Huh?

19//He:They

[supernovaa-sn]

𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 

description: Driver gets in to some trouble, you help him out in more ways than one. 

word count: 2.3k

a/n: watched Driver again which is always dangerous territory for me </3 also massive thank you to @littlefromthewhitesea for reading through this multiple times editing it and basically working hand in hand with me to finish it, my full stop guru who knows the English langue better than I do <3 (also first time posting my fics guys, kinda nervous) okay enjoy, mwah! 

tags/warnings: nsfw, smut, heavy mentions of blood, injury and inaccurate medical stuff, Driver x afab reader, possible inaccurate car stuff idk I just drive mine. 

read on a03

A sharp knock at the door draws your attention away from the tv. Walking towards it, you spot his car parked outside on the curb. Your smile drops when you see the state of him. He's leaned up against your door frame, his face would almost be the same shade of white as his jacket, if it weren’t for the blood.

It is soaked through, splatters cover his arms but your eyes are glued on his abdomen, where his hand was clutching. You suspect that’s where the majority of the blood is coming from. You can feel the bile rise in your throat. You quickly usher him in, taking his free arm and putting it around your shoulder. ''We need to get you to a hospital-'' you sputter out. ''No'' he murmurs, breath coming out in heavy puffs. You sigh and gently shake your head and continue to lead him to the bathroom. 

It’s the first time you've seen him like this. He's come back with a few cuts and bruises before, nothing a butterfly stitch couldn't fix but this. This is different. You know he's involved in things that aren't legal but he doesn't like to tell you much. 'The less you know the better' you remember him saying one night with a soft kiss on your forehead before he speeds on into the night. 

He pulls his hand off his wound to show you before you immediately push it back. ''Keep pressure on it. I'll be right back okay.'' You stammer out, he groans in response pushing his hand hard against it. His head falls back, resting it against the cold tile wall, as you scramble out of the bathroom. You haphazardly grab the first aid kit and whatever you think you might need: thread, cotton, antiseptic, alcohol. You know he doesn't usually touch the stuff but he's going to need something for this, and hell you might need some too. 

You come back into the bathroom to see his eyes half lidded looking towards you. You let out a little sigh of relief seeing he's still breathing. Laying everything out on the floor, you settle in between his knees, you look up at him and with a shuddering breath, trying to figure out where to start. You slowly unzip his jacket and peel it from his shoulders, muttering a few 'sorrys' as he tries and fails to suppress his groans. With the jacket off, the wound is clearly bad. It’s jagged. You try to steady your breathing as you feel the blood drain from your face. If you had to guess, you'd think it was from Driver trying to get away from whoever was attacking him. Considering he's sitting in front of you, you'd guess the other guy ended up worse off. 

“It’s not deep” he breathes out a you place a hand on his thigh. ' You cut him off before he can say anything else, ''I don’t think that’s for you to decide,'' you mutter. Examining the wound, you try to see if you can even find where the damage is through all the blood. Overwhelmed, you shake your head trying to shake some sense in to yourself There's only so long you can put this off for. You're scared but you know he's definitely more scared than you right now. He wouldn't have turned up at your door like this unless he didn't have anywhere else to go. 

With another shaky breath, you grab a cloth and start to clean him up, you shuffle closer on your knees. You feel him tense under your hand as you struggle to wipe the blood away to find where he begins and where the wound ends. Your other hand draws small circles on his thigh, giving small reassuring squeezes.

You wipe away as much blood as you're able to with the wound still pulsing, you quickly thread the needle and will your hands to stop shaking. You've only ever seen him sew up a wound on his leg before so you're less than qualified, but right now doing anything is better than doing nothing and he'll have to be happy with it. ''Try to stay still for me.'' you breathe out. His hand grabs your wrist before you can start, locking eyes with you His ragged breaths makehis chest rise and fall with an irregular rhythm, your other hand lifts to rest on his letting out a soft reassuring ''It'll be okay'' under your breath. You push the needle in, hearing him let out a deep hiss, throwing his head to the side, tensing up as you try to push through quickly.

He's struggling already. He's stoic but not that stoic. After cleaning it up, you can see he was right, the wound is not deep but it's still deep enough to warrant stitches. You'll never know how he drove here without causing an accident. His eyes squeeze shut but to his credit, he listens and does stay still as you work the needle through his skin, threading it back together, trying to mimic his movements from when he patched up his leg. 

 ''My uh- my cars been making a weird noise.'' you say suddenly, mentally scolding yourself for how stupid it sounds when it leaves your lips. You want to help him, distract him, fill the silence in the room only partly drowned out by the fan humming. After a beat of silence you think you might have actually lost him as you continue threading his skin back together, when he shifts and looks towards you. 

''What noise?'' he asks, hand clenching as it hangs to his side. You let out a sigh of relief, hoping he can see your  attempt to distract him, a relieved smile rests over your lips.

''A uh, sort of crunching sound'' you hum out, coming towards what you hope is the end of the stab wound. 

''When you brake?'' he huffs, eyes still fixed on you, watching you like you might disappear if he looks away. 

''Yeah'' you nod, pushing though with the needle one last time and tying off the thread and letting out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. Running a hand over your face, your head leans on his thigh, you try to catch your breath. You feel him relax, his shoulders slouching and his breathing coming out in heavy huffs. 

You push yourself off the floor, giving his clothed thigh a small kiss before moving towards the sink to rinse off the cloth. You bite your lip wringing out the cloth, your eyes keep falling back to him, a small knot forming in your stomach. Now that the likelihood of him bleeding out in your bathroom is less likely, your mind starts to wander, to possibilities you shouldn't allow it to. What if you weren't in tonight, what if you were working late or out with friends what would he have done then? Where would he have gon-

“Brake pads.'' he murmurs, your head whips over towards him, looking at you innocently. 

'Wwhat?'' you question, eyebrow drawing together, if you didn't know any better you'd guess he had interrupted your train of thoughts on purpose.  

''The sound in your car, you need new brake pads'' he grunted out, trying to push himself to sit up. Turning off the running water, you wring out the cloth as you walk over, push him and settle yourself between his legs again. 

''Maybe, when you're feeling better, you can show me how to fit them?'' you offer with a smile, as you start gently scrubbing the blood off the skin around the wound. He nods, although you know it will probably end up with you keeping him company as he fits them for you, talking you through the basics. He would nevertheless reassure you that if you ever have any car troubles, no matter what it is, he will be there. ending in him refusing to take any money off you, even though you try to sneak it to him when he's not looking, and it'll somehow always end up back in your bag or neatly placed on your bedside table. 

You reach over to your frankly under stocked first aid kit, grabbing the roll of bandages and placing a hand on his  shoulder ''Can you lean forward?'' you ask, breath fanning against his ear, he suppresses a shudder and pushes himself forward. You start wrapping them around his abdomen and mentally adding more bandages to your shopping list.You wonder how much of the bandage you're supposed to use, another thing to ask Driver when he's in a better shape. You end up using the whole roll, tying it off and quickly checking him over.

You start moving your hands off of him when he catches your wrist, softly tracing the back of your hand, slowly, achingly slowly. He moves it to his lips and gives it a lingering kiss. He moves it to his chests and squishes it. No words needed, you understand the gratitude in his eyes. He tries to lean forward, his head lining to yours, when a hiss leaves him. You chuckle and quickly move towards him, sparing him. Raising as you lean on your knees, you support yourself with the hand on your chest until you’re both face to face. The kiss starts softly, merely a peck, when the hand that was holding yours moves to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss.

You follow along, not wanting to push him when he's in such a state, but the look he's giving you between breaths makes your thighs clench together. Instintively, your hand begins to move downwards until it reaches his zipper. The small gasp he lets out brings you back from your thoughts.He looks down at you with half lidded eye, his hand gently resting over your cheek, fingers lacing your hair. You start palming him through his jeans as he lets out a soft little pant. He's already half hard. 

''You're such a freak,'' you say under your breath with a small smile, “almost dead five minutes ago and now he is excited." The blood he has lost doesn’t impede him from blushing, as he gives you a sheepish smile. You bring your other hand up to unbutton his jeans. His hand follows you down, never leaving  your cheek. You lean into it before turning to kiss his palm. 

''Let me do this for you'' you whisper, holding his gaze. His blue eyes stare at you, eyes roaming your face. You cock your head at him for a moment, giving him the opportunity to back out of this. A small nod is all you need to continue to unzip his jeans and help him shimmy out of them. 

His eyes are trained on you, you can feel them without even looking at him. The metal of his jeans clatters to the ground, your head dips, placing sloppy kisses on his thighs, your hand returning to palm his cock through his boxer. ''So pretty'' he mumbles, his hand moving to rest on your head as you move up kissing up towards his throbbing length.

You plant light kisses over him through the fabric while your hands smooth the skin of his thighs upwards, until they reach the waist band of his boxers, hooking your fingers around it. His hand moves again to your cheek and strokes it, his thumb ghosting over your lips parting them slightly. His eyes roam over your face, a hungry look in his eyes only half concealed but the exhaustion creeping up on him. It's after a minute his thumb tracing gently over your cheek, that you tug on the boxers again You sigh with an amused huff, ''Lift your hips so I can take these off” you nudge gently, taking his hand in your own and kissing his fingers, keeping your eyes on him. He pulls his hand away, you feel a small pout resting on your lips at the loss. He lifts his hips up with a small groan as his stomach tenses slightly, you reach your hands up pulling his boxers off, finally joining the jeans on the floor. 

