#he's made a living off being a wild card

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Who is This? - Bucky x Reader

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky had a wife during the 40s, she was left heartbroken after the telegram arrived (missing, presumed dead). It's surprising when 80 years later, she was working behind a bar in Madripoor of all places!

Bucky followed Sam and Zemo into a loud bar, he immediately wanted to turn around and go home, why had Zemo demanded he go back to being the Winter Soldier (even if it was one night)?

The sound of heavy drums and guitars also deafened his hearing, a song he had come to learn was The Wild Boy by a band called Duran Duran. A few bartenders and waitresses were walking around, there was only one who stuck out to him - a dark-haired young woman who reminded him too much of his departed wife.

His heart breaks even more, thinking of the woman he had left behind, his girl. The love of his life. Bucky doesn't think he will ever 'get over' her.

The way the young woman walked, carrying a tray of empty glasses (before being tossed an empty bottle by a patron), was so similar to the way his girl walked in the hole-in-the-wall diner she worked in.

She wasn't quick enough to duck under the bar before they got to the door leading upstairs (which was coincidentally next to the bar), Zemo was talking to the bouncer. "Excuse me, gentlemen," the young woman said, squeezing between the back of Zemo and the front of Bucky. Which is when he got a good look at her face.

There she was.

His girl. His wife.

He couldn't even say anything to her, as he was taken upstairs and away from his girl. He could only hope he would be allowed back in at the end of the night to see her.

Y/N Barnes made her way behind the bar, glancing up at the TV where the Kansas City Chiefs were currently playing the Buffalo Bills at Arrowhead Stadium, then down at her phone which showed the live score of the Dodgers game against the San Francisco Giants.

She had been a long-time Dodgers girl, even after she found out they had moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles.

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Yasmine asked, pushing a dry Martini in front of a 26-year-old woman.

Y/N looked up from the glasses she was putting in the dishwasher. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"One of the men who went upstairs. The way he was looking at you," Yasmine fans her hand for dramatic effect. "I would drop my panties for him in a millisecond."

"Like you don't do that every night."

Yasmine rolled her eyes and served the next half-drunk who had come to the bar.

"Don't listen to her," Anastasia told her, rolling her eyes as Yasmine flirted with her current flavour of the week.

"It's not often I do, darling," Y/N replied, fiddling with Anastasia's curls for a second, before spotting a patron. "What can I get for you, darling?"

He hung off the bar, obviously far too drunk to understand what was going on. "Another beer and your phone number," he slurred.

She shook her head, reaching over and grabbing him another beer. As far as the boss of the bar (whoever that was) was concerned unless they were unconscious- why should you stop serving them? Y/N thought it wasn't right, but no matter how often she voiced this - she was shut down.

She set the beer in front of him and then went to the register to add it to his bill (good thing she currently has his credit card behind the bar).

"Oi, sweet cheeks!" He calls, but Y/N doesn't pay attention looking over at Yasmine and Anastasia with a raised eyebrow. "Sweet cheeks! I asked for your number."

Y/N replied by simply raising her hand proudly displaying her engagement and wedding rings to the drunk. It was only a small diamond (given Bucky worked on the docks before he was deployed), and the plain band she inherited from her great-grandmother.

"What's the matter with that 'un?" He hiccups. "He got you costume jewellery or somethin'?"

Y/N shook her head. "I'm going into the back for a moment," she tells Aidan.

Little did the drunk patron know, all those years ago, this was the date she was handed the telegraph - putting in such blunt words. Her James was missing, they presumed him to be dead. It breaks her heart that they never got to have a proper funeral.

"You alright, honey?" Elizabeth (another one of the waitresses) asked, she had been outside on her break. Elizabeth was the only one who knew her true age and about her James.

"It's the day I found out James was missing," Y/N said, before bursting into more tears.

Elizabeth wrapped Y/N up in a hug, everyone oblivious to the fact that Y/N's presumed dead husband was now running through the bar, flocked by Sam and Zemo, and into the alley behind the bar.

