#Operation Mad Ball

[audiemurphy1945]

Operation Mad Ball(1957)

#film #operation mad ball #1957 #l.q. jones #jack lemmon #richard quine #50s #old hollywood #vintage #...

[ofdetonation]

@ofgravitation​​  inquired :      🍽  ─  prepare the christmas dinner together / from ochako! he can't be THAT mad about cooking dbehdbe      ╱      christmas  time !

𝗖𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚  𝗨𝗦𝗨𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗬  𝗗𝗢𝗘𝗦𝗡'𝗧  𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦  𝗞𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗜  𝗢𝗨𝗧 .      it’s usually one of his cathartic exercises that grounds his mind and gets him to focus on the motion of the knife as he slices and chops,   the temperature in pans and woks and pots,   the sound of sizzling meats and timing it all in his head      ╱      it was one of the things he would  always  look forward to when at home,   whether it was on his own or with his parents.     around this time of year,   though ?     cooking became ...     stressful.

it’s not anyone’s fault.     the young bakugou hasn’t celebrated christmas in years and makes a point to avoid the holiday as much as possible      ⸺      it’s only become inescapable when he’s spending it with the class,   dooming him into going along with traditions,   reminding him that  nobody’s  safe from the christmas spirit.     what they didn’t know was why katsuki kept avoiding it      ╱      the stress could be too much.     not so much that he’d shut down or anything,   but enough for him to feel constantly drained,   to feel like he was dragging his feet through the mud just to try and keep up with the rush of the holiday.     it only gets worse when he  has  to do things for christmas.

as for cooking,   it would usually be an escape ...     but with ochako and himself on prep work for the upcoming christmas dinner,   there was suddenly a much larger list of things the blond needed to get done,   and that in itself was added pressure.     just the sheer  notion  was stressing him out      ╱      it’s evident in the way he’s working through all the vegetables,   gaze focusing on his cuts to make sure they’re even.     they were feeding 20 people,   not including extras like teachers or plus ones.

he doesn’t respond to ochako straight away if she tries to get his attention.     it takes a few more attempts before the blond registers that she’s  trying  to talk to him,   crimson gaze locking on hazel      ⸺      ah,   shit.

❝    what’s  that  look for ?    ❞     katsuki places the knife down and gathers the vegetables with his hands,   putting them into a bowl meant for salads ...     which he will inevitably have just a small portion on his plate next to the meat they have yet to prepare.     (  they really had a long way to go before the prep was even done      ╱      katsuki tries to hide the way it’s starting to chip away at his patience,   having to deal with the holiday,   but he persists.  )     ❝    i’m  fine,   pink cheeks.     we’re gonna smash this shit out ‘n call it a fuckin’ day.    ❞

at least he was with ochako.     that had to count for  something,   right ?

#ofgravitation #/ well he ain't mad ... he's just stressed knfbldvfkcm #💥 ⬦ ゜◝ TONGUE OPERATES FASTER THAN BRAIN. ╱ inq. #💥 ⬦ ゜◝ I AM NOBODY UNLESS I REMIND YOU I EXIST. ╱ ic. #💥 ⬦ ゜◝ HOW TO BECOME A HERO THE HARD WAY. ╱ v. i. #💥 ⬦ ゜◝ YOU’RE A SPARK‚ AND I’M THE BOOM | YOU HOLD ME LIKE GRAVITY. ╱ bond: ofgravitation (ochako). #/ they looked at him and said ''we're done making s.ato cook. ur turn'' #/ i'm not entirely thrilled with how this came out but fuck it we ball sdlnf

[pseudowho]

Operation: Babymaker-- Honeytrap/Maid Café

💜 💛 When it comes to trying for a baby, Nanami Kento always works overtime. And the reader had better be ready. 💛 💜

💜💛 You are sent undercover to a Maid Café on ovulation night, to Honeytrap a curse-user for capture and trial. Kento is pissed off, and he won't be letting anyone get away with this lightly.

💛💜Part 1 LINK HERE: A Trip to the Tailors

💛💜Part 2 LINK HERE: Benchpress

💛💜Part 3 LINK HERE: Ditch the Party...again

💛💜 Part 4 LINK HERE: Wet Dreams

Warnings: 18+ throughout, breeding kink, fertility/infertility discussion, jealous Kento, exhibitionism, use of toys

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Ships in the night.

Five days...a week...a week and a half. Kento couldn't take it anymore. The universe was conspiring against him. Against you. Work had meant you had barely shared a room together, let alone a bed. Kento hissed as he threw a file onto Yaga's desk, his neck prickling with rage...his balls heavy and untouched.

Another two months of negative tests had passed. He was still yet to see you, swollen and round with his seed. He was still yet to justifiably refuse for you to be sent on dangerous missions. His heart broke for every dribble of cum he saw trickle out of your pussy after he was finished with you.

Kento had taken to plugging you with his cock until he was ready to fuck you full of his seed again. Forcing your arse up on pillows, his cock still cushioned within you, Kento would overstimulate you with your vibrator. With you pinned and whimpering beneath him, his cock throbbing to life again inside those plush clenching walls, there was nowhere your shaking orgasms could suck his cum other than up.

Kento was obsessed. He could feel this desire to breed you becoming pathological. He read dirty doujinshi, full of x-ray panels of cocks spurting cum straight into empty wombs, soon swollen and bursting with load after load. He fisted himself with urgent strokes while reading these, your panties wrapped around his hand, moaning into your pillow with your smell, each time stopping just before he came...just in case you were to arrive home early. Which, you never did.

He cursed at the unreliability of ovulation tests, and grabbed your freshly discarded panties out of the laundry basket instead, fingering your discharge between forefinger and thumb, assessing for that egg-white stretch. You woke up more than once to a thermometer being snuck into your mouth, Kento logging your signs onto a spreadsheet, waiting for that golden ovulation algorithm to ping.

In a mad moment, he even considered buying a long syringe, so he could jack off, fill it, and then fill you with his cum while you slept, exhausted from your long days. Kento laughed at himself, horrified by such a truly insane, unthinkable notion...although...

Kento shut himself into his office, barely suppressing a groan at the thought of squirting his warm cum straight through your cervix. Kento crouched down on his haunches, cock beginning to ache and fatten, and raking his fingers through his neatly parted hair.

With a groan and a prayer, Kento pulled out his phone and messaged you. At first he was thrilled, his heart leaping with love when you text him back immediately...before the slow descent into madness began again.

Your knees. Your panties around them. Your fingers, dabbing clear, stretchy discharge between them.

Kento's cock had never stiffened so quickly in his entire life. He stood, silent. He left you on read. He couldn't possibly put thoughts as debauched as his into words, he thought, stalking through the corridors and paths of Jujutsu High until he reached his car.

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Kento arrived home with a spring in his step, listening to old, saved voicemails and voice notes you had left him, on his drive home. His cock ached, stretching against his tan trousers, weeping pre-cum. He planned to keep you up all night, but he'd graciously keep filling you, prone and sleepy (with your permission, of course), if you tapped out.

"Darling!" He called out, tossing his briefcase into the corner before slamming the door closed with his foot, "I'm home!"

Except, you weren't. He could feel that instantly, and a seed of horror sowed itself in his core, growing into something far meaner as he picked up the note you had left behind on the kitchen counter for him.

Kento's hand shook, crumpling the paper between strong fingers with a crunch.

He had had enough.

Reaching into his pocket for his phone, he dialled, waited...and spoke.

"Ijichi? Tell me where she is. Now, please."

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A brothel, barely masquerading as a Maid Café, skirting the borders of the entertainment districts and the red light districts. The usual Friday night haunt of a Curse user who had been evading capture for months. The dump where you had been sent to honeytrap him before he could escape again.

Kento had dressed to fit in, in a slim black suit and open-necked white shirt, expertly tailored, with just enough room to fit his blunt blade and harness beneath the jacket. He snaked through the dimly lit street, feeling the necking couples in alleyways, cutting through the lamp-illuminated steam billowing from noisy restaurants, until he reached some narrow stairs up, barely visible unless you knew what you were here for.

Ascending the steps, Kento could feel every curve of you on the side of his tongue, tracing your Cursed energy above the suppression of his own. He felt the Curse user, too, and Kento's face twisted into a snarl to feel such filth near you, on tonight of all nights--

"Table for one. Somewhere quiet."

The Maid demurred, smiling and simpering and barely a grown woman, Kento noted, keeping a respectful distance as she led him to his table. The lights were low enough to mute the wandering, clasping hands of the raucous tables of men. The rooms tucked to the side, bathed in red light and sin, were clearly for private commissions.

Urged into a plush corner couch, Kento turned the lamp away from himself, plunging him into shadow. He leaned back, eyes dipped low beneath dark glasses, waiting to taste you on the side of his tongue again. He accepted only a drink.

You had entered actor mode, not unfamiliar with the practice, having reeled in more than one unsuspecting Curse user over the years. In your black and white maid dress, stockings and suspenders, and tall high heels, the devilish fun of the hunt was still tainted by your lost evening with Kento.

You knew, bitterly, that you were ovulating, with sore plump breasts, that familiar low ache on one side of your belly, and your desperate need to be at home, being filled, instead of at a maid cafe trying to reel in this creep. You were doing a good job of looking like you were enjoying the feel of his cold hands creeping around your thighs. You giggled and slapped his chest when he nosed at your neck. Your new manager looked on approvingly, the new girl already raking in the customers.

Before long, you heard the other girls whispering to each other.

"--so hot, but he doesn't want anyone--"

"So what, like...he's just here for drinks? I don't get it--"

"--tried to sit on his lap and he told me I deserved better, what the hell does he mean--"

Intrigued though you were, you hardly had time to see what the ruckus was about. You were moving in for the kill, your flirtations paying off as your prey pressed a wodge of bills into the hand of the manager, and a couple of bills between your breasts.

"Let's go somewhere quiet, doll, yeah?"

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"...sir...I am sorry to interrupt your evening, sir...only, my girls have noticed that they don't seem to be to your liking. Is there anything I can do to make your visit more enjoya--"

"Your new girl," Kento offered, clipped as he interrupted. The manager raised his eyebrows, turning briefly to see you, being toyed with on the lap of another patron. The manager cleared his throat, his pocket full of a fat roll of bills, smiling awkwardly at Kento.

"I'm sorry, sir...it appears another guest has already taken a liking to--"

"How much?" Kento interrupted again, his deep, smooth voice gravitational, drawing the many wandering Maids closer to him. The manager faltered again, so Kento raised his voice, gripping his glass and swirling the bourbon within, amber in the warm distant light.

"How much," Kento enunciated, taking a long draw from his glass, with a hiss, "do you think your new girl is worth? Tell me."

The manager paused, his squirrelly little mind grasping another money-making opportunity. He offered Kento a figure. The girls jumped and squealed as Kento's hand tightened on his glass, breaking it, an audible crack in his hand.

"More," Kento pressed, dropping his glass to the table. Another figure was offered, higher this time. Kento bared his teeth, growling at the manager, leaning forwards on his knuckles as he began to stand.

"More." The manager stuttered, throwing out another, much higher figure.

"MORE." Kento roared, slamming a fist on the table, the café growing immediately silent around him. He thought he saw you try to turn your head in his direction, and a slither of violent disgust burned in his chest as he saw the Curse user grasp you to him by the neck, pressing a sloppy kiss to it.

The manager gawped at Kento, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Kento scoffed, pulling a thick stack of bills out of his pocket, passing it to one of the nearby Maids, without breaking eye-contact with the sweating manager.

"She's priceless," Kento hissed, hearing the Maids gasp behind him at the stack of bills. "So if you know what's good for you...they'll split that between them, and you will not interrupt me. Do we understand each other?"

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You held your Curse user prey by his collar, walking backwards on your heels, leading him to the red velvet room. He grinned at you, all spit and salacious, with cigarette-stained teeth, his hands wandering down to ruck up the skirt of your dress.

You pushed the door open with your heeled foot, pulling the Curse user in with you. The door swung closed behind him, and you had barely a moment to see the hulking, backlit red-spectre lying in ambush behind the door.

"Get your dirty fucking hands off my wife, or I'll snap your neck."

Picked up by the back of the collar, and tossed sideways like a ragdoll, the Curse user hit the wall beside the bed with a dull crack, out cold in under a second. Kento snatched a curtain-tie, binding the Curse-user's hands behind him. You flustered at Kento, as he stood.

"Kento-- what the hell are you doing her--"

You felt your chin gripped, firm but gentle, between Kento's thumb and forefinger. He glowered down at you, icy cold, his protectiveness frosted with jealous possession. His voice was calm, measured, manipulative.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here, little one? Dressed like that, no less...anyone would think you weren't married."

You swallowed, blushing and moving to defend yourself; "It's work, Kento, you know I--"

"--didnt mean anything by it? That it wasn't real?" Kento kept you gripped by the chin, slowly moving you back towards the high edge of the bed. You teetered on your heels, and he stabilised you, one thick arm looping around your waist, pressing you to him. You could feel the throb of his cock lengthening against your belly, and trembled.

"You're right..." Kento whispered, his breath ghosting your lips as he leaned down to trap you against the foot of the bed, caging you in, "...you couldn't possibly be satisfied by him, over me."

