#i’m heavy on the stomach leg and arm hair because he has to have a happy trail

[loserboyfriendrjl]

hairy sirius black

[makismei]

(18+) thinking about nanami as your kouhai at your shitty corporate job. three years younger than you and fresh to the office, but he’s almost on par with your work ethic.

it’s so attractive, you think, handsome and capable. he doesn’t even complain about the shitshow company! but nanami has gained popularity, amongst the female workers especially.

during a work dinner, you watched as women surrounded him. so you laugh with your other coworkers, trying to ignore the jealousy stirring in your gut.

he’s younger than you! you try to reason with yourself. nanami doesn’t want to date an old lady! you think. it might only be by three years, but after having a horrible dry spell in your love life, you have no idea what to do with yourself.

later that night, though. nanami clearly knows what to do with you.

he fucked you so well that you couldn’t even do anything but take it. legs over his shoulders, forehead pressed against yours, he rammed his hips into you like no tomorrow.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes, playing with your hair as you try to catch your breath. “i should’ve properly taken you out first.”

“well,” you pout, meeting his eyes. “i’m free on friday after work.”

he smiles, “i’ll pick you up at 7:30.”

you both decide to keep your relationship secret to your coworkers. you can’t lie, it’s frustrating seeing women clobber all over your painfully handsome and younger boyfriend, but you always let it slide because nanami is quite excellent at not making you feel insecure.

a few months go by and your company decides to collaborate with another. you’re put in charge of the team representing your company and you’re not surprised to find out you’re working with nanami.

but you are surprised when your ex boyfriend is the team leader for his company.

it’s uncomfortable, he’s flirty with you and no matter how many times you turn him down, he still makes advances. tucking your hair behind your ear, bringing you coffee, making you stay alone in the meeting room with him to discuss team leader things…

nanami is irked, two coffees in hand as he watches you smile uncomfortably at the other man. thank god the meeting room walls are glass, he thinks. he would’ve tore them all down if they weren’t.

he has to be rational. he can’t embarrass you and make the company look bad. but god, he’s so frustrated. he’s jealous. he’s jealous of your history with him. clearly, you don’t like him so he doesn’t need to worry, but has that man seen you like he does?

one way to find out.

“k-ken!” you cry, back arching and legs tensing. calves thrown over his shoulders, he continues ramming into you. “oh my god!”

you’re moaning carelessly, clawing at his arms that are on your waist. liquid splashes on his lower tummy and he continues fucking you through it.

nanami groans. “keep going, baby.”

he feels you try to angle your hips, like you’re running away from his thrust. arms locking around your legs, he thrusts into you with a new fervour.

“don’t move your hips away, my love.” he breathes.

“it’s too much!” you shake your head and he replies by pinching your clit. you scream, body shaking as he forces you to ride out your high.

he cums, thick and sticky inside of you. he groans, eyes almost rolling back. “squeezing me so well, baby.”

when he pulls out, his cock is still hard and so heavy. it hangs between his legs, chest rising and falling rapidly as he plays with the mess between yours.

he’s different today, you think, eyes lidded. he’s usually gentle, but this side of him… you can get used to this.

you turn on your stomach, trying to kneel but nanami tugs your ankles, keeping you flat on your tummy.

shaking your ass, you look over his shoulder and meet his gaze. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

he pushes into you and your first instinct is to raise your head, but nanami pushes you down, plowing into you. his thrusts are heavy, hitting your sweet spot so accurately that you’re seeing stars.

he grabs your jaw, kissing you. “don’t cry,” he whispers, “don’t you feel good?”

“so good!” you reply, vision blurry. “i… i think i’m gonna cum again!”

you heard him chuckle and makes you clench on him momentarily. “you are.”

teary eyed and drool spilling from your mouth, nanami litters kisses on your cheeks and lips, finding it addicting that you’re unable to reciprocate.

“do i make you feel good?” he questions, eyebrows pinching together as he feels his release near.

you nod, moaning uncontrollably.

he grabs your jaw a bit tighter. “can i have words baby?”

“y-yes!” you slur, “it’s only yo—ooohh!”

with his chest pressing against your back, he ruts into you sloppily. hands finding a new home beside your head, while his lips brush over your shoulder.

you squeal, fisting the bedsheets and legs quivering. you’re stuffing your face into his pillow, sobbing with pleasure when you hear nanami groan. his teeth lightly sink into your shoulder as he cums inside, pushing his release deeper with a few short strokes.

he rolls off of you and you turn to face him, tentatively, he reaches to brush your hair from your eyes. “i’m sorry, i was too rough, wasn’t i?”

you hum, “no, i liked it.”

nanami chuckles, knuckles brushing against your cheek. “good to know.”

you lay in silence for a bit, breaths slowly syncing with one another’s. nanami’s eyes flutter closed and you reach out to hold his face. he hums, a smile creeping it’s way to his lips.

your warmth. the love he has for you. it’s swallowing him whole and he’s gladly letting it happen.

“you don’t have to worry about him, you know.” you breathe, “he’s a nuisance but he’s not an idiot—he was actually teasing us because he saw how pissed off you were when we were in the meeting room.”

his eyes slowly open, “i’m sorry. i know i don’t have to worry,” he pauses and your thumb gently rubs against his cheek. “truthfully, i’m jealous of his history with you. i wish that it was me instead.”

you breathe a laugh, “you did not want to be with the me that dated him—i was horrible, you would’ve hated me.”

his brows furrow. “what do you mean?”

“i used to always be upset, i was full of anger. my previous relationships were so,” you ponder on the right words, “lonely and transactional.”

you prop yourself up on your arm, looking down at him. “you love so gently and truthfully, i wonder if the current me really deserves you.”

nanami pouts, watching your lip wobble and tears well in your eyes. “that’s nonsense. i believe you were just seeing the wrong people.”

you laugh tearfully, he continues. “you are deserving of a love that is gentle and true. i only ever want to cherish you in a way that uplifts you and reminds you i am someone consistent that you can rely on.”

you don’t reply, only reaching out to wrap your arms around him. face hidden in his neck, he feels tears drip onto his skin. naturally, his arms cage you to his chest, a hand rubbing your back comfortingly.

he lets you cry, not bothering with the fact you haven’t said anything. nanami takes your vulnerability as his answer instead.

only you have seen me this way.

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I had an idea for a request! I was thinking about reader with a really low sex drive and maybe one day she starts to get a little worried and insecure about it and one of the boys just reassures her that he doesn’t care about it<3 idk if that made sense but write for whatever boy you want to I don’t have a preference love you 😚

How Remus, James and Sirius would comfort you when you worry your low libido is a problem. fem, 2.2k

❥ Remus 

Remus sits with his legs crossed in the corner of the settee, a book open on his thigh, though his attention has been caught and kept by the TV. 

You think some grovelling may be in order after last night. Quiet, you round the settee and climb onto the seat next to his, body turned away from the TV, arm creeping onto his thigh. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi.” 

He encourages you closer, leaning back to give you room to lie on him. His right arm does most of the work to keep you up, sandwiching you to his chest, an almost not quite hug. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“How do you know something is wrong?” 

He taps your back with his fingers, looking up at the ceiling with a sarcastic smile. “What could it be?” 

The hints of green in his irises are more pronounced when he’s sitting in the sun like this, rays cutting in through the window, turning his pale skin slightly tanned and his hair a warmer chestnut colour that curls behind his ears. The scar on his lip relaxes as his joking smile fades to a proper one, a lovey-dovey type that melts you. It’s nice to be looked at so nicely, like just the sight of you inspires happiness. 

You shift off of your legs, deciding you might as well lay flat with your head in his lap instead. He lets you sink down. His hand takes up station near your cheek, the back of his curled fingers brushing the skin just shy of your eye. 

“This is nice,” he whispers. 

“I have to say sorry,” you whisper back, drawing shapes into his t-shirt, the soft muscle of his stomach pillowy to poke. 

Remus nods emphatically. “Yes, you didn’t come and see me as soon as you woke up. I heard you on your phone in bed. That’s not very nice, is it, depriving me of your company?” 

You shake your head into his thigh, a slow, guilty movement. “No, about last night.” 

“What about last night?” 

Last night, Remus had given you a very slow kiss. He’d been half asleep and you’d been more so, but it was a lovely kiss and his hand had been rubbing sweet half circles into your hip, but it still made you feel awful when he asked if he could touch you and you’d told him you were too tired, even if he didn’t mind. He’d just kissed your cheek and snuggled into you like a life-sized teddy bear. He never takes your rejection as an insult. 

“You… you wanted to fuck and I didn’t, I’m sorry. I feel like every time you ask lately I say no.” 

Remus frowns at you. Deep frown, eyebrows pinching and brown eyes bordering sullen. His fingers uncurl over your cheek and cover your ear as he cups your face. “I don’t want you to be sorry. The reason I ask is so you can say no, you can always say no.” 

“I kiss you, and I wind you up, and then I can’t–”

“Which I enjoy. You don’t have to worry about that.” He leans down to kiss you but doesn’t fully get there, your noses touching, and then he’s leaning away again. “Please don’t say sorry. You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

“I know that. I’m not trying to make you into the bad guy.” 

Remus taps your nose with his and leans in again. “I know you’re not. You aren’t one either. Sex is just another fun thing to do, okay? If you don’t want to, that shouldn’t bother me, and it doesn’t. I promise.” 

You curl your arms around his neck. He lifts his head, subsequently lifting you as he moves, his arm curling behind your back for a hug. 

“Sometimes I want more of you than you want to give,” he says, “but it’s just because I love you, not because I need it. Don’t be silly, dove. Don’t say sorry.” 

He presses the heel of his palm to your back and begins the heavy pressure of a back rub. You won’t say sorry if he doesn’t want you to. You shouldn’t anyways. But he’s your boyfriend and you love him, so his being accepting of it is a relief. 

Like he can read your mind, he says, “You never have to say sorry for this.” 

“I know.” You lift your chin. “Kiss?” 

Remus kisses you quickly before tucking you into his neck for a long hug. 

❥ James

“You’re beautiful.” 

You’re boiling. James doesn’t notice, kissing and kissing and kissing, your neck flushed with his touch and his murmured compliment. “James.” 

He tilts his head, weaving in on the other side of your neck to give it the same loving treatment. “Pretty doesn’t cover it,” he says in a rush, his teeth scratching dully up to your jaw, his kissing like nips without any pain behind them as he reaches your cheek. 

You catch his face in your hands and push him away gently. It’s so hot in here you can’t breathe, and you’re not in the mood for any further action. It’s funny. You adore his kisses and James is undeniably a good fuck, but your libido is low no matter how pretty your boyfriend is, or how pretty he finds you. You’d always wondered if that meant there was something wrong with you. 

James doesn’t seem to think so. 

“Sorry,” he says, beaming, “that’s enough, right?” 

You feel a weird sharp stab in your chest. “Sorry?” 

“I’m getting ahead of myself.” James sits up where he’d been lying on top of you, having manoeuvred such a position in the midst of all his warm kisses. He sits back on his calves, kneeling in the space between your legs, a hand falling instead to your knee. “It’s fucking hot in here, isn’t it?” 

“Sorry.” 

“Did you make it hot?” 

You look at your hand on your chest. He’s noticed you don’t want to take it any further, you hardly ever do. You knew he’d see that eventually. You have the libido of a panda, where James is an athletic young man who loves you. 

“No, I mean. I’m sorry, because I never want to when you want to.” 

Your serious tone surprises him. “Baby, what the fuck are you talking about?” he asks. “I am so lost.” 

“Just– Most of the time when you try to sleep with me I turn you down. You know already.” 

“Baby, that doesn’t matter.” He leans in again, only to hold your wrists, two big hands curled around your arms to stop your fidgeting. Two pet names in quick succession is unlike him, and it relaxes you before he’s begun to explain. “It doesn’t matter at all. Just makes it better when we do manage to want it at the same time.” 

You grimace. “Are you sure?” 

“You want me to be honest?” 

You’re not sure. “Yeah. Please be honest.” 

“Sometimes we kiss and you know I want you,” his eyes dart down, prompting a surprised laugh from you, and an easy chuckle from him in return, “and it’s frustrating, but it’s not ‘cos of you. I can go shower and sort myself out and it’s not the same as being with you, but it’s not your fault. It’s just a reaction.” 

“But I feel bad for making you deal with it yourself.” 

“What are you supposed to do? You can’t force yourself if you’re not in the mood. That’s the last thing I want you to do. I’d rather have it fall off.” 

You laugh again. James’ smile is glowing, and warm as he presses it to your wrist in a chaste kiss. “We can do other things. If you feel that badly about it, you can give me a scalp massage, please. You shouldn’t feel badly about it, but still. If you’re okay with it, I’d love one.” 

He presses his cheek to your chest in want of your hand. 

