Ada 🫧⭐️🪷

🫧⭐️🪷 Masterlist...

⋆˚꩜｡ Ultimate Fighting Championship...

Headcannons: Islam Makhachev — NSFW Alphabet Khabib Nurmagomedov — NSFW Alphabet Islam Makhachev — FWB HCs Khamzat Chiamev — FWB HCs Various fighters — Babysitting HCs Various fighters — Filming TikToks HCs

Oneshots: Islam Makhachev — "Baby Fever" Khabib Nurmagomedov — "His Little Wife" Khamzat Chimaev — "Babying" Various fighters — "Family Game Night"

Bonus blurbs: Fake texts with Khamzat Chimaev The strange kavkaz boys across the hall...

⋆˚꩜｡ Game of Thrones...

Headcannons: Sandor Clegane — FWB HCs

Oneshots: Sandor Clegane — "Fight For Us" Sandor Clegane — "Sinful Decisions"

⋆˚꩜｡ Dune...

Feyd-Rautha — NSFW Alphabet

⋆˚꩜｡ Peaky Blinders...

Luca Changretta — "My Wife"

⋆˚꩜｡ The Pitt...

Brendan Park — FWB HCs

🫧⭐️🪷 Fandoms & people I will be open to writing for in the future (feel free to request any of the following)...

UFC: Nate Diaz, Sean Strickland

ASOIAF: Twyin Lannister, Jamie Lannister, Theon Greyjoy, Aerion Targaryen, Maekar Targaryen

TWD: Daryl Dixon, Rick Grimes

AVATAR: Miles Quaritch

The Gentlemen: Raymond Smith

The Pitt: Jack Abbott, Michael Robinavitch

Hemlock Grove: Roman Godfrey

Music celebs: Axl Rose, Central Cee

UKYT: WillNE, W2S, ArthurTV, ChrisMD

🫧⭐️🪷 Rules for requesting...

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Islam Makhachev

The "I just found your friend on Hinge" trend

You two are on the couch at home having designated social media doomscrolling time. Your legs are lying lazily atop of his as he mindlessly rubs circles on your thigh with one hand, the other holding his phone. You sneakily line up your camera hit record on TikTok

"Oh my god. I just found Amru on Hinge!" You pretend to look shocked at your phone screen. Islam doesn't even budge, too engrossed with whatever wrestling reel he's watching. "Hinge? What's that?" "You know, the dating app. I can't believe he's on there!"

Islam now looks up from his phone. But it has yet to register in his brain as he stares off into the distance, thinking hard about Amru. "I mean... He is single... But why a dating app? He is handsome, no? Why does he not just.."

He finally snaps his head towards you, brows furrowed and lips downturned in a scowl. "Wait! Why are you on a dating app!"

You burst out laughing as Islam lunges over to grab your phone, only to realise that you had been filming him the entire time. He tuts disapprovingly and tosses your phone aside, giving you an exhausted but amused smirk.

"That is not funny," he says, feigning offence as he pouts. "I knew Amru would never go on a dating app..."

Khabib Nurmagomedov

The "This is my current boyfriend" trend

You and Khabib had just come home from a shopping spree — it was Khabib's treat after being away for training camp. After every shopping spree, it was mandatory that you did a haul for your private TikTok account (which Khabib had grown used to and actually actively participates in).

You two sit on the floor in between your living room couch and the coffee table so you could prop your phone up and film the two of you. Khabib gets comfortable, adjusting all the shopping bags in front of you for easy access before spreading his arm out casually across the couch cushions as you hit record.

"Hi guys! Welcome to another haul! So today, my current boyfriend and I went to the mall at —" Khabib immediately flinched and reels his body back from you in horror.

"What did you say?" You pause, trying to hold in your laughter. "What? I said we went to the mall today." "No, before that. What did you call me?"

You're practically biting down on your lip now trying to contain your giggles, and that just gives the whole prank away. The look of utter shock on Khabib's face starts morphing into a look of amusement.

In the blink of an eye, Khabib jumps at you and wraps his arms around your shoulders. He basically has you in a rear naked choke as he smothers one side of your face with slobbery kisses. "Stop!" You yell out, laughing so hard your ribs are starting to hurt. "I need to film my haul!" "Current boyfriend. Don't ever say this bullshit again."

