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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

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Outburst II

Leah Williamson x Jordan Nobbs x Child!Reader

Summary: You say a bad word

"Whoa, whoa," Leah says helplessly as your screaming body is placed into her arms," What-? Jordan, what's going on?"

Jordan sighs as she gently wipes the tears from your red face. "She's a little sad today-"

"Mummy!" You whine, reaching for her. You try to flop back out of Leah's arms to get to her and it's only because of Leah's quick readjustment that you don't go falling to the floor. "Mummy, no!"

"I'm sorry, bug," Jordan says and, to her credit, she does look incredibly apologetic," But you know it's Mum's turn to have you this week."

You just sob harder.

"No," You cry," Mummy, no! Please!"

"I'm sorry, bug," Jordan repeats, crowding close enough to give you a tight hug in the hope of calming you down," But you know that it's Mum's week now. You were so excited to get your minutes in a few days ago."

You just keep crying though, trying to claw your way out of Leah's arms and cling to Jordan.

"Go, Jordan," Leah says with a sigh," I'll take her inside. I'll calm her down."

Jordan looks torn but nods. "She didn't want to leave Blu. I took him to the vets last night for a checkup. He stayed over there so she hasn't seen him since. She's been a little bit sad."

"A little bit?" Leah scoffs as you wail right in her ear before hitting her shoulder. "Hey, no, bug. What have I said about hitting? It's rude."

You hit her again.

"Bug," She says in warning.

"Hey," Jordan says softly," As soon as I get back, I'll pick up Blu and send your Mum a picture but you've got to stop crying, okay?"

You sniffle. "Promise?"

"I promise."

You nod and angrily wipe away your tears. Your bottom lip still trembles but you relax in Leah's arms, head on her shoulder as your hand reaches out to play with the necklace she's wearing.

Leah hopes that you'll be happier now that Jordan's promised pictures of Blu but you're still a little sad and depressed during bath time and bedtime.

You didn't even enjoy your bedtime story like you usually do and it carries on the next day when you don't cross the day off on the calendar.

You're usually so excited to cross a day off because it means you're closer to match day and match day means you get your minutes in at the very end.

Leah doesn't know what else to do. She's shown you the picture of Blu Jordan sent. She put you in your comfy clothes and your favourite Arsenal jersey but you still remain sad.

Very briefly, Leah considers going to the shelter and getting you a puppy but realises that she's got training and there's not enough hours in the day to do both so she picks you up and gets you into the car.

Leah's pretty sure it unnerves everyone how quiet you are. Even the newer signings like Fox and Codi seem to notice something's wrong.

Katie's the one who makes the first move.

You're sitting in Leah's cubby, just swinging your legs aimlessly when Katie pokes you in the cheek.

The disgruntled look on your face is funny so she pokes you again.

"Come on," She cajoles," What's wrong? I don't get a hug this morning?"

"No."

"Why not? I might die without my hugs, you know."

You give her a blank stare. "Then die."

"Bug!" Leah snaps sharply and you duck your head sheepishly.

"Sorry, Mum. Sorry, Katie."

Leah turns back to what she's doing and Katie pokes you again.

"Stop it!" You snap but Katie does it again," Fuck off, Katie!"

Someone gasps, probably Alessia, but all you're focussed on is your Mum. Leah whips around to face you. She looks angry, looking down at you with pursed lips.

"That's a bad word, bug!" She tells you," It's a naughty word! Who taught it to you?"

You shrug.

"Bug, you've already been naughty today. Don't lie to me. Who taught it to you?"

You feel the urge to cry again, your throat going all tight and closed up and you know pretending you don't know what Mum is talking about will get you in a lot of trouble.

You mumble your response.

"Speak louder, bug," Leah says," So I can hear you."

"Rachel said it to Mummy a few days ago when they were wrestling," You reply," Didn't know it was a bad word! It got Mummy to stop!"

Leah sighs, running a hand over her mouth as she looks at you. The rest of the locker room has gone silent, just watching how she's going to tackle this situation.

"Some words," Leah says," Are naughty words. That's one of them. I don't want to hear you say it again, bug."

You frown. "Rachel said it."

"Rachel's an adult."

"And adults say bad words?"

"Only when they're being naughty." Leah really doesn't want to be having a conversation like this but she has to admit that thinking it through has perked you up a little bit.

"Adults get in trouble for saying bad words too?" You check and Leah nods. You point right at Beth. "She said fuck last week."

"Bug, stop repeating it!"

"And so did Emily and Lessi. Lessi taught it to Vic, who taught it to Codi. Everyone says it, Mum!"

"Well-" Leah looks around.

"And they didn't get in trouble!"

"They're getting in trouble now!" Leah declares," We'll make a swear jar. If you swear, you put money in the jar. Is that good enough for you, bug?"

You think for a moment, looking around the room where Kyra is giggling. "Kyra called the plug a motherfucker when she stepped on it last week."

"That was meant to be a secret!" Kyra exclaims.

"Alright." Leah massages her temples. "From now on, this is a no swear zone. If you swear then you put money in the jar."

"Hey, come on!" Katie complains," Sort your kid's potty mouth out at home! Don't make all of us suffer through this shite."

"That's a quid in the swear jar, McCabe," Leah says, turning and picking you up," And no Bug Hugs for a week."

"No, Bug Hugs?!" Katie shrieks," I'll die without them."

Leah winks at you. "Then die."

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #jordan nobbs x reader #jordan nobbs #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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pissvortex · 1 year

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this frame from a 1929 Soviet silent film called Fragment of an Empire goes so fucking hard but the blu-ray restoration of it with no cut scenes AND english subtitles is fuckin paywalled (and i can’t find any torrents of it) so i will never know how much this movie whips ass. it’s tormenting me

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blue-jisungs · 4 months

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silent hug

author's note. this is veeeery self indulgent bc my exams r killing me so yeah 👍

genre. hurt to comfort (i think?), classmates to friends ??? idk man just whipped n cute sunoo

summary. in which your classmate comforts you when you tear up in class :(

warnings. cursing, reader is in a bad place mentally,, kinda hinting to academic burnout? ,, crying :( + not proofread, sorry!!

word count. 1286

with a heavy sigh you plopped down on the chair, putting your bag on the desk. the walk from the bus stop to the university tired you out but at least you got four or five minutes before the classes started. so you rested your head against the bag and closed your eyes, taking in a little more sleep than you could get this morning.

the final season is coming to an end, finally. but weirdly enough, you don’t feel relieved. sure, there’s only three or four exams left – and you haven’t really studied for them but that’s a thing to do the day before, isn’t it? – but you can’t help but feel the exhaustion. your friends chat about how there’s less things to take then it was at the beginning, sure. but the closer you get to the midterm break, the less motivation you have. and the tiredness that accumulated throughout the whole month is seeking its way out.

which is why you’re a mess nowadays. promising yourself to study but ending up doing everything but studying, falling asleep at ungodly hours (and regretting it later)… or shutting yourself down from the world. your friends got used to it, everyone has their lives after classes after all. but you carry on with do not disturb on most of the time, missing out their conversations on chats and tiktoks they’ve sent you. sure, you could’ve read them later – but there’s a sinking feeling of guilt (and a dazzle of overthinking) that you’re such a shitty friend.

all of this causes your negative emotions to bottle up. and you know it’s not a good thing, especially when you feel like you’re about to cry when a minor inconvenience occurs. but you’re stronger than that, no? the thought of locking yourself in your room during the break keeps you alive, pushing the sadness – seemingly – away.

a sudden tap on your shoulder caused you to open your eyes and lazily shift your focus to your classmate, sunoo. you looked around and didn’t see your friends… well, they probably skipped the classes since some of them are careless just like that.

"it’s about to start" sunoo smiled gently and you noticed the way his ebony gaze lingered on you for a while longer. great, you should’ve put at least some foundation.

"thanks" you nodded and took out your ipad, the other hand rubbing your eye. here we go…

"i feel like… some people in this class don’t take my lessons seriously" the professor started and you froze, heart skipping a beat. he couldn’t possibly mean you, right? “the final exam is around the corner and some of you… did not too well on the quiz"

oh, well. it’s definitely aimed at you.

"i’ll hand them out at the end of the class and then run over your mistakes. now we’ll do a revision. and you better listen" the man says and you could swear his piercing gaze is drilling into your soul.

an unpleasant feeling of warmth creeped into your face and once again you curse yourself for not putting any makeup. sunoo glanced at you, a sad smile on his lips.

the professor approached you at the end, when all of the students already left. putting the paper sheet with a nasty P– on it, you frowned. hey, you passed!

"y/n, i’m really disappointed. i don’t know what’s going on but that’s the worst work of yours so far. pull yourself together. there’s so many major mistakes… spellings… it’s not an academic level. you were one point away from not passing this one" his words hit a cord in your heart, your palms beginning to sweat. he patted the paper and returned to his desk, grabbing his stuff.

and you didn’t even know when that happened – your sweaty palms shaking, breath getting stuck in your throat, vision blurry because of tears.

you packed your things and wanted to leave but your legs felt too weak. your professor left, causing you to end up all alone in the room.

you sniffed, trying to wipe out the tears but they seemed to have other plans.

"don’t cry, idiot. it’s fucking embarrassing" you breathed out to yourself, voice barely above a whisper.

"y/n, if you want… oh. are you okay?"

you would normally look up to see who that was but the realization of someone even seeing you in such state caused your face to redden even more. pulling your t-shirt up to hide your face in it, you felt like there was no way out: you couldn’t possibly stop crying. it was like your professor’s words triggered something.

"i’m… hey, it’s okay. did he say anything bad to you? or do?" someone approached you and you shook your head as a no. "can i stay here?"

you hesitantly peeled from your shirt and noticed sunoo. his gaze softened upon seeing your teary eyes, lashes wet and flushed face.

"just… don’t mind me" you mumbled and hid your face in your shirt again. you just couldn’t stand someone seeing you in such state, whether it was someone close or a stranger.

"i… i don’t know what he said but i’ve noticed that there’s something going on with you. and may have heard what your friends said... do you want to talk about it?" sunoo asked gently and all he could hear were the harsh sobs leaving your lips.

"they talk about me behind my back?" you whined, your shoulders shaking even more. his eyes widened. that was not the best thing to say…

"no, no! i mean they said you look really tired lately…" he explained hastily and suddenly you looked up. your shirt was soaked with tears and your face was a mess, your pupils blown and wet stains on your cheeks.

"i’m so tired, sunoo. i don’t think i can handle this anymore… and everyone seems to be doing great… just not me…" you mumbled, sending him a sad smile. the pearly tears balanced at the edge of your waterline, ready to spill. he shook his head.

"you’ve got this, i know you do. you got here somehow in the first place, no? if you want, i can help you. with anything. i’m not the smartest but i do understand some things so…" he stopped talking upon seeing your curious gaze.

"why are you doing this?” you asked, sniffling.

"i just… you’re my classmate in a need of help. i couldn’t stand there and not do anything when i heard you cry. and now there’s no way out, isn’t it?" sunoo joked and his face lit up. oh, this boy was a literal sunshine.

