#984 words

[banschivs]

ahem. tell us what transferring arthur's lyrics onto digital is like for miss nix and do they ever make her cry.

   @jokethur   ///   Just to start,  Nix is ferociously supportive of Arthur's music and his writing and everything that comes with that.  She designed a music and recording room for him on the top floor of their house and revealed it as a surprise;  it has all the equipment he could need and is very much a space designed solely for him.  Like Nix's recording and gaming room,  it's suited perfectly to the person it was designed for,  and just as an aside it wouldn't surprise me if some of his music,  even just as acoustic,  made it onto her streams.  She's so proud of everything he creates and thinks that it's all just so beautiful and magical and not something she could ever even attempt to do (a lot of instruments requiring two working hands aside),  so she encourages him near-constantly.  She completely believes he'll be scoring Oscar winners one day,  maybe even without the pseudonym.

So for Nix the actual process of scribing his lyrics and transferring his songs to digital copies is something she does love to do.  She loves her man and wants to not only support his process but be a part of it in some little way.

Unlike Nix who has been unfortunately forced to live like an open wound every minute of her life,  and thus doesn't really have anything that's solely hers in terms of emotion and thought,  Arthur is very much a house with all the rooms locked.  I think we once described Nix as being allowed in the porch and that's about it.  With that being said,  having the insight into his music and lyrical writing,  and what with Arthur being so emotive in how he writes and creates,  is something of a blessing.  For Nix a lot of it is to do with being let in,  and trusted with what's behind door number one, two, three etc etc even just for a moment.  There's a lot of hurt in Arthur's heart,  but there's also so much love,  too,  and she thinks he's beautiful.  It's a privilege she doesn't take lightly,  but also doesn't exactly voice so as a means to not frighten him off.  His lyrics,  and him allowing her to scribe them the way she does,  are a view into Arthur's feelings that she otherwise wouldn't have,  on largely any subject.

They're partners,  she wants to be his partner.  It's about the only thing she's wanted so badly in her life.  It's more an actual need than a mere desire,  but there is always going to be this space between them she can't cross,  and that he doesn't want her to cross.  Some days it feels so overwhelming and enormous,  and other days,  like when she's helping him with these lyrics and she's given that plain,  clear view,  it feels a little more manageable and a little less daunting.  That's something she treasures.  Songs about her or their children in particular,  what they have together,  offer her certainty when she otherwise does suffer plenty of insecurity.  There's a lot of relief and comfort in it for her too,  and it wouldn't surprise me if she lets him in on that just by how her demeanour shifts and through her actions,  if not through words.  She has had to learn to filter some things so they don't just fall out of her mouth.  Just how big a deal his writing and expression is is one of these things she does filter.  She doesn't want to overwhelm and lose this shared thing between them.

That being said,  she's well aware of what he's been through in his life,  and is good at pinpointing which songs cover which strain on his heart.  Ones she's read and typed up in regards to Penny,  and subjects connected to her,  are obviously a weight for her.  It's his expression right in front of her eyes of the neglect and abuse he suffered,  and the trauma that was borne from it,  and yet she knows not to touch on it beyond what she's doing.  She knows well enough that there's no speaking on it,  and even no speaking ill of his mother,  no matter how much she wishes to.  Still,  she takes some small comfort in helping him with what he has written and how he is expressing himself.  It doesn't feel like she's doing anything,  really,  but it's a small and subtle show of her support.  Nix would never leave him because of anything Arthur's gone through (she has read Penny's file,  given her by Gary early in the relationship — she knows everything the authorities knew about 'the house of horrors'),  but knows he doesn't think the same.  So she's a stalwart and unmoving,  if quiet in this instance,  partner for him.  She'd do anything for him,  and I do mean anything.  This is really the least.

A somewhat upsetting point to remember is that Nix seriously struggles to relate to emotions of any kind,  positive or negative.  She has very little base for comparison in general — what she has and knows from Arthur and the life they're building is all she has and knows.  Arthur is her life,  and not just in the romantic and flowery sense.  Literally everything she has, including her independence and admittedly fragile sense of self,  is from and because of him.  She very much needs an insight like this to not feel quite so isolated (even if in life she just is),  so it's a gift from him,  really.  It's a way she can know her husband,  the only person she's ever loved and desperately wanted to know as close to the bone as he does her.  Part of her knows she'll never,  and it isn't a two-way street,  but these little things give her a nudge forward in the right direction,  even if this allegorical destination won't ever actually be reached.

tldr: it’s all good.

#jokethur #☠ abt. ⋙ 𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠. #question is in these 984 words did i even answer the question #also peak brain moment ! spelling pseudonym as sudoname before the edit ! #only like three of those letters belong in that word that's so stupid #anyway nix loves him so much and too much so hopefully that got across

[moonstruckme]

hi gorgeous!!

could i request poly!marauders with a reader who has been avoiding them a bit? she’ll text and call them, but not see them in person? maybe she tells them she’s really busy and they finally get her to come over or maybe catch her somewhere out n about and find her with a ~mysterious~ black eye? she finally ends up telling them abt it and she’s so embarrassed by how she’s got it and didn’t want them to fret over her? they poke fun of her a little, but it ends with hugs or cuddles on the couch?

(this is so definitely not self indulgent!! i absolutely do NOT have a black eye currently because i was wearing fluffy socks and tripped over my own foot and went flying into a doorknob!!! pfffftt, what kind of idiot would you have to be to pull that off…)

Hope the black eye you don't have is healing well babe!

cw: injury/bruise

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 984 words

“She said she was too busy to even come over for breakfast this morning,” Remus frets. “I don’t know if we should be bothering her.” 

“She’s putting too much on herself,” James says certainly, can-do attitude in place and a bag of your favorite pastries in hand. “She won’t let herself relax, and it’s our job to help with that.” Remus only chews his lip, so he looks to Sirius for backup. “Right, Pads?” 

“Sure.” Sirius shrugs. “I don’t know, I still think she’s avoiding us. Any plan that gets us to see her sounds good to me.” 

“Well, don’t talk like we’re about to bust down her door,” Remus says, rolling his eyes as they come to a stop in front of your place.

“Course not.” Sirius grins, and slams his fist extra-loud against your door to make Remus squirm. James smothers a laugh when he hears a curse from inside, the sound of something falling to the floor, and then shuffling footsteps headed in their direction. 

“Hi.” You sound surprised, half of your face visible in the crack of the door. That’s…oddly shy, for you, and the first threads of concern begin to wind their way around James’ ribcage. Has he or one of the others done something to upset you? Maybe Sirius is right, and you have been avoiding them. “What’re you guys doing here?” 

“Hi, sweetheart.” James gives you his most guileless smile, holding up the bag of pastries. “You’ve been working so hard lately, we thought we’d bring you a treat.” 

You all but melt against the doorframe, the eyebrow James can see scrunching in a cute pout. “Aw, thank you.” 

“Can we come inside for a bit?” he asks, but Sirius is already pushing at the door, nudging you out of the way as he invites himself in. 

You flinch away from the door as Sirius says, “Christ, angel, we haven’t seen you in so long I’d begun to think you were…” he trails off, and Remus and James both hurry in behind him to see why. The half of your face that had been obscured a second ago by the doorframe (intentionally obscured, James realizes now) is marred by a dark, purple-and-yellow bruise. 

Remus inhales softly, all three of your boyfriends nearly frozen in place. 

Sirius has gone tense all over, but his voice is gentle. “How’d that happen, baby?”

It doesn’t help matters that you get so clearly anxious at the question. “I—um, okay.” You look at them abashedly, shoulders gravitating towards your ears. “It’s not as bad as it looks, but you can’t get mad.” 

Sirius sucks his teeth, eyes darkening. James knows his mind is running through all the various people you could be asking them to not get mad at for doing this to you; he’s thinking along similar lines. “Why would we be mad?” Sirius asks, noncommittal.

You brush a strand of hair behind your ear, going to sit on the couch. “I, uh. I ran into the kitchen and hit myself on the cabinet door.” 

Remus hisses through his teeth. “Fuck, honey, the corner?” He sits down next to you, angling your face towards the light. “Is that where this little scrape is from?” His thumb brushes over the small cut with painful tenderness, and James watches with satisfaction as you go so soft you nearly forget to answer him. You give a nod, and Remus hums sympathetically. 

“Jesus, babe.” James leans closer to peer at it. “That’s gotta hurt.” 

Sirius pouts at you, sitting on the back of the couch. “Why would you think we’d be mad about that, darling?” 

The look you give Remus is guilty enough that he withdraws his hand, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“You know how you tell me not to run in my fuzzy socks?” you ask him. 

Remus’ lips twitch, but he narrows his eyes at you sternly. “I do.” 

You shrink away. “Well, I was sort of sliding around in those when it happened.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, but he lets his lips twist into a begrudging half-smile. “Christ. Learned your lesson now?” 

“Learned not to leave cabinet doors open when I do it,” you say, and James tugs you to his front protectively as Remus lets loose an appalled sound that’s somewhere between exhale and laugh. 

“Our poor sweetheart,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the unharmed skin beside your bruise. “I can’t believe you avoided us for days just because you didn’t want Remus to be upset with you. You’re rivaling Sirius for dramatics with that one, lovie.” 

“Oi.” Sirius jabs at your side meanly with his foot. “Don’t start taking my titles. There can only be one master of theatrics in this relationship.”

You draw your knees to your chest, entirely in James’ lap now, and he suspects you’re snuggling closer to him because you prefer his coddling to the other boys’ teasing. He’s more than happy to indulge you, brushing his lips ever so gently over the colorful skin by your eye and giving you a good squeeze with his arms around your middle. 

Sirius makes a soft pitying sound. “That really looks awful. Did you at least put ice on it?” 

You blink up at him, and James wants to chide you and smother you with love at the same time. Remus looks like he feels the same, the exasperation of his sigh diminished greatly by the fondness in his look as he gets up. “You’ve got a pack of peas in the freezer, don’t you, love?” 

You confirm, and Sirius takes Remus’ place on the couch, squinting his eyes at you playfully. “You’re not allowed to avoid us when you’ve hurt yourself ever again. Clearly, you can’t handle it on your own.” 

You seem like you could disagree, but James takes the opportunity to attack you with kisses again, and you don’t protest much after that.