Your fingers close around his length and as his cock twitches in your hand, he whines, eyes squeezed closed, as his chin hits his chest. His hips thrusting into your clenched fist. Your thumb runs over the tip of his cock, he stiffens up letting out a small groan. You hum at his reaction, a small satisfied smile resting on your lips. You start stroking him up and down, not wanting to tease him, not tonight, with what he's been through already tonight, you can save that for another time. 

He’s already close, between the adrenaline slowly tapering off and the blood loss, the fact he’s still conscious is a small miracle in itself. You keep pumping his cock in your hands as his hips push up to meet your fist, winching slightly. His jaw is clenched, eyes closed, soft whimpers and pleas leave his parted lips.

With a soft groan, he cums hard in your hands as he pants, warmth almost immediately coats your fingers. You continue stroking him, dragging out his orgasm as much as you can without completely wiping him out. His head falls back hitting the wall again and he breathes out gasps and slurred words. You lean over to grab tissue to wipe your hands but he stops you before you're able to, grabbing your wrist and bringing it up to his mouth. Licking your fingers, holding your eyes the entire time. “You’re such a menace”, even after almost bleeding out in your downstairs toilet he's absolutely insatiable. 

You push yourself up to kiss him again, tasting him on his lips. His hands come up threading through your hair pulling you in. His lips moved against yours, you groan when you feel his teeth sink into your bottom lip before you pull away. ''Let's get you to bed before you get into any more trouble'' you grin, your forehead leaning against his.

[mars-witchy]

i cannot stop thinking about driver and i need these thoughts to get out of my head

content: mostly fluff/yearning. some suggestive material i suppose. nothing explicit. this is my first fic in a while so please excuse me if this is terrible.

driver takes the same elevator, to the same floor, at the same time, everyday. he knows it’s supposed to be empty

but as he approaches the doors, someone new is inside? who is this person in his elevator? he’s tempted to slow his pace and wait for the next one

unfortunately for him, the nice lady in the elevator held her arm out to stop the doors from closing

you both awkwardly smile and you ask him which floor, coincidentally the same as yours

the ride up is silent, and since you both get home at odd hours of the night, the next several weeks are filled with semi-awkward elevator rides with drivers cute neighbor

you work nights at a hospital, so you often greet him at night with a warm smile, and soon he grows fond of your silent agreement for a moment of peace in the elevator

neither of you have said anything to each other, you both don’t force conversation and the mutual understanding to just enjoy the silence is nice

soon, he’s enamored with you and he doesn’t know how to go about it because you guys still haven’t even talked so what if he’s just making it up in his head

so driver takes things slow, little, small things that never really broke your routine quiet, but still make you smile

when the doors open, he’ll make an exaggerated gesture as if to say, “ladies first” it always makes you smile

he’ll wordlessly point at the mess on your scrubs with a teasing quirk of his eyebrow and you respond with a faux offended look and he smiles softly before turning back to look at the doors

there’s one night you’re not working, but unfortunately still awake due to your horrible sleep schedule so you spend it working on some laundry

it’s about 2am and you’re carrying a much too large load of laundry from the communal washer/dryer back to your apartment. just to your luck, your elevator buddy is already waiting outside the doors as the old metal clanks its way down. you were halfway across the lobby as the door opens and he steps inside, a slight look of surprise as he sees you making your way to him. his expression changes to one of fondness as you smile and slip past him inside the small box.

with a huff, you set the heavy basket on the ground and look up to see driver choosing to lean against the hand rail on the side wall, instead of his normal spot facing the doors. suddenly you’re very aware of your appearance; your hair thrown up without looking in the mirror, and choosing a black tank top and a pair of dark blue, fuzzy pajama pants with penguins on them. and driver is staring at you with this smile that makes you very aware of the typical silence, while playing with the toothpick hanging over his lips. he often forgets how intimate eye contact can be. so the elevator ride is filled with silent conversation, choosing to make eyes at each other— driver feels his heart soar at the blush that creeps on your cheeks.

you break the eye contact first as the elevator dings and the doors creek open, and driver grins wide like you haven’t seen, teeth showing, like he’s won some secret game. before you have the chance to reach for your basket, driver already has it lifted off the ground and into his hands. for the first time ever, you break the silence, almost a whisper, “oh no that’s okay…” your voice is so much sweeter than he expected.

driver shakes his head, and only gestures towards the opening like he always does. you smile at him and lead the way to your apartment and he can see your fingers shake as you unlock the door. driver doesn’t overstay his welcome, just places the basket where you tell him. when you thank him, he looks back at you with that same— almost teasing— expression from the elevator, and you hold his gaze for a bit. this time he’s the first to look away as he nods and makes his way back to his apartment. Driver leaves you with a gentle, “goodnight.” he lingers in the doorway waiting for you to say it back; he has to pull himself together to stop from cheesing when you do. the door closes with a soft click and driver spends the rest of the night replaying those 10 minutes in his head.

the next morning, driver is almost startled by a gentle, but hurried knock at his door. driver never has visitors. cautiously, he peeks through the peep hole. he breathes out in relief when he sees you standing outside while nervously pacing. he opens the door and you have the look of a scared animal— like you weren’t expecting driver to open the door after knocking on his door.

“hi…” you say, twiddling with your thumbs like you’re nervous about something. he gives you a curious look, “hi..?”

“ummm are you- how good are you with handy stuff?” driver lifts an eyebrow, “like fixing things? somethings wrong with my car, i’m not really sure it just won’t turn on.” drivers expression softens— even if he had never touched a car in his life, he’d figure it out if you asked him to fix it.

needless to say he offers to give you rides while your car is in the shop, his shop ofc

and this begins your odd cycle of him basically acting like your boyfriend. he never acts like he expects anything from you, but also never chooses to put a label on it

always opens the car door, no room to talk, it’s already opened before you can get close enough

you spend a lot of free time together, especially before/after work, sometimes chatting, sometimes not— it just depends on your mood

he offers to help cook meals— and it’s good— even replaces the groceries he uses for the meal as well

on occasion he’ll order food if you’re both feeling tired

and then he has these blue puppy dog eyes that look at you with so much longing and care

and warm, shaky hands that occasionally gain enough courage to find their way into your own

sometimes on the couch during a show— with one arm slung over the back and you almost tucked into his side— he reaches his free hand out to intertwine with your fingers

or sometimes when he’s driving, his arm lays across the middle console, with your hands joined in your lap, and he’ll trace patterns with his thumb or tap along to the music

and like you guys know that you have feelings for each other, but it’s this game of cat and mouse and he loves the chase

i don’t he’s like full stalker mode, but i’d imagine he keeps closer tabs on you than you realize

he just has an insatiable need to be in control of everything all the time so he needs to be one step ahead incase something were to happen

he wants to drive you to and from work, but sometimes it’s just not practical for either of you or you insist on driving yourself (which he’s made clear he doesn’t like that)

as your relationship grows, he takes you on various dates (he never calls them that) to nice dinners, museums, movie nights, etc

but his favorite is driving you around (duhh)

it’s the perfect scenario in his head,it’s intimate, and the street lights give amazing mood lighting. he’s comfortable like this and feels confident enough to show off a little

he will NEVER admit it, but he does flex his hands and arms a little bit more when you’re in the car

you had a particularly rough shift, and it was about 4am when you got home. driver, also being a vampire, could hear the elevator open and you dragging your feet to your door. he moves quickly to his door, waiting a beat to not make it seem like he was listening for you.

before you can get your keys in the handle, the gentle click and pull of another door gets your attention. you turn and watch with baggy eyes as driver slips out of his apartment, smiling at you as he approaches. “hi..” you mumble and he returns the greeting, “have you slept?” you ask, noticing the bags that also settle under his eyes. he shakes his head ‘no’ and you nod, “same.”

a beat. “do you wanna go for a drive?” you turn to look at driver and even though you can hear your bed whispering your name, the look of anticipation on his face is enough for you to agree.

the air is cold as it blows through the windows and you’ve got your arm folded over yourself, staring as the street lights race by. the wind feels amazing on your warm, tired eyes and you can feel some of your stress blow away with it. your seat is leaned back slightly past normal for you to stretch and you roll your head to the side to look at driver.

he’s got one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the shift. the wind has messed up his normally tamed hair and the orange lights that shoot through the window gives him a handsome glow. driver can feel you staring and he tries to seem cool about it. he subtly stretches and flexes his gloved fingers around the gear shift, exaggerating the slight flex of his arm with the action. he hopes you don’t notice the effort and if you do, you don’t say anything. driver gets too nervous to look your way, afraid you’d call him out for the display.

he can see your head turned towards him out of the corner of his eye and soon enough he gets the courage to look your way. expecting to see you giving him a teasing smile and laugh at his actions, he’s shocked to find your eyes closed and head slumped on your shoulder.

driver rolls up the windows and reaches his hand over to smooth your hair down. he drives carefully the rest of the way home, hand only leaving you if necessary. it was still dark outside when he woke you up, and he was kneeled outside the passenger side, gently shaking your leg to wake you. “c’mon, lets get you to bed,” his voice is gentle and quiet.

