#gray's hair is fluffy enough for the both of them its okay

[pencilofawesomeness]

I had plans but seeing Loke for @fairytail-redraw derailed them so I had to draw him first.

Once again I spend a lot of details on his funky eyes just for them to not be visible because a) small and b) he's hiding them behind glasses.

Anyway bonuses under the cut

His funky eyes and my brain the entire time drawing this pose:

[poopersdoopers]

Yeah? Yeah.

A little something with plus sized fem reader x Sanji. He loves you and you love him. nsfw things happen.

Fluffy, smutty smut. Don't like don't read. Can't be bothered to proof read.

Sometimes, you couldn’t believe that such a prince fell for you of all people. Even as you sat on top of him and covered in his strong arms.

The warmth emanating from his large tanned chest could never lie to you. Proof of his affection thumping in his heartbeat. You sighed to the song, smiling to yourself:  you were the only woman to get to know him this intimately. You were his and he was yours. 

The cook’s long, thick fingers cupped at the back of your head, smoothing over your curls gently. 

“I’ve been waiting for you all day long”, he murmured into your hair before placing a gentle kiss at the top of it. The rumble of his words spread across your body, letting  a familiar warmth spread across your body. You smiled wider, “I missed you too”, you crook your face up to look at the blonde.

He was beaming –ethereal— and you almost couldn’t take it, blue-gray eyes shining in a devotion that you still weren’t sure you deserved. You smoothed his bangs out of his face, to really look at him. 

“You’re wonderful, you know Sanji?”

The blonde man blushed slightly, not fully used to your compliments. You nuzzled into his neck, feeling his stubble tickle against your face. 

“You’re perfect.”

Now it was your time to blush. You wanted to believe his words but you decided that trusting his actions would do well enough. Maybe one day you could rewire each others’ brains. Maybe one day you both could rewrite the past. But for now you’d always have each others open arms. 

“Stop hiding and look at me,” Sanji commanded gently. You bite your lip and sit up taller in his lap. He grabbed your chin, thumb pressed against your bottom lip. Your teeth bit down harder in anticipation. 

“Didn’t I tell you to stop doing that?” His eyes darkened slightly, “Yeah?” 

Suddenly you were shivering under his unrelenting gaze. 

“Yeah”, you answered. 

“Yeah.” He licked his pink lips, before leaning in and finally capturing yours. His thinner lips drank in your needy sighs, tongue licking at the spot you bit before. 

The cook’s hands traced along your neck before rubbing circles at the crock. You gasped, giving his pink lips more access to your mouth. 

You melted into the touch you always trusted. Long fingers, smoothing down your shoulders and arms, as his tongue lightly glides along the tops of your teeth and into your mouth. Your plush lips tingling at the sensation, as you moan.

He pulls back, alarming you, “ Just let me take care of you, like I’ve been imaging all day. Yeah?”

“Yeah”, you replied, slightly dazed by the cook’s ministrations. But as always, he would keep you tethered to him in your arms. The blonde’s hands took yours and moved them to wrap around his neck again. 

“Yeah”, he breathes out, “and if you don’t like anything ?”

“I promise I’ll let you know.”

“Good girl”, he smiles again, blue-gray eyes never leaving your brown. How he managed to look so pretty while he pulled you apart — you would never know.

Feeling a little braver, you pecked him on the lips. This earns a kiss back and soon you two are back to getting lost in each other’s arms.

A calloused hand travels down to where your shirt meets your ass, rubbing circles onto the large flesh. Your arms tighten its grip around your lover’s neck, back arching into the soft touch.

“Is this okay?” You were mush.

“Yeah! Keep going.” You gave him no time to second-guess.

He grabbed at your fleshy mound. You gasped.

His thick fingers dug a little harder, before spreading the two mounds. 

“Fuck baby, I love your ass. I can’t believe I am the only one who gets to play with it.” 

He smacks your ass lightly, watching the flesh bounce to his delight. 

You could feel his hard on growing against your front. You felt yourself clench against nothing.

“M-more”, you demand.

Instead of going where you needed him most, his hands flew grab at your stomach.

“I love this part just as much”, he emphasizes with a kiss to your temple.

You roll your eyes, knowing the girls he’s been with before were half your size and far more tight in certain areas.

“I’m serious!”

“It’s okay, Sanji you don’t have to lie to make me feel better”.

“Y/n, I love every part of you, especially here it’s too cute”, His hand holds your hips against his hard-on. You want to move to grind against it, but it was no use. 

“Whatever you say, Sanji”.

“I -”, you kiss him again to shut him up. Loosening, his strong arm’s grip against your hips, so you could finally start moving. The blonde retaliates by snaking his hand up to meet your chest. You grind your clit against his bulge, mouth releasing his in surprise.

“You know what I really like the most?”, his large fingers grip on your mounds, “These, you’re so sensitive sweetheart.”

Fingers rub around your areola, then pinch at the buds.You yelp.

“I’ve been waiting to play with your tits all day.They’re always so hard. It’s like you’re teasing me in that big shirt. Do you like teasing, Daddy sweetheart?” His fingers pinch harder, before pulling roughly.

“No, I - I can’t help it, Daddy! You keep playing with them every night.”, your hips moved faster on his lap. “They’re Daddy’s tits to play with”, he smacks your breast.

You plead for him to play with your pussy and make you cum. But there was no use. You were Sanji’s and he would decide when you would cum. 

The blonde continued to ignore your plea, rolling your sensitive buds between his forefinger and thumb, “And that big shirt does nothing to hide your big ass. All day I watched it swallow up those cute little panties. All day I watched it jiggle like you were begging to be fucked. And you want more?”

Instead of answering him, you whined higher at his words, ground your pussy harder onto his front. 

“You think you could cum just from me playing with your tits, yeah?”

You could feel your peak approaching just from his words alone you knew there was no way you’d last with such pointed ministrations on your sensitive body.

“Yeah.”

[imfelinefinee]

I’m not sure how familiar you are with Monday Night Munchin (F/N/F), so if you’re not, that’s don’t worry about it! May I request some comfort noms with P.ico, b.f, and g.f? Both b.f and g.f canonically hate thunder storms, so maybe P.ico should nom them!

Hiya! I am a lil familiar with F/n/f! Not too much but I do happen to know the basics of the lore and thanks to a 20 minute explanation video, i managed to scramble this silly lil thing together! I'm sorry if it's a bit short, I tried wdjadnandwja

Drip, drip, dip.

NSFW DNI

Words: 1.6K+

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, Soft/Safe vore

Pairing: B.F x G.F & Pred!P.ico

Racing droplets of rain poured down from the shut window, a clear surface between the roaring cold weather and the shelter of the apartment the two resided in for the safety and warmth provided to them. 

Yet, it didn’t feel as safe as they’d hoped.

Thunder crackled with laughter in the distance, a harsh cracking as it pierced the sound barrier and struck down with the might of Zeus. Striking down on the ground below as it engaged in its attack against the dreary conditions of the city. 

The blinding flash quickly enveloped their eyes, stressing them to the point of pain as they closed their eyes in reaction to the light. The dark gray clouds swirled like smoke in the air, the air pressure pressing up against each other in a discharge of electricity.

A fearsome foe, one that surpassed the man they called Daddy Dearest. Only this could compare to a man sending literal assassins to their doorstep in opposition to the weather outside. 

They enjoyed the weather in most cases, making snow angels in the crunchy soft ice together, and sipping hot chocolate in the autumn breeze. Traveling the beach in the shining sun, to enjoy the freedom of the sea only to get sunburned after they decide to relax from the excitement. 

Even in the solemn calm weather on a spring day, enjoying one another’s company as they made flower crowns for one another. Yet, the one thing they feared most. Despite having faced literal demons, they feared thunder like a kryptonite. Their one true weakness to everything else they’d experienced thus far.

Cradling the whimpering man to her chest, hardly able to hold her composure as she clung back to the head in her lap. Attempting to shelter him from the weather outside despite flinching upon hearing the frightening sounds behind her.

A synthesized drawn-out note cried out in a fearful screech, clutching the fabric of her signature dress in a tight squeeze. Holding on in fear of losing his beloved, in stark contrast to the man who always faced danger with a smile in his cheerful songs.

The thought comforted her that he was willing to show his fear to her, be open and vulnerable. An important aspect in a relationship, and for the two of them; She held her head up high, only to falter again and again until she shook like a leaf.

Her fear caught up with her, embracing her partner in a full embrace as she looked for refuge in his arms. With a shaking arm, he returned the embrace by gently caressing the locks of her fluffy brown hair.

They clung to each other like magnets, refusing to separate no matter what. The only comfort was their hugs and the warmth provided by the light beside them. A small candle roughly the size of their bodies, flickering with a small flame atop the wick. Dripping with wax as it melted from the heat.

The rest of the room was pitch black, taken in by the shadow of the moon. The electrical power of the apartment complex had been stripped away by the very storm they feared. The three of them had attempted to play video games such as WII sports to distract from the monster that was the weather.

Which all went to shit.

A quivering voice of electronic beeps murmured to her, holding her close as he expressed his comfort to her. Trying to remind her that it would all be okay soon enough, that they were safe as he held her tighter to his chest.

“I know- I know- I just-”, she was cut off as she nearly screamed at the sound a particularly loud one roared behind them, sounding far too close for comfort. Only to let out a loud shriek in the process, her eyes sparkling with tears as her lips quivered. Hiding into Boyfriend’s chest for a tender embrace.

Boyfriend also cried out, shaking as he held his partner closer to him as a means of support, a means of balance within the instability of fear that plagued them in a tortuous dance. Normally, the two of them would sing to one another with a radio beside them. Yet, they weren’t given that privilege after having to abandon their equipment behind.

There had been an incident, another assassination attempt by her father. Boyfriend fought back in his signature way of rap battles, only to piss off their opponent and went barreling towards them in a fury.

But fortunately, Pico came to the rescue.

The man in question came barging into the room in a panic, anxious as he scanned for the two on his window. Upon seeing them, let out a sigh of relief. He carefully approached the two with soft steps so as not to suddenly spook them, softly whispering to get their attention as the two of them shook like whimpering puppies.

“Hey- You guys hungry?”, he gestured towards a packet of crisps in his hand. It was open, flavored but it was likely one of the only snacks he had left over after abandoning his home for some time. A result of doing mercenary work.

After rescuing the two from their situation, the two hadn’t been in the best condition since it had started pouring down a waterfall of rain. His eyes lidded with concern as he took in the sight of the two of them, left out in the open vulnerable to the dangers outside.

He reminisced on his older days in high school, attending the school as friends or practically lovers until their later separation. He still cared for the guy, a lot since then. He remembered the times when he’d cradle him to his chest as he cried whenever it happened to rain. And now, there were two of them within his care.

With the tip of his finger, he stroked the heads of fluffy blue locks atop his head with lidded eyes. Worried about his friend and Blue’s significant other, he found himself jealous of the attention she received but a kindred spirit. Someone who he’d trust with Boyfriend to care for and look after. 

Even despite his jealousy, she was still his friend foremost.

The sounds of dripping rain used to be relaxing to him, reminding him of the time he spent with them. But now it seemed to be a hindrance, scaring his companions helpless. If only he had somewhere to hide them away…

An idea sprung to mind.

“Hey Boyfriend- Remember when we were back in high school- We would get in trouble and you’d need a place to hide from the teachers?”, a small smile appeared on his face at the memory. A fond one for him to look back on.

Boyfriend quickly sprung up from his cower, his eyes widening in surprise as he opened his mouth in a series of beeps and boops in his main dialect of speech. Confirming the memory of the events and asking him a question.

He nodded in response, Boyfriend returning his quivering smile amidst his fear. Gently shook his partner as he explained in musical notes on their conversation what Pico had planned for the two of them.

Girlfriend seemed hesitant upon hearing the idea but didn’t seem opposed to it entirely, Boyfriend volunteered to go first before her to show that it was safe, despite having placed her trust in Boyfriend. She appreciated it nonetheless.

He lay out his palm in the offering, watching as the blue-haired male detached from his partner onto the open hand. Slowly bringing him towards his face, opening his mouth to reveal his blunt teeth and hesitant tongue.

He watched as Boyfriend confidently jumped from his hand into his maw, shocking him for a moment as he hadn’t expected the action before him. It looked as though the man hadn’t changed at all despite his recent maturity, he still showed the same amount of trust as he had since his high school days.

He felt the boy embrace his tongue in a hug, holding back a laugh as he playfully rolled his eyes towards his partner. Shutting his mouth as he swallowed quickly, feeling the weight slowly go from his throat into his spacious stomach with a plop.

Next was Girlfriend. 

He offered his hand to her as he had to Boyfriend, reassuring in his gaze as he noticed her hesitancy in her step. 

“It’s alright- I promise”, he comforted. She met his gaze, nodding in acceptance as she went to step onto his hand. 

Only to slip upon the sound of another thunderstrike.

He quickly reacted, grabbing her into his hands as soon as she began to fall. Catching her safely into his palm; he opened his mouth, carefully placing her inside with an usher of safety for her wellbeing.

Gulping her down alongside Boyfriend, feeling the weight drop down into his stomach as the walls cradled the two. The man in question quickly welcomed his partner with tender arms, holding her as the two sat down against the wall of his belly, cradled by the warmth provided by the space.

He soon heard the two snore softly in sleep as he rubbed his stomach soothingly, only to feel a wave of exhaustion come over him. Letting out a yawn from his tiredness, deciding the best option was to creep into bed and fall asleep himself.

He quickly wrapped the blankets around his body, not caring for the boots on his feet. A firearm on his nightstand in case of emergency as he placed a protective hand over his lower chest. Feeling himself slowly fall asleep upon focusing on the weight inside of him. Deciding to join them in the world of dreamy sleep, he soon fell too.

Fading to the darkness of the night, the storm slowly turned to a small downpour with the pitter-patter of the window, gentle as it had back in the days. A gentle drizzle of drips.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

[lupunsus]

i want to write fluff. i (you people) need to remember the good sides of this au (non-existent) because yanderes can be nice (questionable)

Anyway, amputated mouse reader with Al-Haitham and Kaveh bc i finished the story quest, and they're literally fucking each other every other day istg

based on genshin hybrid au idea by @cinnamonest

while writing this, it was pure fluff... but my demons whispered in my ear, so there's nsfw in it. im sorry, but my resolve is weak against poly relationship with Kaveh and Al-Haitham.

warning: masturbation, the hybrid is actually the pervert in this one, a bit of angst bc hybrid thinks they aren't good enough to be sandwiched between two hot men despite being loved lots but they want their pp even though they know nothing about having sex with a human

Kaveh is too kind, really.

If it wasn't for him, you wouldn't have had such a warm and loving home that cared deeply for you. Having the part of your leg below the knee taken away by bad people with awful traps was sad, but Kaveh and his partner, Al-Haitham, made sure to make you forget about that problem!

Of course, sometimes they argued about things relating to you.

"You claim to be so smart, but what's smart about giving them a pegleg?!" Kaveh glared at Al-Haitham while holding you in his arm. The other held out the object, dropping it in front of the gray-haired man. It was cute to see you hobble around at first. But then you fell over, and tears started to form in your eyes. You were so adorable!! But also, you should never be in pain while under the care of Kaveh and Al-Haitham!! You were fine, just a small bruise, but being the overreacting person he is, Kaveh had to make a big deal out of it.

To others, it would seem like he was making the situation sound worse than it is, but Al-Haitham is just like him. He's just a quiet worrier.

"I suppose I should readjust some things. If I were to buy some parts–"

"Peglegs are unnecessary when we can just carry [Name] around!"

"But then they'd have to crawl around the house if we aren't home."

"We'll put soft rugs down!!"

It's a good thing Dori resides in Sumeru. Her nose can smell potential customers all the way to the desert, but the biggest spenders are always Akademiya students. So when it comes to needing supplies for hybrids, Dori's the one to go to!

But that's a lot of soft rugs. What are you raising? A baby? It's okay. Dori won't ask, just hand over the mora. Thank you~

If anyone were to see Al-Haitham and Kaveh while they lugged a load of rugs to their place, they'd assume Kaveh was getting help with a new project. Nobody knows about the lucky little mouse waiting inside, as the rugs are for them. "Thank you masters! [Name] likes a lot!!" The texture was indeed fluffy and soft. One could wrap themselves up and sleep inside of one. That's how cozy it felt.

It's a shame that the pegleg would sit in storage to collect dust. Maybe one day it'll have its use.

Days when Kaveh is out and Al-Haitham is home are the best days. Why? The two of you do absolutely nothing. You make yourself comfy on top of him and take a nice long nap. Sometimes Al-Haitham will read to you, teaching you some words and whatnot. His voice is nice, however, so most of the time, he looks down to see you drooling all over his chest while deep in slumber. It's the main reason why he stopped wearing shirts during those times. Too much of a hassle to wash them. Kaveh doesn't complain, even doing the same.

Both of their chests make for good pillows, and their skin is always so warm. You definitely start drooling more when you're sleeping on them.

Kaveh is fun to be around, too!

He's made some toys for you to play with, but he doesn't mention how Al-Haitham helped. You didn't ask, so technically, he isn't lying to you. Do you know those cat wheels? Kind of big, enough for a human, maybe if they were to crouch down. Anyway, Kaveh made that for you! A nice little wheel to run to your little heart's content. It's super cute seeing you use it, especially when you get tired.

You just lay there in a puddle of exhaustion, and he takes the opportunity to scratch and nuzzle his face in your tummy. If you're ticklish, you try to push him off, but you're too tired to do so. Kaveh rewards you with treats and stuff to chew on, so it balances itself out. Plus, his belly rubs feel good.

Honestly, living with them makes you forget that you're missing half of your leg.

Almost.

You're a bit clumsy, especially when both of them are busy. During those times, they tend to leave a lot of things laying about. Books, well mainly stacks of books, but there's also occasionally some other stuff. And with how often Kaveh and Al-Haitham redecorate the place, things that are usually in a position you're used to are inevitably moved, and objects put in hard to reach places.

So when you trip or hurt yourself because of it, it's hard not to let a few tears fall. Would it be easier if you had two healthy legs? Of course, it'd be easier to balance yourself with two legs instead of one and a half. These negative thoughts start to spiral until you think about how useless you are to your masters.

All hybrids in shelters know that their purpose is to serve and please their masters. You weren't a stranger to the knowledge, even hearing of how if the hybrid is good, they'll be treated the same and even receive assistance during their... spring season.

But you're damaged goods! Unused, but still damaged! You require more care than the average hybrid, needing special attention and accommodations because of your small size. Neither of the men touched you in that way. Instead, they gave you space and sometimes left the house.

You could smell their scents on each other.

Why were you even here if they had each other to pleasure? You were grateful to even have such a nice home, but what were you to them? A pet? Or worse... an experiment? You've heard stories of fellow rodents being used for tests and experiments. They weren't harmed, but they weren't as loved as other hybrids in homes.

Ah, maybe you were a charity case.

A poor little mouse with half a leg missing. Nobody would want them as caring for them is so expensive, and you'd need to rearrange furniture and make the entire place practically baby proof. Perhaps you were a child to them. But you're definitely past that age! And what will happen to you if they do manage to conceive one? It's unheard-of for a male hybrid to get pregnant, but there are rare cases of it happening. Some can happen with the intervention of researchers, but only psychopaths (Dottore) would experiment with that.

Well, whatever. You're exhausted after overthinking and making yourself insecure and depressed.

The two men you loved with your entire being said they would be out late, but were they just having fun without you? Ah, you already told yourself to stop assuming things and thinking negatively, but it was hard. You wanted to be with them, too! Even during those times... There was only one thing that could help clear away these negative thoughts.

That's right. Stealing.

Borrowing would be a better word. You always put their clothes back! ...With the dirty clothes. Kaveh would be confused, not recalling wearing some of them, but blamed it on the alcohol. Al-Haitham made Kaveh do laundry, so he never spoke about it. He did express his impatience at how Kaveh takes forever to wash clothes, but that was it. They wouldn't think that their precious little mouse was to blame for the misunderstanding and confusion.

You'll never know it, but they think you're incapable of doing anything without them. Of course, you get exercise from your wheel, but they still feed, bathe, and clothe you (you're mainly naked unless they have guests over) with their own hands. The only things you should be doing without them are running on the wheel and chewing on your toys.

Going back to your session of "borrowing," it was usually something you did during the day when they were out, but since they're out late, you figured stealing more clothes of theirs again wouldn't get you caught. If they were doing what you thought they were doing, the two of them would get back home when the sun started rising.

So, you had plenty of time to make a nest in your hidden corner and masturbate while being surrounded by their scent.

It was really well hidden! Plus, you still had some clothes from earlier today, so the nest would just be cozier, and the smell of them would be even stronger. There really was nothing better than burying your face in their clothes while getting yourself off. It only helped to fuel your dirty desires.

Would they take you at the same time? You were confident that you stretched yourself to take both of them (you are definitely not), even using 3 fingers instead of 2! Surely, they'll both fit. But would they take turns instead? Impossible. They bicker so often that you think one of them will get impatient. And then there comes with that thing humans do. Kissing? You've only ever received forehead kisses from Kaveh, but you wanted more than that. Both men thought they were secret in kissing each other, and even if they weren't, they explained it as a way to share energy even if they both were out of breath afterward.

