#they know how to cut deep but not so much how to hold things dear so its such light thouches

[shrenvents]

Spellbound

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, oral, fem receiving, unprotected, fluff, some violence, biting

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Witch reader

Summary: You're a witch with a specific skill set, one that has intrigued a certain hybrid.

Word count: 2.7k

...

Voodoo. Magic. Impulse. Obsession.

She was his newest fascination.

He heard her laughter cracking through the walls of the barren bar before it cut short. Klaus observed how the sunlight blazed across her, poorly parked, car. His lips slanted in mild amusement. He told himself, that’s all it was, all she was. Mild amusement for an immortal. Though, something felt different.

He strutted into the place, head hung high as he scanned the bare vicinity. His eyes halted on a man behind the bar, rinsing glass cups. The bartender's eyes adverted from Klaus, the second he caught his stare. The man's nerves were duly noted as Klaus approached him.

“I’ll have a glass of your finest red,” Klaus spoke artfully, with a fake smile plastered on his face. The worker shuddered. “Ug- we’re not serving right now.”

“No worries mate,” his mellifluous voice paused. “The red I fancy isn’t something I’d find on your menu.” The man's gaze shot up to Klaus’s. His lips trembled as Klaus continued his jest. “Unless you intend to provide me with a bite, I suggest you tell me where she’s hidden.” Klaus’s threat echoed through the building, till silence took its place.

Suddenly, the sound of a back door, opening and slamming shut jolted Klaus away from the bartender. He instantly raced to the door, ripping it open. He watched as her frame scattered into her rusted car. He growled. There was no way he'd let her escape once again...

Your body was convulsing with anxiety. Who were you to know a little magic truce with the “other side,” would have a certain hybrid on your front doorstep. It didn’t help when you levitated everything in your apartment at him, including your freshly made spaghetti with bolognese. It was to be expected, that would piss him off...

Yanking the car door shut, you forced the key in and started the engine.

“Where are we headed this time darling?”

“Ahhh!” You screamed, snapping your head to the uninvited passenger. Klaus sat leisurely beside you, and you swear your life flashed before your eyes. “I must say, I enjoyed our time in Chicago. Perhaps San Fran may be the next best thing, love.” His smug face adorned your features, absorbing the way your face contorted in both fear and frustration.

“Jesus,” you huff, and Klaus’s smirk grows. “As much as I love the idea, somehow becoming your personal chauffeur isn’t that appealing.” Klaus chuckles lowly, leaning in, more and more.

“Well, if you hadn’t decided to run off, you crafty little thing," he drawls sweetly, "We wouldn’t have the pleasure.”

“If you weren’t trying to kill me, maybe I’d stick around.” Klaus’s brows twist like he's appalled by your words. “Who said I was interested in killing you?”

“You- I- then, what do you want?” You stammer. Klaus goes quiet. You watch as his expression goes blank before he acts as though he is in deep thought. Then, his mouth gaped in 'awe,' as if the answer suddenly came to him. “Your talents of course.”

“My talents.” You repeat, baffled.

“Yes, do keep up, my dear.”

“Why? You could have any witch at your disposal, at a moment's notice.”

The corner of his lips elevate once more. “I’m flattered.”

He’s become so close now, you feel his breath, and you try not to shiver as it grazes your neck. He, on the other hand, basks in your scent.

“But, unlike my other witches, you have a gift,” he muses. “Your connection with the dead is something to behold, and something I crave.”

After a prolonged silence, you speak. “If I help you with whatever," you move further into your seat, "When it comes to an end, you’ll let me walk away, unscathed?” Your brow quirks, and with every fibre of your being, you manage to maintain eye contact. “Yes, you have my word.” Klaus’s expression went stoic, holding an unflinching seriousness that made your heart rate stutter. And strangely, you knew you could trust him.

That's how you ended up as his lackey. For the past 5 weeks, you were at his beck and call as he tormented humans, werewolves, and vampires alike.

Like any other day, your conscious was eating away at you, as you called upon another ancestor of those he plagued. Today though, you finally broke. He had been cruelly punishing a guy for hours as you questioned his late brother, through the veil.

“That’s enough!” Klaus’s eyes darted to yours, and his angered appearance softened. Instinctively, he gripped your forearm and dragged you out of the motel room.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“What's wrong is that I’m tired, and his brother is telling me jack shit about those ‘hunters.’” You huff, closing your eyes.

Klaus firmly presses himself stock-still, resisting every urge that wishes to devour you, as you naively allow him to hold you so close, to let your guard down, to close your eyes. An urge that has worsened, and become insatiable since you started your venture together.

“Love, why don’t you grab a bite from the cafe across the street, while I fill up the car's tank?” He says heartfeltly, "That way we both can have a break."

Your eyes flutter open, and you nearly tremble at the gentle look that flickers in his gaze. However, his body language, which clutches you tightly, suggests he is anything but. “Okay.”

After five minutes seated alone in a booth, you gathered up the last of the courage you were trying to dispel. Now, headed back to the rented room, to release the hostage. Stupid, very stupid, you thought. But you couldn’t help it.

When you entered the room, the door slowly creaked shut, and shadows engulfed you. It was too quiet, and you couldn’t see the man. Unease filled your system, and you began to regret this decision. That impending regret soon became alarms going off when the captive gripped your torso, roughly caging in your arms. His grip was inescapable, and when you tried to scream, his free hand covered your mouth.

“You fucking bitch,” he murmured with disgust. You winced. “How about I leave you bleeding out here, all laid out for you bloodthirsty master.” The man crackled with humourless laughter. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”

While his venomous words made you cower, you relentlessly struggled against him, fighting with all that you could muster. Unfortunately, your captor was a werewolf, and far too strong for you to at least break free, to cast a spell.

He muffled Klaus’s name with his palm, and tears pricked your eyes. Even after the numerous times you’d bicker and argue, he was still the first person who came to mind, who you hopelessly called out to.

The man began lifting your body towards the door, urgently turning the knob. Just as the outside light cuts into your vision, you're wrenched from him, pulled into a powerful embrace. With ease, Klaus’s arms carried you away, swiftly placing you in the backseat of your car, locked safely inside.

His figure then disappeared just as quickly, and you hear your aggressor's voice wail in pain. Shaking, you curl over yourself, covering both ears pathetically.

After what feels like an eternity, two large hands cup your tear-stained cheeks, bringing you out of your shell. He quiets you, as he slides inside the vehicle, smoothly pulling you onto his lap. One of his arms supports your back, while the other strokes your hair. Calming you down, he mutters things like: 'Everything’s fine now love,' 'I’m here,' 'I’ll take care of you...'

“I’ve never felt so helpless,” you mumble.

He shakes his head. “There’s nothing you could've done to stop a werewolf, especially when a full moon draws near,” he soothes. You press your cheek further into his broad chest. “Though, I wish you would’ve just listened to me for once, and stayed put.”

You shoot your head up, adjusting to face him, close enough that your noses nearly meet. “If I listened to you I’d probably be dead by now.”

“Oh really?” He grins, eyes creasing, “How so?”

“Well, for one, that time you ordered me to question that vampire chick's dead boyfriend about his affair, right in front of her.” Klaus guffaws. “You're laughing, but she would've bit my head off.”

“She wouldn’t have,” he denies, still chuckling.

“Yes, she would have Klaus.” You begin to laugh along.

“You know, I wouldn’t have let her.” His face deadpans, “Like I didn’t let our were-friend hurt you," he voiced, airily. "I gave you my word.”

“Yes, of course, your word.” You giggle nervously, glancing at the hand currently bracing your thigh, gliding its thumb back and forth. “It’s not all that I’ve given you.”

You look up and are met with a mysterious look this time. Your brows furrow in confusion. He smiles dreamily, “Your skills as a witch truly know no bounds.”

“The hell are you talking about now?” You retort, making Klaus laugh loudly.

“I’m talking about your spell," he whispers. "The one that has bewitched me.”

You freeze, heart dropping.

“You don’t mean that...” Your sentence trails off as Klaus stares through you.

He’s so unpredictable, that a part of you believes he's probably playing some sick game. But, there was also a possibility that he meant it, and all the hidden desires, for your unconventional boss, were about to bubble to the surface.

“I've meant every word, from the moment I met you, when you got the better of me.” He smirks, breath fanning your face. “Witchcraft.”

Then his lips take yours, slow at first, but the entanglement shortly turns desperate. Slightly hesitant, you grind on him, eager to pull him closer. He groans, and his hands enthusiastically roam your waist and back, beckoning you nearer.

Moving in a frenzy, as your fingers tangle in his locks, you swing your leg to straddle him. He moans your name in between kisses, and he palms your ass.

Continuously rolling your body into him makes you feel his arousal, which causes a whine to escape. When your lips break apart, his mouth trails down your jaw, to your neck. You gasp, but you don’t stop him. He audibly tells you how much he’s enjoying himself, and you squeeze your thighs over his.

“I can only imagine how sinful you taste here darling.” He remarks as his hand slides over your core, and you whimper. “How about you let me try?” He hums politely. “You know you want me to.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?” His voice rises questioningly, and a hand gropes your chest, while the other grips your chin, tilting your head down to peer into his eyes. “Not here,” you finish, and he smirks wildly.

“Then, I’ll just have to get us a private room?” He purrs seductively into you ear, making you shiver. “One that is, unoccupied,” he rolls his tongue, and you shiver again at the double meaning behind his words. You don’t even want to think about what he did to the man who attacked you.

“Please,” you sigh into a kiss, pecking his lips, which seems to surprise Klaus momentarily. His surprise briskly turns into a beaming smile. “To be continued,” he utters before shifting you off him and rushing out the car.

Not long after, Klaus reappears with that same childlike cheer gracing his features. Jerking open the door, he outstretches his hand like a gentleman. You accept it, and his palm completely envelops yours. He tugs you to his hip, and nibbles on your earlobe while you walk to a random room.

As soon as the door locks behind you, he presses himself against your backside. “Now, how about that taste?” He mutters while lifting your hair to kiss your nape, and rubbing himself against you. You press closer, before spinning around to enclose your mouth on his again. He groans into your mouth approvingly, backing your body toward the queen-size bed.

His lips free yours when your back legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards with a yelp. His hands then make work of your lower half, removing your clothes as he kneels infront of your cunt. You inhale deeply, as cool air hits your bare body.

He goes silent, so you raise your head to peek at him. Klaus is ogling you heatedly, like the predator he is. “Lovely,” he sing-songs.

He abruptly grips your thighs and heaves your core to his mouth, so close, his breath warms your skin. “K-Klaus.”

“Hmmm,” he hums shortly, before delving into you. You sob a cry of shock. His tongue expertly runs over your folds, sucking the nub with such a slow deliberation, like he can’t decide how he wishes to take you at first, as if he’s imagined every way he could.

You whine, motioning him to make his choice, bucking up, feeling his stubble scratch you. Then he grows aggressive, hungrily lapping your clit, over and over, until he ushers out your orgasm.

When your lengthy climax finishes, he sighs pleasantly into the crook of your neck. “You’re incredible,” he emits with a chant of your name, thoroughly relaxing your shaking form.

“Fuck, take off your clothes,” you beg. He immediately abides by your command, tearing off his shirt and pants. You grab his necklaces to haul his lips to yours. You savour every inch of yourself on his tongue, and he relishes in how dirty the act was.

“There’s only so much I can do to you before dawn, and it won't nearly be enough to satisfy my hunger for you.” His poetic words erupt something within. You exhale, “It seems you’re going to break your promise then.”

He stills at your words, befuddled. You elaborate, “There’s no way I’m coming out of this unscathed.” A timid smile spreads across your face, and he almost nods in understanding, feeling a strange quiver in his chest.

Wordlessly, he pulls himself from his slacks, and you take off the last of your clothes. Suddenly feeling a little out of body, you decide to take back some control of the situation. So, you flip your positions, once again, surprising Klaus, though he allows it.

You straddle him and lower yourself onto his thick cock. You whimper the second the tip enters, and he growls, pressing his fingertips into your hips, definitely leaving bruises.

“You’re too big,” you gasp.

“You can handle it, sweetheart,” he states mindlessly. He wraps his arms around your waist and arms, pulling you down onto him. His hips then press completely into you, pushing himself inside to the hilt. A wheeze leaves your lungs as he grounds into you. “Klaus, it’s too-“

“It’s perfect,” he finishes for you. You barely have any time to adapt to his size before he begins pounding. Pleasure wracks through you, and he takes whatever control you had away. His pace is unnerving, and you utter incoherent words, while his fangs graze your neck.

“Tell me,” he groans through his panting. “Tell me you want me.” He demands, though it almost sounds like he’s begging for it. “I-I want you.” The words stumble out as his thrusts reach your center.

“More,” he just about whines.

“I want you Klaus,” you shout. “You feel so good- fuck I’ve always wanted this, you.” You ramble, egged on by him. He loves it, and you feel it in his strength. He holds you tighter, and the air leaves your body.

Feeling his leg tremble, you know he’s close. “Bite me.” His clamped-shut eyelids pop open, and his dark pupils bore into yours. You kiss him and take his bottom lip between your teeth. “Bite me while you cum,” you command.

He gulps before taking his last few pumps into you. He moans into your neck as his teeth puncture your flesh. You cry out at the mixture of pain and pleasure that shatters you both.

After almost 10 minutes, he releases you from his firm caress and kisses the holes in your neck. Still inside, he turns you both on your sides. You catch your breath. “How are you still hard?” You sigh in exasperation, and he chuckles breezily. “I told you, you’ve bewitched my very soul darling.” He smirks.

“This is only the beginning.”

#klaus #niklaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikealson x reader #smut #vampire diaries #the originals #tvd #tvd smut #klaus mikaelson smut #klaus mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson smut #the originals smut #tvdu #tvd fanfiction #the vampire diaries #elena gilbert #damon salavatore #stefan salvatore #rebekah mikaelson #katherine pierce #damon salvatore smut #kol mikaelson #hope mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #vampire #hybrid #vampire smut #twilight

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request Argenti, Sunday, Sampo, and Gepard finding out their s/o made different plushies of them to cuddle?

Gepard;

This poor guy is blushing to the high heavens upon meeting his plush counterpart that bore a cute yet stoic expression.

The lil guy was no bigger than your hand.

‘There isn’t more of them is there?’ He’d ask and you smiled as you then proceeded to show him the countless others that you’ve made in your spare time.

The poor man was even more flustered than before if that was even possible to begin with. I mean you even made one where he’s holding a cute -but dead- potted plant while pouting!

Despite how flustered he may seem upon seeing himself in cute plushy form, he was really impressed with how good they came out and found the attention to detail you had amazing because it meant everything he’s ever told you was incorporated into each and every plush with love and affection.

‘I’m just curious, what made you want to make these plushies?’ He’d ask and when you told him it was to cuddle something while he was away doing his job.

He feels guilty for not spending as much time as he’d like with you because he throughly enjoys being with you and becomes visibly upset when is needed elsewhere, but he’s never been one to not uphold duty. ‘I’ll do better next time.’ He’d tell you.

You put your hands on his shoulders. ‘You already are doing better Gepard, I know how important this job is for you and I’m not going to ask you to choose between me or your job, that’s cruel of me as your partner to make you chose between two things you love with all your heart.’ You tell him as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling it grow warm under your lips.

‘But-‘

‘But nothing.’ You cut him off. ‘I’ll always be here waiting for you and bedsides,’ you lifted the plush!Gepard, smiling when you saw the blonde blush. ‘I’ll always have you close by in plush form to love on and cuddle with.’ You added cheekily as Gepard held you close and burrowed his face into your neck, cuasing you to laugh at his cuteness.

Argenti:

Is utterly in love with us plush counterpart and appraise your attention to detail made to the plush also, from his pretty eyes, cherry red hair and so forth.

Asks you if there’s more plushies that you’ve made of him while kissing your hands in thanks for their creativity and skill.

You of course said yes.

‘You have a true talent here my beloved flower,’ Argenti praises as he holds the plush of him gently in his hands. ‘This is truly magnificent.’

