#The one with the reference is supposed to be lying down but it looks more like it's doing a handstand and the splits lol

[astonmartinii]

fatherhood looks good on you | george russell social media au

pairing: george russell x fem albon reader

there comes a point in the relationship where you take it to the next level

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

- part of the brother's best friend series -

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 783,409 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: looking so good i want to give you a baby

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user1: WHAT

user2: we really be saying anything on the internet these days

alexalbon: SHUT THE FUCK UP THE LITERAL ONLY RULE OF THIS RELATIONSHIP WAS THAT YOU KEEP THIS SHIT TO YOURSELVES

yourusername: gosh a girl can't have baby fever in peace these days

alexalbon: unless that baby is coming by stork you can put that talk on hold real fast

yourusername: just because lily is busy does not mean you have to take it out on me and george

georgerussell63: alex is it illegal for a man to be handsome?

alexalbon: if it's illegal to be handsome, you'd have the cleanest record known to man

yourusername: STOP RIGHT THERE DIDN'T YOU KNOW THAT LYING IS A SIN

alexalbon: i'm not going to say YOUR boyfriend is hot, no.

yourusername: just because i got in there first 🙄

user3: i don't think she's serious but also george with a baby is just too cute not to happen

user4: george is the perf instagram boyf like he's so ready to pose

landonorris: well that definitely is something we all want to know

yourusername: i know you would LOVE to know ALL the details norris

georgerussell63: she's never going to let your crush go lando, you gotta just hold it

landonorris: i was THIRTEEN

yourusername: you don't love me anymore? 😕

landonorris: i don't know why i always get in these arguments with you

user5: i love how george just instigates things for y/n lmao

user6: your boyfriend should always support your mess

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georgerussell63

liked by lewishamilton, alexalbon and 1,209,458 others

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georgerussell63: fatherhood is a different beast

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user8: alright i am so confused

user9: there's no way y/n can actually be pregnant i saw her down at least three pornstar martinis in hospitality this weekend

alexalbon: this better be a joke or i'm gonna kick you so hard you get a free non-reversible vasectomy

yourusername: stop the violence!

alexalbon: THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR GLEE REFERENCES

yourusername: someone is channelling some serious sue vibes right now

georgerussell63: let it be known i like my reproductive systems the way they are

alexalbon: that's kind of the point of a threat, you aren't supposed to want it

yourusername: he likes threats if they come from the right person

alexalbon: i am about one more comment away from knocking down your hotel room door and throwing george from the balcony

yourusername: and deprive our child from a father... alex i expected better from you

alexalbon: that's it i'm on my way

georgerussell63: @mercedesamgf1 PLEASE PROTECT ME I AM PRECIOUS CARGO

user10: these bitches got me actually combing through tiktoks and hospitality menus to see if y/n was actually drinking

user11: i'm gonna be real angry if this is all a big joke

user12: i know kimi antonelli is young but this is NAWT the way to announce him for 2025

charles_leclerc: guys i need you to spell everything out i am confused

georgerussell63: no can do charles you gotta follow the breadcrumbs just like everyone else

yourusername: it's right there sharl

charles_leclerc: actually alex, wait, i'm coming with you these hoes are annoying me

landonorris: don't forget me

yourusername

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tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: our baby is here!

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user15: A CAT?

user16: i just knew george russell would be a ragdoll girl

georgerussell63: they were right i AM a girl dad

yourusername: finally dilf status

georgerussell63: a title i do not take lightly

yourusername: i can confirm libido has gone UP since becoming parents!

landonorris: shut THE FUCK UP

yourusername: you'll understand in time lando

georgerussell63: you just found yourself at the bottom of the babysitting list

landonorris: i don't want to look after it

yourusername: IT? IT? HOW DARE YOU?

georgerussell63: she can hear you lando that's so disrespectful :(

landonorris: ??? i'm not saying sorry to a cat over instagram comment

georgerussell63: expect the same courtesy when i take you out first corner next weekend

user17: i fear that was not a threat but a promise from george

user18: it's kinda hot

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alexalbon: NEW ALBON PETS LORE AND NONE OF YOU TOLD ME

yourusername: ella can't wait to meet the gang

alexalbon: no offence but ella is kinda a shit name

yourusername: short for mozzarella

alexalbon: i take it back

georgerussell63: cause she's the lil pearl of our life

alexalbon: i love her already

user19: so we went through all this tomfoolery for a cat? a cat called mozzarella?

user20: you have to agree it's iconic

alexalbon

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tagged: georgerussell63 & yourusername

alexalbon: i knew @albon_pets would get george at some point

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user22: i love how alex became the chill guy again after it was revealed he was not yet an uncle

georgerussell63: hard on the yet

alexalbon: too soon george

user23: the albon pets signature of approval is a bigger sign that george is in the gamily than if he actually proposed to y/n

user24: they've got a baby now he's an albon

yourusername: horsey is going to kick off over having to share george with me and mozzie

albon_pets: bring it on - horsey

yourusername: alex i'm not arguing with you pretending to be horsey, this ain't roscoe and lewis

lewishamilton: rude

roscoelovescoco: meanie

yourusername: did you just call me mean as your dog?

lewishamilton: you were extra mean

yourusername: fine lets let mozzie and roscoe scrap it out at silverstone - she's got the sass of both me and george btw x

lewishamilton: stay AWAY FROM MY DOG

user25: the merc garage gonna be a whole petting zoo at silverstone i can't

user26: you wanna catch up with red bull? sell meet and greet tickets to the petting zoo

maxverstappen1: this is my official invitation to a play date with jimmy and sassy

yourusername: WE'LL BE THERE

maxverstappen1: is mozzarella civilised?

georgerussell63: of course my child has manners?

maxverstappen1: you crash into people all the time, i had to check

georgerussell63

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tagged: yourusername

georgerussell63: all of the family here for the home race

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user27: y/n wearing mozzarella in a baby harness i need to be put down

user28: that really is their child oh my

yourusername: make our baby proud georgie

georgerussell63: anything for you two xx

alexalbon: why do i never get these nice comments

yourusername: they're transmitted through our genes x

yourusername: also george more important 👍🏻

alexalbon: i'm literally your brother? your flesh and blood?

yourusername: george cuter

georgerussell63: can't argue with that

alexalbon: well of course he is this ain't alabama. (sorry logan)

logansargent: i'm from florida?

yourusername: even worse, my condolences

georgerussell63: can we get back to talking about how dashing i am?

yourusername: yes!

alexalbon: NO. SAY GOOD LUCK Y/N

yourusername: good luck y/n

alexalbon: what if i crash and you never said good luck, think about it y/n

yourusername: good luck alex (you're an asshole for weaponising the sport (and you being shit at it))

user29: i think i had about three strokes trying to follow this argument

user30: poor logan is just a victim of the albons at this point

landonorris: have a baby and forget about the rest of us, i see how it is

yourusername: you will never measure up to mozzie lando i hope you know that

georgerussell63: what y/n means is that i love my friends, but a child is a gift from god

landonorris: it's a cat. she can't even talk

yourusername: and yet she makes better points than you, makes you think

yourusername

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tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: fatherhood looks good on you

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user31: mozzarella is so big already 🥹

user32: maybe i'm worse than them cause i'm attached to mozzie as well

georgerussell63: no one else i'd rather be cat parents to

yourusername: you're such a romantic

georgerussll63: such a pleasure to take this next step with the love of my life

yourusername: i love you more

georgerussell63: not possible

alexalbon: you being gross about mozzie was better than what ever the fuck this is

yourusername: @lilymunhe does he not treat you right?

lilymunhe: he's a romantic really, he's just exhausting the protective big brother act until george finally proposes

alexalbon: sue me

maxverstappen1: still waiting on the play date ...

yourusername: monaco?

maxverstappen1: done

yourusername: jimmy, sassy and ella will be like the charlie's angles reincarnated

georgerussell63: can't wait for you to see her IMPECCABLE manners

maxverstappen1: okay princess george

yourusername: hey only i can call george princess

maxverstappen1: you keep that to yourself

user33: disappointed that with all the tomfoolery around mozzie that there was no maternity photoshoots

yourusername: oh do not give me a challenge...

fin.

note: NEW SERIES ALERT? i'll create a masterlist after i post this. i hope you enjoyed, this one is more of a tame brother's best friend take but dw they can get more beefy and more sassy - send me any pairings you might like to see! thanks for reading x

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 social media au #f1 #george russell instagram au #george russel imagine #george russel x reader #george russell #george russell imagine #george russell x reader #george russell fluff

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 11: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism - Winter Soldier

Summary: Home alone, you think it's safe to have some 'special time', but unbeknown to you, he's there, always watching and admiring.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content, stalker!winter soldier, masturbation, sex toys, loneliness, exhibitionism, voyeurism

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

Being the adoptive daughter of the infamous Alexander Pierce wasn’t always as exciting and full of potential danger as you’d expect. For the most part, you are confined to your heavily guarded home 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Despite being an adult and wanting to live your own life, your father deemed it too dangerous that you could be captured and used for ransom.

Throughout your life, you’d never even seen one second of action or risk, and some would say that just means your father has protected you to the best of his abilities. There is a point, however, where you need something exciting in your life even though there are only limited ways to get any thrill.

This usually occurred when you were home alone, like tonight. Bored out of your mind whilst watching the TV attached to the wall in the living room, your dad walked past, clicking a button on his phone before tying his show lace. Glancing at the time on your phone, you assumed he was going to work, considering it was so late; you knew better than to ask him what was wrong to demand his time.

Walking over, your dad briefly paused to lean down and kiss your forehead, pretending he cared, but there was nothing Alexander Pierce truly loved more than Hydra. He didn’t even need to say that he was leaving as your dad prepared to leave, assuming you had caught on to his gathering of stuff that he would be going, but before he could step out of the door, you shouted in his direction, “Am I expecting company tonight?”

Your Dad knew who you were referring to. The Winter Soldier. The assassin whom you’d met on numerous occasions tended to turn up unannounced to your home in search of your father to debrief or receive new orders, so you made sure to ask regarding his whereabouts so that you could be prepared for a midnight visit.

“No, he’s a couple of states away on a mission and not due to be back for another few days. I’ll lock up on my way out; don’t wait up for me”. Without another look or even an ‘I love you’, Alexander Pierce left out of the front door, and the sound of the shutters around the windows started to descend, and the thick locks on all doors clicked into place.

You were locked in, and as soon as the metal stopped creaking and you knew your dad’s car had driven off, you sighed in sweet relief at finally being home alone. It was almost like an automatic reaction for your body to become horny as soon as you were locked in, knowing that no one would interrupt and you had free reign to do whatever you pleased, which would always be masturbation.

Turning up the TV loud so you could hear it from your bedroom and not feel as alone, you changed your clothing to just an oversized shirt and nothing more, selecting which vibrator you wanted from the box beneath your bed. Today was going to be the purple bullet vibrator and then returned to the living room.

This was one of the only places where you could feel any sort of rebellion or thrill. Yes, you could and do masturbate in your bedroom just like anyone else would, but being able to do it in technically a public space gave you little bursts of adrenaline. If your father returned home, you’d be able to hear the security system unlocking, but it was also an area that was supposed to be where everyone gathered and had family time. This didn’t refer to your home, though, as you were the only person to use the living area as your father was either in his office, the gym or not home at all.

Lying down on the soft couch, your head nestling into the decorative pillow, you tried to focus your mind into the horny zone. The excitement you anticipated hit you in your gut as you lifted your shirt until it rested over your collarbones to reveal your nude body.

As the chilled breeze ghosted over your skin, it caused a ripple effect of goosebumps to shiver over you, nipples hardening, which sparked pleasure to build in your abdomen and moisture to slick at your entrance. Closing your eyes, your fingers teased over your breasts, imagining they were someone else's hands, exploring the fresh and finding where you were most sensitive.

Pinching your nipples gently, you released a soft sigh as another hand drifted down to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Biting your lip, your knees separated to allow your fingers to collect some of the juices that had leaked from your hole and then spread it over your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in circles.

You were entirely in the zone, feeling increasingly more aroused with breathy moans and whimpers escaping your open mouth each second. This was your favourite place to be, hot and bothered, getting yourself off to feel your cunt pulsing around two of your fingers.

Then you were pressing the vibrator against your clit with two fingers delved into your warmth, curling and pressing on the spot that had your back arching and breaths hitching.

Everything was building, like an orchestra reaching its crescendo, approaching the peak of no return and complete euphoria. Then, the sensation rushed over you. Not the pleasant orgasmic blissful shiver but a haunting, the hairs standing on end over your arms and the back of your neck with unease. It felt like someone was watching you, but that wasn’t the case; the building was locked down, and the security cameras didn't point in this direction.

Your eyes opened on instinct, and fear, horror and dread pulsed through your stomach as you screamed, closing your legs and rushing to stand and cover your body with your shirt. Your knees buckled from the lasting effects of getting yourself off, but you clung to the arm of the couch whilst trying to turn off the vibrator.

It felt like your heart had moved to your throat, with the fear of throwing up and passing out at the same time taking over as you stared unblinking at the man currently sitting in the armchair next to the couch you’d been masturbating on. He was sitting as still as a statute, head to toe, in his tactical gear, even the mask.

“Soldier?” your voice reverberates off the walls you’ve shouted that loud. All it earned you was a tilt of his head to the side, but he didn’t say a single word, so you continued to shout, even though you knew you should have remained calm around someone as dangerous as him. “What the fuck are you doing here? You should have knocked or- something! How did you even get in here?!”

He simply sat there, staring at you with deep blue eyes, his long hair framing his face, his deadly hands resting on the arms of the chair, acting casually like he hadn’t just been sitting there as you feverishly masturbated naked in front of him. The more time passed, the worse your tremors became, almost like you were vibrating with anxiety.

It wasn’t uncommon for the Winter Soldier to not knock when he came to the house however usually your father was present or he’d been anticipated but for him to somehow get in when the house was on lockdown and not be expected, it had you on edge.

“Why didn’t you announce yourself, Soldier?” you tried to sound confident and not fearful, but your voice cracked on the last word, which gave away your anxiety. Your thoughts were going around and around in your head; how long had he been there? How did you not even hear him walking into the room?

The Assets head tilted to the other right, his eyes remaining focused only on your face as he finally began to talk in his low, drawled voice, “Why did you stop?”

Your eyes widened in shock briefly before trying to regain control, “What did you say?”