That was what you wanted. You wanted to give all your energy to them. To be drained until there was nothing left to give, even if they were insistent and shared with you their energy just so they could take it back.

"M-Masters...!" It was a relief that you came before your arm became weak. For some reason, you could only bring yourself to cum twice before your wrist felt numb. Maybe you needed to exercise more, you didn't know. You were still sensitive, so you opted to grind against their clothes to reach another high.

On any other day, you'd feel horrible for getting the clothes of your Masters dirty with your essence (or, as you like to call it, your love for them), but you were upset for always being left out! And they'd always tease you too. Going around the house topless. You have to hold back from pouncing on them and rubbing your nipples against theirs. You've done it before when sleeping on Al-Haitham's chest, but that time was an accident. It felt really good, though...

And the material of their clothes rubbing against them now felt incredible, but you really wanted to feel their hands and bodies against them. To have them pinched and squeezed even though no milk would come out. You heard hybrids can lactate if their nipples are squeezed and sucked periodically, so maybe if you play with them every day, you can give them a nice surprise.

Milk is delicious, after all!

Bringing yourself to the edge for the sixth time, you collasped onto the nest, exhausted from grinding against clothes. At most, you could only last three rounds, but this is an improvement! Humans generally go for seven rounds, so you are really close! But you're so tired... do humans really do it so many times? Their stamina sure is amazing.

You had time before your masters came back, so a nap wouldn't hurt. Plus, you were very hidden in this corner! Even if you overslept, they wouldn't be able to find you. You even threw a blanket over pillows on the couch just in case :) You've seen Kaveh do it, so it'll definitely trick them into thinking you're asleep.

It truly is unfortunate that you think you could outsmart two Akademiya graduates.

Al-Haitham is used to Kaveh's tricks, so he immediately knows you're hiding. You haven't figured out how to unlock the door, and there's even another few locks that you can't reach even if you manage to figure it out. Windows are too complicated to unlock for you, too. It's while he's narrowing down possibilities that Kaveh is calling out for you, thinking you were playing hide and seek, but fell asleep while waiting for them.

Kaveh thinks it's adorable and fun to look for the obvious tail sticking out from behind something. It isn't until Al-Haitham notices some of their clothes sticking out from underneath a table in the corner that he knows where you are and what you've been doing. How could he not? You practically begged them and threw a fit just to keep the table in its spot. It wasn't really hidden, but nobody would notice if someone or something were under it.

Calling over his partner, they looked to see you slumbering on top of their clothes, using their shirts as blankets. It would've been a cutely innocent sight if not for the fact you hadn't cleaned yourself up. "They've used more clothes than usual, but their heat is 3 weeks away.." Al-Haitham gently rubbed the inside of your thigh, causing your body to shift. Kaveh moved some of the shirts aside to see your reddened nipples perked up. He wanted to pinch them, but he settled on flicking one, smiling when you mumbled incoherently and squirmed a bit in your sleep. "Maybe they missed us~ We were out longer this time."

"Because someone can't play cards."

"I'd like to see you beat Cyno in less than 7 rounds!"

Realizing his mistake, both men looked towards you as you shifted. "Masters...." Nuzzling your face into their clothes, you let out a content sigh as their comforting smell seemed to be stronger than usual as if they were beside you.

"My skill is not provoking him. You'd have lost in 4 rounds if you had drank alcohol." This time, Kaveh chose to glare at Al-Haitham. The reason he didn't drink tonight was so that he'd be sober enough to remember being welcomed home by someone much cuter and nicer than the Acting Grand Scribe. But seeing you curled up in a nest of their clothes is definitely better.

Al-Haitham only sighed at the sight. "They took the pants I was going to wear tomorrow this time. I'll have to start hiding clothes I need."

"Wait, you knew they were the reason our clothes ended up in the laundry so often?" Al-Haitham only gave Kaveh a look that screamed, "Was it not obvious?" before rearranging the clothes to cover your entire body so you wouldn't get cold. If you weren't peacefully sleeping right in front of them, Kaveh would have yelled some very mean things at Al-Haitham. But that could wait for another day.

After all, they've left their cute little mouse waiting too long.

[kingofthe-egirls]

FIRST TIME: LUFFY x OC (no sex)

fox tales

(cw: angst, fluff, mention of past sexual hurt, love confessions)

Songs: "King" by Florence +the Machine, "Liability" by Lorde

words: 1.6k

🦊🦚🌱

The first time with Luffy is awkward, and scary. You’d never been with a boy this way before. You never knew you could feel this way, before.

Luffy is giggly and giddy, sliding into your bed under blue-dark moonlight from your cabin window. You scamper around, kicking your legs as you get comfortable with the new body in your bed. You’d shared kisses before, but never like this.

“There’s so much of you,” you gasp, marveling at his shoulders. You trace your palms over his muscular arms, his chest, his back. You want to devour him.

He giggles, running his hand over your gray tails, spotted from winter. It's almost spring, now. You’d be light grey soon for your new coat. As it is, half your tails are white, some are spotted, some are already fully grey. You’re happy you have nine. They flick around you like a comforter, warm and soft and fluffy. Luffy dives in like they’re his personal mattress, too.

“There’s so much of you!” He counters, landing with a bounce on top of the bed. You squirm over to one side, nervous and shy. His hands are warm to the touch, and you keep shaking over the thought of “mine.”

“You’re mine,” you say, unabashed. Deciding to glare up at him through your fear, chin lifted in defiance. “No one else can have you like this.” Both yours and his clothes are all scattered across the room, bare skin pale in the moonlight. His skin is darker than yours, scars glowing rose in the night.

“Alright,” he says, catching your palm on his chest, and squeezing. His heart beats steady beneath your hand. “I’m yours, Kit. And you’re mine, too.”

“Okay,” you squeak, temporary defiance now melting through your bravery. You want to be small again, cowardly and meek. You bring your legs up to your chest, wrap your arms around them.

How do you begin?

With a kiss, you guess, and reach up to take his face in both hands. He lowers down to your face, rough hands circling your wrists. Your lips meet, and you sigh. Something is aching in your chest.

“Do you feel that?” You grunt in discomfort, grasping at your chest. Your skin is bare, your breasts are out, but there’s something lodged behind your ribcage that needs to come out.

“Feel what?” He asks, innocent. He leans back on his heels. The bed creaks beneath his weight. You shift to one side, sit up.

“This—this aching,” you say, grimacing. He frowns at you, brow drawn tight over dark eyes. You twist your lips to one side, trying to explain. “Like…like I need you,” you hedge, and take a shaky breath before you can continue. He looks like he’s about to interrupt you, but you shake your head, holding up a hand.

“And not just need you, like how we are now. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you—,” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. You heave out a fiery exhale. “Like, I need you all the time. I need your scent, I need your air. I need your breath in my ear. I need your nose pressed into my hair, I need you to inhale. Just,” you shift to your knees, both hands pressed on your chest like prayer. Your tails float mindfully around you, irritated and awake. Your body is scratching for something, and you will give it what it needs.

“Just make love to me,” you say, finally. Chest heaving, sobs falling. “I don’t want you to fuck me for the sake of it. I need you to like me—,”

“I do like you!”

“I need you to be careful with me!” You shake your head vehemently, storms raging behind your chest. “I need you to make love to me!” You say again. Bitterness creeps its way up your throat. “It’s not enough to just get fucked, it’s not enough to just fall flat. I don’t want you to leave me, after. I don’t want you to leave me, ever.” You stare at him with hungry eyes, desperate for affection and pleading with care. Do you love me?

“Do you love me, Kit?” He voices the question in your head, and you’re taken aback. You swallow, thickly, and nod your head.

“Yeah,” your voice cracks, “I’m sorry.”

His face darkens.

He is on you in an instant, pushing you down back into the bed. You yelp, chest tight. His forehead is pressed against yours, his nose smushed into your skin. You feel his hot, angry breath puff out on your cheeks. “How dare you,” he speaks. Voice low, and gravelly. “Don’t ever apologize for that to me.” He is your captain, all grey eyes and lightning strikes, and you feel your heartbeat slam inside your chest. It rocks you like a rowboat, leaves you gasping for breath.

“L-Luffy,” you stumble, but he cuts you off with a kiss. It’s hard, fierce, rocks against your lips.

“I’m not sorry for loving you,” he says, “So don’t make me feel ashamed for it. I hate feeling ashamed. Especially about you.” His hands are rough around your wrists, pinning you to your bed. His weight is heavy over you, but he’s trembling, too. Taut, like a bowstring. Ready to be pulled. Ready to come loose.

“I’m sorry—,”

“Stop it!” He says, crashing his mouth into yours again. “Stop saying sorry! I’ll hate you if you say it,” his words are always brutal, honest to a fault. But the captain always gets whatever the hell he wants.

“Don’t hate me,” you squeak, eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t hate you.”

“Good.”

“I’m not sorry for loving you,” you decide, voice slow. His grip loosens, but only slightly. You swallow, staring up at him. He’s still smushed against your face. Your eyes are an inch away from his, and you blink. Try not to hiccup as you sigh out, “‘M sorry I won’t be any good at it,” you finally cave. Your face crumbles, and Luffy buries his own against the crook of your neck. He holds you as you start to cry.

“I’m lousy,” you continue, “I’m no good at love. I only ever use boys to get what I want. But I want you, now, and I—,” you sniffle, struggling for the words. You wrap your arms around him, too. His hair tickles your jaw. You turn to plant a kiss to his scalp, and smell sweat. You want to press him into your side like wax.

“I’m afraid of having sex.”

There, you said it.

Finally.

***

There, you said it.

You squeeze your eyes shut, and hot fat tears roll over onto your cheeks. Luffy’s spiky hair is pressed against your nose, and all you smell is him, him, him.

“Oh, really?” He lifts up, blinking down at you. “Why didn’t you say so? I’m scared, too!” he grins at you. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“W-what?” You stutter, shifting to sit up on your elbows. Your brain is blank. Luffy, scared?

“Obviously,” he says, grinning again, “Isn’t everyone scared their first time?”

“I-I guess so…,” you hedge, pursing your lips. “I didn’t know you would be, though.” Luffy sits up next to you. He reaches out to hold your hand, and you let him. He keeps it on his knee. He’s bare, too.

Moonlight shafts in through the window, painting both of you in blue. The bed creaks a bit as you both shift around, your tails flicking absentmindedly. Luffy catches one at his wrist, wrapping his hand in the soft fur for a moment. “Have you ever had sex?” You ask.

He shakes his head. “But I’ve played with Nami a few times. She likes when I use my mouth on her,” he grins, letting go of your tail tip to scratch the back of his head. He looks sheepish, but not ashamed. You blush.

“Have you?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“A few times, with one boy. He would give me eggs from his family’s farm if I fucked him,” you admit. For the first time, to anyone. Your nose scrunches at the memory. “I didn’t like it very much, though.”

Luffy tilts his head. “Why not?”

You shrug. “It hurt,” you say simply. Laying there on a cold mattress, feeling nothing and smelling hay. You’d rather starve, you’d decided, after one time hurt too much and you’d cried. He’d left you in the hay loft once he saw your tears, too awkward and unfeeling to stick around for aftercare. You didn’t touch yourself for weeks, afterward. Too repulsed by your own body to even bathe. You hadn’t wanted to see your reflection in the water, anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Luffy says, touching the back of your hand. With a jolt, he brings you back to the present. “It’s not supposed to hurt,” he ducks his head to meet your gaze. “I promise I won’t make it hurt.”

The idea of sex without pain is foreign to you, but Luffy is Luffy and he never ever lies. You bite your lip, and nod.

“Okay,” you say, “I trust you.”

Words never spoken aloud by someone like you before, but they hang in the air, glittering like gold. Luffy grins. He runs calloused fingers through your hair. His knuckles are always bruised. (But yours are, too.)

You catch his bottom lip in your teeth, suddenly. He starts, gasping, but grips your hair tighter and pulls you in close. You kiss, deeply, and somewhere from your stomach you growl out a moan. Pleasure pools in between your legs, at the feel of Luffy’s touch. He is warm, and gentle, and firm, and rough. All of these things, at once.

You circle your arms around his neck, and climb into his lap. He smiles up at you, dopey, and you smile back.

[angelseth]

Still I find you next to me.

Erik makes the most important question of their relationship so far. When:  August 16th, 2022 Notes: written on Discord with @erikdragon

Their nest was by far Erik's favorite spot in the whole mansion, also the only place he wouldn't let anyone else inside. Apart from Toothless, of course.

In the middle of what was once a great ballroom with the front wall and ceiling made of glass, there was the softest of mattresses. A king-sized and tall one, with no bed underneath. The black silken bed sheets contrasted with the pale skin of the man lying beside the dragon, both wrapped in cozy fluffy gray covers, limbs tangled into a comfortable mess after much rolling around. A black ball of fluff purred sound asleep by their feet and Erik watched a flock of birds flying over the sea in the distance, the steady heartbeat of the angel mixed with the sound of distant waves providing a soothing soundtrack to the picturesque moment. A smile sneaked its way to his lips when he felt the angel stir awake and Erik ran gentle fingers up the skin of his back, arm safely wrapped around him, keeping their chests pressed together with the angel on top of him. "Good morning, my love."

Emotional roller coasters had never taken a toll on Seth before his fall started. Feeling too much had never been a problem for him, and not it was not a problem per se, but it felt like his heart was too full of love, especially at a moment like this. Waking up had never been such a blissful moment as now. The warmth from Erik’s skin, in addition to the soft sunshine through the glass wall, got the Grigori stirring awake slowly.

“It’s still early,” his words came out as a sleepy mumble as he angel hid his face in the crock of Erik’s neck, letting out a happy sigh, moving his hand to rest right on top of Erik’s heart, “why are you awake already?” the voice still heavy with sleep even if Seth was not that tired anymore. It was that peaceful state of calm lasting a few minutes as soon as you woke up. Just before worry set deep into his bones, causing him to pull away enough to look at his lover, “Is everything okay?”

A sleepy Seth was one of his favorites, Erik has come to know. The smile on his lips widened at the complaint and he chuckled, playing with the unruly strands of his hair. "I was thinking, that's all" he said simply, offering a smile when the angel looked at him "Actually, I was wondering something, thought I'd check with you first" the dragon said conversationally, still caressing his back "Will you marry me, my love?"

The touch of those fingers in his hair served as well as the most effective relaxant Seth had ever known, and it helped a lot to stop his running thoughts and worries. His heartbeat steadied as his dragon assured him, he was merely thinking about something in particular, but little did he know that the next words would make his heart skip a few beats.

It was impossible for Seth to stay in that comfortable position as soon as the question reached his ears. With a speed that was probably not considered human, the Grigori sat up and looked at Erik with a shocked expression. While the thought had crossed the angel’s mind, he had imagined this question would be presented by either of them in the years to come, “Are you being serious?” was the only thing that came from Seth’s lips, still unsure if he was awake or still dreaming.

A month ago, Erik would have freaked out over the surprise, any reaction that wasn't an immediate yes would be enough to trigger some alarms in his head. Now, however, he was so certain of his choice that he just felt at peace. So, with a chuckle, the dragon sat up as well, facing him "Is that so surprising?" Was his answer. Then he figured he'd better elaborate.

"Well, I was just thinking about how months ago I gave you my heart, yeah, but lately I've come to realize just how deep is your hold into my being." He said, reaching out for his hand, gently playing with his fingers, as earnest eyes found blue ones. "Somehow, ever since I first saw you, you managed to capture my attention in a way nothing else ever did. You seemed so interesting and alluring and I think my heart recognized you as part of itself." His smile softened, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink "And yes, I hear how cheesy that sounds, but I don't really mind right now" the dragon chuckled "But then I gave you my heart, my most prized possession, but I don't think you realize everything else that came with it. Because you see, my love, you're not just the owner of my heart, you are also the sole owner of my thoughts every day, of my worries, my best laughs and my worst jokes. You have my attention, my appreciation, my trust and my devotion and I'd be lying if I said that the prospect of waking up beside you every day for the rest of my life didn't sound like the most soothing of thoughts." Erik took a deep breath, heart threatening to burst out of his chest.

"I love you, Seth, with everything I am." Erik pulled his hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles "I love every single spec of star dust that was once meshed together to create you." He smiled, not mentioning God or fate. Because it didn't matter how or why they were here, all that mattered was that they were "And I'd be honored if I was ever able to call you, my husband."

A pause as he watched the gears turn inside angel's head, a sure smile on the dragon's face "So, you know... Will you marry me, Seth?"

Being speechless was not something Seth was used to, even if Erik had accomplished putting him in that state more than once. Now, his lover had taken it to a whole new level as the Grigori sat there, looking at his dragon with a shocked expression, gapping, unsure of what to say, “It is not the question what caught me off guard,” his admission came in a whisper, “it is the timing and that you beat me to it,” a slow smile making its way to his lips.

With a nod and a squeeze of his fingers over Erik’s, Seth listened carefully, entranced by every word from his lover’s lips. At that moment, Seth was confident there had never been love as pure as theirs, and in a small part of his soul, he hoped this was the reason why he had been sent to earth. That loving someone and being loved like this was the goal of his whole mission and that perhaps, God had let them have this. It was impossible to tell when the tears started, but he could guess they probably shed the moment Erik mentioned the first time he saw him. The dragon probably had no idea how crucial that moment had been for the angel. How Seth’s whole world changed axis as their hands touched, and perhaps, he was being cheesy too, but it was how it had felt. There were no words that could match Erik’s speech. What could he say? How could he explain that in over a hundred years, Seth had never been happier than now Erik was part of his existence?

With trembling fingers, Seth wiped away the tears from his eyes and nodded eagerly, still unsure if there was anything he could say that could explain how his heart was about to burst out with happiness, “Yes, Erik, I will marry you,” and with no hesitation, he threw himself to his lover’s arms, hiding his face in his chest, holding him tight, engraving this moment in his mind and skin as the happiest of his now mundane life.

Erik chuckled at that, a warm bubbling in his chest at the idea that Seth was planning to propose. Or at least that he thought he'd do it before Erik had the chance to.

As if.

Erik never knew what being moderate was. He was intense and moved through life in bursts of passion, but he wasn't dumb. He followed his impulses, yes, but his mind worked in a tightly knit plan. The moment Seth's piece clicked into place; it was like he had always known. The dragon was worried when he saw the angel started crying, but he could see they were happy tears, so he let himself end before reaching out to wipe his tears away, the same way Seth had done to him the previous night. The thing was, he didn't get the chance to, because as he reached out, Seth all but tackled him back into bed and Erik laid back down right away, arms wrapped around Seth's waist. A bubbly laugh of pure joy escaped his lips at the answer he got, and Erik hugged his boyfriend, no, fiancé tightly. "Well, in that case, that was all, you can now go back to sleep, my love" he chuckled, biting back a smirk. This is why he carried his heart in his chest for, for moments like this. Now Erik understood when people talked about hearts swelling.

The laugh Seth got from his now fiancé was the most heartwarming sound he had ever heard, so pure and infectious that the Grigori started laughing too, “There is no way you expect me to go back to sleep after that, Erik,” his words softly murmured against the warm skin of his dragon’s neck, quickly followed by a soft kiss.

Reluctantly, the angel popped himself on his elbows on top of his lover, looking at him with pure adoration in his blue eyes, “you are unbelievable, Erik. Whenever I think there is no physical way I could love you more than I already do, you go outdo yourself with something like this,” the fake annoyance clear on Seth’s words, “Every second that brought me to this moment has been more than worth it now I know I get to share the rest of my days with you,” it probably sounded sad knowing Seth will not be immortal anymore, but in his heart, the angel knew he would always chose this than an eternity without Erik in his life. “Do you realize now we do not only have a birthday, a Halloween party but a wedding to plan?” his expression no short from pure happiness.

The dragon laughed at that, shrugging slightly "Welp, I had to try. Can't have my fiancé going around saying I am messing up his sleeping schedule, now, can I?" He teased with a proud smile when the word left his lips. It was like he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. He was a smirky person, but this smile, the honest, true one, was Seth's. He reached out to run his fingers through the angel's hair, clicking his tongue "Yeah, damn, I just pushed myself into a corner, didn't I? Don't know how I'll outdo that now, maybe I'll buy us an island or something " he teased with a chuckle. The mention of the last of his days didn't bother Erik now, not when he knew there might be a way for Seth to be with him forever now with Trevor's help. So, he must bit back a knowing smirk and leaned up to kiss his lips lovingly - a very effective way for the dragon to shut himself up. The annoyed joke made him laugh though "Technically we could mash then all together, but I refuse to rush our wedding plans and make it in a month. Nope, I want to cherish this" he ran his fingers down Seth's cheek, fondly "Besides, a Halloween wedding would be weird as fuck. Can you imagine our best men in Halloween costumes? Or us?" He laughed "Specially when I have a tendency of being mostly naked with mine, I'm not giving them a show like that. Nope, that's for our honeymoon alone." Erik finished, a wondrous smile on his lips as he liked them.

