#collective oneshot

[wandasaura]

GOLD THATS IN YOUR EYES

summary — you’ve known natasha romanoff since she first defected to shield, but it’s taken you years to realize that you’ve loved her since then too

warning(s) — fluff, mentions of the ohio mission, hurt/comfort

prompt — finding excuses to be alone with each other x noticing their individual quirks

song — mood ring by kira kosarin

🌞⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰🧺꒱ 🌷 ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Natasha Romanoff was not a very sociable person, in fact, she was quite the opposite. Most people would be surprised to learn that the infamous ex assassin was admittedly somewhat of an introverted homebody, preferring the chosen silence of isolation over bustling crowds where judgment ran wild. For a woman with such a bold way about her, she was admittedly rather soft. She was soft in the way she moved around the kitchen when nobody was around to watch her frolic through cabinets on the balls of her feet, arches deep and perfect, and heels exquisitely raised above the floorboards. She was soft in the way she spoke, too. Her words were always calculated, always direct, and blunt enough to be chalked up to dry humor, but if you listened closely, if you closed your eyes and let the weight of her spoken sentence weigh on your heart in the way she’d never intended for anybody to actually do, you’d notice the soft hitch to her tone that was endearingly Russian, and the way her nose twitched whenever she wasn’t sure how a comment would be received by the masses. Natasha Romanoff was a lot of things, but an arrogant agent was not one of them; not that she’d ever admit that. 

You supposed that she felt a crippling need to assert herself as if she were in a position of calculated authority. Some could say that she was in a stance of power, having been deemed not only a level six agent but also an Avenger by time she was twenty-nine, yet even with the moniker of being the only reformed Black Widow to escape Dreykov’s grasp, Natasha was never the authoritarian she prided herself on being when others were around. Granted, you were never one to challenge the way she raised her chin when she was at the center of a room full of men, and you were never one to comment on how her shoulders squared defensively whenever someone took a step to close for comfort. She radiated confidence and certainty, but beneath all of the hurt that she had turned into defensiveness, she was merely a woman that had been wronged and burned by every bridge she’d ever dared to build. You saw her as such, she knew that you did, so maybe that was why she never tried to act that way with you. It was an unspoken mutual understanding that all bets were off when fate brought you two together. 

Natasha Romanoff played a lot of games. She liked the challenge of breaking down her opponent before they had the chance to break her down themselves, but the second anyone got too close she pulled a mask over her features and her bleeding heart became a loaded gun. You’d never met someone so guarded in your life, and yet she placed all cards face up on the table whenever she got you alone. Natasha Romanoff was not the sick and twisted woman she allowed the general public to believe she was. She woke up screaming from nightmares bi-weekly, the rasp in her gravely tone not natural but consequential. She closed her eyes whenever she washed her hands in fear of the clear water becoming red with the blood of her innocent victims. She stepped only on the tiles that she knew were silent, scared to make ripples in the water and alert attention. People who didn’t know Natasha Romanoff would say she was something similar to the atrocities that occurred beneath the midnight sky, but you would say she was the shadow of sweet flowers that disappeared after sunset. 

You noticed every miniscule detail there was to know about Natasha Romanoff, but you know that she noticed every detail about you as well. She noticed the way you avoid going out in the rain when it’s cold, and how none of your socks ever seem to match even on missions. She noticed how you migrate down to the kitchen in the ungodly hours of the morning just to bake pastries for the team to eat at breakfast, usually cinnamon rolls or blueberry muffins with a crumb coating that Wanda particularly is a fan of, but eventually, she’d unraveled that your little habit wasn’t merely because you wanted to be hospitable toward the people you fought alongside with when extraterrestrial disasters fell to earth, but rather because your mind needed something to focus on when the nightmares of human travesties became too paralyzing and suffocating to handle alone in the dark. The first time her attention to detail became apart was a gloomy day in November, the leaves not all fallen from trees but the air frigid enough to belong in a barren January day. At that point, you’d fallen into a routine of going out for a run through central park each morning, always returning with not only a coffee for yourself, but one for her as well, but with the downpour of raindrops the size of nickels, you’d chosen the lower level gym as your route that day. Natasha wasn’t much a fan of the rain, but she never minded freezing temperatures. She found you in the debriefing room that early afternoon, her hair sodden and crimped from pallets of rain that fell overhead, but in her hands were two cuts of still steaming coffee from your favorite little cafe. She’d tried to say that she was just in the area, but you knew that she had gone out of her way to assure that at least part of your morning remained unchanged throughout the storm. 

Your relationship with Natasha had been an unspoken arrangement for as many months and years as you could remember, but recently things had changed. You’d always found yourself alone in a room, two friends existing within the same space naturally, but lately even that hadn’t felt so innocently charged, and you were as much at fault as Natasha was. The Russian lingered in the kitchen just to watch as you mixed together batter for muffins that Tony would eat half of, but you hung around in the lower level gym just to hand off a water bottle when she completed her workout. Any excuse either of you could grasp onto just to spend a few uninterrupted minutes together had been abused and properly overused, but there was no admission of feelings anywhere close to the tip of your tongue. 

There were some days that passed, even now years later, where when you looked at her beneath the kitchen lights, or against the punching bags, you only ever saw the broken woman that Clint had brought in from the KGB. She’d been merely a shell of herself at that time, fiery red hair matted with knots and the blood of her targets, face smeared with dirt and gunpowder. You hadn’t been on base when she’d been dragged in wearing heavy metal shackles and dehumanizing cuffs, but Maria had filled you in on everything prevalent regarding Fury’s newest asset. It had taken you three weeks to run into her when you returned, traumatized from the loss of your team and spiraling into shallow thoughts of death and finality, but from the very first moment you’d never seen her as a threat, and she’d never seen you as the lucky survivor that walked away from a raid. Her eyes were soft, softer than the wings of a newly hatched butterfly, and when she stood beneath the sunlight on the deck of the helicarrier, accent thick and sweet like the spring breeze that carried pollen beneath its current, you’d seen the daintiest twinge of gold within the green of her eyes. Maybe it was at that moment that you’d known you wanted to spend your entire life at her side, or maybe that had come much later, but what you’d definitely realized in that first month of knowing her, was that she wasn’t as complete as she wanted everyone to assume she was. There was so much despair and longing beneath her mask of confidence and casualty, so many agonizing emotions that she’d never fully overcome. There were times where you wondered what could be missing from her life that even now, deemed a hero and residing amongst people that just wanted to do good by the world, but you always circled back to the heavy acknowledgement that aside from you and Clint, nobody truly knew Natasha Romanoff. She’d spent her entire life beneath the thumb of power hungry generals, and when she’d gotten a taste of freedom and self identification, she’d conformed to be the woman that everyone else wanted her to be. 

Some days however, you saw someone entirely different beneath her eyes that still held specks of gold when the sun fell upon her the right way. You saw a woman that was confident albeit flawed, painfully witty although reserved enough to hide within the walls when she didn’t want to be seen fully. But sometimes when you looked at her, you saw a woman yearning to love in the fullest sense of the word, and that broke your heart the most. She had never been shown unconditional love, never been held softly yet tightly, never been allowed to love back. Natasha Romanoff had been taught that love was the greatest weakness any woman could surrender herself to, and yet she was finally at a point where she wanted to experience the tragedy of loving something temporary. Death was unavoidable, she’d learned that young, but love transpired through isolation even if it never felt entirely complete again. For the first time since you’d met Natasha, she wasn’t scared to submit herself to the experience of loving someone to a fault, even though it meant she could very well lose it all tomorrow. Even if it didn’t seem like it to others, you noticed the subtle ways that she made progress as the years progressed, and each time you looked at her and saw a willingness to explore emotions rather than suppress them, you wanted nothing more than to squeeze her tight and be the one to teach her how to love. 

“Hi.” Your voice was soft, delicate as it filled the otherwise silent kitchen. You’d heard her sneak up behind you minutes ago, but only now did it feel like the right time to greet her. She was close, but too far, pressed against the island in the middle of the kitchen whilst you stood beside the sink, hands full of strawberries that Tony had asked you to turn into something delicious. You’d rolled your eyes at the billionaire who had made a habit of soliciting you for pastries, but here you found yourself in the kitchen anyways, trading hours of sleep for muffins that would be gone by the early afternoon. “Wanna help me?” You laid the freshly washed strawberries on a clean kitchen rag, falling into the process of patting them dry without much thought or intention. All of this came so naturally now; she came so naturally now. 

“I, um, I could actually just go for a hug. If it’s not too much trouble for the busy, Chef.” Her voice was hoarse, scratchy and thick as it fell onto your ears. Without the running tap, you could hear the quiet hitch in her breathing, wheezing exhales falling out into the space between your warm and yearning bodies. Your eyebrows furrowed, hands abandoning the strawberries in an instance. In all the years that you had known Natasha Romanoff, in all the years that you had seen her in the aftermath of a nightmare, she had never asked for a hug. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’d ever hugged her, and they’d all been for your own selfish reasons. You spun around to face her, palms dragging across your pajama bottoms and riding the water that clung to your palms so you could embrace her fully. 

You hadn’t spared her a single glance when she’d first entered, wanting to give her the chance and time to make herself known by her own judgment and comfortability, but now that your eyes traced the delicate shadows across her face, you could make out the unbridled tears brimming in her eyes. She was ghastly pale, a fitful sleep indicative by the deep bruising beneath her eyes. You’d never seen her so distressed, but for a single second you thought about how she’d chosen to seek you out instead of trailing down to the gym and bullying a punching bag like she’d gotten into the routine of doing. 

“Can I touch you?” You asked carefully, not wanting to make any sudden movements and spook her back into her shell of isolation. This was progress, and selfishly you wanted any excuse to pull her in close and hold her tight. When she nodded, a weak and fragile incline of her head, you closed the gap between your bodies and melted into her chest. She held you protectively, like she’d needed to feel you to ensure that you were safe and real. A single hand reached up to cradle the back of your head, and her lips found a home on the crown of your head as she inhaled your scent deeply. “You know you can always ask for hugs. Not just because you had a nightmare, but whenever. I mean that.” 

Natasha cleared her throat, though she simultaneously tightened her grip around your waist as if whatever she wanted to say would be enough to make you either run away or disappear entirely. You didn’t comment on it, letting her have the time she needed to get her thoughts in order. You grabbed onto her sleep shirt, tight fists bunching up the material and holding it possessively. Natasha felt the motions, felt the way the cotton shirt hugged her belly tighter now that most of the slack was taken up by your grip, and you smiled softly against her chest when you felt her breath out evenly.  “Today’s the day we left Ohio.” She started, and immediately your head shot up to search her blue eyes. You’d heard little about Ohio, even littler about the little blonde haired sidekick Natasha found herself protecting for three years, but you knew that what had happened had ruined her. You knew that something as little as moving away was never as simple as it sounded for her. “It was spring break. I left without being able to tell anyone I wouldn’t be coming back. They- They ripped Yelena out of my arms. I– I will always come back for you. You’re the first place that has ever felt like home outside of Ohio. I just– I needed to tell you that I’ll always come back to you.” 

“I will always come back for you.” You meant every word that you said, but you could see a cloud of disbelief hanging over Natasha’s gaze as she let your eyes meet again. There was something different about ehr now, something softer and smaller than you’d ever seen. It wasn’t unpleasant, but you couldn’t bear the thought of her so distraught, you especially couldn’t bear the thought of what she had looked like at only eleven. She’d been so young and the world had been so cruel, you just wanted her to know that she was loved, and she was cherished now. She wasn’t just another soldier anymore. “Nat, can I kiss you?” 

She froze for a minute, arms slackening around your waist as she stared deep into your eyes, an onset of fresh tears threatening to fall from her own, but before you could withdraw your question, before you could backtrack and excuse your vulnerability as simply being exhaustion, she was pulling you impossibly close, settling both of her hands on your cheeks as she cupped your face and settled her forehead against yours. Her touch was familiar and foreign at the same time, a coming of age to all the daydreams you’d fallen into with her at the center of them all. You’d thought about this moment for months, thought about how her calloused palms would feel against every inch of your skin, her she was always cold but not uncomfortably so. Now, beneath the kitchen lights and her greenish-gold gaze, you realized that you’ve wanted her since the very first moment you met her. “I thought you’d never ask.” Her lips, still impressionable with sadness, curled upward into a smirk, but you didn’t waste a second to kiss it away and show her the truth about love and connection. 

Natasha Romanoff had kissed more people then she could keep track of, but never had any of those intimate encounters come voluntarily. For so many years her life had been a means to the mission, but she was free now. Finally, she was entirely free. In so many ways, more than you could even contemplate, you were her first, and desperately you hoped that you would each be each other's last.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x avenger!reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff oneshot #collection: spring fling

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords _ Part 1.5

[Alastor & Other Overlords x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

Okay, I think this needs to be set clear before there are future parts since no one asked about Reader’s/your presence in the show was. While you never made a formal appearance until in Part 1, which is after the battle with Heaven, you were hinted here and there.

