#word count: 1877

[pitchsidestories]

Secrets II Patri Guijarro x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1877

a/n: inspired by this adorable request. Let us know what you thought of it. <3

Champions League nights were always something special. Especially when your team just secured their spot in the semi finals. You were still on the pitch, applauding the fans and taking in the amazing atmosphere while most of your team mates slowly retreated back into the dressing room.

The cool chill of the night send a shiver down your spine. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to enjoy the moment and not think about anything else. But you could not stop yourself from glancing over to the other side of the pitch where Patri was doing her post-match interview.

You decided to go back and wait for her in the tunnel, in hopes that could spend a few minutes alone with her between leaving the pitch and entering the dressing room.

Patri smiled brightly as she saw you leaning on the wall.

“You love a champions league goal, don’t you, Patri?“, you smirked, hinting at the goal she scored shortly before the game ended.

She laughed: “I really do.“

You playfully pulled her closer to you, tugging on her sleeve: “That was admittedly kinda hot. Especially with the captains armband tonight.“

Your girlfriend winked: “Oh, you think so?“

“Yes, I do.“, you confirmed teasingly.

“Come here.“ Patri wrapped her arms around you.

You giggled: “What if someone sees us?“

The midfielder shrugged in the dim light: “It’s fine. We can go inside in a second.“

“Sure.“

“Come on.“, Patri said, now gently pushing you against the wall.

You raised your eyebrow: “A kiss from the goal scorer?“

Your girlfriend had the audacity to blush, making you want to kiss her even more. “Just a quick one, okay?“

“Okay.“, you agreed reluctantly.

Patris lips felt soft against yours. You wished you could stay in this moment for longer.

“My favourite secret.“, Patri winked at you when she pulled away.

You rolled your eyes and nodded into the direction of the dressing room: “I think our team is waiting for us.“

“Hey, what are you two waiting for?“, Marionas voice interrupted the two of you.

She stuck her head out of the dressing room. You looked for a sign in her face that would tell you if she had seen you. But you found nothing, so you innocently replied: “We’re coming. The captains interview took so long.“

Mariona shook her head as you walked past her into the dressing room.

“Once Patri’s talking, she can’t be stopped.“, Claudia snorted.

Patri grimaced: “Hey!“

“It’s true.“, you added casually, walking over to your locker.

“Rude.“, your girlfriend feigned outrage.

You were in the middle of pulling your shirt over your head when Ingrid turned to you: “Y/n?“

“Yes?“

“Why were you outside the whole time when you should have celebrated with us?“, the Norwegian asked.

You tilted your head: “Missed me?“

“Yes.“, she nodded.

“Don’t worry. I’m here now.“, you laughed.

Caroline joined the conversation: “Yeah. Now.“

Impatiently you asked your Norwegian team mates: “So what did I miss?“

“The usual chaos.”, the forward shrugged her shoulders.

Curious Ingrid looked at you:” You’ll join the team dinner tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. What about you, Caro? Will you come too?”, you asked her with a teasing smile on your lips.

“I have no choice.”, she sighed, pointing into the direction where Marta was standing. The Norwegian midfielder and you found it adorable that the usual shy and reserved Caroline would literally say yes to everything her girlfriend was asking her to do even if it was team meetings she usually tried to avoid.

The location the club chose to have the team dinner at was beautiful. From where you and Patri were sitting you had the perfect view on the city’s pretty sight. Although you had to secretly admit that you spend more time-sharing stolen glances between you and your girlfriend when staring at the Catalonian scenery.

Your fellow teammates didn’t seem to notice that Patri was holding your hand hidden under the table:” The food is delicious, right?”

“It’s.”, you nodded.

Clearing her throat Ingrid tried to get your attention, she and Mapi were seated opposite of you:” Y/n, Mapi has found someone who could be a perfect fit for you.”

“You guys are trying to set me up again? Do I’ve to remind you what happened the last time?”, you gasped dramatically.

For a second the Spanish defender seemed guilty before returning to her usual self, sounding confidently:” Yeah, that didn’t work out well. But this time we’re sure that she’s perfect for you.”

“That’s sweet of you two but..”, you begun.

“This time it will go great. Just trust us.”, Mapi interrupted you quickly.

“Exactly.”, Ingrid continued in a reassuring tone.

Meanwhile Patri who listened the conversation quietly couldn’t watch it any longer and intervened frustrated: “Why are you even trying to set her up? I’m sure she could have anyone she wanted.”

“Patri.”, the defender rolled her eyes annoyed at her.

“What? Not everyone needs to be in a relationship.”, she countered.

“We only want the best for her.”, Mapi tried to reassure the Spanish midfielder.

“Pretty sure she knows that better than you.”, Patri grumbled.

Before your girlfriend was able to accidentally reveal your relationship, you asked your teammates in an overly cheerful tone:” What do you guys choose for dessert? I can’t decide.” 

“I’m taking the chocolate cake.”, the defender replied too surprised to ask why you changed the topic so suddenly.

You felt relived when you said:” Guess, I’ll pick that too.”

Later at your place, you could feel Patri was still tense from the talk you had with Ingrid and Mapi earlier, softly you lifted her chin, so she had to look into your eyes:” Patri? You know that I don’t want anyone else but you, right?”

“I do.”, your girlfriend hummed, pressing a kiss to your wrist.

“Good.”

“It’s just annoying.”, she added grumpily.

“I agree.”, you said to her while stroking her open hair gently.

Patri let out a sigh: “It’s okay.“

“I love you, Patri.“ You locked eyes with her until a small smile appeared on her face.

“I know. I love you too.“, she replied.

You smirked: “Oh, I know.“

Patri pulled you close to her: “I hope so!“

“Trust me.“

She tilted her head: “Maybe. I’ll have to think about it.“

“Excuse me?“, you asked, playfully pushing her away from you.

You girlfriend shrugged: “You might go on that set-up date.“

“No, I won’t.“, you laughed.

“Are you sure?“, Patri curiously raised her eyebrow.

You nodded firmly: “Very sure.“

“Reassuring.“, she commented before kissing you quickly.

“See?“

“Yeah, sure.“, Patri just said, too distracted by you to continue the conversation.

When you met the rest of the team for training the next morning, Ingrid was in a great mood. She was beaming as she walked on to the training pitch: “What a beautiful day for training.“

“Oh yes, the sun is so nice.“, you agreed, turning towards the sunlight and closing your eyes to soak up the Vitamin D.

Caroline shrugged: “Yeah, could be worse.“

You opened your eyes again, grinning at your team mate: “There is our grumpy sunshine.“

“Ugh.“, she groaned in response, obviously not a fan of your nickname for her.

“Come on, Caro.“, you tried to motivate her and played a ball in her direction for the next exercises.

“No.“, Caroline rolled her eyes in response but still continued the pass the ball.

You were right in the middle of a scrimmage, trying to win the ball back from Keira when you felt a sharp pain in your knee. Immediately, your leg gave out and you found yourself on the grass, holding your knee.

“No!“, Ingrid gasped.

You were too focused on trying to calm your breathing and to stop your thoughts from racing to notice that your team mates gathered around you.

“Y/n!“, Patri yelled and was quickly kneeling by your side.

Caroline looked down at you, worry reflecting in her eyes: “Are you okay?“

“No… it hurts.“, you cried breathlessly.

“Shit!“, you heard Patri curse under her breath next to you while she gently stroked your hair.

“She’s going to be okay…“, Ingrid tried to stay cheerful but the tone of her voice was not convincing.

You carefully tried to sit up and extend your knee but the pain was still there. You flinched.

Patri squeezed your hand tightly: “Love, don’t move. I’m here.“

You tried to focus on your girlfriends touch, you even failed to notice what she said.

Mapi and Claudia exchanged surprised looks: “Love?!“

“I knew it.”, Caroline exclaimed.

“What?”, Ingrid turned to the fellow Norwegian, looking shocked.

Serious the forward stated: “It isn’t that surprising.”

“Right, not when one thinks about it for a bit longer.”, the midfielder agreed after a short moment, playing the recent encounters between you and your girlfriend inside her head, seeing now all the little clues which showed that you were more than just friends.

Much later you were resting your leg on the sofa, looking up to Patri :” The doctor said that I’ll be out for a few weeks.”

“A few weeks?”, she lifted an eyebrow in response.

“Yes.”

A relived sigh escaped the Spanish midfielder’s lips:” Okay, that’s better than what I expected.”

“Sorry, it felt worse than it was.”, you apologized to her, feeling your cheeks turn hot.

She happily told you:” Hey, don’t worry about that. I’m just glad to share the pitch with you in a few weeks.”

“Maybe just in time for the champions league finale. Wait, are those sunflowers, how did you know that they are my favourite.”, you glanced at your girlfriend in awe.

“Oh please. I know what your favourite flowers are by now.” , Patri chuckled.

“Thank you.”, you whispered gratefully as the Spanish woman gave you your flowers.

She softly pressed a kiss on the top of your head: “You’re welcome, love.”  

“Caro claims that she knew about us the whole time.”, you told her grinning.

“I don’t believe that we were so careful”, the Spanish player shook her head laughing.

You agreed with her:” That’s true except for today.”

“Yeah, I guess they all know now.”, Patri nervously went through her hair with one hand.

“It’s okay.”, you reassured her.

In an earnest tone the midfielder thought out loud:” Maybe it was time to tell them anyway.”

With a crooked smile on her face, she added:” They’ll never shut up about it, right?”

“Never.”, you smirked at her.

“Do you think we’ll survive?”, the Spanish woman asked you half seriously and half half-jokingly.

“Yeah, if the other couples in the team can do it so can we.”, you concluded.

“But first, you have to make sure that your knee heals properly.”, Patri reminded you.

“I’ve the best nurse right here.”, you winked at her cheekily.

“Don’t worry. I will take care of you.”, your girlfriend promised you earnestly and the midfielder meant every word she said. Carefully she put the sunflowers into a vase and placed them on the table in the living room.

Secretly Patri hoped that your favourite flowers would remind you during the tough rehab days which were laying ahead of you that after rain the sun would always return, no matter how worse the weather seemed.

#patri guijarro #patri guijarro x reader #woso x reader #woso oneshot #woso #woso imagine #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #patri guijarro imagine #ingrid engen #caroline graham hansen #mapi leon

[tzuyubb]

Hot Spring Group Pleasure

Pairing: TWICE Tzuyu x CLC Elkie x Male reader

Word Count: 1877 words

Tags: Gangbang, interracial, handjob, blowjob, deep penetration, rough sex, all holes filled, creampie, ahegao, mind break

A/N: Now I understand why writers don’t like to write gangbang smuts 😂 This was pretty difficult to write but hopefully it came out alright.

Tzuyu and Elkie had always been an interesting duo. Elkie loved to push the innocent and reserved Tzuyu’s boundaries, urging her to try new things, especially when it came to her sexuality. So when she heard about this special secluded hot spring in Japan, she knew she had to bring Tzuyu to check it out.

The hot spring was deep in the mountains, with the hike to it being long and arduous. Tzuyu complained ‘Elkie, how much further do we have to go?’. ‘We are almost there. It will all be worth it, trust me.’ Elkie replied playfully.

After an hour-long hike, they finally arrived at the hot spring. At the entrance, Tzuyu noticed a sign, which read “Mixed-gender hot spring. 8-person maximum occupancy. Whole day booking only.” Worried, Tzuyu asked, “It says that it is mixed-gender, do you know if anyone else booked for today?” Elkie winked and replied, “Don’t worry, I’m sure we are alone and, if anyone joins us, I’m sure they won’t be weird or creepy.”

As the pair went through the entrance, they couldn't help but let out a gasp of amazement. The water was crystal clear and steaming hot, and the surroundings were peaceful and serene. They wasted no time in changing into their swimsuits. Tzuyu wore a cute pink one-piece that accentuated her curves, while Elkie wore a matching blue one-piece that complimented her toned figure.

After laying down their towels, Elkie and Tzuyu stepped into the warm water. It enveloped their bodies, the heat soothing their muscles after the torturous hike. They rested against the edge of the hot spring, closing their eyes and letting out a contented sigh of satisfaction. All their built-up tension started to melt away in the rejuvenating waters. It was pure bliss.

However, the peace and relaxation were short-lived, as they heard a rowdy group of men approaching. They were laughing and talking loudly, clearly without a care in the world.

Opening their eyes, they saw six tall, muscular men making their way toward the edge of the hot spring. Wearing tight swim trunks, their dark skin and chiseled bodies were on full display. They were all well-built and undeniably handsome, but what caught the attention of Elkie and Tzuyu were their massive bulges. Tzuyu was taken aback and her eyes widened, she had always heard that black men were well-endowed, and their bulges seemed to confirm that.

Before they could even think about moving away, the six men were already in the water. The group approached the pair with mischievous grins. Tzuyu tried to maintain her composure, but her body betrayed her. She felt a rush of desire, her heart pounding with excitement. The men surrounded them, their eyes roaming over the girl’s bodies.

One of the men, with a deep, smooth voice and a playful glint in his eyes, spoke up ‘Well, well, what do we have here? Two beautiful girls all by themselves in the hot spring.’ With that comment, Tzuyu felt her cheeks flush. Elkie replied flirtatiously ‘You guys aren’t too bad yourselves.’ From that moment, Tzuyu knew that Elkie had it all planned out from the start.

The six men began to engage them in conversation, asking the girls about themselves and making them feel at ease. The girls discovered that they were a group of wealthy American businessmen, visiting Japan for the first time. They were friendly and charming, the girls being unable to resist their infectious laughter and flirty banter.

As the conversation became more heated and sexual, without warning, one of the men leaned in and pressed his lips to Tzuyu’s. Tzuyu was caught off guard, but she didn't resist. She gently pressed her body against his, as he wrapped his arms around her waist. His hands began to roam all over her body, touching and caressing her curves. She couldn’t believe what was happening, but she was too turned on to even consider protesting.

Before she knew it, two of the other men had joined in, their hands and lips exploring every inch of her body. She surrendered herself to their touch, becoming more and more aroused with each passing moment. The heat from the water mixed with the heat of their bodies was intoxicating and she found herself getting lost in pleasure. As she looked over to Elkie, she saw the remaining three men had done the same to her. She felt aroused seeing her best friend's body being kissed, touched, and ravished.

Tzuyu felt their hands wandering lower and lower until they reached her core. Using their large and thick fingers, they playfully teased her clit and pussy over her swimsuit. She let out a seductive moan, feeling a hot wetness growing inside her as she imagined their fingers fucking her pussy. Suddenly, one of the men reached behind her and untied her swimsuit. Tzuyu gasped as it was quickly discarded, leaving her curvaceous body completely exposed and vulnerable to their touch and gaze. The men's eyes immediately went wide as they took in her beauty. She felt joy run through her body, as she noticed the lust in their eyes.

In contrast, Elkie had taken on more of a dominant role. She passionately kissed one of the men, exploring his mouth with her tongue. At the same moment, her hands moved over the bulges of the other two men, gently stroking their hardening cocks over their trunks. She knew just how to tease them, making them hungry for more. Then, after seeing Tzuyu’s exposed body, two of the men ripped apart Elkie’s swimsuit, so that she could share her best friend’s bare state. Seeing Elkie’s exposed toned body made their bulges even bigger.

‘Well boys, it seems unfair that they should be the only ones without clothes.’ one of the men exclaimed. They all laughed in unison, understanding what they were to do.

The six large dark men slowly left the embrace of Tzuyu and Elkie. They withdrew from the water and proceeded to stand next to each other in a line. One by one, they stripped off their swim trunks, revealing six big black cocks.

Tzuyu was awestruck, she had never seen cock’s that large and girthy before. They were definitely the most well-endowed men she had ever seen. She couldn’t help but gasp at their size, feeling intimidated but also incredibly turned on. Upon seeing her reaction, Elkie smirked and asked ‘Are these the first black cock’s you’ve seen?’. Tzuyu replied ‘I mean I've heard stories and seen them in videos before, but never in person. I didn’t realize a cock could be that huge.’

One of the men roared ‘Come and take a closer look then!’

Elkie happily accepted the offer, seductively shaking her hips while exiting the water and walking over. In front of three of the men, she then dropped down onto her knees and gestured Tzuyu to join her. Obediently, Tzuyu shyly got out and walked over, until she was in front of the other three men.

Without warning, Elkie grabbed Tzuyu’s wrist and pulled her down onto her knees. Tzuyu was now face to face with their stiff members. She felt a pulsating between her legs and her nipples became erect. The thought of being with multiple well-endowed men at once excited her.

‘Go on touch it, it won’t hurt you’ one of the men said jokingly.

Using one hand, Tzuyu sheepishly grabbed the shaft of one of the men. Her hand barely fit around it, she was stunned. Holding it up against her forearm, she said ‘Oh! My! God! It’s the size of my forearm’.

Elkie laughed ‘Aww don’t worry, let me show you how to handle these big black cock’s’. She opened her mouth and placed her full lips around the tip of one of the cock’s. At the same time, in each hand, she then held the shaft of two others. She was now ready.

She began bobbing her head back and forth, taking the long shaft deep into her mouth. The black cock stretched her mouth wide open. Her hands then started to jack off the two other cock’s she was holding.

Tzuyu couldn’t hold back anymore, looking at her best friend taking 3 cock’s stirred her curiosity and arousal. She surrendered to her primal desires and held the shaft with both hands, slowly stroking it. As she stroked it, she could feel it growing even harder, the tip leaking precum due to her tight handjob. With her eyes fixated on the massive phallus in front of her, she stuck her tongue out and licked the sweet precum off the tip.

The remaining two men joined in. They grabbed Tzuyu’s hands and placed them on their cock’s. Learning from Elkie, she began stroking them off while giving the other a blowjob.

