#I'll just continue dealing with. discomfort

[wolfsnake]

It's so funny when transphobes start talking as if doctors are giving free and easy transition to anyone who asks for it and even forcing people to transition (why????? Who knows).

Because like. I once tried to bring up to my therapist that I MIGHT POSSIBLY WANT TO EVENTUALLY GET ON T. And her immediate reactions was to tell me that I shouldnt do that that we needed to focus on me liking my own body as it is

[bigwishes]

Matching the Inside

"did I ask about side effects?" "no, but I still think you should hear me out"

Aden sat down to get on Nick's level.

"Listen here lil guy, you are the geeky smart guy, I'm the big guy, I asked you to whip me up something to make me the biggest guy and you said you could, now could you or are you fucking stupid and small?"

"Aden I understand but I still think you want to hear about th-"

"DONT CARE! JUST HAND IT OVER"

Nick sighed and handed over the small vial of green fluid over to Aden.

"Is this all?" Aden grunted.

Aden quickly downed the entire vial and flexed his muscles

"So when does this shit make me bigger?"

"s-soon Aden, just gotta wait a few ho-"

"WOULD YOU JUST FUCK OFF PIPSQUEAK!, if this shit fails I swear to god I'll be the fuck outta you then get my cash back"

Nick quickly left Aden to his own devices, he wasn't the best guy to get along with at the best of times and he didn't want to see how toxic Aden was going to become after an hour or so, but it was on him for not wanting to listen to the warnings...

-----

An hour of hard work had gone by and Aden had barely felt anything, sure he had a nasty pump and his skin felt like it was stretching by the second but nothing more than an unusually good day at the gym, however he did find one thing strange.

Aden was no stranger to sweat, but not normally this much, he was used to seeing his ass imprint when he stood up from the bench but not feeling it running down his body, not feeling it squelch in his shoes as he walked.

One of the gym attendants even asked him to please change his shoes as it was leaving huge sweaty imprints as he walked.

Aden sat down on a bench to catch his breath when he smelt something unbearable, it had to be a gym towel that had fallen behind a piece of equipment and left to reek for god knows how long. As Aden looked around for the source he couldn't find anything but when he lifted his arm he was hit by a wave of warm air that made him turn his nose up

the potent order was coming from him, and boy did he fucking reek.

Aden almost gagged on the stench of his own pits and stood up to grab his stuff to head home.

As he stood up his stomach let out a loud gurgling noise. It set in again, this time stronger and painful. Aden grabbed his stomach with both his hands and moaned and his gut continued to complain.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPP

Aden let out a loud belch that rung out through the entire gym.

"wow, eat too much before the gym big guy haha"

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

Aden couldn't control it, before he could even respond he had let rip and belched in the guys face.

Multiple people started to call him a gross pig, and he was in too much discomfort to argue, he could barely get a word in before he burped or belched like a stupid brute.

On his way out he stopped at the mirror, his shoulders looked wider, his biceps fuller, his pecs were stretching out his tank like it was nothing, he couldn't help but admire himself, but the admiration quickly faded when his body automatically cocked open his jaw and forcefully rumbled out another masculine belch.

---

Aden had raced home, doing his best to deal with the horrible stench flowing from his body he imminently got in the shower, scrubbing himself for over and hour until there was no trace of BO left on him,

getting out of the shower he constantly sniffed his pits to make sure he smelt clean and fresh, the stench had seemed to vanish and the odd bloating all but gone, now it was time to see if the formula did anything or if he was going to crush Nick's spine with his own hands.

Aden slipped on his favourite pair of underwear and stood in front of his mirror, to his surprise he did actually look bigger, although barely, he had maybe gained a pound or two of muscle, but something looked wrong....

As Aden glanced down his incredible body he noticed his underwear was much flatter than usual, he tried to adjust himself but it felt like there was barely anything to adjust. As he pulled back the waist band he was horrified to see that his incredibly 10inch manhood and shrunken down into a pitiful 3 inches

"w-WHAT THE FUCK" Aden began to panic, his heart racing

Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead and run down his face. As Aden paced around his room he didnt notice all the sweat forming all over his body, that was until the smell set in, when he finally saw himself in the mirror again he was slick from head to toe, droplets of sweat running down him and he stuck, a stench like he had just spent a month working out non stop.

His gut began to grumble once more as the pain set it, this time more intense, like his stomach was being inflated from the inside. Aden moaned and gritted his teeth in pain.

"w..w...what is...happening..tOO MEEE AAGGGHHHUUUUUUU"

Aden watched as his abs turned red and began to expand outwards.

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPP

Aden couldn't help but belch, but it granted him no relief, he watched helplessly as his reflection expanded and grew, sweat dripping off him flooding his floor with a pool of musk and belches escaping him every time he opened his mouth to moan or complain.

-----

A week had gone by since Aden's strange and powerful growth but a lot had changed since then.

In a week he had been banned from almost every gym in town, banned from every restaurant, his car seats had changed colour from the sweat along with every piece of fabric or furniture he owned, on top of which most had broken in some way shape or form.

He couldn't even go to any out door cafe's as he was asked to leave because his terrible BO and constant belches upset the other customers.

Aden had all but ruined his life for muscle and size, still he couldnt help but feel mostly joy when he looked in the mirror, the way his shoulders and traps swallowed his neck, how he couldn't see past his pecs. How only after a week his powerful muscled feet would tear through his shoes. He loved being huge, but he didn't love the side effects.

The belching and stench he had gotten used to but the biggest shock to his system was the hardon he got for guys now, he used to be such a ladies man but now he felt nothing towards women and almost instantly came whenever he saw another bodybuilder flex, but even that he was willing to embrace so long as he could stay this big.

Aden stood in front of his mirror and watched as grey tank slowly turn black as it soaked up his sweat. He picked up a blender from the belch filled with his freshly made shake, he began to guzzle it down like he hadn't eaten in days, the shake spilled out from the sides of his lips, dripped through his beard and onto his tank were it quickly formed prominent stains and marks.

Aden dropped the blender panting for air.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP

His eyes glazed over as he looked at the sweating monster in the mirror. He couldn't help but notice the freak he had become,

grown too big, stretch marks all over his body, sweat and protein staining his clothes, BO so bad he could see it, and one hand pressed on his abs trying to force out another belch.

He finally matched what was on the inside

A total fuckin slob

[bat-mom-writer]

Not Just A Mother

Reader(wife) X Bruce Wayne(husband)

Summery: You married Bruce Wayne, not out of love, but because Bruce wanted a mother figure for his sons. But what happens when Bruce starts showing a more caring side?

Want a more angst and spicy arranged married come together? Check out Closet Confession.

(I do NOT own any DC characters)

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

"Tim, did you finish your homework?" You called out, your footsteps echoing through the grand hallways of Wayne Manor as you made your way to your non biological son's room.

"I'll get it later," Tim's voice drifted back, a hint of procrastination in his tone.

"Not a chance, young man," you responded firmly, your heels clicking against the marble floor. "You know the rules. No gadgets or superhero shenanigans until your schoolwork is done. So get off the computer."

Tim sighed heavily, his eyes never leaving his computer. "Ten more minutes," he protested, his fingers typing away at lightning speed.

You signed but said nothing more upon stopping at the open door of Tim's room. You knew Bruce didn't appreciate you interference in nightly heroics, but you had your own way of managing the boys. Just as you was about to remind Tim of the consequences, a deep voice resonated from behind you.

"Listen to your mother, Tim."

You spun around to face Bruce, who had emerged from the shadows of the hallway. His gaze was stern but not unkind, the same look he often gave when you discussed the boys' schooling. You felt a small twinge of relief that he wasn't upset with your intervention.

Tim looked up from his computer, his eyes wide with surprise. He had never heard Bruce call you "mother" before. It was always Mrs. Wayne or by your name. The change in tone was subtle but significant, hinting at a shift in their relationship that none of them had anticipated.

Your cheeks flush under Bruce's eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You noticed the warmth in his smile and the way he held your gaze for a beat too long. You felt a strange mix of comfort and discomfort, the kind that comes with the sudden realization that the ground beneath you is not as solid as it once seemed.

Bruce gave a curt nod before turning to leave. His footsteps grew quieter as he moved away, the sound of his retreating figure leaving an unsettling silence in its wake. Your mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle of his behavior. Was it the stress of their sham marriage finally getting to him? Or perhaps a genuine affection that had been buried beneath layers of duty and obligation?

Over the next few days, Bruce continued to act more affectionate towards you, slipping in gentle touches and kind words where there had once been a stoic distance. You felt torn between acknowledging the change and fearing it was just a temporary shift in mood. After all, their marriage was built on a foundation of convenience, not love. You're there to provide a stable home life for his sons, not to be the object of his affection.

One evening, as Bruce sat in his study, you gathered your courage and approached him, clutching a set of documents in your hands. "I need to talk to you about something," you began, your voice tentative. "It's about a new deal that's been offered to the company."

Bruce looked up from his paperwork, his eyes reflecting the glow of the computer screens. "What is it?" he asked, his tone neutral.

"It's about a new acquisition," you said, looking down at the papers. "The board thinks it's a good opportunity."

Bruce took the papers from you, his hands brushing against yours for a moment longer than necessary. You felt a spark of electricity, and you quickly withdrew your hand, hoping he hadn't noticed. You watched as he skimmed through the pages, his brow furrowing slightly as he digested the information.

"What's your take on it?" he asked, his gaze still on the contract.

"I...I don't know if it's my...my place to say, Mr. Wayne" You stuttered, your heart racing. You had never been one to voice your opinions in matters like this.

Bruce's gaze lifted from the documents, his eyes locking with your. "Your opinion is important to me," he said firmly. "We're partners in this, remember?"

The words hung in the air, thick with an unspoken promise. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Well," you began, your voice stronger now, "I think it's....sketchy. There's something about the terms that doesn't sit right with me."

Bruce's eyes never left yours as he listened intently. His thumb traced the edge of the paper, the only sign of his contemplation. "Then tell them I'm not interested," he said abruptly, handing the contract back to you.

Your eyes widened in shock. You had expected him to disagree, to argue the merits of the deal and the importance of the board's suggestions. Instead, he had deferred to your judgment, something he had never done before. "Are you sure?" you asked.

"Absolutely," Bruce said, his voice firm. "If it doesn't feel right, then it's not worth pursuing."

You took the contract, your hand trembling slightly. "But the board…" your trailed off, unsure how to voice your concerns without overstepping your boundaries.

Bruce leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "The board's job is to make suggestions," he said. "My job is to make decisions. And if my… wife," he emphasized the word, "thinks something's off, then I trust her judgment."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. It was the first time he had ever called you his wife without it sounding like a mere formality. You held the contract, your mind racing. "Thank you," you murmured. "I'll handle it."

Bruce nodded, his gaze lingering on yours. "You're welcome."

You retreated from the study, your thoughts in a whirlwind. The weight of the contract in your hands felt heavier than ever before. As you walked, the echoes of their conversation seemed to follow you, whispering of a newfound partnership and trust. You paused outside your study, taking a moment to collect yourself before returning to work. The manor felt different, as if the very air had shifted to accommodate a burgeoning emotion you hadn't anticipated.

