#i considering making the 'like holding hands' joke but no

[cringefailkralie]

ridiculously long list of things i’ve noticed about thomas grant and adam wadsworth’s portrayals of albus and scorpius

sorry in advance if this is messy, i wrote this at like 4am

albus flinches away when james steps too close to him!!!

when scorpius asks albus whether he prefers albus or al, he doesn’t have to think about his answer. instead he just looks shocked that someone was actually asking that, like nobody’s ever considered his feelings before. makes me feel like he’d been waiting his entire life for someone to actually ask him that.

tom’s albus doesn’t cry during the fight with harry like i’ve seen a lot of the other actors do. he just stares blankly ahead of him and completely shuts down. i’m head over heels in love with this choice because it really hammers home how hard it is for albus to express his feelings or communicate with anyone.

albus’s reaction to the love potion really really makes me believe that ron intended it to be a mean gay joke. even if ron didn’t intend for it to come across that way, that’s definitely what albus takes it as.

scorpius is just staring vacantly at a wall before he spots albus on the train in their 4th year. not sure if this is a specific acting choice or if i’m just reading into it too much?

they hold hands for a second and stand with their faces an inch away from each other as soon as they duck into their train compartment. their body language in private is so different from their body language in public.

albus squeezes his eyes closed when they hug. he really needed that physical affection but he hates anyone but scorpius being near him.

scorpius puts his hand on albus’s chest when the train starts moving. nothing to say about that its just really gay.

my favorite delivery of “oooo a quiz… WIZZO!!!” i fucking love how he does jazz hands when he says it, especially because it’s the second time he does jazz hands in that scene. he’s so me.

albus does so many little hand gestures in this scene, he’s way more comfortable being expressive around scorpius. he almost mirrors scorpius’s stupid little mannerisms.

bonus- not scorbus related but craig is first seen wearing his beanie on the train during the this sequence (where albus and scorpius decide to run away)!! idk if they don’t do this in other productions or if i just hadn’t ever picked up on it before, but it’s a really cute detail. does anyone know if he canonically got it when he became head boy?

when amos first tells them to leave, scorpius grabs onto albus’s sleeve

not even technically them but the ron and harry actors grab onto each other sooooo much (as albus and scorpius)

in love with how long scorpius hold out his “WIIIIIIIZZZOOOO” and how albus tries to match his energy with the “DOUBLE WIZZO”

delphi steals scorp’s little phrases and his awkward way of speaking and his mannerisms to try and appeal to albus because she knows that he reeeeally likes him- and i hate hate HATEEEE how she makes him feel like a freak for being himself when all the while she’s stealing his personality. scorpius plays with the fabric of his sweater and then fidgets with his hands after she tries to make him feel left out in the forbidden forest and i can FEEL what he’s feeling through the screen.

scorpius is JEALOUS jealous of delphi and when he talks to her his voice is quiet and monotone, which is the most un-scorpius thing ever. i love it. you can feel how much he hates her. i hate her too, this delphi is despicable. (very talented actress!!)

when scorpius tears his eyes away from the beautiful sight in front of them to look at albus and say “you’re my best friend” (which is crazy enough on its own) he talks in a really sweet, low voice before returning really quickly to his normal scorp-voice, as if he was afraid to let albus think about what had just happened

albus jumps up and down with excitement when they announce the triwizard tournament. he starts and then has to stop himself from cheering for hogwarts. funny that a guy who was just saying how much he hates hogwarts would do a thing like that.

everyone around scorpius gets startled when he starts cheering for krum because his screaming is so weird lmao

at the end of the scene where albus tells scorpius they’ll be better off without each other, scorpius just slumps over on the steps and stays there for the ENTIRETY of the next scene until he eventually gets wheeled off with the stairs. it looks like he’s fiddling with something? maybe his wand? maybe just his hands?

obviously the staircase ballet is the staircase ballet, but the way they look at each other is just AAAAUUUUGHHHHHHH

at the end of the ballet scorpius steps towards albus first, but albus is the one who reaches his hand out and slinks down onto the steps

obsessed with that gay little purse scorpius carries the time turner in

delphi gets scorpius to let his guard down during their conversation and scorpius starts talking like himself in front of her again!!!

albus does the little puke-gag-joke-thing in the library to try and make scorpius feel better </3

they’re both fidgeting with their hands throughout their whole conversation :(

ALBUS’S LITTLE GIGGLE WHEN SCORPIUS AGREES TO COME WITH HIM TO FIX TIME

this isn’t specific to this production but scorpius’s shoes are one of my favorite details. in the normal world, he wears big clunky shoes to showcase his awkwardness, whereas in the dark dimension he wears running shoes!! evil scorp is athletic!!!

the second “im fighting for albus” that comes out of scorpius’s mouth is said almost entirely to himself

their little hug in the water :,)

i LOVE LOVE LOVE that scorpius tries to hug draco and he pushes him away and throws his jacket at him in such a cold manner. it makes their hug near the end feel so much more important to their relationship. as soon as we meet scorpius he immediately refers to himself as having daddy issues and we don’t see nearly enough of that in this play.

bonus p2- one of my favorite parts of this show is the in trouble again number!!! i love the background gang and all of their little scenes like this. craig being a little gossip monger is funny as shit!!!! it gives him so much personality and makes his death that much sadder :(

the delivery of “scorpius….. he matters to me…. you know that don’t you?” is INSANE. tom grant delivers all of the coming out adjacent lines so perfectly.

i love how scorpius moves his body. he waves his arms around in the air so often.

scorpius tickled albus lmao they’re so weird

when scorpius talks about hating the other world, albus throws in “apart from polly chapman fancying you” quite bitterly and scorpius almost completely cuts him off. he doesn’t acknowledge what he said in any way shape or form and albus seems to notice that he’s not interested in polly.

scorpius rubs his socks on the floor while he talks :3

the choice to have scorpius move from his bed to albus’s bed and pull albus’s blanket into his lap when he tells him that he changed himself back for him is so AAAUGHHH

AND SCORPIUS DOES THE SAME THING THAT HE DID EARLIER AGAIN!!! he gets all quiet and sweet when he’s sort of admitting his feelings to albus and then all of a sudden he stands up and goes back to his normal loud voice

“MALFOY THE UNANXIOUS IS A PRRRRRETTY GOOD LIIIIAAAR”

delphi mocking scorpius and him immediately tensing up oh he hates her ass so much

scorpius reaches out to try and intercept albus handing delphi the time turner and albus giggles at scorpius because he’s happy she’s not extremely pissed at them

scorpius holds onto the railing right up until he gets his hands bound together because he’s afraid of heights. thought it was cute that adam chose to do this even though his fear of heights isn’t mentioned anywhere in this version.

i LOVE the torture scene in this version. albus is stone faced when delphi is threatening to torture him and then he IMMEDIATELY falls to his knees begging and pleading when she turns toward scorpius.

delphi is quite literally outing albus in this scene. the silence after she says that love is his weakness and points to scorpius is SO long and SO loud omg. it’s quite literally ten whole seconds (i counted) of albus and scorpius just looking at each other. it genuinely feels like she just spilled out what he’s been keeping inside of himself for so long, it’s gutwrenching. i guess they did just watch craig die so they do in fact have bigger problems, but you can see albus’s heart stop beating and its so terrible.

i love how albus turns to scorpius when the stationmaster starts unintelligibly talking to them like “hey, you’re doing the talking rn just so you know”

i’m obsessed with how excited scorpius is to tell albus all about the history of the place they’re in. in love with his little gasps at everything he sees and his jump when he says “SQUEAK!”

albus motioning for scorpius to stop when he’s demonstrating how to scream for help lmaoooo

albus pointing with both hands at scorpius while they try to come up with a plan is so cute. albus believes in him so much.

i love how scorpius keeps hugging draco even as he’s talking

their foreheads are literally brushing against each other my god these bitches gay

albus asks “and thats who you want in your palace?” in an almost panicked way like he’s afraid scorpius doesn’t feel the same way about him.

albus holds onto scorpius’s shoulders while rose tries to reassure them that they didn’t just get walked in on lmao

3rd and final instance of scorpius trying to change the subject- asking immediately about quidditch so albus doesn’t get the chance to say anything related to what just happened

scorpius says “come on” like he’s trying to get albus to come cut a rug with him at a middle school dance

obsessed with their little gagging and puking bit and how they made it a callback to what albus does in the library

maybe my favorite hug moment from any scorbus duo. i love how albus initially reacts with shock but then melts into it and closes his eyes, only pulling away to make sure he’s not reading the situation entirely wrong (he’s not)

my favorite ending scene by far. the coming out hits SO hard. the way albus fiddles with his zipper and scrunches up his sleeve in his hand, you can tell how absolutely terrified he is of saying this to his dad. the line delivery is genuinely fantastic. the more he pauses the longer you have to take it all in- and he pauses a LOT.

okie thanks for reading!!!!!

[justcallmesakira]

"𝑰𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚 𝒃𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌?"

summary: just my favourite characters taking care of reader when shes sick

genre: hurt to comfort, full fluff

warnings: reader has a personality similar to me!, fem reader, nothing else, double suicide joke on dazai, silly pedo joke on fyodor

a/n: guys please I am so sick right now I feel sohdghdgdhd if only there was someone who could send me some sakilai selfship stuff/j

"nikolaiiiii" you whine from your bed eyes too teary to reach out wherever he is.

"Ah, my dove, I am coming right now" he shouts from outside of your room running in with a packed box of soup.

Unfortunately because of nikolais amazing cooking skills he failed to make a simple cup of soup. So he decided to order from takeout.And that soup is the food you need to eat right now.

"feed me please..." you state when he placed the bowl of soup and sat down next to you."Dove i think you can feed yous-" you only sniffed and looked at him with teary eyes which instantly made a certain feeling of guilt rise up in his stomach.

"fine then. Guess I will have to take care of my lovely crybaby girlfriend!" nikolai jokes before using taking off his gloves using his teeth and putting them aside, which you always considered a very handsome and hot thing for him to do.

His bare hands pick up the spoon full of soup and vegetables and gently slides it into you mouth, as fragile like a glass doll.

"Also I am not a crybaby! It was an act for you to feed me" you puff to which gogol gasps a bit too dramatically "you pesky silly! Come here daddy's going to punish you kittem" he jokingly says putting the bowl of soup on the bed side.

"HELP nikolai that is not funny! Stop THAT IS NOT FUNNY AT ALL. I am sick!!" you cry out getting out of his way which fails as he lunges towards you and holds you in his grasp

"I was joking! Calm down (name) I just want to hug your germs away." "Those germs will hug you back but okay!"

You sneakily crept up to the fridge before opening it, looking for a tub of icecream before finding it instantly. You reach out to grab it but before your hand can get any closer a hand slams the door shut.

You don't turn around to the figure behind you and swallow a spit, scared of the man's creepy and menacing smile from behind you.

"Now now, isn't my dear supposed to be in bed resting? So I wonder who this woman here is" his sarcastic voice rings in your ears as you slowly turn around.

"Fedya hahaha what are you doing here ahaha aren't you supposed to work?" you nervosuly laugh before you start coughing again, more ferocious this time.

His cruel and irritated shade hovering his eyes become more soft and tendor as he picked you up over his shoulders like a pack of potatoes and carried you to the bedroom.

"Fyodor? Since when did you become s-augh augh strong-?" you asked clearly shocked at his sudden romantic move.

"Say that again I am giving medieval style treatment." "WH- wait how do you know medieval tre--"

Before you could finish your sentence, he throws you on the bed in the gentlest way before sitting down next to you and grabbing a medicine.

"please tell me it's not those swallow pills. I hate them like you everyone in Yokohama hates you" you pout but he only glares at you for a second.

"I mean- I love you hahaha, you know" you laugh it off and look at his nail bitten fingers elegantly take the spoon of the liquid and holds it up to you lips.

"ew that looks like pink vomit" you get away from the spoon infront of you. "(name) I didn't ditch my work for this, it feels like I am taking care of a child rather then my significant other."

"you do know you will counted as a pedophile if i am a child right" you teas him, grinning trying to make him forget about the medicine.

"(name)" his voice is colder than your cold and you only look at him with puppy glistening eyes. "can.. can you feed me with you mouth? a sickly kiss?" you ask innocently.

"you are already sick fedya, please?" he only sighs at your statement, knowing it's stupid and silly to argue with you.

He takes the medicine in his mouth and pulls you closer to push it in. It tastes bitter, but his lips make it sweet. It only lasts a moment but cures the starving feeling in your heart.

He pulls away as you swallow the liquid before tucking your self under the covers and giggling like a school girl.

"sigh,,,please don't eat anything cold, your sickness will only worsen. Take your pills daily and I will send some chocolates later, okay? Don't be too much of a hassle"

"Bellllaaaaaa, i got you your favourite food!" his voice soothes out like a lullaby to your ears as you rise up from your bed and rush towards him.

"zai-zai!" But before you could say anything your head starts spinning and everything seems dizzy.

He keeps the bag of food on the table before rushing to catch you. "WOAH bella, can't have you spinning to death now can we! You told me if you had to die you wanted to die with me! Together"

He says picking you up bridal style and laughing at the swirls in your eyes. "i am here feeling like I just hot down from some Rollercoaster and your here joking? I swear to god dazai this is why you can't pull hoes"

"why would you say that bella? You pull germs" he pouts like a child but was probably smirking inside at his cheeky remark.

"You little manwh-" "shhh lets eat soem chocolate cheesecake shall we?" he places you on the side of your bed and brings the packets of cakes and slowly lays it down infront of you.

You sick and tired looking eyes glow up. "I want the cheesecake!" you announce to him as dazai laughs before opening the packet and taking a spoonful of the desert before motioning you to open your mouth.

He feeds you it whole slowly, which you only giggle "i didnt new yuo weer so living, dezai" you mumble chewing on the contents.

"finish your food first bella, then you can compliment your amazing BOYFRIEND HAHAHA" he laughs before getting up to clear up the packets.

While he does that you snuggle up to your bed before coughing for a while. "come join me, love" you motion him which your boyfriend does as he lays himself next to you

"Oh my bella, I hope you get well soon I can't wait to kiss you and hug you and maybe even fall off the bridge with you!"

You moved away from the camera turning on the record button and started dancing to the choreography of 'detention' by melanie martinez which by the way you should actually check out.