The sounds of sucking and squelching filled the room. The six men could also be heard moaning and grunting, as their large cock’s were pleasured by two gorgeous women.

But the men didn't stop there; they wanted more. So the four men getting a handjob released the grasp of Elkie and Tzuyu. Two of the men laid down below the two girls with their cock’s standing at attention, while the other two kneeled down behind them. Lifting both girls, they repositioned them so their holes lined up with each of their cock’s. With the tip of their cock’s, the men teased and explored the entrances of Tzuyu and Elkie’s holes, the leaking juices lubricating them.

Then, in one synchronized motion, Tzuyu and Elkie’s pussy and ass were slowly impaled. The girls let out a satisfied scream and their heads spun with pleasure. They could feel the massive dicks stretching them in ways they never imagined possible. Their holes were completely filled in a way neither had ever experienced before. Tzuyu, especially, couldn't believe how good it felt to have three men stuffing their cock’s in her at once.

‘Come on boys! Let’s break these sluts!’ one of the men shouted. Both girls were then relentlessly and roughly fucked in their mouths, pussy’s and asses. Their bodies writhed, overwhelmed by the sensation of all their holes being thrust into at once. They could feel themselves losing control, their euphoric moans muffled as their bodies were used for the men’s pleasure. Hearing their muffled moans only increased the gratification and desire of the hungry men.

After hours of persistent fucking, each of the men had reached their climax. They departed the hotspring and left Tzuyu and Elkie exhausted and strewn on the ground trembling with ecstasy. Each of the girls had a gaping wide pussy and ass, which leaked with cum. Their eyes were rolled back, mouths opened and filled with the men’s seed. They were in heaven, their minds and bodies broken.

As Tzuyu lay there slowly recovering, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment. She smiled, thinking ‘I can’t believe I was just gangbanged by three black men with massive dicks’. She was eternally grateful for the experience Elkie had given her, as it was one of the hottest and most memorable moments of her life. Tzuyu was no longer the innocent girl she once was, but a whore who craved and worshiped big black cock.

#twice tzuyu #chou tzuyu #tzuyu #tzuyu smut #tzuyu x reader #tzuyu x male reader #twice #twice tzuyu smut #twice smut #clc elkie #elkie #elkie smut #clc elkie smut #elkie x reader #elkie x male reader #clc #clc smut #kpop smut #smut #male reader #kpop gg #idol x male reader #idol x reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #kpop #kpop idol

[shockercoco]

Snap Out of It

Austin Butler x reader

Warnings - angst, fluff, soft!Austin aka normal Austin

Word count - 1877

a/n - request: “The reader works from home and is really stressed and starting to fall back into depression and Austin comforting her. Austin finds her crying when he comes home because she is overwhelmed” - I wrote this on my phone since I’m out of town and it was kinda terrible. Also I visited Elvis’ house and saw Austin’s little exhibit, enjoy :)

You were getting more and more anxious with every passing day. Earlier this month you had auditioned for a role, and you were told that you would receive an answer by the end of the month. Ever since the audition, the first thing you would do each morning would check your emails and your messages for a response, but you were met with nothing.

To be honest, you really needed this job. This is the first role you’ve auditioned for in over a year, and getting the job would help bring you out of your current funk. You spend your days working from home, except for the days you have to go out in town for meetings, and being at home all the time is taking a toll on you.

For months Austin had been gone to film for a new movie and he had just come back recently. You watch as Austin leaves to go to the gym or meet up with friends, and each time he would ask you to join him and tell you to leave your work for later, but you were never in the mood.

You could see the disappointment on his face when you would decline his offers, but he wouldn’t say anything or push you.

Now, you were standing in the bathroom trying to wipe the tears from your eyes and clear your face before Austin came back home from dinner. Your face was red and your eyes were swollen — you just looked a complete mess.

You grab a washcloth and hold it under cold water to use on your eyes. This has started to become a recurring task, and somehow you felt like you were lying to Austin by doing this and acting like nothing is wrong.

After holding the washcloth over your eyes for a couple minutes, you lower your hands to examine your face in the mirror, only to see Austin standing in the doorway through the reflection in the mirror.

The look on his face breaks you, and for a second you feel like you’re going to start crying again.

Austin’s eyebrows are furrowed and he has this gentle look on his face. He’s still in his dress pants and buttoned down from dinner with his sleeves rolled above his elbows. You look away, not ready to look him in the eye and not really wanting to talk about it, but you already know he’s going to pry it out of you.

“You’re back early,” you say, trying to change the subject, even though it’s obviously not going to work. He was home early, though. He wasn’t supposed to be back for another hour.

What you don’t know is that he left early because he didn’t want to leave you home alone too long. He wouldn’t tell you that, though, because he knows how quilty you would feel.

When he got home, he noticed the house was a little too quiet, so he went looking around for you. He heard sniffles as he entered the bedroom, and that’s when he found you in the bathroom trying to clear your face.

He’s noticed the depletion of your mental health, but he’s been waiting for you to say something to him. He hates that it’s gotten to the point, and he can't help but feel like it’s his fault.

You set the towel down on the countertop, and play with the cloth to continue avoiding his gaze. You wait for him to say something, but nothing comes.

It’s silent for a moment — you not being ready to talk, and him not knowing what to say. Then, you hear the shuffling of his socks on the bathroom tile coming closer to you.

Austin grabs your hips to turn you towards him, and when you don’t move, he makes his grip more firm. You finally give in to face him, looking up at him with your red eyes, though the swelling has gone down from the cold washcloth.

He holds your face in his hands as he stares down at you. Your eyes move to the side to look at anything but him. He wraps his arms around you as he pulls you into his chest, not caring about his nice shirt getting soaked, and that’s when you break down again.

He gently shushes you as your cries get more intense and your body shakes. When you start to quiet down is when Austin opens his mouth.

“I know you don’t want to, but I need you to tell me what’s going on. I’ve been waiting for you to come to me because I didn’t want to pry, but baby if you’re breaking down like this, you need to let it out. If you didn’t want to tell me, then at least talk to someone,” he pleads as he soothes you by rubbing your back.

You pull away from his chest with his arms still around you. Using the back of your hands, you wipe your eyes and sniffle to try and clear your stuffy nose. You feel bad for the wet spot you left on his shirt.

“I just…I don’t know. I feel like such a failure because all I do is wake up, get on my laptop, sleep, and repeat. And I feel like I’m in the way because you’re out working, and each time you come back home, I’m still in the same spot you left me in. I’ve been a killjoy for you and I’ve been taking up space, and you’ve just had to deal with me all these months and I’m so, so, sorry. I-,”

“Stop, stop, stop,” Austin says softly as he cuts off your rambling, bringing his hands back to your face. “You have nothing to be sorry for, so don’t apologize.”

“But I-,” you begin to say, but Austin cuts you off again. Tears gather in your waterline once again, but they don’t fall.

“No, I’m serious. Don’t apologize. You’re not a failure, I don’t ever want you to say that or think that about yourself because it’s not true. You think every actor is booked everyday of the year? They’re not. All actors take breaks, and they do it because they need to. Shit happens. And you haven’t been a killjoy or taking up space, this place is yours as much as it is mine.”

His eyes don’t leave yours once throughout the whole speech. His heart breaks at the sight in front of him. Austin hates to see you cry.

“I want to take a break. I didn’t need to take a break. I did this to myself,” you tell him.

“Who cares. You don’t need to feel like you always need to have something going on. No one’s pressuring you to do anything — I’m not, and neither is the world. I'll always be on your side, and I will always be here for you because I love you. I need you to know that,” Austin tells you with a sad smile. He desperately needs you to know that you’re loved. “Do you know that?”

You nod in response to his question, but he shakes his head.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, I know,” you mumble, but Austin accepts it.

“And don’t you ever forget it. Also, I wouldn't care if you never moved again and left a dent in the mattress, as long as you’re here for me when I get home that’s all that matters to me,” he jokes, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh. “There’s that smile.”

You give him a shove, and he just laughs. Austin moves his hands down to gather your hand in each of his.

“Have you heard back from that role you auditioned for?” He asks hopefully, his eyebrows raised and his tone still soft.

“Nope,” you shake your head as you let out a gloomy sigh.

“Well you still have until the end of the month,” he tells you as he playfully begins to swing your hands in his.

“At least one of us is optimistic,” you tell him as you look down.

“One of us has to be,”he says as he brings one of your hands up to his mouth for him to kiss the back of it.

The next morning, you wake up with a headache, the one that always comes when you’ve been crying. You stay in bed, not quite ready to get up and face the day. Although the talk you had with Austin did make you feel better, you still have that voice in the back of your head.

Austin rolls over to see you staring at the ceiling. He wraps an arm around your waist as he scoots closer to you, studying your face. You look over at him once you feel his touch and give him a small smile.

“How ya feeling?” He asks you as he lifts the bottom of your shirt a little to reach the skin on your waist and begins to caress the skin.

“Pretty good,” you say genuinely.

“You know, you could just stay here in bed with me. I don’t have anything to do today,” he tells you as he moves his hand over your stomach to lightly tickle the skin there.

You laugh at the feeling. “I would love to, but I have a couple things to do and some emails to send.”

Austin groans as you slowly crawl out of bed away from his touch, and you just smile.

You brush your teeth and clean yourself up before you head to Austin’s office where you do most of your work. As you’re walking down the hallway towards the room you feel your phone vibrate in your hand.

You thought it was just a regular notification, so you raise your hand to quickly glance at your phone before going to put your hand back down by your side, but you stop yourself halfway.

A message had caught your eye. Your manager had messaged you saying:

- Check your email NOW!

You’re frozen for a second before picking up the pace to the office. Once you reach the desk, you don’t even bother to take a seat as you type in the password to your laptop.

All you need to see are the words “we are happy to offer you the role” before you let out an excited scream. Finally. You can finally stop stressing, get out of the house, and continue what you love doing.

Austin comes running into the room after your outburst and meets you with a confused face. “What’s wrong?” he asks, but once he sees the huge grin on face, he raises his eyebrows and a smile appears on his own lips. “Did you get it?”

You nod happily as you jump up and down, and Austin mirrors your actions with his toothbrush still in his mouth.

As he brings you in for a hug, he says, “I’m so proud of you, I knew you would get it.”

“No you didn’t,” you tell him as he squeezes you.

“Yes, I did. I knew you would get it because you're amazing and talented and smarter than me and-.”

“Austin,” you laugh as you cut him off, “enough.”

Like what you see? Check out my masterlist ;)

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut

[luvyeni]

SEX FASHION AND GUITARS — chapter 28. release party !

𐙚 pairings. rockstar!jaemin x stylist!reader

synopsis. l/n y/n fashion major and photographer on the side who says what she wants, na jaemin music major and lead guitar player for underground band DREAM. After yn forgets her to change her account and says something that catches the eye of jaemin she tries to ignore him — expect thanks to chenle she now works for them.

word count. 1877

SMUT WARNING !!

Jaemins social battery had officially burned out; he sat in the booth of the club, nursing his drink; his picture hung up all over the club, watching his friends bask in all the attention they were receiving— half these people they didn’t really know, but when you tell people there’s free alcohol then it’s bound to be crowed.

Jaemin didn’t want to get to know the girls that were coming up to him— a few months ago, their sultry voice’s and little clothing would’ve peaked his interest; however his eyes were glued to only one person, you; but you were too busy dancing with jeno to even notice.

“you look like a loser.” Chenle came over, sitting down. “how you figure?” he scoffed, taking a sip of your drink. “you’re also stupid.” He rolled his eyes. “did you come over to insult me?” chenle shook his head. “im just saying, you’re not even trying, she came here, she looks hot as fuck.” He glared at the boy. “oh calm down, she’s my best friend I can say what I want.”

“anyways she looks good, and you’re sitting here like a loser just watching.” chenle said. “if you don’t take her home tonight, I think you should just give up, let jeno do it.” Chenle smirked watching the boys nose flare up. “seems like he’s close to anyway look.” He could see jeno’s hands low on your hip. “you’re annoying.” He turned to the younger boy. “but im right.”

chenle was scooped up by jisung dragging him away, leaving the boy alone again, still watching you; the more he watched you dance with jeno, the more jealous he became— and the more that damned skirt became see through. “shit.” He grunted, sitting his drink down on the table, standing up; hoping his growing boner isn’t showing — making his way over to you.

“why are you trying to get me killed by jaemin?” jeno questioned. “what makes you say that.” He put his hand on your waist. “you’re looking this good, im not gonna lie— and I know you can feel him staring at you.” He saw right through you. “so why not just go up to him.” You smiled. “because why not?” he shook his head. “you know he really likes you, he just doesn’t know how to verbally tell you.”

“so he’s a coward?” you questioned, he laughed. “yes, but he means well.” jeno said. “besides we both know you’d rather be with him than me, because you keep looking past me and if you continue to do so im gonna kill myself.” He said stepping back, turning around. “just on time, he’s coming over here.” He went to walk away. “have fun.” He smirked walking away.

“you scared him away.” you tilted your head, he knew you were teasing him. “good.” Before you could say something, he grabbed your waist pulling you close to him. “cause I love the guy, but he was pissing me off.” he looked at your skirt. “your skirt is really sheer, anybody could see something if they looked hard enough.” He squeezed your waist, smirking when you bit your lip. “I don’t think anyone is paying attention to me like that.”

Your hands came up to the nape of his neck, he grunted upon feeling you tug at his roots. “please princess, I could see it the moment you walked in here, all the eyes on you.” He said, you chuckled. “you seem jealous.”

“why wouldn’t i?” you could hear his voice deepen. “they’re staring at what’s mine.” His nose was pressed against yours. “what’s yours?” you questioned teasingly. “don’t remember you asking.”

Having enough of this push and pull, he gripped your waist, a small whimper falling from waist, and that’s all he needed. “we’re getting out of here.” He said. “now?” you questioned. “im not fucking you the bathroom of a club.” You felt a tingle below. “we’re going back to mines.”

The damn taxi couldn’t get there faster; saying your goodbye— jaemin not really caring, he was ready to take you back to his apartment. “the taxi is here.” He grabbed your hand— dragging you outside the club, opening the door to the car, letting you get in first; secretly cause he wanted to get a peek at your ass. “fuck, your skirt really is see through.”

You smirked as he got into car after you. “you can’t wear this anymore.” You felt his hand in between your thighs. “ja-jaemin stop.” You whispered. “why, you getting turned on?” it was his turn to smirk, pressing his lips against your temple. “you know this reminds me of the first time we ever left together.” You clenched your thighs together. “dirty girl, thinking about me fucking you again.” You prayed the driver didn’t hear. “don’t worry princess, we’re almost to minds, I can tell you’re getting wet.”

A few minutes later your misery was over; you had pulled up in front of jaemins apartment complex; he paid the driver, helping you out of the car, he stayed close to you so no one was looking at your skirt; that he swore he was gonna burn after tonight— cause after tonight you’d be his.

He didn’t even wait for the elevator door to shut, before his lips was on yours, pushing you against the wall. “j-jaemin , just can’t wait.” He dry laughed. “you’re breathless and panting in my ear, and im the problem.” His hand crept up your top— but the door open. “lets go.”

He pulled you down the hall to his apartment, hurriedly unlocking his door; his cock desperate to be touched as he pushed the door open, pulling you in, pushing up against the door. “fuck I finally got you to myself.”

You both didn’t even bother taking your shoes off, going at it until you got to the room; you got control for a second, pushing him down on the bed, sinking to your knees. “sh-shit princess, you look fucking sexy down there.” He lifted his hips, letting you pull his pants down. “so eager to have my cock in your mouth.” He hissed as he felt the cold air on his length. “you missed it that much?” you kissed his cock, his precum coating your lips, he sighed.

You wrapped your lips around his red mushroom tip sucking. “oh fuck!” he gripped the sheets. “keep going baby, keep sucking my cock.” you slowly went down on him, the tip of his cock kissing the back of your throat. “fuck, I missed your mouth so much.” You felt his hand tangling up in your hair. “come on princess -fuck- I know you can take it all the way.”

He pushed your head all the way down, your nose pressed against his abdomen; your throat tightening a his cock. “oh shit , keep sucking me baby, im gonna cum.” He grunted. “fuck im gonna cum.” he gripped the shits. “shit im cumming!”

You hummed around his cock, feeling his cum coat the back of your throat with a whimper like moan— pulling off him. “there we go, be a good girl and swallow it.” His cock twitching as he watched you swallow, sticking your tongue out, letting him tap his cock on your tongue. “perfect.”

He pulled you up into a kiss, your poor cunt begging to be touched. “this fucking skirt.” He growled against your lips. “who told you to wear this out?” he pulled the skirt down. “w-wore it for you.” You pouted, he smiled. “yeah?” he threw the fabric across the room, leaving you in your black panties. “wanted to show that pretty ass off for me.” He pushed your legs open, your cunt on display. “look at you, making such a mess.” He pinched your ass. “jaemin, fuck.” You moaned.

He slid your panties to the side. “look at your poor cunt, so wet, begging to be touched.” you sighed feeling his fingers on your slit. “so sensitive, been a while since someone touched this pretty pussy hasn’t it?” you moaned, nodding— even with hanbin, you both hadn’t even had sex, wanting to wait. “good, it’s mine, no one else should be touching it.”

You moaned as he slid his fingers inside. “fuck you sound so pretty.” He huffed, moving his fingers. “gonna stretch you out before i fuck you.” He slowly adding another one, using his thumb to rub your clit. “cum for me princess, make a mess on my fingers.”

You called out his name, letting your orgasm wash over you, legs twitching as he came. “jaemin , shit!” you squeaked as he pulled his fingers out, putting them into mouth before wrapping them around his length, stroking it before slapping it on your clit, slipping inside your warm waiting cunt. “shit, you’re so fucking tight.”

