#jumping and turning and falling and rolling over and it was absolutely ridiculous

[adnauseum11]

Entry Control Point (John Price x Reader)

You spend the night at John's for the first time since you started dating. You have a revelation.

1.5k words

CW: nipples

This has been idling in Teen but the spice level is going to take a jump shortly, sorry if that's not your thing.

You are so used to John’s steady presence in your life that you can almost forget that things have changed between you. Except in moments like this, that forcibly remind you - he’s allowed to have his hands in certain places now. You find his touch creeping up on you, a natural extension of the familiarity you had before. It takes a minute for you to notice it, but when you do -

“What are you doing?” You elbow John in the ribs just this side of gently. His big hand has drifted off your back and is in your back pocket, cupping and squeezing your ass cheek. 

“Hmm?” He’s going for innocent but looks too pleased with himself to pull it off properly. His beanie hat is tugged low and his collar turned up against the cold. 

“Knock it off, you absolute muppet.” You struggle to create daylight between you, realizing belated he’s been slowly reeling you into his body as you walk back to his flat after dinner.

John grins, the expression taking years off his face and making your heart swell in your chest, suddenly feeling too tight. You won’t tell him that though, because he’s pinching the material of your back pocket in between his fingers and tugging you back against his big, solid body. You half-heartedly swat at him but give up, letting his warmth bleed in to your side. 

“Took an entire city block to notice, love.” He murmurs, bending slightly to deliver the words close to your ear. 

“It did not, stop being a nuisance.” You huff with ill-hidden amusement, pausing for a traffic light to change. 

“Can’t help it, you drive me to distraction.” John retorts immediately, returning his palm to your lower back in a protective gesture as you wait for the light together. You roll your eyes but lean into him anyways. You stay wrapped up in him for the rest of the walk back in contented silence, a full belly and brisk night bookending your night. 

It isn’t until you get through the front door of his that you realize the time. You freeze, half your jacket buttons undone as you try to decide what to do. John notices, because of course he does. 

“Bit late to head back to yours now, innit love?” He’s using a careful tone of voice as he stills, watching you struggle internally. You know if you ask, he’ll take you home right now, but he’s right. It’s getting late to ask him to run around the city. 

“Yeah, probably.” You say haltingly, your hands going back to the buttons slowly. John’s working hard to keep the triumphant smile off his face, but you know him too well.  

“John –“ You begin a warning but he’s got his hands up in supplication before you can finish the thought. 

“Everything will be above board, darling. No pressure from me. I’ll sleep on the couch, yah?” His accent deepens and you narrow your eyes at him, undoing the buttons with purpose now. 

“Stop being ridiculous, you’re not going to sleep on the couch. If this is some reverse psychology shit – “

“Never.” He shakes his head and takes your coat from you, hanging it up beside his own. His warm hands fall on your shoulders, massaging gently through your shirt as he steers you into the living room. ‘Unless it’s working?” His tone hopeful.

“John!” You admonish and he chuckles, his broad chest bumping against your back. 

“Just teasing love, just teasing.” He soothes, dropping a series of kisses into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, the mixture of heat from his lips and scratchiness of his whiskers making you shiver. “Since you’re not going home do you want to watch something before bed?” 

He backs off, giving you space to fold yourself into your preferred position on the end cushion, tucking your feet up against the armrest. He leans over to grab a well-worn blanket off the back of the couch, conspicuously the most feminine thing other than yourself in the room. It’s white and thick, still soft despite years of use. It has edges that end in loose threads of yarn and has simple geometric shapes woven into the pattern. You got it for him years ago, an early Christmas present before he shipped out on mission. It has never actually left his flat, so it retains its creamy white colouring. You’re fond of braiding the loose ends together while watching movies. 

He drops onto the cushion beside yours, one large arm going over the back of the couch, bracketing you into his body. You instinctively lean into his bulk, tucking yourself under his arm and taking control of the blanket. He kicks his legs up onto the coffee table after swiping the remote, sprawling his longer form as best he can without losing any space between you.

You are part way through an old Top Gear re-rerun when something finally clicks into place. Your cheek is pressed against the hard plane of muscle that is John’s pectoral, half watching the show and half focused on his steady heartbeat. His fingers are buried in your hair, running through the strands absently. Every gentle tug making goosebumps run up and down the back of your neck, melting you a little further into him. 

The blanket, driving you home regardless of the hour, the previous fist fights with bad boyfriends – it all crystallizes in a moment of clarity as Richard Hammond screams across a rickety footbridge in an ancient Bronco, making the man at your side chuckle lowly. John Price has been sweet on you for some time. He’s just…never acted on it. And you, without any overt overtures of interest had just assumed that was how John operated. Had never seen any indication of anything other than a man chivalrous to a fault. You speculate on his retirement and the timing of his interest, losing track of what’s happening on screen. You only realize its over when John sits up, shifting you against him. 

“You alright?” Concern is colouring his tone.

“Yeah, zoned out. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize darling, ready for bed then?”

You’re loathe to move, wanting to stay cocooned with him while you process your revelation. Going to bed will raise its own anxieties, none of which have anything to do with John and everything to do with your fear of losing an important relationship in your life should this go sideways. Never mind it’s been over two decades and he’s not turned away from you yet. 

“One more show?” You ask, turning wide eyes on him. He relaxes against you again and you burrow into his side, grateful for a chance to mentally play catch up. You resettle your ear over his heart, feeling it’s comforting thump while you turn over interactions in your mind. Looking for clues, the world’s most inattentive detective. You lose track of the show again and are startled anew when John sits up, swinging his legs off the table to stand. 

“C’mon sleepy head, let’s get you ready for bed.”

“I don’t have anything –“

“You can wear whatever of mine you like, but maybe think about bringing some stuff over, hmm?” He’s wrapped around you from behind, steering you down the hallway to the bathroom, reading your mind. He hands you his toothbrush, letting you use it first and disappears to gather a shirt for you to sleep in. You stare at the toothbrush in your hand dumbly for a moment before using it. John swaps you the utensil for a shirt when he returns and goes about his business. You catch his eyes following you in the mirror though. 

The shirt in your hand is soft and familiar to you, an old one won playing darts at a pub. A good memory, filled with laughter and beer-soaked floors. Before you can think too hard you begin undressing, tossing each item haphazardly over a leather club chair in the corner.

You can feel your nipples harden in the air of the room, and as you lift your arms over your head to pull John’s shirt on you hear the clatter of his toothbrush in the sink. A muttered curse follows and by the time your head pops out of the neck hole, he’s gripping the counter and blatantly staring at you in the mirror. All the muscles down his arm are corded, as if he’s gripping the slab of countertop with all his strength.

“Are you alright, John?”

You ask innocently, and watch him swallow hard in the mirror. He nods and turns off the bathroom light, padding slowly over to you. His big palm lands on your lower back, wordlessly steering you to bed. You can’t help the rush of nervous anticipation at his nearness, but John is as good as his word. He doesn’t pressure you and lets you sleep, the both of you settling into his big bed with contented sighs. No, it’s when you wake up, wrapped around his powerful body that you should have had the foresight to be concerned about.     

Next Chapter

#john price x reader #john price x f!reader #fanfic #captain price #call of duty #sleeping together #established relationship #captain john price #falling in love #friends to lovers #john price #consent

[milkteabinniechan]

all twisted up

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY ☕|m.list

pairing: Upperclassmen Chan x Underclassmen Felix

contents: college classmates Chan and Felix need to study for exams. But Felix is stressed, and Chan has a fun way to break the tension.

a/n: this was so much fun to write!! I am caught up in this whole academia au so please let me know if you want more :))

"You look absolutely desperate like this, you know."

Felix hissed through his teeth. He hated losing. Despised it. He pushed his arm through an an available opening.

"Who's idea was it to play Twister anyway?" Felix grunted.

Chan chortled heartily as he spun the wheel for the next move. Felix could feel his arm getting numb. How he managed to work himself into such a ridiculous shape he'll never know. Somehow he was on all fours, facing upward, with his right hand looped through Chan's legs, touching the yellow circle in front of it. Barely.

"Right foot red!" Chan shouted victoriously. A red circle placed a little too perfectly in front of his right leg. He was still standing, comfortable and confident. He lightly tapped his right toe onto the red circle.

"You're cheating!" Felix huffed. His legs beginning to shake from the cumbersome position.

"How would I do that? That spinner is completely random." Chan patted Felix's head like a puppy. "I know you hate losing, buddy."

Felix shook Chan's hand off of his head. He wouldn't give up this easily. He was no quitter. He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath in, preparing for whatever the next move may be.

"Just spin the wheel, big boy." Felix gave a glaring look up at Chan.

Chan swallowed hard at the sound of being called big boy by his friend. A reaction he didn't expect his body to have. He leaned forward to spin the wheel on the floor. The tiny black needle spun fast until...

"Left foot blue." Chan muttered. They both turned to look at the next available circle. The only one even remotely possible for Felix to reach. The distance was still too far and they both knew it.

Felix took another full breath. He watched the blue circle in front of him as if it would move or jump further from him. It sat just a few inches from where his right hand was, underneath Chan. If he took his weight off his left hand to move it, he could fall. Felix knew his next move had to be made carefully. He slowly lifted himself from the crab position he was holding so that he was crouched. His right hand still holding strong, he stretched his left hand out through Chan's legs and reached for the blue circle.

In an instant, his balancing skills betrayed him. His right hand slipped beneath him, carrying too much of the weight. He fell to the matt with a thud.

"Damn it!" Felix squirmed, his leg swiping across Chan's shin, causing him to lose his balance.

Chan fell with a heaviness on top of Felix. Their faces just inches from each other. Felix's eyes were the most beautiful color, Chan had forgotten how clear they were. How they sparkled when the light caught them. Felix's breath hitched in his throat. His eyes pulled towards Chan's full lips, wet tongue resting inside. His hips swiveled underneath Chan's waist.

They were supposed to be studying. They had exams at the end of the month. Felix had to pass this semester or he'd be expelled from the university. Chan had offered to help him study. That's what they were supposed to be doing. Now Felix could feel all of the blood rushing somewhere else. His pants tightened and his hands were starting to move on their own.

Felix grabbed the bottom of Chan's shirt, and pulled it towards him. Chan eased his body down in response and craned his head up over Felix, so his entire body was towering over him. Chan playfully nudged his lips across Felix's mouth, letting their lips touch quickly, grazing himself in and out. Felix mimicked Chan's movements and let his lips flick and brush across his upperclassmen's open mouth.

Chan began to thrust his hips slowly. Felix whimpered at the feeling of the bulge against his own. Felix lifted his head in earnest and pressed his mouth against Chan's. The kiss pushed and pulled like ocean waves hitting the shore. Chan continued to grind desperately against Felix's clothed cock. Moaning filled both of their open, squelching mouths until they pulled again, a single strand of saliva still connecting them.

"I told you Twister would be fun, didn't I?" Chan growled with a smirk.

#stray kids #skz smut #writing #bang chan #chan x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan #felix fluff #felix scenarios #felix smut #lee felix #felix lee #skz chan #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz #felix skz #skz fanfic #skz felix #boy love #mlm yearning #mlm #chan smut #chanlix

[apomaro-mellow]

Steve knew it was stupid. He knew he was being ridiculous. But also, no he wasn’t and he had every right to feel the way he felt. Eddie had several nicknames for him. All of which made him feel all warm and gooey on the inside but you’d never hear him admit it. As it turned out though, he was not the only one who got the pet names.

And Steve swore if he heard Eddie call anyone else ‘sweetheart’, ‘darlin’’, or god forbid ‘baby’, he would find them and see for themselves what made them so great and maybe give ‘em a piece of his mind. It would fall on deaf ears though, seeing as Steve’s rival was Eddie’s guitar.

Eddie loved that thing like, well like he loved Steve. At least it seemed that way when he would caress its strings and call it baby.

But what made it super unfair and not just plain ol’ unfair was that Steve couldn’t stay mad at the guitar for too long.

Because Eddie was so fucking sexy when he played it.

Every time he watched the band play, he felt exactly like a stereotypical groupie, wanting nothing more than to rush the stage. It was like Eddie knew how to sit his guitar right where he should on his hips and thrusting at the right beat to drive him wild. Steve definitely would’ve thrown his underwear on stage at one point if Eddie didn’t already own a few pairs.

Whenever he saw that guitar hanging innocently in Eddie’s room, Steve contemplated smashing the thing. When Eddie was front and center, shaking his hair, fingers flying across the strings, Steve wanted to lick the guitar up and down.

