#had fun writing this but trying to think of a good reason for the contract was a bit tough

[taki-yaki]

The Chains That Bind Us

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Word Count:785 Part 2

After refusing the ascendant's gift of immortality, he seeks to keep you bound to him, even if a pact has to be made to do so. (Tw: Minor mention of blood, unwilling one-sided contract?)

As promised here is more in-depth writing about Tav becoming an undead warlock with A!Astarion as the patron.

For the Tav in this, they are already a warlock with an Archfey but you can insert whichever patron you see fit.

After you parted ways from the vampire ascend, after the defeat of the nether-brain, you thought that was the last you'd hear of him. You refused his "gift" of immortality in exchange for keeping your humanity.

Until one day you returned for a reunion party with your companions at Baldur's gate to be hosted by the vampire lord in his palace. 

5 years have passed since then, surely he wouldn't have any lingering feelings for you after so long, he said that he already had everything he wanted when you left him.

Upon arriving at the palace, Astarion takes you aside to discuss about some politics with you.

Accepting his offer naively thinking that you were nothing more than old comrades nowadays despite your past.

Entering the small office space, you see a large pile of papers sitting on the centre table, they give off a necrotic aura, and the quick glace makes you think it's a contract with Mephistopheles.

He points towards the papers, an offer, a way to be with him still, staying as a mortal and allowing you to still venture around Faerun. Be finally free from the mischief that your fey patron causes you in day-to-day life. Refuse and it will be the last you ever see of your companions.

A simple offer he's sure that you can't refuse and he knows. Either walk away now and betray your companions or accept being forced to give up your old contract and accept the whims of your new patron.

Frantically flicking through the pages of the contract, looking for any sort of technicality in the binding that can be used to your advantage is useless. Every single possible loophole or trick has been closed off to you. 

Devastation fills you, but you shouldn't feel surprised, after all, he was a magistrate over two centuries ago. Such legally binding faults must be accounted for at all costs.

 Leaving you with only one choice, you sign the contract, your name written in blood upon the rotting paper.

As you feel the last soft fey giggle in the distance fade away from you, the sudden emptiness is felt before the power of necrotic magic wraps around you, in body and soul, bound to your new patron as the contract demands.

He treats you well within his palace, a whole personal suite to yourself and serves only the finest food that the whole of Faerun has to offer. But why would a vampire ascendant want to make a pact with a mortal in the first place?

 A vampire lord can't start a war with another so easily, besides it just gives them a bad publicity image. So why not send the hero of Baldur's gate to kill them, no one would bother to think twice as much.

Most tasks given by him are either to scout on the local gossip of high nobles in the city or to destroy any minor uprisings against the vampire lord, whether it is a few monster hunters to stray vampire spawn, they must be rid of at any cost, in fear of what the punishment would be for disobeying.

The power that a vampire ascend can offer to a warlock is far greater than that of a lord.

Manifesting the ascendant's dreadful power through your form of dread, not only makes you immune to being frightened so easily but changes slight parts of your physical body undergoes temporary transformation. Once dull canines now sharp enough to bite your tongue out, nails that could claw through any foe, sharp and ready to strike. You swear that your eyes glow in a deep shade of red.

Although this transformation makes you wince in pain the first few times, after a while you adjust to it reluctantly.

As your pact grows stronger with him, you start to notice small changes on your body. 

The touch of the sun is no longer a gentle glow that rests on your skin, but now carries a light sting on your flesh. It never leaves a mark but the pain lingers. 

The slight of blood makes your mouth water, thoughts running wild of what type of flavour each one would bring, but never giving in to the impulsion.

Glances of your reflection in the mirror would never be solid, always dancing between the fine lines of translucently.

You know keep down that you can't kill him yourself, as the contract stated "Should thou harm thou pact owner, shall be made into spawn". As if the bond isn't having that effect on you already. A slow but manageable pain.

All you can hope is that one day someone will rise up and finally free you from these chains.

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

Hope you guys liked this, I still have a few extra ideas that I couldn't put here cause this post would be a lot longer. But if you guys want a part 2, I'll be happy to serve.

[papaya-twinks]

hey, I don’t know if you take requests atm so feel free to ignore it because I have a pretty long request, but I just wanted to tell you that I love your writing!!

I was bored today and kept daydreaming when I got this idea for a request, feel free to change some things if you want:)

Idea is, the two were dating for a while, like a year or so, and they broke up because they wanted to persuade their own dreams, him winning a wdc and her being in med school to become a doctor. But during their relationship, Lando always dragged her into the gym with him, so she kind of got a contract with the gym for like 2 years idk. After their breakup she kept going to that gym, because she didn’t want to let her money go to waste. One day working out, a guy came up to her and tried to help her, getting close and supporting her. She saw Lando was watching them and kept going because she knew that would get him jealous. After her workout session in the changing rooms obv, she wanted to get unready etc. and Lando came in. Some enemies to lovers banter, so that he ends up pushing her against the wall in the shower and one thing leads to another and they have sex. At the end they settle for another round in his apartment and end up getting back together.

Atp feel free to do whatever you want and whatever you’re comfortable with!

Kind of like break up then seeing each other again leading to hate/anger sex, semi public sex, jealous sex

Kisses <3

Warnings: Smut, 18+ angst, praise, hot!sex, shower!sex, swearing, hate!sex, degradation, slut-shaming

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - I’m sorry this took so long but omg this is such a good request!! xxxx

You had loved Lando. Of course you had, he had been an amazing boyfriend, but it wasn’t your dream to stay in a garage and watch him from afar, achieving his own dreams. And it wasn’t his dream to watch you go to med school and waste all his talent away.

The breakup had hurt. Absolutely, it had been painful letting go of a man you’d loved since you were in high school, but you both had destinies somewhere else, and if you couldn’t do it with the other by your side, then so be it.

“Yeah, I’m just heading to the gym right now,” you said, pulling on your hoodie as you spoke to your best friend, Maria, over the phone. “Jesus, didn’t Lando drag you there every day?” she asked, as you rolled your eyes, tying your hair into a ponytail.

“Yeah, I still have the stupid membership,” you grumbled, “I’m gonna finish it, then not renew it,” you said, picking up your gym bag, and grabbing your bottle. “Alright, well, you have fun,” she smiled, as you muttered a small ‘bye’ before hanging up.

You’d chosen some cute little pink sports bra and a matching pair of tight leggings, it was easier for you to work out in something like that. You walked into the gym, scanning your membership as you did so, god knows why you’d opted for the two year membership.

It had been a little bit ambitious of you to have gotten a membership, hoping you’d be together for that long, but at the time it seemed reasonable. At the time, it seemed like it could happen, and it wasn’t just a thought that you had.

You were standing by the mirror, holding a couple weights, trying to think of anything but how Lando would stand behind you to make sure you were okay, or how you’d share his bottle with him when you forgot your own…fuck.

It hurt. It hurt so much that you couldn’t be with him, that you’d had to watch his races through a fucking television and not with him, to show your support and how much you loved him. You still loved him. But did he still love you? You’d never know the answer to that.

“Hey, you need some help?” a voice made you look up, a guy, with a half smile on his face. God, you need a distraction from Lando anyways. “Can you spot me??” you asked, as he nodded, setting his shit down and placing his hands on your waist to move you back a bit.

Lando didn’t know why he hadn’t cancelled his membership. He was a millionaire, he could afford to lose a few thousand, but returning to the same place, every single day, at the same time, it felt like a natural part of him that he simply couldn’t go without.

Like a life source, almost needed to him as much as air was needed to him. Almost as much as you were needed to him. But he had a break between his triple header, so it had been a month after you both broke up, but he was back in his game.

That stupid pink set… why did he buy it for you? And why did he gave to see some girl in that same set with a guy helping her lift, who looked a lot like you…wait…

No way. Lando would’ve thought you’d cancelled the membership or something. He remembered the look on your face when he’d said he couldn’t do it anymore, the way your gorgeous eyes had shimmered with tears…he’d never forget that.

But seeing you here now, another man touching you, that’s what made him snap. “I’m gonna grab the rest of my shit, you go the showers,” the guy smiled to you. Way too friendly for Lando’s liking. “Hey,” he said, his voice sullen as he approached you.

“He- oh, uh, hi Lando,” you said, your face visibly falling as Lando narrowed his eyes. “Who’s that guy? You got a boyfriend?” he said, not even caring where he was going as he followed you. “No,” you said, your reply short and sharp. What right did Lando have to do this?

“You don’t get the right to act like-,” you started, but Lando cut you off, his voice sharper and harsher than you expected. “I don’t care what rights I have, I know them very well, thanks,” he said bitterly as you rolled your eyes, hanging up your bag in your locker.

“Still wear this, then?” he said, running a finger along the under band of your bra, your shoulders tensing. “Stop,” you batted his hand away as he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Why have you moved on so quickly, hm?” he asked, “what, you’re that desperate for a cock?”.

“Oh don’t even,” you scoffed, “don’t make out like I’m a slut or what we,” you snapped, “you left my life, I have every right to move on from you, you left me!”. Lando’s jaw went slack, his eyes darkening. “I left you, yeah?” he said, your body jumping as he pushed your softly, back against the wall of the shower, locking the door.

“We agreed to move on!” he snapped, his voice louder than he intended. “Oh please, don’t act like you haven’t slept with anyone since then!” you said, equally as loud, taking his by surprise. “Why?” he said, his voice dropping of all its hate and and anger.

“Why do you look prettier without me, Y/N?”. That made you freeze. “What the hell does that mean?” you said, voice shaking shaking. “You look good, just as good. If not better,” he said, slowly letting his eyes trace your body. “Why did you move on so quickly?” his voice raised once more.

“Maybe you’re right!” you yelled, “maybe I do want cock, is that so bad?”. Lando clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together almost painfully. “You want cock, yeah?” he said, “well I’ll give it to you,”. You were about to open your mouth to protest when his hand quite literally tore your sports bra off.

“Lando!” you hissed, the materials falling off your body in two pieces. “I bought it, I can rip it,” he said, dipping his head to press wet kisses to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive spots, the ones he knew perfectly well, the ones he was so well accustomed to…

“I’ll buy it for you in every fucking colour if you do just shut the fuck up,” he snapped, nipping at your neck, finding a point along your collarbone, and sucking down on it, a moan leaving your lips as he held you against the cold wall of the shower.

He moved his hands down to the waist band of your leggings, a moan on your lips as he traced your wet folds through your panties. “Lando, fuck,” you gasped, hands clawing at his back softly, your nails digging into his skin as you tore his shirt off.

“You’re just fucking dick desperate, Y/N,” Lando scoffed, pulled his own joggers down, his cock springing hard against his abdomen as he moved your panties to the side, pumping his finger in and out of you, no care to go slower, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit.

“Couldn’t even last a month without crawling back like a desperate little slut,” he laughed, the sound cold and belittling, as you whined, his throbbing head pushing your folds apart, running over your aching bundle of nerves, teasing your entrance.

“Say you want it, Y/N,” he said, his head dipping down once more to run over the love bite he left on your neck, his cock slipping into you. “Oh fuck, Lan,” you gasped, your hands tightening over his biceps, nails scratching at his skin as he groaned.

“Tight as ever,” he said, holding himself inside of you, running a hand over the bump in your tummy. “Fuck, it’s like you’re made for me,” he said, slowly pulling out of you, leaving his head hanging inside of you as your cunt clenched again, tightening round his tip as he wrapped a hand round your neck.

His veins flexed as he slowly moved his hips, shifting the tempo til he was ploughing through your folds, your moans becoming louder and louder, eyes rolling as he held you against the wall. You hadn’t really gone a whole month without sex whilst dating Lando, so it didn’t take long for your orgasm to build up.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, your heat enveloping his thigh member, the vein on the underside throbbing against your entrance, your breaths coming out short and sharp. “I’m gonna cum, Lando,” you gasped, one of his hands moving to your hair, the other rubbing across your clit.

“God, do it,” he said, your eyes squeezing shut as you both gasped, his thrusts becoming sloppy and your pussy clenching as your orgasm flushed, your thighs painted with thick ropes of cum, your body shaking. “We’re not done,” he said, his hand in your neck.

You whimpered, accepting the hoodie he thrust at your chest, pulling it over your head as you let him grab your hand, dragging you out of the changing room. The guy from earlier just watched as you were dragged away, grumbling under his breath about ‘bitches changing their minds’.

By the time you had come back to the apartment, it had barely changed, but the one place you were most acquainted with, aka, Lando’s bed, looked even more appealing than it ever had. “Lando,” you gasped as he dropped you onto your back, your body bouncing.