When Bucky was sure Zemo, Sam and Sharon were asleep, he slipped out of the safe house and into the night - determined to find out if the woman he saw in the bar was that of his (presumably? should be?) dead wife.

He eventually made his way to the front door of the bar, the bouncers had long since gone home. He could see lights on in the building and just about make out words being spoken thanks to the Super Soldier serum running through his veins.

He grasped the handle and gave it a push, the door hadn't been locked, as it gave beneath the slight push.

He could see three young women sitting on the bar, a man who was counting the money from the register and another man who was dancing.

The young woman sitting closest to the bar, had golden curls hanging around her head. "Mark, you didn't lock the door!"

The man dancing, Mark, looked over at Bucky, eyes widening when he saw the size of Bucky. "I say we just serve him, then lock the door behind him."

As the bartenders and waitress argued amongst themselves, Bucky's eyes never left the woman in the middle. It looked as if she had been crying. "Babydoll?"

The woman stopped giggling, tipping her head back to normal and looked at him, before dropping her glass as tears welled up in her eyes. "James?"

The curly-haired woman gasped, setting her glass down and giving Y/N a push off the bar.

Bucky held his arms out to catch her as her feet landed on the floor. He couldn't stop looking at her big eyes, he'd always loved her big expressive eyes. He always knew how she was feeling by just a look in her eyes.

"James? Is that you?" Her hand came out slowly, and shakily, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her.

"Hi, babydoll," Bucky smiled, tears starting to fall down his cheeks, a heavy sob held tightly in his chest at the moment in time. As soon as her fingers met his skin, Bucky let out a heavy sigh of relief, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. Y/N's arms dug themselves away from his chest and up around his neck before her hand soon started fiddling with his hair.

The couple stood there for a moment, finally finding their slice of peace. Some came barging into the bar, and the dark-haired woman who had been sitting on the other side of Y/N practically demanded Mark lock the door before the Hounds of Baskerville came in.

Y/N was so happy to finally have her James back in her arms, but there was a whirling sound she couldn't let go. "What's that noise?"

Bucky looked from his wife to his arm and back to his bride. "I'll explain everything to you later, but... I lost my arm, and I now have a prosthetic one," he tells her, letting go of her for a moment so he could take his glove off and show her the black and gold Vibranium one he had made.

"Ok, James. It's a good thing you gave me this," she reached beneath her top and pulled a ring out from beneath, hanging from a chain. "Before you were deployed."

Bucky smiled, cupping her face so he could kiss her. Bucky pulled away chuckling a little. "Babydoll, will you please put my ring back on?"

She reached behind her to unclasp the chain, and slid Bucky's band off, "if it doesn't fit we'll get it resized."

"I don't care what size it is, as long as you put my ring back where it belongs," Bucky almost growled, a piece of him falling back into place with the ring back on his finger.

The next morning - Sam, Zemo and Sharon came into the living room, seeing Bucky sleeping on the sofa (Sam was expecting this, after being told by Steve), however, there was a lump lying next to Bucky they didn't recognise.

Sam slowly makes his way over, gently easing down the thick blanket lying over Bucky and the lump.

Lying there, practically on top of the 'bionic staring machine' was a young woman.

"Did he somehow pick up a girl?" Sam whispered. Sam and Sharon were trying to be quiet - however, Zemo (who didn't care) started clattering around the kitchen, causing Bucky to wake up in a start, which then caused the young woman to look up with tired owl-like eyes.

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.

Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"

Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."

#bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #sam wilson #sharon carter #baron zemo #takes place in the falcon and the winter soldier #this had been going around in my head for DAYS!!! #1k #2k

[bookshelf-dust]

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?” 

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make. 

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes. 

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table. 

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around. 

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.” 

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment. 

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down. 

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro. 

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money. 

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way. 

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are. 

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?” 

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy. 

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up. 

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch. 

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment. 

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge. 

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.” 

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her. 

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say. 

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is. 

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice. 

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation. 

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek. 

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it. 

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together. 

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale. 

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win. 

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door. 

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do. 

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do. 

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger. 

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side. 

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him. 

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him. 

“Besides what?” 