Pilot: 

The beginning scene where Carmilla opens the curtains, showing Zestial, Zeezi, and Lucifer in the same. Then the scene of the Vees, and Rosie. There are eyes staring at them. Like just eyes

When the clock tower resets the extermination day, eyes opened to eye the new countdown before closing just as fast

During when Vaggie talks about “ancient and destructive evils”, your outline as a puppeteer is shown above all the Overlords

Episode 1: Overture

N/A

Episode 2: Radio Killed the Video Star

Alastor laughs at Sir Pentious that seeking to join the Vees was a terrible decision since their standing as Overlords was rocky and unstable. He taunts that Sir Pentious wouldn’t be able to hold the title as Overlord or fit in, referencing the Collection of Elites

Episode 3: Scrambled Eggs

After Zestial and Alastor were done with their chat like on the show, Zestial remarks that Alastor was very brave to go missing for 7 years but also remarkable that he was still in the Collection as per the mark on his soul

When Overlords are seated, they inspect the others to make sure the group was still intact and without change. Also reporting that there was no sighting or word from you, to their disappointment

After Velvette left, Zeezi laughed that the Vees’ days might be numbered with that attitude, Rosie chuckles and shrugs, saying that it wasn’t their decision or say in the matter

When Whatever It Takes is done, Zestial suggests for Carmilla to contact you on the matter since this was out of her hands. Carmilla sit back down on her chair, holding out a pendant with an eye design on it

The Egg Boiz reported to Alastor that Carmilla was the one to kill the angel and that she may contact someone, telling Alastor that Carmilla might have someone to back her up without knowing that Alastor know who it was implying

The same Egg Boiz didn’t mention you to Sir Pentious and only Carmilla killing an angel

(behind the scenes: you instructed for Carmilla to continue as always and maybe provide help to the hotel if she deemed it worthy)

Episode 4: Masquerade

When Valentino is offering a place for Charlie to star, he mentions how it could make him rich and show his dues to you without specifically mentioning you. Valentino’s a bit condescending when he addresses Charlie because he only sees you to be the one in higher power and rank

Valentino threatens Angel, hinting how he wouldn’t have some weak Princess or contracted soul ruin things for him. Meaning he is aware that he’s on thin ice with your interest and favour. Also implying that Charlie was nothing for him to fear, because he fears your wrath more

Valentino laughs how Charlie has no real power compared to what he faced with, confusing Angel since he has no idea of your involvement in the Overlords’ circle

While Husk was mentioning about his Overlord status, for the first time you’re mentioned, he talks about The Collector. “But when you’re dealing with souls while also being a gambler, the stakes are pretty high. I was warned about that, but when you’re winning, you don’t hear that kinda stuff. In my place, I lose a few hands and it got dangerous that I didn’t even know. When you’re down on your luck, you turn to anything to keep you afloat. Even making deals yourself.”

“What happened?”

“Turns out, I was long abandoned. And I wasn’t in the group anymore when I have that last deal. Like the fallen Overlords before me, I was hunted for being disrespectful and arrogant. Now I’m here.”

Episode 5: Dad Beat Dad

“Big talk for someone who’s also on a leash.”

“I should have torn your soul apart and broadcasted your screams for every other disrespectful wretch who dares to abuse My Liege’s mercy and generousity! You were lucky your former Liege was merciful enough not to let your death happen.”

When Lucifer’s lecturing on Charlie about the hotel, he mentions how it lacks the power and authority needed to make it work. It’s referencing to you teaching Lucifer how to rule as the King of Hell when he first arrived

Episode 6: Welcome to Heaven

N/A

Episode 7: Hello Rosie!

(behind the scenes after Vaggie left, Carmilla grips on the pendant and hopes she did the right thing that wouldn’t disappoint you)

Episode 8: The Show Must Go On

The the Vees celebrate, they explicitly cheer for joy and anticipation that Alastor would be removed from the Collection of Elite while eyes were staring at them without their knowledge, also mentioning how they’d rise in ranks (favour)

Alastor’s breakdown is more centered around the possibility that he knew you were always watching and saw his defeat and shameful retreat, for his actions, he might fall from your interest and favour. He fears he’ll end up like Husk

When the news of the canceled extermination is being broadcasted to all of Hell, your silhouette was shown by a window with eyes closed and a small smile on your face. “Time to check in.”

Note: You can ignore this or not, but I had to at least put this out cause some Overlords' actions are a bit different, namely Alastor's breakdown reason.

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

@mistpurpl3

@plutobots

@ray-rook

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #alastor fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel overlord #Collection of Overlords #hazbin hotel rosie #rosie hazbin hotel #overlords #hazbin #zestial #carmilla hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel zestial #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla x reader #hazbin carmilla #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vees

[zeroeightzeroone]

i'm proud of you - han jisung

love collection

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

synopsis: after a long day and an even longer past couple of weeks, jisung needs you

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)

warnings: ji is stressed

wc ~2.2k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

j.one<3: i need you i'm coming over i'll be there in 30

you: i'll unlock the door in 25

taking into account how busy jisung has been the past couple of weeks and the way he's texting you, something is going on with him.

its that time of the year when stray kids are preparing for their comeback and for the past couple of weeks, along with the other members' schedules, jisung's schedule has been packed to the brim. he's been in and out of the recording studio, the dance practice room, attending interviews and pre-recordings to prepare with the rest of the boys, basically working non-stop.

of course, jisung loves his job and is grateful for the opportunity to write, produce and release his music–something he is very passionate about–to the world. but at the end of the day, much like any other job, it can pile up and become incredibly overwhelming. sometimes, you have to take a step back to breathe and return to a better headspace.

along with your boyfriend's schedule, yours has also been packed to the brim. thus, neither of you had the opportunity to spend too much time with the other over the past couple of weeks. the extent of your time together consisting of short, sweet text messages throughout the day, if you were lucky a short phone call before bed to exchange goodnight's.

jisung has reached his limit, he's hit a breaking point. he knows that if he doesn't get at least one night to take a break he may go insane. he needs to take a step back, he needs to take a breather, he needs you.

being one-third of 3racha meant chan had the opportunity to see jisung a bit more than the others, which also meant he had the opportunity to see jisung's well-being take a critical hit and suffer as the days went on. seeing how the boys were exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally, chan immediately went to the company to talk with their management and request they take–at the least–a day off.

despite jisung having a key to your apartment, you unlock the door twenty-five minutes before his expected arrival. and a little over five minutes later, he's standing outside your front door and softly knocking to notify you of his arrival. the knocks prompt you off the couch and onto your feet, making your way to the entrance as jisung shuts the door behind him.

your assumption that something is going on is only confirmed when jisung avoids your gaze while discarding his shoes, no words leaving his pouted lips. it's clear he isn't in the best place mentally or emotionally, while you aren't a hundred percent sure of the details, you do know that–much like his texts–he needs you and that you'll be there for him in any way possible.

now that his feet are only clad with his cotton socks, jisung takes a couple steps towards you and places a lingering kiss on your forehead, his shoulders relax the slightest bit as his hands find yours. when he pulls away, he's still avoiding your gaze, but being with him for as long as you have; you don't take it personally. hand in hand, jisung trails behind you as you walk through the apartment and into your bedroom. following quietly and waiting patiently whilst you approach the dresser, pulling out a pair of his sweatpants from the drawer of his clothes.

you turn to him, glancing down at his black denim jeans, "it'll be more comfortable? it's up to you though."

jisung extends his arms and takes the sweatpants out of your hands and into his own. he quickly changes out of the jeans, which are now in a pile on the floor and into the grey sweatpants, you turn to climb into your bed but jisung's hand is suddenly wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.

your head cocked in confusion, you stare at your boyfriend.

jisung, who came over clad in a black hoodie, quickly removes the thick fabric from his body. the white long-sleeved shirt he wears underneath rises along with the fabric before it slumps back in place once the hoodie is discarded. you watch jisung with curious eyes as he steps towards you, pulling the hoodie over your head, the fabric bunching up around your neck and shoulders.

he can definitely see the way your cheeks are burning up.

your boyfriend moves your arms around, pulling them through the sleeves before he adjusts the thick fabric around your body. a hum of satisfaction leaves him before he crawls into your bed and makes himself comfortable under the covers.

jisung loves you in his clothes, that fact stays consistent no matter how he's feeling.

snapping out of your daze, you follow suit and crawl under the covers next to jisung who chooses to be the small spoon today. his arms wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your stomach. you feel the way his body relaxes the slightest bit as he nuzzles into your side, pulling you impossibly closer to him. one of your hands ends up in his dark hair, gently carding through the shaggy locks whilst the other one gently caresses his cheekbone.

a wave of comfort washes over jisung at the feeling of your fingertips grazing his scalp, coupled with the feeling of your arms around his body, holding him close, your warmth radiating onto him as a trembling breath leaves his lips. once again, jisung nuzzles into your side but this time to his his face in the fabric of the hoodie. hiding the way his already glossy eyes brim with tears along his waterline, the warm droplets soaking up into the thick fabric. the first whimper that leaves jisung has you immediately holding him tighter, continuing to run your fingers through his hair and reminding him that you're here.

your heart aches at the sound of your boyfriend's cries.

being with jisung for as long as you have, you knew not to take his habit of avoiding your gaze personally. you're very familiar with his habit of avoiding direct eye contact with anyone when he's feeling down or particularly stressed out. you aren't entirely sure of the reason why, but you believe that what isn't seen in jisung's other facial expressions is shown in his eyes. thus, when he is upset or down, avoiding eye contact also means hiding the inner turmoil that is clearly present in his eyes.

with how observant you are, jisung became aware early on in your relationship that it didn't take you long to pick up on this habit of his. it's now something you look out for whenever jisung is feeling distant or in the dumps, it took a while but you eventually found a couple of methods that worked best when jisung fell into this distressed state.

over the years, you have become a lifeline in jisung's life. you are his place of comfort, a home where his heart belongs, where it feels safe. which is precisely why he avoids making eye contact with you in an emotionally sensitive state. the sight of your warm and welcoming eyes would result in an immediate breakdown. the way your eyes sparkle up at him, swimming with concern and a yearning for him would immediately break down his walls, allowing him to be vulnerable around you. allowing his emotions to spill out into your open arms, ready to be a pillar of support for him.

for the next couple of moments, you continue to run your fingers through jisung's hair as he holds your body close and cries into your side. when his sobs gradually become hiccups and sniffles, that's when you take the opportunity to say a couple of words.

"if you wanna talk about it, i'm here," you say softly, "if not, i'm still here."

you crane your head to look down at your boyfriend who moves his head to look up at you, his round eyes puffy and glossy, his eyelashes clumped together with tears. jisung nods, a small smile playing on his lips–one that's more genuine than the others he forced out earlier.

"thank you," he sniffles, his voice is the slightest bit raspy.

you shake your head, moving the hand that isn't in his hair to his cheek to wipe some of his tears. admiration bubbling up inside when jisung leans into your touch.

the both of you fall into a comfortable silence, relishing in the presence of your lover and the warmth that radiates off their body. a presence and a feeling that your busy lives have depraved you both of the past couple of weeks.

despite prolonged periods where you and jisung are deprived of physical affection from the other due to your busy schedules, being able to be under the other's touch, cradled in the other's arms for even just a few moments feels like a reward for all that's been accomplished in your separate lives. being in the arms of your lover exudes a feeling of comfort, and tranquillity, that eventually everything will fall into place, a feeling of reassurance that your hard work is paying off.

sometimes you find it crazy how a simple touch from jisung can turn everything upside down. you could be having a terrible day and he could pull you into his arms and all of a sudden your day ends on a high note.

jisung shares the same sentiment, after weeks of grinding through work that's been piling on and on, being with you, in your arms is just what he needed. you are just what he needs.

you watch with curiosity as jisung moves higher on the bed and onto his back. he locks eyes with you and extends his arms in your direction.

"i wanna hold my baby," he opens and closes his fists, beckoning you into his hold.

you hesitate for a moment, thinking you're here to comfort him. but your boyfriend notices your hesitation and takes it upon himself to pull you into his arms. you rest your cheek against his chest while he holds you tightly. you adjust your head and look up at your boyfriend, whose eyes are still puffy and slightly red. he scrunches his nose when he looks down at you, indicating that he's feeling much better than when he first arrived.

you giggle at his antics.

jisung places a hand on your cheek, much like you did earlier, and caresses your cheekbone gently. gazing down at you with clear adoration in his eyes, unbeknownst to your boyfriend, the corners of his lips tugging upwards as he looks down at you.

he sighs, "work's been a lot lately," you nod and he continues, "i want to make sure i'm putting my best foot forward and doing my best work but it's hard when there's so much going on. i don't wanna disappoint you, the other members, stay."

he takes a moment to think.

"at the same time, i know it's unrealistic to think i–or anyone really– could possibly please everyone. there's always gonna be people that aren't pleased with the things you do and that's life, right?"

your eyes scan over your boyfriend's face as he walks both you and himself through his thoughts.

"which is why i shouldn't be scared of disappointing people if i choose to take a break, to take care of myself when things get overwhelming," he sighs, "but at the same time it's so hard to break out of the mindset where taking breaks means not being productive, i'm so used to thinking that way, you know?"

you hum in acknowledgment, "i know, baby."

"at the very least, i realized sooner rather than later this time. i'm able to take a break earlier instead of further down the line."

"i'm proud of you for taking a much-needed break. you've been working so hard, love."

"thank you, my y/n," jisung's eyes sparkle down at you.

"i understand how you feel, i get like that sometimes to, which you know already," he nods, "i know how hard you work and stay knows how hard you work to give them and show them your best work."

you adjust the position you're lying in so you get a better view of jisung's face.

"i've seen the work you've put out and ones that you haven't yet, they're all amazing. absolute works of art and a testament of your hard work, passion and dedication to your craft."

your boyfriend's eyes dart away from yours as his cheeks flush, heart skipping a beat at your words. jisung always gets quite flustered when he hears kind words praising his work, but he gets particularly flustered when he hears them from you.

"you do your best when you also feel your best. it's definitely easier said than done to extend the compassion and value to yourself since we are, are own biggest critics. nevertheless, i'll be here to reassure you that stay would love to hear that you were able to rest and take breaks in the middle of working hard. i'll always be here to tell you that you're working so hard and are more than deserving of a break, to rest."

jisung leans down to place a kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment before he pulls away with a lazy smile.

"you've been working so hard, you've been doing amazing. you're doing so well and i'm so proud of you, han jisung."

#stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids one shots #skz imagine #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz han jisung fluff #skz han fluff #stray kids han one shot #stray kids han imagines #stray kids han imagine #stray kids jisung one shots #stray kids jisung one shot #stray kids jisung imagines #stray kids jisung imagine #skz jisung imagines #skz jisung oneshot #skz jisung oneshots #skz jisung imagine #skz jisung fluff #hjs love collection

[ohsjy]

Hey can i have request of enhypen and the lipstick stain trend on tiktok (gf kissing bf face all over).

your lips 〰 enhypen

sum lipstick stain with enhypen!! pairing bf!enha x reader genre fluff warnings kissing!! note thank you for requesting this anon!! i had fun creating scenes with this prompt!! i hope it's good enough :) ( not proofread ) ( archive )

001 lee heeseung

you had perfect idea. heeseung loved your kisses but you wondered if he would ever get tired of them. so you rushed to your bedroom where he was writing something in his journal. you sat next to him and then began the kissing!! you kissed his cheek first, then his nose, eyes, forehead, and so on. heeseung was confused, wondering why you were doing it. he giggled when you pecked his temples and went down to his lips. he grabbed your cheeks, stopping you for a moment. 'what are you doing?' he asked, very confused. 'loving you'

002 park jongseong

jay had his back towards you while he was cooking your favorite dish. you suddenly wanted to show him some love so you walked to him and pecked his cheek. at first it was just a token of your love but then you got an even better idea. you started kissing his cheek over and over. jay smiled but then suddenly as you went to kiss his cheek again he turned to kiss your lips instead. you blushed and lightly smacked his shoulder. 'when i finish cooking we can kiss more.' and he sent you off with a wink

003 sim jaeyun

jake was humming a song while folding the clothes. you had seen a trend on tiktok of kissing your boyfriend all over his face so you decided to do it. you ran up to him and started attacking him in kisses. one kiss here one kiss there. jakes face was a deep shade of red but little did you know you were about to be attacked as well. jake held your face in his hand and started kissing you everywhere causing you to be the one who was flustered. lipstick smothered on both your faces as you might've just showered each other in love.

004 park sunghoon

sunghoon was busy fixing his hair. he had washed it earlier and now he was trying to fix it up. he wanted to look good for you though he'd never tell you that. the bathroom door was open so you walked in. his eyes met yours through the mirror and he gave you a soft smile. little did he know you were about to attack him. in kisses ofc!! you started kissing his lips first before moving around his face. sunghoon stood still, shocked at how fast his heart was beating. you continued kissing him, chuckling to yourself at how flustered he got. you stopped shortly after, a smile peeking from your lips. sunghoon couldn't meet your eyes he was waaaay too flustered. when he looked in the mirror he noticed light lipstick stains on his face, making he fluster even more.

005 kim sunoo

sunoo was spraying his perfume on before getting ready to go shopping. you were gonna stay home and clean since you had no intention to go shopping with sunoo. he begged you but you hadn't felt good so you declined. sunoo walked to the living room to give you a kiss before you left but instead he got multiple kisses. ones on his cheek, ones on his lips, nose, and jaw. he stared at you for a little before smiling. 'i love you too'

006 yang jungwon

jungwon had made a mistake. he bought you this rosy lipstick to which he thought you would look good in. which you did but when he woke up from his deep slumber he was shocked. he had walked to the restroom to freshen up a bit when he saw his face. it was covered in red as you kissed him everywhere. he stared at himself for a few minutes before silently gushing at how much he loves you.

007 nishimura riki

ohh riki. he didn't know what was coming he way. he got home from a long day and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. he laid on top of you, exhausted. all he wanted to do was rest but he was gonna get the opposite of that. instead, you cupped his cheeks and began kissing his face softly. riki felt comfortable with your kisses, even falling asleep. but when he heard you giggling he opened his eyes. he noticed you had lipstick on which only meant one thing.

© i0912

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen headcanons #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fluff #heeseung x reader #jongseong x reader #jaeyun x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #riki x reader #ohsjy ☆ collection

[astralnymphh]

⁶⁶⁶ DOM!ELLIE COLLECTION ⁶⁶⁶

⛧ .aestra's archive of every single time ellie dommed you. . .⛧

I. RUIN YOU ☠︎︎ II. SKULLFUCKER ☠︎︎ III. CARNAL COLLISION ☠︎︎. IV. PUSSY SLAPPER ☠︎︎. V. "DON'T CLOSE YOUR LEGS." ☠︎︎ VI. BEST DECISION ☠︎︎ VII. FACES OF FACIALS ☠︎︎ VIII. LOTUS ☠︎︎ IX. UNDER THE NEEDLE ☠︎︎. X. PHEROMONES ☠︎︎ XI. BUBBLY SWEET ☠︎︎. XII. KNEELING FOR HER ☠︎︎ XIII. HAPPY PUSSIES SQUIRT ☠︎︎ XIV. PARADISICAL ☠︎︎ XV. NECTARY NOTES ☠︎︎ XVI. SUN SMOTHERED TAN ☠︎︎

feel free to send asks and add to the list!

#ellie williams #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras collections #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #dom!ellie #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams masterlist #ellie williams oneshot #ellie smut #tlou ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams x reader smut

[zivazivc]

my brainrot about these two can be measured in liters

#dreamworks trolls #trolls #ex bandmates #trolls oc #hed #les #my art #this drawing is very old already but i really wanted to write a oneshot to go with it #because i have story in my mind that led to this particular moment #but ALAS. no motivation for writing #lets just say he had a shit class meeting about their end of elementary school prom where he got singled out and everyone collectively... #...decided that he can't participate in the traditional dance because he's too short (unless. an asshole classmate proposed. he finds... #..a dancing partner in like the 2nd grade. and the class teacher looked thoughtful instead of reprimanding that student.) #basically no one not even his friends stood up for him and it made him feel like a class nuisance they were trying to sweep under the rug #living in vibe city made him such an outcast in general. he did a lot of crying over wanting to be a funk troll and fit in :(( #and of course les would blame himself for every one of his problems #ughuguguhugh #i have shed physical tears thinking about these two idiots who can't let go of resentment for each other but also love each other so so muc #fuck i'm crying again #someone put me out of my misery

[sanguinesweets]

syzoth x reader brainrot below the cut

• Your first kiss is kinda weird. Syzoth isn't used to giving/recieving affection in his human form, so your faces bump into each other a few times before you finally meet your target. His eyes are open the whole time, and you try to hold back giggles as not to discourage him.

• As he becomes more accustomed to kissing you, makeout sessions also become a thing you tutor him on. He seemed curious the first time you slipped your tongue into his mouth, not disliking it but also not really understanding it. So you guide him in moving his mouth against yours, and it doesn't take long for his prehensile, forked tongue to slip past your lips as he wraps his arms around you.

• Sometimes his long, scaly tail makes an appearance out of nowhere, even when the rest of his body is visibly human. You have learned through accidentally petting it before that it is... a particularly sensitive zone for him. You still blush when you think about the soft moan that escaped his mouth the first time you ran your fingers along the individual scales, hard muscle lying underneath.

• Syzoth is gentleman when it comes to kissing and caressing you... until you ask him to do otherwise. When you urge him to be a little more rough, to leave marks along your neck and grind down into you like an animal in heat, well, he can certainly deliver.

• Foreplay is also a newer experience for the Zaterran, at least in his human form. When your encounters start to get spicier, you have to show him the ropes a little here and there, but he's a quick leaner.

He takes immense pleasure in fingering you, the smell of your arousal driving him wild as he elicits whines and moans from your slackened jaw. Eating you out also becomes one of his favorite activities (and yours as well), as his tongue can drive you absolutely wild and make you cum like no one else ever has.

As for recieving, he's a little shy about it at first, but with time opens up to your gentle caresses and strokes, being driven wild whenever you have your hands on him. It's a constant struggle for him not to cum immediately when you take his length into your mouth, his pale green eyes rolling back into his head and legs shaking beneath you.

• He's very versatile when it comes to sex. There aren't any complaints if you want him to top you (though you do develop a system of how hard you want it, after a while, as some days you want to get dicked down like it's mating season, others, you want it nice and slow). Although he'll blush bright green if you point it out, he absolutely loves it when you're on top, and enjoys holding on to your waist as you ride him.

• He's a cold-blooded boy, so he'll definitely choose to snuggle close to you after activities, or during the night, to share some of your heat and take a little nap.

• Taking him to Walmart and buying him a tupperware of live crickets from their fishing section (his fav snack).

#my drabbles #syzoth #reptile #mortal kombat #syzoth x reader #sorry this is more a collection of thoughts than anything else #i have ideas for oneshots but i'll incubate them here intil i have the brain power #mk1 #human syzoth did a number on my psyche #nsf/w

[zenzenzence]

HEY! FELLOW AO3 AUTHORS! STOP DOING THIS!

idk how else to illustrate this than making a fake, unpublished example fanfic —

STOP DOING THIS! PLEASE!

POST YOUR ONE SHOTS SEPARATELY! ESPECIALLY IF THEYRE FOR DIFFERENT FANDOMS/SHIPS!

***Tags selected randomly for making a quick example***

Stop posting random one-shots into one work. Stop making Chapter 1 a Table of Contents. Stop tagging multiple pairings/fandoms/additional tags etc when you haven’t even POSTED the chapters they would apply to!

This spams tags and 9 times out of 10 I avoid these fics on sight and don’t even bother digging through the fic to see if the oneshot is something I won’t even want to read.

These fics should be reportable for spam if they aren’t already.

I’ve started completely muting authors on sight for this now because I’ve personally had enough.

#archive of our own #ao3 tags #ao3 #fanfiction #tagging etiquette #otw #organization for transformative works #fanfic #one shot #oneshot collection #stop it #zence.txt #i am at my limit #!!! #don’t bite my head off over the specific tags I used in the example #it’s supposed to be obnoxiously random and all over the place because that’s the point

[obstinaterixatrix]

my sister started writing a oneshot collection and I was telling her that This Was The Dynamic Developed

#mob psycho 100 #serizawa katsuya #reigen arakata #serirei #the oneshot collection isn't specifically serirei. but in my opinion. My Bias Bleeds Through #fanfiction #sister bloggin' #my art

[lokisgoodgirl]

Mischievous Creatures [Brodinsons]

Part of the Brother Collection A link to my regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: A grumpy Loki is forced to pet-sit by Thor, and an unexpected friendship blossoms. (w/c 1.8k) Warnings: Fluffy bro-stuff. Generic dog description, runs on the small side. Mild peril.

Loki grimaced, gritting his teeth. His eyes squeezed shut while a hand flew up against the assault of intrusive sunlight. “Brother,” he hissed, groaning against the pillow. “Must you continually be such a harbinger of accursed agitation upon my-”

“-Ahhhhh!”

Thor released an infuriatingly cheerful sigh. His arms were spread, holding the curtains wide. “Tis’ a joyus day in this realm, brother. Can you smell it?”

Loki frowned, squinting towards the silhouette. “The window is closed, you cretin.”

Thor chuckled. “One does not require an open window to smell joy, brother. Indeed, it is all around.” He turned, the aura of confidence in that garish smile making Loki’s blood run cold. “Some may say...in this very apartment.”

Loki’s frown deepened. It was always concerning when his brother attempted to be coy. “What?!” he barked, suddenly aware of how dry his throat was. Truly, had the monstrosity of muscle woken him before nine? “We have a guest,” Thor cheered, “and I require my brother’s aid.” He paced several strides to the bed, swinging crotch coming alarmingly close to Loki’s face. Two meaty hands rested on his hips, fingers drumming lightly against thick sweats. He swayed back and forth expectantly. This was not a sight Loki wished to see before breakfast.

He pulled the duvet over his head, muttering curses before the sheet was ripped from his grasp. He stiffened, an unexpected chill making his body clench while his brother’s laugh ripped through the air. “Come, they’re waiting,” was all he managed to say, before there was a loud yelp from the living room.

“So this is a dog?”

Loki observed the creature with suspicion as it snuffled against the hardwood floor.

It had been going about its business for around twenty seconds now, paying no reverence or respect to the legendary beings in its presence. Loki’s scepticism grew. He was suddenly glad he’d worn his leathers. “Yes! And I broke up some biscuits your lady gave me on the floor for it to seek while I roused you. Charming, isn’t it?” Thor spoke quickly, and with an undeniable awe. The dog looked up expectantly, tail quivering. “I have no lady,” Loki griped, casting his gaze around the living room. A cushion from the immaculately arranged sofa had been rudely upended to the floor. Loki's eyes narrowed as Thor made his way obliviously to the breakfast bar. “Be that as it may,” the blonde said brightly, “this is the companion she speaks so often of.” Loki watched as the small creature trotted to Thor’s feet, looking up at him. Its tail was doing that thing again. “This is the rival for my affections which takes up so much of her time? I’m insulted,” he muttered. The dog’s paws tippy-tapped from side to side, impatient for whatever was in the bag Thor had begun rustling. Against his better judgement, Loki felt the side of his mouth twitch. He cleared his throat. “So. Why is it here, and what are we supposed to do with it?”

Thor scoffed, shaking his head with a smile.

Loki didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

“Your lady- apologies, not your lady; has been called on an unexpected mission, shouldn’t take long – usual sort of thing." Thor glanced to his brother, glee in his eyes before bending forward with his hands on his knees. "I volunteered to ensure the safety of this treasure of the realm in her absence. Yes I did! Didn’t I?! Yes I did!” The pitch of Thor’s voice traced higher with every syllable. Loki was horrified. It descended into mumbling saccharine inanities at the excitable being shuffling below him, which let out a small a-woo. “‘Treasure of the realm’, please...” Loki scathed as he sidled over to the sofa. He had been sure to give the unfamiliar being a wide berth. Who knew what it’s intentions were. It was, after all, a stranger.

His breath hitched as it suddenly looked in his direction, the flash of a tiny pink tongue taking him by surprise.

He had the sudden urge to call to it, to feel the rest of it’s delicate triangular face in his hands. Perhaps, even, to stroke it. He thought it might feel soothing.

With unnecessary gravitas, Thor produced a beleaguered looking plush animal from a small bag resting on the counter. It was pink and mint and blue; splotches dotted on a crusted physique. Loki thought it had seen a few battles of its own.

“Oh for heavens sake, what is that?” he groused as Thor began to shake it aimlessly in the air. The dog leapt up on it’s back legs, dancing excitedly. “Tis a llama, brother,” Thor chided with authority, “obviously.” “A llama?” Loki frowned. Thor shrugged. “I know not. But that is how your lady referred to it. The little thing is rather attached to it, apparently. I thought it best not to question further.”

