#noT me asking for prompts then writing nOne of them and coming up with this instead ahdjsjsjs

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Claire!! I ran to your inbox the second I saw your post about drabbles being open!! :D

Would be willing to write something for Tommy Shelby using this prompt: “Don’t play games with me, sweetheart. You won’t like it when I play them back.” ?? Take the story in whatever direction you desire….I just know it’ll be amazing!

Thanks so much if you choose to! A

A little short for my darling K? Of course <3 I hope you like the direction I went in with this!

Words - 1,139

Warnings - None

“You don’t need to lie to me. You hate him, don’t you? I see it, kitty cat. That face of yours when you’re on his arm? It ain’t the face of a broad who's happy to be there.”  

He was right, too. Although you had to wonder how many times others had witnessed your carefully placed facade slip. Then again, you hadn’t been stepping out all too long with Tommy Shelby. You didn’t intend on doing so either. 

Tommy didn’t remember you from school. He had no recollection over how he’d made you feel about yourself as a little girl, the name calling, the teasing, the shoving you around. “Boys will be boys, my sweet”, your father had always said. Your mother had taken a much less blasé approach.  

“Darling girl of mine, boys will not be boys. Boys will be however we let them behave. If that little shit continues to act like this, wallop him one.” 

While you appreciated her stance, you never did give him the aforementioned walloping. Until now, in your decision to make him pay for being your playground tormentor, your bully. Some might call it immature of you not to be able to move on from it, but truly, Tommy Shelby has done more to hurt you than any other. 

It didn’t stop in the playground. 

The growth of The Shelby Company Ltd, with its wings spreading like an albatross across the coal-black suburbs of Birmingham led to your father being put out of work, your brother being recruited and then executed as a Peaky Blinder and your family losing everything. Tommy was so lost within the vast vortex of his own ego that he didn’t even recognise you, by neither sight nor name when you approached him one evening in The Garrison, your charm amped up, your plan set into action. 

You would make him fall in love with you, you would toy with his heartstrings and then, finally, you would rip them to pieces. Just like he did to your life. Just like he always had.  

Your plan? It worked. Effortlessly.  

Every time he called to court you, you would exit the door of your lodgings looking pristine, ready to be wined and dined, your place upon the arm of the city’s most prolific gangster a spot coveted by many. It never did fail to make bitter fire lick your insides, though, while other women burned with envious ire. Your revulsion ran deep, but you had to confess; at least he was pretty to look at. At least he was a talented and sensual lover.  

You never allowed him in too much, though, and it was the cleverness, the assertive aloofness of your nature that had the poor fool coming back for more every time.  

“Why don’t you ever stay with me, sweetheart?” he asks you on one such night, as you pull yourself back into your clothes. 

Looking away from the garter clasp you’re about to affix to your stocking, you see it there in his eyes. Pleading. Longing. The desire to spend the entire night curled around you in a warm, loving embrace.

“I like my own bed.” 

He tuts, reaching for his cigarette. “You always say that. Don't even let me stop over there with you either.” 

“I like my own bed alone.” 

“And what when we’re married, eh?” he questions, exhaling a thick plume of smoke into the dark of the room. “Will you let me share a bed with you then, or are we to be like an old-fashioned Victorian couple, same bedroom, single beds?” His eyes glint at you, shifting to sit up a little. “That’s a bit puritan for a girl who likes being fucked as dirty as you, love.” 

The urge to punch that smug, pretty face of his. Buttoning your blouse, you reach for your coat and pull it on, picking up your bag and then leaning to press a kiss upon his lips. “I’ll say goodnight now, Tommy. Let you go to sleep and dream of me.”  

He isn’t used to not getting his own way, and lord, how it shows. He reaches for your wrist, grasping you in a hard clutch, your mind flashing back to the playground. He’d do this while kicking your shins and mocking you. “Don’t play games with me, sweetheart. You won’t like it when I play them back.” 

You smirk, and the devil’s fire flashes through his eyes. “Is that a threat, darling?” 

“It’s a bloody promise, love, and you know it is. Might have to tie you to this bed next time, stop you from escaping on me.” He smiles then, something boyish in him as he tilts his head, pulling you down into a soft kiss. “I love you, even if you are a bloody temptress.” 

“Love you, too. Goodnight.” 

Leaving the bedroom, you saunter down the stairs and into the lounge, going into his jacket pocket and removing the keys to the building he runs his legitimate business from, Out of your purse, you remove the soft ball of clay you’ve stashed away wrapped in paper, flattening it with your palm before pressing each key into it.

With those imprints taken, you visit the local foundry the following day, asking for a set of keys to be made to those exact impressions. 

“Ahh, nice, easy little job this, bab,” the foreman informs you, removing his cap to scratch his balding head as he takes the lump of now dried clay. “Have ‘em ready for ya by close.”  

After returning later that evening, you have within your grasp the tools you require to facilitate the final piece of your plan, the last little detail being delivered to you by a third party, one who after arriving from New York saw quite clearly how much use you could be to him, getting close enough to ruin Tommy Shelby and all he held dear.  

Walking through the bar of The Grand Hotel, you slide into a seat beside the handsome Italian waiting for you, placing the keys into his hand. 

“You did good, doll,” he drawls, eyeing you appreciatively. “Here.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a roll of bills, handing them to you with a wink before taking your hand and kissing it. “If you’re ever in New York in the future, please, don’t think twice about looking me up.” 

Of course, Luca Changretta could have simply broken into the building he required access to, but Tommy is a shrewd operator. He would notice even the most carefully picked lock, and the plan was always for him not to see it coming. When The Shelby Company Ltd explodes into a ball of fire, both Tommy and Arthur within it, you know he never saw it coming.  

After all, he never truly saw you.  

#tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfiction #luca changretta fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders

[vodika-vibes]

Dogma AU ask you say? Ok hmmm… how about this! Dragon AU. Dogma is a dragon, who can shapeshifter into human form, and the local town offers a “human sacrifice to appease the monster”. But of course he’s not gonna have ANY of that nonsense! Also this is tooooootally not to make a pun of the game called “Dragon’s Dogma”

Hope Is A Thing With Feathers

Summary: Rumor has it that a massive dragon is living in the mountains near the village your parents dragged you to after you refused a marriage agreement to a man who would have made them wealthy. Rumor has it that the only way to keep the village safe is to sacrifice a woman to the dragon. You were the most recent sacrifice…and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x F!Reader

Word Count: 1434

Prompt: Dragon AU

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: You know, I've been pretty anxious for most of the day, but the moment I started writing Dogma the anxiety faded. Is Dogma my comfort character? Who have I become? Anyway, I hope you like it!

You stand at the bottom of a massive tree, your hands on your hips are you glare up at the hint of blue and silver peeking through the leaves. “Dogma! Get down from there!”

There’s silence for a moment, and your scowl deepens.

“Stop acting like a child. You are fully grown and this isn’t cute.”

A large snout peeks out from between the leaves and huffs smoke in your direction. 

You sneeze and wave the smoke away from your face, “If you think that my inability to climb trees will keep me from coming up there after you, you’re wrong.” You warn.

The dragon retreats between the leaves.

“Fine. I warned you.” You call up to him. 

There’s no noise at all, save for the sound of wind through the leaves, and you sigh.

Honestly, he’s acting like a child. All you did was ask if he wanted fish for dinner and now he’s sulking like a toddler.

You kick your shoes off and jump so you’re able to grab the lowest branch. Carefully you walk yourself up so you’re able to swing your leg over the branch. You scan the next level of branches, and then stand on your current branch and reach for the next one that you can reach.

Dogma is watching you. 

You know he’s watching you without having to check.

You can almost feel his anxiety as you start scrabbling up the tree for the next branch. It’s not graceful or elegantly done, but you’ve never actually climbed a tree before.

“I can’t believe—oof,” You slip and almost fall, but manage to catch yourself, “—believe that you’re making me come up here to get you.” You grouse under your breath. 

I’m not making you do anything, ad’ika. Dogma’s voice echoes through your mind and you tilt your head in his direction.

“You’re acting like a child.”

I do not like fish.

“And that’s an excuse to throw a tantrum like a toddler? Woah!” You have to grab at the tree to keep from falling.

You’re going to get hurt.

“You’ll catch me if I fall.”

How am I to do that when you’re below me?

“That sounds like a you problem, Dogma.”

The dragon releases an explosive sigh, I think I preferred it when you were afraid of me.

“Nah, you didn’t.”

You can’t allow me a single delusion?

“It’s not healthy.” You retort with a grin.

You can almost hear him rolling his eyes, but then you’re distracted when the tree starts shaking and you end up having to sit on the branch you were standing on to not lose your balance.

Dogma climbs down the tree head-first, though he pauses when he reaches your level so you’re able to wrap your arms around his neck. He’s large enough that you can barely reach around him, but you’re secure enough that he’s comfortable moving with you latched to him like a particularly stubborn burr.

You think he’s going to set you on the ground as soon as he’s close enough to let you down, but you’re also not surprised when he doesn’t. Instead, he walks a little ways away from the tree and starts to shift.

Your feet lightly touch the ground and strong arms slide around your waist, and you find yourself looking into the handsome, human, face of Dogma. “Found you~” You tease.

“Oh, was I lost?” He teases in return, as he lightly bumps his forehead against yours.

You just shrug, a quiet laugh falling from you, “Are you feeling more like you now that you’re sulk is over?”

He bumps his nose against yours, “No fish.”

“Alright, alright. No fish.” You grin at him, “But that means, Dogma, that you need to go hunting.”

He sighs, “I know, I know.” Dogma pulls back slightly and presses his face against your neck, inhaling deeply. “You smell like me.”

“Is that a problem?” You ask with a grin.

“Not at all, love that you smell like me.” He pulls back and presses a light kiss against the tip of your nose, “Ready to go home?”

“Ready.” You reply, releasing him to give him so space to turn back into his true form. 

His dragon form is massive, large enough to carry you at least, with dark blue and silver scales, plus the black scales on his face that take the form of his tattoo when he’s in his human form.

In your opinion, he’s gorgeous in both forms.

Don’t forget your shoes. Dogma says as he nudges you with his snout.

You giggle and wrap your arms around his head, “I hate wearing them.”

You’ll regret it come winter.

“You’re right.” You admit with a sigh, releasing him long enough to grab your shoes from the base of the tree. A pointed look from Dogma as you pull them on, rather than just carrying them. “There, happy?”

Thrilled. Dogma replies as he lowers his head to allow you on his back. Make sure you hold on.

“I always do.” You wrap your arms around him tightly as he takes to the sky. The first time Dogma took you to the tree where he and his brothers tend to gather, you feared that it would be a bumpy ride.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t. When he flies, it’s very smooth. Smooth enough that you only have to hold on tight for take-off and landing. So, as soon as he’s soaring through the clouds, you loosen your grip and absently stroke his neck. 

That is not holding on, ad’ika.

“I know, but I’m not worried about falling.” You say lightly. For a long moment, you’re quiet, “Hey, Dogma?”

His head turns slightly so he’s able to look at you, What’s wrong?

“Nothing. I’m just curious about something.”

Go ahead.

“What happens on the next Winter Solstice?”

What do you mean?

“Just…when they make the next sacrifice to you.” You ask as you trace his scales, “What…what happens to me?”

Dogma is quiet for a long time, Hold on, ad’ika. We’re landing.

“Already?” You ask, though you do as he requests and wraps your arms tightly around him. He banks sharply and lowers to land next to a massive lake, and then he lowers his head to let you off. 

Slowly, you slide off his back and move so you’re standing in front of him, “Is something wrong?”

Dogma’s transformation is a lot quicker than last time, and you’re so surprised that you take half a step back as he steps into your space and brings his hands to press against your cheeks.

“Dogma?”

“Do you think that I’m going to make you leave when the winter solstice comes?” He asks, his eyes still have flecks of gold in them from how rapidly he shifted.

“I…well…” You avert your gaze, though he’s still holding your face pretty tightly. 

“Oh, ad’ika.” Slowly he presses his forehead against yours, “How long has this worry been on your mind?”

You shrug, “Not long. A couple of months.”

“That’s too long for you to be worried about this, ad’ika.” Dogma says, “So, this is me telling you, right here, right now. I’m not asking you to go anywhere at the next Winter Solstice. Or the one after.”

Your gaze drifts back to meet his, “Really?”

“Really.”

“Even though I’m…me?”

“I don’t want you to be anyone else.” Dogma replies, “You’re perfect, I’ll keep you forever, if you let me.”

“But I’m human.”

“You let me worry about that.” He leans in and gently presses his lips against yours in a soft and gentle kiss. And then another one, and another one.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You murmur against his lips, “What happens on the next Winter Solstice?”

His hand slides from your cheek to press against the back of your neck, “Ad’ika, the next Winter Solstice belongs to the Wolfpack.” Dogma murmurs against your lips, “So far as we’re concerned? Nothing happens the next winter solstice.”

You gasp as his lips crash against yours, and he walks you backward until your back bumps against a tree. “Dogma—”

You feel him smile against your lips, “I should get you back home.” He murmurs, “But how about a short break.”

“A break?”

A sly smile crosses his face as his hand slides to the laces of your dress, “Maybe not so short.”

Your face heats as he tugs the laces loose, “I suppose a break wouldn’t be too bad.” You reply with a small smirk of your own. Your hands move to cup his face, and your smirk turns into a genuine smile, “Dogma?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

And he freezes for a moment, his eyes wide and astonished, and then he grins and crashes his lips against yours once more. “I love you too.”

#star wars #tcw #star wars au #vodika-vibes 650 event #clone trooper dogma x reader #dogma x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks #dragon au

[esoteric-goblin]

on worldbuilding, and what people think is going on

there is one facet of fantasy worldbuilding that is, to me, the most interesting and essential but i don't see it come up in worldbuilding guides or writing prompts or anything, and that is the question of:

what do the inhabitants of your world believe about how the world works, and how are they wrong? a lot of fantasy media will set up their cosmology, gods, magic systems, planar systems, concepts of the afterlife, &c., and proceed as though the inhabitants of the world know and understand them.

from someone whose entire academic career is focused on studying human culture in various regions and time periods, with a focus on belief systems (religion, occultism, mythology, folklore): that sort of worldbuilding is unrealistic and missing out on so much fun.

people are always seeking new understanding about how the world works, and they are mostly wrong. how many models of the solar system were proposed before we reached our current one? look at the long, turbulent history of medicine and our various bizarre models for understanding the human body and how to fix it. so many religions and occult/magical traditions arise from people disagreeing with or adapting various models of the world based on new ideas, methods, technologies. many of them are wrong, but all of them are interesting and reflect a lot about the culture, beliefs, values, and fears of the people creating/practising them.

there is so much more to the story of what people believe about the world than just what is true.

to be clear: i think it's fine and important for the author to have a coherent explanation for where magic comes from or who the gods are, so they can maintain consistency in their story. but they should also be asking what people in the world (especially different people, in different regions/nations and different times) think is happening when they do magic, or say a prayer, or practise medicine, or grieve their dead. it is a rich vein for conflict between individuals and nations alike when two models of the world disagree. it is fascinating how different magic systems might develop according to different underlying beliefs.

personally, i think it is the most fun to spawn many diverse models of the world, but give none of them the 'right' answer.