unfortunately for him, you had just finished the worst double of your life and sleep burned through your eyes, searing at the cold air. you couldn’t keep them open if you tried, and boy were you trying. driver chuckles as you mumble something along the lines of “i’ll be in soon..” and you don’t know if he responds, but you can feel him gently snaking an arm under your legs, the other coming around your back. with surprising ease, he carries you out of the vehicle and cradles you inside. his arms are burning by the time the elevator crawls to your shared floor, but it’s worth it to see you all curled up into him. his heart aches in a way that only pulls him further into your orbit.

all good things must come to an end because soon he’s whispering in your ear that he needs to set you down to unlock your door. your hand still stays on his shoulder as your other comes to rub your eyes while you yawn. driver still has his left arm tight around your waist while he turns the key. you can feel your head falling back down to his shoulder before shooting back up as the door opens and he’s gently pulling you inside. driver tries to walk how your linked now, but the height difference and slow stumbles from you only make it awkward. so he opts to just lean down and pick you back up, once again carrying you bridal style to your bed.

he pulls the covers over your pajamas, hoping if he takes long enough to settle you into bed, you might stir awake enough to ask him to stay. much to his dismay, it never happens, but he isn’t complaining about getting some uninterrupted time to just stare at you. you’re curled up on your side, and driver is sitting on his knees on the side of the bed. his head rest on his folded arms on the plush mattress to look at you up close. his nose is only an inch or so away from yours and he can see every little detail, freckle, mole up close and personal. he’s sure you’d be terrified if you woke up with him this close, but he still pushes it just a little more as he gently slides his hand across the bed. his pinkie barely grazes the side of your hand, as if he was testing the waters, before loosely linking with yours. he just couldn’t help himself, his heart and body longed to join your side, but he’s not sure if you’d want that and he doesn’t want to ruin what you have. so he allows himself just this simple pleasure of feeling the smallest amount of your touch. only if to pretend he was laying next to you.

he takes his cue to leave the third time he has to jolt awake. body aching as he pulls himself to his feet, he tucks you in one last time before turning off your lights. the sun is beginning to peek through his blinds as driver finally lays in his own bed and he falls asleep thinking about holding you.

yeah he lets you know soon after that how much he wants you

when it comes to touch, i hc him also having touch aversion like lars so he’s always wearing his gloves because he the thought of touching things with his bare hands sometimes makes his skin crawl

which is also why you get stuck in this weird limbo of ‘this has got to be more than friends’ and ‘oh god he does not like me in that way at all’

sometimes he’s smiling and cracking a few jokes with his hand resting on your low back as he guides you back to your home

and other times he’s sitting on the complete opposite end of the couch and hasn’t spoken to or even really acknowledged you in the past 4 hours or so

most days the jacket or long sleeves and gloves combo is enough to make physical contact but some days it’s just too much

selective mute!driver anyone??? anyone at all??

he still enjoys your company and likes to listen to you speak on these days

driver does his best to be extra attentive with his body language, he cares about what you’re saying even if he isn’t verbally responding and he tries his best to show that

he makes sure to turn towards you when you speak (if he can), lots of eye contact, nodding, smiling, he’s not very expressive but he does his best to react to your stories

a lot of people are weirded out by his lack of responses, often times leading to lots of awkward silence

but he feels like you understand him, you acknowledge when he’s listening without responding and continue speaking, or join him in comfortable silence

the hardest hill for him to climb is the touch aversion, he wants to touch you, imagines what your skin feels like against his

but he’s never really cared for that feeling with anyone else, usually finding some people feel hot and sticky, or they’re clammy and cold

either way he is not a huge fan of anything sweaty, sticky, tacky— like that feeling when bare skin has been pressed against bare skin for far too long and it’s warm and clings to each other as it separates

not a huge fan of that at all, and unfortunately that’s what most people feel like, especially in the warm confines of LA

also why he wears long sleeves and pants all the time— he cannot stand when his bare skin touches for too long

but in his fantasies you feel so soft, so inviting and he’s dying to know how you really felt

often times you two settle on the couch, with his arm around your shoulders, so one day he tests the waters and leaves his gloves in his pocket

you hadn’t even noticed the missing layer at first, not until he snaked his arm around your shoulders and his fingertips gently trace patterns on your arm

he’s a little surprised by how much he enjoys it, and the lack of distain at the feeling of goosebumps rising to your skin

his heart is beating so heavy in his chest and he almost feels breathless but he’s trying to keep his composure

the anxiety makes driver want to vomit, and it spikes as you reach a hand out to grab his other

his skin tingles as your fingers play with his own and it makes a shiver run up his spine

the feeling of goosebumps makes his anxiety worse so he just wraps his hand over yours to hold you still

he blinks rapidly to ground himself a little and eventually he settles in and relaxes into you as his anxiety dwindles

after some time, he begins to reach out for you— finding your hand while he drives, hugging you after you had a bad day, pulling you into his side on the couch

as he grows comfortable with you, he’s realizing he wants more and more

he wants to know what the more sensitive parts feel like, he wants to feel your stomach, hips, the inside of your thighs, your lips—

he’s just gonna have to get the courage to do something about it and when he does, it’s when he’s dropping you off at your place, lingering inside the door way in hopes you’ll invite him to stay

you’re setting your things down and he can’t help but watch as you walk away, staring at the curve of your hips, over your ass and down your legs. his mouth waters at the way your yoga pants cling tight to your thighs and he has to look away when you bend down to pet your cat. he clenches and unclenches his fists in his pockets, silently cursing himself for the lack of comfort from his usual gloves. he could feel the clamminess of his palms and it makes him grossly aware of his skin being too tight.

driver had planned tonight, he wanted to touch you, kiss you. he wanted to feel your bare skin on his, but it made him anxious thinking about the vulnerability of it. after deciding that the risk was worth the reward, he decided to leave the gloves at home. a decision he was now regretting, wishing for the safety the gloves bring him from the rest of the world.

he was brought out of his thoughts when your cat purred against his leg, a gentle meow catching his attention. he smiles down at her and leans down to give her a few pets. he was never really fond of animals before you, but he was beginning to understand the appeal of cats. often times he found himself relating more to your furry companion than most people he knows.

driver stands back up to look fully at you, smiling as he catches you staring. you smile back just as soft and he feels the achy strings of his heart pull towards you. there was a couple steps of distance and he stops when you’re almost toe to toe.

“i was hoping,” his voice is soft as always, “we could go out again soon? you know like an actual date?” his voice drops almost to a whisper at that last sentence, avoiding your eyes like the plague. choosing to stare at his shoes instead as his fists clenched tight inside his pockets. you grin so wide your cheeks hurt and there’s a playful sparkle in your eyes as you look at him.

it’s not until you speak that he looks back up at you, “i think we can work that out.” your tone is playful but he looks at you with all the hope and wonder in the world. his lips twitch into a smile and before he can even realize, he’s shuffling closer, his feet on either side of yours as he towers over you. driver has to hunch over to get his face closer to yours and his lips hover for just a second before kissing you.

driver’s lips are soft and wet as they slot against yours. his tall frame crowds over you while his hips sway to gently turn you and usher you to lean against the counter. you gasp as your back hits the cold ledge and you grab onto it to steady yourself. much to your dismay, he pulls back to look at you but you don’t let him get far before catching his lips with yours again. driver lets out a quiet noise in surprise at your actions and presses his torso and hips closer to yours. he kisses you back with just as much passion, his lips gently sucking in your bottom lip. he breathes into your mouth as he lets it go, and the tip of the tongue pokes out ever so slightly to run across your bottom lip. your hands come to his waist, holding onto the zipper of his silk jacket while he sucks on your lip again.

his body is hot against yours and his head feels dizzy from your chest pressing against his. his brows furrow as he kisses you harder, tongue now coming out to drag along your own. the feeling of the wet muscles dancing together making him pant into your mouth. he’s practically drooling down your chin at this point and it feels so good but your lungs are screaming for a real breath.

you pull away just a bit, your chest rapidly rising and falling when you opened your eyes. drivers were still closed, but only for a moment. once his eyes caught sight of the trail of drool connecting your lips, he pulls a hand from his pocket to find the back of your neck. his hand was warm as it tangled in your hair and he pulls you back into a desperate, breath taking kiss. soon enough, his left hand slips from his pocket and his fingers gently touch your waist before his hand settles on your low back. at the spot where your back curves into your ass.

driver is dying to know how your flesh feels against him, if it burns like it does with everyone else. he decides to take a leap and slip his hand under your shirt, carefully touching you with just his fingertips, like your flesh would burn him. instead it makes his abdomen twitch as electricity spreads through his body. it’s addicting and soon his hand is splayed against your low back. his fingers mindlessly trace and play with the dimples just above the curve of your ass and it makes shivers go up your back and down your arms.

he’s still kissing you with so much passion that you cant think straight. your hands travel up his torso and finally push against his chest. you’re breathless as you ask, “do you want to stay the night?”

[binchidavinci]

Could you write some prevy noah calhoun headcannons?

Writing these as vignettes bc I'm a yapper and he's defo into public sex UGH

Pervert

(Noah Calhoun x reader)

Rowboat The lake was calm and golden as the sun dipped low. Noah rowed slowly, seeming to enjoy the view of you more than the lake: his eyes had hardly left your figure, but you were used to his quiet appreciation by now. You sat across from him in a cotton skirt, the hem riding up your thighs, head thrown back enjoying the sun on your skin. His voice cut through the silence suddenly. “Hmmm... spread your legs a little,” he murmured, continuing to row like he'd said nothing out of the ordinary. "Noah!" you exclaimed, smacking his arm lightly. He grinned, eyes leaving yours to scan the shore: anyone still on the banks could see the two of you easily. Still, Noah’s eyes darkened as he returned his gaze to watch the way the fabric shifted between your thighs. “God, I can see the outline of your panties,” he groaned quietly. He adjusted himself in his trousers, breaking rhythm with the oars as you clamped your thighs together to hide his view. "Get us back to shore and I'll think about it," you smiled into the sun.

