#they can cuddle it’s not against the law

[acowardinmordor]

Risk and Reward

Steddie-adjacent. Tw: homophobia

I always love fics where Steve makes himself Eddie’s alibi while Eddie is still unconscious/in a coma. Knows that it will work because he knows in this town there is no way anyone would believe that Steve Harrington would come out if it wasn’t real. No one would believe it, because everyone knows that his parents are always gone, because his dad is in Congress railing against the gays and their depravity and how they deserve to die and burn.

Steve saying it. Signing an affidavit about it. Giving quotes to the ravenous press. It has to be true. And everyone who doesn’t think it’s disgusting think it’s the most romantic thing in the world.

The government was stepping in, all eyes were pointed at Munson, and he was going to be thrown in a cell for life. Or, to save the cost of the trial, he would have vanished somewhere between the hospital and the prison.

Steve coming out stops that. Airtight alibi, reinforced by the knowledge that there will be consequences.

Eddie is safe, and the government has changed tactics, is blaming dead Jason Carver for it all. Eddie wakes up six weeks later, shocked to wake up at all, and trusts his uncle enough to play along. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were dating the Harrington kid?’ Eddie knows how to tell a story that leaves space for a player to fill in their side. He tells stories about little moments and always describes things from his perspective. That way, if it contradicts the story that’s already out there, he can make a find quip about how he remembers it different.

When he finally gets a moment alone with his uncle, two days later, his guess gets confirmed. Wayne knows damn well that Eddie’s gayer than a maypole, and also knows that Eddie has called Steve his nemesis for years. Wayne knew from the second Steve said it that it was a lie, and knew it would work if it was believed.

The only thing confusing Eddie - well, the only thing in this tiny slice of his world - is why his fake boyfriend/no-longer-nemesis, isn’t in the hospital too, playing the part. If the guy was willing to say it at all, then he’d go all in. If there was one thing Eddie’d learned during those days, it was that Steve only ever did something at 100%

And yes, part of him feels terrible that Steve did this just to save him. He feels awful knowing that this is going to ruin a chance for a normal life. Wayne said the Indianapolis paper picked up a story about it. But at the same time, he’s so fucking grateful. Steve saved him. Again. And now, at least for a while, they’ll need to keep up the story. He’ll get to hang out with him, pretend they’re dating, stand close and cuddle closer. He also feels bad about how excited he is for that chance.

It’s the next morning when Eddie realizes his uncle dodged every question about why Steve wasn’t here. Wayne dodged almost every question after explaining what happened with Steve and the press and the Feds in the first weeks. Then, nothing.

The party visits him that afternoon, a veneer of joy stretched thin over something worse. Eddie’s first guess is that Red didn’t make it. But he hears her a moment later, complaining about ‘these stupid casts slowing me down’. The kids aren’t as good at dodging as Wayne is. Eddie gets the story quickly, such as it is.

The Harringtons came home from DC, gave a few speeches in praise of law enforcement against a serial killer. They visited the families of those that died.

They sent an assistant to find Steve in the hospital to deliver a message. No one else heard it, but the best guess is that it was a threat. Steve went with the assistant. They haven’t seen him since. When Dustin confronted the Harringtons at their last event in town, all they’d say was that ‘our son is getting the best help, and we love him dearly’

Eddie looks at Robin when he hears that for what it is. She drops the kids back home and begs a sympathetic nurse to let her talk to Eddie past visiting hours.

“It’s been a month since he vanished”

“Where?”

“We don’t know, we tried, even Hopper - he’s not dead - couldn’t find him. And this guy named Murray. We don’t know.”

“But…. ‘The best help’. You know that means…”

“I know”

“He’s, Christ, Buckley, he’s straight. Ladykiller. He’s straight and they sent him to some—“

“Yeah, but Eddie… I don’t know if I should… I guess, not that it matters now, and he never said anything, but he’s my best friend. He’s my soulmate. I know him and I think… if his dad wasn’t like he is… if he’d ever felt safe saying so… he knew they’d be furious when he came forward as your alibi, but he told me they’d just disown him, and it would be over. He was scared, but he was okay with what he thought was going to happen”

“I thought he hates me”

“He kinda did”

“Not anymore?”

“No.” There’s a pause where they both think about where Steve might be right now.

“Maybe he hates me again now.”

“I don’t think he would, but…”

And Eddie thinks how weird it is to see spastic Robin Buckley, who rambled in the Upside Down and always had more energy that she could contain, acting so subdued. No. So broken.

They both heard the Harringtons’ speeches and ads when he ran for office. They know what the man thinks about people like them. They both heard stories about what the places are like, where someone can go to ‘get help’

“Do you think I’ll ever get to thank him?”

“No.”

“Do you think we’ll ever see him again? You and the kids at least?”

She’s quiet for a long time, before she picks up her bag.

“If he ever gets to leave wherever they put him, and we ever see him, I don’t think he’ll be the person we knew anymore.”

[allzelemonz]

Bears: Bill Williamson X Male Reader

Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘guy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: reader mentioned to be a bigger guy, honestly just two bears fucking, real simple, robbery, forced proximity, groping, oral sex, face sitting, anal sex Summary: After being split from the gang, you get lost between Bill’s legs.

It wasn’t the intention of Dutch to get the gang split by the tracks, but that’s what happened. He, Arthur, and Javier on one side while you and Bill ended up on the other. The train roars past after the failed attempt to stop it and law is already shouting over the hill. Whatever orders Dutch yells are drowned out by everything else. The horses were spooked, leaving you to push Bill along the hill to hide in the trees as the law scrambles to find whatever outlaws linger. They spit the others through the passing train cars and bolt around, forcing the others to run.

“Ah, shit.” Bill grumbles. “Ain’t no way ta catch up now.”

“Camp’s that way, can’t even risk running into trouble without Dutch finding out.” You glance around, looking for a solution. “There’s a cabin.”

“Spendin’ the night? All the damn whiskey’s in my saddlebag”

“Do you want to risk running into the law right now?”

Bill huffs, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and beginning the trudge into the trees. You look back towards the tracks and take note of the minuscule retreating figures. Your horses should find their way back here now that it’s not so loud and you’ll hopefully be back at camp by noon tomorrow at least.

Following after Bill, you find the cabin you spotted to be more of a small shack. Big enough for a single hunter out here alone, but certainly not for two grown men. Bill eyes the bed as you step through the doorway and falls onto it before you can even suggest an alternative.

“Think I’m entitled to a good nap.” Bill sighs, putting his arms behind his head.

Not even a second later, the weak legs give out under him and bed planks fall to the floor. Bill flails, ending up a pile of clothing and hair among the broken wood.

“Looks like no one gets good sleep, great job.”

Bill scoffs at you, rolling himself out of the mess of wood. “Ah, shut it, thing’s made like a cheap shelf.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have jumped on it.”

Bill scowls up at you from the floor, his face already red from the situation. “I ain’t jumpin’! Damn thing just ain’t built right!”

“Just sleep on the floor, Williamson.” You sigh, kicking the wood against the wall to make room for both of you on the floor. “Ain’t like we don’t both sleep on the ground most nights anyway.”

Bill grumbles as he does when sober and grumpy, but he curls up on his side and tries to sleep all the same. You settle yourself next to him, not much room with all the broken bed taking space. Still, you both find sleep easily after the long day of failed robbery.

Sometime in the night your eyes open, moonlight blinding you for a moment as it streams through the cracks in the poorly built shack. There’s a weight on you, nothing that hasn’t happened before when bunking so close to another member of the gang. Bill has his arm slung over you and his body pressed to your back. Not as clingy as Arthur the last time you ended up sharing a tent with him, but still not easy to wiggle away from.

Nonetheless, you try. But after just the slightest movement, you feel that all telling hardness poking at your leg. And when you still, Bill cuddles closer, bringing the feeling of his whole length up against you. Even from sitting against his softer leg, you can guess how big it really is. Just the thought of it makes your own dick twitch to life in your pants. When bunking with other gang members, you had never been presented with this situation, but something about Bill getting hard and cuddling up to you makes you want to take care of two problems in one.

You twist on the floor, turning onto your back and shake Bill awake. He groans and grumbles before opening his eyes and staring up at you sleepily.

“Wha’ is it?” He slurs.

“You got a hard problem, Bill.”

Bill’s brow furrows for a moment before he feels it against his leg and his face instantly goes a little pink as he blinks rapidly. “I… that… that happens to every man at some point, i-it don’t mean nothin’!”

“Relax.” You say softly. “You have no idea how okay with it I am…”

“You…” Bill stares for a moment. “You’re…”

“Let me help you. Whatever you want.”

“…ain’t a trick?”

You shake your head. “Ain’t a trick.”

Bill shuffles a bit on his side. “So… so I could just… maybe, uh… get on ya an’…”

“Yeah.” You nod, settling onto your back and letting your legs part naturally. “I’m just as hard, don’t worry.”