“Turn over,” he said, teeth gritted together as you nodded, your body bent over the edge of the mattress as he lifted the hoodie. “Always looked good in my shit,” he said, pushing his cock into you once more. “Oh god,” you gasped, your eyes rolling as he held himself in you again.

“Missed this, hm?” he asked, “still come to that stupid gym, all because of you,” he growled. “What?” you asked, just about managing to say the words without moaning, one of his hands pushing you it not he mattress, the sound of his hips snapping into yours echoing round the room.

The sound of his cock plunging into your wet heat, over and over again, it was filthy, your eyes rolling at the sound of it, Lando’s jaw going slack. “Can’t not go to that place when I used to take you there all the time,” he said, “you’d look so good…”.

“Can’t believe we never fucked there when we were dating,” he said, and all you could respond with was a moan as he toyed with your clit once more. “Missed you so bad,” he said after a few seconds, his lips parted with need and pleasure.

“Missed y-you too,” you choked out, your cunt clenching round him as you felt your second orgasm build up, the bump in your tummy prominent from his cock, thick and long inside of you. “Need you back,” you gasped, your hands helping your body to balance.

“Yeah? I want you too,” he said, leaning down to press surprisingly soft kisses to your neck and collarbone, as you whimpered. “Lando, please,” you moaned, “d-don’t say that,”. He frowned, his hips slowing down, not enough to deny your orgasm, but to make you focus on him.

“Why?” he asked, tilting your chin to look at him. “Don’t get my hopes up,” you said, body rocking as he frowned. “Y/N, I want you back,” he said, “truthfully, I want you back. We do long distance, I’ll visit after every race,” he said, almost pleading with you.

“W-We can talk about it,” you said, your cunt clenching round his thick member as your orgasm flushed through, Lando’s body lined with a sheen of sweat, his cheeks painted red as he slowed down, pulling out of you, his cum shooting along your thighs as you panted.

Fuck, you needed him back.

[rewrittenwrongs]

Having thoughts about the League of Assassins. It’s pretty common among them to form hierchy/ranking around who’s a better fighter and who beat/killed who. I can’t remember if it’s canon but I like the idea that to prove your teacher has taught you all they have to teach you must kill them (not sure how that applies to history/math/whatever but. Moving on.) Working off of that idea, a lot of assassins in the organisation would already respect Tim for causing the death/defeat of the Council of Spiders; assassins that are so skilled they kill other assassins for fun. Him then TRICKING RA’S AL GHUL AND BLOWING UP (almost??) ALL OF HIS BASES, AND THEN OUTSMARTING HIM AGAIN WHEN HE TRIES TO DESTROY EVERYTHING BATMAN HAS BUILT, I feel like it’s reasonable to assume a lot of them would’ve decided Tim is the bigger threat or at least proved himself very formidable and a large threat. I imagine a lot of them would’ve sought him out in Gotham and pledged loyalty to him (kind of like Minions seeking out the evilest leader thanks for that thought brain), maybe doing full on traditional rituals to prove the transferring of their loyalty, like blood oaths or ritual spars idk, maybe giving him gifts or displaying their skills so he accepts them as allies rather than being disrespected and killing or maiming them since that’s the standard they expect in the League.

And Tim is uh. Very confused. Very surprised. And also trying hard not to show it. He accepts all the gifts and pledges and shit, because he sure as fuck ain’t gonna turn them back to Ra’s, but after that he doesn’t really know what to do with them. He hires a bunch of them at Wayne Enterprise and Drake Industries, tasks a bunch of them with working for Red Hood on the down low, maybe sends a couple on undercover missions to Arkham Asylum so they start treating inmates as actual human beings and stop using shock therapy or something, and makes sure to write them all up fair contracts and great pay with good work bonuses and plenty of leave, and makes sure most or all of them start going to therapy. The assassins love their new leader and would do practically anything for him.

But anyway, all that aside. I’ve had those thoughts in my head for more than a month. Something that just recently occurred to me is Mara al Ghul. Damian’s cousin. Another child raised by the League of Assassins, only this one never left.

Until, that is, she watches this freshly-immunocompromised vigilante arguably outsmart her grandfather twice, and decides he is the bigger threat, actually, I want to be on his good side when he takes over the world.

So now Tim is being forced into basically adopting this feral child, who’s only experience in American society was undercover missions to kill people, who thinks decapitated heads are reasonable gifts, who’s introduction to Tim was something batshit insane like dumping the Joker’s head in his lap because the Joker is Gotham’s most dangerous rogue and of course Tim will appreciate having him gone. But even with a well crafted facade she can tell Tim is unnerved and horrified, so she must be doing something wrong. Maybe it was because the Joker is Batman’s enemy and not Tim’s specifically? But Tim doesn’t have any arch nemesis aside from maybe Ra’s who she obviously can’t kill, so she does more research into Tim’s life and background and finds out Captain Boomerang killed his father so next she brings Tim HIS head and she can already tell he’s much more pleased this time. But there’s still that edge of unsettlement and wariness, and he’s acting so strange around her, so she digs deeper and finds out about the Titans Tower incident but Tim sent all these other assassins to work for red hood so they must be on good terms, and then she finds out about all the bad blood between him and Damian and Dick so she starts trying to kill them next, starting with Damian obviously (a mix of jealousy over him leaving the league and a good amount of cousin rivalry/cain instinct), but Tim stops the fight and tells her to stand down and now she’s scared that he’s going to punish her and Ra’s’ punishments were always so harsh and perhaps this time she can’t quite fight down the urge to hide.

Meanwhile, Tim is being dragged through a parent arc kicking and screaming, the bats are wondering why the hell there are suddenly so many assassins only after they scare off Ra’s, Jason is more or less vibing because he thinks the assassins are from Talia and the Joker’s dead so of course he’s ecstatic (even tho he wishes he knew who did it so he can thank them), Dick and Damian are still reeling from learning Bruce is alive/getting him back from the time stream when all of a sudden this masked child comes out of nowhere mid patrol and attacks Damian, and isn’t backing down even though Dick arrived quickly but when Red Robin arrives and yells stop she’s already three rooftops away by the time he’s done speaking. Everyone is tired and doesn’t know what the hell is going on except mayybe Oracle.

[gg-neptune]

hii! Are you still taking request? I'd like to ask for one in which Reader takes care of a very sick Severus (Anything but a cold, it's too common), with all the comfort and pampering it requires :] Sev deserves to be pampered

A/n: Hiiii! Thank you for requesting this! I really likes writing this it was quite fun imagining a sick Sev. I imagined him having pneumonia for this since it was the first thing that came to mind and I had it recently so I based it off my symtoms. I hope you enjoy this. :)

Warnings: Sickness, pneumonia, coughing, phlegm (like he coughs it up it's gross but yk), if I missed anything pls tell me

It was not very often that wizards were affected by muggle viruses and diseases. By now they had come up with various potions to counteract them, and they had plenty of magical plants to help with the effects of whatever they had managed to contract. However, there were some rare cases in which they could not fight off the muggle diseases. It usually was not because they did not have a remedy but rather because they did not have the means to get to the remedy. This was often the case for Professor Snape.

Of course, being the Potions Master, he was always the one restocking the hospital wing and helping students who came to him who happened to get sick. Who was there for him when he was sick? Absolutely no one. Until recent developments in his life.

You. You had absolutely flipped his entire world upside down and shaken it violently to the point he was not sure this was his life still. He was quite used to going to his desk and spending hours grading alone without interruption. Now he had you come sit with him and pester him. He was used to wallowing in his bed alone when feeling ill, after Madame Pomfrey had told him off for being too needy one too many times. However, you were now here, and that simply would not be happening.

Now he had caught some virus that, till the day he died, he would claim was just a simple cold. He had written an owl to you that morning explaining his condition: “Just a simple common cold. I’m calling out so I don’t spread it. Don’t have a good enough potion brewed. Have a good day. Love you.”

This raised your suspicion, so after receiving it, you made your way down to the dungeons. After making it to his chambers, which was quite a way in the dungeons, you knock on his door.

“Severus, you ok? I wanted to check on you,” you call out to him. After waiting a moment with no response, you try the doorknob. A feeling in your gut told you something was wrong. Luckily the door was not locked, so you let yourself in. The curtains were still closed, and it seemed as if he had not even woken up yet. 

“Severus, hun, are you ok?” you call out to him only to be met with the sound of a loud groan.

Quickly, you make your way back to his bedroom. The door was left open, and inside there was Severus. His hair was wet with sweat, and so was his shirt. Normally he was pale, but now looking at him, he was ghastly. He had been lying down, but his head was barely lifted to be able to look up at you.

"Oh, you didn’t have—” he was cut off by a cough, followed by him wheezing for breath, trying to clear his lungs. “You didn’t have to come see me. I am fine, just a cold, as you can see,” he quickly tries to choke out before he is attacked by more phlegm coming up his throat. “Keep a reasonable distance; I don't want you to get sick.” He barely gets this out before coughing again, this time coughing up a sizable amount of mucus from his throat.

"Severus, I don’t think this is a cold, I mean.” You take him and his appearance in for a moment as concern begins to flood your chest.

“I’m going to write to Dumbledore and call out. I think you need to go to the hospital wing, but I know you won’t,” he flops his head back on his pillow, acting all dramatic.

“I’m fine. Go teach, I will be fine,” he wheezes out, pulling off his sweat-soaked shirt.

“Severus I think you have something worse than a cold. I mean, you look terrible.” You take a couple of steps toward his desk and pick up a quill and some parchment. “I’m calling out. Deal with it.” You quickly write an owl to Professor McGonagall, knowing she will not come to his room to try and visit but rather just find something for your students to do all while listening to Severus groan and cough in the background about how he is fine and how it’s “just a cold.”

After sending off the owl, you turn back to Severus and sit on the edge of the bed, reaching your hand forward and taking his hand in yours. "Severus, dear, you're obviously very sick.”

"No, I’m n-,” once again he is cut off by his own coughing.

“Lay down for a second. I'm going to go run you a bath. You need to dislodge some of the mucus in your throat.”

“That is simply not necessary.”

“Severus, I will drag you into the bath. You are covered in sweat.”

He grumbles one last time before you walk out of the room and into his bathroom. You run some hot water into his bathtub, letting it fill up. You decide to drip some peppermint oils into the water, hoping it will help his lungs clear up a bit.

Once the tub is half full, you go back to Severus, who is now splayed out on his back, still wheezing for breath.

“Come on, Sev, I’ve got you a bath running.” Your tone is gentle as you grab the man by his arm and try to rouse him up from his position on the bed.

He just groans before slowly pushing himself up and standing. He sways quite a bit and has to put quite a bit of his weight on you as you slowly walk him to the bathroom. You sit him on the closed toilet seat and begin to attempt to undress him. Which considering how soaked his clothes were with sweat proved to be a tremendous feat. After getting him to undress, you help him into the bathtub. The entire time you do not speak, just gently trying to get him into the tub. It would have not mattered anyway, as he keeps coughing every second or so anyway. You make sure to close the bathroom door so you can lock the steam in, which will help him dislodge some of the mucus in his lungs.

He leans against the back of the tub, eyes half closed with exhaustion. He can barely keep himself up as you grab a washcloth and spread some water on his shoulders and face.

“I’ll wash your hair too,” you whisper to him, not wanting to disturb him too much, as honestly, you cannot tell if he is asleep or not.

Suddenly he pushes his torso forward and dunks his head under the water, submerging his hair completely. He comes back up and lazily pushes it out of his face before relaxing against the tub again. “There. Hair washed,” he grumbled out.

“Severus, you cannot be serious.” Disbelief is the only word that you can come up with to describe your feelings right now.

“What,” he snaps. His illness has clearly shortened his temper and patience quite a bit. He glares at you through his eyelashes, not bothering to lift his head.

“You cannot just dunk your head under water and expect your hair to be clean. It’s drenched in sweat and disgusting,” you say as you begin to try to adjust him so you can actually wash his hair. He, however, does not help you at all and instead just goes completely limp, leaving you to have to move his dead weight.

Finally, after breaking a sweat yourself, you get him properly adjusted so you can wash his hair. You lather up some shampoo and begin to gently work it into his hair, focusing on his roots. He seems to almost flinch as you make contact with his scalp.

“What’s wrong? Too rough,” you ask him with a quiet voice, wanting him to relax as much as possible.

“My head hurts,” he replies, scrunching up his face in displeasure. “I don’t mean a headache like the skin on my head.”

Humming in acknowledgement, you more gently than the last time threaded the lather through his hair. You know if his scalp is tender, it will be painful either way, but it is best to be as gentle as possible.

