#admittedly he was always cute but not like this

[soapywankenopy]

SDV car headcannons

[this gets pretty specific because i've had way too much time to think about it]

1. Harvey

Harvey drives an old, beat-up red Ford Ranger. It's a standard transmission, and the clutch is super finicky, so when he tries to drive other cars, he has a bad habit of shoving in the clutch too hard (or if it's an automatic, slamming on the break, thinking it's the clutch). It was a gift from his parents when he started med school. It was old when they bought it, but Harvey does his best to maintain it. He's not a "truck guy," but he changes his own oil and keeps it running well. He would like to buy a Subaru because quote, "they're very safe cars," but he doesn't use his truck a lot as it is, so he doesn't see a need to get a new car.

2. Leah

Leah drives a silver Subaru Baja. You can not convince me otherwise. She views cars as a necessary evil. It wasn't really all that useful in the city, but she's glad to have it now that she lives in Pelican town. It's well-loved, and it's pretty beat-up, but Leah says it works fine for what she needs it for.

3. Shane

He drives a 1999 Ford Taurus in that weird pinky-gold color. It smells like pizza and pepper poppers, and there are feathers in the backseat. Sometimes, he'll let Jas sit on his lap in the driver's seat and let her steer while he works the pedals. Mayor Lewis caught them once and was not happy. Shane does it anyway because it makes Jas happy.

4. Sebastian

He drives a motorcycle, lol. I admittedly do not know very much about motorcycles, but it looks like a blue Kawasaki Vulcan to me, but idk. (If you know more about motorcycles, feel free to give your two cents)

5. Sam

Sam does not have his own car, but he frequently borrows the family van. It's a silver 2003 Honda Oddysey. The van lands him with driver duty for the band and their equipment.

6. Elliott

Elliott disagrees with cars ideologically. He had a grey 2004 Mitsubishi Outlander that he inherited from his aunt. He sold it before he moved to Pelican town. He thinks it's more romantic to walk everywhere, but if you ask him why he walks everywhere, he'll say, "Because of the environment."

7. Penny

Penny doesn't drive. Pam tried a million times to teach her, but Penny just doesn't want to. She doesn't trust herself with such heavy machinery.

8. Maru

Maru does not have a car but will borrow Robin's work truck if she needs to. Sebastian definitely taught her how to ride a motorcycle. One of her many ongoing projects is a custom bike for Sebastian. Demetrius was very insistant that she learned to drive stick.

9. Abigail

Abigail does not know how to drive. Pierre was too busy, and Caroline never felt the need to teach her. She's happy to explore by foot, so it doesn't really bother her.

10 & 11. Emily & Haley

Their parents bought them a 2012 light green Toyota Prius to share. Haley thinks it's cute and Emily likes that it's a hybrid. Haley says eventually she might buy a blue Volkswagen Bug.

12. Alex

Alex doesn't drive and it's a sore subject for him. Don't bring it up. He might end up crying. He's always said that he would want a green Dodge Charger as soon as he learns to drive.

I have more headcannons about the other characters, so I may put them in another post

[002yb]

Your last ask about the reverse Robin's au was just so interesting . Please, could you tell us more about Tim and Damian in that au. Also, poor baby Jason. Bruce why are you always like that with Damian? 🥺 I just love how both Jason and Tim have this respect for Damian. Oh and what would happen with Dick?

Of course! Thank you for your interest in them. Damian and Tim's relationship in that reverse robin AU is one I'm so happy with, so I'd love to share more. (˵ •̀ ᴗ •́ ˵ ) ✧

Damian + Tim (ft. Superboyfriends)

In that period of time where Tim bounces and Damian is left to mind Jason's becoming of Robin (+ Bruce), he gets a lot of grief from Jon about how Damian went about everything

And Damian is so stubborn about it. Because his feelings might be a bit hurt over Tim abandoning him, but also because in his mind, Damian isn't wrong: Tim is more than Robin; always was.

Jon understanding where Damian was coming from, but insisting there's better ways to go about it

Which Damian refuses to entertain, come off it. Jon does if only for a time; if only because Damian is genuinely sore over how everything fell apart

With time though, Jon dropping in little anecdotes on how Tim is doing at Titans Tower. Because Jon hears about Tim from Kon.

And Damian plays aloof, but he hangs on every word on how Tim's doing, what he's been up to, what amazing feat he's accomplished.

Damian feeling the same pride, but it's tinged by a painful melancholy because he misses the bastard.

With more time and a lot of interference, Damian coming to realize how he should have handled matters. Not that he makes an effort to right them. Damian writes himself off, resigned to reap what he's sown. Not that he was entirely wrong. Jason still proves to be a tremendously capable Robin, it's just...it would be nice for Tim to have been here to be part of it all.

Kon relaying similar stories about Damian to Tim. Who always clicks his tongue and scowls but gives himself away by looking expectantly at Kon whenever he stops talking.

Just two proud boys doing the classic bat brooding and miscommunications. But it's chill because they've got their supers there conspiring to bring them together again.

Because fr Jon and Kon are so over having to schedule around when they sneak over their boyfriends overnight, y'know?

Also idk, just Damian and Tim wanting to reach out but doing the dramatic deleting of a text or dropping their phones to their chests without making a call. Turning away from their phones outright. Good stuff.

These two eventually running into each other on missions that happen to coincide. An initial standoffishness that falls away as they fall back into old habits with each other, only to realize the mistake and get all sulky/broody about it again.

But they do start to talk at some point. It's stilted at first, but soon enough the usual banter returns and it's all quiet shoulder checks and ornery, playful torments.

Damian ultimately eating crow about the whole situation. Tim brushing it off because he knows Damian cares for people in extremes. Not that Damian was right about anything. Just - talk to Tim next time.

Which leads to another step towards proper partnership for these two and it's sweet. ;U;

As for Dick's introduction in this AU... I'm admittedly torn between who seeks him out. It'd be cute if it were Jason reaching out after the tragedy at Haly's, but like... Jason whump opportunity so:

It's Damian who takes Dick under his wing and wants to give him the Robin mantle

Only he's learned from his mistake with Tim, so this time he talks with Jason about it, first.

And the thing is - they were all there to see the tragedy happen. Jason was right there beside Damian as he comforted this inconsolable boy, orphaned by Gotham's turpitude and their family's inability to ever get ahead of it.

So Jason would see in real time as Damian makes this decision and it would be the most devastating thing.

Because months/years later, Jason is still recovering from Ethiopia. He's trying so damn hard, too. He's almost okay, almost ready... but the truth is that he'll never get back to that level he was before he was beaten so terribly. Even if Jason can push himself, there are times his hip still gives out, or his ankle collapses under him. Psychologically he's as sound as the next bat, but physically? Jason can't recover.

Even still, Jason clings to Robin like a lifeline. That's his hope. His connection to Damian and Tim and Bruce; his family.

So to watch as Damian sees Robin's future in someone else is painful. There's nothing Jason can do to stop it, either. Whether Damian asks for his opinion or not, the choice is made.

'He needs this.' Damian would tell him, compassionate and cruel all at once. And Jason would hate him a bit because, 'what about me?'

Just Jason joining the ranks of the middle children with Tim, y'know? ;u;

Something something Jason withdrawing from Damian. A chasm building and all the insecurities and resentment festering. Bargains about how Dick can stay with Bruce, but Jason can be Damian's [Robin].

Jason fighting tooth and nail for his place in the family, but maybe hurting himself because he pushes too hard? Which sparks concern-induced-rage!Damian who snaps at him out of worry, but Jason takes it as a personal attack and it's sadness as they fight and fall out

Meanwhile Dick's out here completely enamored with this boy that tries so hard and fights so viciously and has so much passion. So he follows Jason around and wears him down and soothes the hurt of whatever abandonment/betrayal Jason feels somehow. Something like Dick promising to take care of Robin & Damian until Jason can do it himself. Or wanting to fly beside Jason - two Robins! Ahhhhhh, these two boys finding the essence of Robin in each other and that being their foundation.

[neutron-stars-collision]

It’s humbling how every new photo, still, poster of Colin in s3 makes me gasp and gape like an idiot

[skunkes]

anyway

[britneyshakespeare]

i remember a few years ago i was watching reality tv clips of lee junho from 2pm. and the top comment on one was "out of respect for taecyeon's relationship i will be moving on to junho." think about that all the time because that's so fucking funny

[cringelock]

sorry to fellow disco fans but i don’t care about jean nor do i understand the fixation

[sanatomis]

currently thinking about. . .

satoru who goes absolutely crazy each time you put it back in after it slips out.

cw. female!reader, vaginal sex, tit-sucking, implied creampie, slight dom/sub dynamics (dom!satoru, sub!reader).

the first time it happens is on accident. 

he’s too caught up in the way the fat of your ass jiggles with each deep thrust, too mesmerised in the feel of your soft skin between his fingertips as he gives one of your cheeks a firm squeeze. satoru’s lust-riddled brain simply didn’t take note of the way his hips started to move a little too fast, a little too quick. 

all he’s able to focus on as he takes you from behind is you, you, you—and certainly not the way his heavy cock suddenly slips out of your slippery cunt. a few drops of pre-cum dribble down the base as he involuntarily pulls out, some of it staining the back of your thighs. there’s not a lot of time to process the fact, as he’s back inside your dripping pussy almost instantly. 

your greedy hands reach for him immediately, securely wrapping around his base and slamming your hips back against his once he’s lined up again. there’s not even a chance for him to miss the warmth of your sweet pussy.

you wouldn’t even let him. 

satoru is pretty sure he’s going to cum on the spot at the realisation, and has to really, really fight himself not to finish prematurely. a deep groan rumbles from his chest, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head, as he thinks about how quick, how disguistingly eager you were as you scrambled to put him back inside. 

as if that slutty hole of yours can’t even go a second without being filled by him. 

a string of curse words tumble past his lips, and he fucks you a little harder than usual that night. 

since then, satoru’s been subtly letting himself slip out of your cunt each time the two of you have sex. the physical aspect of it isn’t hard; you’re always so incredibly wet, he’s out in a second. mentally, he’s at war with himself—though, seeing you whine and whimper as you hastily reach for his cock again makes those few agonising seconds without your warmth all worth it. 

something about the gesture makes you look desperate, impatient, and it’s all for him. and fuck, did it turn him on. 

there’s one time where he briefly suspects you’re onto him and his antics, as you insist on riding him. on being in control. it’s not something you do often, though usually he fucking loves it when you do (he still does, admittedly)—but with you on top and holding the reigns, it removes his opportunity to see you scramble to put his fat cock back inside. 

but, he’s nothing if not an optimist, so, of course, he’ll make the best of the situation. 

with the way they bounce so prettily in front of him as you rock your hips back and forth, he’s almost incapable of not sucking on them. and so, he decides to stifle his previous complaints by taking a mouthful of your tits. there’s always next time, and as he sucks on your breasts and feels you move up-and-down, he completely forgets about his former plans. 

riding him was simply one of your whims, it turns out, and the next time the two of you have sex he’s back in his usual spot. and the time after that, and after that, and after that—and as long as he’s there, he’ll keep making you desperetaly stuff his cock back inside. 

satoru’s breathing heavily now, the mere thought of it (combined with your walls griping around him like a vice) almost enough to make him dizzy. with your legs over his shoulders and thighs pressed up against your chest, cheeks stained with dried tears and soft, high-pitched moans and hiccups leaving your lips—he can’t help but feel the familiar itch to ruin your fun.

even if it’s just for a little bit.

he does so at once. the mixed release of both you and him from previous rounds leak out of you as he does so, and your pussy twitches around absolutely nothing. 

immediately, you frown. it’s small, cute, almost, and then your hands search for his cock again. though, this time, the position he (very purposefully) put you in makes it difficult—satoru fights off a grin as you scrunch your nose in dissatisfaction. 

“. . .’toru,” you mumble, and attempt to grab him again. your voice is hoarse, broken from the sweet noises you’ve made for him so far. “wh—what’re you doing?”

“hm?” he hums. 

a little smile settles on his lips as he prods your entrance with his tip, smearing the cum—most of it his—along your puffy folds. he toys with your pussy, the squelching sounds as he moves his cock near your cunt (but never quite in it) feeling like absolute music to his ears.

he hears you sniff. “. . .’toru,” you mumble, voice a soft whine. you try moving closer to him, to push yourself down on him, but he simply pushes your thighs harder against your chest. “please, j—just. . .”

satoru fakes a dramatic sigh. “you’re so spoiled,” he comments, and relishes in the way your eyes roll back as he slides back in all at once. “so, incredibly spoiled.” he tuts, starting his thrusts again. he brings his face closer to yours, as if it’d make him hear all your pitiful sounds better. “can’t even go a second without my cock, can you? ‘t slips out for a second, and my pretty girl’s already whining.” 

he doesn’t get a proper response out of you, but that’s okay. he doesn’t need to. there’s no sweeter sound than your fucked-out babbles, anyway.

and they often sound even sweeter after he temporarily deprives you of his cock. 

satoru smirks as he looks down at you.

no, he’s definitely not stopping this any time soon. 

© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.

[tender-rosiey]

“IT’S LAUGHING?! IT’S ALIVE?!”

— gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, and toji hearing the baby’s first laugh (f!reader)

a/n: guess who's back, back again then I will be gone again (probably)

GOJO SATORU:

your husband is, admittedly, a very funny guy.

his humor always manages to get to people one way or another, so even if he doesn’t get a laugh, he certainly gets some sort of reaction.

not with his little angel though, the one person that he would die to see her laugh.

no matter how much tickling or raspberries he blew, it was never a laugh, merely a smile or a very short giggle if he was lucky.

he would come across a ton of videos of babies having hearty laughs and simply wished to be able to get the same reaction out of his daughter.

it is the reason he is currently burying his face in your chest and whining, “I feel like she thinks I am just not that funny.”

“satoru, she is still a baby,” you hum, fingers carding through his hair, “you know that babies have different views about what is actually funny; actually, I saw baby not long ago at a photo of number eleven. it was so cute!”

“but I tried everything! even the unusual!” he huffs, standing up to retell all of his failed attempts, “I tried dropping stuff, quickly stirring a liquid, lightly touching her with a balloon—everything!”

he looks at his daughter with his best puppy eyes, “come on, d/n! isn’t there anything that would you laugh a belly laugh?”

a little idea pops into your head. giggling, you sneak off leaving your daughter trying to comfort her wailing papa the best she can.

d/n is caught up with satoru until you finally come back and she smiles, “mama!”

“hi baby!” you grin before smacking your husband—lightly but not so lightly—with a roll of newspaper.

he yelps, “y/n! why would you do that?!”

but he is cut off by his little girl laughing, and I mean laughing so hard she kind of leans back.

you wait until she is quiet again before smacking him with the roll one more time, and she, once more, starts laughing heartily with small little wheezes and a long breath in the end when she calms down.

your husband, mortified, picks his daughter up, “d/n! you’re not supposed to laugh when papa gets hit! you’re supposed to get sad!”

she starts giggling and kicking her feet, putting her hand lightly on his nose. she tilts her head confused, and satoru thinks he knows what she is waiting for him to say. he shan’t falter!

at least, that’s what he thinks.

d/n takes matter into her own hands and smacks him on the forehead, resulting in him yelping and her going into a laughing fit that lasted a minute or so.

how unfortunate that his most precious takes pleasure in him being hurt.

his head snaps towards you, but he guesses that it makes sense since you also love teasing him so much.

a bunch of devils he says! two cute devils he laments.

GETO SUGURU:

geto is convinced that he was blessed with two angels, her cute little twins from his beautiful wife, you. he is also convinced that they would do no wrong—which is like what wrong can a baby a couple months old do anyway.

he ignores how gojo screams about being bullied by the girls, how that one mean babysitter was yapping about how they most definitely threw their toys at her intentionally, and how miguel syas that the girls always hide his glasses because they love seeing his stressed face.

to geto suguru, his daughters could do no wrong.

aside from that, he also noticed that his daughters love playing with hair, sometimes eating it which makes him scream but oh well.

for the most part, they know to treat their father’s hair gently as they watch you and himself do it.

that’s why he never thought that his darling angels would get their first belly laughs by pulling on his freaking bangs.

each twin holds one of the bangs and with all their baby power, they pull and pull almost like they want to tear it off his head.

and while he adores that his daughter are laughing so much—for the first time too—that they stumble back almost turn red, but he really doesn’t want to bald before heat least reaches his 50 or something.

another problem is that you never interfere unless he straight up screams for your help.

that made him realize how much of a common occurrence it is and he finally decided that he needed to put his foot down.

so he sat his girls down—including you because you’ve tolerated the violation of your husband’s hairline so much—and took a deep breath.

“girls, we need to learn that papa’s hair is fragile and we shouldn’t pull on it so much,” he turns to you with the quirk of an eyebrow. “right, honey?”

you barely hold back your smile before nodding and loyally supporting your husband, “why, of course, my love!”

he rolls his eyes, “so, be good girls and don’t pull on my bangs, please?”

one of the twins, while the other frowns and starts fussing. you lock eyes with your husband, and you both try to telepathically figure how to handle this, until your other twin starts crying.

now, you have two crying babies.

congratulations!

so your husband concedes and kneels in front of them, bravely offering his bangs. almost instantly, they stop crying and start pulling the bangs on their respective sides.

they start laughing and squealing again, and geto starts to think that balding is a small price to pay for his angels’ happiness.

he should probably stop calling them that though.

NANAMI KENTO:

now, in constrant to nanami, his daughter came out all bubbly and smiley, and it had nanami going as soft as a marshmallow.

it also didn’t help that d/n is convinced that her dad is indeed a marshmallow in which that she could only touch him softly.

she would gently pat his cheeks, press clumsy little kisses to his forehead, and squeal in order to cuddle with you or him. she also is extremely empathetic and starts crying whenever she sees someone hurt or genuinely frowning.

that was also the reason why gojo adored her since her crying cut anyone’s session of bullying him short. though, of course, he buys her a ton of toys to make up and comfort her.

he fails to realize that the true way to comfort her is to place in your arms or nanami’s.

like that one time when she bumped her head lightly and started crying profusely, throwing punches at gojo who was supposed to be babysitting her—poor choice but who am I to judge. she screamed and squirmed, demanding she be comforted.

however, none of the toys gojo bought were working.

and the two of you were called into a mission, so he literally is rendered helpless. that is until nanami returns a tad bit early than planned, and satoru couldn’t have been more relieved.

he hurriedly places d/n in kento’s arms, and the little girl takes a few seconds to realize who is holding her now.

she looks up, smiling at her dad. he instantly smiles back, “hey there,” he hums, “did you miss me?”

anyway back to what i was saying: a very sensitive and empathetic baby, right?

so when one day, you have your girl perched on your lap and nanami is going all out with scolding gojo, no one expects your daughter to burst one laughing.

you giggle, looking at her, “d/n, you like seeing papa scold uncle gojo?”

gojo gasps, “what?!”

you usher your husband, “babe, try it again!”

nanami nods with determination and gathers everything gojo ever bothered him with and translates it into a bunch of very child-friendly insults.

with each reproach, gojo deflates and d/n starts laughing more, squealing and wheezing. your husband abandons the crushed gojo and goes to hold d/n in his hands, “you okay there?”

she squeals and reaches for her feet, eyes never leaving her father’s. you coo, “she is so cute!”

“I never imagined my daughter would laugh at the sight of me, out of all people, scolding gojo.”

a very wounded gojo screams, “well I sure did! you family of haters!”

your husband frowns, but before he can talk, d/n cups his face and starts babbling a bunch of nonsense. nonetheless, your husband hangs onto every bit of said nonsense. 

gojo takes that chance to flee to the hills.

meanwhile, you’re holding a camera and recording the lecture(?) your tiny angel is giving your husband.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

your baby is the son of the all-mighty king of curses.

the man who sends terrors throughout the lands, the mere sight of his face is enough to cause someone to pee themselves.

everyone cowers in front of him, except you and more recently his son. on the contrary, in fact, your son can’t help but cackle whenever his dad puts on his “scary” face.

the first time it ever happened was when you were strolling the palace with s/n in your arms.

you know not to enter the throne room whenever sukuna has the villagers over to “hear their complains” as it almost always ended with him slicing one part of their body off.

you figured that it would be okay to at least pass by it since they always had the door closed—that started when you gave birth—but to your surprise, the door was open this time, giving you and your son a front row seat to sukuna degrading his subject.

“you’re wasting my time,” your husband states, and the villagers starts panicking.

“a-apologies my lord, pl-please grant me a-another chance!”

your husband scowls, “and now you’re ordering me around?”

the villager starts crying and kneels to the ground. on the other hand, your son couldn’t have been laughing more. his laugh echoed so loudly in the room that it drew everyone’s attention.

sukuna stares at the baby in your arms and scowls again, “y/n, why is he here?”

your son squeals and starts laughing again, hiding his face in your chest. you light up at his laughter, and sukuna finds himself livid at how the scene makes him feel content—until he notices the villager staring at you as well, what a short-lived happiness.

swiftly, sukuna slashes the villagers into cubes, and your son—who came out of his hiding spot—bursts into a fit of giggles that has you wondering just how much of sukuna’s sadism was passed to your darling son.

while you ponder over that, sukuna quickly makes his way to you, dismissing all the servants and tasking them with taking out the trash.

when your husband is right in front of you, you look up at him with a frown, “my son is laughing at torture, sukuna.”

“he is probably laughing at how pathetic the man looked,” he says as he smirks and pulls you close.

you huff and bounce s/n lightly, “shut up, old man.”

sukuna quirks an eyebrow and leans to be on your eye level. his hand is placed on your head, and he threatens, “you’re insulting your husband?”

s/n gasps lightly before harshly latching on sukuna’s face, fingers digging into his second pair of eyes. sukuna does not give any reaction except standing up to his full height.

your son, however, is relentless and is still hanging onto your husband’s face.

you don’t know how to react. sukuna doesn’t know how to react.

s/n just lets out a series of battle cries.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

if there is anything that toji is doubtful of is whether his son actually loves him or not.

why you ask? well, the only thing that gets the kid laughing—aside from you laughing or smiling—is literally any inconvenience that happens to him.

he remembers that one time when shiu was over to discuss some business, nothing out of the norm. megumi was on just sat on his high chair beside toji since you were at work.

toji was just sipping on his coffee when he burned his tongue, “gosh damn it!”

shiu was about to make fun of him, but megumi beat him to it as he started laughing heartily, even taking breaths in between to calm down but to no avail.

toji’s eyes widen as he stands up to go to his son, “no way you’re laughing at me getting—what the hell?!”

toji groans after he bumps into the table, glaring at his son who starts laughing all over again. meanwhile, shiu chuckles and teases toji, “I think your son just loves you so much, doesn’t he?”

your husband rises to his feet, quickly carrying megumi and lifting him in the air. he grumbles, “I want my wife back.”

another time was when you guys grocery shopping.

you had most of the list crossed out and the only thing left was the frozen vegetables. easy, right?

so you, your husband, and son quickly made your way to the section—since megumi wanted to go to the park later to play with yuuji.

megumi stays in your arms, while toji goes to grab them. considering how unlucky this man is, the bag slips from his hand and falls flat on his face, and it freaking stays there.

to your darling son, comedy had never reached this peak, so he lets out a guttural laugh.

you want to join in on the laughter, but you noticed that toji is standing still, with the bag on his face.

so you walk to him, gently taking off the bag and teasing him, “you okay, champ? that made quite the noise.”

“don’t even start,” he groans and buries his face in your shoulder, ignoring the wheezing megumi. he then starts complaining, “they keep whining about how he is a quiet and shy kid, but he sure ain’t with me.”

“isn’t that a good thing? It’s important for him to feel free around his dad.”

he turns his head towards you, a frown plastered on his face, “no kid laughs whenever his dad gets ridiculed by life.”

“you told me that you laughed when your dad fell down a flight of stairs,” you deadpan.

“that’s because my dad is an ass; I am not,” he pauses, “for the most part.”

apparently, megumi senses his dad’s distress and starts slowly patting his head, albeit shyly. he lowers his gaze and mumbles, “so’y.”

toji’s eyes widen and he is frozen in place for a moment. your son takes note of that and starts staring him in the eye, waiting for his reaction.

your husband doesn’t take long for a small smile to break out as he lets a small sigh, “’s okay kid,” he hums and pets his head.

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[mingtinys]

" you should rest "

pairing : choi seungcheol x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : language

word count : 0.5 k

a/n : super super excited to be doing this little mini-series starting off with seungcheol !!

You're rudely awoken from your slumber by the slamming of brakes and Seungcheol throwing curses at the car in front of him. Your seat belt stops your momentum, though you can't say the same about your poor suitcases and bags in the back seat that tumble forward with a violent thud.

"Fucking idiot," he mutters, then looks over to you with a complete change of expression. "Are you okay?" He's still got his arm extended over your chest like a mother.

"I'm okay, are you?"

"Yeah," he sighs, letting his arm drop from its protective position in favor of resting his hand on your inner thigh. He squeezes ever so lightly in an attempt to ground himself. "Asshole cut me off and then slammed his brakes. I'm sorry to wake you."

You hum, reaching out to brush back his bangs from his eyes. A fond smile lights up his features at the gesture. "S'okay. How much longer do we have left?"

"About an hour or so."

An hour!?

"Cheol!" You scold, shuffling to sit up in your seat. "You were supposed to wake me up an hour ago to switch off!"

If there was only an hour left that meant he'd been driving for nearly three already. You only meant to nap during his half of the drive to your parents' house then you would finish the rest so he could get some sleep. You even made him promise about three times over to wake you up, but it seems that went unheard.

He just shrugs and steals a glance at you, that signature pout playing at his lips. "I don't mind. Besides, you've seemed stressed lately, I figured you could use the extra rest."

Admittedly, the extra shut-eye was pretty nice. But still, you wish he would've woken you. "I appreciate it, but I'll feel guilty if you take the whole drive. Pull over and we'll switch off for the last bit."

