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m-ayo-o · 3 months

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how the jjk men treat shy and kinky grls :s

~ reader gets embarrassed from pda -> nsfw; crack ish + smut ! sex mention, anal, sub!gojo (whiny and needy), fingering, oral, overstimulation, ass eating, premature ejaculation

Toji

He's so confused. Like, last night you were asking him to put his cock in your ass and now you can barely look at him?

He gets all up in your face and teases you about it, loving how you're so embarrassed from what he did to you. He grins over your lips and tries to kiss you but you just dip your head down and push on his chest. He wants to wrap an arm around you anytime you're in public to claim you; over your shoulder, around your waist. He'll try to grab onto your arm or your hand, but you wriggle out of his grip and shy away.

And when you're in a bar, late, with his friends and yours, he wants to squeeze your ass but you just can't handle it. He pulls you between his legs and slides his hands down your back where he's sat on a bar stool, making your entire body heat up when he reaches your plushy cheeks. Your eyes dart around, looking everywhere but the smug smile on his face, but he just laughs and grabs you harder.

"Hey, what's up, why can't I touch you, hm? 'Sure changed your tune from last night, sweet. Tch- come back here you silly girl. Can't keep my hands off you, no- no I just wanna touch your ass, let me, don't be shy."

Satoru

Your nights together are eye opening for this man. You are showing him filthy things. Filthy hot things with your body and his. You found his praise kink along with his g spot, and with this combination you basically rule his body. The way he cums takes your breath away; he's so loud it's addictive, and when he begs to fuck you, you just can't say no.

But the next day when he needs to be all over you, he takes it so personally when you don't let him. He sighs dramatically and tries to drape his arms around you at any given moment, but you bite your lip with heat rising on your cheeks and tell him it's too much. Of course he starts pouting and whining to no end, like he's entitled to touch you.

After trying to push his massive body away you see his crystal eyes go all wide and watery and he looks like he's going to cry, so you let him get closer and hold onto you while you walk round the shopping mall.

"Babyyyy, I wanna hug you- noo it's not fair, hey don't look at me like that... what do you mean I can't touch you? Um, no. No, I'm hugging you- wait, please?! I let you do all that to me last night... now you don't want me near you?"

Kento

He fingered you last night. He had you on his lap, kissing you and touching you till you soaked his pants. He took his fingers up to your lips and told you to suck, getting them nice and wet, before dragging them down your body and plunging them into your pussy. He fucked you so wide you started crying, and he watched you spill all over him, humping him stupidly.

He smiled and told you what a good girl you are, and that you should lie down on the bed and let him give you some more. And before you know it you're creaming on his tongue again and again, then you hear the low buzz of a vibrator and you can barely take it. You cry and moan through the overstimulation but he hushes you softly, telling you to stay still.

And after your intense night, he takes you out for dinner the next day and he wants to hold your hand over the table. He slides his fingers into your palm and you suddenly look away and close up your hand, retracting your arms and hiding them under the table. He gives you an understanding smile- you must've been thinking about what he did with those fingers last night.

"I had fun, yeah really- no, no honey it's all about you. Same again tonight? No? Haha okay I admit I was being greedy. Mm, you just feel so warm and soft, I can't help but touch you- sorry, it's too much? Oh, no it's ok sweetheart."

Suguru

He wants to hold you. He wants to place his hand on your lower back while you stroll around the city. His touch is calming and respectful; he only wants to guide you and make you feel safe. But after last night, when he pressed on the same spot on your back, you're getting so shy with him.

He pushed you into the mattress and spread you open, sinking his tongue inside you with his nose between your ass cheeks. He splayed one hand over the dip in your back to hold you still, the other keeping your legs open, and he ate you realllll dirty, until his tongue started slipping up your ass and he was begging to lick you there too. You let him and he purred and spread your cheeks, telling you how pretty you are and how much he wants to fuck you.

And after that, with his hot sex talk playing on repeat in your mind, you can't help twitching and skipping out of his touch when you're walking down the street. You try to hide how embarrassed you are but of course he notices and it makes him even more insatiable, till he's whispering dirty promises in your ear.

"Don't get all shy like that- come here, look at me. You'll let me eat your ass but I can't touch you? Oh, pretty girl, I just wanna hold you- mm, don't look at me like that.. gonna turn me on- you know I want to do it again, right?"

bonus ~ (roles reversed)

Choso

He's still embarrassed from last night since he accidentally came in his pants. He was horny all day from you sending him outfit ideas for your date but he waited so patiently for you. When you showed up at his place in one of the contending choices- a crop top and a tiny little skirt- he got a boner right there in the doorway. But when you sat on his lap, kissing and grinding your pussy on him, he knew it was all over. He started panting and moaning in your mouth but he didn't want to stop kissing you and he just couldn't push you off in time.

And now you want to touch him in public he's being really shirty with you and pulling away, not letting you grab onto his muscly arms or hold his big hands. He storms through the city with you chasing after him, and when you reach your date destination he huffs and heads inside.

Finally, he lets you get closer to him. He's sitting on a bench after attracting all of the kittens in the cat café and you ask to perch on his knee so you can pet them too. He nods and you sit there, with your grumpy boyfriend covered in cats and you turn to him and place a kiss on his cheek. He jumps and goes bright red and nearly throws you off his lap. But you trace a soothing line over the marking on his nose and give him a little hug. You know he loves you.

"Choso- baby it's ok, come here. Don't be angry with me please, no no it's not your fault, please. Baby don't be embarrassed.. oh, thank you sweetie- I promise we can try again later. Yeah, does that sound good?"

2K notes · View notes

onlymingyus · 9 months

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Your Games Suck: Next Level

pairing; jeon wonwoo x choi seungcheol x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; unprotected sex, protected sex, dom!wonwoo, dom!seungcheol, sub!reader, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), hand on throat, breeding kink, creampie, cumplay, praise, degrading, petnames, degrading names, manhandling, scratching, pining down, a lot of tension between wonwoo and seungcheol, aftercare

w/c; 4k and some change

requested; no

a/n; i blame wonwoo and cheol for this one. -- i am scheduling this fic to drop at the time promised, any tags owed to my taglist will come later in the day once i have slept since my schedule is messed up from work. my apologies!

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“This is fucking stupid.”

“Restart it.”

Wonwoo laughs even as his lips brush over your throat and your moans carry through the room to tempt Seungcheol’s ears. He knew his friend was frustrated, but that was the point of the game. Could Seungcheol make it through a single round of the game without cursing?

Glancing over his shoulder, Seungcheol groans to the sight of your back arched off the bed. You were beautiful and he wanted nothing more than to throw the controller in his hand onto the desk and bury his cock into you. Instead, he was clenching the plastic and metal in his hand so hard it was popping under the pressure.

“Ah…fuck you feel so good.” Wonwoo groans the words as he rolls his hips towards yours. You were clenching around him deliciously. He knew you were close, but he wouldn’t let you cum too quickly. “Cheol…if you break my things I won’t let you play with Y/N.”

Muttering under his breath, Seungcheol loosens his grip on the controller only to feel it vibrate in his hands and to see his character die in the game.

“Oh, what the fuck! This isn’t fair.”

Wonwoo raises a brow, sliding his arm under your back to lift you toward him as he glances at the man sitting at his desk. He knew that Seungcheol knew the rules so he just watched as the man pressed restart with a pout on his face. Wonwoo couldn’t help but grin situating you into his lap, your knees on either side of his strong but slender thighs.

“Come on baby, give him a pep talk. At this point, the poor man is going to be running around the same area while I make you cum to the point of exhaustion and then he won’t get to fuck you because you won’t be able to stay awake.”

Heat spreads across your cheeks at Wonwoo’s words, but you knew he wasn’t joking. Not with that dark look in his eyes and with the way his hips were pistoning into you like a man on a mission. You knew you were leaking obscenely over his cock and his thighs, but it only served to make him work harder.

“Cheollie…oh god! I need you to win the game. I want your cock too. Don’t you want my pussy around your cock? Haven’t you missed me? Just be a good boy and don’t curse.”

The sound of an exasperated breath escapes Seungcheol’s lips at your words. The man shakes his head in disbelief at how filthy your little mouth could be and he finds himself wanting to stuff it full of his cock or fingers instantly.

“You have no idea how fu—freaking distracting you are right now Y/N. This game is already a…it’s hard, but I also have to listen to your slutty little mouth running and moaning behind me and there isn’t a thing I can do about it.”

Wonwoo smirks when you smile at Seungcheol’s words and how he manages to skip around the words that would get him sent back to the beginning of the level once again. A sharp slap to your ass draws your attention back to your boyfriend who lifts his brows at you, his bottom lip caught in his teeth between groaning breaths.

“I’m sorry, Seungcheol. I just can’t be quiet. Not when Wonwoo’s so deep inside of me and when I know that you are so hard. I can’t help but want you both inside of me. Try harder for me? I need you to fuck me. I might cry if you don’t.”

Laughing, Seungcheol lifts his hand from the controller briefly to brush his hair back as he bites back the urge to curse. He was now further in the game than he had been all night so maybe your little pep talk was actually working. Either way, he wanted to give you exactly what you wanted while also teaching you just who he was.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, baby. I’ll make sure you cry, how does that sound? Now let me finish this game so I can show your boyfriend a thing or two, huh?”

When you giggle, amused with Seungcheol’s answer, Wonwoo’s hand meets your ass once again causing you to moan his name as you clench around him tightly.

“So much talk and not enough playing. Mm, she’s gonna cum, Cheol. You’re gonna miss the first one. What a damn shame, all because you can’t restrain your mouth.”

With his thumb pressed against your clit, Wonwoo keeps his eyes on your face as he watches you fall apart on his cock for the first time that night. Seungcheol’s groan fills the room, but instead of the sound of a pleasured groan, it is an annoyed one as he listens to your whining moans. Slowing his thrusts, Wonwoo lets his fingers trail along your thighs. A smirk on his face, eyes locked on yours, your boyfriend lets you roll your hips over him to ride out your high.

“Such a good fucking girl.”

Lifting a hand to his face, Wonwoo pushes sweat from his brow before looking over at Seungcheol. The man’s shoulders tense, his eyes locked on the screen as he tries desperately to keep his attention on the task at hand. Even from where he was Wonwoo could see how far Seungcheol was in the game. He had played it so many times he knew the map by heart and with you still clenching around him, he knew you were desperate for another orgasm.

“Watch that building Cheol. You’ll get hit and sent back.”

Surprised by his friend’s merciful tip, Seungcheol almost misses the gunmen hiding in the building but is able to dodge the shot letting out a sigh under his breath. You watch under lowered lids as the man bites at his plush lips trying to keep any forbidden words from slipping between them.

“Oh god…that’s so good. Wonwoo, he’s getting so far. I need more, go harder?”

Leaning his head forward, Seungcheol laughs in disbelief at what he is hearing and missing. Forcing himself to keep his eyes forward, just a growl of frustration slipping from his bitten lips. When Seungcheol finally drops the controller onto the desk with a loud thud, the screen proudly displays the level complete.

Wonwoo can only laugh, his hand resting next to your head as he thrusts into you hard and deep like you had asked. His eyes meet Seungcheol’s as the man swivels the chair around to take in the scene in front of him.

“I did it. I finished it.”

Nodding, Wonwoo smirks at his friend, lifting his hand to brush your hair from your eyes as he leans you back on the bed so you can look at Seungcheol.

“And now you want your prize, Cheollie?”

Scoffing, Seungcheol nods before moving to stand from his chair. You can’t help the way your eyes fall on the obvious bulge in the front of his sweatpants that causes your mouth to water and for you to clench around Wonwoo.

“I think I deserve it. You have no fucking idea how hard that was. All that moaning and whining behind my back. You like having cock inside you that much, little whore?”

Watching the man, you arch your back letting out a moan when Wonwoo’s teeth graze over your soft skin near your nipple. Your boyfriend’s low chuckle draws your attention back to him only for him to tilt your head back towards Seungcheol so you can watch the man undress.

“Don’t be rude, Princess. He earned this, didn’t he? You’ve whined about wanting him back in our bed.”

Seungcheol smirks at Wonwoo’s words, his hands making quick work of his shirt letting your eyes drink in the sight before you. Whining Seungcheol’s name, you cling to the sheet under you causing the fabric to strain under your fingertips. You knew the man was teasing you just as much as you knew your boyfriend was enjoying the way your pussy was clenching around his cock.

“What is it, Y/N? Am I not moving fast enough for you? I had to sit at that desk for almost an hour listening to Wonwoo’s fingers fucking you and then his dick. Do you realize how wet you get and how loud it is? Do you even know how to muffle your moans?”

Shaking your head no, you feel your cheeks heat up. Wonwoo smiles against your breasts before leaning to sit up, his hands sliding along your thighs. The man’s eyes fall between your legs to where his cock slowly enters you again and again.

“Would you want her to be quiet? If she had been, your dumbass would still be dodging headshots.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes, his thumbs pushing at his sweatpants. Grumbling under his breath, he steps forward letting his pants fall to the floor when his eyes meet yours, and his ego soars. Seungcheol can’t help but to smirk at how your mouth is watering over the sight of his cock. Tilting his head, he lifts his brow before stepping closer to the bed moving to rest his knee on the mattress, keeping just out of reach of you.

“What’s that look for, baby? You like what you see that much? You already have a cock inside you and you are looking at me like I’m something to eat. You want something in that cute little mouth?”

Reaching out, Seungcheol’s lips fall open at your soft gasp as his thumb brushes against your lips. The feeling of your warm tongue presses to the pad of his finger and the man’s mind spins with how much he wants you.

“Wonwoo…help me slide her back or I’ll pull her off your dick.”

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo bites back his annoyance with Seungcheol choosing to give in to his request instead. You smile at your boyfriend as his hands lift at your hips and Seungcheol’s wrap under your arms so that the men can move you towards the end of the bed.

“You could have just asked me to move.”

Seungcheol laughs, his fingers brushing over your head before you feel his fingers tighten against your scalp causing you to whine into a moan. Wonwoo narrows his eyes until he watches your mouth fall open in pleasure, the other man leaning down to speak against your lips.

“What’s the fun in that? When you have two men here who’d happily move you all over this house to fuck you? Do me a favor and open that mouth. Stick out your tongue.”

Watching you follow Seungcheol’s requests, Wonwoo digs his fingers into your thighs quickening his thrusts, beginning to feel that sense of possessiveness rush over him like it had in the past when he had shared you. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do this, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, or that he didn’t enjoy it. The point was that it brought out a different side of Wonwoo, it made him want to claim you even more.

“You remember the rules, Cheol?”

Waving his hand at Wonwoo, Seungcheol dismisses his friend in place of watching your tongue slip from your mouth. A smirk spreads across his face, Seungcheol groans, his hand wrapping around his shaft so that he can guide his cock to your waiting mouth.

“Fuck, good girl. You look so pretty like this. Getting fucked and still wanting my cock down your throat.”

You can’t help but whine at Seungcheol’s words and the weight of his cock on your tongue. Your eyes locked on him, you lean forward to take his head into your mouth, relishing the sound of his groan when warmth envelopes him and you hollow your cheeks.

Fingers once again tighten in your hair, nails sliding against your scalp as Seungcheol leans his head back to close his eyes. The feeling of your mouth was almost as good as being between your thighs and he was going to commit it to memory.

Thrusting into you hard enough to send you towards Seungcheol, Wonwoo groans your name before pulling from you completely, causing you to whine around Seungcheol. With a sharp slap to your thigh, Wonwoo then leans down to press a kiss to your warm skin as his cock throbs at the loss of your warm walls around him. He just couldn’t finish first, not when Seungcheol was in the room, he needed to be the last person you were with.