Kento fingered the lace edge of your stockings, the ruffled puff of your barely-there skirt. He shuddered against your lips, feeling his cock jump in his boxers.

"...seems a shame to waste this. Let's give these bastards a real show, shall we?" Kento hooked open the door with his heel, enough to hear the laughs and chatter from the café beyond.

After pressing a single, deep kiss to your lips, Kento dropped to his knees, glaring up at you in challenge. You found yourself glassy-eyed with anticipation, biting your lip, smiling as you teased the ruffles of your skirt up, to edge your lace stockings; "...do you like it?"

Kento bit, gripping you round the thighs and pressing them open with bruising force, aggressively nuzzling his face under your skirts. You squealed, laughing as he nipped and licked at you, growling against your mound and nuzzling your wafer-thin panties aside; "I love it...fuck, I love it, c'mere--"

Kento hooked your knees over his shoulders, looping his arms under your thighs to pin you against the foot of the bed. You heard a passing Maid outside your door gasp at the same time as you, at the sight of Kento kneeling and shoulder-deep in the ruffles of your skirts, your stockinged legs over his shoulders, his tongue plunging between your folds to taste you with an ecstatic moan.

"--oh god Kento-- yes yes yes please," you babbled, sinking your fingers into his hair and tugging at the roots. Kento murmured against your pussy, lubricating you with his spit, rolling his nose, tongue, and chin up and down the length of your folds, with all the fervour of a man deprived.

You heard whistles and catcalls from the café, and blushed, throwing one arm over your eyes, your pleasure building with the sloppy debauchery of Kento dipping his tongue into your entrance and nuzzling his nose firmly into your clit. He repeated this, patient, stroking his tongue over and around your clit with relentless wet flicks and sucks. When Kento gently nipped your clit between his teeth, you screamed in alarm, juddering and close to orgasm.

You clamped your thighs around Kento's head, muffling the sounds of the café around him. Reaching up two fingers, plunging them into your pussy and hooking them forwards towards him and the squashy g-spot in your cunt, Kento hooked you. Flicking his tongue from side to side over your clit, Kento chuckled against your pussy, his cock leaping within its confines.

"--in front of every-- Kento, fffuuuck please close them-- nnnngg cumming, cumming I'm cumming--"

You cried out in bliss, convulsing, gripping Kento's hair for dear life. In tandem with your twisting and mewling, you heard a chorus of cheers, hoots and clapping in the café, the men jeering and the women giggling. You shuddered, stunned, still wracked with pleasure.

"More?" Kento asked, nuzzling between your folds still, gripping you tightly to him so you couldn't clamber away across the bed. You babbled nonsense at Kento, slapping at the top of his head as his pulled his face away a little, and repeated, louder; "MORE?"

More cheers sounded from outside, and Kento grinned beneath your skirts, diving in to pleasure you again. You could barely stay upright, seeing stars, crunching around his head. The Curse-user began to stir on the floor to your right, as Kento dragged you across the coals to another stinging orgasm, so sharp after following your first so closely.

Kento came up for air to find you, flopped backwards, flushed and gasping on the bed. Slapping your thighs hard enough to make you squeak, Kento reached down and pulled you up by the back of the neck, pressing a long, familiar kiss to your lips. Tasting yourself on his mouth, you knew his next words to be true.

"Mine. Now, always, and especially-- fucking-- tonight," he emphasised each word with a brittle slap to your thigh. Flipping you over against the bed, face down and arse up, your heeled feet wobbling against the floor, Kento sighed, flipping your skirts up and admiring the view. He trailed his fingers against the top of your stockings, and the way the plush of your thighs peeped over them.

"Still no fucking baby-- and you fuck off to seduce another man tonight? The audacity," Kento purred, and you heard the clink of Kento undoing his belt behind you.

Kento was hooking his weeping, heavy cock out of his boxers just in time to see the Curse-user awaken, dazed and furious at Kento stroking his cock in preparation, over his Maid, strewn helplessly over the bed. Kento smirked, letting his Cursed-energy burst out with enough force to leave the man on the floor, and you on the bed, breathless with the stormy oppression of it.

"...you bastard-- that's my...I paid for her," the Curse user snapped, straining against his bonds. Kento laughed, bracketing you with his thick arms against the bed. His left hand grasped your left hand as he lined his aching cock up with your entrance. Kento slid your clasped hands, wedding bands clearly visible, across the sheets towards the Curse user.

"Yeah? I married her," Kento growled, kicking your heeled feet aside and fucking into you in one smooth movement, rocking his hips a few times against your cries, until he bottomed out with a roar. Kento pulled you to him by your hair, and smacked an affectionate kiss to the side of your face, before flinging you back against the velvet sheets.

He stood tall, gripping your hips to press your pussy close, and cracked his neck from side to side. He heard the enthusiastic crowd behind him, feeling a bizarre prickle of competition down his spine.

When Kento began thrusting into you with joyful abandon, you felt every vein, every throbbing ridge of him. Gripping the sheets for something, anything to stop you from being fucked up the bed, you screamed into the sheets with every hit. When you turned round to shoot Kento a blushing look of barely-sincere fury, Kento landed a stinging slap to your arse, and the Maids behind you giggled at the door.

Kento was lost in the moment, thrilled to be finally able to fill your belly, ecstatic with the knowledge that he was about to spill into you at just the right point in your cycle. His pleasure built fast, grasping your hips and slamming them back onto his cock, with rough slaps and grunts. He controlled himself for long enough to slip his hand beneath your mound, pinching and rolling your clit between his fingers while he whispered husky promises in your ear.

"--so fucking good-- waiting for me...haaah yes, take it-- good girl-- fuck a baby into you tonight-- you want that? Hmm? Is this-- is this it-- is this the--the one...fuck, not gonna last, cum with me, c'mon, please--"

Kento reached over you, his hand grasping you by the neck and jaw, craning your head backwards. He thought he'd be able to last, but when you sucked his forefinger into your mouth, your wet little tongue rolling over the pad as you suckled on it, Kento came with a slew of curses, a rough, alarmed bark.

Wildly overstimulated, you clenched around Kento as he pumped thick ropes of cum into you, feeling him tense and groan against your back with the blinding force of his orgasm. He continued to roll your clit, plugging you and panting until you came with a shaky little cry, your pussy tightening and sucking at his cock until he shivered with residual bliss.

Panting, coming down from your respective highs, you and Kento both turned to look at the Curse user on the floor. A noisy round of applause rang in from the café and you laughed despite yourself, wiggling against Kento.

"Lucky bastard..." the Curse user whined into the rug, "Piece of...piece of shit...should have been me--"

"Fuck off," rumbled Kento, "you're lucky you're not dead. Save it for trial."

You felt Kento rummaging in his pocket behind you. As he slipped his softening cock out of you, you squealed to find yourself hurriedly filled with a dildo, plugging you all the way to your belly. You groaned against the sheets, squirming, and Kento flipped your skirts down.

"...do you want to finish your shift?" He offered, voice full of mirth. You kicked back at him with one heeled foot as he laughed.

"If this is the one that gets us pregnant, I'll kill you."

#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #kento nanami x y/n #nanami headcanons #nanami x #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami smut #nanami #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #cw exhibitionism #tw exhibitionism #pseudowho

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I suspect it's something to do with the boop coding, but 90% of the posts on my dash are suddenly being attributed to one of three Tumblr users: @thickness-protection-program, @aardvaark, or @running-in-the-dark. The profile pics of the actual post authors aren't changing, nor the links to the real blogs. And yet. 90% of my mutuals, to my unsettled eyes, seem to suddenly be doing the April Fools digital equivalent of the whole court gathering around me at a masquerade ball, each wearing one of three trickster god masks, while I desperately try to discern who's who by looking at their shoes (i.e. their particular brand of hyper fixating madness to which I am accustomed.)

Not sure if these three users are a triple-aspect trickster deity during normal operations. The greatest irony is that I've never interacted with any of them. Hello you three. Nice to meet your URLs.

#why tumblr why

[tf-lover]

Masquerade Madness

A little fun organised by @bodyswapmischief, and one of the only celebrity tf's I'll probably ever write! Enjoy the masquerade!

~~~

The idea of a masked ball was, at least in theory, the type of event Henry should enjoy. He was a famous actor, used to being in the public eye and in front of a camera. Only, he was dreading it. His agent had signed him up to attend, and as much as he could put on the charismatic face for the press, half the time he would rather be at home than at another event. Reading, video games and even stuff like Warhammer, the star had always been a not so secret nerd. He always had eyes on him though no matter where he was or who he was with. As much as he loved his craft, it was times like this he felt like a break for a night.

That's where Kade came in. He often acted as security for Henry, so they knew each other well. For the last several years at various events and on the occasional filming set he'd been Henry's personal bodyguard; the two had become fast friends. Kade was the stereotype of the rough bodyguard too; bearded and tattooed with closely shaved hair, one look told you almost everything you needed to know.

“What I wouldn't do for a night off you know?” Henry said once he emerged from the bathroom after a shower. “Feels like I never get any time to myself anymore.”

Kade, who would be driving Henry to the event and accompanying him inside, nodded in agreement. “I know man, I get you. It's a hard job being loved and thirsted over by so many people.” There was a hint of teasing in Kade’s tone, one only he could get away with. 

Henry rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the slight smirk on his lips. “Yeah yeah, I know. I'm thankful for everything I have, don't get me wrong. I just… I don't know.”

“Well, what if I said Henry Cavill can still show up at this event and you can take a bit of a break for the night?” Kade had a hint of mischief in his eyes when Henry turned to face him. “You don't get it, I know dude. New tech in the industry.”

“Out with it Kade, what on earth are you going on about?” Henry folded his arms and frowned, more confused than anything else. 

Kade pulled a small circular device out of one of his pockets and held it up. It was no bigger than his palm and had what looked like a scanner of some sort on either side. Other than that though it was sleek high-tech, giving away no extra information on what its purpose was. 

“Military tech they ended up not using and selling off. Was meant for covert undercover operations so I'm told. The two of us use this to switch bodies, then I go to the party as you and you can just chill at my side. How's that sound?”

Henry… didn't know what to make of that. It was absurd, it had to be. It was like the plot of one of the movies he'd find himself in, not real life. Yet, there was something in Kade’s eyes that said he wasn’t bullshitting. Henry knew Kade well enough to know when he was joking around, and this wasn’t even close to one of those times. 

“I know it’s a lot to take in man, but think about it.” Kade said as the other man spent a moment processing the information. “You don't have to ‘turn on’ that public persona people expect and can just vibe as me. You know security at these things is airtight even without some of the personal guards like me there, you'll have it easy.”

Henry was silent another moment before responding. “You know what? Alright, let's try it.” He gave Kade a small smile before holding a hand out. “How does this work then? Do we just-”

Kade stepped closer and smacked the device he was holding down into Henry's outstretched palm before the celebrity could finish his sentence. A jolt passed through both as their hands came into contact with the plastic surface, now fully activated with two participants. In less time than it took either to blink, Henry and Kade found the world around them suddenly shifted. Where Henry had been standing in a bathrobe and mentally preparing himself for another evening at another public event, now he found himself looking back at that very same face. The one he was used to seeing in the mirror now stood opposite him with an uncharacteristic smirk. 

“Having fun there Kade?” Henry said when he saw his own smirking face. The voice that came from his mouth being a different one was definitely odd, but seeing himself was moreso.

Kade in Henry’s body laughed. “I was going to say the same to you Kade, since I’m fairly sure I’m the world famous Mr Henry Cavill right now.” Kade turned back to the bathroom and went to the mirror, running his hands over his new face. He knew this one well of course from films and working with Henry, but he never believed he’d actually get a chance to see it looking back at him. “Man, every time I’ve done this and it’s still fucking wild.” He said to himself.

Henry had followed his own body to the bathroom and watched as his bodyguard inspected Henry’s own handsome features. The strong, stubbled jaw, piercing eyes and just the faintest hint of chest hair that poked out of the robe he’d been wearing after the shower. Like anyone, Henry could really understand why Kade was so fascinated with being one of the hottest actors on the planet.

“Oh, you probably haven’t noticed yet dude, have you?” Kade stepped back from the mirror and turned to face himself. “Something different you haven’t spotted, should have mentioned it before really but I didn’t want you to freak out about it.”

Henry frowned. He didn’t know what Kade was going on about, and he was on the verge of saying as much when Kade did something he didn’t expect. He pulled off the bathrobe and dropped it to the floor, letting Henry get a good look at his ripped, naked body in all its glory. His mouth went dry. Objectively he knew he was attractive, he always had since being in such a public position, but now he could really feel it. Kade’s familiar smirk was plastered now over Henry’s features as the man flexed and gave his chest a squeeze, all with a look in his eyes that said he knew exactly what he was doing. 

“See, one thing they discovered is sexuality and attraction is mostly tied to your body.” Kade started to explain as he kept teasing and running his hands down over Henry’s hairy chest and stomach. “So right now you’re as gay as I usually am. Once you’ve been doing this long enough you learn to be able to ignore the physical sexuality, but for a newbie like you…” Kade’s eyes flicked down to the obviously hard bulge between Henry’s legs. “Sorry to say you’ll have to be alright relaxing as a gay dude today.”

“Y-Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fine…” Henry mumbled whilst he couldn’t take his eyes off himself. “Guess I can see what everyone means for myself now. Are you always this attracted to me?”

Kade nodded. “Yeah, I mean who isn’t? But just like you don’t go getting hard over every attractive girl you see, it’s just the same.” He shrugged. “You learn to control yourself. Working with you is just business, not like I’m going to go over any boundaries that would be inappropriate.”

The mention of inappropriate boundaries sent other thoughts running through Henry’s mind. Thoughts of things he could do with men he’d never been interested in before, thoughts of things he could do with his own body. His cheeks flushed a brilliant pink for a moment before he shook his head; he had to get himself back under control. He was usually calm and collected, even if he was in Kade’s body and gay that didn’t give him an excuse to be ogling another man. Even if was technically his body he was getting an eyeful off and Kade was freely showing it off, it still didn’t feel appropriate. 

“You should umm, get dressed Henry. You’ve got a party to get to, right?” Henry said in an attempt to deflect from the new stuff he was feeling. They’d made this swap for a reason, so he could have a night off and still make an appearance, so the sooner they got on with that the better. “Suit is in the bedroom.”

Kade let out a short laugh and a nod. “You’re right of course Kade. I’ll get myself dressed and ready to go, then you can drive me to the event okay?” Kade in Henry’s body turned and walked off in the direction he knew the actor’s bedroom was, all the while giving Henry a good long look at his muscular ass cheeks and how they flexed as he moved away.