(bonus points if you also have a thriving academic system in the world with its own theory, research, and discourse between factions! as an academic, it is very fun to imagine fictional academic debate over the topics i'm worldbuilding. sometimes i will be working out details for some underlying mechanic of the world and start imagining the papers being written by scholars researching it)

#worldbuilding #world building #writing #creative writing #writeblr #on writing #fantasy worldbuilding

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

#writing advice #rambling #first drafts #gotta say not mad on being called a horrormaster #feel like ive a ways to go yet #horror journeyman maybe

[floralcyanide]

― 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚜 (nsfw)

⌯ pairing: bale!bruce wayne / afab!reader ⌯ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, fingering, nipple play, friends to lovers, love confessions, mentions of fear toxin (dcu), no gender affirming language other than anatomy description ⌯ word count: 2.5k ⌯ summary: based on these prompts: “I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist.” and “How do you always end up under my blanket?” your best friend bruce wayne has been missing for a while. when he comes back, he has a confession to make. ⌯ author’s note: this took a little while to write because I wanted to write an actual fic for bale!bruce. I hope yall enjoy (:

divider credit: @arminsumi | @firefly-graphics | @cafekitsune ⌯ masterlist ⌯ taglist form

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

You’re busying yourself by folding laundry, trying your best to get your mind off your best friend Bruce. While his job is very demanding, and he goes away for a while sometimes, he’s never been gone this long. You’re beginning to worry- so much so that you’ve lost sleep and the ability to eat properly. But you know Bruce, and you know he’s resilient. It’s just a matter of time. But, of course, he was presumed dead for years before now, and that will always haunt you. So it’s not entirely irrational of you to worry.

A knock at your apartment door startles you out of your sleepy stupor. You set down the towel you were folding before shuffling to the entrance. You peek through the peephole to see none other than Bruce standing there. You swing the door open, and Bruce immediately wraps his arms around you. You do the same to him, holding him tightly, fearing that this is some hallucination from lack of sleep. Your face is buried in Bruce’s chest, and his scent tells you that this is real and he’s really here with you. 

“Where were you?” you whisper, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

It had been quite a few days of radio silence from Bruce. You know he’s Batman, and he keeps you updated on his safety status. But he, of course, doesn’t tell you details of the villains and crimes for your safety. You’re his childhood best friend, so you knew he was Batman before he even told you. The day he told you, you just laughed. “I know, Bruce.” But you were still very concerned about his well-being after trying to approach one of his enemies. 

“One of the guys I was after had a toxin,” Bruce pulls away from you, looking around to ensure no one would hear, “It got to me.”

You furrow your eyebrow, “Come in.”

Bruce enters your apartment, waiting for you to close and lock the door. He shoves his hands into his pockets, unsure of whether or not he should explain the situation at all. But he knows he owes you an explanation. 

“A toxin, huh?” you ask, crossing your arms as you lean against the door.

“Fear toxin.” Bruce clarifies, “It makes you hear and see the things you fear the most, but they aren’t really there.”

You shudder, “That sounds horrifying. And you said you experienced it? How long did it last?”

“I was out for a few days while Alfred worked with someone to make an antidote. I saw things. Things I didn’t want to.”

You pull away from the door and slowly walk to Bruce, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Bruce looks at you as you stand before him, “No, but I probably should anyway. Considering the things I was seeing.”

You pull the sides of Bruce’s jacket together, holding onto them as you search his eyes. They’re different, and you figure it’s from whatever he experienced from the fear toxin.

“What did you see, Bruce?”

Bruce grimaces with a nervous laugh, “Are you sure you want to know?”

You look at him and nod, still clutching his jacket. 

“I saw you,” Bruce sighs, shaking his head, “Something kept hurting you and killing you over and over. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

You stare up at Bruce with a frown etched on your face at the thought of your best friend feeling helpless. 

“That sounds awful,” you say.

“It just made me think about a lot and realize things I didn’t see before.”

Bruce turns his thoughts over carefully, choosing what exactly to say next. He had always loved you, sure. But Bruce never thought of it as a romantic thing. Not until the fear toxin made him see things and feel things he had never felt or seen before. He wants to protect and care for you so you never have to go through what he saw you go through. Even though it isn’t plausible that you would, Bruce still wants what is best for you because he does love you. A little more now than he did before. You, on the other hand, have always loved Bruce. You've been enthralled with his presence since you were kids playing in the Wayne Manor backyard. Everything he did amazed you, especially now with him helping the people of Gotham. His intelligence, softness, even the cockiness he sometimes lets seep through. Even before, when he was a slightly bratty rich guy, you loved him. Bruce's absence for days has made your feelings for him more intense. With love comes worry and concern.

“And what would that be?” you ask.

Bruce pulls your hands from his jacket, enveloping them in his, “You’ve always been here for me, and I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. I love you and will always do anything to protect you.”

“I love you too, Bruce,” you say back, not realizing the total weight of his words.

“No,” he says, “I really do. It’s taken me this long to see, but I do love you. And not like a best friend.”

Your face softens, “Bruce, you don’t mean that-”

“No, I do mean it,” he says, squeezing your hands.

There’s a pregnant pause before Bruce slowly leans down to capture your lips with his in a swift, gentle motion. The world seems to stop around the two of you, the sirens outside quieting and the sound of your washing machine fading away. Bruce lets go of you and cradles your head in his hands, deepening the passionate-turning kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer. Bruce slips his tongue past your lips, battling yours for dominance, which you gladly let him take. He guides you backward until the base of your spine is pressed against the kitchen counter. Bruce moves his grasp from your hair to your thighs, where he hikes them up around his waist. He smiles into the kiss, and you pick up on it.

“What?” you ask, pulling away briefly.

“I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist.”

You feel a warmth spread along your ears at that confession. Trailing your palms up Bruce’s neck and past his jaw to his cheeks, you stare into his eyes. A smile spreads across his face into slight laughter, to which you mirror. 

“What else have you dreamed of, Bruce?”

“Want me to show you?”

A nod of your head leads to Bruce walking you to your bedroom, still perched on his waist. He gently lies you down on the bed before climbing over you, his strong arms on either side of your head. He lowers himself onto you to kiss you again, his weight on his forearms by your ears. Bruce then moves to your jaw, teasing you with small kisses and nips. You can’t help but giggle at the feeling of his stubble on your skin, tickling it. Bruce travels down your neck and then down to your torso, where he lifts your shirt and kisses your stomach. You watch with content as he tugs your shirt over his head so he can reach higher to your breasts. You don’t wear a bra when at home, so Bruce has easy access to them. He softly kisses your skin, avoiding the areas you want him most. You open your mouth to joke about it, but before you can say a word, his fingers pinch one of your nipples as he lays his head by the other. Bruce shoves your shirt to your shoulders, resuming his previous position of pressing his cheek to your left breast and toying with the right one with his hand. With a slight movement of his head, Bruce is now suckling your unoccupied bud. Your hips buck into his stomach, and you feel his length growing hard against your leg. Bruce gazes up at you through his lashes, his eyes a little darker than before. Your hand finds its way to his hair, fingers tangling themselves in it. 

Bruce tweaks your nipple with his teeth as he rolls the other with his fingers, making electricity jolt through you. A gasp leaves your lips at the sensation, your grip on Bruce’s hair tightening briefly. He leaves open-mouthed kisses along your breasts before moving down your sternum and stomach, toying with the hem of your sweatpants. Bruce glances up at you to ask for permission, and you nod.

“You can touch me.”

Bruce pulls your sweatpants down, and you kick them off the rest of the way. He bites and licks the skin of your thighs before cupping your clothed heat with his mouth. Bruce flattens his tongue against you, dragging it upward against the cotton material of your underwear. You whine at the contact, wanting something a little more direct. With your hands still in Bruce’s hair, you remove them, moving them to pull down the barrier between you and Bruce’s mouth. He helps you with a knowing smirk. He softly kisses your clit before letting his tongue delve into your wetness, a sharp inhale through your nose letting him know it feels good. You would be lying if you had said you hadn’t thought of this exact moment before. Bruce steadies your hips with his hands, his fingers digging into your flesh. When the tip of his tongue comes in contact with your bundle of sensitive nerves, you attempt to buck your hips up to no avail. Bruce is incredibly strong, so you had no chance of moving. But he begins to guide your hips up and down, making you ride his tongue on his own accord. You move with what he’ll allow along with his guidance, and pleasure flowers through you. Bruce coaxes a finger into you, the feeling of him exploring you with it making you moan loudly. When he finds your spot, he adds another finger to circle it slowly. You gasp, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loud again.

“No,” Bruce shakes head, pulling away from you and stopping his movements, “I want to hear you, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you exhale, hands clutching the bed sheets.

Bruce resumes pumping his fingers in and out of you while pressing his fingertips to your spot every now and then, eliciting noises from you that you’ve never let out with anyone else. He laps at your clit simultaneously, and he allows you to move your hips freely as he spreads your legs with his free hand. You feel yourself becoming lost in pleasure, your head cloudy and letting out noises without a second thought. Bruce feels you tightening around his fingers, signaling you’re close to release. So, he pulls away from you and sits up on his knees. You wriggle at the loss of his fingers, but he quickly replaces them with the tip of his hardened length. Bruce holds you still with one hand as he drags himself up and down your weeping cunt with the other. You pull your shirt the rest of the way off as Bruce slowly pushes himself inside you. Giving you a moment to adjust, he peels off his own shirt and tosses it before continuing to thrust slowly into you. 

When he’s entirely inside, he notices you taking deep breaths, “All good?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “It’s just been a while.”

That and Bruce is well endowed, so you have to relax fully to take him comfortably. When you finally feel comfortable enough to move, you give your hips an experimental roll. Both you and Bruce groan at the feeling, to which Bruce pulls out a little before pushing back in. 

“Don’t be shy, Bruce,” you joke, “You can go faster.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Bruce smiles deviously down at you.

He picks your legs up and lays them on his shoulders before he begins to pound into you, leaving you gasping for air. You grip Bruce’s biceps, his rhythm is merciless as your bed frame squeaks underneath you. He moves you upward to the pillows so you can rest your head on them and so he can grip the headboard for leverage. Bruce’s hips snap forward rapidly, just as he assured, and he has to put a pillow above your head so it doesn’t slam into the bedframe. Your moans are incoherent at this point, and your eyes are wound shut.

“Look at me, babe,” Bruce says, moving a hand from your thigh to your cheek, bringing you out of your fog.

You open your eyes to gaze into his, Bruce pressing his chest to yours and fucking you at a new angle as he puts his forehead against yours. You gasp and pant into each other’s mouth before finally embracing in a heated kiss. Deciding to switch up the angle, Bruce removes your legs from his shoulders and spreads them apart as far as they go. You howl into the kiss as Bruce hits that spot inside you, driving you crazy. 

“Right there, Bruce,” you manage to stutter, “Right there!”

He hooks his arms under your knees, slamming you against him even harder than before. Bruce presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles into it. You curse, no longer caring if your neighbors hear you or your bed slamming into the wall. Heat builds up in your belly as you struggle to maintain eye contact with Bruce, stars flooding your vision. He hits that spot inside you harder than before, sending you over the edge in a snap. Your walls clench around Bruce, causing his orgasm to unfold shortly behind yours. The feeling of him emptying into you coaxes your release to last longer, and Bruce not letting up on your clit adds to the overstimulation. You cry out as another orgasm washes over you, and Bruce hisses from his own overstimulation. He curses under his breath as he pulls out of you, hurrying to your closet for a towel. Bruce cleans the two of you up as you work to bring yourself back to Earth. 

“That,” you say, Bruce hovering over you, “was amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Bruce says, and you both laugh at his cheesiness.

Rolling over to lie next to you, Bruce pulls the blanket on his side of the bed over him, and you do the same. But the ownership of blankets doesn’t last long as you cuddle. You manage to pull Bruce’s blanket over to your side, much like you used to when you were both younger. You had sleepovers a lot, and you’d always somehow end up stealing Bruce’s blanket.

“How do you always end up under my blanket?” Bruce sighs.

You peek at him, opening your closed eyes momentarily before shrugging, stifling a laugh. Bruce pulls your head into his neck before kissing your hair, allowing you to doze off. Even if the things he saw during the toxin’s hold on him were disturbing, at least it allowed him to see things more clearly and find his way to you. 

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce wayne smut #batman x reader #batman x reader smut #batman smut #batman begins #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #christian bale #christian bale x reader #christian bale x reader smut #christina bale smut #floralcyanide writes #pop up workshop

[andillneverbethesame]

omg i love your writing!! could you do a taylor swift song prompt of “so high school” x james potter? potentially with a ravenclaw reader?

looove this! so high school is absolutely james coded aaaaa. this is so short but i hope u enjoy anyway<33

so high school

❥ james potter x ravenclaw!fem!reader

❥ warnings; none really

❥ word count; 1.2k

❥ my ts masterlists; pt 1 & pt 2

"oi, james!" sirius called his best mate and gestured for james to sit next to him as if he wasn't going to do that anyway.

"good morning, everybody," james smiled at his friendgroup, his eyes lingering on you a tiny bit longer than on anyone else, making your heart flutter and your cheeks to heat up. you glanced back Down on your plate in hopes to hide it.

"james," sirius spoke up again, "marry, kiss or kill; lily, marlene, y/n."

"well, we all know who'd he want to marry," marlene said in a low voice, only for you and lily to hear. lily snorted and you lightly elbowed her.

the girls were convinced that james fancies you just as much as you fancied him. however, you found that hard to believe that someone so perfect like him could like someone like you.

james frowned. "i don't like this game."

sirius rolled his eyes. "oh, come on, you just don't want to say it out loud so you don't hurt anyone's feelings." he tapped on his ear. "whisper it to me."

james lowered his head at the level of his best friend's ear and whispered his answer. you girls tried your best to read his lips but it was no use.

"oh." an amused look appeared on sirius's face and he looked at you. you stared back at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

come on, james. are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

——————————————————————

the gryffindor quidditch team won the cup.

just when it seemed that they were going to lose against hufflepuffs, james caught the snitch, making the score 250 - 260 for the reds.

you were never more proud of him than in that very moment. you jumped from your seat and yelled his name in a cheering tone, clapping so hard your hands almost hurt. like if he heard you, his brown eyes found yours in the crowd. he grinned and sent you a wink and a kiss. james was thanking you, you were his lucky charm.

that night, the gryffindors threw the biggest party ever. it was many student's last game at hogwarts so it was also a goodbye party. all of the team members were there and talked about the match and their time playing together in general.

quidditch wasn't your thing. you were the stereotypical ravenclaw and you'd much rather be in your bed, under cover and reading a book. but james practically begged you to be there. after all, it was thanks to you that they won. you knew that wasn't the truth but you couldn't say no to him and you were glad you didn't. he looked so happy and beautiful and you couldn't help but admire him.

"let's play truth or dare!" marlene's voice rang through the common room and every person there agreed.

"i think i'm gonna go back to my dorm, it's late," you yelled over the loud music into james's ear.

"nooo," james pouted and give you a puppy look, he got a hold of your hand. "you can't leave now. please? just stay here for ten more minutes."

you sighed. you hated how easily you'll do anything he says.

"alright," you said and let him drag you to the circle of people in the middle of the room. a lot of people had gone to sleep already or some could be found vomiting in the bathroom so there weren't a lot of you. you sat down next to each other and waited for the game to start.

marlene picked up an empty whiskey bottle and spun it around. it landed on mary and she groaned, knowing that her friend has some of the most. . . interesting questions and dares.

"mary," marlene grinned widely. "truth or dare?"

"truth."

the blonde took a few seconds to think of a question before asking, "the freakiest place you did it at."