Both brothers nodded in silent understanding while the creature began to chirp, bouncing in comical circles. Its front paws waved in the air, the soft underbelly looking undeniably tender and scritchable. “Well... throw it then,” Loki huffed with feigned impatience. He rested his chin on his palm. He would admit, reluctantly, that he was beginning to mildly enjoy this. In a ridiculous sort of way. Thor’s eyebrows rose. “Excellent idea, brother” he said, before lobbing the llama forth at full force across the room. Loki’s eyes widened. “Brother, no-” The dog followed its lightening fast arc, legs sliding out behind it on the floor in haste. Loki braced against the arm of the sofa as the plasterboard-covered wall exploded with an almighty crack. The stuffed toy may as well have been a cannonball. A huge mist of dust immediately flooded the living room, chunks falling from the wall.

“Protect the small thing,” Thor bellowed.

Without hesitation, Loki sprung from the sofa, caging the little dog in mid-pursuit beneath his torso. Debris hit him like a wave, white mass covering dark curls falling around his face. There was a frightened whimper beneath him, something solid smacking against his thighs with a heavy thump. His heart was thundering as the carnage settled. She will never forgive me, Loki thought with horror. He peered between his forearms to the dark cave his body had created.

There was silence.

“Does it live, brother?” Thor rasped, his choking voice panicked. Loki registered pacing footsteps hovering around him in a cloud of dust, regretful muttering and coughing peppering the air. His stomach dropped.

He could barely bring himself to look. So fragile, these mortals. Their familiars even more so, surely. Suddenly, something moist and round surfaced from the darkness and poked him straight in the eye.

“Gargh!” Loki spluttered, before the breath was stolen from him. He fell forward, forehead hitting the floor while an agile tongue delved deep into one exposed nostril. An assassin, after all. Loki rolled to the side, freeing the wild creature. “It lives!” Thor whooped ecstatically. But the moment was lost on Loki.

The ball of fur and limbs and squiggling was upon him, crawling like a demon of Muspelheim across his person. The thing was liquid. It placed its front legs on his chest, perfecting a position of strength while a deceptively long tongue continued the assault of his face. “Desist!” he spluttered, searching for purchase on its lithe, fluff-laden frame. And yet, the incorrigible creature could not be swayed.

The softness of the bacon-like protrusion tickled violently, but somehow...Loki found himself unable to catch his breath from the laughter shaking his chest. It ravaged his cheeks, his mouth, his nostrils - all in whirling succession with no obvious tactical rhythm. “Brother, make it stop-” Loki gasped unconvincingly, hooking his thumbs beneath the dog’s little underarms. His laughter, Loki surmised, acted only to encourage the creature. And yet, he could not collect himself. “Alas, brother I must attempt to retrieve the valiant llama from the rubble,” Thor chuckled, biting his lip at his sibling strewn across the floor. With a resolute grunt, Loki hoisted the creature in the air above him. It squirmed, wriggling all four legs erratically. Its rotund bottom was positively vibrating with excitement. “Look, brother...it flies,” Loki grinned. The dog’s mouth was open in a smile, aimless tongue licking the air. Still in search of his skin no doubt. The god sat up, drawing the squiggling bundle to his chest. It settled, the cup of his hand under its rear and the other snug to its barrelled chest seeming to calm it. Loki smoothed its whiskers, brushing a crumb of plasterboard from the tufts of its snout. He searched its eyes, deep brown pools bubbling and sparkling with life. And with mischief, he thought. Loki smiled. Without knowing why, he placed a tentative kiss on its upturned nose. It was fresh, and cool. The richest black. And somehow, Loki knew those were good things.

The dog’s tongue flicked out once more; a soft, solitary lick to the tip of his own nose reciprocating the sentiment. He felt unfamiliar warmth blossom in his belly, drawing the precious bundle closer to his chest. “I am glad you are well, friend” he murmured. “I can only apologise for my oaf of a-” “-brother! Success!” Thor cheered, holding the resurrected llama aloft like a battle trophy. If it looked beleaguered before, now it was tragic. The plushie was completely white, stuffing protruding from its head like a fatal war wound. He paced victoriously across the floor, holding it out to the dog nestled in his brother’s arms. Loki could swear the creature rolled its eyes.

“Do not presume to return its prize possession in such a vile state, brother,” Loki hissed. He dropped his gaze to the bright eyes gazing lovingly into his own. “Never fear small thing, Uncle Loki shall amend this abomination.” he cooed. Circling a finger, Loki enjoyed the perk of the dog's ears as the llama glowed green. In moments, its garish pastel glory was restored. “The crusted biological coating is gone too, brother…” Thor mumbled sceptically, inspecting it. “Was that important?” Loki jiggled the squishy package in his arms. Its front paws bounced. “Methinks that was enthusiasm from historical play; perhaps we should begin to restore it,” he chuckled, as the dog began to squirm with excitement once again. Loki tickled its belly. Thor frowned. “Do not get too attached, brother” he warned, “remember that this one is claimed. And by whom.” Loki rolled his eyes. “I am aware of that, brother” he snarked, before bending to carefully lower all four paws to the ground. He straightened. “But clearly the creature and I have an affinity. It cannot be denied.” Thor folded his arms, and Loki did the same. They watched in silence as the fluffy tornado fell upon the llama, beginning to prance in a parading circle around them. It dotted easily between the chunks of plasterboard, the plushie snug within tiny jaws.

Thor cleared his throat. “It is my belief” he began knowledgeably, “that the creatures have developed ways to trick mortals in favouring them. They are provided shelter, comfort, snacks and the like in return for being…” he gestured open handed to the floor, “thus.” Two sets of eyes assessed the inexplicable sight before them, rolling on its back with four wriggling paws flapping at strange angles. “Is that so…” Loki mused, smile widening as he lowered to his haunches. The dog flipped to stand, nails scratching against the floor in a race to meet him. That little bottom shifted side to side, overcome with indescribable joy at their friend’s return to the lower level. The llama bonked against Loki's knee, a helicopter-esque tail making his heart soar.

He gripped the llama’s sides, tugging gently before pulling it flush against his chest. The cheeky growl in the dog’s throat made him chuckle as he pressed a soft kiss to its forehead. “How mischievous,” he whispered, smiling conspiratorially against the tousled fur.

Tags ( **let me know if you'd rather stick with just smutty stuff - no offence taken!)

@meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @muddyorbsblr @literatureatthebowofnails

#loki fluff #brodinsons #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki and thor #the brother collection #loki odinson #loki x yn #loki x you #loki gif #loki marvel #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki x reader fluff #loki oneshot

[joyful-enchantress]

On the Naughty List (18+) | Loki x Fem!Reader

banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn

A/N: Everyone has been so welcoming and kind and encouraging with my first fic that I decided to try my hand at another one! This is also my first try with smut, so apologies if it is awkward at all. I hope you like it! It is another installment in the Winter Warmers Collection curated by @lokisgoodgirl

Genre/Warnings: Smut (18+), soft(ish) Dom!Loki, here be filth, some fluff too, established relationship, language, restraints, spanking, nipple play (clamps), temperature play, edging/orgasm delay, begging, oral f!receiving, choking (if you squint)

Word Count: 4377

"Stop, Loki! Ahhhhh, stop, please!" you shrieked wildly as Loki playfully but mercilessly pelted you with icy snowballs.

You loved seeing him like this, completely lost in a moment of carefree fun. His eyes were alight with that familiar glint of mischief and the midday rays reflecting off the surrounding snow seemed to dance across his porcelain skin. He was beautiful. And he was yours. An arrogant smile slowly melted into his features as he responded to your request for a ceasefire.

"What's the matter, darling? Can't handle everything I have to offer?" he quipped with a wink.

Damn him and his relentless innuendo. A slight blush crept across your cheeks at his words.

"Oh, I know I can handle all of you, Laufeyson. I've done it many times before," you decided to give it right back to him. "What I can't handle is any more snowballs to the face or soaking through my coat. Not all of us have an endless tolerance for cold, you know!"

Given Loki's heritage, he required no protective outerwear during your childish winter antics. Not that you truly minded -- it meant you got to enjoy a better view of those sinful hands of his, the long, elegant fingers flexing dexterously as he packed the glittering snow into nearly perfect spheres. But, perhaps, his affinity for the cold did give him an unfair advantage in this case.

"I can think of several things I could do to warm you right up, love. Things I could do with my fingers..." he twirled his delectable digits seductively and nearly had you drooling. "...or my mouth..." his skillful tongue peered through the curtains that were his luscious lips and slowly swiped along his top lip just before he smirked knowingly and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. "...or my cock."

Had the temperature suddenly risen? Your thighs clenched together involuntarily, your body already yearning for the sweet friction, and the slightest whimper escaped your lips at his salacious words.

He paced towards you, closing the distance until there was none left, and his warm breath was fanning across your neck as he bent to whisper in your ear.

"Although," he continued, "judging by your reaction thus far, I could probably keep you warm with my words alone." His voice seemed to drop an octave, and assumed that familiar huskiness that he reserved only for you in your most private moments with him. "Maybe we should test the theory, hmm? Would you like that, darling?" His tongue darted out to lick the shell of your ear.

"Yes, Loki..." you breathed, your own voice barely above a whisper. "Please, let's be done with our game and go inside. I need you."

"As you wish, my love," he placed a wet kiss along your jawline. "Follow me."

He began the short walk back to the cozy home the two of you shared, his broad back to you. The wet spots he left on your ear and jaw began to sting in the frigid winter air. You absent-mindedly reached up to soothe the ache with your gloved fingertips, and as you turned to admire the way the dark jeans he was wearing hugged his perfect ass as he strode towards the house, the temptation was too great. You simply could not resist.

THWAK!

A perfectly thrown snowball hit him in the back of the head, bursting into a flurry of snow that clung to his ebony curls and drifted down his neck and across his back.

"Oh you're in for it now, pet." He turned around, ever so slowly, his lips upturned into a menacing smile and his emerald eyes burning with the promise of what was to come.

You decided to play right into his hands.

"Have I earned a spot on the naughty list, Sir?"

He gazed back at you with a hungry expression, his pupils dilating with lust; you knew the effect that particular word had on him. He began stalking towards you, like a predator cornering his prey.

"That goes without saying, Y/N. Your misbehavior is simply unacceptable. Now, do you know what happens to naughty girls?"

He was right in front of you once again, towering over you and looking down his nose directly into your eyes.

"They don't get any presents?" you suggest with feigned innocence.

"They must be punished." he declared with such authority, it left no room for argument.

"Oh really? Just what exactly do you -- AHH!"

Before you could even finish your snarky response, he had you draped over his shoulder, your eyes staring at his perfect backside and his strong arm flexed behind your knees, holding you in place. His other hand rose up to give your unsuspecting bottom a warning smack.

"No more questions, darling. You're in enough trouble as it is."

He carried you inside, kicking off his shoes along the way, and before you knew it, he was tossing you on the plush bed like a ragdoll. The deep emerald-colored satin sheets twisted in your fingertips as you stared up, wide-eyed, at your husband; gone from his face was the carefree playfulness and in its place was a stern demeanor. There was no question who was in charge here. And you loved it.

With a snap of his fingers, a blanket of green light engulfed your body and every scrap of clothing you had been wearing disappeared. Loki, still fully clothed, hovered over you, caging you in and bringing his face within inches of yours.

"Now let's go over the rules, shall we?" he trailed, his voice dripping with lust and power, "Rule number one, you will refer to me only as Sir. You will not call me by my name unless and until I command it. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," you gasped, barely audible over the hammering of your own heart.

"Good girl." He reached a hand down and began stroking your breast, eventually rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Rule number two, you will do as I say, without question or hesitation. I do not like to repeat myself. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, Sir," you barely suppressed a moan.

"And finally, rule number three..." You whimpered as he tweaked your nipple, hard. "...You do not come until I give you my express permission. I decide whether and when you will have your pleasure, isn’t that right, pet?” his lips curved into a wicked grin as he finished reminding you of the last rule.

“O-of course, Sir,” you gulped, anxiously and eagerly awaiting his next move.

"Now, do you remember your safe word, darling?" his eyes momentarily softened as he asked you, ever your loving and devoted husband, making sure you knew you were safe and loved.

"Yes, Sir. Red," you assured him with a breathy whisper.

"Good." The fleeting moment of softness had passed, his expression shifting back to one of unrelenting dominance, emerald eyes alight with thoughts of the diabolical plans he had for you. "Let's begin."

His hand rose from your breast up over your collarbone to its final destination around your neck, giving it a firm squeeze as he captured your lips in a ferocious kiss; it was all tongues and teeth as he invaded your mouth, claiming what was his with urgency. Eventually, he allowed you to catch your breath and he trailed his lips down your jawline, to suck and nip at your pulse point as you lay there panting.

"I want you to kneel on the bed, facing the headboard." he rasped against your ear before rising up off the bed to allow you the room to move into position.

You wasted no time, scrambling up so you could obey him and avoid furthering your punishment. As you were twisting around and adjusting yourself into the perfect submissive kneel, you caught a glimpse of him removing his dark emerald sweater, leaving him in the white button-down he was wearing underneath, those damn dark wash jeans, and his socked feet.

He leisurely strode towards the head of the bed and turned to face you, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and beginning to roll up the sleeves to his elbows. You bit your lip, the sight of his forearms flexing as he manhandled the garment enough to send a fresh pool of arousal to your core.

"Hands in front of you, wrists together," he commanded.

As you did so, he conjured a bit of black silken cord -- enough to bind your wrists together tightly while leaving some extra hanging on either side of the intricate knot. Once he was satisfied that the rope would keep you sufficiently restrained, he turned to reach into the nightstand where you kept your toys for nights such as this. You could hear the familiar metallic clink of chains bumping into each other as he pulled a toy out of the drawer. The clamps.

"We haven't played with these in a while, pet," he said with a devilish snarl. "I want you to feel them sway and tug every time I strike that perfect ass of yours."

You couldn't help the whimper that escaped your lips at his words. "As you wish, Sir."