Bill’s eyes trail past your gunbelt, his hand not hesitating to reach out and squeeze at the bulge like it had a mind all its own. You let your head rest back against the floor, grinding gently back against Bill’s squeezing hand. He seems transfixed by it, just watching the bulging fabric move as he plays with the hardness underneath.

His voice comes out like a croak, quiet and hoarse. “Can… Can I sit on yer face?”

The thought of getting lost between Bill’s thighs and drowning with his dick down your throat makes your voice shake. “Yeah…”

Bill looks up at you like he expected you to beat the shit out of him for giving the suggestion, but in the next few seconds he’s frantically tugging his pants off and throwing his gunbelt aside. You place gentle hands on his thighs as he climbs over you. The thick legs settle on either side of your head and his length dangles just above your face as he looks down with such lit up eyes you’d think he found a million dollars.

You give his thighs a gentle squeeze and Bill shutters as your fingers cling into the thick skin. He takes himself in hand, leaning down to press his tip to your lips. You open without question and press a soft kiss to it, bringing a choked moan from Bill. He leans forward, pressing himself into your mouth as he leans over you. It slides in like it’s home, his hips keeping it out of your throat for now but quivering in anticipation. His stomach presses against your head, giving you the perfect chance to inhale the deep scent of sweat and strong body odor from his groin.

The quivering gives way as he starts to move, letting all his weight onto you as he thrusts down your throat. You relax yourself, letting everything swallow you as Bill simply loses himself in fucking down into the wet hole between his legs. He loses it fast, frantically chasing the feeling building in his gut as he drowns you in thick skin and bushy hair, both topped with sweat and now messed with spit.

You grip onto his ass, stilling the jiggling skin in your hands and squeezing hard as you try to get him as far into your throat as possible before he finishes. Bill encloses thick thighs even tighter around your head, his balls settling down across your chin as he cums down your throat. Little thrusts and twitches escape from his hips as he tries to milk himself through whimpers muffled by his arm. Then he settles, spent and satisfied.

You rub gently at his ass, letting him recover before he picks himself up. He sits up, looking down at the sight of his dick slowly withdrawing from your mouth with hooded eyes. You take a breath through your nose and close your eyes, letting the taste of sweaty gunpowder linger while it can. Bill shifts above you, his weight moving down to your legs from your chest and you can feel his hands unfastening your pants.

Just as he’s pulling you out, you open your eyes. A string of spit falls from his mouth and lands perfectly on your tip. You shudder at the cold, but Bill's hand follows to spread it over you and the shudder is joined by a groan. Bill pumps you a few times with hard squeezes before he climbs over you again, this time settling himself over your legs. Words catch in your throat as he sinks down onto you, his ass so warm and tight it makes your vision white for just a second. You sink into him until he’s sat right on your legs, his hole so wet it must have been pre-prepared.

“Bill…” You groan as he lifts himself up. “You… you’re wet?”

He drops his hands to rest in your chest, squeezing your pecs through your shirt as he starts to bounce in earnest. “Yeah…” He groans as you hit that spot just right. “Stretch before a job… then find something big after…”

You watch, a bit in awe as Bill bounces on you. His body moves in turn, stomach and all jiggling in a way that makes your own stomach twist closer to release. “Damn, you’re so good, Bill… soft and— shit!”

He sinks down into you again, grinding down into your lap and squishing your balls against his ass. “Yeah, you like a big man, don’t ya?” He chuckles, a hand coming up to unbutton his shirt so you can see his hairy torso properly. “Knew you would… heavy guy like you just wants someone that can take him.”

He starts his pace again, the sight of his bare chest and stomach jiggling with each bounce makes your hands reach out on their own. You grip at his stomach and watch as your hands disappear into his chest hair on the way up. It takes only a few more bounces, just a handful of times to sink into Bill, before you’re cumming into him. He makes sure to put all of his weight into you, taking you as deep as possible while you coat his insides.

Your vision is blurry for a moment after, but you feel the loss of heat and know Bill has rolled off. Between rapid blinks, you can see him on his back beside you, a hand on his bare stomach as he pants but with a huge grin plastered on his face. You shuffle closer, tugging his arm until he’s rolled on his side and cuddling into your chest. He’s sweaty and overheated, but everything is too blurry and your brain is still buzzing. You just hurry your nose into his hair and press a kiss to the balding spot on his head before drifting to sleep.

[qu0rky]

shipping radiostatic feels so nice when you don’t have bitches in your ears saying shit like “radiosilence is better” “VoxVal is better” “and then Alastor left for 7 years” or turning fluffy radiostatic posts violent for no reason. You’re not funny, it’s annoying. Let people enjoy stuff that isn’t hurting anyone.

[scentedluminarysoul]

I knew there was a reason I liked Japanese culture so much

[charliemwrites]

Hybrid AU with Ragdoll!Reader and Siberian-mix!Konig

Reader is a rescued cat hybrid that Laswell's sister in law has been taking care of for the last 3 months. When she meets this little ragdoll kitty, so bright and friendly and curious, she immediately thinks of the 141. Hybrids have a lot uses in the government. Sometimes combative, sometimes therapeutic. The 141 could use a companion animal, given the close call Soap recently had and the general trauma the whole squad has.

With the kitty's permission and cooperation, they assess her as a possible therapy placement. She tests so well and so high that Laswell (again, with consent) immediately starts paperwork to place her with the 141 before even bringing it up to Price.

He's a bit skeptical at first. Even without being a combat hybrid, their jobs are high stress, very dangerous, and not very stable. But Laswell convinces him to at least meet Ragdoll.

They do introductions at the sister-in-law's house, where the kitty will be most comfortable. Ragdoll takes one sniff of him and starts purring like a little engine. He's visibly surprised, and Laswell can barely hold back her grin as the kitty climbs into his lap. They spend the rest of the afternoon discussing arrangements while his new hybrid naps because obviously he can't say no now.

Price becomes her primary handler. They move her to his barrack and give her a week to settle in, but she's not a skittish thing by any means. Wants to follow him everywhere, curls up in his bed, meows sadly at the door when he leaves her alone. It becomes clear very quickly that the usual introduction manuals are too slow for her.

Kitty meets Kyle next. Again, instant purrs. She presses her cheek into his palms, then wriggles her way closer to brush up against his cheek. Lets out a little "mrrp!" when he stutters out a pleasantly surprised, "hello there." She nibbles at the brim of his hat and grins when he gently redirects her, chirping at this fun new friend.

Two for two, Price and Kyle decide to introduce her to Simon and Johnny. They let her explore the common room first, get comfortable, and then call the other two in. Kitty watches from behind Price as Simon and Johnny enter.

Johnny is a dog hybrid with Simon as his primary handler. Price has faith that his sergeant will behave well with the new kitty, but he's not sure of what her reaction will be. Johnny's obviously, visibly excited, tail wagging, but Simon gets him to sit and wait while she makes the first move.

It takes absolutely no time at all for her to pad out from behind Price and approach. Simon goes first, offering a hand. But she barely even sniffs him before cuddling up to him, pawing curiously at his mask. He lets her, clicking his tongue when she dislodges it a bit, but then he gently nudges her towards Johnny.

His ears are perked forwards, tail still swishing. Kitty's ears are twitching, eyes big and curious. But her tail is up and curved curiously, not even a little fluffed. She gets in real close to his face, sniffs, then bumps her forehead against his chin. Which is when he loses patience and licks a big stripe up her cheek. She mews indignantly, ears going airplane mode, but thankfully doesn't swat at him.

It literally couldn't go better. She's a perfect fit.

Over the next few months she settles in with them happily, an absolute dream of a hybrid. Not very verbal, at least through human speech, but perfectly communicative and incredibly friendly.

She chirps whenever one of the 141 enters a room, has a different tone for each of them. Purrs if one of them so much as looks at her, all slow blinks and little smiles. Chitters when she sees them running outside through the windows.

Even grooming is relatively easy. She lets them brush out her floofy tail without much fuss, only trying to retreat if they catch a tangle. Readily gives up her hands to trim her claws. Even opens her mouth for them to brush off her fangs after raw meals.

She curls up with Simon on bad days, warm and purring, breathing little puffs of air against his collarbone. Lounges with Kyle after hard missions, nuzzling against him while he pets her soft ears. She spends hours upon hours in Price's office, curled up on his lap while he does paperwork or talks over the phone, kneading biscuits into his stomach.

Her friendship with Johnny is maybe the most surprising. They play wrestle just about every night, rolling around on the rough carpets in the common room and nipping at each others ears. She'll pounce on him, little teeth flashing, but almost always get bodied by his larger stature. The others will let them play until one of them - usually Johnny - gets too excited and makes the other yelp. At that point, Price or Simon will usually scoop one of the hybrids up and tsk at them for getting rough.

She's the 141's precious kitty, sweet and friendly and outgoing. The whole base knows her, though she's never far from one of her boys. And they know what it means if Ragdoll doesn't like someone.

It's rare, which is why it raises neon red flags. The first time is a new recruit that reaches to pet her without introducing himself first. She twists around on him, but usually even that would be recoverable. Except when he keeps trying to touch her, she gets a whiff of him and hisses, scrambling away.

