#i could use a soft fix it fic rn

[soul-wanderer]

Will "how dare you want some privacy in terms of your private life when it comes to your work"

Will "I don't care about your wish for privacy and will tell your entire team that you are pregnant"

Will "I am going to propose to you in front of your team so you can't say no, because I know you were unsure if you wanted to get married in the first place"

Will "I am going to accuse and guilt trip you for being passionate about your job, something I have known since day one, but goodness forbid a woman wants to be more than a mother"

JJ "you are my husband, but you are not the one I cry for when I need to be saved"

but also

JJ "you are my husband, but you are not the one I confide in when I am at my worst"

[cvpidzcvrse]

𝔐𝔦𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔖𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔰

MDNI, pretty pls with a cherry on top

✫A/N: I’m rlly just pushing these fics out my pussy with no hesitation. talking abt pussy if u have one ur gonna love this one. this on is kinda shorter than my other ones but as always, enjoy this one loves!

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Synopsis: You were ovulating and you wanted dick, bad. But it’s almost 2 in the morning and your boyfriend is asleep, so what are you gonna do! You didn’t want to wake him up just for dick, or did you

⋆.ೃ࿔*･wc: 1,673

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Warnings: degradation, masturbation, praise, backshots, slight somno, riding, free use, oral masc!receiving, squirting, gentle, soft mdom, finishing inside (practice safe sex)

(the reader is black)

During ovulation, most women turn into sex-addicted monsters or cock sluts. You’re leaning more towards cock slut. It was 1:30 am on a Tuesday night and your vibrator has become your best friend. You were currently assaulting your clit with your vibrator, going on orgasm number 3. The vibrator wasn’t enough though, you needed him. You let out a quiet moan before reaching your now third orgasm. You feel so pitiful, in the bathroom with the door locked, and sitting on the sink watching your pink bullet vibrator go crazy on your clit. You let out a sigh before cleaning up the mirror where juices flew. 

“Fuck, this sucks..”

You mumbled, fixing your bonnet and then sitting on the sink. You get your phone and start texting your friends. 

1:45 AM

(♡): “I’m so horny rn and nothing is working”

Sashaluv: “I know you are not telling us about your pussy problems at 1 am :/”

Mikamika: “Have you thought abt going to bed and not telling us abt it??”

You chuckle at Mikasa’s response before sighing and leaving the bathroom. You walk to your room and throw your phone somewhere in the room, not paying attention to where it went or what was open. 

You notice your semi-muscular and very shirtless boyfriend sleeping on your bed. Your clit is basically screaming for him, there’s no way you're turned on just by looking at this gorgeous man. His hair was down, messily framing his face, his toned chest moving every time he took a breath, and the hem of his pajama pants hanging low. You wish you could just pounce on him right now and grind your hungry pussy on his dick. Your hand travels down to the hem of your Pajama shorts. You fiddle with the edge of your underwear before finally reaching down and drawing small circles on your clit. 

“F-fuck…”

You use your other hand to cover your mouth as you trace the outline of your lips before finally putting 2 fingers in. You let out a shaky moan, and the grip on your mouth tightens as your speed increases. Eren’s facial features are even more beautiful now than ever, the moonlight is hitting his body just right. You can see every muscle, hair, and tattoo. Is this how he feels whenever fucking you? If so you now know why you guys fuck like rabid animals. Your vision gets cloudy as you soak your hands in your sweet juices. 

“I can’t take it anymore…I need him”

You huff before walking to the bed and climbing on top of him. He groans a bit at the sudden shift in weight before falling back into a daze. You start grinding on his cock slowly, your head dips back in pleasure. 

“Mama…”

Eren utters a breathy moan before rubbing his eyes. You’re lustful brown eyes meet his tired green ones, the way he looks at you drives you even more insane. 

“I hope I’m not dreaming, and my pretty girl is grinding her wet pussy on me…fuck”

He groans before putting his hands on your hips and making you grind harder. You bit your lip tightly, trying to keep a moan in your mouth. You feel his cock twitch inside his pants, you grind harder in response.

“You couldn’t sleep so you took matters into your own hands? Fuck…keep going.”

The bed creaks slightly every time you thrust your hips. Moans flooding out of your mouth like a pornstar. The way you and Eren fuck all the time you’re surprised your neighbors don’t think you are one.

“I can’t let you sleep like this mama, you wanna get fucked until you cum baby?”

You nod again, almost making it to orgasm number 5 of the night before he stops you. His long big hands bring your hips to a halt. You whimpered and looked down at his now lustful emerald eyes. 

“It’s never that straightforward baby and you know that. I’ll let you use me to your heart's content, but you’re not done until I say so.”

You nod in agreement and start untying his pajama pants before he grabs your wrist to stop you. 

 “You have to clean up after yourself afterward, I don’t want my pretty slut riding a messy cock.” 

His fuckboy smirk enveloped his handsome features. God…you hated that smirk, it only means he has something up his sleeves. But it gets your pussy wet every time, you're soaking through your shorts during this hot and heavy interaction.

“Fine, but just let me use you. Please.”

You gave him the best ‘give me dick.’ look you could muster, and it worked. He groaned softly before nodding. You quickly untie his pajama pants and pull them down. You take off your shorts and pushing your panties to the side. 

You grab the base of his cock and adjust yourself before sliding him into your cunt. You both let out deafening moans, you slowly grind on him still trying to adjust to his size.

"Good girl, show me how much you love my cock."

You slowly start bouncing on his cock. Eren admires the way your tits jump every time you bounce on his wood.

“Fuck…you’re so big…”

Eren grins before muttering curses under his breath. He grabs your love handles, forcing you to keep a slow and steady pace. You groaned at Eren’s stubbornness to let you do what you want. 

"I know mama, I know. Just do this f'me ok?"

You melted at his sweet words and his silky voice. Eren is the type of man to make you cum with the snap of his fingers. He’s fine, funny, a sweet talker, and has a big dick. What’s not to love? You got brought out of your own mind when Eren started tracing circles around your clit. 

“M-my clit…it’s sensitive! E-Eren, please.” 

He shakes his head, chuckling at your sudden change in character. 

“You were just begging for my cock, what happened? Did the cock slut finally have too much cock?” 

His pink lips gave you a fake pout to add to the condescending tone of his voice. Eren thrust his hips into you, leaving tiny kisses on your cervix every time. Your hands run down his chest and to his abs, feeling every muscle and vein on his torso. Eren feels you clench around him, causing a breathy moan to leave his mouth. 

“Ma, fuck…you can take it come on, cum on my cock.” 

You cry out as your juices cover his cock, Eren is hypnotized watching his cock slide in and out of you. He grunts before sliding you off of his cock. 

“You’re so pretty when you cum, now clean up your mess.” 

You’re completely cock drunk, the only thing you can think about is Eren's big cock in your cunt. You nod before crawling under the covers and grabbing his dick in your hands. You feel him jerk from your cold touch. You lick up the side of his shaft a couple of times before putting his full length in your throat.

“That throat feels good baby. Let me fuck your throat.” 

He grabs the top of your bonnet pushing you as far as you can go. Tears start forming in the corner of your eyes before you start bobbing your head. You can hear Eren mumbling your name under his breath, you take that as a sign that you’re doing a good job.

“Fuck ma I’m about to cum…”

You use your hand to stroke his cock while you suck it, sending him over the edge.

“I wanna cum inside of you, get back up here.”

You do one last stroke of his cock before he pulls you under him. With your face stuffed in the pillow and your ass in the air, it doesn’t take long before Eren rubs your entrance with the tip of his cock. 

“You’re so wet for me baby, show me who this cock belongs to.”

He whispers in your ear, trailing soft kisses up your back before shoving his dick inside of you with no warning. You yelp in surprise, his cock spreading you apart so good. He starts with a steady pace before it turns into violent backshots. Your moans are muffled in the pillow and you’re clawing at the sheets. 

“Eren! Fuck…slow down.”

You don’t even have to see him to know he’s grinning ear to ear. You hear him click his tongue in response 

“No mama, you can take it. I’ve trained this pussy well. Come on, say ‘I can take it’. Say it”

You sobbed into the pillow, not daring to move your hand back to try to stop him. The pleasure is too much, and truthfully you enjoyed it.

“I…I c-can…mmph…take it…”

You were able to get the statement out even between the torment Eren is putting your cervix through. 

“You can take what ma? Say for me and I’ll let your pretty pussy cum.”

He whispers in your ear, his hands running up and down your body. He’s leaving hickeys and bite marks all over your neck. 

“I…fuck…I can…I can take it! I love it! Fuck…I love your cock!”

You look like a pornstar right now and Eren is loving it. The drool hanging from your two-toned lips, your pink bonnet slipping off your head exposing your knotless braids, the way your plump ass slams against his pelvis, and your puffy pussy wrapped around his cock. 

“I’m about to…mmph…cum!”

You sob before coving his cock in more of your juices. He follows closely after, shooting white ropes inside of you and leaving a rim of your mixed fluids around the base of his cock. Eren collapses on top of you, leaving a trail of passionate kisses along your neck. 

“You did so well mama, you're such a good girl…”

He trails off, tracing small shapes into your skin.

“Thanks…for the help, I love you…”

“I love you too…”

3:29 AM

(♡): [Audio message]

Sashaluv: “I’m guessing she fixed her pussy problem…:/”

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Xavier: Cat Nap | SFW

Just a quick thing I wrote up before work because I'm brain rotting on cat men rn. Also Grammarly corrected this one so hopefully there's no typos but I'm already running late for work so I ain't got time so ENJOY.

Pairings: Xavier x Reader Warnings: Cat Xavier Fluff Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

The door to your apartment opened with the smallest click; the noise echoed through it, causing Xavier’s ears to twitch as they perked up. He had been lying contently on the couch, curled up with a pillow held against his chest while the sun bore down just right on him. He let out a yawn as he tried to peer over to the entryway, hearing the rustling of keys and your shoes as you took them off and put them over by the door. His tail swayed lazily behind him as he propped his chin on the armrest of the soda, just waiting to see your form coming around the corner.

The soft padding of your feet drew nearer until he could finally see you. He didn’t realize he had been tensed up when he heard the door, but it was apparent the moment his entire body became more relaxed as you slowly approached him. He wanted attention, and that was for sure, and you were always more than happy to give it to him.

“Are you really taking a nap again? Weren’t you asleep when I left for work earlier?” you asked with a laugh, running your hands through his hair. He was almost purring when your hand came into contact with one of his ears, your touch gentle as you scratched right behind it.

“I can’t help it; you turned me into a cat,” Xavier said, leaning up into your palm. While it was true that you accidentally turned him into a cat boy three days ago using a new evol wand that you got as a prize, he was still always taking naps. Nothing really had changed other than the fact that he wasn’t going to work until he was back to normal, which would depend on when the wand would finish being repaired, as it broke the moment you used it.

You laughed, pinching the tip of his ear, and he let out a gasp, ducking his head more into the cushions. His blue eyes watched your hand with keen interest, almost wondering if you’d be doing it again. His ears were sensitive, and you knew that. It was why you had so much fun playing with them in the first place. “Really, again?” Xavier mumbled. He could see as you slowly came around to the other side of the sofa, sitting down on it and relaxing into the cushions.

Xavier didn’t even bother asking as he got closer to you and placed his head right onto your lap. His ears twitched as he looked at you, waiting for you to pet him. A small laugh escaped you as you went back to playing with his hair, your nails scratching gently on his scalp. This time, a nice, subtle purr came from his chest as he melted into your touch, savoring every moment of it.

“You know, I think in another life, you were a cat.” You mentioned noticing just how content he was despite the current situation. He really was just a sleepy cat who was always wanting your attention. Just the other night, he had been rubbing up against you until you finally gave him and cuddled with him. He was adorable, and you almost wished the wand would never be fixed so you could keep this version of Xavier forever.

Xavier grabbed your wrist and placed the palm of your hand against his cheek, nuzzling into it as he closed his eyes. You watched his nose wiggle a bit as he sniffed your scent; the faint floral smell invaded his senses, the same perfume that Tara had accidentally gotten on you earlier that day. “I like this smell.” He murmured, licking right on your wrist.

“I wish I could tell you what it was.” You laughed, “Tara was trying to spray herself, but the nuzzle was pointed at me. I used my arms to block my face, and it got all over them.” This got a laugh from Xavier as he continued to lick at your wrist. A small shiver went down your spine at the odd sensation. His tongue wasn’t dry like a cat, so it was still a bit slimy and left a wet trail over the skin there.

“Having fun?” you finally asked after a moment. His eyes finally opened and flicked over to you. You then watched as he gently nipped at your wrist just enough to have you flinching back, “Ow, Xayxay…” you said, the ending of his nickname coming out as a whine, “Did you really have to bite me?”

“I’m just a cat; what do you want from me.” He had a small pout on his lips and you could see the way his tail was swaying happily behind him. You shook your head and adjusted yourself; Xavier let out a small whine at your new position, trying to get comfortable again.

“You know, we could just cuddle in bed. I wouldn’t mind a nap after work.” You said, looking at the clock. It was only three in the afternoon since you had to go into the office extremely early. It was nice to get off at a normal, human hour instead of late at night after fighting wanderers all day.

Xavier didn’t bother responding. Instead, his hand was seeking out your own again. You moved it out of his reach, and you watched him go for it again. His new quirks were always amusing, and you were wondering briefly just how cat-like he could get. If he’d be like this for another day, perhaps you’d invest in a laser point. You let him take your hand again, and he kissed your palm, his ears flat against his head as he looked at you with a pleading expression.

“Lay down here with me.” He said, his tone almost coming out a little whiny. You sighed as you adjusted again, getting him off your lap as you lay down. His head found your chest where he relaxed, his arms around your torso like you were a giant plushie, “This is better…”

“Alright, but we’re only napping for a little. We still need to get dinner ready.” You reminded him, but you were only met with the gentle sound of his snoring as he passed out on you.

[galactic-magick]

Nights Like This: Viktor x Reader

Summary: You and Viktor get ready for bed together.

Warnings: none

Author's Note: Obsessed with Viktor and Arcane in general rn so I wrote this tooth-rotting fluff fic. Enjoy <3

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Viktor looks so serene, sitting there like that. Invested in his book, the dim light of the lamps in the living room reflecting on his skin like gold. He’s so beautiful, and you never tire of seeing his face no matter how long you’ve been together. You’ve memorized every mark, every scar, every crease. He’s your everything.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been in the doorway staring at him until he glances up and smiles his cheeky grin he reserves only for you.

“Care to join me?”

You nod, a huge smile stretching across your face as you rush over and snuggle into his side. You kiss his jaw and rest your head on his shoulder.

“How was your shower, darling?” Viktor asks, wrapping one arm around you and transferring his book to the other.

“Good. You going to be up much longer?”