“Take it all, Princess. There you go…all the way to your throat. Perfect.”

The moment the tip of Seungcheol’s cock hits the back of your throat and you gag around the man you have to pull back not only to breathe but because of the feeling of Wonwoo’s mouth between your legs. His lips wrap around your clit and with the same intensity you had been using to go down on Seungcheol, your boyfriend sucks at the sensitive bundle of nerves causing you to tighten your thighs around his head.

“Holy shit! Calm down, Y/N. I can’t cum in your mouth and I don’t want to. Fuck…keep your damn hips down. Can’t you see that Wonwoo is working hard for you? Don’t run away from him.”

The two men caused your head to spin. One minute they were arguing, biting at each other’s throats over nonsense and the next they were working together to drive you crazy. Sliding his hand along the center of your stomach, Seungcheol works his fingers between your legs using two of them to spread your folds for Wonwoo’s tongue. A smirk spreads across his features at your reaction, the way your back arches before he pushes you back down.

“You gonna cum on his tongue like a good little slut? Be a good girl for your boyfriend. He’s being generous tonight. Give him one more before I fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow.”

Nudging his nose against Seungcheol’s hand, Wonwoo groans against your folds before moving to wrap his arm around your thigh pulling you in closer to his mouth. You loved anytime that Wonwoo would eat you out but there was something different about tonight. There was something about how he seemed to be trying to prove a point with how quickly he could push you over the edge by knowing every inch of you.

“Oh my god…Wonwoo!”

Your fingers slide into the man’s hair, tightening harshly when you cum like both of the men had been urging you to do. Wonwoo smiles against your soft skin taking turns between licking you clean of the cum beginning to seep from your entrance to placing kisses on your swollen folds and clit.

“That’s my girl.”

Your cheeks burn at Wonwoo’s muffled words, your fingers gliding through his hair once again before the man’s gaze meets yours from between his legs. A glint of mischief in his eyes before he leans to nip at your thigh causing you to kick your legs playfully when he moves from between them.

“Cheol…need you now. I feel empty. You made promises.”

The man at your side can only laugh at your words and how you whine them on panting breaths. He loved to hear you beg for him but he wasn’t in the mood to deny you tonight, not when he had been waiting for so long to be inside you.

Sliding from the bed, Seungcheol can feel your eyes on him as he stops only to pick up the condom that Wonwoo had laid out for him. The same smirk that had been playing at his lips all night causes his lips to pull up to one side even as he holds the foil square between his teeth and rips it open.

You can’t seem to help how antsy you are in anticipation watching Seungcheol roll the condom over his thick cock. His eyes once again find you as he moves to take Wonwoo’s place. Warm, skillful hands slide over your sides to your legs as Seungcheol listens to your breaths become moans.

Wonwoo’s brows furrow, his cock resting back on his stomach as he settles into the chair beside the bed. Running his hand over his face, Wonwoo has a mental fight with himself on how long he will stay seated. How long he will be able to just sit there and watch his best friend touch you like that. It isn’t until you gasp out Seungcheol’s name, the older man’s hands pushing your legs towards your chest, his arms moving to pin yours at your side that Wonwoo makes another sound.

“Dammit, Cheol, be careful with her.”

Seungcheol smirks against your cheek, the feeling of your warm breath brushing against his face as he feels the heat of your pussy against his cock resting against your folds. Lifting his hips, the man glances towards Wonwoo with a questioning look before reaching between your bodies to line himself up with you and sinking into you slowly and deeply.

“I’m not doing anything she doesn’t want. You know your safe words don’t you, baby? Do you want me to treat you soft and gentle? Or…do you want me to keep my promise and wreck you?”

Tears run from the corners of your eyes as you whisper your answer to Seungcheol causing Wonwoo to curse under his breath. He already knew the answer but it was driving him crazy. He knew better than anyone how much you enjoyed Seungcheol treating you like this, he knew that you liked it when he treated you rough. There was a time and a place for gentle lovemaking and it wasn’t tonight.

“Please, Cheol…don’t stop. Feels so good, you’re so deep.”

Seungcheol chuckles into a groan. Your walls closing around him, the man nips at your lips before capturing them in a kiss for the first time that night swallowing your moan for himself. Wonwoo can only watch feeling as if he was tied to the chair, his cock leaking heavily against his abs.

“That’s right I am, Y/N. You like me deep? Hmm? Fuck, you are so tight. Wanna fill this pussy up with my cum, you’d want that, wouldn’t you? Leave it all dirty for you? Wonwoo would clean it up for you, wouldn’t you Wonwoo?”

Fingers digging into the chair, Wonwoo bites at his lips hearing you moan that you want it. He knew you were lost in the moment and he also knew there was no way, short of Seungcheol taking off the condom, that he could cum inside of you. This was a power trip and one that Seungcheol enjoyed far too much when it came to fucking you.

“You are fucking pushing your luck, Cheol. You’ll never do that to her.”

Seungcheol laughs, his lips sliding along your neck as he feels your thighs trembling against his chest under him. He could tell you were close, but so was he. Groaning out your name, Seungcheol runs his tongue along your neck to your ear whispering against your ear loud enough for Wonwoo to just barely hear.

“Never say never, right little whore?”

Scratching at his arms, you gasp out a moan loudly as your orgasm rips through you when Seungcheol’s cock hits you just right. Toes pointed, you find it hard to breathe, your vision clouded by tears from how intense the sensation is when the man burying his cock into you doesn’t slow down. Instead, Seungcheol chases his own high that quickly follows yours. With a loud groan, Seungcheol buries his face back against your neck as his cum fills the condom instead of you.

His hips coming to a stop, Seungcheol pants against your skin before leaning back to look down at you in wonder. Lifting his hand, the man rests it against your throat before running his fingers along your jaw and leaning down to kiss you deeply as he keeps his body connected to yours.

Swallowing hard, Wonwoo tilts his head. His own breath was unsteady from watching you and Seungcheol come undone together. He allows you both a few moments of silence until it becomes too much to handle and the sound of the chair under him sliding across the floor draws both yours and Seungcheol’s attention.

Lips pull up in a smile against your own before Seungcheol pulls away. A soft whimper escapes your lips to the feeling of the man sliding from you leaving you once again empty. Licking his lips, Seungcheol glances at Wonwoo unsure of what his reaction would be. He isn’t completely surprised when he meets an unamused gaze.

“Princess, did you have fun with Cheol?”

Nodding, you lift your own hand to your face pushing your hair from your eyes as Seungcheol helps you lower your legs. The man then slides from the bed completely not wanting to piss off Wonwoo any more than he already had.

“Mm, I had fun too, baby. Maybe we can do it again soon.”

Wonwoo purses his lips glancing back at Seungcheol who had already taken care of his condom.

“Soon" is a relative term. Do you still want me, Princess?”

Looking up at Wonwoo as if he had asked you the dumbest question possible, you watch the man’s lips turn up in a smile when you reach for him. Seungcheol’s brows lift as his friend moves back onto the bed without first telling him to leave.

“Did you want me to…”

“Sit the fuck down and watch, Cheol.”

With his brow lifting, Seungcheol clears his throat before doing as Wonwoo wants. His hands find the arms of the chair, similar to how Wonwoo had when he had been sitting before, but it felt different for Seungcheol.

“You see…” Wonwoo grins looking down at you, his fingernails running along your thigh to pull your leg up towards his hip allowing you to do the same on the other side as he pushes into you with one slow thrust. “Where you can talk shit and say how much you want to fill her up…I can do it.”

A breath escapes Seungcheol’s lips and as much as you want to look over to the man, the feeling of Wonwoo’s cock pushing against your cervix keeps you where you are. Your lips fall open in a moan and much like Seungcheol had done, Wonwoo leans to kiss you collecting the moan for himself. Teeth nip at your lips leaving them feeling swollen and bitten as Wonwoo’s cock fills you deeply and completely with each skillful, knowing thrust.

“That’s what you want isn’t it, Y/N? Cum dripping out of you? You wanna let Seungcheol see what he can do? Let him learn his fucking place?”

When you nod, Seungcheol lifts his hand to his lips pushing at them as his cock throbs against his thigh once again hard. He knew he should be pissed off that Wonwoo was talking so much shit but instead, he was fascinated by it all.

“Please, Wonwoo…I need it.”

Wonwoo pouts in faux concern at the whine in your tone as you beg for his cum. He was close and he was going to give you exactly what you wanted. Nodding, your boyfriend nips at your lips once again whispering how much he loves you against them as the coil that had been winding inside of him snaps. You feel his warm cum spilling into you only to be pushed out with each deep thrust.

Seungcheol can only groan at the sight, his breath getting caught in his throat. Even if it wasn’t his cum dripping out of your pussy it was still the most beautiful thing he had seen all night. He could just imagine pushing it back into you. As if he could sense what his friend wanted, Wonwoo slips from you only to reach between your legs. Two fingers brush between your swollen folds to find your dripping entrance. Your loud moans once again fill the room as Wonwoo fucks his cum back into you with his fingers making sure he feels your cum running down his wrist along with his own before he stops.

“Fuck, perfect.”

Whispered words tickle your ear as Wonwoo slides his fingers from you. His lips pepper your neck and shoulder until you feel the bed shift as the man slides from it completely. The feeling of Seungcheol’s plush lips finds your cheek along with the warmth of his chuckle as he whispers for you to get some rest your eyes close when both men leave you in the room alone. It isn’t until Wonwoo’s hands run along your hips and his deep voice mutters against your ear sometime later that you whine in protest causing him to laugh.

“You’ve slept long enough. You need to take a shower and eat something. I should have made you get up right afterwards but you were dead to the world.”

Muttering against the bed, you cause a laugh to escape Wonwoo as he pulls you up from the comforter into his arms with a questioning sound for you to speak again.

“Said, where is Seungcheol?”

Gentle fingers brush against your side as Wonwoo helps you slide off the bed and towards the bathroom. His lips meet your neck with a sigh at your question.

“He went home. He needed to rest too. You are a lot of work, you know that?”

Pushing at his shoulder, you can’t hide your smile. Wonwoo walks you into the warm shower letting you lean against him as he helps you wash the night from your skin.

“I liked it.”

The man nods, a smile on his lips feeling you nuzzle your face against his neck. It was becoming a lot easier to share when he was the one who got the moments like this at the end.

“Mm, I know. I liked it too. He’s gotta work on his damn mouth first. Can’t have that around my, Princess.”

Wrinkling your nose, you laugh at how Wonwoo phrases his comment, turning in his arms to rest your forearms on his shoulders as you rest between his knees. The man’s body leaning against the shower wall, the water running down your back and legs like rain.

“Seems like someone needs to work on yours.”

Wonwoo grins, his lips pressing against your soft and sweet.

“Mmm, you gonna help me with that?”

Laughing, you brush your fingers through the wet hair at the nape of his neck as his fingers trail along your lower back.

“It’s the least I can do.”

#wonwoo smut #seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #svthub #scoups smut #svt smut #wonwoo x reader #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #svt x reader

3K notes · View notes

islayhawkin · 3 months

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Let me take care of you

Newt x f!reader (clint x jeff mentioned- if you don't ship it just ignore it lol)

2,8k

Summery: newt accidentally overhears you talking about liking him but he thinks you were talking about minho

Request: Hello can you do a newt x fem!reader when the reader is a medjack and talk about (I forget if it’s Clint or Jeff) how she is love with him but she didn’t realize he was behind her ? Please

Misunderstandings; hurt/comfort, angst

A/N: okay this escalated pretty quick into angst whoops

Can be read as a part 2 of 'let me help you'

It was a usual morning in the glade. The runners were getting ready to start their rounds. Alby started to wake everyone up and frypan made breakfest ready.

You and jeff on the other hand were already in the med-hut to check up on a slicer who almost got his arm chopped off yesterday. Jeff held his fingers to the boys neck.

"He's still alive."

You hummed in relief.

"Lost much blood?"

You collected the things to change the bandage on the young boys arm.

"Nah seems pretty good."

You handed jeff a container of warmed up water and a cloth. "Thanks" jeff muttered as he began removing the blood soaked bandage from the arm. You sat down next to the bed and gave jeff a helping hand whenever he needed.

"How are things with clint?" You gave Jeff a teasing grin. Jeff sighed.

"There are no 'things' between me and clint." But he gave up long ago to deny it convincingly in front of you.

"You looked shucking cute cuddled up yesterday evening." You grinned as you took the dirty cloth and water bowl from him.

Jeff scoffed. "Oh yeah what about you lovebirds then? I'm pretty sure you two were the ones cuddled up. Half the glade was probably jealous." He took the new bandage from your hand. A blush coated your cheeks but you smiled softly at the memory. "Yeah we were quite close yesterday."

You realised that the boy jeff was currently treating was still fast asleep. "Nothing wakes him up does it?" You pointed to him.

Jeff chuckled. "He sleeps like a rock. But don't try to distract me. I'm telling you, you need to ask him out."

"Because you're the expert in that?" You raised your brow.

Jeff rolled his eyes and sat down too after finishing the bandage. "No. Because it is so clearly obvious to everyone. Do you know why the boys don't try anything anymore with you?"

You blinked confused. "No...?" "Newt threatens them. They're afraid they'll be banished or beaten to a pulp if they try something with you."

You were speachless for a moment. "What...? No newt doesn't do that... I know he's protective. That's why they set up the rules but he never uses violence."

"Well he does when you are involved. You remember how gally was brought in with a bashed in face? That was newt. Gally, as gally is, apperently said a lot of disrespectful stuff about you which he could not tolerate."

Your heart beat a bit faster. Newt did this for you? You knew newt avoided violence and stuck to order as much as he was capable off. And that he completely neglected these believes as soon as you were involved was weirdly...sweet.

"So I'm telling you- he cares about you very deeply. Almost concerningly so. And everyone of the boys is aware how you two look at eachother."

You couldn't contain your bright smile. "I never knew that. That is very sweet." You sighed dreamily. "He's just so adorable."

Jeff laughed quietly. "I tell you he's beaten someone up and you call him adorable?"

You glare at him with a pout. "You know that's not what I mean. He's just- so handsome. Even when his hair is touseled of sweat at the end of the day. I don't know how he does it. I could listen to his voice all day too. Every time I see him I just want to squeeze him out of excitment."

"I'm sure he is." Jeff muttered with a grin.

"He always looks out for everyone and rather neglects his own needs than others. I'd rather he wouldn't but I like that about him. He also has everything in control. I mean alby is the leader but he's the leader in the background. He always notices when something is wrong and asks about it. When he laughs he has these really cute crinkles on his nose. Sorry I'm rambling."

Jeff leaned forward. "Then do something about it. Honestly in the eyes of everyone you're already-"

Newt cleared his throat as he stood awkwardly in the doorway of the med-hut. He had walked in a minute ago and heard you talking about someone. At first he thought you might actually be talking about him but his self-consciousness told him you were probably talking about minho. You two always were so close. Minho was a phisical guy. He was muscular. Had great humor. Of course newt understood why you'd fall for minho. After all it was his best friend. But it still stung. A lot.

Newt didn't mean to eavesdrop but he couldn't really find a good moment to interrupt until he couldn't stand hearing more.

His face showed a friendly expression but his eyes wouldn't meet your face.

You on the other hand were turning around to look at newt with wide eyes. You didn't know how long he stood there. How much he heard. If he even heard anything so you tried to slow your heartbeat and act normally.

Jeff glanced between you two as if he was watching a very interesting story unfold before his eyes.