The guy doesn't last long.

It happens again a few weeks later with a nurse meant to be giving her checkup. She gets low to the table, tail poofing up, and growls low in her throat. When the nurse rolls her eyes and tells Price to just hold his hybrid still so they can get things over with, he knows instantly that his little ragdoll was right to react that way.

With that in mind, it's no surprise that no one trusts Philip Graves when he visits their base and she takes an instant dislike to him. He introduces himself correctly, but she still hard reverses away from him, nose scrunched up. Ears back, tail fluffing up, she slips behind Price and glares from around his arm.

Problem is, Graves is used to dog hybrids. He's great with them. Kitties... not so much, even with a manual. Ends his week at the base with a couple of proper bite marks and an itchy scratch on his hand.

Given her reaction, Simon and Johnny aren't too shocked when he betrays them in Las Almas.

When a team from KorTac is scheduled for a joint assignment, the 141 is bracing for a similar reaction. Especially because they have their own cat hybrid - some big mixed breed.

Kyle even suggests keeping Ragdoll inside for initial introductions on the tarmac, but they all know that's not actually viable. Their kitty wouldn't talk to them for the rest of the day if they left her out like that.

So Price double checks that her little bell-collar is on and brings her out to meet the KorTac team.

Their cat hybrid is even bigger than expected - no wonder he's a combat placement despite being a domestic breed. He keeps his face hidden behind a big black hood with cutouts for his ears, fluffy tail slightly tangled-looking.

Price hasn't even finished introductions with the KorTac team when she makes a rolling little chur noise, bright and curious. The bigger hybrid zeros in on her instantly, ears flicking. She pads out from behind the captain and slips away before he can catch her. Any calls for her to come back are fully ignored.

She trots right up to the Austrian and mrrps again, pausing mid-step, waiting for a response. The other hybrid doesn't respond - at least he doesn't seem to.

"Sorry, kitten, but he doesn't really do the cat noises," Declan tries to tell her. But he's also ignored, and no sooner has he spoken than she's getting into the other cat's space, continuously making little "brr" noises.

And then to everyone's shock, he's bending down to greet her in return, nuzzling her cheek and forehead through the hood. She starts to purr, pressing up close, tail swishing lazily. A noise erupts from him, deep and rough, rattling in his chest. Johnny jumps and snatches at her shirt, dragging her back to the safety of their team.

She mewls sadly, arms extended to reach for him.

"He's growling, Doll," Johnny corrects, arms curling around her middle. For the first time ever she starts to wriggle. "He's too big for you to mess with."

"I... wasn't growling," the Austrian pipes up. "I apologizes if I caused alarm."

Johnny shoots him an incredulous look.

"Then what was that?" Kyle asks, confused.

"I don't... often purr."

Price takes one look at their still-wiggly kitty and the Austrian leaning towards her, as if wanting to follow, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Shit."

[dxxdhood]

convince me

pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader

summary: deadpool forced me to write smut where the two of you act out the position you see in an,,,, ahem,,, erotic video.

tags: smut (18+), fingering, penetration, slight degradation, finger sucking, dom!wade wilson, sub!reader

wc: 1.2k

“Babe, listen, the mistake we made was going to White Castle sober.”

“Excellent defense, Mr. Wilson. You ever think about switching to a career in law?”

“Can’t, my tagline doesn’t transfer across professions. Calling yourself the Lawyer with the Mouth is like saying you’re the fanfic writer who’s horny.”

He manages to make you chuckle, as usual, even though you were supposed to still be annoyed about your frankly terrible dinner. But walking back into your apartment has you less inclined to hold grudges, somehow. It’s probably the promise of cuddling up in bed together. Either that, or it’s all the hilarious nicknacks Wade keeps dropping off in your living room. The fucked-up Pikachu plush where the eyes and cheeks are swapped is particularly getting to you.

“Wait for me in bed, alright?” you say.

“Oh?” Wade waggles his non-existent eyebrows. “Is this little cutie planning something?”

“Yeah, planning to spend an hour in the bathroom,” you shake your head and fail to hold back a smile. “Find us a good movie to watch while I’m out.”

.

To nobody’s surprise, you both end up on a site that starts in p and ends in hub.

“Nobody can get into that position,” your inner critic bursts out of you at the best of times. 

You can feel Wade smirking from where his face is tucked into your neck, cuddling you from behind. “Well, in the words of Clue 1985,” he runs a scarred hand down your waist. “Sure, they can. Let me show you.”

He nips at your neck, kissing at the sensitive skin of  your jaw. You exhale, trying to calm the burning sensation building in your gut, but you struggle to stay patient when he starts sucking a bruise into your collarbone. 

“Wade!” you gasp, trying and failing to stop your body from grinding your ass against him. He responds in turn, moving closer to you, his hard cock slowly rubbing against your ass.

He flips over, now perched on top of you and caging you in, arms on either side of your head as he kisses you. Every time he deepens the kiss, makes you feel like you’ll never want to come back up for air, he fucks with you by biting at your bottom lip or scratching his teeth against your gums. 

You bang your fists against the mattress a few too many times, understandably annoyed with his teasing, so Wade grips both of your wrists with one hand and holds them above you, plastering them to the headboard.

The action has you moaning into his mouth, and the bottom half of your body continues to move on its own, grinding against the air now. You feel so desperate, your face heats up thinking about how much of a mess you already are for him. Wishing he would close the new gap between your bodies, you arch your back off the bed, trying to feel more of his body against yours.

He giggles, watching you wriggle around. “Hold your horses there, cutie. We’re not even at the good part yet.” 

Wade brings a hand up to your face, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You’re so thrown off by the sudden show of affection that you don't even process him slipping a rough finger into your mouth.

“Suck,” he commands. And something about Wade only using a single word when he’s usually so noisy has you whining as you circle his finger with your tongue.

His big brown eyes are glued to your lips, watching them worship his finger like he’s all you’ve ever wanted. Around the time you start bobbing up and down his finger, he slips it out of you and pats your cheek.

“Good baby, such a good slut for me,” he whispers as he slides your shorts and underwear off in one motion. He slicks up the finger and you with a small bottle of lube and carefully starts slipping into your entrance.

“What? Where’d you even–” you snap your gaze sideways to your bedside table, which is curiously unopened. 

He taps the front pocket of his pants, “Never leave home without it.” Did he really always have that in his pocket? At the fucking White Castle?!

He talks as he fingers you, pressing against your walls casually as if he isn’t making you lose your mind. “You look impressed, babe. Tell me you’re not impressed.”

“Oh my god, shut up!” you groan as he reaches deeper inside you, adding another finger and stretching you further.

“As you wish,” he pumps his fingers at a faster pace, gripping your hip with one hand and bringing his face to your chest so he can lick at a nipple. A spark shoots down your spine and you can feel him chuckle as your body starts to shiver.

His fingers are pounding against your insides. You can feel yourself throbbing around him, clenching and wanting more, so he adds a third finger and fucks you at a punishing pace. You bite your own lip to keep back what was going to be an embarrassing moan, but he nips at your nipple and you let out a small shout.

Just as he finally starts reaching at that spot in you that has you seeing stars, he slips his fingers out. You're going to berate him for throwing you off just as the pleasure was building, but he already has his cock placed at your entrance, so close to sliding in.

“You ready?” he whispers, and you nod so quickly you think you may have pulled a muscle.

 He releases a breathy moan as he slides all the way in you, reaching right where you need him but still stubbornly not giving it to you.

“Wade, move!” you cry. He responds by smacking your ass and pulling you into his lap. You’re seated on his thighs as he throws your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half as he starts thrusting in and out of you. The position has you feeling so much closer to him, like he has free reign to stroke every part of you.

You grip onto his shoulders and try to interlock your ankles together to help you hold onto him as he pumps his cock into you faster. Wade moans so deep it sounds like a growl and you clench around him at the sound.

“Fuck!” he cries before kissing you, harshly making out as his hips continue to piston inside you. You can feel the vibrations of his moans against your own mouth, and it’s enough to make your muscles twitch around him again.

“Shit, Wade,” you whisper. “I’m going to–”

“Yeah, babe?” he says in between kissing you. “Go, do it. Come for me.”

You rip away from his mouth and release with a moan, your entire body burning as you quiver around his cock. He leans his head into your neck and bites down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder as he comes, filling you so completely you never want him to leave. 

You finally come down from your orgasm and relax in his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Wade is still panting, but he keeps kissing across your face, smiling when you reciprocate and kiss his forehead. 

“You’re making every thought that passes through my head sound like an ABBA song,” he whispers, eyes closed.

“That might be the closest thing to a love confession I’ve gotten out of you.”