"that would be. . . a bed of one of my dorm mates."

"what?" lily, alice and marlene asked in terror, each of them wondering whose bed was it.

mary smiled innocently. "my turn," she spun the bottle. and then, everyone glanced at the boy beside you. you let out a sigh of relief.

"jamie, truth o—"

"dare."

a devilish smile crept onto the girl's lips.

"kiss y/n."

your eyes went wide as the people around you let out an "oooooh".

"mary!" you hissed. "what the f—"

before you could finish your sentence, you were rudely interrupted.

he tasted of— well, alcohol. rum and coke, to be exact. but it didn't matter. he was kissing you, and your whole body was on fire, your heart rate raised to at least hundred more beats per minute and fireworks. it was maybe cliché, yes. but it was the truth.

before you could fully register what the hell was happening, he was pulling away, making your lips feel cold at the sudden loss of the warmth of his mouth.

his gaze shifted from your lips to your eyes.

"i imagined our first kiss differently," he spoke in a low voice so only you could hear, sounding disappointed. he reached for the bottle and spun it around so the game could continue.

you stared at him for at least ten more seconds. you couldn't believe what just happened and what he said after.

and you started to wonder that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

——————————————————————

and in a blink of a crinkling eye, you were at sirius's and remus's apartment, sitting on james's lap in the living room. all of your boyfriend’s closest friends were there and just like any other saturday night, you had a film night. tonight, it was american pie.

james and you started dating only recently. it’s been a month,to be exact. so everything felt still really new. and you felt embarrassing for the fact that he still had the same effect on you like when you were bittersweet sixteen. it takes you back to the times when you used to admire him only from afar. but now, you get to kiss him. you get to touch him. 

like, for example, he was just touching you. as you tried to stifle your sighs, everyone seemed to be paying a great attention to the film. except for you two, of course. you coud not focus when james was constantly placing kisses in the crook of your neck and your shoulders.  you could not focus when one of his hands was drawing on the skin of yourupper thigh. you could not focus when his hot  breath made you shudder.

“james,”  you sighed quietly. “you got to stop.”

“and why would i do that?” he whispered back.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “you’re horrible.”

he shrugged. “you love me.”

oh, you did.

out of the blue, he spoke louder, “guys, me and y/n are sorry but we’re pretty tired so we’re headed home.”

huh?

all of your friends looked at each other and than back at you, saying “suuuuureee” in union.

“james, why are we leaving?” you ran outside after him.

he turned around and smiled. “you already know.”

“aw, we’re horrible!” you pouted playfully. “we’re abandoning our friends to have sex.”

“i’m sure they understand,” he said as he opened the door of his car. “remus and sirius used to do that all the time.”

you burst out laughing and let him pull you to the back seat.

no one’s ever had you, not like him.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #marauders #marauders imagine #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #harry potter x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #harry potter fluff #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter x you

[blue-avis]

Dc X DP prompt/story idea

So Danny has teamed up with different Captain Marvels over the years (either via clockwork shenanigans, or the Dp universe is simply older then DC) and Billy has memorys of this badass Ghost coming to help his predecessors out of tight spots.

Billy brings him up offhandedly in a JL meeting and jokingly calls Danny his dad. (Oh that reminds me of when Phantom went all dad mode and stopped this powerful mage from killing me a few hundred years ago)

The JL finds some ancient pots or writings describing Phantom as a benevolent god. They connect the dots.

A demigod calling a being described as a god their father? Checks out.

The league really needs help with something or someone world ending (probably darkseid) and they are out of all options so they tell Marvel to call his dad. Even Bruce and Constantine are onboard because a being described as benevolent that is apparently one of the most powerful leaders dad is certainly the safest option then whatever else they have at the moment.

Billy internally freaks out and tells them he needs to go to the Rock of Eternity to call him because he lives in a another dimension/universe and it’s just safer contact him there. Billy books it to the rock sifting through memorys, spell books, and desperately asking Shazam for help because none of his predecessors ever contacted Danny he just showed up.

Billy eventually finds something to summon Danny and does so, not before getting some food as offering of course. Danny shows up either and a adult or a Elterich being because it’s just easier to have adults respect you when you look like that rather then a 14 year old.

When Danny sees Billy he’s instantly like ‘is that a 12 year old!?’ Because his powers as the ghost king and or being considered an ancient let’s him see through the magic that is Caption Marvels form. Billy tells Danny about the situation and Danny is concerned.

Depending on how the writer wants the fic to go Danny’s reaction would probably be either ‘I must help him at all costs because he’s like I was after the accident’ or ‘he’s way to young to be fighting such powerful beings, who do I give a piece of my mind to!’

It could easily be either Danny adopting Billy, or Danny and Billy becoming close friends that pretend to be father and son to mess with the JL and JLD

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #captain marvel #Danny just goes with it #they are both chaos gremlins #Danny Fenton is immortal and has nothing better to do #fanfic #dp x dc prompt #fanfic promt #how do i tag help #ghost king danny #maybe #if you want

[halfvalid]

Hey! Since your requests are open, may I request opla!Zoro x reader (established relationship) where the reader has a lot of self doubt (not only in their looks, but their abilities and their place in the crew) since it’s, unfortunately, been shoved done their throat by pretty much eveyone they knew, even their parents, that they would never be good enough? Maybe Zoro figures out that they have sort of been spiralling lately and they have a talk about the readers past and the problems they’re facing and he comforts them? Maybe it ends sort of spicy or turns out full on spicy, if you’re comfortable with that!

daybreak

ABOUT

alternate title: some fluffy established relationship hurt/comfort to save my soul

rating: teen & up

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k (short; sorry!)

description: zoro notices you've been seeming off recently, and you confide in him your insecure feelings of self-worth. he comforts you.

tags: strawhat!reader, established relationship, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, kissing, no use of ‘y/n’, soft zoro, ridiculously stupidly absolutely horrifyingly fluffy. 

author’s note: thank you so much for the very lovely request! i hope i did your prompt justice; i ended up not writing any spice at the end (just slightly suggestive) since i didn't think it fit the story but i hope you like it anyway ^^

it feels slightly ooc, but i also wrote it in the span of two hours at 1:00 am so can you really blame me. 

It was morning on the Going Merry, and you were cleaning up the wreckage that had been scattered along the deck in your last battle. The crew had gone up against some other pirates; it’d been late at night, and the attack had come suddenly, what you’d thought would be a peaceful docking turning combative quickly. 

You barely remembered the fight. One moment, the warning bell had sounded, and the next Zoro was rolling out of bed beside you, grabbing his swords and darting out of your bedroom before you could even register what was happening. The fight had gone in the Straw Hats’ favor, thankfully; Zoro, Luffy, and Sanji had fended off most of the threat, and you were back on the open sea, safe from enemies for at least a little while now. 

You let out a sigh as you swept shattered glass into a dustpan, shaking out the collected trash into a nearby empty barrel. None of the men usually bothered to start cleaning up—typical—so you’d pulled yourself out of bed as early as possible to get the ship looking a little more like normal. 

Zoro had left some corpses on the deck for you to deal with, and you’d had to toss them overboard, a grimace tugging at your lips as blood stained the white of your blouse. No matter. You’d finished sweeping, at least; all you had left to do was mop, right as everyone else was waking up. 

You filled a bucket with warm water and soap, and were just grabbing the mop from the closet when you heard footsteps. You glanced up, surprised to see Zoro heading towards you, one hand grasped loosely around his sword handle as always. “You’re up early,” he said, casual as ever. “Woke up and you were gone.” 

“Figured I should get a head start on cleaning,” you answered quickly, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you dunked the mop into the bucket. His brows creased as he watched you start mopping, pushing the handle along the deck to wipe it clear of bloodstains. 

“How long have you been doing this?” Zoro asked, after a few seconds of delayed silence. You shrugged, dunking your mop again before going for another few swipes. “We can help clean too, you know.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” you protested. You moved past him, trying very hard not to meet his eyes—but Zoro didn’t let you pass, one hand going out to grab the mop rod and stopping you in your tracks. “What?” 

“What do you mean, least you could do?” Zoro asked blankly. 

“I mean—” you shrugged, muscles limp like your entire body was sagging you down. “You and the others were the ones to deal with the pirates, so I figured I could at least—”

Zoro still looked confused, brows pulled together, forehead taut with a frown. “I distinctly recall you throwing a pirate twice your size overboard. Unless I was imagining things.” 

You sighed. “Not what I meant.” You tried to push past Zoro again, but he didn’t let you, hand still tightly grasped around your mop handle. 

“Okay, what did you mean, then?” 

“Nothing. Will you just let me finish cleaning so there aren't blood stains all over Luffy’s ship?” You sighed again, even as you attempted to keep the sound inside—but you couldn’t help it. It was like there was an anchor stuck inside of you, pulling everything from your feelings to your body down, the weight of gravity tugging at your features. 

“Luffy’s ship?” 

You shrugged. “The Straw Hats’ ship. Whatever.” 

“Our ship,” Zoro said. There was a certain twinge of something in his words; still blankness, but laced with a dawning realization that you weren’t sure you liked. “You’re upset.” 

“Nope.” This time you really did manage to get free of Zoro’s grasp, yanking your mop out of his grip and starting back on cleaning the deck. The acrid smell of iron hit your nose as you scrubbed the dried blood off—you’d have to go back in later with a sponge to get all the cracks and crevices, but for now this would be okay. 

Zoro followed you, unceasing with his interrogation. “Yes, you are. I know when you’re upset, and you’re upset. What happened.” It was more of a statement than a question—Zoro didn’t often doubt himself, really, which was one of the many things that’d helped make you stumble into falling for him. “Was it about last night? You know the cook's just making fun when he keeps a counter, right? It doesn’t matter if he brought two or five more men down than you.” 

“It’s not about that,” you insisted. 

“So you admit you are upset.” 

You groaned, finally turning to look Zoro in the eye. He’d stopped walking, the dawning sun glinting hazey gold onto his skin in the early hour. There was still an overcast of blue from the night in the sky, and it made the heavens look ethereal, watery and glittering. 

“Come on,” he urged. “Just tell me what’s wrong.” 

“It’s really nothing you need to be concerned about,” you attempted, but your voice was weak now. Zoro stepped closer to you, gently pulling the mop out of your hands. Your fingers let go easily. “It’s silly.” 

Zoro gave you a look. “Out with it.” 

“I don’t know, I just—” your fingers clenched, like your hand was trying to find something to do now that Zoro had rid you of your mop. “Comparatively I just don’t do much. So I want to help out as much as possible.” 

“Who said you don’t do much?” 

“What?” 

“I don’t think I need to repeat myself,” Zoro said. He let the mop fall to the ground, arms crossing over his chest as he watched you. “Who said you don’t do much?”

“I mean, nobody. It’s just true.” You shrugged, distinctly uncomfortable with the way Zoro was looking at you—all attentive, like he was trying to strip you raw with his eyes, uncover whatever secrets might be hiding in the pores of your skin and the gaps of your teeth. “Luffy’s the captain, we wouldn’t be able to do anything without Nami, you and Sanji are the fighters, and Usopp’s everyone’s favorite. I’m just kind of… filler?” 

The more you spoke, the worse your words got, your tone turning more desperate as the sentences fumbled out of your mouth. Zoro’s eyebrows raised higher as you went on, and you flushed, red prickling all over your skin. 

“First of all,” he started, “Usopp is not my favorite. That’d be you. And—where are you getting this from?” 

You shook your head, trying to backtrack. “Nothing. Nowhere. It’s not that import—”

“Yes, it is, and we’re talking about it.” Zoro pulled a nearby barrel by the side of the ship, plopping himself down atop it and gesturing for you to sit. You didn’t, but you did move over to the railing, hands curling around the painted wood. “Speak.” 

“I have nothing to say,” you tried. Zoro just shot you an unimpressed look, and you squirmed. “Fine. I don’t know. I joined last, so I just figured… you were all kind of already set without me, right?” 

Zoro shook his head. “We’re a crew,” he said, voice strong but somehow still gentle. “You’re part of us for a reason. What, this entire time did you think you were—expendable?” 

You fidgeted uncomfortably, weight shifting from one leg to the other. “No.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Last night—I only got, like what, two guys? And you reacted way faster to the situation than I did,” you started, words flailing around on your tongue as they rushed out. It was indelicate, for certain, and you yourself couldn’t make sense of most of the words—but once you started, you couldn’t stop, even as they slurred together. “I was still getting out of bed and grabbing my weapon when you’d already dealt with half the enemy crew.” 

“Don’t compare yourself to me,” Zoro said with a shake of his head. “That’s not fair. I’ve been training since I was eight. It’s different.” 

You huffed out an exasperated breath, trying not to let your frustration get the best of you. “I can't help it sometimes. It’s a bad habit.” You loosened your grip on the ship railing, staring out at the golden clouds hovering over the sky.  “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Zoro answered. He didn’t say anything after that—giving you a space to talk, you supposed, in case you wanted to. But his hand did reach up to press against yours, pinky brushing against your finger as he held onto the railing beside you. 

“I guess I just always had these standards back at the village,” you managed out eventually. Your island had always been one of the more traditional places in the East Blue, and there were plenty rules and guidelines abound. One of the many reasons you’d left the place in favor for Luffy and the Going Merry, really. “So I just… always want to do more. It’s not that bad.” 

“Right.” Zoro’s pinky looped around your finger, now, holding it close in a soft kiss of the hands. You sighed. 

“My parents were kind of rough on me, I guess,” you tried, sneaking a glance over at Zoro’s face to see if it satiated his curiosity at all. His expression remained as steel as ever, so you just continued. “They wanted me to be the best I could. But their standards were too high, even when I was little.” You found yourself rubbing circles into the back of Zoro’s hand with your finger, more so to comfort yourself than for any other reason. “Just normal stuff, like being upset about my school grades or my combat training levels being too low. Nothing that terrible.” 

“But…?” Zoro asked, tilting his head up to look at you. You smiled, but the action didn’t reach your eyes—it was all mouth and jaw, cheeks lifting but eyes glinting with the same glazed stare. 

“It just affected me a lot, I suppose,” you answered. “Always trying to get better. Never satisfied. And I guess now—I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough.” 

“For?” Zoro asked. His voice was low, soft, all hollow and empty inside. There was a tinge of roughness lacing it, like he’d forgotten to clear his throat, and the scratch of his vocal chords had surfaced up along with the words. 

“Myself. My parents. Luffy. You.” Your lips tightened into a line. Vaguely, you could feel the warm pinpricks of tears starting at your waterline, and you tried to will them back, letting out a little laugh. “Everyone, I guess.” 

Zoro’s hand had come to hold yours fully, fingers woven in between yours, thumb pressed firmly against the joint of your thumb. Somehow, that one motion managed to force the last of the words out of you—all wet and soft, eyes glued fiercely to the horizon in fear of seeing what was etched on Zoro’s face. 

“We do arranged marriages back at home,” you started, trying very hard to keep your voice from trembling. it worked only marginally—there was a tiny quaver in your tone, but it was soft, not noticeable unless you were really listening hard. “And my mom used to tell me I’d die alone. Because I wasn’t pretty enough, or smart enough, or anything enough for any of the boys there.” 

“Oh,” Zoro said. It was quiet; barely a whisper. You tried for a wry smile. 