“You have been messing with my sleeping schedule for over year in so many ways, Erik,” the words came out with a dash of playfulness and the blush on the Grigori’s face probably added to the meaning of his words. The offer of having an island for them would be more appealing if Seth hadn’t grown to love this little town so much. It had been the only real place where he had felt at home and where he had found purpose and love, “I do not believe we need an island when we can escape to our own little world here between the sheets,” Erik was probably aware of how their next was one of Seth’s favorite places in the world.

The prospect of having a Halloween wedding did not sound too appealing for Seth, “I would rather our wedding to happen in a different day if you are okay with it. I would like it to be a special day to be remembered just as our wedding and no more,” there was some nervousness on his voice at the request. The falling angel wasn’t used to voice his requests but this time he could not help himself. There was a light blush and a smile when his dragon reminded him of his love for being naked, “I would also prefer to keep that glorious nakedness for our honeymoon. I am not feeling keen on sharing my fiancé anymore,” the playfulness was more than clear when he leaned close to press their lips together making his intentions clear.

Erik chucked at that, an arched brow "Look at your being all sexy and coy" he teased, gently poking his ribs to make him blush "I really did corrupt you, huh? You're even making sex jokes! Who are you and what have you done with my sweet, sweet Seth?!" He was laughing now, one arm propped behind his head to lean closer to him.

It was silly, but his eyes were lazily burning that picture to memory, how the sunshine hit his brown hair, how it made Seth's freckles more evident, how bright his eyes were shining. He was marrying the most beautiful man in the planet, that much Erik was certain. "Our wedding should become a holiday in town, my love" He hugged Seth close "A special day just to celebrate us. To celebrate you." The dragon pressed a kiss to his forehead and a grin appeared on his lips when they pulled apart "Your fiancé, huh?" he echoed, pecking the angel's lips as he gently rolled them over so he could place a kiss down his neck "It sounds really nice, doesn't it? This is Seth, my fiancé" He mumbled against his skin "Oh no, I'm waiting for my fiancé. Ah yes, we have reservations for me and my fiancé."

It was impossible for Seth not to blush at his dragon’s words, “Yes, you did, but it was in the best possible way,” this time the Grigori did not feel like hiding the blush. He felt so happy and, in a way, free to feel the way he did and to love Erik openly. In a completely unexpected reaction, Seth rolled over to lay on top of Erik’s body, “I can be sweet and make sex jokes, but only for my fiancé,” the smile on the angel’s face was one of the brighter he ever had.

As marvelous as it sounded, Seth merely shook his head, “No, I would rather it be private. Ours,” the blush was still evident on his cheeks, “I have never been selfish, but there are things that I would like to have only for us,” it was a new feeling. Especially when it came to not feeling guilty for wanting things. It probably meant the Grigori was losing more and more of his grace and turning more human. “Yes! I am only trying the words and see how it feels,” and before he could say more, his lover was rolling them over, and the angel found himself under his dragon’s body, “It does. It is the best title I have ever had, so far,” his eyes falling closed at those kisses as his hands explored Erik’s back.

Erik didn't know what caught him more off guard, if it was Seth suddenly straddling him like that, if it was him taking about making sex jokes or if it was him calling Erik his fiancé. Oh, he loved that word.

With a smile on his face, Erik slid his hands over the angel's thighs "Fair enough. You get to be selfish too. You get to be anything you'd like, my love. Even mine" he grinned.

Once he was on top of Seth, he couldn't help himself, one arm propping him in place while the other caressed his leg, lips brushing against the delicate skin of his neck. "Just you wait for when it changes" he slid his lips towards his ear, whispering "When I get to call you my husband"

"But I am already your, ain't I?" There was a playful glean in his blue eyes, "being yours is everything I ever wanted, Erik. I think my life started for real when I met you," the Grigori confessed.

How could this be wrong? How could loving like this was the reason of his fall? It made no sense in his head. This was the happiest the angel ever felt, and God decided he didn't deserve it. The smile was back on his face when Erik rolled them over and laid on top of him, causing the eternal blush on his face to come back, "Husband sounds heavenly," his answer came out like a soft moan, "I love you," the angel sighed before cupping Erik's face to press their lips together in a deep kiss.

[hollywoodxwhore]

tatty daddy

Tattoo artist Colson x Reader

S/o to @triplexdoublex for my very first request. Hope you like it!

Warnings/Tags: Smut (18+), mention of tattoo needles, swearing, fingering, squirting

Words: 3313

Colson is not famous in this. He's a local tattoo artist. Hope y'all enjoy!

You had a mild tattoo addiction.

Yes, they were beautiful when they were complete, permanently scarred into the skin in any design someone could possibly want.

But you liked them for so much more than that.

You couldn’t deny that you liked the pain. Maybe that was something you should’ve taken up with your therapist, but usually you didn’t let yourself think on that too much. It was something about the controlled pain, the way it turned into beauty, a sharp sting that was almost pleasurable in its own right.

You’d been in the market for new ink for too long, and finally, a coworker pulled through, helping you to score an appointment with her cousin, one of the more renowned artists in the area. His work was stunning and exactly what you wanted. She’d shared his pricing, the location of his shop, and his name — Colson.

What she’d forgotten to share, however, was that this man was fucking gorgeous.

Your legs quivered slightly as the artist introduced himself, trying to be respectful when all you wanted to do was ogle him. Tall — at least 6’4”, fluffy, bleached hair, three nose rings — three! — piercings lining his ears, tons of tattoos, and an angelic face to tie it all together. You reminded yourself to yell at your coworker later for not having warned you.

“Here are a couple of designs I drew up,” he said, picking up some papers and turning them towards you. God, his voice was sexy, too. You looked over the designs, trying to stay focused.

“They’re both beautiful,” you said, glancing up to meet his eyes.

“We should see which one fits your body best,” Colson suggested. You nodded, flustered, and followed him into his studio.

The walls were covered with art — movie posters and tattoo images and pictures of who you assumed was Colson’s cat. His station was neatly organized, a tray already ready for you.

“You wanted it pretty low on your stomach, right?” he asked. His eye contact was making you weak. God, it had been way too long since you’d gotten laid.

“Yes,” you said, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt.

“Have a seat.” He gestured to the black chair beside him. You climbed on and awaited further instructions. “Go ahead and show me the spot.”

You swallowed and slid your leggings and panties down just enough to reveal the spot, right above your pussy. You were running out of places to put hideable tattoos, and you liked this intimate placement.

Colson leaned down, studying the area, and you held your breath. He held up the stencils, studying them, and then gestured for you to pull your pants back up.

“I think this is the one,” he said, holding up the dagger pierced through a rose. “Color? Black and gray?”

“What do you think?” I asked.

Colson shrugged. “I think mostly black and gray would be sick, but a few pops of color.”

“Sounds perfect.” You smiled and he did too, all charm. Shit, how were you going to get through this?

“I’m going to print out the stencil,” he said. “Go ahead and undress however you’re comfortable. You might want to remove your pants and underwear. We can cover you while I work.” He met your eyes and you nodded, mustering up a smile.

“Okay, thanks,” you said. Colson nodded and excused himself from the studio.

Drawing in a deep breath, you removed your leggings and panties, folding them neatly and setting them on a chair in the corner. Colson had left behind a paper blanket to place over your lap, and you got back onto the table, covering yourself. Your hands were shaking, and not because you were nervous about the tattoo.

When Colson returned, he immediately slid his big hands into a pair of black latex gloves that looked unreasonably good on his hands. He sat down and touched the paper blanket, icy eyes meeting yours. “Can I move this?” he asked, and you appreciated him being so respectful.

“Yeah.” You nodded and bit your lip as he carefully slid the paper down towards your thighs, leaving your pussy barely covered, but it still was. You bit your lip, barely breathing as his gloved hands carefully placed the stencil onto your skin. You closed your eyes briefly as he applied pressure, ensuring the stencil remained on your skin as he removed the paper. You glanced down and couldn’t help but grin. It was going to look sick.

“We’re just gonna let that dry for a few,” Colson said, leaning back in his chair slightly. “So, you work with my cousin.”

“I do.” You nodded. “I was excited when she told me about your work.”

Colson’s eyes sparkled and he perked up slightly. “Yeah? Well, thank you for trusting me,” he said humbly.

“You’re talented,” you said with a shrug. “Of course I do.”

Something passed in the air between you but you couldn’t quite figure out what that was. Colson seemed to snap out of it after a moment, but you couldn’t help but notice his cheeks were slightly pink.

“Alright. You ready?” he asked, meeting your eye as he picked up the gun.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said.

Colson met your eyes and smiled. “Here we go.” He leaned over your body and got to work.

You hissed and closed your eyes at the first drag of the needle. The sweet, hot pain shocked your system slightly but you felt warm and tingly as you adjusted to it.

“You okay?” Colson asked.

You nodded. “Is it weird I kinda like the pain?” you asked.

Colson looked at you then, and for a moment, you were worried he was going to tell you that you were weird and then it would be awkward. Instead, a small grin graced his gorgeous features. “Nah. I do, too,” he confessed, then went back to the tattoo.

You relaxed as time went on and you and Colson conversed more and more. He was a great conversationalist and he had a talent for making you feel comfortable.

“Alright, outline is done,” Colson said, wiping your tattoo. “Need a break before color?”

You shook your head no. “Not unless you do.”

Colson shook his head. “Nah, I prefer to just get it done.”

You watched him dip into a dark red and get to work again. “Is this the most intimate spot you’ve tattooed?” you asked.

Colson grinned. “Nah,” he said. “I had to tattoo a girl, like, way upper thigh. No way to cover anything.”

“So, just pussy in your face?” you asked, giggling.

Colson laughed. “Yep.”

“I’m sure you didn’t mind.”

Colson’s cheeks flushed but he was smiling. “I’m a professional,” he said, narrowing his eyes to focus on the tattoo. “I was respectful.”

“I’m sure you were,” you said.

Colson wiped the tattoo, not meeting your eyes when he asked, “You got a man? Or a girl?” he added.

You bit your lip. “No…I’m honestly not really the dating type,” you admitted. “You?”

Colson chuckled. “You like tattoo pain and you’re not the dating type,” he said. “You must be the female me.”

You giggled, flushing with pleasure. “Monogamy isn’t my favorite, to be honest,” you admitted. “I like sex too much to limit it to one person.” You had no idea why you were being so bold, but Colson was responding positively to it.

“Word,” he said. “I’m the same way. Like, I’ve never cheated or anything but I don’t stay in a relationship for too long.” He paused. “It’s nice to meet someone who gets it.”

You met eyes briefly and you smiled at him. “Yeah. It is,” you said quietly. “You ever fucked a client?”

Colson cleared his throat. You could tell he was slightly flustered but he remained calm and collected as he continued inking your skin. “Of course,” he said. “A lot of gorgeous girls come in here.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours. “I’m tattooing one right now.”

You’d been holding it together fairly well until now. But his voice, his eye contact, and the way those black-gloved hands pressed just above where you wanted them — it was all really pushing you. You felt moisture pool between your legs.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

“Of course,” Colson murmured, smirking slightly before going back to work.

“Can I be honest?” you asked.

“Please.”

“This conversation and this tattoo are really turning me on.”

Colson smirked. “Good thing I’m almost done then,” he said. “Just some white highlights and you’re set. We’ll put some Tagaderm over it and call it good.”

You stayed quiet during the white highlights. As Colson set the gun down and leaned back in his chair, you noticed his black jeans trying to tent.

You quirked a brow. “Did you just tattoo this on me with a boner? You’re good,” you said.

Colson laughed and glanced down at his jeans. “I told you, I’m a professional.” His eyes were on yours again. He smirked at the way your breath hitched.

His words and movements were so casual and relaxed even though a suggestion hung in the air; it was making your head spin. He wiped your tattoo once more, then stuck the Tagaderm over the tattoo. “Take this off in two days in the shower,” he directed. “It’s easier to heal. You won’t have to put your life on hold for a week.”

“Does that mean I can have sex?” you asked.

Colson smirked and cleaned up his station. “It does.”

“Does that mean I can have sex with my gorgeous tattoo artist?”

Colson’s eyes rose to yours and he wetted his lips before smiling. “Naughty girl,” he said lowly, his words shooting right between your legs. He peeled off the gloves, then offered his hand and you took it, allowing him to help you off the chair.

He pulled you in and you dropped the paper blanket to the floor. One of his hands curled around your hip and the other cupped your cheek. “But yes you can,” he said, and then, his lips were on yours.

You whimpered softly into the kiss. He was an amazing kisser, but that was really no surprise. You placed your hands on his cheeks, pushing up on your toes to get closer.

As you pulled back for Colson to remove his shirt, his eyes caught sight of something behind you and darkened. “Fuck, you are a bad girl.” He spun you around so your back was to his chest. “Getting my chair all wet.” You gasped as he bent to kiss your neck at the same moment you saw the wet spot on his chair.

“I-I can’t help it,” you stammered. Your breath shook as he slid a hand between your legs and traced his fingers through your folds. He groaned, finding you soaked for him.

“Mm, so wet for me, good girl,” he purred. “You want this dick?”

You moaned as his finger circled your clit. You did want his dick, but more than that, you wanted something else. You turned in his arms and looked up at him demurely. “If I told you to put a pair of gloves on and finger me, would you?”

Colson’s lashes fluttered and he groaned softly. “Fuck. Of course,” he said, leaning in to kiss you. You watched as he plucked two gloves from the box and slid his hands into them, stretching out his fingers. Your legs quaked at the sight of him and you bit your lip hard, trying to maintain your composure.

Colson’s eyes were locked on yours as he moved closer to you, gripping your hips to shove you against the wall, thumbs pressing into your hip bones. Your breathing hitched as he leaned in to kiss you again, his gloved fingers finding the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He nudged your legs further apart and then traced a fingertip through your dripping folds, collecting your excitement before lightly circling it around your clit.

“O-oh god, Colson,” you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as his lips moved to your neck. You gasped sharply when you felt two thick fingers slip inside of you. The texture of his gloves reminded you of your little vibrator, but better with the way his fingers moved effortlessly inside of you.

“How does that feel?” he murmured into your neck, nipping lightly at your sensitive skin.

“A-ah fuck, so good,” you stammered, knees shaking as he began to pump his fingers slowly. He was teasing you and it had you borderline convulsing, desperate for more. You were so wet you could feel it on your thighs, and maybe you should’ve been embarrassed but at the moment, you couldn’t have cared less.

Colson chuckled lowly. “Your legs are about to give out, baby girl,” he breathed, and all you could do was whimper. Suddenly, he removed his fingers and you could’ve cried at the loss of contact, but then his hands were lifting you onto the countertop. You arched your back immediately as he angled his fingers back inside of you, this time driving his thrusts right at your g-spot.

You took a moment to admire the man before you. His bicep bulged as he worked you towards your high, his lips parted and his blue eyes dark. You’d never seen anyone so sexy before and you found yourself questioning all of your previous encounters. None of them had been as intense as this was. Your eyes raked over his body, down to the obvious bulge beneath his black jeans, and you reached forward to curl your fingers around it. Colson let out a low groan and he bit his lip as he sped up his motions.

“Jesus Christ,” he rasped, looking between your legs at his glistening gloves. “You’re so fucking wet. You getting close for me?”

All you could do was nod as your chest heaved, heat building rapidly in your lower stomach. His fingers were fucking you rapidly now, stimulating your g-spot so intensely that your vision began to ebb. Sounds were muffled and sweat prickled on your skin as a sharpness built in your abdomen. It was nothing you’d ever felt before and you had half a mind to be a little concerned, but you were too deeply immersed in the pleasure to really care.

As Colson’s teeth dug into your collarbone, he pressed the thumb of his other hand to your clit and rubbed sharp circles, and that was all it took. You lost it, ears ringing as pleasure exploded between your legs. You felt almost separate from your own body as you moaned and whined and writhed, spraying his hand and your thighs.

You trembled as you came down, clenching around his thick fingers as you panted, whimpering a weak, “Fuck.” Colson smirked, gently pulling his hand from you, and you slumped, eyes closing. Your eyes popped open at the sound of Colson peeling his gloves off, and his eyes met yours.

“Well?” he asked. “Was that what you needed?”

“Fuck,” you said, swallowing as you regained your composure. “That was…did I…?”

“Squirt?” Colson asked. “Yeah. Has that ever happened before?”

You were momentarily distracted from answering as you watched him adjust himself over his jeans. “N-no,” you stammered, cheeks flushing.

Colson smirked at you and came closer, kissing you softly. “It was hot,” he murmured. Your hands cupped his face and pulled him back in for a hard kiss, making him groan.

Your hands quickly dropped to the button of his tight jeans just as his slid up beneath your tank top, finding you braless, and he groaned softly as he pinched lightly at your nipples. You arched your back and his perfect teeth tugged at your bottom lip as he broke the kiss. “You’re fucking bad,” he rasped. “No bra.”

You mewled softly as his thumbs circled your nipples, and then you were shoving his jeans and boxer briefs down his legs. “Colson, please,” you begged.

“Please what?” Colson asked, pulling a hand back to wrap it around his own cock and stroke it slowly. You were so distracted by that sexy hand wrapping around his sizable dick that you were surprised when his free hand cupped your chin and lifted your face to his. “Please what, Y/N?”

“P-please fuck me, Colson,” you begged.

“Mm, just because you asked me so nicely,” he said, gripping your hips to pull you to the very edge of the counter. He reached behind you, grabbing his wallet, and withdrew a condom. He ripped the package with his teeth and you watched his every move as he rolled it down. Then, his cock was pressed to you and it was hard to breathe. “Ready?” he asked, meeting your eyes.

“Ready,” you said eagerly, hips shifting slightly. Colson took his lip between his teeth as he rolled his hips forward slowly, burying his dick inside of you. Even with your recent orgasm, it was a tight fit and you flinched slightly, not used to someone as big as Colson.

“You okay, beautiful?” he asked, pressing his forehead to yours as he paused inside of you.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Y-yeah, you’re just big,” you admitted.

Colson grinned, cheeks flushed with pleasure and he tightened his grip on your ass. You pulled at his hips, ready for him to start moving, and he did. A moan was ripped from your throat as your head fell back. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him deeper, digging your nails into his back.

“F-fu-uck,” you managed, closing your eyes. “Colson–”

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, curling his huge hands around your thighs, bracing them on his hips as he rolled his hips, building up speed. He watched as your tits bounced in your tank top and he paused long enough to pull your shirt over your head. Immediately, his mouth was at your chest, warm tongue lapping against your nipples.

You couldn’t stop moaning; he was that good. He picked up his pace then, fucking you hard and fast, and you were both breathing hard as his hips stuttered, jaw dropping. “O-oh sh-it, Y/N,” he gasped. “Fuck, I’m so cl-close.”

“Fuck, me too,” you whined, watching as his hand descended your body to press between your bodies, giving your clit the friction it desperately needed. Your moans hiked up in pitch until your hips jerked hard against him as you came again. As you started to come down, Colson’s breaths came in short puffs and he closed his eyes, brow furrowing as he slammed his hips to yours, squeezing your thighs hard as he let go.

His head dropped to your chest as you caught your breath together, your hand wound loosely in his hair. He pulled his hips back and disposed of the condom. You hopped down from the counter, nearly collapsing on your shaky legs, and Colson laughed as he tossed you your panties and leggings.

“Shut up,” you said with a grin. “It’s your fault I can’t stand.”

“Not gonna lie,” Colson said, buttoning and zipping his jeans, “that was the best sex I’ve had in a while.” He met your eyes. “Would you be chill with giving me your number?”

“As long as you promise this will happen again,” you said with a grin as you pulled your tank over your head.

Colson grinned and leaned in to kiss you. “Bet,” he said.

You exchanged numbers then, wondering if maybe monogamy could be for you after all. Shit, you didn’t see a reason to keep fucking other people when Colson was that good. His eye contact communicated similar feelings and you left the shop, sore between your legs from more than just the tattoo.

Yeah, you definitely had a tattoo addiction, and you knew you’d just found your new dealer.

[maaaaaatryoshka0325]

Cottontail - Bang Chan Hybrid Smut

Warnings: hybrid smut, rabbit hybrid reader, alpha wolf hybrid Chan

I haven’t updated in awhile so I’m giving y’all something for now 😅

Your hips were up in the air, fuzzy little tail perked up in excitement. Your fluffy, floppy ears were pressed to the ground besides your hands, the soft fur tickling your cheeks. You felt his hands gently rubbing the soft skin of your ass, his fingers lightly grazing the lacy material of your thongs.

“Such beautiful skin, Y/N.” Chan said in a low rumble, his elegant fingers dancing along your smooth skin.

His long, silver-gray wolf tail was slowly wagging in excitement, his dark eyes eating you up like prey. Your friend, Felix, an orange tabby hybrid, had introduced you to Chan a few weeks ago at a party. His scent and aura attracted you to him, his alpha male demeanor drawing you in.

Now you were face down, ass in the air on a plush rug in his massive house. The chill in the room biting at your bare skin as you laid before him in just your bra and thongs.

You had never heard of a rabbit hybrid coupling with a wolf hybrid, and you had your doubts at first. But you couldn’t resist him, you couldn’t help but feel your heat get hot under his gaze, feeling like he was going to eat you up like the big bad wolf. Feeling like prey beneath him brought out a thrill in you, one you’ve never felt before.