Over the next few weeks, Bruce's affection grew more pronounced. He would join you for dinner, engaging in conversations that delved beyond the superficial. They discussed books, art, and the future of Gotham, sharing smiles and laughter that felt genuine and unforced. You found yourself looking forward to these moments, the tension in the air charged with something you dared not name.

One evening, after the boys had retired to their rooms, Bruce found you in the dimly lit Batcave, your eyes reflecting the glow of the monitors as you reviewed the night's intel. He approached you slowly, his footsteps muffled by the rubber soles of his boots. "I thought I was the night owl around here," he said with a teasing smile.

You startled, spinning around in the chair. "Mr. Wayne," you gasped, hand flying to your chest. "I didn't hear you come in."

Bruce chuckled, the sound echoing through the cavernous space. "It's Bruce," he corrected gently. "And I can see you've got everything under control."

Your cheeks colored as you nodded. "Just keeping an eye on things," you said, your voice quieter than usual. You felt self-conscious under his scrutiny, unsure how to react to his sudden interest in your nightly routine.

"Mind if I join you?" Bruce asked, his tone casual, yet it held a hint of something more.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Of course," you said, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. You watched as he made his way over to you, his movements fluid and silent. He leaned against the console, his eyes on the screens, but you knew he was really watching you.

"You know, this isn't where I expected to find you on our anniversary," he said, his voice low and warm.

Your breath caught in your throat. You had almost forgotten about the date, lost in the whirlwind of their new dynamic. Your swiveled the chair to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Anniversary?" you echoed, trying to keep your voice even.

Bruce nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, it's been a year since we made this… arrangement." He paused, searching for the right word, and you felt the weight of the unspoken truth hanging in the air.

"I… I had no idea at how quickly the year went by," you murmured, your eyes flicking to the floor before meeting his gaze again. "So much has happened."

"Yes, it has," Bruce agreed, his expression softening. "But I think we've made it work, don't you?"

You nodded slowly, your eyes moving to the side of the floor. "We have," you conceded. "For the boys."

"For the boys," Bruce echoed, but there was a hint of something more in his voice. He reached out and took your hand, his touch sending a jolt through you. "Dance with me."

You looked at him, bewildered. The Batcave was the last place you'd would have ever imagined sharing a dance with your husband, especially considering their relationship had been more of a business transaction than a romantic union.

"What?" you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and doubt. The cold metal and concrete walls of the Batcave didn't exactly scream romance.

But Bruce didn't seem to notice the oddness of his request. He held out his other hand, his eyes earnest. "Just one dance."

Your heart racing, placing your hand in his, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He led you to the center of the Batcave, the place where so much strategy and planning took place. But now, it was just them, standing in the shadow of the Dark Knight's armor, the only music the hum of the computers and the distant echo of the city above.

He pulled you closer, his hand on your back while the other held your other hand. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, a stark contrast to the cool air of the underground lair. He was close enough that you could make out the scent of his cologne, the faint metallic scent of his suit mingling with it.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Let's pretend, just for a moment, that we're not Mr. Wayne and Mrs. Wayne, but a couple who met under different circumstances."

Your pulse quickened. You knew the rules of your arrangement, knew that love had never been a part of the deal. Yet here you were, in the most unlikely of settings, with the potential for something you had never allowed yourself to imagine. Hesitating for only a moment, you stepped into the embrace, your body fitting against his as if it had always belonged there.

He began to sway gently, guiding you in a slow, rhythmic dance that seemed to defy the gravity of their situation. His hand rested on the small of your back, his other hand holding hers firmly, yet gently. You felt the muscles beneath the fabric of his suit, the strength and power of the man you had only ever known as your husband in name.

The sound of his deep, rich hum filled the cavernous space, a tune you didn't recognize but found oddly soothing. It was a moment of vulnerability you had never seen from him before, a side of Bruce Wayne that was as unguarded as the batcave was protected. As they danced, your head leaned into his chest, the steady beat of his heart echoing in your ears, mimicking the tempo of your own.

The tension between them grew palpable, a silent crescendo that seemed to vibrate in every atom of the room. You felt yout resolve wavering, the walls you had meticulously built to maintain the façade of your marriage threatening to crumble. You knew the truth – that you had developed feelings for him, feelings that had grown from a seed of respect and duty into a full-blown bouquet of love and longing.

"Bruce," you murmured, your voice shaky. "What are we doing?"

He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. "I'm just… trying to be a better husband to you."

The admission sent a tremor through you, and you pulled away slightly to look up at him. His eyes searched yours, a question and a plea melded into one. Your chest tightened as you read the hope and uncertainty in his gaze.

"Why?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "What changed?"

Bruce's expression grew serious, his eyes holding yours captive. "I've realized that life is too short to ignore what's right in front of us," he replied, his thumb brushing gently against the back of your hand. "I've watched you care for my sons, for this city, and for me. You've become more than just a part of this arrangement. You've become a part…of me."

The words hung in the air, a confession that resonated through the very foundation of the Batcave. You searched his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt, any hint that he was just playing a part. But what you found was a vulnerability you had never seen before, a crack in the armor of the man who was both Bruce Wayne and Batman. You were speechless, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

Leaning closer, his cheek brushed against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. His mouth hovered near your ear, the heat of his breath sending a rush of emotion through yours. "Please," he whispered, "give me a chance."

Your heart was a tumult of emotions – hope, fear, confusion. But you knew that you couldn't ignore the feelings that had been growing within you for so long. You nodded, the barest of movements, but it was enough.

Bruce's hand slid to your cheek, cupping it gently as he leaned in and kissed you. It was a soft kiss, filled with a year's worth of unspoken emotions. You melted into it, your arms slipping around his neck as you gave in to the warmth that had been building between them. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, and you could feel the tension in his body, the years of holding back finally released.

You broke apart, breathing in quite pants, your eyes locked. Your heart raced, your mind reeling with the implications of what was happening. "Bruce," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"My wife," Bruce said, the words sounding unfamiliar, yet right. He searched your face, his thumb stroking your cheek gently. "You are my wife. I want to act like the husband I know you truly deserve."

"What about the boys?" You asked, your voice a soft murmur.

"They're our priority," Bruce assured you, his hand sliding from your cheek to your hand again. "We just now have… some extra perks to our partnership." He offered you a tentative smile, and you couldn't help but return it, feeling the weight of your situation lighten just a little.

For a moment, you two just stood there, holding onto each other, the reality of your feelings finally out in the open. The silence was comfortable, filled with the steady rhythm of your breaths mingling together.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

PINNED POST, FAQ, INFORMATION

Hi, I'm TBSkyen. I make videos on YouTube sometimes. This is my main tumblr blog, the "brand" blog as it were, where I maintain my Social Media Presence™ on this site.

I use the ironic ™ to signal my personal discomfort with the work of being a minor media personality even while I still do that work and make a living off it.

I have a sideblog called @tbposting, mostly for shitposts and reblogs, and in my opinion I have pretty darn good taste in reblogs, so you can follow that if you want. It's also where I'll do random personal posting, microblogging, etc.

This main blog is primarily for 1) answering asks, and 2) posting my Original Content™, usually my main channel videos, as well as the occasional longer essay or critique. Sometimes I'll reblog an interesting or useful thing, or boost a friend's work, but I try to keep the spam to a minimum.

---

About Me

I am a thirtysomething content creator whose primary expertise is character design.

I have a bachelor's degree in English, never finished my master's, did most of a bachelor's degree in history, and that's it. These are my academic qualifications, no more and no less.

My professional experience is primarily being a freelancer and self-employed creator. I spent the better part of a decade working as a commission artist, running webcomics, drawing fanart, and the occasional animation work and not safe for work commissions, and I have at this point a decade of experience and self-study in the subjects I cover. I have also done online community management for, god help me, almost twenty years, so that's a part of my skillset I'll never escape.

I do not have any particular professional creative industry experience, although given what I hear from my professional friends, sometimes that seems like a blessing.

Please maintain a critical distance when engaging with my work. I am a critic. My work is very rarely meant to be taken as authoritative or didactic, and when it is, I will make it clear in my writing. Just because I speak with confidence doesn't mean I am trying to assert objective truth.

---

TAGS (to follow, or filter)

#tbanswers is the tag for every single ask I answer on this blog

#tb reblog is the tag for reblogs

#tb essay is for the occasional longer essay or critical writing

#tbvideos is for my videos and Content™

#tb recommends is for the occasional recommendation of a video essay or other creator

Yes, I know the spaces are inconsistent. It's not on purpose, I just typed them in haphazardly when I started using them and it's stuck.

---

FAQ (before you ask)

Q: Will you ever do a video about ____ ? A: The answer to this question is almost universally "maybe someday, if I have time, and if I feel I have anything worthwhile to say." And the more realistic answer is "no, because I already have far too much on my plate and I have burned myself out too many times." In general, please don't ask me this question, I will most likely not answer it because I have given the same answer a thousand times, but I still feel guilty about not answering them.

Q: Will you continue your series of videos about ____ ? A: Yes! I will continue the let's plays I started, I will finish the Boss Designs series, I will do another What's the Deal With, I will do more shorts about the subjects I've got going on. The main obstacle is, again, my tendency to overload myself.

Q: Do you have a PO box? Can I send you something? A: Not yet, but I'm looking into it. It may be a while before I get it set up.

Q: Do you have merchandise? A: A little bit, yes, at tbskyen.redbubble.com.

Q: What's your opinion on [game/movie/comic/book/etc]? A: I struggle to answer very open, broad questions like this. Most things I have opinions about, I have multiple opinions, and different ones depending on the perspective and specific element in question. I'm much more likely to answer specific, bounded questions.

Q: Can I send you fanart? A: PLEASE. Askbox, tag me on bluesky, send it to my email! I love seeing every piece of it!

Q: Why do you never appear on camera? A: A forest witch cursed me to look not quite but ALMOST like Paul Giamatti in all photos and videos ever taken of me, and his laywers sent me a cease-and-desist.

Q: Are you gay/straight/bi/other? A: The decision I've made for myself, at least for this period of my life, is that privacy is precious, and once given up can never be reclaimed on the internet. I am open about being aromantic (not asexual), because it's a sometimes invisible and underdiscussed identity, and I know it would have helped me a lot to see someone speak about it when I was younger.

The rest of it is for me to know, and for you to speculate about, although preferably somewhere I can't see it. I accept that this is a part of being a Personality, but it still feels weird, y'know?

Q: Is it weird if I find your voice kinda hot? A: I've put a lot of work into developing this voice and making it nice to listen to, so that's not weird at all and I find it quite complimentary, thank you.

I generally don't mind people doing flirty/thirsty posting about or at me, just so long as we all understand that 1) you should never give a stranger like me information which could be used to harm you. Nicer-seeming YouTubers than me have turned out to be monsters.

And 2) it will never go beyond playful online flirtiness. I like to fluster my live chat, I'll flirt back in an ask or a post maybe, but I am not flirting with you, or inviting any kind of closer intimacy with you, the person I responded to.

