#kinda want to do spooks first though

[jennifer-jeong]

[Smut] [Xiao x AFAB!Reader] Your First Time

CONTENT

NSFW, 18+, smut, afab reader (assigned female at birth), no reader pronouns mentioned, virgin Xiao and reader, kisses, handjob, oral, penetration, creampie, Xiao being mildly rough with you but mostly as gentle as possible, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOR NOTES

Kinda porn no plot but this should tie into a storyline that I have. Xiao falls for you like he does in this fic that I wrote but there’s some more development before the events in this fic should happen. I might eventually write something short and fluffy about it. Note that in canon Genshin they probably don’t have “boxers” in the modern sense LMAO I just didn’t know how to say “undergarments” without saying “undergarments” LMAOOO

Word Count: 2713

Your first time with Xiao is almost feverish with how much your bodies need each other. You’ve been together for a while now but have taken a long time to get comfortable with each other's touch, Xiao especially. He’s always been scared of hurting you and he’s also just never really understood what it’s like to need to be touched.

You lead him into it after noticing that he’s been struggling with his body’s urges after learning more about humans and how they love. While on a date in the city, he asked you why he sees some couples look at each other intoxicated when they haven’t drunk any alcohol. You answered that humans feel that way when they need each other's bodies. You swear you see a question mark appear above Xiao’s head. “Like… without their clothes on,” you explain further. More question marks seem to appear. “We’ll learn about that eventually, darling,” you reassure him. “You don’t have to understand it right away, it’s something that couples discover together,” You smile warmly at him and he does the same back.

Xiao’s mind may have been confused at the time but after seeing how other couples look at their partners, his body activated in a way he’s never experienced before. He looked at you in your pretty dress, thought about you with it off, and immediately understood.

So here you are, pinning Xiao to the bed and straddling his hips. Your lips are attached to his as his face is flushed a deep red. You have your left elbow propping you up and your right hand caressing his cheek, occasionally slipping into his hair to brush through it. Xiao doesn’t know what to do with his hands or if he’s allowed to touch you so he lightly holds onto your left bicep. His other hand falls, palm up, next to his shoulder. He fidgets with the pillow as he processes the wonderful feeling of your lips against his. You’ve kissed before but it’s never been as heated as this. It’s almost too much for him already, your hands in his hair, your tongue finally slipping into his mouth cautiously so as not to spook him, your hips on his, the smell of your perfume on your neck, and the warmth from your body radiating onto his. Xiao is already painfully hard from this alone and upon noticing, you grind your needy core into his. He lets out a moan into your mouth and surprises himself. His voice came out entirely automatically, like he couldn’t hold himself back when you finally stimulated him. He wasn’t sure how to comprehend what happened, all he knew was that he wanted more.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. But you trusted Xiao so much and you knew he felt the same way. You felt okay leading him because even though he was having trouble getting the words out, his body did the talking for him, and you could tell it wanted you as much as yours wanted him. You still took precaution multiple times though, asking him if this was okay before leading him to your bed, before laying him down, and before kissing him. He wished there was a better word for him to say than “yes” to explain how much he wanted this but it was all he could manage right now.

You break the kiss to smear your lips on his neck, pecking and asking him if he feels good, breathing in his sweet and lightly musky scent. His hands both reach towards the pillow to grip it as he moans a breathy “yes… thank you.” Your hands sneak up the bottom of his tight shirt to feel his solid muscle and his breath hitches. “You don’t need to thank me, darling” you whisper into his neck. Your hands retract slightly to start to take off his pants. “Is it okay if I take these off?” you say while sitting up slightly. He nods and helps you take them off. You leave his boxers on to help ease him into getting comfortable. You return to straddling him and palm him through the thin layer of fabric and he’s so sensitive he doesn’t know what to do. He moans and his breath quickens. You feel how big he is with your hand and it makes your core clench around nothing. The desire in your core building, turning almost unbearable and burning as you soak through your panties. As you continue, Xiao covers his eyes with his arm as if he didn’t want you to see him like this. You take in how pretty he looks as well as how muscular he actually is. He’s lean but also very toned, his abs evidently solid and chiseled as well as his upper body. You crawl up a little to peck his lips to try and comfort him and explain that since it’s a first for both of you, you’re also flustered. He moves his arm away from his face as you place one of his hands on your waist and the other on your chest. He isn’t sure what to do so you squeeze his hand on top of your chest. He understands and starts to knead your tits while you touch him through his boxers. You start to breathe heavily with him, enjoying the stimulation. Xiao reaches his other hand up, massaging both your tits at the same time, his cock twitching in your hand as he does so. He loves how soft they are, he wonders what they look like uncovered. As if you were reading his mind, you take your dress off to give him more access. You unclip your bra and slowly slide off the straps from your shoulders, holding the cups to your chest still, slightly shy to show him. You’re still straddling him and so he brushes his hands on your thighs to comfort you, and sits up, leaning against the backboard of the bed. “You look so beautiful” he says while looking into your eyes. Xiao might not be experienced with intimacy but he is experienced with you and your emotions, he’s an expert at reading you and comforting you, you love that about him. He puts his hands over yours and rubs the back of your hands with his thumbs, pulling you close to kiss the top of your breasts. It makes you hold your breath. As you breathe out after a pause, you lower your hands and remove your bra. Xiao’s eyes dart back and forth between your face and your chest as he takes it all in. He slides his hands up the sides of your body to grab your tits again. His movements tell you he’s getting more confident.

He ghosts his thumbs over your nipples as you reach down to continue to pleasure him. His hips buck into your touch. As he receives more and more stimulation, his mind gets hazy with lust, his anxiety slowly melting away. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth and you moan. He sucks gently and runs his tongue around the already hardened bud. You take this as a sign to also move further, so you pull his cock out of its fabric restraints to pump it properly with your hand. He moans from the extra contact and his movements falter for a moment. He looks up at you with lidded eyes and you swear you see hearts in each other's eyes. The room feels like it’s burning up and you both love it.

Not soon after, all of your clothes have been tossed to the floor and you’re closing your mouth around Xiao’s leaky tip while he lays down. He’s already a mess because you’ve been licking stripes from the base to the tip for the past minute. You swirl your tongue around him as he can’t help but tug your hair with the hand that he tangled into it. You tease him a little longer before fully deepthroating him. He throws his head back with a moan and bucks into your mouth because he’s so sensitive and can barely control himself. His legs get shaky as you start to bob your head up and down. You move one hand to massage your slick covered clit, unable to ignore the aching need for stimulation any longer and sending vibrations through his body as you moan on his dick. Your other hand reaches to massage his balls and he literally feels like he’s going to die because of how good it all feels. You don’t want to push him too close to the edge yet so you soon pull back. Making sure to leave him well lubricated.

Xiao is already a bit fucked out and doesn’t know what’s happening but he snaps back as he feels your folds on him. You’re hovering above him, angling his dick to your entrance, sticky with arousal. “Mmph- wait, i-is this okay?” Xiao quickly asks as you rub him on your folds. “It’s more than okay, love… I- mmm… need you in me right now,” you slur to him as his tip rubs your clit. Xiao is beyond flustered at your boldness but he still manages to reply, “mmm- t-that sounds so good, darling.” You smile at him and lean down to kiss him before easing your hips down as he bottoms out in you. You both moan in unison as your pussy clenches and his dick twitches. It feels so good it makes your chest tighten. He stretches you out so good and you need a second to get used to his size. He fills you up to your cervix and his girth gives you just the right amount of delicious pressure and pain as you adjust. The ribbed texture of your insides making Xiao dizzy and the veins on his cock making you lightheaded. You lean on his chest to catch your breath and moan into his ear “y’fill me up so good darling.” “F-fuck, it feels s-so good… Your body… You feel so good,” he stutters out to you while digging his nails into your hips trying to control himself. You clench at his words and it drives him crazy. It’s taking so much to not start fucking into you right now. He knows he needs to wait for you to give him the go ahead, but as the night draws on, he’s been getting more needy, more desperate. Your velvety walls sucking him in so nicely, continuously pulling him in deeper. These new sensations are awakening his instincts and it’s so much at once. He loves you so much and knows you feel the same. He can barely get any words out as he’s getting so feral for you.

The moon illuminates your bodies ever so slightly as a warm breeze brushes over your scorching bodies. The only sound other than leaves rustling is your shared panting. The room feels like a sauna and it feels like an eternity before you next speak. Xiao hears nothing but your voice when you look at him with doe eyes and finally say “Xiao… please fuck me.” His pupils seemingly dilate as all rationality disappears. He pulls all the way out and slams back into you, already setting a fast pace. He hugs your waist tight, your chests flush against each other as you rest your arms around his head, pulling at his hair with one hand as he savors the delicious, dull pain. You’re both moaning messes, your hearts beating fast in unison. He continues to pound into you until his legs are burning. You notice his fatigue and decide to tell him to relax as you sit up. He moans at the sight of your naked chest and how your arousal is mixing with his, creating sticky strings on your thighs and where you’re connected. You start to grind on him, feeling him rub at the spongy part inside of you. You tell him to aim for this spot as you point above your core. He nods and breathes out a shaky sigh as he feels his pleasure building. You start to bounce on him with your hands on his chest as his hands find your hips. He loves how your tits bounce while you ride him like this. Your moans sound so heavenly to him and it makes his grip on your waist turn bruising. Your hands on his chest move up to cage his head as you get tired and he understands to start fucking up into you again. His hands find your ass and you moan out a “yes” as he experimentally squeezes it. He fucks you as his hands grip the upper plush of your ass. A few thrusts later and you sob out louder than before and he knows he’s found your spot. Your moans get louder and higher in pitch as he concentrates on fucking you so good you see stars. You’ve been making him feel so good and safe all night and now it’s his turn to lead. You reach a hand down to rub at your clit. “Xiao- mm, I’m g-getting close.” He’s breathing hard and isn’t extremely familiar with this feeling but replies in a breathy voice “m-me too.”

“Please keep going… Ahh- just like that mmmmphh,” you say as your eyes squeeze shut. “Cum with me~ please…” you moan. It feels overwhelming as your core tightens and your body gets even more sensitive to everything. The drag of him along your gummy walls, his hands on your body, the sound of your wet skin slapping together, the repeated stimulation of both your clit and your g-spot. Your orgasm hits hard and sudden as waves of pleasure quickly start to rack your body before you can even tell him you’re cumming. You let out a high pitched sob that quickly becomes uncontrollable moans due to how good it feels. Your walls clench unbelievably tightly around him as he feels your body shake. The squeeze, your moans, your body’s reactions to him, and the fact that he’s making you cum sent him tumbling over the edge with you. His thrusts become irregular as he releases in you, still pounding into you as he experiences waves of bliss. He’s never felt such intense pleasure before and his deep moans are accompanied by whimpers from how good it feels. He whispers praises as he starts to get overstimulated, “so pretty fr’me… love you s’much mmm.” You ride out your orgasms together and you eventually slump against his chest, breathing hard.

You’re both exhausted now and you stay like this for a minute or two to catch your breaths. “Are you okay?” Xiao asks quickly as he comes back to his senses. He’s worried he was too rough with you, especially towards the end. “I’m more than okay, love, don’t worry. That was amazing,” you reply with a sultry voice and a smile. Xiao looks down at you and sighs, he smiles back and agrees “that was pretty amazing… I love you.” “I love you too, darling. I’m glad you had a good time too,” you say, sitting up slightly. You lift you hips to pull him out of you as your mixed fluids flow out of you. Xiao thinks it’s insanely hot. He holds you up and lays you down beside him as he grabs a nearby towel to quickly wipe his abs before the liquids drip onto the sheets. He then gets up to get you a clean towel and wipes you down before helping you to the washroom. He offers you water and leaves another clean towel nearby the bed. You’re already curled up in bed and falling asleep by the time he finishes washing up and climbs into bed.

“Love you s’much” you slur out to him. His heart aches from how much he loves you and he kisses your forehead and tells you he loves you too. You fall asleep with your fists pressed between your chests while he cradles under your head with one arm and holds your waist with the other. Both of you smiling as you drift into sleep together under the moon, resting after the first of many nights like this to come.

Thanks for reading!

|| MASTERLIST <3 ||

#smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #reader x xiao #xiao smut #xiao #j's silly ramblings

[fairestwriting]

I saw and loved your piece about an S/O that's like a heater. What about the absolute opposite? I'm always kinda cold. Would love to be warmed up by Jack :) thank you ever so much!

Ace Trappola

Knowing how easily you get cold, Ace is ready to be a little bastard and put his cold hands on your neck first chance he gets. What he didn't know, though, was that even your neck already felt like an icicle in this weather, maybe even colder than his hands?

Despite his occasional little bastard-ing about it, he thinks it's sort of endearing. He tries to play it cool most of the time, to be the suave boyfriend who lends you his jacket when you're cold. This fails pretty miserably because he starts freezing his ass off, but you can tell he cares.

You can get your revenge for his little prank (which he will repeat, because even if it doesn't startle you a lot, it still startles you) by making he experience how chilly you feel whenever you cuddle up to him. He'll get startled and complain about it all dramatic, but you can sense that he feels sort of proud that he's warming you up now.

Deuce Spade

Takes every opportunity to fuss over you, gets all worried if he doesn't see you wearing a jacket. Like Ace, he'll lend you his without hesitation, except he manages to be "cooler" about it since he doesn't get cold as easily. He's still all worried about you, though.

He's easily flustered by touch no matter the circumstance, but he's also dead set on keeping you warm. Initiates hugs a lot more, the possible excuse of "not wanting you to catch a cold" makes him a little bolder. It's hard for anyone to pry you off each other.

