#or reach out to others in this corner of the fandom that i admire

[lyricalambrosia]

I don't normally make posts, but i felt compelled to share a snippet of the upcoming second chapter of my fic "Can You Feel the Sun?" 💕

Millionsummers because i dont have the attention span for anything else dkdkdks

#trigun #legato bluesummers #millions knives #millionsummers #i dont usually like posting snippets because they're usually subject to change drastically #but i only see one small phrasing error that needs fixing in this and im happy with it despite that #so i feel like ill keep this part unchanged #im also nervous because i live here (tumblr) so its somehow more daunting to post stuff here than it is on ao3. #anyway. #i wish i had more people to talk abt millionsummers with but i am way too nervous to join any discords #or reach out to others in this corner of the fandom that i admire #so!!!! i sit in silence lmao #sorry for the tags kdkdks #oh wait #trimax spoilers #for those still doing the book club!! idk if its still going on but just in case #my writing

[songbirdseung]

FANGIRLING OVER ANOTHER GROUP / EN-

synopsis: how would they react to you admiring and cheering for another group that's not his own.

if you've seen the clips from the fansign where the fan asked them about jealously, just know I used that as a basis for this.

HEESEUNG 이희승 ~

doesn't really affect him that much

will question it but won't be jealous

"why are you so giddy over him?"

Lounging comfortably on the couch in the living room, the television screen captivated your attention, featuring a fancam of Beomgyu from TXT. You couldn't contain your excitement, emitting joyful squeals whenever he flashed different expressions and eagerly moving your arms in response to his dance moves, particularly those that synced with your favorite parts of the song. In the midst of your fangirling, you even found yourself yelling Beomgyu's name as if you were in the audience of a live concert. Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend had silently entered the room and was observing your enthusiastic display from behind.

As for Heeseung's reaction, he initially stood there, quietly observing you, a mixture of amusement and slight surprise flickering across his features. He couldn't help but smile at your unabashed excitement over Beomgyu's performance. However, a twinge of curiosity and maybe even a hint of jealousy crept into his thoughts. Heeseung didn't mind you being a fan of other groups, but seeing you so enthralled by someone else, especially a friend of his, stirred up a myriad of emotions within him. He pondered whether to interrupt your moment or simply enjoy the sight of you lost in your fandom bliss.

As Heeseung observed you lost in the excitement of watching Beomgyu's performance, he couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Seems like someone's having a good time," he remarked, stepping closer to get a better view of the TV screen.

You jumped at the sound of his voice, turning around quickly. "Oh, hey!" you exclaimed, a sheepish grin spreading across your face as you realized you'd been caught in the act of fangirling.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow playfully. "Enjoying the show, are we?" he teased, leaning against the back of the couch.

You nodded eagerly, a flush of embarrassment tinting your cheeks. "Yeah, Beomgyu's just so talented!" you gushed, trying to explain your excitement.

Heeseung chuckled again, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I can see that," he replied, reaching over to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Just don't forget about your number one idol right here."

You laughed, swatting his hand away playfully. "Of course not! You know you're my favorite," you assured him, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

Heeseung grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. "That's what I like to hear," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as the two of you settled in to enjoy the rest of the performance together.

JAY 박종성 ~

is not comfortable

doesn't enjoy seeing you gush and blush over another idol

and isn't afraid to communicate that with you

Jay couldn't help but feel a pang of discomfort. He shifted uneasily, his expression betraying his inner turmoil as he observed you gushing and blushing over another idol.

"Hey," he spoke up, his tone gentle yet firm, "I gotta be honest with you. It's kinda weird for me to see you like this with someone else."

You turned to him, noticing the seriousness in his eyes. "Oh, Jay," you said, reaching out to touch his arm, "I didn't realize it was bothering you. I'm sorry."

Jay sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's not your fault," he admitted, "but I just... I don't enjoy seeing you so into another idol like that."

You nodded understandingly, feeling a pang of guilt for not considering his feelings earlier. "I get it," you replied softly, "and I appreciate you telling me. I'll try to tone it down."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Jay's lips. "Thanks," he said, his tone more relaxed now. "I know it's silly, but I just can't help feeling a little jealous sometimes."

You leaned in to give him a reassuring hug. "It's not silly at all," you assured him, "and I'll make sure you know you're my number one."

Jay returned the hug, feeling grateful for your understanding. As the two of you settled back on the couch, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that you were willing to consider his feelings.

JAKE 심재윤 ~

jealous little puppy

will sulk, pout, give your puppy eyes, all of it

throws the question at you "what if i fanboy-ed over someone else?"

Jake couldn't help but feel like a jealous little puppy. He sat there, silently pouting, his expression a mix of puppy eyes and a slight sulky demeanor as he watched you gush over another idol.

Finally unable to contain his feelings any longer, Jake turned to you, his voice tinged with a hint of insecurity. "Hey," he began, his tone a little hesitant, "what if I fanboyed over someone else? How would you feel?"

You turned to him, surprised by the sudden question. "Oh, Jake," you replied, reaching out to gently stroke his arm, "I wouldn't mind at all. It's natural to admire others."

Jake's expression softened, but he still couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. "But what if I got as excited as you do?" he persisted, his puppy eyes pleading for reassurance.

You smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Then I'd join you," you said, your voice filled with sincerity. "Because at the end of the day, you're the one I love the most."

Jake's face lit up at your words, his jealousy melting away as he wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. "Thanks," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I guess I'm just a possessive puppy sometimes."

You chuckled, snuggling closer to him. "That's okay," you replied, "because you're my possessive puppy." And with that, the two of you settled back to enjoy the rest of the performance, knowing that your love for each other was stronger than any fleeting moment of jealousy.

SUNGHOON 박성훈 ~

JEALOUSSSSSS MAN RIGHT HERE

maybe won't show it as much as the other members

but would mutter "I'm better than him"

Sunghoon couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy bubbling within him. He tried to keep it under wraps, not wanting to show it as much as some of the other members, but the feeling lingered, simmering just beneath the surface.

"Lee Know, huh?" Sunghoon muttered under his breath, his tone laced with a mixture of competitiveness and insecurity. "I'm better than him."

You glanced over at him, catching his muttered words, and couldn't help but chuckle at his playful rivalry. "Sunghoon," you teased, nudging him gently, "there's no need to compare yourself. You're amazing in your own right."

Sunghoon couldn't help but smile at your words, feeling a little reassured by your encouragement. "Thanks," he replied, a hint of gratitude in his voice. "But I can't help it sometimes, you know?"

You nodded understandingly, reaching over to squeeze his hand affectionately. "I know," you said softly, "but just remember, you're the one I love, no matter what."

Sunghoon's smile widened at your words, his jealousy fading away as he focused on the warmth of your love. "I won't forget that," he promised, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. And with that, the two of you settled back to enjoy the rest of the performance, Sunghoon feeling secure in the knowledge that your heart belonged to him.

SUNOO 김선우 ~

not the jealous type

will fanboy with you

jut happy to see you happy

"Sunoo, you have to see this! The new music video from my favorite K-pop group just dropped!" YN exclaims, her eyes shining with excitement as she shows him her phone.

Sunoo smiles at her enthusiasm. "Sounds like a plan! Let's check it out together."

They settle onto the couch, YN leaning against Sunoo as she pulls up the video on her laptop. As the music video starts playing, YN can't contain her excitement, pointing out her favorite parts.

"Oh my gosh, Sunoo, look at this choreography! It's incredible!" YN squeals, nudging Sunoo excitedly.

Sunoo watches with amusement, enjoying YN's excitement as they watch together. When YN's favorite member appears on screen, she lets out a delighted squeal.

"He's so talented and cute! Isn't he?" YN gushes, turning to Sunoo with a blush. "But you know, you're the one I find the most talented and cute."

JUNGWON 양정원 ~

mine, only mine mindset

is very jealous and will show it

no, just no in his eyes

As you clapped and cheered, your eyes alight with admiration, you felt a sudden chill wash over you. Turning, you met Jungwon's intense gaze. His jaw was clenched, his expression tight with barely contained jealousy. You could practically feel the waves of disapproval emanating from him.

"Y/N," he said through gritted teeth, his voice low but sharp. "What are you doing?"

Confused, you tried to brush off his demeanor, "Just enjoying the show, Jungwon. Isn't it fantastic?"

But Jungwon's possessive grip tightened around your hand, his eyes darting between you and the stage. "They're not us. Why are you cheering for them?"

His words stung, his jealousy palpable in the air. You attempted to reassure him, "It's just music, Jungwon. It doesn't mean I love you any less."

But Jungwon's insecurities seemed to consume him. His grip tightened even more, his knuckles turning white. "No, it's not just music. It's about loyalty. You should only support me, Y/N. I'm the one you should be cheering for, not them."

His words sent a chill down your spine. You hadn't realized the depth of his possessiveness until now. Attempting to defuse the situation, you gently pulled away from him, trying to reason with him. "Jungwon, I love you, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate other artists. It doesn't diminish what we have."

But Jungwon's jealousy was a raging fire, consuming rational thought. "No, it's not enough. I won't have you cheering for anyone else but me."

NI-KI 西村 力 ~

chill, doesn't feel an ounce of jealousy

you come home to him anyway, he's so secure in himself and you

just the healthy amount of jealousy to show he's actually into you

"Hey, babe," he greeted you, setting his controller aside and standing up to welcome you with open arms. "So, how was your day?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine interest as he led you to the couch and poured you a cup of coffee.

As you recounted the events of your day, you couldn't help but mention a friend's excitement about a concert they attended, cheering for a band that wasn't Niki's own.

To your surprise, Niki's reaction was far from what you expected. Instead of insecurity or jealousy, his expression remained calm and understanding. "That sounds like fun," he remarked, his tone casual as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

And as you snuggled up together on the couch, basking in each other's company, you knew that with Niki, you had found a love that was secure, unwavering, and truly unconditional.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #engene #enha #enhypen x reader #heeseung #jake #sunghoon #jungwon #jay #niki #riki #sunoo'

[sunfyresrider]

A Helping Hand | Alicent Hightower

Tags: porn with plot, Alicent being a tad creepy, voyeurism, masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, we all need a friend like her! Word Count: 2364 Author’s Note: My short return to the hotd fandom!! (It’s a scary place.) I noticed I’m vastly better at writing intimate scenes between women than men🤔

One of Alicent’s favorite places to relax and relieve the stresses of the day was at the private sauna within her luxury apartment building. The old cooks that lived near her rarely ever used it, making it a place of solitude. That day was no different; Alicent stripped out of her usual expensive fabrics and put on a silk robe, packing her bag with the essentials and making her way to her place of solace.

As she approached she was pulled from her peaceful thoughts, her ears catching an almost inaudible noise. Someone, more specifically a female, was in the sauna. She pressed her head against the wall, listening intently to the sound. They were none other than muffled sighs of pleasure and quiet whimpers. Whoever it was, they sounded like they were having fun. Alicent peeked around the corner, and just as suspected, the door was cracked, and the light shone through the gap, revealing her friendly neighbor.

You looked nubile and young, the heat of the sauna made your skin shine with sweat and the flush in your cheeks was mesmerizing. Alicent watched your heaving chest with desire, your breasts bouncing freely, only constricted by a pair of bikini bottoms. Your legs were stretched out in front of you, as you rubbed your clit through the thin fabric, your head tilted backwards.

Alicent didn't know why, but she felt like a voyeur. You were too beautiful to ignore, and watching you pleasure yourself, hearing the lewd sounds your pussy made her mouth water. You were having trouble finishing, the thin layer of fabric separating you from your climax only working to frustrate you further. Your moans of pleasure quickly turned into a sigh of annoyance, you began to sit up, preparing to leave and give up on yourself.

She was nothing if not generous and Alicent owed you quite a lot, always offering your help in taking her dog out for walks or babysitting her children. If there was any time to repay your kindness, it was now. Her eyes locked with your wide ones as you looked up in shock, you just got caught!

She stepped out into the open and slowly closed the door behind her. Alicent let you admire her, watching you gulp, your eyes darting from her hardened nipples to the sash keeping her robe closed. “Having trouble?” She asked, slowly making her way to your spot on the bench, careful to stay within your view as she sat next to you.

You didn't know how to respond, all you knew was that this woman was as gorgeous as she was intimidating. And this was one of the most embarrassing moments of your existence. “M-Mrs. Hightower, I- I didn’t-” She cut you off with a smirk, a soft laugh escaping her. Alicent reached behind her and grabbed a bottle of massage oil, slowly pulling it from her bag. “No need to apologize, I’ve seen worse in my years.” She pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear as she looked at you, her eyes flickering from your face to your chest, back to your eyes. “I can help you, if you want. It's the least I can do for all the work you do for me.” She trailed the tips of her fingers across your jaw as she spoke.

Your mouth felt like sandpaper, the heat of the sauna making your skin flush more than ever. You swallowed thickly as you looked at her, your mind swimming. What was the harm? You always thought Alicent was gorgeous, you only did those tasks to be able to get her attention, but now that she was sitting in front of you, it was difficult to speak. “Y-yes please,” you managed to stutter out.

Alicent flashed you a toothy grin and stood up, her fingers slowly undoing the sash of her robe as she looked down at you. She stepped closer and pressed the fabric against your chest, slowly sliding the robe down off her shoulders, exposing herself to you. Your eyes couldn't help but fall to her breasts, they were so round and full, your eyes never seen such perfection. Whatever issue you had with becoming turned on was washed away.

She leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You let out a quiet gasp as her breasts pressed against your bare skin, she let out a giggle at your reaction. Her hands slipped under the strings, unhooking them as she whispered into your ear, “don’t be shy, it’s just me love.” Alicent continued to press gentle kisses against your cheeks as she slowly pulled the strings apart, exposing your breasts to the steamy room. She sighed in approval at your perfect form, letting her hands wander over your body.

Alicent slowly pressed you down on your back, you gazing up at her in awe. She grabbed the massage oil, dripping the cool liquid across your chest, coating her own hands. “It’s good to take things slow at first,” she spoke as she began massaging the oil into your skin, focusing on your breasts. You whimpered at the sudden contact, it had been so long since someone touched you like this, you couldn't help but melt under her skilled hands

Alicent looked over your body, licking her lips as she saw you respond to her touch. She needed to see you cum, and the only way she was going to do that was to work her way between your legs. Her hands worked unbearably slow as she massaged lower down your body, spreading it across your navel and thighs. She paused for a moment, enjoying the sight of you laying in front of her.

You looked up at her with pleading eyes, she was so close yet so far from where you needed her. Her eyes never left yours as she leaned forward, kissing your neck. Your breathing hitched in your throat as her teeth scraped against your skin. She continued to press open-mouthed kisses, moving from your neck to your breasts, taking your hard nipple into her mouth and suckling on it.

You let out a quiet gasp, your fingers tangling into Alicent's soft hair. Her hands finally slipped under the thin fabric, and you could feel her fingertips brushing your clit as she wettened the area. Purposefully massaging everything besides your sex.

Alicent pulled away from you with a wet pop, a smile spreading across her face as you tried to catch your breath. She gave you another gentle kiss before she sat up, sprawling your legs across her lap as she slowly slipped off your bottoms. Alicent smirked down at your dripping cunt, “such a beautiful pussy.” Her fingers brushed against it, causing you to buck your hips into her hand. She shushed you softly and stroked your cheek with her other hand, reassuring you as she massaged your lips.

“P-please,” you whimpered out, desperate to be touched by her. Alicent let out a quiet laugh. She pressed a finger against your entrance, testing the waters, before slowly pushing into you. She curled her finger, her eyes glazing over as you clenched around her. Alicent slowly pumped her finger into you, waiting for your breathing to slow down, her other hand still holding your cheek. Your eyes were heavy-lidded as she slipped in a second finger, poking at your spongy spot.