Think of me like a comedian doing crowd-work at a show - you can chat to me in the bar after the show, but when I asked you what you do for work I wasn't looking for a personal connection, I was doing my work as an entertainer. Please no sending me nudes, or propositions, or confession letters in my email inbox. We are strangers, and I am always performing a persona in public.

[yanderehsr]

Yandere Lyney, Zhongli, Dottore ((why not)) Neuvillette and Tighnari bring up the idea one day that they want a baby but darling dislikes children so she keeps changing the subject or ignoring the idea all together completely shutting that thought down plus the very idea of it makes her stomach cringe having a baby with them

I have a good idea which 4 I'll pick here, Hope you'll enjoy😄

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping, Suggestive in all of them, proceed at your own risk

Zhongli: You can't tell me this guy doesn't want children with you at all costs, so when you change subject and reject the idea, it honestly hurts him a bit, did you not want to have children with him, isn't he good enough. He can't deal with that, he is going to have a child with you no matter what you say.

All Zhongli needs is to slip you some nice sleeping aids, and he'll whisk you away to somewhere so far removed from society that only he knows about it, you have only yourself to blame here, if you hadn't rejected him then this wouldn't be happening at all, you will wake up sore with Zhongli cuddling you, you have no idea where you are and you feel strange, weird huh.

"This wouldn't be happening if you just accepted it from the very beginning. I am sure you'll be a great mother"

Dottore: Let's be honest here, this freak doesn't do this because he has a kink or because he genuinely wants a family, these children serve two reasons. One, they will bind you to him, it's something of a possessive bond. Two, they are experiments plain and simple.

Dottore also finds a bonus in all of this, he can use children to threaten you to be compliant, he doesn't care about your refusals or your discomfort, he just wants to pump a baby into you so it's easier to get you to obey. He doesn't even hide it and that's what is scariest.

"Wake up, I have confirmed that it worked this time... why are you crying, aren't you happy to have a child? No matter, you are having it whether you want to or not"

Neuvillette: He has brought it up to you so many times and each time you either change subject or completely shut the idea down, it's honestly starting to get to him a little, shouldn't the ultimate goal of any female be to have a child, that is atleast what he understood from other humans.

Neuvillette isn't someone who would force you to have a child, that would go against his morals, or the little morals he has left after kidnapping you, you can at the very least be happy he isn't someone who would force this, he will continue asking tho, hoping that one day you will say yes.

"I just wanted to bring up the subject of potential future childre-... Oh, ok, I understand, could you tell me how your day has been at the very least"

Tighnari: Fennec foxes mates for life, meaning they only get together with one person ever, and that so happens with you, Tighnari does want children but wont force anything if you don't want it, that is until he enters his heat.

Tighnari before a heat will force you away from him, but this time he forgot, and you happened to walk in on him during the heat, he would catch you quickly to have his way with you, he can't really control what he's doing here, but when he goes back to normal he finds himself happy instead, he is sure you'll make a great mother.

"Well there's nothing we can do now about it... you don't need to be so sad about it, I'll be with you every step of the way, MY mate"

[eclipsedechoesofmywords]

kaz brekker x reader where reader is hurt and kaz helps tend to her wound and then he tells her how much he loves her and it’s soft and super fluffy

"Comfort in Chaos"

[Kaz Brekker x fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: After a reckless adventure leaves you injured, Kaz Brekker takes a moment to care for you.

Warnings: injury, fluff, not proofread

Word Count: 580 words

A/N: hi!!! so the reason this took so long was because I was trying to figure out how to write it and still stay true to Kaz's character. I tried my best, so enjoy?

You shifted and winced as the wound pulled. Kaz sat across from you, a concentrated look on his face as he gathered supplies from a small box.

"Stay still," he instructed, his voice low but steady.

You nodded, biting your lip to suppress a wince as he carefully cleaned the injury.

"Why do you always get into trouble?" he murmured, more to himself than to you.

"Maybe I like the thrill," you teased, trying to lighten the mood despite the discomfort.

His eyes remained serious. "The thrill doesn’t feel as great when you’re bleeding," he replied, applying the ointment. His touch was surprisingly gentle, as he wrapped the bandage around your arm.

As he worked, silence settled between you. The way he looked at you made your heart race.

"Kaz…" you started, but he hesitated seeing a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. First time for everything.

"I dislike seeing you hurt. You mean more to me than I can say," he said, his voice softening.

You smiled. "I care about you too," you confessed.

Kaz finished wrapping the bandage, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary.

Maybe I should start taking care of myself better," you suggested, "I wouldn’t want to keep you from your… important plans."

He scoffed. "Plans can wait. You’re more important than any job I have." his tone was dismissive, but his words were sincere.

"What if I got better at dodging trouble? Would that impress you?"

The corner of his mouth twitched upward. "You’d have to do better than that. You’re too reckless for your own good."

"Kaz, I know what I’m doing. I wouldn’t put myself in danger if I didn’t think I could handle it."

"Right. And yet, here we are," he replied, "Just promise me you’ll try to be more cautious. You are an investment that is difficult to replace."

You snort. "Gee, thanks."

"You’re infuriating, you know that?," he sighed, "But you’re also brave. You challenge me in ways I didn’t think were possible."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Good. You should," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because it’s the closest I’ll get to admitting I’m fond of you."

You laughed, the sound light and joyful, as Kaz tried to hide his smirk.

"Then I guess we’ll both have to work on being less infuriating," you teased.

"Or we’ll continue to drive each other mad," he said

"Either way, I’m glad you’re here." You leaned closer, the warmth radiating between you almost palpable.

Kaz’s gaze held yours. "You really mean that, don’t you?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine.

"Absolutely," you replied, "You make everything—"

"Dangerous?" he interrupted.

"Exciting," you corrected, "Every moment with you feels alive."

He tilted his head, studying you intently. "Alive is one way to put it. Other people might call it reckless."

"Recklessness has its charm," you countered, "Besides, you thrive in chaos. I think you secretly enjoy it."

"Do I?"

"You love it. And me," you said, grinning.

"Love is a strong word."

"Is it?" you shot back.

Kaz raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I just tolerate you because you're entertaining."

"Entertaining, huh? I’ll take it," you replied.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "You’re incorrigible."

"And you’re impossible," you shot back, "But that’s what makes us work."

"Just promise me you’ll be careful," he said, his tone suddenly serious.

"Only if you promise to keep looking out for me."

"Deal," he replied.

You both shared a moment of silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Finally, you broke it, teasing, "So, when are we getting into trouble next?"

"With you? I can’t imagine it’ll be long."

[thepenandthepistol]

Mundane Aching (Platonic!Grian x reader)

Due to some soreness, you're unable to help Gem like you said you would. Grian helps you out and soothes some of your worries.

A/N : Sickfic I wrote because my period was killing me T-T and also the first thing I've actually posted on this account! A win for the slayers of perfectionism. This was meant as a platonic fic but I'm sure you could read it as romantic if you want. Also, reader is an avian as well. (1018 words)

Art by @applestruda and divider by @saradika-graphics

There's still so much to be done, and here you are, still under the sheets. You spent the first half of the day trying to manage a creeping pain in your back right where skin meets the base of your coal-black wings. Ache spreads in waves from the limb and into your vertebra, as if something alive is puppeteering the sinews under your skin.

Despite the guilt, you've resigned yourself to your bed; due to an enormous nap, you missed your afternoon plans with Gem. Being an avian means you were much more used to flying than she was, and the new nether build she was planning required some tight maneuvering. Days like these are some you look forward to, holding onto the back of her chestplate, hovering over lava lakes and bastions. 

The trust she has in you, feeling safe even if dangling over potential death, is special in its own right. The friendship you've cultivated and the idle conversations had midair are among your most treasured memories. So, when the exhaustion from carrying materials to and from your shop finally made itself known, you groaned as you curled up on your bed, trying to push away the pain and at least pass by Gem's to apologize for your absence. Maybe sweeten the deal with a nice cake and evening tea.

A sudden flash of crimson outside your window makes you stop in your tracks, feet just inches from touching the cool floor. A single moment of silence is had before Grian pulls himself back up onto the windowsill with a mischievous smile. 

"Did I scare you?" He asks, shuffling inside and closing the window behind him with a soft click.

"Oh yeah," you start, closing your eyes and breathing deeply as a particularly sharp stab rolls from your back and claws at your ribs. "Only if being worried you were going to cut your wings on the bars outside counts as scared." 

"Excuse me, I'm very skilled! I could probably dodge like five of those in a row." He speaks with a smile, but, to your dismay, he's seen through your teasing and into the discomfort below. 

"Gem's been looking for you," he says, aligning some of the trinkets on your shelf and picking your work clothes off the floor. "Sent me here to check while she continued working." 

"Shit," you sigh and drape your arm over your eyes, blocking the light crawling in from outside. "I'm having a bad day, I guess. Must've overworked myself last week, and now my wings are killing me."

"Have you had something to eat?" You hear your closet door creek open and Grian looking for something between clothes and towels.

"Not exactly. I had a snack before midday, but I slept through lunch." You open your eyes to see him bring a nice blanket over your shoulders. It doesn't ease the pain, but the soft texture makes existing a little easier.

"Well, just about time for some tea then." You grimace, remembering your promise to Gem. Grian moves to close the room door behind him when you groan out a protest, wrapping the woolen quilt around yourself and finally standing up.

"I'll join you. If I lay here any longer, I'll sleep the entire day away," Grian snickers, but walks in sync with your lethargic steps down the stairs and into a quaint kitchen. 

Plopping down on a stool, you watch Grian clack on the stove and place a ceramic kettle on top. It was a birthday gift from Ren. A painted flock of dark birds contrasts the white background alongside some fleuron details. 

"Grian, mate, it's you," you point to a particularly wonky bird.

"Absolutely not, look at him! He's your splitting image." He gestures to the dark wings behind you. 

"You know what else is splitting?"

"Your head?"

"My head."

You rest your temple on the wooden table and furrow your eyebrows. You could probably make the journey over to Gem's by now; despite the headache and muscle cramps, you're feeling well enough to stand, and you could chance flying the short way over. 

With a crack, you stretch your wings entirely; they spasm a bit before reaching their full length; you pay no mind. What was once a terrible tendon-deep flare has resided to a burning soreness; you've done more than travel a couple hundred blocks in worse conditions. 

Grian pours the water into two mugs, each with a homemade teabag flopping loosely off the side. You take the smaller mug, lifting it to say 'cheers,' and sip on the sweet berry. You begin putting on your boots when Grian finally lets concern wash over his face.

"You should rest a bit more. Gem's fine. Her garden's turning out really nice." You hesitate a tad bit before tying the laces together.

"I promised her I'd help you know. I'm sure she understands, but I want to make good on my word." You don't register Grian setting down his mug and tilt your head in confusion as he kneels and pulls your boots to his thigh, unlacing them.

"You sound like a knight going to war," he cracks a tiny fond smile. "I know it's your nature, but these things aren't that serious. Your 'word' is still good even if you don't put your own health on the line." Silence follows.

"You're sure she doesn't need me?"

"Positively." He stalks off to line your shoes up by the door and then returns, sitting next to you on the couch and letting his wing curl around you.

"You need to relax. No wonder you're having a bad time when your muscles are that tense." He teases, and you scoff, taking back the mug and continuing to drink.