He probably has things like scarves and sweaters his mother knitted for him that don't fit anymore, and if they fit you, he's downright overjoyed to hand them over. Some of them look a little silly in the way that homemade knit clothing usually does, but it's kind of impossible to refuse him. He loves them, and he loves seeing you on them.

Jack Howl

Yeah, he is the ideal boyfriend for this scenario. Having lived in a cold place for most of his life, he does know a lot about how to stay warm!

...Which means, he knows when he doesn't have to be cuddling you for you not to freeze, but one time or another, he'll use it as an excuse to stay glued to you for a bit, saying it's the best you can do now to stave off the cold. He blushes while he mumbles out his very clear lie.

Even harder to pry him off you than it is with Deuce. Whether it's summer or winter. You know, he is way warmer than a human, so when it's hot, it's his turn to cool down on you. It's the perfect excuse to get all that PDA he's usually too shy to go for.

Epel Felmier

Out of the three who would try to play the "cool boyfriend giving you his jacket when you're cold" trope, Epel is the one who actually pulls it off perfectly. He does get worried, of course, but he's not nearly as fussy as Deuce, and he's pretty tolerant to cold. Maybe a little too much. You two will be an interesting sight during winter, when he's walking around wearing a scarf and gloves at most, and you're all bundled up.

If you like hot apple cider, or apple pie, or anything warm that involves apples, you're getting an endless supply of it. Some from leftovers he gets after visiting his family on werkends, and some made by his own hand.

(He's a little embarrassed to admit he made them, though, because while they're good, aesthetics really aren't his forte. But he's trying his best.)

Sebek Zigvolt

Still runs considerably colder than you, but it still spooks him. You're not fae cold, sure, but still? Is that really normal for a human? He expects answers.

Winter is... not very kind to either of you, needless to say. It's not that he gets cold in the traditional way, but it does a number on his energy. Even then, he'll still spare some to scold you if he thinks you're underdressed.

...Sometimes Sebek exaggerates a little. It's honestly just because he doesn't know a lot about how warmth works for the human body. But giving you a second pair of earmuffs when you already have one on is still one of his ways of showing that he cares about you.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #sebek zigvolt #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #lis writing

[sophswritingthings]

explosive - hazel callahan 

pairing: hazel callahan x forfem!cheerleader!reader

warning(s): no warnings, actually! it’s just really fluffy <3 swearing, tho!

tropes: fluff, friends to lovers, sort of canon compliant, first kiss

summary: hazel’s had a crush on you forever. and it really comes to a boiling point when you and the girls go to tp and egg jeff's house. and when she, y'know, set offs a bomb.

a/n: was hazel knowing how to make a bomb hot…….. or was that just me?

word count: 1,144 words / 6,176 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hazel was watching you from afar; her eyes trailing up and down your figure. your cute, graphic tee to your lazy comfy sweatpants; which, she only knew your wore when you wanted to get messy. since, you only ever wore them during your art class. 

“hazel, your fucking staring her down,” pj glared at the girl beside her. “you're such a stalker.”

“I— i am not!” hazel hissed back, “I’m… gonna go work on that bomb now.”

meanwhile, you were sort of watching her too. the way her eyes creased together into somewhat of an angry look; but you didn’t think you'd ever seen hazel callahan truly angry. 

that was besides the point.

you thought she was adorable, to which, she was. 

and those thoughts were now dragging you toward jeff's car, where hazel was slipped under. her marked up convers were hanging out from the top of the car.

“hey, hazel.”

the car almost jerked up, and you heard a “fuck” from under the car. you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, though you did wonder if she was okay. 

“you okay, hazel? I didn’t mean to spook you. probably should have thought about that before I came up on someone under a car, huh?” you chuckle in response.

“I-it’s fine,” she says from under the car, her voice choked up. she was nervous, and her face was best red—glad that it was hidden under the body of the car. 

“you sure?” you cock your head, bending down to be sat on your knees. “that sounded kinda painful.”

hazel hums a little, “mm-hm!” in a response. she slides out from under the car for a moment. she wanted to see your beautiful face, even if hers was currently covered in soot and ash.

and even if it was beat red.

than a loud, shrill beep sounded from under the car.

“um, hazel, is that something we should be concerned about——“

out of instinct, she grasps your hand tight. she pulls herself to her feet, as well as you, and begins to charge for their “getaway” car. she slides into the backseat, pulling you in beside her.

after a few seconds, you feel her hand still clasped around yours. It made your heart beat a million miles a minute, her rough, coarse hands rubbing against yours. In comparison, yours were small and soft. holding a hand like hazel's felt…

… nice.

a few moments later, you feel those same hands covering your ears, pulling your head close to the crook of her neck. instead of covering her own ears, she covered yours, as if you didn’t have the hands to do so.

she was so cute. so thoughtful…

you two were, as of now, in the car alone. despite the damn bomb going off; the girls still hadn’t hopped back in the car, hadn’t driven away.

that left you alone with a hot girl you had a crush on. 

and you were pretty sure she liked you, too.

“so,” you gently nudge your knee against hazel’s. “how the hell do you know how to make a bomb?” you scoff, glancing at her with a playful expression.

“Its… not that hard,” she laughs, looking bashful as ever. “not like I’m some child genius.”

“still impressive,” you nudge your knee against her's again, causing her to look up at you, “learn that in robotics, or somethin’?”

she shrugs, “um, the mechanics of the it, sure,” hazel clears her throat. “rest online…”

“it’s.. it’s. yeah, it’s cool.” you smile softly. you gaze at her, maybe for a moment too long, your eyes locked together. “hazel… I… um—“

your words are cut off. 

the rest of the girls slide into the car. 

two more slide into the back, isabel and brittany. they pressed the two girls closer together, your thigh pressed gently against hazel’s. it made you blush, sure, but—it felt good. It felt… right.

you and hazel glance at each other, laughing softly. it’s a knowing laugh. you know what you were going to say; and you hoped you'd get the chance to finish it later. It was hazel's car that they were driving in, after all. they'd have to drop isabel and brittany off, drop pj off, let josie drive herself home than—

—it would be just you two.

twenty minutes of driving later and it’s just the two of you. you’ve moved into the drivers and passengers seat, the only sound between you two for a moment is the sound of the heater in hazel’s car rumbling to keep you warm in the cold weather.

“.. I have a feeling you knew what I was gonna say.. don’t you?” you chuckle, your cheeks bright red as you gaze out the windshield in front of you.

“.. I-I could guess,” hazel murmurs, her fingers tapping against the leather steering wheel. “because I kind wanted to say it, too.”

you pause. you had a feeling that it was reciprocated, but god to hear it out loud…

“well, than..” you whisper, “good to know.”

hazel chuckles, “yeah.. that’s pretty good to know.”

you laugh right back, realizing how stupid your words actually sounded.

you grab your purse as the car comes to a stop outside your large house. you open the passengers door, stepping outside the car.

and, unsurprisingly, hazel has followed you.

“so,” your eyes trail up her body, landing on her beautiful blue eyes. “could I say it’s pretty evident that i’d really like to kiss you right now?”

“you.. could say that.” hazel murmured, resting a hand on your cheek. she began to lean down, considering your height difference. her lips where inches from yours. “can I—“

before she gets to finish her question, you gently press your lips against hers. they’re warm; and taste almost like a hint of vanilla lipgloss. 

It was good. It was all so good. It felt like your insides were exploding, from the idea. your stomach squirming, your hands twitching on the back of hazel’s neck—which, you were sure she could feel.

when you pulled back, you took in a little gasp of air.

“a date, than?” you prompt, smiling. “how does tomorrow sound?”

“tomorrow?” her eyes light up at the thought. she didn’t think you’d wanna go on a date with her that soon. “sounds perfect. I—I’ll come and pick you up?”

“amazing,” you nod your head, giving her a smile and a wave over your shoulder as you walk toward your house. 

she watched as you slipped inside, leaning against her car with her arms folded. the idea that such an amazing girl would like… her? the loser masc lesbian is who nobody talked to?

the idea was foreign to her.

yet here you were, kissing her and asking her on a date. 

it was all so… amazing, to her.

she couldn’t wait. not one second.

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #lesbian #sapphic #wlw #fanfic #oneshot #x reader

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future in You | 2.6 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, will be smut so 18+, enemies to lovers kinda thing, babies and fluff and more babies, bradley being a nervous first time daddy, wc: 3.8k

…

“This… doesn’t look right.” Bradley pulls back and rests his hands against his hips, staring at the car seat with an unimpressed gaze frown.

“Sure it does.” You answer, peering around him to examine the situation in front of you. The straps are secure at the top of his chest, his plush cheek resting against the padded restraints.

“I don’t think so. He doesn’t look comfortable.” Bradley answers you with a shake of his head. This is his second practice of the day. He doesn’t want Tom to be in the car seat too long, but he knows that his most significant job in all of this is getting the two of you home safe.

He leans forwards and begins to fiddle with the straps again. Your newborn doesn’t seem fussed by his neurotic, worried dad anyways. Bradley hums. “Don’t worry, buddy, we’ll figure it out.”

“The Bradshaws! — How are we this morning?”

This, Thomas is fussed by. Over the last six days, the first six of his life, you’ve figured that your son has some pretty sharp reflexes. Even just blowing on his cheek makes him flinch. He jumps, arms and legs tensing at once, his still unfocused eyes blowing wide open as the doctor strolls into the room.

His lip begins to wobble and his nose scrunches up tight, his hands trembling under the confines of his mittens. You nudge Bradley out of the way and unclasp the straps right as Thomas begins to cry.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to spook this little sweetheart.” The doctor is smiling and reaching out to tickle the infant’s back and on your end, everything is forgiven. Bradley, however, glares at her as he reaches his son.

You hadn’t been expecting the same guy who once jumped off of the roof of a neighbouring frat house and into their pool to be such a nervous nelly when it came to parenthood. Especially not the same guy who told you he wanted no part in any of this.

You roll your eyes, rocking softly, shushing the baby. These past six days have taught you a lot of things. That the birthmark on the bottom of Thomas’ back is kind of the shape of Italy. That even though he can’t see much yet, he likes to look around while he’s being fed. That Bradley is not fast enough at changing diapers yet to avoid getting peed on.

That somehow, you and Bradley might have just created the most perfect little boy in the entire world. With his thatches of brown hair and his tiny fingers and toes, his sloped nose and poured lips. Those funny, jumpy reflexes.

“I’m just here to do some tests, see if we can get you guys home today.” She tells you with a bright smile. From the way that your face changes, she can tell that this is the news that you’ve been waiting for. Six days of barely walking, hearing other people’s babies screaming — you’ve been ready to go home for a while.

“Today? — Nobody said today. They said tomorrow.” Bradley interjects loudly. You scowl across at him and he shuts up, but the nervous way he fidgets on his feet tells you everything you need to know.

“I know, I know. But he’s doing just fine so far, and I’m sure you two are eager to sleep in your own beds again.” The doctor coos softly, learning from her initial mistake as she takes the baby from your arms. She follows your pattern of soothing and rocking and Thomas seems to consider quietening down.

Bradley pushes his hands into the pockets of his sweat shorts and just leans back against the end of the hospital bed. He’s so focused on watching this stranger with your baby that he doesn’t even hear you move until you’re pressing in against his side.

“You’re doing fine.” You promise him, stretching your open palm against the fabric of his black t-shirt, stretching your neck to look at him. “Stop stressing.”

He doesn’t say anything, and that worried frown on his face doesn’t soften either. Bradley swallows, brushes a hand over his upper lip and reaches out for you. You close

Your eyes as he secures an arm around your waist and tugs you closer, leaning down and resting his mouth against the top of your head.

He inhales deeply, breathing in the scent of unfamiliar shampoo and hospital borrowed soap.

“She called you a Bradshaw, you know.” He whispers finally, just before he straightens back up. You scoff, jabbing the tip of your index finger into his side.

“Don’t get any ideas, Pops. It’s bad enough you talked me into letting Tommy take your name.” You’re joking, of course. The amusement in your voice makes his chest feel that little bit less tight. You’ll say yes, one day. He’ll make sure it’s special and you’re not giving birth next time, and you’ll say yes.

He pinches your side playfully and tugs you closer again. “Pops? — I thought we agreed on you calling me—“

He grunts as you jerk your elbow back into his stomach, just enough to make him jolt but not enough to actually hurt the idiot you’ve come to be so fond of. There it is, he grins behind you, his chest rumbling with a soft chuckle.

Minutes later, the doctor turns around to you and gives you the go-ahead. Suddenly, the little boy in the roomy onesie is all yours, and yours alone. Well, not that suddenly, there’s paperwork first. But sudden feels the only appropriate word when you’re walking out of the hospital, with no one to guide you.

Bradley’s knuckles are white around the handle of the car seat in his right hand, a slightly softer approach to the way that he’s holding your hand in his left.

“You’re sure you can walk? — They said you could have a chair, if you want a chair.” He checks, for the second time since you stepped out of the elevator.

“I’m fine.” You give his hand a soft squeeze and groan softly as you step out into the mid-summer suffocation of the Florida heat. “Now walk with purpose. It’s too hot for this.”

Settled into the backseat beside Thomas, sleeping in his car seat, you catch Bradley frowning worriedly back at the both of you before he turns the key in the ignition.

The drive home is slow, and uneventful. The baby is asleep. Bradley’s eyes are trained seriously on the road, his hands holding a steady ten and two position on the wheel. You don’t dare suggest that he turns on the radio.

There were plenty of things that you had prepared yourself for when you had decided to have your baby. Your body changing, fine. Your career plans changing, okay. The hormones and the responsibilities and the tiny human who would depend on you for probably the rest of your life, sure.

Some things about such a drastic lifestyle change simply cannot be planned for.