You press your fingertips to his hairline and weave your fingers into the roots of his soft hair, shaking them, nails scratching lightly at his scalp like you know he likes. “How’s that?” you ask. 

“Better than sex.” He is unmistakably sincere. 

❥ Sirius 

“Did you lock the door?” 

Sirius hums. 

“Close the kitchen window?” 

“I did,” he says, waving your hand gently where he’s holding it between you both. You lay straight in bed with the duvet up to your chests and the TV playing one of his favourite movies. 

“Okay. Did you take your medication?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart. Everything’s done. You can relax.” 

You pick your book up and open it to the first page. You’ve been meaning to read this one for a while, you’re happy to get the time, but you’re feeling queasy about something. 

Sirius is a loud guy. He loves the glitz and glamour of life, he likes to go out, play fast and hard, he’s electric most of the time. He can be quiet, too, like you tend to be, but you’re worried that you’re another night closer to him deciding he’s bored. It’s been weeks since you went anywhere, and you haven’t fucked in almost as long. 

“Can I have this?” he asks, pulling your hand to his lips. 

You smile as he kisses your knuckles, barely there presses of his lips to your skin that linger. 

“You haven’t turned a page yet.” 

“It’s hard to start,” you tell him. 

“What’s it about? Fantasy?” 

“No, just a romance, I think.” 

“I like your romances. You read the complicated ones with the good love, like ours.” 

It’s a very nice thing to say, even if you’re not sure how he knows what romance you’re reading. He enjoys listening to you talk about books when they’re done, so perhaps the details have sunk in.

You let the book flop to the side and curl up around your joined hands. “I love you,” you say. 

He curls into you in return, “You should. That was a good line,” he says teasingly. “I love you too, my girl.” He speaks it with a quiet, gentle cadence that suits him and the pet name well. “Lift your head. Wanna see you.” 

You angle your face up to give him a view of the half that isn’t hidden by the sheets. “I’m so boring.” 

“Says who?” 

“Everybody, probably. All we do is watch TV and sleep.” 

“Good thing I love both of those things.” He wraps an arm around you, palm to your shoulder. “And it’s not true. We went to the cafe yesterday after work. On the weekend, we’re going to the cinema. Why, do you want to do more?” 

“It’s not me I’m worried about, Siri. Aren’t you bored?” 

He stares at you. Long, non-judgmental looking, his dark lashes kissing in the corners as his gaze wanders down to your neck. “Is this about something else?” 

“No.” 

His mouth turns sympathetic, a wobbly frown. “Are you sure, lovely? You can talk to me.” 

You weigh each word as you say it, determined not to embarrass yourself, “I’m worried that I don’t make your life very interesting. We don’t go out much, we don’t drink, and I never…” 

You turn your face down, your forehead to his chest. Sirius hums unhappily and encourages your head back to see you again almost immediately. “You never what?” he asks. 

“Never mind.” 

“No, please. Tell me, Y/N. You can tell me anything, I won’t care.” He’s getting so serious about it and it’s making it even more embarrassing than before, but you don’t want him to worry. You spit it out. 

“I don’t put out. We hardly ever have sex.” 

“Does that upset you?” he asks. 

“Well. It upsets me if it upsets you.” 

“It doesn’t.” His hand cups your cheek, his forehead drops down to yours. “It doesn’t upset me. Did I make you think that?” 

“You’re just so cool and I’m your loser.”

He laughs happily. “You’re my loser,” he agrees. 

“The last couple of times I’ve said no. I guess I just worry you want more than I’m giving out, so. I don’t want you to wish we were having more sex, but I can’t make myself want it more.” 

“I see.” 

You listen to him breathing, the warmth of his exhale like a kiss all its own as it fans over your mouth.

He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “Can I tell you what I think?” You nod, and he continues, “I only want to have sex with you, that’s one of the consequences of being in love. It’s a good one. So if you don’t wanna have sex, it’s safe to say I don’t want to either. Okay? Love you just as much with or without it.” 

Unlike him and not to be this tender. You bite the inside of your lip.

“Promise?” you ask. 

“I promise.” 

[mattscoquette]

dad!matt helping his gf after a long day

as you laid sideways on the sofa, you heard your boyfriend matt pad into the room, plopping himself down on the floor in front of you. you smiled tiredly at him, work absolutely draining you today. you were currently five months pregnant with twin girls, your first babies. you and matt weren’t necessarily trying, but when you came home to him with three pregnancy tests announcing your period was late, you two were over the moon. since then matt has been an absolute sweetheart to you. he constantly was checking up on you, making sure you were getting enough rest and water, always offering to help in anyway he can. he was so excited to be a dad. every time you two went out together, you’d somehow end up at target browsing through the baby aisle, finding more things to buy for your daughters. he would come home from work with bags filled to the brim full of little dresses, shoes, bows, anything he could find for his babies.

“hi my little loves,” matt spoke gently to your bump, rubbing his hand back and forth across it, “how was your day with mommy?”

“matt, they can’t answer you.” you giggled, reaching your hand down to caress your stomach as well. being a mere four months away from giving birth, your baby bump was really beginning to show. at first you felt super insecure about it, but all it took was one night of matt in between your legs, his hands roaming all over your stomach whispering soft praises into your skin for you to feel better.

he laughed, leaning forward to press a kiss to your belly. “i know, i just love talking to my three girls.”

you smiled, closing your eyes and relaxing from the long day as matt began to talk more.

“today i went out with your uncle chris and uncle nick,” matt continued, returning his attention to the twins again, “they made me stop at three different gas stations because they didn’t have the nerd gummy cluster flavor uncle chris wanted.”

“that sounds like chris.” you mumbled quietly and grinning.

“then we stopped by the store to get some things for our video on wednesday and i bought you both matching pjs you can wear.”

matt continued to ramble about his day to your bump, kissing it every now and then and telling the girls how excited he was to meet them. he was mid-conversation about how he was planning to cook dinner tomorrow when he noticed you dozed off, snoring quietly. he crawled over to sit in front of your face now, brushing your hair gently behind your ear. “come one, love, let’s get you into bed.”

your eyes fluttered open, being met with the soft smile on your boyfriends face. you extended your arms out, letting matt scoop you up and carry you into your shared bedroom.

“sorry if i’m heavy,” you spoke quietly into his shoulder, nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck as he carried you, “i’ve been eating a lot lately.”

“i need you to eat,” matt assured you, laying you down softly on the cotton sheets when you arrived in your room, “you’re carrying our babies.”

you smiled up at him lazily, watching him change out of his day clothes, crawling in bed next to you in just a pair of plaid boxers. he pulled you in close to his chest, one hand on your back and the other one laying on your stomach.

“do you think the girls will like me?” you asked, looking up at your boyfriend.

“of course they will,” he told you, giving you a puzzled look, “why would they not?”

“i’m just scared i won’t be a good mom.” you admitted.

matt sighed, pressing a loving kiss to your head. “you’re gonna be the best mom in the world, you already are.”

you smiled, giving matt a quick peck to his chest. “i love you, thank you for being so good to me.”

“anything for my girls.” he smiled.

© mattscoquette

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[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter Two - An Understanding

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Contains: No Y/N (Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me. No promises for future chapters though.

~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

The captain looks at you for a long moment, dark blue eyes wide with surprise as he takes you in. You have to admit that he’s handsome, dark brown hair and well-groomed facial hair (muttonchops, no less) flecked with silver, and a nice nose that skews to the large side. It gives him a friendly, approachable demeanour, despite the weight of his stare. His heavy attention shifts from you to the other three, and his expression turns serious. “Lads,” he says, his voice a rumble that you can feel through your own body. “Please tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Weeeel. It might be,” Johnny says apprehensively. “But I did my research, sir. She’ll be perfect for ye, ye’ll see.”

“She’s a good girl,” Ghost adds. “Sweet as can be. Won’t be any trouble for you.”

“Already moved her in and everything.” Gaz gestures around the room, looking rather too proud of their work.

The captain nods slowly, taking in the new additions to the space. “So you did. And did this pretty little thing agree to having her life upended, or did you lads just decide for her?” His arms shift around you, and you feel almost protected, oddly enough, even though by the size of him, he’s just as dangerous as the others. Probably even more dangerous, the way they defer to him, standing in a line like cadets, eager for his approval.

“Not… Not exactly,” Gaz admits. “I mean, we didn’t ask. But this’ll be better for her. She was living in a real rat hole before. Tiny little apartment in a shite neighbourhood. Was only a matter of time before something bad happened. We’re just looking out for her.”

Johnny shuffles his feet. “Dealt with a few neds while I was doin’ reconnaissance, even. Poor lass coulda been in real trouble if I hadna been there. Bawbag employers would ask her to stay past the last bus to watch the bairns an’ no’ even offer her a ride or ta pay fer a cab.”

“It wasn’t that far a walk,” you protest, glaring at Johnny. As if it’s any of his business. “And they did offer to drive me, I just wasn’t— It doesn’t matter! You had no right—”

The captain shushes you, and your words wither on your tongue, your cheeks turning hot under his stern blue gaze. He cups your jaw and turns your head to face him again, the rough pad of his thumb stroking your cheek gently. “Sweetheart, you and I will talk in a moment. Soap’s right about that not bein’ safe, and you know it.”

Your stomach flutters nervously. He gives you a little smile, and his crow’s feet deepen, the lines fanning out further. There’s a moment where you’re tempted to smile back, but his legs shift under you, and you wince sympathetically instead. “Sorry, I should get off of you,” you say quickly. “I’m heavy.”

“I won’t stop you if you’d like to sit somewhere else,” he says, that cheeky smile deepening more. "But you’re not heavy, and I'd like it if you stayed put."

"Told ye he'd like her," Johnny whispers, loud enough that it shatters the isolated pocket of reality that, for a moment, housed only you and the captain. "Hasna even introduced himself an' he's flirtin' like mad."

"Soap!" Gaz hisses back. "Shut up."

Ghost scruffs them both. "Let's finish getting dinner on. Give 'em a minute to talk."

Johnny grins at you and gives you two thumbs up as he circles around to the kitchen, as if you’d actually been a willing participant in all of this.

"I'm John, by the way," the captain says, calling your attention back to him. He drops his hand and settles it on your knee, his fingers curling around the joint. "You alright, doll?"

A loaded question. "Well. Not really."

"You're keepin' it together real nicely, all considered. Wouldn't blame you if you were hissin' and scratching."

"I'm not much of a fighter," you admit. "And even if I was, I don't think it would do me much good."

John chuckles, squeezing your knee lightly. He's gentle, but there's power in those hands, the kind that comes from years of hard work. There's scars all over it, from his the tips of his calloused fingers up to the leather band of his watch, etched in evidence of violence. If there are scars further up his arms, their hidden by the buffalo plaid flannel. "No, it probably wouldn't."

"Are you going to let me go home?" you ask.

He sighs. "The thing is, doll, the boys have put me in an awkward spot here. If I let you go on home, you're going to get them in trouble, and I don't want to see that happen."

"I promise, I won't say anything, I just--"

He shushes you again, and you shut your mouth, biting your lip. "Let me finish, sweetheart. You're being so good right now because you're scared. But that's not gonna last, is it? And worse, it sounds like you don't really have much to go back to."

"I'll find a new job. I always do."

"With another family who doesn't appreciate the work you put in? That doesn't make you feel safe?" His fingertips toy with the edge of your skirt absently, but his eyes are on your face, studying your reaction with rapt attention. This is how a rabbit must feel, pinned under the stare of a grizzly bear, frozen in place and hoping that no claws come down on top of it. "I can read between the lines, doll. That man you were workin' for made you feel so uncomfortable that you'd rather walk through a bad neighbourhood at night than get into a car with him alone."

You can't dispute it, although you're surprised he can glean so much information from half an outburst. "It wasn't like that-- He wasn't that bad."

John hums. "You're tellin' me you've had worse?"

A dozen jobs with a dozen managers or coworkers that took your silence as permission to stand too close, or put their hands on you flash across your mind. Mr. Kinsey was just the latest of many. You know that the thought is displayed on your face, from the way his eyebrows pinch together just slightly, not angrily, but concerned. You try to deflect with a little laugh. "Oh, well. I suppose I have. But hasn't everyone?"

"Soap had a bad lieutenant once and locked the man in his own car when he was just a private. Just because you have a bad boss doesn't mean you have to take it." He looks at you so seriously as he speaks, his fingers dancing distracting circles against the top of your knee, rough fingertips catching on the nylons just slightly. The heat from the arm curled around your waist bleeds through the fabric of your dress, his hand twitching slightly, like all he wants to do is take a handful of soft flesh. “You should speak up when you’re not comfortable, doll. You just need some practice standin’ up for yourself, don’t you?”