You moaned as cock dragged along your wall; pulling out— a scream involuntarily leaving your lips as he slammed back into you, a curse leaving his mouth; rocking his hips. “shit, I fucking love your pussy.” His hips slapping against yours, the sounds of your dripping cunt and your moans bouncing off the walls as he slammed into your cunt. “fuck keep clenching around me.”

“oh my god.” You gasped as his cock hit a certain spot. “jaemin fuck!” he fucked into that spot over and over. “fuck jaemin im gonna cum soon, please keep going.” He sped up, his hands coming up to your shirt, squeezing your boobs, pushing your knee up, hitting a different spot that made you see stars. “fuck im cumming!” you screamed, legs twitching as you came. “oh fuck let up princess, you’re too tight — gonna cum again.”

He could feel his orgasm approaching, your cunt squeezing his cock like a vice. “sh-shit, shit im cumming.” You felt his cock twitch twice before feeling his cum coat your walls. “oh fuck.” He sighed, holding himself up, looking down at you as you breath. “fuck princess.” He huffed. “you tired me out.”

You rolled your eyes; not liking that he rolled his hip, you whined due to overstimulation. “st-stop it.” You moaned. “m'sorry.” He smirked. “I’ll leave you alone for now princess.” You hissed as he slowly pulled out, watching his cum leak out after him. “so fucking hot.”

After laying there for about 15 minutes in silence, he turned to you, kissing your temple. “mine.” He whispered. “all of you.” He pulled out close. “is mine.”

you flipped your body around, so that your chin was resting on his chest. “I really should make you work for it na jaemin.” You teased. “should make you get on your knees and gravel.” He smirked. “I’ll get on my knees alright, but I won’t be graveling while im down there.” You felt his hand, coming dangerously close to your heat. “no you aren’t touching me down there anymore tonight I am exhausted.”

He sat up. “fine , let’s get you in the shower first, and then get you something to eat because sex and alcohol is quite literally barbaric to go to sleep on.” He helped you up. “look at you being a gentleman for once” he shrugged, kissing your lips, pulling away with a cheeky smile.

“that’s because you changed me.”

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©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #nct fanfic #nct x female reader #nct x reader #nct fic #nct smau #nct fake texts #nct ff #nct dream fake texts #nct dream ff #nct dream x female reader #nct dream fanfic #nct dream smau #nct dream social media au #na jaemin x reader #na jaemin fic #jaemin x reader #jaemin fanfic #jaemin fic #jaemin fake texts

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: minghao + galleries

alternative title: most beautiful art

pairing: minghao x gn!reader

genre: non-idols, fluff, established relationship, art galleries, proposal au

word count: 1877

warnings: pet names (love, darling)

event taglist: @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @hopetiger10 @shuabby1994 @yonabutnotyuna @lvlystars @k-drama-adict @onedumbho3 @sluttyhansol @haowrld

Art galleries aren't your thing, but they are Minghao's. 

"I think you're a little insane for this," he tells you, half-seriously, but the fondness and wonder is evident in the undercurrent of his voice, and you laugh, watching your boyfriend as he slowly drifts towards the first of the artworks in the room. 

"Insane only for you, my darling," you say teasingly, but he looks back at you with a smile all the same. You shrug, casual, like this is no big deal. "I have friends who have friends in high places. I know how to pull strings in order to hire an art gallery for a couple of hours."

Minghao's eyes widen at that, straightening from where he's bending down to read a plaque. "A couple of hours?" When you only grin wider, he shakes his head in disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved you more than I do right now.”

You laugh, putting your hands in the pockets of your dress pants with a bashful shrug. “I know how much you’ve wanted a private viewing in this gallery.”

“I have,” he says, face softening as he walks over to you and kisses you quickly, before grinning, wider than you’ve ever seen him grin before, his expression glowing with an almost childish giddiness. “And if you need me, I’ll be… somehwere.”

With that, he disappears through the several archways into another room, lost into the worlds of paints and marble and stories.

You smile, heart feeling so full to bursting, happy that your boyfriend looks happy. His birthday is coming up soon, but that isn’t the reason that you’ve gone to all the effort to hire this art gallery, just for the two of you, for an obscene amount of money. Oh, no. This is for something a little bit bigger.

You’re planning to propose.

Slowly, you wander through the rooms, keeping an eye out for where Minghao is, smiling impossibly wide as you watch him take pictures in the empty gallery, very clearly enjoying himself immensely. Art galleries have a certain ambience that is rather nice, you suppose. With all the gilded frames and wooden floors and the entire aura of beauty and delicacy and riches, it really would make a nice place to propose.

Everything is all planned out. In the center showroom of the gallery, you’ve managed to ask them to empty it out completely. In your pocket, the velvet ring case sits comfortably against your thigh, a warm secret you’re planning on exposing very, very soon. And in your heart, there resides a mess of nerves, but also hope, hope that everything will turn out well.

You’ve been dating for years now, and you’re both settled, and talks of marriage have been skirted around for at least a year. Minghao will smile and shake his head whenever you bring it up, and an excited giddiness rises up inside you every time you think of what his reaction will be of you proposing to him.

“Y/N, love, come look at this!”

Your head snaps up at Minghao’s voice, and you automatically find yourself gravitating towards it, drifting across the room to where he is. “I’m coming!”

Well, you don’t have long to wait to find out. Somewhere, waiting up in the CCTV room, there’s Junhui, who’s watching and waiting for your go-signal so that he can launch your proposal surprise.

But until then, you’ll enjoy this gallery date with your boyfriend, his arm linked with yours.

———————————— 🌃

You’re hiding something, and Minghao knows it.

He knows it for two reasons: number 1 being that you’re unusually jumpy, and number 2 being that you’re actually paying attention to the art.

He’s brought you to countless museums and art galleries before, sometimes against your will, most of the time with you agreeing to go. But he’s noticed that you never really look all that closely at the artworks. Mostly, you’re following him around, taking pictures of him, chattering thoughtfully or staying silent.

But as he watches you squint unusually hard at one oil painting portrait, he decides that you’re definitely hiding something from him.

“Darling?”

You flinch, and then lift your head up to look at him, eyes bright under the gallery lights as you beam. “Yes, my love?”

Minghao looks at you for a long moment, before just smiling and extending his hand out to you. He smiles wider as your eyes light up even more, and you walk over to him without questioning, grasping his outstretched hand and interlacing your fingers together.

Well, really, if you keep smiling at him like that forever, then he kind of thinks that it'll be okay for you to keep your secret for however long you want.

He leans in and kisses your cheek, softly, chuckling as you scrunch your nose at the action. “Let’s keep going, he says, squeezing your hand. “Two hours isn’t as long as you think.”

“That’s true,” you say thoughtfully, and follow dutifully as he leads you out of the room and into another. “In which case, why don’t we go to the center showroom now? They probably have all of the best stuff, right?”

“Sure,” Minghao says, guiding you through the rooms. He looks back at you, once, and then slows down, the smile on his face spreading.

You stop too, the confusion evident on your face, before Minghao steps into your space and brushes the finger of his other hand over your cheek, and then kissing you softly. It’s a short kiss, short and sweet, but you smile against his lips almost instantly, melting into him as the finger on your cheek turns into a whole hand. He cradles your face, delicate, and lets out a quiet laugh as you hum in content when he pulls away.

“I love you,” he says, low and sincere. “And I always will. I’ve loved you for too long to stop loving you now.”

“Goodness, look at you getting all cheesy on me,” you say teasingly, the adoration clear as day in your gaze as he brushes his thumb over your cheek once before letting you go, walking back through the gallery once more. “I guess I managed to turn the Xu Minghao into a softie, hm?”

Minghao fakes an exasperated sigh, his own lips twitching upwards in fondness. “I guess you really have.”

He finally arrives to a room that leads into the center showroom, but then his steps slow in confusion as he takes in the sight through the archways. He frowns, confusion giving way to concern and worry.

“Y/N,” he says slowly, “Why is this room empty?”

You just smile, and release his hand. You take a step back, and then gesture for him to walk into the showroom. “Go on,” you encourage. “It’ll make sense in a minute, I promise.”

Minghao tilts his head, lips twisted in bewilderment, but he does as you ask. He walks into the room, slowly, looking around for anything suspicious. But he can’t see anything, and he stops in the middle of the room to look back at you. You’re standing at the entranceway, and your smile looks like it’s trembling. If Minghao didn’t know any better, he’d say you were sad.

But he does know better, has known you for years, and knows that when your eyes sparkle like that, you're not sad, but excited.

“Perfect,” you breathe out, and suddenly all the lights go off in the room, save for a spotlight directly over Minghao.

He blinks, startled. “Y/N?”

“Minghao,” you return, smiling wider. “Hao, what do you think the most beautiful piece of art in the world is?”

Minghao simply gapes, open-mouthed, trying to understand what’s going on.

“Is it one of your own paintings?” you ask. “Is it a painting at all? Maybe it’s a sculpture. A collage. A dance piece.” You step forward, slowly. “Art can come in many forms. Beauty comes in many forms.” You interlace your fingers together, gradually making your way across the threshold and into the showroom. “Hao. Guess what I think the most beautiful art in the world is.”

Minghao shakes his head. “I don’t know.” His heart is pounding: he doesn’t know what you’re doing.

“It’s you,” you say, and your words are warm and he sees the way your eyes positively light up at your own confession. “Ever since the day we met, it’s always been you. You, with your wit and your sarcasm and your gentleness and your… well, your everything. You’ve always been the most beautiful thing in the world to me.”

“Me?” The cogs are turning in Minghao’s brain, trying to work out what you’re doing as you continue to step even closer to him, until you’re almost at the edges of the light of his spotlight.

You stop, right before you can step into the circle of light. “The center showroom is for special artworks,” you say. “For special exhibitions, too. Special visits, from special people, who might be interested in the artwork, who find themselves enamoured by it, and want to spend years gazing at the artwork that most catches their eye.” You pause, and then smile. “It’s for special proposals, of a sorts.”

Finally, finally, everything clicks. Minghao’s eyes widen as he watches you reach into your pocket and slowly get down on one knee in front of him.

“Oh,” he says, stunned. “You’re…”

“Xu Minghao," you say, and your voice is shaking, but your eyes are brighter than a thousand stars. "I love you. Perhaps more than I've ever loved anyone, or anything, before. And I promise to cherish you, to appreciate you, and to show you that love for as long as the two of us live, if you're willing."

You swallow, take a deep breath, and then beam up at him, opening the little velvet box in your hands to reveal a diamond engagement ring. 

"Minghao," you say softly, voice quietened with nerves, "will you marry me?"

There's a heavy moment as Minghao simply stares down at you, speechless, hand over his mouth. And then he nods, vigorously, pulling you to your feet and cradling your face in his hands. 

"Yes! Oh, of course," he breathes, and then wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. "Of course. I love you. I love you."

He repeats it over and over as he rubs circles into your back, feeling the way you shake in his arms, his own mind still reeling over the fact that he's just been proposed to. By the love of his life. 

You're murmuring "I love you"s right back at him, and his heart swells as he pulls away and lets you slide the ring on his finger, lips twitching upwards in both amusement and sheer joy. 

He looks up from his hand to your face, and under the bright light of the spotlight, you look like you're glowing, both with happiness and a beautiful, angelic light. 

"For the record," Minghao says, as his newly ringed left hand cups your cheek and the other rests against your waist, "in my opinion, you're the most beautiful piece of art too."

And then he leans in, and your fiancé's lips against yours are utter bliss. 

#fairyhaos.works #the 2k event -- fairyhaos #k-labels #svt #seventeen #minghao #the8 #seventeen fic #minghao fic #svt fic #svt minghao #svt x reader #minghao x reader #the8 x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen minghao #seventeen the8 #svt the8 #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #minghao fluff #the8 fluff #minghao imagines #seventeen imagines #minghao au #svt au #seventeen fanfic

[xoxoavenger]

Lost It All

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N had it all, if only for a couple hours

word count: 1877

warnings: lots of angst no comfort

12 Days of Christmas masterlist masterlist

"Oh my God," Y/N groaned, leaning back in her chair and tilting her head back dramatically.

"Y/N," Steve starts, but it's no use. Her hands are over her eyes and Steve knows he's already fucked.

"Steve, I am so close to fighting you." She whispers. She's exhausted, having not slept much during the mission, and she couldn't sleep on the way home, overtired in a way that she knew only one person could help.

"I know. We're almost done," he tries to soothe, but he knows it's no use.

"No, we aren't." She mutters, head coming back down to stare at him. "You know as soon as he figures out I'm here he's gonna knock you out and take me anyway. Just jot down your notes and I can leave." Her eyes were bloodshot, sloping down and slightly wet from her frustrated tears. She was clearly exhausted, and if it wasn't protocol he wouldn't have forced her to debrief with him now.

"Please tell me you wrote everything down." He had told her once that if she wrote everything down everyday and gave him the notes, he would keep their debriefs, well, brief.

"I thought you'd never ask." She smirked as she whipped out the journal, smacking it on the desk. "I marked this one with a receipt for the last coffee I was able to get before I left." She winked and Steve sighed as he looked down at the thick book, which looked like it had been through hell.

"Is that blood?" He asked, looking at the stain on the cover.

"You're the one who wanted me to keep a detailed account." She shrugged as she slapped her hands down n the table pushing herself to stand.

"What, did you use it to hit someone?" He called after her as she walked out of the room. She didn't respond, but Steve heard her squeal and turned to see Bucky picking her up around the waist, her arms wrapped around his neck and her head buried in his shoulder. Neither of them looked back at him as Bucky walked to their room, still holding her close.

~

"Did you sleep at all when you were gone?" Bucky asked as they lay in the huge bathtub, Y/N's back against Bucky's front, who was doing all the work of washing her up before bed. His thumb was rubbing under her eyes, where she was sure there were deep bags. She sunk against his shoulder even more, keeping her eyelids closed and rubbing his knee comfortingly.

"Do I ever?" She smiled slightly, but it made Bucky upset.

"I wish you would." He didn't like thinking about how exhausted she must have been while fighting off multiple men. They had talked in length about this, about the fact that Y/N could barely sleep on her own, let alone alone on a mission, but nothing they tried helped. The closest they'd gotten was calling every night, but with their busy schedules it just wasn't feasible. Besides, she used the night to think, sometimes sneak up on targets, and calling Bucky didn't help her think at all.

"Me too." She muttered, sighing as Bucky ran a fancy soap bar up and down her body, the warm water paired with his touch making her relax even more somehow.

"Don't fall asleep on me now." He gently nudged her, knowing that she would hate him and herself if she fell asleep in the tub, since Bucky would have to wake her up to get out.

"'M not." She muttered, head lolling to the side - a telltale sign she was basically out.

"Come on." He helped her up as she groaned, pulling a towel off of the warmer and wrapping it around her before cleaning up the bathroom quickly. He dried off quickly and pulled on briefs as he watched Y/N towel herself off and flop onto the bed, butt-naked and practically snoring.

Bucky chuckled as he grabbed clothes for her, dressing her like a doll and smiling when she reached out on the bed, trying to find his pillow. She had forgotten that she had taken his pillow on the mission, so it now was in the washer with everything from her bag.

He turned off the light before walking over to the bed, using the light from the window to guide him to the covers. He often cursed New York City for being so bright all the time, even when the sun was on the other side of the earth. It lit Y/N's sleeping body, however, so maybe it wasn't so bad.

"I missed you." He whispered as he brought her body close to his, finally being able to breathe now that she was in his arms. His head was on her pillow, just as it had been every night for the past week, and she was curled into him, his chest her pillow.

The truth was, he didn't sleep when Y/N was gone either.

~

Bucky was barely awake when she spoke.

"Do you wanna get married?" Y/N was staring at him, head tilted up and hand on his heart. He feared she could feel it skip a beat.

"What?" He finally said after what he knew was too long. The silence was honestly confusion on his end, because he had just woken up and didn't expect that. It had to be early in the morning, the sun barely risen, and he was sure she hadn't been awake for long either.

"I was just wondering." She looked down, starting to shrink away from him. He definitely didn't want that, so he tightened his arm around her and tried to gather his thoughts.

"I didn't mean to sound like that." He told her, one hand going to her chin to tilt her head up and let him look at her. "You just caught me off guard." He couldn't read her, but it was early in the morning, and his brain clearly was not working.

"I know you don't sleep either." Everything about this conversation was surprising Bucky. She didn't need to specify what she meant, because they both know she was talking about how when she went on missions, as well as when he went on missions. "Steve told me." Bucky looked away, caught.

"Of course he did." The little bastard. He was the only one that was able to tell that Bucky didn't sleep at all when he was away from Y/N, when they weren't in the same bed.

Suddenly, he was starting to see where the two ideas were connecting.

"I think getting married is the best idea you've ever had." He turned back to her, watching her eyes widen and feeling his chest expand with love.

"Are you being serious?" She asked, and instead of responding Bucky shifted to be on top of her, bringing her lips to his.

"I've never been more serious." Before he had even finished she squealed, face lit up in joy and full of love, the most love Bucky had ever felt.

"I love you so much." She whispered, letting him bring him in and kiss her. His hand was on her lower back and she was practically on top of him.

"I love you more." Bucky couldn't believe this was his wife. This was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

"That's not possible." She muttered, and he flipped her over to show her just how possible it was.

~

They had a deal. They didn't talk during missions. They acted like the other didn't even exist, because otherwise they would tear the mission down to save the other. They couldn't compromise everyone else. Except, everyone else was actually only Sam this time around.

This mission went worse than expected.

Y/N, Bucky, and Sam were behind a large wall outside the workshop they were supposed to infiltrate, hiding from the couple of agents they had yet to take out. There were too many of them. They had been grossly unprepared for this, not enough of them and unable to call for back up. They were trapped.

"When I give the signal, you get the fuck out of here." Bucky was talking straight to Sam, who nodded. Y/N was in between them, but they were talking over her head.