However as you were swifting your movements according to the dance you heard a Click and ran to you bed, but you only had a second to choose a sleep position before yosano can come.

"(name) I am not that stupid." she opens the door to enter the room as she looks at your pretend sleeping position.

"You can just dance hystericaly while you have a bad cold and have iron cells lesser than than the literacy rate in japan" your girlfriends scolding hits you hard so you decided to get up, what's the point.

"As much as i wish i could see more of you dancing" she continues, "You need to get better for it, I dont want you fainting once again like yesterday.

"who knew you could joke" you whine out. Yosano takes a chair and takes a place beside you. "I am not that serious, love. Now let me check your fever."

She takes off her gloves and presses her hand on your forehead. "Hmm, you have long way to fully recover" her voice is much softer than when she was scolding you.

"huhhh, that's not fair...i dont want to be bedridden for soooo long :(" your eyes start looking teary again, nose red from the heavy coughing from when she was taking care of you last night.

she sighs, "awhh my baby, there there. This is why I told you to take the medicines. But you didn't listen did you" you look up to her eyes glossy like a child who needs to be cared.

She kisses your forehead before getting up.

"I wish I could kiss your cold away however it won't work like that instead I will cook you your favourite chicken soup for you okay?"

a/n: man i hate my hoarse throat aughhhh I want fedya to take care of me rn *cough cough*

Divider crds: @anitalenia go check her blog NOW

Tags: @little-miss-chaoss @terururuko @inojuuy @biscuits-tragic-diner

[lenreli]

steel-framed, concrete form [Dreamling Week Day 4 - Dirty]

[AO3] | [Dreamling Week '24 Masterpost]

Title from SHIV-R's Burning Chrome!

E, 2.8k. Dream visits his friend at his new job.

-

The automobile repair shop smells of gasoline and burning electricity, filling Dream’s head as he looks around for his precious friend. “Hob?” He calls, looking around at the various cars, a motorcycle suspended by bars, lifted off the ground as he walks around the area. 

“Here!” His friend calls and Dream halts, staring at the ground, considering that’s where the voice came from. Looking around, he eventually spots legs covered in oil-splattered jeans underneath a hideous bright yellow car. “Just a mo’,” Hob says, the sound of tinkering and metal and Dream blinks, tilting his head. 

“A mechanic,” he states, baffled as Hob continues his work, eventually sliding out from underneath the car and Dream freezes. Even with a screwdriver in his mouth, his bright smile is unmistakable, and Dream feels hot under collar, wondering if the shop was always this stuffy and he never noticed it, or if it’s because Hob is shirtless. 

And dirty, grime and oil all over his arms and neck, a streak of black going through the greys at his temple, even more on his hands as he gets out a dirty rag from his jean pocket to wipe them, taking the screwdriver from his mouth. “As much as I love the teaching and research, and I’ll definitely go back to it at some point,” Hob says as he gets up from the dolly holding him, Dream can only trail after him, a creature attracted to a magnetic north as Hob pulls on ratty black hoodie, “it’s good to do something with my hands after all this time.” 

“Of course,” he says. I know something you can use your hands on, he doesn’t say, the line popping up from somewhere deep in humanity’s consciousness ― and something he wants as Hob writes on a clipboard, presumably for the car he was just working on. Dream tries not to stare at the hair on Hob’s chest too obviously, listening as Hob talks about setting up his new life as they go outside, and Dream blinks at the lake view that greets them. “America?” 

Hob laughs and nods, getting out a cigarette and lighter, and Dream can feel nearby American birds and wildlife dreaming. “Think it’ll only be a few years, this one. Maybe go back to Europe somewhere,” Hob muses around his cigarette, shrugging. 

Dream nods, staring intently at the lake as Hob continues to smoke, the smell combined with oil making him feel ― something, as he tries to get a hold of himself, to not touch the dirty jeans, leading up to undoubtedly soft skin and splatters of oil through the hair in Hob’s happy trail. 

“Never realise how hot it is in there,” Hob grumbles and zips up his hoodie, and Dream snaps his eyes back to Hob’s face and he swallows, saliva pooling in his mouth without his say-so. 

“You are the only one working,” he points out, confused. 

“Slow week, so the other’s are mainly doing weird hours. Although, I may be the weird one, considering it is like seven in the morning.” Finishing his cigarette, he puts it out on the side of the shop, then puts it into a tiny bin inside as they walk back in. “That’s what they say about me, aside from referencing my Britishness.” 

“You are known for being odd,” he remarks after a while. Hob, getting a toolbox to bring to another car, this time a dark green ute, cracks up, laughter echoing.

“Wow. He’s got jokes today,” Hob says between giggles. “My oldest friend, telling me I’m odd, I’m struck,” he continues with a dramatic air and bright grin and Dream pushes down the smile he can feel forming. Even with Hob being shirtless, the hoodie makes it almost bearable and less like Dream’s going to lose his mind as Hob opens the hood of the ute. 

Hob starts to talk more about his history with cars and Dream listens, putting his hands in his pockets to resist reaching out as eventually, the heat apparently gets to Hob again, and he sheds his hoodie. Swallowing, Dream puts his hands in coat pockets, lest he reach out to touch the sweaty biceps, or the shoulders as they work on the car. 

And Hob keeps asking him for items, thankfully distracting him so the subconscious can tell him what specific type of screwdriver to give Hob. Instead of ― speaking in innuendos involving screwdrivers, or wanting Hob to stop, gripping his thighs and kneeling, tasting the sweat and oil on the other’s belt― 

Not that he would say those banal innuendos, but they stick under his tongue anyway, ready to be let out, so he swallows them down, breath leaving him as Hob stretches, arms going above his head as he leans side to side. Dream averts his eyes to Hob’s knee, the jeans ripped up over it as Hob goes over to another car, tinkering with it. 

There’s vague sounds of welcome and laughter, two of Hob’s co-workers coming in, since they also begin to work on cars, talking about their night’s and how another one of them has reception duty today. Hob talks with them, expression confused as they look over at him, but Dream keeps unnoticed by them, which Hob doesn’t comment on. 

So far, Matthew hasn’t come in, panicking or calling for anything urgent, so Dream stays, fascinated with seeing Hob talk and share inside jokes with his co-workers, their casual touching make him itch under his skin. Hob’s occasional glances at him as they work on cars, the garage doors opening to let more cars in, people milling about outside. 

Enough time passes that Hob goes for his lunch break, Dream follows along silently as he wonders where the time went as Hob gets out something from the fridge ― a salad which he takes to his office, Hob putting his feet under him as he sits on the ratty leather sofa. “Not bored yet?” Hob asks in between bites. 

Dream stands near the sofa, hands still firmly in his pockets, “it is fascinating, compared to your other job I’ve seen you at,” he says, looking out of the window to see a car being levied onto the metal bars, lifting it up so they could work on it. 

Hob laughs, “I bet. More than just books or essays to grade. Though you know everything about mechanics, of course, being all,” Hob gestures at him, “like which of these bastards keeps stealing my Reese’s.” Dream opens his mouth to answer, but is stopped by Hob holding up a finger, “I don’t want to know actually. I’ll find out on my own.” 

“Incorrigible man,” he mutters and Hob laughs once more, most of his salad already inhaled. 

“Pot calling the kettle black a bit,” Hob says between mouthfuls of food as he sits up to lean on the sofa, joining him in watching the garage work. Salad now gone, Hob gets up with a groan, and Dream watches as the container gets stowed into a small bag. Hob gives him a look, dark and piercing and Dream stills ― not that he was moving, expecting something out of a stare like that, but all Hob does is leave the room. 

Dream follows. And he tries to not stare so blatantly at the small of Hob’s back, a thumbprint of oil on his side ― and even as the other mechanics won’t notice him, he still feels obvious as he follows Hob to an area in the large garage without any cars in the vicinity. 

The quiet corner feels private as Hob sighs, crossing his arms and Dream’s sight is redirected to the hairy chest in front of him. “Dream,” the tone, almost afraid, makes him look up as Hob huffs, “if I do something stupid right now, would you leave?” 

“No,” he answers, confused with how serious Hob is. 

“Promise?” Hob steps closer, “on the Dreaming? That even if you hate it, or curse me or whatever, you won’t leave?” Hob continues ― and puts his pinky finger in the air and Dream blinks.

“I promise,” he confirms, joining his own pinky with Hob’s, noticing the oil he can feel on it― 

So focused on the smear of oil he can feel, it takes him a few seconds to realise that’s Hob leant forward, lips pressed against his, pinkies still joined between them― 

And it’s only as Hob’s mouth leaves, does the warmth of him creep in, and he reaches out with his free hand, stopping him from getting even further away as he kisses back. There’s a sigh against his lips, Hob’s other hand grabbing onto his coat collar as they kiss, tentative and new. 

The kiss ends, but Hob stays close, laughing quietly between them, “thank fuck for that,” Hob says, and Dream marvels at almost feeling another quiet laugh, Hob’s eyes crinkling. “I was pretty sure, but y’know, fear that you’d run out on me again,” he says softly and Dream’s eyes widen. 

“I am sorry,” he frowns, “had I known―” 

He’s interrupted with another kiss, Hob letting go of his pinky to scrape a hand through his hair and he shivers, the touch hot, gasping as his hand between them touches the other’s chest, the hair coarse and slick from oil and Dream moans, arousal coiling tightly and Hob laughs into his mouth. “Later.” 

Unwillingly, his face heats up, unwilling to let go of Hob’s chest hair and the way Hob stares at him ― like he expected it. “I was that obvious,” he starts to frown, though Hob doesn’t let it sit before he’s being kissed again as he’s tugged even closer, can feel the heat warmth and smell sweat and oil, filling his senses. 

“A bit, yeah,” Hob grins into their kiss, and an embarrassing sound gets pulled out of him as the hand on his cloak trails up to cup his cheek. “Thank you for whatever it is that lets us do this without getting jeering from my coworkers,” Hob says between more kisses, and Dream breathes, clutching tightly onto Hob’s chest, the warmth of the other man overwhelming. 

Dream has honestly forgotten that others were around, and he drags Hob into a deeper, filthier kiss, shivering at the way a hand clutches his waist, fingers pushing up and under his shirt. “I want,” he doesn’t finish, too busy biting down Hob’s neck, enjoying the taste of sweat and the scratch of stubble along his tongue. 

“Have a pretty good idea of what you want,” Hob breathes, and Dream whines at the way a hand in his hair tugs him up so they can kiss. The hand under his shirt goes up his back, and he can feel the oil on his skin ― and there’s a prickle at his awareness, a passing daydream of a silver car―

“Like that?” He asks as he pulls the car out of the daydream and Hob freezes, eyes going wide at seeing the car ― another bit of perception to filter away as Hob gapes at it. “Why this one?”

Hob blinks, brown eyes wide and then Dream finds himself pushed against it, both of Hob’s hands going under his shirt as they share a frenzied kiss, the car cool against his back. “I had it in the ‘80’s,” Hob replies, opening up the back door and pushing Dream onto the backseat, and Hob’s eyes get darker as they stare at him. “Though often about just,” Hob leans over him, making Dream swallow as a finger tugs at his jeans. “Can I?” 

Hob’s head is filled with old daydreams ― of him and this car, fantasies of skin and sweat and blinding pleasure―”please,” Dream chokes, leaning up to kiss Hob, hands going to pat his chest, going down to take off Hob’s belt, skin hot under pants as they moan, as Hob’s nails scratch up his skin. 

His head hits the car door, too focused on the ways they’re joined, touching and kissing, the feeling of callused fingers flicking his nipples making him whine and arch up, disappearing his coat and shirt with a thought. Hob lets out a sound, fingers digging into his skin, “so beautiful,” Hob says, voice strangled as he looks down, and Dream has a split second of seeing oil on his chest before Hob goes for his jaw, biting down to his throat. “Fuck, please, let me.” 

“Anything,” he moans, grabbing onto one of Hob’s hands, feeling the calluses on his palms as he sucks a pointer finger into his mouth, acrid oil and hot sweat as Hob shakes above him, teeth scraping his neck as Hob looks up with wide eyes as Dream sucks the other fingers clean, tongue laving the other’s palm. 

Hob lets out another strangled whine and takes back his hand, Hob grinding onto him, hard cock against his thigh. Looking past the other man, he can see the windows are black and opaque, no glass in sight as he works on pulling Hob’s pants off, with Hob laughing as they kiss messily, Hob moving against him to tug his boots off. 

The lower half of Dream’s clothes vanish, only the sound of skin and moaning as Hob puts a finger inside, making him keen at the pressure, Hob’s other hand digging into his stomach, leaving oil as Hob starts to speak, praise falling from his lips easily.

“There is no need to prepare,” he stresses as Hob adds another finger, twisting them and Dream shudders and leans forward to bite at the edge of Hob’s beard. 

“Getting that, but I want to,” Hob chuckles and Dream tries to scold him, though the words become a whine as Hob presses against his prostate as he’s stretched open. “Thinking I probably don’t need a condom either, which is lucky, considering I’m not in the habit of taking those to work,” Hob continues and Dream cries out, hands scrabbling up to the other’s shoulders. 

“Hob,” he aches, wants even more, and there’s an embarrassing sound as the fingers leave, then returns with four ― brushing persistently against that nerve and his cock twitches. “Stop, now,” he tries to order, the words coming out broken and pleading. 

“Impatient, huh,” Hob grins, brown eyes sparkling as the fingers twist and press into him even more, making him shiver, Hob’s other hand eventually digging into his hip to keep him still. 

“Very,” Dream growls and Hob seems to get even more gleeful, fingers crooking inside―then suddenly leaving him empty. Opening his eyes, he glares at the other man. 

Hob pants and soon enough something bigger presses against him, and Dream bites back at a cry at the feeling, the other man slowly filling him. There’s a strangled whine from Hob, who stops for a moment and kisses him roughly―and he gasps as the other’s cock is slammed in. “Dream,” Hob whispers, forehead resting against his as they breathe each other’s air. 

Dream tries to hold onto every emotion, every sensation as Hob fucks him, but he can only manage snapshots. The tang of sweat on his tongue as he licks up the other’s shoulder, up to his neck, the pleasure burning through him like a wildfire, Hob’s cracked pleas of his name, of how good you feel― 

And then coming, Hob first, him following at the way the flood fills him, frenzied pleasure becoming something more soft and bearable as they share lazy kisses. 