If a statement could have teeth, this one would, and you’re not sure if agreeing or disagreeing will have him closing his jaws around you. He’s probably right, you do need to do a better job of standing up for yourself. But you’re certain that he doesn’t want you to start by standing up to him, or his three attack dogs either. “I’ll work on it,” you say meekly. You test his commitment to the statement by gently picking his hand off of your knee, although there’s nowhere to really put it either.

“We’ll work on it,” he agrees, lacing your fingers together. When he rests your now-entwined hands, it’s a little further up your thigh. “You want a drink, darlin’?”

“Oh, um, no thank you.” You wouldn’t mind another tea, but you don’t think that’s what you’re being offered.

The scrutiny he puts you under is intense, like he’s determined to figure out what every microscopic shift in your expression might mean. “You sure, doll? You gotta ask if you want somethin’, or you won’t get it.”

“I would like a tea. But I can make it, I don’t want to be trouble.”

“Nonsense. Lads?” he tips his head back slightly.

“On it, sir,” Gaz replies cheerfully.

Ghost leans over the back of the couch to hand John a tumbler. Whiskey or scotch, by the sharp smell that hits you. John pulls his hand away from yours to accept the glass. “Thank you, Simon,” he says pleasantly. "Good lad."

“S’your party, sir. An’ you’re busy, ain’t you?” Ghost rests his hands on the back of the couch and studies the pair of you, dark eyes gleaming with pride. The man has the demeanour of a cat that’s brought in a helpless little bunny to his master, while it’s still alive and struggling.

“Gettin’ to know our pretty guest.” John smiles at you over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip. “She’s a sweet girl.”

“Isn’t she just?”

“Could I, um, sit over there?” you ask, glancing at the chair. Somehow John had managed to distract you from the idea of moving for a while, but you were still eager to get a little space from him, especially with Ghost looming over both of you.

“Of course, sweetheart,” John’s arm loosens, and you quickly get up and move to the chair.

You almost feel cold, without the heat that radiates off of his body. His attention feels weightier now too, or maybe it’s just that his body isn’t shielding the stares from Johnny, Gaz and Ghost, and you’re subjected to all four of them watching you, like you’re either fascinating or delicious (or both). You cross your arms over your chest and shrink into yourself as much as possible, eyes wide.

"Here's yer tea, hen. And may I just say, ye've go' a fantastic rack from this angle." Johnny hands you the mug and sits on the arm of the chair, leaning over you. "Weel. Ye've go' a nice rack from any angle. Nice arse too. Captain's lucky I like him so much, or I'd've gone for you myself."

You breathe in steam, wrinkling your nose slightly. It doesn't smell quite right. "Did you put something in this?"

"Aye. Finger of whiskey. Ye look all stiff and peaky still. Need a pick me up, don't ya?"

You look at him reproachfully. He sighs and plucks the tea from your hands and takes a big sip. "There's nothin' else in there, if that's what yer askin', ye suspicious wee daftie. A little whiskey ne'er hurt no one." He hands the mug back to you, smile crooked, doing his best to be charming, but he's too intense, too fervent, to be anything but unsettling.

“Got Johnny checkin’ everythin’ for poison, do you?” Ghost asks, chuckling. “Can’t say I blame you.” He nudges John with the back of his hand. “She’s smart, worth keepin’ an eye on that. Know’s ‘ow to ‘old ‘er tongue, but she’s listenin’ and payin’ attention.”

“Of course she is! Wouldna choose a lass withoot a brain in her head. Wouldna be worth the captain’s time. Weel, maybe worth a wee bit of time.” He winks down at you. “But no’ wife material, ye ken. Chose her because she’s delightful, no’ just ‘cause she’s bonnie.”

The few times you’d spoken to Johnny before you’d thought that he was so nice. Laughing and joking with you in the pick up line while you waited for the children you were respectively responsible, greeting his niece and nephew with big smiles. And Finn and Rory were always so excited to see him, you’d chalked him up as harmless. Clearly you hadn’t been paying enough attention then, too focused on the Kinsey kids and your job, maybe. You hadn’t noticed that he was appraising you like a piece of livestock, judging your value like you’d been put up to auction.

The whisky-fortified tea is a bit on the strong side, but you take a few sips anyway. Getting drunk would be unwise, but you’re so tense that your whole body is starting to ache, and that’s not doing you any good either.

“Dinner’s ready,” Gaz announces, untying his kiss the cook apron and setting it on the counter. “Hope you’re hungry. Soap made a cake earlier too.”

John raises an eyebrow. “You can bake?” he asks, surprised.

“Aye, picked it up while I was gettin’ rehabbed for the big fuck-off hole in my head,” he replies airily. “Was goin’ mental putterin’ around Kirsty’s waitin’ for the bairns to get out of school, so Ah picked it up. Isnae so hard. Just chemistry, aye?”

“He did make a big mess,” Gaz says. “Had to wash about fifty dishes before I could get started on dinner.”

“Everyone’s a fuckin’ critic,” Johnny complains. “See if I bake ye a cake for yer birthday, Garrick. Ye’ll be sorry then.”

“Oh no, how will I survive?” Gaz clutches his chest like he’s deeply wounded by the statement, laughing. “I have two mums, I’m still pretty much guaranteed a cake.”

“Always braggin’ abou’ that. Thinks he’s more evolved than the rest of us just because his da’s a woman.” He hovers next to you as you get up, and sticks close as you walk over to the table. You don’t choose a seat, in case there’s an order to things you’re not aware of.

“Pretty sure the whole point is that he dun’t ‘ave a dad,” Ghost says. “Now sit down, mutt. Yer not sittin’ next to the bird. You’re botherin’ ‘er.” He points at a chair, and Johnny sighs and slinks into it.

“Here, sweetheart,” John says, putting his big hand on your back to guide you the last few steps and directing you to a seat. He slides the chair in for you too, masquerading as a gentleman, and sits next to you.

Gaz settles in on your other side, all smiles. “Feeling better?”

They keep asking you how you are, as if the answer is going to change. Like all you need to adjust to the reality of being kidnapped and relocated to some stranger’s house in the country is a little time. Like you’re going to be just fine, if you just get a few more minutes to adjust. “Not really.”

"Ah, don't worry, doll. Captain's gonna be real good to you. You'll get there soon enough. Probably'll feel better once you've had a proper meal."

At least they don't try to make you talk much at the table. They fall into easy conversation between them, and let you eat roasted chicken and potatoes and carrots with some kind of sweet and mildly spicy glaze. Ghost pulls the mask down to eat, so you're able to watch when he goes slightly pink from what barely qualifies as spice. Gaz gives you a little side-long glance, and you almost laugh. There's some solidarity to be had, even in a situation like this one, something funny about how a little more spice could probably straight up kill the other three men at the table. Maybe that would be the key to you freedom: Murdering John by feeding him something full of chilies.

Admittedly, you do feel begrudgingly more charitable towards them after eating. You could maybe blame it on the tea too, which, against your better judgment, you do end up finishing.

John stops you from helping clean up when you stand automatically and try to stack Gaz's empty plate with your own. "No, sweetheart. C’mere." He guides you to the door and out into the chilly evening air. You wish that Ghost had let you put on a sweater over your summery dress, but he had been so keen to show you off, and you’d been too scared to insist. You curl your arms around yourself for warmth, and keep quiet, watching as John trims and lights a cigar, looking out into the darkness beyond the porch.

Fear has morphed from pressing terror to something that gnaws at you from the pit of your stomach. You could try to run for it, but you’d probably roll your ankle wearing the stupid red heels, and you have no real idea where you are, or how far you are from someone who could help you. Outrunning John would be a feat anyway. He’s older than you, but he’s in better shape, nearly perfect shape, broad and strong, that long military career not yet forgotten.

There’s a bench by the door, so you sit down to take the heels off. You’re not used to wearing them, it’s so rare that you have anywhere to go that calls for spicier footwear than your comfortable, worn in trainers.

“Here.” John slides his flannel shirt off and drapes it over your shoulders, and kneels down in front of you, cigar clamped in his mouth, pulling your heels off for you. Smoke curls around you for a moment, thin and blue in the scant light, before a breeze carries it away. He leans on his one leg and studies you, but he doesn’t stand. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You put your arms through the sleeves of the flannel, humming noncommittally. You know you’re pretty enough, by most standards, but you feel like his interest— And the interest of the other three— is disproportionate, too intense.

“I’d like you to stay a while, doll,” he continues. “I won’t force you, I’m not that kind of man, but I’d have a hard time letting you go back to living paycheck to paycheck in a bad nieghbourhood, workin’ for creeps that don’t know how to keep their hands to themselves. You deserve better than that.” It’s as though he doesn’t even hear his own words though, or imagines himself better, because he absently runs his hands over your calf, squeezing the tense muscle gently.

“I have to work,” you protest, biting back a moan. You didn’t need to encourage him, even if you weren’t quite brave enough (or willing) to stop him. “I have student loans, and I send money to my lola in Vigan. I can’t afford to just disappear off the face of the earth.”

He nods thoughtfully. “How much?”

"Three hundred pounds a month to Lola. I know it might not seem like a lot, but it goes a lot further there."

"And the student loans?"

"Sixteen thousand. Not that much, I worked through my degree, and I inherited a bit of money from my parents. But I still have to--"

"I'll pay for both. You'll stay until you find a good job, and a safer apartment." He says it like it's a final edict, no room for argument.

You pull your leg out of his grip, tucking both further back under the bench. "No, John, I don't want to owe you either--"

"You won't. My boys kidnapped you and disrupted your whole life. I'd pay a lot more if it keeps you from going to the police over it. Least I can do is make sure you're better off when you do leave here, hm?"

You bite your lip. Starting over with a clean slate is tempting, but you're not sure you can trust John. He seems so earnest, blue eyes clear and guileless, but he can't be much better than the other three. Unless he was just holding their leashes tight as their captain, and had to let them loose when he retired.

"Can I think about it?" you ask.

"Of course." He puts his hand on your knee to steady himself as he leans across to ash the cigar in the ashtray that sits on a little table next to the bench. "But I think you'll say yes. You're a smart girl, hm?"

You're tempted to say no, just to test weather or not he's being honest about not forcing you to stay, but there's a niggling worry in the back of your mind that the veneer of civility will evaporate if you push him on it. He's nice enough now. And maybe that niceness isn't a show, maybe he has no darker side, maybe it's all just paranoia on your part. Perhaps the worst thing about him is his predilection to protect his "boys", even though all three are clearly insane.

Military is like that, isn’t it? The whole brotherhood thing? Maybe fighting for your life beside someone changes how you see them forever.

“How long did you all serve together?” you ask. “Johnny mentioned that he was SAS before— I asked about the scar once.” You tap the side of your head, the same spot where Johnny has a nasty bullet scar.

“Long time. Hand-picked Gaz and Soap for my taskforce about ten years back. Simon and I served together longer. He’s a captain now, even if the lads still call him LT. They’re both lieutenants, and Gaz’ll be a captain himself before long. Probably would’ve been already if he’d transferred out of the 141.” He gets up with a grunt and settles onto the bench beside you. “Don’t think Simon’s long for it. He’s only still in because he wants to keep an eye on Soap. Man’s a bloody romantic. Live together or die together.”

“I didn’t realize that they were together at all.”

“The way Soap’s been droolin’ all over you, I’m not surprised.” He puffs on his cigar thoughtfully. “But Simon’s just like that, as far as I can tell. The world’s divided into three categories. Enemies, his people, and everyone else. Enemies ‘n’ everyone else can’t touch what’s his, but he’s never given a damn about Soap sleepin’ with Gaz, or me.”

“I’m not his people.”

John looks at you and shakes his head. “Course you are, doll. You’re one of our people now. They might’ve gotten a bit overzealous, bringing you here the way they did, but those lads would do anything you asked of ‘em now.”

A bit overzealous. You laugh, but the sound comes out bitter.

"Relax, doll. I know you're determined to hate them, but they're good lads. Their hearts are in the right place." He pets a big hand over your head and rests it on the back of your neck, warmth seeping into your bones, relieving some of the ache from all the tension of the day. John has a way of soothing that terrified little animal in your chest that would otherwise threaten to kick it’s way free from your ribs and flee into the dark trees. “Lookin’ out for me, in their own way. Lookin’ out for you too. If your situation was a better one, they wouldn’t’ve plucked you out of it like that.”

There’s hope in his eyes when you look up at him, hope that you’ll forgive and forget, that you’ll come around to some kind of understanding in time. His thumb brushes a sensitive spot behind your ear, sending an awful, irrefutable thrill through you.

You’re worried that he might be right.

My favourite John Price to write is the sneakiest, most charming, manipulative bastard on the planet. I definitely take a lot of inspiration from 391780 's portrayal of him. The Rear Window and Neighborly have been forefront in my mind while working on this (Largely because I think my John would have taken a similar approach if the lads hadn't jumped the gun. The Rear Window is dark, so be warned! Early writes delicious dark fics, but that may not be everyone's cup of tea, so mind the tags.)