When you are finally content with how much you’ve washed his hair, you attempt to rinse his hair out with a nearby cup, but he swats you away and dunks his head under again.

He continues to cough up more and more phlegm, and time goes on, the hot steam proving to loosen some of it. Eventually the water goes cold, and you help him up and into some fresh clothes.

As you are putting his shirt on, he leans against the sink, not being able to support himself when he gets a violent fit of coughing.

“Lift your arms up,” you tell him, getting ready to put his shirt on.

He does as you say without complaint, but after you slip his shirt on his arms, they find their way around your waist. He holds you there for quite a while. As you are pressed against his chest, enjoying his warmth (and also realizing he is most likely running a fever), you can feel him wheeze with each breath he takes.

“Thank you,” he whispers to you, barely audible after quite some time.

You simply nod, knowing he is just not used to people taking care of him like this or even sticking around him like this.

After a while, he releases you, and you walk him to the couch in the lounge area.

“Why do I have to sit in here?” he complains as you gently push him to sit down on the sofa.

“Am I wrong to assume your bedsheets are covered in sweat?”

He gives no response to this and instead just lays on the couch, grumbling in displeasure at the fact you had a point.

“I’m going to write an owl to madame Pomfrey for your fever and cough; I don’t think I could brew a decent enough potion, and I don’t want to leave you alone for very long,” you explain to him as you grab a spare piece of parchment from the table in his kitchen.

“Hurry up,” his voice is almost whiny as he says this. He’s glaring at you again, not happy with the fact you are so far away from him.

Following his demands, you quickly explain to Madame Pomfrey what Severus’ symptoms are and to please give him something quick. You sent it off with the school owl that had returned with McGonagall's response, which said that it was perfectly fine that you called out today. Professor Sprout needed more hands to deal with some Devil's Snare.

Before returning to Severus, you rummage through his cabinet and quickly find a sleeping draft, deciding he needed to rest some. You bring it back to him and find him waiting on the sofa, sitting upright, glaring at you still.

“Why did you take so long? Like genuinely, what are you doing there?” he complains. You don’t know what had gotten into your man, but he seems to be even more dramatic and sassy today.

“I wrote an owl and I got you some sleeping potion; calm down.” You sit beside him, wrapping your arm around him and allowing him to lean into you. “Why don’t you lay down, Severus? Here, take a few drinks.” He does as you say, but he does not lay down.

“I can’t breathe when I’m lying down,” he’s becoming even more congested as time goes on.

Hearing this, you summon some pillows from his room with your wand and use them to prop up his head and chest. He settles against it, nestling himself in the pillows, not bothering with blankets as they are too hot for him at the moment.

You are sitting on the edge of the couch, running your hand through his still wet hair as he teeters on the edge of consciousness when he reaches out an arm and wraps it around your waist. He is attempting to pull you close to him; however, in his sick state, he cannot muster up the strength to actually pull you to him. You decide to help him out and lay next to him. You attempt not to put too much weight on his chest, not wanting to obstruct his breathing even more, but he continues to tug on your waist until you are on him to his full content.

Soon after, since he decided to exert all of his energy on pulling you on to him, he passes out immediately after. Leaving you to your own thoughts and opportunity to admire him. 

His head had fallen back on the pillows, mouth slightly parted. It was only a matter of time before he started snoring. His hair that was still wet was splayed out everywhere.

A small smile formed on your loops as you looked up at him. He looked so calm for once in his life. He was not scowling or wearing an expression of displeasure but rather just a calm, happy face of content.

You run your fingers through his hair, earning a sigh from him, though he does not move or show any other signs of waking. Pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, you carefully rest your head against this chest once more.

~~Later~~

You had been lying there for quite a while before Severus had woken up. You were not able to fall asleep yourself, but it did not bother you, opting to just admire the man you were laying on top of.

When he does finally wake up, it is only because madam Pomfrey is knocking at the door, which you have to get up to answer. He had quite a grip on you, so after struggling to get him to let go, you finally are able to answer the door, allowing her to give you the potions he will need in order to make a recovery.

“I expect he’s got pneumonia, but this should do the trick. Make him drink all of it, then sleep, and when he wakes he should be fine. Maybe cough up some remaining phlegm but otherwise good as new,” she explains, handing a bottle of dark green liquid to you. 

“Thank you, Poppy. Genuinely, if he stayed in the state he was in for much longer, he was going to hack up a lung,” you partially joke but then begin to wonder if this was actually true.

She takes her leave soon after having students in the hospital wing to attend to, and you return to Severus, deciding it is time to wake him up. However, he is already awake. Glaring at you once again.

“Why were you gone?” he wheezes out, slouching against the pillows.

“You hold up the potion bottle to him, knowing he will recognize it immediately. He huffs and holds his arms out to you, wanting you close to him.

Not being able to deny him, you set the potion bottle down on the table and snuggle next to him. He is no longer lying but rather sitting against the pillows, allowing you to sit in his lap. You smile up at him, but he is not looking at you, opting to scowl at the potion you have been provided moments before.

“Do you have personal issues with that potion or something?” you joke. A hand goes up to his face, resting it against his cheek. He leans his face into your hand, craving more and more of your touch.

“I should’ve been the one to brew it,” he complains. You can tell by his tone he is feeling like he is not enough. You must be quick to rebuttal, or Severus will get lost in his own head.

“You were sick, Sev. and spending good time with me.”

Luckily, he is content enough with this answer and decides to drop it and shove it from his mind. He holds you close to him for quite some time. You keep your hands on his cheek, stroking his cheekbone, and occasionally you press a kiss to wherever you can reach on him, causing his cheeks to go a slight shade of pink.

Soon his eyes start to droop a bit, so you decide it is time to administer the potion to him. You lean over and grab it from the table, and after some coaxing, he drinks the entire thing. This time a sleeping potion is not needed in order to put him to sleep, so you just spend the rest of the time cuddling.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he whispers to you, almost asleep.

"Anytime, Sev,” you whisper back. You glance up at him, expecting to be met with his dark eyes looking at you fondly, only to see he has succumbed to sleep.

[nahoney22]

If you're able I would LOVE ❛  cum for me, pretty one.  ❜ and/or ❛  i know, baby, you need me to fuck you, don't you?  ❜ but with AFAB reader saying it to Crosshair? 👀Thank you in advance if you do!! Your writing is wonderful 💕

4000 Follower Prompt Celebration

Crosshair X AFAB!Reader

word count: 1.6k

prompts:

• “Cum for me, pretty one.”

• “I know baby, you need me to fuck you don’t you?”

You want to try something new. For the crosshair girlies 💋

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only! Minors will be blocked if I see you interact. You’ve been warned. Smut, Dom! Reader, Sub! Crosshair, porn without plot, p in v sex, neck kissing, making out, handjob, riding, explicit sexual content and language. AFAB reader, established relationship,brief cockwarming, creampie, no mention of contraception so up to you.

authors note: so sorry for the wait my beloved @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius . Enjoy this well needed crosshair smut ❤️‍🔥

In the quiet confines of the Marauder, where solitude was a rare luxury amidst the hustle of missions and the constant presence of the Batchers, an air of anticipation hung heavy between Crosshair and you.

It had been (or at least felt like) an eternity since you both had a little fun, a longing that was simmering beneath the surface met with secret lustful gazes and needy touches. Both of you just waiting for the right moment to ignite the fire.

However, one evening after you both managed to convince Hunter to stay behind for whatever reason, as soon as the door sealed shut to the Marauder, the tension crackled to life, and Crosshair wasted no time in bridging the gap between you.

With a fervent urgency, his hands found their place on your waist, drawing you closer until your breaths mingled in the space between your lips.

"Finally," he murmured against your lips with a husky grumble laced with longing, hooking your leg to pull you impossibly closer. But you, caught in the whirlwind of desire and anticipation, had a different notion in mind.

“Crosshair, mmm…” you whimper in pleasure agaisnt his lips, finding the right moment to set your desires in action. “I want to try something.”

He chuckles, low and guttural that made your body vibrate and cunt throb in anticipation, “And what may that be?”

As his lips move down to your neck, licking and sucking at your soft skin that almost breaks you and forgetting your idea, you take a step back from him. There’s a glimmer in your eyes and a look of intrigue in his as you slip the gloves away that dorned your hands. “Hands behind your back.”

“What are you up to?”

“No questions,” you input swiftly, “be a good boy and do as you're told.”

He stills, the pet name catching him off guard but you couldn’t act like you didn’t see the twitch in his pants. “Oh, you like that do you? Do you like being called a ‘good boy’?”

His tongue rolled between his teeth as his arousal became more than evident from the growl in his throat. He nods, and does as he is told. “Only if you call me it.”

When his hands find their way behind his back, you approach again and tease him. You move your mouth close to his lips, only brushing over him before pulling away, fingers dancing over the fabric of his clothes.

His eyes are trained on you, barely blinking as he watches your every move in anticipation. Your fingers graze the underside of his waistband and when he thinks you’re about to pull them down you pull back earning a dissatisfied whine from the Marksman.

“Such a tease,” he mutters but there’s a smirk on his lips. But, his hand comes from behind his back to reach out and touch you but you swat his hand back.

“Ah, ah! Hands. Back. Now.”

Begrudgingly, he obeys once more and as he’s about to give a snarky remark, your hands cup the bulge in his pants creating the most sinful sound to part his lips.

“It’s been a long time…” you sigh as you feel his cock twitch under his pants and in your hand, his abdominal muscles flexing and contracting under your touch, “…you need a release don’t you?”

“Yes,” he rasps, his eyes looking down as you fondle his cock that was in desperate need of touching your skin, “hurry.”

You giggle at his neediness and tut at him. “I think I’ll be the one giving orders this time, Crosshair.” Beginning to play with the waistband of his pants again, you give him the pleasure of dropping to your knees and allowing his cock to spring free as you pull them down. His tip swollen, bursting with precum already twitches in front of your eyes and you bite your lip to stop you from taking him right then and there. “Such a pretty cock, desperately needing to be kissed.”

“D-Do it,” he pants and you're pleasantly surprised to see how beautifully desperate he was.

Again, you tut and shake your head. “I don’t think you quite understand Crosshair. You will not tell me what to do,” you gaze up at him, hands sliding up his slender yet toned thighs, “I’ll do what I think you deserve.”

He cursed under his breath but his heartbeat quickens at the sight of you on your knees, hands wrapping around his cock and giving it a slow caress.

Usually by now his hands would be in your hair, clumped in his grasp and hips thrusting as his cock stuffs down your throat but instead, he has to hold back. And it was agonising.

His length is warm in your grasp and his gasps of pleasure echo around the ship like a song. He shivers involuntarily as you collect the slick from his tip and use it as lubricant, your hand keeping a steady pace as you start to release his tension. “That’s it, do you like that?”

All he could do was bite his lip and nod, submitting to you and then you go ahead and tease him some more, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out as if to welcome his cock or even to paint it in white ribbons. His breathing is ragged and his legs begin to shake. “Minx.”

Your momentum changes, starting off slow and limp now to quickly and firmly. Your curious eyes now focused on every last twitch and movement he’s making. Desperate moans spill from those pretty snarky lips as he starts to frantically thrust into your hand; head thrown back and arching gorgeously.

One hand slips from his cock and moves down to fondle with his balls. He reacts beautifully, gasping and then groaning but as soon as you squeeze gently down on them, right as you squeeze the head of his cock, he snaps.

“Fuck! I need- I need…”

“I know baby,” you smile innocently, “you need me to fuck you don’t you?”

“Yes, I need to be inside you.” You’re about to laugh, his desperation to cum like a song to your ears as you think of all the times he had denied you of an orgasm because he liked to see your eyes pleading. But, you had the power in your hands.

You say nothing, instead gesture for him to follow before pointing to a seat for him to take. He does, eagerly. He slides his shirt off even though you didn’t tell him too. Though there was something beautiful about seeing him sat there, nude as his cock rests and twitches against his abdomen. Needy. Fuckable.

Slowly, you pull yourself out of your own clothes this time. You let it all look at your feet and Crosshair looks like he’s ready to launch himself out of the chair and take you right then and there but he holds back, wanting to cum to your rules.

With ease, you manage to move on top of him, legs comfortably placing over each side of him as your pussy hits his stomach. “Fuck you’re soaked.” He mutters, squirming as he feels himself ready to burst at any second.

“I don’t think I’m going to last long..” he mutters once you feel your hand come down, caressing his aching length as you begin to line yourself up with his tip.

