#demand affection when its a bad time

[dduane]

Hello.

I've seen you posting detailed information about the WGA strike and wondered if you had any suggestions as to how those of us not directly involved can show our support for the Union?

Okay, bearing in mind that all this is entirely subjective at the moment (and so far lacking any more useful input from other sources): a few thoughts.

This will be my third WGA strike. (My first one was in 1988, just after I'd made my first live action sale—s1e6 of ST:TNG). And the thought keeps occurring to me at the moment that this time out, there's a potentially gamechanging player on the field that wasn't there before: truly pervasive social media.

(Adding a cut here, because this goes on a bit...)

In 2007, social media as we now understand it was still in its cradle. Now, though, those of us who're striking can make our voices much more widely heard. And so can those of us who're not, but just want to show solidarity. Last time, the AMPTP was able to do pretty much what it wanted without the public noticing or having even a medium-profile way to make their feelings known. But this time? Not so much.

So as an otherwise uninvolved person who wants to show solidarity, I'd start with something seemingly low-value. If I was on Twitter, I'd start routinely tweeting about the strike and my support for it—not obsessively, just persistently, a couple/few times a week—using the Twitter hashtags that are gaining ground even now, such as #DoTheWriteThing (and of course #WGAStrike). I would make sure I was following @WGAEast and @WGAWest, to keep an eye on what's going on.

Additionally: I would start politely, but repeatedly—again, maybe once or twice a week at least, and not stopping—tweeting the various major players in the AMPTP, especially the streamers: Amazon, Netflix, Hulu et al. I would start suggesting that their current attitude toward the WGA's contract negotiations is not only unrealistic but potentially (for the AMPTP) bad for business. (And self-destructive, too, as if this goes on much longer in this vein, they'll be seemingly eagerly casting themselves as The Baddies.) I would suggest that their bad behavior, if not amended by them coming to the table to bargain in good faith, might start affecting both my interest in their shows and my willingness to keep paying unreasonable people for access to them.

I should emphasize here that so far there've been no formal calls from anyone for boycotts or subscription cancellations. For the moment, this strikes me as wise. The point for WGA-friendly observers, right now, would be to keep what's happening to the writers visible: to keep bringing it up: to refuse to allow it to be swept under the rug. The "They only want two cents on the dollar!" angle seems potentially useful the more it's repeated. The point is to keep the repetition going: to make it plain, day after day, that the other side's being not just unreasonable, but greedy. Day after day, and week after week, and (if necessary: please Thoth may it not be...) month after month.

And tweeting is hardly all that can be done. Email is cheap and easy. But actual letters, written on actual paper and mailed, can still create a surprising amount of attention in a corporate office. (The saying in TV used to be that for every person who actually writes in about an issue, there are ten, or a hundred, who feel the same way but never got around to it.) Write letters to all the AMPTP members' CEOs, and make your feelings on the WGA's core demands politely plain. ...Especially when those CEOs collectively made almost three-quarters of a billion-with-a-B dollars in salaries last year, when many of the writers working on their shows can't afford rent.

After that: here's another thought, a little more physical. If by chance you're in an area where one or the other of the Guilds are picketing: turn out and support them! Honk when you pass: and if you're interested, show up and offer to walk the picket lines with them. These things get noticed. (In 2007 a bunch of us, both Guild members and non-, caused significant astonishment by turning out to picket AMPTP members' offices in Dublin.)

...Obviously not all that many people are going to be positioned, in terms of location or their own work and time commitments, to show up physically. But online? Find ways to keep this issue visible. The AMPTP wants this to go quiet, wants people to get bored with it, wants people to find reasons to blame the writers. They've tried spinning the story that way before. Don't let them pull that shit. Find ways to back those who're calling them on that, publicly. They do respond to this kind of thing (though they may strenuously deny it). If enough attention continues to be paid by the general public, they will blink—if sometimes excruciatingly slowly, as Disney began to blink over the dispute tagged #DisneyMustPay.

As viewers, and as viewers who pay for subscriptions to things, we far outnumber them. Help be a part of making the AMPTP understand that this quest for a truly fair deal is not going to go away. And the longer they try to act like the Guild's negotiation positions are beneath their notice, the more it's going to hurt them, and the stupider and greedier it's going to make them look.

...That's all I've got for the moment, as I need some lunch. :) ...But I hope this has helped. And thanks for your concern, and your desire to stand in solidarity with us! It's so welcome. :)

ETA: here's a link to the Guild's social media toolkit, for those who'd like to change PFPs or icons, etc., to show their support.

#Writers Guild strike #DoTheWriteThing #WGAStrong

[tinylittlebab]

bleh everything SUCKS

#sisters stupid freind/both our roommate is HORRIBLE #hes so controlling and decided hes in charge of of her #she bought a fish. something that doesnt affect him in the slightest. and hes furious with her #hes like. saying it will cause issues in their friendship if she doesnt get rid of it. hes not even saying that its a problem because he #doenst wanna deal with it bc he has acknowledged that it doesnt affect him. hes angry bc he thinks it was impulsive and irrisposible #which like 1. it wasnt and shes beentalking about getting one for years and can probably afford and take care of it and 2. even uf it was #its not a decision that affects him so he has no right. shes an adult who can make her own choices even if theyre are bad ones #hes so mean to her all the time and demands all her time. talks down all her friends. insults her for wanting a relationship. refuses to #listen to any of her problems or support her and refuses to let her talk about any of her interests he doesnt share either #talks down every hobby she has. calls all of it stupid and a waste of money even though he soends SO much money on clothes all the time #and he gets angry with her when she isnt into the stuff he is (mostly shows). even when she agrees to watch it with him he gets angry if #she isnt as into it as she is. hes just decided theyre in a relationship which means shes not allowed to pursue anyone but he is also not #interested in her in the way she wants. he insults her for wanting anything more out of a relationship bc hes content without it rn #hes awful. i hate him. i dont wanna live with him another year. i dont want her to lose him totally bc theyve been freinds for so long and #she really cares about him but fucking hell. they should NOT live together. gonna apply to some places. this lease ends in 3-4 months so #theres not much time for me to adjust but if im adjusted in time then maybe we will go get an apartment just us 2 #and then maybe she can get a fucking support dog like she needs bc shes disabled but he refuses to let her get

[luveline]

I read the Derek and Spencer fainting bit and now I want to complete it with Hotch :)))

If that’s alright of course…

thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader

Aaron knows you harbour more affection for him than anyone else on the team, which is a true compliment to him, as you adore Spencer. He can never tell if you're friendly or loving, if you want some or all or nothing, the line between you blurred. 

When Morgan and Garcia first began their flirtatious friendship, Aaron thought they were seeing each other on the sly for a whole fortnight. He's a profiler, but he doesn't know everything. 

He does, however, know that something is wrong with you today. Hand held up over your eyes, you squint out over the crime scene with a wrinkled nose. The lakeside smells as bad as it looks with gore blackening the surrounding grass. He's been telling you for months to get some shades. You've been ignoring his advice. 

Your disapproval of the smell is normal. Your unsure footing is not. You take his forearm when he offers it and step across the muddy bank to the body without audible complaint, though you give him a 'this fucking sucks' narrowing of the eyes when he gives you the time. 

"Agent Hotchner," a deputy greets, "Agent L/N. We found the second body here. Bystanders pulled the first out thinking she was still alive, but that was unfortunately not the case." 

You shift unprofessionally close to Aaron. He doesn't really care. The sheriff barely looks at you both, his attention on the corpse hidden between overgrown cattails. 

Aaron hates to admit that he gives you more of his attention than is helpful. You seem odd. Call it intuition, call it plain old profiling, Aaron reads the next minute of events in the smallest twitch of your finger.

You put your hand on his back and he doesn't think, he just grabs you. The sheriff deputy startles as you fold over Aaron's arm like a marionette with strings sliced, exhaling hard as your body does its best to hit the grass beneath your feet. 

"Agent L/N!" The deputy yelps. 

"I got her," Aaron says, easing you down to the ground. He keeps a hand behind your head to lay you down flat, the other quick to leap from your side to your cheek. You'll likely have bruises in the shape of his hands at your waist. "Y/N?" 

He rubs his thumb under your eye. Quick, he leans down with an ear to your lips and relaxes at the sound of your shallow breathing. He pulls away, resting a hand atop your chest. 

"Can you hear me?" he asks, conscious of and ignoring the copious pairs of eyes watching over you. 

You don't respond. Aaron goes into emergency mode, flagging down a cop who races for a paramedic, hands at your throat unbuttoning the first button on your blouse, the second in an overabundance of caution. 

"Y/N, if you can hear me, I need you to open your eyes. Can you do that?" His tone wavers somewhere between demanding and desperate. "Come on. Come on." 

Fainting is one thing. Fainting with no signs of dehydration and little sun exposure is another, especially considering you hadn't moved from one position to another. You've passed out with no obvious cause. Any number of things could be wrong. 

He doesn't slap you —it works in the movies and not often elsewhere. In fact, Aaron finds himself at the opposite end of the spectrum. Patient outwardly and insanely panicked on the inside, he holds your face in his hand and waits for someone to tell him you're alright. 

Your breath catches, your head lolling into his palm. He straightens it, weary of your airways. "Y/N? Tell me you can hear me." 

The whirlwind of your fall and the eternity of your recovery has him holding his breath. 

"I can hear you," you mumble, again attempting to turn your head. He lets you this time. He's so relieved, he'd let you do anything. 

He fights the urge to shout, Where's the medic? instead following your face, tilting his head to the side. "Open your eyes, honey," he murmurs, for your ears alone. 

Your lashes twitch against his pinky index finger. You frown as though you're in pain and finally rouse to attention. 

"What hurts?" he asks, brows furrowed.

"Nothing hurts…" Your frown worsens. "You look really unhappy." 

"I'm not ecstatic about this," he says. He gives in, shouting, "Where's the medic?"

"Oh, no, please," you say, trying to sit up, "that is so embarrassing."

Aaron pushes you flat to the grass beneath you. "Stop, you need to stay flat. You passed out. This is the solution–" He puts his hand flat over your chest as you put in some effort. "Hey, this is what you need to do. Listen to me, agent." 

"What happened to honey?" you ask quietly. 

"That's when you were doing what I wanted." 