He was able to keep it under control whenever it was an actual performance, which he tried not to miss. Ever. Practices were different. Because Steve didn’t know if he could keep his hands to himself whenever it was just him, the band, and the garage. All of Eddie’s bandmates knew the two of them were dating, and once they got past the weirdness of it being Steve, their only hang-up was the disgusting amounts of PDA between them. 

Steve knew it was a lot. If it was anyone else, he’d be rolling his eyes and visibly gagging as well. But he couldn’t keep his hands off of Eddie and he wasn’t going to apologize for that. Not when he had someone just as physically clingy as him.

But he was at practice today. Because the night before Eddie had spent much too long ‘doing maintenance’ and otherwise taking care of his guitar which for some reason involved a lot of cooing and sweet-talking. And that of course had Steve burning with so much jealousy that he immediately jumped on the offer to come and watch them practice.

Steve leaned against the hood of his car. There was a couch inside the garage but it was at the side, meaning he wouldn’t get a good look at Eddie. Plus, he and Eddie had been banned from the couch after....an incident.

So there on his car, he was, eyes glued to Eddie as they usually were. Eddie himself was deep into the music, playing off the energy of the other members and sometimes meeting their gaze and knowing without saying a word what the other wanted. But then finally, during the last song, Eddie looked at him. And he didn’t stop looking. His hands were still magic on the guitar but as his eyes darkened, it wasn’t hard for Steve to imagine his hands being elsewhere.

The song ended but Eddie went right into something else. It wasn’t a song by any means, just an aimless strumming. Except there absolutely was an aim. He grinned as Steve pushed off from his car and began walking towards him. Mission accomplished.

“Here somethin’ you like?”, Eddie asked.

“Yeah”, Steve said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god, every time. Every time Steve Harrington is here it turns to this”, Gareth complained.

Eddie’s strumming slowed, if only a little, as he decided if he wanted to string Steve on a little longer or kiss his brains out. Steve himself seemed satisfied to stand there, their bodies inches apart while his eyes were glazed over as if hypnotized. And he truly was a sailor at the mercy of the siren call of Eddie and his music. Still, there was only so much Steve could take and it seemed unbelievable that his boyfriend was still using his hands to play when his body was within reach.

“Eddie”, he whisper-whined.

“Oh babe.” Eddie grabbed his face and crashed their lips together. Steve could feel the pick pressing against his scalp as Eddie’s fingers tangled in his hair. Their chests pressed together but that damned and blessed guitar was still in the way of Steve having his whole body molded to Eddie’s.

“Okay, the couch ban wasn’t enough”, Jeff said while the oblivious lovebirds made out. “All in favor of banning Steve completely?”

There was a resounding reply of those in agreement while Eddie was pushing Steve out of the garage and back towards his car, all without releasing his lips.

Steve didn’t mind being banned. It was probably for the best. Lest he and Eddie end up with their dicks out in Gareth’s garage again.

#personal #apo writes #fanfiction #steddie #stranger things #spicy #steve harrington #eddie munson

[writeandsurvive]

Ride or die ~ Alden Parker

This was supposed to be pure fluff (which it is), but before I know it, I'm writing soft smut lol. I'm not sorry about it.

Summary: Alden wants a new plant (yet another one)

Warnings: fluff, smut, established relationship, age gap (implied), sex on the couch, p in v, dominating!Alden, romantic!Alden, teasing, gentle banter, short!Reader (I, myself, being 155cm)

Going shopping with Alden is never a good idea. The house always ends up with a new plant. It doesn't matter what you're shopping for, in the first place. Or even if you go somewhere where there's no plants to buy. He always finds a way to worn you down, giving you his saddest puppy eyes and/or most charming smile. You kinda hate him for it.

"The greenhouse is full, Den. Wait for one of them to die."

"You know the goal is to keep them alive, right? Plus, it's a plant I don't have yet."

You do love how he's passionate about plants, that's actually one of the many things that made you fall in love with him. But what you don't like is having to take care of them when he gets caught up with work. He does his best to take care of them himself, especially after the second plant you killed, but being a federal agent asks a lot, and sometimes you find yourself on plant duty.

"And you know the patio was also supposed to be for me to paint, right?" You mimicked him.

"You still got space! One tiny plant won't change that." He took his eyes off the road for a second to look at you with a soft smile. You felt his hand on his thigh, squeezing.

"You're annoying." You rolled your eyes, and saw his soft smile turning into a proud grin. He knows he's winning, not that you could forbid him to buy a new plant anyways.

You take your phone from your pocket, to look at something. Alden pulls over his favorite store to get plants, and gets ready to leave the car when you grab his arm to stop him. "You changed your mind?" He starts showing off his puppy eyes.

You show him your screen, "He's cute, isn't he?"

He squints his eyes to look, and realizes you're showing him a picture of a cat. "No!" He says.

"You're getting a plant, I'm getting a cat."

"Babe, a cat will destroy the greenhouse! Eat my plants!"

You giggle, "I know!"

"You're mean." He pouts like a child. "If you want a pet, let's get a dog! A turtle! A bird!" His eyes go wild as he looks at you again, like he never thought about getting birds before.

"No! Absolutely not! No birds in the house!"

He growls. "Fine. But no cat either!"

"Then let's go home, before our groceries go bad."

Alden leans over to you, his puppy eyes locked on you. "Please," he whispers close to your ear, knowing it's your weakness. "You promised my old man you'd always make me happy." You laugh at that and he follows, knowing how ridiculous this is.

"I'm sure Roman would be on my side for this."

"He's always on your side! I'm starting to think he loves you more than me."

"Well, I wasn't a juvie."

"That's a cheap shot!" He pinches your thigh as a quick punishment, making you jump on your seat.

"Parker! It hurts!" You slap his arm.

"Indeed. So I'm getting a baby plant to make myself feel better." He kisses your lips, before nipping it and leaving the car. You love this man so much it hurts.

~

"You better help me put the groceries away before spending an hour finding a place for your plant."

"Yes ma'am." Alden always carries most of the groceries to the house, because he doesn't want you to carry too much, even though you perfectly can. You stopped arguing with him on that a long time ago though. "Focus on carrying my baby." He says handing you the plant.

"That's something you say to your pregnant wife. And I'm neither pregnant nor your wife." You walk away after an extra sway, without waiting for him, knowing he's grunting with a smile as you do.

You reach the apartment a moment before him, giving you time to hide the plant. He doesn't realize right away, as you both put the groceries away. Somehow, you always end up having to put stuff on the top shelf, despite your struggle to reach it. But you know Alden likes it. He enjoys the view as you tiptoe - especially when you're wearing barely nothing. And of course, he takes the opportunity to come behind you. His arm follows yours, his hand brushing as he grabs the box of cereal and puts it there. His other hand puts your hair away so he can kiss your neck. "Everytime." You smile and lean into him, angling your head to give him better access.

"Advantage of dating a pocket size woman." His arms wrap around you, one of his hands softly stroking your neck. You stretch your arms behind the both of you, so your hands can touch his magnificent hair, deserving a soft 'hmmm' from him.

"Are you sure you're okay with us not getting married?" He softly asks, kissing the top of your head.

"Yes, Alden." You turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I told you I'm fine, I understand why you don't want to get married again, and we don't need that to be in a committed relationship." You kiss him, and his hand comes to hold and stroke your cheek while the other holds you tight against him. As the kiss intensifies, you can feel a bulge in his pants and if his hand slid into your panties, he could feel how wet you are getting.

But before it can get really interesting, Alden pulls away with a smirk on his face and walks out of the kitchen. "You cannot be serious right now!" You shout at him and hear him laugh. But you don't say anything more, knowing he's coming back any second, asking about his plant. So you just walk over to the couch, grab your book from the coffee table and settle there.

About twenty seconds later, Alden is in front of you, hands on his hip. "Where is it?"

"Where what is, dear?" You ask, not looking up from your book, even though you're absolutely not reading.

"Where is my baby plant?"

"Probably the same place my orgasm is."

Before you know it, the book is being thrown away and you're being pinned onto the couch, your wonderful boyfriend on top of you. "I'm gonna give you that orgasm, but" he links your wrists together to put them above your head. "Those hands stay here. If I feel your fingers on me, I'll stop here and there."

"Bossy," you tease him, trying not to show how this is turning you on. You love it when Alden gets all dominating and controlling. It's something he discovered and developed with you, which makes it extra special. Like it's a part of him that belongs to you and you only. No one ever got to see him like this and hopefully no one ever will.

"You kiss me, I stop." He adds. "You come before I allow you, no orgasm for a week."

"That's not fair!" You whine.

"You whine again, and I stop. You talk back and I stop." He holds your face, "Are we clear?" You nod.

"Good girl."

You don't move as he undresses you just enough, before pulling his already hard cock out and pumping a few times. You'll never get tired of this, of him. He can act tough and controlling, but the man doesn't even need you to touch him to get an erection. This makes you feel powerful and you love it.

Alden starts rubbing his leaking tip against your clit, earning soft noises from you. He teases your pussy for what feels like forever. "You look fucking beautiful, losing your mind under me like this." All you want to do is beg him to fuck you, but scared it'd sound like a whine, you don't say anything but his name. "I've never loved my name more than when it comes out of your mouth." So you say it again, and again.

"Fuck me." You whisper.

"I'm not sure you deserve it." His cock is replaced by his thumb, that's moving extremely slowly. "Maybe I'll just jerk off on this pretty pussy, and get on with my day."

"Make me cum, and I'll tell you where the plant is."

"God, I hope you never get tortured." You immediately feel his thick cock sliding inside you, and you moan loudly. His body is completely on top of you now, he's pampering your face with kisses as he thrusts in and out of you. His eyes lock into yours and his arms crawl under yours and he intertwines his fingers with yours. "You were made for me, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was. Fuck Den, I'm close."

"Thank god cause I can't hold back much longer." He let go of one hand to rub your clit, making sure you're both cumming at the same time. You love how he allows himself to be loud as he milks deep inside you, this sends you over the edge and you match his volume.

After a few sex sessions when you started to date, you realized how he was forcing himself to be quiet when he reached his orgasm. You asked him about it and he confessed that he was told several times that he was too loud and it wasn't pleasant - mostly by his ex wife - so he forced himself to control his noises. Of course, you told him to never do that again with you and he hasn't since, especially when he noticed how much you loved it.

Alden lays on top of you, both catching your breath. He let go of your hands so you can hold him and stroke his back and hair. "You're my ride or die, baby." He confesses.

Ever since you had the marriage conversation, and he admitted not wanting to do it again, Alden has been making sure to let you know how committed he is, and how much he loves you, and that his decision has nothing to do with you.

"I know."

A few seconds later, he's looking at you, puzzled. "What?" You ask.

"I'm not your ride or die?"

You giggle but don't say anything. "You're annoying." He sits up, pulling his soft cock out of you, making a much bigger mess on the couch. You're quick to follow, grabbing his face and kissing him. "You're my ride or die, you crazy plant lover."

"The crazy part appeared because of you." He kissed you a little more. "Now, where is it?"

You laugh and tell him. You thought he was leaving you like this, but of course he comes back with his plant and a towel for you. "And just like that, I've been replaced." You roll your eyes.

"Be glad it's not with a younger woman--"

"If you pick someone younger, it'd be illegal, Mr Federal Agent."

As you called it, it took him about an hour to rearrange the greenhouse just to find the perfect spot for his new plant. An hour you spent on the leather couch in the greenhouse, switching between reading your book and looking at your handsome man. "Come." He extends his hand to you, so you take it and follow him to where the plant is now installed. "Name it." He says, hugging you from behind.

"Why me? It's your plant."

"Do you know what exactly it is?"

"Of course not, Alden."

He chuckles. "It's a Peacelily. It'll bloom into a beautiful white flower. And it's known to remove harmful toxins from the air."

"oh, really? That's nice!" You look closer at the plant.

"I want you to name it cause it's yours. It's you." You turn around to face him, "So pure and beautiful, who takes all the negativity away whenever you're around."

You knew Alden was romantic and loving, but he was taking it to another level with this. You're close to tearing up as you hug and kiss him. "I'm the luckiest girl in the world."

"You make my world better."

You kiss more and look at the plant again. "Bonnie."

"Bonnie?"

"Yeah, and maybe we could get a grumpy, older plant, put next to it and name it Clyde."

"I sense a subliminal message there but I'll ignore it."

You laugh and hug him tight.