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself. 

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless. 

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again. 

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it. 

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there. 

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims. 

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom. 

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…” 

You and Billy. 

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room. 

Sharing a bed. 

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall. 

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything. 

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them. 

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh. 

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that. 

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you. 

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether. 

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him. 

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win. 

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back. 

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby. 

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”. 

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.” 

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips. 

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind. 

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them. 

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one. 

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.” 

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out. 

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card. 

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger. 

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can. 

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask. 

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.” 

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass. 

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder. 

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions. 

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either. 

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing. 

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way. 

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in. 

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you. 

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own. 

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this. 

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side. 

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined. 

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?” 

“Yeah.” 

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?” 

“Yes.” 

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before. 

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him. 

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.” 

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck. 

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break. 

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous. 

It’s just me. 

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean. 

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed. 

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them. 

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop. 

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look. 

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in. 

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on. 

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction. 

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble. 

“Sleep okay?” she asks. 

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.” 

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up. 

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet. 

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says. 

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.” 

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.” 

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being. 

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water. 

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down. 

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool. 

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water. 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you. 

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does. 

“Okay.” 

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do. 

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.” 

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see. 

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say. 

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water. 

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with. 

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest. 

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child. 

“You motherfucker!” 

You get him back, and he’s laughing. 

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder. 

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water. 

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating. 

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so. 

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it. 

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them. 

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks. 

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat. 

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy. 

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this. 

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.” 

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again. 

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content. 

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up. 

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before. 

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro. 

You’re healing him. You. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#savannah’s fics #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x gn!reader #billy hargrove x gender neutral reader #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #max mayfield #steve harrington #robin buckley #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #will byers #billy stranger things fic #billy stranger things #bookshelf-dust’s 1k celebration

[anisrightarm]

Cregan Stark NSFW Alphabet

NSFW topics ahead don’t read if you’re not comfortable!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Cleans you up with a rag and warm water while telling how perfect you are for him

Knows you get cold in the north so he always has extra fur blankets to wrap you in

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For him he likes his eyes, knows you go wild for eye contact and you always compliment his eyes

On you he likes your stomach and hips, most northern girls he’s bedded have been rather skinny he loves the feeling of your stomach under his hands

LOVES your hips boy is grabbing them while pounding into you or caressing them while making love

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He will cum in you if you’re comfortable with it he goes feral for that shit

If not he loves cumming on your back or stomach something about you being dirty with his seed makes his brain short wire

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Would love to fuck you in the great hall alone obviously

Just the thought while he’s at some important meeting he just has to look at the table to remember what you two did whilst everyone is oblivious

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He has 10 kids.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything where he can see your face

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Cregan lets you set the mood but if it’s after a battle or hunt it’s all business

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s well shaven he likes to keep it neat and manageable

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s romantic he wants everything to be perfect for you he will definitely start a nice fire for you

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t necessarily like or need to jerk he has you

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink goes brr

Wants you to have his kids so bad he will whisper in your ear during sex telling you how good you would look pregnant

Praise giving and receiving he likes to know he’s making you feel good

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your chambers obviously he loves going to bed knowing you have had sex on the bed

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Imagining you pregnant

Seeing you with Kids (more specifically Rickon)

He loves to see you all dressed up for important events

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Will never do anything without your consent

Will never lay his hands on you

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

LIVES for eating you out it’s his favorite meal

Won’t deny head but won’t demand it he prefers giving

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Once again it’s mostly up to you and your preference but I like to think he goes deep you know quality over quantity

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Only likes quickies if he has absolutely no time

He likes to take his time to make his lady feel good

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Will never do something with you not being comfortable so kind of if your down, so is he

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last atleast 3-4

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I can’t imagine him using them on you, he prefers to please you himself

Doesn’t mind if you use them by yourself, he’s a lord after all he’s busy

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can tease and will but hates making you wait

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not very loud but he will grunt and moan in your ear

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Cregan was so touch starved before you got betrothed so when you held him the first night you made love he cried but always denies it

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Oh yeah he’s big you know what they say about northern men😏😏

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

This man is down literally 24/7

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Cregan makes sure you are comfortable and okay before anything then it’s fair game you both knock out

A/n: My first NSFW alphabet!!! Give me feedback how did I do?? Who next??