You close your eyes in a faux strop. "I guess I'll have to do what you want more often, sir." 

"That's enough." He sounds fond. Why does he sound so fond? 

The deputy clears his throat. "Paramedics are here." 

You groan. Aaron hides a smile. Through everything, his hand has stayed on your cheek. He doesn't pull it away until he absolutely has to, and even then, he holds some part of you. Your elbow, your wrist. He has the sense to be sheepish about it when the paramedic ushers him back, but even then, he's thinking about when he'll get to touch you next; he needs the assurance that you're okay. 

He gets it a half hour later when you're sipping on a gatorade in the back of an SUV. 

"Do I still get paid for today?" you ask, smiling playfully. "Or is this a write off?" 

He wants to joke about it with you, but there's work to be done. He sends you back to the hotel with a frankly unprofessional hug and a demand to take it easy. He's sure you'll be back stepping on his heels by late afternoon. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[fuxuannie]

╭₊˚ ๑︰𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒇𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓

:★: pairings : spidey-boys x long distance lover ! reader

:★: warnings : none, crack & fluff

:★: a/n : new layout !!! watchu guys think :)? no major atsv spoilers

:★: tags : fluff, ldr relationships (more like different earth or universe relationships), author is very tired, sleepy brain rambling

MILES falling inlove with you was.. rough. After you had no contact for so long, it felt like the one way he could meet you was in his dreams and face the dread aswell as the emptiness in his heart when he wakes up.

When he sees you again, it's almost instant the way he pulls you in for the tightest hug on earth. Miles is whispering sweet nothings about how much he misses you, the way you never left his mind since the first day you met & how you continue to cloud his every thought.

He just misses you so much, just having someone understand him because it's not the easiest to find people he can casually talk about his stuggles of being Spiderman.. but you were there. You were his safe place, his second home.

HOBIE is forever greatful for the technology that the Spider Society provides and can just make a portal at any time, all the while constantly being able to land in your bed with no fail every single time.

However he is not greatful that he's constantly on missions, and when he's not, you are. But honestly, sneaking off during his free time to visit you is his favorite activity. "Hey there, love." "HOBIEWHATAREYOUDOINGHERE??" (hobie what are you doing here)

Sometimes he thinks its a rare occurence to see you more than 4 times a week. It makes him miss you an awful lot, but those 3 hour cuddle sessions make him forget all his troubles.. so he'll bare it until he's able to see his lovely partner again. <3

PAVITR can't stand being away from you but he loves you too much to complain, he'll suck it in but whenever he gets sad he calls you on his watch and immediately lights up when you pick up and sees your face.

He doesn't demand anything, but all he asks is one call within the day. Little updates when you're given the chance if you want to, he knows you're very very busy like him but he's not immune to missing you, and he misses you so bad.

When he finally sees you again, he's GLUED to you. He's holding your hand, an arm around your shoulder or waist or he's practically carrying you around because he wants you to be super close after being starved of affection.

Conclusion : spidey-boys lack affection, plz give them they need it badly

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ bailu's candy stash #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #spiderverse x reader #miles morales imagines #miles morales x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobart brown x reader

[running-with-kn1ves]

Can you make something for a yandere masochist? Smut please

A/N: Working on all the reqs in my inbox, I just don't have much time to write! No pressure but donations always help if yall want your requests written faster!

CW: Noncon/Dubcon, yandere themes, kidnapping, threats, Sub! Masochistic yandere, aggressive-ish reader, NSFW

Synopsis: You find yourself kidnapped by your shy boyfriend who claims he's going to "take care of you."

Word Count: 3000 -- Tags ^^: @moonlight-melanin

If someone had told you that your meek nerd of a boyfriend would be the one to ever kidnap you, you probably would have laughed in their face. Your boyfriend who trips over every sidewalk crack? Your boyfriend who needs your help opening a water bottle? Your boyfriend, who begs for you to wrap your hand around his neck and worships the ground you walk on, no matter how hard you protest?

 No way in hell. 

Except, the utter blasphemy that was such an idea, was true. It was only a few nights ago that you found yourself bound by your hands and feet to a familiar bed. Your boyfriend, Rex, vaguely explained that he was "protecting you", and "keeping you away from bad people!” 

You came to the conclusion that the harm that he was supposedly protecting you from, was most likely your overly friendly coworkers and demanding job. Who knew a 9 to 5 could be so dangerous? Clearly your boyfriend. However, his ridiculous behavior didn’t falter no matter how many times you tried to convince him, no matter how many threats or bribes you threw his way. 

Sometimes he’d be nearly swayed, but something in his mind always snapped back, telling you that its alright if you despise him, if you follow out with your threats; as long, as he got to keep you safe. 

For how obedient and eager to please he was, you never realized how stubborn he could be. But unfortunately for what he had in stubbornness, he lacked in wit and authority. He always fell into your hands when it came to you offering physical affection as a secretive ploy to try and escape; not to mention, he wasn’t very good at keeping his hostages tied up.

By the third night of your capture, you managed to slip your moist hands out of the loose, steel handcuffs. Digging an old pen into the large hole of the chain cuff wrapped around your ankle, you wiggled it around to find that sweet spot that would release you. You were grateful for being able to reach the bedside drawer, finding a multitude of tools within it that helped you including the pen that was once yours, and some lotion that made your palms slick enough to slip out of the handcuffs. While you were grateful for their presence nearby, you didn’t want to know why they were close to the bed in the first place. 

You continued to roughly wiggle the pen, not hearing any clicks or cracks within the lock that would signify your release. The chain around your ankle wouldn't budge at all. At some point along the way with all your jamming of it into the lock’s hole, the pen got stuck. 

“No no no,” You whispered, trying to tug the pen out. You pulled as hard as you could, to no avail as ink began to stain your fingers. 

Well, your kidnapper would certainly notice that. 

You looked around, feeling incredibly anxious now that you were only halfway free, aware that it'd be unlikely that you got to keep this little escape trial to yourself. Though, the freedom of your hands made you feel more powerful than you had in days.

But the quick and excited footsteps outside of the bedroom door made your stomach sink. They drew closer, only stopping to fill the silence with a rapid knock to the door. Beads of sweat rolled down your neck as your dry mouth swallowed; with shaking fingers, you covered up your hands and feet under the bed comforter. 

‘Just keep them under the blanket, and he won’t notice…’

The door opened shortly after the knock, not waiting for you to respond. In came your Rex, your boyfriend-slash-kidnapper. He clammed up with a tenseness as you scowled. You brought back your signature glare that you looked at him with during the days of your capture; he seemed to shrink into himself as you didn't break eye contact. 

"Did… you like dinner? He asked, looking at your plate on the bedside table. Eyeing the plate with a frown, Rex shut the door behind him. He walked closer to your place on the bed, inspecting the plate. 

"You've hardly eaten anything since…"

"Since you kidnapped me?"

He went silent. Avoiding your judgemental stare.

"You know I'm just trying to keep you safe…" He said meekly, not fond of your cold behavior. 

"I don't want to talk, Rex. Just leave." You snarl.

 Folding your arms you turn away and focus your attention on the setting sun outside the window, reminding you that once again you'll be here for another night… another day here when you wake up. 

Rex sits down on the bed next to you, his mop of curly black hair covering his desperate face. He wouldn't be able to take it if you played the silent treatment with him-- even when you were angry like this, he'd rather suffer your wrath than hear the empty silence of his endless thoughts, keeping your sweet lips shut so tightly. 

"Please," he gripped the blankets atop your legs, trying to find a place to touch you. "I'm just doing what a boyfriend should do, don’t you get that? Why can't you understand me?"

You continued to stay silent, hearing Rex gulp as he realized you were serious in keeping your mouth shut. 

He began to grow antsy… there was a feeling of isolation in how he couldn't see all of your face as you kept your gaze to the window, how he couldn't even hold your hand or see your body beneath the mass of blanket. 

"Come on, don’t be like that…” 

Rex rolled his tongue over his teeth, gripping harder onto the sheets. His hand shakes as it reaches for yours, desperately hoping you wouldn’t tug away. 

Once he feels your arm go limp, he wastes no time in bringing it up to his cheek, hoping to feel some sort of warmth from you. Rex presses his cheek into your fingers, finding a sliver of relief in how warm and tender you feel against him. He’s hardly had the luxury of such affection since you were huddled up in his apartment. 

You don’t dare to look at the man, debating whether interrupting him or continuing to let him nuzzle would alert him faster on the fact that your handcuffs were gone. 

You didn’t have much time to think when you suddenly felt him go still, a newfound grip on your hand. He squeezed with thick fingers, the lovelust gone from his touch.

You turn to look at Rex, finding that you could not see his eyes beneath his hair and shadowed glasses. He shifted from crushing your fingers to choking your wrist, panic setting into your body. 

Rex looked up, far more quiet than you were expecting. You began to twist your arm, trying to pull it away as he bore into you. You knew the guy was odd when you first started dating, and was clearly deranged after this kidnapping fiasco-- but you never saw it clearer until now. His eyes seemed to sink into his skin as his face drained of all color. He looked almost sick, like someone hungry to hurt without any remorse. Rex’s blunt nails dug into your skin as you started to tug away roughly; his hunched body was like a feral animal ready to strike. 

Seeing as he already found out about your escape attempt, you decided it wasn’t worth wasting this chance. Maybe you could knock him down a few before he managed to get you chained up again, giving you more time before he did who knows what. 

“These arms are awfully bare.” His monotonous voice uttered. 

Rex pressed on the bruises on your wrist of where the handcuffs dug into, his eyes glazing over as you grunted in pain. Still, you fought. You brought your other arm to try and pull off his fingers, only for Rex to shift on the bed and force himself upon you. His sharp knees dug into the sides of your thighs, pulling your other arm off of him as he laid them both beside your head, against the pillows. For being quite frail and shy, he had far more strength in his desperation than you expected. You could see that he was giving his all, only tearing up momentarily when your fingers scratch him or your elbow rams into his nose. 

Within the tussle Rex managed to find the handcuffs, of which you only hid underneath the blankets beside you. Every time you tried to heighten your knees to push him off, Rex pressed deeper, bruising your skin and making you bite your lip in frustration and pain. His loose clothes and your mess of blankets made it hard to find a grip in pushing him off.