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #the marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[jobean12-blog]

Color Me Yours

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Mob!Bucky)

Word Count: 984

Summary: Whether or not he's busy with his work he always has time for you and whatever you want.

Author's Note: I had written a story about coloring with Joel and I just love the idea of doing something so simple with our fave guys and then I thought Mob!Bucky would be so fun to color with. This is just a snapshot of a soft and fun domestic moment where our usual no bullshit boss is really and truly himself with his most favorite human ever- his wife. I also mention a scene in the movie Ghost from 1990 and I referenced this scene. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: It's fun and fluffy and sweet and silly and ends with a bit of spice bc I can't help myself, established relationship, coloring bc yay!

“There you are doll face.”

You walk into his office with a smile, your hands kept neatly hidden behind your back.

“What are you hiding?” he asks as he leans back in his leather chair, legs spread wide and smirk pulling at his lips.

“A book.”

You stop just in front of his large mahogany desk. You’re wearing nothing but a tank top and panties and your skin warms as his eyes sweep over you appreciatively.

“What are you reading now?”

“Not that kind of book.”

He raises a questioning brow.

“It’s a coloring book.”

With an easy push he swivels his chair to the side and pats his thigh invitingly.

“Come ‘ere doll. Let me see.”

You come around the desk and perch yourself on the thick muscle, watching his reaction as you reveal your coloring book and colored pencils.

He takes it from your hands and starts to flip through it, smiling the whole time.

“These are beautiful,” he says.

“Thank you.”

He carefully places your things on his desk and wraps you in his arms. You rest your head along his shoulder and slip your fingers into the open buttons of his collared shirt.

“If you’re not too busy now, will you color with me?”

Your head tilts up to meet his eyes and you find him gazing down at you softly.

“I’m never too busy for you doll face. You know that.”

He sits up and pulls the chair toward the desk, caging you in with his arms around your waist and his chest pressed to your back.

“The only rule is you have to stay in my lap while we do it.”

He whispers the words against your neck, gently kissing the spot before he pushes the strap of your tank top off your shoulder and continues pressing his lips along your skin.

“One more rule…you can’t distract me until we’ve done some coloring,” you breathe out. “You’re very distracting.”

“Fine. I’ll behave doll…for now.”

You turn your head and chase his lips, sliding your hand into his hair and gently scraping your nails along his scalp.

“Tease,” he growls playfully against your mouth.

With a coy smile you peck his lips one last time then ask, “did you see any particular picture that you want to color?”

“You pick,” he answers, keeping his face nestled in your neck.

“Let’s color this one.”

You point to a page and then start sifting through your colored pencils. He waits for you to pick one then does the same, deciding on a cerulean blue.

“Almost as pretty as your eyes,” you purr.

He kisses your cheek and let’s his nose run along the column of your throat, whispering his thanks.

“This is relaxing,” he murmurs.

“I agree. I was going to try painting next...”

“I’ll build you a space for you to do your art. Any kind you want.”

“Can we get a pottery wheel?”

“Of course,” he answers.

You turn to look at him, smiling brightly when you exclaim, “then we can make something together like Molly and Sam in Ghost!”

With a squeal you go back to coloring, unaware of Bucky’s confused expression.

“Molly and Sam?” he asks.

“YOU HAVEN’T SEEN GHOST?” you nearly shout, turning in his arms again. “We are watching it tonight.”

“Is it a scary movie…about a ghost?”

His question makes you roll your eyes and you poke him with a colored pencil.

“NO Buck. It’s a love story and they totally have sex after he distracts her while she’s making her pottery…”

“What are you implying doll?”

“Oh nothing,” you sing song. “I’m sure you’ll love the movie.”

 “I’m sure I will too.”

“You better…it’s so good.”

He lightly nibbles on your neck in response, causing you to squeal again.

“Nibbles laterrrrrrrr,” you half whine half giggle.

He relents but only after more soft kisses to any part of your bare skin he can reach.

As you go to choose a new color you pause to watch him, noting how his movements are precise and he stays within the lines, coloring each part of the picture with consistency.

“You’re really good at this,” you muse. “Have you been secretly coloring without me?”

He chuckles.

“Nah doll face, but you know I love to pay attention to every little detail.”

“Oh, that’s an understatement,” you giggle.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you say cheekily.

He nuzzles your neck, knowing his scruffy jaw tickles your skin and it makes you wiggle and squirm in his hold.

“Buckyyyyy,” you gasp.

He finally stops to let you breathe, securing you in his lap again and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

His right hand holds the colored pencil and his left rests on your hip and as time continues to pass in comfortable silence his fingers begin to trace circles on your skin, slow and light.

“Done already?” you purr.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about doll.”

His tone is incredulous even as his hand dips lower and teases between your legs.

You try to stay focused on coloring the picture but his touch is far too distracting and you drop the pencil with a sigh and lean back.

“What about my coloring?” you whisper as your hands slide down and grip his thighs.

He pushes your legs apart and slides his finger over your silky panties.

“This is all your fault,” he murmurs. “You came in here wearing almost nothing…”

“My fault?” you breathe out. “This is why I can never get anything done…you and your hands…distracting!”

“You love it.”

“I do,” you gasp, rocking in his lap. “But you aren’t getting out of coloring…or the movie.”

He takes your earlobe between his teeth with a gentle tug, drawing soft little moans from your parted lips.

“Wouldn’t dream of it baby doll. You know I’ll do anything you want.”

@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989 @littleseasiren @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #mob!bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #mob!Bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #mob!bucky x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

[cosmicanakin]

Mile High Club

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

Pairing. Dean Winchester x Female Reader.

Outline. You and Dean slip away from Sam and Bobby for a moment to indulge Dean's neediness in the backseat of the Impala.

Warning(s). Smut (P in V – wrap it up folks), Praising, Explicit Language, Semi Public Sex, Pet Names, & Sam teasing both Dean & Reader.

Word Count. 984

Authors Note. I know that I've been slacking with writing nowadays, I'm so sorry. I was—am focusing on myself to better my mental health. But to make up for it, I give you this. So I hope you're taking good care of yourselves & I love you so much. Enjoyyyy!

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Here you were, bouncing feverishly on Dean Winchester’s cock in the backseat of the Impala, his hands gripping your hips as he moaned in pure ecstasy.

The case you were supposed to be working on with Sam and Bobby was the furthest thing from your mind right now. All that mattered was the delicious friction building between your bodies, the way Dean’s thick, throbbing length filled you up so perfectly.

“That’s it, baby,” Dean growled, voice gravelly with lust. “Ride my dick just like that. You’re such a good girl, taking me so well.”

You whimpered, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his shoulders as you picked up the pace, your hips rolling and grinding against him in a desperate rhythm. The sounds of your bodies joining together echoed through the confines of the car, only spurring Dean on further.

“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good,” he groaned, his fingers tightening their grip on your hips. “My gorgeous little slut, riding me so fucking good.”

The praise sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine, and you felt the familiar coil of tension building deep within you. You were so close, teetering on the edge of ecstasy, and Dean could tell.

“Go ahead, darlin’, come for me,” he demanded, his thumb brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Show me how much you love my cock.”

With a sharp cry, you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations, your body trembling as wave after wave of mind-blowing pleasure washed over you. Dean followed closely behind, his hips snapping up into you as he spilled himself deep inside.

For a moment, the only sounds were the heavy panting of your breaths and the occasional contented hum from Dean. Then, finally, he pulled you down for a searing kiss, his hands caressing your flushed skin.

“Damn, Y/N, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck. “I could do this all day.”

You chuckled breathlessly, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his jaw. “As much as I’d love to, we should probably get back to helping Sam and Bobby,”you said, reluctantly lifting yourself off of him.

Dean groaned in protest, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs again. “Do we have to?” he whined, his eyes pleading. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You laughed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Yes, we have to,” you said firmly, already starting to redress. “The sooner we get this case wrapped up, the sooner we can come back here and pick up where we left off.”

Dean pouted, but he knew better than to argue. With a resigned sigh, he began to clean himself up, already mentally planning all the ways he was going to ravish you once this job was done.

Bonus Part.

By the time you and Dean finally emerged from the Impala, faces flushed and clothes slightly disheveled, Sam was waiting for you with a knowing smirk on his face.

“Well, well, look who decided to join us,” he quipped, his eyes flickering between you and his brother. “And just where have you two been, hmm?”

You felt your cheeks burning with embarrassment, your mind racing to come up with a plausible excuse. But one glance at Dean’s guilty expression told you that Sam already knew exactly what you two had been up to.

“We, uh, we were just—” Dean began, only to be cut off by the gruff voice of Bobby, who came storming out of the motel room.

“Where the hell have you two idjits been?” he growled, his brow furrowed in frustration. “We’ve been waitin’ on you for over an hour! Sam and I could’ve used your help, you know.”

You cringed, fully prepared for the tongue-lashing you and Dean were about to receive. But to your surprise, Sam stepped in, his expression far too innocent to be believable.

“Oh, I’m sure they were, uh, otherwise occupied,” he said, his lips twitching with amusement. “Isn’t that right, you two?”

Dean shot his brother a withering glare, but Sam only grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. You wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ground, your mortification notable.

“What the hell are you talkin’ about, boy?” Bobby demanded, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Sam chuckled, jerking his thumb in your direction. “Well, let’s just say our dear friend Y/N here has been, uh, keeping Dean “company” while the rest of us were working."

Your mouth fell open in shock, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from Dean's body as he shifted uncomfortably beside you. Bobby’s eyes widened with realization, and a gruff, disapproving grunt escaped his lips.

“Oh, for the love of—” he muttered, shaking his head in exasperation. “You two idjits couldn’t keep it in your pants for five minutes, could you?”

You felt the embarrassment coursing through you, and you resisted the overwhelming urge to bury your face in your hands. But Dean, ever the quick-witted one, managed to find his voice.

“Hey, come on, it’s not our fault you two were taking forever!” he protested, his tone defensive. “We were just, you know, passing the time.”

Sam burst out laughing, slapping his knees in amusement. “Oh, I’ll bet you were,” he chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just try to keep it in your pants from now on, huh? We’ve got work to do.”