“No,” he closes his book and sets it on the side table. “Just waiting for you, love.”

You give him one last squeeze and kiss before standing up, offering him your hand. He takes it, leaning on you for support as you both walk to the bedroom. Viktor would never let anyone else be his crutch, but he appreciates the closeness.

You rummage through the bathroom drawer while Viktor gets undressed, grabbing a bottle, towels, and soap. You then join him on the bed and help him take his back and leg braces off. Despite all the buckles and locks, the process is quite quick from the practice. Even though Viktor constantly told you that you don’t have to do this every night, you insisted on it so much that he doesn’t try to stop you anymore. You do this because you love him, not out of a feeling of obligation.

Opening the bottle of pain potion, you pour some into your palms and begin massaging it onto his back, handing him the bottle afterwards so he can use it on his leg. It’s a far from perfect fix, but it usually soothes the aching enough to help him fall asleep. He sighs in relief once you’ve spread it around and massaged every inch of his skin, leaning back onto you, his head colliding with your shoulder. You wrap your limbs around him and pull him in until there’s no space between you, kissing his temple.

“You’re too good to me, love,” he says softly.

“I’m good as you deserve, darling,” you assure him, moving up a hand to tangle your fingers through his soft hair. He hums at your touch, sinking further into your embrace.

“Hang on,” you say, gently pushing him away. You grab his braces and wipe them down with the soap and wet towels, then hang them up to dry overnight. You also turn off the lights in the room before returning to the bedside.

Viktor looks up at you in adoration, still failing to understand how someone could do so much for him without a second thought. Your love for him is constantly pouring out of you like an overflowing fountain, and he knows he’s powerless to stop it, not that he’d ever try. It’s taken him a long time to accept this type of love as his reality, the kind that’s unconditional and unwavering, but he finally has. He’s allowed his heart to be calm with you, be trusting.

You will always be the vision of perfection in Viktor’s eyes, the person no other living being could live up to in tranquility, character, and allure. He could never tire of listening to you or looking at you. You make him feel like the person so many others in his life told him he could never be.

You stand between his legs as he sits on the edge of the bed, returning your fingers to his hair. His hands desperately cling to your hips, pulling you closer until his face is nuzzling your stomach. He looks up at you, melting under your soft gaze.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you too,” you smile warmly, caressing his face a bit before sitting next to him.

You pull off the covers and wiggle under them, gently pulling on his arm for him to join you. He follows suit, instantly cuddling you close. He presses kisses to your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and finally locks your lips. When he can’t find the words to describe just how much you mean to him, he puts everything into his soft, affectionate touches. You understand every phrase, every sentence he says with each stroke of his hands on you, lulling you into peace and relaxation.

“Viktor…” your eyes are barely open, but you don’t want to stop looking at his handsome face. You brush a hand across his cheek.

“Shh, darling, you’ve more than earned your sleep,” he guides your head to his chest, feeling your breath on his bare skin.

Viktor is never the first to fall asleep, but he’s never minded that. He watches as your eyes shut and you mindlessly snuggle him in your slumber. He will never take nights like this for granted, nor you or your love.

He kisses the top of your head one last time before succumbing to his own fatigue.

“Goodnight, my love.”

[d0youc0py]

I am ✨obsessed✨ with your page rn and would absolutely devour literally anything you give us.

I’d love to see your take on a kidnap/break in fic though!

Something like they’re coming home from deployment and their girlfriend/wife calls them (or laswell) freaking out about a weird car outside, or someone following them home.

Just damsel in distress x protective husband vibes all the way 💕

“If we’re gonna go after them we’ve got to do it tonight. They’re expecting us to wait till they get further south.”

“What about all the civilians in the city?”

“No explosives. Everyone keep your silencers on. They won’t know till mornin’.”

“Ghost has a point. If we wait till next week our chances of hittin’ ‘em are slim. They aren’t expecting it now.”

“Yeah, they aren’t expecting it because it’s too damn risky. We do it tonight they have home advantage. We wait- all of us are on an even playing field.”

“They outnumber us 10-1. We’ll never be even.”

A knock at the door halted the conversation. A errand boy stuck his head in.

“Sorry to interrupt but this came for Lieutenant Ghost. Labeled urgent.” He held out a yellow package for Ghost.

“Thanks.” Price nodded his head, politely dismissing him.

“Johnny I’ve dealt with groups like this before.” Ghost spoke tearing open the flap of the package. “We need to get ‘em while their sitting pretty.” He blindly reached his hand into the package, his brow furrowing when he touched something soft. He pulled out a clump of hair.

His right leg gave out and he grabbed the table to steady himself.

“Ghost?” Price questioned. He gripped Ghost arms to steady him- and also urge him to give him an answer.

“No.” Ghost mumbled. He ripped open the rest of the package frantically searching for any sign that this was a prank. It couldn’t be real. Couldn’t be. “No.” He growled out. He pushed his way out the door his whole body shaking from anger and distress. The rest of the 141 followed quickly behind him. “Laswell.” She jumped as the door slammed open. “What the fuck is this?” The sight of him was enough to send a spike of fear through her heart. He threw the package with your hair on the table in front of her.

“Oh no.” Her eyes were wide and she wracked her brain for any answer she could give him.

“You said it would be alright.” He was seething at the point. Tears welled up in his eyes and he couldn’t be bothered to hide them. The air felt like it was being choked out of the room. Everyone’s skin was crawling. “You said they couldn’t trace her.”

Laswell looked over at Price for some relief, but he had not the slightest clue as to what was going on- or how to fix it. Just that Ghost was more worked up than he’d ever seen. Even Soap was shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“What going on?” Price asked. Ghost growled not answering the question, his eyes still trained on Laswell.

“I didn’t think they could.” She said calmly. “I didn’t enter it into the computer- it’s in your file, but not electronically.”

“Someone clarify what’s going on.” Price snapped.

“Ghost, let’s not jump to conclusions. Are we even sure this is Y/N’s hair?” Laswell tried to soothe.

“You think I don’t know my wife’s hair?” Ghost gritted. Wide eyes and jaws hung open around the room.

“Wife?” Soap whispered.

“Yes, my wife.” Ghost affirmed. “After I had that accident a few months ago I thought it would be a good idea to finally make her my emergency contact. So if I died she wouldn’t be locked up in the house waitin’ for me.” He explained. “You told me it was safe.”

“It is. They had to have gotten her info somewhere else.” Laswell insisted. “I’ll start tracking her down. You need to calm down.”

“Fuck off.” Ghost sneered. Price gave him a warning shoulder shove.

“We’ll go see if we can find anything on our end.” Price sighed.

•••••••••••

It only took an hour to find you. Gaz was able to PinPoint your location- conveniently the sight they were debating on hitting tonight. They could barely keep up as Ghost began to load up. The odds weren’t great for them. They knew they were coming, they were outnumbered and they had a hostage- who they knew at least one of the team members would die for in a heartbeat.

“Ghost you need to keep your cool. Stick to the plan. You can’t help her if you’re dead.” Price was trying to talk him through it. Ghost had completely shut down. He’s had nightmares just like this before. You being tortured- just the way he had been. He swallowed back bile just thinking about it. He paced back and forth on the plane, growling and grumbling like a caged bear.

They were ready for the 141. All waiting patiently in their places ready to take down the infamous task force. Smirks spread across their faces and they could practically taste the celebratory dinner that awaited them. What they weren’t ready for was the absolute hell that was about to be unleashed on them.

They all had just stepped off the plane before Ghost was blowing through people like they were paper. Soap would bet his life on the fact that he saw Ghost go through a wall at one point. He wasn’t sticking to the plan. He was moving at inhuman speed. It was impossible to keep up with him.

“Found her. Back building, fourth floor second door on the left.” Soap’s voice rang through the comms.

“Hey, I’m a friend of Ghost’s.” Johnny spoke softly. You seemed to be relatively unharmed. When Johnny pried open the door he caught a glimpse of you diving under a small cot- your hair peaking out from under it.

“I’ve told you I don’t know who that is.” You murmured. He could hear the fear in your voice. Johnny sat down a few feet away from the bed.

“Oh right.” He whispered. “A friend of Simon’s.” Soap corrected. Your head peaked out from the bed. You had a bruise on your cheek- a slap mark?

“Simon?” You repeated slowly. Soap nodded his head. “Johnny?” You asked. Soap smiled.

“So he does talk about me.” His humor was wasted on you, but it did calm you a bit. Suddenly Ghost practically tumbled through the door. You shrieked not realizing who it was and dove back under the bed.

“Sweetheart.” Ghost quickly ripped off his mask, (not wanting to scare you more) laying on his stomach to get a look at you. You shot out from under the bed wrapping every limb you could around him. His hand gripped the back of your head pressing your forehead against his lips. “I’m sorry.” He pressed a few quick kisses against your head, before pulling away, worried eyes scanning all over you.

“I’m fine.” You assured. You had been lucky- well as lucky as one could be in this situation. Your worst wound was a slap to the cheek and a shitty haircut. The worst part was the fear. Fear of what they would do to you. Now that Simon was here you were at ease. His fingers skimmed over your cheek. “Got that because I bit a chunk out of someone’s hand.” You smirked.

“Good Girl.” He growled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “We’ve got to get out of here, yeah? I’m goin’ put my mask back on and you’re going to stay between me and Johnny, understand?” You nodded your head, while Johnny was still reeling from all the affection Ghost had displayed.

Safe to say the mission was a success.

*ring*

“Sweetheart?”

You thank the stars above that John always picked up on the first ring.

“Not to worry you”-

“You need me to come get you?”

“No, can you meet me somewhere? There’s a red car that’s been following me and I don’t want to lead it to our house.” You explained, checking in your rearview mirror. Sure enough, a bright, red sports car was bearing down on you.

“Go to the coffee shop. Don’t park until you see my car in the parking lot. Don’t hang up either.”

“Affirm.” You snickered. John was in absolutely no mood to joke with you. You could hear the sound of his car starting.

“Hope I don’t have to get in a fight tonight. Only wearing my boxers and a shirt.” He wasn’t trying to be funny, but it still made you laugh.

“Could’ve thrown a pair of pants on.” You commented.

“If the difference between you being worm food and you being alright was me wrestling with a pair of jeans I’d never forgive myself.” He grumbled.

“I’ll be fine John. Captain’s coming to save me.” Normally he would melt at that but he was too focused dodging in and out of cars. You could hear a horn from over the phone. “Please be safe.” You sighed. “I’m here.” He said suddenly. Your eyes glanced to your phone. You had only been on the phone for seven minutes and it took at least fifteen to get to the coffee shop from your house.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said as if he could read your mind.

“It’s still following me John.” You whispered. Your fingers dug nervously into the steering wheel.

“Don’t get scared on me now, Sweetheart. How far away are you?”

“Ten minutes?” You weren’t entirely sure. “I can take a shortcut through the neighborhood.”

“No.” He interjected. “Stay on main roads with traffic. Doesn’t matter how long it takes for you to get here, just make sure you stay with people.” You nodded your head. “You hear me?”

“Yes sorry. I nodded my head but you couldn’t see that.”

“I’m standing outside the car. Pull up next to me, don’t get out, I’ll get your door for you.” He had his Captains voice on. You wondered if this was how team briefings went.

“You always get my door for me.” You smiled.

“Damn right I do.” He scoffed. “But it’s important this time. I don’t just want to leave your car in the lot because who knows what type of things they’ll put on it.”

“Like a tracker?”

He hummed in agreement.

“You’re scaring me John.” You gulped.

“Don’t need to be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you, you know that. Just want you to be aware of what’s gonna happen when you park. Just stay in your car, yes?” His voice was calm. Like he had done this a million times before. You nodded your head again. “Did you nod your head again?” You swore you could hear a chuckle.

“Yes, sorry. I understand.” Time seems to slow as you finally pulled into the cafe parking lot. It hadn’t closed yet people still wandering in and out even as the sun has set. You were surprised no one noticed the large man in a pair of light blue boxers and white t-shirt. A t-shirt so thin you could see his chest hair. You did as he told and pulled up right next to him. The red car pulled in right next to you. Your eyes quickly fled to your left to look at John. He had a look on his face you weren’t familiar with.

The sound of the red car door opening caught your attention. A medium sized man stepped out. He just looked greasy. He shut his door and began walking over to your side of the car, seemingly not noticing John.

John met him in the middle, using one hand to grab him by his shirt and slam him against the hood of his own car. You covered your mouth, your eyes going wide. John’s face hovered over his. You couldn’t hear anything that was said, but when John finally let him go the man scrambled to get back into his severely dented car. John stood at the front of the car as he started it up and ripped out of the parking lot.

John tapped at your window signaling for you to unlock your door.

“You alright?” He checked, crouching down to your level. You eyes were still wide and you slowly nodded.

“What did you say?” You mumbled. John took your shaky hands with his, pressing a kiss against your palms.

“That’s a secret.” He smirked. “Didn’t scare you too bad did I?” He asked softly. His brows furrowed and he ran a hand up and down your arm.

“Honestly?”

His face paled. He hadn’t thought about scaring you. He didn’t think he acted too rash. In fact he was holding back.

“Honestly.” He affirmed.

“That was really hot.” You admitted, a hot blush across your face. His face went blank for a moment before a wide smirk crossed his face.

“Then we better get home.” He murmured, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Safe to drive?”

“Yes!” You said a little too enthusiastic.

You’re so sweet! I absolutely loved this request and probably went a little overboard. I was only able to fit Ghost and Price in this but would gladly do this with the rest of the 141 and other cod characters! Hope you liked it and thank you for making my day!

[pedgito]

𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Lucien Flores x reader

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | this is for @iamasaddie's kinky may writing challenge, a mix of a kink i haven't tried writing before and character i adore dearly but know next to nothing about. this was really fun to try out and my first fic back in almost four months, cheers to finally being back ig? may we christen it with smut.

content warning | heavy smut, literally pwp (there's some backstory if you squint), sensory deprivation, safe words, some food consumption as foreplay, some bodily fluid exchange/consumption, gags/restraints/ect and all that good stuff, oral (m/f receiving), p in v unprotected sex, established relationship, lucien is still a relatively blank character so none of this is canon (just how my silly little brain likes to imagine him rn)

word count — 4.7k

The rain is quiet against the apartment window, a soft and slow pattering that matches the slow beat of your heart. You can’t see it, not in your current position as Lucien leans his knee into the mattress behind you and the bed dips, warm fingertips brushing over your cheeks and the shell of your ear as he carefully and methodically secures the blindfold in place with a knot that feels secure. He brushes his fingertip over your nose as he nitpicks and mumbles something under his breath, fixing the black material until your vision is completely hindered.

“Princesa,” His voice is a soft caress, “everything alright?”

