Well, here it is. Because of the nature of the questions, IT IS NSFW, so if you’re uncomfortable with that, do not read, I have PLENTY of other work that aren’t NSFW at all that you can check ;-) (right here, my masterlist blog : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com). Anyway, I’m not great at writing headcanons so thought I practice a bit…hope you’ll still like it :
What turns them on?
✶When you touch him inappropriately in public. Especially at charities, galas and other balls. It drives him crazy the way you do it so sneakily so that no one but him notice. It’s a sure way to convince him to go home earlier. ✶Seeing you putting someone in their place with your wits and sarcasms after they’ve been rude to you…Oh he lives for this, and will have trouble to concentrate on anything else but wanting you. ✶Your smile. Your laugh. The way you light up his dark World. ✶That man has a thing with lifting your skirt slowly, and putting your panties aside. He couldn’t even tell you why, he just loves it. And obviously, it instantly turns him on when you let him. ✶Knowing that the emotions he feels for you can outlast the orgasm you both had. Oh yes. Knowing he’s loved, and can let go with you.
What turns them off?
There is very few things that turns him off when he’s with you, if not nothing (like literally, even when you’re being annoying, or when he’s being an ass, or if you just woke up and are disheveled and not really attractive…he’d still want you), as everything you do is just…Wow. He can’t get enough of you. Everything you do turns him on really. But He had experiences with other women before… : ✶Women who couldn’t handle a simple conversation. No connection at all with them, just sex. In and out, and then they’d be gone. He hated that. Which makes him love you more when you just spent time in each others arms talking about anything and everything. You’re the only one that makes him want to talk about what he feels and such…It’s a big relief. You’re his big relief. ✶He use to hate SO MUCH when he took a woman out that had a “fake hollywood accent”, or any fake accent. A lot of fake French one. They thought it made them more interesting, but the only thing it did, was making them super annoying to hear so…Yeah, massive turn off. He cringed more than once because of a high pitched voice, or an annoying one with a stupid fake accent. ✶Narcissism turned him off instantly. Oh the many women Alfred had to escort out because Bruce misjudge them…It happened to him a lot when he was younger, long before meeting you. He thought he’d find a kindred spirit, but turned out, it would just be a woman who wanted him for his money and fame, and who thought she was irresistible. Spoiler : those kind of women were rarely irresistible, to him at least. He could resist them very well. He could resist most women very well…But you. Oh you, it’s impossible. ✶Lack of passion. He just cannot even think about dating someone who isn’t passionate about anything. ✶Fake tits. That doesn’t even remotely look (or feel) natural. Fuck them. And oh the women he went out as a younger man had a lot of fake things physically (fake ass, tits, teeth, nose…), every thing was fake in them really, to their personality and smiles. He hated that with a passion, and often wished he could drop the “womanizer” and “playboy” persona, that wasn’t like his real him at all…Everything changed when you came in. You’re the best thing that ever happened to him, nothing fake about you (for real though, if you wanna tell him to fuck off because he’s being an asshole, they you’ll do so, and he loves that!).
✶Nearly violent sex. Bitey, grabby, pinny, not-holding-back sex. Paired with sweet words of encouragement and gentle forehead/Cheek kisses. ✶Surprise sex. You waking him up because his cock is in your mouth. Him whipping you around while you walk around the Manor, and boom. ✶Sex after an injury. He loves the way you’re careful with him, or how he needs to take care of you because you’re hurt. ✶He likes giving more than receiving. WITH YOU. Because he feels like he has to thank you to put up with his shit and antics…And you do it so well, oh he just has to please you. Doesn’t mean he’s against a good old blowjob though. Oh, and damn, the good old 69 am I right ? ✶He can be vanilla and/or rough, and you love it. He would never really hurt you (even if you ask him too, just light biting really), and most of the time you make love, rarely just fucking (unless you haven’t seen each other for a long time and you just need it)…He’s all for the sweet and cuddly aftercare. Cheesy man.
What turns them on?
✶You. Your mere presence. A slight touch of your fingers on his arms. And he’s gone. It’s not always great, like, you’d be in public and you’d just touch his thigh softly, as you do, and he’d give you “that look”… ✶Snuggles. Cuddles. Oh yes. ✶Neck kisses. It drives him beyond wild. ✶He will get harder inside you by the mere sound of your moans…And hearing you orgasm, clenching around him, is a sure way to send him over the edge too.
What turns them off?
✶Being with someone boring. Glad he found you. ✶If he’s with a “selfish lover”. He doesn’t mind giving at all, but for him, making love is a way to show mutual respect, to show how much you mean for each other…so if he’s with someone who only think about themselves ? No. ✶When his partner is too forward about wanting sex. “Want to fuck ?” Oh. Nope, he likes when it’s subtle. When you give him sultry looks and such. He likes the building up. ✶Bad breath. As simple as that.
✶Once, he was arguing with you and in the heat of the moment, you slapped his face. Of course you excused yourself profusely, until you realized he went from being annoyed to argue to being very aroused…You both learned something about him that day. So, light BDSM. Who would’ve thought ? ✶He lives for silly giggly sex. Pleasure, your moans and bad puns, how could it get better than this ? ✶Women’s mid sections. He loves slight belly and curvy hips. As simple as that. ✶He’s a sucker for romantic evening, that turns hot and steamy. ✶Rubbing your legs, ass and back during the act. Oh yeah.
What turns them on?