You closed your eyes and let out a small moan as his fingers gently glided over your covered heat, gently rubbing your clit through the lace. The smallest touch from him sent sparks throughout your body, and he was loving the way your body was reacting. Your scent was driving him wild, but he knew he would have to be cautious. He himself had never heard of such a coupling either, and hurting you in a way that wasn’t for pleasure was the last thing he wanted to do.

“It’s taking everything in me not to be balls deep in you, little one.” He whispered, leaning forward as he spoke so that his long canines could graze the side of one of your fluffy ears. “I could ravage you in just one bite.”

You let out a low moan as he sunk his teeth into where your fuzzy ear folded, the sting making your core throb. Both of his hands came up and rubbed your ass cheeks, the warmth from his hands spreading throughout your lower half. His fingers lightly grazed your dripping heat, then he pushed your panties to the side.

“I’m gonna prep you enough so you can take me, okay?” He said gently, pressing a gentle kiss to your right ass cheek.

You nodded, your pussy throbbing excitedly, waiting for his touch. A rough slap to your ass made you whimper, a gasp leaving your lips as he gripped your hair from the roots and pulled your head bad.

“When I ask you a question, I expect a verbal response.” He growled into your soft ear. “Am I clear?”

“Y-Yes.” You moaned out as his right hand squeezed your ass, the other still threaded into your hair.

“Good, my sweet little bunny.” He purred as he let go of your hair.

You felt his elegant fingers run over your ass then down between your legs, where they finally made contact with your bare clit. You let out a soft moan as he circled your clit with his fingers, his soft breathing felt warm as he dipped his head down and pressed a soft kiss to the swell of your ass. You let out a soft moan left your lips as he gently bit into the soft flesh, his fangs breaking the skin as he sucked a dark mark onto your right cheek, his pointer fingers finally dipping into your begging entrance.

“So wet, little one.” He rumbled softly as he lifted his head and pressed kisses to your arched back as he began to pump his finger in and out of you.

Your cheeks turned a light shade of pink, but your mind was too full of pleasure for you to be embarrassed right now.. His finger curled in the best way possible, hitting the perfect spots inside you. Your eyes were closed in bliss as he continued to pump and curl his finger, pulling it out occasionally and using his soaked finger to circle your clit.

You yelped as he pushed your thighs up, making your knees practically touch your elbows. Your ass was now high and proud in the air, his thumbs moving to open your pussy completely. You were about to question what he was doing, but the words couldn’t even form in your mind, let alone your mouth, when you felt something long and wet slip into your entrance. A moan escaped your lips as his long hybrid tongue lapped at your soaked, velvety walls. His tongue twirled inside of you, his eyes watching as your hands gripped the plush carpet.

Your mind went completely blank as you felt your thighs become wet as your arousal dripped down from around his tongue. If it hadn’t felt so good, you would have surely been embarrassed at your position. You never thought being eaten out from behind would feel this good, and definitely never thought of finding yourself in this position.

His tongue was as deep as it could go, his hands holding onto your thighs as slurping sounds filled your fluffy ears. You squealed when you felt one of his hands come up and grab a hold of your fuzzy cotton tail, pulling on it gently, yet firmly. The sparks that shot through your body had your thighs shaking as you felt the sudden urge to cum, and you desperately tried to hang onto the littlest bit of consciousness you had left.

All it took was his fingers rubbing your clit in fast circles and you came with a loud whimper. Your thighs shook and your breathing was heavy as he lapped up your juices, your hands still clutching the plush rug. He gently pressed kisses from your soaked heat up to your soft ass before standing up. You turned your head and saw him unbuckling his belt, his pretty hands easily popping it out of its place.

Your eyes widened when you saw his length spring free, and you had to stop yourself from gasping. His length was long and thick, a massive vein running through it and up to the tip. You subconsciously moved forward, your one hand reaching out and wrapping around the tip. You leaned forward and licked around the tip, making him chuckle.

“Usually I don’t allow anyone to touch me without permission, but you’re just so cute.” He purred.

You smiled around his thick length as you took it further into your mouth, the base too big to completely swallow it. His fingers gently rubbed over your soft ears, making them twitch as the sound of you slurping on his length filled the both of your ears.

“You like my dick, darling?” He asked.

You hummed happily around it as you pulled back and licked around the tip, your tongue focusing on the slit for a moment. You felt him grab your ears, and before you could question it, he shoved himself down your throat. You half choked as he kept his hold on your ears and thrusted into your mouth, his dick pushing down your pipes.

Slurping and slight choking sounds bounced on the walls as the vein in Chan’s neck began to pop out, one of his sharp canines piercing his plump lower lip. You looked up at him, a soft grown leaving his lips when you made eye contact.

“You’re so cute.” He groaned.

His thrusts got harder, and so did his grip on your ears. You clutched his hips tightly, expecting for him to finish. But instead, he ripped himself from your mouth and you nearly fell over, but his strong arms grabbed you.

He lifted your chin up with his one hand and pressed his thumb into your saliva covered lips, gently spreading it around before sticking his thumb into your mouth. You parted your lips and allowed his thumb in, giving it a soft duck as he chuckled.

“Good girl.” He rumbled.

He turned you around and bent you over again, your cottontail high and proud in the air. His right hand grabbed a handful of your ass, his fingers denting the skin. You felt him rub his tip along your soaked heat, your eyes closing in bliss. He swirled the tip around your clit, making you whine.

“Please.” You whimpered.

“Hm?” He asked.

“Please give it to me Chan, I need it. I need your knot.” You whimpered, knowing full well male wolves went crazy when it came down to their knot.

You heard his breath hitch at your words, and you almost smiled. But the feeling of his thick tip beginning to push into you made your jaw slack as it stretched you out. You whimpered as the tip was in, knowing it wasn’t the thickest part. His hand came down and rubbed comforting circles into your back, his voice gentle.

“You’re doing so well my sweet little cottontail, just hang in there.” He rumbled softly.

You closed your eyes as he began to slide deeper into you, your nails digging deep into the carpet. He leaned over you and began to leave comforting licks on your neck, a soft whimper leaving his lips as he pushed further into you.

“So tight.” He rasped.

You let out a loud whine as he pushed the rest of himself into you, your legs shaking as his tip was pressed against your cervix. You could feel the beginning of his knot sitting outside of your entrance, your heat getting wetter as you thought about taking it in you. He licked your neck for a few more moments before lifting himself up. He gently caressed your ass cheek before pulling out a little and thrusting back in.

Your toes curled as he began to thrust into you, your gspot and cervix on full display for the alpha’s thick length. His hand reached up and pulled your ears back like a pony tail, making your back arch as he began to snap his hips into yours.

Loud moans left your lips as you threw your hips back into his, the pain of his length pummeling your cervix slowly started to be a full pain. His grip on your ears tightened as he pulled your head back, his tongue brushing the shell of your ear as he pounded into you.

You could feel his knot slamming against your entrance, your loud moans music to his ears.

“Your moans are so cute, I could listen to them everyday.” He rasped in your ear.

You couldn’t even think of a response as his hand went down your back and gripped your tail. You whined loudly as you tightened around him.

“Oh?” He asked with amusement, thrusting harshly into you. “Do you like your tail being grabbed?”

You couldn’t form a coherent sentence with the way he was pounding into you, his grip on your tail became harder as he used it to bounce you back off of his hips. You were dripping all over around his dick, your moans getting louder and more high pitched. His hips started to smack off yours harder as you came around him, a high pitched cry leaving your throat.

He slowed down a bit and rolled his hips into yours through your high, before turning you over. He lifted your legs over his shoulders and slammed into you, his hips slapping off of yours. Your eyes went between your body’s, and you saw the bulge in your lower abdomen every time he thrusted into you. You could feel his heavy knot smacking off of your entrance, trying to find its way in. But Chan wasn’t ready for the two of you to be finished yet.

He held the back of your thighs as he pounded into you, his thrusts fast and hard. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, and you got lost in the difference between his harsh thrusts and his soft pillowy lips. You moaned into his mouth as he pulled all the way out to the tip and harshly thrusted back in, soft groans and grunts leaving his lips.

His fingers skillfully dropped down to your clit and you whined loudly as your thighs tightened around him, hitting another high. He didn’t let up this time, his thrusts becoming harsher and more faster. His hand came up to your clit and stayed where his dick was appearing in your abdomen, a loud groan leaving his lips.

“That’s so hot.” He painted.

You yelped as he flipped you back over, lifting your hips up and slamming back into you. You gasped when he wrapped his arms behind the back of your knees and lifted you up, thrusting up into you and making you bounce harshly on him with his arms. His lips grazed your neck, then he sunk his teeth into your off flesh as he continued to bounce you harshly on his length. The burning of the bite made you realize he was marking you as his, he was claiming you.

You tightened around him at the realization and he whimpered into your neck, licking at the spot that had started to bleed. He went over on his side, keeping you just the way he was as his thrusts went crazy. Your jaw was slack as the knot began to push into you further with every thrust, until Chan let out a loud whine as it pushed into you. You cried out at the feeling of it stretching your further, your toes curling as you hit what felt like your tenth high of the night.

Chan was lightly still thrusting into you, licking your neck and holding onto your thighs tightly. When his thrusts stopped, he still kept his arms under the back of your knees, clinging to you tightly. You could feel his knot pulsing inside of you, your eyes closing in pleasure as it was pushing against your gspot with every pulsation.

Your thighs were shaking and he nuzzled your neck softly, making you smile.

“You were meant for me, my little cottontail.” He purred.

You went to move when you felt the knot tug and he whined, pulling you closer into him.

“We’re gonna be stuck like this for a bit, so don’t go trying to run off.” He chuckled hoarsely, a small groan leaving his lips as he felt his knot swell harder.

You looked down and gasped, your stomach was swollen, and you realized it was from Chan’s knot cumming so much. He licked the shell of your ear and nuzzled his face into your hair, his fingertips gently rubbing the back of your thighs.

“You have me hooked, cottontail.” He purred in amusement.

“You also have me hooked, alpha.” You said back.

Chan pulled his hips back as his knot deflated, and you let out a small moan as cum poured out of you, your stomach beginning to deflate as well. Chan lifted you into his arms, his glowing eyes full of desire.

“I’m not done with you yet, my love.”

[kitsunekissesxo]

“I’ll Pitch in and Help My Cute Apprentice”

Obey Me Solomon Smut, 3.7k words

Warnings: 18+ under the cut, afab she/herMC, pure smut, a little bit of plot actually, dom!Solomon, fingering, spitting, degradation, blowjob, penetration, a whole lot of nsfw, but a fluffy ending, Solomons a cocky bastard

Summary: You’re Solomon’s apprentice, attempting to master the arts of wizardry. Solomon challenges you to perform a spell he recently showed you, yet you have some troubles performing it successfully. Solomon shows you just how to perform it, getting a little too close-which results in frustration. Lucky for you, he decides to lend a helping hand. 

“Ugh...are you kidding me right now?” You groaned out, putting your head in your hands. It was the umpteenth time you had performed this levitation spell, yet the book sitting on the desk in front of you was not levitating no matter how much concentration you put in. You opened your mouth to recite the spell yet again but was startled by the door to your room opening.

Whipping your head around, your eyes met Solomon’s gray-yellow gaze, sparkling with amusement as he took in your frustrated state. He strode over to where you were sitting, glancing at the book before letting out a chuckle. 

“I see the book hasn't moved since I left. Having some troubles?” He smugly asked, folding his arms and leaning against the wall beside you. 

“I can see the cocky grin forming Sol, and I gotta say, it is not helping,” you mumbled, imploring your cheeks to not flush in embarrassment.  You weren’t sure what you were doing wrong. You already knew you harbored great magic skills, and you were fairly sure you memorized the incantation correctly. So why wasn’t the damn book moving? You wanted to prove to Solomon that you could do this-that you weren’t some helpless apprentice that he had to watch out for. And there he was, standing beside you, staring at your failure of levitation.

“Here,” he started, grabbing a seat and scooting next to you,  “let me help. Show me exactly what you’ve been doing and we’ll tweak it so you’re succeeding, okay?” He offered, a small smile resting on his lips. 

You nodded in response, watching as he folded his arms once more, sitting back to watch you carefully. Taking a deep breath, you recited the spell with as much concentration and force as you could muster. The book sat there like it was mocking you, and you wanted nothing more than to curse out that stupid book. 

“I see.” He commented, his hand resting against his chin thoughtfully. “The speaking portion of the spell was done wonderfully, MC. However, with levitation spells, you have to use your hand to indicate the way you’d like your object to move, along with picturing it in your mind. Shall I demonstrate for you?” He proposed, looking at you for confirmation. 

“Please do,” you responded, feeling silly for not knowing such an important part of the spell.

You watched as he stood up, smoothing his shirt down. He had on a dark gray button up, the top button undone, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, with tight black jeans adorned with a black leather belt. His cream jacket was hanging on the back of his chair. As you watched him, you couldn’t help but admire how attractive he was. A sharp jawline, prominent nose, intense eyes, silvery white hair....it was almost unfair that such an attractive man was your mentor. 

His left hand lifted elegantly, his slender and nimble fingers motioning upwards, the book following his commands. He turned to look at you, smiling, saying, “Just like that.”

You swallowed roughly. Was he being suggestive on purpose? You shook yourself of the thought, not allowing your mind to go there right now...that would be for later tonight. “Th-thanks for showing me, Sol. I think I got it now” you responded, expecting him to have you try it again.

“Actually, I think I should instruct you on how to move your hands. It’ll help you. Come here.” He proclaimed, motioning for you to stand next to him. 

“O-okay,” you stammered, lurching forward out of nervousness, unknowing of what he was up to. 

You swore you felt your heart stop as he stepped behind you and took ahold of your waist, positioning you how he wanted. The feeling of his long, slender fingers on your waist made your mind wander yet again, wondering how amazing they would feel digging into your hips as he- no, no, stop that. We’re practicing spells, that’s all, you thought to yourself, taking a deep breath.

Suddenly Solomons chest was pressed flush against your upper back, his nose and mouth dangerously close to your ear. You let out a gasp at the movement, not expecting him to come so close to you. 

“S-Sol, you’re kinda close...” you trailed off as he hummed nonchalantly.

“I’m helping you, apprentice. You need your hand technique down if you want to succeed in levitation spells.” He murmured. “This is your dominant hand, correct?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, feeling the hair on the back of your neck stand as his warm breath fawned against your ear. 

His hand snaked up your arm, warm fingers taking ahold of your hand, positioning them perfectly. Your brain hardly registered that his other hand was still resting on your waist, his close proximity fogging your mind. His hands were calloused from years and years of experience as a sorcerer. 

“You're so obedient, my dear,” he murmured against the side of your neck, his lips ghosting against the sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you instinctively pressed yourself against him even more. “Turn around,” he mumbled, letting go of your hand and giving you space for you to spin around. As you looked up at him, your hands came up to rest on his chest. His one hand kept a strong hold on your hip, his other coming up to cup your cheek.

“I-is this really okay?” You asked him quietly, unsure if he really wanted to be doing this with you right now.

“Why?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Are you not enjoying yourself?”

You could feel the tension in the few inches between your faces, and you couldn’t deny the heat pooling in your stomach. You shook your head, closing your eyes for a few moments. Opening your eyes after taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you admitted, “I’ve been wanting this for awhile...”

The way his eyes glinted made you suddenly feel a little uneasy- his expression almost darkened, his captivating eyes somewhat narrowing. “Is that so, MC? For how long?” He inquired, his face slowly leaning closer to yours. You breathed in, notes of lavender and coriander flooding your senses. Even his scent was alluring. 

“Ever since you began teaching me,” you admitted once more, feeling your cheeks heat up, your gaze finally shifting away from him.

“Poor thing.” He paused to lick his lips, leaning in close enough to your ear to feel his warm breath fanning on the outer shell. “That pathetic excuse of a dildo just doesn’t do the trick like my cock would, does it?” He murmured in a mocking tone.

You took a sharp inhale of breath through your nose, turning your head and gaze away from him. How did he know you’d been desperately searching for something to fuck yourself with imagining it was him? Did he catch you? Did he hear you? Did he find your toys? So many thoughts raced through your flustered mind.

Suddenly, his slender fingers grabbed your chin, sharply turning your head to face him. A stern look adorned his handsome features, his gray-yellow gaze burning into yours. “I asked you a question, my dear. I would suggest that you answer me.” He demanded, feigning an offended and annoyed attitude. You subconsciously squeezed your thighs together, feeling your cheeks redden even further as you whispered, “Nothing could possibly compare to you....”

He leaned in so close that his lips barely ghosted against yours, murmuring “That’s what I thought,” before capturing your lips in a kiss.

Kissing Solomon was nothing like you imagined- in your fantasies you both were always so desperate, pawing at each other, messily kissing. But this....this was far better than anything you could’ve thought up. He was kissing you roughly but slowly, his hand coming up to the back of your head and pushing you further into him. You would be lying to yourself if you said you couldn't have stayed there and kissed him for hours.

You stifled a moan as his tongue swiped your bottom lip, acting like he was asking you for entrance. However, he quickly and forcefully shoved his tongue through your lips. You couldn't even suppress the moan that escaped you at his roughness and you began massaging his tongue with your own. Your hands came up to the nape of his neck, gently pulling on his silvery hair. 

You pulled away to gasp for air, a trail of saliva connecting your lips together. Solomon was breathing heavily as well, his eyes hazy as he continued to watch your every move. 

“Should I take you here on the desk? Or would you prefer I pin you down on your bed?” He asked huskily, gripping your hips tightly, forehead resting against yours. 

Your mind was foggy with lust, wanting him here and now. Not being able to hold back, you pleaded, “Here, fuck me here, please.” 

With a grin, he picked you up, your legs coming up around his waist, and sat you down on the desk, his crotch pressing against your lower region. You could feel his hard on through both of your pants and let out a slight moan as you pressed into him further, fingers gripping the hair on the back of his head. His face was flushed, hair tousled, and lips somewhat bruised- he looked delectable.

“You have no idea how much you’ve teased me,” Solomon said lowly, clenching his jaw as he went about removing your shirt, enunciating each word with each button he undid. “How many times I’ve endured you leaning over to see what I'm doing, practically shoving your chest in my face,” He spat, making his point by reaching around to unclasp your bra, watching as the fabric slipped off of your breasts. You could feel how red your face was, and instinctively went to cover up your chest with your arms. However, Solomon swiftly grabbed ahold of both of your wrists, holding them away from your chest. “Don’t hide from me. You’ve teased me enough for a lifetime,” he breathed out, staring at you intensely. You nodded, giving into him, and he let go of your wrists. “Stand up for a second, doll,” he murmured, and began to remove your pants, placing a kiss below your navel, leaving you in just a pair of soaked panties. 

He sucked air in through his nose as he palmed at your chest, thumb and middle finger rubbing and tweaking your pert nipples. You moaned softly at his ministrations, encouraging him to keep going while threading your fingers through his hair above his nape. He ducked his head down to take a nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking as his other hand trailed down your stomach to right above your panties, fingering at the fabric teasingly, pulling it back and snapping it against your hip. You let out a louder moan at that, and his mouth popped off your swollen nipple, giving you a look you couldn’t quite read. 

“Please touch me,” you whimpered out desperately as he flattened his palm, cupping your sex through your panties. He let out a breath through his nose. 

“Look at you. Begging without me telling you to,” he whispered into your neck, biting down as his hand continued rubbing against your sex and the other still playing with your nipple. You moaned out for him, gripping onto his shoulders as his fingers slipped the fabric of your panties aside and began to thumb at your clit in slow circles, continuing to leave marks on your neck.

You opened your legs wider to provide him better access to your dripping cunt, gasping as he trailed his forefinger through your glistening folds. “You are such a whore for me, you know that? Spreading your legs for your mentor, letting him touch you as he pleases. And you fucking love it,” he spat, slipping a finger into your hole. “Show me how desperate you are. Tell me how badly you want me,” he persisted, pumping his finger in and out of you at a quickening pace, his other hand now grabbing your inner thigh.

“Please, Solomon, I need you so badly, I-I think of you every time I touch myself-oh,” you cut off with a moan as he thrusted a second finger into your needy cunt, your grip on his shoulders tightening, attempting to stifle your louder moans as his fingers pumped in and out of you roughly and quickly. 

“I don’t remember telling you I was satisfied. Keep talking,” He coaxed, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as he finger-fucked you.

You took in his state as you begged for him- his upper chest -exposed from a few undone buttons- , neck, and face were flushed and he was beginning to get sweaty. His breathing was already somewhat irregular. “Please, please, please fuck me, Sol. I will do anything, I need you so badly, I can’t take it,” you pleaded with him desperately.

“Good girl,” he praised, and you felt your heart soar. He slowed his fingers down before removing them completely and brought them up to your lips. “Clean my fingers.” He demanded, tracing your bottom lip with his soaked index finger. You whined at the loss of his warm fingers in your cunt.

You parted your lips, sucking his fingers into your mouth. You winced at the taste of yourself, but was committed to pleasing him. You ran your tongue up and down and between the two fingers, ensuring his fingers would be coated with your saliva. Suddenly he shoved his fingers further into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and then removing his fingers from your mouth altogether. He had an amused look on his face as you gagged from his ministrations. “Such a filthy whore.” He murmured, wiping his fingers off on his pants. 