“You don’t usually stop. Why did you stop now?”

Your heart seemed to stop at this question. Swallowing the thick glob of spit in your mouth, you asked, “What do you mean usually? Have... have you seen me doing this before?”

He nods slowly, and you want to vomit immediately. Closing your eyes briefly, you tried to take a deep breath, hoping it would give you some composure. Maybe this was karma working her evil magic on you, you had decided, for having a kink with being caught, which is why you masturbated in the living room. Why on earth were you now upset when you’d actually been caught?

Sighing and rubbing both hands over your face, ignoring that they were still slightly wet from earlier, you tried to explain to the assassin, “You know, it’s not normal to watch people during intimate times like this. You’re supposed to announce yourself or something”.

“But you look at peace when you do it”, he says in the same emotionless voice. His words catch you off guard, but he continues, “You didn’t finish today like you usually do”.

The way he spoke about what you were doing, you weren’t even sure he knew what it was or the consequences of your actions. You knew his history, who he was and how they controlled him. Did he even know what sex was with all the times his mind had been wiped? He wasn’t acting like a creep, even if he had snuck in to watch you masturbate and clearly had watched it several times before. If he was going to hurt you, he would have done so by now, so tentatively, you sat back onto the couch, still pulling the bottom of your shirt lower over your legs and hiding the vibrator beneath your thigh.

“I didn’t finish like the other times because I didn’t know you were watching; it can make people uncomfortable knowing someone is watching them”.

“Does it make you uncomfortable that you know I’m watching?” his tone lowered with the question he was asking.

“Yes! I don’t want people to watch me do this, and what if my Dad finds out? What if you tell him what I’ve been doing?”

Bucky finally showed some emotion as he frowned in confusion, “Why would I tell your father about this? It has nothing to do with the mission? I like watching you because you seem to enjoy it; isn’t that a good thing?”

He seemed so innocent in his questioning. “Just so I’m getting this right, are you expecting me to continue?” The soldier nods yes in an answer as you release a long breath. “If I say no, will you kill me?” This time, he shakes his head, giving you the answer no, which did little to alleviate the nerves catapulting through you.

Standing up from the couch whilst clutching the vibrator, you rushed towards your bedroom, intending to hide the sex toy and lock yourself in so that you didn’t have to sit looking at the soldier anymore. However, as you stood before the door, you thought it over more. If he’d been watching you all of this time, then what’s the difference with him being here now? He could overpower you any time he wanted, and he didn't want any pleasure back; otherwise, he would have made advances before.

This whole situation came about because you liked the thought of being watched or caught, so why were you running away from that scenario? Having made up your mind, you returned to the living room, where the Soldier hadn’t moved even a strand of hair since you’d left in a hurry.

Sitting back on the couch, your eyes remained everywhere but on him. In fact, as you led back down, you closed your eyes with the hopes that not being able to see him would help to calm the pounding of your nervous heart.

Your nipples were still hard, so you pressed on them through your shirt with trembling fingers, not quite believing you were in this situation. The wetness from your earlier escapades was still evident over your thighs, which you sept firmly closed. Biting your lower lip until it hurt, you kept stimulating your nipples by rubbing the peaks around in circles before pinching them to elicit more of a reaction between your legs.

It worked after a couple of minutes as your muscles lost the tension and melted into the cushions further. Eventually, your thighs were spreading as you tried to only think about that orgasm that had been so very close to pleasuring your body but had quickly disappeared from the soldier's appearance.

With your legs now parted and cunt on full displaying, facing the Asset at the end of the couch, you turned the vibrator on, deciding to go straight for the toy this time rather than playing around first. Pressing the device just above your clit, you released a breathy moan, thighs shaking with the increased delight.

This time, your body heated to the point of sweat, and your face hot to the touch because no matter how much you tried to think of anything else, it always came back to the man sitting near you. With your hips jolting and rolling to push against the vibrator, your fingers moved the shirt further up your stomach, revealing your navel and breasts so you could rub and play with them without restriction.

Then, to both your horror and delight, the Winter Solider flashed into your mind, but this time, it was him hovering above you, using his gloved hands to press against your nipples. Your moans increased in volume, back arching with this thought as you begged your mind to continue this naughty thought.

Releasing your breast, your hand trailed down your body, tickling the delicate skin before dipping past your clit and two fingers into your drenched cunt. You were sure he had thicker fingers than you, but the thought of him between your legs, curling them right into that beautiful spot, his other hand holding the vibrator to your clit, had you whithering around on the couch.

Your pussy clenched harshly around your fingers, trying to draw them deeper, needing their fullness. You weren’t sure when it was, but at some point, your eyes opened so that you could look directly at the man in question, who still had failed to move from his seat in the armchair. You weren’t looking at his body thought; you were looking at those sparking blue eyes partially hidden beneath his hair as they continued to look at just your face like he only wanted to see the pleasure you displayed rather than just touching yourself.

“Oh god”, you groan aloud to these thoughts, legs spreading further open and half-flopping off the couch as you curl your fingers faster and harder. You wished it was his fingers touching you, getting you off and bringing you close to the point of orgasming. The vibrator stroked back and forth against your throbbing clit, and that was all the additional stimulation you needed to reach your peak.

Your eyes finally closed once more as you came hard, body shaking and curling in on yourself with each pulse of your pussy around your fingers. You hadn’t orgasmed that hard in months, so it took you a couple of minutes to try and catch your breath and come out of the buzzing created by the euphoria. 

Now what? You thought whilst turning off the vibrator entirely and leaving the two of you in complete silence. The assassins still hadn’t moved, and for a brief second, you thought of his arousal. Could he even be turned on? Was that a function the scientists allowed him to keep while brainwashed? Was he watching you enough to turn him on?

The thought was swiftly pushed out of your mind as you realised he was the fucking Winter Soldier, the highest-trained assassin who was also 70+ years old; this was probably last on his list of things to be worried about. Sitting up whilst covering your body with your t-shirt once more, you struggled to think what to say or do.

“Do you want me to call my Dad to tell him you’re here for a debrief?” From the corner of your eye, the Asset nodded. You stood to take the call in your bedroom, but as you stood, your eyes briefly looked at him more clearly and noticed that he very evidently had an erection with the way his tactical gear was tented at the crotch. For some reason, this made you feel relieved that he had been turned on by what you saw, and it wasn’t just a one-way situation.

Standing and walking into your bedroom, you collapsed onto the bed with your phone raised to your ear.

Your dad answered immediately with a stern tone, “Yes?”

“Uh hey, Dad, just to let you know, the Soldier’s here”.

“What?” came Alexander Pierces’ concerned voice through the mobile.

“Yeah, he just turned up a couple of minutes ago in the living room”.

“Well, tell him to get back to the compound. I won’t be home tonight, so he needs to come here”.

Finishing the conversation with him, you stood to tell the Soldier his orders but found him nowhere in the building, not in the living room, kitchen or even by the front door. He had simply vanished, and what's more, the alarm was still in place, which meant he had a way of getting in and out of your home without triggering the alarm, which you were sure if it terrified or excited you.

#Winter soldier #bucky barnes #bucky #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mine*

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. baby talk.

about. you know how people raise their voices all high and squeal, and pout through their words when they talk to babies?…yeah? well imagine that with your husband, katsuki.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, baby talking (lots of w’s involved), cutesy speech, baby doesn’t have a name, new parents, reader is referred to as mommy, fem!reader, girl dad + pro hero!bakugou, uncle!deku.

you’ve always known your husband, bakugou, to be slightly rough around the edges. being the man that he is, and witnessing first hand every struggle he’s ever gone through, it’s hard to imagine him without his hardened outer shell. your katsuki has stood on the brink of death more than once — testing, fighting it… all while facing a world that saw him as good for nothing and evil. 

how could you expect a man like that to be anything other than defensive, brash and bold? katsuki bakugou can be a little harsh, a little too mean at times but that’s never deterred you from giving him all the love he thinks he doesn’t deserve. you’d give him all the stars in the sky if you could, and he would give you the universe in turn. 

he was far from cookie cutter perfect, yet, even with his bumps and sharp edges, katsuki tried to love you and let you in. still, you’d never thought you’d see the day when all of the blonde’s roughness, his bared fangs and callous tongue all melted away for another human being aside from you. 

for your darling baby girl. 

“who’s my ‘eepy lil’ girl? you are! yeah. you are, sweetheart. oh, what’s that? big yawn for daddy?” the blonde coos with a sunshine smile that lights up the entirety of his well-aged face. you’re still young, for parents of a eight month old but even you can see the way that his hair is slightly silvered at his undercut that’s growing out and there are finer lines under ruby framed eyes (the late nights and early starts are probably the reason for that). 

still, with all of this, and even with your genetics throwing a spanner in the works — your daughter is the spitting image of bakugou and he loves her. he loves her pale blonde curls, big bambi red eyes and her all the parts about her that remind him of you. 

pulling her from her crib to settle her on his hip, the bigger bakugou rubs the sleep from her eyes as she wakes up from her nap. “so freakin’ cute.” he hums, licking his thumb to wipe over the traces of tears on her cheeks.

ever since she was born, earlier and around spring time, bakugou has been absolutely obsessed with the tiny human version of him you'd blessed him with. he’ll be the first one up at the crack of dawn when she cries for her breakfast, he’s happy to carry around her dynamight themed baby bag and always apologises to you when you have to change her explosive diapers (or he just does it for you.).

baby dynamight goes everywhere with her daddy, she’d be on patrols if you’d let bakugou take her on them too. she’s absolutely spoiled as well, with more clothes and toys and itty bitty little shoes a baby of her age would need despite how often you tell your husband that she’ll just grow out everything. perhaps your little girl is more spoiled than you — not that you mind, because it only means you get to witness adorable moments like these each and every day.

“katsuki, she’s supposed to be lying down.” you remind him gently, stepping past the threshold of the nursery to be by his side. your daughter instantly reaches out to curl three of her tiny fingers around your index, drooling in content between both of her parents.

bakugou looks down at you with a distraught pout. “yeah… but she woke up cryin’ f’me so i came to check on my sweepy wittol pwincess.” you giggle at how high pitched katsuki makes his voice when he talks about your daughter, baby-talking her whilst waving her tiny little hand at you. “say hi to momma, sweet girl. say hi!” 

the mini bakugou tucked into his bulky arms lets out an excited squeal — though she’s quickly distracted by mapping her hands up and down the squiggly lines (tattoos) on daddy’s arms. 

“exactly,” you press, grabbing an uravity themed spit up cloth from the diaper station behind you moth. carefully, you mop up the drool tracks baby dynamight leaves on katsuki before dabbing at her chin as well. “we’re trying to get her to learn how to go back to sleep on her own. which means?” 

“leavin’ her to cry until she falls back to sleep….” 

“which is why?” 

bakugou’s shoulders sag in defeat. you know how much he hates leaving her to cry, it’s been difficult for him to adjust to not just picking her up whenever she needs or he wants to. “you invited stupid deku over ‘n daddy has to have stupid drinks with his big stupid broccoli head, ain’t that right gorgeous?” your baby grins with her gums again and bakugou blows a raspberry at her. “oh yeah? yes it is! look at that pretty girl smilin’, just like momma.” 

you know he’s trying to butter you up for more time with her — you’re a sucker for the father-daughter bond they have already, you fear that you might melt if you look at the two of them together any longer. they’re a sight for sore eyes, the two loves of your life cuddled up with each other, baby bakugou’s pudgy cheek resting on katsuki’s warm chest (no doubt lulling her back to sleep).

“katsuki please,” you plead weakly, ready to give up on being the rain on this baby parade so you can scoop your little girl up and shower her with kisses. “we have guests and she needs to go back to sleep. or she’ll be up in the middle of the night.” 

the elder blonde can’t help the proud smile that illuminates his face as he watches his two girls together — the way you fiddle with her baby grow to make sure she’s cosy. “s’okay, daddy’ll wake up for you, won’t he?” bakugou sways from side to side, toying with all the tiny features on your daughter before catching your exasperated look. “alright, fine. back to sleep we go princess. don’t mind mommy, she’s jus’ bein’ meanie who won’t let me show you off.” 

there’s a tender moment, where time stands still, while katsuki lowers his pride and joy back into her crib — fighting back what are probably tears as she clings onto every part of him, looking up at him with her matching big beautiful ruby eyes. he feels as though he’s looking into a mirror that reflects not only him but parts of you as well. 

“night night princess, goodnight! daddy loves ya—“

said moment is lost when izuku stops by the nursery on his way back down stairs from the bathroom. “wait, kacchan baby-talks?” 

“of course i do nerd!” bakugou’s head whips up faster than the speed of sound, and you have to refrain from laughing at how fast he goes from soft and tender father to deku’s public enemy number one. “she’s my fuckin’—”  the blonde pauses after receiving a warning glance from you. no cursing in front of the baby. “freakin’ kid!”

the number one raises his hands in surrender, sheepish laughter spilling out of him. “relax kacchan! i was only teasing.” 

“tease my ass! you go ‘nd have a kid with your partner ‘n see what it turns you into — in fact, ‘m surprised you don’t have a whole litter already. what with the way you two are fuckin’.”

“oh that’s rich coming from you, kacchan. you guys  literally conceived at my family barbecue last year!” 

“well you fucked on my desk. my desk. so it’s only right that we—!” 

while the boys bicker, you make quick work of ensuring your daughter is safely tucked in and her pacifier is popped into her mouth just in case she wakes up again and needs to soothe herself. stroking back her peach fuzz curls, you press a kiss to the soft membrane of her skull and pull back with a wistful grin while she drifts off to sleep again. her unfairly long lashes flutter against your hand, mostly inherited from her father.

“alright boys, that’s enough!” you whisper yell, hands still on the bar of the crib to make “don’t you see that she’s sleeping again? we wouldn’t wanna wake her up, right?” 

katsuki pouts. “you’re right, sorry, sweetness.” 

midoriya nods along agreeably, taking a peek at his sleeping niece from the doorway.“right! otherwise we’d have to send daddy back in there to save baby girl’s day. he can’t resist his pwecious gwirl.” 

“i said shut the fuck up, izuku!” your husband snarls, cheeks burning fire truck red. 

“yes daddy!” izuku bats his eyelashes at him.

“i’ll kill you, nerd.”

“i’d like to see you try, daddy!”