~~~

It wasn’t long until the pair were ready and on their way to the party.

Kade had got all dressed up in Henry’s suit for the evening, including a custom made black mask by some designer he couldn’t remember the name of. He pulled the whole thing off well. Henry knew he would, after all he’d tried the whole outfit on days ago to make sure it all fit properly, but he hadn’t expected to be the one on this side of things. To be the one sat in the driver's seat of the car when he’d taken them both to the event.

Or to be the one trying not to look at how fucking hot hs own body looked in the suit his agent had picked out with the designers. Being gay because of the swap left him feeling all sorts of things, but chief among them was an undeniable attraction to himself. It was fucked up he knew that, but the drive over followed by silently following behind up the red carpet only hammered that nail down into the metaphorical coffin. Henry thought he was hot as fuck, just like many other gay fans had made clear, now he was almost one of them.

Kade didn’t make it any easier either. He showed just how good at his job he was as he smiled to the cameras, spoke to the occasional reporter and all round pulled off an incredibly convincing Henry Cavill. There were small things that only Henry could notice being off, but to anyone else they’d have no reason to believe he wasn’t himself as the pair made their way inside. And Henry really was getting a taste of the flip side of all this; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d walked down a red carpet and been as completely and utterly ignored as he was in Kade’s body. It was like he wasn’t even there. People moved around him like nothing, cameras flashed over his shoulders to capture anyone and everyone that wasn’t him; he was invisible. 

The whole evening was more of the same for Henry. Or, for Kade as he made sure to introduce himself to a handful of the other security guards dotted around for other celebrities. It was strange at first, but the more he stood around chatting the more he felt like it was refreshing not to be recognised or idolised. He didn't have to “switch on” into his public facing actor mode like he'd been talking to Kade about earlier in the day, he could be his comfortable, relaxed self. All the while he watched from a distance as the real Kade in Henry's body danced and chatted and ate. All the things he should be doing but often found to be the exhausting part of being an actor. 

“So, how are you finding things Kade? No issues with security?” The real Kade said later on in the evening when they got a spare moment together. Just a high profile celeb checking in with his security, that was all it looked like. 

Henry nodded. “Yes Mr Cavill, all good on my end. I hope you’re having a pleasant evening?” It wasn’t hard to play the role of security guard for Henry, he was an actor after all. 

“Yes yes, of course. All good fun events like these are, as you well know. And this suit is nice, makes me look good doesn’t it?” Something about the way Kade spoke with Henry’s voice was different to before. Lower, more heated. Maybe it was just to be heard over the crowd of people, but it didn’t feel like that quite. It felt like… more. “I’ve seen your eyes on me this evening Kade, and I want you to know I understand. Being so close can’t be easy on a night like tonight for you, if you catch my drift. One night, get it out of your system, if you think that would help?”

Henry couldn’t believe his ears. Kade, his long-term, always professional bodyguard, was suggesting something so… so sordid. This was a side of Kade he didn’t show for the sake of keeping to the job, but now something was crackling between them. Henry could feel it, a palpable tension in the air that he realised had probably been there since they first swapped earlier. 

“You, You’re still gay, aren’t you.” Henry stated, since he already knew the answer. “You’ve done this enough that even in my body you’re still attracted to men… like I am right now as you.”

“That’s right Kade. As of this moment Henry Cavill is currently as gay as it gets, whether we’re talking about his body or his mind.” Kade said in that same low voice that Henry could now hear was dripping with arousal. Not one he ever imagined he’d be on this side of, or getting this turned on by either. “I get this is crossing a boundary between us, but I also get the sense that’s a boundary you’d rather like to cross right now, isn’t it?”

All Henry could do was silently nod his agreement. Since the swap earlier that evening he hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind. If he was a stronger person maybe he could have held back and kept things professional, but then wasn’t the whole reason he had agreed to this swap in the first place because he was tired of always having to put on the professional face? Always serving the public and never himself; maybe it was time that changed. 

“Let’s get out of here Henry, I think for your safety you should let me take you home, there’s been a few suspicious characters at this party looking at you a little too closely for my liking.” Henry slipped himself back into the bodyguard role and smirked at Kade as he spoke; if this was his once chance to really experience this before it was over he wasn’t going to waste it. 

~~~

An hour later, Henry was on his back getting his ass absolutely destroyed by his own cock. 

“Yes, fuck me Henry!! Nnnghhh… oh fucking hell bro I never thought a celebrity could fuck so good!” Henry held onto Kade’s shoulders and let his moans freely fill the room, though right now it was hotter to imagine himself as Kade. To imagine for a moment that he wasn’t Henry Cavill having swapped bodies, he was this bodyguard finally getting fucked by the star he’d been protecting. 

Kade, or Henry as he too found it hot to think of himself as, was much in the same boat. “Yeah Kade? Can’t believe I haven’t been fucking men until now, I’ve been missing out!” The current Henry shouted as he fucked down into the hole around his cock. He’d swapped with many celebrities in the past, but never had it landed him in an outcome as hot as this one. He was Henry fucking Cavill! The one and only, and with the former Henry getting so into addressing Kade by the name that matched his body it was easy to get lost in that fantasy. 

The two kept going in that same rhythm long into the evening. Henry had fully embraced being Kade the bad boy bodyguard, so much so that when the former Kade above him moaned that name in his ear it didn’t feel at all wrong. It felt right. Liberating even. He wasn’t anyone in the public eye, he was someone completely invisible to them. And had one of the hottest celebrities on the planet cumming in his ass all night like an absolute beast. The new Henry had skills he never thought possible, the new Henry above him could do all the public stuff and fuck like the king Hollywood saw him as. It was giving him ideas already for their future…

~~~

2 years later…

Henry and Kade hadn’t looked back since that first swap. 

The evening they spent together riding and sucking and fucking was one of the hottest either man had experienced. Enough so that the real Henry asked if Kade could make his body gay when they swapped back. He could, it turned out, leave his lingering sexuality in Henry’s body and corrupt it to be gay instead of straight. 

Not that Henry spent a whole lot of time in his own body as it was anymore. 

For filming and such he still stayed as himself, but that was about it. He still loved to act more than anything and didn’t want to give that up. But besides when he was on a job, Henry spent all his time as Kade instead. The name Henry had even started to feel slightly odd to him now he spent almost all his time as Kade the tattooed stud. It was far more relaxing than being his old self, and the pair made enough money to support them both just using Henry. The old Henry would do the acting, then the new permanent Henry would take over and spend the rest of the time doing all the publicity and stuff. Kade, as the former star now thought of himself, was more than happy to let his boyfriend take the spotlight when he was overall better at it than Kade had ever been. 

The new and improved Henry had even gone to the lengths of coming out of the closet and introducing the world to his boyfriend Kade. If only they all knew the reality of the situation, but that was only for them. Henry Cavill, lost lusted after by gay men the world over, was now officially part of the gay community too, and it had sent fans into a frenzy. 

Kade had got used to thinking of himself as a gay man now though. It was why he’d asked his boyfriend to make sure his old body was still gay when he used it for filming. Going back to being his old straight Henry Cavill self when he was filming had weirded him out for all of 48 hours before letting it get fixed up so he was gay regardless of which body he was in. 

He loved his new easier life away from all the rapid publicity, and loved his soon to be husband even more for giving him this life accidentally. One last public affair to give the new Henry Cavill the proposal he deserved, then he would really be done with the exhausting side of his old life.

#MarchMasquerade #male transformation #body swap #my writing #straight to gay

[white-poppie]

Healing ★ ft. jjk men (Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Toji)

synopsis: how the jjk men help you heal from your fears and worries

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

The way your heart jumps to your throat at Geto-sama cursing out some damn 'monkey' is almost pitiful. Its cruel, the way he is gritting his teeth, the way his voice booms in the echoing chambers

Suguru's rage, its not even directed at you. But his voice is a bit too loud for your liking. Till it overpowers any other voice in your surroundings and sends your mind into an overdrive.

A numbing buzz echoes in the cortex of your brain and you feel a familiar heat behind your eyes.

It claws at you, your bottom lip trembling in the storm you get caught until a soft warmth holds your shoulders.

You look in front, met by scrunched eyebrows, that furrow in concern, pale lips parted in concern.

"Angel?" the storm says, his breath caught in his lungs. But he's cruel alright? Relentless, but the storm calms. He turns into soft gusts around you. Suguru cups your face in his hands, thumb caressing the apple of your cheeks.

"You okay?" he asks quietly and you nod softly.

"What happened? You zoned for quite a bit there, scared me there, angel."

""s nothing, I just got a little startled when you...spoke a little loudly." you say and his eyes soften, pale lips pressing on your temple.

"Sorry angel, I should've been more careful around you, it's my fault, but you gotta know my anger could never be directed towards you," he murmurs, brushing his hand through your hair.

A storm indeed, but Suguru is your breeze on an autumn afternoon.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

You listen intently to Satoru as you both sit on the dinner table. He goes on about his day, the way he was a pain in the ass for the higher-ups again. You chuckle and take a sip from the glass next to your plate, but your fingers lose their grip on the glass as it falls down, shards scattering on the marbled floor. Your eyes widen and silence crashes down in the living area, your breathing fastens and you don't even dare look back at Gojo.

"I am sorry- I am so sorry, I'll clean it up." You say letting out a rictus laugh as you lean down to haphazardly pick up the glass shards, your hands trembling like having just come from the shower on a winter day.

Bending down you pick up the shards with your bare fingers and Satoru's eyebrows furrow at your behaviour.

"Y/N, sweetheart you are gonna prick yourself with those shards." He says but his words cease to travel the vacuum you have built around yourself.

Gojo kneels to your level and grabs your wrist, feeling your erratic pulse under his fingers, the shiver of your limbs, you look similar to a dog under a firework show and his chest hurts.

"Sweetheart relax, you'll hurt yourself," he says softly, terrified, even more than you possibly. He is so scared of scaring you. He is so scared of making it worse. You take in a sharp breath and nod lightly.

"Let me get the dust-pan and broom this," he whisper softly, leaving you between the constellation of the shards, your thoughts, coiled into an unforgiving a ball, only broken when he walks back, kneeling beside you, gently dusting the pieces into the pan as he looks at you with a smile.

"There, all done," he says and searches into your eyes for a reaction. The faint cinkle in them shouts, 'you are not mad at me?' It’s so obvious from the watery look on your face.

“I am not mad, sweetheart, I could never be mad at you” He affirms and smiles. His hands, move to brush your hair gently, reaffirming it.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

You hate this. You hate how stupid this scanning ticket-check system makes you feel. It makes you feel like a boomer, a hobo if you might as you struggle with getting the scan done. Its not even then fact you can't operate it. You can easily operate it, but there's people behind you, waiting, groaning all the the while your hands tremble in mortification.

Beep. Denied

Beep. Denied.

Beep. Denied again

It was never ending, the machine kept on denying your effort and you could swear you heard someone in the line behind you groan.

"Here, let me," a voice interjects and you look up at Nanami, his eyes softening at the sight of your flushed face as he gently takes the ticket from you and gets it scanned...oh so it was this way. You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment, wanting to cry out of anxiety.

You feel Nanami's arm against your lower back as it curls around your waist, walking a few steps ahead with you, his embrace blocking any extraneous factors that trouble you.

"You okay, love?" he inquires softly, his thumb rubbing circles on your spine.

"I feel stuped Ken'" you mumble your voice cracking.

“You are one of the smartest people I know, y/n” he coos slightly, “you just got overwhelmed, even the best of us get overwhelmed sometimes and that’s alright.” He says, caressing your shoulder gently.