Rex pulled the cuffs up, shakily and forcefully wrapping them upon your wrists. Pulling them over the bedpost, he watched as you struggled to get out of them. But he didn’t look down at you with a smirk or a sadistic grin-- Instead, it appeared to be relief. 

Your boyfriend lowered himself to your chest as he went limp, his previous expression void of emotion except for stunned shock, shifted to a tired, nervous frown. 

“I-I don’t do this because I want to, you know.” You burn holes into him with your glare, straining to pull the cuff chain over the bedpost as Rex sat on your torso. “You don’t give me a choice!”

His loose shirt showed the front of his collarbones and the elongated muscles in his neck, the male gulping as he looked guiltily down at your chest. You were sweating from the fear and strain against the tightened metal binds. 

“Fuck off.” You grunt, continuing to tug and pull away from your tethers. 

Rex seemed to get antsy at watching you try to struggle and claw at him. His hips twitched as he moved to sit on your legs, trying to keep you from kicking him off. 

“But…If you keep pulling like that, your bruises will only get worse.” 

“I don’t give a shit.” You snapped, hardly letting him finish. Spitting towards him you continued to fight; that only seemed to spur Rex on. 

He wiggled against your hips, looking down away from you in embarrassment. the male beginning to hold your knees down, his legs wrapped around your left thigh. 

“I’m just trying to do what’s best for us…” He huffed, laying his head down on your chest, and holding onto you. 

“Rex!” You shout angrily at his innaction, trying to knee him as you pushed away from the headboard. 

“I know, I know!” You could feel the hardness inbetween his legs press against your thigh. “You can hate me if you want, can hurt me if it makes you feel better,” He meekly bit his lip with a little grunt, hesitating for a moment before he pushed his hips against your thigh. “But I can’t let you leave.”

Seeing as your struggle didn’t impede his movements, Rex slowly rocked himself against you to apply pressure. He relished in how your knee came up to grace his crotch in a stinging pleasure. You may have done it in an attempt to push him off, but all it managed to do was further Rex’s desire for your brashness, and you.

“I’m yours…” He huffed, pushing his face into the warmth of your chest. His crotch aligned with your hip, adding a new sensation as he humped like a touch-starved, horny animal. “Im yours, I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours I’m--ngh--” 

 Rex bit the collar of your shirt to stop from crying out, his moan muffled into your body as he rocked at a rhythm. In a mix of huffs he lifted his head to search for your eyes and lips. He reached up to collide his lips with yours, pressing his knee between your legs, spreading them just gently. His hands traveled down your chest slowly, hesitantly. He was always waiting for your next move, always soaking in every touch and taste of you that he could. 

You pushed against his lips, turning and ripping your mouth away. 

“I know you want to leave, but maybe I can change your mind,” He looked at you with lovestruck eyes, a growing pleasure within them. “Maybe make you feel good. I’m atleast good at that, right?” He shyly palmed at your crotch, determined and eager to make you cry out in the same desire he was swelling in. 

He just wanted your eyes to be on him. 

Rex continued to grind himself deeper into your upper thigh, wrapping his legs around your side. He released a little pant while traveling cold fingers down your chest, pulling up your shirt to expose your stomach. Reaching between your legs, he licked his lips in anticipation, cupping your sex with his hand ever so gently. 

Shutting his lips he tried to suppress his evident moans, pushing his lips against yours as he begged for an ounce of affection. You in turn, bit his bottom lip in retaliation, pressing up against to get a good clench on his mouth. You hoped it’d be enough to get him off of you, but instead Rex pressed harder, grunting in pained pleasure as he welcomed the ache. The taste of blood was left in your mouth, Rex still leaving sloppy kisses along your nipping lips, drooling as he pushed his slick tongue in your mouth, rubbing it against yours. His glasses seemed to shift downward, making him look even more of a mess.

Even as you pulled at his hair from your restraint position, Rex let out a surprised yelping groan, humping harder into your leg at the newfound pain. 

“Please, I promise to be good…” He begs between wet, one-sided kisses. “ I’ll do whatever you w…want…!” Rex hieghtened his voice with a desperate groan, showing he was close to his climax. 

His frenzied pleas showed the familiar side of the boyfriend you remembered before he kidnapped you: quiet, clingy, and too infatuated for his own good.

You could feel a wet spot of leaked pre-cum on your thigh, Rex’s hand delving under your now unbuttoned pants. 

He was quick to palm your crotch from beneath your underwear, gripping and massaging as he chased his own high, fixated on your scrunched up expression. 

His slightly open mouth drooled against your shirt as he looked up at you, desperate for you to reciprocate some kind of affection or attention. 

Rex’s expression showed he was completely enamored in the moment, with glazed over eyes and a eagerness in his thrusts as his mind solely focused on the pleasure between his weak thighs and getting something-- anything, from you. 

“You’re disgusting.” You say bitterly, grabbing Rex’s hair in another attempt to get him off of you and ruin his high. However, that did neither. 

Rex looked even more turned on, letting out painful moans at feeling you tug multiple times.

“Yes.. hah, please-- use me, do what you want--” You bit down on his shoulder as he pressed the rest of his weight down on you, leaning up to the feeling of your fingers tug. “I love you, ‘love you so much..” 

You demand him to look at you with a tug of his black curls, a small line of blood staining your lips from the hard bite you gave. 

Rex obeyed with pleasure-drunken fervor, drawing the end of his high as he witnessed his blood in your mouth. 

A part of him would always be inside you.

Rex buried his head into your neck as he orgasmed, thrusting hard up against your leg like a rabbit during mating season. Letting out a continuation of unabashed moans, his teeth bit your T-shirt as cum spilled from his release. 

In the moment, Rex had sped up his movements in pleasuring you, digging beneath your underwear to feel the heat of your sex against his hand, leaving you quite dazed yourself, You managed to hid your reaction quite well as Rex was too focused to notice, but now that seemed to shift as he began to relax. 

Rex’s pulsing touch on your crotch slowled as his breathing regulated. Though it became more difficult for you to keep your mouth shut and your face straight as he repeatedly put his thumb against the right set of nerves. 

Your boyfriend’s breath steadied as he watched you release a hitched sigh from your mouth, enjoying the way you looked at him with a dazed glare. Covered in sweat and cum, he was beginning to come down from the high he ached to feel once again. 

“Oh…I’m sorry,” He panted, face flushed and glasses falling to the tip of his nose. “ Was s’pposed to be convincing you, but I got ahead of myself…”

Rex swallowed, adjusting his glasses with the tips of his finger. The male began to quickly fondle beneath your jeans once again, ignoring how you still pushed against the headboard and cried out in frustration. He was slow at first, trying to regain the rhythm; it didn’t take long for him to find that tempo that made your knees weak. 

You felt a numbed pleasure stir between your thighs against your will, trying to toss and turn to make it go away. 

But Rex held you still, planting his weight down on your chest and stroking your heat with skill. He had touched himself so many times to pictures and thoughts of you, but he never imagined this. Even as you scrunched up your face in frustration and annoyance, he saw your teeth scrape at your lip, your hips twitching and your groans drawing out longer than before. 

You desperately clawed at your restraints, avoiding Rex’s hot and heavy stare, of which was so entranced in watching your sweet face change every time a wave of pleasure overcame you. You felt so defeated in the fact that he could tell you were feeling the effects of his touch, how you weren’t completely focused on the idea of escape anymore. 

“M’gonna make you feel so good,” Rex grinned, hazed with the afterglow of his pleasureful release and soaking up the look of undesired arousal in your eyes. 

“Just promise not to give your pleasure, your pain, to anyone else…”

#have i used this pic before? #probably but it fits #writing #x reader #reader insert #yandere #self insert #yandere x reader #male yandere #fanfiction #yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere male #gender neutral reader #gn reader #yandere smut #tw kidnapping #yandere themes #yandere prompts #yandere fiction #sub yandere #masochistic yandere #tw yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere writing #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oc x reader #yanderecore

[ma1dita]

said he likes crazy

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 2.1k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where only he can help you with a bad day, even if he's been avoiding you since your first kiss. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: SAID HE LIKES CRAZY GIRLS, BUT HE HATES WHEN I ACT CRAZY guys i didnt sleep for this pls tell me its ok

(posted 1/29/24, beta’d by the lovely ellie @lixzey )

—

He’s been avoiding you. 

To be specific, Luke’s been running away from you. Typical son of Hermes, and a typical teenage boy at that. But if anyone’s asked you what’s up (which, they all have, after almost 4 years of seeing you two not go a day without bickering), it’s just easier to say you’ve been busy.

Okay, so perhaps you’ve been avoiding him too.

Annabeth clocked you as soon as you turned tail after almost bumping into him after archery practice. Damn children of Athena; it’d be nice if they weren’t so perceptive sometimes.

“What did he do this time?” she pipes up, filling the silence of the Big House. It’s late now, and the cabin counselors’ meeting just ended.

“Seeing as you’re the one helping me with the paperwork tonight and not him, you can take a good guess, Annie,” you sigh.

Honestly though, who the fuck kisses someone senseless and then runs away? (Luke Castellan, that’s who.) You weren’t sure what to make of it. You’re a daughter of chaos, after all, not love. But if there’s anyone who can read your emotions better than yourself, it’s him. 

Annabeth stares at her idiot brother through the window as he wanders in the grass outside the Big House.

“That bad, huh?”

“He’s just…being Luke,” you say, blinking slowly as you shuffle through the last of the files you need to put on your dad’s desk before you mutter, “I’m just having a bad day.”

A noise of concern makes its way up Annabeth’s throat. You haven’t had a bad day in a while, in all honesty, not one that makes you act like this, admittedly not one that makes you act like you— the daughter of Dionysus, god of insanity, and not the daughter of Mr. D, camp director.

It was just a bad day until it turned into a bad week, and the voices in your head were starting to get loud without Luke distracting you. Because that’s what he ultimately is, a distraction from your camp duties. 

There’s so much to do and so little time, however, that you hide away your microexpressions that seem to be clawing at you from the inside. The anger, the mania, the hurt. If you unleash it, only the gods can predict how much of camp would be affected by your ‘outbursts’, as your dad likes to call them. Not like you had a choice in the matter. Your days of wreaking havoc are behind you, now presenting yourself as the stellar star of the Camp Half-Blood show. It’s almost a one-woman production with you picking up after your father and trying to tame the traits he passed down.