There’s a hint of embarrassment in his eyes but you didn’t mind. Not at all. In fact, you were flattered you had this effect on him so there’s no surprise that when you coo his name and sheathe yourself on his cock that he lurches forward and buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning almost violently in pleasure.

You tilt your head back, adjusting to him. It really had been a long time, never had you been stretched so good and felt so full again. “Mmm, do you want me to move?”

“Yes! Ride me, riding my fucking cock.” He begs, teeth grazing your neck as he sucks on the skin, bound to leave a bruise.

“Be a good boy and say ‘please’.” He whined in return but mustered out a quiet ‘please’ which was good enough for you. Finding your strength, you begin bouncing up and down on his cock. The aching length slides in and out of you so easily, bound to be from your increased arousal and how wet you are. Crosshair braces you, his arms wrapping around your back so that you can lean into him as you fuck yourself on him.

You take your own breath away as you slam down on him harder, mixing your rhythm with bouncing and grinding your hips as your pussy clenches around him. But as expected, he didn’t last long.

His breaths became staggered, his hips thrusting up to meet yours as his assault on your neck became sloppy. You cup his chin, forcing him to look at you as you place a longing kiss to his lips and whisper, “cum for me, pretty one.”

Everything in his mind goes blank, he can barely even remember his own name as you ride him through his orgasm. Your soaking walls clench around him so tightly as he cums, strings of dirty words erupting from his mouth as he coats your insides with his seed.

He goes limp, his arms that were wrapped around you tightly now loosening as he pulls back from you and kisses your cheek gently. “Thank you…” he pants, “I needed that.”

You giggle softly, essentially warming his cock as you remain sitting in his lap. “I know you did, you did so well for me.” You cooed and you noticed him become flustered at the praise.

Perhaps, this is something you had to do again.

Masterlist

Prompt Works

More Crosshair Works

Tags: @photogirl894 @whore4rex @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @mssbridgerton @cw80831 @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @imalovernotahater @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb

[auncyen]

Jouvente's most awkward lunch is finally underway.

"So you're still traveling around, huh?"

"Mhm."

"Any special reason you're in Jouvente?" you ask, and try not to get your hopes up.

Siffrin doesn't answer for a beat, cutting off another small piece of the croque-madame he ordered after you reassured them that you were going to pay and didn't mind. The poached egg yolk oozes over the ham and cheese sandwich; Sif moves his fork around to sweep the few drops that run down to the plate back up on the bread. "Um. I...wanted to look for jobs."

Oof. Feels like your hopes got up without your permission. It's fine, they've been put back in place. "Oh! That's right, you used to do odd jobs, right? Any luck?"

"It's going alright! So...what about you? With the..." Siffrin trails off, their brow furrowing in a frustration all too familiar to you. You quickly finish chewing through the broccoli and egg in your mouth to bail them out.

"With the tailoring? Well, I could say it's only sew-sew, but actually, I'm really enjoying it!"

Okay, you had to wedge that pun in there, but still, you thought it'd get a smile out of Sif, maybe a chuckle. Instead, Siffrin looks confused before giving you a smile best described as 'polite'. Sure, his mouth turns up and all, but you don't think he got it in the slightest. "That's good!"

...Probably your mistake for going for sewing puns right after they forgot the word for your work. Yep. Move on, Isabeau. "Yeah! I really lucked out--the store was owned by a seamstress who's retiring. Well, still is owned, but we've got a contract for me buying the store from her. She already moved out to live with her bonded partners, but she stops in twice a week to teach me what I still need to learn about making clothes."

Sif...nods, encouraging you to go on.

"She's cool! She pretty much worked as a seamstress all her life, so she really knows her stuff. Tells me right away when I'm making a design way more work than it should be." Sometimes all the fiddling details were necessary, but other times, you could get the right effect a simpler way.

Siffrin nods, still smiling politely.

Huh. You scoop up another bite of your quiche as an excuse not to talk for a minute, noting that Sif goes for another cut piece of croque-madame at the same time. You never thought a lunch with Sif could be awkward, but...

Boy, is this awkward!

Why is it awkward? You and Siffrin were thick as thieves during your adventure. Sure, it's been a while, you couldn't expect things to be the same right off the bat, but...

“M’dame Odile and Mira will be glad to hear you’re doing okay.”

Siffrin nods. Then he looks confused. Then...you're not sure what that expression is.  “Wait, are they here too?  In Jouvente?”

“No, no, but we’ve been writing!  The last letter was a week ago, they were going to see...aha, apparently there's a play about Mirabelle? She said it was embarrassing, but she and Odile were too curious not to go. Hopefully they liked it!" You weren't all that curious yourself. After all, you'd already lived the adventure. You knew the real story, the real Mirabelle! You hoped the play portrayed her and everyone else well, but you were pretty sure there was no way they had all the details.

Also...you had a bad feeling you were probably portrayed as a jock through and through. Since that was how you acted. You could picture the cast: determined Mirabelle, leading the way; clever Odile, strategizing against hordes of Sadnesses and then the King himself; fun-loving Sif, raising everyone's spirits with jokes and protecting them from traps; brave Bonnie, keeping everyone healthy with good food; ...meathead Isabeau, whose good point was being too dumb to fear the danger.

You're jolted out of that extremely unhelpful thought by Siffrin's next question. “They’re traveling…together?”

...That's a weird tone. “Housemaidens usually go on at least one pilgrimage, not sure if you knew that.  Since M’dame was interested in seeing a little of what Vaugarde's like when it's normal, Mira asked her if they could travel together. So they spent a few months in Vaugarde, and right now they're in Poteria. I think they're planning on Lichtland next? Eventually they'll get to Ka Bue, but it sounded like both of them planned on taking their time.“

Sif's brow is furrowed again as he looks down at his plate. Is he jealous? You were jealous too when you found out. But you get it! Of course Mira and M'dame didn't ask you. You were busy being a sad sack about Siffrin. Well, and even without that, why should they have invited you? It was their trip. Not like you had a good reason to tag along, just...

It would have been nice to.

You can't complain--Jouvente's been good to you. You were the guest of honor at a party hosted by the city, your family is so proud of you (though you know Guy is just happy to boast that he's a Savior's sibling to his partner of the week, which keeps making you secondguess how sincere everyone else is when they reach out to you), the neighbors in your new place have been warm and friendly, you got to start on designing clothes so much faster than you thought you would.

You just miss Mira and Odile a whole lot. You miss Bonbon. You miss what you had with Siffrin, because everything about this lunch feels so off, and at this point you have to ask.

"Sif...you are doing okay, right?"

They immediately smile brightly enough that their eye closes. "Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

[clock-06]

Some more PM thoughts cause they’re rattling round my brain at hyper speed now that people know about them

PM! Ford and Canon Bill would fucking destroy the universe fighting each other. Battle of two giant egos. There would be homosexual overtones of course, but they both have a craving for power and enough power to leave a trail of destruction anywhere they interacted

Canon Ford would be very weirded out and like? Not scared but primal instinct of wrong about PM!Bill, who is nice to him off the bat. c!Ford would bring up weirdmaggedon and trickery and PM!Bill would just be like “oh yeah. I was gonna do that, but I’ve honestly had a lot of fun with my Ford just traveling dimensions and helping him research. I may get back to that eventually” and c!Ford is dumbstruck and suffering from emotional whiplash. Eventually neither of them would really talk to each other and sit in silence.

c!Bill thinks PM!Bill is pathetic and a failure, and by his standards, he is technically right in both of those opinions. PM!Bill thinks c!Bill is an idiot for sabotaging the one good thing he had, but is very light around the topic. It’s very c!Bill as a kind of annoyed as fuck third wheel. He holds a lot of hate for both PM!Bill and PM!Ford, mainly hating the latter for not being the Ford of his universe, as he loves the violence and lust for power PM!Ford holds (he’d never admit it out loud though).

c!Ford is convinced PM!Ford is possessed by Bill somehow. Convinced there’s no way any route could lead to him acting like that, or be that successful. Basically 100% sure that PM!Ford sold his soul in a deal with Bill and being soulless is why he’s like that.

PM!Ford and PM!Bill have a lot of deals laid out, most of which are for Ford’s benefit and a few at Bill’s deficit (but he’s too in love to realize that). They are technically married, moreso in the legal contract sense than a ceremonial sense. Ford spurred this on, getting Bill enamored with the idea of them being together forever and explaining the human tradition of marriage in a mostly accurate way. They have matching rings, gold with a triangle surrounding a circular gem (probably something rarer than diamonds that they found while traveling) and Bill’s acts as a binding magical artifact while Ford’s is entirely mundane. Bill is unaware of the effects of his ring, and probably wouldn’t take it off knowing them (y’all don’t get to know yet sorry).

Ford can defend himself pretty well due to his tech as well as some physical enhancements from deals with Bill, so he does go on solo missions without Bill, especially if it’s to keep Bill in his loyal arsenal. A few characters try to join them, and they even have a run in with the axolotl (who is mainly concerned for Bill and despises Ford), but Bill and Ford are a very exclusive duo and the intentionally created co-dependency means no one travels with them for long. There is a point where they run into Fiddleford for reasons it’s….. gonna be fun to write and draw let’s just say that.

Ford does come back through the portal after 30 years, mainly because through Bill’s surveillance, he’s been gaining interest in this generation of pines twins, especially Dipper’s potential as a researcher.

And that’s where I’m gonna leave my infodumping for now because my lunch is ready and I have to get my mail

<3 toxic old man triangle yaoi keeps me awake at night

[betterthanburrow]

WWE’s Best Interviewer - Instagram AU

(Bengals Quarterback! Joe Burrow x Interviewer! OC)

liked by: WWE , joeyb_9 , and 793,374 more users

yourinstagram: 🎤🤍 @.WWE

view all 394,284 comments

WWE: welcome to the commentary team!

↳ yourinstagram: i’m so happy to be apart of the team!

username1: Y/N IS BACK DOING INTERVIEWS!!! ITS BEEN MONTHS SINCE HER LAST INTERVIEW!!

patmcafeeshow: the WWE commentary team just got so much better!

↳ samathaivrinWWE: it’s going to be so fun coming into work every week!

username2: i can’t believe the NFL lost one of their best interviews reporters to WWE?!

↳ username3: that’s what happens when the NFL decides to randomly fire all their female employees that spoke up about being underpaid in comparison to the amount of money their male co-workers make.

joeyb_9: i’m so proud of you 🧡

↳ yourinstagram: 🧡

liked by: yourinstagram, and 580,284 more users

SportIllustrated: Bengals Quarterback Joe Burrow speaks up for the first time about the NFL and ESPN firing female employees incident involving his girlfriend of 4 years Y/FN Y/LN who has been a interviewer for the NFL since 2018 and her new job in the WWE.

“The whole situation is terrible and it hurt even more to see how much pain and frustrated it caused her behind the scenes for many of years before the conversation started in the public eye. Neither of us thought it would get the point that it got too with the NFL and ESPN deciding to fire her and other female employees for speaking out. But there is always a light at the end of the dark tunnel and this job offering that she received from WWE was a once in a lifetime opportunity that she had to take. the WWE is very lucky to have one of the best interviewers of all time in their company while NFL and ESPN lost one of the best interviewers that this industry has ever hired and no matter how hard these companies try, Y/FN Y/LN can’t be replaced.”

view all 384,294 comments

username1: “Y/FN Y/LN can’t be replaced!” I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT BURROWHEAD!

yourinstagram: it’s always so good to have a supportive boyfriend stand right by your side 🧡

username2: it’s good to hear Joe finally speak up about the situation… we all know it put him in a rough spot for many months.

haterloser69: Y/N getting fired is the consequences to her own actions… maybe next time she should think before writing a long statement lying about the NFL?!

↳ yourinstagram: the reason i publicly spoke out is because i was EXHAUSTED after the band and forth conversations that i would have with people in power at the NFL and ESPN… female employees getting underpaid in comparison to male employees has been an issue since before i signed my contract with the companies. it got the point where i had to speak up publicly or else i would just be wasting my time and getting underpaid for all of my hard work. i would rather get fired than to stay under a contract with the NFL and ESPN for any longer than i have.

liked by: joeyb_9 and 1,739,293 more users.

TripleH: WWE is very honored to have @.yourinstagram be apart of our amazing and talented commentary team for Monday Night RAW!

view all 893,293 comments

yourinstagram: thank you so much for this opportunity! this is truly a dream come true 🤍

joeyb_9: my man and my woman!

↳ username1: it’s time to book Joe Burrow to have a match at the next WrestleMania @.TripleH

samanthairvinWWE: my boss and my wife!