“There’s a lot of things you can do that I can’t.”

“Like?”

“Hmmm….like being this effortlessly cute all the time.” He chuckles and kisses your forehead.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

Toji Fushiguro was one of those men who had not an ounce of gentleness in them. Those hunter eyes of his that never softened at anything. Its not his fault, its just the way he looks. He can't help it.

The thing about Toji is that he snores while sleeping and yet somehow even with those deep snores, his sleep is restless.

So when he grumbles and opens his eyes to your dry sobs, scrunched eyebrows and spasmodic body. He jolts awaken.

The thing with Toji is that he hates his sleep being disturbed, but what he hates even more is seeing you in despair, seeing you suffer like that.

"Y/N, wake up, you are having a nightmare," he says, softly nudging you with his scarred hands. You jolt awake and turn to him, your eyes blurry, your cheeks wet, and your lips parted for an aborted sob.

Toji's heart drops to his stomach at the visual. He sits up straight and his arms instantly come up to pull you to his chest.

"Ssh, what did you dream about baby?" he asks, letting you nuzzle into him and get comfortable as his hands softly caress your back, his warm palm running up and down, heating your cold body.

You sigh against his chest and shake your head, "Just had a dream that you left me..." You say and he sighs, resting his chin on your head

"Such stupid dreams my baby has," he says calmly, his deep voice rumbling in a low purr. "How could I ever leave you?"

© white-poppie 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or translate without permission. do not claim work or layout as yours.

"Of Vengeance and Ashes” -> BUY NOW!!!! [Synopsis: Read full synopsis HERE ... The year is 1759, London. Shakespeare’s new estate is set on fire by Reverend Francis Gastrell. History repeats itself, 250 years later when Luna Gastrell stands in turmoil due to her ancestry taking a sinister turn. A ploy of vengeance, illusions, betrayals, blooming romance and morally conflicting measures, and the cards lie in favour of none.] I am a 16-year-old author who needs support, I assure you it won't disappoint! It's okay if you don't buy, it would be enough to share the link with someone else who might be interested! I humbly request you support my career as a child author by purchasing my book. This would help me to write more books in future!

Also Check out: L'appel du vide (✔️) (Synopsis: Your husband, Hanma Shuji is dead! With no memories of what transpired two days before his death, you team up with Tachibana Naoto, Chifuyu Matsuno, Ryuguji Ken and Mitsuya Takashi, you go on a journey full of betrayals and twists. Can you find out what really happened to your husband? )

— JUJUTSU KAISEN - Fanfictions

TAGS: @akumicchi, @rintaroubby @nanaseishiro @cleaningfairylevi, @buttercupspotify, @euphoricbi @ynjimenez

﹒ Taglist   (lmk in the comments in case you wanna be added and the link doesn't work!)

#⎯𝒿𝒿𝓀⋆ #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto x you #geto x y/n #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #kento nanami #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #toji fushiguro #toji x reader

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I was wondering at what point do you think the Sussex’s reached the point of no return, and when the actually penny dropped for H and M (actually do you think he realises that somethings are literally unforgivable even now.) Obviously we probably know a small fraction of what was happening behind the scenes, and the beloved son making a new life is studiously polite, even if many think KC3 would have his son back in an instant.

So it's a few things for me. I think the Oprah interview and Philip's funeral got the ball rolling; the Platinum Jubilee was the "make or break" moment; and The Queen's funeral was when the penny dropped.

Here's the long version...

First, the Oprah interview and Philip's passing/funeral. Here's a super quick timeline of what happened:

2/16/21: Philip enters hospital to receive treatment for an infection.

2/20/21: Charles is papped leaving Philip's hospital looking upset and very emotional.

2/28/21: First promotions of the Sussexes' interview with Oprah debut in the US.

3/1/21: Philip is transferred to a different hospital to receive treatment for his heart condition. Paparazzi photos of him being transferred via ambulance are published, immediate criticism.

3/3/21: Philip has a heart operation. Palace says it went well.

3/5/21: Philip goes back to the first hospital. Meghan tells people she thinks the palace is making up or using Philip's health to silence them and keep them from releasing the Oprah interview.

3/7/21: Oprah interview broadcasts in the US.

3/8/21: Commonwealth Day Service; Oprah releases new clips cut from the final edit of the broadcast; the interview is broadcast in the UK.

(This is just a small piece of what was happening in those days. There was a ton of other stuff going on too.)

I think Meghan leaking to her friends, who talked to reporters, that they don't think Philip is as ill as the Palace reports was the beginning of the end for them. Okay, so maybe the palace wasn't keeping Harry fully updated on everything that was happening as it happened, but the signs were all there that it was a serious hospitalization.

(And I do believe that that leak about Philip's health is why Harry flew immediately to Charles after the King's cancer diagnosis. Karma served him hard with their public on-the-record denials of how ill Philip and The Queen were so now Harry wanted to do the right thing and go see for himself what was really happen.)

Then there's the whole Oprah interview altogether, which many in the firm - family members and courtiers alike - didn't receive well. Using today's measure of "Piers is what Camilla thinks," then if he was hopping mad over it, then she and the family were hopping mad.

Then Philip died and the way the Sussexes behaved - among them: Harry preempting much of the family with his statement about Philip, Harry's demand to wear his uniform, Harry dicking up the procession, Meghan telling everyone the flowers on Philip's casket were from her, Harry allegedly confronting William and Kate about the Oprah interview, the Sussexes using the family walk for olive branch PR, and (if Harry is to be believed) the Harry-Charles-William peace summit in the Frogmore gardens after the funeral - was the final nail in the coffin about what privileges or support the Sussexes would get from the BRF.

Especially when you consider that on February 19, 2021, the Palace announced that the Sussexes had declined to return and the one-year trial/review was terminated as of March 31st. So on April 9th when Philip passed away and the Sussexes began asserting precedence and privilege, they had no right to any of it. They were non-working royals, bottom of the totem pole.

(Then seven weeks later was the whole Lilibet fiasco and we all know how that went.)

I think the Sussexes' behavior and attitude around Philip's funeral, plus the Lilibet debacle (which we didn't fully learn about until after The Queen passed) directly led to certain decisions for the Platinum Jubilee, which became the "make or break" moment for everyone, not just the Sussexes.

The Sussexes saw the Platinum Jubilee as their chance to relaunch and rebrand as royals because they needed the royal glow to make their soon-to-be-released projects successful and well-received. The firm saw the Platinum Jubilee as a chance to rein the Sussexes in to their new status as "family members" vs "royals."

And, well, we know what happened at the Platinum Jubilee:

The Sussexes were kept away from the Cambridge family.

They weren't allowed in the Trooping carriages and the Trooping balcony.

They weren't invited to the Trooping rooftop party with the rest of the family or to the cousins' lunch afterwards.

They were scheduled to take the "Minor Royals Motorcoach" to the service of thanksgiving.

They were booed on arrival (and departure) at the service of thanksgiving.

They weren't included in the official procession with Charles and the Cambridges.

They were seated on the other side away from the working royals and demoted to the inside of the second or third row "after" Beatrice and Eugenie, instead of being on the aisle.

They were not invited to the post-service of thanksgiving guildhall reception/luncheon and had to do the walk of shame to the car by themselves. (Hence the boos.)

No one went to Lili's birthday party.

Meghan didn't get her "Lili meets Lili" picture with The Queen and Lili.

The Sussexes knew it was game over for them from there. The Platinum Jubilee wasn't the "make it" moment they needed and they didn't get anything they wanted. We know they got nothing they wanted because they threw a hissy fit and left early than planned, suggesting they felt very snubbed.

So I think that was the point of no return as far as the firm was concerned - if the Sussexes could behave themselves at the jubilee and the public was accepting of their presence, then the firm could've worked with them. But the Sussexes didn't behave (Meghan's photo stunt with Peter and Zara's girls, missing their pick-up for the service of thanksgiving, and Meghan's stunt rolling down the car window after a whole fuss about security) and the public made their feelings very, very clear.

I think the Sussexes were probably in denial with how badly the jubilee went, and that's why the interviews Meghan did later that summer were bitter and venomous towards the royal family. I also think the way they were treated at the jubilee weekend also informed some of the things they did and said in the Netflix docuseries as well.

So while the Sussexes were fully aware that they were out after the jubilee (I don't remember now who said it, but there's the famous quote "You never really know if you're in with the royal family, but if you're out, you definitely know") I don't think they understood the impact of what being "out" meant, though. I think they thought they could continue using the BRF for PR as they always did and that The Queen/Charles would always welcome them back with open arms because that's what they always did.

Which is what led to the penny dropping with The Queen's passing and funeral. It's clear that Harry thought he'd be given precedence and priority as The King's Son. which didn't happen. He made demands for it, still didn't happen. He tried to take it by force with the Netflix walkabout, still didn't happen. He caused a PR ruckus to get the public to demand it, it still didn't happen.

I do fully believe Harry was grieving at The Queen's funeral and her committal service. But I believe he was grieving the loss of his royal status a bit more than the loss of his grandmother that day, judging by his body language throughout the day. He knew it was all over then and there, and that bitterness came through in his interviews for Spare, when he demanded that the BRF needed to apologize first and his "they know what they did" comments.

I kind of feel like Harry saw the coronation as a test, where he felt "If I go and they treat me well, it'll all be fine but if I go and they treat me horribly, I'm never coming back again." And, well, the latter happened and he went straight from Westminster Abbey to the airport to go home, which was as big a tantrum as the one they pitched at the jubilee to leave early. And if Charles hadn't announced his cancer diagnosis, or if he didn't have cancer at all, I feel pretty confident saying we wouldn't have seen Harry in London until the May service of thanksgiving for Invictus Games.

#ask #brf #sussexes #in this essay i will

[fatuismooches]

Ohhhh vulnurable Dottore 😶 What if this is a moment when he realises he can't heal us? He's trying and trying and trying, using all accessible methods (smt questionable and anti-sciense) but n o t h i n g works, there is no way to make us feeling better. And a new reality breaks him down, this is his breaking point.

But you're a sweet, lovely soul, you understand everything and never blame him for failures. When he's crying all you can do is holding and kissing him.

(uhhh finally I'm brave enough to reveal myself haha 😬 I was that anon with several Pantalone's hcs about him speaking French and a reader changing their ring to simple one 🙈)

The crashes that came from Dottore's private lab were so loud it probably echoed throughout the entirety of the whole research building. And it wasn't the sound of an experiment gone wrong exploding, or something fell down by accident, or perhaps some screaming, no. It sounded like something was being forcefully destroyed, on purpose too at least with how much crashing and banging there was. And you just had a horrible feeling about it.

You were right.

You didn't even bother knocking on the door, instead just shoving it open before you called out his name, although you cut yourself off when you saw the state his lab was in. It was a dreadful mess. There wasn't one thing that hadn't faced his frightening strength. The desk and bookshelves had tumbled to the ground, the chairs had been snapped in half... somehow, but considering his power that shouldn't be surprising. Even the operating tables were damaged, glass on the floor from the breaking of his tools and capsules. On the floor, you could read all of the documents scattered around, at least the ones that weren't torn to shreds. The books from the toppled bookshelf? All dedicated journals to your condition over the years. The photos on the floor? Pictures of your body, internally and externally. The random bottles on the floor? Prototype medicines that didn't work with your body. And all at the center of it was your husband. Dottore. Or rather Zandik, as you called him when it was just the two of you. His back was turned to you as he didn't seem to acknowledge the mess around him or even you. You slowly walked towards him, your heart already hurting as you were pretty sure you knew what this was all about.

"Zandik, look at me, please." Dottore's fingers twitched at your words, but then he balled them up, not able to bring himself to face you. You had no choice but to walk in front of him instead. "Zandik, I-" you paused abruptly when you saw his face. Zandik was crying.

He was like a statue. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He didn't sob. He merely looked at you, tears gliding down his cheeks completely unmoving and expressionless. You were speechless. In all your centuries of being with Dottore, you had never seen him cry. You've seen him genuinely happy, genuinely mad, genuinely sad - but never any tears, not even remotely. But here he was crying in front of you anyway... because of you.

The state his office was in was surely no state for you to comfort him, not with the chairs and desks toppled and in shambles... so you silently took his balled hand in yours and peeled away his fingers, allowing you to hold his hand. You led him to his own room (which was connected to his own lab, you know he can't be separated from his research) and he followed you, this time not putting up a fight. You two sat down on his bed and you immediately pulled him against your chest, holding him. Dottore remained unmoving for a bit, until he reciprocated and wrapped his arms around you carefully, as if you would disappear at any second. It was a very silent moment, as neither of you said anything for a long time. And well... it was kind of a learning experience for you too. You couldn't do much besides this but... you hoped it helped. But you needed to say something too...