Thanks for that, D. 

So you give and you give and you give—all your attention and time and effort into keeping camp upright, into being the perfect daughter, that at the end of the day, you’ve drained yourself of who you are with who you try to be.

You look at your tired reflection in the window, before your eyebrow raises at the sight of Luke blending in with the shadows of the tree he’s leaning against. Idiot.

“Annie, would you mind…”

“Yeah, I’ll do cabin checks myself. Might drag your brother to do them with me,” she smiles, patting your arm before grabbing her bag.

“If he complains, let me know. Pollux has heard me bitch enough today.” The small girl raises an eyebrow at that, biting her tongue from responding. You chewed out a lot of people today, acting extra uptight and demanding of the counselors to “just do the right thing.” It was almost insufferable, but despite you trying to hold it in, your emotions bled into their own. Everyone was agitated by the end of the meeting, filing out quickly with biting words and hot tempers. You couldn’t help but notice Luke led them all out of there, and they also somehow got the feeling that he was to blame. 

Smiling at Annabeth in thanks, you watch her walk out to Luke before punching him in the stomach as he grimaces, meeting your violet gaze through the window as he raises a hand. It’s hard to tell if it’s to signal a truce or his embarrassment, but he trudges the way up the path and the door creaks open.

“Heard you were having a bad day,” he mumbles, scratching the nape of his neck. You look at him from the corner of your eye as you continue to write down the weekly to-dos and organize papers for your dad to sign and send back to Zeus.

“Why are you here, Castellan?”

“So we’re back to that? I thought…” his voice trails off at the sound of his last name, not Luke, not angelface, or anything in between, and both of you are unsure how to proceed. Neither of you have done this before, at least not with each other. You tilt your head to the side, daring him to speak, and it reminds him of a week ago, you bathed in sunlight when he leaned in and kissed you. Though if he did that right now, he’s not sure how you’d react. 

“It’s just a bad day,” you whisper in defeat, lilac eyes wilting in front of him like an overwatered flower.

He realizes then that he cares for you more than he knows how to. And Luke knows what it means when you’re having a bad day.

There’s a deranged look in your eye, a subtle eye twitch and clench of your jaw that is almost insusceptible to the average demigod, but he knows you’re on edge, having taunted you mercilessly until you scream, cry, laugh, or all of the above. But most of all you look tired and in need of someone who knows how it feels to be underappreciated. 

“D’s a great dad to the twins. But I just feel like… maybe he wasn’t meant to be mine,” you whisper, rolling your tongue against the front of your teeth to push back the sob a 14-year-old version of you would let out deep in the dark of cabin 11, having been there for months and knowing Dionysus was your father and waiting for him to see you. To know you. 

“Giving me a hard time about all of this,” you say, hands gesturing to the things you have to prepare for him by morning. You’re overworked, underpaid, and definitely not appreciated— and Luke decides he hates your dad for what he puts you through, not just as a shitty camp director but as a shitty dad. He’s learned to live with the hurt—to use it to fuel his vengeance for how he plans to make the world better. But your ambition makes you change yourself constantly to try to be better. Both fatal flaws are fueled by the ignorance of your fathers. He knows the feeling all too well. He knows you.

“What do you need?” he asks simply, stepping closer to your form hunched over the desk.

“I can do it, you know. D’s wrong about me,” you whisper, and the words come out sounding so desperate for him to believe the performance you always put on that you avert your eyes.

He doesn’t need to be convinced; instead, he holds his arms out waiting for you to let you make the next move. Luke is neither a fool nor a knave— there are no tricks here, no hidden agenda as he watches you try to compose yourself with a deep breath instead of showing him the real you. The one who’s beneath the mask of being head counselor, your father’s saving grace, and the one who carries her responsibilities like Atlas carries the weight of the sky.

“I know you can. You always have. You really think I’m here to help you file paperwork?” He means it. 

“Will you let me?” Whether he meant sharing the workload or being there for you, you wouldn’t dare to ask. It’s all the same, anyway—laying yourself bare for someone to peek into your mind and have them not laugh at it.

Suddenly you speak, and the intensity of your tone makes him straighten his posture. 

“Sometimes… Do you ever feel the need to just…”

“What?” He reaches out to tug your hair, and in the dim light, he can see the bloom of your cheeks. You’re shy, and Luke thinks you look soft like this, wary of how he perceives you.

“I shouldn’t.” Fuck the gods. He can see the thought form in your eyes, the heat of your stare tearing through his, and his lips pull into a smirk.

“What was that, trouble?” 

“Luke, don’t be an asshole…” You say warily, biting the inside of your cheek. There’s no way you’re going down in the history books for cursing the gods because Luke Castellan of all people made you. 

“I thought you liked me like that,” he’s grinning now, and grabbing your chin lightly, mouthing the words to echo your thoughts. 

Fuck the gods.

“Fuck.” you whisper, before your voice fails you, your eyes closing both from his touch and the genuine fear of the heavens falling down from the sacrilege falling from your lips.

“Louder,” he whispers, pulling your face up close to his, “come on, you used to be more fun, trouble. I believe in you.”

“Fuck!” you say louder and he’s whispering in your ear, urging you to toe the line between perfect child and degenerate.

“Say it again.”

“FUCK! FUCK THE…” you yell before you sigh exasperatedly, eyes widening as you feel the breath release from your chest before your head lolls onto his shoulder. 

“Gods, you’re fucking insane, Castellan.”

He laughs lowly, and it sounds as sweet as sin. Your smiling lips make an imprint on his collarbone, and he wishes they would sear themselves on there for the rest of eternity.

“Hey, I get it from you. Feel better?”

To be seen is a fickle thing. But to be known is something more intimate, and nothing will be able to erase the connection you both share—fatal flaws and all. There are things you can’t change about people, what they are at their core, and so he takes what you hate about yourself with both hands and pulls you towards his chest until you settle against him with a sniffle. Luke tilts your chin up again, a rough thumb wiping away evidence of your watery smile. He thinks he sees a glimpse of a past you—a younger one that dyed his socks purple to make him feel like he belongs here. And he knows now that he does belong with you, right here as he holds you in the quiet of the Big House.

“Ugh, I’ll kiss you later, I still have to finish up here. You’re not off the hook, angelface.” You sigh, pushing away from him before he tugs you back, your feet stumbling as you roll your eyes at his impish expression.

“Let me make it up to you, trouble.”

“What, so you run away again?” you scoff, snickering at the sight of his ego being taken down a notch.

“I’ve just….I don’t know how to do all of this with you. Guess I’m worried it won’t meet your expectations, Miss Head Counselor.” A boyish sort of bashfulness crosses his features, and he’s twirling a piece of your hair in his hands like spinning silk.

“I just hope you never stop surprising me. That’s all I ask.”

Your hand touches his wrist lightly, and he sighs like you’ve already taken his breath away.

“I keep my promises. Do you?”

“Who said a kiss was a promise? I meant it as a threat,” you laugh before he’s pressing your hips into the table, nose nudging against yours and suddenly work is off the table for the rest of the night.

You on the table, however, well... that could be negotiated.

“I knew something was wrong with me when your so-called threats got less scary and more sexy,” Luke teases, running a finger on the side of your cheek. His breath tickles your lips, and you can imagine the rage your father would feel if he caught the two of you in his office like this. Besides the blatant defiance, you briefly wonder if your rebellion would get him to respect you more. An interesting thought.

“You’re absolutely terrible. I need to get this done… The gods don’t wait for us.”

A weak sigh leaves your mouth as your brain is already riddled with thoughts of him and he closes the gap between your lips.

“They can wait until morning. For now, you’re mine.”

—

“You can’t love someone unless you love yourself first — bullshit.

I have never loved myself.

But you —

Oh god, I loved you so much I forgot what hating myself felt like. (via swxrn-in)”

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan fanfic #pjo x reader #pjo imagine #made by ma1dita ♥︎ #trouble!verse #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan angst #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[popponn]

xavier rarely wakes up before you. most of the time, you will find his eyes still closed with his arms clinging to you or around you one way or another. but, on the days when his blue eyes are the ones that greet you first thing in the morning, you will be greeted with a soft whispered ‘good morning’ spoken in his morning voice. these kinds of mornings will start slowly with a shared smile and quiet conversation about mundane, small things. it could be the cat he saw yesterday or that particularly funny part from his dream. then, it will end with his nose brushing against yours gently. sometimes it will lead to a kiss, sometimes he will simply stay there with your forehead against each other’s. sometimes, it will lead to long hours of cuddling and going back to sleep. it is after all that, he will finally start his day along with yours. though, of course, as an end note, even if he doesn’t wake up first, please do always let him begin his days with you. he will still be drowsy—like always—but in a very embarrassingly obvious manner that his expression can’t hide, he will be happy.

zayne seems to develop a habit of taking care of your clothing at some point. it is subtle enough, but it is undeniably there. he often crouches down to tie your shoes for you—without you asking, despite your protests. if you say he doesn’t have to, he will simply say that it is more effective or faster that way, or that he simply doesn’t see a reason not to. if you feel bad, you could return him by doing a favor anyway, he reasons. afterward, it will continue into him adjusting the scarf around your neck, tidying a crease on your collar, or zipping up your jacket right before the two of you go out. he too doesn’t shy from putting your lipstick or lip balm on for you. at some point, during a break day, you might find him sitting on the sofa, reading and watching tutorials about skincare or makeup. if you approach him, expect him to ask you to watch it along with him, though in through mister doctor fashion it might lead to journal and research about cosmetics that he will read to you.

rafayel loves your attention. and it shows—in a very annoying way that unfortunately has found its way to be adorable to your heart. he unabashedly wears a smug smile and keeps on mentioning how you couldn’t stay away from him whenever he spoons you. if you are the one spooning him, turns out he is not above acting like a spoiled brat who demands affection until he is sated. in a way, it is similar to having a puppy that is a fish and a lover at the same time. but beyond all his louder actions, there will always be a part of him that is softer in the way of a cozy rain and a warm blanket. it’s the part of him who will always listen to whatever you say and the part of him that will, will always have you as his ‘happy ending’ no matter what. the part of him that shows itself in the form of a smile full of yearning even when he cups your face with both of his hands. he has his secrets and his affection for you is not one of them. yet, despite everything, it still feels like he couldn’t quite manage to get all of it out for you. so, at least, when it is time for him to give you a glimpse into how much he holds you dear, do give him your undivided attention.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace imagines #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace fluff #drabbles #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #happy valentine btw!!!! #one day i want to properly write a fic for this series but until then this is my first offering #rafayel is an experience to write recently because i feel like i need to pinpoint his personality and demanour. #xavier is easier for reasons. while dr zayne is just turbo yearning ten thousand. lipstick scene in the event change lives

[moon-rivr]

silly list of hc’s about cat dad! miguel to get me out of a writing slump :p (pretty sure i did it wrong 😭)

cat owner! miguel who swore he didn’t want the cat you’d found off the street, demanding for you to take it back where you found it.