“boys!” 

you do try your best to intercept, but your daughter beats you to it — waking up with a fresh set of tears and a wail so loud it has two big, burly pro heroes baby-talking her in an attempt to get her right back to sleep.  

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugou imagines #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x you #bakugou drabbles #bakugo drabbles #bakugo imagines #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha fluff #bnha imagines #katsuki bakugou x reader #my hero academia x reader #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted #angelshubnetwork

[homunculus-argument]

"Maybe magic, maybe mundane" is one of my favourite tropes, especially when it's featured in something where magic could plausibly exist.

One book idea that I had that is currently only a pile of haphazard notes features a character only known as The Queen's Mute - or simply "the mute" for short - who is exactly what it says on the tin: the queen's personal jester, who does not speak. He is also ambiguously human. An eerie, elfin creature who seems to find it funny when people are puzzled by him.

Besides being completely silent, he has an uncanny skill in copying how people hold themselves and move. Gait, posture, the expressions they make, he could just be standing completely still doing nothing, and it's still obvious whether he's standing like the king or the head cook. If you've seen the subject once, you'll know who he's impersonating. He's quick to spot every opportunity to insult someone by doing so - like spotting a nobleman who isn't faithful to his wife and following after him across the room in the exact same gait that his mistress walks in. The king once remarks that he can't understand how the hell someone who can't speak can have so many rude things to say.

The protagonist was sent to spy on the queen, and the mute is almost always with her - making no sound, not even footsteps, but making himself seen, and seeing and hearing everything. One never hears him come or go, he is just suddenly there, sitting on the floor, waiting to see who's the first person to glance down and get startled out of their mind because people don't just pop out of nowhere like that. Being fond of climbing furniture as well, he might also be sitting on top of a shelf.

Though the protagonist first assumes that he is somewhere close to her own age - somewhere in his late teens - and the narration refers to him as "boy" more often than "man", the queen corrects her. He is just as grown now as he was when she first brought him with her, and though she doesn't know his exact age, she knows he is older than she is herself.

The king - despite of being the mute's favourite subject of vicious mockery - tolerates him for some reason. Despite of being aware that the relationship between the queen and the jester is romantic as well as sexual in nature. Their marriage is as loveless as political arranged marriages get, so he finds it preferable to let the queen keep her mute if his taunting antics and his unsettling way of just appearing into places at least keep other men away.

The queen occasionally mentions things that she wasn't supposed to know - and couldn't have known - just to let the protagonist know that she knows more about what's going on than what she lets on. When the protagonist fails to hide her shock and asks the queen how she knew, the queen explains that the mute told it to her. The protagonist assumes this to be a joke, her way of saying "none of your business", since obviously the mute doesn't talk.

But he does talk. Only to the queen, only when absolutely no other soul is there to hear it. And as a plot twist on the last third of the book, it turns out that besides knowing how to move like other people, the mute is a frighteningly good vocal mimic. He can copy the queen's voice perfectly, which they have often used for her advantage. Looking back to every scene where the queen was heard but not seen - behind a curtain or a dressing screen, talking through a door, or just overheard singing to herself in the garden - there is no telling whether the protagonist was actually talking with the queen, or if she had that whole conversation with the mute. This would explain at least one incident where the queen was supposed to be in one place but somehow shows up somewhere else.

The protagonist never figures out what the mute's whole deal is. She never finds a satisfying answer despite of the queen clearly telling her that he is just as much a human of flesh and blood as either of them. The queen often sounds like she's lying when she's telling the truth, as she is now. The mute is completely, entirely human, just somewhat autistic and trans.

[huskersbooze]

Bambi

Alastor x Reader

Summary : Alastor returns from his outing one day, finding a guest lying on the floor, unconscious, in front of the Hazbin Hotel. Untrue to Alastor fashion, scaring most of the staff members, he decides to keep the fascinating creature in his broadcasting studio, and when she wakes up, she's forgotten everything, even her name. And when Alastor starts calling her nicknames in the mean time, he accidentally gives her one that she ends up growing attached to..

Warnings : N/A

Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader (Gn!Reader here, M!Reader here)

Additional tags : Fluff(?), mentions of amnesia, Alastor actually being nice?!

Word count : 1.06k

“Wonderful, just wonderful! You’re awake!”

A staticky voice drew you out of your thoughts. Surprised, you snapped your neck towards the sound, and a rather tall and slim figure was right at your face.

“Charming, I haven’t seen you around here before!”

You flinch as the figure leans closer, causing them to back away slightly.

“Who.. who are you?”

“Pleasure to meet you, dear, just a pleasure! I'm Alastor, the Radio Demon. And who might you be?"

"I..” You reply. “I don't know." 

He seems taken aback by your response slightly, but his smile doesn't falter. Instead he cocks his head to the side and blinks at you.

"What's your name?"

You stay quiet for a while until you give an uncertain head tilt back to him.

"I don't know.."

The grin still very much glued to his face, he leaned a bit closer to you, voice dropping to a more hushed tone.

"Darling, you don't remember your name, or you don't know your name?"

"I.. I don't remember." You fight the urge to start fidgeting with your hands, looking down to the ground as your memories become a hazy blur.

"You don't remember? Your name? Anything?"

"No.."

He doesn't seem to let his bright smile falter at that, although his expression shifts slightly towards curiosity.

"Quite the fascinating creature you are." He blinks a couple of times before he shifts to lean against what seemed to be a broadcasting panel, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Intriguing, really. Do you know what happened to your memory?"

"No.. not really."

"Well, that's unfortunate." The Radio Demon lets out a chuckle, static still laced in his laugh. "It seems you're in a bit of a dilemma, aren't you, Bambi?"

"Bambi.. I like it." You reply.

"Pardon me?" He raises his eyebrow at you, surprised at your statement.

"Bambi. I like the sound of that."

He laughs, a smile sounding from him again. There was something so unsettling yet alluring about him.

"That is rather fitting, I suppose. Bambi.. it's not a bad name." He thinks for a few seconds, stroking his chin as he considers. "And I suppose I'll need something to refer to you if you're staying. It fits you.."

"Staying?"

"Where do you think you are right now, darling? You certainly didn't expect me to leave you out there with your memories wiped with nowhere to go?"

"I.."

"Surely you hoped to stay for accommodation and basic necessities?" The Radio Demon asks, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "You've lost your memory after all, have you not?"

"Yes.." You hesitantly replied. Sure, you've lost your memory, but you weren't stupid enough to follow a random Radio Demon around without knowing him.

"I don't bite, Bambi. I can guarantee everyone at the hotel will treat you with the respect you deserve. And if they don't, all you need to do is let me know and I'll handle them for you."

"Hotel?"

"My, my, you really are a clueless little deer." Alastor uses a cane-typed staff to ruffle your hair. “So fragile and just the cutest little thing.”

“Thank.. you?”

Alastor tilts his head to the side curiously.

"It seems as if my teasing isn't upsetting you. How strange." He merely comments. “Oh, to understand your lost little mind.”

You carefully scan the room. It seemed to be a broadcasting studio, the room simply in red. Totally wasn’t sinister at all.

“So, what do you say, Bambi? We wouldn't mind providing you with all the necessities you need for now.”

“Necessities?”

Alastor chuckles again.

"Like, a bed, for example! Or, oh, I'm sure you'd want new clothes as well, right? And... if that's not enough, we do serve breakfast the next day. If you want food, that is..."

“Jambalaya..” You mutter, mostly to yourself as you’re lightly lost in thought.

Alastor’s grin widens a little, his ears perking slightly at the sudden mention of his favourite food.

"I can't say that I was expecting that, but... yes, we actually do have jambalaya on the menu for lunch. How'd you know that?"

“Oh, sorry.. I was just talking to myself. It’s my favourite food.” You stifle a blush as you let out an embarrassed smile.

“Ah, so you do remember some things, Bambi.” He raises his voice in curiosity, walking towards a trapdoor in the floor. “Come along, dear, let’s bring you to Charlie.”

“Charlie?”

“The owner of the hotel, and also the Princess of Hell.”

“We’re in hell?”

Alastor stops in his tracks as the two of you reach the hallways, finally out of Alastor’s broadcasting tower.

“After our whole conversation, you just noticed?”

“I.. I suppose so.”

“Oh, dear, you really are just one mysterious creature, aren't you? To think you just appeared here, with no memories of yourself, of the world, and even what you're doing here in Hell. You are truly fascinating..”

Alastor smirks, speaking in a lower voice. “Charlie will be delighted to have you here.”

After introductions and such, Charlie settles you into the room next to Alastor’s, opposite of Angel Dust, and introduces you to all the staff.

“So.. who are ya’ exactly?” The white spider raises a hand, slouching on the couch with a grey cat beside him. 

“This is our new guest!” Charlie introduces. “Alastor found her unconscious and offered to let her stay.”

“That doesn’t really answer the question, princess.” The grey cat speaks up, seemingly bored from the unoriginality of these introductions.

“Well, Husker, our little friend here has lost her memories.” Alastor speaks up from beside you, ruffling your hair with his staff-cane-thing once more. You still couldn’t make out what it was really supposed to be.

“Lost her memories?” Vaggie is the one to speak up this time. 

“Indeed. It seems our dear friend doesn't even remember her own name, let alone anything else.”

“Then what a’ we s’posed to refer to her as?” Angel questions.

“You could call me Bambi..” You mutter softly, gaze glued to your own feet.

“Works for me.” Husk shrugs.

“Sure.” Angel replies.

Vaggie and Niffty nods.

You feel the static beside you grow a bit louder, and as you shift your gaze, you see Alastor keeping his composure with his backs behind his back, his eyes on you as he gives you a soft, and genuine smile.

“You’re going to love it here, Bambi.” He says.

———/ End. /———

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor fluff #alastor x reader #alastor altruist #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel season 1 #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor angst

[kteezy997]

can i request timmy and reader being costars and they have to film a bit of a spicy scene where they’re supposed to make out and basically dry hump each other. he ends up accidentally making her cum in her flimsy panties under the skirt she‘s supposed to be wearing. he doesn’t notice at first but then he sees the signs, the way she tenses up, how her hips stutter, the more authentic moans than the ones before, the look in her eyes as he kisses along her neck like scripted and one tiny, barely audible whimper of his name. his real name. not his characters name. which surprises him but turns him on like crazy. he ends up getting hard and reader notices after she‘s down from her high. then after the scene they’re really awkward towards each other at first but they end up fucking

Perversion//t.c.

Warnings: smut obvi, degradation, little bit of praise, cursing, light spanking, smoking

There were worse things in life than having to do a sex scene with one of Hollywood’s most promising actors. Timothée Chalamet was often referred to as his generation’s Leonardo DiCaprio. But you had gotten to know him as just Timmy.

You had big crush on him, as did a lot of people that worked with him, probably. He had this way about him that made you feel seen and special. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t excited about your intimate scene with him today. It may be the only time you’d ever be so close to him. You had to remind yourself that it wasn’t real, though, and that there were cameras and crew members all around.

The director instructed you to get on the bed, lying on your back. Timmy stood nearby, shirtless with a pair of jeans on as he chatted with a producer about the scene. It was dark outside, and the night was dreamy.

The director called action and Timmy climbed on top of you, kissing you upon contact. The directions were to make out and touch each other all over, with some dry humping on his part.

It felt so good being under the weight of him. His lips were soft and gentle, but he devoured you like he was starving. Timmy nestled between your legs. The only barrier keeping him from you was your thin panties you had on underneath your skirt.

His crotch grazed against you over and over as the scene progressed. He moaned, but it was just acting. He grabbed your ass, and groped your boobs.

Your body tensed up. His actions and his sounds were consuming you. You were soaking your panties.

Timmy’s soft hair brushed your cheek as he kissed and nipped at your neck. You felt the wetness of his mouth, his warm breath, and his teeth ever so gently on your throat. He squeezed your thigh, and that was it.

Your hips stirred and you moaned, but it was real. “Oh, Timmy.” you whimpered softly, only for him to hear.

It was then that he looked at you, breaking character himself, and he realized what happened. It was real for you. He made you come without evening knowing. You moaned his name, not the name of the character he was playing.

“Cut!” called the director, “That was great guys. Let’s move on.”

You rested against the throw pillow under your head, and you steadied your breathing.

Timmy stayed still for a second, his hands rested on your hips.

You looked down and saw that he had a hard-on under his jeans.

Without saying a word, he got up and walked directly off the set.

………

Later, there was a dinner for the cast and crew. You and Timmy sat together as usual, as you had become friends since working on the movie together. But it was awkward between you now. You didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t want to make it any weirder than it already was.

He was very quiet, and fidgety, nothing like himself. He didn’t talk to hardly anyone. Especially you. You were so disappointed, so scared that you ruined everything. Fucking hormones. Fucking feelings.

You decided to try to give him a compliment, to break the ice. “You were great today, by the way. You always do an amazing job, Timmy.”

“Oh, I can kiss? Thanks.” Timmy snarled in sarcasm. He finished eating and off he went again.

His remark left you feeling even more uncomfortable than before, and you really wanted to make things right. You took it upon yourself to go find him in his dressing room and talk this out.

You knocked on his door, “Timmy? I’m sorry about earlier, okay? Let’s talk.” you begged.

You stood there a moment and just as you were convinced that he wasn’t going to answer, the door opened.

“Hey.” you said, “Can we just pretend that what happened earlier didn’t happen?”

He shook his head, “No, y/n, we can’t.” he answered sharply.

“Fuck,” you sighed, “I’m sorry. I should have controlled myself. But I thought we were friends. I was hoping we could look passed this."

“Well, it’s hard to be friends with someone after they give you a boner, and then all you can think about is fucking their brains out.” his eyes flicked up at you.

Your eyes widened, “What?”

Suddenly, he grabbed you by the back of your neck, forcing you into the room. His mouth was on yours before he slammed the door shut. It was a strange contrast to how he was in the scene. His lips were acting fast and harsh, "Take off your clothes." he ordered, his low voice hardly resembled his natural tone.

Fuck, you wanted this. You wanted him. You'd do anything he said. He let you go so he could lock the door and you began to undress like he told you to.

Once you were down to your bra and panties, he shoved you against a table, "You're still wearing the underwear you came inside of earlier?" In one movement, he unclasped your bra and pulled it off of you.

You let out a huff as he shoved you face down on the table. You whimpered as you felt the coldness of it on your nipples. You placed your hands on the tabletop, and your cheek rested on it.