You mewled at the stimulation, She leaned forward again, this time her lips wrapping around your nipple, taking it into her mouth. Alicent swirled her tongue around the hardened nub, her hand beginning to move faster, her other hand sliding down your stomach. Her nimble fingers circling your clit, teasing it softly.

You let out a loud moan, your body beginning to tremble, your walls began to tighten around her fingers. Alicent didn't stop, continuing her ministrations, desperate to bring you to your peak. "That's it, youre doing so good for me baby," she cooed to you, her breath hot on your skin. The sauna quickly became filled with lewd noise, her fingers pumping in and out of you. Alicent let out a low growl, "you gonna cum for me?" She asked, her voice deep and sultry.

You looked down at her, your eyes meeting her hungry gaze. She pressed your clit harder, her fingers circling faster as you stared at her. You let out a loud moan, “Y-yes m’gonna cum.” She leaned forward again, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, your tongues meeting for the first time. You mewled into her mouth, her fingers repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

Your back arched off the bench as your orgasm washed over you, a loud moan leaving your lips. You came hard against Alicent's fingers, her lips swallowing every sound you made. She continued to rub your clit, helping you ride it out as she helped you through it. "Good girl," she cooed, peppering kisses all over your body as she slowly pulled her fingers from you. She brought her hand to her mouth, sucking your juices from her fingers, humming quietly. She opened her mouth, a loud pop following, pushing her fingers into your mouth.

“You taste so good, baby. I wanna taste more of you," she pureed as she pressed wet kisses onto your ear, “sit on my face, please.” You blinked away your post-orgasm haze, Alicent's words ringing in your head. "O-okay." You stuttered out, lifting yourself off the bench, standing in front of her. You could hear the excitement in her voice as she shuffled backward on the bench, giving you enough room to straddle her head. Face sitting was a first for you and you couldn’t help but be nervous.

You were in a state of limbo, too embarrassed to make the first move, so Alicent did for you. “Trust me love, you won’t crush me.” She wrapped her arms around your thighs, pulling your dripping cunt down to her waiting mouth. You sat your knees on the bench, hovering over her head waiting for what to do next. She looked up at you with a mischievous smile, licking her lips before leaning forward and running her tongue through your folds. She let out a low groan as you came in contact with her lips, your juices coating her tongue.

“O-oh fuck!” You moaned out, placing a hand on the back of her head. The feeling of her tongue against your sensitive clit was more than you could bear. Alicent gripped your hips tighter and sucked at your aching bud, “you have another in there for me? Don’t you?” She asked, a smirk forming on her lips as you whimpered above her, “m’yes, Mrs. Hightower.” She ran her tongue along your folds, swirling around your clit, slowly pushing her tongue into your hole. You clenched around her tongue, the sensation making you quiver.

You couldn't take the teasing, Alicent could feel you begin to tremble, "Please!" You begged. "Use your words, baby." She purred, pressing wet kisses along your thighs. "L-let me cum." You practically moaned out, desperation lacing your voice. Alicent quickly complied, pulling your thighs closer and burying her face into your cunt. She pushed her tongue back into you, your head spinning as you fell forward, grabbing the bench above her head. You let out a loud whimper as she wrapped her lips around your clit, her tongue flicking against it.

You began to grind against her face, coating her in your juices. Alicent’s tongue skillfully moved against you as she sucked, your fingers tangling in her hair. You began to tremble, her nose brushing against your clit with every movement. Her hands slowly crept down her stomach, massaging her own clit. "A-Alicent," you choked out, your grip in her hair tightening.

She pushed you against her, continuing her oral assault as she continued to finger her own sensitive spots, "I know, baby.” She cooed. Alicent let out a whimper of her own as she began to approach her finish, the vibrations of her voice making your eyes roll into the back of your head. Alicent's movements became more erratic, she sucked your clit into her mouth, swirling her tongue around your sensitive bud. You gripped the bench tighter, your walls beginning to tighten as you got closer.

“You gonna come with me, sweetheart?” She asked, her voice muffled. "I-I- yes!" You choked out, your legs beginning to shake, your body starting to feel like jelly. Alicent gave a low hum in approval, you could feel her smirk against you as you began to fall over the edge. Her tongue skillfully worked faster, her own moans of pleasure radiating through you.

You felt her legs tremble, Alicent's eyes screwed shut as she came undone. She let out a loud gasp, her lips connecting with your clit again, continuing to lap at it. Your walls tightened around her tongue, her moans vibrating against you, forcing you to cum. You threw your head back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as you came, Alicent drinking up all of your ecstasy. She slowed her ministrations, languidly kissing and licking your slit as you came down from your high.

She continued her soft licks until you moved off of her, collapsing on the bench beside her, panting heavily. Alicent quickly recovered, her face plastered in a Cheshire grin as she rolled onto her side to face you. She leaned forward, kissing your forehead, her hand playing with a lock of your hair. "I'm sure you're exhausted, i’ll help you get cleaned up. You can use my jacuzzi if you’d like," she offered, kissing your lips. You couldn't help but melt under her touch, she was so gentle and caring.

“Yes, Mrs. Hightower,” you murmured in reply. She let out a soft laugh at your response, giving you another quick kiss. “No please, call me Ali now.” You couldn't help but grin at her request, nodding your head in reply.

#Alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #Alicent hightower x you #alicent hightower fanfic #alicent hightower smut #alicent hightower imagine #hotd fic

[starboyshoyo]

Lip Gloss

Pairing: Vil x fem!reader

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 800

You run into Vil Schoenheit in the early morning, who decides that you need a bit of a makeover.

“Epel, you’d better have a good reason for waking me up at 5 am to bring you sweets,” you grumble into your phone speaker as you hurry along the halls of Pomefiore dorm. “I swore off visiting this cursed place a week ago, remember?” 

“Still not sure why you did that,” your best friend’s groggy voice came from the other side of the call. He sounded as if he had just woken up. “It’s not as if the dorm is haunted or somethin’. Ramshackle is worse when it comes to that stuff, y’know.” He pauses, and you hear a loud yawn in the background. “Just get here soon, ‘kay? I’ll let you in my room.” 

The line went dead before you could protest. Shoving the device in your pocket, you speed up, trying not to track mud onto the grand carpets as you go. But just as you round the corner to the first-year wing of the dorm, you run right into a firm- and familiar- chest. 

“Come here, potato. What is the issue with you today? Your uniform is a mess.”

Oh, no. As luck would have it, you’d bumped into Vil Schoenheit- the one person that you didn’t want to see today. In fact, he was the whole reason you were avoiding coming to Pomefiore in the first place. 

It’s not that you disliked Vil. In fact, you admired him quite a lot. But as of late, the sight of the handsome housewarden was making your heart do flips in your chest. Quelling the feeling took more of your emotional energy than you were willing to give up. So, your solution? Avoid him at all costs until you figured out a way to squash these growing feelings. 

“H-hi, Vil,” you sputter as he pulls you towards him, tugging on the collar of your shirt and aligning it better with your frame. “Um. There’s nothing wrong with me today. I just got out of bed, so I’m a little disheveled.” 

Vil clicks his tongue “One must be aware of how they look to others at all times,” he reprimands, but it’s clear that he’s not mad at you. His voice is gentle compared to the way he speaks to the others in his dorm. “Hmm… your hair is getting a little on the thin side. You should come by my dorm room later today- I have a shampoo that’ll fix it up right away.” 

You’re fidgeting under his touch as he fusses over you. Your face is heating up more by the minute, and you’re thankful that his attention is trained elsewhere, lest he notice your flustered expression. “I appreciate the help, but I really have to go see my friend now,” you hedge, trying to inch away from him.

“Not so fast.” Vil reaches his arm out, placing it on the wall beside you to keep you from escaping. “You don’t have any makeup on, potato. Do you expect me to just let you go, bare-faced?”

He guides you towards one of the benches in the hallway nearby and all but forces you to sit, before settling down beside you. Out of nowhere, he pulls out a makeup bag, emblazoned with his name. Vil opens a small compact mirror and reapplies his lip gloss, then turns to you again. “Close your eyes. I have some foundation and eyeshadow here that’ll fit your complexion perfectly.”

It’s oddly peaceful, letting your eyelids flutter shut gently while the soft bristles of a makeup brush dance over them. For a moment, you can forget just how close Vil’s face is to yours; how his hands brush over the apple of your cheeks while he applies blush and contour. Your phone is ringing in your pocket- Epel must be getting impatient. But you can’t bring yourself to pick it up. 

Soon enough, Vil taps your cheek gently, prompting you to open your eyes once again- just in time to see Vil swipe a tube of lip gloss over your lips- the same one that he had used on his own just minutes ago. 

You all but squeak when he’s done, nearly ruining his hard work when you try to bury your face in your hands. Fortunately, Vil catches them just in time, shaking his head. 

“Ah-ah, you know better than to touch. What’s gotten you so worked up today?” Vil releases one of your hands to cup under your chin, coaxing you to look him in the eyes. You’re vaguely aware of yourself as you mutter something about an indirect kiss, dying inside as you realize that he heard you. But to your surprise, Vil just laughs- and presses his lips to yours in a gentle peck. “Potato, if you wanted a real kiss, all you had to do was ask.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #pomefiore x reader #pomefiore #twst vil #twst vil schoenheit

[zapreportsblog]

Can you do Brahms x Dom male reader

❝the enigmatic of brahms heelshire ❞

✭ pairing : brahms heelshire x male reader

✭ fandom : slashers

✭ summary : behind closed doors brahms isn’t exactly what the town would think of him as

✭ slashers masterlist

Brahms Heelshire had always been a mysterious figure in the small town of Blackwood. With his stoic demeanor and enigmatic presence, he was the talk of the neighborhood. But little did they know, behind closed doors, Brahms shared his life with a dominant partner named (M/N), a man who held a captivating power over him.

(M/N) was a commanding presence, exuding strength and confidence in every step. He had a way of making Brahms feel both cherished and controlled, a delicate balance that sent shivers down his spine.

Their relationship was built on trust and mutual understanding, a dance of dominance and submission that both partners embraced wholeheartedly. Brahms reveled in the feeling of (M/N)'s firm hand guiding him, the way his touch could ignite a fire within him.

In the privacy of their home, (M/N) would often take on the role of the master, guiding Brahms through a world of pleasure and pain. The power dynamics between them were intense, yet tender, with each act of dominance serving as an expression of their deep connection.

Brahms found solace in the control that (M/N) exerted over him. There was comfort in surrendering himself completely, in allowing his partner to take the lead. It was a delicate dance, a delicate balance that brought them both immense satisfaction.

But their relationship extended beyond the confines of the bedroom. (M/N) was a pillar of support for Brahms, encouraging him to embrace his true self and pursue his passions. He saw the potential within Brahms, pushing him to explore his artistic talents and nurturing his creative spirit.

Together, they created a world that was uniquely their own—a world where Brahms could be both submissive and strong, vulnerable and empowered. (M/N) understood the depths of Brahms' desires, his need to be controlled and cherished, and he provided that with unwavering dedication.

As the outside world speculated about the enigmatic Brahms Heelshire, they remained blissfully unaware of the intricate tapestry of their relationship. To the outside world, Brahms was a mysterious figure, but to (M/N), he was so much more—a cherished submissive partner who embraced his desires with open arms.

Their love was unconventional, but it was built on a foundation of trust, respect, and unwavering devotion. Together, they navigated the complexities of dominance and submission, finding solace and fulfillment in each other's arms.

And as the world continued to wonder about Brahms Heelshire, they remained blissfully ignorant, finding solace and strength in the intimate connection they shared.

Brahms and (M/N) had always maintained a discreet presence in the town of Blackwood, keeping their intimate relationship hidden from prying eyes. But as their connection deepened, they felt an increasing desire to reveal their true selves, to embrace their desires openly.

One evening, as they sat together in the dimly lit living room, Brahms mustered the courage to voice his longing. "I want to show the world who we truly are, (M/N)," he confessed, his voice filled with determination.

(M/N) regarded him with a mix of surprise and admiration, his eyes shining with understanding. "Are you sure, Brahms?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. "Once we reveal ourselves, there's no going back. The world may not accept us."

Brahms nodded, his eyes filled with unwavering certainty. "I know it won't be easy," he replied. "But I can't hide who I am any longer. I want to live authentically, and I want to do it with you."

A smile tugged at the corners of (M/N)'s lips as he reached out to caress Brahms' cheek. "Then let's do it, my love," he whispered. "Let's show the world the depth of our connection, the beauty of our desires."

With their decision made, Brahms and (M/N) embarked on a journey of self-acceptance and liberation. They knew that revealing their relationship would be met with mixed reactions, but they were determined to live their truth.

They started by opening up to their closest friends, sharing the intimate details of their dynamic and the profound love they had for each other. To their surprise, their friends responded with acceptance and support, embracing their relationship without judgment.

Encouraged by this positive reception, Brahms and (M/N) decided to take a bolder step. They attended local LGBTQ+ events together, proudly holding hands and displaying their affection for all to see. They became advocates for acceptance and understanding, sharing their story and encouraging others to embrace their true selves.

The town of Blackwood slowly began to shift its perspective, as Brahms and (M/N) became symbols of love and authenticity. People started to see beyond the societal norms and embrace the beauty of their connection.

But not everyone was accepting of their relationship. There were those who held onto their prejudice and ignorance, casting judgment and spewing hateful words. Brahms and (M/N) faced moments of heartache and frustration, but their love for each other remained unshaken.

They found strength in their bond, supporting each other through the difficult times and rising above the negativity. Their love became a beacon of hope, inspiring others to challenge their own biases and embrace the diversity of human connection.

As the years passed, Brahms and (M/N) continued to live their lives authentically, unapologetically showcasing their love for each other. They became an inseparable pair, setting an example of love, acceptance, and resilience.

Their story resonated far beyond the boundaries of Blackwood, reaching people from different walks of life who found solace in their journey. They became a symbol of love's triumph over adversity, reminding the world that true happiness lies in embracing our authentic selves, no matter the obstacles.

Through their courage and unwavering commitment to each other, Brahms and (M/N) left an indelible mark on the town of Blackwood and the hearts of those who encountered their story. And in the process, they taught the world the power of love and acceptance, forever changing the narrative of what it means to live authentically.

#x reader #x reader one shot #x reader oneshot #x male reader #brahms x you #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms the boy #brahms x reader #brahms x male reader #brahms x y/n #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire x y/n #brahms heelshire x you #brahms heelshire x male reader #x reader requests #slashers #slashers imagines #slashers masterlist #slashers imagine #slashers x you #slashers x reader

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Frankie isn't afraid of growing old [Frankie x gn!reader]

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Read on Ao3

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x you (I think it’s gn!reader, correct me if I’m wrong).

Warnings: Implied sex at the end, but this is just short and sweet and sfw.

Summary: You like Frankie's hair and beard and body? Idek.

Words: 788

You stop on the threshold to the bathroom, and lean on the door frame, admiring the view before you.

Frankie’s just out of the shower, towel hanging low on his narrow hips, his pudgy belly protruding over the edge of the cotton. Long, strong legs, thick thighs (now hidden by the towel), broad shoulders, arms muscular by physical labor, not lifting weights. A bit of a double chin forming, round cheeks when he smiles – which he does often. Facial hair growing out of order, silver scattered among the dark bristles. His hair echoes that salt and pepper, and newly washed, towel-dried… Good lord, those curls.

Your man is a hot piece of ass, there’s no other way of putting it.