Usman Nurmagomedov

The "Pretending he forgot about date night" trend

Usman had just gotten home from a midday training session, and as you hear the familiar sounds of his footsteps walking towards your bedroom, you quickly hit record on your phone.

"Hi baby — Oh! Are you going out?" You're sitting at your vanity in front of your phone with a beauty blender in hand, pausing your concealer application to look at Usman through the vanity mirror. Fully committing to the bit, you let your shoulders sag as a disappointed pout appears on your face. "You forgot?"

Immediately, Usman's face drops. You can see the gears in his head turning furiously trying to remember what it is that you're talking about. To no avail. So you double down. "Usman, I can't believe you forgot about this. I've been talking about date night for weeks now!"

You feel almost bad as Usman sputters helplessly trying to find the right words. "Baby! I — I promise you... It's not that I forgot! I just... Wait...." He whips out his phone and scrolls through his calendar app, only to find today blank with no reminders. Now Usman knows for a fact he always, without fail, marks down date nights in his calendar solely to avoid moments like this. And when he looks up from his phone, he spots your phone screen recording and his mouth hangs open.

"Are you pranking me?" You can't help but laugh as Usman throws his hands in the air, absolutely defeated. "You are horrible! I nearly died there!"

Umar Nurmagomedov

The "Asking if you can order fries at a restaurant" trend

You and Umar were out at a burger chain restaurant for date night. You two were sat across each other in the booths looking at the menu when Umar raises his hand to get the attention of the waiter. You smile subtly and set up your camera at the edge of the table.

"Hello. Can I get a beef double cheeseburger with Coke Zero?" The waiter, a young teenage girl, nods diligently as she jots down Umar's order on her notepad. Umar looks up at you expectantly, a genuine and loving smile on his face.

"Hi. I'll have the chicken burger with ranch sauce please, and..." You look up at Umar, faking a look of concern on your face. "Babe, am I allowed to have the fries today?"

Umar's jaw drops open in dismay. He looks frantically between you and the waiter. "What? Of course! I swear I've never — When have I..." He starts to gesture wildly at you, eyes wide and panicked. The waiter, who obviously knew about this trend, covers her mouth with her notepad and stifles a laugh before nodding and walking away to the kitchen.

"Babe!" Umar whisper-yells at you as you erupt in laughter. "You can't do that! I let you eat fries all the time!" You start tearing up with laughter, unable to even answer him. Umar simply rolls his eyes. He isn't angry more so than he is entertained by your antics.

"You know what?" Umar raised his hand and catches the waiter's attention again. "What're you doing?" "I'm ordering you two portions of fries since you wanna be funny now."

Khamzat Chimaev

The "Saying I want to go home" trend

You're over at Khamzat's apartment all tangled up in his bedsheets. Khamzat's sitting at his desk across the bedroom. He had just bought the new UFC video game and he was playing it on his PC for the past two hours while you doom scrolled on his bed. You angled your phone at him and pressed record before faking a big yawn.

"I think I'm gonna go home." Khamzat, who had his headphones covering only one ear, abruptly paused his game and turns to you. "What?"

"I said I think I'm gonna go home now." Khamzat immediately takes off his headphones and walks over to you, his eyes full of worry. "What. No no no, don't." He pleads softly as he climbs onto the bed to lie on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry. Did I take too long on the game? I stop now. We can go sleep now." He mumbles, hugging you tightly. You stifle a laugh as you turn the camera to film him — it's such a rarity to capture this soft side of your boyfriend. "Yeah? You wanna cuddle now? My little baby..." you ask with an exaggerated baby voice.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

fwb!Park who had been harbouring a keen interest in you for some time. It wasn't exactly a crush (or at least that’s what he tells himself), but more of a budding curiosity. You’d been an OR nurse in his orthopaedic department for almost a year and Park couldn't help but feel oddly drawn to your side — so he hovered. He watched the way you worked with a level of attention only meant for you and lingered longer than he should when you talked to patients post-op. It's all he could do without crossing workplace boundaries... At the time at least...

fwb!Park who wasn't as subtle with his little obsession than he thought he was. It was hard for you to even pretend to be oblivious of the pair of eyes burning into the back of your head as you briefed your patient about their procedure, or the way Park always stood so close to you during consults and prep time that your arms touched and it drove you nuts.