“i don’t have time to deal with that cat, just take it back where you found it. quien sabe, de pronto hasta tiene pulgas,” his tone was firm as he spoke, making it clear that he wasn’t comfortable with the cat being here. “c’mon.. i’ll take care of it. you won’t even notice that she’s here. please?” you held the cat up, your puppy eyes and the cat’s pleading look melting his resolve bit by bit. “fine. but if she so much as scratches the couch, she’s out.” (who knows, it might even have fleas)

cat owner! miguel who swore he didn’t like the cat, despite the fact that he made sure not to finish his food just to leave it some leftovers.

“is something wrong with the food? you usually like to lick the plate clean,” you noted after seeing that miguel separated a bit of his food to the side of the plate. “no. i’m just saving some up for the cat so she doesn’t have to eat that kibble alone,” he explained like it should’ve been obvious. you hid the smile on your face as you noted the way that miguel called the cat over after pouring the leftovers in the bowl, his gaze intently on the cat as she ate her food like he wanted to make sure she liked it.

cat owner! miguel who fell asleep on the couch with the kitten sprawled out on his chest, hand on its back mid stroke as they both snored.

you’d thought that your eyes were deceiving you after a long day of work, that your exhaustion had affected your vision by now. you rubbed your eyes a couple times, seeing miguel sleeping comfortably with the cat after he’d claimed that it was time to start looking for a new home for her. you went over to put a blanket over them, noticing that he’d bought a collar for her with the name you were both discussing earlier that week. ‘florecita’ written on the small pendant along with his contact information. (little flower)

cat dad! miguel who finally admitted that the cat wasn’t ‘all too bad’ when you caught him putting a spider-man costume similar to his own on the cat for halloween.

“okay, maybe we shouldn’t kick her out. she’s actually pretty well behaved when it comes down to it,” he admitted, his face turned away from you as he worked out the final design on the cat. “you’re dressing her up like you?” you inquired, noticing the all too familiar red and blue design. “well yeah, she’s gonna look like the coolest cat in the neighborhood,” he told you, florecita letting out a meow like she was agreeing with him.

cat dad! miguel who was completely surprised to find out the sweet girl he’d been cuddling with when you weren’t home turned out to be a boy.

“ay florecita, you don’t know how hard it was to decide on your name just to have to change it,” he spoke to the cat while he held it in his arms, the shock starting to wear off as the two of you walked back home from the vet. “we could just call him garfield,” you suggested, since the two of you noticed that the cat always lingered at the table whenever you had lasagna. “garfield it is, mijo,” he spoke, more so to the cat as he stroked its back.

cat dad! miguel who got subjected to your relentless teasing about how reluctant he’d been to let the cat in at first.

“thought you didn’t like the cat,” you murmured, watching as miguel made a tuna cake for the cat’s first year with the two of you. “isn’t that joke starting to run its course?” he grumbled, holding the cat up to the cake as miguel blew on the candle. “just saying, you’re acting really friendly for someone who didn’t want it at first,” you replied, taking a seat at the table as miguel fed small pieces to garfield.

cat dad! miguel who can’t picture coming home without the cat being there waiting for him anymore, the comfort of being by your side and the cat’s being his motivation for every mission that he goes by.

he’d never been one for having wallpapers on his gizmo, but he’d selected one that had both of you with the cat on it. he found it to be somewhat of a lighthouse in the middle of a storm, anchoring him back home whenever he thought that he’d lost everything. whenever he thought that he had nothing to fight for anymore, the picture reminding him of two of the things that he cared about the most.

#moon-rivr #miguel o’hara #this is really just based on my dad’s reaction to my dog 😭 #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you

[dxstopiaa]

Close Confinement

Synopsis: Party games were a great way to pass the time, but seven whole minutes with the scribe himself? [Request]

Characters: Al Haitham x Fem! Reader.

Warnings: NSFW content, interact at your own risk. [Includes: Soft sex, Virginity loss, semi-public sex, praise, pet names] [it took me a while to write this, but i hope you like it! <3]

Boring, tiresome and irrelevant.

The trinity of words which circulated the young post-graduate’s mind, all to describe the topic of socialising and parties. If it was up to his own decision, Al Haitham would’ve rejected the offer in less than a second. However, it was not.

Duties and desideratum of the Akademiya’s students, he was told. According to many of the matra, there was a high demand of past students requesting a sort of reunion— a celebration, as illustrated on the infamous community message board.

In short, the Acting Grand Sage had no choice but to cater to their desires, hence the situation he found himself in. Snapping back from his thoughts, he glanced back at the venue he had organised, half proudly, half nonchalantly. Not too bad for the first try.

Of course, with the help of his rather irritating roommate, who wasn’t as insufferable when he had something to occupy himself with. Kaveh stood expectantly beside the Scribe, tapping his pen on his pale lips, surveying the checklist he had prepared. The quiet hum which left him already told he was satisfied enough.

One topic that Al Haitham didn’t see on aforementioned list was guest entertainment, something that he ignored in hopes of not having to deal with it. Spoiler from his future self— that approach did not go to plan.

Instead, the Acting Grand Sage found himself musing over you, who currently sat opposite from him. That sweet, soft-hearted girl who always greeted him so kindly, always keen to listen to his theses and reports with such attention. Even now, you just looked too cute for the most stoic of men to ignore. The Scribe would gladly play any silly game to amuse you.

“Al Haitham, just spin the bottle already!” Cyno groaned, wanting nothing more than to get this stress-inducing situation over with. A series of agreements from the other two graduates followed. You merely stared at him with anticipation.

He’s changed a lot, you thought. Appearance wise, his silver tresses were more the shade of oxidised metal, not to mention his muscular physique, just how much has he undergone in recent years? Still as nerdy as ever though, another book resting on his lap.

The ashen-haired scholar scoffed—smoothing his fingers over the virescent glass, pushing it into a spinning motion. Friction worked its magic, slowing down till the neck of the bottle faced directly towards you.

The group immediately began snickering, observing your cheeks redden, putting the ripest of berries to shame. You looked up again, witnessing the smug expression of success on their faces. The tension between you both was overpowering, about time they did something about it.

“That settles it then! Go on..” Kaveh coerced, pushing the both of you into a poorly-furnished conference room to the left of the lounge and locking the door from the outside.

Cliché. Was this a punishment or rather a reward from the gods?

Al Haitham didn’t know what to do with himself. This wasn’t like him at all to be thinking in such ways but— Archons, your dress barely covered your thighs from him.

You were biting the insides of your cheek, averting your eyes to anywhere but him, despite only being a few inches away. You’d understand his actions soon enough, hopefully.

He cupped your face with his palm, brushing away stray strands of hair that obstructed the view of your precious eyes. Your breath hitched, leaning into his gentle touch. He pulled you in closer, intending to wordlessly claim you as his own.

“May I?” Al Haitham pleaded, his piercing, turquoise irises tainted with affection. His voice was quiet— almost strained, like he was afraid of rejection, something you’d never do to him.

You hastily nodded your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. He kissed you delicately, a faint taste of sweet wine still left on his lips. The Scribe trapped your body against the wall, pulling away just to kiss you again at the sight of your smudged lipstick. His mouth trailed down to your neck as his hands did to your waist.

His touch was hypnotic— your mind was hazy and overcast with him, countless dreams of this years ago now enacted in-front of you. His hands travelled further, grasping onto the underside of your thighs and wrapping your legs around him to stand comfortably imbetween them.

Al Haitham was curious as to how you’d react. Would you be quiet and anxious, rarely moaning and instead gasping? Or would you be vocal, crying his name out at any given moment? He traced a slender finger over the front of your panties, observing you squirm into his touch.

“Haitham…” You muttered, a flutter of butterflies swarming deep within, each flickering motion of a wing seeming to spur a different emotion. Desperation, apprehension and lust.

“Yes, darling?” He continued to skim over your clit underneath the fabric, clouding your thought process over. You reached to cover your mouth, whimpering into your own hand.

“I haven’t done this before—” You whined upon feeling his clothed erection press up against you, needily rolling your hips against him. Your face flushed from the confession and the sinful noise you let out.

“I’ll be gentle, angel.” The Scribe comforted, which felt strange for him to utter such words. Anyone who knew the scholar would be aware of his abrasive, arrogant nature— but his heart followed no limits when it came to you.

And gentle he was, softly pleasuring you with skilled fingers, coaxing angelic sounds from your pretty, hesitant lips. Al Haitham wanted nothing more than to see them swollen and wet from kisses. A few seconds later you were essentially begging for his cock, palming his crotch with your inexperienced hand.

Your pleads were just adorable, who was he to deny you of what you wanted? With his fingers wet with your slick, he slid them over his flushed tip. It was quite the confidence boost for you to exclusively see the Acting Grand Sage deteriorated to this mindless state.

He prodded at your pussy, barely even managing to hilt himself with you clenching so tightly, hearing your timid sobs from the stretch, tears forming in your eyes.

“I know, darling, try to relax for me…” Al Haitham amorously whispered, planting short-lived pecks on your forehead whilst he massaged your thighs softly, giving you a few moments to adjust before beginning to move.

The feeling of his girth dragging against your insides was a simultaneous sensation of pain and pleasure. You struggled to restrain yourself, opting to bury your face against the scholar’s chest. With each prolonged thrust, your brain struggled to comprehend anything else.