✶Seeing you punching people. It sounds awful, but the way you don’t let anyone walk on your feet and don’t hesitate to punch people even twice your size…He loves it. ✶If you wear a dress, your legs will instantly turn him on. He loves your legs. Especially when wrapped around his waist. ✶You love to dance, and hum songs you like…Big turn on every time, as he can’t get enough of your voice, and you’re damn sexy when you dance. ✶When you’re trying to contain yourself, but simply cannot. Muscles spasm and contort as you climax.
What turns them off?
✶Judgmental people. The kind who decides what you are before knowing you. ✶The daddy kink. Oh God, NO. ✶It’s something kinda silly, he knows, but he hates long unclipped toe nails. Ew. You laughed the first time he told you. Well, yeah, it’s super gross. ✶Lacks of enthusiasm and initiative. He can’t be with a woman who lets him do everything, chose everything for her. And who never initiates anything. Basically, the opposite of you.
✶Clothed sex, because it feels like you two are so hungry for each other, that you just can’t bother getting all the clothes off. ✶Sex games. First one to come loses. ✶Public and semi-public sex. Hey, he likes danger. When you two are almost caught…Oh the thrill. ✶He’s very creative when it comes to sexual position. As long as your comfortable of course…He’s sure glad you’re flexible by the way.
What turns them on?
✶Intelligent woman. Intelligence in general. ✶The way you look at him, with so much love, that makes him feel like he’s really wanted and needed…Sometimes, he just needs validation, as he doesn’t always gets it with his family. Fortunately, you’re here for that. ✶Nibbling on his ears and neck, while whispering sweet nothing. ✶Eye contact. He just loves it.
What turns them off?
✶Loud people. Oh God can’t they shut up ? He hasn’t slept for the past 36 hours and they’re making his head explode. Instant turn off if there’s too many noises. Though he loves your screams…It’s different ok ? ✶If you starfish. Making love is a thing he wants to do with you, not to a very passive you. Fortunately, you’re never able to “starfish”…you’d do it as a joke sometimes, because you know he doesn’t like it, and then you wouldn’t be able to resist moving in sync with him. ✶Nothing to talk about but yourself. Someone obsessed with themselves. Oh he hates it. He’s so glad he didn’t find someone who didn’t had any subject else than themselves. He’s so glad he found you. Because with the name “Wayne” comes a plethora of women only interested in money and fame, who loves no one else but themselves. ✶He hates feigned incompetence. Like a girl who acts like she doesn’t know anything about sex, while she’s clearly experienced. He always feels manipulated when this happens…
✶He loves to “discover boundaries”. Like what you like, dislike, what you two are willing to do, the extent you can go etc etc..Knowing just until where both of your boundaries go. ✶You two nerds invented a secret “sex langage” to be able to talk about it in public. Of course you would. ✶Nerdy dirty talk. Oh the puns about technologies, and pop culture you two are able to get out while making love : it’s endless. And he loves it. It makes him feel like he found just the perfect person for him. And you really are. ✶Lazy morning sex. Bath sex. Those private moment with you, where you can just both enjoy each other. Domestic moment sex if that makes sense.
Damian Wayne (older than his current age of course)
What turns them on?
✶Training together, seeing you fight and such. The way your body moves…Gets him every time. ✶The way you look at him and tell him “I love you”. He’ll never get tired of it. Seeing the love in your eyes for him, knowing you mean it, that there’s at least one person in the world that really love and appreciate his bratty ass. ✶When you caress his hair, fingers massaging his scalp. Soothing and arousing at the same time. ✶The way you bite your lips or stick out your tongue when you’re focused.
What turns them off?
✶He tries to be nice about it but…Body odors. If you smell because you two jumped on each other before you could take a shower…Instant turn off. Even his own smell could turn him off. Basically, if it smells bad, he won’t be able to concentrate on sex at all. He’s a living paradox however as he loves the smell of your sweat. ✶Hurting you. ✶Rude and vulgar people. ✶Lack of empathy.
✶Sensory deprivation. Like blindfolded, so you have to rely on trust and such. Or handcuffed, so you can’t touch and…again trust comes in. Sometimes, he would put headphones on your ears, so you wouldn’t know what his next move is by the sound…Basically, knowing you trust him and letting him do all that. ✶He likes trying new things.But will never do anything you’re uncomfortable doing of course. Consent is key. ✶Always the tease though. ✶Sometimes, he’ll argue with you ON PURPOSE just for the amazing make-up sex afterward…Each time you’ll give him a look meaning : “really Damian ?”, and he’ll just smirk back at you. He knows how to push all your buttons, and oh, he just really like the way you are during make-up sex. ✶You come first. He loves you, he wants you to be comfortable, but he also like trying new things and he’s so damn glad he found someones like you who’s willing to be adventurous.
He fucking stripped the song of the seductive aura and completely made it about emotions, missing someone, wanting them back. In the acoustic version he took his time, slowed it down, let the lyrics really sink in. It was so emotionally driven, man.
“Maybe more possible than you realise… My real name is Sabine Wren. I was sent in to get you out.” When Commander Sato’s Rebel Cell receives information that a number of imperial cadets wish to defect to the Rebels, Sabine Wren is sent in undercover to rescue them. The pilots – Wedge Antilles and Derek ‘Hobbie’ Klivian – would become two of the Alliance’s greatest assets, fighting in numerous battles against the Empire. — Wedge Antilles’ revised backstory as an Imperial Fighter Pilot from Star Wars Rebels.