Nine hours ago, you brought your son home from the hospital. This is something that you would never admit out loud, but in those last few days of your pregnancy, the concern had flooded your mind that maybe your feelings for Bradley were purely hormonal. You were carrying his child, it makes sense that your body would want him around. It was the after that had concerned you.

But, you had watched today as Bradley had carried the car seat in one hand and secured you by his side with the other. He had buckled your son into the car, and he had driven home under the speed limit the entire way.

You exhale softly as you step out of the shower. That’s growing easier now, six days later, but your body is far from healed. Your legs still tremble when you try to stand too long, and your back aches in a way you’re starting to worry might be permanent.

It’s quiet in your apartment now. You listen out as you towel dry your body, trying to find the pitch of a sports narrator or some soft music — anything. It’s almost dead silent.

You wriggle into your pyjamas and wrap your wet hair, walking slow out of the bathroom and down the hall. You’re barely dry, your warm feet padding along the carpet, wrinkled fingers pushing open the door to the bedroom.

One of the things that none of the articles you had read seemed to mention, is what to do the first time that you see the father of your child at home with your baby.

Bradley’s sitting up against the pillows with Thomas nestled against his chest. His hand eclipses the infant’s torso as he pats his back softly. Thomas’ cheek is resting against Bradley’s pectoral, you can’t see from where you are but instinct and your son’s uncharacteristic stillness tells you that he’s sleeping.

Bradley’s singing. He’s patting the baby’s back gently and he’s singing softly, trying hard to push the usually deep rumble of his voice into lullaby territory.

Your mouth falls slack, cold feet becoming still against the soft floor. This tiny first apartment and its discernible wooden doors that creak at every opportunity give you away and he stops just as quickly as he is perceived.

His gaze flickers up and his lips twist softly into a small smile. You watch him take account of your matching maternity pyjamas which threaten to be too big without the stretch of your bump. Amusement floods the hint of the smile on his lips — he loves to laugh at these pyjamas.

His hand stills against Thomas’ back, those glittery brown eyes flicker up to study the look on your face.

“Hey, babe,” He hums, keeping his voice low so that he doesn’t startle the baby. “How was your shower?”

“I didn’t think I would miss our shitty water pressure, but I’m just so glad we’re not at the hospital anymore.” You pad across the carpet towards him and crawl into bed, pulling back the sheets and draping yourself across Bradley’s brawny thighs.

He looks down at you and secures the infant close to his chest, freeing one hand to brush tenderly across your cheek.

“What was that song were you singing him?” You ask. The ceiling fan whirs above you like a thrumming, excessively loud lullaby. The warmth of his thigh props up your cheek.

There’s something about it all that feels too much like a dream. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep. The NICU isn’t exactly a luxury retreat, despite its price point. Tonight is your first night home from the hospital. Your son is six days old and yesterday, he officially crossed the threshold into five pound territory. Tonight, he’s huddled against Bradley’s bare chest, wearing a diaper that had seemed too tiny for an actual human to wear and zipped into a onesie printed with little ducks on it. Geese, maybe, actually.

You lift your hand and reach out, watching your fingertip follow the soft cotton covering those wrinkled lines on the sole of Thomas’ foot that you’ve come to be so familiar with already.

The infant curls his toes and unclenches them again, scrunching his knees. Bradley watches, lips twisted into a smile that he couldn’t fight back if he tried.

There’s something about the steady, heavy thrum of Bradley’s heartbeat that puts the kid right to sleep. The warm bath and the ounce of milk that came before he was set on his dad’s stomach may have helped too. Bradley’s hand cups the back of Thomas’ neck, keeping the sleeping baby steady.

“Wildflowers by, uh— Tom Petty, I think?” Bradley shrugs. In truth, he knows the song inside and out — it was the first song he learned to play on piano. He’s used to playing that down. Girls find guitars hot, not his years of classical piano lessons.

You smile, lifting your head and pressing a gentle kiss to the sole of the baby’s foot, soft blue cottons

against your lips. Then, you lower your mouth and press it softly to Bradley’s stomach. Just once, before you drop your head back down and set it against his thigh.

“He’s so good, and I’m still exhausted.” You murmur, exhaling deeply. Behind heavy lids, you make a mental note to look into which ingredient in the smell of baby soap acts as such a good sleeping agent.

“You should sleep. He’ll be up again in a couple of hours.” Bradley reminds you, stroking damp hair back off of your forehead. Closing your eyes, you nod with him, but make no effort to move. He smiles. “Come on, I don’t need to sing the both of you to sleep, do I?”

You huff a soft sound of amusement, giving a small shake of your head. “Not tonight, Pops. Put him to bed, let’s get some sleep.”

Bradley chuckles, carefully shifting your son off of his stomach and instead laying him across his thighs as you sit up.

“Mom and Dad… isn’t that crazy?” He muses, stroking his thumb across the soft hair on the infant’s head. Thomas is still so small that Bradley’s palm makes him look even tinier. You lean into your boyfriend’s shoulder and stroke the baby’s cheek.

“I know.” You agree quietly.

Big, round cheeks and pursed lips, dark eyelashes and a soft little nose. His tiny hands balled into fists, his knees curled up to his middle. Blue clouds adorning his onesie. Half you, and half Bradley.

“Alright, we’ll see you in a couple hours, little man. Yell if you need something.” Bradley half jokes as he pushes himself up from the bed and turns to set the baby into the bassinet. With the lung capacity he has already impressed you with, you know that he’ll have no issues letting you know if he wants something.

He crawls back into bed beside you and flicks the beside lamp off, pulling the covers up around the two of you. Readily, you press yourself close to him and close your eyes. He smells like baby soap.

“Are you still hurting anywhere?” Bradley’s voice lowers to a whisper now, his breath fanning across the nape of your neck as he leans his head into the crook of your shoulder and cautiously rests a hand against your hip. Into the dark, your mouth twitches at a smile.

Your hips feel both squished and torn apart at the same time. Your back feels like it might never feel quite right ever again. But even with him a cautious distance from you, you can feel the perpetual warmth from his body.

“Everywhere. But I still want you to hold me.”

Slowly, he slides an arm under you and another over you. Draping his body around yours, he pulls you close and suddenly you get whatever it is that sends Thomas off to sleep so easily. The faint musky smell of his fading cologne. The steady, heavy thrum of his heartbeat. The long, deep pattern of his breathing.

Just when you think he has beat you to it, he reminds you that he’s still awake. A soft, chaste kiss presses to your throat, his voice low as he mumbles, “I love you.”

As much as Thomas is a good baby; he’s still a baby. A small one at that, with plenty of growing to do. Even now, he just about finishes an ounce of milk at a time — half of the time. That means a lot of wake ups. A lot of diaper changes with your eyes half open.

The first four days of parenthood pass you by before you’ve really come to terms with the reality of it all. Constant feeds through the night, surviving off of instant noodles and pizza — all of this doesn’t feel too far of a stretch from your recent college days.

But it’s harder now. The responsibilities are never ending. It’s hard to remain rational about any of it.

“If you could breastfeed, would you do it?”

From the other end of the couch, Bradley seems to startle awake. Brows drawing together in confusion, he stares across your dimly lit living room at you, then takes a second to look around him.

You’re at the end of the movie now, so he doesn’t have a clue how long he has been sleeping. Stretching his legs out, he sighs softly, “Yeah. I guess so.”

Your mouth twitches at the fact that he doesn’t even ask you why. He blinks softly and brings both hands up to rub at his eyes tiredly.

“What time is it?”

“Two, maybe.” You shrug, watching Thomas’ eyelids grow heavy. His hands remain balled and tucked in against his chest. He has spent these past four days stretching out occasionally, scrunching himself back into a tight ball frequently.

“No fucking way did I just sleep for four hours. The movie’s still playing.” Bradley protests, awkwardly fumbling to push himself upright and puckering his mouth into a deep frown. You just shrug across at him once more.

“I put the sequel on after you fell asleep.”

He hadn’t ever thought he would be able to have a regular conversation with a woman who had her breast out in front of him, but here he is. It doesn’t even cross his mind to check you out. The only thing he’s thinking about is the fact you’re running on maybe an hour of uninterrupted sleep and all you had wanted was to watch your movie with him. And he had fallen asleep.

He fumbles around, checking his pockets for his phone, finding it instead resting between his jaw and shoulder. You close your eyes for a moment as he checks the time. In the split second that your eyes are shut, Thomas makes a spluttering sound.

As quickly as you can lift and turn him, the has already spit the last mouthful of milk back against your skin and all down his chin.

“Oh, Tommy…” You groan, adjusting the strap of your nursing bra with one hand as you support him with the other.

“Here, I’ll take him.” Bradley offers, pushing himself up and starting to scoot towards you.

“We’re fine.” Maybe it comes out a little bit harsh, maybe your tone is a little colder than normal. Bradley frowns at you, sitting still at the opposite end of the sectional. “Just go back to sleep.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to—“

“I know you didn’t.” You’re just doubling down at this point as you wipe at Thomas’ mouth with a muslin cloth. Bradley’s brows draw together a bit.

“So why are you mad at me? — Just let me help you.” He pushes forwards again and reaches for your son.

“I said we’re fine!” You bite back. The baby flinches and quickly starts to scream. You slam your eyes shut, darkness behind your lids and a dull ache drilling from your temples to the core of your brain.

Opposite you, Bradley sighs, dropping his head forward into his hands. You’re both silent. The sequel plays on. The baby keeps on screaming. Neither one of you look at each other.

This is what all new parents go through, you know that. It doesn’t make it any less sore in the moment.

“What should I do?” Bradley asks finally, pushing up from the sofa and squeezing against your side, wrapping an arm around your aching shoulders. It’s not worth dragging your eyes open for.

“Never get me pregnant again, for starters.” You mutter half-jokingly. Bradley chuckles at your side and turns his head to kiss at those sore temples, like he can feel where it hurts. Maybe those dad-senses are sharper than you give him credit for.

“Not even once more? — But look how cute the first one wa—“ He’s only joking of course, but he still has the good sense to shut up when you turn your head and glare at him. He grins, and he looks just like he did the first time you were stupid enough to melt for that pretty look.

“You hungry?” Bradley asks. He read somewhere that breastfeeding can cause stronger appetites.

“Yeah.”

“Dad’s got it. We’ll be right back.” Bradley promises you, dipping forwards and kissing your temple once more, stealing the baby in one fell swoop. “Come on, buddy.”

Bradley pads into the kitchen barefoot, bouncing the baby in his arms and you let your eyes fall shut once more. You’re only two weeks in. They don’t start sleeping through the night for another couple months at least — sometimes years. You don’t know how you could do another couple years of being this delirious.

Closing your eyes, it’s easy enough to imagine that you’re not here. That you’re still in school, or still in your parents’ house. Somewhere safer, where you could hide from the limited responsibilities that you had back then. It would be so easy to drift off into a dream about life being that easy again.

Instead, the sofa dips at your side and your boys are back. Bradley announces himself by kissing your cheek softly and pressing a spoon into your hand.

“All we have is Ice-Cream.” He tells you, settling Thomas into the crook of his elbow and passing the tub of ice cream off to you. You blink at the vanilla flavoured frozen treat in front of you, then look up to stare at him. “I’ll go to the store tomorrow. We’ll both go. You can stay here and sleep in.”

You look away for just a second, digging the tip of your spoon into the ice cream, and hear him continue.

“We can get whatever we want, Mommy won’t be there to tell us no.”

Despite your best efforts, a smile itches its way across your face. You turn your head and attempt to force at a scowl. All five of Thomas’ right-hand fingers are wrapped around Bradley’s little finger, they both seem to be looking at you.

“I don’t care what you come home with as long as there’s more of this stuff in there somewhere.” You decide, slipping a spoonful into your mouth and savouring the flavour on your tongue. Bradley shifts, leaning his head against yours.

“Share.” He demands, leaving his mouth open. You snuff your nose at him as you dig another spoonful from the tub and shovel it into his mouth. “That’s so good.”

“Probably not what we should be eating. We aren’t setting a very good example.” You hum, ignoring your own advice and gulping down another spoonful, kicking your feet up onto the coffee table.

If only your mother could see you now. She would lose her marbles if she saw your approach to motherhood.

“Eh, this kid pees himself all day long. We’ll start being good examples for him later on.” Bradley shrugs, leaning his weight into you, turning his attention back to the tv. “So can you explain to me what I missed?”

…

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#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #jake seresin #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #Bradley bradshaw x you #my future in you #mfiy

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Of course I've heard the new Hozier EP...

|| Too Sweet ||

Frank Castle x reader

It's the blood wet on your skin that does it. His blood. It smears and taints you as you pull the knot tight and cut the final stitch free by the soft light of your bedside lamp.

He screws his eyes closed for a few seconds but when he opens them again you're still there, carefully cleaning the wound, wiping the blood away trying not to make it sting as if that kind of soft pain is remotely worse than what he's already endured on his grisley crusade. It's almost ridiculous, how gentle you are despite everything. How even in the early hours, you welcome him without question in to your home, your bed, your arms.

Somehow, you're able to lift the heavy weight of all his past and future and hold him in the clear simplicity of now.

You're putting away the bandages and needles, and now, as you apply the soothing salve of your kisses on his dirty, battle-worn skin, Frank can't cope. He doesn't deserve the honesty in your love. You give and he takes and yeah, he tries his damndest to give it back, but what he's got is charred, broken, and corrupted. It doesn't match. Its been so long since he's had something close to that, and he's only seeing this for the first time like some kind of fucked up epiphany.

He pinches the thick bridge of his nose as if waking from a nightmare, but it's the opposite.

Your eyes search for the problem, another thing for you to fix with your gentle touch and he can't stand it.

"Don't need to do this." He says, head shaking slowly from side to side as you meet him with a puzzled look.

"Frank, I'm not letting you run around bleeding out-"

"No, that's just it. You don't need this kinda shit from me. You've got your own life and things to care of. You don’t need this, dont need me."