“You’re doing so well, angel.” Al Haitham could feel you squeezing around his cock at his words, murmuring how it was all too much for you, phrases adjourned by blissful moans. You were close, those erotic grunts from his ajar mouth did nothing but worsen the tingling in your lower abdomen.

A final firm thrust and you finished around his cock, gripping onto him so much that he came inside of you. Your sublime expression so innocent, eyes half-lidded in euphoria. The Scribe pulled out, letting you stumble against him for support.

“So good for me, let me clean you up, sweetheart.”

The long-forgotten graduates were still at the very same table, entertaining themselves with numerous glasses of alcohol and a card game of the General’s choice. It’d be a complete lie if they were to say they hadn’t had a clue about your prior predicament.

The lipstick stains over Al Haitham’s face and neck, his dishevelled hair accompanied with your dress creased and legs still trembling from implied events— all telltale signs of something more explicit.

“It’s called seven minutes in heaven, not thirty minutes making your neighbour’s ears hell!” An embarrassed complaint from an even more ashamed blonde, flicking a card at his chuckling roommate.

#we’re zhongli and xiao lovers here #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #alhaitham #genshin alhaitham #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x fem!reader #al haitham x reader #kaveh #cyno #genshin kaveh #genshin cyno #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #please i hope my attention hasn’t decreased #repost yes

[pickingupmymercedes]

Show me you care - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

SMUT - NSFW

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, brat Lewis, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie.

Also, wrap it before you tap it

wordcount: <1k

a/n: So, an anon send an ask to @a-moment-captured and it gave me ideas. I didn't really write Lewis as classic anger-ish pissed off, but as closed-off/ brat-ish frustated, hope that's okay. It's also a short one.

Wrote it in one go, so not really proofread

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT.

______________________________________________________________

Their laughs in the background irked you at all the wrong places, the banter, the photos, online comments they kept checking and laughing at made your blood boil. The whole weekend was frustrating, and sure they were trying to make the air less dense for everyone’s sake, but still, how unbothered the three of them acted was annoying to you.

“Hm… would you guys mind going to that food stall by the hospitality to get me a bowl of something? I could really use some food to get through this thing.” Your voice almost cracking mid-way through, eyes barely looking up from the computer as you reviewed the debrief that would make its way to the amg board back in Germany, your writing relaying how bad the weekend had gone, again.

“Sure… the usual?” Daniel asked already halfway through the door with a chatty Miles attached to him as you nodded and mouthed a thank you, looking back to the screen right after.

“Just write double dnf” Lewis’ voice full of sarcasm echoed in the dark and empty rooms of the almost empty garage.

“Okay, I’m done with the bullshit remarks. That’s not you… not anymore.” You closed the notebook in your laps, annoyance clear in your voice as you approached him seated at the sofa.

“What?!” A testing tone to his voice, he knew what you were talking about and it was almost as if he wanted you to bring it up. You sighted exasperatingly as you reach for his hand.

“Show me you care, Lewis.” Your eyes burned into his, daring him to avoid your demand, to show how the situation truly affected him.

“You don’t want that, love” His pupils got more dilated by the second, his breath hitching in his throat.

“I’m asking you to, show me how much you want this, because I know you do”

He flipped you around in a swift move, his breath now on your neck as one of his hands found their way to your throat while the other pulled you into his chest, his lips finding their way around the uncovered parts of your shoulders.

“I need this last win as much as I need to have you, right now”

The hoarse of his voice while his fingers fiddled with the bottom of your pants made the room grow muffed around you both, his lips leaving ghost like touches after they had left that spot. His heavy breathing mesmerizing as he found his way around your and his pants.

His hand circling around your panties until he put them to the side, his finger on your clit and entrance, your spine curving back almost on its own to feel his radiating warmth.

“You’re always so wet, so needy” He didn’t give you any warning when his dick first stretched you – or maybe he did but you didn’t really listen, too lost in his smell and the feel of his body, only really realizing he had you bent over when you felt the fabric under your stretched arms.

His member reaching painfully slow inside you as he kept going in until he bottomed. Your walls itched for any sort of movement but he kept a tight hold of your hips as you collapsed forwards to the sofa, his hands holding you by the waist as his face contorted in pleasure.

When he finally moved his pace was relentless, each thrust went deep enough to hit your cervix, each time you failed to suppress the moan that left your mouth. Your mind a delicious blank as the only thing that computed was how good he felt around your walls and that his grips on your waist was sure to leave marks.

It wasn’t long before his rhythm faltered, his knees almost buckling as his orgasm hit, holding up just enough to circle your clit for a few moments until you too exploded. Your vision going blank for a while, the only feeling was of his arms holding your back to his chest as his throat left a guttural moan when he pulled out from you.

“Don’t hide from me. I know you care” Your arms reached to his face when you turned into his embrace, his eyes softer now but with a tinge of hurt. His lips went to your forehead, a softness in how he held and moved in striking contrast to his grasp just a few minutes before, his arms engulfing you into his arms in the small sofa of the room.

His friends’ laughter got closer by the second until the lock on the door tried to turn while you and Lewis amusedly heard them call out for you two.

“Shh, let them wonder where we’re at.” He whispered by your head, kissing your head just as his arms held you down.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton

[eluxcastar]

hi ive never written a request before so im sorry if its bad or too vague

could you write a dottore with an adopted child reader? like maybe he found them on the outskirts of a small town and just was like “im adopting you now”?

Dottore slightly dadfailing his way to fatherhood

── ୨୧：il dottore & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: dadtore picks up a kid and takes it in like a box kitten

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, reader's backstory is mostly ambiguous, this is literally exactly as is written on the tin

୨୧﹑words :: 753

you're doing just fine honey I'm sorry you've had to wait so long for me to complete this and the fact that it's basically a ramble, I'm just getting back into it so please forgive that it's slightly messy

It was cold when he found you, too cold for a child to wander about unchecked. Little children were never his thing, but scooping you up under your arms like a boneless little ragdoll and carting you off with him that night felt right somehow.

It would be simple to discard you on the doorstep of the House of the Hearth and simply forget you had existed, as that is hardly uncommon in the children there. Being delegated to the orphanage by a Harbinger is usually a visual shorthand: "They had parents once- just yesterday, in fact. Thanks to the Fatui's involvement, they don't anymore."

You're different. Circumstances demand it when Dottore has no access to the House.

Dottore swaddled you in his coat, shedding it in the same motion he scooped you up, carried you back into town where he could set you up on the closest thing you could get to a bed, situated on a chair in the basement where he got you a change of clothes. You didn't ask where they came from or what he did with your old clothes.

A bath of warm water did you well, easing the chill in your bones and washing away the dirt sticking to your skin. You popped the soapy bubbles with your fingers and sat quietly as the water ran over you. Dottore is good at giving baths, experienced from the days of sterilising subjects.

It's nice to feel clean. Dottore let you get out on your own and dress yourself in a fresh change of clothes.

The pillows were thin, blankets not enough to keep out the cold, but for the first night, he let you keep his coat.

Perhaps he intended to turn you over at that time, but a month has passed, and nothing has happened. You thought Dottore would be cold and distant, but he lets you poke around and play with things befitting a child. You watch and observe what he does but don't understand it. Many ask, and he evades answering.

Dottore isn't one for affection, not typically, and you've given up on having him read to you or play with you. It's not in his nature to treat you too softly. You have to be self-sufficient because his work demands it, and while he can monitor you, he can't stop to cut the crust off your sandwiches or do any more than offer that you sit by his side when you get scared.

He cares, but not typically. At first, it's almost...comforting how little he tries to push you into normalcy when you're so used to being by yourself. You can wander and aren't coddled too much beyond being unable to get into dangerous things.

You're well-fed and well-dressed, and you get to listen to Scaramouche, the strange doll man when he comes down. By all means, you are well-kept for a child. Apparently, it is because he got attached, as Scaramouche put it.

You don't quite understand how that could motivate him until he points out everything he's done, from making you comfortable to buying you clothes and even embracing you as his own. Rearranging the way he stores things to practically babyproof his lab was a feat just so you could wander around it safely in a place where he can watch you easily. How could he give you up? He obviously has no intention to.

It feels like the lightbulb to your little mind that sets off a domino effect as you look around you and start to realise these things. There is almost the sense that, despite Dottore’s informality towards his role as a father, Dottore doesn't want to give you up to the orphanage and maybe never did in the first place.

He likes it when you pester him and have to rely on him. He set everything that could kill you on the highest possible shelf, took note of the clothes you didn't like, the foods that put you off eating and collected the blankets he could find to make your bed more cosy, the occasional toy, plenty of visitors coming in and out to listen to. It's always warm where you sit.

Dottore let you keep borrowing his coat to sleep under, and you even convinced him to read you a storybook, if only once. There are many nights you fall asleep somewhere and wake up wrapped up in blankets and his coat, just as you like.

It seems very pleasant to live this way.

#♡ — anon visit. #✦ — headcanons. #✦ — fluff. #dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

[blackopals-world]

Do you take fanfic request? This isn’t my own yuu but I’d love to see your vet!yuu taking care of the Savanaclaw boys but when they’re suddenly turned into their kids selves!

Okay, I have time.

Vet!Yuu x Leona, Ruggie, and Jack (platonic bc babies)

The job of a resident vet is never done. The constant calls to Savanaclaw for almost every task involving health checks, shots, and sprain takes the life out of you. Couple that with the most uncooperative patients and you get exhausted.

The school nurse had handed their duties off to Yuu so they didn't collapse after another beastman ran from their scheduled vaccination.

But now Yuu had three new things dropped on them. Leona, Ruggie, and Jack all had been affected by a potions incident (when is it ever not). Until Crewel came back with the antidote Yuu has to watch them.

Leona was about 3, Ruggie was 2 and Jack was somewhere around 10-12 months.

Yuu began preparing food for around the clock feeding. Mainly shredded meat for Leona and Ruggie and a mixture of milk and blended meat for Jack to make wetfood.

Leona

It's not too bad actually. Lion cubs sleep about 20 hours a day and only wake to eat and play. Leona was already lazy as is so it shouldn't be too hard.

Leona's hair was much lighter than it was before. It was a tawny brown with spots. His hair was also much shorter since he had yet to grow his mane.

He couldn't even growl when he demanded to be fed and all that came out was a squeaky mew.