[nina-ya]

Can I have a scenario where Law is jealous of Bepo because you’re always hugging and cuddling with him like the big cuddle bear he is but Law is too shy to admit that he’s jealous

A/N: Hi there!! I had a lot of fun writing this I hope you enjoy! Pairing: Law x Reader CW: none just fluff WC: ~800

It’s truly hard to resist the lure of the comfort that Bepo brings. Everyone knows this. Everyone on the crew has succumbed to the furry comfort of the polar bear, and you were no different. Especially during those cold winters, trying to steal Law’s body warmth is not enough, so you often turned to the furry companion.

You often found yourself nestled comfortably against Bepos warm fur. As you lay there, you caught a glimpse of a certain captain out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but notice that something was wrong. You would notice how his stares would linger on the two of you when you were cuddling, or how his attitude would be the slightest more passive aggressive if you were to talk to him after cuddling the polar bear. 

You brushed off any thoughts of jealousy, chalking up the more sour behavior to stress from future plans. As the days went by though, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was indeed something wrong with Law, yet every time you would confront him, you would be met with a short and sweet “nothing’s wrong.” 

‘Nothing’s wrong’ he claimed, yet those stares never stopped that constant upset mood never stopped. It’s as if he was jealous that you were cuddling Bepo or something… holy shit he was jealous that you were cuddling Bepo!

Once you put two and two together, you couldn’t help but find this all amusing. His denial of anything being wrong was slightly infuriating, but his lack of communication is something you would work on later. For now, your main focus is exploiting that newly discovered jealousy until he owns up to it.

You started purposefully avoiding Law as often as you could to cuddle with Bepo. Every time he would see you, you would be cuddled into the side of the polar bear. This only heightened his jealousy further and further with each passing day.

Today, the Polar Tang was surfaced, and the crew took the opportunity to go star gazing at night. All of you lay on the main deck, watching the stars above, and you of course were planted right in the arms of Bepo, your new favorite spot. The crew was passing around food and drinks, chatting and laughing under the night sky, until Law left the group early. He was quieter than normal tonight, and you were honestly wondering if you were starting to take this jealousy thing too far.

Then, a blue bubble encompassed the entire deck and suddenly, you were no longer on the main deck in Bepos arms, but you were in the captains quarters, in Laws lap.

You stammered in confusion, trying to make sense of the disorientation caused by the sudden teleportation. Law’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him. As if by instinct, you melted into his arms, your body molding into his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You nuzzled your head into his neck, mumbling against his skin. “Are you okay?” The care for him evident in your tone.

He let out a small grunt in response, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Just stay with me for a bit,” he muttered to you, a subtle vulnerability laced in his voice. 

With a hum, you settled further into his arms, taking in the scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body right against yours. The tension that had been building finally began to dissipate the more you settled into his touch. His tight grip around you softened, and you could feel his worries easing with the sigh he let out. It was as if all the weight of his jealousy had been lifted off his shoulders. 

You nestled closer to him, resting your head against his chest as you listened to his heartbeat. It’s moments like these where words are not needed, just each other's presence. He rested his head against your own.

Law broke the silence, “I’m sorry,” he murmured against your skin. “ “for acting so…” he trailed off, not quite sure how to articulate his feelings.

“Jealous?” you finished for him, your voice gentle as you looked at him with understanding. A pause filled the air as he took in that word. ‘Jealous’. Law hesitated for a moment before he finally nodded with reluctant agreement.

“Yeah, jealous.” he admitted, confirming your thoughts. 

You sensed his discomfort and shifted in his lap to get more comfortable. “You know,” you began, your voice tender as you reached up and brushed a stray hair from his face. “This is my favorite place. Right here, with you.” you punctuated your words by squeezing him tight. 

His eyes softened at your words, “Good,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “lets keep it that way.”

[crheativity]

Hello! Mind if I send in a request? How about some headcanons for the reader making cute little plushies for the overblot squad?

SUMMARY: You decide to make plushies for the overblot squad. How do they react?

WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!

COMMENTS: ANON I want you to know that this prompt randomly smacked me over the head at like 10 pm a couple nights ago and I have not been able to get it out since even though I haven’t been able to write until now. I hope you enjoy it!!

Part two - Prefect making the plushies clothes and accessories - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.

Riddle absolutely loves it, please don’t mistake his silence for displeasure. He thinks it is skilfully made and quite adorable, really! He’s just… a little concerned. Does making a plush toy of the Queen herself count as sacrilege…? He’s racking his brains for any rule or law that would prohibit this adorable little toy’s existence, yet none come to mind. Does that mean he gets to keep it…? He really hopes so.

After a few days of diligent research into the matter, he determines that keeping such a cute thing is not against the law, and is overjoyed to find that he gets to keep it. After some deliberation, he decides to leave it on his desk - out of view from Cater, who would almost certainly want to take some “cammable pics” for Magicam. This way, the toy can sit on his desk and remind him of his studies… and also of you. Almost every time he sits down, he finds his eyes wandering to it and can’t help but smile.

Heh, this is kinda cute. He doesn’t mind the plushy at first - it’s cute, but he finds the expression on your face as you give it to him much cuter. Of course he’ll keep it - it’s soft and squishy enough to be a pillow, so he’s eager to try it. Especially if it means skipping class.

As he attempts to fall asleep next to said plushy, however, he realises something - the plushy smells like you. He’s a beastman, with a heightened sense of smell. Even if the plushy doesn’t smell at all, it still smells of you. As a result of this realisation, the plushy now lives on his bed. He begins to find it frustrating to sleep without it, although he’d never be caught dead sleeping in the grounds with it. You’ll just have to replace it then instead.

(Ruggie has so many blackmail photos of Leona sleeping with the toy prepared just in case)

Prefect, this is magnificent! Imagine the money you could make off of these! Hm? What do you mean they aren’t for sale-? It’s just for him…? Oh. Give him a moment, his brain just crashed. He doesn’t quite know how to respond. He loves it, and he loves you even more, but that doesn’t mean his brain is capable of forming a response, especially when you give him a big smile. Give the poor guy a minute.

He leaves it on his bed. This man definitely cuddles it while he sleeps. He gets easily distressed when it isn’t there. After a rough day at work or school, he’ll talk quietly to the plush until he feels better. If worse comes to worst, he’ll hug the toy and cry as he needs to. He loves it so much. It’s almost a new friend to him - something he finds great comfort in.

(The Tweels are no longer allowed in his room. When they inevitably come in anyway, he swears them to secrecy.)

Is that the Sorcerer of the Sands… as a plushy? For him? Thank you, Prefect. Jamil doesn’t have a whole lot of plushies - he never particularly saw the point. But he’s absolutely charmed by this one — and by you. And the fact that it’s the Sorcerer of the Sands? You definitely knew him well. He’s smiling and shaking his head as he takes the plushy. You’re so cute, it’s so endearing.

At first, Jamil isn’t quite sure what to do with it. He can’t quite sleep if it’s on his bed - it reminds him of you too strongly - so he settles with leaving it on his desk. Occasionally, in his rare free time, he’ll sit at his desk and play with it, like a grown adult finding a lost but treasured toy again. It always reminds him of you. When life calls him back, he’ll set the plushy aside for now and get to work. It will be waiting for him.

Just like you, he hopes.

Prefect! He didn’t know you could sew. It looks amazing! It’s for him? You’re very sweet, he’s very in love. He loves the plush toy so much, no matter if it has any imperfections. It was made by you, of someone he looks up to, for him. He hates to sound like Rook, but to him, that makes it the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He’s so proud of you. Vil is taking that plush EVERYWHERE. It’s always in his bag no matter where he’s going. Anytime someone questions it, he shuts them down immediately. No one will dare slander something that his beloved made for him. In fact, he uses every opportunity to sneak the plush into photos for Magicam. Whether he’s holding it, it’s nearby or in the background, it’s always there. People start looking for it in all of his pictures.

If you’re okay with the plush being online, that is.

If you’d rather it stay private, he’d kiss your forehead or hand and tell you he understands. The plush toy then stays in his room, on his vanity table. Looking at it makes him feel like a teenage schoolgirl. He supposes it’s alright to indulge in such silliness occasionally, hm?

Wow, you made him a marketable plushy? Of one of the Great Seven? He wasn’t expecting you to have such a normie hobby. Oh, but that’s not a bad thing. He’s extremely grateful, but extremely awkward - does this mean he has to get you something now? What kinda thing would you like? Ah, wait, was that not the appropriate thing to say? Ortho’s giving him the “shut up and be polite” look.

Please don’t be offended if it seems like he doesn’t like it when he receives it. He actually really, really does. He decides to make it his new “gaming buddy”, making him a little custom headset and fake controller and sitting it next to him while he games. He’s stunned to silence when the lil guy’s presence improves his gacha rolls by, like, a LOT. He was already taking pretty good care of it, but now he’s being WAY more careful with it.

Occasionally, Ortho will catch him talking to it. Idia genuinely loves the plushy - and you - a lot. Even if Idia doesn’t quite know how to show it, Ortho does - by recording Idia’s conversations with the toy and showing them to you. Idia is mortified.