He's acting like a spooked dog. You don't know where all this fear has come from so suddenly. You place your hand on his face, cupping his jaw and making him see that you mean what you say, not for one second letting him cower away and hide.

"What if I do need you, huh? You ever think about that? What I want?" You ask him.

Frank still struggles to meet your eyes. "I-I ain't no good, sweetheart... I've done things I ain't proud of, things you shouldn't even know about.'

"But I do know about them, and look, Frank, look! I'm still here with you."

"It ain't right though, layin' that kind of shit at your door."

To hell with that, you think.

"I know it ain't a competition, but I can be just as nasty. I can roll around in the dirt and get my hands dirty if I need to, you know that. C'mon Frank, I'm no princess."

"It ain't all that-"

"Then what? Do you want out?"

If he did, you definitely hadn't see this coming.

"No, 'course not."

"Then tell me."

He hesitates.

"You're too sweet f'me." He finally says quietly.

You can't help but laugh.

"Frank Castle, the day I'm too sweet for you will be the day I stop drinking coffee. And that's never just in case it isn't clear."

You catch the slight ghost of a smile picking up the edge of his mouth.

"I'm serious." You say.

You swing your leg over his, settling in his lap and hooking your arms around his neck. You'll make sure he gets the message alright.

"Let me show just how sweet I am..."

~ Please reblog if you liked my writing! Thank you 💕

#frank castle x reader #frank castle angst #frank castle fluff #ficlet

[shankschewtoy]

Hayo, I noticed ur blog and fell in love. I was wondering if I could request Smoker, Crocodile, Zoro, and Hihawk with an S/O who is reckless. I'm talking like Luffy kinda reckless. Oh, this berry might be super poisonous? Only one way to find out-

a/n - awww you’re so sweet I’m glad you like my blog 💜💜 oml I’m giggling tysm nero for the request !

Warnings ⚠️ - crack kinda, g/n reader

Opposites attract

- poor man is so tired

- “CROCO- I FOUND A MUSHROOM LOOK LOOK! It matches your hair!! tastes a bit funny though.” You said excitedly, showing your lover the black mushroom

- the color should’ve been the first hint that maybe you shouldn’t eat that.

- but you ate it anyways

- “cool. Cool.”

- “… wait what.”

- he needed a minute

- then it clicked, you collapsed to the ground, coughing and clutching your stomach from the pain

- “Y/n- you ate a random mushroom?!”

- frantically trying to not freak out

- he’s trying to remain calm. but it’s not working

- god the pain was unbearable, your stomach churning but also cramping at the same time

- And to make it better? You might’ve eaten the entire mushroom 🙃

- he’s not a doctor wtf is he supposed to do-???

- literally slapping your back to try and get you to spit it out

- “I ALREADY SWALLOWED IT- STOP OW!”

- you survived, but crocodile’s sanity didn’t lol

- in battles, you were always the first one to spring into action, much to your lover’s dismay

- “Let’s go!!!” You shouted, jumping off the ship, running straight towards the marine encampment

- “Y/N GET BACK HERE-!”

- he didn’t even get to explain the plan yet

- man loves you a lot, so he sticks with you even though you drive him insane

- “y/n don’t you even think about eating that. it was on the ground.”

- “but- 5 second rule-“

- “NO-“

- ….

- *eats it anyways*

- he’s like a wall

- does he ever express emotion to your shenanigans???

- definition of 🗿

- you end up getting into more dumb shit just to see if he’d react

- you could be choking on a poisonous berry, and all he does is fucking slap your back, and you spit it out no problem

- he’s like those magic moms

- he wouldn’t appreciate being called that

- right before you rush to jump off the cliff, he literally just grabs you by the back of your shirt like you’re a tiny cat

- he does it with one hand while he’s reading the newspaper with the other

- not even looking

- you’re honestly tired of trying to get him to react, so you end up falling asleep on him sometimes, exhausted from all your reckless activities

- oh if only you were awake to see how he reacted to this

- he had a soft smile on his face, and he ran his fingers through your hair, softly patting your back and hugging you close to him

- this was the time that he reacted, and you were unfortunately asleep 🙃

- you’re bad for his health

- you give him heart attacks every single day

- Tashigi has started to give him free therapy sometimes

- when you literally jump off the ship before he can explain the plan to you, he has to quickly grab you with his smokey hands

- he has an amazing reaction time thanks to you :)

- “Smokey! I was just gonna take care of ‘em for you!” You said with a smile, hanging in front of your lover

- how could he not forgive you???? He loved you too much to stay mad

- he has to keep you close by, but when you suddenly disappear, and he sees you beating up a bunch of pirates in the distance

- my god you’re going to be the death of him

- all he wants is for you to be safe, and you’re charging straight towards the danger with a huge smile on your face-

- “Smokey!!!! I beat them up for you!” You said, waving at him

- you were sitting on top the pile of beaten up pirates with your big smile that smoker loved so much

- he couldn’t help but smile back with a tired sigh

- he one time almost couldn’t breathe because he couldn’t find you for a good five minutes before you jumped out of a barrel to spook him

- man was so scared he couldn’t move

- “um. smokey are you ok?…”

- it took a good five minutes for his mind to process what just happened, and then he scolded you for another ten :)

- obviously you didn’t listen to even half of what he said tho 👍

- I mean he has Luffy as a captain, so he’s pretty used to it

- or so he thought.

- you were eating a mushroom right in front of him, and he looked confused as to what exactly you were eating

- “Did the pervert cook give you a mushroom??”

- “No- mffm. I found it.”

- your mouth was full, and then you swallowed it right when he realized

- "YOU IDIOT-! YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT!"

- frantically slapping you

- it left bruises

- "cant you just shit it out?!"

- "I CANT SHIT ON COMMAND MOSSHEAD!"

- chopper saved you, but now Zoro has to accompany you everytime you explore the islands

- you picked up some berries from a nearby bush, and you were about to put them in your mouth

- he bonked your head with his fist, "don't even think about it y/n."

- "OW THAT HURT IDIOT!"

- you hit him back and it started a whole fight

- you won >:)

a/n - hehe these are fun

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece hcs #anime hcs #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x y/n #zoro headcanons #zoro x reader #mihawk x y/n #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #smoker x reader #smoker one piece #white chase smoker #smoker x y/n #crocodile #crocodile x y/n #crocodile x reader #crocodile one piece

[avatar-anna]

so just an idea. what if few years down the line when prof and h get married and he drops her to uni first time after they are married and people address her "professor styles" or "doctor styles" and she cant stop blushing and harry is just smirkingg. you can totally ignore this if this isn't something you like!

Heyyy queeeeeen, first of all HAPPY NEW YEAR! Second off all this is kinda a request/idea : how about y/n is mad at bf!Harry so she gives him the silent treatment and then out off nowhere he calls her y/n Styles and it gets her attention and then they have a talk about marriage and the end up making love?

I've given this a lot of thought, because on the one hand, I feel like Professor would be the type to keep her last name. BUT I also think she would appreciate the idea of shedding her past for good by taking a new name, Harry's name. She talks about it at length with Harry, and he holds his tongue, wanting her to come to her own decision and supporting whatever she wants to do (but he totally has an opinion and it's for her to be Mrs. Dr. Styles). And because you so graciously requested this, we're going with Mrs. Dr. Styles, so here is three times Professor was referred to as Dr. Styles!

The Professor Series

Harry often thought the way Y/n went on tangents was cute, adorable even, but right now she was being a little...unreasonable.

"Y/n, we talked about this. It happened for a moment, and security took care of it. I'm fine."

"This is not okay! Do you know how many creeps there are out there? So many. I don't need statistics because I encounter them all the time, Harry. This is serious. You could've been hurt, the band could've been hurt, anyone could've—"

"Darling, nothing happened. Come back down to earth for me. Please?" he said, standing up from the hotel bed to come near her.

"I am on earth! Where some...some freak decided it was okay to run onstage and charge you! Why aren't you taking this seriously, Harry? Anything could've happened? So many celebrities are attacked by fans who think they're in a relationship or have a right to..."

And on and on she went.

Harry knew it was scary for her. Y/n got easily spooked by this kind of thing. And he was fine with that, but honestly, hearing about all of this was freaking him out. He'd been fine after the show, but now she was making him uncomfortable.

"Y/n, love, come on. Stop," he said gently, reaching for her hand. But she wouldn't stop, she just kept going.

Harry loved her, he would never want to change a single thing about her. He loved her little quirks and all the things that made up who she was. She wouldn't be his love without them. But sometimes she didn't listen to him, and sometimes she worked herself into a frenzy when she didn't need to.

"Y/n Styles! Stop. I love you, but you need to stop," he said, voice soft but stern.

He didn't even realize what he said until she asked, "What did you just call me?"

"What?"

"Y—You called me Y/n...Styles," she said, and Harry thought she'd probably never looked so confused in her life. "Why would you do that?"

"I...I don't know," he said truthfully. "It just came out. Sorry."

He wasn't sorry, though. Not really. Harry might not have meant to, but he certainly liked the sound of it. They hadn't been together very long, but he knew what he wanted, he knew what his future was going to look like. Harry didn't care how long it took or when that future started, but he could wait.

What he didn't want was to freak his girlfriend out. Harry knew Y/n loved him, but she sometimes got squirrely about the abstract, the unknown.

"No, it's—it's okay, I—I kind of liked it," she said.

Of all the things to happen tonight, that was the most surprising.

Grinning, Harry said, "You did, did you?"

"I know that look. Don't give me that look or I'll take it back," she said, stepping away from him as he got closer.

"What look?"

"That look! Put those bedroom eyes away!"

"Bedroom eyes?" Harry asked, laughing as he cornered Y/n against a wall. In a sing-song voice, he said, "You want to be my wiiife."

"N—No, that's not what I said, I just—Hey!"

"No more talking," he said, carrying her over his shoulder. "We, Y/n Styles, are going to bed."

Y/n tried to say something, but Harry's mouth was on hers before she could make a sound. "I said no more talking," he murmured, nudging his nose against hers. "We're going to bed, and we're going to kiss for a little bit."

"Maybe a little more?"

Chuckling, Harry kissed the top of her cheekbone. "Whatever Mrs. Styles wants, she gets."

"Stop it with that. We're—mm."

"Shh. No more talking."

"It's—It's Doctor Styles," Y/n corrected, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck.

"Of course. Now, where were we?"

"Have a wonderful, wonderful day, Dr. Styles."

"It's review day. My least favorite day," Y/n huffed, slumping against the seat of the car.

"Impossible," Harry said, leaning across the middle console to kiss her temple. "Today is your first day of work as Dr. Styles, which means it is the best day."

Y/n's cheeks flushed at the sound of her name. Her new name. She loved it, of course, she wouldn't have changed her name if she didn't. But it was just so new. They'd only been...married...a few weeks. Seeing the ring on her left hand still surprised her from time to time.

"Are you going to say Dr. Styles every time you address me?" she asked him.

Harry's grin was broad as he winked and said, "Absolutely, Dr. Styles."

"Harry—"

He took her chin in his hand and kissed her long and hard. When he pulled back, her entire face was red. "Harry! Anyone could see—"

"Let them. I love my wife, and everyone should know it," he said. "I'll be by for lunch, okay?"

"Really?"

Harry kissed her forehead. "Yep. Gonna bring you flowers and embarrass you in front of all your students and make them jealous at the same time. So go, I'm looking forward to being a trophy husband."

He was being silly, he knew that, but he couldn't help it. They were married. Harry would shout it from the rooftops if he could, but he would settle for making Y/n blush every chance he got.

Grinning from ear to ear, Y/n surged forward and kissed him. "Do you have to bring the flowers?"

Chuckling, Harry pecked the bridge of her nose. "I have to bring the flowers, Dr. Styles."

Y/n, Dr. Styles, wrinkled her nose at Harry, her husband, who just wrinkled his at her and kissed her pouted lips. "You better go, Dr. Styles. You're gonna be late for class."

She nearly told Harry to drive them back home, that she didn't want to go back and teach, she just wanted to stay in all day with him. But that was impractical. She had to go.

So Y/n got out of the car and went, but not before one more kiss to Harry's lips.

All day, when students called her Dr. Styles, Y/n blushed. She got through her lectures without a hitch, but she couldn't avoid the teasing questions at the end, or the cheers and whistles when Harry came by as promised, a takeout bag in one hand and a large bouquet of her favorite flowers in the other. He ate up all the attention, then sat Y/n on his lap while they ate lunch together. And when her next class was about to start, he didn't leave like she expected. He stayed in her desk chair and minded his own business while she gave her lecture, though she could feel his gaze on her every now and again, each one more heated than the last.

Y/n could feel each one and tried not to rush through one of her lectures so they could get home. That wasn't who she was, she was a good professor who didn't let her husband's—her husband's—bedroom eyes get in the way of a lecture. She was better than that, she would be better than—

"I think that covers everything. I think you would all benefit from some free study time, so...so get studying!"

Students trickled out one by one, some of them going up to Y/n to ask her a question or congratulate her or both. She answered and accepted each graciously, but her fingers were also tapping furiously against her leg, just below the hem of her skirt. And finally, when the last student was finally gone, Y/n turned around and launched herself at Harry.

"Take me home," she mumbled against his mouth. "Take me home right now, please."

"Darling, you have one more class—"

"Now," she insisted, before going back to kissing him all over. His neck, his jaw, his cheeks, the corners of his mouth.

Harry hummed as he threaded his hand through her hair. He gripped her waist and indulged her in one more kiss before he tilted his head back. "I love you, my darling, darling wife, but no."

"No?"

"No. I know you want to now, but you'd be disappointed for letting your students down later," he said.