"Little slut wants to be fucked by me so bad." he grumbled, yanking your panties down.

The air was cold on your soaked pussy. You shuddered at the sensation.

"Holy shit." Timmy said under his breath, he touched your clit, letting his fingers run along your labia.

You gasped as he entered a finger into your sensitive hole, "Fuck." you muttered. You shifted on your feet, feeling so needy, and so dirty.

"You're so desperate. So pathetic." he spat. He shoved in a second finger, pumping them in and out of you. A light smacking sound hit the air between you and him. He rubbed your clit softly, achingly slowly. He did it to tease you, to edge you, you knew it.

You'd take his insults, or whatever abuse he wanted to heed against you. You wanted him so badly. You could feel his clothed boner rubbing against your ass. His fingers were removed from you, and without warning, the palm of his hand came down fiercely on your ass cheek, leaving a stinging pain on your skin.

As you cried in ecstasy, you heard his zipper come undone, and he shoved his cock into you in a matter of seconds.

"I'll fuck you like the needy little whore you are." he growled, pumping his hips into you, his waist slapping your ass loudly.

You moaned and muttered small cries of pleasure. Once his fingers met your clit, as his cock rammed you, it was just a minute before you came. Your legs grew weak, but he held you up. You had no choice but to keep yourself on your feet.

Timmy grabbed a handful of your hair, he didn't pull, but he got you to raise up some. You looked ahead of you, seeing a mirror. Oh god, you could watch him fuck you!

You saw your own reflection as well, your hair was madly disheveled, your skin flushed with color, as well as the skin of your lover. Timmy let out an exhale, and you noticed some sweat on his neck. He didn't look into the mirror; his eyes were fixed on you. He'd alternate between fucking you roughly, and then giving you shallow pumps of his cock. He gave little tugs on your hair, but not enough to really hurt. He was being playful.

He smacked your ass again. The muscles in his torso flexing and bulging as he rocked into you. You felt like you were watching porn, but it was you that he was fucking, so you felt all the effects. It was incredible.

He pulled you closer, your back against his chest now. He let go of your hair and placed his hand on your throat. He pulled you into a kiss. Soft pumps into you now, but he was hitting you deep.

"mmm." you moaned into his mouth.

Timmy slipped his tongue in, letting it roll with yours in a heated French kiss. He palmed each of your tits roughly and nibbled on your bottom lip.

He pulled away from you after a moment, his hands left you, but his cock remained in your pussy. He tapped your hips lightly with his fingers, saying, "Fuck me, y/n."

You then used the little amount of strength you had left to throw your ass back against him. You whimpered loudly as his cock railed your insides. Your butt cheeks slapped his waistline, and you heard him chuckle lowly in satisfaction. He held your hips and started to pull you to him with each of your thrusts.

"Ah fuck, so good." he praised.

You weren't sure what turned you on more: his insults or encouragement.

His fingers met your lips, and you opened them. He wet his fingertips with your spit, then slid his fingers down the front of your body to find your clit again. You couldn't keep moving, so he took over for you, ramming his cock into you as he rubbed your clit. Your body shook with overstimulation, and you came again.

Timmy pulled his cock out of you, and turned you around, and put you on the table. He jerked his cock for a few seconds before his cum busted out in several ropes.

You gasped as his creamy seed collected into tiny puddles on your abdomen. You relaxed against the flatness of the table, trying to catch your breath, coming down from your high.

Timmy muttered some curse words under his breath before leaning over you, his hand planted right next to your head. He smirked and kissed you, moaning onto your lips.

He then walked over and picked up a t-shirt from somewhere in the room and tossed it on you.

You used the shirt to clean up his mess, and you heard the flick of a lighter. You looked over to him and watched as he lit a cigarette.

He closed his eyes, leaned his head back as he inhaled. He blew out the smoke and opened his eyes, catching your gaze.

"Those are bad for you, ya know." you said as you sat up on the table. You couldn't help but smirk at him as you thought about what had just occurred in the dressing room.

"I think you're worse for me." he joked, grinning as he took another drag.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfic

[angel5ofp0rn]

PT 2 / PT 4 😋

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

THIS ONE IS KINDA SHORT. MORE FLUFF. IM SORRY BUT U & JOHN R JUS TOO CUTE.

* haven’t proofread either bc i’m supposed 2 be working heh 🫣

"Have you always kept wearing it? …or did you recently put it back on?" You turn John’s hand over in yours, referring to the wedding band he still wears.

"Had it off for a bit." John says now, running his thumb across the ring, not bothering to try to fight you to get his hand back. "Didn't last long. Didn't feel right."

You nod, a small hum of agreement.

You remember threatening to toss your ring down the garbage disposal when the two of you fought.

Damn thing's still in the jewelry box.

John keeps his eyes on the telly while you two sit together on the couch, still absentmindedly watching whatever bright, flashy cartoon the kids insisted on before they went down for a nap.

"Why didn't it work out with anyone else?"

You frown.

“There wasn’t anyone else.” You answer simply.

How could there be anyone else after him?

You see the corner of his lip twitch into a smirk.

“No one to pass the time? No one night stands? Nothing?”

You shrug. “A few.”

Only three, to be exact. None of which were memorable.

The admission made John’s stomach sink.

The thought of you being with anyone else, even for a short period of time, made him feel something in his stomach that he didn't recognize.

More than anger. More than jealousy.

"What about you?” You snap him out of his thoughts, his nearly homicidal daydream. “No woman could take their eyes off of you before, even when I was on your arm. I imagine it got easier." You stretch out a bit, attempting to make your question seem more nonchalant.

John chuckled softly, remembering all the stares he would get. The way other women would look at him.

The way you'd get mad about it, sometimes you’d even cry.

He doesn't admit it to you now, but part of him misses those moments, misses how much you cared.

"Can't say I didn't have any opportunities."

You stop playing with his ring for a bit, now holding your palms together, viewing how much larger his hand is than yours. "But...?"

John didn't exactly want to admit the truth, but he didn't see the point in lying right now.

After all, you'd admitted to having a one night stand here and there, so it would only be fair to admit the same.

"The other women made my ego feel good, but… just wasn’t you, lovie. Ended up thinking ‘bout you at the end of the night, anyway."

You roll your eyes.

He laughs.

Then it’s silent, just for a moment.

Just enough for the words to sink in.

It was the same for you, a void that just couldn't be filled by anyone else.

"Y’know, one time I dropped the kids off at your place for the weekend, and I saw a little hickey on your neck... I cried the whole drive back home." You blush, feeling silly about it now.

"Did you now?" John grins slightly, but he also felt something when you mentioned seeing the hickey.

It was stupid of him to have let anyone else leave any kind of mark like that on himself. He should've known you'd notice.

Maybe he had wanted you to notice, but Christ, he didn’t want you to cry.

John's hand parts from yours now, rubbing his hand over his facial hair.

Your head is resting on your fist, your elbow on the back of the couch; fully turned towards John.

You took in all the details.

His beard starting to shift from brown to more salt-and-pepper over the past few years.

His broad body, still just as sexy and strong as it was when you first met, but a little softer.

More “dad”.

His is same dreamy blue eyes (we get it already) that he blessed the kids with.

That mixed with his English accent makes you weak in the knees.

How are you supposed to just let him go back home in the morning?

Hell, how are you supposed to let him sleep on the couch tonight?

“What’s buggin’ ya?”

You shake your head a bit. “Nothing. Just… thinking.”

"Thinkin’ of what, love?" He asks, leaning back into the cushions.

You chew your bottom lip.

John’s fingers brush a few stray locks away from your face, tucking them delicately behind your ear.

His hand cups the side of your face, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“No words, hm?”

“I… Should we really be doing this?”

“You wanna stop?” his thumb still brushes against your lower lip.

You shake your head ‘no’.

John has that familiar, stupid smirk on his face.

“I just don’t want to confuse the kids.”

“What’s confusing, hm? That mummy and daddy are happy together?” John counters.

Well, when he puts it that way…

“You’re happy, then?”

The moment you ask this, you now have his full focus. His eyes are on you, waiting for the answer to your question.

“Happier than I’ve been in, what… two years?” He answers, pulling you into his lap, his big strong arms wrapping around your waist.

You melt into him.

“Lemme come back to you, lovie.”

His husky voice is enough to make you agree to anything he says.

“I… need time, John. To think about things.”

“I’ll wait.” He nods.

His lips meet yours.

Of course you kiss him back. He has you.

You’re his.

He’s yours.

“Kissies?” Your youngest whispers to your oldest from the top of the stairs, looking down at mum and dad cuddled up on the couch.

“Kissies.” The oldest confirms with a brief head nod.

Nap time didn’t last long.

#THE KIDS LMFJSBAIAJAUSWN #fluffy fluff #call of duty #captain john price #john price #captain price #captain john price x reader #exhusband!price #price headcannon #headcanon #price headcanons #141 x reader #141 headcanons #task force 141 #captain price fluff #captain price smut #price x reader #cod mwii #soap mw2 #cod fluff #cod smut #cod x reader #soap cod #cod headcanons #cod x fem!reader #cod x you #x reader

[vixstarria]

Mark me as yours

This takes place immediately after and is interlinked with 'Missionary with the lights off' but from Astarion's rather than Tav's POV - check it out if you haven't already, the fics complement each other.

Soft sassy Astarion, F!Tav, Gale, minor appearances by other origin characters, Astarion POV

Fluff, humour, banter, pining, non-explicit sexual references

A day in camp in the life of Astarion. Features brooding, sewing, doing laundry, being dramatic, engaging in improper use of archmage of Waterdeep, reading erotica, and more!

Approx. 2,000 words

You frowned at the stuffed bear you held in your hands, weighing up your desire to showcase your skills against the absurdity of the task at hand.  

The whole thing was coming apart and needed to be washed and restuffed if you were to do this properly. What was inside, anyway? Fur..? You supposed you could go hunt something furry. Or maybe save yourself the time and just give Scratch a quick partial shave, he wouldn’t mind – the mutt lying at your feet was stupid enough to like you. To prefer you over anyone else, in fact.  

You reached down to give him a fond, absentminded pet.  

And then there was the matter of not letting it burn to a crisp the moment Karlach touched it. 

“Is there a flame ward enchantment on this..? Can you reapply it?” you asked Gale, who was nearby at his usual spot by the fire, concocting something edible for the rest of your group. 

“There is and I sure can,” he replied.  

Great. You had gotten yourself into a group project with the wizard to rescue a teddy bear.  

“Don’t tell me this is what Wyll was so concerned about earlier...” Tav had finally made it out of your tent and sat down next to you, looking somewhat less disheveled than how you’d left her.  

“The bag of holding finally tore. Naturally I was the only one competent enough to fix it.” 

You gestured with your thumb towards a towering pile of assorted crap that Wyll and Lae’zel were still sifting through: Lae’zel inspecting and setting aside any weapons and armour she deemed worth keeping, and Wyll sorting through an array of scrolls and potions no one was ever going to use, or would forget were in your possession if the need for them ever did arise.  

“Darling, this is your fault, you know,” you added. “Must you pick up everything?” 

“Karlach made me do it. Also I don’t know what you’re talking about, I am prudence and sensibility personified,” she said. 

“You’re uh... You’re also bleeding,” Gale said, pointing at her neck. 

A trail of blood had started running down from the puncture wounds, which must have reopened.  

Shit. 

Before you could reason yourself out of it, your instincts kicked in and you pressed your mouth against her neck, licking the blood off. By the gods, she actually leaned into you as you did that, not away. You glimpsed a guilty, sheepish smile she threw at Gale, as you pulled away.  

“Idiot... Here, apply pressure, I’ll get the amulet,” you said. 

“I’m the idiot?! You’re the one who ran off to resolve a sewing emergency, like a good little seamstress, before sorting me out!” 

You strode over to your tent, in part to grab the amulet of Silvanus, in part to discreetly tuck away the erection that had immediately started developing as soon as you tasted her blood.  

Hells, am I 239 or 15? you thought, annoyed with yourself.  

“An amulet? I was wondering why you’d stopped visiting me in the mornings...” you heard from Shadowheart. 

“We have a system,” Tav replied.  

“Clearly,” laughed Shadowheart. 

A scene from the night sprung up in your mind as you went about your day: 

She’d fallen asleep on your shoulder, half lying on you, her nose buried in your neck.  

It was... nice. Really nice. And you didn’t think this bizarre scenario would ever happen again.  

And yet, pleasant as it was, she still felt too far. You needed to feel her closer. Perhaps you were being greedy, but after all these years, why should you get anything less than exactly what you wanted? 

Carefully, very carefully lest she stir awake and leave, you rolled over onto your side, holding her against you.

She was still asleep. Good...   

You cautiously slipped lower and lower until your head was at her chest, delicately wrapping your arms around her torso. 

Then she stirred.  

Shit. 

Without waking, she sighed, drawing you into a tight embrace, clutching you against her chest, complete with throwing a leg over your hips to pull you even closer. 

You finally relaxed, your arms wrapped around her waist. 

Perfect... 

She felt so warm... She smelled of comfort. 

You could indulge in this for the night. You would wake up before she did anyway.  

You drifted away, lulled by the beating of her heart. 

You didn’t have any nightmares that night.  

“Is your boyfriend coming?” you heard Karlach somewhere in the distance.  

You cringed at the juvenile term. Still, you were curious how she would answer.  

“He’s on laundry duty,” she responded. “Just us gals today.” 

“So your idea of doing washing is to pawn everything off to me,” said Gale. 

“Vampires and running water, remember,” you said. “Also you don’t look like you’re exerting an awfully large amount of effort yourself... Although I must admit, this is ingenious.” A little flattery wouldn’t hurt.

Gale sat at a riverbank at a deeper section of the river. Some sheets and clothing were being tossed and spun in a small bubbling whirlpool within the water, together with foaming slivers of soap. 

��Surely few archmages possess such finesse and creativity?” you continued. 

Gale sighed and motioned for you to throw your bundle in as well, expanding the whirlpool.  

“Just toss your shirt in too, it's splattered with blood,” Gale added wearily.  

Her scent lingered on it. The last thing you wanted was to wash it off.

You pulled the shirt over your head and hurled it into the whirlpool.  

“Not Tav’s creative nailwork, I presume..?” Gale asked with a wince, looking at your back.  

“Nope” was all you said, as you pulled a book out from your pocket, making yourself comfortable on the bank. To his credit, the wizard did not probe further. 