He worked your nipples into firm peaks before attaching the clamps to them. You hissed as they bit into your sensitive flesh, providing an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. Before you could fully adjust to the sensation, he was pulling on the extra cord that was hanging from your bound wrists and tying it to the top of the headboard. This forced you to bend forward, head between your arms, ass raised slightly - and presented perfectly - as you remained on your knees. The chain that connected the clamps swayed with your movement, tugging on your sore nipples with each sweeping arc, causing you to moan wantonly.

"Hmmm,” he hummed in approval as he situated himself beside you on the bed, one hand at the small of your back - a reminder to remain in position - the other rubbing and squeezing your bottom, the gentleness a stark contrast to the harsh stings you knew were to come. “My dirty whore of a wife seems to be enjoying herself, and I’ve barely begun,” he chuckled darkly. “You will count each strike aloud, and when I am finished, you will thank me for them. I think 10 strikes ought to do for tonight, pet. Oh, and do remember, you are not allowed to come.”

“Yes, Sir,” you groaned desperately. Before you knew it, the first strike hit your backside with a loud SMACK. Just as he had planned, the chain between your tortured nipples was swaying wildly. “One,” you squeaked.

His hand came down against your ass again, this time on the opposite cheek.

“Two, Sir.” You let out a shaky breath.

The next slap seemed to echo throughout the room.

“Ahhhh! Three, Sir!”

After the third smack, his hand caressed down your backside and his fingers dipped between your soft folds. “Ohh, love. We’re only three strikes in, and you’re absolutely soaking. Do you think you’ll make it?” he asked with feigned concern. You could do nothing but whimper in response. “Oh how I do love those pretty noises you make,” he crooned.

He resumed his work, each smack to your bottom bringing more pain than the last… and sending more arousal straight to your dripping core. After the seventh strike, he moved the hand that had been resting innocently at the small of your back to the chain that was dangling from your breasts and gave a sharp tug.

“Aaaauunnghhh! Please, Sir,” you moaned. Whether you were begging him to stop or to give you more, you didn’t know.

“Shhhhh, pet. Just three more, you’re doing so well for me.” As he soothed you with his words, he moved his hand from the chain to the apex of your thighs, and his fingers easily found your clit, peeking out from its hood and aching for attention. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his hand, shamelessly searching for more friction. “Ah ah ahh, there will be none of that writhing, darling,” he reprimanded you gently. “You will take what I give you and nothing more.”

“Sorry, Sir, I’ll be still,” you promised with a high pitched whine.

He kept his fingers on your clit, lazily playing with the bundle of nerves as he delivered the last three smacks to your bottom. It was just enough to tease you and keep you wanting more, never enough to fully satisfy you. Your frustration was mounting at this point, but deep down you knew you shouldn’t have been so delusional as to hope he’d allow you your release so easily.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, pet?” he mercifully reminded you as he pulled his hand away from your sensitive bud, rubbing soothing circles on your ass cheeks with the same hand he just used to blister them.

“Oh, yes, of course. Thank you, Sir, for spanking me.” you managed to coerce your tongue into forming the words despite your frazzled brain.

“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed softly and with a snap of his fingers, the bindings disappeared and you collapsed forward onto the bed, limp and spent, but unbearably aroused. He quickly was at your side, and gently helped you to roll over onto your back. Finally, you could see his stunningly beautiful face again. His features had settled back into those of your loving husband, warmth and softness radiating from within. Stroking your cheek gently with his thumb, he bent down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that sent a fire straight to your core.

Loki diligently massaged your wrists and shoulders, helping to soothe the ache from your restraints; he then moved his attention to your breasts. “I’m going to remove these now, darling. One at a time. I know it will be intense but it will only last for a moment,” he whispered.

You winced and cried out as he removed each clamp, his warm mouth quick to softly caress each aching bud with his tongue and soothe the sting.

“What’s your color, Y/N?” he asked you gently, his gaze meeting yours, eyes swirling with concern and love for you — only you.

“Green, Sir. So Green.”

“Excellent.” His emerald orbs reignited with salacious promises and his lips twisted into a wicked grin. Gone again was the softness he had momentarily uncovered. “Then we’ll move into the next phase of your punishment.”

Bring it on, you thought to yourself, but all you managed outwardly was a cheeky smile.

He must have been losing patience for doing things manually, because with a flick of his wrist and a twirl of his elegant finger, more restraints appeared, securing you to the bed. This time, they were black fur-lined leather cuffs -- one around each wrist and one around each ankle. The leather straps connected to the cuffs ran across the mattress, off the sides, and under the bed, where they were secured. This ensured that you wouldn't be going anywhere, and that your legs were spread nice and wide for him; you couldn’t close them even if you wanted to. You also noted that your arms and shoulders were in a different position, not stretched over your head -- and he kept a small amount of slack so that you could adjust and rotate your shoulders if you needed to, so as not to strain your muscles to the point of pain. Your husband thought of everything.

As he strode once again to the night stand and began looking for the toy he needed for your next wave of delicious torment, you noticed his prominent manhood straining against his tight jeans, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself knowing the effect you had on him. Your smile quickly melted away into a mixture of primal lust and shaky nerves as you saw what he pulled out of the drawer, though. The magic wand and the large glass dildo.

“Now, pet, I’ve got to go downstairs and take care of something,” he began as he set the glass dildo down on the bench at the foot of the bed, within easy reach, and clicked the wand on to the lowest setting. “I shouldn’t be gone for more than ten minutes, but I wouldn’t want you getting bored in my absence, so this should keep you occupied while I’m gone.” He placed the wand firmly against your throbbing clit and you couldn’t suppress the wanton moan that escaped your lips at the feeling. It would never be enough to give you release on this setting, it would only tease you and amplify your arousal, but damn if it didn’t feel so good. A wave of emerald light surrounded the wand, and you immediately knew he had enchanted it so that it would remain in place, no matter how much you bucked and squirmed. There was also no doubt in your mind that it would disappear immediately should you utter your safe word — the restraints, too, probably. You were always safe with him, even if he left you alone in the room to bask in the sweet torture he inflicted on you.

His hungry eyes raked over your naked body — bound and writhing — and his gaze met yours with a sinister smile before he departed the bedroom to head downstairs.

It felt like the longest ten minutes of your life. The wand was unrelenting, keeping you dangling on the edge of release, but never allowing you to fall over into bliss. No matter how you tried to grind your hips to increase the friction just enough to topple you over the edge, it was no use. Loki’s enchantment kept the wand exactly where he wanted it.

So lost were you in the sensation and the struggle for your orgasm, that you didn’t notice when he returned. That is, until the wand disappeared with a snap of his fingers, causing you to whine at the loss and open your eyes to the sight of your breathtaking husband, leaning casually against the dresser with a mug of steaming hot beverage in his hand; he was drinking in the sight of you, so desperate for the release only he could grant you. His eyes were burning with lust.

“Aren’t you going to welcome me back, pet?” he asked with a teasing smirk.

The asshole.

“Welcome back, Sir,” you managed to mutter between pants.

“That’s more like it.” He took a large gulp of the hot liquid — hot cocoa, you guessed, based on the smattering of foam the swig left on his top lip — and you watched with curiosity as he seemed to hold it in his mouth without swallowing. Setting the mug down on the bench, he picked up the glass dildo that you had all but forgotten about. Your eyes widened when you saw a tinge of blue creep across the skin of his hand, the smooth surface of the glass covered in a blanket of frost.

Without warning, he thrust the icy glass cock into your sopping cunt, the cold surface against your warm inner walls intensifying every sensation as it moved and twisted inside you. The sharp cry that rang from your throat was one of both surprise and unabashed primal lust. You saw his Adam’s apple bob sinfully as he finally swallowed the steaming liquid that was in his mouth, just before he winked at you and lowered his lips to latch around your neglected clit.

“Ohhhhh, Sir, ye- yesssss.” The stark contrast of the frigid length inside you and his warm mouth sucking and lapping at your sensitive bud was nearly too much to handle. You had enjoyed the skilled labor of your husband’s silver tongue many times before, but this was something entirely different. You could barely catch your breath, let alone form a coherent sentence.

“Mmmm…” he moaned salaciously, sending vibrations directly to your core. The familiar coil in your belly was winding tighter, threatening to snap into an earth-shattering orgasm. Just… a tiny… bit… more…

“…’m gonna come, Sir!” You whispered between whimpers and pants.

But he stopped. The frosted dildo and his mouth were both removed from your core. You whined desperately, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes at the loss, your impending orgasm ebbing away.

“You didn’t think you’d get release so soon, did you? Naughty girls don’t get to come so easily.” Loki’s eyes were ablaze with a ravenous hunger; you could see his lips and chin glistening with your sweet nectar, the flickering light of the candle in the corner of the room dancing across his face now, as the sun had set since the start of your debauched activities. He bent down to kiss you, his lips and tongue unrelenting against yours; you moaned at the taste of your arousal on his lips.

As he pulled away, allowing you both to catch your breath, you saw him refrost the glass toy and reach again for the mug to take another swig of hot cocoa into his mouth. Before you could protest, both had resumed their delectable torment, the icy tip of the dildo circling your aching clit before dipping inside you and being replaced with his hot mouth.

“Please, Sir,” you pleaded as he fucked you with the cold, hard dildo and swirled his hot tongue around your bundle of nerves. He reached one hand up to your breast, rolling and tweaking a pebbled nipple before switching to pay the same attention to the other hardened peak. Within minutes, you were there again, you could almost taste your impending orgasm. And again he stopped.

“Ohhh, pet, you taste sweeter than this cocoa,” he huskily groaned. “And look at you, so needy and desperate for me. Do you want release?” You whimpered and nodded your head as urgently as you could manage. “If you come tonight, it will be on my cock. And I want you to beg for it.”

His clothes disappeared in a flash of green light, leaving the entirety of his glorious form bare to your gaze for the first time that night. You slowly raked you eyes across every inch of him, admiring the way his lean muscles rippled and flexed underneath his perfect skin as he moved, and counting your lucky stars that he was yours.

“Please, Sir, pleeeeease give me your cock. I need it. I need you. Please make me come, Sir.” you shamelessly panted and begged, desperate for him and for the sweet release only he could give you.

He hovered over you on the bed; you could feel his rigid length against your thigh, the tip angry and red. He was just as desperate for release as you were. Bracing his weight on one forearm, he snaked the other hand across your collarbone with a featherlight touch before it settled firmly around your throat as he kissed you hungrily. So lost were you in the passion of the kiss that you barely noticed as he lined himself up at your entrance. With one perfectly angled thrust, he finally entered you, filling you to the hilt. Your breath hitched against his mouth; no matter how many times you took him, the sheer size of him ensured that the first few strokes would always take your breath away.

“You don’t have to wait any longer, darling.” He rasped against your ear as he began to thrust, rutting his hips against you with each stroke, the wiry curls at the base of his cock brushing against your clit. “Don’t hold back, and I won’t stop this time. Let yourself go and let me hear you when you topple over into bliss. Say my name as you come.”

It didn’t take long at all for you to reach the precipice, the coil at the base of your abdomen tightening almost immediately after the edging you had already endured. You were a panting, moaning mess while he worshipped you, trailing wet kisses along your neck and collarbone. His rhythm was becoming sloppier, and you knew he was close too.

“Ohhh Loki, yes, YESSS!” you gasped as the coil snapped, your inner walls squeezing him like a vice as you finally came, the earth-shattering orgasm causing your entire body to shake. “Yes, Loki. Loki…” You chanted his name like a mantra.

Before you had come down from your high, he came too, spilling his hot seed into you with a grunt. “Who do you belong to, love?”

“You, Loki, only you.”

Once his load was spent, he collapsed on top of you, your sweaty skin sliding against his own. The restraints immediately disappeared and you wrapped your arms around him as you both panted, coming down from your highs together.

“I love you, my darling wife,” he murmured against your ear a few moments later, before he placed a chaste kiss to your lips and rose from the bed. “Now let me take care of you.”

“I love you too, Loki…” you trailed, your mind still swimming in euphoria.

Loki got up and tended to you, bringing you a glass of water and helping you sit up to drink it, the cold liquid refreshing your parched throat. Then, he cleaned up the mess between your legs with his seidr and lifted you off the bed, carrying you bridal style into the en-suite bathroom and lowering you gently into the bathtub that he had already filled with hot water and your favorite lavender bath oil. He knelt beside the tub and kissed you tenderly, his elegant fingers wrapping through your tousled hair, thumb brushing your cheek lovingly. How lucky you were that he was yours.

“I’ll go down and start a fire, my love,” he said, eyes brimming with adoration. “After you’re finished in the bath, come downstairs and I thought we could snuggle on the couch, enjoy some hot cocoa, and watch a movie. I know that’s your favorite thing to do in the winter.”

“You’re wrong about that, Loki.” His lips turned down into a frown at your words, his brows knitting together in confusion. With a beaming smile creeping across your face, you finished, “You’re my favorite thing to do in the winter.”

#loki #loki smut #loki smut oneshot #lokismut #loki fluff #loki fluff and smut #loki laufeyson fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki fic #dom loki #dom!loki #dom!loki x sub!reader #dom loki sub reader #loki laufeyson smut #winter warmers #loki fanfiction #winter warmers collection

[wandasaura]

I CANT PROMISE PICKET FENCES

summary — maria’s always been married to her job, but lately she’s been married to the idea of a future with you

prompt — sharing long term dreams, goals and aspirations with one another x talking late into the night

song — black and white by niall horan

🌞⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰🧺꒱ 🌷 ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Spring with Maria always felt fresh. There was just something about the way the flowers enhanced the blue in her eyes and the way her muscles got softer with the weather. She was still your hard headed girl, a woman that would not be swayed easily no matter who she was up against, but a delicacy came to light within her when the weather warmed up and the cherry blossoms bloomed. 