With that, he turned and headed back towards the motel room, leaving you and Dean to face the wrath of a thoroughly exasperated Bobby. As the older hunter launched into a lecture about professionalism and work ethic, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the most embarrassed you’d ever been in your life.

But as you glanced over at Dean, the sheepish grin on his face told you that he wouldn't have had it any other way.

#﹙ kari writes 𝜗𝜚 ﹚ #dean winchester #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester imagines #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x female!reader #sam winchester #bobby singer #supernatural #spn #supernatural smut #supernatural angst #supernatural fluff #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction

[succubusmunson]

Quickie

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You’re a huge tease and Eddie needs to handle that problem quick!

Warnings: semi-public sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, creampie

WC: 984

(got the inspo for this from this spicy audio! enjoy!)

Remember to reblog and support the author!!

The bass of the music playing on the speakers slithered its way through your body. You and Robin were dancing with each other, her hands on your hips, your hands wrapped around the back of your neck.

As loud as the music was, though, you couldn’t solely concentrate on it.

Eddie’s eyes were on you, burning holes into your skin. He was watching every move you made, the way your dress moved up your thighs as you danced, or the way you quickly looked at him and licked at your plump lips. He knew just what was going through your head–he always did.

The song ended, and you didn’t have time to breathe before Eddie was roughly grabbing your hand and dragging you through the body of people.

“Eddie! What are you doing?” You giggled as he searched for an empty room, only to decide on the unoccupied bathroom.

“Don’t play dumb.” The door slammed behind him, the lock clicking into place quickly. “You know what I’m doing, and you knew what you were doing out there.”

“Me? Well, I didn’t do anything.” You jokingly scoffed before squealing as Eddie bent you over the porcelain sink.

“Is that so? You didn’t grind against Robin and others? Didn’t make me hard?” Eddie pressed his growing and throbbing bulge against you.

You couldn’t help but whimper. The throbbing of his clothed cock pressed on your cunt, your panties barely concealing it. “I-I…”

“What is it, sweetheart?” Eddie kissed your shoulders before pressing his lips by your ear. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I’d rather something else catch my tongue,” you reached behind you and grabbed at his thigh, inching your way toward the button of his jeans.

“We don’t have that much time.” Using one hand, he pinned your arms behind your back while the other worked on his jeans. He quickly pulled them down with his boxers, his cock springing free.

You wiggled your hips against him, the tip of his cock adding another wet spot to your panties. “Fuck- okay, okay.”

“Growing impatient?” Eddie slid your panties to the side, looking in awe at your soaked cunt. “My, my, what’s got you so wet?”

“Y-you,” your words came out in stutters as he ran his cock through your sticky folds, the tip catching on your clit perfectly.

Eddie slid in fully, knocking the breath from your lungs as his balls pressed right against you. “Shit- you’re so fucking tight.”

He let your hands fall to your side, his rough ones grabbing at the curve of your hips.

Eddie didn’t give you time to adjust, just pulled out and slammed back in repeatedly.

Cries fell from your open mouth as you tried your hardest to cover them. “E-Eddie!”

“That’s right, baby.” His voice came out low, breathless. “Let everyone in the other room know how good my cock feels inside your pussy.”

You moaned incoherently, finding it hard to form words as Eddie’s cock kept hitting right at your g-spot. Your cunt clenched around him with each thrust as he went harder and faster.

The party in the other room was now the last thing on your mind. Your whines and moans grow louder over the music. Eddie was making you feel so good, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. Not when he was whispering dirty things to you and fucking you into nothing but a mess.

“Gonna- damn it, baby- gonna cum inside you.” The grip he had on your hips tightened as he got closer, but he needed you to cum first.

“Please, please, please!” You felt your stomach tighten with each drag of his cock. Your fingers gripped at the sink, knuckles turning white.

Eddie’s hand reached around tour and easily found your swollen clit, rubbing harsh and fast circles on it. And that was all it took.

Your toes curled inside your shoes, legs shook as you tried to hold yourself up. “Right there!”

“Yeah? You look so pretty fucked out on my cock like this, baby.” Eddie rubbed your clit faster and fucked into you harder, making stuff fall from the sink. “You gonna cum for me pretty girl?”

Your mind was complete mush, you couldn't answer him or barely even speak. You saw nothing but white as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your eyes were screwed shut as cum over Eddie’s cock, almost ruining his pants. “Oh, my- yes!”

“Keep cumming for me, baby. Fuck-just like that.” Eddie looked down at where his cock was stuffed fully inside your tight cunt and he felt himself throb.

“I’m gonna cum!” His thrusts become sloppier, sweat falling into his eyes. “Shit- shit!”

Eddie stilled his hips as your cunt tightened with your orgasm, spurring on his own. You were milking him dry. He spilled everything he had inside you, low groans and mumbles of your name heard over the music.

The bathroom quickly went quiet, Eddie’s forehead pressed against your back. He slowly pulled out, his cum leaking out of you but not too much before he slid your panties back into place.

Eddie watched as his cum formed a little wet spot on your panties, a proud smirk on his face.

You stumbled as you stood back up, your legs feeling like jelly. “Talk about a quickie.”

Eddie chuckled as he pulled his jeans and boxers back up. “You got me worked up out there. What was I supposed to do? Go jack off by myself?”

The two of you made sure you didn’t look much of a mess before opening the door. Eyes were on you as you stepped out. All eyes were on the two of you.

You felt mortified, but Eddie seemed to bask in the audience, a proud smirk on his face. “Don’t go too far,” he kissed the top of your head. “We’re living soon, so I can properly fuck you.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic

[writingforstraykids]

The Power Outage

Pairing: Chanlix x femReader

Word Count: 984

Summary: During a storm, you're suddenly in the dark with your boyfriends. You all try to make the most of it.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, cuddles, soft!chan, soft!felix, confessions, first kiss, teasing

A/N: I hope you like it lovey🥺🤭@miuracha

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

The evening sky was already darkening when you heard the distant rumble of thunder. A storm was brewing, the kind that would take a while. Chan and Felix were sprawled on the couch, lost in their thoughts. Chan was tracing patterns on the coffee table, a clear sign of his deepening worries. Felix, always the light of your trio, had his eyes fixed on the window, watching the sky.

“Looks like a big one,” Felix murmured his voice a soft echo in the room.

You moved to sit between them, taking each of their hands in yours. “We’ll be fine. It’s just a storm," you giggled softly. 

But as if on cue, the lights flickered, then died, plunging the room into darkness. A collective sigh escaped the three of you, a mix of frustration and resignation. Power outages were rare but always unwelcome. None of you was a fan of sitting in the dark, unable to do anything productive, and waiting around until the lights went back on. 

Felix fumbled around for his phone, the flashlight cutting through the darkness. “Well, this is cozy,” he tried to joke, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. They wanted to watch a couple of movies tonight since both Chan and him had a day off tomorrow. 

Chan’s brow furrowed, the weight of the world seeming to press down on him as so often. “I had so much work to do,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His laptop wouldn't make it that long anymore. 

You squeezed his hand, offering silent support. You knew how much pressure he put on himself, always striving to be the best leader, artist, and partner. “Let’s make the most of it,” you suggested softly.

Felix’s face lit up with an idea. “Storytime!” he exclaimed. “We’ll each tell a story. No lights, no distractions. Just us and our imaginations.”

Chan seemed hesitant at first, but at your encouraging nod, he gave in. “Alright. But I’m going first, and it’s going to be a scary one.”

The stories began, each taking turns. Chan’s tale was indeed scary, filled with ghosts and unexplained noises that made Felix jump, and the two of you giggle at him. Felix’s story, in contrast, was a fun adventure full of strange creatures and magical lands. Your story was a sweet one, a tale of love and hope that left you all feeling a bit warmer inside and made you scoot closer to each other. As the stories ended, the storm outside grew stronger, the rain hitting against the windows like a scary symphony. 

Felix was the first to break the comfortable silence. "You know, I'm actually glad the power's out," he whispered, his voice soft but earnest.

Chan turned towards him, a question in his eyes. "Why's that?"

"Because it's moments like these... when everything else fades away, that I remember what's truly important," Felix explained, his gaze flickering between Chan and you. "Us, together, making the best of any situation."

You felt her heart swell at his words, and you leaned in to kiss Felix's cheek gently. "You're such a sap," you teased, but your voice was thick with emotion.

Chan let out a small chuckle, his earlier tension easing. "He's right, though. We get so caught up in the rush of our lives that we forget these quiet moments. I'm grateful for this... for both of you."

The storm outside raged on, but the atmosphere was warm and gentle inside. You shared stories of their past, dreams for the future, and little confessions that only came out in the safety of darkness.

The storm began to lighten as the hours passed, the rain growing soft. The power, however, showed no signs of returning. You suggested building a pillow fort, to which your boys agreed almost immediately. You gathered some blankets and pillows, building a small sanctuary in the middle of the living room.

Inside your fort, the outside world felt miles away. You spoke in hushed tones, shared gentle touches, and let the simplicity of the moment embrace you.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," Felix whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.

You felt a pang of longing at his words, knowing that this cocoon of warmth and love couldn't shield you from the world forever. "We'll always have moments like this, no matter what happens outside," you reassured him, your hand finding his in the dark.

Chan, who had been unusually quiet, spoke up, his voice steady and certain. "We'll make time for this. For us. No matter how busy we get, we need these moments to remind us why we're doing all of it in the first place."

Your agreement was a silent vow, a promise to cherish and prioritize these shared experiences and sparks of joy amidst the chaos of your busy lives.

As the night progressed, the storm finally ceased. The power was still out, but in your little fort, it hardly mattered. You lay together, a tangle of limbs and soft breaths, drifting towards sleep with hearts full of gratitude.

Feeling the steady breathing of Felix and you, Chan realized that this was what true strength felt like. Not the neverending demands of his professional life but the gentle, unwavering support of the people he loved.

Nestled between the two most important people in his life, Felix let go of his usual excitement, finding peace in the quiet.

And you, the heart of your little trio, felt a deep sense of happiness, knowing that everything was perfect in this small, fleeting moment.