Your flustered at this point from all of his genuine and sincere comments. ‘Oh they aren’t that great-‘

Argenti then looks at you with wide eyes. ‘Aren’t that great? My beloved rose, your plushies are beyond great! They are beautiful in their own right.’ The cherry haired knight says as he holds your face in his hands. ‘So please don’t doubt your capabilities when they are only just beginning to shine.’

Probably Alamo cried when you tell him the reason you made plush!Argenti was so you could still have something that reminds you of him to keep you company while he was away.

Sunday:

Finds it amusing and adorable as he watched you cuddle against the plush version of himself as though your life depended on it.

‘These are truly impressive my dear.’ He’d say as he looks upon the other plushies of him that you’ve made this far, all dressed in different attires and bore different expressions with deep interest before looking back at you. ‘Is there a reason behind them all? Revisiting an old habit perhaps in crocheting?’ He adds.

‘No, not really, I just wanted to make a plush that I could cuddle with when you’re away.’ You admitted truthfully and Sunday felt his heart melt at your sweet confession as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

‘I apologise for making you miss me and I apologise for the lack of time between us but I’m glad you found a way to compensate for my absence.’ Sunday says as he boops plush Sunday on the nose. ‘Though now I’m here, I’m sure our plush friend here can be relived from his duties for the night?’ He then adds and you blink at him.

Was he…was Sunday jealous of his plush counter part? How cute was that.

‘I’m sure he can take the night off.’ You obliged and set the plushie down on your desk and you joined Sunday in bed, cuddled up and quickly lulled by his bodily warmth into a comfortable sleep.

Sampo:

Can and will show off his little plush counter part to anyone and everyone within view and would listen to him for longer then five minutes.

But imagine his surprise when he finds out that you have other variations of him, his ego skyrockets to unfathomable heights!

‘You must be super in love with me to make a plush of me! How embarrassing!’ Sampo says.

‘Sampo we’ve been dating for a while now.’ You replied with a blank face.

Anyways Sampo loved the little plushies of him and would even take one with him when you weren’t looking to send you pictures of the adventures of plushie sampo through the entire day.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to get made at him for stealing your plushie because the pictures were too cute.

Hell you might even find him cuddle up to one of them if you were carful enough.

#hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #hsr gepard x reader #hsr argenti x reader #hsr sampo x reader #hsr sunday x reader #honkai star rail #Honkai star rail imagine #Honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x reader #sampo x reader #sampo imagine #sampo imagines #argenti x reader #Argenti imagine #Argenti imagines #sunday x reader #sunday imagines #sunday imagine #gepard x reader #gepard imagine #gepard imagines

[cryptidghostgirl]

Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Y/n wakes up, her wings gone and her mind fuzzy. What will ensue? PART TWO TO MY ONE SHOT UNDERSTAND.

Link to Part One: Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

Warnings: Uh, brief mentions of bandages and pain and stuff. Toxic relationships. Kidnapping?? What you'd expect to come after part one.

Word Count: 1,500

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N you guys have been like, breaking my door down for this one.

The world spun circles around Y/n as she opened her eyes. Memories as blurry as her vision, she struggled to bring her surroundings into focus. She could tell she was in a bed but not much else. Everything was different shades of red and unfamiliar, with a window to odd dark woods in her sight.

As the room settled into focus, the first thing she realized was that the window was not in fact a window. Instead, the room simply came to a point where the walls fractured and gave way to the outside. The second thing was that she was not alone.

"There you are, darling." came a hauntingly familiar voice from beside her, "I was starting to worry."

Everything came crashing down around her as she heard his voice. In her minds eye, Y/n watched the portal close. She saw her husband soaked in blood -- in her blood -- with that far off, crazed look in his eyes.

Alastor reached out to wipe a tear that threatened to fall from her eye and Y/n violently jerked away on instinct. Pain ricocheted through her body from the movement, stemming from the middle of her back. Emanating from the place where... she couldn't bring herself to think of it.

He let his hand hang there in the air by her face for a moment before bringing it back to his side with a sigh. Y/n turned her head to the side, her cheek pressing into the cool silk of the pillow case. She watched Alastor carefully.

There hadn't really been time when they first encountered one another in that ally to take in his new appearance. He leered over her, the same constant sharp tooth smile. Y/n couldn't help but notice that there was something there in the red glow of his eyes that was the same. It was the only thing that really remained of the man she had known. Well, that and the monocle.

"How are you feeling?"

"Awful."

With painstaking effort, Y/n pulled herself into a sitting position in the corner of the bed where it met the wall. As the blankets fell from her torso, she realized she'd been wrapped in crisp white bandages.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't give you anything for the pain until you woke up. Here."

Y/n looked up from the bandages to see that Alastor was holding a few pills and a glass of water out to her. She eyed them suspiciously.

"It's just aspirin."

"And you're just my fucking kidnapper. You're just the one person I was supposed to be able to trust completely."

Alastor's eyes fell to his hands. He took a deep breath.

"Y/-"

"You know," Y/n cut him off, her eyes falling to her hands as they fiddled with the blanket pooling in her lap, "I really thought you..."

Alastor looked over at her as her words fell off into silence. There were tears pooling in her eyes again. He didn't regret what he had done. No, it had been necessary. He couldn't lose her again. None of that mattered right now, however. It still hurt, to see her in such pain and know he was the cause.

"Thought what, my dear?" he prompted after a few moments.

"It's dumb." Y/n shook her head, still refusing to meet his eyes, "I was dumb."

"Now now, you know how I feel about you talking down about yourself. It is unbecoming and untrue."

Y/n shook her head again, letting out a small, sad, laugh. The sound was nothing more than a sharp exhale through her nose, it was rueful.

"I mean it, Y/n." Alastor insisted, "Tell me what is on your mind?"

As he spoke, he reached a hand out to her. He tried to hold her hand, he wanted to comfort her but Y/n flinched away again and so, he stopped his efforts.

"I thought you wouldn't hurt me." she admitted at last, meeting his eyes once again.

An arrow through his heart.

"I really thought you... I was so dumb."

"I'm not going to apologize." Alastor sighed after a moment, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest, "I did what I had to do."

"What you had to do?" Y/n really did laugh this time, her eyes searching the room before meeting his once again, "What you had to do, Al?"

"Yes. One day, you will realize that and you will thank me for it."

"Alastor fucking Hartfelt: no."

He stilled. It wasn't the usage of his full name, no. That he was used to hearing from his wife. She had a love of calling him it, it was a privilege in her mind. The real issue was that Y/n, the prim and proper precious girl he adored so much, had cursed. The only other time he'd heard her do that was when she had learned about his mother dying. She was serious.

"No." Y/n said again, shaking her head fervently as her gaze lowered to her lap, "I... in what world would I thank you for cutting the wings off my goddamn back? In what world.... how the fuck do you think things are ever going to be okay between us again?"

His hands slowly slid from his chest, falling loosely to his lap as Y/n met his eyes once again. She looked tired, she looked heartbroken. He hadn't meant for that.

"I..." Alastor searched for the words but they both knew there were none, "I didn't know what else to do."

"I told you I was going to figure something out!"

"And what if you didn't!?" Alastor yelled back, getting to his feet, "What if someone on your end found out and you got killed, for real killed."

He slammed his hands on the bed, leaning over Y/n who trembled slightly, her eyes wide.

"I did what I had to do." Alastor sighed, the anger falling from him as quickly as it had arrived, "Just... please. Please, Y/n. I couldn't lose you again."

Y/n's heart hurt. He was begging her. He had hurt her so much but, had the reasons really been that bad?

She knew he was right. With her plan, she would have most likely ended up dead or worse, with Adam forcing her to kill Alastor, or forcing her to try to at least.

He was begging her. He was begging her and even after what he had done, she loved him. Even after the violence, the pain, discovering his new nature, she loved him and was elated to be in his presence once again. Y/n wanted to scream, she wanted to cry. More than anything, she wanted to close her eyes and open them again to find it had all been a dream, open them to their sweet little house in the garden district -- alive.

"Please." Alastor said again, sinking to his knees as if in prayer, "Please, Y/n. I don't expect you to forgive me right away just try to understand where I'm coming from."

She watched him, his head in his hands, his eyes on the mattress. Y/n was angry. Because he was right, because she still wanted to scream, because god she just wanted him to hold her. Even knowing that he was the source of the pain, all she wanted was for him to hold her and make it all better. Because that was what Alastor did, what he had always done. He made things okay.

Life was easier with Alastor, life was lovely. Memories overtook Y/n, over took her reason and her anger and her fear. Tentatively, she reached a hand out and placed it on Alastor's head. He looked up at her, ears swiveling. Still smiling.

"Can you do anything else? Can you only smile?"

He hesitated a moment before shaking his head no and Y/n sighed.

"I..." Y/n trailed off, sighing once again.

She felt caught, trapped. Even if she wanted to go back to the hell of life as an exorcist, she couldn't. Options were limited: Alastor or alone. Y/n didn't think she wanted to be alone. Not now, not here, not like this.

"Can I have a hug?"

The question was small, her voice trembled. Alastor's eyes lit up. With a practiced grace, a practiced giving of space and time, he stood and sat down on the bed beside her. She fell into his chest, clutching his jacket as he wrapped his arms around her, careful to avoid the fresh wounds he had inflicted.

Y/n began to sob. Big heavy breaths, big wet tears soaking through his suit into his skin.

"It will all be okay." Alastor cooed, rubbing her shoulder gently, "It will all be okay."

And the worst part was, she beleived him. His words made her feel better. And the worst part was, Y/n began to smile.

----

A/N I looked up his last name and this is what the wiki said. Please don't be mad at me.

Tags:

@trashbin-nie @themoonitselff @lululucii @asianfrustration13 @sphynxtheweeb @nenerobobot @bumblebeebluebell @ast-jime @otherthoughtsofbu @sanemiswifeyxo1 @messyserver @rainyvandragon @xxwerefangxx @campgarbage @alexdelray1 @ellie-x0xo

#x reader #fic writer #x reader fics #x reader one shot #x reader writer #alastor #fanfic #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel fanfiction #angst #x reader angst #yandere x reader #yandere #dark!fic #dark!Alastor #dark #x reader fanfiction #x reader fanfic #x you #yandere x you

[cherrychilli]

18+

Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, established relationship, lingerie, allusions to oral sex(F), PIV sex

a/n: I'm no seamstress by any means but I can do a decent enough job with a needle and thread and I love making my own lingerie from time to time so it got me thinking about dear sweet horny Eddie and what it might be like when you let him in on your little hobby.

You'd first told him about it a few months into your relationship, on a day when a press of his lips to the corner of your mouth had turned into open mouthed kisses, his tongue wrapped around yours. Eddie had pulled you closer to feel more of you then, settling you in his lap, pushing your skirt up to find the black, hand sewn lacy garters circling the thickness of your thighs, made dainty and pretty with ruching and bows.

He doesn't even know what they're called – all he knows is that he likes them, a lot and he tells you so between kisses, tracing the soft fabric with his fingers, pinching the delicate lace with a low whistle. He slips in a corny but sweet line about how it makes your thighs look like they've been giftwrapped just for him and that gets a giggle out of you, telling him you made them yourself.

"You serious?", he looks up at you, amazement shining bright in his deep mahogany eyes even when you try to downplay it, telling him it's not that hard. But your modesty does nothing to stop him from thinking you're the most talented person he's ever met and he reminds you of that mixed in with more praise when you change positions and he's down on his knees, slipping his fingers under each garter while he fits his head between your legs.

"Turning up in a pretty little outfit like this? that's begging to have my tongue on you, baby. You shoulda known that", he tuts against your clothed mound, licking a broad stripe up your panties, tasting the wetness that had gathered there on the black cotton.

He only pulled out the stitching on one garter that day – unintentional of course but unavoidable too given how tightly he had to hold you down in place as you writhed. It didn't trouble you though because it was nothing you couldn't mend with your needle and some thread back at home.

From then on, whenever you feel inspired to tackle a new design he's all sorts of encouraging, driving you and accompanying you to get all the things you need – all of the sewing supplies; fabric, thread, lace, ribbon, elastic and more. He helps you decide on which colors to get and he makes the gesture of paying for it all too, wanting to spoil you. Not to mention it's kind of like he's buying himself a present too, knowing you'll model the undergarments for him when you're done.

The most you let him help with after that is taking your measurements, letting him wrap the measuring tape around your hips and bust while you guide him on how to do it correctly but what that leads to is a lot of wandering touches and a few sneaky pinches on your ass, having to playfully swat his hands away if you hope to get anything done.

Eddie backs down with a little whine but all the faux pouting's just for show. He finds space on your bed while you look up DIY tutorials online at your desk before you get down to sewing, all of your supplies laid out neatly by your side, ready to be used.

While you're busy he spends his time strumming away on his guitar, pencil tucked behind his ear as he brainstorms lyrics for a new song. Both of you liked working on your own projects this way, in the same room because you appreciate having each other's company and presence to surround yourself with while you create.

Though Eddie had promised not to look too much he struggles to uphold that promise as he sneaks peaks at you cutting out patterns for a matching lace bra and panty set. He adores the cute way your brows scrunch together in concentration when you thread your needle and how you sometimes mirror him with your tongue pinched between your lips while you meticulously stitch all the individual cut outs together.

Somewhere between the time it takes you to get the panties finished and the bra started he approaches you, one hand clamped over his eyes so he can't see your progress – he knows how much you want to surprise him with the final result. Held out in the other is a mug of that tea you like, having made a quick trip to your kitchen and back, a bag of potato chips cradled in the crook of his elbow for you too.

You thank him and gladly take the offerings, cheeks growing warm when he plants a quick kiss on the top of your head. "Don't overwork yourself", he coos into your hair, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before he heads back to your bed and picks up his guitar again.

The tune Eddie's playing carries you through the rest of your stitching and close to an hour later you swivel your desk chair around in his direction. "I'm done", you announce with a sunny smile and he grins back at you, fingers abandoning his guitar. "You gonna get changed right now?" he asks hopefully, eyes twinkling.

"Yup", you answer him, popping the 'P' with a little wink. You gather the set in your arms, stepping into the bathroom. "Wait here, I wanna do a reveal", you tell him before closing the door, all giddy with girlish excitement, proud of how the it all came out.

The wait isn't long but every second that passes has Eddie feeling like his head's full of fireworks, finding it impossible to remain still, fingers drumming on his knees, legs hung over the side of your bed, socked feet tapping away on your carpeted floor.

You don't announce yourself once you've changed, unlocking the bathroom door and letting it swing open as you lean against the doorframe, letting your boyfriend take in your newest creation.

You know you've succeeded when his lips part, jaw going slack and his eyes going wide to rake over every inch of you, stunned.

He makes grabby hands at you and its somehow made cuter given his age so you step forward to let him get a closer look, occupying the space between his spread legs, letting him place his warm hands on the bare skin of your waist.

It's always a rare moment when Eddie goes silent, words escaping him as he quietly admires the way the material wraps around your proportions perfectly and the the cheeky cut of your panties as you do a little spin for him, the front a soft lilac satin, the back a matching shade of lace to reveal your ass through the floral embroidery.

The bra is simple – nothing too elaborate like some of the designs you'd scrolled through but it compliments the underwear well. The straps are thin and rest comfortably on your shoulders, the rest sewn in a longline style. It's sheer with the same floral lace as your panties so your nipples show through, your breasts supported well even without padding or underwire for extra softness, all with a tiny, pretty ribbon bow stitched right in the middle to match the one on the front of your panties too.

"You're so fucking beautiful", me utters, pulling you closer to kiss you right above your belly button, making your chest flutter with a thousand beating wings, a hurricane of butterflies taking flight just beneath your skin.

You let him lay you down on the bed and he's far more gentle than he needs to be when he slips your panties to the side, not wanting to stretch or snag the lace and ruin all your hard work. Your belly feels warm like sunlight spilling through your window in the morning because he's so careful with the pretty underwear while he runs a finger through your wet folds, making you feel like something as delicate as porcelain, something to touched with care and worshiped. It makes you hunger for more, pulling him closer by his shoulders.