fwb!Park who offered you a ride home once from PTMC when it was pouring outside. You were a little quick to accept his offer, which only amused the Shark even more. And when you invited him up to your apartment that night, Park knew that he had struck gold. The elevator up to your flat was packed with people coming home from a long day’s work, and as more people squeezed into the tiny metal box, your back was basically pressed up against Park’s front. Your hand kept brushing against his inner thigh. Accidentally, of course. And when the elevator jerked slightly, Park instinctively reached out to grab your waist. His large calloused hands were firmly gripped around you, his thumb moving in small but noticeable circles, tracing your flesh. That was the moment you knew you were done for. 

fwb!Park who, the moment you two stepped into your apartment, had slammed the door closed behind him and pushed you up against the empty wall. You instantly grabbed the back of his neck, yanking him down and kissed him hungrily. The man devoured you like he'd been starved of your touch for years. His hands were shoved up under your shirt and groping you all over. It was sensational — the way he touched you and muttered your name between each kiss, his erection pressing so hard against his pants and leaving a stain of pre-cum at his crotch.

fwb!Park who fucked you so good that first night. You guys did it against the wall, your legs wrapped around him as he supported your entire weight with one arm; You guys did it again against your dining table. He had you gripping the edges of the table, legs spread apart as he held your hips firmly and thrust into you from behind; And you guys did it again on your living room couch, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he stretched your cunt out for the third time that night. And that was just the beginning.

fwb!Park who would find any excuse to fuck you at work. He'd send you on pointless errands to the supply room just to get you alone in there and bend you over against the counter. He'd drop a text telling you to meet him in the handicap toilet, and when you locked the door behind you, he was on his knees, telling you to drop your pants and stand over him so he could eat you out right there. Everything about it was wrong and undignified and lustful. But it only made you want him more.

fwb!Park who, since the start of your little arrangement, started specifically requesting for your assistance during all his operations. This was a novel move by the Shark, who typically didn’t even like nurses getting in his way during an operation. Your charge nurse thinks he has it out for you, but little does she know that Park just uses this as an excuse to have you by his side at all times. It gets to the point where if you’re assisting another surgeon when Park needs you, he gets visibly agitated, and best believe everyone is walking on eggshells for the rest of the day. 

fwb!Park who, after every operation you assist him in, will pull you aside and give you a rundown review of your performance. He doesn’t do this to any other nurse. Not even to his own interns or medical students. Just you. He'll pull you into a secluded hallway or an empty supply store and stand abnormally close to you, two fingers lifting up your chin so you can look into his eyes properly. "Don't ever talk back to me like that again in the OR, or do I have to teach that pretty little mouth of yours another lesson huh?"

fwb!Park who is absolutely a biter in bed. The idea of marking you as his all over your beautiful body just drives him mad. And he takes his time with it too. He traces your soft flesh with his steady, practiced fingers, deliberating which parts of your body have yet to be mapped by his mouth before sinking his teeth deep into your skin until tears pool in your eyes.

fwb!Park who also definitely has a size kink with you. Just the way your body is totally engulfed beneath him makes him feral. He relishes the way his massive hands can fit so easily around your throat, or the way you're practically doing the splits when you ride him. And when you pass by him casually in the OR and he has to tilt his head down just to look at you, he's immediately reminded of how easy it would be to just throw you over his shoulder like a ragdoll and demolish you in the room next door. But he can't. And now he's hard with no opportunity for release any time soon (here comes grumpy Park!).

fwb!Park who is an incredibly attentive partner. He prides himself in being attuned to your needs and is always striving to provide for you. Need an extra towel to clean up? He's already gone off to the linen closet to get one. Need a glass of water to hydrate? He already preempted this and has a standby cup waiting on the nightstand. "You know, I'm a bit hungry after all that." "Hmm? Oh yeah. I already ordered two pizzas before we started. Should be here soon."

fwb!Park who made you break the no-staying-over rule of your arrangement just three weeks in. After making you come twice, he pulls you onto his chest, twirling your hair between his fingers as you catch your breath. It's quiet in a way that feels comfortable and domestic. When you move to get up, Park just rolls over on top of you, totally crushing you under his weight. You squirm to free yourself, but you're no match for a man of his size. "I need to go," you say as your face is smushed between his bicep and the mattress. "You can try," he says, smirking as he buries his face into your hair. You didn't try.