As sleep took over, the power flickered back to life, the lights casting a soft glow on the peaceful scene. But inside your fort, shielded from the world, you stayed in this blissful darkness, proof of the power of your love and connection in the midst of life's storms.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@kai-lee08 @mal-lunar-28 @aaasia111 @lilmisssona @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28

#stray kids #skz #skz drabble #poly!skz #poly!stray kids #chan drabble #felix drabble #chanlix drabble #chanlix x reader drabble #chan x reader drabble #felix x reader drabble #felix fluff #chan fluff #chanlix fluff #chanlix x reader fluff #skz fluff #stray kids drabble #stray kids fluff #requests open

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

memories feel like weapons

Summary: after your brief reunion with Wanda at the gym, you both overthink what it means

Word Count: 984 Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: not really any? Wanda and R being bad at conversations. Part 2 of 'half of my hometown' series masterlist <- previous part | next part ->

»»————-　★　————-««

Wanda curses herself as she shuts her bedroom door, immediately leaning back to rest her head against it. She questions all her actions that night: why had she said that? Why had she run away? Her plan had always been to leave the gym if someone entered, that was the case day or night, hence why she goes at 2 am, because who else would be in the gym at 2 am? You; that’s apparently the answer.

Either way, she’d already been fleeing from the moment the door creaked open. Seeing your face again after so many years stalled the exit, but, in her disoriented state, her legs carried her back to her room before she could even think of changing her plan.

“Shit,” she mutters softly, debating whether she can go back and fix her mistake, though she assumes by now you'll be gone. Streams of different conversations flow through her mind: she should have asked you how you were, how your life had been, whether you wanted to catch up… hell, she doesn't even know if you recognised her. It has taken her long enough to realise it was you, and she knows the past 13 years have changed her even more.

02:30 flashes from the corner of the room, catching Wanda's eye. She sighs, knowing that she should sleep before her 9 am training the next day. The Sokovian prepares for bed and eventually drifts off, but, until she does, all her thoughts are on you, and whether she'll have the opportunity to see you again.

»»————-　★　————-««

Unbeknownst to the Avenger, you take action into your own hands, not wanting to go another 13 years before you stumble into her again. You promised yourself that you'd give her space, but that vow doesn't stop you from routinely circling back to the gym whenever you work the night shift, hoping that the one thing you know about this present-day Wanda is part of a routine, and not just a fluke nighttime visit.

It works, and, only a few nights later, Wanda is the one to stumble into you.

You pass by the gym, disappointed by the darkness and silence you find within and ready to turn away into the next corridor, when Wanda quite literally stumbles into you. The two of you turn the corner at the same time and collide with a force strong enough to send Wanda teetering back; your instincts kick in and you rush forward to catch her before she could tumble to the floor.

“I'm so sorry,” you both say, before breaking into nervous smiles at the action. You help her stabilise herself back on her feet again then draw back, attempting to speak once again.

“Hi,” is all you manage.

She smiles widely, “Hi.”

“So… you come here at 2 am often then?” the line comes out before you can even think about it, and you do your best to hide how you cringe at your own words.

You know you've hidden it poorly though because Wanda laughs, such a free-flowing sound which, even when you last saw each other, had been sorely missing from your life. She nods though, and ducks her head down to watch her fingers twirl the rings on her hands; you follow her gaze and furrow your eyebrows as you recognise one of them.

“I live here now, so, yeah,” she replies, snapping your attention back to the conversation you'd been having.

“The new superhero of the Avengers, so I heard. You're the talk of the Compound. Though it wasn't until I saw you the other night that I realised ‘Wanda the Avenger’ and ‘Wanda, the girl next door from Sokovia’ were one and the same.”

“The first one is still in progress. The second one is still who I am,” she mutters; the previous amusement is gone from her voice and you realise you've crossed into a topic she'd rather avoid. Unlike the others you've met, Wanda shows no indication of pride in her Avengers status, so you hurry to change the topic.

“Since you live here, I guess it's more ‘Wanda, the girl across the building from me’ now,” you chuckle, a smile spreading when you see the creases reforming around Wanda's eyes.

“You live here too?” she questions, and this time it's your turn to nod.

“Live here, work here, hardly leave here. I'm over on the East side of the building with the other agents.”

“Agent Y/L/N…”

“That's me, reporting for duty,” you joke with a fake salute until you remember that you are meant to be on duty. “I should probably get back to my patrol,” you tell Wanda, not missing the way her smile falters temporarily.

“Yes, I'm sorry, don't let me keep you.”

“It was nice seeing you, Wanda,” you begin, “and catching up a bit after so long. Uh, maybe I'll see you around here at another 2 am.”

Wanda smiles back at you; if you waited just a little longer, you would have seen her mouth hang open ready to stop you, a question dying on her tongue. Maybe then you would encourage her to speak it and hear what she wants to ask. 

But, instead, you turn away as soon as you finish speaking, cheeks burning after the implication that you'd meet her again, that she'd stay up and walk around the Compound at 2 am just to meet you. If you were bolder, you would have asked the question you wanted to ask; you wouldn't have turned away so fast. Living on the outskirts of friendship groups in your adult years has instilled fear into you though, so you leave quickly and bluntly, choosing to dwell on memories of the strongest friendship you had rather than face rejection from the girl you used to know. The girl who you feel sure has better friends than you by now.

next part ->

»»————-　★　————-««

General Taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

Series Taglist: @family-house-of-m @emiliaisdead

First part didn't do so well so idk if I'll get any suggestions, but what do you think should happen next 👀

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel #mcu #ikan writes #ikan homh

[mariannahs-world]

Delicately.

summary: you patch a stubborn bucky up after a mission and later, both of you go into the shower.

WARNING(?): fluff, pet names, comfort.

word count: 984

You sit impatiently on the couch in the living room, awaiting for Bucky to come back from his mission. Your leg bouncing up and down in anxiousness, impatiently. your nails were almost on the brink of being torn apart by your teeth as you bite down on them. You couldn't bare it any longer, Bucky was almost never gone this long. Ever.

These missions were always super short and quick, not easy but at least quick— which led you to believe the reason for delay of arrival was some complication in fight. Your mind flooded with possible, horrible, thoughts of what could've happened to him, the person you loved.

Those thoughts were quickly scrambled around in your head as you heard a knock on the door, your head turning to the noise quickly. Moving your nails from your mouth and stopping the bouncing of your leg, you stood up and paced to the door, unlocking it and opening it to see Bucky, covered in a bit of soot, scrapes, and cuts.

It was usual to see him come back home with a cut or two but not too much, not like this.

Your eyes scan his distraught figure as you step aside to let him in, then close the door.

"Oh my god, Bucky, what happened?" You ask, worried. Going back to face him as he groans, taking off his jacket, revealing some more bruises on his right arm.

"Just a setback on the mission, nothing major." He mumbles, laying down on the couch with caution of his state.

"Just a setback?" You repeated back to him as you sat down beside him, your hand wandering up to his cheek before brushing against it, pulling a hiss from his lips.

"Buck, you're practically painted purple."

"Just a few cuts and bruises, I'll be fine." He assures you, but it doesn't work. You get up and start walking to the kitchen drawer where you kept the first aid kit.

After months of dealing with him coming home with all sorts of surface injuries and other sorts, you've become somewhat a professional at patching him up. You know all the spots to avoid, and the spots to linger on that make him comfortable letting you fix his beat up face.

"Still," you start, sitting back down beside him, putting the kit on the coffee table in front. "—I hate seeing you like this, you know it."

He sighs then grabs you by the waist, softly pulling you in, his flesh hand reaches up to your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin as he gives you a small smile that almost makes you forget his current state.

"I just need you and I'll be fine, Doll." He whispers delicately.

He knows what he's doing. He's using the truth against you, he does it a lot. To distract you from taking care of him, distract you from seeing him hurt. It's like he's scared of letting you care for him. It works for a time but then he gives into his facade sooner or later and lets you make his face good as new.

"I know what you're trying to do, Buck—" You admitted. "—it's not gonna work this time." You reassured him, taking his hand into yours, lowering it to your lap as you turned back to the kit, pulling out some gauze and rubbing alcohol, going back to him.

Bucky sighs, fixing his posture on the couch, looking defeated, "Alright," he says, pulling you a little closer by your waist, his metal arm still cold against the back of your shirt.

You carefully coat the gauze in some alcohol, putting the bottle down then with your other hand, lifting his chin to get a better few of his cuts.

Bucky stares into your eyes, you can feel it, but you don't look back, not wanting to get sidetracked no matter how bad you wanted to kiss his lips.

"This is gonna sting a little.." you warn him seconds before you press the gauze to his cheekbone where a straight cut with a little dried blood and soot laid.

He let out a soft grunt, slightly clenching his jaw, his arm —which was still around your waist— sneaked under your shirt and onto your bare skin.

You held back a small shiver as you continued patching him up.

After a little while of struggle with Bucky's habit of looking away from you and you basically demanding he look back at you so you could get back to work, he was all fixed up. Although soot still stained his cheeks, neck, and arm.

"That wasn't so bad now was it?" You smile softly at him.

Bucky only sighed lightly as he reclined his back against the leather couch, closing his eyes for a moment as you lifted yourself off the couch and put away the items you used.

As you fix them neatly into the drawer, you almost jump at the sudden feeling of Bucky's cold metal arm and a warm human one pulling you back by your waist, going under your shirt.

You feel his stubble beard dig lightly into the crook of your neck, his lips pressed against your skin as his breath warms you up. Your first instinct is to tilt your head to the side to give him space but before you can, he speaks up.

"Come to the shower with me, hm?" He suggests, his voice slightly muffled as he lifts his lips ever so slightly from your neck to talk.

His hands run up and down your sides as he pulls you in even closer to him. You turn your head slightly to look at him and he lifts his so you can see his eyes, pleading, almost begging for you to say yes. Bucky licks his lips slowly looking into your eyes, then your lips.

"Yeah, come on." You announce softly.

#bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel #the winter soldier #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky x you

[lunarw0rks]

hey, love your writing!!! i was wondering if you would do a drabble of kyle garrick x y/n where y/n is a member of the 141 and they are trying to keep their relationship a secret, and just kind of fluffy shenanigans sneaking around lol

༘⋆♡⸝⸝💌⊹。°˖➴ secretrelationship!gaz // hcs

A/N: gaz brainrot hours (๑ > ᴗ < ๑) i love him :)

『♡』 masterlist ♡ rules ♡ ask box Warning(s): sfw, slightly suggestive, co-workers to lovers, mild injury mention, fluff, 141!reader, gn!reader // Word Count: 984

SYNOPSIS; trying (sometimes failing) to conceal your less-than-platonic relationship with Sergeant Garrick :3

THE FIRST LOOK;

─── the definition of a meet-cute... or as cute as it can be on an active base. It was impossible to not be drawn to him; the youngest member there, sitting in the corner of the briefing room with Soap talking his ear off. After minutes of shifting awkwardly and finding solace in eye contact with Gaz, the chatty Sergeant finally walked away.

♦ His eyes finally raised from his desk, locking his gaze with yours. Despite his off-putting scowl, his umber eyes glued to you, and only you. At the very least, he knew he would have a good friend, though he was already picturing more.

♦ For a man so collected, he felt his chest tighten. "Sergeant... Garrick, is it?" You sat in the chair beside him, giving a look of warmness and disquiet combined. He remembered that feeling; the overwhelming atmosphere of a crowded compound, the tireless workload, and all the new faces and titles to memorize.

『 "Kyle, unofficially. And you?" 』

ON-DUTY TOGETHER;

─── more of them should've caught on. requesting the same hours for guard duty as an excuse to stand beside each other. the odds were in your favor, for the most part, because most of them thought nothing of it. you two were just... close "co-workers" who never ran out of things to talk about or tease each other over.

♦ "Aren't you supposed to be watching that hill, Sergeant?" You huffed, lowering your binoculars. He was watching the hill — but only when you caught him staring at you. It had only been a few weeks and the endless chatter had turned more into borderline flirting, if not full-on pursuit of the other.

♦ He shook his head, now refusing to give you the satisfaction of catching him again. "I am watching the hill, mate, since you're so concerned." He replied, pressing his lips into a slight pout. The blazing sun engulfed his tan complexion, somehow looking more fetching than ever before.

♦ You couldn't handle walking on eggshells much longer, otherwise you'd begin to think he had a violent distaste for your personality. Perhaps it was sleep-deprivation, or the fact that you had spent so many hours with him, but you finally addressed the elephant in the watch tower;

『 "Hm, is that all I am? Your mate?" 』

LATE NIGHTS;

─── taking into account the unrelenting humorlessness of your profession, lights out became the golden hours between you and gaz. besides, there were fewer prying eyes, therefore less concern about getting caught.

♦ Kyle made a habit of entering your quarters abruptly, usually with a mound of snacks in hand. "It's only nine and you're in bed? Swear you're an eighty-year-old at heart, love." One of your favorite candies had been chucked at your head, shattering any semblance of relaxation you had. By now, you had gotten used to this.

♦ He was the embodiment of a snack dispenser in the disguise of a co-worker. Even worse when you would attempt cutting back on the junk food. Ironic, considering how fit he was — though you could attribute that Gaz hitting the genetic lottery (looks and health-wise, no matter how much food he packed away).

♦ Hours of talking could pass, and you wouldn't notice until you glanced at the digital clock. In your defense, you were getting several hours of gossip out in one sitting. It's not easy to work with the one person you want to talk to, yet, be unable to speak to them until after-hours.

『 "I think Soap's onto us. Keeps starin' at me whenever you're around, trying to make me slip up and mention you." 』

IN TOO DEEP;

─── even after several months of secrecy, of petty arguments, of varying conversations — you had never been so upset at him. Until now, when he knew the risks and proceeded regardless. Entering hostile territory after evac, purely to sweep for innocents once more, and disobeying orders while doing it.

♦ Before Price could get a word in, you were in his face. For the first time, you had stunned your co-workers into silence. "What the hell is wrong with you? Look at yourself, Gaz." You motioned toward the gash on his forehead. Then, your attention turned toward the bullet absorbed by his vest, one that could've been the end of him if the hostile had been more accurate.

♦ "You could've been killed." No matter how hard you tried to contain the tremble in your voice, you couldn't. It was evident, practically palpable to the rest of them.

♦ His self-righteousness would be the death of you. Endearing, but made your heart stop every time. "Just a couple bruises. And this?" He pointed toward the scrapes on his face. "I've gotten worse from you." Kyle gave you a subtle wink, one the others wouldn't have seen.

♦ You collected yourself and turned on your heels, still under the watchful eye of the rest of them. At the sudden realization of how much they had seen, you stepped out of Price's way, "Sir." The captain sighed, giving you a nod to ease your anxieties. He knew something was up, but never had solid proof until now.

♦ And Soap? He barely contained his smirk — shifting his gaze from you to Kyle, who only returned the favor by sneering at the Scot. Had you blown the secret entirely? That was up for debate. But they were certainly suspicious.

♦ After he exited the med bay, now with a few bandages and a bruised ego courtesy of your wrath, you caught up to him. To keep appearances, you walked parallel to him while keeping your eyes ahead.

♦ But this wasn't done. Your boyfriend doesn't just almost die and go without penance. At least... your way of penance ;)

『 "This isn't over, Sergeant. You'll see, tonight." 』

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ divider cred. - cafekitsune

#mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #mw2 fanfic #task force 141 x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz headcanons #gaz x reader #gaz mw2 #cod headcanons #141 headcanons #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #141 task force #cod x reader #cod x gn!reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #cod x female reader #i love gaz #sergeant garrick

[callme-holly]

Hii thereee!! I was wondering if you could write smth Soda related. Maybe a first date with him like a picnic maybe? Or something like that. That's all!! Hope you have a great day/night and your writing is so scrumptious omggg🙏🏽😭

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 [𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - I apologise that this isn't exact! I started off following the ask and then everything kinda took a turn and this happened... Im also on a trip for a couple of days so I won't be able to post. Anyways, hope ya'll enjoy and as always

my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 984 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none!!

The sun was hot on your skin, and the warm breeze did very little to cool you off as you sat beside Soda on the front porch of the Curtis home. He has an arm draped around your waist, holding you close despite the oppressive heat, and a can of pepsi held loosely in his free hand. His usually greased-up hair is damp with sweat and sticking up at odd angles, the product of having been run through several times that day. He looks relaxed, seemingly somewhat content with sitting beside you, his fingers tracing idle patterns into your side. 

Normally, he’d be running about the front yard with the rest of the gang and a football, laughing loudly, until Darry called for them to “knock it off and come inside.” Today, though, Soda simply sits on the porch steps, watching with a grin as Two-Bit chases Pony with the hose, Steve jeering him on from the sidelines. Johnny’s standing a couple feet away, a small smile on his lips as he watches the chaos unfold before him, occasionally dodging a stray stream of water directed at him. 

You lean your head against Sodapop’s shoulder, ignoring the heat and the sticky fabric of your sundress, keeping your gaze focused on the group before you. Soda takes a sip of his drink, and you can tell by the way his leg bounces that he wants nothing more than to join the fray. 

A small smile tugs at the edges of your lips. You reach over and intertwine your fingers with his, his leg stilling almost immediately at your touch. He looks down at you, tilting his head much in the same way a dog might when curious, his brow furrowed.

“Everythin' okay?” His voice is impossibly soft, and you feel warmth bloom in your chest. You squeeze his hand and nod, your gaze straying over to where the gang is playing. The hose is now in possession of a very pissed-off and very wet-looking Dallas, whose blonde hair sticks to his forehead in dripping strands.

“You can go join them, you know.” Soda follows your gaze, nodding slowly. 

“I know,” He turns back to you, shrugging lightly as he squeezes your hand in return. “But I promised you a date, and if I can’t give you that, then the least I can do is sit here with you, right?” He gives you a lopsided grin, pulling you in closer so that you’re practically pressed against him. You let out a soft laugh and shook your head, tucking your face into his shoulder. Soda presses a kiss on your hairline, resting his chin against the top of your head and grinning like an idiot. 

The two of you were meant to go out today, taking advantage of his day off in hopes of catching a movie or taking a picnic to the lot. But the extremely hot weather meant that Darry didn’t want either of you out for too long, forcing you to spend your date out in the yard with the gang. 

You watch with fond amusement as Steve tackles Two-Bit on the lawn, the both of them struggling for control over the hose, sending water spraying in all directions. A chorus of yells and laughs fills the air, and Soda fidgets beside you, clearly desperate to join in on the fun but hesitant to abandon you. 

You reach over and gently pat his thigh. 

“It'll be fine,” You reassure him, giving his other hand a light squeeze. “Go join 'em.” He sighs heavily and stands, reluctantly letting go of your hand to walk towards the commotion on the grass. Within seconds, he's lost amidst the throng of boys, and you're left alone on the porch, listening to them scream and laugh amongst themselves. 

Occasionally, Soda turns to flash you one of those blinding smiles that you love so very much, before he's brought back to the game by Steve jumping on his back, the pair rolling about in the wet grass, mud staining their clothes. 

The scene makes you chuckle, and before you know it, you find Soda bounding towards you once more, arms outstretched, his smile just as bright as always. You grimace at his soaked state, wrinkling your nose a little as he tries to wrap his arms around your waist.

“Sodapop Curtis, don't you dare.” You threaten playfully, trying to swat his hands away as best you can as he advances on you. 

His grin turns mischievous. “Aw, Y/N, you're no fun.” He grins wider, grabbing one of your hands and pulling you up from the wooden porch step. You stumble, giggling as he twirls you around before encircling his arms around your waist and pressing his face into the side of your neck. 

“You’re wet!” You chastise him, pushing gently against his chest, trying desperately to wriggle free. He only holds you tighter, and you eventually give in, relaxing in his hold, a content smile tugging at the corners of your lips as he peppers kisses across your neck and face. 

When he finally pulls away, he’s got an impossibly bright grin on his face, his arms still slung securely around your waist. 

“I'm sorry I couldn't take you on that date I promised.” He says it softly, leaning down to press his lips against yours. It's sweet and chaste, and you melt against him, your fingers running through his wet hair.

“Don’t apologise,” You mumble, pulling back slightly so you can look up at him. You brush a few stray hairs from his eyes, and he blinks lazily at you, leaning into the touch. “We have plenty of other days for dates.”

His answering smile is wide, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “Yeah?”