You awaited his next move, feeling your cunt throb as he undid his belt and pushed his pants down enough to pull his cock out of his boxers. 

“Open your mouth,” He commanded, and you obediently opened your mouth, looking up into his eyes. He leaned in close enough to where his lips brushed against yours. He then proceeded to spit in your mouth, his hand grabbing your  cheeks. “Don’t you dare swallow,” he ordered, and you closed your mouth, savoring his saliva.

“Suck me off, kitty,” he demanded, and you slipped off the desk to sink down onto your knees. Pressing a kiss to his tip, you took him into your mouth, coating his cock with his and your saliva. Your tongue massaged the underside of his cock as you bobbed your head up and down, Solomons fingers threading into your hair. He suddenly yanked your head back by your hair, your mouth popping off of his cock, hands coming up to grab his thighs to steady yourself. He had your head pulled back, your neck and chest exposed to him as he spit on you once more, his saliva landing on your collarbone, beginning to trail down to your breast. He groaned at the sight before shoving you back down onto his cock.

He began to snap his hips forward, using your mouth as nothing but a toy for his own pleasure. He kept hitting the back of your throat, reveling in your gags and gasps for air. 

“You’re taking my cock like you were meant for this, you slut,” he spat out through gritted teeth, continuing to thrust into your mouth. “You’re my little cock whore, huh? Aren't you?” Your lungs burned, your throat and mouth was sore, and your jaw was beginning to hurt. Tears were forming in your eyes as he abused your mouth, but you couldn’t help but love it. He groaned out, sighing as he yanked you off his cock once more.

“Get up and turn around before I decide to finish on your face,” he demanded, lazily stroking himself. You scrambled to your feet, and turned around, your back facing him. He pushed you up against the desk and pressed down on your upper back, bending you over. You let out a shaky moan as he rubbed his cock between your folds, teasing your entrance.

“Solomon, please,” you breathed out, on the verge of tears.

“I know, my cock whore needs filled, don’t you?” He groaned out as he began to push himself into your core, his hands grabbing your hips roughly.

You let out a moan as he began to stretch your walls, not used to his size. He pushed himself all the way into you, bottoming out with a grunt. Choking out a moan, you pushed your hips back against him, needing him to move.

“So needy, so impatient,” he tutted, and briefly pulled back to slam back into your cunt, his fingers digging into your hips, bringing you back to meet his thrusts as he began to settle on a somewhat quick and rough pace. 

You let out wanton moans every time his hips snapped forward to pound into your dripping cunt. His one hand snaked up to press on your lower back, the other keeping its death grip on your hip. 

“You're gripping onto my cock so tightly, fuck,” he groaned out, speeding up his pace. “You fucking love it, don’t you? Huh? You love my cock fucking you into this desk?” He breathed out, his hand that was on your lower back snaking underneath you to rub fervent circles on your clit. 

With him leaning down to rub your clit, the position changed, and his cock was hitting deeper than beforehand, slamming into that sweet spot. The moan you let out was obscene, the pleasure he was giving you being too much to contain. 

“Shit,” he moaned out, keeping up the pace but slamming into you even harder. You so badly wanted to see his face, how beautiful he would look with his hair sticking to his forehead from sweat, his skin completely flushed, his eyebrows screwed upward, eyes tightly shut. 

The hand on your hip came up to your neck, and before you knew it he was shoving two fingers into your mouth while relentlessly pounding into your cunt. 

With him hitting your sweet spot and still fervently rubbing circles into your clit, you felt a knot begin to form in your stomach, and it was tightening fast. 

“S-sol, I’m gonna cum, please can I?” You moaned out around his fingers, and felt his thrusts becoming irregular, not able to keep the pace.

“Cum for me,” he groaned out, and you moaned out his name as you came, his fingers rubbing you all throughout your high. Your cunt clenched around him as you came, causing him to spill inside of you closely after, both hands gripping onto your bruised hips. The moan he let out while filling you was the hottest thing you had ever heard. He gave a few more thrusts before sighing, and slowly pulling his cock out of you. You whimpered at the loss of the full feeling, still trying to get your breathing under control. You felt his cum dripping out of your cunt as you heard him fiddling with his belt buckle. This was where he was going to leave you, right?

“MC, I’ll be right back,” you heard Solomon mutter, swiftly walking out of the room. You felt a pang in your chest as you wondered if maybe he wouldn’t come back, as ridiculous as that sounded. As you began to stand up, he re-entered the room.

“Whoa, whoa, don’t move yet. I need to clean you, love,” He stated, and you felt a warm washcloth gently cleaning around your lower region and thighs. Your heart swelled- he was helping you clean up. You couldn’t help but swoon at how caring and gentle he was being.

“Here, can you sit up for me?” He gently asked, helping you turn over. 

“Y’know Sol, that was the best sex of my life, but you still didn't paralyze me.” you quipped, sitting up as he began to dab the warm washcloth on your collarbone and down your chest. 

“...Yet.” He teased, raising his eyebrows and shooting you a serious look before letting out a light laugh. His smile was so lovely- you wished you could stay in this moment forever. “Also, you flatter me too much,” he added, a hint of red flushing his cheeks as he focused on cleaning you up. 

“Aaaannnddd...there we go. I think I’ve cleaned up my mess.” He announced, setting the washcloth down beside you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He was being uncharacteristically sweet, but you weren’t complaining.

He picked up whatever clothes you had on the floor and handed them to you, helping you pull your shirt over your head after you clasped on your bra, watching as you pulled your pants on. As soon as you were situated, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. 

As shocked as you were, you embraced him back, gently rubbing his back. His arm pressed on your lower back to push into him, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. 

“I think we should continue this,” he murmured into the top of your head.

“Continue what? Having sex?” You questioned, your face buried in his chest.

“Well, yes, if you want. But I mean....this.This spark between us is worth exploring, don't you think?” He responded, and if you listened hard enough, you could hear the smallest bit of nervousness in his voice.

“Sol....” You trailed off, pulling back from him slightly to look up at his soft gaze. “I would love that.” 

“I’m glad.” He beamed, squeezing you for a moment and then pulling away.

“Now....about that levitation spell,” he began, raising an eyebrow and bringing his hand up to his chin thoughtfully, “in the midst of our fun, we knocked the book off of the desk. Show me what you’ve learned- put the book back on the desk using a levitation spell.” He said, looking at you expectantly.

With a huff of disbelief, you looked at the book, and began to recite the incantation, seeing it gracefully float up onto the desk in your mind, your hand coming up to direct the book. And, right in front of both of your eyes, the book successfully levitated and was placed gently on the desk. You looked at Solomon, expecting him to congratulate you. 

“I always knew my cock worked wonders,” he grinned, arrogance suffocating the air around him. 

You couldn't believe you chose this cocky old man. 

- FIN

authors’ note: this is heavily inspired by Solomons new human world outfit. I saw the quote he had in the announcement for the new lessons and before I knew it the spirit of horny had possessed me and this was being written. 

Total time: 4hrs 33mins

Wordcount: 3782

[pascalpanic]

Prompt idea: Lingerie with Frankie Morales but make it cute/funny? Picture this, you've got all of the fancy bits you've never worn before and you're struggling with the fiddly latches, crying out, "I can't get this shit on!" You finally figure it out, show it off to Frankie and he loves it. But he likes sex best when there's nothing between the two of you, so he works on unwrapping you. You notice his lips stop moving on you for a few seconds before he whines, "I can't get this shit off!"

Tangled Up (Frankie “Catfish” Morales x f!Reader)

Summary: ^^

W/C: 3K

Warnings: uh this is filth. SMUT 18+, oral sex (f receiving), lingerie, unprotected PIV sex (wrap it before you tap it, babes), Frankie has no patience and is rlly strong

A/N: this speaks to me, anon. I love this. I hope you do too!

Frankie already thinks you’re the most beautiful thing on the face of this planet. Every little thing you do is amazing to him, the way you call his name, the way you bat your lashes at him when you really want something.

He’s absolutely obsessed with your body; he’s told you that and demonstrated time after time that he thinks you’re the goddamn prettiest thing he’s ever seen, that your body is absolutely perfect in its uniqueness.

Naturally, Frankie has his favorite pieces of clothing on you, the way they cling to or flow off of your wonderful form. Frankie is a big believer that the body is the soul, and he’s absolutely in love with yours. Anything to accentuate your soft skin, with colors that stand out against the tone of it, drives Frankie absolutely wild.

Lingerie is his favorite. It surprised you at first. Frankie is a patient man, slow and soft when he wants to be, prioritizing you over himself in everything he does but especially in the bedroom. Something like that feels self-indulgent to him, like it’s his one weakness, you looking like that just for him. Then he gets to unwrap you like the best fucking present he’s ever received- yeah, Frankie is really into lingerie on you.

He’s gifted it to you, gone shopping with you to buy it, but his favorite thing is being surprised. The element of shock and sensuality when he’s confronted with the most beautiful body wrapped in such perfect garments is his favorite sensation, next to digging his fingers into your hips and pulling your body against his to kiss you.

You know how much he loves it, and that motivates you to do it somewhat often. The problem is that lingerie is expensive. You usually find yourself repeating outfits for Frankie to rapidly strip from your body, which he clearly doesn’t care about. You look sexy, and he loves it. But you love the surprise, the shock and admiration as he has to run those tough and strong hands over the lace.

Frankie particularly loves dark colors, like black or a deep velvety red, on you. He thinks they look painfully seductive, tempting.

That’s what’s motivated you to buy the piece laying on your bed. It’s black, with a bra and panties and quite a lot of straps, buckles and loops built into it. You’d been hesitant, but seeing it in real life makes you even more excited. Frankie gets home soon; time to get in.

The panties go on easily, obviously. The next part is the challenge. There are straps upon straps, endless slots for you to shove limbs through. You hold it up and frown, not quite sure how to get it on.

Wandering to the mirror, you shove yourself into the thing, making some errors but eventually finding the proper way to wear it.

You look hot: both physically and sexually. There’s a lacy collar, attached to the intersection of the bra. The cups are mesh with lacy decor to cover the nipples, and there are many straps over your abdomen that hook up to the panties. All in all, it’s a complicated number, but you smile as you do a little twirl. Frankie will like it.

The other hot: you’re sweating. It took effort to put it on, lots of odd angles to pull and tug. You feel warm and flushed, so it’s a relief to plop on the edge of the bed and let the cool air of the house get you acclimated again.

You wait, mindlessly scrolling through your phone as you relax on the bed. Frankie’s schedule is far from exact, but you know the 15-20 minute window he’ll arrive home in. Lucky for you, the garage door opens at the normal time he arrives home.

Tossing your phone aside, you perch seductively on the edge of the bed, crossing your legs and leaning back on your arms. “Frankie, baby,” you call into the house as the door opens.

“Hey honey,” he calls back. You can hear him taking off his boots, taking off his jacket. His footsteps ascend with him as he climbs the stairs, and you fidget a little with the lingerie.

He stops in the kitchen, doing something or another. You frown a little. “Frankie,” you call again.

“Just one second, babe,” he chuckles, grabbing a glass of water and something to eat in the kitchen. When he has his things, he meanders through the house and to the bedroom. He nearly drops what he’s holding at the sight waiting for him.

He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Nothing special, but he always looks so good in it. You naturally smirk just at the sight of your man, of how perfect he is. “How was work?” You purr, letting your head loll to the side so he can get a full view of your body.

Frankie swallows hard. “One second.”

You frown and he walks away, putting the water and food back down in the kitchen. He hurries back just to stand in the doorway, staring at you. “I… wow.”

You giggle a little. “I know you like something to tug on,” you tease and snap one of the straps against your skin. The sound goes straight to Frankie’s dick, steadily growing harder in those dark-wash jeans. “Well?”

“You look like a fucking bombshell, babe,” he groans as he walks closer and falls to his knees at the edge of the bed. “Holy fuck,” he shivers as his fingers trace up your bare thighs, sliding beneath the waistline of the panties.

“Glad you like it,” you chuckle and take off his cap, throwing it aside so you can bury your hands in those pretty curls. They’re so soft, fluffy when you run your fingers through them.

Frankie’s lips find your thigh, starting just above the knee and making their way up. “Love it,” he nods, murmuring it into the soft and sensitive skin there. “But you know I like you better with nothing to separate our skin,” he flirts, looking up at you with those round eyes that make you weak.

You shiver under his work, twirling one wave around your finger. “Take at least a little time to enjoy it, baby,” you pout.

He sits back on his knees and nods. “Of course. You know what…” he trails off as he stands, going over to the dresser and grabbing something from on top of it.

He returns moments later with your Polaroid, smirking a little. “Now I can enjoy it longer,” he chuckles as he pops open the lens. “Pose for me, baby girl,” he says, his voice growing darker and deeper as he takes in the sight.

You do, legs spread and chest pushed out, looking at him seductively through the camera. There’s a flash and a click as the camera takes the picture, then the film pops out through the bottom, still black as it develops. Frankie sets it back on the dresser, along with the photo, then stands at the foot of the bed. “How do you suggest I appreciate it, hm?” He asks.

Eyeing him, you can’t help but smile. “Take your shirt off first.”

“Okay,” he laughs softly and pulls off the soft gray tee, exposing his muscles and slight tummy. It’s such a beautiful sight, and your eyes follow the thin trail of hair down.

“Now the belt.”

“Should I just presume you want it all off?” He asks again, tilting his head.

Laughing, you fall flat onto your back on the bed. “Yes. All of it. Off.” You lift your head just slightly, dropping it as you realize it might add a couple of chins.

“No, watch me,” he orders, and it makes you smirk. It’s an easy domination, the way Frankie could do whatever the fuck he wants with you. Neither of you ever agreed upon anything, never made a pact and discussed the idea of something serious, but it’s something the two of you learned over your time of knowing and loving each other. Frankie knows what you like, and you know what he likes: when he gives the orders. When he’s fully nude, his thick cock heavy and reddened, you smile even wider. “What next?” He asks, allowing the role to be played.

You pretend to think about it, stroking your chin. “Well, do whatever you want to me. But the lingerie stays on.”

Frankie pouts. “I wanna fuck you, and I like it best when there’s nothing between us.”

“Then find another way,” you shrug, that devious little smile tugging up the corner of your mouth. “Do something else. Maybe if you’re good enough, I’ll take it off for you and let you fuck me.”

“Oh, you’ll let me fuck you?” He teases as he gets on his knees, one hand on each thigh as he pushes them apart and nestles between them. “How kind.” His lips trace along the inside of your thigh, slowly working their way from the knee to the apex.

You shiver beneath him, wiggling at the anticipation. “I’m giving,” you sigh, any sarcasm you attempt to give lost in a moan as Frankie mouths at your clit through the panties.

“You sure are,” he murmurs, his own body shuddering at the wetness of the lacy fabric covering your slit. His tongue contributes to the dampness, starting at your opening and slowly licking all the way up to nip at your clit through the lace.

“Baby,” you whimper, your hands digging into his hair.

“You told me to take my time,” he mumbles and looks up at you, eyes darkened with lust. “I’m just following orders, baby girl.” He pushes the panties aside and laps at your folds.

A whimper trails from your lips and your back arches off the bed, desperate for more. “God, I fucking love you.”

Frankie traces two fingers through your slick, teasing at your entrance and sitting back on his heels to watch the sight that accompanies the unholy sounds. “You think you love me? I got to come home from work to this,” he groans, taking in the sight of you and plunging two thick fingers inside of you. “Nothing better than this, pretty girl,” he shudders and dives back in, sucking at your clit and tracing it slowly with his tongue.

You keen into his touch, grinding your hips back against his mouth. “Fuck, Frankie,” you cry out as he curves his fingers inside of you, hitting that perfect spongy spot.

“Yeah?” He murmurs into you, his tongue barely resting for a second.

“Yeah, oh fuck,” you shiver. “Baby, don’t you dare stop.”

“Couldn’t if I tried,” he groans, working his tongue harder against you.

It’s all too much in just the right way. The cresting wave that builds inside of you finally breaks as Frankie swirls the sensitive bud around his tongue, and you whine his name as the release pours through your body, making you shake and squirm and moan. “There we go,” he murmurs as he pulls away, your body coming down from its high. “That enough appreciation for you?”

“Plenty,” you nod. “Now fuck me. Please.”

He smirks a little and stands. “Finally,” he chuckles as he runs his fingers over the endless straps covering your body. He snaps one of them against your breast, making the soft flesh ripple. He groans at the sight, of the way your tit bounces against it.

Frankie pulls you to sit up, reaches behind and unclasps the bra. Normally, that would be enough to get you naked, but there’s a neck harness and straps and to be honest, he doesn’t know where to get started. “How the fuck did you get this thing on?” He murmurs.

You laugh a little. “It took me a really long time, honestly. It was hard.”

Frankie sighs and pulls at the straps, trying to find a good way to get it off. His deft fingers search your body for some kind of clasp or buckle, but find none. He unclips the panties from the top, at least, and slides them off, then gets back to working.

His eyes look up at you and he pouts. “Come on. Give me a hint, baby.”

“I don’t fucking know, Frankie,” you laugh, still on an endorphin high from the orgasm moments ago. “I don’t know how this thing got on and I know even less about how to get it off.”

Frankie’s forehead falls against your chest, groaning. “Fuck.” He tries gathering the straps and pulling them up. That doesn’t work. He searches under every strap for maybe velcro or snaps. Nothing. He pushes you back down onto your back.

“Goddamnit!” He groans and his lack of patience gets the best of him. Gripping the straps, Frankie pulls them hard until the straps break, leaving you bare beneath him and completely stunned.

The straps fall to your sides, exposing your full chest and abdomen. “Frankie!” You exclaim, honestly more than turned on from his little show of strength.

“Sorry,” he bites his lip and looks down at you, but you know he’s really not. The tip of his cock is leaking, red and flushed and you know he’d do just about anything to get inside you now.

You giggle a little, the adrenaline from the moment rushing through your veins. “That was fucking hot,” you admit, spreading your legs. “You got me stripped down. Now fuck me, Frankie, please.”

The embarrassment is gone from his face within seconds. “Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, climbing over you and kissing you desperately hard.

You cup his face and hike your knees up around his waist, kissing him back just as readily, tongue pressing against the seam of his lips. He allows you in in the exact moment he thrusts inside of you, making you moan into his mouth before breaking away.

“Frankie,” you whimper as he’s pushed fully inside of you, throbbing and twitching as you say his name. “Fuck, baby,” you whine, his thick cock pressed against your cervix. “You gonna go easy on me?”

“Not in the slightest,” he mumbles back and pulls mostly out before pushing back in, hard. You cry out his name over and over, grabbing at his shoulder blades and back. You can feel the muscles there shift as he pushes, holding himself up over you. His head falls down with a groan as you reach one hand behind him to teasingly tug at his balls.

In return, Frankie lowers himself over you and brings one hand down to circle your clit, thrusting in time with the movement of his worn fingertips. God, he’s so damn good with his hands, always has been, and you whimper that into his ear, moving both hands back up to clutch at his back, nails digging into his skin.

It’s almost a competition of pleasure between the two of you, who can do more of the tiny little things the other loves, who can get the other to their peak first. Frankie kisses at your neck, mumbling sweet words into your skin, crying out as your nails drag down his back. “Baby, please, you feel so fucking good, god you’re so big,” you groan next to his ear, filling it with all of the affirmations he loves.

“You‘re just so fucking tight,” he grunts, thrusting harder and harder into you. You get tighter as you clench around him, and Frankie knows that it means you’re close. “Come on, baby girl. You gonna cum on my dick?”

“Yes, yes,” you chant, head falling back into the bed. “Oh, fuck, Frankie-oh!” You squeal as he hits the sweet spot inside of you once more, his fingers working in the perfect rhythm with his hips to make you fall apart, clenching and fluttering around him as more slick coats his cock.

He groans at the feeling, shivering at the way you clamp down on him. “W-where? Where do you want it, baby?” He asks you, knowing he’s about to burst at any second, the way you’re absolutely destroying him.

“In me, please,” you beg, and it’s an offer Frankie can’t refuse. He lets go, filling you with the hot, sticky seed. You whine at the feeling, desperately gripping his skin.

He whines your name in your ear as he comes down, shivering and pulling out, lying next to you on top of the ruined lingerie.

“That was expensive,” you whimper as you limply toy with a strap.

“I’ll buy you a new set. Two new sets,” he tells you, breathless and sweaty. “God, you looked so good in that,” he sighs, chuckling a little. He gets up and wanders to the bathroom, getting a warm, wet cloth and coming back to clean you up.

The sight of his cum dripping from inside you is almost enough to make him hard again, but he bites his lip and wipes you down, tenderly kissing your thigh. “Thank you,” you murmur weakly and smile down at him.

“Doing my job,” he teases and kisses your knee before cleaning himself off and tossing the cloth in the laundry. When he lies down next to you, he takes the discarded lingerie and throws it off the bed, wrapping you in his arms. “You’re so amazing,” he chuckles. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” you hum and kiss his face, nuzzling your nose into the curve of his flushed and dewey neck. “I have stuff to make for dinner.”

The reminder that it’s only 5:00 or so makes Frankie laugh a little. “You don’t have to. You’ve done enough for me tonight,” he murmurs, kissing your temple lovingly.