"Zandik," you murmured, pulling him away from your chest which was only damp now, it seemed like he stopped crying a while ago. Though he still had that empty expression on his face. You reached to take off his mask but his arm quickly grabbed yours before you could even touch it. Ah, of course, he didn't want you to see him. He didn't even want you to know about this in the first place, probably. But that simply wouldn't do. "Zandik," you repeated again, "let me see you. Please," your fingers glossed over his cheek tenderly. "It's only me here, you know," the metal of your wedding ring felt cold against his skin, "And I'm not going to give up or leave, love." You hoped the look in your eyes read - it's okay to be vulnerable, Zandik. Please just be you when you're with me. The Harbinger gritted his teeth and held your waiting arm a little harder, as your other one came to cup his cheek. It wasn't easy to break him down, but eventually, he reluctantly let you go.

You took the mask off and set it to the side, focusing on your lover's expression. His eyes always told so much. And this time, they looked very, very tired. Though even still, his gaze was cast off to the side. But, this time you wouldn't force him. Dottore still acted high and mighty even in his lesser moments. He didn't like being seen like this. He was supposed to be the Doctor, the one who controls the game and has all the power. Not a vulnerable boy who was the opposite, who could have anything in the world except this one thing - your cure.

"It's alright," you whispered, kissing his forehead. "I'm alright." You kissed the corners of his eyes this time, a tiny bit red from crying. "Okay?" This time you went for his lips, and although he took a few seconds to reciprocate, he slowly kissed you back. As if he would never be able to kiss you again, neither of you let go. "There's no need to worry, I'm here," you combed your fingers through his hair. "I know that no matter what happens, I'll be next to you. I love you." Dottore didn't respond nor did he look at you. But he heard it. And he crept his hand under your shirt as he placed his fingers above your heart, counting the beats. His way of reassuring himself you were still alive. And for now, that was enough.

A part of you wanted to apologize. Apologize for putting this burden on him. If only you... were not you. If you could be someone else, then Dottore wouldn't have to invest so much into you. You know he loves and adores you how you are but- you know it's not the time to go down into those thoughts. Instead, all you need to do right now is comfort your beloved. Make him know that you see him. You love him. You accept him. You believe in him. And that regardless of all the failures he may endure, nothing would ever make you love him any less.

...

UM HI HELLO. Thank for this idea omggg i went through all stages of pain 😭 AND YOU WROTE THOSE OTHER HCS TOO?? Gosh you have such *chef's kiss* amazing ideas I LOVE THEM !!

#smooches talks #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #this fucked me up but in a good way thank youuu 😭 (i'm crying)

[rel312]

I HAD NO IDEA SEASON 2 CAME OUT ALREADY SO NOW IM GOING TO SCREAM ABOUT IT

Episode 1:

CROWLEY WANTED TO TAKE AZIRAPHALE BACK TO THE PLACE THEY FIRST MET

CROWLEY PROTECTED AZIRAPHALE FIRST IM SCREAMING

(My brother actually came into my room to tell me to shut up)

Of course Aziraphale would just forgive 8 months rent

Lmao Gabriel’s just walking down the street ass naked

Gabriel just hugged Aziraphale I can’t

“James. Long for Jim, short for Gabriel”

Crowley knows Aziraphale so well, but poor guy he only calls him for 3 reasons

Poor Crowley is trying so hard not to freak out about the “naked man friend”

The conversation between Crowley and Jim I can’t

Maggie and Nina are trapped together!!

Michael and Uriel are fighting let’s gooo

Crowley just casually let the girls out lmao

THERES AN I WAS WRONG DANCE OH MY GOD

THEYRE PERFORMING A MIRACLE TOGETHER

Aaaaaand of course it goes immediately wrong

Episode 2:

Gabriel’s wig is atrocious

IS AZIRAPHALE GOING TO BE THE SUPREME ARCHANGEL NOW

A jukebox that turns every song into Everyday like the Bentley with Queen, hmmm….

Crowley looks like a doting partner bringing his husband a drink

“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes, vavoom, sorted” sir… are you telling me that’s what did it for you???

Crowley’s so confounded that Jane Austen wrote books

THE VOICE OF GOD???

HE TURNED ALL THE GOATS INTO BIRDS

Crowley scaring the kids cause they were brats but not actually killing them aww

The little girl asking to be a blue lizard with her siblings she’s so cute

CROWLEY TAUGHT AZIRAPHALE TO EAT

I cannot believe Aziraphale was the first to talk about sides I love them

Crowley and Aziraphale working together for the first time to save the kids

Aziraphale looks so shaken to have lied poor baby

Crowley babe he’s begging for you to drive him

“Our car” you can’t take it that far lol

Poor Aziraphale really thought he was gonna fall he was about to cry

Crowley was so soft in that last scene

Episode 3:

Jim’s stuff is all labeled

Aziraphale looks like a proud father to Muriel

Crowley’s moving the plants to use the car

They both look like parents I love them

Crowley brought Aziraphale to a cemetery because he thought it would amuse him, that is date behavior

Crowley is about to kill Aziraphale for changing his car

NESSIE?!?!

“Operation: Lovebirds” Crowley is such a dork

Aziraphale just is not getting anything lol

Crowley… shrunk himself??? And then grew himself????

Crowley tempted her to be good I love him

I love the very closed sign

Demons can’t enter somewhere uninvited???

He’s so angry Aziraphale might be hurt

Episode 4:

BEEBOP

“His type”????

“I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item” HOLY SHIT

HE CALLED CROWLEY HIS GOOD FRIEND AFTER THE CHURCH!!!

“This office has gone 13 5 0 days without anyone saying ‘THE ROAD TO HELL IS PAVED’”

Glad to see Aziraphale in his magic era

Crowley’s impression is hilarious

“Someone you can really trust” and his first thought is Crowley 🥹

Aziraphale has a gun and Crowley has never shot one

Crowley was shaking he was so scared and Aziraphale was so proud of his trick

Furfur not knowing how to pronounce Aziraphale lmao

Sleight of hand!

Look at them finding a middle ground in shades of grey!

Lmao Crowley would murder him if he knew Aziraphale didn’t put the brakes

Episode 5:

They’re talking about Doctor Who

Aziraphale’s giving books and Crowley’s playing with crystal balls, I love them

Aziraphale being bad at French is so funny to me

Nina grilling Crowley on his relationship with Aziraphale is everything

Crowley was confronted with his feelings and immediately went out to get a drink with Aziraphale

Crowley’s so mad go off king

The matchbox!

Aww look at Crowley denying he’s nice

The romantic music while Crowley looks at Aziraphale with the chandelier

Oh. My. GOD. Jim’s suit!

Lol that’s not what I was expecting when they said masks will be provided

AZIRAPHALE WANTS TO DANCE WITH CROWLEY

THEYRE DANCING!!!!!!

“Surrender the angle”

Gabriel’s coat!!

“T. O. S. T. E.”

“You’re a good lad” “not actually, either”

“Rescuing me makes him so happy” you can’t just say things like that and expect me to be normal about it

Episode 6:

Crowley’s just bouncing around in heaven

“I’m done with being scared” *flips them the bird*

Oh sweetie, you meant well but no

“Crowley’s emotional support angel” yes, yes that’s exactly what he is

Crowley’s little supportive punch to Muriel was so cute

AZIRAPHALES HALO?!?!

THE FLY

Gabriel x Beelzebub confirmed??

The fact that Gabriel and Beelzebub were able to sort this out in a few years while it’s taken Crowley and Aziraphale 6000 is insane

And the fact that Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm when he realized that

Crowley’s so impressed with Aziraphale bringing everyone to order

Aziraphale’s face at Crowley talking about Alpha Centauri

Aziraphale looking at Crowley with so much love in his eyes is giving me life

THE METATRON?!?!

Aziraphale looking to Crowley for permission I can’t

Crowley knowing Aziraphale will come back and saying they need “a little us time” at the Ritz

Crowley getting antsy that Aziraphale’s not back yet

Nina taking inspiration from Crowley and calling Maggie angel my beloved

Crowley looks devastated that Aziraphale interrupted him

Aziraphale looks so incredibly happy at getting Crowley to be an angel again but there’s no way Crowley wants that

Crowley’s getting so emotional

“Just be an us” stooooopppppp

“I need you” I can’t take this!

Nightingales

THEY KISSED!!!!!!!!!

Aziraphale touched his lips after I’m dying

Aziraphale stop being so stupid and get him back

The- the second coming??

YOU CANNOT END IT HERE

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

Please tell me there will be a season 3 I can’t handle this

#I thought I had until tomorrow/midnight to watch it #this cannot be the real ending #somebody say sike right now #good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens series 2 #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #crowley #aziraphale #go crowley #go aziraphale #crowley and aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #ineffible husbands #muriel #nina and maggie #gabriel #go gabriel #good omens beelzebub #gabriel x beelzebub #go2 #go 2 spoilers

[marinetteplztakeabreak]

The arc with the resistance in ml season five???? Is so good????????????? The way that???? Its been going on low-key for a while????? But theres this Massive Shift this season where literally the entire miracuclass stops running away from akumas or hiding???? And its like???? The fear is GONE by the end of the season???? Theyre not scared anymore theyre just pissed off????? At the system???? Not at the akumatized victims???? But also its not a “babying the akumas” thing either like when gabe is akumatized theyre like “WRONG BAD” at him????? Same with chloé???? But like the entire class will see a butterfly and start running TOWARDS it because theyre like “oh no someone needs help goddamit i gotta get there before hawkmoth” and they dont always win and they dont beat themselves up about it???? Like in confrontation, Juleka got akumatized despite their best efforts and theyre all like “ugh this sucks” but no one’s giving up hope or anything???????

And!!!!! The way that the anti-akuma charms work in that episode??????!?!??!?? The way the fandom has this trend of thinking like,,,, the only way to escape akumas is to push emotions away deep deep down,,,, thats how marinette and adrien have kind of been operating?!???? But then it’s revealed on no uncertain terms that the powerups of the anti akuma charms are reactive to emotions?????!?! That pushing things down doesnt help?? you have to Fight Back and FEEL on your own terms and accept others’ help and feelings?????

Juleka shutting down and curling up into a ball and trying to disapear didnt work!!!but her yelling about how its not fair and shes proud of mr damocles despite it all???? like??? Catalyzed the entire anti akuma charm shield thing???????

The way that this season has shown time and again that it’s okay to be mad and frustrated and hate the system and its okay to feel trapped and scared but you have to learn to reach out and find a good outlet for those emotions even if that outlet is yelling with your friends???? instead of isolating yourself and pushing away people who have your best interest at heart????? And lying and pretending it’s okay doesn’t help but looking for bits of real joy and support amidst the chaos does???

The way that ladybug and chat noir started this season as The Most Alone Theyve Ever Been with the miracle box stolen??? and realized by the end that no one needs powers to be heroes??? they just need to be able to trust each other and take turns carrying Hope for the group and remembering whats worth fighting for!? and as long as theres a drive to fight theres always little victories to celebrate??????????!??

(Also the way that Nino—who heads the resistance—literally calls everyone in his group including Bustier Comrade and the way that they talk about how sometimes it feels like no one’s listening and revolution is the only way?? and the way they address fears about spyware and technology only benefitting the elites and the school system being designed without students’ well-being in mind and environmental terror and the police being corrupt and they take all of that and they say “it is Still a worthy battle and it sucks but you are going to be okay,,, just do not give in to hopelessness… find the people who will help you keep fighting and keep believing in a better future and Cherish Them”)

People complain about this show going “off the rails” as it’s switching its target audience and addressing more “mature” themes or whatever but like do you guys understand how much every single narrative decision makes me scream

#ml spoilers #ml s5 spoilers #nino lahiffe

[kneelingshadowsalome]

i'm sorry if this is rather redundant but what does task for 141 think of the engel herself? we know soap told her to stay away from könig before almost getting shanked by him but what do they all think of this abolutely batshit insane girl? also that lil tidbit of ghost clearing his throat after seeing engel wear her pretty dresses??? 👀

Ok so the thing is other operators fear König and have come to the conclusion that this man is insane. Some even think König shouldn’t be allowed to work in a field like this – actually, he shouldn’t be walking freely at all! They fear his impulsiveness and bloodlust and dread the day this guy fucks up a mission in his battle frenzy.

So if they fear König and consider him a lunatic… they would surely view a girl who wants to be with him mentally unstable as well 🫠

Their first reaction might be pity and concern: how did this guy pull such a sweet and kind girl in the first place? Is she alright, should someone do something? Should someone... save her...? (No one would have the courage I'm afraid)

But when they see how König is around her (flaunting his knives and acting like a proud gorilla full of testosterone) and see how the "sweet kind girl" is around König (smiling, at ease and flirty), they are slightly horrified. When they see she’s not a victim but actively pursues König’s company and admires him, they're kinda like, "Oookay then..." It appears this damsel doesn’t need saving because clearly, she isn’t in distress!

Also. König is so possessive and territorial he wants to leave no doubts as to who this woman belongs to. He holds her hand all the time when they’re together, going on those walks for example, and if somebody sees them he will automatically tighten his grip and pull her closer. Anytime she visits him König makes sure everyone hears them. People try to avoid paying attention to it but cannot help but hear how reader gets loved very profoundly in this gunman’s room. “You look tired,” and “Yeah I couldn't get any sleep last night I wonder how come” would become a dry joke around the barracks soon.

And yeah, reader walking around in those pretty dresses certainly attracts attention! She's practically glowing. It only adds to everyone's bitterness, however. Especially the male operators are getting more and more annoyed. Every man walks around blue-balled and tired except König, and it makes them despise him even more. What a mad, lucky fucker... And what's even more fucked up is that even though he’s getting some nearly every day, this dude shows little to no signs of calming down.

#answered #könig headcanons #yandere könig

[mangoshorthand]

Hello! I saw your Five Hargreeves oneshots and wanted to submit one if that's alright. Could you do one where the reader has a fascination with hypnosis and tries it out of Five. It works, but it ends up affecting them both more than they thought, leading to smut. I loved the way the reader took care of Five in Lucking Fucking Pillow and I like the idea of Five letting his mind shut off in order to take a break. If you don't want to do hypnosis can I request some Sub!Five fluff/smut? Thank you!♥

Not the biggest fan of hypno so I went for Sub!Five fluff/smut. I tried to incorporate the idea of Five taking a break and being mesmerised, (even if not literally!). Hope you enjoy xx

In Your Hands | Five Hargreeves/ GN Reader 3.1k words, Rated E

He thought retirement was all he wanted: he envisioned himself kicking back, perhaps taking up fishing or birdwatching or golf or whatever old dogs like him were supposed to do. So, at first, he threw himself into it, wearing a lot of khaki, flannel and tennis shoes and wandering around the city waiting for relaxation to occur. 

But, somehow, it never seemed to happen: fishing and birdwatching made him want to tear out his hair, golfers were all assholes (plus he could never get the fucking ball to go where he wanted it to) and he very quickly exhausted his appetite for museums, art galleries and attractions.

The resulting feeling was very much like boredom. With dismay, he found that he was as ill-suited to an idle life as he was to khaki and flannel. Perhaps it was having the body and brain chemistry of someone in his early twenties, or maybe it was something more essential. It wasn’t, as his siblings liked to insist, that he got off on the thrill of an impending apocalypse, but Five’s was certainly a mind that needed a bone to gnaw on.

His first project was his car. He’d first scoured the country for the perfect 1970 Corvette Stingray and then fixed it up to his liking. For months, he could be found in Academy’s parking garage, head under the hood or entirely underneath the jacked-up car and cursing softly as he tweaked, tinkered and optimized the engine. 

He was obsessed, living on the intricacies of the work. The mechanical nature of it appealed to his meticulous nature: the little problems to smooth away and the occasional need to think outside the box. He would lie awake at night, brain raking over how to coax the reluctant carburetor into better operation again and again.

As much fun as he had, as with every project, there came a point where he couldn’t do any more. When the car returned from the body shop with a reconstructed paint job, she was in as perfect condition as such an old car could be- there was nothing for him to do but drive her. This was enjoyable, but didn’t give his brain enough to chew on long term.

So, since then, he threw out the idea of retirement along with the incongruous clothing. He just let his brain carry him wherever it wanted to go: sometimes that was recreation and relaxation, at other times it was chasing his latest obsession. 

But there was a problem: when ‘on the job’, Five knew no moderation. He’d work on this latest thing for hours into the night, neglecting you and running himself ragged into the bargain. It came of having to obsess in order to stay alive during the apocalypse; he’d learned this crazed single-mindedness there, and it was as if he knew no other way to be.

So when you found him in his dad’s office, hair sticking up in all directions and surrounded by stacks of books, newspapers and an entire chalkboard’s worth of calculations, you sighed heavily.

“What are you on this time, Five?”

“Samuel Shawcross!”

“What?”

“Samuel Shawcross,” he repeated, flicking through the pages of a book feverishly. 

“You mean the…aerospace guy?”

“Exactly!” he said, a slightly mad look in his eye, “The billionaire owner of Atlas Aerospace, both famed and mocked for his researches into time travel. An asshole who's shadier than a ten foot parasol.”

You snort laughter at this, but amusement fades as you watch him flip over the chalkboard to write on the other face. 

“Billionaires are always shady. Look at your dad.”

“I know!” he said, impatiently, dropping the chalk “and that’s exactly the problem. He and Dad- they knew one another. They were working on stuff together! Look. Look at this!”

He handed you a piece of paper, dated a short while before Reginald’s death. It seemed like the final page of a letter.

-the success of my latest round of testing, I can surmise that it will be extremely appealing to you as well as our associates. I intend for it to be ready within the next decade. Onwards and upwards! Your friend, Samuel Shawcross

You look from the letter, back up at Five. 

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” he said, beginning to pace like a caged tiger, “it’s nowhere.”

“But it could mean anything.” you say, confused.

“Don’t you get it?” he said, eyes wide, “The old man was an asshole but he sure as hell wasn’t slapdash. If the other half of this letter is gone, then it means that Dad deliberately destroyed it or someone else took it. And the only reason either of those things would happen is if it was sensitive information!”

You looked down at the letter and then doubtfully back up at him. 

“Five, it’s been years since your father died. How many people have been in and out of here since then? It could just have been lost. Knocked off a table or something and then thrown out. You told me Klaus ransacked this place.”

“That letter says this device could be ready any time now. We gotta know what it is, surely? If some idiot like Shawcross gets his hands on time travel then we’re all on paradox highway, heading to kugel-town!”

You dropped the letter on the desk and took him by the lapels, feeling his fast breathing. His raised heart rate was perceptible even beneath layers of fabric.

“You’re running away with yourself, Five. Who says this is a time travel device? Who says it’s a device of any kind? Maybe it’s a…a recipe for a really great cocktail or something?”

“What cocktail recipe takes ten years to develop?” he said, though sounding slightly less sure. 

“Isn’t this for the Commission to deal with, anyway?” you say, quietly, pressing your body against his, “Why, when they have the Infinite Switchboard, is this down to one sexy boy and his chalkboard?”

The back of his thighs hit his father’s desk. He swallowed, his sturdy adam’s apple bobbing as he looked into your eyes. He found that they pulled his inexorably into their own depths. 

smut below cut

Suddenly, what had consumed him so fully seemed less important to focus on than the insistent press of your body and the tug of your eyes. Yet he couldn’t quite stop the whirring of his mind. The little ‘what ifs’ and ‘whys’ churned and fired away like the engine of his Corvette.

You turned your attention to his throat, to the prominence of cartilage that had betrayed his interest. You leaned towards him and laid a kiss there. It was a small kiss: barely more than a peck, but his skin lit up with gooseflesh. 

You smirked at the sight. 

Five felt his jaw go slack as you moved your face to whisper in his ear, making sure your breath fluttered across his neck along a slow, teasing path.

“Are you stressed, baby?” you whispered, oh-so quietly.

He nodded dumbly, your voice running into his ears like honey, obscuring all other sounds. 

“That big old brain of yours giving you trouble?”

“Yes,” he croaked, letting his knees go and leaning against the desk for support.

“So clever, aren’t you? Sometimes it’s nice to just…let go.” 

He didn’t respond, instead closing his eyes as one of your hands crept to the other side of his neck and stroked him lazily. The already pebbled skin bristled and a pleasant chill crept down his spine.

He so wanted to let go. He moved into your touch, quietly asking for more.

At this, you hummed delightedly into his ear.

““You always take such good care of me, Five.” you whispered, “You even try to take care of the whole world…but let me take care of you for once. Just let it all go.”

He nodded again, not trusting his voice.

“Shall I help you relax?”

Another nod.

“I don’t hear you, Five,” you said, with a touch of playful reproach.

“Yes please,” he whispered, quickly; eager to please. 

You kissed his lips and felt him yield easily to your caresses. You burrowed your hands into his hair, pulling gently. He made a small noise into your mouth and melted into you further: letting himself be kissed. Your lips, firm but soft, communicated all you wanted to tell him: tonight, he was in your hands. 

As a sharp heat built within you, you withdrew, unable to help nibbling at his lower lip as you did so.

He looked at you with a patiently expectant expression: ready for you to do with him as you wished. To you, Five was always perfect, but in this mood? He looked practically edible as he looked back at you. His swollen lips were parted, shining with traces of salvia. His fine green eyes were guileless and mesmerized. Undeniably delectable. 

You felt a rush of something as you looked at him. So cute and charming, it actually hurt. There was nothing to do but grab his tie and twist it in your fingers, your other hand drifting down his body.

He let out a soft ‘oh’ as you cupped his clothed crotch, weighing his arousal in your hand.

“Hard already?” you said, as if disbelieving, “you must really need me, huh?”

He capitulated to the game without a second thought: it was the path of least resistance now that his cock was as hard as a battering ram and throbbing with the need to feel skin on skin. 

“I do, I really need you,” he breathed.

“Are you desperate?” you said, giving his swollen package a little squeeze.  

“Yes,” he groaned, “I’m desperate, okay?”

You stepped smartly away from him and he took confused half-step forward to follow you but you turned on your heel and walked swiftly away.

“W-wait,” he said, uncomprehendingly, “please don-”

But he understood as he heard the key click in the lock, locking the door of his father’s office against would-be intruders. You turned back to face him.

“Get undressed baby.”

He nodded again, grateful and certain in the knowledge that he was safe in your hands. He shrugged off his jacket as his numb fingers fumbled with his waistcoat. It was hard to concentrate on the task, so befuddled was his brain. This was complicated further by the sight before him. As his layers of clothing fell away, so did yours. You’d already stripped off your top, revealing the chest that he could never tire of touching, stroking and kissing. 

His gorgeous eyes followed you reverently as you removed the rest of your clothes and moved to sit behind the desk. You leaned back comfortably in the commodious desk chair., noting with amusement the way he tripped over his own pants and underwear as he took them off. 

Soon, he was standing there in only his socks.

“Come here,” you said, patting your knee, “come and sit nice and close against me, okay?”

He obeyed, looking around uncertainly just as he was about to sit, unsure how you wanted him. Taking him around the waist, you guided him onto your lap.

“That’s it baby. Lean back. Feel me against you.”

He sighed as he did so, losing himself in your touch: in your palm rubbing a comforting circle onto the firm plates of his lower stomach. He reclined fully, resting his head beside yours, his neck forming a graceful arch. 

He let out a little puff of air at the feeling of your warmth: the closeness of being cradled this way. It was bliss and it held the promise of more bliss to come.

“I got you, sweetie.”

He made a little noise in response and, smiling, you pecked gently at his pulse point. There, his heart was coming to a slower, steadier rhythm as he relaxed into you. His breathing, you noticed, was becoming deeper, even as his cock stood out proud; a loud exclamation point between his thighs. 

You kissed again and again at his neck, the backs of your fingers drifting up and down his stomach. Five didn’t verbally object to this little tease, but couldn’t stop himself nuzzling and butting softly at your cheek, asking you to take him in hand in much the same way as an insistent cat might ask to be petted. 

When you didn’t immediately give in, he squirmed against you, restlessly. Spreading his legs wide and arching his back. You hissed in air as his perfect ass wiggled sinfully against your crotch. 

Then, it was his turn to hiss as your fingers, on their drift down his stomach, brushed against his swollen, deep pink tip. When you flittled your fingers back up his stomach, he actually whined.

“Please. Please touch me properly down there.”

He certainly sounded desperate.  

“It’s okay, baby,” you said, kissing his temple, “of course I will.” 

So you wrapped your fingers around his shaft and he made a sweet, formless, high pitched little sound.

He exceeded your hand’s grasp, but not by so much that he couldn’t feel completely enveloped by you. As you massaged his straining dick, you smoothed away the final, lingering preoccupation of his mind, his hitherto furrowed brow clearing and settling into smoothness. 

You and the mounting pleasure were the only real things to him as you stroked him, your other hand ghosting lightly across his thigh. He sighed softly, spreading his legs even wider for you as the hand moved to cup and softly rub his balls, your thumb working in a slow, languid circle.

“Feel good, darling?”

He nodded against your cheek, body going heavy in your arms. One hand gripped the buttoned leather of the chair’s arm, and the other stretched back, over his head to brace himself against the chair’s back.

As you stroked him this way, there was just enough of Five left to be satisfied by this situation. What a way to stick it to the old man!  What would he say if he knew that Number Five was getting jacked off in his desk chair? What better middle finger to the old bastard than by desecrating his precious study by being a total slut in here?

But as your warm, clever fingers brought him closer to the edge, all thoughts of Reginald were (thankfully) driven away by the deep desire smoldering in his guts, his tingling nerves and the mounting adrenaline.

He groaned a soft ‘oh’ as your hand delivered a particularly harsh jolt of pleasure.

You kissed his cheekbone.

“I love making you feel good, baby.”

He only sighed in response. 

Your hand briefly left his shaft to swipe at the pearl of precome beading heavily at his tip. Half of this, you rubbed down the length of his shaft, to slicken your hand as you finished him. You gathered the rest, however, wet, hot and sticky on your finger tips. 

You raised it to his face and his lips parted. An eager tongue lapped and licked at the seed coating your fingers. 

“You like that?” you asked, delightedly

“Yes,” he breathed, recovering himself enough to speak, “fuck, I think I’d like anything you want to give me.”

“God, I love you,” you gushed, unable to stop yourself smiling at his complete change in attitude; the swing straight from manic energy to submissive desire.