You give him a nod, leaning in to press another kiss on his lips. “Yeah.”

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

#sodapop curtis #sodapop curtis x reader #sodapop imagine #sodapop headcanons #sodapop x reader #the outsiders #the outsiders preferences #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders headcanons #dallas winston #johnny cade #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #steve randle #two bit mathews #the outsiders 1983

[444rockstargf]

hihi!! kappa request!

this is gonna be a wild one! he’s a hard dom and likes kn!feplay, i want him to be mean and rough pleaseeeee. like if he was taking stuff out on us but can we get some aftercare too please???

your work gets me through the absolute most boring college days thank you for being here !!

omg that's so real. i write most of my fics during school.

"got a knife in my shirt." | kappa

peppers. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @livingdead-materialgirl @vanlisbon @oliviah-25 @livingdead-reilly @yungbloodsuxca @imoonkiss @lankysimp @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt@mommymilkers0526

female!reader x kappa

word count: 984

contents: knife play (do not read if uncomfy!), blood, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, overstimulation

the look of intense fear in your eyes made kappa think for a moment that this was all too much for you. but this was the same girl who had orgasmed 16 times in one night and only passed out twice. so he knew that you could handle this.

he had you laying on your back on a cold bed, a ball gag in your mouth and your limbs tied up. it didn’t help that you were completely stripped too. your nipples had become erect from the draft that came in from the open window. it was almost as if you could feel the disapproved gazes from above, but that didnt matter to you right then. 

kappa dragged his sharp blade along the lines of your collarbones, seeing your skin gleam with a tinge of red. you winced, inhaling sharply as he drew a thin line of blood. a grin tugged at his lips like he only gained more pleasure from seeing you in pain. 

he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking the gag out of your mouth and kissing you with a deep hunger and desire that he longed to release. you squirmed underneath him, wanting to wrap your arms around him in an embrace but not being able to because of the circumstances he put you in. 

he deepened the kiss, using his tongue to explore the depths of your mouth as he used the side of his blade to play with your throbbing cunt, drawing a few strings of wetness from your hole. 

he pulled away abruptly, bringing his mouth to your ear as you panted through your swollen lips. “i bet you know what you’re in for tonight. i am going to make you feel pain like never before, but you can take it for me, right?” he phrased the question innocently as he stared daggers at you, daring you to say the wrong thing. you nodded frantically, an unearthly heat pooling in your core.

he forced your legs into the air, giving your ass a harsh slap as he watched you grind your clit on the knife. he pushed your legs apart as far as they would go without straining against the rope too much. then he brought himself down so that he was face to face with your pussy. 

“look how wet you already are… you’re a nasty girl, arent you..?” he cooed mockingly, using his thumb to toy with the clit as he slipped his middle finger into you. you whimpered, watching as he dragged the knife down the back of your thigh, using the pleasure counterbalancing the pain he inflicted. 

and that’s when you noticed the switch in his eyes. you knew that he had been being unusually sweet this entire time, but now he was going for it. he hungrily began sucking on your pussy, feasting on it like a predator that had been waiting before striking its prey. you screamed out, your moans bouncing off the walls as drops of blood flowed down your leg.

he went ahead and shoved four of his fingers into you, making you shiver from feeling so full but so deprived at the same time. his rhythm was perfect. you were trembling from the overwhelming feeling but wanted to bed him to never stop. he curled his fingers inside of you, pressing them against your bladder and making sure to hit your sweet spot with every thrust.

you felt your stomach churn everytime he drew a new pattern on your bleeding flesh with his knife, but you were helpless to stop it. he brought his mouth away from your dripping cunt, spitting on it before giving it a slap, making you jump.

he got on top of you, his gaze radiating malice and cruel intentions. you felt him whip out his cock, the rock-hard tip slapping against your puffy clit. you couldn’t help but whine, causing him to grip your jaw firmly, speaking darkly.

“i don’t wanna hear a single goddamn sound of your mouth, you hear?” he brought the knife to your throat, making you shiver. you knew he would never actually kill you, but he was a master at making your blood race with fear.

he lined up his cock with your gushy entrance, letting out a low groan as he pushed himself into your deep core. then he began pounding into you, not even giving you a second to adjust. as he slammed himself into your gummy walls, you felt tears rolling down your cheeks as you felt that familiar knot in your stomach.

this was only the first round but you were already losing it, clinging onto him as he rearranged your guts. “k-kappa..! i’m-” you couldn’t even get your words out before your found yourself cumming all over him, hot sticky liquid spilling out of your hole as you choked out a sob.

but he didn’t stop. in fact, you saw anger flicker through his eyes as wrapped his hand around your throat. “think you can cum without my permission, hm?” he thrusted into you slowly but much deeper than before, making your back arch. “i’m not gonna be done with you for a long time, so hold on tight.” your blood ran cold at that statement, but there was nothing you could do.

he went on for hours and hours, using you and tossing you around like a ragdoll until the sun began to rise. you were lying on your stomach, panting as your body shook from overstimulation. kappa wasn’t in the room right now, so you took that opportunity as a chance to regain your composure. 

your hole was filled to the brim, still throbbing as it attempted to recover from the night you just had. then you heard his slow steps walking back into the room, stopping right by the bed as he crouched down beside you and stroked your cheek gently. he whispered softly, not wanting to startle you. “hey angel. i’ve got a nice, warm bath ready for you.”

you nodded slowly, sitting up with a struggle until he picked you up bridal style and took you to the bathroom himself. he set you into the soapy bath, using a soft sponge to clean some of the blood off you. then you met his eyes and saw a gentle smile on his face. he brought his lips to your forehead, planting a little kiss onto it as he spoke one last time.

“you’re all mine, angel. all mine.”

author's note: thank you all for 900 followers!

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #smut #rory culkin kappa #kappa x reader #kappa smut #kappa black mirror #kappa #black mirror #did you know that there’s a tunnel under ocean blvd #lana del rey

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Arthur Playing With Your Son In The Bath

Arthur Curry X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Suggestive themes, stress, and an obscene amount of fluff

Word Count: 984

(A/N:) I found this gif and it inspired me so fast! XD I was actually looking for something else for a different imagine when I came across it. I couldn't leave without writing something for it and this is the end result! I wrote for Orm and since Arthur is a freaking aquababe I have to write for him too! Hopefully my fellow fangirls enjoy it as much as I did writing it! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Being married to the King of Atlantis had it's perks, but it also had it's rough patches. Being so called Queen of a world you never even got to visit had it's pressures. Arthur never told you the horrible things the council would say about you, but you had a good idea of the prejudices they held. Tom was a good confidant and helped you talk about things that bothered you. Arthur had enough on his plate and now with you both producing a heir to the throne, the pressure only increased. Tom was out running errands for you while you stayed at home with Arthur Curry Jr who refused to do anything but eat and cry. It didn't matter how many times you tried, he refused to go to sleep. He was due for a much needed nap and so did you, but the baby universe decided that just wasn't in the cards today. Now as night drew nearer and you being soaked in spit up, drool, and various other baby fluids Arthur finally made it home.

"Sorry I saw dad in town and we stopped for a quick beer," Arthur apologized before brushing strands of your hair to kiss your cheek.

He looked around the little home you both shared with his father. Toys littering the floor and dirty dishes piled up in the sink. His eyebrow raised before leaning his trident against the wall. He knelt down to get eye level with you as you rocked back and forth on the couch trying to keep Jr from crying.

"Rough day," he asked gently.

The strong facade that you worked hard to keep up all day crumbled a little, as your bottom lip began to wobble. Arthur cursed taking you into a hug and trying his best not to squish his son against his giant chest. You let yourself have a few moments of just letting your emotions out before you pulled away. Wiping at your eyes and taking a deep breath.

"That's my girl," Arthur grinned. He took Jr from your arms. "Go take a shower a long one. My son and I are going to have some bonding time with a bubble bath and some rubber duckies. I'll call Pops too, have him bring pizza home for us. Then we'll watch that movie you love and makes me gag. Deal?"

You laughed, this time kissing his cheek, "Sounds wonderful!"

Arthur helped you up from the couch, kissing you deeply and giving you a pat on your rear as you walked to the bathroom. Arthur watched you go before turning to the baby in his arms.

"We'll borrow Grandpop's bathroom so your mom has some much needed quiet time."

Jr gurgled in reply. Arthur nodded in agreement, "Totally. Your mom is a hero. And hot."

Jr just stared and Arthur shrugged.

The hot water was washing away all the day's filth and the stress from your body. Though it was rough at times, raising the future king of Atlantis and being human, you wouldn't trade one moment. Your son was precious. Arthur was a wonderful partner in everything. A doting husband and a loving father. Even your father-in-law amazed you as he was such a help. You couldn't fault him for needing a quiet moment in town. He hadn't given one complaint since you and Arthur still lived with him and birthed the next generation of Curry.

Finished with your nice hot shower, you dressed in one of Arthur's oversized shirts and your favorite pair of leggings. Your slippers silenced your steps and it was easy to hear Jr's squealing giggles and Arthur's laughter follow behind. It brought a smile to your face despite the exhaustion. Opening the door you spied Jr in a little floatie designed for his baths and Arthur bare chested covered in an obnoxious amount of suds.

"Are my boys having fun," you asked.

"Bubbles," Arthur roared animatedly causing Jr to squeal. Water sloshed and bubbles flew everywhere and you couldn't bring yourself to worry about the mess.

Carefully sitting yourself close to the tub and avoiding the numerous puddles on the floor, you stroked Arthur's bare chest, tracing the tattoo patterns. He dutifully scrubbed his son's dirty face before leaning back against the cool tub wall.

"Careful where you touch, or we'll grant Pop's wish early," Arthur warned.

"One's enough for right now," you replied still tracing absentmindedly.

"More than enough. You look like you went to war with an army of babies."

"And here I thought baby spit up was the new Gucci," you sighed.

Arthur tugged you a little closer, tickling your ear with his warm breath, "You did look pretty hot."

"Now who's trying to seduce who," you teased.