Constant check-ins, reassurances, comfortability and security—it was all you felt with Lucien. Things had clicked with him so easily. It made your heart drop into your stomach with the first realization, unlucky with love to a fault that never let up. He had eyes on you from the moment you first met and they never drifted.

A mid-life crisis. You were younger, a subordinate under his wife, and unattainable by most standards and rules. Fetching coffees, keeping Rose on schedule and reminding her of all the never-ending events she kept yes-ing—Lucien and her had long been divorced but a chance encounter at an industry mixer had landed you here. A routine you’ve both upheld for the last six months and it felt real. You had solid ground to stand on with Lucien and he never diminished how you were feeling, even if you felt so embarrassingly naive about things.

And the sex had never steadily climbed and crescendoed—Lucien liked to ravish and devour in a way that had you holding your breath and helped him realize very quickly how overwhelmed you could get. It wasn’t necessarily bad, but there was too much outside distraction—him, the droning buzz of traffic outside of his apartment, the distant muffled television a room away that Lucien always forgot to turn off before settling down for the evening with you. 

You needed focus, grounding—given Lucien’s illustrious history and Hollywood rumors and all the things you’ve heard from around town and within the social networks you shared, he seemed like the furthest thing from a good choice.

But, the care and attention he showed you drowned it out entirely. 

Hell, he gave you a key to his apartment within a month and you’ve never seen anyone else visit him—he doesn’t host parties here, he doesn’t even let his ex-wife set foot past the threshold. It was your own little sanctuary.

You lift the blindfold slightly and ruin the work he’d done to get it just how he wanted, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Hmm?” He’s got an eyebrow half-raise, features relaxed but masking an obvious worry that he didn’t want to harp about. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

Lucien tilts his head, “How good?”

Just good. Kinda good. I’m only telling you I’m good so you don’t worry about me.

His thumb rubs at your chin and the thoughts float away and you allow yourself to live in the moment, reaping in the undivided attention this man showed you.

“Really good.” You reply salaciously, using the angle to your advantage as he towered over you on the bed, foot dragging along the inside of his thigh and pressing into the back of it until he lost his footing and slipped further into the deep pockets of the comforter. “Better if you start touching me like you kept promising over dinner.”

“Eager today?” Lucien teases as he crawls until he’s found his way between your legs, resting on his outstretched palm as he fixes your blindfold and darkness floods your senses again.

“Game recognizes game.” You retort, allow Lucien to use a guiding hand to settle you against the plush headboard, buttons pulling in on the fanned, velvet material. “I really need this today.”

There’s a soft shuffling and the familiar clink of expensive jewelry scattering against the bedside table—it was the forewarning that Lucien was prepared to make a mess of you, hammering that final nail in the coffin as he drags three fingers in a harmonious unison over your clothed pussy, the thin shirt you were wearing rubbing against the inside of his forearm as he applies just enough pressure to have you chasing after it when it fades away.

“I know, baby.” His voice drips like a warm honey, sticking to your skin and making you sweat. “Say your word.”

“Luce, we do this every time. I know it, we’re good.”

Silence lingered and you cleared your throat, the dip of pressure in the mattress between your legs from his hand, not allowing himself to touch you until you repeated it back to him.

You nod, “Peach.”

The small tick of a fond memory shows on his face, lips curling up at one side. It happens every time and Lucien knows it was meant as a playful jab in the beginning, but it quickly became something so sacred. 

You've only used it once and never out of fear or miscommunication—Lucien understood your limits and liked to push when you agreed, but one too many orgasms by his tongue as he buried his head between your thighs had eventually became too much and it was said through a shaky laugh, yanking at his curls until he surfaced.

Lucien, almost instantly, is there—mouth pressed against the barrier of your underwear, fingers curling around your thighs and spreading you apart with ample pressure, exploring your skin like uncharted territory, a new exploration. Like he hadn’t been going down on you for the last several months and already mapped out every inch of your body, knew all the shortcuts and quick routes.

The wetness soaked your underwear, the fleshy fat of his tongue rubbing hot and lapping at the heady taste of your arousal with a sigh before his fingers curl around the edges of your underwear where they cling to your hips, moving them down your legs and suddenly, despite being surrounded by darkness, the feeling of exposure is still daunting. Every time. 

“Tell me about your day.”

Then he’s licking a slow stripe down your center and you’re curling at the sudden touch, but quickly relaxing as he settles in, letting your fingers rest back in his soft curls, using your other senses while they are still available. Your mind wanders and wonders, thinking about the expertise and dexterity of his tongue. How if he really wanted you to come, he would have you there in less than a minute, but he was going easy.

“Boring,” Is all you have, “Most of the same.”

He’s just trying to fill the air, giving you a solid distraction outside of his filthy mouth. It’s not exactly his aim to bring up work during sex, especially when it’s in relation to his ex-wife.

“And dinner? How was it?”

Lucien purposefully flicks his tongue over your clit and you gasp softly, tugging at the strands of hair under your fingertips and you feel a hand rub at your lower back as it arches, a tender touch that you give into.

“Perfect,” It’s the truth, eternally grateful for his choice of personal chefs, because as much as you adored Lucien, he was not to be let into a kitchen, “delicious, as always.”

Lucien groans, deep and low against your pussy as his mouth sucks greedily at you, feeling his fingers inching closer and closer to your core, like he’s trying to take things slow for now, but the impatience is winning out. They’re tight at the apex of your thighs currently and just bordering on discomfort when he squeezes every time you moan or sigh or make even the smallest reaction to his mouth.

“R-right there,” You direct, canting your hips up despite his strong grip, “fuck, just—yeah, right there.” Lucien has always responded well, course-correction and sensing the way your body pulls him in, thighs squeezing around him as he dips a finger inside of you in time with his tongue, working you over mercilessly.

The lack of sight is making everything that more intense, searching for something to ground you, using your grip in Lucien’s hair, your other hand placed over his where it’s curled around your thigh as an anchor, feeling him speak against your cunt, filthy words you can’t quite catch but if you could see him, he would be sporting a shit-eating grin. 

The heat in your stomach coils, feeling the sensation down your spine as you whimper, one final swipe of his tongue over your clit within the immense build up of tension has you brokenly moaning out, “Come—fuck, I’m c-coming, Luce.”

Lucien laps at your greedily, prying your thighs apart forcefully.

“Shit—” His voice encourages, “—such a sweet fuckin’ pussy. Makes me fuckin’ crazy. Need you to taste it, baby.”

He’s already moving up your body as your lips part, your tongue dipping blindly into his mouth and tasting the headiness of you on his tongue, a sweet tang that isn’t unwelcomed. You don’t often make it a habit to kiss him after he’s gone down on you—he’s often messy, face a mix of saliva and you, smeared all over his chin, but the frenzy in his voice is hard to deny, giggling softly into his mouth as your teeth graze his bottom lip.

You’re still effectively blind, rubbing your palm over the inseam of his silk lounge pants, pulling at the delicate string that was struggling, tight against the length of his cock. Lucien grunts into your neck at the touch and widens his knees against the mattress, biting playful at your skin to soothe it moments later. His hands rub at your weak thighs, still shaking post-orgasm and you can’t help but be eager despite how much energy Lucien had worked out of you.

“Sit up,” You pointedly squeeze at his shaft and lean up, feeling the movement of his body follow. “—my turn.”

Lucien huffs in amusement, shuffling back on his knees as you sit upright. You reach for your blindfold but his hand engulfs your own, “Not yet.” He orders calmly.

You relinquish control to his guidance and sit on your calves as he places your hands flat against his bare chest, just above the softness of his stomach, feeling his heartbeat under your palms. “Like this.”

“But, I want to see you for this.” It’s nearly a beg, more of a test to see how easy he gives into your wants, but he chuckles in response and taps at your chin once. So, that was a no.

Despite how quickly he got off from a single look, his cock stuffed into your mouth and his hand gripping hard at the root of your scalp—maybe he was actually doing himself a favor.

Your shoulders slump slightly, barely noticeable but you smile and trail your fingertips down his abdomen, featherlight as the muscle flexes underneath your touch and they hover around the hem of pants as you lean forward and aim to press a kiss to his sternum, his chest, down and down until you feel your lips brush against the waistband.

“Take it out,” He encourages, “wanna watch you.”

You pull at the waistband with your teeth playfully, curious of just how quickly you're driving Lucien up the wall with the way you're acting, the material catching over his stiff, hard cock and allowing your hands to help you get them the rest of the way down. 

Lucien is kind enough to be a guiding hand, thumb pressed against the side of your jaw as he guides you forward, feeding the head of his cock past your lips, tongue dragging along the tip and under, the brush of foreskin like soft, warm velvet.

And you have him in the palm of your hand like this, despite how helpless you must look. It only takes a few minutes before Lucien is louder, mouthier with his words and harsh with his matching thrusts into your mouth.

Frustrated, Lucien pulls at the knot on your blindfold hastily, the soft grunts of his impending orgasm loud in your ears, feeling so starved of sight that when the blindfold falls away and your eyes open and you’re overwhelmed with light, ignoring the fact that Lucien’s cock was nearly pressing against the back of your throat.

But, it’s quickly nulled out by Lucien, towering over you and blocking most of the harsh fluorescence that drown out the room around you, eyes falling close again despite being free of the blindfold as you take him until your nose is pressing against his groin, the fingers resting at the back of your neck squeezing harshly.

Selfishly, he wants to keep you here for a while longer. A few minutes, a few hours.

“Relajate,” Lucien forces out, his mouth hanging open on the word as you pull away, now wide-eyed and wiping away the string of spit that connects you to him, “there’s no rush.”

You smirk at his words, grinning up at him before you lick at the head of his cock, wrapping your hand around his shaft as you respond, “For you, maybe. But, I want you to fuck me.”

Lucien’s fingers dance along the shell of your ear, drifting down the column of your neck until his palm covers the expanse of it before gripping firmly, a soft gasp ripping from your throat as he forces you to straighten, leaning down into your space.

“Slow, princesa,” Lucien demands, “Or you’ll regret it later.”

As if that didn’t already intrigue you enough, you nod subtly and return his mischievous grin.

Slow is what you give him, long strokes as you circle your tongue around the head of his cock, occasionally dipping your head down to lick the underside of his shaft, too dangerously close to his balls, taut from how obviously he was straining to hold off, his usually perfectly quaffed hair sticking to his forehead and every which way.

There is no wondering—you could do this all day if you wanted, bringing him right to the edge but never quite falling, like he enjoyed doing to you, a shared pastime you’ve explored a few times but clearly not enough—because eventually you just get impatient.

Thankfully he seems to understand, nodding as your lips hover near his cock, playful kisses pressed against his pubic bone and scattered around until you finally decide to swallow him down, a few minutes later and he’s coming down your throat, eyes watering at the force but his eyes are locked on your own and you swallow on instinct, taking a sharp breath when he finally pulls back, seemingly just as wrecked as you were a half hour ago as he slumps into the bed, landing on back beside you, his hand rubbing over your knee tenderly.

“Are you up for a snack?” 

You look at him quizzically, bemused at his question.

“Is that code?” You tease, fingers scratching at his overgrown stubble beard, “Should I be worried?”

“No, I’m hungry,” Lucien laughs gruffly, groaning as he turns on his side and slips off the bed, walking naked to the door and out of the room casually, coming back into the room with a sizeable plate of cut fruit and you grin, his heel forcing the door closed behind him. “See?”

He offers the plate up as proof as he sets it at the bedside table, though his fingers linger near the closed drawer a few centimeters beneath it. And you know where things are heading, the routine isn’t always the same, but Lucien liked to cover most, if not all the bases on nights where he was really needing the distraction. It seemed to be one of those nights, watching as his fingers dipped inside the drawer to grab the wrist restraints that hooked to the center of his headboard, a soft material that helped with comfort but made it damn near impossible to slip out if you really wanted to while your hands were hooked up.

But, that’s what Lucien wanted. The ability to trust that he would know your limits or that you would trust him enough to react to the safe word if you ever, for any reason, needed to use it.

“Oh—” Your gaze lingers and Lucien rubs the material in his hands.

“This alright?” He wonders, though the glint in your eye is enough of an answer.

You laugh softly through your nose and take the binding in his hand, slipping your wrist through the loops, leisurely scooting back until you hit the headboard, raising your arms above your head, “You tell me?”

Lucien chews absently at his bottom lip as he takes a rogue bite out of one of the strawberries on the plate before leaning onto his knee against the mattress, securing the restraint into place. A small latch that was also accessible to you if needed. He leans down quickly and you’re unprepared for the suddenness of it but he presses against you in a slow, sloppy kiss that leaves you chasing after the sweet juice that lingered in his mouth, mixed with the glass of malt whiskey he’d had earlier.

“Blindfold too?” You ask curiously.

Lucien shakes his head distractedly and takes his seat beside you on the bed, facing in the opposite direction so you’re both facing each other. The lack of clothing should feel distracting, but you’re too focused on his face, watching as he carefully bunches up the leaves on a strawberry and presses it to your lips, tongue curling around it and biting into it with a soft crunch.

‘What’s with the food?” You ask with a slightly furrowed brow, food stuffed in your cheek as you chew, “Not that I’m complaining but…this is…”

“Baby, relax,” He notices the tensing of the muscles in your forearm, nodding in the general direction—you hadn’t realized how hard you were curling your hands into fists until he pointed it out, “—remember the new assistant I hired?”

Another bite and the strawberry is done for, Lucien’s finger following as he wipes away the mess of juice around your bottom lip, savoring it for himself as he presses his thumb against his thumb and sucks and if he sees the way your thighs inch together, he doesn’t say anything. 

You hum in acknowledgment and chew at the fruit, remembering the fresh-faced and terrified young man who Lucien had given a shot to after firing his old assistant—the embezzling funds was a problem, but he also insisted that he needed a fresh start, but you didn’t think he meant that fresh.

“I was craving it,” Lucien shrugged, “He went and picked up a bunch of shit.”

“Craving it,” You mince the words and Lucien chuckles, noticing your pointed gaze, “—for a sex thing, clearly.”

Caught. Sort of. 

Lucien was big on trying new things—it was harmless, but the way he had tore into a peach during the picnic luncheon at for the acting agency both he and Rose worked under, eyes locked on you as he split it in half and shared the other half with you, less than careful about the way he cleaned up the juices on himself and you, finding yourself unexpectedly drooling over him in one of your less than finest moments. It was either the delicious fruit or an oral fixation. Maybe both. 

He shoved a slice of kiwi between his teeth and leaned forward, pressing the fruit into your mouth and following with his tongue, devouring you into a kiss that has you whining quietly into his mouth, pulling away as you leaned forward to chase after him, chewing at the fruit in annoyance as you slumped back.

“Play nice, princesa.” Lucien teases.

“I am,” You retort with a sharp bite in your town, “you are making me wait.”