He glances over at you, a little smile playing in the corner of his mouth as he reaches for the shaving cream.

”What?”

”You know what,” you smile back.

”I don’t.”

”Yes you do, stud. You’re so fucking sexy.”

His ears turn pink, and he hurries to lather his face with shaving cream.

”Thanks.” His voice is demure, but warm, and his long lashes are cast down as he picks up his razor, before looking up in the mirror.

”Why the shaving?” you ask, now entering the bathroom. He raises a brow at you, razor at the ready.

”Honey, I look like Hugh Jackman in X-Men.”

”You say that like it’s a bad thing…”

”It’s beginning to look unkempt.”

You grab a towel from the rack, and dab a little at his face. ”Just a little touch-up? I like your facial hair.”

”It’s getting itchy.”

”That’s because you’re not using the products I got you,” you roll your eyes and give Frankie a ”told you so” look. He smiles back, sheepishly, and puts down the razor. You take that as an invitation to wet the towel, and start to wipe the cream off his face. A lock of hair falls down his forehead, and you brush it to the side, letting your fingers run through the damp curls. Frankie releases a small sigh, as do you.

God, how you love that he’s just who he is. He’s not ashamed of his body, doesn’t sweat it that he’s going grey (you almost spit out your drink the first time you saw Benjamin with his newly colored hair – there’s a guy who refuses to grow old), and doesn’t care if you shave your body hair or not.

Frankie just isn’t afraid of growing old. He welcomes it with open arms, now that he’s out of the military, alive and spending the rest of his life with you.

”Just a little trim?” you now suggest, and Frankie agrees. You take the electric razor from its dock, check the setting, then go over your man’s mustache and patchy beard. When you’re done, you change the setting again, and touch up the edges. Finally, you take out the beard oil, and carefully massage it onto his face. All the time, Frankie’s eyes are fixed on yours, half closed like those of a cat enjoying itself in a patch of sunlight.

”There,” you finally nod, patting his cheek. ”Pretty as a pony.”

Frankie chuckles, now tearing his gaze from you, and checking himself in the mirror. He runs his palms over his cheeks, turns his face this way and that to check all the angles.

”Thanks,” he finally says, looking happy. He may not be that interested in trying to look young, but he does want to look good with what he has. ”It’s much better.”

”You’re very welcome,” you smile, equally happy with the result. Frankie draws his fingers through his hair.

”I think I’ll see if the barber has an opening tomorrow.”

”Noooo,” you protest, taking his hands away from his hair, and running your own fingers through the curls that you love so much. ”No touchy!”

”Honestly, baby, I’m beginning to think that you won’t love me anymore if I were to turn bald!”

”I wouldn’t,” you tell him cruelly. ”You wouldn’t be the same without the hair.”

”You’re breaking my heart,” he mock sobs dramatically. ”You’re only with me because I look good.”

”Well, duh.”

You lean in, smelling the beard oil and body wash on him. Tentatively, your lips brush over his.

”I’ll tell you a secret,” you whisper, your hands sneaking around his waist, pulling him in close, his big warm belly pressing up against you.

”Yeah?” He nips at your lips, hands coming to just above your ass.

”I don’t like the idea of someone else touching your hair.”

”Jealousy is a good look on you…”

”Everything looks good on me.”

”True.”

You untie the towel around his hips, and Frankie presses his grinning lips to yours.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier fanfic #my fic #x reader

[ivymarquis]

The B.A.G. Coalition

Did I use one of my work breaks on my 14hr shift to write this? Yes, yes I did. I also took time out of my day to make sure my introduction to the COD MWII fandom was a crack!fic despite promising angst with Ghost and simping from Price. Both of which are still coming.

Tags; platonic 141 + Reader, crack fic, drinking, weaponization of barrack bunnies, dunking on Graves.

I don’t know how the military works and I don’t care to learn.

You try really, really hard to not fixate too much on the whole being a woman in the boy’s club thing because you’ll drive yourself insane if you do.

You’re good at your job, you’re not getting preferential treatment, and all is right in the world. Your team was cautious, gauging your capabilities but ultimately warming up to you and welcoming you into the fold.

A mission planned with 141 and Shadow company means that Graves is a tolerated interloper into the group.

Everyone is settled into a booth in the corner of a pub near base, a few drinks in as the night wears on. You are finally feeling settled in and like your feet are firmly underneath you and you’re no longer treading water, watching your back as the other 141 assess you.

And it’s the exact moment when Graves asks “Are you seeing anybody?” that you realize you’ve girlbossed entirely too close to the fucking sun.

The table’s reaction is immediate. Your “I beg your pardon?” is muffled by Ghost’s “Sod off, Graves,” Soap’s “She’s been fucking drinking” and Gaz shooting him a look while Price clears his throat with a pointed “Commander?”

Good to know your team has your back because what the fuck.

“Not like that,” you’re not entirely certain if he’s back peddling or being genuine, “I don’t know what it is but none of the women around this base date. It’s like pulling teeth.”

“Really?” Gaz asks. “I haven’t been having any issues.”

Your eyebrow arches, reaching for your drink as you realize there’s not enough alcohol in the world for this conversation. “Yeah no ever since the B.A.G. Coalition was formed, you’re gonna have to download Tinder or something, Commander” You speak without thinking, a look of horror dawning on you that the alcohol has loosened your lips a little too much. Well, shit.

“The what?” Graves asks incredulously.

You panic, reflex having you turn towards Price. “Please get me out of here,” you plead with him.

“Oh no can do, Sergeant.”

You cling to your glass like a buoy. “I’ve said too much,” you whisper.

“What the hell is the B.A.G. Coalition?” Graves asks again.

Taking a long draught of your drink, you steel yourself for both this conversation and the potential wrath of the bunnies now the open secret was out.

“Have you… noticed how the barrack bunnies don’t have anything to do with you?”

His eyebrows draw together. “Guess I never bothered to worry about it. Not like they’re hard to find,”

That last sentence had some teeth to it that you did not appreciate. Especially coming from a man who’s managed to piss off an entire base of them. “Hey now, I love the bunnies, you gotta be nice to them,” you admonish before remembering yourself and quickly adding a “Sir”.

The alcohol has your mind drifting away from the question at hand and going slightly to the left- still focused on the bunnies, but no longer directly leading to the coalition.

“They do important work and make my life easier when some guy is being obnoxious and won’t leave me alone,” you elaborate. “Also most of them are really nice and I don’t blame them for having a type and staying focused on it. I admire the commitment and tenacity.”

“Wait who was bothering you?” Price would hone in on that part.

“No one anymore, after I weaponized one of the bunnies and pointed her in his direction.”

“You…. Weaponized a barrack bunny?” Soap sounded out the idea, clearly having some image of a tactical assault bunny in mind.

“Yes I did. It was absolutely incredible. Poor guy never saw her coming- it was like watching a lioness take down a wounded gazelle.”

“A bunny battalion,” Gaz sighs into his drink, his pupils damn near in the shape of hearts at whatever image his brain was conjuring.

“What the fuck do barrack bunnies have to do with this coalition you’re talking about,” Graves tries to redirect the question.

Shit. Right.

Like, you get why he’s confused. From his perspective at least. Tall, blonde, conventionally attractive with a southern drawl most girls would go gaga over, not to mention the commander of Shadow Company. He should be having women chase him from all over. And here he was with no bitches and getting zero play.

And yet none of those attributes were actually indicative of him like… being a good person. Graves soured you like 3 day old sweet tea. There was something both saccharine and bitter about him all wrapped together even if you didn’t know for sure what the problem was.

“You did something to piss off the bunnies. I don’t know what and frankly I'm afraid to ask. Like, I thought maybe some supreme pick me bunny would rise from the ranks and make her move anyway but they have made a united front. It is both impressive and terrifying,” you’ve got just enough alcohol in your system that fuck it, let’s tell a superior officer a little something about himself that he clearly doesn’t know. “And the rest of us noticed. So it slowed the not-bunnies rolls too.”

There’s a beat of silence before the lightbulb clicks in Ghost’s head and he is busting out laughing. You don’t think you’ve heard him ever make that much noise even when he’s grousing out orders.

Gaz is the next one for the lightbulb to go off, verbalizing what B.A.G. stood for to a stupified Commander (and equally stunned Soap and Price).

“It’s Bunnies Against Graves!”

#141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #my writing #crack!fic #kyle gaz garrick #john price #john soap mactavish #it will never not be funny to me that graves is reviled by the fandom community for betraying 141 #the war crimes are not a big deal but YOU DONT GO AGAINST THE BOYS D< #phillip graves

[argentiluver]

Beauty and the Beast… || Fyodor Dostoyevsky x G/N Shy Long-Haired! Reader - Bungou Stray Dogs

A/N: This is supposed to be based off that joke going on in the bsd fandom that Fyodor has a type; people with long, white hair in a braid (mostly made by fyolai shippers) lol but you won’t exactly be white-haired, you’ll just have long hair and you’re just pretty shy.

Warnings: fyodor being a complete menace, possibly ooc (idk how to write his character with a lover 😭)

Translation: Lyubov - Love in Russian.

Fyodor sat in his chair, his purple eyes boring into the back of your head somewhat tauntingly with a smirk on his face as his fingers worked on your long hair. One of his hands were placed on the lower part of said hair while the other was reaching to grab a few more hair-ties on his desk.

At the moment, Fyodor’s lover, who was prone to be quite shy and nervous, was sitting in his lap awkwardly as he braided their long, beautiful hair with a smirk on his face (for some reason) which worried them on said reason.

Fyodor loved braids and people with long hair in general…They were gorgeous in his perspective. You fit that description perfectly with your long, luscious hair waiting to be tended for…

You fidgeted with your fingers here and there as Fyodor continued to braid your hair with a smirk on his face, enjoying your concern on why he’s being so affectionate suddenly.

His fingers moved with great expertise and skill, braiding your hair with the utmost care and love, his smirk never wavering. He was not a person to show affection often, but with you, there was an exception. You were truly one of a kind, he would never grow tired of admiring your beauty. Although he enjoyed the act of braiding your hair, he also enjoyed seeing you fidget and try to maintain your composure.

At some point, you spoke with a clear of your throat, “Fyodor? Is there any reason for this sudden act of affection…?” You asked quietly, looking at him from the corner of your eyes, “It’s unlike you…”

Fyodor briefly stopped his movements in braiding your hair before chuckling in amusement and continuing.

Finally, he spoke again in a somewhat teasing voice, Russian accent ringing, "I am simply displaying my love and appreciation for you, my Lyubov. There is nothing odd or out of the ordinary about that." He states as he leaned in close to you, running his fingers through your silky hair gently. He was so enamored by the way your hair shimmered in the light.

"And you certainly seem to be enjoying my actions..." He added with a smirk, tilting his head over your shoulder to see you better. His words caused you to stiffen slightly and your cheeks to flush at his words.

You tried to avoid eye-contact, facing your lap which only seemed to amuse Fyodor further.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that, I—well, it’s not like I mind getting my hair braided by you…” You mumbled as Fyodor pushed a few loose locks of your hair near the sides of your face as if he were trying to do a specific hairstyle, “I guess I’m just a little surprised by the sudden act of affection…”

His smirked widened at your slight blush, he loved the way that you seemed flustered despite your claim to not be bothered by it. He loved the way that you were trying to maintain your composure and keep a stiff face despite your evident excitement.

"And I am not complaining about getting to braid your hair either. You see, dear, I have always found your long hair to be quite beautiful. It truly is...An angelic beauty.." The ravenette chuckled, finally finishing the braid with one last knot.

You couldn’t help but blush at his words, flattered that such sweet words came out of a cruel man like Fyodor’s mouth as you averted your gaze to your lap.

Fyodor only chuckled at your reaction, running his fingers through your hair and admiring the way it ran through his fingers softly. Fyodor was not known for displaying any sort of kindness or flattery, which made your reaction a rather understandable thing. It wasn’t every day that he spoke with such affection, but when it came to you, there was always an exception.

"Such a lovely shade of red, it suits you very well, Lyubov..." Fyodor chuckled as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. He enjoyed it quite a bit when you were embarrassed like this, but he enjoyed it even more when you would try and hide it.

You continued to stare at your lap, too embarrassed to look at him with a flushed face. Clearly, Fyodor was having an amazing time teasing you and complimenting you like this, knowing how flustered you get as you weren’t one that was used to compliments.

Fyodor sighed in a mockingly upset tone, tilting his head to the side more to face you, his short, black hair swaying to the side, "Lyubov, why must you avoid my eyes?” He asked as he pulled your chin up slightly with the tip of his finger, wanting you to look at him.

You were taken aback when he suddenly grabbed your chin, stammering slightly, your eyes widening.

“Well—it’s just…You kinda just…Flattered me with the sudden affection…” Your eyes drifted to the side briefly before you looked back over to him and quickly added, “Not like I minded…! I enjoyed how gentle you were with my hair, and those compliments you kept giving me…It was just out of no where, I didn’t expect it.”

Fyodor tilted his head with an impish grin, still holding your chin in between his bare fingers, "Ah? So, I managed to take your breath away once again? I must be truly exceptional…” He teased with a chuckle of amusement, his eyes meeting your own.

"But, there is no need to be embarrassed, my Lyubov…I truly meant every word that I said. Your hair is absolutely beautiful, dearest." He continued to compliment, looking you up and down and noticing how your face had reddened slightly.

"And so are you, that much is obvious…”

His words clearly took you by surprise as you let out a grunt and quickly turned away with flushed cheeks, avoiding eye-contact with your beloved.

You were so easy to tease and fluster…It was just too much fun for Fyodor to deny the chance to make you all red in the face like this.

Fyodor noticed the way your ears flushed red alongside your face, your soft pink hues were amusing to him. When you turned away, he placed both his hands on your cheeks and made you face him once again.

"Stop pretending you are not enjoying this, Lyubov, we both know you adore the attention I give you."

His smirk widened as he said these words, enjoying how flustered it made you.

After a while, you finally turned back to him with a small smile, your face held in between his palms before you spoke, “Well, I guess I can’t deny that…I do enjoy the affection you kept giving me as much as it surprised me a little…”

You then shifted in his lap and hesitantly leaned your head onto his shoulder, a look of amusement suddenly crossing Fyodor’s face.

Fyodor rose his brows at your sudden affection, but didn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest, only amused.

"How cute, you're even using me as a pillow…You look quite comfortable."

Fyodor chuckled as he ran his fingers through your hair, feeling each individual strand and looking at your pink tinged ears. Every small reaction was amusing for him, he was never tired of the ways you responded, all of your actions were quite amusing as you were very easy to read.

"Let's see how long you can last in my lap, Lyubov. Do you think you could stay in this position without any troubles?" He teases, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer in his arms.

“What do you mean “without any troubles” ?” You furrowed your brows, taken aback by his words as you looked up at him, chin resting on his chest now.

Fyodor hummed as he looked at you, your reaction to his words were too amusing to miss.

"What I mean by “without any troubles” is,” He began before placing his hand under your chin and lifting it so you and him were face-to-face, “how long can you control yourself with being so close to me?"

Your breath hitched at his words and the close proximity, your face reddening before you quickly pulled away and hid your face in his neck, clearly flustered, “I-I think I’ll be fine…” You mumbled, your face only reddening even worse when you heard his chuckle.

Fyodor smirked as you buried yourself in his neck, wrapping another arm around you to pull you closer. He enjoyed teasing you like this, their little banter was quite amusing for him.

"Ah, sure you will. I am sure you will be just fine, little mouse…”

He kissed your head and began to stroke your braid lightly as to not ruin it with a small smirk.