#cregan stark x reader #cregan stark smut #hotd x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark x you #hotd smut

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Dealing hearts || Billy the Kid x reader

Summary: Interrupting a poker game to join Jesse, you catch the attention of Billy. As the night unfolds it becomes an unexpected night of connection and shared vulnerability.

Warnings: fem!reader, Jesse Evans x reader for abit,

Wc: 1,025

A/n: begging for more Billy the kid requests 😭🙏

Divider by @pommecita

The smoky haze hung thick in the air as you pushed open the swinging doors of the bustling saloon. The lively chatter of the patrons and the clinking of glasses filled the room, creating a backdrop to the intense game of poker that had captivated the attention of everyone in the establishment. Your eyes scanned the crowded room until they settled on a familiar figure at the poker table.

Jesse, was deep in concentration, his eyes fixed on the cards in his hands. The murmurs of the crowd ceases for a moment as you made your entrance. Some heads turned, and the locals greeted you with nods and smiles as you sauntered confidently through the room, your presence commanding attention.

Ignoring the curious glances, you made your way to Jesse, who looked up from his cards and grinned when he saw you approaching. As you reached the table, you didn't bother to glance at his opponent, instead opting to slide onto Jesse's lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Hey, handsome," you whispered in Jesse's ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He chuckled, clearly pleased with your unexpected arrival.

He lifted his hat from his head, a gesture that spoke volumes in the silent language of the West. The whispers started immediately, reverberating through the crowded saloon. The hat passed from Jesse's hand to yours, and as it settled on her head, slightly lopsided, the room buzzed with whispers.

"Look who decided to join the party," Jesses said, squeezing you gently. "Folks, meet the most beautiful distraction a man could ask for." He announces as you shyly smile, adjusting Jesse's hat on your head.

Laughter erupted from the onlookers, but Jesse's focus remained on the cards. Your attention, however, was drawn to the man sitting across from him. His eyes met yours, and you felt a jolt of recognition. Billy the Kid.

Jesse often spoke with a mix of admiration and rivalry of the legendary outlaw, a man with a reputation as wild as the West itself. Billy's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than it should have, and you couldn't help but notice the slight twitch in his confident façade.

You offered him a playful smile, seemingly innocent, but your mind was already racing with the realisation of who was sitting across from you.

As the poker game continued, you watched the cards being dealt and the bets being raised. Jesse's skill was evident, and it wasn't long before the tension in the room reached its peak. Billy, usually unflinching, seemed oddly off-balance. He stole glances in your direction, clearly finding it difficult to concentrate on the game on hand.

Jesse, noticing Billy's distraction, smirks, "Havin' trouble keepin' focus, Billy?" Billy grumbles, "Just play your damn hand, Jesse," Jesse lets out a low whistle as a soft giggle leaves your pretty lips.

Finally, with a triumphant grin, Jesse revealed his winning hand. The crowd erupted into cheers, and you leaned in to kiss him on the lips. "Good job, babe," you said, and Jesse beamed with pride, throwing his head back letting the alcohol run down his throat.

Billy, on the other hand, pushed back from the table, his expression unreadable. He mumbled a half-hearted acknowledgement of the game and stood up, leaving with saloon without a word. You slid of Jesse's lap, your eyes following Billy as he disappeared into the night.

"Where you off to, doll?" Jesse drawled, "Just to talk to someone, I'll be back later," you whispered a quick goodbye to him, promising to catch up with him later, and slipped out of the saloon.

A feeling of curiosity and something else you couldn't quite place compelled you to follow him. The cool night air hit you as you made your way through the dimly lit streets, catching sight of Billy up ahead.

"Billy, wait up," you called after him, quickening your pace to catch him just as he reached the shadows of a nearby building. Billy turned to face you, his expression guarded but curious. "What do you want?" he asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.