"you said everything?" you mumbled, unsurely. he nodded, a caring smile tugging on his lips "can… hmpfh… can i hug you…?"

the words were so quiet, sunoo barely heard them. but he noticed the begging look in your eyes and who was he to deny? it’s not like he would mind, either.

sunoo just opened your arms and you hugged him tightly, wrapping your arms around his waist. he patted your back soothingly, letting you let out all of your pent up stress.

a part of sunoo’s heart raced because he wouldn’t have ever imagined that he would hug his hallway crush. the other part which caused his heart to race was the embrace itself, your smell and you in general – and he was happy he could help you.

neither of you didn’t have to talk right now. a silent hug that expressed more than a sentences could ever. and both of you knew, sitting here glued to each other and in comfortable silence, that it was a beginning of a beautiful friendship.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ocean-minho ,, @s-e-s-a-l-e-n-e ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

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comfortless · 5 months

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hi, sweetie!! could i maybe get just a crumb more of your dungeoneer!König and his little knight gf 💖🥹 💕

of course, of course! anything for you, marmy!

dungeoneer! König x fem! reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. suggestive, sexism, exhibitionism, masturbation

Slaying the wyrm should have been the end of it, at least that’s what she believes.

With the golden eye in tow, they leave the dungeon side-by-side, dirtied with god only knows what, her formerly pristine armor plates now sullied with blood and scratches born from the claws of the beast. She looks the part of a proper knight, and though he’s utterly adamant that a lady could never be one— König finds himself rolling in equal parts devotion and shame. He’s always pictured his future wife to be some tame lady who isn’t inclined to wield a blade. Not this. He’s ridiculous enough to tell her so, too, and only flashes her a grin at the dirty looks she shoots back in response.

Of course, she has no intention of making good on her teasing below the earth’s surface. It was just to invigorate him for that gruesome battle, honest! When he offers her his name, kneeling before her with his hands wrapped over her thighs like a begging dog, she only finds herself further disgusted by him. König, he says with pride in his voice, an undeniably blasphemous thing to call oneself when he’s not a king at all! A proper, devoted knight should have sheared his head from his shoulders right then, instead she just gives him her name in turn, maybe even bats her eyelashes at this giant fool before reaching for his forearms to right him.

König is shameless when he speaks, prattling endlessly of his aspirations: how he longs to share his home, his bed, even his claim to future children… all with her. She’s never had a man speak to her like this, stare at her like this. In fact, she finds it fascinating how he hasn’t tripped once on their venture back to the gilded castle when the entirety of his focus has been on her.

While she ogles the royal guard standing at the side of the old king, perched on his thrown of rhubarb velvet and shimmering gold, König only has eyes for her. She presents the eye in its mucky satchel, uncrushed and still dewy despite the length of their journey, tells him that it’s not gold that she desires but a place at his knights’ table. König had been kind enough to warn her of the reception beforehand, but even a burst of fire from the maw of a dragon would have felt more pleasant than the pitying glances and the weight of gold coins thrust into her palms before she and her brutish companion were ordered to leave.

Horrible thing that he is— König is almost smug when they cross the rampart, expecting her to sully her face with tears as any lady would. He could play the hero then, whisk her away to a world where she can play the part of a knight fighting rats away from their kitchen and kneeling before his cock instead of some withering old king. He had good intentions, really! He wants to take care of her!

She doesn’t cry, only begrudgingly splits the bounty with him across the table of the tavern they’ve wandered off to. Tells him that she can still live out her dreams in the very same way that he does— taking jobs for the king by wandering through desolate labyrinths crowded with monsters for payment, and that she would still feel very righteous doing it. He’s terribly hard as he watches her down her ale so smoothly, drinking with more vigor than any man, even him.

“You are the most amazing thing,” he grunts, openly gawking at her as he shifts in his seat. Ordinarily, he would have more sense than to whip his cock out in the midst of a crowded tavern, but it’s the late hour and she’s still got the blood of the wyrm cresting her cheek and a look in her eyes that makes his heart feel like a roaring hearth. When the ties of his trousers are undone, his own mug of ale in one hand and his cock fisted in the other he doesn’t even care for the blushing, giggling little tavern maidens— just the woman seated across from him staring daggers into his very soul.

“And you are obscene,” she says haughtily, even as the corner of her lip curls into a smirk. He feels as though Lady Luck has made it her personal goal to give him everything he’s ever hoped for now. Even boisterously sings along with the bard crowding the corner after he’s smeared his seed into his palm. This little knight-hopeful is everything to him already, even with her insults and teasing. He offers her a dance, too, clumsy and drunken as they slur over their words and press close to tell one another stories from their respective travels.

When they’re bathing in the stream just beyond the town, her armor finally shed and her bare flesh lit aglow under the milky gaze of the moon, she finally suggests that, perhaps, they should try traveling together. They’ll split any coin they receive in payment, and it’s safer to have a proper group rather than go at it alone. The words barely register to König at all, too enraptured by her nudity to make any sort of protest. How those steel scales were covering what’s laid bare before him is entirely beyond his imagination. He wants to sink himself into her entirely— his nails, his teeth, his manhood and his heart all buried inside of his companion.

Only, she doesn’t let him, only withdraws from the cool water to cloak herself with a demure smile. He would do anything for her, he believes it wholeheartedly when he follows her to the bank, damp hands grabbing at her breasts tucked beneath the green cloak thrown over her shoulders. König isn’t stupid, drunken but still mindful enough to that know she’s strumming him like a lute. He simply would be happy with what he could get, grins like a demon feasting from the holy when she parts the cloth for him to see her tits while he toys with her, the soft flesh pliant beneath his calloused fingertips. She even moans for him a few times, a pretty desperate sound before she escapes his grip with a giggle and heads back toward the inn.

He stares in disbelief when he finds that they’re not sharing a room as per her request, distributing only enough for her own bed to the innkeeper prior to hastily making her way up the creaking stairs.

The low whines he hears through the thin wood between their rooms paints a picture so vivid for him. He comes undone at her soft, needy song, pretends his hand is the holy space between her legs. His own groaning joins her whispers of lust, her muffled laughs fill the night air when his breath grows ragged as his seed spills out over his abdomen.

There isn’t a doubt in his mind that he will have her in time, it’s fated.

these two are like this to me:

Frank Dicksee. roaring devotion in his eyes while she is very much above him and in control (‘:< heheh very, very them!!

#könig x reader #könig x you #konig x reader #konig x you #dungeoneer!König #can’t catch a break with his lady knight… poor thing #he’s so smitten and strange i adore him…

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ikarasu · 6 months

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🍫White Chocolate🍫

Yandere Carlo/P x Reader

Warning: spoilers, yandere behavior, broken bones, and death

P/Carlo’s Perspective: 🍫Dark Chocolate🍫

Final Part: 🥀Tummy Ache🥀

Word Count: 1715

🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~

At a young age, Carlo and I knew that we were to marry. My parents were successful vehicle inventors who were very interested in Geppetto’s works. Geppetto wanted his son to marry the perfect spouse. So our parents took an opportunity and formed an arranged marriage. I knew that Carlo hated me, because of the arrangement. Feeling that now he has no chance of experiencing real love. I, on the other hand, fell in love at first sight. Everything that Carlo did felt so honest and pure. I watched Carlo grow up into a fine young man, but our relationship never improved. He would always avoid me at any chance given. Yet I still loved him despite his bitter nature towards me. Loving Carlo was like savoring dark chocolate. It’s so pure and rich but leaves nothing but a bitter aftertaste.

As the plague worsened my family had us move away from Krat. Yet my parents still caught the disease and eventually passed away six months after contracting it. I returned to Krat in hopes of finding Geppetto and Carlo. Only to return to the beginning of the puppet frenzy. I found Geppetto and was told of Carlo’s passing before he rushed me to take refuge at The Krat Hotel with a few other survivors.

I don’t know how long it has been since I’ve taken refuge here. But I’ve grown to enjoy the company of others. Usually, I help around with Polendina or chat with Sophia and Eugénie. I have not heard news from Geppetto recently, and I can’t help but worry. Leading me to think about Carlo and how I wasn’t there for his final moments. It hurts to think that I never got to say bye and tell him the truth about my feelings.

The loud creaking of the front entrance doors opening pulls me out of my thoughts. Like a bitter pill, I swallow up my feelings and head downstairs to greet whoever had just entered. As I head down the stairs I hear Sophia chatting. ‘It must be another survivor…’

“Sophia, who’s the newcomer-“

I stop as I look up at the face of the newcomer. Suddenly I feel sick to the stomach and I take a step back.

“I-it can’t be….”

There stands a confused familiar face. His unfamiliar blue eyes are glassy and dull, but his freckles are a constellation of stars I have memorized by heart.

“Oh, (name), I want you to meet P” Sophia says as she looks over at me with concern.

P raises his hand slowly as he stares at me. He almost touches my hand but I run. I headed to my room as fast as I could. My breath is erratic, my heart is pounding, and my mind is spinning. I feel like the world is collapsing on me and I fall to my knees and cry alone in my room.

🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~Time Skip~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~

*knock knock*

I refuse to move from my bed after the events from earlier today. The confusion and feeling of being lied to is conflicted inside me.

“(Name)… it’s me, Geppetto. May I come in?”

He sighs as he hears no response from me.

“I’m assuming you met my latest creation…..”

The door whips open revealing my angered expression.

“Is that what he is, Geppetto? Just another toy to you?! Some sick way to make up for your shortcomings as a father figure to Carlo?!”

My fists are trembling and the hot tears spill from my cheeks. Geppetto holds one of my fists gently before making me look at his face.

“Let me explain everything to you… there’s more to it…”

We sit in my room as Geppetto explains his whole plan to revive Carlo. I hesitate at his words, everything about it seems inhumane. Yet he tries to reassure me with promises of me getting my chance to love Carlo again.

“I can’t Geppetto… none of this sounds right. I miss Carlo as well, deeply, but this is too much for me.”

I guide him out of my room to let me process everything that has been said.

The next few days I try to go through my day as per usual. Trying to ignore those same blue glassy eyes following my form as I pass by. Despite their beautiful color, they’re too fake and doll-like for me to appreciate.

I go to the library to browse some books to read. On the top shelf, I notice one of my favorite books sitting on it. I try to reach for it as best as I can. My fingers barely graze the spine of the book before suddenly I feel a cold form pressing against my back. A larger hand easily grabs the book I was reaching for. Turning around slowly I refuse to meet his eyes. I quickly take the book and give him a quiet thank you before running off. If I had taken the time to look I would’ve noticed the way his eyes showed something new, longing.

I try to avoid him whenever he is in the hotel. Until one day I was feeling more somber than usual. Today would’ve been Carlo’s birthday. Sitting alone at the piano I play an old tune, one that I thought Carlo would’ve enjoyed if he and I got along. The tears drip from my face as I continue to play. Quietly the front doors of the hotel open and P walks in. P’s footsteps go unnoticed by me as I drown myself in my sorrows. He feels something deep down in his heart pulling him towards me. The feelings ran deep and made the ergo in his veins flow more. He felt like he had no control over these feelings. Remembering Geppetto’s words in his office after defeating the watchman at the city hall.