"Can you tell Gem I won't be making it then, please." 

"Yeah, course," he says, knocking his shoulder with yours and hopping to his feet. 

"I should tie a letter to your leg and throw you out of the second-story window." You say into the mug as he turns the knob on the front door.

"Hey! I am not a pigeon!"

[webshooterrr9]

Take Care

Act Two Astarion x gn!reader

just fluff and angst if you squint, no smut

Sigh. "You don't have to do this, darling. I'm not some sort of child in need of coddling."

Despite his standoffish tone, Astarion makes no attempt to move away as you tend to the cuts on his arm. It had been a long day of adventuring, and your party most unfortunately ran into a horde of goblins on your way back to camp for the knight. Being stronger after a recent feed, Astarion fought most of them - giving him the most injuries.

You're being far too gentle. He watches closely in the dim lantern light as you wet the rag for cleaning. A part of him wishes you'd just hurt him instead. He knows how to deal with pain. He doesn't know how to deal with this.

Whatever this is, his mind tells him it needs to stop. Stop before he starts to care. He doesn't want to care about you. If he does, you'll be another thing for Cazador to use against him when the time comes.

He can't have that.

"Oh, shut up." you wave a dismissive hand before resuming your cleaning, gently wiping away the dirt and grime from his wounds. You sat comfortably in his lap as you worked. Another form of intimacy he was unsure about.

"I've received worse and lived, love. I'll be alright without your babying."

He would never admit it, but Astarion almost... enjoyed the way you so carefully tended to him. But it felt wrong. Why would you do this? It wasn't like his life was on the line, the goblins only inflicted minor injuries.

"I know you have, I've seen the poem that... he carved into your back. You showed me, remember?"

Astarion winces at the memory, and you feel sort of bad for bringing it up. But he just rolls his eyes, covering up the discomfort with a scoff.

That wretched devil. That evil, evil man.

"We're still travel companions, so I want to help you. Regardless of how minor it is." you continue, speaking slowly as you bandage up the cuts.

"Because I'm incapable?" there's a bite to his voice, one that he didn't mean to be there. But he couldn't help it. This was so... odd. "I managed to take care of myself just fine before you came along."

You look up at him, almost with a glare at his accusation. "I never said you were incapable, 'Starion. But you have to let others help you once in a while."

Gods, he hated it. He hated how caring you were, how sweetly you spoke to him, even when he was rude. How fondly you pictured him in your mind, even when he had done nothing but manipulate you so far.

How could you he so naive? He was obviously using you. And yet, you seemed to care about him, which pissed him off more.

He doesn't deserve someone as tender as you. As kind and caring.

Astarions grits his teeth as he speaks. "I don't have to let you do anything. I don't deserve that."

Why did he say that? How stupid of him so seem so vulnerable around you. And why does he want to curl up against you and let it all out? Why does he want you to wrap him up in your arms and whisper into his hair and tell him everything is going to be okay?

What is wrong with him?

You wrap up his cut tightly, giving him a glare. "You're wrong." you replied, short and direct. Your stare made it clear that this wasn't up for debate.

"You deserve just as much as everyone else. If not more, given what you've been through."

Astarion glares right back. If there was one thing he could do, it was argue. "You know nothing about me. I barely even told you half of it."

You don't know why he has to be so stubborn about this. Maybe it's his nature. Or maybe he's just too much of a coward to admit that he's actually starting to develop feelings for you. Astarion doesn't know which.

"I'm objectively the worst person on this team. You should be helping the others. Lae'zel got all scratched up too, you know."

"They've got each other." you argue back, just as stubborn as the elf. "But you, you've closed yourself off from everyone. Shut them out."

"If I don't take care of you, no one will. The Hells know that you wouldn't take care of yourself, either. You're too self-loathing for that."

When the hell did you become so perceptive? How in the world did you come to that conclusion? He wasn't self hating, he was just telling the truth. He was awful, evil. He knew it to be true.

...

Shit. Maybe you were right.

"Fine. Maybe your words have some truth in them." he sighs, not daring to look you in the eyes as he admits it. "You're right. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Damn it. Now he wants to hug you. The feeling he's been trying to avoid the entire time is bubbling up, threatening to engulf him.

Does it make him weak to want to be coddled and comforted by you? Would it make him just as pathetic as he was under Cazador's thumb? Would allowing himself this pampering, this affection, be nothing more than something to regret?

"I'm always right." you scoff. "You'd have picked up on that by now if you weren't so aloof."

You slide off of his lap once you're done bandaging, giving him some space. But you don't leave his tent.

You stay there, sitting in front of him, as a silent show of solidarity. "I'm not going anywhere. No matter how much you try to push me away."

The urge to pull you close and never let you go is overwhelming him. Astarion's not sure if he can trust himself to resist it.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks quietly, lowering his head a bit shamefully. "Why are you so insistent on helping me? I'm not worth it."

"Because you are worth it. And I won't stop until you believe it."

"I will not allow you to fall into tragedy when you can be so much more than that. I've seen your potential - on the battlefield and in camp. I refuse to let you waste your life in solitude."

Astarion wants to believe you. Desperately.

The evidence is staring him right in the face: the way that you care for him, how he feels secure in your presence.

But if he believes you, he can't hide any longer. He can't seek shelter behind the walls he's carefully erected within himself. And he can't shield himself from the vulnerability of admitting that he needs you. So instead he just says:

"Shut up."

You sigh. No matter how much you try to break him down, he stays persistent. "Fine."

"I'll stop talking, but you'd be a fool if you think I'm leaving."

He scoffs. "So what, you're just going to sit there and watch me all night?"

"If that's all you'll allow me, yes."

Allow. Such a sacred, unheard word to him.

Astarion didn't even have a response to that. In the end, he didn't have enough energy to make a snarky counter. And before he can form a coherent sentence and protest, his body makes a decision for him.

The elf slumps forward and places his head in your lap, curling up in a way that resembles a kitten. A stray seeking shelter.

Despite his efforts of stubborness, he closes his eyes and lets his body go slack.

He wants this.

You're relieved. For a moment, you sit still, not wanting to scare him away with any sudden movements. He needed this peace, and you wouldn't dare take it from him.

Slowly, you start to rake your fingers through his curls. Slowly, gently. Like a mother comforting her child.

He needs it. More than ever.

When you begin to run your fingers through his hair, it's like all his defenses dissolve away. Astarion lets out a quiet hum of contentment and presses his head further into your warmth, making himself as comfortable as possible in this precious moment.

Time seems to slow down as you sit there. There's no need for words. After so long of being taken and abused by his master, Astarion finds himself oddly calm. Safe.

It's strange to feel this comfortable. Even now he should have to urge to try and escape your touch, but he's not feeling those impulses.

He takes a deep breath and relaxes into your touch. The tension and discomfort that seemed to define his existence is melting away. For the first time in centuries, he feels he's where he belongs.

As you continue to pet his hair, you hear a quiet whisper come from your companion.

"Thank you."

[mim16s]

Survival in game

Hello everyone, sorry for taking so many days to post an update. I was sick and couldn’t write, but I’ll try to be more active from now on. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

A part of this chapter may be a trigger for some people , for there is heavy violence against the reader and bad memories that will be explained in an upcoming chapter.

Materialist

Part 3

The atmosphere still carried a heavy tension, even after the game had ended. The imminent threat of death had lessened, but the feeling of unease lingered. You looked at Hyun-ju, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. Words seemed insufficient to express the gratitude for both of you being alive.

— What are you thinking? — Hyun-ju asked, curious. — You've been looking at me for a while... Something on your mind?

You looked away, trying to organize the whirlwind of thoughts, especially during tense situations.

— I'm just happy you're alive. — Your voice came out calm but carried a sincerity that made Hyun-ju smile. You couldn't help but smile back, an almost automatic reaction. — I can't wait to get out of here. Do you think we'll have enough votes to end it for now? — you asked, and she seemed anxious, remaining silent for a moment.

— Maybe we'll leave today — she said softly.

— When we get out, I want you to meet my mom she will love you. I'll cook something nice for us — your voice was enthusiastic, momentarily forgetting the situation and thinking about meeting Hyun-ju in a different place.

— I'd like that — she smiled. — I didn't know you cooked.

— Well, I'm not a chef or anything, but I can make some tasty food.

— It's a deal, then — Hyun-ju said.The conversation was interrupted by a voice from another bed in the dormitory.

— Can I ask you something? — The older woman, with her son beside her, got your attention.

— Sure. — Hyun-ju responded politely, though you noticed a tension in her posture.— When you were playing jegi, why did you ask us not to look?Hyun-ju looked away, staring at the floor for a few seconds. The discomfort was palpable, and you wanted to offer support but didn't know how. Your mind raced, trying to find the right way to encourage her, but the words seemed stuck as usual.

— It's because I... — Hyun-ju began, but the woman interrupted.

— Shy? — the woman asked innocently. — Is that why?

— No, I'm not shy. It's just... I'm not finished...

— Finished what? — The woman's curiosity seemed insatiable.

— Mom, stop. — Yong-sik intervened, holding his mother's arm with evident desperation. — Stop asking so many questions.

— It's okay. — Hyun-ju tried to calm the situation. — It's just... I have more surgeries to go, and when people stare at me, I...You saw Hyun-ju's insecurity. Slowly, almost hesitantly, you slid your hand near hers, trying to convey comfort. Hyun-ju looked at you, and the small connection seemed to give her a bit more strength.

— Surgeries? Oh, so that's an implant, right? — The older woman said, realizing something but still not noticing Hyun-ju's discomfort. — I thought they were big...

She raised her hands as if to touch Hyun-ju's chest, but before she could continue, Yong-sik interrupted again, visibly embarrassed.

— Stop, mom! Don't touch her!

Relief came as more people entered, interrupting the conversation. You felt a little lighter seeing more people had survived, but not everyone felt the same, as you noticed the purple-haired man's group upset that more people had made it.

The masked soldiers entered. The tension returned as they began announcing the game results. Voices of indignation rose as people demanded a recount of the prize. But for you, the money no longer mattered. All you wanted was to leave that place and return to your mom. You looked at Hyun-ju, wishing to see her far from this hell.

As the voting started, your heart raced. Each vote was a stab of anxiety. You watched Yong-sik switch sides, pressing the "O" to continue. His mother's look of disappointment was hard to ignore. Your eyes met Hyun-ju's. Would she vote to continue too? She voted "O" before... No, she promised this would be the last time.

Your turn came. You walked to the panel, each step felt heavier. Without hesitation, you pressed the red "X," determined not to continue. You returned to the "X" side, your eyes fixed on Hyun-ju, waiting for her decision with your heart in your throat.

When her turn came, Hyun-ju walked to the panel. You watched, your body tense, your mind racing. Doubt was written on her face, but then, she pressed "O." The sound of the button being pressed seemed to echo in your head, drowning out every other noise around you. Your breath caught in your throat, and a wave of betrayal washed over you. You had agreed this would be the last game. Why would she lie? Your eyes filled with tears, the pain becoming almost unbearable.