You took a deep breath, choosing you words carefully. "Listen, Billy, Jesse and I- it's no what you probably think it is-" you began, but Billy interrupted you with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"I don't care 'bout your business with Jesse," he said, avoiding eye contact. "I've got my own troubles." Despite his tough exterior, you sensed a hint of vulnerability beneath the surface.

"Trouble like what?" you prodded gently. Billy hesitated, then sighed. "It's none of your business, sweetheart." You studied him for a moment, recognising the loneliness in his eyes.

"How long you've been travelling 'round by yourself Billy?" Your question catches him off-guard, "What?" "Everyone's got their demons," you remarked softly. "Maybe talkin' 'bout it could help."

For a moment, Billy looked at you as if considering your offer. Then, with a shrug, he turned away. "I ain't one for sharin' my trouble." You didn't give up. "Well, maybe I can be a distraction, like I was in there,"

Billy shot you a sidelong glance, his expression unreadable. "Doubt that." Undeterred, you took a step closer. "You seemed pretty distracted back there to me." Billy's gaze flickered, and for a moment, you saw a crack in his tough exterior. "What's it to you?" he muttered.

"Jesse send you over or somethin'?" You smiled, trying to break through his walls. "Maybe I just want to be sure everyone's havin' a good time tonight," He regarded you with a mixture of skepticism and something else you couldn't quite decipher. "You're a strange one."

You chuckled, "strange might be just what you need." Billy's lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he quickly masked it. "You're wasting your time, darlin'," he said, turning to lead the way down the quiet street.

As you followed him, the two of you walked in silence for a while. The dim glow of lanterns illuminated the path, casting shadows on the dusty ground. Finally, you reach a small, weathered house on the outskirts of town.

Billy pushed the door open, gesturing for you to enter. "I don't know why you're bothering with me," he said, his voice gruff. You stepped inside, the interior modest but tidy. "Sometimes people need a little company, that's all." Billy closed the door behind you, and you took in your surroundings.

The room was sparsely furnished, with a worn-out table and a couple of mismatched chairs. A single oil lamp flickered on a nearby shelf. "So, what's the story, Billy?" you asked, leaning against the table.

"I know there's more to you than just an infamous outlaw," a soft chuckle leaves your lips as he lips upturn briefly at your words. Billy sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"I've been on the run for so long, never stayin' in one place too long. Gets lonely, you know? And tonight, losing at poker and seeing you with Jesse, it remined me of what I don't 'ave."

You listened, empathy filling your eyes. "Maybe it's time for change," you suggested gently. "Not everyone's out to get you, and not every game has to be 'bout winning or losin'."

Billy scoffed, his eyes avoiding yours. "You sound like a preacher." You chuckled. "I’m not like the others who judge you for what you had to do" He finally met your gazez, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his eyes. "You're not what I expected."

"Expectations can be deceiving," you replied, moving closer to him. "Maybe it's time for a new start, a fresh one start,”

For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, contemplating your words. Then, with a resigned smile, he said, "I don't make promises, but maybe I could use a distraction."

You grinned, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "Then let's start with tonight. No expectations, no strings attached. Just two people enjoying each other's company."

#fanfiction #billy the kid x you #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid imagine #Billy the kid Tom blyth #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #tom blyth imagine #the hunger games #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tom blyth x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #tom blyth x you #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #william h. bonney #william bonney #kid antrim #the hunger games x reader #billy the kid #young coriolanus snow

[simon-sehs]

proud (18+) pt 2

tags / cw: f!reader, fluff, (bare bones) smut, praise kink, alcohol mention, happy ending, marriage mention, birth mention, baby mention

You should have expected it, really.

Even though you were pissed at him, Ghost was once again the protagonist of your wildest dreams.

And man, were they wild…

You woke hours later, around nighttime, pent up and horny. This time, you didn’t bother with the self relief. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of being in your mind, even if the cruel reality was just you leaving yourself out to dry.

With a sigh, you dug out the bottle of whiskey you had hidden in your dresser for a rainy day and made your way to the roof for drinking and contemplating. Maybe you weren’t cut out for the task force. Or… maybe Ghost was just a fucking prick who needed a good punch. Either way, you found yourself with no answers beneath the stars.