It was your opinion that Maria looked especially ethereal dressed in uniform. The navy blue material brought out the softest wisps of gray in her blue eyes, and the slickback hairstyle she incorporated into her daily appearance was particularly eye-catching, exposing the harsh cut of her jaw and the sharp contour of her naturally slim nose. It wasn’t as soft as her wardrobe at home; loose fitting sweatpants that did wonders for her waistline and some old t-shirt that she claimed had too much sentimental value to toss in the donation pile, but still, to you she looked absolutely diaphanous. You supposed you had to appreciate the uniform, she wore it more often then she did her own clothes, and even now, it was clad to her body like a winter glove as she spun around in her desk chair, two black pens twirling between the slender fingers that were skilled in delicate acts of intimacy. Those same fingers that twirled ballpoint pens between bruised knuckles were fingers that had traced every inch of your skin, and simultaneously pulled a trigger to end the life of someone who had started this life out as an innocent. Maria Hill didn’t have a violent bone in her body, but she owned a heart that fought for justice. 

The bed that Maria had picked out for your bedroom was big. It was big enough for two people to roll around in with an abundance of space between warm bodies and the abrupt edge, but most nights you occupied it alone, and the expense of soft memory foam around either side of your body felt suffocating. Most nights, you occupied Maria’s chosen side of the bed, curled up tight with the blankets pulled taught around your shoulders. Her pillows smelt of the shampoo she favored each time you went grocery shopping, but the sheets lingered with the notes and elements of her perfume that she sprayed all of her clothes with routinely. She was the only woman you knew that kept a bottle of perfume on her bedside table, but you were grateful each night you fell into bed alone and became enveloped in her delicate scent. 

The bottle of perfume on her nightstand had become your temporary tripod as you propper your phone up against it, cocooning yourself beneath heavy blankets and soft pillows as she laid on your side to really look at her, and although the room you occupied was dark and dressed only in slivers of moonlight that slipped into the bedroom, she could see every blemish on your face perfectly. The fluorescent lighting of the helicarrier gave her a radiant glow, and the brightness of her settling bled into yours like she wasn’t really so far away. That thought was merely for your own comfort, realistically you knew that she was somewhere far right now, probably hovering over the rubble of Sokovia or perhaps even farther. She wouldn’t be home for another three nights, but for a moment, if you let yourself drown in the symphony of her laughter that was as sweet and fresh as the songs of a hummingbird, it felt like she was with you. 

“How’s Clint doing?” You questioned softly, cheek pressed firmly against the pillowcase beneath your head and muffling your words slightly. Maria’s lips twitched upward into a fond grin, and her blue eyes traced every shadow across your face as she memorized the sight of you. 

“He’s hanging in there. Misses the kids, misses Laura. He and Nat have been really overdoing the Budapest jokes.” Maria rolled her eyes fondly, her agitation merely pretend as she thought about the birdbrain man and the silent dancer that found themselves beneath her wing. You’re glad that she has some semblance of familiarity, that she’s not entirely alone to act as the Deputy Director, but you miss her either way. 

“Laura’s been sending me pictures of the kids.” You smiled, propping your head up on the pillow with your fist, eyes dancing across Maria’s face as you scan her for injuries she’s conveniently forgotten to mention. Your lips curl further upward when you come up empty handed, but you can’t relax completely knowing there are still hours in the day and multiple nights before she’s home safe and awake from warfare. “Lila and Cooper got into the chicken coop yesterday. Had a water balloon fight with the eggs.” 

Maria’s nose crinkled at the thought of two young children she was entirely fond of pelting each other with eggs, but there was something different in her eyes at the mention of the Barton children. Conversation always flowed between the pair of you naturally, and the lifestyle of Laura Barton was something you’d discussed in length, both of you friends with the woman who had suspended her life in duty to raise three children. You’d never seen Maria so conflicted over a story of her latest adventure, but recently she’d been falling into her head a lot more, surrendering to whatever daydreams she liked to construct when the present became too boring. “Penny for your thoughts?” You offered quietly, eyes kind and questioning. 

Maria’s silence stretches, her expression becoming increasingly conflicted, but eventually her voice fills the bedroom again and it’s like she’s not really gone at all. “Do you ever think about what Clint has?” She asks softly, soft enough for you to pick up on the fact that she’s not asking in the generic sense; she’s wondering if you want what he has. Maria’s always been open about the fact that she’s content in her career, she’s not overly fond of the travel, but she’s content with devoting her life to two things; you and shield. The question that hangs in the area is uncharted territory, but you’re ready to dive into the adventure with her. You’re ready to talk about a future outside of Shield and how you see your life in five, ten, fifteen years. You’re ready to love her eternally, because you know that you have since the moment she asked you to be her girlfriend. 

“I do. I especially like to think about you in a pair of overalls collecting eggs.” Your giggles pulled a smile over Maria’s features, completely ridding the looming tension that pulled at her eyebrows and replacing it with that lightness that only spring could create. “I do, Mia. I think about it all the time. I was just waiting for you to be ready. Are you? Ready, I mean.” 

Maria was always a concentrated speaker. She thinks fully and deeply about the conversations she holds and the responses she gives, especially to those she cares about personally. She’s extremely rash in her decisions that involve adventure, she’ll wake you up at four in the morning talking about racing the sunrise and finding the coast to watch it fully, but her words are always heedful. Nobody can believe that after so many years together you’ve never fought, but if they took the time to know Maria the way that you do, that wouldn’t be so hard to understand. She didn’t hesitate to nod her head at your question, though. She took no time to consider how she felt about your future. Even if she didn’t say it, she didn’t half to. Just by knowing Maria you know that this is something she’s been shifting over for months. The thought of her cementing your future in her mind before she dared to bring it up to you brought  a light smile over your lips. 

“Two kids. I know you said you wanted three when we first started talking, but I think we’d be perfect for two. Two little boys, not twins, but close enough in age that everybody who sees us stops to ask. We’d use the same donor for both of them, so they know that no matter what anybody tells them about having two moms, they know that they’re connected and they’re brothers.” Maria trails off, a soft smile on her face that you want to kiss away until she falls into a fit of giggles. Instead, you clutch one of your pillows to your chest, hugging it tightly and wishing it was her. 

“Two boys, huh?” You quirked a teasing eyebrow. “You want to be a boy mom, Maria Hill? Think you can handle all the wrestling matches and dirt?” 

“They’ll know better. We’ll teach them to take their shoes off before they come in from outside. I’ll wrestle with them. Clint was talking about these play couches Laura got the kids. We’ll get them for the boys, set them up on the floor so nobody gets hurt. But we’ll sit on the couch behind them and watch. We’ll kiss imaginary boo-boos and we’ll play dress up. We’ll teach them that it’s okay to cry, and it’s okay to need a hug. It won’t be like the way I was raised. They won’t hide their mistakes in fear of our reaction, and when they’re teenagers they’ll think we’re badass. I wasn’t ready to think about all of this before. I wasn’t ready to find out if I’d be just like my parents, but I’m ready now. I’m ready to start talking about everything, and buying a house. We can’t live in that apartment forever, I won’t let you live in that apartment forever. I can’t promise a picket fence life. I can’t say that I’m ready to leave my position entirely, but I am ready to start prioritizing our future the way that I prioritize the now.” 

You held onto every word that fell off of Maria’s lips and filled the silence of your bedroom so cautiously. Your eyes glimmered with tears that pool in your waterline, disrupting the image of her sat at her desk in front of a stack of papers and mission reports, and although unconventional to be having this conversation for the first time continents away from one another, it’s entirely perfect. She’s perfect. “Five year plan. We’ll find a house, we’ll start the process. I don’t need a picket fence life, Maria. I just need you.” 

A yawn pulled at your lips, nose scrunching as you snuggled deeper into her side of the bed. The time on your phone didn’t feel like an accurate depiction of the hours that had passed since you called her, but as the early hours dawned closer and closer to sunrise, you knew that eventually you would fall asleep, and when you woke up it would be a new day but the bed would still be lonely. You weren’t ready to say goodbye to her yet, you wanted to talk about the future until you were blue in the face and she was home by your side, but Maria never let you compromise your schedule. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll call you tomorrow.” 

“Stay with me.” You whispered softly, eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered to the pressure of exhaustion behind your eyes. It had been a long three weeks of missing her, but the time apart only grew smaller each time you fell asleep. Even so, you didn’t want to fall asleep alone in a home that you share with her. Even if she couldn’t hold you, you wanted to fall asleep knowing that she was watching you like she did every night when she was here. “I just want to know that you’re here, at least partially.” 

You couldn't see Maria, but you knew that she was smiling at you, probably with the cap of her ridiculous Stark Industries pen between her teeth. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here.” 

You smiled, nodding your head. “I love you, Mia.”  “I love you too, cariña.” You didn’t open your eyes to see her smile, but you could hear it in her voice, and only seconds later, you fell asleep knowing that the future you had always wanted was one step closer to fully being yours.

#maria hill #maria hill x reader #maria hill fluff #maria hill comfort #maria hill fic #maria hill oneshot #collection: spring fling

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

The Request

Overlords. The sovereign rulers of various domains and areas of the Pride Ring. Sinners that rose to power through dealing with souls and troppling over the weak to show who’s the one in power and control. Together, they own millions of souls and representing the controlling powers of the city

Yet what sets them apart from the other demons in power? Why were they the sovereign rulers of their specialty and not another that claims or tries to threaten them so? 

There’s a system, a power even beyond them combined and rival that of the King and Queen’s, that stablizes them. A supporting system, if you will, one that approves of the Overlords’ existence. As other rings have their Sin to impose power and their form of order, Pride has something similar. The founder of the Overlords and owner of their souls; the Collector

To call yourself an Overlord and rule over some form of territory, be it a street, a block, a town, a building complex, you have been approved by the Collector. No, one doesn’t seek the Collector out, the Collector seeks them out. It proves potential, it proves worth, and it proves attention-worthiness. All Overlords know who were the real one by the mark on their souls, a stamp of proof, that they’d take pride in

Rarely to none would the Collector gather Overlords together. So they make their own gatherings to keep track of any new members to their collection. There were times when some would fake their claim, they were viciously shredded where they lied. There was barely any proof, the mere aura and presence was enough to tell

All Overlords were the Collector’s prized souls, their worth to the Collector is shown when their mark remains intact as time goes by. Once the Collector deemed the Overlord as trash, they are let go and the other remaining Overlords will devour to keep the collection worthy

It’s the Overlords’ goal and duty to remain relevant and strive to be stronger. Not only to secure their title as an Overlord, but to also stay within the Collector’s elite collection

“Do you hereby swear your allegiance to me, the Collector, so long as you are in my favour? In return for entering my collection, you will be protected and secured of your authority and strive in your domain. Know that only I am able to throw you away and none other should you fall beyond my interest and favour.”

“I solemnly gage (I solemnly swear).”

“Yes, as you wish.”

“Why, absolutely, Darling!”

“F**k yes!”

“Of course, Dear.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Naturally.”

“Hell’s yes!”

Alastor felt it, his soul like a beating heart when one meets their love. His smile widening and excitement building up within him. At the same time, there was the touch of nervousness too. He quickly made his way down to the lobby where Charlie was seen welcoming a few guest that wanted to be redeemed

Well, the hotel has been gaining popularity after the battle with the exterminators and the fact that they won was no secret or easy feat to pull. Maybe the renovations also played a part. But Charlie was none the wiser whenever someone was expressing a want to be redeemed 

Though to Alastor, it was a bigger deal when he spotted what was among the group of newcomers. There was no mistaken it, it had to be. While you were in disguise, you were still as elegant and commanding as the day he sold his soul to you and be the only one to have gained your attention and favour the fastest among your collection

Alastor held himself back, he wasn’t proper of him to interrupt Charlie’s little welcoming speech and you wouldn’t like it if he did. Luckily, while Charlie was busy with settling the other guest before you, he was given his chance to greet you

“Alastor, pleasure to be in your presence,” Alastor took your hand and kissed your knuckles, his eyes staring up at yours while he bowed low to show respect and the need to please. “Quite the pleasure.”

“Charmed.” You let a smirk form on your face, though it quickly fade to keep up with appearances

“May I inquire as to what brings you to this fine and renewed establishment?”

Charlie arrived in time to greet you as well. Being her usual cheerful and upbeat self even after all these years, and surviving the horrid battle against the angels. If you weren’t in disguise, you would have given her a pat on the head and a hug to comfort her. Yet you stick to your little plan and stayed level headed

It was merely to fine a place to stay, you explained how Vox was someone that had no sense of privacy with how he bugged everything. You kept the spying on you part to yourself, though you knew Alastor caught on when you mentioned Vox’s devices. Then you gestured to Alastor and praised that he was a perfect counter and addition to the hotel building since he cancels out Vox’s devices naturally

Alastor let out annoyed radio static when he learned of Vox displeasing you, how disrespectful. If only Vox could do even worse to be dropped out of the collection, then there’d be a real battle. Since deathly fights between the Overlords was forbidden. Still, Alastor could feel his smile widening at the superiority over Vox he had and praise he received, even with his 7 year disappearance, you didn’t let him go

Vaggie was quick to reject your stay and attempt to push you out when you weren’t even lying to want to be redeemed. Saying that the hotel wasn’t a rent-free place for demons to just show up to crash for their own amusement

Alastor was smart and quick to interject and maybe nearly slap Vaggie lobby but he managed to keep his hands behind his back. He gestured to the other guests as he made a point that turning away guest was rather rude for someone wanting to redeem demons. You added you can pay if it was too much, or just leave. Which gave Alastor a mini panic

Charlie agreed in the end and Vaggie received a look from Alastor while you thanked them with a smile. Alastor followed closely behind you while the tour was underway with the other new residents. When Charlie was arranging everyone’s stay, Alastor immediately had your room key ready, promising that it was the best room the hotel can provide. If you lacked anything, he’ll provide!

