"Ugh, I swear this adventuring lark is tough on the old bones." They complained, impersonating an elder in the warbling tone.

"Your bones are hardly old, mine are far older than yours."

"Your bones are also Elven and Vampiric, and therefore immortal. So yank those reigns, Grandfather." They sassed, pointing and flexing their feet, stretching out their legs. Astarion gave a genuine laugh.

His chest ached. He didn't know why. It was a dull, throbbing ache that seeped warmth into the deep reccesses of his soul.

His brows creased together at the odd sensation and swallowed, embracing it. At least it was different to self-loathing. It was calming but made his body feel like it was struggling for air. He recognised it.. vaguely.. from his early years of enslavement.

Guilt poured over him, dousing the warmth gathered in his chest. Reliving the scant moments of connection and the internal conflict that followed, the fear of disobeying, the desperation of attempted escapes.. the darkness.

"You alright, Star darling? Looking a little peaky, even more peaky than your usual snow white self." They flexed their eyebrows at him with a smirk.

He swallowed, "Oh, yes. I'm fine." His answer was automatic.

Tav's brow twitched, "What is it?" Their tone was soft, light but with a pull of seriousness. Astarion swallowed again, gazing at them, reclined and comfortably naked, in the amber glow of the candlelight.

He couldn't talk about this. Not now. Not yet. He wasn't ready. Not here.. when the world seemed so far away. He had to keep it out. Keep Him out. He wanted to stay in this bubble with them. Inside his tent, in their small patch of nowhere. Not yet. Don't take them away yet.

"Hey, hey.. talk to me. You're worrying me now." They leaned up to grip him arms but stopped short - a gesture toward his dislike of being touched when these memories overcame him.

Gods. Why were they so nice to him?

"Absolutely nothing. But are you alright, my dear?" He asked, trying to deflect, "Are we tired? Does the poor, frail human need their rest?" He taunted with a babied voice, lightly pinching at their soft thighs.

"I will end you if you don't stop jiggling my thighs." They threatened emptily, with a grin and a raised brow.

"Beautiful thighs," he objected, shuffling closer to them and pulling them back into him, "I often get lost in thoughts of losing myself between those thighs." He flashed them a dangerous look, shielding them from the horrors beneath.

He just wanted to return to their previous engaged activity; he wouldn't let his past win.

He wanted to bury himself deep within them and paint their walls. Claim them. He wanted to stay inside them as they lay in the afterglow, warming his cock and keeping his seed pressed within.

But at the same time, he wanted none of that.. because it was all tainted. Even though it was with Tav. It still.. hurt.

He palmed the curve of their hips beneath the splay of his hands, up to their waist and down the cup of their behind. He took the meat of their thigh and brought it to his mouth. He sucked and kissed at their smooth skin.

"And I have also fantasied about you between my legs." They admitted, as nonchalantly as if they were discussing the weather, "whether it's your cock, or your mouth. It doesn't matter which. Although, when it's your mouth, it shuts you up for a while, so that's a massive boon." They smirked, as Astarion caught up with the joke quickly and squeezed at their soft flesh to tickle them.

They writhed and laughed together, as Tav protested between cackles, while he dared them to repeat.

Breathless from enjoyment and glee, they laid back, settled into each others arms. The last titters rumbling, as they coiled limbs around each other.

Several moments of silence passed easily around them. Tav's breathing soothing him once more, bringing him back to the calm, chasing away all thoughts of his tormented past.

"I do adore laying with you like this, when it's just us and.. it's just us." A quiver strained his voice, a strange gripping sensation held his chest and threatened to surge outward but he caught the feeling and held it tightly before it overcame him.

Gods, not this level of Hell again.

"Mm, me too." They whispered, gently stroking his forearm.

A few more wordless moments passed before them, "Star, is it alright if we don't have sex tonight?"

Astarion's head jerked, an oxymoronic wave of relief, surprise and disappointment tumbling over him, "Of course, if that's what you want?" He propped himself up on his elbow.

They nodded, scrunching up their nose, "It is, yeah. I'm quite sore and bruised. Apparently Silvanus' blessing doesn't extend to aching bones and tender vaginas," They shot out a giggle together, "I'm not used to having sex every night. It's a lot for me," They made an uneasy face, "It's why I wasn't letting you in any further than the tip, if I'm being completely honest. Are you disappointed?"

"Well, naturally I am a little.. but.. well.." He looked into their warm eyes, and it's glow radiated into him, "If we're being honest with each other; I'm a little relieved. I wouldn't mind a break."

"Oh, thank god." They breathed with a sigh of relief, smiling widely.

"You don't have to sound so elated." He teased, with faux indignation.

"No, no. It's not that. It's just.. I didn't want to come up short in the bedroom for you. I mean, you're used to a lot of sex and-"

"Darling," He stopped them with a hand, "Consent flows both ways, you know? If you're not feeling it, tell me for God's sake!"

Tav's unease dissolved in front of this eyes, "Thank you, love."

Tender fingers reached for his chin and he willingly followed them down for another sweet kiss.

"Also, you're not going to believe this but I was maybe doing the same with you. I didn't want to let down the fantasy of being with a Rakeish Vampire."

"So, we've both been competing with our own ego's and projected expectations, even though the other was feeling similarly?" Said Tav plainly, pointing out the irony.

Astarion nodded and Tav laughed without humour.

"Well, I suppose that's why they say communicating is key to a good relationship." They shrugged, giggling gently.

A relationship.

Is that what this was?

He'd not been in a "relationship" since well before his turning.

Was that what the warmth inside him had been trying to tell him? Had his cold, dead heart been beating during this time they'd spent together and he hadn't thought to notice it?

Had he developed.. feelings right under his own nose?

Gods below.

"What? You've gone all quiet and pensive again." They rubbed his shoulder to pull him from his stupor.

"I have?" He blinked.

"Yes, you do it a lot," They twirled a curl between their fingers and shaped it around his ear.

Suddenly his vision started to blur, and instead his mind was filled with their first time at the Tiefling party. They'd done exactly the same. He was still inside them, and therefore still dissociated from the event. They'd pulled him back by fixing a stray curl. He'd smiled in genuine affection at the motion.

And in the Crèche. They'd just finished the gruelling fight against the Inquisitor, the others had been looking for an escape away from the main entrance, where the Githyanki hoard waited. Tav had walked over to him to check on his wellbeing, and absent-mindedly stroked a blood-soaked curl out of his face.

And the Underdark. In the Sussur Grove. They'd told him how beautiful he looked bathed in the light of the magnificent arcane tree. That was the first time he'd kissed them. Truly kissed them. Without a plan, or manipulative word. He'd just wanted to kiss them. They'd threaded his hair around their fingers at the nape of his neck into a tight curl that he'd tried to keep pristine.

The gesture was so gentle, so miniscule, so innocuous, yet so monumentous to him; a simple thing that brought up not nightmares from his past, but treasured memories from their time together. Moments not drenched in hate and fear, but in adoration and affection.

"What is it you're thinking about with that particular facial expression, I wonder." They traced a faint scar on his shoulder, smiling up at him.

Gods, he wanted to say it. Could he say it? Was he even capable of it..

Eventually, he said, "I am used to a lot of sex but it's sex that I didn't want."

Tav paused, their eyes searched his face, and raised a hand to cup his cheek. He leaned into it like a cat rubbing against it's favourite human.

"I didn't have anything, not even my own body. I did as I was told for so long, I'd quite forgotten what it was like to want."

Astarion scrunched up his face, emotion from uncharted territory replacing the repugnant bile that once fought it's way out. He placed his hand on top of theirs and brought their palm to his mouth, pressing a firm, almost desperate kiss.

"This," he started, staring down at the person he'd willingly die for, "this is what I want."

Tav's eyes began to fill, as they pursed their lips over their smile to conceal it and failed miserably. They brought their other hand to his cheek and brushed away a tear he hadn't realised had fallen, thumbing another away with the other.

"I know. Me too."

They gently pulled him down to lay with them, wrapping arms and legs together, melted into each other.

They fit perfectly together; a practised position of theirs.

His favourite position of theirs.

Tav gently kissed his forehead and held him closer, twirling their favourite curl behind his ear. They soaked into each other, perfectly in-sync. Bodies and minds intertwined and existing in pure harmony and peace.

His haven. His safe place.

Shit.

•°•°•

Room for more? There's always time for more smut and sweetness 😜

[scarletttries]

Adrian Chase/ Vigilante Fluff Alphabet (Peacemaker)

Pairing: Adrian Chase/ Vigilante (Peacemaker) x GN!Reader

Rating: Pure Fluff

Word Count: 4.3k

Author's Note: Back to the boy that made me start writing again after years of stopping! 😍 I've been struggling to write while i've been busy with a new job and a bit of a cold, so I thought I'd go back to my best boy Vigilante for another alphabet post and just like that my heart was racing for him again 💕Enjoy and let me know if you have any Vigilante HCs requests 🥳

a -affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

The moment Adrian gets the green light to show affection to you, that's all he can think of. He is such a physical person, always finding a reason to place a hand on your back or waist in public, and pulling you into his arms and threatening to never let you go after you have to spend mere moments apart. Behind closed doors, Adrian is constantly showering your face and hands with kisses, and there's no way he can sleep without a long slow good night kiss. He's also all about the sickly sweet nicknames and praising you for everything you do for him, just so endlessly grateful that he gets to call you his.

b - beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do you think is beautiful about them?)

It sounds like a cliche, but honestly he thinks you have the most beautiful eyes. He's never been a big fan of eye contact, finding it challenging to maintain, and when he manages usually people are looking at him with such an unkind mix of pity, disgust and contempt that he'd rather they weren't looking at him at all. But when he locks eyes with you and sees kindness, and interest, and not a single ounce of judgement, he knows that he never wants to look away from your perfect face, not for a second. And when he gets to see your eyes crease in the corners when he makes you smile and laugh with his ridiculous behaviour, well he thinks you are somehow even more beautiful.

There's a lot to consider beautiful about Adrian, his muscles, his adorable hair, his little nerdy smile when you start to pay attention to him, honestly there's nothing about him you'd ever want to change.

c- cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

Adrian likes to cuddle so much he wonders how he survived before you came into his life! The first time the two of you watch a movie together and you throw a blanket over you both, laying your legs over his lap and nuzzling against his chest, you could practically hear his heart hammering away in excitement, so happy to be there with you and so scared he would do something to ruin such a happy moment. Now that he's more comfortable about your relationship he's definitely the one to instigate, collapsing into bed with his arms wide open and whimpering until you land on his chest, his whole body encircling yours as he kisses the top of you and tells you're stuck there now.

d - dates (what are dates with them like? do they plan them out or are they spontaneous?)

Adrian is definitely more of the spontaneous type who'll turn up at your door unannounced with a bouquet of flowers or a crate of beer, and ask if you'll please go out with him tonight, and offer that's hard to refuse when he gives you those big pleading puppy dog eyes. Dates are a lot of fun, usually doing something a bit more silly and childish than the typical dinner and a movie. He'll take you to an arcade, or a bar with a mechanical bull and try and show off his skills for you, but sometimes the best dates are just nights at home with wine and takeout, where you realise that it's suddenly 3am and you've ended up in a blanket fort on the floor and decide to just spend the night there - you two would be happy just about anywhere as long as you're together.

e - ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

In the past Adrian hasn't exactly had a lot of dating experience, but if someone showed an interest in him and he didn't feel the same way, he'd be very blunt about it - not necessarily as sensitive as he should be, but making sure there is absolutely no room for misunderstanding.

f - fiancee (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

Deep down (like way deep down before he meets you) Adrian is a real hopeless romantic. You've seen how much friendship means to him, and he knows being married is like having the closest of best friends, to love you forever, and who wants to be your friend for the rest of your life. He can't imagine anything more special than that, but he's also never had someone he felt like he could picture that kind of relationship with. Then of course you come into his life and fill it with kindness and laughter and warmth and suddenly he struggles to keep the l-word from falling of his lips every time you hold his hand, and he starts keeping a ring in his pocket for the moment he's at least 50% sure you might say yes.

g - gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Despite a violent streak and almost superhuman strength, Adrian would be so incredibly soft and gentle when it comes to you. He knows what it's like to have you feelings hurt again and again and he never wants to make you feel as awful as he does when he speaks to someone other than you. He'd make sure he never delivered his snark in your direction, and is quick to tell you how smart your ideas are, supporting you in whatever you want to do. Physically he'd try and be conscious of his strength too, holding your hand very softly, and giving only the nicest, gentlest touches to your face when the two of you kiss. Sometimes he'll get a little too excited though and lift you into the air, throwing you against a bed or pulling you into a hug that threatens to take your breath away.

h - hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do if? what are their hugs like?)