And then you heard the door to the roof open.

Fuck.

“You know you’re not supposed to be up here, soldier.”

You didn’t turn around to acknowledge him. “Sorry…” you said weakly. You felt pathetic, like a kicked mutt.

Ghost sighed and sat down next to you. You tensed. What the fuck was happening? And then he reached a hand out for your bottle. Well, it was fun while it lasted. But instead of confiscating it, he pulled up his mask, taking a long swig before setting it down. Fuck, his lips are so pretty.

“How did you know I was up here?” You asked.

“I came by your room and found it empty. Checked the CCTV footage and traced your steps.”

“…Oh.”

Silence settled over you two. Until…

He cleared his throat and sighed. “You were right. I'm sorry.”

“…Wait, what?” You asked, confused.

“Thing is… I am proud of you. It’s why I push you so hard... harder than I should. I don’t show it well.” He took another drink.

You sat there, dumbfounded. This wasn’t happening. Was he actually… apologizing?

He must have seen your face and sighed. “Look, I’m not heartless. I may not be the most caring lieutenant, but… I care.”

Your face softened. Okay, now he was… starting to make some sense. You wanted to stay mad at him, but your stupid little crush had you folding like a house of cards. Or maybe it was the alcohol. “You do, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your head, though. We’re not supposed to even be up here.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that.

“And I mean what I said. I’m proud of you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you.

You could feel wetness coating your underwear, still suffering from your earlier budding arousal. Oh, fuck.

You reached for the bottle of whiskey at the same time he did, fingers grazing against each other. You both pulled back instinctively. You met his gaze, and found yourself lacking for breath once more. His stare was intense, and it was… hungry. Wanting.

You couldn’t help but wonder if you were still dreaming, because the next moments were a blur. Your lips on his—or did he initiate it?—his hands cupping your jaw, while yours caressed his neck. You found yourself laying down there on the roof, as his lips worshipped your skin, his words appraising you…

“So fuckin’ beautiful, so strong… you don’t understand how proud you make us… me…”

You moaned and his eyes flickered to yours, the gears spinning in his mind. “You live for it, don’t you? The praise… begging for everyone to know just what a good girl you are…”

Oh, fuck.

“S-Simon…” You moaned, before a soft yelp left your lips due to the sensation of his big fingers against your folds.

He rubbed along the curvature, before pulling away and staring at his fingers. Even in the dark, and at this distance, you could see the light from the nearby flood-lamps shining off of the discharge on his fingers.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked.” He groaned.

You watched intently as he slowly sucked his fingers, before grabbing the whiskey and taking a swig to chase it down.

He made you come with his fingers. Then his tongue. And then like a dream come true, he was stuffing his dick into you.

“Fuuuck, that’s it baby… takin’ me so well… c’mon, let me in some more, love…”

His thumb stroked your clit, making you twitch and flutter around his cock as he pushed further in.

“Ahh, Jesus…” you moaned.

The bastard chuckled before leaning in to whisper. “I prefer Simon…”

If this was another of your wet dreams, you didn’t want to wake up. You found solace in the fact that a billion stars were bearing witness to this moment of you getting fucked lovingly. His face in your neck, his hands scrambling to grope every inch of your body…

No, this was much better than a dream.

You don’t hear the phrase again until years later. You’re in a hospital bed, body aching and swimming from medicinal drugs.

“I’m proud of you, love…”

You almost don’t hear them at first, too busy staring at the infant boy in your arms. After a second, you glanced up, meeting your husband’s brown eyes, so full of love and warmth… for your son… and for you.

[part one] [part two]

taglist: @the-pan-liquid

#simon riley #cod #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #THIS PACING IS SH*T SORRY #my writing

[ghost-bxrd]

I’ve been getting really into magical stuff recently and also DC so I’m just gonna drop this here:

Fae Dick Grayson

F A E

okay so fae stories are special to me because I grew up on hearing pagan folklore and fairytales about fae and fae adjacent creatures as good night stories so hooo boy yes I adore that trope! (I mean, I made Dick a Banshee in my fic Shuck so… hehe)

Anyway, Fae Dick Grayson! There’s just so many things you can do with it ✨

Robin appears from one day to the next, following in Batman’s shadow like a mischievous sprite, so honestly rumors have been going wild about him since day one. Robin actually being something non-human doesn’t really come as a surprise!