She turned, and your eyes met. When Hyun-ju saw the pain and betrayal in your gaze, the realization of what she'd done hit her hard. She understood that her decision, based on her own needs and struggles, hadn't considered how deeply it would affect you. She had only thought of her debts, her unfinished transition, but now, seeing the pain in your eyes, the weight of her choice seemed unbearable.The voting continued, but everything around you became a blur. The voices of people debating whether to continue the game or not felt distant, almost unreal. The final result appeared: 23 votes difference. The games would continue. You stood up, walking slowly back to your bed. Each step felt drained of energy, each movement a struggle. You felt the eyes on you but had no strength to lift your head. You knew Hyun-ju was watching you, but the weight of disappointment was too heavy to face.

As meals were distributed, you remained still. The hunger had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming emptiness. Then, a pair of hands appeared before you, one holding a piece of bread, the other a liter of milk. You looked up slowly. It was Hyun-ju. She avoided your eyes, her expression filled with sadness.

— I noticed you didn't get any, so... I brought this for you. — Her voice was low, almost a whisper, filled with hesitation. You remained still, unwilling to take the food. — Please, eat something. You need to keep your strength up for tomorrow.

— I don't want to eat. — You murmured, your voice barely audible, reflecting your inner struggle.Hyun-ju placed the food beside you, letting out a heavy sigh.

— I'll leave it here... in case you change your mind. — She hesitated, her voice trembling with emotion. — I'm sorry for lying to you. I...

Before she could continue, Yong-sik and Geum-ja approached, breaking the tense moment.

— But I wasn't the only one who voted to continue. Look! Someone else voted for the circle, see? Look there — Yong-sik pointed at Hyun-ju as he spoke.

— Why did you do it? — Geum-ja asked, her voice filled with disappointment. — After promising we would eat together, why did you change your mind?—She said, mentioning a conversation you had before, where she had invited you to visit her house.—Is it because of your surgeries? Are they that expensive?

Hyun-ju remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor. The words seemed trapped, but finally, she spoke, her voice breaking under the weight of her memories.

— Everything was... fine until I revealed who I really am. People thought I was strange, but that wasn't a problem. — Her voice trembled, each word a painful effort. — But after I said I wanted to be a woman and went through my transition... everything fell apart. My mom cried, my dad rejected me. I got fired and lost my friends. I need the surgeries, but I have no job, no money. I felt free, but... my life became unbearably hard.

You lifted your face, the initial anger starting to dissipate in light of her raw words. The weight of what she was carrying became clear. Despite the pain you felt, you began to understand. Hyun-ju wasn't just fighting for money, but for her own survival and dignity.

— Oh my... and what did you do for work? — Geum-ja asked, now with a softness in her voice.

— I was a soldier. — Hyun-ju replied, the weight of the revelation making Yong-sik's mouth fall open in surprise. You were a bit surprised, seeing the sweet woman Hyun-ju is, that job hadn't crossed your mind, but remembering how she acted in the game and how she handled the game's environment kind of made sense.

— And what will you do when you get out of here? — Geum-ja asked curiously.

— I'm going to Thailand. — The determination in her voice was clear, conveying hope. — I'll play one more game, have the surgeries there, buy a house... and start a new life.

Your heart ached. Thailand? She would go so far away? Maybe you'd never see her again.

— I've been to Thailand. — Yong-sik said, trying to lighten the mood. — There are many people like Hyun-ju there, you know? Seriously, and many are much slimmer and prettier than a lot of women I've seen. It's amazing.

— They say people there are much prettier. — Hyun-ju said.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to speak. Your voice came out trembling but full of sincerity.

— You're beautiful. It was the first thing I thought when I saw you.

Hyun-ju lifted her gaze, happy that you spoke to her and by your words, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Your words hit her with a force she didn't expect. After everything she'd been through, hearing that from you was like a balm to her soul. She held back her tears, feeling the warmth of your words filling the emptiness in her heart. For the first time in a long time, she felt seen, not as a freak, but as who she truly was.

___

The time for lights out was approaching, and a growing discomfort took hold of you. You felt a penetrating gaze that made your skin prickle, as if something invisible was pressing down on you. Your eyes scanned the room until they found the man with purple hair. He was staring at you with an almost suffocating intensity, his eyes fixed on you in a way that seemed to strip you bare, layer by layer. It was as if he were piercing through all your barriers with a single look.

Your heart raced, and the air seemed heavier. You tried to look away, thinking that maybe if you did, he would stop staring at you that way.

— Can we talk? — Hyun-ju's voice sounded beside you, pulling you back to reality. You turned to her, now alone as the woman and her son had left. You still felt the weight of that gaze on your back. The hairs on your arms stood on end, as if sensing something bad.

— Yes, of course. — Your voice came out more tense than you intended. You tried to focus on Hyun-ju, but the discomfort persisted, like a constant shadow.Hyun-ju took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the floor.

— I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made promises I couldn't keep. I was wrong, and I'm sorry.

You observed her posture, visibly dejected.

— Hyun-ju, I understand that you're seeking your happiness. But I won't lie, your actions hurt me. I don't want to continue in this game, but I also can't force you to leave. I can't completely judge you because I don't face the same challenges you do. But I understand the pain of people distancing themselves.You paused, searching for the right words. — I've never had many friends. In school, the few I managed to make distanced themselves, afraid of also becoming targets of bullying, like I was. I know what it's like to feel empty.Hyun-ju raised her eyes, slightly widened, speechless.

— I voted to stay, but I will protect you. I made a promise to myself and I won't break it. As long as I breathe, I'll be by your side. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you and I promise this will be the last time I vote to continue..

You nodded, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders.

— Alright. Just... please, don't lie again. I don't like lies.

O silêncio que se seguiu foi pesado, mas trouxe uma estranha sensação de alívio, como se ambos estivessem começando a se entender, apesar de tudo. Você examinou a sala com os olhos até encontrar o homem de cabelo roxo. Ele estava observando você com uma intensidade quase esmagadora, perfurando cada camada do seu ser, ele mencionou um homem parado ao lado dele, que olhou para você e então riu junto com ele.

As luzes finalmente se apagaram, e você se virou na cama, tentando em vão encontrar o sono. A escuridão deveria ter trazido alívio, mas o pensamento do jogo mortal esperando por você na manhã seguinte não o deixaria em paz. A ansiedade apertou sua garganta, tornando cada respiração mais difícil. E agora, a pressão em sua bexiga começou a atormentá-lo. Você não conseguiria esperar até o amanhecer. Então, silenciosamente, você se levantou, tentando não acordar ninguém, mas quando estava prestes a sair, sua mão foi agarrada.

— Where are you going? — Hyun-ju asked, still sleepy, blinking slowly. She woke up as soon as your feet hit the floor, as if she were connected to you. She almost laughed, but the weight of the night didn’t allow it.

— I need to go to the bathroom — you whispered, trying not to disturb anyone else.

— I’ll go with you. It could be dangerous — Hyun-ju replied, getting up, but you interrupted her.

— It’s okay, go back to sleep. Nothing will happen. I’ll just go to the bathroom and come back quickly — you tried to reassure her. She hesitated at first but eventually nodded, still reluctant.

Hyun-ju saw you walking toward the bathroom door. She noticed the brief exchange with the guard before you entered, and then, a few minutes later, She saw two more people getting up to go to the bathroom. A bad feeling settled in her stomach, but she tried to ignore it. Maybe it was just her mind exaggerating, she thought.

Inside the bathroom, time seemed to crawl. The sound of water running was a constant in your mind. Then, you felt, cold and relentless, the presence of someone behind you. Your hairs stood up instantly.

— I’ve waited so long to find you alone, but that friend of yours never leaves your side. It was irritating — the man’s voice sounded low and threatening. You turned and saw him, the man who had been watching you earlier. Panic spread quickly through your body, but you tried to remain calm. Something was wrong, and this shouldn’t be happening.

— This is the women’s bathroom. You shouldn’t be here — you said, stepping as far away from him as possible. But he didn’t seem to care.

— Meu amigo e eu queremos mais votos para continuar jogando, então esse "x" ali precisa sair — disse Namgyu, que surgiu por trás do homem de cabelos roxos pressionando o dedo contra o tecido, a força causando uma leve ardência na pele.

— I just want to leave. Accept that — you replied, your tone firm but tense, trying to assert your opinion.— Oh, look at that, seems like we've got a brave one here — Thanos mocked, laughing.

— Do we need to teach this bitch a lesson so she learns some manners, man? — Namgyu asked, and Thanos grinned, stepping closer. His imposing figure became even more intimidating as he shoved you hard. You stumbled, nearly falling, fear growing in your eyes.

— Please, stop this. Just let me go — you pleaded, your voice trembling.

— Are you going to vote to keep playing the next game? — he asked, getting no response. He chuckled, raising his hand and delivering a hard slap. You fell to the ground, your face burning with a red mark as tears streamed down.

— I bet after this lesson, you'll change your mind — Namgyu said, kicking your stomach. The pain made you double over, powerless against their violence. Tears rolled down as you tried to defend yourself, but it was futile. The pain and humiliation brought back memories of your teenage years, of bullying, of cruel laughter.Suddenly, the kicking stopped. When you opened your eyes, you saw Hyun-ju, delivering precise blows. Namgyu and Thanos tried to fight back, but it was useless. She was relentless, only stopping when they were beaten and scared enough not to try anything else. They fled, leaving the bathroom in a panic

Your body was shaking, your head was spinning, and you just wanted to disappear. The sensation was unbearable. The memories of bullying from years ago flooded back, the recollection of being cornered behind the school while your classmates beat you. What Namgyu and Thanos did was the breaking point. You felt utterly out of control.

You hit your head against the wall, trying to turn the psychological pain into physical pain, something more bearable. But soon, you felt something different. A gentle hand held your head, but you still couldn’t stop. Your movements seemed frantic, and she held you with a little more force, interrupting the frantic rhythm of your head against the wall and your hand. When you looked, you saw Hyun-ju in front of you, her eyes worried, but her voice still seemed distant, muffled by the pain.

— It’s okay, not here anymore, it’s me. It’s over, it’s okay — Hyun-ju said, trying to calm you down. Her voice still seemed distant, but her presence was everything you needed at that moment.

She hugged you, holding you tightly, whispering words of comfort as her tears soaked your shoulder. But there was no peace. The weight of it all was still on you, and the feeling of helplessness continued to consume you. Your mind was in a dark place, and every word from Hyun-ju seemed to echo as if it were another reality, one you couldn’t reach. You tried to calm down, but you couldn’t. Your breathing was fast, your mind racing, your body paralyzed by anxiety.You felt your body slowly relaxing, but the feeling of helplessness didn’t go away. Your voice was weak when you spoke.

— I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want to go home... — Your voice came out dragged, weak, as if each word was a monumental effort.Hyun-ju hugged you tighter, as if she could protect you from all of that, from everything that had happened and was still happening. But the pain, the guilt, she couldn’t dissipate the regret stamped on her face.