Lucien takes the ringlet slice of pineapple and squeezes it over your bare chest, down the valley of your breasts and you gasp at the sudden change in temperature against your hot to the touch skin, eyes snapping to the liquid traveling to your belly button.

“Lucien!” 

You shriek, watching as he tossed the mangled fruit aside and made his ascent, licking from your belly button to the junction of your neck in one go, hovering over you with a devilish smile.

“If you don’t fuck me right now—” You gritted through clenched teeth and he presses his forehead against your own, giving you nowhere to hide as he stares you down, “I swear to god, Luce—”

“You trust me, right?”

“Stupid question,” You retort, nudging him back with your nose, “of course.”

Lucien hides the bemused expression on his face as he looks away, leaning over the side of the bed for a couple items that are out of your line of sight but quickly come into view as he lays them against your stomach, his thighs slotted underneath your own, taut muscle rubbing against your skin.

“Thought we could,” He separates them out carefully along your abdomen, “try a few at once.”

A gag—familiar and frequently used, black leather around a silicone black ball. A different blindfold, more like a sleep mask—it looked like Lucien’s sleep mask, actually. He could use the traditional one he tends to stick with but it seems he’s aiming for comfort here, fingers tracing along the last item with a raised brow.

“Ear buds? Really, Lucien? Headphones?” You giggle softly, “You want me to listen to music while we—”

“No, no—” Your laughter is infectious and he chuckles too, “baby, they’re just noise canceling.”

“Oh?” Your wrist yanks in interest before you realize you’re still restrained.

“If it’s too much, we don’t have to.” Lucien is very clear about that, fingertips pressed into the sheets beside your hips. 

“You really like when I give over control, don’t you?” You tease playfully.

“Como siempre.” He says softly before leaning down to nip at your breasts, eyes flicking up at you.

“Okay, yes. But—” You look up at your hands, bound but not uncomfortable, “maybe no blindfold. I’ll keep my eyes closed but I want to see you. I like being able to see you.”

Lucien nods in agreement, a slow and treatours pace he takes as he retreats, tongue dragging down the center of your body and still tasting slightly of citrus. He smirks at your obvious squirming before doing away with the blindfold and allowing himself to get everything else in order.

The gag comes first, a small muffled grunt as he tightens the strap around the back of your head, adjusting it until you give him a solid nod. It helped that despite your inability to communicate verbally that Lucien had created a way for you to rid yourself of your wrist restraints whenever everything felt a little too much but you weren’t worried about using your safe word, a small latch connected to the metal chain that linked you to the headboard, easily accessible. And then the headphones, an odd experience to say the least—you can’t imagine what kind of money Lucien wasted on these because they immediately drown out all noise, the small buds resting in your ears and relatively out of sight.

It feels ridiculous, but when Lucien speaks and you can’t hear, your heart races with an anticipation you’ve never felt before. Exhilaration, more like.

You have no other choice than to watch—watch as Lucien settles comfortably back, kneeling as he runs his fingers along the underside of his cock and down to his balls, cupping them and rolling them around leisurely, your eyes watching every single movement, teeth baring down gently around the ball as he fists him, fingers dragging over his shaft and working himself up quickly, his chest slightly flushed from a mix of your previous activities and now, his eyes never settling on one piece of your body for too long.

You communicate through nods and eye contact, feelings incredibly vulnerable in the moment, watching as Lucien pressed himself inside of you with slow intention and you swear you can hear the deep exhale he forces out through his nose as it flares before he settles and gives you no time at all to prepare, a small gasp escaping you as your finger tighten around the slack in the strap connection your wrist cuffs to the bed, a slow but deep snap of his hips that shatters your focus, back arching into his touch as his fingers run along your spine and dig in, gripping you tight, practically sitting in his lap with the angle he has you held at.

“Mi vida,” He sighs, knowing you can’t hear him, “mi vida, mi vida, mi vida,” growing quiet with every utterance of it, “too perfect for me, baby.”

The vibration of his voice is pressed against your collarbone, his nose dragging along the junction of your neck and you’re so curious of what he’s saying, but you try not to let your mind wander—not that he allows much of that, gradually switching the pace to something stronger.

You wished you were stronger than Lucien liked to give you credit for, but you do find that your impatience eats away at you, coming in short whines and pleading looks and Lucien catches your gaze, eyes soft and watery. 

He’s breathing out in short grunts through his mouth and you can see his nose scrunch up as he groans, fingers digging into your skin, squeezing tight at your hips—you can’t do it anymore, reaching your fingers up to grasp at the latch keeping your arms hoisted up, falling back in a heap with Lucien pressed against your chest, hastily slipping your hands out of the binding.

Lucien catches on quickly, working the gag off and tossing it aside, hearing it clink heavily against a nearby object but neither of you bother looking and quickly discarding the headphones on the nightstand, his forearms coming around your head to barricade you in.

You’ve never felt more safe.

“Pobrecita, come on,” Lucien coos, “ask for it, yeah? You want me to touch you?” Lucien moans heavily against your skin, your own hands twisting it his hair, fingers curling gently around the back of his ears, “Want me to make you come with my cock inside you? Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” You whine softly, “touch me—please, just touch me.”

He doesn’t move quick enough, finding that your hand quickly searches for his own, pressing it between your bodies and his fingers know you, working like muscle memory as he circles your clit a combination of his middle and ring and it’s nearly instantaneous, a mix of built up tension and desperate need for release. Your fingers pinch at the skin of his neck as you come, pulling the hair at the nape of neck and breathing in a sharp gasp, mouth hung open in silence as your eyes squeeze shut.

“That’s it, baby.” Lucien breathes quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to your breast as you come, eventually finding your lips and kissing you thoroughly, silencing your weak moans, chest heaving deeply in the aftermath as he pulls back, nothing he’s on the edge himself.

“I want you in my mouth again,” You sound desperate, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze from where he towers over you, fists gripping the sheets, “wanna taste us together, baby.”

Lucien rises suddenly, one palm pressed against the headboard as he grips his cock with the other, quickly spilling over your stomach, a sigh punches from his chest as he comes down, flush with a slight embarrassment at how easily it was for you to work him up.

“Or not,” You say through a tired laugh, soft and airy, “too much?”

“Never.” Lucien assures, brow furrowing in amusement as he drags a finger through the mess he made, bringing it to your mouth and allowing you to suck, lick, and make an over the top and unnecessary show as you swallow his cum and Lucien feels his cock twitch between his legs, despite how tired his body felt. 

“Jesus, princesa,” He laughs, “—greedy tonight?”

You mirror his actions, bringing your own finger into the mess before pressing it into his mouth—and Lucien opens with a lust-drunk grin, capturing your wrist in a tight grip and licking off his own spend from your finger.

“Absolutely.”

And thank god, because your night was far from over.

↝ beta: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

↝ divider credit: yours truly.

[funkycloewn]

I've once again come from the dead to post lmaooo

After having avoided the pilot for so long in fear of getting sucked into the world and fandom, I finally watched Lackadaisy! (My fears were right btw as it has a grip on me rn) I love it and subsequently read the comic so I knew everything and wouldn't get spoilered.

Anyway, a little time after I came across the amazing interactive fic called the Under The Devil's Moon made by @libras-interactives

I enjoyed a lot (and can't wait for the next chapter/update) and couldn't help but make ocs due to this fic being a sort of self insert thing

These characters shown are only two out the five I made :]

It's sorta rambly but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! (Especially you, Iibra 🥺)

Name: Margaret Quinn

Nickname: Daisy

Date of Birth: October 26, 1889 (31 Years Old)

Personality:

(Mostly the usual callgirl personality with some stuff added into the mix)

Years of being in the industry, has shaped this feline to be calm, gentle and soft spoken. She knows what her customers want and acts accordingly so. Though, she doesn't particularly show it — that would be bad for her image as a callgirl — she is quick to give a person a label, to categorize them. She doesn't mean to be judgy but this mindset has helped her out countless of times, so she continues on; getting to know that someone is the only way for her to lift off the verdict she holds. With the ones she loves, Margaret is very caring towards. Making sure they're well fed with both food and love is one of her top priorities. (Though, recently that has been a difficult task to maintain) This, unfortunately, can make her pushy and stubborn even when she means well.

Romantic Relationship:

Out of all the characters to choose from I chose our friendly local bartender, Viktor Vasko. At one time I was thinking of either Zib or Sable but after reading about how he would treat Chester, I was sold. I can't for that romance to unfold! :D (rhyming unintended)

Other:

• She was born and lived most of her life in the outskirts of New Orleans

• Her mother succumbed to a yellow fever outbreak, leaving her and a few other kids orphaned.

• This led to her forming a group with said children and the four of them residing in an abandoned shack.

• Margaret knows how to fix things at least temporarily because of this (e.g. pipes and infrastructure).

• (This one is a little violent so warning for that :'D) Both her front paws are missing their claws. This is due to a farmer who got sick of her constantly stealing his chickens.

• The pearl necklace she has, was given to her by Flynn. She doesn’t like anyone to know that and avoids the question when asked who she got it from.

• She likes fidgeting with the pearls. The way they softly clack when moved and the feeling of them soothes her.

• Due to her motherly nature, she will "adopt" (translation: care and look after) anyone under the age of 25 with who she is somewhat close to, especially when they are boys

• She sees Jack and Marius as older sons of hers

• Rocky could (will) be a contender for the spot of a fourth son

• She always carries a box containing a sewing kit, buttons and patches

• This has come in handy plentiful of times for Jack, mostly. On rare occasions Marius is in need of them, though I would think he's picky on what she uses; they have to match.

• Though, she says she doesn't know who Chester's father is, she knows. She just doesn't like to acknowledge it.

Voice Claim: Tiana from Princess and the Frog

Name: Chester Quinn

Date of Birth: January 6, 1917 (3 Years Old)

Personality:

This little troublemaker, has a great fondness for being one with the earth. By that I mean, he loves digging. Chester likes creating craters at playgrounds or parks, all the while letting himself be covered in freshly dug up soil. Almost all of his clothes have a grass stain and Larochka fears that he might have stained his chubby little hands for eternity. Speaking of fashion, he hates wearing shoes. A tantrum is bound to occur if you simply try to make him wear a pair. Even if you somehow achieve the impossible, he will just claw them off and chuck them. However despite all that, he's well meaning and can be gentle at times. He enjoys snuggling with him Mama or Larochka. Chester is very social and when out he's always looking for a way to make people smile.

Other:

• If he likes you, he'll make you a 'special mud pie' (a mud pie sprinkled with hand picked flowers; the more flowers, the more he likes you)

• He's handsy, mostly because he's an affectionate boy but also due to the fact he has poor eye sight.

• While he's chubby right now he grows to look more like his father, even somewhat in the face department.

• Fortunately for everyone and the tom himself, he grows out of his habit to refuse any kind of footwear. Don't tease older Chester about his phase, though, because he will get embarrassed and he will look like he just ate a sour lemon.

Voice Claim: Greg from Over the Garden Wall

Cleaned up and with his eye color when he gains his melanin

Wonder who the dad is lmaoo

Lastly a size comparison (not sure if it's accurate tho lol)

[puppym3]

heartstrings and lullabies chap 2

soft!seungmin x afab!reader

chap 3!

wc: 4.3

warnings: lil awkward again, intimate kissing scenes, "practice kissing", alcohol consumption (not a ton), a lil more angsty, a lot of kissing, seungmin is confused and gets shy, sexual tension, dramatic exits to the bathroom, the chapter ends at a weird place (sry)

a/n: thank you guys for reading! i'm writing chap 3 rn! if you guys want to leave suggestions or other fic ideas in my inbox please do! i'm accepting of everything. chap 3 should be out by the end of thurs or friday!

MINORS DNI!

---

The night after, I found myself creeping to the end of the hall for the first time. The house's silence amplified every sound, the soft creak of the floorboards beneath my feet, the distant hum of the AC, and the quiet sounds of the bugs outside.

I paused in front of the door, adjusting the bottom of my dress and taking a deep breath before raising my hand to knock. Before I could, the door opened slightly, revealing Seungmin's curious eyes.

"Hey," he greeted, his eyes quickly jumping nervously up and down, then stepping back hesitantly to let me in. "I wasn't sure if you'd come."

"Yeah, well, here I am," I replied, a nervous laugh escaping my lips as I crossed the threshold. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting gentle shadows across the walls. It was cozy, with bookshelves lining one side and a small desk cluttered with papers and knick-knacks.

Seungmin motioned to a small couch against the far wall. "Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get us something to drink."

I sat down, trying to calm the fluttering in my chest. There was something comforting about being in Seungmin's space, surrounded by the things that made up his world. I picked up a book from the coffee table, flipping through its pages absentmindedly until Seungmin returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Is this fine? I apologize, I don’t drink much." He said, setting the glasses down on the table beside me.

I nodded, a smile tugging at my lips. "Why do you have a whole bottle in your room if you don’t drink much?" I teased, the words lightening the air between us.

Seungmin chuckled softly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "It was a gift," he admitted, pouring us each a glass with a practiced hand. "Thought I might drink with a friend someday."

I accepted the glass he offered, the rich scent of red wine filling the air between us. I reluctantly took a sip, humming at the warmth it brought to my throat.

Before I knew it, I had downed half the glass while Seungmin was only two sips in. I definitely emotionally and physically started to relax, my body resting against the couch and my mind calmer than when I walked in.

 “Do you usually drink with friends like this?” I ask, tracing his face with my eyes. “This is my first time.” He admits to me, offering me a light smile. 

Seungmin's smile softened as he settled on the couch beside me, a comfortable distance away. "First times are always memorable," he mused, swirling the wine in his glass.

I felt a warmth spreading through me that had little to do with the wine. “I suppose they are,” I replied, meeting his gaze briefly before looking down at my glass, suddenly shy. “Glad we shared this first time…” I mumbled, my tongue loosened by the wine.

“Me too. Hopefully, we could share more,” he suggested, his soft eyes fixed on me. My mind wandered to different places, my face flushed from both the wine and the implications of his words.

“Uh huh?” I said suggestively, encouraging his flirty behavior, hoping it wasn’t just wishful thinking.

When he didn’t continue but instead looked at me with daring eyes, I felt a sudden need to continue the conversation. “I’ve never kissed anyone,” I added, my voice trailing off uncertainly. A charged silence filled the space between us, thick with unspoken desires and possibilities.

I sat back, letting the warmth of the wine and Seungmin's presence envelop me. The atmosphere felt charged with a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. Seungmin's gaze held mine, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that I couldn’t read.

"I've… never kissed anyone," I repeated, feeling a flutter of vulnerability and curiosity about where this evening might lead. Seungmin's expression softened, his demeanor gentle yet tinged with a quiet intensity.

"Never?" he asked softly, leaning slightly closer. His voice carried a hint of surprise, tempered with a warmth that made my heart race a little faster.