Adrian loves when you hug him so so much. The first time he feels you wrap your arms over his shoulders and pull him against your chest, a lump forms in his throat and he's not sure why, everything feeling so overwhelming as you tell him you're glad he came back from a mission safely. He'd think of nothing else for days, considering putting himself in increasingly dangerous situations just so you might have a reason to hug him. In the end he decides to just walk into your arms the next time he sees you, and surely enough you respond by giving him a firm squeeze and stroking his head as it rests on your shoulder. He'll always be asking for hugs now that you two are item, pulling you into his arms if he thinks it's been too long since you last gave him his fix.

i - injury (how would they act if they got hurt?)

At first when Adrian gets hurt around you, he plays it off as if he barely notices it, wanting to seem cool and tough and making sure you don't feel too worried about him. Even when he's bragging about how quickly he'll be healed up and back to normal, you still insist on cleaning up his cuts, and as you gently lift his chin with your finger and take such precious care delicately cleaning any wounds that haven't healed themselves yet, he'll kick himself for not letting you do this more often, being the focus of your attention, his favourite place to be. He'll quickly start acting like more and more of a baby when he gets hurt, insisting that you and only you patch him up, working up the nerve to ask you to kiss that little cut on his lip better.

When you get hurt, holy shit does this boy panic. He doesn't know how serious any pain is in someone who doesn't heal like him, so he constantly offers to drive you to the hospital, not calming down until you give him a little task to do instead so he can feel helpful.

j - jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they're jealous?)

Despite being such an objectively incredibly gifted person physically, Adrian has had a tough time making people like him in his life, which leaves him feeling pretty insecure about himself. So when he sees someone he thinks is a lot more 'normal' than him talking to you, he can't help but feel distraught that they can offer you a better life than he ever could. He thinks he is the luckiest person in the world for having landed someone as perfect as you, so it makes sense that his luck would run out at some point, forcing himself to at least slink over and find out a bit more about the person that's come to take you away from him. When you feel him approach, looking a bit sorry for himself, you make sure to tug his arm around your waist and introduce him as your boyfriend with the proudest smile you can, watching as his eyes brighten at the sound of your voice and a matching smile grows on his cheeks as he plants a huge kiss on yours.

Thankfully Adrian is probably too oblivious for anyone else to flirt with him, so you'll only experience jealousy when he talks devotedly about Peacemaker.

k- kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to be kissed?)

Oh my god, the first time you kiss Adrian, the vigilante has never been more caught off guard in his life. It doesn't matter how much flirting you've done, how many times your loving gaze has flicked between his eyes and his lips, the moment you press a soft, sweet peck to his little pouting lips, his brain is completely shutting down. Even the slightest kiss is so special to him that he thinks it's more likely you did it by accident than you actually want him to kiss you too. It will take you explicitly explaining that you have feelings for him and that you want to kiss him before he feels able to kiss you too, and by then he's smiling so widely he needs ten minutes to calm down before he even can.

Once you pass the newfound territory of little pecks whenever he sees you, moving to more intimate, open-mouthed, fingertips trailing through hair, full-bodied kissing behind closed doors, Adrian is like a man possessed. His usually very active mouth is finally quiet long enough to capture yours, pulling you into his lap where he can feel your full weight lean against him, a hungry marathon of sloppy kisses capturing your lips, moaning against you in overwhelming excitement. You can try and move your lips to his neck and mark him as your own, but as much as he loves the feelings of you bruising his skin, he finds himself whimpering until he can taste your sweet kiss again.

l - love language (what is their love language?)

Adrian likes to show and receive love through touch, the way he constantly keeps a hand on you as a reminder he's nearby and watching your back is his way of showing love all day. And when you lean in for a kiss and place your hand on his thigh, his heart feels like it's being wrapped in a soft woolen blanket, letting him know how much you truly care for him.

He loves to do little acts of service for you as well, like tidying things up around you if you've cooked him dinner, or picking something up on his way over to you because you mentioned being low of it last time he visited - he feels so at home with you, that he wants you to feel like your home is better for him being a part of it.

As well as the undeniable thrill he gets from the way you touch him, he's also a real sucker for words of affirmation. He's rarely been on the receiving end of kind words, and the important people in his life often seem embarrassed to acknowledge him and admit to knowing him, so when you unashamedly say you love him in front of the whole team, or call him your boyfriend when you pick him up from his day job, or tell him that something he's done is good and helpful, he feels over the moon and loved to his core.

m - mornings (how are mornings spent with them?)

Adrian feels like the kind of guy who is constantly a ball of pure energy. He wakes up fully alert and stacked to the brim with enthusiasm when he opens his eyes and has woken up next to his favourite person in the whole world. He wants so desperately to be considerate and let you rest, but he can't stop himself from practically vibrating with glee at the mere sight of you. He'll leave it as long as he can take it before he gently traces a finger over your skin, his heart fluttering from the tiny bit of contact before finally your eyes flutter open to the biggest smile you've ever seen. Once you're awake be prepared to get tackled into a huge hug, his mouth suddenly racing at a thousand words a minute telling you how much he missed you while he was asleep and how pretty you are in the morning and how even your snoring is cute. He could happily stay in bed with you forever, so you'll have to be the one to drag him out of bed and into the kitchen for breakfast, where he'll continue clinging to you for dear life.

n - nights (how are nights spent with them?)

Adrian's always been a night owl, given so much of his patrols and missions take place at night. He much prefers the nights he spends with you though, trying to find a few hours of peace in an otherwise chaotic life. He likes that it's time that the two of you usually get to spend alone together, curled up in each other's arms with no plans you don't want and nowhere else you need to be except together. When you two crawl into bed, he loves to lay in the dark and just look at your features in the dimmest of moonlight, telling you his silliest thoughts, and some of the deep ones he feels too vulnerable to say with the lights on, never letting you fall asleep without a reminder of how much you mean to him and how much happier his life is with you in it.

o - open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Adrian has absolutely no filter when it comes to talking about his life, telling you everything you want to know, and a bunch of stuff you didn't even ask long before the two of you have even been on a date. In his mind, you're one of the first people that's ever seemed genuinely interested in him, and he wants to make the most of that before he inevitably reveals something about himself that will scare you off like he does with everyone else. The one thing he'd struggle to come out and tell you initially is just how much you mean to him. The feelings are so new and scary that he's sure there's no way you could feel the same, so you would have to be the one to put yourself out there and let him know he's bewitched your whole heart.

p - patience (how patient are they usually? what tends to wear their patience thin?)

Thanks to all his training, patrolling, staking out locations, and worst of all having to work in a restaurant, Vigilante is surprisingly patient. He's more than happy to wait forever if it makes things less stressful for you, and he'd give up every second of his time to help you do something, he really is just that devoted. He only starts to get impatient when the two of you are apart, and it feels like his soul is aching to get back to your arms.

q - quality time (how do they like to spend with you?)

At first Adrian feels a lot of pressure to always be having the exciting kind of fun with you, suggesting lots of different date ideas and never wanting you to have a dull moment around him. It would take a bit of work for you to have him get used to just spending a night in with you, cuddled up together and doing very little, finally getting the idea in his head that you could never get bored of him. He still prefers to go out for dates with you most of the time, loving sitting at a bar or diner with someone who only wants to be with him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't adore the days the two of you spend every hour just talking in bed about nothing.

r - remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

Because of the need to protect his identity, most of Adrian's interactions (even some of the most intimate ones) have been from behind his helmet, leaving him feeling a lot less confident in his face than he is in the rest of his body. Given you met him as Vigilante first, he was worried that you were disappointed the first time you saw the face under his mask, unable to read your expression by the time he put his glasses back on. He'd be very happy that your feelings for him grew despite that, but there would always be a voice in the back of his head that thought you liked him better with his helmet on.

So the first time the two of you were locked in your usual prolonged make out sessions and you hinted at going further than kissing, he immediately made the offer before you could ask for it;

"Do you want me to put my helmet back on?" The question would stop you dead in your tracks, trying to read his almost apologetic expression as you replied.

"That would make it pretty difficult to kiss you." You watched his eyes drift down to your lap as he struggled to make his case.

"But it means you only have to look at the best parts of me." His muscles seem to flex beneath you as if to assume that's what you want from him, the parts of him he can't work out feeling like a short-coming.

"I think every part of you is the best Adrian." His eyes snap up at your words, searching your gaze for deception or mocking and finding nothing but sweetness. "And I love your face." You trace a finger over his features as if considering each one and coming to only the happiest conclusion, "I like your eyes, and your glasses, and your nose, and your smile, and you're a good kisser, so overall your face is pretty damn important to me." With each soft touch he feels years of insecurity melt away, any self doubt dissolving under your loving gaze until he can't stand to not be kissing you a second longer, lifting you into his arms as he does and carrying towards the bedroom as quickly as his legs can manage after you've all but turned them to jelly.

s - security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

Adrian knows just how dangerous the world can be (although a big chunk of that danger comes from him personally) so he would feel incredibly protective of you from the first time you met. He likes being able to use his strength and skills to keep you safe, and make you feel like you're secure as long as he's around you, wanting to give you every reason to keep him close. He'd insist on escorting you everywhere he could, keeping an arm around you once he feels able to touch you that way. He feels especially lucky when you let him sleep over and he can watch over you while you sleep, making sure you have only the sweetest dreams.

It may not feel like you can do too much to protect a man like Vigilante, but everything you do makes him feel like nothing in the world can get to him. Your loving words and supportive encouragement protect him from the cruel teasing of others, and he knows that his sensitve heart is safe now that it belongs to you.

t - try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Adrian's waited a long time to have someone finally feel the way you do about him, and he would want to go out of his way every single day to show you how much he appreciates it. His efforts might sometimes come from a strange direction or be a bit misguided, but you will never feel like he takes you for granted, and he'll never be the kind to let an occasion pass without marking it. He'd love putting in effort every day with you, because the domestic life the two of you build together would make him so happy that doing the smallest jobs in your little home would feel like such an honour.

u - upset (how do they act when you're upset? how do they act when they're upset?)

Vigilante doesn't get upset very often, so when he does it's very easy to notice. The big warning sign is that he'll get very quiet, a real contrast to his usual monologue of adoration. He doesn't usually tell you what's wrong until you ask, worried about burdening you with something silly, but when you pull his head against your chest and rub his back softly, all his feelings will come pouring out, suddenly feeling so much lighter when he has your reassurance.

When you're upset Adrian is very quick to assume he's done something wrong, so he would be very quick to try and make up for it. It would be hard to stay sad about anything as he runs around desperately parading gifts in front of you and telling all his worst jokes until eventually you reassure him that you still love him and that it's something else bothering you, at which point he would collapse and cuddle you and make sure you had all your favourite things for as long as you need. (although the jokes don't stop)

v - vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

Adrian's owned the same four outfits for his entire adulthood and never really thinks about the way he looks out of his vigilante costume. He works out a lot and feels pretty good about that, but when you gently push his glasses up the bridge of his nose first thing in the morning, leaving a kiss of the bridge of it and beaming up at him, he'd start to feel pretty good about his looks too.

w - wildcard (a random headcanon for them.)

One of Adrian's favourite things in the world is when you come and pick him up from his day job at Fennel Fields. Sometimes he feels like his colleagues think he's a weird loser and he can't tell them anything else about himself for fear of giving his identity today (since he's kind of terrible at lying) so he can start to feel quite down about himself when he has his shifts there. Luckily all it takes is a split second glimpse of you as he's clearing his final tables for the day, and suddenly he feels like the biggest hero in the galaxy, racing to get finished so he can practically sprint out the door and into your arms. Sure it doesn't hurt if his colleagues see that he has an incredible partner who cares enough about him to come meet him after work, but what they think stops mattering to him the second he's basking in the light of your presence.

x - x-ray (how easily are they able to read you?)