Yuu remembered how Leona's sister-in-law and brother gushed about how cute Leona was as a kid and they had to agree.

Leona was much more cheerful than before and eyed everything with curiosity and challenge. He'd eagerly explore and claim everything. And when it was nap time he'd roll on his back and sleep with his arms wrapped around himself.

Yuu had learned that Leona would only stay put when he was awake if Yuu ordered him to. Like a mother lion hiding her cubs in the African bush Yuu would place the wondering cub somewhere safe while they got food to bring back.

Leona would use Yuu to play fight as he nipped Yuu's ears after climbing on their back and would search for Yuu's tail to bite. He was frustrated when he couldn't find a tail.

Leona was jealous of the other cubs and would constantly get in the middle whenever Yuu picked up and take care of the others.

Yuu's patience wasn't limitless though and after Leona got too close to Ruggie he was placed in front of a TV with Jack to watch Bluey. Only for Leona to pin Jack down to play fight. Jack squirmed and yipped under the older lion before crying.

He got snatched up by the scruff because he was too big to be wrestling with the pup.

Yuu thought it would be best to call Leona's family to watch him. They were elated to spoil him all over again. They really missed their cub.

Leona didn't want to leave and protested until the queen chuffed at him to follow.

Ruggie

Oh no.Nonono! Hyena pups are dangerous.

Ruggie might be mischievous but he's harmless. But as a pup...

Yuu immediately did the responsible thing and built a barrier between Ruggie and the other cubs. Hyenas do best as only children ironically.

Say what you want but Hyenas are born aggressive. In fact, when they are born they will begin attacking their littermates, especially those of the same gender and they will kill each other. This means less competition for food. They are social animals which means showing dominance is important from birth.

There's also the fact that their bite is literally worse than their bark. Ruggie would gladly bite Jack's fragile neck the moment the barricade goes down. Jack was currently the smallest of the three and an easy target.

Ruggie isn't being murderous and his intention isn't to hurt anyone but Hyenas are built differently from the rest. Stronger jaws, thicker skin, and high immunity makes him dangerous on principle.

Yuu had seen caretakers separate many hyena litters to keep them safe and Yuu knows its only responsible. No amount of whining from Ruggie will convince them to set him free. He stays in baby jail.

Ruggie was dangerous cute though with this hair much darker and his tiny yips. That is until Ruggie wanted Yuu to know he was hungry.

Unlike the others who had cute little mews and whines, hyenas had a unique sound to get mom's attention. It's called Squitting and the sounds like nails on chalkboards but worse. And Ruggie is a loud pup. Its the equivalent to psychological terrorism until Ruggie is fed and ironically not just any food will do.

Ruggie saw Jack getting hand fed earlier and demands the same. (Hyenas only get what they want with boldness) Yuu gives in as they dodge the pup's every attempt to chew up their fingers.

Yuu was exhausted and took a nap when Ruggie finally went to sleep only to wake up when the hyena managed to lure Leona to where the makeshift baby cage was. Ruggie clearly wanted to do more than nip this time.

After removing the lion cub, Ruggie was given stuffed animals to rip apart instead. Many toys were beheaded that day.

Jack

A normal one thank god! Okay, not normal but certainly contained.

He was younger than the other two and while he can crawl he wasn't walking. He couldn't cause any trouble.

Jack had slightly darker hair at his age and bright blue eyes. They would change when he got older. He also clearly couldn't see or hear well yet. His ears were still curled.

Okay, that last part was not true. Jack wasn't a biter but he would nibble on Yuu when he got hungry. He was clingy and because he was younger than the others he'd get preferential treatment. Leona and Ruggie hated that. Every time Yuu picked him up the others began fussing and yelling. But if Yuu put him down Jack would begin crying and howling.

When it was time for Jack to 'go' Yuu had to massage Jack's belly to encourage him. Yuu wondered if it was the same for human babies because they were surprised by how well it worked. They would also hold this over Jack's head that they changed his diapers.

When he wanted Leona's toy he'd roll around and whine while trying to take it. It's normal behavior for a pup.

Wolf pups are spoiled by the pack. All older members give into their whelp's desires and Jack wants Leona to give in. This "Puppy privilege" won't work on Leona though who hissed at the pup.

When that didn't work Jack whined for Yuu to get it for him which didn't work. Jack tried his best though as he nuzzled into Yuu's body. Yuu gave him a different toy instead.

Thankfully Jack didn't get attacked by the others and went to sleep.

End

Yuu thanked any merciful deity when the boys turned back. They had no interest and raising them.

Human or beast babies are trouble especially ones with instincts to cause trouble. They are lucky they were cute.

#vet!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu #twisted wonderland leona #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland ruggie #twst ruggie #ruggie x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #twst jack x reader #jack howl x reader #jack howl #twst jack

[wyvernest]

Can i request headcandons of Miguel o'hara with a shy nurse reader who is constantly tired? Being nurse and spider person is a physically and mentally demanding job and i want comfort, but its okay if you don't want to make this request, have a nice day/afternoon/night

pairing: miguel x gn!spider!reader

warnings: none, fluff

Miguel would be a very considerate lover.

At first, it takes him a while to let himself trust you completely, to recognise the risk of his love not being equally reciprocated, but eventually he allows himself to fall for you the way he feels he needs to so badly.

His love languages are acts of service and quality time. Meaning he will seek to help you with every chance he gets; to make things easier for you to carry, or even carry them himself whenever possible. 

When you get home late after a long shift, he orders your favourite food. He is very thoughtful and attentive about the things that may spark even a slither of joy at the end of the day for your exhausted self. He won't let you do any chores, taking care of everything for you the same way he knows you would do for him in return.

He runs a warm shower for you, preparing all the lotions he has watched you use on yourself ever since you moved in together.

He joins you in the shower, shampooing the stress out of your hair, large hands slowly offering you the warmth you've missed all day long.

He would listen to you talk about what you've done, all the good and the bad things that come intertwined with the two jobs you're trying to maintain. Humming every once in a while as a sign he's still listening, still as interested as ever in all the little things you want to tell him.

With a heavy sigh, you lean back into him, reveling in the unfaltering strength of his affection for you.

He would hold you close before sleep, making sure you feel as safe and as relaxed as possible.

If you're in the mood for it, he'd cuddle with you, just to caress all the stress and worries away from you.

His whole body encompassing yours, you fall asleep in his arms, in his loving embrace, shielded from the immense tiredness you would otherwise have to endure without him.

a/n: i had just finished a huuge project and my back hurts like hell so this request hit home

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x y/n #miguel spiderverse

[comatosebunny09]

These meetings always drag on for what feels like centuries.

His council drones on about something Astarion can’t be bothered to follow. It’s a bad habit he’s developed as of late, tuning out what he doesn’t deem important. Luckily, one of his advisors will catch him up on the essentials later.

Poor Astarion can’t focus to save his life, too swept up in the delectable aroma filling his lungs and the gentle shift of pressure behind him.

A glance disguised as a cough over his shoulder reveals what he already knows. Of course, it’s your fragrance turning his brain to mush. His stunning, ever-loyal bodyguard, standing in good form behind him. Your gazes meet for the briefest of seconds before you return your attention to the wall, and you quietly clear your throat. 

Astarion hides a youthful grin behind his hand when he turns back. His chest swells triumphantly as he taps his pen against the cherrywood table, feigning interest in this meeting. He’s much too distracted now, reveling in how he’s flustered you again. Always during the most inappropriate moments, wending through your stoic exterior.    

Try as you might to mask your feelings, Astarion can smell how you yearn for him. Smells pheromones wafting off your skin, blood warming your veins, and your ache for him pooling in your stomach. Best of all, he can hear how much you crave him. Your throat bobs with how thickly you swallow. Your breaths are labored, and your heart pumps eagerly to accommodate whatever nerves overhaul your body. 

Astarion fixes his collar with a wistful sigh. He cradles his cheek in his palm as he scribbles in his notebook, engulfed by the maelstrom of his thoughts. Consumed by the thought of you.  

He hasn’t the foggiest why you continue with this game of cat and mouse; why you carry on as if your fingers don’t itch to touch him. As if your lips don’t ache to feel and taste his. Like your heart doesn’t beat a little faster when he’s near. He’s adored you for quite some time now. Reserved a place in his cold, silent heart just for you, the cobwebs brushed away and sunlight slinking in through its cracks.

He hasn’t exactly been subtle with his advances.  

Often, he’ll whisper saccharine words against the shell of your ear when he passes you during his gatherings, a cautious hand smoothing your hair away from your cheek. He’s known to pilfer little glances at you during his meetings, smiling like an enamored fool when you catch him, saturating his mind with endorphins.

He tends to corner you in the safety of his quarters, caging you between his body and whatever wall you find yourself backed into. Breathes hotly against the slope of your shoulder, teasing you until your neck and cheeks explode with heat, and you’re dizzy from the headiness of it all.

Occasionally, his fingers brush against yours whilst walking side-by-side through the quiet hallways of his castle. And sometimes, he entertains the idea of holding your hand, filling the spaces between your fingers with his, and squeezing to let you know what he feels for you is very much real.   

You become such a delightful sight when you scramble for words and skitter away from his affections like you’ve been branded by fire. 

It's a game Astarion likes to play, seeing how far he can push you until your defenses crumble and you succumb to your desires. There’s no one holding a sword to your neck. No one demanding you stave off his advances or embrace them. But he knows that you know he would throw his kingdom to hell for you, craving you more than the air filtering through his lungs.

He shudders at the thought. How violently his passion burns. It’s been far too long since he’s felt like this about anyone.  

The gathering carries on in a muddled blur, filled with the useless prattle of his kingdom’s finest. He’s all but remorseful when it draws to its conclusion.

Astarion stands to bid his councilmen farewell, smiles rehearsed and handshakes firm. He’s found it easier to maintain this façade as long as he promises to reward himself with your presence. He watches through his peripheral as the last of his men trickles out. Patient as the maids scuttle in, clearing the table of water pitchers and glasses dripping condensation.

When he’s sure there is but the two of you left in the council chamber, Astarion heaves a sigh with the drop of his shoulders as if all the world’s weight sloughs off. The snicker you relent to the air behind makes him stiffen. He spins ‘round to regard you with a quirked brow, wiping the amused look from your face.