"Wanna feel you inside", you place your lips on his, hands helping him to unbuckle his belt as he leans over you. You pull not so gently at his clothing, a big contrast to how he's handling you, tossing each article to the side impatiently while you remain in your cute little ensemble. You wouldn't be ridding yourself of your underwear tonight and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Can't believe I've got the prettiest doll in town all to myself", Eddie huffs a breath against the column of your neck at the same moment you suck one in, pressing his cock inside you, so thick and hard it makes the stretch that much better.

"And she's all dressed up just for me"

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things smut #stranger things #eddie munson x reader

[declareqenius]

stitched up

warnings: blood, stitches

summary: you were sent on a mission with your father, tony stark, but something went wrong with the new prototype, resulting in you being injured. wanda needs the closeness and the confirmation that you’re right in front of her, but natasha’s emotions nearly get the better of her. 

a/n: this is not how i wanted to end this originally, but i’m having some writer’s block and just wanted to post something again. i may do a part two but it depends on if y’all would like to see a part two or not! 

“If your arm wasn’t bleeding this much, and if my mind and heart didn’t ache every time I glanced away from you, your father would be hanging from the ceiling by his ankles.” 

Of course, leave it to your girlfriend to say something so poetic, yet so vulgar, in a semi-serious situation. 

Wanda’s arms are crossed as she worriedly checks over the rest of your body, trying to keep herself from peeking at the gushing blood coming from your shoulder. The only thing that holds her back from storming down the hallway in search of your father is her need to see that you’re going to be okay. Meaning she has to sit there and watch on as Bruce slowly stitches the gash shut.

“We both know you would do so much worse than that, Wands.” You try to mask your slight wince with a cheeky grin, but of course your girlfriend notices. 

“You’re right. I think I’ll let Natasha have her fun first.” She makes it sound like a joke, however you both know it’s far from such a thing.

Wanda’s eyebrows are still tightly furrowed together, her eyes constantly checking over you as if the second she looks away some new injury will magically appear. Even though you’re the one covered in blood with the stitching needle in their arm, you can’t help but want to comfort her. 

“Hey, love,” you gently place your first finger under her chin and guide her head until her eyes meet yours, “I’m alright. It’s okay.” 

She searches deeply within your eyes, and it’s a miracle you maintain eye contact with her. The sheer build up of love, worry, and warmth you find within her soft green irises takes you aback.

“It shouldn’t have happened.” 

She says it so firmly. The sentence is so contradictory to the emotions she showed you seconds ago. The feelings she only allows you and Natasha- your other, probably furious, redheaded girlfriend- to read and memorize, to know like the back of your hands. 

Her Sokovian accent is thick, which only happens when she’s scared, angry, or safe. And, right now with Bruce in the room, you know it’s a combination of the first two. 

“You’re right, as always,” you give her a smile, which she mirrors, and you stow the memory away as a small victory. “But it did happen. And there’s nothing we can do about it now except let Bruce stitch me up, okay? I’ll be good as new afterwards. Right, Bruce?” 

Your eyes don’t leave Wanda’s because you know looking at Bruce will somehow make the stitching process hurt more. 

The man only gives a nod and soft grunt of approval. 

“See? Nothing to worry about, my dear.” 

“Nothing to worry about, huh?” 

A calloused voice cuts through the room. You’re the first to snap your head up and break the heartfelt moment with Wanda. The quick movement causes Bruce to tug the stitches more than intended, and you close your eyes and take in a slow, deep breath. The soft hand soothingly running along your uninjured arm is the only thing keeping you completely grounded at the moment.

“Cause from where I’m standing, detka, it looks like something we should be worried about.” 

Once you open your eyes again, they immediately fall upon Natasha, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and undoubtedly pissed off. 

You’re aware her anger isn’t directed at you. You know _why _she’s pissed. Your emotions would most definitely get the better of you if either one of your girlfriends was injured and you couldn’t do anything to prevent it. It would be worse if you could have prevented it.

The certainty of your words and relaying the facts to her wouldn’t calm her down, but you know there’s no calming her down on your part. Not when you’re sitting on a stool injured and had to be carried to the med bay so you wouldn’t bleed to death.

“HYDRA got the jump on us, Nat. We weren’t expecting it and there was nothing that could have been done to ensure our safety. You know that. We had the Iron Man suit and the counteract prototype with us, and that’s it. Dad decided to use the prototype because it was all we had. It malfunctioned and I didn’t have enough time to move out of the way after the HYDRA agent pushed me towards it.” 

You’re clear with all of your words and your voice never wavers, nor does your eye contact. Natasha may be the Black Widow, and only a very select group of people could ever talk to her the matter-of-fact way you just did, but sometimes she needs a reminder that things happen no matter how much one tries to prevent them. 

“He could have kept you safe. That should have been his priority. You’re his daughter, Y/N. That’s way more important than barging into an intel mission unprepared! With only a prototype, no less. Especially when it puts your life in danger!” 

The two of you hold eye contact with each other for a few seconds until you glance away and focus on watching Bruce finalize his stitch-work. Watching the needle thread through your skin makes the pain undeniably worse, but you can’t seem to force yourself to look at your girlfriends. 

You don’t see the guilt-ridden regret that crosses Natasha’s features before she looks at the floor beneath her.

Tony wasn’t unprepared for the mission. Neither were you. Both of you surveyed the perimeter twice. Both of you were careful at every corner you turned. HYDRA just happened to outsmart two of the smartest people in the world.

Minutes later and Bruce finishes stitching your left shoulder up. Natasha stands at the door impatiently and Wanda watches her but still makes sure to have some physical contact with you. 

“Alright,” Bruce stands from his chair, “twenty-five stitches. No major physical activity for the next two weeks. That includes missions, working out, and... I don’t have to say it. Let’s give the wound time to heal itself, okay?” 

You nod and thank him before he takes his leave, passing by a very guilty, annoyed Natasha.

“Natalia, podoydi syuda, pozhaluysta.” 

Wanda is the first to speak once Bruce leaves, and you’re grateful she took the initiative. Neither of them like seeing you hurt since both have lost so much in their short lives, but Natasha eats herself up over your injuries. She always thinks she’d be able to do something to prevent them, especially in the field. Wanda’s reactions are slightly more reasonable, but her worry gets the best of her and she often needs physical contact to remind herself you’re still there. 

Natasha begrudgingly takes a seat next to Wanda, who immediately holds out her hand to give the former assassin the option of physical contact. Your shorter girlfriend hesitates before she gently take Wanda’s left hand in her right but makes no move to touch you or glance in your direction. 

The chairs they sit in are lower than your stool, and part of you finds it funny that you’re the one that’s been placed in that position. 

“Moglo byt’ gorazdo khuzhe,” Natasha mutters, staring at her boots and focusing on the way Wanda’s thumb rubs back and forth along the back of her hand.

It could have been much worse.

“Odnako eto bylo ne tak. Ona vse yeshche zdes', i my nuzhny yey pryamo seychas.”

It wasn’t, though. She’s still here and she needs both of us right now.

Wanda’s voice is soothing as she softly speaks to Natasha. 

You let them have their moment and offer the Sokovian a small smile when she sends a gentle wink your way. 

Both know you don’t understand the conversation. You’ve picked up some basic Russian, words or phrases they say a lot, but when they get into full conversations and larger sentences, all you can do is either pretend you’re busy or sit and watch their facial expressions to gauge the nature of the conversation.

They speak a minute longer and Natasha starts relaxing. Her furrowed brows even out, her drawn lips ease into a relaxed expression, and her eyes- although still holding an ounce of anger- start to glisten. She finds the need within herself to look at you, check you over for any other injuries- although Wanda has done that several times over- and finally, search your beautiful eyes with her own. 

“Nat-” 

You move to speak, wanting to voice your concerns and reassure both of them you’re okay even though they can see you sitting here in front of them. However, Natasha stands from her seat and takes a step over to you. She keeps her eye contact with you and gently, with a slight nod of confirmation from you, she slots herself between your legs. Her hand comes up to your cheek and she notices a small bruise forming above your eyebrow. It makes her eyes water a little more. 

“I’m sorry, muy lyubov. You’re injured and I’ve been acting like a dick. I won’t apologize for wanting to keep you safe, or wanting to make Tony pay for his lack of common sense, but I will apologize for directing my anger toward you. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry, detka.” 

“It’s okay, Nat. I forgive you. I understand why you were so angry, I mean, I would be too if you or Wands were in my position. So, I get it, but next time I need you to try and talk to me, okay?” 

Natasha nods her confirmation, and you know from the look in her eyes that she’s determined to work on her communication with both you and Wanda. 

“Thank you, my love.” 

Sometimes you all understand each other in different ways and need each other for different things, but in the end, the three of you fit together like nothing anyone has ever seen. The journey has been long and will continue to be, but none of you would have it any other way. 

Natasha’s eyes are still teary, and you can’t help but tilt your head up just enough to catch her lips in a slow, soft kiss. Enough to remind her that she’s forgiven and that you’re not going anywhere. You break apart after a few moments and see Nat’s small smile. It could be better, but you’ll take it for now. However, you notice Wanda getting impatient after having watched you kiss Natasha. 

You look over at Wanda with a grin on your face, “Anything you’d like to say, Wands?” 

“My turn.” 

Wanda gets up from her chair and stands to the left of Natasha. She gently cups your left cheek with her right hand and kisses you much like you did Natasha, except with more fervor- as if she could express gratitude for your life through a kiss. When she pulls away there’s a smile on both of your faces, and her eyes have replaced worry and anger with unconditional love. 

It never ceases to amaze you how willingly and openly your girlfriends give themselves to you. 

#wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #they're here #i'm trying to get back into writing please go easy on me

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐖𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧’, 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧’

It was only meant to be a visit — to get to know them better, learn of their dynamic and learn just how you would fit in. They, however, had other ideas.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ༄ Fireman!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Fireman!Steve Rogers

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ༄ 5.2k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ༄ Fluff, aftercare ჻჻჻ SMUT: Oral (F + M receiving), fingering, protected piv, mutiple orgasms, denied orgasm, dom/sub/switch dynamics ჻჻჻ KINKS: Dirty talk, praise, voyeurism, exhibitionism, degredation, dumbification, objectification

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ༄ Look at those warnings, huh? Yeah, have fun folks. ✌ ༄ A very special thank you to my love, @duckybarnes1917's for your help and encouragement when I pitched this idea to you.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ༄ Eat Your Young by Hozier

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ༄ @sgt-seabass

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ༄ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟰 — First Responder AU — Masterlist

𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been only a few days since that encounter at the station. 

Embers had settled like lead weights in your stomach, lighting up your nerves with a mere spark – more often than not it was their text tone, or the sound of their honeyed voices on a call that was the culprit and soul cause, and the bastards knew it, too.

Very little deliberation was needed to come to your decision. An inane part of you, perhaps closer to the surface than you cared to admit, nor acknowledge, wanted this. You wanted to be a part of what they were, you wanted to feel the warmth of the love they could give, and… many other things. 

Before that thought could dig its claws too deep, the open roller doors of the station came into view, and you took a deep breath as you walked up the driveway. Steve and Bucky had asked you to pop in for a visit, and they had offered to take you home when their shift ended – naturally, you had been apprehensive about just whose home you’d be returning to. 

“There she is!” Steve called, making his way down the driveway with Bucky peeking around the doorway with a bright smile. “Hey there, sweetheart,” Steve said, glancing you up and down – and the action didn’t leave your skin crawling as you had felt all too many times before with other men, rather, you felt shy. “How’re you doing?”

“Good– I’m good, Stevie,” you replied, happily accepting his hug. 

“Hey! Nuh-uh,” Bucky rushed, jogging over, a full pout on his lips. “My turn.” Steve laughed and let you go, only for you to be swept into Bucky’s arms and off your feet. “She’s mine now, punk,” Bucky called, carrying you as he stalked into the station, ignorant of your breathless laugh and pleas to be let down. “Shouldn’t have let her go.”

“Let me down, Buck,” you laughed, hitting his shoulder with your hand and holding around the back of his neck for dear life with the other. “Please!”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky soothed, and he set you gently down on your feet. “There you go. Now, we’re cutting our shift short because Nat and Peter were gracious enough to come in an hour early.”

“Bless ‘em,” Steve cut in. “So, we can head home, decompress and relax, y’know.” The not-so-subtle wink and sly smirk gracing Steve’s handsome features only caused the inferno to ignite. 

Before you could reply, Bucky shoved him towards the locker room. “Get a move on then.”

Steve left with a salute and that left Bucky and you standing beside a parked fire truck. You went to open your mouth to speak, but a quiet yipping noise stalled the cogs in your mind, and you stared at Bucky with wide eyes. “Was that a dog?”

The sheepish shrug and shy smile that grew on his lips made him look so much younger – a boy caught red handed with his hand in the cookie jar. “Yeah… surprise?”

“You have a dog?”

Bucky went to open his mouth when the door leading to the office opened abruptly, and Peter appeared. “Oh, hey! It’s good to see you- whoa!”

You watched in awe as Peter stumbled, pushed to the side by two fast blurs darting out from behind his feet. They were small, but fast and over excited, the exact embodiment of what a puppy–puppies, would be. “You have puppies!”

“Yeah, yeah- Captain, no! Sit,” Bucky commanded, and you watched as the most excited of the two fell back from scrambling up your knees to his back legs in a perfect, fluid movement. You crouched down to be level with the two black and white – Dalmatian – puppies, cooing at them quietly. The smaller and calmer of the two stared up at you through bright blue eyes curiously, a slight tilt to their head.

“Who are these precious babies?” You asked, offering a hand to them so they could sniff. “They’re adorable.”

Bucky groaned as he kneeled down. “‘M gettin’ too old for this shit,” he joked, and you chuckled.

“You’re ageing like a fine wine, Buck,” you replied before you thought better of it, and your eyes widened. Shit, you silently cursed. 

“Why thank you, honey,” Bucky purred. Fuck. “Anyway,” he continued, pointing at the larger of the two puppies. “This is Captain, he’s Stevie’s boy.” You cooed at Captain and he whined quietly, wiggling with excitement. “And this,” Bucky pointed at the smaller puppy, a soft smile on his lips and eyes bright with love, “is Cleo. She’s my little girl.”

“I love them so much,” you gushed, not realising how Bucky’s gaze that held so much adoration and softness for his little Cleo, to you. “How old are they?”

“Old enough to be terrors,” Steve said above you and you jumped. “We goin’ home?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, getting to his feet with a huff. “You ready, doll?”

You nodded and scratched behind Captain and Cleo’s ears. “Do they stay here, or-”

“No,” Steve laughed, smiling fondly down at the two puppies. “C’mon guys, home time.” Like a scene from a Disney movie, the two bounding balls of energy ran after Steve as he walked out of the station, presumably towards their car. 

The jingling of keys pulled you from the sight of Steve’s broad back and you looked over at Bucky to see him already staring at you, a brow raised and an arrogant smirk plastered on his lips. “Quit ooglin’ my husband, honey,” he said, his voice low. “A fella might get the idea you want him more.”

You had the sense to roll your eyes at his dramatic ways, and he laughed as he slung an arm over your shoulder. His grin was contagious and you couldn’t help but mimic it as he walked you out the door, pointing the set of keys to a huge pick-up truck. “Let’s go home, hey?”

The drive home was sat in comfortable silence, interrupted by bouts of banter and the barking yips of overexcited puppies. Before long, Bucky pulled the truck into the driveway of a modest home reminiscent of a brownstone flat – the yard was small but tidy, and there was a two-car garage attached to the side. 

“Alright,” Steve said around a yawn. The puppies in his lap shifted and whined restlessly. “Welcome to our humble abode, sweetheart.”

“It’s gorgeous.” 

Bucky made a small noise of contentment and slid out the driver's seat, while you shifted and followed Steve off the bench seat and out the passenger door. The puppies ran onto the yard and jumped over one another, making you giggle at their antics. 

You could hear Bucky moving around the front of the truck and you went to look over your shoulder at him, only to jump and gasp in fright as Steve’s hand – callused and warm, grabbed your own and threaded his fingers through yours. “Easy, sweetheart,” Steve cooed, tightening his grip. “C’mon, come inside.”