#alden parker #alden parker fanfic #alden parker imagine #ncis #alden parker x reader #ncis fanfiction #ncis imagine

[spacesurfing]

Hi

I've never done this before

But can I request Sodo x Reader. They had just watched a scary movie with the ghouls, and like the reader just can't get to sleep so Sodo like calms them down and soothes them or maybe sings to them.

I just watched quite possibly the scariest movie I've seen in my time on this earth and I need the comfort...

Thank you 🐉🐉

Ahh, tis the spooky night and P cannot yet fall asleep!! I would love to write this and my apologies if it is short!

•--•

Everyone Gets A Little Scared Sometimes

Dewdrop x Reader Fluff

Summary: It is a night of horrors. And a night of refusing to pee alone.

Warnings: Fluffffff

GIF NOT MINE!!

•--•

You were jumpy tonight, more so than you usually were. Why? Well, because your dork of a boyfriend decided to put on the single-handedly most scariest movie you'd ever seen. Snuggled into his arms, under a blanket, yes you felt safe but this feeling of paranoia was sent up your spine and engulfed you whole, making the shadows that the candle you had lit even more scary. You jumped at every noise, shielded your eyes every time suspense started building through music and audio cues.

And, every time you were calmed down from a scare, you were reminded of the fact that this was mandatory. It was a Halloween Eve tradition for Sodo to watch a scary movie, the scariest out at the time. Your boyfriend loved it, he absolutely adored the tradition, laughing in the face of a jumpscare and even joining in with the film by scaring you with fast movements while everything was eerily silent. He found it all funny and partially ridiculous.

But you didn't. Of course you believed in ghosts and demons and you believed in witches and bad omens. You were literally dating a ghoul.

The movie ended, a pan of the dead teenagers, turning to the end where a girl stood, blood covering her head to toe, smeared across her face as her deceased mother faded in behind her. The girl was pretty much "avenging" her mother's ghost because her mom wanted her to kill a bunch of people. Plain and simple.

"Why did they have to pop out so much? Can't they just be like normal people and just not be so creepy?" you whined a complain, hugging Dewdrop's arm. He chuckled, shifting his way up and attempting to stand, but he was kept down by your body still on the couch. You could say you were still with freight. Or still with the fact that everything seemed to move now.

"What? You wanna stay here and watch the credits roll with me?" he teased, poking your nose with his index finger. A shadow flickered on the wall, making you look around for intruders. Your ghoul sighed dramatically, "Well I have to pee, so if you wanna follow me, go right ahead."

And you did exactly that, following Sodo to the bathroom and standing there outside the door with your body pressed to it. You tried not to look around you, scared of what you might see in the shadows of your apartment. You let out a small scream, seeing the TV turn back onto the streaming screen with a sudden flash of light.

"Calm down out there, I'm almost done sweet girl," the fire ghoul laughed. You missed him being near you, he was so warm and safe and made you feel like you wouldn't actually be slaughtered.

Dewdrop opened the door, making you stumble a bit before he pulled you into his arms with a smirk, "I've never seen you want to be near me so much. I kinda like it."

You slapped his chest with you hand and he shook his head, snatching up the blanket on the couch you had and blowing out the candles, leaving on the nightlights in the kitchen. He let you cling to him the whole time before he started for the bedroom and you found relief wash over you.

Dragging you into bed with him, he covered you in blankets and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to rest your head on his chest. His hand pet your hair softly, running fingers through the delicate strands and purring at the fact that you held him like he was some sort of life support. The rumbling in his chest allowed you to calm down more, hand resting on his stomach and rubbing small circles into it.

"You know that I'll always keep you safe, right baby?" Dewdrop asked, voice startling you for a second.

"Yeah.. I'm just scared. All those things are real, Dew, things like that can happen."

He ran his hands under your hair and over your neck, trailing his hard palm to your cheek and allowing his fingers to massage your face tenderly.

"They would have to go through me. I don't think you realized that, love, I wouldn't let anything hurt you unless it killed me first. And I will stand by that as long as I am present on this very plane of existence."

You smiled into the dark, looking up to see his eager, yellow eyes glowing through the pitch black. And for the first time tonight, something so ethereal and terrifying made you feel at peace.

•--•

Masterlist

#the band ghost x reader fluff #the band ghost fluff #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost band x reader #ghost band x reader fluff #ghost band fluff #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop ghoul fluff #dewdrop ghoul x reader fluff #dewdrop ghoul x reader #dewdrop x reader #dewdrop x reader fluff #dewdrop fluff

[honeybrowne]

Day 16: Washing Hair

AARON HOTCHNER X F!READER [0.7k]

Summary: Your boyfriend returns from a case hurt, and it's only fair that you get to take care of him.

Content: Vague description of injury; fluff; one nsfw thought (this probably doesn't need to be a warning, but i'm putting it anyway)

Author's Note: I would do anything to baby this man and wash his hair. I need it so so bad :,(

Masterlist || FF Masterlist

When he's Hotch, he's the epitome of strong and capable.

When he's Aaron, he's still both of those things, but he's also a major softy.

Anything you ask for, you get, and that includes the chance to baby him when he returns from a case with a bruise along his cheekbone and a butterfly bandage holding his eyebrow together. Despite his insistence that he was fine, you were determined to do everything in your power to make sure without a doubt that he was more than just 'fine'.

He had rolled his eyes when you suggested taking a warm bath together, but he agreed all the same.

Now, with your nails lightly scratching his scalp as you worked shampoo in his hair, he's grateful he couldn't say no to you.

It was difficult not to fall asleep, the lavender bath oil calming him to the point that he was completely relaxed against you, his body weight pinning you against the tub. You didn't mind a single bit, in fact, feeling him this close was everything you needed after seeing him battered and bruised.

You knew his job was dangerous, but that still wasn't enough to prepare you.

"My love, what happened?" you had asked, panic clear in your voice as you immediately looked him over to ensure the rest of his body was intact.

The embrace you pulled him into once you were satisfied he was okay was far more powerful than he was ready for. His muscles ached in protest, but he suppressed the groan in his chest so you wouldn't feel guilty for hurting him.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," he had assured. "You should see the other guy."

With how concerned you were before, you hadn't had the chance to appreciate his joke till now.

Your unexpected giggle in his ear forces his eyes to open, and you gently remind him to keep them closed, not wanting to risk getting soap in them. It's unnecessary, he can handle a bit of soap in his eyes, but you're absolutely adorable when you coddle him, and he thoroughly enjoys it.

It gives him the chance to relax and not be so serious, which is a nice change of pace. He knows he's safe and protected in your hands, and that's all he needs.

"What are you giggling about?"

"Just thinking about what you said earlier," you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Aaron turns his head and puckers his lips dramatically, looking absolutely ridiculous. Still, you indulge him with a sweet and firm kiss.

"Remind me what I said, baby."

His voice is gruff, and you're sure it has to do with him running on hardly any sleep and the jet lag, but you tell yourself it's because you have magic hands.

You hadn't realized he stopped rubbing your legs that lay on either side of his till he started again, thumbs moving in circular motions. It sends a wave of excitement through you. Not the kind that makes you want to jump his bones, you always want to do that regardless of what he does, but the kind that tells you you'll never get used to the little things.

Physical touch is his love language and you cherish the hell out of it.

You put your hand on his forehead to protect his eyes and bandages as you run water through his hair, washing the soap away. "You should see the other guy," you repeat his words, lowering your voice to match his.

He pinches your side, and it tickles more than anything. You jostle so much that water splashes out of the tub.

"Aaron," you gasp, "look what you did."

"I didn't do that. That was all you, little miss ticklish."

He can't see your face but he knows you roll your eyes, and that makes him laugh. "Well, maybe don't tickle me."

"But where's the fun in that?"

When all the soap is out of his hair, you tip his head back, kissing his forehead. "You're lucky seeing you hurt scared the hell out of me, otherwise I'd get you back."

Your tone is somber and grateful at the same time, the unshed tears in your eyes betraying your emotions.

"Don't worry about that anymore, sweetheart. I'll be good as new with you taking care of me," he says with a smile, and you can't help but do the same.

Taglist: @spacecowboyhotch, @hotchs-bitch

#doctorstethsfluffyfeb #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #.writing

[vodika-vibes]

I’m still on the Alpha-17 train and I think I’m there for life. If you’re interested and have time would you mind writing a piece where 17 and reader are on a mission and 17 falls through an iced over body of water and reader has to save him. This can go in a hurt/comfort or spicy direction, as usual it’s your choice! Thanks for your time and happy writing!

Ice Cold

Summary: While on a mission Alpha falls through some ice while protecting you, and it changes a few things.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x Reader

Word Count: 850

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I'm not sure I'm happy with this, but I think it's okay ish?

The way you ended up in this situation is patently ridiculous. So ridiculous, in fact, that if you weren’t absolutely terrified that Alpha was about to freeze to death, you’d be laughing about it.

It started with a mission.

Why, exactly, you were sent on a mission in the first place is something you’re sure Alpha is going to rage about to someone when you get back to Kamino, but in the end it doesn’t matter.

Because you were sent on a mission.

And the mission, as they are wont to do, went wrong.

And you found yourself wandering a frozen waste, trailing after Alpha, while he cuts a path through the waist deep snow. 

At least, you had been until you were crossing a frozen river.

There was the heartstopping sound of ice cracking beneath your feet, and then strong arms hook around your waist, and you’re flung onto the shore. It takes you a moment to dig yourself out of the snow, and to stumble back to the ice, but by the time you do, Alpha has already pulled himself from the water, though he’s soaked from the middle of his chest down.

You feel a surge of panic, but you forcefully shove it back down. Panic won’t help anyone, least of all Alpha.

You drag him over to a cave, grateful that Alpha had pointed it out earlier as a potential safe haven, and you scurry around to make a fire.

Suddenly you’re happy that your dad used to drag you camping in the winter time, because you know what you’re doing, and you have a fire crackling away in a matter of minutes.

And then you hurry over to Alpha. Your fingers are sure as you swiftly tug him out of his armor, “I think I have a blanket in my first aid kit-” You mumble under your breath. “How are you feeling?”

“Cold,” Alpha bites out, “Very cold,” his teeth are chattering, and you move a little faster, setting his armor to the side, and then digging through your kit for the emergency heating blanket for situations just like this.

“I need to get your clothes off, we can lay them by the fire to dry.” You say quickly, “And then you can use the blanket-”

He’s already peeling his wet clothes off before you finish your sentence, “I took survival classes too,” Alpha reminds you as he tops his shirt next to the fire, and then his bottoms.

You hurriedly wrap him in the blanket, grateful that it’s actually big enough to cover all of him, and then you turn to lay out his clothes properly.

“Are you okay?” Alpha asks after a moment.

You jump and glance at him, “I didn’t fall into a river,” You reply, “So I’m fine.”

“You’re shivering.” He points out.

He’s right. You’re cold, and it’s only going to get colder.

“My winter gear isn’t exactly designed for this type of weather,” You admit, “But there wasn’t time to get more appropriate stuff-”

He frowns at you, and you’re pleased to see that he’s not shivering as much anymore. “Come under the blanket too.”

“I…but…you need it more-”

He rolls his eyes, “Stop being stubborn. Strip out of your clothes, and get over here.” It’s not a request, so you do as he asks, stripping and setting your clothes on a rock, and ducking under the blanket.

It’s warm. He’s warm. And it doesn’t take you long to get settled on his lap, your back against his chest. 

“This isn’t so bad,” Alpha murmurs in your ear, his arms tight around your waist, even as he makes sure that the blanket remains securely fastened around the pair of you.

You flush, “It’s embarrassing.”

He smirks, “Which part?”

“The part where I’m naked and on your lap. I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to…to take advantage of you or-” You stammer.

He hums and rubs his nose under your ear, “If anyone is taking advantage, it’s me. You would have just stayed over there and froze if I hadn’t ordered you under the blanket with me.” Alpha reminds you, “I’d feel guilty about it, but I don’t.”

You squeak out something that might have been a word, but probably also wasn’t.

“When we get back to Kamino, we can be naked together properly.” Alpha promises, a low laugh falling from him as you squeak, “After all, it’s what I’ve been wanting for ages now…and you can’t pretend that you haven’t been admiring me.”

“You saw that?”

“Every time. You weren’t exactly subtle with the way you were staring. Why do you think I started working out shirtless? I’ll give you a hint, it wasn’t because the training room was too warm.”

You flush darker, “Sorry.”

“I’m not complaining. I like showing off for you.” Alpha teases, he shifts your weight slightly, “Are you comfortable?”