Town You were walking through town, wearing a cool sundress that soothed the hot weather perfectly. It was innocent and perfectly decent, going well below your knees, but nothing was innocent with Noah Calhoun around: he stayed half a step behind you, eyes glued to your ass as you chatted away. When you realised he was no longer right next to you, you spun around. "Come on, Noah, what're you doing?" He tore his eyes away from your lower half— ruefully— and caught up with you in one quick stride, wrapping a strong hand around your waist. “M'sorry,” he whispered against your ear as you passed a store. “Got distracted by the view." He grinned against your temple and pressed a quick peck against the side of your head as he pulled your tighter against his side. "Now what was you sayin', baby?" You rolled your eyes, certain he wouldn't be listening this time, either, now he could see down the front of your dress.

Fair The streets were loud and crowded, neon lights flashing everywhere you looked; the summer fair had once again taken over the town square, but you hadn't even managed one ride before Noah pulled you behind one of the game tents into a narrow alley between two stalls. He pulled you along by your hand, then, once he found a spot adequately hidden from view, he dropped to his knees in the dirt and bunched your skirt up around your waist.

“Hold it up,” he ordered, voice thick as his eyes bore into you. Before you could even get a good grasp on the fabric, his mouth was on you, hot and desperate over your panties. He sucked on the cotton, tongue pressing hard against your clit through the fabric while people laughed and shouted just a few feet away. You couldn't help the gasp that left you as your knees weakened; you would've buckled then and there save for his hands roughly bracing your waist against the wall. “Quiet, sweetheart,” he growled against your now-soaked panties, eyes looking up at you wickedly. “Don’t want anyone to see what you're doing, do you?" Without waiting for a reply, he hooked one finger into the side of your panties, pulled the lace aside and buried his tongue inside you, groaning like a starving man.

Dinner You were at a table with Noah’s work friends, fellow sawmill workers, and a few contractors. You were hoping to make a good impression for the sake of him getting more work, but Noah was not making this easy. Noah’s hand had been on your thigh for twenty minutes; now his fingers were slowly rubbing you over your panties, pressing the damp fabric against your clit in lazy circles. He kept talking casually about stupid lumber prices, voice perfectly steady whilst his fingers moved faster. He feigned leaning over to peck you on your temple as someone else spoke, before whispering into your hair. “Feel that?", two fingers stroking firmly over the soaked cotton. “Making such a mess, sweetheart. Keep your legs open for me.” You nodded solemnly and furrowed your eyebrows, as if he'd just told you something perfectly innocent, and pretended to take another sip of wine to prevent yourself from moaning. You bit your lip hard as he slipped a finger under the edge of your panties, teasing your entrance while smiling at the man across the table.

Dock The old wooden dock creaked softly under you. It was late, approaching early morning, but a few boats drifted in the distance. You couldn't have cared less about them, though: Noah had you straddling his lap, your dress bunched around your waist, as he buried himself to the hilt inside of you as he guided your hips in slow, deep rolls that made your eyelids heavy with pleasure and a blush creep across your cheeks.

“See those boats, hmm?” he breathed against your hair, thrusting up into you and forcing your nails to dig into his shoulder. "Y-yeah," you managed when he squeezed your ass harshly. “Yeah? They might see us. Might see how pretty you look riding my cock. You don't care? Mm? Answer me.” He gripped your thighs harder, spreading you open as he fucked you. "Nnngh—" You couldn't get a reply out: you let your head fall forward onto his shoulder as he thrust upward, groaning an incoherent response. “S'ok. Let ‘em hear you. I want everyone to know exactly who this pussy belongs to.”

Home You had dropped in to see Noah, to check how things were going with the new house that Noah was building so that you could live there, together. The second floor was still under renovation, with beautiful, arched Georgian windows dominating the front room; curtains and blinds were yet to be put up at this stage of construction. Early evening light poured in through the huge windows as Noah fucked you from behind, your sweaty hand pressed hard against the pane. Anyone walking the dirt road below could look up and see everything; even though the road was rarely frequented, you couldn't help but feel a little exposed.

Noah kept one hand fisted in your hair and the other gripping your hip, pounding into you hard enough that your chest and the side of your face pressed against the window. "That’s it,” he groaned, accent strong with lust. He yanked on your hair, forcing your back to arch even further against him. “Feel good? You like your new house, baby?” He reached around to rub your clit, sending your eyes rolling back into your head as he picked up the pace. "Yeah— yes, Noah," you managed, knees buckling below you: his grip around your waist and in your hair was strong enough to keep you up-right. "Yes what?" he cooed, slowing his pace torturously. "Yes, I love the new house... p—please!" you cried out “That's nice baby. M'gonna fill you up right here in your new bedroom."

[phantomb0ner]

Gosling Characters- Diving in the rain headcannons.

Colt,Driver,Holland,Ryland,Henry,Lars,and Richard.

Have it.

Colt Seavers- is cautious but relaxed, he's still got the music going and is singing but is driving a little bit safer than normal. Is neutral on diving in the rain, it's just something that happens. Enjoys storms so he has no problem going out while it's coming down. He'd love to be a passenger princess while it's raining, you look over and he's so relaxed just talking about some that's on his mind with his eyes closed and seat leant back.

Driver/Casey- is his normal self. Drives impeccabley as always but is ultra locked in. The radio is on and you can be as rowdy as you want but he's both hands on the wheel taking it seriously. Doesn't prefer to drive in the rain but enjoys driving enough he'll go out if he has to. Doesn't like the rain much in general so he prefers to stay inside or stay inside the parked car and just hang out there till it eases up.

Holland March- Do not let him in that car when it's raining. He loves the rain for it's dramatic element and it helps him sleep so he's more than happy to drive in it. But he's barely capable of driving a car any other time, he'll try to convince you to relax and let him but DONT LISTEN HE WILL RECK THE CAR!! He can't fucking see through it or see the lines or OTHER CARS. Just let him sit passenger princess and he'll be asleep in maybe 10 minutes. It's easier for everyone, especially holly.

Ryland Grace- Given that he doesn't drive. He enjoys the rain but in the comfort of his own home where it can't get on him or fight against him. He would invest in one of those hardcore rain jackets and hope that if he gets there quick enough he'll survive. I don't think he'd mind much if your driving but he's turning the music down and letting you focus on driving to be cautious.

Henry Letham- we're not considering post accident. Pre accident though, he's an average driver. He doesn't like driving in heavy rain so he'll opt for the train or bus but he'll drive in light rain if he has to. He's a little bit worse of a driving in the rain but not in a dangerous way. He is cracking the window to smoke a cigarette though so be warned. He like rain a lot otherwise though he likes the sensations of it on his skin so he doesn't ever use an umbrella unless he dressed up for something but even then he might not. Opens the windows in his apartment to hear the rain if it's not to cold.

Lars Lindstrom- He doesn't drive in the rain if doesn't ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO. He doesn't like being in the rain so the worst part is the walk from car to building. He doesn't like how nerve-wracking driving in the rain can be either so he much prefers to stay inside. He a floor length rain coat and a large umbrella that stays in his car just in case. Again doesn't like rain touching him so even if you're driving he'd prefer to stay home. Thinks the rains nice when he's inside but thunder puts him on edge so doesn't like storms much. If it's lightly raining and it's cosy enough inside he'll start to nod off way before bedtime it's very sweet.

….Richard Haywood.- Another case of don't let him drive. He's a irresponsible driver already he TERRIBLE in the rain. Treats driving the exact same so he's making turn so fucking fast you damn near spin out. Doesn't even blink an eye at the rain so he'll drive if he wants too. Just put him in the back and let him talk. How he hasn't recked his car is a mystery held together by teenage determination and ignorance. He's not allowed to ride passenger if your driving though cause he'll start rolling his window down and fucking with the music and touch your face and shit. IN THE BACK WITH YOU. CHILD SAFETY LOCKS ON.

 

 me in the flash flood.

[rentsturner]

yea so i neeeeeed more dom!ryland like right neow pleease & thank you

or maybe your thoughts on driver or colt? i love that everyone pretty much gives driver the steely cold silence with the “you better behave” vibes and then colt is like the total opposite with how much noise he makes (still dom tho) and they both give the best, sweetest aftercare

NSFW thoughts for dom!Colt and dom!Driver below!!! enjoy

Colt would be a very very good soft dom. He can still be a little stern sometimes of course, but he's very much an emotional dom, he checks on you with traffic colours CONSTANTLY, he's the best ever at aftercare, and he's generous with his words and petnames.