With little choice, but with no hesitation, you followed Steve as he followed Bucky to the front door of their home. “Captain, Cleo– here,” Bucky called, and the two puppies ran between the gaps and through the doorway. “Bring our girl in, punk,” Bucky goaded, watching Steve as he stood in the doorway, still holding your hand and staring at you with an unreadable expression – Bucky’s voice seemed to wake him from his trance and he pulled you inside. 

The fact that Bucky moved to stand right behind you as soon as you walked through the threshold of their home, sent a chill of something up your spine and that pit of embers to become a sparking heap again. 

“D’you want something to drink, darlin’?” Steve asked. The endearment made your eyes widen only slightly and you recovered just in time to ask for some water – just. 

Captain and Cleo moved to settle on a giant dog bed in the living room beside the open doorway, and Bucky put a hand on your lower back, urging you forward into the cosy room and towards a couch. “Make yourself at home.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, taking a seat between three giant pillows. Opting for comfort in this new environment and in the presence of these two Gods among men, you grabbed one and leant it on your knees, hugging it to your chest. 

You watched as Bucky toed off his boots and slipped the suspenders off his shoulders, only he caught you staring and he smirked. “You’re so adorable, honey,” Bucky cooed and you felt hot, the cinders in your stomach igniting into a dull roar. “‘M gonna go get changed, Stevie will be with you in just a second, alright?”

As if Bucky had summoned him, Steve appeared around the corner, wearing sweats and a white tank top with a glass of water in one hand, a mug filled with a steaming liquid in the other. Steve and Bucky smiled at one another, and you watched with your mouth slightly agape as Bucky cupped the back of Steve’s neck roughly and pulled him into a kiss – holy fucking shit, you cursed. 

The visual was burnt into your eyelids and you took a deep breath just as they pulled apart, and Bucky departed – though not before he smacked Steve on the ass, the latter only rolling his eyes in response. 

“Here you go,” Steve said, offering you the glass of water before falling onto the couch next to you. He groaned loudly and threw his head back over the back of the couch and shuffled his legs so his thighs were spread, and you couldn’t resist the urge to stare at the way his muscles moved and pulled taut to show off that damned jawline. “You stare any longer, sweetheart, and I won’t be able to control myself.”

Dammit, you swore. So much for subtlety. 

More to distract yourself, you took a gulp of water and placed the cup down on a coaster on the coffee table. A low huff and whine came from the dog bed next to the couch and you looked over to see Cleo already staring at you sleepily. “Such an adorable baby girl,” you cooed.

“Nope, that’s you, honey,” Bucky said suddenly and you almost squeaked – thankfully you killed the noise in your throat before you could embarrass yourself further. “I know we talk every day at this point,” he continued, flopping down on your other side, and tucking his knee up under his other thigh so he could face you. “But how are you–how have you been feeling?”

It was difficult to discern just what he was asking – was he asking about how you felt about them? About the risque and teasing texts and calls you had more often than not initiated? 

“Don’t stress that pretty head of yours, honey, I meant exactly what I asked,” Bucky said quietly, and you felt Steve shift next to you, his interest obviously piqued. “How are you doing? Work, all that shit.”

“Oh,” you breathed, relieved. “I’ve been good, work has been busy–but I’ve been good.”

“We know,” Steve purred, his breath suddenly very hot against your neck. “Because you’re our good girl, aren’t you?”

You blanched. “What the-”

Their laughter broke the tension – deep belly laughs and wide grins, though when you looked at Steve, his grin had something else teasing, wolfish, and you found you liked it. 

“I would say I’m sorry,” Steve tried, grinning and flicking his gaze between Bucky and your deer-in-headlights-esque shock. “But I’m really not.”

“You fuckin’ menace, Stevie,” Bucky chuckled. “Leave ‘er alone!”

“What the hell was that?” You demanded, a grin teasing your own lips. In no way were you mad, though you were shocked with the visceral reaction to those simple words had on you – you knew you liked it, but that much?

You were doomed. 

“Nothin’, nothin’,” Steve sighed, still grinning, though he eyed you like a wolf who had cornered his prey. The air became thin and you felt Bucky shifting closer – the tension in the room crescendoed and your breath hitched as they fell silent, the heat of their combined gazes almost too much to bear. 

“Sweetheart,” Steve started, his voice low, tentative; an unspoken hesitance. “We brought you home to get to know you, and we are going to get to know you, just as you would get to know us, but,” he leant forward and time stopped – Steve was in your space, unyielding and determined to be heard. “Do you want this?”

“This?” You echoed breathlessly, only to end on a gasp when Bucky’s hand moved to your neck – no pressure exerted, no sense of danger, but a promise and an intention that stole your breath completely. You could feel Bucky’s thumb brushing soothingly against the side of your neck, but it only sent your head spinning.

Damn him for listening when you let slip you had enjoyed the thought of his or Steve’s hand around your throat. 

“Listen to Stevie, honey,” Bucky said, his tone firm and insistent. 

“You call the shots here,” Steve continued, though his gaze flickered from Bucky’s hand to your face. “But, to be honest, I want this–so does Buck, don’t you?”

“More than you can imagine,” Bucky growled. “What d’you say, doll?”

Blood pounded in your ears and you gulped, the movement against his hand made Bucky exhale heavily. “Yeah–Yeah I want this, I want it-”

“You tell us to stop if you need us to,” Steve commanded, watching only you and you met his gaze. “Understood?”

“Understood,” you answered.

The wolves pounced. Bucky tightened his grip on the sides of your neck while his other hand went to your hair, gripping it and pulling gently so your face was tilted up, where Steve claimed your mouth – his kiss was surprisingly soft, gentle from what you had expected. 

“Bedroom, now,” Bucky rasped, and Steve pulled back, running his thumb along your bottom lip. 

“Fuck,” Steve growled, his voice just as raspy as Bucky’s – like your admission and want for this had turned them feral. They pulled you to your feet and you gasped with the rush. “Jump, darlin’,” Steve demanded, and hazy as you felt, you did as you were told; only for the ground to become suddenly very far away. “Atta girl.”

Steve was carrying you – he was carrying you, and Bucky’s hand was insistently groping at Steve’s ass as he carried you down a hallway. “How are you-”

“Firefighter, honey,” Bucky drawled while he kicked the bedroom door shut with his foot. Steve placed you gently down on the bed and stood up, and when Steve moved to shuck down his sweats, Bucky whined, his hands flying forward and gripping Steve’s shoulders and pulling him into a heated kiss – teeth and tongue clashing like they were going to consume one another. 

Bucky pulled back only far enough to pull down Steve’s sweats, boxers included. “Mine, don’t do my job, Stevie- Fuck,” Bucky breathed, rushing to literally tear at Steve’s tank top with ease.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, and the two turned their heads to look at you – Steve’s expression heightened with a smug smirk, while Bucky looked at you through hooded eyes and a wolfish grin. 

“She’s pretty, ain’t she, Stevie?” Bucky said through his teeth, his gaze flashing dangerously. “I wan’ her.”

“Go to her, baby,” Steve ordered. The tone sent your stomach into a fit and the inferno spread like wildfire through your every last nerve – the intensity sending a rush of vertigo and you found yourself reaching out, desperate to touch. “Go on, you don’t stop until she comes, understood?”

Heaven above, you wondered if you could come alone from those words. 

“C’mere,” Bucky said, pulling you to your feet. With just as much ease as he had torn–undressed Steve, Bucky left you standing bare for only a solitary second before he pulled you onto the bed with a low, rumbling growl. The pillows were soft under your head and you sighed happily as Bucky settled his boxer-clad hips between your spread thighs. “You alright, honey?”

“I’m great,” you grinned, and Bucky laughed before he surged forward, marking the column of your throat with expert precision until your eyes fluttered closed. “Bucky, please-”

“Please what, sweetheart?” Steve asked, hovering by the head of the bed before he reached over and fisted Bucky’s hair, pulling back harshly. The moan that left Bucky’s lips made your breath stutter. “What do you want? Tell us.”

Bucky moved and tilted his head down, and whether it was a help or a hindrance, his clothed cock rubbed insistently against your clit and you moaned. “Be a good girl for us, honey,” he whispered, and he dropped to his elbows, caging you against him. 

“Please, please, I- I need to-”

“You want to come, is that it, darlin’?” Steve pondered. His gaze suddenly pinned Bucky in place, a realisation behind his flickered aggression. “Buck, baby, you didn’t do as you were told.”

Bucky froze before he lowered his head against your neck, mouthing at it while moving his hips against your heat torturously slow. “‘M gettin’ to it, Stevie,” he replied, his breath hot against your neck and suddenly, he started sucking in earnest – the sharp, intense feeling forcing a choked moan from you. 

“Get to it faster, then,” Steve admonished. You could sense the eye roll Bucky hid by the curtain of his hair, but he still moved down your body, mouthing at your skin and leaving a trail of heat that culminated between your hips – unbearably so. 

You watched, your breath hitching, while Bucky moved your legs either side of his head so your thighs rested on his broad, muscled, and tattooed shoulders. “Oh, god-” You tried, only for your breath to stutter and falter at the first broad lick of Bucky’s tongue against your clit. “Fuck!”

“Go on, baby,” Steve muttered, watching Bucky as he nestled closer. “Fuck her with your tongue.”

The feeling was indescribable – the pull of Bucky’s mouth and the warmth and pressure of his tongue insistently drawing patterns just as pretty as his tattoos on your clit, only to stop and move his tongue down, paying attention to your weeping cunt. You couldn’t hear his groans and moans over the roaring in your ears, though you were grounded by the soft brush of Steve’s fingers down your neck and over your shoulder. 

It was short lived. 

As Bucky forced his tongue to do as Steve had ordered, Steve lowered his head to suckle at a breast, his hand coming to cup your other breast and flick the hardened nub until you whimpered. 

The bed began to squeak and rock and you lifted your head to see Bucky’s hips thrusting desperately against the edge. “Baby, no, you come when she does,” Steve cut in, his tone snappish and commanding. You could have sworn you felt Bucky’s whine through your entire body with how he had sucked your clit into his mouth. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Steve purred, turning to look at you. A harsh suck from Bucky forced a hiccuped moan from your lips and you whined, fisting your hands in Bucky’s hair. “He’s makin’ you feel good, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, oh, fuck- Ah!”

“Oh, sweetheart, lookatchu,” Steve continued, ignorant of your heaving breaths and inability to hear nor compute a damn thing except for the fact Bucky was swirling and suckling at your clit like a man starved. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

“Bucky! Oh, fuck- Fuck!” You cried, startling at the feeling of Bucky’s fingers burying themselves deep in your cunt. “Please!”

Your pleading only spurred Bucky on, and you watched through blurred vision as Steve grinned wickedly, his gaze focused on Bucky's head shaking side to side. “You’re fuckin’ her real good, baby,” Steve breathed, and his gaze snapped towards your pleading expression. “Oh, you’re close, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah!” You cried. “Steve, Steve please-”

“Bucky, baby,” Steve said, still looking at you and you did your best to stare back, to hold his gaze. “Be a good boy for me and make her come, she wants to be your good girl.” 

Fire burst through every nerve and your back arched to the ceiling, your mouth opened in a silent scream, and Bucky still did not stop. “That’s it, good girl, there’s a good girl- Fuck,” Steve breathed. Waves and waves of sensations crashed against you, pulling you under, with every brush of Bucky’s fingers and tongue and every suck of his lips. He followed you as you writhed on the bed, drawing out every last second of your climax. 

Bucky finally pulled back from between your thighs for breath, his chest heaving while your slick covered his lips and chin. The impish grin that split his face made you twitch and whine breathlessly, though it didn’t deter him from launching up onto the bed to claim your lips in a heated kiss. 

“Baby,” Steve rushed, pulling Bucky off you and ignoring his grunt of protest. “Lie back, baby, I want your dick in my mouth.”

The promise made Bucky move almost comically quick and he rested his back against the bed head, thighs spread. “Catch your breath, honey,” Bucky whispered as Steve moved to settle between Bucky’s thighs. “We’re not done with you.”

You watched in daze as Steve pulled Bucky’s boxers down, and you revelled in the groan of pleasure that escaped Bucky as Steve swallowed him to the hilt with no preamble. “Stevie, fuck,” Bucky gasped, fisting Steve’s blond hair and holding him in place. “‘M not gonna last long, baby, fuck.”

A rush of energy pulsed through you and you got to your knees, wobbling only slightly. Bucky watched you through hooded eyes, reaching a hand out and you took it, falling against his side and pulling him into a heated kiss – swallowing his moans and cries. You hissed against his lips as his hand wandered down your back to cup and grope at the globes of your ass – his hands rough but warm. 

Bucky’s hips jerked up violently and he cried out, his stomach flexing and you watched in awe as Steve worked faster. “Baby, ‘m gonna come, don’t you dare stop- Fuck!”

“Bucky,” you simpered and his gaze snapped to you – his once bright eyes blackened and eclipsed, so fucking far gone, you mused silently. “Come for me, handsome, c’mon.”

The loud shout that echoed off the walls made you grin dazedly, triumphant at wrecking the man before you like he did you. You watched as Bucky twitched and moaned, writhing weakly against Steve’s incessant sucking, his cheeks still hollowed. “Stevie- please, I can’t,” Bucky gasped, sagging in relief when Steve finally pulled off, grinning that same wicked smile. 

That same smile he turned on you. “My turn.”

“Wha-” You tried, though your attempt at being coherent was marred by the fact Bucky had manhandled you into his lap, locking you in place by trapping your arms by your sides and forcing your legs open and keeping them there with his feet. The heat billowing from Bucky burned against your skin, and you wriggled, whining from the feel of his still hard cock resting against your lower back.

“Shh, honey,” Bucky cooed, resting his chin against your shoulder. Despite the rush you found your breathing slowing at his soothing tone. “I’ve gotchu, and Stevie’s gonna fuck you so good you won’t remember your own fuckin’ name, how ‘bout that?”

“Fuck,” you croaked, shivering in his hold. You could feel your cunt clench around nothing and you began to pant, as desperate to get air as you were to finally be filled with Steve’s cock. 

“She’s so pretty like this, Buck, fuckin’ hell,” Steve rambled, rooting through a bedside draw before pulling free a foil packet. “Touch her for me.”

“Oh-” You shuddered, your legs jerking against Bucky’s hold as his hand wandered down your stomach.

“Be good for me, honey, my sweet doll, huh?” Bucky breathed and you whimpered. The feel of his fingers trailing so close caused goosebumps to rise in the wake of his fingers, right until they settled between your folds and circled your clit. 

“That’s it, baby,” Steve breathed, stopping his rush to just watch. “Speed it up, I think she can come once more– what d’you think, sweetheart?”

“I can’t-”

“You can,” Bucky replied. “Stevie wants to watch you come undone again, and like the good girl you are-” As he spoke, his fingers picked up their speed and you heaved for breath against the onslaught of sensation. “-You’re gonna put on a show for ‘im, aren’t you?”

“Ye-Yeah, ah! I am, I- oh,” you gasped, and with your arms trapped you could only scramble to hold Bucky’s hips, the pillows, the sheets – something, anything to ground yourself. 

“Come for me, sweetheart,” Steve called, though he sounded underwater – muffled and so far away. “Let go, let go for us.”

You screamed to the ceiling, shaking violently through your second climax that cleaved you like a whip, and Bucky was the only thing holding you together. 

“Fuck, if she looks as pretty as she does without our cocks filling her, Stevie,” Bucky mumbled into your hair, soothing the aftershocks with gentle kisses against your temple. “Imagine how she’d look while you’re gonna fuck her.”

Steve groaned loudly in response. “Move, Buck, I need-”

You whined as Bucky slowly lowered you down his front so your hips were canted forward, and your shoulders rested against his middle, just above his stomach. “There you go, doll, easy,” he soothed, pulling your slumped head back against his chest. “You with us, honey?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice hoarse, but you grinned dopily up at them. “Don’ stop, more-”

They laughed heartily – the rumbling in Bucky’s chest soothing something deep in your mind. It was hard to form any string of thought, coherent or not. 