You nod mutely, “Do you think the storm will stop in the morning?”

“I’m sure it will.” Alpha replies, “Get some rest, cyare. We have a lot to do in the morning.”

#star wars #tcw #alpha-17 x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #answered asks

[drarrily-we-row-along]

11. Barefoot

Harry'd never seen Draco with a single hair, a single button out of place.

It was fucking hot, if Harry was being honest, which why wouldn't he be? At least in the privacy of his own head.

Draco was always posh, always pristine; tailored robes and tailored suits, shoes always shined, platinum hair in a perfectly coiffed undercut. It drove Harry wild; desperate to muss him up a bit.

And nothing. Absolutely nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently seeing.

Draco Malfoy was standing by the pool, a strand of (silky, soft) hair hanging over his eye, shirt unbuttoned halfway down his (ridiculously toned) chest, his linen trousers rolled up to expose his (unfairly delicate) ankles. And he was barefoot.

Godric. Harry didn't have a thing for feet but something about seeing Draco's made him want to fall to the ground at his feet and never move. They were very pretty, honestly; delicate, long, slender, with graceful high arches. And it made him look strangely vulnerable.

Harry ached with it.

"Potter," Draco said, long fingers snapping at him.

His eyes snapped up to Draco's face to find the other man smiling at him in that peculiar way he did sometimes. All exasperated fondness, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Mmm?" he managed inelegantly.

"How drunk are you? It's like you were staring through me into all of time and space," he chuckled as he planted himself beside Harry on the edge of the pool and dipped his feet into the water.

(read more below the cut)

"Very," Harry lied because he couldn't very well admit that he'd just been staring longingly at Draco's feet.

Draco tilted his head toward the drink in Harry's hand, "What do you spike sparkling water with?"

Harry blinked over at him, he always forgot how bloody observant the other man was. "Vodka," he lied quickly.

The corner of Draco's mouth curved up and he took a breath but then seemed to think better of it. "Everyone's around the fire pit," he commented.

"Yes," he agreed.

"Except you."

He hummed, not sure what response Draco was looking for from him.

"And me," he added.

Harry turned his head so he could look at him properly.

"Are you actually drunk, Harry?"

He swallowed, wondering what his answer should be, wondering what Draco wanted him to say. "Why?" is what came out of his mouth a few seconds later.

"Because you're even more forthcoming when you're drunk than usual."

It was his turn to smile at the other man, "What are you hoping I'll say?"

Draco stared at him for a long moment before wrapping his lips around the mouth of his beer bottle and finishing it in one long pull.

He couldn't help but watch the way his neck muscles worked as he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing. The urge to lean in, to lick, to suck, to nibble on the other man's long neck was almost overpowering.

Then, when he'd finished his beer he stood up and Harry shifted back on his hands so he could see what he was doing.

Draco's fingers went to the buttons on his shirt and Harry's mouth went dry, his own fingers tingling with desire. He made quick work of them before pulling his shirt off, and Harry was met with the sight of a lightly muscled chest, and two petal pink nipples. Harry's mouth had dropped open but he didn't really think there was anything he could possibly do to stop it.

When he finally managed to draw his eyes upward, Draco was smirking at him, one eyebrow raised. "I'm going to go for a swim," he said, and his hands moved to his trousers, unbuttoning and unzipping before hooking his thumbs in the waistband and pulling them off. He stood there for one moment, in nothing but a pair of very tight boxers that left little to the imagination, before saying, "join me?" and jumping into the pool.

Harry sat there stunned, uncertain if he was hallucinating (it wouldn't be the first time he'd accidentally eaten a hallucinogen at Luna's), and feeling like he must be losing his entire mind.

But what a way to go, he couldn't help but think as Draco resurfaced and finger combed his hair back out of his eyes. He watched as a drop of water rolled down his high cheek bone, then down his neck, sluicing along his clavicle, before dripping into the pool. He tread water and stared at Harry, waiting.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

A look of hurt flashed in his eyes before he covered it, so quickly that if Harry hadn't spent decades of his life watching Draco, he would have missed it.

"I mean," he swallowed, might as well at this point, "you're not just fucking with me?"

"How would this be fucking with you?" Draco asked, spreading his arms wide.

He pulled his shirt off over his head and stood to yank down his shorts before jumping in after Draco. When he popped his head back above the water, Draco was only a few feet away, watching him with a little smile at the corner of his mouth. "You should know," he said conversationally, "that I am not a terribly good swimmer."

Draco was at his side a heartbeat later, hands bracketing Harry's ribs as he buoyed him to the surface a bit, treading and keeping himself afloat with only his legs. "I'm a very good swimmer," he murmured, his voice low and a bit rough.

"Tell me why we're swimming together," he blurted.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, head tilting to the side like he was really trying to understand the puzzle that Harry was.

"Not to me," he replied.

Draco re-angled his body a bit and pushed Harry backward, swimming until Harry's back hit the side of the pool and then pressing their bodies together. "Luna had a drink," he said.

Harry, whose head was very much elsewhere, attempting to catalogue the hard planes of Draco's body pressed against his own, made a vague "Oh?" sound.

He nodded, "Had a bit of felix in it, apparently."

"And-" Harry started, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for Draco to continue.

"It led me to you," he murmured. "And honestly?"

He nodded, trying not to let his mind race to improbable conclusions.

"I've fancied you for ages."

"You have?" he blurted, looking between Draco's eyes, trying to discern any semblance of an untruth.

"I have," he murmured, bending forward so that his lips brushed over Harry's jaw. "The only question is whether you feel the same."

"How is that a question?" he asked, tipping his head back to allow Draco's mouth to brush tantalizingly over his skin. "Of course I do."

"Do you?" he asked, voice just a little afraid, "or is it the alcohol?"

"I'm not drunk," he said, cupping Draco's cheek and drawing him back far enough that they could look at each other. "I had one beer, two hours ago."

"So it wouldn't be taking advantage if I kissed you?"

Harry didn't think, didn't say another word, he just wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and pulled him in closer so their lips could touch.

The other man's body surged against his, kissing him deep and slow in a way that made Harry feel like he was floating through the universe, the only thing tethering him was the hard wall of the pool against his back.

Merlin only knew how long they might have gone on kissing if it weren't for the sound of merrymakers coming up from the fire pit. But as it was, Draco pulled back and said, "I really don't particularly want to see anyone else."

"Me either," he replied, glancing over his shoulder.

"Come back to mine?" he offered. "We don't have to-"

He leaned in and kissed him again, giddy with the possibility of more time together, of more kisses. "Yes," he murmured against Draco's lips. "Let's just figure out the rest once we get there."

"You're sure?"

Harry laughed, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life.

And it wasn't until the sun was peaking through the blinds in Draco's living room the next morning that either of them remembered they'd left their clothes lying on the deck by the pool.

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

Read more of my gentle July ficlets

#listen. I know these were supposed to be done in July but (insert shrug emoji here) #is this one out of order? also yes. #my summer got a little bit blown up #and the author is practicing being kind to herself so she's not going to apologize. life is a lot sometimes and i am small. #drarry #love #soft #Harry is besotted #i don't make the rules #fluff #harry is thirsty and not for water #pool #confident draco #yes.

[fruitcoops]

First Burn

Fic O'Ween Day 4: Bonfire! This is part of a firefighter/ EMT AU that I said I would write about a year ago (oops), and it fit this prompt too well to pass up. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW implied sexual content, mentioned injury (not to any main characters), intense flirting

“This feels a little heavy on the irony,” Remus mused.

Next to him, Sirius took a long drink of his beer with a wry half-smile. “What, having a bonfire party for a bunch of people who run into burning buildings on the reg? Just a bit.”

“I don’t run into burning buildings,” Remus corrected. Something hotter than the embers warming his legs flared in his stomach when Sirius finished his drink and crushed the can easily beneath his thick-soled boot. God, I wish that were me.

“Best to leave that one to the professional whackjobs, eh?”

“Exactly.”

Sirius grinned at him, impish and altogether too attractive for someone Remus was absolutely not supposed to be into. Straight teeth, a crooked nose, one picture-perfect dimple just by his red lips—it was like Sirius had been manufactured just to drive him out of his mind. It didn’t help that Remus could see the flex of his broad shoulders even under a thick jacket to chase off the cold. He wanted to grip those shoulders. He wanted to lick them. He wanted to watch Sirius come apart.

Fuck, he really shouldn’t have let Leo talk him into a third beer.

Remus scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and turned back to the fire, which hissed and popped in perfect ambience to the voices of his coworkers as they milled about. It was just Sirius and him by the fire, now; he caught a faint glimpse of Leo in the lanternlight, chatting up a lanky firefighter in a denim jacket. He was wearing what Remus had affectionately dubbed his ‘slut shirt’: a medium-sized tee with the EMT logo on it that looked more like an extra-small when stretched over Leo’s chest and arms. If he was looking to pull tonight, he definitely could.

And if Leo was doing it…

Remus snuck a glance at Sirius out of the corner of his eye. He was clearly relaxed, legs kicked out in front of him while he leaned back against the makeshift bench with hooded eyes. His cheeks and neck were pink from alcohol; his fucking massive hands toyed with one of the patches near the hem of his jacket. The firelight flickered off his cheekbones like it was made for it.

Don’t fuck your coworkers. An unspoken (and oft-broken) rule. Drama amongst hookups was the last thing they needed when saving lives. But it didn’t really count if it was Sirius, did it? After all, Remus wasn’t a firefighter. It would be a different story if he was thirsting for another EMT, and he took his job too seriously to risk that.

But here he was, thirsting hopelessly. He couldn’t even blame it on the beer. Sometimes life really did bite him in the ass.

One of half a dozen logs broke and sent up a cloud of sparks; they both jumped, Remus reaching instinctively to pull Sirius back from the edge of the bonfire. “Shit—”

“Easy, Lupin,” Sirius laughed. Remus felt something in his chest go ka-chunk and wondered briefly if he should consult Leo about that.

“I—your feet,” he managed lamely. “They were too close.”

Sirius held his gaze while he bent his long legs, still casual, still laid-back in a way Remus so rarely saw in their daily lives. “Better?” he asked, low and sweet.

Dry mouth. Caused by medications, radiation, frequent tobacco or alcohol use, or nerve damage. Remus swallowed. “Much.”

“You can let go if you want,” Sirius continued. That ridiculous grin curled at the corner of his mouth again. “I promise not to fall in.”

Remus looked between them and felt heat rise to his neck when he saw his hand twisted up in the sleeve of Sirius’ jacket. “Stop, drop, and roll if you do.”

“Thanks for the fire safety lesson, doctor.”

“Any time.” Was it just his imagination, or was Sirius sitting closer than he had been five minutes ago? Remus tilted his head toward the bonfire. “Figured you could use a refresher.”

“Not enough arsonists lately,” Sirius agreed. “And people are getting too good at remembering to turn their ovens off.”

Remus licked his lips and watched silver eyes track the movement. “There’s always room for ambulance drivers.”

“Can’t be too different than an engine.” It definitely wasn’t just Remus’ imagination anymore. One lean from either of them and their noses would be touching. In his periphery, he saw Leo wandering away from the picnic table with his redheaded catch in tow.

“Different enough.” Am I doing this? I’m doing this. Oh, god, I’m doing this. “Engines don’t usually have screaming people in them.”

There was the goddamn dimple again as Sirius held back a laugh. “Is that how you reel in all the boys, Lupin? Stories about screaming people in ambulances?”

“Only the ones I like.” It was a good thing Sirius was CPR-certified, because Remus could hear his heart pounding in his ears and it was not calming down.

“Sounds like you might have to show me how to drive, then.” Their shoulders brushed and Remus’ breath rushed out in the span of a second. Sirius ducked his head slightly. “If it’s that much different than an engine.”

He smelled good, like the smoke from the bonfire and whatever cologne always made Remus want to bash his face into the break room cupboards. You have reattached someone’s arm without throwing up. You can flirt with a hot boy. He hooked his finger in the leather band of Sirius’ bracelet and heard his breathing stutter. “Name your time.”

Dimple. Infuriating grin. Arch of one dark brow. “Tonight?”

Remus leaned close enough that his mouth brushed the lobe of Sirius’ ear. He felt him shiver. “You better not be on-call tomorrow morning, ‘cause you’re making me breakfast.”

“Deal,” Sirius breathed, and then he was gone, pulling Remus up with him in one quick motion before they were sprinting for his hatchback like the hounds of hell were at their heels. Remus was breathless with it, burning hotter than the fire they were leaving in the dust. Don’t fuck your coworkers*.