Colt is very open minded. it's not that he steers away from darker kinks with you, he just navigates them with a lot of care and tenderness

he checks in often during scenes, his voice switching to a low gentle one whenever he's whispering 'colour?' in your ear

really really good at knots. knows exactly where to position the tension so that the ropes hurt but don't rub, knows how to make them secure but easily undoable if you safe word.

also loves using movie props in scenes,,, guns, blunted knives, glass that smashes easily. he's so down for that, as long as you are

cups your head and helps you sip some water mid scene - will never let you get dehydrated, no matter how much you squirt

very very sweet afterwards. holding you to his chest, yapping about his day until you fall asleep, stroking your hair and putting balm on any injuries you have

Driver on the other hand is a lot quieter.

initially when you meet driver, you think he's the more stern type.

especially because he barely says anything to you, he's so quiet you almost think that he hates you

but the more you get to know him, the more you realise his body talks for him. the twitch of his brow that means he's curious, the subtle flick of his finger when he wants you to say something, the blink that means yes, and the shake of his head that means no. it's like a little code that you figure out over time

plus he does talk, of course he does. his dirty talk is actually...second to none. the man probably opens his mouth the most in the bedroom

can be a little stern sometimes... or not stern so much that he just has a short temper. if you even look at another man, that can really get to him, and you can tell by the tick of his jaw

also the gloves stay ON. spanking with those leather gloves? yeah, you both fucking love it, and the marks they leave

driver is also very very attentive. living in the silence, he thrives off small details

he knows when you're about to come purely from the pitch of your whimper and the furrow of your brow

equally, he knows when it's too much, so much so that you've only had to safeword once - driver always seems to know your limits better than you know them yourself

very good with aftercare. again, he's pretty quiet at points but will ALWAYS check in with you at least once verbally after

[lovetals]

tipping culture

aka: the aftermath of you explaining to rocky about the concept of “tipping” people

deets: gn! reader, they’re up in space, praying i didn’t get any eridian culture wrong, was written with romantic intent but could honestly be platonic so up to you!

this is a little self-indulgent cause i wrote this after a bad day at work, so 90% of it is word vomit, if you see any grammar/spelling mistakes plz tell me <3

there was a missing screw that needed to be replaced. well, it wasn’t really missing, but it was definitely gone forever now in space. with grace only having two arms it made sense he couldn’t catch the screw he just loosened. luckily, the newest crew member was able to recreate it with ease.

when grace had returned from outside he made sure to thank rocky.

”would grace say rocky was helpful, question?”

“absolutely,” grace replied, taking off his space suit. you’re seated nearby with your eye looking through the microscope, barely paying attention.

“so grace is happy with rocky’s service, question?”

“of course, bud.”

“grace is satisfied then, question?”

this grabs your attention. you move your head back from the microscope, raising a brow. rocky’s questions were a little odd, but grace doesn’t seem to notice and is more focused on putting the suit away so that he doesn’t make the room messy again.

“extremely satisfied.”

“good, good! then please leave rocky a tip!”

“wait, what?”

you both finally look at rocky. with his carapace tilted upwards, rocky has one of his hands outstretched, seemingly waiting for his “tip”.

“a tip! when humans provide good service they are usually given a reward!”

“i—where’d you learn about that??”

“from (name)!”

grace directed his confused look towards you now.

“… i did talk to him about being a barista one time,” you sheepishly smile.

“yes, (name) did! was very educational! made rocky wish to participate, too.” he tapped his “fingers” together as a reminder. “tip, please!”

“wow. you’re, uh, kinda putting me on the spot here. you know, tipping is usually done with cash and we don’t really have any—“

“is ok! rocky will accept any item as a tip.” his arm stretched out further, eagerly waiting.

out of excuses, grace turned to you. “help?”

you giggle. “i think rocky just wants a reward for helping us.”

looking around the room for something, your eyes catch onto the whiteboard that’s behind the desk you were working at and notice one of the magnets attached to the board. you grab it and hand it out to the eridian, your arm and his stretching out further so that it transfers through his ball.

“here you go: for a job well done.”

rocky let out a trill, something equivalent to a laugh that you both decided to not translate (it was nicer to hear the melody rather than the robotic voice go “ha ha ha”).

“(name) is rocky’s favorite human! grace is not. rocky will spit in grace’s food as revenge.”

“huh?!”

you burst out laughing at rocky’s words, but you’re practically keeling over in your seat because of grace’s reaction.

“i told him that we’d sometimes joke about spitting or sneezing in our customers orders if they made us upset.”

“he knows you were joking, right?!”

“he just learned about knock knock jokes, give him a few days. besides,” you manage to calm down enough, still grinning widely at grace, “eridians don’t leak; you’ll be fine.”

“i guess…”

grace fixes his glasses, seemingly having calmed down now that he knows he’s safe until—

“rocky will find a way to make spit.”

you laugh again while grace groans loudly.

[keyfili]

RYAN GOSLING filmography 6/? RICHARD HAYWOOD in MURDER BY NUMBERS 2002 • dir. Barbet Schroeder

[finnestra]

Some ryan gosling character charts because you truly can't have too many.

[supernovaa-sn]

𝘊𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

I’ve recently started reading The Gray Man book series after watching the movie! I’m only on the first book but I need to get my thoughts out of my head and in to yours + I promise my next fic will be long form and not head cannons, mwah! (These turned out longer than I originally intended oops)

Sfw

⤷ you and Court got married a few years ago, a very small ceremony, it was off the books, the last thing he wants is something to happen to you to get to him. You both have rings, he takes him off on missions but puts it back on as soon as he’s done, it’s part of his routine when he comes back, parking Sierra Six at the door and coming back to you as Court.

⤷ you live in the country side on the outskirts, you’ve had to move a few times bit this is far enough out that you rarely get disturbed. The closest town is a thirty minute drive, it’s idyllic, it’s populated by mostly elderly people who have either live there all there lives or moved a few years ago to settle down.

⤷Court will fix everything in the house. “No, you don’t need to call anyone, I’ve got it” cut to him still sat trying to fix the bathroom sink a day and a half later because this man refuses to read an instruction manual. It comes to a point where you hope things break while he’s away so you can call a professional, just so he doesn’t stress himself out over it.

⤷you guys have a dog together, he didn’t want an animal, before this you both moved around a lot due to Courts job and even now you know that you might have to up and move at the drop of a hat. Due to that you both agreed pretty early on that it just wouldn’t be reasonable, but the last house you lived in got broken in to and although you got away with only a few cuts and bruises, Court never really did feel comfortable leaving you after that, of course he always knew it was a possibility but after it happened it shook him a bit. This lead to him coming home one day with a German shepherd puppy. From the day Court brought her home she was practically attached to your hip, she is unassuming enough that she passes as a pet, but she’s knows what she’s doing, she growls at Court if he comes home too late at night and she can’t figure out that it’s him in the dark.

⤷Court actually hates driving( kind of canonical from the books) one of the few things he doesn’t like about being out in the middle of nowhere is the lack of public transport, the closest thing you have is a bus stop that’s a 20 minute walk away. The busses come three times a day and if you miss it that’s it, Court knows all to well after having to call you to come and pick him up after missing it. you pull up to him stood looking sorry for himself holding your food shop in bags that looked like they where on the verge of breaking. And don’t get it wrong, he can drive, he’s just not particularly very good at it.

⤷genuinely worships the ground you walk on, he knows how much you’ve given up for him stability, a present partner, a place to call home for more than a few years, your family and friend, someone who can say with certainty if they are going to be in the country for more than a few days at a time. But whenever he brings it up you shush him, brush his hair softly off his forehead and give him a soft kiss, you know what you signed up for with him and wouldn’t change him for the world, well maybe you would give him more days off.

nsfw

⤷I don’t think he has a whole lot of experience, he went to prison at fifteen and was recruited at twenty three. So I think he’s had a sex maybe a handful of times before you two get together.

⤷would say he would talk you through it as is the type but with his lack of experience you’re are going to be the one talking him through it at the beginning. He trusts you, the relationship you guys made was forged on trust, and trust is a huge thing for Court as he’s only ever really had a handful of people in his life he he can truly trust.

⤷is generally pretty quiet when you two are have sex, grunts and groans along with a few whispered “good girl” or a gentle “that’s it”. But when you’re giving him oral? He can’t shut up, he’s moaning, soft chants of your name along with “please” and “don’t stop”. If you had neighbours you’d be worried about noise complaints because boy is he loud.

⤷ really quite gentle and attentive during sex, he doesn’t want to hurt you, he knows his own strength. He’s expected to be rough, hard and ruthless during work but with you? He would never dream of hurting you. but if you ask very nicely he might put his big hands around your neck

⤷ extremely touchy and clingy when he gets back from being away for a long mission, wants to spend meaningful time with you, snuggle together on the sofa and go for walks, but on the other hand m, he doesn’t know when he’s going to be shipped off again and he needs to be in between your thighs and deep inside right now and preferably in that order, but honestly hes not fussy.

⤷ absolute munch btw also, spends more time between your legs than he does behind the wheel of a car. And because you guys have been together for so long he knows exactly what he’s doing, can and will stay between your thighs for hours.

[emptyingthespiral]

Giving rygo characters cats or dogs bc yes and bc i say fuck canon, i have free will

Six - dog, claire would beg him and he’d cave and they would both end up spoiling the ever loving shit out of the dog

Ryland - uhhh i feel like he would have a class pet (after a student tells him to spice up the classroom more) so it would probably be a turtle or fish or smth

Colt - jean claude… so dog

Lars - i stand by him having a ferret… idk why but like… it feels right?