"I uh. I need to get some supplies for the runners. They're about to start. But maybe you'd like to bring it yourself to minho?"His eyes were lowered to the ground.

"Yes of course. No problem." You hastily stood up and collected the small supplies for the runners. As soon as you finished speaking newt was already gone again.

You stilled as you realised this and turned to jeff with wide eyes. "Do you think he heard?"

"He heard something."

"Why did he storm off then?"

Jeff raised his shoulders. "You should probably go talk to him."

***

You did try and talk to him but after the encounter Newts behavior changed. He clearly tried to avoid you. He was a lot more in his room. Even locked up so alby couldn't get in to sleep. He almost worked aggressively hard as a track-hoe. Not stopping to work at dinner time and starting to work before the others were even up.

The others noticed too of course. Newt was the glue after all. Without Newts full help the glade got into a more chaotic state. Alby needed to scream around a lot more. He even seemed to be angry at newt for acting this way.

He didn't come to the med-hut anymore. Neither for his limp nor to pick you up for sleep.

For you and frankly everybody else it was a unreasonable change of behavior. You knew the things he overheard in the med-hut were the trigger for this but you could not fathom why he'd be so distraught because of it.

But to Newt it was perfectly reasonable. You were in love with minho and the latter obviously in love with you. The whole glade seemed to be. You were the only girl. What chance did he have.Newt saw it clearly. You always were with minho. Sometimes even disapearing with him into the woods. He didn't even want to think about what you did. You always kissed minhos cheek. Hugged him a lot. Minho always flirted with you.

And it was even worse that minho was his best friend. He loved minho dearly. They've been through everything together. And he couldn't bare the thought of losing you both when you two were so close.

This reaction to the pain he felt in his chest may have seemed overdramatic to a outsider but to newt it wasn't only about 'not getting a chance with you'. It made him realise that the love he felt for you, the hope you gave him, was all in his head. He needed your love. Desperately. And he didn't know how to cope without it again.

This worried you. A lot.The behavior reminded you of the time after his incident. How you first got to know him after waking up in the glade. He seemed broken then and he did now.It made you realise that nothing really changed about newt. He was still that small kid that you first met.

What worried you even more was his self-harming behavior. Not taking any consideration about the state of his body.

He didn't stop working even when alby told him to. Sometimes he didn't show up for dinner because of it. You always took a extra ration from frypan and brought it up to his room.

You knocked softly on the locked wooden door. "Newt?" There was no answer. "Newt I brought you dinner. You need to eat something."

Silence.

You almost layed the plate down in front of the door again when the door opened a bit.

Newt couldn't help but take that glimpse of your care.

You gave him a smile. "Hey." You held the plate out in front of you. "Here. You missed dinner."

Newt took the plate from your hands hesitantely and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Thanks."

Before he could close the door again you held the door open with your foot. "Newt what's wrong? I know I've been asking this constantly the last few days but I worry about you. The whole glade does. You're not acting like yourself." Your voice was soft.

He shrugged carelessly. "Maybe I just have my period." He tried to joke. You were glad he attempted a joke again. But you also knew it was his way of distracting of the matter at hand.

You gave him a look. "We both know that is not the reason."

Newt sighed. "There is nothing wrong. I'd like to sleep."

You scanned his face desperate for a answer. "Is all this about what you heard me talking about?"

Newt froze up. "I never heard anythin'. Good night." He closed the door and locked it. He leaned his back against the door and took deep breaths. Blinking away tears.The situation didn't stop him from defending you though. On the contrary. He got more angry. More irretable. The usual calm and collected newt was overcome with a more emotional one.

Minho and alby gave you a explicit instruction to get throught to him at breakfast table that morning.

And you were determined to do so today. This has been going on for a few days too long for your liking. When you made your way over to the gardens in search of him the sign you were met with made a stabbing pain in your heart. Newt was working in the garden as usual. Pulling vegatables out, getting new fertilizer, sowing new ones. You normally loved watching him work. But today the pain was evident on his face. His limp finally catching up with the pressure he was constantly putting on it. You saw him stumble a few times but he pushed through obviously.

Until he just...collapsed. His leg gave out under him. You could see him staying layed on the ground. His face on the earth. Exhausted. Suddenly his lanky frame you oh so loved looked a bit too skinny for your liking.

You hurriedly made your way over to him. When he noticed you he tried to scramble up fastly which only made his limp buckle under his weight again. He cursed under his breath.You kneeled down beside him and gripped his arm and a hand around his waist. "Shuck newt. What are you doing..."

"I'm fine. I'm fi-" he struggled to get up again with the few strength he had left.

You pulled him down against you by the waist again. "Stop it." There was a plea in your voice. "Stop it newt. You're hurting yourself."

He still struggled against your hold. "Let go. There is nothing...wrong" his voice cracked.

You didn't let him go. He turned his head away from you as a tear rolled down his cheek and he started to shake slightly.

Everything hurt him. His body. His mind. Only your soft touch gave him comfort.

"Shh." You turned his head to you gently. He didn't meet your eye but you could see in them the pain he was in. You wiped the tear away with your thumb.

"Come on. I'll take care of you." You stroked a dirty strand of hair out of his face and helped him stand up. A lot of his weight leaned on you as you led him into the med-hut. Clint looked up startled when he saw you carry a half limp newt in.

"Out." You ordered him but added a thankful smile.

Clint nodded with a glance at newt and scrambled out of the hut. Newt let himself fall down onto a bed. You took a blanket and tucked him into it, started to boil water on the fire and pushed another pillow under his head.

"I will be right back. Don't go anywhere." Newt watched how you gave him a sweet smile and made your way outside again.You came back with a bowl of food and a bottle of water, shut the door to the med-hut to build as much privacy as possible.

You sat yourself down on the side of his bed and showed him your loot. "What do you want?" A loving smile thrown his way.

"Carrot" he cracked out.

You put the rest of the food aside and handed him the carrot. He moved up to rest his back against the wall and hesitantely began to eat the carrot under your careful watch. The silence engulfed the room for a while only the cracks of the carrot being heard.

You made a heating pad with the boiling water meanwhile and pulled the leg of newts trousers up to gently lay the warm pad onto his throbbing knee.

You did what you always did. Care for him. Take care of him. He had missed this terribly. But he hadn't forgotten what had happened.

He looked at you a long moment. Watched your every move. He felt like he hadn't been able to look at you proberly for way too long. "Do you-" he swallowed. "Do you like my voice too?" His voice was timid. He wasn't sure why he chose that detail to ask.

"What?" You ask perplexed and looked up at his face.

"Nevermind" his voice was still raw.

"Of course I like your voice. How do you come to that question?"

Newt didn't know how to answer that question so he stayed silent.

You sighed and slid nearer to him on the bed. "Newt what's wrong? Please tell me. You are in a horrible condition. I'm worried. Everyone is worried."

"I- heard you. The other day. Talking about minho. You should give him a go if you feel that way about him."

You blinked. To you his talk was making none sense at all.

"but uh-" he swallowed. "Can I still come to you if you...?"

You frowned. "I'm not sure what you're talking about newt. Of course you can come to me. Always. You know that. But what has this to do with minho-?" The words now registered completely in your brain. "You think I was talking about Minho?"

Newt looked away painfully. "Yes I suppose it was obvious for a while..."

You shook your head in realisation. "Newt."

His eyes snapped up to yours. "I wasn't talking about minho. I was talking about you."

Newt thought he hadn't heard right. "W-what?"

"Yes. I mean minho is great. I love him too. But he's not you."

"You like all that about...me ?"

"Of course. You are...amazing." You laughed quietly.

Newt was speechless.

Your heart was beating a lot more faster than normally but you tried to ignore it. Taking a deep breath. "May I...lay with you?" You whispered.

He never wanted- needed anything more. But his brain was in freeze and he could only nod his head.

You cautiously layed down next to him and crawled your body under the blanket too. You were very clode to eachother. You could feel the presence of his body next to you. He felt himself relax in the presense of your body next to him. Your small breath tickling his cheek.

You decided to let your instincts take over and slid your hand around his waist gingerly. Newts body tensed up and he sucked in a small breath at the sudden contact.

"Thank you." He breathed out. His body relaxing again.

"For what?" You whispered.

"Loving me. Pulling me out. Caring for me. Without you I'd probably would have taken another go at that jump long ago." His self humor shone through.

You smiled but lightly squeezed him. "Don't joke about that. I'm glad you feel that way. Thank you too."

"For what?" He retorted my own question back.

"Being you. Looking out for me. I heard the boys were threatened by you?"

A blush formed on his cheeks. "Yeah they were saying disrespectful stuff and I can't let them wander around thinking they can try whatever they want with you."

You smiled. "Always holding the order up."

"It's my job." You looked at his big brown eyes.

"Please don't punish yourself like this again. Don't shut yourself off like this. I'm not sure why you're punishing yourself. You don't have to tell me. But I don't want you to do it. Please? At least talk to me."

"I'll try."

#newt x reader #newt tmr #newt maze runner #hurt/comfort #newt imagine #the maze runner #tmr #Clint x jeff

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booksandabeer · 27 days

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Celebrating 10 Years of CA:TWS — A Stucky Rec List

Rec list for the CA:TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary (thank you so much for organizing this event! 💙) | Prompt: Memories

10 years, huh? 10 years of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. 10 years of what many—myself included—still consider to be the best MCU movie ever made.

But also 10 years of post-TWS fanfiction. 10 years of Bucky Barnes Recovering and Steve Rogers' Sadness Errands; of Up All Night to Get Bucky and Revenge Road Trips; of Winter Soldier Trauma Umbrellas and Everybody Needing A Goddamn Hug; of Good Bros and Soft Epilogues. 10 years and tens of thousands of Steve/Bucky fics later, here we are.

So, to mark the occasion, let's take a trip down memory lane and celebrate the movie and the stories it inspired: One fic from each year since it all began:

There's really only one rule here: All fics are set before, during, or after the events of CA:TWS and/or reimagine its plot in interesting ways. Naturally, many of the fics on this list are post-TWS canon divergent, but I tried to go for a nice variety of length, genre, and popularity to keep it interesting. Speaking of popularity, this is very much not intended as a round-up of ‘most popular fics of each year’ because—and I say this with all the love and respect in my heart for those stories and their authors—nobody needs a rec list for that, and I believe in spreading the love. Here we go:

Poltergeists by enemyofrome | 17K, T

Author's summary: When the helicarriers blow up and the Winter Soldier goes on the run, he takes Steve with him. He's got a name written in Morse code on the inside of his arm, a ton of questions he doesn't know how to ask, and now, a new handler with absolutely zero sense of self-preservation to contend with. Life is hard. In which Bucky tries to figure out whether he's a human being, Steve does everything he can to keep from losing him again, and there are lots of explosions.

Starting off with one of the best versions of the 'Bucky didn't leave Steve, he took him with him after the Potomac' fics that were (and still are!) so popular post-TWS. This one stands out because of its fantastic beginning, its interesting take on how Bucky was broken and remade into the Winter Soldier, and because it allows both characters to be messy. It's a popular fanon trope that it's Steve who brings out a ruthless, almost vicious streak in Bucky, but here it's emphasized that this is very much a mutual thing. Just like Bucky, who's often afforded the "excuse" of still figuring out how to be a person again, Steve gets to be difficult here—without ever turning him into a stubborn asshole. They're both traumatized, and they're both allowed to show it and to lash out, including at each other. Also, this fic will give you capital-F Feelings about morse codes and apples. Believe me.

sleepwalk back to the battle site by ftmsteverogers | 22K, T

Author's summary: “I’m going to track down every HYDRA agent that’s left,” Bucky says, buckling his gun deftly to his belt. “And then I’m going to kill them.” “Oh,” Steve says. “Come with me?” Bucky asks, dangerous hands tucked into his pockets.

A classic post-TWS fic that picks up right after the movie ends. Equal parts Revenge Roadtrip, Bucky Barnes recovering, and Steve Rogers being in urgent need of a good hug. This starts out intensely melancholic—Steve's despair and helplessness are palpable and there's a scene involving a drinking glass that still brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. Halfway through, the story changes pace and becomes much more action-heavy, but it still manages to allow space for the quiet, intimate moments between Steve and Bucky. They have both become sharp and deadly men, but they're also allowed to be soft with each other. Their coming together feels sweet and inevitable. I also really enjoyed the Steve characterization here. His absolute conviction that Bucky is still Bucky at his very core and always will be, but also his emotional and intellectual flexibility to adapt to this still-new-to-him, changed version of Bucky rang very true to me.

Surveillance by Sproings, 7K in 2 parts, G

Author's summary: If there are ears everywhere, that means it's somebody's job to listen. I hate my job.

Do you ever think about how SHIELD bugged Steves DC apartment and how horrible that was, but also...you're kind of curious what they might have overheard? Do you ever wonder about the people who listened in on his sad, lonely life? Well, here you go. An outsider POV fic told "through the ears" of an unnamed SHIELD agent assigned to spy on the private life of a man who doesn't really have much of one. The story begins just before IM3 and takes us all the way through the events of CA:TWS and beyond. It's clever, original and told with great empathy for both the subject under surveillance and the person carrying out that surveillance—who increasingly questions its purpose. Here's a small snippet to give you an idea of the fic's style:

He got a phone call, once. He put it on speaker, too, which was very exciting for me at the time. It was from an archivist at the Smithsonian. They seemed really surprised that he answered his own phone calls. The two of them talked for a long time about an exhibit the museum was planning. A very long time. As if one of them was starstruck, and the other was desperate for any kind of human interaction.

What Gets You Through by velleities | 12K, M

Author's summary: For Steve, getting through each day is a process – one he’s currently failing at spectacularly. Feeling out of place in this brave new world, he hopes to find a home in Bucky, and looks for him with everything he’s got. But Bucky doesn’t want to be found, and when he does touch base with Steve, he never sticks around for long. Bucky has embraced the modern age, leaving Steve lagging behind – or so Steve believes, until Bucky shows him otherwise.

This post-TWS fic revolves around five encounters in liminal spaces, and each time Bucky has pieced himself back together again just a little more. Despite their increasingly longer and more honest conversations, and Bucky's incremental progress, he always disappears again, leaving Steve to grapple with his heartbreak. There are quietly gorgeous moments in this fic (the bus and the church in particular were my personal favorites) as well as wonderfully crafted characterizations. Bucky is initially portrayed as somewhat feral in some ways yet surprisingly well-adjusted in others, and I love that Steve can't help but be a little annoyed at that. However, it quickly becomes clear that, in good old Bucky Barnes fashion, much of it is really just a front put up for Steve's benefit...

A Real Boy by itsnotbleak | 5K, T

Author's summary: It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat. It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

A wonderful, short-but-doesn't-feel-like-it fic (in the very best way) set immediately after CA:TWS, in which Bucky secretly and then soon not so secretly visits Steve in his apartment. Follow along as Bucky Barnes argues with his brain about sandwich toppings, the importance of a good night's sleep, and the necessity of personal hygiene. Also: how to best go about becoming a real boy (again). And who the hell is that Bucky guy anway? This is as soft and sweet a Bucky recovery fic as you're ever going to find. It's funny but not silly; sad in a way that all of these stories inherently are—because, well, these are some tragic boys—but not super angsty or depressing. A beautiful story with a lovely, hopeful ending.

Savage God by PottersPink | 36K, M

Author's summary (abbr.): Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. He flinched when Steve tried to touch him, and when Steve told him he loved him, his first response was to ask why. Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.