“(Name) and Carlo were made for each other. Treat them well, even if they’re a bit rough around the edges at the moment. They’ll come around sooner or later”

The song comes to an end and the room is now only filled with the sounds of my quiet sobs. I gasp as I feel a hand touch my shoulder. P stands there and looks at me with concern.

“Go away… You’re the last ‘thing’ I want to see at the moment” I say resentfully.

Instead of listening to me, P pulls me into a hug. I freeze and then I let myself melt. Carlo would’ve never hugged me so comfortably. The tears spill more and for once I look back at those blue eyes. He stares at me so lovingly and kindly. Maybe this is okay…maybe I can love again…

As P progressed on his journey our relationship bloomed. He was patient when I was stubborn and he was loving when I needed it. Loving P was like milk chocolate. The perfect balance of sweetness with no bitter aftertaste. He was perfect and I gave him all of my heart.

P came into the hotel and came to my room. One look at his face and I knew what he was thinking. We lay together one last time before he had to go off and finish off Simon. Our tears and hearts are shared one last time.

“I promise to come back… I won’t leave you again, (name)”

🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~Time Skip~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~

Screams are all I can hear ringing through the hotel. I hide in my room crying as I fear for my life. They’re all gone. Eugénie, Venigni, Antonia, Polendina, Pulcinella… they’re all gone. I hear footsteps approaching my room and I feel sick to my stomach. I pray for them to turn away and move on. It’s silent for a few moments before I hear the handle of the door turn. I hid in my wardrobe before the door could be opened. Holding my breath as I stare through the crack of my wardrobe. The room is empty and everything is silent. I let out my breath before suddenly brown eyes appeared in front of the crack. A scream is ripped out of my throat as I’m yanked out of the wardrobe.

“My love~ I promised you I would come back”

I tried to push at his form but his body wouldn’t budge an inch. Staring at familiar brown eyes that are now filled with bloodlust. Familiar constellations of freckles are nowhere to be found. Only splatters of blood and oil speckle his face.

“Let me go! You monster!” I scream as I continue to thrash in his iron-like hold.

“Now, now, that’s not very nice of you love~” he says in a sugary tone

I continue to thrash as tears fall from my eyes. Praying to any gods that all of this is just some nightmare. Suddenly he pulls me by the hair to force me to look at him. His tone taking a dangerous turn.

“Father promised me that we were made for each other. So start acting like it, love.”

I tremble in his hold submissively. He smiles and releases my hair before leaning closer to my face.

“That’s a good spouse~”

Before he could lean any closer I grabbed the vase behind him and smashed it on his head. He staggers and I make a run for it. Skipping over steps as I make a dash for the exit. I manage to run out the doors into the rainy entrance before I’m tackled down. Grabbing onto my leg he gives me a dangerous look. A sickening crack and a scream were all that could be heard. I cry as the pain shoots up my leg.

“See? That’s what happens when you’re not a good spouse. I have to clip your wings” his tone has returned to that sickening sweet voice.

He pulls out a ring and looks at me. I try to crawl away but he pulls me back cradling me. I cry as he slips on the ring and pulls me into a possessive kiss.

“That’s right, love! Cry! It’s a joyous moment for both of us. Now we can be together forever just as we were meant to be”

This ‘love’ is like white chocolate. Its overly sweet taste is there to cover up the fact it isn’t chocolate. Only this time it’s all that you have left.

🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~🍫~🥀~

Notes: I will edit this eventually rippppp

#lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #pinocchio #p #lies of p pinocchio x reader #pinocchio x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #p x reader #lies of p fanfic #gender neutral reader #gender neutral fanfic #lies of p carlo x reader #yandere carlo #lies of p carlo

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feelbokkie · 1 year

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✨OT8's Shelf✨

Part 1

Authors: A-I

🌞Feelbokkie M.list🌞

Key:

📙 = fluff 📘 = angst 📕 = 18+ newest recs in green

📚 @aakomii 📚

i have a boyfriend 📙

📚 @amyysfics 📚

skz - you fall asleep while texting 📙

skz - your body insecurity gets bad while cuddling 📙 📘

📚 @astraystayyh 📚

mundane activities you'd enjoy with SKZ 📙

skz when you are stressed and overworked 📙

skz as oddly specific love languages 📙

📚 @binnieswings 📚

how skz would show their love for you in small ways 📙

📚 @blu-joons 📚

you’re asthmatic 📙 📘

you receive hate comments 📙 📘

you're insecure 📙 📘

📚@ceelestic 📚

skz as random pinterest text convos (hyung line) (maknae line) 📙

📚 @chan4evurrr 📚

special delivery to the jyp building 📙

📚 @channie-143 📚

skz texting idol reader after she has a wardrobe malfunction on stage 📙

SKZ Texting idol reader when they’re caught in a dating scandal (part 1) (part 2) 📙

texting skz can you peel an orange for me 📙

📚 @cheeseceli 📚

skz arguing over the bill 📙

you speak another language 📙

when you don't use their card 📙

📚 @chocotonez 📚

skz w/ a female ninth member 📙

realizing they love their s/o 📙 📘

📚 @cosmic-railwayxo 📚

sitting on their lap while they’re gaming 📙 📕

overworked with skz 📙 📘

📚 @daceydeath 📚

when you fall and hurt yourself while dancing (hyung line) (maknae line) 📙 📘

📚 @diddybok 📚

finding out best friend!stray kids has a new phone 📙

best friend!stray kids finding out you’re outside their door 📙

asking bff!skz for their password 📙

📚 @dreamescapeswriting 📚

reader is stressed out 📙 📘

skz reaction you want something trivial for your birthday 📙

skz reaction he forgets your birthday 📙 📘

skz reaction you're friends and calls you by a pet name 📙

skz reaction sewing hearts on their sleeves 📙

📚 @elllisaaa 📚

how skz would confess to you 📙

📚 @felixburneracc 📚

supporting you through therapy (part 1 hyun line) | (part 2 maknae line) 📙 📘

📚 @gamerwoo 📚

what type of person i think wrote stray kids 📙 📘

skz if you called them by their english name when they’re in trouble (hyung line) (maknae line) 📙

📚 @gyuworm 📚

imagine if we were dating — ot8 skz texts 📙

random texts 📙

📚 @hanjibug 📚

sleeping beauty 📙

how skz take care of you when you're on your period 📙

📚 @hanjiquokkaaa 📚

Skz reaction their s/o being insecure of their laugh 📙 📘

📚 @horanghaejamjam 📚

someone trying to take upskirt pictures of you 📙 📘

📚 @hvllevator 📚

s/o falls asleep on another member 📙

📚 @hwajin 📚

anxiety 📙 📘

📚 @hyunedew 📚

You take their skzoo 📙

📚 @hyunnieshannie 📚

skz reacting to you having a subscription to their bubble | (part 2) 📙

skz react: to you leaving without saying goodbye / giving them a goodbye kiss 📙

📚 @hyunsllvr 📚

asking bf!skz for a signed pc/album from another member 📙

📚 @hyunverse 📚

random boyfriend text 📙

📚 @ihave-atummyache 📚

Whipped 📙

📚 @il-i-sam 📚

bff!skz get jealous and end up confessing 📙 📘

bf!skz + birthday surprises 📙

📚 @imagine-a-life-like-this 📚

bf!skz convinces s/o to take a break 📙

bff!skz comforts reader about weight insecurities 📙 📘

bff!skz comforts you after rejection 📙 📘

talking contact names with bff!skz 📙

asking bff!skz to be your fake boyfriend 📙

bff!skz saves reader after they got lost 📙

reader distances themselves from bff!skz(part 1) |(part 2 hyung line) | (part 2 maknae line) 📙 📘

bf!skz calls s/o clingy when they ask for cuddles | (apologies) 📙 📘

storming out after a fight with bff!skz 📙 📘

bff!skz gets jealous when another idol asks for readers number 📙 📘

argument with bff!skz | (part 2) 📙 📘

bff!skz saving reader from a bad date 📙

bf!skz finding out you bias another member 📙

📚 @izuhan 📚

when he sees you sleeping outside his place after a fight 📙 📘

📚back to rec list📚

#stray kids #skz #skzoo #fic rec #fic recs #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #fan fic rec #fan fic recs #stray kids imagine #stray kids reaction #stray kids reactions #feelbokkie recs #reader x stray kids #skz x reader #reader x skz

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sunandsstars · 1 year

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More Recom Squad x Reader please! Like how they first met her and stuff, honestly I’d take a whole fic of them 😭😭😭

FIRST MEETINGS

Recombinants x Medic!Reader

Summary: It was love at first sight, a cute little human taking care of them? What more can they ask for.

Warnings: N/A Word count: 1.1k

Taglist: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @eywas-heir @reneehillary69 @cavvedinn @itsyoboysparkel @doggodorime @dumb-fawkin-bitch

They were soldiers, hard muscle on the outside and hard brains on the inside. They showed no fear, death was their middle name, they never gave mercy and shot who deemed worthy of meeting the end of their guns.

But when they first met their personal doctor they became whipped. It was embarrassing, big macho men and women folding at the sight of a little human woman.

General Ardmore was showing Deja Blu around the main control centres, giving them all the information they lost within the fifteen years they were dead. She strolled into one of the medical centres, it being filled with gurneys, high tech equipment and avatar related items. “And this here is where you will specifically be patched up since no other medic wing deals with anything Avatar”

The team looked around in wonder, there was stuff they’ve never seen even on Hellsgate. They admired the hologram projections and cool lab equipment, touching them with big hands and picking them up to look closer. Zhang held up a Na’vi skull model, twisting it around and raising a brow.

“Excuse me!” a little voice cried out to the right of him, the man tilted his head and spotted a human woman in a laboratory coat, a stethoscope around her neck. He squatted so he could be eye to eye with her “you might wanna put that model down, it’s quite fragile and you might end up breaking it”

Zhang’s tail swished behind him “oh yea, sorry” he gave the too big model to her, it looking huge in her little hands. She thanked him and placed it back onto the table, turning around at the General’s call.

“This is Dr ___, she specialises in Na’vi anatomy and has numerous degrees on medicine. She will be your teams doctor from here on out” ___’s eyes widened, she did not recall this in the job description.

Quaritch turned to her and analysed her form, nodding his head in approval. She was timid but if the General approved then he can’t say no “She’ll do general”

“Good. She’s the best there is. Now if you’ll excuse me” Ardmore turned on her heel and started to walk out “get yourself familiar with one another, I got a meeting to attend” but before she could walk out the door, the little doctor rushed towards her, asking to speak outside.

Wainfleet shared a look with Zdinarsk behind the colonel, raising their brows. She was cute, the human woman. But she didn’t seem to happy to be with them. ___ walked back into the medbay and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She had no choice but to work with them, no one else could or would.

Ja walked up to her and kneeled to her height “so..I’m Alexander Ja, I’m the squads medic. Nice to have another doc around to help” he raised a hand for her to shake and she took it, five fingers barely wrapping around only two of his and his ears perked. So small. So cute.