“I love you.” he babbled, “I love you so much.”

At this, he angled his face up towards yours with needy entreaty, so gave him the asked-for attention and kissed him again. He was going to come quickly: you could tell by the way he suckled gently but needily at your lips.

When you broke apart, his heavily-lidded eyes didn’t leave your face, looking up at you with hazy adoration. You kissed his silky hair and held his gaze.

“I’m going to make you come now, baby. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

“Yes.” he murmured, “Yes please.”

You sped your strokes, his tip making a satisfying thwap thwap thwap against your thumb on each upstroke. 

His asscheeks tensed and his hips jumped upward to meet your ministrations, whispering a steady stream of rhapsodic affirmations. 

“Yes,” he said, “Yeeesss. Oh God, please!”

Tight little moans were creaking from deep in his throat. He sounded like a tiny, feral thing caught in a death grip. 

You grasped him tighter and he whined, socked feet scraping and whispering against the turkish rug as he struggled for purchase. His hip bones stood out against his skin as he curled backwards, rubbing his hair into further disarray against your shoulder. 

“Fuuccck.”

“God, Five, you make me crazy.” you whispered, “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Mmmph!” 

“Yeah, come on: that’s it.”

And then, at your encouragement, his cock pumped against your grasp. His hips surged forwards helplessly with each throb. He gasped shrilly, bucking and grinding against you and crying out in rapture.

“There you go baby,” you said, voice full of lascivious satisfaction, “There you go.”

You lengthened your downstrokes, milking him for all the pleasure you could, noting with satisfaction the way his come splashed copiously onto your arm and wrist. 

“Yes. Oh fuck. Yes. Fuck,” he chanted, “Yes. Fuck yes. Thank you!” 

His thighs trembled like a nervous terrier as you pulled the final few spurts of come out of him. As the ropes turned to drops, the trembling lessened into sporadic twitches. He breathed long, shaky ‘Ohs’ into your ear as he enjoyed the waning spikes of satisfaction. Gradually, you slowed and then stopped your hand. 

Five lay spent against you, his breathing relaxed but shallow. His eyes were closed, head leaning entirely on yours. There was nowhere for you to go with him weighing you down, so you ignored the come getting tacky on your skin and folded your arms around his chest. 

“Did I make you feel good, baby?”

A confirmatory grunt sounded from his throat. Clearly, he was in no state to say more. So you took the rare opportunity of Five’s being silenced to whisper to him:

“I love you. You’re so perfect. I love taking care of you like this. You deserve it, sweetie: you really do. You need to relax a little, okay? Get out of your own head now and then. You can’t always be on the go.”

He made no answer but a sleepy smile. After a couple of minutes of silence, you spoke to him again.

“Are you still planning to investigate Samuel Shawcross?”

“Who?” he said, a trace of humor in his dragging voice.

“Attaboy,” you said, placing a final kiss into his hair.

Request masterlist >> HERE

NOTE:

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

#sorry I suck at choosing gifs #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy smut #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x reader #umbrella academy five x you #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #number 5 imagine #number 5 x reader #number five x you

[ckret2]

Was Bill always your favorite or is it because you had to dig deep into his character for your fic

If he wasn't my favorite I wouldn't have started a fic about him lmao.

When I watched GF back when it was airing... honestly, first watch through I was more interested in the story that in the characters, but I think Bill did still end up my fave just because I looked at the rest of the cast and went "sure, they're humans" but I looked at Bill and went "oh boy! Villainous demon-spirit-thing that invades dreams and operates on fae rules!" because I will always latch on to any demon/alien/robot/monster before any of the human characters.

But that was a 20% interest in Bill vs a 10% interest in the humans of the cast. He had stiff competition from the Summerween Trickster and Giffany.

So he's always been in first place? But, like... today I like Bill more than the rest of the cast, but also, I like Mabel, Ford, Stan, Gideon, Soos, Mr. What's-His-Face, and Amorphous Shape in 2024 more than I liked Bill in 2015; and on top of them I've also now put much more thought and character development into Dipper, Wendy, Pacifica, Fiddleford, Robbie, Priscilla, Mrs. Gleeful, Bud, Lazy Susan, 8-Ball, Kryptos, Tad, Ghost-Eyes, Abuelita, Manly Dan, Agent Powers, and possibly even Melody, Tyler, Mrs. Corduroy, the Category 6 Phantoms of Pain, and the Trickster than I put into Bill in 2015.

So yeah he's always been first, but the bar was really low on my first watch through when I didn't connect much with the characters.

You can thank Ford for the fact that Bill's still my fave. If it weren't for The Last Mabelcorn I probably woulda never thought about him again. Wacky charismatic villains are a dime a dozen, but a wacky charismatic villain with a friends-to-enemies secret history with a mad scientist who might have worshiped him is juicy.

#anonymous #ask #(I had a bill roleplay blog for a hot minute way back several years ago. when I started on this fic I went back and reread it.) #(I didn't even recognize that bill lmao I was like who is this guy. that's not bill. so surface level.) #(although that WAS the first time I used the 'bill in a human body wears a hoodie to look triangular' idea. like 8 years ago.)

[star-going-supernova]

Glamrock Circus Baby is a thing and she operates in the ice cream parlor at Bonnie Bowl. If you wanna do the GlamMike headcanon, with Elizabeth still possessing Baby, just A LOT calmer now, then that would be an epic, and also very worrying, rivalry.

Prompt from Hydrangea_Cherry9 on ao3! This is pre Security Breach, if SB even happens in this AU. 

Sibling Rivalries Never Die

Glamrock Bella Bunny, the rebranded and redesigned Circus Baby, wasn’t a terrible host for Elizabeth Afton. At least she wasn’t stuck in a mechanical clown anymore, though she hadn’t quite decided if the red and pastel pink bunny—because heaven forbid the pizzaplex have a human-ish animatronic—was actually better. 

(It did soothe something in her tormented, tattered soul that this animatronic didn’t have any mechanism for snatching innocent kids. She had maybe been in a better mood since she didn’t have to live with being stuck in her murderer’s body.) 

The best part of her new twisted existence was the company. And she didn’t mean Bonnie, who Bella saw and interacted with most often. No, there was nothing like a bit of schadenfreude to lift one’s spirit (pun intended). 

She threw a handful of plastic spoons at Glamrock Freddy, the current host for her older brother. It was a slow day, and there was no one at the counter to catch her misbehaving.

“Seriously?” he said, more annoyed than any child would ever hear the great Freddy Fazbear be. “Real mature, Li—Bella.” 

“Get lost, Freddy. Or can you not read?” She pointed over at the hand drawn sign that Monty had been happy to make for her. A great big red X slashed over a sloppy crayon depiction of Freddy’s face, with BANNED written above it.

“Oh, for the love of—I’m here to see Bonnie. Not you. It’s not my fault you’re stuck in the bowling alley.” 

“I prefer ‘defending my territory,’” Elizabeth said with a haughty sniff. “And if free roaming makes you so high and mighty, then you can go wander around elsewhere and wait for your boyfriend to join you.”

Michael sputtered. “We aren’t—Bonnie’s not my boyfriend!” 

“Mhm, sure.” She roughly scooped a generous ball of strawberry and unceremoniously lobbed it at his chest. “Oops. Guess you’ve gotta go get cleaned up.” 

“You’re such a brat,” he snapped, snatching up a handful of napkins to try and mop up the mess of pink ice cream splatter. “You can’t still be mad about last week.” 

Bella wasn’t an animatronic particularly suited to hissing and gnashing her teeth, but Elizabeth was nothing if not furious and determined. “If it wouldn’t get me decommissioned, I’d jump over the counter right now and rip your arms off, you pathetic excuse for a—”

“What’d he do?” a child’s voice interrupted. 

Circuits sparking in surprise, they both jumped. Michael stumbled to the side, revealing a boy who had been standing behind him. It was hard for an animatronic to be shocked into shutdown, but seeing the absolute spitting image of their dead younger brother staring back at them with a mischievous sort of fascination did the job. 

Michael choked out a yelp before his eyes went dark, and Freddy unceremoniously toppled over to the tiled floor. Elizabeth—and she would gloat about this later—lasted a moment longer, her mouth flapping with her speechlessness before her core overheated and forced a reboot. 

In the final moment before her vision cut out, she would have sworn she saw a copy of her brother beside and a bit above the boy, as if floating. And that second Evan, the see-through one, looked as surprised as Elizabeth felt. 

#fnaf fic #fnaf security breach #star's stories #life and times of star

[drconstellation]

Chiastic Structure of S2

The post preceding this is Chiastic Structure of S1.

S1 was neat, tidy and simple compared to S2.

S2 was...difficult. I have a feeling this is because of the missing minisodes. There felt like there were "holes" in places, where there was a strong scene with no corresponding pair, and yet in others there were single lines matching up.

You will also notice its quite...skewed? The hinging midpoint is right at the end of Ep4, which means the last two episodes mirror the preceding the four! So there are gaps. For example, the conversation in the pub in Ep2 doesn't match with anything specific.

One of the things I hoped it might shed some light on was the purpose of the trip to Edinburgh, which seems like a bit of a dead end. It does, in a way - I will discuss it a bit further below, along with some other parallels that didn't fit the structure.

A: Before the Beginning B: Aziraphale meets Crowley C: "How much trouble can I get into just for asking a few questions?"  D: "I'm very good at forgiveness. It's one of my favourite things." E: Gabriel: "I love you, you're funny" F: Argument about helping the other G: Crowley offered Duke of Hell position H: Crowley apologizes to Aziraphale I: Hiding of Gabriel - 25 Lazurii miracle J: Shax threatens Crowley K: Jobs children are turned into geckos M: Aziraphale's Trial by Temptation N: Aziracrow see God talking to Job: AZIRAPHALE: I don't suppose he's getting any answers. O: AZIRAPHALE: That sounds, um…CRAWLEY: Lonely? P: An angel asks permission for entry to the bookshop Q: Aziraphale makes unauthorized changes to the Bentley R: CROWLEY: Oh, come on, Mr. Dalrymple, it's not brain surgery! S: BARTENDER: You'll be one of those investigative reporters, no doubt? T: Aziraphale goes back to offer assistance to Elspeth and wee Morag U: Aziraphale stalls on saving wee Morag, says he doesn't have permission V: The laudanum toast to wee Morag W: AZIRAPHALE: Will you get into trouble? X: Crowley does Operation Lovebirds - Calls tempest Y: CROWLEY: "What are we talking about now?" GABRIEL: "Who am I? What's happened to me?" Z: Crowley confronts Gabriel about Aziraphale - Its always too late AA: Shax saying to Aziraphale she heard Aziracrow were an item 90 years ago BB: Zombies kill - 1st brain eaten CC: Crowley talks Aziraphale into performing a bigger magic act DD: Aziracrow shake on deal to do more miracles if needed EE: Zombies kill - 2nd Brain Eaten FF: The Staging of the Bullet Catch GG: Aziraphale gives permission for Furfur to enter the dressing room HH: Furfur says to expect a legion to come for Crowley in the morning II: Furfur's audience with the Dark Council, is treated condescendingly 

● SHADES OF GREY  - you said "TRUST ME."

II: Shax is stopped by Demon Josh, is treated condescendingly HH: Shax wants a legion to storm the bookshop GG: Beez asks if Shax has permission to enter the bookshop FF: AZIRAPHALE: I can guarantee you it will be a night to remember! EE: Shax wants killers, 10,000 demons DD: Deal for Dr Who Annual with Mr Arnold CC: AZIRAPHALE: Maggie and Nina are depending on me BB: 70 demons and a malignant and creeping sense of unease AA: Nina asks Crowley about how long he and Aziraphale have been together Z: Crowley confronts Gabriel about Aziraphale - stops him before its too late Y: Nina: "I’m going mad" - is spoken to by all the people at the Ball X: Aziraphale does Operation Lovebirds - Maggie asks Nina to dance W: AZIRAPHALE: I think you're overestimating how much trouble we're actually in. V: SHAX:… they are toast. T-O-S-T E. Toast. Now! U: Crowley stalls Shax on attacking humans, asks if she has permission T: Crowley says he's coming back, won't leave Aziraphale on his own. S: CROWLEY: Officer, I need to report a crime. R: Aziraphale: It all looks so simple in Jane Austen… the brains behind the 1810 Clerkenwell diamond robbery. Q: An unauthorized demon enters Heaven, changes P: Maggie gives permission for the demons to enter the bookshop O: MURIEL: It's a bit lonely. N: Aziraphale opens the portal to Heaven: GABRIEL: I told you you could ask. However, I am the only First-Order archangel in the room, or, you know, the Universe, so I'm not gonna answer so much. M: Gabriel's Trial K: Gabriel puts himself into the fly J: Aziraphale declares war on Hell I: Reveal of Gabriel - memories restored H: Gabriel apologizes to Beelzebub G: Aziraphale offered Supreme Archangel position F: Argument about helping the other E: The Big Damn Kiss D: "I forgive you" C: "Always asking damn fool questions, too."  B: Aziraphale leaves Crowley A: Beginning of  the End – Learn of Second Coming

Discussion on parallels that didn't fit the structure:

1. Crowley is given permission to destroy all of Job's possessions /  Gabriel refuses to give permission to destroy the Earth aka Armageddon II

There is a repeat emphasis on licenses, permits and authority throughout S2, so I really thought Crowley's permit to destroy of Job's possessions would have a match. It did, but it didn't fit the structure! If you look closely some of the other permits and authority lines do slot in. I'm planning some metas on these topics in the near future, as the use of language around these concepts is quite interesting, and there is some history to throw into the mix as well.