↳ yourinstagram: i love you wifey 💋🤍

↳ username2: it’s only been about a week since Y/FN Y/LN was hired by WWE and she already has a work wife.

↳ username3: i just find it funny how Y/N replied to Samantha instead of replying to Joe 😭

↳ joeyb_9: stop trying to steal my girlfriend… i’m the only one who will be calling her my wife @.samanthairvinWWE

↳ samanthairvinWWE: well Mr Quarterback… until you put a ring on her finger and say “i do”. i’ll be calling her my wife.

liked by: samanthairvinWWE and 882,292 more users.

yourinstagram: Barclays Center, it was fun tonight!

view all 693,293 comments

username1: I MISSED YOUR INTERVIEWERS!!!

↳ username2: Y/N always know what to do in her interviewers! no interview she has done is the same as another!

joeyb_9: the best interviewer! you did amazing as always.

↳ samanthairvinWWE: she is known to be the best interviewer in the industry for a reason!

↳ yourinstagram: thank you 🧡

ajstylesp1: one of my favorite backstage interviews that i’ve done in my wrestling career… thank you!

↳ yourinstagram: it was an absolute honor 🤍

liked by: joeyb_9 , and 103,384 more users

WWETHEBUMP: Y/FN Y/LN joins us on The Bump for the first time! We talked about her first night hosting backstage interviews at Monday Night Raw and her boyfriend Bengals Quarterback Joe Burrow.

“the NFL and ESPN situation really put me in a depression state for a very long time, after I was fired for speaking up about the unfair treatment between men and woman, I felt so hopeless and I was scared that I would get blacklisted from the industry for speaking up against the unfair treatment. I will always be so grateful for WWE giving me this opportunity to find my passion for interviews again, and I’m so thankful to have the most supportive boyfriend that truly helped me get through the most awful time of my life. He was so supportive and even wanted to risk his career in the NFL for me but I wouldn’t allow him to do that. The love that I have for football doesn’t change just because of what happened with NFL and ESPN, I’ll still be going to games to support The Bengals and I will always be cheering on my favorite quarterback just like I have been for over the past 4 years now.”

view all 72,294 comments

username1: i’m glad Y/N had Joe by her side during that rough time.

↳ username2: same… i couldn’t imagine going through a situation like that all by myself.

username3: with Y/N speaking about still going to football games to support The Bengals… i wonder if she is going to this weekends game?!

↳ yourinstagram: you’ll just have to wait and see!

↳ username4: i’m surprised she isn’t banned from the NFL.

↳ yourinstagram: trust me, i’m surprised too.

↳ username5: Joe Burrow would NEVER allow the NFL to ban his girlfriend from attending his games… he might as well quick the team if his number 1 fan can’t be there for all of The Bengals games.

liked by: yourinstagram and 1,384,293 more users

joeyb_9: ⏲️

view all 729,304 comments

joemainmixon: I’m tired of waiting too bro… wait almost over.

yourinstagram: my favorite Bengals boy 🧡

↳ joeyb_9: i’ll always be your FAVORITE boy right?!

↳ yourinstagram: hmm maybe…

↳ sam_hubbard_: we all know i was her favorite football player to interview after a football game!

↳ lahjay10_: i guess i’m not longer apart of the Y/N’s favroite Bengals boys club anymore 😢💔

↳ yourinstagram: you’ll always be the founding member of the Y/N’s favorite Bengals boys club @.lahjay10_

liked by: joeyb_9 and 729,390 more users

yourinstagram: Sunday Night Football 🏈

view all 482,293 comments

username1: I KNEW Y/N WOULD BE AT THE BENGALS GAME AFTER THAT INSTAGRAM COMMENT SHE WROTE!

mamaburrow: the Bengal girls were reunited tonight!

username2: it feels so good to know that Y/N was at the football game tonight… it’s not a Bengals game without her presence at the field.

joeyb_9: thank you for always coming to support my football games… your support always means so much to me in ways that you don’t understand 🧡

↳ yourinstagram: being the number 1 fan of the Bengals Quarterback isn’t an easy job… but it’s my favorite job that i’ll be doing until your retirement!

NFL: our favorite interviewer forever 🎤🧡

↳ mamaburrow: if she is the NFL’s favorite interviewer then why was she fired almost immediately after publicly speaking out against the NFL and ESPN’s unfair treatment between female employees and male employees?!

↳ yourinstagram: i’m WWE’s favorite interviewer now!

Author’s Note:

this is my first Instagram AU that is being published!

if you have any requests for an OC and/or a plot for an Instagram AU. please send it through the inbox!

thank you for all the love and support 🤍

[hunterscabin]

This Baby Will Have A Father Part II

Summary: The boys have a surprise for Y/N that they hope will show how deeply they love and care for her.

Pairings: Reader x SPN Cast

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, reluctance to accept help and gifts, mild panic, fluff, ALLl of the fluff.

Word Count: 1.6k 

Author’s Note: This is the second and, what I had planned to be, last chapter of a mini series, but writing all of this fluff has been a nice distraction from the real world. If there is any interest, I’d gladly consider writing more. 

Part I

At nearly six months pregnant, exhaustion took on a whole new meaning. The ten to twelve hour work days you once conquered with ease now left you completely drained and lethargic. You were lying on the sofa in your trailer, contemplating how you used to manage a night out after filming, when a small slip of paper caught your eye.

You sat up, reaching toward the coffee table with some effort, and quickly recognized the handwriting.  

Meet me in my trailer. - Jare

While walking across the lot, you contemplated Jared’s note. You weren’t sure of the reason for his note, but your mind had wandered to the point that you began silently praying the boys had enough common sense not to prank a woman approaching her third trimester.

Jared must have been watching for you, because his door swung open before you reached the trailer’s steps.

“Y/N/N!” Jared beamed, ushering you into the small living space where Jensen, Misha, Alex, Rob, and Rich were eagerly awaiting your arrival.

“It smells like trouble in here.” you cautioned, leery of the knowing smiles plastered on their faces.

Misha stepped forward and took both of your hands in his.

“You know we all love you, right?”

“Yes.” You squinted at him suspiciously. “What is this, an intervention?”

“No.” Misha laughed. “We’re so excited for you, Y/N/N, but we also know how much goes into raising a baby.”

“It’s exhausting.” Rob concurred from the sofa.

“They take all of your time and energy.” Rich agreed.

Misha saw a tinge of fear flash across your face.

“We’re not trying to scare you,” he soothed, rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands, “We just know that you have a hard time asking for help, even when you really need it.”

“And you’re gonna really need it.” Jensen stressed.  

“We weren’t kidding when we said you don’t have to do this alone.” Jared added. “We want to be with you, every step of the way.”

“And we’ve put something together to show you how serious we are.” Rich announced, proudly handing you a small scroll that was neatly tied with a thick, white ribbon.

You loosened the bow, unfurled the ivory card stock, and read the cursive heading. 

“This is a binding contract, for all who have signed, detailing the ways in which we plan to care for and love Y/N and Baby Y/L/N.”

You looked up in disbelief, finding Rich’s kind expression, and he nodded for you to continue reading.

“Alex: Date Night.”

Alex stood and walked toward you.

“What are your two favorite things?” he quizzed, already knowing your answer.

“Good food, great company.” Your reply was skeptical, but a small smile tugged at your lips upon hearing everyone recite your mantra in unison.

“Now, I don’t know if I’m considered great company,” Alex quipped, trading the scroll for a small booklet, “but I can promise good food.”

You thumbed through the pages Alex handed you and noticed each one listed the name of a restaurant you had mentioned wanting to try.

“I will be waiting at your trailer, every Friday after work, until we’ve eaten our way through Vancouver.”

“This is too much.” you shook your head.

Unsure of how to accept his kindness, your gaze fell to the floor. Alex immediately dipped his head to catch your eyes.

“I know what you're thinking,” he whispered, “and you’re wrong; you deserve to have some fun.”

Alex watched you fiddle with the booklet for a moment before offering some extra reinforcement.

“It’s either dinner out or eating in, and I really don’t want to make you or the baby suffer through my cooking.”

His threat elicited a surprised laugh, and you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks, Alex.”

“See you Friday night?” he confirmed. 

“It’s a date.”

Alex handed back the scroll, and you read the next name.

“Rich: Cravings.” You tilted your head to the side and crinkled your brow. “You all think I’m food obsessed, don’t you?”

Everyone laughed, as Rich took Alex’s place in front of you.

“This” he said, handing you a prepaid cell phone while holding up one of his own, “Is your designated snack line. Any time you have a craving, you just call or text, and I’ll be there!”

“You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.” you giggled, taking the phone. “I’ve already gone through three watermelons this week.”

“It’s only Tuesday!” Rich exclaimed. “That’s one watermelon a day!”

“This baby knows what they want.” you proclaimed, rubbing your belly.  

“I’m serious,” Rich affirmed, his face softening with sincerity, “If you need ice cream at three o’clock in the morning, I’m your man.”

“Promise not to judge me when the requests start getting crazy?”

“Honey, you should hear some of the things Jaci ate while she was pregnant. I’ve seen it all.”

“Thank you, Rich.” You grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Who’s next?” Jensen prompted.

“Rob: Lullabies.”

You looked up to find Rob fishing for something in his backpack.

“When she was especially fussy, music was the only thing that would get Audrey to sleep.” 

Rob found what he was looking for and pulled out a CD case.

“Louden Swain is putting together an album of lullabies for Baby Y/L/N, and we’ve already recorded one song.” he said, handing you the demo. “I hope you like it.”

You held the case to your heart.

“I’ll love it. The baby will love it.” You lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck.

 “Thank you, Rob!”

“We’re having another session next weekend, and we’d love for you to come.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You set the CD on the counter and picked up the scroll.

“Misha: Crib.”

Misha reached out his hand, and you settled your palm against his.

“That night after you told us you were pregnant, I couldn’t sleep, so I went out to my woodshop, and eight hours later, I had this.” Misha slid his phone across the counter, revealing a photo of an ornately carved railing rung. He swiped his finger over the screen, and a dark wood headboard appeared.  

“It still needs a lot of work, but it will definitely be ready by the time the little one gets here.”

“Misha,” you breathed, your eyes filling with tears, “It’s the most beautiful crib I’ve ever seen.”

Misha stood and gathered you in his arms.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too.”

“Hey! There are other people here who love her!” Jensen joked impatiently, when you lingered in Misha’s embrace.

“Let me guess.” you teased. “You’re next?”

Jensen gave a playful shrug, and you rolled your eyes. You sent Misha back to his chair and found Jensen’s name on the scroll. 

“Jensen: Classes.”

You looked at him quizzically.

“When Danneel was pregnant with JJ and the twins, she always felt more at ease when she was prepared, so we went to every class imaginable: delivery classes, breastfeeding classes, parenting classes…“ Jensen stopped suddenly, when he saw that you’d started wringing your hands. 

"Y/N/N, what’s wrong?”

“Those types of classes never even crossed my mind.” You spoke quietly, as if you were merely thinking out loud, but your voice was dripping with panic. 

“I’m already not doing enough. What else am I not thinking of?”

“Hey, slow down.” Jensen pulled you into his chest and cradled your head. He rubbed your back and stroked your hair while exchanging concerned glances with the group.

“I’m going to be a terrible mother.” you mumbled into Jensen’s shirt.

Jensen kissed your temple and leaned back to look at you.

“You are not going to be a terrible mother.” His voice was warm and reassuring.

Jensen brushed the hair away from your face and let out a soft chuckle.

“What are you laughing at?” you questioned, suddenly very self conscious about your hormone-induced overreaction.

“I caused the panic I was trying to prevent.” Jensen explained. 

“Before she had JJ, Danneel and I were out to dinner with a couple who were also expecting their first baby. They mentioned an infant CPR course, and Dee lost it in the middle of the restaurant. She said the exact same things you just did.”

“But Dee’s a great mother.”

“And you will be too. I promise.”

Jensen’s hand found the side of your face, and you leaned into his touch.

“Thank you, Jensen.”

Jared cleared his throat behind you.

“I hate to ruin a moment, but there’s one more person on that list.”

When you turned, Jared winked, and you said his name before even picking up the scroll.

“Jared:” you skimmed down to the last line of the page, “Doctors’ Appointments.”

Your eyes widened in anticipation.

“Starting now, you are not going to a single doctor’s appointment by yourself.”

“But there are so many.” you objected, your independent nature getting the better of you.

“There are,” Jared conceded, “and I don’t want you going to any of them alone.”

You stood in silence, stunned at his generosity.