Rounding his chair, Astarion begins sauntering to you, steps measured and stare predatory.

“Tickled, are you?” drawls your king, swaddling you in all his eccentric, regal air when he stops before you.

He dwarfs you by a few inches, a concept that makes him smirk like the proverbial cat that’s caught the canary. A hand stuffed in his breeches pocket, he tenderly eases a lock of hair behind your ear, purposely grazing the edge of your ear. A shudder is elicited from your person, and Astarion’s smirk grows tenfold as his hand drops listlessly at his side.

You shake out of your trance, fixing your gaze on anything but him. With your hands still clasped at the small of your back, you say, “Not at all, Majesty. You just look like you survived the apocalypse.”

Astarion scoffs, throwing his hand up with a dramatic flair. “With how these idiots carry on, I might as well have.”

Another laugh rumbles in your throat, yet you quickly correct yourself, remembering your decorum.

#astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion drabble #king!astarion #royalty au #snippet #fic wip #passion project

[lovelybrooke]

Platonic Yandere House Stark

General warning for regular game of thrones nonsense (talks of death, bad parenting, gross stuff in general).

Masterlist

You were a low-born child, the youngest of six, you're parents barely had the time to take care of other siblings, the definitely didn't have enough time to watch you. After both of them coming home drunk after a long night, a lamp was knocked over, lighting your house up instantly. You were the only survivor.

It was the dead of night in winter, so the fire could be seen for miles. Other people in your small village attempted to quell the fire with whatever water they had, but your family was burnt to a crisp. You were found not too far from your home, cowering on the ground in complete shock. You were covered in dirt and soot, some burns on you, but other than that, you were unharmed. The villagers tried to get you to talk, to explain the situation, but you remained completely silent.

You were sent to Winterfell a few days later, hopefully the Starks could do something to help you recover. Though, you knew deep down you were sent away because you were too much to handle. Your village was small, the people their weak and hungry. You were seen as another mouth to feed, another orphan taking up space.

When you arrived in Winterfell, they didn't really know what to do with you. You were granted audience with Ned Stark, where your situation was explained by one of the kinder villagers who came with you. He explained that they didn't have the resources to take care of you, and that you were going to die if you didn't have a place to say.

If Ned was being honest, he didn't know what to do with you at first. He wanted to leave your fate up to the gods, before Catelyn recommended you'd work as a maid for the children. You were close in age, the same as Sansa. It would be good for you, and for the children, she thought. Ned reluctantly agreed, his honor not allowing him to simply leave a child out to die alone, especially with winter on its way.

From that day onward, you were worked as a maid for the Stark children. Your job mostly involved you cleaning rooms, serving wine, taking care of the younger children like Rickon and Bran. Because you spent so much time with Rickon, him being the youngest and all, he grow closer to you quicker than the other children. He views you as an older sibling, especially since he's very attention seeking. He's often the one more upfront about wanting you to talk, he doesn't understand why you're so quiet all the time. As you grow closer with the other siblings, they try to explain it to him, but he never truly understands.

Bran grows closer to you the more his younger brother does. Rickon used to spend a lot of time with Bran, however, after you arrived, Rickon was basically glued to your hip. A part of Bran thought you were weird, you're silent, cowardly, and small. It was obvious to everyone in Winterfell that you were weak, it often took pleading from the older workers to get you to eat, so you would have enough strength of the next day. Bran didn't have that much sympathy for you, and the two of you didn't grow closer until he was forced to spend time together. When Bran was forced by his parents to watch over his brother, you were forced by Rickon to accompany them. You'd watch the two boy's play fight together, and Bran couldn't help but grow affection for you. He started to seek you out when he needed help with anything, no matter how small. He, like Rickon, was very demanding of your time, and would often force you to sit and watch him climb whatever structure in Winterfell.

Jon relates with you because you are both outsiders. He understood and held sympathy for your position, believing you were too good to be a simple maid. In honesty, he started believing you were his sibling way before the others, simply because you too held so much in common. He took any opportunity to spend time with you, and was the one to teach you how to read a write. Once you could write, it was your only was of communicating with them, since you still refused to speak. Jon often urged you to speak to him when you were alone, but it never worked. He wanted something to hold over the head of his half siblings, something to prove that he was more than just a bastard.

Like Jon, you grew close to Theon because you were outsiders. You didn't get to spend as much time with him, both of you being too busy to actually spend time together. This didn't prevent Theon from holding a brotherly love for you. He wanted to be the one to teach you how to protect yourself, how to hunt, and he wanted to help you grow stronger. He and Catelyn are the ones who urge you to eat more, believing you to be too small for your age. He also urges you to talk to him when alone, but often grows frustrated when you don't. He may have threatened you on more than one occasion, causing you to grow apart, which he greatly regrets.

Arya simply adores you. She's never felt like she's belonged, she's always wanted to be more than just a lady. When she's with you, she feels like she can finally be herself. She begs you to sword fight with you, taking you into the woods so you can let your guard down for a small second. She brags to her siblings when you start to grow closer to her, even once getting you to laugh at her joke. She often fights with Sansa over you, getting upset when Sansa cuts off her time with you, but also wastes no time taking you from Sansa when she's not paying attention, either faking an injury or complaining to her parents.

Sansa is the exact opposite of Arya, often spending more time inside with you. She teaches you how to sew, her and her mother being the ones to fix your clothing for you. She also encourages you to relax, letting you take naps in her room, not liking the idea of you sleeping on the hard beds the maids usually sleep on. When you're not sewing with her, you're reading together. She likes doing peaceful activities with you, and doesn't like when you see her loose her composure. This usually happens when she argues with Arya, often over you.

Rob takes the longest out of the children to get used to you. Jon he understands, because they are at least somewhat related by blood. You however, are not related to them at all. You are just some random child who happened to suffer a great injustice and while he feels sympathy, he doesn't understand his siblings affection for you in the beginning. However, as you spend more time with him, he starts to understand his siblings. You are kind, and weak, and defenseless, and you need an older brother to protect you. He puts his entire being into protecting you and keeping you safe. He's constantly watching you, making sure you take care of yourself above him or his siblings.

The Stark parents are definitely worried when they start to realize their children strange obsession over you. There isn't a time where you aren't with one of their children and while that shouldn't be strange, it's the way they behave that worries them. They are possessive and delusional. One more than one occasion Sansa has referred to herself as your sister, Rob screaming at Arya when you get hurt after goofing around.

Catelyn is fiercely protective of her children, and eventually, she finds herself feeling the same way with you. You remind her so much of her children when they were young, and she worries so, so much about you. Taking care of you is what makes her grow obsessed. She needs you to be okay, and it's her who forces you to move from the maids quarters to a room of her own. She's the one who get's you to eat with the family, much to the excitement of the children. She finds herself dressing you in Stark clothing and not correcting people when they think you're her child.

Ned takes the longest to grow close to you. He doesn't spend as much time with you until Catelyn makes you join in on family events. It takes him a while to see what the others see, but once he does he grows just as protective, if not more. Eventually you're stripped of your position as his children's maids, and become a Stark.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere game of thrones #yandere fanfiction #platonic game of thrones #Yandere starks #platonic Yandere game of thrones

[moondirti]

I’m so down bad for Ghost 😭 imagine one day he catches on to the things his voice does to you, he’s talking to you one day and noticed the way you suddenly get tense the moment he praises you and then he takes it and runs with it, absolutely cocky at the fact he can ruin you without even touching you

Every time I hear a voice line or watch a cutscene with him, I get weak 😭 god just kill me pls

i listen to his voice lines to help me go to sleep at night. something about that accent, man

Ghost is not a verbal man. He's best known for his strength, brutal efficiency - that cutthroat quick thinking in moments that mean life or death. In the rare instances that his words don't form barked commands or interrogative jabs, he finds that they come out... awkward sounding. Like the consonants don't meld with the vowels, and two syllables make one. Praise, whispered nothings, affection; tender proclamations fit like kernels in the gaps between his teeth. He's just never had anyone to model it for him.

The most he gives you is a nod, a low grunt of approval when you pitch in with helpful insight during a debriefing. But for all his faults, he is nothing if not observant. Ghost picks up on the subtle hitch of your breath, the glossy sheen over your eyes that glints as you perk at the reinforcement. He's not dumb, either - he knows what it means. The rookie's got it bad; either for him, for his voice, or maybe just for any validation you can get your hands on.

It's not purposeful. At least, he doesn't intend to feed into your little secret. But it finds its way into his treatment of you, like a fixture gnawing on an ego he's tried to conceal eons ago. He hums contemplatively as you speak, echoes your advice as demand, even goes to the unprecedented extent of clipping out a husky 'good' when you hit a target right on the mark. He isn't just doing it to sate you. You're genuinely intelligent, and skilled, and absolutely fucking gorgeous when you try to hide your delighted grin behind a trembling hand.

So perhaps it's perversion. Perhaps he's an deeply disturbed individual who revels in the fact that a person as brilliant as you has likely never been told as much. He doesn't have it in him to care. It's his own little game, a whim to pass the time between gunfire and detonations.

That is, until everyone else starts to notice.

Because of course they do. Ghost rarely ever spoke before you, let alone gave out consistent praise. Consequently, they take it upon themselves to assume shit for it, crafting increasingly ridiculous rumours that put both you and him into question. It manages to inspire an acrid emotion inside him, a mix of unbridled anger and violence that has him seeing bright red. He shuts them down before they gain any traction, looming over officers who think they're being discreet. It's no wonder that, quicker than it happened, the gossip stops.

You're still outcast, though. Jealousy is a vile thing.

But it only means he has a larger chance to get you alone. And when he does?

"Chin up, sergeant. You're at a level they can never hope to reach."

The image of your parted lips sears itself onto the back of his eyelids. He looks for it in his most shameful points, a hand wrapped around his thick length as water beats down his back.

#i took it in a diff direction than you may have meant op #im sorry!! i just had to make him the tiniest bit awkward #simon 'ghost' riley #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mwii #ghost mw2 #mwii #mw2 2022 #cod mw22 #cod mwii #call of duty: modern warfare 2 #call of duty #cod #mw2 #modern warfare 2 #headcanons #thirsts #༄dee answers #ghost headcanons