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tartagliaxx · 1 year

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。VENUS IN YOUR LOVE

━━ INCLUDES: il capitano, il dottore, scaramouche, pantalone, tartaglia

━━ SUMMARY: he makes you dizzy. he makes you crave. he makes you lose yourself in the desire to be swallowed by the immense heat and the blinding light of his love; or a snippet of what to expect when involved in a romantic relationship with the characters.

━━ CONTAINS: established relationships, highly suggestive themes, making out, usage of terms of endearment (none gender specific), innocent nudity (il capitano), size differences, dottore and his experiments, power imbalance (il dottore, pantalone, scaramouche), potentially ooc characters, toxic relationships?, the harbingers and everything they stand for

。IL CAPITANO — “ the captain | number ??? ”

Natlan was a very humid place, a direct opposite of Snezhnaya where the cold seeps into your bones until you, yourself, become nothing but cold. Still, he was first and foremost a warrior, and weather conditions are the least of a warrior’s concerns. Such things can be braved through and should you be unable, then that merely meant that you are undeserving of standing under the azure banner of Her most noble Majesty, the Tsaritsa. You are, therefore, not a warrior but a fool that marches towards your death while wearing a warrior’s skin, and the Captain had no respect for such people. Perhaps that is why he had not spared a single glance to the direction of his soldier that lie fainted on the ground. Instead, he had looked towards the others who hesitated between helping their comrade and risking the wrath of the displeased Harbinger or leaving them to die under the glare of the sun despite the guilt that was likely to consume them.

“Burdensome.” He had finally uttered after a long and tense silence. “Leave them or help them. It matters not to me.”

With that, the Harbinger walks away, the haunting click and clang of his armor sending shivers down the spines of his troop as they scurried to take the fainted Fatuus to the shade. Capitano was heading to the east of the encampment, the direction of his private tent where he had asked you to wait. Normally, he’d think twice before letting you tag along to his endeavors but his strange attachment wound up clouding his judgment. No matter… In war, the victors always had their share of spoils and you, his darling, are his prize. None who dare receive his wrath would lay a hand on you — not like he’d let anyone near you in the first place.

As he entered the tent, he anticipated your smaller form to leap into his embrace just as you had done the other times. To his surprise, his hidden gaze caught sight of you sweating, eyes droopy as you fan yourself with a stack of papers you found lying around. You had long since removed your coat, leaving you only in the cotton innerwear he had so generously gifted you. With a quiet call of your name, you turned your head slightly as you sent your lover a weak smile.

“Welcome back, my love. Is everything faring well outside?”

The Captain made no move to answer you, instead pulling your weak form towards him as he wiped your face gently. His touch was so careful that you barely felt the touch of the towel on your heated skin, “How do you feel?”

“Hot,” you whispered back, leaning into his body. His armor placated your feverish self slightly whilst his hold made you lose the edge you donned earlier, “Perhaps I never should’ve underestimated the fierceness of Natlan.”

An amused huff left him, or you supposed it was one as he stood up from his crouched position. With one arm around the plush of your thighs, he lifted you along just as he had done many times before. His strength has always struck wonder in you, you mused as your eyes fluttered closed, trusting him wholly to take you wherever. Without noticing, you had dozed off and you were only aroused once more when you feel the humid air brushing against your bare skin and then suddenly, a refreshing cool that revitalizes your energy.

“This should cool you down,” he uttered as he watched you dip further into the tub. A sense of satisfaction fills his dark heart when you suddenly smiled at him brightly, shyly muttering a word of gratitude for his kind act. You reach out for his hand and he takes it. He always does.

For this was how Capitano was with you. He was not the respected man who had unmercifully claimed uncountable victories in the name of vengeance and you, one of his disposable men. No, you are his treasure — his lover. Your fragility was endearing and something he fought to preserve. You are pure and unblemished, a reminder of home as you fall into his arms like a precious snowflake: his inamorata, the reason he fights.

“Eyes,” he tells you and you eagerly close them as you hear the clanking of metal that overwhelms you not with dread but with adoration. Not even a second later, your body shivers in delight as you feel a hand grip your chin firmly but not harshly — no, never. You are too precious for that. You wait for a second but nothing came and you knew that he was once again admiring you despite your impatience. A gloved knuckle traces over your cheekbone and you are light; a mere feather in the wind compared to his might.

You speak his name, gently as if you are wary of breaking the moment, but soon, the water moves along with your body as he tugs you into him for a much-awaited kiss. That is if you can call whatever you were blessed with a kiss. The Harbinger was a warrior and warriors spare nothing in their conquests. It made sense that you, at the receiving end of his attention, were spared nothing. He devoured your existence until only the willingness to keep giving him your entirety remained. As his tongue clashes with yours, your treacherous heart craves more and more of his taste. He’s addicting, you sigh out as he pulls back to nibble at your lip, pulling at it slightly before diving back in with renewed fervor. The Captain was fire and he burns his way into you as his large hands squeezed your flesh in raw desire. You’d have him engrave himself to you if he could — until you’re nothing but an extension of him and his will. He would never though. He'd sooner cut his arms off himself than lay a finger on you. It makes you smile, giddy even. The soft tickle of his breath fans your lips and you inch closer, arms gripping his forearms for leverage as you breathe him in.

Sooner than you’d like, he parts from you, and the thumb that flies to play with the string that remains to connect you two makes you think that he too enjoys this game of carnal conquest to the point of wishing to prolong it forever. The familiar clicking came again and you take the small tap he gave you as a sign to welcome the world once more. When you open your eyes, he was already covered by his armor. The only proof of his actions prior was yourself. Need-glazed eyes that lay lidded and wet lips that are parted for each puff of breath. Had this not been a common occurrence between the both of you, you would’ve felt ashamed at how debauched you looked from a mere kiss. He has always been different — so capable of giving rise to foreign feelings in you. The heat in your cheeks and the heavy beating of your heart are proof of that and you were sure you could do anything to keep receiving from him. Who else could reduce you to someone so, so lovestruck that it prompts even a chuckle out of a usually composed man?

“Take your time with your bath. I will make sure no one intrudes on us.”

。IL DOTTORE — “ the doctor | number two ”

“Darling,” he calls for you and you immediately look up from your book to gaze in his direction. You don’t move but you do stifle a sigh as he continues with nothing. You see, he has gained a rather annoying habit of adoringly watching you stare at him eagerly whenever he calls. He likens you to an obedient puppy and you weren’t quite sure what to make of it yet. Perhaps the ever-growing frown on your face caught his attention because his lips parted in a wide grin, showing off his sharp, pearly teeth as he patted his lap invitingly, “come over, please.”

You knew better than to take his words as a request you had a say in.

When you were close enough, an arm wrapped around your waist to tug you into him rather unceremoniously. You barely caught yourself from falling into him, hands securely on his broad shoulders and knees on either side of his thighs as he leaned back to admire the view. Before you could bark a complaint, the Doctor cheekily moved his other hand to your neck, grazing a thumb across your sensitive spot before resting it by the juncture of your shoulder, “Hello there. I have a need for your assistance.”

“How may I help you, Doctor?” You reply, breathier than you would’ve preferred and glaringly flustered much to your lover’s delight — one he made no move to hide whatsoever.

“I have an experiment to complete today and I’d like you to take note of my observations. You’ll help me, won’t you?”

The Harbinger let his hand fall from your neck to the small of your back, adjusting his position so his lips were a breath away from yours. You swallow, nodding but forgetting your position so each bob of your head had your lips brushing against his. It’s embarrassing to feel even more heated from such an innocent act.

“Lovely! You’re so precious, truly. That’s why you’re my favorite.”

As if giving a reward or better yet, a treat, for your satisfactory response, the Doctor succumbs to your needy gaze, pressing his lips into yours into a messy kiss. He tilts his head to reach you deeper, and you respond in kind, arching your back to be closer to him. He tastes faintly of alcohol — the strong kind and the realization that there was never an “enough” came to you like a life-changing discovery. You wanted to be so, so close to him that you break the laws of the world and become one with him down to the smallest atom. You want to keep carding your fingers through the silken strands of his hair; keep consuming the minute pain that come with the crescents he digs into your flesh. You want him — need him even in this world already filled with such madness.