He's reasonably oblivious when it comes to reading just about anyone, and unfortunately that can apply to you too. You have to be pretty careful about telling him when you're being sarcastic or when he's done something you don't like, but luckily he's very quick to ask questions and check in with how you are, so the two of you would quickly find the best way to communicate.

y - yuck (what things do you do that they hate?)

Sometimes Adrian worries about the way you see the best in people, his black and white view of the world telling him that most people can't be trusted. That and when you break even the tiniest law (jaw-walking, speeding slightly, parked on double yellows for five seconds to pick him up) and he'd have to face his own hypocrisy because he knows he could never punish you.

z - zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Adrian wakes up a lot in the night because of how alert he is all the time. He tries to be careful about waking you, but sometimes when he gets up in his head worrying that something will happen to you and he can't get back to sleep, he'll shake you gently by the shoulder until you turn around and let him burrow under the blankets to lie against your chest, suddenly feel so much more at rest when your arms are wrapped around him, sleepily stroking over his back.

[leaentries]

jack hughes x chubby!reader headcanons

a/n- this has been a long time coming. also i want to apologize i’ve been kinda MIA recently, i’ve just been super busy with life!

SFW & NSFW under the cut!

SFW

i’ve discussed this briefly, but i think jack found his love for the chub on accident.

like he never thought he’d be into it, until next thing he knows, he can’t get enough of your rolls and curves

thinks they are so warm and squishy

loves to nestle and bury his face in your plushy tummy cause it’s just so so soft and comfy. definitely the type to lay all his weight on you and take a nap for hours.

you are his favorite place to sleep, so get used to it. he will actually just fall asleep on you everywhere, and i mean everywhere.

he loves your boobs. and everything about them.

how squishy and warm they are, how even though they don’t fit right or look perfect in everything you wear they still somehow manage to poke out a bit. he is super into the way they spill out slightly near the crease of your arm and shoulders. he’s so weak for your tits, bro.

sometimes if you are wearing a low-cut shirt or tank top and your boobs are showing he will literally just poke them

same goes for the cute rolls on your sides. dude loooooves them side rolls. he loves to grab, poke, squeeze, squish, bite, you name it.

his favorite thing is to sneak up behind you and grab your sides and tickle you, what an asshole.

being able to do little domestic things with you has his heart doing flips. like being able to buy groceries with you, cooking you dinner (when he tries), cleaning the apartment, he loves it all

he especially loves being able to wake up with you in the morning. the way your body keeps him warm. he’ll grab your round hips and pull you into his frame as far as you can possibly be. the type of guy to want to crawl into your skin, yk?

he’s just such a softie cuddly love bug when it comes to you. he can go from 😠 to 🥺😍 in a matter of seconds when you walk into the room

although we ALL know that he isn’t just a softie. baby boy knows how to fight. aho can attest to that firsthand.

i dare anyone to say anything bad about you in front of him, he’s immediately jumping to defend you. let someone say something to him on the ice? he’s dropping the gloves and helmet immediately.

his mood depends on your mood. if you’re not happy, he’s not happy. if you’re cranky, he’s cranky. he will do anything to see you happy and see your cute chubby cheeks light up with that gorgeous smile he lives for.

NSFW

as i’ve already established, he loves your tits.

so it’s only natural that he’s very big into playing with your boobs during any kind of sexual act.

BOOB JOBS. he will lose it in 30 secs. ngl he used to get embarrassed about how quickly your boobs could make him cum, until he realized the power trip it gave you and how good you felt that you could do that to him with just your tits.

but don’t worry, just the sight of your heavy breasts covered in his release is enough to get him hard again.

his favorite position is cowgirl. i know, i know, cliche. BUT he gets to feel all your weight on top of him AND see your tits bounce in his face. dude is in heaven.

he loves to hold your hips in place and fuck up into you 😋 he’s just so silly like that

#1 goal is to get you so fucked out to the point where you can’t hold yourself up anymore and collapse into him cause he just loves the feeling of your soft rolls against his stomach and chest.

hickeys, hickeys, and more hickeys. wants to cover you in head to toe with them. disclaimer- you better invest in a good concealer

[diazsdimples]

Hi James!!! Your tags on my 20 question fic post made me smile! You’re a busy guy can’t be reading my ridiculous long fics!! Glad you want to though 😍

Have one of my 100 fic as a bit of a quicker read 😂😂😂

What’s that?”

Eddie pulls his top down. He forgot.

“What?” He plays dumb.

“You got a new tattoo? You didn’t tell me!”

Well no he wouldn’t would he.

“Eddie?”

Hiding it will only make matters worse so he doesn’t. Buck looks.

“They’re heartbeats right? Cute.” Brows crease. Eddie swallows as Buck takes in the tiny initials tattooed next to the two heartbeat patterns inked over his own heart.

Buck’s finger touches the CD then the EB he’s permanently put on his skin.

“Oh.” Blue eyes go wide.

“Yeah.” Eddie waits and when Buck’s lips touch his, his own heart restarts.

🥹🥹🥹 SPOTTY THIS IS ADORABLE!!!!! I absolutely love the idea of either of them getting tattoos to honour the other, it is so so cute and shows their utter devotion for each other. Thank you for sharing this, it was a delightful little thing to read!!!

[prettybabybaby]

Plssss more boxer!Rafe i’m amazed 😍

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: boxer!rafe, fem!ring girl!reader, mild depictions of violence

¡ outer banks masterlist !

"rafe..." you cup his beaten face, a crease in your brows and a pout on your lips. your thumb brushes the bandage you applied on the fresh cut surrounded by a blooming bruise on his cheekbone. his skin is hot and dewy, breathing rough and shallow from the match.

it had been particularly brutal, rafe's fury clear in the way his arms swung and collided with the body of his opponent, harming whatever inch of flesh he could. a scowl was etched on his face all night, deepening as he warmed up, gaze glued to his opponents sleazy advances and wandering eyes.

the more rafe watched you, the more possessive he seemed to get, a hellish fire igniting within him whenever some undeserving loser got a little too close. you were oblivious, of course, giving them the same sweet smile you gave everyone -- except rafe. he had been making progress building trust and affection. your smiles and your tone were now a little softer, your eyes more focused and adoring, your touch somehow gentler as you fixed him up.

he couldn't help the aggression, the strength of his hits fueled by spite for the man who had spoken too flirtatiously. his opponent had managed to throw a few punches but the adrenaline within rafe's body left him unaffected as he swung with unrelenting fervor.

satisfaction filled in his heart when you walked right past the other man, your warm touch taking him away as you always did. he loved it when you doted on him, tended to him like he was all that mattered.

"i'm fine," he murmurs, resting his hand on yours. "s'just a few scratches."

you shake your head, "you were bleeding, again."

"i've got you to take care of me, though, don't i?" he found your eyes, a playful grin on his lips.

you smile and nod, "f'course. i just hate seeing you hurt."

"i'm not," he says. your expression is still skeptical as you sigh, another pout on your pillowy lips and he glances at them. "well," he pauses, "maybe one other place."

he doesn't have to look up to see the worry. "where?"

"here," he says, tilting his head upwards to bring your attention to his recovering split lip.

"oh," you look taken aback. you've never kissed rafe, always pulling a way before his lips could reach yours. you look lost in thought as you stare into his blue eyes. finally your eyes flicker to his lips, taking in the pink color that lines the arches and his enticing, plush bottom lip. rafe watches your pupils grow and the fluttering of your lashes, a bubbling in his stomach.

you're wordless as you lean in, shutting your eyes as your lips brush his with the slightest pressure. you shudder and rafe almost mirrors you as he pushes back into you when you start to pull away, eager to kiss you properly after the taste he had been given.

you taste of artificial cherry, remnants of the bright red sucker you held in your mouth as you followed the moves of the boxers. his tongue invaded your mouth, deepening the dizzying kiss.

his fingers brushed your bare waist and trailed your spine, savoring the feel of your warm skin and the taste of your tongue. you exhaled shakily, beginning to separate your mouths. rafe used his other hand to hold your head near his own, not willing to let you slip too far away.

"much better," he smiles, pleased at the way you look down, embarrassment clear in your features.

[fluffallamaful]

George’s Birthday Kisses

🦙🦙🦙…

better late than ever… 😅 this is a sequel to a wip lmao. i’m sure i’ll finish it at some point, but i’m also sure you’ll be able to fill in the gaps 😍

Summary: The Dream Team are baking a cake for George’s birthday. George is being a menace. Dream leaps at the idea of giving George birthday kisses. George is too ticklish for birthday kisses. SPLENDIDLY PLATONIC

Warnings: tickles

Word Count: shortish

please enjoy omfg

🦙🦙🦙…

The atmosphere in the Dream Team home had never been sweeter, crisp autumn air snuggled into the scent of a freshly baking vanilla cake — the chosen flavour for George’s birthday that year.

The ravenette’s arrival in Florida had brought an everlasting smile to Dream’s lips, as well as a landslide of opportunities. It was easy to forget that only a month ago, Dream had been sitting on his porch in a hurricane by himself, watching the tire tracks of the construction workers’ trucks disappear beneath the downpour.

It was as though he had been warped to a whole new planet.

“George, I can literally see you grabbing more flour.” Sapnap’s grumbled complaint rumbled out from beside Dream, pulling a scoffed chuckle from the older as he continued his stirring.

It was no coincidence that he had been placed in charge of the icing; conveniently standing between his two other housemates. It was made avidly clear that morning that George had woken up in one of his crazier moods — no doubtably propelled by the fact that it was his birthday — and he had quickly latched onto Sapnap with the aim to dispel his untamed energy.

“Chat? should I~?”

“No, fuck off.”

Dream lifted his head to roll his eyes in the cheeky ravenette’s direction, smile widening hopelessly at the sight of the mound of flour in his hand.

“George.” George let out a few delighted giggles at his warning tone, clearly adoring the attention.

The house was already a mess but Dream was still content on at least keeping his clothes a little less flour-covered than Sapnap’s. He was also well aware that the younger man could only take so much button-pressing; his brown sweatshirt was already coated white.

The alert of another donation pinged from the computer in front of them. Dream leapt at the opportunity to derail George’s threat.

“Did Dream or Sapnap get you any birthday gifts this year?” He read out, pausing to check the consistency of his icing afterwards. It was just about ready.

“No they didn’t. They hate me actually.” Dream’s jaw dropped in offence.

“No! That’s not true!” He defended, the idea of not caring for his once-long distant best friend being intolerable. “You didn’t ask for anything!! Chat, we don’t do birthday gifts.” He stated firmly.

“He’s on track for a knuckle sandwich though. Maybe that can be his birthday gift instead.” Both boys giggled at Sapnap’s suggestion. “Birthday punches.”

“Birthday kisses.” George chipped back, dark, playful eyes locking onto Dream’s as he turned his head. Dream quickly averted his gaze, blush rising to his cheeks. The comment had been a reference to his own birthday, in which Sapnap had been convinced by chat to give him birthday kisses. It was an intentional dig at Dream’s pride, an attempt to embarrass him live on stream, and it had worked.

“Look he’s embarrassed!!” An overjoyed cackle rang out through the kitchen. Dream shook his head as an accusing finger was shoved into his face.

“I’m not!!”

“Ohhh… Does Gogy want birthday kisses??” Sapnap crooned, evidentially not as easily derailed as Dream was, though a panicked protest from George was enough for him to find his composure.

“Wait yeah!? How come we didn’t give you birthday kisses??” He quipped, grappling at the taunting finger beside him. He chuckled as George let out a panicked squeal, his own smile widening as George’s eyes creased into crescents of a giddy bliss.

“Noho!!” The older squeaked, halfhearted and with no fight. Dream reeled him into his side, squeezing his shoulder tight.

“Aww come on… What are you afraid of?”. He crooned, dropping his voice to a smooth taunt, and wrapping his free arm around George’s middle. He manoeuvred him to a behind hug, grinning and feigning a few kissy noises beside his ear as a bout of flustered giggles and huffs tumbled out from the ravenette.