*Exceptions may occur.

#remus lupin #sirius black #leo knut #finn ohara #coops #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #bonfire #noot fest #fic o'ween 2022 #firefighter/ emt au

[12pt-times-new-roman]

C3E75

snow effects!!!

They arrive on a mountainside, where the opening into the rock is devoid of snow and ice. It leads into a tiny, Descent-like cave that drops into nothing -- and that's eventually fully blocked by a humanoid skull. (yeah. it's that small.)

Eventually, they come upon a Minecraft-style pool of lava with imps and a roiling bit in the middle -- sounds like lava mephits and a fire elemental! (someone's been playing BG3)

FCG casts tongues on Fearne. They sound similar to the blue frog pixie-things they encountered before, but fire-themed. They keep spawning from the roiling bit in the middle, and over time they fall to dust.

When Fearne says the name Rau'shan, their eyes light up, their grins widen -- "The creator... tales are told of those who have come before. It births us... others have come and angered the spark, and then, fire."

Oh, so this is the Sunken Temple all over again, except far more difficult because lava hurts.

Ashton implies that if no one else does anything, they're just gonna.... jump in the lava and get the thing. Great.

The fact that absolutely no one in this party tried anything to stop Ashton from dive-bombing into a lava pool, and are in fact encouraging them to do so, is honestly ridiculous. "It doesn't kill you instantly" lava does 18d10 damage per turn. if that roll is even slightly above average, Ashton is down in one round.

but they only take 35, reduced by temporary hit points and an elemental absorption ring. (rules-as-written, full submergence in lava is 18d10 damage -- 35 is way too low for even surface-level damage, so something else is happening here.)

Ashton finds something in the lava pool, pulls, can't get it free -- and stays another round. Another 40 (reduced to 31) fire damage.

Fearne casts fire shield (cold) on herself to give herself fire resistance and jumps in after Ashton. Matt is rolling one set of dice for each damage roll here, so there's something special about this specific magma pool (not about Ashton) that's reducing the amount of damage they take.

"Is anyone else doing anything this round?" meanwhile, Chetney: "I am CLIMBING up the WALLS"

In the second round, Ashton pulls it free -- the words of Evontravir come to their mind, and in that moment they know that they were meant to be here, Fearne was meant to be here, and Ashton darts upward, Fearne in tow, with Imogen's fly.

FCG update: "Scatter Vigor" allows them to take 3d8 necrotic damage and then give that much healing (plus twice their wisdom modifier) to a close friend.

Ashton's skin is red-hot, matching the lake, but it slowly fades as his body cools. The cracks that damaged their body has somewhat healed, they've been shored up -- the gold is still there, but it's less wide than it was. "It's slightly joyful that, after a lifetime of being hurt, someone gets hurt when they touch you."

Also, Ashton is fully naked. Their clothes are gone.

The shard itself is a bright orange-white crystal that branches like roots. Inside, Ashton sees shifting light, roiling flames, like a window into the tiniest, most dangerous ever-burning inferno. They tap it to their head, and sense that there is something within it that they're drawn to -- there's a churning, like an earthquake foreshock, like the anticipation before a fall.

Chetney uses grim psychometry on it. "It's such a small shard, but the power is nearly overwhelming. There is a powerful essence locked within this crystal, but it's such a small piece of the entity it once belonged to... chained, trapped, kept away -- vengeful, furious, and then freedom, the promise of escape. You and a partner to bring this world low once more -- and then, light. Light, that is a different fire than your own -- it is blue, then white, and it breaks you apart, you see a mountain reformed and destroyed, you see this light engulf you and the Emperor, and you're sundered into a million pieces. And this one piece just flies through the sky at an impossible speed, before it punches into this mountain."

Ashton takes it and pushes it into their chest. There is a twin essence within them, waiting to be awakened -- but the one they hold is still looking for its vessel.

"Who do we know who's fiery?" "Fearne!" FCG, Chetney, Laudna, and Imogen are all trying to get Fearne to take this thing, despite her having just explicitly said that she doesn't want it because it hurt her.

With an arcana check, Laudna knows that a powerful essence is locked within this particular artifact -- "there's another relic that they uncovered that was used to imbue certain essences into the wearer." And that means that it's completely within reason for Ashton, Fearne, or Orym to take it, because they're all arguably elementally infused.

With a flash, five figures apperate on the other side of the chamber -- two members of the Ruby Vanguard, two reilorans, and LUDINUS DA'LETH. "Well, now -- you certainly have been busy, haven't you? It seems that fear is a potent motivator."

Imogen immediately using telekinesis to throw lava at Ludinus has the exact same energy as Caleb throwing a wall of fire at Trent in Vergessen

hold up, Ashton still doesn't have pants on--

Ludinus has a new white gem in the center of his forehead -- it's unclear whether it's actually set into his skin or on a circlet of some kind. My first guess is that this is an Ioun stone -- white is regeneration, but that doesn't really help him in a combat encounter. It could also be sustenance, which means he doesn't need to eat or drink

The reilorans have less than 60 hp and an AC less than 19.

The Ruby Vanguard goons have less than 50 hp.

For Ludinus' turn, he sees his staff in FCG's hand -- "oh, you've been prying, haven't you?" With his own telekinesis, he lifts Fearne above the lava and just holds her there. "If you've been digging through history, good! The more you see, the more you learn, and the more you learn, the more you know how right we are."

The reiloran juggernaut uses telekinetic shove, pushing Orym not into the lava but into melee with it. (read: either Matt is being merciful, or Ludinus wants them alive.)

Chetney takes the shard from Ashton, puts it into the bag of holding, then turns invisible.

a wall of stone around Ludinus is a super fun choice -- either he doesn't have fly and has to waste his action on trying to break out, or he has fly and has to waste his action on that!

oh, the inclusion of the lava is such good encounter design. on a flat field, this fight would be pretty skewed in Ludinus' favor, but with both parties being able to utilize the lava and with the Hells having more party members that can use it, it really levels the playing field.

Ludinus has the metamagic adept feat, which gives him some sorcery points and metamagic, of which quicken spell is one. He brings Fearne closer -- "how rude of your friends, not to consider talking. Let's find a better place to converse."

Ludinus' armor class is 19 and he has advantage on checks to maintain concentration.

With an 18, Fearne convinces Ludinus to at least talk to them for a minute. He indicates that he has curiosity about their locations and, looking specifically at Ashton, patrons.

Predictably, Ludinus' strength score is abysmal, and Laudna gets him prone with her hound.

Ashton rage build update: They have to burn a chaos burst to do their wormhole strike. The wormhole strike counts as melee attack, not a ranged one, for the purposes of having advantage/disadvantage on a prone opponent.

Ludinus' concentration on Fearne breaks, and she falls to the ground. "Ah, well -- at least a lesson can be learned here." He begins to cast, something with a 30-foot radius, and Laudna counterspells his ninth level spell -- Marisha needs at least a 14 AND SHE ROLLS A FUCKING 14--

They all feel this alien, arcane hand reach into their minds, memories, their fears -- and suddenly it's gone, Ludinus reels away and tries to counter-counterspell and FAILS. "Well. At the very least, we have more information." And he walks, falls into the lava; his flesh melts into a pile of snow that releases into steam -- this form was a simulacrum.

However, Ludinus' robe still remains, and they grab it. The fact that it didn't descinerate immediately means that it's magic.

Using Ludinus' staff, the Bells Hells attempt to return to Whitestone to reconvene with Imahara, Dancer, and Percy.

#critical role #note watches c3 #critical role spoilers #critical role campaign 3 #critical role c3 #critical role liveblog #long post

[silverstonesainz-archive]

a. [love] with mick pretty please xx

mick, my beloved. here you go <3

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

prompt: forehead touches - [ LOVE ]:     overcome with their love for the receiver, the sender touches their foreheads together.

it's a little ridiculous, no? to realize that you love him while he was sitting on a horse. there was something about the way he looked, the smile on his face as he laughs at something his sister said. you lean back against the fencing, admiring the way the sun kisses his skin, the way his bright blue eyes glimmer with happiness.

you are absolutely, undeniably smitten for mick schumacher.

"hey, what are you looking at?" mick asks with a grin on his face, guiding his horse over to you.

"just admiring babe." you wink his way and he chuckles.

mick extends his hand towards you, "c'mon, let's go for a little ride."

you smile, taking him up on his offer and taking his hand as you climb onto the horse, arms wrapping around his torso and chin resting on his shoulder. the horse trots off, taking you two further from the rest of mick's family and right at the edge of the property. the silence is comfortable, just the sound of leaves crunching beneath the horse's hooves. you hum softly, pressing a kiss on his shoulder.

"you having a fun time?" mick asks, one of his hands releasing the reigns to hold yours around his torso.

you nod, "yes. happy to be here with you, thank you for bringing me."

"of course love." he tugs on the reigns slightly, the horse slowing to a halt.

mick jumps off first, before helping you down. you watch as he ties the horse to the post, giving it gentle pets before walking back over to you. he slings his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in close enough to press a kiss on your temple. your eyes fall shut as you inhale deeply, his scent comforting and homey. you don't notice the way mick looks down at you, the smile on his lips.

"what are you thinking about?"

your eyes slip open, head turning to look up at him. you stare into his bright blue eyes, feeling your heart slipping further and further. you heart skips a beat under his soft gaze, and the words tumbling out of your mouth roll effortlessly off your tongue.

"about how much i love you."

it takes a second to register that you said that out loud. but mick's eyes growing wide, the way he visibly stops breathing, brings you back to reality. panic rises within you and you pull away from his embrace, shaking your head.

"oh my god. oh my god." you bite your lip, trying to ease the nerves. "i'm sorry?"

"why are you sorry?"

"i...i..."

in your panic you don't register the grin on his face, the look of amusement he has as he stares at you. he chuckles, shaking his head as he reaches out for you. his hand grabs ahold of yours, pulling you to him.

"don't be sorry angel, because i love you too."

your heart is rattling under your ribs, beating undeniably strong at mick's words. suddenly, all the anxiety leaves your body and you're left feeling at ease. your cheeks hurt over how wide you are smiling.

"you do?"

"of course i do. how could i not?"

you couldn't have smiled any wider than you already were, moving up to the tip of your toes to kiss him fiercely. mick laughs against your mouth, hands cupping your cheek to hold you still as he kisses you back. you are the first to pull away, mick chasing your lips with his own as you do. you let him, his soft lips pressing against yours briefly before he pulls away. mick drops his hands to yours, fingers lacing together as you rest your forehead on his.

"i love you." your heart is soaring, moving a million miles a minute.

mick smiles widely, pecking your lips once more. "i love you too."

fluff party!

#lightsoutsainz fluff party #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fluff #ms47 drabble

[willowfolksong]

i think labyrinth suits baji, especially if the reader and baji are enemies

“uh oh, i'm falling in love” part is when theyre both catching feelings for each other but theyre both denying it to themselves because that's just ridiculous as they thought

“oh no, i'm falling in love” the part they realize that they really are in love with one another, but theyre hiding and still denying it but you can sense the pining

“oh, i'm falling in love” is the part where they just give in to their feelings😭😭

SO SORRY I RANTED TOO MUCH 😭😭 i jst had this thought and needed to share it after seeing the lavender haze fic

falling in love, again

Keisuke Baji x Reader

a/n: thank you for your kind words, anon. I wish you could see this. your ask inspired this fic, so thank you so much 🫶🏻. hope you can enjoy it ✨

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

You didn't even liked him to begin with.

He was scary, loud, and incredibly disrespectful for no apparent reason.

He drops the book on the table and you recoil, anger simmering in your downcast eyes.

'This will only be for a month. Only a month and nothing else', you think to yourself, taking a deep breath and wondering why you said no when you were offered the possibility to move to a more advanced classroom, thanks to your notes.

You wouldn't have to deal with Keisuke Baji then.

"This book is crap and ain't no way I'm gonna read it"

"You have to" you say through gritted teeth "Or you'll fail this subject"

You're not even looking at him, but you know he's shrugging without a care in the world "As if I care"

"Aren't you one year behind already?" you ask him in a mocking tone. You really don't know where you got the courage from, because Keisuke Baji is definitely a guy no one wants to mess with "Do you want to be repeating again?"

He places both hands on the table and leans down, hovering over you like a panther about to jump on its prey.