An absolutely riveting AU that will have you on the edge of your seat the whole time. I'm itching to talk about it more but I cannot since it would mean spoiling the hell out of it. What I can say is that it's a very intriguing and clever exploration of what would happen if Steve knew about the future but without really knowing any of the details. How would it change the events of CA:TFA and CA:TWS, and how would it change Steve himself? I so very much appreciate this characterization of Steve as smart, competent, and unwavering with a hefty dose of no fucks left to give. This fic features some really nifty time travel and plotting, great action sequences and a very satisfying ending where certain people get their much-deserved comeuppance. Plus: Bonus Shrinkyclinks (kind of)!

Charlie Lock by seapigeon | 105K, M (hard M)

Author's summary (abbr.): The Winter Soldier knows that sometimes, in order to make the kill, you must destroy what the Target lives for. Steve Rogers knows that he can't fight his captors. If he fights, they'll kill Bucky. But the price of his life is steep. Tony Stark has nothing left to live for, but he's needed. So all these miserable motherfuckers better stay alive, too. Clint Barton never expected to be a leader. But a leader he is, and no one else is going to die on his watch. --- A story in which the first wave of Project Insight succeeds, and the Avengers must pick up the pieces and find a way to stop Hydra from completing its work with Zola's algorithm.

This is not only the longest fic on this list, but also the angstiest one—by a mile, so please heed the tags. It's dark, disturbing, and brutal. However, it is neither relentless misery porn nor is it shocking for shock's sake, where everything is magically forgotten and/or healed the moment Steve and Bucky start kissing. Instead, the author puts these characters into an absolutely horrifying situation and then slowly, gently guides them out of it and into the light.

It's a Stucky fic but it's also a multi-POV ensemble piece featuring all the Avengers and other familiar faces. If you are someone who'll always be a little bitter about the unfulfilled promise of an Avengers found family, then this is for you. In this AU, they do not only fight together, but grow together in every way. They truly become a team, not just co-workers barely tolerating each other. The story takes its time exploring the characters and the group dynamics. Steve and Bucky are definitely at the center of the narrative but there is space here for every member of the team to grieve and adjust to the new reality and to find at least some measure of healing. It's a story about the meaning and the consequences of revenge, about hope and resilience, and about love in all its many forms. It also has one of the most satisfying title drops that will have you pump your fist in triumph when it happens. It's a tough read, but ultimately a very rewarding one.

SPELEVINK by Ginny_Potter | 10K, G

Author's summary: Bucky’s back. He’s leaving me messages through IKEA plushies, Steve texts Sam. jesus christ, rogers, Sam texts back. Or, Bucky lives in an IKEA Tiny Apartment, Steve is a dancing monkey once again, and somehow they find their way back to each other.

This is an absolute DELIGHT of a fic that will have you alternately laughing out loud and crying quietly into your SVARTFIBBLA blanket (super-soft, recycled polyester, 47x63"). It's ‘crack treated seriously’ at its very best and a clear homage to the fandom classic Infinite Coffee… (that’s not a dig or a spoiler, the author says so in the author’s note).

Now if you know me, you’ll know that angst o’clock is my happy hour and I’m usually not very into these heavy-on the-humor quasi-absurdist fics (because I’m super special and not like all the other girls, obviously). But. I LOVED this story so, so much. It’s such a fun read—even when it makes you cry—and it really became one of those ‘huh, I guess I’m into this after all’ moments of joyful (self)discovery via fanfic for me. I never thought a pair of oven mitts could move me like that, and I'll never be able to walk into an IKEA again without muttering "F******!" under my breath (iykyk). Absolutely fantastic.

a handful of dust by RecoveringTheSatellites | 20K, M

Author's summary: Steve looks for Bucky for a long time. But the thing is that Bucky doesn't get found, Bucky finds. Bucky always finds Steve. This takes a hard left after the Potomac and stumbles through the dark a lot after. Take a bit of running, the occasional synaptic misfire, the resurfacing of old memories, a dash or two of PTSD, and (eventually) a nice dose of action, stir, and serve over some unresolved issues.

Honestly, the second paragraph up there perfectly sums up the story. It's a good ol' fashioned Bucky recovery fic with some angst, some action, and a whole lot of healing and devotion. Steve and Bucky get to be very sappy about each other, but also extremely Badass Battle Boyfriends™ when somebody threatens their hard-won happiness. Both are allowed to be messy, unstable, and very co-dependent.

This was the first time this author played in the Stucky sandbox and I mean it 100% as a compliment when I say that you can tell. This is someone with "fresh legs" diving headfirst and very deep into the Stucky trope pool and they're doing it with great relish and enthusiam. The result is a story that rejects some of the tried and true conventions of the post-TWS fanfic canon and lovingly embraces others, but that is definitely aware of and in dialogue with the body of work that came before it. Also, it's just a really fun read that gives these two the very soft ending they deserve.

Everybody is Supposed to be Dead by pollutedstar | 22K, M

Author's summary: In 1944, Bucky Barnes falls off a train into the Alps, missing and presumed dead. Months later, Steve Rogers nosedives a plane into the arctic. In 2010, the Winter Soldier project is uncovered by S.H.I.E.L.D., and Bucky Barnes is found alive. Three years later, Steve Rogers’ frozen body is found in the ocean.

A really interesting AU and a fascinating exploration of what could’ve been; the impact it would’ve had on the events and characters if Bucky had been the one to be “found” first. How would it affect Steve to come back into a world where he isn’t quite so lonely and adrift, and where he does have the relief and reassurance of having Bucky by his side and at his back? How would that have changed the way he acted and reacted to this strange new world and the people and organizations trying to recruit him to their cause even though the ice hasn't even completely melted off his body yet?

There are a lot of astute and precise observations about characters like Tony, Natasha, and Clint in this story, and on top of that, it offers up some very compelling insights into Steve's conflicted and difficult relationship with his role as Captain America.

it's never over (hey orpheus) by romcommie | 12K WIP, 2/?, M

Author's summary: He remembers a song first and then everything else follows, burying him below. Or, Bucky Barnes pieces a life back together with a few choice verses, some duct tape and seventy years worth of spite. Steve Rogers tries very hard to relearn there's a life to be lived in the first place.

Ok, listen up, people! This is a WIP and there are only 2 chapters posted so far, but I haven't felt this absolutely bonkers excited about a post-CA:TWS fic in a long while. We're talking frothing at the mouth here. I have such a massive crush on this fic, it's a bit embarrassing, really. It's one of those fics where you know after just a few paragraphs that you're in very good, very competent hands. The wealth of historical and cultural detail; the way the story shifts/flips/flickers back and forth between time, perspective and narrative levels; the Bucky voice—it's all so well done! I'm so insanely excited to see where the author takes this!

ENJOY!

#catws10 #stucky #stucky fic rec #stucky fic #stucky rec list #steve x bucky #stucky fic recs #steve x bucky fic rec #stevebucky fic rec #stevebucky #my recs #*drops this and runs aways* this rec list nearly gave me an aneurysm. you're welcome!

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prokopetz · 2 months

Text

The most consistent piece of playtest feedback I've been getting on Space Gerbils is that the Action Phase sucks, on two counts:

Blowing your roll in the Action Phase can retroactively make the Operations Phase minigame feel pointless, and there isn't really any provision for addressing runs of bad luck; some playtest groups routinely managed to whiff a 15/16 chance of success three or four cycles in a row, which makes the whole engagement grind to a halt, and there isn't an obvious way to mitigate that when an entire round of prep work boils down to a single roll of the dice.

The first point feeds into the second: the Operations Phase has its positional minigame, and the Fallout Phase has those lovely lookup tables, but then Action Phase hanging out between them is kind of nothing, mechanically speaking. Many players have reported that it feels like the Action Phase ought to have a minigame as well, and that it's incongruous for the portion of the phase cycle where stuff actually happens to be the least mechanically engaging.

There've also been reports, where drafts 0.1 and 0.2 would often become unplayable due to the play grid filling up with broken stations, drafts 0.3 and 0.4 have swung too far in the opposite direction and made complications too easy to mitigate. It's unclear whether this is due to the Action Phase's mechanics not throwing complications frequently enough, or due to the Fallout Phase not assessing those complications harshly enough; probably it's a mix of both.

Fortunately, the game's modular nature means that it's actually fairly trivial to rip out the current Action Phase procedures and replace them with something else; very little of the rest of the system would have to change. The trick is figuring out what that should look like.

The most obvious routes involve introducing individual actions in the Action Phase, but that's exactly what we don't want; mechanically, because we just made each gerbil perform a tactical action in the Operations Phase, and doing it twice in a row would double the handling time of an already ponderous system; and thematically, because acting "as" the gerbils' singular assumed persona after doing all that setup as individuals is kind of the whole point!

In balance, this is a good problem to have, because I enjoy designing stupid minigames.

As for what that hypothetical Action Phase minigame might look like, I keep coming back to the idea of taking a page from Gone to Hell and formalising the presently-optional rule that the players should take turns "being" the bounty hunter persona in each Action Phase. That would definitely help with sorting out the forthcoming rules for GMless play, since the players whose "turn" it isn't could step into the encounter management roll. However, that leaves the off-turn players twiddling their thumbs every Action Phase in GMful play, which in turns means either having two separate sets of Action Phase procedures for GMful and GMless play, or biting the bullet and making Space Gerbils exclusively GMless, neither of which terribly appeals.

This post is mostly just me thinking out loud, so I don't expect anyone to have an opinion, but as always, I'm open to suggestions!

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #space gerbils #game design #playtesting #swearing

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zoe-oneesama · 3 months

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Less of a question and more of a comment? But your most recent ask about your Angelic Layer AU. which I love btw big AL fan, reminded me just how jarring the choices between the anime and manga were, that honestly, the anime probably gave the series a better boost in popularity overall just by way of HOW it handled everything, including the juggling relationships, because the way the manga pairs everyone off it strange

It was baffling to behold...uuuuuntil I looked at the manga vs anime release dates. Then it made sense. The manga started first...then then anime caught up but the manga wasn't done...so the anime went off and did it's own thing.

And it's own thing was insane. 🙃

I guess I get it because in most anime when they catch up to source material they'll add in tons of filler so the manga can make more material, but that only really works if the anime and manga are...popular. And Angelic Layer is most decidedly not. Though hilariously that didn't stop them from trying with stuff like a beach episode. A BEACH episode with MIDDLE schoolers and their dolls.

Now You might not like the way the middle schoolers got paired off at the end (seriously, who saw Tamayo dating the pervert high schooler who guesses people's underwear prints, like, wut?) but at least Misaki and Kotaro had build up. Boring, milktoast build up, but build up.

The anime's decision to go along with that build up, catch up to the manga, and then completely ditch all that to suddenly make Misaki oblivious to Kotaro despite for like 12 episode having a clear crush on him, give Ohjiro a crush on Misaki's mother just to turn around and pair him with Misaki, making Ichiro ALSO have a crush on Misaki's mother, and then suddenly reframe all of Tamayo's endless beatings on Kotaro and teasing him about his feelings for Misaki be a sign that she had a crush all this time...

Yeah big yikes. I usually root for the childhood friend in anime, so, way to go Angelic Layer for breaking that rule for me.

Not to say all the changes were bad. I liked the expansion on the game, including the kinda team/pit crew idea they threw in for the National Tournament, and the longer episodes made all the upgrades that were introduced to the game feel better paced and more monumental than they did in the manga. I definitely felt the tension and drama much better between Misaki and her mother in the anime. It was the only time I cried watching and the first time Misaki felt like a rounded dimensional character. And while I took a jab at Icchan getting a crush on Mama Shuko, with their backstory and the way it directly effected the development of Angelic Layer the game, I was kinda into it in the vacuum of the show.

(Though my Chobits loving heart kept shouting about how he has a WHOLE ASS WIFE-!)

#angelic layer

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yawntu · 1 year

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ASS OR TITS FOR THE ATWOW GUYS RN IM BEGGING IT CAN BE QUICK 💳💥💳💥💳💥 Rotxo, Aonung, Neteyam and Lo’ak please please please

a/n: alright, i’m going to be hearing you out this time. I was working on a totally different request about these specific guys so if that one’s yours too I promise it’ll be done by the end of the night but I got a little carried away with how each of them feel about your tongue ring and it’s way longer than this. This ask was quicker for me and I could publish it while I ate a little snack (this took me less then a half hour and I did it while I ate I promise i’ll get around to editing and proofreading LMAO). Fem body descriptions to fit the nature of the prompt. warning: tumblr mobile eats the end of my fucking posts for some reason

pairing(s): Ao’nung x f!Reader, Neteyam x f!Reader, Rotxo x f!Reader, Lo’ak x f!Reader

word count: ~ 100 words each

warnings: NSFW / MDNI. Female bodily descriptions, Spicy but not extremely explicit smut, Fondling, Public display of affection / public play (Ao’nung), Breeding? (Ao’nung), Impact play (Neteyam), Rough doggy (Rotxo), Analingus if u squint (Rotxo), Nipple play (Lo’ak), lmk if I miss pls I suck at warnings

꧁ Ao’nung: Can not help but love your boobs. Everything about them. Between their shape, the intoxicating weight of them in his palms, and the fact that they'll feed his kids one day it is obvious why he would obsess over them. These reasons are all valid in his mind, but more importantly to him- other people notice them as well. He can't help but make sure you know they belong to him.

Everyone thinks Ao'nung is an ass man and while I'm sure Ao'nung loves pulling you back by your pretty little tail so he can listen to the sound of your pretty ass bounce against his thick thighs and toned lower stomach- but Ao'nung is a boob man. There's something hypnotizing about the way the fat of your breasts bounces anytime you jump into the water or the way your colorful little tops always rise from your breasts when you convince him to play in said water with you on your shared downtime.

He can't help wrapping one of his big palms around them- squishing and kneading at the flesh anytime he finds the chance. Not only does he get to squeeze your very pretty boobs, but he also gets to hear the pretty annoyed whine you always give him. Some half-hearted comment about how people could see what he was doing. As if Ao'nung could possibly care what anyone thinks; it's bold of you to act as if you do not know that his favorite thing in all of Pandora is leaving wine-stained bruises all over the expanse of your tits for everyone to see.

꧁ Neteyam: loves everything about you, he couldn’t possibly favor one part of your pretty little body could he?

How can he pick? If someone had told him to choose the best part of your body or die he might just have to say a prayer and meet Eywa. He spends a concerning amount of time thinking about groping at every inch of you. Out of all of the people in Pandora, he is definitely the most enamored with you. So enamored he genuinely does not have a conscious preference. If he reflects on the way he naturally reacts to your body though, he would have to say that he was an ass man.

What can he say? He grew up with pretty strict rules and his own self-imposed regulations. Something is just so satisfying when either on purpose or accidentally, you break said rules. He relishes in the domineering feeling that blossoms in his wide chest and sinks down into his twitching stomach as he gets to toss you down over his legs. Relish in the sharp sound of his smack at the round of your ass while you blabbed and moaned about how sorry you were. Neteyam can never bring himself to truly listen to you though. Too busy watching your skin change colors for him at the command of his controlled strikes.

꧁ Rotxo: is the most ass man to ever appreciate ass. You can convince him to do just about anything if you bend over and flick your tail at him.

It's embarrassing how quickly he'll say ass. He's obsessed with it. He can't even hide it from your close circle of friends. Unapologetically zoned out, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet as he watches your pretty little form walk down the beach and away from him. It's why he is so enthusiastically ruthless when he's got your frame bent over in front of him in doggy. Eyes feasting on the ripple of your ass as he slams into you. He can't even hear how you beg him to slow down over the clap of your ass and the thud of his own heart in his blushing ears. He swears the undulation of the way the skin ripples against the force of him makes you prettier than the sea herself.