“You’re just so fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, and you whined, chasing his lips. “No, I wanna watch you.”

If Bucky hadn’t kept hold of you, you could have sworn you had started to ascend – the stretch of Steve’s cock burned, the pain exactly what you had wanted, and you moaned loudly. “That’s it, honey,” Bucky cooed, moving a hand to squeeze your breast. “Takin’ Stevie so well, fuck.”

“Oh, god,” Steve groaned, bottoming out in your cunt and stilling. The small twitches against your walls made you whimper, though you grinned wickedly up at him, watching his bowed head until he met your gaze. “Sweetheart, what are- Shit!”

You chuckled weakly and you felt Bucky move behind you, his lips nipping at the side of your neck. “You tryin’ to make him come, huh, kitten?”

The name pulled a moan from your lips and Steve gasped, your cunt squeezing him like a vice – the once steady rhythm you had pulsing around him thrown out. 

“Do that again, Buck,” Steve breathed. “She’s fuckin’ squeezing me.”

“Aw,” Bucky cooed, and you groaned when Steve started to move – far too fucking slowly. “You want Stevie to fuck you senseless? You want Steve to squirm?”

“Uh-huh,” you replied quietly. 

“She’s too fucked out to form words, baby,” Bucky said to Steve, his tone biting and just the perfect amount of mockery. “I want you to fuck her– fuck her just how you want, go on.”

“Not funny, Buck,” Steve gritted out before he thrusted hard enough to jolt you up Bucky’s chest. It was like you weren’t there – a toy for them to use to rile one another up, and you fucking loved it. 

“Oh, it is,” Bucky continued, shifting slightly so he could attack the other side of your neck. Your whimpers and moans were completely ignored while Steve thrusted shallowly. “You better fuck our girl senseless, baby, or I’ll have to do it myself. You don’t want that do you? You want her pussy all to yourself, you don’t want to share, do you?”

The words were a catalyst to something – the cogs of Steve’s mind finally clicking into place to reveal the wolfish greed he had harboured from the beginning. His thrusts turned brutal and every rock of his hips punched a moan from your lungs, the quickfire and brutality of each thrust driving you up Bucky’s chest. 

“Please-” You gasped, scrabbling to grab hold of something and Bucky’s hip was the only thing you could find purchase on. “Please, oh, fucking- Stevie!”

“That’s it, kitten, scream for him,” Bucky purred before grabbing the back of Steve’s neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss, throwing off his rhythm. You whined loudly and Bucky pulled back, chuckling darkly. “Fuck her, Stevie, make her come.”

A low growl shook Steve’s chest, and it rattled your last sense of control. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rambled, attaching his lips to your neck, the opposite side of where Bucky was marking you with his teeth and tongue. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You clamped down tighter on his cock and your moans grew in pitch, but Steve didn’t falter. “She’s close, Stevie, good boy,” Bucky purred. Steve only moaned, shifting his knees so he could fuck you harder. You could feel Bucky’s hand moving down your stomach and a loud static filled your ears. “You wanna come for him, don’t you, kitten? You wanna be a good girl for us?”

Words failed you. Your mouth opened and closed uselessly as you felt Bucky reach your hip, though he didn’t stop. A full body shudder tore through your limbs and you keened, curling inwards as Bucky’s fingers found your much too sensitive clit with his fingers – all through Bucky’s deft touches, Steve didn’t stop his thrusts, if anything, they got harder, faster, as he chased his release.

“Come for us, honey,” Bucky whispered, his breath hot on the shell of your ear. Steve nodded desperately and whined as the start of your climax trapped him, your cunt sucking him in and not allowing him to leave. “Come for us, kitten- Good girl! Oh, lookatchu! Fuck, that’s a girl, good girl-”

You were drowning in pleasure, you couldn’t breathe – couldn’t feel anything but the deadly throes and sensations of Steve’s cock grinding against that spot and the feeling of Bucky’s breath, hot on your neck. 

Slowly, you came to laying on your side, pressed between two bodies. 

“There she is– hey, sweetheart,” Steve whispered in your ear. Somehow, he was holding you to his chest and Bucky was laying facing you, his eyes opening quickly at Steve’s words. 

“Stevie fucked you a bit too good, honey,” Bucky chuckled, cupping your jaw and sidling closer so he could kiss your forehead. “Are you alright?” As he spoke, Steve rubbed one hand up and down your side as you shivered, squeezing you close with the other. 

“‘M fine,” you said. “Wha’ happened?”

“You blacked out, doll,” Bucky explained. “It was only for a little while.”

“Awesome,” you whispered, and Steve and Bucky laughed. “Are you guys okay?”

“Fuckin’ fantastic,” Steve said – you could hear the grin in his words, and Bucky nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. “We can talk serious shit later, alright? We wanna hold you a lil’ longer.”

“I would love that,” you hummed happily and snuggled into Steve’s arms, smiling as Bucky moved even closer. 

One thing was for sure, today for sure cemented the fact that you had made the right decision – now all you had to do was buckle in for the ride.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #steve rogers x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x steve rogers #stevebucky #stucky #stucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers oneshot #connect4AU #alternate juneiverse 2023 #WSD #rookthorne's works

[nomazee]

Hello, congratulations on your milestone! 🎉

May I have (for the mix-and-match 😚) Dr.Ratio and the word-concept "bathtub"? 🫢

Take your time! ❤️❤️

this one was fun to write too (as per usual with ratio) i've written for dr ratio so much in the last two weeks i think i am becoming him.... Im slowly morphing into veritas ratio please save me... THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING this was lovely :3

my 1k event!

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

“No way. You take bubble baths with a rubber duck?” 

Veritas freezes for no longer than a millisecond before whipping his head around to see you in the doorway of the bathroom. He’d been relaxing just moments ago, sinking into the hot water with his eyes closed, and yes there was a rubber duck in the bath with him but that was not by choice. It just happened to be there when he ran the bath, and he opens his mouth to argue but is quickly cut off by your endless rambling. 

“Anyways, I came to wash your hair. One of your assistants told me you just left in the middle of your usual work hours, and I thought, ‘wow, how odd, the Ratio I know would never do that!’ And then I thought, what better way to cheer my dear friend up than keep him company and wash his hair! It did look a little greasy today.” 

“I am not your dear friend,” he argues mockingly, but the bite in his voice falls short when you circle around the bath and set down your paraphernalia on the tiles next to you (a microfiber hair towel, shampoo, conditioner, some miscellaneous hair foams and sprays that he really does not trust you with). “You are the most insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Get out of my bathroom.” 

“This is our bathroom now, Ratio. We’re a community, you and me.” 

“It’s ‘you and I.’”

“Exactly! You and I, a community. You’re getting the hang of it now.” 

Veritas sighs, surrendering any potential of a relaxing evening to your whims. This is, unfortunately, how it usually goes, and he has yet to make a real effort to stop it. A voice in the back of his head taunts him because at his core, he has zero desire to stop it at all. 

“Come on,” you keep babbling, threading your fingers roughly through his already-damp hair. It’s not a pleasant sensation at all, and he winces and holds back a pained yelp. “It’s kind of like going to a spa, or whatever. I’m trying to pamper you. Be grateful!” 

“There’s nothing to be grateful about when you’re trying to scalp me,” he could push your hands away easily, bat you off and make you leave. Instead, though, he gives you a minute to tame your inelegant movements into something gentler. He hears the sound of a bottle uncapping, and then your hands are back on his scalp, lathering honey-scented shampoo into the layers of his hair. 

“Is this better?” you ask cheekily, tracing circles in his hair, digging your fingertips in and scratching just a little bit, hard enough to feel it but light enough that it’s still soothing. Veritas sighs through his nose, deep and heavy and sinking back into the water. There’s no mocking retorts, no quips, no sarcastic tone, just the even cycle of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. If he tries hard enough, focuses enough, he can hear yours too, but it makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable, unnameable feeling. 

In your bundle of things that you brought, there’s an empty plastic cup, and you use it to scoop water from the tub and rinse the foam from his hair. Veritas feels wholly exposed, for obvious reasons among others, and the urge to kick you out still sits heavy in his chest. Right next to it is a warmth, though, something holding his sensibility hostage, something that finds this more comforting than it would be if he’d sat in the bath until the water went cold, all alone, without your hands washing his hair clean of oil and grime and the weight of his research. 

You break him of his reverie, but the sudden sound of your voice isn’t as intrusive as he anticipated. “You know, you should start using this oil thing for your hair, I got it from one of my coworkers,” by now, his hair is completely rid of any remaining shampoo, and your hands are rubbing a thin layer of conditioner into the ends of each strand, “and it’s supposed to help your hair grow. I think you’d look great with long hair, Veritas, don’t you agree?” 

“What, do you think about that often?” It’s supposed to be something snarky, something to shut you down before you dig too deep, but you never catch the hint—it’s your best and worst quality. 

“Maybe,” you admit, heft in your words, a density that needs to be cut open and examined. He’s good at that—good at looking and prying, but he’s the worst if he’s next to you. You’re nowhere near as thorough of a researcher as him, but he thinks (with a sense of embarrassment) that when the subject is him, you’re the most qualified person around. “Wouldn’t it be nice? With your hair all down to your shoulders, maybe. And if you really think it’s a hassle to take care of, I’ll just do it for you.” 

He’s perfectly capable of taking care of his own hair, thank you very much, but the idea of having you wash it for him, brush out the tangles in it every other day is appealing to a starving man like Veritas. He aches, and the skin at the nape of his neck itches. 

“You’re saying nonsense,” he says, and he can feel the way his brow has tightened and he instinctively goes to chew at the dead skin on his lips. “My hair is perfectly fine the way it is.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you respond, “just giving you options.” Your hands finally leave his hair, and suddenly the water in the bathtub feels frigid and icy, and Veritas represses a shiver. “Your hair is squeaky clean. Now, get out of the bathroom! It’s my turn to hang out with the rubber duck.” 

“Would you—?!” Veritas turns to glare at you, but the impish grin on your face makes him falter. You’re incorrigible. “The duck isn’t mine! And you have your own bathroom. Stop invading my space.” 

“Sigh,” you say aloud, because you’re corny and theatrics are written into every part of your personality. “Oh, grandest Ratio, I really did think we were friends, but you wound me so deeply! All this time has meant nothing to you! All this new shampoo that I bought just for you, gone to waste…” 

“For gods’ sake,” he mutters, reaching for a set of pajamas that you’d so conveniently taken from his own dressers and brought with you while on your mission to wash his hair. “Turn around so I can get dressed and then you can use the bathroom. So annoying.” 

“Not annoying enough to kick me out, though,” you say, and you’re completely right, and Veritas will admit that one day, but certainly not today.

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @hanyi-writes

#nora hits 1k #veritas ratio x reader #dr ratio x reader #ratio x reader #dr. ratio x reader #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #veritas x reader #oh veritas my beautiful annoying obnoxious scholarly man

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Congrats on 5k my dear you deserve it!!!! <3

My humble request is a lil angsty, [Reader] passing away unexpectedly (accident maybe idk) and leaving their child in Simon’s care whom he didnt know existed until then. Child is probably 2-5 years old maybe. Angsty, bittersweet Simon coming to terms with fatherhood, where it goes its up to you!! <3

Also if it feels this can be more than your current limit to two page request celebration then feel free to ignore it! ^^

—Supposed To Happen

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You died and left him a child he had no idea existed. How can he even begin to try and understand?] ❞

He watches his child as they play in the living room with one of the blankets from the couch, his hands digging into the skin of his biceps. 

Simon didn’t know what to think, and that resulted in a panic that could only be seen in his unblinking eyes. So much had happened—so much gone wrong in so little time there wasn’t a moment to process before the next problem jumped on his already heavy shoulders. 

You were dead. 

Dead. 

And he’d had a child this entire time and had never known about it. 

Why hadn’t you told him? Why hadn’t you said anything? None of this made sense to him—even hours after he’d taken this small toddler back to his flat, Simon’s body was quivering under his clothes; indiscernible to anyone but himself. He felt nauseous. 

He wasn’t ready to be a father. Even normal civilian life was…difficult to fall back into. And that was putting it lightly. 

A child. His child. Flesh and blood.

Blinking slowly, the man hadn’t said a word as the child no older than two grabbed at the fabric with its tiny hands—raising it up and down to watch the material wave. Small cut-off giggles stab Simon in the heart and he has to look away firmly as his jaw clenches. It is a bone-deep fear that he holds like a brick in his lungs. 

“Fucking hell,” he breathes out, a hand coming up to rub over his face. Simon wasn’t wearing a balaclava—too afraid he’d scare the little thing. 

The last thing he needed was for them to cry.

“Fucking hell,” Simon repeats, slower and more harshly. 

He was a soldier—a killer…a father?

Simon hadn’t picked the child up after he’d last set them down on the floor, his hands gloved because of the blood he was afraid might be under the stitching; the stain that can never come out. 

A father? No, no he can’t be a father. Not now. Not…not after…

Tiny hands grasp at the material of his pants and he tenses, flinching back two quick steps. The mini body that had been attached to his leg stumbles, tripping on air as the balance it had disappears. 

Wide brown eyes stare tightly, face blank of any emotion as a small silence falls when the thump of little knees meeting the rug makes Simon’s ears twitch in remorse. 

Sniffles result in the man panicking. 

“No, no, no,” he utters, stepping closer with his hands raised as the toddler’s limbs move to their eyes, tears making their way to the floor. “Hey, d-don’t cry. You’re alright, Kid? Yeah? You’re fine.” 

Simon clears his throat as the crying continues—seemingly growing louder as his eyes move about the room. Seeing nothing, and locking with the grabby hands that are leveled up at his face, the soldier shoves down his fear and hesitancy grasps the child. 

Picking it up, he holds it to his chest, whispering quick pleas under his breath. 

“You’re fine.” He paces the room, slow heavy steps trying to make him ease his doubts as the thing grips at him, sniffling. “You’re just fine, eh? I’m begging you, little Devil, ease up on it. I’m right ‘ere.” 

Simon had a child. You were dead. He had a deployment in one week and a stack of paperwork to update. But he can’t leave his kid alone—no, no that was never an option. 

Family meant sticking by one another, and now…this one was the only family he had left. Brown eyes move downward to where the tiny being rests on his pec, his large hands splayed about to keep it secure—one on the little head that puffs breaths now that the tears have stopped.

When had they stopped? Simon didn’t know; he didn’t know the first thing about being a father.

He takes a deep breath of air, filling his lungs with oxygen. The shaking of his hands slowly settles as the minutes lengthen, letting his mind move back to the state it usually was in. There was so much to do—to try and understand. Truth be told, most of it would be shoved to the back of his fractured mind like the rest, but here, now…Simon grunts, keeping his child close to his heart.

First, he had to go buy baby food.

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #cod mw22 #x female reader #mw2 #call of duty x you #mw2 2022 #cod simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #cod x female reader #x fem!reader #cod mw #cod mw2

[galazry]

Sick Day

pairing: wanderer x gn!reader [established relationship] genre: modern au, fluff cw: wanderer is like an asian mom here words: 583 a/n: drabble based on this brainrot. had a headache and thought about how wanderer would take care of their sick s/o.

Your head has been throbbing for god knows how long. It seemed that the constant all-nighters you've pulled have finally brought your body down. Good thing you have your boyfriend to take care of you. As soon as he got the news that you were sick, he instantly appeared on your doorstep, ready to take care of you. A sweet act from someone like him. If only he could tone down the nagging...

"What did I tell you? Stop pulling all-nighters! But did you listen? Of course not! Now I'm stuck here, taking care of you."

"You know you don't have to... I can perfectly take care of myself..."

"Don't make me laugh, [Y/N]. Do you think I'm going to let a sick person take care of themself?! Just focus on getting better so you can quit bothering me!"