“Never said I was doing it alone,” you chuckle sleepily, your eyes slipping shut. “You’re helping.”

“Damn right I am. Maybe we take a nap first though,” Frankie says as he pulls you closer in his arms.

“A nap sounds good,” you nod and kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @tacticalsparkles

[itrytowrite-things]

Murder podcasts

Spencer Reid x reader 

Summary: Y/N has a tendency to listen to murder podcasts while doing chores, one day Spencer comes in unannounced scaring Y/N into action. (This summary sucks but it’s fluffy) 

A/N: shout out to @with-paint, she helped me form some of this fic so check them out. 

The eerie background music and narrator filled the kitchen as I scrubbed diligently at a plate. I blinked down at it, trying in vain to remember what the hell I used it for that would cause such a stubborn stain of food. Sighing, I squeezed the soap bottle some more and ran hot water over it. Maybe soaking it would help? 

Grabbing a few of the cups I had washed, I spun around from the sink to a towel I had laid out earlier. I scrunched my nose as cold soap suds ran down my arm, hit my elbow and fell to the floor in a sticky mess I didn’t want to deal with right now. 

I was so engrossed in the podcast playing over the Alexa that I barely even processed the grueling chore that was longer than normal. I was lost in the words, that an hour longer scrubbing at dishes seemed almost fun. The dishwasher had completely died a couple of weeks ago. 

Normally Spencer would speed read the manual to figure out what was wrong with the stupid machine. But unfortunately, his case in Michigan was taking longer than he anticipated. So, he hadn’t been home to look into it, leaving me to hand wash the dishes. I didn’t mind, it was a mindless task and allowed me to catch up on my favorite podcast. 

“They found her body a week later, twenty minutes from their house,” I shook my head at that, case freaking solved. Her husband obviously killed her. I mean there’s no way the police didn’t solve this case, come on.

I moved from the towel back to the sink, sticking my hands back into the soapy water. I always believed that I should be a detective. I could solve these cases easily, Spencer claims that suspicion can only take me so far and the reason that they don’t catch the guy is not because they don’t suspect it, but because they don’t have hard evidence. I normally just scoff and give him a kiss knowing that I would get the bad guy in the end, “hard evidence” my ass. 

“Two months later the police came in and found Jeff’s disembodied head laying on their kitchen counter.” My jaw dropped and I turned around furiously, bringing a wet butter knife with me, on instinct I pointed the knife at the device. 

“Oh shit.” I said to the speaker, as if it were relaying the case itself. Well turns out I was wrong. I cleared my throat and lowered the stupid knife. I placed it down and tried my best to look less scandalized. We all make mistakes. So I might have been a little off in my husband theory, but I mean I had only heard half the case at that point so it doesn’t speak anything of my amazing detective skills. I nodded at that and tossed the knife into a little stack of silverware. The metallic sound echoing around the kitchen. I smirked at my good throw and turned back to the sink. 

I quickly got into the true grove of washing the dishes, listening to the more gruesome details of the case. Turns out the killer did quite a number on old Jeff. I was halfway done with the remaining dishes when I felt a tap on my shoulder sending my heart into a frenzy. 

I whirled around quickly bringing the closest item with me as a weapon. The plastic spatula slapped the asalint straight in the face creating an awfully loud twack sound that bounced off the kitchen walls. I blinked in horror at realizing who exactly was standing in front of me. 

Spencer's cheek turned red immediately. 

“Oh my god! Spence! I am so sorry!” I dropped the spatula and brought my other hand to his face trying to soothe his skin. My hand was covered in water and soap suds, and it dripped down his face onto the already wet floor.

“I am so so sorry. You scared me.” I rubbed my thumb over the spot, feeling his heated skin. Jesus, I felt awful. I didn’t hold anything back when I hit him. I figured I was fending for my life, not greeting my boyfriend. 

“It’s okay.” His much larger hand cupped mine removing it from his face. The redness had died down a little, making his skin a rosy pink instead of the previous bright red. He looked adorable which only made me feel worse. Who looks that cute after getting slapped in the face with a spatula? 

Spencer startled me yet again when a chuckle came bubbling out of him. His laugh was like someone bottled the sound of happiness. It made my own laughter arise every time without a doubt even if I didn’t understand what was funny.

“I guess I don’t have to worry about you protecting yourself.” A loud squeak sound emitted from my body unexpectedly followed by more laughter. I slapped him very lightly across the chest, kissing his unharmed cheek. 

“You're lucky I wasn’t cutting vegetables.” I said,  rustling my way into his arms pulling his body against my tightly, loving the way his laughter shook my entire body. I felt the short press of his lips against the crown of my head before tucking my head into the nook of his neck. I inhaled deeply, taking the scent of him with me. The apartment had started to lose its scent with him being gone for so long. I was beyond eager for the apartment to smell like us again.

“I think those podcasts are giving you wild ideas.” 

“They would never find your body Dr.Reid.” I teased, poking gently at his side making him squirm in my grip. Another round of laughter filled the small space, it was only when it died down that I realized my podcast was still running in the background. 

“Alexa, stop,” I shouted into the air stopping the podcast. “The neighbor did it.” I said with coincidence knowing that my answer was correct this time. Spencer let out a belt of laughter, nodding his head, a big grin on his face. 

I pulled back from Spencer taking in his features for the first time. He looked tired, his eye bags had doubled creating a skunk in effect. I could see the trouble in his eyes, the case was hard. It killed me to see him after a hard case, he looked more and more defeated after each one. However, it was what he loved doing and my job wasn’t to erase the trauma of his job, but to ease him back into daily life. I thumbed his eye bags lazily, a pout taking over my face. 

“You wanna take a shower and I’ll start us some dinner.” I asked gently. Not wanting to completely destroy the quiet we created. He nodded slightly looking younger than ever. I quickly pulled him back into me taking all of his weight. “I love you bub.” His hair felt silky against my fingertips as I disentangled the curls. 

“Love you too.” He mumbled, his heated breath warming my skin. I waited a few comfortable minutes rocking our conjoined bodies in the cozy silence of our kitchen, I took a deep breath and said what was on my mind. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

I don’t ever ask Spencer for the details of his cases. He either goes into a tangent without prompting or doesn’t feel like talking about it. I used to think that talking to Spencer about his job would be like listening to my murder podcasts. It honestly was one of the things I was excited for, but I soon found out it’s nothing like that.

When Spencer spoke of cases it was personal. He felt every death that was caused and saw every killing through the eyes of monsters. He held so much emotion in his voice when he spoke of the victims, that I often can’t help but cry. How a person can hold that much pain and still continue to do it everyday, is beside me. 

He shook his head, squeezing my torso before finally pulling back and placing a soft kiss to my lips. 

I continued the dishes, washing the last few. I left the podcast off, listening instead to the shower from down the hall. I scrubbed off the last of the grime before starting the oven. A simple dinner was always best in these situations. I pulled out a pre-made chicken pot pie from the freezer and placed it in the oven. 

As I moved to dry and put away the dishes while waiting for pie to finish. Spencer emerged from the bathroom freshly bathed. He wore a thin gray shirt paired with some soft looking sweatpants. My upper lip jutted out automatically. God I love him. 

“Feel better?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to startle any peace that the shower might have brought him. He nodded slowly. 

“What did you cook?”

“A chicken pot pie, I hope that’s okay.” 

“It’s perfect.” He smiled and returned to my arms, kissing my neck once before tucking his head into my neck. The edge of his wet hair scraped against my skin in an uncomfortable way, yet I only moved enough to rub circles into his back. 

A loud beep emitted from the oven caused me to jump in Spencer's arms. He let out a small chuckle. 

“Pick us something to watch and I’ll plate us some food.” I hummed turning my back to him. I heard him walking towards the living room as I bent to retrieve the hot food. 

Spencer sat criss cross on the couch, Les Enfants du Paradis was displayed on the TV. I handed him the steaming bowl and sat down, sitting close enough for our knees to knock together. I have no idea what Les Enfants du Paradis was, but I would watch literally anything he wanted as long as he was here. 

“It’s in French, but I figured I could whisper the translations to you while we watch. Or I could pick something else?” 

“No! This is perfect Spence. I love it when you translate, you tell the story better.” He let out a little blush highlighting his previous slap mark. I bit my lip and winced slightly, “How’s your face?” 

He touched the spot faintly, he didn’t wince when his fingers made contact which was a good sign. However, I have an inkling that a small bruise would form in the center of the slap which was going to be a fun story to tell his colleagues Monday. 

“I’ve had worse, but you wield a lot of power with a cheap piece of plastic.”

“I am professionally trained in the art of spatula wielding Spence, don’t try that at home.” I stared at him, my face blank before a blast of laughter came out of both of us. One can only be so serious when you are talking about slapping people in the face with kitchen utensils. 

Spencer started up the movie, and we remained there for the rest of the evening. Laughter and dramatic sighs followed by even more dramatic translations from Spencer. At some point he went so off script that even I could tell his story was bullshit. I didn’t call him out though just allowed him to spit nonsense, I would let him create fake French stories until he was blue in the face if that meant we got to stay in this happy bubble forever. 

[mgg-theprettiestboy]

prank wars

matthew gray gubler x fem!reader

request: Sooooo I was wondering if you were still taking requests and if you were could I get one with mgg. Like he’s filming one of the unauthorised documentaries and she’s on set so he decides to prank her but she pranks him back and it’s just all fluffy with them going back and forth?? Thanks love your work by the way!!

FLUFF

in which Matthew starts a prank war that he can’t win

warnings: cursing

“You weren't here for the first few seasons. I’m not surprised you don't understand what’s going on. He hasn’t done this in years.”

You frowned at AJ, “what the hell is an unauthorised documentary?”

Paget shrugged, “its basically Matthew running around with a camera and acting like an ass. He acts like a dick, pulls a couple pranks, usual Matthew stuff.”

“If he pranks me, I’ll get a step ladder, climb it, and punch him in his stupid face,” you snorted a laugh, pouring yourself what felt like your tenth cup of coffee. Paget laughed, “don’t tell him that. He’d love that. Probably record it, too.”

“Who’d love what?” Adam asked, as he and Matthew walked into the room. AJ smiled, “Y/N wanted to know what the hell an unauthorised documentary was.”

Adam laughed as Matthew grinned, “it’s just a comedy skit, really. I act weird and film it.”

“You do that every day. You just don't usually film it,” you pointed out, which resulted in Matthew picking up a cushion from the couch and throwing it at you. You held your hand out to stop it from hitting you and your coffee, before glaring at Matthew, “don't start on me, Gubler, I’ll ruin your life.”

“You wanna bet? I will make you the target of my attacks, if I have to. I was planning on terrorising Daniel, but you will make just as good a victim,” he threatened you, picking up a plastic spoon and pointing it at you as if it was a weapon. You scoffed, “oh please. I would have you crying, begging for mercy.”

“Is that so? Well, we’ll see about that. Adam, tell Daniel I no longer need his assistance for the documentary. I have a new plan,” Matthew said to Adam, before staring you down as he left the room.

Well tried to. Rather, he tried to stare at you as he walked backwards out of the room, which just resulted in him bumping into a bunch of things before managing to make his way out of the room. Adam raised a brow, and looking to you, “do you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into?”

“Yes. I don't think he does, though.”

Monday.

It took the cast and crew an hour to get you out of the bathroom. Somehow, the door handle disappeared. You didn’t have to even look at Matthew to know he was the guilty party. He made the first move. And he was going to regret it.

Tuesday.

Someone superglued Matthew’s trailer door shut. And also superglued everything in his trailer, so not only were his personal items glued to the counter and walls, his car keys were as well. He was stuck on set for another hour after everyone went home.

Wednesday.

Nothing happened, except you both kept jumping out to scare each other. The cast knew it was the calm before the storm.

Thursday.

Matthew walked onto set, chipper as usual. More so today. Everyone knew he must have something planned. However, you were no where to be found. You came running onto set, late, apologising as you headed towards hair and makeup, where you would also get changed into costume. Matthew narrowed his eyes at you, but more specifically, your outfit.

“That’s my shirt,” he said in disbelief, as the cast began to look as well. You had to hide your grin, looking confused as you look at the t-shirt you had on, “how could this possible be yours?”

“That’s– that’s my shirt– how the fuck did you–?” Matthew was unable to form a coherent sentence. He knew he hadn’t worn that shirt in a while, and that it was sitting in the back of his closet. Or so he thought. You simply shrugged, “maybe you’re getting confused. This can’t be your shirt. How could it be?”

He watched you as you walked away, raising his brows. Maybe he had met his match.

Friday.

You had completely baffled Matthew, coming in again, dressed in another one of his shirts. So he cornered you whenever you were on your way to lunch, pinning you against a wall.

“Okay, enough fucking around. How are you doing this?” He frowned, and you grinned, “aw, Gubler. Are you admitting defeat already?”

He scoffed, “no. Never.”

“Then you’ll never know,” you smiled, “besides, I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my shirt.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, before you shimmied out of his hold and blew him a kiss as you headed off to lunch.

It was going to be a busy weekend for Matthew.

Monday.

Matthew had had the worst weekend. He physically couldn't figure out how to get back at you. His unauthorised documentary was finished, and he had edited it in a way that made it look like he was only pranking you, but in his heart, he knew he had lost this battle.

And of course, you came in on Monday morning, wearing a shirt and shorts that were obviously too big for you, but you also had oddly large shoes on. And then, the cherry on top: mismatched socks.

The entire cast was in stitches laughing at seeing you, and again whenever Matthew saw you. This time, he actually joined in on their laughter.

“Okay, thats it, I call. You win, Y/L/N,” he sighed with a smile, and you grinned, “well I never. It took you long enough.”

He chuckled, shaking your hand, “I know when I’m beaten.”

“No you don't,” you scoffed, and he rolled his eyes, “yeah, I know... can I have my clothes back now?”

You laughed, nodding, “yeah, I’ll go get changed.”

And he sat on the sofa and waited for you to return. While the whole cast laughed and chattered about how you had beaten him, he sat with a small smile on his face as he tried to think of how he was going to ask you out.

“Here you go,” you handed him a plastic bag with his clothes in them, before walking away, “oh, and thank your mom for all her help, will you?”

-

took me ages to write but here ya go!

[afictionalwhore]

Room for Two

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❀ AN: this is a gift for @lorlocks as a thank you for all her wonderful and beautiful art. Pls go check her out. She is amazing OTL

❀ TW: Shig being fluffy?

❀ WC: 2.6k

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It was in college that you met Shigaraki and the rest of the League. After a rough week of classes you wandered into the bar operated by the League. In your drunken state, you had confided your college girl woes to Kurogiri, who handed information about your quirk to Shigaraki. Later in the week, you found the leader of the League, along with Dabi, sitting on your worn couch. The two had planned to kidnap you, but after just a few minutes of talking, they were pleasantly surprised to find that you were more than willing to just go along with them.

Due to your quiet demeanor, you weren’t usually picked to go out on missions with the others, but your beloved leader deemed it dangerous enough to make use of your quirk. You didn’t have a dangerous quirk like Toga or Shig. It was the opposite. You could project a force field and protect those surrounding you from both physical attacks and objects and quirks like Aizawa and Shinsou’s. Your quirk, shield, was perfect for hero work. You were even recommended to UA in the sidekick program. But your social skills failed and you graduated without a job lined up and without friends.

This is how you ended up with Shig. You were scheduled to go on a small breakin mission the next morning with Shig as a test of your quirk before his planned attack on your alma mater. He wanted to make sure you could protect him in case anything went wrong.

You traveled far outside the usual vicinity of league activities so as not to arouse suspicion. Hours into your journey, as the sun began to set, your tire blew.

“Fucking dammit,” Shig said as he kicked the blown tire after you pointed out the screw lodged in it. Luckily, you had learned a few mechanics from your father. The man insisted you knew how to change a tire lest you fall helpless to a gang of villains on the side of the road. You shook your head, knowing his disapproval if he saw your current company now.

Shigaraki’s pacing and grumbling behind you made you more nervous than you’d have liked. You coughed while working, hoping to gain his attention. The lanky man continued his ways, wearing a hole in the dirt behind you. You coughed again, this time catching his attention.

“What’s the matter?” he scratched.

“Nothing, just. It’s getting late, and I think we should find a place for the night.”

“And? So?”

“Well, uh,” you stuttered. “There's a motel not far down the road. We passed it not long ago. Umm. Why don’t you get us a couple rooms for the night?”

The heavy padding of Shigaraki’s footsteps stopped behind you. You felt his staring on your back, and panicked for a moment. You tracked back through what you could have said to have upset him. Suggesting he walk alone back to a shady motel in the middle of nowhere could definitely have done it.

“You’re right,” you heard his rough, scratchy voice and felt yourself visibly relax.

“My, um,” you stumbled through your words, not expecting to get this far. “My wallet is in the console. You can get my card out and—”

“Tsch,” Shigaraki cut you off, “Are you stupid or something? Use your card with your name? They’ll trace back to you and expose us. It’s fine. I have cash.” A dry hand reached up to scratch at his neck.

There was the Shig you knew and loved. But he had a good point. You blushed as you bent back down to continue your work.

You relaxed as you heard Shigaraki’s footsteps recede. You were finally able to focus on the task at hand. You thought about your situation as you removed the hubcap. You had gone with Shigaraki and Dabi first to find meaning in your lonely life. The more time you spent with the league, you began to find your place in the world.

You never really had a place to fit in, and maybe that’s why you felt that you finally did fit in with the League of Villains. All of you, in some way, shape, or form, were outcasts of society and held a distaste for hero society. Even in the place you felt you fit best, you were still deemed an oddball. Shy and always blushing, you never really had much to say, opting to go along with what the others wanted.

It was safe to say that now you were in love with your boss. It was true that you initially went with the villainous pair back to the hideout because you wanted something more to your life, but you couldn’t deny your initial attraction to the pale, blue-haired man. He intrigued you, to say the least. But as you learned more about what exactly it was that made him tick, you found yourself falling for the man. You prayed your blush would go unnoticed every time his crimson eyes met yours.

Before you knew it, you had successfully replaced the flat tire with the spare. You made your way back toward the motel, slowly so as not to upset the spare you knew wouldn’t make it over forty. You slowly rolled the car into the decrepit parking lot, careful not to hit too many of the potholes littering the asphalt.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you heard the old receptionist say as you walked in through dusty glass doors. The jingle of a bell caused her to look up at you and away from Shigaraki. She glanced back towards the chatter of voices from the TV behind her, clearly more concerned about the soap opera in the background that she was missing due to her argument with your boss. “We only have the one room.”

Shigaraki turned to see you had made it, a hand pausing its scratching on the back of his neck. Behind you past the dirty glass doors sat your car in the lot. For a moment you thought you saw a flicker of relief in his bright red eyes. Your heart jumped at the thought of him thinking of you. You shoved the fluttering feeling back down and told yourself he was only relieved at your presence as a way to end his argument with the frumpy receptionist.

“Fine,” he sighed as he snatched the plastic key card from the woman. “We’ll take it. Save some money I guess.”

After stumbling awkwardly through the halls, you had finally found your room. It took three tries with the key card before you were actually in your room. It was everything you expected to be, judging from the looks of the exterior of the motel.

Yellowing, floral wallpaper that was as old as your grandparents decorated the room. The ceiling boasted a popcorn texture that you were sure contained enough asbestos to send the entirety of the League to the hospital. The carpet was a cream color, dingy with age and rough on your feet. There was a small ensuite, which you were thankful for, from which you could hear the gentle dripping off the shower. Against one wall was a TV that had to have been from the late 90s, high technology of its time now bought at a discount rate to furnish a sketchy motel. Perhaps the worst part of the setup was right across from the TV: a single bed in the middle of the room.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

“Maybe there’s a pull-out? I’ve seen something like it on American TV,” you suggested, trying to alleviate the awkwardness that settled into the room.

“Don’t be stupid,” Shigaraki said. He walked towards the bed before flopping on top, shoes still on. The headboard was placed against a long wall, and the floral bedding looked as scratchy as your partner sounded. He dug through the bedside table, searching for a remote to the television.

You took your shoes off by the door before slipping your stockinged feet into the complementary slippers. They were once a soft yet vibrant pink, but now they boasted a dirty, pale gray with a hint of their former pink glory. You padded your way to the bed and sat stiffly on the edge of the bed as Shigaraki occupied the majority of the space on the bed. He looked bored, irritated even as he lazily searched the TV. After a few seconds, which felt like eternity to you, you stood and walked over to the bathroom.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you said, standing in front of the en suite while Shigaraki flipped through the few channels on the cable television. You stood for a moment, waiting to be acknowledged by the man.

“Well?” he said, eyes still glued to the faint blue glow of the screen. “Why are you just standing there? Go take a shower.”

“I just wanted to see if you wanted to go first or needed anything before I start,” you said, before turning to the bathroom and gently closing the door behind you.

You slipped on the rubber shower slippers, praying you wouldn’t get athlete’s foot or worse. On the near end of the bathroom, old towels rested on a shelf above the toilet. Across was the shower. After a moment of fiddling with the knobs, you managed to turn on the shower. The pressure was better than you had expected, and you thanked the heavens that you didn’t have to wait long for the hot spray. A hot shower was just what you needed to wash away your anxieties.