Walking next to you just doesn't feel right if he isn't grasping at the fat of your hips or thighs. He has to force himself to be decent in public, but to him, it's just not fair. Why would his mate have such a nice ass if it wasn't for him to hold? Eywa forbid he isn't laying his head on the plump of your ass any time you lay on your stomach, it's to make up for how little he can touch you during the day. He'll bite, lick, and paw at it all night if you'd let him.

꧁ Lo’ak: Knows what he likes. He doesn't hide how much he likes you, but you know how much he likes loving you in the privacy of your own home. There's nothing that gets him through the day quite like knowing he gets to lay down with your boobs in his face and you're sweet enough to let him use you how he wants.

Tits. He'd have to put a lot of thought into it because to anyone who has ever had the misfortune of watching the two of you interact would have sworn your mate was utterly obsessed with the fat of your ass considering how often his hands were attached to it. Lo'ak is not shy in the slightest with you, so playful smacks and grabs are commonplace no matter where you happen to be bent over. That, however, is only what he lets people see. This was only him being considerate of those forced to endure being in the same area as the two of you.

What people do not know however, is the second the two of you are wrapped in the comfort of privacy his pretty plump lips are almost always leaving sloppy open-mouth kisses up the expanse of your pretty azure chest and toying your nipples with his tongue until his spit is dripping off of you. He can't help but find comfort in listening to the flutter of your erratic heartbeat and your pretty little sighs as he tries his very best to make you cum just like that. It helps him unwind from his often busy days and it even helps you relax and drift off to sleep. How is he meant to spend a single night without your pretty boobs in his mouth?

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monsterbachelors · 2 months

Text

The Three Don'ts of Sabertooth Brewing

[contains semi-public sex + fem!reader]

SUMMARY: You visit Yanu at work on a slow night. One thing leads to another and just when things get exciting, something both unpleasant and unexpected forces you to take a rain check on back-alley romps.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

A smile brightens your face when you see the Sabertooth Brewing sign from across the street. The venue doesn’t look like an appropriate place for a young lady without nefarious motives but at the same time, the entirety of the Copper Valley district doesn’t appear so. Nonetheless, you couldn’t think of a safer place to be. Whatever turf wars the former copper miners lead, they all agreed to omit Yanu and his business. It reached the point where some locals called the bar “the embassy” as it’s the only neutral ground in the neighbourhood.

The rough-looking miners curtly nod at you as you walk past them. A cloud of smoke and soot surrounds the two men. They always stand near the entrance of the locale but never go inside. Smoking one cigarette after another, their job must be to ensure that Yanu stays largely unbothered by the conflicts of Copper Valley. So far, they’ve been excellent at doing their duties.

You giggle quietly as you read the sign hanging on the front door:

Don’t: - fight - spill drinks - ask Q’rill to make a mojito

A bell chimes when you push the door open. Low, yellow lights make the interior look cosy. Conversations held by the patrons sitting in booths and around small tables are drowned out by a trio playing a familiar swing tune. The smell of cigarette smoke fills your lungs and sticks to your clothes. Two waiters weave between tables and clients, faux joy plastered to their faces. One of them notices you - she gives you a quick wave and nods towards the long bar counter.

Although he is surrounded by bottles filled with colourful drinks, it’s impossible to overlook Yanu. Maybe it’s a general rule or perhaps it’s just your fatal affliction. He’s wearing a shirt, a vest and a pair of tailored pants - exactly what one would expect a bartender to wear. Seemingly lost in thought, he’s just wiping some glasses but still, there is something unspeakably captivating about him. An aura that paints him as extraordinary and not just the way he is.

Yanu must notice you approaching out of the corner of his eye. When his gaze meets yours, his expression immediately changes. The deep, pink scar across his blind right eye gives the rakshasa a certain edge but even that isn’t enough to hide the pure adoration painted all over his face. His blue iris stares at you lovingly until a shadow of mischief dances across Yanu’s features.

“My, my, I don’t recall having an appointment with a princess,” he speaks with pretend surprise.

“Princesses don’t make appointments,” you answer casually. Sitting on the high bar stool, you’re still significantly shorter than the rakshasa behind the counter. “They just show up when they want to.”

He chuckles in a low voice. “Gods bless them for that.”

Yanu leans on his forearms on the counter and hangs his head to let you kiss his cheek. Round, furry ears adorned with silver jewellery flutter as they brush against your hair. It tickles when his whiskers touch your face.

Feeling his breath against your skin, you don’t have to speak loudly. “I hope I’m not interrupting you.”

“You,” he points an accusatory finger at you, “interrupt my every coherent thought but I’ve learnt to enjoy that.”

Suddenly, your face gets hot. “I’m being serious, Yanu,” you say through flustered giggles. Even after all this time, it’s beyond easy for him to make you giddy.

“Likewise.” He winks at you before standing up straight. “So how can I spoil a princess’s palate?”

“Hm… I feel like elderberry.”

“Drunk all the time, feeling fine on elderberry wine*,” he sings while looking around for ingredients. The idea for a cocktail comes to him in an instant as befits a true connoisseur.

Yanu appears to be in a trance as he pours and mixes lemonade, vodka, St-Germain and some thyme. Every action is quick and decisive but never careless. Similarly, you are in a sort of trance, too - watching his white shirt and elegant black vest strain around the muscles of his arms. One day the seams of the garments might just let go but say, would it really be so bad?

The rakshasa pours elderflower syrup into the shaker. With a swift flick of his wrist, the shaker with your cocktail-to-be flips in the air. The metal cup makes a full circle only to be caught again by his hand, its content poured into a square drinking glass.

He looks at you in anticipation. Satisfaction is written all over his face. “Pretty nice, right?”

But you’re in a bantering mood tonight. Not letting him see how in awe you truly are, you only raise your eyebrows. “You have huge arms. It would be more impressive if you dropped that.”

Yanu sighs dramatically. He shakes his head and crosses his arms across his chest. If it wasn’t for the glimmer of amusement in his good eye, you’d think he’s genuinely upset. “And here I thought that a lowlife like me could impress a princess.”

“Well…” you ponder for a moment, “there are a few things you could do with your hands that would be impressive.”

Something changes about his demeanour. The amusement stayed but now it is joined by some darkness that leaves an aftertaste of chocolates with brandy - warming and rejuvenatingly bittersweet.

“Really?” he asks in a low voice. His blue eye is watching you intensely, almost looking through you. “Pray tell, what do you have in mind?”

Perhaps there’s some perversion to it but you enjoy leaving his question unanswered for a while. Slowly, you sip on the drink, silently enjoying the perfectly balanced flavours. Not too sweet, not too sour. A true testimony of how well Yanu knows you. That passionate gaze of his never once leaves you, catching even the smallest of movements. A predator or a lover? - how similar these two can be.

“A princess shouldn’t be saying such things out loud,” you finally say.

Yanu leans on his arms against the bar counter. With each exhale, his warm breath gently brushes against your face. There’s some intensity hidden under his casual demeanour as though if you were to play your cards right, he might just cause scandalous immodesty in full view of the clients.

“Will she share them away from prying ears?” More than a question, it’s a suggestion. One that you have neither the will nor the want to reject.

Feigning innocence, you shrug your shoulders. “Perhaps.”

The rakshasa only chuckles. He stands up straight and calls out to someone:

“Hey, Q’rill! Watch the bar for me for a bit, eh?”

The drow, equally well-dressed as Yanu, doesn’t even look your way. Still cutting a lemon into pieces, he answers in a heavy accent, “Got you, boss.”

Not waiting for a sign or a word of encouragement, you get off the stool and walk towards the closer end of the counter. Ever the gentleman, Yanu lifts the wooden part, letting you go behind the bar. But that’s not where the two of you are headed - you follow him through the back of the brewery, only to leave through the staff door.

The alley is dark and narrow. Something rattles in the skip filled with trash, probably a rat or two. In the distance, far away from where you’re standing, cars drive by every now and again. Muffled swing music played by the trio inside the bar sounds like an ambience of a faraway world.

Yanu pushes you against the wall. He’s towering over you - if he so wished, he could effortlessly throw you over his shoulder and carry off. The bricks are cold against your back but soon you find them refreshing when compared to the warmth beaming from the rakshasa. His rough tongue slowly licks the side of your neck. It’s strange, tickling and absolutely delightful.

One of his hands lifts your leg, resting your knee against his hips. Lustful greediness has him grabbing and groping whatever part of your thigh and ass.

Just when a pleased sigh leaves your lips, Yanu stops licking your neck and nuzzles it instead.

“So how can I impress my princess?” he purrs into your ear.

He’s not waiting for an answer - not really. Not when you feel his clothed erection grinding against your groin. You can almost feel your arousal dripping down your legs.

Yanu’s other hand slides into your underwear. His fingers, thick and furry, sensually rub your clit in circles. Breath hitches in your throat. “Would this impress her?” he asks.

“Maybe,” you manage to say between whimpers.

The rakshasa only hums in response. It’s hard to say whether your answer satisfies him.

A loud moan escapes your lips as Yanu easily slips his fingers inside your pussy. The stretch is already more than enough for you. Slow strokes have him reaching deliciously deep inside you.

“You look so pretty like this, princess.”

Looking for support, your hands grab his shoulders. It feels as though your abdomen is suddenly set on fire, your coherent thoughts swimming away and turning into static, if not disappearing completely. There is only Yanu, his quiet groans against your neck and his thick fingers hitting that perfect spot.

“Faster, please,” you squeal.

With utmost pleasure, he obliges immediately. It feels so good you could scream but not a sound leaves your agape mouth. If you weren’t so lost in your pleasure, maybe you’d notice your legs quivering. Your grip on his shoulders only tightens, earning a chuckle from him.

“My princess is going to come?” Yanu coos.

No answer comes from you, only another pathetic moan. Desperate to orgasm, you begin rubbing your clit. It’s “allowed” in these extraordinary circumstances. No doubt Yanu’s “I live to please you” attitude will come back behind closed doors and between the white sheets of your bed.

Your vagina is clenching around his relentlessly thrusting fingers, your whole body begins shaking. A cry gets stuck in your throat. The wave of pleasure, the climax he so eagerly gives you, washes over you more like a tsunami than a wave. It drowns out your thoughts, your breathing, your strength. Fortunately, Yanu has a tight grip around your leg, keeping you standing straight. He’s still sliding in and out of you, letting you ride out your orgasm.

Finally, he slips his fingers out of you. You’re about to say something, thank him or praise him, when a loud crash resounds from inside the bar. Someone’s yelling but the voice is too muffled for either of you to understand what’s the matter.

Yanu and you exchange a look of both confusion and worry. Then, as though lovers know something akin to telepathy, the two of you chuckle.

“Mojito,” you say simultaneously.

When your laughter, contrary to the row next door, dies down, you let out a sigh. “Guess we’ll have to postpone our little escapade.”

Yanu brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. He’s a cheeky man, staring right into your eyes while doing something so indecent. “I’m fine with that,” comes the answer.

But you can play that game, too.

Low groan rumbles inside his chest when your hand teasingly rubs his prominent bulge. He clenches his fists, doing his utmost best to keep himself collected. You could so easily make him fail at that…

“Are you, though?” you ask with faux innocence.

Although you’ve just had a great orgasm, you can feel your pussy throbbing again. As your mind wanders for a second or two, pondering possibilities, your mouth starts watering.

Yanu firmly grabs the wrist of your hand caressing his crotch. Keeping you in place, he grinds against your palm. Through clenched teeth, he growls into your ear.

“I’m a big boy,” the rakshasa purrs. “I can wait a few hours.”

“I know you’re big, boy,” you retort in an equally sultry voice. “I’ll see you home.”

In a loving gesture, he nuzzles against your neck one last time. “Don’t stray.”

After that, he watches you walk away. Only when you disappear behind the corner does he go back inside the bar. As much as he likes Q’rill, he’d much rather go back home with you.

_____

*Lyrics from "Elderberry wine" by Elton John. A bit of an anachronism, yes, but a damn good song.

If you see any books, plays, movies, paintings or songs mentioned, it's most probably something very close to my heart :)

I'm also a complete greenhorn in writing smut, so bear with me as I learn on the go.

#monster romance #monster boyfriend #monster smut #teratophillia #monster fucker #monster bachelors of dawncrest #monster x human #monster x female #monster x reader #monster x you #rakshasa x reader #rakshasa smut #rakshasa x you #rakshasa x human #monsterkink #monster kink #monster fucking #terato

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 10 months

Note

Hi can you write like a small one-shot where thor sneaks the reader into Asgard to surprise loki for Christmas and because she needs to tell him that shes pregnant

.⋆｡The Things He Left Behind｡⋆.

Loki x plus size reader

Pregnancy announcements can be terrifying even for regular people but with your baby daddy being a Frost Giant, god, a criminal and someone who has pretty much implied he doesn’t want kids, you have a long uphill battle. Oh, and it’s Christmas

Warnings: pregnancy, fear of rejection, fluff, brief mentions of morning sickness and nausea, implied smut, tiny bit of angst

WC: 2.7k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Being pregnant was an interesting phenomenon; a person was growing inside of you, someone who would grow up to be their own adult. You knew logically that at only a couple months along, the baby was simply a clump of cells that would eventually mature into something new. But already, you were so attached to the life that could be.

Normally, something so monumental as being pregnant with a child born from love between life partners would be celebrated, but your heart was filled with dread and fear. The relationship you had was rocky at best, not in terms of love, there was plenty of that, but because he was a criminal and a dangerous one at that.

It was a punishment for his crimes. He was to be kept on Earth, stuck with the men and women he had attempted to rule. You met him by chance, accidentally bumping into the striking god as you were rushing to attend a meeting on behalf of your boss. As you fell to the floor, you caught his eyes and something shifted within you as it did within him.

Your love had been secret, growing in the darkness of the dead of night, in shadowy corridors and empty rooms. Your soul ached for him as if he held a piece of you in his cold hands, never to be returned. You were his just as much as he was yours and for a time, that was enough.

But as the months carried on, the looming threat of his inevitable departure became monstrous. There was no changing his fate, he would have to leave and you both knew that your pleas and your begging for him to stay would fall on deaf ears. So on his last night with you, he slipped from the not-so-watchful eyes of Earth’s greatest heroes and stole you away.

He took you to Paris, lavishing you with gifts that you still held sacred to this day. He worshipped you with everything he had, taking you apart over and over again until the cold light of day washed over your naked bodies and he was forced to leave your bed in handcuffs.

But jewels and books were not the only things he left you.

The exhaustion came first, then the extreme tenderness of your breasts, and lastly, the dreaded morning sickness. Your boss, Maria Hill, was the first to broach the issue with you after you had fallen asleep at your desk one too many times. She shoved the box of tests into your hand, telling you it was ok and that she knew but didn’t judge.

Now, as the first snow of the year began to fall and your stomach was beginning to round out, you approached the one man who could help you. “Thor?” His eyes met yours from over the back of the huge leather sofa. A pop-tart crumb hung on the corner of his lips which fell off as soon as he smiled when he saw you.

“Ah! My brother’s love! How are you on this fine day?” You chuckled humorlessly and decided to indulge the god for a bit before asking him a favour which might get him into some serious trouble.

“I’m doing ok, looking forward to Christmas.” You nervously shuffled on your feet, the modest kitten heels you had been forced to wear because of your aching feet, clicking against the dark hardwood flooring. Even with his deep confusion regarding human behaviour, Thor could see how anxious you were.

He shifted forward and rose from the couch then turned to you. “There is something amiss, what is it?”

“You need to get me to Asgard. I have to see Loki.” He froze as a bewildered look came over his face.