"You little shit"

"Fine by me, you know?" you finish, and your voice is only a whisper now but you still get up, pick your bag and start walking towards the classroom's door. Never mind your shaking hands "It's not my problem anyway"

He calls your name when you're about to leave, and you only stop because you're genuinely surprised that he knows it.

"Fine, just ..." he sighs, shoulders sagging. Then he points to the book with an angry scoff "Let's just get this thing over"

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

It was going to be just one month, one month to get your teacher out of your back. He was supposed to be your good deal of the year. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" he yells, and you quickly silence him by placing a hand over his mouth. His smile tickles your fingers.

"Be quiet!"

"You mean I could've just read the manga version, instead of the whole ass book?"

"No, reading the book is important for the test" you tell him, rolling your eyes. But then he's making a grabbing motion with his hands that actually makes him look like a toddler reaching for his parents, and you have to laugh and hand the manga to him "But I thought you would appreciate seeing the story like this as well"

"Oh, I appreciate it alright" he yells, grimacing when you scold him again, and actually making a quick bowing motion when he turns around to find the librarian glaring daggers at him from the front desk "Yeah, yeah, sorry. I'll keep my mouth shut"

"Good" you nod, grabing your books "I'll leave you to it then"

It's only two days before the test, and you want to do some studying alone in your bedroom, wich translates into frantically pacing back and forth and reading stuff out loud, but he really doesn't need to know that)

He calls your name when you're about to go out the door, and this time, it is you who apologizes to the librarian, who looks absolutely done with the two of you.

"Thanks for this" he smiles, and it's a sharp smile with a hint of fangs that has you blushing and praying he's too far away to notice how quickly the colour spreads from your cheeks to your neck "You ended up being way cooler than what I thought"

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

You were just meant to be the surprisingly cool nerd girl that helps him get a good grade, pass the subject, and then just becomes someone he casually smiles when he bumps you on the hallways.

"Why are you smiling?" he asks, and you smile grows even bigger.

"How do you know I'm smiling? Your eyes are closed"

He shrugs, and you snuggle even closer under the blankets "I just know it"

"How?"

"I just do. I have a super power"

"You're a dork, that's what you are"

At that he smiles as well, and he even opens one eye to look down at you, with your head on his chest.

"Yeah well, but I'm your dork"

"I guess that is true"

"You chose me, so no backtracking now"

"Wouldn't dream of it" you laugh.

"Yeah, well. Because you wouldn't be getting rid of me that easily anyway"

"Really?"

"Yeah, you're totally stuck with me"

"Oh, I didn't knew you loved me that much" you say in a singsong voice, attempting to make a joke that clearly falls flat when Baji goes silent, and you have to actually look back up to see if he suddenly didn't just fell asleep.

"I mean" he starts, licking his lower lip in that nervous way that reminds you to your first kiss "I do love you"

One second passes.

Then two.

Then you're sitting down slowly and looking at him in bewilderment.

"I was just joking" you tell him, watching him immediately go from relaxed to surprised, then to defensive.

"Well, I'm not. You have a problem with that or what?"

Your mouth falls even more open, if possible.

"Ahm..."

"I love you and you're just gonna have to deal with that" he finishes, and then gets up in a flurry of blankets, and you just stay still and watch him quietly apologize to your cat for scaring her half to death on his way to angrily put his shirt back on and make a beeline straight for your window. The one he climbs almost every night when you're absolutely sure that your parents are sleeping already.

You only really realize he just confessed his love to you and immediately took off when you hear him start his motorcycle, and then you're running to the window he left carelessly open to shout his name, your parents be damned.

"I love you too!" you yell "So much!"

He flashes you that signature smile that you first saw that faithful afternoon at the library, and then disappears into the night.

You get scolded and grounded the next morning, but you still think it was totally worth it to see his blush right before he put his helmet on.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

Because now... now you're going to have to spend your whole life getting over him.

You don't go to the funeral. Chifuyu tells you everyone was there. That his mother cried a lot. That a couple of them asked about you. You're only half listening.

Only when he places a hand on your shoulder you look up, to his stormy eyes that must look exactly like yours.

'Breathe in, breathe through. Breathe deep, breathe out'

The box with some of his stuff that his mother sent you stays under your bed until you move out of your parents apartment. You take it with you, because your chest still hurts even then, eight years later.

All because you fell in love.

In the great labyrinth of things that life is, you wonder if it was always meant to be like that.

...

It's the beginning of the year and you say yes when your teacher asks you about changing classrooms. You're going to miss studying with your friends, but you can still see them at lunch.

It's for the better. This is what's supposed to happen.

You graduate with flying colors. You go to college. The love you feel for the kitty you found starving on a side of the road and that has now become the queen of your bedroom and hogger of all your pillows, compels you to study veterinary science.

Life is good. Everything's like it's supposed to be.

Until one of your teachers asks you a tiny favour.

"You have to" you say, and the guy has the nerve to look all smug. As if he wasn't failing the class "It's the only way you're going to pass"

"Look, you don't have to be a little shit about it" he tells you, and you suddenly want to pick up the book he carelessly dropped on the table and smack him on the head with it "I know what I have to do. I don't need any bossy girl that thinks she's way cooler than she is telling me what to do"

"Okay fine! Whatever! Just do whatever the hell you want!" you yell, because you're 22, running low on caffeine and with a roommate that is going through the worst breakup ever, so you've been staying up all night doing your part in consoling her.

You don't have enough energy for this.

You're almost at the door when you hear him call your name, and a wave of emotions that surges seemingly out of nowhere threatens to topple you over, so you hold onto the door frame before slowly turning to look back at him.

He has apparently opened the book, and it's looking at whatever page he landed in with a furrowed brow.

"Fine" he relents, taking a quick look at you before closing the book back with a little more force than necessary, and plopping down on his chair "Let's just get this over with"

And you have a feeling, right in that moment, that this is exactly how things are supposed to happen.

This work belongs to my Midnights: Sleepless stories 🕰️ collection, a series of reader insert fics based on the album Midnight, by Taylor Swift, with characters from Haikyuu, Tokyo Revengers and Blue Lock. ✨

You can still send an ask if there's any character you would like to see in any particular song ✨

Last: lavender haze

#keisuke baji x y/n #keisuke baji #keisuke baji x reader #baji x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev angst #baji fluff #baji angst #fluff #angst #tokyo revengers fic #based on a taylor swift song

[kay-elle-cee]

A restless waves rise and fall microfic (series). 🏴‍☠️ Pirate Jily AU. 660 Words. (A follow up to this last little micro) @jilymicrofics June Prompt 24: Sea || 660 Words

“Captain’s looking for you.”

Lily jumps as Sirius Black approaches, his voice jolting her out of her own thoughts as she looks out at the sun glinting off the sea, mind oscillating between the upcoming landing party assignments and if they should be worrying about the darkening clouds ahead.

“Oh?”

“Said it’s urgent.” The smile The Minnie’s newest crew member gives her, coupled with the raise of his eyebrows, has Lily rolling her eyes.

“Don’t get cheeky with me,” she warns, pushing off the railing. “I’m sure it’s about logistics for port tomorrow. Whatever our…personal status is, we do actually talk about the ship, you know.”

The crew had been accepting of the still-young relationship between James, their Captain, and herself, the First Mate, though it wasn’t without the occasional teasing or suggestive comment. Lily worked hard to keep an outwardly-professional relationship with their captain when it came to the actual day-to-day operations on the ship.

Sirius Black, however, is a constant thorn in her side. Having immediately picked up on the unspoken-upon connection she and James shared early on, he always—inexplicably—feels the need to poke and pry at their relationship, gloating about his instincts.

As she starts to make her way across the deck, she hears his footsteps follow and turns to find Black trailing her.

“What?”

“Seem to be spending an awful lot of time in the captain’s quarters lately,” Sirius remarks, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Something about that spark causes Lily’s blood to simmer. “I beg your pardon?” She bites through gritted teeth, her heart a deafening war drum in her ears.

Sirius quickly looks around, making sure no one is around to overhead, before dropping his voice. “Listen, Evans, we all know where you sneak off to at night. No one cares.”

She feels her cheeks heat up, embarrassment washing over her. “I’m sorry?”

“We know you’re sneaking off to Captain’s once we all fall asleep.”

“That’s ridiculous! How—“

“Haven’t you noticed that it takes quite a bit less time for us to all ‘fall asleep’?”

She balks, the truth settling over her. “You all know?” she asks, unable to hide the mortification in her voice. Quickly crossing to hide herself in the shadow of a staircase, she brings a hand to her face in embarrassment. “How long?”

“We caught on about a week in. Remus wasn’t fully asleep one night you thought he was. That, combined with the fact you’re always somehow first to rise and never in your hammock when anyone stirs in the middle of the night…”

She groans, tilting her head back against the wood of the ship. “Look, I refuse to talk about this anymore, but I want to assure you all there no kind of-of…special treatment or privileges or anything—“

“Evans, we don’t care where you sleep, we know you’re not slacking on your duties or anything of the sort. I just wanted to let you know that we know and if you’re wanting to make it a more permanent arrangement so you don’t have to sneak around then by all means do and also can Peter have your hammock?”

Blinking, Lily processes all of this and lets sweet, blessed silence fall between them before speaking. “I’m sorry, was this all just to get Pettigrew a new hammock?”

“You know as well as I do that he hates sleeping next to Fenwick—the bloke talks in his sleep.” Sirius shrugs. “But no, that’s just an afterthought.”

There’s a beat of silence as Lily stares at him. “Does the captain actually need to see me at all, or was this just an excuse to needle me about this issue?”

An innocent look settles on Sirius’ face that answers Lily’s question regardless of his words. “He always needs to see you, Evans.”

“You absolute berk,” she mutters, shaking her head as she walks away, feet unthinkingly leading her to the captain’s quarters, knowing she always needs to see James, too.

Read on Ao3

#restless waves rise and fall #ripples in the water #jily #pirate au #jple #lily evans #james potter #jilymicrofics #Sirius black

[themidnightghoul]

The Melody and the Silence

Kore is the daughter of a high-ranking Ministry official. Rain is the bassist for Ghost and also a bodyguard for hire in the off-season. When their two worlds collide, will Kore be able to resist temptation or will she take a bite and fall into a world of music, magic, and monsters?

Chapter: 1/? Rating: Explicit (eventually) Word Count: 2260

Read on AO3 or below!

“Dad, this is absolutely ridiculous. I’m a grown ass adult and you’re getting a bodyguard for me?!” Kore was livid and all she could do was fume at her father as he sat behind his desk, his glasses perched at the end of his nose and his eyes not leaving his computer screen for a moment.

“Kore, watch your language. You know exactly why this is happening. Being a part of the Ministry, in the position that I hold, comes with certain…risks. I need to make sure you’re protected at all times.” His tone was flat and cold, never even bothering to make eye contact with his daughter.

Kore rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I don’t give a shi-”

“Kore.” Now he looked up but only for a second, his eyes conveyed annoyance at her defiant attitude.

“Well I don’t, dad! I want nothing to do with this Ministry bullshit. That’s your life, not mine.”

Her father sighed and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes with his index finger and thumb. “I'm sorry you feel that way but this is happening whether you want it to or not. I just want to know you're safe. Surely you can understand that.”

She knew she was pushing it but she was so angry with him treating her like this, acting as if he actually cared about her. “I’m not a child anymore, dad. Do you really think I need a glorified babysitter?”

“Yes, Kore, I do. Just because you’re not a child any longer doesn't mean you’re not my child. If anything were to happen to you because of what I do, who I work for, what I’ve seen? I can’t risk someone getting to you. I won’t risk someone getting to you.” His voice was off, almost like he was trying to convince himself that he truly meant what he was saying.

She squinted her eyes, her head cocked to the side at his choice of words and reading between the lines. Her father never said things like that about her; they just didn’t have that kind of relationship. But she knew what he was actually saying and it only fueled her anger. “You're not concerned about me at all, are you? This is about you,” she spat. “Of course it is. Just trying to cover your ass in case I spill any dirt on the Ministry I might have.” She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”

“That’s enough.” He stood quickly, hands hitting his wooden desk hard enough to make Kore jump the slightest bit. “This is happening, end of discussion.” Looking away towards the doors to his office, he raised his voice as he spoke in that direction. “You can come in now.”

The doors opened behind Kore and she spun around, trying to see who her father was talking to. In walked a figure clad in an all black suit with a familiar ornamental design on one of the lapels of the jacket. She couldn't see their face as it was covered with a helmet that she most definitely recognized and it took a moment to register in her brain who, or rather what, this was. They stopped a respectable distance away from her but she still felt a shiver run down her spine.