You helped Arthur finish up cleaning Jr and get him changed into warm pajamas when Tom finally made it back. Hauling in grocery bags and boxes of pizza, all of you were finally able to sit down together as a family. Arthur wouldn't let you get anything for yourself, so you sat on the couch holding Jr while Arthur made your plates. True to his word he started the movie you loved and he abhorred. Halfway through Jr had finally fallen to sleep and despite wanting to stay up and finish it, you found yourself nodding off too. Without a word Arthur put your son to bed before he scooped you up in his arms.

"Night Pops," he whispered and Tom nodded before turning off the movie and switching to the weather.

"Artie," you mumbled into his chest as he carried you to your shared room.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you," you yawned.

Arthur kissed your temple before depositing you onto the messy bed, "You're welcome."

He tucked you in before getting in himself and with the warm blankets and Arthur's body pressed against yours. You fell into peaceful slumber and all your worries melted away.

#Arthur Curry X Reader #Arthur Curry / Reader #Arthur Curry #Aquaman #Arthur Curry Imagine #Aquaman Imagine #DC Universe #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

[moonstruckme]

Hi hi hi! Can i please ask for a remus fic where reader is very like scared of hosputals in general.

In in the way she'd be with needles or meds nah, she can still go but kind of goes on autopilot when she does?

I had to suffer for three months when i was just 8 in the hospital back to back so everytime anything related to admission or long visits just kind of scares me and brings it back.

Doesn't have to be dr! Remus but you can do whichever you'd prefer love❤️

Hi lovely! Thank you for requesting <3

cw: hospital, reader has pneumonia, mention of needles, also I used temperatures in fahrenheit but for ref 102F is ~38.9C

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 984 words

“We won’t be long,” Remus assures you, hand between your shoulder blades as you walk through the parking lot. “I promise, love, as soon as we get your fever to come down, I’ll take you straight back home.” 

You manage a hum. You’re trying to avoid talking, wary of another coughing fit. Or a crying jag. You hate this. You hate being here, it makes you want to crawl out of your skin. But though Remus tries to hide it, you can tell he’s really worried about the turn your flu has taken. Your fever had been coming down, but then it skyrocketed, an ache blossoming in your chest that was exacerbated by deep, painful coughs. So you’d let him negotiate you into a short visit to his work. To mollify him. Still, your anxiety makes the air around you staticky and tense. 

“Hey,” Remus says, stopping you just outside the door. He sets his hands on your shoulders, leveling you with a serious look. “I’m going to stay with you, alright? Nothing bad is going to happen to you, and I’m going to hold your hand the whole time.” His eyebrows dip up in the middle, concern mingled with compassion. “Try to relax, sweetheart.” 

You do your best to seem it, giving him a wan smile and reaching up to squeeze his wrist. 

“Okay,” you manage. 

He smiles back, taking your hand to lead you inside. 

The automatic doors open, and despite your boyfriend’s comforting words, your thoughts go all scribbly. 

Remus takes you over to the front desk to check you in. He must know the nurse sitting behind it, because his expression is friendly and his tone familiar, but you can’t focus enough on the words to make out what they’re talking about. You try not to cough too loudly. Remus’ hand comes up anyway, rubbing your back absentmindedly. 

Soon, he’s leading you out of the waiting room. You hear him speak, but you’re not sure if it’s to you. You don’t try to keep track of the hallways, letting his hand on the small of your back guide you to a small, private room. He sits you down on the bed, taking your hands. You try to focus on him. The soft, worried look in his amber eyes. The faint smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose. The calluses on his hands, rubbing gently against yours. 

“You with me?” he asks quietly. 

You blink. “Yeah.” 

Some tension around his eyes relaxes. “Good,” he says, sweeping his thumbs back and forth over the backs of your palms. “You doing okay, love?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I asked you that a few times, you know.” He gives you a small smile like he’s teasing, but you can hear the concern in his tone. “I think you checked out for a little bit there.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, trying to breathe shallowly to avoid coughing. “I really don’t like it here.” 

Remus’ mouth purses, his eyes going sad. “I know. You know I wouldn’t ask you to come if I didn’t think it was important, right?” 

You don’t get a chance to answer. The coughing wins. You take a tissue out of your pocket, pressing it over your mouth as your eyes water. Remus grimaces, rubbing between your shoulder blades. He keeps going even when the fit ebbs and you fold the tissue, tossing it into a bin beside the bed. 

“That’s what I mean, lovely,” he says, gently but not without a bit of told-you-so. “That doesn’t sound like the flu, that sounds like pneumonia. Do you want me to fill you in on what’s going to happen while we’re here?” 

You nod, touching your forefinger to your bottom lashes to clear away the tears hanging there. 

“In a minute or two, a nurse is going to come in and give you an IV of antibiotics.” His tone has apology embedded in it, anticipative of your reluctance. You can practically feel the sympathy pouring through his palm on your back. “I’ve already put in a request for an x-ray, so when they’re ready for us we’ll go back, just to confirm it’s pneumonia and not a chest infection. Then, all we have to do is wait for the antibiotics to do their work.” He frowns. “I don’t think you need oxygen, but—”

“No thank you,” you say hastily. 

Remus presses his lips together and nods. “Alright, only if it comes to it,” he capitulates. “Once we get your fever down, we’ll pick up some oral antibiotics and go home.” 

“Down to 102.” 

He gives you an odd sort of look, and then the corner of his lips twitch. “Are you trying to negotiate with me? We said 101.” 

“101.8,” you bargain.

“You can’t change the terms of the agreement after we’ve left home.”

“102.2.” 

“Oi, that’s not how it works,” he laughs, incredulous. “It’s 101, love.” 

“102.5.” 

“This is how I know the fever’s gotten to you. You seem to have forgotten who has the car keys.” 

“102.6.” You start coughing, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth to muffle the wretched sound. 

“Okay, okay.” He rolls his eyes, rubbing your back a bit more firmly. “101.5. Final offer.” 

“Deal,” you wheeze. 

“Alright, stop torturing yourself, sweetheart,” he says with a good heaping of fondness. His hand is steadfast between your shoulder blades. “Just take it easy.” 

You’re prepared to try, but then the nurse comes in. 

“Hello?” she says. She has a warm voice. It’s a shame the sound sets your heart racing regardless. “Are we ready?” 

Remus’ touch migrates over to your shoulder, pressing you against his side in a quick, comforting half-hug. 

“Hi,” he says, turning to her with a kind smile. “Yeah, we’re all set.” 

He takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He keeps ahold of it until you go home.

#remus lupin #doctor!remus lupin #remus lupin au #doctor!remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin hurt/comfort #remus lupin angst #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[aevallare]

aevallare's bg3 masterlist wahoo

what's up. i'm aevallare. you might know me as an idiot. here are some of my links.

ao3 || ko-fi || carrd

here are my bg3 fics beneath the read more. these are all available on my ao3, linked above. sorry about the white boy of the century.

power decides (conscript 38/astarion)

gossamer (ongoing) - post-game. previously unromanced ascendant astarion. changeling tav.

Her eyes flicker from brown to blue.

"Oh, Astarion. Why do you feel the need to control something you already own?"

we can live forever if you've got the time (auri/astarion)

kindred (ongoing) - the og. the flagship. bg3, the remix.

auri knows people, and that's how she can tell; astarion is deeply, deeply fucked up.

pour one out (ongoing) - modern reincarnation au.

astarion's immortal. auri is decidedly not. but she's always had a way of doing the impossible.

inevitable (complete, 2102 words) - pwp two-shot. tadpole phone sex.

if she closes her eyes, she’s almost sitting in his lap again.

vow (complete, 5217 words) - pwp one-shot. menstruation kink.

when she’d helped astarion ascend, it had seemed like the right choice for a multitude of reasons.

excuses (complete, 4424 words) - pwp one-shot. sex pollen.

“Astarion, please.” Again, Auri begs. “Something was wrong with that meat I ate. It feels infernal. Everything’s so warm. I can't–”

infinite duress (complete, 2572 words) - pwp one-shot. bratty switch fic.

Astarion’s often the one in charge, but he’s been known to press his luck on occasion. If the tadpole still connected them, he knows exactly what Auri would say as he steps closer to Halsin.

Brat.

honeysuckle and fresh meat (shadowheart/auri/astarion)

oneiric (complete, 7866 words) - pwp one-shot. sub!shadowheart + sub!astarion.

Shadowheart snorts. Auri can't stop thinking about what Astarion said in bed the other night. She says, “The problem is that I have trouble letting go of control with people that I don't trust. And people that I trust are few and far between.”

Astarion smirks. “Yes, I can see how that would be difficult. I tend to be the one doing the controlling, if we can call it that, but letting it go can be just as…” Astarion trails off as if searching for the perfect word. “Fulfilling.”

green-eyed (complete, 2427 words) - pwp one-shot. valentine's day cuckfic.

All sex before was mediocre compared to this. Shadowheart wants for nothing.

Well. Almost nothing.

verdant (aeva/halsin)

impractical (complete, 1200 words) - one-shot.

His savior was a half-drow, as he’d later learn, but there hadn’t been time to reprimand himself for his prejudices. She’d slain his captors with relative ease, assisted by a human warlock, a half-elf Sharran, and a raging tiefling, and when he’d said he couldn’t possibly leave this place without removing the goblin leaders from the equation, she’d tilted her head to the side.

“We disposed of them before we found you.”

adjustments (complete, 1011 words) - one-shot.

The Underdark is beautiful in its own way, but it’s difficult for Aeva to divorce its aesthetic from the realities of living there. She’d been forced to claw her way out from destitution so often that it might as well have torn the nails from her fingers, and if desperation was currency, she would have wanted for nothing.

vital (complete, 1384 words) - one-shot.

Halsin’s dangerous in an unusual way. Being near him makes Aeva feel secure, and that’s never ended pleasantly. A tenday ago, she would have ignored his question outright.

He doesn’t press her for anything else, and for some reason, that loosens Aeva’s lips more.

old habits (complete, 1545 words) - one-shot.

Death to slavers always. That much will never change.

faithless (wyll/nora/astarion)

acumen (complete, 984 words) - one-shot.

Wyll likes to believe that everyone is doing the best they can.

bluster (wisp/gale)

tailwind (complete, 1670 words) - one-shot.