“I cannot do that my lady. Even I am not allowed to visit my brother and he is, well he is my little brother. Odin has ordered him to be isolated from everyone as his-“

“I’m pregnant!” You blurted out, interrupting the god. “I’m pregnant with Loki’s baby.” Thor’s body physically seized as the weight of your words hit him. His blue eyes went wide with shock, and if you weren’t mistaken, maybe a little bit of excitement.

Tentatively, he inched closer to you. Like a puppy, he was vibrating with nerves. “Really!” Unable to help yourself, you smiled at your friend.

“Really really.” Your hand came to rest on the soft fat above your womb. “But Thor, Loki needs to know. And I need help, I don’t know how a human body will handle growing a half-Frost Giant demigod.”

“Yes.” He agreed. “Yes! We must bring you back home and then we can fix all of this.” Thor looked frazzled as he righted himself in front of you. “Mother will have some idea of what to do and I’m sure she will be able to sneak you into the prison.” Before you could realise what was happening, Thor had swept you into his muscular arms and was running through the compound.

“Thor! We can’t go now! I need to get my things!” You bounced with every step he took and you clung to his shirt.

Thor shook his head. “I can bring you new things, we must get you home.” The winter air hit you like a slap in the face as the god bounded outside, not even flinching at the drastic change in temperature. “Just hold tight my friend, you will be with your beloved soon enough!”

——————

Asgard was completely overwhelming and as you walked through the golden streets, arm linked with Thor’s, you finally understood why Loki spoke so ill of the place. Each and every person you passed carried an air of smug superiority about them, even as they bent in a shallow bow or curtsy to their prince. They were gods, perfect beings who had conquered worlds and existed for thousands of years in peace.

The huge palace drew closer and your hold tightened around Thor. You had the distinct urge to hold your belly for comfort, to know that part of Loki was still with you, but you were scared of the judgemental gazes of the beautiful people around you. “We are almost there my friend. I will take you straight to the Allmother.”

He patted your hand kindly. “Everyone here is scarily beautiful.” You mutter under your breath but evidently he heard you.

“Then you will fit right in.” He murmured back as you stepped over the threshold to his childhood home. The ornate walls towered over you both, sealing you into a place you should have never been. The gold is almost blinding, coating pretty much every surface as far as the eye could see.

You cringed at the loudness of your small heels against the floor, the sound echoing through the great halls like a drum. Your fingers curled into Thor’s warm skin. He glanced down at you but your eyes were fixed straight ahead, oblivious to his gaze. He just started walking faster, unable to find the words to comfort you.

The smell of lilies invaded your senses, turning your stomach. Your nausea had settled after your first trimester ended but apparently the baby just didn’t like flowers. The smell steadily became stronger, as did the urge to throw up but by the time you reached a set of dark oak doors, your nerves were far more overpowering.

Before Thor could even raise his fist to knock, the doors swung inwards, revealing a bright but homey room absolutely bursting with colour. An older woman stood in the entryway, dressed simply in a flowing green dress, her dark blonde hair braided back simply. Her eyes lit up with a knowing light. “My Thor.” She cooed, easily accepting a crushing hug from the god before she turned to you.

“I have been waiting to meet you for a very long time my dear.” She said plainly and suddenly all your nerves were gone. Your grimace floated into a smile as her arms wrapped around you in a hug so loving it made your chest burn with affection.

Unable to stop yourself, you nuzzle into her safe embrace, your whole body relaxing. She laid a kiss to your temple before pulling away but her hands remained firmly on your shoulders. “Loki has told me all about you, he will be happy to see you.”

Anxiety returned like a tidal wave, washing away the warm feeling your almost mother-in-law gave you. Your smile dimmed while your hands came to rest on your lower stomach. “He might not be as excited when he learns why I’m here.”

Frigg’s hands move to cup your rounded cheeks, forcing you to meet her eyes. “He loves you and he will love the child. Even if it doesn’t seem that way at first. Now let us make sure you and the little one are fed and healthy and then you can see him.” She took you by your left hand and guided you further into the room as Thor, with a huge smile on his face, left the two of you alone to talk.

——————

Christmas was vastly different on Asgard, you learned quickly. There was no snow, no cold, no carols or quiet nights. It mainly consisted of feasts and celebrations that lasted for days. But what was the same were the gifts. Thousands were exchanged through the festivities and Thor had somehow gotten into his head that you were the gift he was going to give to his estranged brother.

Much to his own and his mother’s amusement, he ripped up a piece of fabric and tied it in a bow around your midsection. “Come now! He will love it!” You just huffed and rolled your eyes but allowed him to continue making small adjustments to the bow.

Frigg sat on one of the many couches in her chambers, sipping on a now mostly cold cup of tea as she laughed at the pair of you. A large weight had been lifted from the room now that the healer had confirmed the baby was healthy and growing as they should.

And now, a warmth grew within you. This was what you wanted, a loving family with the man who had so easily snatched up your heart. All of the material things he had left behind were nothing compared to this moment.

As the sun began to set over the great city, you were bundled up in a thick cloak that disguised you well and led you down to the prison. The guards turned their heads as who they assumed was the queen passed by on her nightly visit to her younger son. They knew it was technically not allowed by the king but it stopped the dark prince from destroying his cell every chance he got, so they just let it happen.

His cage was kept far away from the others, isolated for his crimes, even from those who faced the same harsh punishments. Yet he was given luxuries that none of the others were afforded, Loki assumed it was pity from his adoptive family that drove them to decorate the small room with lavish goods.

From the angle at which you entered his part of the prison, you could clearly see your love without him seeing you. You felt like crying. He was so close, you swore if you reached out just a few inches, you could touch him.

Loki was sitting on the ground, his back to you, as he stared off into space. His hair, normally clean and beautifully styled, fell in front of his face in unruly raven waves, partially hiding his paler than normal skin. He was barefoot and wearing clothes that should have been changed days ago.

Your heart lurched at the sight of him. In the months you had known him, you had never seen the god so… broken. And you supposed that’s what he was. He had been tortured and betrayed, cast aside by the only people he had known as his family before being labelled a criminal and thrown away to rot. Tears blurred your vision before you quickly wiped them away with a sniffle.

“I have told you that I do not want to see anyone mother.” He hissed, letting his head fall back against the enchanted glass as he did so.

“I had hoped that you would make an exception for me.” Your voice was weak but just the sound alone caused his whole body to freeze.

Slowly, almost cautiously, he rose to his feet, turning on his heel to face you. As soon as his eyes met yours, his body visibly fell and his face disappeared behind his hands. “Loki?” A heartbreaking sob ripped from his lungs as he collapsed to his knees.

Panic set your veins alight and with a trembling hand, you used the small magic key Frigg had bestowed upon you to enter the cell. You wasted no time, immediately taking him into your arms for the first time in months.

His face burrowed into the crook of your neck as he wound around you. He shook in your embrace, his tears soaking through your clothes as he cried, holding onto you as tight as you could. You placed kiss after kiss to his head in a vain attempt to sooth him as you succumbed to your own emotions.

“Are you really here?” You tried to answer him through the tears but all you could get out was more of a grunt than a word but you nodded against his hair and squeezed him even tighter. “H-how?”

Loki pulled away from you just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were bloodshot, making the blue of his irises even more striking. “Thor and your mother.” You managed to stammer out.

There was a brief moment of silence as his dark brow furrowed in what you assumed to be confusion. His gaze dropped down to your body, still hidden by the thick cloak, then looked around the cell as if searching for someone. “Who else is here? I sense another presence.”

“That's why I came here.” You gently guided his left hand down to your bump that seemed to grow each day, laying his palm flat against your stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Loki’s breath caught, his eyes going wide. And he flinched.

Immediately, you were consumed by the fear you had tried so hard to tamp down since the first moment you saw that little plus sign on the test. He didn’t want the baby, he didn’t want you. This whole thing was a mistake, your mind screamed at you. But as your muscles tensed like you were preparing to run, Loki snapped out of it.

The world blurred around you and suddenly you were laying on a small bed in the corner, Loki hovering over you. His lean body slid easily between your soft thighs, pinning you to the surprisingly comfortable mattress with his weight. “My love. You’re truly with child?” His voice shook, his hand returning to your stomach.

“26 weeks as of yesterday and perfectly healthy.” He nodded and met your gaze once more, a small smile growing on his pallid lips.

“I had a feeling. I thought- I thought something happened to you but it was just a new life being formed.” You breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed against the bed.

“And how would you know that?” You cooed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Darling just because I have been locked away doesn’t mean that I can’t still use my magic.” His hand slipped up your front, obviously intending to go for your swollen breast but he paused at the extra piece of fabric that was now laying around your waist. “What is this?”

You responded with a giggle. “A bow. Thor wanted to give me to you for Christmas.” A fond look came over his face then, a realisation that you were not yet privy to.

“Indeed this is the best gift he could have ever given me.” Then for the first time in six months, he kissed you.

And as he stripped away your clothes and made love to you more tenderly than ever before, you couldn’t help but agree- this was the best gift to ever have been given

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electric-blue24 · 3 months

Text

more baldur's gate Tav or in this case cirrus the monk, currently working on a character sheet for the hell of it so here are some parts

some notes

im running a lighting charge monk build and ive found my favourite strat is have gale make a big area of water then just stand in it for free healing for me and tasers for everyone else

i love that illithid powers let you become a displacer beast adore those guys especially because it gives me free dimension doo , i also like the idea that depending on what you are your shape changes will reflect that hence the bright blue scales. bonus that i have the displacer beast cloak ive got a good theme going

since becoming half illithid lets you fly im saying it gives you wings because i make the rules round here

ive been swapping between a blue and white colour scheme for most of the run

i found something called a resonate stone that makes things weak to psychic dmg with is great for all my illithid powers and for my way of the open hand monk. unfortunately it give you disadvantage on mental saving throws like for say if you got cursed by a laughing monk. side note this also makes my team take extra smg when i teleport them with the displacer beast form whoops

can also turn into a raven, very fitting and helps me stealth into places and steal all the shiny things they have

#bg3 #tav #baldur's gate 3 #dragonborn #dnd #cirrus #displacer beast #blues art #raven #dragon #monk

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musings-of-a-rose · 7 months

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Hey! I don’t know if you’re taking requests but I just had a really angsty, sad Frankie idea. Reader used to be in Delta force with the guys but something bad happened, reader dies or is really badly injured. Frankie takes her hat, Standard Heating Oil, and from then on, he wears it every single day as a tribute to his fallen team member (who he was secretly in love with. Maybe he told reader, maybe he didn’t…) Anyway, that’s my idea. Thanks!

Catfish and Shadow

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f! Reader

Word Count: 5400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: This was such a good ask! It hurts in all the right ways. I’m actually going to pull a little from a real life experience that happened to my husband. If I remember, I’ll put an author’s note at the end with what happened! Huge thanks to @rhoorl for beta reading - if you haven't checked our her fics, go now!

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**Reader is not described

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Frankie Morales Masterlist

“Hold on, Shadow. There’s still some hair sticking out from under your hat.” Frankie turns slightly to me from his place next to me in the dark hallway, reaching up to tuck a random strand of my loose hair under my hat. His fingers linger slightly as his eyes glance down at mine, a quick, soft smile on his face, seeming like he wants to say something but changes his mind at the last minute.

“One of these days you’ll have to tell me what the Standard Heating Oil is from,” Frankie says to me, nodding up to the patch label on my hat.

“If we get out of this alive, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“It’s a deal. Please be safe, Shadow.”

“I always am. Plus, I have you watching my ass so I know I’ll be good.” His ears turn pink as he stammers. But before he can retort, Redfly, our leader, clears his throat. “Everyone ready? Shadow, your hat secure? We don’t want them knowing you’re a woman if we can help it.”

I nod, swallowing down the nerves in my stomach. “Yes, sir.”

Redfly nods at me before looking at Frankie. “Make sure to watch her six. She’s smaller than you, less noticeable, so she’ll be on the ground.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ironhead, Pope, Benny. Ready?” They all grunt their affirmatives, shifting their stance and double checking their concealed weapons were still concealed. “Alright. Let’s move.”

Quietly, we all file out from the darkened hallway, making our way to the front of the clay hut where we had changed into our undercover civilian clothes. The mission was to make it to a building several blocks away and gain access, taking out the mercenaries inside. So far, they have no idea we’re here. Waiting a minute or 2 between people, I leave the hut, taking a left turn towards the center of the town, feeling Frankie’s eyes on me from the rooftops, where he had assumed his position several minutes earlier.

“Duck your head to the right when you round this corner. There’s a group of men,” His voice rasps in my ear over the speaker. I’ll never get over how sexy his voice sounds in this thing, and maybe one day I’ll have the guts to actually tell him. I do as he says, shifting my head more right as I round the corner, pretending to look at some wares a shopkeeper had set up. Luckily the men took zero notice of me, laughing loudly at some joke, their guns slung over their shoulders swaying with their laughter.

“Lookin’ good, Shadow. Just normal civiies all the way to the rendezvous.” I nod slightly, following my orders to say nothing as my voice would give me away not only as a female, but an American as well. I make it to the rendezvous and lean against a wall, looking like I was bored waiting for someone but really I was watching the building front several feet away. A few men file out, but the door closes behind them solidly. I watch the building for several more minutes, hearing the rest of my squad all make it to their positions.

“Advance.” Redfly’s voice speaks in my ear and I push off from the wall, nonchalantly heading towards the front door. No one even looks at me aside from Frankie, who’s eyes I feel boring into me. Taking a deep breath, I make it to the front door, raise my fist, and knock twice, then once, then 3 more times in rapid succession, repeating the pattern the other men had used before entering. The door opens and a man stands there, his eyes meeting mine and briefly showing his non-recognition before the smoke bomb I had concealed in my hand clanks to the floor behind him.

Smoke billows out quickly from the bomb and I duck to the side of the building, hearing Benny, Ironhead, and Pope advance, their gunfire quietly echoing inside the thick clay building. I meet Redfly around the back and he slides me a gun, both of us covering the back exit, taking out a few men who tried to escape instead of holding down the building. One man we miss, but Frankie’s silent but deadly shot rings out from above, the man crumpling to ground, his body silent and unmoving, eyes open but the person gone.

We hear the team move through the rest of the small, 3-storied house, clearing out the floors, Redfly taking out another 2 that tried to escape through the front door where he had moved to a few minutes earlier. No one else tries to come out the back door and then we hear Benny call through the mic. “Clear.” Redfly and I move inside, me following behind him in through the front, meeting the rest of the ground team inside. I stand near the front door, watching the boys as I wait for Redfly to tell Frankie to meet up with us. I’ll feel better once he’s here.

“Frankie, make your way here,” Redfly commands in his mic, Frankie confirming before going quiet again.

“Did you locate the stash?” Redfly addresses the ground team. Benny shakes his head.

“There’s a large trunk upstairs that we need to inspect.”

Redlfy nods. “Anything else?”

Suddenly, a large, unfamiliar arm wraps around me, pulling me tight to someone’s chest, a gun barrel shoved into my temple, rapid words in a language I barely understand being spewed out over my head. My hands wrap around his arm but I can’t force it, the gun barrel pushing in further to my head. I don’t need to understand the language to know he’s telling me to not move. I freeze, the men in front of me desperately trying to negotiate my release, Ironhead rapidly spitting back words in the language I’m kicking myself for not picking up quicker. But then I hear a voice that instantly warms me, tells me everything will be ok and I swear if I make it out of here, I’m telling him exactly how I feel.