“I like helping, though. I don’t mind cleaning up or whatever. It makes me feel more useful.” You tried to tug your hand out of Zoro’s grip, but his fingers tightened, keeping you in place. A nervous laugh escaped your throat. “And I know I’m part of the crew and all of this is just silly. So it’s really fine—”

Zoro tugged your intertwined hands to his chest, causing you to stumble and glance down at him in surprise. His expression was nearly unreadable. It’d darkened, and there was a contemplative gaze in his eyes, lips parted with invisible words perched on his tongue. “Don’t do that,” he whispered, and your stomach dropped, the nervousness that had gathered inside during the conversation tightening up into a hall. “Don’t say it’s okay or that it’s not important. If it’s making you upset, then it matters.” 

“I guess,” you tried, and Zoro’s gaze lifted to fix you with a glare. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay, I just…” Zoro shook his head. “Look, whatever your parents used to tell you, whatever you have ingrained in your head—it’s not true. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to do more, but… you don’t have to do it. You’re enough already.” 

Your gaze softened, lips falling open to say something, but Zoro wasn’t finished yet. “You shouldn’t come out here and force yourself to clean up just to make up for your—waste of space, or something. You’re not a servant. And you’re not wasting up any space. I think everyone would agree that you’re a very important and vital part of the crew.” 

“Thanks,” you whispered. Zoro’s hand was warm around yours, and you felt the threatening droplets of tears start to rise up at your waterline, ready to fall at any moment now. Zoro just nodded. 

“You’re a great fighter, and way smarter than what you give yourself credit for,” he said firmly. He raised your hand to his mouth, then, leaning over to press a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. “And the boys on your island have to be blind, because you’re pretty enough. You’re more than pretty enough.”

He whispered the last words, all soft and sacred on his tongue. “You’re beautiful.” 

That was enough to drive your tears over the edge. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop the flow as the warm sensation of liquid streaking down your cheeks began. Droplets caught in the crevice of your lips, and at the hinge of your jaw—Zoro brought a hand up to wipe them away. “Are you okay?” he whispered. 

“Yeah, I just, um.” You shook your head, sniffing. “Thank you. That… helped. I think.” 

Zoro bummed out his response. “Of course,” he said easily. “You’re my girl. It’s my job to cheer you up.” He kissed your knuckles again. “And you can talk to any of us. I’m not really the best at this, but everyone else…” he shrugged. 

“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him. Zoro nodded, tugging you down until you finally took a seat on a crate beside him. “I think it’s just been worse lately.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re better than the waiter,” Zoro said. You just laughed. 

“I think you’re biased, but thank you,” you said. “Here, I, um, I promise I’ll let you know if I’m feeling down, I guess. If you don’t mind.” 

“Definitely don’t mind,” Zoro answered. This time he placed a gentle kiss on your neck, somewhere at the bottom near the back. “Leave the mopping for someone else. You’ve already done a lot.” 

“Okay,” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed as Zoro kissed the rest of the way up the back of your neck. He placed a final one right below your earlobe. With that, Zoro stood up, sweeping one arm under your legs and hoisting you up. You cracked open an eye to regard him with a blank look. “What are you doing?” 

“Bringing you back to my room,” Zoro answered. “You didn’t get much sleep tonight. And I doubt anyone wants to watch me kissing you on the main deck anyway.” 

That was fair enough reasoning, so you didn’t complain, letting him carry you all the way to his cabin and gently lay you down onto his bed. He leaned over to press a gentle kiss to your lips—you could still taste the saltwater from your tears from before. “Want me to stay?” Zoro asked. 

“You don’t have to,” you said automatically, and Zoro raised both his eyebrows. You let out a sigh. “Okay, I get it. Yes. Please stay.” 

“All you had to say,” Zoro said, shedding himself of his shoes and swords before leaning over the bed to watch you. He didn’t slip under the covers or anything, just propped an arm up on the mattress, kneeling beside the bed. There was tender silence for a few moments before Zoro spoke again. 

“I love you,” he said abruptly, voice rough but somehow still soft. Your heart beat too fast in your chest, ribcage squeezing in on the organ and making it skip. His hand slid along the mattress to find yours, and you took the offer, fingers clasping around his palm. 

“I love you too,” you whispered back. Zoe leaned over, then, the hand not intertwined with yours tilting your jaw over just so to allow him better access to your mouth. He kissed you full-on, tender but firm, mouth working against yours in a way that unraveled you entirely. Your grip on his hand tightened as he deepened the kiss, a soft sound emitting from low in your throat. Finally you broke apart, heaving for breath, exhales mixing together midair. An exchange of souls, you’d heard once, somewhere. 

“Come on,” you murmured, tugging Zoro closer to the bed so he got the hint. He slipped beside you onto it, turning your head again to meet you in another kiss. His hand drifted down to your waist, holding you securely in place.  

“I don’t think anyone should need us for a few more hours, right?” Zoro asked, and you laughed. He swallowed up the sounds with his mouth, tongue licking languidly into you as he rubbed delicate circles into the skin of your waist. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and then he was kissing you again. 

You let him siphon the soul out of your lungs, knowing you were getting his right back. 

© halfvalid 2023

#opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #opla #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #reader insert #x reader #one piece live action #one piece netflix #opla zoro x reader #opla fanfiction #opla fanfic #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #kiki writes!

[talaok]

Summary: you come to a realization as you see Spence with Henry

warnings: none, just fluff

A/n: yes please, I love this, send me thousands of fluffy Spencer prompts, writing them is better than therapy (sorry @rrrogertaylor Tumblr hates me and deleted your ask)

I want one

“Uh excuse me, everybody, I’ve got an announcement to make,” JJ said, walking into the office ” as I’m sure some of you were aware, Henry was a little nervous about going trick or treating this year” she stopped in the middle of the room, as she got the whole team’s attention “but, he’s decided to go anyway”

You smiled, joined by everyone else.

”great, what changed his mind?” Rossi asked.

“The bau did” she said”, I told him that he should go out on Halloween and try to figure out which monsters are real and which ones are not” she explained 

“so he wants to be a profiler,” Derek grinned.

“Ah” she raised a finger to correct him “he wants to be his favorite profiler”

She stepped aside, making space for Henry's big entrance.

The moment he and Penelope stepped into the room, a series of surprised and joyful shouts filled the room, the whole team melting at the cuteness in front of them.

But not you, no sound came out of your mouth when you saw the little, adorable, blonde-haired kid.

he was dressed like Spence, vest and all, even the sachel was exactly like his.

A warmth invaded your body at the sight,

a feeling so deep and resonant you could physically feel it,

one you had felt before,

and were feeling a lot lately,

but never like this,

never this clearly.

“Wow" Spencer bent down to meet the boy, his smile so wide its edges almost touched his ears " you look great henry” his eyes were glowing, happiness all that was visible.

 ”put this on here,” he said, reaching for his own badge to clip it on Henry's vest.

Your heart had either stopped or was beating faster than the speed of light, you weren't sure.

” oh, he’s official” Derek joked

”tell him” Penelope whispered into henry's ear

“E = mc2” The boy recited, making Spencer laugh, fully, happily.

“Oh, there it is!” Derek said, as Spencer gave Henry a high five.

“the other monsters don’t stand a chance” Blake joked

“I know," Jj said "should we go get some candy?" she asked her son" come on!” she gestured for him to follow her, which he more than happily complied to, dashing to take his mom's hand.

“Watch your back pretty boy” Derek patted spencer’s back, as he and Rossi exited the office.

Spencer was waving goodbye at henry as you walked closer to him, your knees feeling weak from all the combined emotions you were feeling,

you had no idea how to describe it, 

it was all confused,

but one thing wasn't

"I want one" you whispered to his ear, putting your arms around his torso,  hugging him from behind.

"mh?" he hummed confused, turning to you completely.

"I want one" you repeated sweetly

"what do you mean?"

"Babe" you smiled "I want one"

His mouth widened before it twitched into the biggest smile you had ever seen on him.

His eyes were twinkling as they scanned your whole face.

Were you being serious?

Yes.

Yes, you were being serious.

And he couldn't believe how lucky he was.

"You- you mean-?" he struggled to spit a whole sentence out as ecstasy took over him.

"Yes" you smiled widely too now "yes Spence, I want a kid" you said finally, leaning up to kiss him "I want your kid"

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #Im begging you on my knees tumblr PLEASE let the tags work

[lalal-99]

Sweet Thing {s.c.}

9 “ That feels good…” 14 “Spread your legs, sweet thing.” 33 “Please, just let me come!"

Changbin x afab!reader | trope: strangers to lovers, regular hookup turns serious | smut | wordcount: 1.8k

Synopsis: You know nothing about the hot guy you've been hooking up with for months. You're not even sure about his name. Obviously, you need to change that. In the middle of sex is probably not the right time, but so what?!

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

Smut Tags: Porn with Plot | Explicit Sexual Content | Making Out | Hook-up in Bathroom | Bathroom Sex | Fingering (reader rec.) | Oral (reader rec.) | Edging | Overstimulation | Teasing | Some Dirty Talk | Slight Praise Kink | Dom/Sub Undertones (Dom!Changbin) | Mirror Sex

Note: Well, I don't know what to say for myself. The prompt event happened in March/April 2022. And here I am, 2 years later. Some requested prompts are still in my inbox, and I do think I will write something for each eventually. For now, please enjoy this one :) Also, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due ;)

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness

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Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

“Spread your legs, sweet thing.”

Against every fibre in your body, you disobey and further the distance to the unbelievably attractive man instead. Much to his dismay.

“Hey,” he tilts your gaze towards himself by the touch of your jaw. A sweet gesture, seeing you were heavily making out seconds before. “What’s going on?”

Hidden away in the small bathroom of your favourite bar, you find yourself perched on the counter. Most definitely the product of the alcohol intoxicating your system.

“Sorry—” you excuse yourself, wiping your hands down the sides of face. “I’m good. Let’s keep going.”

Expecting him to continue where you had left of, you’re surprised to find him leaning against the wall. “Not until you tell me what’s going on in that stunning head of yours.”

A light blush spreads over your cheeks towards your ears and your lip wanders between your teeth. Because the reason for your distraction is so stupid.

“It’s just, we’ve been doing this for a while.” Hooking up at this very bar every weekend for the past few months. For the life of you, you can’t remember how it even started. Possibly with a conversation and his hand on your thigh. Probably with a few shots while celebrating your birthday. “And I don’t know anything about you.”

“Which hasn’t been a problem until now. So, where’s this coming from?”

The first few times were fun. Hooking up in the bathroom, words limited to the absolute necessary. If anything, it made it even hotter. Being with a stranger whose name you hardly remember. But then the comments started. You don’t know which of your friend was the first to say something. It might have been Seungmin, questioning how you could keep hooking up weekly without knowing the first thing about him.

And now you can’t shake the comment out of you if you try. The voice is a constant tenant of your metaphorical head-apartment. Living rent-free.

“My friends. They’ve been asking questions about you. None of which I can answer.” Which is stupid, because it shouldn’t matter. What matters is the incredibly handsome and muscular guy in front of you. Changbin— you think.

You’re surprised when he doesn’t laugh at or dismiss their concern. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.”

Cocking an eyebrow, you look down at his hands as they begin travelling up your thighs again. Leaving goosebumps as they burn into your skin.

“Do what?”

“Get to know each other. Might as well play 21 questions while we’re at it.”

His lips brush against your jaw before he urges them against your neck. Checking the quickening of your pulse as he licks at the veins.

“Come on. Hit me.”

But you can’t think. His touches are a true distraction, moans tumbling out of your mouth as you finally spread your legs for him. He slots between them, fitting like the last piece of a puzzle.

“You do know how 21 questions works, right?”

His hands grope at your flesh, pulling you closer until you can feel him against your most sensitive part. Why’d you have to speak up? He could have been inside you by now, but you had to open your stupid mouth.

“Yeah— Just— Can’t think.”

“Fine,” he gives in, pulling at your lip as he kisses you. You’re so hot, you wonder whether you’re nursing a fever. “I’ll tell you three things about me, then. Speed things up. ‘S that alright?”

“Please.” You’re begging now, nails digging into the skin of his bulky arms as he’s dragging his clothed crotch against you. “Feels so good.”

“First one.” Changbin pulls your top up over your breasts, freeing your bra. His thick fingers brush against your nipples, forcing a shudder through your body. “I go to the gym five times a week.”

“Obvious—ngh,” you agree turns into a throaty moan as he nibbles at your left breast. Your panties soaked already as you mumble into the night. “Deeper.”

“I’m not even inside you yet.” His chuckle vibrates through your torso. Then he grazes his teeth against your second nipple, and you might as well have lost your head.

“No. Tell me— fuck— tell something deeper. Something not— not everyone knows.”

You’re entering heaven when his hand wanders down your side and towards the hem of your skirt. It wiggles below the fabric, setting flames to your loins. You’re burning from the inside out as this stranger handles your body like he created it himself. Knows how to make you go absolutely insane. And that’s with his clothes still on.

“I call my mom every day.” That definitely fits the category of deep talk. Although, the thought of Changbin’s mother doesn’t exactly fit the moment. “Number three, I’d like to take you out one of these days.”

When the tip of his thumb reaches for your clit, you see the realisation hit his features in real time. You’ve ruined your panties and he can feel it. He has ruined you, and he can see it. From your rolled-back eyes to your tossed-back head. You’re in absolute ecstasy.

Changbin thumbs at your nub, drawing circles with your own wetness. Smirking with pride like a lunatic.

“Your turn, sweet thing. Three things about you, then you get to come.”

No words describe the hatred you feel for yourself when you realise he’s serious. The trajectory of earning your orgasm is as much arousing as it is frustrating. If only you hadn’t said a thing.

“I’m—” You tumble forward as his middle finger enters you. And him? He cocks his head at you, playing confused.

“Sorry? I don’t understand you. Can you speak up?”

Asshole.

“Music,” you mumble, breathless. “I like music. Listening. Making.”

“That’s one. You’re doing so good for me.” A kiss swallows the whine as he enters another finger. Your walls are clenching around him as his thumb practically attacks your clit. It feels so good, but it’s not enough and Changbin knows. “I tell you what. Give me a second, and I’ll give you a third. Sound good?”

You nod, frantic, needing—nay, craving—another one of his fingers.

“I’m good— good at— oh, God.” Hands are clawing at his shirt, the black and red fabric almost ripping from the strength he ignites in you. Your stomach is tensing tight, and he slows down. It’s an alarming promise, Changbin threatening to leave you high and dry if you don’t give him another one. A second fact about yourself. “Maths. I’m good at maths.”

You’re all but howling when he enters a third finger and curls them up against your spot. That’s when you loose the rest of control over your body. None of your movements are under your own command anymore, Changbin’s the sole reason you’re even still sitting upright.

“That’s two. I thought you were good at maths. You’re one short of earning my mouth, sweet thing.”

The promise alone almost makes you fall of the edge. His mouth on you. Coaxing you to your sweet, sweet release. It’s not far, but Changbin is the only one who can make you reach it. You don’t doubt he’ll leave you on the edge if you don’t give him a third fact.

It’s unfortunate that you can’t form coherent sentences anymore. Let alone think of a third fact about yourself. Absolutely pathetic.

“Please—” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stare up at him, begging, pleading. “Please, just let me come.”

“Nuh-uh,” he teases with a smirk. A soft kiss hits your nose, then your lips. “That’s not a fact, sweet thing. Don’t you want to come on my tongue?”

Again, the thought alone has you clenching on his fingers. You’re so full, so close, and yet, can’t think of anything.