Oh? My child of man made me this… adorable plushy? My, how generous of you. He’s absolutely in love. If you thought he was attached to his tamagotchi, just wait and see. Malleus is NEVER letting the plushy leave his presence. Lilia had to take it away to clean it once and it stormed for a week. He loves it so much - and you so much more.

He absolutely treats the plushy as a human, and asks the others to do the same. Occasionally, he (or rather, Lilia using his phone to assist him) will send you a photo of him and the plushy doing something together, such as having a tea party or a picnic. Almost always with the caption, “Dear Prefect, would you care to join us? Kind regards, Malleus.”

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[inkskinned]

yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

[ddejavvu]

Hi, i hope youre doing well ☺️

Could i request another part to animagus cat reader where reader cuddles with Remus during winter instead of Sirius because its cold and he runs warmer?? Like he'll be in the common room reading in an arm chair while reader catnaps on his lap while being pet and Sirius tells him to stop stealing his gf and James is jealous/whiny that he doesnt get to have cat snuggles.

part 1 / part 2

--

Despite the two blankets layered in an inviting nest on Sirius's lap, Remus is the warmest person in the room. The fire crackes on its logs, offering scorching heat, but what you seek is gentle warmth, and you've found it between Remus's sweater and his undershirt. You're splayed over his chest much like a baby would be, your paws stretched out against his shoulders and your head pressed face-first into his chest. His sweater is tight enough that it holds you in place, and you don't have to worry about falling. It means that you're able to fully relax, and Sirius can hear your rampant purring from where he sits on the couch with a sour scowl on his face.

"If you just wore warmer clothes, you wouldn't be pissy right now," Remus muses, not bothering to grace the man with a glance away from his novel, "She only likes me 'cause my sweater is warm."

That's not entirely true. While Remus does tend to dress for comfort, and Sirius for style, Remus runs naturally hotter than your boyfriend. You don't have the heart to tell him that, though, so you mewl in agreement to Remus's statement.

"Sweaters are dumb," Sirius spits, and no one bothers to mention that he has a small collection of them for the snowy days on the grounds, "I look better in leather."

"Your loss," Remus shrugs, and to add insult to injury, reaches up to scratch a spot behind your ears that only makes your purring louder.

"This is bullshit," Sirius finally huffs, breaking his facade of gloomy indifference, "Prongs, get over here."

James, all too eager to help out his friend and soak up affection to boot, has no problem tipping over sideways to lay in Sirius's lap.

But the man lifts James's head out of his lap by his curls, "No, no, no, not James. Prongs."

"You want me to-?" James asks, but doesn't dare finish, because the prospect of transforming right in the common room sends a shiver of mischief down his spine that he'd be a fool to question, "On it."

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah," Sirius nods, sneering haughtily at Remus, "You're not the only one that's good for a cuddle, Moony. Look at this," He gushes, as James begins his transformation, skin giving way to tight, short fur and enormous antlers that nearly grate against the stone walls around you.

"Oh, he's a perfect fit." Remus nods resignedly, content to continue rubbing at your ears rather than chastise his friends for trying to fit a stag on a loveseat, "Yeah, that'll work nicely- ooh, careful Sirius, almost got stabbed there."

Sirius dodges a prong off of James's antlers, taking them in his hands and holding James's head steady as the oversized buck folds his knobbly knees into Sirius's lap. The back two can't make it, but James fits them clumsily onto the cushion, maintaining his balance out of dramatic willpower rather than the laws of physics.

You decide once they settle that they're no longer in need of your attention, so you turn your head back towards Remus and burrow your face back into his warm chest. You feel it shake with mirth beneath you, presumably at an overdramatized reaction from the two boys opposite you, but you can't bring yourself to care; sleep is at the forefront of your brain in this form.

"Yeah, get real cozy!" Sirius insists, calling so that you can hear him through Remus's thick sweater and beneath the weight of his hand on your ears, "Whatever! We're cozy over here, too, 'never been more comfortable- ah! Prongs, watch the hooves!"

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

Pancakes, Coffee, And Kisses || Yan Husband x GN Reader

Characters: Julian

Summary: Your Husband is a literal dream! Why is there blood on his coat?

Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness, violence

a/n: He has no rival, he's too clingy

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Yan Husband who you met in a coffee shop some time ago. You two bonded over a shared favorite drink which turned into finding out you two had gone to the same school and even shared classes. This just pushes you two into a relationship and a short few years later, he's at the altar with you sharing wedding vows with you.

Yan Husband who made sure your wedding was extravagant. Nothing compares to his love for you so whatever you wanted for your wedding was a must! He had the money and his parents were more than willing to help him out. They adored you and were so happy to have you as a child-in-law. Their son was happier about having you as a spouse.

Yan Husband who plans the honeymoon perfectly. Your dream location. Your dream hotel. Your dream everything! Both the wedding and honeymoon were like dreams for you, and he couldn't have asked for more. Anything to make you happy. And it shows through all the hurtles he was going through for you.

Yan Husband who takes pictures of everything from both the wedding and honeymoon. He just wants to be reminded of the happiest moments of his life. All the pictures have been framed and cover a whole wall of the house you two live in together. The house was bought before you two got married.

Yan Husband who would rather be the working man while you stay home. Oh the image he has in his head. You in a cute little apron baking sweets for him while he comes home from a long day at work, de-stressing with the treats you made and you in his lap while he tells you about his day.

Yan Husband who would respect if you want to keep your job, but he makes it clear that he's jealous of your coworkers. He gets so mad when you come home late claiming you had a business project with someone else. Why can't you two work the same job within the same building?

Yan Husband who secretly wouldn't mind being the house husband. Vocally, he's adamant about being the stay at home caregiver but the thought of taking care of you the way a house husband would make him see hearts. However, he always wants to provide for you.

Yan Husband who pampers you every weekend no matter what. He has to make sure you're happy. When you aren't, he gets so scared. When you aren't happy then he isn't either. You don't realize how dependent he is on you to feel emotions.

Yan Husband who is on the fence about kids. He does want them albeit through pregnancy or adoptions (if you can't have kids), he doesn't care. His issue is that they would take away from the time you two have and consume more of your attention. He needs to be your number one priority.

Yan Husband who doesn't mind pets as much. They're just animals, there's no way you would love pets more than him! And he can stick pets into a room or outside with the excuse that the animal needed it, or they were being too much so he needed time away from them. Since the pet is out of the way for a bit, why don't you two cuddle?

Yan Husband who is a petty little shit whenever you make plans with other people. He pouts when you get home from a friend's night and just tells you to leave. It's clear you don't need him anymore! You have your good friends and drinking buddies.

Yan Husband who holds grudges against the people that take your attention away but controls his urges well because he's married to you! You're not going to cheat on him! You two are bonded till death do you part, and not even death will keep him away from you.

Yan Husband who requires constant reassurance that he's still enough for you. Even when he becomes tired and can't do the usual when he's with you, which is worshiping your entire being, that you still want to stay married to him. Just hold him close in bed and pamper him with affection.

Yan Husband who takes milestones very seriously. Date nights, birthdays, anniversaries, you name it, and it'll be all about you in an enchanting evening. Flowers and treats along with gifts. It's all for celebrating you! The love of his life!

Yan Husband who will spontaneously bring you flowers when he gets home. He always gives you a compliment that's flower related when he gives them to you. You're more lovely than the flowers he brought.

Yan Husband who spoils you with breakfast every morning. It's amazing if you two start your days at the same time and get home around the same time. It's like you two are in sync, and it furthers his belief that you two are soulmates.

Yan Husband who will push your family away from you by taking you to his parents and show how loving his family is with him. See? This is how a family should be! You don't need your family, you have him and your in-laws. You don't need anyone else.

Yan Husband who slowly gives in to his delusions the longer you two are married. He uses the wedding rings as a way to stake his claim on you. His name is engraved in your ring, and he got you a matching necklace. Anyone who walks by will see how loved you are.

Yan Husband who loves when your friends are jealous of him. He relishes in the fact that your friends see him as a loving husband and wish their partners were like him. It further proves that he's treating you so well, and you could have been with some loser.

Yan Husband who keeps tabs on you through your texts. It's a lot less suspicious since you're both married to each other. You trust him enough to go through your phone. In fact, you would think it's cute how he takes selfies of himself with your phone. It's his way of keeping others away when you show people your photos.

Yan Husband who would burn the world for you, his lovely spouse. Nothing is too much for him in his eyes. If it just brings even the smallest of smiles to your face then he'll do it. Anything you ask. Just love him forever, until you're both buried six feet down, and he can guarantee a happy life with you.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[milkzoro]

humping turned to fucking. who woulda guessed.

t. Law

- clit overstim* creampie* consensual*

\\ ୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ

he was in the perfect position; beneath you on the living room couch, and in between your thighs. you arched your back and grinded up and down, losing yourself in the feeling of almost catching your release against his clothed cock.

soft whimpers left your lips, taking your time with all of your rhythms and motions as you rode him.

he pulled you against him eagerly, probably leaving more than a few fingerprint-sized bruises across your skin. law cared nonetheless, just as long as he could get you close.

his hips tried to fuck into you, but the fabrics containing him prevented it. you could feel him grow restless and become annoyed at the fact that you were moving a little too slow for his liking.