Hob sighs, and Dream keens as Hob leaves him, “I know. But, I’m still on the clock,” Hob says softly, kisses just as delicate and Dream pouts ― and gets a soft black towel from a swimmer’s dreams, which Hob uses to clean them up. Hob pulls him out of the car, still close enough for them to kiss even more, and Dream relaxes against the car as Hob puts on his jeans and boots, oil now more smeared over him than before. 

“Should I leave?” He asks, fearing the answer as his clothes appear on himself, Hob blinking before putting hands on his waist. 

“Definitely not. Just let me complete my shift, then we can get out of here,” Hob says between kisses and Dream sighs as Hob nips up to his ear. “The car may have to go wherever it was before, but that’s it. And. Well. The whole perception for me, obviously.” 

Dream frowns and the car vanishes, so grabs onto Hob’s jaw, stubble pleasant under his hands. “Fine. I will do the arduous task of watching you work more,” he says solemnly, making Hob do a crinkly-eyed smile. 

“Oh yes. So terrible. Not at all like you didn’t want to jump me the entire time.” 

Dream scoffs and twirls a strand of brown hair over a finger, eyeing the streaks of black oil over the greys at Hob’s temple, “I do not jump.”

[Fin]

[tired-fandom-ndn]

I love obsessed oisin but I can't help but imagine quieter but equally obsessed adaine, pouring over ancient and probably cursed books looking for forbidden rituals to make oisin a full dragon or forcing him to adventure until he's a high enough level to get true polymorph to be a full dragon so that he can live as long as possible with her. seeing her grandma kissing the skull of the dragon she loved the most and imagining she won't even get a tenth of the time they had together before she's doing the same with oisin, unless she takes matters into her own hands

Anon, I ADORE this.

I love obsessive and creepy Oisin with Adaine being into it, but Adaine also being obsessive and creepy in her own way? Perfect, amazing, they're a match made in hell.

She's so much subtler about it than Oisin is, but she grew up with the awareness that nothing in the world belonged to her and then, later, that she would outlive the people she loved so she clings to everything she has with the desperation of someone who knows how easily it can all be taken away. I think, in this scenario, Adaine would've already been looking into how to extend lifespans, part of her desperately hoping that she cold crack that kind of magic and convince her friends to stay by her side.

Reconnecting with Aelwyn lessened that desperation a bit, with the assurance that she won't be completely alone as the centuries pass, but she would stil absolutely jump at the chance if any of her friends showed even the slightest bit on interest in that. With Oisin though. . . . . .

Adaine knows he's the one, the person she wants to be with forever. She spent much of her childhood listening to her grandmother wax poetry about her late wife and Adaine feels echoes of the things her grandma talked about in her relationship with Oisin, that sort of intense and burning love that makes everything else fall away. In her visions of her future, he's the one with her, the father of her children, her soulmate. And she also sees him grow old, scales getting rougher and duller while she stays young, and she knows that they'll only have a few decades together before she's alone again.

Decades. 50, maybe 60 years at the most. Adaine thinks about the thousands of years she has ahead of her and the idea of him being just a brief moment in her life is. . . devastating.

Instead of just accepting that that's her lot in life, Adaine does what she does best and starts researching. She looks into every possible way of expanding lifespans that she can think of, chasing even the tiniest lead, unearthing ancient manuscripts to pore over and looking into both "acceptable" magics and the most taboo spells possible. Deals with demons, blood sacrifices, whatever, there's no line she won't cross if it keeps Oisin by her side.

Most of her leads ended up being dead ends or methods that had to be taken off the table for one reason or another, either because they wouldn't work like she needed or because the risks were too high (like a lich ritual). Something like him changing into a true dragon would definitely be an option, but I think Adaine would only consider it if there was a way for him to be able to switch forms. She loves Oisin, loves the way she fits in his arms and loves being able hold his hand and even loves his dorky glasses. She doesn't want to completely change him.

For this AU though, since you brought up Grandma Abernant, I think she'd have her whole family's thousands of years of research into this exact topic at her disposal, her grandma more than happy to help Adaine's quest and getting the best magic users in their family on board. The fact that many of them have mortal loved ones means that pretty much everyone is eager to help.

Adaine would do her best to hide all this from Oisin, because she (ironically) doesn't want to freak him out or scare him away. Joke's on her though, once he finds out (by finding her notes in her tower or seeing correspondence from one of the other wizards she's working with or even when she breaks down after a particularly rough night and tells him everything), Oisin is fucking THRILLED and puts 110% behind helping her. He'd always known that their time together was limited by his own lifespan and though he always wants her to be happy, the idea of leaving her widowed and then her finding love with someone else is enough to make him spit lightning and rage worse than when he had the shatter-star; knowing that she wants him just as much as he wants her is a weight off his shoulders. Even becoming a full dragon is on the table as far as he's concerned, though obviously he'd prefer something a bit less. . . incompatible with Adaine's own body.

With the two of them, and their many contacts and their families' wealth and hoards of knowledge, they'll figure it out eventually :)

[lavouredior]

Together At Last

bunny!reader x vox, if you had seen my poll from earlier, turning this pair into a story rather than a bunch of random requests had won !! all my requests will be added into this but in a order that makes more sense for the pair to be understood better !!

prologue

“fuck” you thought as you saw a group of sinners running towards you. you didn’t know what they wanted from you. all you knew was that they were after you and you needed to figure out what to do and quick.

although you didn’t really have time to think, especially when you ran head first into someone. you ended up falling right onto the ground, the tears that had been welling up in your eyes starting to fall.

the man you had ran into had just stared at you briefly before offering you a hand up, causing the sinners who had been chasing you to scatter off.

he just stared into your eyes for a moment, they were tear ridden and he felt bad about letting you get upset, even though he didn’t even know you.

he sighed, “do you need a job? i’m in need of a new assistant and it’ll make sure those sinners don’t come after you again.” you immediately nodded, your bunny ears flopping up and down.

working for the man you later found out is named vox wasn’t easy, he had a ton of protocols you had to learn, you had to get PR trained in case someone tried talking to you to learn about vox’s business to try and ruin it, a lot of things that were honestly overwhelming.

“bunny!” you heard the name vox gave you and immediately went running to his office. “yes sir?” he shook his head “we’ve talked about the formalities. you can just call me vox. anyways, i wanna make a deal with you.”

you paused, staring at him confused. “you want my soul? but why?” but he just shook his head. “bunny, we both know you need protection and we both know i’m not gonna let you out of my sight to make sure you don’t get hurt. so, you give me your soul. i give you protection, including housing, food, anything you need.” he smiled before holding his hand out for you to shake.

you made the deal and that’s why you’re at where you are now. although things with vox were tricky, one second he made you think he liked you the next he made you think he hated you more than anything.

back when you were his assistant you’d given him head a couple times, something that was mostly your idea as you tried to make your job last as you were horrible at it and definitely making things harder for the man.

but what was much harder was trying to figure out what you and him even were, a lot of the time he’d visit you in your bedroom, although maybe it was to make it seem less like a jail cell considering all that was in there was a bed. you didn’t have many things and you felt bad asking for money. so you just lived how you could.

although that was until you woke up one morning to being in another room. “good morning bunny.” you looked up confused to see vox standing in the room. “vox? what am i doing here?” he smiled before sitting down next to you. “well your old room is now being turned into a closet for velvette and i thought you’d like it a lot more here, considering you’re in love with me.” you just looked up at him confused, sure you had feelings for him but you wouldn’t consider it love, not yet. “i’m joking, bunny. but i am asking you to be my girlfriend.” which of course you said yes to.

[gynandromorph]

the script is... drafted. i've been editing and revising as well; over half of it is a "draft 1.5" version that's more acceptable for other people to see... 48/~78. i wasn't so successful at killing my darlings or shortening the script. in my second draft, i will use more highlights for myself, to highlight what exactly i know TECHNICALLY is not necessary (such as beat panels), including entire scenes that i should perhaps elect to draw later. tangentially, i'm considering not drawing this comic chronologically, in order to "hide" style drift/art evolution (TM). i will still try to draw less "exciting" scenes first. i don't know how that will shake out with the patreon situation. perhaps totally randomly selected chapters posted out of order will make an audience less likely to give feedback that would compel me to change the story. the commentary would consequently focus more on the development process than the story or writing. before all of that, though... i still need to settle on a size for the book. i am going to draw a test page, possibly of a scene randomly chosen by a number generator, then resize it for some dimensions i've been considering. i'll be using real writing for it so that i can see what the actual story will look like in those dimensions, not just a random one-off joke page. so far, 9x7 or 10x7 seems desirable, just from holding various comic books in my hands. i've been preoccupied with the size of the text, even though books i considered far too small (blankets, nofna comics) i had absolutely no issue reading, and it never even crossed my mind that they were "small." the only other benefit to significantly larger pages would be fitting more panels into one page, which would at least soften the blow wrt page count. at the end of the day, i cannot even start to thumbnail without knowing what page dimensions i intend to work with. i will deal with it after i finish the preliminary editing.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Draco malfoy headcannons

flavor: fluffy and smutish but they're separated so you won't get jump scared

Also I'm returning to my roots with this stinky mf okay I have writers block

Sfw

Liked you in the hallway crush type of way yk like when there’s that one person in the halls that you're like “god damn, anyways where’s my next class”

Never even tried to speak to you was just like ” I'll gaze from afar”

The only problem is that he has major resting bitch face so you were sat there racking your brain over what you could’ve possibly done to this random daddy’s money kid (like this isn't set in a private school but LOOK OVER THERE)

Confessed by just standing in front of you and 👁👁 before handing you an outdated birthday card with a 100 dollar bill inside with a note inside that was basically just him like “PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLE-“

You did give him a shot and he did actually speak words to you

bitchest bitch ever yall bicker (lovingly of course) 24/7

“did you for real just copy off of me?” “Okay well at least I don’t have daddy issues” “You cannot be talking and you know it”

He gives stick bug vibes yk

does not comprehend normal human life you could be complaining about doing laundry and he is like “Just have one of the elves do it?” and you are like “😶right so-“

just assume you have the answer to everything bc like you’re his partner? tf?

“how far away is Saturn in kilometers?” “They don't measure distance with kilometers, Draco, you dumbass. It’s called lightyears.” ‘right so in lightyears then?” “How tf am I supposed to know?”

he’ll hear a crash and look to you like you know what’s going on and you’ll turn his head back

I'm not one to assume someone’s sexuality but it's very much bisexual for the both of you (he likes guys and you know it)

a hot guy will pass and you both turn to each other like {insert Bratz meme here}

has created mustard gas on accident

laughs at his own jokes unironically (he is the only one laughing)

will try to be relatable and it's just like “yk that moment when your Prada shoes get gourmet chocolate on them”

makes up new names for your stuffed animals bc he thinks all the ones you picked were “lame”

his beauty sleep comes above everything else

Once Theo woke him up (there was a fire they had to evacuate) and the next night you found him hovering a pillow over Theo’s face you tackled him to the ground

Only knows how to play dominoes no card games or anything only dominoes

Bought you guys matching sleep masks

And embroidered PJs

And bunny slippers

PDA hater

He’ll sit next to you at max when you're around lots of people when you're just around his friends he's down with hugs and hand-holding holding maybe a cheek kiss but that's it

Alone is a different story he's attached to you he's actively trying to crawl under your skin as we speak

Terrified of bugs he's standing on a chair and screaming the second he sees one

Pays you in kisses when you take the bug outside (after you wash your hands)

Prefers baths over showers

Hates dogs and growls at them more than they growl at him

Only likes cats in theory bc they leave hair on his clothes

He's a reptile man

has owned a bearded dragon and will own more

Cold mf you wanna look me in the eye and tell me he has good circulation

Presses his cold ass feet against you while you're on the brink of sleep so confused when you swing your hand back to smack him

“I'm just cuddling you?”

“Cuddle somebody else fucking ice cube bitch ass”

Every single night

He sleeps on his back with his hands on his stomach like he's going to get lowered into his casket it's embarrassing

Thinks he knows how to shake ass and then when he tries (and fails) he considers never speaking to anyone ever again

Has gotten flirted with while he was with you and he just stared at them blankly bc he couldn't tell if it was happening

And then he left the room entirely

Walks in on people butt ass naked bc he has not learned how to knock (only child syndrome)

Stares a lot

He has nothing better to do so he’ll just come join you in your dorm and 👁hi👁

You've learned to block him out so he’ll scare the shit out of you

Sure he doesn't know how to flirt but he has money so he makes up for it

If you look at anything longer than three seconds he's following behind you with his card and the other twelve bags you have

This does have you ending up with things you didn't want so your friends love your random gifts

One of them will walk into potions with a luxury purse and one of the other kids will be like “tf Did you get that?” and your friends are like “🫵” And you're like “I didn't want it” So some of the student body does hate your guts just a little

favorite food is plain white rice

Thinks that acrylic nails go under the skin yk like in those videos with the fake hands pushing the nails up the finger yeah he thinks that actually happens to people

Jaw on the floor when you explain to him that's not what happens

Nsfw kinda

Down to three-way and will NOT let you forget

“I met this cute girl at the-” “I'm down. 😐”

“Oh did you see Harry this morning he was-” “Do you think he'd hook up with us?😐” “Babe. We've talked about this” “just once please”

Has asked you to peg him

unless you have a dick then he's asking for one of those two-way things (you're on my blog you know what I'm talking about dude)

Sub SUCK MY DICK DUDE HES A SUB SHUT UP

Actively begging sobbing on his knees “Please baby Please being so good please”

Would be a swinger and he'd have a pineapple on his front porch

Sorry

Has dabbled in the lockerrooms

Will ask you if the boys can watch him hit and you said only if they see him at his lowest begging and pleading for you he is silent as of now (give him two weeks)

Type of bitch to be covered in hickeys and when someone is like “What happened? To your neck?” and he's like “Literally what are you talking about?” will gaslight them into thinking there's nothing on his neck

Prefers cuddling naked but hates not immediately being in the bath after sex so he has to battle himself in his head

Can't dirty talk he's like “You look so nice when you're not in clothes? Do you like my wee wee?” and you're sitting there “bitch your what?”