“Naww was that a giggle?! Is George getting all giggly?” Sapnap teased playfully, taking a few steps towards them, and dipping his hand into the bag of flour on his way over.

Dream laughed at him, countering George’s panicked squirms by wrapping his arms around his chest. Part of him felt the need to pull George away from Sapnap, but quite frankly he was sure that his cheeks were still at least a little pink, so this would be a good distraction for the stream.

“NOHo! Stohop!!”

“Ohhh but you thought it was so funny to do it to me!?” Sapnap matched Dream’s wide grin, stalking his way closer and closer whilst making show of the mound of flour in his hand.

“Dreheheam!!”

“Hm?” Dream let his head drop innocently to the crook of George’s neck, purposely humming against his skin. A victorious smile crept up his lips as flustered huffs and splutters intertwined themselves into the his friend’s giggles. “Ohhh he’s embarrassed!!” He teased cheekily, mocking George from earlier, and wrangling up the smaller’s hands once they tried to push away his own. He held them firmly to George’s chest.

“nOhoho I’M nOhot!!”

“What’s so funny??” A shrill scream rang out through the kitchen as Sapnap’s stalking finally reached close enough to dust his hands across the black fabric of George’s hoody. The scream was then followed by a wave of choppy protests, and the thumping of George’s feet as he stamped them into the kitchen floor.

“NAHHH HAH HAAHHH!!”

“He’s got the giggles!!”

“NOho Sap-NAhAP — DREHEAM!!” Another scream tore through George throat as Dream began to place the first of his birthday kisses against George’s neck, peppering them in a soft trail up its side.

Dream half expected George to leap out of his skin once he started, but to Dream’s absolute surprise, he found that George seemed to all but melt into his arms instead. He smiled fondly as loud laughter was immediately replaced by soft, squeaky giggles, squeezing his eyes shut as a surge of affection washed through him.

“Nohohohoho!!” George tittered helplessly, shaking his head in attempt to block out Dream’s sweet attack. He tightened his hold around George to steady him, squeezing his wrists and letting his kisses trail up to George’s cheek. It really did feel like another planet.

“Naww he’s gone all squeaky? Whahat!?” Sapnap mused, dotting a few flour covered pokes into George’s ribs and belly. George shook his head wildly.

“Nohoho this ihihisn’t—” Dream watched his eyeline dart nervously to the camera, smiling into his kisses as the warmth from George’s cheeks could be felt in against his own. He moved them up to his temple, causing George to shake his head again, and his hands to tug at his own.

“What’s wrong?“ He mumbled, squeezing the smaller boy closer as he choked his way through flustered giggles. He let his kisses move down past George’s ear to his jaw, lingering over the skin just beside his ear. “Too ticklish for birthday kisses?” He murmured.

“Ss-stahahahap you didn’t— nahaha— thihihis ihihisn’t—“ Dream grinned as his taunt produced a rather satisfying flurry of protests to fall from George’s mouth.

“Definitely sounds like he’s a little ticklish to me.” Sapnap agreed, drilling his thumbs into a pair of particularly sensitive ribs.

“SAHAHAPNAP!!” George squealed, leaping and bounding in Dream’s arms as the new tickly current raced through him. He threw his head back into loud cackles, tugging at his arms and buckling at the knees.

“What have I found in here Georgie~?” Sapnap crooned calmly, kneading deep circles into the two ribs. Dream placed a few kisses along the meaty part of his neck, pulling him to his chest to prevent him from falling. “Is this a really ticklish spot?”

George could only shake his head in response, laughter going silent for a moment as Dream moved up to place several small, butterfly kisses behind his ear.

“Nohohoho the streheam- youhuhu dihidn’t— Dreheheam dihihidnt—” He choked out, stamping his feet into the floor again as Sapnap began to move his kneading up his ribcage.

“Nawww he can barely speak!!” Dream crooned against George’s ear, flutters of adoration coursing through his body. He placed a few kisses onto the shell of the ear itself, shivering at the memory of Sapnap doing the same thing to him.

“Nohohoho stohohop!!” George squealed, desperately trying to slam his head down to his shoulder. “Dreheheam couhuhuld’t—” Dream felt his heart squeezes as a bubbly wave of giggles shook through his friend’s body. “Dream couhuhuldn’t be seheen!” He finally managed, hands yanking once again at Dream’s hold. His face was bright red, clearly embarrassed.

Dream instinctively let the tugging hands go, watching with a fond gaze as they planted themslves promptly over George’s cheeks.

He did technically did have a point after all… Dream’s birthday kisses were before his face reveal…

“Alright, alright you big baby.” Sapnap groaned, rubbing at George’s well-kneaded ribs to help calm down him down. “Dream how many have you done?” He asked, helping George brush away some of the flour from his body

“How many have I done?”

“Like, how many kisses?”

“Ohhhh…” The sudden realisation that he was supposed to be counting twenty-six kisses twisted in Dream’s chest, prompting a rosey blush to return promptly to his cheeks. He had been so caught up in George’s reactions that he had completely forgotten to count how many he had done.

“Were you not counting??”

“Dreahem!!”

“What?! Am I not allowed to show you affection? Georgie~” Dream defended, attempting to quell his embarrassment by hiding himself away behind George’s head, and placing a few strategic kisses into the nape of his neck to redirect the attention of the room.

“nAHohoh sTOHOp!! Youhuhu ihihidiot!!” George yelped, leaning himself forward and away from Dream’s mischievous diversion. Dream easily followed.

The same squeaky laugh from before returned, along with the padding of George’s feet against the floor. The attack only lasted until George started trying to turn himself around in Dream’s arms. Dream loosened his grip to allow him space to do so, beaming down with absolute adoration as George’s shoulders’ shook with each residual titter that tumbled out of him. He shot Sapnap a prideful smile. The younger rolled his eyes.

“Yeah ok ok, we get it smiley, he’s adorable.”

“No mohohohore!!” George tittered, the plead muffled into Dream’s chest. Dream had to remind himself that he was indeed still on Earth, and in this world.

“It’s ok I’m done, I’m done.” He promised, hugging the giggly boy in tightly, and then unwinding him from his chest and patting him reassuringly on the shoulder.

George’s face was blotchy red with embarrassment, his lips twisted into the resulting expression of a giddy smile and a feigned pout combined. His hands immediately clasped around the hem of his hoody, dragging it up and burying his face into it.

Thankfully for the smaller, the ringing timer from his phone provided him with the opportunity to divert the stream’s attention away from himself, and onto his baking birthday cake instead.

Dream shook his head fondly. The air in the Dream Team home truly had never been sweeter.

🦙🦙🦙…

it’s been 7 months 😵‍💫 how absolutely insane

[ikeromantic]

Sasuke Appetite 😍

for @aethien11-blog Sasuke feels a bit . . . peckish! Approx. 500 words of Sasuke and a certain kind of hunger. Fluffy sweetness!

If there was one thing Sasuke missed about the modern world, it was the food. Well, that and hot showers and big, soft mattresses. But right now he was pretty sure he’d give his right arm for a bag of chips or an order of french fries. He sighed.

“What was that for?” The chatelaine rolled over to look at him, her sleepy expression creased with slight worry. 

“Nothing.” He smiled as much as he could to reassure her and then kissed the tip of her nose. “Roll back over and I’ll be your big spoon.”

She rubbed the tip of her nose. “Didn’t sound like nothing.” 

He laughed softly and closed his eyes. “I was just thinking. I miss chips.”

Her smile was in her voice as she replied. “Me too. And parfait. And chocolate ice cream. Oooh! And croissants. I wish I’d eaten all of my favorite things one last time before -”

Sasuke felt guilt creep up in his chest. “Sorry. I knew what I was getting into. But you thought you were just out sightseeing.” He felt her fingertips on his cheek. 

“It’s not your fault. The wormhole would have been there either way. I’m just lucky I’ve got a moderately awesome ninja to look after me.”

Though the guilt did not ease completely, a warmth suffused him. It was so strange to think that in the midst of time travel, war, and chaos, he’d found the woman he loved - and that she could love him back. He took her hand in his and kissed her palm. 

She scooted closer on the futon and snuggled her head against his chest. “So. Tell me. If you had one last meal to eat before the wormhole, what would it be?”

Sasuke wasn’t thinking about food anymore, really. The unexpected hunger for things he could not have was supplanted by another appetite entirely. He stroked her hair back from her face, his roving hand moving down her neck and shoulder to caress her arm. “Are you sleepy?”

“Not yet,” she lied, blinking up at him.

He laughed softly and pulled her even closer. 

“Ok,” she amended. “I’m a little sleepy. But not that much! Why did you ask?” Her protest was marred by another yawn.

“Did you know that yawning magnifies your cuteness exponentially?” Sasuke leaned down to kiss her forehead, but she turned her face up at just the right moment to catch his lips with her own.

“I did not know that,” she replied when their kiss broke. “But I’m feeling a lot less sleepy now.”

His hand slid down to her hip. “I think my happiness meter is almost maxed out. But . . .”

“But?”

“I’m not sorry to inform you that it’s going to take more than a kiss to satisfy me now. Is it alright if I -” Sasuke tugged the fabric of her loosely wrapped kimono.

“Mmmm. I would like that.” Her hand stroked his chest. 

His love and desire for her only grew. It was an appetite he could never really sate, and that, he thought, was a good thing. He gently pulled her kimono from her shoulders and felt again a certain awe that this was his girlfriend. She was too beautiful and too sweet and it felt sometimes like he’d stolen a destiny that was not his own. 

She looked at him with stars in her eyes. “What now?”

Sasuke grinned. “Hijinks ensue.”

[laurfilijames]

Hi friend! A Charlie ask for you because I'm sure you have a lot of photos of him saved 😉: what are your top 3 favorite Charlie photos of all time?

Ohhhh Jess how I love you for this ask!! 😍

You assumed correctly in that I do have many photos of this gorgeous man saved for my convenience to browse whenever I am in need of a pick-me-up, which has come in handy recently and I was more than happy to go through them again to find my favourite 3 (being allowed to choose only 3 was cruel btw!)

Number 3:

A current one of Charlie at the London premiere of Rebel Moon. He's perfect. PERFECT. The hair and the way it swoops at the back. His beard with all the gray in it and the little swirl it always makes on his cheek. The candidness of him looking off to the side. And don't get me started on his NECK and how bitable it looks. *bites fist and screams*

Number 2:

LOOK AT THAT SMILE. Seeing him grin like this makes me lose my damn mind every time. It lights up his whole face. I just love his smile and when it's big enough to make the lines around his eyes scrunch up I die. How can anyone not smile when they see this?!!?

Number 1:

Okay. It's hard to form words to articulate exactly how this photo makes me feel. The thots that have been thunk because of this one are not at all appropriate to be shared if that begins to give you any idea of what this does to me. 🥵 Something about the way that toothpick is just sitting in his mouth (and how he was probably playing with it with his tongue 😩) and the cockiness on his face always makes me think that he's just finished saying something filthy or ordered me to do whatever he wants and let me tell you how much I adore that confidence and how ready and willing this bitch is to be a good girl and abide by his wishes 😇

Speaking of listening and following instructions (he can punish me, it's okay.)...I went ahead and bent the rules because I felt bad not including this one too😈

The simplicity and sweetness of it is captured so well. He looks so calm and content and I'd sell my soul to be on the receiving end of that look. I can't get enough of the creases around his mouth and this photo puts them perfectly on display like the masterpiece he is 😍

Again, thank you so much for sending this ask. It really helped bring a smile to my face and having an excuse to stare at Charlie is always the cure for any bad day or stressful time💗

[mondscheinprinzessin]

Yey! I missed prompts so much!😍

❝  i don’t feel like a whole person without you anymore.  i don’t fucking care if anyone else would say about that.  you’re part of who i am now.  the most important piece of me.  ❞ niko/joel

“…fight of power when one wants the spotlight more than the other- I can’t read this anymore.” Niko said in a loud voice, obviously annoyed, ripping Joel out of his daydreams. “This is stupid, what do they know about us. We’ve had our fights yes, but never about who wants to be the front person - there is no main singer in this band, when will they understand this and stop writing needless articles about our possible future break up, none of these scenarios will happen.”