Wanderer nagged as his hand skillfully cuts an apple for you. Even if he was in the kitchen, you could hear his grumbles and nags loud and clear. In response, you let out a weak chuckle, not moving an inch from your bed. It was a relief that you've submitted your assignments, so that's one thing to worry less about. Though, you can't help feel bad for your boyfriend. After all, you were both supposed to go on your weekly date, but your body had other plans.

"Open your mouth."

"You know I can eat those by myself ri-"

"Just open your mouth, will you?!"

Your boyfriend holds out a piece of apple, waiting for you to do as he says. With a soft sigh, you opened your mouth for him to prevent anymore nags and grumbles from the man. The apple was sweet, not tart, just how you like it. Even though you were more than capable in doing so, it was nice to have someone to take care of you while you were sick.

"Thanks for taking care of me..."

"Hmph, you better be thankful. I can't believe I'm spending the weekend to take care of you. Now, quit talking and eat. After you've finished, go to sleep. I'll make you a bowl of porridge for dinner."

Even though his words seemed harsh, you knew that deep down, he was actually very worried about you. How did you know? Well, with a little decoding and with how he acted— Wanderer going out of his way to go to your place, him buying you all sorts of medicine (most of which you don't actually need...), buying you fruits and cutting them up— it was quite easy to see that he's very much worried about your well being. You, then, followed his say-so; eating the apples before going back to sleep. It didn't take long for your breath to steady itself as your chest rises and falls.

Unbeknownst to you, Wanderer, who had just finished washing the bowl, comes back to stay by your side. A worried expression, that he doesn't dare show in front of you, adorns his face. His hand caressed your head gently in a way that he's sure won't wake you up.

"Please take care of yourself better... I hate to see you get sick like this..."

The silence that surrounds him was unfamiliar. Wanderer had grown used to you being loud and full of vitality that seeing you bed-ridden, looking so weak and pale, hurts him more than he thought it would. He then leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Get well soon, my dear."

#gala writes #wanderer #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n #wanderer fluff #wanderer x reader fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader fluff #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader fluff #scaramouche fluff #kabukimono x reader #kabukimono x y/n #kabukimono fluff #again why are there so many tags

[nymphybae]

Rainstorms with Alastor

It's unusual for hell to rain, yet this time the droplets grow heavier and thunders struck loud enough to make you unease. You shivered, covering your ears as you tried to focus on the television in front of you. Everybody else was asleep except for yourself, how can you when the storm reminded you of how you met your life's end.

The tv lost its signal and soon powered down, leaving you in an unsettling silence in the lounge room. You pursed your lips, feeling restless as you watch the rain pour from the window.

Footsteps were heard, coming closer into the room. You didn't need to second guess who it was, facing the red haired demon who looked down at you with a sly grin.

"Can't sleep my dear?"

"Yeah.. I just-" A loud thunder storm cut your sentence, immediately putting you in an anxious stance. Your hands were shaking, hugging yourself as an attempt to calm the pulsing in your heart.

Alastor puts his hand on your shoulder, giving you a faint squeeze. "Come with me."

You were a little curious, wondering why he's leading you to your own room.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" He asked, pulling the chair of the tea table you had next to the window. 

"I'd love it." You smiled as he motioned for you to sit. 

With a snap of his fingers, he conjured the equipments needed for the drink.

"This is my favourite batch of tea, it's aroma is just purely sweet as if it came straight from heaven, ha!" he brewed the pot with his dark magic. 

"Here." 

You took the cup, thanking him as you took a sip of the warm tea. Who would've thought the caffeine would help you so much. "It's really good! No wonder you order this batch every other month."

Alastor sat across you, holding a cup himself. He had a pleased smile on his face. "Glad to hear. Now, tell me what's troubling you so late at night?"

Should you really tell him? You figured it was too silly, especially for the radio demon himself. Out of all things that could displease you in hell are the vigorous sounds from outside.

"I hate thunderstorms." You admitted. He didn't say anything, as if waiting for you to continue so you did. You took a deep breath. "It reminds me of the little remnant memories I have left of my death. I lived below mountains, you see. My brothers locked me out of the house because I turned in on our family’s illegal trading to the police- which I obviously didn’t. Then a really terrible thunderstorm came, wiped out most of our crops and farmland. The heavy wind threw me down a lake and I drowned till water filled my lungs.” You took another sip of the tea. “I guess it wasn’t the death, it was the fact that my own blood betrayed me only because of their own assumptions, and I end up losing everything in the end. But they got to live, probably thinking that I left and never came back.” Your hand formed a fist at the thought. It was a short silence for a bit until Alastor spoke.

"Hah, Men.” He poured more tea into his cup. You chuckled at his remark. Who taught him that sort of phrase?

“When exactly did you die again?”

You hummed in thought. “Decades ago.. I can’t recall.” 

Alastor’s permanent smile remains plastered on his face. “Men are soulless and willingly disobedient during my time! There were always reports of disloyalty in newspaper. I would know, I broadcasted them in my radio show!” 

You clicked your tongue playfully. “So much for someone who was a serial killer.”

His grin grew. "Haha, But I was not a vicious idiot darling!" 

“Oh? Did you happen to have any experiences with men in your li-“

A lightning struck at the hotel's electric circuit.  electricity buzzed and every power in the hotel was cut off. The only bit of light in your room came from the windows. 

"Shit, see this is why i fucking hate the rain." You panicked, shuffling around in the dark until a pair of hands grasped you from moving and hitting the furnitures. You look up and saw his glowing red eyes. 

When you finally stood still, he pulled his hands off from you. "Don't worry yourself. I'll take care of this." 

"Wait- You can't leave me here." 

Alastor hums a familiar tune, holding up his cane as he gave you his arm to take.

You hesitated at first, taking his arm before you both teleported to his radio station. 

"Why are we here?" You asked, looking around his personal building.

"Who did you think manages the electricity here? I can't let outsiders control our power supply, especially that excuse for a television head!" He opens a large electrical box, taking a glance at all of the smoked up wires. You waited there awkwardly, covering your ears in preparation for the next thunder strike. 

"You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you~" he sung to himself, working on the wires. 

"Frankie Valli's a classic." You spoke out. He's been humming the song for the whole week now.

“Couldn’t agree more darling! Apologies if it’s bugging you. I suppose the song is stuck in my head for some time.” he turned on the said music on his radio.

“How ironic! I remember my last theatre show was me dancing to this song.” You tapped your feet to the beat.

Alastor walks over to you, taking both of your hands that were covering your ears. “Let’s see if those dance moves are still in tact.” 

The music swept through the room as they danced together, moving enthusiastically while you try to hold in your laughter.

I love you baby! And if it's quite alright, I need you baby. to warm a lonely night.

I love you baby, trust in me when I say

You felt warmth spread throughout your entire being as Alastor spun you around. All the anxiousness from the on going storm washed away as you lead the dance, guiding him through a series of steps.

And there, in the midst of the music and the rhythmic beat, he saw something in you that he had never seen before. A determination, a drive, and a passion that left him chuffed.

The music faded away, and so did the rainstorm. You were quite pleased at this, looking at Alastor with a bright smile. "That was fun. Didn't even realized the power went back on halfway through the dance."

He tilt his head, planting a gentle kiss onto your knuckles. "It's been a pleasure. I suppose now you'll feel much better to lay off in bed?"

You nodded. Why of course, as from now on the heavy thunderstorms will only remind you of this unforgettable night with your beloved co worker.

#hazbin hotel fluff #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader

[perlelune]

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | ix.

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

The next few weeks trudge along in a dull fog, the efflorescence of spring yielding to the sizzling heat of summer. You cloister yourself in a sedulous bubble, turning your focus to cheerleading and the upcoming midterms.

You miss your friends, each day agonizing as you’re trapped in aching loneliness.

You miss Mindy’s sarcastic jokes, Chad’s warmth, Anika’s laugh.

You miss the lazy afternoons spent in each other’s dorms and horror movie nights. You miss the goofy late night chats about everything and nothing.

You also miss Ethan, his kindness, his patience.

Without him, studying becomes much harder. 

Even more than the help he provided, his friendship meant the world to you. He always listened and knew exactly what to say to cheer you up. Unfortunately he’s just as in danger as everyone else in your presence.

Getting close to you is a death sentence. 

You’ve learnt that some time after Tyler was attacked.

He succumbed to his injuries the very next night.

The news shook the student body and unleashed a ripple of fear throughout campus. 

As for you, it cemented your decision to keep away from everyone you hold dear. 

It’s for the best.

Your heart shatters every time Ghostface’s words bounce in your head. 

If you had stayed away from Tyler, he’d still be alive. The guilt of knowing that weighs upon you everyday.

It’s no wonder people give you wary looks when you walk across campus. It’s a miracle Alana even let you remain on the team with everything going on. 

You know she has every reason to kick you out and, truthfully, you’d understand if she did. 

It’s like Jeff said at the hospital. You’re cursed.

It’s Friday night and you’re in your room on your own, your roommate away on a trip with her boyfriend.

You don’t mind it since Vanessa started tossing you the same strange looks as everyone else lately.

It’s created a weird atmosphere in your dorm.

You’ve even caught her trying to fill a form to switch roommates, citing medical reasons. She was expeditiously denied as the year’s far too advanced and has been in a mood since.

A break is more than welcome.

Sitting on your bed with your knee against your chest, you carefully apply the second coat of your favorite pink nail polish. You smile at your handiwork once it’s dry, happiness fluttering through you at how pretty your toes look. 

As you remove your toe separator and wiggle them, wondering if you should add a layer of glitter or not, your phone buzzes.

Terror clutches your insides. 

A surprised exhale leaves your lips and you even kick the bottle of nail polish across the fuzzy rug below your bed, staining the pale blue wool with bright dots of pink.

Heart pounding a heavy staccato in your chest, you gingerly pick up your phone from beside your pillow.

You suck in a deep breath, then another one.

Ever since that night, you’ve been on edge every time your phone buzzes.

Needless to say the last few weeks have taken a tremendous toll on your sanity.

Finally, you gather the courage to check the text you just received.

At the sight of the familiar name, a mix of relief and melancholy floods your insides.

(Anika K: 

Hey, just checking on you and wishing you a happy Friday. Hope you’re okay and, if not, that things will look up very soon. 

I know you said you wanted space so I’m not gonna push, but I just wanted to let you know that I miss you so so much and things aren’t as fun when you’re not around.

I don’t know everything but I want you to know that I love and support you no matter what.

Here’s a bear for you cause I know how much you love them! 💖💖💖

Your bestie, Nikki)

A dancing bear shooting little hearts follows her message.

Tears swim in your eyes as you grow overwhelmed. They drip onto the screen, water smudging Anika’s words. You wipe your eyes and sniffle, grabbing the box of tissues on your night table. 

It’s not the first time your friends have tried to reach out.

Nearly everyday you get a message from Mindy, Chad, Anika and even Tara and Quinn sometimes, despite not being as close to them. 

They’re trying to get you to come out and act normal again. Except you can’t. 

No matter how much you crave it, normalcy is beyond your grasp. As soon as you’ll let your guard down, he’ll come back to torture you. Who knows who he’ll pick next just to teach you a lesson.

You can’t bear it. You can’t be the reason people are getting hurt. 

So you close the conversation with Anika as tears stream down your face, once again leaving her on read. 

Your heart sinks to your feet. 

You grab your teddy bear and hug it tightly, shuddering sobs wracking your frame.

The pit of hollowness inside you expands. 

You’ve never been so isolated before. It makes you wish you appreciated everything you used to have more. 

A gentle knock on the door lures you away from your wistful musings.

You gasp as your head jerks up.

You quickly wipe your eyes, lamenting their puffy redness as you get a glimpse of your despondent reflection in your vanity mirror.

You let go of your bear, propping him against the headboard.

Plastering on a smile, you plod to your dorm’s entrance.

Your jaw hangs slack at the sight of the head of brown curls and lopsided, bashful smile you know too well.

“Hey,” he greets, adjusting the strap of his backpack.

“E-Ethan? You shouldn’t be here.”

You attempt to shut the door but Ethan wedges his foot against the door jamb to keep it open.  He slinks inside and closes the door behind him.

Your eyes grow wider.

He drops his backpack on the floor and leans against the door, tilting his head sideways while running his eyes over you. 

“You missed all our tutoring sessions,” he notes.

A feeble apology stumbles out of your lips. “I’m sorry.”

He hums in acknowledgement before adding, “You don’t answer when I text or call.”

You heave out a long sigh.

“You should go.”

You try to shove him out but he doesn’t budge.

“No way,” he says firmly.

Your fingers outstretch toward the handle but Ethan’s faster, snapping the lock into place and placing himself in front of the door so you can’t escape.

You gawk at him.

“Ethan…What are you doing?”

Towering over you, he takes a slow step in your direction.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

His hand sneaks under your chin when you lower your head.

“I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be,” he mutters, angling your chin upward so his gaze dives into yours. His chestnut orbs soften as they drink you in. “Come on. I’m always here for you, you know that.”

The longer you peer at him, the more the fences you erected around yourself crumble, until nothing is left but ruins.

More tears swell in your eyes.

“Everyone who gets close to me dies, Ethan,” you shakily confess.

Immediately, he wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in a tight warm hug. 

“Shh, that’s just not true,” he whispers tenderly, cradling the back of your head as you weep against his chest.

“Yes, it’s true. It’s like everyone’s saying. I’m cursed.”

He collects your trembling fingers from your lap and twines them with his. 

Your tears soak his shirt but Ethan doesn’t seem to mind. He grabs your hand and guides you back to your bed as you thoughtlessly trail behind him.

He sits you at the edge of your bed and hunkers down in front of you. Even like this, Ethan’s so tall that you’re still at eye level with him.

“You’re not cursed," he affirms softly. 

Water drips down where your hands are joined with his. 

“Yes, I am," you quaver. 

"But I am."

"No," he fervently retaliates, lifting one hand to swipe your tears with his thumb while the other one roams over your thigh. "It just wasn’t meant to be. These guys weren’t right for you…" You stare at him, numb with shock. Dumbfounded, you don’t move as he cups your cheeks and bends over you.

A confident smile unfurls on his mouth.

Warm lips suddenly collide with yours. You find yourself on your back, confined between Ethan’s large frame and the mattress as he kisses you senseless. 

You whimper and his kiss turns hungrier, his hand roughly gripping under your thigh in a way that’ll surely bruise the next day. He hums, exploring your mouth and sweeping over your curves.

As an unmistakable pressure jutting from between Ethan’s legs presses into your belly, alarm bells ring inside your head.

You bang against his chest to get him to stop. 

"Ethan! What are you-"

He finally allows you to breathe but doesn’t free you, keeping you caged beneath him by putting his hands on each side of you. 

He licks his swollen lips and caresses the side of your face before admitting breathlessly, "I love you."

Your mouth falls open in sheer disbelief. You toss him a contrite look as he scrutinizes you. 

"I…I’m sorry but I don’t feel this way about you, Ethan."

He chuckles, a hopeful smile blooming on his features.

"Maybe not now but…"

"No, I don’t think I ever will,” you cut him off, your voice dwindling. “I only see you as a friend. One of my best friends.” You raise your hand to graze his jaw and he flinches at your touch, his brows squeezing together. “I care about you so much…but not like that. I’m sorry."

Something shifts in Ethan’s eyes, the light in them dimming.

"I see."

The coldness of his deep timbre sends a wave of ice through your veins.

He scoffs meanly, a manic glint waltzing in his brown gaze, "So you’d throw yourself at any random guy but not me?” He corrals your jaw in a bruising grip. You whimper, fingers latching to his wrist to pull him away but he’s much too strong.

A devilish grin curves his lips as he leers down at you. “What are you, some kind of slut?” He leans over you so his lips ghost over your earshell. You quake as he mumbles chilling words into your ear. “Maybe since you’re a slut, I should treat you like one.”

You unleash an audible breath, your lip wobbling.

Suddenly, there’s no more air, no more space. Only Ethan’s large frame pinning you to the bed as his hands wander over you, feeling everywhere at once.

Struggling is for naught, his ardent mouth tracing the column of your neck.

He nips at your skin and you sob.

"No, Ethan, please. This isn’t you,” you plead, fat tears rolling down your face.

