#Imagines

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Vampire lover that can’t drink your blood without you keeping his cock warm.

He has to be balls deep in your pussy, otherwise he gets all hard and cums in his pants just from one sip of your blood.

It’s just way less messy to already have his cock buried in your cunt, and he doesn’t like to waste his seed. He’s a powerful vampire that needs an heir, that sperm is valuable!!

So every time he needs to feed, he pushes your expensive panties to the side and sits you on his cock, content to cum inside of you.

[potchi-fics]

note; look at her in the first pic omfgggggg the puppy eyes????????? i am ovulatinggg ive got a thing for asian baddies whose color palette is blue

tw; strap, overstimulation, yall fuck in a hotel, public sex

      she’s got you covering your mouth to conceal your whimpers and moans threatening to spill, eyes flickering because mizu’s silicone strap that is buried deep within you is hitting that one spot.

you don’t even know where she got it but here you are—on your back, legs up to your chest thanks to mizu holding down your legs, your dripping cunt free to use for her.

“you better keep quiet, or else they’ll hear you,” your vacant hand flies up to grip her blue kimono, “you don’t want that, do you?”

      you don’t. but she is making it very hard for you. the slaps of her hips are low, but they can be heard if one listens very carefully.

you honestly don’t know how many orgasms you’ve already had; three? four? there’s really no point in counting when the base of mizu’s strap is coated with your cum, rings forming around it. or, your slickness covering your entire cunt, i’m pretty sure her pants are covered too because you can feel its wetness when her thighs meet with yours.

she’s got a thing for fucking you numb while wearing her clothes. and for fucking you while in a hotel; the rush of it all. the thrill of it all. the risk of it all. the thought that someone can catch you two? mhmm.

your fingers curl firmly on her clothes when she particularly gives you a harsh thrust to bring you back to earth, your pussy fluttering around her strap, “focus on me.”

      you know she’s on the edge too. she barely shows it but you know. her breaths are shallow, eyes dilated, and her fingers are gripping your thighs so tight that she’ll be leaving marks and bruises.

“how can i focus on y-you–oh jesus,” you feel yourself gush around her strap. 

      the sting of her going in and out of you makes you see stars in your vision, your legs aching with how long she’s been at it.

she grunts with every thrust, putting all of her weight into fucking you senseless, “focus. on. me.” 

      your orgasm comes unexpectedly, blindsiding you; blinding you. your cum coats her dick more, coming out whiter and whiter each time she pulls back.

you’re sure your soul left your body because you don’t even register your hand coming up to mizu’s face, trying to push her away, eyes watering since she’s making you cum to the point where you feel like you’re floating.

your head hurts, your throat is sore, your body is aching, you feel dizzy, you feel everything—you feel her. 

“no, no,” her pace never wavers, her own clit stimulated from the strap rubbing it, “one more.”

“but that’s what you said hours a-ago, mizu.”

[noonecareslol]

When it hits 9 pm and I pull out this combo:

Ps: I have severe writers block. Help

[lazysoulwriter]

i'm not jealous of a cat. (except i am) - pedro pascal.

requested! hope you like it, bubssss! - requested are open.

---

You’re lying on the couch, a cozy blanket thrown over your legs, your hand lazily stroking the soft fur of your cat, who has once again claimed your chest as her personal throne. Pedro walks in, fresh from a shower, hair damp and curling at the ends, wearing that grey t-shirt you love on him. You’re too busy cooing at your cat to notice the way his eyes narrow slightly.

"She’s on you again?" he asks, drying his hair with a towel.

You glance up, smiling. "Of course. She loves this spot. Warm, soft, safe." You scratch behind the cat’s ears. She purrs louder.

Pedro lets out a short scoff and throws the towel over his shoulder. "Right. Warm, soft, safe. Not jealous at all."

You smirk. "Are you jealous of my cat?"

"No," he lies, way too fast. "I’m jealous of your chest. She gets more action than I do."

"Pedro!"

"I said what I said."

You giggle, shaking your head. Your cat lifts her head slightly, annoyed at the movement, and then settles right back down like the queen she is. Pedro watches the whole thing, arms crossed, pretending to be completely unbothered.

"Okay, but like," he starts, walking closer, "she gets cuddles all day. She gets to nap on you, make biscuits on your boobs, and I’m supposed to just sit here and respect that?"

"She’s a cat," you laugh. "You’re a grown man."

"A grown man who wants to lay on your chest too!"

You raise an eyebrow. "Do you want me to move her?"

He stares at the cat. The cat stares back, completely unfazed. It’s a silent standoff.

"...No. She was here first."

"Exactly."

He grumbles something in Spanish and flops dramatically onto the other side of the couch, clearly defeated. You reach over with your free hand and run your fingers through his hair.

"I promise you’ll get your turn. Once she’s done being queen of my torso."

Pedro sighs. "She’s always queen of your torso."

"I have room for two, you know," you tease, glancing down. "You could try laying your head here too."

His face lights up like a child at Disneyland. "Really?"

You nod. He shifts quickly, gently sliding your cat a few inches over (with some heavy negotiating), and finally settles his head on your chest — one arm slung over your waist, a content smile on his face.

The cat, now squished between the two of you, purrs louder than ever.

Pedro frowns. "...She’s still touching you."

"Pedro."

"Just saying. I’m in a three-way cuddle with a cat."

You laugh so hard your stomach shakes, and Pedro smiles against you, finally at peace — even if he is sharing.

(For now.)

---

[watchpoob]

Winter has arrived on Poob.