“You're absolutely shitting me.” She turned back around to look at her father who was standing with his arms crossed, a serious look on his face. “Dad, please tell me this is a joke.”

“Kore,” he walked around his desk and stood between the figure and his daughter. “This is your assigned bodyguard.” He gestured over to the figure almost like he was showing them off, waving them forward.

Almost on instinct, Kore stepped back as the figure got closer to her. “That's close enough, thank you.” She held a hand out as if she could actually stop them that easily, and tried to appear stoic, unbothered by what was in front of her, but she knew they could smell her hesitation, her fear. Being a child of a high ranking Ministry official, she was no stranger to the more well-known goings on. Kore knew about the Ghost Project, had even eaten dinner with Papa Emeritus IV several times, and she definitely knew about the Ghouls. Not specifics, but enough to know she didn’t want to be close enough for them to touch her.

Her father sighed, annoyance coating the sound he made, as he reached forward to yank Kore’s arm and pull her back. “Manners, Kore. Introduce yourself because you’re about to be spending any and all time you have with him.”

Kore whimpered softly at his grip on her arm, her shoulder popping slightly as he pulled her back where he wanted her. She rubbed the spot he had grabbed, knowing that it would bruise with how hard he had gripped the skin, and took a deep breath before reaching her hand out to the figure. “Kore.”

The figure reached out with their hand, a normal looking hand she noted, and shook hers. The contact caused them both to pull away slightly but not fully release their grip. “Rain. Pleasure to meet you, Kore.” His voice was like the calmest ocean waves mixed with a gentle sea breeze and it set her immediately on edge and at some semblance of peace at the same time, somehow. They shook hands and stood for a moment, then slowly pulled them away as if they didn’t want to let go.

Kore cleared her throat, absentmindedly rubbing her hand and flexing it. “Can I go now, dad?” She was nervous and initially, she would have chalked it up to a healthy fear of the creature in front of her, but now she wasn’t so sure. It was silly to feel so flustered but even she couldn't deny that something about the creatures, the Ghouls, was alluring.

Her father turned to smile at her, the action not reaching his eyes, clearly oblivious to anything that had just occurred between the two. “Rain will be accompanying you wherever you go, Kore. Should you need anything, you ask him. He is here to help, to keep you safe, so please do remember yourself and behave.” The last word was spoken through clenched teeth and it was laced with a small but silent threat lingering on the end of it: or else. “Ghoul,” he turned to Rain, a stern look crossing his face. “She's not to be on her own, do we have an understanding?”

The Ghoul, Rain, nodded. “Of course, sir. That’s why I’m here. Your daughter is in good hands, I assure you.” He was standing almost as still as a statue as he spoke, his mouth moving beneath the fabric that covered most of his face under his helmet. Kore found herself interested in what he looked like underneath that helmet and had to shake her head to rid herself of those thoughts.

“Wonderful!” The sound of his hands clapping together startled Kore and she noticed Rain’s head turning slightly towards her at the movement. “You can go now, Kore.” His voice was dismissive, any poor attempts at being a caring father were long gone, as he returned to his chair and resumed his work at the computer.

Kore turned on her heel and walked off, Rain following behind her at a respectable distance. She rubbed her arm again, the soreness setting in quickly this time, and she felt a stray tear fall from her eye and roll down her cheek. “Asshole,” she whispered, walking through the open doors of her father's office and not bothering to close them behind her, a subtle last act of defiance. It took her a moment to collect herself as she walked, and she finally remembered Rain behind her. When she turned to look, he stopped and just stood there, silent but very much present.

As hesitant as she was about having a bodyguard, much less a Ghoul bodyguard, Kore knew there was nothing she could really do about it at this point. Once her father made a decision about something, there was no changing his mind, and she knew this situation would be no different. Rain was going to be around whether she liked it or not, so she figured she should at least attempt to be civil, despite his presence currently scaring the shit out of her.

“Sorry about…all of that,” she gestured vaguely around, wincing at the sharp pain in her shoulder. “Probably the worst first impression you could have gotten, huh?” Rain didn't say anything, simply stood there and slightly cocked his head to the side. He kept his hands behind his back and his ramrod straight posture made Kore realize she was slumped over slightly. “Right…well this is gonna be fun,” she whispered to herself, turning away from him and starting to walk away. So much for being civil.

“You’re hurt.” He spoke softly, the two simple words stopping her in her tracks.

She rubbed her arm a bit more, her hand running over her shoulder and wincing slightly. “Fuck,” she whispered. It was at the very least out of its socket but it was nothing she hadn't fixed herself before, many times. “I’m fine, it’s nothing,” her voice was slightly strained, the pain starting to catch up with her now that she had somewhat calmed down. She turned back around and gave him a weak thumbs up with her hurt arm, wincing again when she raised it too high and feeling lightning shoot through her body.

Rain closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, startling her slightly. He reached his hand out, hovering just above her shoulder, and tilted his head slightly. “May I?” His fingers gently grazed over the fabric of her shirt and she briefly wondered what it would feel like to have his skin on hers.

Kore just stared into the bug eyes of his helmet and nodded. She hated popping her shoulder back into place and he seemed to have an idea of what to do, bracing his hand on the far end of her collarbone gently and holding her arm out just enough to get leverage.

“This may hurt a bit.” His voice was soothing as he pressed into her shoulder, a sickening popping sound echoing in her ears. As soon as it was back in place, he was putting pressure on it.

She winced, a small cry of pain escaping her lips that she couldn't manage to hold back. But her shoulder was fixed, the crying would come later in her room. “Thank you,” she smiled a broken smile and tried her best to keep it together in front of Rain. She wasn’t going to break in front of him and inadvertently give her father the satisfaction of knowing she couldn’t handle herself.

Rain simply nodded, his hands dropping from her shoulder and stepping away. Kore had a feeling that she really wasn’t going anywhere without Rain right behind her and all she wanted was to be alone right now. “I, uh, I’m gonna go to my room.” She tilted her head towards the direction of her room and turned away, her hand rubbing her sore shoulder joint as she walked.

Rain’s footsteps were light but with the rest of the large house being so quiet, she could easily hear him walking behind her. Sighing softly, she ascended the large staircase, bracing herself on the banister as she walked. She tried to figure out how to ask him not to follow her into her room but had no idea how to go about it. Having a bodyguard was going to take some getting used to and figuring out her boundaries would take time, as would learning how to communicate with him. Neither of them spoke as they walked and the silence was starting to grate on Kore’s ears but what was she supposed to say? “Sorry you had to see my asshole father yank my arm out of socket but thanks for helping me fix it by the way I don’t need a bodyguard?” 

When she reached her room, she slammed the door open and stepped through the doorway, making her way to her bed and sitting down with her head in her hands. Rain had stopped just outside the door, seemingly knowing to respect her personal space without her even having to mention it. After a moment Kore looked up and saw him standing off to the side facing away from her, his perfect posture annoying her and making her sit up straight. She stood up and walked to the door, beginning to close it without a word but stopping when she notices Rain’s head turn slightly.

“I…I’m gonna…sleep.” What the fuck is wrong with me? Kore chalks it up to a combination of the fight with her father and the fact that she now has a bodyguard. Not just any bodyguard, but a Ghoul bodyguard. There’s a lot to unpack there but her brain just can’t anymore tonight. She starts closing the door again when she hears him speak.

“Goodnight, Kore.” It’s so soft, so fucking kind, and she hates the way her hands clench together, the way she feels guilty for shutting him out.

“Night, Rain.” The door is closed and she turns, leaning against it and sighing, the sound long and drawn out. “Fuck,” she whispers.

On the other side of the door, Rain smirks under his balaclava.

#midnight writes #the melody and the silence #rain ghoul #rain ghoul x original character #ghost band fic #ghost fanfic #the band ghost fic #bodyguard rain

[lokigayforhela]

How about Loki and Thor trying to get Hela and reader's daughter to say the first words, they've been trying for hours, until Loki or Thor says a curse word and the reader's daughter repeats it? that would be funny

A/N: Been a bit since a good family fic, huh? Enjoy the shenanigans!

WC: 1094

Rating: G

TW: None

“Come on, little one. Can you say Uncle Thor? Hm? Can you say Uncle Thor?”

You rolled your eyes as you watched your brother-in-law coo over your daughter, Sigrid, and looked over at Loki just as they seemed to be doing the same gesture.

“Brother, you’ve been at it for two hours now. If our niece wanted to say Uncle Thor by now, she would have.”

Thor scowled up at his sibling as he continued to hold her little hands in his own, keeping her standing on her wobbly little legs as she grinned up at him with a gummy little smile.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been sitting right here trying to get her to talk, too.” He accentuated his sentence by sticking his tongue out in the most childish gesture you’d seen from him (that day, anyway), and Loki made a face in response, opening their mouth to bicker when Hela cut them off.

“Never mind the fact that, even if she wanted to say it, it’s highly unrealistic for her to say a phrase like that at ten months. She hasn’t even said ‘mama’ yet, and that will be her first word, thank you very much.”

You hummed out a soft laugh as you settled more comfortably into her side, letting your head fall to rest against her shoulder as you watched Thor refocus his attention on your daughter, smiling fondly as he made ridiculous faces at her to get her to giggle.

“As it is, she’s taken her sweet time with all her other milestones. She didn’t even start crawling until about a month ago.”

“Yes, well that’s because she’s the most spoiled baby in the entire universe, she hasn’t needed to move on her own. You two carry her everywhere.” Loki teased with a smile, and you scowled playfully at them.

“And we’ll continue to do so, because she’s the best baby in the whole entire world. Aren’t you? Aren’t you?” you cooed at her, beaming when she turned at the sound of your voice and gave a gurgly little grunt as if to agree with you.

“Is she walking at all yet?” Thor asked conversationally, watching as she bounced on her legs as though trying to jump but unable to get herself off the ground.

“Mm, I don’t think she’s supposed to be yet, necessarily. All the books say she should be pulling herself to stand up, as well as crawling.” Hela had read just about every book there was, you thought, when you’d found out you were pregnant, and you swore she had committed all the usual baby milestones to memory.

“We aren’t worried about it,” you added on, making a silly face at Sigrid as she kept looking at you.

“She does try sometimes, though. If you hold her at arm’s length and keep hold of her hands. You can try, if you’re careful.” Hela reached for her glass of wine, and your glass of sparkling apple juice, and handed it to you before settling back against the couch, watching with unabashed amusement as Thor got Sigrid stood up on her feet and held her little hands.

“Come on, little one. Come to Uncle Thor!”

Everyone in the entire room seemed to hold their breath as they waited to see if Sigrid would try, and sure enough, after a few moments of hesitation, she took a wobbling step toward Thor, who absolutely grinned as he let her keep holding onto his fingers so she had something to keep herself upright.

“That’s it, little star, you’re doing it,” Loki’s voice, though encouraging, was the softest you’d ever heard them speak before, and it warmed your heart to see how gentle they were with your daughter. She was the first baby in the family, after all, and all four of you had spoiled her since the day she was born. You didn’t think there existed a more loved baby than her.

You continued to smile softly as you watched her take another wobbly step, and then another. But then her little knees seemed to give out with the effort and, despite Thor’s light grip on her hands, she fell back onto her rear.

Thor, worried that she might have hurt herself, immediately looked alarmed. “Shit.”

“Shit!”

You looked over at her so fast that you thought you might get whiplash, and realized that everyone else had done the same, at the exact same time, and for a long moment you looked at your daughter, and then at Hela, who was looking back at you with the same expression of pure shock that you knew must be on your own face.

“Shit!”

Sigrid repeating the word broke you out of your stupor and you looked back at her, finding her absolutely grinning as she looked between you and Thor, clearly expecting to be praised.

The silence was broken by Loki, who hit Thor with a book just hard enough that you weren’t entirely sure if he’d meant to actually hurt him or not. “Now you’ve done it, brother.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Thor immediately looked up at you, with the most apologetic expression you’d ever seen in your life. And then he looked at Hela, and seemed to lose all color in his face.

That was when you decided to look at Hela. She looked remarkably calm, but you all knew her well enough to know that calm wasn’t exactly a good sign on Hela.

“Did you just have my daughter’s first word be a curse word?” Her voice was just as even as her expression, and you found yourself instinctually placing a hand on her arm to ground her, just in case.

“Hela. Sister, I swear it was an accident! Really! I didn’t mean to!”

“You’re in so much trouble.”