Surprisingly well-aimed, Niko threw the magazine in the bin next to the small table, and with a big sigh fell backwards on the bed behind him.

Joel, who had been following the end of the scene with his eyes, had to smile a little. It wasn’t the first time they had this talk within the band, and while Joel was known to go on rants on every topic possible, Niko was right behind him in getting furious when the media outlets speculated about their dynamics and sudden band accomplishments.

Also, Joel couldn’t deny that it was hot seeing Niko spitting flames.

With one long stride, Joel lay down next to Niko, the small hotel bed not giving the chance to leave much space between them, but Joel was happy enough about this fact since it gave him the perfect excuse to fall asleep on Niko’s chest last night.

Right now though he perched his head on his own hands, watching Niko’s face, holding back words in favour of smiling at him.

“What?” Niko asked, less upset now, but with a crease between his brows still. “What’s so funny about it? All they want is to see us fall when we’ve worked so hard for this. But no, they want to watch us ripping ourselves apart as if we’re lions trapped in a cage for the amusement of everyone around us.”

Not able to hold back any longer, Joel half fell, half rolled onto Niko and kissed his path up his neck to his mouth.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” He said and dodged the hand that wanted to slap him away.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not! I just gave you a compliment.”

Niko grumbled but then his face softened. “You’re right, they can all kiss my ass. They don’t know how happy I am, and it’s sad that’s all they can write about us.” His green eyes found Joel’s and one of his hands lifted to slip his hair between his ear, lingering to trace a finger down his jaw. “I never want to fight you about our position, you know that right?”

Joel was aware that everyone in the band knew about this insecurity about his because it did spark conflicts in the past, but not because Niko really did try to shove Joel out, but because Joel was afraid it could happen eventually. Over the time he learned and understood and accepted that none of the guys wanted to do this without him, and particularly Niko wouldn’t try to vote Joel out, after all he loved him.

That’s why Joel answered assured, “I know.”

“I don’t feel like a whole person without you anymore. I don’t fucking care what anyone else would say about that. You’re part of who I am now, the most important piece of me.”

Now that’s the Niko Joel knew. The poetic, love declaring man that still managed to make Joel blush with his words and left him speechless, which was not easy to achieve.

Joel buried his face into Niko’s neck to hide his face and grin of happiness, a warmth feeling spreading through him, and he would’ve loved to stop time to prolong this moment, to let go of the knowledge that they would have to go up soon for soundcheck. Right now he only wanted to bathe in Niko’s love.

“Don’t say something like that.” He said nevertheless, still embarrassed whenever Niko directed such lovely words towards him no matter how much Joel enjoyed them. He just couldn’t get used to it and didn’t know how to behave.

“Too late. I love you, nothing you can do about that.”

“We will see about that.” Joel replied, the grin having turned into a smirk, his hands slowly creeping up Niko’s side and his fingers immediately tickling over his skin once he saw his chance.

“Don’t you dare!” Was all Niko could bring out before he was lost in laughter and tried to fight Joel off.

[seitmai]

But even Coyote agreed that regular sex was more important than pick-up basketball games at the base gym or nights at the bar.

Bahahah😂

“Damn, only took 58 days to get you to fall for me.”  “I wouldn’t go that far - you’re still in your probationary period, Seresin,” you scoffed. “Your review is coming up, and I’m a little unclear if you’ve met the conditions of your contract.” 

You better make it clear to her Seresin

Smiling sweetly, you cupped him, squeezing lightly when he pressed into your hand. His teeth dug into his lower lip when you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “All requests for title changes will be reviewed and, if approved, authorized following the 30-day evaluation - i.e., changing ‘guy I’m seeing’ to ‘boyfriend.’”

We gotta follow the rules 🤷🏻‍♀️

“We’ve spent the last three weekends together and talk every day. You’re my girlfriend. I’m your boyfriend.” “I don’t remember having that conversation.”  “You’re the one who said you didn’t want casual.” After brushing his lips to your neck, he rested his temple against yours and closed his eyes, swaying slightly. A contented sigh escaped as you let yourself relax against him. “You are definitely not who I thought you were, Jake.” 

Oh he's so whipped 🤭🥰

“There’s no ribbon or promotion ceremony for that, you know.” “You sure?” he asked, glancing down at his service ribbons. “Could start another row just for you.” Laughing, you stood on your toes to kiss him. 

That's just so cute 😍

“I wanna wake up with my girlfriend during the week.” “You are really hung up on that, aren’t you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

He really is hung up on that but thats just adorable

“Not your normal type?” Hanging his head, Jake chuckled. He’d been purposely avoiding eye contact with a couple of women he’d hooked up with all night. “Just don’t fall for the whole ‘something’s missing’ thing this time, alright?” Javy smirked, holding up his left hand and wiggling his fingers. 

I love Javy for this haha, someone hast to keep Jake in check 😅

“Hey, I’m not the one who got married because their girlfriend of three months posted on Facebook that their ring finger was empty.” Jake grimaced, pushing away the memory of proposing to his ex-wife while drunk on Bourbon Street after she’d been pouting all night that all of her friends were getting married and having babies.

I can't 😂 this cracked me up and is the most hilarious and silly backstory for how Jake's first marriage came to

“You telling me that you were hustlin’ me tonight?” “A little.” 

😏😏😏

Instead, you set your glass on the nightstand and took off your shirt, slipping back between the covers with your back to him. He locked his phone and dropped it back onto the nightstand before shedding his own shirt. Curling around you, he pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder and smiled when you pressed back against him.

🥰🥰🥰

“Go away, you evil morning person.”

Literally me

“Play hooky with me,” he mumbled against your skin. When you shook your head, he lightly bit your breast before trailing kisses up your chest and throat, stopping when his lips hovered over yours. “I’ll go to sick call. You call in sick. We can spend all day relaxing.” When his thumb traced your cheek, you forced your eyes open. There was a pillow crease on his cheek, and his hair was flat on one side and spiked where your hands had run through it. It was his sleepy eyes that did you in, though. 

I would not have expected Jake to be someone who plays hooky, but his sleepy eyes and bed head would have convinced me 😌

“Darlin’... you know that’s sexual harassment.” “Don’t say that,” you whispered. When he asked why, brushing away your tears, you shook your head. “‘Cause then I have to do something about it.”

 I loved this line, even though it's heartbreaking because it's unfortunately such a real way to portrait it💔

Parties agree that the initial “date” is identified as the night of the contract writer’s unfortunate car accident, which will be acknowledged with annual anniversary.  

😍😍😍

“That’s a lot of overnight bag packing.” “Only for 44 weeks. The next round of negotiations is going to include moving in together.” “You’re pretty confident that we’re gonna reach annual negotiations.” “Darlin’, I have a feeling we’re gonna be doing this for a long time.” Jake heard your breath catch. After a moment, you cleared your throat. 

Ahhhh I love their banter 🥰🫶🏻

“Can’t kiss my girlfriend first?” “No title changes are approved until you’ve signed.” Sighing, he grabbed the pen from his flight suit pocket and clicked it. 

You gotta do it right ☝🏻

As soon as both copies of the contract - you’d insisted that you each need a copy - were signed, Jake shoved your slacks down your legs and pressed your cheek to the kitchen counter as he showed you exactly how much he loved being your boyfriend.

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 6

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 5.9k

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 5 | Master List | Ao3

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

Chapter 6

Jake slid his sunglasses on while exiting the Vigilantes hanger. He was supposed to meet Coyote for lunch - an apology for blowing him off for the last three weekends. But with you standing firm on the no weeknights sleepovers, it was the only time he was able to see you. After waking you up with his tongue between your legs, he’d thought you’d cave, but no luck. Instead, he was stuck trading texts and phone calls during the week. But even Coyote agreed that regular sex was more important than pick-up basketball games at the base gym or nights at the bar.

Jake cast a critical eye over the jets as he walked the flight line. The maintenance crews were among the best in the world, but all it took was one rookie pilot just out of flight school to damage millions of dollars in equipment. As part of his TOPGUN training, he’d been charged with helping train some of those kids, which was an exercise in patience. Thankfully he wasn’t the only TOPGUN grad stationed on Lemoore, so the responsibilities were pretty evenly shared.

A small group of people was standing around the Rough Raiders hanger - a mix of khaki, flight suits, and civilians. He paused midstep at the sight of you climbing a jet ladder, a guy in a flight suit standing below and checking out your ass. You hadn’t mentioned being on base when you talked last night. Tucking his tongue into his cheek, he watched you climb into the F-35 and look up at the canopy as the pilot quickly scaled the ladder. He handed you his helmet, and Jake watched as you grinned and put it on before sitting. From the distance and angle, he couldn’t see you well but clocked the guy’s grin and as he reached into the cockpit. He felt a spike of irritation and shoved his clenched fists into his pockets before remembering he was in uniform. Smoothing down his khakis, he forced himself to walk away.

Coyote was waiting by his Jeep when Jake reached the Sidewinder offices. With a nod, he got into the car and cranked the engine, blasting the air conditioning. Coyote glanced at his friend and smirked, “Who pissed in your Cheerios?” 

“No one,” he grumbled, snapping the door shut. “Joe’s sound good, or did you want to hit the food court?”

“Let’s get the hell off base. Gotta tell you about this damn kid.”

Your phone buzzed, alerting you to motion outside your front door before it chimed. Sighing, you dropped the dirty clothes you were sorting and reached into your pocket, pulling up the app to see Jake looking down at the camera. Stepping over the pile of clothes, you closed your bedroom door before letting him in. “Hey - didn’t realize you were coming over.”

“Just thought I’d stop by,” he shrugged. As soon as the door was closed, he backed you into it and braced his forearm over your head. Your hands rested on his chest as he kissed you slowly, the scent of his cologne - something smokey and spicy - washing over you. “Saw you on the flight line today.”

“Had the 60-day post-delivery meeting for the Lightnings,” you explained when his lips pressed against your throat. Jake smiled, slipping his hand under the hem of your shirt to lightly stroke your back, pinky anchored into the waistband of your slacks. 

“That means it’s been 60 days since we met?”

“Technically 58 - we had to schedule the meeting early.”  

“Damn, only took 58 days to get you to fall for me.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far - you’re still in your probationary period, Seresin,” you scoffed. “Your review is coming up, and I’m a little unclear if you’ve met the conditions of your contract.” 

“Oh yeah?” He shifted so his body pressed against yours, pinning you in place. “Pretty sure I’ve been the ideal boyfriend - I’ve made you dinner a couple of times, followed your stupid sleepover rule, watched your shitty movies - ”

“You’re getting points docked for insulting my taste.” 

“Made you cum six ways from Sunday.” You felt his cock twitch against your thigh as he smirked. 

Smiling sweetly, you cupped him, squeezing lightly when he pressed into your hand. His teeth dug into his lower lip when you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “All requests for title changes will be reviewed and, if approved, authorized following the 30-day evaluation - i.e., changing ‘guy I’m seeing’ to ‘boyfriend.’” When he opened his mouth to reply, you laughed while ducking out from under his arm. “We may have met 58 days ago, but we’ve only been seeing each other for three weeks. Better be on your best behavior for another week, or we’ll terminate the contract.” 

You made it three steps before Jake’s arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you back against his chest. “We’ve spent the last three weekends together and talk every day. You’re my girlfriend. I’m your boyfriend.” 

“I don’t remember having that conversation.” 

“You’re the one who said you didn’t want casual.” After brushing his lips to your neck, he rested his temple against yours and closed his eyes, swaying slightly. A contented sigh escaped as you let yourself relax against him. 

“You are definitely not who I thought you were, Jake.” 

“Took you 58 days to realize that, darlin’?” he teased, a hint of an accent coloring his words. 

“My sweet, sexy Southern guy I’m seeing.”

“Boyfriend.” 

“You’re really angling for that promotion.” 

“Put in my time and earned it on merit.” Shaking your head, you let out a heavy sigh while turning in his arms. He took your left hand, pulling it behind your back and holding you close. Your right hand lifted to tap the ribbon bar pinned to his chest, just under his golden wings.  