Start your 7 day free trial of Poob today, and watch smash hit Martin Scorcese's Goncharov.

[astars-things]

luke hughes x reader where reader has curly hair and teaches luke how to style his curls

"Luke, babe, what the fuck is going on with your hair?" you asked, your eyes wide as Luke walked into your shared room. His usually soft, bouncy curls were a tangled mess, sticking up at odd angles like they had a mind of their own.

 "I don't know" Luke pouted as he belly-flopped onto the bed, since you came into Lukes' life you had been doing his curls (call it the girlfriend effect) you thought he might have gotten the hang of it considering you have been dating him for nearly two years 

You crossed your arms, staring at the heap of limbs and curls sprawled across your bed. "Luke, what happened to the products I got you? The curl cream? The leave-in conditioner? Literally anything?"

He rolled onto his back, lips jutting out into a pout as he gave you full puppy-dog eyes. “I like it when you do my hair.” You let out a sigh "You're so dramatic, c'mon then" You said walking into the connecting bathroom and grabbing out everything you needed, you grabbed the small step stool for Luke to sit on 

Luke padded in a second later, shoulders hunched and a sheepish grin on his face. “You love me,” he teased, sitting on the stool like an overgrown child.

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Unfortunately.” You grabbed a small about of hair mask on your hands and ran your fingers gently through the mess on his head. Luke let out a small moan at the sensation of your fingers along his head 

"Mmm, see? This is why I wait for you." He let out leaning his head into your hands  "Laziness isn’t romantic, Hughes." you said as you left the hair mask to marinate in his hair 

"Yes it is," he argued  "It’s love. Deep, deep love." You rolled your eyes and set a timer on your phone, shaking your head as Luke leaned back against your thighs like he hadn’t a single care in the world. 

once the timer went off, Luke leaned over the bathtub so you could wash out the hair mask, "Is that too hot?" you asked Luke not really in a mood to burn Luke's head "No it is perfect" Luke mumbled fighting off sleep 

You dried his hair so it was slightly damp. Luke was nearly asleep on the step stool. You had to gently shake his shoulder to wake him, which earned you another dramatic groan.

"Being beautiful is exhausting," he muttered as you carefully sectioned his damp hair and worked the curl cream through each part. "Yeah, yeah," you chuckled, running the wide-tooth comb through slowly, to make sure the product was evenly throughout his hair 

Once you were done defining each curl, you scrunched them gently, using the diffuser to dry his hair little by little while he kept his eyes closed, humming under his breath like he was at a spa.

"All done," You said patting his back, you stretched your aching back and arms, letting out a small yawn as you wiped your hands on a towel. "cuddle and bedtime?" Luke asked to which you let out a hum and moved off into bed 

Luke followed closely behind, flicking off the last light and crawling in beside you with all the grace of a sleepy puppy. He instantly wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you close so your head rested on his chest. 

"Thanks for doing my hair," he mumbled into your hair, already half-asleep. You smiled against his chest. "Thanks for being helpless without me."

He chuckled, his laugh low and lazy. "No one else I’d rather be helpless for." 

[xierxo]

Dating Gregory House Headcannons ⋆ ࣪.

For context you work at the hospital. Not with him but like you’re around each other a fair bit.

- I think is a pretty obvious one but he wouldn’t act too affectionate towards you when you’re around the team together. But in private it’s quite different.

- Everyone already knows you’re dating. House makes it obvious sometimes as his eyes can’t seem to leave you, ultimately making it awkward for everyone in the room when he goes silent and gazes at you. It catches him off guard sometimes when you walk past his office window when he is discussing a case.

“The patient seems to have…”

“She’s outside isn’t she?”

- He doesn’t strike me as the affectionate type of boyfriend (or person really) but I see him placing his hand on your lower back a lot, or the middle of your shoulder blades. Mainly for support and reassurance sometimes because he feels comfortable with you.

- He pages you a lot just for fun to see if you’ll come see him. He does this kind of stuff a lot because he gets bored around the hospital, while avoiding Cuddy.

“What is it? What’s happened?”

“Nothing. I was bored.”

- When he's working in his office, he lets you sit on the edge of his desk, your legs dangling over the edge. He likes watching you like that, almost submissive in his eyes.

“What are you doing greg?”

“Just sit there and look pretty for me”

umm so this is my first time doing and let alone posting anything like this before so i’m scared. I hope yous like this lmao <3

@adaslvr thanks for helping me 👅

[pukefactory]

hi! since your requests are open, can I get general physical affection headcanons for ena (dream bbq ver) x reader, both salesperson and meanie side included?

•☽────✧˖°˖ PRIVATE CALLER ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Physical Affection Between Salesperson Ena And The Reader

★ Character(s): Salesperson Ena (Ena: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ Salesperson Ena doesn’t “hug” — she makes “strategic contact engagements.” She approaches you with arms wide and a grin like she’s about to close a million-dollar deal, saying things like, “May I offer you a very promising investment in serotonin?” Then she just—wraps around you. Entirely. Full-body hug. Her left hand, all mitten-soft, thumps your back rhythmically while her clawed right hand gently scratches circles into your shoulder. You’re not sure if you’re soothed or being recruited for a new religion. Possibly both.

☆ Ena only initiates affection when her mental battery is dying. You’ll find her slumped over the table, face squished sideways against your arm, hissing, “Don’t say a word. I’ve clocked out of this dumb dimension.” She doesn’t cuddle. She lodges into you like a cat who hates being seen but insists on being warm. If you move, she groans like the apocalypse is starting in her soul and mutters something about “abandonment” and “canceling her subscription to hope.”