Summary: Tom has to read a script and Tessa keeps trying for him to play with her.
Warnings: Swearing cause I swear IRL and so does Tom so :,)
Word Count: 1,200
A/N: Currently typing this with a killer migraine. I have a IIH so it’s hard for me to type sometimes but I really feel dedicated for posting stuff for you all.
“Babe can you come grab Tess? she keeps knocking my script out of my hands and her actions finally tore a page out.” Tom whines from the living room.
“Tom you’re sounding an awful like your child..” I say moving the kettle to start the tea.
“Just because Jaxon said she ate his homework to a teacher does not mean the same thins as what I’m saying love” he defends groaning loudly. Rolling your eyes you place your hand on your hip. Walking to the living room only to see Tom trying to tape his scrip back together. My eyes widening, he really was serious.
“Tess, babe why’d you do that to Daddy’s script?” I ask leaning over picking up a piece of paper that was stuck to her paw. Handing it to Tom I turn back to her. Her tail wags as she looks up at you. You were the good cop and Tom now the bad cop since the two of you got married.
“Tessa Holland,outside now” I say pointing to the sliding door to your back yard. Hopefully she could get whatever out of her system by running around outside. Opening the door you watch her walk out with her tail in between her legs.
“So do you believe me now?” Tom asks holding up his scrip that now had serious tape lines in it.
“I believed a portion of it but I didn’t believe it when Jaxon said she ate his homework…” you laugh kissing your husbands head.
“She’s been acting up lately, she isn’t like this..” Tom sighs running his fingers through his hair. Ruffling Tom’s curls you head back in to the kitchen. Grabbing both of your mugs. You were too tired to get up on a stool to get the tea cups when you would have to put them back later.
“Darling, can you steep mine a while longer please?” he asks you from his seated position. His eyes focused as he mutters his lines to himself.
“Yes love, don’t leave her outside for two long or she’ll smell.. something is in the air that’s clinging to her fur and it’s making me stuffed up” I let out a slight groan at the pressure under my eyes.
After finishing Tom and I’s tea I walk towards the living room. He takes his tea in his left setting his script on his lap. Setting my tea on the coaster next to my chair. I then open the door to let Tessa in. She runs right past me to towards Tom. Before he could set his mug aside, her head hits it causing the liquid to land on top of his script.
“God dammit!” Tom shouts standing up. Tessa whimpering while backing away from Tom. Heading to the kitchen as quick as you can to come back with an ice pack. His hand was red and his clothes soaked. Placing the ice pack on his hand I take his mug away to the kitchen. Hearing thuds ascend the stairs of her probably running up to Jaxon.
“Tessa no, come back..” Tom sighs tilting his head back. He looked frustrated and tired. His shoulders sink in defeat.
“babeeeeee what do I do, Tess is probably upset with me..” His head tilts in your direction. Lower lip pouting out like a child’s would. Why is your husband low-key a child? Man child? Yeah that sounds about right..
“Maybe in her own little dog world she was trying to lend a helping hand?” my voice coming out more like a question.
“How could she lend a helping hand? she’s a dog!” he laughs walking over to you.
“A lending paw?” you try and reason with him.
“Darling,how do I fix things with our dog child?” He asks pulling you close to his body. Placing your hands on his cheeks you rub them with your thumbs. The gesture making him smile. Turning his face he kisses both of your palms.
“You know when you go after Jax when he interrupted a call? What did you do after when you raised your voice at him?” I ask rubbing the stubble adorning his jaw.
“I apologized to him and took him out for ice cream cause I felt bad” He responds after thinking of the memory you shared.
“Now I just bought her new treats, they’re in the cupboards so Jax doesn’t give them to her too often” i explain pointing towards the one you were talking about in the kitchen. Tom follows you into the kitchen,his arms still wrapped around your waist.
“Tom grab a T-R-E-A-T and call her down here now” I say sliding over the jar to him. Popping the lid open he grabs one closing the jar after. Giving you a peck on the cheek he walks towards the living room.
“Tessa, come here please love” Tom calls out to the household. A thud sounds from the second floor. Tessa’s tags jingle as she heads down the stairs. Her grey figure comes down the stairs to sit at the bottom in front of Tom. Tess’s head is tilted down not looking at Tom.
Nudging Tom he stumbles forward a bit,looking back at you. Giving him a thumbs up he looks back at her. His finger tilting her chin up to look at him. She looked so sad looking at him.
“Now Tessa, I don’t know if you can hear me but Daddy is very sorry for raising his voice at you… Mumma made me realize you were lending a helping paw but I guess things just kind of backfired huh? Mistakes happen love and we can grow from them.. I want to say I’m sorry love, please forgive meeee” Tom pleads holding the treat as an offering of love.
He didn’t know but you were recording the whole thing. You wanted evidence of him being such a dog dad. Tessa barks happily taking the treat out of his hand. Once she finishes chewing she jumps on him making him fall backwards. Laughter coming from Tom as he pulls her close.
“See I told you it would work” I say smugly turning off the video.
“You’re such a mom that’s why” he looks over at you as he gets slobbered on.
“Yes I am, gotta keep all the Hollands in check in this household” A grincomes to your lips at your statement. Hands going up to your hips.You were such a mom but you loved it, every minute of it.
“Not even yourself love?” Tom gets up heading towards you. His arms engulfing you into a warm hug.