Stubborn as always, Seungcheol shakes his head. "I'll take care of everything, you should rest." There's honestly no arguing with him over stuff like this. So you just sigh and grumble about conquering the trip back on your own to make up for it. Seungcheol just chuckles at your dissent. "You're too cute."

You curl up in your seat once more, turning so you can admire glare at your boyfriend who's a little too happy with himself. He notices, and the way his lips crack into a smile is irritatingly adorable. Seungcheol reaches his arm to the back, fishing out his coat that had been buried under your multitude of travel bags. Placing it over your legs, he steals another lingering glance.

"You're not forgiven yet, I'm still mad at you." It's probably the least threading sentence you've ever uttered in your life. Your voice sounds whiney, even to you, and that really makes Seungcheol laugh.

"I know, baby. Sweet dreams."

[silkjade]

CLASSICAL CONDITIONING !

⤀ synopsis: careful how you tease the duke ⤀ cw: fem!reader, 'good girl', established relationship, unprotected + rough sex, overstimulation, use of handcuffs, lil bit of dom!wrio — ꒰ mdni ꒱ a/n: i blacked out and when i came to, this was written && sitting pretty in my drafts

for the duration of your relationship, you’ve made it a habit to bring wriothesley tea every afternoon. it’s something that’s become so ingrained in his routine, that when the noon bell chimes two, he’s compelled to sit a little straighter, exchanging unrequited glances with the large double doors of his office.

as the minutes tick by, he finds himself a little more irritable, finds it admittedly more difficult to focus on the paperwork at hand. you're late and it's not until a quarter past, that he finally hears the familiar tap tap on the door, that indicates your much anticipated arrival.

by the time you make it to the top of the stairwell, the fragrance of freshly brewed tea has long filled the room, yet your boyfriend's eyes remain trained on the documents before him. unbeknownst to you however, he's been reading through the same line for the umpteenth time, clearly distracted without your little midday pick-me-up.

“for your hard work,” you hum, setting the teacup to his side before stepping away and just missing—though in his opinion, dodging—his expectant lips.

wriothesley blinks. it’s neither the tea nor the pastries that he looks forward to everyday, but the kisses that always follow—until today, apparently, where you’ve left him with the terrible notion that his lips are to remain grievously untouched.

he clears his throat. “aren’t you forgetting something?”

“hmm,” pouting, you tilt your head, brows loosely knitted with cluelessness. “i don’t think so.”

your duke leans back in his chair, arms crossed, before he huffs in amusement. “single handedly halting the productivity of the warden,” he lets out a low whistle, “could be a pretty hefty crime you know.”

“s’that so…” you seat yourself on the edge of his desk; it’s the playful little grin twitching at the corners of your lips that give you away. “well what’re you gonna do about it, your grace?”

it's quite cute how you giggle at the way he’s wrapped around your finger, and given the lovestruck look in his eyes, he truly does not mind at all. however, that's not to say he finds it fair.

because although they say it’s unwise to bite the hand that feeds you, this is not the nation of wisdom; here in fontaine, justice demands an equitable arrangement, and as the formidable duke of meropide, it's in his right to enact his own... so it really should be of no surprise when wriothesley shows no remorse as he drills into your gushing cunt, hellbent on conditioning you to cum on his cock and his cock only.

he makes sure to imprint the very shape of him into your walls: from the fat mushroom tip that first slips through your sticky folds, to the large bump of each vein dragging across your velvet insides—your little hole greedily swallows every thick inch of him. over and over, every thrust sheathes him to the hilt, and the heavy sounds of skin against skin echo through the room.

the sudden cold of his fingers on your clit sends a shudder through your core, jolting as he begins to press and toy with the nub, legs twitching while his heavy balls continue to slap against your puffy pussy lips. you squirm in his hold—far too sensitive to cum again, but you're so close.

your hips bounce back and forth, alternating between the hard edge of the desk that presses sharply into your skin, and the merciless ruts that penetrate so deep inside. but like the doting lover he is, wriothesley takes note of your woes and makes a decision for you. he presses his weight into you, grazing his teeth lightly down the nape of your neck.

"ah ah," he coos, "c'mon you can take it. be a good girl for me, yeah?"

it's a shaky, dreamy imitation of your voice, that nods along to the thin facade of agency; with your wrists cuffed behind your back, and body bent over, imprisoned between the warden and his desk, the only thing you can do is to take it.

still, your walls tighten around him nonetheless, prompting him to angle his hips, hitting that spot with a precision that only comes with experience. you keen beneath him, spiraling into yet another dose of exhilarating bliss as you cum again, creaming all over the girthy shaft still buried in your wet mess of a cunt.

and as you're still shuddering from the intensity, consumed completely in the pleasure, wriothesley continues to grind your insides. he's far from finished and intends to carry on until you’re blissed beyond any semblance of sane, drunk on the memory of being molded to his fat cock.

a/n2: reblogs and feedback appreciated, as always ^^ ty for reading !

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[jeongin-lvr]

ᵎ　🍶　⊹ clueless, y. jeongin

꒰ 🗯️ ꒱ 𝗏𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇！𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾，𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋，𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾，𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝖫𝖬𝖥𝖠𝖮𝖮，𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖻 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖽𝗒𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗌，𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 ＆ 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅，𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾，𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀，edited．

[ 𝟤．𝟫𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 ] ⭑ [ 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 ] ⭑ [ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]

YOUR boyfriend was so clueless in all aspects of women. Sometimes it was funny and other times it was genuinely shocking how little he knew; Jeongin was always nose down in books, easily flustered, yet incredibly attractive. Like borderline insane how attractive he was. Which made it even more of a mystery as to how he has never had a girlfriend, let alone been with a woman.

You often poked fun at him for him, though it was all innocent. At least for the first few months of the relationship.

"Innie, you are such a pretty boy," You would tease whilst leaning against his arm, cheek pressed to his shoulder so absentmindedly, though you knew how easily flustered he could get. Jeongin would gush at your compliments with fire in his cute cheeks, squishing to you closer to bury his head into your heavenly hair. Then you'd continue, chuckling as you patted his shoulder and held him, "Bet you have a pretty cock too..." you'd whisper into his ear, leaving him shocked and clueless.

"What—" And them you'd be on about something else, pretending nothing was ever said. As if your words didn't leave his (in fact, very pretty) cock half-hard and beginning to sting with sin, a small stain of wetness from the tip tattooing his sweat pants a darker shade.

But now it was getting a lot less harder to ignore your sinful words. At first he could excuse himself, fix his problem and go back to you (admittedly, a little more flustered). Now, this would happen often the more comfortable the two of you got with each other. From teasing comments to full blown make out sessions— nearly ending with you on his lap riding him. But he always backed out, not because of fear but because he's never done it before (okay, maybe a little fear).

He was inexperienced and he didn't want to blow a load too early; he also didn't want to disappoint you with how little he knew.

And, of course, you'd always smile and give him a gentle kiss when things got too heated. Telling him it's fine and you'll wait for him as long as he needs, settling back into the sofa cushions with a content sigh as you watched the movie you'd put on an hour before, now already at the end.

However, Jeongin was ready. He knew it, he could feel it inside of him. Each time he'd have you underneath him, or you on top of him with a flirty giggle, he knew he wanted to take off your clothes and please you. Jeongin knew with every ounce of his being, every atom longed for you.

So he was determined now. 6 months into the relationship and he was ready to take charge... the only problem was, how?

"Innie, baby, hey," You called, obviously confused as to why he wasn't answering you mid-conversation. Your head whipped around to him away from the screen, catching his eyes staring at you already, though not into your eyes. His gaze was set on your pudgy thighs that lay so barren due to your shorts (or maybe lack of). Adding to the fire was the fact that you wore his big hoodie that he always wore, so it's as if the smell was imbedded into it, pristine and constantly fresh. And that barely covered your thighs, dangling over your body like a shadow of fabric.

Jeongin opened his mouth, dry and a bit flustered, "Sorry, what??" His eyes met yours, cute voice slurred with obvious embarrassment. His pink lips were chapped but you thought that was nothing a little kiss couldn't fix.

"What're you staring at, handsome?" You teased him, poking his cheek with a neatly manicured finger, giggling as you scooted over to him. Jeongin huffed with a pout, tugging his hoodie down to cover the (hopefully not so) obvious bulge beginning to grow in his jeans. But, obviously, you caught it.

"Don't call me that, baby," Jeongin knew that you knew what effect that nickname had on him. It was so cute and innocent yet when they came out of your lips they had a sinful twinge. Like it was drenched in the sex that was beginning to ruminate in the thick, tensed air, "Such a meanie..."

You chuckled darkly, draping one leg over his and sitting so that his cute thigh lay between yours, parting your legs so nicely.

"Why? Does it make you nervous, hm?"

Jeongin looked you dead in the eye, breath stuttering and teeth parted to showcase that cute tongue; the tongue you just wanted to have in your mouth.

"Love, you know why," Your boyfriend droned with a familiar pout. Poor boy stopped for a minute, hesitating to rest his hands on your hips but mustering up the courage with a red face. You tilted your head, a bit confused as his eyes grew a tone more serious, chocolate irises now the hue of dusk, "Uhm... hey, baby... I wanna ask you something."

"Shoot," You looped your arms around his neck, connecting in the back of his hair whilst skillfully playing with the ends of his deep black strands.

Jeongin ignored how his cock ached suddenly at the feeling of your hands in his hair. How it felt when you pulled at the strands just gently but enough for him to shiver. Jeongin silently wondered if he was really gonna do this or if he'd end up in the bathroom again, cock in hand, wondering why he was such a loser.

"Okay, so, um, you know how I-I always say that I want to wait? To, y'know—"

You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, a dust of cherries underneath your skin, "Yes, I know."

"Okay, well—" Jeongin hesitated, his eyes dead set on yours, unknowingly squeezing your hips as he tried to compose himself, "I think I'm ready."

Your eyes widened, meeting his with a soft coo as you ran a gentle hand through his soft locks. Jeongin hissed softly, still insistent in keeping your eyes locked but slowly losing his composure the more you stared.

"You're ready?" You asked, already pooling in your underwear.

Jeongin nodded, kissing your wrist that laid beside his cheek, as if to confirm to you through the silence, "I've been ready— I just want— I want to do this."

You cracked a smile, "Do this? Or do me?"

"Stopp," He whined, trailing a trembling hand up your waist then to your cheek, resting softly on your warm flesh now. His thumb gently rubbing, to his pleasure he felt your skin burning, seeing them red with love, "I'm serious, pretty." His voice was low now, if anyone else was in the room, no one else but you would hear. It was just for you. Like a gift.

"I know, Innie," You whispered back, suddenly you were the nervous one, hands dropping down to his chest, feeling his heartbeat as it increased like the sound of a bass drum, "I'm serious too. If y-you're ready, so am I. Promise."

Jeongin felt somehow relieved yet at the same time more nervous. He could feel every ounce of sincerity within your words, your tone too. He already felt so intimate and nothing had even begun.

"Love you, pretty boy," You whispered again, leaning forward to meet his lips, melting into them, "Love you s'much," You muttered against his lips as they immediately meshed with yours, the intensity of every kiss growing. At this point, Jeongin's cock was throbbing just from hearing you say all of that. His hands were gently, timidly prying at your clothes, wanting them off but not sure how to say it without you teasing him.

Jeongin caught your bottom lip, pulling away with a shiver creeping down his spine, "B-Baby, m' so in love with you. Swear to god, you're perfect." His eyes were already dazed as they looked you up and down, admiring your delicious figure, "I wanna make you feel good— show me."

You almost moaned at the sound of it. Watching Jeongin slowly lose it, shirt now tugged up enough to see the true volume of his erection. You could tell he was big, and how he had kept this from you was a mystery. You adjusted on his lap, openly sitting on his bulge as if to let him know— tell him without the burden of words that you're his.

"Show you?" You asked against his lips, grazing them softly.

Your boyfriend nodded, your hands reaching under his hoodie to feel the heat of his skin. Your nails lightly scraped over his tense tummy, breath stuttering each time your fingertips swirled over his skin. He groaned at the feeling of your hips upon his cock, feeling as though he'd bust right then.

"Show me how to make you feel good," Jeongin said it so confidently you almost forgot it was your boy. You liked how eager he was to please yet somehow kept that little bit of composure, "That's all I wanna do for you, pretty."

You almost short circuited, retracing your thoughts and trying to figure out what to do or say first, "O-Oh... well, give me your hand first."

Jeongin obeyed, taking his hand and placing it in yours, eyes wide and staring into yours as he awaited further instruction.

"Now—" You took his hand, guiding it to your sopping cunt, almost letting out a whimper as he ran a finger up your heat. Jeongin nearly gasped as he felt the heat, the stain of wetness from your arousal, he was perplexed yet utterly amazed, "Yes— like that." You grasped his hand tighter, placing it where your clit was, aching and an angry shade of red, "This feels good... rub— rub it, in circles."