“Y/N/N, if it makes you uncomfortable, I don’t have to go in with you, but I am at least going to drive you and wait for you until the appointment is over.”

“I…” you tried to order words in a way that would accurately expressed your gratitude, but language failed to give meaning to the love and appreciation swelling in your heart. 

“I don’t know how to thank you.” You turned to the group, “All of you.”

“You can thank us by not putting up a fight when we offer to help you.” Jared’s tone was loving but firm.

“Deal.” you agreed.

You looked around the room at all of your friends and were overcome with emotion.

“I was right to think this baby won’t have a father.” you paused. “They’ll have six.”

Masterlist

[whoblewboobear]

In honor of iwtv!Rockstar Lestat I’m thinking about Rockstar Jace who takes a (honestly concerning) amount of interest in his new roadie/sound equipment manager Porter. After coming down from a month(s) long bender Jace is finally coherent enough to notice Porter during soundcheck. So he starts serenading him and getting super touchy feel-y. Porter kinda brushes it off, he’s toured with enough musicians to know they’re a special breed, ESPECIALLY the rockstars. But he’s a professional he would never-

That same night Jace is riding him in his dressing room and he does a bump of coke out of the dip of Porter’s clavicle and honestly? It shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Jace being this fucked up also shouldn’t be this hot either and Porter is spiraling a bit but Jace is so tight and so fucking batshit the entire night and Porter really cant resist fucking him 2(-4) more times that night. Next day, Jace goes on a little mission to bug Porter before his show and Porter is just so flustered. He’s trying so hard to do his job and make sure everything goes smoothly. He’s like “Mr. Stardiamond, we’re all working very hard to make sure you have a great show tonight so if you could just FUCK OFF for a moment that’d be great~” and Jace is like huh okay, no one but my manager Zara talks to me like this.. kinda a turn on. But he does as he’s told and fucks off until it’s time for the show. But he has plans for Porter. So many that involve throwing his money and drugs around and letting Porter put him in his place whenever he likes.

Once the tour wraps, he asks if Porter would like to help out while he records his album in his home studio because his last sound equipment manager didn’t make house calls (for reasons Jace doesn’t want to discuss. Maybe he’s done this before, no one needs to know he’s a walking HR nightmare, he’s a rockstar he can do what he wants.) Porter agrees because the pay is incredible and traveling is fun but it takes a lot out of him and honestly, the perks of him and a few of his industry friends helping Jace make another hit album seems like a fun gig. And maybe fucking Jace on every surface in his mansion is a very appealing idea. He can handle Stardiamond. He’s just like every other fucked up musician. But uh oh.. the more time he spends with Jace the more he realizes that he isn’t that bad. A fucking whirlwind, sure, but in the quiet moments when he’s writing songs at his piano or having a quiet smoke on the balcony or meticulously arranging audio and re-recording harmonies, Porter is so endeared with him. He didn’t start doing his job for nothing, he wanted to make music himself but never quite broke through. Jace is a wonder to him, he wanted to resent him for pissing away an opportunity.

But Jace cares about the music, he does. The drugs and the flashy clothes and the money are fun. Very fun, until they aren’t. When he’s not trying to numb himself to the fucking shithole the music industry is, he still has music to comfort him. He’s so meticulous and careful about what he puts out. Which his manager loves. She loves a lot about him but even Zara would admit there are days that she sees him and her heart just hurts because he’s so far from the Jace she grew up with and talked about their dreams with. All those late nights in college where they painstakingly put together his first ep going off nothing but Red Bull and sleep deprivation. She remembers the night they finally heard back from the label and she negotiated a contract that was less shitty and intrusive than what Jace would’ve signed had she not been there. She misses him and she does like how good of an influence Porter can be on him. She’s glad there’s someone else there that doesn’t enable him- not all the time anyway.

Porter’s glad Zara’s around when she can be because everyone else buzzing around Jace is a kiss up or an enabler, but not her. On the bad days, she’s the first one to show up for Jace when everyone else makes themselves scarce. Jace tries not to notice the minute people scatter when he’s not offering party favors or lavish nights out. When the dust settles it’s Zara and.. Porter. Much to his surprise. And he feels a little bad for how over the top he was with him. One night, Porter comes over when he’s putting the finishing touches on the melody of a song, really into it and lost in the way every key sounds together. When he finishes, Porter is clapping and maybe that’s the only applause he really cares about.

[happypot0001]

⚠️Character belongs to @just-a-carrot 🥕⚠️

OMGGG NOOO ORLAMMM DONT CRYY 😭😭😭😭

Pffft! Lots of love! 💕

CUT

HAAAA I made him look so dumb 😭😭😭😭

Pfffft omg this was soooo fun 🤩🤩💞💞!!!! 🥕 if you’re seeing this I’m so sorry for this abomination of a drawing 😆😆😆🥲🥲

GAAAAHHH Alright so you first may be thinking “Why is it a traditional drawing? All of Pots drawings have been digital??” Hah! I have an answer for you, my friend! So if you see my blog, you’ll see I said something about not being able to draw in one of my posts. I mean…yeah. The device that I usually draw on is currently unavailable to me at the moment 😭😭😭 so I haven’t been able to work on any of the art I have on my device 🥺🥺 After a good while of being bored and sad I couldn’t draw on my device…I soon realized…I can literally just draw on paper!!!! I probably should’ve realized it sooner but 😵‍💫😵‍💫 This actually hadn’t been my idea for my post though. I was going to do something really dumb and not at ALL OW related but I decided against it as the urge to draw Orlam overcame me pffft!

I actually didn’t want to draw Orlam because I wanted the first drawing that I share of Orlam to be a bit more special…but hey I hope this is special enough pfffft!! I have drawn Orlam before, I’ve just never really shared the drawing. The thing is, said drawing isn’t fully completed yet. I had an idea that I’m still working on and I wanted to wait until AFTER Art Fight to actually share it 😵‍💫 it’s nothing special but for some reason I sometimes convince myself that I can be humorous so I guess my little project is to test if other people think I am 😆😆 I’m going to try to note down every first I do on Tumblr so technically…this is my first time sharing a drawing of Orlam in his doodle form!!! Also my first time sharing traditional art so that’s a plus!!! 🤗

Literally could rant ALL DAY about Orlam but I’ll try not to pffft! “Contract Business Consultant and Entrepreneur” HELLO???? Like ORLAM LEVELED UP!!!! This is supposed to be a compliment to Orlam like IM LOWKEY PROUD????? If you give me like the timid, punching bag kind of character, I will ALWAYS be by their side until the end. I was lowkey rooting for Orlam I wanted the best for him 😭😭😭 AND HE GOT IT!!!! THEY ALL GOT IT!!!!! IM SO HAPPY FOR THE GANG OMG IM STILL CRYING FOR THEIR HAPPY ENDING 😭😭😭😭😭 Literally Orlam will always be the rat king 🐀👑 He will be OUR rat king and I will give him daily offerings 💎💵💴💶💷🧸🎁📱🖥️💻🏆 TAKE ALL OF IT ORLAM!!!!!

Heheeeee I don’t like picking favorites and especially not from the OW group but I won’t lie when I say that I was prooooobably looking out for Orlam majority of the game pffft! UGHGGHHHHH 🥕🥕🥕!!!!!!! Your characters are so easy to connect with!!!! The way 🥕 does everything is so amazing and I wish I could do something like them one day!!! Like their writing is ABSOLUTELY PHENOMENAL!!! Such an engaging story with engaging characters!! GAAAHHH I LOVE THE GAME!!!! Like I’m just saying…🥕omg I literally don’t know what to say anymore you have me starstruck from your game🥰🥰 SORRY IF YOU READ ALL OF MY USELESS RANTING I JUST LIKE TALKING 😭😭😭 UGHHH I LOVE EVERYTHING!!!!💕💕 WHOEVER IS READING I LOVE YOU TOO!!!! (Platonically😌)

☺️☺️ Lots of love to anyone reading once again!! 💕💕💕

[its-time-to-write]

ch. 2 - hustling for the good life

table of contents only reason I had the courage to post this is bc I saw another post that was like “bby you can write whatever you want.” so I did.

dancing is a dangerous game

Natalie comes back with these fluffy silver slides. They’re ridiculously comfortable and you’re not sure how she managed to find them so quick, but hey, that’s Nat for you. Her mantra is, “Comfort first.”

“You have to wear them with me,” she commands. “It’s in my contract. Plus, they go with your dress.”

You scrunch your face at her. “No it is not. I’m wearing my heels. There’s no way you’re getting me in public with those on my feet, much less a party with a bunch of famous people.”

—

“Ohmigod, I fucking love your shoes,” says Keeley Jones an hour later. 

Natalie smiles and points her toe. “Thanks!” she replies, “Had to convince this one that it would be fun. And thanks for getting us the invite, Keeley. Means a lot.”

Keeley shrugs. “Not a problem, babes. I’ve known Stella for a bit, and she hosts the best parties. Her boyfriend’s around here somewhere, and he always invites a bunch of his football friends. They’re pretty hot,” she says as she shoots you a pointed look. “Perfect for getting over a recent breakup?” she says pointedly.

You wrinkle your nose. “I’m not really looking for anything right now,” you admit.

“Or ever,” Natalie coughs.

“Fine,” you concede. “Or ever. I don’t really have time for another relationship between Mango and getting ready for the Blue Glass tour. Too much work.”

Keeley nods and says, “Ah. Last relationship was PR, was it?”

“Try last three,” you sigh. “But don’t tell anyone. They were trying to put out the rumor that I was getting engaged, but I don’t think that I could play with someone’s life like that. It’s just too hard. If I were to date again, I’d want it to be real. And private. But…” you shrug. “I’m me. I’ve had to fight tooth and nail for every ounce of privacy I currently have.”

Keeley shakes her head. “Well babe, they say there’s someone for everyone but for now, enjoy the single life! Go get a drink then meet me on the dance floor, yeah? My boyfriend isn’t here because he’s an old grump, but I promised him I’d have enough fun for the both of us.”

She talks about her boyfriend so affectionately that is stirs something in your chest. You think Keeley Jones must have the rare luxury of real love, and you wonder what that must be like.

“Come on don’t get all morose on me now, we’re getting smashed,” Natalie says as she drags you to the bar. You raise an eyebrow. “Ok, alright, I’m getting smashed,” she amends. “Keeley swore up and down the walls that this party isn’t going to end up on the internet, and I’m going to take full advantage of that.” 

You roll your eyes as Natalie herds you to an in-home bar and pushes her way through tall, muscly men. You admire her faith in Keeley, but you know that you can never be completely in control.

“Do you make espresso martinis?” she shouts above the din. The man behind the counter nods as you give her a strange look. “What?” she asks, “Don’t act like coffee and booze aren’t the best combo since peanut butter and jelly.”

She takes her drink and says, “We should go find Isaac and Stella so you can thank them for having you. You know, meet the hosts and everything.” 

“Alright,” you say, “but then we’re dancing the night away. Don’t need to be buzzed to have a good time.”

“But it’s better if you are,” she replies as she grabs your hand once more, weaving through what you assume are famous footballers, actors, and models. You wave to a couple people you know as she ducks under arms, effortlessly taking sips of her martini. 

Natalie stops in front of two people you’re pretty sure you’ve never met before, and you’re having trouble placing their faces.

She nudges you as she says, “Isaac, Stella, pretty sure you already know who this one is.”

They smile, and Stella leans forward to kiss the air beside each of your cheeks, which are a little flushed from Natalie’s presumption. You introduce yourself anyway, because you’re not going to assume people know who you are, for goodness’ sake. 

“Can’t believe you’re here,” Isaac says. “Fucking mental, you’ve been top of the charts for months now.”

Stella nods in agreement. “Me and the girls have been listening to Mango ever since it came out. I mean come on, Patch is absolutely gorgeous.” She catches your squirm of discomfort and continues, “But you must be tired of talking about all that. Don’t worry, darling, you can dance all your cares away. Everyone here is somebody, so no one cares who you are.”

You give her a small smile, grateful for her perception. “I’ll keep that in mind you say. Oh shit, is that Margaret? I’m going to go say hey. Haven’t seen her in forever.”

You excuse yourself to the other side of the room to grill Margaret about her relationship.

—

The night is sliding by at a glorious pace as you catch glimpses of Natalie flitting back and forth, making new friends and connections that she’s sure to use to your advantage later. 

You’ve passed a pleasant hour dancing with Keeley and Margaret but you get tired of it without the buzz of alcohol in your veins. You decide to slip into a corner and observe, relishing the sheer disinterest that people have you. You’re pretty sure you see a Beckham walk by, as well as an actress with a blockbuster summer movie.