“I married into the name so I just have to watch out for the rest of you guys, that’s what mom’s do and what wives do Thomas Stanley Holland” You smirk up at him causing a chuckle to come out of him.Tom’s lips press against your forehead repeatedly. A moment of silence fills the air. It was these moments you loved with your husband. Peaceful moments when he wasn’t tied up with work.
“I love you darling” His accent soothing you.You loved everything about this man with your entire soul.
“I love you most” I whisper resting my head against his chest. Swaying together in the kitchen as he hums ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love with You.’
Anon: College Klance, where Keith’s sick but he has a really important test in one of his classes so he goes to class anyway. Keith and Lance happen to have that class together, and normally Lance just tries to ignore the other boy, but the Keith waddles in wearing a big coat, scarf and a wool beanie. It’s like 80 degrees out, so he knows somethings off. Bonus: For Keith being light headed and having to be carried back to his dorm room. (PS Thank you for writing awesome fics)
A/N: So I heard you guys liked pining Lance. Cashing in the bonus, someone should draw Keith in winter gear with the scarf covering his face up to his bright-red nose.
Lance hadn’t noticed the boy before. He hadn’t noticed that mullet hair, or that red jacket, or that little glance they shared when the boy would walk in a minute before class started-
Okay, maybe he’d noticed. But that’s just because the guy sat in front of him in the lecture hall! How could he not look at the way his stupid hair turned up at the ends or the stupid way he twirled his stupid pencil with his stupid nice fingers-
Okay. Maybe he’d done more than notice. Maybe he’d put in some extra effort into trying to see the boy’s name on his test. Maybe he’d lost track of class while watching the boy lazily doodle on his notes. Maybe he’d seen ‘Keith Kogane’ on the list of packages at the front desk of his dorm hall and almost choked. Just maybe, though. Probably not. Definitely not.
Summary: In an act of heroism Castiel sacrifices one of his wings to save lives. But he isn’t sure he wants to live tethered to the ground, never to dance in the sky again. Two stubborn Winchester brothers have faith that his future isn’t quite so grim, and that flight may be possible someday. Castiel thinks they’re full of shit, but in the face of Dean’s cheerful optimism it’s hard not to believe.
- - -
Ah, and there’s the rage again. “What recovery?” Castiel snarls. His feathers rise up with his anger, and pain assails him as his wings try to flex with his mood. This time it’s Dean who walks him through the calming breaths, although he doesn’t touch Castiel the same way Sam does. When he’s got control of his wings again, Castiel glares at Dean. “I know what kind of damage I took. My wing is useless.”
“Yeah, it sure as hell is,” Dean says on a sigh.
The immediate agreement makes Castiel blink in confusion. “Wh-what?”
Dean turns his attention back to Castiel’s wing, waving a hand at it which makes Castiel look too. “Well, I mean look at it. Half the feathers are gone, and the skin is covered in stitches. And I got a look at the chart, so I know exactly what all got sewn up.”
From this angle Castiel can’t see all of the damage. Most of the feathers are gone from the back side of the wing, and he only sees the underside. Some feathers are still missing, but in smaller patches. There are splints holding the part below the wrist joint straight, and another splint holding the wing out so he can’t fold it to his body. The sling holds it up so it’s perpetually spread.
“I’m not gonna lie to you,” Dean says, turning his attention back to Castiel. “It’s going to be a shitload of work to get it back to any kind of useful condition.”
“Why bother?” Castiel mutters. “I’ll never fly again.”
“Never say never,” Dean counters with a cheeky grin. Then his eyes grow serious. “You may be right. You may never fly again.”
Tears prickle at the back of Castiel’s eyes, and he turns his face into the pillow to hide them from this stranger. This stranger who offers him hope and despair in one breath.
“But I know you’ll definitely never fly again if you don’t try,” Dean continues. “And if you ask me, some chance is better than no chance.”
“No one asked you,” Castiel mutters into his pillow.
Dean chuckles. “True, but I’m real good at sticking my nose in other people’s business.”
“You sound like an awful person.”
“My patients would probably agree with you,” Dean says brightly. “I’ve been told I’m a master of torture, and that working with me is pure hell.”
Castiel turns his head enough that he can peek at Dean with one eye. And sure enough, the man is grinning at him. Proudly. “I doubt it was meant as a compliment.”
When Dean shrugs his whole body moves with it. Shoulders, mouth, and eyebrows shifting before his expression settles back into a pleased grin. “I get results.” He winks. “And thank you cards.”
Fastening your gold high heels, you wiggle your freshly painted toes, the metallic paint shining back at you. You walk to the long length mirror, assessing your appearance and making sure everything was perfect. The red dress you were wearing showed all of your curves off beautifully, your ass looking particularly plump.
A knock on the door makes you jump, before you grab your clutch from the chair, triple checking your hair one last time and opening the door. “So? Will it do?”
Happy’s eyes roam up and down your body, causing you to smirk. Tonight, you were working for the club, sweetening some deal with an investor that the club needed. Being the good old lady you are, you agreed pretty much straight away, accepting that you couldn’t be given too many details just yet.
Even though you were completely fine with doing this, your fiancé took a little more convincing, not wanting any man to even think he had a chance with you, let alone spend a whole evening with you.
“I should just take you here, right now.“ he growls, his hands grabbing at your hips and pulling you towards him. “This job is bullshit.”
You smirk in response, placing your hands upon his face and bringing his lips to yours, trying to reassure him through the kiss. Nibbling playfully at his bottom lip, you pull away, hunger in his eyes. “It’s just a job, baby. I’m all yours.”