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Good Luck Charm

[Arcane] Jinx x Female Reader

Summary: Jinx has been told she's a mistake and a...well, a jinx her whole life, which is why it's such a surprise when you tell her she's your good luck charm.

Word Count: 3.09k Content Warnings: A small breakdown Category: Angst + Heavy fluff || Oneshot

[A/N]: Not proofread. Just wanted a quick break in between characters again. I couldn't stop myself from writing for this dork, especially after seeing the teaser for season two.

Enjoy!

 “Alrighty, toots, I think I’m gonna head to bed. You wanna come with, or you gonna stay up a bit longer?” You turned your head over to glance at Jinx, watching as she repeatedly turned her chair partially back and forth with her eyes fixed on you. Smiling warmly, you shrugged. “Well, I’m not tired just yet, and I wanted to finish this book,” you started, watching from the corner of your eye as she seemed to slump down at your words already. “But I can just keep reading in bed.”

Jinx stood and let out a small cheer, trotting over to you and gently taking ahold of your wrist to tug you toward the bedroom you often crashed in. Ever since you had grown close to the “loose cannon” of the undercity, things in your life had rapidly changed. It started off simple – you would spend far more time hanging out with her than anyone else. Then, as things started to develop between the two of you, you began staying the night almost every night with Jinx cuddled up against you as you slept. Even when she couldn’t sleep, you could feel her arms wrapped around your shoulders while she traced random patterns against your skin.

When Jinx had told Silco of your relationship, you feared the worst, already preparing to write your will or find a way to escape his wrath. Surprisingly, though, he was rather accepting. When you asked Jinx about it in private, she told you she believed it was because he had seen how happy she had been ever since you showed up. A few days later, her theory was confirmed when Silco had called you into his office to set rules about dealing with Jinx and her issues with trust.

He warned you that Jinx could get extremely clingy and would get overprotective of you, which you had already noticed she had begun to do, so you simply nodded. He continued to speak of things such as her hallucinations and wish to keep her past a secret. You agreed to all of the terms he had set to be with his daughter, unaware of the figure stationed above you on her usual platform. Her eyes were trained solely on you, legs swinging back and forth as she let herself rest on her stomach. With her head cradled in her palms, a wide grin made its way to her lips as you calmly agreed to take care of her.

It seemed, however, that she had done the opposite, meaning she seemed to take care of you more than the other way around. More often than not, if you were outside of her hideout, it would come across more as possessive than anything. She’d blurt out insults and impulsively pick fights with people who threatened or flirted with you.

Once they realized who they were dealing with, they backed off instantly. The few poor souls who decided to test their luck suddenly went missing, as well as Jinx for a short time, and then were never seen or heard from again. You had learned to come to terms with her reckless and apathetic behavior towards outsiders rather quickly.

“Trinket? Hello? You in there, or… did ya leave this planet?” You blinked, glancing back over at the blue-haired girl as she waved her hand in your face.

“Hm? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about what’s going on in my book. I’m near the end, so everything is getting chaotic.” She snickered and hooked her arm around your shoulders as she led you into the bedroom. “Ah, then you’ll have to let me borrow that book sometime. You know I love a bit of chaos. Or a lot of it.” You smiled at her and rolled your eyes, playfully bumping against her and earning another chuckle.

As she plopped down to sit in her spot on the bed, she watched you silently while you flipped your book back open and sat on the other side of the mattress. Once you had leaned back against the pillows, it didn’t take long before you felt a head land gently on your shoulder. A quick look down let you know Jinx had already bundled up under the covers and shuffled over to cuddle against you for the night. With weary eyes, she peered down at the pages of your book, briefly skimming over the short excerpt of the story she could see.

Soon after, she let out a yawn and tucked her head further against your neck. “G’night, sweets. Love you.” You beamed down at her and pressed a small kiss to the top of her head. “Love you too, hun. Sleep well.”

By the time you had finally woken back up the next day, Jinx had already been up for a few hours. She hadn’t left the bed, but she was tracing patterns and words into your arms and back. When you shifted and yawned, she smiled and perked up rather quickly, sitting up in her spot and peeking down at you. Once you had rolled over to look her in the eye, her grin only grew. “Mornin’, toots. Did you sleep well?” You nodded and sat up, yawning again.

“Yeah, what about you?” She shrugged and toyed with the hem of your sleeve. “Eh, I slept okay. I got kinda restless after a while and woke up, and then I couldn’t go back to sleep.”

You nodded at her words. After a while of you trying to keep your eyes open, you felt Jinx lean against you and tug you close. “I don’t wanna leave to go work on those stupid experiments,” she confessed with a frown. “I just want to stay in here with you. I wish I could come down with you to your job instead.” With a small smirk, you raised a brow and glared over at her. “Oh? And why’s that?” She smirked back at you and slipped her hand down to lace your fingers with her own. “‘Cause I could keep you safe. I could beat up all the pervs that keep trying to get their nasty paws on you.”

A gentle chuckle escaped you as you pulled her further into your side. “Yeah, that’s what makes you my good luck charm. Nothing seems to go wrong for me when you’re near.” You had expected another teasing remark of some kind, though nothing came. Instead, you were greeted with silence. After a while of not receiving any kind of acknowledgment of what you had said, you looked down at Jinx. You blinked in surprise when you saw her gazing right back up at you, eyes filled with a concoction of emotions that couldn’t seem to even out.

Her brows furrowed together. One moment, she seemed confused, and the next, she seemed upset or in disbelief. Similarly to her eyes, her eyebrows couldn’t focus on which emotion to express.

“Uh, hun? You okay?”

“What’d you call me?”

“What?”

“What did you call me?”

You continued to stare at her, unsure of what you were supposed to say. “I called you ‘hun.’” She shook her head and lifted it from your shoulder to be eye level with you. “No, before that. What did you call me before that?” It took a moment for you to recall what you had said a mere moment ago. The confusion of the new situation had made it hard to wrack your memory. “‘My good luck charm?’”

She was silent for a few minutes, which felt like hours with how thick the tension had grown.

“You think I’m lucky? That I’m a lucky charm to you? Do you really think that?”

An uneasy smile and chuckle left your lips. “Well, yeah, of course I do. I mean, I always love being around you, and because of all you do for me, everything seems to go right when you’re around. You really are like a being of good luck to me.”

She seemed troubled at that, which certainly was not what you had expected. Tears welled up in her eyes and prompted them to grow glossy, though she fought them back. “But – no, I’m not lucky. I’m, I mean, my name is “Jinx” for goodness sake! I’m not good. I’m a horrible person. I mess everything up. How could you possibly believe that I’m a good luck charm? I don’t understand.” You felt your nerves spike, recognizing that she was at the beginning stages of another episode. “Woah, hey,” you whispered, placing a hand softly on her shoulder in an attempt to ground her back into reality before she could fly too far away from the present.

“No, I’m not lucky, I’m a Jinx. I’m the opposite of lucky – I’m unlucky. I didn’t – no, please, I’m not. No, shut up! She’s not trying to – stop it already!” Unintentionally, you leaned back, making sure to keep your hand in place. It seemed like Mylo had taken over again, throwing insult after insult at her and flooding her mind with false realities.

“Love, I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” She glared at you, eyes fixed on you in front of her, though she seemed to be staring so far away. Her eyes flickered as though she were reading some sort of script, incoherent mumbles rolling off her tongue. “No, you shouldn’t be… you didn’t – shut up! You shouldn’t be the one apologizing!”

You remained silent, waiting for the right time to chime in as Mylo continued to torment her. Although you had no idea what he was telling her, you could get a general idea based on the few words you could make out in her sputtering.

It took forever, but she ultimately calmed down, panting for breath and clutching handfuls of hair. When she came back to her senses, she found you holding both of her hands to prevent her from tearing her strands out again. Sometime in between her episode and her break into reality, she had begun copying your breathing the way you had helped her practice each time she had gone through it in the past. At length, she sighed and let her eyes bore down into her lap.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered.

Softly, you cupped her face in your hands and lifted her head up to look her in the eye. She shifted her focus away from you, unable to meet your gaze. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m not mad.” The feeling of the pads of your thumbs grazing across her cheeks to wipe her tears away brought her a feeling of relief. Her tense shoulders drooped down after she sighed once again.

Moments passed. She finally forced herself to meet your eye. “Did you really mean it?” She whispered with a broken tone. “That you think I’m lucky?” You nodded with a weak grin. Again, tears pricked her eyes, though she leaned forward and buried her face in your shoulder before they could fall. Her arms lifted from her sides, hands grasping at the back of your shirt as she sucked in multiple shaky breaths.

“I’ve always thought you were lucky.”

Weeks had passed since you had started referring to Jinx as your good luck charm, then it shifted into months, and your list of nicknames began to grow. It became a common occurrence for her to hear you call her “lucky charm,” “charmer,” or even “bluebird.” It seemed as though you were shifting to just focus on positive nicknames instead of entirely pinpointing each play on the words “good luck charm,” though she wasn’t complaining.

She certainly wasn’t used to all of the compliments and the nice names. After all, she had been referred to as a jinx, a screwup, and essentially a burden her entire life up until she met Silco. It would take a while for her to accept what you said as truth, but she had started to come around to the loving nicknames. After a while, she even began to look forward to what you would call her for the day. She had started rubbing off on you in terms of nicknames as well. “Trinket” and “sweets” began to creep into your vocabulary, and she adored the way it sounded rolling off your tongue when it was directed at her.

Soon enough, the positivity had worn down part of her insecurity, so long as she was around you. You made her feel safe and secure, which wasn’t something she was used to either. Often, she could be seen practically bouncing down the halls with a cheesy grin plastered on her face, even if she had just left Silco’s office. Silco and Sevika had definitely taken notice of her sudden shift, and although Sevika didn’t understand why she was so much livelier than normal, Silco found himself smiling more often at the sight of Jinx when she’d suddenly remember the nickname you had chosen for her for the day.

When she’d sit up top on her makeshift platform in Silco’s office, she had to be given reminders in between meetings to settle down. Her legs would swing over the edge and kick at the air rhythmically, and her hands would pat randomly at the wooden planks.

She loved the nicknames, to put it bluntly. She absolutely adored them. Since that night, not once had you referred to her as Jinx. Somehow, even though everyone else called her by her known name, the mere mention of what you were calling her for the day gave her a boost of confidence. Whenever a mission would go wrong, she’d come straight to you to talk about it, then listen with a soft smile as you told her repeatedly how things would be okay and how she’s still your lucky charm.

With how suddenly all the flurry of names were thrown at her, she struggled to pick a favorite. Even so, her energy and overall glee grew daily, even beginning to show in her work. Weapons were crafted more cautiously, produced quicker, and had more expressive markings made by her oil crayons. Sevika didn’t enjoy the increase in enthusiasm, Silco certainly appreciated everything.

He still didn’t fully trust you, though it was growing increasingly obvious to him that you weren’t a threat, and in his eyes, you were there for a reason. You made Jinx happy, and that was all he really wanted in the end. As far as he was concerned, you had his blessing. He knew things could change, but after seeing how you treated her during every emotion she expressed, he figured that was a slim possibility.

As he sat in his office one day, he sighed and ran a hand down his face. The door had closed only a moment ago, and still he could hear the tapping and swaying above him. Leaning back in his chair, he gazed up at Jinx sitting on her small platform, biting back a small smile when he saw her grinning gleefully. “Jinx,” he called out just loud enough for her to hear. She finally turned her attention to him curiously. “Hm?”

“You know you need to be quiet when I have people in here. It’s very distracting with you shuffling around up there.” Jinx chuckled nervously. “Sorry.” He finally allowed himself to smile, catching Sevika off guard from her spot on the sofa. “Why don’t you spend the rest of the day with [Y/N]? You’ve earned a break, both of you.”

Instantly, Jinx dropped from her spot above and landed on Silco’s desk. She crouched down and looked him in the eye. “Really? You’re okay with that?” He nodded. “So long as you two don’t cause any major problems,” he added. She beamed brightly at his words and her eyes lit up. “Thanks!” Within an instant, she turned on her heel and hopped off the desk, already out the door and skipping down the hall to find you.

Silco grinned softly with a small shake of his head. He leaned forward again and motioned for Sevika to shut the door as he picked up a few papers to straighten them.

When Sevika returned to her spot on the sofa, she huffed out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. She bit her tongue with what she wanted to say, but a look of warning from Silco made her waver. “What are you breathing so heavily for?” She waited, trying to rephrase her words before speaking them, but ultimately gave up.

