#but then he just tosses them aside later???

[ourautumn86]

Filthy Rich

Spencer Reid x Fem! reader PT.2

☆ pt1!! pt3!

✧ Synopsis;; Spencer Reid was filthy rich, for he was royalty. Handsome, charming and a gentleman, a dream dressed in pure silk for any kind of woman. But not you.

✧ y/n is a mere slave of a nobel family who just turned 22. On the night of the prince’s royal ball she is dragged against her will to this dance just to be used as a coat rack for the purses and coats of the family ladies, who, of course, treat her like absolute sh’t, to the point where they could agreed to hand her over for a generous amount of gold

“Just name your price, sweetheart.”

“Screw you, my prince.”

Just how lucky you were for had caught the

prince’ s attention!

< enemies to lovers 3

17th century royalty! inspired by bridgerton!

CW;; this series might include 18+ content (details will be given at the start of each new part uploaded) MINORS DNI AND SKIP!!!

WARNINGS PART TWO: cursing, blood, violence and a nude scene(?)

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

WORD COUNT;; +2,5k

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

‘Because from now on you belong in this castle.’

You stepped back at his words, his smile never dropping as you amused him with your fighting against the maids that had returned in a clap of his hands. “You shall let them help you with your clothes and washing, I promise you you’ll feel better once you’ve found yourself clean.” he tried to convince you, his hazel puppy eyes glistening under the lights and his voice soft as a caress.

“I can take my clothes off myself.” you spit, your hands making your way to the back of your dress to unbuckle the single button that was left, among those who had fallen off through the years, and undo the bow that molded it’s skirt to your waist, letting your clothes slip to the floor and around your feet, leaving you completely naked to their sight since no petticoat had been given to you by your old family.

The maids gasped, as you had dared to undress yourself in front of the prince, whose eyes never left yours, not really budging at your actions for he was a ‘gentleman’. His smile only grew up more, which you’d started finding pretty goddamn annoying.

“Then, I shall excuse myself… Ladies.” he bowed to the maids, who did the same and said their goodbyes.

“Oh, bless my soul!” Gideon exclaimed as his eyes accidentally took a glance of your naked body once the door had opened, quickly adverting them to his right.

You gave them your back as he closed the door with a mocking smile towards his right hand, your feet, and later on your whole body, being surrounded in clear warm water for what you thought it was the first time in your life.

You sighed in relief and sank deeper into the bathtub, letting your eyes close once a pair of hands started washing your long hair, getting lost in the feeling of it all, in its warmth.

“I won’t put that on.” you shook your head at the dress that was currently being showed to you. Starting from the fact that it’s skirt was way too big for you to freely and comfortably move around, the puff on its sleeves looked ridiculous and seemed really troublesome and the corset which strings stood in the back really threatened your ability to breath. It was a simple and definite no for you. And the color! That shade of yellow won’t flatter you, that’s for sure.

“It seems that the dresses that Lord Gideon sent are no good…” one of the maids sighed, tossing the last one of them aside.

“What a pity…” you falsely pouted, adjusting yourself in the padded chair you had been forced to sit on so the women could take care of your hair.

“Well, there’s still the one that the prince sent! Let’s give it a try.” a brunette one smiled, to which you huffed, you hair being combed by another maid that simply giggled, really entertained by your reactions. “Where was it…, ah, yes!” she seemed to find it, her gentle fingers taking a grip on the strip sleeves of the dress to reveal it to the rest, who let out a delighted gasp.

“Crumbs*! It’s beautiful!” the maid that combed your hair exclaimed, her eyes shining as brightly as the rest of the ladies’.

It was a really simple dress, though it looked more like a nightgown. It was made out of the most beautiful lace you’ve ever seen. It was light blue, and large, enough to cover your thighs, ending below your knees. It had different layers of silk and lace of all types with little ruffles and decorations. The chest was made out of two triangles of silk with lace surrounding them in a soft-looking way that made you…, not hate it. In fact, it was really beautiful.

“Would you like to try it on, miss?” they all inquired, hoping for a positive answer since they seemed to have fallen in love with the dress.

“Well, it’s the most… pleasant to the eyes,” you muttered, trying to not show your true feelings about that piece of clothing, winning excited smiles from the ladies, who helped you to stand and took off your body the towel that embraced you to help you get on the dress.

You felt free in it. It moved with you and it let you breath, and it was so soft. You jumped and twirled, testing the waters. Nothing seemed to get exposed, what made you really happy. Your incredibly long hair caressed your almost bare back, falling to your waist. Your fingers went through it in awe, no knots being found. You smelled like pure lilies and you felt so clean and soft that you almost felt the urge to cry once you’ve taken a glimpse at your reflection in a mirror the maids lent you. You touched your clean face in disbelief, your cheek was bruised and stung when touched, the same as your lips, but your wounds had been cleaned and your skin looked so pure you felt unrecognizable, always being greeted by your reflection full of dirt, cuts and bruises in the pond’s water you used to visit when the mistress’ clothes needed washing.

“You look truly wonderful, miss.” one of the maids said, the rest nodding and agreeing with her, and just when you were about to thank them for their help with a smile, two knocks at the door caught yours and their attention, the prince stepping in after a short minute just in case you were still getting dressed.

“I apologize for my intrusion, ladies. Is everything alright, here?” he asked as he stepped in, along with Gideon, his eyes quickly finding your back and later on when you had turned to face him, your eyes. He simply stood there, silently staring at you, his eyes capturing every single detail in your body and sinking deep in the way you looked…, with the dress he had chosen himself. “You chose it…” he smiled, his eyes finding yours once again, his soft voice reaching you.

“Well of course, it is the most comfortable amongst them all.” you said, looking down at the dress, catching him staring as you did.

He cleared his throat before bringing his hands from his back to the front, letting you see a couple of, really low heels, almost flat silk shoes. “I brought these, though I couldn’t find anything more comfortable, I’m afraid.” he awkwardly smiled, stepping closer and kneeling in front of you, what caused you and the maids to step back in astonishment and Giddon to whisper-yell a ‘Your highness!’. “May I?” he inquired, one of his palms facing upward as he signaled to your feet. You slowly and unsurely nodded, surprised by his actions, but allowing him help you put on the shoes.

You could guess what everyone was thinking at the moment;

Why in the world was the prince of the realm, no one else than Spencer Reid, kneeling and helping a slave like you put on some shoes?

You slightly bent down to take a better glimpse at them. They were white with a little piece of lace surrounding its collar. They were beautifully simple, and they looked really comfortable. When you put your feet back down on the floor you could agree on your judgement by their appearance. Compared to your wooden ones, this shoes felt like walking on clouds. When your sight drifted from them, your eyes met the prince’s once he had gotten off the marble floor once again.

“Well?” his eyebrows rose in anticipation, wanting to know your opinion on them. Everyone seemed to.

“They are not too bad.” you shrugged, your pride making him smile and let out a soft and short laughter. The tension inside the room seemed to dissipate with that sound.

“I’m glad to hear that.” he nodded, making his way back to the door. “Then? Are you ready to go and eat supper?” he offered you, opening the door whilst his eyes looked into yours.

You glared at him for a couple of seconds, still not truly trusting nor liking him, but still decided to take your first step. And after the first one came a second, and later on; a third.

His eyes never left your body as you exited first, waving your hand to the maids as a quick goodbye, which they returned. He bowed at them before closing the door. You awaited next to Gideon in the corridor, which was carpeted with crimson velvet carpets and glistened under the candles of the chandeliers above your heads.

“Shall I fetch the cooks and maids to set up the table, your highness?” the brunette spoke, his hands intertwined behind his back, which stood straight, awaiting for an answer.

“You shall not.” he shook his head. “I wouldn’t like them to work so much this late at night.” the singing of the cuckoo clock hitting midnight catching your attention as your eyes met with the wooden cuckoo that jumped in and out of its home. You wandered through the corridor, your fingers detailing the marble and wood of the oak chest you found on your left, plagued with porcelain decorations and flowers. There were multiple of them through the interminable corridor, perhaps for embellishment. “Though I would appreciate it if you could fetch something for her. I could wager all the gold I have in my hands that she hasn’t eaten for days.” he seemed concerned, his smile fading for a couple of seconds before appearing once again when he saw you twirling around a porcelain doll sculpture of a ballerina.

Not even his friend could understand his actions nor read whatever wondered inside his mind. But he thought he could just wait for whatever the future would offer.

“Sure, your highness. I’ll make sure to send it to her room in no time.” he nodded, after a ‘thank you’ from his friend and prince heading the other way.

You were about to place down another sculpture that you had picked up when his voice startled you.

“It’s Greek.” you felt your heart plummet to your stomach when it slipped from your hands, his being quick enough to catch it in the air. “Almost a was.” he mocked you with a smile, putting it back down on the chest amongst the others.

“Didn’t know the prince would be into collecting porcelain.” you winded him up.

“That would be my mother, the queen.” he chuckled. “Along with the king she has parted to the east to meet Rembrandt and discuss about his new works of art.” he explained, making you now understand his announcement at his ball, asking forgiveness for the monarchs’ absence. “Though I must admit, I take pleasure in pretty things.” his eyes met yours and for a moment you felt as if you were frozen in place, the only warmth you felt being the touch of his fingers gracing yours on top of the oak chest, after his hand had fallen near yours. Your eyes met his hand and later on his eyes again, pulling away from his warmth after a couple of seconds.

“And what does beauty mean to you, your highness?” you inquired him, giving him your back and taking a few steps away from him. “Perhaps gold? Diamonds? Maybe castles?” your hair softly fell on your shoulder as your turned back to face him once again, your dress beautifully dancing along with you.

He just silently stared at you, his hands once again on his back as he took a couple of steps closer to you, a smile tugging on his lips. “I guess I still have yet to find out.” his brown eyes found yours once he stood by your side, the amber of the candles shining on them. There was something in them that you could not read. “Then, shall we?” his eyes left yours just to show you the way in which you supposed you should head to to meet ‘your room’. You seemed unsure for a couple of seconds, to which he decided to taunt you a little bit more. “After you, sweetheart.” he moved aside, giving you a little bit of space.

“Don’t you dare call me that again.” he laughed at your rudeness.

You gave him a side look before taking a step forwards, and then another, and another, the moonlight of the windows hitting your skin, perfectly matching with the color of your dress.

He took a deep breath before following you.

What beauty was…, huh?

“I hope you find the room to your liking. If you are in need of more pillows or sheets just ask for them, alright? You can ask one of the maids to light up the chimney for you if the night gets too cold too.” he said while opening the door and letting you step inside. It was spacious and beautifully decorated. As you stepped in, the very first thing you could see was a huge window that met the gardens of the castle, to your left a chimney with red velvet sofas and a central tea table with books on top of it, you could find more of them on the willow bookcases on both sides of the chimney. And to your right you could find a queen size bed with puffy white sheets, a white dosel and an incredible amount of pillows of all kinds, along with oak nightstands with candles and a big white closet. When you looked upwards your eyes met with the shiniest of chandeliers.

Once you’ve turned around to meet his eyes once again, these caught a glimpse on a food trolley.

“The maids discussed that since you’ve probably not eaten in days it would be better for you to eat something soft so it wouldn’t upset your stomach.” he said, while taking off the top of the plate cover, the smell of chicken stew along with baked potatoes and steamed vegetables making your mouth water. But that was not really what caught your attention. “I apologize if you find it too-”

And before he could even finish his sentence or take a hold onto your actions, his back was slammed against the half-open door from which you’d entered the room, closing it in a very harsh slam exactly when Gideon seemed to be back to check on the prince.