“Don’t you fucking forget it.” he warns, his insecurities being hidden by his dominant tone. Smiling lovingly at your man, you entwine your fingertips with his, the two of you heading downstairs.
“You look beautiful.” You squeeze his hand at the compliment, wishing you could just stay here, lost between the sheets with Happy.
You walk into the living room, being welcomed with whistles and hollers from Jax, Tig, Chibs and Juice. You feel your man stiffen up in anger, him pulling his hand out of yours and sitting down, a murderous look on his face. Rolling your eyes, you grin. “Thanks, guys. We all set?”
Jax looks around to the other members, them nodding in confirmation as they all stand, Juice and Tig walking past you, squeezing your shoulder in encouragement as they leave.
“Tig and Juice are going to ride ahead, stake the place out just to make sure it’s all good.” Jax explains, your mind racing with ideas of what could go wrong. He must notice the change in your expression, a reassuring grin slipping onto his lips. “It’s just a precaution, darlin’. We’ll look after you.”
Nodding, you blow out a deep breath, telling yourself to calm down. “Me and Hap are driving you there, and we’ll walk you in and introduce you. You good?”
“Yep, I’m good.” you reply, looking at your sulking partner on the sofa. Jax follows your gaze, sympathy on his face as he looks at his brother. Happy stands, refusing to meet your eye, and nods once at his brother, leaving without even acknowledging you.
“He’ll be fine.” Jax starts, his hands resting on your shoulders comfortingly. “It’s gonna be hard for him to watch, we’d all be the same. Thank you for this, (Y/N).”
Sighing deeply, you stare at the door Happy just left out of. “I’m happy to help. I just hope he understands that.”
“That sounds awful.” you laugh, taking a sip from the fruity alcohol in your glass. Tony, the man you were trying to persuade, grimaces at the memory.
“Believe me, sweetheart, it was.” You were actually having quite a good time, the sleazeball you were expecting actually turning out to be a pretty decent guy. Although, you found it hard to focus, Happy glaring at Tony’s back so harshly you were surprised he hadn’t dropped dead.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to powder my nose.” you state sweetly, grabbing your purse and heading towards the toilets.
You’ve barely washed your hands when you hear a light knock on the bathroom door, your heels clicking on the floor as you walk, pulling open the door. “Juice?”
“Jax told me to come get you, it’s time to go.” he explains, your eyebrow raised in confusion. You’d barley eaten your starter, how was it already sorted?
“Oh, christ,” you groan, your head shaking in disbelief as you solve the puzzle yourself. “Happy?”
Juice chuckles nervously, not wanting to land his brother in the dog house, but not wanting to lie to you either. Looking across to the table you were sitting at just minutes before, you see its been vacated, a few notes left on top to clear the barely there bill. “Let’s just say Happy made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
Juice leads you outside, his hand on your back protectively as you move past wandering eyes. Once you reach the outside, you catch eyes with your dumb ass boyfriend, giving him no expression. “Take me home, Jax.”
You hear low whistles as you shut the door, Happy telling his brothers to shut up as they wish him luck, your wrath having its own reputation.
“Babe?” you roll your eyes as you take off your makeup, the apologetic voice behind you being one you know oh too well. Enjoying the effect your silent treatment is having, you move past Happy, plugging in your phone and placing it on your bedside table.
“I’m sorry for ruining the fun you were having with that slimy prick.” Happy growls, jealously dripping from his words. Scoffing, you walk up to your man, pointing your finger at him accusingly.
“Don’t you dare try and make me feel guilty, Hap.” you scold, his harsh eyes softening as you tell him off. Folding your arms, you try to stay serious, wanting Happy to know he’s not going to get off the hook so easily. “It’s not my fault you can’t control your jealousy. All I wanted to do was help, do my bit for the club.”
“You did, I just sped up the process.” Happy argues, smirking at you, your hard shell cracking at his playful demeanor. You hit his chest warningly, a sigh leaving you.
“I wanted to do this, Hap, prove my loyalty to you and SAMCRO.” you explain, pulling him by his arm and pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed. He pulls the front of your shirt, spreading his legs for you to stand between, his hands resting on your hips.
“You got nothing to prove, baby girl. Club loves you, I love you. You’re family now.” His fingers squeeze at your skin as he talks, your own fiddling with the neckline of his leather kutte.
Locking your arms around his neck, you straddle Happy’s lap, his touch slipping under your shirt as he traces soothing circles, goosebumps appearing on your body. “What am I going to do with you?”
He grins at your statement, knowing he’s back on your good side - not that he ever left - as he falls back on the bed, bringing you down with him. His grip slips south as you bring your lips down to his, squealing into the kiss as he roughly squeezes your ass.
Pulling back, you tease the man beneath you, hovering over him but not letting his lips connect back to yours. “I love you, you protective bastard.”
He smirks, knowing that despite his uncontrollable jealousy, you’d never want him any other way.
A/N - I find it so easy to write about Happy, I feel like he’s got so many layers to him, so many different personalities. What a daddy😂😍
I couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so I wrote it! Also sorry for the lack of quality, school just started and I’m already stressed. Words: 1.7k
Lance hid a cough in his shoulder as he listened to Shiro explain the filming schedule for the season finale, his voice sounding as if it was a hundred feet underwater, the words just barely reaching Lance. He swayed slightly on his feet, his legs feeling like jelly underneath him, ready to give out at any moment. “Lance!” Shiro snapped, throwing him a sharp glare, all eyes turning to the pale boy. “Are you listening?”