‘Mark me as yours’ 

Those words had been echoing in your mind over and over all day.  

It couldn’t have meant anything.  

A little expression of some vampire fetishism finally poking through – you shouldn’t have expected any different from her, she did offer you her blood consistently, not even asking for anything in return.  

Still, you’d felt like something inside you might burst from your desire and thrill when you heard those words.   

And then everything that followed after... 

You had actually lost yourself for a short while. Not dissociated and detached. Lost yourself. In bliss. In the scent of her skin, in the sounds of her need for you, in the sensation of her blood merging with yours and flowing through your veins. 

And now she was walking around somewhere, with telltale bitemarks on her neck for all the world to see. Scandalous... 

No, it couldn’t have meant anything.  

‘Mark me as yours’ 

Still... What a pleasant little fantasy... 

‘Yours’ 

“You’ve been smiling at that page for ten minutes straight now,” Gale’s voice snapped you out of your musings.  

“It’s my favourite page,” you retorted. 

“What’s it about?” he asked snidely after a short pause.  

“I have no idea,” you confessed, begrudgingly, snapping the book shut. If the wizard knew what was best for him, he would abstain from any further comments.  

“She’s quite fond of you,” Gale said sombrely after another pause.  

“Is this about to turn into one of those ‘You break her heart – I'll break your face’ talks?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“Oh gods no,” Gale laughed. "No, I would go straight to incineration... You just strike me as the type that needs to have the obvious spelled out for them.” 

“I am not entering this type of discourse with someone who’s presently washing my spend off my bed sheets,” you said, laying back and shutting your eyes, to bask in the sun. No answer followed. 

Not even a minute had passed when a shadow fell over you.  

Odd, you thought. There hadn’t been a single cloud in the sky. 

You opened your eyes to see a giant water bubble hovering a few meters above you. Was that... a bedsheet floating in the middle..? 

Worth it, you thought just as the undulating bubble spilt and crashed over you.  

You coughed and spat, trying to untangle yourself from the sheet, as the unleashed torrent nearly swept you off the bank. And yet, above all else, you found yourself curious. 

The water had no longer been running as part of the river, true, but given its sheer volume and the velocity at which it hit you, it should have hurt more than merely your pride.  

You made it to the edge of the bank, and cautiously dipped a finger in.

Nothing...

You proceeded to submerge your hand, then your entire forearm, to your elbow. 

Nothing.  

Of all things... Why this? Why not your reflection? Why not the blood craving? Oh well. Beggars, choosers... 

You were laughing.  

“This tadpole,” you turned and shouted at Gale, unabashedly stripping yourself of your pants, as Gale turned away, muttering something about going blind, “is the best thing that’s happened to me in centuries!” 

The best? Maybe second best? It had some tight competition, but you supposed nothing would have been possible without it, so it reigned supreme. 

You leaped into the river, diving and letting the gentle current carry you downstream for a while.  

You knew what you would be doing later that evening with her.  

“What have you got there?”  

She slid onto your lap like a cat that refused to take ‘no’ for an answer as it sought attention. You had been idling away your time by your tent, with some pulp you had picked up earlier. The rest of the group had been drinking and roasting something at the campfire.  

“Trash. Disappointingly boring trash, this time,” you answered. 

“No pulsating flesh tunnels in this one?” 

“Alas... There were not one but two mentions of ‘velvet-wrapped steel’ however, and plenty of ‘sword-sheathing’.” 

“To the hilt?” 

“Is there any other way?” 

“Wouldn’t want to sheathe it only partially, I suppose...” she mused. “Come join us. We found some half-decent wine. And you don’t have to be alone all the time, you know.” 

“Spare me, I’ve had enough of Gale’s lectures and Wyll’s tales for the day. And besides, ugh, all those chewing noises!” You made a gagging sound. 

None of them want me there. 

“Oh don’t be such a delicate princess,” she rolled her eyes. “How’s this: it’s our joint meal time. It would be rude and completely unfair to exclude anyone. You should sit down with everyone, bite down on my wrist and make a great deal of slurping.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

Delightful. Simply delightful. 

“It will be funny!” 

“I fear you might be the only one laughing, darling.” 

That is hilarious, I can just imagine Gale squealing or getting sick. 

“Is there anyone else you’d care to make laugh?” she asked with a slight upturn of her lips. 

Not in the least. 

“I could die again knowing I have accomplished something if I ever make Lae’zel laugh. But perish the thought – I am perfectly happy right here with my literature.” 

“Well, if you don’t want to join the group, perhaps I will stay and you can...” She snatched the book from your hands and tossed it aside, leaning in and bringing her lips up to your ear. “...Release your kraken in my field of rose petals,” she purred in a sultry voice. 

“Stop,” you choked back a snicker.  

“Get tangled up in my beef curtains?” she continued with the same tone. 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“Sink your meat shaft in my cream tart!” she persevered.  

“By the gods, woman, I am never having sex with your again.” 

“Suckle the nectar from my weeping core!” 

“Alright, fine, I’ll go, anything is better than this.” You got up, pushing her off your lap. 

“Taste my forbidden, oozing fruit, Astarion!” she cried out from the ground behind you as you covered your ears and shouted “LALALALA”, making your way towards the campfire. 

You would endure the prattle of your companions.  

Then you would take her for a moonlit swim in the river.  

Then you would see if she might spend the whole night in your arms again.  

Perhaps she could sleep in your shirt and leave her scent on it again – it was foolish to sleep completely in the nude out in the wild after all, what if there were intruders? 