I shook my head, my cheeks flushing despite the alcohol's calming effect. "No, never,"

Seungmin's eyes searched mine, the intensity of his gaze making my pulse quicken. He set his glass down carefully, leaning back slightly but not breaking eye contact.

"That's… surprising," he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. "You're so…"

"So what?" I prompted, my own voice barely above a whisper. The distance between us felt almost tangible, like a string pulled taut, ready to snap.

"Confident," he finished, his eyes flickering with admiration. "It's hard to believe."

I smiled, a small, shy smile that I couldn't quite suppress. "Maybe I'm just good at hiding it," I replied, taking another sip of wine for courage.

Seungmin's had a tender look in his eyes. "You don't have to hide anything with me," he said quietly, his words a gentle promise that wrapped around my heart.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable, filled with the weight of everything we weren't saying. My mind raced with thoughts and possibilities, each one making my heart beat a little faster.

"I wonder what it's like," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "Kissing someone, I mean."

Seungmin's gaze darkened slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. He leaned forward just a bit, closing the small distance between us. "It's… different for everyone," he said softly. "But it's…"

He trailed off, his eyes dropping to my lips for a brief moment. The air between us felt charged, every inch of space humming.

"How would you imagine it?" he asked, his voice a whisper that sent shivers down my spine.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. "I… don't know," I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. "I guess… I imagine it being soft, and… and warm. Something that makes you feel… connected."

Seungmin's expression looked gentle, running his hand through his hair as if were nervous. "That sounds… about right," he said softly, his voice barely audible.

Seungmin's hand moved slightly, as if he wanted to reach out but hesitated. "I… don't want to rush anything," he said softly, his eyes locking onto mine. "But if you ever want to… I mean, if you ever want to know what it's like…"

He trailed off, leaving the offer hanging in the air between us, a tantalizing promise of something more. My heart pounded in my chest, the wine and the warmth of his presence making my head spin slightly.

"I think… I think I'd like that," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Seungmin's breath hitched slightly at my words, and I could see a mix of excitement and nervousness flicker across his face. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, and took a deep breath.

"Okay," he said softly, his voice steadying. "We can take it slow."

He moved a little closer, his knee brushing against mine. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through me, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. Seungmin's hand hovered between us for a moment before he gently cupped my cheek, his fingers warm and reassuring.

"Just… close your eyes," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, my breath catching in my throat, and let my eyelids flutter shut. The room seemed to grow quieter, the only sound the soft, rhythmic beating of our hearts. I felt Seungmin's thumb brush gently over my cheek, a tender, grounding touch.

"Okay," he whispered again, and I felt his breath ghosting across my lips.

The first contact was feather-light, a mere brush of his lips against mine. It was soft and tentative, a question rather than a demand. My breath hitched, and I felt a thrill of warmth spread through me, pooling in my chest. Seungmin's lips pressed a little more firmly against mine, the kiss still gentle but filled with burgeoning confidence.

His other hand found its way to my waist, steadying me as he kissed me with a slow, deliberate tenderness. I felt a warmth spreading through my body, a pleasant, tingling sensation that seemed to radiate from our point of contact. I could feel his heartbeat through the closeness, its rhythm steady and comforting.

I responded tentatively, my lips moving against his with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. Each movement was slow and exploratory, a gentle dance as we found our rhythm together. Seungmin's hand on my cheek shifted slightly, his fingers threading into my hair, cradling my head with a reassuring touch.

The kiss deepened, becoming a little more assured as we grew comfortable with each other. There was no rush, no urgency—just a gentle exploration of this new and intimate connection. I felt a sense of closeness, a warmth that spread through me, wrapping me in a cocoon of safety and affection.

Seungmin pulled back slightly, just enough to rest his forehead against mine. We were both breathing a little more heavily, our breaths mingling in the small space between us. His eyes fluttered open, and I found myself staring into their warm, brown depths.

I’m a little tipsy but well aware of everything happening around me, because it’s like all of my senses at this time are going to be ingrained in my memory forever. The feeling of his soft lips touching mine, the smell of the alcohol and a slight hint of his shampoo, and the sound of our soft breathing together. 

I can feel the burn on my face from the nervousness in my body that arises again when I look into his eyes again. I look at his lips again where he subtly licked his bottom lip as if to taste the chapstick I transferred to him. 

“Was that… okay? Or did you need another example?” he asked me, his cheeks a little pink as if he was more nervous to ask that than it was to kiss me.

The word “example” rang in my head as a reminder. Did I just let him kiss me as an example when he really has no feelings for me? But looking at his flushed puppy face again, it didn’t matter to me. When he’s looking so shy suddenly infront of me as if the kiss did something for him too, it threw away all of the rational thoughts I possibly could’ve had.

"It was..." I began softly, my voice betraying a mix of shyness and a growing sense of boldness. "I think... I think I'd like another example."

A flicker of surprise crossed Seungmin's face, quickly replaced by a slow, teasing smile. He leaned in again, his hand gently cradling my cheek as his lips met mine once more. This time, there was a subtle urgency, a mutual understanding that this kiss was no longer just an experiment, it was a shared exploration of desire and connection.

His lips moved against mine with a newfound confidence, his touch gentle yet firm, igniting a spark that sent tingles down my spine. I responded eagerly, my fingers instinctively tangling in his hair as I deepened the kiss, seeking more of the warmth and intimacy that seemed to envelop us both.

Time seemed to blur as we kissed, each moment stretching out deliciously, filled with unspoken promises and a growing sense of closeness. The weight of his body against mine, the soft brush of his fingers against my skin, it all felt surreal yet undeniably real, grounding me in the present moment.

My neck was getting tired from the posture I was in to reciprocate the kiss, so I leaned closer to him, crawling into a more comfortable position on the edge of his lap. His hands sit on my waist and squeeze lightly as if giving me a warning.

I felt his hand move to the small of my back, cupping me firmly as he pulled us closer together. His breath hitched as I shifted my weight, my lips moving against his with renewed intensity. The scent of his shampoo filled my lungs, and I felt my heart racing with every touch.

He pulled me closer still, until our bodies were fully engaged. My hands came up to cup his neck, the muscles beneath his skin firm and toned. As we kissed, there was a softness to his lips, a hint of vulnerability that I found charming and endearing.

But as the kiss deepened, that softness gave way to a hunger that I felt all the way to my core.

Seungmin’s hands tightened slightly on my waist, and just as the kiss seemed to deepen further, he pulled back. His breath was heavy, mirroring my own. He looked dazed for a moment before he gently pulled away, as if he had a switch flipped in his head.

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. “I… I don’t want to rush anything.”

From the way his expression looked, he looked like the one that was overwhelmed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and it looked like he was short-circuiting, his hair tussled and looked out of breath. 

I wonder what I looked like in comparison to him, but before I could think of anything to say in return, he got up and excused himself to the bathroom.

As I watched Seungmin walk away, his shoulders tense and his steps hurried, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of mixed emotions. Part of me wanted to follow him, to reassure him that I wasn’t overwhelmed, that I wanted this as much as he did. But another part of me was grateful for the momentary respite, a chance to gather my thoughts and steady my racing heart.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of feelings swirling inside me. Running a hand through my hair, I felt the slight dampness from the sweat that had formed during our kiss. The room seemed quieter now, the silence amplifying the sound of my own heartbeat.

Emotions stirred not just in my heart but in my body too. My legs were still tingling, a reminder of the electricity that had passed between us. I squeezed them together, trying to ground myself amid the overwhelming sensations.

Seungmin had been gone for what felt like an eternity, though it was probably only a few minutes. I wondered what he was thinking, if he was as confused as I was. The uncertainty gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside, trying not to dwell on the memory of his touch, the way his lips had felt against mine.

When Seungmin finally returned, he looked more composed, though a hint of nervousness lingered in his eyes. He paused in the doorway, his gaze locking onto mine, and for a moment, we just stared at each other, the weight of our unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice soft but steady. “I didn’t mean to leave like that. I just… needed a moment.”

I nodded, my heart softening at his vulnerability. “It’s okay,” I replied, my voice equally soft. “I needed a moment too.”

He moved closer, sitting down next to me once again. There was a brief, awkward silence before he spoke again. “I’m sorry, I must have seemed uncertain,” he began, his eyes searching mine as he struggled to find the right words.

“You should go get some sleep,” he continued, his voice barely audible, nervously rubbing his arm. “We should talk tomorrow.”

“But…” I started to protest, my voice catching in my throat. “I’m not drunk, I promise,” I insisted, hoping to reassure him.

Seungmin hesitated, his expression conflicted. "I know," he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm. "But it's late, and… I don't want us to do something we might regret."

Regret. The word hung between us, heavy with unspoken implications. I glanced down, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I understand," I replied quietly, though part of me longed for him to ask me to stay, to talk more, to touch more.

Seungmin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You should go," he said reluctantly, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced himself. "We'll… we'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze as I turned towards the door. "Okay," I echoed softly, my voice barely carrying across the room.

Managing a small, fragile smile, I attempted to convey reassurance despite my own swirling emotions. "Goodnight."

Seungmin nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "Goodnight," he murmured, and then I was gone, leaving him alone with the echoes of our shared moments and the unanswered questions lingering in the air.

I sat in my room for a long time, the silence heavy around me. The weight of everything that had transpired pressed upon me, and I couldn't help but replay each moment, searching for clarity amidst the emotional turmoil.

Sadness, confusion, happiness, desire—all swirled together, leaving me exhausted yet unable to find rest. I changed into comfortable clothes and slipped beneath the covers, but sleep remained elusive. My mind raced with thoughts of Seungmin, of his touch, his gaze, his words.

Morning found me bleary-eyed and restless. I rolled over, reaching for my phone to check the time. It was early, but I knew sleep wouldn't come easily now.

The events of last night replayed with startling clarity. I wondered what Seungmin was thinking now, if he regretted our kisses, if he worried about his dad finding out. The latter thought brought a pang of anxiety.

Unable to shake him from my mind, I decided to send a message:

Me: Hey, are you awake?

Anxious anticipation filled me as I waited for a response, minutes stretching out like eternity until finally, my phone buzzed with his reply:

Seungmin: Yeah. Why are you up? Everything okay?

Me: I want to talk to you. Can I call?

Seungmin: Call? I’m just a few rooms down.

Me: I don’t think I can talk to you in person right now.

The bubbles on my screen danced as if he was pondering his reply.

Seungmin: Okay. We can call.

Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I dialed his number. Each ring felt like an eternity until finally, Seungmin's voice, groggy with sleep yet attentive, greeted me.

“Hey, before you speak, can I just say what I want to say?” I asked, needing to express what was in my heart.

"Ok," Seungmin replied softly, his voice quiet yet focused.

Gathering my thoughts, I began, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my stomach. "Last night… I want you to know it wasn’t just the wine or a passing moment. I… I wanted to kiss you."

Once I started, the words spilled out, unstoppable. “I liked it, a lot. And I know you said it was just for me to experience a kiss and it was in the moment, but I really liked it.” Pausing, I felt my heart race, urging him to hear me out before responding.

I heard him exhale on the other end of the line, a thoughtful pause lingering before he spoke.

Seungmin's response was measured, his voice carrying a mix of emotions I couldn't quite decipher over the phone.

"I... appreciate you saying that," he began slowly, his tone thoughtful. "Last night... I didn't mean to lead you on or make you feel confused."

His words sparked a twinge of uncertainty in me. Had I misread his intentions? Was he trying to gently let me down?

"But," he continued, his voice gaining strength, "I only did that because being with you, sharing that moment; it meant something to me too."

Relief washed over me, mingling with a surge of hope. "Really?" I couldn't help but blurt out, my voice tinged with disbelief and excitement.

"Yeah," Seungmin replied softly, the sincerity in his voice calming my nerves. "But... we should talk in person. There are things we need to sort out, especially with my dad and your mom around."

The mention of his father brought back the reality again. It wasn't just about us; there were larger implications to consider.

"I understand," I replied, trying to keep my disappointment in check. "When can we talk?"

"I'll come by your room in a bit," Seungmin said after a brief pause. "I just need to freshen up."

Nerves fluttered in my stomach as I hung up the phone, anticipation and anxiety wrestling within me.

True to his word, Seungmin arrived at my door not long after. His hair was slightly damp, a sign that he had indeed taken a moment to compose himself.

He stood there awkwardly for a moment, as if unsure how to begin. I gestured for him to come in, silently inviting him to sit beside me on the bed.

Seungmin took a seat, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of earnestness and uncertainty. 

I could smell the familiar smell of his shampoo, which instantly sent me into flashback mode. My cheeks felt hot and I instinctively covered my face with my sleeves. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat before mumbling. "I don't regret it… by the way."

A flicker of relief crossed Seungmin's features, though his expression remained guarded. "Me neither," he admitted quietly. "But, my dad, your mom, what if they really like eachother?"

I felt my throat get dry, I didn’t know how to answer this question myself. “My mom isn’t the type to stay…” I admit to him, hoping he’ll understand me. 

“I understand, but it feels wrong.” he says to me, his eyes searching mine as if looking to see if I understood.

“Did kissing me feel wrong?” I said to him straight, looking in his eyes

Seungmin's hesitation was palpable as he considered my question, his gaze shifting slightly before meeting mine again. "No," he replied earnestly, his voice soft but unwavering. "Kissing you didn't feel wrong."

Relief washed over me at his honesty, but a knot of worry tightened in my chest. "Then why does it feel wrong now?" I pressed gently, needing to understand his thoughts.

He looked down for a moment, his fingers unconsciously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "It's not about how I feel about you," he began, his voice low. "It's about everything else... the expectations, the complications with our parents."

I nodded slowly, understanding the weight of his words. "I know," I murmured, my voice tinged with empathy. "But sometimes, we have to listen to what we feel, not just what others might think."

Seungmin looked up, his eyes searching mine as if trying to convey a thousand unspoken thoughts. "I don't want to hurt anyone," he admitted quietly. "I don’t want to hurt you."

"I don't want that either," I assured him softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "But maybe... just for now, we can focus on us. On what we feel."

He exhaled slowly, a conflicted expression crossing his features. "I... I want to," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But..."

Before he could finish, I leaned in, closing the gap between us. His breath hitched slightly as our lips met again, tentatively at first, then with a growing urgency. It was a different kiss this time, filled with questions and uncharted emotions.

Seungmin responded, his hands coming up to my waist to support me, his touch rougher than last night. I melted into the kiss, feeling a surge of warmth and longing that echoed the emotions swirling inside me.

He seemed to give up his reasoning then, hungry for the connection. I let my hands tangle in his hair as I followed him, remembering the way he kissed me last night to guide me through the kiss.

I felt Seungmin gently nip at my lips, the slight sting of his teeth sending a shiver of pleasure through me. His hand slid to the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair as he gently tugged, prompting an involuntary sigh to escape my lips.