“It’s nice to meet you, although I would’ve hoped a heads up beforehand” ___ took her hand back and walked to a table, taking out a folder that was under one of her arms and opening it. Ardmore gave her some information on the recombinants and their mission. To kill Jake Sully. But before then, the aliens would have to stay at Bridgehead for a while and get used to their new bodies.

“You weren’t told you’d work with us?” Mansk stared at her back, yellow eyes raking up and down her figure behind his shades. ___ placed the file down and nodded, turning around to face the team.

“No I wasn’t. But I wont complain. If Ardmore says I have to then I have to” she shrugged, looking at Quaritch “why don’t you guys follow me. I’ll show you around the rest of the place” they all nodded and stood tall, following behind her and taking in their new home, occasionally breathing through their regulators.

“And this is your dormitory. The rooms are specifically designed for your bodies, so bigger beds, bigger showers, taller ceilings. You won’t need your regulators inside the bedrooms since we have a special filtration system, but you’ll need it for the main area” ___ took a keycard from her pocket and swiped on one of the locks on a door, opening it and stepping inside the room.

“Woah.. pretty rad” Fike spun in a circle looking at their new home. The recoms all shared an apartment, but with separate rooms and en suites. They will share a communal area, it was like being back on Earth.

Zdinarsk agreed, opening the fridge and seeing it stocked up to the brim, ears wiggling. They had all the good stuff. Lyle looked at the little lady and asked where she was staying, just in case they might need her for the future.

“I’m just down the hall, apartment 342. You can either knock for me or page me if you need me while we’re off duty” she tapped a device on her hip to show them it’s on her at all times, she was a doctor, of course she’s on call 24/7.

“Thanks for this ___. We haven’t had much…hospitality from the other folks” Quaritch squatted to look at her and patted her head, tail swishing behind him. The other recoms sounded out their agreement, the other members of Bridgehead gave them cold and disgusted looks when they walked past. Much different to the time they were human. But ___ went out of her way to help them, despite showing reluctance at the start. “We look after our own here, you’re apart of our team now”

___ flushed slightly at the affection “thank you colonel”

“Miles, or Quaritch. Whichever you prefer darlin”Wainfleet nudged Brown next to him and wiggled his brows, both of them giggling like little girls. Quaritch rolled his eyes at his soldiers, giving them the finger and smirking when they immediately turned their backs to him. “These two ladies are Lyle Wainfleet and Steve Brown” they both swivelled their heads and waved at the human “that over there is Alicia Zdinarsk. We call her Z-Dog”

“Yeah she’s an absolute hound in the field” Mansk piped up, Z kicked the back of his knee in retaliation but puffed up her chest when ___ smiled at her. “I’m Kevin Mansk, that’s Sean Fike, Andrew Prager and Kim Zhang”

Quaritch grumbled a little, ears pulled down. He wanted to introduce his squad. “It’s nice to meet you all. I hope we’ll get along well” ___ giggled and patted the colonels arm, noting the pouting face. Miles tail swished and repetitively slapped Lyles legs.

“Colonels got a crushhh” Fike dragged out to Prager in a whisper, only to get yelled at by a big, buff angry cat man.

___ grinned at them. Yeah, they’d get along just fine.

#✰ — avatar works — ✰#avatar the way of water #x reader #atwow #avatar 2009 #avatar x reader #atwow x reader #avatar the way of water x reader #fluff #recombinant #recom quaritch #recom x reader #ja #brown #zdinarsk #colonel miles quaritch #lyle wainfleet #mansk #sean fike

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avocado-writing · 5 months

Note

"You're so very tempting..." - said Aziraphale to the xmass food lined up on the countertop

notes: anon how does it feel to be the funniest fucking person in my inbox at the moment

Crowley walks into your home, warm and welcoming as usual, but this time smelling pleasantly of Christmas spice. He also walks in to the sounds of enthusiastic muttering laced with… lust?

“You’re so very tempting…”

He raises an eyebrow to himself. Perhaps he is about to catch the two of you in the act. He quite enjoys that, actually - it feels sinful. Doubly so when you get him to join in.

He opens the living room door and deflates a bit.

Aziraphale’s head whips round from where he’s staring at the spread. Oh, right. You’re holding your work’s holiday buffet this year. The tables have been manoeuvred to the cosy front room and the food is laid out perfectly: vol-au-vents; canapés; every tiny finger food someone can think of. And Aziraphale is reaching towards it.

He looks guilty.

“Oh! Crowley, I didn’t realise you’d be —”

“Home so early?” he finishes, breezily. Aziraphale retracts his hand from where it’s been comically paused in midair.

“Erm, yes. Lovely to see you my darling, I was just - ”

“Does our nightingale know you’re descending upon their hard work?”

Aziraphale tries to look offended. But mostly he looks like he’s been caught doing something he ought not to.

“I just wanted one little crudité. One wouldn’t be missed…”

“Aziraphale. There is a sign.”

It’s true. You’ve left a large piece of paper blu-tacked above the table: AZIRAPHALE, DO NOT TOUCH.

The angel sighs, utterly rumbled.

“Oh alright. Just please… don’t dob me in?” he begs. Crowley hums thoughtfully.

“Maybe you can convince me to keep quiet.”

Aziraphale gapes.

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“That’s a bit of a serious way to put it.”

“You’re my husband, Crowley!”

“Yes, so the ways of convincing I have in mind you’ll probably enjoy.”

Aziraphale shuts his mouth, thinks it over, and then lets Crowley have his wicked way.

And when you get back from your emergency Prosecco run to the shops, you’re the one who ends up catching them.

#crowley x reader x aziraphale #aziraphale x reader x crowley #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #Xmassy prompts #good omens x reader #ineffable husbands x reader

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bowelfly · 2 years

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i absolutely love old 60s-80s wuxia movies and have watched probably close to a hundred of them just in the last year, especially if you include some of the more wuxia-adjacent kung fu films of the era, but without question my favorite wuxia subgenre is the string of films made mostly in the 80s plus a few from the late 70s and early 90s when hong kong and taiwan movie studios started to get really weird and high concept in an effort to stand out and were churning out all kinds of movies about wizards having laser battles and shit, but since computer graphics weren't really a big thing yet everything had to be done either with practical effects or just hand-drawing the effects on the film.

i say this without an ounce of irony or condescension. there is absolutely nothing "so bad it's good" about these movies. they genuinely fucking whip ass and the amount of effort and artistry put into such weird and wild concepts is mind-blowing, especially considering many of them were made to be practically disposable and some of them only survived to today by the grace of someone happening to save the original negative or just an intact 35mm print from being tossed in a dumpster.

to that end i've been compiling a list of films in this my most beloved of genres and if you love wizard shit then you really owe it to yourself to track some of these down and give them a watch:

EDIT: forgot to mention that many of these you can find on public torrent servers like rarbg and there's a surprising number just on archive.org and youtube. but also if you can spare the cash, many excellent old hong kong movies are starting to get really nice physical media releases from boutique DVD and blu-ray distribution companies

#bfly talks movies #gifs #wuxia #wizards #letterboxd #hong kong #i've resisted the temptation to dump a bunch of my movie nerd shit here for a while but im quite proud of my list #i've only watched about 2/3 of these so far since there's only so many and i want to pace myself #but so far there hasn't been a single dud #also if you want to watch one of these and cant find it anywhere if you ask nicely i might be able to hook u up ;]#flashing

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sobeautifullyobsessed · 2 months

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'It's Not the Years, Honey - It's the Mileage'

a Whumped Doctor Strange one-shot

Inspired by a couple of pre Multiverse of Madness articles comparing Stephen Strange to Indiana Jones😉😁

genre: whump, hurt/comfort, light humor

rating: general audience

characters: Stephen Strange, Tess O'Neill (Healer of Kamar-Taj, OFC); established relationship; Cloak of Levitation

word count: 1.9k

It was supposed to have been date night, but Stephen was overdue. Three hours overdue. Again. Tess had taken these things in stride, right from the start. After all, you can’t be lucky enough to be the significant other of the Sorcerer Supreme without being incredibly patient, understanding, and flexible. Besides which, he was always so adorable when he finally found his way home, sincere in his apologies, and more often than not, presenting her with a fresh bouquet, which he managed to conjure even before he uttered a single word. Tonight’s transgression was bound to be a two dozen roses mea culpa--and she just knew he’d make them her favorite: pale pink American Beauties.

Not that he ever needed to. His company was dear enough recompense for any time he kept her waiting. Except for the worrying, of course, but Tess had quickly adjusted to that, and so far she hadn’t made any complaint, no matter how late her Stephen managed to show up. She’d rather spend their precious time on more pleasant pursuits--and on showing him however she could, how happy he made her simply by being...him.

And so, Tess had adjusted down their plans. First, from dinner out and a movie, to take-out and the latest blu-ray release. And then from that, to something she could whip up, quick and easy, in the Sanctum’s smaller kitchen. Stephen was bound to be hungry when he arrived, and she had a hearty pot of stew simmering on the stove and a batch of honey cornbread ready to pop into the oven while he cleaned up.

Tess had just given the stew another stir, when she felt a tapping on her shoulder. She turned to find Cloak looking battle singed and...well...harried. How this being without a face could express such a wide range of emotions was a continual wonder to her--but right now her immediate reaction was to ask if Stephen was alright.

Cloak’s collar shook a clear ‘no’, and then it tugged at her arm, to get her moving. She turned off the stove and moved the stewpot to another burner, and followed Cloak down the grand staircase. And there sat Stephen on the third step, head bowed and shoulders hunched, his bloodstained tunic rent in several places. Tess’s heart leapt to her throat, though she tried to remain calm, realizing that he needed her as a Healer tonight, far more than as the woman who loved him.

She dropped to one knee in front of him, noting that the shelf of his jaw bore a dark bruise, and that he had a nasty cut across the bridge of his nose, a black eye and a split lip. “Hey,” she said softly, reaching her sure hands towards him, studying his wounds with practiced eyes, evaluating which she should address first. Thankfully, the blood on his clothing was dried, so that Tess concluded he wasn’t actively bleeding. “What happened,” she asked quietly, concerned to see him breathe shallowly, as breathing any deeper appeared to make him wince.

“You don’t wanna know,” he muttered, as she placed both of her palms on his chest and closed her eyes, searching for any internal damage.

“Ow...ow...ow...owwwwwwww,” he grumbled, “Is this really necessary?”

Cloak was flitting back and forth, giving the closest approximation of pacing as possible. “It certainly is, as well you know...Doctor.” To that he only grunted, then followed with a heavy groan when she palpated his lower ribs and abdomen. “Stephen,” she informed him patiently, “You’ve got at least three cracked ribs...”

“I know,” he replied curtly, “Don’t you think I know that?”

Tess tried to placate him. “Of course you do--but there’s no need to be pissy about it. It’ll just take a simple healing spell to start them knitting properly together.”

“I...know,” he repeated through gritted teeth, attempting to stand. Cloak had to swoop in to keep him from landing hard on his bottom.

Tess rose and wiped her hands on her denim capris. “Cloak, can you get him up to the infirmary, so I can take care of him properly?”

Cloak nodded, but Stephen had other ideas. “No infirmary--just get me to my room...”