Everything was going according to plan, you reminded yourself.  

~~~~~

Next in series - Down by the river

Series master list

AO3

Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny

Also @spacebarbarianweird - you haven't asked for a tag but sounded interested

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion x reader #astarion POV #gale dekarios #bloodweave more like beefwave #archmage of waterdeep as a washing machine #the narrator may be somewhat unreliable #reflections on author's own inventory management

[fredwkong]

Himbo Maker: Misha

Misha was an Egirl: a European Guy In Real Life. He would do his makeup, put on fake eyelashes, a wig, and a pair of pink headphones with kitty cat ears, and stream video games online. He loved to troll new viewers by spending an hour or so doing a breathy, feminine voice, and then suddenly hit them with his natural Baltic baritone. The way the chat went crazy made it worth it every time.

The whole game was helped by how petit and curvy Misha had always been. Even in his twenties, he still had a soft, almost girlish body and stood at most of other guys’ sternums. Too bad he wasn’t a trans girl, or at least a gay boy, he sometimes thought, looking at his body in the mirror. Gay guys were supposed to go for little guys who looked like him.

One evening, Misha was just starting his stream when some user started acting really weird in chat. He had a username that almost seemed familiar to Misha, but the guy he was thinking of had always been polite and given insightful comments on Misha’s gaming. This guy’s messages were full of typos, and he couldn’t seem to stop talking about his muscles.

Misha was just about to ban the guy when an alert sounded: Misha’s charming, girly laugh, which indicated a user had just donated a hefty sum. Of course, it was this annoying brodude.

“Uh,” said Misha, almost forgetting to put on his femmy voice, “He says, “Bro, this guy liek wants to chat wiht u on stream.” And there’s a link in the donation.”

Clicking the link, Misha found himself looking at a chat website he’d never seen before. “Hold on, let me share my screen,” he simpered, sharing the chat window. Somehow, his usual screen name was already in the bar. It must have populated from his stream.

Mish-kittycat: Like, heyoooo! You okay with being on stream with me? (✿◠‿◠)

Himbo_mkr: No way, bruh! I love meeting new bros. Like, hi stream!

Misha was a bit offended that this chat partner would refer to him as a “bro.” But stream chat seemed interested, so he thought it could be worth a few minutes to humour the donater. It had been a fair amount of money.

Mish-kittycat: What do you want to talk about UwU

Himbo_mkr: Bro, you know that all I ever talk about are my sick gains and going out with guys, lmao

Okay, so this was a troll. They probably wanted to get Misha banned for lewdness or something. Still, at least it was original that the troll character was a gay guy. He rolled his eyes at the stream and said, out loud in his girl voice, “Looks like someone got mad enough to pay to speak with all this.” He gestured down his slim body in tonight’s outfit, a stereotypical Japanese maid costume.

Himbo_mkr: Huhuhu, bro, you clicked on the link. Didn’t force you to do it.

Misha froze. Of course the troll was watching the stream. “Heh, I don’t let meatheaded bullies boss me around,” he chirped, trying to save face.

Himbo_mkr: You sure? You sure like it when your chat bosses you around, bro.

Now this guy was just lying. Misha scowled, even though he knew the expression would make his foundation crack unattractively. “This is a really weird way to bully someone.” He looked at the stream chat, waiting for his subscribers to back him up.

But the character of the chat seemed to have changed. No, they had always been bossy, Misha suddenly remembered. They would tell Misha how to play his games all the time while he pretended to struggle. It was a key part of the dynamic of his channel that chat bossed him around, and right now they were telling him to go back to chatting with this guy. One guy even messaged, “No more talking, kitty. You’re only allowed to write in the chat.” Misha gave the camera a plaintive look, but listened. He always listened to his chat.

Mish-kittycat: So maybe you’re right about that one thing, but coming in here being rude is totally uncool (งᓀ‸ᓂ)ง

Himbo_mkr: Bro, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I was just tryna compliment you on your sick bis, dude.

Misha cocked his head, confused. He was the opposite of buff, that was why he was so good at dressing as a girl. But as he continued to think about it, he remembered all the hours he spent working on his arms. He kept a set of weights next to his bedroom door, and he did bicep curls to failure every time he went through the doorway. Yeah, his biceps were his pride and joy, and they were usually how he showed off his manliness when he revealed his deep voice and accent.

A tip came in. “Flex for us, kitty,” commanded the text-to-speech voice. With a smirk, Misha lifted up one of his arms, feeling it stretch the sleeve of his maid costume as the veins popped. Too bad the rest of his body hadn’t followed his arms and gotten bulky.

Himbo_mkr: We’re all waiting for you to drop your lifting routine, bro! You’ve been totally blowing up.

Misha blushed at the flattery. His physique wasn’t all that impressive. Sure, now that he thought about it, he had been really hitting the weights a lot and eating right. In fact, his room seemed to be full of lifting clothes and supplements as he looked around. But that was because some of his subscribers kept telling him to get to the gym and hit his macros. It had actually been really freeing to just let people pay to tell him what to do on his fitness journey. And it was paying off! Misha definitely couldn’t pass for a girl these days, which was why the channel had changed to be more about doing stuff in-game for the highest bidders.

The maid costume barely wrapped around Misha’s broad pecs, and the garters had torn when he’d tried to pull them up his thick thighs. Sure, it had been funny when the stream started and the chat had gotten Misha to show off his shoulder raises while dressed in a little maid skirt, but the polyester was really starting to chafe on his smooth muscles. It was a relief when a tip rolled in while Misha flexed and said “Kitty, wear comfy clothes.” The chat oooohed and aaaahed as Misha shucked the maid costume, showing off his bulky chest, and pulled on his favourite comfy shirt instead. Sure, it had some tears and stuff, but as a masculine guy, Misha wasn’t worried about dressing up fancy or anything.

The guy whose chat Misha was streaming had been quiet, so Misha hopped back over and sent another message.

Mish-kittyhunk: Thanks man! It’s all about trusting the process.

Himbo_mkr: I can tell that you trust people, bro! You’re like a puppy lmao.

Well, Misha thought, maybe he did like getting bossed around in chat, but it wasn’t like he trusted everyone blindly! Okay, well, maybe he did tend to stop to help people on the road and then lose his wallet a lot. They looked like they needed help! And maybe he did sometimes click on links that meant he needed to take his phone to the store for them to fix, but so did everyone else!

Looking at the chat, who were all laughing about Misha being a totally trusting puppy, Misha had to finally agree. That was why one of his subscribers had gotten him this headset with floppy dog ears on it, after all.

Mish-puphunk: Haha, you got me, dude! That’s why I clicked on this link, too XD

Himbo_mkr: It’s okay, bro. Lots of gay hunks are pretty dumb, it just adds to that himbo appeal.

This time this guy was definitely making stuff up. Misha was totally straight, he just didn’t do well with girls. Well, that and being a submissive hunk online mostly attracted a gay male fanbase. And, well, now that he thought about it, when was the last time Misha had really thought about a girl? Like, maybe if it was a domme? But no, even then, Misha would really prefer a guy to be involved at some point. This guy was probably right, Misha was gay.

It was super hard to think. There was a reason that Misha preferred to let chat do the thinking for him. Even before he realised how much he loved to listen when men told him what to do, Misha had never been much of a deep thinker. That was why most of the stuff in his room was gym gear, gaming stuff, or whatever his subscribers bought for him. Lately, they had been really loving when Misha wore even less clothes and showed off more of his growing body, and Misha was happy to oblige as long as they kept telling him what to do!

Mish-puphunk: Lol I guess you’re right! I just wanna give sirs what they want

Himbo_mkr: Bro, I totally get why you love pup play so much. You just love being obedient and dumb and empty lmao. You, like, pretty much live in your mask these days.

A pup mask…Misha was pretty sure one of his subscribers had sent him one of those once, but it had been really confusing to put on and he’d only worn it once. No, wait, that wasn’t right. Misha was such a ditz! He’d loved the experience of putting on the pup mask and letting himself be a dumb pup for his chat. And chat had loved sending in tips to give him commands like “sit,” “roll over,” and “stick a tail in your hole.”

It had been so popular that the subscribers had told Misha to make it a weekly thing, then a biweekly thing, and by now it had pretty much become what Misha did during his streams. While chatting with this guy had been fun, Misha really wanted to get on with the stream and mask up. He opened his mouth to tell the viewers that, but then remembered that he had been ordered not to talk. Too bad, chat would only hear his deep, resonant voice if they ordered him to bark after he put on his mask.

Mish-puphunk: Okay dude, I gotta go be a good dumb pup now.

Himbo_mkr: Got it, bruh! You got a bunch of hunky doms to please by being a good pup slut!

Chat cheered as Misha stopped streaming the chat window and winked at the camera. An especially hung dom who loved to tip had won the bid war last night to decide what Misha wore, so Misha fondled the straps of his leather harness as he got up to grab his mask. He wondered what his chat full of muscular, horny himbo doms would have him do today.

Misha slipped on the mask and let his mind go blank.

#male transformation #mental change #male tf #muscle tf #reality change #dumber tf #himbofication #himbo maker #pup tf #sub tf #all fwkong

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hello! Could you please write full headcanons on the M6 getting home one day to find MC dead? They're not actually dead, their body is just vacant after a spell went horribly wrong, but M6 have no way of knowing that.

Thank you!

The Arcana HCs: When M6 think MC is dead

~ @arson-the-ace oh, this. this is going to hurt, isn't it. ~

CW for descriptions of panic attacks, bodies that seem dead, references to past trauma, and your beloved in lots of pain

-- to set the scene --

It was supposed to be an experiment, to see if it was possible to put your body in a preserved or frozen state when you left it behind to visit the magical realms. You did not expect the result to be your body looking and acting like a fresh corpse, or for the spell to have a three hour cooldown time before you could reinhabit it. Your incorporeal self sighs and sits next to your body, resigned to the boredom of waiting it out.

Until, minutes later, the door opens and your beloved walks in, and you have no way of telling them what happened.

Julian

Already fears the worst as soon as he sees you sprawled on the floor - his plague doctor experience with visiting the sick has his instincts fine-tuned for recognizing an unrecoverable patient

Trips over himself in his scramble to get to you and gets a nasty bump on his knee, but doesn't register a thing because he's finally reached for you and he's looking for a sign of life

A pulse. An exhale. The twitch of your eyes moving below your eyelids, anything, anything to tell him that you can be saved

He rolls you onto your back and tries to give you CPR, but he's breaking down too much already for any of it to be effective

Chest compressions turn into him ripping his gloves off, trying to find any of the warmth you've shared with him

Mouth-to-mouth turns into a choked sob against your cold cheek

He can't bring himself to keep going. Each failed attempt at reviving you gets his hopes up only to rip them to shreds again

He doesn't want to move forward. He doesn't want to go ahead with laying you to rest. He doesn't want to leave this drafty wooden floor, without a blanket or a pillow to keep you comfortable

And he can't stand up

He sits cross-legged on the floor, lifting your head onto his lap and laying his coat over you in lieu of a quilt

You watch him droop over your body, shivering in the drafty room without his layers, voice catching and breaking on quiet sobs as he sings you the lullaby his parents sang him before the shipwreck

By the time your eyes flutter open, his voice is gone

He's happy to see you - he's so, so happy to see you, but he keeps hovering over you like he never knows if you're about to collapse for good next time

If you love him, you'll wait a long, long time to do any more magic

Asra

They thought you were playing some kind of game, at first

He walked into the upstairs apartment to see you sprawled on the floor and teasingly called out your name, playfully asking what new mischief you were up to as he hung up his coat

And then you didn't answer them

As soon as he felt that old dread seize his stomach, he was hurrying across the room and asking you what was wrong

They can feel their own body growing cold as they touch your frozen one, pressing a trembling hand to your chest in search of the heartbeat they moved heaven and hell to give you

He's panicking, breaths coming quick and short. The motions of his arms trying to pull you closer to him are far too similar to his frantic digging in the ash filled sands of the Lazaret

They don't know what's worse - the images flashing across their eyes of your charred bone fragments splintering in their bleeding fingers, or your lifeless face lying heavy against their knees

His heart can't take it. The tears give way to an ongoing numb tremor. He places a preservation spell on your body as his last conscious thought before he lies down next to you on the floor

They put their arm under your limp neck and cuddle up to you like it's just another day's end, just another snuggle before sleep while they lay their head down on your icy, silent chest

You watch him hold your body in shock. He seems like he's caught between worlds, alternating between staring at your unmoving stomach while his shaky tears land and pool on your shirt

And reflexively whispering apologies as they mop up their tears with their sleeve, asking if they're squeezing you too tightly

He's quick to check your memories when you wake up, but no matter how healthy you are, he can't leave your side for a week

Nadia

Her intuition is telling her something is wrong as soon as she's approaching her chambers. Seeing you on the ground is her worst nightmare coming true

You're cold to the touch. You don't respond to her voice. You don't respond ... at all. She needs help, you need help, you need help now, she's going to get you everything you need, just hang on

She lifts you into her bed, and the chilly deadweight of your body is more than she can take. When she throws open the door and yells for a doctor, every servant in earshot hears her panicked sobs

She hasn't had a panic attack like this in years

Servants rush in and out in a blur, hurried murmurs and muffled exclamations fading into the background. She feels like she's been plunged underwater, unable to scream as her lungs fill with salt

She sits by your side with your hand in both of hers, clinging to the only part of you she's allowed to touch while the closest physician pokes and prods at your lifeless body. She can't see you anymore

And everyone else? They can't see their Countess at all

They see a broken-hearted woman holding steadfast to her lover's limp hand, breaths jagged and unpredictable as she wails through her teeth. Mercifully, her hair comes undone and hides her wrenched face and streaming tears behind a curtain of purple

You woke her, first from her dreams, then from her apathy, and finally from her loneliness. Watching you succumb to a sleep far stronger than the one that trapped her is wretched beyond words

When you finally stir awake, she refuses to leave your side as the doctors work to ensure that your vitals are stable and to try to figure out what happened and if there are any repercussions

She's glad you're back, but she can't stop herself from waking you in the middle of the night to make sure you're just sleeping

Muriel

He's already convinced of the worst before he can prove it

He knows what a body collapsed in sudden death looks like. He's seen them countless times on the sand of the Coliseum floor, slaughtered at his own shackled hands, but now it's you

Now it's the only person he trusted to never leave his side

He can't register Inanna beginning to whine and pace, he can't register the sounds of the forest outside, he can't register the fire slowly burning down and out in the back of the hut

A lifetime of trained alertness, muted, because his subconscious has decided it can't take paying attention to a world that doesn't have you in it any more

He's finally able to move again when he takes his first shuddering breath in minutes, and he begins to walk and reach towards you in the vague hope that all is not as it seems

But that's when some small, sick part of his brain starts up its tiny chant that he deserves this, that this is the effect of giving in to your misguided desire for his touch, that this is somehow his doing

But the larger part of him, the part of him that loves you and aches for you and is dedicated to you, leans past the furious pain and lifts your head and shoulders off of the floor, enough so he can lower his head and listen for a heartbeat, feel for breath on his cheek

And there isn't any. Your body is as still and lifeless as his hope for something better, and he can't breathe. He can't breathe, and he's curled up in a ball with you in his arms, and he can't breathe

It takes a few hours before he can master his thoughts enough to think. This has happened before, and it was possible for you to come back. Asra, he has to bring you to Asra, he'll give anything

You wake up as he's carrying you through the woods, and it's the first time you've seen his body go so completely weak with relief

Portia

At first, she thinks you're feeling a little silly and sleeping on the floor just to mess with Pepi. Though the way you're lying, you almost look like you've collapsed. That can't be comfortable

It's when she crouches down to wake you up that she can tell something's wrong. Your shoulder is cold - way too cold

She's already got tears running down her face, but never in her life has she let her sadness stop her from caring for those she loves. She shakes you, back and forth, calling your name over and over

At some point she realizes that it's too late, there's nothing she can do, and that's when she starts wracking her brain for someone who can do something. Anything. She's not giving up on you

She's small, but she's strong and she's in pain. She lifts your body and begins to stumble through the Palace garden with you. She leans into the volume of her wails, using them to call for help

First through the gardens, then through the Palace halls, unable to recognize the blurry faces through her tears, but determinedly blubbering out what's happened and how she needs help for you

When someone who might have been the Countess informs her that the physician is out, she walks out the front gates of the Palace. Her ears are deaf to the offer of a carriage into town

Vesuvia still remembers its plague. It has never before heard cries as anguished as the ones Portia sent echoing down the canals as she ran and stumbled with your body to Mazelinka's house

Mazlinka will be there. Ilya will be there. They both know plenty about medicine, they should be able to help, just hang on. Hang on, she tells your cold body, hang on for me

You stir awake just as she crosses the threshold into the basement dwelling, and the emotions she feels are so overwhelming that she almost punches you for scaring her. She can't stop crying

Lucio

When he walks into the room in the inn after his trip to the outhouse, he avoids the sinking feeling in his gut by telling himself you're just napping. On the floor. Without moving

And then he can't take the way his conscience is nagging at him, so he snaps and (not unkindly, but brashly) tells you to get up and get moving already, we're wasting daylight!