The Doctor moves away from your lips, ignoring your whine to relish the way you swallow harshly when he trails a finger down the slope of your neck. He can’t help the way he’s so hyper-fixated on it. It’s beautiful, he thinks, and even more so, the vulnerability it carries and the way a mere touch would leave you with your legs weak. The devilish smile he wore did not go unnoticed but as if sensing your question, the Doctor moves his head like a predator pouncing on prey. A moan spills out of your lips as he sucked on the delicate part of your flesh, proudly looking at the darkening bruise he left when he finished. Gloved fingers trace over it lightly and if you didn't know any better, lovingly. Warmth rushes to your cheeks, almost scalding you as you instinctively straightened your posture. His sharp gaze is on you again. You know it. You feel it even when his eyes are covered by that mask.

“A gift for you, darling, for being such an obedient pet.” A shaky breath leaves your lips and your unfocused eyes followed his hands as he motioned for someone to come closer, “Beta will take care of you for the day. Be good.”

“Is it truly wise to let them partake in the experiment, Prime?” A more high-pitched version of the voice of your lover — similarly much younger — resounded in the room. Though his words were blunt, you sensed no animosity in them.

“I’d love to deal with this myself but Regrator’s request is not one to be left ignored for long. Besides, our darling here knows better than to doze off while doing something important, isn’t that right?”

You nod mindlessly, withdrawing from Prime’s grip to stand beside Beta who had been watching the whole exchange curiously, “If that is your decision, then I won’t question you further. You should know what you’re doing.”

The older segment merely huffed in amusement before waving you off, though, that is not without a final warning towards his younger segment.

“Not to worry.” he grins in reply, similar but rather crazed as his gaze turns to you. “The absolute pursuit for knowledge is not our only similarity.”

The nerves that swelled in you quickly quieted down when Beta reaches down to clasp your hands, entangling them before pressing a lingering kiss on the back of yours. It was innocent enough, if not for the familiar cloud in his exposed eye. The thought of what you cannot comprehend, but anticipate regardless, brings a small shiver down your spine. Whether that is out of excitement or fear is a question you cannot quite answer in your current state of mind.

Prime raises a brow before laughing though the deadly glint in his eyes did not go unnoticed by his younger counterpart, “How curious, indeed. I’ll allow such a ludicrous fantasy but learn your place. I do not like sharing what is mine.”

When you feel his gaze on your skin again, you swiftly look down in fear of how you’ll react. His eyes always left you feeling uneasy — like he could decipher every secret you hold no matter how hard you try to hide them. How deep your affection for the madman runs, for example, is a secret you’d rather be left unsaid. At least for the time being when you are unsure of how far you’ve fallen from sanity yourself.

“Fascinating how love runs you mad,” Dottore mutters before grinning once more, ego practically oozing off his figure as he leans back into his chair, “Off you go now, darling. We shall continue our exchange later.”

。PANTALONE — “ regrator | number nine ”

Regrator was a generous man if you were one of those he favors.

One stray gaze is all it takes for him to wave his hand, adorned with silver rings that glint under the afternoon sun. Albeit wordless, the merchant immediately scampered away, hands clumsily packing the object in haste as if he had a blade pressed against his neck. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to being spoiled like this. Subconsciously, your hand reached out for his luxury fur coat, gripping it to catch his attention. Your hold was weak; both shy and wary, knowing full well that the fabric likely costs more than your entire existence.

The Harbinger averts his piercing gaze from the merchant and down to you, his empty smile shifting into something softer as he caught sight of your fumbling form, “What is it, my dear?”

“Thank you for being so generous, milord.”

Yes, Regrator was a most generous man for his darling and he had taught you very well to never decline the kindness he seldom spares. He’d much rather receive your thanks and your most precious gaze — bashful and awe-filled. He tilts your head with his fingers, appreciating the heat that seeps through his leather gloves.

“Of course, anything for you. But then,” his eyes crack open to peer at you slyly. Oh, how lovely you are… “what do we do again in this situation?”

Cued, you take his wrist in your hand as leverage before standing on your toes to press a kiss on his cheeks. Gloss stains the spot you touched and as you moved to swipe it off, the Ninth turns his face to press a kiss just above where your pulse beats. Your body trembles at his attention, and when you tried to take a step back to regain your composure, Pantalone immediately catches you by the waist. He leans closer, smile unchanging even as his breath brushed over your cheeks.

“Do not stray too far away from me, dearest. It’s rather cold outside.” A noise of acknowledgment escapes your lips as you glance back at the merchant who was silently gawking at you two with his hand outstretched. “Ah, yes. Guards—”

One of the many Fatuus under him soundlessly took his newest purchase, tossing Mora carelessly into the merchant who scrambled to pick it up from the snow-dusted street of Snezhnaya. Some foreign emotion swells beneath your ribs as you stare at the man kneeling before you. Right, beside the Ninth Harbinger, the rest of the world seems just a little short of being completely beneath you. He had a way of making everyone feel as if they are unworthy of his presence. In every word, in every breath, in every act, Pantalone radiates an aura so untouchable and glorious that even the shadow he casts over you makes you feel like power flows in your veins more eminently than even the blood that fuels your life.

“Shall we go then? We’ll be late for our appointment.”

And you rejoice in it. You’d place his pedestal above the gods if it’s what it takes to continue basking under the heat of his ambition. You’d follow him to hell and back if it meant that you can continue to bear witness to his incomparable splendor. This maddening pursuit is what makes you take his hand in yours, letting him lead you to the finest clothesmaker in the nation.

“Lord Harbinger! Please, take a seat here while I prepare drinks for you and your guest!”

It takes but a tug before his coat is undone and passed to one of his men and but a stride before he is sat majestically on the soft, red couch, one leg over the other as he peers over you through the edges of his glasses, “Go on then, dear. Shop to your heart’s delight.”

Admiration makes your eyes gloss over as you follow one of the shop assistants into the changing room. Sending one last glance towards his casual form, only one thought races in your mind: he’s beautiful. The skin-tight suit moves with each flex of his muscle while his dark hair pools along his shoulders like the waterfalls of Fontaine. He’s beautiful and he knows it, just as he knows you’ve been eyeing him as you disappear behind the curtain. It fills the Ninth with pride and adoration, as well as — he chuckles under his breath — the sensual desire to bring you to your tears as you approach nirvana. He was greedy, after all, and his greed shows most when it comes to the most glorious sight he has set his eyes on.

The thing about the Harbinger is that he knows what he wants and he quite finds violets and blues quite ravishing on your body. The need to please him fills you like your own greed as you immediately ask to see all such clothing. He’s got you quite comfortably dancing in his palm and the electricity that shakes your heart proves that there’s no place you’d rather be.

The clock ticks and with each second, Regrator’s finger taps mindlessly on the armchair. He exhales slowly, finding that he quite likes this and that he should make a habit out of taking you out to buy out shops more often. He has done his share of shopping, idly turning the pages of a catalog as he points here and there for the shop owner to take note of. Diamonds, pearls, and his favorite, Alexandrite — he spared nothing as he chose pieces of jewelry to add to both yours and his collection. The mere thought had him reeling in thinly veiled excitement.

His attention snaps to you as soon as he heard footsteps approach. Immediately, his smirk widens and you instinctively retreat to yourself as you feel his eyes trace over every inch of your frame, “You look ravishing, doll.”

You sent him a wobbly smile in reply.

“Won’t you give me a twirl?” Obediently, you did as told. Your embarrassment grows as you hear Pantalone mutter sweet compliments under his breath, “Truly my most prized jewel. Come here for me.”

For some reason, each step toward him felt like a step toward your demise. Then again, if this is what demise feels like, you’d gladly welcome it with open arms. Regrator makes you sit in between his leg, hand gripping both of your cheeks before catching your puckered lips into his own. The aggression was new — though not unwanted because that you drank all up. So close, you could smell the dizzying scent of his perfume. It was something along the lines of ambroxan and bergamot, you think as he slid his hand up your thigh. Teeth clashing, love crazy, and so, wonderfully messy. Pantalone’s desire washes over you like an ocean wave and sends you crashing down into the deepest depths of your mind. He’s your obsession and when he leaves your lips to insert a new ring on your finger, vibrant color matching the deep hue of your blouse, you seek him out once again with a rekindled need to drink up every last drop of him.

。SCARAMOUCHE — “ the balladeer | number six ”

The Balladeer had always been a horrible liar, you muse to yourself, as you sneakily eyed him from your corner in his office. Sure, he can fix his expression on a whim — a perfect face accentuating his words that seemed kind enough at first glance. Though perhaps, one of the rewards of being able to worm your way into his empty heart was noticing how his eyes are too expressive for his own good. Maybe that’s why he chooses to crinkle them shut whenever he smiles or why he’s so quick to avert his gaze when you peered deep into his soul after each profession of love. He's such a bad liar or maybe, you’ve just learned to read him too well.

Even now as he busied himself with signing some paperwork Lord Pierro required, he was so easy to read. His fingers tapped rapidly into his desk and his eyes fleeted from his work to the corner of his table. It wouldn’t take long before he snaps and not even a minute later — just as you anticipated, his gaze soon zeroed into you, mouth forming a snarl that would have any regular Fatuus running away with their tail in between their legs.

“Will you stop gawking at me like some kind of cretin?!”

“Why?” You smirk in reply, completely unbothered by his insults and crossing your legs as you spot the beginnings of a blush on his skin. “Do I make you nervous, Lord Harbinger?”

“Nervous? Hah, are you hearing yourself? Why would I be nervous at the sight of you?”

You stood up then, footsteps loud and clear as you approach him from his place by his desk. You leaned closer, delighting in the fact that Scaramouche instinctively retreated farther into his chair to place some distance between you two. “Why don’t you tell me, Scaramouche? Maybe this time you’d be willing to admit how far you’ve fallen for me?”

“Shut up.”

And yet despite his glare, the Harbinger made no move to push you away. If anything, he seemed as if he was expecting something as he gulped nervously, eyes flickering from your mischievous eyes and down to where your most enticing lips remained frozen into an innocent grin. You knew what he was thinking. He was so easy to read, after all. He wanted to be kissed senseless and perhaps, that was your fault. After all, this is far from being the first time such a conversation happened, and all the other times, you always made sure to fix his attitude by shutting him up in the most effective way you knew.

“Hm… You’re really so cute, honey,” you laugh as you move closer to him, nails digging into his files as you watched his eyes flutter close, “but you’re so much cuter when you try to bite me.”

With that, you abruptly pulled away, snickering when Scaramouche’s eyes blow wide open the moment he heard you take a step back, “You-! What do you think you’re playing at?!”

“I don’t know, what did you want from me? If you tell me, I’d happily give it to you. You have me so weak, after all...”

The Sixth doesn't reply, only glaring at you fiercely as his blush grew brighter. You could see the way his fingers dug into his palm and for a moment, you wondered if you teased him too much this time. Before you could utter a word of concern, you gasped as a pale hand clutched your collar and tugged you harshly forward. You were about to curse Scaramouche when he suddenly crashed his lips into yours, eliciting a small squeak from you before you relax into his hold naturally.

Why would the Balladeer ever be gentle? His grip on your clothes was tight, making sure you won’t pull away as he took what it was that he desires. He always gets what he wants and right now, he wants the aftertaste of the tea he brewed to quench the thirst that leaves a gaping void in his insides. That’s why he didn’t think twice before leaning even more forward into his desk, spare palm firmly pressed against the polished, wooden frame, body bending, and mind reeling at the way your hands fell from his hair to his nape. Do you always have to be intoxicating? His eyes welled up from feeling so overwhelmed yet wanting more, more, more and more until he's positive that you've broken him down completely. He parts his lips, letting your tongue trace around his mouth as if claiming territory that you should know, without saying, is yours. Ironically, his lips are soft and they glide along yours like silk — so much so that you can barely bring yourself to leave.

A groan escapes his lips as you pull on his hair, exposing his bare skin to you. “Pretty boy… This time, will you tell me what you want?”

Your blown-out eyes make him release a shaky breath, “You… I want your love.”

The smile that decorated your face was involuntary and you moved to massage his scalp that you had previously been cruel on. Peppering kisses on his cheek, you adored the way Scaramouche tried to subtly nuzzle into the hand you cupped his face with.

“What’s with that request?” You finally replied as you met his forehead with yours. “It’s not smart to ask for something you already have.”

“All of it,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze but voicing no complaint when you gently turned his face back to yours.

“All of it?”

He huffs, faking the haughty demeanor he always had but you knew. His hopeful eyes cannot hide a single thing from you, especially not when he closes the distance between you two again. “Yeah… From now on, only look at me. Don’t leave me, not even for a second.”

。TARTAGLIA — “ childe | number eleven ”

Tartaglia’s youth oozes into his love — into the way he would giggle as he takes you in his strong arms, lifting you up before twirling you around, and into the way he would excitedly present you with matching articles for you to wear. He never fails to warm you up with innocent bliss even when you’re play wrestling with him for the last piece of candy. He's the purest sense of joy you’ve ever had the pleasure of possessing and if you could ever share even a fragment of how you make him feel, you’d do it in a heartbeat. That’s how you ended up here: hiding behind his couch in between his younger siblings like you were once again seven and buzzing with the childish exuberance stolen from you by adulthood.

It had not been easy hiding your exploits from the sharp eyes of your lover. He was trained to spot every minute detail and you don’t claim yourself to be the most careful secret holder out there. By some miracle (and partly because he was often out doing business), you were able to hide the surprise from him. It was July 20 and you both were lucky enough to be assigned to be on standby in your home country for his birthday.

You snap out of your thoughts when the door creaks open and the heavy footsteps of his boot-clad feet permeated the air, “Ma? Pa? Are you home?”

Tartaglia — or Ajax as he prefers to be called inside the four corners of his residence mumbles something about how they were all probably out fishing as he dusted off the snow in his hair. Beside you, Teucer stifled a giggle as he found the irony in his words to be quite entertaining. You turned your gaze towards his mother who nodded as a signal.

“1,” You count under your breath as you repositioned the confetti in your hands. For the sake of everyone’s safety, you advised against the ones that make a loud, popping sound and all his older siblings agreed solemnly, “2, 3!”

“Happy Birthday!”

Ajax flinched in surprise, fingers nearly summoning his bow before he recognized your warm smile. With that, the sudden tension in his body was released and he laughed loudly, catching his younger brother in his arms when he ran up to him, “Woah there! Who would have ever guessed that you’d all sneak behind my back like that?”

“You’re welcome, brother,” Tonia rolls her eyes teasingly as she approached with a birthday cake that his mother baked herself.

“Yeah, yeah… Thank you very much lil’ sis. Your kindness will not remain unpaid.”

You snort as your lover faux curtsied, dodging the halfhearted slap of his equally amused sister. A cough made you turn your head to your left, meeting the weary eyes of his father who muttered his thanks for looking after his son.

“It’s no trouble at all,” you turn your gaze just in time to meet his curious one, “I’m just trying to give him what he always deserved and more.”

His older brother who was listening in made a joke of not knowing how his annoying little brother managed to catch someone like you but before you could reply, a pair of familiar arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his chest, “Not speaking ill of the birthday boy, I hope?”

“Nothing new now, isn't it?”

His family greeted him one by one before they left to give you some space under the guise of helping arrange the dinner spread. His warm breath caressed the side of your neck as he hummed happily, swaying you side to side by the beat of his own making. By the chorus, he twirls you around before pulling you back in and grinning at the way you automatically looped your arms around his neck.

“Happy Birthday, baby,” you murmur before pressing a quick peck on his lips.

“Mhmm…” Ajax pulls you impossibly closer by the waist as he grins, eyes bright and youthful now that he had you in his embrace, “So this is why you’ve been acting weirdly this past week?”

“You noticed?”

He laughs lightly at that, pulling back an arm just to flick your forehead, “Baby, it’s impossible not to notice every single thing about you.”

“Damn, you’re so in love with me.”

You lean closer and Ajax, always so willing to be pulled into everything about you, follows in kind with a proud smirk. “Damn right I am.”

Tartaglia’s youth oozes into his love — into the way his deep kisses are never just passionate but also fun. He giggles under his breath like a young teenager in love, fingers drawing shapes on your bare skin as he slides his hand innocently under your shirt. His hands are warm, you realize, and goosebumps follow the trail of his touch without any effort. You could feel the curve of his smile against your own at this, and joy bubbles in your heart and into your throat until you can’t help but whisper an “I love you” as you part briefly for air.

“I love you,” he says back, hand withdrawing from your back to your head as he tugs you closer into him, “so much.”

Ajax dips back in, abandoning the gentleness he usually reserves for you. Instead, he embraces the lust in him — the part that craves the mess and the victory that lies after complete domination. He fights you for power, ignoring the needy whimpers that escaped you as you succumb to your faith. All he does is pull you closer and closer until close loses its meaning and you’re all but one and the same. The force that comes from his heady sigh sends you stepping back but he follows — he chases after you until you’re backed and sat on the sofa’s backrest. Ajax wastes no time slotting himself in between your legs as you scramble to get a grip.

“Well, babe…” He grins with a near-crazed expression. His chest rises up and down rapidly as he tried to chase the breath he lost in your exchange, “You better hope you’re ready to take every drop of my love tonight.”

TAGLIST / be added or removed here

@genshiningg @serenareiss @cloudybillows @abblebabble @scaraslover @ttaechi @sugarysylz @favonius-captain @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lowilaufeyson @starforecasts @pumpikun @fiannee @nejibot

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#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #capitano x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #scaramouche x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin scenario #genshin imagine #gi x reader #—𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 #—𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 #genshin fluff

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soapymansuds · 7 months

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OKOKOK, I just saw a Reel that gave me this idea and it’s rotting me from the inside out so I’m giving this to you. You’re welcome ig?

Tags!!!! SWF, Ghost, Soap,Price, Gaz, Male Reader, Motorcyclist Reader, The circus??, Use of Y/N, He/Him pronouns, Spelling errors, Grammar errors, was written in the middle of the night, Author is still getting used to Tumblr formatting please be gentle with him, OOC

It had been a long few months. Between missions, paperwork, and training, the team barely had time to rest. So seeing as the latest pile of papers was dissipating and nothing particularly interesting seemed to be happening, Captain had an idea.

“You’re kidding, right?” Ghost chides from his seat in the commons with a disapproving tilt of his head.

“No, no I am not. We’re going to the circus.” Price grins, arms wide as if attempting to force the boys to accept the idea. “C’mon, we’ve been working so hard, we deserve a quick break, and this seems like the perfect opportunity. Nothing takes your mind off things like overpriced beer and overly fried foods.”

“Well I for one, m’excited! I havnae been to the circus since I was a tot.” Soap claps, standing to join his captain in rousing the troops. His first order being to clap Gaz on the shoulder in encouragement. He shakes his head with a chuckle but stands with them anyway sighing, “Hell, why not.”

They all stare expectantly at Ghost, who pinches the bridge of his nose with a shake of his head before standing up with a groan. “Fine.”

“Alright.” Price claps his hands in front of himself. “Let’s get going then.” He grins, squeezing Ghost’s shoulder appreciatively.

~time skip~

As they finish parking and piling out of the Jeep, Gaz takes a moment to acknowledge the obvious. “More of an arena than a tent, dontcha think?”

“More airflow I s’pose.” Soap shrugs, slinging an arm over Ghost’s shoulder as they find the entrance.

Once inside, the stench of grease and children floods their noses, but Gaz seems to be the only one fazed, with a gentle shake of his head as if he could shoo the smell away.

“Right, well I’m off to find the booze. Have fun lads.” Price grins, tipping his hat as he wanders off. Gaz is next as he spots the rows of carnival games, walking off silently towards the sharp shooter game.

“So what catches your eye L.T.?” Soap nudges Ghost, who seems uninterested in anything really. He shrugs as they keep walking, searching for something to stare at until he’s allowed to leave. The hum of a motor catches his attention as they near a crowd circled around a fence. The closer they get, the more they can see. A ramp, a hoop, a big metal ball, and a motorcycle. But to their surprise, the motorcycle seems to be driving itself, nearly hitting the ground and it spins in circles on its side. The bike is pearly white, prismatic reflections dancing in the sunlight as it moves.

“Oh! A trick rider! Always wanted to be one when I was young.” Soap pulls Ghost closer to the rail to get a better view. As they approach, they notice the rider. A man a bit shorter than the two, fully covered in red and black leather gear with a matte black helmet. His visor is golden and stretches oddly to his chin unlike a normal helmet. ( https://images.app.goo.gl/UKZg4c2wA4JpYGkt9 for reference)

He raises his arms at the applause, and despite not seeing his face, you can tell he’s smiling. Suddenly, the bike changes course, bumping off a ramp and steadying itself upright. It points straight at the rider and keeps moving like it’s going to hit him. He doesn’t seem to notice and the crowd erupts, desperate to warn him of the danger. As they start screaming, he looks over his shoulder, and within inches of his life, he grabs the bike by the handles. He bounces into the air, standing upside down above the handles. The crowd cheers louder still as he spins the bike around, and falls beautifully into the seat. He skids to a stop mere inches from the boundary. Mere inches from where Soap and Ghost stand. Soap’s grin, wide and dopey, seems to draw him in.

He takes a moment to size them up before nodding, seemingly to himself, and waving them in. Beckoning them past the border and towards himself as he turns the bike back towards the center of the ring. They stand for a moment, unsure what to do before he nods his head inward once more and they hop the steel rail.

He takes a moment as they enter to hype the crowd for their arrival as if they were planning to be their from the beginning. He then leases them to the huge metal ball, swerving in front of them to drop the ramp and ride in. They stand outside the dome, but Soap’s smile never falters. Even as the rider waves them into the sphere.

As they get in, the rider drops his kickstand and hops off the bike, both to close the door and to talk to his new “assistants”

He lifts his visor just barely as he turns back to them. “Alrighty boys! Welcome to the Doom Dome!” He raises his arms and the crowd follows with avid cheering. “There are a couple of rules, and most of them are Do. Not. Move. Got it?” He grins and it’s just barely noticeable under his visor.

“Sir, yes Sir.” Soap laughs with a goofy salute. Ghost simply nods. The rider tilts his head at him with a floppy smirk, trying to decide if he’s unamused or just the quiet type.

“Words, Big Boy. I gotta know you’re hearing me.” He extends a hand, an attempt at breaking the tension. “I’m Y/N. And you are…?”

Ghost seems vaguely taken aback by the statement, but shakes his hand on instinct, mumbling out “Ghost.”

“Ghost!” The rider calls at the crowd and the scream in excitement. “Anddd…?” He reaches for the other man’s hand, who takes it, grinning like an idiot. “Call me Johnny.”

“Johnny!” The crowd roars again. “Alright boys, I need you back to back. Can I put my hands on yah for a sec?” He hold his arms up just barely before both men nod at him. “What did I say about using your words?” He juts his hip dramatically, crossing his arms with a giggle. Both men respond “Yes sir.” quicker than even they had expected.

“Atta boys!” He grins, placing a hand on both of their chests and maneuvering them to be back to back. Once he’s satisfied with their position, he swing a leg back over his bike. “Now don’t move. Kay?” He gives them a thumbs up, which they return, and he slaps his visor down. He swings his arms up to instigate the crowd, successfully causing them to starts screaming. Ghost notices for a moment that the crowd has nearly doubled since they left it, and he finds himself grateful to be in here not out there. But the though doesn’t last long as a tire is suddenly directly in his view. It spins wildly for a moment before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. He feels the wind as the bike loops around him, adrenaline playing with his nerves just slightly. He can feel the excitement radiating off Soap in waves, and as he turns over his shoulder, he’s sees the exact wide eyed slack jawed look he was expecting. Soaps eyes trace the biker’s every move like a dog following a treat and Ghost can’t help but chuckle. As he turns back to facing forward, he flinched back just barely, as a hand reaches off the bikes handle and reaches down to tap his nose lightly as he passes. He follows the hand as it reaches out for Soap, ruffling his Mohawk as he circles.

His hand lifts back up to the bike as he begins looping vertically. The motor roars in both their ears as the bike does loop after gravity defying loop and Ghost can feel himself grin at the dizzying sensation of it all.

As the bike slows down, eventually stopping in the same place it started, the crowd goes wild. He drops the kick stand again and opens the door of the dome, waving for Ghost and Johnny to follow him. They do as instructed and he leads them to halfway between the crowd and the dome. As he stops, he fidgets with the underside of his helmet before sliding it off completely.

Soap can’t help but stare at him, hair tussled from the helmet, smile stretched ear to ear as he takes both their hands in each of his and raises them to the crowd. As if declaring them victorious. They defeated the Doom Dome. The crowd continues to scream as he lowers both their arms and steps forward to thank them. Soap looks ver the smaller man to Ghost, who shares an understanding look. This guy was down right pretty and neither one knew what to do about it. But as the crowd dies down and wanders off, he turns back to them, grin as wide as ever.

“Y’all did great!” He laughs, picking up his helmet. “You ever done that before?” I tilts his head curiously and the boys can’t help but think he looks like a puppy. All dopey grinned and doe eyed.

Soap answers first. “Na, we’ve never been in a Doom Done before, but it’s been my dream since I was a wee tyke! Wanted to be jus like you when I grew up.” He laughs, ruffling his hair a touch.

“Woah! Y’all ain’t from around here, are yah? Is that Scottish I’m hearing?” His eyes grow impossibly bigger.

This time, Ghost speaks. “Yeah, we’re just visiting.” And Y/N’s head tilts towards him.

“Oh! Well it was real nice of y’all to stop by our little circus!” His eyes close appreciatively. “Hey, I tell you what. You boys seem nice. And you said you wanted to be a rider when you were a kid, yeah? Here. Have my number, in case y’all ever wanna learn to ride! I got a couple o’ old practice bikes in storage. I’m sure they’d be happy see some use!” He pats himself down a moment, before pulling out a pair of business cards and holding them out to each of them.

Soap takes it gladly, and while Ghost is vaguely more apprehensive, he takes it anyway was Soap beams at the card. “I think I’ll have to take you up on that!”

“Please do! I’ve got to skedaddle, but it was real nice meeting you boys! Come back any time, Kay?” He waves as he wanders back to his bike and walks it out of the arena.

~I don’t know how to end this, so this is it. Xoxo, K.O.~

#ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost x male reader #soap x male reader #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #cod x male reader

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love-fictional-ppl · 1 month

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Petite!fem!reader w/ a high metabolism

Part 1

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Summary: this is part 2 to a request. reader goes off on “almond mom” for judging her for eating while out w her man🤞

Pairings: Sabo x reader, Trafalgar D. Water Law x reader

Warnings: language, Karens, mentions of sex, drinking, food (obviously), characters are kinda ooc

A/N: this was requested so long ago and I genuinely feel horrible for how long you have had to wait for a part 2. I hope that you atleast enjoy this @babbiebooc

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Sabo:

Tbh he finds it cute

Is that bitch that compares it to his little brother

Will ask you if you ate or if you’re hungry

Doesn’t fuss too much about your eating since he knows you can handle yourself

The revolutionary army had sent troops to an island village. You and Sabo at the moment had plenty of downtime.

“Sabooooo, I’m hungryyyy,” you whine.

“Let’s go get a bite to eat then,” Sabo replies. Wandering around looking for a tavern or restaurant, you finally spot a tavern.

You and Sabo find a spot to sit, out of the way but able to observe who came in and out. You were especially hungry today having ate nothing all day. You decided you didn’t mind spending money since you had just gotten paid.

Sabo ordered himself something to eat and a drink. You both chat and enjoyed your food and each other’s presence.

After a moment you noticed the slight frown on Sabo’s face. You sat and listened for a second and heard a woman talking with her family.

“It baffles me how some women can’t even have the decency to use proper table manners in front of their men,” you were fuming hearing her words.

Before you could do anything, Sabo spoke up, “And it baffles me you don’t even have the decency to talk about somebody you don’t know out of earshot.”

The woman looked flushed and overall embarrassed, nonetheless she went back to eating silently this time.

You couldn’t help feeling butterflies after seeing Sabo stick up for you.

“You know, that was really hot,” you told him.

“Was it?” He responded, cheeky.

“Why don’t we head on out of here?”

Sabo didn’t respond, he simply set down a sack full of berries to pay. He then, grabbed your hand pulled you and dragged you out the place.

Trafalgar D. Water Law:

He doesn’t really care honestly

In his opinion eating is healthy therefore if you wanna eat a entire buffet, knock yourself out

He only finds it odd that you eat so much but barely put on 2 pounds

Thinks ur stomach is a wormhole

You were hungry and wanted to get something to eat, Law originally wasn’t gonna come but then after 10 minutes he decided to join you.

You browsed the market set up in the town considering cooking something yourself, then you spotted a restaurant with the best looking desserts.

Law wandered off to go find a bar but promised he would return. In the meantime you decided to order yourself almost the entire menu.

While you were busy chowing down on a chocolate cake u hear a woman talking a few little girls. Maybe her daughter and her friends?

You hear the withered looking woman say, “You see how she’s sitting alone, that’s for a reason. Eat like that and you’ll be just like her when you’re big girls.”

You started tearing up out of frustration. “Actually you witch, there’s a reason why I eat the way I do. And I’m not alone, thank you very much, I have a boyfriend who will be here any minute. When he does get here me and him will be leaving to go have sex, have a good day.” You slammed the money on the table, oblivious to the fact Law had just witnessed the whole thing.

You heard Law say something like stupid cunt and turned around to see him glaring at the woman.

You almost started sobbing out of relief to see him. Law stared back at you with a relaxed smile and calmly asked, “so are we gonna go have sex?”

Laughing uncontrollably, you reply, “hell yes.”

Smiling like idiots, you walk back to the ship hand in hand.

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A/N: ok so I was gonna include kid but my tumblr is glitching where every time I save the draft it deletes his part😭😭

#one piece sabo #one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #revolutionary sabo #flame emperor sabo #sabo x reader #one piece law #trafalgar d law x reader

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thetravelingtyper · 1 month

Text

Our Shattered Heart Interlude (Part 2.50) JP (GN! 'Heart' Reader x Taskforce 141)

Loading Track 2 - Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight) by Abba (Johnathan Price One Shot). Called to base to finish up paperwork, you and your Captain spend some time together.

Warning: Possible OOC, Suggestive Content, fluff

Part 1, Part 2, Part 2.25, Part 2.75 Masterlist

Half-past twelve

And I'm watching the late show in my flat all alone

How I hate to spend the evening on my own

Autumn winds

Blowing outside the window as I look around the room

And it makes me so depressed to see the gloom

It was dark on base by the time you got there. Price had called you to base to discuss some things with Laswell, trying to close up the intel work before you got back into missions. In common clothes, you padded into the rec room. The few people who were awake gave you nods and then went back to their activities. You felt good being back on base, even if it was just for the night.

You made it to your room around 11:00 pm. Johnny and Kyle had wanted to come back to base with you but Simon pulled them into intel work. You smile, you and Simon had fallen asleep in your bed and the man for once slept heavily, past your 9 am alarm and through your call with Price.

There's not a soul out there

No one to hear my prayer

Soft words passed his mouth every once in a while causing you to giggle quietly. Price questioned you.

“Simon is asleep John.” The man on the other side of the phone chuckled, he turned in his work to lean back against his chair. He was happy he realized then. With you, his Lieutenant, Laswell for assigning this mission, hell even the intel for a moment. Your rushing out that night just cemented the boys' attachment to and claim of your heart.

“That's good, can you come to base tonight love? I want to finish up some work with you here.”

You hum an affirmative and John lets you go, waiting eagerly for you to arrive.

You are sorting through stuff when there is a knock at your door. You open it to find a Corporal, a woman a little younger than you, who had served a few missions under your command. She holds a bouquet with a Welcome Back! Ribbon and a bag. You cock your head but she gives you a hesitant smile before offering you the flowers. You then smile and step aside, inviting her in.

“Corporal Jennings.”

She eyes your room in wonder, knives (clearly) from the famous lieutenant are embedded in a target board. There are other souvenirs from your service both in America and with the 141. Truth be told, she thought you were one of the favorite Sergeants on base. When she heard about your injury she was worried but word got out you were returning soon, her friend had sent a message that night that Heart had returned so she was quick to bring something.

You go to your joined bathroom with Gaz and fill a vase with water. Returning, you find Jennings waiting by the table nervously. You nod to her to sit down.

“I don’t bite Corporal, I promise.” At that she exhales with a stuttered laugh, the tension finally draining from her body. You set the flowers at the center of the table, you take a seat across from her, and speak.

“How can I help you, Jennings?”

“You can call me Amanda, Sergeant,” she says “if you like!” You nod to her. You are happy she is comfortable with you. You enforce command when leading troops but comradery is important to you.

“Have you eaten?” She asks then. You shake your head and she excitedly pulls out some food. The smell emanates throughout the room and you take it in. There is a subtle spice that has your mouth watering.

“I heard you might be back today so I made some curry. I remembered you ordering some after the last mission.” She says it shyly and offers you one of two containers. You nod a smile quirking on your face as you take the container opening it to find a generous portion of rice and homemade curry.

She opens her own and offers you a spoon which you take with a hearty thanks. You take a bite and are in heaven. You hum a delightful note and Amanda smiles, her eyes brightening in a way. You smiled, she was really pretty but you shook the thought from your head.

“This is wonderful!”

“It is my wife’s recipe!”

You look at her nodding your pleasure.

“She's lucky to have you.” You say. It reminded you of Kyle’s cooking. The man often would cook for the five of you on missions.

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight

Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight

Take me through the darkness to the break of the day

She smiles brightly at the statement. She seems to think a moment before nodding.

“Thanks to you! The first mission I ran under you when you first came she and I met. It was you who partnered us together!”

You thought for a moment then it hit you! On that mission, you had paired Amanda with a dark-haired woman named Corporal Smith. The two had been eyeing each other and when they talked they got along swimmingly. You return her smile.

“I remember.” You say and she nods.

“It's been a few months and I have never been happier.” She says with a fond sigh, hand reaching to her dog tags to show you a silver and gold ring. You nod in appreciation and congratulate her.

Movie stars

Find the end of the rainbow with a fortune to win

It's so different from the world I'm living in

Tired of TV

I open the window and I gaze into the night

But there's nothing there to see, no one in sight

You spend most of the following hour just talking and enjoying her company. But as 12 soon hits she yawns and you pause the conversation.

“Time for bed?” You ask humor lacing your voice.

Amanda nods, collecting the empty container before standing. She gives another glance around your room, then sees a photo of you and the 141. She approaches it and examines it with a soft, knowing look. She then turns to you with that look.

“You and them huh?” She smiles, eyebrows raising in suggestion while you are put on the spot. However surprised, you don't sense anything but acceptance from her and you smile.

“Something like that.” Is all you manage while she nods.

“I understand, I am happy for you Sergeant!” She says it then turns to the door. You walk her to the door of your room and offer her a side hug. She takes it happily before opening the door and leaving with a fond ‘good night Sergeant.’

There's not a soul out there

No one to hear my prayer

You stretch, wondering where your captain was, he had mentioned getting you. You admire the flowers. Sunflowers, a sign of loyalty, and yellow roses, meaning friendship. The smell of them is sweet as you take a sunflower and lay down in bed staring at the ceiling.

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight

Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight

Take me through the darkness to the break of the day

You hadn’t realized you'd dozed off until there was a knock at your door. You open your eyes, slip out of bed, and to the door, sunflower still in hand. You open the door to find Price. You open the door and step aside for him to enter but he just stares down at your hand, eyes tracing the golden orange hue of the sunflower. His eyes then scan your room, seeing the chairs moved and the bouquet.

Your eyes follow his and there is a sudden pit in your stomach when he wordlessly steps in and closes your door. He then looks down at you, eyes swirling. You reach for him but he grabs your hand instead, his other gently going to the small of your back to pull you closer. He leans into your ear.

“Who was here.” His voice is even, quiet. He wasn't happy but his feelings were more controlled than Simon's. You tuck your head against his chest and answer him.

“Corporal Jennings John, don’t worry she is married.” You look up to him, he holds you close for a second longer before pulling away. His fingers take the sunflower, eyes looking from it to you. He then walks over to the table returning the flower to the others. He then turns back to you.

“Can you work tonight or do we need to sleep.” He asks eyes taking in your room. You shake your head, a little shy with him in your room.

“I can work tonight.”

He nods and then notices your bag. He reaches for and shoulders it.

“Come on dear.”

He leads you out of the room, softly shutting your door and passing down the hall. You walk in comfortable silence before reaching his office. He unlocks the door and allows you to enter the familiar space. Locking the door behind him he offers you his shower. You nod and enter the connected bedroom.

Captain Price’s room is neat, expectidly, and like yours, there are little bits of him scattered around. You drop your guard here smiling at the photos of you and the others next to his bed. He enters after you, setting your stuff on the couch at the other end of the room. He then noticed you in Simon’s shirt. You had taken one and tied it up after Simon and the boys left, finding the cotton and smell of him comforting. You approach your bag and ruffle through your stuff, grabbing a toiletries bag and letting John show you the bathroom.

As you shower John takes a seat in his office. His eyes catch the transfer forms and he frowns something rearing in his chest.

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight

John sat with a glass of Brandy as Simon lounged in a chair across from him. You, Gaz, and Soap were back at the apartment running sources while Ghost slipped away to tackle the real threat, your transfer.

Laswell had put him in contact with someone in America Marine intelligence, where your intel was being shared. The man had regarded Price with high honor after all the 141 had done.

“What can I do for you, Captain.” John stands, and Simon, looks up, unmasked.

“Please call me John. It’s about Sergeant Heart.”

The line goes quiet then he gives an affirmative, listening.

“I want them to remain on the task force,” John says like an order and the line is quiet.

“Their intel has been invaluable but the orders are coming from higher up than I can reach.”

John grits his teeth. The other man seems to sense it and returns with a quick,

“I understand, Laswell explained the situation, John. She has saved my ass so many times, I will see what I can do. I’ll be in touch.” With that the line ends and John’s tense shoulders draw back a little bit.

Simon stands up and rounds the desk, he pulls John in for a steady kiss. Parting Simon speaks,

“Have some faith in Laswell, Captain.”

Price’s thoughts are interrupted by you entering the office in shorts and a sleep shirt. His eyes take in your legs with a light. He shuffles the transfer form under the stack, eyes meeting yours. Your hair is wet and skin dewy from your skincare and the steam from the shower. He turns to some of the intel forms from the village and you both sit down and begin to work in silence.

There's not a soul out there

No one to hear my prayer

The clock reaches an early 4:23 am when John looks up from his work studying your focused face. He calls your name softly and you look up. The moment reminds you of other nights and you stand. You turn to the coffee machine and start to habitually make tea. The moment hits John then. When had he realized he loved you?

A moment like this, he thinks with a fond smile. He stands as you soon bring two glasses of Chamomile tea, his lightly sweetened like he likes it. He takes it from you but sets it and your glass aside. You cock your head at him but he takes you and turns you around to sit you on the desk. Your head comes up to about his shoulder and he then leans into you his hands bracing on either side of you.

You take in his face, between your wild night and now he had shaved. You run a hand over the remaining stubble and John’s eyes darken.

“I love you.” It is you who whispers it like a guarded secret and John's heart hammers in his chest.

“Love, I -” He hadn’t expected it, but steps between your legs and finally kisses you. The kiss is sweet, his hands reaching into your hair. You hook your arms around his neck deepening the kiss. You both part breathless before a soulful laugh leaves your lips and you tuck into John’s neck inhaling the smell of smoke and his cologne. Many late nights you wanted nothing more than to embrace him and now here you were.

His mind drifts back to the transfer and his hold on you tightens. He runs a hand down your body and over your leg, you rumble at the contact.

“Is this ok Love?” John asks as his right hand sits on your thigh, you nod against his chest, cherishing the contact. His hand spreads out engulfing your thigh and he holds himself up with his left.

“Pretty thing.” He mutters it into your shoulder, the sleep shirt exposes some of your neck and collarbone. John brushes a kiss there as you wrap your arms around him. He can almost feel your sleepiness as he chuckles.

“Come on Lovie.” His hands brace under your thighs before he gently lifts you and carries you against his chest into his bedroom. His ability to swipe you up does something to you, and you press an appreciative kiss to his neck. He groans, settling you down on the edge of the bed and kneeling in front of you. He fondly your jaw as you pull your head back. You look at him with half-lidded but mirthful eyes.

“See something you like.” His head turns down towards you a sharpish look in his eye. He is humored but aware of your effect on him.

“Watch it.” He warns half-heartedly, but you instead choose to trace your hand up the arms that hold yours feeling his muscle flex under your touch. He looks at you longingly and pulls back to stand up, your eyes following then widening as John removes his shirt. You take him in as he runs a hand through his hair. He wears his dog tags, the metal gleaming in the lamplight. But it is his form that catches your eye. Not unlike all of the men Price has muscle, abs etched into his skin but it is the body fat that has you sighing appreciatively. You run a hand to his chest as John’s eyes glitter in the low light. You want to drown in them.

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight

Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight

Take me through the darkness to the break of the day

John’s control is legendary, with rage, sorrow, or jealousy. But the sight of you in his bed works its way through him and his heart. Your eyes softly on him he surges forward and meets your lips in a heated kiss. You move backward as he stands then joins you on the bed. His knee goes between your thighs as he traces open-mouthed kisses to the side of your mouth and down your jaw.

“John,” his name comes out as a whisper and it only fuels the fire in the pit of his stomach, he nips then at your jaw, smirking when you gasp underneath him. He parts from you with a breathy, deep laugh.

“Always imagined you ending up here.” You blush at his comment before a smart smirk, You wrap your arms around his neck and yank him down, and he stumbles falling onto your body. You press a heated kiss to his neck then bite, John curses under his breath. Arousal pooling, he feels you kiss the hollow of his neck tenderly before you tuck your head underneath his. John rolls you both over onto your sides. He pulls the covers up and wraps an arm around you. You look up into his eyes to find him with the softest look you have ever seen from him.

He kisses the side of your head then murmurs into your ear,

“I love you too dear.”

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight

Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight

Take me through the darkness to the break of the day

End Track - Taglist:

@ghostlythots, @00ops1e, @rafaelacallinybbay, @iloveslasher, @character---obsessed, @ashy-kit, @fruitymoonbeams-blog, @my-amazing-nerdyness, @star-struck-universe, @br0ken-rec0rds, @buckysjuicyplums, @cod-z

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heavenly--knight · 2 months

Text

Like for a starter from Michael!

18+ only

Rp blogs only

Comment muse if multimuse

Rules apply as usual

Yadda yadda

✨️✨️✨️✨️

#ooc: out of troops

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kingbcwser · 1 month

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//to this day I'm flabbergasted that Jack Black voiced both Bowser and Po

#👑 | out of koopa troops / ooc #👑 | time to go sicko mode / mobile #[ that's my take for today ]

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hd1u · 8 months

Text

My Bowser x reader ideas:

Bowser seeking refuge in your kingdom after he escapes Princess Peach's imprisonment.

Princess Peach using you as Bowser bait cause she's sick of being kidnapped n shit (you're totally into it, tho).

Princess Peach x reader x Bowser? I've literally got nothing else cuz I've had Bowser brainrot for a few months now, but omg..... 🫣

This is probably the one I like the most, and the one I've put the most thought into (under cut):

While Bowser is still in Princess Peach's captivity, you wander around his kingdom just cause you think it's cool and like, who's gonna stop you anywayz?

Eventually Kamek and the rest of the Koopa Troop notice you, but they don't really care because they're too busy trying to figure out how to aid Bowser in his escape, along with running the kingdom without him (I'd imagine that mostly lies on Kamek).

You figure hey, you dig this place, and you're bored as hell. Why don't you just become the new ruler for a little while? And that's what you propose to them.

They decide to entertain you, knowing that a random little human isn't gonna be able to do much harm anyway. They don't expect it to go much farther than being an inside joke, but they're surprised when they find out that they actually... Like you? And you're kind of good at this? And it's kind of nice to not have a huge fire-breathing beast with anger issues over their shoulders all the time??? Kamek is also enjoying his much needed break, so it just ends up not being a joke anymore. You're just their ruler now, and they're chill with it.

Anyway, when Bowser inevitably gets out, drama ensues, and it's kind of like a weird custody battle. Reader and him start off on a really bad foot, and they consider each other enemies at first. The only thing that stops Bowser from murking you on the spot is Kamek (lucky, lucky you!), and it is very physical. We're talking movie Bowser here so, he doesn't really care about what's best for his kingdom or what they want fr.

Anyway, a lot of the Koopa Troop really, really like you, but they are also loyal to their king, and let's be real: some of the troop could probably go without Bowser, but that simply isn't allowed. So, you guys basically have to co-parent the troop, even though you hate each other. They even pick a favorite "parent," lol.

Obviously the relationship will escalate to more of a romantic one once you guys really get to talking and interacting or whateva... and yeah.

There's still a lot for me to figure out like, where does this reader even come from? What draws them to the Koopa Kingdom? Do the Koopa Troop aid Bowser in his escape, or do they get carried away with you being their ruler and he ends up having to escape himself?

Lots for me to think about, and lots of plot holes to fill... but I wanted to know what you guys think of this. Is it something you'd be interested in reading? Does anything already seem inaccurate our OOC?

Oh and btw, if you wanna use some of these ideas in your own works, I don't care!!! Go crazy with it! I'm not necessarily new to writing fanfiction, but I've never been particularly good at it so... if I never end up writing these ideas into real stories, I really don't want them to go to waste! I'm going to try my best, but y'know... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I think it'd be fun to see others takes on these prompts anyway.

I really love Bowser, and there is not enough x reader fanfiction to satisfy me. I just had to post something... I'm going crazy!!!!!!!!! Feral, even! Help me!! 😩

#bowser #bowser x reader #bowser x y/n #super mario bros movie #smb movie #smb #mario movie #bowser fanfiction #super mario x reader #king bowser #bowser x you #super mario movie x reader #tryin to find my ppl 😤#my writing

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m1d-45 · 1 year

Text

wandering

summary: my scaramouche pulls, but make it sagau

word count: 1.8k

-> warnings: minor spoilers for sumeru (3.2) archon quest, author has not done 3.2 archon quest but had been spoiled by tumblr :/, probably ooc scara. based entirely on me and my prior pulls (pulled miko, pulled + built childe, has an itto), like two swear words?

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3

< masterlist >

scaramouche didn’t know what to think of the stars.

he’d kept an eye on them, out of curiosity, watching as constellations rose and fell, rose and fell, their cyclical nature never ending. he never saw any importance in them—not even when he heard of the forest watcher in sumeru being used as a vessel and his glass heart twisted—and hence never paid any attention, focusing on his mission in sumeru. he kept a passing eye on them, sometimes trying to guess how long the current rotation would be up during particularly boring fatui meetings, or trying to guess which constellations would light up when the stars began to fall.

after a while, he began to pay a little more attention to the patterns. he didn’t know why, but suddenly they drew him in more, even as he rolled his eyes whenever tartaglia boasted about a star crossing his constellation. never mind that that guuji from inazuma had hers too, no, he was the one that mattered.

and he was probably right. his bow had been replaced, he was a better shot than ever, and his water blades burned with skill. even the tsaritsa noticed his increase in strength, irritatingly, sending him a letter of congratulations on becoming a vessel. he’d even spent a whole day drafting a three-page letter to his family detailing it all, all the new skills and power he’d picked up by being with you.

what made him so favored?

he pulled down the brim of his hat, repressing the need urge to look up at the sky. he’d never been one to believe in astrology, or astronomy, or whatever that witch in mondstat wanted to call it. he wasn’t going to start now, not when his whole plan in sumeru was close to toppling.

he arrived at his camp. he accepted reports with a scowl. he marched to his office. he glanced through the window. he sat down.

he didn’t know why he was being so contradictory. he’d never felt this before towards anything, let alone something he actively despised. there was no reason for this. at all.

scaramouche picked up his pen, pulling over another dull report. the words bled together, the handwriting atrocious, and he was tempted to burn it. the only thing stopping him was the knowledge that it meant he’d have to ask for another from whatever recruit turned it in.

he tapped his pen on his finger. it was hard to focus, unnaturally, and he chalked it up to the weird feeling that’s been bugging him all day; the same one that wanted him to look at the stars. he sighed, adjusted his hat, glared at where a tassel caught on his chair, and picked up a pen again.

‘troops near chatrakam cave…’

purple eyes glared at his page, at where the ink bled a bit as he left his pen too long. what was his problem?

his eyes flicked to the window, to the curtains waving in the breeze coming though.

‘…have encountered no problems. all…’

‘…all…’

‘…all is going gwe-‘

scaramouche slammed his pen on his desk with a loud groan, standing from his chair and sending it skidding back. with stomping steps, he approached the offending window, reaching to shove the pale green curtains aside. he fumbled once on the lock but quickly pushed open the whole window, removing his hat to put his head through and glare at the sky.

“what the fuck could you possibly-…”

scaramouche stared.

his steel tongue was stilled, no quick remark or scathing quip coming to his mind. his thoughts were empty, his mouth suddenly dry as he looked upwards.

at his constellation.

he knew the moment he received a vision—how he wanted to see it shatter—that he had one, the image filling his mind alongside the elemental abilities. he knew what it was, he knew it’s name, he knew the six stars that composed it and the lines drawn between.

he didn’t know it was in the sky.

but there it was, blue stars shining brightly next to some orange bull, almost mocking him as he looked up at them. in his disdainful study of the stars, he knew that only a few were delegated to the prime positions in the sky, and that the latter of the two had been rotated in already. even if he didn’t, the way it’s stars outshone his made it clear.

curses rose and fell on his tongue, like a relentless tide that dared him to speak whilst taking away his air.

he knew what having a constellation in the sky meant. he knew it, and it was why he tried earnestly to destroy it the moment he got over the shock when he received it. he wasn’t picky about power, but power that came at the cost of being another gods puppet?

he’ll pass, thanks.

so to see himself in the sky, to know that at any moment strings could be tied around his wrists once more, that he could be jerked and pulled across a stage of another’s making-

the stars shone brighter.

his office fell away, his hat slipping from between his fingertips.

no.

he reached for it, he reached for his last semblance of a shield—he wouldn’t need it—from another god, but he barely felt the fabric before it was gone.

a white haze surrounded him, vaguely bubbling into clouds far beneath his feet as he stood on an invisible platform. a blurry rectangle was far out in front of him, a distorted voice warping through.

“-i have 45, that makes… i just have to get lucky, then…”

the voice was soft- you were soft, urging him to relax even as his rational mind fought. he could feel his heart speeding up in his chest, feel the war of emotions clouding his thoughts.

this wasn’t fair. you didn’t get to show up, after everything he’d been through, and expect him to fall into your lap. you didn’t get to do that, not to him, not now, not ever.

how he wished you’d catch him.

stars lit up the sky, one after another, and he saw one of them cross a flower-like constellation. you ooo’d and thanked whoever it was for answering—as if they had a choice—and sent out more stars, more wishes, the dust certainly fogging his head.

your voice grew clearer the more stars you summoned, his heart rate increasing in turn. how many did you have? would he be forced to go? why did he want to? would you wrap your divine hands around his and pull him into your team? why did his paper front of a soul leap at the idea?

emotions he’d never felt filled his chest, heat and warmth and icy frost pooling in his veins.

“50,” you called, voice alarmingly gentle in his ear. “please, scara, please?”

he should be proud to have a god so high begging for him. he should cross his arms and puff out his chest, he should smirk and glare with a comment about how even the divine can fall.

he was one of them.

“60,” you whispered, flaring the boil in his chest.

what did he do? what could he do? how did he get out of here? why didn’t he want to? what were you doing to him? what were these feelings? why did he never want them to fade?

“70. please? pretty please?”

he felt himself lurch as the star passed but gripped desperately to the invisible air around him, wide eyes searching for a way out. it was all clouds and stars, as far as he could see, with vague shapes slowly coming into focus around him. he saw something that he thought would direct your attention elsewhere, then realized it would take your gaze off him would only be temporary and saved his energy.

“80. come on, scara.. i promise i’ll be nice.”

nice? he wanted to laugh. he would have if he wasn’t so short on breath already- and yet somehow still lightheaded, his vision swimming as his fingers began to buzz. he could feel it, the invisible rope around his chest pulling as the purple stars whizzed by, and yet he held firm in his place amongst the clouds. he couldn’t answer you he wouldn’t be able to stay composed. he wouldn’t allow himself to be put under another’s jurisdiction again but he knew you were different, you were warm and soft and so different from her.

you would not have him yet.

you were not his god you were his true creator.

you laughed. he hated loved that it was edged with bitterness.

“damn. making me go to the shop again, huh?”

he wanted to apologize tell you it was a lost cause.

“well scara… 4 more wishes. i know it’s useless but… please?”

one.

the pull knocked the wind out of him, his treacherous to who? hands faltering their grip on the walls around him. in the blue light of the stars, he knew he was flushed with exertion.

he could feel it, the chance he was given. the choice to stay, to hear your voice falter and slip and plea, or to go. to answer the string pulling at his heart of glass, to trust and hope that you wouldn’t betray him like so many before.

two.

did he dare believe you? did he dare to trust the only one he could another god, to put his cracked trust in your palms and hope you wouldn’t drop it? did he go against his rules, did he follow the reputation he had built up, did he cling to the clouds before crashing down in regret his office?

who knew if you could be trusted? if he went, you’d have two harbingers under your thumb. what if you wanted to topple the fatui? what if this was a ploy to get him to trust you? what if you didn’t treat him like you did childe or any of the others, what if you wanted him to laugh and scorn and taunt? what if you wanted him just to see him try and pick himself off the floor where he landed, expecting nothing and yet still disappointed?

what if you wanted him for him?

three.

enveloped in gold, the wanderer could only wish that you would catch him.

#AY #I KNOW I POSTED TODSY AND ALL #AND I KNOW I HAVE 7+ OTHER REQUESTS TO DO #BUT I JUST GOT THE WANDERER #SO…. HERES THIS #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin #genshin impact #self aware genshin #scaramouche #wanderer #sagau scaramouche #sagau wanderer #my other gifts; journal; aviator glasses; clock puzzle; camera #genshin impact (2020): aye boss; we know it’s ya birthday n all: here’s a man with mommy issues and a god complex #he insults you when you run or use his burst; you’ll love him!#i do. thank you mhy 🙏#he’s my THIRD ANEMO DPS but i don’t care. me n the viridescent domain are besties (lying through gritted teeth)#ALSO THIS IS MY THIRD/FOURTH WON 50/50 IN A ROW?? sagau is real #YO AND LAST TIME I GOT MIKO AND CHILDE WITHIN 20 PULLS EACH?? god has favorites and im one of ‘em /j #oh and the readers dialogue here is a lie. i was calling scara a bitchand a rat fuck (affectionate) the whole time.#doesn’t make for a good fic though so. eh.#also i am on my hands and knees BEGGING you to do this man’s trial and spam his burst. it’s so pretty omfg—#WHO gave him the pretties burst in game??? i need to send them a loving letter IMMEDIATELY #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche x you #wanderer x reader

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