“It’s nothing against either of you. I’ve just never seen her this energetic before, and I’ve seen her get energetic in the past.” To her relief, Silco hummed and smiled. “Yes, she’s certainly been in a better mood as of lately. It’s refreshing, in a way.”

Sevika waited momentarily, unsure of what to say. “You think that girl is the reason she’s been so cheery?” “I know she is. Her name is [Y/N]. She’s known Jinx for a couple of years now, and the two of them have grown quite close in such a short amount of time. I don’t entirely approve of that girl, but Jinx has taken a liking to her, and I’d be a fool to take that away from her.”

Even with her disliking of  the blue-haired girl, Sevika couldn’t help but grin at his words. “Yeah, it is nice to see she’s stable with someone. I was worried she’d drive someone away. [Y/N], was it? She’s patient, and that’s definitely good for someone like Jinx. To be honest, I’m glad they met.”

“Yes, I am as well. I suppose I should include a few of the names [Y/N] has been using to refer to Jinx as when speaking to her. It seems to put her in a better mood, as you’ve said, and I’ve noticed an improvement in her crafts and missions.” A chuckle slipped from Sevika before she could stop it. “Yeah, she hasn’t screwed up another task in a while.”

“Pardon?”

Sevika swallowed and cleared her throat. “Sorry, sir. It was nothing.”

All the while, as they chatted away about her improvement, Jinx trailed down the hallway and all the way to her hideout. When she saw you there, sitting comfortably by her desk in the extra chair she had pulled into the room to have you nearby while she worked, she couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her lips from ear to ear. As she grew closer, she wondered what you would refer to her as that day.

[scoobysnakz]

ok but imagine loser!Miguel finding out that the reader has been seeing someone (casually, nothing physical… yet) and he has to try to put a stop to it while also having to listen to her swoon over said man RAAAAHHHH

AHHH OMG YESSS!!! LOVE THIS IDEA SMMM OMG

loser miguel who can’t help but get frustrated about the way you ramble on about him with that dopey smile on your face. normally, he’d be over the moon to see you so happy but the fact that it’s because of someone else…

it’s bad enough he can’t bend you over the break room table and pound your sweet cunt with his nose buried in your hair, now he has to contain his jealousy as well.

loser miguel who realises he can’t take this anymore and decides to end whatever silly ‘situationship’ you have going on.

loser miguel who starts pointing out all of the flaws he has, whether or not they’re real aren’t important.

“when was the last time he texted you?” he pipes in one day, forcing himself into the conversation, not that you care, you’re just happy good friend miguel is finally interested in your love life.

“i’m not sure.” you shrug, finger idly tapping the side of your mug half full with the coffee miguel made you. “sometime yesterday, i think.”

he just raises his brow with a sharp breath before walking off, praying that you start to overthink this minor flaw. but he knows you, and he knows you’ll get dragged down an endless rabbit hole of doubt.

loser miguel who inserts himself into your life, hoping that you’ll realize how much more useful he is than him. he starts making you coffee in the morning and bringing in croissants from the café over the road.

he loves the little thank you’s that you coo with a kiss to his cheek when he slides on your coat on your way out and the pretty smile that graces your face when he ‘coincidentally’ bumps into you by your house.

loser miguel who wants to know what’s going on when the two of you have to stay behind to work on something. he slides over to your side of your desk, his hand moving over the top of yours to stop your endless scribbling.

you look up at him through heavy eyes, the lack of sleep obviously getting to you. he can tell you haven’t had a good nights rest in a while and he’ll be damned if it’s not because your staying up all night texting your special someone.

“hmm?”

that soft, quiet hum resonates throughout miguel, travelling up his arms and legs and settling in the pit of his stomach. the feebleness of it makes him want to melt right then and there, pull you into a tight embrace until you fall asleep in his arms because the mere sight of you too tired to even ask a proper question is more than enough to make his heart ache.

“your eyes are all scrunched up, mami,” he sighs, a calloused hand coming up to push some of your hair out of your face. “when was the last time you got a good eight hours?”

you shrug, not even bothering to lie to him like the last few times he’s asked. “dunno.”

the next thing you know, miguel has his big strong arms wrapped you as you bawl your eyes out about how sucky this guy is. he’s not as understanding and kind and other guys you’ve been with, he doesn’t soften from your love and he doesn’t stare at you with those lovestruck eyes.

and while you feel so vain and self absorbed for expecting this from some random guy, miguel is practically dancing with glee. he knows why you expect all this, why you crave the gentleness and love of this man. he’s put these standards in your head, he’s the one who has been treating you this way because he’s who’s best for you.

you just need to realize it.

loser miguel who has to leave you alone to finish of the assignment for the evening, as much as he hates leaving you on your own, but the fear of you feeling his hardened cock digging into your thigh is much stronger.

he spends the rest of the evening relentlessly fucking his fist, imagining that it’s your tight pussy that squeezing his cock and not his thick fingers.

loser miguel who comes into work sorely disappointed to see you with eye bags big enough to hold two baby elephants and a makeup less face, not like he’s bothered but he knows how you like to doll yourself up for work.

he thought he told you to get a good nights rest !! why on earth are you so tired ??

“did you get any sleep at all?” he scolds, thick arms crossed his chest.

you look up at him, blinking slowly as you try and process his words. “‘course, migs,” you mumble while waving a dismissive hand at him.

“por dios,” he chides.

sliding an arm around your waist, miguel slots himself into the chair next to yours. you let yourself relax against him, your head nuzzling into the warmth of his chest and eyes flickering shut.

“couldn’t sleep.”

how badly he wants to pull you into his lap and let you curl up like a little kitten as you fall asleep clinging onto him like your life depends on it.

he lifts a large hand to smooth the crinkles in your shirt, smiling smugly as you let out a content sigh. “was thinking ‘bout what you’d been saying, how he isn’t good enough because he isn’t nice and stuff,” you admit scornfully, “and started thinking ‘bout things i shouldn’t.”

miguel nods, trying to pay attention to what you’re saying while also attempting to suppress his erection. “mami, you shouldn’t have been thinking about silly things so late, you need your sleep.”

loser miguel who loves the way you cling to him, sleepy mumbling an abundance of apologies as you nuzzle your head into his chest and stare up at him with those fatigued doe eyes.

he’s so grateful that it’s too early for anyone else to be in the lab otherwise he’s be too nervous to be holding you so close. he’s still trying to handle the glares he gets when he holds the door open for you.

loser miguel who whispers sweet words of reassurance as you start to bawl your eyes out all over again. you’re a blabbering mess with reddened eyes and puffy lips that he just can’t resist.

he leans down, face inches away from yours, and breathes in the comfortingly sweet scent of your perfume that he’s grown so accustomed to.

“why won’t he do all the things you say he should? how am i so clueless that i didn’t even realise he should?” you sob helplessly, “you’re always so sweet to me, why can’t he?”

“awww, poor chica,” he coos huskily. the warmth of his voice soothes you slightly, it’s like warm honey trickling past his perfect lips and dripping into your ears until all you can hear is the low rumble of his accent.

loser miguel whose heart nearly stops when you kiss him. never in a million years did he expect you to make the first move. every time he’s fantasised about it, he’d always been the one to pull you in, press you against the wall, whatever it is he’s the bold one.

but now your soft lips are pressed against his and all he can think about is how sickly sweet they taste.

his hand cups the back of your head, feeling the shape of your scalp and the softness of your hair. greedily, he deepens the kiss, cock straining against the seam of his pants. his tongue pushes itself into your mouth, hastily taking in the flavour of you as his desire for you deepens.

loser miguel who is panting and bewildered when you pull away, fingers curling up into the muscle of his chest.

“i was trying to kiss your cheek.”

loser miguel master list

[necstasy]

biting; blood licking; unprotected p n v; fem!r; & LEE MDNI 18+

lee sinks his teeth into your shoulder and the sting is briefly shrouded by the pleasure. you expect the pain to lessen with each rock of his hips into yours. you expect him to only leave a mark and then let your skin be. but the feeling of his teeth only becomes more prominent against your skin, until you’re moaning out uncomfortably.

“lee.” you try to pull your arm away but he holds it down with one hand. his hips are weighted as they press into yours, keeping your stomach flat against the mattress. “lee, what’re you doing?”

you don’t mean to sound as scared as you do, but your voice begins to tremble as hot tears sting behind your eyes. while you seriously aren’t sure about his intentions, they don’t feel lighthearted. he has his teeth dug into you with purpose and it hurts.

he’s scaring you.

lee may be skinny, but right now he’s strong. he keeps you at his mercy until he draws blood, and it’s only then that his grip lessens. he pulls away from the skin on your shoulder with a smack.

“relax, pretty girl,” he tells you, his voice smooth and sweet, yet as heavy as his hips. the image of molasses enters your brain upon hearing it.

“‘m not gonna hurt you.” he kisses the center of your tender skin and then moves the form of affection around to each teeth mark, as if he’s attempting to kiss it better.

he pulls off of you completely and uses his hands on your hips to encourage you to turn around. when you stare up at him with teary eyes, he runs his thumb over your cheekbone and cups your cheek.

“why’re you crying?”

your legs fall back open and lee lines himself up again. you begin to speak around a sigh whenever lee sinks into you.

“it hurts, lee.”

he leans down and presses his lips to your forehead as his thrusts, strong and firm, begin to push you up the bed.

“‘m sorry, pretty girl, i’m sorry. it’ll just leave a little mark, that’s all. let everyone know you’re mine.” his faded pink hair tickles your nose as he turns his head to kiss the mark. there must be blood still trickling out because you feel the warmth of his tongue on the spot soon after.

“that’s what you want, isn’t it? for everyone to know you’re mine?”

you nod without hesitance.

lee grins and you can’t help but mirror it.

“‘atta girl.”

there’s a beat.

“now you gotta give me one. right here,” he lifts a hand to point to his left shoulder. “a matching one.”

sensing your hesitance, he smiles. “c’mon, don’t be shy. here, i’ll make it easy for you.” he presses his palm into the pillow under your head and begins to fuck you with determination.

his hips knock into yours, allowing you to feel the bone of his pelvis as it protrudes. with each thrust, his cock massages against a spot that makes your mouth fall open.

“there we go,” lee distantly praises. he starts to go a little harder, if even possible. a little faster, too, until you’re making an embarrassing amount of noise and, like he wanted, you clamp your teeth down onto his shoulder.

“there we go,” he repeats. “just bite down, baby. you won’t be hurting me. promise.”

when his free hand begins to circle your clit with fast movements, you have no choice but to sink your teeth into lee’s shoulder.

you don’t even know if he was close before, but by the time you’ve drew blood and you’re clamping down onto his dick with the beginning shocks of an orgasm, lee shudders and groans as he cums up into you.

he’s murmuring phrases that you know are intended to bring you both down. he’s collapsed onto you by now, removing the hand from your clit and using it to stroke your hair.

he rolls over, pulling you with him, and circling his arms around your back. he strokes the skin there with short and comforting lines. your teeth are off of his shoulder by now, but you can’t stop looking at the mark.

it lines up on your shoulders, mirrored in nature, and you have the strongest urge to see it in a reflection. you want to see how your marks differ. you want to see the evidence of your identification on each other. you want to fast forward time and see how they’ll heal, as you hope that the marks will stay.

but right now, exhaustion pulls at your eyes. you want to take a shower, but you’re finding it easier to be filthy the longer you’re with lee.

just before you fall asleep, you feel the firm press of lee’s lips against your bite mark, recognize the exaggerated smack of the action, and hear his final praise.

“you did so good for me. getting better and better each time.”

you can’t question his words as your eyes fall closed.

[planetpedri]

Pau with a girlfriend who has a condition who makes her faint a lot? I feel like he’d be so attentive and caring

I can and I will — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: Having extremely low blood pressure was the norm for you, but ever since you started dating Pau, he’d taken it more seriously than you had. And you loved him for it.

Word count: 700+

Disclaimer/s: Mentions of fainting , low blood pressure , accidents that’s happened from the condition , ect.

A/N: I didn’t want to write about something I couldn’t capture accurately buttt I used to have very low blood pressure and would faint because of it so I just went with this …

Pau was very… attentive. He noticed the slightest wobble in your step, the way your eyes seemed to go dull, or when you’d heat up. He’d taken every precaution to assure you wouldn’t faint. He worried a lot, and you hated to make him stress so much.

It was a particularly hot summer day, so the two of you decided it was best to stay inside. Pau had set his bedroom in the specific way you liked, almost like a cocoon of pillows and blankets. You’d planned on binge watching the new season of your favorite show, but you’d forgotten one simple thing.

“Shit.” You grumble, turning to your boyfriend. “I need to go get water.”

Pau nods in understanding, concern flashing across his face. “You sure you wanna go get it? I don’t mind—“

“Pau, babe.” You groan, “i’m fine. Sit back, chill out.”