Maybe if you copy one of his facts, he won’t notice, right? But what was it he said? Oh, right. Gym, mom, date. But, you don’t go to the gym and you don’t talk to your mom daily.

“So, what is it?”

“Date!” you blurt out and he looks confused. “Take me out.” But that’s a prompt, not a fact, so you correct even further, teetering on the edge of heaven and hell. “I’d like it, I mean.”

Changbin debates for a second whether your words count as a fact. You can tell he wants to tease you some more, relishes in it. Thank God, he decides against it.

A sigh of relief escapes you when he finally leans down, pushes your skirt up and connects his lips to yours. And that’s all it takes.

One second his tongue prods against your clit, the next you’re coming on it.

And come, you do. You’re sure you’re squirting all over his face as he swallows up every bit of your release. Cleans you with his mouth until you’re glistening in spit and overstimulation. It doesn’t seem he wants to leave the space between your thighs and you have to drag him away when it becomes too much.

“Sweet, sweet thing,” he teases with a smile when he comes up, licking his lips. His hair is a mess, likely from your hands tugging at the strands and he looks like sex-on-legs. Cheeks dark pink, lips just as, and eyes blurry from arousal. He’s so, so hot, and you’re heating up again already as he’s kissing your lips with pure passion. “So, about that date…”

“Name a place and a time. I’ll be there.”

He chuckles, pulling you from the counter and turning you around. You will never tire from him, treating you like a doll. Bending and breaking you as he pleases. Those damn muscles flex as his arms wrap around your body and he pushes you up against the sink.

“We’ll get there. In fact…” he pulls your skirt over your asscheeks, giving them a delicious squeeze as he hums. Next thing you know, he frees his cock, reaching into his jeans to pull out a condom. And you wonder how Changbin is still so hot while wrapping himself in the latex. “How about you come three more times.”

You gulp at the thought, finding him in the mirror.

“One for a time and one for a place.”

That’s only two. You’re good at maths, or at least you think you are. Changbin might have fucked that brain right out of you.

“And the last one— one— fuck, you’re tight,” he praises as he enters you from behind.

Once he bottoms out, he collects himself, flicking your nipples as he watches you through the glass. And yet again, you’re a chaotic mess in his hands. With your head thrown back against his chest, you’re sent straight back to your own personal nirvana.

That’s when Changbin finishes his prior statement, a proud smirk glued to his face. “The last one’s simply for good measure.”

Masterlist Leave your thoughts!

#kpop smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #kpop fanfic #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #changbin smut #stray kids fanfic #changbin x reader #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #stray kids hard hours #stray kids drabbles #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids fanfiction #skz drabbles #seo changbin smut

[matchamiko]

hello!! could I please request prompt 25 with toshinori?

˚₊ ⊹ 25. The first makeout session that could lead to more + Toshinori Yagi

˚₊ ⊹ Warnings: dry humping, previous established new relationship, canon small-might, making out.

He was - grading papers? Finishing off a report on the last homework he set? Actually writing the next homework assignment in fact? Either way, his coffee table was strewn with papers, some in neat piles and some discarded none to kindly, caught under the fans of his laptop open on a word document baring names and grades and percentages he’s not really focusing on right now.

You came over a few hours ago with a bento box or two for the next days at school. It was just something you started doing for him, claimed it was because he wasn’t eating enough and that your love language was cooking food for people, but you loved that he would kiss your cheek and parade it around the school wrapped in its cute cloth with its cute bow. And you kind of never left, chatting idly with him from the kitchen while you brewed tea, something soft for him and a herby concoction for yourself, something to make you sleepy and all the more acceptable.

Toshinori could taste it in your mouth. The tea and something else, something distinctly you. Leaning backwards as you cup his sharp jaw, smiling when you hum and kiss his nose affectionately. There was something on the TV, something mind numbing and calm, a documentary about Geisha's he thinks but he's too focussed on his work, and on you. The futon you'd insisted on setting up for him was comfortable, soft and heavy at the same time, a perfect support for his back while he was tucked up by the coffee table while you lounged like a cat on the couch behind him, asking lazily every few minutes for a kiss. This was the first one on the mouth. You'd started on the back of his head, then on his long frazzled strands framing his face and then his forehead, then his nose and when you pecked his lips; Toshinori found himself chasing and chasing and chasing.

"Don't tell the kids that I abandoned their grades for you," he's twisted at a strange angle with his lips muttering yours, a prayer only for you to taste, "Aizawa'll kill me if he knew,"

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed and drawing your hands up the sinewy expanse of his neck,

"You have your priorities in perfect order, thank you very much," Toshinori allows you to slink down to the floor, following the droop of your legs and curling into his lap with deep, yearning sigh "I require kisses and you're supplying them, you're serving your duty to your partner,"

He laughs and then moans with the shape of your lips on his jaw,

"I suppose, if you put it like that," he looks at you for a moment, a soft smile stretching over his features and you return it, a little something extra in your eyes he can't quite make out. You two had kissed before, a lot and often but this felt different, felt like honey trickling down his bones and crystallising hot in his belly. Toshinori hums with the tracing of your mouth over his neck, sucking something mean into his delicate skin and he shifts, hands settling on your hips.

Hips that slot deeper against his and give this shy little shudder. A large slender hand cups the back of your head where you practically vibrate against him, the air suddenly palpable and sweet. You think he might ask you to stop, that you've gone far enough and that he's not quite ready for anything more intense, given his injuries and situation and maybe he wants you to go home or even take a break or even -

"Do that again, please," he's far from sober, drinking your lips and swallowing your gushing whimpers, desperate for the kisses and the licks he's come to know so well. These are different, headier, a little smoky and a little dangerous, slow and hard and all things moreish. His free hand guides your hips, into what he's not sure but you gain confidence at his request, undulating with such wantonness that he's the first that moans out loud. Punched and loud and startling, Toshinori flushes right down to his stomach, peaking from where you'd shoved your hands under his shirt, hardly denting your frantic kisses. His grip is harsh, demanding and selfish, smoothing to your ass and this time it's you that grunts at the way he massages a spreads you, slouching lower and wider against the couch.

"I want - I wanna -," you're stuttering but it's from lust, from the sheer magnetic want for the man beneath you, heavy lidded and panting open mouthed, "Please, can we - we don't hav'ta but also, y'know?"

Toshinori kisses you again, slow and deliberate, decisive with his answer; wordless save for a whimper and a jerk.

all rights reserved © matchamiko. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#miko.prompt challenge #miko.chats #kisses u !!! #toshinori yagi x reader #all might x reader #all might smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader

[withloveajaxx]

are you forgetting something?

𓂅 genre: modern! childe, scaramouche, diluc, and xiao x gn! reader fluff

𓂅 warnings: none 

𓂅 summary: how they react when you forget to kiss them or say "i love you" back to them before you leave 

𓂅 notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONEE. here's some smol hcs to kick off 2023 hehe. i've never really written for scaramouche before so forgive me if his characterization is a little off for this fic :"D i'm trying to slowly get back into writing for genshin so i'm going with a classic, fluffy crack prompt that i've always felt like writing ^^ hope you guys enjoy and have a wonderful day ahead!! 

CHILDE

he's dropping you off at your friend's house for your little night out and your rushing to belatedly make yourself a little more presentable 

childe can't help but chuckle when you turn to him asking, "what do you think? do i look alright?" 

"you look beautiful as always, love. now go get in there before your late."

he leans his cheek closer to you, expecting a goodbye peck when you open the door to get out. "take care and call me when you need to get picked up, alright?" when you hum in response he adds, "love you!" 

"yup! see you, ajax!" you reply, getting out and shutting the door. at this, childe is offended, jaw dropping at the lack of a reply and a kiss. 

he thinks this is completely unacceptable. mans literally honks his horn aggressively until you come back to the car, brows furrowed in wordless confusion. 

"excuse me?" he questions you, rolling down the window with a faux pout on his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest. "are you forgetting something?" 

cheeky bastard taps his cheek with raised brows in part question and part demand. "i said i love you too, you know?" 

you can't help but laugh at his absurd behaviour, leaning into the window to finally plant a kiss on his awaiting cheek. his charming smile finally makes its way back onto his features when you accompany your gesture with a, "love you too." 

"mhm. now get in there and have fun. i'll see you later, love.". he can't help the slight blush that dusts his freckle filled cheeks when you peck him one last time, just for good measure, before heading inside the house. god he was so whipped for you. 

SCARAMOUCHE

when you're rushing to leave your shared apartment for a class you were running late for one day, scara is suffering on the couch with his laptop on, research document open and empty. 

he eyes you as you're rushing to gather all your bags and other belongings, making sure you don't trip or hurt yourself in a rush from a distance. 

once you finally have all your things, you turn to see scara, who is already glaring at the blank document on his laptop. 

in usual fashion, he hears you greet him a goodbye with, "i'm heading out now. see you later, kuni." 

in an unusual fashion however, he doesn't hear the familiar and cheerful "i love you!" that escapes your lips once you open the door. 

he coughs loudly and repeatedly when you put even a single foot out the door and levels you with a look that screams "are you stupid?" 

"what?" you ask him obliviously, rechecking all your bags and documents before also asking, "am i forgetting something?"

"yeah. a really important thing," he comments with an unreadably, deadpan face. when a confused silence is all he gets in reply, he sighs, narrowing his eyes at you with a light blush blooming across his cheeks.

"don't make me say it.". it's only then that you realize what you forgot, smiling and laughing lightheartedly with amusement. 

"you're cute kuni." his cheeks flush brighter at the statement. "i love you and take care!". he returns your greeting with an exasparated sigh and a light nod before you go rushing out the door, unable to witness the smallest smile that creeps onto his lips.

DILUC

it's a daily routine for you guys to get ready for school/work together and greet each other with a goodbye kiss once you part ways. 

on a particular day when you had a really important presentation, the walk to your usual parting point was enveloped in a comfortable silence. 

diluc simply held your hand and let you practice your presentation, muttering unintelligible words and phrases under your breath. 

when you finally get to parting ways, diluc takes a moment to encourage you for your presentation. 

"good luck with your speech today, darling. i know you can do it. i'll see you when i get home alright?"

you nod absentmindedly, smiling before routinely pecking diluc's cheek. "mhm. have a good day, luc." 

when you start to walk away, he grabs your wrist gently and unexpectedly, turning you to face him once more. 

"yes, luc?" you ask curiously, intertwining your fingers with his own gingerly. 

"you're forgetting something, love," he chuckles lightly, squeezing your intertwined hands gently. "i love you." 

a soft smile adorns both your features as you give diluc a lingering kiss before replying with your own "i love you", regrettingly parting ways afterwards. 

XIAO

both you and xiao are walking into the school's campus. after a mundane lunch, it was time for both of you to part ways and get to classes. 

he accompanies you to your class, walking with you hand in hand in the school's surprisingly free hallways.

the short stroll is accompanied by a comfortable silence, the lack of a crowd of students creating a peaceful atmosphere. 

it's only when you arrive at your lecture hall that xiao loosens his hold on your hand, gesturing for you to go inside. 

your friends are excitedly waving at you from the other side of the hall, thus you hurry to get to them.

"i'll see you later, okay?" you squeeze his hand reassuringly before looking at your friends with a glimmer of excitement. "bye, xiao!" 

the moment you let go of his hand without your usual goodbye kiss or at least an 'i love you', his hand subconsciously reaches out for yours once again. 

thankfully, you take notice of his action and turn to him once more with a quizzical look on your face. "is something wrong?" you ask him.

he wants to say something about you forgetting to give him a kiss but the thought of saying something so sappy makes his face heat up in embarrassment. you can tell he wants to say something by the unsure look in his eyes, but he holds himself back, shaking his head. "nothing. you should head to class." 

the blush gives him off entirely because you can read him like an open book. his heart skips multiple beats when you lean in and plant a brief kiss on his cheek with a wide smile. "there. love you, and see you later, okay?". his cheeks flare up even more as he replies, "mhm. love you too…"

© withloveajaxx 2023. please do not copy, plagarize, or translate in any way.

#iely's writing #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #childe headcanons #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche headcanons #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #diluc headcanons #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #xiao headcanons #01/01/2023

[queen-of-fanfics]

Come Back to Me

Stay Away From Him pt. 2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Prompt: Miguel has been away on a mission for too long and he comes back different.

A/N: I LOVE YOU GUYS! I am so happy that you guys loved part 1 so much that I knew I had to write some more. 99.99% of everyone asked for fluff, but unfortunately for everyone, I excel in tension and dramatic ass scenes. This scenario literally came to me in my dreams so I had to write it. I'm tagging everyone that left me a message or mentioned they would like a part 2. I hope you guys like it and don't hate me if you don't!

For new readers, welcome! You do not need to read part 1 to understand this part. If you guys hate this part, I will write more and I'll write some fluff to make up for it lol

Part 1

Taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh, you roll your shoulders and stretch out your muscles. You were inside Miguel’s chamber at your desk where you work. It was quiet there, only a few people were working about but none were talking above hushed whispers. Looking over the top of your monitor to see who was around, you notice that a few people were already looking at you before their glances shot away when you made eye contact with them. You think it was strange but you have been catching weird glances from people for a few weeks now. 

 Looking over at the empty dais, your heart pangs a little when you are reminded that Miguel isn’t there. It’s been about a month since your incident with Miguel. And every day since then, things have been awkward. Miguel was sending you off to help other people and giving you work that would keep you away for days at a time. He barely said a few words to you and looked at you even less. 

A week after the incident happened, a mission came up and Miguel went to handle it. That was 2 weeks ago. It’s been radio silent since then. Jessica assures you that Miguel is checking in with her and everything is fine. She says that she’s been in contact with him and helping him through his mission, but still, that didn’t reassure you. Miguel always went over every mission with you. You always assisted him through every trip. You were his eyes and ears then all of a sudden he doesn’t even want to tell you he’s leaving or where he was going? 

You were tempted to ask him not to go but you held your tongue. Ever since Miguel left, you had a bad feeling in your gut but you ignored it. Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to me. That’s fine! If he wants to get all moody and dramatic then fine. He can check in with Jessica then. Have her run around for him. Huffing out a breath again, you refocus on the task you were working on.

You were pulled out of your focus when you heard in the distance, “Everyone, we are going into a soft lockdown. I repeat, soft lockdown. Gwen and Hobie meet up in Room 5. Keep it quiet. Y/N is still in the dark. Let’s keep it that way.” It sounded like Jessica’s voice coming through someone’s personal intercom. Picking up your own device, you check if you had accidentally turned it off since it didn’t go through yours, but it’s on. This means that Jessica purposefully sent out the message to everyone else, except for you. Y/N is still in the dark?

Pretending to stretch and yawn, you sneak a glance around the room again. The few people that were left in the room were huddled together, a few were walking out of the room urgently. But what made a shiver run up your spine was that everyone was looking at you. Everyone is hiding something from you. That is clear now. You weren’t sure what they were hiding but something in your gut is telling you it was bad. And it’s something to do with Miguel.

Room 5. She said they were meeting in Room 5. Not really sure where that is or what’s in there but it has got to explain why everyone has been acting so strangely. Standing up from your desk, the conversations in the room immediately stop and it’s utterly silent. Trying to act as normal as possible, you slowly walk out of the room. 

After what felt like hours with your heart beating out of your chest, you finally found “Room 5”. Slowly creeping into the room, you can see that it is empty except for a giant cage in the middle of the room. The room is dark and there seems to be only one light directly above the cage. Surrounding the cage were Jessica, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker, and inside the cage … was Miguel. 