fwb!Park who is usually a very dominant man, and he definitely can be, but those rare times that you're the one ordering him around like your personal plaything — demanding him to strip and beg for you on his knees, or telling him to shut up as you ride his cock to completion — let's just say Park has never come this close to experiencing religious divinity. He also loves it when you tell him how good you feel. The more vocal you are in bed, the more enthusiastic Park gets. "Is it good princess? Does my cock feel good in you? Huh? Tell me. Use your words."

fwb!Park who downloads a period tracker on his phone so he can track your cycles. At first you think it's because he wants to avoid fucking during your ovulation phases, but then a box of chocolate and a tub of ice cream get delivered to your apartment the day you enter your luteal phase, and then a bouquet of flowers on the first day of your bleeding. It melts your heart.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

For better or for worse, Sandor Clegane was not a gentle person. His temper had propelled his career as a guard, no doubt, but there were times when he wished he hadn’t been born such a hothead. Since taking you as a wife, Sandor had been getting much better at handling and regulating his anger. With many hours poured into helping him open up, Sandor was slowly starting to learn how to communicate first and sulk later. But sometimes, when your fights got heated, his anger would slip through the cracks. 

In the early days of your relationship, the topic of your fights were always about his line of work. As much as you tried to hide it from him, Sandor always knew that you despised his service to the boy-king. Because of this, Sandor often chose to lie to you about certain parts of his job, and that just infuriated you even more, fuelling your disdain for the kingsgaurd. When the pent up frustration and agitation came bubbling to the surface, you and Sandor never held back; profanities were exchanged, dishes were hurled across the room, doors were slammed… It always got messy.

Sandor would come home with blood stains on his armour and linens, and brush it off as if it were no worry. “It’s not my blood, if that’ll stop you from harping on,” he’d say gruffly as he shrugged off his soiled clothes. “Gods Sandor. How can you do this? And for the Lannisters of all people!” you’d reply, a harrowing sense of shame rising in your chest as the idea of your husband hurting another human being — deserved or not — crept into your mind. Sandor would bark back and the rest of the week would be spent in an endless back-and-forth war.

Although lately, your fights have slowly started to center around Sandor’s jealousy. You and Sandor had married young, and you were once hailed for your beauty as a bride. You possessed an astounding charm and elegance that men, including and especially Sandor, could not help but be captivated by. And he loved you for your beauty. But you would be a fool to say that your marriage had not been the talk of the town for a cruelly long time. Who could have imagined a girl so young and so enamouring as yourself would bed a man so horrifying and grotesque as The Hound? 

At first, Sandor had barely paid those whispering rumours any mind. He was one of the most feared guards in the realm, why should he pay any attention to the gossip of lesser handmaidens and old housewives? Sandor was assured enough by the ferociousness of your love and devotion as a wife that no one could sway his opinion of your loyalty. But with age came change; the stumble in his gait, the softening of his jaw, the scars and flaking skin from his wounds. And while you seemed to stay as radiant as you were on the day of your wedding, Sandor had slowly become lost in his own insecurities. And so now, the whispers of doubt and creeping looks from other men felt like a living threat; a threat that Sandor could do little to fend off. 

“You’re acting a fool, Sandor,” you said with gritted teeth, hands on your hips, too angry to sit beside your husband at the dining table. Sandor only scoffed and shoved another piece of chicken into his mouth. 

“I’m only a fool because you’ve fucking made me one. To think my wife is going around town laughing with the butcher’s son like some common fucking wench while I work to put food on the table like a fucking cuck.” 

You threw your hands up in disbelief, outraged that Sandor would ever throw these accusations at you. “Right. And my husband is such a fucking saint is he? Just doing the Lannisters bidding like a right fucking—” 

“Like what?” Sandor growled, rising from his seat. A beat of silence passed between the two of you, only the sounds of your heavy breathing and the crack of the fireplace could be heard. Sandor towered over you, and for a split second, you were almost afraid that he would strike you. But he only grunted and brushed past you to the front door. 

“Ungrateful whore,” he muttered, almost to himself, but loud enough for you to hear. 

You snapped your head towards him. Your eyes burned with anger and betrayal. “Say that again and you will never hear from me again, Sandor Clegane,” you spat. Sandor looked at you then, just as furious as before, but he would not repeat his words. With a slam of the door behind him, he had left the house. You would go to bed alone that night, sobbing into your straw pillow until your lungs hurt and you felt like heaving. 