☆ Salesperson kisses your forehead like she’s punching in a code. “Boop. Transaction complete. Thank you for your service.” Her affection is precise, oddly reverent, like you’re a sacred shrine she’s just filed paperwork for. When you fluster or look confused, she tilts her head, analyzing you like a graph. “Emotional spike detected. That was effective! Shall we scale it?”

☆ Meanie headbutts you instead of giving a normal kiss. She’ll stare at you for too long, twitch slightly, then slam her forehead against yours with a sudden THUNK. You blink. She glares. “I hate this… feeling… garbage. Get it off me. Or don’t. I don’t care.” But then she doesn’t move. She’s just there. Breathing hard. Head pressed to yours. Letting your heartbeat sync while her hands tremble in her lap.

☆ Salesperson will absentmindedly stroke your hand while talking business. She doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. Her mitten-hand gently presses and flattens your fingers like she’s ironing out doubt. Her clawed one traces lines over your palm, absent and curious. “Now, to circle back—how do you feel about long-term intimacy contracts? Quarterly cuddles? Optional bonus smooches?”

☆ Meanie gets touch-starved and denies it to death. She’s vibrating with repressed need, glaring at the wall, arms crossed. But if you put your hand on her back, she goes still. If you pull her into a hug, she stiffens—and then melts like she’s been tricked into comfort. “Don’t make this a thing,” she whispers. “I’m not weak. I’m not soft. I just—my spine broke. Shut up.”

☆ Salesperson slow dances with you in deserted rooms, even if there’s no music. “Let’s synchronize our trajectories,” she’ll whisper, and suddenly your hands are clasped and she’s spinning you like you’re in a ballroom run by surreal physics. Her body is warm against yours—half sharp, half soft. It feels ceremonial. Like a conference call with the divine. Like a thank-you for loving someone who’s always split in half.

☆ Meanie will bite your shoulder if you ignore her long enough. Not hard. Just a warning. A frustrated nibble with emotional teeth. You’ll gasp and she’ll snarl, “What?! I was being subtle! YOU’RE the needy one!” But she won’t move away. Instead, she burrows her face into your neck and mumbles about how you’re lucky she tolerates this much stupid affection.

☆ Salesperson kisses the top of your head while giving you verbal performance reviews. “You were incredibly brave today. Full marks for emotional endurance. Room for improvement in stress management. But don’t worry—this is a safe development zone. May I kiss you again?” It’s like being evaluated by a loving algorithm. You always say yes. You always will.

☆ Meanie will hold your face like it’s the last thing in the world that makes sense. When things go wrong, when the world cracks again, she finds you. Her pale yellow hands frame your cheeks with shaking intensity. Her forehead touches yours. Her voice drops to a whisper— “If you disappear, I’ll cause several economic disasters. Please don’t.” And when you tell her you’re not going anywhere, she doesn’t speak. She just pulls you into her lap and sits there, rocking you like she’s trying to cradle an entire unstable reality back into place.

[stxxrlights]

[cutielando]

she's all i wanna be 2.0 | lando norris

synopsis: in which you need some reassurance from your boyfriend

a/n: based on this request! this is basically another version of she's all i wanna be, but more focused on their conversation and Lando reassuring reader. it can be read as a standalone. i don't know if this what you had in mind, but i hope you still like it!!

pairing: lando norris x insecure!reader

my masterlist

The Monaco lights were shining brightly over the sleeping city, casting a cold glow on Lando's apartment.

He was yet to arrive home, having gone out with his team to a dinner bash with their sponsors.

Which meant that she was also there, while you were wallowing in your sweats and Lando's hoodie, wrapped up in your thoughts.

It was late, pushing almost 10:30 pm, and you were curled up on the couch with your arms wrapped tightly around your knees, a fluffy blanket draped over your shoulders.

You were staring at the floor, not taking in anything that was happening around you as the same thoughts swirled around in your mind over and over again.

She's so much better than me.

She's so much prettier than I could ever be.

She fits into his world much better than I ever would.

You deserve to be with someone like her, not someone like me.

We should break up.

She was effortless. Her perfect hair, her perfect body, her perfect confidence in herself. She fit right in Lando's world, right in with the people that Lando surrounded himself with, the kind of woman who would never doubt her place in his life.

You, on the other hand, felt like an outsider. A girl who somehow stumbled upon him and found herself in his orbit, unsure if you truly had a place in his life.

You didn't know where these thoughts were coming from. Lando had never given you a reason to think that he might be unfaithful or that he might want someone else other than you.

But how could you possibly believe that when people like her existed? How could believe that Lando would continue to choose you over anyone else when he was surrounded by women like her?

No, it wasn't possible. No matter how much you wanted to convince yourself that your thoughts were only that, thoughts.

You were so wrapped up in your own head that you hadn't even heard your phone go off with a message from Lando saying that he was on his way home, you didn't even hear the front door unlock and Lando getting home.

You were zoned out, somewhere far away from the place you currently were.

"Babe?" Lando called out as soon as he hung his coat in the hall and put his keys in the bowl next to the entrance door.

When he didn't hear anything, he started looking around the apartment, ultimately finding you in the living room, seemingly staring off into space.

"Y/N?" he called out once again, now much closer to you than he had been before.

No response.

Lando furrowed his eyebrows, concern slowly seeping into his body. He put down his phone and slowly kneeled in front of you, putting his hands on your knees and squeezing lightly.

"Y/N, love" he said, his voice now much quieter and careful.