“My prince?!? My prince!!” he desperately knocked on the door, trying to open it but finding it imposible due to the weight of both your bodies on the other side. “Guards!” and as he called for the guards that rounded the corridors…

“Give me a single reason for which I shouldn’t kill you right this moment, my prince.” your breaths intertwined as you stood completely pressed against his body, a knife that you’ve snatched from the trolley threatening to cut his throat as you pressed it against the skin of his pale neck.

He seemed astonished at first, his hazel eyes staring into yours as your heavy breath caressed his lips, which parted as he spoke.

“You wouldn’t dare.” he pressed against the knife to get even closer to you, its edge sinking into his skin and the vermillion of his blood making its way to his collarbones like a river flowing down the hills.

“And what makes you think that?” he smirked at your inquisition, his fingers brushing delicately your arm, its pads descending. From your shoulder to your elbow and later on to your free hand, which stood slightly hidden behind your dress. You gritted your teeth as he slowly and carefully rose it up ‘till both of you could clearly see it. You were trembling, so much it was actually impressive that you could hide it so well.

“Your body speaks to me, sweetheart.” he answered, caressing your palm with his thumb as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss on its back.

And before any of you knew, more blood spilled as you rose the knife.

To be continued…

*Crumbs;; used for expressing surprise.

[stardust-falling]

Fleeting Second Chances

requested by @gaywarcriminals on ko-fi

Fandom: SVSSS Pairing: Yue Qingyuan & Shen Jiu Summary: Shen Qingqiu suffers a qi deviation and reverts to his younger self. Yue Qingyuan, naturally, must be the one to take care of him until he recovers. Words: 1.6k

The Qing Jing Peak Lord had suffered a serious qi deviation, and would be spending some time away from his peak while recovering.

The news spread throughout Cang Qiong Mountain like wildfire— this sort of gossip always did, especially when it revolved around Shen Qingqiu. It wasn’t the first time he’d pushed himself too far and slipped up, and it probably wouldn’t be the last either, but these incidents were rarely substantial enough to actually take him away from Qing Jing Peak.

His disciples were relieved, though they would never actually admit that to anyone. Even if it was only temporary, they now had some reprieve from their shizun’s thorny tongue and icy glares— and also from his unnecessarily harsh discipline.

His peers secretly felt sorry for Mu Qingfang and his disciples, sparing them sympathetic glances whenever their paths crossed. Any time Shen Qingqiu experienced a setback, he was much, much less pleasant to be around. He was especially sensitive about his cultivation— what kind of hell must Qian Cao Peak have become with him staying as a patient like this?

Little did they know, however, that Shen Qingqiu wasn’t on Qian Cao Peak at all.

……

Yue Qingyuan was a very busy man.

As the leader of the cultivation world’s foremost righteous sect, there was no end to the matters that required his attention. From teaching his own disciples to coordinating the next Immortal Alliance Conference, he rarely had a moment to be idle.

For the past several days, however, he had taken leave and requested not to be disturbed for anything short of a genuine emergency.

Each morning, just after the sun had risen, he went down to Yin Huai Village with a basket hanging from his arm. A short while later, he would return with that basket filled to the brim with all manner of sweet treats and goodies— and then, he would disappear inside his house until the time came for his next daily excursion.

This odd change of behavior brought about all sorts of theories. Regardless, anyone who saw with the sect leader these days could agree on one thing— he seemed, for some reason, far happier now than they’d ever seen him before.

……

It was late spring— a dreary, rainy day.

Yue Qingyuan returned home with his basket as usual, carefully stepping inside. He called out “I’m back!” and set the basket down on the table. Then, he went into the side room, where a small bed had been set up, filled with a generous mountain of soft pillows and blankets.

In the center of that bed was a small, miserable lump.

Yue Qingyuan paused next to the bed for a moment, then carefully reached out to place his hand on top of the lump.

There was a flurry of movement beneath the blankets, which were hurriedly tossed aside by a little ball of rage and startled vitriol— and before he could pull away, Yue Qingyuan felt a sharp pain in his hand.

“Ah— Xiao-Jiu, it’s just me!”

Latched on tightly to his hand with teeth that were really far sharper than they ought to be was a small child, with a thin face and messy black hair, who was looking up at Yue Qingyuan with a frightened glare in his wide eyes.

“Qi-ge’s sorry for startling you,” Yue Qingyuan added, with a wince and an apologetic smile.

A little more than a week ago now, he’d stopped by Qing Jing Peak to deliver a message. It was a simple task he could have easily left to one of his disciples, but how could he pass up an opportunity to go check in on Xiao-Jiu? When he arrived at the bamboo house, though, instead of being greeted by the sight of Shen Qingqiu’s unhappy glare, he instead saw a quiet house, with a little mound of turquoise and white clothes in a pile on the ground, as though the person inside of them had vanished into thin air.

Seeing Shen Qingqiu’s clothes like this, Yue Qingyuan had of course been a little worried and gone to pick them up— and as soon as he’d lifted a corner of the silk robe, the same thing had happened as just now.

He recognized the person biting him instantly, and had rushed the tiny Shen Qingqiu over to Qian Cao Peak to find Mu Qingfang. While Yue Qingyuan wrapped up his now-bleeding hand in a strip of bandage, Mu Qingfang had struggled to diagnose this particularly difficult patient, who refused to cooperate even a little and seemed to think that the physician was out to get him. Eventually, a conclusion was reached— Shen Qingqiu had suffered a qi deviation, which caused him to revert to his younger self. His memories past that point also seemed to be missing, along with his cultivation— but other than that, his condition wasn’t too bad. He would probably return to normal on his own with time.

Yue Qingyuan was relieved that it wasn’t too serious, and that he wasn’t in any danger.

But that didn’t mean there weren’t some… other problems to deal with.

Xiao-Jiu— because it didn’t feel right to call this tiny version of him “Shen Qingqiu”— was now the exact same as he had been all those years ago when he’d first been purchased by the trafficking ring. From his point of view, he’d only met Yue Qi recently. They had already gotten fairly close, but there was no way he would believe that the tall, regally-clothed sect leader was, in fact, his Qi-ge all grown up.

When Yue Qingyuan had tried to explain the situation, he had just been met with a suspicious glare. He wondered whether he should have brought it up at all.

Yue Qingyuan knew that Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t want the details of his past to become widely known, so as soon as he was allowed to, he swept his tiny shidi off and tucked him away inside Qiong Ding Peak’s Sky House. He would take care of Xiao-Jiu himself until he had gone back to normal and gotten his memories back. Even though Shen Qingqiu would probably hate him even more for this later… well, it would still be better than the alternative.

At least this way, anything that happened would stay just between the two of them. Like so many things were.

And now, Yue Qi could spoil Xiao-Jiu to his heart’s content.

Once several days had passed, he realized it would be a lot more difficult than he hoped. Xiao-Jiu was hardly the sort to be won over by a few sweets and some blankets, and Yue Qingyuan kept forgetting himself and going in to hug him, or pat his head, or pinch his cheeks… Xiao-Jiu was really just too cute when he was small, it was simply unbearable.

Almost every time he reached out, his hand was bitten. The few times he avoided being bitten, he was punched or kicked. Yue Qingyuan didn’t really mind these reactions— but there were a few heartbreaking times when Xiao-Jiu just flinched away from him in fear. Once, early on, he’d slipped away from Yue Qingyuan’s grasp and curled up underneath the bed. He stayed under there for hours, peering out with big, suspicious eyes, refusing to come out despite all of Yue Qingyuan’s coaxing.

In the end, he’d left a warm steamed bun just past the edge of the bed and gone out the room. It took awhile, but Xiao-Jiu eventually crawled back out and took the peace offering, though he remained wary for the rest of the day.

Luckily, he’d warmed up to Yue Qingyuan by now.

That didn’t mean the biting had stopped.

Of course… he’d bitten Yue Qi a lot back when they were kids too. He probably just liked it.

“Xiao-Jiu… I brought you some things,” Yue Qingyuan said, gingerly trying to remove his hand from between Xiao-Jiu’s teeth. “Please let go now, you can bite down on the sweets instead of me.”

Xiao-Jiu just glared at him, refusing to offer the slightest bit of mercy.

Yue Qingyuan sighed— what was it this time? Xiao-Jiu had been getting more temperamental lately. He wasn’t afraid anymore, so it had to be something else.

Oh…

Was it that…?

“Ah. Qi-ge is sorry for leaving you.”

Once those words had left his lips, Xiao-Jiu gave him one final glare before finally letting go.

So it really was that after all.

A soft chuckle escaped Yue Qingyuan’s lips as he dabbed at the blood now welling up on his hand. It wasn’t a new injury, but rather the same one from before, re-opened. Somehow, Xiao-Jiu always managed to bite the exact same place, and his bites had only gotten harder and more painful as he recovered and grew stronger.

Xiao-Jiu reached out with one of his tiny, tiny hands and grabbed hold of Yue Qingyuan’s sleeve, tugging on it several times. Yue Qingyuan responded by gently patting him on the head, careful not to move too quickly and startle him.

“I’ll tell you next time I go out, alright?” he suggested, his voice soft.

Xiao-Jiu shook his head and glared again.

“Then… I’ll… stay here?”

A nod.

Then, Xiao-Jiu burrowed himself into Yue Qingyuan’s chest, clinging tightly to the fabric of his robes as he pressed his face into them.

A grin burst across Yue Qingyuan’s face. Ah— his Xiao-Jiu was simply the cutest thing ever! He carefully put his arms around Xiao-Jiu’s tiny shoulders, gently hugging him, rocking back and forth as he reached up to stroke his hair.

“Alright… alright. Qi-ge won’t go away anymore. Qi-ge will stay here with you.”

He closed his eyes, breathing a long, heavy sigh.

Eventually, Xiao-Jiu would grow up again and remember everything. But for now…

For now, it wouldn’t hurt to give him a little bit of the care, security, and happiness that he’d never been able to have before.

[lancerious]

thank you for being #1 lancer fan the world needs more lancer fans

Ho ho ho, of course!! Lancer is CRIMINALLY underrated I tell you, kid deserves WAY more attention than he currently gets

Glad to see another Lancer fan pop in <3!

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Miguel w/an Innocent S/O

Warnings: Protective Miguel, Slight Yandere Miguel (if you squint), Implications of Smut, Fluff, More Fluff, Spooning, Mentions/Implications of injuries, Insecurity, No Pronouns used for Reader Except 'You'.

Him being fiercely protective of you 24/7.

If someone even so much as looks at you wrong, he stares them down until they either break down and start apologising, or their heart gives out.

You’re the only person he shows any affection to. You’re also the only person allowed to touch him. Period.

He’s so touch starved; please hold him and tell him he’s your big guy :-(

Goes FERAL when you rake your fingers through his hair; his eyes roll into his skull and he can’t help but moan a little, even if the context isn’t sexual.

Don’t bring it up or he’ll punish you for it later 👀.

He finds your innocence both endearing and worrying.

On one hand, you believe in the good of everyone, which, considering how insecure Miguel can be, is what initially drew him to you; your ability to empathise and sympathise with others, to not judge them.

However, he knows people would take advantage of your kind and giving nature.

One time, he found out that one of the Spiders – a Victorian England era ‘gentleman superhero’ – had tossed you a used coffee cup and told you to dispose of it on his behalf. When you tried to say something, to tell him you were busy and had better things to do, he just dismissed you.

Of course, Miguel had seen this. He has eyes on you every second of the day.

You never saw that Spiderman again. Nor did anyone else. All that seemed to remain of him was his suit thrown haphazardly into the storage room, where a great big tear edged with blood was ripped into the chestpiece, the hero’s signature top hat abandoned and crumpled beneath it.

He also broke another Spider-Person’s arm when they tried to steal one of the fairy cakes you’d lovingly baked for him; poured your heart and soul into.

Miguel also growls at people he thinks are looking at you strangely. Full-on bares his fangs like a rabid dog and watches them cower.

He purposely grows his fangs out and lets you play with them.

He’s careful to make sure you don’t get hurt, though, guiding your hands away from the pointed tips.

His guilty pleasure is when you kiss his fangs and tell him he’s “The coolest, most handsome man in the world!”

“Just the world?” He says, smiling, raising an eyebrow. His heart melts in his chest as your smile widens, eclipsing your eyes into crescents.

“In ALL the worlds!” You say, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him, laughing. He brings his arms, thick and muscular, around your waist and pulls you into him, pressing ticklish kisses into your neck, revelling in your laughter.

Intimacy-wise, Miguel is horrified at the prospect of hurting you.

He’s ever so careful, as if handling glass, holding back his strength.

It’s worth it, though. The strain.

Especially when he hears you mewl and try to hide your face in his chest.

“Oh no, Sweetheart,” he says, tangling a hand in your hair and pulling your head back. His pointed fangs flint as he gives a smile. “I want to watch you like this.”

Loves your gentle kisses – they give him life.

Nothing can get him down when you’re around; especially when you’re sitting in his lap.

Though, issues have arisen as a result of your oblivion to…compromising positions.

More often than not, Miguel’s had to bite his lip and tongue when you shift in his lap, catching him, making his heart start and his breath shutter, electric anticipation jolting through him.

He takes you aside in the bathroom to deal with the issue you’ve unknowingly caused, but you don’t complain. Not that you can with your mouth full.

He looks at you with eyes which have seen the deaths of countless individuals, yet when he finds yours, he sees love and light spanning infinite universes within them. And they give him hope that there is more to life than loss and grief; more to him than his failures.

He revels in the feeling of you hiding behind him whenever you’re scared.

Sometimes he takes you to areas of the facility where he knows you’ll be easily frightened – for example, where captive villains are held – so he can feel your hands tightening around his arm or gripping the back of his suit. It makes him feel useful, like he can take on the world.

And he gets off on being the only person who can truly protect you. But he’d never tell you that, of course.

Loves demonstrating his strength around you. He can pick you up single-handedly and carry you anywhere without so much as thinking of breaking a sweat.

He prefers to be the big spoon, curling around you like a shield and protecting you from the outside world, his warm, broad chest to your back.

Tells you how much he loves you through hushed post-intimacy whispers and soft touches. Shows it through acts of service and the insurmountable adoration that fills his eyes whenever you’re around.

He can’t imagine being with anybody else. He can’t even remember the last time he felt anything save for contempt before you showed up.

And he’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. No cost is too great for the love of his life <3.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[whateveriwant]

The 141 in a reverse harem

18+ content, GN!Reader, Reader is the ruler of an ancient kingdom

Soap

The moment you step into their communal quarters, Soap is always the first one to greet you, almost Iike he was sitting right beside the door

But nooooo, don't be silly. Of course he's not been impatiently waiting since your last visit. Though, you were 28 and ¾ minutes later than normal, not that he's been counting or anything

As you walk around their dwelling deciding on who to take back to your chambers for the night, he's following closely behind like a little horny whiny puppy

More than once, he's accidentally stepped on your robes because of just how close he likes to trail after you

Oh, but he's so terribly sorry! Here, let him make it up to you! Please, please let him make it up to you!

Because he tries to hog the limited time you spend with the men, it's earned him more than a few elbows to the ribs from his biggest “rival” in the group: Gaz. And speaking of which…

Gaz

Always trailing a little less desperately closely behind is the newest member of the harem: Gaz

Though he may be the youngest of the four, that doesn't mean he's any less experienced in these types of matters (and the young ones are always the most eager to please, aren't they)

Have you had a good day, darling? He knows you're very busy running a kingdom and all, so he for one is grateful you've taken time out of your hectic schedule to visit them

Oh, but your shoulders look so tense, darling! He can rub them for you if you'd like

And your poor feet! Those sandals of yours look awfully uncomfortable. Why doesn't he head back with you so he can show your full body the love it deserves

While he and Soap can't help but bicker when it comes to vying for your attention, on the rare occasion, the two have been able to put aside their differences and work together, if you know what I mean

Price

Unlike the two younger men, Price feels no need to fight for your time

No, he knows you'll eventually make your way over to him, swaying your hips in that way that makes him salivate like a dog

As the oldest and the longest resident of the group, he's become somewhat of a right hand of yours; almost like a concubine turned consultant, if you will

While of course he loves nothing more than to get down to the nitty gritty with you, these talks of yours are truly the highlight of his day even when they're entirely polite in nature

Why yes, he has done something different with his beard, thank you for noticing. He got some new oils from the market yesterday. Do you like it? Isn't it soft? Just wait until you feel it between your thighs

No matter who you're taking to your bed for the evening, Price always escorts you to the door of their quarters, leaving you with a kiss to the hand goodbye. Until next time, starlight

Ghost

Last but certainly not least is the man you have the most… interesting dynamic with, to put it one way

It's funny, really. He likes to pretend the sweet taste of you doesn't haunt his every waking moment, and you like to pretend that there was anyone else on your mind the second you walked through the door

But oh, he sees that you've arrived yet again... Well, this book of his is super interesting, so he's just going to sit in the corner and read, and absolutely not watch you out of the corner of his eye

What was that? No, he's not holding it in his lap for any reason. And no, his pant legs aren't shorter than normal. Why would you think that?

Oh, but the moment you hold your hand out for him, he has to stop himself from immediately tossing the dumb book aside and hauling you over his shoulder like some sort of rabid beast

Instead, he takes his time standing from his seat, almost indifferent as he takes your hand and lets you lead him back to your chambers

It's all a farce though, of course. Nothing makes his pride swell more than having you scream his name for the whole palace to hear, echoing all the way back to where the three other men are left to sit and mope

[puff0o0]

Up late at night on your phone, turned away from your dear husband. Your fingers scrolling through tumblr with a heavy sigh of exhaustion

You checked the time to see it was AM now, making you frown before your eyes drifted back to your phone

You wanted to sleep, you just weren't tired physically

Your eyelids weighed and yet it was like you had stone bricks to stop them from falling all the way down.

Everything has been so stressful lately.

All of a sudden the weight in the bed shifted and your phone was snatched from your hands and tossed aside further on the bed.

Simon wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him, planting soft kisses on your shoulder to your neck

"Y'should be asleep by now, luv.."

He grumbled, half asleep. You put your hands on the arms wrapped around your waist, smiling at the kisses

"It's hard to sleep"

"That's alright.. I'll be here until you manage to fall asleep, sweetheart"

He turned you around to where you were facing his chest, allowing you to cuddle up closer to him and burrow your head in his neck

You fell asleep 2 hours later, but at least you fell asleep in your husband's warm embrace

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Simon Riley lets out a high-pitched squeal when you shower with him first time because the water is too goddamn hot. (but it’s the best temperature for you).

LOL YES YES YES THIS IS SO TRUE!! Idk why but I also have a hc that he prolly jumped a bit to avoid the hot splash because in his military life he's used to shower in cold ass water, and rarely has time to adjust the temperature since he showered in rush (3 minutes shower). His skin might be a little pink or red after warm (hot) shower. Please just give this man lukewarm bath with rubber duck, shark and starfish, a gentle scalp massage would be a help too and trust me 100% he's addicted to it

yes he deserves a nice bath 😈 ty for the ideas!! this is just some little scenes I think will happen :D!

Simon*Reader, silly couple

btw anon’s talking about this post

Shower with Simon Riley

1.

You finally convince Simon to shower with you the first time (not that he doesn’t want it, he’s just not familiar with these intimate couple things, give that man some time to build his courage).

You throw your clothes aside without any bit of shyness, and step behind the shower curtain, turning on the water and waiting for Simon to come in.

You can’t help but salivate at the man’s figure, and he seems to notice your gaze, his ego must thrive to sky-high in mere seconds.

Until you rinse the water on his chest.

“eee!”

“???” You almost doubt it’s a seagull showering with you when you hear the high-pitched squeak coming from your lover whose voice is always low and gravel.

“...” Oh, and he’s avoiding meeting your eyes now.

“Did you just squeal Simon?”

“No.”

“But I heard—“

“No.”

2.

“You want this bath bomb or this or that?”

“They’re all fucking same.”

“No, this is vanilla, this is lavender, this is rose and this is...”

“Bloody hell... just choose one for me.”

“Alright then.” You toss the vanilla one into the lukewarm water.

10 minutes after Simon falls asleep in the bathtub with the rubber duck in his hand when you softly scratch his scalp.

...

A few days later, you open the drawer outside the bathroom and get drowned by tons of vanilla bath bombs.

“I thought someone said all of them are the same...” You smirk at Simon, while he just stares at you and can’t find a convincing reason to defend himself.

3.

You discover Simon’s skin turns into light pink after showering with you a few times.

“You’re like a strawberry” You two are cuddling on the bed after a soothing shower together. “Your skin always becomes pink after you shower with me.”

“I’m not a fucking strawberry.”

“How about peach?”

“That’s the same.”

“but it’s cute, seeing your cheeks turn red.”

You poke his face cheekily, but he just shoves your blahaj on his face to cover it.

“What, Simon?” You snicker as you scoot closer “Shy for being said cute?”

“...” He doesn’t answer, just covers his face with your plushie more secure.

“How can I kiss you when you cover your face, handsome?”

“...” Simon still maintains silence, but you’re damn sure he’s hesitating.

“You don’t want my kiss?” You fake a disappointed tone, and eventually, he moves the blahaj out of his face.

Your smile deepens when you still spot the pink smearing across his cheeks.

“That’s my man.” You peck his lips “Thanks, cutie”

You really should stop teasing him. You tell yourself when he smashes the blahaj on his face again once he hears you call him cutie.

[roosterforme]

Stateside | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley made a mistake last summer when he left for his deployment without ever asking you out, and then he thought about you a lot when he was gone. He was stateside again for less than a day when the other guys coerced him to help with a fundraiser at the Hard Deck. A friendly wager with the squad might not be the only thing he wins by the end of the night.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, swears

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger Written for Pick Your Poison

Bradley had barely been stateside for twenty four hours when he woke up in his bed at noon to an array of texts arriving all at once. Five months on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with nothing much going for him left him surprisingly exhausted. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his friends, he just needed a full day to himself to readjust. 

He groaned and rolled over after glancing at his phone and seeing the words Hard Deck in a message from Jake. He closed his eyes again after tossing his phone aside, but about ten seconds later, he cracked them open again. If there was one thing he had consistently thought about over the course of those five months, it was you. Your bright smile, your perfect laugh, your navy blue tee shirts that said The Hard Deck across the front.

When he reached for his phone and checked the message from Jake, he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe this could be an excuse to see you again sooner rather than later.

Hangman: Hey, we need you to come to the Hard Deck tonight. It's the annual charity event, and Bob can't make it. We're short a bartender. And don't try to bitch out of this, Phoenix told me you're home.

Bradley covered his face with his hand and thought long and hard about this. The real bartenders would be there to help which meant there was a chance you'd be one of them. If he volunteered for this, then maybe he'd find himself in close quarters with you for a few hours instead of the other Naval officers he'd been stuck with for months on end. Just the idea of accidentally bumping into you while pouring a beer had him texting Jake back.

Yeah, I'll be there.

Even though he was still pretty tired later in the afternoon, Bradley took a shower and then spent some extra time on his hair before dressing in his lucky shirt. That five month deployment was the reason he didn't ask you out during the summer, and now he was nervous to see you again. He had good intel from Penny that you'd been single the last time he saw you in August, but what if you had a boyfriend now? Or worse, what if you didn't even acknowledge him when you saw him?

He groaned as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Hours, possibly even days... that's how much time he'd had you on his mind while he was away. And for what? A crush on a girl who was probably too young for him? A cute bartender at the Navy hangout who definitely got asked out nightly? Shit. He was a lost cause. 

And now he was going to be late if he didn't leave right away. He grabbed his keys, and headed out to his Bronco which he had missed dearly. So if nothing else, he'd get to cruise around later after the event. But on the ride to the bar, all he could imagine was how you'd look in the passenger seat, smiling at him at every stoplight and singing along to the radio. 

"Fuck," he grunted as he parked next to Jake's truck before heading inside. He let his heart fill with hope as he strolled in to find Penny, Jake, Javy and Reuben behind the bar with two bartenders. But neither of them were you.

"Rooster!" Reuben cheered, and soon he was being clapped on the back and high fived by the guys he hadn't seen in months. It was nice, but he couldn't help but think that his smile would have been more genuine if you were here.

Jake smirked. "So glad you left your perch and joined us."

Bradley laughed as he gave Penny a hug. "Come on, man, I literally just got home."

Penny smiled up at him. "Thanks for filling in. It'll be great." Bradley really wanted to ask her about you, but then Penny patted him on the cheek before turning to reach under the bar top. "This will be a breeze for you guys," she said, handing matching shirts to the four of them. "Just a basic bar menu tonight. No super fancy cocktails. Just beer, wine, some pre-made sangria, and a few different kinds of shots."

Bradley started to unbutton his lucky shirt before pulling the new one on in its place. He smoothed his hand along the front of the blue shirt that said THE HARD DECK FIGHTS CANCER, and he noticed the two bartenders glancing at him. They were both cute but decidedly not what he had been hoping for tonight. 

"Hey," he asked them with a nod. They smiled in response, so he decided to just go ahead and ask them about you.

"She quit a few weeks ago," the first one told him. "After she graduated from law school."

"She moved, too," said the second one. "Left San Diego."

Shit. He was too late after all, nodding in response to them as he pressed his lips together in a firm line. He'd never been any good at this kind of thing, which was why he always fell into casual relationships. What should he have done? Asked you out, gone on a handful of dates and then tried to persuade you to wait five months for him? Just for him to get deployed over and over again? That wouldn't have been fair to you.

But he didn't feel like it was fair to him either, because right now he was having a hard time even remembering exactly how pretty you were and the precise tone of your laughter. Probably for the best. At least he only needed to do this event for a few hours before he could leave and go for a long drive. He swallowed down his disappointment and turned toward the guys who were in the middle of conversation. 

"How about a side wager?" Javy asked, tossing a bottle of vodka up into the air and catching it over and over again. "You know, for the charity?"

"What did you have in mind?" Bradley asked as Penny went to peek outside. "Because I doubt Penny will let us strip for charity again after last year. The two of you scuffed up the bar top," Bradley added, gesturing at Jake as well.

They both started laughing like idiots before Jake said, "Nah, let's give Penny a break this year and just tally up our tips at the end of the night. Whoever donates the least amount of tip money to the charity is the loser."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Javy said as he ate the orange slices and cherries that were meant to garnish the drinks. "What's the punishment for losing?"

Reuben smirked and said, "Loser has to report to the tarmac on Monday in his underwear. Instant push ups from Mav."

"Deal," Jake said.

"Absolutely," Javy agreed.

Three pairs of eyes settled on Bradley, and he slowly said, "Okay." If he strolled out of the locker room in just his underwear and boots on his first day back from a long deployment when he was supposed to sit down with the admirals and Maverick and have a debrief, he'd probably earn a greater punishment than just a few push ups. But it was for the charity, so he'd do it.

But he soon learned he'd made a mistake after Penny called out, "Let's get started," and propped the doors open. The first person through the door was Reuben's wife, followed by Javy's fiancee and Jake's girlfriend. And all of her sorority sisters. 

"Shit," Bradley grunted. "Did you make me come here just so I would lose?"

Javy was handing out pint glasses that they could use as tip cups as he smirked, and Bradley was wondering if there was any way he could actually stuff his discreetly with cash from his own wallet.

"You'll be just fine," Jake drawled as the jukebox came blaring to life. But even the music was mocking him as Slow Ride started to play, and Bradley had people in front of him expecting him to make them drinks. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jake's girlfriend open her purse and start stuffing Jake's tip cup full. "I feel like that's considered cheating," Bradley told her, and she rolled her eyes and smirked before tucking five dollars into his cup as well.

"Don't tip Bradshaw, Sweets," Jake complained. "We made him come here as a buffer!"

"I knew it was a setup!" Bradley groaned as he listened to someone ask him for some wine and some beer. That was easy enough. He knew how to do that. Or at least he thought he did, but then one of the bartenders who had volunteered for the night told him he poured too much wine into the glass.

Then a woman asked him for a green tea shot, and he stared at her blankly. He leaned closer to Javy and asked, "What the hell is in a green tea shot?" 

"I don't know," he replied as he poured two pints at the same time. "But you better figure it out, because your tip cup is still practically empty."

"Shit." He was scrambling to flag down the young bartenders again when he froze. He only caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but he knew it was you simply by the way you moved and the color of your hair. And then you sat down in the only empty stool left at the bar and smiled at him, your voice drawing his eyes up to your perfect face. 

"Rooster. You're back."

The little thoughts and fantasies he'd indulged in while deployed had nothing on the real thing, and he knew he was blushing as you smiled and waited for him to respond. But it had been months since he'd been this close to you, and now he was really beating himself up for not trying to make you his sooner. Because if you were his, he could do all the things he wanted to do right now. Like kiss you.

"Rooster," you repeated with hesitation in your eyes, your voice softer, nearly drowned out by the jukebox. 

"They said you quit," he blurted out as he leaned on the bartop, curious as to why you were here tonight. "And that you moved."

Your eyes went a little wider as you nodded, your smile still soft. "I did. You asked about me?"

"Can you make me a green tea shot or not?"

Bradley begrudgingly switched his focus to the woman next to you and sighed. He was about to tell her he didn't even know what that was, or that maybe she should fuck off so he could talk to you, but then you reached out and ran your fingers along the back of his hand. 

Your touch was brief but intentional, and all of the irritation seemed to ease out of his body as his gaze snapped back to yours. "Yeah," you told the other woman as your finger grazed his knuckle one more time. "He can make you a green tea shot."

"I don't even know what's in it," he told you, with a helpless smile, trying to fight the urge to reach for your hand. 

You kind of shrugged as you said, "I do. I'll talk you through it."

Bradley's smile grew which left you giggling as he said, "I'm kind of helpless back here. Nothing like you."

"Well, you can learn from the best," you told him, reaching out to squeeze his wrist before pointing to the many liquor bottles behind him. "Irish whiskey and peach schnapps," you told him, leaning on the bar now, so close that he just couldn't bring himself to turn away from you. 

"Okay," he said, memorizing the exact color of your eyes. "Thanks for doing this."

You bit your lip and smiled up at him, and when Bradley moved just slightly closer, he thought he heard you whimper. Your eyes were full of emotion that reflected his own as you said, "Focus, Rooster. Irish whiskey and peach schnapps."

He nodded once and then finally moved away from you as he scanned the bottles and grabbed the two you told him. "Good," you said, pointing to the mini fridge and saying, "now get the sweet and sour mix. It's in a pink jug. Yeah, you got it. Now you need a half ounce of each."

Bradley listened to you explain how to use the shaker while he gave you another helpless look. "I'm just a simple beer or bourbon drinker," he said as he strained the drink that his customer had been waiting several minutes for into a shot glass.

You laughed and said, "I know you are, and it's kind of endearing that you don't know what you're doing. Now top it off with a splash of Sprite." 

Bradley grabbed the soda gun, pressed the little green button and then looked up at you again. "This is endearing?" he asked, finally sliding the shot to the annoyed woman who unenthusiastically put a dollar in his tip cup and turned away.

"Very," you promised him. "And now I want you to make me a kamikaze shot."

He gave you a bland look, but his heart was pounding. "Are you joking right now?"

Bradley was hyper focused on your lips as you said, "Not at all. You can handle it. It's vodka, triple sec and lime juice. I prefer Finlandia. Impress me, and I'll leave you a nice big tip for the charity."

Then he groaned. He had forgotten about the wager and the other patrons looking for drinks and just all of it. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Thanks, but I'll probably still end up in my underwear at work on Monday morning." 

When he pushed away from the bar again, your eyes dipped down to his jeans before snapping back up. "Underwear?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he reached for the type of vodka you liked best. You told him how much to use, and he dumped it in a shaker. "The guys coerced me into volunteering tonight. I literally just got home from deployment, but here I am... their scapegoat," he said, arms held out at his sides. "They threw out a side bet based on tip money, and next thing I know, all of their wives and girlfriends show up with a bunch of cash."

While he shook your kamikaze shot, he watched you turn first to your right and then to your left, eyeing up the overflowing tip cups in front of Reuben, Javy and Jake. Your lips parted, and you gaped at Bradley, but your eyes looked a little devious now. "You know, all of this makes a lot of sense since the guys made me come tonight."

Bradley carefully poured out your shot and asked, "What do you mean they made you come?" He realized his voice sounded annoyed, but how did they all have your phone number anyway? He'd been standing here thinking about asking you for it, but they were apparently already texting you. 

You accepted the shot and took a small sip to taste it. "They kept messaging me earlier today, saying I absolutely needed to be here tonight. They said it was important I made it to the charity event." Then you tipped your head back, and Bradley was treated to the soft looking expanse of your neck as you swallowed down the rest of the shot he made. When you were done, you set the glass down and licked your lips as you dug some money out of your pocket. "That was delicious."

While you loaded his cup with all the cash in your pocket, Bradley tried to ask you where you lived now. If the guys were bugging you earlier today, you couldn't be that far. But before he could get a word out, you pushed yourself up so you were kneeling on the bar right in front of him, and he looked up at you as you grinned down at him. 

"Don't worry, Rooster," you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. "I got you." Then Bradley was reaching for your hips. He didn't fucking care if the place was packed, he was ready to haul you off to the back hallway and ask you if he could kiss your pretty lips. You beamed at him as his hands met your body, but you just cupped your fingers around your mouth and shouted over the music, "Come get your drinks from Rooster! He knows how to make everything! But kamikazes are his specialty! And he's hot!"

His eyes went wide as you slipped out of his grasp and back onto your stool while an influx of mostly women queued up in front of him. "What did you do?" he asked, trying to mentally process an order for a cosmopolitan while stumbling over you calling him hot.

"I'm helping you not embarrass yourself at work. Keep the vodka out. Grab the Cointreau and a martini glass. We're about to show the guys what's up."

Bradley struggled through drink after drink as quickly as he could, but you never gave up on him. Occasionally you'd slide things out of his way or point out where he could find something he needed, and at some point you grabbed a second pint glass for his overflowing tip money. And all the while, he stole as many glances at you as he could while he worked. 

When Penny eventually walked behind him, patted him on the shoulder and said there was less than an hour left of the event, she also shared a smile with you. But there was no hope. The other guys were already working on their third tip cups each. "I don't think I can make up the deficit," he groaned, pulling up the hem of his shirt and wiping his brow with it. 

"Oh, that's a great idea," you mused, leaning across the bar and pulling his shirt up higher. "Take it off."

He stared at you as you tugged on the fabric. "Take it off?"

You nodded, the moevent exaggerated as you said, "Absolutely. Take your shirt off." As he looked around awkwardly before pulling his shirt over his head, you cupped your hands around your mouth once again and said, "He has six pack abs!"

Now the guys were glaring at him. "So do I!" Reuben complained.

"Don't you dare take your shirt off!" his wife told him, pointing at him in warning. 

Bradley knew his cheeks were flushed, and all he really wanted to do was talk to you and hopefully kiss you. And he really wanted to do all of that with his shirt on, because he felt a bit like a stripper now as you reached for a third tip cup. The cash was filling it up quickly, and he smirked as he thought about Reuben, Jake or Javy in their underwear instead of him. And it was all for a charity after all. 

"Make him use the shaker!" you urged a woman who looked like she was in her seventies and holding a crisp fifty dollar bill. "Make him flex."

Bradley groaned your name which sent you into a fit of laughter, your second empty shot glass still in front of you. "This isn't right," he complained half heartedly as he shook the older woman's Mai Tai with flexed abs and biceps. 

"It is so right," you told him, and he appreciated that you were scoping out the other guys' tip cups instead of looking at him right now. "Keep going. It's going to be so close." And then that fifty ended up in Bradley's cup when he handed over the cocktail, and you said, "Or maybe not!"

"Last call for the fundraiser!" Penny shouted over the crowd, and Bradley almost sighed in relief when the last few people ordered beers and a glass of wine. And then it was all over, and he had a huge amount of cash in front of him along with you. But he didn't care about the tips as much as he did getting to finally talk to you. The fundraiser was technically over, and you were looking at him the same way he was looking at you.

When he took a breath to suggest you and he go for a walk, he felt a hand on his bare back. It was one of the young bartenders who was helping out, and she said, "I can count up your tips for you," with a smile.

"Nope," you said, reaching for his cups yourself and shooting her a glare. "I'll do his. You go help Coyote." You didn't move again until her hand slipped off of his back and she walked away, and then you looked at Bradley and asked, "What are you going to do for me if you win?"

He watched as you quickly sorted the bills into efficient piles as he pulled his shirt back on and leaned against the bar. It had quieted down significantly, and now Penny was taking a few drink orders while everyone else seemed to move to the tables. He felt like he had a moment of privacy with you as he said, "I guess that depends. Apparently you moved away, Sweetheart."

"I did," you confirmed with a smirk as you counted up his twenties. 

"But you came back tonight."

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you moved to the pile of tens. "I'm not too far away. I took a full time job and moved to Del Mar. The guys told me I needed to be here tonight for a special surprise. They said something I had been missing was returning. So I came down."

Bradley's fingers flexed on the edge of the bartop. "They did?"

You looked a little vulnerable as you stacked the bills in one pile and said, "Eight hundred and seventy one dollars." 

He nodded once and pushed the money aside without really looking at it. "You'd been missing something, Sweetheart?" he pressed gently, heart pounding in his chest. 

You bit your lip as your eyes drifted closed when he rubbed his thumb across your cheek. "I guess I must have asked the guys one time too many if they knew when you'd be back from your deployment."

"Oh," he rasped as you looked at him again. "You missed me?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I was going to ask you out, but then you were just gone. And they told me you were deployed, and I thought I really missed my chance. And I didn't even know if you were single or not, so I-"

Bradley had heard enough, so he kissed you. Just a soft press of his lips to yours, but you practically crawled onto the bar to get closer to him. And it was better than he spent the last five months imagining it might be. He could taste the vodka and lime on your tongue as it met his. Your fingers gently combed through his hair again, and he moaned, "I missed you too, Sweetheart."

Your laughter was soft and sweet as your nose brushed against his, and then he jerked back a few inches as Reuben shouted. "Yo, Rooster! There's time for that later, man! How much tip money did you make?"

"Eight hundred and seventy one," you replied as your fingers trailed down his scarred cheek to rub his mustache before you pecked him on the lips. The three guys groaned in unison, and Bradley watched your face light up in a beautiful smile. 

"This is not why we told you that you had to come tonight!" Jake whined, pointing at you and pouting. "You were supposed to distract him, not help him win! He was just supposed to turn into a bumbling mess and admit he has feelings for you!"

You turned away from Jake, and you asked Bradley, "So, do you have feelings for me?"

He huffed out a laugh before he hopped up to sit on the bar, swung his long legs over to the other side and hopped down again. You jumped from your stool and into his arms when he said, "I thought about you the whole time I was away, Sweetheart. I wanted to ask you out in the summer, but I didn't think it was right to hope you'd wait almost half a year for me to be stateside. For us to be together again."

"Bradley," you moaned. His hands found your hips just like earlier, and this time he pulled you snug against him while your fingers teased through his hair. "If a guy is worth waiting for, then I'd wait forever."

He kissed you again, tasting and nipping the lips that he'd dreamed about. Inhaling all of your sweetness that his mind didn't do justice to when he'd been away. Feeling your smile against his lips for the first time.

"Let me ask you again," you said, pausing between kisses. "Since I clearly helped you win the bet, what are you going to do for me?"

"Anything you want," he said immediately as you started to push him toward the door with a grin. 

"How about we go for a long drive? And we can talk about how the next time you're deployed, your girlfriend will be waiting patiently for you to return?"

Bradley scooped you up, sending you into a fit of laughter as he carried you directly to his Bronco.

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

Bradley was exhausted on Monday to the point where the travel mug of coffee you sent him with did nothing to keep him from yawning out on the tarmac at 8:00. But every yawn ended with him smiling as he thought about how perfect the weekend had been. In the very early hours of Sunday morning, you'd agreed to be his girlfriend. And now he was waiting for the cherry on top of it all.

He didn't have to wait long as he stood between Reuben and Javy, the three of them looking nearly identical in their matching flight suits and boots, standing at attention in front of Maverick. Then Jake came strolling out, and Bradley instantly started laughing. 

Maverick turned, took one look at Hangman in his boxer shorts and combat boots and said, "I don't even want to know what's going on here, I just want five hundred push ups."

Jake's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his face as everyone else tried their best to hold in their laughter. Bradley took his phone out as discreetly as he could and snapped a picture of Jake panicking on the tarmac before he dropped down onto the ground and started on his punishment. 

"Everyone else to your jets," Mav barked, and Bradley didn't stick around to hear him say it again. Instead he texted you the photo of Jake along with a short message.

Couldn't have pulled it off without your help, Sweetheart.

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

The way I would die of this man just casually started calling me his Sweetheart. I love that he swept the guys to win the bet! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

[cordyce]

ao’nung is frustrated.

at least, that’s what you’ve deduced from watching him sharpen his knife for the past ten minutes straight. if he keeps going, it might get as thin as a wish bone; threatening to snap at the slightest bit of pressure. as much as you’d find amusement in the sight of that, you’d rather not be in the crossfire when it happens.

“what’s got you caught in its net?” you ask, finally, as you drop the gear you’ve been mending while ao’nung simmers.

“funny,” he mutters, but mirth is not something found in his tone. another scrape, another grating. he does not look over at you.

“i know. i’m the funniest person alive. you should be grateful you have the opportunity to bask in my presence.”

it’s a ploy—a tease. like waving fresh bait in front of a young ilu but never tossing it into the water for them to eat. your tactic with ao’nung is always the same. push and pull and prod just enough that he bites back with less venom and more demure. because sarcasm is better than spite, in all regards.

except now, he doesn’t take it. now, he simply keeps his head tucked down, his lips pressed in a hard line. whittling at his knife and spouting invisible steam out of his ears.

you stand up, make your way over to him and bend slightly at the waist to slide your hands along his sloped shoulders. his muscles go taut—just a bit—at the initial contact of your palms, but relax a second later. not to their resting state, no, but leaving the field of caught off guard at the very least. you hum, lean down further as you dip your hands over his clavicles, across the upper half of his sternum.

“what is wrong, ao‘nung?” its sincere, this time. your question. because despite the dynamic between the two of you, you really do care—jokes and jabs aside.

this silence is different. you can tell by the twitch of his ears that he’s thinking; mulling something over on his tongue before he decides whether to spit it out or swallow it down. you can never guess which one it will be, not with him. he acts on whims, never strategy. there is no speculating his next move, so you simply don’t try to.

“there has been talk among the reef.” it’s all he says; all he gives. such a shell of a man, forcing you to pry open his jaws to reach the pearl within.

it is good that you’ve always been so skilled with your hands.

“there is always talk among the reef,” you chuckle, begin to fiddle with the necklace that’s strung around his neck. hooking your chin over the top of his head, you look down to watch as he grinds his knife once again. “you know they like to keep their minds busy with silly things.”

“it isn’t a silly thing.”

“oh? then tell me, what is so dire that it could have the great ao’nung this tense, hm?”

his hands falter for the first time, a pause in his rhythmic grazing. your brows furrow at that, create a hairline crease in the middle that only smooths out as he resumes his motions. scrape, scrape, scrape again. it’s like he’s doing it in sync with his heart. if you shifted your hand over just a tad, you suppose you could test that theory.

“it is talk of you.”

quiet. a mere grumble under his breath. if you were not leaned over him like this you would not have even heard him. such an odd twinge to his tone; laced with something you can’t quite decipher. can’t quite pick up on. it isn’t necessarily anger, but something flirting along the lines of it.

“me? don’t tell me you have went around spreading rumors that i am possessed by eywa’s evil sister again. i thought you stopped that when we were kids.” you laugh through it, because the jagged edges of his timbre are making your fingers itch. “you’re going to ruin my reputation.”

he scoffs. condescending, dismissive. normally you’d take that as a good sign; a call back to his regular grating demeanor. at this specific moment, however, you find annoyance in it.

“your reputation is fine,” he tilts, gives a particularly harsh press of his knife that makes you think this just might be the time where it snaps. miraculously, it doesn’t. “so completely fine.”

“then what could they possibly find reason to speak of me for?” you press, rubbing your thumb over the cord of his necklace, twisting it around your fingers. “i have not caused any trouble lately. haven’t set fire to any maruis. why, there’s nothing that i can think of that could possibly warrant—“

“they speak of your lack of mate.”

his hands are working harder, less refined. jaw clenching, deltoids growing stiff below you. it’s all starting to air itself out, his jaws have cracked open just enough that you can finally see the pretty pink pearl that rests on the bed of his tongue. but it is not enough, not yet.

“then all they speak is the truth,” you shrug over him, keep your gaze locked on his movements. you want to be sure, before you jump to the assumptions that are creating hurdles in your mind. “there is no harm in speaking of public knowledge.”

“they—“ he hitches, twists his face up like his next words are sour on his tastebuds, “they are voicing their thoughts on potentials for you. they think.. rotxo is the best option.”

“oh, yes. rotxo would be a fine potential mate.”

and, ah. there it is. the coup de grace.

ao’nung snaps his head around towards you so fast you hardly have time to lean back to avoid getting smacked in the chin by his skull. there’s a fissure between his brows, his eyes have widened past the aggravated slits they were before. his mouth is cracked open in disbelief, of the fact that you agreed with him or another matter, you aren’t sure. either way, it is clear now what has been getting under the heir’s skin.

he's jealous. and you can't help but find that the slightest bit amusing. it's not often you have ao'nung in the palm of your hand like this; akin to a bug squirming under the pad of your thumb with no clear route of escape. you think you can play this up, just a little.

"you do not think that," he states, like he needs to speak it into existence. like if he says it then it will ring true, change your mind.

(he doesn't need to change your mind, but he doesn't need to know that right now).

"why would i not?" you hum, tip your head like you're truly contemplating it. "he is sweet. has a tender heart. and he is always so quick to help me. he doesn't even complain. i think taking him as a mate would be a good decision."

"the only thing good about rotxo is his hair," ao'nung spouts, rolls his eyes at you as his face fills up with indignation. "stupid, pretty boy goody two shoes."

"oh, you're right! and he's nice to look at," you agree, nod your head right along with it, "how could i forget?"

his cheek dips; he's sucking it in between his teeth. you've really done it, you think. setting him off has never been so easy. sure, it’s never too hard to get him riled up in the middle of a bickering match. but like this? aggravated over, what, exactly? the thought of you with someone else?

maybe you’re enjoying this a bit too much.

“he is not your type.” a bold proclamation, ao’nung spits out. grasping for straws; searching blindly. “you would not go well with him.”

“i think he is my type, actually,” you dispute, and he’s stopped all his movements now. knife long forgotten as he seethes over every word you speak. “kind. loyal. good morals. easy on the eyes. yes, definitely my type. that checks off the list.”

he purses his lips, knots up his brows. “that cannot be the list.”

“no?” you peruse, play into him. he makes this too easy, really. “what do you think is on the list, then? moody? messy? long hair? a tendency to be mouthy? being the chief’s son?”

that earns you a shove off of him; a click for him to realize you’ve been fucking with him this entire time. biting back your shit eating grin would be impossible so you don’t even try to. nor do you stop the laughter that bubbles out of you as he goes back to his knife work and curses you under his breath.

you reach for him again except this time you walk around until you’re in front of him. one hand on his shoulder, you lean down to shove the knife and sharpener out of his hands and plop yourself right into the slot his crossed legs have made. his gaze is narrowed at you, his lips jutted. you simply smile—innocent, sweet—as you slide your hands around to cup the nape of his neck.

“i don’t think rotxo could handle me,” you murmur, sickeningly saccharine in such a direct contrast from seconds before. ao’nung doesn’t budge. “and the good ones are always so boring. if he was my mate, when would i ever get the chance to get up to trouble?”

“you are trouble,” ao’nung scoffs; acting annoyed, fed up. but his hands give him away as they meet the dimples of your lower back, as they slide up your spine to hold you secure so you don’t fall backwards.

his facade of pretending to not care has never been too full proof. there’s been cracks in that glass since day one.

“your trouble,” you grin. your fingers begin to draw circles along the back of his neck, tease at his hairline. “you made me this way, you know.”

“i made you nothing,” he rebuts. “you are the one who always comes up with the pesky ideas that get us scolded.”

“ah, you’re right,” you agree with a faux sigh. “humor and brains. i guess i’m the funniest and smartest person alive. truly, you should be honored.”

ao’nung rolls his eyes, peels his hands off of you. “forget ability, i do not wish to handle you now. rotxo can have you, for all i care.”

“oh?” you quirk, begin to stand up. “should i go see what he is up to—“

“sit,” ao’nung orders before you can rise no more than a few inches off of his lap; hands gripping your waist to tug you back down. the playfulness drains from his eyes, that annoyance—jealousy—flashes across sea foam irises for just a moment. “you are not funny.”

you bite the edge of your lip, making your grin turn slanted. he is so fun to tease, to toss around. his palms are warm on the dip of your waist. sliding your hands further back, you skim your finger along the side of the braid encasing his queue. faint, light. he tries to hide the shiver it causes but you pick up on it regardless. and that only makes you grin wider.

“they will speak of me until i choose a mate,” you hum as you lean closer to him, minimize the distance between your faces. “rotxo is not the only name that will be paired with mine. they all like to place their bets, you know.”

“their bets are stupid,” ao’nung mutters; gruff and rumbling out of his chest as his attention flickers, falters, the closer you get.

being this close is nothing new. being this touchy is nothing new, either. but it’s almost like your skin is buzzing, your energies feeding off one another in the moment that sends you tumbling into a smug streak. or maybe, that’s just the power ao’nung holds over you and you’re scared to admit it.

“you only think they’re stupid because your name is being outnumbered in the betting pool.” maybe that’s a little mean, but it’s fun. your fingertips are heavier now, more directed as you trace the divots of his braid with one hand and gauge the rise and fall of his chest with the other. “if you were winning, would they be stupid then?”

“i am winning,” ao’nung conveys, so sure and lacking any sense of doubt in the slightest; a variance from a few moments before. and that, well, that actually makes you falter—for just a second.

“and how do you figure that?” you mumble out the question into the minute slot between the two of you. bated and breathy.

ao’nung hooks an arm around your waist, his other hand sliding up to grip the hinge of your jaw. not harsh, not rough, but firm. cradling you carefully but securely; solidly. your breath hitches, your fingers pause on their skimming across his queue encasing.

“because i am the only one who gets to do this,” he says. blunt and honest and certain as he closes the gap severing you.

he kisses you full and deep and warm. he kisses you like he has not eaten in days and you are the one thing that can sate his hunger. he kisses you like the ocean kisses the shore; yearning and all consuming, and rushing back once more as soon as their lips must part.

and he does; chase your lips as you pull back to catch your breath. places one, two, three pecks there before he deems it a safe retreat. his eyes are lidded, but no longer from frustration. that signature crooked, haughty smirk of his is curved into his pale lips. and instead of smacking it off, you’re considering how many more kisses it would take to wipe it away.

“oh yeah,” he chuckles, lips brushing over yours as he’s already leaning in again. “so winning.”

and you can’t help but agree.

likes & reblogs appreciated !

[ynsvnte]

Our world collided ! — Nishimura Riki

Genre: fluff, angst-ish.. Drabble, opposites attract, friends to lovers, childhood best friends, high school au

wc: 1.2k+ (1238)

warnings: kissing (like once), pet names (pretty girl), jealousy

pairing: emo!niki x coquette!reader

Masterlist

“Okay that’s enough” Niki says while pushing your hands off his hair.

“What—no I’m not even close to being done..!?” You complained, hoping he’ll let you continue to let you play with his hair. The current situation being that Niki’s hair being into pigtails along with some of your hair bows attached. You thought it was cute..while he thought the opposite. “It’s hurting my scalp, take these off me now..” he demanded.. you noticed the slight pout only his face. Making you chuckle.

“I’d rather not..” you say, squishing his cheeks. He rolls his eyes before grabbing a hold of your wrist and pulling it away from him.. “I warned you..” That’s all you heard until you felt the wall against your back.. you close your eyes at the impact until a few seconds past and you open them seeing Niki infront of you kneeling down to reach your height.. your heart sped up from him being this close..

“Umm…” you say hoping he would (not) back away. Niki gets closer noses barely centimeters from touching each other.. you breathe hitched. Niki notices this, smirking.. you could feel your face getting hot. You felt like he was going to kiss you.. that’s until he pulls his face away from yours.. laughing at your reaction.. “Why so shy..hmm?” He asked while smirking.. you glare up at him, clearly embarrassed.

But that won’t stop him from teasing you. “I’m not shy..just..surprised..” You said your gaze softened..you glance up, he’s staring at you.. you look away before walking away from him..disappointed.. Niki sighs at the sight of you walking away.. “Did I really make her upset?” He asks himself, wondering.

The school day was near the end.. you looked up the clock.. 15 more minutes left and then you can leave. You’re lucky this time you don’t have class with Niki. As you only have 2 with him and lunch period. You got distracted, letting time fly by quickly. You check the clock again..so so so close only 2 minutes.. you just go ahead and start packing up your things..within those 2 minutes the bell finally rings dismissing all the students for the day. You past students trying to avoid bumping into Niki ever since what happened earlier. You really had your hopes up, expecting him to like you after all these years of being friends and yet…nothing. You quickly pick up your pace and walk out the gate.. you usually walk home with Niki as your both next door neighbors having your moms be best friends back in their days. You don’t see him anywhere, not bothering to wait too..you just start walking home..alone which is rare.

You’ve made it home taking off your shoes and tossing them out of your way. You set your bag down. Walking to your room. Opening the door you rush towards your bed, jumping onto it. Letting the cool sheets hit your face. Your aching body feels better when the feeling of your bed hits it. You rest a bit before leaving your room seeing what’s there to eat. While you wait for your mom to come home.. you find some kind of chips and decide to snack on it.

You make your way over to the living room..you can see through the sheer curtain.. something catches your eye.. two figures walking.. side by side. You walk a little bit closer seeing its Niki.. and another girl.. you don’t know her..never seen her either.. you frown at the sight in front of you.. “that should be me” you thought.. you noticed he still had the bows you used on him from earlier.. clipped to his bag. You take one more look before you see them both entering his house.. you just too push whatever just happened out of your mind.

Hours later..you couldn’t stop thinking about Niki with another girl aside from you? You knew he was earlier scared by girls no matter who it was except for you of course.. the unknown girl left about an hour ago you look out your bedroom window seeing the light in Niki’s on. You see the cup and strings from your window from the outside.. that’s how you and Niki used to communicate.. you resist using it.. thinking it seems foolish.. but you decided to anyway.. you open up your window.. a gust of wind blowing your hair out of your face.

You pick up the cup.. tapping into it 2 times remembering the code you both set up a long time ago. You weren’t expecting him to answer.. a few moments of silence passed you debated to go back inside or try again, before tapping your finger twice again.. you hear his window open up.. you look up seeing him.. in a basic black tee.. yet he looked so good. Moonlight shining his skin.. giving it a youthful look. Niki was in the same daze as you admiring your face.. doe eyes.. staring straight right at him.. plump lips he wishes to one day kiss. Niki slowly picks up the cup speaking into it.

“Need something..?” He says, your throat goes dry.. it’s like you never talked to him before. You clear your throat.. “Umm—can I get my hair bows back..I’m using it for tomorrow..” you made that up..it was the only believable one to get an excuse to talk to him.. “oh I don’t know if I can throw it at you..” “no I mean can I come over just for a bit..” you say.

You can see his reaction slightly confused but agreed anyway. You take a short trip to his house..going through the back door like it was your own home. You go up to his room. You knock before he opens the door for you. Niki is met with you and your hello kitty pajamas.. and hair in 2 braids decorated with bows. “Hi..” you said slowly.. Niki moves aside allowing you to enter. You keep your gaze low, but from a far you can see your bows.. you quickly grabbed it.. “That’s all?” Niki asks..

“Yes..wait actually yea.. no I mean no….i still have something to ask” Niki close the door, sitting down on his bed.. “yeah?” You get embarrassed to ask this but you continue on.. “Umm..I was wondering who that girl was..that you know you were walking with earlier..” you said avoiding his gaze completely. You hear him chuckle lightly.. “that..oh well..she just wanted to hang out..knowing her intentions..but don’t worry I don’t like her..” “why would I be worried if she likes you or—“ Your voice slowly fades away when you realize Niki's face is close up to yours. “There’s no denying it..I can see right through you..” you knew you were already blushing by now. “Not that I would want you to deny it..because..I so happen to feel the same..” he added smiling at you. You never see him smile. Always having a blank face for most part. Niki holds your jaw bringing your face closer to his before colliding your lips together. Lips against lips. His soft lips against yours. The kiss was tender..slow.. moments later he pulls away.. “Now pretty girl, care to cuddle..” he offered, holding his arms out.. you smiled at him.. “Of course”

Author’s note: get a little inspiration from the book I’m reading rn which is if he had been with me RAHH 🦅 back with my writing haven’t written for Niki in so long along with sunoo WHICH I NEED TO DO ASAP! Crazy how this was in my drabbels for 2 days while my hee one is a month and it’s not coming out anytime soon 🙄💀

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[golden1u5t]

lingerie | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: you're showing spencer all the lingerie sets you got while out shopping with the girls and you knew he'd like them but you underestimated just how much he'd like them.

you just gotten back to your apartment with arms full of bags from your night out with the girls. you'd barely been able to get the door opened with how many bags you had but when you did you immediately went to your bedroom and dropped them all on the floor in front of the bed. you let out a loud huff and crawled onto the bed, spencer tossed his book aside and opened his arms so you could lay on top of him.

"did you have fun?" he asked as he started to push your jacket off of your shoulders, he wasn't sure where all you went and he didn't exactly want outside clothes on him or the bed. you lifted your head from his chest and nodded, craning your head forward so you could peck his lips.

"yeah, we had to end the night early since will called and said henry was getting sick. we got to do most of the things we wanted though, so it's okay." you moved off of him so you didn't crush him from being on top of him for too long. spencer watched as you went to the foot of the bed and started to pick up all your bags and place them on the bed for him to see.

the first thing that caught his eye were the bags with the brand name of the store you always go to for your bras, panties, and lingerie. he moved closer to the edge of the bed and immediately reached for those bags but you quickly stopped him by pulling them out of his reach.

"can i see them? please?" he frowned. you weren't planning on putting any of the things you'd got back on since you were already a bit tired but looking at spencer's wide eyes and the pout on his lips had you letting out a sigh of defeat and agreeing. you picked up the bags and took them to the bathroom with you so that he couldn't see them before you put them on.

spencer set all the other bags back down on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes trained on the bathroom door waiting for it to open. he heard you let out a few curse words and that made him smile a bit, he could easily imagine you on the other side of the door getting frustrated because you were struggling with getting something on.

a few minutes later the door swung open and spencers smile dropped, he let out a shaky breath as his eyes roamed over your body. subconsciously, his hand went to his rapidly growing bulge almost immediately. as you fully stepped out of the bathroom you ran your hands over your body, over your sides, hips, and thighs.

"¡ wasn't to sure about this piece," you admitted. you stalked closer to him until you stood between his opened legs, you hadn't noticed that he'd been palming himself yet. "but it's purple, your favorite color."

the most spencer could muster up in response was choked out moan. you ran your hand through his hair and tugged his head up to tear his eyes away from your chest, earning you a loud whine from his parted lips. spencer reached up and placed his hands on your hips as you lowered yourself onto his lap.

as soon as you landed on his lap he pressed his head into your chest and his hips flexed up, his cock spurting cum and ruining his pants. your eyebrows furrowed and you leaned back to look down at him.

"did you just..finish?" you questioned, trying to hold back a laugh as you looked at his flushed face, spencer tucked his head deeper into your chest to hide his blush.

[thedevilssinner]

I wanna share something because I don't want to suffer alone with my thoughts 😅

It's one of the scenarios where Tav knew Astarion before he was turned, but I've never read anything where it played out like this.

I apologize if something is wrong, English is not my native language.

Imagine that Tav is an elf and Astarion's lover before he was turned.

They're devastated when they finds out that Astarion has been killed. Mourning his death for a very long time and even moving away from Baldur's gate because everything reminds them too much of Astarion.

They know that all their happiness and love are gone. No one can fill the void that Astarion's death has brought them.

And now, two hundred years later, they stand on the beach, the sun beating down on their head, the burning Nautiloid at their back and before them... Astarion?

Only it's all wrong, his eyes are red and he's pale... paler than he's ever been.

Anger rises up in Tav. How dare some shapeshifter even take on Astarion's form after their beloved has been dead for 200 years?

And do a bad job at it!

Before the pale creature could even call for help again, Tav lunged at him with an angry cry, surprising the imitation and truckling it to the ground, dagger pressed to it's throat while they straddled his body. "How dare you?! How dare you to take his form?! Show me who you really are... now!" They command, surprising even themselves with their actions. But they couldn't stop... not when someone is using Astarion's face for gods knows what.

"Darling, there seems to have been a little misunderstanding. I don't know what you're talking about, and I'd appreciate it if you'd remove the dagger from my neck." The shapeshifter replies, his voice smooth and flirtatious and so unmistakably Astarion's that it hurts, and Tav presses the dagger a little harder against his neck.

"Shut up, shapeshifter!" Tav shouts at him, gaze anchored on that so familiar yet different face. "Where did you even get his face?! His voice?!" They ask angrily, the hand holding the dagger starting to shake. "You have no rights to pretend you're Astarion when he's... when he's gone. And to do it badly!" They continue, still angry but deep seated sadness linger behind.

The shapeshifter's eyes widen, opening his mouth as if he wants to say something, Tav noticing the fangs there and even worse idea that him being a shapeshifter, starts to creep into their mind.

"Tav?" Fake Astarion finally speaks, saying their name as if he were saying it for the first time in a long time, tasting it on his lips. The previous flirting gone. Instead he looked confused and as if just now he remembered something that was hidden in his mind. "You are them, aren't you? Gods, how could I forget... so beautiful." His red eyes glide along Tav's face, his voice nothing than a whisper. He's clearly lost in his head and Tav swallows thickly, realisation slowly grasping their mind but they fight against it.

"No, stop! Stop it! You can't be him. You can't... he's dead and your eyes are wrong. You're wrong." Tav says, their body starting to shake all over, threatening to cut him by mistake with the dagger still against his neck.

But now it's easy for 'the shapeshifter' to take Tav's wrist and move their hand away from his neck, easily wrenching the dagger from their fingers and tossing it aside. His lips stretch into a sad smile.

"That's what vampirism do to you, my love." Astarion says ever so softly, the deepest pain and sadness etched in his voice and Tav knows, feels it in their soul, that he is telling the truth.

So that's how Tav meets Astarion again, this encounter more painful and bittersweet than anything else.

They stay on the beach for a little while, Tav crying their heart out and Astarion trying to hold back his own tears. Both of them not expecting something like this to happen.

(Sorry if Astarion seems ooc.)

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Valentine’s Day

Teen!NanamixTeen!Reader

(Part 2)

“Is this some kind of prank?”

That was the first thing to cross First Year Nanami Kento’s mind. Of course it had to be. What other reason would there be for a folded pink note to be on his desk? He grimaced as he picked up the note and looked it over. It was made of construction paper and smelled faintly of perfume and markers, which he could see bleeding through. All signs pointed to one thing: Gojo wrote a fake note and doused it in perfume to trick him.

What a pain…

The thought that someone, anyone, could have written him a genuine love note?! Ridiculous! This Valentine’s Day was going to end with Yu sharing all the sweets he got and Kento was just fine with that. He crumbled the letter up and put it in his pocket to throw away later. Luckily you didn’t stick around to see that far. You had gotten far too embarrassed. Shoko watched as you anxiously walked in circles. It thought of him rejecting you was heartbreaking but if you didn’t let your feelings be known how could you move on!

“Pacing won’t help you.” Shoko stated.

“I know but- ugh!” You slumped onto the bench into defeat. “I hate feelings.”

Shoko hummed in acknowledgment.

“Dude you are going to town on those cigarettes.” You stated

“Oh these? It’s candy from Gojo, I don’t wanna smell like smoke when me and Utahime go karoking later. You wanna come if Nanami rejects you?”

“What? You got a crush on the emo kid?” Gojo laughed. You quickly jumped back in shock. Him and Geto had the annoying hair of appearing anywhere you were. Gojo was of course doing it on purpose but you wished Geto would warn you.

“Don’t tease them Satoru.” Geto said in a light tone. Something about it still felt mocking.

“Spies! The both of you!” You yelled.

“Nah, you just talk too loud.” Gojo leaned over the benches back. His body slumped against your back as he shook your shoulders. “Come on~ Tell me about your crush~”

“Could you fuck off? You are so annoying.” You sneered.

“It’s cute (Y/N)! I didn’t think you would like the dark and brooding type.” Gojo cooed.

“He’s not dark and brooding!” You yelled, face flushed with embarrassment.

Gojo wasn’t completely wrong, Nanami was a little dark and brooding. He doesn’t really talk to people and always looks annoyed or angry. You would have continued your school days without ever noticing him. He noticed you though. When you were harassed by a group of third years, he told them to back off and helped you to class. He picked up the books you dropped by accident and gave you the treats he didn’t eat. Nanami was very kind and respectful to you despite his dislike for Gojo.

You pushed the bashful thoughts out of your head. The anxiety crept back in. Surely Nanami had found the note. He had to be coming to find you eventually.

“Oi Nanami!” Gojo called over. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest.

You saw Nanami’s expression change to annoyance as he walked in long strides towards you. He didn’t look at you aside from a quick glance before fixating back on Gojo.

“Ohh~ What’s that? A love note?” Gojo joked. Nanami held up the crumbled pink paper and tossed it towards Gojo. It bounced off his chest and hit the ground, rolling right in front of you.

“Don’t leave notes at my desk again, senpai.” He stated.

Nanami left the four of you in a deafening silence. It was like the whole world had just stopped and you could only hear his footsteps disappear in the distance. Geto cleared his throat to say something but you couldn’t understand it. You leaned down to pick up the note.

“Shoko. I got some homework to finish, come get me when you're ready to leave.” You said blankly.

“Uh, yeah.” She replied.

You quietly walked back to your room.

[transformhim]

Pose

“We good here?”

The model’s question caught him off guard as Raul looked up from from his camera, adjusting the frame and focus for his next shot while his assistant, Damien, moved onto the set to adjust the light and prop placements. The deep bass background music played throughout the apartment in the awkward silence.

The fuck does he mean, are we done?? We’ve hardly started! Raul thought with an annoyed scratch at the back of his head. The model had been a terrible subject to begin with, giving poses and taking heavy sighs at each direction Raul tried to give him, and essentially treated the shoot as though it was something he was bored doing. His payment was way more than modest and the shoot wasn’t supposed to take more than an hour, but he looked like he was ready to leave just 20 minutes in.

Raul cleared his throat, “Uhh, actually we still need a couple more shots. The client is looking for a pretty varied spread to choose from. So if we could j—..”

“Come on, man, you’re really gonna make me do this for another 40 minutes? I’m sure what you got is fine.”

Raul breathed in heavily, “Look, it’ll just take a bit more, the contract said that it wouldn’t be—..”

“Well, you can take it up with my agent, man, I got places I gotta be,” the model started stepping off the set, turning his back to Raul to start packing his things.

Raul turned his eyes towards Damien, lifting his palms up in a disbelieving gesture and shaking his head. Damien just rolled his eyes and shrugged with a dejected smirk. They’ve dealt with these kinds of divas numerous times before. Almost too many to count, actually.

But money had been tight at the studio since the pandemic hit, and even all these years later it still hadn’t recovered. they couldn’t afford to keep getting these types of dismissive twats leave shoots before they were supposed to. Clients were always very specific about what they wanted and could cut pay if they weren’t satisfied.

But Raul and Damien had their own means of dealing with these kinds of rude bastards. As they exchanged wordless looks expressing their annoyance and frustration, Damien’s eyes began to slowly drift towards the model off set, gathering his belongings. His dejected look changed to one of curiosity as he bit his lip. He looked towards Raul and narrowed his eyes with a cheeky grin.

‘Should I?’ Damien mouthed silently towards Raul.

A sly grin spread across Raul’s face as he considered Damien’s proposal. He looked back at the model—turned away from them as he texted to his agent or slam piece or gym family or whatever—and back at Damien, biting his lip mischievously and nodding.

Damien smiled wider and stretched. He took off his tank top and tossed it aside, his toned hairy torso now bare. His fingers hooked under his waistband, and his basketball shorts and boxers drop silently to the floor as he kicked them over on top of his tank top. Now naked and hardening quickly, he arched his back in a stretch, rolled his neck, and rubbed his palms together as he stepped towards Raul. He leaned in for a quick kiss with his partner as he took the bottle body oil next to Raul that the model had used and squirted a massive helping into his hand, slathering it over his chest, arms, and face. Quickly, he moved towards the model gathering his things, ducking down lower as he approached.

“When you get to it, make sure my payment goes t—UUUHHHNNGGG!!” The model was interrupted in the middle of his sentence as Damien, in one fluid motion, pulled the model’s speedo down and plunged his face between his globular asscheeks. The model groaning and grunting in mindless pain and confusion, gripping the sides of the table where his things were sitting, as Damien popped his oily face and head into model’s tight hole, sending a loud squelching *SCHLORP* echoing through the apartment.

Damien’s slick body then began to suck up into the model’s hole, his muscular tan form thinning and contorting as he slithered deeper and deeper into the model’s guts, the entire process emitting a familiar meaty, slimy, slurping sound Raul knew and loved so well. Raul licked his lips, pawing his swelling package, as he watched the model’s sculpted ass distend slightly as his tight hole widen more and more as it hungrily slurped Damien inside him, his tattooed, lubricated form and limbs compressing in on themselves as he plunged deeper. Raul couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the model—he knew full well how ecstatic and orgasmic it felt to have Damien slither up inside him… and what came next.