“Y- yes,” Lance stammered, the words tearing at his throat, making it feel like it was on fire. Out of the corner of his eye Lance could see Keith giving him a strange look, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth pursed. Lance ignored him, turning his attention to the director, who was very clearly getting annoyed at Lance’s lack of concentration.
“As you know the finale needs to be out in three days, so I will need all hands on deck and everyone’s full concentration” Shiro continued. “Keith, Lance, are your lines memorized? As the stars of the show you need to be fully focused and ready to give this all you’ve got.”
“That won’t be a problem, Shiro,” Keith confirmed, staring at Lance. “Lance, are you set?”
“Of course, I know my lines like the back of my hand,” Lance shot back, his voice cracking just a tiny bit, unnoticable if you weren’t paying attention. Even so Keith gave him another strange look as if trying to read Lance.
“Excellent. Hunk, are we set on food? You’ll need to have breakfast for everyone…” Lance drifted in and out of concentration, Shiro’s words nothing more than background noise, like faint music barely discernable. It was Keith that brought him out of his stupor, shaking Lance by the shoulders.
“Come on, we need to go see Coran at hair and makeup.” Lance blinked, the scene in front of him going in and out of focus, an old picture that he couldn’t seem to make out.
“What?” The words seemed foreign to Lance, like someone else was speaking for him.
“What’s wrong with you today?” Keith said, urging him towards hair and makeup. “You’re never this out of it.” Lance knew that Shiro would stop filming if he knew Lance wasn’t feeling well, but there was no way he would ever disappoint his colleagues, or the fans by making the finale late. The entire season had been building up to it, and he would crush thousands of people if it was late.
“Nothing, just didn’t get much sleep last night,” Lance lied, remembering how he had slept through three different alarms that morning and had woken up in a panic, ten minutes left to get to the studio.
“You’re going to need to be alert,” Keith reprimanded. “If you slow down filming at all because you’re ‘tired’ Shiro’s going to be pissed.”
“I know,” Lance sighed. “I’ll get myself together, I just need to wake up more first.”
Lance nearly fell asleep at hair and makeup. Coran slowly spread bronzer over his pale, sickly complexion in a vain attempt to make him not look like an extra in a zombie movie. The urge to cough bubbled up in his throat and Lance pushed it back down, not wanting to disrupt Coran. Coran’s hands passed over Lance’s forehead and Lance could feel him tense as his fingertips lingered on Lance’s forehead a second too long.
“You feel warmer than usual, my boy,” he frowned. “Are you feeling well?”
“Fine,” Lance responded, taking the opportunity to subtly swipe at his nose, the powder drifting around him in the air irritating his nostrils. “I run warm sometimes, it’s nothing to worry about.” Lance could tell that Keith was tuning into the conversation in the next seat over, his head turned just enough so that he could see Lance out of the corner of his eye. Lance decided to make it his mission to ignore Keith for the remainder of the day. Keith was observant, there was no denying that, and Keith running his mouth would inevitably result in problems and added stress for everyone.
“Are you positive?” Coran pushed. “You’re quite pale as well.”
“I’m feeling great!” Lance snapped. He let out a shaky sigh, remorseful when he spotted Coran’s hurt expression. “Just keep going, I’m fine.”
After half an hour Lance was looking slightly less pale, although it had been impossible to cover up the faded pink patches, high on Lance’s cheekbones. “Here is your costume,” Coran said, tossing Lance a pair of jeans and a blue tank top. Lance mentally cursed when he saw the outfit, drawing his jacket tighter around him. He was already freezing, goosebumps popping up on his arms. The AC was on full blast, making the studio feel like the arctic tundra to Lance. He eyed the tank top with disdain, knowing he would be freezing in the skimpy fabric.
“Thanks, Coran,” he sighed, accepting the clothes. He ducked into his cramped dressing room, the mirror reflecting a ghostly pale boy huddled in a massive jacket, barely concealed bags hanging underneath glassy eyes. Lance’s nose twitched and he stifled a sneeze, muffling it into his arm. Relief filled him for half a second until he stifled another sneeze, a tiny tear rolling down his face. His nose was completely blocked up at that point in the day, making breathing from his nose impossible, and he was positive that any talking he had to do would be a congested mess.
He slid on his outfit, goosebumps popping up on every inch of his skin. A violent shudder passed through his body and he rubbed his hands up and down his arms, coaxing a small bit of warmth into his limbs.
“You look like hell,” Keith announced as they simultaneously stepped out of their dressing rooms, Keith dressed in a warm looking leather jacket and black jeans, appropriate of his tough but kind character, Lance’s love interest in the show.
“At least I don’t look like someone from a hot topic ad,” Lance shot back, the waver in his voice destroying any chance that Keith would take him seriously.
“Just come here,” he sighed.
“You look like you have a fever. You’re obviously sick.” He reached over to feel Lance’s forehead but Lance ducked away, barely evading Keith’s hand.
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “Just tired. Come on, Shiro will be mad if we’re late for filming.”