You suddenly jerked back and came back to reality, your eyes looking around you confusedly for a second before landing on Lando, who was now rubbing soft and soothing circles on the skin of your knees.

"Hey, love. Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes desperately searching yours for an answer, an indication as to what was going on inside your head.

You swallowed, quickly contemplating whether it was worth bringing up the subject at all, but ultimately decided against it.

"Yeah, I'm fine" you said, attempting to give him a reassuring smile, but judging by the look on his face, you had failed miserably.

Lando sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

He knew you oftentimes tended to get lost inside of your own mind, and nothing good ever came of those times, but he knew better than to let the the issues go unspoken about.

Lando exhaled softly, shifting himself so he was sitting on the couch next to you. He took one of your hands in his, his grip tightening while his fingers weaved through yours.

"Love, you know you can talk to me about anything. What's going on with you?" he asked, his voice and tone still soft and kind.

You hated it when he would be like this, coaxing every trouble out of you almost naturally. He could read you like an open book, always being able to understand what you were feeling better than you could.

It sometimes scared you how well he knew you, but other times you loved him even more for it.

You exhaled loudly, squeezing your eyes tightly willing yourself not to break down and cry in front of him.

But your brain had other plans, and the words slip out anyway before you could even register what was happening.

"Why me, Lando?" the question was simple, yet it bare so much pain and self-doubt.

There is a brief pause in which neither of you spoke. You were holding your breath in anticipation, the burden of the question hanging gravely in the air, pressing against your chest heavily.

Meanwhile, Lando didn't know how to react or what to say. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to answer a question he didn't even understand whence it was coming from, but a question that seemed like it meant everything to you?

How?

"What do you mean, love?" he asked, his voice no louder than a whisper, but you could clearly hear the confusion behind his words.

Your throat tightened, your brain working overtime in order to find the right words to describe what you were feeling.

"I mean, there are so many girls out there," you started with a shaky breath, feeling the weight of every single insecurity settle over your body like a blanket. "Prettier girls, skinnier girls. Girls who fit into your world, who know how to properly handle all of this," you motioned vaguely towards the luxurious apartment in which you were currently residing, to the lifestyle that feels worlds away from what you're used to. "Girls who don't feel like they're constantly competing with someone else for your attention"

Lando's face softens instantly, his concern briefly replaced with a knowing of what was going on.

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, like he's afraid you might slip away from him at any moment.

"Competing?" he repeats, like the world itself physically pains him. "Baby, you don't ever have to compete with anyone"

"It doesn't feel that way" you said, letting out a humorless laugh while also shaking your head.

Lando shifts on the couch so that he's fully facing you, his hands sliding up to cup your face. His touch is impossibly gentle, thumbs stroking your cheekbones.

"You are it for me, Y/N. You are the only one I will ever want to share my life with" he murmurs, his voice full of so much sincerity it made your chest ache and tears fall down your cheeks.

"She's everything I'm not, Lando" you said, your lip wobbling and your voice cracking.

Lando lets out a soft breath, shaking his head.

"Good, because I don't want her. I only want you" he said, his tone so firm that, for a second, it caught you off guard.

You try to look away, but he wouldn't let you. His fingers lifted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, his green-ish eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration for you.

"I love you because you're not like everyone else, Y/N" he continues, his voice unwavering. "I love that you get nervous before my races and play with my bracelets when you're overthinking. I love the way your nose scrunches up when you don't like something, or the way you always make fun of me when I mess up on Tarkov" a small smile tugged at his lips, like he was remembering every moment as he spoke. "I love that you laugh at my dumb jokes when nobody else does. I love that you make me feel normal when the rest of my world is, well, insane"

A tear slipped down your cheek, but he caught it with thumb before it could fall too far.

"I love you" he murmured, like it's the easiest thing in the world for him. "Just you, always you. Just the way you are"

You let out a shaky breath, and his smile softens at that, if it could be possible.

"I love you too" you whispered, your voice soft and broken.

"Can you do something for me?" he asked, his voice now a soft whisper.

You hesitated for a second before ultimately nodding, albeit hesitantly.

"Stop comparing yourself to her, or anyone else for that matter. You don't see yourself the way I see you" he said gently.

"And how do you see me?" you asked, swallowing hard.

"As the best thing that's ever happened to me" he said, leaning in and pressing his forehead against yours.

A fresh wave of tears pricked at your eyes, but this time, they were not from doubt or sadness. They were from something much warmer, something softer that felt like love wrapping around your heart and squeezing you tightly.

Your arms looped around his neck, pulling him close to you. His scent, familiar and comforting, surrounded you as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding onto you like you were the most precious thing in the worls.

Which to him, you were.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, you know. You're stuck with me forever, whether you like it or not, might as well get used to it" he teased you, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

You huffed out a little laugh, the first real laugh of the night and in a very long time.

"Forever? You promise?" you asked, your voice small as your heart needed to hear it coming from his mouth, a vow that would bind himself to you for the rest of time.

"Forever" he confirmed, squeezing you even tighter against him. "And I'll spend every single second of it reminding you just how much I love and appreciate you"

And for the first time in what felt like a long time, you believed him.

Because you loved him more than anything, just like he loved you.

And maybe that was enough.

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REQUEST HERE

[nineteenninety-six]

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Dr Dad

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Daughter!Reader

AN: This was requested by anon and I struggled towards the end but I hope y'all enjoy. Also, I wrote a second part to chocolate bars and injuries but hated it completly, so i'm gonna have to rewrite it.