Seungmin gazed at me with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. "I..." he began, his voice thick with emotion. "I didn't expect..."

“Seungmin…” I whispered out, breathless and dazed. I didn’t want this to end now, like last night when we cut it off leaving me high and dry. 

The restraint that was left in him seemed to be cutting down to nothing. I saw as his fist clenched as he stared at my helpless face, the desperation screaming all over me.

"We have to think about this," he breathed, his voice trembling with unsaid emotions, he looked like holding back was incredibly painful for him. 

I sighed, feeling a weight settle around my heart. He was right, I knew, but the thought of losing him even if it was just for now was an all-too-real threat. And yet, with every minute that passed, I knew the pull between us grew stronger, the desire and the need for each other intensifying. It was a dangerous game we were playing, one with no clear answers or solutions.

"But..." I began, searching for the words to convey my feelings. "What if it's worth it? What if we can't let go?"

Seungmin's eyes locked with mine, a steady resolve in his gaze. "I want to figure it out, together," he vowed quietly. “I want to find a way to make it work, no matter what it takes."

I nodded, feeling a spark of hope flare within me. "I want that," I said, my voice little more than a whisper. "I want you."

He leaned in for another kiss, this one softer, more vulnerable. "And I want you," he sighed, his voice breaking with emotion. "But we have to be careful, for both of our sakes."

---

[shima-draws]

Fix-it fics you say. Tell me MORE

Agh. AHGHHH. I had a really fucking stupid self-indulgent AU idea where Sanji eats a devil fruit that gives him healing powers. Generally it's a great thing to have but there's two (2) problems with it.

He can only use his healing powers on others, not himself, and depending on the injury it takes a massive amount of stamina to heal (to the point of being life-endangering), and

It is a highly. HIGHLY coveted devil fruit. Sanji has to be very, very careful about when and where he uses it, bc people have and will come after him for it.

Cut to Sabaody, where Kuma decides to send Sanji to Marineford instead of Momoiro, so Sanji spends the next few days trying to hide out (his garbage ass wanted poster actually helping him with this for once lmao). It isn't long before he hears about Ace's planned execution, and Sanji thinks about infiltrating to break him out but realizes it would be too dangerous. Knowing his captain though he's 100% certain Luffy will show up to rescue Ace, so he decides to lay low until the war starts.

Fast forward to when Ace gets fatally wounded and Sanji jumps in to save his ass. He manages to heal the wound enough that a regular doctor could take over, but using that much power and stamina kicks his ass so hard that he's almost crying blood and Luffy has to carry him off the battlefield. Sanji, being an idiot and stupidly self-sacrificing, waits for Luffy to focus on Ace before he slips away and decides to haul ass back to Whitebeard in an attempt to heal him too. Luffy flips his SHIT when he realizes Sanji is gone and has a panic attack after nearly losing his brother and now not knowing where the fuck his stupid cook went.

Sanji and Whitebeard probably argue back and forth for a few minutes before Whitebeard finally relents and lets Sanji take care of the worst of his injuries. Whitebeard watches him and he's like. You're gushing blood out of your nose rn should that be happening. You don't look well. And promptly smacks him on the head when Sanji starts mumbling some self-sacrificing bullshit fjadnsadna

Whitebeard's like well. I WAS planning to die here fighting since I was in really bad shape. But I guess since this dumbass decided to heal me and I owe Strawhat for saving my son. He picks up Sanji (who has long since passed tf out) and is like okay I'm out! Peace!! And books it back to everyone else lol

Cue Luffy BAWLING when Whitebeard shows up with his stupid idiot boyfriend (who uhhh doesn't look too good) and they all manage to escape bc this is a fix-it and I do what I want. They stumble onto Law's submarine who now has to deal with three (3) critically injured patients (Luffy, Sanji, Ace) and the in-recovery arc that happens after is very stressful but also very, very soft.

Basically my brain said "Marineford but it's a fix-it with Sanlu" so here we are LMAO

[linonyang]

[19:42] bang chan

pairing: non-idol!bang chan and gender-neutral!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, domestic au, college au

warnings: none

word count: 1.7k words

note: hello i am back! here’s a quite messy and somewhat plotless fic (bc i’m kinda rusty rn in terms of writing rip) that i just did on the spot jhsdfjfadsfa i’m still working on some of my wips so i wrote this for now! i also decided to write this bc i relate with reader enjoying being alone lol i hope you enjoy somehow :DD

tag list: @awooghan @hwangsify @xiaoderrrr @cosmic-railwayxo ​ 

© linonyang - all rights reserved. please do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours.

It felt relieving to spend an afternoon class alone after spending most of your morning classes with classmates with whom you had no choice but to talk. To sit on your chairs and endlessly communicate with many of them was so exhausting until the point where you’d jokingly admit that you don’t want to talk to anybody for thirty business days to recharge.

Perhaps, it’s not a joke at all?

You’re finally on your way back to your apartment after spending a few hours walking around the campus, cooling down in the library, and finding something to eat for dinner on your own. You did not forget to buy food for two, since somebody’s waiting for your presence in that apartment of yours.

To be frank, Chan totally understood your eagerness to spend some time alone after your classes. He isn’t the type of person who feels tempted to not attend another daunting set of classes the next day just because he’s overwhelmed. He doesn’t get overwhelmed in public settings easily, especially since he is used to being surrounded by people.

Chan has known you for so long that he understands how you work as a human being.

He always waits for you at your apartment until sundown so he can bring you—in a way better mood, obviously—in his arms. If his last class in the morning finishes earlier than usual, he could grab you away from your friends for a comfortingly silent lunch if you’re not feeling to talk to any of them. He will always understand every time you send a text message that you want to spend time with him instead of other people.

It's really because he knows and understands you so well.

When you push your door open to your warm abode, Chan greets you with a lovely smile and long arms wide open. You drop your takeout food on your desk, walk up to him, and fall down onto him where he is, lying on your bed.

“This feels so good…” you drag your voice, almost feeling like you’re embraced by cotton. Chan chuckles and ties his arms tighter around you. “That project we did almost ended me, I had to buy some chicken wings to celebrate my survival,” Chan hears your muffled voice as you rub your face on his soft hoodie.

Chan traces shapes on your back and grins. “You did very well, love. You really deserve those chicken wings,” he almost cracks up at your choice of reward. “But first of all, why chicken wings?”

You snort and look up. You almost forget to answer him after staring at his angelic face for a few seconds. Fixing your position, you propped yourself on your elbows, your body still on top of his.

“Love, can’t I eat something delicious after constantly injecting myself with caffeine in my blood for the past weeks?” you can’t help but giggle at the sight of Chan sighing in disappointment. “I worked hard for that project! If I slacked off by sleeping all day, maybe things wouldn’t be as decent as what happened earlier,” you tell him. Moving some of his curls away from his eyes, you continued, “The coffee was worth it to some extent, I believe.”

He hums, “I believe I need to monitor your caffeine consumption over the next few days, baby.” Chan raises his eyebrows obnoxiously, “And let you eat more chicken wings instead. Is that okay?”

Your eyes light up at the idea of someone else paying for your food, “Yeah, as long as I’m not the one paying!”

He lets go of one of his hands on your back to gently caress your cheek. “So…” he drags his low voice, eyes glinting, making you chuckle in amusement, “Am I allowed to steal you from your friends for the whole month?”

Chan fondly gazes at the sight of joy reflecting on your face, not minding your last statement. He has been so happy being in a relationship with you. He loves you and your whole soul, and he’d treasure all of the times he gets to see your smile. He would give you the world just to give you the joy you deserve after every slump and hurdle you need to pass through. The world has been rough on you, and all he hopes is that he’s someone you can rely on just to feel comforted and validated.

“They’re going to make fun of me when they’ll know that I will abandon them for you,” you shortly stop there to tease him. Chan interprets this as a no from you, and he frowns. “But hey, I’m going to be with you, and I’d love that more if I’m being honest. So, yes, please take me away and bring me everywhere you want to go,” you finally continued.

Chan squeals and returns his arms around you to embrace you tightly once again. “You’re going to stick with me for a very long time, I’m very excited.” He continues to embrace you and rock you together side to side in delight.

You nuzzle his neck and agree, “But can I do the same stuff after class?”

“Oh, your alone time, you mean? Yeah, that’s absolutely fine,” he smirks, “unless you are okay with a clingy man silently following you around…”

You lightly bite his shoulder in response, Chan yelps and laughs. Your actual answer right beside his ear, “I guess that wouldn’t be that bad, right? If the love of my life is the one behaving like the dog he is, I wouldn’t mind him joining me in my alone time.”

“You’ll never let that dog thing die, aren’t you?” Chan remembers that you’re such a tease, and that’s just how you return the same energy since he does joke around with you quite a lot.

You nod in agreement. “You’re my pet, and I’d love to take care of you. I never knew you could bark like an actual dog!”

“I was communicating with Jisung’s dog, _____! He wouldn’t understand if I speak to him in English,” Chan excuses.

Cackling, you bring yourself up, away from Chan’s arms. “Oh, shut it! You tried so hard to act like a dog, it was cute and funny,” you respond.

Getting out of bed, you reach for the takeout on your table, “Let’s have our dinner in a bit!” You hear your boyfriend groaning and complaining for a solid ten minutes during your whole preparation for your dinner.

When you place the final piece, the glasses, on the table, you feel arms laced around you once again. Chan’s now the one nuzzling your neck, and you can’t help but mumble in amusement, “You are so clingy today, love. Did you miss me that much?”

“I… really do miss you, baby,” he softly spins you around to face him. “And today, maybe I kind of feel the same way as you feel usually, I realized I didn’t have that much time with myself or you today, so I feel like staying with you tonight.”

It is real that birds flock with the same feather. Not that you expected Chan to keep up with the same amount of energy every day, but you know times like this hit him once in a while.

He recharges with you.

You let him stay whenever he wants to be with you for the whole night. Aside from bonding through dinner and dishwashing, you two also get your own peace by doing your own work. It’s a win-win, you once said before, when Chan was feeling clingy like he is right now and both of you are in your own battles—dealing with final exams and projects. You spent the night typing away in your laptops and highlighting a stack of books and ending the day in each other’s arms.

He is so grateful that he gets to stay with you.

You reach for his hand and peck on his tender cheeks. “We’re in this together, I guess,” you purse your lips. “So don’t worry, we have the whole night together as usual. When you wake up tomorrow, I’m still beside you, okay?”

Chan nods and thanks you, pulling the nearest chair for you to sit on. He sits on the chair beside you and lets you put your leg on top of his.

Small acts like this make Chan fall in love with you all over again. There are things that you do that are reserved for him and him only. Those were signs that you’re his and he’s yours.

“Thanks for the dinner, _____,” he mumbles, slowly moving his head on your shoulder. “I’m going to start stealing you from your friends tomorrow, we’ll have lunch together, my treat,” he glances at your face above his. You nod your head and smile in approval, feeling thrilled that you’ll be with him once again, away from many people.

In a world where you get crushed by the weight of demands and pressures, you get to take your time and slow down at night with him. Perhaps you can conclude that Chan being with you hits differently than being alone. His presence is enough for you to feel better, and you hope your own presence can heal him to some extent like what you’re doing right now.

Awaiting by the dark night is the sight of the two of you, snoozing together under the blankets. The skies are pleased with the sight, and they want to give you a night without peril—silence, tranquility, and a beautiful sun to awaken you later on.

When your eyes open, you are welcomed by an adorable snuggling Chan, both arms and legs clinging onto you. You find your phone to check the time, and you decide to give yourself more shut-eye, it is too early to get up and prepare for another exhausting day after all.

Both of you are obviously not ready to face another day, but you two get to return home to see each other, and maybe that’s enough for you to go through the taxing mornings.

[cherrys-fanfic-posting-again]

THIS IS FOR MY BESTIE @adela-arts I KNOW IT’S BEEN FOUR YEARS SINCE YOU SENT THIS HEADCANON TO ME BUT THE LEON BRAINROT IS BACK AND IT’S SEVERE and i finally have motivation to write which is wild

No use of gendered pronouns, no use of y/n or name at all for that matter just a simple slightly angsty but soft/comfort fic with Leon that beat me over the head at like four am. If you see me projecting how i need to sleep rn onto these two no you didn't, haven't proofread because I am tIRED I will fix in the morning if there's any mistakes, anyways enjoy xx

—————————————————————

'Not going anywhere, sweetheart' - Leon Kennedy X Reader

When you woke it was with a slight jolt. The distant remnants of the dream that had woke you into an unease already fading into the background of your mind. The familiar tightness of anxiety winding up within your chest.

Turning onto your side the unease melted away, the tightness in your chest faded slowly with a gentle sigh at the sight of Leon next to you. It was just a dream, you repeat to yourself. One that you could not remember the details of but knew played on one of your biggest fears, losing Leon.

It was not an unfounded fear. He had an incredibly dangerous job, not that he could discuss it with you and if he could he wouldn't. The small glimpses were deemed bad enough, but you knew from the haunted look in his eyes when he returned home, and how he withdrew from you for weeks, even months at a time just what kind of toll it took on him.

He would shake with anxiety when at rest, wake up in the middle of the night calling out to people that he had lost, people that blamed him for not saving them. From the various cuts and wounds that would add to the many scars he already had littering his body as a disfigured record of what he had survived yet again, you knew. You knew that one day you could possibly lose him, and it was terrifying. It haunted you in the nights when he wasn’t here, taunted you when he was here beside you, reminding you that he would have to leave again and one day he would never return.

The sound of his work phone ringing gave you anxiety, you’d listen quietly holding onto a breath as he spoke on the line with someone. Breathe a sigh of relief when it came to nothing or solemnly watch him from across the room as he tried to strangle his own phone in his hand damning the caller for what they had dragged him into once more before quietly helping him pack a travel bag to leave you gnawing on your lip and eating yourself alive with anxiety until he returned home again. If he ever would.

The room was dim as the sun was barely just rising but you could still make out the strong structure and soft curves of his face as you sat up on your side leaning against the headboard to watch him in this rare tranquillity.

His hair fell away from his face and messily parted, you can already picture him fixing it in the morning, meticulously parting and brushing out the strands that had shifted out of form. His plump lips slightly parted as he lightly snored, it was hardly noticeable but it and the light rising of his chest was the only sign that he was still alive as he lay still and stiff upon the the mattress, a habit that had formed from what he declared was from time being trained in the military.

The crease Leon usually wore between his brows, a permanent feature of the bottled up emotions he harboured, was now smoothed out leaving subtle fine lines behind reminding you of its presence and its return in the morning.

Not that he was an angry man, he was the sweetest guy you knew but he had been through a lot, more than anyone should have to go through in their lifetime.