Since everything simmered down, you were in your room waiting for Alastor’s knock on your door to bring him to his radio tower that was guaranteed to not be listened in. He showed up at record time and offered you his hand to teleport the two of you to his tower

With a snap of your fingers, you let your disguise fall, revealing you in your glory and natural look. You sat on his desk while Alastor stood. The two of you started chatting then inquiring about the other’s well-being and current entertainment

It was rare, but you do visit your Overlords from time to time just to chat or catch up, it not only shows a want to connect and understand your souls, but also your continued interest in keeping them. There were times when your meeting with them could be a sign of you removing your hold over their soul, then it was a matter of time before the other Overlords knew about this development and hunt them down to own or destroy

An example was Husk. In your observant and keen eyes, you watched as he bet on the power and protection you granted him without a second thought, thinking that he would win back soon enough. Not soon enough for you as it would appear. You didn’t even visit him, you merely let him go without a word of warning. In fact, your patience and the extra time were your warnings

One that he didn’t even realize he was given. So Alastor set out to dominate Husk when he was removed from the collection. With Alastor’s win, he owned Husk’s soul and revealed that he was history to you. The look on Husk’s face was enough of a dedication to you, Alastor returned his dues

Though there were times when you allowed some lesser demons into your circle. Namely the Vees, specifically Valentino. He was at risk of your removal, yet time and time again, he was saved by Vox and Velvette who proved they work better as a team than individually like other Overlords. So to keep Vox and Velvette, Valentino was allowed to stay

That’s until you find more worthy ones

Yet it was in the Overlords’ nature to be the remaining one in your collection. To put down the other as a method of showing their superiority to you. You knew this ploy, so you set that they weren’t to fight or belittle the other with the aim to kill. You didn’t need or want souls that would harm other souls you hand picked

The Vees were your unique case. A case that was fragile to maintain. Wrong moves here and there, disrespectful words spatted out, risky actions committed. And they risk their entire group gone from your collection. Was there one that was save from your removal? Hardly, it was with a comparison does Vox and Velvette appear to be better

“When are you going to show me your wound, Alastor?” You got to your goal. You knew of the battle, you also knew Alastor took up the impossible task of defeating Adam to show you he was strong to remain in your elite. You knew your souls do their best to maintain your interest in them. Alastor was no different, especially when he disappeared for 7 years.

“A mere scratch! Nothing for you to worry over.” Alastor laughed, who was he lying to?

“It wasn’t a question.” You spoke with half-lid eyes staring back at him.

He flinched and bowed his head, slowly undoing his coat and shirt, finally showing you the large bandaged wound that was soaking with more blood by the minute. “It’s… not as bad as it seem…”

You becken him closer to you so you could inspect it. Silence filled the room. Alastor was ashamed, the silence was deafening to him, he can’t handle it. His heart beat fast, his mind wondered if you’re throwing him away like you did Husk. This was the calm before the storm.

His head jerked up when your soft hands pressed against the center of his chest, he’d have felt more of your touch if not for the layers of bandages. A warm feeling covered his wound and he felt energized and relaxed, his knees caving in when your hand retreated

He didn’t even realize his head was in your lap as his ears pinned back while your hands combed through his hair soothingly. His eyes closed from the peace he felt

It reminded him of the time when he first met you. How foolish was he to want to overtake you, to think you were weak, to think that you were only relying on the souls you collected. No, you held real power, power he can’t even imagine

“Alastor, you know I’m never going to let your soul go, right?”

“Thank you, My Liege.”

BONUS!

When another Overlord meeting was held, nearly all were in attendance. The news of your appearance was enough of a goad to draw in the others. Even the Vees were all present

Once everyone was seated, Alastor took the floor. You approached him, he wasn’t released by you, and you were staying where he was. As expected, there was an uproar. How was Alastor this lucky?!

Alastor directed to Vox, retelling your displeasure in his stalking while he defended that it was for protection. More eyes directed to Vox, seeing him as the reason why you weren’t as active as before, you were uncomfortable because of all the devices and camera Vox has around the city

“Hahaha! However you spin this to your favour, you can’t deny that Our Lovely Protector and Liege is vexed by your actions. So much so that Our Liege has seeked me out for haven! Now what’s to be done about that, hm?”

“You little!!!”

Meanwhile, you watched from the comforts of your room while a holographic display. A fond smile on your face and a chuckle of amusement let out, “I’ve collected quite the group, huh? I never get bored with them around.”

Note: Yes~ This is out now!! Wonder if you guys like this one. I'm wondering if I should add 'yandere', but then it's more like that, more of devotion and loyalty. Anyways! Love to hear your thoughts (if you have any)

I got a challenge for you though!! Can you name, in order, all the Overlords that were used to illustrate swearing allegiance to?

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

@mistpurpl3

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #alastor fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel fanfiction #Collection of Overlords

[zeroeightzeroone]

homesick - han jisung

love collection

genre: hurt/comfort

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)

warnings: none?

wc ~3.7k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

you miss your boyfriend–you miss him a lot.

how could you not?

all you have wanted to do for the past couple of weeks is throw your arms around jisung and hold him close. you want to keep your boyfriend so tightly against your chest that you're encapsulated by the warmth radiating off his body, the warmth that never fails to comfort you, resting your head against his chest to listen to how his heart beats in tandem with your own. you miss the physical closeness with jisung.

stray kids has been on tour since late april this year, and the last leg of the tour is expected to end early april next year. while that's quite a long time for the boys to be away, they'd be back in asia in late july and on a break until the tour kicks back up in early september. it's currently the beginning of july.

thankfully, you weren't taking any summer courses. through the grace of whatever higher power there is up there, you managed to convince your boss to let you work remotely so you could join jisung and the boys for two weeks during the japanese leg of their tour back at the beginning of june.

you loved watching jisung perform. seeing him firsthand from the crowd, in his element when he's on stage, performing his art and perfecting his craft, makes your heart lurch; you fall for the man all over again, watching him up there. seeing it firsthand is completely different from watching videos of him–you can feel the energy radiating off him when he's up there.

at the end of those two weeks, you and the boys ended up in the same place: the airport. you were boarding a plane back to seoul, and they were boarding a plane to their first tour stop in america. due to the influx of reporters and fans waiting at narita international airport, your goodbyes to the boys and their staff had to be in the hotel, inside your rooms, hours before checkout time.

knock, knock, knock.

"come in!" you call whoever is on the other side of the door; if it's any of the boys, then they will be accompanied by jisung, who has the extra room key for your room.

you grunt in a squatting position as you move your luggage from laying on the ground, on its back, to standing upright on its wheels. you hear the keycard machine beep from the other side of the door in confirmation as you're hunched over, wheeling your luggage up against the wall before standing up straight and rubbing your palms against your jeans. you watch as the front door opens to reveal the eight boys, jisung in front, holding the keycard to your hotel room. behind them, the managers and some guards come into the room with them, but the bodyguards stay outside.

"y/n!" felix whines with a pout as he pushes forward, running to you and enveloping you in his arms, "fly safe, okay?"

you pat the freckled boy's back appreciatively as you nod.

"make sure you text ji when you land, okay?"

"i will, but you guys will still be in the air when he gets that message."

felix pulls away, his hands on your shoulders as he looks at you, "still, it's the thought that counts." you smile and giggle at felix, who moves aside for the next couple of members to say their goodbyes to you.

your exchanges with jeongin, minho and changbin are on the shorter side; brief hugs with jeongin and changbin, who thank you for coming to support them in concert, meanwhile minho gives you a half hug and pats your head as he bids you farewell, thanking you for taking two weeks out of the many months jisung will spend talking about how much he'll miss you.

meanwhile, hyunjin, chan and seungmin's hugs last a little longer when you're swayed around a little bit and told to be safe, get a lot of rest on the plane and not miss them too much. chan lets you know that if there is any other time you're going to be free when they're on tour, let them know, and they'll arrange everything for you–from the plane tickets to where you're staying–anything at all.

seungmin, the member you're closest to after your boyfriend, whispers in your ear quietly to ensure it's kept between the two of you: "i know you're going to ask me to take care of jisung for you, so don't worry about that. don't worry about hannie; we all got him."

the reassurance brings a smile to your face, and your grip on seungmin gets tighter in appreciation. the boy sways your bodies back and forth, patting your back when you separate. when he pulls away, he steps aside to reveal your boyfriend standing there with a pout, his big, brown eyes glossy as tears build up at his waterline. you have to bite your lip to keep from sobbing.

you were already feeling on the verge of tears when felix came rushing in and pulled you into a hug. chan's words about arranging anything and everything if you're free, then seungmin assuring you that they'll look out for your boyfriend while on tour and now, here's your boyfriend, your hannie, your jisung, looking at you with teary eyes.

you open your arms and jisung runs into them, prompting you to take a step back at the sudden impact, but jisung's tight grip around your waist protects you from any chance of falling backward. jisung buries his face in the crook of your neck while your arms are wrapped around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder as your eyes are squeezed shut. your grip on each other is tight, knowing that once either of you lets go, the next time you'll be in each other's arms is in two months.

jisung lets a choked whimper slip out that he tries to hide with a cough. you smack his back gently, "ya!"

you clear your throat, trying your best to stay composed and stern as you utter the next words.

"if you cry, i'm going to cry too!" your voice cracks and trembles as you speak.

"i'm not crying," he denies. though his voice is muffled from his head buried in the crook of your neck, you can clearly hear that it's softer than usual, shaky, and uneasy.

you let out a pained laugh, "liar." the tears flow down your cheeks as you hold him even tighter.

"i'm not lying!" jisung continues to deny. he lifts his head up from your neck, and you stand there, still in each other's arms, looking at each other, "see."

what you see is how jisung's cheeks are flushed, wet with tears that probably fell and landed on the fabric of the hoodie you're wearing, his lashes clumped together with tears as he tries to keep his lips pursed together when they're trembling and threatening to go back to that pout. on the other hand, your tears are freely falling as you stare up at your boyfriend through your fluttering lids, mouth opening and closing as you breathe heavily through your pouted lips, cheeks also flushed and damp. you smack his chest.

"what?" he whines.

you open your mouth to laugh at him, but instead, a sob comes out. you fall back into his arms and bury your face into his chest as you cry.

"look who's crying now," jisung retorts as his arms move around your body again, holding you close. one hand rests on the small of your back while the other caresses your hair.

"yeah, the both of you," minho teases and jisung glares at the boy, but the older one just smiles back.

the rest of the boys watch the exchange between you and jisung with a slight ache in their chests as they remember how hard it was to say goodbye to their friends and family before leaving. chan looks around and he gathers everyone to leave, wanting to give you and jisung a minute alone to say your goodbyes before the driver takes you to the airport.

pulling away, jisung moves his hands to your face and brushes your hair back, some strands sticking to your skin because of tears as you hiccup. even when your hair is out of your face, he continues to stroke your hair back while the other hand is on your cheek, gently caressing the skin with the pad of his thumb. the two of you stare up at each other, sniffling.

"i love you," jisung whispers, his voice hoarse from crying.

you nod, sniffling and hiccuping in return, "i love you too."

jisung smiles down at you, "hey, i'll be back before you know it."

your eyelids flutter as you blink quickly, and your hands play with the back of the sweatshirt jisung is wearing.

"i'll text you everyday," he reminds, "i'll call you as much as i can, and as much our schedules and the time zones allow for."

you sigh shakily, "i'm gonna miss you so much."

"i'm going to miss you so much too, my love," jisung brushes your hair back again, "god, i wish i could just take you with me. two months away from you? that's too long."

you snicker, nodding in agreement, "i do too. but hey, i'll get to see so many videos of you taken by stay, doing your thing on stage."

your boyfriend smiles, gazing down at you lovingly.

"i'm so proud of you. look at you," you sigh, lips curled up in a smile, "my boyfriend is going on a world tour."

"do you know what that means?" you tilt your head in confusion, "souvenirs from every stop that remind me of you!"

since he left, both of you have been sending texts daily and video calls whenever your schedules permit it and when the time zones line up enough so it isn't too early or too late for either of you.

sometimes your calls only prompt you to miss jisung even more, wishing he was next to you and that his voice wasn't just coming through a device while he's on the other side of the world, but the distance also means you continue to long for the day jisung comes home. you know his parents long for that day as well, his mother sending you texts every couple of days asking when you're free so you can go out together. as jisung likes to put it–spending time with her future daughter-in-law.

however, as the number of days away from jisung increases, the number of days before jisung returns also decreases. with that in mind, you try to stay positive and look forward to the day he comes home.

now that the boys are in america, they've been quite busy rehearsing, checking and then rechecking their formations and any technical details that could go wrong during the concerts, the process repeating at each venue as they sync up their equipment with the new venues. their team organizing and making sure everything is okay with the venue and other organizers. as a result, jisung has been too busy to call late at night as he passes out the moment he's in his hotel room from the venue, then waking up a couple hours later to hop on a flight to the next destination.

he sends you texts here and there throughout his day, sending random photos of himself and the members during rehearsals or before and after the show. on jisung's end, he sent a text over when he landed early in the morning, saying he could probably hop on a call quickly when he gets to the hotel, seeing as they're going to be in inglewood for a little over a week for two shows instead of one. you were about to leave work when the message came through. going home for the evening when the message reminded you of your phone call with jisung's mother.

"hello, eomeonim (mother-in-law)," you greet when the line connects.

"y/n, myeoneuri (daughter-in-law)," she speaks into the phone, her tone sweet as usual. she doesn't say anything for a moment before speaking, "is this a bad time? you don't sound like you're at home?"

"ah, sorry eomeonim," you apologize, "i just got off the bus, but i'm on the way home now. but don't worry, i can talk if you need me."

"ah okay, i won't keep you too long then, myeoneuri," she assures before continuing, "have you spoken to jisung on the phone recently?"

you hum as you think, "I think it's been a couple of days since our last phone call; why? is he okay?"

you hear jisung's mother sigh on the other end of the line, "i'm a little worried, if i'm honest," you hum in acknowledgment and she continues, "he sounded quite down on our phone call yesterday and the day before. he told me not to worry when i asked… i know this might be a lot, but would you mind talking to him? if it's you, he'll open up more–at least, he'll have talked about what's on his mind."

"yeah, yeah, of course," you agree, "i'll see if we can call tonight, and i'll check up on him, see how he's doing, eomeonim. don't worry too much, i'm sure ji is okay!"

she chuckles on the other end, "ah, you sound just like him, y/n. don't tell him i sent you!"

you laugh in response to her rushed addition at the end of her statement: "i won't say anything," she sighs in relief, "was there anything else you were curious about?"

she hums, "nothing else, thank you so much, myeoneuri. i'll see you on the weekend, okay? come over whenever you want! the door is always open for you!"

your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you smile, "thank you, i'll see you in a couple of days. bye eomeonim!"