Y/n wanted to protest, but she knew Harry was right, so she slumped against his chest. "But I want you right now."

"Believe me, you are not alone in that department," he said, squeezing her hip. "But, we have our whole lives together, hm? So I will wait, and so will you, and when we get home..."

"Promise?"

Harry kissed his wife, loving the feel of her body pressed against his. "Promise."

"Okay, we're live in three, two, one!"

The host of The Daily Show smiled at the appropriate camera and did his normal greetings after the commercial break, then announced that Y/n was here.

"Welcome Dr. Y/l/n"

Y/n was nervous beyond all reason, but somehow she managed a small smile. "Thank you. I—It's Dr. Styles."

She wasn't used to this. She wasn't used to the cameras and the attention and the live studio audience. Well, she was, but her lectures were different. That was her safe space. This...a live television interview was not her safe space.

"Right! Of course, congratulations!" the host said. "How is married life treating you and your husband? What's his name again?"

"HARRY!" someone in the audience shouted, which caused everyone to laugh and cheer.

Y/n blushed. How long had they been married, and she still blushed at the mention of her and Harry being married? "Good. Good, I guess. We're very happy."

"I'm glad! And I'm so curious to know how the two of you met. A Cambridge professor with multiple PhDs and a world famous pop star. How does that happen?"

The host's voice wasn't condescending, merely curious, but Y/n wasn't prepared to talk about this. She didn't come to talk about her relationship.

Her mind buzzed with an answer that wouldn't be rude but would also change the subject. "We...met during the pandemic, which was when I realized how lacking schools were in...in so much. Which sounds silly, but I skipped most elementary grades and spent most of my time in higher education. But I...I realized I could help."

"Right! You became quite the internet sensation during lockdown to make educational videos, which obviously led to this. Your very own curriculum."

Grinning, Y/n nodded.

She never set out to write a series of textbooks for children. Y/n had a busy life, a fulfilling life as a professor. And yet somehow, she found herself wanting to do more. Harry had a lot of...younger family, and she liked to help them with their homework and projects and such. But her first look at their textbooks was very disappointing.

"This is what they're teaching you? This isn't even historically accurate! Where's..."

It was safe to say once something was on Y/n's mind, she couldn't let it go. Harry was amused but supportive, his usual reaction when she took on a new project.

"How can I help, love?"

"You didn't even finish school. How are you going to help me write a textbook?"

"Ouch, love."

"Well?"

"I mean you're right, but you could always say, 'Thank you husband. I love you so much.' Now you try."

"Thank you husband! I love you so much!"

"See? Not so hard."

"I started by just writing one. A comprehensive American History textbook," she said now, tapping her fingers under the desk where no one could see. " Kids have the capacity to learn so much more than what schools are currently teaching them. Leaving things out or not acknowledging certain events or painting our nation's history in a certain light is a disservice to them."

Y/n wasn't expecting applause, didn't necessarily want it. So she was surprised when the audience cheered for her answer. She smiled despite herself, then glanced to the side where Harry was standing off camera. He gave Y/n a thumbs up and blew her a kiss.

"That's amazing," the host said. "So you started with one, and it just progressed from there?"

"Yes, I—Once my mind is set on a project, I can't let it go, so I carved out time and just...wrote a bunch of textbooks, I guess. Well, I researched and got a Master's in Urban Education first. But then...then I wrote a bunch of textbooks."

"You wrote an entire elementary and middle school curriculum by yourself! That's incredible, Dr. Styles."

The audience cheered again, and when it died down, the host asked her more questions about her books, which she was happy to answer. She talked about her approach and her willingness to not shy away from or hide unsavory history. "In a way that's appropriate for each age group, obviously," she said. "But it's important for children to understand the complexity of history and that there's never just one side to a story. I tried really hard to be respectful and honor forgotten voices that have been left out for too long."

"Would you ever teach to younger pupils, yourself?" the host asked.

"Oh heavens no," Y/n said quickly. "My students at university can barely keep up with me. No, I—I wanted to do my part by providing well-rounded, unbiased material, but I'm not sure kids would want me to teach it."

And when it was all said and done, when the cameras were off, the host shook her hand and thanked her for coming to the show.

Y/n walked off the set and toward Harry, who was quick to spin her around in his arms. "You were fantastic," Harry said.

"I know! I was nervous at first, but I just am so proud of my work, you know? So it was easy to talk about. And I even managed a few jokes!"

Harry laughed because her "jokes" flew over everyone's heads. The only reason Harry got them was because Y/n practiced them on him the night before. "They were great."

She smiled, but it dimmed the longer she looked at him. "You didn't think they're funny."

"What? I didn't say that! Why would you—"

"You didn't have to. It's all over your face," she said, pouting. "You don't think I'm funny?"

"I think you're brilliant, and I think you have so many talents. Can you let the rest of us idiots be funny?"

"I suppose that's fine," she huffed. "Can we go home now?"

Kissing her temple, Harry took her hand and led her out of the studio. "We can go wherever you want, Dr. Styles."

#harry styles #harry styles x professor yn #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

[cryptomiracle]

what type of lover is sam winchester?

sam winchester x reader (fluff headcanons)

"Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark

Show me the places where the others gave you scars

Now this is an open-shut case

Guess I should've known from the look on your face

Every bait and switch was a work of art"

-willow by taylor swift

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WARNING(S)

I'm just on season 14 atm, but I took a break from watching it to focus on other things, so I apologize if his character is inaccurate.

gender neutral reader

this is my first time writing for supernatural, please be understanding of this

This is kinda short

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psychical touch

he's not very big on PDA, other than hand holding or a simple little peck on the cheek/hand every now and then.. but in private? this man cannot get enough.

If you're a night owl, he's the type to sit on the couch with his head laying on your lap at like 2 am, trying to fight off sleepiness just so he can be with you. when you two sleep together, he pulls you as close as humanly possible and sleeps with his face in the crook of your neck.

he's constantly showering you with kisses on your nose, on your mouth, on your cheeks, on your hand, you name it.

He's the type to kiss you goodbye, then pull you back into another kiss, and then another, and then another, until you have to psychically pull yourself away from him.

Sometimes when he gets spooked he'll involuntarily grab your hand.

Now don't get me wrong, he enjoys when you give him the same energy, he loves for you to comb your fingers through his hair, or when you wrap your arms around his arm when you two are walking around (it doesn't matter where you're going)

if you were to randomly walk up to him and hug him, he would literally melt into you, he would do all he could to prolong the hug as much as possible, just to stay in your embrace.

When you two are cuddling, he's a little spoon (I will die on this hill.)

love language

words of affirmation

This man is a poet when it comes to you, he will wake up in the morning and just start telling you the sweetest things you have ever heard.

he will quite literally have you swooning over him, and he means every bit of what he says.

Although I wouldn't call him an insecure person, you would have to return the favor, even if it's just little confirmation that you still love him.

He's constantly worried that his line of work would cause you to get hurt, or worse.. so you would have to remind him that you don't have any second thoughts, that you can take care of yourself and that you don't want to be with anyone else.

acts of service

He loves doing things for you, whether it's carrying your bags, or running you a bath.

he'll do things without you even having to ask.

if you show any interest in something in a store, consider it yours.

Quality time

hes fine with going out to a nice restaurant, but he's also okay with just having a homemade dinner with you. He's happy as long as he gets to spend time with you.

He's an okay cook. but he likes to cook with you, it's his favorite way to spend quality time with you

Sometimes though, he would rather go to a restaurant he enjoys seeing you get all dolled up, it makes his heart melt.

When y'all first started dating, he definitely had to ask dean for date ideas, but once y'all finally got fully secure in your relationship, he'd just ask you what you wanted to do.

He enjoys sitting at home and reading with you, or doing research on whatever case him and dean are working on at the moment.

He greatly appreciates if you help him with his research as well, if you were to find something before him, he'd compliment you and tell you how smart you were, & how much of a help you were to him.

He's just a little sweetie pie

(I love him so much YALL DON'T EVEN KNOWW)

fights

Honestly, fights with him aren't that bad.

He will let you vent out all of your emotions, but if he thinks you're being irrational he will let you know.

He does have a habit of storming into another room, or going quiet whenever he feels himself get genuinely angry, mainly because he doesn't wanna yell/blow up at you.

After he cools down, he will attempt to resolve whatever it was that caused the fight to begin with.

Oftentimes, he will try to avoid conflict with you all together.

I can just imagine the two of you fighting in front of dean and Castiel, and them just standing there like "🧍🏼‍♂️👀"

If it's a really bad fight, he'll need a little moment alone to settle down.

jealousy

imma give him a 4.5/10 on the jealousy scale.

He's secure enough in himself, and your relationship to where he doesn't feel jealous over little things.

but if somebody tests it, he will let it be known that you're his.

Like, if a cashier at a store were to flirt with you, despite him being right next to you he'll shoot them a confused yet humored look while sneaking his hand around your waist & pulling you closer.

what kind of lover is sam winchester?

overall, sam winchester is such a great lover his love is so bittersweet, kind, patient, and understanding. He's such a sweetheart ♡

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #supernatural #gender neutral reader #tags for reach #cutie patootie #sam winchester x you #fluff #supernatural fluff #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester x y/n

[scekrex]

Cute idea!

Adam who's a very crafty guy, like a headcannon that I told you about where he was the one who created blue prints for the Exterminators' masks and his own, and his axe/guitar. Reader just going out for an outing with friends and comes back to find Adam just tinkering with his mask and creating blue prints for a few other things he'd like to have and he doesn't hear reader coming in, so he gets spooked when reader just wraps his arms around him and asks him what he's doing since he never really told him about his creative side.

Love you ❤️

Babes I adore you for your prompts like dzzcdhcz this is so lovely and tbh I kinda got carried away and we get some soft Adam w this one - maybe a little ooc but I feel like it fit the vibe. I love you too <3

Let the sun set on your life and I'll make, oh I'll make you mine

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

You were quite surprised when you came home and the apartment was quiet, no Adam jumping up from the couch to greet you like an eager golden retriever, no complaining on why you got home so late. The only noise that was heard was the rustling of paper and you believed the sound of sanding something down.

When you entered the living room you understood why. Adam was sitting at the desk you two had placed in the corner of the room - the first man had said he needed it in case Sera wanted any work done. The desk itself was covered in blueprints you had never seen before, blueprints of countless exterminator masks - had Adam made them himself? Probably.

The brunette was so focused on his doing that he didn't even notice you, he was clearly very concentrated on his task - a thing Adam did rarely, it was cute to see him like that. Yet you wondered why Adam had never told you about his creative side when it seemed to play such a big part in his life. With slow, quiet steps you walked up on him, wrapped your arms around his hips and rested your chin on his shoulder as you watched him tinkering - well that had been the plan at least. Adam not only flinched at the sudden contact, he straight up screeched, dropping the sandpaper and the horn he had been working on.

“The fuck babes,” he complained as he turned his head slightly in your direction, “You can't fucking sneak up on a guy like that.” You just grinned at him, amused by his reaction you placed a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, “Yet I just fucking did.” Adam grumbled something as he tried to hide his project as best as he could, Adam's best wasn't good enough for you though, your eyes caught onto it pretty quickly. “That’s my exterminator mask,” you spoke with pure amazement and pointed to an older looking blueprint, the brunette simply nodded. “And this is yours,” that earned you another nod. “You made these things from scratch?” and for a third time Adam did nothing but nod at your words. You pulled back a little, one arm remained wrapped around his hips as you came up next to him to get a closer look. It amazed you that Adam made all of this - yeah he was a creative guy, he was a musician after all, but this? You didn't know your boyfriend was a crafty guy. Your eyes lightened up as you spotted the blueprint for his guitar, “You made your guitar yourself?” The leader of the exorcists grinned down at you, “Yeah, y'know back in Eden I had a guitar, had made that baby myself. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever made. So when I got to heaven I wasn't allowed to bring my girl with me, so I made a new one.”

You grabbed the blueprint that featured the battle ax version of his guitar, looking over it only to realize how many details Adam had included. Your eyes were roaming over the sheet of paper in awe, you knew he loved his guitar, he made that quite obvious, but you didn't know he loved it that much. The first man shot you a proud smile as he he'd a certain blueprint in one of a certain mask. “And what are you currently working on?” you reached for the mask that was laying on the desk but Adam slapped your hand away, “It’s not fucking finished yet.” That was all you got before he began to neatly sort the blueprints and put them back in the drawer, the mask remained on the desk, mainly because it was too big for the drawer.

“Besides what the fuck took you so long? You've kept me waiting for fucking forever,” ah there was your bitchy boyfriend you loved so much. “Oh y'know, just out with the bros, we kinda lost track of time.” Adam huffed as he got up from the chair he had been sitting on and wrapped his hands around your body, pulling you in, “That fucking so? Sounds like someone should make it fucking up to me for forgetting about me.” You grinned up at him wickedly as you slowly dropped to your knees, “Mhm, maybe I should.”

-

“Where the fuck are we going,” you complained as you playfully hit Adam's head. A good hour ago the first man had blindfolded you - with consent of course - had lifted you up so that you were sitting on his shoulder and had left the apartment like that. “Just shut the fuck up and wait, it'll be fucking worth it.” You weren't doubting that at all, you trusted the brunette with your life, but you were also painfully impatient. You just wanted to ask again as he stopped. He carefully lifted you off his shoulder. Then he lifted the blindfold from your eyes.

You were on top of the highest building in heaven - the spot of your first date with Adam. And you had arrived just in time to watch the sun set, covering heaven in the most perfect looking golden glow. Your eyes flickered to him as you noticed movements in the corner of your eyes and you stopped breathing for a moment as you watched him getting down on one knee. He wouldn't- no, he wouldn't. Adam had told you countless times that he would never get married again, not after Eden. And yet he kneeled there, right in front of you.