Also also, I had an idea of a mortician!reader but idk who to pair it with, i was thinking Dr Shen but i'd love suggestions.

TW!!: drugging, implied attempted r@pe, assualt , regular medical misinformation

Synopsis: Jack Abbot's worst nightmare comes true when he daughter arrives in the ED unconscious.

Jack Abbot's brows furrowed in confusion as his call to his daughter went to voicemail for the fifth time that evening, something extremely out of the ordinary. It had been just him and his daughter for years, ever since his wife had passed away years ago and they had an extremely strong bond, constant texting with at least one phone call a day.

When you went to college, you stayed close by, choosing a college in the city so you could remain at home and commute daily despite your fathers protests. He wanted you to experience dorm life and the typical college experience but you were steadfast in your choice. You liked living at home, it meant you didn't have to have a roommate or share a bathroom and even though he'll deny it, your dad was a very decent cook and you loved sharing meals with him, whether it be something either of you cooked or a takeaway. Besides you had a solid group of friends on campus, occasionally staying at theirs if you had gone to a party or an event and it was too late to come back home, so it wasn't as if you were missing out.

Whenever Jack did work nights, you usually called to check up around nine p.m but when no call buzzed his phone, Jack became worried but he couldn't dwell on it as an emergency came through the door, occupying his time for a few hours. So when he tried to call you the next free moment he got and it rang unanswered until it reached your voicemail, a pit forms in his stomach. 

"What's wrong?" Bridget, the night shift charge nurse asked, noticing Jack's expression.

Jack updates her with what has happened, "She hasn't called me and she's not answering her phone…this never happens."

"It's friday night, maybe she went out?" Bridget offers.

Jack shakes his head, "She would tell me, she always does and her friends have my number in case of emergencies, if she can't message me then they will."

Bridget gives him a comforting pat on his shoulder knowing how protective and how worried he gets about his doubt and no words she could say would ease his stress and the only person who could, is his daughter.

Then the phone goes off and Bridget answers it, taking the information with experienced ease before she hangs up and relays the information to everyone around, preparing them for the incoming patient.

"We've got a young woman, early twenties, found unconscious on the street with a head lac. ETA is three minutes."

Dr Shen looks over at Jack and notices how he's still worried about his daughter and so offers to take the new patient which Jack gratefully accepts before he seeks privacy by the lockers. 

After another failed phone call to you, Jack is one press away from calling one of your friends when he hears Bridget yelling his name and he quickly returns to doctor mode and rushes over to her, snapping a pair of gloves on.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"The new patient," Bridget is almost breathless, "It's your daughter. She's in South seven."

Jack is gone in a blink of an eye, stethoscope bouncing on his chest as he rushes to the room and bursting into the room with a bang, startling Dr Shen and the nurses but he pays them no attention as he makes his way to your bedside, gentle hands cradling your face.

"What the hell happened?" Jack looks around for answers.

"We've ordered scans and tests but the head lac seems straightforward enough, it'll need staples." Dr Shen informs him but it doesn't ease the weight on his chest.

"I'll get a rush on it" Jack nods as he reaches for the phone in the room.

Jack stewed in anger as he sat by your bedside, waiting for you to finally wake up. The results of the tests they sent for had him shaking in anger and demanding for the police.

You had been drugged.

All Jack could do is clench his jaw and fist as he waited for you to finally wake. He wanted the name of the person who had done this to his daughter and he became even more incensed when he realised that the legal punishment for this would never be enough.

Shuffling from your bed brings Jack out of his head and he stands up, leaning over the rail watching as you slowly wake up, blinking confusedly at your surroundings.

"Wha…"

Jack reaches over and takes your hand in his, "Hey honey, it's me. You're at the hospital but you're fine, you're safe here.  I'm taking care of you, don't worry."

"...Dad?"

"Yeah it's me honey"

You grip your father's hand tightly as you try to arrange your scattered thoughts, "What happened? Why am I here?"

"That's what I want to know honey." Jack soothes you, "They found drugs in your system, they made you unconscious. Did you go out to a bar? Maybe someone spiked your drink? Are you not using those test strips I gave you?"

"I didn't go to the bar." You blinked at the rapid set of questions your dad threw at you, "I was at the library, someone from one of my classes asked to study together."

 Jack's frown deepens, "What happened?"

"He came up to me after class and asked to study together-"

"And you agreed?! You can't just hang out with strangers." Jack's fierce overprotectiveness reared its head.

"It's finals week soon and this course is hard, having study partners isn't out of the ordinary" You huff at your dad, not liking the blaming tone.

"Honey, I've told you-"

"It's not my fault!" You snap, tears in your eyes, "He offered to grab us coffee and what did you expect me to do huh?"

"Oh fuck-" Jack closed his eyes, trying to calm himself, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, kid. Of course it wasn't your fault, I just want to find this fucker"

"How was I supposed to know?" You sob, your emotions hitting you all at once, "I wasn't planning on staying late, I told him that and he said he'll get me a coffee as a thank you. Once I felt the effects, I tried to leave but I was so dizzy, I think I fell somewhere, that's what gave me the head injury."

"He must have run once he saw you, but it's okay, the cops will be here soon and you can tell them when they arrive," Jack wipes your tears, "What's the guy's name?"

You furrow your brows as you try to remember the name, "Chris…Chris something. I can't remember but it's on my phone."

Your phone had been in your pocket when you had been found and placed with your clothes to the side after you had been changed into a hospital gown. Your father quickly passed it to you, watching closely as you unlocked it and brought up your text messages, quickly finding Chris' details.