—I know... I'm sorry...— she said, the weight of guilt heavy in her words. Thoughts swirled in her mind—if only she hadn’t voted in that circle, none of this would have happened. If only she had insisted on going with you to the bathroom, Thanos and Namgyu would never have had the chance to approach you. She blamed herself, but you could no longer think about what could have been; it all felt irrelevant. It didn’t matter what might have been, what could have changed. The pain was here now, and nothing else made sense. You gave in to the pain, crying against her as she wrapped you in her jacket, trying to warm you, shield you, protect you, even if she didn’t know if it was possible.

Hyun-ju tried to stop you from hurting yourself, holding your hands that were scratching, trying to substitute the head hits, but it was as if you were trapped in an endless cycle. She held you tighter, her hands now trying to hold you with all the energy she had, as if she could stop the pain from continuing. Her words of comfort came in a constant flow, but you could hardly hear them. All you could feel was the agony inside you.

— I don’t know what else to do... — Hyun-ju murmured to herself, her voice cracking with frustration, with the despair of not being able to help you.

She felt her own impotence, felt like she was failing you in every possible way. Her face was pale, silent tears falling down her face as well. She didn’t know what else to do, but she kept trying, insisting on holding you as if it were possible to bring you back to your body, she didn’t know what else to do, but she wouldn’t leave you alone. She didn’t want you to go through this without someone by your side. Time seemed to stretch, as if the crisis would never end, and she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to bear seeing you like this.She whispered, repeatedly, almost pleading.

— I’m here... Please, listen to me... You’re not alone... I’m here... I won’t leave you...

[bunbun-mochi]

Parent Children moments - Shorts

Sylus

no proofreading, just Sylus and his daughter's cute fluff moments

The room is dim. Many people sitting at the long table, some tapping their fingers on the table while some chatting.

This is the first time their boss were late.

Very late, in fact.

"Where is he?"

"Did he forgot he have a meeting today?"

As if to answer their question, the door opened.

Sylus walked in, holding a bundle in front of him that was covered by his suit coat. The closer he walked toward his seat, they started to see some glimpse of the bundle.

Few threads of white silver hair and a small hand holding onto his dress shirt.

It is a child. Their boss took a child to a meeting?

Few hours ago...

You sighed as you tried to soothe your daughter. She was feeling sick and uncomfortable, screaming and crying. Tiredness in your eyes as you hold her, trying to rock her to sleep. However, the screams and cries were louder and you sighed in defeat.

As you continued to rock your daughter, you failed to hear the door open. Footsteps walk toward you.

"I'll take care of her," A deep voice rumbled behind you. "Go to sleep."

You shook my head, "You have a meeting to go to. It's okay."

Sylus gently took the toddler from my arms, "It's ok. I can always have Luke and Kieran deal with the meeting if needed. Go sleep."

Perhaps Sylus is naturally warm or because your daughter loves her father more than her own mother, her cries get quieter when Sylus holds her.

You crawled into bed and Sylus draped the blanket over you.

"Thanks, love," I whispered.

"Don't mention it," Sylus pecked my forehead.

Sylus sat at the end of the table, holding a child. They are all confused. When did their boss take in a child? Did he and his wife have a kid? Although their minds were filled with questions, none dared to ask.

Sylus waved his hand and the meeting started while he continued to hold his daughter in a shoulder hold. His hand drawing soothing circles on his daughter's back, soothing her discomfort. His coat covers the majority of her so no one can see what she looks like and keeps her warm.

As the meeting went on, his daughter switched several sleeping positions. Started off with her head sleeping on his shoulder, then moved to sleep on her back, then twisting and turning, and now she's sleeping on her stomach.

Sylus smiles slightly as his daughter quietly snoozes in his arms. Although it's rare to see his genuine smile, the people in the meeting room knew it was not the first time. His first genuine smile was toward his wife. And connecting the dots, they realized that their boss in fact had a child. He had a child and no one knew.

The meeting was near the end when a small voice called, "Dada."

Sylus looked down to his daughter, "Yes, baby?"

His daughter used her fingers to try to tell her father what she wanted. Sylus smiled, "Water?"

She nodded. Sylus gestured to a servant nearby. Within seconds, her father brings a cup of water. She drank it thirsty and gestured to her father that she wanted more. Her father smiled and got more water. She only drank half of that cup before going back to sleep.

Sylus watched as his daughter shifted in his arm, trying to get comfortable. And once she did, she immediately fell back to sleep. He gently lifted his coat, covered his daughter, and gently kissed the top of her head.

Perhaps having his daughter attend the meeting with their boss is much better than they thought. Their boss's mood seems to be a lot better than usual. The meeting went by without a hitch. As much as they hate to admit it, that small child saved their life and their sanity.

[ks-dreams-fantasies]

TEACH ME PT.4 | TRAVIS KELCE

a/n : I've been swamped with Universty 🫠 sorry for the wait but I hope you like this 4th part 💕 Enjoy !!

Warning : None, Some kissing

Words: 1,473 (Not proofread)

Pairing : Travis Kelce x Reader

Part 3

TEACH ME PART 4 | TRAVIS KELCE

‘’Y/N?’’ he slurred, a mix of surprise and recognition in his eyes. ‘’I’ve been thinking about you.’ 

Time seemed to slow, and your heart raced. He took a step forward, his presence, unexpected and unwelcome, sent a shiver down your spine and you took a step back, getting closer to Travis. 

‘’I’ve …I’ve tried to call but��’’ You instinctively tightened your grip on Travis’s hand, drawing strength from his steady presence.

"Is there a problem here?" Travis's voice was calm but firm, his protective stance unwavering.

Christopher’s gaze shifted between the both of you, a mix of surprise and discomfort in his eyes. You knew from his look that he was aware of who Travis was. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "Since when do you two know each other?’’ he asked, shocked and hurt when he saw your hands intertwined. 

‘’It’s none of your business anymore, Christopher.’’ You responded looking at your feet before meeting his gaze again, feeling uncomfortable. He went on to speak but Travis cut him off before he could. 

"I think it would be best if you go back inside with your friends, don’t you think?" Travis’s powering figure was imposing. Christopher hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you, before turning and stumbling back into the bar.

You let out a shaky breath, your heart still pounding. Travis turned to face you, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, trying to find your words. "Yeah, I... I didn't expect to see him. Thank you, for being here."

He squeezed your hand gently, offering silent support. "You don't have to thank me. I'm just glad you're okay."

As you continued your walk, the weight of the encounter lingered. Your thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions, and you couldn't help but be grateful for Travis's unwavering presence. He didn't press for details, understanding the complexity of the situation.

His protective instinct and genuine concern were a testament to the kind of person he was, caring, strong, and ready to stand by your side.

In that moment, you knew that this unexpected encounter had only deepened the connection between you guys. And as you continued to walk hand in hand through the city, you felt a sense of trust and comfort settling in, solidifying the special bond you were building. You had made your way to Travis’s car, riding back towards your place.

"You know," he began, his voice low and conspiratorial, "I was thinking we should do this again sometime. Maybe catch a game together?"

You turned to face him, a playful glint in my eye. "Are you trying to impress me with your football prowess, Mr. Kelce?"

He chuckled, a deep, melodic sound that made your heart flutter. "Maybe just a little. But mostly, I just enjoy spending time with you."

You couldn't help but smile, the sincerity in his words washing over you like a warm wave. "I'd love to catch a game with you. Just promise not to quiz me on the finer points of the sport."

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Deal. I'll fly you out to KC and stick to teaching you the basics."

‘’When are you going back?’’ you asked him, realising he played in a totally different state. 

‘’Tomorrow, I hope it doesn’t stop us from doing this again, because I really like you’’ he said as you reached your apartment.  His gaze locked with yours. "You know, this has been one of the best evenings I've had in a long time," he admitted, a touch of vulnerability in his eyes. 

He stepped closer, his free hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch was tender, sending a wave of warmth through you. "I feel the same way," you confessed murmuring, heart pounding in your chest, blushing as your gaze locked with his. He looked down at your lips. His gaze lingered there, making his intention obvious as you moved even closer to him.

With your hearts racing, Travis leaned in, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin, a silent caress that spoke volumes.

Your breaths mingled and his mouth worked against yours. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a cocoon of intimacy. You could feel the soft press of his lips, gentle yet filled with a quiet intensity, as if he was pouring his feelings into that kiss. 

His lips were warm and soft and there was a sweetness to it, a tenderness that carried all the unspoken emotions that had built between the two of you over the past few days. It was a kiss that tasted like promise, like the beginning of something beautiful and profound.

The kiss deepened, though still retaining its tender nature. Your mouths moved in a slow, synchronous dance, expressing a deep affection that had grown between you both. There was no rush, only the quiet assurance that you wanted to savor this moment for as long as you could.

When you finally parted, it was with a gentle shyness, as if you were both aware that this was just the beginning. Your eyes met, and in his gaze, you saw a reflection of you own feelings - a mixture of longing, hope, and a promise for the future.

"I don’t want to sound clingy but, I wish you didn't have to go," You murmured, a touch of longing in your voice.

He gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I know," he replied, his voice carrying the same wistful tone. "But we'll see each other soon, and until then, you'll be in my thoughts every day."

You couldn't help but giggle softly, your eyes locked on his. "That's a lot of thoughts, you know."

His grin was infectious, and his hand cupped your cheek. "Well, you're worth it. Besides, we'll make plans, video calls, and send each other cute messages. It'll feel like no time has passed at all. Plus, I promised to fly you out to KC"

You leaned in, wrapping your arms around his neck as you got on your tiptoes, and whispered, "I'll hold you to that." 

Your noses brushed, and you shared a tender laugh. You knew that goodbyes were hard, but they were only temporary. With one last lingering kiss, you reluctantly stepped away from each other, your hearts feeling a little lighter.

That night as you laid in bed, a whirlwind of emotions swirled within you, and you couldn't quite pinpoint the source of it all. Perhaps it was the unexpected encounter with your ex-fiancé earlier in the evening, a painfull reminder of a past chapter. Or maybe it was the knowledge that Travis lived in a completely different state, a geographical distance that seemed scary and daunting.

However, amid the chaos of those emotions, one feeling stood out like a beacon. The butterflies that danced in your stomach from the magical evening with him. The way he made you feel like you were the only girl in the world, the laughter you guys shared, and the electric anticipation before the moment your lips collied. 

As the morning sun gently streamed through the curtains, you rose from bed and with a quick glance at the clock, you knew it was time to get ready for another day at work with the little kids. 

After a brisk shower and a fresh cup of coffee, you got dressed and made your way to school, where you found Camille waiting for you in your class. 

"Tell me everything, from the beginning!" she rushed as you fumbled with your bags. 

As you recounted each moment, from the charming restaurant to the heartfelt conversation, you could see Camille staring at you with her infectious grin. Her support and genuine happiness for you made the memory even more special. She freaked out when you told her about running into Christopher, but she freaked out even more when you mentioned you and Travis kissing.

Later, as you stood in your bustling classroom, children flitting about like little whirlwinds of creativity, a soft knock on the door drew your attention. Opening it, you were greeted by a breathtaking bouquet of flowers, their colors a vibrant celebration. Gasps of delight echoed from the kids, their eyes wide with wonder.

A small note was nestled among the blooms, its message a testament to the thoughtfulness of the man who took you out the night before.

‘’I couldn't wait to brighten your day as much as you brightened mine last night, I hope you take me on my offer" it read, the words etching a smile on your face that could rival the sun's warmth.