Sometimes his protectiveness agitated you. It made you feel like you couldn’t do anything, despite knowing he didn’t mean to make you feel that way. You knew your words may have hurt him, so you compensate by placing a quick and tender kiss to his lips.

Sliding your legs over the side of the bed, you stand. Too quick. Your vision zooms in and out, spotting all around. Great. You were too slow to sit back down, your knees giving out beneath you.

Before you could fall, you feel Pau’s arms wrap around your torso, successfully stopping your tumble. “I told you I should’ve..” He trails off with a grumble, pushing the hair from your face as you collect your breathing.

“Don’t rub it in.” You grumble, the nauseating feeling pooling in your stomach as you allow yourself to slump into his arms.

“Lay down, i’ll go get you water and some crackers.” Pau frowns, planting a kiss to your forehead. He did that a lot, you’d noticed it was his way of checking your temperature without being obvious. “And some ibuprofen.”

Weakly climbing back into your cocoon, you toss the fuzzy blanket aside to let your body cool down. Your eyes remain closed even when you hear Pau’s heavy footsteps coming closer.

“Sit up.” He urges quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed with a glass of ice water and medicine in his hands, and crackers tucked under his arm.

You do as told, rubbing your temples. “What would I do without you?”

“Hit your head on a sharp object? Oh wait, you actually have already done that before.” He quips, the corner of his lip twitching, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Ha ha.” You mumble, taking the water and pills gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Always.” He says, giving you a genuine, but short smile. Every time you fainted or came close to it, he felt his heart stop. Sometimes, he felt like he could faint from concern.

Once you take the pills and drink your water, you get comfortable again with Pau climbing onto the bed beside you. He pulls you half way onto his chest, pressing play on the TV.

While you munch away and regain your strength, Pau’s fingers play with your hair, tucking strands behind your ear and repeating the soothing motion. When you finally feel better, you glance up at him.

“I love you, y’know that, right?”

Pau tilts his head down to meet your gaze, a smile forming. “Of course I do. I love you, too.”

Your lips form a tight lipped, almost shameful, smile, “I feel bad, you shouldn’t have to baby me. I should’ve thought about this stuff before we got into bed.”

“Hey,” his eyebrows furrow, “you don’t always have to do things on your own. I’m your boyfriend, I love you, and If I can help, I will. Always.”

You couldn’t control yourself. You loved this boy more than anything in the world. Setting your half eaten bag of crackers aside, you roll on top of him, placing kisses all across his face. All the while, you murmur dozens of ‘I love you’s’.

Pau chuckles through your burst of affection, putting a stop to it only so his hands could cup your cheeks. He pulls your face to his lips, greeting yours in a long, warm kiss.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any pau related posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby @unx100to !

[tired-biscuit]

have we considered...werewolf farmhand kiba...he likes being out in the wilderness with space to roam...he's big and strong and can do all the heavy lifting...he and akamaru would be perfect guard dogs for livestock.............he could breed the farmers daughter under the full moon................

cw: monsterfucking, breeding, pregnancy

oh god wait, now i’m thinking that since he’s part wild beast, he has a bit of trouble with understanding certain social cues from time to time, which leads him to stare at you like you’re something to eat while he works.

just this unmoving and completely unashamed leering that almost feels like borderline eye-fucking at certain points; especially during the summer, when your clothes are shorter and you start showing more skin.

you catch him doing it often, and while most people would simply look away after being caught, he’s not technically people, now is he? so he just keeps looking, and looking, and looking — dragging his dark brown eyes with their unnaturally thin slits for pupils up and down your legs, arms, the thin sliver of exposed skin on your stomach… all until you visibly start to squirm a little bit in response to all the attention you’re getting and he feels this strong sense of satisfaction rushing through his chest because of it.

but overall, he’s pretty sweet! while he may come across as intense and broody with his overly-rugged appearance and sharp teeth, he’s actually cute and perhaps even blushy whenever you praise him for a job well done and step onto the tips of your toes to ruffle his hair. he tries to pretend like it’s nothing, grunting something about how you’re distracting him from his work and that your dad is going to make him pay for it, even though he’s leaning further into your touch, silently begging for more.

sooner than later, curiosity gets the best of you and you start fooling around with him. however, he doesn’t dare step foot inside the house where his boss sleeps, so you have to keep sneaking out into the woods with him at night just so that you can explore each other’s bodies a little.

the forest can be scary when night falls, but you feel safe with him. he’s big and strong and extremely affectionate now that he’s bonded with you. besides that, he’s familiar with the trees and the soft grass that sways in the breeze, as well as all the creatures that lurk in the dark. you can trust him to get you back home safely, even if he has to watch you slip past your front door from a distance.

everything goes well for the first couple of months, but then you decide that you want him when he’s very close to his transformation, and all of a sudden your pussy ends up stretched and stuffed full with his knot; potent and hot werewolf cum steadily filling your womb. he’s lost control of himself and now he’s snarling and growling into your ear, breeding you like an animal. poor, poor you.

the cravings you begin to experience after that are not normal. you want your meat served practically raw and seem to remain completely insatiable no matter how many times he lets you sit on his cock. and god, your patience… there isn’t any of it left. you’re pure rage, feeling this endless urge to just sink your teeth into something and tear it right apart.

and what you also are, is pregnant with his pup. it shows in your scent, which consequently makes him incapable to work on the farm since he becomes aggressively protective whenever he’s near you and fails to listen to any sort of reason whatsoever.

you’ve got quite a problem on your hands. he could kill someone if they got too close.

[slvt4conniee]

Say Sorry, Y/N.

Character: Sanemi (Demon Slayer)

a/n: we all know how easily upset he gets and i love me a lil sumn mean🤭🤭.

Tw:: Heavy Choking, MeanDom!Sanemi, Brat!Reader, Some fluff if you squint, Degrading, Roughness/Aggressive, Slapping. (Everything is consented)

-

“sanemi, it’s not even that serious my nigga. you bitchin’ bout sum that don’t even affect you.” you barked, staring dead in your boyfriends evil glare. his eye twitching at what was being said to him.

“the fuck did you just say to me?” he says lowly, clenching his fists into a ball. his veins visable from his arms up to his neck.

“i said what i said. if there’s a problem we can fix it.” you knew you were pressing his buttons and you were slightly terrified but you had to hide it so he would take you more seriously.

his glare got more dark, his chest rising up and down slowly and it anticipated your blood to see what he was gonna do next. in an instant, his hands were wrapped around the base of your throat, he aggressively squeezed forcing a peep between your two toned lips.

“say sorry, y/n.” he whispers, staring at your eyes.

“nah, you know i’m right.” you said confidently, your hand barely wrapping around your boyfriends forearm.

“oh really?” he smirks, eye twitching while doing so. his hand not leaving your throat as he dragged you (not literally) towards the bedroom you shared, stumbling on your own feet.

“say sorry, y/n” he said once more, placing you onto the bed.

you stayed silent, eyebrows furrowed with your hand still on his forearm. he rose his eyebrows waiting for your response.

he rubs his lower body against your crotch, pushing his dick against you. you yelped at the sensation, the grip from your hand on his forearm loosening.

“n-no.” you said semi-confidently and once again he thrusted his clothed dick against your clothed crotch. you could feel his dick pressing against you, the feeling in your stomach getting more powerful at the feeling of seeing sanemi angry. the butterflies you had were controlling your entire body.

“if you want me to apologize, you gotta fuck it out of me.” you smirked, toying with his emotions. you knew what you were setting yourself up for and he was down for a challenge.

“bet.” he smirks, letting go of your neck and taking your leopard print pjs and undergarments off. his mouth getting straight to work and so did your back. you arched upwards as you felt sanemi’s tongue gliding straight on your clit, his mouth sucking on your pussy as his head moves side to side rapidly. you grab his white hair loving how he’s making you feel but he slaps your hand hard, hard enough for you to say ‘ow’ but get pleasure from the pain.

he grabs your clit between his teeth, licking and sucking on your pussy over and over in the right spots. you couldn’t help but moan at his amazing pussy eating skills. he moved down towards your hole, sticking his tongue in and out while moving the tip of it up and down. you let out a muffled moan, not wanting to show him how much power he has over you. you bit down on your finger, rolling your eyes as he used his thumb in a circular motion to play with your clit.

“s-sanemi-“ you groaned, legs trembling with each lick he gave you. he knew you were about to cum, so he stopped. spitting on your pussy and using it as a lubricate to fuck you with his fingers. your pussy contracted on his thick fingers and before you knew it you felt the whole world come crashing on you till it didn’t. he pulled his fingers out placing them on the inside of your mouth.

“you gon’ say sorry?”

you shook your head side to side not having the opportunity to speak because of his fingers in your mouth.

he picked your body up, flipping you on your stomach. you saw where this was going and he really knows how to get you. he knows how much backshots make you feel and how much you wish you couldn’t control your mouth but sadly—in this position? you can’t.

without a warning he slips himself inside of your pussy, you moan, loud. pretty sure it was loud enough that your neighbor obani could probably hear you. you already felt yourself getting ready to apologize when his dick rubbed against your g-spot, filling up any space within your gummy walls.

“when you gon say it y/n” he taunts, gripping your hips and smacking your ass hard, leaving you with a loud yelp.

“i-i’m not!” you responded, your eyes rolling back not under your control.

he sighs, putting one leg up as his dick angled differently hitting a spot that fuzzed your mind. forgetting the entire situation. you felt your stomach getting a pool of pleasure and butterflies.

“fucking me so good..” you whispered, your ass recoiling into your boyfriends.

he speeds up, not wanting to hear that answer. your moans were on the beat of his thrusts against your ass. body slightly trembling as you gripped the sheets and your feet curling. you placed your face in the pillow, drool soaking a spot on the pillow as you felt hazy and not able to focus from the pleasure.

“i’m–i’m sorry! im sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m so fucking sorry, fuckk” you begged, feeling your body crashing down and shutting out. sanemi still fucks you through your high as he felt his coming to approach. he grunts and pulls out jerking his seed on your back, seeing your body tremble from the powerful orgasm you had. sanemi smacked your ass, hovering over you as your eyes were closed. he gave your cheek and nose a little kiss.

“we both got what we wanted, fucking brat” he laughs, going to the bathroom to get a clean towel to wipe off your back.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Be Still, Be Soft (Male!Reader x Geralt of Rivia)

@jayfeather965 Follow up on touch starved Geralt. Setting: deep winter at Kaer Morhen. Geralt is sitting in his bf’s lap. With bf’s legs around his torso so that Geralt can rest his head on his bf’s chest. And bf starts to give Geralt a neck rub. (I’m completely sure that Geralt doesn’t know what a neck rub is)

Not many people realize just how studious Geralt is.

Though perhaps this is less due to preconception, and more due to simply never getting to see him with a book in hand.

But the man is not only educated, but tends to enjoy learning information. He's a reader when he can get his hands on a book.

Currently he's studying up on Vesemir's most current edition of the bestiary he's been working on.

Geralt only really relaxes in these deep winter days, when it's a struggle even to leave Kaer Morhen for the courtyard.

The keep is well-heated, but Geralt always suggests that you huddle together for warmth because even now, even after he has told you he loves you and admitted to his brother witchers that you are his, he needs an excuse to hold you close.

You sit on the bed, patting the space between your legs, as you grab one of the books Eskel had brought for you from the Path.

Geralt gingerly sits cross-legged between your legs, awkward and stiff, and you chuckle.

"Lean back."

"I'm heavy."

"Oh? I never noticed." You roll your eyes. He scoffs and slowly leans back, his head on your chest, his broad shoulders against your stomach.

He shifts slightly, ensuring you're comfortable and his weight isn't settled on you uncomfortably, and you gently wrap your legs around him, allowing him to sort of tuck your thighs under his arms.

"Nice?" you ask.

He gives a sound partway between a hum and a growl. Definitely not a purr, not at all.

You both read for a while, before you just can't help but smile at how relaxed Geralt feels against you.

His back is literally to you, and there is no sign of tension.

"Geralt?"

"Hmmm?"

"Have you ever had a neck rub?"

He pauses. "A what?"

"You know... where I rub your neck."

Geralt snorts. "Yeah, I sort of figured that part out. Is this... something people do?"

"Yes. Like a massage, but... informal?"

"I see. I suppose... that might be... nice."

You grin and gently reach around Geralt's shoulders to unlace his shirt.

Geralt tries to continue reading, but you can feel him shudder.

You gently push the neck of his shirt aside and slowly begin to rub his neck and shoulders.

Geralt has started to make those low groans of enjoyment, and you start to increase the pressure a little.

Vesemir's bestiary flutters to the ground, as Geralt lets out a sound greatly resembling a moan.

"Can I take out your hair tie?"