"Chris Baker." Jack murmurs, reading the phone before turning to you and locking your phone, "You've gone through alot tonight, you should get some more rest."

You're reluctant to let go of his hand, squeezing tightly,"Can…can you stay?"

Dr Shen steps in at that moment, overhearing your question and before Jack can answer, he does.

"You can stay, we'll just yell when we need your help" Dr Shen laughs.

You laugh as well, easing Jack's worried frown but man still sends a glare at the younger doctor.

"You can't shirk your attending duties dad," You laugh again, taking a jab at your father, waving goodbye as Dr Shen left after noting your vitals.

"Alright," Jack presses a kiss to the top of your head, "Get some rest. I love you honey-bun."

You settle back into the hospital bed, eyes fluttering close "I love you too dad."

[potchi-fics]

tw; amab sevika, pussydrunk sevika, shimmer (used)

       you hate it when sevika uses shimmer, truly. you know how bad and addicting it can get, so whenever sevika uses it, you give her the silent treatment, all the while still babying her. on the other hand, shimmer would get her so horny: she’d drool at the thought of you, dick would be so hard, it’ll be straining against her pants, she’d be fucking braindead.

all she would think about is eating your pussy out, muttering out pleas for you to sit on her face, suffocate her, and that she’d rather go out that way. honestly. you could be patching her up, and her fingers would sneak under your shorts and push your panties to the side just so that she can play with your clit and fuck you knuckle-deep.

of course, you would try to stop her—but she wouldn’t really care, more like, she wouldn’t be able to hear you because then again, she’s braindead and pussydrunk.

“sev—fuck, stop putting your fingers in me and let me take care of you.” you grumble while wrapping a bandage around her torso, choking back a gasp when you feel her curl her fingers, hitting that spongy wall. “oh my god.”

sevika ignores you, continuing fucking you with her fingers, urging you to take her cock out, “c’mon, doll. i need you. take my dick out, mamas.”

resisting the pleasure, you bite your lower lip and hastily finish binding her torso. you squint your eyes in anger at her before reaching down to unbutton her pants and fish her dick out.

“look at my dick, doll, got me leaking already.” she gives you a particular harsh thrust that has your toes curling, “you do this to me, doll. fucking love you and your pussy so much. touch me, baby, touch my dick.”

her eyes are faintly glowing with purple, along with the scars on her jaw all the way down to her bionic arm.

she’s hyper right now. with the way she’s fucking you; uncoordinated and harsh, she’s wild.

you squeeze her twitching dick, emitting a groan from her. god, she’s so sensitive for you, “sh-shut up, you’re such an asshole.”

“sit on my face, mamas.” your pussy clenches when you hear that, “fuck, doll. you like that? yeah? you wanna sit on my face? c’mon, doll. sit on my f’cking face. need you–need your pussy so much.” you rub your thumb on her tip, smirking in victory when her hips buck to chase more of your touch—that got her pleading more. “please, doll. sit on my f’cking face. need you–need your pussy so much.”

      you utter the words she dreads.

“i don’t think so, baby.”

[purple-plum-petals]

Homicipher request for the Homicipher starved fans pls? 🥺 Is it okay to ask for the reactions of Mr. Silvair, Mr. Chopped(as he gets wheeled past us on a cart after being kidnapped, again), Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, and Mr. Scarletella with a reader who winks and blows a kiss as they pass by them? Like for some reason reader seems to be in a really good mood and they're skipping around with their trusty crowbar in hand then they see one of the boys then mwa~💋. I can imagine that they'd be confused at the unfamiliar gesture but I'd like to get your thoughts on it. 😂

⊱ Homicipher Characters’ Reactions to MC Winking at Them and Blowing Them a Kiss ⊰ || Multiple Character Headcanons

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Character(s): Mr. Silvair, Mr. Chopped, Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, and Mr. Scarletella (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (MC’s Lore), Brief Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (Mr. Machete’s Part), Canon-typical Horror Elements (Mr. Gap and Mr. Scarletella's Parts), Cultural Barriers (None of Them Understand the Gesture). Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Platonic or Romantic Relationship Word Count: ~1,880 Request: “Homicipher request for the Homicipher starved fans pls? 🥺 Is it okay to ask for the reactions of Mr. Silvair, Mr. Chopped(as he gets wheeled past us on a cart after being kidnapped, again), Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, and Mr. Scarletella with a reader who winks and blows a kiss as they pass by them? Like for some reason reader seems to be in a really good mood and they're skipping around with their trusty crowbar in hand then they see one of the boys then mwa~💋. I can imagine that they'd be confused at the unfamiliar gesture but I'd like to get your thoughts on it. 😂” Author’s Note: They all would definitely be confused by the unfamiliar gesture, so I kind of did headcanons about how each of them would react to you blowing them a kiss/how they would go about trying to understand what the gesture meant by using context clues (or just straight-up asking you about it haha). Sorry if they’re not great! I’m still trying to figure out how I want to balance the characters’ personalities as they are in canon while adding some more fun/whimsical aspects of your ask.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

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💉: He smiles softly at your cheerful demeanor, yet it falters slightly when you press the tips of your fingers to your lips and squeeze one of your eyes shut in response to him looking in your direction. You remove your fingers from your pursed lips and blow out a puff of air before continuing in the direction you had been walking towards. While he could infer you were in a good mood by your body language, he was curious to know what exactly the gesture meant. 

💉: Instead of lightly treading the question or observing you for any longer to see if he could figure out what the gesture meant by using context clues, Mr. Silvair instead just asks you directly to get an answer as soon as possible the next time he sees you. He deeply enjoyed research and observation, yes, but there was no need to wait to gather information when you were a perfect source of it. 