K - dog… because Deckard has a dog and its kinda hard to find animals on world or just.. in general

Driver - either… but im leaning towards a dog that would hang its head out the window and would just be having the time of its life

Julian - cat, quiet animal that reminds him to take care of said cat (and himself) while also giving him a companion 

Seb - cat, specifically a cat that is everywhere he doesnt want it to be, like he’s tryna practice piano in his apartment and the cat is on the piano keys… however the cat is his bars favorite patron

Henry - dog, another animal that forces him to take care of himself and actually get out of his apartment (plus something he can lean on bc there is no way he would be getting out of a near death accident scott free)

Noah - cat, a cat that actually likes him and wouldnt be the bane of his existence, plus i feel like he would make it a cat stand or just items for the cat (can you tell i dont have one)

Jacob - cat… tbh i dont really know, but i feel like he would have a cat that only acknowledges his existence when the cat is hungry

Luke - dog…? I feel like his focus would be on his kid… but i also feel like he might get a pet for his kid to bond with… 🤷

Ken - barbie (dream house) canonically has a dog, a cat, and a horse… so its more of ‘what animal does barbie not have’

March - they have fish because healy and holly wanted them and bc holland ‘no animals in the house’ march said it was fine (they were gonna get a fish anyways)

Have not watched united states of leland or murder by numbers… so yea

Fuck. Tagging is gonna be a BITCH

[fleursial]

Do you want shadows on my hands or you want them to be... pure?

[rotteninspace]

sierra six / courtland gentry headcanons

courtland gentry x gn!reader

a/n : I actually watched the gray man years ago for ana de armas and fell in love w court so this is technically round two of my ryan gosling obsession (also I refuse to read the books.. sorry…)

summary : some sfw and nsfw hcs about our favorite number

huge oral fixation- this one’s pretty much canon… with him and his gum/his toothpick during the first scene

not afraid to make other people uncomfortable AND make them sit in that discomfort.. god forbid he gets jealous. he’s subtle when he needs to be and he is not subtle when someone is trying to flirt w you

lots of casual pda- holds your hand in crowds, puts a hand on your thigh when you sit next to him

kisses before leaving/going anywhere are mandatory!! it doesn’t matter if he’s just going outside to take out the trash- he needs to kiss your forehead or cheek or lips to say ‘hey! I’m leaving but I’ll be back!’

gets very quiet and distant when he gets angry at you or claire. immediately backs off when claire gets mad at him and says that he’s not her dad.

is not good with apologies- will buy claire new records and leave them in her room after they fight. will do small chores for you (wake up early to make breakfast, refilling soap bottles- little things like that) after you two fight.

is surprisingly good at fixing things around the house

extremely protective. double checks locks. glares at and takes note of anyone who stares for too long.

^if something’s wrong with you or claire he just. will not sleep. mostly to look after either of you but also because he knows he’ll probably have a nightmare if he does go to sleep

not a crier. not at sad movies or books or anything. gets mad before/rather than sad.

one of his favorite things to do is sit in claire’s room with her and you- and just listen to records

also loves a movie night in (with ice cream ofc)- which is usually how afternoons on days claire has checkups/treatment go

^his go to is mint chocolate chip but he also likes bubblegum or regular chocolate

doesn’t like scary movies though (makes him nervous about claire’s heart)

one time claire fell asleep on the couch after a long movie so court carried her to bed.. then came back to see you all tired and carried you to bed too :)

he gets a tattoo for you and claire once you’re all safe n settled down somewhere quiet (I’m thinkin maybe both of your birthdays in roman numerals on the back of his upper arm above his elbows? maybe something from an inside joke between the three of you? is also down to get matching tattoos with you)

sleeps on the side closest to the door. can only fall asleep once he’s put claire to bed/knows you and her are asleep and has to be touching you (it could be just a hand on your waist or him spooning you)

keeps a knife tucked into the mattress frame of the bed and a gun in the drawer of the bedside table

has sensory issues that he does not give a fuck about. like no he does NOT like soggy fries- will he eat them if he gets them? yes obviously.

has some.. totally minor control issues (lots of issues in general)- you and claire both have trackers in your phones. will always be the one driving. prefers to make claire’s appointments/needs to know when you have something planned- even if it’s just grocery shopping.

and now some more nsfw hcs…

I’m aware that he has/had love interests in the books but virgin court is very dear to me </3

idk the fact that he was sent to jail at 15 and then recruited for the sierra program at 23?? he had no time for sex between all that and never really found a reason to go out of his way to do it

but I do think that he’s a quick learner and he is definitely not one to shy away from something new.. while he may let you take the lead at first he’s still very much in control

at first he make you show him how you like it- asks if what he’s doing feels good not because he wants the praise but because he genuinely wants to know

will get rough w you if you try him- he knows his strength! if you’re being shy and looking away he’ll grip your chin and tilt your head to him but if you’re just being a brat?? he’s squishing your cheeks with one hand and glaring down at you telling you to behave

if you’re into it he will also use his leg to lock you in place while you deepthroat or even just cockwarm him

^he’ll even fuck you in a headlock if you ask nicely

more on his oral fixation.. he needs to have his mouth on you during sex. it doesn’t matter if he’s kissing your neck, cheek, forehead, or lips- he just needs to have his mouth doing something

I JUST KNOW HES LOUD WHILE YOU GIVE HIM HEAD.

^(you can shut him up or at least get him to be quieter by stuffing your underwear in his mouth..)

idk I feel like he’d be such a pleasure dom.. loves taking care of you n making you feel good :(

[prudejudee]

please I will beg for some domestic owner!courtland puppy play content or whatever whatever I just that beautiful man so badly. You know he could EASILY pick up on your puppy/dog-like traits and it's so fascinating to him fucckkhhhgkd

IM HUMOING MY SCREEN HE WOULD BE SUCH A SEXY SUBTLE OWNER DOM STOPPROLD

Courtland notices your habits the moment you move in. He catches how you hover near the door when he’s gone too long, how your shoulders relax the second he steps inside, and how you tilt your head when he speaks like you’re waiting for a cue. He files every detail away without saying anything at first.

He starts testing small commands just to see what happens. A low “come here” makes you cross the room without hesitation. A quiet “stay” keeps you frozen on the rug while he finishes a call. Each time you obey without thinking, his mouth curves into that small, private smile.

He loves the physical closeness you crave. He’ll sit on the couch with his legs spread and pat the floor between them so you can settle there, cheek against his thigh. His fingers automatically find the spot behind your ear that makes your eyes flutter.

Talks to you in that low, steady voice even when he’s not giving orders. “There’s my good 'lil thing” he’ll murmur while scratching under your chin. “Look at you, all calm and quiet for me.” The praise lands heavier because it’s never loud or showy.

He gets quietly possessive about your attention. If you wander too far across the apartment or house he’ll call your name once, soft and firm, and watch with satisfaction when you return to his side without question.

Likes watching you eat from his hand sometimes. He’ll hold a piece of fruit or a bite of whatever he’s having and wait until you lean in and take it gently. The trust in that small act keeps him fascinated.

Courtland never raises his voice with you. Everything stays quiet and controlled, the same way he handled missions. The contrast between his lethal past and the gentle way he handles you makes the dynamic feel even more intimate.

He keeps a mental list of your tells. The way your breathing changes when he pets you, how your fingers twitch when you want to crawl closer, the soft sound you make when he calls you petnames. He studies them like intel.

After years of being invisible and disposable, having someone who looks at him like he’s the center of their world is something he never expected. He protects that feeling fiercely.

[surturedberries]

⋆˚꩜｡ ryland grace with shy versus outgoing readers !

when it comes to shy!reader and ryland...

ryland was one of the very few people in your life who was never put off by your shyness. even before he was a teacher, he always had an endless well of patience. so whenever you confess something with your arms braced over your head, or whenever you hide behind your hands after a compliment, he calmly ushers you back into the safety of his arms, assuring you there's nothing to worry about.

"ryland?"

"darling dearest?" somewhere in his apartment, you were just barely loud enough to catch his attention, having been too invested in grading the latest test he handed out. scribbles of red and blue filled his vision for the past hour or so, red for mistakes and blues for compliments (positive encouragement was important for middle schoolers). last time he checked, you were getting ready to meet some people your friend wanted to introduce you to. he was delighted to hear your invite and gave his opinions on what shirt looked better with what pants, but really, you would've looked good in anything. after that, you vanished. he thought everything was alright.

but when he swiveled his chair to face the direction of your voice, his eyebrows furrowed. you were standing in the hallway, hugging yourself in a very pretty outfit, looking like you were trying to blend into the wallpaper through sheer will. he tucked a pen behind his ear. "sweetie, what's wrong?"

you didn't say much. your arms tightened around you and your eyes lowered more and more until you were staring at the cracks of the floorboards. your breath hitched, about to offer a few words of explanation, but soon after, you sealed your lips and hid a growing frown behind your hands. ryland didn't mind having to wait for you to find your voice. what he did mind was seeing you upset. he abandoned his work immediately to come to your side.

"are you nervous about meeting your friend's friends?" he asked softly. you nodded, face still shielded. he placed his hands on your hips and sighed. "you don't know how you're going to talk to them?" you nodded again. he saw the shame clinging to your body, the clear embarrassment. it hurt him more than he could say.

seeing how uncertain you were about socializing pained him. there was nothing wrong with being scared, but in his eyes, you were one of the loveliest people on earth. anyone would be lucky to have you as company. and when that lovely person doubted themselves, it seared his heart like a branding iron. his thumbs slipped under your shirt and rubbed soothing circles on your skin.