“Babes, we both know I suck at this entire ‘communicating my feelings’ shit,” he began and you grabbed his sleeve to pull him back on his feet again - it didn't work, he continued to kneel there. “Fuck, I have never enjoyed someone's company as much as yours okay? I fucking love you, enough to rot out all of hell just for you if you'd ask. And I don't wanna fucking lose you again,” he pulled one hand from behind his back, revealing a exterminator mask - the one he had been working on yesterday. But it was finished now, it looked like the perfect combination between your own mask and Adam's mask. “I want you to become the fucking second commander of the exorcists,” he explained the meaning behind the new designed mask. And suddenly it made an awful lot of sense. Why it looked like both of your masks combined, why he had been working on this thing for only God knows how long. You wanted to reach for the mask and accept but Adam pulled it from your fingers and slapped your hands away, “Be fucking patient, I'm not done yet.” You chuckled a little but did as you were told. Adam inhaled sharply, he was visibly struggling to get the following words out, but eventually his eyes met yours and he spoke, “I don't just want you to be that though - fucking second commander. Nah babes. I want you to be my husband,” there was a pause, a glimpse of fear was visible in his eyes and gleamed at you.

He was scared you'd reject him.

Of course he was after everything he had been through and yet he had enough courage to ask you to marry him. He had healed enough to ask you to be his husband, knowing quite well how his last two marriages had ended. But the first man trusted you with his life. And you thanked him for that in silence as you dropped to your knees. You took the mask from his shaking hands and placed it gently in your lap as you pulled him in for a kiss. The brunette's beautiful golden wings were shaking and you just noticed that it wasn't just his wings, it was his entire body. The wings covered in golden feathers spread and wrapped around you, pulled you in a little closer as Adam worshiped your lips with his own.

“Fucking yes, Adam. I'd be an idiot to say no to marrying you,” the smile your words caused was indescribably beautiful, it was full of confidence - not the confidence Adam put up for heaven, to mask his scars and bury his true emotions deep, but real confidence. The brunette's forehead rested against yours and you placed a soft kiss on top of the tip of his nose. “I love you too Adam,” you hummed in a soft, calming tone and you noticed how your words and actions alone were able to make the fear in his eyes disappear.

Adam wasn't able to remember the last time he had been this happy. Maybe when he had met you for the first time? Or when he had officially got the privilege to brag about you being his boyfriend? No. None of these events compared to what he was feeling then and there. It was special, unique, just like you were. And he was happy you wanted him for all eternity.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

[testingthewatersss]

James Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture,  etc. Just unapologetic cuddling and comfort. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Oneshot 1960 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI

What's in a name?

She doesn’t notice when he falls asleep.

Not until he jolts, startling himself awake in her arms, empty mug rolling from his lap, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

“Hey” she whispers, not wanting to spook him further, “Hey, handsome…”

Instantly he pivots, turning to look at her with a muddled expression that makes her smile.

“You must be exhausted” she notes, “You don’t normally just pass out on me”

“Sorry?” he swallows, “Sorry, Doll, I-”

“Don’t be sorry, Bucky” she purrs, “You’re tired… I told you to try and get some rest”

“I didn’t try” he admits quietly, “I just… god…You just make me feel so safe, Y/N/N… I couldn’t help it.”

At first she thinks it sounds like he’s embarrassed. Especially when she sees the flush of red crawling up his neck to fill his cheeks. But then, she meets his eyes again, and realises that it’s vulnerability that she’s hearing instead of shame.

“You make me feel safe too” she tells him softly, wanting to encourage him to open up, “C’mere, love… forget the cup, we’ll get it later”

Bucky smiles, bashful but overwhelmingly happy as he turns fully, accepting her invitation and curling up into her arms completely.

His nose is tucked into her throat, and her heart is beating slow and steady beneath his head.

Even though every joint in his body is throbbing with tension he thinks that this is bliss.

“Can I ask you something”

Her voice is like music.

He’s saying ‘Yes’ before she’s even finished her question.

“Why do people call you Bucky?” she wonders, “I know it’s from your middle name” she adds, “but James is hardly a mouthful”

He’s never heard her say his name before.

His proper name, at least.

In all fairness, she rarely even calls him Bucky, favouring shorter, more affectionate nick-names instead.

“I don’t remember exactly” he says when he realises that he hasn’t answered her yet, “but, I know my dad came out with it first, and then it kinda just stuck… I think my ma fought it for awhile, but he won in the end, and I… I only got James when I was in trouble…”

“Well” Y/N sighs, curiosity satisfied, “I’ll steer clear of it then— Wouldn’t want you thinkin’ you’d done anythin’ wrong.”

He’s gawking at her again. He can feel himself just drowning in her eyes, in the soft, velvet lilt in her voice.

He thinks, James had sounded like a prayer, when she’d said it a few moments before. Like something precious, or maybe…maybe it was more like a secret… He’s not sure exactly, but he’s suddenly overcome with the need to hear her say it again;

“Will you say it again, doll?”

Now she’s confused. There’s a crease between her brows it takes a moment for it to soften, for her to offer him a sweet, understanding smile.

“James?” she tests, making sure she’s come to the right conclusion.

He nods, totally entranced.

“James” she repeats, more certain than before, “I think it’s nice” she coos, reaching over to stroke his cheek, “it suits you…”

Does it?

He remembers echoes of conversations between his parents. Playful and bickering as his mother tried to scold his father for replacing their sons name without her consent.

He remembers her calling him James when he was sick, once, as a small child. The ghost of a gentle palm against his brow as he sobbed, feverish, and worried for Steve-

“He’s fine, James… You got the worst of it this time, I promise — You can see him soon…”

Then, he thinks, he remembers the way it sounded when it was yelled.

Summoning him because he’d trailed mud inside with his boots, or been caught skipping school, or…

Or because Sargent James Buchanon Barnes was the name on his papers.

He’d corrected the Americans as soon as he could.

A polite ‘Bucky, sir’ being all it took for them to dismiss his formal name.

He hadn’t dare correct the others.

James, James, James—

“I should’t have asked.” Y/N says calmly, seeing how he suddenly looks very, very scared, “I’m sorry- I was just bein’ nosey”

His head shakes. Her voice overwhelming him for a moment.

James.

It’s her he can hear now, and he knows, just like that, that he’d never correct her either. He focuses on that, on how safe she makes him feel.

“..It… it’s just been a long time since… since anyones called me that without it makin’ me feel sick” he explains weakly, battling embarrassment as it claws at it his, “Some… some of the HYDRA officers they’d…” he gulps, “They’d try to get a reaction out of me, and I… I never knew what to do to make them happy…”

“Bucky” she whispers, brushing his jaw with her thumb

“They didn’t know about that” he says, aiming for jovial, “Nicknames must not’ve made my file.”

His smile falters, the one side of his lip that he’d managed to quirk falling back considerately as he builds up the courage to keep talking;

“They’d tell me I sounded American” he remembers, “They’d make me tell them where I was from… and they’d… they’d ask me what my name was, and I— I didn’t know what to do, I- I tried… I’d say that I didn’t have one— they, they liked that best, but if that didn’t work I’d just say I didn’t remember… but sometimes they’d act like they… like they cared, y’know? like they… like they wanted to me remember and then they’d just…”

Slap me, he thinks, fighting the urge to flinch, Slap me, spit on me, make me open my mouth—

He shivers, looking at her, desperately searching for a distraction. For a way to make the memory stop

“You’re home now” she promises, fingers slipping up to trace the soft curve of his lip as she wonders why he’s kept them parted, “And I’ll call you whatever you want…”

He pecks a kiss against her knuckles, forcing himself back to the present.

Now that he feels almost certain that this is real, that Y/N really is staying with him, no matter what he tells her, it’s almost too easy to slip into the parts of his past that he’s been managing to repress.

He considers the times when people would tell him that that type of openness was going to be key to his recovery.

They’d tell him that you can’t heal from things you won’t let yourself feel, and he remembers thinking that feeling them was bad enough the first time around. He figured back then that if his brain could shield him from even some of the horrors he’d endured then maybe that was the type of mercy he deserved.

Now though, feeling the raw sting of trauma slipping out from one of the more superficial wounds he’d sustained during his near century of imprisonment, he’s surprised at how comforting it is to be accepted while it hurts.

The vulnerability is a small price to pay, he decides, maybe this is healing.

“They hurt me” he hears himself confess, voice a whisper, “Y/N/N, they… they really hurt me.”

“I know” she agrees quickly, totally taken off guard by this seemingly random display of trust, “I know they did.”

Bucky just blinks, adjusting to the fact that he’s said that in the first place.

Why did I say that? he thinks, I’ve never said that out-loud before.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Y/N asks him calmly, hand slipping down to the nape of his neck, “You don’t have to think about pain, baby… Not like you did before, anyway. No wonder you don’t like sleepin’ on your own”

He’s still just starring at her. Wide eyed and trusting.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore either” she smiles, feeling his arms flexing against her waist, “Since I’m here to keep you company, huh? and you can decide what you want me to call you… I know I’m prone to ‘sweetheart’, but I’m open to alternatives.”

“God” he gulps, still overwhelmed with the sheer acceptance she’s drowning him in, “God, Y/N/N… You, you can call me whatever you want just, just please don’t leave me.”

Please don’t leave me.

He’s never said that like this, before either.

Sure, he might have sobbed out the same sentence, desperate and terrified- He might’ve even whispered it in Russian against her chest as she slept, an unheard plea, but, he’s never said it so calmly.

Y/N has no idea what has caused him to speak so bluntly. She decides fairly quickly that it doesn’t matter.

“I’m not going to leave you” she swears, looking him in the eyes, “I love you, I’m right here.”

“James” he exhales, “I like it when you call me James… Nobody… Nobodies called me that in so long— not, not without it causin’ me problems…”

“Alright…” she murmurs, “…James, I love you very, very much, and I am staying right here…”

His chest aches. It feels like his heart is about to burst behind his ribs.

“Jesus christ-” he whispers, “— Y/N/N, I… I can’t even tell you how much I love you… You’re an angel…”

She beams at him, eyes rolling affectionately.

“You’re a sap” she tells him, “But you’re my sap, huh?”

And then, just like that he’s crying.

His eyes are stinging, tears burning his nose as they spill down across his face in uneven rivets.

Y/N tucks him closer in towards her chest as he starts to choke back sobs;

It’s heart-breaking. Really, truly, heart-breaking, but, it’s hardly unexpected.

“..C’mere…” she whispers, instinct guiding her hands to his back, so she can start to soothe his straining ribs, “…You’re okay…. You’re safe now, I promise…”

Both of his hands, metal and flesh are clutching her waist, betraying how desperately he needs her assurances. He’s way too busy bawling to try and formulate any kind of coherent response, so he doesn’t even try. He just clings to the woman he loves and retreats inwards as his body continues to weep.

He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so far gone. He’s not even certain that he’s upset…

When he tries to think about that, it only gets more muddy, because he… he doesn’t think this is anything he’s felt before.

It’s not isolated terror, or despair, or agony— but, it’s not a happy feeling either. This isn’t the kind of relief fulled weeping that he was wracked with on the first night he was brought to a room and it dawned on him that he really was free— that it was over— It’s some strange mixture that he can’t put a name too, all he knows is that it’s too much to process. His chest hurts, so do his eyes, and he can’t stop crying now that he's started,

“Shhhhhh”

Y/N’s gentle exhaling washes over him like a wave. Gentle and soothing as her fingers card through his hair;

“…Everything’s okay now…” she promises, “…You’re alright…”

He keens back into her touch before turning, letting his cheek rest against her chest. It’s different to how he was positioned before, with he was entirely hidden within the crook of her neck, and now he can’t help but whimper as the cool room air laps at his flushed, wet, face.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Y/N sighs, hating the fractured sound he’s just made, “You’re okay… You’re safe… It’s all okay…”

Her thumb is on his cheek. She’s drying his tears while she tells him over and over again that he’s home, that he’s not in danger, that she loves him, and that it’s all going to be alright—

and Bucky thinks in a startling break from hysteria, that this, this feeling is mercy.

Masterlist

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier x you #Oneshot #fluff #x reader #drabble #bucky barnes oneshot

[sp0o0kylights]

oho? I love playing with character perceptions, so number 11 got my immediate interest!

AND THE LAST ASK for real thank you for sending in so many and another thank you to anyone who sent in any ask at all this was a blast:

Turns out this connected to a different document. I desperately need to clean out my drive ANWAY

11! "A large part of the Steve Harrington lore was that he left his throne, his popularity, childhood best friends, behind for Nancy Wheeler. This was a lie."

Snippet:

A thump as the object rolled out of its bag and onto the floor.

It was a wooden baseball bat, same as one might find anywhere--with one noticeable difference.

"Steve." Eddie said simply, eyes raking over the haphazardly hammered nails, some of which were bent from use, "What the hell is this?" 

Steve at least, had the good graces to look abashed. "Ahhh…" He said, trailing off as he clearly fished for anything other than the truth and came up empty. "A nailbat?"

Spoken out loud it even sounded like a fucking fantasy weapon.

"Is that blood all over it?" Eddie asked, tone amazingly even given the panic that galloped wildly through his chest. 

The fucking thing wasn't entirely covered but there was unmistakable red and black splatter that was either the product of the world's best prop artist, or the real deal.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think any of the blood is human." Steve said, who overall looked more embarrassed than anything.

Like Eddie has found his porno mags, and not whatever the hell this was. 

"No Steve, that does not make me feel better." Eddie managed to get out, the words a little strangled. "You don't think the blood's human? What the hell do you think it is!?"

Because he had to know. There was no way he could not know, with a literal McGuffin, sitting in between them.  