"Yes." Geralt almost snaps, eyes shut. His body seems unsure how to process what he's feeling - it's almost hilarious.

You expand his neck rub to a shoulder rub and scalp massage, and Geralt just falls completely limp, relaxed and not resisting at all. His head is completely against your chest, making it somewhat hard to continue.

"I love you so much, Geralt." You smile softly, leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

"Hnnnnnnniluvyoo." Geralt slurs his words, just utterly relaxed.

You laugh this time, and lean back, safe and secure with your Witcher.

Brought low by a simple neck rub.

[phoward89]

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2:

It was nearing dusk (and curfew) and you were sweeping the floor, finishing up for the evening whenever the doorbell chimed, indicating that somebody has walked in. Without even looking up to see who it was, you said, “Shop's closed, if you need anything you can reach Doula Ada at her apartment upstairs.”

“I’m not here for Doula Ada, darling. I'm here for you.” A baritone, you only just heard earlier in the day, told you as the sound of heavy bootsteps echoed against the hardwood floor you were sweeping up.

You lifted your head up, only to see Coryo. A warm, but small, smile crossed your lips as you took in his appearance. He was still in his light grey uniform, but was no longer wearing the helmet. Said helmet was hooked onto the rifle that was slung across his shoulder. You discovered that his buzzcut was blonde. A natural platinum blonde that border lined white. 

His hair was so pure, like snow. 

Like his name.

Was he too pure as snow?

No, Private Coriolanus Snow was as pure as snow once a dog lifts it's leg and pisses on it. He's yellow, dirty, defiled Snow. Not pure white snow.

But you'll never find that out.

No, he'll always put on a manipulative face for you because you're the girl he's madly in love (more like obsessed) with. 

“Why?” You simply asked, sweeping up your dirt pile into a dustpan.

“To walk you home since curfew’s about to go into effect.” 

“Oh.” You said, feeling silly for even asking, as you dumped the contents of the dust pan into the trash. Of course he wanted to make sure you got home without breaking the weekday curfew. He was your new friend; was looking out for you. “That's really sweet of you. Thanks.”

 “No need to thank me, Y/N. After all, what are friends for?” Coryo told you with a closed lip smile. His words sounded so sincere to you.

But what you didn't know was that he viewed you as more than a friend. As his girlfriend, well actually his future wife, and just wanted to walk you home to show off that you're his girl. That you belong to him.

And now that he knows your boss, Doula Ada, lived in the apartment above the shop and answers her door at all hours in case someone needs aid, well… Looks like he's getting you fired after walking you home tonight.

“I'll only be a minute; then we can go.” You told your peacekeeper friend while going to put the broom and dustpan away in the small storage closet.

“Do you live nearby?” You heard him ask while closing the closet after tucking away the broom.

“No.” You shook your head, going over to the counter where your apothecary book was. Grabbing the old leather bound book and tucking it under your arm, you explained, “I live in the Seam, on the other side of the district.”

“That’s quite a walk, darling.” Coryo pointed out what you knew first hand as you crossed the shop, heading over to him. “Maybe I should look out for you; walk you home every night I have patrol duty.” The light blonde peacekeeper suggested, placing a hand on the small of your back once you reached him. Ushering you out the door, he added in, “Just to make sure you're safe.”

And by keep you safe, what Coriolanus really meant was keep you from interacting with anyone that wasn't him. Because he can't have you talking to another man. Especially that one who seemed so concerned about you this morning, the dirty blonde man. 

Hell, if he could he'd lock you up to keep you away from men’s roaming eyes. To keep you from talking to strange men. Just the thought of men approaching you makes him sick to his stomach with jealousy.

None of these pigs in this dirty coal district deserve to look at you. You don't belong to them. You belong to him. You're his girl.

And since you're his, he's taking you back to the Capitol with him. In the Capitol, he'll be able to lock you up in a pretty golden gilded cage. A cage that wouldn't consist of metal bars, but of his family's Corso apartment.

Coryo knows you'll love the Snow penthouse; will make it into a true home again with your warmth and kindness. Warmth and kindness that reminds him of his mother. She was the light in the Snow family and when she died, along with Coriolanus' baby sister, nothing but darkness remained. 

Perhaps once Coriolanus brings you home to the Capitol, you'll give him a baby girl to dote on? Yes, that's exactly what you'll do. You'll fill his penthouse with love and will provide him with a daughter to brighten his life. A daughter the two of you can name after his mother. To honor the woman that you remind him of.

But the problem is, despite how nice (let's face it, the Snow's 12th floor Corso penthouse is falling apart; is such a dump that rats use it as a hotel) his family's penthouse is in the Capitol, its not your home. No, your home’s a wooden house (that could be called a glorified shack) that's couple of rows up from the Covey house at the edge of the Seam.

Your home’s with your older brother, Rein, and his girlfriend, Ashlie. Rein works and as a coalminer to put a roof over your head and food in your belly. And Ashlie works late every weekend serving rowdy dunks and peacekeepers at the Hobb’s bar. Poor Ashlie’s even put her dreams of having children of her own on hold to help your brother take care of you; raise you.  

They've done and sacrificed so much to take care of you. To raise you. And no matter what, home's always with them.

Which is a big problem for your new friend, Peacekeeper Coryo since he's determined to rip you away from the only home you've ever known to bring you back to the Capitol with him. He's not leaving you behind. In his mind, Coriolanus is getting the both of you out of 12- To never return. 

And he'll lie, cheat, and kill to do it.

But that's something you don't need to worry about, cause he'll do all the worrying for you.

After some time of walking, the brick buildings and cobblestone streets of the merchants sector faded away, morphing into dirt roads and wooden houses. Houses that were different variations of shacks, in Coriolanus' opinion. The lack of street lamps was also prevalent in the Seam. Instead, houses would have oil lanterns lit and hanging on the wooden beams of front porches or by the front door to light the way for miners that worked the graveyard shift.

Coriolanus doesn't (repeat he does not) like the idea of you walking alone along the dark, muddy, scum infested streets of the Seam during dusk. In his opinion it's unsafe. Despite the fact that you've grown up in the Seam around the people he views as dangerous district scum, the area in the grunt's mind is dangerous. 

Just the thought of some street rat dragging you in an alley behind some wooden buildings and having their way with you in the dark, as you innocently walk home from a hard day's work at the apothecary, makes him want to empty the contents of his stomach. Just the thought of some coal dust covered bastard pig trying to take advantage of you makes his blood boil. And it's all the more reason why he has to protect you from harm by walking you to and from places while he's on patrol in the district. 

It's also another reason why he needs to bring you home with him to the Capitol.

“How much further is it, little dove?” Coriolanus asked, hoping that your house was close because he didn't want to walk the entire mud filled Seam to reach it.

Maybe he could arrange for you to live in one of the apartments in the Merchant Sector, closer to the path that leads to the barracks? He could only send half of his pay home to Tigris and Grandma'am; keep the other half to pay your rent and buy you groceries. Yea, he'd do that for you. 

Because you're Private Coriolanus Snow's girl now and he has to keep you close; protect you from your neighbors, acquaintances, and the district scum.

“Not much.” You told him, passing by the house that your friend Lil shared with her brother Spruce and her boyfriend, a miner named Arlo Chance. 

Arlo worked with your brother, Rein, in the mines. They weren't friends, but they were kosher with each other when they crossed paths.

You noticed how the lantern was lit on Lil and Spruce's porch, meaning that Arlo was working the graveyard shift at the mines tonight. You knew that when you got home that the only one their to greet you would be Ashlie since Rein always worked the same shift that Arlo did.

You didn’t remember your brother remarking that he was working the night shift tonight. But maybe it slipped your mind, maybe he forgot to tell you? 

What you didn't see while passing by Lil’s house, with Coryo's hand firmly taking a possessive residence on the small of your back, was Spruce peeking out of the window, using the moth eaten drapes to shield most of his face, as he looked for his sister's boyfriend to come home after completing a risky mission for the rebel cause.

“That's my house right there.” You pointed to a wooden shack with a porch. The roof had a few patches and the wooden porch had steps that looked half rotten.

The platinum blonde at your side wrinkled his nose in disgust. Your house was no better than a chicken coop, in his opinion. Oh, that just wouldn't do for his girl. 

No.

His darling rose deserves the very best. And he plans on giving it to you. 

Just like how his cold hearted father had given his warm hearted mother everything money could buy once he united them in love and marriage.

Pulling his attention off of the house, which had a dim light glowing out from underneath the front door, and turning to you, Coryo asked, “Do you live alone?��

He wanted you to say yes, so that he could come inside and properly give you the love that you deserved. Cover your body in open mouth kisses, touch you til you shook with desire, and fuck you til you moaned his name in pleasure.

By how sweet you seemed, he just knows that you’re a virgin. He wants to take your virginity, claim you as his while ruining you for any and all other men in this lifetime. 

Coriolanus lost his virginity, as a bet, with a stranger while drunk in the alley behind a club when he was in the Academy. He didn't regret it. In fact, it gave him some much needed experience.

But you on the other hand…

Well, you’ll be fucking only him. And he's going to make sure of that. 

“No.” You shook your head, only to explain your answer with, “I live with my older brother, Rein, and his girlfriend, Ashlie.” 

“Can I meet them?” Your new friend asked with a smile. A smile that was sickeningly sweet, too wide, and showed way too much of his pearly white teeth. Barred teeth, much like a wolf’s.

You thought that he was genuinely interested in meeting your family because he wanted to make a good impression- being your new friend and all. But the cold, hard truth was that Private Snow wanted to meet your family in order to size up the people he has to separate you from. Coriolanus doesn't give a shit about your family. In his opinion they're district scum; don't deserve having an angel like you living amongst them.

No.

Only he deserves to have you living with him.

But…

One could say that he's an angel himself.

A fallen angel.

The fallen angel that was the most beautiful of them all.

Lucifer himself.

So if you're his angel then he's your devil.

Can't have one without the other, after all.

Even tho darkness was taking over the sky, the way you worried your lip didn't go unnoticed by Coryo. Giving you a look full of tenderness (Was it real or was it fake? Who knows, who cares.) he softly asked, “What's wrong, Y/N?”

Letting out a heavy sigh, you told him, “Coryo, they're leery of peacekeepers. Maybe we should wait a while before we do introductions, okay?”

The platinum blonde, Capitol born and bred peacekeeper didn't like that answer. Didn't like it one bit. You want to hide your relationship with him because you're afraid of your family's reaction. 

Yea…

He can't have that. He needs everyone-

EVERYONE-

Including your scummy miner brother and his district whore to know that you're with him.

He's got nothing to hide. And your Coryo's not going to let you hide him like some dirty little secret.

No, he’s going to meet your family and let them know that you belong to him.

But he'll pacify you; won't go pass your threshold tonight once he walks you to the door. 

“Okay, but let's not wait too long. I don't want to be almost done with my 20 years of Peacekeeper service when we do the introductions.” Coriolanus told you, his smile teasing, as he walked you to your door.

“It won't be that long.” You assured your new friend. 

“I know it won't be, darling.” Coryo confidently told you. But what he didn't tell you was that within the week he plans on striding inside of your house, staring down your family and telling them who you belong to.

And you belong to him, not them, now.

“Lil’s lantern's on, I thought you'd be working the graveyard shift with Arlo.” You told your brother upon seeing him sitting on a ratty armchair, smoking while watching Ashlie drain a pot full of boiling potatoes in the kitchen sink (which was more or less a glorified basin with metal rust spotted legs, whenever you walked thru the door.

Your older brother shook his head. “The fool took on an extra shift.” He said around a lungful of smoke that he blew out of his mouth.

“Supper's almost ready.” Ashlie announced, placing the pot on the counter only to start mashing the potatoes with a wooden spoon that was splintered and had seen better days. “How was your day at the apothecary shop?” Your brother's girlfriend asked as you walked by the kitchen on your way to your bedroom, so that you could put your book away on your bedside table (like you do every night when you get home).

“It was fine.” You answered, entering the hall.

It was more then fine, since you made a new friend. But you weren't ready to tell anyone about Coryo just yet.

Only if you knew how great of a friend Coryo really was. Would you still be mesmerized by his crystal blue eyes, platinum buzz cut, and strong jaw that makes him look more like a god then a man, if you knew how black his soul was? Would you want him around you if you knew how he was destroying your livelihood? 

The wooden stairs lightly creaked underneath the weight of Coriolanus’ boots as he made his way to Doula Ada’s apartment above the apothecary shop. The street lamps made his shadow look long, dark, and lean. Like an ominous horror creature of sorts. 

Except a horror creature would probably be more friendlier then Coriolanus Snow. 

When he reached the door of the flat, he balled his hand into a fist and furiously banged on it. “Peacekeeper, open up!” Coriolanus loudly ordered, knowing that tossing his weight around (despite just being a grunt) would get him the results he wanted.