When you finished, you stepped out of the bathroom and slipped back into the sad pink slippers. Shigaraki was on the bed with a pizza.

“Figured you’d get hungry,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and helping himself to another slice.

You sat back down on the bed, staying in the corner you previously occupied before your shower.

“Thank you,” you said. You were thankful for the dull orangey lighting that hid your blush from Shigaraki’s scrutinizing red gaze.

The two of you ate in silence, watching whatever American drama Shigaraki had found. After a few hours, your exhaustion had caught up with you. Your yawning hadn’t gone unnoticed by Shigaraki.

“We should go to sleep now.” Shigaraki swung his lanky body off the bed to go turn off the lights.

“I could sleep on the floor, if you want,” you offered.

“No, it’s fine,” Shigaraki huffed. He clambered back onto the bed and refused to look at you as he pulled the blankets over him. “Just stay on your side.”

“Okay,” you sighed. “Goodnight, Shigaraki.”

“Goodnight,” came the rough reply you weren’t expecting.

Despite your heart pounding in your chest, loud enough that you swore Shigaraki could hear it as well, you drifted off with a smile on your face.

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Shigaraki never had a normal sleeping schedule. He was used to waking up at odd hours in the early morning while everyone else was asleep.

With a slight groan, Shigaraki stretched and turned to look at the cheap alarm clock on the bedside table on the other side of you. Electric red numbers stared back at his crimson eyes, reading 2:31. He looked at your dozing frame beside him, curled into the corner of the single bed in order to give him space. Slowly, so as not to disturb you, he slipped out of the bed. He was thankful for the rough carpet and not cold hard flooring as he padded his way to the cramped bathroom.

“Shit,” he whispered as he flicked on the lights. The buzzing of the fan echoed throughout the motel room. Shigaraki glanced over to your sleeping form to make sure he hadn’t disrupted you. Everything always seems too loud at two in the morning. But since you were asleep and he was trying to be quiet, everything felt truly too loud: the soft hum of the fluorescent bathroom lights, the irritating fan, the flushing of the toilet, the padding of his feet back across the dirty carpet, and the creak of the bed as he crawled back in beside you.

Shigaraki lay awake for some time, studying patterns in the horrendous popcorn ceiling like a child looking for shapes in the clouds. You lay fast asleep beside him. As Shigaraki listened to your gentle sleeping, he thought about what you meant to him. You had a valuable quirk for sure, and he was thankful for Kurogiri tipping him off about you. The truth was that he already knew of you. His eyes had been locked on you since the moment you walked into the bar, and when you went with him so willingly that fateful day, he thought he would melt on the spot.

Of course, Shigaraki had an image to uphold. He would die before admitting he had feelings for you. When you mentioned getting a motel, he couldn’t believe his luck. When there was only one room left, he thought he had to be in a dream. His fumbling with the key card was from his nervousness about sharing a room with you. He felt like a teenage boy trying and failing to impress you. His heart nearly leapt out of his throat when he saw the single bed in the motel room. When you stepped out of the bathroom wringing your hair out in a towel, head cocked adorably to the side, he thought he really had died earlier and gone to heaven, despite his actions on earth.

Shigaraki was terrified that you wouldn’t return his feelings. He was repulsive in his eyes. Who would want him with his scratchy voice, too high for a man in his opinion? His shaggy pale hair, rampant with dandruff? And his dry, flaking skin, that every lotion on earth never seemed to help? Looks aside, Shigaraki couldn’t take you out on dates. He couldn’t give you what you deserved. He couldn’t even hold your hand without risking your life. Shigaraki groaned as he dropped his face in his hands. Dabi would surely laugh at him if he could see him now.

A slight shaking of the bed broke him out of his thoughts. He turned to look at you as you continued to shiver. Shigaraki felt his heart swell as he took in your sleeping form. You were too good for him, having curled yourself onto the far side of the bed to give him enough room. You pushed the blankets off of yourself to keep him comfortable and warm.

Before he realized what he was doing, Shigaraki scooted himself closer to you. He pulled the blanket across him to cover your shivering form. It wasn’t until he had seen you relax that he was able to fall back into a dreamless sleep.

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The sun peeking through the gap in the curtains woke you up. The clock in front of you said it was only just past 7 A.M.

You hummed and tried to turn on your back, hoping to stretch your limbs, but something solid kept you from moving. You slowly opened your eyes, as though what you were hoping for would disappear if you opened them too quickly. It seemed too good to be true.

Curled into your back was the very object of your affections. His face was burrowed into his hair, and an arm was wrapped carefully around your waist. Even in sleep, he was careful not to touch you with all five fingers, instead curling his hand into a fist and tucking it underneath your bodies.

Gingerly, you tried to shift to relax your tensed muscles without disturbing Shigaraki.

“Stay,” you heard who was undeniably the man you were trying not to wake whisper. He nuzzled deeper into your hair and pressed his arm tighter against you.

“Okay,” you breathed, and relaxed against Shigaraki, a soft smile crossing your face, and fell back into a sweet sleep.

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[orphaned-kiirokero]

Outro: Love Is Not Over (1)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids, 

Warnings: Don’t know if this counts but mentions of accidental pregnancies and shitty men. 

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next

“Congratulations! It’s a boy.” 

“I-Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s very healthy. Do you have a name in mind?”

“Yunho.”

“A very nice name.”

“Oh, he’s beautiful.”

“That he is. I apologize for asking, but you haven’t listed the father on his birth certificate yet.”

“I’m aware.”

“Are you going to?”

“No.”

“You’re aware what that means, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, Ms. L/n, I’ll leave you be now. Press the button if you need assistance. A midwife will be coming to see you shortly.”

      “Eomma, wake up!” A giggly voice called. The bed was bouncing up and down, pulling me out of my slumber. I couldn’t help but laugh along. “All right, Yunnie, I’m up.” Yunho chuckled and lent down to give me my morning hug. “Good morning, Eomma.” He sighed, his fluffy blonde tail wagging in content. “Good morning, lovely. Did you sleep well?” I wrapped my arms around him, bringing him in for a snuggle. “Yes! I had a dream about giant squirrels!” He exclaimed. I let out an exaggerated gasp, “You did?! That’s awesome.” 

      Yunho wiggled out of my grasp and bounded towards my bedroom door. “Come on, Eomma! I’m hungry.” I chuckled and got out of bed. “Alright, waffles or toast?” I asked while I grabbed my sweatshirt, pulling it on. “Waffles!” Yunho answered, racing downstairs to the living room. I smiled to myself, I couldn’t help the warmth in my heart every time I saw my son. 

     Yunho had short hair that matched mine in color. He also had my eyes. I could see little pieces of myself in his face and it always made me smile. I didn’t pay attention to the features he and his father shared, even if they weren’t many. The most prominent feature they shared being his ears and tail, but somehow, Yunho made them uniquely his. 

      He never like getting his fur cut, would always sulk about it afterwards, he likes to keep the fur on his tail long so either him or I could braid it. He thought braids were so pretty, so he would ask me to braid all of his hair, and eventually, he learned himself. His fur on his ears was less long because of my insistence that having heavy ears would impair his ability to lift them. He could lift his left ear, but not the right one. He’s been working on that. 

      So, even if he was his father's child, he was still just Yunho to me. That man didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that Yunho has his button nose or freckles. It didn’t matter because Yunho was Yunho, and Yunho was the light of my life. He would run around the house non stop, bring me little rocks he found in the yard, draw pictures that had a special place on the fridge. Yunho was sunshine incarnate, and I couldn’t ask for a better son. 

      Downstairs, Yunho was sitting in front of the T.V, watching his favorite cartoon. It was about this hybrid boy and his best friend, who was human. Yunho said it was like him and I, that we were like the characters on screen, going on adventures every day. The sight made me smile yet again, and I went to the kitchen to get started on breakfast.  

     I could see Yunho from the kitchen since it was an open plan. Which wasn’t surprising because we lived in a small house. 2 bedrooms, 1 and 1/2 baths. It had a very large backyard that merged into woods. The area is pleasant, a little secluded, but that just gave Yunho more room to explore. The house got a lot of natural light with the large windows, and the air was always refreshing. 

      When I first saw the house, it was like a blessing. It was a little run down, but nothing I couldn’t handle, and it was cheap. A house being cheap should be a red flag, and it was, but it was worth it. The worst problem the house had was the hot water that ran out pretty quickly. In no way was it a luxurious mansion, but it was home, and that was all that mattered. 

     “Yunho! Come get your breakfast!” I called, placing his bright blue plate on the small dining room table we had. I heard his feet patter on the hardwood as he ran to the dining room. “Woah! Slow down, bub.” I chuckled. Yunho gave me a shy smile and sat down, immediately digging into his breakfast. “Is it good?” I teased, wiping away some stray syrup that threatened to end up in his hair. Yunho nodded enthusiastically, giving me a thumbs up. 

      We ate together with comfortable banter. Yunho was telling me about the latest episode of his cartoon, and I was more than happy to listen. The way his eyes lit up whenever he talked about something he loved was enough to make the toughest of men smile. “Eomma, can Hajun come over today?” Yunho asked in a hopeful tone. I thought about it for a bit, “I’ll call Aunt Hyejin and see if he can, okay?” Yunho brightened up and gave a little “okay!” In response.

     After we were done eating, Yunho put his plate in the sink and went back to watching T.V. I washed up the dishes and dialed Hyejin’s number. “Hey babe!” She answered in her usual cheery voice. I chuckled, “Hey sis.” 

      In reality, Hyejin wasn’t my sis or babe, but we were close like that. Hyejin was a Siamese cat hybrid that I met back in college. We were roommates, and we just clicked immediately. We were there with each other through everything. Shitty professors, family issues, breakups, shit men that make your life a living hell. She had her son, Hajun, a bit before I had Yunho, and helped me whenever I needed. 

      She and her husband, Yoongi, a Persian cat hybrid, were there with me through it all. They were the family I never had. Yoongi was like an overprotective older brother, and Hyejin was no different. They even helped me find Yunho and I’s home. We normally went on family trips to amusement parks or aquariums which the boys never seemed to get bored with. We were all one big happy family. 

     Yoongi and Hyejin were like polar opposites. Yoongi was chill while Hyejin was a bundle of never ending energy. Yoongi was quiet Hyejin loved to talk. Yoongi was an introvert, and Hyejin constantly dragged him out to parties that Namjoon, one of our mutual friends, had mentioned to her. It was funny to witness. Especially when Yoongi begged me to go in his stead, which worked 50% of the time.

      “So, what d’ya need? I’m all ears.” She snickered, and I could practically see her gray ears twitch. “Haha, hilarious. Yunnie wants to know if you guys can come over.” I answered. “Yeah, sure! We’re not doing anything today and I’ve been dying to talk to you about something.” She gushed. “Ooo, exciting.” I chuckled. “I’ll see you soon, babes. Love you!” I said I loved her back and hung up the phone. 

     Soon, Hyejin and Hajun arrived and the boys immediately began playing together. “Hey! So nice to see you!” Hyejin smiled, giving me a hug. “You too!” I was equally just as happy to see Hyejin since she and Yoongi had been a bit busy lately. We walked over to the living room where the boys were playing on the floor with their toys. Hyejin and I sat on the sofa and she immediately began talking. 

      “Okay! So, I’ve been dying to talk to you about this,” She started, already bouncing in her seat. “I can see that.” I teased, poking at her shoulder. “You know the job I was looking into? The daycare one?” She asked, and I nodded. “Well~ I got the job!” She exclaimed. My jaw dropped, a smile made its way onto my face. “No way! Congratulations!” I got up and squeezed her in a bone breaking hug, which she reciprocated. 

     “I know! I’m so excited!” Her tail was flicking behind her. “So, when do you start?” I asked, moving back into my seat. “Next week! I’m going to be the second teacher, helping someone named Mr. Jung.” She explained, and she went on to tell me how she got the job and how Hajun had asked if he could go, only to pout when Hyejin told him that he was too old. “I’m happy for you, Hyejin.” I smiled, excited that she was pursuing her dream of working with kids. 

      Hyejin, like me, got pregnant young and unexpectedly. But she was super thrilled. She didn’t care if she was only 20, she always wanted a child. She wasn’t married at that time, but Yoongi stepped up pretty quickly to raise Hajun with Hyejin. Yoongi was a cool dad, pretty laid back. Usually snuck the kids out to go get ice cream or pizza. Not that Hyejin or I minded, he treated both boys with the utmost care. He treated Yunho like his own son. 

      “So, have you met this Mr. Jung?” I wondered. “Not yet, but I had a phone call with him. Guess what? He’s our age.” She whispered, like what she was saying was some big secret. “Hyejin, we’re both 26, it’s not like a young teacher is unheard of.” I pointed out. “I know! But... What if he’s cute~?” She raised her eyebrows in a teasing manner, leaning closer to me. “I could be cupid.” She winked and I rolled my eyes. 

      “No thanks, Hyejin. I appreciate it, but love for me ended a long time ago.” I sighed and Hyejin huffed, dramatically slouching in her seat. “Y/n, just because... he... broke your heart doesn’t mean you should give up entirely.” She pointed out, looking at me with eyes full of undecipherable emotions. “Any man I date would have to be okay with being a father-like figure to Yunho. I’m 26 Hyejin, no guy my age wants kids yet.” I monotoned. 

      I had come to terms with the fact that most men didn’t want to date someone who already had a child. Not saying that it didn’t dishearten me a bit, but it was a revelation I made early on. If someone wanted me, they were going to want Yunho too. It either both of us, or neither of us. 

Yunho was my light, and he deserved a father that could be the things I couldn’t.

[drabbles-mc]

Pretty Boy

Juice Ortiz x OFC (Dakota Lowman)

Combining an Anonymous request and a request from @adela-topaz-caelon:  Juice Ortiz x F!Reader, were the reader is Happy’s daughter and her boyfriend is Juice? and Juice x female reader where they're at the clubhouse or somewhere, just chilling to keep reader safe or something, and you get those cheesy moments of catching an eye, or an absentmindedly kiss that causes flusteredness

Warnings: language, alcohol, Juice being a lil cutie pie

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: I tweaked each of these requests a little bit, but I hope y’all still enjoy it! I got the Happy’s Daughter request and immediately me and @garbinge started brainstorming OC ideas and we ended up with two daughters for Happy. Clearly we get carried away haha. This is just a fluffy little one-shot and a sort of wamrup/intro to the Lowman Sisters as OCs. We (when I say “we”, I totally mean me and Anj as a unit lmao) have big plans for them in the future and I can’t wait to take y’all along for the ride. In the meantime, enjoy this lil oneshot! xo

SOA Taglist: @masterlistforimagines​ @mijop​ @chibsytelford​ @xladymacbethx​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @kkim120​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @toni9​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @mayans-sauce​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @punkgoddess-98​ @paintballkid711​ @black-repunzel99​ @jitterbugs927​ @mrsstevenbuchananstark​ (If you want to be added to the list feel free to let me know!)

“Out of all the women in the universe,” Juice spoke up with a shake of his head, “I think the last two that need someone to watch their backs are Happy’s daughters, that’s all.”

Jax shook his head, “Everyone has someone watching their back, no exceptions.”

“Yea but they don’t need—”

He cut Juice off, “Club call, not theirs.”

Both of Happy’s daughters were sitting back, watching the entire interaction play out in front of them. It wasn’t something that they’d never gone through before, but they each knew that there was a more tactful way to go about it without making them feel like they were being saddled with babysitters. His youngest thought it was all bullshit, but she wasn’t willing to put up a fight over it. Her older sister, however, didn’t have the same reservations.

“Fuck this,” she stood up off her barstool, “You don’t get to make that call for me, Teller.”

“Hap said—”

“Well Hap isn’t here,” she rolled her eyes as she swiped her keys off the table, “Tell my old man if he wants someone to babysit me, he can do it himself,” she began walking towards the clubhouse door, “just like the good old days.”

“Diedra,” Jax stepped towards her, wrapping his hand around her forearm.

She immediately twisted her arm out of his grasp and used her other hand to shove him backwards, “Do that again and I’ll bust your fucking nose,” she waited a beat to see if any of them were going to try to stop her again, and when they didn’t, she looked over to her sister, “Call me if any of these assholes give you any trouble, alright?”

She nodded, “Alright.”

The clubhouse door slammed behind her, leaving an awkward silence in its wake. Jax glanced over at Juice, who was trying to look anywhere but at his VP and the young woman still perched at the bar. With a heavy sigh, Jax spoke up, “Don’t go two for two on losing the Lowman Sisters, alright? Hap is gonna wring my fucking neck over Di as it is.”

“He won’t,” she shook her head, chuckling slightly, “You think our dad doesn’t know what you’re dealing with?”

“You think that your dad is really gonna care about that when it comes down to it?” Jax retorted. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to get his tone in order, “Sorry, Kota. It’s not on you. Just, please stay with Juice, alright? Just until we figure all this shit out.”

She nodded, taking a sip of her coffee and trying to pretend that she didn’t get a little bit of sadistic enjoyment out of Jax’s stress over her father and sister, “Sure, I can handle that.”

He didn’t say anything more before also heading out the door, managing to shut it a little quieter than the woman who had walked out before him. It left just Juice and Dakota by themselves in the clubhouse—everyone else either on club business or safely within the walls of their own homes waiting out the impending chaos.

“How pissed is your dad gonna be about your sister?” Juice asked, a smirk starting to curl the edges of his mouth.

Dakota laughed, shaking her head, “He’s not going to actually be pissed. He knows how Di gets about lockdown and shit,” she paused, smiling, “But he is going to make Jax feel like shit about it first.”

Juice chuckled, “Perfect.”

There were a few beats of silence before she spoke up again, “So do I get to know why I need a bodyguard or…?”

“H-happy didn’t tell you?”

She shook her head, “No,” with a huff she rolled her eyes, “he never tells me shit. I don’t, I don’t know why Di gets to know everything and I don’t. I don’t get what’s so different.”

“She is older,” Juice couldn’t pretend to understand the dynamics in the Lowman family but it seemed like an easy justification to offer up.

“By like, four years. That doesn’t mean shit.”

Juice laughed, “You sound a little bitter.”

“Bitter is in our blood, Juan,” she laughed as she finished off her coffee.

The use of his real name caught him off-guard. The two of them hadn’t ever really talked much, just little conversations here and there. He didn’t think that she knew his real name at all, let alone felt comfortable enough with him to use it. Despite the bite in her tone for every other word she spoke, there was a softness when she said it.

“Right,” he tried to keep himself focused, “Well, your sister seems like a girl full of answers so maybe you should ask her about it.”

“Glad I’m at least going to be locked down with a comedian,” she shook her head before getting up and tossing her coffee cup in the garbage, “So, what? You just gonna follow me around while I do things? Keep me company while I get a pedicure?”

He laughed, “I don’t think that you should really be out getting pedicures right now.”

“Well, then could you at least take me back to my place?” she laughed, “Di and I came together and she just stormed off with the keys.”

Juice couldn’t help the laughter that slipped past his lips, “Yea, yea I think I can handle that.”

As the two of them walked across the lot towards Juice’s bike, Dakota became very aware of the fact that the two of them hadn’t ever spent any one-on-one time together. They saw each other in passing at the clubhouse, and a couple times he’d worked on her car in the past, but they didn’t really know each other. She knew of him, the same way he probably knew of her. But they didn’t learn anything about each other, from each other.

In the past when she and her sister needed someone to watch their back because of things going on with the club, it would usually just be Happy, because that made the most sense. And realistically, Diedra had been right when she said that she could handle herself perfectly fine. If the two of them were left to their own devices they’d probably be okay, but it wasn’t a chance that the MC was willing to take. On a rare occasion or two Chibs or Tig kept an eye on them, but those men usually kept their distance.

Juice handed her a spare helmet, a lopsided grin on his face, “Where is your place, anyway?”

“Apartment complex just off Main?” she said as she clipped the helmet on, “Gray Street.”

He nodded, “Got it.”

She settled onto the bike behind him with ease, no stranger to the ins and outs of a ride. It caught Juice off-guard for a moment before he remembered who she was. He looked down to see her well-manicured nails interlocked over his stomach and he didn’t know why but it made him smile. She leaned against him a little, waiting for him to peel out of the compound. He checked with her to make sure she was good before taking off.

As he rolled into the parking lot of the complex, Dakota directed him where to go and park. Diedra’s car was nowhere to be seen. And while it had been made abundantly clear that she was in charge of herself, Juice still felt a little responsible for how everything had played out.

“You two live here together, right?” he asked as he put down the kickstand of his bike.

“Yea,” she unclipped her helmet and tousled her hair, “but she’s probably blowing off steam somewhere. Maybe tracking down our dad,” she laughed.

“Was it weird growing up with Happy as a dad?” the question came out before he could stop it, and regret instantly flooded over his features, “Fuck, sorry. I, I know it’s really not my business.”

She chuckled as she dug her keys out of her purse, “You’re fine. Don’t apologize so much.”

“Sor—” he stopped himself, “Right.”

“But in answer to your question,” they slowly made their way up the stairs to the second floor of the apartment building, “He…he tried. He does the best he can, you know? I think all our parents do,” she put the key in the lock of her door, “Doesn’t mean that their best is always good enough, but it’s all they can do.”