You continued to lay in his arms as he stroked your hair, your cheek now pressed against his chest comfortably. But due to how gentle his fingers were, you suddenly found yourself slowly falling asleep in his arms, eyes fluttering shut and soft breathing beginning to leave you.

Fyodor let out a small chuckle as you fell asleep, your braid draped around you by Fyodor so it doesn’t touch the ground. He loved watching you sleep in his arms, you looked so lovely and peaceful as the light shined on your long hair. Seeing you this way was simply an endearing sight.

“My, don’t tell me you’re falling asleep on me that quick, my Lyubov…Was my touch really that comforting?”

Yet all he got in response was a sleepy hum as you shifted in his arms, pressing your head closer to him, causing your braid to fall to the side slightly.

Fyodor chuckled and decided to peck the end of your braid as you slept so peacefully. Your soft breathing was so calming to hear that Fyodor didn’t want to disrupt your little nap, and simply continued to stroke your hair.

However, he can’t deny that he couldn’t wait to see your reaction once you wake up and realize you’re still in his lap, already imagining the flushed look on your face…

I don’t like this tbh, I feel like it was rushed and Fyodor was OOC 😭 but anyway Fyodor 🤝 long haired ppl with braids

@zenfxc

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #x reader #bsd x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor #fyodor x reader #braid #braided hair #braids #fluff #marry me fyodor #maybe you’re kinda coo-coo

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

Eri!!! 🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/ghosttownwherenoonegoes/718476780121505792/in-honour-of-the-1st-year-anniversirywith-our-baby?source=share

I'll get my new sideline uniform for cheer next week because the season starts and...maybe Eddie reacting to that? Or accompanying me to cheer for me while I'm cheering? That's the dream 🖤

The cheerleader's cheerleader

Kiki!!🥰✨Okay, so I thought long and hard about this request, what to write and how to write it, and I think I finally got something worthy of the person who not only introduced me to Eddie Munson, but also coaxed me into watching Stranger Things and therefore introduced me to a comfort character and a comfort show in one hit!!💗I hope that you enjoy this. I did a lot of research on cheer; watched some videos, studied your DMs and tried to incorporate everything that I could, and I did my bestest!!! Thank you for everything, Kiki, you made this fandom my home and I'm so grateful for everything.🫂

Word count: 1, 150.

(It had to be this GIF, it had to be.🤣🥺My heart is aching, I miss him so much.💔)

SOME physical description given; reader is a flyer so they are explicitly described as being small. Kiki was absolutely in mind 100% when I wrote this so it’s very tailored to her. I hope others can enjoy it, though.

You had been quietly and impatiently waiting for your sideline uniform to be sent to you through the post; the cheerleading season started soon and that was all you were waiting on for your position as a flyer to become official. Somehow, the experience of getting to go back into cheerleading and your corresponding emotions became more real once you had the uniform in your hands, adorable hair ribbons included.

It was supposed to arrive this week and you couldn't have been more pleased, excited and nervous if you had tried. Eddie, if it was possible, was even more of everything than you were. The sweet boy was like a sponge, soaking up the atmosphere around you as you seemed almost to vibrate whenever you sat or stood still for an extended period of time. You reminded Eddie - and Uncle Wayne, when the plant let him have a rare night off - of himself, when he was in the throes of planning a new campaign. He would giggle to himself as he made contingency plans of contingency plans, come up with creative ways for his sheep's characters to get themselves out of the stick situations he threw them into, a shepherd tending to his flock even as he tortured them just a little, just enough to get them squirming in their seats and whispering wishes into hands cupped around many sided dice. He was a sadistic Dungeon Master and yet he experienced genuine happiness and excitement when he was bested, proud of his sheep and of his Hellfire boys.

And you, oh, you were a live wire. Cheer was the only sports you had ever enjoyed. It was one of your true callings in life, you could feel it deep in your bones. You had been given the position of a flyer due to your physical stature; you were small which meant that you could do backflips in the air, reach the top of the pyramid, be thrown around and receive the attention and admiration of an entire crowd of people. It was incredibly difficult, and it was a sport which Eddie had a lot of respect for. He never included cheerleaders in his anti-conformity canteen-table rants for a reason and that was because it was genuinely hard to be a cheerleader. It required so much practice, determination, passion and trust in the other cheerleaders. But shit like bastketball? Toss a ball into a basket and that was the extent of it... Eddie had no respect for that. None at all. Jocks weren't worth it, but cheerleaders? Eddie admired them.

You loved the thrill of being up in the air, of feeling the wind in your hair and seeing the gymnasium from an angle very few got to. It gave you an adrenaline high like nothing else, and Eddie loved the spark it put in your eyes.

"Hey, sweetheart?" Eddie came bounding around the corner of his bedroom, his dark curls brushing against the tops of his shoulders and his chocolate eyes soft with love for you. He was holding a package in his hands and you knew just from the smirk of your face what he was bringing you. "Look what I've got ~ " the gleeful sing song of his voice made you grin, the expression infectious as Eddie couldn't keep his own off his face. Oh, but you two were always feeding off each other's emotions and making any moment even more special between the two of you. You were so very similar, in many ways.

You loved cheer, you loved it, and you needed no prompting at all from Eddie to grab the package as you tore it open and your eyes consumed the first sight of your uniform, as your hands felt the material for the first time; tougher than usual thanks to the factory starch which was always put onto new clothes. Eddie's smile was still almost as wide as his face, threatening to split his cheeks in two as he watched you. You were so happy, squealing and expressing your excitement so viscerally that you weren't even fully aware of yourself, and the sweet man was simply enjoying your happiness and deriving his own from it. If you were the sunshine, then Eddie was the tallest sunflower, following you wherever you went for the pleasure of your warmth across his face.

"Go try it on, babe, go on," The upward lilt of Eddie's voice sounded a lot like when he was goading his sheep to make a decision during a tense moment in a campaign, and you were gone like a bullet from a gun, leaving Eddie staring after you with an ache in his chest.

When had the Dungeon Master become the cheerleader's cheerleader?

Thankfully, your unform fit with no problems and days passed, until finally, finally, it was the first day of the season. If Eddie had thought that you were excited before, when you received your uniform in the post, then it had nothing on what you were feeling right now. You had your feet firmly on the ground and yet it felt like you were already on the top of the pyramid, your lungs burning in your chest, your body working hard to keep you steady atop the others, your adrenaline high even higher than you. You were on cloud nine and Eddie was right there beside you, his hand tightly in yours, fingers interlocked.

"So, sweetheart," Eddie tooks his keys out of the ignition and turned to smirk at you, his hands reaching out in opposite directions; one sliding up from your knee where it had rested to wrap around your wrist, and the other grasping for the door handle. You should have known that what it looked like Eddie was doing, wasn't what he had planned. "You ready to do that, y'know," he mimed a very weak, silly imitation of cheerleading to make you giggle, "thing you do?"

Your voice was saturated with sunshine and laughter as you said, "you coming with me? That'd be a dream, Eddie." You cracked the passenger side door open but remained in your seat, wanting every second right beside Eddie. Oh, but you loved him so much that it put a solid ache in your chest.

Eddie leaned over the console between your seats to give you a lingering, tender kiss to your forehead as he murmured, "I wouldn't wanna be anywhere else. I promise." Something shifted in his chest as he said that. Something clicked into place for him, just as it had for you the day that you had signed up for cheer once again. Eddie remembered a few days ago when he had asked himself to recall when the Dungeon Master had also become the cheerleader's cheerleader?

But now he knew the answer. He could feel it in his bones...

... It was the day he had fallen in love with you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x cheerleader reader #eddie munson x cheer!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things x reader

[katareyoudrilling]

Construction Corner (AU Joel Miller x Female Reader)

Episode 4: Marcus & Teresa

Fandom: The Last of Us/Pedro Pascal

Pairing: TV Host Joel Miller x divorced Female Reader

Summary: You deal with a difficult homeowner situation that stirs up some feelings.

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Alternate Universe, cameos galore, inaccuracies about tv show production, filming, and construction, a bit of angst, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected PiV (conversations have happened offscreen, be safe!)

A/N: This episode got a bit angstier than I originally intended, but I’m really happy with how it turned out. I am playing very fast and loose with canon for this cameo.  Reader is divorced and in her late 30s but is otherwise a blank slate.  I hope you enjoy!

Comments and reblogs very much appreciated!

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Something is wrong.

Yesterday, you chalked it up to nerves.  It wasn’t unusual for homeowners to freeze up a little in front of the cameras on the first day of shooting, but they usually got over it quickly.

Today though… you don’t think it’s nerves.

You met newly engaged couple Marcus Pike and Teresa Lisbon a few months ago at their casting interview.  Marcus had surprised Teresa by buying a house for their future family.  The two of them stared lovingly into each other’s eyes and laughed as they recounted starting a renovation project that quickly got out of their control.

Their project was just right for the show slot and their love story was sure to be a hit with viewers. It was a no-brainer booking.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been.

Watching them now, Teresa looks like she would rather be anywhere else but here.  She stands woodenly next to Marcus with a pasted-on smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.  Since filming began yesterday, she has only offered one-word answers as she robotically goes through the motions of the show.

Marcus, on the other hand, is overly enthusiastic.  His eyes shine with manic energy, while his smile is too big, too bright.  He has the look of a man trying desperately to hold things together by sheer force of will.

You recognize both of their expressions.

You’ve seen them in the mirror.

Suddenly it’s not the sun making you feel too warm.  You excuse yourself and retreat to the shade and privacy behind one of the crew trailers.  You sink into the cool grass and rest your head back against the trailer, allowing painful memories to crest over you and then recede.

Joel finds you there a few minutes later.

“Everythin’ ok, sweetheart?” he asks gently, lowering himself to the grass next to you.

You lean your head onto this shoulder.

“Yeah,” you sigh.  “Just… memories.”

“Not happy ones, I’m guessin’?”

“Not really, no.”

“I don’t know what’s goin’ on with those two, but it ain’t good.”

You lace your fingers through Joel’s and stroke his knuckles gently. His strong, work-roughened hands make yours look even softer and more delicate.  You love the contrast.  You sit side by side for a few quiet minutes admiring how your hands fit together.

“Just have to get through the rest of today and tomorrow and hope it’s salvageable,” you sigh.

“I reckon it will be.  I’m layin’ a floor.  There are sure to be extra shots of my rear end.”  You bury your face in his shoulder to stifle your laughter.

“You’re a good sport, you know.”  You rest your chin on his shoulder.

“I do know,” he says, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“I can’t wait until tomorrow night,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes.  His warm, chocolate brown eyes a soothing balm to your aching heart.

“Neither can I,” he rasps.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

You spend Friday morning on the phone confirming material deliveries for next week’s shoot.  When you arrive at set after lunch, Patty, the director, makes a beeline for you.

“We have a problem.”  Patty doesn’t mince words.  “Teresa stormed off, Marcus followed after her, we need to get them back to finish this thing.  Joel is setting up to film his bit on installing quarter round, but I need them soon.”

You take a deep breath in and exhale slowly through your nose.  The cast wrangling parts of your job as producer were usually fun – getting to meet new people, hear their stories, and make their houses beautiful – but today wasn’t going to be one of the fun ones.

“I’ll take care of it,” you assure her as your make your way in the direction she indicated.

You find Marcus first.  He’s pacing on the side of the house, tugging at the back of his neck, tension rolling off him in waves.

“Hey, Marcus,” you start, tentatively, “what’s going on?”

“I don’t understand,” he turns to you looking panicked, his tidy brown hair ruffled and eyes wide, “I’ve given her everything she wanted.  Why is she upset?”  He runs his hand through his hair and drags it down his face.

“Let me talk to her,” you pat him soothingly on the shoulder.  “Why don’t you get something to drink and try to relax for a bit.”

Marcus bobs his head in agreement and makes his way toward the craft services table.  You continue around the back of the house and spot Teresa at the back fence.

You make your way over and lean on the fence beside her.

“It was all so romantic,” she says, looking into the distance at nothing in particular.  “I don’t know what changed or when… am I crazy for not wanting this?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly.  There are no easy answers and you are in no place to give them even if there were.

You both stand in silence watching leaves fall from the trees.

You hate what you’re about to say, but it’s your job to say it.  “I’m really sorry I have to ask this of you, but we need to finish filming the show.”  Her shoulders visibly slump.  “There’s only the reveal left, then we will be out of your way, and you can figure things out with Marcus.”

“You’re right,” she sighs.

“I’ll go find him and tell him that you’ll explain later.  You can take a few more minutes.”  She nods and you make your way back towards the house – and Marcus – with a knot in the pit of your stomach.

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

“Is there anything you can’t do, Joel Miller?” you tease as you push your empty plate away from you.  He met you at his door with a glass of chilled white wine before presenting you with a dinner of grilled chicken and angel hair pasta with tomatoes, basil, and parmesan cheese.  It was absolutely delicious and just what you needed after the tense afternoon on set.  “It’s really not fair that you can cook too.”

“I can make a few things, but I’m no chef,” he replies, blushing to the tips of his ears.  “I’m glad you liked it.”  He stands up from the table.  “Come watch the sunset with me.” He beckons you to follow him to the couch.

You sink down beside him and lean your back up against his broad frame with a sigh.  “What a day.  I just feel so sad for both of them.”

“I know.  Better now than later though,” Joel murmurs against your hair.

 “True.” The warmth of his body seeps through your blouse and you snuggle in closer to him.  The two of you sit in relaxed silence watching the sky turn orange and pink through the window.

“I know we had plans tonight, but I don’t want…”

“I am ok.  I promise,” you assure him.  “It was… difficult… watching them and reliving some of those memories, but I’m ok.  I am so much happier now.  And not just because of this,” you squeeze his thigh, “I was happy already.  You’re a bonus.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He nuzzles at your ear and drags his nose down the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.  He places a kiss at the juncture of your shoulder before kissing his way back up to your ear.

You moan and melt into him.  He seems determined to go slow, building your desire bit by bit, and you’re tempted to let him.  It’s definitely working.  But when he takes your earlobe between his teeth you snap – it’s too much.  Slow is overrated.  You spin yourself around and up onto his lap, straddling his thighs.

You swallow his sounds of protest as you take his mouth in a bruising kiss, panting when you finally come up for air.  You lift the hem of your shirt up over your head and toss it aside, revealing your favorite yellow lace bra.

“You’re… sunshine…” Joel breathes reverently, staring up at you with lust blown eyes, hands full of your ass.  You start unbuttoning his shirt.  “I said I wanted to take my time with you,” he argues as you spread the soft fabric wide, revealing his chest and stomach.

His body is strong from a lifetime of hard work.  Every muscle earned and used, not just for looks.  But my oh my does he look good.  The planes of his chest glow in the soft light filtering in through the window.  Beautiful.

“I know you did, but what about what I want to do with you?” you wink as you drag your fingernails down his smooth skin watching goosebumps rise in their wake.  He gasps as you scrape over his flat nipples.

You slide off his lap, onto the floor between his legs, and start unbuttoning his jeans.

“You… you don’t….” You quiet him with a look.  His chest rises and falls rapidly as he watches you free his thick, heavy cock.  You take him in your hand and stroke from base to tip, swirling a drop of precum over the head with your thumb.

You watch Joel watch your movements, jaw dropped and panting, and you smile with how good it feels to make him feel like this.

You follow the path of your hand with your tongue before taking him in your mouth as deep as you can.  Joel’s broken moans and curses spur you on.  Each drag of your mouth along his length stoking the fire of arousal burning in your belly.

You lose yourself in the desperate whimpers that escape his throat.

You feel powerful.

You are painfully turned on.