Honestly, doctors really do make the worst patients, she thought, although she held her tongue, telling Stephen instead, “Nope. It’s the infirmary for you.” He huffed, but didn’t speak up. “And that’s Healer’s orders, Stephen. I outrank you in this, at least for the moment...”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled dismissively. He handed her his sling ring, “We can portal there--it’ll be quicker and a less bumpy trip than relying on...” He wagged his head in Cloak’s direction.

Tess had to suppress a chuckle, as Cloak’s reaction to that perceived insult was to turn its back to Stephen. “Alright,” she sighed, slipping his ring on and bringing the golden circle to life. She returned to his side and offered him a hand to help him stand up. “Just lean on me, and we’ll be there in a jiffy.”

She could feel his aversion to appearing so needy, even as he braced himself with an arm across her shoulders, but knew well that it wasn’t on her account. Stephen generally disliked showing weakness to anyone, although as their relationship had blossomed, his trust in her had been enough for him to reveal much of what he hid from the world behind sarcasm and bravado. Tess had always taken such precious trust as both a privilege and an honor. Stiff lipped against his pain and leaning on her heavily, they hobbled through the portal and Tess led him to sit on the nearest bed.

The infirmary was empty but for them, and she took a moment to close the portal, and then rushed to gather her supplies. Disinfectant and a basin of warm water, along with a washcloth and the softest, fluffiest towel she could conjure, for after she got him cleaned up. And bandages. Lots and lots of bandages. Tess returned to Stephen’s side to find him struggling to remove his tunic. She set down her things, telling him, “Here...let me...”

“I’ve...got...this.” he grunted, though it was clearly hurting him to raise his arms above his head.

“No. No you don’t,” she corrected him gently, “Please--just let me do my job, Stephen.”

“Alright...alright...” He did his best to relax as she worked the garment over his head and off. Tess gasped at the network of contusions across his shoulders and upper chest. “Dammit, Tess...that hurts!”

“I know, darling. I know.” To her relief, most of his bruises appeared superficial. “Let’s start by getting you cleaned up, okay.” Stephen nooded, and closed his eyes as she washed the cut on his nose, and several shallow scratches on his cheeks and chin, finally seeing to the split on his lower lip.

Next, she addressed the wounds on his back, circling behind him and perching on the edge of the bed. She was relieved again to find that they were rather shallow as well, and made quick work of cleansing them. Tess chose that moment to speak to him as his woman, rather than as a Healer. “You know--you’re extremely fit for a man your age, darling. But it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more careful out there.”

“It’s not the years, honey...” he snorted, “...it’s the mileage...” Stephen had stiffened despite her gentle approach, but when she applied the disinfectant, he hissed out a string of very un-Stephen-like curses.

“Don’t be such a baby,” she muttered, her patience beginning to strain.

“I’m not,” he responded petulantly.

Coulda fooled me, she thought, but bit back that retort. A few minutes more and she had his wounds properly bandaged. Tess set aside the basin and the towel, telling him, “Now let’s see about those ribs. Do you think you can lay back? It’ll be easier that way.”

“Of course I can,” he barked, “I’m not an invalid, you know.”

No, you’re just the crankiest Master of the Mystic Arts that I've ever encountered. Bravest and most selfless too, so I suppose I can forgive your churlishness.

He winced when she placed her hands on his shoulders, helping to ease him onto his back. Closing her eyes again, she skimmed her hands above the skin covering his damaged ribs, whispering the charm needed to bolster his body’s natural healing ability. Satisfied that she had succeeded once she could feel the spell take root, Tess pulled her hands away and opened her eyes. Stephen’s were closed, and his face had gone slack with a look of relief. Good enough, she concluded, hoping he would sleep a long while to aid in healing.

Still, she thought she could do a little something to speed the reduction in the nastiest of his contusions--and it would be best to try while he was asleep. She reached tentative fingers to Stephen’s right shoulder. His eyes flew open with a start, “Owwwwww...that’s still tender, you know!”

“I’m just trying to help...”

“Well...I don’t need a nurse anymore,” he groused, “I just want to sleep.”

“If you let me see to these now, you’ll feel much better in the morning...” Tess trailed her fingertips along his jaw, channeling her own energy into relieving his pain. “Any better?”

"A little,” he pouted, “But it hurts...almost everywhere...”

There seemed to be no pleasing him this way--but still, it was her nature to try. Exasperated, she blurted out, “Well, dammit, Stephen--where doesn’t it hurt?”

Looking defiant, he showed her his elbow, “Here.” Tess laid the softest kiss she could upon it.

“And...and here,” he added, pointing to his forehead, his whole demeanor softening in response to her tenderness. Cautiously, Tess leaned in and planted a loving kiss there. Momentum had turned in her favor.

Stephen pointed to his un-blackened eye, “Um...here?”

Tess smiled softly, watching his eyes flutter shut, and then brushed her lips as lightly as she could upon his eyelid. There was a moment as her face hovered over his, and the look when he opened his eyes made her heart start to melt--for within their mercurial depths, she saw both gratitude and an apology for his childish behavior. Stephen tapped his lips and murmured, “Here.”

She wondered if he felt her indulgent smile as their lips finally met, but before too long their kiss had gone from chaste to something deeper and more enduring, as he relaxed completely under her loving ministration. When she finally pulled away, Tess found that her kiss had worked a magic of its own, and her beloved Stephen was out like a light.

Tess arose and draped the sheet across him lightly, then levitated the next bed over and landed it flush against his. Her hunch was that he’d sleep through the night, but she wanted to be close by if he should need her.

Come morning, she awoke to find him gone--can’t keep a good Sorcerer down for long, she mused--but in his place, he’d left three dozen pale pink American Beauties, and a small piece of handwritten parchment. It was brief but to the point:

Thank you, honey. For everything. Love - your Stephen xx

tagging: @hithertoundreamtof23 @stewardofningishzida @ironstrange1991 @mousedetective @aphroditesdilemma @icytrickster17 @groovyqueer @battledress @aelaer @mckiwi @couldntbedamned

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rubyceazaart · 5 months

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Yet another group pic of some ocs I did. This time, the group of ocs across Fandom and universes I like to imagine in a fighting game.

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theonemeathead · 3 months

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Spy x Reader, "Damn Spys"

hello! sorry for the lack of content, all i do is work nowadays. here's a spy x reader smutfic in the meantime, enjoy!

tws for fem implied reader, afab anatomy

Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck.

You propelled yourself forward, skidding down the hall. You slightly fumbled over yourself, quickly regaining your balance before sprinting off again. Everyone was on edge, it was a code red; BLU Spy was in the base. Ironic. You had little time to look for him, before God knows what might happen to all of you.

You turned sharply to the right, your loaded gun in your hand. You carried something high calliber in situations like this, it was necessary. Spys were sneaky and played dirty, they toyed with their prey until they had their fill and, only then, did they go for the kill. For all you knew, there could be duplicate of yourself running around, gaining your team's trust. Trust nobody when a Spy is in your midst.

You gunned for the intelligence room. It was only a matter of time before your briefcase was picked up and stolen by the French version of a modern day Boogeyman. You stood in front of the door, racking your brain for the code. It changed weekly, it was never the same input. Soldier normally left the code on a bright yellow sticky note above the keypad, but it seems this was the one time he'd forgotten. You typed in multiple sequences before a familiar chime played, the lock lighting up green and clicking open. Proud of yourself, you turned the doorknob, laying eyes on the briefcase immediately. You scanned the room, carefully. Spys had multiple tricks up their sleeves, including the ability to cloak. Turning invisible was not just a parlor trick when it meant you could end up, face-down, with a flashy balisong dug deep into your back.

Nodding your head, you began walking backwards. You were about to turn around and high-tail back to the others, desperate to be anything but by yourself, when you tripped over... nothing? You had fallen backwards, right on your ass. You were lucky none of the others were here, but then that led to your next question. What could have possibly been in your way? You didn't have time to think before the eerie sound of a Spy decloaking rang out, causing goosebumps to appear immediately on your body. You whipped around, catching the wrist of a very familiar man.

A Spy.

Your brow furrowed, you didn't think twice before pulling him down, towards you. He stumbled, falling forward slightly as you moved to the side. He was so light, so easy to just push around. You wondered how someone so skilled could just be tossed like nothing. You had never really touched a Spy, you tried to stay away from any of them as much as possible. The soft silk of his satin navy jacket felt heavenly, it was a shame he was trying to kill you. He tossed his beloved butterfly knife from one hand to the other, skillfully catching it and swinging back in one graceful motion. You had barely managed to jump back, hardly escaping being sliced like swiss cheese. He seemed to be getting growingly more frustrated the longer you two kept up what felt more like a waltz, than a fight. You kept narrowly avoiding lethal cuts, pushing him around as if he weighed nothing. Having had enough, he growled, fading away in a cloud of smoke again. All that indicated he was still here was the sound of his heeled footsteps.

"Turning invisible? That's cheap," you whispered more to yourself, than anyone. You panted, your senses were heightened from anxiety. Your eyes flicked around, he could be anywhere, now. The hair on your neck stood up immediately when you felt a lingering presence beginning to creep up behind you. As if on queue, he decloaked, his weapon drawn and ready to spill blood. The blade yearned for the sweet taste of that metallic crimson, and it had your name written all over it. You knew the feeling, you've grown familiar with the searing sting that would strike you down in between your shoulder blades. Being backstabbed was nothing more than just a common occurrence on the battlefield, but in your own base, it was laced with something that dug deeper than just the length of a knife; Shame.

You caught him once again, your eyes locked with his. His brow was angled down, tightly pinned together as he tried to keep pushing past the grip you had on him. Seems Soldier's training does pay off. His steel tinted eyes glistened in flickering light of the overhead LEDs, the red light of the alarm illuminating him every now and then. You took a moment to admire what little bit of his face you could see. His eyebrows were well trimmed, as if he plucked them himself. There was a slight crease on the bridge of his nose, the hook leaving a deep indent in between his eyes. You could smell the distinct scent of aftershave from how close you were, along with a fragrant cologne. His teeth, although perfect, were slightly stained from nicotine. You could see the remnants of what would be where his facial hair would grow, a shadow all that's left of what was once there. He was well kempt, you'll give him that. You had half-forgotten you were about to die, until you felt your hand falter slightly. His butterfly knife was dangerously close to the vital atery in your neck. You didn't know what to do, you felt cornered.

So, naturally, you swung your other hand up to meet the fabric of his inky blue balaclava. Taking a fistful of the fabric, you yanked it off, tossing it far off to the side. He stared, wide-eyed down at you. You felt his movements stutter, as if expecting anything but that to have happened. You took the window of opportunity to knock the balisong out of his hands, watching as it slid itself under a set of filing cabinets. Now, you were face to face with Spy, yet he didn't have the illusion of hiding behind a mask anymore. He backed off, creating distance between you two.

His cheek bones were high and defined, his jaw almost chiseled. He had a few wrinkles, frown lines and crow's feet, indicating he was aged. Much older than you. The part that surprised you the most was how much hair was under his disguise. He had a headful, most of it slicked back to the top of his head. It was a dark shade of brown, almost black. Grey streaks formed from the root, fanning back and feathering through the rest of his wavy hair. You were awestruck, to say the least.