“There’s no ribbon or promotion ceremony for that, you know.” 

“You sure?” he asked, glancing down at his service ribbons. “Could start another row just for you.” Laughing, you stood on your toes to kiss him. 

“You staying for dinner? I was just going to get something delivered and catch up on chores since someone has been keeping me busy over the weekends, and I haven’t had a chance to clean.” 

“Let’s go out - grab a couple of drinks and a burger at the bar. Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I saw you on Sunday, it’s only Wednesday.” 

“Exactly.” Chuckling, you slipped out of his arms, his fingers tightening around yours before releasing, and walked towards your room to swap your slacks for jeans.

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“You didn’t miss me?” he asked, following you to lean against your bedroom doorframe. Turning, you felt a flutter in your stomach at the sight of him, a softly teasing smirk playing on his lips, and a hint of mischief in his green eyes. 

“Not even a little,” you lied. 

His answering laugh let you know he didn’t believe you.

“That’s disgusting,” Jake grimaced, pulling a face as he handed you back your beer. You rolled your eyes, reaching over to wipe a bit of the watermelon gose foam from his upper lip.

“It’s better than your IPA.” Shaking his head, he took a swig to wash away the taste before looking around the bar. You’d had low hopes for the beer selection when you’d walked inside what was clearly a pilot hangout but had been pleasantly surprised that they carried a local brewery on tap. 

“Wanna grab a seat or play some pool? There’s an open table.” 

“Let’s play.” Grinning, he took your hand and led you to the back of the bar, where three tables were lined up. After placing his beer on the table rail, Jake grabbed two cues from the wall as you retrieved the balls from the pockets. 

“We playing for fun, or do you want to make it interesting?” he asked, grabbing the triangle and racking the balls. 

“We’re not playing strip pool in public.” His laugh drew the attention of the table next to you, and he walked towards you. When he reached to slip his hands into the back pockets of your jeans, you shifted so your ass was pressed against the table. As much as you enjoyed Jake’s hands on you, there were too many people around that you might have to work with one day. Better to keep the PDA to a reasonable level. 

“Not what I was gonna suggest, but I like where your mind went,” he said, placing his hands on the table beside your hips. Cocking his head, his gaze drifted from your face to the hint of cleavage your blouse allowed. 

“My eyes are up here, Lieutenant. What do you want to bet?” Taking his lower lip between his teeth, Jake shook his head.

“I wanna wake up with my girlfriend during the week.” 

“You are really hung up on that, aren’t you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“What can I say? I think your snores are cute.”

“I do not snore!”

“You do,” he countered, leaning close enough to whisper in your ear. “Make these hot little moans when you’re sleeping, too. Makes me want to roll you onto your back and slide into that sweet - ”

“Jacob Michael!” you hissed, face flushed. 

“Damn. First and middle name,” someone said. You glanced over Jake’s shoulder as his head fell to the crook of your neck, groaning softly. A guy in a flight suit stood there, grinning. “What’d you do to piss her off, Hangman?” 

“Fuck off, Coyote.” Jake shifted to sit on the table beside you, hunched over and rubbing his brow.

“Javy Machado,” the man said, extending a hand. “But everyone calls me Coyote. You must be the woman this asshole can’t stop talking about.” Laughing, you introduced yourself while shaking his hand. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Jake said you two went to the Academy together?” 

“We did. Got stuck with him during our plebe summer.” 

“Oh. So you know all the embarrassing college stories.”

“He tell you about the time he lost a uniform race and almost broke his nose running into the wall during an Around the World?”

“I didn’t understand what you said, but tell me more,” you grinned. 

“Did you need something?” Jake asked, glaring at his friend.

“Basically, our detailer - ”

“We’re trying to play a game. See you later, Coyote.” Standing, Jake turned his friend around and playfully shoved him between his shoulders. 

“It was nice meeting you!” you called after him. “And don’t worry - we’ll talk.” 

“I’ll see you around. And don’t let him hustle you at pool.” Jake sighed when he turned to see you sipping your beer, eyes sparkling over the rim of the glass. 

“Ignore everything he says.” 

“Absolutely not. He is definitely coming over for dinner one night so I can hear all about baby Seresin. And it’s good to know that you hustle pool.”

“I don’t hustle, darlin’ - I’m just good.” 

“Is that right? Then why, exactly, should I even bother betting against you?” 

“I’ll give you a two-ball handicap.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three, and I get to move the white ball every other turn.”

“Two ball handicap and you can move the cue ball twice.” 

“Fine, but we’re doing best two out of three.” 

“Alright. What do you want if you win?” 

“I want…” you tapped your upper lip and laughed when Jake moved your hand to kiss you.

“Didn’t need to bet to get me to kiss you, darlin’.” Playfully, you shoved him away and stood.

“I want one no questions asked favor that I can call in whenever I need.” After a moment, he nodded.  

When you failed to break the rack during your first shot, Jake grinned as you hung your head and groaned. His shot sank a striped ball, and he hit another one before missing. After nudging two of your solids into a pocket, you took a shot that bounced off the railing. He winked while lining up his shot, not even looking as he hit the cue ball, knocking in two of his stripes. 

The first game was over quickly, and he grinned against your pouting lips before drinking half of his beer. “Should we stop at the store and get some of your flavored coffee shit for my place?” he teased. 

“Don’t act like you don’t like my flavored creamer and syrups, Mr. Honey Lavender Latte.” 

“That’s Lieutenant Honey Lavender Latte,” he smirked, tugging a strand of your hair. “Want me to help?” 

“Fine,” you huffed. Jake reracked the balls and stood at the end of the table as you broke, enjoying the peek down your shirt as you bent over the table. After hitting a solid in and purposely missing his second shot, he watched as you circled the table to pick your angle while sipping your beer. When you stopped in front of him and dropped the cue ball back onto the table, he helped position your hand into a closed bridge and pointed to where you should aim. Placing his hand on your wrist, he stepped behind you so your ass pressed against his crotch when you leaned over the table.

“During the stroke, give it the right amount of thrust,” he said, stacking his hand behind yours on the pool stick. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you shifted your weight and watched him bite his lip. “Behave.” When the ball sank into the pocket, you stood and grinned, quickly pecking his lips before lining up the next shot, waiting expectantly for him to help. 

You took the opportunity to tease him at every turn.

When you knocked the eight ball in and won the round, Jake couldn’t help but grin when you threw up your hands in celebration, shoulders shaking as you wiggled your hips in a victory dance. Unable to stop himself, he wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you back into his chest to press a kiss to your neck. Your excitement was adorable, even though he was turned on and frustrated as hell. One more round, a stop by your apartment, and then straight into his bed for some teasing of your own. And he wouldn’t have to walk you to your damn rental car and wait for a text to say you were home safely. 

“Wanna grab dinner before the tie-breaker?” you asked.  

“If you wanna prolong the inevitable.” Narrowing your eyes, you stuck out your tongue and danced out of the way when he moved to smack your ass. 

“Go get us a table. I’m going to use the restroom.” With a quick kiss, you made your way through the crowd in the direction he’d pointed while Jake grabbed your empty glasses and returned them to the bar. He clapped Coyote on the back when he saw his friend waiting to close out his tab.

“She seems nice,” Coyote said. 

“I really like her, Javy.” Jake felt his scrutinizing gaze and shook his head, meeting his friend’s eyes. “She is…”

“Not your normal type?” Hanging his head, Jake chuckled. He’d been purposely avoiding eye contact with a couple of women he’d hooked up with all night. “Just don’t fall for the whole ‘something’s missing’ thing this time, alright?” Javy smirked, holding up his left hand and wiggling his fingers. 

“Never gonna let me live that one down, are you?” 

“Hey, I’m not the one who got married because their girlfriend of three months posted on Facebook that their ring finger was empty.” Jake grimaced, pushing away the memory of proposing to his ex-wife while drunk on Bourbon Street after she’d been pouting all night that all of her friends were getting married and having babies. The next day, he’d opened his first credit card to replace the straw wrapper ring with one she picked out on base at the NEX and bought his matching wedding band. 

His ring was now on the bottom of the Pacific. He’d tossed it off the carrier after signing the divorce papers. 

“You know who that is?” Javy asked, nodding to where you were chatting with some guy in a flight suit. Jake shook his head, watching as you smiled, and waved a hand across your eyes before drawing a circle in the air. Your brows furrowed as the guy said something, and then you laughed and shook your head. Jake moved when the guy grinned and cupped your cheek, turning your head left and right.

He recognized the guy. It was that pilot from earlier.  

“Shit,” Javy muttered, watching as you took a step back and nodded. 

“There you are,” Jake said, dropping his arm across your shoulders and kissing the side of your head. “Ready to grab a table?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Jake, this is - ”

“Hangman.”

“Rebound,” he replied, shaking Jake’s extended hand. 

“You’re with the Rough Raiders?” he asked, nodding at the other man’s patch.

“Yeah. You?”

“Vigilantes.” 

“Lieutenant Karrow was nice enough to let me see what the 360 camera array on the Lightning looks like from inside his helmet,” you said, trying to diffuse the tension between the two men.

“All that tech must be nice. Sounds like the 35 pretty much flies itself,” Jake said. Rebound smirked.

“Vigilantes are still in the 18s, right? I used to fly one, but the 35s are great. I love the 10K higher ceiling and better maneuverability. Plus, the whole being able to fire on an enemy behind you with all that tech.” 

“If you’re lucky enough for them not to get tone on you by that point.” 

“When you’re in a stealth craft, it doesn’t happen very often.” 

“Right. All that tech makes the pilot's job easier,” Jake smirked. Rebound scowled, and your smile was fixed as you looked up at him. 

“Actually, Hangman,” you said, emphasizing his call sign. “Have you heard that the dogfighting rating is better for the 35 than the 18? The stealth capabilities help, but once the missile bays open, the radar-absorbent skin is slightly impacted, so the pilots have to have combat skills. I’m sure you agree that the Navy wouldn’t send just anyone up in the air with an aircraft that costs $80 million a pop. Our infrared tech definitely helps since it can pick up on aircraft not showing up on radar by finding those heat signatures. Oh, and the ‘hive mind’ communication ability to share data between the 35s in the air - totally helpful when engaging the enemy. Not to mention the whole helmet capabilities. Our engineers, ugh, they did so well with that,” you said, shrugging off Jake’s arm and smiling at Rebound. “I don’t know about you, Karrow, but I really think the ability to just look at a target and engage is a hell of a lot better than having to reposition your jet to get your nose on target to even have a chance of getting a hit has its advantages in a dogfight.”

“Definitely,” Rebound grinned. Jake’s jaw clenched as you crossed your arms. 

“That’s not even considering that we’re implementing a $15 billion upgrade with the Block 4 F-35s. We’re increasing power and data storage by a factor of 25 while incorporating 17 new weapons systems. And improving fuel efficiency by 25%. And while that’s pretty fucking phenomenal, unfortunately, we didn’t get the bid for the sixth-gen F/A-XX that the Navy ordered to replace the Super Hornet since those are actually deteriorating faster than the Hornets did, and production is ending in 2025. So you’ll probably have to get used to flying with more tech at some point in your career, Hangman.” 

Jake didn’t like the thinly veiled anger or forced smile on your face. “You never know, darlin’. Hopefully, I’ll still be in the cockpit when those get off the production line.” 

“Hopefully.” Your voice was clipped as you turned your attention to Karrow, who raised an eyebrow. “Thanks again for this afternoon, I really appreciate it. Have a goodnight, Jackson.” 

“You too. And, uh, you know where to find me if you ever want to get another up-close look at the 35.” Karrow’s eyes darted over to Jake, whose jaw ticked. You smiled at Jake with a nod before turning on your heel and walking out of the bar. 

He hesitated a beat before nodding at Karrow. His eyes darted to where Coyote stood at the bar and tilted his head. Coyote lifted his chin, pinning his gaze on Rebound, who smirked at Jake’s back before returning to his group of friends.  

Outside, you looked down at your phone, comparing the pick-up time for two rideshare apps through bleary eyes and trying not to blink. If you didn’t blink, the tears building in your eyes wouldn’t fall, and you wouldn’t be crying. 