“Let her go and put down the gun.” Frankie’s voice is low and demanding, sending a shudder up my spine but not for the same reason as the man behind me, desperately clutching me to his chest. Ironhead repeats Frankie’s words back to him in his language, a quick conversation happening between them. I feel the man’s grip start to loosen, but then a quiet pop sounds, Frankie’s yell ripping through the room as another shot follows, the man that had been holding me falling to the side, a bullet ripping through his neck as he clutches at it, the last few moments of his life spewing from him before he slumps and doesn’t move. It’s not until he hits the ground that I start to feel lightheaded.

“Shadow? Shadow, talk to me!” Frankie is there, dropping himself to the floor as he holds me in his lap, his hand moving to lift up my shirt. Pain rips through me and I grunt, his quiet shushing holding me here as he lifts the edge of my shirt up. He schools his face and that’s when I know it’s bad.

“You didn’t have to wait for me to get shot to take off my shirt, you know.” I can feel the pain sinking in now, the bullet lodged somewhere in my abdomen, slowly signing my death warrant.

Frankie chuckles, swallowing hard to fight back tears. “Is that so?” I can hear Redfly yelling into his mic demanding a medic chopper to our location, the rest of the boys close but giving Frankie and I a little space.

I nod, coughing a little and whimpering at the pain that is caused by the soft movement. “You only had to ask.”

He smiles, tears he can’t stop welling up in the corners of his eyes. “Well that’s good to know. When you get patched up, I’ll take you up on that.”

I smile as best I can, my head feeling like it’s harder and harder to stay here. I blink and Frankie squeezes me lightly. “Hey, stay with me querida. Medic is almost here.”

I swallow hard, now feeling the pool of blood that’s collecting on the floor as it sinks into my pant leg. “Frankie, I don’t-”

“Sshh. Don’t say anything. You’re going to make it. You just have to hold on.”

But already there’s black at the edge of my vision, quickly beckoning me to unconsciousness, my head feeling more and more heavy as I lose more blood. I feel my eyes start to flutter closed as Frankie calls my name, the sound of a chopper getting louder and I’m trying to focus on his voice, his beautiful voice, but then I can’t, sleep taking me over as Frankie yells my real name…

“No! No, you have to stay with me!” Frankie yells, slightly shaking her body which had become more limp as her eyes flutter closed. Medics push in and at first Frankie tries to hold on to her tight, but then Pope and Benny are pulling him from her, letting the medics move in and try to stabilize her.

His Shadow. The love of his life. Why had he never told her?

Quick, rushed movements over her body, rapid words exchanged between the few medics before they place her on a stretcher, quickly moving her to the chopper waiting just beyond the buildings outside. Frankie moves to follow her, but Redfly grabs his arm.

“We need to finish the mission, Cat.”

Frankie’s eyes flash with anger. “What the fuck, Redlfy? Shadow is dying on that chopper. I’m going with her!”

“No you aren’t. That’s an order.”

“Then court marshal me.” But it’s already too late. Frankie hears the chopper ascend, carrying the person he loves most in this world away from him as she bleeds out, alone. Well not alone, but not with him.

Frankie screams, dropping to his knees as pushes his face into his hands, tugging on his hair. They let him have this moment, all of them feeling the loss of her, like a gaping hole that they have to patch up quickly that won’t feel the same. A minute goes by before Benny moves forward, dropping to a knee next to Frankie and putting his hand on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.

“Hey man. I’m sure she’ll be ok.”

Frankie’s tear stained face looks up at him. “You don’t know that.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But I do know we have to finish this mission so we can all get back safe and find her. She wouldn’t want to lose all of us because we didn’t move in time.”

The anger in Frankie’s eyes simmers at Benny’s words. He’s right. He may hate it but he’s right. Frankie nods, wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve. He moves to stand up but then he sees it on the floor, Shadow’s hat, the Standard Heating Oil logo dusty from being on the dirt floor. Frankie picks it up and dusts it off, quickly adjusting it to his size before snugly placing it on his head. Everyone nods at him, accepting this way to honor their injured teammate.

The mission is a success and they all get lifted back to base. It had been a few days since Shadow was airlifted back to medics and Frankie was itching to see if she was ok. He was determined to tell her how he feels the moment his eyes find hers. He makes his way to the medical building as soon as his boots hit the floor, Benny following behind him as the rest of the team goes to debrief. Frankie pushes open the front door and stops at the little receptionist desk, the woman behind it squinting at the screen as she slaps the side of the monitor.

“I swear they need to get us a flat panel or something. This thing is ancient.” She looks up at Frankie, a smile on her face. “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a soldier who would’ve come in 3 days ago, gunshot wound to the abdomen.” She nods as he gives her her name, the receptionist’s fingers clinking away at the keyboard. She squints at the screen again, another slap to the side of the monitor.

“Yes I see her here…gunshot wound…and you are her...?”

“Teammate. We both are,” Frankie says as Benny nods over his shoulder.

Her eyes move back to the screen as she reads some more, her lips moving with the words as she reads them. Then she stops, taking off her glasses and setting them to the side. She takes a breath and Frankie’s stomach falls out.

“I’m sorry to tell you, but she passed.”

“Passed? What do you mean passed?” Frankie asks, the lady looking from him to Benny behind him, who had silent tears streaming down his cheeks already.

“Fish-” Benny puts his hand on his shoulder but Frankie shrugs it off.

“No, don’t! What does she mean? Tell me!” He’s yelling now, Benny trying to pull him away from the receptionist, apologizing to her. She smiles sadly, a knowing look on her face.

Frankie turns to Benny, gripping his sleeves as Benny tries to pull him into his chest. “No Ben, what..she..she can’t, I never told her-” and then he crumbles into Benny’s chest, face buried in his shoulder as he wails, a hole in his gut getting larger and larger as his grief consumes him. Benny holds him tight, his own tears at the loss of his friend that was like a sister to him, trickling down his cheeks as he listens to his best friend wail into the quiet hall.

24 hours later they’re called out for another mission, Frankie pulling her hat on tight, the way he can carry her with him as he swallows down the grief that consumes him whenever he isn’t on a mission. He pours himself into his work, protecting his friends and doing what his country asks of him.

I blink awake, the lights in whatever room I’m in are dimmed, giving the room a slight yellow-white glow. I shift and wince, the bullet would in my abdomen screaming at me to be still. I place my hand over it and feel a large bandage. It’s then I realize that I’m in a hospital gown and in a hospital bed, definitely not the med bay back at base. A nurse walks into the room and smiles at me.

“Oh you’re awake! How do you feel?”

“Like I was shot in the stomach,” I croak out as she hands me a cup of water, a straw sticking out of the top.

“Small sips. Yeah I would imagine it doesn’t feel great. Would you like something more for the pain?”

I take a small sip and cough, managing to swallow a little of it. “I don’t know, honestly. How long have I been out?”

She glances at my chart. “Several days.”

“Where am I?”

She names off a hospital and seems to see that I have no idea what she’s talking about. “It’s an American run hospital here.”

“So, I’m not on base then?”

She shakes her head. “No. They moved you here because of the severity of your wounds. Let me grab the doctor.” She leaves the room and returns 20 minutes later with a man in a white coat. He takes my chart from her and scans it, nodding.

“How are we feeling?”

“Like we were shot in the stomach.”

He chuckles at my recycled joke. “Yeah I imagine so. If you need anything stronger let us know.”

I nod. “The nurse mentioned I’m not on base?”

He shakes his head. “Your injuries were too extensive to be treated on base so they brought you here immediately. We had to do surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage it caused. You’ll feel it for a while but there shouldn’t be any long term damage, aside from a scar.”

I nod. “Thank you, doctor.” He nods and leaves the room, the nurse coming back over to me.

“Do you need anything else?”

“Uh yeah, actually. Do you have clearance? To ask about another soldier?”

She nods. “I do.” She takes a paper and pen from her scrub pocket. “Write down their names and I’ll see what I can find out.”

I write down the names of my team mates, my heart tightening when I write Frankie’s name, him screaming my name with wide eyes the last thing I remember before blacking out. I hate that I put him through the ringer. It’s not my fault I know, but at least I made it and now I can tell him how I feel. I think he may feel the same for me?

The nurse leaves with my thanks and I’m left to flip through channels on the older tv that’s sitting on a hanging shelf in the upper corner of the room. There’s nothing on but I mindlessly flip through them, nervously waiting for the nurse to return. She comes back a few hours later, bringing with her my medication.

“I’m sorry it took me a minute. There’s a lot of Miller’s to sift through.”

I smile. “Yeah. Common name.” She hands me a cup with pills in it, telling me it’s my pain meds and other post surgery ones. But it’s the way she’s not quite meeting my eyes that puts me on alert. I take the meds as requested, handing her back the small paper cup.

“Just me tell me. Please.”

The nurse sighs and hesitates a brief moment before taking my hand, gently swiping her tumb across the back of my hand.

“I’m sorry dear. But none of them made it. Looks like a classified mission. ”

I pause. “What?”

“N-none of them made it.”

“Did you tell them Delta Force? Sometimes we’re in a different section.”

She nods. “Yes, ma’am. It’s…confirmed.” She squeezes my hand but I can’t register anything else she says over the high pitched ringing in my ears. Gone? That can’t be right. They were all very much alive when I…no no no! They can’t be…Frankie can’t be….The wail that rips from my throat sounds inhuman, grief spewing from my body as I scream, the nurse trying to calm me, the stitches on my stomach bursting with pain as my stomach contracts and I throw up, continuing to scream as other nurses come into the room, one of them pushing a needle into my arm and I slowly pass out, the last thought I have is of Frankie and his big, brown eyes and how I’ll never see them again.

There was no funeral. Or rather it had been finished before I could leave the hospital. I couldn’t bring myself to fly out to their graves, to see their names etched in stone. Instead, I stayed at my parent’s house, grief and depression consuming me for years. Eventually I crawled out, poking my head above the surface and taking a small breath in the form of painting. I was pretty good at it too. I sold several pieces and some rich guy commissioned me to do paintings for every room in his house. Once that was completed, several of his friends reached out and before I knew it, I had quite a little business going.

It felt good, to do something with my hands besides peeling back the skin at the corners of my nails. The hole the boys left was still very much there and I suspect it will never quite go away. But the wound Frankie’s death left behind still hurts almost as much as it did when I first found out he died about 7 years ago. Once I started painting, my parents tried to set me up on dates, but nothing ever took. I don’t want any of them. The other half of me is buried in the earth and I’ve been coming to terms with that. Which will probably take the rest of my life and the next.

My phone bings and I set down my brush, swallowing hard as I look at the shade of brown paint, nearly an exact match for Frankie’s eyes. A quick glance and it’s a text from my mom.

Mom: You’re still coming this weekend?

Yes mom. I promised I’d house sit for you after the party.

Mom: Are you sure? It’s such a long way

Mom, it’s your 30th anniversary. I’m not missing that.

Mom: Well, if you’re sure. Don’t forget to pack that lovely dress I bought you.

Of course. Just promise not to set me up with anyone

Mom: See you Friday!

I don’t like the way she avoided that last one, but I can easily get rid of them. Once they get a glimpse of my PTSD, they run.

Friday rolls around and I step off the plane, pulling my backpack up higher on my shoulder, spotting my dad through the crowd of people waiting just beyond TSA. He smiles wide and pulls me to him in a tight hug.

“Your mom wanted to come but there was some last minute emergency with the cake.”

“Sounds serious.”

He chuckles and I smile. I had missed my parents.

“Wanna grab a drink before we head home?”

“Shit, she set me up didn’t she?”

He laughs loudly this time. “She’s pretty obvious, huh? She’s just worried about you, kid. But-” he puts his hands in the air as I open my mouth to protest “-I told her you wouldn’t be interested and to leave you alone. As far as I know, she understands. Or at least she pretends to.”

A quick drink at an unfamiliar bar and then I’m walking back into my childhood home, nearly the same as it was from my childhood, just newer electronics. My mom comes into the room, her phone clutched to her ear as she listens to someone rattle off on the other end.

“Well I don’t care how it’s done but do it! The party is tomorrow!” She hangs up and sighs before giving me a tight hug.

“Everything ok, mom?”

“Oh yeah. Just people not wanting to do their jobs. But it’s fine! You’re here!”

The party passes in a blur, one guy coming to talk to me briefly before my dad whisks him away, giving me a wink as he does so. The party was beautiful and romantic, my parent’s love on full display. They leave right after the party, jetting off to Europe for 2 weeks, the honeymoon they never got to have. And as the only child without my own children, I get the honor of house-sitting, which isn’t too bad. It’s nice to get away from the city and all the bustle it brings.

Sunday morning I wake when I want, stretching before I head downstairs for some coffee, scratching absentmindedly at the scar on my stomach as I slide my hand under my Fleetwood Mac shirt. No, not mine. His. I had swiped it from him before our mission, a practical joke for when we returned from our mission and he saw it was missing. I slept with it for months after his death, eventually putting it in a ziploc bag when I noticed the smell fading and only brought it out on his birthday and when life got a little too hard. With all the love celebrating last night, my heart hurt and hung heavy, old tears falling new on my cheeks as I excused myself to cry in the bathroom for a bit, missing my what could have been. So I figured I needed the shirt. Sighing, I take a sip of my coffee, staring out of the back window at my mother’s garden, trying to take in it’s beauty and not fall too far into my own grief.

“You’re really going out there?” Benny asks Frankie, watching him toss clothes into a backpack.

“Yeah. We never went out there when we got back and I think it’s time. I just feel it.”

Benny nods. “I get it man, but what are you gonna say to her parents? ‘Sorry I never came to the funeral?’”

Frankie gives his friend a look as he zips up his backpack. “I don’t know, Ben. I just…after all these years, and the shit I’ve been through, I…I need to see her.”

Benny gives his friend a small smile. “Tell Shadow we’ll make it an annual thing and all come out to see her next year. Put an extra flower down for me?”

“I’ll make sure she knows one of them is from you.”

Benny takes his friend to the airport, pulling him into a bear hug before he boarded. The flight was uneventful, Frankie constantly checking the note in his phone with her parent’s address on it. He’d had it all these years, but never could bring himself to visit, to tell them her death was his fault, that he should’ve shot sooner or just taken the guy out. But he couldn’t tell them that, classified, and then he poured himself into his work, earning himself a sleeping disorder, a drug addiction, and a strong case of PTSD. He’d come out the other side of the addiction with the help of his friends, but the sleeping issues and PTSD remained. He supposed they always would, watching her face as the life drains from her, the love of his life.

He gets out of the rental car, taking a deep breath as he walks up the drive to the front door. It’s a nice house on a quiet street and for a moment, he listens to the sounds of the neighborhood, picturing what it must have been like for her to have grown up here, run up and down these same front steps. Tears well in his eyes and he tries to swallow them back as he knocks, afraid that if he doesn’t do it now, he’ll back out and run away, not able to at least look her parents in the eye.

But when the door opens, it’s not her mom or dad or any of her siblings. Frankie’s breath catches in his throat, his heart beating so rapidly he’d swear it was beating out of his chest, his brain trying to process what he’s seeing.

“Frankie?”

I’m halfway through my cup of coffee when someone knocks at the door. I think my mom said some packages were being delivered but I don’t want them to sit on the porch. I set my mug down and walk to the front door, unlocking it and opening it to look into deep brown eyes. Eyes I thought I would never see again. My heart leaps from my chest, my stomach twisting, my brain rapidly trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Have I finally lost it? Gone mad with grief? But then a slight breeze picks up and his hair moves and I snap out of it just enough.

“Frankie?” I think I say it, my brain still not sure if I’m hallucinating.