“please— can i fuck you?” he blurted out. the long fingers you knew all too well tugged on your panties as their owner waited for you to answer. “i’m gunna cum if you don’t stop.”

his pleas were cute.

“wanna fuck you so bad, y/n.”

“can i?” …

his eyes turned dark as soon as you allowed him to have more. you slipped off your panties and so desperately needed him to stretch you out. the cold slick of his precum met with your warmth sending shivers across your skin.

he was buried inside you. gifting you lots of deep strokes with his forehead pressed against yours, panting pretty little things like,

… ‘you’re mine.’ … ‘fuck.’ … ‘all mine.’ …

repeatedly.

in the midst of it all, you took his hand in a soft grip and guided them around the tight seal of his cock stretching you out. your fingers remained on top of his, dragging them around slightly to collect the mix of your juices.

curiosity struck his face as he slowed down his rhythms a little, but your pretty expressions made him realize what he was lacking.

you led his fingers to where you needed them the most and your breath shuddered, “i wanna feel it here, law.” your fingers lifted off his, leaving them delicately around your aching little bud.

he mimicked your actions, still hitting you deep but now with the added stimulation to you clit. you couldn’t help but expose yourself more for him.

“law! r-right there…”

you lifted your hips up slightly off the couch for a better angle and immediately you were getting washed with your orgasm. “i’m gonna cum!!! c-CUMMING!!♡”

“shit. me too baby. gimme one more, okay?” he quickly cut you off, groaning and whining feeling the insides of your cunt. his fingers wouldn’t leave your clit as he continued to fuck you into the cushions.

“lawwww-” you cried, feeling too blissed out from all the excess attention he was giving your pussy. a second wave of pleasure was quickly building inside of you. the once cold room was now hot, sticky, and littered with your filthy sounds.

“god, you’ve got such a perfect pussy baby. i’m gonna fill you, okay? cum for me y/n, again.” he demanded.

you couldn’t keep your eyes open and your legs trembled under him, but only a small nod and incoherent nonsense was all that you could give to let him know you would do as he said.

“that’s it, fuckkkkk fuck…..”

as you let go, you kept him has close as you could. immersing yourself in his strong grip and musky sent. simultaneously, you felt his cock spurt inside of you, flooding you with warm sperm.

a kiss to your cheek and forehead came quickly after. followed by an, “i love you.” and many cuddles back on the couch.

——

*lowkey unfinished but hey i made it to wano 🙏🏻

[joedirtymadre]

Hello it’s me again !! I came to request another fic I hope you don’t mind 🤭

You could do any characters you’d like with how they would react to your cold feet/hands touching them in the middle of the night ? Much love 💜

When you touch them with cold feet/ hands 🙌

MONSTER TRIO + ACE + LAW

First Head cannon (and I really liked it. SO SEND MORE 👹)

LUFFY:

“Luffy I’m freezing, stop hogging the blanket.” You said as you tried yanking the blanket, but it wouldn’t budge. You realized that your boyfriend had it wrapped around him like a burrito. “Seriously…?” You asked yourself. You placed your cold hand on his cheek, causing him to instantly wake up. “Cold!” He groaned as he pulled back from you.

Causing him to fall to the floor, “Ow…” you heard. “Stop hogging the blanket,” you said before snatching it off of him and placing it over you. “Good night~” you smiled as you drifted back to sleep.

ZORO:

You were cuddling with Zoro in the crow’s nest late at night. “Zoro aren’t you cold?” You asked as you shivered. You pressed yourself closer onto him, hoping to warm up. “I’m not cold,” he stated. “Really? I’m freezing,” you groaned.

You slowly slid your hand under his shirt. “Ah!” He flinched. “I wasn’t lying,” you huffed. You looked up and noticed him smirking down at you.

“Well I know how we can warm you up.”

SANJI:

You were constantly drifting in and out of sleep. Waking up from how cold the ship is tonight. You looked over to your sleeping boyfriend and scooted closer to him.

Warmm. You tried to get as close as possible to him, but it still wasn’t enough.

“Sorry Sanji,” you mumbled before pressing your feet against his. “What the- oh… (Y/N)~” he smiled softly. “I’m really cold, sorry,” you pouted. “It’s fine, come here,” he said softly as he pulled you into a hug. “Better?” He asked. “Mhmm,” you said as you nuzzled into his chest.

LAW:

You shivered under your blanket. “Why is it so cold?” You asked yourself. You slowly scooted closer to Law. You mischievously smiled before placing your cold hands on his back. “Do you mind…” he muttered.

“I’m cold,” you smiled, as you switched sides and began to warm your hands. “I’m pretty cold too,” he said as he rolled over to face you. “Really? But your back is so warm,” you said, confused. He suddenly placed his hand on your cheek. “Ah!” You yelped as you pulled back. “How are your hands colder?” You asked. “Not sure, but let me warm them up too,” he smirked as he raised his hand menacingly.

ACE:

You woke up shivering, you were wrapped up in a thick fluffy blanket but you were still freezing. You looked over to your boyfriend, who was sleeping in nothing but his boxers. “Must be nice…” You mumbled to yourself.

You slowly scooted closer to your sleeping boyfriend and softly pressed your cold hands and feet against his skin. You noticed him shifting around slightly, “Feels nice…” he said softly before beginning to snore again. You smiled and scooted closer to him. So glad to have a personal hand warmer.

[thegnomelord]

just read about demon hunter reader and demon ghost cuddling, and the first thing i thought was how ghost would react if, one of these times, reader ends up having a wet dream and dry humping his ass 😋

about time that our demon thinks of getting laid, he's disgusted and turned on at the same time

Sorry this took a while lads :Dd, I'm getting back into writing after all that shit with my school but I got a summer job as an assistant medical worker with 12h shifts every other day so It might take a bit for me to write stuff.

Hush, Hunter

CW:NSFW, MDNI, demon Simon Ghost Riley x male hunter reader, grinding, wet dreams, handjob, blowjob, size difference (demon ghost is like 11 feet tall.)

Your ‘husband’ is strange, even by demon standards.

He grumbles about the inconvenience brought on by your mortal failings and fragility, growling whenever you have to stop at a gas station to buy food or at some dingy motel to sleep. He grumbles even more about being confined in the stolen human skin suit he's forced to wear to blend in.

You can ignore the stranger with the stolen face and hellfire eyes throwing dark glares at you for the most part, except for when the demon decides to make the binding ring around your finger heat up when you spend too long talking to the pretty cashier. And it only takes a few more seconds of not paying heed to the incessant burn before Ghost Simon looms behind you, glaring at the flustered cashier like she’s a fey trying to trick you into the Fey Lord’s court.

And the big bastard never gives you any explanation on why he’s acting like that, just drags you back to your car, slamming the doors closed with enough strength to shake the entire vehicle. He’s like a cat honestly; hisses at you, but doesn’t want to let you out of his sight or claws.

But when your nightmares get so bad your only chance of sleeping is on the floor, well hidden behind the bed with your back flush with the dingy motel wall, Ghost surprises you by laying down with you. Sure he grumbles about the demeaning position - laying like some mongrel dog - but he still does it.

Ghost is on his side, his broad muscular back to you, rough inky scales swallowing all the moonlight that filters through the blinds and turning him into a pitch black wall of muscle. He’s so still you might even think he’s sleeping – you know he’s not; demons aren’t tied to mortal laws, nor are they subject to time’s iron grip, that’s what makes hunting demons so dangerous. The only indication you have that he’s awake is the occasional twitch of his tail and the slight shuffle of his wings when you accidentally get closer to him in your attempt to get a comfortable position.

You flinch when his one wing spreads out and back, but the blanket of black and blood dyed feathers soon eases the tension in your body. Probably too quickly, definitely too quickly, but Ghost doesn’t draw attention to it and neither do you and the night is cold and he is blissfully warm and he stays stock still when you shuffle a bit closer. You're glad he pays no attention to you when you get comfortable against him, barely an inch of space between you two.

His feathers tickle your face, they’re softer than you’d expect a wrath demon to have, fluffy like the down of chicks. His scent invades your nose, rough leather and steel oil and something distinctly demonic you can’t name. . . but it’s strangely comforting.

Laying only an inch or two away from a demon goes against everything you’ve ever been taught. Your nerves should be on a razor’s edge, but instead you’re calm. You don’t know why your fucked up mind finds comfort in the fact a possible threat would need to go through half a ton of murderous wrath demon to get to you. And you don’t want to think about it either, you’ve had far too many sleepless nights for your brain to care how you manage to sleep so long as you do. And the moment you close your eyes, you’re out like a light.

Ghost has gotten used to your nightmares.

Just like his father’s absent love, your nightmares are consistent. He’s almost impressed how such a frail thing like you could hunt the likes of hydras and Hell Dukes when you barely sleep a wink most nights. The longest you’ve gone is a couple of hours of restful sleep before you woke up trying to claw your eyes out. You never talk about it, nor does he, Ghost may be a demon but he knows far too well how the mind can haunt someone.