“Lance, it’s your line!” Shiro yelled from his director’s chair for the umpteenth time, angrily throwing his script onto the floor. “Allura, stop filming.” The cameras stopped rolling as Shiro stomped onto set, placing himself directly in front of Lance. Lance gulped, a thousand razor blades going down his throat. He nearly cried out in pain but bit his tongue, not wanting to give any sort of indication that he was sick. It was impossible to deny at this point, the fever brewing underneath his skin making his condition obvious. From the special effects booth Pidge cut the lighting, making Lance’s pale face stand out like a corpse.
“Lance is something wrong?” Shiro asked and Lance could tell he was trying to keep his temper in check. Shiro cared about all of his cast and crew but often his frustration got the better of him. “You’re missing all your cues, you don’t know any of your lines and your acting is way off.”
“Can I go to the bathroom?” The words spilled out of Lance’s mouth, a waterfall of words pouring out of him. Lance could feel Keith’s eyes on the back of his neck, boring into him.
“I think we could all use a break,” Shiro decided, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his temples. Lance felt a sharp pang of guilt as he saw Shiro’s obvious stress, knowing that he was the one who had caused it . “Everyone, be back here in ten minutes ready to do your best.” As the stage emptied around him Shiro stopped Lance, gently putting his hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Honestly Shiro I’m fine,” Lance responded, the last two words coming automatically. “By the end of the break I’ll be ready to work my hardest and do my best.” Lance’s smile was the definition of fake, not even close to reaching his fever glazed eyes.
“Perfect,” Shiro grinned.
As soon as Shiro was down the hallway and out of sight, the stage completely empty Lance bent over, coughs raking their way up his burning throat. Tears sprang to his eyes, rolling freely down his flushed cheeks. The makeup that Coran had spent so long trying to perfect was gone, the fact that he would have to re-do it making Lance feel a hundred times worse.
It was hard to say how long the fit went on for but the only thing Lance knew was when he stood up, completely wiped out Keith’s hand was on his back, the black haired boy staring at him with such concern it was hard to believe.
“Don’t try to tell me you’re fine, because I know you’re not,” Keith said before Lance could get a word out. Keith slapped a hand to Lance’s forehead, wincing when he felt the heat rolling off of the brunet in waves. “You’re burning up.” Lance tried to take a step but he nearly fell over, Keith catching him before he hit the ground.
“I’m freezing,” was Lance’s only response, his voice raw.
“You sound awful,” Keith commented as he slid out of his leather jacket, wrapping it around Lance’s shoulders. It engulfed Lance like a blanket, making him look tiny. “You could have told me you were sick, you know. Or you could have told Shiro, or Coran, or anyone else. You don’t have to work through illnesses.”
“I know,” Lance sighed, leaning heavily on Keith for support. Keith’s face relaxed as he saw that Lance was finally giving in, admitting his obvious illness. “It’s just that we’re on such a tight schedule, and it would be my fault if the finale was late coming out, and thousands of people would be disappointed. I couldn’t do that to everyone.” He let out another weak cough, looking smaller than ever.
“Everyone cares more about your health than when the show comes out,” Keith gently reminded him. “Take a break, take some medicine. Work will still be here when you’re better.”
Dating Chandler would include…
-lots of making out but never going all the way
-getting beat at video games
-going to music festivals
-getting jealous of Carl and Enid and Chandler reminded you that he loves you more than anything
-lots and lots of cuddles
- playing with his hair when he falls asleep on you
-coming to some of his meet and greets
- lots of bad eye puns
-him serenading you, but it sounds awful because he can’t sing, which results in you laughing until you can’t breathe
-lastly, being his biggest fan
Just Say the Word (Young Remus Lupin x reader-- SMUT)
A/N: OKAY so this is one of the first few times that i’ve attempted smut and i’m low key proud of it (??) like the ending got a little muddled but i love this idea sm ahhhhhh
word count: 1357
warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, swearing
It’s the day after the full moon. Your boyfriend, Remus, hasn’t been to any of his classes today and you can’t say you’re surprised. It kills you, though. You’re always nervous the day after. You can’t pay attention to anything. All you can think of is rushing to the hospital wing after potions to see him.
The bell rings and you’re the first one out the door. You’re running as fast as you can manage in the now crowded corridors. You get to the infirmary and look all around, asking Madam Pomfrey if she’d seen Remus today. She had and she sent him back up to his dorm an hour before. You nod and thank her. Now, all you have to do is get back to the Gryffindor common room.
You climb the stairs to the boys’ dorms. You come to his door and exhale. It creaks as you open it, causing him to look up. “Y/N, hey.” He says sleepily. He sounds awful.
You sit on the edge of his bed and look down at him with a sad smile. “Hi.” You examine his face carefully, tilting it toward you. He has a black eye, and a scratch on his collarbone. You just barely trace your fingers over it, frowning. He lets out a quiet hiss. You retract your hand quickly. “Sorry! I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head slightly. “No, no. It’s okay. Just- hurts.” He huffs, reaching to intwine his fingers with your own.
“What did Pomfrey say?” You ask, softly brushing hair out of his face.
“I’ll be fine.” He assures you. “Gonna take a few days till I’m 100 percent, but I’m fine.” He tries to sit up, but ends up whimpering and grabbing his torso. “Really.”
You sigh. “Okay. Shirt off.” You stand up and help him lift his tee over his head. You gasp. His torso is littered with bruises and scrapes. “Oh my God, Remus!”
He bites his lip, wincing. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I p-promise.”
“Shush.” You press your finger to his lips, pushing him flat on his back, before kneeling up on his bed and straddling him. “This okay?”