"You're so wet— fuck, I can feel it through your shorts," Jeongin did as you told him. Rubbing gently in what he hoped was a good pace. From the look of your dusty eyes he could safely say it was. Your lips parted with soft whines leaving them, thighs trembling on either side of his legs. It was a sight he could get used to, "Does that feel g-good?"

"Mhm— wan' take off my shorts," So you did, stepping off his lap and leaving his hands empty and unoccupied, which he never knew he could miss. You laid at his side now, head upon a pillow, looking ever so angelic as you spread your legs, as if to invite him. Jeongin ogled for a moment, forgetting he was human as his eyes lingered up and down your voluminous curves, landing lastly on your barren cunt, observing with curiosity.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," Jeongin crept forward, connecting your lips with his in a heated, dramatic kiss, "Thank you, thank you—" He didn't know what he was thanking you for; being you? Letting him do this? Giving yourself to him with such need? Jeongin wasn't gonna dwell on it any longer, instead, he let your hand take his and guide him back to your core.

"M-more," You whimpered. From all the teasing you've done to him for the past few months, it was a bit shocking to see you so pliant. Jeongin nodded against your lips, the kiss becoming a mess as you two persisted, "Like this, okay?"

You led Jeongin's hand to your clit, rubbing gently. Then moaned loudly, as if it was the best thing. Jeongin felt his mind being blown at the noises you made, it was so precious to him. He wondered why he'd never done this sooner; now he wasn't sure he could go without them anymore.

"N-now, like this—" You dropped Jeongin’s hand to your throbbing hole, dripping in sheer globs of desire onto the cushion beneath your ass, glistening in lust, "Two fingers... ah—" You showed Jeongin, letting his two gorgeous fingers breach your hole, slowly inching in. Jeongin choked at how you sucked him in, and at the way your head tilted back, those addicting moans you let out too.

Jeongin was on the verge of cumming in his own pants; shamefully yet he wasn't sure he could even stop if he did.

"Yes... ah, you're hands a-are so pretty—" You were a bit of a mess now, you showed him how to pump them into you and then he was off on his own, watching as you fell apart around him and your moans slipped out dangerously loud, "So— good!"

Jeongin couldn't fathom how beautiful you looked. Hair in the shape of a halo around your flushed face. Eyelashes fluttering and lips parted as a spot of drool came dribbling down; without a bit of hesitation, he came forward and kissed it away, dragging his tongue along the trail as well.

You moaned out at the warm feeling of his tongue, barely able to make out his dazed, enamored expression through the thickness of your lashes.

"Wan' taste you, baby, can I?" Jeongin suddenly asked, scissoring into your cunt as his palm slapped against your core. You truly wondered if he was lying about the whole virgin thing— with the way he was using his fingers it was like they were made for this shit.

You nodded at his words, "Please!"

Jeongin didn't need anymore confirmation to bend forward, hips rutting into the pillow below, his own moans vibrating against your clit. His lips wrapped around them, eyes fluttering shut as he made out with your pretty sex.

"G'na— ah, cum!" You shouted as his tongue flicked along your clit, making you see stars as his fingers carried out your orgasm. Hitting your gummy spot with little caution, lips around your cunt. You creamed around his fingers, yet Jeongin didn't stop filling you with his knobby digits.

You pried them away, lost beneath your lashes as you tried to breathe, searching for his gaze.

Jeongin looked at you expectantly like a puppy waiting for praise, lips curled into an almost prideful smile as you whispered into nothing.

"Fuck, Innie, felt s-so good," You brought his face up to yours, post-sex haze making you needy and soft, "Thank you, baby."

Jeongin groaned as your thigh rubbed against his cock, the pain suddenly reminding him he was left unattended. Your eyes fell to the prominent outline, the stain of precum on the fabric, making you suddenly want more.

"Jeongin, baby, put it in," You pleaded, grasping his biceps in your suddenly small hands, shaking figure as you begged, "Please. Wan' make you feel good, too."

Jeongin lost it, nodded through the dizziness at your words, "You're unreal— fuck, baby, gonna put it in, tell me if it hurts—"

You watched him mess with the button of his pants, a little confused as to why it would hurt. Then you met eyes with his cock, throbbing and red, dripping. But most importantly, massive. You audibly gasped with bewildered eyes. It had to be more than ten inches, and it looked painful to hold, hard with intricately drawn veins. You locked eyes with your boyfriend, shock evident on your gorgeous face.

"You're fucking huge, Innie," You almost moaned as the poor boy grew shy, opening your legs and aligning the tip with your ready hole, "M' gonna split in half."

Jeongin would've laughed but he was too immersed in the pleasure, sinking into your dripping cunt inch by inch until there was nowhere left to go. Despite having an inch or two still not submerged, he let his head fall back and moaned, loudly and super cutely.

"Don't say that— m-might cum already," Jeongin propped his arms beside your head, finding your lips and messily making out with you as he tried to not move. It was hard with you clenching and sucking him in. Your hands looping around his neck again, lips wet as saliva pooled down your chins in a puddle.

"S'full," You mumbled, losing track of how his lips collided with yours in needy sweeps. Jeongin moaned at your words, "Holy shit, baby, I gotta move. M' moving, pretty!"

Jeongin was apologetic but his hips moved, skin slapping on skin as his pace stayed relentless and quick, shallow yet letting you feel as much of his cock as you could. Every vein, every cursive line within his pretty fucking cock.

Jeongin bit your bottom lip, hands clenching into the couch material as he fucked into your harder. The lewd noises of your cunt swallowing his length was pornographic and beautiful to him; like music to his ears, a sound he never knew he needed.

"Ohh, Innie, fuck, it's s'big!"

Jeongin dropped his head into your shoulder, your hands going to his back to claw at the porcelain skin. Jeongin choked out a moan, biting your neck as he mumbled out a barely coherent, "M' gonna cum— can I? Inside? P-please?"

You were too overstimulated to say no, you moaned yes and with that Jeongin released into you, suddenly the feeling of being full making you overwhelmed. It felt like you were sinking into the couch, clawing to Jeongin to stay steady as his cum pooled inside of you.

"Shit, shit, m' sorry, pretty," Jeongin spoke after coming down from his high, pulling out and hissing at the feeling, "Are you okay?"

You opened your eyes with a dazed flutter, meeting his worried bronze ones as they scanned your messy red face, "I can't believe you had a dick that good and you've been keeping it from me!"

Jeongin blushed, dropping his head to your shoulder again with a nervous whimper, "You're something else..."

[stellar-skyy]

FAMILY (OF SORTS) — Platonic Fatui Harbingers & reader.

i. SUMMARY: The Fatui Harbingers have a soft spot for Arlecchino's child. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: STRICTLY PLATONIC, headcanons, fluff, parent!arlecchino, house of the hearth!reader, all of the harbingers are reader's weird aunts and uncles, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.6k words. iv. A/N: the fatui are just a dysfunctional found family and i will die on this hill. shoutout to @romaritimeharbor for listening to my rambles about this idea 🫶🫶 also pierro and pulcinella aren't here because i could not think of anything to write for them :')

All of the harbingers knew about Arlecchino’s child; the one that appeared in Fatui Headquarters stuck to her side, eyes cast to the floor. They all saw the way that Arlecchino had held a soft grip on their shoulder, guiding them through the halls with the gentle touch of a parent from the gentle hands of a monster.

The Knave always swore she didn’t play favourites, but from an outside view it was clear that they held a special place separate from the rest. Anyone could see the way they appeared so much more frequently by her side. They were permitted to sit in on meetings, following her like a shadow. Some of the Harbingers guessed that she had picked them to be her successor; that their frequent shadowing was training them to take over once she was gone. Others joked about Arlecchino’s apparent soft side taking over. Whatever the reason, time went on, and the Fatui saw more and more of them.

All of them varied in their opinions of them—some indifferent, some fond—but the Harbingers all cared for them in their own ways.

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Columbina simply adores them. They’re just so small and cute, so tiny and fragile! Admittedly, her idea of ‘tiny’ is rather skewed—applying to anyone she deems weaker than her (notably, this label also gets given to Capitano and Tartaglia, despite their larger size and physical strength. The Damselette is truly an enigma.)

Whenever Arlecchino allows her to watch over them, she is delighted. She has a penchant for pet names, so ‘angel’, ‘my sweet’, and ‘lovely’ are all more commonly used than their name. Sometimes there’s a ‘baby’ or ‘bub’ if she’s feeling particularly affectionate, but no matter the name, it is always dripping with sweetness. She’ll sing to them too, to calm them down or get them to sleep. Her voice is gentle, laced with as much love as she would show her own child.

Some Fatui believe Columbina is a woman formed from hollow sweetness; that behind the lazy smile and soft voice, lies a callous and unfeeling heart, but her insistence on singing them to sleep comes from a place of genuine affection.

When they have to return home, she’ll kiss their cheeks and sweep them into a hug, making them promise to visit her soon.

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The fact that Arlecchino would tear out his throat with her bare hands if he dared to look at them the wrong way is the only thing stopping Dottore from roping [Name] into one of his experiments. Even then, he can’t help but investigate them a bit. Nothing extreme—please put the knife down, Knave—just some simple trials to see how they work. A quick strength assessment, a test of their reflexes, enough to judge the effectiveness of the House of the Hearth’s training.

The segments all had different opinions of them, varying from Prime’s general indifference to some of the younger segments fondness towards them. The latter were less likely to try to trick them into the lab—not that Arlecchino would allow them anywhere near it without strict supervision—and instead focused their efforts on convincing them to help mess with the rest of the Dottores. They proved to be an excellent partner in crime to thoroughly ruin the older segment’s day.

Despite his assertion that he won’t harm them, Dottore tends to be the one Arlecchino trusts least around her child. His unwillingness to get on her bad side doesn’t stop her from insisting Columbina or herself accompany them whenever they visit his lab.

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Tartaglia loves them. The days he gets to see his siblings are few and far between, so he’s always eager to play the older brother for them, and for any other House of the Heath kids that stop by. In fact, whenever any of the children visit, he makes sure to buy them plenty of sugary treats and candies before quickly sending them back to their Father.

(Arlecchino was not happy the first time this happened. It didn’t stop him from doing it every time, though.)

He was the first to convince them to call him Uncle, a feat that he bragged about to the rest of the Harbingers. This small incident would inadvertently lead to a petty competition to see who their favourite is, an event that would quickly spiral out of control with bribery and promises coming from all sides.

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Sandrone is very particular with who she allows in her workshop. When the rare guest was allowed inside, they had to follow three simple rules: do not touch anything, do not move unless I tell you to, and do not talk to me while I work. When [Name] first stumbled into the room, she was prepared to discourteously shoo them out the way she did whenever Tartaglia poked his head in to see what she was working on. But after some extensive begging, she relented and sat them down in a corner to watch her work. 

Even if she is far less fond of them as some of the other Harbingers, she still audibly squeaked the first time she was called Aunt Sandrone. This was covered up with a cough, but nothing could stop the warmth blooming in her chest. It was the first time a living creature had addressed her with such a familial title; some of her synthetic creations had a habit of calling her Mother, but this was a living, breathing person.

After they started calling her that, she quietly told them they were free to visit when she was working—provided they did not interfere with anything. 

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As much as he denies it, Scaramouche has a big soft spot for kids. He’ll swear up and down that he doesn’t care for them at all, but he treats them noticeably gentler than he treats any other member of the Fatui. Arlecchino once caught them huddled against him, using his wide-brimmed hat to shelter from the rain. She never let him forget that moment—the fearsome Balladeer, who notoriously never let anyone close enough to touch him, allowing her child to use him as an umbrella.

They remind him a little too much of the young boy he once considered his family. Whenever he spends time with them, there is something inside that both urges him to protect them in the way he couldn’t protect that child, and warns keep them at arm’s length before they betray him too. But his endearment towards them prevailed, and he begrudgingly allowed them a place in his heart.

Unlike Columbina’s affectionate pet names, the only nicknames Scaramouche gives them are ‘kid’ and ‘brat’, depending on his mood. On good days, they might even get called by their name, though it is a rarity. He cares for them, truly. In his own, strange way.

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Capitano is the best at giving advice out of all the harbingers. He is much more down to earth than Columbina and Dottore, and far less cynical than Scaramouche and Sandrone. He’ll let them ramble about their frustrations freely before offering gentle suggestions on what they should do to help. Even if they aren’t looking for a solution, he’s patient enough to hear out their thoughts, however jumbled and incoherent they may be.

He also likes teaching them skills he deems important for a young person to know. These include cooking—Tartaglia is not allowed to join them in these lessons after he almost burnt down the kitchen trying to ‘help’—as well as sewing and mending clothes.  

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Pantalone never would describe himself as parental. He never cared too much for kids; he hadn’t enough patience to deal with constantly crying babies or needy toddlers. Arlecchino’s child was thankfully far above that age, so they were less unbearable to deal with.

He was quite happy to spoil them with extravagant gifts and treats to win their favour, but the most effective way he does so is simply spending time with them. Trips to luxurious restaurants for lunch, allowing them to shadow him while he works. He also likes to give them advice—completely unasked for—about life, and relationships. Unlike Capitano however, his advice is of a much less helpful; he has a habit of advocating for blackmail for solving problems.