2. Crowley deceives the archangels with the help of an angel

This pair is a reference to Crowley and Aziraphale teaming up in the Job minisode to restore Job's children, and then Muriel aiding Crowley to sneak into Heaven. I'd just like to point out that Crowley could have gone to Heaven on his own - remember Eric went up with the hellfire in S1E6 - but he doesn't know where to go and get Gabriel's file, that is what he needs Muriel for.

3.  Popping up to Edinburgh

Ah, the trip to Edinburgh! Why? WHY!!! Why go all that way for ... nothing?

Guess what - it's a parallel sequence to Crowley popping up to Heaven.

I was going to write a companion piece to this but...my to do list is getting a bit long at the moment. Let me know if you want me to expand on it.

4. Ignoring messages

So this one started as "Nina gets txt messages from Lindsay, Mrs Sandwich says not to look at them," at the start of Ep3, then during the Ball Crowley is trying to lead the humans out of the bookshop and Shax confronts him with another bundle of mail. Crowley is succeeding in ignoring his messages from Hell, but Nina isn't.

5. Muriel and The Interrupted Tea Ceremony

In S2 it noticeable that everyone except Crowley needs permission to enter the bookshop, whereas in S1 they could just walk in. Originally I made a comment elsewhere that I thought this part matched with a sub-story to the Ball, the story of Sodom and Gomorrah and hospitality to angels, but then I came back and had another look and saw that there was a surface match - but I'm still going to do another post about the "cupperty" because it keeps getting lost in all the noise!

6. Threats and Declarations of War

Shax makes a number of threats throughout the series, to hunt Crowley down and to declare war on Aziraphale. So when Aziraphale inadvertently declares war on Hell with the halo toss, you'd think there would be a matching pair. There is, but not with a declaration of war, just a threat to Crowley. This is probably one of the weaker pairs.

7. Mysteriosity, audacity, ferocity and dangerocity

The Marvelous Mr Fell and his Mysteriosity has a pair with Shax's speech to her fellow demons about the unprecedented audacity of the attack on the bookshop, and how their lack of numbers will be made up for with their ferocity and...dangerocity. It should have fit, but it didn't.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #chiastic structure

[chxrrylime]

as a soldier should i’ve got you covered 🫡

alex and husband reader spend a loving and romantic night together, let’s say reader is a special forces operative and just got off a hard mission so alex absolutely spoils him, candlelit love making (bottom reader) followed by a rose petal, candlelit bath where he just cuddles reader in front of him 🥹🤌🏽 just alex being totally and utterly in love w his hubby? 🧎🏽

— 🐍

Thank youuu so much. Just was feeling some sappy angsty vibes last night and this helped me channel that ♥ Sending kisses.

Alex x M!Reader ↪ 2055 words — 18+ / SMUT & ANGST.

Content tags — cis male submissive reader, cis male dominant Alex, referenced/implied post-traumatic stress disorder, minor subspace, unsafe sex, crying, blindfolds, referenced/implied injury, established relationship, penetrative sex, anal sex, fingering, stress relief, massages, dinner, candles, and hot baths. 

You had to remember to thank Price when you got back from leave. The bastard had gotten in contact with Alex post-mission and told him the bits he was permitted to share—mostly the bits that meant you were a stressed, exhausted, and miserable ball of anxiety. 

Price knew you well. Well enough to know you wouldn’t tell Alex, because as much as Alex encouraged you to share—two people that understand each other’s lives and professions and how the two entangle—it was hard not to feel like you were only weighing him down.

And so you were mad at first, when you came home and instead of takeout like usual it was a nice home cooked dinner that Alex had obviously spent hours preparing, making most things from scratch. Both of your pensions for fast food meant you often forgot how good of a cook Alex was.

After some digging Alex had finally admitted that Price reached out. It felt a little like meddling, yes, but after Alex had set your plate and cuddled up close to you in a neighboring barstool to borderline spoon feed you half of it, kissing your cheeks and hairline sweetly, you’d slowly relaxed into it, realizing this was probably for the best.

“Hey,” Alex murmurs, rounding the counter. His hands are slightly damp from washing the dishes when they rest on your forearms, rubbing up and down, “trust me?”

“‘Course,” you breathe, giving him a tired smile that doesn’t hold for long. 

He moves to stand behind you, hands tracing up your arms, stopping at your shoulders to press into the muscles there, massaging the aching tissue. You groan, arching back into his touch as his lean, strong fingers work out the knots and kinks.

He finally pulls his hands away, returning to bring a strip of cloth into your vision. A blindfold. He’s delicate as he wraps it around your head, tying it carefully but snug. His nails trail down your spine, making you shiver.

“Still good?” He checks in. You nod and he hums, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your neck as he turns you in your stool, slipping an arm under the crook of your knees to haul you into his arms bridal style.

“Jesus Christ!” You choke, clinging to his shoulders, pressing your face to the crook of his neck, breathing in his aftershave.

He chuckles, squeezing you tighter to his chest. 

The walk is short but peaceful, and you nearly doze off against his warm, strong body, surrounded by the comforting scent of him and the sound of wood creaking beneath his feet.

You cling to him even as he tries to set you down on the bed and he laughs, placing his hands over yours gripping at his shoulder. 

“Just for a minute, c’mon,” he urges, the smile in his voice evident.

You release him with a pout, hearing heightened as you hone in on his movements throughout the room.

You hear the soft clicking of a lighter, followed not soon after by the smokey smell of eucalyptus. You breathe in slow and steady, trying to let yourself relax against the soft bedding. 

Despite your best efforts, the lack of sight, the envelopment of the darkness gives way for your imagination. The sounds of gunfire and yelling, the feeling of mud and blood indistinguishably caked onto your skin and gear. The immense amount of ache in your bones, the sharp pain in your brain as Soap had barely managed to drag you into cover when you’d finally collapsed from blood loss. 

You startle when you feel hands on you again, ready to fight when Alex speaks, soothing you.

“It’s just me, just me, you’re okay,” he says quickly. You keep your hands on his wrists as he trails them from your shoulders up, not holding, just following.

He pulls the blindfold free and you blink, eyes adjusting to the dim, flickering light of the room. You first look at Alex, who’s already stripped down to his underwear, body flushed and littered in little knicks and scars. You scan the room, candles scattered about, little flames dancing across the walls. It makes you smile, followed by a bubbling laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Alex says, mock offended, big smile on his face hearing your genuine, full laugh for the first time tonight.

“You’re a romantic sap, Keller,” you grin, pulling him in for a kiss.

He laughs against your lips, humming happily.

“I’ve barely gotten started,” he murmurs, kissing you again, slow and sweet, tongue sweeping against your lower lip in a silent request.

You part your lips, feeling him lick along your tongue and teeth, making you moan softly. He manages to undo your belt, shimmying you out of your jeans but pointedly leaving your briefs on, his hands trailing up under your shirt next, groping at your chest gently before encouraging you to lift your arms to remove it

“Just trying to get laid then, huh?” You half-joke.

Alex frowns though, a genuine look of concern crossing over his face as his hands freeze on your hips.

“You don’t actually think that…” he trails off, staring at you with sad eyes.

You shrug in response. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve had time for each other,” you admit, voice soft, “just… I wouldn’t blame you. Not that you need all the fanfare to get in my pants—”

“Hey, come on,” Alex says, urging. He kisses you again, quick and chaste, cupping your cheek as he pulls back “this isn’t about me, alright? I promise. It’s about you. I know… I know things were tough on your last op and I just wanted to… remind you. That, I…”

He trails off, swallowing, his voice thick. He’s looking at the wall now beside you, and you realize his eyes are a little glassy.

“Please don’t cry,” you say, tone jokingly annoyed and petulant, though you don’t know if you could actually handle it if he did start.

“I’m okay,” he laughs wetly, “I just realized we don’t do stuff like this a lot and… I don’t show my appreciation for you enough. I mean… I know it’s kind of a mood killer but… there’s always the chance we don’t come home, y’know?”

“You don’t have to do all this, though. To show me.”

“But I want to,” he murmurs, leaning in for another kiss, this one long and deep, licking into your mouth once again, “if you’ll let me.”

Nodding, you sigh contentedly against his lips, letting him lay you back down against the bed. He trails down your torso, licking and kissing, making you squirm when he briefly sucks at your hardened nipples.

His mustache tickles your tummy, and he smiles as you wiggle from the sensation, looking up at you all beautiful and splayed out for him.

He gently hooks his thumbs in your underwear, pulling them down your thighs, down your legs and off. You let out a soft breath as your cock is freed, hard and pressed against your stomach. 

He leans back down, licking a stripe from the base of your shaft all the way to the tip before pulling it into his mouth, sucking at the swollen cockhead. You moan quietly at the feeling, the wet heat enveloping your sensitive flesh. He’s always been so skilled with his mouth, even the first time he sucked you off—having awkwardly admitted he’d never been with a man at all—he was so, so good at pleasing you, taking directions so well as he trained his throat to take you—just so eager to please.

Now he takes you with ease, holding the base of your cock, enveloping the whole of the flesh without barely a gag. He bobs his head up and down your length slowly, taking his time to pleasure you. 

He massages your balls with his freehand, feeling for when they draw up tight so he can slide his mouth off of you, making you whine, being denied your pleasure.

“Shh shh, I got you,” he coos, the soft click of a cap followed by his slick fingers teasing your hole making you pant. 

The lube quickly heats inside you, making you so, so much more sensitive, realizing quickly he’s bought warming jelly for tonight.

“Alex,” you whine, back arching, moving your hands down to tug at his hair and shoulders, “need you.”

Alex coos again, moving up your body to drape himself over you, his arm bent at an awkward angle to keep stretching you open on his nimble fingers. You wrap your arms around his torso, clinging tight to him, burying your face against the crook of his neck.

Alex can feel the warm wetness dripping against his shoulder, and knows not to say anything. 

He just holds you tight, slipping a second, then a third finger into you as you rock your hips, desperately humping down onto the digits.

“You’re okay, sweetheart,” he says. You sniffle, moaning as he slips his fingers free, hole clenching at the idea of what comes next. 

Your body shivers in anticipation, so pent up, so in need of release after the hell you’ve slogged through the past week. Need to feel Alex fill you up, make you feel whole again, like you only ever feel when you’re with him.

You feel the head of his long cock brush your hole and whine, rocking your hips down to try and take him in.

“Slow,” he chuckles, running his free hand through your hair, whispering a soft “let me make love to you.”

You moan softly, nodding as your head rolls back, feeling him slowly begin to press into you, stretching you around his pulsing girth.

“Atta boy,” he hums, “taking me so well, sweetheart. Makin’ you feel good?”

“Fuck, yes,” you groan, feeling his sharp smile against your throat as he rocks his hips, slow and steady. 

For once the pace is enough—connects to some deep yearning inside you you didn’t think you’d ever feel again, not since all the shit you’ve been through. You scratch up and down his back, making him groan and hiss, his cock twitching excitedly inside of your tight walls.

The slow drag of his length within your walls, the steady pressure tapping against your prostate, the burning hot lube has your whole body tingling, skin covered in goosebumps. You feel like you’re going to shake apart, finally from pleasure instead of anxiety. 

You moan his name over and over like a manta, hands grasping and clawing wherever they can reach. 

“Look at me, baby,” he groans, and you do, opening your eyes to stare into those piercing sky blues. They always make you feel so bare, so laid out for him to pick apart. A vulture to roadkill. 

You cry out, stomach spasming as you cum untouched, splattering between the both of your tummies and making the skin there sticky and wet. Alex borderline growls, forehead bonking against yours, those beautiful eyes slamming shut as he ruts into you two, three more times before he’s spilling into you, hot cum pumping you full.

You lay limp, a small noise of protest escaping your throat as Alex catches his breath and gently sits up. He keeps his softening cock in you for a moment, massaging at your tummy as residual twitches travel through the muscle there.

When he finally slips free you whine, and he coos a loving “I know, I know,” as he soothes you, tenderly scratching at the skin behind your ear, making you shiver and arch into the touch.

He leaves for what could be seconds or hours, though you doubt very long, brain all hazy and fucked out as he runs calloused hands over your sweaty skin. You can hear white noise coming from somewhere, and realize as he carries you into the bathroom that it’s the sound of water rushing, filling up the tub.

When he sets you into the tub you can tell he’s mixed in some sort of scented bath salts, along with little pink aromatic petals that float atop the steaming water. You moan at the relief on your sore muscles, more than happy to make room for him as he slips in behind you, holding you tight to his chest.

You eventually doze off, finally safe in his arms.

#modern warefare 2 #modern warfare #alex keller x reader #alex x reader #alex keller #mine #smut #male reader