Everyone in the districts bow down to peacekeepers. Listen to them, even if they don't respect them.

Except for you. His girl. You doesn't cower when you see him in his full uniform. No, you locked eyes with him and gave him the warmest, kindest smile that made love bloom and blossom between the two of you immediately.

You’re proud to be on his arm because you fell in love with him at first sight, just like he did with you. Cupid’s arrow struck at the right moment, when you and Coriolanus laid eyes on each other and shared smiles. And you can't tell him otherwise.

When the door opened, an older woman stood in the doorway. She didn't look him in the eye as she addressed him. “What's the matter, Sir? I've paid the rent for my shop and have a permit to allow me travel after curfew to tend to my patients.”

Coriolanus pushed past Doula Ada, causing her to stumble- she would've fallen if she didn't grab the door to keep her upright, and darkly chuckled. “For owning the only apothecary in the district, your apartment's poorly furnished.”

“Is there a reason you're here, Sir?” The doula asked, clutching her chest. It was painted all over her face that she was afraid.

Good, she should be afraid. Coriolanus could destroy her entire bloodline if he wanted with a snap of his finger and the simple word of rebel.

Ignoring the older woman, Coriolanus walked over to a small table that had a couple of pictures neatly arranged on it. The picture that caught his eye was one that had the dirty blonde man and flaxen haired girl he saw exit the shop earlier that day. So, they were the doula’s family.

Good. Very good. That means they can be used for leverage to get what he wants.

Picking up the framed photograph, he looked at it for a second or so before flashing it at Doula Ada. “This your family?”

“Yes.” Doula Ada nodded. “That's my daughter and her fiance. Why do you ask?”

Placing the picture back where he found it, Coriolanus turned to the woman and calmly, but coldly, ordered, “Fire Y/N Halvir or else I'll make sure you see your family hang for treason.”

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @nowitsmissing @edb954 @astarborntowrite @diannnnsss @devils-blackrose @gentle-aesthetic-bby @elizabeth-nobennet @harvey-malfoy

[fllayvor]

kind

scaramouche x reader

minors dni.

small drabble of nsfw scaramouche x reader inspired a scene in the manga 'Chuuken Bodyguard ga Nisemono Reijou no Uso to Karada wo Abaku made.'

notes: NSFW. non gendered reader & genitalia. bottom reader. scaramouche has a dick.

“This is absurd. My patience is waning thin, my dear,” Scaramouche croons out the pet name with a sickly, sweet smile that’s devoid of any real kind of mirth. He only saves ‘my dear’ for false pleasantries.

Right now he’s hovering above you, his hands on either side of your head, a prominent frustration knitting his brows together as the tufts of his dark hair catch along the fractals of light. He’s beautiful in every sense of the word, a piece of art given the breath of life. Even naked he’s a sight to behold.

“J-Just… just give me a few more minutes…” You respond in between a few heavy inhales, your stomach sitting uncomfortably with the foreign intrusion between your thighs.

“It’s been an hour. You’ve been saying this for over an hour.” He doesn’t hold back on the punches, reiterating the duration in that snarky clipped tone he’s renowned for and it’s enough to have your muscles momentarily wince.

Then, the man above you stills in reaction to your body’s involuntary flinch, it’s minute but noticeable enough for you to discern. The bitterness on his tongue is kept at bay by gritting teeth and the clenching of your legs.

It was far from intentional on your end, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a little bit happy to have shut him up for a moment.

“My dear,”A deep, unidentifiable tinge radiates from the back of Scaramouche’s throat and you have half the mind to be concerned when he lowers his head down to where your collarbone juts out to meet your shoulder.

“I’m trying,” You feel the words spoken against your skin before you hear them. It’s a sincere plea from his end, and you know if you flat out refused, he’d genuinely continue to wait it out longer. He’d wait an eternity until you were ready, even if he had to edge himself throughout it.

He really is trying. 

And it’s only slight, but his arms are shaking in the effort to hold himself back. You can feel his arousal twitch in the drawn out anticipation of it all.

There’s a warm huff of air that hits your chin as he cants his face upwards, a delicate shade of pink smoothing over his cheeks, “So can you be so kind as to hurry it up a bit?”

It’s all he can do to resist rolling his hips back and forth, to ram you into the headboard and finally experience unraveling you in full. His fists are digging the bedsheets into his palms, as though it’s assisting in steeling himself amidst the prolonged pause.

The sixth fatui harbinger, Scaramouche— your boyfriend— was so absurdly attentive to your comfort, to what you could and could not handle.

Especially when It’s your first time, and you suspect it’s his as well.

He was kind in an unconventional sense. An apt example is just as he says, waiting over an hour just so you could acclimate to the sensation of him breaching past your walls.

Gently, you raise your palms up to his face, a hand on each side guiding your thumbs over the light blush adorning his skin and whisper, “I’m… I’m okay now.”

At first glance you could guess the reverence in his eyes might’ve just been a reflection of your own, but it’s anything but.

The softness that surfaces in those blue hues of his is more than enough confirmation.

Shuddering out a breath, it looks like he’s assessing if you truly mean what you speak or if you merely seek to placate.

He must’ve found a genuineness in your words, because he doesn’t chastise you for not knowing your own limits. No, he draws himself out of you at an agonisingly slow pace, as if to generously repay your hour long stalling.

“Just focus on me. I’ll take the lead, so don’t you dare think about anyone else tonight.”

Steadily, he pushes his dick back in, a smile unable to stop itself from forming along his lips.

And it’s a smug smile you can’t help but begrudgingly adore.

[bluejutdae]

Thank you for fulfulling every seolars/changbins stans dreams with this biker drabble/imagine bc its everythink and now that these pictures are out (istg changbin got inspiration from you) can we have a full on ff about ~sexy~ biker!changbin?

Just an idea!🫶🫶

Not a full in fic cause it seems like I can’t write it, but here’s part 2 of Biker!Changbin! Very sexy I hope…

Biker Changbin (part 2)

Biker!Changbin who grabs your hands while you’re sitting behind him on his bike and circles his waist, making you clasp them on his soft tummy, sadly hidden by his heavy black leather jacket. The bike purrs under your thighs and the adrenaline is high due to the speed.

Biker!Changbin who, when he stops at a red light, rests his hands on your thighs, caressing them and squeezing. It’s only natural for your hands to brush against his groin on their way under this jacket, to end up lightly kneading at the soft layer of skin and fat over his abs. And if he groans, aroused even from that little stimulation, then that’s between him and his helmet.

Biker!Changbin who drives fast just to bring you to the perfect spot for stargazing, far from the city light and far from wandering eyes, because not even 10 minutes after you’re there, he has you sitting on his spot and him on yours, facing each other with your legs around his waist, kissing messily and wet.

Biker!Changbin who can’t help himself but to strip you of your shirt to look at you, lit only by the light of the moon and looking unreal half naked on his bike. And he needs needs needs to whisper sweet words into your neck. “So pretty, you’re so pretty.” It doesn’t matter that he’s been hard since you put your hands under his jacket, you’re his priority. That’s why he keeps on kissing you, your neck, your chest, your stomach, and with deft fingers he unbuttons your jeans and makes space for his hands, fingers looking for that part of you that makes you gasp.

Biker!Changbin pushing you against his boner, thumb playing with your clit and a smile on his lips because he adored all the sounds you’re making for him. “You’re mine. Just mine.” He growls after a particularly delicious bite on your skin. “Say it”. And who are you not to comply with his request? “I’m yours, Binnie. Only yours.” Your words spurs him on and he doubles his efforts to have you come on his fingers.

Biker!Changbin who can’t wait anymore and lowers your remaining clothes just enough to see your wet pussy when he bends you over his bike, chest pressed on the warm leather seat and cunt in the air, even more dripping because of the thrill of being seen. He knows no one ever comes here, but it’s exciting nonetheless. His sticky fingers prod at your entry, preparing you to accommodate him. His other hand’s fingers dug into the softest part of your ass, bordering on bruising, spreading you open.

Biker!Changbin using your wetness to coat himself, letting a groan escape from his lips as your knees tremble for the anticipation and the adrenaline and the lust. He enters you slowly, teasing both of you and bottoming with a deep sigh. After the initial sweetness, he’s nothing but relentless. His clean hand reaches your head and closes itself around your hair, making you arch and making him shift inside you in the perfect direction.

Biker!Changbin who can’t keep his mouth shut and between moans and groans he whispers words of worship, about your beauty, about your body, about how wet and tight you are around him. Circling your waist with his arms he sneaks his hands between your legs, smart fingers coaxing delicious and erotic sounds from you. You tighten your legs, assaulted by his double attack, but he’s an expert lover and it’s not even 2 minutes later you’re shaking and clenching around his cock.

Biker!Changbin who’s so so sweet when he asks for something, low in your ear, a plea: “baby, baby, can I-“ suddenly too shy to openly ask. But you know him well. Pressing your back to his chest, you nod. “Inside, big boy. I want it all inside.” That’s all he takes for him to squeeze you with his strong arms, still in his leather jacket, and cum deep inside you.

Biker!Changbin who, despite having just fucked you under the stars, is still a gentleman. so he helps you clean yourself and kneels to button back up your jeans, leaving a kiss on your hip. He recollects your shirt and watches you get dressed again, as enthralled by it as he is when you undress. He kisses you softly, grabs your helmet and clasps the buckle, making sure it’s fastened properly so you won’t risk being hurt. On the ride home, your arms circle his torso and he loves every moment of it, loves feeling your chest pressed against his back, loves knowing you’re so close to him.

Biker!Changbin who burns himself trying to make breakfast quietly. The steel spatula clangs way too loudly when it touches the floor, and Bin’s curse is just a little quieter than it. So much for trying to make breakfast while you sleep so he can wake you up with the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes. The fruit is fresh and diced, carefully placed in a cute cup on the tray, near it there is hot coffee, pancakes and a cute single flower he had to climb on the fire escape stairs to steal from the upstairs neighbor’s vase, just for you.

[champagnesprays]

a snippet of my poly!chardando fic ft. charles and daniel making out

i've been working on this since october and it's still not done, but i'm almost at 3k (i’m very slow i know) so i thought i would post a little preview because i'm too excited tbh

the whole fic is essentially centered around a poly relationship between charles, daniel, lando and the reader, but this part only contains charles and daniel (chaniel? or lecciardo?) as they're just impatient little shits

so enjoy (hopefully) these almost 500 words of my lightweight brainrot (the heavy parts come later hehe) and don't hesitate to give me any feedback (my inbox is open for any thoughts and requests), it would be much appreciated, thank youu for reading!<33

...

“Na-uh,” he murmured and grabbed Charles by his waist, pulling him back and into his embrace. Charles was slightly taken aback by Daniel’s sudden actions, but not in a bad way. His heart skipped a beat at the closeness of his partner that he has been yearning so long for. Daniel’s left hand rested on Charles’ back firmly holding him against his chest, while his right hand snaked its way onto Charles’ neck, his thumb slowly stroking the Monegasque’s flushed cheek.

“You’re not going anywhere, I’ve missed you too much for that,” Daniel said in a hushed voice laced with need.

“I’ve missed you, too, Dan,” Charles replied slightly shyly and smiled, fondness visible in the way he looked at the Australian. He hooked his hands behind Daniel’s neck and run his fingers through the hair on the back of his head. When their lips finally met after weeks, Charles felt like his heart was going to explode and Daniel was buzzing with happiness. You watched them have their little moment, engulfed in their kiss, and pouted a little at the sight. You loved seeing your boys be so happy and in love. It would certainly be nice to join them, but instead you went to sit on the couch to give them some space; you’re going to have plenty of opportunities to shower them both in affection later. Daniel just happened to snatch Charles faster than you, which did not surprise you considering being fast was what he did for a living.

Even though you left to sit down, you were not immune to their smooching; the open kitchen was connected to the living room and you had a nice view of them from your spot. Charles moved his right hand from Daniel’s neck to his bicep, gently squeezing the muscle, which had him weak in the knees. Thankfully, Daniel was still supporting him with a hand around his waist, holding him as close as possible. His tongue traced Charles’ lower lip and then bit it and sucked on it a little bit, which made Charles moan. Their kiss became more heated and Daniel started to move slowly, pushing Charles’ back against the kitchen countertop. “Up,” Daniel huffed huskily and Charles obliged. With the help of his partner’s arm, he lifted himself on the countertop and parted his legs wide so Daniel could fit in. He leaned back into Daniel to kiss him again, gently caressing his cheeks. Daniel rubbed Charles’ bare thighs, since he was only in his boxers, slowly moving up to his waist and under his shirt, to explore all of that skin he’s been craving. Charles scooted closer to Daniel and hugged his torso with his legs, pressing his semi-hard cock to Danny’s stomach.

...