In exchange for a box of the most expensive pastries in Teyvat, he got them to call him their favourite uncle in front of Tartaglia. The miniscule dent in his funds was worth the look of betrayal on the younger Harbinger’s face.

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Signora easily took the longest to warm up to them. When she first met them, it was easy enough to label them as Arlecchino’s brat and move them from her mind. But they kept appearing, in and around the headquarters. At first they were always glued to the Knave’s side, but eventually Signora began to see them wandering alone through the halls. She took note of them—not out of any attachment to them, only out of self-preservation knowing that if Arlecchino found out her child landed themself into trouble while she was close by, it would be her funeral soon.

The sense of obligation faltered when she started to grow fond of them. They were irritatingly innocent, a rarity within the Fatui. Something about the spark in their eyes reminded her of when she was young—when she still had warmth in her heart and blood in her veins. For the first time in centuries, her frozen heart began to thaw with care towards another person, and begrudgingly, she began to accept that they were not as unpleasant as she once believed.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[lordprettyflackotara]

obsessed || matt sturniolo

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. 🚨STALKER MATT ALERT. STALKER MATT ALERT🚨 tw: stalker insanely obsessed w you matt, overstimulation, matt’s obsessed with the idea of you belonging to him, kinky sex but what did you expect be honest. ENJOY!

Fuck, Matt was perfect.

You sat across from Matt at a high end restaurant, swirling your wine around in its glass. The date was going insanely well, the two of you hitting it off. You shared a lot of the same interest and seemed to get each other’s sense of humor. You found Matt charming and funny, his attractiveness only adding on top of that. You had met him by chance, awkwardly spilling coffee on him in a crowded local coffee shop. You immediately bonded over disliking mainstream coffee shops. Admittedly you took extra time trying to dab Matt’s white shirt. It was easy allowing yourself to ever so slowly fall in love.

Matt knew the date was going well, considering that’s how he planned it to go. You weren’t a very discreet person, your name plastered all over social media to show the world your accomplishments. Trip to Florida? Instagram post. Getting your associates degree? Facebook post. You were determined to show the world that you were something, somebody. He knew that’s how you’d want him to make you feel, like somebody special. It wasn’t hard for him to do so, with how adorable you were. Matt studied hard for his date with you, scoping out every scrap of an interest he could pinpoint.

It wasn’t hard to look at the little details of your instagram post. Nor was it hard to find your address.

Again, being discreet was not in your skill set. Posting the keys to your first apartment was almost too revealing. It didn’t take a genius to look up the model of the key, find the knob, and pinpoint which apartments had said doorknobs locally. He narrowed it down by area, taking into account where you worked as well as where you posted. Your college was fully online, most of your time dedicated to working. Matt would know, considering he followed you to work.

Matt knew you hated big corporations, the brunette making it a habit to go get coffee just at the same time as you. He knew when the shop was its busiest. He knew what your order was. Your spilling coffee on him was a breeze, him knowing you only drank iced coffee during the summer to cool you off in the mornings. He made sure to make his move when the shop was crowded, the two of you ‘accidentally’ walking into each other. You were so cute when you blushed, trying to clean his shirt with a handful of shitty napkins.

After studying your social media it was easy to see what kind of man you wanted. Kind, but not clueless. Protective, but not controlling. More importantly, he found your twitter. It didn’t have your real name on it. Trust him, it took a lot of digging to find it. It was full of pure filth, retweets of porn or smut. He always paid close attention to your captions specifically. Retweeting was one thing, your typed words were another. You wanted to be manhandled more than anything, according to your twitter.

You wanted someone to slut you out. To spit in your mouth and humiliate you. Matt could do that, he’d be happy to do that. More so than you could imagine, really. But he tried to push that knowledge aside as he sat in front of you at a candlelight dinner. The waiter picked up the check, Matt’s golden credit card peaking out of the top. “Dinner was fantastic, thank you again Matt,” You say, placing your hand on top of his across the table. Were you purposely pushing your breast upwards or was Matt hallucinating?

“Don’t thank me, it was really my pleasure,” Matt replied, giving you a sly grin as the waiter returned with his card. The two of you exited the restaurant hand and hand, your fingers lacing with his. “How far are you from here?” Matt asked. He knew how far. Maybe five minutes, seven tops if he walked slow to accommodate your being in heels. But he wanted you to make the call. “I’ll call a taxi, i’m twenty away. We should grab coffee tomorrow morning,” You lied, giving him a big grin. Matt picked up the hint. You liked him enough to want to see him again. But you most certainly did not trust him enough to walk you home.

Fair play.

“Sounds great. See you at seven?” Matt asked. You nodded, both of you exchanging fairwells. Matt turned the corner, allowing you to play pretend that you were calling a cab. Once you thought the cost was clear, you began walking your actual way home. You were smart to not trust Matt immediately, Boston certainly having a way of roughing everyone up a bit. But did you really think it was a better idea to walk home alone at night wearing that dress? With those heels? Matt was doing you an act of service more than anything else, making sure you got home safely.

The shadows of the night became his friend and most useful tool as he slowly followed you. You were blissfully unaware of his presence. Yeah, definitely a good idea he followed you home. You slid inside of your apartment, Matt climbing into the tree he always did to watch you. The leafs provided the perfect amount of coverage. From strangers walking by and from you. Boston clearly did not rough you up as much as Matt would’ve thought, your curtains wide open. He watched you slide off your heels, plopping down on your couch.

He needed to gain your trust. He yearned to be the one in front of you, taking off your heels. Matt watched you pick up your phone, the action making him check his. Zero notifications. Who were you calling? Matt began to grow impatient as he watched you talk on the phone, a male voice audibly coming into earshot. He glanced down, watching as Chris slyly walked down the sidewalk. “Nah nah i’m just saying mcdonald’s ain’t all that bad ma. You just have to stop eating that organic shit,” Chris said into his phone, approaching the front door to your apartment.

Matt’s eyes narrowed as he watched you rush to answer the door, both of you hanging up your phones.

Y/n, what the fuck is this?

You yanked Chris by his shirt, dragging him inside of your apartment. Matt watched as Chris got on top of you, kissing the side of your neck. Matt sat in disbelief, unsure of what to do. His brother? His goddamn brother? He sat in the tree painfully as Chris unzipped your dress, revealing your lacey black bra. Matt rolled his eyes. Oh come on, you definitely wore that for him. What made you change your mind? Surely Chris got into your head.

That’s what it had to be. You wouldn’t fuck Matt’s brother like that, right? He continued to watch until Chris briefly departed from you, yanking the curtains shut.

Matt sat in the tree for what felt like a million years, his brain racking itself on what to do. It wasn’t until the bathroom light flickered on in the apartment next door. Your apartment had two floors, the top only occupying a small bedroom and bathroom. Matt smirked as the dangerous idea crept into his head. As steadily as possible he climbed the thickest tree branch, reaching your bathroom window. It was absurdly tiny, Matt suddenly thankful he skipped out on dessert at the restaurant.

His fingers gripped the windows rim, sliding it upwards slowly. You were always so naive, believing no one would come inside like this. Thats why you had to be Matts. You needed him to protect you. And he needed you so the air could circulate in his lungs.

If Matt knew his brother, which he very much so did, he would not make you finish. In this very moment, Matt had never been more thankful for his brothers pitiful sex skills. Matt loved Chris dearly, enough to where he was only contemplating getting rid of him. After all, he was a mutt straying into his territory. And that territory happened to be the cunt he was fucking right now. Matt stayed behind the shower curtains, waiting silently. He dug around in his suit pocket, taking out a small pocket knife.

Matt flicked it open, the blade dimly illuminated in the moonlight. He waited quietly for his brother, knowing Chris obtained a pitiful bladder. Your moans were delightful to Matt’s ears, you were just moaning the wrong name. Some of your moans sounded fake as well, your vocal cords straining too much. Matt rolled his eyes. Did his dumbass brother even know where the clit was? Your moans came to an abrupt halt, Chris verbally grunting. Matt’s eyebrows furrowed. Yeah, you didn’t cum.

Matt listened intently to Chris’s footsteps, the bathroom door opening. His brother lazily flicked on the light, beginning to pull his pants down. Matt was on him in a flash, shoving the shower curtain out of the way. One of his hands covered Chris’s mouth, the other occupied by holding the knife to his throat. “Shh shh shh. Don’t make a sound or i’ll slit your throat,” Matt whispered. Chris’s eyes widened with fear, his face becoming pale.

“You’re going to go down there and tell her you don’t want to see her again. That she was nothing but a quick fuck,” Matt growled. Chris’s eyebrows furrowed, a muffled ‘why’ audible to Matt’s ears. He pressed the knife closer to his adam’s apple, his heart pounding with adrenaline. “You’re not really in a position to ask questions Christopher,” Matt murmured. Chris tried to back away, his body pressed against the pale yellow wall. Matt licked his dry lips, remembering Chris was his brother.

“She’s mine you dickwad. You come near her again I won’t be so forgiving,” Matt whispered. His eyes flickered back and forth, deranged as he studied Chris’s expression. His brother was finally understanding. It was finally computing. “I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth now. If you say anything about this happening i’ll slit your throat in your goddamn sleep,” Matt snarled. He went to raise his hand before hesitating. “I’ll kill your pretty blonde girlfriend too. Do you understand?” Matt asked sternly.

Chris nodded, swallowing as Matt removed his hand from his mouth. “I understand,” Chris uttered, terror painted across his face. Matt cocked his head towards the door, signaling for Chris to get on with it. As soon as his back was turned, Matt couldn’t help but say one last thing. “Oh and Chris?” He said. Chris slowly looked behind him, his fingertips just having glazed the bathroom doorknob.

“Make it convincing.”

Chris was lucky he knew how to follow instructions for once. Matt listened closely as he stomped downstairs. He put his ear to the door, listening as Chris screaming insults and profanities at you. The words whore and slut were thrown around loosely, the sound of your voice cracking breaking Matt’s heart. But this is how it had to be. He couldn’t possibly share you. What if Chris had done this out of his own accord? What if he was stupid enough to get bored of you one day? This was for your own good.

“Don’t fucking call me either!” Chris yelled, slamming the front door behind him. Matt ran over to the bathroom window, watching as his brother scrambled to run down the street. A cocky smirk crossed Matt’s lips, that expression soon fading when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Fuck. It was you.

“Hi there,” Matt whispered, greeting you when he answered the phone.

“Hey. Why are you whispering?”

“Nicks asleep. He finally just drifted off. We’ve been talking since he got home.”

Lies lies lies. Please believe them.

“Oh im sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just uh-”

You had stopped yourself, Matt temporarily wondering if he was breathing too hard into the phone.

“What’s up love?”

“I just wanted to know if you wanted to come over.”

Oh tonight just couldn’t get any sweeter.

It was not the easy to climb out of the window, excitement rushing through Matt’s veins. He had told you twenty minutes, meaning he had time to kill. After clumsily climbing down the tree he took a moment to compose himself. He was still dressed up from dinner. Shit. He shoved off his suit jacket, shoving inside a patch of bushes in your yard. He ran his fingers through his hair, steadying his breathing.

The end goal was in sight, it was near. All Matt had to do was fuck you into oblivion. He had to show you he was better than his imbecile brother or any other man who looked your way. That he could make you squirm and beg for more. He loosened his tie, shoving his hands in his pockets before strolling up to the front door. He knocked on the front door, anxiously awaiting to see your beautiful face.

You opened the door, surprised to see Matt. “I was just about to call you. I realized I forgot to give you my apartment number. How’d you find me?” You asked. Your apartment was generic, lined up with at least fifty that looked just like it. Matt gave you a charming smile. “The rose bushes out front. Not only are they your favorite flower, but they’re only suitable for someone as gorgeous as you,” He purred, watching your cheeks flush pink. He couldn’t tell if you were flustered from lust or his brother leaving you unsatisfied.

“You’re cute. Come in come in,” You ushered, moving aside for him to come in. You walked over to the kitchen, your dress wrinkled and obviously just thrown on. The zipper wasn’t all the way up, your hair wild and untamed from your earlier affair. “Wine?” You asked, gesturing to your wine cabinet. Matt knew about this as well, your fixation on wine adorable. “Absolutely. I’ll take whatever you think is best, I have no preference,” He said, giving you a small smile. It wasn’t long before the two of you were sitting on your couch with wine glasses in hand.

The same couch where Chris was buried into your cunt an hour ago tops. But as you dazzled Matt with conversation he couldn’t help but try to ignore it, knowing he would hypnotize you with his cock. “I have to be transparent with you. I’m surprised you invited me over,” Matt told you, setting his unfinished glass of wine on your coffee table. Your eyebrows furrowed, your lips sipping your wine of choice. “Why’s that?” You asked curiously.

“Well it’s late and we had plans early tomorrow. I just can’t help but wonder what changed your mind?”

You bit your bottom lip, before taking one final sip of your wine. You placed your glass on the table, climbing into Matt’s lap. You straddled him, his hands finding your waist with ease. “You did, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” You lied, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. Matt made a mental note to teach you the importance of not telling lies. He couldn’t help himself, reaching up and placing his lips against yours.

Despite seeing your bdsm sub page on twitter, Matt was not quite sure that’s what you wanted from him. Of course he would be anything you wanted him to be. Sub? Dom? Switch? Vanilla? Whatever you wanted. He knew down the line you’d want to explore those kinks, but would you really want to now? You playfully nibbled at his bottom lip, pulling it towards you before releasing. “I wanna be yours,” You whispered. You lowered your hips onto his, grinding against his hard boner.

“Make me yours Matt.”

Huh, you really did want that right off of the bat.

You being so straightforward only turned him on more, his hands flipping you around and placing your back against the couch. Matt began kissing down your neck, sucking harshly at your skin. He knew you wanted this, your filthy online confessions all he needed to know. “M-Matt,” You whimpered, trying to buck your hips upwards. You sounded so beauty moaning his name. His hands reached behind you, unzipping your dress and throwing it aside. He chose not to question the lack of bra or panties, something you clearly hadn’t thought about earlier.

Instead Matt chose to be grateful he had easy access, his hips trailing down to your breast. “Matt please fuck me, fuck,” You groaned, tilting your head back as he took one of your nipples into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, lightly grazing it with his teeth. “Patience baby. Let me take care of you,” Matt purred. He moved on to your other nipple, the cool air only making both of them more perky.

You were very vocal, your whines and whimpers ones Matt could appreciate. He made a mental note to never gag you, your noises too heavenly. “Your body is so beautiful. So ethereal,” Matt praised. He watched closely at your reaction, trying to see just how much praised turned you on. He brought two fingers to your soaked entrance, running them up and down your slit. “This wet for me already? You’re such a slut,” Matt spat. The moan that left your hips was more feral, more desperate.

Yeah, you wanted him to do both.

Matt delivered a sharp slap to your cunt, causing you to whine and your hips to jolt. “So fucking filthy,” Matt muttered, shoving two fingers inside of you. He curled his slender digits, pumping them against your g spot. Matt guessed easily Chris hadn’t given you any form of foreplay, your moans much more sinful as he finger fucked you. “Such a good girl for me. Look at you. Taking my fingers like a good whore,” Matt praised, smirking to himself as your walls clenched around him.

He brought his other hand to your clit, rubbing fast and aggressive circles around it. Your moans became louder, Matt’s pace refusing to slow down anytime soon. “Matt feels soooo good fuck,” You slurred, your eyes fluttered shut as you soaked in the pleasure. Matt could feel your orgasm coming, his ego fixing to grow ten times bigger. “Yeah? You gonna cum for me?” Matt taunted. You nodded, grabbing onto the couch. “Go on then, cum on my fingers like the good little girl you are,” Matt ordered.

He was delighted at the feeling of your walls spasming around him, begging for his cock. Matt gave you a moment to come down before repositioning himself. He bent down in between your legs, kissing the inside of your thighs. You were still dazed, blinking as you sat up to look down at Matt. “I’m too sensitive I c-can’t. Just fuck me, please,” You pleaded. Matt pressed another tauntingly slow kiss to your inner thigh, before hovering over your folds. His breath was hot against your cunt, your core begging for more.

“Just wanna taste you baby. Let me make you feel good. Relax for me,” Matt cooed. He knew that you were into overstimulation. Shit, that was quite literally retweeted so many times onto your twitter feed it was glued into his brain. You were practically begging anyone to overstimulate you into oblivion. “Thats it. That’s my good fucking whore,” Matt chuckled, licking a stripe up your cunt. You moaned loudly, your hand flying down to his hair. You yanked at his locs, Matt diving into your cunt like a starved man.

The feeling of you squeezing his head between your thighs was euphoric, this moment one Matt had dreamed of. “Matt, it’s too much-” You groaned, gasping as his lips attached themselves to your clit. He sucked at the sensitive bud, your juices coating his chin. You tasted so sweet, your trembling thighs only making the situation sweeter. “Fuck, right there, Matt i’m gonna cum,” You warned, pushing his head deeper into your cunt. Matt repeated the same motion with his lips and tongue, abusing your poor little clit to his liking.

Your thighs shook as you came, squirting directly into Matt’s mouth. Matt was happy to drink all of it, returning to your cunt to lick you as clean as possible. You were so fucking addicting and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. Matt crawled forward, pressing a sloppy kiss to your swollen lips. You were out of breath, your heart racing as you waited eagerly for him to fuck you. Matt didn’t waste any further time, shoving himself inside of you.

Your walls fluttered around his length, struggling to take him. “You feel so good,” You moaned, throwing your head back. Matt smirked as he watched his cock from your stomach, his girth stretching you out. “So do you baby. You’re so perfect. Made to take my cock,” Matt said, grabbing both of your legs. He threw them over his shoulders, your ankles dangling by his head as he began ramming into you. Your walls were milking him, begging him to fuck you senseless.

“I’m going to do this every fucking day. You’re mine. This is my cunt, do you understand?” Matt asked, leaning over you. His thrust were merciless, his angle only turning you more into a squirming mess as he went deeper. You nodded profusely, the noises escaping your lips sinful and raw. “Mine to fuck, mine to play with,” Matt huffed, abusing your cunt as he pleased. He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Mine to breed,” He smirked, hiding his smile as your walls fluttered around his cock again.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? To be bred by me like this over and over and over,” Matt taunted, his hips continuing to pound into yours. You were babbling mess, mixes of pleas with strings of curses escaping your darling lips. “You’re mine, you belong to me,” Matt said. He frowned as he noticed your eyes were screwed shut, your face scrunched up in pleasure. His hips continued fucking you as he grabbed your face, forcing your lips to pucker out like a fish.

“You hear me slut? You belong to me. Do you understand?” Matt asked, his eyes flickering back and forth to study yours. Your pupils were blown with lust, your walls milking his cock for everything he had. “Yes daddy, i’m yours,” You replied obediently, his hand instantly retreating from your face. “You’ve done it now,” He murmured, grabbing your hips. Matt began to pound into you harder, drilling into you deeper. You were hanging on by a thread, your orgasm approaching quickly.

“Fucking cum on my cock, go on. Cum on my fucking cock so I can breed you. Get you pregnant,” Matt ordered, the idea of cumming inside of you only driving him more feral. You screamed his name as you came around his cock, your legs violently trembling as Matt thrust into you one last time. Your walls demanded every last drop of cum Matt could provide. Your cunt was full of his seed, your fate sealed in the worst way possible. Matt slowly pulled out of you, both of you panting softly.

He meant what he said: you belonged to him. And soon enough you’d realize just how much that truly meant.

[luvergirl777]

Sweet Girl | Spencer Reid

Pairing | Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count | 3k, not bad. 

Genre | Fluff, Smut 

Summary | Spencer is tired, so tired. He knows only one thing could possibly cheer him up. His sweet girl.

Index | Kinda sub Spencer, he's tired and want's to be taken care of, you're more than happy to do that, smut, unprotected sex, love confessions lol, they're perfect for each other, established relationship, pinning, cute shit.

There are so many thoughts in Spencer’s brain, there always is. It’s impossible for them to slow down, he’s always so busy. Even when he’s not working, he’s thinking about the next case, the next degree, the next time he’ll be called into office for a dire case. It’s exhaustive and it feels impossible to just breathe for more than a moment. His morale started to slip, work becoming messy, cases blurring together, memory almost shot.

Until he met you, everything was hard, until he met you. It was an accident, technically. His morning coffee cafe wasn’t open, forcing him to break his routine that he’s had for months. As soon as he spotted you, the new (and out of his way) cafe instantly became his new favorite. Smart and kind, the sweetest smile always worn on your face. He swears you’re the smartest person he’s ever met, always ignoring you whenever you point out his multiple PHDs and ever continuous education journey. 

You force him to look at things differently, not really trying to, but you do. It’s refreshing, it’s amazing to him how it works, a breath of fresh air. Since he’s realized the difference in himself when he’s with you, he’s fallen head over heels. Your apartment is small and cozy, warm lighting and blankets everywhere. He’s at your apartment more than he is his own, feels more at home. 

You ease his mind, make everything easier. He can just be himself around you without any worry about needing to prove something. He can relax for the first time in what feels like years. It almost kills him to have to go away for cases, kills him even more when the cases last weeks or months. He spares you almost all the details, much like Garcia whenever he can. It’s not what you signed up for. Even when you ask, he only really tells you public knowledge. He keeps you separate from his work, he needs you separate from his work. His sweet girl, he’d like to keep it that way. 

Spencer’s exhausted, beyond exhausted he thinks. He can’t remember the last time he’s been away from you for this long, the last time he’s truly felt this horrible. His shoulders are heavy, eye bags growing from the exhausting 3 weeks he’s had. Kill, after kill, after kill, with no motive, no tracts, no suspects. He felt like a newbie again at the BAU, unable to track down their unsub. It feels like he’s failing everyone and himself, it was beginning to tear him down. 

Nightmare after nightmare, he was almost unable to sleep for the three weeks he’s been gone. The day they found the unsub, he almost cried with relief. The entire team almost cried, really. Generally he’s not emotional by any means, tries to stay objective in his work, but this time he just couldn’t. He’s happy, thrilled, to be home despite admittedly being a bit dishevelled from the trip. Unshaven, worn down, exhausted, eye bags, the list goes on and on. 

You’ve missed him too, but you’ve tried to keep your calling and texting at bay so as to not distract him from his work. As he makes his way home, you almost bubble with excitement. The door is loud as it unlocks, heavy click overpowering the soft instrumental vinyl that was filling the silence. Your feet run to meet him at the door, more than excited. The door opens, revealing a tired Reid. It’s the worst you’ve seen him in awhile, maybe in over a year you think. 

You’ve known Spencer for a while now, seen arguably the worst sides of him. This isn’t quite that, but it is pretty close to it. The slouch and far-out look tells you almost everything you need to know. 

“Oh, Spence.” You call to him softly, watching as his feet don’t move, eyes taking you in as you cautiously approach him as if he were a wounded animal. He doesn’t say anything, watching as you reach for his shoulders. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand, hands gently cupping his face and thumbs gently rubbing his cheeks as you comfort him. “Come, step inside.” You almost whisper, gently pulling him inside by his hands, warm. 

A small smile grows on his face as you take off his suit jacket, palms massaging his shoulders and biceps as you do so. You sway softly to the music, almost dancing into the kitchen as you pull him along. “Let’s eat, Spence.” You smile, sitting him down first. At this level, you easily reach his temple where you place a soft kiss. You don’t have to, but you’re more than happy to prepare a plate for Spencer. The music is comforting, the two of you sitting close, your foot brushing against his leg when you cross your legs. 

You happily clean up after the two of you, dancing around the kitchen as you entertain Spencer in the meantime. “How’re you feeling?” You hum, Spencer’s arms wrapping around your waist as you stand directly in front of him. He easily pulls you forward into his embrace. Your arms wrap around his neck, his face burying into the crook of your shoulder as you do so. 

“Better.” It’s all you need, all he needs to say. He’s putty in your hands as you softly pull him forward and off the kitchen bench, easily leading him to the shower. 

He’s so grateful for you, he thinks silently, to himself. He’s never felt like this for someone, and for the longest time, he was afraid he just couldn’t. He could never understand wanting someone with you everyday of the year, living in the same space, sharing everything. The thought used to make him nauseous. The thought of being with someone intimately used to make his skin crawl. But with you, it’s different, everything is different. 

He craves coming home to you, craves your touch after a long day, craves hearing your voice, craves your presence, craves your intimacy. He melts in your hold, his brain is able to finally shut off after a long day. All the thoughts, running miles a minute, goes away. 

He feels like he could cry as you run a shower for him, gently unbuttoning his white button up, fiddling with his belt to take off his pants, kissing his skin better, unknowingly healing him. “Y/n, please shower with me.” He mumbles, kicking his shoes and pants off, undressing the rest of the way. He steps in, watching as you undress before quickly joining him. 

“I’ve been worried about you, pretty boy.” You smile as you step inside, his arms immediately wrapping around your body. He’s tired and homesick, obviously so as he sinks into you. 

“I know, I know,” He nods along, hands sliding up to hold your head in his palms. “I’m okay, I promise.” Spencer smiles, gently kissing your forehead, back down to your cheeks, and finally connecting your lips. You immediately return the kiss, desperate for his touch, his lips on yours. 

“I know you are.” You smile, mumbling against his lips. Spencer smiles too, pulling you deeper into the kiss, closer to his body. You can’t help the small moan that slips when you feel him against you, shaky hands pu\lling him closer roughly by his back. 

“It’s always the best coming back to you, though,” Spencer almost groans into your mouth, making you weak in the knees as he does so. “I can hold my own, but there’s nothing better than coming home to you.”

“Spence, we gotta clean you up,” You almost whimper at your own words, sadly pulling away from him. “Had a rough couple of weeks.” Spencer just nods along, allowing you to do as you please. He’d let you do anything, always. He melts as your hands meet his hair, shampooing and conditioning. He doesn’t melt when you wash his body, quite the opposite as his skin burns hot as your hands rub along his body. 