It was moments like these you could admire him for who he was, a kindhearted and gentle man, not Agent Kennedy or hardened survivor of Raccoon City, not even the rookie cop that he had told you about before his life went to hell. Just Leon Kennedy, stripped of all the valour, the man you loved.

Dusted across his nose and cheeks was light brown speckles, not as noticeable from afar as they were up close. A small curl at the corner of your lips grow as you scanned them, he had laughed once when you had said that the sun loves him enough to give him that light cluster of freckles, he had found the compliment cheesy pretending to cringe at it and yet you can still remember the smile and light dusting of a blush that lingered on his face for minutes after.

Oh, how at ease he looked when he didn’t have the horrors of his job looming over him. When for a brief moment he could act like he was an average citizen. It was a beautiful sight to behold and unfortunately a rare one.

It had only been mere minutes that you had spent admiring him and yet as if he could sense someone watching him he woke from his sleep, eyes opening up to squint at the room around him and dart his eyes toward you, observing cautiously how you sat up to watch over him and he relaxed again. It was still dark, not quite morning and not quite night but still he couldn’t fathom why you would be awake at this hour watching him.

He coaxed you to lie beside him once again and you did, sinking beneath the sheets once again and shuffling into his side as he questioned, voice still thick with sleep. “What are you doing up?”

“Just making sure you’re still here.” you spoke softly as you now pressed into his side, your head resting on his shoulder and your hand placed upon his chest gently stroking along his skin. “I had a dream, I can’t remember it but when I woke I was worried you were gone again.” you sounded guilty. The emotions that his job put you through were tough ones, he knew them all too well himself, and yet you never complained, never got angry at him for having to leave, you only worried when he was gone and then worried when he was home for the next moment when he would be gone. It was something he warned you about even tried to convince you to leave him over and yet you remained.

Either you were a glutton for misery or you really loved him. He hoped it was the latter.

With a heavy and contented sigh he angled himself towards you pressing a kiss to your hair and even if he couldn’t guarantee to keep the promise he still made it. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” And for your sake more than his own he hoped that even if it’s just for a few days, he’d be able to keep that promise.

[fruitcoops]

hello lovely eve. ive been having thoughts, recently. anyway wondering if you would want to write something to do with the day/time after a hard day. youve done some of my absolutely favourite fics for like Bad Days (im thinking esp rn of what we deserve (i think thats what its called)) but also after that? bc the after support is so crucial and i think the lions would do so well. any ship!! if not, i totally understand, i hope your day/week is lovelylovely!!

This is such a great prompt! The aftershocks of hard events are just as important as the conflict itself--this ask was combined with one for a timeskip followup to Self-Care, a fic about Finn's bad habits. All characters belong to @lumosinlove <3

Leo paused at the back of the couch and bent, nestling a kiss on the top of Finn’s head. “Good book?”

A quiet hum answered.

“Good part?”

Another hum; Finn pressed up and Leo tilted his head to leave another kiss on his temple. A clatter and a soft curse filtered out of the kitchen, but Finn hardly flinched.

Leo nuzzled against the wispy, silken ends of his hair until his cheek could slot just above Finn’s ear. The couch dug into his stomach a bit, but he didn’t mind. “You tired?”

Finn’s laugh answered his question before his words ever could. “Yeah.”

He picked at the hem of Leo’s threadbare Saints sweatshirt with a sleepy kind of apathy. His book hung limp from the fingers of his other hand, abandoned only two pages past where it had been the last time Leo checked on him. Finn’s breaths were methodic when he rubbed a palm over his chest and nibbled the shell of his ear, just to watch a smile pull at his tired eyes. “Come to bed.”

Finn cast him a sideways, skeptical look. “It’s 8:45.”

“And you’re the sleep police?” Leo hooked a finger in the collar of his sweatshirt and pulled. “It’s been a long day. You’re tired. We can fix that problem with our nice new mattress.”

Finn was quiet for a moment; Leo felt him lean back into the cushions and the cradle of his arm, a slow breath leaving him when Leo began toying with the hoodie strings. “You know, I kind of miss the old one.”

“It barely fit us.”

“Yeah.” Fondness shone on every word. “It was nice. Waking up all over each other. Always had you in arm’s reach.” Another beat of silence passed. “I lose you at night, sometimes.”

Oh god. Leo’s heart yanked—he held Finn a little tighter. “Sorry, cher.”

“Not your fault.”

“Is that…is that why you were upset today?” Logan came out of the kitchen with a precarious tray of tea, tongue poking out over his lower lip as he balanced their mugs on the table. Leo caught his eye and gave a small smile that relaxed the pinch of his forehead.

Finn took no notice of the change, save for a shift to the side in an obvious bid to have Logan sit next to him. “Nah,” he said as Logan took the hint and tucked himself between the arm rest and Finn. “Just a bad day, I think. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Logan tugged the book from Finn’s hands and set it aside, then replaced it with a mug of tea and pressed his fingers around the warm ceramic with an encouraging nudge. “Drink. You’ll sleep better.”

Finn smiled wryly. “Morphine? Chloroform?”

“Decaf. Very potent.”

“Thanks, Lo.”

Logan poked his ankle with his foot and snuggled Finn under his arm. “Don’t thank me for things you do every day.”

Finn went to protest, but something on their faces must have stopped him, because he bit back the words and took an obedient sip of tea. Leo didn’t know why he watched so intently—maybe for reassurance, maybe to make sure Finn was really on the up-and-up. Steam curled up around his copper lashes and turned the tips invisible when he blinked. He gave a nod. “ ‘S good.”

“Of course it is.”

“I’m—” Finn pressed his lips together and exhaled; steam billowed off his mug. “I’m sorry my brain doesn’t work right.”

Once, that would have broken Leo’s heart. Once, he would have jumped to soothe and bent over backwards to fix it all. Once, he would have taken it as personally as a slap to the face. Not enough. Not good enough. Missing Finn’s signals left and right—did Leo even love him, if he couldn’t pay attention?

The tight ball of insecurity in his chest may as well have been a marble, rolling about and looking for something to knock over in an empty room. He kissed the top of Finn’s head again. “I don’t see anything you need to be sorry for.”

“I’m sorry I missed your pass earlier,” Logan said, taking a long sip of his own tea. “It was a good one. I just wasn’t looking.”

Finn’s shoulders relaxed under Leo’s hand. Fuck yeah, Tremblay. There’s my MVP. “Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“What about—”

“You were on form.” Normally, Leo didn’t like it when Logan interrupted. This seemed like a much-needed exception. Logan raised his eyebrows at Finn’s suspicious look. “You were. I know you don’t feel like it, but you looked really good out there. That pass was on me.”

Finn’s punch to his shoulder was a roll of knuckles at best. Logan still smiled, still took it with faux-hurt and a hand over the heart. “Eyes up, Tremzy.”

Logan whistled quietly. “Five for fighting and two for roughing. What would Coach say?”

“Doesn’t count if you deserved it.”

“Oh, is that how that works?” Leo laughed. Logan glanced up at him with an impish grin, and passed the last mug over the couch. Peppermint filled the air, sweetened by honey.

They drank in relative silence, hands and legs and arms looped around each other until Leo could hardly tell where one ended and another began. Finn was right; however nice it was to not risk falling off the mattress in the middle of the night, he did miss the inevitable proximity of fitting three people on a single bed.

He supposed it wouldn’t be too hard to make an effort tonight.

The clock ticked as nine o’clock arrived at last. Leo finished the last of his tea and leaned over Finn to set it on the table, offering an apology in the form of a kiss to his cheekbone. “Bedtime.”

“Yeah.”

Logan took the mugs, Leo took Finn, and Finn went without protest into a brief, firm hug. “Love you,” Leo murmured. He felt the answering mumble more than he heard it. “Your brain isn’t broken.”

Finn sighed, slipping his hands under Leo’s shirt to rest against his skin. “Feels broken.”

“I think it’s pretty great, regardless.”

“You’re just a really nice person, Le.”

“I just love you a whole lot.” He let Finn pull away and cupped his face in both hands, running his thumbs along the summer lilac under his eyes. Exhaustion tarnished his bright edges. “Come to bed with me?”

Finn rested there for several seconds, then nodded. They went together.

Leo had only just managed to tuck Finn into the curve of his body before Logan was there, shuffling under the sheets to join them and reaching over Finn’s waist to hold the crook of Leo’s elbow. Finn made a quiet, sleepy noise and pushed his face into Logan’s chest; Logan’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and his expression only grew more contented when he looked up and found Leo already watching them.

Leo waited until Finn had mostly relaxed into drowsy limbo before risking a thumbs-up across the sheets. Logan fought back a smile and returned it, nose scrunching. Success. Another win for their tally. It was a shit day, a hard day, but they could still end it like this and that would be more than enough.

[fatuismooches]

OKI I FEEL KINDA NERVOUS 'CAUSE THIS IS MY FIRST TIME ACTUALLY BEING ANON HERE EVEN THOUGH I READ YOUR FICS FOR A LONG TIME 😭

Anyways I am in such SANDRONE MOOD RN I JUST HAVE TO RAMBLE ABOUT HER.

So, we all know that she has her robot that carries her around, I hc that she doesn't like walking that much and the robot carries her pretty much everywhere. And with you being her lover, naturally, she wants you to be with her pretty much everywhere. The robot ends up carrying her in one hand and you in the other.

Now imagine if the robot broke down on a day she had harbinger meeting to attend to... She didn't want to go, 'cause it meant walking all the way from her lab to the palace.

You try to convince her that those things are really important. She agrees that they are, but isn't her well being more important to you? ☝️😠

She just really didn't want to walk there, but you knew it would be more trouble than it's worth if she didn't show up, so you make a suggestion... Something you wouldn't do if she was anybody else.

You carry her on your shoulders, all the way from her lab to the palace. You were hesitant to make this suggestion, but it became clear to you that she wouldn't leave any other way.

Thankfully she wasn't too heavy, but the path to the palace wasn't really a short one. You thought you could finally have a break when you reached the door to the room where the meeting took place.

Then you heard the soft voice of your lover asking you why did you stop. 🙂

Turns out, the meetings can take a while and there's nowhere to sit during it. She can't stand for that long. 😞 Like fym, and I can with you on my shoulders?

Yeah, guess we'll find out since you did have to do it otherwise the whole trip would be for nothing.

Oh, and don't worry, she already informed the Jester that you're coming with her so you can't use "I can't attend the meeting since I'm not a harbinger" as an excuse. 🥰

Thankfully no one really commented on it. Childe was about to, but was silenced by the intense glare of the Marionette which was deadlier than usual. And you did get a dirty look from Scaramouche.

After the long meeting, your legs were slowly giving out. Thankfully, Sandrone noticed and was like "we can sit down for a while if you're tied" and you're like, "we?".

Yeah, you're replacing her robot for today, so she just has to sit on you. She finds out that sitting on your lap and feeling your warmth was actually quite comfortable. She wonders why you two haven't done this before.

After all of that she finally fixes the robot and you thought you were done.

NOPE! Now she constantly insist on sitting in your lap while she works, even after the robot is fixed.

But she has ran into one small issue. She likes the comfort of sitting in her lap, but the robot can move her where she needs to be when she's sitting in it's hand which makes her more productive.

But no worries, your smart lover has figured out a perfect solution. You sit on the robots hand while she sits in your lap. As goofy as it looks, it's both comfortable and productive, and it makes her happy.

ANYWAYS I ENDED UP RAMBLING TOO MUCH, BUT I JUST LOVE SANDRONE THAT MUCH 😭

[P.S. Can I be the 🦀 anon please?]

UGH YES I LOVE YOU 🦀 ANON... It is very rare that Sandrone is not seen either on her robot or on a regular chair... she doesn't even need to fight herself because the robot can for her... why would one get up if they have no reason to? Now you have no problem with walking places but your lover is rather insistent on having you be carried with her. It's rather fun! The robot holds its hands close to each other so you two are practically brushing shoulders! Very easy to hold hands. (Only in private of course.)

Although it's rare for her heavily invested in robots to malfunction, it can still happen on occasion but it's not a problem since she's very intelligent and efficient. However, this time she did not have the time because the meeting was far too close. She's annoyed but on the bright side, she doesn't need to deal with the irritating voices of her co-workers (Childe especially) but you aren't interested in seeing the Jester in the lab again for a "friendly reminder".

When you offer to carry her all the way there, Sandrone genuinely laughs at the suggestion (you always come up with the most entertaining ideas) but nope, you're dead serious. You will get your wife there, even if it means you need to cross bridges and endure the biting Snezhnayan cold! Even if your legs and shoulders collapse! (The thing you do for her... at least she's rather petite. Your wife said although you weren't as comfortable as her robot, she appreciated your warmth.)

Ahhh it would be so funny depending on how tall you are... If you're tall she would be well above most of the other Harbingers, literally looking down on them... even if you're short (like me 💔) it would still look really funny mwebfwew all while Sandrone has a straight face and you're dying. (You know, even though Sandrone thinks she's winning by hogging your lap, you can still take revenge by squishing her to death!! You may have gotten a death glare from her but it's okay!!)

Ouuuhh,, i can just imagine,, your arms snuggly wrapped around her waist as the robot moves the two of you up and around all the time... it would be so fun even though you're really doing nothing but watching her work,,,

[sublimecatgalaxy]

♥️ Billy Hargrove Masterlist ♥️

This is a masterlist dedicated to things I've written about Billy Hargrove.

Check out my Prompt List and my Character List in my Masterpost which is pinned for more info on who I write for and some inspiration for requests.

Asked Out: 

Summary/Request: “Meeting billy for the first time? Maybe the reader is dustins sister or something. They could go on a date etc?”

Favorite Pain:

Summary/Request: “prompt 7 and 14;) with Billy Hargrove, do whatever it is you please!!"

Ass Is Grass:

Summary/Request: “billy hargrove - enemies to lovers with prompt 17?? <3333"

Make Me Stay:

Summary/Request: “Billy and the reader having a fwb relationship but he's not really nice or gentle, more just using her and she finally has enough of it?"

I'm A Gentleman Now:

Summary/Request: “the little thing you wrote about Eddy comforting reader was so cute!!! sooo naturally my mind wandered off to Billy immediately and now I would like to request the same prompt, but with him :))"

Not Afraid:

Summary/Request: “CAN YOU PLEASE DO BILLY HARGROVE W THE PROMPT 'I'm not afraid of you.' PREFERABLY NSFW?"

Gentle:

Summary/Request: “can you do 18 and 21 from your prompts list with billy hargrove🤍"

Don't Believe You:

Summary/Request: “So... Can I ask about prompts 2, 8 and 21 with Billy Hargrove please? Like, the reader have a pretty heavy life trying to be perfect for her family, and stuff."

Heroic:

Summary/Request: “billy opening up to the reader abt his childhood, and the reader comforts him?"

Precious Cargo:

Summary/Request: “Following the move of the Byers, with El, to California and everything that happens with Vecna, the reader and Hopper move back into his Cabin in the woods, taking the time to fix it up. She has trouble adjusting, even after the years of being free from the lab, she still struggles to fit into the puzzle that is Hawkins. But with the new friends she's made while attempting to save the world and the object of her attraction, Billy, she begins to understand what it's like to be an actual 18 year old, not a lab rat."

Like This:

Summary/Request: “I'm literally obsessed with how you write soft Billy, so I would like to request a little fluff/angst/soft-in-general fic with Billy and trope 1 (There's only one bed)"

Loving This:

Summary/Request: “FUCK man like imagine eddie or Billy hitting it from behind, hand fisted into your hair or gripping your shoulder to force you back into their thrusts 🤤 or them leaning all the way forward so their chest is pressed against your back and whispering dirty words to you🥵"

Bitten:

Summary/Request: “Billy would leave such dark hickys and bite marks along your neck and thighs so when you wear shorts or skirts they're visible and he'd cover ABSOLUTELY every inch of your chest with hickys 🤤 making sure everyone knows your his"

Backdoor:

Summary/Request: “Okay but a fic of reader and Billy doing anal…..?"

Seething:

Summary/Request: “Billy finding out that the reader gets hit by their parents because the parents are drunk?"

Worth Your While:

Summary/Request: “okay okay, but after Eddy and Steve,, what about Billy cumming too fast ??"

Overstimulation:

Summary/Request: “PLEASE im begging you to do something with billy being submissive and the reader edging/overstimming him and maybe possibly having a slight mommy kink 🙏 this inspired me im on my hands and knees rn"

Devour Me:

Summary/Request: “prompt number 17 wirh billy pls!!"

Purely Wholesome:

Summary/Request: “i love your work !! can you maybe write something with billy? like maybe the reader acted the whole day like a brat, teasing billy and now he gets to punish her and fuck the attitude out of her?😩"

Gentleman Nonetheless:

Summary/Request: “22, prompt list, billy Hargrove, nsfw"

Little Things:

Summary/Request: “ic with Billy where you and him have been in a relationship for a little while and one day you happen to find out that all this time he’s held onto all kinds of little things you have him. Like for example little notes you wrote him in class, or receipts from dates, maybe things you don’t even recognise anymore. You had never expected Billy to do this, yk, cause he’s Billy."

Enemies:

Summary/Request: “OMG CAN YOU DO AN ENEMIES TO LOVERS W BILLY HARGROVE?"

Gain or Lose:

Summary/Request: “Could you please do a Billy Hargrove fluff of the reader being insecure of their looks as their mother is pestering them to continuously fix themselves up please and thank you?"

Feisty:

Summary/Request: “lifeguard billy x reader one shot? Like he’s all touchy and kissy with her even tho he’s at work and maybe a bit steamy? And he makes sure she knows that he only had eyes for her and doesn’t give a shit about the others (moms in particular lmao)"

Twelve Pack:

Summary/Request: “Hi I was wondering if you could write about Billy and reader having the biggest argument in their relationship but in the middle of the argument the reader gets an anxiety attack?"

Bloody and Broken:

Summary/Request: “recently i’ve been a little bit too interested with billy hargrove fics pfft but i wanted to mix two things from the prompt list and wanted to see your take with it:) 22 and 10"

Abandoned:

Summary/Request: “I peeped into your prompt list and was inspired to request a Billy Hargrove x fem!reader fic 👀"

Sacrificial Lamb:

Summary/Request: “billy x reader fic where the reader has this negative idea of billy bc she heard rumors that he was just a terrible person, but they end up being forced to spend time together for whatever reason."

Pull Over:

Summary/Request: “Hiii! Can I please request Jealousy/Friends with Benefits with The Prompts 'Make Me”with Billy Hargrove please"

NSFW Alphabet

[makerofmadness]

Since you already did Cassie, maybe glamrock freddy or gregory?

not sure how Blorbo they are for me but I've had enough brainrot to fill some stuff in:

First Geggy

I just realized the way I'm using "I can fix them" here (I.e. "I can give him a warm blanket and he can see my therapist with me") could also apply to Cassie's blorbingo but I didn't fill it in there fudge- pretend I did-

Anyway so I now know how Little Nightmares fans feel I think (with Six)-

even before ruin happened I found that some takes I saw in like fanfics and stuff didn't really appeal to me. Even without the stuff with "Gregory is the Crying Child" and "Gregory is a robot" theories I found that the fics I liked to look at (the ones where Everything Is Fine and Gregory gets to be happy with his robot dad and dubious white woman mom and gets to be the silly rat child secretly living in the pizzaplex because I'm a sucker for wholesome stuff okay-) tended to make him kinda. Too soft. Surprising given the amount of Gremlin Gregory stuff you find here but like a lot of the fics I'd see kinds. Downplayed his colder aspects I guess. Idk am I explaining this right?-

y'know like his dubious little creature-ness makes him interesting why would you get rid of that :(

And now, Feddy;

The lack of anything with him in Ruin outside of the remains of the rest of his body/the prototype (which. May not be his body but like where the hell did it go then and also I wouldn't be surprised if fazbear ent actually did use a prototype as the final product tbh like it wouldn't be out-of-character for them that was my first thought when I saw him so that's why at least for now I'm convinced that was his body and that his head is still just chilling with Vanessa and Gregory-)

anyway uh yeah I wish we got more on him from an outside perspective here 'Cus like I'm still wondering what stuff like the "I AM NOT ME" quote means (other than I'm just realizing being the opposite of "IT'S ME" but. Can someone who's more intellectual than me break that down please I feel like there's some deeper meaning that I can't think of rn-) and also why he collapsed onstage at the start of main sb itself (though again my theory thing that he in fact was still a prototype and Fazbear ent got too lazy to make another freddy kinda answered this question in my head 'Cus I was like "oh yeah they probably hadn't gotten all the quirks worked out" but- idk-)

I need to stop rambling dear god those paragraphs are getting meaty-

Anyway uh is he doing alright as just a head though steel wool please tell me-

[urfavnegronerd]

dreaming of you- selena

trope: angst because i'm missing someone real hard rn so now its everyone's problem

published: july 20, 2023

warnings: sadness, possible errors (i edited it by myself so i did my best), tried rly hard to use regular punctuation, i haven't used y/n in a fic ever so for now we have a good ol character name that u can substitute if you'd like, alternates from past to present tense but let me know if i messed that up a bit so i can fix it for the sake of clarity, religious themes if you squint (a church, a saint and a prayer, nun too crazy mostly just honoring someone), i think that's it

pairing: oc (amari, gender neutral) x miles (1610 or e42, either works)

wc: 1.7k ish

cielito- little sky (at least that's how my family uses it), amor/ mi amor- love/ my love

Late at night when all the world is sleeping, I stay up and think of you

Time is fleeting, the days turn into months into years and however long. The concept of time is funny because doctors will tell you that you have a new dermal layer about every month. So my body has forgotten and forgotten him. It’s strange because he– Miles, is always in the back of my mind, tucked away quietly for me and only me.  

It’s been three years since Miles’ passing. 

and I wish on a star 

If I were to talk about Miles, I would tell you about his voice and how smooth it would sound 

“Amari,” he calls, reaching out for me. I hum a response, distracted by the calculus assignment in front of me. if I had known, I would have given him a proper answer. 

“Are you busy?” 

“ ’s just a little bit of calc” I mumble. 

“Oh. Do you need help?” I shook my head in response, too prideful to ask that of him. I felt him slowly and gently pad his way over next to me, the carpeting absorbing the sound, and put his head on my shoulder. His curls tickled my pierced ears, the scent of his hair overwhelming my senses. The smell of pomegranate and honey, something so soft and kind to me, to my nose, to my body. If I could go back, I would smell his hair over and over again, to keep that part of him with me, always.  

“I just wanted to feel you, Mari,” the mumbles into my shoulder sent butterflies into my stomach, the same way they always did. 

After I would tell you about his voice, I would tell you about his mind. 

Miles had the most beautiful mind, a painting of beauty in a warzone. A small rose, reaching up from the cracks in the concrete, fighting nature with pure willpower, a colorful muse in the bleakest of places. His mind was the birthplace of such beauties, and treasures, treasures that I will keep tucked away in my head. For me and only me. Something to tell the world, to tell Brooklyn, that Miles Morales was not invisible. He was the opposite. He was vibrant and kind.

“Amari, baby, do you like this with drips?” he asked looking back at me, standing on his tip-toes, his hands smeared with yellow spray paint, trying to reach an impossible spot with no one's shoulders to stand on. I look up from my book, perched on a tattered couch somewhere beyond the train tracks. The light he would use to paint throwies and murals was blinding, he would squint with his whole face starting with his nose and traveling to his eyes, brows, and forehead. 

“Yeah. I like the drips a lot baby,” he smiled something goofy, something whole-hearted and warm, no doubt the byproduct of the love he had in his home. In his heart. 

Miles was soft, too. 

He would lie on his back on the floor, staring at the sky on the rooftop and listening to music. He turned his head to me and stared. He stared at me like I was the brightest light he had to look at, like out of all the constellations I burned the brightest. At that moment, he was Galileo and I was the sky. 

“Cielito,” he whispered, taking the wired ear bud out of my ear and gently turning my face towards him. “I’ve never looked at someone as beautiful as you, knowing how much they love me. and I like you so much that I can hardly breathe Amari, and it's like I have this thunder in me, in my veins. You make me nervous. but also calm, calm from lovin'. Mari, I love you.” 

Instinctively, I blush, bringing the sweatshirt up and over my mouth. Smiling something fierce, I laugh and press my forehead to his. 

“I love you, Miles,” I whisper, staring into his eyes. I had never once been so sure about something in my life. But I was sure about Miles, I was sure about his hazel eyes and tightly wound curls. Sure about the way he looked at me like I was the only thing he could see. I was sure about the comfort and calm in his eyes, a small pearl in our Brooklyn neighborhood. 

I was sure about the way he kissed me next, sure about how softly his hands held my face. Sure about the small and rough callouses on his wrists, and how no matter how rough the world saw Spiderman, he was soft. comfort, warmth, and all of which are attributes of a home. And the more that I think about it, he was home. 

That somewhere you are thinking of me too 

I slam my hand on my alarm with a vengeance, and a seething ache in my heart arises as I look around my room. Sage green walls once clad with photos and posters, now stare back at me, tangled in bed, empty. All signs of a life that were once reflected on these walls are gone. Boxes litter my floor, and shelves once full of trophies, plaques, books, and jewelry, are empty. The only remnant I have of this room being full of warmth is in my head, tucked away neatly next to the memories of Miles. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes and tugging off my bonnet, I shimmy into cargo pants and a too-big hoodie. Miles’ hoodie. Folding up my pajamas, taking the sheets off my bed, and neatly folding them, I push the rest of my life into a box half full. 

I can’t tell if it’s anger or sadness that fuels me, but I push the boxes into one corner and sit on the edge of my now-stripped bed. I stare at the fire escape, the cool metal being the home to several sleepless nights, endless secret kisses and so much more. Memories of a life that’s been loved. 

A surge of emotion hikes in my chest, something that I don’t want to deal with, at least not yet. I pull on an old and battered pair of hightops and hike down the fire escape one last time. One last stop at the bodega down the block for flowers and a bag of sweet plantain chips, lightly salted. One last time to shove my metro card into the reader. 

Waiting for the train, I look up and see the sticker Miles stuck on the ceiling rail. I don't think Jefferson had the heart to take them down after he passed. Memories of a boy was loved beyond belief. Tugging the hood of my sweater over my head, I enter the train and grasp the cool metal. Something to ground me at this moment that feels surreal. Something to hold on to, an island in a hurricane.  

Stepping off the train, a shiver runs down my spine. The air hangs thick, despite the cool summer weather and a feeling of sorrow creeps up my throat again. Pushing it down, I walk. Walk past the small costume shop and endless coffee chains and then I stop. The church hangs ominously over me like it’s betting on me to turn back. To run from this nightmare, this anger, this pain in my chest. 

Shakily, I step forward, swerving behind the building and into the graveyard. Miles is next to Peter Parker, and I huff at the irony of it all. Clutching the chips and carnations in my hand, I walk to the heavily decorated graves. Emotions tug at my chest and prick my eyes. I finally let it leak from my tear ducts and streak my face. 

“Hi Miles,” I look at his headstone, half expecting him to respond in his slight Brooklyn drawl. I half expect him to reply Hi, Mari clear as day, like he used to. He doesn’t. 

“I leave for school today. It’s far, in Rhode Island.” 

I pause, my face contorting violently before finally letting out a choked sob. 

“You know, your mom keeps telling me that you wouldn’t want to see me like this. That I should let it out. And I feel so angry about it. Not at Rio, of course. Angry because who the hell gave you the idea that you could leave? Leave before Rio got to scream at our graduation. I’m not angry at you Miles, not in the slightest. You tried,” 

My voice breaks.

“So hard. You fought so hard, and I’m so proud of you. I just thought I should stop by before I leave. I brought you bodega flowers, and the chips you like. You don’t have to eat them.” 

I clean his grave up a bit, grabbing dead flowers, deflated balloons, and any sort of unsightly thing off his grave. There are a few unlit prayer candles left, no doubt from Rio’s extensive visits, almost all of them being Saint Micheal. Jabbing my hands into all my pockets desperately, I pull out an almost-dead lighter to light the five remaining candles.  

“May eternal rest be granted onto him,” I light the first candle, “let perpetual light be cast onto him,” the second, “for my faithful and departed soul, Miles” the third, “o lord” the fourth, “let his soul be at rest” the fifth, “and let him know that I love him.” 

I wipe my eyes one final time, kiss my three middle fingers, and gently press them onto the cold and gray granite.  

“Always good to see you, Cielito.” 

I stare at his headstone one last time. 

“I love you, Miles. You don’t have to say it back, mi amor.” 

The only thing pushing me to go back home is the fact that I have a long drive ahead of me. I would stay curled next to his headstone for the rest of my life. It kills me to think that he’s alone down there, probably cold. During his funeral, I remember placing his headphones on his chest before the casket closed. His hands were ice cold, the makeup made a poor attempt at covering the small and delicate freckles that littered his cheeks. The finality of it is forever etched in my mind. 

Somewhere, I hope he’s listening to music. 

I climb back up my fire escape and tumble into my now-empty room. Sitting on the floor, I fold my knees to my chest and stare at the walls. 

and there's nowhere in the world I’d rather be, than here in my room, dreaming about you and me.

fin <3

a/n: i didnt finish the get-down on Netflix, but zekes line where he confesses his love to mylene makes me cry every time, i had a really intense astronomy phase when i was little so i loved writing the galileo line it might show up in future fics idk. leave comments, constructive criticism and pointers!! and send reqs! love you goats 🩷

-rae