In fact this entire set up felt like something right of of a D&D scene and once Eddie was done panicking, he kinda wanted to write down a few notes. 

There was a very long, dedicated pause, where once again it became very clear Steve was racking his brain for a lie. 

Eddie let it go on, because he wanted to hear what possible excuse the guy could come up for this. 

Particularly given that Eddie had once shared an English class with him. Steve Harrington was about as imaginative as a child's first chapter book (and frankly, the book probably knew more words.)

"Rabid dogs?" Steve said, sounding more like he was guessing than anything else.  

How he had gotten away with lying to the cops about those house parties of his was a downright mystery.

"Rabid dogs that just might be human." Eddie deadpanned. 

Steve winced.

"I might have swung it at a few people." He admitted.

"No shit." Eddie said, staring at him flatly. It almost felt like he was two people for a moment--a perfectly calm one, demanding answers out of a nervous and clearly spooked Steve Harrington like disappointed mother discovering a baggie of weed--and a person who wanted to fucking book it, immediately.

Before Harrington lost his shit and started swinging the nailbat at him. 

There was no reason for King Steve, richest boy in town and previously its most popular (though given Hargroves penchant for violence, Eddie didn't doubt a lot of people would accept Steve back with open arms so long as the guy stood in between them) to own a clearly used homemade weapon. 

"Okay look, you've caught me in a lot of lies and I'm gonna be real with you, this one came with an NDA." Steve said finally, like that wasn't a wild string of words. "The less you know about it, the better."

And that, Eddie could agree with.

#Eddie: whatcha got there Steve? #Steve #holding a bloody af nailbat #“uhhhh....a smoothie?” #I finally recalled that this one involves Eddie tripping over Steve in a number of weird situations #sort of in the same manner billy tips over him in S2 at the byers house #and just constantly jumps to conclusions #except you know steve has a TBI #multiple concussions #is trying to figure out who he is #and navigate Eddie trying to peg him back into the King Steve persona #while shits happening lol

[rayshippouuchiha]

Thank you! So here I am to infodump, full of gratitude, and you can post this if you want no problem it's just a bunch of scattered ideas so yeah. Feel free to chuck suggestions at me too! I really don't know what to do with these... building blocks just yet.

Akatani Mikumo is Midoriya Hisashi.

Toshinori gets sandwiches by the Midoriya couple and it turns into an OT3 but that's much later down the line.

Hisashi is a journalist, keeps getting into everybody's business and Knows™ more than he frankly should.

Hisashi is a Cryptid™. But of a different energy from his son who is all lightning-in-a-bottle jittery On The Verge Of Throwing Hands feral sort of cryptid, Hisashi is mostly of this... supernaturally unflappable blank-faced chill entity.

Who keeps spooking people bc No Footstep sounds.

And might possibly be partially mute or just ridiculously soft-spoken bc when he tries to speak at normal volumehis fire-breathing quirk goes ballistic.

Might or might not have bloodline relations to AFO. Origins ambiguous, Inko just literally plucked the (then) teen off a back alley like he was a stray cat.

Also might or might not have more than one quirk, see the probable AFO connection.

Izuku got his mumbling thing from Hisashi.

A cryptid man who seems normal enough except a little off-kilter, like two inches to the left of what's a “normal” man? Weirdo but nobody can pinpoint how or why. That's the sort of vibe I want with this Hisashi.

And some Wack™ backstory lore I came up w for Hisashi, I dunno what I'll do w it but:

Cw: mention of infant murder, bc I'm Me™ and I was thinking about Yotsumegami (it's my favorite game) and how my version of Hisashi would tie in with it.

Yanno how in Yotsumegami “unwanted children” (children with disabilities, the younger of a twin pair or every sibling except the eldest in triplets or higher, etc) would be killed (it's a real historical practice in Japan, mabiki, they called it) or something like that? Would be kinda fun if an offshoot of that variety existed in the BnHA world, even if it's not outright child murder kids would be abandoned, especially in the chaos of the Dawn of Quirks. People who were scared of quirked people would abandon their quirked child, quirkist folk abandoned their quirkless children, it's chaos.

It would be more prominent during the initial chaos, though I guess laws and stuff would've been passed later on to prevent it or at least cut down the numbers— and the practice fizzled out but there's still a few remote rural villages who accept “unwanted” children.

One such secret community could be like, giving the surname “Akatani” (red valley, for the red of spider lilies used in mabiki in times past) to the children that were discarded at their metaphorical door. Do they still practice mabiki? Debatable. But it's like a giant secret orphanage with questionable, cult-like mentalities.

Akatani Hisashi was one of those until he miraculously escaped and tried to survive in the outside world.

Or maybe he didn't have the Akatani surname at first bc nobody in the remote village had any surname but once he got out he might've created the surname as a way to hm, not quite honor but carry his origins into his new life.

(maybe Yoichi was almost mabiki'd too, like I said I'm still not entirely sure where I'm going with this)

So Izuku gets to grow up w two parents who care a great deal for him. Maybe they move away, resulting in Izuku not having to deal w Bakugou in his childhood. Maybe Izuku makes friends with some other future 1-A classmate.

The Commission keeps trying to track down this one rogue “vigilante reporter” whose name is unknown. And they keep failing because Hisashi (along with his son and excessive gaggle of... comrades? followers? does the Midoriya family accidentally create an organization of rabid info gatherers?) is a certified cryptid.

Izuku has his hands in so many pots. He's a lot more nosey than in canon probably?

Endeavor had better be prepared bc his entire way of life is about to go up in smoke

I don't know why but I just have this very strong feeling that Stain doesn't like Hisashi for one reason or another.

I... wouldn't be entirely opposed to the AU just chucking Bakugou out the window so that he's not in 1-A (or in UA at all, fuck that pomeranian) and instead is replaced by another loud blond...

Fucking Monoma, LMAO.

A lot of the AU is just ?????? for now and most of it is Hisashi backstory but hnnnnng I want to do something with these jigsaw pieces I just don't know what

Also I'll be sending in Hisashi's design in a non-anon ask but could you append it to this ask's answer instead? Thanks!

I adore everything about this!?!?!

Also I didn't get another ask, anon or not, so Tumblr might have eaten it

#RayRambles #BnHA #MHA

[vampirzina]

Jam

dialogue w. cottagecore!reader & havik

╰ ❝ clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. ❜❜

tw: gender neutral, no y/n, sfw, mdni, friends to lovers, angst, blood, insecurities, oneshot

notes: idk what this is, n i know this dynamic is a big hit or miss but i just think it’d be kinda cute.., set when havik gets burnt.

masterlist

The rocking chair reclines; you toss the wool over your thick wooden needle.

The rocking chair keels over; you knit it into the rest of the pattern.

Occasionally Pinky, the cat, sniffles or stirs in the pool of the morning sun that frayed out through the sliver of glass in the front door, like a spotlight. She slowly blinks at nothing, groggy. You have to cut her some slack; keeping the freshly clean wooden floor company all morning is tiring for a lone cat.

It’s comfortable, here.

For a moment.

You hear two thumps and an audible sound of discomfort, before the rickety wooden door is burst open—Pinky, ears flattened to her head and tail puffed, bounds away and towards you. You abandon knitting entirely, but you don’t get up… Yet.

“Dairou?”

He slams the door so hard that it opens again, the walls shaking with the force of his fury. Havik holds his face in his hands and if it weren’t apparent by now, looks hurt. A splotch of red escapes his wound to hit the floor; you cast all of your knitting material to the side to get up and help.

You knew of his life outside of your quaint little world, but this is the first time he’s ever come to you like this. Any of his bruises or cuts are brushed off at his request, but should he try this time to keep you away, you won’t listen. Your hands dirty with his blood just trying to pry his hands away, and—

You gasp, hands flying to cup your mouth as you step back. You don’t know how long you stood there, but you have to yank yourself into reality to fix this, and swallow down the squeamishness from the spook at the back of your throat.

It was only a peek, but you saw it—Havik’s face was marred by something, something strong enough to skin away his mouth to his nose and leave nothing but burnt flesh and bone.

You haphazardly search the living space as it gets dirtier and dirtier, and Havik’s sounds of pain have died into a low hiss and growl every then and again, but he watches you through the gaps in his fingers. It must hurt to speak right now. You pick a cloth to sacrifice.

“Gods, um, um,” you don’t know how to give the dampened cloth to him if he’s holding his face, so you tuck it in between his bicep and arm. “Clean yourself up. You’re getting blood all over the place.”

You scoot out the nearest chair at the table for him to sit as you scurry to your bathroom. It’s not much, but there’s an aid kit in there; you’ll make do with what you have in there.

By time you come back, the rag in Havik’s hands is so heavy with blood, that simply moving it from the table he set it on to the sink left a mark. You hiss at the sheer spots left on your table, drawing a thumb over it to smudge it out. Ultimately making it worse makes you sigh.

Havik, however, is silent. Deathly silent.

He can’t look you in the eyes though.

“What happened?” you just wanted to know, but it’s obvious that you’ll go without, as you inspect his wound. “The gods must be tired of me calling their name in vain, but… Gods…”

You both stay in silence, staring, looking everywhere else but each other. It’s you who breaks it, realizing that the wound is not going to heal itself. “Can I?”

Dairou only grunts, his face scrunching—you would have backed off if he didn’t make a snide remark at you. “You’ve been staring all this time, I’m surprised you even ask.”

You mumble an apology, and get to work.

You do the best you can, at least to do away with most of the blood, but the redness won’t go away for a while. You’re surprised he’s even still alive, as you work on helping him. It’s unclear to Havik just how badly you’d be stricken with torment if he’d actually died.

Once you finish, you step back and admire your work with clasped hands. “So? …How do you feel?”

“Terrible,” Dairou responded in annoyance; but the restrained kind of it. He didn’t want to upset you further. Your bandages having been wrapped in a way that’d let him breathe and speak.

“Well,” you started, a bit forlorn at his seemingly indefatigable anguish. “Maybe a little less terrible?”

Dairou took a while to answer that one—he looked at you from the seat. And then, “Whatever.”

You look away when he looks at you, and if he could somehow, he’d frown. It’s unbeknownst to you that he’d been vying for your attention ever since he’d mashed your fresh strawberry garden into jam, something he’s come to both regret and love. But you look so… Unsure of him. Like you’re afraid.

“You…” he comes back to at the sound of your voice intruding his ears and shrouding his thoughts. “Should bathe, or something. There’s a change of clothes you left here. And ‘cause I think you don’t want to talk about it, you can just… I don’t know… Go or… Stay…”

“You’re bloody yourself,” Dairou pointed out, and he wasn’t really wrong—it was his blood, staining your cheek and fingers and turning the air from stale to coppery. It’s a new sight he found he liked, but needed to keep to himself. “And your home… Filthy.”

“From the blood, I know,” you peer down at your fingers, and shamefully you hide them. It looks like jam yet so far from the real thing as it turns a dark brown hue from oxidation. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll clean up.”

Dairou stood. You were right, sort of—he didn’t want to talk about it—not because it’s too soon. It was out of fear of what you’d might think of him now that he’s been scarred like this for the rest of his life. Would you still want to want him around? Do you find him hideous? Can you even look at him? These things don’t just go away with a shower.

But for a moment as he steps out from the spare room in your cottage and smells the sweet scent of warm food in the oven, it wanes. It reminds him of the very reason why he loves you in the first place.

Indiscriminate, is what he’d call you. Loving, even.

“Ah,” you perked from where you were mopping the floor, noticing him at the corner of your eye and watching as he moved to sit in the same place again. “Are you staying?”

“…Where else could I go?”

Oh. And ow.

That hurt. It wasn’t even really meant to be an insult, as the way he said it was in defeat, but it strung your heart strings the same way it would if he’d said something mean. You sigh, “Dairou…”

He loved it when you said his name, but not like this.

“You are the only person who can see me like this and care, not be afraid,” Dairou went on, his tone wrapping itself in grief and confusion. “How?”

“What do you mean, ‘how?’ You’re still my friend, and even if you weren’t, why leave you in pain if you thought to come to me to fix it?” you’d stop sweeping now, the inner corners of your brows curved upwards in offense. “You got hurt. Why do you expect me to abandon you?”

Because he felt like he was now undeserving to be in proximity to a beauteous person—and yet it doesn’t come out—you feel it. You were smarter than that and this conversation is taking a turn for the worse because of the tension bubbling up.

The wooden mop in your hand gets rested against the nearest wall with a hefty ‘thud’, and you come to stand before him, closer than the last time you assumed the position. To Dairou’s surprise, you scoot up a chair to sit adjacent to him.

You reach over to take his hand in yours for him to look at you, rubbing there. “Dairou, whatever happened, I’m sorry though it’s not my fault. But… That doesn’t mean I’m going to be afraid of you. It’ll take some time to get used to, but I’d never hate you. In fact, it’s always been the opposite.”

Dairou freezes. He stares.

Had you… Crossed a line now? It gets uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, very quickly. You begin to regret even saying anything like this, but it was out of paranoia of losing him to some silly argument that you said it. The corner of your lips downturn, and with a breathy apology and averted gaze you begin to pull away—but his grip on your hand keeps you.

“Maybe I read the room wrong, and–and maybe you don’t really feel like that back or this is a bad time to have said something like that–bemarriedtoyourworkforallIcarebut–that’s just what I feel, and even if you let me down now it won’t take that feeling away from me,” you ramble, still unable to look at Dairou as the rare look of adoration glazed over him. “…I think.”

You feel small.

His chest could burst, right about now. But he felt if it did literally, he’d truly succeed in spooking you for good this time. Dairou intertwines your fingers first, before lifting yours to his mouth. For a moment he forgets he can’t kiss without lips; so he settled for just having your skin against where they used to be. Dairou would find a way to kiss you even if he were headless. He inhales your scent and shuts his eyes.