Just as Damien’s ass and throbbing rod sank into the model’s guts, his thighs and legs shot up into the hole at a much faster speed, whipping into the model’s hole noisily. Raul had shoved his hands into his shorts and was stroking eagerly as the Damien's feet slurped inside while the model groaned and contorted, arching his neck and back and standing on the tips of his toes, cringing at the pain and pleasure racking through his body.

Damien was gleefully readjusting his out-of-proportion frame within the squeezing, slimy, meaty confines of the model’s body, feeling different parts of the model’s sides, abs, and back twitch, flex, and contort, as his body tried to adjust to its invader. He could hear the muffled sounds of Raul’s horny, drunken laughter from the outside, thinking he for sure must have been making the model appear to have a substantially pregnant beer gut as Damien’s body centralized in his torso. After using a stretched out hand to brush his lubricated, wet hair out of his face, Damien went to work shoving his limbs into the model’s extremities.

Damien loudly moaned from within the body as he felt his arms and legs come to new life with increased strength and size while his limbs shoved through slick meat like a tight sleeve into the model’s beefy appendages. He smirked, feeling cocky and horny as he felt his arms burst into massive cannons and his heart fluttered as he felt the rest of him come to life. Damien arched in exhilarated bliss as he felt his chest, torso, and back first compress under the weight of the model’s squeezing body and then surge outward in new sensations of power and mass as Damien’s senses merged with the model’s, enticing him to give his big chest a flex to feel it bounce with new weight.

Raul nearly blew his load from an observer’s perspective. The model’s head was lolled backwards and his eyes rolled back while his body underwent what looked to be an instant pump, his muscles standing out more prominently under his skin, bit by bit, as his boyfriend filled him up like a balloon. Raul gasped as he stroked himself, watching Damien fill up the model’s lower half, making his already impressive thighs and glutes swell larger still. The thong he was wearing for the shoot looked somehow more risqué than earlier, hugging the model’s sweaty skin more tightly and accentuating his now-larger parts. The model was no longer the shredded twunk he was when he came into the apartment, but a swaggering thicc muscle stud with his and Damien’s combined mass.

Finally, Raul could see a sizable lump appear from near the model’s collarbone, stretching the model’s gold chain to its limit, as Damien began to shove his own head upwards into the model’s. He began to elicit deeper, gurgling groans as Damien wiggled and stretched his head up into the neck. Raul felt himself nearing completion as the model’s head suddenly jolted upwards with a dull crack, the lump in the model’s throat now gone. It wasn’t until Raul heard Damien utter his first satisfied groan in the model’s low voice that he blew his pent up load all over the floor in front of him.

Damien rolled his head around in his new body, stretched his shoulders and panted a few more breaths. He touched the foreign curves and angles in his face for a moment, turned on by his own handsome, sharp, smooth face. He felt sweat dripping off him from his exertion and huffed a big whiff of the new musk he emitted. Not bad!

“Alright!” He rubbed his hands off his face and down his pillowy chest.

“Let’s take some pictures.”

Damien turned to see that Raul had blown a sizable load all over the floor, some even on the set, and giggled as Raul chuckled, panting, coaxing the last of his load out of his shaft, letting it dribble down his fingers and onto the puddle below.

“Already?! Come on, man,” Damien chastised playfully.

“Sorry, babe, I just love the way you filled him out, dude. Fuck!”

“Oh? Y’like?” Damien teased walking towards him, saucily lolling his tongue out while he flexing his arms hard and tensing his pec muscles several times. He was being corny like always, but Raul was kicked into 5th gear again, instantly ready to blow another load.

“Yeah, dude, I fuckin’ do,” Raul took the liberty of feeling up Damien’s slick muscle gut, running his hands over his protruding abs. Damien could see how into this his boyfriend was and decided to move things forward a bit.

He grabbed Raul’s hand and shoved it into his thong, feeling his new hardening 7 incher steel against his boyfriend’s palm. He humped and gyrated his mammoth cock against Raul’s hand and asked, “What about the shoot?”

“Shoot can wait,” Raul moaned as he gripped onto Damien’s slick dick and stroked, lifting up Damien’s huge arm with his other hand and burying his face into Damien’s sweaty pits, licking and lapping at the moist surface while inhaling deeply.

Damien lifted up his other arm for Raul to let his boyfriend worship his other pit, bouncing his pecs a bit as Raul slathered his greedy face across his sweaty jugs on his way to the next pit. Damien grinned as he felt Raul continue to lovingly work his shaft. He was looking forward to a hedonistic, indulgent weekend with his boyfriend—he just hoped they eventually remember to finish the shoot.

[bluelockmaniac]

★ ft. itoshi sae x gn!reader 彡 wc: 1k

▯ synopsis. he reluctantly agrees to let you do his nighttime skincare routine, but surprises you at the end with something you don't expect.

sae still couldn’t quite understand why he had agreed to let you do his nighttime skincare routine. he silently laid in bed, watching you from afar as you clumsily rummaged through the the drawers of your glowing vanity, searching for whatever products you had planned to put on his uninterested face.

a few moments later, you cheerfully skip over to him with breathy giggles and colourful containers in your hands. from the content smile tugging at your lips alone, he was beginning to regret ever allowing you to help him out. 

in hindsight, he realized he should have just slapped on some moisturizer as he normally would and gone to bed, but no— your adorable pleading earlier had managed to soften his heart.

“quit the bubbly act,” he mumbles, voice muffled by the pillow. he feels the mattress dipping next to him under your added weight. “it’s creeping me out.”

“c’mon, look at me,” the corners of your lips quirk up as you bring his head to rest on your plushy thigh. he reluctantly looks up at you through his thick lashes, letting out a soft groan when he feels you sliding a fuzzy teddy bear headband over his head, gently pushing back his red bangs.

he raises his arm slowly and places his palm on the rise of your cheek, soothing your soft skin. “sweetheart, you don’t have to do all this– the moisturizer is fine.”

“yes, yes, i know,” you turn your head to the side, picking up the cosmetics and placing them messily on his chest. “i’m doing this because i want to. you’ve already cleansed your face, right?”

sae subtly nods, sighing as his arm falls back to his side. he closes his eyes and readjusts his head comfortably on your lap as he hears the sound of you flicking the toner container open. you pour the solution onto your palms, gently dabbing it onto his soft face, and then rubbing it from his forehead all the way down to his neck.

“does this feel good, sae?” you cooed serenely, tossing the toner aside on the bed before reaching for the serum tube. his teal eyes, partially open now, were deeply immersed in watching you as you applied the serum, massaging it smoothly and carefully to avoid getting it in his eyes.

“mmh, you’re talking too much,” he grumbles faintly as his hand slips up your loose shirt, gently caressing your stomach. his half-lidded eyes were hesitating, threatening to shut once more under the calm soothings of your fingers. “just shut up and hurry, i want to sleep…”

“i’m almost done— look, only the moisturizer’s left now.” you giggle as you look at your boyfriend’s drowsy face, hearing his occasional sighs and noticing his struggle to stay awake. it warms your heart that he trusts you enough to allow himself to be seen by you in his most vulnerable moments.

“sae, can i please please please put the cream on my face and then rub it from my skin to yours? pleaseee?” you beg, batting your eyelashes at him as if it’ll convince him— it worked once, but sae won’t let it happen again, right?

right.

his auburn brows knit together, eyes narrowing as he shoots you a disgusted look. his big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. “ew, no. weirdo.”

you pout, “sae! stop acting as if my face is infested with germs!”

“it is, though.” he retorts calmly.

“—contagious germs.” you correct yourself, squishing his slippery cheeks harshly. “fine, whatever… so much for pampering and making me happy, sae…”

he rolls his eyes as you begin smearing the creamy substance on his face, a small smile threatening to stretch along his lips. “stop being so dramatic and hand me the chapstick,”

you blink in confusion, turning your head to grab the said product. you hand it over to him without much thought, watching as he pushes himself up with his arms, sitting up against the headboard— the warmth of his head on your lap dissipates, feeling empty now that he was no longer resting there.

sae brings the lip balm to his mouth, biting the cap off. “c’mere,” he beckons you closer to him, gripping your chin as he drags the vanilla-scented bliss across your plump lips. he tilts his head to the side, then throws the tube inattentively on the bed.

“woah, sae being a gentleman? that’s n—” you were interrupted as he brought his hand to the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest and kissing you on your lips delicately, stealing the scented, buttery salve he applied earlier and transferring it onto his lips.

your eyes widen, hands instinctively sliding up your face to cover the blush blossoming on your cheeks. your fingers separated carefully, peeking at the football player’s blank, unaffected expression. “w-well, that’s one way to put on chapstick…”

“you looked beautiful, i guess.” he sighs, flopping back onto the bed.

it wasn’t until hearty, soft laughs escaped your parted lips that he glanced at you confused, wondering as to why you palmed your mouth, fruitlessly trying to suppress the sounds. he lifts a brow, “what’s so funny?”

you shake your head, still giggling, as your arm reaches to your nightstand to grab your phone. grinning mischievously, you aim the camera at his now-frowning face and snap a photo.

“what the heck are you d—”

“shh,” you smile, handing him the phone and kissing his cheek as you comb your fingers through his hair. “aren’t you adorable?”

his face falls, cheeks warming as he stares at the childish picture of him wearing the wooly teddy bear headband. he gives you back your phone with a grunt, flicking your forehead gently before pulling you into his arms. pressing soft kisses to your head, he holds you close, a smile tugging at his lips despite his mock annoyance. “what a little tease…”

he did not take it off.

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[whateveriwant]

The 141 helping you build IKEA furniture

Price

"I don't need instructions," he says, confidently tossing the assembly packet aside

…Only to realize not even ten minutes later that he does, in fact, need the instructions

If he isn't the poster boy for 'Dad that makes you hold the flashlight while he works' then I don't know what is

"Hand me the drill bit." … "No, the drill bit." … "That's a screw."

In the end, he builds it more or less entirely on his own (but he'll make sure to give you a firm pat on the back for all the hard work you did today, champ)

Ghost

Unlike Price Actually doesn't need instructions (but isn't afraid to refer to them if necessary)

Pretty much completely takes over the moment he walks in, relegating you to sit and watch quietly from the sidelines

Gets it done in like an hour and a half, maybe two hours tops, and it's immaculate. Truly showroom worthy

While he's here, do you have anything else that needs fixing? A leaky faucet? Maybe a loose floorboard?

You know what, he's just gonna have a look around and see what else needs tending to (What can I say? The man's good with his hands)

Gaz

Isn't who he'd call if he were in your shoes, but he's more than happy to lend a hand if you need

But he's not coming over just to help. No, he's making it a whole thing: ordering pizza, drinking beer, and jamming out to some tunes

He'd be the first to have you as an active participant rather than just sitting on the side handing him stuff

He might get frustrated once or twice during the build, but when he excuses himself to the restroom, he's definitely not covering up his screams with the tap running full blast, nuh-uh

When all's said and done, you're left with four extra screws and a couple washers, but hey, if it works, it works, right?

Soap

Is just as clueless as you are when it comes to this stuff

Probably spends the first 20-30 minutes searching up online tutorials, only to get sidetracked by the goofy names some of these products have

"Och, not a fartyg!" he guffaws, wiping a stray tear from his eye. "Sounds like Ghost's nickname after eatin' one too many beans on toast."

Cut to two hours later and you're both sitting on the ground, surrounded by loose pieces, scratching your heads like a couple of dumb monkeys

Ultimately, you'll end up having to call one of the other guys to come over and build the damn thing for you