Except, it wasn’t Miguel. The Miguel in the cage was feral and animalistic. He was hunched over and crouched down low as if he was ready to attack. His arms are held out low to his side and his claws are extended. Though Miguel is already a naturally large guy, his tensed and flexed muscles seem to be bulging out more, giving him that beast-like appearance. His hair was a completely tangled mess, wild and unkempt. His breathing is frantic and unstable. Though he looks a mess, he is standing utterly still. 

This isn’t Miguel. This isn’t your Miguel. Something is wrong. Something is seriously wrong.

Sneaking into the room and sticking to the shadows, no one in the room senses that you’re there. Everyone except for Miguel. As you slip into the room, he turns his head and watches you from over his shoulder but doesn’t make any other movements. Seeing him now, you could see that his lips are pulled back so that his fangs are out and on display. His eyes are wild and bloodshot red, though when he sees you, his eyes focus on you as if you’re prey. He doesn’t move and doesn’t make any sounds at you so you remain hidden from everyone else.

Everyone is oblivious to your presence and their conversation continues. Gwen is arguing with Jessica and it looks as though Peter is trying to keep the peace, though he’s not doing a good job. Hobie is casually leaning against the wall nearby giving off a nonchalant appearance but the look on his face indicates that he is upset.

“You can’t do this, Jessica! It could kill him!”

“What choice do we have? The next time he escapes, who knows what could happen. If the antidote doesn’t kill him then the poison that’s already in him will!”

“We still have time to find another way. Maybe he just needs more time and it’ll wear off.”

“Gwen, he doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t even talk! All he does is growl and attack anyone that gets too close. This is getting out of hand!”

“Why don’t we tell, Y/N? Y/N should know about this. And you know as well as anyone else, he has a soft spot for her. Maybe she can help!”

“He’s been back for two weeks and he hasn’t gotten better. If he was going to get better he would have shown signs of it by now. If Y/N knows and he doesn’t snap out of it, how do you think Y/N would take it?”

“Why don’t you ask me?” You finally had enough and decided to make yourself known. Everyone turns abruptly as you step forward further into the room to be seen under the light. 

“Two weeks?” You whisper as you look each one of them in the eyes and feeling betrayed, “He’s been back for two weeks and no one told me? None of you told me.”

Inside the cage, Miguel turns his body completely to be fully facing you now. The entire time, his eyes never leave you. Finally having the time to look him over completely, what you saw broke your heart. He looked tired but also on high alert to attack. There were dark bags under his eyes and his face seems sunken in. His eyes seem to soften slightly as he looks back at you but his face is still grimacing. While you were too busy watching him, what you didn’t see was all the knowing looks that everyone else was passing to each other. 

“Not only did you keep this from me, but now I learn that you want to kill him?!” Instead of feeling hurt, now your adrenaline is kicking in. You’re feeling angry and upset and … panicked. Your mind feels like it’s on a high and you’re acting without thinking.

“No, Y/N, we aren’t killing him. We managed to create an antidote but it only has a small chance of working … and a big chance of killing him. But it’s the only choice we got!” Jessica tries to reason with you.

“And you would take that chance?” How could they even consider this an option? I have to do something and do it quick.

“We don’t have another choice.” Peter jumps in now, speaking in a calm tone.

“Let’s think about it some more.” Gwen is speaking to Jessica now and their original argument from when you first entered the room resumes. The three go back to arguing with one another and Hobie still stays on the sidelines. Except this time, he’s not watching them. He’s watching you. He’s giving you an intense look as if he was trying to tell you a message. 

Slowly but pointedly, he looks at the door of the cage. Following his line of sight, you look back at the cage. The cage is locked but the key is a fingerprint pad. Which means that anyone who has clearance can open it. And you have clearance. Being Miguel’s assistant, you are allowed clearance to nearly everything he is. Looking back at Hobie, he inclines his head slightly to the cage and gives you one firm nod of confirmation.

Throwing a quick glance at the arguing three to confirm that they are preoccupied, without giving it a second thought, you take off running for the cage. Before anyone could react, you slam your hand down onto the pad. Less than a second later, you are throwing the door to the cage open and slamming it shut behind you. “Are you out of your mind?!” You hear Gwen yell at you and the others are yelling too but you’re not listening.

Now you’re staring face-to-face with a feral Miguel. Miguel has crouched low at your sudden entrance and his claws and fangs are fully on display, though he doesn’t move close to you. He’s standing still and watching you for your move. The world seems to fade away and your sole focus is on him but you could feel the flurry going on outside of the cage. But you don’t look, you keep your attention strictly on his face. 

Half expecting to be mauled to death the instant you got inside the cage, you are happily surprised that Miguel seems more cautious of you at the moment. Testing your luck, you hold out both hands in front of you and take a hesitant step forward. Again to your surprise, Miguel inches back. Testing it again, you take a full step this time, and again he backs away from you.

“Careful, now.” Hobie sounds close. Turning to look over your shoulder, you see that Hobie is walking closer to the cage. Miguel lets out a low growl and your eyes shoot back to him. But looking back at him, his stance is different. He looks like he’s ready to pounce. His expression has also turned more deadly and angry. But rather than looking at you like you expected, he’s staring over your shoulder. He’s watching Hobie.

You can hear Hobie’s steps getting closer and the closer he comes, the more agitated Miguel gets. Miguel is starting to walk closer to you now but his eyes are still fixed on Hobie. Seeing that Miguel is moving towards you, Hobie says. “Y/N, I think it’s time to go. Let’s not push our luck, yeah?” Hobie is speaking in a serious tone, he’s not asking.

Without warning, Hobie shoots out his web onto your back and pulls you back towards the door. Your body is jerked back but you don’t get far because suddenly Miguel is there. He jumps forward and wraps one arm around your body and his other arm shoots to your back and slashes the web off of you. The web breaks easily under his claws and he is pulling you back further into the cage. He stops in the middle of the cage where he abruptly lays you down on the floor. 

Thinking that he’s attacking you, your hands shoot up to your face but when nothing hits you, you peek through your fingers and look up at him. Miguel is crouching on all fours atop of you as you’re laid out completely on your back. His knees are straddling your thighs and his hands are on either side of your head. He is hunched low as if he was protecting your body. His face is looking up, you assume it’s towards Hobie still.

“Hey.” You whisper. He only shoots you a quick look but his head jerks back up again. Finding the courage, you try again, “Hey.” Except this time, you gingerly bring your hand up and let your fingers touch his cheek. He jerks at the touch and turns his head to look down at you. That motion puts his face firmly in your hand and now you’re cupping his face.

“Hey there, big guy.” He’s leaning into your touch and his body falls even lower. Your other hand comes up and it rests on his chest and you could feel his heart beating as if he just ran a marathon. All he does is just stare at you. You were waiting for something to happen. Maybe he’ll snap out of it and become normal again. Maybe he will just snap your neck and be done with it. But no. He doesn’t move. Just looks at you.

“Y/N, can you get out?” Jessica asks from somewhere in the room.

“I’m not going anywhere. He’s fine. Keep working on an antidote that will actually help him. I’ll keep him calm.” No one responds back to you but you can hear footsteps receding and you know that you two are now alone in the room. A few beats go by in the silence before Miguel starts showing signs of relaxing. 

His lower body lowers and is laying on top of you. Miguel falls down to his elbows and it brings his face even closer to yours. He nuzzles the top of your head and you could feel the tip of his nose run through your hair as he travels down your body. Your hand that was resting on his cheek travels down his neck and lands against his chest. Your close your eyes and will yourself to keep a clear head.

The tip of his nose runs down to your cheek and he stills for just one moment when his lips graze yours. “What happened to you? I’m scared. Come back to me.” You whisper against his lips. You suck in a breath when his tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip but he doesn’t respond. One of his hands comes up to cup one side of your neck, keeping you still. His hand tightens ever so slightly there, not hard but putting enough pressure to make your heart skip. 

He continues his exploration of you with the tip of his nose. His nose drags along your jawline which makes you tint your head up in response to give him more access. Taking it as an invitation, Miguel continues and comes up to your ear, and gives you a little nibble there. You notice that your breathing has turned to panting. He continues to play with your ear by tracing with his lips. Goosebumps appear on your skin as your body grows warmer and warmer. Your head feels intoxicated and no thoughts filter into your head, only your senses are alive.

You let out a loud gasp when Miguel suddenly nuzzles into your exposed neck and you could feel him smiling against your skin. His hand around your neck tightens some more and it pulls you closer. He runs his lips softly over your skin, feathering light kisses wherever he pleases. To your surprise, you feel a nick of pain on your neck and you realize that he gave you a bite with his fangs. You feel his tongue come out again and lick up the bit of blood that escapes. A shiver of excitement travels down your body and you have to mentally shake yourself. This feels wrong but you don’t have the heart to tell him to stop. 

“Come back to me.” You whisper again almost like a prayer this time.

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

It’s many hours later, well into the night,  and Jessica and Hobie came back to check on you. They’re standing side by side outside of the cage staring at the spectacle that’s in front of them. Jessica with her arms crossed in front of her chest and Hobie with his hands on his hips. “Huh. Ain’t that something?” Hobie asks.

In the middle of the cage are you and Miguel, sleeping soundly. You are curled into his front and he is curled around you like his limbs are vines. An arm is under your head, keeping you off the hard concrete floor, the other arm curled around you and wrapping up your back. His lower body is curled up tight against you. His body acting like a shield. You two fit perfectly together. Your hair was a mess and even from across the room, they could tell that your clothes were all rumpled.

“You think those two ever going figure it out?” Jessica asks.

“We’ll they haven’t so far. They wouldn’t be able to see what’s right in front of them even if a bus hit ‘em.”

She lets out a scoff of amusement, “I know. Remember when Y/N snapped at him and he was mopey for a whole week? God that was hell."

"Yeah? You shoulda seen how this one was sighing around while he was 'away'." Hobie shoots back at her with a chuckle.

"Anywho, I didn’t think the poison would’ve been that strong though. I was hoping to have this done in less than a week.”

“Eh, I might have given him a little more than we planned.” “Of course you did,” she lets out a sigh, “Guess that explains why it took him so long to calm down. It should be wearing off soon right?”

“Yeah, day or so.”

“Good. Let’s see them try to deny their feelings after this.”

tag: @bravest-hobbit @supaprettyg @itspinkdemon @fluffybunnyu @couchpotato2006 @adamsloverboy @aaalllice @namjoonsdimplesssss @onlyhimmi @dabu123 @fog-sama @yaichidragneel @sajova @iovaki @princessos-blog @bruhhvv@idratherbesleepingrn @shadyempathmoneycroissant-blog @starrdust11 @zaynabsblog @asfaltite @kuromidarkmoon @liz96893 @ceoofghosts @miaasmf @cosmicmagicgirl @alicefallsintotherabbithole @yamishibai09 @skylarlyn823 @dreamingofbucky @ngz18 @lemonmoonmochi @rattlethemskulls @iheartspderman @bobatealee @honeydrop-bunny @karrinn30 @winterwillow24 @blut00f @teyyyteyyy @urlovecarla @stealingyourturts @gothamsirenz @tazplum05 @greenteacats @the-smut-plug

#fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #writing #spiderman #spiderman fanfic #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fanfic #hobie fanfiction

[spaceyaceface]

Only In Dreams

Ominis Gaunt x f!Reader/MC

This fic was written based on the angst prompt the wonderful @applinsandoranges gave me!!! I had SUCH a great time writing this, thank you so so much lovely! There's definitely a lot of angst in here, but I am but a softy, and couldn't help but give it a happy ending :)

Summary: She spent her days in love with him, and her nights wishing they were together. But she knew it would never be---Ominis Gaunt had sworn off love for the sake of ending his family's legacy. She knew she wouldn't be an exception to that.

Prompt: “I’d rather sleep in all day ‘til I’m dead”

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Angst

It hurt, being so in love with her best friend. 

It hurt even more when even sleep didn’t let her escape from it. 

She woke with a start, hand reaching up to brush over her lips, recalling the echo of his breath mingling with hers from just before she awoke. The first few times she’d had that dream she couldn’t help but shed a few tears. Now, though, she only released a shuddering breath and arose to begin her day. 

The dream was always the same. They were standing in some room—she wasn’t sure where, exactly, but that didn’t matter. All she saw was him. He smiled, and told her that he loved her. Then he leaned closer, closer—

And there it ended. 

Night after night, she lived through the same tormenting scenario, one she was absolutely certain was impossible. 

She had been in love with Ominis Gaunt since the summer after her sixth year when he came to visit her small flat in London. They had walked down the street, arm in arm under the flickering streetlights. When they had stopped on a bridge and he offered her his coat, she knew she was doomed. It had only gotten worse since then. Every innocent touch felt like fire. The rare laughs he gave when in the company of his closest friends made her stomach tumble end over end. And in the night, when she fell asleep thinking of him, he found his way into her dreams. 

Maybe they were nightmares. She didn’t know what to call them anymore. All she knew is that they were painful, showing the desires that could never be. 

Ominis had told her several times throughout their friendship that he planned on never marrying. It would be selfish of him, he insisted, dragging any undeserving person into the mess that was the Gaunts. To ask someone to bear that name—the possibility of children forced to have it—it was too much. No, he had told her. He couldn’t do that to anyone. Better not to love when he was certain it would result in nothing but continuing his family’s legacy of pain. 

Back before her feelings for him had fully come about, she had tried to argue against his stance. Ridiculous, she had told him. Why should their mistakes define whatever happiness you might find? But it was useless. When the subject came up after she had fallen like stones were tied to her feet she felt she couldn’t speak on the issue. Before, it had been for him. For his happiness. But suddenly, it felt like she was trying to convince him for her sake. 

She knew full well that she would not be an exception to his decision, as little as she cared about what the name Gaunt would mean if it ever became hers. 

As she finished dressing, she sat on her bed, closing her eyes and sighing. What she wouldn’t give to live in that dream. Where none of that mattered. Where he felt the same. Where that ache in her chest became a flame of excitement and hope. 

Just as she had every day for the past month, she walked down to the Great Hall, as if there was nothing wrong at all. 

Despite the pain of having what she wanted so near, she couldn’t help but seek out Ominis’s calming presence. She was a moth to his soothing flame, eager to hear his quiet voice as he whispered witty remarks, desperate to let her hand brush his as they walked. So when she entered the Great Hall and saw him talking to Sebastian, she smiled. 

His head tilted toward her as she approached, having long memorized the sound of her footsteps. His soft smile graced his lips. “I swear, you get here later and later every day. Soon enough you’ll be missing breakfast all together.”

She chuckled. “I’ll just have Sebastian help me nick something from the kitchens when I do.” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Please. You know stealing from the kitchen is easier than anything. If you need help with that, you’re hopeless.” 

“Maybe I just wanted the company.”

“Are you suggesting Sebastian is good company?” Ominis said, smirking.

“I never said good or bad. He is entertaining, in the least.” 

Sebastian tore off part of the toast he’d been eating and threw it at her. “I don’t know why I talk to the two of you. There’s never a break from the torment.”

“Except right now,” Ominis said. “Off to Ancient Runes you go, unless you’d rather join us for History of Magic.”

He scoffed. “Never. I can’t believe the two of you still take that class. Voluntarily.” 

“It’s an interesting subject, Binns is just an awful professor,” she said.

Ominis shrugged. “I just take it for my beauty sleep.” 