“Darlin’?”

“Go away.” 

“Baby, talk to me.” 

“Go away, Jake. Please.” You refused to look at him as he stood beside you.

“Don’t get a car. Lemme drive you home.” When you didn’t say anything, he sighed. “Sweetheart.”

“Fine.” Locking your phone, you slipped it into your back pocket and made your way across the parking lot to his truck. Your hand rested on the handle as he unlocked it, not even giving him the opportunity to open your door. As soon as he cranked the engine, you reached over to turn up the music to a volume that discouraged conversation; his 2000s country music flooded the cab. When he reached over to place his hand on your leg, you turned away from him and stared out the window. His hand flexed on the shifter.

Even though you almost jumped out of the truck when he parked outside your apartment, mumbling goodnight, Jake followed you upstairs. The tight grip you had on your tears was faltering as you unlocked the door, and he pushed inside behind you. “Can you leave, please?” you said softly. 

“Talk to me, darlin’. Tell me what I did wrong.” Your back was turned to him, and your head dropped, hands lifting to cover your face. Your sharp inhale echoed in the quiet apartment, and his feet were moving before his brain caught up. His arms wrapped around your waist as he cradled you to his chest, pressing kisses to your shoulders as you trembled. When your first sob burst free, he turned you, cradling your head and gently rocking, pressing kisses into your hair. 

“I f-fuckin’ h-hate my j-job,” you gasped into his chest. Jake frowned, humming rather than responding as your grip on the back of his shirt tightened. His hands slid down your body, one landing on your ass while the other encouraged your leg over his hip. Crouching, he lifted you off your feet, legs wrapping around his waist, and walked into your bedroom, gently depositing you on your bed. After kicking off his shoes and taking off his khaki shirt, he knelt in front of you and took off your shoes, tossing them towards your closet. As you moved towards the pillows, you wiggled off your jeans, dropped them over the side of the bed, and shrugged off your bra under your shirt. He grabbed them both and put them in the laundry basket before taking off his pants and joining you under the covers.

“Gonna tell me what’s going on?” he asked, gently wiping away your tears. 

“‘M sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for?” 

“Our night was ruined because of that… because he….”

“Night wasn’t ruined.”

“I’m actually pretty good at pool.” 

“What?” he frowned at the change in topic. 

“I-I played a lot growing up. At the base youth centers after school, and my grandparents bought me this game table when we came back stateside. It had pool and air hockey, and ping pong. My grandpa was really good at pool, and we’d play every time he visited.” Chuckling, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You telling me that you were hustlin’ me tonight?”

“A little.” 

“I shouldn’t like that as much as I do.” Biting your lower lip, you ran your knuckle along his jaw, his stubble rasping against your skin. He gently took your wrist and kissed your palm when you reached his chin. When you met his gaze, his green eyes were soft and filled with concern. Closing your eyes, you moved closer and tucked your head under his chin. Jake sighed, holding you tightly as your legs tangled. “At the risk of sounding like a jealous boyfriend, he shouldn’t have touched you.” He felt you tense, but you didn’t say anything. 

Jake felt your breathing even and was almost asleep himself when he heard you murmur, “I don’t hate the 18.” A smile tugged at his lips as he pressed a kiss into your hair.

“Glad to hear that, darlin’. You’re a damn good saleswoman - almost had me wanting to drop that $80 million, even though it’s more expensive than what you told me the first time we met.” 

“‘S the engine that adds the $5 million,” you yawned. “But you’d get the discount.”

“Only took 58 days to earn that.”

When you woke in the middle of the night and slipped out of bed, Jake grabbed his phone to check the time. There was a text from Coyote asking if everything was okay, and he quickly typed back a message saying they’d talk. When you came back into the bedroom with a glass of water, he waited for you to say he needed to leave.

Instead, you set your glass on the nightstand and took off your shirt, slipping back between the covers with your back to him. He locked his phone and dropped it back onto the nightstand before shedding his own shirt. Curling around you, he pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder and smiled when you pressed back against him.

His alarm went off before yours. Groaning, you pulled the pillow over your head as he turned it off. A strong arm wrapped around your middle and tugged you across the bed, leaving your pillow behind as you grumbled. “Morning, grumpy,” Jake’s sleep-rasped voice teased as he rolled you onto your back. He kissed you softly, brushing the hair from your face before lightly tapping your cheek. “Lemme see those pretty eyes, darlin’.” 

“Go away, you evil morning person.” Laughing lowly, he pushed back the covers and lowered his head to kiss the curve of your breast before sucking on your nipple. You inhaled sharply, pressing against his mouth as your hand buried in his hair. 

“Play hooky with me,” he mumbled against your skin. When you shook your head, he lightly bit your breast before trailing kisses up your chest and throat, stopping when his lips hovered over yours. “I’ll go to sick call. You call in sick. We can spend all day relaxing.” When his thumb traced your cheek, you forced your eyes open. There was a pillow crease on his cheek, and his hair was flat on one side and spiked where your hands had run through it. It was his sleepy eyes that did you in, though. 

“Fine,” you whispered and smiled against his mouth when he kissed you. After a few minutes spent trading lazy kisses, he pulled himself out of bed and dressed. Before he left, he ensured you texted your boss and promised to return in a few hours. 

True to his word, he was back by 9:00AM and quickly changed out of his uniform into a pair of Navy sweats and a t-shirt while you made him a honey lavender latte that he loved to hate. 

Slowly, over the course of the morning, he got you to talk. You reluctantly told him why you were so mad yesterday - as much as Karrow touching you had pissed you off, you still had to work with him, and Jake’s posturing could make it awkward. He apologized and had to rein in his anger when you avoided his eyes when he asked if people touched you at work like that. When you tried to say it wasn’t a big deal, that it was the comments and looks that were worse, he saw red. 

“Darlin’... you know that’s sexual harassment.”

“Don’t say that,” you whispered. When he asked why, brushing away your tears, you shook your head. “‘Cause then I have to do something about it.” 

With your face buried in his chest, you told him about leaving Florida after an awkward breakup. Your ex had moved into your apartment slowly, spending more and more nights at your place even though you’d told him you didn’t want to live together. When his lease was up, he’d expected you to add him to yours and had even told his roommate that he was moving out before talking to you about it. He’d told a mutual friend he was planning to propose, and you quickly ended it. When the opportunity to come to California came up, you jumped at it. 

Jake reluctantly talked about his past. He said he was lonely at his first base and had trouble finding his footing in his new squadron. He was throwing himself into work and needing to prove that he’d earned his career as an aviator, so he made some stupid decision. Another new aviator, Bradshaw, had called him Hangman after an exercise, and the callsign had stuck. He hated it. He hated that he would always be reminded of the arrogant twenty-year-old kid he’d been. So it was easier to lose himself in a relationship that wasn’t good. He’d loved his ex-wife, and loved the stability their marriage gave him, but knew that she was cheating on him when he deployed. When he got orders to California, she stayed for three months before returning to New Orleans. She’d had some health problems, so they stayed married so she could stay on his health insurance. They’d only divorced because she’d wanted to remarry. 

Later, your linked fingers were pinned over your head, Jake’s weight holding you down as he slowly rolled his hips. No matter how much you begged him to go faster, harder, he kept to the slow rhythm, straining to hold still when you both got too close to the edge. He savored the way you gasped his name against his lips. He let go of one of your hands to wipe a strand of sweaty hair from your face and smiled at your glazed expression when your eyes met his. “Please,” you whined. He caught your hand as it drifted between you and shook his head. After he kissed your palm, you wrapped your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him close, biting his lower lip. “Please, Jake.” 

Unable to deny you anything, his fingers drew slow circles around your clit. He crushed his lips to yours, forcing you to swallow the three small words that almost slipped out as you clenched around him. 

A week later, Jake sat in his office, staring at his sister’s post celebrating his parent’s wedding anniversary. She’d used their last family picture - his graduation from the Academy.

He hated that picture. Hated thinking about that fucking day. Hated that his first salute as an ensign had gone to a man who encouraged him to keep up the Navy tradition of having a girl in every port as his mother stood beside him, a smile hiding her hurt. It wasn’t a secret that his father had done exactly that during his naval service. 

The phone buzzed, and his eyes flitted up to see a text. What’s your email?

Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, he quickly typed out his personal email address and sent it back to you. Two minutes later, a new message appeared in his inbox with an attached document. 

30-Day Contract Review Results

Upon review of the initial “Dating” contract between the two parties identified below, it is determined that all clauses and conditions have been met. It is recommended that parties continue with the contract, entering an exclusive and monogamous relationship. Parties agree that the initial “date” is identified as the night of the contract writer’s unfortunate car accident, which will be acknowledged with annual anniversary.  

Recommend the following updates to the contract:

Strike ‘person I’m seeing’ and replace with boyfriend/girlfriend as appropriate

Strike zero-tolerance weeknight sleepover policy and authorize two weeknight stays

Writer will not be required to assist with remaking hospital corners when staying at the contracting partner’s house

Contracting partner will acknowledge that writer does not snore

Writer will purchase supplies for honey lavender lattes for both households

Contracting partner will not disparage the writer’s film preferences

Parties will agree to an annual review of the contract, with ad hoc meetings to discuss clauses and conditions as they arise

The signatures below serve as an agreement to identified contract recommendations. The next review will occur on the acknowledged annual anniversary.

Your signature was already on the bottom of the document, and there was a signature line for him.

Laughing, Jake pulled up your phone number and called you.

“Yes?” He could hear the smile in your voice. 

“Are you open to negotiating the number of authorized weeknight stays? Cause I’m thinking four is a better number.”

“At that point, we would only have one night away from each other when taking weekends into consideration.”

“I’m fine with that. Three nights at your place, three at mine.” 

“That’s a lot of overnight bag packing.” 

“Only for 44 weeks. The next round of negotiations is going to include moving in together.” 

“You’re pretty confident that we’re gonna reach annual negotiations.”

“Darlin’, I have a feeling we’re gonna be doing this for a long time.” Jake heard your breath catch. After a moment, you cleared your throat. 

“I’ll agree to three weeknights, Lieutenent Seresin. Final offer.” 

“Make the edit, and I’ll sign it when I see you tonight.” 

“Fine. I’ll see you tonight, Lieutenant.”

“See you tonight,” he grinned as the call disconnected, already planning on running back to his place to pack an overnight bag. 

But when he got to his house, your car was idling on the side of the road. He parked the truck in the garage, making sure to leave enough space for your vehicle. When you pulled into the driveway, he motioned you forward until you were parked beside him. “You’re ruining my plan to scandalize the neighbors,” you huffed when he opened the car door. 

“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of opportunities for that,” he chuckled, taking the plastic bag you held out. Inside was an assortment of coffee stuff. 

“First thing first, Seresin. Grab a pen.”

“Can’t kiss my girlfriend first?”

“No title changes are approved until you’ve signed.” Sighing, he grabbed the pen from his flight suit pocket and clicked it. 

As soon as both copies of the contract - you’d insisted that you each need a copy - were signed, Jake shoved your slacks down your legs and pressed your cheek to the kitchen counter as he showed you exactly how much he loved being your boyfriend.

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

Author's Note: This chapter covers a lot. Thanks for the patience when it came to writing it - between the themes, researching the F-35, and recovering from having guests, I've been exhausted. Hopefully the banter made up for the angst, and you liked seeing a bit more of each of their background. Kinda funny, but my brother in law proposed to his first wife for that same reason Jake did - a Facebook post of an empty hand.

Read Chapter 7

Tag list:

@memeorydotcom; @alldaysdreamers; @kmc1989; @djs8891; @caitsymichelle13; @dempy; @midnightmagpiemama; @lovelyladymayyyy; @caidi-paris; @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby; @bellaireland1981; @lethargicluv; @mayhemmanaged; @tenderclio; @lucypaulette; @abaker74; @trhett21; @misshoneypaper; @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker; @eternallyvenus

[emperor-palpaminty]

Ok so for your emergency:

Kiss prompt 6, 11, 30??? Idk none of the prompts match the quote but the quote is:

“After all this time?” “Always.” From Harry Potter,, if you don’t get context, you can watch a yt video 😍😍

I'll take this as reuniting with Rex after hanging with the Bad Batch for a while and reuniting with him in episode like... what episode was Rex in? Anyways, look at the gif below, why my man so WIDE???