To the note was attached a plane ticket to KC, scheduled in a little bit more than a week. 

Part 5

To Be Continued

Taglist : @kkrenae @spencerreidisbootiful @nabiiturner @ilove-tswizzle @legit9thlunaticwarrior @evernova @kelcemenow @bellstwd @my-regrets @green-lxght @thecubanator2 @corvusmorte @vznggh @kxllanxtdoor @youareadistraction @blackstabbath6 @queenmendes @@maryleclerc

[libby-for-life]

So, can you do a sick one-shot with Adam and Lucifer? Maybe Adam has a fever and Lucifer reluctantly takes care of him. But then he starts to hallucinate things. Stuff that makes Lucifer question things about what he believes.

Oh? A challenge, hu? Since you didn't specify if this was my version of Adamsapple, I'm just going to assume that this is more traditional Adamsapple and go from there.

Sinner!Adam under contract with Lucifer.

Lucifer stood before Charlie with a sigh, feeling irritated. "Are you telling me that there isn't anyone else who can take care of him? I don't have time to deal with a whiney brat who is probably faking all this just to get attention," he grumbled. The devil was not convinced that Adam was genuinely sick. He wouldn't put it past him to fake it to receive special treatment.

Charlie replied, "Normally, I would take care of it, but I have a lot of paperwork to deal with." She gestured towards her desk, which was piled high with papers, making Lucifer wince. "Vaggie is busy with Niffty, Angel Dust and Husk are working, and Alastor is not an... option."

Lucifer shivered at the thought of Alastor taking care of Adam. The devil was under contract to protect the idiot from harm, but it would end badly for Adam if Alastor was involved. "Alright, I'll do it," he said, resigned.

"Thank you, Dad!" Charlie beamed at him, making him feel a little better. Teleporting to Adam's room, Lucifer hoped to catch him in the act of faking it but found himself in a dark room with the curtains drawn. The only thing he could see was a lump on Adam's bed.

Frustrated, the devil snapped his fingers, and the lights turned on. Adam let out a whimper, making Lucifer roll his eyes. "Oh, stop it. Nobody is buying this pity act," he said sternly.

When he got no reply, he growled again, "The hard way it is then." He stomped over to the sinner's bed and ripped the blankets off him. "Get up now!" Lucifer was done playing games. If Adam was going to continue acting this way, he didn't mind using force to beat some sense into him.

However, to his surprise, Adam didn't yell, swear, or even glare at him. Instead, he let out another whimper. This time, Lucifer actually looked at Adam and saw just how different he looked. His gray skin had an ashy color, his breath was labored, and his shirt was missing, revealing how sweaty he was. It was clear that Adam was genuinely sick.

Lucifer felt slightly guilty for making Adam uncomfortable when it was clear he was miserable with a fever.

Placing a hand on the sinner's forehead, he hissed at the heat. "Oh, you are sick, aren't you?" He murmured. "Alright, let's sit you up."

Soon, Adam was propped up on pillows, wrapped up in comfortable blankets, and looking at Lucifer with dazed eyes. The devil knew that the demon wasn't truly seeing him due to his sickness.

Gently draping a cool cloth onto Adam's forehead, he noticed how the sinner's eyes followed his every move.

"You're so beautiful...." Adam slurred.

Lucifer froze and looked at him confused. "Hu?" He must've been really out of it if he was complimenting him.

"Beautiful...so beautiful. I can see why she left me...I didn't stand a chance."

Lucifer grimaced when he realized that Adam must've been talking about Eden. Whether it was Eve or Lilith he was referring to was still being questioned in Lucifer's mind.

"Let's not waste your energy." Lucifer finally said.

Adam whimpered again but he continued talking. "Lilith was beautiful too...but she didn't like me...why did she not like me?"

"Maybe because you were a narcissistic dick who wanted to control her?" Lucifer said with a glare. Any kind of sympathy he had for the sinner was gone. How could Adam even ask that?!

Adam shook his head, clearly too out of it to understand that the devil was insulting him. "That's not what she said..." He slurred out. A look of sadness came over Adam and, to Lucifer's growing discomfort, looked like he was going to cry.

"She told me I was disgusting...that she didn't want to stand next to someone so ugly." Lucifer was too stunned to speak. What?

"She didn't like me talking. I talk too much. She liked to gag me when she couldn't stand the noise. It hurt...." Adam was now crying, big tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.

"Why didn't you fight back?" Lucifer immediately asked. If he hated how Lilith treated him, especially if it hurt, then why didn't he make her stop? Adam certainly never backed down from a fight. In fact, he was usually starting them.

"I wanted her to like me..." Adam replied with a groan. His breathing seemed labored. "If I did what she wanted...then she'll like me....even if it hurt. Even if it made me cry." Adam furrowed his eyebrows, his hazy eyes looking into the distance. "No...she didn't like me crying. She said it was annoying and ugly so I don't do it anymore." It was ironic with the tears streaming down his face.

Adam turned his golden eyes to the devil who flinched at the devastating but resigned look on his face. "I guess I didn't do it good enough...she found someone better...someone smarter...."

A large hand cupped Lucifer's cheek. "Who can compete with angels?" And then he passed out. Lucifer didn't know that he was holding his breath until he started gasping. What the fuck?

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Lady - 5

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , Chap 7.

I'd really appreciate it if anyone who likes this series could leave a comment or reblog with a GIF.

Could you let me know what your thoughts are? Reblogs and comments are the main things that keep me posting new stories. ❤️❤️❤️

"Oh my god. Oh my god. What am I going to do?" You paced back and forth, your mind racing with worry.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk replaced with a concerned frown. "Why are you the one stressed out?" He assured you that you wouldn't have to deal with dirty work.

This was the first time Bucky had seen you lose your composure.

You grabbed his collar, desperation evident in your eyes. "You don't understand, the last person I want to deal with is my stepsister."

Returning home, you realized that if there was an investigation, your job profession could make you a suspect, too.

Trying to calm you down, Bucky suggested, "For the alibi, if anyone asks, just say that you were with me."

You scoffed, feeling frustrated. "Like they're going to believe that I wanted to spend a day with you."

Everyone in your household knew how annoyed you were with Bucky. On numerous occasions, they had heard you complain about him to Cedric, the family lawyer.

You were quiet as you picked up the phone to make a call.

"Y/N?"

The sound of his voice brought a sense of calm over you. "I need your help."

"I'll be there."

A few hours later...

Bucky chimed in with his usual teasing tone. "Ooh, so you choose him over me?"

You rolled your eyes while Eddie checked on you.

Eddie interjected, "Her family will believe me if she spends the night with me."

Your cheeks flushed slightly at his words.

"But there's something missing," Eddie continued.

"What?" you asked.

"They won't believe it if you only say it was a sleepover," Eddie explained.

"What are you trying to say?" you inquired.

Bucky caught on. "Hangover."

Eddie nodded in agreement. "You have to make yourself look hungover. That strengthens your alibi."

"Right," you acknowledged.

Bucky rolled his eyes, realizing that he had suggested the idea first, but you were only listening to Eddie.

"Perfect. I have plenty of alcohol here. What do you want to drink?" Bucky offered.

You replied confidently, "Start with the strongest."

"Yes," Bucky agreed.

After downing three shots of vodka, you started to lose yourself in the night. With the alcohol, the music, and the vibrant atmosphere of Bucky's club, you found yourself enjoying the moment and forgetting about your troubles.

######

As you awakened, the sensation of your stomach churning made you groan. It felt as if your insides had shifted, causing discomfort to spread throughout your body.

Slowly, you managed to sit up, only to discover that you were sprawled atop Eddie, who was still fast asleep and holding you close. Relief washed over you as you realized that both of you were still fully clothed.

However, the memories of the previous night flooded back, each one hitting you with increasing clarity.

"You're awake?"

Your eyes widened at the sound of Bucky's voice. Glancing over, you saw him standing nearby, his shirt rumpled and a distinct lipstick stain marking his lips.

A wave of nausea swept over you, prompting you to grab the nearby champagne bucket and empty its contents in a fit of vomiting.

"Urggh."

Bucky's remark cut through the haze of your discomfort. "Well, that hurts my feelings. You see my face and vomit."

"Urrghh," you groaned, the sickness still plaguing you.

Eddie winced, his hand moving to massage his throbbing head. "What kind of drink did you give us last night, Barnes?"

Bucky shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. "It's a new drink I picked up from a celebrity brand."

Eddie chuckled ruefully. "That explains everything."

He rose from his makeshift bed and reached over to pat your shoulder gently. You noticed a faded lipstick stain on his lips, the same color as yours. A blush crept up your cheeks as you realized the implications of the matching marks.

Meanwhile, the incessant ringing of your phone filled the air, causing your head to throb even more.

"Ring, ring."

You cringed, covering your ears to block the sound, but Eddie took the initiative to answer.

"77 missed calls," he informed you.

You grabbed your phone, reluctantly answering the next call.

"Where the hell are you?!!!" your mother's voice pierced through the line.

You sighed. "Mom, don't scream."

"What—? Are you drunk right now? Come home now. Your sister's fiancé died."

You negotiated, "Give me 2 hours."

"One hour."

Turning to the two men beside you, you sought their reassurance. "Do you think they're going to believe me?"

Eddie, suppressing a burp, offered some confidence. "I believe so. You rarely get drunk, and you have a reasonable reason after your fight with Charlotte."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, how do you know about me and her?"

Bucky yawned lazily. "You spilled the beans last night."

You were shocked.

Bucky leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips as he added, "You spilled your guts about how you missed your stepdad, how your mother missed your birthday for five years straight, and how you had a row with your stepsister."

Eddie chimed in, his expression sympathetic as he confessed, "I did try to stop you."

You sighed heavily, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach. "Oh no."

Bucky, ever the opportunist, concluded, "But it supports your alibi, since half the club heard your sob story."

You couldn't help but huff in frustration, feeling the bile rising in your throat once more. "Great."

Amidst the conversation, Bucky's smirk only widened while Eddie wore a more concerned expression, his brow furrowed in sympathy.

Your body language betrayed your discomfort, with tense shoulders and a hand clutching your churning stomach, while your eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape from the mess you found yourself in.

########

Watching everyone in grief, especially Charlotte, who was sobbing as she watched her fiancé's casket being lowered into the ground. Charles stood beside her, offering what comfort he could.

Susan stood next to you, her voice barely above a whisper, "Give me one thing that would justify your actions."

She sounded grief-stricken seeing Charlotte cry like that, but she seemed oblivious to your own stress.

Wearing sunglasses to hide your red, teary eyes, you replied softly, "He cheated on her."

Susan clenched her fist, her anger palpable. "Good, he deserved it then."

After the funeral, you found yourself face-to-face with Bucky once again. With a roll of your eyes, you couldn't help but remark, "Now I feel like you're the angel of death."

Bucky merely smirked, seemingly unfazed by your comment. "I'm here to meet my client."

Drawing closer to him, you whispered, "You mean the one who ordered the hit on the prince?"

A nod from Bucky confirmed your suspicion, and he subtly gestured towards a woman standing on the fringes of the grieving family.