“Merlin knows you need it,” Sebastian said, patting Ominis’s shoulder and starting down the hall. “I’ll see the two of you later.” 

She and Ominis began walking to class, one of the rituals they had together. She’d always enjoyed having this class with him, whether it was spent sharing not-so-quiet whispers or nodding off for a morning nap, it was always nice. 

And as she watched Ominis as he laid his head against his hand, she remembered just why she didn’t mind the nodding-off days. 

He looked so peaceful as he napped, his protected expression giving way to one of pure bliss. It always made her sad to think she saw that softness from him so rarely—it made her hate his family all the more for stealing that from him, like so much else. 

She didn’t know how long she sat, watching him sleep. She didn’t know how long it was until she dozed off herself. But suddenly, there she was, once again. 

All she could focus on was his face tilted down toward her, his hands grasping her own. The rest of the world around them was a blur—it didn’t matter. Not when he was there with her, grinning like a fool. 

“I should have told you ages ago,” he said. “I love you. More than anything.”

The words came so easily. “I love you, too.” 

He leaned forward, placing a hand on her cheek to help guide him. She would wake up any second now, she knew. She would open her eyes and—

His lips met hers. They were soft, gentle. Her head was spinning, heart pounding in her ears. She tilted her head just so—

The jostle on her shoulder catapulted her back to reality. Her breath was coming fast as she looked over at Ominis, his hand still on her arm. A quick glance around the near-empty classroom told her class had just ended. 

“Sorry to wake you, but it’s time to go,” Ominis said. 

He stood and offered his hand to her. Fighting warmth in her face, she took it, letting go quickly once she was on her feet. His brows furrowed. He seemed to have noticed the slight tremor in her hand. 

They walked down the hall, heading to their next lesson. She couldn’t look at him—not without seeing the image of him in her dream. She did her best to act normal, chatting with him softly as they went. 

But Ominis knew her too well. He stopped at the end of one of the corridors and turned toward her. “Are you alright? You’re acting… off.” 

She pressed her lips together. “I’m fine, Ominis.”

“You don’t seem fine,” he said softly, taking a step closer to her. She sucked in a sharp breath. “Did… did you have a nightmare, just now in class?”

Only he could see right through her like that. “No, not really. It was just a dream.”

“Just a dream?” He shifted his weight, shaking his head a bit. “I don’t think it qualifies as ‘just a dream’ if it’s left you in a state like this.”

“It was… it was a dream that couldn’t come true, alright?” she said softly. “I can’t explain any more than that.” 

“Maybe if you talked about it, it would help—”

“Ominis, please,” she said, voice pleading. “Drop it. I can’t talk about it.”

And drop it he did. 

He was so bloody kind. So damn respectful. It made her want to bawl her eyes out. 

The dreams only got worse in the coming days. She imagined the feeling of his lips on hers nearly every night, and then it progressed to more soft moments she had always been longing for—laying side by side in a field, hands intertwined, his arms wrapped around her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead—and then the worst of all. Ominis, standing down an aisle, soft music playing as she stepped toward him. 

That was the one that destroyed her. She woke up in tears, curling up in the corner of the bed and trying not to wake her dorm mates with her sobs. Of all the cruel things her mind could conjure up, that one stung like a knife to the heart, because there was nothing she wanted more than to devote herself completely to the man she loved so much. 

She thought about avoiding him for a while. See if it would get the dreams to stop. But each time she went someone, determined not to talk to him or look his way, there he was, a lighthouse shining out for her ship so lost at sea. He called her home to him, time after time, and she went, no matter how much it hurt. 

It was Sebastian who finally called her out for her strange behavior. She knew it had only been a matter of time. She was too anxious, too jumpy compared to normal. Shen her two friends would bicker, she would find herself lost in thought, only to be startled when one of them asked her a question. 

“What’s been going on with you?” Sebastian asked as the two of them settled on the floor of the Undercroft. “We’ve been worried. You’re not yourself.”

A million options of what to tell him ran through her head. But after just a moment or two, she finally settled on what to say—the truth. 

“I love him, Sebastian,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. Instinctively, she pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her head on them. “I love him so much, and I don’t…” The tears started coming, and once they began, she couldn’t stop them. Sobs worked their way up her throat, all of the aches she had built up for months finally letting loose. 

Sebastian rushed to comfort her, albeit a bit taken back by the outburst of emotion. He rubbed his hand over her back, trying to soothe her. “Hey—hey, it’s alright. You’ll be alright,” he said softly. 

She tried to regain control. It was difficult, but she focused on taking deep breaths. When Sebastian saw she had calmed down enough to talk once more, he let out a sigh. “You’re talking about Ominis?” 

She nodded, not trusting her voice. 

“Can I ask how long?” 

“Since he visited me last summer but… God, Sebastian, it’s only been getting worse.” She took a shuddering breath. “For weeks now, I’ve dreamed that he feels the same, even though I know he’ll never…” She bit her lip, eyes welling up once more. 

“A dream that couldn’t come true,” Sebastian said, sounding far off. Ominis had told him of his worries after History of Magic, of course. Now it all made sense. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I know it’ll never happen,” she said. “He made it very clear he has no intention to pursue anyone like that. I’ve accepted it.” 

She wished Sebastian could reassure her. Tell her no, you’ve got it all wrong, he’s mad for you. But they both knew their friend—that he had locked up his heart and thrown away the key, despite any and all protest from them. So Sebastian didn’t say empty words of ‘you never know’ or ‘it could work out’ or ‘you’ve still got a chance’. Instead, he looked at her with eyes full of sorrow, and offered a tight lipped smile. “Do you think it would help if you just told him?” 

“Maybe,” she admitted. “Then I could put it to rest. I could stop fooling myself that there could be a way to make things work.” She could stop dreaming about it.

Sebastian left. He promised he would find Ominis, send him down there to talk to her. She’d have a few minutes to gather her courage, to find the right words.

And then it’d be over. 

She could only hope it wouldn’t destroy their friendship—all the good they had built. She needed him, desperately, in any way she could have him. He was the anchor in her life. 

When the door to the Undercroft opened, she felt like she might suffocate. He called out her name. 

“Are you alright? Sebastian said you needed to talk, what’s going on?” His voice was on the verge of panic. It pulled at the most tender parts of her heart. In a moment, he stood in front of her, putting away his wand. “What’s happened?”

She closed her eyes, steeling herself up. “I’m fine, Ominis, I just needed to tell you something. Something I hope doesn’t ruin everything.” 

“Ruin…” His voice trailed off. “I’m… afraid I don’t follow.” 

“I love you, Ominis.” The words, the ones that she had locked away for so long, the ones she had swore to herself she would never utter, pierced the air with sudden sharpness. She watched Ominis’s expression wash away, an empty slate of utter shock overtaking it. “I love you. I… I needed you to know that. I’m sorry. I don’t expect anything from you. You’ve already told me you would never love another like this. I suppose my heart just couldn’t heed those warnings.”

He didn’t even seem to be breathing. His mouth opened slowly, as if trying to form a response, but closed again. 

She brushed her hand on his arm. “It’s ok. You don’t need to say anything. I just needed to put this all to rest. I hope…” her voice trembled. “I hope we can remain as friends.”

She left him alone in the Undercroft before she could start sobbing yet again. 

-

When Ominis entered the common room, he was an utter mess. 

Sebastian had waited up for him—he expected he would need to talk after everything happened. By the time Ominis finally came back, everyone else had gone off to bed. 

Ominis’s usually neat hair was disheveled from running his hands through it over and over again. His blazer was held bunched up in his arm, no care for the later wrinkles it was sure to have. The hand holding his wand in front of him was shaking terribly. 

“I take it she told you?” Sebastian said softly, clearly worried about the state of his friend. 

Ominis didn’t answer, dropping his coat on one of the sofas and pressing his hands to his face. 

“What happened? What did you say to her?” Sebastian asked. If this was how Ominis had fared after their conversation, he could only imagine how she was doing. 

“I didn’t say anything.” Ominis’s voice was quiet. Hollow. 

“You—hold on, she laid her heart out to you, and you didn’t say anything?” Sebastian stood,  folding his arms across his chest.

“What was I supposed to say, Sebastian?” Ominis said. “My mind went blank.”

“You tell her it’ll be alright!” Sebastian replied, anger edging its way into his voice. “You tell her that even if you don’t love her the same, you’ll still be there for her.” 

“I can’t lie to her, she’d see right through it,” Ominis said. 

“So you’re abandoning her, then?” Sebastian took a step closer to his friend. “You can’t handle knowing she cares so deeply for you, so you cut her off?”

“That’s not what I’d be lying about!” 

Ominis collapsed onto the sofa, head falling into his hands. The meaning of his words slowly sank in. 

“You love her, too?” 

His silence was enough of an answer. 

“Then why didn’t you tell her that?” Sebastian’s voice had lost all of its fury as he came to sit next to his friend. 

“How could I?” Ominis scoffed. “You know what I’ve always said. I don’t want to drag anyone into my mess of a family. I thought I could simply… not fall in love. It sounded easy enough. But she came along and…” He shook his head, sighing. “How could I ask her to be part of all of that?” 

“But you wouldn’t be,” Sebastian said. “You wouldn’t be asking her to be part of your family. You’d be asking her to be with you. I think she’s made it pretty clear she would say yes to that in a heartbeat.” 

“Sebastian, you don’t—”

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You deserve to find happiness. You’ve found it in her. Your bloodline shouldn’t determine that for you.” 

“I…” Ominis pressed his lips together. “I’ll think about it.”

Sebastian sighed. “I suppose that’s the best I’m going to get.” He stood, patting his friend on the shoulder. “I’m off to bed. If you have any sense in you, you’ll tell her first thing in the morning.” 

It was a good long while later when Ominis finally entered the dorm room. Even as he laid out on his bed, sleep evaded him. When the first bit of sunlight began to warm the room, Ominis pulled himself out of his mess of sheets. 

First thing in the morning it was. 

He didn’t even know if she would be awake yet, or if she would have been out of her dorm. But he couldn’t lay in his bed a moment longer. He’d search for her, for hours if he needed to, just to feel like he was doing something. 

Funny how she was at the first place he looked. 

She’d always been fond of the boathouse. She’d told him how some nights when she couldn’t sleep, she’d sit out there to look out at the stars. It was always quiet there, just the lapping of gentle waves from the lake and a soft breeze. She was leaning against the railing of the dock, his wand told him, staring out over the water. 

“I thought you might be out here.” 

She didn’t respond, but patted the railing beside her, an invitation to join her. He put his wand away and settled where she’d indicated. He took in a deep breath through his nose, letting the fresh scent of pine carried over the lake soothe him. 

“It’s a lovely sunrise,” she said softly. 

He was sure it was. He could feel it—the growing warmth of the early morning. “I came to apologize,” he said.

“You don’t need to do that,” she said. “You can’t help if you don’t feel the same. Please don’t feel bad about it, Ominis.” 

“But I—that’s not what I’m apologizing for.” He took a deep breath, preparing himself. “I didn’t say a word last night. That was awful of me. To leave you in the dark on the thoughts running through my head. I can’t imagine what this night has been like for you, it was tormenting me, thinking of how it must have made you feel.” 

He heard a slight movement from her, an inhaling breath that told him she was about to respond. “Please,” he said, interrupting her before she could speak. “Please, let me finish. I need you to know exactly how I feel.” 

She stayed quiet. He willed himself to go on. “When you told me you loved me, I… I was afraid. You were right. I had always been determined not to fall in love, not to allow myself those feelings. But then I met you, and it made me question everything.” He felt her attention trained fully on him. “Before I knew it, I was in love with you. How could I have expected anything less? But I was still so caught up in my family, in the legacy they’ve left, how I could never ask you to be a part of it. You deserve so much better than all of it.”

He turned his head, facing toward her. “But I can’t let them loom over me forever. Not when it keeps me from what I want most. I love you. If you’ll have me, I am yours.” 

He didn’t have a chance to prepare himself for the way she threw herself on him. The way his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he fell was pure instinct. The two of them tumbled to the pier, and he couldn’t even think to feel any pain over the sound of her joyful laughs. 

They sat up. One arm was still around her waist, and her own were thrown over his shoulders. Her nose buried itself right by the crook of his neck, the warm breath of her laughs tickling him. He couldn’t help his own laughter as it bubbled out of him. The months—years of aching, of wanting, of waiting, slipping away in an instant. 

She pulled her face back, and he could feel her eyes tracing over him. “I love you,” she said softly, smile in her voice. “I love you more than anything.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, and all she could think was how much better it was than her dreams.

#Ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis x reader #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt imagine #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis imagine #ominis x you

[dancingbirdie]

Hello there! I adore your fics and how you wrote Astarion! I was hoping you could write something around the succubus scene? I know you get comforted by Astarion later on in the game regarding it, but due to his own trauma and backstory I would have liked to see him stand up for Tav and protect them during that scene itself, instead of just standing by while Tav is being manipulated 🙈

If you could do something around that, it would heal me! 😂🙏

Hi, anon! I hope you enjoy. I really liked your prompt, but I'll admit it did get a bit darker than I had originally thought I'd write it.

Please take note of the content warnings before you read! As always, comments and reacts are appreciated.

No Self-Sacrifices

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader/Tav

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings/Tags: Discussion/description of dissociation, implied sexual assault, mentions of Astarion's past, descriptions of violence, blood, mild gore, death, angst.

*****

“Why don’t we play a game?” the Raphael-look-alike called to you seductively from the ridiculously lavish bed. “You win, I give you everything you desire. But you’ll enjoy yourself more if you lose.”

Astarion began to sense that all too familiar, uneasy feeling coiling itself tight inside his chest. The premonition that something was about to go utterly, horribly wrong. He risked a glance toward your allies, Lae’zel and Halsin, but they appeared just as woefully confused as you did. As if you all weren’t aware of the trap you’d just walked into. 

“What’s the game?” he heard you ask. He could feel the hairs standing up on the back of his neck.

“It’s a surprise! Off with your clothes,” the devil commanded.

There could be no doubt as to what would take place. Surely, Astarion thought, none of his companions could be so blind as to not see what was about to happen. 

Astarion watched as you bit your lip, hesitating. How you looked wildly about the room, as if you were searching for any last-minute way to avoid this. With his preternatural senses, he couldn’t help but be aware of how your heart rate spiked to a frenzied pulsing as you stood there, terrified of what was to come. 

He watched in horror as your shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. Defeated. Resolving to go through with this. And as you began removing your clothes, his vision turned nearly as red as the fiend on the mattress before you. 

“Good, little thief, good,” the monster crooned, totally unaware of Astarion’s brewing rage. “Keep going like this, and you’ll get to live. You’ll be crying out my name soon, you’d better know it. I am Haarlep, Raphael’s personal incubus…” 

The incubus - Haarlep - prattled on while Astarion continued to seethe with barely-contained fury. His fingers twitched, itching – almost of their own accord – to reach for the crossbow strapped to his back. He began shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, restless. He caught the glare Lae’zel was leveling at him from his periphery and turned his head slightly to meet it. 

She gave a slight, but obvious, shake of the head. A silent command to stand down. Then he felt the tadpole squirm in his brain, while a voice that was distinctly Lae’zel’s echoed in his mind. 

Don’t act rashly, vampire. We need to gather more information before we strike.

Astarion nearly laughed aloud. The audacity of this Githyanki, willing to let her comrade be violated in such a way. After all they had done for her. For this party. And yet, part of him knew he shouldn’t be so surprised. After all, he had known plenty of “heroes” who had let equally horrible fates befall others without so much as lifting a finger to help them. 