But you don't move. You don't give him a disapproving look. You don't grumble when he shakes your shoulder, or open your eyes when he pats your cheek, or smile when you hear your name

He doesn't understand. You're brave, you're strong, you're loving, you're good, you're full of goodness and you're better than anything he ever deserved after what you suffered because of him

Because of ... him

This must be his fault. This must be his actions catching up with him. This must be the fallout of all those rash deals, some forgotten deity must have run out of patience and come to collect

Of course this would happen. It would take a hundred lifetimes to sift through the pile of selfish bargains, of course he missed one, of course he failed to make up for his past deeds, of course ...

Of course an oversight like that would cost him you

But he's not going to let this go. You deserve better. He hauls you into his arms, ignoring the way he chokes at your dangling limbs, and rushes out of the inn and into the deep, deep woods beyond

He screams and cries and yells and threatens and pleads and begs until his voice falls silent and he can taste blood in his throat

He calls out to any angry being listening to tell him, tell him what this is in payment for, tell him what he can put on the bargaining table that would pay back the debt that demanded your soul

You wake up before he can do anything rash, but he squeezes you in his sleep now, as if to challenge any more soul thieves

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

A Phil update! For those who were asking.

I mentioned before that Phil works for a call centre. I'm pretty sure I've also made it clear by now that Phil's spectacular weirdness, coupled with his hatred of capitalism, means he's been mentally checked out of that job for a while now. His main focus has been his degree for the past year anyway. The only reason he's stayed is because Phil has a history of destructive impulsivity that he's been actively working on, so he didn't want to just walk out.

So there we are, scene set. Last week, he phones my husband.

"A weird thing happened in work," he tells Steff. "My manager called me into the office for a chat, but... I think it was weird? I'm pretty sure it was weird."

"Tell me what happened, Phil," says Steff.

***

Here's the story:

Phil goes into the office, and the manager fixes him with a Kind Smile.

"Phil," the Manager says hesitantly. "Do you... like working here?"

"...um," says Phil, distantly aware after Many Conversations with Exasperated Friends that the correct answer to your boss is 'yes', but physically incapable of lying. "Well. I. Um."

"Because," the manager says awkwardly. "Look, you - it's okay."

"Is it?" Phil asks vaguely.

"It's okay," the manager repeats. "I know you don't like working here. This isn't what you want to do. You don't want to stay."

"No," Phil agrees, relieved they are on the same page.

"Listen," the manager says, in an agony of awkwardness. "Look, Phil... you're such a nice guy. Just... I'll write you the best reference. But you can just... go, if you want. You can... go back to your desk and log out and just... leave."

"...okay," says Phil. And he leaves.

***

So he tells this story to Steff, who is, obviously, BAFFLED.

"Okay," says Steff. "Right. Phil. Phil what the fuck did you do."

"Nothing!" Phil protests. "I didn't do anything!"

"Okay," Steff says again, changing tack. "Phil. What have you done recently that a capitalist would disapprove of?"

"Oh," says Phil. "It's probably because I gave that old woman £200 of company money."

"...go on," Steff says wearily.

***

Here's the story:

This sweet old woman rings and says her phone was down for a couple of days. She's calling to complain, because it meant she couldn't contact her relatives, and she felt lonely.

"I'm so sorry," says Phil. "Do you want some money?"

("First question," says Steff. "Were you supposed to give any money at all for that?"

"...no," says Phil.)

So this old woman is like "Uh... yes please? Okay?"

"Alright!" says Phil cheerfully. "Let's see how much I can give you."

("Second question," says Steff. "Were you allowed to give out £200 to anyone?"

"Oh, no," says Phil. "They made it really difficult, actually, it took ages.")

"Ah," Phil tells this old lady. "I can only give you £50. Let's try that."

"I... thank you," says this old lady, already in the grip of the Heady Bewilderment that descends on everyone who speaks to Phil for a bit. "That's very generous."

"It's gone through!" says Phil happily. "There we are. I wonder if it'll let me do it again?"

"Um," says the old lady, who is starting to sense that she's dealing with a maverick doing something he shouldn't.

("Third question," says Steff. "Did she ask for more at any point?"

"Um... no," says Phil.)

"It worked!" Phil says brightly. "Do you want me to do it again? I think it'll let me."

"...okay," this old lady says, strangled. "Thank you."

"No problem," says Phil helpfully. "It's done it, I think. Shall we do one more?"

"Yes please," says this old woman, who is now convinced she's either called the wrong number or is speaking to an amenable faerie one mustn't refuse.

Phil tries again. It goes through.

...

"Do you think," Steff asks, "that this might have been a fireable offence?"

"I suppose?" Phil says dubiously. "The company has loads of money though, I don't see why."

"...no, of course you don't," Steff agrees.

"Anyway," Phil says. "I think I left on a good note. But that might have been weird, too."

"What did you do," Steff sighs.

"Well, I packed up my desk," says Phil. "And then this guy turned up who was supposed to give me some training. And I told him that I was leaving so it wasn't necessary, and then he said that he had to give the training-"

"You did the training, didn't you," says Steff.

"I did the training," says Phil.

#vote for phil #long post

[fayes-fics]

Anthony + regency + newlyweds, reader and anthony absolutely hate each other with a passion any kink tbh

Kinktober 2023: Anthony + Hate Sex

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Paring: Anthony Bridgeton x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, arranged marriage, newlyweds, loss of female virginity, hate sex, smidge of innocence/corruption kink, dose of breeding kink, vaginal sex, creampie.

Author’s note: hi nonny 🫶 So I went with hate sex and threw in a little touch of breeding kink as well, cos I got another ask for it, and damn, it seems to be popular. So there tumblr you get two Anthony breeding kinks in a row - one modern, one Regency. This is not a drabble lol. Enjoy! 😁🧡

His wedding ring is cold against your face as he holds your jaw, inspecting your appearance up close. 

“Pleasing countenance,” he opines casually; you feel vaguely like livestock being inspected before purchase at market.

How you can hate and desire someone so much and in equal measure is confounding. Married to Viscount Bridgerton in a business deal brokered by your opportunistic father, you only set eyes upon him as you walked up the church aisle earlier today. And god in heaven if your body didn't want to melt on the spot instantly. So very handsome with depthless brown eyes. Well, until he opened his braggard mouth. Then, you wanted to scream as much as you wanted to throw yourself at him. 

Now, here you are. Your wedding night. Your marital bedroom. Your new husband. He perfunctorily ordered you to strip naked as he did the same. Your eyes bulge at the sight of him without clothing. Particularly an angry, large protuberance he referred to as his cock, which right now is branding your belly, leaving a sticky streak that, for some strange reason, you yearn to taste.

He steps away and rounds behind you, spanking a hand across your bottom cheek that makes you squeak, startled. 

“Appealing shape. Good child-bearing hips,” Anthony assesses cooly.

You have to tamp down an urge to swing back and clock him in the jaw. The only reason you don't is the flood of pleasure in your limbic system as your bum tingles with his handprint, inner thighs now damp.

He circles back in front of you as you square your jaw and meet his scrutinising eye fiercely. You gasp loudly as a finger quests unexpectedly between your legs, into your damp curls and prods your body somewhere you have never been touched. 

“A maiden, indeed, as promised.”

As he withdraws, you are as much afire as you are indignant.

“If I pass your grade…,” you sneer behind gritted teeth, “…I do suppose there is the matter of the marital act to get over and done with.”

“You know of it?” he looks surprised, but not unpleasantly so, a gravelly hitch in his voice.

“Somewhat,” you bluster, defensive. “I know it is my duty; it is necessary to create children, and I may not enjoy it.”

“True, true and not true,” he argues back. A warm hand shoots out suddenly to cup your breast, making you inhale sharply. “You will love it,” he swaggers. 

And again, even as you press into the thumb swiping your nipple, your hatred for his conceit flares hot in your throat, indignation he can be so… just so… HIM.  

But then he leans in and kisses you. An all-consuming invasion of your mouth and senses that leaves you breathless, plundered, besmirched, forever changed. And practically begging for more, having to bite the tongue he teased to stop yourself from voicing it. 

As he pulls away, you see a brief maelstrom in his eyes, a flash of vulnerability, as if he is also taken aback, before he turns his expression flinty.

“Get on the bed and open your legs wide,” he orders curtly. “We shall indeed get this done. As much as you may hate me, and I dislike the circumstances.”

“Why dislike?” you ask, genuinely intrigued, even as you do as you are told, taking your place, lying with your legs out wide flat on the bedding.

“Not like that,” he sighs impatiently, tapping your feet upwards so your knees are bent. “And to answer your question, while I did not marry for love, I do wish for at least a degree of cordiality with my Viscountess,” he adds with a regret-filled sigh, clambering onto the bed.

“I can be cordial,” you counter as he climbs over you, that large cock bobbing as he does so, a lump in your throat at the sight. 

He stills, and a smirk takes over his entire face.

“Prove it,” he challenges huskily, raising an eyebrow, your body ripening at his unanticipatedly playful tone.

“You are handsome,” you concede, trying your best not to show how flustered you are as he slowly presses his naked body into yours, bearing you down into the plush mattress. So much heat and warm skin, the soft dark hair on his chest teasing your puffy nipples.

“Go on…” he rumbles, a vibration in your ribcage as he does.

“I'm sure our children would be intelligent as well as beautiful,” you offer, giving your honest assessment.

“Would they now…” his voice is like dark velvet as his lips delicately trace your neck, then suck insistently on a spot that makes you stumble, a ripple of pleasure running down your limbs.

“A… And… And when you are not speaking, I actually think I could tolerate you,” you admit as his hot throat kisses cause a warmth spreading inside like a conflagration.

“I won't speak then,” he chuckles richly. “I will however…” there is a pause as he passes his cock over the apex of your thighs, and your mouth falls open in shock at a sharp, thrilling stab, “...make you scream my name.”

You stare up at the man hovering over you, completely enthralled by him—his power, his beauty, his mischief, and yes, his arrogance. A loop of desire and dislike as never-ending and strong as the shiny bands you both now wear on your fingers.

“Prove it,” your cutting, parroted response tumbles from your lips unbidden. 

The passion and shock painted across his face make you melt inside like toffee—viscous and sweet.

“Oh, Viscountess, yesss,” he purrs sibilant. “That’s the spirit.”

He kisses you again, all breathtaking tongue and teeth, and this time, you push up into him, canting your body off the bed. He growls as you do, his touch turning edgier and rougher. Hands loop around your thighs and drag you down the bed.

“Any ache will be fleeting,” he assures, as butterfly wings beat under your ribs.

You gasp at a blunt pressure, followed by a twinge of pain. You are speechless as his cock slides into your body, your toes curling, your fingers wrapping around his flexing biceps as your insides stretch so wide to accommodate him. He stills, allowing you time to process the rush of stimuli, bussing a light kiss on your temple as you grapple with the fullness, entirely novel but not at all unpleasant. Then he begins to move slowly within you, a gentle rock of his hips as you whimper and grasp his arms tighter, needing an anchor.

“This is what you will enjoy every night,” he declares as he surges into you with a force that makes you pant and stare at him wide-eyed.

“Every night?! N-Not just one?!” you fight out, words garbled, overwhelmed, almost incapable of speech.

“No, no. We shall do this every night until you are with child,” his tone prideful and possessive; he leans down and bites your earlobe, his speech gusting humid over your cheek. “And even then, I dare say I shall not stop. You will be all the more irresistible when heavy with my child.”

He has flipped a secret switch buried deep in your belly, a magnetic pull calling for him like a siren song, wanting nothing more, as if it is your most significant purpose in life to bear his progeny.

“I… I want your children,”  you stutter truthfully.

Your confession does something primal to him, hunching over you and taking you harsher now, hands grabbing your flesh hungrily as his cock ploughs into you. He moves quicker, the drag against that swollen nub between your legs making your lungs feel tight and your brain fuzzy. All the hatred draining from you, the scales tipping wholly towards the other side—total carnal lust. A craving for him and his body and to continue the Bridgerton name you now also bear.

Your hands tentatively explore his contours as you grow bolder, and he fucks you harder. His expression as he pulls up to look over you veering close to ragging affection.

“Do you like it?” he murmurs, a beautiful boyish smile claiming his face as you nod. “Do you want to do it more?” Again, you silently affirm. “Do you still hate me?” he whispers. You shake your head as he kisses your forehead. “Shame. You are so very beguiling when you fight me,” he confesses as if exposing a chink in his armour.

“I also did not say I liked you…” you quip, feeling emboldened, your cadence rising with each deep stroke he takes.

His inky pupils glitter down at you. “Indeed you did not,”  

And with that, he sinfully sucks on two fingers, staring you down, worming them between your bodies. You cry out as he nudges your burning nub—so much wetness and heat. All the while, his pace never wavers.

“Pleasure is key to conception,” he explains, even as your brain turns off.

“Please don’t stop,” you pant, climbing higher and higher, nails scratching his back.

“I’m never stopping,” he rasps, his tone sincere. 

He snaps his hips harshly, and all you can do is cling to him as your body flings you over a breathtaking peak, vision whiting out as your body shudders and your pussy flutters hard around his invading cock, which feels shatteringly huge with each convulsion. He groans, and as you feel yourself floating, he grabs your face and holds his directly over yours. His body stills, his face contorted in ecstasy as he also seems to reach a climax, a warm bloom deep inside you that can only be from him, from his cock. He slumps over you, both of you panting, winded.

“Now you have my seed, darling girl,” he slurs after a moment, the term of affection catching you slightly off-guard.

“Is that what I can feel?” You stumble, still dazed.

“Yes, you shall dutifully grow me a baby Bridgerton with it, will you not?” he looks at you expectantly.

“Yes, my lord,” you nod solemnly. 

And you mean it.

No taglist as these drabbles are short

#kinktober 2023 #kinktober #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

[bokettochild]

So much for sleep! I sort of had a feeling we'd get an update soon, but I wasn't expecting to see the notif right as I was putting things away for the night and lying down! JoJo, our goddess, I swear she never sleeps!

Anyways! I have THOUGHTS!

First of all, I'm glad we get to find out about the letters' contents! Four's age is showing with him complaining about having chores when he gets home, and Twilight really just is a kid in his twenties wanting to enjoy shopping at a discount, huh? Contrast that to Warriors being the mature financier of their recent inn stay (and nobody believing him despite some of them being right there to see it) and I suppose it really shows us who's where in the age line up, huh?

This does too, btw

JoJo really said "let them be children!" and allowed this trio of terrors to start climbing crap like gremlins

and then get scolded by the mature adult of the group

Honestly, Warriors really is stepping into the shoes of a leader in this group, more so, i dare say, than we've actually seen Time do! No dissing on Time here, but Warriors is the one giving plans, guidence, and settling major issues, it's just that Time has the age and big voice so everyone's looking at him. i feel like that might change in future though, since our Old Man has made his priorities clear recently (his kid comes before the mission)

Speaking of Time, I see those Shade references, Twilight!

He is basically handing the old man ammunition to use against him in the future (now imagining Shade quoting him on purpose when the time comes)

That said, there's a tension here I wasn't expecting, but it makes sense! time is worried for his kid, and seeing the natural inclinations of a hero in someone he cares about... he's getting a taste of what it is to be in the shoes of all those he loves: watching the hero suffer and hurt because of duty, devotion and his own choices. I feel like this is building up to something. Maybe Time is going to try and "save" some of these boys from the fate of their legacy? protect them from being a hero so they can be people? Is that what's going to send him to the fate of becoming Shade?

Anyways, that's it for theories so far. I have a few things I wanted to love on before I end this though!

They are horse girls your honor! (althoughl Wars, hunny, that ain't how you lead a horse, especially not one that big and clearly excited!)

Twilight being confused that a "lady" is waiting on him (we all now a tiny part of him was hoping for Midna)

Four being the emotionally competent hero who knows when to push and make sure everyone's okay (FOUR IS BALANCE PERSONIFIED, FIGHT ME!!!)

he's also adorable (did I mention he's really just a kid?)

and lastly! obligatory Legend appreciation!

my guy is so pretty <3 T-T

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu warriors #lu twilight #lu four #lu wild #lu time #lu wind #lu hyrule #lu sky #linked universe update

[crosshairlovebot]

i've got you / hunter x gn!reader

pairing: hunter x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has endearments.

description: hunter finds you unwell, so he tries his best to take care of you.

word count: 1,779

warnings: references to illness (fever, headache, coughing, sneezing, lethargy). but otherwise, it's soft hunter at his softest.

been writing much hunter lately! i'm not complaining! (but i will try and get some crosshair out next week) i wrote this super quick for a twitter mutual <3 but i hope this brings comfort to anyone who's reading and sick. you deserve an attentive hunter looking after you.

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated.

Hunter knew something wasn’t right as soon as he walked into the Marauder. He’d come back after leaving the rest of the squad at 79’s, deciding he wasn’t in the mood to go out, especially when you’d decided to stay back on the ship, citing a headache. He’d initially offered to stay back with you, but you’d waved him off, insisting he go out with his brothers since they rarely got time off and you’d hate it if he used that time to sit around with you on the ship.

“I’m just going to lay in bed and maybe fall asleep early. I’m feeling a little tired anyway. Very boring stuff. Go have fun, Hunter. You need it,” you had told him as you came out of the fresher, face washed and in the comfiest clothes you had – baggy pants and short-sleeved shirt that you’d stolen from one of Wrecker’s old civvie disguises.

He’d been apprehensive but had left with his brothers anyway, telling you to comm him if you needed anything.

It had barely been an hour when he’d told Crosshair he was leaving, and to keep an eye on the others. Not only was the club loud and overcrowded, but he also just wanted to be with you.

But when he stepped onto the Marauder, something felt off. He could feel it in the air, and the sound of uneven breaths made the hair on his arms prickle under his blacks. He walked further into the ship, calling your name softly when he heard sniffles and a cough.