“Please,” Spencer whines, quickly doing the same for you. He needs to get out of this before he loses his mind, he thinks. As soon as you’re both clean, his lips almost slam against yours, needy, almost desperate. “I’ve missed you so much,” He whines, complaining. 

“Come, Spence.” You mumble, lips against his shoulder as you talk to him. Your face and ears are burning hot, wanting to get out of the shower quickly. Spencer follows you without a hitch, quickly wrapping the both of you in fizzy towels as he places another kiss to your shoulder. “I’ve missed you, Spencer.” You smile at him, walking backwards out of the bathroom. He follows happily, a tired smile painted across his features. A towel hangs low on his waist as he follows. 

“I’m really tired, hun, I won’t lie.” Spencer mumbles as he sits down on the bed, fluffy towel becoming loose when his grip leaves it. A whimper leaves his lips when you straddle his hips, core bare as you lower your weight. He can feel your warmth, mind growing fuzzy almost immediately as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close. You don’t make a move to hurry things up, only tucking his hair behind his ears as you glance over his face. 

“So pretty, Spencer.” You mumble as you talk to him, continuing to play with his hair. “I’ll do the work, I just want you to feel good. Feel good after being away for so long, working so hard,” You mumble against his shoulder as you kiss it. Your town easily falls backwards off of your shoulders, leaving you bare on top of Spencer. “You gonna let me do that? Gonna be good?”

“Yes, yes please.” Spencer mumbles, roughly connecting your lips. His grip tangles in your hair, pulling as close as he possibly can. You whine into his mouth, hips grinding against him, so close yet so far, chest pressed flush against his own. You lift yourself onto your knees, pulling at Reid’s towel to move it off of his lap. You drop your weight back down as soon as possible, grinding against Reid’s cock, easily slipping through your folds. 

“Want you, miss you so much,” You complain, for no particular reason. You know Spencer is more than happy to give you what you want, almost wants it just as badly. “I want it.”

“Take it, sweet girl, take it.” He groans into your mouth, sloppily kissing you as if his life depends on it. His palms knead at your flesh, touching and holding everything you can reach. You whimper when his hands knead your inner thighs, so close to where you need him the most. “Need it just as bad. I’ve missed you so much, love you so much.”

Your hips lift up, Spencer helping you out the slightest as he lines up his cock for you. Your legs shake as you sink back down, hips connecting with a small slap. You both share a moan, needy hands pulling one another as close as physically possible. Spencer throbs as you grind against his cock, completely inside you, clit rubbing against his skin. It doesn’t feel that good to him, but watching you shake and whimper is almost enough to get him off. 

“I love you, Spencer.” You mumble, finally building the strength to lift yourself up, bouncing on his cock. You know exactly what Spencer likes, what he wants, moving exactly how he needs you to. You know where he’s sensitive, how to get him to tick. As you kiss his neck and squeeze around him, he swears he can stay here forever with you. He wants to stay forever, not here, maybe not this specifically, but with you. He wants to be with you, forever. 

“Y/N, I- oh fuck,” Spencer whines as you speed up, desperately chasing his moans, wanting to hear him. He feels embarrassingly close already, all of his senses full of you. You’re so tight and warm, goosebumps spreading across his skin. “Y/N, will you, uh, I want-” His words break off as he moans, feeling his abs tighten up as he fights off the urge to cum. To combat it, his fingers dip in between your bodies, gently rubbing circles into your sensitive clit. 

“Spencer, oh fuck.” You whine, tightening around him even more. “Gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum.” You bite softly into his chest, whimpers muffled by his skin. 

“Marry me,” Spencer whines, voice muffled and whiny. You don’t register his words, focused on the way his fingers rub circles into your clit, his other hand roughly guiding your hips as you bounce up and down on his cock, vice grip around him. Your thighs are shaking, teetering on the edge that you’re so close to falling off of. “Y/N, marry me.” Spencer's hands stop your movement entirely, giving you no stimulation as he holds your hips flush to his. 

“I-Spence, you’re mean-”

“Marry me, Y/N.” He cuts you off, not listening to the way you’re about to call him all sorts of names. “I love you so, so much. So perfect to me, Y/N. I want to be with you, forever. Please, marry me. I promise I’ll ask you in a cheesy, over the top way later, and we can say that was the official proposal. I never want to come home to anyone else but you.” 

“Spencer,” You can’t help the whine that struggles to escape your lips, squeezing around him even tighter. His grip doesn’t let up, holding you completely still. “This is a bit crazy to ask when I was about to cum all over your cock.” You giggle, hands coming to hold his face as your mind begins to clear just the slightest bit. “You know that, right?”

“I-I know. I was just thinking-” He starts, releasing his grip on you once he realizes your plight, allowing you to grind against him for some sort of stimulation. 

“You do that, a lot.” You giggle softly, biting back the moans as you move on top of him. 

“You do so much for me. It’s like, like when I’m with you, my brain quiets down. I don’t have to worry, don’t have to think a hundred miles a minute. I can just be me, when I’m with you.” Spencer rambles on, brows creasing as you speed up your movement, desperate to get there once again. “I can let you take care of me, love being around you.” 

“Spence, we’re gonna look back at this and laugh.” You giggle as you grind against his cock. Spencer goes back to rubbing tight circles against your clit, moaning when you tighten around him again, beginning to move up and down. 

“So, I’ll take that as a no th-”

“Of course, Spencer. Of course I’ll marry you, my pretty boy.” You grin hard, watching as his face completely lights up, matching your giant smile. A giant squeal escapes when he quickly flips the two of you over, your back hitting the bed before you can protest. “Spencer! I thought you were tired.” You laugh, immediately being shut up when his hips begin to move. 

“I was.” Spencer smiles, hips driving forward into you. You’re already so close, so worked up, that the change in position almost sends you over. “Now I have a fiance, it’s a bit exciting, you see.” Spencer laughs at your circumstance, all of the wit wiped clean as you mewl and moan underneath him. He does his best to sooth the shake in your thighs, hands rubbing the soft skin underneath them, hips never slowing. Like you, he knows what you like, exactly what you like, his memory doesn’t allow him to forget it. 

“You- oh fuck,” You whimper as he rubs ghost like circles into your clit, not needing much more stimulation and he knows that. 

“Come for me, please. Wanna feel you, want to hear it, need it Y/N.” He groans, leaning forward to kiss you, sloppy and messy. You’re trapped underneath him, the weight somehow overwhelming and exactly what you need. At the change of angle, his cock hits exactly where you need him, hips grinding against your clit with each movement. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, Spencer, coming.” You whimper, hands reaching for his back, scratching and pulling him closer. You’re almost impossible to push into as you cum, so sensitive and aroused that you clench so tightly around him. He whimpers into your skin, finally coming unraveled as it all catches up to him as well. 

“Good girl, so good.” Spencer groans into your skin. “Gonna cum for you, okay?” You nod eagerly, legs wrapping around his waist as you pull him close. 

“Cum inside, Spence, my sweet fiance.” You whine, thighs shaking from overstimulation. The name makes him fold, the way it slips so easily from your lips making him melt instantly. 

“Cumming, cumming.” He whines, sloppy thrusts slowing down as he does. You can’t help but whine with him, clit so sensitive that it’s almost driving you crazy. 

“Spencer,” You whine loudly, legs tightening to stop his movement completely. You’re too sensitive, it’s too much for you. “I love you.” You mumble, pulling him in for a kiss. 

“Love you, so much, the most.” Spencer mumbles, words soft and sincere as he speaks. Your legs slowly unwrap, sore and tired as you finally rest them. He’s moving slow as well, trudging into the bathroom for a damp towel to clean the two of you up. He’s almost sluggish by the time he’s done, tossing the towel into the bathroom without even really looking. You almost expect it as he collapses next to you, completely spent with his legs hanging off the bed. 

You giggle softly, rolling your eyes at the dramatics as he finally fully crawls into bed. You crawl next to him, propped up onto your elbow as you look down. “So, we're gonna tell our friends you asked me to marry you while balls deep?” You laugh almost directly into his face, hand coming to push hair behind his ear. 

“No.” It’s stern and final, no arguments accepted. At this, you laugh loudly. 

“C’monn, it would be funny, Morgan would love it.”

“That’s exactly why I’m scared. Listen, let’s sleep, before I rethink this decision.” He jokes dryly, a smile on his face when you finally give it up. You pull him close, cuddling into his side. 

“You’d never.”

“You’re right.” He hums, eyes falling shut. “I love you too much.”

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion & Scratch: Compromising for Tav Affection

This idea is entirely from @nairil-daeris and it's so cute!

~

Despite what some may have believed, Astarion wasn't that against associating with animals. He was actually a fan of a few of them, cats mainly considering their penance for cleanliness and independence. Not to mention they were admittedly adorable. And stood as the one type of beast that Astarion never feasted upon.

So no, he didn't hate animals in principle. He only hated a select few, with reason. Like the type that could rip him apart with their claws and fangs. Or the ones that thought that rolling around in their own filth was a worthwhile pastime. All and all, creatures that Astarion didn't have to deal with on the regular. Or at least not until now.

But here he was, stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere, with his ragtag group of merry weirdos. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his own acceptance into your little group. He did, immensely. By the look of things out here in this hellscape, he probably would have been murdered ten times over if he had remained alone. Or gods forbid, become a goblin's chew toy.

So while he had no intentions of leaving, he was still frustrated. Especially with the pretty little druid that quickly became their de facto leader. Astarion had been vaguely aware that druids had an intense love for nature and all of its creatures. But that hadn't prepared him for how unreasonable that love could be. It felt as though you would take literally every opportunity you had to speak to any lowly pest on the side of the road.

Not to mention your insistence on taking care of a damned owlbear cub, which was an objectively stupid thing to do. Something that he should have fought you on harder but... he wasn't made of stone. The thing was objectively adorable. Even if it was almost certainly destined to grow up and try to kill you all, Astarion kept his mouth mostly shut.

But then came the dog. That god-damned dog. How a singular mutt could make his life so damn difficult, Astarion wasn't sure. But he did know that he was trying to enact a well-thought out plan. Seduce you, foster a protective affection that was strong enough for you to always want him alive, perhaps use you to defeat Cazador if the parasites proved strong enough, and then effectively abandon you for a new life of freedom.

It was all very simple, and he had gotten a great head start. You had spent the last few weeks flirting with each other, always staying close. You gravitated towards each other, a fact that felt more natural than Astarion would have liked. But... he had found himself enjoying his time with you, genuinely. Not that it mattered, but it was definitely a plus for his plan. Being with you was far from unbearable. You were attractive, sweet, a little angel just begging to be corrupted. A job that Astarion was growing excited to start.

He had been so, so close to fully propositioning you, completely confident that you would agree. And then Scratch happened. He hadn't thought much of it when you came across the little mutt. Maybe it would stay with the corpse of its owner or it would be another hanger-on like the owl bear. He hadn't had a horse in the race either way.

But then he did show up to the camp, looking so sad and dejected that even Astarion couldn't be bothered that his arrival completely interrupted his first attempt at asking you to bed. He had watched you pet and whisper to him for the rest of the night, providing a comfort that only a druid could.

Which was fine. Or at least it had been for that one night. That one night that kept repeating. Because suddenly, that damned dog was everywhere. The quiet nights the two of you had together by the fire, talking about anything and everything with your thighs pressed together now included Scratch squeezing himself into the middle.

The orchestrated moves he would do to make you blush, like removing a non-existent speck from your cheek with his thumb or leaning in close to remove a leaf from your hair, were getting harder and harder to pull off. The damned mongrel was always there, and any attempts Astarion took to get close to you Scratch used as an invitation to jump all over him. If he had it to wash his face of dog slobber one more time from the crime of trying to hold your hand, he was going to go ballistic.

And there was zero reprieve. The thing went with you everywhere, even in the most perilous of situations. Worst of all, it actually proved to be useful. Astarion had no idea where the thing was trained, but it was incredibly smart. Smart enough to serve as a perfect distraction when needed, while being clever and fast enough to never get himself killed. He could even function as a spy, considering how you could make sense of all of his whining and barking. And worst of all, the little beast was amazing at thievery, with nothing more than his mouth. No one suspected the adorable dog to be the one stealing your coin purse right off of your belt. He was completely inconspicuous, perhaps even more so than Astarion. A fact that... was not sitting well.

How on earth was he being outclassed by a fucking dog? One that he had no valid arguments to leave behind at camp.

And to top it all off, you even slept with it. You slept with both animals, usually huddled up in a pile beneath the stars. How you managed to not stink of dog breath and owlbear saliva in the morning, Astarion would never know.

How was he supposed to make you fall for him like this? In the past two weeks since you'd attached yourself completely to the thing, doting on him constantly. He had only managed to sleep with you once. The night of the celebration over the goblin slaughter, and what a lovely night it had been. But that was only because Scratch and the cub had been sufficiently distracted by all of the enamored tiefling children. The next night it was back to the same.