"What the hell are you talking about?" She asked, looking between the two. Neither of them paid any attention to her.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, ignoring Y/N. Bucky nodded once, then kissed Y/N on the forehead and ran out the of cover before she could say anything. Shocked, she went to follow him, but Sam grabbed her. She felt like she was watching a movie on her phone, or playing a game she couldn't control.

"No, wait," She started, but Sam had a hand over her mouth. She was pulled back against him, barely able to breathe, much less yell out. Her heart was in her throat, making her want to throw up. What was Bucky doing?

"It's me you want." Bucky started from far away, and Y/N's eyes widened. He was giving himself up to the Hydra agents. He was giving himself back to the Winter Solider.

Y/N thrashed against Sam, who was keeping her from giving up their position. Tears flooded down her cheeks as she hit her fists against him, trying to claw his hand, but he was stronger than her. She felt weak, helpless, not unlike how she imagined Bucky felt when he was brainwashed.

"Take the asset." She heard someone say, and Y/N's heart broke. Her tears were falling onto Sam's hand as she went limp.

"We're going," He whispered in her ear, but she shook her head. She wouldn't leave Bucky, she couldn't leave him. They were getting married. They were supposed to be together forever. He was supposed to be done with the winter solider. "If we don't go now, he did it for nothing." His voice snapped her out of her hurt, and she let Sam tug her away.

"What's the plan?" Y/N asked shakily as they ran. Sam didn't answer. "Sam," She grabs his arm stops, making him skid.

"The plan is we get back to the quintet." As his face turns to her she realizes he's been crying too.

"What about Bucky?" She asks, barely breathing when Sam tugs her forward. "Sam, what about Bucky?" She cries, lucky that they made it far enough away that the agents can't hear her.

"We'll send an extraction team." Sam tells her as he pulls her onto the jet. She screams and pushes in protest, her heart painful ripping in half slowly. She couldn't leave him, knowing what they would do to him.

"No, we have to go get him back! They're going to do it, they're going to make him into the solider again!" She cries, fighting Sam as he tries to strap her in.

"We can't! They'll kill us, and then it'll be for nothing. We have to keep going." He moves quickly to get the jet in the air, somewhere Y/N can't jump out in a suicide mission. Her screams pierce his ears, but he has to keep moving. Bucky made his choice.

"James!" She screams, dissolving into sobs as she curls into herself. She just lost her everything. Her lover. Her future husband. Her future.

She lost it all.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @thefandomplace @punzoquack @mcueveryday @icequeen1371 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #marvel #marvel imagine #the winter solider fanfiction #the winter solider #marvel x reader

[winter-soldier-101]

You are not her! Part 4

Word count:1877

(Y/N) flew over many buildings before landing in a forest with cannibal she made a little clearing and started to build a little house as cannibal kept watch after all Bravos was dangerous.

The maester looked at (Y/N) told her she was with child (Y/N) let out a small cry she always wanted to be a mother and now she’ll be one after seeing Rhaenyra have two beautiful boys (Y/N) knew this was her one time to be happy that Daemon didn’t give her moon tea.

Going home

A loud roar can be heard as (Y/N) flew over Kings Landing she was let in and made her way to the Throne Room but not alone her son and daughter are right beside their mother as they finally meet their King and Queen and uncles and aunt and cousins.

Rhaenyra looks over at the one person who would never leave her side as she looks on and she doesn’t recognize the person in front of her.

Daemon sees her (Y/N) has grown very beautifully and Daemon can’t stop staring at her.

“Father these are my children Aragon my son and Aemma my daughter” (Y/N) says looking at her father and seeing him smile as he slowly stood up and hobbled down the steps and hugs (Y/N) tight, afraid to let her go fearing she may leave again.

“I’ve missed you, my little dragon. I'm glad you are home again with children of your own, I’ve missed you (Y/N)” Viserys says with tears falling down his face as he hugs you once more.

Finding a match.

Rhaenyra sits down and listens to men and boys fight for her hand as (Y/N) and Ser Cole stand by her side.

“…. The wall Blackhaven are unscalable vassal stones and the castle is surrounded by a deep dry moat it is well fortified against any Dornish incursions and through my seat maybe lesser in size it is situated most pleasingly…. The view across the Marches is inspiring so said Queen Alysanne herself when she honored my father and I…” Lord Dondarrion was saying.

“Tell me Lord Dondarrion, did you think my great grandmother was as beautiful as they say?” Rhaenyra asks him.

“That was half a century ago Princess” He answered back looking confused at her question.

“Yes it was” Rhaenyra says and (Y/N) lets a little laugh come out and covers her mouth soon after and everyone in court starts to laugh.

“That was unseemly Princess” Lord Boremund tells her.

“The man is older than my father it’s unseemly for him to put himself forward as a contender for my hand” Rhaenyra tells Lord Boremund.

“Next” Lord Boremund yells out.

A young Lord walks up and Rhaenyra looks around shocked.

“And now a child,” Rhaenyra says.

“The Blackwoods are an ancient house with a formidable army in the River lands they once ruled as Kings. The blood of the first men still flows in their veins…. Go on” Lord Boremund tells Rhaenyra then looks at the young lord and nods to him to continue.

“My Princess ours is a bond that has long endured since Lucas Blackwood the grand sire of my grand sire aided the Dragon in his war of conquest” Lord Willem Blackwood starts to say.

“Aye the Blackwoods truly turned the tide on that one” Lord Jerrel Bracken says while everyone chuckles.

“Coursed with the blood of the first men our history is deeply rooted in this land which your house has made its home if chosen as your match Princess your days shall be easy and nights safe under my protection” Willem Blackwood finishes saying.

“Protection? The Princess has a dragon you dumb cunt” Jerrel Bracken says making everyone laugh at the Lord.

“Bracken” a voice calls out for him.

“I could learn to like that one, let us have the next” Rhaenyra says sighing while Willem stomps off.

“Craven” Jerrel calls out to him.

Willem Blackwood stops and pulls out his sword and so does Jerrel.

Rhaenyra looks at you and Ser Cole then at Lord Boremund “we’re leaving” Rhaenyra says while getting up and pulling you with her.

“Sheathe that steel you twats” Lord Boremund says.

“Send word to the harbor and have Captain Oswin ready the ship” Rhaenyra tells Ser Cole.

“Princess we are due in Bitterbridge in three days' time” Ser Cole says to Rhaenyra.

“I would happily row myself and (Y/N) back to King's Landing if it brought an end to this ridiculous pageant”Rhaenyra says as gasps and cries are heard behind her she and (Y/N) turn around and see the duel has come to an end Willem Blackwood stabs Jerrel Bracken and he falls to the floor and dies.

“Don’t look Princesses” Ser Cole says trying to push you both away from the scene.

The ship ride home was relaxing and smooth for (Y/N) she stayed in her cabin as Rhaenyra walked around the ship, the smooth sailing didn’t last long when the ship swayed violently.

(Y/N) and Rhaenyra race up from the harbor to the carriage as they make their way to the Red Keep.

“Uncle Daemon is back” Rhaenyra tells (Y/N).

“I wonder what father will say to him?” (Y/N) asks Rhaenyra.

The Red Keep

Daemon walks in and everyone is silent as Daemon walks up and is stopped by the KingsGuard.

“Add it to the chair,” Daemon says, throwing a weapon on the floor.

“You wear a crown. Do you also call yourself King?” Viserys asks Daemon.

“Once we smashed the triarchy they named me “King of the Narrow Sea” but I know that there is only one true King You Grace” Daemon says to Viserys and kneels before him.

“My crown and the Stepstones….are yours”Daemon says, taking off his crown and holding out his crown to Viserys.

“Where is Lord Corlys?” Viserys asks Daemon.

“He sailed home to Driftmark” Daemon tells Viserys.

“Who holds the Stepstones?” Viserys asks.

“The tides the crabs and 2,000 dead triarchy corsairs staked to the sand to warn those who might follow” Daemon says to Viserys.

Viserys walks down and takes Daemon's crown and gives it to a guard and looks back at Daemon “Rise” and Viserys gives Daemon a little hug.

“The realm owes you a great debt brother, come” Viserys says, giving Daemon a hug and leading him outside.

Viserys stands by Daemon and Alicent as he tells her stories of their childhood (Y/N) and Rhaenyra walked over to them and smiles at everyone.

“Congratulations on your victory uncle” (Y/N) and Rhaenyra says at the same time to Daemon.

“Thank you Princess’s ” Daemon says looking at you both.

“Perhaps Prince Daemon would care for a tour of the gallery? He hasn’t seen the new tapestries gifted to you by Noruos and Qohor” Alicent says, smiling at Daemon and Viserys.

“Would you like to see the tapestries?” Viserys asks Daemon, laughing.

“He has no interest in such things” Viserys says laughing at Alicent.

“I would like to see them” (Y/N) says looking at Alicent.

“Then you should not deprive yourself” Viserys tells (Y/N).

“Then I shall enjoy them alone” (Y/N) says leaving as Rhaenyra follows her and sits down on a bench as (Y/N) walks into the castle alone like always.

Later that night

(Y/N) walks to her room but hears little Helaena cry’s and (Y/N) walks into the room and sees Alicent holds her and she looks sad and angry and hurt that she can’t get her to stop crying.

“Can I hold her?” (Y/N) asks Alicent.

Alicent gives (Y/N) Helaena and she stops crying as (Y/N) rocks her.

“How did you get her to stop crying?” Alicent asks giving (Y/N) a hug.

“I don’t know I just felt like she needed me so I came and now she’s asleep” (Y/N) says smiling down at Helaena and putting her in her bed and leaving Alicent as she whispers a thank you to (Y/N).

(Y/N) goes to her room and dreams of happy memories not knowing trouble was coming in the morning.

The morning everything changed

Rhaenyra pulls you into her room as you walk out of your and begins to tell you about her night with Ser Cole and how she’s no longer a maiden. As (Y/N) left Rhaenyra’s room (Y/N) could hear Viserys yelling for Daemon so (Y/N) snuck in the hidden passageway and listened to Viserys and Daemon.

“My daughter won’t you even deny it?” Viserys asks Daemon walking around his body as he lay on the floor.

“I need to understand the charge before I can attempt to discredit it” Daemon says looking up at Viserys.

“You defiled her!” Viserys yells out kicking Daemon.

“You still say nothing,” Viserys says, looking down at him.

“What does it matter brother? When we were Rhaenyra’s age we fucked our way through most of the brothels on the street of silk” Daemon tells Viserys.

“We were young men, she is just a girl, your niece,” Viserys says.

“Rhaenyra is a woman grown as is (Y/N). Better her first experience be with me than some whore” Daemon says looking up at Viserys.

“You fucking— you ruined her! What lord will wed her now? In this condition?” Viserys asks while choking Daemon.

“Who gives a fuck what some lord thinks? You are the dragon, your word is truth and law” Daemon says.

“I have spent a lifetime defending you but your heart is even blacker than I thought I should have disinherited her as I already did you and be done with it” Viserys says looking down at Daemon.

“We’d her to me. When I have you my crown you said I could have anything I want Rhaenyra I’ll take her as she is and wed her in the traditions of our house” Daemon says panting.

“You are already wed” Viserys says looking at him.

“That didn’t stop Aegon the conqueror from taking a second wife” Daemon tells Viserys.

Viserys pulls his dagger out and holds it to Daemon's throat “You are no conqueror…… You are a plague…. Sent to destroy me” Viserys says, holding the dagger tighter.

“Give me Rhaenyra to take to wife and we will return the house of the dragon to its proper glory” Daemon tells Viserys.

“Of course it’s not my daughter you list form is it? It’s my throne. Go back to the Vale Daemon to your lawful wife, strive to restore whatever scrap of honor remains in you or don’t matters not to me as long as you are gone from my sight for good” Viserys says leaving Daemon on the floor as he makes his way out of the room.

“As you wish brother” Daemon says slowly getting up from the floor.

(Y/N) walks out and runs to her room and stays there till she hears Alicent call for her and ask her to help with the babies and (Y/N) goes to help and waits for Rhaenyra to come back and tell her what father told her in the meeting they had.

Wait for the sneak peek to part 5 it will get a little crazy I hope you all enjoy.

Taglist: @secretdreamlandmentality @malynn @stargaryenx @urmomsgirlfriend1 @splaterparty0-0 @siriusdumblittlepuppy @devils-blackrose @thefandomimagines @impartinghades @immyowndefender @melissarose234 @lazyotakujen @whitejuliana1204 @elizadj @thanyatargaryen @afro-hispwriter @aegon-andaemondtargaryenslut18 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @hc-geralt-23 @snh96 @animelover18 @danielle-leah1997 @angeliod @lightdragonrayne @talkdiffently6 @yeah-just-a-fan @1950schick @billiesbeans @daemyratwst @impartinghades @nats-whore @dc-marvel-girl96 @noname2246 @targaryenmoony @scarlettqueen190 @slutmeoutsworld @ivanna6026

#daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x y/n #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon smut #winter101youarenother

[shadowtriovibes]

break a sweat: prologue

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Chapter Rating: G [Fic Rating: E]

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: Sebastian Sallow was seven years old the first time he rode a broom.

i'm officially launching my rewrite of the "break a sweat" series as a multichapter fic! please enjoy this new prologue, which sees sebastian receive his first broom.

AO3 permalink: break a sweat

November 7, 1881

Sebastian Sallow was seven years old the first time he rode a broom.

He awoke on the morning of his birthday as he did most days, tucked inside the cozy warmth of the Sallow family’s coastal cottage.

November had arrived in the Highlands, which surely meant that winter was just around the corner. But that morning, the sun shone brightly over the rocky shoreline and the powerful gusts of wind with which Sebastian had become intimately familiar seemed to be holding themselves back.

It was almost as if the wind itself knew that this day was special – that one young boy would soon be meeting one of the greatest loves of his life: flight.

—

Albert and Margeret Sallow had left London with their young children in 1877. The family settled near the Firth of Forth in Ivanbreck, a small wizarding hamlet just outside the Muggle town of Gullane and not more than thirty kilometers from Edinburgh.

Four years later, the children had grown into curious, restless young things whose minds seemed to wander past the walls of their family home and out across the hills and valleys that lined the winding road toward Hogwarts.

Still without their own magic, the twins spent most of their days at their mother’s knee reading books well beyond their years about the study of magic. Sebastian and Anne were both desperate to start school, much to their parents’ bittersweet delight.

When Sebastian blinked awake the morning of this seventh birthday, the first thing he thought to himself was Only four more birthdays until Hogwarts.

Sebastian and Anne tumbled downstairs like a pair of drunken nifflers, slipping and sliding in their thick woolen socks toward the kitchen, where the smell of rich breakfast foods called them in like a siren’s song.

“Mummy!” Anne called out happily, skidding into her mother’s open arms. “It’s our birthday!”

Sebastian nearly collided with the dining table, only to be spared when his father snagged him by the sleeve of his pajamas and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Happy birthday, son,” Albert murmured into his sleep-mussed hair.

Then his mother hugged him as well, pressing seven kisses to each of Sebastian’s cheeks while he giggled delightedly.

“You two are getting so big,” Margeret crooned. “Seven years old, I can hardly believe it!”

“Go on, Maggie, let the boy breathe,” Albert laughed.

His mother had prepared a special breakfast with all the family’s favorites: thick-sliced bacon, oat porridge, juicy sausages, toasted oat bread, and, perhaps most importantly to Sebastian, a basket full of warm tattie scones.

“Make sure you have plenty to eat,” Albert said, winking across the table at his wife. “You’ll be needing your energy this afternoon.”

Sebastian squirmed with excitement throughout the meal as he wondered what his parents had in store for him and his sister. Birthdays were sacred to the Sallow family, and he’d never had one that was anything less than spectacular. (Of course, he could only remember a handful of birthdays at such a tender age).

Would they be going into the city to see the Muggle museum? Or perhaps Diagon Alley to get some new books… Maybe, he thought, just maybe they’ll get to see Hogwarts.

But instead of instructing the twins to get dressed and put on their traveling cloaks, Albert and Margeret simply took their children’s hands and guided them to the sitting room.

Resting on the low table by the fireplace were two long, thin packages wrapped in brown parcel paper and tied up with string. Each package had a small tag hanging from the narrower end: one marked with an S and the other with an A.

Sebastian felt his fingertips start to tingle as he tiptoed toward the table. Is this magic? he wondered to himself. Is it happening now?

“Go on, sweetheart,” Margeret whispered to Anne, who clung tightly to her skirts. “That one’s for you, do you see the ‘A’ on it?”

While Anne gingerly untied the wrapping strings and rolled back the paper, Sebastian eagerly tore into his gift with no thought of preserving its wrappings.

Inside was a riding broom. Shorter than a standard model from the sporting goods shop on the high street, this broom was evidently made for children who had yet to receive their magic. It had shiny metal footrests at the bottom and handles at the top with leather grips. Etched into the top of the broom handle were the words Oakshaft ‘81 – Junior.

Sebastian’s fingers trembled as he stroked his fingers down the length of the polished handle. He could have sworn he saw a handful of sparks flicker from his hands as he lifted the broom, but as soon as he noticed them they dissipated into thin air.

“What do you think, my boy?” Albert asked him proudly.

Sebastian hardly knew what to think. Brooms like this didn’t come cheap, much less two. His parents had always seemed comfortable as young professors, studying magical theory and offering instruction to a handful of local wizarding families with homeschooled children. But a gift like this…

“Thank you,” Sebastian whispered, blinking back tears. “I love it, thank you.”

With a proud smile, Albert scooped up a teary-eyed Anne and asked, “What do you think? Should we take them out for a spin?”