Have resulted in him not being allowed to talk

Quickies number one hater

Needs his time to get into pussybitchboy mode

Okay bye

[mars-ipan]

man. strangers you don’t know but have heard stories about are wild

[elexaria]

dating simon riley wasn’t always easy. “i’m a bloody nutcase, eh?” he’d joke when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, taking deep breaths as his calloused thumb rasps against the soft cotton bedsheets, grounding him back to reality. “puts all my efforts to shame when i wake up like this. fuck’s sake.”

therapy is mandatory, especially given his role as lieutenant. the traumas of childhood, the torture. he thinks he’s good at dealing with his problems, thinks therapy is a waste of time. “what, it’s just a bloke sat there starin’ at me? hell, get me a piece of paper with some made up degree on it and even i could be a therapist.” he grumbles after you point out that, in fact, he’s not as good as coping with his trauma as he thinks he is.

“you need to actually give this a go, si. it’s..” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you make breakfast. his hair is disheveled, wry strands of grey sticking up against the grain. his dark circles only exemplify just how tired he is, especially when he has his night terrors. you shake your head, sighing as you crack another egg into the frying pan. “how can i expect you to stay safe out there when you’re barely able to look after yourself when you’re home?” you sigh out as he grunts, taking a seat at the small dining table, his eyes skimming through the morning paper.

god, he’s such a stubborn bastard. it takes months to get him to at least consider finding a new therapist, to get him to actually care about his mental health. christ, if he can’t do it for himself, can’t he at least try for your sake?

and then, it’s like he has a lightbulb moment. you come home after a long day at work, only to find him sat at the dining table, writing scruffy notes in a ring bound notebook. “mission notes?” you ask curiously, keeping your eye on him as you make yourself a cup of tea. he grunts, shaking his head as he continues to write.

“it’s a diary. supposed to help with your mental health or summet.” he replies, settling his pen down to meet your gaze. you must have had a look of confusion on your face, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a half-smile. “yeah, i know. a bloke like me with a diary, like i’m a bloody teenage girl.” he quips, now grinning as his fingers toy with the corners of the notebook. “writin’ about all the boys i fancy on the field.” he shoots a wink, before continuing to write some more in his notebook.

it’s actually surprising, a smile on your lips as you watch him in his own little world, actually making an effort in his mental health recovery. you come over, settling a warm cup of tea by him before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, still smiling as you make your way upstairs to give him some privacy. he comes upstairs after half an hour, chucking the diary into his bedside table drawer before sprawling out onto the bed obnoxiously with a deafening groan. you whine and complain when he purposely stretches on you, gently crushing you with his bolder-esque shoulders with a massive grin on his face.

there were still bad days, though. days where he’d hide himself in the garage to work on some of his projects. but you’re both trying, he feels his heart break when you gently knock on the door, holding a plate of snacks and a cup of tea for him, and fuck, it makes his bad day slightly better.

that evening, he curls up besides you silently on the couch, his journal and pen in hand as he clears his throat. you curiously peer down as he begins to flick through the pages of chicken scratch, gently tapping the page as he looks up at you. he clears his throat, and begins to read out the sweetest paragraph, one that makes your eyes well up with tears.

“no idea where i would be without you, love. you make the darkest days of my life brighter than ever. you make life worth it.” he ends his speech , the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion as he looks at you. and right there, you know that through all the trials and tribulations you two will go through, you’re the love of simon riley’s life and he would never let you forget that.

[pucksandpower]

My Brother’s Father

Charles Leclerc x Piastri!Reader

Summary: apparently you’re dating your brother’s father and Charles is dating his son’s sister … what a mess!

You toss another shirt into the open suitcase on the bed, humming to yourself as you go through the closet. Charles will be home from training any minute and you want to have your little prank all set up before he arrives.

The front door opens and closes, followed by the familiar sound of Charles’ keys hitting the bowl by the entrance. “Mon amour? You home?” He calls out.

“In here!” You respond, stifling a grin. You pick up the pace, grabbing handfuls of clothing and dropping them haphazardly into the suitcase.

He rushes down the hallway, ready to convince you to join him for a shower. But when he reaches the bedroom door, his heart sinks.

“What … what are you doing?” He asks, horrified.

You glance up, your face the picture of innocence. “Oh, hello darling! I was just packing a few things.”

“Packing? For what? Are you … are you leaving me?” The words crack in his throat.

You sigh theatrically, shaking your head. “I’m afraid I have to, Charles. I can’t be with you anymore.”

“What? Why?” He staggers forward, feeling like he’s been kicked in the gut. “Did I do something wrong? Whatever it is, I’m sorry! We can fix it!”

Shooting him a mischievous look, you bite your lip. “It’s because of Oscar.”

Charles freezes. “Your brother? What does he have to do with us?”

“Well, think about it ...” You abandon the suitcase, sauntering over and trailing a fingertip down his chest. “When you adopted him, that made you his father. Ergo … you’re my brother’s father now.”

Charles gapes at you, completely lost. “I … what? That’s not how it works! I was just joking on Twitter-”

“So you’re saying you don’t see Oscar as your son?” You arch an eyebrow accusingly.

“Well, no, I don’t actually-”

You shake your head, clucking your tongue. “Shameful, Charles. Denying your own child like that.”

“But he’s not really-”

“Poor Oscar,” you lament, throwing a hand against your forehead dramatically. “Rejected by his own father! No wonder he’s been texting me constantly, sobbing about what an awful dad you are.”

Charles scrambles to catch up. “Oscar has not been … we’re not actually related, Y/N!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” You back away, hands on your hips. “But the fact is, I can’t date my own brother’s father. It’s just … wrong. Morally corrupt.”

“You’re being completely ridiculous!” Charles throws his hands up.

Whirling on him, you jab a finger into his chest. “So you’re calling your son a liar now too? How dare you!”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, at a total loss. You stare at him expectantly, arms folded.

Finally, Charles decides to change tactics. “Fine, okay, let’s say all that is true. For the sake of argument. That still doesn’t mean we have to break up!”

You blink at him innocently. “It doesn’t?”

“No!” He grabs your hands, holding them tightly. “Mon cœur, I love you. We can make this work.”

Pursing your lips, you pretend to consider it. “I don’t know … having a romantic relationship with my brother’s father? It just feels so sordid and taboo.”

Charles groans, rolling his eyes. “You’re making no sense. This is all hypothetical!”

“Is it, though?” You wiggle your fingers free, tapping your chin. “The heart wants what it wants, Charles. And mine wants to avoid a salacious love affair with Oscar’s own dad.”

Throwing up his hands again, Charles growls in frustration. “This is completely insane! We were together before I ever ‘adopted’ Oscar as a joke on Twitter!”

“Were we?” You ask loftily. “Sometimes the lines get so blurred, don’t they? It’s hard to keep track of what came first.”

Charles stares at you wildly for a long beat. Then, abruptly, he lunges forward — sweeping you up into his arms as you squeal in surprise. You flail dramatically as he hauls you over to the bed, tossing you down onto the rumpled sheets with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Charles Leclerc, what do you think you’re … eep!” Your faux outrage melts into peals of laughter as he attacks your sides with wiggling fingers, mercilessly tickling you. “Stop, stop! I give up, I give up!”

But he’s relentless, pinning you to the mattress as his fingers dance expertly over your most ticklish spots. You thrash and giggle helplessly, tears of mirth springing to your eyes.

“Say you’re not breaking up with me!” He demands, grinning wickedly. “Say it, or I’ll never stop!”

“Never!” You gasp out, breathless with laughter. “I’ll never, hahaha, surrender!”

Lunging up, he captures your lips in a heated kiss, stealing your breath away. You melt against him with a contented hum, tangling your fingers in his soft hair as his hands roam over your body possessively. The teasing banter falls away, replaced by the familiar sparks of want and need that always seem to simmer between you.

When you finally break apart, you’re both flushed and panting. Charles gazes down at you with dark, molten eyes. “Are you done being ridiculous now?”

You try for an imperious look, but can’t quite hide the smirk tugging at your lips. “Well … I suppose I could be persuaded to overlook that our family tree is quickly turning into a wreath.”

“You’re impossible,” he mutters, dipping his head to trail scorching kisses along the exposed column of your throat.

Throwing your head back with a breathy sigh, you concede, “Fine, fine. I’m not actually breaking up with you, you lunatic.”

“Thank god.” He raises his head, his expression turning serious as he cups your cheek tenderly. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay? I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

You cover his hand with yours, turning to press a soft kiss against his palm. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to worry you so much. I was just having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t funny to me.” He tries to look stern, but you can see the fondness sparkling in his warm green eyes. “No more jokes about us splitting up. Or pretending I’m actually related to your brother. Deal?”

Tracing the beloved lines of his face, you murmur, “Deal. I promise to leave Oscar out of our sexy games from now on.”

Charles barks out a surprised laugh. “Our what now?”

You grin unrepentantly. “What? Like you’ve never fantasized about me calling you ‘daddy’ before?”

He flushes bright red, sputtering as you dissolve into giggles once more. Leaning down, he silences you with another heated kiss — and soon, all thoughts of Oscar and Twitter jokes are utterly forgotten.

[the-raindeer-king]

(A/N: prt 4 and the finale of the Mama Riley au! Thanks for all the support and nice comments. It means the world to me! No content warnings. Enjoy!!)

If the ground would swallow him whole, Simon would consider that a blessing. God, he never should've asked his mom about you. Of course she'd clock him. Who knows the man better than his own mom?

He stares blankly at you for far too long. Long enough that you're wondering if there was a chance Mama Riley had it all wrong. You open your mouth, ready to backtrack the statement, when Simon settles a hand on your thigh.

“I… yeah. It's true,” he answers you. He tells you it's fine if you don't feel the same. You were his mom's friend first, and he can see how deeply you care about her and vice versa. He wants his mom to be happy.

“What about what you want?” You ask, curious.

Simon's quiet for a moment, thinking. He wants to marry you, but that might be a bit much to admit right out the gate. So he gathers his nerves, and quietly admits, “I want to kiss you.”

You can't help but smile in response. You lean in a little closer to him, your eyes already half lidded. “I want you to kiss me,” you reply softly.

The kiss is a little awkward. It takes Simon a second to get comfortable in the kiss, but it's good once he does. (You find out later on that it's his second kiss.) His hands come to cradle your face, tipping your head back to deepen the kiss. That's when the kiss becomes perfect, the kind that makes your head spin.

You break away at the sound of the door opening. Simon's hands linger in your face for a moment longer, before he drops them back down to his sides. But you're quick to lace your fingers with his, more than eager to start displaying affection. You've been holding back for far too long.

Mama Riley smiles at the both of you, a coffee in hand. “You kids get your feelings worked out?” She teases.

You and Simon share a look, before responding simultaneously.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Yeah, Mum.”

Going to sleep that night is incredibly bittersweet. You two finally made progress, just barely started your relationship, and he's leaving in the morning. Simon has never hated his job more than now. He's waited, since the day y'all met, for this, and he doesn't feel like he even has a chance to enjoy it.

But it makes returning, two months later, all the more worth it. This isn't the first time you've gone with Mama Riley to pick him up, but this time is different. There's no fanfare, no balloons or signs, although you and Mama Riley had joked about it. But there is a new energy in the air, excitement to see your boyfriend.

He's easy to spot amongst the crowd, tall and imposing. But you see the way his shoulders sag with relief, when he spots you two. He greets his mom first, crushing her in a hug. There's some whispered words between the two of them, before Simon turns his attention to you.

He hesitates, before tugging his face mask down. “Can I kiss you?”

You can't help but giggle a little, nodding your head. His hands move to cradle your face, so gentle despite the horrors he's witnessed. And when your lips meet his, Simon decides there's no better way to welcome him home.

[fefern]

✧˖° first dates with them. | lingyang, m!rover, jiyan headcanons.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: going on a first date is always nerve wracking, yet can also be exciting! what's it like for these boys to take you out on your first date together?

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved (separate): lingyang, male rover, jiyan, and a gender neutral reader.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none!

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hello! coming to you live with my first post for wuwa! just some cute little headcanons with the boys on first dates with you because i love planning dates out ;;!! requests are open if you want to talk or have me write something!! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

Lingyang

Lingyang has never been more excited or nervous to hang out with someone, even more so since this was his first date with you. 

As someone who always seemed to fear being different from the humans around him, he felt extra self-conscious when he looked in the mirror and adjusted his outfit. Did he look alright? Were you going to enjoy this as much as he thought he would? Will everything go well? What if you decided you changed your mind and didn’t want to date someone of his species?

His first date gift for you would be a small lion plushie. Cute and fluffy with vibrant colors, he’d hold it out in front of him and shut his eyes tight, anxiety flowing through him. “These are for you! That way, when you miss me, you can hug this! If you want to, no pressure!” 

He’d be ecstatic when you took it into your hands and held it throughout your date together, happily looking between you and the plush and feeling his cheeks turn a rosy pink that you two were going out together. 

He’d probably take you to the best food spots all around Jinzhou, ranting about which dishes to try or who had his favorite foods. He’d want to get to know you more, curious and nervous as he’s asking you about your likes, dislikes, what your daily life is like in Jinzhou. Lingyang would walk and eat with you along the way, practically enamored by anything you did or said. 

His tail would swish fast back and forth whenever you were talking. Even if it’s something you found mundane, he couldn’t help but be happy just listening to you speak. His ears will also be very reactive around you, usually up but always reacting accordingly to whenever you’d tell a story or joke with him. 

He’ll let you pet him if you want to, he trusts you after all. His cheeks flush a soft pink and he lets out a small purr when you do so, finding himself growing a bit shyer at the sweet touch. He also feels a tad embarrassed by it, so you’ll have to pry his hands away as he childishly hides the way he’s turning red from you. 

He seems a little bit sad when you two do have to part, but when you ask him when the next one would be, a hopeful look emerges in his eyes as he begins to excitedly make plans to see you again and take you on another date. 

Other Points:  - Will jump in place when super excited to tell you something while on the date.  - Would point to some random cute things on your walk and go, “That reminds me of you!” - Happy to talk about lion dancing with you, and if you show more interest in it, he’ll offer to give you your own personal show one day!

Rover (Male)

Considering he is a person that just woke up in a strange world with no memories of his past or who he is, he is a bit lost on the idea of what to do during a date with you. Were there rules he had to follow? Did people in Jinzhou have certain taboos or ways that they executed dates?