“Mm.” He grins down at you, sitting lightly on his pelvis. “What’re you doing down there, sweetheart?” He reaches a hand up to cup your cheek. You place your hand on top of his and lean into it.
“I just..” Your eyes close. “I don’t want you to hurt anymore.” You lean down, placing cautious, barely-there kisses on each and every scratch, scar, and purple mark on his chest. “Close your eyes, now.” You coo, sitting up slightly to look at his face.
“Y/N-” He tries to protest.
“Close them.” You give him a bit of a look and he obeys. You carefully press your lips to his bruised eye and all the space around it, before laying one last peck on his nose. “What are we gonna do with you?” You giggle. He opens his eyes. You can taste his breath. He adjusts himself slightly to close the space between your mouths. The longer it goes on, the more intense it gets. Your tongues sloppily connecting and exploring each other’s mouths. A “mouth battle,” as Sirius and James would call it.
Then, you feel it. He’s gotten a bit too excited. You blush and laugh against his lips. “I’m sorry.” He mutters, chuckling as well.
You shake your head. “No, it’s my fault.” You sit up and are about to move off of him when he pulls you back down. He has that look in his big brown eyes, the one he always has when you two were about to get intimate. “Wha- Remus, no. No, you’re hurt. As much as I’d love to-”
“Please, Y/N. Just to distract me from the pain.” He whines.
“Rem, don’t do this.” You frown. “I don’t wanna risk hurting you more.”
He’s determined, though. “Please.” He grabs your hand. You don’t budge. “Please.” He can tell you’re starting to give in as he kisses your knuckles. “Please.” Goddamn it.
“Okay, okay.” You sigh in defeat. He sits up, beaming, ready to trade positions with you when you gently place a hand to his chest, pushing him back down. “Mm-mm. You aren’t moving. M'gonna take care of you, yeah?” You assure him softly. You’re actually incredibly nervous to do this. Your biggest concern is causing him more pain than he’s already in.
You slip off your shirt and toss it haphazardly on the floor, your pants along with it. You look to him. You can tell he senses your uneasiness. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just- I love you and I want you.. And I know that you’d make me feel a lot better. We don’t have to, though.”
“I want to. I’m just afraid that-” You cut yourself off. “Listen, if something goes wrong, hurts you, you have to tell me.”
He nods, his eyes gazing up and down your body as you unclasp your bra. “Stop staring, Moony.” You giggle.
“Sorry.” He smiles. “You’re just- you’re so beautiful.”
You shake your head, trying not to blush. “Okay. Okay.” Your hands are shaking as you slide down his body, removing his sweatpants and boxers in one slow, trembling movement.
“S'alright, love.” Remus watches you and how fidgety you are. “It’s only me.” He reaches for you and you give him your hand.
You take a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah.” You scoot back up so you’re on his hips. You let him tug at the hem of your panties, before you pull them down completely. You lower yourself onto him, quite slowly. A little more than halfway down, you hear him let out a whimper. “Rem?!” You stop your movements immediately. Your eyes are now fixated on his face, instead of your own thighs. His eyes are closed and his fingers are tangled in his bedsheets.
“No- no. I- it’s fine. You’re just- so- this is good.” He finally manages the words. “Mm.. S'good.” You feel yourself get more excited as you slide down the rest of his length. God, he felt good inside you. You let out a quiet moan. His hands make their way to your hips as you buck them forward gently. “God, Y/N.” His breath hitches as you make your way back up him, your anxieties now having slipped your mind.
After a few go arounds, you feel him thrust into you. You gasp. It felt damn good, but you didn’t want him moving. “Hey, easy.” You lay a hand on his chest, while the other finds his own, still resting on your hip. “Easy.. If you want something, just say the word, babe. Use your words.” You lean down and kiss him roughly.
“Faster.” He murmurs against your lips.
You smirk. “S'all you had to say, love.” And with that, you sit up, quickening your pace.
“Y/N- sweetheart- fuck!” He groans.
The knots in your stomach tighten at his words. “Remus- I-” You grasp for his hands and close your eyes, wanting to let go, so badly. “I can’t.”
“Go on. Go on, I’ve got you. F- fuck.” He spits the words out as quickly as he can. He takes one hand off your waist and brings it to your clit, stroking it vigorously, helping you along. The new sensation sends you over the edge with a shriek of his name. The pure ecstasy has you squeezing his hand and trying to find something else to hold onto. “That’s it, angel- Oh my- Mm- Babe- I-” He’s at a loss for words. You feel him finish. You lean down and bury your face in the crook of his neck. He kisses the top of your head. You’re both panting. “Thank you.” He sighs. You nod in response.
You climb off of him after a minute or two and just lie next to him. You pull a blanket up over the two of you and snuggle into him, careful not to get too clingy. He turns on his side to face you, wincing slightly. “New monthly tradition?” He kisses your nose.
Here’s a fic based on the first part of this post w/ College AU klance, Lance sick and stranded at the airport, and Keith knowing what caretaking is.
For Lance, bad news comes in the form of a woman’s voice, calmly notifying the lobby full of passengers that their flight to Michigan has been delayed for five hours due to severe weather conditions. His stomach drops. Uncomfortable dread washes over him. He can’t take another five hours in the airport, he just can’t.
Once I was playing Caitlyn and my support (Karma) started saying: “Why you don’t poke? You’re so bad! I can’t stay in this lane with this ADC!” So she moved to mid lane and we lost the game. I hate when my supports do that instead of teaching me how to play better!