"goodbye, myeoneuri! get home safely. i love you," she bids her farewells, which you exchange right back with her before she hangs up the call.

thinking back to that conversation, you wonder what worried jisung's mother about him; was it how he spoke? his tone? the words he used? was he quite active in the conversation, or did he seem more passive? you wonder what exactly she meant by jisung sounding quite down, but you guess you'll figure it out when he calls you in the morning.

it's around eight in the morning when your phone rings from the bedside table. yunjin should already be awake and ready for work, so the ringer volume doesn't wake anyone up except you. you roll around, feeling around the bedside table for the device. you accept his call quickly and place the phone to your ear.

a deep yawn leaves your lips before you say, "ji baby?"

you hear him hum in acknowledgment on the other end before he replies, "yeah, baby, it's me." a sleepy smile forms on your lips at the sound of his voice. " did I wake you?"

you groan softly as you flick the lamp on, the sudden brightness causing you to squint, "yes but i don't mind. i just wanna hear your voice. are you back at the hotel now?"

"yeah, we got back a while ago. i just wanted to be ready for bed before calling; this way i can fall asleep while you're on the line," jisung explains, and you feel your cheeks heat up at his sentiments.

he continues to talk about what they did today. you're gradually more awake and more attentive as the minutes pass, so eventually, you realize what jisung's mother was referring to when it sounded like he's been down. jisung is speaking monotone, his voice softer, and when he speaks, it sounds like his mind is elsewhere.

when he's finished, you decide to segway into that conversation, "how are you feeling?"

he pauses for a moment, taken aback before he shrugs, "i'm tired, it's been a long day of rehearsal. what about you? how are you feeling?"

"i'm doing good, i'm hearing your voice, so i'm doing great," you answer quickly before he tries to shift the conversation to you, "are you physically tired or?"

jisung is lying in bed as he speaks to you, looking up at the ceiling and thinking of his replies, "yeah. dancing and all."

"emotionally?"

"emotionally?" he repeats to which you confirm, "i mean… i'm okay–better now since i'm hearing your voice after a couple of days… it's been a busy last couple of days."

you nod, running a hand through your tangled hair as you listen to jisung on the other end. his tone is still distracted as his words graze over how he's feeling, avoiding delving deeper into it. realizing that maybe he isn't ready to delve deeper into his emotions, you allow him to shift the conversation to your life and what you've been up to while he's been on tour–asking you how work has been and if anything new has occurred. you answer jisung honestly; there is nothing new at work as it's the same job you've had since getting into university; the only new events would be the lunch you have on the weekend with jisung's mother, aunt and grandmother.

the latter part of your updates brings a smile to jisung's lips, his heart warming at the thought of the most important women in his life spending quality time together. but at the same time, hearing your updates about your life back at home, no matter how small you think they are or if they're the same things that always happen, has jisung's chest aching in a completely different way.

"ji?" you call, not hearing anything coming from his end, "did you fall asleep?" you pause to listen, to survey whether or not you hear soft snores or heavy breathing that indicate that he is indeed asleep.

instead, jisung responds after a couple of moments, "i'm still here. i'm awake."

"are you okay?" you wonder, "if you're tired then i can go–"

"no, don't go," he quickly interrupts, "sorry."

"don't apologize, i just wanna make sure you're okay," you reassure, and you hear him hum in acknowledgment.

"i miss you," he declares softly, his voice solemn as he speaks.

"i miss you too, ji," you sigh, instinctively clutching the pillow closer to your chest.

the boy on the other end ponders for a moment before continuing, "i miss you a lot. i don't really know how to explain it," jisung blinks up at the ceiling, "i miss you all the time, but when we get back to the hotel or when i'm not performing, i miss you even more."

jisung's eyebrows knit in frustration as he continues to explain himself.

"i love being on stage, i love performing," he states, "i can't explain how i feel when i'm performing either, but… there's a feeling of contentment or fullness? i don't know… i just know i love to be up there. but…"

"but?" you encourage him to continue as his words trail off.

"but when i get back to the hotel, or when it's all over, i feel tired: the adrenaline doesn't last as long as it usually does. but even though i'm tired, it's hard to fall asleep."

you aren't sure where to place jisung's words, unsure if you've ever felt the way he's been feeling lately, uncertain if you can relate, but at the least, you want to understand and reassure him that you're there.

"there's a feeling of emptiness that kinda just sits there when i'm not on stage," his voice is softer when he says the word 'emptiness' like it's a fragile word, one he's unsure of, "i wasn't sure what it was before but listening to you talk started to help me realize what caused the emptiness."

"something i said helped you realize?" you repeat for clarification.

"yeah, listening to you talk about home, work, the local cafes, the conversations you have with my mom–just everything about your life at home," jisung lists, "i'm feeling homesick."

your lips part in awe when the last word leaves his mouth, the singular word allowing you to reconceptualize what he said previously and gain a greater understanding.

"i tried my best to distract myself and rehearse more to combat those feelings of emptiness but nothing seemed to work; it just stuck there. listening to you helped combat some of my homesickness but…"

"but it's still there," you finish his sentence, and he agrees with a sigh.

"i love being onstage, i feel so alive when i'm up there," now, when jisung speaks, his tone is clearer, and his thoughts are clearer, the way he's speaking signalling that instead of being lost in his own thoughts he's got both feet on the ground and he's working through them, "but i miss home so much. god… i miss you so damn much."

you smile sadly when you hear him sniffle.

"i miss my bed at the dorms, the air fryer at the dorms that we don't even use. i miss the smell of your laundry detergent and shampoo, i miss being in your arms, and you playing with my hair. i miss being at home."

jisung cries softly as he speaks, sniffling and continuing to list off the things that he misses at home. it brings tears to your eyes; using your comforter to dab the tears off your face.

"hey…" you call into the phone, "would it help if i sent little voice messages throughout the day so you could hear my voice? i can send pictures of things you love here too? just a couple more weeks, and you'll be here, and i'll hold you so tightly you get sick of me."

"i'll never be sick of being in your arms," he remarks, "and if it isn't too much, i would love that, all of it." jisung smiles at your suggestions, appreciative of you and your ideas to help him combat his homesickness until he's back in seoul.

"i'll try my best."

"baby?" he coos, prompting a soft response from you, "do you think we can video call? i wanna see your face before i sleep. can you stay until i fall asleep?"

your cheeks heat up from your boyfriend's suggestion, and your heart feels giddy at seeing his face for a couple of minutes before he falls asleep. " of course, baby."

#hjs love collection #stray kids one shots #stray kids imagines #skz imagine #stray kids imagine #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #skz han fluff #skz han jisung fluff #skz han angst #skz jisung oneshot #skz jisung oneshots #skz jisung imagines #skz jisung imagine #skz jisung fluff #stray kids jisung one shots #stray kids jisung one shot #stray kids jisung imagines #stray kids jisung imagine #stray kids han imagine #stray kids hurt/comfort

[collecting-stories]

🏕 "Accidently ending a phone call with your roommate with a casual ‘I love you’ seems like a very good reason to move out." roommate au with any stranger things guy please!

I did this with Steve, mostly cause you said he's your comfort character.

-

I Love You - Steve Harrington

Summary: You accidentally confess your feelings to your best friend over the phone.

A/N: I couldn't decide how to end this so it kinda just ends.

Stranger Things Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“What do you think are the chances that I could like...move out of our apartment?” You asked Robin, leaning against the counter of the Radio Shack. It wasn’t exactly the most glamourous job in the world but it afforded a third of the rent on the apartment that Robin had found for you, her, and Steve.  

When she’d first suggested the three of you living off campus together, you’d been reluctant. Keeping your feelings for Steve under wraps was a lot easier said than done, especially when you were literally living under the same roof as him. But Robin was persistent (and she put down the deposit for the first month before either of you could even process the idea long enough to back out of it) so it was no surprise to you when you found yourself trapped in an apartment contract, sleeping in a room right next to Steve’s.  

Not ideal was a severe understatement and you were waiting with baited breath to completely fuck everything up. Something you absolutely knew you were going to do because when didn’t you fuck things up? You’d been coasting through this masquerade of a friendship for two years now and there was no way you were going to hold out much longer. You knew that. And then it happened, just like you had anticipated but maybe worse than you’d imagined. 

“Why do you have to move out?” Robin asked, reaching for some of the fries she had brought you for dinner. You were supposed to be working but the moment she came in you’d flipped the sign on the door and locked it before announcing that you’re entire life was essentially over.  

“I told him I loved him.” You admitted, grimacing at the mere thought of your fuck up.  

It’d been a simple phone conversation, nothing exciting and definitely nothing to completely screw the future of your friendship with Steve over. He’d called the store cause he was going to the market and wanted to know if you had any special requests that hadn’t been written down. You asked for dunkaroos and then told you loved him. Mostly in that exact order. “Buy me dunkaroos. Thanks. See you later. I love you.” And then before he could answer (thank god before he could answer) you hung up. Hit the end call button and smashed the phone down onto the receiver and hyperventilated your way to the Radio Shack that Robin was working part time at.  

It was unfortunate, probably for both of you, that the only person you could talk about Steve with was Robin but you hadn’t really branched out.  

“How did that happen?”  

“I just was like, bye, and then said I love you!” You replied, pressing your hands against your forehead. “I literally am dying right now.” 

“I don’t think you’re dying.” Robin pointed out, not looking nearly as erratic over the entire ordeal as you were. “I mean, I’ve told Steve I love him plenty of times.”  

“You’re physically incapable of being attracted to him and I’ve never once heard you tell him you love him.” You replied, “I literally said ‘I love you’ on the phone, to him.”  

“So what? Just play it off.”  

Robin’s advice was less than helpful. You knew that technically you could just shrug the whole thing off (if he even mentioned it at all, as Robin was quick to point out) and say that you made a mistake. You told your parents you loved them when you signed off. You said it to your grandma when she called on holidays or weekends to chat. It was totally normal and while you didn’t normally say it to Steve it was just a slip of the tongue. Easily played off and never spoken of again.  

The second option that Robin presented, while still technically unhelpful, was a lot better than the first. The possibility that, just maybe, Steve hadn’t even heard you or if he had, that he wouldn’t bring it up at all because it didn’t really matter that much. You were friends, had been friends for a while, and you were living together. An ‘I love you’ here and there didn’t have to be romantic or talked about and definitely not agonised over. You could both go on living your lives as normal people who acted normal around each other.  

“He’s totally into you though,” Robin had mentioned, ever the informative friend when you were in a crises.  

You wanted to say “when pigs fly” or something along those lines but with all the crazy shit you’d experienced in Hawkins, pigs flying probably wouldn’t even make you bat an eye. The only thing left for you to do, since you’d dumped your problems on Robin and finished lunch, was actually return to the scene of the crime.  

The apartment was small and your roommates were unavoidable, which meant that hiding from Steve and your embarrassing love confession was virtually impossible. He was home when you got back anyway, stashing his ice cream in the back of the freezer behind a bag of peas because Robin had a tendency to steal it.  

“You know she knows you put the Rocky Road back there right?” You asked, skipping the ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’ or ‘is there any chance the phone cut out before I told you I love you’. “Honestly I don’t know how you can eat ice cream after working at Scoops.”  

“Me and ice cream have had our differences but, I mean, it’s Rocky Road…who turns their back on Rocky Road?” Steve asked, turning to look at you over his shoulder.  

“Right, my bad.” You looked away quickly, going to the fridge to grab a drink. You couldn’t hide from him but maybe you could hibernate in your room until Robin got home and then it wouldn’t be the two of you alone in the apartment. Or it would, but not alone in the same room. Alone in separate rooms, where you couldn’t say anything else embarrassing and he couldn’t mention that you told him you loved him. “I’ll be in my room. I uh, homework.” You grabbed your backpack from its spot by the couch (because you always complained about doing homework by yourself in your room and insisted on sitting on the couch and bothering your roommates with medical terminology until one of them agreed to help you study).  

“Are you sure?” Steve looked genuinely surprised because he’s known you for more than five minutes, “what if you need someone to quiz you?” 

“I’ll be fine.” You lied.  

The whole charade, thanks to Steve’s rare intuitiveness, lasted no more than thirty agonising minutes. You suspected, for the most part, that he was humouring you. Letting you sit there and stare at your textbook and act like you were capable of not distracting yourself when both of you knew that it was impossible. And eventually, when he decided enough time had passed, he knocked on the door.  

It was clear then that he was humouring you in more ways then one. Waiting to see if you would crack or if he would have to say something first. Naturally, it was the latter. “Hey, how’s it going?” Steve leaned against the doorframe of your open bedroom door. You’d left it unlocked and not fully closed, a sort of ‘I’m willing to talk but only if you start the conversation’.  

“Fine,” you replied, trying not to look over at him. The last thing you needed was to look over at Steve and lose all your nerve.  

He shrugged though you couldn’t actually see it, “Okay,” he said it like he didn’t believe you but he pushed off the doorframe and tapped the wall gently, “well tell me if you need a study partner.” 

“I will.” you nodded; eyes still diverted. 

He tapped the wall one more time, “alright,” he started to back out of the room before he stopped, calling your name, “one more thing.” 

Finally, you looked up, “what?”  

“I love you too.”  

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[astralnymphh]

⁶⁶⁶ HIGH!ELLIE COLLECTION ⁶⁶⁶

⛧ .aestra's archive of every single recorded weed session with ellie. . .⛧

I. LAZY STRAPPING ✰ II. "ARE YOU HIGH?" ✰ III. WEED N HOT SEAT ✰ IV. VIBIN' HER PUSSY ✰ V. SMOKY KISSES ✰ VI. "MY FINGERS ARE COLD.." ✰ VII. SEXROT ✰ VIII. NIPPLE PLAY ✰

feel free to send asks and add to the list!

[ellie img from angelgbc]

#ellie williams #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras collections #high!ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams masterlist #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams oneshot #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #tlou 2 #the last of us 2