“It matters not to me.” Your deadened reply to Haarlep brought Astarion back to the present moment. He recognized that tone of voice. Knew when someone was trying to dissociate. To disconnect their mind from their body. He knew all too well what that feeling was like. And it was nearly as horrible to watch as it was to experience it for himself.

“Very well, I will be Raphael himself,” Haarlep continued. “All of him. Now, on the bed. Lie back.” 

Astarion made his decision when he saw you begin to take stilted steps toward the bed. Covering yourself with your hands, trying to maintain some modicum of modesty as you climbed up. 

With Haarlep’s attention solely on you, he reached behind him for the crossbow. His index finger felt for the trigger as he pulled it around before him. One swift flick, and an arrow was suddenly lodged in the incubus’ left pectoral.

Chaos erupted as imps suddenly appeared throughout the room, responding to Haarlep’s distressed cry. You toppled off the bed, head knocking onto the floor, as the fiend raged above you, trying to right themselves and extract the arrow from their chest. 

“Tsk’va,” Lae’zel cursed in Gith, hefting her sword over her shoulder and barreling toward the first enemy in sight. “To battle it is, then!” 

Halsin shifted quickly into his bear shape and let loose a formidable roar, charging for another group of imps across the room. 

But Astarion only had eyes for Haarlep. He stalked slowly toward the bed, unsheathing the twin blades from his back as he did so. 

You watched as he gave one brief, wicked smile before utter carnage ensued.

*****

“Kainyak! Your foolishness nearly cost us all our lives,” Lae’zel spat venomously toward Astarion while she wiped her blade free of the fetid black imp blood. “I should strike you down now for acting with such stupidity.”

To his credit, Astarion barely seemed to acknowledge the Githyanki’s formidable censuring. You watched as he slipped his daggers back into the sheaths at the small of his back and readjusted his armor. He picked up his crossbow and shook it free of blood before strapping it back between his shoulder blades.

“You still have all your limbs intact, Lae’zel,” he replied airly. It was a stark contrast to the way he was standing, body as taut as a bowstring. “And wasn’t that bloodshed so much more satisfying than watching the incubus violate our dear party leader?” 

Lae’zel’s mouth snapped shut, but she continued to glare. The vampire had a point, though she was loath to admit it. 

“I, for one, prefer this outcome to the alternative that was before us,” Halsin agreed, rising from where he had been crouched after dismissing his ursine form. He glanced your way but averted his eyes quickly, to your confusion. 

“Best get dressed, darling,” Astarion drawled, coming over to where you still lay prone on the floor. “As delicious as I find your birthday suit to be, I’d wager you’ll fare better in this wretched place with a little more clothing on.” 

He held out a hand to help you rise to your feet. You observed him cautiously, trying to discern the emotion behind his carefully schooled expression. 

“Why?” you whispered. 

He squinted at you, one brow quirked. “Are you seriously asking me why armor is prudent to have on, in a place like this?” He chuckled before adding, “gods, you must’ve smacked your head harder than I thought.”

“No,” you retorted, refusing to be deterred by his cheeky banter. “I mean, why did you attack Haarlep? You’re never one to be spoiling for a fight.”

Astarion scoffed, pressing a hand to his chest as if insulted. “Careful, darling. You’re almost making me out to be a pacifist.”

“You know what I meant, Astarion,” you grumbled as you began donning your leather breeches and jerkin. 

“And would you have preferred to be fucked by that incubus instead?” Astarion bit out derisively. 

Your head whipped up to meet his gaze, hearing the sudden change in his tone. 

“Of course not,” you scowled. “But you could sense how powerful they were. It seemed like the only way to ensure your all’s safety.”

Astarion grimaced. “So you would have just laid down and taken it? For us?”

“I’m not saying I would have enjoyed it,” you hissed. “But to keep you safe? Keep them safe?” you gestured to Lae’zel and Halsin across the room, polishing and re-polishing their weapons as they attempted not to overhear your barely-whispered argument. 

“Of course,” you concluded, voice resolute. 

“Don’t be a fucking martyr. Not for me. Not for them. Not for anyone,” Astarion growled. 

Your brows shot toward your hairline in surprise. 

“We know what we signed up for when we joined this rag-tag group,” he continued, tone icy. “I’d rather fight a hundred fiends than watch you debase yourself to save anyone, including myself.” 

You let loose a mirthless laugh, feeling angry, embarrassed and too completely exposed. Before you could think better of it, your retort was flying past your lips. 

“You know, Astarion, you have a fucking funny way of showing appreciation for your partner who was willing to be violated in order to keep you safe.” 

It was the wrong thing to say. You immediately knew it, and so did the rest of the party. Suddenly it was like the air had been sucked from the room. 

Crimson eyes bored into your own as Astarion took a step forward to meet you, chest to chest. You glared up at him, refusing to back down. Refusing to be chastised for your willingness to protect him. 

The shared air between you was charged. You could almost feel the electricity surging. 

“Need I remind you? I’ve been violated enough times over the past 200 years to know how unequivocally monstrous it is,” he intoned, his voice pitched dangerously low. “I will promise you this. I am finished with having it happen to me, in front of me, or for me.”

Words escaped you. It was all you could do to maintain eye contact with him, feeling the conviction in his tone. The anger that had sustained you up until this point had all but disappeared. In its place was something far more demure. 

“So yes, I fired the first shot that pierced that devil’s skin. Then I eviscerated their neck with my teeth,” he crooned, reverently tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You shivered at his touch, at his dulcet tone that was describing such violence. 

“And I slit his throat with glee,” he continued, cupping your cheek in his palm. “I would do it again. And again. And again. Because I will never witness abuse like what was about to happen, ever again.”

He swept the pad of his thumb over the hollow under your eye, his gaze flicking rapidly over your face. As though he were subconsciously checking you over for any nicks, cuts, or bruises. 

“Do you understand?” he whispered softly. His voice was still laced with rage, but you could tell it was not directed toward you. Really, it never had been. 

The entire situation had obviously touched the most sensitive pressure point within him. Had triggered his urge to fight, to protect, to resist. You couldn’t be angry with him for that. Never. Not one bit. 

You gulped before nodding slightly. “I understand now. I’m sorry.”

You lifted your hand to cover his where it was still cupping your face. Turning slightly, you planted a kiss against his palm. 

“No self-sacrificing on my watch, darling, agreed?” he murmured, wrapping his other arm around your waist in a solid embrace. 

“Agreed,” you confirmed, returning his embrace before venturing on through the House of Hope.

#astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #dancingbirdiewrites #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion fic #astarion baldurs gate #astarion x f!reader #tav x astarion #astarion my beloved #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic

[thegnomelord]

Alright since 28 is taken Ill do the next best thing 29! Graves and his shadows with M reader, who is a colonel.

I need the wholesome and maybe a bit of the spice ya know. Thank you for soing Shadow company content, i am so starved.

Once again good soup!

Here you go dude, I'm not the best when it comes to writing for a group of people so idk how this turned out :/. Play the game HERE

Prompt: Hug from behind

CW: NSFW, subbot Graves, domtop Mreader, Shadow company fluff, hug from behind, fluff, groping, handjob, cumming in pants.

Being a colonel in the Shadow company and Grave's right hand man, you had a lot of responsibilities. From running drills to stitching up wounds to writing reports and drafting contracts when your magpie of a commander sees a new person he wants to recruit; you expected to deal with a lot of shit, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect to become the Shadow Company's emotional support Colonel.

Colonel Care Bear — it was their nickname for you. You'd made the mistake of being annoyed at the name which, of course, made the little fuckers double down on it. Nothing you did made them stop, even Graves joining in their fun and calling you that instead of your name with a smug grin.

You're not even sure when or why it had started.

It wasn't like you were overly paternal, you just took care of your soldiers. In whatever ways they needed you; The first time you'd needed to give emotional support had been after Jenkins had lost his battle buddy. Jenkins was still relatively young compared to the other Shadows, a rising star that Graves had snatched up, but on the flight back to base he'd been no better than a scared kitten, desperately trying to hold in his sobs. You hadn't said a word when you had pulled him close to you, letting him cry his heart out into your shoulder.

None of the others said a word either, and you didn't bring it up after your plane had landed. You'd expected it to be a one off experience but oh — you were so wrong.

Like feral cats learning to trust a human, the Shadows started approaching you, carefully at first, standing just at the edge of your personal space nervous fingers toying with the hem of their shirts and eyes flickering between you and anything else, until you grew annoyed and pulled them close to you, letting them cry or talk or just sit with their head on your shoulder for as long as they needed; a lighthouse in a dark sea.

Then Williams, who'd had one too many bad missions, had come into your office without a word and plopped himself into your lap while you were busy doing paperwork.

You were surprised, but not too much, with how often you'd found yourself with a Shadow near you you figured something like this was bound to happen. Though you hadn't expected it to be this forward. "Bad day?" You asked.

Williams just grunted into your neck, slightly nodding his head.

You shifted to still be able to write with him in your lap. "Want me to talk?"

You felt his hair scratch your neck when he shook his head, a negative grunt leaving his throat.

"Got it." You said and went back to your work, a hand on William's hip to keep him stable.

Safe to say you weren't amused when Graves had walked in and cracked the biggest bloody smirk when he saw you like that. You were even less amused when he'd whipped out his phone and took a photo of it. And you were ready to piss in Grave's beer after that photo had circulated through the entire Shadow Company, leading to many more similar incidents of a Shadow crawling into your lap when you weren't busy.

It really wasn't their fault your embrace just felt so good and comfortable, your arms perfectly sized and muscled to put weight in your hugs, shoulders just broad enough to make them feel small and safe.

Graves knew this because when he'd needed to confiscate Smith's phone after he'd caught him taking pictures of your ass (not that he blamed him, you had a nice ass but they needed to have some professionalism) Graves had found their simp chat.

It took him days to finish reading all the messages. I mean there were hundreds of texts gushing just over you, calendrer times for when which Shadow could go bother you for attention, not to mention the countless pictures they'd taken of you, from mundane to more suggestive when you were in the communal showers (Graves would die before he admitted he'd needed to rub one out at some of the pictures).

Safe to say that when he gave Smith his phone back Graves was. . .curious. He'd never approached you for comfort like the Shadows did, mostly because he knew he couldn't keep his thoughts pure after just a few minutes in your presence, his throat going dry whenever he feels you pat his shoulder when you pass in the hall.

"Care Bear!" Graves calls when he finds you on your way to your room, using that name just so he can see the irritated twitch of your brow.

"Yes commander?" You ask in that same tone of voice you use when you know he's up to something.

"Oh come on, no need for that." Graves grins, "Ah just need you to do something for me," He says, because he wouldn't be your commander if he was straightforward. "Follow along." He motions with his hand like a dog as he passes you.

Like a dog you follow, so close you cast a partial shadow over him. He leads you to a more secluded hallway, stopping abruptly and hearing you stop too. But you're not close enough, so with an annoyed sigh he says "Come closer."

You raise an eyebrow but do as he says, taking a few short steps closer until your chest is almost touching his back. Without a word Graves suddenly grabs your arms and wraps them around his waist, leaning back on his heels until his back is flush with your chest and you're supporting his weight.

You stall for a few moments just trying to convince your head that yes, your commander is doing that. "Really?" You ask.

He tilts his head to meet your eyes, casually resting his head on your shoulder. "Something the matter Colonel Care bear?" He smirks, reminding you of a very content cat.

You give him a blank look before rolling your eyes, "Could have just said you wanted a hug." You huff and move your arms to really hug him, your hands resting comfortably on his hips, your arms caging him in, the heat of your body seeping into his, your chest rumbling as you mutter your annoyance at the damn nickname.

"What fun would that be?" He says, eyes closing.

And, Hell, Graves gets it now.

He could get addicted this. Your scent and cologne clogs his nose, the heat of your body chasing away the lingering chill of the base. You support his weight so easily it's like he's floating on a firm cloud, forgetting about ranks and war and everything for a few blissful seconds. His mind wanders; wonders what it would feel to have your strong arms pin him every day, what it'd be like to be pinned down, the current gentle pressure turned bruising and demanding, bending him in half and shit— he's hard.

And of course you notice, wouldn't be his right hand if you couldn't read him like a book. "I'm getting the impression," You note, your grip increasing just a bit to keep him still, your other hand skirting down. "That you wanted something more than just a hug." You growl and squeeze your hand, groping the bulge in his jeans.

"Shit—" Graves sucks in a breath, legs scrambling for purchase but you hold him still, his weight still on you. "—I wasn't thinking of nothing." He says quickly, the pressure of your hand on his clothed cock too good.

"Uh huh," You hum, keeping a careful eye on his facial expressions as you experimentally move your hand; Short slow brushes of your thumb against his cockhead earn you little whimpers, unable to hide them with his head still resting on your shoulder. Firm squeezes of his entire bulge has his skin turning a nice shade of pink, his ear hot beneath your tongue as you nibble on it. His thighs part as you bully your hand lower, the strong pressure of your fingers against his balls as your palm grinds into his cockhead making him moan, the stuttered attempts at explaining himself dying out as a visible damp spot grows in his jeans.

"Faster-" Graves growls, his hands grabbing purchase in your hair, yanking your head down into a rough kiss, "-mhh, faster, fuck, man-"

You smirk against his lips. "Ask me nicely." You say, purposely pulling your hand away from where he needs it the most, ignoring his disgruntled sounds. "You son of a bitch-" Graves snarls, breathing rapidly in an attempt to get his frazzled brain to work before swallowing his pride. "Please," He says it like the word hurts him.

"Please what commander?" You wonder, undoing his belt and slipping your hand into his jeans, "Please touch my cock? Please get me off? Please fuck me till I can't walk?" You throw suggestions, applying just enough pressure on his twitching cock to leave him dumbly nodding his head.

"Yes, yes, yes- oh fuck- shit yes-" Phill pants, eyes closing and weakly thrusting his hips into your hand with what leverage he has, seeking out the pleasure that comes with your calloused hand stroking his sensitive flesh. "Fuck- just, ahh-" He breathes in through clenched teeth, "-just please."

"Alright, alright," You hum, increasing your pace, the glide of skin on skin eased by the precum he's leaking, swallowing his little moans and rough grunts as you kiss him. You can tell he's nearing his end with how he begins twitching even more in your hold, hips pushing into your hand sporadically, fat tears prickling his eyes. "Come on then Commander, cum already."

He does almost as soon as you tell him to, his moan swallowed down by your lips as he cums in his pants, your thumb rubbing insistently on his tip to milk him of all he's got, strong arm keeping him close to you.

"You did good commander." You coo gently as you pull your hand out of his pants, and without waiting for a response you push your cum covered fingers into his open mouth. "Real good," You smirk when Phill immediately sucks on your fingers, his brain melted into mush and incapable of rousing his pride to feel ashamed of how he moans at the taste of his own spend. "Such a good boy," Your praise does something to him, has his cock making a valiant attempt to get hard all over again.

The air leaves his lungs when you suddenly push your hips against his ass, making him feel your own hard cock trapped in your pants. "I took care of you," You begin, pulling your fingers from his mouth. "Are you prepared to take care of me?"

#Gnome's Prompt Game #cod mw2 #gnome correspondence #cod modern warfare #phillip graves x male reader #shadow company #shadow company x reader #top dom reader #x reader #top male reader #phillip graves smut