"You're beautiful." Your words came out, breathless. You watched his frantic expression shift to one of blatant confusion.

"Pardon?" He had been called many things, handsome, sexy... but never beautiful. He flushed slightly at your compliment before quickly shaking his head. You had just ripped his mask off, sent his most prized possession flying across the room, and now you had the gall to compliment him?

He sculked towards you, watching as you took a step back everytime he moved forward. You stopped abruptly when your lower half bumped into the table; The table your intelligence sat on. He trapped you, slamming both of his long, skinny arms around your frame. Instinctively, you shrunk down. He was tall, so much taller than you. You flinched when he brought a hand up to your waist, taking the gun from its holster. He sat it on the floor, kicking it far away from where you both stood. Now you were both defenseless in the sense that you both lacked weapons.

"Do you know what I do to those who've seen my full identity, mon chérie?" The words rolled off his tongue, venom dripping from his words. The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine. And although he worked for the enemy, you felt yourself wanting him to say more, to do more to you. Were you into this?

"What?" It sounded meek, desperate even. Damn Spys are all the same; Flirty and suave. But, God, was he good at it. He smirked, a sinister undertone etched deep into his expression. He traced a gloved hand from the top of your knee, up towards your inner thigh. He kneaded teasing circles, dangerously close to the warmth between your legs. You were embarrassed how aroused this was getting you. The risk of being caught in an open space like this, the thrill of flirting with someone who you were supposed to hate, it was all too much. He chuckled darkly, pressing himself into you, the crotch of his slacks rubbing against your soft body.

Oh, he was getting off on this too.

"Why don't I show you." He wrapped one hand around your neck, digits pressing slightly into the vulnerable flesh between his fingers. Tenderly, he connected his lips to yours. He reveled at the way you whined into the kiss, amused by how needy you were. He allowed you to unbutton the jacket of his suit, helping you peel it off. Tongues danced around each other, the taste of mint and menthol numbing your senses. He was so intoxicating, he made even a sloppy makeout feel elegant.

He broke the kiss, a small string of saliva still connecting your mouths. You panted, pulling him by the loops of his slacks. Eagerly, you went for the zipper, ready to have your brains fucked out. Yet, it was his turn to catch your wrists. He sternly looked at you, pushing your hands back to your chest. You swallowed thickly, obeying the silent command. Instead, you opted to move to yourself. You fiddled with the buttons of your own jeans, hastily pulling them down to your ankles and off. You hopped up on the table behind you, gasping when cold steel made contact with your warm, bare skin. Spy watched you, eagerly. His gaze was hungry, maybe even desperate. There was no 'double' of you yet, MannCo. was still working out the kinks of it all. Perhaps seeing you flaunt yourself on the battlefield drove him crazy. Perhaps that's why it felt like he targeted you during those matches, to get close to you, to feel you. You reminisced often of the times of how he would hold you as you faded to Respawn.

Broken from your thoughts, you felt the leather material of an expensive glove paw at the bottom of your shirt. He looked at you for confirmation, in which you obliged by helping him lift it up and off. Experienced hands trailed to your back, masterfully unclipping your bra. It felt so nice, being pampered like this. You allowed it to fall of your shoulders, the straps sliding down your bicep as you peeled the coarse material off. You were bare beneath him, save for your panties.

"Tu es belle, mon ange," he spoke, breathlessly. He dipped, leaving soft kisses down your jaw and towards your collarbone. He lapped at the crook where the dip of your neck met your shoulders, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh. He sucked, a slight sting beginning to form from the sensation. Your breath hitched, a small gasp leaving you as you felt the familiar tenderness of a bruise beginning to form. He plastered you with marks, as if claiming you. Claiming you, the 10th mercenary of the RED team, for BLU.

You laced one of your hands in his greying hair, instinctively pulling at the soft strands when he bit down particularly harsh. You heard a low groan, causing another wave of heat to pool between your legs. Seemingly satisfied with the dark purple marks littered across your upper body, he began making his way down. Leaving slow, sensual kisses down your sternum and towards your chest and down your stomach. He looped his fingers around the band of your underwear and began pulling. He slid them down with little trouble, caressing the back of your leg with his other hand as he did so. Even in the blaring alarms, he could still see how you glistened for him.

"You seem to be enjoying this, ma fleur," he purred. You let out a shakey breath, eyes following the hand that trailed from you knee, down towards your warmth. You sighed in bliss when you felt the foreign material of his gloves delve into the folds of your cunt, rubbing expertly around your clit. He started slow, making you whine and grind back against him.

"More, please. I need more." Your voice was lined with ecstasy. He chuckled, amused by how you didn't beat around the bush. Maybe you weren't so hard to break.

"Whatever you wish."

You grabbed his wrist, arching into the touch as he rubbed faster. It was insane how good at this he was. You began to feel a coil, as if a something inside of you was beginning to tighten. You rocked your hips in rythm with his fingers, biting your lip to hold back how loud you wanted to be. Eventually, it snapped. Your grip tightened on his arm, your eyes screwed shut as you felt hot bliss course through tour body. He worked you through it, stopping when you finally came down. You looked up at him, mouth slightly agape. The Frenchman grinned, maniacally, down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling from pride.

A silent look was shared between the two of you; A knowing look. He unfastened the buckle of his belt, allowing his pants to slide down towards the floor. He kept his shirt and tie on, but allowed you to pull his briefs down, studying your reaction as you watched his hard cock spring free. He was a lot longer than you imagined, yet not thick. He was uncircumcised, his cock a bit darker than the rest of his body. You watched as he pumped himself a couple of times, the head of his cock peaking out. It was a light pink, cute in a weird way. You watched as a line of clear precum dripped towards the floor.

He guided the tip towards your aching pussy, slowly sliding himself into the wetness of your body. He let out a long groan, as if he hadn't done this in a long time, as if he needed to use your body. You gasped when he bottomed out, the head of his cock resting against your cervix. You whimpered, desperate for him to create friction. Just like him, it had been a while since you'd done this too.

He pulled his hips back, testing the waters before pushing fully back into you. He positoned himself above you so that his hands were pulling you up towards him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, encasing him deep inside you. You threw your arms around his neck, one planting itself deep in his hair, yet again. He fucked into you, rough and fast. Every thrust illicited an even more vulgar moan from you. It didn't help he was rather noisy in your ear, either. Praising you in a language you didn't understand, groaning your name. Not your class name either; Your real name.

Suddenly, he hit a spot, his cock dragging fully against it. He abused it, knowing what it was doing to you. You couldn't even get the words out before you reached your climax, biting down on his shoulder to muffle your noises. This seemed to be what pushed him over, the way you tightened around him and moaned his name, it was too much. He released, deep inside the warmth of your body. You could feel yourself getting filled, bred to the brim with his cum beginning to leak out of you. He pulled out, leaning back to gaze into your eyes. His gaze was gentle, almost loving. Maybe this is what he needed, a companion. After 23 years, it felt nice to just hold somebody. To you, it felt nice to be held.

You both knew this was not going to be a one time thing.

"SPY, COME IN. HAVE YOU PENETRATED THE DEFENSES, YET? OVER." The voice of the BLU Soldier rang out over Spy's watch. He groaned, rolling his eyes before raising it to respond.

"I've penetrated something, oui," he winked at you, taking his other hand and combing his hair to slick back down. He got dressed, pulling the mask back on as the final touch. He left a quick kiss on your forehead, before clicking something on his watch. He nodded his head at you, standing at the exit. "Until again, mon ange."

You watched as he ran off down the hall, disappearing into a cloud of smoke. You shook your head, amused.

As you slid your shirt back on, finally fully dressed, the weight of what had happened had hit you. He was still the BLU Spy. You whipped your head back to the table, eyes widening as you noticed that your team's briefcase was now missing. Your jaw dropped and all you could do was stand there as the Administrator's voice rang through the base, disappointment evident.

"You've failed! The enemy has secured our intelligence."

Damn Spys.

#tf2 #team fortress two #tf2 x reader #tf2 fandom #spy tf2 x reader #tf2 spy #tf2 spy x reader #spy tf2 #spy

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imaginedreamwrite · 1 year

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Wildest Dreams: Part 5

The ball in his hands had been tossed back and forth aimlessly, his eyes fixating on the bright white stitching that held the leather together and had been engrained with the school’s logo on the side.

It was all a distraction while he played the waiting game with Bucky, hopeful that you would still make an appearance at their practice.

They had been talking about it since the Dean’s office, the two alphas discussing how they could manage to get the three of you to move forward in friendship and then a relationship, drawing from your shared past as motivation to solidify your future.

And still, it had depended on their hope that they would see you in the stands with some of the other omegas and girls that had been invited to watch. The invitation had to be made and cleared by the security for the team and stadium, and there would’ve been a pass left for you to enter the stadium.

“She’s going to be here,” Steve mumbled under his breath as a reminder to himself, another hopeful wish that he’d look over and see you waiting for him; for them.

Steve and Bucky had been rendered eager by the promise you made to watch their practices, and even as hopeful as they were, they wondered if you would skip out on them. There were always some doubts that you would let your anger and your hurt, your past abandonment overshadow the chance to be together again.

Whether you would let that go slowly and make an effort to be with them, even starting as friends, or hold onto it was almost debilitating.

Steve had held his breath and bit his tongue while he was tossing the ball back and forth, his gaze briefly darting through the crowd of players to find Bucky. Their eyes met, blu-green with crystalline blues, and a smile built on both the alpha’s faces. A form of silent communication bounced between Steve and Bucky, a message sent and received with a wink and purse of his lips.

The two alphas were so close, so well bound and familiar with each other that it seemed like they could have entire conversations and not say a single thing. It was an extension of the connection you three once had together and hopefully would have again.

“She’s going to come.” Steve tucked the ball under his arm exhaling the puff of air he had kept in while slowly traversing to the edge of the field where his helmet had remained on the steel bench, set beside the bag of medical gear the team’s first aid staff had.

He had stooped to the bench and sank upon the metal, his leg and feet stretched out in front of him.

He slammed the ball upon the hard surface and ran his fingers through his hair, watching Bucky screwing around with a few of the linemen, specifically the defensive tackle and the defensive end. The two defensive players were just as tall as Steve and Bucky were, though Sam had been far broader than even Steve was, and Ari was far more physically imposing.

Both Sam and Ari, surprisingly, made Steve and Bucky feel small.

“Practice is starting, get your helmet on.” The assistant coach had directed his attention toward Steve and then nodded his head in the direction of the space behind Steve.

The dirty blonde whipped his head around, a grin wide and bold bursting on his face when he spotted you sitting in the lower middle. You weren’t paying attention to Steve or Bucky, you were having a conversation with Rhys as she waved her hands animatedly, relaying some eclectic tale of her wonder.

The two of you weren’t aware that Steve or Bucky had been staring at you, though Steve almost preferred your indifference. With you paying attention to Rhys and not him, Steve could study you and commit every detail of you and your appearance on the stand as if he was going to be judged or tested.

He was amazed at how beautiful and adorable an omega like you could have appeared, how breathtaking you could be in a cable-knit school toque and an oversized pale lavender Karbon fall jacket, with only the appearance of a sweater poking above the hem of the hood.