And Astarion was not willing to let the night you had together go as a one night stand. Maybe it wasn't necessary. It had become clear that you cared for him, you cared for all of them. Enough to put yourself in danger for every party member's protection. A strong friendship would probably do him just as good as a romance. But... that didn't feel like enough. He didn't want it to be enough. For reasons that he was not going to start examining now.

No, for now he was just focused on getting past your slobbery bodyguard. But he knew better than to bring it up to you directly. You were far too infatuated with the pup to see his side of things.

Gale had made a singular comment on a slight frustration over having to wait around for Scratch to sniff nearly everything he came into contact with, and that had ended in you giving him a half-hour lecture on the importance of understanding one's surroundings. Shadowheart had mentioned, once, just once, that perhaps it was time to start looking for a more appropriate family for the dog, and that had led to you giving her the cold shoulder for days.

No, if he was going to get more time alone with you Astarion would have to try other means. Which had led him here, swinging back a Potion of Animal Speaking with a grimace. It tasted oddly grassy, like he had just swallowed blended up lawn shavings. But he didn't have time to grouse over the taste, not when you were thoroughly distracted with talking about druid mythology with Halsin, Scratch left conveniently alone to dig holes in the back of camp.

And that was where Astarion was going. Because if he couldn't reason with you, perhaps he could reason with the mutt itself.

Part of him could not quite believe that he had to resort to speaking with a dog to further this relationship, but here he was.

Astarion stopped in front of him, swallowing back a grimace at how the thing was digging dirt directly on his shoes. Instead, he smiled down at it, his voice only slightly strained when he asked, "Can you understand me?"

Scratch stopped his digging, opting to sit and stare up at him, an oddly humanoid voice answering, "Yes."

Huh, so that's how this spell worked. It was a little disconcerting to hear a human voice from a dog's mouth, but he would make do. Astarion cautiously sat next to him, perching on a nearby log as he tried to keep a pleasant smile on his face, "Good. How are you?"

Scratch stared at him, his head cocked, "The dirt tastes good here. I like that."

That was... Astarion didn't know. It was his own fault for trying to make small talk with an animal. He cut straight to the point, "That's great to hear. Now, would you mind doing me a favor tonight?"

Astarion had never had a dog narrow its eyes at him before, but that's exactly what Scratch did, "What is it?"

"Nothing serious," Astarion tried to reassure, "I was just hoping that perhaps you and the cub could sneak off for a night so Tav and I could spend some time together-"

"No," Scratch interrupted circling the ground three times before laying down, his eyes still on Astarion.

"Excuse me?" Astarion shot back, his true annoyance shining straight through his voice, "It's not exactly much to ask for! It's one night-"

"I don't trust you around them," The dog said simply, "I think you're going to hurt them."

Well that was just offensive. Ever since this little brat's arrival Astarion had barely had a chance to drink from you. And the times he did he was perfectly in control. Not including the first time of course.

"I'll have you know that not every vampire is some hellish demon with no self-control," Astarion bit out, only the slightest bit amused at himself for being reduced to defending his own disgusting kind, "And why pray tell, would I hurt one of the only reasons I'm still alive."

Scratch shook his head, one eye closed like this conversation was boring him, "Not that kind of hurt. The inside kind, that makes people cry. I don't want them to cry."

That was-Astarion didn't-how in the hells could a dog see through him that easily?

"I have no intention of hurting them," Astarion lied. Or at least he thought it was a lie. It felt... uncomfortably true when spoken allowed, "I just want to have a little fun, that's all. Don't you think they've earned that?"

"Not with you. You don't like them enough," Scratch sighed, "I like Gale more. Or Wyll. Karlach too. They can have fun with them instead."

That was it. Astarion was going to wring this little shit's neck. But before he could give into his more violent impulses, he could hear your voice, calling out to the current root of all of his problems.

Scratch bounded up, his tail already wagging as he started to trot over. But before he fully did he turned around, giving Astarion a once over, "If you can prove you like them, then I'll consider it."

And just like that he was off, running to your side while leaving a stunned Astarion in his wake. Did... did he just get verbally annihilated by a damn dog? How was he supposed to go on after this? Not to mention he was actually thinking about what the creature said. It sounded like a challenge, one that Astarion was suddenly pissed enough to take up.

If the little shithead wanted sincerity, then he would get it. And that's how Astarion found himself willingly opening up more. Even if it had to be in front of the damn dog. He told you more about Cazador, the horrors and tribulations he had endured through centuries. He told you of his regrets, the things he missed the most about being a mortal. He even told you the truth about that first night that you let him drink from your neck. That... that you were the first. How good it had felt to have what he had been denied for so long. And he was rewarded with his honesty. He got to learn more and more about you in turn. Your family, your home, where you incessant love for nature derived from. He was starting to slowly become a Tav-expert, suddenly hungry for every bit of information that he could procure.

They were long conversations, long enough to last well into the night. And for Astarion to be exhausted enough to just... fall asleep in the first available location. Which just so happened to always be in the pile of creatures you liked to sleep with. Though, Astarion had to admit after experiencing it himself, it was oddly pleasant to be surrounded by the warm, furry little headaches.

As for the two of you, things were slowly progressing in regards to his plan. A plan that he continually kept conveniently forgetting about. You were together now at the least, even if Scratch hardly ever let you have a night alone. But you cuddled and kissed, called each other pet names and the like. And... it was nice. Perhaps even too nice. Because Astarion was starting to... feel things that he'd prefer to not.

He was getting too attached, too close. The idea of sex didn't even seem to matter anymore, let alone the idiocy of trying to convince a dog to help him in that department. He was knowing too much of you, and the fact that he seemed to adore everything he saw only made it worse. And then the two of you managed to kill that demon, getting more and more information about Cazador. You risked so much for him, and were willing to risk so much more. He couldn't take it anymore.

He had told you the next night, everything. His plan, his past, how easy it was to revert back into new tricks. But he didn't want that with you. Maybe he never did. He wanted something real, and by the gods above you wanted the same thing. He had half expected you to dump him completely after that little speech. But... you didn't. Instead you hugged him, comforted him for trying and failing to betray your trust. It was a kindness he didn't deserve, but one that he would gladly accept.

Everything felt easier after that. Yes there were still countless horrors hanging over your heads but... he had you. And with you he was starting to think he could get through anything.

Even Halsin's insistent flirting. He was watching you both now as you helped him nurse a dying sapling to health, his eyes tracking Halsin's every move as he pretended to read. While he trusted you more than anything, fully aware that you would never stray, it didn't stop the paranoia. Just one other aspect of being in a real relationship that he hadn't seen coming. Turns out, it involved being terrified of losing it all. Especially to handsome, bulky elf druids.

But before he could fret over it any longer, he felt a tugging on his pant leg. He glanced down, his brow furrowing when he saw Scratch there, his tail wagging and his tongue lolling out.

"What the hell do you want?" Astarion asked, his words completely unmatching his actions as he scratched him behind the ears. Don't get him wrong, he still at least semi-loathed the creature but... he's also not quite sure he would have gotten to this point without his intervention. So a reluctant appreciation for his existence it was.

Scratch continued to paw at his leg, a low whine in his throat as he cocked his head to the right. Astarion followed the motion, only getting more confused when he realized he was trying to point to another potion.

Astarion sighed as he picked it up, “What? You want me to understand a new dressing down speech?”

Scratch continued to wag his tail, letting out a happy bark as a confirmation. As much as Astarion would prefer to not spend an evening getting lectured by a dog, he was more than a little curious to see what he had to say. 

He swallowed it down, grimacing at the taste as he wiped his mouth, “Okay, out with it. What do you want?”

"I like you now," Scratch said excitedly, prancing back and forth in front of him, "And they like you too. Do you like them?"

In moments like this, Astarion really did wish he had the heart of stone that he pretended to carry. Because the unexpected approval from a random pup was suddenly making him feel almost teary eyed. Or it was the bitter taste of the potion, but either way the innocent words were making his heart ache pleasantly. 

Astarion swallowed, smiling down at him, “I like them very much. More than anyone before. And I’m starting to think you might not be so bad either.”

Scratch sat in front of him, resting his head in his lap as his tail wagged, a goofy smile on his adorable face, “It’s because I’m a good boy. They tell me so all the time. Are we friends now? We are right?”

“Yeah,” Astarion smiled as he ran a hand through his white coat, his eyes drifting over to you. You were watching them, grinning ear to ear with a hand over your heart, nearly moments away from swooning. He looked back down at the dog, his smile only widening, “We’re going to be great friends.”

[unluckiestmember]

can I get the main characters of blue eye samurai with a innocent fem reader? I loved your Arcane innocent reader <3

Coming right up!

Blue Eye Samurai X Innocent Fem! Reader

Characters: Mizu, Taigen, Ringo and Ito Akemi

Tags: Friends to lovers, workers to lovers, brothel, overprotective boyfriend/girlfriend, yandere themes, Ringo being Ringo, fluff, toxic(?) and open ending.

Warning: SFW

A/N: I'm so happy Blue Eye Samurai is getting the recognition it deserves! Who would you date? I'd get with Mizu or Taigen.

Mizu

“The stars are out tonight?... I can barely see them… It’s okay. At least I can see you… You’re beautiful…”

At first, Mizu found you to be as annoying like Ringo. You weren’t as annoying, but it was infuriating to travel with someone who was so fragile and couldn’t even defend themselves. She was surprised that with your demeanor you weren’t in a brothel or married to the next idiot of a samurai. She kept you at a distance, arm's length. But someway. Somehow. You slithered into her good graces and touched her heart.

When you two became a couple, Mizu began to treat you like a porcelain doll. If a man tried to touch you, their hand would be severed from their body in seconds. If someone bad-mouthed you, their tongue was cut out. Suddenly, you found yourself becoming a precious jewel to Mizu instead of a nuisance. During down time, she always checks up on you to see if you’re okay. Expect her to check if you have a temperature, if you’re hungry or thirsty. She wished deep down she could give up her mission to live a perfect life with you because that’s what you deserve. But promising such a thing is hard. At least for now, she has you and she will savor the time you both have together.

Taigen

“That was pretty cool, huh? You know I can teach you a thing or two if you say please… Haha! You’re cute when you pout!”

Unlike Mizu, Taigen found you to be a breath of fresh air on his journey to assist Mizu. He enjoyed how you were so pure in a world that was getting colder by the day. For a second, he was fearful of pursuing anything with you because of his relation to Akemi. But as the days went by and word started spreading fast of his lover’s affairs, the more Taigen lost hope in any future he could have with her. However, he gained hope in a future painted for you two.

Taigen is a mix of a man child and an amazing boyfriend when you two become a couple. He will tease you whenever you are being cute unintentionally or when you mess up doing something. It’s only because he loves your reactions to his commentary. He will also teach you how to protect yourself, preferably with a dagger. If you master using one, he’ll have you use a sword, but even then he’ll be a bit concerned it’s too much for you. On the battlefield, if he’s not showing off and winking at you after every kill, he’s quick to protect you from any harm. Let’s admit it. Taigen can be a pain in the ass. But he’s a great boyfriend.

Ringo

“You really think I can be a great samurai?! Then I’m going to train hard for both of us- I’ll be the greatest samurai for me and you!”

Ringo is a sweetheart. He didn’t expect to go on this journey to end up with a girlfriend, so when he scored one with you, you can imagine his surprise. He didn’t think much at first admittedly, but the more you kissed his cheek, nuzzled into his body on cold nights and threw him words of endearment, the more it settled. And boy did he adore having the title of being your amazing boyfriend!

With someone now to take care of, Ringo pushes himself to be an amazing samurai. He’s more persistent with his master to teach him how to use a sword and possess honor. He’ll even go as far as to ask Taigen to assist him if he can! Whenever he learns something new, he’s excitedly telling you all about it. If he finds anything interesting, he’s grabbing you gently to share it with you. If you’re looking for a ball of sunshine who’s both your friend and partner, look no further than Ringo.

Ito Akemi

“My darling. We will make our own path, away from this prejudice, these men- Everything that’s ever hurt us. That’s ever hurt you… You will never be hurt again. I swear it.”

Akemi knows all too well how it feels to be used and thrown away for your body if not your status. So when she met you at the brothel, she immediately clicked with you. She found your personality to be contagious along with your laughter. She spent every moment staring into your eyes filled with life, gently caressing your smooth skin just to make sure you were still there with her in this hell. You were the most beautiful flower she’s ever seen. You were a flower she couldn’t afford to be tainted.

She didn’t know why she fell for a woman or if it was a curse, but she loved you. She loved you enough to run away and spend as much life as she could with you until she was found by her father. But even then, nothing could hold her down. She was a princess who laid eyes on a commoner she wanted. That she needed. And no one would get in her way of having them. Of having you. She would destroy everything and bathe Japan in flames if it meant she could keep you in her warm embrace. She’d turn everyone into her enemy if you could be her lover. She’d be the villain if you were her savior… And that’s exactly what she was going to do.

If you got any requests for Blue Eye Samurai, send them my way!

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