You only had a second to see Hela’s expression change from calm to playful for the briefest moment before she lunged at Thor with the most ridiculous war-cry you’d ever heard, and you relaxed, knowing that she was only playing with him.

It took Thor much longer to realize this, and he cowered as soon as he saw her coming toward him, pulling his hands up to protect himself. “Hela! Hela, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

And then Hela tackled him and, rather than actually fight him, instead wrestled him to the ground, laughing all the while, and all you could do was laugh as you watched your entire family lose it, Sigrid repeating her first word in the background, smiling all the while.

#Hela x reader #Hela Odinsdottir x reader #Hela #Hela Odinsdottir #Marvel #fluff #family fluff #shenanigans #feat. Thor #feat. Loki #mama!Hela #mama!reader #anonymous #ask #answered #thank you for the ask!

[milflewis]

sebchal + gold

lol i am sorry it took so long. wasn’t able to write for ages so only going through these prompts now. anyway here’s 2k of medieval sebchal dancing around each other for you !! hope you like it bestie

“May I ask what exactly are you doing, Your Highness?”

Fuck.

Charles knocks his head against the stone arch as he startles, flailing around, cheeks hot. He swears out loud when he sees Pierre behind him and not Lord Mattia.

“You’ve gotten way too good at his voice,” Charles says.

Pierre is laughing as he steps up beside him, dark blue tunic broad across his shoulders. There’s a faint pink scratch along his jaw. Pierre refuses to let anyone else but himself shave his beard. The dirt from the war, Charles has found, has clung to people differently.

He looks good though, eyes bright, face unshadowed and clean, hair falling into his forehead. His ring burns bronze in the sun as he rubs his fingers against his mouth, peering over the low balcony wall.

“Ah,” he says, a little smug. “I see.”

Charles elbows him in the ribs as Pierre laughs again. “I was admiring your husband,” Charles says, turning back to the training ground below them.

Pierre hums as they watch Yuki grin down at Alex who’s lying flat at his feet, legs sprawled, sword fallen off to the side. Yuki laughs, jumping a little when Alex tries to kick his feet out from under him, and Charles watches Pierre’s face soften from the corner of his eye.

“Understandable,” Pierre says quietly. “He’s very admirable.”

He smiles and there’s something sharp in his eyes that reminds Charles of when they were younger and the kingdom was smaller and Pierre used to shove Charles into Alex during dances because he knew Charles had a crush on the older boy and thought he was a lot funnier than he actually was.

“Speaking of admirable,” Pierre nods to the training ring just below them, right where Charles was definitely not looking earlier.

Ser Lewis Hamilton is laughing as he pulls off his helmet, curls damp with sweat and wild around his face, and throws it to one side. He spins his axe in small tight circles, metal glinting liquid and bright in the low morning sun. Charles recognises it to be Ser Valtteri’s, though the other knight is nowhere to be seen. Lewis’s own famous broadsword is leaning up against the table where the rest of their armour is strewn around.

Lewis is now down to just his right vambrace.

“What are they doing?” Pierre asks, eyes tracing the width of Lewis’s shoulders. Charles rolls his eyes, typical.

“A training game, I think. If one of them hits a body part, the other one has to lose the armour they’re wearing there and then if they get hit there again, they can no longer use the limb.”

Pierre chews the inside of his cheek for a moment, trying not to smile. It only makes his dimples press in deeper.

“That’s not what they normally wear,” he says and Charles grins.

He watches as Lord Sebastian Vettel points his sword at Lewis’s chest, giving him a half salute with it and a wink. He had taken off his tunic when he removed his breastplate earlier. His undershirt is dark with sweat and clings to the curve of his arms.

“No, it’s not.”

Their usual armour of dark grey steel and brown leather is nowhere to be seen. Instead, they’ve chosen to wear their golden ceremonial armour; winged helmets, heavy vambraces and metal boots. No one can spend more than five minutes in this castle when there are celebrations on and not hear Sebastian petitioning to King Michael on why exactly he shouldn’t have to wear the absolute ridiculous costume that Lord Wolff insists on them wearing and how could they defend Your Majesty if something happened when they could barely walk under all the extra metal and ornaments and it’s a waste, Sire, it should be given to the poor and even what Lewis wears on his days off is less ostentatious than this.

Lewis stands beside him, face solemn and serious, and says, like he’s announcing that they lost the northern flank and will have to retreat, that he, regretfully, cannot find his armour. He had the audacity to say, one year, that he fears his horse, Roscoe, may have ran off with it and that he’s not sure where he must have put it because Lewis had checked his stables and hadn’t been able to find it. Charles had nearly had to leave the hall as he tried not to laugh at the look on Michael’s face. Valtteri doesn’t even bother to come up with an excuse when he turns up, not wearing it.

Lewis seems to have had no trouble finding it now and neither of them appear at all slowed down by it.

Sebastian grins at him, flicking his hair from his face, down to two vambraces.

They watch as Sebastian attacks, slicing at Lewis’s gut before twisting his hand and arching the blade up. Lewis parries with the hilt of his long-axe and grins, slamming his forehead into Sebastian’s face, who curses. Sebastian stumbles, barely half a step backwards, but it’s enough space for Lewis to kick him in the chest. He follows him close, knocking his sword away. It all happens to quickly that Charles barely has time to blink.

Lewis presses the blade of his axe gently against Sebastian’s throat with one hand as he reaches for the knife at his waist and pulls it out. He taps the blade on Sebastian’s two vambraces as Sebastian glares at him.

“You already won, Hamilton,” Sebastian scowls, pushing the axe away with a careless hand. “There was no need to take my vambraces too.”

Lewis laughs, following him to the table where they left the rest of their armour. “Oh, but there was.” He bumps his shoulder into Sebastian’s. “It was funny. And aren’t you always telling me that I should laugh more?”

Sebastian grimaces, eyes light, and runs a hand though his hair.

“Since when have you ever listened to me?” He scrambles to hold up a hand, nearly hitting Lewis in the face. “And don’t say Baku. I explicitly told you not to talk to that man and—”

Lewis scoffs, “You fucking did not. You said to talk to him, that he had been watching me all night, and that he was a knight, not a bloody king.”

“How was I supposed to know that you were going to tell him that you heard a knight is always as hard as his armour and if you could check if the rumours are true?”

Charles chokes on nothing as Pierre starts giggling beside him.

Lewis shoves him and Sebastian laughs, something catching in Charles’s chest at the sound. “I was drunk, you bastard.”

“I still can’t believe that line worked. Though, King Jenson isn’t exactly the classiest of people.”

Lewis makes a noise in the back of his throat, half incredulous, “What has the world come to when Lord Sebastian Vettel is commentating on the lack of classiness a person has.”

Sebastian shrugs, the movement easy and rolling, and grins, his smile clumsy and wide on his face.

“What can I say, I am a pillar of virtue.”

Lewis laughs, eyes crinkling, Sebastian’s smile growing wider at the sight of it.

“Well,” Pierre says, voice pitched low, already smirking. Charles braces himself for whatever he is about to say. “I don’t think that is the kind of strip show you have been wanting Lord Vettel to do for you for years but I certainly enjoyed it.”

Charles coughs, and ignores his friend as Pierre cackles beside him. He slaps Pierre’s hand away when he reaches up to poke one of Charles’s flaming cheeks.

Lewis looks up, ruffling his hair, and catches Charles’s eye. Charles freezes, feeling like he’s caught doing something wrong even though there are at least half a dozen people watching training this morning. His eyes are dark and unreadable like they often are but then after a moment, he grins at him, nodding a little. Charles swallows back the heat of embarrassment at the weight of knowing in Lewis’s eyes and returns his nod.

Lewis reaches for one of the waterskins on the ground beside Sebastian, mouth moving, words too quiet for Charles to hear. Pierre laughs beside him.

Sebastian seems to still, his own waterskin halfway to his lips. Charles tries very hard to ignore how Lewis glances up at him again before saying something else that makes Sebastian’s training flushed cheeks darken even further.

Sebastian rolls his eyes, hair glowing light at the edges. Sometimes, Charles finds it difficult to look straight at him, catches himself looking a little to the left of him, at the space right above his ear.

“I nearly had you,” Charles can hear him say and his stomach sparks something hot and fizzing at the low scratch of his voice.

Lewis laughs again, pausing in taking off the last piece of his armour, a deep gold that is now dusty and scuffed, hand against his chest. “Nearly, old friend, as you very well know, is not good enough.”

Charles doesn’t miss the way Sebastian’s eyes flicker down to the long slash of a scar that circles Lewis’s throat where they tried to behead him and, like most people who try to stop the unmovable force that is Lewis Hamilton, they failed, before laughing with him.

“True,” Sebastian says, and throws the rest of his water into Lewis’s face. He tackles him at the waist while the other knight is distracted, both of them tumbling into the ground, dust and sand coughing up around them.

Pierre sighs heavily beside him. “I am a wonderful friend, I hope you know that.”

“You’re the worst,” Charles says, already dreading what Pierre’s about to do.

Pierre grins and ducks around him, too quick for Charles to catch him, and hurries down the stairs to their left. Stairs that lead to the courtyard.

Charles swears and follows him, nearly tripping over his feet. By the time he gets outside, Pierre is talking to Lewis and Sebastian, cheeks slightly pink, smile soft. The two knights are no longer wrestling on the ground, shirts dirty and untucked. The neck of Sebastian’s shirt is stretched out slightly, sweat pooling along his collarbone. Want hits Charles deep in his chest and he curls his fingers into fists, hands behind his back.

They half bow as Charles approaches them, one hand on their chests, and he awkwardly waves them off.

“Prince Charles,” Lewis says, eyes laughing, and Sebastian only smiles at him, saying nothing. “Sirs,” Charles replies, trying to not visibly react as Sebastian glances down at Charles’s chest where his shirt is open quite a bit. It’s hot, Charles wants to tell him and tries not to blush. His necklace feels heavy around his throat.

Beautiful, Sebastian had said, years ago, on Charles’s twenty-first birthday, stepping back. His fingers had been warm and feather-light where they brushed his neck as they clasped the chain together. Charles had wanted to grab them, trace their callouses, but he had only smiled, thank you, sir.

Call me Sebastian, Sebastian had laughed because Sebastian was always laughing. I couldn’t possibly, Charles had said, but thank you. Sebastian had shrugged, I’ll convince you. I’ve been told I can be quite stubborn. I’ll keep pestering you for as long as it takes. Charles had laughed, the next person holding a gift approaching, and thought, do you swear it?

Lewis leans one elbow on Sebastian’s shoulder as he takes off a boot, pouring the sand out. “I saw you watching us, Your Highness. I hope we put on a good show for you.”

He laughs as Sebastian steps on his foot.

Charles falters. “You looked very, um, your form looked very well. I mean, I —”

Why is he still talking?

“Your swordplay was very, um, precise. And, uh, experienced? I mean—”

“We know what you mean, Your Highness,” Sebastian interrupts, voice soft. “Thank you.”

Charles clears his throat. “Yes, well, you’re welcome.”

By the gods, shut up, Charles.

He cringes internally and stays focused on Sebastian’s face so he doesn’t have to look at Lewis’s who always seems to catch him looking at Sebastian during balls and meetings when he should be paying attention to everything else. He can practically feel Pierre vibrating beside him from the strain of holding in his laughter.

Charles keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the conversation, watching as Sebastian eventually drags his stare away, listening to whatever Pierre and Lewis are talking about.

He makes himself be distracted by George and Alex sparring two rings over, Yuki now gone, and not by Sebastian’s fingers playing with the strings of his shirt, the light hair on the back of his hand visible in the sun. His hands are smaller than mine, Charles thinks and despairs at himself.

Sebastian’s smile is quiet and his words are soft when he says, “Goodbye, Your Highness. Your Grace.” Lewis nods at both of them, eyes flickering from Sebastian to Charles back to Sebastian again, more brazen and bold than most would be.

Charles ignores him and he grins, saying something to Sebastian as they walk away that makes Sebastian speed up a little so Lewis has to jog to catch up.

“‘Your swordplay is experienced’. Really, petit calamardo? That’s the best you could do?”

Charles groans, dragging his hands down his face. “I am begging you to leave me alone.”

“Experienced! You just called Lord Vettel old, Charles. Old.”

#also sorry for the amount of sewis in it lol. they have been on my mind since i saw seb minding lewis’s scooter #threw in some platonic piarles for you too #might write more of this au but idk. we’ll see #sebchal #stuff i wrote #one! braincell bestie #f1 rpf fic #fic.asks #niamh.asks