She was about to step inside when Juice put an arm out in front of her to stop her. She chuckled, nodding for him to go in first and scope the place out, even though it was highly unlikely that anyone ended up there looking for her or her sister.

About a minute later she heard Juice’s voice calling for her to come inside. She laughed as she stepped in, locking the door behind her before tossing her purse off to the side and instantly kicking off her shoes. Juice watched her, and as she sauntered her way into the kitchen he really began to question how the two of them never ended up really speaking to each other. He and Diedra had had a handful of conversations, although they weren’t deep or filled with a lot of pleasantries. But he felt like he had a better idea of who she was, than who her little sister was. She was always kind unless provoked, but she kept to herself a lot of the time.

“Smoothie?” she offered as she pulled a half-full blender out of the fridge.

Juice laughed in surprise. Usually when he was at someone’s house they offered beer, or something stronger. He’d never even been offered water before let alone a smoothie. He shook his head, “I’m good for now, thanks.”

She shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

By the time Diedra came back to the apartment, the sun had long since set. Dakota and Juice were camped out at the counter, both of them laughing hard at whatever story Juice had been telling. They heard the sound of the key in the lock and both of them looked over at the door expectantly. Diedra walked inside, kicking off her boots and tossing her keys immediately. She’d seen Juice’s bike parked outside and wasn’t enthused, and when she could hear their laughter from the hallway, she had the feeling that he wasn’t going to be in a rush to get back to the clubhouse or go home.

She looked about as exhausted and frustrated as she felt. She’d gone and tracked down her father, which did nothing to help the current situation. On top of him being upset about how she was handling the whole protection side of things, he was mad that she had gone out on a manhunt to find him, completely defeating the purpose of having someone keeping her safe.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” she skipped over the pleasantries and got right to the point, “With the two of us here we should be alright.”

“I, uh, I don’t mind,” Juice didn’t know why he found Diedra to be just as intimidating as her father, but he did, “I can hang out a little longer.”

She shrugged, not looking to argue about it, “Suit yourself,” she looked at her sister, “I’m gonna go shower.”

Dakota gave a wordless nod and watched her sister disappear to the other end of the apartment.  She let out a sigh and shook her head—she didn’t know the details of her older sister’s day, but she didn’t have to. Dakota could tell from the moment she walked in that the day hadn’t gone in her favor. She’d try to be there for her if she thought it would get either of them anywhere, but if there was one thing that she’d learned about her sister in all their years growing up together, was that those kinds of things happened on Diedra’s terms, and no one else’s.

“She always this cheery?” Juice asked with tiny smirk, “Or just when I’m around?”

Dakota laughed, shaking her head, “It has nothing to do with you, personally. It’s…complicated. Honestly, she’s gotta like you on some level because she hasn’t threatened you yet. But either way,” she reached and rested her hand on his for a moment, “I’m glad you’re here.”

The touch was light and momentary but Juice felt it course through his entire body. He cleared his throat, trying to do anything besides stare at his hands, “Well that’s…that’s nice to hear.”

“And not that I’m trying to rush you out, but for the sake of your own self-esteem,” there was a playful smile on her face, “you might wanna just head out and come back in the morning. She’ll be a little cooled off by then.”

He nodded, “Yea, yea okay,” he hopped up and they both made their way towards the door, “Lock it behind me.”

She rolled her eyes, “Yea, I’ve done this before.”

He stood in the hallway for a moment as Dakota leaned against the doorframe, a smile beginning to tug at the edges of her mouth. He wanted to reach out and hug her, but he knew better. He shoved his hands into his pockets to fight the urge.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then?” she asked.

He nodded, “I’ll be here bright and early.”

She laughed, “I’ll have coffee ready, then,” she paused, “Goodnight, Juan.”

He smiled, “Goodnight.”

A little while later, when Dakota was already in bed scrolling on her phone, there was a knock on her bedroom door. She turned on the light and called for her sister to come in. When the door opened, Diedra was standing there wrapped in her towel, clothes draped over her arm as she propped herself against the side of the door.

“You all good?”

Dakota propped herself up on her elbows, nodding, “Yea, yea I’m good. You good?”

She shrugged, “I’ll be alright.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Pfft,” her annoyance wasn’t aimed at her sister, “Nothing to say. Same shit,” there was a beat of silence, “Juice stay here with you all day?”

She nodded, “Yea. I know you don’t like him but he seems swe—”

“It’s not that I don’t like him,” she let out a small sigh, “the whole situation is just a fuckin’ mess. Plus you and I are adults—we don’t need fucking babysitters.”

Dakota couldn’t do anything besides nod, “I know. I just, I don’t see the point in fighting it if we’re just gonna lose.”

“You’re only fine with it because they saddled you with the pretty boy,” a knowing smirk crossed Diedra’s face for a moment.

Her little sister laughed, “Certainly doesn’t hurt to have something nice to look at in a pseudo-lockdown.”

“Mhm,” she shook her head, “Just don’t do anything stupid, alright?”

“Never,” she laughed, “Love you.”

“Love you.”

With that she shut the door and made her way off to her own room. Dakota flopped back down onto her pillow with a sigh, trying to get everything in order in her head. All she ever really wanted to do was keep the peace, but it was practically an impossible task at this point so she wondered what the use was in even trying anymore.

True to her word, the next morning there was already a pot of coffee made by the time that Juice got there. Truthfully, she’d just set an alarm specifically for that purpose and then gone right back to bed. That was made evident to him by the fact that she answered the door half-asleep, hair still a bit of a frizzy mess from a night of tossing and turning. She smiled and waved him in but didn’t say much of anything, wordlessly gesturing to the coffee pot to let him know to help himself.

“Not a morning person?” he chuckled.

She shook her head, running her hands down her face, “No, that’s always been Di’s thing. I’m a night owl.”

As if on cue, Diedra came bounding into the apartment, headphones still on and drenched in sweat from her run and workout that morning. She saw Juice standing in the kitchen and offered him a slight nod as she made her way directly to the bathroom to shower. She lightly patted Dakota on the back as she walked by, letting the gesture serve as her greeting for the morning.

“So,” Juice drummed his fingers on the edge of the counter as he watched Dakota pour them each a cup of coffee, “what’s the plan for today?”

She shrugged as she slid it across to him, “You tell me,” she took a sip, “I got some school shit I gotta do, but I can do it here or at the clubhouse if that’s better. I still don’t know what the fuck is going on, so I’m following your lead on this.”

No one had ever said those words in that order to him before. He took a long drink out of his coffee cup to buy himself a few extra seconds to think, “Um, I mean, clubhouse would probably be best. More people around,” his eyes flicked towards the other end of the apartment, “I’m guessing your sister is just gonna…”

“Do whatever she wants to do?” she laughed, nodding, “Sounds about right,” she stretched, taking a deep breath, “Alright. Let me get ready and we can head out.”

“Okay,” he sat down at the counter, “No rush or anything.”

While he was finishing his coffee and waiting for Dakota to get ready, her sister emerged back into the kitchen, no longer in her sweaty workout clothes. She had on a baggy hoodie and a pair of running shorts, hair still down and damp as she opened the fridge to start pulling together her smoothie for the morning.

“Where you two crazy kids off to today?” she asked as she set everything on the counter.

“Just to the clubhouse,” he paused, trying to figure out if she should ask what he was about to ask, “You?”

She glanced back over her shoulder, her expression serious for a moment before she cracked the smallest of smiles, “I’ll be around. Got some shit I gotta handle.”

“Anything I can—”

“All you gotta worry about is my sister and the club, Juice,” her tone was firm, but not mean.

Before he could say anything more, Dakota walked back out into the kitchen. She looked back and forth between her sister and Juice, surprised at the lack of tension in the room. There wasn’t the fear of god in Juice’s eyes the way there had been the night before.

“We’re gonna head out,” she gave Juice a slight nod towards the door before looking back at her sister, “Text me when you get where you’re going?”

She nodded, “Sure thing. Don’t let him wipe out on the bike.”

Dakota laughed as she looked over at Juice, “Well, guess we’re taking the bike.”

Dakota made herself comfortable at one of the tables in the clubhouse. She had her headphones on and her schoolwork spread out across the table in front of her. Between her notebooks and her laptop, there was just enough room for Juice and his computer on the other side of the table. Every now and then she’d look up and catch him staring at her, and she’d offer up a smile before diving back into her work. Juice wanted to ask her about it, wanted just about any reason to listen to her talk, but he stopped himself.

It was late in the afternoon when she finally leaned back in her chair, taking her headphones off with a groan. She ran her hands down her face as she shook her head, trying to get her brain to slow down. Juice looked up at her, chuckling quietly.

“It’s going that well, huh?”

“Go back to school they said. It’ll be good for you they said,” she laughed, rolling her eyes, “Fuck this. I don’t know why I’m paying to suffer.”

Juice couldn’t help but to laugh, “Sorry it’s so rough.”

She shrugged, “It’s fine. I just need to complain about it sometimes,” she smiled at him, “And since you’re the one who is stuck with me, you’re the one who has to hear it. Sorry.”

“You can complain as much as you want,” a smirk tugged at his lips as he drummed his fingers on the table, “I don’t mind.”

That was the routine that they fell into for the next week. Each morning Juice would show up at her apartment, make small-talk with Diedra that got less and less awkward as the days went on, and then they’d head to the clubhouse once Dakota was ready. On the days when Juice was actually working at T-M, Dakota would set herself up at the picnic table outside, or if she was just reading, she would find an empty chair in the garage to sit in so that the two of them would stay close. It wasn’t that they really needed to talk all that much, but the proximity was nice. And, for the time being, they had the cover of the fact that he was supposed to be keeping an eye on her.

In the midst of a sea of fleeting touches and soft smiles, neither of them brought themselves to say anything to address all the feelings that were bubbling up. A few times, Juice almost did. There were moments, after he’d park his bike at the clubhouse or her apartment, and she’d leave her arms wrapped around him a little longer than necessary. She’d keep herself flush against his back despite the fact that she didn’t need to anymore, and he’d almost get the nerve to say something to her. But it never quite happened. He’d see her reading, taking notes on something that was way above his paygrade, and every square inch of his brain would scream at him to tell her that she’s beautiful, but the words always got caught in his throat.

“Guess what,” Diedra strode over to the picnic table where her sister was sitting, laptop set up in front of her for class.

She looked up, eyebrows raised, “What’s up?”

“As of,” she looked at the time on her phone, “One hour and twenty-five minutes ago, we are no longer on fake, need-a-babysitter lockdown.”

Dakota laughed, shaking her head, “I don’t think that you ever really were.”

“Yea, well,” Diedra laughed as she swiped up her sister’s drink and took a sip of it, “now Dad can’t keep giving me shit about it. So that’s a plus,” there were a few beats of silence, “You gonna break the news to pretty boy over there? Or you gonna let the club do it?”

She smiled, shaking her head, “No news to break. Shit will just go back to business as usual.”

“He’s gonna be real fuckin’ bummed about it, you know.”

She arched one eyebrow, “Why does it feel like you’re encouraging this?”

“He seems less shitty than most the other guys you’ve brought around.”

“We’re not even—”

“I know,” Diedra chuckled, “I know you’re not. But he’s chomping at the fuckin’ bit so I’d say something before he thinks that he’s completely lost his shot.”

Dakota’s nails clacked on the surface of the picnic table as she tapped them, clearly thinking about everything her sister had said to her. Diedra walked away, letting her little sister mull over what she had said.

As the afternoon was drawing to a close, the guys all came out of church into the main expanse of the clubhouse. Everyone was whooping and hollering, and it was clear that whatever the issue it was that had arisen, had been taken care of. Everyone else who was already at the clubhouse joined in on the cheering, despite not knowing all of the details.

Diedra and Dakota were camped out at the bar, each of them smiling and shaking their heads because they knew the antics that were about to ensue. The music immediately got louder and the prospect behind the bar skipped over grabbing glasses and just took out a few entire bottles of liquor to set on the counter for the guys to grab.

After a few minutes of the initial chaos, Dakota felt someone’s hand land on her shoulder. She turned around, expecting to see Juice, but instead came face-to-face with her father. She smiled up at him as she took a sip of her beer.

“Glad everything got sorted.”

He nodded, “For now,” there was a pause as he looked her over, “You’re alright?”

She laughed, “Yea, Dad, I’m alright. I’m not the person at the top of the priority list for anyone who is out to get you. And even if I was,” she nodded towards her sister who was now at the other end of the bar in a heated discussion with Tig about something, “between Di and Juan, no one was getting to me.”

His brows furrowed when he heard her refer to him by his real name, “He didn’t do anything fucking stupid, did he?”

She almost choked on her beer, shaking her head, “No, no he didn’t. Jesus Christ, Dad, cut the kid some slack.”

“Alright,” he nodded, pulling her in and placing a chaste kiss to her forehead, “I love you.”

She chuckled, nodding, “I love you too.”

Happy disappeared into the crowd and it was only a few moments before the stool beside her became occupied. She glanced over, a smile spreading across her face when she saw the person she’d been expecting originally.

“Congrats on, well,” she chuckled, “whatever you guys did.”

Juice smiled, shaking his head, “Just keeping ourselves alive and outta jail for another day. That’s all,” he paused as he took the beer bottle being handed to him by the man on the other side of the bar, “Guess you’ll finally be able to go and get your pedicures now.”

She laughed, “Yea I guess so. The invite is still open if you wanna come with me. It’s quite the experience.”

“Tempting,” he leaned onto the bar, letting his elbows rest on it, “But I think I’m good.”

“You know, even if you don’t want to go and get pedicures with me,” she sipped on her beer, “We could find something else to do that we could both enjoy.”

He looked over at her, a tentative smile on his face, “Yea?”

She shrugged, “Yea. Preferably something not early in the morning. I’d love to go back to sleeping in,” she couldn’t help but to laugh.

“You didn’t have to wake up early, you know.”

“Yea, but, I wanted to. I…I like spending time with you.”

That statement hung in the air for a few seconds before she gently nudged his knee with her own. It snapped him out of whatever train of thought he was trapped in, his eyes searching hers waiting to figure out the next move. She smiled, a quiet laugh passing her lips before she leaned in and kissed him, her hand coming to rest on the back of his head.

Shock went through his body for a moment as he forced himself to realize that it was really happening, that it wasn’t just a dream. His hand lightly gripped onto her thigh as he let himself lean into her. When she pulled her lips off of his, they each laughed, the sound of it soft against the raucous noise of the clubhouse.

“I’m free tomorrow,” Juice forced out through the surprise coursing through his system, “If…if you wanted to do something.”

Dakota laughed, leaning back onto her seat but letting her hand tangle up with his, “Yea, I could do something tomorrow.”

“Afternoon?” he said with a laugh.

“Yea,” she laughed and gave his hand a squeeze, “Tomorrow afternoon is good.”

[fruitcoops]

Hi! If u have any time, I would love to read some fluffy Coops hurt/comfort! Maybe Remus having a nightmare about Greyback?

I can, yes! For those of you wondering why I didn’t continue the Greyback audio series despite a couple different asks: someone kept coming into my inbox and bothering me about progress, and I got tired of it. I write for fun, and if the story isn’t flowing I generally work on something else for a bit until inspiration strikes. Constantly asking (like, three times a day) about a fic will not get it out faster.

Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for nightmares, past injury, and self-deprecating dream talk (briefly)

Greyback was out of the league, and rumors had begun to fly about a possible court case. Remus had received hundreds of texts, emails, and DMs from people expressing their condolences—his old teammates had contacted him more in the past 48 hours than they had in literal years.

And he was so unbelievably tired.

Hattie rumbled against his front and Sirius was solid and warm behind him, curved in a protective parenthesis against the endless unanswered messages. Upon Remus’ request, he had taken his phone and put it on the top shelf of the laundry room cupboards; anyone who wanted to talk to Remus would go through Sirius, first. He couldn’t think of anyone that mattered who didn’t have Sirius’ phone number.

“Are you still awake?” Sirius murmured against the nape of his neck. Remus nodded silently. “Do you want to take some melatonin?”

“It’s alright.”

Sirius shifted and pulled the blankets further onto their shoulders; Hattie wiggled up until her face was out of the sheets, then sighed heavily. “Do you want to talk?”

Remus shrugged, suddenly feeling shaky and untethered. He had only caught a passing glance of Greyback at the conference, staring him down across the lobby until his handlers took him away and left Remus alone with the media. The look in his eyes was almost murderous. “Just don’t let go.”

The arm around his waist tightened and he closed his eyes, matching his breaths with Sirius’ until his world narrowed to the heartbeat against his shoulder and Hattie’s fur in his hand. No aching feet, no pounding head, no verge-of-tears clog in his throat—just Sirius, just Hattie, just them in their bed and the whole world locked outside.

“We’re going to be okay, right?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Sirius moved and a small pocket of cold lodged behind Remus’ knees. “Re, I knew what happened before the story came out.”

“But know there’s…”He waved a hand in the air. “People. Cameras. So many people trying to contact me all the time, and I’m tired. I haven’t really been here for you.”

“Remus.” Sirius tugged on his shoulder until he rolled onto his back, but kept their sides pressed together. “You don’t have to be here for me right now. It’s my job to be there for you while this is going on. Besides, I’m used to dealing with media and nosy people.”

Remus exhaled slowly. “Thank you for taking my phone.”

“You asked me to do it.”

“Still. You could’ve said no.”

“You have enough on your plate already, mon loup.” Sirius trailed his fingers lightly through Remus’ hair and he closed his eyes. “Sleep. I know you didn’t last night.”

“I slept a little bit.”

“Yeah, for about two hours.” A gentle kiss pressed against his cheek. “Sleep.”

He took a deep breath and tried to relax, letting the tension drain from his muscles and allowing the tsunami of exhaustion to wash through in its place. His brain still ran at a million miles per hour and he could feel the beginnings of yet another headache—though who was he kidding, the last week had been a constant headache—but he focused on his heartbeat and breathed in the familiar scent of their bedroom.

Remus felt himself slipping, and suddenly all he smelled was sweat. Sweat and fear and the spongy plastic of the mats sticking to his cheek. He couldn’t feel any pain, but the terror of someone’s hands on his body bolted all the way to his core. Pressure on his thighs as the person’s knees pinned him down; pressure on his back and a palm by his shoulder blade; pressure, so much pressure, on one joint until it gave out and Remus was falling.

He was cold, colder than any ice bath, and gasping for air.

He won’t love you. He never did. Nobody will ever be able to tether you for long. He’ll get tired of trying.

“Please,” Remus begged as the roaring wave came up behind him. A blurry face appeared ahead, with cold eyes and a razor-sharp smile. “No, no—”

Fenrir wouldn’t let go. He was trapped like a fish in a net, struggling and fighting against the harsh grip until his eyes flew open and someone was talking right next to his ear and it was too much too much too much—

“No!” His elbow slammed into something soft and the warmth across his chest disappeared. “Get off me!”

Bedroom. He was in a bed, in a bedroom. In his bedroom. It smelled like lavender and laundry detergent. Hattie was on the floor, carefully sniffing his hand and watching him with huge gray eyes as he pulled his knees to his chest and waited for the last of the nightmare to tremble through him.

A hand brushed against his arm and he flinched, teeth chattering despite the warm room. “Don’t touch me.”

“Okay.” The mattress dipped as Sirius sat up and crossed his legs, sitting patiently and rubbing one rib.

Remus’ mouth went dry. “Did I hit you?”

“Just your elbow.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. I hit you.”

“Do you want to take a look?” Sirius asked, his voice soft. Remus blinked rapidly and shifted to face him; he lifted the edge of his sleep shirt and gestured to his ribs. “See? No marks. You didn’t hurt me, just surprised me.”

“Part of me wishes they never found that video,” Remus said. The words tumbled from his lips—he had been choking them down for days now, but he was too tired to hold them in anymore. “I wish nobody ever knew except you and me and him.”

Sirius hummed. “That’s fair.”

“It’s stupid. He deserves what he’s getting.”

“He does.”

Frustration bubbled in his chest. “Then—then I have to choose one, right? He deserves what he’s getting and I deserve to move on and his name should be dragged through the mud, but I just want people to leave me the fuck alone.”

His shoulders folded in and he pressed his forehead to his knees; there were no tears left, but that didn’t stop the shivering that made his stomach hurt. “Can I touch you?” Sirius asked after a moment.

“Yeah.” Remus leaned into him, laying both his legs over one of Sirius’ and curling up like a barnacle against his side. “Sorry for dumping all this on you.”

“Re, this isn’t dumping stuff on me. This is communicating how you feel, and Heather says that’s a good thing.”

“Heather isn’t here.”

“When’s your next appointment?”

“Monday.”

Sirius gave him a squeeze. “I’m not a therapist, but I can hug you until Monday if you want.”

Remus laughed a little—there wasn’t much humor in it, but at least it was there. “That sounds pretty nice, actually. I’m going to take a shower and then make some tea.”

“It’s a mint with honey kind of day?”

“Yeah.”

Forty minutes later, when Remus was mostly dry and bundled in his most comfortable sick-day clothes, he went downstairs and found a steaming mug of mint tea with honey waiting on the coffee table. Sirius smiled and patted the couch as the opening credits of Avatar began. It felt…well, it felt almost normal.