Despite it still being fall and just barely on the cusp of a potential early winter, the air and weather had taken a sour turn. There was still endless potential for warm weathered fall days, and months before the season ended on December 11th, however, the area was being battered by a cold snap.

“Rogers!” the coach had called his name, Rhys and yourself turning your head to look at him.

Steve reacted as if a jolt of lightning had shot through him, standing in earnest. He rose to his feet quickly and snatched his helmet from the bench seat, taking a single step before he looked back at you and smiled small.

“I knew she would come.” Steve exchanged a whisper to Bucky in passing, the two bumping hips with each other.

“Never doubted it for a second.” Bucky grinned, placing a kiss on Steve’s cheek with a firm pat on the ass before he stepped on the field with Steve, Bucky helped yank Steve’s helmet on his head before pulling his own on.

Bucky turned his head and looked your way.

He watched you as you fiddled with your phone before you slipped it back in your pocket, drawing your eyes upon Steve and Bucky before looking away. You dropped your gaze to the bench beside you and your bag that you found mildly interesting, or maybe it was the spine of whatever book you had packed. It was probably your thought that maybe you would get bored and need something to read, instead of focusing on the crash coming from the field.

“Rogers! Barnes! Quit screwing around and run your play!” Bucky’s lips were tugged into a smirk, and he found himself glancing over his shoulder toward Steve, blue-green and blue meeting before the sharp sting of the whistle from their coach redirected their attention.

Your fingers ran over the ridge in the stadium seat over and over, treating the hard edge like it was a stress ball rather than something to be sat on. Your eyes had been glued to the field as they ran play after play, each more impressive than the last, with pristine functionality.

Though you didn’t understand the exact details of their practice you were amazed by the speed and the force that was put behind each whip of the ball or tackle that would’ve rendered you a pancake on the turf. It was improbable that you could have ever been as quick on your feet or carried enough strength to throw a man into the grass without hesitation, though it was almost amusing to imagine yourself on the field with them.

When practice had first started, you were debating with yourself to read the book you had brought with you, thinking that there would be nothing interesting about the players going at each other like modern gladiators, and yet you were deridingly entranced.

You were so taken by the team, so enamoured by the skills and tactics they had used on the field, leaving you caught by surprise when someone had come to sit beside you.

A shock that resulted in you finally using your book though not as intended, rather it was a weapon to whack the unsuspecting and young alpha across the shoulder and bicep with as much force as you could muster.

“I’m part of the team!” The brown hair and brown-eyed alpha had squeaked, batting you off with a wave of his hand and a plea for you to quit beating on him. “I’m Peter!”

“Announce yourself!” You huffed in retaliation and shoved your book back into your bag, side-eyeing the alpha when he settled himself beside you, rubbing his sore shoulder and bicep.

He didn’t inherently give you the impression of being an alpha you should have feared or wanted to get away from, rather he almost seemed as if he could have been an omega like yourself.

This alpha looked younger than he probably was and while he seemed smaller than almost all of the players on the field, a second look at him gave you the impression that he was not as weak or frail as you may have suspected.

“If you’re on the team then why aren’t you on the field?” Your suspicion of him had tapered off just enough to not hit him when he leaned forward and leaned in, his hands folded in front of him.

“Well, technically I’m on the team. I’m a freshman and second-string. Second string-“

“You’re a backup player, I get the gist.” You drew your eyes away from Peter, glancing toward the field and the two alphas who drove you mad.

Steve and Bucky were speaking to one of the defensive players, the one you thought was defensive end, the three of them speaking quietly amongst each other in a little troupe of gossip that had only been cut short with the sharp whistle. The last play of practice had been called and as the players took their positions and readied themselves to run the ball, Peter had spoken again.

“So your Steve and Bucky’s omega?” He drew your attention toward him, looking at you with curiosity, his brown eyes reflective and reminiscent of a puppy dog gaze if you had ever seen one.

“I’m not their omega, I’m their friend.” You corrected Peter, gaze flitting back and forth between the game and the alpha beside you, humming under your breath after the final play had gone through and been run to near perfection.

Steve and Bucky didn’t spare a thought, they hadn’t waited a moment before they yanked their helmets off and set them on the bench, planning to retrieve them later after they had come to greet you. You decided to meet them halfway, and after you had gathered your things, you started making your way down the stairs of the stadium.

You were stopped halfway down, your nose scrunching as you picked up the heady scent of sweat and grime from the turf and any residual dirt, the aroma making you grit your teeth. You wanted to protest any physical contact with the two alphas, planning on making a demand for a shower first, however, Steve and Bucky had taken the chance from you.

Bucky had grabbed you first, encasing his arms around you with an overeager reach. He lifted you from the stands as if you weighed nothing, his voice coming out in a seductive purr, almost as if he was a cat rubbing against its favourite scratching post.

“You stink! Bucky get off!” You whacked his arm repeatedly, squeaking when you were handed off to Steve, the latter who hugged you just as tightly, nonchalantly scenting you with their natural aromas and what they had picked up from practice.

“Steve! You need to shower-“ you groaned, your hands pushing at his chest until he set you down. The two alphas had looked down at you with matching beaming smiles and eyes brightly cast upon you.

“Dinner, bean?” Bucky tilted his head, cocking it like a curious puppy or kitten. “We can start tutoring?”

“You need showers, both of you. You smell disgusting.” You winced, yanking your bag from the ground to drape it over your shoulder, eyeing Steve and Bucky with mild annoyance. “Your scents are overpowering.”

“Shower, then dinner?” Steve alluded, generally hopeful that you would say yes without a moment’s hesitation.

“You just practiced for-“

“-now we’re hungry. Come on, Bean! We’ll pay. Please….?” Bucky’s bottom lip protruded, his eyes boring into yours with unkempt familiarity.

“It’s not about money, Bucky. It’s-“

No matter how you had tried, no matter how annoyed or vexed you were, you couldn’t come up with a quantifiable reason why you could or should deny them.

No matter how hard you thought or tried to resist the two alphas who were standing closer to you than you anticipated, and had been amorously drawn to each other as they were you, you felt yourself cratering and crumbling like a brittle piece of plastic.

You were giving in, caving in on yourself with little resistance and the more you tried to think of reasons to deny them, the harder it was to think of anything justifiable.

“Take a shower. You stink.” You scrunched your nose and shuddered, stepping away from the two of them. “And then…”

“And then…?” Bucky grinned, reaching his hand out to brush your hair off your shoulder.

“Dinner. As friends. That’s it.”

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la-imp · 1 year

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Paint me like one of your Blu Boys - Part I.

Lyle Wainfleet x Reader(Human/Avatar) drabbles.

Summary: I wrote this because, literally, no one asked for it. This little drabble is a self-indulgent fic I wanted to do because I felt it would be in Wainfleet's character to actually do something like this. And of course, he finds someone (naive enough) to oblige his antics. Lately, he has grown on me - I love that himbo sdm.

Man, this turned out much longer than I anticipated... So I am gonna split it up in two parts. The next one will be a bit spicier.

Minors DNI! - 18+

Suggestive themes are included.

---------------------------

Lyle would be that one member in every group to concoct various shenanigans to pass time whenever he is off duty. When he was revived as a Recom soldier, this behavior only increased.

After going through a bit of an existential crisis, he came to terms with his new body and identity, despite the fact he would never be the original Lyle Wainfleet. However, that didn't mean he couldn't have his share of fun. Especially after he learned to appreciate everything a lot more, given that he was offered a second shot at life.

Safe to say, 'growing' into your body gained a whole new meaning, including the extra appendages, blue complexion, swiveling ears, and the additional Na'vi instincts. But unlike some Recoms, he quickly fell in love with his new physique, especially the pleasant upgrade downstairs.

The ladies certainly loved him. Yes, he would unquestionably indulge in some 'entertainment' or 'relief' after returning from a long mission out in the field. The RDA made sure to cover every one of their needs. Service Comfort, as they'd call it. Safe to say, being a Recom and a member of the Deja Blu unit had its perks.

He was often walked in on by either Z-Dog or Prager, when he was sprawled out on his oversized bed, the sheets barely covering his dignity with three human women snuggled up to him, hairs tousled and peppered with multiple hickeys. "Hey Wainfleet, you need to be at the medical bay for your annual checkup. Be there sharp in- HOLY SHIT!"

Lyle's expression remained unperturbed as he replied, "For Christ's sake Prager, ever heard of knocking?" He snapped before tossing a pillow at Prager’s general direction. Fortunately, the Recom had already slammed the door shut with an expression akin to as if he'd just seen the devil. Before Prager quickly departed, he sighed anxiously, sensing the itching desire to bleach his eyes in order to forget what he’d just witnessed.

Wainfleet dismissed the ladies before getting himself ready, making sure he didn't smell like he had five hours of non-stop action in the sheets. After all, he had something, or rather, someone to look forward to. You.

A cute medical assistant, aka nurse who specialized in Na'vi physiology and psychology. He remembered your presence the first time he opened his yellow irises and gained consciousness as a Recom. When you came to his side to soothe or instruct him, he thought you as an angel. Maybe it was also due to the fact that he first laid eyes on you with the bright, artificial light shining behind you like a halo.

Nonetheless, he was whipped. Smitten.

But that wasn't enough to prevent you from his teasing and typical Wainfleet-esque fashion treatment. He would often drop in unannounced and kick the door against the adjacent wall while you were at the lab, doing your research. As a result of the explosive entrance and the loud noise, you would often shriek. "Hey (y/n)! I found that weird purple star-shaped plant and I figured you could use it for medicinal purposes or do somethin- why are you screaming?" You would jump from your chair and 'courteously' ask him to stop kicking the door open. Since then your door had to be replaced three times. He had taken a keen likening towards you through means that cannot be explained.

His excitement could barely be contained, wearing that shit-eating grin whenever you graced him with your feather-soft touches, which were at its core, just simple physicals like testing his motor skills and bone density, muscle tissue development - the whole nine yards. Of course, he would squirm a bit in his seat, grunting or mumbling something like having 'an itch' that needs to be scratched, and you would politely remind him it was not your damn job to give him massages. His ears would droop a little after you denied him.

But he was quick to bounce back. After some time, his visits would grow more frequent, using every trick in the book to either feign an illness or even purposefully injure himself (which are minor compared to your usual patients) for you to patch up. Eventually, Wainfleet ate up most of your time, leaving little to no room for scheduling with the others.

Your colleagues would often poke fun at you and send Wainfleet into your care when they felt they didn't want to deal with his horseshit. Having no choice, you caved and leaned into the fact of having him as your 'regular' patient. "Fine Mr. Wainfleet, take a seat," you would sigh, but with a slight smile. Wainfleet saw it as an excuse to spend some quality time with you and have you baby him after every mission. After all, it was hard fucking work. Didn't he at least deserve a reward or some form of compensation?

"Oh, you're taking such good care of me Miss (y/n)," he said as he batted his eyes at you. Of course, he would also 'reward' ' (cough) you for being such a great nurse. He would endow you with little trophies or trinkets. Sometimes even a piece of jewelry he 'confiscated' from one of these Na'vi savages. According to him at least. Sometimes he has his tail swish a bit more than usual, hitting your backside like a fuzzy whip. You would yelp and turn to catch the culprit, only to find the corporal was long gone. Damn his long legs.