Reconciling after a fight was almost always the hardest part. Sandor’s first instinct after every fight was to ignore the immeasurable tension and agony that passed between you two. Deny, deny, deny. You would wake up the next morning, eyes swollen, nose congested, and stumble into the common area only to find Sandor donning his guardsmen clothes ready for the day. When you fail to greet him with a lover’s embrace, Sandor would upturn his lips and shrug. “What’s with the mood huh?” 

You only glance at him with eyes like daggers. “You called me an ungrateful whore last night, Sandor. Don’t be daft.” 

Sandor shifted uncomfortably where he stood. “I would never say something like that. Not to you,” he said, almost like it was one big joke to him. But you didn't laugh, and your silence was somehow more piercing than if you had lashed out at him. 

You could see the gears in Sandor’s head turning as he scrambled for the right words to say. “Seven Hells woman, you're killing me here. So what, you're just gonna ignore me the rest of our lives? Am I to live out my days as if I took the Black and never married?” His voice got louder with every word. Desperate. But not desperate enough to apologise. You knew his pride would never allow it. Was this the man I truly married?

“Is that what you want?” You asked in the softest voice. 

Sandor was at a loss for words. You knew your question had crossed a line. Fight for me, you pleaded in your mind, tears welling up in your eyes once more. Fight for us. But Sandor’s pride would not allow him to apologise. At least not yet. Alas, the brave and valiant Hound could do no more than mumble something incoherent before disappearing out the front door, leaving you alone in a miserable silence. Your chest was heavy with exhaustion and it took every ounce of strength in you not to break down. 

For the rest of the day, you busied yourself with menial tasks in an attempt to distract yourself. But you could not think of anything other than your husband. Oh, how you missed him. When things were good, Sandor could be the most devoted and loving husband in all the Seven Kingdoms. You often pitied the old housewives in the village who lamented about their burdensome husbands. Sandor had never demanded anything of you, never laid a hand on you, never took you for granted. So then how was it that it had come to this? That he had walked out of the house with no hesitation when you challenged the foundation of your marriage? Was his silence his twisted way of giving up? All these wretched thoughts raced through your mind from dawn till dusk.

You thought Sandor would not come home that evening. He did that sometimes — after a big fight he’d disappear for a day or two, Gods knew where he went — but tonight he returned to you. Your back was against the front door as you stirred a skinned chicken inside a pot of boiling broth for dinner. The familiar jingle of wind chimes outside your front door stirred your attention as Sandor entered. As he crouched slightly to fit through the door of your cottage, you spotted the bundle of wildflowers in his hand. They were crooked from too tight a grip on its stems, but they were beautiful nonetheless. Blue and yellow and white like the colours of a noble house’s banner. 

Sandor didn't say a word as he crossed the room and placed the flowers on the dining table. There was a pause. You reached out to touch the flowers. They were as fresh as plucked flowers could be, still damp from the night’s drizzle. 

“They’re beautiful,” you mumbled, breaking the silence and offering a tired smile to him. 

Sandor inhaled deeply and clasped his two hands in front of him before he began to speak. “From the day I met you, the last thing I have ever wanted was to leave you. That is a thought that has simply never crossed my mind. I would call you ridiculous for ever suggesting so this morning, but perhaps… Perhaps I have ridiculed myself.” He took another deep breath before continuing. “You are my everything. My light, my life, I mean, fuck, you drive me insane, woman. I don’t even know why you married me; Sometimes I think the Gods have only allowed me one fortune in life and that’s you.” He began wringing his hands together, but his eyes had never left yours from the beginning. “So when some poor fucker comes whispering in my ear that you’ve warmed up to some other man, I think to myself; What if that’s it? What if she’s finally seeing her worth and realising that I’m just some sick fuck clinging onto her like dead meat? I just… I can’t… I can’t lose you…”

Your eyes stung with tears. But they were not tears of sorrow any longer. 

“Sandor…” You rushed to throw your arms around him, embracing his warm body like you had a million times before. Sandor’s body immediately relaxed as he wrapped his big strong arms around your torso, lifting you off the ground with ease. The weight on his chest had disappeared as soon as he felt the warmth of your cheek to his. 

With Sandor carrying you in his arms, you cupped his face with your hands, both thumbs soothing the rough skin on his cheeks. “Sandor Clegane, you stupid, stupid man. How could I ever love anyone else but you? I would die before I let you leave me, and you would have to pry the name Clegane from my cold, rotting corpse before I part from what is mine. I love you.”