You leaned against the outside of Cid's joint, sipping on your canteen. Fresh water replenished your thirst, and you sighed. The Force was stronger in you now than it ever had been. You were just lucky you were with clones that couldn't execute Order 66, to the extent of your knowledge.

You sucked in another breath of the damp air. The door to Cid's cracked open, and a little blonde head peered out. "Hey," Omega lilted, lips twisting into a grin. "You should... come in."

"I like it out here."

Omega gave a noise of protest, and you sighed, unable to fight back, closing the flask and walking inside. You'd grown close to the girl in your time on the run, relating to her because she, in her own way, was on the run and outcast, too.

You entered, passing two fussing aliens, speaking in a tongue you didn't recognize, but you knew they were arguing or complaining. You did catch the word "clones" and laughed softly, deciding Wrecker or Hunter had made them lose a bet.

You rounded the corner of the doorway. "Hunter, Omega told me-" your eyes landed on five, not four, clones.

Hunter shifted, turning to you, his arm resting on the counter. Tech rotated in his barstool, glancing at Wrecker, who was in joyous tears. Echo glanced between you and Captain Rex, who was staring with a tenderness you never thought you would see again.

"Rex-" you croaked. You took a step back.

Rex started forward, brow creased, lips in a soft smile. "Hi." When you moved away another step, and you heaved a sob, he frowned. "I know you don't-" his eyes flicked down to your hand, which was reaching for your lightsaber. His face lit in recognition, the realization hitting him. "Darling, I'm not going to hurt you." He raised his hands up where you could see them, above his poncho, pressing them towards you in a friendly motion. "Hunter, take my guns."

You stared at his hands, eyes flickering to his face. You took a cautious step forward, reading him, feeling for him, another sob making your voice hoarse. Hunter pulled the guns from Rex's belt, laying them on a table, and he glanced at the rest of the batch. "Hey, let's... go meet in the back."

Wrecker grumbled about abandoning his drink, but he picked up Omega and followed the group. Hunter glanced back and smiled, reaching for the door to the back room. "Let us know if you need anything."

When the door shut, you stayed where you were, eyes still skimming the Captain. "You're dead," You moved towards him and he followed, the poncho swaying easily with his movements.

"No. I'm here." He croaked.

You reached up, gently laying a hand on his face. The skin was warm, but his eyes were warmer, filled with love and tenderness. "My Captain."

"My Jedi." Rex whispered. His free hand caught yours, and the other pressed against yours over his face. His voice tremored, threatening tears. "My beloved, wonderful, beautiful-"

"I'm not really a Jedi anymore, Rex." You swallowed. "I lost the order, and then Crosshair-" You stopped, swallowing, allowing the wave of grief to wash over you again. The sob that caught in your throat earlier rose a little, thickening your voice. "And you."

Rex caught you. You weren't sure how to explain it, you were not falling, but he wrapped his arms around you and everything became stable, fine, whole again. You clutched him, feeling his armor under the poncho, heaving a sob as he held up steady, his own breath shaky with sobs. "I love you," He mumbled. "I still love you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry about Order 66, it's wasn't-"

"I love you too, Rex." You mumbled. He pulled his face away from your neck, turning his head towards you, his nose bumping yours. "I love you for everything you are, and Order 66 is not one. I was just so worried earlier."

He smiled, a huff of air leaving as he looked down at you, eyes unable to leave your face. "After all this time?"

"Always," You sobbed, holding his cheeks, your own shoulders shaking. "Always, and forever, Rex."

He smiled- the crows feet and laugh lines he only showed to you, it stirred your heart, and you wanted to cry and smile and hold him all at the same time. Rex leaned down, pressing his lips softly against yours, letting you clutch the rough material of his poncho as you smiled against him, returning the embrace. The apologies, the confessions, the love, was all written on his lips, and you had a yearning ti taste every last word.

You hugged around him, tighter, sighing, for once perfectly content with how everything was. At least,, until the back room door cracked, and Cid yelled, "Yeesh, get a room!"

[loveofafangirl]

My Beautiful Baron

[Baron Zemo Masterlist] [Marvel Masterlist]

Pairing: Baron Zemo x Reader (no gender, race, body type given)

Synopsis: Zemo returns home from a mission with some minor injuries that you insist on caring for. *Fluff, Comfort/Care*

TW: non-graphic descriptions of cuts and bruises with mention of blood, brief mention of a handgun

Word Count: ~950

A/N: Zemo needed a beard so I gave him one in the edit in my title card: My Beautiful Beared Baron 😍🙈! It's not the best, but if anyone is interested, I can post the edit separately.

You turn your head quickly at the sound of the front door clicking shut. You jump to your feet, instinctively retrieving one of the small handguns concealed within the house. You hold the weapon close, listening to the sound of footsteps cautiously striding through your home. Your lips curl in the corner as you tap the safety back on—you'd know those footsteps anywhere.

"You're home early?" You call cheerfully, dashing toward the source of the noise.

"Helm?" You find him in the bedroom. Even facing away from you, you can sense the tension in his posture, despite his slumped shoulders. Your pulse quickens, "What's wrong?"

"I had hoped not to disturb you. It is nothing." His reassuring tone does little to calm your worries as he keeps his back toward you.

"What's wrong," you repeat more firmly. Your gaze settles on his coat lying across the ottoman at the foot of your bed and the red crimson color tinting its fur collar. "Is that blood?" You realize the question is foolish before you finish uttering it. Of course, it was blood—this wasn't the first time, but he seemed different. "Is it your blood?"

Reluctantly, Zemo turns to you, a regretful sigh leaving his downward lips. "Alas, as I said, it is nothing—just a scratch."

You try to school your expression as your fingertips brush lightly over his left cheek, which was far more than scratched. He doesn't move, but you notice slight creases around his eyes as he tries not to flinch under your touch.

The deep cut dug across his cheekbone has swollen shut, dried blood scabbed over the opening. You feel the warmth radiating from the wound as your hand hovers there, assessing the injury. "Let me get you something."

He wraps his hands around yours, bringing it to his lips to kiss. His knuckles are deep red, tinting toward purple. His gloves had prevented any cuts or abrasions, but they couldn't stop the bruising. "Please do not trouble yourself, Liebling. I have suffered worse."

"I know, but that doesn't mean you must suffer alone now." You run your free hand gingerly through his hair. "We take care of each other. Always."

He leans into your touch. His eyes close momentarily as a smile crosses his face.

"Now—" You raise your voice confidently and narrow your gaze challengingly at him. "I am going to gather some things. You are going to get out of those clothes, put something more comfortable on, and then sit there while I take care of you."

Zemo's head tilts to the side, and his brow arches, piqued by your tone. A low chuckle slips from his lips, but he does as you've ordered.

"Good boy," you tease before hurrying off to the master bathroom. You grab some antiseptic, antibiotic cream, and cotton pads. You dampen a warm cloth and retrieve a towel.

You're pleased to see that the rest of him is mostly intact. Aside from a bruise forming on the side of his torso, his wounds are minor compared to what you worried could be hiding beneath his clothes. Still, your heart races in your chest, knowing that every time he leaves, you never know what could go wrong or how he might return to you.

Zemo sits on the edge of the bed, waiting for you. His posture is more relaxed out of what he considers his uniform. You'd made the mistake of likening it to Captain America's costume once and questioning the practicality of wearing a long coat with a fur collar into battle. Although he assured you it had its pragmatic purpose (unlike the stars and stripes), you couldn't help but think he liked how it looked—and who were you to disagree because he looked damn good.

You stroke the hair away from his face and press a kiss to his forehead, taking a moment to breathe in his familiar scent. You lift the wet cloth over the cut on his cheek, letting it warm the area as you gently clean up the traces of blood that remained. You reach for the antiseptic, pouring some on the cotton round. Even though the wound appears sealed, you can tell it's still fresh enough that it'll sting. You take care not to press too deep, gently letting the wash into the cut.

His eyes close, and a quiet whimper sneaks through his pressed lips.

"My beautiful Baron," you whisper, cradling his jaw. Your thumb strokes tenderly over his beard as you blow over the liquid, easing the burning sensation. Your lips ghost over the area, kissing it softly once the antiseptic has dried. "Better?"

He nods. His soulful eyes meet yours in utter adoration as he looks up at you, "Mein Schatz."

You chew your lower lip, holding back your smile. You dab some antibiotic cream across the wound, hoping it will promote healing and prevent any infections. You tilt his face to make sure you haven't missed anything, checking his neck and shoulders as well. Unfortunately, you can't do much for the bruises settling in. "You need rest."

Zemo wraps his arms around your hips, keeping you close. "I need you."

You curl your finger under his chin and lower your lips to his. You kiss him slowly, guiding him back further onto the bed, shifting your bodies until you have him where you wanted him. "You can have both."

He caresses your cheek, guiding your lips back toward him. His movements are soft and unhurried as he allows his body to relax under the warmth of your care.

You tangle your fingers with his, bringing them between you. Tenderly, you kiss each finger one at a time, your soft lips brushing over his knuckles and every developing bruise. He had suffered enough for one lifetime. Now, he had you, and you would always be there to ease his every pain, as he had always done for you.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this latest Zemo fic. This can be read as a one-shot, or as a developing relationship between Zemo and Reader A from my masterlist.

Tags in a reblog, please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[undermattsun-archive]

“why can’t u be more like your kuya iwa? he’s studying sports medicine” little do they know he’s using u for anatomy practice 😍-L

a/n: no but it’s the way this was rotting in my drafts for so long ksdfhk im so sorry L i doubt u even remember asking this cus it was so long ago, but anyway THE KUYA HAJIME AGENDA LIVES ON but yeah this is just a short little slice nothing major!!

and for those who don’t know kuya = older brother/cousin (usually)

18+ set post-timeskip

warnings: INCEST, no if ands or buts this is cest and minors do not come near or i will start a riot, no explicit sexual content but there’s some on the line touching and it could also be implied <3

“Seriously Kuya, I don’t wanna.” You whine, hoping that your usual pout will get you out of your brother’s taping practice. Although you never minded lending a hand to your brother and being his obedient little practice dummy, it was boring sitting there and the sticky residue was annoying to get off. The only plus being that it earns you his undivided attention.

“I have prewrap this time it’s okay, baby.” He smiles at you gently, the rare pet name sending a flutter through your heart as you nod begrudgingly, keeping that pout firmly set. “Now sit still.”

You chew at your lip, schooling your expression into something more passive as you settle further onto his bed, watching quietly as he sits by your feet, grabbing your ankle and dragging you closer.

There's a tickle in your chest, always in awe of how strong yet gentle your Kuya is. 

Carefully he takes the bright red prewrap, your admiration only growing as callused fingers skillfully wrap the bright red fabric over your ankle. The mastery in his motions has your mouth drying, that taboo yet curious thought of how it would feel to have adept fingers dancing along your flesh.

How it would feel to have them digging deep into your cunt. 

There’s a surge of heat in your chest and cheeks, shaking your head as if the sinful thoughts could fall right out. A wave of paranoia biting at your heels that your Kuya just might be able to read your naughty thoughts. 

“I said don’t move, be good for me.” He chastises, the crease in his brow forcing you to go deathly still. 

Be good for Kuya, be good for Kuya.

Your mind is racing as he continues to circle your ankle with the tape, holding back a squeal as his other hand slides up your calf, firmly gripping onto you at the base of your knee. 

“You’re thinkin’ a little loud, baby. Something you want to say?” His hand shifts, fingers now tracing along the back of your thigh, you try to keep your legs from trembling but your failure is more than apparent.

“Just that, just that Kuya is so good at this.” You whisper, unsure if you should keep your eyes on the hand crawling dangerously up your leg or on the suspiciously passive expression of your Kuya Hajime who’s still wrapping your ankle.

“There’s a lot of things I’m good at.” He replies nonchalantly, suddenly retracting his hand to rip the tape and tamp it down. “Let me try your other ankle, but if you keep moving I get to tie you down.”