“Fuck… I… wait…”  Joel pulls you up, crushing your mouth to his in a desperate, messy kiss.  Tongues swirl, teeth bite.  He cups your jaw in his hands.

“Sweetheart… Sunshine… I could take you right here on this couch,” he pants.

“Why don’t you then?” you challenge him. He levels an assessing gaze at you.

“My back hurts,” he says seriously, and you dissolve into giggles.

“I’m sorry,” you say, trying to control yourself.  Joel’s eyes crinkle as he fights to keep a straight face.  “To be honest, my back probably wouldn’t like it either.  What are we going to do instead?”

“I’m taking you upstairs, laying you out on my bed, and having my way with you,” Joel rumbles.

Your laughter dies away as heat floods your core.  “Yes, please.”

Joel strides purposefully up the stairs, pulling you along behind him.  His bedroom is decorated in burnt oranges, dark greens, and reclaimed wood.  It’s distinctly him.

He unwraps you like a present, worshiping each newly exposed bit of skin, until he has you bare and spread out on his bed.  Just where he wants you.

The first swipe of his tongue through your folds has you levitating off the bed.  He soothes you back down with firm hands on your hips until the tension leaves your body and you melt into his ministrations.

It’s never felt quite like this before.

When you come, he stays with you, riding the waves of your pleasure with his tongue, until you are still and boneless.

The scrape of his beard on your skin brings you back to your body.  He hovers over you, filling your vision. Strong arms cage you in, pouty lips press to your sternum, tendons in his neck stretch as he positions himself between your legs.

“It’s been a long time,” you whisper as he notches his weeping cock at your entrance.

“For me too,” his dark eyes meet yours.

You nod and he presses inside slowly, deliciously.  He splits you open inch by inch and you stretch to welcome him.

He buries his head in your neck with a broken curse as he fully sheaths himself inside of you.

You run your fingers through his hair and down his shoulders and back, reveling in the power you feel holding this man in the cradle of your body.  You rock against him, and he begins to move with long, languid strokes.  Each ridge and vein dragging lusciously against your walls.

You meet his thrusts, pulling him deeper into you, chasing friction in the slippery place where your bodies meet.

You fall apart for him in a haze of sensation, and he follows after you with a stuttering moan.  You stay wrapped in each other, breathing each other in, as the moon rises outside the window.

You drift off only to be awakened by calloused fingers ghosting across your skin, a request whispered low in your ear, pleasure like you’ve never experienced soon coursing through your veins as you press your face into his cool sheets.

The sun rises with him curled around your back, cupping your breast in his warm hand, your top leg thrown over his as he buries himself in you.  He presses kisses to your shoulder blade as you whimper your way to yet another release.

Joel wasn’t kidding that he wanted time.

When you wake up to him offering you a mug of coffee as he sits on the side of the bed, the sun already high in the sky, you’re pretty sure you’ll give him all the time he wants.

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

A/N: This episode’s cameo comes to us from The Mentalist.

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#construction corner #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters

[lovelynim]

well watch it, young bean! since nu:carnival is in your list, i'll be bold enough to ask for lee!olivine OR lee!edmond + ler!eiden duet 🤨

of course, only if you want. as a fan i'll be glad to see any fic for a common fandom to which you put your golden hands 🤲

AHHH HI

I mean, it was a pleasure to write this after you dragged me down this rabbit hole. I ended up choosing Edmond because... what's better than wrecking a pride tsundere knight? Heheh, hope you enjoy it!

“Let go of me this instant.”

“Come on, I’m not asking for much, Edmond…” Eiden pouted, a mischievous grin on his face as he leaned his face a little closer to the Vice-Captain.

“I’m not going to repeat myself, you imbecile,” the man hissed, staring at the brunette with daggers in his eyes.

“Eh… so scary,” with a gentle move, Eiden made sure he had the knight’s hands pinned on the wall above his head before he continued to talk, smiling, “is it that hard? All I asked for was a smile.”

Edmond could feel the heat of embarrassment reach his face when he heard the other talk so freely and carelessly with him. The Vice-Captain, however, simply huffled and turned his face away. “You are not worth it, you scoundrel.”

Eiden clicked his tongue, acting like he was offended. “Right, let’s do it the hard way, then,” he said, making Edmond wide his eyes in panic. The knight turned his head back to the brunette, trying to figure what was that about.

“W-what do you mea- hngh..! A-ah, what a-are you dohoing?!” Before he could process what Eiden said, he felt a couple of fingers gently stroking his side. Panic slowly kicked in as the gently tinglish feeling slowly spread across his middle. His lips began to twitch as the urge to giggle became stronger and stronger, making Edmond stutter as he battled to keep his reactions low.

“What else, silly? Tickling you,” Eiden cooed shamelessly into the knight’s ear, moving his hand down to target his hip, using his thumb to massage the spot right over the bone. He noticed how much Edmond battled his grip, but it was all with no avail.

“Pehervert! T-tahahake- ah! Take yohohou hands a-away frohohom me!!” He protested, letting out an embarrassed laugh despite his efforts.

“Oh, please, all I want is to see your smile, Edmon… it can’t be that hard, can it?” The brunette chuckled, enjoying the other’s struggle while slowly moving his fingers up, gently wiggling them over Edmond’s ribs.

The layer of white clothing, much to the knight’s demise, wasn’t exactly protecting his skin from the tickling. He could feel each and every touch, all of them sending shivers through his body and a feeling that resulted in that shy and awkward laughter.

“I bet you must look even hotter than when you are angry, hehe…” The brunette teased, moving his hand a little faster and making the other choke with another fit of giggles.

As the barrier finally began to crack, Edmond threw his head back, pressing it against the wall. “StoHOHop t-this, you ihihidiohot!”

“There it is,” Eiden muttered, pleased. Moving his hand a little higher, he started to poke the knight’s ribs and pinch the spot from time to time. “See? I told you it wasn’t that hard ~”

“LeHEHehet mehEHe gohOHoh- a-ahaha, noOHOh mohohore!!” Edmond protested, trying to ignore Eiden’s words, but ending up with a blush on his face regardless of his attempts. Finally having his demands heard, the brunette released Edmond’s wrists from his hold and ceased the tickling.

However, that didn’t make Eiden step back or run away. While the knight was catching up his breath, he stood close to him, placing his arm against the wall to give him some support while he kept Edmond cornered.

“W-what is it now?” The knight hissed, frowning as he stared at Eiden.

“Oh, it’s nothing… I was just admiring how pretty you look when you are angry, Edmond, especially when you are blushing like this.”

That comment made a shiver run down Edmond’s back and an even stronger shade of red took place in his face. “I’ll cut you to ribbons, you insufferable-”

“Alright, alright, I get it, hehe ~” Eiden giggled, pushing himself away from the wall and letting the knight move away. “See you around, Vice-Captain.”

“Don’t talk to me!!” Edmond shouted, huffing as he started to walk away and cursing Eiden in his thoughts.

#300 followers #drabble event #milestone event #tickle fic #nu carnival #nu carnival eiden #nu carnival edmond #nu carnival tickling #eiden x edmond #lee!edmond #ticklish!edmond #ler!eiden

[novamariestark]

Echoes, Fragments & Puzzle Pieces [B.B] [3/?]

Overall Summary: You are a young woman, trying to live your life after captivity. You live in the shadows after escaping from an organisation known as The Syndicate, desperate to copy Hydra's work. You were to be their Winter Soldier but with added "bonuses". But, when opportunity knocks, will you answer it?

Summary: After breakfast, you go for a wander around the tower. When you get lost, you end up in the last place you'd want to be. A lab. But someone comes to help you

Warnings: slight mention of torture and abuse, mention of character death (Instead of Y/N I've put Lia, simply just to make it flow a bit better, but of course you can replace it with your name.)

Word count: 2316

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: eventual Bucky x reader

Part 1, Part 2

After breakfast, everyone started to do their own thing in the common area. You huddled up in a corner with a book you had found in your room. Conversations, clashing dishes, tapping keys and paper rustling all provided a soundtrack as you read.

Clint was cleaning the dishes, Steve was reading the paper, Bucky and Sam were bickering about their last run, Nat was tucked away in the corner, her laptop in front of her as she filled out the last mission report, rolling her eyes every so often at the two "grown men" bickering. And Thor was stuffing his face with pop tarts despite the fact he had just destroyed 19 pancakes.

After a while, you start to get a bit restless, so you decided to have a wander around the tower to calm your nerves. You left the dining room quietly, trying to go unnoticed but of course the spies noticed. There wasn’t a tiny detail they did miss. But they didn’t stop you.

As you stepped into the corridor, you couldn't help but admire the sleek and modern design of the place. It was like nothing you had ever seen before, with its high-tech gadgets and furnishings. It all felt a bit overwhelming.

You wandered through the hallways, taking turns left and right, with no particular destination in mind. The tower seemed like a maze to you, a complex jumble of corridors and rooms. Every hallway looked the same, and soon you found yourself to be lost. Again.

You walked past closed doors, each leading to different parts of the tower, but none of them seemed familiar. Your heart raced as you realized you didn't have a clear sense of where you were. The tower was so vast, and every corridor seemed to lead to another.

You stopped and took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You reminded yourself that this was a safe place.

Soon you come to a door. A door that’s different than the others. Your curiosity piqued and you found yourself walking towards it. Just like at the museum, you heard a sound. An alluring sound that beckoned you towards the door. You couldn't resist the mystery that lay beyond it. Your heart quickened with a blend of curiosity and eagerness as you approached, your hand reaching out to grasp the cold metal doorknob.

The door creaked open slowly, revealing a room bathed in the soft glow of fluorescent lights. Before you lay a chamber filled with advanced scientific equipment. Gleaming machines with displays and controls lining the walls, while screens flickered with data. The room buzzed with the hum of machinery, a symphony of technology in perfect harmony. Your breath caught in your throat as you realised what it was. A lab.

A shiver of unease washed over you. The familiarity of the atmosphere tugged at the corners of your mind, dredging up fragments of a past you had tried so hard to forget.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as the panic tightened her chest. Her eyes widened in sheer terror as your flashbacks raced through your mind. I have to get out of here you thought. You turned to make a quick exit, but you tripped on some wires and reached to grab the closest thing to you to save yourself from falling. A hospital bed.

Almost immediately, your powers were triggered. Another high-definition hologram began to play. This one more violent and closer to home. The scenes that played were ones of those that took place in a hospital looking bed. Experiments, pain, mind wipes. A whirlwind of the abuse you had endured during your time there. She cowered against the wall, trying to make herself smaller. "Please, don't hurt me," she gasped, her voice trembling with fear. Time seemed to slow down, making the seconds feel like hours. The cold, prickling sensation of goosebumps washed over his skin. The room felt like it was suffocating you, the darkness pressing in from all sides.

Unbeknownst to you, Friday, had alerted the Avengers to your use of powers. They all gathered round the screen to see what the unusual activity in the lab was. Their attention was immediately drawn to the holographic projection that played above the bed, filling the room with images that were both disturbing and heart-wrenching. The projection showed a series of scenes, as if they were peering into your past. They watched in stunned silence as the images unfolded before them. They saw a younger you, your face filled with fear and pain, strapped to a gurney with masked figures moving around you, conducting experiments that looked agonizing.

It was as if they were witnessing the darkest chapters of your life, a life filled with captivity, pain, and torture.

Steve clenched his fists, his jaw following suit. A low, almost inaudible growl escaped from Bucky's throat at the thought of someone hurting you like that. His metallic arm clenched into a fist, the joints creaking as memories of his own past flashed through his brain. Natasha's usually stoic expression wavered as sadness swimming in her eyes. The veins in Bruce's temples throbbed as he struggled to contain his own anger, fighting to keep the Hulk at bay.

They watched as you dropped to the floor, your knees to your chest, head buried in your knees. Hands pressed sharply against your ears as you try and block out the sound of your own screams. Soon the door opened gently, and you whimpered slightly, waiting, expecting pain. But it didn’t come.

“Lia?” a soft voice called. You heard gentle light footsteps and the sound of a body sitting on the floor beside you but still keeping a respectable distance, “Can you not stop it?”

You shook your head in your knees, “don’t know how,” barely heard as it’s muffled by your legs. You didn’t understand how this power worked. You had never been able to use it on command, it just happened.

“Do you want to go to your room?” she asked, “I can take you,”

You peered up slowly, not wanting to move quickly and startle her. You nodded and tried to stand, but your legs gave way. Without thinking you reach out to grab Wanda and it happens again. Only this time, it isn’t your painful memory that you project. It’s hers.

You tried to stand up, but your legs gave way beneath you, and you stumbled again. In your moment of weakness, you automatically grabbed onto Wanda. You powers surged once more, but this time, it was different. It wasn't your painful memories that played on the holographic projection; it was Wanda's.

You watched as a boy, about her age, with silver hair, zoomed around. He was fast.

Wanda's eyes widened as the images of her brother, Pietro, filled the room. She was forced to relive the painful memory of his death during the Battle of Sokovia. She could see Pietro running to save Hawkeye and a young boy, taking the bullets meant for them. The memory was vivid, and the pain was still fresh in her heart. Tears welled up in Wanda's eyes as she watched her brother fall, lifeless, unable to save him. The room seemed to darken as the projection continued, and the sound of the battle echoed in your ears.

As the hologram finally dissipated, A single tear trickled down Wanda’s cheek, leaving a wet trail in its wake.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, immediately removing your arm from her shoulder, your voice tinged with fear. You flinched, expecting Wanda to lash out at you.

Wanda's expression softens as she sees your face filled fear and guilt. Instead of anger, she offers a reassuring smile and hovers a hand over your shoulder, "It's not your fault," she says, her voice comforting, "It wasn't intentional. Let's get you back to your room, and we can talk if you want."

You nodded. You were curious about that place and the boy but it effected Wanda a lot and you didn’t want to ask questions about it.

But there was something strangely familiar about that place, like a distant memory that you couldn’t quite reach. Perhaps you had a mission there. Maybe you visited there on one of you many adventures. But whatever it was. You knew it.

You followed Wanda to your room and you were grateful because you had gotten completely lost. Somehow, you had ended up three floors above where your room was. As you walked, you started to forget about the projection of your past and just focused on the sound of your own footsteps.

You reached your room, your safe place. Wanda followed you inside, giving you some space, but also staying nearby in case you needed her. You sat down on your soft, white carpet, feeling its comforting texture under your fingers.

Wanda stopped in the middle of the room, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. She asked if you'd like her to stay on the other side of the room. A small, reassuring smile formed on your lips, and you gently tapped the spot in front of you. It was your way of telling her to come closer.

She hesitated for a moment but then slowly made her way over, settling herself on the floor in front of you, mirroring your position.

She glanced around your room, taking in the details with a warm smile. "Do you think you'll decorate it one day?"

You couldn't meet her gaze, so you looked down at your hands as they traced invisible shapes on the floor. Little did you know, Wanda had the power to read minds, and she had already sensed your hesitation and your fear that your time in the Avengers Tower might not last. "You don't want to get your hopes up?" she gently inquired, understanding your concerns without you having to say a word.

Your eyes shot up and widened in shock as she echoed the exact thought shooting through your mind, “H-how did you know that?”

“I can read minds,” she admitted.

Wanda had a genuine desire to connect with you on a deeper level, but she grappled with how to approach it. As far as she knew, you had no family, no knowledge of your birthplace, and a past that had been marked by captivity and trauma. She wanted to understand you better, but she also didn't want to bring up painful memories any more than they already had been.

So as an attempt to break the ice, she decided to tell you about the scene you showed earlier.