Wisp is loud, obnoxious, and concerned with little but joy and adventure. Stealth eludes her entirely, she’s constantly talking about how she’d feel better if they were on a ship, she never stops talking about how much she misses sailing and the sea, and she’s purported to be a cleric, but Gale has yet to see anything holy about her.

assorted one-shots

hearth (complete, 602 words) - shadowheart/karlach one-shot.

It’s cold tonight. Baldur’s Gate buzzes in the distance, and it’s hard to say what waits for them there. They’ve all still got parasites in their heads, there are two Chosen left, and Shadowheart’s renounced the only thing she knows.

cursed (complete, 1124 words) - gale/astarion one-shot.

When Gale Dekarios was born, there were whispers that he was cursed.

hypotheticals (complete, 542 words) - wyll/astarion one-shot.

in another life, a lot of things could have been different.

#bg3 #new pinned poast... as a treat... #fic #astarion #oopsie

[mockerycrow]

I SEE YOU EVERYWHERE (Soap x GN!Reader)

soap masterlist

a/n: i wrote this after listening to this song. not proofread LOL enjoy. 984 words! also i’m sorry about how i’m basically non existent. i’m trying, y’all </3

[WARNINGS: MWIII spoilers, major character death, grief, mentions of catholicism. pure angst, hurt/little comfort.]

Sixty-seven days ago. Two months it’s been, approximately nine whole weeks. Estimating around ninety-five thousand minutes and over five million seconds. 

It’s been sixty-seven days since.. You know. You always wake up feeling like it happened sixty-seven seconds ago instead. Your eyes flutter open and you take a breath, inhaling a certain kind of heavy and thick into your lungs. Your chest expands uncomfortably in the morning, your ribs squeezing your lungs a bit tighter than before. Accompanied with the tightness of your chest is this tingling feeling, so slight it’s almost like background noise, just like how the past few weeks have felt. They’ve flown by in a flash, but at the same time, are oh so slow. 

Sometimes, you wake up expecting to see him standing over your sleeping form to wake you up after staying up a tad bit too late because he insisted you do so. So he wasn’t lonely because ‘The LT denied me’, in his words. Sometimes, your eyes are sick and twisted towards you. Your eyes are faster than your brain and you see him. You see his shadow so thick you’re convinced until you reach upwards, your fingers pushing through the dark smoke that enters your lungs after you’ve blinked. 

You’re sure the others have noticed the toll it’s taken, despite your efforts to hide. You know they’re hurting in their ways, too. Being in a tightly packed task force like this, you’re bound to know each other's tells. Part of you wonders who is hurting the most. Is it Gaz? The man who’s been the most logical out of all five four of you. Is it Ghost? The enigma of your group? He’s always been quiet, hard to read. Harder since.. Everything. Maybe it’s Price. He’s the one who actually saw, really. The one who watched him…

…

You feel something in your throat bubble, so you push the thought away. 

Then you come back to it. Maybe it’s you who’s hurting most, being his lover. The person he insisted that was his other half he had been looking for. Maybe that’s you being hopeful and cheesy; maybe it’s you being selfish. You aren’t sure. Honestly, you aren’t sure what you should be feeling, nor are you sure how your teammates should be reacting. There’s five stages of grief and everyone’s path looks different. 

Denial – you aren’t sure who you think denial is at first. Symptoms are fear, avoidance. What happened, you can’t avoid it. Not really when he was so integral to the team. Is. He never stopped being. After a few days of people watching, you’ve decided it’s you. You wanted to put it onto someone else at first, maybe Gaz—perhaps Ghost. They’re still.. Living. Going through the motions, at least. But you had to look at yourself late at night, around two forty-five am to ask, “are they the one’s waking up thinking he’s standing over them?”

No. They are not. It’s you. Of course it’s you.

Next—anger. You debated this one, of course it was tied between Ghost and Price but after Shepherd died, of course the Captain took that title with no question. There is a major difference between peaking into the gym, watching Ghost gasp for air after a night full of boxing and then hearing through Laswell the General has been killed. Major difference, indeed. It’s not often your Captain loses his cool and when he does, it’s for good reason. He deserved it, you only wish Price was more cruel.

Bargaining? It’s a no brainer, you decided as soon as you thought of it. Gaz. None of the men cry much, but it wasn’t a surprise when you found Gaz sitting on the steps outside of the temporary base, smoking a cigarette with misty eyes paired with a lost look. A look where he wasn’t completely there; lost somewhere, maybe in thought, maybe back in that moment. In the moment where he had to ignore his mutilated body to focus on the bomb. On the fact that Makarov was getting away. He lit a second cigarette.

Maybe it doesn’t quite fit him, but Ghost was the last one to decide for. Depression is what you ended up assigning him. There’s not many words for how you could describe him. Ghost’s been flighty, quiet yet hostile. He never means to snap at any of you of course, you all know it. You can tell from the heavy, long look he gives you after snarling at you like a cornered dog. He’s just sad and scared, something you can understand on a deeper level. With him, it feels like beckoning a wolf with bits of meat—a wolf who isn’t afraid to bare his teeth. You’re willing to get bit.

Then… what’s left?

Oh, yeah. 

Acceptance. Left for the one who is forever missing.

In a way, it feels wrong. You know he’ll never be able to move on like the rest of the world can. It feels even worse when you realize only a select amount of people will know about his death—the world won’t know who he is. Work in the dark to serve the light, hm? What a fucked world. After spreading his ashes across the hills, it feels like he’s become one with the Earth. Maybe that’s his form of acceptance; going back to what housed him. The green roots and blue skies. The rain that pours down over the ruined cities you’re crawling through, the beautiful stars and planets above you during a late night in God knows where. You see him everywhere.

You hope God is taking care of him, as you rub your fingers over his cross necklace. The last thing you have left of him; his dog tags sitting in a memorial on base. You may or may not believe, but Johnny sure did. And you know, somewhere deep down, he’s alright.

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[aalyssah]

Injury

Pairing: Solo Sikoa x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Word Count: 984

A/N: Anonymous, I know I didn’t make this extremely fluffy, but I might retry this again. Hope You Enjoy!

The match was crazy. You and Bayley taking brutal hits to each other, Dakota Kai and Io Sky getting involved, and close endings of the match, but only to be wrong by a kick out.

But for some reason, Bayley thought it would be a good idea to 'spice up the match' with a little chair shot. She brutally beat you down to your stomach before flipping you over and putting the chair around your leg, up to your knee.

She got on the top rope, taunting and yelling at fans before jumping with all her weight. Her feet connected to the chair, making it harshly close around your knee. An ear piercing scream, left your mouth as you clenched on your knee for your life.

Fans watched in horror as you cried in pain, with Bayley looking concerned. She might be a heel, but you two were close friends and her seeing you like this made her broke character. She got you on her knees, holding you, asking if you were okay.

"Y/n? Y/n? Are you okay?" Tears fell from your eyes as you looked up at the lights in the arena. The referee gave an 'X' symbol with his arms, letting people know this was an actual injury. Cheers erupted through the arena as Solo came running down the ramp and onto the ring.

He pushed Bayley off you, cradling your face in his hands. "Baby, please talk to me." This side of Solo was something fans had never seen before. Usually he would look cold and act like he didn't care, but oh did he care right now.

You tucked your head in his chest, letting out loud cries. The pain was unbearable and you just wanted it all to go away. The medical team came out with a stretcher, before strapping you in it. Fans watched as they rolled you, outside the arena to the waiting ambulance, with Solo by your side.

Co-workers and your Bosses watched in shame as they closed the doors to the ambulance, turning the sirens on, and taking off to the Hospital. Solo walked up to Triple H and grabbed him by the collar, not caring about assaulting the Boss.

"You better fix this shit or else I will myself." The Bloodline held him back. "Bro, just forget it and go help your girl." Solo looked at Sami, then went to his car to follow you.

~

He sat next to you, holding your hand while rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles, saying sweet words to you. You both waited for the doctor to come in after taking X-rays.

The doctor walked in with a nervous expression with a clipboard in hand. "Y/n, I have some good news and bad news for you." You bit your lip nervously, feeling Solo's fingers calm you down. "I'm afraid you have a dislocated knee."

Your grip tightened in Solo's hand, knowing the amount of weeks you're gonna have to take off. The max might be 2 months. Right? Solo asked, "So hold long will she be out?" The Doctor's face said it all. "About 6 months." (I know it doesn't take that long to heal, but just imagine.)

You felt your whole world shatter into pieces when hearing this information. You didn't think it would take that long. Your eyes grew wide at the thought of not being able to do the one thing you love for so long.

“W-what? 6 months!?” The doctor saw on the machine how your heart rate quickened, as you frantically attempted to get out of the bed. “I-I’m fine. S-see!” You stood on your legs, but instant pain came as you almost felt.

Solo caught you before you could even think. “Babe! You need to stay in bed!” The doctor helped put you on the bed and tuck you in. “The good news is that if you do some training for 2 weeks, you’ll get discharged.” That didn’t help at all. All that was in your mind was wrestling, but 6 months was about to get in the way of it.

The doctor left after getting a nod from Solo. Solo pushed back your hair, admiring you. “Get some sleep, Baby. The boys will be here when you wake up.” You took his advice, scooting down and closing your eyes. Silence took over the room as you except for the beeping from the machine.

~

The two weeks flew by quickly. It felt like it was just yesterday when you woke up to the whole Bloodline surrounding you with gifts and telling you how you could get over the injury and now you were getting taken to your home in a stretcher.

The paramedics took you off and laid you on the bed. Solo came in the room with paper work and pills in hand before putting them on the dresser. “Babe, it’s- 7:46. Don’t you have to be on Smackdown tonight?” Solo shook his head, making you confused.

“Nah, I want to take care of you everyday, hour, and minute.” Solo wanted to have one last match before fully putting his career on hold to take care of you. When he told you that, you were shocked and emotional, but he assured you a million times that it was nothing.

“I can’t believe you would do that for me! I love you so much!” Tears welled up in your eyes, making Solo chuckle. “It’s okay. Are you hungry?” You nodded your head, while rubbing your eyes. “I know exactly what to make!” Solo ended up making salad with a refreshing smoothie.

It was delicious and filled you up so good that you ended up falling asleep. Solo loved taking care of you and would do anything in the world to do it for the rest of his life.

Especially, when there’s an injury involved.

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