The rest of the afternoon, Margeret watched from the ground with a book in her lap, watching with equal parts maternal joy and anxious fear as Albert circled the twins on his dependable Smethwyck Spinner from the 1870s. To begin, he taught Sebastian and Anne how to kick off from the ground and ascend into the air.

“That’s it!” Albert roared as Sebastian floated fifty feet into the air and spun in a wobbly circle. “Excellent work, Sebastian!”

Anne took a bit more coaching to eventually lift her feet off the ground, but by the time she was giggling nervously and taking slow laps around the cottage, Sebastian had discovered the aerodynamics of forward flight.

“Not too fast, darling!” Margeret called out from below. “Oh, please do be careful…”

Sebastian didn’t touch the ground again for hours. By the time he eventually landed, panting and windswept and deliriously happy, it was nearly time for dinner.

“I take it you like your gift, hmm?” Albert asked with a knowing grin as he helped Sebastian store his broom in the small shed behind the house.

“I love it!” Sebastian exclaimed. “I’m gonna fly every day, and I’m going to be so good – maybe I’ll even play Quidditch!”

“Maybe you will,” Albert said indulgently.

“Dad, did you play Quidditch while you were in school?” he asked curiously.

Albert shook his head. “No, I wasn’t very good back then. I suppose I’m a fair flyer now, but the rest of it – the athleticism – that wasn’t for me. Nearly always had my nose buried in a book back then.”

“You still do!” Sebastian pointed out, and Albert laughed, tossing his head back.

“Aye, I do,” he agreed. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I suppose. But if Quidditch makes you happy, you ought to go after it. There are plenty of things you can’t learn in books, after all.”

—

Sebastian and Anne were orphaned in the spring of 1882. In the end, Sebastian learned that perhaps there was a downside to having your nose buried in a book all day.

Feldcroft was a smaller hamlet than Ivanbreck. Uncle Solomon was less patient than Albert and Margeret, and he hardly had any books in his rather unadorned cottage.

…Sebastian didn’t want to be a professor anymore.

But he still had his broom.

By the time his eighth birthday arrived, Sebastian had already decided that he’d do whatever it took to be the best damn Quidditch player Hogwarts has ever seen.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian x you #sebastian x mc #quidditch!seb #quidditch fic #my fic #break a sweat

[princelylove]

some sbr (and phantom blood!) thoughts for you in general, your highness, if you'll take the words of this lowly peon-- i've been watching some documentaries on the gilded age recently, and a thought came up on me; how would the blorbos of the sbr and phantom blood era handle the societal expectations of the era? like, they can't really be affectionate or anything in public, so i feel like some of the pda/jealous ones would really struggle. plus, it would be inconvienent for them to talk to darling, especially because an engaged couple or even just two single people weren't really allowed to commune with eachother in private in anything other then social occasions. it's a fascinating dilemma, really, and i'd be fascinated to here about how some yanderes from this time period would handle this stuff. your ever faithful, ever loyal, ever miserable peon-- 🌸 anon

Warning for discussion of gender roles, brief homophobia mention I'm not sure if you can count it really, typical yandere things.

What a good ask, peon. When I think of the old American west, I tend to think of those old cowboy movies focusing on the wild west. What a wild three decades. 

We have to consider where exactly they are in the world, and their social standing. Frilly fan language means absolutely nothing to someone who grew up on the streets- Although Dio has studied aristocratic courting rituals religiously. England and the US are different culturally, and the south is very different from the west and north. 

The Gilded age takes place from 1877-1900-ish, doesn’t it? Steel Ball Run takes place right in the middle of that, starting in 1890 and ending a year later. I tend to think of the Steel Ball Run cast as living in the ‘wild west,’ which takes place generally from 1865 to 1895, so it’s perfectly lined up. Phantom Blood’s main story is in 1888, but considering it’s entirely in England, it would be considered late Victorian era rather than the Gilded age. The entire concept of a débutante is so horrifying in a yandere context. If I’m misremembering and the entire concept of presenting a young lady to society for the purpose of marrying her off is not in the late Victorian era, or any of the other information I just presented is incorrect, ignore the inaccuracy. Débutante is used in a gender neutral way here I pinky swear.

Jonathan takes the entire courting process very seriously. Not that he’s any good at formalities, but there’s an attempt. The concept of marriage being something romantic was very new in the Victorian period- but not a foreign concept to Jonathan in the slightest. He grew up with a loving family, his future spouse should be the love of his life. It was generally important to the male identity to be educated, do a sport, and be a gentleman- Jonathan fits every one of those requirements. By all means, he fits in. The only thing stopping him from never getting a second glance is how eager he is to please his darling. “It’s odd how that boy follows his darling around like a dog all day.” is a common statement from those who recognize him happily trotting down the street to go see you- that’s right. He’ll walk instead of taking a carriage. He doesn’t want the visit to feel so formal, he really just wants to spend time with you, even if you aren’t out in society yet. Jonathan thinks it’s going to help his chances of being formally introduced to you when you really become a débutante- but it is not. Gifts, flowers, attention, it all comes off as too much. He mopes a bit when his efforts are proven to be futile, but that doesn’t mean that he’s discouraged. Well, it doesn’t matter, he can always just propose. Why would your parents turn down a proposal from a Joestar, who can take care of you forever? 

Erina tends to be rather shy. She sincerely prays that she’s caught your eye- and does just about everything she can think of to get it. She’s quite the stalker. Your interests are her interests! She’ll show up at any sport you play just to watch you and show you she’s right there to support you, even if she avoids directly speaking to you for quite some time. It’s improper, and she doesn’t want to come across as needy, or socially inept. She can hope, though. Maybe if she just keeps showing up in places she knows you’ll be. The best day of her life is likely the day you come to a débutante ball, assuming you’re of the same social class. She hovers quite a bit, and takes a moment to beg whatever God is out there to introduce you to her. When her wish is granted, she clings to you for the rest of the night, regardless of what is and is not appropriate. 

Dio is a man obsessed with social standing. When you’re denied something for so long, it’s obvious that you’d become infatuated until you get it. Dio’s temperament is closer to obsession; Even when Dio reached his comfortable spot, he still wanted more. He actually takes courting rather seriously in his youth, he does it the proper way. He waits until you’ve been formally introduced to society, and makes his initial move. Just one dance will do. He doesn’t want to come off as desperate- Despite being at every single ball you’ve ever attended, sans one or two for his reputation’s sake. He’ll only visit your home on the proper days, always brings gorgeous, full bouquets, and leaves within forty-five minutes. He’s not about to take up your entire afternoon, but he’s not about to let another suitor talk your ear off for that long, either. Whatever hobby you’ve taken up is his greatest interest for today’s conversation. When you see him in public he’ll offer a polite smile, but nothing more. Of course, this all goes out the window when he turns, since he can just take you with absolutely no repercussions. 

Johnny is always going to treat the world like it’s Danville, Kentucky. His stay in England didn’t have any effect on him development-wise, he sounds like he’s from Kentucky still, too. All that bullshit about waiting around for the chance to dance with his darling is his own personal nightmare- and it isn’t going to happen anytime soon. He has a bit of a ‘modern’ take on dating, if you could call it that. He’s not as obviously affectionate as someone like Gyro, but it’s not like there’s a lack of it. He’ll hold his darling’s hand while you wait in line, he’ll whine until you sit with him on his horse, he can’t sleep unless you’re right there… Johnny’s pretty forward, regardless of what society deems is fine. He’s a good boy, especially in his prime- there’s no reason for your family to not like him. If your family isn’t accepting of him… he doesn’t really want their blessing, anyway.

Gyro has adapted fairly well to life in America, but not when it comes to the culture shock of not being able to cling to his darling constantly. Whether or not his explanation of how being overly affectionate is the norm back home is true is up for debate. He loves to hang on his darling- putting his head on top of yours while you try to talk to some poor stranger is one of his preferred pastimes. Gyro does plan on returning home eventually, but he has some things to do here before he can- one of those things being finding a way to take you back with him. Gyro’s not really put off by getting told to stop, truly, what are you going to do about it? Are you going to get in the way of him and his darling? Don’t be stupid. Gyro will listen to his darling’s request to not have as much pda if you genuinely compromise with him. No pda, but full access to you in privacy? Cool, cool, we’re never going out again. Gyro gets his fill in little ways, he wants to at least hold hands, or be able to put his hand on your waist. You’re seriously denying him what he needs because it isn’t “socially acceptable”?? You’re being ridiculous. Gyro won’t humor silly courting rules because it’s what you’re used to, he’s right here, you’re right here, if the only thing between you is some traditions, then Gyro has nothing in his way. 

Firstly, Hotpants does not really acknowledge societal norms. She’s taking on the “man’s” role in the relationship anyway, so if her darling is feminine, it could pass as a “typical” relationship, as long as she’s presenting herself in a masculine way. She gets weird looks when she goes to get dinner for the two of you- she catches, you cook. People often try to haggle her when she needs to buy new gear, it’s annoying. It’s actually a giant pain in the ass for her, but it’s worth it if it’s to provide for you. Hotpants isn’t really interested in the whole courting process, she’s very quick to snatch her darling up and lock them somewhere safe, even if you're not sure who she is. You can play housespouse for her while she takes care of what she needs to, you’re being given the easy life, is it really that bad? She’s not even forcing you to be affectionate with her- just stay put and listen to what she tells you to do. You can even write to your family, if you want, just know that she’s going to skim it over to make sure it’s appropriate. You’ll even have some time alone while she goes out for the day- interrupted by the sound of her boots and the sight of her jacket hung up by the door. When you are eventually let out- Likely to transport you somewhere else, I cannot see Hotpants letting her darling back out again- she’s a bit cold, but firm. If you can be trusted to sit still, she’ll let you ride her horse while she guides it. If you cannot, she’ll ride with you, arms around your sides.

#I love you Miss Hotpants. #hotpants ♡♡♡ #♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ #request granted #yandere jonathan joestar #yandere erina pendleton #yandere dio #yandere johnny joestar #yandere gyro zeppeli #yandere hotpants #🌸 anon

[sarahwroteathing]

Alarm Clock

[Steve Rogers x Reader]

Word Count: 1877

Summary: Sometimes all you need is a midnight conversation with someone you love.

Warnings: So much softness, I was way too in my Feelings

A/N: More retired Steve because I’m now obsessed. It’s fine. Enjoy it, my lovelies. I appreciate you being so patient with me.

Bingo Fill: Next Generation Fic

There was a time when you wouldn’t have noticed his absence. Or perhaps it was better to say you wouldn’t have been pulled from sleep by it. But you were together all the time now, free to devote as much time and attention as you had to each other. It’s amazing how much you found yourselves learning about each other, even after years together. When there were no cracks for the details to slip through, each quirk, habit, and half-remembered anecdote was a thing of wonder, a personal artifact worthy of careful study. And as your lives became more integrated, new habits arose and new quirks were revealed.

Steve quite liked milk and sugar in his coffee, now that he had time to enjoy it.

You enjoyed reading out loud to him almost as much as he enjoyed listening to it. 

Steve would rather die than eat an artichoke. (Not even remotely true, but you’d laughed so hard at his expression upon taking that first bite that he had complained as theatrically as possible just to prolong your joy.)

And, most relevant now, you were no longer capable of sleeping alone.

You found him at the hall window, shoulders hunched to peer through the small telescope stationed there, a birthday present from Clint.

“What are you doing?”

He straightened up at your voice, turning to you with slight concern.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping or - ” Your words were cut off by an insistent yawn. “Sleeping?”

“Sorry,” he whispered. “Did you get cold? I pulled an extra blanket over you before I left.”

“No I just…” You shrugged. “Felt your absence, I guess.” 

He gave an apologetic smile, going a little soft inside at the reminder that he, plain old Steve Rogers, was still that important to you. 

“I must love you or something,” you said quietly, leaning into him and wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Or something, huh?” he asked, kissing your forehead as you gave as close to a laugh as you could manage in your half-asleep state. “You don’t have to stay up with me, sweetheart. Go back to bed. I’m okay.” 

“Well, I want you to be better than okay,” you answered, shuffling around and guiding him with gentle but insistent hands until he was facing the window again, this time with you pressed against his back, holding him tight like he might wander away otherwise, like there was anywhere else he’d rather be. 

Steve placed a hand over yours on his stomach, stroking his thumb over your knuckles absently. Your sigh landed between his shoulder blades, and he suppressed a shiver. 

“What are we looking at?” you asked.

He hesitated a moment before answering.

“The tree line.”

“Okay.” 

Your hands made a slow journey up his chest and back down, and Steve took a deep breath, matching the motion.

“See anything?”

The street was deserted, unlit houses just barely visible off to the left and right. Your closest neighbors were well separated from you by sizable lots and mature trees. Across the street was undeveloped land, a line of trees and brush that swayed slightly in the wind. There was no other movement, no sign anyone but the two of you were even awake in your little corner of the world. 

“No,” he said quietly. “There’s nothing.”

Your hands made another gentle pass, but you stayed silent. 

“Do we need to talk about this?” Steve asked, turning his head to catch a glimpse of you.

“Maybe. But it can wait.”

For a few minutes you stayed at the window, you with your face buried against his back, placing kisses there when the quiet started to seem too solemn. Steve released a breath he’d been holding for longer than he’d intended, turning in your arms to offer a more complete hug before leading you downstairs.

You trailed along as he checked the doors and windows, only releasing his hand and wandering away when you reached the last one. 

He found you again in the kitchen, two mugs and a plate of cookies balanced precariously in your hands. 

“Can we talk… now?” he asked hesitantly, taking the plate from you before it could tip too far.

Your eyes softened.

“Yeah. Come on.”

Steve followed you to the living room, smiling as you bypassed the couch to sit on the rug instead. He swiped a few throw pillows and a blanket before joining you. 

You whispered a thank you, arranging and rearranging the pillows and snacks several times before Steve resorted to dragging you into his lap. 

“Bossy,” you mumbled through a smile as he pushed the pillows behind him to lean back against the couch with you in his arms. 

“You can move if you want to,” he said, letting out an amused huff when you only snuggled closer, resting your head against his shoulder. 

“I know.”

Steve reached over to take a cookie from the plate, offering it to you.

“Trying to butter me up, Rogers?” you asked.

“Maybe a little.”

“I’m not going to yell at you,” you said, leaning back a little to look him in the eyes. 

“Well. Sometimes I probably need to be yelled at.”

“I don’t think this is one of those times.” You brushed a kiss over his cheek before settling in his arms again. 

Another pause, peaceful. Companionable. A quiet harmony of slow breathing and the rustle of a blanket. Then…

“No one’s out to get you here,” you said softly. “I promise.”

When that only earned a hum of acknowledgement, you changed tactics.

“Well, maybe they are. But only in a sexy way. Or a ‘my yard is better than yours’ way.”

He snorted, and you smiled against his shoulder.

“Jesus. Well, unfortunately for them, I’m happily taken. And I couldn’t possibly care less about our yard. Sorry about that.”

“For not caring about the length of our grass? Pretty sure that just makes you a well adjusted human with reasonable priorities. Besides, I’m happy to keep paying that kid down the street to care about it for us. Less work for us, and he gets money to go to the movies or… I dunno. Buy whatever it is teenage boys buy these days.”

“Yikes.”

“Judgemental,” you scolded teasingly. “What did you buy as a teenage boy?”

“Uh…” Steve let out a thoughtful sigh. “Groceries. Drawing paper. Asthma cigarettes.”

“Asthma -” You broke into giggles, and Steve lightly pinched your arm in rebuke.

“Now who’s being judgemental?”

“I’m not! I… Just, you know. Little hell raiser Steve with his leather jacket and asthma cigarettes.” 

“The leather jacket came later. Woulda been the cheapest suit jacket I could find. Or a patched up winter coat.”

“Sexy.” 

“Oh yeah. The real reason I needed the serum was to fend off all my admirers,” he scoffed.

“Hey, I would have admired you.” you protested quietly. “My favorite things about you have always been the same. Your eyes, always telling me more than you mean for them to. That beautiful smile. Your weird sense of humor.”

“Weird?” 

You laughed, tilting your head to place a kiss on his neck. 

“Yes, weird. But charming. My point is, Steve Rogers has always been a dreamboat. People were just stupid.”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that, so he just held you a little tighter, thought about the locket he gave you on your last birthday. The last time he saw it, open on your nightstand, the picture inside was an old one, when he was still just skin and bone and eyes too big for his face. 

“Now, however, I have competition. Have to glare at people at the grocery store when they stare at you too long.” 

“You don’t have any competition,” Steve argued, hiding a smile in your hair. 

“Bonnie thinks you’re a retired GQ model. She’s very confused by our relationship.”

“Well, Bonnie can mind her own business.” 

“Ooo and last week I heard that Aaron thinks I’m in witness protection, and you’re my Marshal.”

“I don’t think that’s how witness protection works. He thinks we’re faking our relationship?”

“Very Lifetime movie, right?”

He hummed in agreement, a few seconds later adding, “I’d watch that.”

“Yeah, me too.” 

“I think we got a little off topic though,” Steve said with a smile. 

You laughed. “Yes, sorry. We can talk romcoms another time.”

You wiggled around in his lap, sitting up straighter so you could see him better, holding one of his hands in both of yours. You were still smiling, but the humor dissipated, replaced by tender concern. 

“Tell me how you’re feeling.” 

Steve took a deep breath, leaning to rest his forehead against yours for just a moment before speaking. Gathering courage, maybe. Or just comfort. 

“I don’t know. I just get… restless sometimes. And anxious. And I’m not sure where it comes from, but it makes it hard to sleep.”

You hummed, reaching out to stroke his cheek with a delicate touch as you pieced together your answer. 

“You know… There are some mornings that I wake up earlier than I need to. And I roll over and check the clock, and I see that I still have time left. Sometimes thirty minutes, sometimes two hours. And sometimes instead of falling back asleep or snuggling up to my favorite person, I just… lie there. Full of anxiety. Waiting for the alarm to go off. I know it’s going to, and instead of accepting and enjoying what time I have left to rest I just spend it all… waiting.” 