And Ghost has gotten good at telling apart the individual nightmares by how you squirm in your sleep.

It takes a little longer for the nightmare to start than usual, but he knows you’re neck deep in it when you heart starts it’s frantic drumming in your chest. He ruffles his feathers as your hands grip his sides, your breath fanning over his skin. He thinks it might be the basilisk haunting you this time by the way you press yourself flush with his back, burying your face into the space between his shoulder blades until your nose is flush with his spine, back hunching to further shield your eyes.

Ghost doesn’t, nor will he ever, mention the low happy rumble that escapes him when you snuggle up to him. His feathers fluff up, the scratchy hair of his tail flattening down - about as silk soft as he can make them. It’s little better than throwing pearls before swine, you won’t remember any of this after all, but doing this strangely doesn’t feel as much of a burden as it should.

Usually the low deep purring growling will chase away your nightmares and lull you into a dreamless sleep for a little while, but not this time. You squirm against his back like an eel, muscles tensing to grip his sides until dregs of pain dance along his spine. Your breath fans across his scales, your heart pounding in his ears like that of a rabbit’s caught in a snare. He’s just about ready to turn around and wake you before he feels it—

Your arousal pokes his back, hard like iron.

Only now does he pick up the slight sweetness of arousal in your adrenaline rich scent. “Hm- fuck.” You mumble as you roll your hips to grind your cock against him. “Slow- fuck fuck- slow down.” You breathe out, and Ghost swears this must be another part of his father’s eternal punishment. The sudden thought that your dream is of a sexual nature smites him with all the intensity of his father’s rage.

Who do you think you are, taking his little mercies for granted? Who do you think you are, grinding against him like some mongrel mutt? Who do you think you are holding him as if you are more than the eventual reward for the maggots fervent prayers? Who do you think you are—

“Ghost- Simon. . .” His name, his original name, leaves your lips; it’s the softest he’s ever heard you speak.

“Human.” He seethes and rolls around, pushing the warm feeling –warm like a campfire compared to the blistering pits down below that usually dwell in his chest– out of his mind. “Disgusting.” You’re so small compared to him, your head could easily fit in his rough hand, a momentary lapse in the binding’s protection all that it would take for his flesh rending claws to cleave through your skull. He’s thought about it often, of the look in your eyes as your life fades, of how good your blood would taste, of how nice your shoulder would look with his teeth marks on it. . .

His hand is gentle as he reaches to brush your cheek, like he’s handling glass, rumbling when you lean into the touch. “Wretched thing.” He growls, hand sliding from your cheek to your back and pulling you close. He feels you nuzzle into his wide chest, carefully bullying his thigh between yours, steel hard muscle tensing to give you a good surface to grind on. “Nothing more but a mongrel waste of flesh.” He doesn’t notice how quickly his voice has lost heat, barely above a murmur as he listens to your breathless gasp and watches your back arch.

For someone usually so guarded, you are painfully naked in flesh and soul, responding so wantonly to his touches; from low moans to soft little murmurs of ‘Simon’ and ‘more’ that has him mindlessly rubbing his thigh against your crotch in hopes of getting more of those so painfully human sounds. You moan and nuzzle into his chest, your body like soft clay in his hands now that you’re no longer shackled by the chains of pride and prejudice that your mind conjures around him

You’re like a strange bug to him; a part of him wants to pin you down, to tear you apart with vicious claws and see if there’s anything different in the way your heart beats, in the way your lungs move, in the way you exist — something substantial to show why holding you in his arms doesn’t feel as degrading as it should.

He wonders, briefly, if this is what God saw that made him love Adam so much. Why God did not have the heart to kill Adam for his disobedience.

Greed moves his hands like they’re puppets on strings, flesh rending claws carefully tracing the bumps of old and fresh scars that dot your abdomen — perhaps you aren’t so pathetic, it takes strength to survive this long. Your skin prickles from his touch, your breath fanning over the rough belly scales protecting his front as his hand slowly moves down. He hooks a claw under the band of your underwear and pulls down until your cock springs out right into Ghost’s hand.

Ghost hasn’t seen many cocks before, why would he?, but a low sound comes from his chest at how neatly your cock fits in his hand, how neatly all of you fit against him. And only now does it dawn on him that he doesn’t know how to do this— he’s a wrath demon for fuck’s sake, he understands war and bloodshed like it’s the back of his hand, but this? This is new territory.

Well, he’s never been one to back down when he’s gotten this far.

His hand slowly closes into a fist, just a little loose around you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t be anything but gentle in the way he strokes you. Your hips move on their own, gentle little rocks to fuck your cock into his fist and he follows along with the motion. It’s a little rough at first, he feels how the dry slide of his hand makes you shiver, but he soon finds a nice pace as your precum eases the glide of flesh on flesh.

He wants to see your face when you moan, but he can’t bring himself to pull you away from his chest when you cling to him so sweetly, your lips mindlessly ghosting over his scales. So he contends himself with coiling his tail around your leg, draping a wing over you so there’s a barrier between you and the rest of the world, so no creature from heaven high or deep below may entertain the thought of taking what’s his.

No good thing lasts for long.

He feels you wake like the first thaw in spring, slow and gradual, eyes fluttering open, mind still clouded with pleasure to really understand the position you’re in. He takes advantage of that, gripping your hip to keep you close, swirling his tumb in the precum beading at your head and squeezing his hand just right to coerce a breathless moan from your chest.

Then your eyes snap open, realisation hitting you with the same intensity as the punch you throw at his skull. But the ‘marriage’ turns that show of force into a gentle caress of the skull cheek of his ‘face’. “Ghost what the fuck are you-” You begin, cut off as another clench of his hand has you gripping his forearm and biting your lip to silence yourself. 

“Oh hush hunter.” Ghost rumbles low in his throat, his wing tensing behind your back to bring you in closer, soft blood dyed feathers encasing you in a cocoon of warmth against his cool belly scales. “No need to wake the other worms.” Disdain and mockery drip from his voice like molasses, yet strangely it doesn’t feel aimed at you. . . it must just be the pleasure making you believe that.

“You- bastard!” You snarl, trying to summon the hunter savagery that had been meticulously beaten into you, but it slumbers like a fat cat. “Fuck off- get away from me.” You aim to slam your fist against his scaled abdomen, just a little lower and to the side where the floating ribs should be, but all you manage is a slow caress of his side and back up his chest where you can feel his eternal soul burning beneath the flesh.

He laughs and slides his hand down, rolling your balls in his wide hand and squeezing just enough to be at the edge of pain– shit, that should not feel so good. You hiss and throw your head back despite the inherent danger of exposing your throat. He tilts his head down, ghostly breath washing over your ear, “We both know if you wanted this to stop you would have done so.” Oh, now you can just feel the mockery in his voice, sweet like honey that it is.

Some petulant part of you thinks of arguing, anything to retain what remains of your damn pride, but then he slides his hand back up, pressing your cock against your stomach and grinding the palm of his hand against your shaft and all the thoughts of arguing are pushed to the side by the tide of pleasure. Fuck, it’s been far too long since you ‘took care’ of things, it’s not like you have much time to wank off, let alone with Ghost hanging over your shoulder like some grim reaper. And hell, if any other hunter heard you let a damn demon jack you off, yours would be the next head put on the stake but. . . but Ghost is surprisingly gentle with you, not a single hint of pain coming from his touches, not even from his claws gently running down your side.

“Fine-” You suck in a sharp breath, head fixed to stare directly at his chest. “Make it quick.”

You feel him smirk against your ear, “As you wish, hunter.” He laughs lowly, like you’re nothing but a cute puppy chewing on his shoelaces, “Though, you should thank me for debasing myself like this.” He growls, and with a sharp move of his wing he rolls you on your back. 

You gasp as your back hits the sleeping mat, and before you can even struggle Ghost looms over you, a wall of muscle and dark scaled flesh. “Fuck no.” You growl, some scraps of pride still clinging to your mind, though even those are threatened when his broad hand returns to stroking your cock, faster this time, the drag of his palm making pleasure sizzle up your spine. Your head rolls back to rest on the mat and you don’t even notice when you close your eyes. You’re not sure how Ghost is so good at this, something sharp like jealousy curling in your stomach at the thought of him doing this to someone else. But it’s hard to think when you can feel and hear him purring, his claws gently tracing your stomach and leaving lingering heat everywhere they touch.

You jump as something slick brushes over your balls, “Look, good hunter.” He growls and you listen without thought, eyes wide when you see his tongue— it extends from the darkness of his head just beneath the rotten upper teeth of his skull, long, black, thick strings of oil coloured spit dripping off his tongue. “That’s better,” He purrs; you’re not sure how he can talk, and you’re unable to ask because he leans in closer until your cock rests against his skull, his hellfire eyes burning in the darkness and giving just enough light for you to see his long black tongue curl around your base like a snake. 