His hand creeps inside your shorts and your heart skips a beat. A squeal tears from your throat as he plucks at your folds through your panties. 

Ethan muffles your scream by draping his hand over your mouth. You look up at him with fearful eyes, adrenaline rushing through your blood.

Palming your core, Ethan unleashes a devious chuckle.

"Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” he whispers, yanking a broken wail from you when he pinches your bundle of nerves.

~

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #dark!ethan landry #ethan landry x you #scream 6 #scream #bimbo!reader #scream fanfic

[hazashiovo]

Yo I heard you were taking requests, this is the first one I’ve ever sent but do you got some Kuvira relationship headcanons? I’d love to hear them

A/n: Kuvira took over my brain ever since I started book 4. It's a shame I can't find more fics with her.

Kuvira x reader headcanons

So now it really depends on how you meet.

If you meet her before becoming the great Uniter,she would be more carefree and open with you, but if you meet her after,now that's a different story. So let's roll with this one.

She would be pretty much against pda, but while alone,you get to cuddle with her and talk about your day.

You probably work for her,so seeing her isn't an issue. I mean yeah,you hate not being able to hold her hand,or kiss her while she's working, but it's one of her boundaries that you accept.

Talking about boundaries,she's very thorough with things that you are and are not okay with. She cares a lot about you and she wants you to know it.

Kuvira is a very calculated person,so once she had her eye on you she started picking up little things that you would do or say.

So she very much knows most of your habits.

Pet names like : Dear, love, sweetheart and angel are on a daily basis with you.

Don't ask why,I don't make the rules.

Everywhere she goes, you go. Everywhere you go,she goes. It's just something the two of you picked on with time.

She cooks for you. And she makes delicious food.

Her love language is words of affirmation and gift giving.

Some mornings you'd wake up with flowers on your nightstand, the thing is ,it's not your usual kind of flowers that you pick in a garden. No,she made those flowers out of metal. She made them thinking of you.

Kuvira would be reluctant on letting you fight among side her,but you proved yourself enough times to her,and trust is a big thing in your relationship.

You were known as her right hand, everyone knew you stood by her side no matter what.

Kuvira never worried about you leaving her for any reason. Not her ideas or her way of taking back the earth kingdom.

You stood loyal to her.

She would sometimes worry about you being targeted by her enemies,but she'd trust your abilities to protect yourself.

NSFW bellow the cut!

She's either a stone top,or a hard dom.

On rare occasions she allows you to touch her, she gets off on making you squirm and whimper underneath her.

Making you moan is never a challenge for her,and she takes great pride in her ability.

Sometimes so much that she ends up overstimulating you.

If you're a woman,her favorite body parts are your tighs or back. Kuvira loves grabbing your thighs while she fucks deep into you,she loves leaving bites and hickeys all the way to your cunt.

Seeing your back bent as she thrusts in you drives her insane. A smirk adorning her face as she holds you by the waist,watching her hand made strap go in and out of you.

If you're a man, she loves your neck and hands.

You're never in control,even when you're inside her. She controls how fast or hard you go.

Her personal favorite way to take you,is riding you,that way she can see the expressions you make,how good she makes you feel.

She has a thing with kissing your neck/ leaving hickeys on it. Each time the two of you fuck,you wake up the next morning with love bites all over your neck.

And about your hands? She's In love with how your hands grip her waist or tighs,it makes her so wet.

It doesn't matter if you're a woman or man, but bondage is to be expected.

If you've been bratty to her, she would use her metal bending on your wrists, sticking them to the wall, above your head while she has her way with you. Or if she was in a teasing mood. She can be very cruel if she wants to.

Expect her to be mean to you if she had a rough day. She'd say words like 'slut' or 'ungrateful' ,if you beg her for more.

The next day you would struggle to walk ,and she would take advantage of it,making little comments only you would understand, bringing heat to your face.

Each time the two of you would make eye contact she would smirk at you, making you avert your gaze.

.

.

.

A/n :I had to include the nsfw parts,Its been on my mind to much 😔

#kuvira x reader #kuvira #reader #female reader #male reader #x reader fic #x reader #the legend of korra x reader #tlok fic #tlok #tlok kuvira #kuvira x female reader #kuvira x male reader #fem #masc #name #fic #lemon #smut #wlw #the legend of korra #legend of korra x reader

[hysteria-things]

THREE

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: chris doesn’t remember his promise, but you do.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLASHBACK, blood, crying, anxiety attack

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 750

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i don’t mean for these parts to be kinda short but it’ll get longer trust!

i wrote five things today my head HURTS SO BAD

spring break at last. the breeze hits when you get out of the minivan, little twelve-year-old you and the triplets go sprinting to the hockey rink that’s placed just outside of the playground.

marylou and jimmy were on pickup duty today for school, and because it’s friday, they took you guys to the park. your favorite place to go to with your best friends.

chris holds the rink gate open for you, and you sit down on the bench. the boys want to skate with you since you know how. you’re not as good as them, though. they’re naturals at this.

nick and matt put on their skates in seconds and go into the rink, while chris hands you his old ones that don’t fit him anymore but they do fit you. you slide them on and they fit like a glove, grunting when you struggle to get the clip on.

chris drops his left skate next to him. “let me do it.” he says, getting up from the bench with the single skate he has on and kneeling to help you.

you watch as he clips it; even tying the laces for you. you smile. “thanks.”

once his skates are secure, he joins his brothers. the three skate like mad around the rink as you slowly go around the rail, holding onto the wall from time to time.

once you get the hang of it, you feel confident enough to let go to move faster. you hear the cheers once you let go, rolling your eyes playfully.

chris makes sure to stay close enough to you just in case. you guys talk, not paying attention as much as you should…

because in seconds, a rock gets caught on your wheel and you fall forward onto the hard ground. “y/n!” chris exclaims in shock, skating to you and sitting on the ground.

“what happened?” matt asks, he and nick joining you guys on the ground.

tears spill out of your eyes, a huge cut on your leg. you’re bleeding nonstop, which doesn’t help the sobs leaving your lips.

you hate blood. whenever you see it you get severely lightheaded.

as in right now. you can’t help but stare at it, feeling dizzy the longer you do. you’re too busy staring you don’t realize the chatter around you, along with nick’s voice shouting from the playground. “mom, dad! y/n fell! she’s bleeding real bad!”

your breathing picks up. “ch-chris. it hurts— it’s ble-eding a lot.” you say between sobs.

“don’t look at it,” he replies calmly, taking your head and bringing it to his chest. his arm blocks the cut from your vision.

you close your eyes to try to catch your breath, and then you hear scurrying next to your ear. a bag plops on the floor, and matt pulls out his first aid kit.

no matter what, he always has one in his bag just in case.

it’s not deep to where you need stitches, but you got cut pretty good that it’ll definitely leave a scar.

matt lifts your leg onto his knee since he’s sitting criss-cross applesauce, taking a gauze out of a baggy. “matt’s going to put gauze on, okay? it might hurt a little.” chris says so you know what’s going on even though you can’t see.

you wince from the shock of pain, but the gauze does help with the bleeding. “now he’s going to put a big bandaid on.”

matt unwraps the bandaid, gently placing it on the cut. he tries his best to clean up as much blood as he can on your leg, but there’s a drop stain down your leg.

chris lets you go, and you glance down at the now-covered wound. you take three deep breaths just as their parents come rushing into the rink with nick. “oh dear.” marylou exclaims, coming over to help you off of the ground. “let’s get you home. you’re going to have to clean it as soon as you get there.”

chris switches places with his mother, lifting you slightly off of the ground so you don’t put as much pressure on your leg when you walk back to the car. matt and nick walk next to the two of you.

you’re more calm now, but your eyes are still red and puffy. “thank you guys for helping me.” you mumble.

chris smiles. “of course. we’ll always be here for you.”

you look at him in the eyes. “promise?”

“i promise.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff #[ ✿ ] promise?

[galacticgraffiti]

After, and From Then On

NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI

Pairing: Gale of Waterdeep x gn!reader

Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 3k Descriptors: Reader's anatomy is not described. I tried to keep it genderneutral, if something slipped through the cracks let me know! CW: grinding (the carnal way), soft-topping Gale bc he deserves it, so soft dom vibes for reader, subby vibes for gale, loads of praise, some dirty talk, feelings, established relationship, some tiddy play (gale receiving hehe)

Author's Note: If you know me, then you know I am not a top, let alone a dom. HOWEVER. Gale makes me feel some type of way. So there you go.

Masterlist ⋆ If you prefer AO3

⋆ ───── ⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆

After, and From Then On

“What a day,” Gale sighs, flopping down onto his pillows. “Dear me, I thought that fight would never end. Thank the gods for Karlach’s greataxe.”

“Right you are, my love.” You sit next to him, feet wiggling, your body still pumped full of adrenaline. The camp has not been this quiet in ages - everyone is away, bathing, looking for supplies. The silence is too much to bear after a day so full of noise and excitement. Your body is practically vibrating with tension, and the sight of Gale does nothing to ease that excitement: You have been in a very specific mood since you bathed together, the rest of the party granting you some time alone by the river in the woods.

Gale had said nothing nor done anything to encourage this mood. Maybe it’s left over adrenaline from the fights, maybe it’s the way he looks with his wet ringlets and the little dangling earring and his beautiful brown eyes. You have been trying very hard to contain yourself - Gale may be very forward in romantic gestures, but he usually takes some time to warm up for anything… more. So you had not said anything when you bathed, though the fire in your belly burns hot.

Looking at him now does not help your situation: The deep cut of his robes revealing the fine hair on his chest, the tattoo stretching its smokey tendrils all the way up his neck.

When Gale lets his head fall back, you watch as the tendons in his throat stretch and strain with the movement, and sparks crackle through your body anew. You want to mark that perfect neck. You want to make him yours.

For a moment, you try to look away. You close your eyes and breathe, but the feeling won’t let up. You are all hopped up, in spite of the long day behind you, and there is only one thing that could help you release some of that tension.

“Gale,” you purr, one hand moving to grab his thigh, wandering up and up and up very slowly. “My love, that fight was… sure something. I love watching you practise your craft, you really are masterful. So inventive, so quick. Karlach is brutally good with that greataxe of hers, but nothing gives me greater pleasure than watching you fight, baby.”

Gale’s eyes snap open at your tone of voice. You hold your breath, giving him the opportunity to stop you, but he does not. Instead, you can see the way his cheeks flush. Your eyes watch closely how his throat bobs when he swallows thickly.

“You flatter me, my darling,” he whispers, his voice rough as he covers your hand on his thigh with his own.

“Mhhm. Maybe.” Your own voice is low and sweet. “A little flattery never hurt anyone, especially when I mean every word I say. And I do know how much you enjoy praise, don’t you, baby boy?”

His thigh beneath your hand twitches at that, and you watch with satisfaction as dark desire is sparked in the deep honey of his eyes. You lick your lips and cock your head, quietly asking for Gale to respond.

“Is that- is that the mood you are in?” He clears his throat, stalling for time as your fingers creep further up his leg, dragging a nail up his thigh. You roll onto your side so you can get a better view of him: His cheeks flush as he spreads his legs further for you, his mouth barely open but enough so that you can hear the breaths and low moans that fall from his lips when you finally cup his hardening cock in your hand.

“That is the mood I’m in, my love,” you confirm sweetly, pressing your palm down until Gale shudders, the quietest of whimpers escaping from his throat. “And is it the mood you are in?”

Gale’s hand is placed on top of yours and you let him guide you, more than willing to give in to his request… for now.

“It is very much the mood I am in now.” With a tilt of his head he smiles, his eyes soft and already clouded with sweet pleasure. You smile a wicked smile, now properly wrapping your hand around him through his robes and undergarments, savouring the weight of him in your hand.

“And that’s all it takes to get you hard for me, baby? Knowing that I want to spoil you rotten, knowing I want to make you beg for me until all you can think of is my name?” You feel him twitch beneath your fingers again, and you smirk. Oh, it really is so easy to get him all riled up.

Gale moans, fingers fisting into his robes, and for once, he responds not in words but in a sharp, desperate nod.

“Come on, baby boy, I’m gonna need to hear you say it for me, yeah? Tell me how much you want it and maybe I’ll allow you to come for me.”

“Oh!” The whimper that escapes Gale only fans the flames in your belly. This is the only time you ever see him lost for words. As much as you enjoy listening to him, learning from him, soaking up the knowledge he possesses like a sponge… this is special. This is a way only you ever get to see him: Lost for words as he is buried in the pleasure you bring him. You love the way you can always tell exactly how far gone he is, by the twitch of his thigh and the look in his eyes.

You run your nails along the length of his cock, revelling in the sweet moans that fall from Gale’s lips before you decide that this is simply not enough.

You push yourself up, and before Gale can open his mouth to protest the loss of contact, you straddle him, bracketing his thighs between yours. His hands come to rest on your hips without even thinking, and you don’t see why you shouldn’t allow it. Not now that you can feel him press against you, hard as a rock; not now that you feel the heat emanating from him; not now that you can push your hands inside his robes to play with his perfect chest. When your fingertips graze his nipple, Gale lets out a moan so loud you have to bend forward and kiss him to swallow it up.

“Shh, baby, they’ll hear you. The river is not so far away.” You remove one hand from his robes to cup his jaw, swiping your thumb across his lower lip as you look at him sternly. “And if you don’t want an audience… you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“No- never.” Gale’s voice breaks even within those few syllables. “I desire you, more than anything- I wish for you to take whatever you want from me and let that be enough to keep you by my side. I want to make you happy.”

“Mhh, you do make me happy,” you hum, though your heart aches at his words. “Listen to me, my love. I will never leave you. You are enough, just the way you are.”

Carefully, you kiss him again, sweetly, without haste, pushing your tongue into his mouth until he moans your name. Your hips start rocking, grinding down into him, and you let yourself enjoy the feeling of him beneath you. His hips buck and you click your tongue in disappointment.

“No, no, baby, you stay nice and still for me. You stay just like this and look so pretty for me, with your cheeks all flushed and your lips swollen from my kisses, and you don’t move until I tell you it’s okay. The longer you stay still for me, the more time I’ll have to praise you, to tell you just how perfect you are for me. Would you like that, my love? ”

Gale shudders, but his hips still.

“Yes, I would like that,” he mumbles, his eyes cast down.

Gently, you tilt his chin up with two fingers.

“You are not just telling me what I want to hear now, are you?” you ask sternly. “You can always say no, my love. I won’t be mad.”

Gale’s lip trembles before he catches himself. His hands tighten on your hips.

“I do want this,” he says, his voice rough with sweet and honest desire. “This is… perfect. You are perfect- you treat me so much better than she-”

“Shh.” You shake your head. “No thoughts of her. You don’t belong to her anymore. You are your own person, my love, and you are so wonderful. So talented and so wise, so sweet and so brave. You are everything good and more. And… if you wish, you can be mine, all mine. My sweet love. As long as you are happy, so am I.”

Gale nuzzles his face against your chest at your words. You wrap your arms around him and hold him as tight as you can, placing sweet kisses in his soft hair.

“You are perfect,” you whisper. “And you are always enough. Whatever you want is fine- whether you want more, or whether you want less. I’ll always take care of you, baby boy.”

You bury your hands in his hair, loosening your embrace to give him space. For a second, Gale remains still, but then he pulls back to look up at you, his eyes shimmering in the light of the sunset.

“My affections for you run deeper than even I have words to describe,” he murmurs. “All I can think of when I look at you is that- I want more. I always want more. Especially when it comes to you.”

You smile and bend closer to him until your lips nearly touch, the bridge of his nose resting against yours.

“Good boy,” you whisper. Gale tenses beneath you, and pleasure ripples through you when he sighs happily.

“I like it when you call me that,” he admits quietly.

You chuckle.

“I’ll make sure to take note of that, my love.” Slowly, your hips resume their movement, grinding down against him once more, but you pace yourself. You don’t want to do too much too fast. “You are being so good for me. So patient and so sweet, so eager to please me. My sweet, good boy.”