He’d most likely ask all around the city in order to find out what to do or where to take you. He wanted to make sure the experience was good after all, not something that the both of you would dread. 

When he meets up with you, his hair is a bit more put together than usual and he stands up tall, giving you a small smile as he gently takes your arm and links it with his. 

“Take me around the city. Show me how you see the world through your eyes.”

His first date gift would be a small box of candy. I could definitely see Rover as being a person who likes small sweet treats as a guilty pleasure, and he’d want to share them with you as a way of connecting you with something that you love. 

He’s calm throughout most of your stroll, browsing through stores or looking around in quiet curiosity as you show him little nooks and crannies of the city. He enjoyed hearing how you would describe stores or fixate on different areas of the city that he hadn’t thought to really pay attention to before. 

He makes a mental note of the places that you like so that for your next date, you two could come back to them. Rover is already a few steps ahead in terms of thinking where he wants to go with you or what he wants to do. 

When you’re done showing him the city, he’ll give you a kind, endearing look and smile at you. He’ll take a moment to just admire you, shifting some of your hair out of your face and enjoy being in your presence before ultimately, it is time to part ways. He’ll wave you off, thanking you for everything and giving him a tour, before he smiles to himself like a fool and turns to head back to his quarters. 

Other Points: - Probably would be looking at you more than the city.  - Fast walker, so you’d have to keep up the pace. Apologies if he’s going too fast and happens to catch you struggling. - Will inquire about certain places just to listen to you talk. 

Jiyan

As the general of the Midnight Rangers that conducts himself in a poised, righteous manner, he’d be the most classy out of all the people to take you out on a date. 

Jiyan’s got a busy schedule as the head of such an important group in Jinzhou, but after bonding with you and asking you out he wanted to ensure that he carved out time in advance for just you and him to spend an afternoon together. 

He’d take you to a fancy restaurant in Jinzhou, the best money can buy. He’d be sure to pick you up from your place and walk with you to the restaurant. When you open the door, he’s standing in front of you with his hair slicked back and ponytail waving a bit in the wind, his clothes pristine and ironed out to look his absolute best in front of you. 

His present for you is a bouquet of flowers he made himself. He enlisted the help of his mom for this one, catching up with her about medical practices as he puts together the best pecok, irises, and poppies that he could find when he was out on his rounds into a pretty bouquet just for you. It’s wrapped up with brown paper and has a nice aqua bow on it, matching his hair.

When you get to the restaurant, he’ll look at the menu with you and ask you to order anything your heart desires. He already knows what he wants to eat, and will quietly look at you with a softened expression as you begin choosing what you want. He finds the way you handle yourself beautiful, even if it’s through simple things like ordering food. 

Jiyan will happily eat anything you don’t end up finishing. He doesn’t want to waste money, and he also cannot deny that the way you ask him to finish your plate was cute. He’ll work it off anyways with the amount of fighting and training he does, so he doesn’t mind. 

Will pay for the meal. No splitting or you paying, as much as you might plead and beg.

Will take you back to your place and entertain any questions you may have for him, whether it be about his past, missions he’s been on, or just about his duties as general of the Midnight Rangers. When he drops you off, he’d take the back of your hand and gently place a kiss on it before standing up straight and giving you a small smile, wishing you a goodnight. 

Other Points: - Will hold all your belongings so your hands are free and light. Does not matter how heavy or how much you have, he will refuse to let you “labor” like that, as he puts it.  - Admires your personality and the way you hold yourself when you speak. - Has a strong desire to protect you; always subconsciously keeping an eye out for any danger even though it’s daylight out.

[luveline]

BABE i miss badass bau!reader!!! do you feel up to write something about her and spencer? 🫣🫣

—Spencer comforts you, even when you think you don’t need it. fem, 1.2k

You’d think that agents and staff working for the Behavioural Analysis Unit would use a little subtlety when gossiping about their coworkers. It’s in the name. You’re a profiler, after all, but you wouldn’t need to be to know that the sudden quiet that falls over the kitchenette area when you walk in is for a reason. 

You’re determined to act unbothered. Only, it’s high school all over again, the whispering and the staring boring holes in the back of your head, and you’re thinking What are they saying about me? What have you done now? 

Flustered, you make a cup of herbal tea and forget it on the counter by the sink. Humiliated, you rush back to your desk. 

Spencer doesn’t look up as you sit. Your desks are together again for now, but who knows what whim will have Hotch separating you again. Last time it had been for ‘enabling bad behaviour’. 

So what if Spencer likes to talk? He’d only think all the things he’s saying to himself. You’re speeding up the process if anything by listening. Plus, whatever the others might think, he’s interesting, smart and funny and he deserves to be listened to when he wants to tell you things. 

“Hey,” you say, trying to push the humiliation brewing in your chest back to a quiet place. 

“Hey,” he says. He talks to you in a way he doesn’t with the others. He’s more relaxed, less exuberantly friendly and more like a true friend. 

He’s the only one in this whole office you’d ever want to sit next to every day. “Hi. What are you reading?” 

Spencer folds his novel closed over his hand, an answer on his lips that stutters and fades. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You look unhappy.” 

It’s that unfortunate moment that Morgan decides to arrive, a cup of coffee in one hand, a brown paper bag in the other. He shrugs out of his leather jacket, eyeing you both where you’ve stopped your conversation, the slight light of smugness to his eyes as he says, “Doesn’t she always?” 

“Around you, Morgan, yes,” you say, turning your body fully to your computer. “That would be accurate.” 

Morgan laughs heartily. “You love me.” 

Maybe. You certainly don’t like him. Or, you’re annoyed with him most of the time. You wonder occasionally if he and the rest of your teammates are emotionally blind, considering the way they treat Spencer. Everybody makes their funny ‘harmless’ jokes, you’ve never understood why. They’re profilers, aren’t they? Can’t they tell it hurts his feelings?  And they love to tell you that Spencer’s your soft spot, he is, but he’s also a nice boy who wants to be listened to above all else, so you’re a little bitter about it. You weren’t too sweet to begin with. 

Today, you aren’t in the mood. You ignore Morgan and open your emails. 

“You want tea?” Spencer asks, standing from his desk. 

“No.”

“You always have tea in the morning. I’ll make it. Sit tight.” 

You follow Spencer’s figure as he leaves. Morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you from across the divider. 

“Do you ever think about taking him out?” Morgan asks. 

“That’s an inappropriate question,” you say. You aren’t monotone, but you certainly don’t bustle with emotion either.

“You like him, he likes you.” 

That’s exactly what Spencer needs, you think bitterly, the moody girlfriend, another thing to make him an outsider.

“You make each other happy,” Morgan continues.

“You get the same blueberry muffin every day,” you say, clicking an email attachment Hotch sent this morning distractedly, the temptation to roll your eyes at an all time high, “will you marry the baker?” 

“I could. His wife might not like the idea.” 

You hold in a smile. You sort of maybe do love Morgan, even when he’s prying. Better when Spencer returns and Morgan asks about the younger man’s weekend trip to Quantico’s seven floor library. 

“It was awesome,” Spencer says, putting a mug down in front of your keyboard, his palm still warm from the mug taking temporary station on your shoulder. “There were more books about inmate crime than there were dictionaries. Is that okay?” 

You take a sip of your tea. “It’s perfect,” you confess once you’ve swallowed. How does he know how you like it? He must steep it just as you do. Even the water level. You’d think it were the tea you’d left behind if it wasn’t in a new mug, scalding hot. 

“Morgan, could you excuse us, please? For five minutes?” Spencer asks. 

Your eyes widen of their own accord. Morgan makes flirty winky faces to hide his concern and meanders up the steps to Hotch’s office, pointedly looking away from the bullpen and your mess of desks. 

“What’s going on?” you ask. 

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Spencer says. 

He’s wearing his glasses today, a rare sight these days, less so at the office when you’re sure there won’t be a case to go on. His hair curls at the base of his neck and flicks out under his ears, brown eyes like the flat of a mirror against the light, dark and deep. You wince when you realise you’ve been looking him over intensely, averting your eyes to the cup of tea warming your fingers. 

“You know you can tell me anything,” he says. 

“Sure.” 

“I’d defend you. Just like you would for me.” 

You drag your eyes to his. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“I mean, if you want me to go fight your corner, I will.” 

“Who says I need that?” 

“It’s Madge, right? The blonde woman with the pearl earrings. She and Andrea monopolise the kitchen in the morning and talk about all of us.” 

You hate profilers, but you could never hate Spencer. You can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he’s worked out what perturbed you so quickly. 

You cross your arms over your chest, leaning back in your desk chair slowly. “There’s no point arguing with them, babe, you’d end up at Human Resources by the end of the day forced to write an apology letter.” 

Spencer looks like he wants to touch you again, hand heistant, fingers moving as though he’s typing curled into his palm. “I’ll stick up for you if you want me to. I don’t care if they make me write a letter.” 

“Can’t argue over silence,” you say.

It’s a kind offer, and he really is so handsome. Everybody else in the office might drive you up the wall but he’s a sweetheart, through and through. 

“I like when you smile. Doesn’t happen much,” he murmurs. 

If it were anyone else, you’d tell them to fuck off. “Thank you, Spencer. I like your smile too.” 

He leans down for a hug. Again, if it were anyone else, you’d wriggle out of reach and give a speech on boundaries, but it’s him. He folds his arms behind your head and back, encouraging your face into the crook of his neck as he bends to meet you, gentle even when you don’t hug him back. “Don’t listen to anybody,” he says, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. 

“I don’t.” 

“Who cares if they’re talking about us?” Spencer asks. 

You touch his waist. “Not me.” 

[zorobff]

how to disappear. (opla!zoro x fem!reader)

synopsis: joining luffy’s crew made you believe that you’d finally escaped your former pirate crew and nightmare of a captain for good. that is, until a certain butler starts looking a little too familiar. good thing zoro’s keeping a close eye on you.

warnings: opla spoilers (ep 3), some direct dialogue from opla, mentions of verbal/physical abuse, kuro is just a weirdo tbh, reader is called a bitch, protective zoro, for the sake of the story sham and buchie joined the black cat pirates after reader left

word count: 4.7k

“this guy is full of shit.”

you knock your shoulder into zoro’s wider one. “be nice. and so what if he is?” 

zoro gives you a pointed glare. “then we should turn around and look for someone who can actually help us find a ship.” 

“all business, as per usual,” you reply, with a purposefully dramatic sigh. “why can’t you have a little fun?” 

“what about this is supposed to be fun?” zoro spits out the word like it’s poisonous. “this is the blandest village i’ve ever seen.”

you scoff. “now you’re the one that’s full of shit. nothing’s ever bland with us and you know it.” 

the us in question was your newly formed pirate crew… if you and luffy could even be considered that. having left the ship you’d been on a few years ago, you were in search of a new crew. luffy was persistent and charming — when you’d crossed paths in shells town, it took little to no time for him to convince you to join his hunt for the one piece. zoro and nami, on the other hand, had yet to follow in your footsteps. 

“well, considering that we’ve only been traveling together for a day and a half and i’ve already escaped a marine base, defeated a marine captain, and fought a clown with devil fruit powers… i’d actually have to agree.” 

you can’t help but giggle at his sarcastic delivery. “be grateful, zoro. not many pirate crews are this fun to be on, trust me. oh wait, that’s right, you still haven’t officially joined—”

“tell me about your old pirate crew,” interjects zoro, your comment having piqued his interest. 

you notice that the playful atmosphere dissipates. “god, where do i even start?” 

zoro answers that for you. “why did you leave?”

“starting with the hard hitting questions, huh?” you joke, mostly to stall. you clear your throat before you answer. “well, it was different. nothing like what luffy has going on. he actually cares about his crew… and even those who aren’t technically on it.” 

at that, a smile tugs at the corner of zoro’s lips. even you crack a small grin. although as you continue speaking, it fades. 

“on my old crew, we were dispensable. anytime something went wrong, our own captain would threaten to kill us. it was… scary, to be completely honest. there were so many times when i thought i’d die with that filthy crew. and i never wanted that. so as soon as we docked at shells town, i left.”  

zoro’s jaw clenches as imagines the things you’d seen and been subjected to. “this old captain of yours sounds like a real—”

“he was a nightmare,” you tell him. “he didn’t care that i was the only woman on board, he treated me just as horribly, if not worse.” 

zoro stops so suddenly that it takes you a second to realize he’s not walking alongside you.

“what do you mean by that.” the way zoro phrases the inquiry doesn’t even make it sound like a question. more like a demand. his narrowed eyes are fixed solely on you. holding his gaze feels… intense. 

you can’t help but glance away as you answer him. “he was just a bit of a creep.”

before zoro has the chance to try and extract more information out of you, a familiar voice calls both your names. you’re not really sure when you and zoro had fallen behind but from where you currently stand, the rest of your group looks miniature. or perhaps it’s just the massive size of the mansion behind them that makes luffy, nami, and usopp look pocket-sized in comparison. 

“why’d you stop walking?!” your captain shouts, hands pressed on each side of his mouth to amplify his voice. “get over here, we’re about to go in through the top secret entrance!” 

you vaguely make out usopp gesturing for luffy to keep his voice down. you’re sure that would warrant another comment from zoro about his reliability but he’s too busy staring at you with that expectant look in his eyes. 

“we better catch up,” you tell him, heading in the direction of the deluxe home. 

he allows you to dodge the subject and sighs, walking in long strides to catch up to you.  

“i’ve never seen a house this big before,” luffy admits, admiring the mansion along with the wellkept greenery surrounding it. 

“awesome, right?” usopp gloats, walking around like he owned the place. “kaya’s given me an open invitation to drop by anytime i want.” 

“wow.” you’re not sure if luffy was just going along with usopp’s act or if he really believed him. knowing the devil fruit user, it was more than likely the latter. “all this for just one person?”

“well, she lives here with her butler and a few other staff,” usopp replies, leaning against the stone well that sat in the middle of the lawn.

“money really shows you who people truly are,” nami mutters, eyes scanning the property. “most people only care about themselves and what’s theirs.”

zoro is quick to throw the insult back at her. “sounds like someone i know.”

you roll your eyes at his comment, though you make no effort to disagree with him. nami was a little on the materialistic side. 

“and a small staff makes for easy pickings,” she continues, proving your point.