It wasn't like you didn't enjoy his company. Quite the contrary. At times you were even looking forward to his visits and enjoyed your little exchanges... even when he often made lewd or suggestive comments at you. "Are you going to take my temperature? Oh, I already know what you're gonna say. Too hot to handle!" - "I am so glad I got you as my nurse. So tell me, are you usually naughty or nice towards your patients?" - "Hey, I managed to smuggle this in from the botanic garden," you would look at what he had brought you, only to gasp when you saw it being the Pandorian equivalent to cannabis. You quickly shooed him out. "Aww, you're no fun!"

Lyle would tug on your lab coat to get your attention... or that one time when he suddenly 'spotted' a cut on your leg on the day you wore a skirt for the first time. Save to say, this was a mistake on your part. You would dismiss his claims but he remained persistent, so much so, that he boldly leaned forward and have his sizable palm completely wrap around the crook of your lower thigh, startling you with the sudden hot skin-to-skin contact.

"Doc, I think you got a cut there - lemme help you for a change," his cheeks lifted, forcing his eyes to narrow into crescent moons. He thought he was being slick with his ever-more audacious flirting. To the point where he deliberately had his hands latch onto you. "Oh, that doesn't look too good, you got a boo-boo right 'ere, Dr. (y/n)." he cooed with a pouting lip.

"Wha- what are you doing, Wainfleet?" He then teasingly lifted your skirt, inch by inch, saying that he saw the injury somewhere, the rough pads of his fingers skimming up your warm flesh. He seemed so certain of it as well - that was until you smacked your clipboard against his bald head, snapping his attention. "Yeouch!"

Startled he jolted and quickly retracted as you scolded him, your cheeks puffed red with fury. "Get out now, before I have your blue ass escorted out of the medical bay!" After the inappropriate encounter, you dismissed him and you watch him leave your office with slumped shoulders and a low-hanging tail. You didn't see him for two weeks after the 'incident'.

That was until he had returned - this time, however, battered and bruised. Like he'd just survived a sinking Titanic. He was a bit more cordial, less intrusive or cheeky this time around. You would measure his blood pressure, and vitals, clean his wounds, and blood, and stitch a few lacerations before giving him his prescribed pills. Meanwhile, his eyes began to wander a bit. Eventually, they connected with various drawings and sketches hanging on the wall.

"Well I'll be damned, those are pretty good. Did you draw this?" he would genuinely ask, drawing your attention to him, his gaze fixated on the various art studies. You reared your head before giving him a nod, surprised at his sudden interest in your work. "Yes, we often have to learn the inner workings of bodily functions and anatomy. I mostly do it to memorize it better... but also to pass the time," he nodded and stood up, walking over with a certain swagger in his gait. Luckily the ceilings were adjusted to accommodate the sizes of the Avatars, allowing him to stand up straight. "Really impressive," he noted, zooming in on them. You couldn't help but smile brightly at him and strike up a conversation, finding he was not a complete airhead after all.

After a while, you would agree to have him pose as your next anatomy model for your studies. You didn't know how he actually managed to get you to agree. But you couldn't deny him. Maybe you were just being polite... or maybe you cracked when he gave you that look. Those large, yellow puppy dog eyes. In his case, rather, feline eyes.

When you got off work, you both had scheduled a meeting at his dorms. Maybe this was a mistake, you thought to yourself. But then again, you would blush at the thought of having such a tall, athletic man pose for your 'scientific' studies.

Ah, it couldn't be that bad, could it?

Wrong.

When you entered, you spotted a bed placated in the center of the room, duvets and sheets elegantly folded with a few rose petals strewn across the mattress and floor.

Oh hell no. This was a whole misunder- "Well hello there, doc. Didn't think you'd come. Like to show up late for the party, huh?" his deep voice resonated from behind you, eliciting you to nearly jump out of your skin. You spun on your heel as you caught him standing before you, weight resting on one of his legs, hand relaxed on one of his slender hips as merely a towel covered his dignity. He looked cleansed and exuded a certain musk, an aromatic mixture of pine trees, spices, and a subtle hint of expensive cologne. He looked like he had just gotten out of the shower. One brow quirked at your flustered response, prompting that signature smirk to grow on his face. "Wainfleet,.... uh... what is-"

"Oh doll, don't worry 'bout it. I got everything prepared for your study," and with that he would strut over to the bed, hips swaying suggestively before he removed the garment, taking his position as he now sprawled out, elbow propped against the side with his cheeks resting on it, his other arm just scarcely covering his manhood. Not that it mattered since you caught a glimpse of this 'endowment' (which was almost as long as your damn forearm) anyways.

"What? You said you did this before and wanted to do anatomical studies.... so... here I am. Gotta show all of it if you want to do it properly," he insisted as you sucked in a breath, brows scrunched together. You couldn't imagine how you must've looked, with how much blood had rushed to your head, or the twisting cramp inside your stomach, or the clamminess of your palms as you clutched the drawing pad tighter against you. "Jesus, Marine..." you eventually would say, exhaling through your nostrils.

Taking a seat on one of the way too large, recom sized office chairs, you adjusted a few times before getting your pencils ready. "Alright... ready when you are, Lyle," you bit out, accentuating his name with a bit more edge. To your surprise, the corporal approved of your tone as you addressed him by his first name for the first time, his tail flicking excitedly, ears folding forward. He shot you a boyish wink before giving his dry lips a subtle lick, "I'm ready, doc. Have at it."

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countrymusiclover · 3 months

Text

1 - Matching Marks

Part 2

It’s About Time

Tags just ask - @lover-of-books-and-tea @bvbwestfall l @bubble-blu @liesanddreams @bethanymccauley @skeletonontheroad

What defines a Best Friend. A best friend is somebody who is always there. A best friend will do the most stupid and dangerous stuff with you most of the time. A best friend relationship however will make things rather complicated when you start developing feelings for them…for me that was around age 15 -16. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's go back to age 12.

Georgie and I were running around the backyard of his house chasing each other. My parents were out on a date night so I was staying over at his place. We were in middle school during that time. “Y/n, I’m gonna get you.” He called out to me while he was nearly on my heels.

“Yeah right, Cooper - ah ow!” I suddenly tripped on a part of the swingset. I held my wrist seeing some cuts across my right wrist but it didn’t seem dislocated or anything.

Georgie came rushing over to check on me. “Y/n, are you okay?”

“I think I’m gonna be okay. But this is all your fault.” I snapped showing him the scrapes on my wrist that weren't just a little cut.

He slumped his shoulders. “I’m sorry but what do ya want me to do about it?”

“Make me feel better.” I answered him with a snarky remark.

Georgie bites his lip for a second thinking until he saw a somewhat sharp rock on the ground by the swing which was what I had tripped on. He picked it up drawing it across the same wrist as mine doing his best to copy the marks I had. “There now we have the same mark. We are even.”

“Ya know only a real friend would do something like that, Georgie.” I said when he helped me up off the dirt ground looking up into his eyes since he was barely taller than me.

He sent me a cheeky smile, bumping my cut wrist with his own. “We’re best friends. Always have, always will be.”

Laying on the couch in the living room of my house I was on my own until my parents came home from work after getting done with school for the day. Somebody knocked on the front door and I bolted upright knowing who it was. Opening the door, Georgie stood on my front porch. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought you’d be bored and my Meemaw sent me for beer and said she’d tip me in fire crackers. You wanna come with me?” He asked me.

I shake my head grabbing my coat at the same time. “I don’t know. Can’t we get arrested for this?”

“Possibly but only if we get caught and I think I can be pretty convincing.” Georgie didn’t see my worry with it.

Shrugging on my jacket I followed him to his meemaw’s car knowing she trusted me to drive. I was only a few months older than him so she knew I was closer to getting my drivers license then he would be. “Okay, I’ll drive but you go into the store. My parents will have my ass if they find out.” I warned him starting the car and we headed to the store.

We pulled into one of the closests parking spaces since she had handicap plates giving me a view of the cashier woman who looked to be his meemaws age. “If you’re lucky she won’t ask too many questions. I’ll be waiting here.” He shut the car door and went inside. I kept a close eye on the women while he was in the back getting a case of beer that she liked before going to the counter.

Georgie and the cashier were chatting up for a few good seconds then coming out with the case in hand. He came outside putting the bag down on the floorboard looking at me. “I can’t believe my accent worked.”

“You’re what now?” I raised a brow at him.

He looked back at me. “I used an Italian accent.”

“Georgie…” I groaned, hitting my head on the steering wheel where the horn went and the front entrance of the store door flung open with the elderly woman shouting at us.

“Give me back that beer!”

Georgie whipped his head around to me panicking. “Go, go!” I slammed my foot on the gas and spun the steering wheel around until we were out of the parking lot and away from the store. I wasn’t sure how fast I was going or if the cops were on us because I didn’t stop driving until we got back to the Cooper house.

“I can’t believe I just did that.” Sliding down in the driver’s seat to hide from someone’s view.

Georgie chuckled, reaching into the bag taking out one of the beers pointing it in my direction. “You wanna celebrate. I doubt she’ll know it’s missin’.”

“No! We’re only 14.” I raised my voice at him quickly getting out of the car. Going inside the house I covered my ears hearing music blaring through the house and figured it was coming from his sister's room she shared with Sheldon. When their memaw babysat there were no rules.

Sheldon, who was playing cards with his memaw, saw me standing by the kitchen backdoor. “Y/n, are spending the night?”

“I’m not sure. Why do you ask?” I questioned him.

He replied looking back at his cards. “I am just making sure that you won’t mess up my bathroom schedule.”

“I don’t think I will.” I lowered my hands from my ears the second the backdoor opened and Georgie came in carrying the bag.

Memaw turned in her chair across from Sheldon when he handed her the bag. “They give you any trouble?”

“Nah. Oh yeah, change.” Georgie reached inside his pocket holding it out to her.

She held her hand up., handing him some packs of firecrackers. “You keep it. Here you go ... .hey unless you want me to take them back you better give me my missing bottle.” She paused searching through her bag noticing the bottle.

“Fine…” He grumbled hearing me chuckling behind him. “Be quiet Y/n.”

“I told you she’d notice. I tried to warn ya.” Shrugging my shoulders we both walked outside into the backyard.

Georgie lights off the first firecracker throwing it in the grass and it made a loud boom making contact. He hands me the next one nudging my arm. “Give it a go.” I nodded, throwing it up into the air and it hit the grill creating the same boom.

“Wow…Georgie, can I ask you something?” I spun on my feet throwing my hair in my face.

He stands close to me still holding onto the pack of firecrackers in his hands. “What is it, darling?”

“Are we always going to be my best friend? I mean I know we have these marks but does this mean the same to you as it does to me?” Rolling up my jacket sleeve I showed him the familiar cut mark.

Georgie smiled, putting his wrist with the mark up against mine. “We’ll always be friends.” I nodded but I had hoped he would be able to read between the lines someday that I maybe wanted more.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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