“Cyare? Hey,” he said when he saw you lying in his bunk, covered in a blanket and looking much worse than when he left you. You were unwell; the headache had been a precursor to something more serious. You squinted up at him as his shadow covered your eyes. He crouched down next to you immediately and ran a hand over your hair gently. “Why didn’t you call me?”

You groaned but leaned into his touch. “You’re supposed to be out.”

“I’m glad I came back.” Hunter pressed the back of his gloved hand to your forehead. Even through the skin-tight fabric, he could feel you burning up. “You should’ve called me,” he chided, a frown etched into his brow.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter under your chin, and coughing lightly again. Hunter grazed the back of his fingers against your cheek.

“You’re never a bother. Why would you think that?” he asked, shaking his head.

You just shrugged, then sneezed under the blanket. When you re-emerged, moaning in discomfort, Hunter gave your cheek another caress before he put his hands on his knees and stood up. “I’m getting you a cold towel for your head.”

“No, don’t go,” you weakly protested as he walked off to the fresher.

“I’ll just be a minute, love,” he said and went to rifle under the fresher sink for a small clean towel, cursing that he and his brothers weren’t tidier. Once he found one, he quickly wet it in cold water and wrung out the excess before walking back to the bunk. You cracked open your eyes when you heard his footsteps and twisted on your back as he crouched down again.

“Here,” he said softly as he placed the cold towel on your forehead, smoothing it down. You hummed before a shiver went through your body.

“Have you taken anything?” Hunter asked.

“A couple of pills when you guys left,” you told him, eyes drifting shut again. Hunter frowned. He wasn’t used to treating sick people. Clones rarely ever got sick, their immune systems engineered to withstand any illnesses. Any time he was treated for anything, it was for injuries, and Tech usually handled it.

But Hunter was your partner, in every sense of the word. He wanted to be there for you in any way he could. Not just as the leader of the squad, but as someone who loved you more than he thought he could ever love anyone.

He always took care of the people he loved.

So, he tried to remember what they’d learnt from their training modules as cadets, the ones that detailed nat-born illnesses and how to treat them if they ever encountered sick civilians.

Fever, sneezing, coughing, headache. Sounded like a flu-type sickness. Maybe you had picked it up on Felucia during their mission there a few days ago.

You’d already taken some medication, so he knew you wouldn’t be able to for the next few hours. He just had to try and make you comfortable and ease the symptoms of the fever as much as he could while the medication worked.

Hunter gently flipped the cool towel to the other side as he looked down at the blanket. “You need to keep cool, cyare. We don’t want the fever to get too high,” he hooked his fingers over the edge of the blanket. You made a sound of protest but ultimately let him remove the blanket, pushing it down to the end of the bunk. You shivered, but you looked up at him, eyes blinking at him. He’d never seen you look so helpless before, and he hated it. He cupped your jaw, skin still hot, thumb moving over your cheekbone.

“Where’s your water canteen?” he asked.

You nodded to the cockpit, and he went to go get it, filling it up on the way. He crouched beside you. “Can you sit up?”

You nodded and tried to move. Hunter grabbed the towel from your forehead before he placed a hand under your shoulder blades and held your arm to support the change in position, fixing the pillow behind you. You groaned, complaining about the heaviness in your body as you sat there. He looked at you, shoulders slumped forward, peaky expression on your face as you rubbed your eyes. Being sick looked miserable, and he wished he could take it from you and suffer with it himself, just so you didn’t have to. He unscrewed the canteen.

“Small sips, okay?” He held the lip of the canteen to your lips and the back of your head as you tilted back and took three small sips before Hunter pulled the canteen away. Some water dribbled down your lip and chin and he gently wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. You looked over at him, brows slanted down. You looked upset, which surprised him a little.

“What is it?” He asked, screwing the canteen shut again.

You made a noncommittal noise and slowly moved to lie down again. Hunter cradled your head as you guided it down to the pillow, removing his hand once you were fully down. He ran his hand over your hair again. He watched your eyes close slowly at the movement. He repeated it a few times, soothing you the only way he really knew how. He tried not to worry too much, but it was hard when you barely had the energy to look at him. He knew nat-borns slowly got better from illnesses such as these in a matter of days, and he would have Tech check you over once they all got back, but he didn’t like seeing you like this; eyes dull, skin clammy, body curled up. He just wanted you to get better sooner rather than later.

After a few moments, he picked up the now half-dry towel and said, “Gonna wet this again.”

He stood up and walked to the fresher, and when he came back, he placed the damp towel back on your forehead. As he pulled away, you grabbed his hand and cradled it to your chest, interlocking your fingers together and sighing. He smiled softly.

“Oh, ner cyare,” he whispered gently.

“I’m sorry, Hunter,” you croaked.

Hunter shook his head. “It’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re sick. It happens.”

“Not to you,” you scowled at his hand like it was to blame for his immunity to illness.

“Well, I can’t help that.” His mouth tilted up at the corner.

You fiddled with his fingers and traced lines down to his palms. “I just feel so helpless like this.”

“Lucky for you, I’m here now. I’ve got you,” he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your temple. He lingered there for a second before he pulled away, his other hand coming to your cheek.

You looked up at him, pout on your lips. “I didn’t want to ruin your night out.”

Hunter caressed your cheek. “There was nothing to ruin. You’re my priority.”

“Still. I’m sorry,” you said before kissing his fingers.

Hunter shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He adjusted the towel and then fixed the pillow underneath your head, so it was better supporting your neck. “Do you feel like some food?” he asked. He wanted to feel useful to you, but he didn’t know what else he could offer right now.

You shook your head. “Just wanna sleep.”

“Then sleep, love,” he said, pulling his hand from yours and sitting on the floor next to the bunk, his back against the wall opposite, legs stretched out and the soles of his feet resting against the bunk frame. “I’ll be here.”

You watched him, mouth pressing into a line before you reached out to him and your voice said quietly, “Closer?”

Hunter smiled. “Hang on.”

He stood up and began to remove his armour. Piece by piece, he placed it in a pile on one of the chairs in the centre of the ship. Now only in his blacks, he made his way back to you. You opened your eyes again and smiled when you saw him in his underarmour. He crouched down.

“Shuffle over,” he whispered, and you obliged, moving slowly so your back was almost up against the wall. Hunter climbed in next to you, sitting up in case he needed to move out if you got too hot. Once he was situated, you shuffled closer, head resting against his thigh, eyes closed. You’d curled yourself in a ball, and Hunter looked down as he repositioned the cool towel on your head, making sure it was in the right place.

“Rest, cyare. I’m right here.” He stroked your head, then moved his hand down to your shoulder, rubbing his thumb there. You snuggled into the side of his leg, letting out a sigh.

“Love you,” you mumbled as you began to drift off to sleep.

He smiled down at you, his hand stilling as he rested his palm, so it cupped the curve of your shoulder and kept you close to him. “Love you.”

banner art by @vimse thank you reading!

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TAGLIST FORM

#larissa writes #hunter x reader #hunter x reader fic #hunter fluff #hunter bad batch fluff #soft hunter #hunter bad batch #hunter bad batch fic #the bad batch hunter fic #the bad batch fluff #tbb x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter

[alessiathepirate]

Hannibal NBC

THE SIMPLICITY THEY SHOULD HAVE: Will Graham x fem!reader

Summary: She liked watching Will do things he actually liked to do. Watching him sit on the floor working on those boat motors was the sight she wanted to see everyday.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.

So- I actually looked up an article about boat motors and about how to repair them, so I can describe it in a close-enough way, but in reality I've never seen a single boat motor in my life. So if it isn't desribed like it should be described - I'm sorry.

Warnings: references to Will's work, but surprisingly nothing more

•••

She liked watching Will do things he actually liked to do. The things that made him relaxed, but entertained in a good way.

It didn't only give Will a peace of mind, it also made her feel a certain kind of calmness and safety she's never felt when Will was out working on a case, trying to get into people's minds.

Watching him sit on the floor working on those boat motors as the muscles around his eyes and mouth tensed up from concentration was the sight she wanted to see everyday. When he isn't thinking about anything gruesome, when he isn't scared of nightmares or for her safety, when he is home doing what he likes with all his dogs around him being lazy - that was the sight she liked, those were the happiest moments she had about Will.

It felt domestic. It felt normal.

It felt like something they should have everyday.

The simplicity of it was the thing what made it so special - because otherwise nothing about their relationship was simple.

She was lying on her stomach in their shared bed, keeping herself up on her elbows. She was supposed to be reading, so she can finally finish the book she has started months ago but couldn't find the time to finish because of all the crazy, abnormal things that had been going on. This was the only normal evening they've had in months, the only truly relaxing one, yet the book isn't the real entertainment.

Will on the other hand certainly is.

"It's not very nice to stare."

His voice is truly entertaining too, especially when it's calm, relaxed and slightly teasing.

"I never said I'm a nice person." she said, not even trying to hide her smile.

"Really? I thought I'm dating a nice person." he didn't look up from his work, his hands were still moving the screwdriver he was holding, trying to get a stuck screw out.

"I can be nice." she started, feeling her heart flutter as she noticed how Will's curls were messier than usual - God, he looked cute. "Just not when I have such a handsome boyfriend to look at."

That made Will look up, finding her gaze and making eye contact, abandoning his work for a while. She almost giggled at how his cheeks turned into a slight pink shade at her compliment. She rarely saw Will blush, very rarely.

"Such a charmer."

"I try my best." she smirked. " 'Everything alright with the motor?"

"Yeah, the screw's stuck but it'll be fine." he looked down at the boat motor, then back at her. "So, you abandoned the book again."

"Yes." she answered shortly and then continued: "I found something much more entertaining."

"That's a very nice book." Will voice carried a teasing edge.

"Yeah, well I just decided to enjoy the moment." she lost the smirk and the teasing, and used a sincere smile and honesty instead. "We rarely have a calm evening these days. I'd rather spend it watch- admiring you and talking to you, than look at words my mind can't comprehend right now anyway."

Will lost the smirk too and the small, happy smile he sent her way was truly the cutest thing she's seen him do so far. It wasn't anything big, sure. It wasn't a surprise date, it wasn't a gift she wouldn't need anyway - it was something she really wanted to see: a honest smile. A smile what told her everything and a smile what didn't hold anything back. He was comfortable, well rested and happy - the only thing she wanted.

"Come here." he said those two words softly, there was nothing rude or demanding about it.

She got off the bed and walked toward him. When he patted the floor next to where he was sitting, she understood what he wanted. She sat down next to him and crossed her legs.

"Would you like to help me?"

It was rare that he asked for help - no matter the context.

He trusted her, he loved her - she was sure of that. For a second she was too scared to open her mouth and speak, not wanting to ruin the softness of the moment.

"Of course." she swallowed; she was unable to hold back a smile. "What are we doing?"

"We'll try to remove the propeller so we can replace it with a new one. Then we'll try to find out why the battery is dead and if the spark plug needs to be changed." he explained it slowly and patiently, taking a look at her face here and there, making sure she understands what he's saying. "Sounds good?"

"Yeah. How can I help?"

"If you could get this screw out so we can take the propeller off, that'd be awesome."

"I can try."

She took the screwdriver from him as he turned the boat motor towards her so she can get to work. The first time tried to remove it the screw didn't move at all. That's why the second time she tried it she used more force - and to her surprise the screw moved.

She looked up at Will for a second with a grin. "It looks like that's something only women can do."

"Right. Thanks." she could hear that he was smiling, his pride wasn't hurt like any other man's would be.

"What now?" she asked as she took off the propeller.

"Now we'll take a look at the spark plug..."

And Will started to explain everything. He told her how to take the spark plug out, he explained what the most common problems are that can kill the battery in seconds. He spoke and then let her do the work, praising her when she did something right and chuckling when she messed something up. He corrected her and then watched her work with a smile.

She had a feeling that he likes to explain it to her, he likes the thought that he can teach her something new what isn't criminal profiling or basic self defense stuff.

By the time the motor was taken apart her fingers felt numb and she felt herself getting tired. Will must've felt it too, because he took the wrench she had in her hand.

"Is that all?" she asked.

"No, but I think for today you've done enough."

"Enough good stuff?"

"You've done a wonderful job with this for a rookie." Will's smile was genuine - so was hers.

"Yeah, no surprise you're a teacher. You can explain how everything works really well." she rested her head on his shoulder and even if Will tensed up a little from the sudden affection, he didn't push her away - he pressed a soft, barely even a real kiss to the top of her head.

"I think you should go ahead and lie down. I'll join you in a second."

"No. I'll wait here with you."

And she waited.

She waited until he put the new propeller on. She watched as he checked on the oil. She watched as he started to clean up the mess - putting different tools into the toolbox and cleaning the floor with the rag he had close by.

At some point they changed their position. Maybe it was because of Will moving and turning while trying to not move to far away from her - she didn't know for sure. But she was hugging his shoulders from behind while she rested her chin in the crook of his neck and her legs were wrapped around his waist.

It was a comfortable position for her - and must have been a pretty uncomfortable one for Will.

But he didn't complain. Sometimes he brushed his hand along her shin or knee, or took one of her hands and held it. And it was Heaven.

She couldn't really believe in anything good in this world, not after she saw what the world is like and how bad it actually is. She saw it all through Will's work and night terrors - but one thing was for sure, in that moment she felt like they were both in Heaven. They were home, they were close, the dogs were lazily lying on the rug around them.

It felt safe.

It felt normal.

It felt nice.

"Sweetheart?" she was half asleep when Will finally spoke up, his voice wasn't more than a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Let's go to bed, okay?"

"Sure." she answered, but stayed still for a moment. "Will?"

He hummed and she felt the noise go through his whole body.

"I like these evenings. The calm ones."

Will didn't say anything. He didn't have to. She knew he felt the same way. She knew it because he took her hand and pressed a kiss on it. She knew it because he carried her to bed. She knew it because that night he didn't wake up from a night terror.

She liked watching Will do things he actually liked to do. But she liked it more when he slept calmly.

#nbc hannibal #will graham deserves the world #hannibal #hannibal the series #will graham #will graham x reader #will graham x fem!reader

[graymanshoots]

“I need time”

Simons POV and continuation to This

FWB!Ghost x GN Reader

implied Konig x Reader

Warnings: Reference to sex, angst no comfort, Simon being an emotional mess, short 😓 (sorry)

“I love you”

Simon felt his heart seize when he heard those words from you, a sudden wave of panic washing over him.

He didn’t remember much after that, aside from the fact that he left. He left you laying there, without knowing whether he would come back. And he didn’t.

Simon didn’t regret being with you or how he acted; he knew he was crossing the lines you two had agreed on for the unorthodox relationship. What he did regret was leaving you alone in your bed, leaving you to think he just wanted someone to warm his cock. He wanted you. He wanted you beyond just the physical aspect. He wanted to wake up with you next to him every day. He wanted to make you breakfast and sit you on the counter with some tea. He wanted to see you at the altar, listening to him pour his heart out to you. He wanted all of that and more. He wasn’t ready for you to want him back. He felt scared, more than he did on any battlefield in any condition. The thought of you loving him filled him with dread of what your futures together might hold. You both had a dangerous job with no guarantee for survival, and that iced over any chances there were of him expressing his emotions to you. He didn’t want to feel the way he did, because with those feelings came the thoughts of seeing you lying dead somewhere, or worse, MIA on the field.

He was supposed to be a ghost; he couldn’t have those connections. Watching you walk around base, interacting with everyone but him, tore him up so much inside he couldn’t explain.

During briefings, he couldn’t keep his eyes off your focused expression, your brows drawn together, and eyes zeroed on the captain.

Simon felt like he had all the time in the world to grow a pair and finally say something to you, but the words caught in his throat every time. Your eyes stared up at him in confusion as he just stood there, looking down at you menacingly.

You didn’t want to play Simon’s games and had begun detaching yourself from him as a lover. The chat between you two remained unopened, and the behavior was cordial when you worked together.

He hated it; he couldn’t stand the feeling of his guts twisting and knotting in his stomach every time you brushed him off. Johnny commented on the strained relationship between the two of you, but Simon always shut it down. No one needed to know that you two had a falling out, not that they knew you were sleeping together in the first place.

It wasn’t until your team was forced to work with Kortac against a mutual enemy that he truly felt his time to make things up was being threatened.

Your team was stationed at a temporary base to keep even ground with Kortac. 141 was on edge working with people who could be on the enemy's side in seconds if they offered a better deal, but they had no choice in the matter.

Ghost never had to look up at anyone in his life, having always been taller than his peers. But when he was met face-to-face with König, a behemoth of a man, like a cat, his hair stood on end and his eyes narrowed.

Without the Kortac badge, Ghost had assessed König as a threat, and with the way the larger man’s eyes fell on you, Ghost could tell it was going to be a bigger issue than he wished.

#cod mw2 #call of duty fanfic #john soap mactavish #cod angst #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #john price cod #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader #konig x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost angst #Spotify