Steve was quiet for a minute, studying your face, letting your words sink in. 

“You think that’s what I’m doing?” he asked. 

“Sometimes,” you said with a shrug. “Maybe. You get in your head and convince yourself something bad must be coming. So you wait for it. Instead of… being present in the time we have.” 

Steve nodded thoughtfully. 

“I think you’re probably right. Sometimes it just… feels weird to be this happy all the time. It doesn’t fit with the pattern of my life before.” His lips tugged into a frown. “That sounds terrible, doesn’t it?”

“I liked the part about being happy all the time,” you whispered with a nudge and a smile. “I really, really liked it.” 

And you very clearly did get joy from his happiness, your tired eyes lit up and a sweet smile gracing your features. A smile that turned into something quieter, almost shy when he leaned in for a kiss. You melted into it, sweet and sleepy. Slow. Perfect.

“So, no more waiting for the alarm clock,” Steve sighed as he pulled away. He didn’t go far, his lips still brushing against yours as he spoke.

“You’re retired, Steve. You’ve got years of pure Saturdays ahead of you,” you said softly. “Just toss the damn thing out the window. You don’t need it.”

“You may have to remind me sometimes.”

“Whenever you need. Just say the word.”

And you stayed like that, just holding each other in the dark living room until you both fell asleep again. 

When Steve woke the next morning, it was to warm sunshine streaming through the windows. To birdsong and the smell of coffee and an extra blanket draped over him by the person he loved.

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I am simply too soft for my own good. How are we feeling, friends? Share your thoughts with me, please. Asks, replies, and reblogs make my world go ‘round 💜

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Tags: @shifutheshihtzu​ @internalbullshit​ @lilasiannerd-blog​ @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory​ @iwillbeinmynest​ @scotlandasshole​ @netflixa​ @hardcorehippos​ @singingprincessstudent​ @sophiealiice​ @blue1928​  @a-book-pressed-rose​ @bbparker​ @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun​ @feelmyroarrrr​  @orangespocks​ @multifandomgirl-us​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @patzammit​ @pato-el-cerdito​

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic #steve rogers one shot

[smartycvnt]

Sacrilege*

Title: Sacrilege

Pairing: Shawn Michaels x Reader

Summary: Shawn has his first experience with pegging.

MINORS DNI, 18+, SMUT WARNING

Word Count: 1877

Shawn's heart raced with a sort of nervous excitement. Tonight had been marked on his calendar for weeks. He knew that you'd give him the option of backing out, but Shawn was past the point of wanting to anymore. He had been working hard to get his mind and body ready. Besides, Shawn had heard that it would genuinely be an eye-opening experience. It wasn't that the sex had gotten boring, but Shawn was always willing to look for something a bit better.

All that Shawn could think about on the drive to Y/n's was how it would feel to have her fuck him. He knew that she had trysts with women in the past, and that she knew how to use a strap-on. Shawn never thought that he'd meet someone who could make him look tame, but Y/n was definitely that woman. She lived up to the nickname she had earned from Vince and the fans. Y/n truly was a "modern woman" in the bedroom by Shawn's standards.

"Don't look so scared. This will be good, you'll like it," Y/n reassured Shawn. He was wearing his nervousness on his face, plain and simple. There were no looks of apprehension or regret, so Y/n brought him up to her room.

Shawn had been there countless times over the course of their relationship. Usually, it felt like a safe space, but Shawn's heart began to pound in his chest when he saw what Y/n would be using on him. Shawn hadn't known what to expect from Y/n's toys, but it definitely wasn't a dildo that was bigger than his own cock. Y/n seemed to pick up on Shawn's shock and led him over towards the bed.

"Don't worry, I won't be trying to force every inch inside of you. I don't fuck like a man," Y/n said teasingly. Shawn huffed a little at the joke, but it really was nice to know that Y/n would be gentle with him. He was able to relax a little bit more and take in more of his surroundings.

"Okay, okay," Shawn breathed out. He glanced around the room, which looked almost the same. There were a few condoms on the bedside table, along with a little selection of lube. Shawn smiled as he remembered Y/n giving him shit about the lack of choices whenever they had started hooking up. Shawn hadn't really thought about that being overly important, but he had learned a lot during his time with Y/n.

"Just sit back and relax baby," Y/n told him. Shawn sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Y/n as she gently pushed him down until he was laying flat. Y/n's movements were slow and methodical, each with the intention of riling Shawn up. The more aroused that he was, the easier the night would be for the both of them.

Shawn's breath caught in his throat as Y/n straddled him. She nearly had him right where she wanted him. A few little pushes of her hips down against his crotch brought Shawn so much closer to where Y/n wanted him. Shawn started to rock his hips up against Y/n's center. His eyes started to close a little, only to shoot open at the feeling of Y/n grabbing onto his cock.

"Shit," Shawn gasped. He had always dreamed of a woman being that forward with him, even if this wasn't the idea scenario. Y/n started kissing along Shawn's neck as she palmed his cock over his pants. She didn't need to do much feeling around to know that he had forgone underwear.

Y/n made quick work of Shawn's zipper and the button above it. Shawn leaned up onto his elbows as he felt Y/n's body move off of his. She stared up at him through her eyelashes, knowing that it drove Shawn crazy when she looked at him like that. Shawn's appreciation was easily apparent by the stiffness of his cock.

Shawn had expected Y/n to move slowly once again, but the woman had always been full of surprises. Y/n took as much of Shawn's cock into her mouth as she could in one go and slowly pulled back. She doted on the tip of his cock as her hand came down to massage his balls. It was a move that Y/n knew Shawn couldn't resist. One that had Shawn writhing beneath her with pleasure.

Shawn's hips bucked forward, thrusting his cock in and out of Y/n's mouth and throat. Y/n kept one hand on his hips, ready to push him back if he got too zealous. She could tell from Shawn's moans as they grew in volume that he was getting close. He was getting lost in himself, which was exactly what Y/n wanted from him. She gave him everything that she could to push him over the edge.

"Oh god! Oh fuck!" Shawn exclaimed as he came. Y/n looked at the mess he had made on himself, knowing that it'd be so much messier later in the night. She grabbed the strap-on off of the bed and walked into the bathroom to get ready.

Shawn's eyes felt heavy as he laid down on the edge of Y/n's bed. He could hear her moving around, and the point of the night had not been forgotten. However, he wasn't sure how quickly he'd be able to recover. Y/n could have some pretty big expectations, ones that Shawn had been struggling to keep up with. He wanted to do everything that she asked of him, but the startling reality of the situation that he wouldn't be able to was starting to hit him.

"Alright, off with it," Y/n told him. Shawn pushed himself to sit up as he stared at Y/n. The robe had been discarded, revealing the intricate lingerie that Y/n had chosen for the night. It left nothing to the imagination, but the red leather straps drew attention from the sheer white lace. Shawn's cock twitched as his eyes landed on the fake cock jutting out from in between Y/n's legs.

"What?" Shawn asked.

"Your clothes. Take. Them. Off." Shawn had never heard such a commanding tone from Y/n before, and it turned him on even more than her outfit had. He would have done absolutely anything that she told him to in that moment, no matter what it was.

Shawn stood up and hastily pushed him pants onto the ground. Y/n watched with amusement as Shawn fumbled with the buttons on his shirt before giving up and ripping it off of his torso. Y/n smiled appreciatively as she ran her hand over Shawn's chest. He puffed it out a bit, something that Y/n was certain was just an instinct at this point.

"I can't wait to make a mess of you," Y/n told him. The words sent a shiver down Shawn's spine. He let out a little groan and looked away from Y/n. She grabbed his jaw and forced him to look at her. Shawn tried to keep his composure as Y/n's hand moved down his torso, but it all went to hell when her hand wrapped around his cock again.

"Please," Shawn begged. Y/n spun him around so that he had his back to her before she bent him over the edge of her bed. Shawn's heart raced as he waited for Y/n to make another move. He swore that his heart was beating so fast that it shook his entire body.

The noise that escaped Shawn's mouth as he felt the first swipe of Y/n's tongue against his asshole would have mortified him in any other scenario. He didn't even know that he was genuinely capable of making noises like that. Y/n ignored the noise and pulled his hips away from the bed slightly as he kneeled down behind him.

The new sensations of Y/n's tongue lapping at his asshole were nothing compared to the gentle press of her finger inside of him. Shawn pushed back against Y/n's finger. His body had immediately responded in a positive way. He wanted more, but he was afraid of what it meant to verbally ask for it. Y/n would never judge him, but that wouldn't stop Shawn from judging himself.

Mentally, everything felt sort of wrong, but that was where the thrill came from. Each moan felt like a betrayal of sorts to him masculinity. It felt sacreligious to be enjoying this nearly as much as he was, and yet, Shawn could't find it in himself to want to stop. Not when Y/n was showing him a side of herself that he hadn't even known was there.

Shawn had only glanced back to see the wild look in Y/n's eyes once as she teasingly pressed the tip of her dildo against Shawn's hole. Y/n kept rubbing it over again and again until Shawn took the hint and pushed back whenever he was ready. He let out a gasp at the feeling of his asshole being stretched to fit around the dildo.

"Shh, it's okay. I'll go slow," Y/n reassured him. Shawn was on the verge of sobbing with pleasure as Y/n very slowly bottomed out inside of him. His hands gripped the sheets beneath him as Y/n wrapped her hand around Shawn's body to grab his cock. She kept the strokes of her hand in time with her thrusts, slowly driving Shawn crazy.

He didn't want to push himself too far, so Shawn didn't beg for Y/n to go faster like he wanted to. He accepted whatever Y/n was giving him. It was obvious that she had done this with other guys before, and Shawn wondered how they had acted in bed with her like this. He hoped that they had gotten just as desperate for her cock as he was getting. He also hoped that he was being good for her.

A quick turn of his head confirmed that Y/n was enjoying herself. Shawn didn't think that he had ever seen Y/n have so much fun in the bedroom. She looked like she was exactly where she wanted to be as she slowly thrust in and out of him. Shawn's heart warmed at the sight, and the warmth quickly spread throughout his body. Before he knew it, Shawn was cumming once again, faster than he had known possible to do more than one time in a night.

"That's it, shh, you've done so good," Y/n cooed softly. She pulled out of Shawn and helped him onto the bed fully. Y/n took in Shawn as he laid on her bed, panting and blissed out. She was proud of herself for what she had achieved, hopeful that Shawn would come to her later on asking for them to do that again. Even if he didn't, Y/n would spend years thinking about this night and how good it had felt to make Shawn cum like that.

#one shot #my writing #shawn michaels x reader #shawn michaels #wwe x reader #wwe

[buckybarnessunflower]

The Spectacular N O W

Summary: You and Bucky have feelings for one another, that everyone can plainly see but the two of you. A mission goes horribly wrong and Bucky is faced with the reality that he may have waited too late. But when lovers are destined to be together something spectacular happens.

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Word Count: 1877

Warnings: Angst ! so much angst ! Bucky heartbroken and depressed. Violence

The Hydra base was poorly lit, lights constantly flickered making it hard to decipher when a Hydra agent was lurking in the shadows. John had disobeyed your orders and decided to go further into the base, a few of the SHIELD agents who wanted to impress their second in command followed him. 

The mission was a shit show to put it simply.

You could hear their screams as they were attacked from all angles, they had walked right into an ambush. 

“Stay where you’re at Y/n, they can’t sneak up behind you” Sam said but the signal was getting choppy. You winced as static came through the comms when he tried to tell you something else.

“What did you say, Sam? You’re breaking up” more static was heard and then silence.

Total and complete silence.

You were in enemy territory and you had just lost all communication with your team.

Sweat rolled down the side of your face, you were trying so hard to not start hyperventilating in front of the SHIELD recruits. You could tell they were scared from how wide their eyes were and how they shook all over.

“Oh God we’re going to die” one of the girls said with tears in her eyes as the screams down the hallway increased.

“No we’re not. We’re getting out of here alive” you said, hoping that you wouldn’t let them down.

All of a sudden a bomb went off nearby, your line of sight got even worse as smoke filled the hallway, your ears ringing from being so close to the explosion.

You could hear a few male voices yelling in Russian followed by rounds of gunshots.

“I NEED HELP” You heard John yell making you curse under your breath. No matter how much he annoyed you, you couldn’t leave him there to die.

“Okay team, listen up this is now a rescue mission” you said, turning to look back at faces that were young, too young to die on a mission in the middle of nowhere.

Taking in a shaky breath you led your small team down twist and turns, keeping close to the walls to keep the enemy in front of you.

Masked men and women jumped in front of you, guns aimed on your chest but you were quicker pulling the trigger of your own sniper, slitting throats open with your knives.

It was kill or be killed, years of being Natasha and Bucky’s partner helped to quicken your reflexes.

You could feel blood splatter on your face but you didn’t blink, you didn’t want to risk missing one of them. 

Lives were on the line, lives that you had been tasked with protecting, you couldn’t let them down.

Bucky’s face flashed in your mind. It was a fleeting thought but you hoped you made it out so one day maybe one day soon you could confess how you felt.

Finally you made it to a long hallway, wires sparked from up above where bombs had went off, you could smell burning flesh and had to swallow back the bile that threatened to come up. The men and women you passed by, both from your team and Hydra agents, had been badly burned, skin charred and kevlar suits soaked in blood.

John was kneeling in the middle of it all, you couldn’t see his face but you could see he still had his weapon.

“John” you called out, weary of getting any closer. It was eerily quiet now, shivers running down your spine as you tried to look for any signs of Hydra agents.

It didn’t matter how much you strained your eyes, you were unable to see anyone besides John. Your eyes were starting to burn and water from the thick smoke that still hung heavy in the air. The agents behind you were coughing, their lungs not used to having to be in harsh environments yet.

“Y/n it’s good to see you” you heard a raspy voice speak from somewhere hidden in the darkness.

Your senses were heightened, dialed to eleven as you tried to spot where the voice was.

“I can’t say the same about you” You said, just as a cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows then about a dozen others stood behind him.

They all had snipers trained on the agents cowering behind you, red dots on their chest or heads, each one would instantly kill them.

If it were physically possible your heart would have beat straight out of your chest, your ribs not able to contain it. You could picture it in front of you, still beating wildly, trying desperately to get back to the compound where you had yet to give your heart to the man you wanted to.

You didn’t know if you were even breathing, you only knew that your lungs were aching like they were unable to fill themselves.

Breathe. 

Breathe.

Breathe.

You tried to tell yourself to do it, it was a simple command but it felt like your throat was beginning to close in on itself.

You knew what you had to do and if you were being honest you were scared to death about what it was.

You could hear Bucky in the back of your mind beg you not to do it but lives were at stake and YOU were the one in command. 

You hoped he could forgive you.

You dropped your gun along with your knives and raised your hands in the air in surrender.

Every sniper was now trained on you, aimed at your heart that felt like it was no longer there.

The man in the middle raised his hand, the guns lowered but you knew their fingers were still on the trigger.

“Let them go” You heard yourself say, in your peripheral vision you saw Red Wing turn its lens onto you.

The man in the middle smiled sinisterly, this had been their plan all along.

He made a hand gesture and one of the agents walked up to John and cut him loose. John made a run for it, only caring that his life was being spared.

The agents surrounded you, pushing you down to the ground, bending and twisting your arms. You had to bite your tongue to keep from screaming out in pain.

They yelled at you in a thick Russian accent, you were begging your mind to remember the Russian that Bucky had tried to teach you late one night. They were talking too fast for you to follow and their accent too thick to grasp on to any words.

You saw Red Wing hovering by the SHIELD agents, your heart was racing. You didn’t know what Hydra had in store for you but you had to let Bucky know how you felt. 

Even if this was the last moment he would ever see you alive you wanted him to at least know that he had your heart.

“Bucky-” you had started, tears welling up in your eyes but then darkness consumed you when one of the men hit you at the base of your skull, knocking you out.

Bucky felt like he was underwater, he ran from the monitor room, his feet carrying him but he didn’t know where. His body collided with walls, tables, and people but he felt nothing. Pictures fell from the walls, vases lay shattered from tables, and people grabbed at their shoulders where Bucky shoved past.

He didn’t know how long it had been since he had taken a breath. Maybe it was when you had called out to him. Maybe it was when you had been taken. Maybe it was when Red Wings video feed went dark. He didn’t know when it was but he felt lightheaded. His vision was becoming spotty but still his feet carried him further in the compound.

He needed something.

The desperation was there, he could feel it clawing up his back.

He fell, his body lay on the tiled floor and that was something he could focus on. He could focus on how cold it felt.

He could focus on the tiny specks that littered each tile.

He took a shaky breath in and then he was crawling along the floor.

He had never felt so broken before, even when Hydra had broken him down and wiped his mind.

He crawled past his bedroom door, his lungs still burning for more air.

That’s when he saw it, your room.

The room directly beside his, over the years he had spent more time in there then he had in his own.

Bucky could only find enough strength to shakily reach up to the handprint analyzer in hopes of accessing your room.

“Welcome Sergeant Barnes” a robotic voice said before your door opened.

Only when he made it in your room could he take a deep breath in.

Your scent surrounded him.

A heart-shattering sob tore through his body as tears ran down his face into the plush carpet.

Bucky’s hands both real and metal, gripped into the fabric of the carpet, trying so hard to reel in his emotions that were spiraling out of control.

“Sergeant Barnes' heart rate has accelerated dangerously high” Bucky heard Friday speak over the intercom system.

It was a matter of seconds before Sam and Steve were right by his side trying to get him up off the floor but he swung at them wildly. His fist connected with jaws, cheekbones, and eyes as he fought to get out of their grasp.

“NO” he screamed, surprising himself at his outburst.

Steve and Sam immediately let him go.

“Leave me alone” he said, his voice cracked and his throat felt raw.

“Buck we’re going to find her I prom-” Steve had started to say but was cut off when Bucky slammed his fist on the ground.

A picture fell from off your bedside table to right beside Bucky but he didn’t even flinch.

He looked at Steve with tears in his cerulean blue eyes, he was heartbroken and he didn’t know if he could handle not finding you.

He should have been there with you.

It was always you and him on every mission together except for this one and now you were gone.

Sam could see Bucky was going into a dark place, he had seen the same look of despair in his own eyes when he had lost his best friend Riley.

“Buck you need to breathe man, c’mon take a deep breath, just focus on me” Sam said calmly as he over exaggerated his breathing so Bucky could follow along. 

They did that for close to an hour, Bucky’s eyes were half lidded by the time they finished. His body had been in fight or flight mode for so long that he had exhausted himself. The tension in his shoulders and back left as he slowly started to relax, he could feel sleep try to drag him under but he was fighting it.

He needed to find you! He needed to do something! He….. He……. He needed to sleep. Steve had grabbed one of your pillows and placed it under Bucky’s head, your scent helping to calm him down and lull him to a somewhat peaceful sleep.

<Prev. Chapter Next>

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #marvel imagine #steve rogers #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagines #bucky angst

[aquietwritingcorner]

Don't Go Where I Can't Follow

Title: Don’t Go Where I Can’t Follow Day: Whumptober 2023, Day 16 Prompt: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?” Gurney/Flatline/ “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”  Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist Word Count: 1323  Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: T  Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang Warning: NA Summary: A few years after the Promised Day, Mustang has a chance to ask Hawkeye the same thing she asked him to promise all those years ago. “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”    Notes: Fun fact! The electrocardiogram has been around since about 1877, if my research is correct. It, of course, wasn’t as good as the ones we have today, nor was it in common use, as it was brand new at that time, but since the bulk FMA takes place in 1914-1915, and they already have advances like automail, I figured it’s not unreasonable to think that heart monitors were starting to be used in hospitals! However, CPR wasn’t invented until the 1960s, and shocking hearts through the chest wasn’t done until 1957. So those two things I am most definitely just fudging and saying that the FMA world invented them earlier than we did. AO3 || ff.net

___________________________________

Don’t Go Where I Can’t Follow

“We need help!”

Havoc’s voice boomed through the emergency room. Mustang leaned heavily on Breda as they quickly limped after Havoc, who was carrying an unconscious and injured Hawkeye. Mustang could hear Falman and Fuery coming in after them, Fuery keeping a hold of Hayate.

His eyes, though, were only on Hawkeye. She was limp, pale, with electrical burns, and from this angle he couldn’t even tell if she was breathing. His eyes didn’t leave her. They couldn’t. Not without knowing if she was going to be alright.

A doctor rushed over and Havoc’s call, calling for a gurney that was already being pushed over by an attentive nurse. Havoc carefully laid Hawkeye down on it, quickly explaining to the doctor what had happened.

“She took an electrical shock, pretty bad,” Havoc said, sweeping dripping hair out of his eyes. “That was after she was soaked.”

The doctor grimaced, even as he was examining her. “Get her back to a bay!” he snapped at his team. “Get cardiac down here, stat! Get someone to see after the rest of them.”

“I’m staying with her,” Mustang said.

The Doctor was already moving off with the gurney. “No. You’ll just be in the way, sir.”

“I’m staying with her,” Mustang growled. There was no way that he was leaving Hawkeye’s side, not after she took that hit for him.

He could still see it. The alchemist had already blown a water main, soaking them. It had been a strategic move, as, as soon as he had a chance, the man had sent a blast of electricity at Mustang. Hawkeye must have anticipated it, because she had thrown herself in front of it, taking the shock herself. Mustang would never forget her scream, and the way she had dropped to the ground, unmoving as soon as the electricity left her body. Havoc had seen his opportunity in the midst of the man’s action, and had shot the man dead, ending his alchemy. The rest of the team had taken some hits, but none as bad as she did. Havoc had scooped Hawkeye up, Breda had thrown Mustang’s arm over his shoulder, and they had all rushed to the hospital.

The doctor made a dismissive noise and promptly ignored Mustang, clearly not having time to deal with him right now. Instead, he focused all of his attention on Hawkeye. Breda and Mustang followed after the gurney, Mustang watching anxiously as the nurses and doctor began their assessment of her.

“Get me vitals on her now!”

“IV line is in.”

“Breathing is erratic.”

“Pulse is erratic.”

“She’s got burns—at least on her arms.”

“Strip her down and check elsewhere.”

“On it!”

“Where’s cardiac!”

“Here!”

Three men rushed in, pushing some sort of device that Mustang had never seen before. One man directed a nurse to cut away Hawkeye’s shirt. Another immediately started hooking wires from it up to Hawkeye’s chest.

“What is that?” Mustang demanded, as he saw a needle on the machine begin jerking around, making a squiggling mark on a strip of paper.

“New technology,” one of the men said. “It’s called an electrocardiogram. It can monitor what a patient’s heartbeat looks like.” The man grimaced as he looked at Hawkeye’s readings. “Oh, that’s not good.”

Mustang looked at the squiggles, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He didn’t know what a normal one would look like, but apparently, the small, erratic squiggles that jumped around on the page were not good things.

“Heart and lungs first!” the doctor said. “Burns later.”

“Uh-oh,” the man who was watching the strip of paper said. Mustang looked at it, watching as the needle stopped moving and started drawing a single, straight line instead. “She’s flatlining!” the man yelled.

The doctor cursed, and Mustang lurched forward, only held back by Breda. “What does that mean!” demanded.

“It means that her heart stopped,” the doctor snapped out.

Mustang felt like his own heart stopped in that second. No. No! No, she couldn’t die! It was like the Promised Day all over again. She was dying in front of him and there was nothing he could do. Mustang’s breath caught in his throat.

“Bag her! Get CPR started! Cardiac, get that thing ready!”

“Already on it!”

A nurse had climbed on top of the gurney and was already doing compressions while another applied a mask with a bag on it to Riza’s face. There was a building whine in the background.

Mustang wanted to lunge forward, to grab at Hawkeye’s bedside and beg her not to leave, like he had all but done once before. He hadn’t cared then who had seen, and he didn’t care now. The only things keeping him from doing that were his ribs, and the firm grip Breda had on him.

“It’s ready!”

“Everyone stand clear!” the doctor ordered, and Breda pulled Mustang back a step. Mustang’s chance had passed.

They both watched as all of the medical staff pulled away, and the cardiologist laid two metal plates on Hawkeye’s chest. As soon as they touched her, Hawkeye jerked as if she had been shocked. He pulled them back, and looked at the one who was looking at the strip. He waited a second, then shook his head. The plates were laid down and Hawkeye jerked up again. Again, the strip stayed in a flat line. Once again, the plates were laid down and Hawkeye jerked up. This time, though, the man called for them to wait. The needle moved a bit, and then, suddenly settled into a very specific and repetitive pattern.

“Normal sinus rhythm!” he said after a moment, and everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Pulse is steady. Breathing is returning to normal.”

“Okay,” the doctor said. “Let’s keep an eye on that and attend to her burns.” He glanced back at Mustang and Breda. “She’s alive and stable at the moment. You two need to leave and be seen yourself.

Slowly, Mustang nodded, attempting to straighten up, but wincing as his ribs protested it. “Of course,” he said. “But keep me updated.”

The doctor made some sort of affirming response, but before Mustang could demand more, Breda was pulling him away. Another doctor was standing nearby, and Mustang let himself be let to another bay. The doctor ended up sending him for x-rays, and it was discovered that, as Mustang thought, he had broken some ribs. They were wrapped up, and he was sent back to wait with the rest of his men, who had also been seen by this point.

It seemed like hours before the doctor finally came to see them. They were all relieved to find out that Hawkeye was likely going to be fine, although they did want to keep her a few nights for observation. Mustang was allowed to go see her, and he did, with Breda and Havoc following to stand guard.

Mustang pushed open the door to Hawkeye’s room. It was quiet, with Hawkeye lying asleep on the bed. Mustang pulled up a chair and carefully sat beside her, reaching out to take her hand.

For a moment, he just held it, looking her over as he did. Finally, he let out a breath and bowed his head. He was silent, words stuck in his throat until finally one phrase escaped him, one that echoed something she had said to him only a few short years ago.

“Don’t go where I can’t follow,” he said. “Do you hear me, Riza Hawkeye? Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

She had made him promise that once to her, and now he’d make her make the same promise to him.

“Don’t go where I can’t follow. Even if it means that we give up and spend the rest of our days lying around, and forgetting about the world around us, I’ll stay next to you. So don’t go where I can’t follow.”

#Whumptober 2023 #no.16 #Don't Go Where I Can't Follow #Fullmetal Alchemist #FMA #fanfic #riza hawkeye #roy mustang

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 13. Repetitive Carols

Pairing: Turpin x Wife!Reader

POV: Second, Reader

Setting: London

A/N: So, let’s leave the magic of Hogwarts behind for a bit and jump over to the biter English winter in London today. I had quite a rough time coming up with a story for this prompt, I don’t know why but I guess after so many days of coming up with new Christmas fics and having written quite a few long ones in the past few days I was a bit tapped out. However, I do think you will enjoy this one even if it’s not until the very end that things turn bright.

And, I would like to add a small note here as well… If you don’t mind…

I hope that these fics offer you something during this cold and harsh December. All around the world people are struggling - hell, I’m sitting with three layers of clothing on, thick socks, slippers, a warm wheat bag under the blanket draped over my legs as the heating is just too expensive - and I know money is tight, for many of us this year with the inflation and sky-rocketing expenses of everything.

So, I hope these fics grant you something to look forward to, something to be excited about, something that offers you a feeling of being connected with others around the world. For we are all connected. We are all in this community together and I wish I could do more, be more, offer more. But I do not have anything but my hard work, creativity and words to offer during these hard times. I’m giving every spare minute I have to RICKMAS, late nights, early mornings, lunch breaks - all of it. And, to see you here - your comments, your reblogs, your likes and the tags you add - warms my heart. It makes me so happy to know that you wish to spend your time reading my words and communicating your thoughts and feelings about it in return too.

Thank you, for warming my heart and being here with me. I am ever so grateful for this little community of ours where we share love, friendship and support. I really wish you all the best and for these hard times to pass ❤

+A/N: I know the gramophone wasn’t invented until 1877 but this is fiction so we are just moving that invention a few years for the sake of this fic - so don’t come for me about that 🙈😂

Tags/TW’s: Kissing, Anger, Guilt, Worry, Lots Of Love, Taking Responsibility.

Word Count: 2.7k+

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

You couldn’t help but feel protected and comfortable on his arm. Strolling through London could be dangerous, but not with your dear husband so close by — who would ever dare to bother you as the wife of Judge Turpin with him right there? None.

However, he appeared to have lost some of the initial warmth and joy from when you had first asked him to take a stroll through the buzzing city with market stands on each square, big or small. For nearly two hours you had been walking about with your butler, Mr Stokes, a few steps behind carrying everything your husband had graciously acquired for you. No item was too small and no price was too high when it came to spoiling you.

That had been hard to deal with at first, the guilt of suddenly being presented with all things you had ever wished for and far more than you could ever need. But he had insisted, time and time again, that you deserved it. That he wished to lavish you with gifts and that it brought him joy to provide for you in every manner possible.

However, something was bothering him no. You could feel the annoyance radiate from him in a manner you had not previously experienced. “Angel, perhaps something hot to drink?” you asked, wondering if it could perhaps lighten his mood with something warming. “If you wish,” he said in a dark murmur. “Are you fairing?” you asked quietly and he glanced down at you, raising a brow towards the rim of his black tophat. “You seem, out of sorts, perhaps we should return home?” You continued in less than a heartbeat. “When you are ready to return, we will do so.” “But I—” “Love, I am well aware you adore this time of year, so when you are ready, we shall return.”

You tilted your head and looked at him, nodding after a moment while he smiled in a restrained way — as he usually did when you were out and about where others were present. I still feel as if something is not right with you. Perhaps I should say I’m tired?

The sound of a children's choir reached you that moment when you turned onto a bigger street leading to the main square. Oh, such a lovely sound, you thought to yourself and smiled as the sound grew louder while you walked on. The smell of hot chocolate was in the air, people calling out prices and haggling being done by each stand you passed until you reached the giant tree where a small platform had been placed for the choir to stand on.

“Isn’t it lovely?” you said in a manner that was a question yet also a statement. “Mmh,” Richard murmured in a slight drawl while you both stopped to listen to the children sing. “Mr Stokes, if you please, a pound for them,” you said and your ever-jolly butler scurried forward to place the coin in the bin collecting money for one of the orphanages in London.

You smiled at the children while Richard seemed to stiffen beside you, becoming further annoyed it seemed. You glanced up at your most beloved grump of a husband who wielded far more power in the city than you could truly understand. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes cold and harsh while his pale skin held a slight hint of pink from the biting English winter. Something was most certainly wrong. He never acted in such a manner when you were on his arm unless someone said or did something he took offence at.

“Darling, are you sure you’re—” “Love, stop,” he gritted without looking at you. It stunned you for a moment as he never spoke in such a manner to you. He never withheld his attention from you either.

You felt your shoulders droop as you looked away from him, unable to hide the slight hurt marring your facial features while you looked at the singing children. “I’m tired, Richard,” you said quietly. “Can we return home, please?” “As you wish,” he said in yet another grumpy drawl and wasted no time turning the two of you around to march towards your home not too far away from the square with its prime location. Mr Stokes were hot on your heels, balancing the packages and basket he had been clever enough to bring for smaller items, most likely Mrs Marsh’s idea. She’s such a good housekeeper, and certainly thinks ahead each and every time. I wonder if she’s had time to bake those Christmas cookies she spoke of this morning?

The thought of those sweet treats made you smile for a moment as the two of you turned the corner and your home became visible. Richard was still stiff and cold beside you thought so that smile quickly vanished while your hand tensed around his arm.

Mr Stokes opened the door for the two of you and stepped aside. The house was beautifully decorated, thanks to you and the staff, and it felt wonderful to be back in the warmth. Only, you still felt cold when your husband behaved so strangely with you. He had never behaved in such a manner before.

“I shall be in my office,” he announced while rather quickly switching his boots and taking off his outer layers before you had barely had time to unbutton your winter cloaks two buttons at your upper chest. “Would you like some—” “No.”

You blanched at his interruption, stunned at the harsh tone of his voice. He stalked off before you even had a chance to ask what was wrong. “Are you alright, my Lady?” Mr Stokes asked which brought you out of the stunned state. “I don’t understand what’s gotten into him,” you confessed while removing your outer layers and switching your shoes for a more comfortable pair of slippers lined with fur to keep the chill of the floors away from your feet.

“Ah, my Lady,” Mrs Marsh said as she came from the hallway leading to the kitchen, “you have returned. And at just the right time,” she continued with a broad smile making her wrinkly face look happy. “Oh? Time for what?” you asked, feeling a bit warmer under her smile. “The first batch has just come out of the oven, piping hot, as you like them, my Lady,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes and you beamed at her. “Well, what are we waiting for? Lead the way!”

You groaned and hummed at the delicious treat as you bit off the head of a reindeer-shaped one. “So good, you are a fabulous baker, Elenora!” you called out to the housekeeper. It wasn’t quite proper to call the staff by their given names, and you had agreed to only do so in the house when no guests were present. “Thank you, my Lady,” she smiled as she pulled out the second batch from the wood-heated oven. “Can we turn on some music?” you asked the butler who beamed at you and instantly turned to start the gramophone already loaded with a disc of Christmas music.

The very same song you had heard all over town during the stroll played, filling the house with music while the smell of Christmas cookies wafted through the air. You had nearly forgotten about your husband's bad mood while you danced around the kitchen to a sweet carol when thumping, rushed steps grew louder.

“TURN THAT INFERNAL RACKET OFF!” Richard shouted in fury from the doorway. His dark baritone voice cut through the air like thunder overhead, making the air vibrate and your body stiffen. His cold eyes glared at the gramophone before he stalked over in long strides and yanked the disc out of it, throwing it on the floor.

Your breathing turned ragged as you backed away from the man you didn’t recognise. Never had he raised his voice in your presence. Never had he glared at you with such anger. Never had he acted with such fury in the proximity of you.

The joy seeped out of you instantly, the warmth in the previously happy kitchen stolen in a mere second. Mr Stokes and Mrs Marsh back to the stoic staff members you had met when you first came to London nearly a year ago. Their heads bowed, their bodies stiff under Richard’s glare for those three seconds he stood in the kitchen.

Your bum hit the back of the long table for preparations, your chest felt tight and for the first time a sliver of fear shot through you because of him. He looked so, enraged. Dangerous. And then he turned on his heel and rushed out of the kitchen with gritted teeth and clenched fists. “What in the world,” you asked the universe as you looked after the man you had never thought capable of looking at you with such fury in his eyes.

Your hands shook as you looked towards the disc on the floor, having skidded along the stone it was most likely ruined. Tears began to rim your eyes. “Now, my Lady, you’re alright,” Mrs Marsh said quietly as she stepped around the table while you tried to speak — opening and closing your mouth without a single noise leaving you. “You’re alright,” she said once more as she took one of your trembling hands in her warm and slender one, the other she stroked your back soothingly as your breaths turned into short pants the moment tears began to roll down your cheeks.

You looked at her. “He’s never-, he’s never-,” you began to say but your weak voice never turned into a sentence. “I know, it’s alright,” she said gently. “His Lordship struggles with Christmas. It is not your fault, my Lady,” she comforted but it didn’t feel right. He had been happy when you decorated the house, he’d been happy when you put up the tree, he’d been happy when you presented him with the stocking you had ordered for the fireplace with your name and his stitched on them.

“Now, let’s get you a warm bath, my Lady. You are shivering.” You nodded at her words, knowing full well both of you knew better. You weren’t shivering. You were trembling. Yet you allowed her to lead you to the bathroom two floors up. Allowed her to sit you down on the chair in the room while she filled the tub with steaming water. Allowed her to help undress you and assist you as you stepped into the water a moment later. All while your mind ran rampant, wondering what had happened to your husband and the happy mood he had been in for the past couple of days when Christmas had been all around him.

“I shall start supper, I’ll return in a moment to help you get dressed, my Lady.” “Thank you,” you whispered as you sank down further into the warm water, allowing it to reach your chin and cover you completely with warmth. It helped very little though.

After a while, you began to hum on one of the carols you’d heard over and over during the day, one of your favourites. The bath soothed you slowly but your heart hurt at the way your husband had acted, at how he had frightened you for the first time ever.

A knock came from the door and you stopped humming. “You can just come in, Elenora!” you called, but as it opened it wasn’t her. Richard stood in the doorway, his shoulders slumped and the harshness gone from his face. “Richard,” you said as he stepped inside the humid room and closed the door behind him. He looked at a loss. Much unlike your commanding and decisive husband, the man you loved so dearly despite all his faults and flaws.

“Love, I…” His words died out quietly while he avoided looking straight at you. It hurt seeing him look so lost, so uncertain. But the furious manner he had acted in a while ago still lingered in your head.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward until he sank down on one knee by the edge of the tub. “Love, I am sorry. I did not mean to behave in such a manner,” he confessed quietly, his baritone voice barely above a murmur while he kept avoiding your gaze, as if he felt ashamed of himself. “You frightened me,” you said. “Why did you act in such a way? You’ve never-, with me you have never behaved like that,” you continued and he sighed deeply. “I apologize,” he pushed out, worry evident in his dark voice. “Tell me why instead,” you prompted while reaching your soaked arm out only to grasp his hand with yours despite the water dripping from your skin.

He squeezed your hand before lifting it to his thin lips, placing the softest of kisses edged by some harsh resolve. “The carols,” he said and looked up at you, finding your eyes for the first time. “The carols?” “Yes,” he murmured, “the damned, repetitive carols.” “You don’t like music? But you play so beautifully, Richard.” “No, love, it’s not music. Merely, carols,” he gritted while looking down at your hand in his. “You don’t like carols?” “Every year, over and over, the same carols. The same tunes, the same words, the same notions of joy to the wretched world we inhabit. Over and over. Every damned year.”

It made sense. Your husband wasn’t fond of traditions, he wasn’t fond of repeating things or having to repeat himself beyond his daily breakfast habits or listening to anyone communicating something he had heard before. He abhorred words spoken more than once when they did not offer new meaning or a truth of some sort. Partly due to your occupation I presume. And he certainly wasn't fond of the world, which he'd confessed to being a gloomy and dreary place before he met you. Meaning every Christmas the world sang about joy he had been deep into the darkest depths of it. 

“I didn’t know, angel,” you said, trying your hardest to see it from his perspective when you yourself loved the comfort and security of repetitive things, traditions, habits and words spoken over and over in reassurance. In love with Christmas and the warmth it had always offered you when the world turned kinder.

“I won’t play carols at home again. I’m sorry, Richard. I truly didn’t know,” you said gently and he looked at you once more, his features softer and less creased as his worry melted away under your words. “You are blameless, love,” he said. “I should not have allowed myself to get to that point. You asked me if I was fairing and I avoided admitting the truth, and then you took some of the annoyance, the anger I had pent up. I am the only one to blame, not you. And I truly am so sorry, love.” You smiled at him, vowing to keep your home a carol-free place in the future for his sake.

“Thank you for being honest with me, Richard. For taking responsibility for your emotions and actions,” you said and leaned towards him. He met you halfway, your lips touching and instantly your heart fluttered. “You are the most wondrous woman, my love. I am most sorry, and I love you most dearly. Your patience with me—” he sighed deeply and pecked your lips once more “—is beyond what I deserve.” “Oh, Richard, you deserve all the patience when you work so hard to be open with me. I know you struggle with it, I know it’s hard for you. But one repetitive thing you can always count on is my love for you,” you said with a small giggle at his half-smile that softened everything about him. “That is something I do not mind being repetitive, as I do not mind hearing you speak the words over and over, every day, my sweet.”

“I love you,” you said, just to tease him. He chuckled and looked at you with wonder in his eyes. “I love you as well.” “And no more carols in this house,” you laughed out as you tugged on his hand to get him even closer, your noses touching. “Except when you sing them, love… Anything spoken in your voice is beautiful music to my ears.” “Richard…” you breathed out, tears in your eyes at his lovely words spoken with ringing truth.

Then, he kissed you. He drew you in without caring about his clothes getting wet while he held you tightly with only the rim of the tub as a barrier between the two of you.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

A/N: I hope this tugged on your heartstrings a bit darling 💚 Sometimes people own up to their mistakes, their wrongs, and I find it beautiful to have the courage and strength to do so. And, when it happens, I find it just as beautiful when the wronged offer forgiveness and understanding when the regret is honest. Forgiveness takes strength - both to ask for it and gift it - but I find more often than not that when it is done genuinely, things tend to sort themselves out one way or another.

Taglist: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @elizabeth-baelish @severuslovebot @leah1243 @thethotthatbreathes @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @commodoreseverus  @reinekefoxart @reiketsunomizunomegami @lokisbjchn

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2022]

#rickmas2022 #rickmas #judge turpin #turpin #turpin x reader #sweeney todd #alan rickman #rickmaniac #rickman #christmas #christmas fic #fanfiction #writing #fanfic #deepperplexity fic #deepperplexity #plex

[count-alexei-vronsky]

🚬Count Vronsky's RP Blog💎

Will contain: Alexei is a homewrecker. (Though I like to be delusional and say that was probably a one time occurrence? Maybe??) Anywayss- Murder (probably), violence, possible NSFW, swear words??? Drinking, smoking, guns, he was in the war I believe

Age: 22-24

Height: 5'11

Gender: Male, He/Him

Set in: Russia, 1877

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Poppycock And Bunkum: Here Are 19 Myths That Cincinnati Refuses To Give Up

Cincinnati loves a good story, and we certainly have some doozies. Some of our favorite stories about our favorite town are actually true. Some of our dearest and most treasured stories, however, persist despite a complete lack of evidence and not an iota of proof. Among them:

Cincinnati is located upon seven hills. To be geologically technical, Cincinnati has no hills at all, only valleys. The central basin in which our downtown is located is surrounded by what geologists call an eroded peneplain. In other words, our town occupies a glacially scoured, level plain into which streams have cut a network of valleys. What we count as “hills” are just tongues of this surrounding plain extending into the central valley – and once we start counting those, there’s no stopping. One recent survey has identified at least 80 named Cincinnati “hills.”

A woman named Ida Martin, who lived in a hollow sycamore tree and did laundry for the soldiers at Fort Washington, gave her name to Mount Ida, later renamed Mount Adams. It is authentically reported, by an eyewitness, that a woman who did laundry for the soldiers at Fort Washington lived in a hollow sycamore tree on the slopes of what later became Mount Adams. However, that source does not give her name. There was a domestic servant named Ida Martin who lived on what later became Mount Adams, but this was long after Fort Washington had been demolished, this woman was not a laundress and she lived in a cabin, not a hollow tree. Mount Adams was previously known as Mount Ida, but that nickname was a reference to classical mythology, not to any woman who lived in the area. Somewhere along the line, these three separate facts got conflated into a treasured Cincinnati fable.

Arnold’s Bar opened on Eighth Street in 1861 and three generations of Simon Arnold’s family lived upstairs for 98 years (brewing gin in a bathtub). According to the Cincinnati City Directory, Simon Arnold indeed occupied part of a building on the north side of Eighth Street, just east of Main in 1861. However, he was not running a saloon. He was building billiard tables, because he was a carpenter until 1877. From 1856 to 1877, there was a saloon on the north side of Eighth Street, just east of Main, but it was run by George and Wilhelmina Weber, not anyone named Arnold. The Arnold family did not take over that saloon until 1877, when Wilhelmina Weber retired. From 1922 until 1933, no bar, saloon, speakeasy or restaurant operated out of that address at all. No one from the Arnold family lived in that building from 1926 until 1933. The story of Arnold’s founding date and continuous occupancy appears to have been embellished by Elmer Arnold in 1959 when he sold the venerable establishment to Ernst Wiedemann.

Carrie Nation, on a visit to Cincinnati, declined to smash any of the notorious Vine Street saloons, claiming, “I would have dropped from exhaustion before I had gone a single block.” Carrie Nation did, in fact, visit the Queen City at least twice. During her visits, she did not demolish a single saloon. She also gave numerous interviews while she was in town. In none of those interviews did she claim exhaustion prevented her from attacking Cincinnati saloons. Rather, she pointedly explained that she arrived here under a court-imposed performance bond she would forfeit if she demolished anything. The famous quote does not appear in print until 20 years after her Cincinnati visits.

Mark Twain said, “When the end of the world comes, I want to be in Cincinnati because it's always 10 years behind the times.” Everyone quotes Mr. Samuel Clemens and his eschatological analysis of the Queen City, but no one has ever provided a decent citation for it. The quote appears in none of his voluminous writings. To confuse matters, multiple scholars have found similar quotes attributed to quite a few famous folks about quite a few other cities. To further confuse matters, the quote sometimes appears as one sentence and sometimes as two sentences and the lag, while usually 10 years, is sometimes 20 years. In brief, if Mark Twain ever uttered such a comment, no one appears to have recorded it.

The Cincinnati subway failed because of poor design and cost overruns. In his exhaustive review of “Cincinnati’s Incomplete Subway” (2010), Jacob R. Mecklenborg notes that, despite the usual financial shenanigans of the Boss Cox political machine, Cincinnati’s Rapid Transit Loop project (which we know as the subway) was actually pretty well thought-out and potentially quite viable. Mecklenborg concludes that the newly elected Progressive city administration of 1925 could have saved the project but declined to do so to avoid giving the remaining Cox minions a victory. Most of the alleged shortcomings of the subway were actually unfounded Progressive propaganda from the 1920s.

Charles Manson attended Walnut Hills High School and/or used to hang out in Mount Adams. After his arrest and conviction in California, Cincinnatians suddenly began remembering Charles Manson’s early days in Cincinnati. Or, shall we say, misremembering? All the documentation – and Manson’s life has been inspected to the subatomic level – affirm that young Charles was shipped out of Cincinnati by age five, never to return. While it’s not impossible that he drifted through town from time to time, his high school years were spent in various reform schools. The period in which he allegedly hung out, swilling tequila in Mount Adams, find him involved in West Coast scams or serving time in California prisons. We can’t deny he was born here, but there’s no evidence Manson returned after an unhappy infancy.

Cincinnati Chili gets its distinctive flavor from chocolate. A great many Cincinnatians inaccurately yet vehemently insist that the secret ingredient to Cincinnati Chili is chocolate. Most “authentic” Cincinnati Chili recipes in print or online make this claim. The myth may be traced to Marion Rombauer Becker, who took over compiling the “Joy of Cooking” on the death of her mother, Irma Rombauer. Marion’s “Cincinnati Chili Cockaigne” recipe (the “Cockaigne” label signaled that the Rombauers served that dish at their home in Cincinnati) was the first to claim a dubious role for chocolate. As Cincinnati Chili maven Dann Woellert has repeatedly noted, the families who actually cooked and served our favorite dish deny there’s any chocolate involved.

Thomas Edison read every book in the old Ohio Mechanics Institute library. Young Tommy Edison spent a fruitful year in Cincinnati as a telegraph operator and he even did some tech support for the early Procter & Gamble. For a young inventor, the most useful resource in Cincinnati would have been the library of the Ohio Mechanics Institute, with 10,000 volumes on science and technology. However, to read every book, Edison would have had to consume 27 volumes a day and master a dozen languages. Edison sent an autographed photo to the Institute in later years, thanking them for allowing him to use the library and maybe that’s where the rumor started.

The first bathtub in the United States was installed in Cincinnati A satirical essay by H. L. Mencken, titled "A Neglected Anniversary," was published 28 December 1917, in the New York Evening Mail. Mencken claimed that the first bathtub in the United States was installed in a Cincinnati home by one Adam Thompson in 1842. Although this was totally “fake news,” it was repeated as truth many times over the next century and still pops up as “fact” online today.

Superman is buried in Spring Grove Cemetery The earthly remains of George Reeves, the actor who played Superman on television during the 1950s, were held in a vault at Spring Grove Cemetery for a couple of months in 1959 while his mother sorted out a permanent resting place. Although she wanted a mausoleum in Cincinnati, it proved impracticable. Reeves’ body was eventually cremated here and the ashes shipped to California, where they remain today.

UC’s Crosley Tower entombed an unfortunate worker during construction. Crosley Tower at the University of Cincinnati is a monument to brutalist architecture and is now scheduled for demolition. It was originally poured in 1969 as a single piece of concrete. Rumor has it that a workman fell in as the slurry was being pumped, and because the pour could not be interrupted without extravagant cost, he remains entombed there. Construction of this building was heavily documented and no one fell in. Rumors that workers dropped a Volkswagen into the mix while pouring are also false.

There’s a village of evil midgets out by Mount Rumpke. Although the rumor was disproved years before the alleged “Munchkinville” was demolished, there are still people who swear a “Tiny Town” of malicious little people exists out in Colerain Township. All the rumors trace back to the Handle Bar Ranch, originally a bicycle rental station later devoted to horse-drawn hayrides, owned by the late Percy and Anna Ritter. Mr. Ritter’s idiosyncratic architecture and Mrs. Ritter’s unusual décor inspired generations of high school students to mount midnight forays looking for munchkins. The alleged Tiny Town has been consumed by the expansion of the Rumpke waste disposal operation.

There is an exploded crematorium once used for Satanic rituals in Miami Heights. There is most definitely something out in the woods near Buffalo Ridge Road in Miami Heights, but it has nothing to do with Satan. After Cincinnati’s “fireproof” Chamber of Commerce building burned in 1911, the massive granite masonry was acquired by the Cincinnati Astronomical Society who hoped to build a world-class observatory overlooking Miamitown. Costs rose astronomically (ahem!) and then the Great Depression landed so the observatory got not much further than a foundation, a few walls and piles of randomly delivered used granite. It looked like a building had exploded out in the woods, hence the rumors. Some of the stones were salvaged to build a Stonehenge-like monument to architect H.H. Richardson in Burnet Woods. The rest have been swallowed by a county park.

Hordes of fanatics draped in “resurrection robes” climbed Cincinnati’s Brighton Hill, awaiting the end of the world in 1843 or 1844. Cincinnati was, indeed, a hotbed of Millerism in 1843. The Millerites, followers of New York preacher William Miller, did believe the world would end in 1843 or 1844. There are newspaper accounts of Millerites quitting their jobs and giving away all of their possessions and being very disappointed when the world did not end according to William Miller’s calculations. However, the scene of white-clad cultists perched on any of the local hills appears to be only rumor.

A Cincinnati doctor used to prescribe ketchup as medicine. While not entirely true, this legend is not entirely false, either. During the 1830s, a self-licensed Cincinnati “doctor” named Archibald Miles marketed a concoction he called “Miles’ Compound Extract of Tomato, the Genuine Tomato Pill,” derived from the fruit of tomatoes. This was back in the day when people were surprised to learn that the tomato, although a member of the deadly nightshade family, was not, in fact, poisonous. If it wouldn’t kill you, folks reasoned, it must make you stronger and so they attributed all sorts of medicinal properties to tomatoes. Miles sold so many pills he had to recruit a national sales team to handle the volume. But he sold tomato extract in pill form, not ketchup.

A mysterious European prince once offered to finance Cincinnati’s transformation into the gambling capital of the world but was turned down by City Council. In 1883, the Cincinnati Enquirer reported on the arrival in town of Prince Juan Pablo Trampantogo who, having deposited $90 million in earnest money in a local bank, announced plans to personally finance the transformation of the city while building “the largest, finest, and most complete gambling establishment in the world, to which the crowned heads of Europe and the entire sporting world shall throng with perfect freedom.” Although it was a total hoax, published on April Fool’s Day, the Prince Trampantogo story was repeated by local sources with complete credulity in 1943, 1950, 1974 and 1980.

Theda Bara once owned a Spanish-style villa on Victory Parkway Thanks to the dogged research of Ann Senefeld, who publishes the excellent “Digging Cincinnati” blog, we know this is simply not true. Ann tracked ownership of the alleged Theda Bara property from Mary Droesch, who built the villa in 1923 through Raymond and Lorene Frankel (1933-1942), Coleman Harris (1942-1949), Lillie Goldsmith (1949-1953) Lillian and John Lutz (1953-1956), Ida and Clifford Schaten (1956-1968) and Joseph Link Jr. (1968-1979) to Xavier University. At no point was it owned by Theda Bara or her family and there is no record she ever rented the property. It has been demolished.

The City of Cincinnati demolished a neighborhood called Kenyon-Barr. No one, other than the staff of the city planning office, ever referred to a section of the West End as “Kenyon-Barr.” Kenyon and Barr were two streets that intersected at ground zero for a Cincinnati urban renewal project. The designation “Kenyon-Barr” does not appear in print until 1952, when it served to identify a portion of the West End slated for demolition. Once the area was leveled, the city discovered that no one wanted to build anything in an area they had named Kenyon-Barr, so they hired a marketing expert who suggested renaming it Queensgate.

#carrie nation #mark twain #arnold's bar #midget town #theda bara #prince trampantogo