“Sh-Shadow?” His fingers reach towards me, barely ghosting across my cheek, but..they’re real. I can feel him touching me. He’s real and alive and I’m so confused but it can’t be my brain tricking me, right?

Suddenly he reaches out, yanking me to his chest and burying his nose in my hair, my arms winding around him and gripping him tight, inhaling him as my face presses to his chest. Tears flow freely as I grab at him, feeling him solidly under my grasp.

“I thought you were dead,” he cries into me, his tears making my hair damp.

“I thought you were dead!”

He pulls away a small bit and takes my face in his hands, his eyes looking between mine. “This is real, right? You’re really…real?”

I nod. “I am. Are you?”

“I am. I…I love you!” And then his lips are pressed to mine, soft and slightly chapped, one of his hands sliding around to the back of my head, the other settling on my hip. I kiss him back, pouring a decades worth of love and grief into that kiss for several moments before a sob erupts from my throat and I break the kiss, heaving as I cling to his shirt.

“I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry! I-I-I l-l-love y-you t-t-too!” My sobs break up my speech and I feel ridiculous, but Frankie laughs and I start to cry all over again. I’d forgotten his laugh and how warm it makes me feel and I would do anything to hear that sound for the rest of my life.

“I am barely holding it together, querida. I-wait. Is that my Fleetwood Mac shirt?”

My sobs turn into a seal bark of a laugh, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, feeling his fingers on my hip still.

“Yeah. Ha-ha I got you!”

He chuckles as he kisses me again, fingers digging deeper into my hip as he walks me back into the house, kicking the door closed behind him.

Instead of talking, we spend the next several hours in bed, Frankie pressing himself between my legs, sliding into me as if we were made for each other, years of longing and grief poured into every meet of our hips. Once we get out of a lengthy shower, Frankie lays on my childhood bed and beckons me to him, pulling me down to him as I cuddle into his side, my hand on his chest and leg over his, his fingers tracing the end of the scar that derailed my life. Our lives.

“You’ve been alive all this time?” I ask, turning my head up to look at him.

He nods sadly. “Yeah.”

“All of you?”

“Yeah, why?”

I cry again, guilty that I didn’t confirm this before he pressed me into my bed but I was so overwhelmed I didn’t even think about it. He holds me and gives me time to cry, speaking words of comfort in my ear.

“I asked the nurse to look you all up and she said you had died. That…that all of you had…had…”

“What? No, we came back from the mission a few days…after. Then we had to ship out a day later on a new one. I asked the receptionist at the med building and she said you had died.”

Anger surges through me at the years we lost over incorrect records. “Ok, who do I have to fuck up for this? Because this was bullshit. I…I don’t have words, Frankie, I-”

“I know, querida. It was either wrong records or they looked at the wrong name. And I may seem calm, but inside I’m seething. I just…I’ll deal with that later. For now, I just want to hold you and celebrate the fact that you’re alive and…wait. Did you say you love me too?”

“Francisco Morales, you have touched my body in nearly every way possible and you’re questioning my love?”

“Well I’m still not entirely sure you’re real.”

I shift, leaning up to press my lips to his. “I guess we have all the time in the world to find out.”

2 months later, we get married in my parent’s backyard, all of the Delta Force boys there to cheer us on.

Author’s Note: My husband is a veteran who served around the time of 9/11. He was injured overseas and left the army. His friends/team mates all signed back up. When he was able, he asked about his friends in order to stay in contact and was told they had all died, killed in action overseas.

Flash forward nearly 2 decades later, he makes a comment in a Facebook page for memes and gets a comment back with his nickname from back in the day. One of his friends had actually been alive this entire time and that friend had been told that my husband had died.

Facebook may be a lot of shit, but will always have a spot in my heart for it for bringing back my husband’s friend from the dead. I will never forget the look on his face when he came out to tell me!

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco catfish morales

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fictionkinfessions · 8 months

Text

Current Ask Games for April

Second round for April 16st through 30th

. 1 Fic Counts "Go to your fanfic site of choice and tell me how many fanfics there are of you / your source / a pairing you are in, and if you're happy about that?" party note please do not name or link fics!

. 2 Canon Vines ""idea for an ask game: what is a vine that you think fits your source/some of your source medias? ^_^"" party note I spose it can include tiktoks and meme vids too?

Ask Game Rules and Tags below the Read More

A pinned posts for ask games will be created with current games and past games.

Ask games have an approximate 2 week time limit for participation. Meaning the first 14 days will be a single set of ask games, then we move onto the next set.

Ask game replies sent after the 2 week limit will be posted after the second month's ask game is over.

Ask games are limited to 1-3 per week, depending how many are sent in, or how many replies they get.

Ask games have the tag 'ask games'. Ask game replies will have the tag 'gamrep'. It's a unique tag that should prevent accidental blacklisting of other posts unrelated to this.

Ask game replies will be manually interspersed between confessions, at least every other post, or multiple every other post.

Ask games and their replies are on hiatus until September 1st. Excluding ones sent previous to this which are still on the queue.

Ask games sent in before then will be saved until September 1st, as will ask game replies.

NOTE. These guidelines may be updated and changed, if there are suggestions or adjustments needed.

#ask games #mod posts #pinned posts #not confessions #mod party cat

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heliads · 2 years

Note

Okay so here come the Enola Holmes requests; hear me out, Tewksbury best friends to lovers where the reader makes things out of paper and tries to teach Tewksbury how to make paper flowers when he asks. He SUCKS at it, but he's head over heels for her and so he spends hours alone practicing and he makes her this cute bouquet out of newspaper and maybe it has like a little love confession note or something in it idk idk but my brain is in overdrive rn

YES this idea is literally the cutest thing ever to me, hope i did it justice!

masterlist

Tewkesbury doesn’t know that he’s lost until he sees her. It’s been too long since he’s been able to get away like this, trade off the drama of the House of Lords and every rule he’s expected to follow for the actual thrills of life. It may be his destiny to grow so deeply entrenched in politics that he stops seeing the difference between his working life and the rest of his waking one, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Needless to say, the second he was able to skive off another day spent around the members of Parliament, Tewkesbury did so with a flourish. He could think of nothing better than tracking down his best friend and spending the rest of the weekend annoying her without pause, but now that he’s actually here, he finds himself coming up short. It was supposed to be nothing out of the ordinary, these couple of days away, but yet when Tewkesbury stares at the girl who’s been like a sister all of these years, he suddenly wishes that connection would disappear in his head forever.

The problem is that the girl who looks up at him with a smile when she sees him looks different somehow, as if spending a mere month or two out of her company has been enough to completely rewrite Tewkesbury’s entire mental picture of her. Do her eyes always shine like that when she sees him, or is that new? Has he always wanted to smile like mad whenever they’re together, or is that the lingering affection of some new affliction Tewkesbury doesn’t think he could name if he tried?

It shakes him to the core, this sudden feeling. One moment, he’s rounding the corner to meet up with a friend, just that, and then he’s looking at this girl and all he can think about is that he never wants to leave her side again. Politics can go to hell without him. Tewkesbury only has an excuse to leave the government buildings for this weekend, but he wishes it could be forever.

He doesn’t have all of eternity to ponder this, though. Y/N L/N races up to him when their eyes meet, and then he’s standing before her, breathless and wondering how on earth he is supposed to go about as if nothing has changed when he’s pretty sure that every possible thing has.

Y/N, however, seems utterly devoid of the miraculous transformation currently wreaking havoc in between Tewkesbury’s ribs. “It’s wonderful to see you,�� she beams, “I was beginning to think that you’d gone ahead and moved into the Palace of Westminster forever. I haven’t seen you in years.”

Tewkesbury finds it within himself to scoff at this blatant lie. “That’s absurd. I saw you not seven weeks ago.”

Y/N arches a disbelieving brow. “Yes, seven weeks ago. That’s a perfectly ordinary time to go without visiting your best friend even once, you traitor.”

Tewkesbury clasps a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “Cruel. I have never once been a traitor to you.”

He doesn’t know that he could, now. He can’t imagine a world in which he is not following her around, either in endless loops around the London streets or in constant cycles of daydreams in which Tewkesbury is able to put an actual name to the emotions currently driving him mad.

Y/N grins. “I’m glad to hear it. I was worried for a second there, you know.”

“No you weren’t,” Tewkesbury laughs.

“Perhaps not,” Y/N says with an elaborate shrug, “but I like to keep you on your toes. It makes for a more dramatic weekend if we’re both slinging accusations left and right.”

“Not as fun, though,” he argues.

Y/N concedes this point through a solemn nod. “No, not as fun. I’ve never had to worry about fun with you, though.”

She looks up at him with a smile, and Tewkesbury thinks that his heart might explode out of his chest. He wants to say something, needs to say something, but all he can manage is–

“You know what would be fun? If you showed me how to make those paper crafts. I know you can do it, I’ve seen you make tons of stuff from paper before. It’s really cool, and I missed seeing you do it. I missed–”

He cuts off the hopeless flood of words before he can say something incriminating like that he missed her, but Tewkesbury gets the feeling that he’s already said too much. Also too little at the same time; Y/N promises him that they’ll get to make the paper shapes as requested, but he swears her face drops a little, like she could sense that there was something Tewkesbury was trying to say but just couldn’t manage. He wants to try again, but the words choke up his throat and he can’t get out a single syllable.

Instead, he contents himself with watching Y/N as they walk, how the sun dapples her skin with endless patterns of gold. He watches as they leave the streets as well, once they head for Y/N’s house down the block. Tewkesbury pushes the door open; it’s always been more of his home than any other corner or annex of his family place. This is where he feels at peace, and although he’s always thought that was just what came with finding a friend like Y/N, he’s starting to think that it could be more. That maybe they could be more.

It is a false hope, however, and one that will only serve to make him bleed, to rob the happiness from his chest whenever Tewkesbury looks over and sees Y/N. They are friends, compatriots, brethren in a war that all young children grown old must face at some point. Never have they been closer, and never has he wished that they could be closer still.

He’s caught staring as they head up the stairs, and he looks away hastily although the damage is done. Y/N laughs at the blush forming on his cheeks. Although Tewkesbury reacts by habit and shoves her with an outstretched, playful arm, he can’t seem to stop his hand from lingering there on her shoulder, fingers reaching as if to pluck some sort of love out of her through willpower alone.

He finds it not, though, and is forced to stay satisfied with smiling to himself and wondering if the rest of his life will be like this, just watching and hoping for a happy ending that may never come his way. Tewkesbury has always wanted something he could never have: a world outside of family rules, a universe that did not want him controlled, and now, worst of all, a love that should have stayed platonic. It is the cut that aches the most.

The moment is good, though. Y/N has always had this most peculiar skill when it comes to paper crafts, and Tewkesbury regards her now through lowered eyes. Her hands flit around the cut shapes, slicing off delicate corners and creasing folds until a simple note becomes a prancing pony, a soaring bird about to take flight around the room.

Tewkesbury shakes his head after she produces yet another paper marvel. “I don’t know how you do it,” he protests, “Show me, can’t you? Let’s make a flower or something.”

“Flowers have always been your favorite, haven’t they?” Y/N comments. She does as requested, although what are lovely narcissi and tulips in her hands turn into sadly wilted clumps of paper in his.

Tewkesbury just can’t figure out how she does it. Even after that particular day ends, he finds himself sitting in his room surrounded by heaps of useless folds, trying and failing to emulate her easy way with the paper crafts. One would think that Tewkesbury, with his lifetime of knowledge about every facet of flora there is to know, would be able to reproduce his beloved plants in paper form, but here you would be surprised.

Tewkesbury labors for hours, days even, but his progress is slow and totally frustrating. Y/N catches him at it a few times and laughs at him. The sound, so sharp it stings, carves a smile on Tewkesbury’s face even when he’s almost been driven to the point of madness by the infuriatingly unrealistic paper flowers.

He insists that Y/N show him a few more times, of course, but Tewkesbury can’t seem to pick up a single thing. Maybe that’s because he’s not really hearing but looking at his professor. The sunlight clings to her like a child, playing at her hair in ways that only golden beams can get away with in proper society. Despite Y/N’s protests that he really is getting better, Tewkesbury only thinks he’s getting better at one thing and one thing alone: falling harder for her.

Soon enough, he finds that he cannot go a day, cannot even draw a breath, without thinking about how much he loves Y/N. His room is dizzy and chaotic, the paper flowers piling up in the corners and spilling out of waste paper baskets. Tewkesbury’s hands are nicked by all the paper cuts he’s given himself by accident, and he finds his fingers keep twitching by his sides to run through the familiar folds and patterns as he goes by his days.

At some point, Tewkesbury looks up and realizes that he’s done it, mastered the things. They’re nothing compared to Y/N’s magic with them, of course, but they do the trick for now. An idea comes to him, and Tewkesbury carefully makes one pristine paper flower after another, all the types he knows by heart and some he has to consult in his books, too, just to get the right varieties.

Y/N is surprised when he presents them to her at first, this newsprint bouquet. Her eyes are enchanted and rove up and down the folded petals, the cut stems.

“You did all of this?” She asks, voice tinged with excitement.

Tewkesbury laughs. “You don’t have to seem so surprised. I was bound to get it at some point, you know.”

Y/N flashes him a grin in between her admirations of the paper flowers. “I never doubted you for a second, I swear it.”

He believes her, he always has. How is it that Tewkesbury can see straight through politicians and their lies, but yet find himself stumbling over Y/N’s every word? Every ounce of critical thought leaves his head in a blessed whirlpool the second she smiles at him. It is a problem that Tewkesbury refuses to solve.

A voice calls from behind him; Tewkesbury wasn’t able to stay for long today, only long enough to press the paper bouquet into Y/N’s hands and make her swear to look at it before he’s dashing back to the House of Lords again for the day’s work.

He doesn’t have to stay to make sure she’ll investigate, nor to discover what she finds. Soon enough, Y/N will be glancing over the paper creases and realize that not all of the flowers are made of newsprint. Some are made of notes, notes to her, notes that are at last able to explain all that Tewkesbury couldn’t put into words if he tried.

It’s a story about how a boy fell in love with a girl, how Tewkesbury is so lost on Y/N that he can’t think straight. Unable to help himself, he’s cataloged the flowers he’s made for her; camellias for longing, jasmine for sweet love, goldenrod so he’ll have luck in this, begonias so that even if she doesn’t feel the same way, he can at least thank her for all of the memories they made in the past years.

It might be the bravest thing he’s ever done. In truth, when Tewkesbury steps out of the reaches of Parliament for the day, he doesn’t know what to expect. In all his endless plotting and scheming about how to do this, he was never able to accurately sum up how Y/N might respond.

In the end, she surprises him. Tewkesbury enters the streets of London and there she is, waiting for him with a smile on her face unlike anything he’s ever seen before. Tewkesbury has prided himself on being able to place each one of her smiles in his memory, rank them on how happy she truly is, and this one blows all of the others away.

He walks to her, and they meet in the middle somewhere, both bursting with hopes finally answered.

“I love you too,” she says, “more than anything. More than you love me, I think.”

“Doubtful,” Tewkesbury replies, “I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to love more than I love you.”

She laughs. “I look forward to proving you wrong on that point.”

He looks forward to it, too. There are few things in life that can be described as going perfectly, but this, this is it. This is perfection itself, him and her and the glorious world stretching out around them. Nothing could be better.

requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!

enola holmes tag list: empty for now!

#tewkesbury #tewkesbury imagines #tewkesbury x reader #tewkesbury oneshot #enola holmes #enola holmes imagines #enola holmes x reader #enola holmes oneshot #enola holmes tewkesbury #enola holmes tewkesbury x reader #enola holmes tewkesbury oneshot

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