“That boy,” she started, a heavy breath leaving her lips as she tried to keep the tears at bay, “Was my brother,”

That revelation made you feel more guilty about it, “Wanda, I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay. Before I joined the Avengers, I never had anyone. Nothing mattered more than my brother. But then he died. And I was just... empty. The world felt so dark to me,” You didn't know what to say. You wished there was something you could do to make her feel better. But just listening, and being there for her, was enough. You both sat in silence for a few moments, until you finally spoke. “What was his name?”

Wanda smiled, “His name was Pietro.”

Over the next hour, Wanda told you loads of stories about her childhood and all the things her and Pietro got up to. From pranking each other to building blanket forts. Your personal favourite was when they came up with their own language to communicate with the neighbour’s dog, only to leave the poor thing utterly confused. She told you about her family, her parents and what happened. She spoke about how she’s sort of forgiven Tony for his role, but it took her a while to get there.

As Wanda shared her stories, you felt an unexpected warmth spread through you. Listening to the stories of Wanda and Pietro, began to chip away at the fortress that had long surrounded your trust. It was an unusual feeling for you, one you had not encountered in years, perhaps ever.

In this moment, a unique bond seemed to form, and you found yourself strangely at ease in Wanda's presence. The walls that you had meticulously constructed over the years slowly began to crumble, revealing the possibility of a friendship. This was your chance to build your first genuine friendship, a possibility that both excited and frightened you.

Your life had taught you the harsh lesson of mistrust, a lesson forged during your time with The Syndicate. Consequently, you were often reserved, cautious, and distant. Your timid nature often led to flinches and startles whenever someone accidentally touched you or spoke up suddenly. And yet, Wanda's presence was different, offering a glimmer of hope in the shadows of your past.

Wanda’s openness about her past made you feel closer to her. Talking to her is easy. Easier than anything had been for you in years. It’s been so long since you felt comfortable around someone so quickly or at all. Usually by now, the conversation would have ended before it even began. Wanda noticed that you were becoming more relaxed and open with each passing moment. She could sense your thoughts, and it was clear that you were beginning to trust her, even if only a little. It was a significant step for you.

As the room settled into a comfortable silence, you debated whether to share something about yourself. You had listened to Wanda's stories, and it felt only fair to reciprocate. But what could you reveal? The events of your past were shrouded in mystery, and your current lack of memory made it all the more challenging to open up.

However, you found the courage to voice a small doubt that had been weighing on you.

“I don’t know my name,”

Taglist: @mrsevans90 @harrysluvv @vicmc624

Songs I played for this chapter

#reader insert #female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #avengers x reader #the avengers #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #Spotify

[8-rae-rae-8]

Omgomg let me just say thank you SSSSO MUCH for writing agere for this fandom. Your writing is so good 💗💗💗💗

If you take requests, is it okay if we can have Roach who regresses? Anyone from 141 of your choice could be his caregiver, thank you <3333

I give to you

Sleepy GazRoach

801 words

Roach really had no idea what he was doing as he stood in front of one of the other Sargeant’s doors. A blanket around his shoulders, a pacifier hanging by a pacifier clip on his shirt.

It was early in the morning. Far, far too early for him. Especially when he was so small, Gary usually slept in when he regressed. One of the few reasons the others didn't wake him unless necessary. The other reason being that he bit when he was touched in his sleep when he hadn't fallen asleep in bed with anyone else.

Gary rubbed his tired eyes, looking up at the small name plate on the door.

[Sgt. Kyle Garrick]

There was no hesitation as he turned the door handle. He was still sleepy, but just wanted Kyle cuddles. It wasn't often that Roach sought out someone specific, but it was usually Kyle or Price when he did.

The door creaked open painfully loud.

Gary flinched as he stepped in. A small night light was present in the corner of the room, giving enough light for him to see where he was going. It was a bit of a mess, honestly. The room had some clothes thrown about, but every surface other than the floor was pristine.

He stepped forward to the bed, where Kyle was sleeping peacefully. Gary sort of admired the way he slept, every part of him relaxed. Maybe even a little jealous of how he seemed so comfortable on the crappy mattress.

The pacifier was placed in his mouth, soothing the nerves. He worried that he'd bother Kyle for asking for cuddles so late.. All of them said to wake them if he needed anything, but he was scared each time.

Slowly, he reached forward. His hand grasped the fabric of Kyle's shirt, and lightly tugged at it. Gary kept a careful eye on his face.

Kyle didn't wake up the easiest, but upon seeing the little one immediately after his eyes opened, he shuffled back on the bed a little. Sleep in his tired eyes. He patted the bed next to him to signal for Gary to come lay with him.

“Cmere, mate…” Kyle murmured.

But Gary hesitated again. He blinked as he watched Kyle, almost confused that he didn't react poorly to being woken up.

“It's late, bug.. come here.” Kyle's arms laid out for him to cuddle into.

It was too hard to resist, really. The blanket around Roach's shoulders was quickly discarded. He got himself in the bed right next to him.

The two laid on their sides, Gary tucked up to his chest as he relaxed.

Kyle's hand softly stroked from Gary's hair to his back, a similar motion to one used for petting cats. He set a slow pace, simply holding Gary with his other arm.

“Couldn't sleep?” He muttered, voice rough with tiredness.

He received a small nod and a huff in return. Gary cuddled up to him closer. One of his arms moved to rest over Kyle's side to hold him close too.

“That's okay… I'm here.” Kyle said while mid-yawn.

Roach curled up as small as he possibly could, which was pretty small, while still remaining cuddled up.

“You're so little…” He whispered. His eyelids fighting the sleepiness that demanded more rest. For now, Gary was much more important. Especially looking at his adorable little face.

Gary smiled behind his pacifier, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He gave a little hum as he looked up at Kyle.

Gary was one of the few that loved decorated pacis. Gems, pearls, charms. Shiny things made his brain go on excited hyperdrive mode. He specifically liked bells on pacis, because shaking his head made a fun sound. A good sound that he linked with happiness and being small.

A calloused hand softly brushed over his cheek, settling into a soft motion of Kyle's thumb brushing over his cheek while he cupped his cheek. Just soft and gentle touch. Gary couldn't help but nuzzle against it.

“Yeah… you just needed Kyle cuddles, hm?” Kyle quietly spoke, getting a nod in return.

“Do you need anything else, bug?” A head shake in response.

Roach was settled and cozy up to Kyle, it was just what he needed to get comfortable.

“I'll be here if you need anything then, don't you worry…” Kyle was sleepy still, but determined to be there for Gary.

Determination wasn't quite enough to keep Kyle awake, but he was still right there with him. Snores filling the otherwise quiet room. But Gary remained awake, just happily cuddled up to the other. Warm and cozy.

He was perfectly content to stay awake, more than comfortable enough just next to Kyle to relax. And if he ended up needing something, he could simply wake Kyle.

#cod agere #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gary roach sanderson #gary sanderson #call of duty #cod #anon asks

[demonicbaby666]

It’s Always Been You

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Pairing: Emma Swan x Regina Mills

Genre: Smut, fluff and a bit of angst (not too much though)

Words: 4.9k+

Summary: Regina and Emma have had an interesting relationship over the past few years, one that they don’t often talk about and have left only to memories. But before her wedding, Emma’s thoughts become too loud, and the past makes an appearance.

A/n: Not beta read so I apologise if there are any mistakes! There was going to be one additional flashback that I lacked the motivation for… but I’m interested to know if anyone will be able to figure out where ;)

Emma sits in front of the vanity, eyes raking over her barely furnished room from behind her in the mirror. It feels empty, hollow.

Her whole life, she has dreamt of having her own home and a family, both of which she’s acquired. So for her life, she can’t understand why it doesn’t feel right. Ever since she could remember, she’d run away at the first of danger; often finding it around every corner meant she’d never had a place to call her own. It makes sense that the feeling of finally settling down should be comforting. Instead, it feels suffocating, foreign in the worst of ways, and far too final.

Flickering her eyes back to her reflection, she looks at her freshly applied makeup; it’s more than she regularly wears or has ever worn. But the occasion calls for it. After all, it is her wedding day, and Ruby insisted on ‘dolling her up.’ Though when Emma sees herself, dare she say it, it may have been too much ‘dolling up.’

“What do you think?” The brunette asks, admiring her work.

“Ummm, well, it’s,” Emma stammers over her words, thinking how best to break the news to Ruby, “It’s-”

“Oh dear god,” Regina screeches from the doorway. Both younger women turn their heads, watching Regina move toward where they are sitting. She studies Emma’s face, making no effort to hide her grimace, “What have you done to her? She looks like she’s about to perform at a drag show, not walk down the aisle.”

Emma tries not to cringe at the older woman’s harsh tone, failing miserably when she sees Ruby roll her eyes and walk off. Of course, she won’t admit it, but she’s grateful for the fact she doesn’t have to be one to tell Ruby she’d put a little too much of her own spin on the bridal look.

“May I?” Regina gestures to the stool next to Emma.

“Sure. Could you pass me the wipes? They should be in the first draw.” Emma takes a deep breath, hoping to alleviate some of her nerves on the exhale.

Reaching out, Regina opens the drawer and pulls out the wipes, ready to hand them over until she sees the shaky hand that is held out to receive them. She carefully places the wipes on the vanity instead, earning a confused look from Emma.

“Allow me?” Regina offers, taking a wipe out and bringing it to the thick layer of foundation lying over Emma’s cheek.

Instantly the younger woman relaxes, closing her eyes and relishing the feel of cold against her flushed face. It’s an added bonus that now and then, Regina’s soft fingers are brushing against her skin, and Emma lets herself lean into them. She allows herself to get lost in distant memories.

Regina had gone below deck. She didn’t want anyone to see her in her current state, which - put nicely - was a complete wreck. She’d just lost the one person she’d promised herself she’d always protect, Henry.

“We’re going to get him back,” Emma said, walking in, trying to reassure the nervously fidgeting brunette.

Regina quickly looked up to see Emma walking towards her on the bed. She fixed her posture and cloaked her worries behind her trusty emotionless mask, “I know we are.” she snapped.

“Do you ever let anyone see the other side of you?” Emma asked as she sat down next to Regina, ignoring the look she received in response.

“Care to elaborate on what you mean by ‘other side,’ Miss Swan?”

Emma raised her hands, sensing from Regina’s death glare she was hitting a nerve, “What I mean is, the softer side, the vulnerable side of you that you spent years trying to bury. Others might buy the stone-cold act, but you can’t fool me.”

“And why do you think you know me so well, Miss Swan?” Regina asked, burying her newfound vulnerability behind a look of disgust.

“Stop with the Miss Swan.”

“Or what, Miss S-”

Frustration got the best of her, and in the blink of an eye, Emma had Regina pinned down on the bed, pushing the older woman’s wrists into the mattress on either side of her head. She stayed still for a few seconds, not entirely understanding what had come over her.

In the time spent staring, Emma studied Regina’s features. The little crease that formed between her eyebrows, that were now furrowed, and her chestnut eyes - which held an abundance of unspoken secrets and fears - that were wide open. Emma swore she saw a tinge of curiosity within them alongside the apparent shock. Regina’s lips were parted ever so slightly as she took in rushed but tiny breaths, and before Emma even thought she could pull away, those very lips trapped her in a trance-like state.

Realising kissing the human version of a brick wall may be unappealing, Emma moved her lips in rhythm with Regina’s, and what started as obligatory reciprocation turned into voluntary instigation. Emma’s hands roamed Regina’s arms, her nails clawing ever so slightly into supple skin in retaliation to Regina capturing her bottom lip between her teeth.

Neither knew who broke away first, too breathless to contemplate or care. They stared at one another, mouths agape as the realisation of what they’d just done dawned on them. Emma thought for sure she’d fucked up. There was no way they could make amends after this or even look one another in the eye. Then Regina did something unexpected. She fluttered her eyes shut, wrapped her arms around Emma’s neck, and anchored her back down.

Emma let it happen. She didn’t know why. In fact, she didn’t even want to know why. All she knew and felt were soft plum lips, and she willingly yielded to their power. The kiss quickly grew more and more fierce. With Regina’s hands around her neck, pulling her closer and closer, Emma finally let go. She pressed her body against Regina’s, relishing in the small moan from the brunette as their clothed breasts pressed against one another.

Regina knew she should stop. She knew what they were doing was wrong and inappropriate. Emma’s whole family was right above them, for god's sake. But it was hopeless. Her hands had a mind of their own, latching onto Emma’s soft curls and accepting her eager tongue into her mouth. Once the exploration took place, hearing the blonde moan into her mouth as she tasted her for the first time, all hopes of turning back were crushed.

From that moment on, both women were overtaken by desire. Their hands were all over each other. Emma’s knee nestled between Regina’s legs, which Regina instantly appreciated, grinding against it to relieve herself of the growing tension. It wasn’t enough. She needed more. And something told her Emma wouldn’t have a problem delivering.

Emma’s lips travelled down Regina’s jawline before reaching her neck and sucking over her pulse point, smiling at the small moan Regina let out. She ran her tongue over the bruised patch of skin while her hand snaked under the brunette's shirt, cupping and kneading her breasts.

Unbuttoning the silk shirt, Emma trailed a path of kisses further down Regina’s body, down to her black bra. Her fingers danced over the newly exposed skin, imprinting the feel of the toned flesh into her mind, not knowing if this would not only be the first but also the last time she’d have the pleasure.

They were limited on time, which meant there wasn’t much wriggle room for gracefully undressing each other, “Can you… ummm…” Emma sat up and looked down at Regina’s trousers as she began fiddling with her own.

Regina smirked and waved her hand. The sudden shiver that ran down Emma’s spine alerted her to the missing jeans she’d previously been trying to take off. When she looked down, she noticed Regina's clothes were no longer present, along with her own.

Emma went straight to work. She lowered herself back down, laying atop Regina and kissing her once more. Her tongue quickly slipped into the parted, plump lips, and she explored the hot, wet cavern until she had to come back up for air. Emma was privy to Regina’s slick arousal on her thigh, and the moment her lips made contact with the older woman’s neck, she felt her wetness glide over the expanse of her thigh.

At this point, the brunette was a mess, grinding down helplessly on Emma’s thigh, searching for friction, holding blonde locks tight as Emma moved southwards to her breasts. She let out a whimper when Emma finally took a pert nipple into her mouth, sucking and nibbling mercilessly. She used her other hand to cup the neglected breast, squeezing it in pulses before pinching Regina’s nipple between her fingers.

Emma didn’t know when she stopped thinking, let herself become overtaken by the thralls of passion, or when all thoughts of what she was doing became unimportant. But then again, she didn’t seem to care, not when there was a pair of perfectly toned legs wrapped around her head, and soft mewls came from above her. So, she fell back into a rhythm, rejecting the rigidity that tried to coax her body into feeling guilty, and she re-focussed her energies on pleasing the goddess who was letting her body be worshipped.

Before long, Regina’s climax was cresting. Quieted moans had grown into unrelenting cries of pleasure, and her sorry attempts at silencing them with her hand were woefully unsuccessful. Emma didn’t mind. She’d come to realise they may be her new favourite sound, a song she’d replay in her mind night after night alone in her room, where no one could judge her and where no one could see how her body reacted to the sweet melody of moans accompanied by soft waves crashing outside, the taste of the salted sea and Regina still dancing on her tongue months later.

Her tongue moved more ferociously, and instantly she saw Regina topple over the edge. Her chest rose towards the water-stained ceiling, the grip on her hair tightened almost painfully, and the firm legs around her head trembled with each stroke of her tongue over the brunette’s spent clit. After a few more seconds, Regina shimmied away, tugging lightly on Emma’s blonde locks.

“Stop.” She shakily breathed out.