Andrew would’ve loved this, you think and you allow yourself to indulge in a memory of your staged romance with the guitarist.

Andrew used to take you dancing. He’d pull you onto the dance floor and put his hands on your hips to help you move in time with the music. He was the kind of person where a touch never felt threatening, and it was actually enjoyable the way he’d slide a hand down your arm to sway you with the music. He’s the reason you can move as well as you do and can actually enjoy yourself without feeling self-conscious. 

You think of the song you wrote together, Ice, and how you thought your friendship with him might be the closest thing you ever had to love. Maybe you had just conflated admiration with adoration, but if he decided he had real feelings for you, you think you could have made it work.

But he had his own albums to promote, so your breakup was timed to bring in the most hits. You missed him, but still talked every now and then.

You silently thank Natalie for pressuring you into wearing those goddamn slippers because yeah, they’ve been getting comments, but as people get drunker, they stop caring about what other people look like and more about their own comfort.

You can catch bits and pieces of conversation, familiar voices mixing with the unfamiliar, and it’s soothing for a moment until it’s not. 

Without warning, the room is too hot and too stifling, and your skin is tight on your body and you can hear your heart pounding louder than the bass of the music. 

Fuck.

You look around for an exit, maybe a door to the backyard or something where you can panic unnoticed. You push your way to the kitchen and see a sliding door. It’s open and inviting, but it doesn’t seem like anyone’s outside so you take a step into the cool night air.

There’s a pool, so you take off the slippers, bunch your dress up to your knees, and dip your feet in.

The shock of the water combined with fresh air begins to slow your breathing and you take a moment to appreciate the relative peace, when a voice breaks the spell.

“Too crowded, innit?” says someone in an accent that’s definitely British, but not in a way that you can place. 

You turn to see someone sitting on one of the recliners. You must have missed him when you first came out.

“Nice shoes,” he says, getting up.

Don’t sit next to me, don’t sit next to me, you silently will him because anyone closer than three feet feels like choking.

He might be telekinetic because he sits three and a half feet away, trousers rolled up.

“Had the same idea,” he continues. “Isaac throws a mad party, but it gets all crowded and shit. And anyway, I still got training tomorrow. Or maybe it’s today.” He frowns. “Got no idea what time it is.”

You note that he seems to be personal friends with Isaac and that he mentioned training, so he must be a footballer. 

He also seems to be perfectly content to fill the silence without your help.

“I’m Jamie, by the way,” he says. “You’re American, ain’t ya? Heard there were a whole bunch of you coming. None of you appreciate good football.” He shakes his head in mock sadness. “Bet you don’t even know who I am, do you?”

You tilt your head to better assess his face in the darkness. You think he might be familiar, but maybe he just has one of those faces.

Jamie obliges your perusal by moving his head to better catch the light. “Don’t matter, love. Stay in Richmond long enough and you’ll see this sexy face all over.”

He studies your face for a moment. “You’re a musician, right? That new one with the album about the fruit.”

You chuckle and say, “I’d hardly say I’m new. That was technically my third album if you don’t count the singles. Did one called Rotary Phone first, but people didn’t pay much attention till the first single on Blue Glass. Turned out pretty good, too. But yeah, my new album has a fruit on it. Not really about mangoes, but…” You trail off. Those are the most words you’ve said to a stranger in a long time but Jamie doesn’t notice.

“Right, yeah, ok,” he says, “I remember your name.”

He pauses before saying it into the night.

You almost shiver.

You’ve never quite heard your name like that before.

It’s a little distorted with his accent, but the way he says it it’s almost- familiar. Like the way a close friend would say it. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” you reply quietly. “Big star, or something.”

Jamie nods. “Hm. Oi, you’re best mates with Taylor Swift!”

That makes you laugh. 

“Nah, I’m really not. People just think that because we both play guitar.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before Jamie’s disagreeing with you.

“You have to be good friends. I mean she basically co-wrote half of Blue Glass!”

“Tay was just featured in Creekside. She’s not listed anywhere else.”

“C’mon. Allie Gooding? The bird you have as one of your co-writers? You expect me to believe that’s not Taylor Swift?”

You raise an eyebrow. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Jamie gives you a look. “Allie? Alison? Taylor Alison Swift? It ain’t hard to figure out.”

You scoff as you tell him that he’s reaching. “You sound like a crazy conspiracy theorist.”

Jamie’s still looking at you like he doesn’t believe you, but he changes the subject. “What’s your favorite song you’ve written?”

“Margarita,” you reply without hesitation. “No contest.”

Margarita was on Rotary Phone and is more of a deep cut, but Jamie seems to know it because he nods in approval. 

“Mine’s Tiny,” he says. “I like that the words are about his heart but it’s really about his dick.”

You smile. Tiny was really fun to write. “Wait, hang on, how do you know so much about my music? You were acting like you’d barely heard of me.”

Jamie grins. “Didn’t want to freak you out, did I? A pretty girl’s a pretty girl, no matter the fame.”

You laugh at that and he joins in for a moment before becoming serious.

“Oi, but really, are you alright? Saw you come out here with your hand pressed to your chest, like.”

You take a shallow breath before answering with as much sparkle as you can muster.

“Oh yeah, totally. All good.”

Jamie raises an eyebrow and you raise one right back, but he isn’t backing down.

“I won’t press you, but I know what anxiety looks like. Gaffer- er, coach has it pretty bad.”

You’re saved from responding by Natalie staggering outside with Keeley on one arm. 

“There you are!” she shouts. “Been looking everywhere for you. See that one?” she asks Keeley, pointing in an exaggerated fashion. “That’s my best friend. My famous, gorgeous, single, bestie.” She notices Jamie and smiles. “You want to date her? She could use a boyfriend and maybe a couple laughs.”

You frown as you get up to rescue Keeley from drunk Nat. 

“No, I couldn’t. I’m good. And you should probably get home, young lady.”

That just makes Nat and Keeley giggle. “What is she, your mum?” Keeley gasps.

Jamie gets up too and makes his way toward Keeley. “Oi, Keels, better get you home safe so granddad doesn’t have a fit.”

She peers at his face before patting it and saying, “Jamie? When’d you get here? You trying to get with this one?”

“Nah,” Jamie says, “she wouldn’t be interested in someone like me anyway. Now come on, love, I’ll drive you home.”

He disappears inside with Keeley wobbling on his arm, loudly saying something about how he needs to be nicer to himself.

You sigh and reach for your phone to call the car.

table of contents

[bumblequinn]

Hi! Medium time listener (I followed after slarpg altered my brain chemistry), first timer asker! What is your process when it comes to composing for games? Is it any different when the subject changes (personal, commission, etc)?

hehehe, well i hope that alteration was a positive one! 😋

so i think there's kind of two sides to this: there's the creative process, and the collaborative process.

The Creative Process

my creative process is actually pretty similar whether i'm working on contract or for personal enjoyment.

first, i consider:

the needs of the prompt in front of me (is it a save menu or a boss battle? is it a tense scene is or a tender one?)

how it should fit into the bigger picture of the whole project (mood/tone, genre, leitmotifs, instrumentation, production style, etc)

what tools i will need to use (subtractive synth or sampler or soundfont or live recording?)

then, i typically write what i call a "skeleton:" just the barest bones of a piece of music. i almost always do this on piano, dividing the bass, harmony, and melody into very distinct registers. i do it this way for several reasons learned the hard way:

first, by dividing parts into clearly delineated registers, i'm saving myself a whole lot of trouble down the line. i have long had a bad habit of over-crowded arrangements, which besides being weaker from a composition standpoint, are also notoriously difficult to mix. and mixing is already hard enough as it is! so writing a strong and well balanced composition from the outset is the best way to go.

second: when you jump into arranging or mixing before the whole piece is written, it's much easier to get stuck. where should i take this track next? i dunno, guess i'll fiddle with the mix. suddenly a week's gone by and i'm still working on a half-written track. if i require myself to write the whole piece out first, then this bottleneck is almost always eliminated.

sometimes you can get really excited about an idea, get carried away with arranging and producing a whole track, get to feeling really attached to it—only for your collaborator to say it's just not the right direction. by limiting myself to one instrument, i don't put in a disproportionate amount of work before confirming whether or not the piece is actually a good fit. and bonus, if it's not a good fit then i have a piece of music written that can serve another project later (or another part of the current project, if i'm lucky)!

of course, i'm not always perfect about this. even very recently, i got really stoked about a track i was cooking up for susan taxpayer and went BANANAS with it—only for punkitt to say she loved it but it wasn't at all the right vibe. a hard but necessary reminder of why i try not to get carried away prematurely!

(don't worry, the one i made to replace it fit like a glove, and the first attempt is gonna be used elsewhere. love wins 😌)

once i do have confirmation that i'm headed in the right direction with an idea though, that's where i really get into it with choosing instruments, designing synths, figuring out the production style, etc. and there's where the real back-and-forth with my collaborator begins, to make sure things are staying on track every step of the way. that leads us to:

The Collaborative Process

for starters, and probably most obviously, different people are different to work with. everyone has different strengths and challenges both creatively and interpersonally, so i try to meet my collaborator where they're at and tune in to their specific needs, vision, and communication style. within reason, i try not to look at these things as being "better" or "worse" with one person versus another, just different!

i think the biggest differences for me as far as how much time and energy i invest into a project are A) whether it's paid or pro bono, and B) my own level of personal excitement about the project.

if i'm doing something purely for fun, it's pretty exclusively because i'm really hyped about the project. because, well, it wouldn't be fun if i weren't, right? and in that situation, i enjoy giving it my all! susan taxpayer falls firmly into this category, and i'm having a blast with it.

SLARPG started out pretty similarly, but as the scope of the project grew, it evolved into more of a pro bono arrangement; bobby and i drafted up a contract and negotiated on how we would split earnings from the game once it released, and that's where i've gotten the vast majority of my income this year. it remained a passion project til the end, but i could not in good conscience put that much of my life into a project of that size unpaid, no matter how much i loved it! (maybe one day, if we collectively defeat capitalism and i no longer have to worry about such things... 🥲)

things get a bit different when you get into strictly contract work, though. when it's something i'm doing for a client who's paying from the start and it's not for my own enrichment, i have more hard and fast boundaries on how much of myself i put into the project. i have specific rates, and offer only so many free revisions before charging additional fees. sure, i can be horribly particular and will revise something a bazillion times to get it "just right" if i'm working on a passion project, but i'm not about to do that for like. a corporate commercial or whatever lol

whether it's for fun or all business, though, i always try to make something i'm proud of. because i want whomever i collaborate with to have something they're happy with in the end, of course! plus i'm kind of allergic to phoning it in, i'm too extra for that 😜

________________

i'm sure i could go on, but i think i'll leave it at that! pardon the slow response, it took me some time to formulate my thoughts for this one. thanks for the question, and take care ^^ 🎵

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

What sort of jobs do you think the mercs would have if they weren't, y'know, mercs?

What Would The TF2 Mercs Jobs Be If They Weren't Mercenaries?

————————————————————

Ough, I love this. It's a very cool suggestion, Anon. Thank you for asking! I've thought about this a couple of times, and I'm glad to get a chance to rant >:)

————————————————————

Demo would get into pyrotechnics for a while, (shocker I know, but bare with me) he'd find himself setting up fireworks shows, making fireworks, teaching safety courses and all that fun stuff, but I don't think he'd be fulfilled in the same way being a merc would. He'd find himself being bored with the monotony of it all, only doing it for the money. After a while of this he'd finally just say fuck it, and try and look for other work opportunities, found an animal shelter in desperate need of new hires, submitted his application, and with in two weeks had become absolutely enthralled with his new job. He finds out he loves working with animals! He makes friends with every animal in the shelter right away, and gets a good chunk of them adopted each year or so.

————————————————————

Engie would have most likely gone on to become a very successful engineer. Shocker, I know. He would have probably specialized in biomedical engineering. I think he'd go in with no particular job in mind, but then would be introduced into the idea of building prosthetics and become a prosthetist. He likes being able to help people with his creations. (MINI HEACANON / STORY) The first time he ever made a prosthetic was for a little kid who lost his leg due to a car crash. He was super traumatized from the accident and refused to let anyone near him, Engie spent about a year working with the kid to, one be able to measure and fit him for his prosthetic, and two, to just make the kid smile and make him less scared. When the job was done the kid was so happy, grinning ear to ear, he hugged Engie and was literally crying out of joy, that's when Engie knew he loved his job 😭

————————————————————

Heavy has a doctorate in Russian literature, so I'd assume he'd go into the teaching field with that as his specialty. He'd find a university in need of a professor and work with students to help them better themselves. He just likes being able to share his experiences and perspective with those who want to learn. Very much a "Tuesday's With Morrie" type of teacher. Will literally do anything for his students by the way. He love each year he spends teaching, also loves hearing from his students after they graduate. Really just wants to make an impact on peoples lives anyway he can. He'd probably end up being a writer if he couldn't go into teaching for some reason. He'd write fiction mainly, maybe some life experiences too, for the same reasons above.