This is the most tender you’d get from someone so tormented like Havik.

“If only you knew how bewitching you truly are,” he breathes against your skin, “Foolish thoughts of doubt trump something I thought so obvious.”

“And that’s?” your voice is hoarse and like sandpaper when you swallow.

“Want. My want for you,” Dairou’s moved your hands away from his mouth to caress his cheek. “It’s selfish, borderline primal, but I won’t hold it back. How could you be so stupid?”

What a backhanded confession—but it’s a semblance of reciprocity from Dairou nonetheless. You let out a sheepish laugh, your stick-straight posture slumping in relief, and he lets out a low rumble when you embrace the touch he coaxed with the back of your hand. It’s a savory moment, but it doesn’t last long when you realize where you were. Dairou’s face twists when you suddenly pull away.

“I made food, and,” you cast a glance over your shoulder. “Now that the air is clear between us, I have something to give you.”

He doesn’t get to ask what, you’ve already disappeared into the lounge room. Dairou doesn’t wait for long, though, and you come back with a sweater in your hand. Giddy, you narrate, “It’s for you.”

It’s the sweater you were knitting before he barged in here with his wounds. He’d seen you working on it a few times, but it was for him all this time?

The harbinger of chaos is like a serene sea in your hands.

#mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #havik x reader #havik x you #vampirzina

[angelgarden-posts]

I read your Yan Leona with fem reader, i love it so can I request something similar like yandere Floyd who went to her dorm to surprise her as she didn't come school. While she was kinda have fever so she didn't take her gender changing potion and just went to sleep... In deep sleep.

Yandere Floyd Finding Out Reader is Female (Birthday Special!)

A/N: I was trying to find motivation to write for his birthday event in game (I reinstalled and restarted the game on a new account), so thank you for your request! I hope you enjoy!

TW/CW: Obsessive/Possessive behavior, mentions of blackmail and manipulation, slight suggestiveness

Floyd was slightly irked that you didn’t come to school today, especially since it was his special day, but at least he had an excuse to squeeze you now!

As soon as the last class of the day ended, he immediately headed over to Ramshackle dorm, the crowds of people who parted to let him pass annoying him rather than amusing him today.

As he approached the door to your living quarters, he decided that it would be a nice surprise to spook you. After all, it wouldn’t be a birthday without any surprises!

Twisting the knob open gently, he slipped into the rundown house and crept towards the room that radiated your scent most strongly, as being part eel enhanced his sense of smell.

However, your aroma didn’t smell the same, and his priorities immediately shifted to checking to see if anything had happened to you.

Floyd strode over to your room and kicked down the door, half-surprised that the damage and noise didn’t wake you up.

Then, as his traveling eyes met your miserable, scrunched up face, the mystery of why you smelled weird was solved: you were red with fever.

And the blanket you were tightly hugging around yourself wasn’t going to help either—frail humans like you could die if something as little as temperature fluctuated, so he was going to cool you down.

Floyd threw off your covers, his eyes widening and face dropping immediately into a disbelieving expression (Floyd.exe has stopped working).

The sight of your chest, now adorned with two mounds and one slightly protruding bump on each side where your pecs would usually be, greeted him and he felt his cheeks heating up and turning red like yours were.

He covered his mouth with his hand as his sharp-toothed smile slowly made its appearance and widened widened widened—

This piece of information was the best birthday gift you could’ve ever given him.

Oh, the deals and contracts he could make in order to get you to do what he wanted! Of course, he’d never reveal the information to anyone, as you were his and his alone, but having you dancing in the palm of his hand sent a rush of euphoria through his veins.

First things first though, he had to make sure you were receiving the care you needed. And he was the only one who could give you that care.

Slipping onto the mattress with you, he pulled your limp body towards him so that you were nestled comfortably between his legs and your back was touching his chest.

Wrapping his arms around your stomach carefully, he squeezed you gently and bit his lip to stifle a grunt at your breathy whimper.

He couldn’t let anyone else hear you, see you, touch you like this. Vulnerable and pliant, only he could exercise the privilege of being in your proximity like this.

And Floyd would do anything to prove it.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere floyd leech #yandere floyd x reader #yandere imagines #not beta read #yandere oneshot

[acourtofbooksandshadows]

Not So Routine - Chapter 3

Summary: You and Mor talk about your mates over breakfast. Then get a bit distracted when she invites you to dinner.

Pairing: Eventual!Nessian x Afab!Reader Mor x Afab!Reader

Warnings: Cussing and smut. 18+ only, minors do not interact.

Word count: 1494

Bookshelf Series Bookshelf

When you awoke Mor was in the kitchen making breakfast which you were insanely grateful for. You padded out to where she was carefully, not wanting to spook her. Once she sensed your presence she turned towards you and gave you a beaming smile. You walked up to her and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek, which had a light blush dusting across her face. She was always quick to preen under soft affections. 

“I’ll make the coffee.” She responded with a grateful hum. You made quick work at making the hot beverage, the both of you working around each other in the kitchen like many other mornings you’d found yourselves here. You would alternate between who cooked and who made the tea or coffee. You were always plenty happy when Mor cooked. Her french toast was something otherworldly, which you had praised her for many times in the past, much to her delight. 

“Do you want me to tell you about them?” She asked the question delicately as you sat at your dining room table, mug in hand. Not sure if you were ready to talk about them yet. You pondered her question for a moment. You decided you didn’t want to talk about them yet. But it seemed your bond had another idea.

“Would you mind?” You asked her, cursing yourself in the process. It seemed you were too curious about them to stay away from the topic for long. She took a sip of coffee from the mug you had sat beside her and moaned at the perfect taste. You always made her coffee or tea the exact way she liked it. 

“Cassian is an absolute goofball. He can be kinda hard headed, but he’s a sweetheart. He cares about who he loves more than anyone I know. He’d be the type to rescue a kitten off the street.” She paused for a moment as she flipped the French toast. You smiled as warmth filled your chest, a sense of pride at the way she spoke about your Illyrian mate. 

“He has actually saved more than one kitten. He has also always found them safe homes.” She had a wide smile on her face as she thought about the last time he had saved one after a rambunctious night at Rita’s. The little white ball of fur had found a loving home with Cassian’s favorite baker.

“Nesta is. Well she’s. She is Nesta.” She was a bit more stiff at the topic of the female. Which caused you to sit up straighter. The negative tone in her voice had a protective chill seeping through you. 

“We are all pretty sure she only loves Feyre, Elain, Nyx, Gwyn and Emerie.” She counted them off on her fingers quickly. You relaxed a bit as her tone became lighter. Almost as though she could tell you were on the verge of a growl. The feeling of protectiveness was new to you. 

“What about Cassian?” The name left your lips and you shuddered, it made you feel intoxicated. You hadn’t spoken their names yet you had realized. You also realized you’d never get sick of saying them. 

“She tolerates him most days.” You both giggled at that response. From what you had seen of them yesterday you knew they were deeply in love but you also knew that Nesta was the more serious of the two. Cassian seemed like an absolute heathen.  

For the first time since the bonds snapped into place for you yesterday you reached for them. You let their emotions flow through you freely. You felt complete and utter adoration radiating from them both. It made your chest ache as you craved for that to be directed towards you. You tried to shake off the longing and brought your mug up to your lips, doing your best to close the bonds once more. 

“Would you like to come to dinner at the river house tonight?” Her question had you sputtering and choking on the coffee you had just swallowed. Your eyes were saucers as she came to the table, sitting down a plate of food in front of you before going back to grab her own. As she settled in her chair deep coughs rumbled your chest as you continued to try and clear your throat. 

“What?” The one word reply had her rolling her eyes affectionately. You took a few deep breaths, a hand rubbing your chest where it ached from your coughing fit. 

“That way you can meet them in a more casual setting.” She said it like it was obvious. You had never thought about meeting the people she was closest to. It had never seemed like an option. What you had was something she wasn’t willing to shine a light on. Which had never once bothered you, you enjoyed her private company immensely and had no desire to be public with her. 

“Are you sure?” The question was posed delicately. You searched her face for a sign of hesitation. But you came up empty, she seemed completely set on this. There was no way you were going to sway her decision with the determined look in her eyes. 

“Of course I’m sure.” You eyed her suspiciously as she nibbled on her plump bottom lip, before releasing the flesh ever so slowly. This almost seemed like something she had been pondering for a while.

“It’s not like we’re going to tell anyone that you like it when I curl my fingers just like this.” She did the motion with her fingers, the same motion that had left your whole body shaking countless times. A groan escaped your lips as you watched the motion. 

“If you keep that up I’ll be late for work.” Your cheeks had begun to heat as you watched her lick her lips. She cut a piece of the french toast she had made and brought it to her lips and moaned as the sweetness of the syrup coated her tongue. 

“Would that be a bad thing?” The question was teasing but as she licked a bit of syrup off her finger you were standing abruptly. She smiled sweetly once she knew she had you right where she wanted you. 

“You don’t need these.” You had moved her chair to face you as you dropped to your knees between her legs. You worked the sleep shorts down her legs quickly. She took one last sip from her mug before she turned her full attention to you. Her legs parted for you easily, slipping over your shoulders and your mouth started to water at the sight of her. She hadn’t bothered with any undergarments so she was completely bare to you. 

“So pretty.''The praise left your lips before you kissed up the inside of her thigh quickly. As your mouth met her cunt her hand weaved into your hair. A moan leaving her delicate lips as you licked a strip up towards her clit. You swirled your tongue around the bud gently. Two of your fingers danced along her leg before finding her center. You gathered up some of the slick before pushing them both inside slowly. The way her walls pulsed around the digits had you letting out a deep moan. 

“Fuck. that feels so good.” You preened under the compliment the blonde gave you. You started to curl your fingers in the exact motion she had done not long ago. Her hand that was settled in your hair pulled on it lightly. You continued the motions with your tongue and fingers, the noises slipping from her lips spurring you on. 

As her legs began to shake and squeeze your head you let a moan slip through your own lips. The feeling was exactly what she needed as she was instantly releasing around your fingers. The taste of her was just as addicting as the last time you had tasted her. You helped her come down from the high of her orgasm before you were standing back up giving her a purely cheshire grin. You slipped your fingers between your lips, eyes remaining on hers as you cleaned them off. 

You pulled her pants back up her legs and kissed her lips sweetly. Her lips parted in a content sigh as you sat back in your seat. She had a purely blissed smile on her face that had you humming in contentment. You loved being the one that could make her feel that good. 

“You’re most definitely going to be late to the boutique. I’m gonna return the favor when we wash up.” With that sentence you were both rushing through breakfast. Eager to get into your bathroom. Her words rang true because on shaky legs you were landing in the middle of your boutique almost an hour later. A look of bewilderment was on your best friend's face as you gave her a sheepish smile and a quick apology for your tardiness.

A/N: One more part then there will be more Nessian. I'm not even totally sure how this ended up being smut but here we are lol. As always likes, follows, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tags(open): @kmc1989 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @luvmoo @wolfsbane44 @acourtofinkandpapyrus @moonlwghts @maddietheshoe @hyemishii @fanboyluvr @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @pinksmellslikelove @waytoomanyteenagefeels

#nessian #nessian imagine #nessian x reader #cassian x reader x nesta #nesta x reader x cassian #nesta x cassian #not so routine #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #mor x reader #morrigan acotar #acotar imagine #mor acotar #nessian acotar #nessian acosf #ACOTAR smut #smut #morrigan #morrigan smut

[oddballwriter]

Moon boys and a Ghost reader

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Warnings: Reader is a ghost so of course they're dead. I made it that they died via falling off a high place on accident.  

Author’s Snip: This was kinda fun to think about

Notes: I just ran wild with this. Also this id more so of a platonic relationship than anything 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

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Getting a ghost companion is the last thing the boys expected to have

They freaked the fuck out when you first met because they thought someone broke in and you showed up out of nowhere

You used to be a former Moon Knight but died while still on the job. It's a long story, you and Khonshu did something dumb that pissed the other gods off and they took your abilities for a bit as punishment and a slap on the wrist. But you were too used to your powers and ended up dying while doing a mission

They felt bad and so they kind of just had you continue on as a ghost that just follows around the future Moon Knights to come or at least be able to cross over

Is it a bit shammy, yeah, but you weren't complaining

Steven Grant

Steven asks the most questions about how the whole ghost thing works and what that's like

That's actually how they found out that you can show up in mirrors too, but of course it's YOU and not one of them

It's a bit surprising though, they're so used to it just being them so when one of them sees you they get spooked a little

"Have you always been here and just watched us?" "Yeah. I didn't really want to intervene with what was happening with you guys. I thought having an actual ghost around would mess up what Marc set up. Also he's got issues so I didn't want him thinking that he was actually crazy."

He dances around the "How'd you die?" question but you were in good spirits about it. You said "I completely ate it from eight stories up. I thought I could make the jump."

He's also how the boys know how your levels of appearance works, from moving shit, to mirrors, and actually being seen and heard

Marc Spector

He sort of sees you as an unofficial member of their little group even if you're just a ghost that's sort of stuck following them around

You refer to him as being "double dead" and make to many spector jokes

You get a pass though... because he can't punch you in the throat since it just goes through

I kind of imagine it being like Sock and Jonathan from the short film Welcome to Hell, where you follow him around and sorta bug him

At least you don't back seat everything and tell him what he should be doing... even though he does that with Steven a lot

Jake Lockley

Jake admires your fly on the wall abilities since he tends to do that too

You guys get along pretty well when he's out

He actually will take your advice since "They've been a Moon Knight before and they've at least seen some others before us so they know what not to do."

I actually don't really know what he'd think of a ghost companion other than thinking it's neat

#moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #moon knight #moonknight #platonic x reader #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley