#UNIVERSE X Vol. 1 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sepherinaspoppies · 2 months

Text

Only If For A Night (i/?)

pairing: Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader

summary: In Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead), she gets forcefully transported to Westeros and meets her favorite book character, Aemond 'One Eye'. She asks and begs for his help to send her back home after realizing this was a world she did not want to live in. Unknowingly to her, her favorite fictional man had already grown too attached to fully let her go.

warnings for this part: profanity, tea drugging, blood magic, sexism, I think that's it... more dark stuff later. READER IS LATINA !

wc: 4,027

series masterlist

my masterlist

pt2

notes: originally I was gonna have this fic be a one shot but it is sooo long that I decided to split it into three. this is an introduction part, aemond will be on the next (I'm half way done with that part).

She knows she is screwed when Doña Maribel broke the news to her that the last of the cempasuchiles were completely sold out in her shop. Making it five flower shops in the span of an hour that she walked to have fully run out of the bright orange flowers she needed for her ancestral altar that she and her abuela worked tirelessly on for the past few days. (marigolds, grandmother)

She wonders what to do next or perhaps where to go as she plays with the gravel beneath her shoes. Sure, she could walk another mile or so to another flower shop and try her luck there just as Doña Maribel suggested but she finds herself too tired to venture deeper in her small pueblo by herself. (town)

Even the walk back to her abuela’s was not something she looked forward to as of now. This was the time where she wished she had the ability to drive but alas she could not for even the streets of Mexico were more hectic and nerve wracking than back at the states. (grandmother’s)

She sighs in defeat. The cempasuchiles were the last thing on her abuela’s list of things she required for tonight’s first day of Dia de Los Muertos. The bright orange flowers illuminated the path of those who died, back into the land of the living and enjoy the offerings their family’s set up for them. (Day of the Dead)

Maybe for just tonight she could spare them.

She sets her three mercado bags beside her as she sits down on a bench right next to a bus stop that could lead her directly to her abuela’s home. The smell of citrus of the lemon tree above her eases her disappointment and feels that this is the perfect spot to reread one of her favorite books. (shopping)

George R. R. Martin’s, Fire and Blood Vol. 1. She wondered what it was like to reside in a world of dragons (before they were all extinct), dire wolves from the North, red priestesses from Volantis, and mysterious yet powerful witches. To live inside the walls of the Red Keep and tour around the secret passageways and to fight for the rightful Queen of Westeros, Rhaenyra and the other members of the Blacks during the Dance of Dragons.

Sadly, even if it was possible to venture deep into alternate fantasy universes. It all was pure fiction. Not real. Impossible.

‘And so one-eyed Aemond the Kinslayer took up the iron-and-ruby crown of Aegon the Conqueror, “It looks better on me than it ever did on him,” the prince proclaimed.’

“Excuse me, do you happen to know when the bus is due to arrive?” She snaps her head up meeting the most beautiful and enchanting woman she’d ever seen. Eyes round and greener than the trees itself during spring. Hair long and black like ravens in the night sky. She was tall, taller than most of the women here with skin like porcelain that had not seen a day of sun, a rarity here in Mexico.

It was her mischievous tight lipped smile that made her feel loss of words. Unknowingly, this mysterious woman was the first person who spoke to her in English, not Spanish.

“Umm… I- I’m sorry?”

The green eyed woman smirked as if she knew the small effect she had on her. Gods she was beautiful.

“The bus–”

She shook her head out of her revere, coming to reality. “Oh, I’m not sure. Perhaps a few more minutes.” She informed, pulling her mercado bags closer to her side, allowing the green eyed woman to sit, not wanting to be rude.

She murmurs a quick thank you as she sits exceedingly close to her, shoulder to shoulder, flesh to flesh with her. Jeez, talk about personal space! However, the woman doesn’t seem to care or acknowledge that she has enough space for her own person. A feeling of uncertainty rests below her gut, telling her to be vigilant around her presence.

“How long have you waited?” She asks, breaking away the long silence between them. She almost shivers at the intensity hue of her eyes that bore right through her.

“About ten to twelve minutes.” She replies, looking anywhere else but her.

A satisfactory look sketched around the woman's youthful yet elderly face which she found odd. What could be so pleasing about the bus not arriving? The woman said nothing, only sitting rather straight, almost elegant in her simple long green dress. Though, in the back of her mind, she wondered if she felt hot underneath the heaviness of the velvet fabric. She sure as hell did.

“Wait, how did you know I spoke english?” She asked as the hairs on her arms stood up straight in some kind of chilling fear.

The woman’s eyes lowered and centered on the object sitting up on her lap. “Your book gives it away.” She snickered softly, tilting her head reading the bold letters of her very worn book she got at the thrift store for just two dollars. “An interesting read.” The green eyed woman said whilst her face held no sincere fondness of it for someone who found it interesting.

“You’ve read this before?” She asked curiously, little taken back, that she finally found someone else who read Fire and Blood Vol 1. Or anything by George R. R. Martin.

“Yes, almost like I've lived through it”

She opens her mouth to speak but the green eyed woman beats her to it. “I don’t mean to pry but where are you headed?” The smile falls off her face as she remembers the warning of stranger danger she learned as a kid.

The woman must have noticed the dubious look upon her face as she threw her head back in a laugh. “I ask because it seems a storm is coming our way. And it looks like an angry one.”

Sure enough, as she looked up the sky had turned into a deep gray with heavy clouds ready to pour any minute. Well this wasn’t forecasted in the noticias this morning, otherwise, she’d carry an umbrella. Or better yet, she wouldn’t have walked all this way if a storm was brewing. (news)

“My cottage is not very far from here,” the green eyed woman revealed, standing up from the bench, overlooking the seriousness of the clouds. “It is just around the corner. Would you like to come?”

She wanted to say no, that she was better off walking an hour back to her abuela’s house, even if it meant that she’d catch a cold in the pouring rain with blisters all over her feet. Besides, she did not know anything about this woman. Every bit of her mind screamed stranger danger! Don’t go!

But as she glanced between the heavy clouds and the green eyed woman with her hand extended out, all that doubt and worriment went away.

“I don’t even know your name,” she pointed out. If all goes bad, at least she had a name to tell the authorities.

“My name is Alyssandra Riveras.” The green eyed woman smiled, bowing at the waist.

Though still somewhat skeptical, she walks alongside Alyssandra to her cottage. She makes small mental notes in her head, counting the red stop signs, right and left turns and any other landmarks of important significance.

She was almost positive she could point her way back home. It did not help that five minutes into their journey, it started harshly pouring out of nowhere like a bucket of water had been poured all over, blanketing her vision.

Alyssandra’s cottage had sat on the outskirts of the pueblo, isolated from all civilization, hidden around tall and green pine trees. A faint voice in the back of her head screamed to run and never look back. She ignored it.

From a close distance, she was able to distinguish a small window with overgrown vines and branches wrapped around the perimeter of the cottage. Bones, bells, and crystal windchimes hung from the roof and windows, mostly likely put up for some kind of spiritual protection.

She was no stranger to the craft. Although raised catholic, both her mama and abuela had hung an old broom above their doorway to keep away unwanted guests and negative energies as well as pinning the mal de ojo sigil around the walls for the look of evil and envy against their family. (evil eye)

“Cempasuchiles,” she murmured in awe when Alyssandra’s small garden came into view. It was the most of the orange flowers she had ever seen, all bright and lively and huddled together.

“When the storm is over, you can grab as many as you’d like,” Alyssandra offered, peering over her shoulder, unlocking the door to her cottage. She nods following her inside whilst giving a grateful smile.

The interior of the cottage was small, meant only for one person to take residence. The same size as what a studio apartment would be back in the states.

In no way was the inside minimal, in fact it was the opposite. Almost all of the walls were covered with shelves with small trinkets adorning inside such as little statues, crystals, herbs and other supplies.

In the center of the room lay a huge stone like table, old and antique bearing the resemblance of something medieval. And something about it, sent shivers down her spine along with the same faint voice, telling her to run.

She ignored it, again.

“Give me your belongings, and change into this,” Alyssandra says, tossing a strappy white chemise. She exchanges her poor-soaked mercado bags that contained pan de muerto, churros, and tamales for her ancestral ofrenda. (bread of the dead, offering)

She turns around to protect her modesty, seeing as there was no other room to change nor did Alyssandra point her to the bathroom, so she lifts the drenched garment over her head and sheds away the last clothing she had on her body, leaving her completely bare in her birthday suit.

She couldn’t help but to feel Alyssandra’s eyes watching her very intently, examining every inch of her body as if it met her standards or so. She knows she should use her hands to cover up and give Alyssandra a piece of her mind, or better yet introduce her to a knuckle and hand sandwich for the way she was looking too closely.

Yet her body feels frozen, unable to move under the green eyed woman’s gaze.

“Would you like some tea to keep you warm?” Alyssandra asked, moseying to the kitchen.

She blinks, whatever paralyzing feeling she had dispelled away. “Um, yes thank you.” Alyssandra nodded, pulling what looked to be a kettle on the stove. Meanwhile, she slipped on the white chemise in a hurry to not feel as exposed anymore.

She takes the time to analyze the rest of Alyssandra’s cottage as she hears the droplets of rain hit the rooftop harder and the sound metal being filled with water. Various of the same purple flower plants were placed near the entrance, she notes to herself that these couldn’t possibly be lavender but another species or something within the same family.

A small cot laid in the corner close by the hearth, with multiple open ancient books and scrolls spread on top of the bedspread. She almost wants to look through the pages and read Alyssandra’s interests but she doubts she could as she observes the handwriting is unreadable from where she stood.

She walks forward to where the hearth is, feeling slightly warmer as something immediately catches her eye. Above the mantle, hung on the wall was a medium sized portrait of a small boy, appearing no more than three years old. He stood straight, almost regally with his hands behind his back. His face held no gentleness or warmth like a child should have.

Gods forgive her, but the child looked cruel like the gueritos who bullied her in elementary school when she was just trying to make new friends. (white boys)

Though, for an evil looking child, he sure was beautiful. The most striking thing about him was his set of eyes. Wide with his left eye a dark violet and his right a dark green similarly to Alyssandra’s. His hair was straight and cut short right below his ears. She looked closer at the portrait, thinking if her eyes deceived her as she noticed the peculiar color of the boy’s hair.

Silver.

Curiosity takes the better of her as she asks, “Is that your son?”

Alyssandra turns, holding two mugs of steaming tea. “Yes, that’s my beautiful little boy,” She places both glasses on the stoned table before she sits adjacent to her. It doesn’t go unnoticed by her the sad look on Alyssandra’s eyes. “He looks like you,” she points out though it’s somewhat of a lie in hopes to lift up Alyssandra’s spirits.

Alyssandra throws her head back in a chortle, “For all my hard work and labor, I had hoped he looked like me but nature loves to play its cruel jokes. He is a replica of his bastard father.” The thought of her son’s father left a sour and disgusting taste in Alyssandra’s mouth.

Alyssandra focused her attention back to her, “What about you?” She asked, sitting rather too straight.

“Do you mean if I have kids? Gods, no.”

Alyssandra smirked, “I take it you don’t like the idea of children. I did not either but after years of solitude, I changed my mind. I had other children before my son, but all of them died before they were due. You, however, are still young. Your mind can still change.”

She shifted in her seat anxiously, sipping the odd taste of the herbal tea Alyssandra provided. It wasn’t like she did not like children. She respected children and found them quite cute with their little tiny hands and feet and infectious laughs. But besides the point of appearance, children were a tremendous amount of responsibility that she found herself not ready for.

Not now. Not ever.

She could barely handle taking care of herself. Much less care and provide for a child for eighteen years or so.

“I don’t—”

“Oh but you will,” Alyssandra fired back without so much as blinking an eye.

She grimaced, knowing where this conversation was heading. And it was about to be a not so pretty one. She glanced at the window by the door, the rain was still heavy if not more.

“I thank you for giving me shelter. But I really must go. I was only just supposed to be out for some groceries and my abuela is probably wondering where I am.” Polite and respectful enough just as her mama taught her.

She grabbed her belongings that were hanging by the fire and stuffed them inside her mercado bag. Her hand was on the cusp of prying the door open when Alyssandra rushed to her side, wrapping her hand around her wrist.

“Wait. Please don’t go.” Alyssandra pleaded, “It’s just that you remind me much about myself. I didn't mean to cause offense, I’m sorry.”

Run. Say no and run now, While you still can…

There it was again that same paralyzing feeling closing in on her feet, preventing her to move. It was strange like a shield gluing both her legs down.

She nodded, murmuring ‘fine’ under her breath as Alyssandra slowly led her back to the woven chair with such gentleness as a porcelain doll. “I still need to call my abuela, so she can know I’m alright.”

Alyssandra twisted her face in a wince, “I’m afraid we’re too far out for any signals to catch a telephone call.” She held back the overweening snicker to herself, it was why Alyssandra chose her cottage to be settled this far out in this very modernized realm; so no one could find her.

Alyssandra wasn’t lying. No matter how hard she hit her Iphone against her palm or moved it around, there had not been a single signal bar glowing. She wondered if her abuela had started to grow worried and perhaps began to search for her. She hoped she didn’t and that her cousins kept her preoccupied with the rest of the decorations to notice the duration of how long she’d been out. She also wondered if they were still going to the cementerio, to clean and decorate the graves of their loved ones but with the amount of thunder and rain, she’d doubt it was still on the agenda. (cemetery)

Alyssandra prepared some more tea as the fire gradually faltered down. This one had a different taste than the previous one with tiny purple petals floating around. Alyssandra watched very intently as she sipped every last drop while she scarcely touched her own mug.

The green eyed woman began asking her multiple personal questions, mostly about where she was originally from (due to the fact that her vocabulary deemed to be more vehement in English than Spanish), her family, and if she had any siblings. She had answered them all. Letting her know that she was just visiting from the states to celebrate Dia de Los Muertos with her family she had not seen since the death of her sweet abuelo. (grandfather)

Alyssandra’s eyes glimmered even more when she explained how strangely, her very stern and overprotective mama had suddenly let her travel by herself to a country she had never been to in years since she was small. Her mama preferred her to be where she could keep a close eye on her because ‘uno nunca sabe’ especially if you’re a woman. (one never knows)

It was odd, alright. Especially when her mama gave her money that she didn’t have, and enthusiastically wished her good fortune on her travels. Yup odd…

But not to Alyssandra.

Alyssandra sat down after cleaning both mugs ready to ask the hard hitting questions she’d been warming her up to. “Have you ever been with a man?” Her eyes widened before breaking rounds of deep laughter that made the sides of her ribs ache and cramp.

However, there wasn’t an ounce of amusement displayed on Alyssandra’s face, but rather annoyance. What was so funny? It was a simple and uncomplicated question that meant no harm. At least not to her. He couldn’t harm her any more here. Alyssandra guessed perhaps it was the side effect of the tea making her humoristic.

“No,” She replied, wiping the humoristic tears at the corner of her eyes. “The opportunity has never presented itself?” Alyssandra asked.

All the humor that previously lingered had gone swiftly away, realizing that Alyssandra was indeed asking something so personal to her. “No,” She shook her head, feeling her face hot and red. “People don’t look at me as someone they want to be with. They’d rather be with someone exciting, adventurous, and outing. And I’m neither of those things. I’m a homebody who’s idea of fun and adventure is living through fictional books.” She answered truthfully, too truthfully.

Alyssandra watched her face transform into a deeper shade of red. “What is it?” She questioned, taking a hold of her hand, taking in the role of someone empathetic.

“I want my first time to be special. Like the fairytales I grew up reading about with the grand Prince sweeping the young maiden off her feet and taking her to his castle…” The way her eyes reflected small flashes of light made Alyssandra almost feel guilty for her true intentions once the repercussions of the tea ran out.

She remembers when she too wished for a dashing knight in shining armor to take her away, far away from the shit she had been through; the pain, the suffering, and the poverty. All of it. As Alyssandra grew well into her womanhood, she realized there was no knight coming to save her. Instead, there was a selfish Prince who spared her for his desires and her many talents beyond the acts of the flesh.

But Alyssandra needed her to go. She needed that piece that was stolen from her. She didn’t want the risk of going back and facing him again and repeating through the hell and agony he put her through. So sending her for it seemed like the better alternative.

“I know you probably think it sounds stupid–” She stammered, her face still beet red.

“I don’t think it sounds stupid,” Alyssandra softly smiled, giving her hand a light squeeze. Judging by the serene look upon her face, it was a good lie that she seemed to believe.

She smiled. Finally, someone who didn’t think of the idea of waiting for the right person was silly and unrealistic.

Her smile deterred, sensing something trickle down her nose, dropping against the skin of her hand.

Blood. Her blood.

Run!

“Alyssandra?” She whispered, puzzled at the sight of more blood spilling out of her nose. Every strand of hair in her arms stood, sensing a new type of alertness course right through her. She glanced at a very blurred Alyssandra with what looked to be a smirk written on her face.

“W-What’s happening?” She stood from the chair, but that soon turned out to be a bad idea as her knees gave out, sending her straight to the stoned cold floor. She glanced up, watching as Alyssandra sauntered in front of her, and as much as she wanted to crawl away her body was glued to the floor.

“Look,” Alyssandra said, crouching down at her level before she took her in her arms like a newborn baby, weighing little to nothing. “We don’t have much time. When you wake up, I need you to retrieve something of mine…”

She felt her back collide on top of the stoned table, “What was in that tea?” She questioned but Alyssandra was quick to shush her. “It doesn’t matter now. You drank it all willingly.” There was no argument there.

Alyssandra pulled out a jar with overflowing cempasuchil petals inside and circled the petals around her. Almost like a ritualistic circle she used to watch the brujas next door do. (witches)

“You need not to be afraid. You will not be harmed as long as you do what I say. Exactly as I say.” She gulped, nodding seeing as she had no other choice. “Bruja.” She spat but Alysssandra only chuckled, “I’ve been called much worse, little dove.” (witch)

Through the corner of her eye, she saw Alyssandra holding out a small knife. “I am in need of a sapphire. It was stolen from me many years ago. It is one of a kind, which is why when you see it you’ll know it is mine.”

She momentarily shut her eyes as the dark haired woman rapidly cut the middle of her palm spewing her blood on top of the petals. “Once you’re successful, you’ll come back here with the sapphire and gather some of my materials. The marigold petals with your blood coating them; The blood of whom you took the sapphire from and lastly you’ll lay on top of my precious table here to be transported back.”

There was an evil smile on her lips that she desperately wanted to punch it off. “And if I don’t get the sapphire?” She questioned.

Alyssandra combed away her unruly braided hair, “Then I won’t bring you back and you’ll be stuck there forever.”

Fuck.

“Stuck? Stuck where? Where am I going?”

Alyssandra clicked her tongue, “A place where fairy tales do not exist, my little dove.” If she wanted a Prince to sweep her off her feet. Alys would gladly give her one.

She attempted to wiggle herself out of this pendeja’s spell but whatever Alyssandra mixed in the tea it was compelling her body to still and her eyes to slowly falter shut in a peaceful sleep. (dumbass)

“However I should warn you, this spell is only valid until tomorrow. Until Dia de Los Muertos is over and even if you do achieve in retrieving the sapphire but it is after November second, you'll be permanently trapped with him.”

general taglist: @dreaming-for-an-escape @marvelescvpe @omgisrdj @ramsip @silentf @thenightmistress @dixie-elocin @namelesslosers @gigi-panecillo @laureeedn @watercolorskyy @seabasscevans @kittendoll05 @fullmoonworshipper @bunbunbl0gs @summerposie @dusicapopilic @tulips2715 @kckt88 @chaoticwinnercupcake @folksriddle @ficsandsin @nyx-daughterofchaos98 @qweencrimson @slytherized @qyburnsghost @tofujiji @saturnssrings @janeety @thought--bubble @theunburt @mandiiblanche

series taglist: @castellomargot @toodlesxcuddles @itsabby15 @diannnnsss @fan-goddess @zenka69 @a-beaverhausen @gabee-arts @bluebirdbts @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly @absurduty @delulumhaggy @liannafae @aaaaaamond @ilikechocolatemilkh @bellaisasleep @ammo23 @alphard-hydraes-blog

if you'd like to be tagged on my general taglist click here

if you want to be tagged on this series comment here!

#prince aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #dark aemond x reader #dark aemond targaryen

469 notes · View notes

fandom · 1 year

Text

Another year, another banger of a Eurovision.

In a stunning upset, Sweden's Loreen beat out Finland's Käärijä to take the top spot at the Eurovision Song Contest. The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom is finally here and the wait was worth it—don't forget to tag or filter spoilers if you don't want to see the absolutely bonkers builds everyone is making. With only three episodes left, season three of Ted Lasso continues to deliver on its multiple emotional arcs. It was a surprising election night on Succession this week. Trigun Stampede trended after Twitter user Bigolas Dickolas Wolfwood inadvertently turned the 2019 novel This Is How You Lose the Time War into a bestseller. Finally, we got the Tony Hawk x Amaury Guichon collab we didn't know we needed. This is Tumblr's Week in Review.

The Eurovision Song Contest

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom

Ted Lasso

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3

Succession

Trigun Stampede

Käärijä

Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story

Yellowjackets

Artists on Tumblr

The Owl House

Critical Role

Finland

Stranger Things

9-1-1

UK Politics

Dracula Daily

Taylor Swift

Tony Hawk

Batman | the DC universe

#week in review #05/15/2023 #eurovision #käärijä

745 notes · View notes

madelynraemunson · 3 months

Text

Bonus scene 𓆩♡𓆪

from the CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT universe (18+)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

timeline: 015, THIS SCENE, 016** | ** = smut

Eddie has an important question to ask you on your birthday.

contains: fluff, physical touch, flirting, loverboy!eddie, romantic eddie, implied history of abuse from billy

wc: 1k words

*play this while you read to really be immersed in st nostalgia* 🥹 (if you want)

♡

“Oh no,” you breathe.

Everything starts to make more sense when you see Steve waiting for you at Hellfire’s doors. He’s got the smuggest look on his face. You quickly try to turn and run the other way, already embarrassed. But the former Star Athlete is faster, immediately lunging at you to drag you into the club.

“Nope!” Harrington protests.

“Steve-” you begin.

“No no no no,” he shakes his head. “Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”

They’re all gonna see you like this. You hate to admit it, but you had just spent your entire commute crying — evident by your raccoon eyes — because you thought everyone (except for Billy) had forgotten your birthday.

Robin and Vicky were already out of the house by the time you woke up. Max, you assumed, got a ride from Steve to their new barista job. Chrissy turned down a pre-shift ‘Hot Girl Walk’, and Eddie never called. It was starting to feel like the most Adult birthday ever, but by a long shot not the worst.

“Put me down!” you persist.

Birthdays suck. Especially when you share one with your abuser. But you’re in a new era now. An era where you are loved, celebrated, and protected.

“SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHY GIRL!”

You’re bombarded by obnoxious kazoos and party hats, streamers and confetti in all shapes and colors, and what looks like a homemade birthday cake in Jane (Mike’s girlfriend)’s hands, decorated with funky, florescent candles, and crafty red hearts that overpowered every inch of the thick white fondant.

“Oh my god,” you beam.

Max, Robin and Vicky. Chrissy, Argyle, Nancy, Jonathan, and Henry. Will, Lucas, Dustin, Mike, Jane, and Erica who also just had a birthday (she turned 18 last week). Steve. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant. All the faces you’ve grown to know and love since moving to Hawkins, all together in one room to celebrate YOU.

“We were trying so hard to keep this a secret,” Steve explains as he gives you a hug. “I’d say we did a pretty good job.”

“Yeah sorry we couldn’t get a better location,” Mike adds. “Chuck E Cheese was fully booked so Hellfire was the next best thing.”

“You guyssss,” you begin to sob. “This is oddly perfect. Thank you.”

“Well,” Jane says. She holds the cake up to your face. “There's no sense in waiting any longer. Make a wish!”

You close your eyes. I wish for life to always be this peaceful.

And when you open your eyes, you see Eddie in front of you, with a beautiful rose bouquet and a bag in his hands.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

His eyes are twinkling like a kid who woke up early on Christmas morning. You greet him with a warm hug to which he uses that opportunity to affectionately rub your back. You hear some soft “aww”s in the background, but you’re too infatuated with the man in front of you to jokingly scorn at whoever said it.

“How’d you know it was my birthday?” you ask him.

“You can find out lot of stuff from paperwork,” Eddie winks at you. “Specifically your resume. Which, might I say, is very impressive.”

“Why, thank you, sir,” you giggle.

You can tell the sir made Eddie’s stomach do somersaults. Completely blushing now, he hands you your gift in the form of a bag, ushering you to open it — right here — in front of everybody.

"You didn't have to..." you mutter quietly.

You take the bag from him.

"Yet… I did," Eddie spews confidently. He watches as you unwrap your gift. “I’d get you strippers but then it’d feel like work. And your bday should never feel like work.”

You nudge him as you roll your eyes. Such a fucking cornball.

But then you become the cornball. A tear begins to form in your eyes when you look at all your gifts. The roses. A custom metalhead Build-A-Bear with a leather jacket and jeans whose certificate reads “Eddie Bear”, and a gold plated charm bracelet from Everlasting Memories with your name engraved on it. But just when you think you had everything, Eddie scoops up the last one from the bottom. It’s a small wooden sign with a message on it.

CAN I BE YOUR BOYFRIEND?

“Oh my god…” is all you can say.

His voice is as gentle as the fingers he uses to patiently graze your arm. "So can I?"

The tear that formed in your eye finally trickles its way down your rosy red cheeks. "Of course you can."

Then you two share a kiss, eliciting an even louder swarm of “aww”s than the ones before, and generating a reaction from nearby, a very curious dancers.

“I hope you know how special you are to each and every one of us,” Eddie says to you. “Especially me, haha.”

You wipe the happy tears away from your eyes.

“It sure feels like it.”

Eddie gives you the day off and you use it to stuff your face and play board games with all your friends. Eventually after the short festivities you stay behind to chill with everyone for a bit. Then you go your own way to start making dinner, which you insisted on, at home.

When you get home, you’re surprised with another text message from Billy.

Billy Hargrove

I’d say the move has helped us a lot. I have room to miss you 🤣

You smile as you answer back.

To be better days ❤️ Happy birthday, brother. I miss you tons.

Billy Hargrove loved “To better days ❤️ Happy birthday, brother. I miss you tons.”

After your convo with Billy, you make your way over to the freezer to grab and defrost the chicken. Tonight’s menu consists of chicken, greens, and potatoes for dinner, followed by some birthday muffins Bob Newby had his bakers make at his coffee shop (courtesy of Max and Steve) for dessert.

Next, you begin to set the table, making sure to make seven settings for tonight: you, Max, Robin, Vicky, one for Eddie, and one for Wayne.

And when you’re finally done, you take a look around your house that you have made a home with your sister and best friends. You’re finally home. Hawkins is home. And for the first time in a really long time, you can truly say you’ve had… a happy birthday.

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay

#eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things 5 #joe quinn #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fluff

78 notes · View notes

hollybell51 · 10 months

Text

It's ok - two

Navigation

Part one

Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)

Word count: 7.5K

Summary: you and Adam deal with the aftermath of the pollen debacle

Content: referenced sex pollen and associated dubcon, SMUT, agan maybe a bit of perviness, Adam being down bad, reader being down bad, blowjobs, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's not technically a virgin any more but still kinda is, reader definitely isn't, bit of angst, with a happy ending, getting together, fluff, light dirty talk, praise kink, light body worship, subby Adam, again potential ooc

Notes: this is part 2 so you gotta read part 1 for it to make sense. I hope I fixed the numerous moral issues with part 1's ending lmao also before you come at me for the shower stuff; I'm so white I'm practically reflective, so I do apologise to all my textured-hair girlies for my crimes against you with that... I hope praise kink Adam who loves tits makes up for it. enjoy.

Oh yeah, this is also on my AO3

You woke slowly, swimming up against the gravity of sleep as though it were mud. Your whole body was tingling with a pleasant warmth and heaviness, underpinned by something that wasn’t quite unease, or discomfort, but close enough. A shiver ran down your spine, and you pulled the blanket closer around your neck. Hold on. Blanket?

You shot upright, cursing as the cool air of the ship’s interior hit your bare skin. Of course. You vaguely remembered the sudden flush of heat that had overcome you, your suit constricting like it was being shrink wrapped to your skin, the incessant throbbing low in your stomach and then between your legs. Everything after that was foggy, as though you were watching a film with a hazy filter, shot through a curtain of water. But you could definitely see Adam’s concerned face close to your own, feel the echo of his hand on your back and on your forehead. And, well, everywhere else.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” he’d asked, as if you hadn’t been dreaming about that for months. Hell, you’d been imagining that exact eventuality as you’d frantically gotten yourself off on the floor of the shower.

Now, you wondered if he was ever going to look at you the same way. It had been quick, hard and rough and you felt bad now for how little thought you’d spared him. You weren’t even really thinking at all, your mind offered. He seemed ok. He came, didn’t he? You felt your cheeks heat at the memory, fuzzy as it was, of his face buried in the crook of your neck, hips jutting up against yours, strong arms wrapped around your waist and your name on his lips. It was better than anything your imagination had ever cooked up, and you were probably racking up some truly awful karma by stowing it away.

You sighed, pushing yourself off the bed and running a hand through your (mostly) dry hair, fingers catching in the mess of tangles. You were never going to skim information on anything ever again. Actually, screw that, you were never going to go outside again. At least without a full suit and helmet, oxygen tank and air filter included.

The blanket trailed behind you like a grotesque bridal train as you headed for the bridge, bare feet slapping faintly on the cool floors. It had felt nice earlier, but now you wished you’d kept track of your clothes. You’d left your underwear in the shower, hadn’t you? What had happened to your suit?

The ship was eerily quiet, the bridge deserted but for a pile you didn’t remember leaving on what had been your seat – still swivelled around to face Adam’s for the sole purpose of being able to watch him read the briefing and notes as you packed.

The pile, as it turned out, was a fresh suit and your underwear, bearing no traces of the frankly ridiculous amount of wetness that had made the walk back so uncomfortable, or shower water. Had he washed them for you? Then dried them, too? Your heart gave a pathetic little jump and twist at the thought. Adam didn’t deserve something like this. Maybe if it had been anyone else you’d have been able to live it down, laugh it off and thank them for the good times, but him? No way in hell.

You’d felt something towards the newest citizen of Knowhere almost as soon as you’d started really talking to him. He was funny once you’d gotten him to lighten up, and had practically jumped at the opportunity to help repair the damage to the planetoid, even if he’d been the one who caused a lot of it. There was so much genuine curiosity and wonder in him, the painfully obvious desire to do well – which you supposed came from the High Evolutionary and the whole Perfect Man thing – and the fact that he seemed to hang on your every word like it was the gospel… Well, you hadn’t stood a chance. It had only gone downhill from there, and before long you’d been wondering what it would be like to see what constituted the perfect man up close and personal. What would the hands that destroyed so much of your home, and then rebuilt it beside you, feel like on your bare skin? Would your arms fit around those broad shoulders as perfectly as you imagined? Would his lips be as soft as they looked?

You supposed you knew some of that now. You fit against him perfectly, like you were made for each other. His hands were painfully gentle, and much softer than you’d thought they’d be. You regretted that you hadn’t kissed him more, and done a better job of it. You cringed at the memory of your teeth clashing against his, not an ounce of coordination or forethought.

He’d been better at it when he’d kissed over your chest, sucked gently at the skin of your breasts. You could see a few faint marks as you did up your suit, far too ill-defined to be called hickeys. Guiltily, you wished you’d gotten him to leave more.

You were jerked out of that line of thought by something rustling onto the floor. A note, scrawled hastily.

“Dear (Y/N),” crossed out, then “To (Y/N),” crossed out again, finally just “(Y/N).”

You smiled stupidly. Who knew indecisiveness could be so endearing?

“I hope you’re ok.”

“Yep,” you whispered in return. “All fine here.”

“Sorry I left. I hope you’re not cold. I didn’t want to wake you up so I didn’t dry your hair.”

God, this man.

“I washed your clothes for you, but I incinerated the other suit. Sorry. It had pollen on it. Don’t worry, I made sure it’s all gone.”

You sighed. “Thank you, Adam.”

“I’ve gone out, but I’ll be back in no more than three hours.” There was time here, too, underlined and in parenthesis. He had about half an hour left. Shit, had you been out that long? Seriously?

The next line started with “I h” but the rest was so heavily crossed out you couldn’t even begin to guess what it said. It was followed by “I hope you’re ok” again, then another bout of heavy censorship before his name. You wondered how he’d originally signed it, but quickly squashed that. Nope.

“Alright,” you said to the note. You felt a bit stupid checking your surroundings as you folded it and placed it in your pocket, but hey, it might come in handy. For reports or future references or… something.

How was he being so goddamn nice? A heavy stone of guilt settled in your stomach, along with the distinct sense that he was doing this because he didn’t know better. He was so eager to please, to do good, that he’d probably just assumed fucking you – letting you fuck him was probably a more apt description, actually – was the natural solution to the pollen problem. And yeah, you’d heard the part about dying if you didn’t (which you thought was ridiculous, frankly, and probably said something about humans and their suitability for anywhere outside Earth) but it still didn’t sit right with you. Not even a little.

Something beeped on the console, the light for the door flashing cheerfully. “He’s back!” it seemed to be saying. “He’s back, he’s back, he’s back!”

“Yeah, alright,” you muttered, flicking it off. “Think of the devil.”

“What devil?”

You jumped. Actually genuinely jumped before you turned towards the voice. “Figure of speech.”

“Oh,” said Adam, boots thudding dully on the floor as he crossed the space. “Did you sleep ok?”

“Yeah. Thanks for… this.” You didn’t know what to do with your hands. Fuck, why were your hands so sweaty? And since when had he looked good good in that damn suit? It was ugly on everyone, no matter how pretty they happened to be without it.

Oblivious to the mini meltdown in your head, as he should be, Adam pulled off his gloves and set them down on his seat with a soft thwump noise. “That’s ok. Sorry I didn’t stay, I didn’t want to disturb you, and then I figured you’d be out for a while, then I thought maybe I should just get it over with since I can…” A pause, a breath, then, “Go out there.”

“Yeah,” you smiled, “it’s fine. I’d have done the same.” Should you mention the note? No, you decided. It was staying tucked away in your pocket forever.

He shrugged, then held up his arms. “I didn’t get any on me, by the way.”

Right, yeah, the pollen. The pollen that had turned you into a goddamn nymphomaniac. You supposed it was going to come up, and better to just bite the bullet, right?

“Adam,” you started, stepping around your chair to face him.

His eyes followed every movement, as if he was memorising the way a person walked. Up close, you could make out a faint bronze tinge to his golden face, most likely from the heat outside. You could have studied it for hours.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. It came out quieter than you’d have liked, huskier and less sure of yourself. You forged on. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything, and I just… I…” Deep breath, look him in the eyes. “Thank you. For helping me. I know it’s how the whole ‘saving people’ gig usually goes but… you did. So, uh, thanks.”

Maybe it was trite. Maybe it was a poor choice of words, but Adam didn’t seem to think so. Very carefully, as though he were afraid of somehow hurting you, he reached out and took your hand. His skin was warm and smooth to the touch as it had been before (after all, why should it have changed?), and just like it had in the shower, his thumb moved in little circles over the back of your hand.

“It’s alright,” he said, sincere as anyone and only just tinged with something that might have been regret’s cousin. “You didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Yeah, I… yeah.” You couldn’t help the little huff of laughter that escaped you. You didn’t have much of a choice? Carefully, you lifted your gaze from the hypnotic movement of his thumb. It was odd how such a tiny gesture, such a light touch, could suffuse your entire being with such warmth. It wasn’t like the heat from earlier, it was gentle and soft and the fact that you clung so desperately to it probably said more about you than him, but still… “I’m glad it was you, Adam.”

You could have sworn he stood straighter, and that the lines of his shoulders became less harsh. Maybe it was just the smile he was giving you, genuine and sweet, and wow you’d never felt so undeserving of a damn facial expression.

He nodded. “I didn’t realise it could feel like that.” Then, at your frown, “Sex, I mean. I didn’t understand why people liked it so much, but now I think I do.”

Oh. Oh. Right. That bit. Of course you were going to have to talk about that bit too. Looking back, you were pretty sure that you’d have thought absolutely anything was top-notch in the state you were in, and from what you remembered, the actual mechanics of it had been very one-sided. You had, if you were honest, simply fucked yourself on top of him.

But you were not going to say that. Instead, you snorted and let your hand fall from his. “You’ve been having sex with the wrong people, then.” Not that I’m the right one, or anything. But maybe I could have been.

Adam eyed your hand, then shrugged and turned towards the panel. “I hadn’t had sex with anyone before you,” he said as he unclipped his radio and dropped it onto one of the few free spaces.

Woah. Woah, hold on, rewind. He what? That was the first time for him? That? The guilt-stone had become a bloody guilt-boulder, and were you being dramatic or had the ship just wobbled?

“What?”

He turned back towards you, frowning. “I hadn’t done it before. Are you ok?”

“Oh God.”

“What? Is something wrong?” He was back in front of you, hands ghosting over your shoulders and arms as your mind raced. You hadn’t even considered that. Well yeah, you had, in various imagined scenarios and fantasies none of which involved the prospect of your death if you did not have sex with him.

“Yeah, I–” You took a breath, forcing yourself to look at him. How the hell were you going to explain this? Should you? Would it just make it worse? But no, you owed him this at least. “Adam,” you said as gently as you could, “your first time should be with someone you want, because you want to do it with them. It shouldn’t be to save someone’s life, let alone someone who… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry.”

He had a firm grip on your shoulders now, and that damned thumb was giving you the comfort treatment there, too. You wondered if he realised he was doing it. “Don’t be,” he said. “I still liked it. And I did want to do it with you. I know it was only me because there’s no one else here, but I still… I still wanted you.” He paused, then, “I just wish it had been you you.”

Yeah, so did you. But that wasn’t what stuck with you. He’d wanted you. He’d liked it, shit as it had probably been from his end. “You…” You stopped, swallowed. “You wanted me, too?”

He just nodded, searching your face. The tinge of bronze had deepened to copper.

“Oh.”

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I think about you a lot. I wondered– wondered what it would be like to kiss you. Touch you, feel you like… like that.”

Again, all you could manage was a soft “oh,” acutely aware of his closeness, how he filled your vision, the temperature of the ship (which seemed to have risen), and his hands through your clothes. “And?”

His breath hitched in his chest, and his voice was low when he answered. “I’d have liked to kiss you, stay with you afterwards. Tell you… Tell you that you’re important to me, and I don’t ever want to see you in pain again.”

You drew your own breath. How could this be happening? This didn’t exist outside your mind. It really shouldn’t even exist in your mind. But you heard yourself speak all the same. “You could. Kiss me, I mean. If you still want to.”

His thumb stilled. “Are you sure?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, moving a fraction of a step closer. “I’d like you to.”

You did not like cliches. You did not like to be trite or banal, but you could have sworn you were living in slow motion as Adam leaned down the few inches between you, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft it was almost chaste.

You tilted your face towards his before he could pull away, parting your lips ever so slightly, leaning into the warmth at your shoulders. He seemed to get the idea, his hands sliding effortlessly up your neck to cradle your face, fingers caressing your jaw and cheeks, your own hands settling on his wrists. Your heart thudded wildly, and you felt for all the world like a schoolgirl playing truth or dare at a sleepover, a teenager spinning the bottle with the boy you liked sitting across from you, a Guardian of the goddamn Galaxy being touched so gently by the guy you’d ridden six ways into next week not three hours ago.

You pulled back first, but barely. “I didn’t do a very good job of this before, did I?”

“It wasn’t too bad. Not what I expected.” You could feel the words on your skin, your face so close to his that his features were slightly blurred. His breath was warm against your lips.

“Mm,” you sighed, “that’s not usually how it goes.”

“Oh. Ok then.” He dipped back down momentarily, pulling away just as fast. “I like this a lot better.”

“Me too,” you smiled, stretching up to kiss him again. This was firmer, more direct. This time his lips were parted too, and he gave a pleased little hum when you moved against him. You let go of his wrists, mourning the loss of his hands on your face for a moment before you mimicked the position, pulling him closer to you. He was good at this, and you vaguely wondered if it was just the sex part that was new to him. His hands had settled at your waist, holding you steady and he hummed into your mouth, a sound that you could have listened to forever.

“I wanted this for so long, Adam,” you murmured between kisses. “I thought about you too, you know.”

“(Y/N)...” Adam paused, raising a hand to press against your forehead.

You just smiled, pressing into his touch. “It’s all me, don’t worry.”

He nodded, following your lead as your tongue slipped along his lip, a tiny moan caught between his mouth and yours when you slid it alongside his. He tasted like the falsely sweet nutritious bars you never seemed to run out of, warm and smooth and so soft. How could a person’s mouth be that soft? Now you really felt bad for the borderline assault you’d launched on it earlier.

You’d ended up with your hands on his shoulders, half bracing yourself and half mapping out the contours of his upper arms, neck, collar and chest. Your fingers slid easily through his hair where it brushed his neck, dipping occasionally under the high collar. You needed to get someone onto redesigning those.

He was holding you so close you wondered if he was trying to somehow pull you into him, his grip firm and decisive on your hips. Carefully, experimentally, you pushed your pelvis against his, a bolt of heat shooting through you at the hardness already growing there. He cursed, muffled by the fact that his tongue was in your mouth, welcome as anything he was giving you.

“Is this–?” you started, but he cut you off.

“Yes,” he breathed, drawing back enough to look at you. He was really flushed now, lips swollen and so, so pretty, eyes bright with want. “Yes, (Y/N).”

“Are you sure? No lives on the line here.”

He smiled, stroking your hip gently. “I’m sure.”

“Ok.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before taking his hand and leading him towards the bed you’d woken in, your steps sure and determined. He sat, as he had before, watching you expectantly. You considered simply shedding your clothes and letting him take the lead. Maybe you could sit on his lap and jerk him off, show him how to touch you. Maybe.

“Can I?” you asked as you stood between his legs, fingers toying with the fastenings of his clothes.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Would you like me to?”

Again, “yes.”

You smiled, running your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta help me out.”

“Mhm.” He nodded, kissing your palm before reaching up to peel off the suit, rolling the material smoothly down his arms, his chest, letting it bunch at his hips.

This was not the first time you’d seen him without a shirt. There’d been the aftermath of the face-off with the High Evolutionary, for one, and you definitely remembered stripping him before. A few moments where he or you had entered the other’s space as he’d been pulling a shirt on or a suit up, nothing more than a glimpse of midasian shoulders, the ripple of a smooth back, the hint of a belt of muscle. You’d carefully stowed every inch of gleaming gold in the deepest recesses of your mind.

Now you could touch, too. You bent to kiss him as your fingers curled around the ball of his shoulder, revelling in the little sigh he gave when you dragged your hand down to his sternum. His heart thudded under your palm, and you swore you could feel the warm rush of his blood beneath his skin as you slid your touch sideways, your hand now splayed over his ribs.

He whispered your name as you moved your kisses to his jaw, still soft, gradually trailing down his neck. Goosebumps prickled under your hand when your tongue brushed his skin, the sharp rush of his breath stirring your hair when you sucked ever so lightly at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Lower, over his heart, tiny bronze marks standing out against the smooth gold. You felt the skin of his stomach twitch as your fingers met the waistband of his underwear, and you paused.

“Is this alright?” you asked, craning your neck to look at him.

“Yes.” His eyes were closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen anything so beautiful.

“This?” You slipped your hand under the material, tracing the deep v of his pelvis.

“(Y/N), please–”

Oh wow. The too-tight, too-hot feeling was back, only this time its cause wasn’t sprinkled all over you. He was looking at you like you were an oxygen tank and he was drowning, and how could you ever have said no to that?

“I can’t do it all by myself,” you smiled, pulling at the bunched and folded material circling his waist, “you gonna help out?”

He assured you he was, lifting his hips and kicking his pants down to his ankles. It was then that you both realised he still had his boots on. He cursed softly, apologised, bent to unlace them before your hands on his stopped him. You knew what you were doing now, and exactly where you were going.

“Let me?” you said as you knelt between his legs, your fingers already at work.

“Oh,” he whispered as he watched you. “(Y/N), you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you replied simply. “I wanna take care of you, Adam. Can I?”

“Yes.” It was a sigh, and his eyes when you met them were so full of what could only be described as awe that you wondered if he’d actually heard you. You ran your hands up his muscular thighs, wriggling closer to the edge of the bed, forcing his legs further apart. You bent, laying a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses across his stomach, marvelling at the smoothness and warmth of his skin, the faint tang of sweat and something else that was distinctly Adam.

“You took care of me,” you whispered as you pulled off his underwear. “I wanna return the favour.”

He was hard, you’d felt – and seen – that much already. What you hadn’t seen, and had failed to even consider in any detail, was that his dick would be – that any dick could be – so damn pretty. It was metallic as the rest of him, ample as you’d felt earlier, flushed copper and fuck you wanted to put it in your mouth right now.

“Is…” He paused, breathing hard. “Is that ok?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Yeah, Adam, you’re perfect. You’re just… You’re perfect.”

He sighed again, this time with something close to relief. “Oh. Ok. That’s… That’s good. Thank you.”

“Can I touch you?” You’d already touched him practically everywhere else, and had done a little earlier, so you didn’t expect that moan that slipped from him.

“Yes, please,” he breathed. “Please, (Y/N), go ahead.”

Go ahead, whispered into your neck before you’d sunk down on that dick. So of course, you spat into your hand and wrapped your fingers around him, moving your hand gently to coat the whole thing in moisture. Adam’s thigh tensed under your free hand, his breath catching in his chest. You watched his face carefully as you found a rhythm, mapping every vein and curve, the swell of the head, the wet slit which you slid your thumb over – making his hips jerk ever so slightly into your grip.

“So beautiful,” you whispered as his hand came to rest on your shoulder. “You’re so perfect, Adam. How’d I get so lucky? What’d I ever do to deserve you?”

Your name was little more than a sharp intake of breath, and you smiled as you continued your movements. His hand slid up to your hair, around the back of your neck, fingers dipping under the collar of your suit. “Your clothes,” he said softly.

“Off?” You paused, relishing in the feel of his hand on you. It had been magnified thousand-fold earlier, every brush of his skin lighting you on fire. This was less severe, though not by much.

“Mhm.”

“Ok.” You turned your head, kissing his hand before it slipped from you as you stood. You were less graceful than Adam was in undressing, and you knew you were no stripper, but his eyes still followed every movement raptly, as though he were memorising every inch of skin you revealed. You kicked your suit aside, stepping back into place between his legs as you cast off your bra.

Adam’s hands were quick to settle on your hips, dipping under the waistband of your underwear. “Do you want help with this, too?”

“Yes,” you smiled as you brought your hands to his hair. You’d vaguely noticed that it was softer than you’d expected, and didn’t catch easily between your fingers, but that he’d seemed to like it when you’d pulled it a little. You could explore that more later, you supposed, too focussed on the way he slid the garment down over your thighs to pool at your feet. He hummed quietly as you continued to card through his hair, fingers stroking his scalp gently.

You followed his movement as he ducked lower, sucking a harsh breath through your teeth when you felt him kiss your hip bone, his tongue warm and silken. He did again, his moan soft moan when your fingers involuntarily tightened in his hair stifled by your pelvis. He was copying you, you realised, giving you a belt of kisses just like you’d done to him. Except he was moving lower now, becoming sloppier, gently sucking every now and then.

“What’re you doing?” you asked softly, frowning down at him.

“I want to taste you,” he murmured, not raising his head. “Want to make you feel good.”

Oh God. This man, you thought for the second time and certainly not the last. You laughed, the growing heat in your gut throbbing indignantly as you pulled him gently away. He pressed his cheek into your hand again as you let it fall from his hair, his brow pinched in confusion.

“Next time,” you told him, “ok?” Then, “And you already made me feel good. You fucked me so good it saved my life. Now it’s my turn, hm?”

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then the confusion cleared and he nodded, turning his head to kiss your wrist. He didn’t break eye contact as you knelt once more, rubbing your hands over his thighs again, up to his hips where you caressed the little belt of copper marks. You matched now. How cute.

You leaned forwards, kissing the spot where his leg met his body. If you turned your head just an inch, your mouth would be on his cock. It was hot to the touch, still wet with your makeshitft lube, still flushed deep bronze, now beaded with precum at the tip.

You looked up, meeting his eyes. “You tell me if you wanna stop, ok?”

“Ok.”

That was all you needed. You licked up the shaft, ignoring the twitch of his hips and the sharp gasp it conjured. He moaned – really moaned – when your lips closed over the head, then again, louder, as you relaxed your mouth and sank down on him. What didn’t fit in your mouth was taken care of by the hand that wasn’t holding his hips down, not that you’d be able to do much if he decided to face fuck you.

“(Y/N),” he panted, “oh my– (Y/N).”

“Good?” you mumbled, though it sounded nothing like the word. He seemed to get the idea.

“Yes, yes it’s– you’re– Oh!”

You’d sucked, hard, hollowing your cheeks and sliding your head down as far as you could. You drew back, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock before you did again. And again, and again.

He groaned your name as you sped up, hand moving in tandem with your mouth, hot and heavy against your tongue. His hand had found its way to your hair, not pushing or pulling, just resting on the back of your head as you practically swallowed his dick.

You’d never had a problem giving head. Liked it, sure, if the guy was nice, but you hadn’t loved it, and had never understood people who did. Now, as Adam cursed and whispered your name, all of it liberally punctuated by stilted moans and the occasional whine or grunt, you thought you got it. The idea that it was you doing that to him, you and you alone teasing forth those heady noises and making his body twitch and jerk like that… You could happily get on your knees for him every day of the rest of your life if this was what it was like every time.

You breathed deeply through your nose, the warm, sweet and very Adam smell of him managing somehow to overpower the ever growing mess of spit and a little sweat your hand was sliding through. Maybe with anyone else it would have been gross, but here it only forced your own soft moan before trickling to join the wetness growing between your legs. Earlier, as your mind had cleared, right as Adam had been lifting you off his lap, you’d decided that you never wanted to be aroused ever again. You were very happy that wish hadn’t come true as you squeezed your thighs together, eager for any friction you could get.

You could taste the saltiness of his precum at the back of your throat, feel the throb of his cock on your tongue as you relaxed even further, taking him deeper than you’d tried before. You prayed you weren’t about to make yourself throw up on him.

“(Y/N),” he choked, thumb rubbing tiny circles where it rested in your hair. That was going to be a bitch to untangle.

“Hm?”

“You’re so–” He broke off as you sucked hard, the muscles of his thighs and stomach tensing. “Ah, you’re so beautiful. So soft, you’re so… Oh, (Y/N)--”

You’d sped up at the praise, fuelled by the tiny, restrained thrusts into your mouth and the tightening of his hand in your hair. He was close, you could feel it, and you wanted nothing more than to make him cum in your mouth.

“So much,” he groaned. “It’s so… so much, I–”

You squeezed gently at his thigh, a silent reassurance. He’d cum before – in you, no less – but maybe you should have started with something that you could talk to him through. You could have used your hand and told him that it was ok, that he was doing well, while you kissed him and he made all those beautiful noises against your lips. Hell, you could have gone straight to the ninth yard and let him fill you up again, given him control.

Too late now, you supposed. His cock twitched, hips stuttering, whole body tensing. You squeezed his thigh again, I’ve got you, it’s alright, as he groaned deeply. His chest heaved, head tipped back as he came down your throat, hot and thick and salty. You didn’t stop your movements, hand and mouth working him through his high until there was no more. You pulled back and, after a moment’s hesitation, gently licked away the mess of your own spit coating him.

You sat back on your heels, hand still resting on his shaking leg, and took him in. He shone with more than his usual iridescence, a sheen of sweat clinging to his torso, some pieces of hair sticking to his forehead, face and neck flushed so prettily, breath still coming hard and fast. You’d done that. You’d made him look like that. You were responsible for the pure, raw pleasure painted in every line of his being.

“That was…” He broke off, swallowing hard before opening his eyes. He blinked, looked down at you on the floor, smiled. “That was incredible.”

You smiled back, taking his hands in both your own. “You taste fucking divine,” you whispered as you kissed his knuckles. “And you did so well.”

You couldn’t tell past the orgasm-glow, but you thought he might have blushed. “You’re so… so beautiful, (Y/N),” he repeated. “And so warm, and soft, I–”

Now you were blushing, heat rolling up your neck, over your cheeks. “You’re beautiful,” you said softly as you stood, leaning down to press your lips against his. They immediately parted, tongue sliding beside your own, eager and exploratory. You shivered as his hands came to rest on your hips once more, pulling you closer as he shuffled backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed.

“Adam,” you murmured, still bent over him.

He tried to pull you closer still, gently, but still insistent. “What?”

You tried not to laugh at the hint of frustration in his voice. “Bed’s in the way. I can’t get any closer.”

“Yes you can.” He broke away, frowning. “Just sit on me.”

“Sit on you?” You glanced at his lap, back up again, raising your eyebrows. Did you hear that right?

“Yes. Sit on me.” He pulled again, and you were struck suddenly by the realisation that he really didn’t have to ask – or tell – you to do anything. If he wanted you on top of him that badly, he could easily pick you up and place you there without breaking a sweat. Hell, he could throw you across the room if he really got the urge. But he wasn’t forcing you. Even the pressure on your hips was gentle enough that you could have pulled away any time you wanted.

“Ok,” you smiled, steadying yourself on his shoulders as you knelt over his thighs.

“You can relax,” he urged, his hands running down over your hips to your thighs, back up again and over your waist, around to your back. His arms circled you, head bent as he mouthed at your neck. “Don’t have to hold yourself up.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok.” You relaxed your legs, sinking down to rest atop his. He hadn’t stopped the attention he was giving to your neck, nosing your hair aside to kiss under your ear, along the hollow of your jaw, over your jugular, right across the tendons at the base of your throat. You tipped your head back for him, sighing in satisfaction as you ran your hand through his hair. His palms were warm where they pressed into your back, his chest and stomach smooth against your own.

“Closer,” he whispered under your ear, pushing you further up his legs.

You shifted, your stomach backflipping as your pelvis met his. He hummed into your skin, pressing you harder against himself, his cock hard again and hot where it lay between your bodies. His mouth had moved lower, to your breasts, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin just as gently as he’d done to your neck.

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” you breathed, rocking your hips.

“Hm, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You smiled at that. “You won’t, I promise. I wanna see this tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, and maybe even the day after that, too.”

You felt him nod, and then moaned because yes he was really using his mouth now. His teeth grazed your skin as he sucked a dark mark just below your collar bone, soothing it quickly with his tongue. He looked up at you momentarily for approval, and at your smile, bent again to repeat it. Yep, you were going to be seeing those for a while.

“Adam,” you gasped as he stooped lower, leaving a trail of wet hickeys down the centre of your chest.

“Hm?”

“I know I was kind of – oh – in control last time,” you started, biting your lip as he turned his attention to your breast. “Do you want – fuck, yes – to try being in charge?”

“No,” he said after a pause. He looked up, hand ghosting up your side to stroke a particularly large and dark hickey. “I liked it.”

That wasn’t what you’d been expecting. He was always so happy to go along with whatever everyone else was doing, which you supposed was another side effect of Sovereign upbringing, you’d assumed he might like to take the lead. He seemed to be having an excellent time exploring your body at his leisure.

“Ok then,” you smiled as you ground against him. “Do you want me to do it again?”

“Yes.” His breathing was heavy as he nodded. “Please, (Y/N).”

“Ok.” You reached down, taking his cock in your hand. “Ready?”

He broke away from your chest, looking up at you like you’d hung the bloody stars. His hand joined yours as he closed the distance, kissing you softly at first, then with less coordination as you lined him up and sank down, sighing against his lips. His fingers gripped your thigh, tight enough that you wondered if they were leaving marks, a deep groan echoing through the space between you.

“Alright?” you murmured, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked.

“Alright,” he echoed. He stroked up your leg, under the back of your thigh, squeezing gently at the soft flesh of your ass and lifting you. You wondered if he was trying to get you off him for a second, then he was lowering you back onto himself and it clicked.

“Like this?” you asked, rocking your hips over his. God, he fit so perfectly, it was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. How had you glossed over that the first time?

“Yes, yes,” he sighed. “(Y/N), you’re– yes, like that.”

You wondered if he knew what he was doing to you as you practically whined, steadying yourself against his shoulders just as you had before. His arm was around your waist, holding you close as you lifted and lowered your hips, your chest brushing his with every movement.

His lips had returned to your neck, warm and soft. “Is this good?” he asked as he sucked at the as yet unmarked skin there. “For you?”

Wow, you were ruined for anyone else. “So good, Adam,” you whispered, running your hands over his shoulders, the back of his neck. “You feel so fucking good.”

He groaned deep in his chest, his hips jerking up into yours. And oh if that didn’t turn you on more than you already were. Just your words could have that effect on him. Eight little words and your touch, and he did that. The power was intoxicating.

“What you do to me,” he was saying, guiding your movements. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“Yeah?” You slid one hand down, trailing over his chest and stomach before finding the mess of heat and slick and sweat where your body met his. Your fingers danced over your clit, a sharp hiss of air between your teeth.

“No idea,” he repeated, the words gliding over your skin like water.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “fuck, Adam. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You felt him smile. “Hm?”

“You feel fucking amazing,” you hissed past the steady pleasure-ache of his cock hitting that place deep inside you, your fingers on your clit. It was building with every slap of your hips against his, hot and tight.

“Oh, (Y/N)--”

“Love feeling you fill me up,” you continued. “Dreamed about what it’d be like.”

“What is it like?”

“Like – fuck, Adam – it’s like fucking Heaven, I swear–”

He groaned your name again, desperate and God, you were so close.

“You look like Heaven,” you panted, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his head back. You searched his face past the pleasure-haze already clouding your vision, dipping down to kiss him hard. It was as messy as the first not-quite-kiss had been, all tongue and breath and your whispered “so fucking pretty” as you licked into his mouth.

“So are you,” he managed, hands kneading at the soft skin of your waist and hips, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

“Love hearing you say my name,” you went on, your fingers working harder and faster. “All those sounds you make, so perfect–”

“(Y/N).” He said it like a prayer, like an incantation, and if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever heard, you didn’t know what was.

“Gonna make me cum, Adam holy shit–”

He thrust harder up into you, lips fastened to the hollow under your jaw, moving you hard and fast against himself. “Yes, do it, cum on me,” he babbled. “Let me make you feel good.”

That did it. The bomb of pleasure inside you exploded, fizzing out though your legs as you spasmed around him, a desperate cry of his name torn from you. You held him tight, fingers twisting in his hair, half conscious of his own litany of curses and praises and your name repeated throughout as he continued to move your boneless body. He spilled hot inside you, and when you finally regained control of your mind, he was breathing hard against your chest and shoulder.

“Are you alright?” you asked, combing your fingers through his hair.

“Yes,” he nodded. His grip on you had loosened considerably, his hands roaming soothingly up and down your back. “Are you?”

You sighed, then laughed as you drew back. His brow furrowed as you held his face between your hands. “Am I alright?” you echoed incredulously. “Adam, you are amazing.”

The frown deepened. “So… yes?”

“Yes.” You leaned down, pressing your lips to his. This kiss was gentle, slow and thorough, and he smiled at you when you parted. “Will you stay this time?” you asked.

“Yes.” Then, “Can I clean you up again?”

“Yes.” You sighed as he effortlessly shifted you off himself, setting you gently on the bed. You could feel his cum leaking slowly out of you, the air cool against your sweat, his spit still on your skin, and the mess of arousal around your crotch. He wasn’t in any better shape, really, but still he moved with ease and grace towards the doorway, returning in record time with a damp cloth.

Something inside you ached with how gentle he was. Thorough, but he drew away at the slightest hint of discomfort. He’d done this before, you supposed, when you’d been asleep. You remembered him telling you he was going to clean you up, had heard his footsteps retreating, but had dozed off before he’d returned. Still, you’d woken up relatively clean, and there’d been the blanket, too. If it had been anyone else the thought would have made you feel violated, perhaps, but not with him. With him it made your heart melt.

“Let me,” you said softly when he’d finished, taking the cloth and wiping at the mess around his crotch with a clean portion. You tossed the cloth aside when you were done, shuffling backwards, pulling him to lie with you. It took some wriggling, but eventually you settled face to face under the blanket, his arm draped over your ribs, fingers toying with the hair at the back of your head, your own hand splayed over his heart.

“I meant it,” he said softly. “What I said before.”

“Hm?”

“You’re important to me.” Although the bronze had faded from his face, leaving it the shining gold you were used to, his lips were still slightly swollen, his eyes bright. In the dimness of the corner of the room, with the light behind him, he seemed to glow.

“Oh,” you smiled, then sighed as you shifted barely an inch closer “You’re important to me too, Adam.”

He leaned forward over the tiny gap, kissing your lips ever so gently. “Can we… do this again? When we’re back?”

“Yeah. I’d like to.” You paused, taking your turn to kiss him. “I like being with you,” you whispered as you pulled away.

Adam smiled. His hand flattening against your shoulder blades, he pulled you in against his chest. His skin was so warm, and you could hear his heart beating, feel his breathing.

“I like being with you, too.”

Note: I feel like this wasn't quite up to par with what I've written in the past, and I'm genuinely not sure why or how I can fix it. I've re-read both of these like five times now (after finishing them) and have edited them endlessly, but I just can't seem to make them feel right. Anyone else every get that? Either way, hope you guys enjoyed these x

#adam warlock #adam warlock smut #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x you #mcu #marvel #gotg3 #gotg vol 3 #fanfiction #fanfic #shameless smut #smut

357 notes · View notes

gijoe-forever · 20 days

Text

'Today Skybound and Image Comics, in collaboration with leading toy and game company Hasbro, announced the upcoming fall release of G.I. JOE: A Real American Hero Compendium Vol. 1, which will collect every issue of the original Marvel Comics series for the iconic franchise in a new reader-friendly compendium format for the very first time.

“This compendium marks the beginning of Skybound collecting Hasbro’s incredible backlist of G.I. JOE comics,” said Sean Mackiewicz, SVP, Publisher, Skybound. “G.I. JOE: A Real American Hero was my first comic, bursting with incredible characters and intense action, and it’s a pleasure to reintroduce readers to the original Hasbro comics that hooked a generation of fans.”

The pop culture world changed forever when Larry Hama’s G.I. JOE: A Real American Hero made its comic book debut, and now fans can experience every issue from the original series and its tie-ins with the all-new compendium release, printed on newsprint for that classic comic feeling,

Featuring the legendary series writer Larry Hama (Wolverine), artists Herb Trimpe (The Incredible Hulk) and Bob McLeod (The New Mutants), with cover art by the incomparable Andy Kubert (X-Men), G.I. JOE: A Real American Hero Compendium Vol. 1, collects issues #1-50 of one of the longest running non-superhero series into a complete compendium for the first time ever.

Readers can expect to discover the incredible heroes of G.I. JOE, the terrifying villains of Cobra, and the unforgettable stories that set them on a collision course, when the first volume hits comic book shops on October 2, 2024. printed on newsprint for that classic comic feeling,

The kickoff to Skybound’s ongoing compendium releases is an integral component of its overall comics partnership with Hasbo. While the Energon Universe has delivered a fresh new start for these franchises in Void Rivals by writer Robert Kirkman (Invincible, The Walking Dead) and artist Lorenzo De Felici (Oblivion Song), TRANSFORMERS by writer Daniel Warren Johnson (Extremity, Do a Powerbomb) and artist Jorge Corona (Middlewest), Duke by writer Joshua Williamson (DC’s Superman, Dark Ride) and artist Tom Reilly (The Thing), and Cobra Commander by writer Joshua Williamson and artist Andrea Milana (Impact Winter: Rook), these compendiums celebrate the rich histories of TRANSFORMERS and G.I. JOE in comic book form.

Skybound and Hasbro have also brought back the hit series G.I. JOE: A Real American Hero to fans, from series writer Larry Hama and artist Chris Mooneyham (DC’s Nightwing, Sgt. Rock and the Unknown Soldier).

G.I. JOE: A Real American Hero Compendium Vol. 1 (ISBN: 978-1-5343-7150-7| MSRP: $64.99) will be available at comic book shops on Wednesday, October 2, 2024, and at booksellers, along with digital platforms including Amazon Kindle, Apple Books, comiXology, and Google Play on Tuesday, October 15, 2024.'

https://www.skybound.com/announcements/g-i-joe/skybound-image-hasbro-announce-g-i-joe-a-real-american-hero-compendium

23 notes · View notes

savage-kult-of-gorthaur · 5 months

Text

"....CAPTAIN MAR-VELL WAS THE YOUNG CAPTAIN SLATED TO BE THE FIRST TO MAKE CONTACT WITH HUMANITY."

PIC INFO: Spotlight on a splash page featuring Silver Age Captain Marvel, a.k.a., "Mar-Vell," Kree Sentries on the rampage, and Carol Danvers upon their first encounter with the Kree warrior, from "UNIVERSE X" Vol. 1 #0. September, 2000. Marvel Comics.

Pencils by Doug Braithwaite

Inks by Bill Reinhold

Colors by Laura Depuy

Letters by Todd Klein

"The Supreme Intelligence launched a Kree mission to Earth. Captain Mar-Vell was the young captain slated to be the first to make contact with humanity. If you measure movement according to the ability to exact change in a given situation, the Earth really did stand still that day. Mar-Vell came as a spy, but found himself soon thrust into the role of hero."

-- KYLE RICHMOND, formerly Nighthawk, Earth-9997 (story/script by Jim Krueger & Alex Ross)

Source: www.zipcomic.com/universe-x-issue-0.

3 notes · View notes

aliciasfantasyxox · 7 months

Text

141 notes · View notes

nebulousbrainsoup · 11 months

Text

neb.atz.masterlist

tags || [a] angst ; [au] alternate universe ; [f] fluff ; [hc] headcanons ; [s] smut ; [sugg] suggestive ; [sm] social media au ; [req] request ; [misc]

multi-member

comfort texts, exam edition [f,smau] ✧ part one | part two dancing in the rain headcanons [f] ✧ hyung line | maknae line ateez random texts [misc,smau] ✧ one ✧ two (may 4th seonghwa edition) ✧ three (wooyoung's luggage debacle) ateez reacts ✧ chronic illness hospital visit [f] ✧ class reunion ft. their first love [f,a] ateez x star wars au [misc] ✧ teaser one | teaser two

kim hongjoong

As a Secret Admirer [f,hc,req] business attire [s,f] Five Minutes [f,misc] Mine [s,f,req] hard thoughts ; vol. 4 soft thoughts ; vol. 1 (ft. wooyoung)

park seonghwa

Always, For You. [s,f] Relax. [s,req]

jeong yunho

hard thoughts ; vol. 3

kang yeosang

EVOLVE [a,s,f] quiet [s,f] Insurrection [a,s] ✧ Chapter 1: Catalyst

choi san

hard thoughts ; vol. 2 [s,req] [COMING SOON] untitled (ft. jung wooyoung) [s,req]

song mingi

hard thoughts ; vol. 1 [s,req]

jung wooyoung

Day One [f,s] soft thoughts ; vol. 1 (ft. hongjoong)

choi jongho

pending...

#neb.atz #neb.masterlist #ateez #ateez masterlist #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #song mingi #choi san #jung wooyoung #choi jongho

91 notes · View notes

totally-not-here-for-the-smut · 8 months

Text

☆~Masterlist~☆

Requests: Open

Bc requests make me happy :)

Here's what I do

Key, in increasing lemon level:

◇ This is plain random stuff

♡ Relationships, Affection & Teasing

♧ Fluff, Light Smut

♤ HERE BE THE BIG DONGS BEWARE

Arcana Fanfictions

Loved & Lost

A gritty, angst prequel about the plague times. Tells the story of MC becoming Julian's medicine apprentice, and the ups and downs of their relationship with Asra during those hard times. It's kinda intense, but I changed the color of the triggering parts so you can enjoy it anyway.

NSFW alphabets ♤

Lucio

Julian

Late night headcanons ♧♡

Handling Trauma (healing intimacy) -Muriel ♧♡

Handling Trauma -Asra ♤♧♡

What "innocent" detail of the M6 will make your blood boil? ♧

Sexy Lingerie ♧

Asra angst - Julian smut♧

MurielxNadia

So it begins ◇

The proposal ◇

Compassion ◇♡

Daring conditions◇

The revelation incident◇

The Arcana Files (my theories on this universe) ◇

Vesuvia Geopolitics

The mariner republics

Why is Lucio count of Vesuvia?

Long Live the goatman - why I think Lucio's route is great (tw: mental illness)

Asra is great, but also grey

About demons - theories about nabestetics post

ADHD in Vesuvia

Quick Headcanons

M6's Children ◇1, 2, 3, 4, 5

M6 favourite places to winkwink ♧♡

First date places♡◇

Relax for the m6◇

The M6 during a boring lecture◇

Winter Masquerade outfits ◇

New year party ◇

Zombie apocalypse ◇

Sci-fi Movie◇

Vampire AU◇

Fairytale AU♡◇

Asra Angst

Ask prompts

What would make the M6 happy◇♡

The M6 with an hypersomniac apprentice ♡◇♧♤ imho this dongs are great

Baby Fever♢♧♡♤

The M6 reacts to a bold MC flirting with them ♧♡

Overstimulation & Edging ♤♧

Overstimulation & Edging vol.2 ♤♧

The m6 with an MC who has an hard time coming ♤♡♧

Squirting headcanons ♤♧

Infertility issues ♡

Flinching MC ♡♧

M6 with Blind MC ◇♡

M6 reacts to naked-in-bed♧

Currently working on:

If you requested something and I'm writing it, it will appear here. No srsly, I forget things if I don't keep a neat project tracker

The Midsummer's Masquerade ♤♧

More prompts

The M6 kinks and why they have it

Ask: smut scene with Asra ♤♧

Ask: M6 react to blind MC

Vesuvia geopolitics chapt.3◇

Handling Trauma - Nadia, Lucio and Julian//♡♤♧ I was super scared to upset people with this, but apparently it does work! I love it, gonna post more.

NSFW alphabet ♤

Apprentice's portait ◇

Nadia x Muriel ♡◇ //feel like it's not working, it's now on the backburner

This prompts ♤♧

Some very angsty shit about the beginning of MC x Julian & the real reason behin Asra's guilt ♤♡♧ (Loved & Lost chapt. 3)

Smth about jealousy and cheating, idk

Feel free to pressure me and ask for new chapters of stuff you're liking because I tend to forget it and I apprecieate your requests!

Contributes are ☆Open☆

If you got good stuff, feel free to send good stuff

I love you smut & angst dealers

There's nothing wrong with writer's propaganda

I love tiny fanfic gnomes too

Reading list

#masterlist #the arcana #the arcana game #arcana smut #the arcana smut

55 notes · View notes

gorogues · 3 months

Text

Spoilers for comics in April!

These are from the official solicits for that month, which you can see in full at Adventures In Poor Taste.

SUICIDE SQUAD: KILL ARKHAM ASYLUM #4 Written by JOHN LAYMAN Art by JESÚS HERVÁS Cover by DAN PANOSIAN Variant cover by ARIEL OLIVETTI Variant cover by DAVID NAKAYAMA $4.99 US | 32 pages | 4 of 5 | Variant $5.99 US (card stock) ON SALE 5/7/24 It takes more than a boomerang to survive a riot at Arkham Asylum, and all its super-powered rioters. This in particular sucks if a boomerang is your weapon of choice, and your name is Captain Boomerang. So, to survive you join up with some allies. But be careful who you join with, because nobody is to be trusted, and your allies just might be worse than your enemies. Presenting the most brain-bending, backstabbing, boomeranging-est episode yet of Rocksteady’s Suicide Squad: Kill The Justice League! Each print issue includes a redeemable code for a bonus weapon doll digital token in Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League inspired by the comics. Get the new Mad Hatter weapon doll digital token with issue #4. Paying subscribers with a DC Universe Infinite Annual or Ultra subscription (U.S. only) who read the digital issues of Suicide Squad: Kill Arkham Asylum will also receive these bonus digital codes.* *Terms Apply. See dc.com/suicide-squad-faq for details. DC UNIVERSE INFINITE is not intended for children.

Ah Digger, never change.

This next book reprints some Webtoons strips, which has a new Mirror Master.

RED HOOD: OUTLAWS VOLUME TWO Written by PATRICK R. YOUNG Art by NICO BASCUÑÁN, JAVIER RODRÍGUEZ VÉJARES, and SEBASTIÁN FRANCHINI Cover by VASCO GEORGIEV $14.99 US | 208 pages | Softcover | 6″ x 9″ | ISBN: 978-1-77952-689-2 ON SALE 7/2/24 Jason Todd, Bizarro, and Artemis know what it means to play second fiddle to the Justice League…but now, that is even more the case as they’ve been contracted into work-for-hire duty by none other than Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman. All aboard the Watchtower as the new Outlaws tackle a meddling Medusa and take a trip to the Mirror Dimension to face Mirror Master himself (along with some other Bizarro versions of our great trio). Can the Outlaws handle the twisted reflections of themselves? Or will they succumb to pressure from all (literal) angles?! Collecting episodes 12-22 of WEBTOON’s smash-hit series, optimized for a brand-new reading experience in print. Your new favorite series continues!

And we're finally getting a William Messner-Loebs Omnibus! For those not familiar with it, this (partially) covers the run which introduced Hartley's reform and coming out. However, this particular volume won't contain the coming out issue; that'll probably be in the next one.

THE FLASH BY WILLIAM MESSNER-LOEBS AND GREG LaROCQUE OMNIBUS VOL. 1 Written by WILLIAM MESSNER-LOEBS and MIKE BARON Art by GREG LaROCQUE, BUTCH GUICE, and others Cover by GREG LaROCQUE $125.00 US | 986 pages | 7 1/16″ x 10 7/8″ | Hardcover | ISBN: 978-1-77952-581-9 ON SALE 6/18/24 Following the death of Barry Allen, Wally West will don the red suit and become the new Fastest Man Alive. Kid Flash no more, Wally must pave his own path forward and live up to the legacy of the man who saved the universe. Collects The Flash #1-28, The Flash Annual #1-3, Manhunter #8-9, Secret Origins Annual #2, and pages from Invasion! #2-3, featuring over a dozen never-before-collected issues.

#Captain Boomerang #Pied Piper #Mirror Master #Harley Quinn #Deadshot #spoilers: comics #solicits #King Shark #the Flash #Suicide Squad Kill the Justice League

50 notes · View notes

atlaese · 2 years

Text

at the end of the cul-de-sac — s.h.

summary: almost 10 years after leaving Hawkins and subsequently your best friend, you move back to start university. Haphazardly reconnecting with Steve means old feelings might resurface — if Steve hasn't moved on to another already.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader tw: childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, no spoilers, minor mentions of injury sustained as a kid (scraped knee kinda stuff), misunderstandings (so a tiny smidge of angst) robin is a sweetheart <3, I have decided there is a uni close to hawkins, happy fluffy ending!! words: 4.4K a/n: hi! i started writing this somewhere after vol 1. but I had finals, went to a festival & had covid, so that's why I only got to publish it now. i still hope you enjoy it though <3 thanks for the support <3 and I hope you have a good week!! p.s. i now have a library blog! go follow @aeristhotle and turn on notifs to get notified when i update!

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ✨💗

STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS

It had been nearly a decade since you said goodbye to Hawkins, Indiana, trading in the sleepy town for the bustling city of Washington. Your father had accepted some office job that forced you to say goodbye to everything you had ever known in your life.

You remembered thinking that it was the end of the world, leaving behind all your friends that had been there since the very beginning when you finally drove away from the street you grew up in.

The pale yellow house at the end of the cul-de-sac, the old pine your dad always complained about, the leaky gutter that always overflowed when there was a storm and the dent in the wall from where you had butted your head after cutting the corner short and sliding straight into the wall.

Now, it was all getting smaller as you looked out of the rear window, a long drive ahead of you. It was such a peculiar feeling to say goodbye to the home you grew up in. The place where you lost your baby teeth, where your dad taught you to drive a bike, the stick of a broom taped on as a handle to keep you balanced.

As your dad rounded a corner, the house finally disappeared from your vision. You weren’t sure if you’d ever see the house or the street it sat on ever again. Goodbye to the park behind the Rodneys house, goodbye to the countless hours you spend playing on the carousel and goodbye to the monkey bars you sat on as Steve climbed up the steps to join you.

Goodbye to Steve, too.

“I’ll write you letters, I have new stickers to decorate them, too,” you said, sitting next to Steve on the carpet at your house. The Harrington’s came over to say goodbye to your family, your parents’ friends ever since high school.

“You have to!” Steve exclaimed, his little hands wildly gesturing. “You should send me a postcard of the Lady of Liberty, I heard she’s like 1000 feet tall or something.”

“Lady Liberty is in New York City, silly,” you corrected him, “I’m not sure she’s that tall, but if we ever visit her I’ll let you know.”

Laughter drifted in from the backyard where your parents were having drinks, and Steve’s head dropped down. Even at age 10, his hair had a life of its own, curls sticking out in every possible way.

“Do you really have to go with them? I’m sure my mom would let you sleep on the couch if you asked her nicely,” Steve said, his voice toning down as the weight of the situation finally dawned on him.

You grabbed his hand in yours, two little palms fitting over each other as they had done so many times before.

“I’m starting at the new school next week and most of my stuff is already packed and ready to go in the truck.”

Steve nodded, brown eyes getting a little red now he was sure his best friend was permanently leaving his life.

“We have to keep in touch, pinky promise,” he finally looked up, his other pinky out for one of the most sacred promises a little kid could make.

“Promise,” you said, wrapping your pinky around his as you had a final look at his boyish face.

Promises made by little kids never are followed-up, unfortunately.

You wrote Steve three postcards and he called you twice on the house phone before you lost contact.

You quickly moved on to new friends at your school and Steve started hanging out with Tommy and Carol. Kids are always more focused on the present rather than on the past. You couldn’t blame it on anyone.

Steve Harrington would be nothing more than a sweet childhood memory, someone you thought about when you passed by the monkey bars or when one of your friends started dating a Stephen. A fleeting thought – a second that brought a smile to your face before disappearing again. Yet, he always held this fond space in your heart – and you knew that feeling would be for forever, and it was fine like that.

And now you are back in Hawkins, a little less than a decade later, a little taller than before and freshly graduated from high school, ready to start university close to the town you once called home. It only made sense for both you and your parents that you’d move back to the safety of the small town. God knows what goes on in those big cities.

The fact that Steve probably still lived in Hawkins was the deciding factor to pack your belongings and move back. Something, somewhere deep inside you longed to be close to Steve again.

Though you had made new best friends, Steve was still the one that held a big piece of your heart. You had been friends from the very beginning, and it felt impossible to share such a bond with anyone else. A little voice at the back of your mind whispered that Steve would still be there, still the same loving boy who once called himself your best friend and that you’d be back to said status in no time. The same voice also whispered in your ear how Steve might have waited for you and you felt flutters erupt in your stomach. You always had a weak spot for his droopy brown eyes.

It was a tiny apartment that once belonged to one of your grandparents, a fifteen-minute drive to your campus, and close to both the local supermarket and some other shops you were sure you’d frequent often.

One of those shops was a branch store of Family Video and it was coincidentally the last thing on your list after a long day of moving in.

Your plans were to rent a movie, pop a frozen dinner in the microwave, and enjoy your newfound freedom away from parental figures. The next few days you’d hoped to come across some familiar faces, but tonight you just wanted to get settled in.

It felt good to be an unsupervised adult.

The store was quite busy as you pushed open the door, most of Hawkins’ pre-teens and young adults looking for the perfect movie to end their day.

You slid into an aisle and tapped with your fingers against the spines of the VHSs, mumbling the names of the movies as you passed them.

“E.T., seen already,” you murmured against yourself. “Superman was boring, let’s be honest.”

Your eyes landed on Ordinary People, and you grabbed the VHS and went on your way to the cash register. There was no use in hesitating to choose – with half of Hawkins in the store you didn’t want anyone to snatch the movie away right in front of your eyes.

“Hey, you little shit, that one is too scary for you, it says 18+ for a reason!”

“Quit bullshitting, it’s just a serial killer, you know I’ve seen worse,” a teen said to someone typing away at a computer, his face hidden by the massive machine. “C’mon man, you know I’ll keep complaining until I have it.”

The teen kept sliding the VHS over the counter, only for the cashier to slide it right back without even taking a second look at it.

“Knock it off, Dustin, you’re gonna scare the customers away and I can’t lose another job!”

Dustin was about to slide the VHS over again, probably with a come-back, when he saw you standing behind him.

“Look I’ll even let the lady go in front of me, and you better get me this movie after as I’m also a paying customer!”

You pressed your lips together in a smile as a way to say thank you and pushed the VHS over the counter, hoping to get out of the busy shop quickly.

“Name, please?” the guy said, not even looking up from the screen.

You had just uttered your first name, hadn’t even started on your last name as his head whipped away from the screen, brown eyes scanning your face instead of putting the movie in the system and telling you when to bring it back.

“Y/N?” he muttered, the floppy brown hair and puckered pink lips reminding you of your childhood best friend.

“It’s Steve, Steve Harrington,” he said now, still not believing it was you who was standing at his counter, so many years after he had last seen you. “You remember me, right?”

He, too, had grown a fair bit taller, but he still had that same doe-eyed look in his eyes, he still puckered his lips in the same way – he just had a little more confidence than when you left him. He had finally grown into that massive head of his and it looked like he found his own style, not anything like the clothes ms. Harrington used to put him in. Imagine if he still wore those obnoxious trousers with suspenders and a shirt with the top button done.

“Of course, I remember you, Steve,” you said, “I never forgave myself that we lost touch. Never.”

Steve looked down, guilt painted on his features as he recalled the few times he did reach out to you. “Me neither. I lost one of the best friends I ever had and it was my own fault.”

“But you’re back now!” he added, a new sense of joy replaced the guilt on his face. “Or is it just temporary?”

“I’m here for college, so we’ll see how that works out.”

“Hey now, you knew all 50 states before I could even say the alphabet, you’ll do great.”

You were about to ask him to hang out later, to reminisce about old times and to catch up on what you’d missed the last few years when a beautiful girl popped up behind him, a million freckles gracing her face – each one seeming to call Steve’s attention.

At her appearance, you immediately felt your confidence chipping away. The joyful bubble burst and it was time to pack up the beautiful daydream that started forming in your mind.

Why would he have waited on you? There had never been an indication you’d come back, never a moment where you had gotten back in touch with him. Who’s to say he hadn’t moved on and forgotten about how good you two were together? Why would he ever wait for a possible ‘what if’ if there were so many other opportunities, right here in Hawkins?

“Hey dipshit,” she called out to Dustin, slinging an arm over Steve’s shoulders as he remained comfortable under her touch. “How many times have we said no about the 18+ movies? You’re lucky we’re letting you get the 16+ ones!”

“Robin, stay out of this,” Dustin now bit back good-naturedly, still tightly gripping the VHS, now counting a few coins as he seemed to be 100% sure he’d get the movie.

How foolish that you thought you could just waltz back into Hawkins and expect everything to be the same. Steve was even friends with random kids now, and here you were, thinking that you could pick up where you left off.

“Uhm, so when do I bring this back?” you spoke up, making Steve whip his head back to you as Robin checked you out, her eyes carrying an analytical weight trying to figure out who you were.

“It’s uh, one week, so next Saturday, but you can always call to extend,” Steve said, not realizing how uncomfortable you were all of a sudden.

You rummaged around in your bag in search of a few dollar bills in exchange for the movie, “yeah… I’ll be fine, a week, okay.”

You hastily pressed the few dollars against the counter and plastered a quick smile on your face.

“Hey, y/n, Robin and I were thinking of hanging out tonight if you wanna come.”

Steve looked at you expectantly, brown eyes hopeful for an affirmative answer, but Robin’s stare made it into a definitive ‘no’ as much as you wanted to say yes. Her stare wasn’t mean or anything, you just felt like you had disrupted a moment between them and wanted to get out as quickly as possible.

“No, it’s fine, I really need to get home,” you said as you already started backing off. “Moving. Shit ton of work, you know.”

You were out of the store in the blink of an eye, leaving Steve wondering if he had said something wrong.

“Do you know her?” Robin asked, now picking at her nails as she threw another death stare at Dustin. “It’s still a no for you.”

“Yeah,” he trailed off, still looking at the door where you disappeared through. “That was my best friend who moved away.”

“That's the best friend huh?”

Robin now flashed her signature smirk, unknowing to Steve.

“Got anything to tell us, Steve?” Dustin now piped up after seeing Robin’s smirk. “You’re not really one to reminisce about the past.”

“Growing up with someone… it’s different. She was my whole life and I was hers,” Steve softly said, eyes glazed over with a mixture of wanting, loss, and a speck of hope. “You should know how bad it is to lose a friend like that.”

Dustin and Robin shared a look. They couldn’t believe the effect you had left on Steve, even if it was just a short visit.

“Whatever.” Steve stood up, shaking the feeling off and straightening up. “Hey, you get another movie now , or I ban you for the next year. Yeah, a year, you heard it right.”

“C’mon Steve, you’re being an ass,” Dustin pleaded, still trying one last time to get the adult-rated movie for his own movie night.

“Now!”

“Fine! Jesus, you’re getting old and cranky already,” Dustin stormed off, immediately talking in his headset to relay the message to his other friends, probably already scheming revenge on the older brunette.

“They’re your kids,” Robin snorted as she turned around to get back to reshelving VHS tapes, leaving Steve who felt like he had just been hit by a bat – twice.

After sulking all weekend that perhaps you weren’t as memorable as you thought, you returned to the video store on Monday, hoping to quietly drop off the movie and not come across the two people you desperately wanted to avoid. Egos were on the line, okay?

You not so subtly peered through the glass into the store, your body poorly hidden by a few huge cutouts in the shop window. It felt like you were starring in a bad detective movie.

It was a quiet Monday at noon, with one car in the parking lot and no one visibly behind the counter.

Would it be so horrible if you just left the VHS on the counter and made a run for it?

The door creaked as you pushed it open, which made Robin’s head pop out from under the counter immediately, her brown-blondish hair a fashionable mess as she plastered a smile on her face.

If it was socially acceptable to throw the VHS in her vicinity and run as fast as your feet could – you’d do it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t and Robin was already waiting behind the counter for you, her fingers rhythmically tapping the wood.

“That was quick,” she stated as you slid the VHS over the counter, avoiding her eyes as she kind of intimidated you.

“No use in keeping it longer than I have to.”

You politely nodded and tapped the counter before turning back to the exit.

“He has told me a lot about you, you know, the past few years that I’ve gotten to know him.”

“Me?” you said as you turned around. Why would Steve be talking about you still? To someone that you didn’t know? Someone who could mean a whole lot more to him than you ever did.

“Yeah,” her voice had a hoarse tinge to it as a smile overtook her face. “When a certain song came on the radio he’d say something like ‘this song was y/n’s favourite’ or when we passed by that one curb he’d say ‘I ate shit here and y/n patched me up with those blue bandaids with little teddy bears on them.’”

“He talked about me?” you repeated, still not believing her, though everything she mentioned sounded like things that happened in your past, stuff that you had seemingly forgotten and now it replayed in your mind.

“That boy was in love with you and I don’t think a lot has changed.”

There was a lighthearted smirk on her face when she saw you get flustered, a sudden meek smile transforming your face in a heartbeat.

“Don’t… you didn’t know him back then,” you countered, trying not to get the lighthearted feelings to your head. “He’s always been a flirt, he’s always been like that.”

“No no no,” she shook her head, her hair happily bouncing around, her freckles blurring together. “I know Steve and the way he acted after you left? That didn’t even happen when he started crushing on Nancy again.”

“Again?”

“She’s long in the past – just a mere detour from you ! Don’t worry about it,” Robin waved your worries away, her giddy nature making you feel giddy about it as well. Maybe you really shouldn’t have judged so quickly.

“C’mon, let me set you up or something, it’s been a while since I won a bet from Henderson.”

“You’re betting? Already?” you asked. It was never good if bets were involved, but Robin seemed so trustworthy.

“You’ll get used to it,” she winked, preluding that maybe many more adventures with this group of friends would happen. “Do you want me to call Steve? I bet he’d get that ass over here in a heartbeat for you.”

You laughed at her readiness to change up her whole day, even if it was a slow day at the store.

“No, it’s okay, I need some time to think,” you rapped your fingers on the counter before pushing off towards the exit. “But I really appreciate this, Robin, I’m a little less doubtful about the future now.”

“Where are you going?” she called out. “It’s so boring here I need entertainment!”

“To this place where I bust my knee once,” you said, pointing to the knee with the weird scar. “It’s a special place to me.”

“Alright,” you heard her trail off before you left the store and got into your car. “I don’t like places that have bad memories but okay…”

The park behind the Rodneys house was still there, though the Rodneys themselves were no longer there, the house was now just gathering dust, well on its way to becoming the backdrop for many ghost stories.

The swingset had gathered some rust during the time you were away, the shackles making that eerie sound that every small town swing set seemed to make.

But as you sat down on the weathered wood, you instantly felt years younger – as if the swingset was a time machine that transported you right back to before you left. The only thing missing was Steve pushing you, his giggles and snorts floating up in the air as you encouraged him to push you even higher.

After everything Robin had told you, you desperately needed some time to think and process – the apartment felt suffocating and you didn’t want to hang around town in fear of encountering the one your thoughts were filled with.

Then you found yourself in front of the old park where you spend many hours running around with Steve and it all clicked.

Leaning your head against the shackles of the swing, you softly swung and watched the sunset. The sky was painted in hues of ripe plums and fresh raspberries – the colours bleeding over into each other as if someone had accidentally mashed the juicy fruits together. But just as everything that happened by accident, it had a bittersweet undertone that made everything worth it.

Just like years ago, it didn’t take him long to find you.

The other swing creaked as he sat down on it, his feet now touching the ground as his legs had grown, unlike back then when he barely could get up on the swing without almost breaking his neck.

You both stared at the skies for a bit, words on the tips of your tongues but not willing to break the silence that felt safe – just like how a kid felt safe from the monsters under the blankets.

“I was thrown off when I saw Robin,” you started, testing the waters as you kept staring in front of you. “Though I had no reason to be, it was stupid and I’m sorry for assuming stuff and running off like that.”

Steve let out a soft sigh as he pushed his hand through his hair, his lips as always cherry-coloured. “You really don’t have to apologise. You did what any normal human being would do.”

The words clung to the air as you felt a little breeze pick up, the leaves on the bushes adding to the background noise.

“How’d you know I was here anyway?”

“Where you busted your knee and then had to get stitches and they healed in this super odd shape that either resembles an open mouth or weirdly shaped D .”

“Robin,” you tsked. “Right, you were there.”

“I held your hand while they put in the stitches,” he snorted, eyes zeroing in on the scar on your knee. “You had a tight-ass grip for an 8-year-old.”

“After all those hours with you on the jungle gym, you bet I had developed some muscles already!”

Once more you felt like no time had passed between you leaving and coming back. Between leaving Steve behind and finding him back. And even if time did pass, it felt like you could just continue on from the point where you left – the shared history would always be there as a background to provide a common ground no other people had. It was unique to the two of you – something you’d never find in any other person.

“I did move on, you know,” he now made eye contact as he spoke truthfully, the pinkish colours of the sky now beautifully reflecting on one half of his face. “I moved on many times, yet any time I came close to loving someone, you were always at the back of my mind. Always.”

And while that statement did hurt, it also felt very familiar. It was something you, too, could relate to. To the loving someone else, yet this one person is still on the back of your mind, an itch waiting to be scratched, a memory, hidden somewhere deep only you could find.

And Steve would be the only one to understand, too. Your new friends in the city couldn’t understand the impact he had had on you, just like his new friends couldn’t understand it to its full extent either.

“There was always this ‘what if’ scenario,” you whispered back, your hand now coming up to still the swing he was sitting on so you were at the same level.

“Uhu,” he murmured back, his eyes constantly twitching between your eyes and your lips as your bodies were now immensely close you could feel the heat radiating off from him.

God, how handsome he had become.

“I know we haven’t seen each other in like…years, but it feels like hardly any time has passed. Like we were both stuck in a limbo while the rest of the world kept turning,” you softly said.

“You were always better at putting things in words than I was,” Steve mused, his left hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I feel exactly the same.”

At that moment, it felt like the final puzzle pieces fell into place – the jagged edges morphed together into a perfect picture.

His lips on yours were an unfamiliar feeling, yet it couldn’t feel more like coming home – that warmth and the softness, the scent of his cologne, and the hand on your cheek that was shivering just a little.

It couldn’t be more perfect.

After pulling away from this sweet kiss, Steve immediately pulled you back, a feverish look on his face as he couldn’t get enough of the feeling. Couldn’t get enough of you. Couldn’t get enough of this sudden hold you had on him, again. He had always been yours, even when the two of you didn’t know.

Both his hands were now holding on to your face, as yours were trying to stabilise the swings you were on, though most of your concentration was focused on Steve.

Steve’s hands, his lips, the feeling of the slight stubble that was rubbing against your skin, his scent that still smelled like him, just now the added intoxicating smell of his cologne that made your head spin round and round.

The two of you had sat there for hours, it felt like, but it could also be a few seconds. The only thing that marked the passage of time was the sky that had turned into a purplish blue, the sun now fully gone and a few stars twinkling in the sky.

“Just for the record,” Steve broke the kiss, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. “You’ll be here for a while, yeah? No running off to the big city any time soon?”

You pressed a soft kiss against his lips, a smile curving against cherry red lips from kissing.

“I’ll stay here, Harrington, even if it’s just to see your stupid face,” you laughed, putting a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Still, we can always meet here, at the end of the cul-de-sac.”

“Hmm, I’ll take what I can get,” he pressed a kiss against your cheek, then onto the corner of your lips. “Even if it’s just a few kisses at the end of the cul-de-sac.”

Once more, you kissed him.

Though it had been a long time since you were in Hawkins, these first few days showed that the sleepy town hadn’t changed a whole lot and that you still fit perfectly into this town, right beside your childhood best friend, once again ready to face the world together.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader fluff #stranger things imagine #ariwrites

406 notes · View notes