Emma didn’t want to. She’d just discovered her true purpose in life, and she swore if she were denied the right to pry those sounds from Regina one more time in the next few minutes, she’d go crazy.

She took the risk and pulled away, crawling back up Regina’s body with speed and determination. Emma brought her lips back down to Regina’s, smiling as the brunette was temporarily distracted by the taste of herself on Emma. And that’s when she struck. She quickly slid two fingers into the older woman’s sex, coming back to life when she heard familiar sounds spill from Regina.

“Oh god,” she groaned, “Yes, Emma, like that.”

Emma suddenly understood what it felt like to be an addict, to be painfully aware that no matter how much of something you got, it would never be enough. She also knew that she’d take what she was given and, right now, happily accepted that she was given the opportunity to be greedy.

To graciously thank Regina, she thrust her fingers into the brunette's tight walls faster, curling them each time to hit the particular spot previous lovers neglected. Chants of yes’s, followed by obscenities Emma had never thought she'd hear from Regina, gave the younger woman some idea that she was on the right track to giving Regina her second orgasm.

When Regina brought her hands to Emma’s back, scratching the surface of her porcelain skin with ten scarlet lines, Emma lost it. Her fingers moved with vigour and one single purpose. Her lips ravished Regina’s neck with reckless abandon, leaving in their wake angry plum blotches. She didn’t care. She wanted one thing. They both wanted one thing.

And that’s when Regina’s vision went black, and the world around her faded. The only thing she knew, the only thing she wanted to know, was Emma’s lips on her, Emma’s hands on her, Emma’s sweaty skin on her.

They never brought up what happened that day. Not when Regina caught the looks between Emma and Hook, not when they found Henry, not when for a few seconds, it seemed like just the three of them against the world, and not when they returned to Storybrooke and Regina felt the loneliness creep back up and return to her.

Emma expects the absence of chatter to allow the voices in her head to intensify and engulf her once more, yet, here with Regina, the silence is comfortable and easy to enjoy. It’s the calm she has been looking for. That’s until her mother enters the room sometime later, puffy-eyed from the last few hours spent crying.

“I saw Ruby leave. Everything okay?”

By this point, Emma’s makeup is finished. It’s elegant and simple. Her cheekbones are accentuated, the green of her eyes shining in contrast to the red lipstick that paints her smile as she looks in the mirror (much happier and calmer than the last time she gazed into it).

“Emma…” Snow’s bottom lip wobbles as a fresh set of tears glint in her eyes, “You look beautiful.”

“Don’t start. You’ll set her off too.” Regina half-jokingly says to the brunette.

“I can’t help it.” Snow defends, “You’ll understand when Henry gets married or Emma if you have a daughter of your own, you’ll be crying just as much as I have been.”

Regina doesn’t even need to turn back to Emma to feel her tense at the mention of children. The sanctity has been broken, all thoughts return, and Emma is thrown head-first into a full-blown panic attack. Her breathing becomes unsteady, and tears well in her eyes. Her eyes are helplessly darting around the empty room, trying to find something, anything, to anchor her back to reality. It’s useless. She knows it as her hands start to tremor, and her knee begins bouncing up and down.

She looks to the one person she knows she can rely on, “Regina, get me out of here.”

Regina snaps her head back to Emma, “What?”

“Please.” She begs.

Looking into her watery eyes, Regina’s heart drops to her stomach. There is so much fear and heartache dancing around in Emma’s pleading eyes; all she wants to do is take the blonde into her arms, soothe her, and battle her demons for her. So she does the only thing she can. She poofs herself and Emma to the one place she always finds solace, her vault.

Purple smoke engulfs them, leaving Snow sitting alone on the bed, staring in disbelief at the two empty seats.

“Thank you,” Emma sits on a nearby trunk.

“Are you okay?” Regina asks, shifting her weight from foot to foot, not knowing whether it would be best to embrace Emma - as much as she wants to.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I just needed to get away, have a few moments to breathe alone before,” she swallows the lump in her throat, “before the wedding.”

Alone. Regina kicks herself. Emma had asked to get her out of the house, not to keep her company, “I can go.” She says quickly, turning to leave.

Fingers curl around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks and guiding her to turn back around.

“No, stay. Please.”

Looking down, Regina reunites with pleading green orbs, and just as before, she folds. In the low sombre light scattered candles provide, Emma seems so small, young, and vulnerable, and Regina can’t, no, she won’t leave her. If someone held a knife to her throat, she’d have sooner torn their heart clean from their chest before abandoning Emma.

Without knowing what she’s doing, Regina surges forward, crashing her body against Emma’s, pulling her into an unexpected embrace. Greeted pleasantly by slender arms wrapping around her neck, holding her close and in place, she breathes out in relief.

Silence falls over the vault. Light breathing comes from both women being the only sound. Regina traces small circles over Emma’s back, lulling her, feeling the blonde’s chest rise and fall against hers.

She slowly lowers herself onto the trunk, trying to avoid breaking the hug, though it’s unlikely to happen with Emma’s unyielding grip on her. Neither wants to let go; it would seem. It was under different circumstances they’d last shared such close contact. Pulling away means parting with memories - soft moans, sweat-clad bodies, a kind of intimacy they’d found with one another and no one else - that swirl around their conjoined bodies.

“I’ll stay. I promise.” Regina whispers.

And Emma believes her.

“My superpower may not be perfect, but with you, Regina, I can always tell when you’re lying.” Emma triumphantly stated.

Maybe it was the slight smile the younger woman offered or the unmissable adoration in her tone, but Regina couldn’t be annoyed. If it were anyone else stating, quite proudly, she’d lost the power to deceive them, she probably would not be smiling like an idiot in love. That was unimportant, though. And why was that? Because Emma was staring at her, and she was staring at Emma, and they both had that look in their eyes, which meant one thing and one thing alone.

“Even though you know I can’t live without him?”

“There you go, telling the truth again.”

“I missed both of you.” Regina spilt out, caught up in the moment.

Emma smiled, “Another truth.”

The brunette tried not to let her smile falter. Emma didn’t remember her in New York, so how could she miss her?

But then the blonde was up on her feet, sauntering over to her with a gentle yet playful smile on her lips, and her eyes softened, “I missed you too.”

There was no hiding the beam that fell over Regina’s face. Her smile shone brighter, and if she hadn’t turned away, Emma would have caught the faint blush emerging on her cheeks. Gentle fingers under her chin guided her back, and who was she to deny them? Watching Emma lick her lips, she no longer cared how noticeable her flushed cheeks were.

When the younger woman looked down at Regina, her stomach flipped. How the town still managed to think her capable of evil completely bewildered her, she knew Regina would never outwardly admit it, but she saw how it affected her. It only made what she did next much more effortless, telling herself it was their way of comforting each other.

Emma leaned down and kissed her, slowly at first. She kept her caresses light and her lips languid. When Regina wrapped her arms around Emma’s neck, she moved her hands down Regina’s body and cupped her ass, guiding her thighs closer to her waist.

With one content hum from Regina and a smile on her lips, Emma pulled Regina so she was sitting on the edge of her desk. She moved her hands under her dress and traced small circles over bare olive skin, working higher and higher up her thighs.

Regina shivered but didn’t dare pull away. The sigh she let out had little to no bite to it when her body was slowly responding the way it always did when Emma was this close. Her pulse was only getting faster in tandem with the speed and intensity of the kiss. Emma wanted one thing, and it was all too clear to Regina what that was.

By this time, Regina’s dress has practically ridden up to her hips, giving Emma plenty of room. She ran her tongue over Regina’s bottom lip, then sucked it into her mouth as one hand moved to hold the brunette's waist, and the other slid her wet panties to the side.

She used her fingers to part Regina’s delicate folds, dipping them temporarily into her entrance to gather some of the pooling arousal and distribute it over her twitching clit.

“Emma.” Regina breathed softly, and Emma would never tire of hearing her name tumble out of her mouth like that.

Svelte fingers kept working in tight circles until Regina’s hands gripped Emma’s shoulders. She lost all control over her body and mind, whining and whimpering as her ex-nemesis continued to carry her closer and closer over the edge.

Her breath was coming out ragged, and she couldn’t even think, so instead she focused Emma kissing and sucking on her neck and how the blonde was increasing the speed of her movements.

“Emma,” there it was again. This time more desperate, and Emma felt her underwear get further soaked by her own rising desire.

“I know.” Emma hushed.

That afternoon was about creating a potion to remember, but first, they helped each other forget. Forget the son that had forgotten them, forget the man that had kissed and brought them back to Storybrooke, forget the past and present that onslaught havoc on their every waking, every breathing, every godforsaken minute of their existences.

They forgot together.

It’s with great disdain, towards herself, Regina pulls back, feeling herself getting mixed up in what had already come to pass. “Want to talk about it?” She offers, placing her hands in her lap and fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of her dress.

“Not sober.” Emma lightheartedly chuckles, “You’ve got to have something in here.”

“Seriously, Emma. It’s one of the most important days of your life, and you want to get drunk.”

Despite the teasing, Regina stands up, walking over to where she keeps a bottle of liquor. She pours a generous helping into two glasses - she, too, would benefit from some of the stuff - then returns to her makeshift seat and unknowingly hands Emma the liquid courage she needs for what she is about to ask.

Taking what could be considered an overindulgent gulp, Emma shivers as the alcohol burns down her throat, settling when the liquid reaches and warms her stomach.

“Regina, what happened?” She speaks so softly that the question would have gone unnoticed had it not been for the fact Regina is already on high alert.

“What do you mean?” In truth, she knows what Emma’s alluding to, but if there is a slim chance she’s wrong or can avoid the conversation as a whole, she’ll take it.

“Between us,” Emma replies, watching the brunette closely, noticing how she suddenly becomes stiff and unnerved, “I thought we had something.”

The sadness in Emma’s voice throws Regina. Reminding herself that it is, in fact, Emma’s wedding day and bringing up this topic of conversation probably won’t have a terrific outcome, Regina makes another effort to dismiss the question, “Emma, do you want to do this now?”

Where a slight pout is forming on Emma’s face, a scowl takes its place, “Yes, I do.”

“It was a silly mistake that we kept up for far too long. Robin and Hook came along, and we ended it. That’s all there is to it, Emma. I thought we agreed on that?”

“Really, Regina? What we did, what we had. You know it wasn’t just a silly mistake.”

Though it pains Regina, she knows she needs this conversation to end, and for that to happen, she needs to stand her ground, “Emma, it was purely physical. We both knew that.”

“It was never just physical, and you know that. The first day I saw you, everything shifted, not just because of the curse and Henry but because I felt this pull. It was intoxicating. Feuding with you was exhausting yet addictive; I woke up waiting and anticipating your next move every morning. You were all I thought about. God, Regina, that day you came charging at me in your backyard, do you remember?”

“When you mutilated my beloved apple tree? Yes, I remember it quite vividly, Miss Swan.”

“Don’t Miss Swan me,” Emma sasses, but when she turns, she sees the sides of Regina’s lips twitch, a sign she’s indeed used the name not as an insult or a warning but as a way to lighten the mood, and maybe, just maybe, as a term of endearment. It’s refreshing. The name that was once used to instil the fear of god into her now makes her smile and reminisce over a time so different from the one she is now living. A small smile of her own comes to light, and she happily lets it as she continues, “I didn't know whether you were going to kill me or kiss me. I miss that feeling, and I don’t think I’d ever felt more alive than when I was with you.” she pauses, “Then when I’m with you.”

“It wouldn’t have worked out, Emma.” Regina defeatedly sighs.

“How can you say that? We never tried.”

“Because what we started, it was an outlet. It wasn’t real. We found that with other people.”

“Robin isn’t here anymore.” Emma is walking on eggshells here, and she knows it the moment Robin's name leaves her mouth. In fairness, it isn’t the best thing to bring up. That doesn’t matter, though, because it’s still the truth.

“But Hook is. You’ll meet him at the end of an aisle in an hour and start a life together.”

“I don’t want him.” Emma hurriedly spills out, “It’s always been you.”

Now that is one hell of a comeback that neither expects. The words fall out without a second thought, leaving them both speechless for ten seconds.

They sit staring for what seems to be an eternity, letting the confession dangle in the silence until Emma takes it upon herself to shuffle closer to Regina, never breaking eye contact.

“Emma, we can’t do this,” Regina whispers, helplessly trying to hold herself back from pulling Emma against her. It’s all she wants, and she’d be a fool to try and deny it.

Alluring is how Regina would describe Emma’s eyes, the shade of absinthe, and in truth, they, too, were intoxicating, flooding her bloodstream with a sudden disregard for caution and a yearning to be bold, to be reckless, to give in to desire.

“Tell me you didn’t feel anything for me, and I'll stop.” There are only a few inches between the two, and Regina’s mind is too occupied with Emma’s lips and how her hot breath is hitting her lips, and Emma’s lips, and Emma’s lips and Emma’s lips. She can’t answer even if she consciously tries to, which she’s given up on doing.

“You can’t,” Emma mutters, lips ghosting over Regina’s, “because you felt it too.”

Their lips meld together as they always have. Everything happens so quickly. One second there’s space between them, and then it is gone. The only thing Regina knows is there’s a pair of hands gripping her waist for dear life.

Her heart is saying yes and telling her to enjoy what could be their last kiss, but her mind is indifferent. In essence, she doesn’t know what to do.

Logic prevails, as it does most of the time, forcing her to pull away preemptively. “Emma, stop. We’re just going to end up hurting each other.” needing to put space between herself and the blonde who holds so much power over her, Regina stands up and walks over to her mirror, “Everyone I’ve ever been with, they’re gone. It’s like a curse befalls anyone I love. I can’t lose you. Hook makes you happy. That has to be enough.”

How the brunette manages to exert so much willpower, Emma doesn’t know. Then again, impulse control has never really been her thing, which is why she’s struggling with how not to grab Regina and reconnect their lips. She settles for walking over and placing a hand on Regina’s hip.

“Regina, look at me.” She guides Regina towards her. When their eyes meet, she isn’t oblivious to the welling of tears that have gathered, and it pains her to think she’s responsible, “Everyone I’ve ever been with, Graham, Neal, heck Walsh, they’re gone. I’m scared, I was scared. Regina, I care about you. Most of the time, I feel like you’re the only person who gets me, who truly understands me.”

“Emma,” she knows where this is leading, and there’s no coming back once there, “don’t.”

“I love you. I always have.”

Regina could burst out into tears at the certainty in Emma’s voice, how smoothly the words leave her, and at that moment, she falls harder than she’s ever thought possible.

“I love you too.”

When the crack in her throat and the stinging behind her eyes give way to a stream of tears, Emma moves forward, eclipsing the minimal space between two desperate pairs of lips. Emma’s hands fall to the small of Regina’s waist, pulling her impossibly closer to her, while Regina wraps her hands around Emma’s neck. The moment she feels Regina’s lips again sparks burst to life all over her body, sending her into overdrive. She’s drunk. Not on the unfinished liquor sitting forgotten to the side, but on the endorphins that spring to life at finding out the feelings she thought were unrequited are anything but.

“Do you want to do this?” Emma mumbles against Regina’s lips.

Regina lightly kisses Emma before gently pulling away, “This?”

Fearing what she’s asking would be too loud, Emma whispers, “Us?”

“I can’t lose you,” Regina cups the blonde’s face with both hands and runs her fingers over the soft, delicate skin, prompting Emma to hold her tighter.

“Then keep me close, and I promise you, you never will.”

“Okay.” And she seals that promise with a kiss.