Gale moans again, his voice echoing in the crisp air. You press a finger to his lips.

“Shh, baby, shhh. As much as I love the way you sound, you need to be quiet. Can you do that for me, my love? Can you be quiet?” When Gale hesitates, a devious smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Mhh, I can always give your mouth something else to do, then. Would you like that?”

“I think I would very much enjoy that.” Gale nods eagerly and looks at you with those big eyes of his that tug at your heart.

“Good boy.” You smile and kiss him once again. You stroke his cheek, taking your time to caress his face, make him feel loved and seen and safe, before you slowly push two fingers into his mouth. Gale’s eyes go wide with surprise, but he overcomes his hesitancy quickly, sucking on your fingers with an eagerness you did not expect.

“Oh, you really like that, don’t you?” You mumble, more to yourself than anything else. “Look at you- those rosy lips wrapped around my fingers, your cock so hard for me. You’re perfect, baby, so perfect for me. Gods, I love feeling you beneath me, I love feeling how hard I can get you. I love the expression on your face when you finally get to turn off that brain of yours, when your mind goes quiet and empty except for the way I’m making you feel.”

Gale nods, humming around your fingers.

“You like that too, hm?” You smile at the eager expression on his face. “Well then. Relax for me, baby. Focus on me, yeah? Focus on the taste of my fingers in your mouth, focus on how good it feels to grind up against me- now you can move, baby, there you go. There you go, good boy, oh- oh, you’re so hard for me, aren’t you? Already getting desperate for me? So, so desperate to come, oh I know, I’m torturing you. Forgive me, baby, it’s just so- much- fun-”

You pull your fingers from his lips to give him the chance to answer, dipping your hands into his robes again instead, dragging the wetness of his spit across his hardened nipples.

“I ado- oh!- adore the way you make me feel,” Gale breathes. “You make me feel things I had never felt before- you make me feel safe and- you take care of me. When it all gets too much, when I get overwhelmed, I know I can always look to you. You have become my safe place in the time we have been travelling together, and nothing makes me happier than the sparkle in your eye when you spot me across camp, or across a room, or even across a bloodied battlefield.”

“Mhhm.” You sigh in contentment, ignoring the burn in your thighs as you rock your hips into him. “You feeling good, baby?”

“Much better than good.” Gale’s cheeks are rosy, and his eyes have the absent shimmer of someone lost in pleasure. “Will you- would you kiss me again?”

Your heart melts.

“Of course.”

His lips are soft, and they taste of mead and blood- remainders of a long day. You don’t mind when you push your tongue into his mouth, especially not with the way Gale moans into you. You deepen the kiss, your hands finding their way into his hair again, tugging gently. Gale’s thigh jumps at that and he lets out a strangled sound.

“Good gods, I-”

You freeze.

“Was that a good reaction or a-”

“Yes! Yes, good reaction.” He captures your lips again after he whispers, “do it again.”

You hum and fulfil his wish, pressing up against him as you gently tugging his curls until he tilts his head back. You can feel the softness of his belly against yours, and his fingers starting to dig into your hips though he knows better than to force your pace.

Gale moans, his hips pressing up into you in a way that really makes you feel just how hard he is. When you roll your hips, meeting him right where you want him, the outline of his cock slotting between your thighs so deliciously, a breathy curse falls from his lips. You tug at his hair again, and Gale exhales your name with such reverence it takes your breath away. 

Your kiss gets greedy, your tongue in his mouth, and you let yourself fall into him, panting as you chase your own pleasure, hips rolling, pressing down against the hard length of his cock. You break the kiss only to breathe, your lips swollen, and note with pleasure that Gale’s lips are rosy and his eyes heavy-lidded.

“You look so pretty like this for me,” you whisper, cupping his jaw in your hand again, stroking his cheek with a gentle touch. “Absolutely perfect. I never want to stop looking at you, my pretty boy, my sweet boy- my perfect boy. The way you worship me makes me never want to stop- makes me want to give you everything you ask for… what is it you want, my love? Do you want to come like this, filthy and quick and good? Or do you want to take your time- will you let me take care of you properly later?”

Gale groans, his lips parting and his brow furrowing as he ponders your question. You never stop moving, grinding down against him with shallow movements, savouring the sight of him beneath you, dishevelled at your hands and yours alone.

“We could go into town,” you continue as a plan slowly forms in your head. “We could rent a room, a proper one, with a real bed- enjoy all the luxuries the city has to offer for a night. Just us, nobody else: not the others, no gods or goddesses, no elder brain, no danger. Just us and the love we have for each other. Let me take care of you. Let me take my time and make you happy, let me make sure you have everything you have ever wanted. Because you deserve it, my love. You are so precious to me- you are everything. I would take down gods to taste you.”

Gale stares at you, and for once in his life, his words don’t seem to be enough. Then-

“I love you.”

You pause, taking in the sudden look of panic on his face, feeling the way his hands grasp at the material of your trousers in their search for something to hold on to, noting the way his lower lip is trembling and how he can’t look you in the eye. He does not expect you to respond. You can tell. He expects you to push him away and ease off his lap without telling him how you feel, because nobody has ever done that for him. The thought makes your heart shatter into a million pieces.

You tilt his chin up and hold him there until finally, he looks at you properly. You smile, and you have never meant anything more than you mean the words you say to him now:

“I love you too, Gale.”

⋆ ───── ⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆

I'm losing my marbles pondering his orb. And his orbs.

@purgetrooperfox @ashotofspotchka @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ulchabhangorm @queen--kenobi @samspenandsword @rescuethewretched @pinkiemme @baba-fett @witchklng @ladykatakuri @certified-anakinfucker @fanfiction-i-llike @voidinfernal @foxferret02 @rosieofcorona @savagemickey03 @perseny @margoisthemoon2 @shiiunn @saucyhedgehog @tonysoffice @pupshr00m @supercalifragilisticprincess @palpipeen @silly-gooseastarion @mila-bee @shit-i-say-throughout-the-day @idkwhatsgoingonwithme @aeryntheofficial @jekasha @gub @nogitsune-the @solarrexplosion @hexqueensupreme @unofficialavenger90 @frankiesghost @curtaincaramba @kimiheartblade @niqhtfell @campfull-of-weirdos

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #gale x reader #gale x you #reader insert #gale of waterdeep x reader #gala writes #nsft

[starrylothcat]

If you gave the clones flower, like a bouquet of flowers, what do you think their reactions would be?

You can of course include as few or as many clones as you'd like and any Squad.

💐 💐 💐 For you, Dear!

Omg thank you so much for this ask???

Oh this is fun! I made this into a Clone x Reader HC/Drabble thing and got a bit carried away.

Warnings: None. Mentions of kissing. Established relationship. Reader not described. Didn’t proofread, sorry. 😅

The Bad Batch + Bonus Rex under the cut! Hope you enjoy my ramblings~

💋💐 You Give The Bad Batch (+Rex) Flowers Headcanons/Drabble 💋💐

Hunter

He’s confused at first, wondering why you are holding a handful of flowers out toward him.

You tell him you thought of him when you saw the flowers. They made you happy, so you hoped they’d make him happy, too.

Hunter accepts them, not used to receiving gifts, especially thoughtful ones like this.

He’s so used to giving, leading, bearing responsibility, it catches him off guard how nice it feels to be taken care of in return.

The flowers smell sweet, reminding him of you.

He smiles and cups your chin gently, bringing you in for a passionate kiss, feeling some of his stress melt away.

“Thank you, mesh’la. They are beautiful, just like you. What would I do without you looking out for me?”

He tucks one of the flowers into his hair above his ear, wearing it the rest of the day, his thoughts never straying from you.

Crosshair

You hold a flower out to him, and he just stares at you.

“What are you doing?” He finally speaks.

“I’m giving you a flower.”

Crosshair raises an eyebrow, chews his toothpick, hesitantly taking it from you.

He asks what he’s supposed to do with it.

You roll your eyes and tell him it’s a gift.

“I saw it and thought of you.”

Crosshair doesn’t know how to respond or react at first, being given a kind gift was never something he experienced.

You get slightly annoyed and insecure at his silence, knowing this was a dumb idea in the first place.

You quickly turn from him, mumbling under your breath that it was a stupid thought and that you’ll leave him alone, embarrassment heating your cheeks.

You avoid him all day. Why did you think he’d want a flower of all things?

When you retreat to your bunk that night, a beautifully arranged bouquet of flowers is resting on your pillow with a small note. “Thinking of you, too.”

Wrecker

He is THRILLED when you hand him over a large bouquet of flowers.

Wrecker picks you up and hugs you, almost crushing the bouquet between the two of you.

“All of these are for me?” He suddenly becomes a little sheepish, since he wasn’t expecting such a sweet gesture from you.

“They are bright and wonderful, so I thought of you when I saw them.” You smile as Wrecker’s ears turn red at your admission. He kisses you softly, thanking you for the flowers.

Wrecker places the flowers in the cockpit of The Marauder where everyone can see them, proudly and lovingly exclaiming they were from you when his brothers asked.

He keeps one flower in his utility belt, smiling all day whenever he sees it.

Tech

Tech doesn’t quite understand the gesture at first.

He inspects them, beginning to spout facts about each flower, assuming you were giving them to him for research.

You giggle, telling him they weren’t for research, just as a gift.

“What an interesting sentiment. You went out of your way to choose these just for me? To keep as a gift?” He cocked his head, the gears turning in his head.

“Ah, it’s symbolic of how you feel for me. I understand now. Thank you, my dear.”

Tech kisses you sweetly as you smile, and carefully places the flowers on his workbench to look at while he tinkers.

Tech begins a deep dive into researching flowers, analyzing your favorite colors, scents, and specific flower meanings to reciprocate the gift. He wants to give you the perfect arrangement to symbolize his affection for you in return.

He preserves the flowers you gave him so he can always be reminded of your love.

Echo

You tell Echo to close his eyes, saying you have a surprise for him.

He smiles, giving you a look, but obliges.

“Ok, open them!

He sees you holding out flowers, offering them to him. He smiles softly, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Are these for me?” He asks, gently taking them from your hand, not quite believing he deserves such a delicate and beautiful gift.

Even though you and Echo have been together for awhile, he still harbors insecurities about his body.

“I thought you might like them.” You say. “You’re always doing so much for me, you deserve something nice, too.”

Echo brings you into an embrace, not knowing how he was so lucky to have someone as special as you.

“Thank you, mesh’la. They mean a lot to me, just like you.”

Echo places the flowers in his bunk, gazing at them as you fall asleep curled up next to him.

You saw beauty in him when he didn’t, and the flowers meant more to him than you’ll ever know.

Rex

You’ve noticed Rex was stressed (more than usual) and wanted to get him something nice.

When you hand him the flowers, Rex (internally) panics.

He thinks he missed your anniversary or some other important event. Why else would you be giving him something as nice as flowers?

You can see the panic flash in his eyes, and you immediately tell him the flowers were just for fun. A gift to show him how much you love him, that’s all.

They were blue, matching his 501st colors.

Rex relaxes, now overwhelmed with feeling at the romantic gesture from you.

“You’re always thinking of me, cyare. How can I repay you?”

“I can think of a few ways. How about we start with a kiss?”

Rex smirks as he wraps you in a warm embrace, kissing you tenderly. How did you always know exactly what he needed?

He tucks one of the flowers in his breastplate, wearing your love for all to see.

💐Hehe thanks for reading!💐

Tags: @wanderer-six @the-cantina @pb-jellybeans

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my fics!

#The bad batch #the bad batch x reader #hunter x reader #echo x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #captain rex x reader #starrycatwrites #the bad batch x you #hunter tbb #wrecker tbb #tech tbb #echo tbb #the bad batch headcanons #crosshair tbb #crosshair x reader #clone force 99 #the bad batch fanfiction #captain rex

[murasaki-cha]

The Choi trio incorrect quotes

......

Choi Jung Soo: Dear friends, your Christmas gift this year… is me. That’s right, another year of friendship. Your membership has been renewed.

......

Choi Jung Gun: Accidentally indulged in too much ‘free time’, turns out I’ve been reported missing for over six months and presumed dead by most local and national authorities.

......

Choi Han: I was put on this earth to do one thing.

Choi Han: But God of Death never told me what it was so I can do whatever I want.

......

Choi Jung Soo: You know how I roll.

Choi Jung Soo: And I’m not talking about that time I fell into a pile of dung at the foot of a hill.

......

Choi Jung Gun: I’m really glad “fight me” has replaced “sue me” in the common vernacular because I don’t have money, but I do have fists and I am always angry

......

Choi Han: I don't dab. I stab.

......

Choi Jung Soo: So what’s for dinner?

Choi Han, staring at the food they just burnt: Regret.

......

Choi Jung Soo : Hey, do you know anyone who can teach me to play the trumpet?

Choi Han: Why?

Choi Jung Soo : I want to wander around playing it to annoy Choi Jung Gun .

Choi Han: Technically, you don’t actually need to know how to play the trumpet well for that.

Choi Jung Soo : Uncle, you have opened my eyes.

......

Choi Jung Soo: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside

Choi Han:

Choi Han: Choi Jung Soo, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn...

Choi Jung Soo: *Sips coffee from bowl*

......

Choi Jung Soo: Do crabs think people walk sideways?

Choi Jung Gun : ...Choi Jung Soo, what the hell.

.......

Choi Jung Soo: What’s up guys? I’m back.

Choi Han: What the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die.

Choi Jung Soo: Death is a social construct.

.......

Choi Han: The odds of this happening by coincidence are vanishingly small.

Choi Jung Gun : I would say infinitesimally.

Choi Jung Soo : And I'd say teenily-weenily. We all know words.

.......

*Choi Jung Gun and Choi Jung Soo are in a car teetering on the edge of a cliff*

Choi Jung Gun : oh my god, Choi Jung Soo, backwards!

Choi Jung Soo : Really, Choi Jung Gun? I thought I might go forwards into the river, I thought that would be a fun thing to do.

.......

Choi Jung Soo: Naturally, we are on the cutting edge of technology.

Choi Han, amazed: Wow...

Choi Jung Gun, to Choi Han: Well what does that mean?

Choi Han: I don't know.

Choi Han, to Choi Jung Soo: What does that mean?

.......

Choi Jung Gun, to Choi Han: If Choi Jung Soo doesn't say "I'm King of the world" within an hour on that boat, I will give you my next pay check.

Choi Jung Soo, within 5 minutes of getting on the boat: I'M KING OF THE WORLD!!!

.......

Choi Jung Gun: We need a distraction.

Choi Han: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?

Choi Jung Soo, whispering: My time has come

.......

Choi Jung Soo, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him

Choi Han: You did WHAT–

Choi Jung Gun: William Snakepeare

.......

Choi Jung Soo : One time I went to hand Choi Han a bowl of soup. I wanted to say “Careful, it’s hot!”, and “Here’s your soup!”, so instead I blurted out “Careful it’s soup.”

.......

Choi Jung Gun : Are you alright with constructive criticism? I don't want to sound mean.

Choi Han: No, go ahead. I want to hear it.

Choi Jung Gun : It sucks.

Choi Han: That's not constructive criticism

......

Choi Han: What happened to Choi Jung Soo?

Choi Jung Gun : They died.

Choi Han: They what?

Choi Jung Gun : They died, but they’re okay.

Choi Han: …Can you please clarify?

Choi Jung Soo : Clarification is for the weak.

......

Choi Jung Soo : Hey Choi Jung Gun, do you have any hobbies?

Choi Jung Gun : Swimming..

Choi Jung Soo : Really? That’s cool. I never expected you to-

Choi Jung Gun : In a pool of self hatred and regret.

......

Choi Han, in a high voice, holding barbie: hey ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!

Choi Jung Soo, in a deep voice, holding ken: nonsense, barbie. you’re staying home and having my kids

Choi Jung Gun: what the fuck are you guys doing?

Choi Han: playing systemic oppression

.......

Choi Han: What's a word that's a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'

Choi Jung Gun, ex author: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-

Choi Jung Soo: Smad

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of the count’s family #tcf incorrect quotes #incorrect tcf quotes #choi jung soo