Shit– he wants to kill you.

“Holy fuck Ghost-” You breathe out, lungs burning before you remember how to breathe. His tongue moves, squeezing your base and sliding lower to lap at your balls. You’re forced to bite your finger to stop the painfully pathetic sound burning on your tongue.

He stops moving and you’re thankful he doesn’t mention the whine that slips past your lips. “Simon.” He demands, oily spit clinging to your skin and making it tingle with heat.

“Simon.” You nod along dumbly, “Fuck- Simon.”

“Good.” You imagine he’s smiling when he says that, his hand returning to stroke your cock in reward. “Call me that again.” He says, a purr rumbling in his chest and you can’t help but moan at how the vibrations travel through his tongue, making it act like a vibrating toy.

Your hands fly to grip his horns, the pleasure making you throw your head back yet you try to keep your eyes on him, hiccuping his name between harsh breaths. He doesn’t mind the touch on his horns, leaning into the touch before flicking his tongue at your taint. He rewards you for each time you say his old name, tongue and hand working in tandem to slowly and steadily march you towards release. 

You try to tug on his horns to warn him, or maybe to pull him away, but he pays no heed; he doubles his efforts, wetly slurping at your balls and base while his hand toys with your crown, his free hand holding your hips down so all you can do is weather the pleasure until you’re finally pulled under the waves. “Simon-” You gasp, cum spurting all over his hand and your stomach. 

You watch through lidded eyes as he retracts his hand, keeping his gaze on you as he lazily licks up your cum from his hand. “Better than I expected.” He rumbles, more to himself than you, leaning up to drag his long slimy tongue across your stomach to gather up all your cum.

 Shit, that sight got you hard again before you could even soften.

You’re not sure if the greed you see spark in his eyes makes you scared or even harder, but you’re not left any room to think further about it before his tongue wraps around your cock again.

Unfortunately for you, demons have no concept of time as mortals know it, so his ‘quick’ ends up being the entire rest of the night. At one point you get to the point you’re sure Ghost is trying to kill you with all the pleasure, spit polishing your cock until he’s satisfied and by that point the sun is rising and your voice is hoarse.

You can’t meet the gaze of the motel receptionist in the morning, but Ghost Simon, looks smug like the cat who ate the canary.

[merbear25]

Asking one piece men “ass or tits (or personality)”😇

Hey, hey! These types of asks are fun to think about 🤭so thank you for sending this in! I added thighs because why not?? :) I hope you like what I’ve written for you. 💜💜

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, headcanons

What they’re into x OP men

Ass: Zoro, Ace, Sanji, Kid, Smoker, Doflamingo, Shanks, Crocodile

They can’t help themselves. When you sway and shake your hips, their hands roam your backside, gripping and slapping your soft skin. Seeing that handprint on you when coupled with the sudden ‘smack’ fuels their desires to make both of you unravel. Preferred position: doggy. They want to see how that ass looks when they rail you from behind.

Tits: Sanji, Shanks, Doflamingo, Buggy, Rosinante

The way your breasts are hugged by your top makes it hard for them to look away. When you hug them, just that slight press against them sends them into a frenzy. They adore hugging you from behind, so they can snake their hands up your top and play with your loveliest parts. Preferred position: cowgirl. Watching the sway of your breasts is hypnotic and makes it hard not to lean up and suck on them.

Legs/thighs: Law, Mihawk, Sanji, Buggy, Caesar

Cuddling is something that they absolutely look forward to. Their hands wander up and down your legs, massaging them lightly, squeezing a bit on your upper thighs to coax you into giving them the reaction they are after. Preferred position: eating you out. Whether you’re on your back, standing up, or sitting on their face, the feeling of your thighs lightly squeezing and trembling against their face is enough to leave them completely satisfied.

Personality: Luffy, Law, Usopp, Franky, Rosinante

You’re their ray of sunshine, someone who they feel like truly understands them and because of that they want to make you feel incredible. Knowing how much you mean to each other is the greatest motivation to lose yourselves in the soft love you have. Preferred position: any that makes it easy to hold you closely. They want to deepen the connection they have with you, meaning sex is sensual and involves eye contact.

[lehguru]

Could you do how one piece characters comfort their crying girlfriend?!:D

CRYING + ONE PIECE MEN

zoro, law, luffy and rosinante comforting you while you're crying!!

info: pure fluff!! i tried to not specify why reader was crying, so it could be as broad as possible, also im aware that the quote by pylades is overused but im in love with it leave me alone (/lh), gender neutral — ko-fi

roronoa zoro froze upon seeing you like that. you were taking way too long to get out of your shared room, you said you were "just changing to something warmer" and taking that amount of time to do so concerned him. when he opened the door, you were kneeling on the floor, your face buried on a pillow against the bed; after hearing his footsteps, you felt even more tears come out of your eyes.

your name fell out of his lips in such a soft and gentle tone, you almost thought it wasn't your boyfriend there. "what happened?" he asked, kneeling next to you and placing a hand on top of your head. you looked up at him, your eyelashes and your undereyes completely wet; you blinked at him, processing his question, and immediately started to cry again. you threw yourself into his arms and he held you, hugging you protectively—one of his arms hugged your waist, while the other cradled your head.

you kept on sobbing against him, hearing the way his heart pounded faster in his chest. zoro was quiet, his eye closed and his jaw was visibly clenched—he wished that he could get all the pain you have and put it on himself, he could handle it for you. "hey," he suddenly said, making his chest rumble, "i'll be here when you're ready to talk about it. or don't want to talk about it– i just... i'm here. for you." the awkwardness of his words made you choke out a giggle and you relaxed in his embrace. everything is going to be fine.

trafalgar d.water law didn't expect you to be the one knocking at his office door. it was late, he thought everyone—he hoped that you were too—fast asleep; upon seeing you passing the door, looking at the floor shyly, he immediately thought something was wrong. "are you okay there?" he asked you and your face immediately scrunched up, tears falling from your eyes. while you buried your face in your hands, law got up from his chair, almost dropping it to the floor. in two quick steps, he reached you and hugged you tightly; you hugged him too, your fingers pressing against his back.

"i-i'm sorry for— 'm sorry i bothered you." you managed to say between sobs, feeling the way he played with your hair to calm you down. he kissed the top of your head, so softly it almost made you melt down. "it's not a bother." he whispered, hugging you a bit tighter. "not if it's you."

he held you like that until your crying got better. pulling away slightly, he put his hands on your cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. he hated to see them and hated himself even more for not being able to stop them from falling at all in the first place. "let's go to bed, yeah? we can talk tomorrow, if you want to." you nodded and he picked you up, making his way to your shared bedroom. if he couldn't stop your tears from falling, he would at least cuddle you and make sure you feel comfortable and protected. make sure that you know he wouldn't let anything bad happen to you.

monkey d.luffy always had the right actions to make you laugh and he made you incredibly happy. that's why it was a shock to him when he saw you crying, alone in the bathroom. it was common for him to come into the bathroom while you were taking a bath, so him opening up the door, saying your name loudly, wasn't a surprise. you tried to wipe away your tears, but it was too late.

"what— are you hurt?" he immediately asked, his usual smile replaced by a frown. he kneeled next to you, one of his hands rested against your cheek, and his eyes scanned your body. you shook your head and tried to smile, but your tears started to flow again. surprising you, luffy got up and left, leaving you alone. even through your soft sobs, you could hear your boyfriend running around the house and it confused you so much, it almost made you forget why you were crying in the first place.

when luffy got back, he picked you up and carried you to the bed, carefully putting the covers over you—his movements were so gentle, it made you smile at the act. once he was satisfied with the little burrito he put you in, he sat down on the bed, his legs crisscrossing. "i don't really know what to do right now, to make you happy again." he spoke up, his big smile back on his face, and petted your head. "and if you don't know either, it's okay. i will just stay here. imma watch out for you and punch away anything that could make you sad." he punched the air and that made you giggle. it didn't take long for you to fall asleep, the comfort of the blankets and tiredness overwhelming you. just like he promised, luffy stayed there until the next morning, sitting next to you.

during your relationship, donquixote rosinante was always good at comforting you. whether it was through words that were exactly what you wanted to hear or through his small clumsy acts, he always managed to comfort you; but it didn't mean that he knew how to act upon seeing you cry.

whenever you cried close to him, he would panic, his heart almost coming out of his mouth as tears of his own started to build up on his eyes. his first instintic was to hug you, but he immediately remember that could make you uncomfortable. breathing in and out, rosinante kneeled in front of you, trying his best to smile and murmur: "is there anything i can do to help you?"

you shook your head, a soft 'i don't know' leaving your lips through a sob, and he hummed. "would cuddling or a hug make you feel lighter?" this time, you nodded and he immediately embraced you, cooing praises and caring words while rubbing circles on your back. he knew that doing just that wouldn't show you the full extent of how much he loves you, how seeing you like that and not knowing why you were crying was like hell to him. if it cheered you up, he would reach inside his chest and give you his heart—it was already yours anyway.

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