"look. your outfit is perfect. your humor is perfect. you are perfect. and these people would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to see that." his voice was soft, with a gentle rumble as he whispered to you. even in the next room, someone wouldn't have been able to eavesdrop. "you're going to do amazing. and if worst comes to worst and suddenly your clothes feel like they're suffocating you and you just wanna explode, i'll call you and pretend i'm having a stroke so you can go."

this got you to peek your head out. "there's that pretty face," he teased. your shoulders eased and he moved his hand to slowly rub your back.

you dipped into the comfort of his arms, giggling a word of thanks, and he quickly enveloped you in a tight hug. he held you impossibly close to his chest, and in this embrace, he held on, trying to seal this happiness and ease into you for when you'd have to leave. as long as you let yourself have fun, he knew you'd enjoy yourself. but again, if you needed him, he'd be there as fast as he could.

when it comes to bold!reader and ryland...

ryland doesn't consider himself a hermit, but around you, sometimes he feels the need to just stare into his drink as you take the world by storm. you have a way of flustering him that leaves him fighting for his breath, not like he minds. he just never knew someone could be that bold. he's constantly inspired by your confidence and, to make you happy, he'll always join you in the limelight. all you have to do is ask.

usually, your energy was something he admired. on a good day, you could tackle him just as well as he could you. but right now, with you dragging his sorry ass through this faculty party, part of him wished you were a little bit scrawnier, little tamer. you swerved your way through his coworkers and friends, leaving him to duck and dodge after you. "sweetie, it's really not a big deal," he urged.

"no, it is a big deal. you spent hours working on that model for your kids. mrs. havershaw saying 'the inaccuracies make it cuter' isn't being considerate, it's a backhanded compliment."

he sighed and continued his attempts of resisting your hold. you wouldn't let up, but then again, he wouldn't either. "what are you gonna do, huh? just march up to her and say she was being rude? that i'm owed an apology?"

you squinted at him. "of course."

ryland stammered half-sentences and looked around for help. "you're serious?"

"of course, i'm serious," you said, taking a moment to look behind you. "now let's go," and you tugged his arm one more time before he slipped out of your grasp. "ryland!"

he held his hands up and away from your reach, giving you no choice but to listen to him. you did have a very commanding glare, which was hard to talk over, but he needed you to hear him out. he stepped out of the way from people; you did the same. "it's not that big of a deal," he whispered. "even if it wasn't a compliment and she was dissing my model, then fine. the kids like it and that means more. besides, what does she know about papier mache? probably as little as me. she couldn't do it any better."

you furrowed your eyebrows. "you deserve an apology. you're one of the most hardworking people in this school. you go above and beyond for your students on the shit wage they give you, and you don't deserve to be made fun of for what you do."

he crossed his arms and looked at you. the fire in your eyes, the confidence that radiated off of you like heat waves. you had never even talked to mrs. havershaw, but it didn't matter. you could convince anyone of anything. you were just that likeable. and still, he didn't care. what mattered was knowing that your eyes lit up for him, to defend him: some broke middle school teacher that couldn't even get people to believe his dissertation.

"how did i get so lucky?" he thought aloud, unashamed by the idea of anyone hearing it.

you rolled your eyes, and the sight of your uninhibited sass made him smile even more. it didn't last long though. "you'll feel even more lucky when i get havershaw bringing you coffee for the next week." and just like that, you took off into the crowd, and ryland followed suit, praying he found you before you found havershaw.

notes: what cutie patooties! i hope you all enjoyed, i wanted to cover both ends of the spectrum and i had so much fun writing this >< and im wishing you all a lovely day! my inbox is open so stop by and chat if you'd like to!

[bibigo-lover]

need your thoughts on girl dad! ryland and colt please and thank you 🙂‍↕️

girl dad!ryland is such a sweetheart. will be very into planning family field trips, which are essentially excuses for him to take you both out to museums across the city. very intent on teaching science to his daughter—but not super strict on the subject. any learning will do. especially when she’s younger, definitely the type to carry the toddler-sized backpack on one shoulder. grace does not care if it is absolutely miniature on him. prime piggyback giver. the absolute only downside is that ryland grace is terrible at cooking for his daughter. maybe can do sandwiches alright, but not much else unfortunately. and cereal. he’s got a two-item menu.

girl dad!colt is much more reckless, which you absolutely not a fan of. obviously, stuntman and all, he’s much more likely to introduce his daughter to the fun stuff—basically anything on wheels: skateboard, bike, roller skates, go-karts, you name it. oddly enough, he thinks this is more safe than stupid shit he used to do when he was a kid (aka jumping between roofs). the flip side of it is that colt is a lot more strict on safety, insistent on helmets and knee pads and bracing for impact. colt tries to assure you that it’s all good, not to worry, and you’re pretty sure he wants to give you a heart attack. also a sucker for taking you both out on long drives. colt loves to see his partner and his daughter reveling in nature. soft-launching him as a granola parent.

[kenough-for-me]

Too Sweet

Luke Glanton x Reader ~~ You're just too sweet for him ~~ 3.1K Words

You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape

Warnings: Minors DNI!! Smut (first time writing it, might be cringey), he guides you through it, use of ‘pretty’ and ‘pretty girl’ and ‘baby’, one-night stands (it’s Luke), slight angst, pregnancy mention, hopeful ending (he just wants to be a dad, your honor)

The carnival was as lively as ever, filled with the laughter of children and adults alike, the screams of those on the terribly put-together rides, and the conversation between friends and family.

The rev of motorcycle engines.

The carnival was only in town for a few more weeks, arriving early summer and leaving early fall.

You didn’t originally want to go, preferring to avoid the high prices and scams. 

But friends can be very convincing when they mention a handsome motorcyclist.

It took a while of begging, but after finally agreeing to their pleas, they dragged you to the carnival, specifically a small tent near the back.

You all rush in late, the stunt show having already started by the time you're situated near an empty corner of the tent.

The announcer’s voice booms through the tent, showing off every move, commenting on the trio as they work.

Standing in the small tent, your friends on both sides, your eyes held wonder as you watched the three motorcyclists, promptly dubbed Luke and the heartthrobs.

They bobbed and weaved around each other in the ball cage, the voice of the announcer becoming background noise as one even goes upside down, your amazement only growing.

So entranced with what was before you, the motorcyclists carefully left the ball cage one by one. It took one of your friends gripping onto your arm and dragging you out before you finally snapped out of it.

But your gaze remains over your shoulder, watching as the group of three leaves on the other side, barely catching a glimpse of blond hair as he removes his helmet.

Your group of friends all stand together outside the tent, their words going in one ear and out the other, your mind still recalling the events of just the past few minutes.

Eyes wandering over the different groups of people exiting the tents, your eyes find a man standing off to the side in the middle of a group of kids. His blond hair instantly catches your eyes, as do the tattoos that litter every inch of his skin.

He stood, an unlit cigarette limply sitting between his lips, muttering something to the group of children while signing a piece of paper.

His eyes glance up, sharp and blue, as if sensing you staring at him.

Your breath hitches, shoulders tensing ever so slightly before you quickly look away, following after your group of friends as they head towards the area of booths that held the corny carnival games, their voices talking about which stuffed animal they wanted to win.

A soft chuckle follows you as you go.

The next night, after hours of mental debate, pacing back and forth in front of your bed, you decide to head back to the carnival. 

Without your friends this time.

You spend way too long checking yourself in the bathroom mirror before you leave the house, straightening the skirt you wore, adjusting every strand of your hair until you find it perfect.

The lowering sun in the bedroom window was your tell that you needed to hurry.

The show, once again, had already started by the time you had entered the same tent as last night, finding yourself front and center as you watch the stunt show with the same wonder-filled eyes.

The roar of engines and the shout of the announcer fill your ears, but just as last night, they all become background noise to the show in front of you, your eyes following the rider with the red jacket.

Every cell in your body tells you that it's him.

The confidence that oozed from every upside-down turn, like he knew he was putting on a good show with every move he made.

Yeah, that was him.

The show ended as quickly as it started, your body being led by the group of people as they head out of the tent, your eyes shooting over your shoulder multiple times to watch as he heads out the other way, his form hidden behind the tent flap as it closes.

You quickly step off to the side once the cooling night air hits your face, away from the crowd as they disperse into different parts of the carnival. Your eyes move without you telling them to, looking around for something, but what catches your eye is the group of kids that run past you.

Their hands held pieces of paper and a myriad of pens or pencils, their smiles as bright as the sun, with their cheeks rosy, excitement flowing off their little bodies in waves as they made it towards their destination.

Him.

That blond hair and those sharp, blue eyes. The tattoos that were painted on every inch of his skin.

He entertains the kids with the same indifference as last night, signing their papers and mumbling soft words down to them. This time, a lit cigarette was held loosely by his lips, the smoke framing his face as it flowed out of the burning end and up towards the night sky.

And just like last night, his eyes flick up in your direction, catching your gaze before you can look away.

His lips quirk into a grin, silent and teasing like the cat that caught the canary, and he sends the kids off with few words.

Your heart was already racing as you stared off in a random direction, feigning interest in the group of game booths that were in front of you, your cheeks already warming to the touch at being caught in your staring.

Crunching of grass under boots only causes your heart to skip, your hands gripping onto the fabric of your skirt as you will your mind not to make a fool of yourself.

“Hey.”

His voice was a rumble as he made his way to stand beside you, his body just close enough that you could smell him.

Motor oil, cigarettes, and a faintness of cologne.