Your eyes widened in recognition. "Rosie?" Memories of encounters with her during summers spent at Eddie's manor flooded your mind.

Bucky's response was chillingly matter-of-fact. "You know her? Great. She's only paid half. The other half hasn't come through yet."

Your incredulity peaked. "Are you kidding me? Right now?"

You attempted to intervene, but your attention was diverted when you noticed Eddie approaching Rosie.

Bucky's voice cut through the tension with a teasing tone. "Oh-oh. Someone's jealous."

You shot him a glare, cursing inwardly. If even someone like Bucky could pick up on it, then your feelings must be glaringly obvious.

With a dismissive shrug, you replied, "It's just an old crush."

Bucky's smirk widened as he observed your reaction. "Seeing you like this makes me want to tease you more, Your Grace."

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[blingblong55]

Somebody to you-Simon "Ghost" Riley

Based on a request: Hear me out … 141 gets a medic. Ghost gets injured BAD, and considering his shitty childhood (if ykyk) he's lowkey scared because he likely never saw a GP. He's always dealt with the injuries on his own. Also the medic's nickname for him is 'the grim reaper' lol ---- GN!Reader, medic!reader, platonic!relationship, trauma!medic ---- A/N: for me "Grim" is the name used for all my GN, M and F Readers, which is why instead of Ghost saying "Grim reaper" he just says "Grim"...just to clarify

Ghost was always the one to treat his minor injuries when alone, and if it was something serious he would let a doctor help him. When 141 became a known group amongst base's Price was advised to get a medic, one that would know their medical history, know how to treat them and know how to deal with the lieutenant himself. Laswell recommended you, a young medic with expertise in trauma medicine.

The first time you met with the task force, you were told to run the medical centre on base. Price, Gaz and Soap were fine but Ghost sustained a gunshot wound to his abdomen and it seemed critical. "Get the doc, Price," Ghost said through gritted teeth. After one long run to Ghost room and an hour-long trying to get the bullet and close the one later, he shook your hand. He didn't want to be medicated but to Price's recommendation, he accepted morphine.

As the assigned medic to the team, you became close to them, except Ghost, who gave you tough love. Tough love in the definition of Ghost that is.

At around two in the morning, you walk to his room, checking his vitals and ensuring he is comfortable. "Doc-"

"Grim reaper, that's my call sign," you smile and he nods.

"What a shite name for a medic," a low chuckle escaped his lips. "I'll call you Grim," he continues. You nod, "So, how are ya feeling, Ghost?"

"Shit. what else would I feel?"

"Discomfort, pain, embarrassment-"

"I don't ever feel embarrassed."

"I heard Ghost never gets any major injuries, I'd say this day should be the first in your books and mine."

He shakes his head, "Y'ain't a good doc if you shit talk your patients, Grim."

"Who says I shit talk my patients?"

After months that turned into three years of working with 141, Ghost grew closer to you. If he went on a mission that had to be far from base, you went along with him to the closest base possible. "Get the doc," became an everyday sentence. No longer did he hide his minor injuries. One scratch, he called you. "Seriously, for this little thing?" you'd ask and he would nod. "What if it gets infected? Hm? Will you not care if your favourite lieutenant gets an infected injury and can't work? I mean, what a shit friend you are mate." He was like an annoying brother.

You did do your hair that morning? He would ruffle it, make it messy and then make you do push-ups for not wearing your uniform properly. One loose strand from your hair and he would shake his head. "Y'my favourite, Grim but that hair gets you in trouble." "Mate, you just messed it up!" "Now now, don't lie, no need for lies 'ere," a muted laugh as he noticed your annoyed look.

Watching him train was torture for both of you. "How was that?" Ghost would ask about his aim and you would shake your head. "You could've done better, y'er shit at this." If he messes with your job, why can't you mess with his? "Then shoot the damn thing yourself!" "Now now, no need to pout, Ghosty-" "Grim," he warns and you laugh.

You were brutally honest with him, something others didn't dare do with him. This was all because you knew him under that mask. In the field, you knew Ghost and on base, you knew Simon.

There was one time a close call, he lost so much blood and everyone was telling him he would be okay. One look at you and you sigh. "You die, I'll tell 'em about your secret favourite movie genre," you whisper in his ear and he smiles. "Then find this bloody bullet."

Time and time again, everyone saw him as the guard dog to the sweet medic and vice versa. You and him were a pair of idiots when late at night he would smoke with you, and tell the worst of jokes.

It was nice, to be somebody to someone. The best friend to a medic with a scary name like 'Grim Reaper'. He wouldn't complain. Ghost and the Grim Reaper, fighting enemies and injuries. He was somebody to you and at the end of the day when his body ached, it was all worth it.

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[penelopepine]

Maybe I'll write this later:

Ghost x Reader x Soap: Alien AU

You got abducted awhile ago, and has been trapped in a cell ever since. The only good thing so far is that the aliens all seem to be frightened of you.

Every single day since the first has practically been the same which is why when you hear a lot of noise coming you instinctively move to the back of your cell. Which seems to be the right move because just a few moments later the door is being opened, and a figure is being thrown inside. The door just as quickly is slammed shut once more.

This is the first time you meet Soap. He looks like what you assume a werewolf might look like. Once he sees you though it's not fear on his fear, but surprise; at least you would assume so it's hard to tell when dealing with an alien species. What surprises you though is when he say 'Hello' ... in English. You cried tears of joy for the first time in this cell upon hearing a single word.

The days that pass after that are filled with you and Soap learning how to communicate with one another. He can speak very minimal English, but that is enough for you to put some trust in him. After all another human must have taught him right?

Soap also seemed very interested in keeping you close to him anytime one of the other aliens visited your cell. Always keeping you behind him as he seemingly yelled at them. It's clear that they had planned for you to kill Soap. You know you had been aggressive towards them, but did they really think you would just kill him?

It's a few days of this before they take things into there own hands in getting rid of Soap. Two alien guards show up, and open the door to the cell and attempt to grab Soap. What they don't account for though is when he fight backs you do too. This might be your only chance out of here; you're not going to waste this.

Surprisingly, you two actually do mange to defeat them. Soap does do most of the work, but you still helped as much as you could. As soon as their down he's grabbing onto your hand, and dragging you out into the hall. He had to know more than you so you willingly followed.

It was good you did as well because after a few minutes alarms are blaring through the ship. That doesn't seem to affect Soap though as he continues to lead you around. Eventually you arrive at a door, and before you can even question what's happening Soap is pushing you inside.

Looking around you saw that this was some must be some kind of emergency pod. The first thing Soap does is help you with the straps to your seat before finally taking the drivers seat; starting up the pod up as fast as he can when someone starts banging on the door.

That doesn't seem to affect Soap though as you two very suddenly are taking off at speeds you've never experienced before. Once far enough away the speed slows to be more manageable to handle. He turns towards you, and says 'safe' and 'sleep'. And you do after all the day you've had all you want to do is sleep. You assume Soap knows what to do, and doesn't seem to want to ditch you anytime soon.

The next time you wake up it's because of a loud beeping sound filling the air. Looking out you see that you are actually entering another ship. Panic fills your veins as you look at Soap. He on the other looks to be the calmest you've ever seen him. Soap must know this ship, and hopefully trusting him won't turn out bad for you.

Seeing you're discomfort Soap puts a comforting hand on your shoulder before encouraging you out of the pod now that your fully landed inside. Everything seems to be calm as you step out, but that is before door leading farther in the ship opens up.

The first thing you notice about this new figure is that they have an eerily human look. What concerns you though is the mask that they're wearing; it's looks like a human skull. You instantly think that you've made a mistake trusting Soap.

The figure and Soap quickly move towards each other, and once in reach are pulling the other into an embrace. You watch as Soap whispers something into there ear, and in an instant there eyes are snapping towards were you stand still near the pod door.

Taking a hesitant step towards you they reach up to remove the mask. Underneath is a balaclava, but that's not what get your attention. What gets your attention is the distinct human eyes. The man in front of you is human.

He introduces himself as Ghost.

[carionto]

Do you think aliens would be weirded or freaked out that when we're tickled, it's actually a pain response but laughter (sometimes anger) is the only way we can deal with it? Or that tickling is even a thing?

That startling repeated noise.

Humans often make it, particularly when with other Humans. They say it's generally a reaction to positive emotional and unexpected physical stimulation in certain parts of their bodies. It is quite... disturbing sometimes.

Once a Human asked me to "tickle" them, saying my slender feathery limbs would be a fantastic sensation to experience. They raised their arms up and exposed their bare skin and said: "Go for the sides. My ribs are extra sensitive to that." Hesitantly, I complied.

Upon the lightest touch, they screamed louder than I had ever heard anyone do. It was mortifying, like the death-wail of a raging beast. I instinctively snapped back and my feet jolted me 10 meters away in a second.

The Human kept making this noise for a brief moment, then asked me to come back and continue, saying: "Oh man, I've never felt anything that gently peculiar. It's like a hundred feathers all in one place caressing each individual nerve ending. It's okay, us Humans love laughing like this, it's great."

Despite my initial shock and discomfort at the noise, I decided to comply and "tickle" the Human for a few minutes. It was a rather grueling experience to be honest, but after a short while, seeing more of what their "joy" looks like, I grew accustomed to the noise. Just a little.

"Whoo, damn, that actually tired me out. Haven't had a good laugh like that in a while, thanks for humoring me." The Human said while looking exhausted and catching their breath. I have never seen a Human on this station be physically tired before, even when they run and jump around and recklessly endanger their lives. But a light touch, I barely even had to move, and the Human was all but incapacitated.

"Hey, could you do me a favor? When you go back to your department, give one of the people there a tickle, someone who looks all gloomy or is often complaining about something. They could use a laugh. It won't be as effective through clothing, but trust me, they'll thank you for it. And if they don't just tell them I told you to do it, it'll be fine."

That last phrase raised alarm bells, but the reassurance and how much fun they seemed to have convinced me to accept their request. After all, it is a good thing to spread joy and happiness, so if this is one way I can help out Humans, then I should.

Big mistake.

When I got back and noticed one Human who fit the description, I approached them from behind and tickled the back of their neck, as I was told that is another sensitive spot.

They screamed, turned around and slapped my arm out of the way faster than I could retract it.

The bone is still healing, doctors said it would take a month for all the fractures to fully reconnect and harden, but the nerve connection to my seventh finger was so badly damaged I would never be able to fully extend it again.

I was visited by both Humans who I had "tickled" and the first was in a very apologetic and defeated mood. The other spoke: "I apologize for breaking your arm. I did not mean to. Tickling is one of those things we don't fully understand about ourselves, but it isn't just about having fun and being entertained." This was pointed more to the first Human.

"It's an automatic response, most Humans feel ticklish like this one here, but some, like me, find it painful and our response to external stimuli towards sensitive parts of our bodies is to protect them fiercely, like you had the misfortune of experience for yourself."

"I'll speak to the administration and have them include this in the guidelines for interacting with us Humans. And," turning directly towards the first Human now: "I'll have them include a section for Humans about not teaching our Alien friends to play children's tricks on us." They turned back to me. "Get well soon, and again, sorry about this mess."