💉: Of course, it wasn’t easy to explain what “blowing a kiss” was, especially since they didn’t even have equivalent words in their language for “blow” or “kiss,” but you tried your best with what you had to work with. It’s almost funny how earnestly Mr. Silvair is hanging onto every word you speak. He chuckles after you finish explaining, amused by the gesture and its meaning – how quaint, he thinks to himself. 

💉: He found humans to be fascinating and their diverse cultures even more so, so he was of course interested in learning whatever you were able to recall from your previous life in your old realm before you ended up in this one. He treats everything you tell him with an air of respect, and he even documents what you share with him so he (and you) never forget that part of yourself. 

💉: Mr. Silvair finds the gesture to be an entertaining one, but deducts that it’s not usually one humans do with strangers or those they are not comfortable with from your explanation. Does that mean you are comfortable enough around him to express yourself in that manner? How fascinating... Do you care to tell him why you feel the way you do toward him? He’s very much interested in learning the reasoning behind your thought processes. 

🗣️: Mr. Chopped smiles so widely when he sees you in such a chipper mood, making your way down the hall with a noticeable spring in your step. He likes seeing you happy, so it makes him feel good, too, watching you skip by with such a bright expression on your face! Then, you press your hand to your lips and wink, blowing something he couldn’t see in his direction, and suddenly he’s confused. 

🗣️: Huh… well, that was strange. For some reason, though, the playful gesture seemed almost familiar, yet he couldn’t remember why. He can’t exactly chase after you and ask what that meant, so he’d have to wait until the next time he saw you (which he hoped wouldn't be a long wait – he liked spending time with you). 

🗣️: The next time he saw you, he asked if you could explain what the gesture meant. You did the best you could, but you’re pretty sure he comprehended what you were telling him if the giddy expression on his face was anything to go by. His excitement was quite adorable. However, his expression suddenly falls, and you watch him begin to sulk. How was he supposed to blow you a kiss in return? He didn’t have a body!! The poor man is so distraught. 

🗣️: He gets either Mr. Silvair to help him out or Mr. Hand to, well… give him a hand to enact his plan. The next time you see him, he calls out to you with such a delighted look on his face. So, you make your way over to him and kneel down to his level, watching as the sentient hand comes up to Mr. Chopped’s lips, making the same gesture you did, before he blows you a kiss and winks. He did it! He blew you a kiss!! 

🗣️: Mr. Chopped is very proud of himself and the pleased expression on his face is far too charming for you. He feels a warmth in his metaphorical chest knowing that you felt comfortable enough with him to blow him a kiss, especially since it seems like something humans do with those they are most comfortable with. 

🕳️: He’s honestly somewhat impressed you knew he was there, observing you through the small hole in the wall while you walk around like you’re on top of the world. He can’t help but wonder what happened that has you so chipper, but his thoughts are derailed a bit when you press your hand to your mouth and blow something at him, closing one of your eyes as you do so… What the hell was that?? 

🕳️: He feels somewhat offended, honestly, and gets that semi-disgusted look on his face before disappearing into the darkness. Mr. Gap understands it’s some kind of weird human gesture, but he can’t really put two-and-two together about what it means. Though, he finds himself continuing to watch you from any nook-and-cranny he could find, observing you to see if you would do the gesture again – you don’t.

🕳️: Mr. Gap ends up startling you while you’re walking down a long, grimy hallway, his hand darting out from a vent to grab your ankle. His grip isn’t tight, but it most certainly scares the life out of you and effectively catches your attention. He finds your scare amusing but ends up cutting straight to the point and asks you why you blew something at him. 

🕳️: Even after explaining what the gesture meant, Mr. Gap still doesn’t fully understand why you did it, so you just tell him it was supposed to be a nice gesture that showed you enjoyed him – playful. That is something he does understand, and it’s almost amusing how the smirk on his face grew. He must be special, he thinks, and his smugness is radiating from his face peeking out of the darkness. 

🕳️: Mr. Gap doesn’t do the gesture back, but he strangely enough finds himself hoping you don’t blow anyone else your kisses. He doesn’t know why the thought of you sharing the gesture with another annoys him a little bit – after all, it wouldn’t make it special anymore if you did it with everyone. He even begins bringing you things, like more crowbars or even pieces of candy he finds lying around. It’s almost like he’s trying to bribe you…

🔪: He sees you happily skipping around and finds himself having to do a double-take at the strange sight. It wasn’t a bad sight, not at all, it was just weird seeing you so bright and lively. However, his mind buffers a bit when you look at him, pursing your lips and giving him a wink before your fingertips press to your mouth and then flick towards him. 

🔪: Mr. Machete is immediately annoyed, not knowing what the gesture meant, and he assumes you were trying to pick a fight with him. So, he takes his large sword and reels it back, throwing it at you with a strength that still had your eyes boggling. You duck with a yelp as the sword implants itself into the wall behind you. 

🔪: He makes his way over to you with incredible speed, blocking your body between his and the wall as he looks down at you, his head tilted to the side as he asks you if you wanted to fight him. Mr. Machete finds your frustrated expression endearing as you tell him the gesture was meant to be playful and fun. He’s low-key kind of disappointed you didn’t want to fight, but he steps away from you after your explanation without another word. 