#swanqueen #Emma swan #Regina mills #once upon a time #OUAT #swanqueen fanfiction

[pxnsneverland]

Autumn Roses | Young Ian x OC (part 2)

plot summary: As a half black half white slave in colonial North Carolina, Rose has struggled with her place in the world. After her mother's death in childbirth and finding out that the recently deceased River Run plantation master was her father, the mistress of River Run, Jocasta Cameron, took her in treating her as more of a daughter than a slave. Jocasta educated and raised Rose with no one outside the house ever being the wiser. But the arrival of Jocasta's nephew Jamie Fraser and his wife Clare threaten to turn Rose's world upside down especially when they bring along their bright haired, blue eyed nephew Ian Murray.

Part 1

pairings: Young Ian x OC

fandom: Outlander

word count: 1426

warnings/notes: Hey guys! I know it's been forever since updating this fanfic and I almost shelved it but I decided to write a few more parts and see how it goes. Hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 2

We all sat in the parlor in silence after Mistress Cameron explained everything to her family. I held my breath waiting for the storm I was sure was about to come. Mistress Cameron guided us to a sitting room adorned with plush velvet chairs and intricately woven tapestries that told stories of battles fought and loves lost. We gathered around a crackling fire, its flames casting a comforting warmth upon us all.

Seated in a high-backed chair, Mistress Jocasta fixed her gaze upon each of us in turn, her expression grave yet resolute. "There are secrets buried deep within these walls," she began, her voice tinged with a hint of sorrow. "Secrets I’ve been keeping for decades, I’m afraid. Rose is my late husband’s bastard.” She stole a glance at me as if it pained her to say the word. “I was furious at first, ashamed even. But her mother died and she was such a sweet child and I had lost my own daughter years ago, ye see…” Mistress Jocasta swallowed the clear lump in her throat. She dabbed unshed tears from her glassy eyes.

Claire put a hand on Jocasta’s shoulder bending down so she could smile at her with the sweetest expression. “It’s very admirable what you have done for Rose.”

“And never mind nothin’, Auntie.” Jamie tipped his head towards her. “We will keep your secret during our time at River Run. After all, Rose is family.” He smiled at me and I felt a warmth in my heart I didn’t quite know what to make of.

To not have to hide and duck around corners for the months Jamie, Claire and Ian were visiting was a relief. I watched the scene unfold before me, a whirlwind of emotions churning within my chest. My mind struggled to process the weight of it all. Jamie and Claire's unwavering support only added to the mix of gratitude and confusion swirling inside me.

As the fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows around the room, I felt a sense of belonging I hadn't experienced before. To be acknowledged and accepted by these newfound relatives was both overwhelming and comforting in equal measure. Ian, ever the kind soul, reached out a hand to squeeze mine in silent solidarity. His gesture left me blushing and I quickly pulled my hand away from his. I tried to smile to show him I was grateful, just hesitant, but I don’t know how well I did. Even as I tried not to look at him, I could feel his eyes still on me. My heart was beating so loud I was sure the whole room could hear it.

“Ye’re a true Mackenzie no doubt,” he said with a slight smile, “Always gettin’ into trouble for the sake of others.”

Claire placed a hand over her heart, seeming warmed by the news. “In this day and age, with how people feel about slaves, especially the mixed children being produced…I admire you.”

Mistress Cameron let out a relieved sigh. “Well, I am glad of that. I would much rather have ye sayin’ here without lookin’ at me with contempt everyday.” 

“We’re in no place to judge, Auntie,” Ian said, “What people around here think about slaves and the Indians are no different than what the English think about Scots. After all, look at what happened on the river wit’ us bein’ mugged.”

Jocasta smiled, nodding her approval of the young lad. Even I had to crack a smile. When the mugging was mentioned I was suddenly over concerned. “Mugged.”

“Aye,” Jamie confirmed from his place by the window, a china tea cup in his hands. “Mugged by a criminal I helped escape the noose. Thought I was doin’ him a kindness, trustin’ my gut. They stole our coin and gem stone. Left us with little more than the clothes on our back.”

Jocasta huffed. “Wicked! Just wicked. To repay your kindness in such fashion. Bonnet and his men should be hangit.”

“He woulda been were it not for me.”

“You sought the goodness in him, and there was none to be found.” I felt bad for Jamie for I could see the turmoil in his eyes from his decision. Regardless, I admired him for it. Being able to see the good where others saw none was a habit of mine as well. And I had equal reason as Jamie not to trust the masses.

“Pray think on it no more,” Jocasta continued in her quest to calm Jamie’s worries, “Ye’re welcome to stay here as long as ye need.”

I felt Ian’s eyes on me at Mistress Cameron’s invitation. I allowed myself to glance at him as well and our eyes met making my chest flutter once again. He smiled brightly as if just getting me to look at him was the highlight of his day. I looked away feeling myself blush. As curious as I was to learn more about Ian, it was dangerous territory to walk into. 

“I’ll not be a burden to you,” Jamie continued, taking a seat next to Jocasta.

“No, we don’t intend to stay that long,” Claire said.

Mistress Cameron just gave them a warm smile. “Bless ye, dears, ye’re kin. Twill not be a burden to have a man of such strength and mind for business at my disposal. Why the good women and men of Cape Fear will be clamorin’ to engage with ye, especially once they’ve had the pleasure of making yer acquaintance at a wee gatherin’ I intend to hold in yer honor.”

A breathy laugh came out of Jamie’s mouth followed by a crooked smile. “Ye’re familiar wi’ my business dealings.”

“Mistress Cameron has kept up wi’ ye over the years, Master Fraser,” I said, finding some confidence amidst the casual atmosphere. I had rarely ever talked to anyone outside River Run, but Jamie and Claire made everything seem so comfortable and approachable. “She’s had me read her resources for her, letters and such. Like when you were in Paris and Edinburgh.”

“Ye flatter me, Rose. And call me Jamie, please.”

Jocasta sighed with amusement on her lips. “You’re no fond of flattery. Well, ‘tis her right to do so as well as mine. I have no sons of my own. Besides Rose, who else am I to lavish my attentions upon?”

Jamie smiled so appreciatively at her I wished she could have seen it. It was clear that no matter how long it had been, he still loved his aunt just as much as he did when they were both back in Scotland. I felt a little envious. I longed for a family such as that, a place to belong, a place where I didn’t have to hide in fear. I sipped my tea hoping no one noticed the slight disappointment on my face. Thankfully, I was saved by Rollo barging into the room through the front door. Immediately, a foul stench filled up the room forcing me to use my skirts to cover my nose.

Ian walked over to his dog who was whining terribly. “Dear God, Rollo, what happened to ye?”

The slave attendant holding onto Rollo’s tether dipped his head. “I’m sorry, Mistress Cameron. The beast ran after a skunk and got sprayed in the process.” 

“What in the devil is a skunk?”

Claire sat her tea cup down on a nearby table using her now free hand to cover her nose. “It’s an animal quite common around here. It sprays a foul liquid when it gets scared to ward off predators.”

Jamie looked as if he were about to gag. “Is it venomous?”

“No. Just malodorous.” Claire started to shoo Ian and Rollo out of the room. 

Mistress Cameron composed herself long enough to say, “It just so happens that my friend John Quincy Myers is visiting. He’s a man of the wild who can rid your mongrel of the stench.”

Ian sighed in relief. “Thank you, great-aunt.”

“Rose, why don’t you go show Ian the way? I’m such John Quincy is where he always is, by the riverbank.”

I nodded feeling my heart drop into my stomach. Standing near Ian had been enough to send my breathing into a panic. Now I was going to practically be alone with him. I wanted to reject her request, but I knew how impolite that would be. It would also spark many questions that I was not even sure how to answer. So I stood up from the couch and followed Ian and Rollo out the door. 

#outlander #outlander series #jamie fraser #claire fraser #claire beauchamp #outlander fandom #outlander fanfic #outlander fanart #young ian #ian murray #outlander starz #outlander season 4 #outlander season 7 #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #outlander spoilers

[tarithenurse]

Help me

Fandom: MCU Pairing/starring: Thor Odinson &/x Avenger!fem!reader Word count: 1594 Content: Plotting/scheming and carrying out pranks, drinking, some pining and fluffy confessions of love. A/N: I’m not sure where this came from but I hope you guys like it :) Betaed by my lovely TanteFrutsel-CreativeNurse.

Help me

You’re bored, having had no missions for a while. Your normal three victims for pranks are all gone on their own businesses but you know Loki is bound to return within a day so now is your chance to get him for the flour in your pockets.

Tiptoeing down the tower’s hallway, your arms are full of rolls of cling wrap.

You settle the tools for your prank beside you as you kneel before the door, knowing better than to expect the Trickster God to leave his door unlocked or untrapped. Using every skill in your arsenal (most taught by Natasha and Loki himself, ironically), you investigate the lock and handle, unlocking the door before moving on to the door itself. Deeply engrossed in the task at hand, you hear the sound of nearing footsteps too late.

“What are you doing?” Thor’s voice rumbles behind you, making your heart stutter from the shock of having been caught as well as your usual crush on the god.

On hands and knees, ass up in the air, you’ve been trying to squint beneath the door for fear of a trigger to some trap and now you don’t dare to glance over your shoulder. “N-nothing?”

“Lady [Y/N], are you breaking into my brother’s chamber?” There’s a brief moment in which he clearly takes the scene in fully. “With...the wrapping from the kitchen? Why?” He truly sounds confounded.

Sighing, you get up from your exposed position, concerned that there are no traps that you can spot but now having to deal with the big brother. “Just...can we pretend you didn’t see anything?” You look up into his electric blue eyes that are beginning to hide under furrowed brows.

“Is this one of your pranks?” he asks with a serious tone but you can see a little smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

A sudden thought spurs you on, forcing its way past your shy love for the blond god: “Wanna help me? I’m gonna wrap everything in cling wrap.”

The little grimace turns into a veritable grin. “I am pleased that you ask.”

You allow Thor to push the door open and you’re pleasantly surprised that nothing happens as he enters beyond.

Loki’s abode is themed in his signature colours: bottle green and gold. The bed is opulent with its canopy and it functions as the centrepiece of the room despite the large, comfy chair and all the bookcases. The rug ties all of it together and brings your attention to the old-fashioned desk on the other side of the room. In other words: there are plenty of things to wrap. Smiling shyly to your new conspirator, you hand over a roll and set to work.

...

Even with Thor helping, it takes a while before everything is wrapped – you’d decided to wrap the items lying around individually too and that included the clothes in Loki’s closet and his toiletries but at least you’d opted out of doing each book in the bookcases. Thor had been a big help reaching the higher places (sometimes by lifting you onto his shoulders which had set your heart racing all over again).

Now you look at the result, admiring the glistening layer on everything which you know will drive Loki mad.

“We should get a drink to celebrate,” Thor grins at you over his shoulder as he bends to pick up the empty rolls from the cling wrap.

You’d like that. Literally any excuse to spend more time with him would be agreeable to you.

...

You’re well through your umpteenth mojito when Thor interrupts his own tale of past exploits on the battlefield (and your inner musings on your adoration for him) to look over at you with a puzzled look.

“What?” you hiccup, your usual reservations long gone.

“Midgardians do not hold their drinks well,” he muses which you take slight offence at – only slight because you do feel the couch tilting beneath you.

With a floomp you fall sideways, with your head near Thor, and grin up at him. “What makes you say that?”

“Do you not realize what you have just said?”

“I said...’What’...” Your brows wrinkle as you try to remember anything you might have said before that but come up empty.

Deciding that you’re lying uncomfortably (and missing your drink), you struggle to get back to an upright position and you’re thankful for Thor’s help once more but as you reach out for your glass, he pushes it aside.

“Lady [Y/N]...I think you have had enough...”

Gingerly, he scoops you up in his arms, ignoring your pouting, and carries you to your room where he places you gently on the bed. It’s heavenly soft and you immediately snuggle up. Then you make up your mind, scoot a bit to the side and pat the bed next to you.

“I wanna hear the rest of your story,” you declare.

“Tomorrow,” Thor assures you, gently stroking your cheek.

“Aw but...but...what if I ask nicely?” you try again. His smile is dazzling but it’s evident that your hope will be dashed and you power on: “Like...if I come with a really good argument, will you stay here?”

He tilts his head like a big golden retriever. “And what could you say to impose on you in your current state?”

“It would make me happy if you stayed? I’d be sad and have to cry myself to sleep if you left?”

He sighs, “well we cannot have that.” The mattress dips as he gets in, his head on your spare pillow and legs crossed at the ankles while he laces his fingers over his toned abs. The man truly is a god. “Do you think you can find rest now?”

You contemplate the question, slowly tumbling the words through your hazy brain and coming to the conclusion that it could be even better. Resolutely, you roll over and slap your head onto his chest, an arm wrapped around his abdomen.

“Now I can.”

And sleep truly is already finding you, spurred on by the alcohol. Only a few moments go by before the world grows soft and fuzzy as sleep weighs you down, barely leaving you time to mutter a slurred ‘I love you’ before your eyes finally drift shut.

...

Peeling your eyes open, you’re happy that the sun can only barely peek past the curtains, leaving the room in shadows which are soothing for your headache. You also realize two things: the first one is that you’re fully clothed which is not a typical way for you to sleep, and the second is that you’re practically glued to someone else...and yeah, you know exactly who this person is.

Craning your neck, you look up through a slight haze and find Thor gazing back at you.

Memories come rushing back in a big jumble that you try to sort through and something tells you that you shouldn’t be surprised. He carried you to your room?

“You stayed?” you croak with a parched throat.

He smiles gently. “You asked me to...and then, frankly, you held on too tight for me to be able to leave.”

You’re mortified but it only gets worse the more you remember. And didn’t you...oh fuck. A memory laced with sleep makes itself known and removes your attention from the physical discomfort. Three small words that escaped as you drifted off, finally breaking free of their confinements that had kept them secret for so long. Maybe it’s just a dream...or a nightmare, really.

Searching Thor’s face, you can see something has shifted, though. He seems nervous, breath baited and the hand that rests on your back is trembling ever so slightly.

“I do not know if...if you...” he’s searching for the right words, “you said something before...”

“Before I fell asleep?” you wince and he nods, taking away your last hope that maybe you haven’t betrayed yourself.

He squirms, clearly as uncomfortable with the situation as you are. Oh fuck, he hates me now. Needing distance, you detach yourself from his side. Your plan is to roll away from him, to get up...preferably to walk away for forever. But his large hand engulfs your wrist – not tight enough that you couldn't break away, but the gesture is enough to stop you. Still, you can't face him, afraid of what you might learn if meeting his gaze.

“Please, lady [Y/N]...” there’s a quiver to his voice, “I must know if those were merely drunk warbles or if...if I stand a chance...”

Stand a chance? His choice of words makes you finally seek out his electric blue eyes and you find a flicker of something you’ve never noticed before but in retrospect has always been there: adoration. Love?

Hope blooms within you. “I...I love you,” you whisper.

“Norns be blessed!” he gasps. His face nearly splits in a huge grin. “This means that my feelings for you are not unrequited. [Y/N]...please know that my heart belongs to you, now and forever.”

You gape at him for a moment, trying to fathom what he’s just said and eventually managing to come to the only possible conclusion. A shy smile curls your lips. All the dread that had filled you moments before is gone, replaced by a surge of warm joy that makes you move up flush to the god who happily wraps you in his arms. A kiss lands on your forehead and you chase his lips with your own, knowing that you finally can have the real thing and not just a daydream.

#Thor #thor odinson #Thor mcu #thor x you #thor x reader #thor x female reader #x you #x reader #x fem!reader #thor x fem!reader #pranks #pining #love confessions #fluff #mcu fanfiction #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #fanfiction #fanfic #writing