“we just got here and you’re already planning on robbing the place blind?” you ask though you already know the answer.

“at least a little blurry,” she smirks, following behind luffy and usopp who walk toward the entrance. 

you and zoro share a look. one that says disappointed but not surprised. 

going under a shrub shaped as an arch, you’re met with a beautiful pond. you admire the pink lilies that float at the top and the bushes that were intricately trimmed into the shape of various animals. even if the people that lived here were filthy rich, at least they had good decorative taste. 

“so if you have an invitation, why are we going around the back way?” luffy ponders.

usopp’s answer is nonchalant. “oh, i never use the front entrance. like i said, this is the vip entrance reserved for special guests.”

zoro scoffs. “this guy’s definitely–”

“don’t start,” you groan, cutting him off. 

abruptly, usopp freezes and spins around, attempting to usher your crew back. “you know what, there’s actually a more exclusive entrance this way–”

the sharp swoosh of a knife cutting through the air and burying itself in the ground between usopp’s feet cuts him off. from the direction the kitchen utensil was thrown stands a heavyset gentleman with his face wrinkled in anger. his demanding voice booms through the garden, “the hell are you doing here, usopp?” 

the dark-skinned boy fumbles over his word. “buchi, buddy, uh, kaya’s expecting me.”

“another one of your lies,” the man – seemingly named buchi – seethes, grabbing him by the collar. “you ain’t welcome here and you know it.”

“i know nothing of the sort,” usopp retorts, keeping his cool even when he was practically being lifted off the ground by his shirt. “i’m here to give kaya an extra special gift.”

before buchi can get another word out, a feminine voice calls out for your companion. coming down the steps is a frail looking girl in a pink dress. on her arm is a man dressed in a crisp suit, presumably the butler usopp had mentioned earlier. though, from where you stand you can’t see either of their faces too clearly. 

“what a wonderful surprise,” she exclaims, breathlessly. 

“kaya!” usopp exclaims, returning her enthusiasm. buchi has no choice but to let him go, begrudgingly. usopp makes sure to shoot him a smug look before walking towards the young girl. “happy birthday.” 

the butler clears his throat, not afraid to intrude on their special moment. “usopp, we’ve discussed this before. you mustn’t show up unannounced.” 

“nonsense, klahadore.” kaya smiles warmly. “have you come to tell me another story? i do love hearing about your adventures.” 

“i’ll do you one better,” usopp smirks with such confidence that even you’re left wondering what kind of surprise he has up his sleeve. “i brought some of my crew!” he gestures back towards the four of you, proudly. 

your excitement vanishes. “oh. the surprise is… us.”

“well, that’s boring,” luffy agrees, just as disappointed as you are. 

kaya, on the other hand, is none the wiser. “it’s so nice to meet you. you must all stay for dinner.” 

klahadore lowers his voice. “miss kaya, it is a bit last minute. i’m afraid the kitchen hasn’t prepared for any extra guests.”

“please,” begs kaya, softly. “it’s my birthday. can’t be too much trouble can it?” 

giving in, klahadore purses his lips. “anything for you, miss kaya.” 

luffy claps his hands together. “alright! when do we eat?” 

“you don’t. not dressed like that, at least.” the butler directs himself to a staff member with teal colored hair. “sham, kindly show usopp and his friends to the guest suites. you will bathe and change before dinner.”

she follows his orders and leads the way. luffy, usopp, nami, and zoro trail behind her and you go to do the same. however, all it takes is a quick glance to stop you dead in your tracks. usually, you weren’t one to stare but klahadore’s face. that stare. so dark and depraved. 

“yes, miss?” he asks, holding your gaze. “can i help you?” 

“n-no, i…” your throat goes dry as you attempt to recover smoothly. “i just wanted to, um, thank you for being so hospitable.” 

his lips curve upwards into a sinister grin. “the pleasure’s all mine.” as if to confirm your worst fear, klahadore uses his palm to readjust his glasses. his beady eyes gauge your reaction closely.

the familiar gesture sends chills down your spine. appearance-wise, he had changed drastically but his aura was still just as menacing as you remember it. he was still the corrupt pirate captain you used to serve under. you feel like a weak and helpless subordinate all over again.

“klahadore!” giggles kaya. “you’re smiling! that’s certainly a rarity.”

he hums. “i’ve simply come to the realization that having guests once in a while can truly be a delight.”

his sickeningly sweet tone makes your stomach turn. just the fact that you were standing in front of him – captain kuro – again after all these years was nauseating in itself. last you’d heard he had died at the hands of captain morgan. how was this even possible? then again, he wasn’t dubbed kuro of a hundred plans for no reason. he always had a trick or two up his sleeve. you assumed this was no different. 

“hey, you comin’?”

you turn around to see zoro waiting for you. he meets your gaze for a moment. the softness of his eyes is a stark contrast to kuro’s. it’s a breath of fresh air. he then shifts his attention to your former captain and you swear his eyes darken. 

“yeah, sorry,” you mumble, trying not to look shaken as you walk up the steps. 

zoro follows behind you, this time closer than before.

“why would anybody even need this many clothes?”

“it’s not about need with these people, luffy. it’s about want,” nami spits, thumbing through the various fabrics on the wall. 

“at least she’s rich and nice,” luffy replies, innocently.

nami rolls her eyes. “yeah, letting us stay for dinner must be her idea of charity work.” 

“what are we even supposed to wear?” luffy continues, uninterested in nami’s criticism of the rich. 

“anything you want. when are you ever going to get the opportunity to wear things this nice?” 

you step out from behind the changing board where you’d swapped out your old tee and cargo skirt for an elegant satin dress. it was a stunning shade of olive green and frilly lace decorated the edges. not to mention, it hugged your curves in all the right ways.

nami’s eyes widen. “see, she’s got the right idea. you look amazing.” 

you smile, bashfully. “honestly, i feel amazing.”

“you look the same to me,” your captain shrugs.

nami shoots him a death glare but you intervene before she can scold him.

“way to keep me humble, luffy.”

“no problem!” 

at that exact moment, a freshly showered zoro arrives donning a silk robe. he eyes the multitude of garments that cover every inch of the room, not particularly impressed. 

“there you are. don’t you think she looks nice?” nami asks him, gesturing towards you. she doesn’t notice how you shrink under zoro’s gaze. neither does he, as his eyes take their time raking over you, from top to bottom.

he hums. “suits you.” with that, he sets off towards a chair in the corner of the room.  

“seriously?” sighs nami, exasperated. “are you two physically unable to give compliments or something?” 

“hey, doesn’t that butler seem familiar to you guys?” zoro asks, promptly ignoring nami’s complaint. 

his question causes your breath to hitch. you’d pushed the kuro problem to the back of your mind while you were in search of a suitable dinner outfit. you figured that as long as your crew was by your side, he wouldn’t dare try anything. and even if he did… well, you’d seen what had happened to axe-hand morgan and buggy. 

“yeah, i think he was at the last dinner party i attended,” nami replies sarcastically, taking a handful of dresses behind the changing board. 

as he takes a seat, zoro grumbles, “i swear i’ve seen him before.” 

“where?” you can’t help but ask, fiddling with the lace on the neckline of your dress. 

“so far, i’ve got two suspicions. a wanted poster or funky bar on mirrorball island. you ever been?”

you know zoro’s teasing you, judging by the grin on his face. after all, funky bar was known to get insanely rowdy; never would he imagine finding someone as gentle as you there. but what he didn’t know is that it happened to be one of kuro’s favorite bars. per his request, you and the rest of the black cat pirates frequented it often, so he was more than likely right about having seen kuro there. he’d probably even seen you in passing, once or twice. thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have any recollection of that.

the thought of zoro knowing about your past forms a knot in the pit of your stomach. would he think less of you for having joined such a ruthless crew at one point in your life? what if it put a strain on the friendship you’d worked so hard to form? 

“i’ve, uh, heard of it,” you decide to reply, pushing down your worries for the time being. 

he tilts his head slightly, thinking out loud. “then again, i have seen a lot of wanted posters and bars in my time as a pirate hunter.”

you feel a grin creep onto your face. “probably more bars than posters, huh?”

zoro mirrors your smile. “shut up.”

by the time dinner rolls around, the entire crew is doing what they do best. 

luffy is stuffing his face, nami is attempting to swindle one of the staff, zoro is hanging by the drinks, and you’re hanging by zoro. 

“hey zoro, you gotta try this!” luffy calls through a mouthful of food.

“i’ve got all i need right here,” he mutters, taking a swig out of his champagne flute. 

“you know, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you choke down something that isn’t alcohol,” you comment, watching the way he downs the glass in one go. 

dryly, he replies, “that’s because i haven’t.”

“very on brand.”

“ladies and gentlemen,” calls out that voice from the top of the stairs. “may i present… miss kaya.”

arm in arm, kuro and kaya walk down the steps, all eyes on the birthday girl and her stunning gown. well, except you. your eyes never leave the so-called butler by her side. your jaw clenches when he has the audacity to meet your gaze and hold it. shameless bastard. 

once they reach the bottom, merry leads kaya to the guests while kuro takes his post at the bottom of the stairs… right next to the drink table. before you can think about steering yourself and zoro away, kuro speaks.

“forgive me if i am speaking out of line, madam, but i must inform you. you look positively radiant,” he purrs, soaking in your appearance. he looks ready to pounce.

you can’t stop your eyes from rolling. good to know he’s the same pervert he used to be.

looking between you both and sensing your discomfort, zoro steps in. “and you look familiar.” 

kuro’s head stiffly turns to face him, eyes peeling away from you. “highly doubtful, sir.” 

“funky bar? mirror ball island?” 

“funky bar?” kuro repeats, disgusted. “well, i can assure you i’ve never patronized that type of establishment.” 

while it was amusing to see your highly esteemed former captain lie through his teeth, the tension between him and zoro was unbearable. 

“well then.” zoro continues with his little interrogation. “ever been on a wanted poster?”

you cringe at his bluntness. sometimes it seemed like he had less of a filter than luffy.

kuro puts on a scandalized face at the question. “sir! such an accusation is highly offensive.” tugging on his collar, he goes to remove himself from zoro’s probing. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to help prepare the dinner table.” 

he leaves, en route to the dining room. zoro’s eyes follow his figure until he disappears, squinting as he racks his brain for any further recollection of this suspicious butler. 

you sigh. if zoro was going to continue being so relentless, you were sure the night would end in bloodshed and uncovered secrets. 

“keep this coming,” zoro demands, handing the empty wine bottle to sham. she takes it with a glare. 

“would it kill you to say please?” you ask, slicing the slab of fish on your plate into smaller pieces.

“the service here is shitty. why should i have to be polite?” 

you scowl. “remind me to never have dinner with you again.”

zoro turns to you with that cocky grin of his. “what if i asked nicely?” 

his quip makes your heart flutter but you manage to keep your composure. “you can try your luck.” 

before he can respond, usopp speaks up. “luffy, isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to kaya about?” 

luffy gesticulates enthusiastically with his fork. “oh, yes! usopp told me that you own the whole shipyard.” 

“well, actually, my parents founded the shipyard and merry’s been running the business since they… passed. but all that’s about to change. tonight, at midnight, i will become the sole owner.” she smiles somberly. 

“well, that’s great,” luffy says, raising his drink at her. “because we want to buy a ship from you.” 

“ah, i see. usopp mentioned that you’re sailors.” 

“nope, not sailors. we’re pirates!”

you’re certain at least three people at the table choke on their food, yourself included. 

“this ought to be good,” zoro mumbles behind his glass.

you’re too busy coughing into your napkin to chastise him for finding this entertaining.

“pirates?” kaya repeats, unsure of how to react. 

“yup! we haven’t sailed together for very long but we’ve already defeated an evil clown, raided a marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe! for a hand!” luffy holds up a fist, presumably to impersonate axe-hand morgan.

“sounds a lot like your adventures, usopp,” kaya says, turning to the brunette.

all he can do is laugh dryly. “yeah, that’s… that’s crazy.” 

“and we’re just getting started!” luffy continues, climbing up onto the table.

“someone put me out of my misery,” you mumble, looking down at your plate to ignore the secondhand embarrassment.

a tap on your shoulder answers your plea.

turning around, you find yourself face to face with kuro once again. “madam, a word please?”

“might i ask what for?” zoro cuts in before you can so much as think of a response.

kuro offers him the most forced grin you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing. “i’m afraid that is between the lady and i.”

the swordsman turns to you, scanning your face for any ounce of discomfort. “you okay with that?”

you inhale, figuring it was finally time for you to confront the darkest part of your past. it was silly to assume you would be able to ignore him throughout your entire stay here. besides, you were sure zoro, just like the rest of your crew, would be on standby if kuro got brave enough to try anything. “sure. just… keep an eye out.”

zoro understands completely. truthfully, you didn’t even need to ask – he always looked after you. “got it.”

you push yourself out of your seat and smooth out your dress. you allow kuro to lead you to the doorway – he was smart enough to know that was the farthest you’d let him take you. 

“what do you want, klahadore?” you seethe, folding your arms.

he arches a brow. “why must you call me that? it’s ridiculous.” 

you tilt your head with faux innocence. “oh? is that not your name? must have misheard.”

he gives you an irritated look, dark eyes drilling into you.

“i remember that look,” you mutter, your memory serving you well. “it’s the same one you’d give me before you’d threaten to slice me to bits with your claws.”

kuro has the audacity to chuckle dryly. “but i never did, did i? although there were certainly times times where i should’ve.”

“what you should be is dead,” you hiss bitterly. “when i heard the news, i knew it was too good to be true.”

“you wound me, kitten,” he drawls, reaching up to fix his glasses. 

the condescending nickname makes your skin crawl. it carried so many awful memories of your time spent with the black cat pirates. it reminded you of just how weak kuro viewed you — nothing but a helpless, pitiful kitten in his eyes. typical of the man that abused his authority and treated you with not a single ounce of respect. 

he continues, putting on a sweet tone. “after all these years, stuck waiting hand and foot on that spoiled brat, there’s nothing i’d love more than to hear my favorite crew mate say my real name.”

you snap at him. “i’m no crew mate of yours.”

he sighs, dramatically. “sadly, you’re correct. after all, you did slip off the ship the moment we docked in shells town. locating you on an island crawling with marines proved to be nearly impossible. we had no choice but to leave without you.”

“that’s exactly why i chose to escape there.” 

“and to this day i can’t for the life of me figure out why you would ever do that. why would you want to leave us? leave me?”

you actually laugh right in his face. “is it really that hard to figure out? you were evil. you threatened and harassed me on a daily basis.”

“so your solution was to join that ragtag crew?” he glances at the table. “it’s pathetic, even for you.”

you lean into his face, lowering your voice down. “i’m happier than i ever was on your shitty crew. every day i wake up grateful that i managed to escape you.”

you see that vein on his forehead bulge before he’s gripping you by the chin. “listen here, you little bitch–”

the shiny silver of a sword slides between you and kuro, coming to rest against his neck. his adam’s apple bobs as he gulps anxiously, releasing you. thanks to zoro’s sword, it seemed as if he finally remembered where he was. you were no longer on his ship, he was no longer allowed to treat you like the dirt he walked on. not without someone noticing, that is. 

“why don’t you step away?” zoro offers simply.

that much was a kindness. usually those who found themselves on the end of zoro’s blade(s) weren’t lucky enough to receive a warning. however, the swordsman didn’t wish to cause a scene. at least not when you were right there and everyone was watching with shock from the dinner table.

kuro obliges, stumbling back. he meets kaya’s horrified eyes, feeling ashamed that he allowed his act to slip. surely this would cause some setbacks in his plan. with no excuse for his uncharacteristic behavior, the raven haired man scurries away and up the stairs.

zoro turns and locks eyes with luffy, giving him one singular nod. luffy returns it, jumping out of his seat and going after the butler. quiet murmuring breaks out at the dinner table, everyone surely confused. 

sheathing his sword, zoro directs his attention to you once more. “are you alright?” a calloused hand comes up to grip your chin, much like kuro had. however, this time, the touch is gentle. loving, almost. you welcome it.

“yeah, i’m… fine.” your heart is beating out of your chest and it has everything to do with your close proximity to zoro.

he tilts your face around, inspecting every inch of it. once he finishes, he pulls back. his demeanor goes serious once more. “we need to have a talk.”

you nod. “i know. i’ve been keeping some things from you guys and–”

“just tell me what’s been going on,” he demands. “and don’t overcomplicate it. you can be straightforward with me.”

his sincerity makes you start over, this time far more candidly. “klahadore used to be a pirate. i was part of his crew. he was my… captain.”

the shame in your voice pulls at zoro’s heartstrings. didn’t you know there was no reason to feel guilty with him? “is that it?” 

you open your mouth to speak but come up empty. all you can do is furrow your eyebrows at his unexpectedly dismissive reaction.

“i knew it,” zoro continues, annoyed. “i knew i’d seen him on a wanted poster before. just didn’t have any proof.”

“wait, so you don’t– you really don’t care?” you ask, still avoiding eye contact. “me being a former black cat pirate doesn’t bother you?”

he shrugs. “you said it yourself. ‘former.’ all that matters is that you got the hell out of there. and away from that creep. would he always put his hands on you like that?”

you blink a couple times, sighing. “his temper was really bad so–”

that seemed to be enough for zoro. “i’ll kill the bastard,” he hisses. “wanted to slice him to bits the moment i saw him grab you.” 

though it’s a violent threat, you can’t help but smile. the idea of zoro being so protective that he’d kill a man just for touching you made you blush. pirate love language, you suppose.

“well, i wouldn’t have stopped you,” you tell him, more than ready to see your former captain go.

zoro clicks his tongue. “nah. could’ve stained your new dress with his blood. i never would have been able to forgive myself.”

“so you do have a soft spot,” you tease.

“only for pretty things.”

“do you mean me or the dress?” 

now it’s zoro’s turn to become bashful. though, his lack of response is an answer in itself. you can’t help but giggle. 

a loud bang from upstairs interrupts your moment with the green-haired man. you assume luffy had gotten his hands on kuro… or vice versa. zoro must be thinking the same thing judging by the way he instinctively rests a hand on the handle of his blade.

“you should go up there,” you tell him. “i’ll stay with kaya.”  

he gives you a nod, though he doesn’t make any effort to leave. he stands there like he wants to say something… or do something. before you can think about it too much, you pull him in by the collar and crash your lips onto his. they’re slightly chapped and taste like the wine that’d come from the cellar – it’s pleasant. his large palms come to rest on your lower back; his hold feels tight and secure. 

when you finally allow yourself to pull away, you’re biting back a smile. “kick his ass for me.” 

“will i get more of that if i do?” asks zoro, wetting his lips. they now taste like the cherry lip gloss you’d borrowed from kaya. he takes a step forward, attempting to close the gap between you two once more.

you shrug, pushing him away by the chest. “go help luffy and we’ll see.”

you both know that means yes.

[yyokkki]

The Prefect's Laugh

Dropping this monstrosity i wrote in September 2023 because I feel like I'm never going to leave this fandom.

First Years x gn! Prefect

Warning: I haven't played chapter 7, Prefect has a distinct personality so it doesn't really count as x reader but some people could find them relatable, a jumble of canon and non-canon events, mild cursing?

Divider by @saradika

It wasn’t that the Prefect never smiled. In fact, they may have smiled a little too often. It could be as simple as a wordless greeting or as complex as a way to cope with fear, but there was one particular expression the first years saw only once in a blue moon. The smile that comes alongside a fit of laughter.

The first time Ace saw the infamous Ramshackle Prefect smile like that was not too long after they had first met. It was a day or two after Heartslabyul’s housewarden overblotted and they’d finally gotten the rose garden in order.

While chatting about that day’s happenings, a rather embarrassing detail was brought up (embarrassing to Ace at least).

“Can we, like, NOT talk about this anymore??”

“I mean, the housewarden was really going in on you and you just stood there and took it but as soon as he said those things about the Prefect’s parents you didn’t even hold back. It’s weirdly sweet of him, right?”

Deuce looked towards the Prefect for their input to which they replied by fervently nodding their head.

“Wow, who could’ve guessed that maybe THE Ace Trappola cares about his friends??”

“…Honestly would’ve believed you more if you said you did it just to prove you could.”

“Pfft-“

Ace’s head whipped to the side, and he stared at the blooming smile on the Prefect’s face. Crinkled eyes, a hand in front of their mouth and slightly flushed cheeks as they tried to hold in their chuckles.

He wanted to make a snarky comment, something like, ‘I’ve been trying to make you laugh for the past two weeks and THIS Is what makes you break?’

Instead, what came out of his mouth was… Silence.

Maybe the new expression was too shocking as he just stared, five parts confusion, three parts embarrassment, two parts bashfulness. The most he could get out of them even with the most well-crafted jokes were slight smirks and yet something Deuce said without even intending to be funny made them crack.

He felt wronged.

And flustered.

…Shit, why are they kinda cute.

Going back to before the overblot, a day that Deuce personally considers more traumatising than his own housewarden’s mental breakdown.

Sorrowfully gazing upon the carnage of eggshells, whites and yolks jumbled up in the plastic bag branded with the words, Mr. S’ Mystery Shop, Deuce gave out another wistful sigh.

“I just hope those chicks can rest in peace.”

“…You know those eggs don't hatch into chickens, right?”

Shocked, flabbergasted, gobsmacked, stunned, stupefied, bowled-over; all words that could be used to describe Deuce Spade’s current state of mind.

“Wh- WHAT??? YOU’RE KIDDING.”

While Deuce was having an epiphany about the eggshell-shocking revelation, he noticed the Prefect’s slightly hunched over back and trembling frame. He was about to go comfort them when he saw their face…

And heard their laughter, ringing out like the sound of wind chimes swaying with the summer breeze, despite it being mid-September.

“YOU’RE LAUGHING???”

He looked at them with five parts feelings of betrayal, three parts despair and two parts anger. He was so offended that he immediately stormed off with the grocery bags in hand, huffing and puffing as he went on his unmerry way.

It wasn’t until later that the Prefect started feeling guilty about their reaction to the incident. It kind of felt like telling a little kid Santa wasn’t real…

They apologised, got him a book about the evolution of egg production, hugged it out and all was forgiven.

It wasn’t until much much later that Deuce Spade realised, he had only seen the Prefect laugh a handful of times, that incident taking up one of the spaces.

It had grown to become one of his favourite sounds in the world.

Jack Howl was never one for bad jokes or witty banter. Whenever he and the Prefect stood together, besides looking like a sturdy tree next to a swaying flower, they didn’t look friendly- much less like friends.

Only the two of them understood the solidarity that came with the silence. They were each others go-to when the other first years got too rowdy.

Truly the mom and dad of the group.

They would occasionally engage in conversation. Somehow when they were together, asking about each other’s day would lead to which parts of home they missed most now that they were away or embarrassing childhood memories, they hadn’t told anyone else about.

It was on a day like any other, a long while after the deep sea overblot.

Jack and the Prefect had finally started speaking to each other comfortably, yet most of their time together was spent just existing in the same room, doing their own thing.

It wasn’t awkward, at least not to the Prefect. But they had to ask just in case.

“Hey, do you ever feel like we don’t really talk when we hang out?”

“…Well, we are at the library.”

“I mean at other places too.”

Jack looked up from his notes, glancing at the Prefect with a little apprehension tracing his features.

“Why? You find it weird?”

“No, I like it a lot, just- I’m not used to it you know? Whether it’s the friends I’ve made here or my friends from back home they’ve never been the type to let the room stay quiet for over five seconds.”

They shifted slightly to cast an inquisitive glance over at him, “I can’t tell if you mind or not.”

Against his very own will, Jack’s tail started flowing slightly. So, they like being around him?

“I feel the same as you. I like our time together.”

Realising he sounded a little too soft, he immediately started backpedalling.

“Not that that means anything. I enjoy spending time with many people, doesn’t make you special.”

After finishing his piece, Jack looked back down at his notes, playing it cool. His tail, however, betrayed his feelings.

"Pfhaha, so cute, it’s like a helicopter-“

“…”

Not knowing how to defend himself, Jack got up to sit across the Ramshackle Prefect, blocking their view of his tail but giving him the perfect angle to catch all their expressions.

…It may be a little too late for him.

It all started with a godforsaken game of PG rated chicken.

Epel Felmier didn’t know whose dumb idea it was to hold a competition like this among all the first years but damn was he killin’ it.

It was almost too easy. It made him feel conflicted. Should he be happy that he’d somehow reached the finals? Or mad that it’s all cause of his face and build?? Either way, the prize was too good to pass up so he was gonna win.

So far he’d been flyin’ through with direct eye contact and a smile or two if his opponents were tougher but the final round had been filling him with a weird sense of dread, so he decided to prepare a little somethin’ special this time.

He doubted he’d have to use it though; he didn’t think very highly of the kids at NRC in this specific department…

That being until he got a text from the organiser telling him who his opponent was, that being: the Ramshackle Prefect.

Well shit.

He knew they never judged anybody, including him, for their appearance, and he’d always appreciated them for that. But in this context, it would make ‘em a tough nut to crack.

Not even mentioning, they knew his weakness when he didn’t have theirs.

He immediately pulled down their chat and started typing ferociously.

‘you. me. ramshackle lounge. after school. please?’ And send.

Might as well get a practise round in to scope the waters.

Luckily, the Prefect considered him a friend and wasn’t overly cautious, so not long after the text was sent an ‘ok’ was promptly sent back.

As soon as school let out, Epel ran into the Prefect in the mirror chamber, and they embarked towards Ramshackle dorm together.

He’d informed them of his intentions while on the way, so they got started after arriving.

First, he tried his usual techniques despite knowing they wouldn’t work. As expected, the Prefect didn’t so much as flinch.

Then they smiled warmly at him.

“Your training has been working out really well, I can see a little more definition on your arms. How do you even do it? What you lack in a natural constitution is already being made up for by your will and perseverence! It's really rare to find people like you out there.”

Shit, a genuine compliment about his mental and physical growth! That’s critical damage, how could they be so dirty, using his weakness against him?

Well, if that’s how they’re gonna play it.

Epel held up his two hands in front of him, forming a heart with his fingers.

The Prefect looked unfazed. They just smiled at him, mockingly (Epel’s perception).

Fine. He’s been left with no choice but to pull out his secret weapon.

“I-If you were a fruit, you’d be a FINEAPPLE!” Absolutely humiliating.

But also absolutely effective.

The Prefect’s mask started cracking at its seams.

“F-fineapple? I never thought I'd ever hear you say anything like that- Pfft hehe-“

He'd won, but his face was as red as his namesake as the visage of his Prefect’s tinted cheeks and choked back giggles entered his heart.

On the day of the competition, he lost miserably. The Prefect ended up passing the prize onto him, claiming they were only participating for fun, but he wasn’t really upset.

It’s for the best that no one else sees that face anyways.

Sebek Zigvolt’s sole purpose for living is to serve his young master as a reliable retainer.

In order to be reliable, he must excel in both academics and athletics. Athletics weren’t worth mentioning and he found all academic subjects easy enough.

All except for art, that is.

Making use of a medium to place your creative vision onto a surface sounded simple, yet the product had never lived up to his expectations, creating a habit of casting fire spells to burn the causes of his shame.

After yet another round of sweeping up the ashes of a canvas, he’d decided enough was enough. As unbecoming as it was, a good retainer would ask for help when he really needed it.

And he really really needed it.

His next course of action was to head over to the staff room and inquire with the Art professor for private lessons, only to be told that she had no empty slots in her schedule.

“If you don’t mind learning from another student, I recommend asking the Ramshackle Prefect to tutor you. They’re one of the best among their peers and I’ve seen them offering help to other students during my classes so I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

That magicless human? He’d only ever spoken two or three sentences to them, and he couldn’t stand the uncouth beast following them around every hour of the day, but if they truly were one of the best…

Thus started a deal he would come to regret in the future.

The Prefect wasn’t a bad teacher. They’d gotten him to start on the basics before even thinking of the elaborate portraits he’d always been hellbent on doing.

Once he’d finally grasped the techniques needed, he immediately jumped onto the opportunity to paint his young master, using one of his sacred wallet sized photos as reference. The Prefect stood beside him the whole time, pointing out mistakes and fixing any parts he deemed unsatisfactory.

The only qualm he had was that they’d protested to his idea to paint a wall sized mural, stating that it was too advanced.

With a beautiful portrait in tow, he returned and hung it up near his shrine. It couldn’t compare to his young master’s radiance but it had been the best thing he’d ever painted and he was felling pleased with himself.

An idea came over him. He wouldn’t have been able to do this without their help after all…

And that was what led to him showing up at Ramshackle outside of lesson hours with a small canvas nervously clenched in his hands.

“Human. It didn’t turn out as well without your guidance, but this is a little token of appreciation for your help these past few weeks.” He pushed the portrait into the Prefects hands, ready to accept criticism.

“…”

“Human..?”

“…Pffhehe-, I never expected you to do something so heartfelt for a ‘dumb human’. Heh, I guess I really grew on you!”

“Why are you laughing?! ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME??”

If he had his sword on him he would be unsheathing it right now.

“No, no, thanks man, I love it.”

The brightest and most genuine smile he’d ever seen from them blossomed.

He felt his face burn and his heartbeat rise to an abnormal degree as the Prefect’s warm gaze felt as though it were boring into him.

…I must inquire with Master Lilia what hex this human has placed upon me. Right this instant!

[dollfacefantasy]

Hold My Calls

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you teasing leon about his flip phone leads to some fun

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fucking during a phone call, age gap, daddy kink, praise/degradation, over-stimulation

word count: 2.9k

a/n: hey everyone school is kicking my ass rn, but i am back with another one. thank you so much for the support on my last post that meant the world to me. i don't care if this is not technologically accurate or whatever just let me be delusional in peace. as always comments and reblogs are appreciated and i will give you special smooches in return <3 also thank you too my loves @tosuckmyweenis @kaitkatme @chasingkennedy @explorevenus @sleepyluxe @death-paint @petitecolibri for helping me come up with ideas for this one and/or beta reading - ily all sm :)

When you started dating Leon Kennedy, obviously you knew there was an age gap. You figured it wasn’t a big deal. He’s only thirty-six. That isn’t that much older. And for the most part, that was true. The difference in years never seemed to play a huge part in how you loved each other. But there was one thing that reminded you of this man’s age.

He had a fucking flip phone.

Honestly, it didn’t even say much about his age. It highlighted his stubbornness. He was not incompetent. His job had him working with all kinds of shit that you didn’t even try to understand, so it’s not like he can’t work a smartphone. He just doesn’t want to.

It didn’t really matter. If anything, it was kind of cute. The way he fumbled with the buttons that were too small for his fingers. The loud chiming ringtone that he would grumble about yet never turn down. The sight of him trying to find the right distance to hold the phone away from his face so he could read the font. You had heart eyes on your first date when this man popped in a CD because he couldn’t use the aux with his flip phone. They were simple quirks, but they were just so endearing to you. You’d tease him about being outdated, and he’d put up with it cause it was you.

“Why do I need anything more? This thing can call you, and that’s all I really need,” he’d say with a teasing expression when you’d crack a joke.

You’d roll your eyes at the excessive charm, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, but-”

And he’d cut you off with a kiss. “Trust me. I like it. It’s simple. Plus it’s like indestructible. But if I ever want an upgrade, you’ll be the first to know.”

The only time Leon ever considered ditching his trusty flip phone and upgrading to something more advanced was when you would send him nudes. Seeing the masterpiece that is your body reduced to a handful of pixels on the tiny screen drove him fucking wild. Upon hearing the chime of his phone and seeing the small image of you gracing his screen, he’d find a moment alone to try and see the details. He’d hold the phone two inches away from his face trying to make out every last curve. Days when he got those pictures ended with nights where you got fucked on every surface in the house.

He’d come home from work, his eyes full of lust before he even saw you. You’d glide into the room with a knowing smile on your face. You wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.

“Hi, baby. How was work?” you ask, feigning innocence. You close the distance between the two of you and wrap your arms around him.

“Oh, you care about my work now, huh?” he asks, a smirk creeping onto his face as his arms return your embrace, “Doesn’t seem like it when you send me those cute pictures during the day, distracting me, making me think about you when I should be focused.”

Your lips part and your eyebrows raise in mock offense. “I only send those to help you, motivate you,” you tease as your fingers coast along his biceps, “Maybe if you had a real phone they wouldn’t bother you so much. You’d be able to see everything clearly and not be left imagining.”

“I don’t need to stress about pictures though when I got the real thing waiting at home for me every night,” he purrs as he leans in and starts kissing you.

You return the kiss with the same level of passion, lips moving with his as the two of you stumble over to the couch. You fall back onto the cushions with Leon on top of you. His hands already roam your body and begin removing articles of clothing. He wasn’t in the mood to take his time after having that grainy image of you gnawing at his mind all day.

“Fuck, baby. Every time… I can never get enough,” he grunts as he yanks your top over your head and tosses it to the side. His hands rub up and down your sides, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your sensitive skin and making you squirm. In no time though, they’re on your breasts. He kneads the plump flesh as his lips trail down to your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva-coated skin in their wake.

He’s all over you all at once it seems. It’s overwhelming in the best way. You’re moaning and writhing on the couch, nearly trying to hump his leg while one of your hands tugs at his hair. You bite your lip and whimper as his lips move down over the swell of your chest.

He grabs your hips firmly and presses them down to the couch. His half-lidded eyes look up at you momentarily. “Quit squirming,” he breathes. He gives your chest a few more kisses while keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Need time with my pretty girl after I’ve been aching for her all day.”

You give a weak nod and focus on controlling your movements as he tugs your shorts off and drops them.

“Good girl,” he mutters before attaching his lips to one of your nipples and swirling his tongue around the peak. He hums in satisfaction as he feels the bud in his mouth. His fingers lazily stroke up and down your folds over your panties. He disconnects his mouth momentarily and looks up at you again with a smirk on his face.

“So wet already?” he teases, now being his turn to look smug, “You want me just as bad, don’t you? That’s why you send those pictures right? You’re missing Daddy while he’s at work?”

“Mhm, miss you so bad. It drives me crazy,” you say. A whimper escapes you as his fingers apply more pressure and his movements more strategically target your clit.

“I can tell. Makes you act like a little slut, huh?” he asks before he kisses down your stomach to the hem of your panties.

You feel your face getting hot at his comment, but you nod anyway. You bite your lip and keep your eyes locked with his.

He chuckles at your timid confirmation. “That’s ok, honey. Daddy’s here now. I’m gonna make sure you get all the attention you need. Can’t have my girl left wanting,” he says, pulling down your panties and putting them with your other discarded clothes.

He loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer so that you’re angled in a way he can reach you from his position on his knees. Your back is flat on the couch, and your legs are held over his shoulders. He doesn’t waste time, licking a stripe up your cunt and then delving his tongue inside of you.

Your head falls back onto the cushion in response. A moan escapes your throat at the sensation. Your sounds only increase in frequency and volume as he grips you tighter and fucks his tongue in and out of you. He watches you, relishing how he can pleasure you with so few touches. His tongue laps up your wetness and his mouth finds your clit again, sucking and flicking against the bundle of nerves just how you like.

His name and a variety of expletives leave your mouth while your hand slides into his hair and holds the blonde locks. Your hips twitch from the rising feelings of ecstasy in your tummy, but Leon’s hands keep you firmly in place. He devours you like a starved man, the hours of torture that little picture inflicted on him all paying off right now.

He’s skillfully swirling patterns onto your clit and occasionally exploring your insides. He knows you’re close because he can feel the way you’re pulsing and hear the way your moans and whines reach that slightly higher pitch. It only makes him work with more dedication.

“That’s right, sweetheart. C’mon, give it to Daddy. Let me taste it,” he grunts as he continues working you to the edge.

You cry out, your thighs quivering and your hips bucking as you succumb to release. You’re moaning with abandon, fingers clutching his hair as tight as possible. He groans into you from the sight in front of him.

You ride the high and he continues with his mouth throughout. When you reach the seeming conclusion, your chest is heaving and your limbs feel heavy, but Leon doesn’t stop. He continues on as if you were still on the way to your climax instead of coming down.

“Too much,” you whimper as your hips jerk and your hands make a weak attempt to push his head away, “Daddy, please.”

“Daddy, please?” he mocks with a laugh, “But this is what you wanted, babydoll. You wanted my attention, didn’t you?”

You whine, hips still squirming as your retort dies in your throat. It felt euphoric, it was just so much. This was what you wanted though.

“That’s what I thought,” he says before burying his face between your thighs again.

He continues eating you out until you’re an absolute mess. Your eyes are rolling back, nonstop whimpers fall from your lips, and your twitching thighs are clamped around Leon’s head. It was what he’d been wanting to see since he’d heard that chime in his back pocket.

“I’m gonna cum,” you slur. Your head felt cloudy from the numerous orgasms he’d brought you. A strangled cry tears through you as your body moves like it’s possessed. You convulse on the couch while his mouth makes you see stars for the umpteenth time.

Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of your release, and finally, he starts easing off of you. He pulls your thighs off of his head and leans back. He wipes his chin that’s coated in your slick and licks his fingers. Seeing that alone has you clench around nothing which in turn spreads a smirk on his face.

“Good girl, baby,” he coos, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “You did so well. I’m proud of you.”

He stands up from his knees, grunting as he gets to his feet and taking a moment to stretch. You can tell the extended amount of time in the position put some strain on him. Your lips curl into a small smile while adoration fills your hazy eyes.

“Your joints locking up on you, old man?” you tease with a quiet laugh.

“Don’t start,” he says, trying to sound stern, but you can see him suppressing his own smile, “Especially since I know you want more.”

That shuts you up because he’s right. He shakes his head and makes a mock sound of disappointment.

“I know you, baby. My dirty girl. Made you cum how many times, and you still want more,” he says. He begins stripping off his clothes into a pile next to yours. “My little whore would never turn down a chance to take my cock.”

Once his clothes are off, he languidly strokes himself a few times and climbs on top of you. He peppers some kisses on your face and starts to slide inside you. You were more than ready but still sensitive from the recent series of highs.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll get you full of my cum in no time. Fuck all that neediness right out,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath on you sending chills down your spine.

You mewl and tighten around him in more ways than one. Your arms cling to his torso that hovers above you while your walls squeeze around him to take him deeper. He grunts and his head falls forward a little as he feels sparks of pleasure in his abdomen.

“There you go, angel. Taking me so perfect. My pretty girl. Made for me,” he says into your ear as he sinks into you completely.

You nod mindlessly, your head fogging up again as he fills you. He presses sloppy kisses to your neck as he starts pumping in and out. You’re both breathing heavily and allowing the pleasure to take over. One of your hands slides to his hair to rub his head while his hips snap against you.

He’s falling into the perfect rhythm with you, one that’s driving you both toward the goal line, when suddenly you hear a muffled guitar strum coming from the floor. Leon groans and you burst into laughter as you hear the ringtone you had set for him as a joke.

His movements get weaker as his focus is drawn elsewhere, but he doesn’t stop rocking his hips. He reaches down to the floor where his phone is ringing in the pocket of his crumpled pants. He fishes it out and shifts so he’s kneeling while drilling into you.

He holds the phone up and squints to read the tiny caller ID on the flip phone which makes you laugh harder through moans. He smirks at your laughter and clamps a hand over your mouth. “Shut up, I gotta take this,” he says teasingly.

He whips open the phone, the maneuver causing you to moan and squeeze around him again. He winces at the sensation, nearly unable to restrain himself from giving into his carnal urges to groan and slam into you harder.

Your eyes widen as he brings the phone to his ear without stopping his hips and in the most monotonous voice says “Kennedy here.”

It’s good that his hand is over your mouth to keep you quiet. The contrast of his movements and that voice have the sparks of pleasure igniting into flames in your belly. Seeing how he handles his dumbass flip phone so smoothly has your arousal nearly pooling on the couch.

He listens to the call while grinning at you struggling to keep yourself somewhat under control. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Sounds about right,” he drones as the person on the other end goes on and on.

His strokes are just as deep as before, nudging you in the perfect spots repeatedly. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself getting near the peak. A soft whimper escapes you, loud enough to pierce the barrier of Leon’s hand. His hips sputter at the noise and his face contorts. He lets out a quiet grunt but quickly catches himself before losing it further.

“What? Yeah, I’m listening,” he says, his tone growing a little impatient, “Look, I’m just wrapped up in something right now. Could you not have just told me this before I left?”

You know he’s getting closer himself and struggling to hold back. You can tell from the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes are projecting his rising frustration he has for the person who made this call.

“Yes, I understand. I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he says, effectively ending the conversation. 

Then, to hang up, he doesn’t press a button. Instead, he flicks his wrist and shuts the flip phone with a clack.

You throw your head back against the couch cushion and a loud moan rips through your throat. You shudder as a wave of pleasure courses through you after witnessing something so unexplainably hot.

His eyebrows raise in amusement, noticing how much you enjoyed that. “Hmm, I’m not hearing any complaints about the phone now,” he says. He’s trying to tease, but his voice is husky with arousal. He maintains his grin as he drops the phone to the floor again and returns to his previous position which was closer to you.

“Careful, you’re gonna break it,” you whimper.

“Nah baby, I told you that thing is indestructible,” he breathes and starts pounding you into the couch mercilessly.

You bite your lip and resume clinging to him, your fingers digging into his back. You both are panting, expressions going lax as you focus on chasing the high.

“Daddy, ‘m gonna cum,” you mewl, unable to contain yourself for much longer.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he says into your ear, his voice taking on more of a growl, “Daddy’s right there with you. You deserve it for being so good for me. Being nice and quiet while I was on the phone.”

As soon as you have permission, you give into another release. Your legs shake and your arms cling to him tighter as the euphoria shoots through you. You’re gasping for air and whining while squirming beneath him. Soon it’s just too much for Leon. He tightens his grip on you and slams deep before groaning and draining himself inside of you.

He rocks in and out a few more times before slowly pulling out. He then sits up on the couch and sinks back into the cushions. You follow by sitting up as well and curling up against his side. He pulls you into his lap, stroking your hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while until he gazes down at you with a smug look in his eyes.

“I knew the flip phone was a turn-on,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.

You scoff. “It is not. It was just… it was the situation,” you defend.

“Sure, but you were tightest when I was messing with the phone,” he says knowingly.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs at your stubbornness and gives you another kiss. “You can admit it, baby. I won’t judge. Really, if you like it that much, maybe I’ll show you how strong it can vibrate later.”