🔪: However, while looking down at your angry expression, Mr. Machete suddenly has the urge to squeeze you (I imagine he experiences cuteness aggression regarding you). So, he reaches down and squeezes your cheeks between his large and calloused hand, causing your lips to purse. Even though you hadn’t been in the mood to fight him, now you were. He smirks widely as you two begin to spar all because he misconstrued what your gesture meant. 

🔪: Mr. Machete doesn’t see the point of blowing kisses, and he doesn’t feel any particular way about the gesture. It’s kind of whatever for him, even though he does notice that you don’t seem to do it with anyone else. After the first time (that ended up leading to a spar), though, he notices you hadn’t blown him another kiss since… He ends up coming up to tell you in his gruff, almost rude way, that he wouldn’t mind if you did it again. 

🩸: He tilts his head to the side at the gesture, his shaggy red hair swaying with the movement. Well… that was new, he thinks. He liked you quite a bit (far more than just a bit, really… my man is kind of obsessed with you), and he had been following you throughout your entire journey in this realm, yet he had never once seen that expression or gesture from you before. Now, he was curious to know what it meant, and he was going to try and figure it out one way or another.  

🩸: He continues to keep his eye on you, following you as you go about your day. Mr. Scarletella likes seeing you so chipper and full of life, especially considering you were someone who tended to take life from others. The dichotomy between your behavior and actions had his heart racing. However, despite what he expected, you never did the gesture again. So, he couldn’t gather information by observing you – he would need to simply ask you directly, then. 

🩸: Mr. Scarletella effectively manages to corner you after some time, catching you completely off-guard. While you two had certainly started off on the wrong foot, you had gotten to the point where you were relatively calm and comfortable around the strange man who was so incredibly down bad for you. He gazes down at you with his lifeless eyes, inquiring about the gesture you made earlier. 

🩸: You explain to him what the gesture meant for you, that you were simply in a good mood and felt a little bit playful at the moment when you blew him a kiss. Mr. Scarletella smiles at your words, feeling very pleased with the information. So, it meant you liked him, correct? It meant you felt comfortable enough to express your happiness towards him in such a way, right?

🩸: Well, you inadvertently ended up making him even more obsessed with you, and now his feelings become even stronger every time you blow him a kiss. Mr. Scarletella finds the act an interesting way to express your interest and enjoyment of another being, so he begins to blow you his own kisses in return. He is one of the characters I feel would want to learn more about human customs to deepen his relationship with you even if he doesn’t fully grasp why some gestures mean certain things. 

[lazysoulwriter]

heatwave - pedro pascal.

requested! hope you like it, hun! - requested are open.

--

The power had gone out sometime around midnight. No warning, no storm. Just a loud click and then darkness swallowing the apartment whole.

You didn’t panic. But you did curse the cold air creeping in from the cracked window and the sudden silence of the heater that had been humming in the background all evening.

Pedro cursed too, though much softer, more to himself than anything.

“Figures,” he muttered, rubbing his hands together as he stood near the window. The city outside was quiet, dusted in that eerie stillness that only came when the power cut the noise.

You stood in the doorway, wrapped in a thin blanket, watching him.

“You have, like… zero candles,” you teased, voice low.

He turned, eyebrows raised. “I wasn’t planning on summoning a demon tonight.”

You smirked. “Shame. We could’ve kept warm that way.”

Pedro’s laugh came warm and low, but his eyes didn’t leave you. “There are other ways,” he said, voice like a dare.

You blinked. Once. Twice. And then walked slowly past him, barefoot on the wooden floor, until you stood right in front of him.

“So,” you said, glancing up at him through your lashes. “Wanna share body heat?”

Pedro’s lips twitched. “That a scientific proposal?”

You shrugged, dropping the blanket. “It’s practical. Efficient. Environmentally conscious.”

His breath hitched, just barely, but you caught it. He looked you over, slowly. Not with hunger—but with reverence. And maybe a bit of tension in his jaw.

“You’re gonna freeze,” he said, voice raspier now.

“I trust you to keep me warm.”

That did it.

He reached for you in the next second, hands sliding over your waist, your back, up your spine until his arms were fully wrapped around you. He was warm—unfairly so. Like he’d been storing heat for this exact reason.

“You smell like cinnamon,” you whispered against his chest.

“I made tea,” he murmured, nuzzling your hair. “You didn’t want any.”

“Because I wanted you.”

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eye. That look—that slow, deliberate scan of your face—made your skin buzz.

“No teasing tonight,” he said, voice low.

“Who’s teasing?”

Your fingers slid beneath the hem of his T-shirt, palms against his bare skin, and he hissed softly.

“Cold hands,” he muttered, but didn’t stop you.

“You’ll warm them up,” you said, rising onto your toes.

And when your lips met his, everything else vanished. The cold. The darkness. The broken heater. All of it melted under the press of his mouth, the grip of his fingers on your thighs, the sharp pull of need that seemed to have been simmering all day, just waiting for a blackout and an excuse.

He lifted you without warning, as if you weighed nothing, walking you to the couch like he’d done it a hundred times. You didn’t stop kissing. Didn’t stop touching. His body was a furnace, and you clung to him like he was oxygen.

“This,” he breathed against your neck, “is my favorite kind of science.”

You laughed, breathless, and pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth.

“Then prove your thesis, professor.”

Pedro grinned—messy, wicked, warm.

“Oh, I plan to.”

--

[joelmillermylove]

I need a Joel Miller type of man, that is maybe a little too protective over me. He has just a hint of silver in his hair, the cutest smile, broad shoulders and smells like leather, whiskey and oak. He’s grumpy and intimidating but with me he’s sweet and gentle. That’s what I want.