————————————————————

Medic would have found a way to get his medical license back, legally or illegally (most likely the latter). And went on to continue practicing medicine, most likely in a country with more lax laws on human experimentation. If that failed, the local morgue is always hiring graveyard shifts, and when no one really cares too much about what happens to the corpses, Medic would find ways to keep himself very entertained. I also think he could be content working as a librarian! I don't know, like the gap between librarian and doctor is huge but I can just imagine him and Archimedes running a little library together, (Kind of like uh Blue and Linda from Rio, I'm really pulling out random media this prompt, 😭) I just feel like even though he's batshit insane nine times out of ten he can still enjoy a quiet, peaceful life if he wanted too. Probably still does a bit medical stuff on the side though, you just can't stop him.

————————————————————

Scout is another case of me being unsurprising. He'd be a baseball star. It's really a toss-up on whether he gets super famous or just enjoys quiet success. If he's super famous you bet he's signing contracts for advertisements and other things you'd expect multimillionaires to be doing (He'd also be so thrilled to be a multimillionaire he'd be giving his mom her dream life) and just generally enjoying the fame. If he didn't make it into the big leagues, he'd still be successful in minor leagues. I'll even go as far as to say that even if he didn't make it big or even semi big, he'd become a coach little league/ high school /college and love it. Honestly, he would cry if one of the kids he coached went pro one day. (Maybe a Twitch streamer would also fit, but that's silly, right?)

————————————————————

Sniper has always been into wildlife photography. He absolutely loves animals. He's naturally good at photography. I think him having good aim and a steady hand are a mix of a natural talent and years of training. His years of training would have just gone into photography instead of, you know. He gets very good very quickly, takes pictures you'd see hung up as decoration pieces, and definitely had a fair share of curious animals wandering up to him to check out his work. For a guy who loves animals, he's living the dream. Haz had a few less than steller run-ins during his time, but generally appreciates being able to enjoy nature and animals as part of his job.

————————————————————

Spy being an actor would come naturally for him. He's great at switching his style, mood, character, etc. So he'd naturally be interested in a job where that skill would be valuable, then he finds out about how much money he can make off of acting and just goes straight in. I think he would end up being a really popular actor, people liking him in almost any role he plays, and would generally have little to no hater or bad press. He loves going over every new script and building up his character in his mind, then giving them a place off the page. He also loves going to fancy parties, so... Also, the first time he got a bad/negative review or comment on his acting, he cried lmao.

————————————————————

Soldier would so be a historian. Like, hands down, only job I think he could have outside of being a merc. He can rant for hours about American history and knows so much about other countries too due to their involvement with America and a general curiosity, that he'd be a perfect to teach about history in museums, classrooms, or even just uploading videos online. Just put someone who needs to learn about history of any kind in front of him, and they'll learn more in the time with him than they ever have. Also! I'm not sure what these people are called, and I'm way too tired to look it up, but I think that Soldier would help new immigrants with leaning English and with getting their citizenship. Solider would also help refugees. Also also, he'd hold support groups for veterans.

————————————————————

Pyro is normally headcanoned as a fire fighter or ex-fire fighter I'm pretty sure, but I think it's easy to forget that while Pyro likes fire, they like making firsvl, you know what else they like? Making art! So naturally, being a glassblower would be a great fit for Pyro. They love the job! The molten glass is mesmerizing to them. The artistic freedom is liberating. It's all just so great to them. They make a lot of flame themed pieces that and animal themed pieces. They mainly do pieces and sell them at markets instead of taking commissions for them. They're super happy with this life and have multiple pieces of their work displayed in their home. They sometimes get this feeling of missing something, like a vague memory, but they just continue to make new art to fix that, but oddly enough, they end up reminding them more of those distant memories. I wonder what that's about.

————————————————————

I swore I'd get this out today, and I held myself to that, even though I almost passed out. (Not me posting this 5 minutes to midnight lmao) I only had three paragraphs left, and I was not giving up on them. I swear I'm trying to get better at consistency 😭

Anyways enough of that, I hope you enjoyed this! I had fun writing it. Trying to come up with different jobs for them is both really fun and oddly difficult. Anyways! The schedule for new posts will hopefully go as follows:

Mercs favorite books

Medic and Creepypasta

How the Mercs would react to a close teammates death

(Then any asks that come in would follow!)

So yeah! Busy weekend, but I'm not complaining:D

[asthedeathoflight]

Okay so I was thinking someone should do something adjacent to this band au by @emilywaters but with Rembrandt as the lighting director but i fear that i may be the only person capable of this considering you know. Thats actually my job. But i have too many wips so you're getting this au in post form. Everything I changed from the original post is due to me writing out this entire post before I successfully tracked it down so like it's not me disagreeing I simply forgor.

I'm not sure what like level of fame they were supposed to be in the original but i need them to be doing stadium shows purely for Rembrandt's sake okay she deserves it theyre touring with an ma3 just believe me.

I think Cleon was originally their lead singer but she had to step down for. Reasons. Idk. So the Warriors are hard up bc their producer is on their ass about getting demos recorded for their next album but none of them really feel good about replacing Cleon.

Mercy is a mistreated burnt out pop idol who's just kind of getting listless at this point because she's basically just a prop for a brand and she can't even give a fuck about her music anymore. She meets Swan at a party and they hit it off and get blackout drunk and Swan wakes up the next day with a recording on her phone of Mercy doing a demo of one of the songs she wrote. She takes it in to their producer like here fine theres a demo are you happy and shes like??? Hello???? This is incredible??? Who is this singer??? And Swan is like hahaha. About that.

The producer reaches out to Mercy's management and theyre like um absolutely not she does not want to join your band she's a solo act but then Mercy gets Swan's number somehow and is like i DO wanna join your band actually but im stuck in this goddamned contract. So then its about them getting their record label to go up against Mercy's and get her out of her contract so she can be their new lead singer.

And also more importantly (to me) is the subplot about the like relatively young and inexperienced lighting girl from their home venue who Cleon insisted on hiring for their first tour and who just kind of stuck around and became part of the group. They tour with a disproportionately nice rig bc Rembrandt is a fucking nerd and none of them can resist her puppy dog eyes about getting shiny new toys. And like yeah she's kind of quiet and doesn't talk much in a group but she can hold her own against the fucking overhires giving her shit at whatever venue and not taking her seriously and she gets stars in her eyes when Ajax asks her about programming so like needless to say Ajax is a little bit obsessed with her. Rembrandt's job is half ordering around men twice her size and age and half real-time computer programming live in front of an audience. Ajax never stood a chance. There are always fans trying to see Ajax after the show and Ajax is always in the booth while Rembrandt talks about the latest patch grand ma pushed out and how she hates everything about it and everyone at that company is trying to ruin her life (she will have adapted and forgotten about this in two days until the next patch which alters her workflow .00001% upon which time she will again believe her career is over and she needs to call them to revert the console)

I think probably their relationship is more of a flashback moment bc obviously The Warriors can't be touring while they're looking for a new singer but I think when they're not on tour Rembrandt lives in Portland and does like weird indie performance art shit and Ajax stays in LA with Swan and the others and the long distance is kind of killing them. Could Ajax stay with Rembrandt in Portland for a few months and fly back down when they're actually recording stuff? Absolutely. Does this idea terrify her existentially for reasons she can neither articulate nor overcome? Also absolutely. But on a more fun note Rembrandt drags Ajax to USITT with her every year which is actually kind of fun for Ajax because in addition to Rembrandt being so excited nobody there is impressed at all by her being famous but they ARE impressed that she knows how DMX works. So. Who's laughing now Swan. The flashcards worked.

[sourstroll]

Summer Of Cum 2023

Day 4 - Come Inflation

Pairing: Daniel/Charles

WC: 914

❀❀❀❀

Charles shifts in his seat, clearing his throat for no reason in particular, trying his best not to show the mixture of arousal and nervousness on his face. It's only a day until he and Carlos are set to race in Australia, so they’re at Albert Park, sitting in on some meeting that he didn’t think he really needed to be there for. He listens vaguely and scribbles whatever random words he hears just to make it seem like he cares. Charles crosses one leg over the other and has to stop writing. The plug inside of him shifts too, pressing into his prostate, his eyes closing to try and gather himself.

Carlos catches him first, gives him a strange look when he sees the weird chicken scratch on his Ferrari-branded notepad. He’d noticed Charles was slightly off his game today, his mind somewhere else.

“You good?” Carlos leans in and whispers into Charles’s ear, raising a brow at him.

Charles startles at the voice in his ear and looks at Carlos like he’s the weird one, nodding his head and forcing a tight smile onto his face.

“I’m great, mate,” Charles insists, looking back down at his notepad so he could hide the embarrassed blush on his cheeks, wishing Carlos would just drop it.

Carlos decides it probably isn’t worth getting into right now and squints at Charles, letting out an unsatisfied hum before looking back at the man presenting.

———

Charles's breaths were harsh, forcing out hot puffs of air as Daniel pistoned into him. They’re too loud, wet, slapping sounds coming from their stall in the cramped bathroom, Daniel’s breathing just as ragged. They’re in some random bathroom in the paddock, one that had seemed dead and empty before they called it their home base for the day.

Daniel needs this to be dirty and fast, before anyone else decides to join them and ruin their fun. He’d waited several months for his and Charles’s schedules to finally converge, and he was going to take full advantage of the fact. Daniel knew it wouldn’t have been hard to just follow Charles around the world as he raced, but they had to be careful about it. It wouldn’t make sense for Daniel to be at every race if his contract didn’t say so, so he played it cool, played the waiting game.

“You’re so wet,” Daniel grunts and reaches up to grab a fistful of Charles’s hair, pulling a pitiful sob out of him. “You fucking love being filled up with my come, huh?” Daniel growled into his ear, already close to his end. It was an incredible feeling, fucking his own come back into Charles, feeling velvety and slick around his cock.

Charles can’t find the words to respond, not when his body feels like it’s made of red-hot lava, not when he’s tensing and squeezing tightly around Daniel, shooting his load all over the floor and toilet below them. Charles doesn’t say anything, just whines and tries not to pass out from the euphoria he feels.

Daniel is content with the way he made Charles, ruined him completely for anyone else, reduced him to nothing but a hole to hold all of his come. “You’re unbelievable,” he chuckled softly. He comes in a few more strokes of his hips, adding to the two loads already inside of Charles from this morning. Daniel plans to do this a couple more times before the day ends, just to be able to see Charles swollen with his seed.

Daniel pulls out nice and easy, slowly so he could catch anything that dripped out with the plug he pushes back into him, fit with a pretty, pink jewel on the end. “I’ll see you tonight, beautiful,” he purrs, still pressed close behind as he helped Charles pull his pants back up, buttoning them and zipping them up from behind.

“Be good for me.”

———

Charles is laid back on the plush seats of his hotel bed, completely naked. His legs are spread, knees bent, hands clasped obediently above his head. He’s looking up at him with teary, glittering eyes, silently pleading for Daniel to touch him. Between his legs, the plug sparkles in the low light of the room.

Daniel is knelt on the bed in front of him, also naked, just staring, taking in Charles’s perfect body. He’s all freckles and soft skin, his belly unusually round where there was supposed to be abs, full of Daniel’s come. “I wish I could actually get you pregnant,” Daniel sighed dreamily and scooted forward, one hand gliding down Charles’s inner thigh and the other going to grip his hard cock, looking small in his large hand.

Charles doesn’t know how to admit that the thought of Daniel impregnating him made his head spin and his cock ache, trying to stay still as Daniel touched him. “Me too,” he smiled softly, looking down at his belly, bringing a hand down to rest on the bulge and gently pressing his fingers into his flesh. “You would fuck me until I’m about to pop, pervert,” he teases, welcoming the weight of Daniel’s body as he leaned down to kiss him.

Daniel laughs at that, nibbling Charles’s bottom lip. “Think you can handle one more load?” Daniel asks lowly, lips just centimeters from Charles’s face.

Charles doesn’t even have to think about it, just nods frantically and bites back a yelp when he feels Daniel start kissing trails down his neck.

❀❀❀ Previous Days ❀❀❀