After a few moments, your eyes finally flick up to meet his gaze, finding him staring intently at you, his cigarette glowing between his fingers and that same grin upon his lips.

“Hello.”

Soft voice.

That’s what instantly caught his attention.

Just a word spoken from between your glossed lips, and he could already feel the sugar rush that bled through his very veins.

It was addictive.

Everything about him was rough; everything about him screamed trouble. He wasn’t made to be around a girl like you.

Soft and sweet, your eyes held a look in them that just screamed to him that you shouldn’t have even been here alone.

But he liked indulging himself every once in a while.

He takes a breath of his cigarette, flicking the ashes beside him. He turns his head away from you, blowing the smoke up into the air, before his gaze quickly moves back to you, smoke still billowing from his lips and nostrils.

“Name’s Luke, but you knew that already, didn’t you?”

You did.

The announcer said his name almost every other sentence.

But that didn’t fall from your lips. Instead, you give him your own name, watching as he takes another drag before your name leaves him in a gentle hum.

It sent a jolt through your spine at the way he said your name.

A word you had heard your entire life, and Luke said it in a way that made it feel like it was truly special.

Flicking down his cigarette, he stomps it out with his boot, his hands stuffing into the pockets of his jeans as he looks into your eyes, his grin only widening with his next words.

“Want a ride?”

—

This was not the ride you imagined Luke talking about.

But, oh, did it feel so good.

You sat, perched on his lap, his cock nestled deep inside you.

Underneath you, he rested against the pillows, that same grin upon his lips curling around the fresh cigarette that he had lit just before, as his hands rested warmly against your waist.

Your thighs tremble on either side of his hips, hands planted firmly on his chest as you take a moment to get used to his size.

One of his hands lifts from your hips as he takes a drag from the cigarette, blowing the cloud above him instead of in your face, despite how badly he wanted to.

Despite himself, knowing he should give you as long as you needed, he can’t help the way his hips buck at the squeezing of your walls around him, smile widening at the yelped moan that bubbles past your lips at the movement.

“Come on, pretty. Give those hips a swirl.”

His voice was a drunken hum, even though not a drop of alcohol had passed his lips, his hand returning to your hip.

Luke was drunk on you, on the feeling of you around him, on top of him.

Eyes half-lidded and biting your bottom lip, your perfectly manicured nails dig ever so slightly into his pecs as you begin to slowly roll your hips, leaving him with a delicious sting that he would chase forever.

Luke’s head falls back, releasing a huff of smoke as your hips move, causing you to squeeze him even more.

“That’s it, pretty girl.”

His words were released in a drawl, fingers digging into your hips enough that you would find beautiful bruises in the shape of his hands the next morning.

Keeping his grip tight, he helps guide your movements, watching the way your eyes roll back when he occasionally bucks his hips.

His grin turns wolfish as he feels your walls tighten in a way he has grown familiar with, hand slipping from your waist to your front as he begins to thumb at that sensitive bundle of nerves, rewarding him with a whimpered moan as your body tries to curl in on itself at the sudden addition of pleasure.

“Luke… Luke…”

“Sound so pretty, baby. Let go for me, yeah? Cum for me, pretty.”

A mix of moans and whines escapes you as he feels that familiar rush, the tightening of your walls, your nails digging enough to draw little specks of blood.

He wasn’t far behind, having come so close just from resting inside you earlier, with just a few more bucks of his hips, he groans your name around his cigarette as he releases deep inside you.

Your body slumps against him, body instantly exhausted from release. With your head resting against his chest, his heartbeat was the sound that lulled you to sleep.

Luke stares down at you, silently shocked at how easy it was for you to fall asleep. Something curls deep within his heart at the sight of it, his fingers slowly curling in your hair as his other hand stubs out his cigarette.

A feeling he didn’t want to ignite.

—

When you woke the next morning, the bed was cold and Luke was nowhere to be seen. Shakily, you gather yourself and your things, looking around his trailer once more.

It was stupid.

Leaving behind a small note with your number on it and your name (just in case he forgot).

Giving yourself false hope as you walk home, alone, legs trembling and embarrassment bleeding through every cell in your body.

But the call never came. The phone never rang.

Your heart dropped as you heard about it while walking through the store. The carnival was gone.

And with it… him.

Used.

That’s the word that echoes through your mind every time you think of that night with him. Of his blond hair and blue eyes. Of his words he whispered in smoke.

A mistake.

That’s the word that echoes through your mind as you stand in front of the mirror every night, watching as it slowly begins to grow with a life that was never meant to be.

You told your friends in a mixture of sobs and cries, realizing that your life would never be the same after a night that you could never take back.

They held you tight, whispered their support, and made sure that you knew that they would be there every step of the way.

Why need a father who was probably a deadbeat when the baby would have had such a large, supportive family already?

You hear that first little heartbeat at a doctor’s visit, and the second word instantly melts from your mind.

The night might have been a mistake… but this baby was not.

And you steel yourself, already making a plan on how you would continue.

Without Luke.

—

The carnival was back in town.

A year had passed.

Ninth months of struggling through a pregnancy. A birth. And a little girl who was 3 months old.

Of course, she had to be born with his blond hair and blue eyes.

At least she had your nose and smile.

She was currently held against your chest, wrapped in a soft length of cloth to keep her from slipping, something your friend had seen in a magazine and taught you how to do.

You had been walking around, watching as her small eyes took in all the sights and sounds, your friends playing every game they could to win her more stuffed animals to fill her room.

The tent that held the revving of engines was one you avoided quite heavily; the trailer that you remember vividly was one you made sure to be out of sight from at all times.

Standing back, you watch as two friends work together to throw darts and pop as many balloons as possible, aiming to get the biggest teddy bear that was zip-tied to the frame, the smile on your lips soft.

They cared for the little girl against your chest as much as you did.

Behind you, you hear your name breathed out, like it was in reverence, like it was a word to be treasured.

There you find him.

You had been so busy watching your friends play that you had completely missed that the roaring of engines no longer echoes through the carnival.

That blond hair.

Those blue eyes, softening at the sight of you.

They flick down to the infant wrapped against your chest, taking her small form in, taking in the instant similarities.

“Is she-”

“Yours?”

Luke’s eyes move up to meet yours, looking over your face, watching as it switches between a myriad of emotions: regret, anger, sadness, before finally landing on something calm.

“Yeah… she is.”

He looks like he was going to say something, but is interrupted as your friends call your name, quickly swarming around you with heated glares thrown his way.

Luke wasn’t even given a chance as your lead away, more glares thrown over their shoulders, his eyes watching as you disappear behind a booth, his shoulders slowly drooping.

He had a daughter.

—

Luke’s motorcycle engine roars as he stops in front of a small house, quaint and so distinctly you, kicking out the stand and killing the engine.

Nerves roll through his entire body, more than had ever done so before.

He was used to one-night stands, never looking back and riding into the wind, never to speak to the woman again.

But then there was you.

Soft and sweet, you.

You, who had left your number in his trailer with a little heart by your name.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he slowly makes his way to the door, giving three sharp knocks and then shoving his hands in his pockets.

A slight shuffle is heard inside, your voice muffled as you speak to somebody, before the door swings open.

And the air is knocked from his chest.

Hell, he knew you were pretty, but seeing you now was downright ethereal.

Even with your hair a mess, even with the spit-up staining your shirt, you had a certain glow about you.

The little girl lying in your arms squirms slightly, her small fist gripping onto your shirt as she releases the softest of coos.

Luke instantly finds himself wanting to take a picture.

He watches as your eyes shift at the sight of him, not expecting his form to be what was taking up the small area of your porch.

“Luke?”

Your voice was still as soft as he remembered it, without the sounds of the carnival and your friends to drown it out.

“I wanted to see you.”

Your grip tightens around the small girl, a protective grip as you try to put up more invisible walls between you.

“You didn’t even call-”

“I screwed up, okay.” He interrupts you, grabbing a cigarette for comfort and placing it between his lips, not yet lighting it, “You were this sweet thing, and I always screw up anything good for me. So I just… stayed away.”

His confession was punched out, something he didn’t enjoy confessing to somebody in the open, but damnit, he wanted this life.

No… he needed it

Needed you and her in it.

“How did you even find me?”

You shift a little on your feet, adjusting your hold on the infant as her eyes finally drift over to Luke.

Eyes that looked so much like his, but brighter, so full of life.

“Will you hate me if I say I cornered one of your friends?”

A sigh rolls past your lips, having a feeling you knew which one spilled, they were always easy to cave under pressure.

You’d need words with them after this.

Your eyes stare up at him, before moving up and down, taking in his form with the slightest quirk of your lips.

“You won’t stop… will you?”

“Not a chance, pretty.”

His answer comes quickly, and he is sure of it.

Glancing down at the girl in your arms, you watch as she looks from Luke to up at you, giving you the smallest of smiles on her lips. Your shoulders relax ever so slightly before your gaze moves back to Luke.

“Would you like to hold her?”

“Yes.”

That answer comes even quicker.

You wait until he shoves the cigarette into his pocket, carefully placing the precious bundle into his arms, making sure they are in the correct position to hold her. He seemed weary of holding her, like he was afraid that he was doing something wrong.

But his blue eyes soften even more, if that was possible, his voice softening to a whisper.

Crossing your arms, you lean against the doorframe, watching with a soft smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Maybe… just maybe… things would turn out okay.

[wurstproldiers]

rygos funnies part two | part one