The fae folk are known for being awfully good at blending in with regular humans when they put their mind to it, the only thing that puts them apart (in most stories) is their otherworldly beauty, and Dick Grayson? Well, he’s definitely got that in abundance.

Just sometimes, when the light reflects off a surface in just the right way, when someone pours a glass of water and you happen to look right through the spray, or when you think you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye and you spin around— but there’s only Dick Grayson, even if a second ago you could have sworn you saw eyes where there weren’t supposed to be any; colors that aren’t supposed to exist; feathers where only skin has any right to be.

And, gods, all the talking. Dick is terrifyingly good at talking to people without actually saying anything, to the point where you walk away from the conversation feeling utterly drained after spilling your entire life story but when you think back on it— you can’t remember him ever telling you anything about himself. You know there were the usual pleasantries of “hi” and “nice to meet you” and “how are you doing?” but anything beyond that just kinda… seemed to spill out of you? It’s very strange. It’s very unnerving. By the end of the evening you other convince yourself you’re overreacting or you simply push the incident out of your mind altogether.

And there’s another thing about Dick. His name.

He only ever introduces himself as Dick Grayson/Robin. Never Richard. Never. Especially not Richard John. Names are sacred for the fae folk, names have power, so while Richard John Grayson may not be Dick’s true name, he treats it as such to honor his parents. None are allowed to use it. None except Bruce or Alfred on special occasion.

Of course, Dick’s “true” name isn’t exactly a secret so when someone does happen to use it… well, Dick may be… other… but he’s still intrinsically good in a way many of his kind don’t have the patience to be. Dick judges on a case by case basis, just like his parents and Bruce taught him. And usually people do not mean it maliciously when they use his name so he kindly corrects them and that’s that. But oh man, if they still insist on calling him “Richard”? Well..

“Oh no, it seems your credit card is being declined, sir!”

“Sheesh, you tripped over a root? In Gotham?!”

“What do you mean ten birds flew into your window last night? You live on floor level!”

“Dude I’m telling you that rash doesn’t look normal.”

“I… don’t think crows are supposed to follow you like that.”

It’s little things (most of the time, unless you really pissed Dick off) but they keep piling up, slowly driving you insane. You feel like you’re being watched, but it’s just a bird sitting on the window sill again. You feel like someone moved all your furniture just slightly to the right even tho you checked all the cameras.

The fae are kind, but they are also vindictive when crossed.

(Thanks to Bruce, however, I think Dick’s bouts of “vengeance” rarely go much farther than that though.)

Dang ok that ended up being an entire rant… wow. Anyway, yeah. Fae.

#look growing up in the middle of the woods just does something to you #my entire family told us tales about the creatures in the woods #looking back on it now a lot of them were fairly creepy #but my cousin and I always went looking for the one who ‘swayed the trees’ #there’s not a good translation for it but it sounds pretty cool in my language #and also slightly gruesome #double meaning and all that #then again our idea of fun was traipsing into the moors and finding ways through it without getting stuck so idk #wow ok that reads like a bit of a horror story but I swear it was great #anyway #ghost talks #fae dick Grayson #dick grayson #nightwing #Robin

[huramuna]

downpour - oneshot.

modern aegon ii targaryen x nanny reader minors dni, you will be smited.

this is for @targaryen-dynasty sleepover challenge 🤭 i got the babysitter au + the prompt 'why so shy?' i had so much fun with this, modern aegon is a menace and also a sopping wet cat.

word count: 4.5k

content: smutty smut smut (specifics under cut), aegon being a little shit (we love it), saltburn spoilers (lol), allusions to drug / alcohol abuse and rehabilitation, mullet aegon, jaehaera and jaehaerys are hel's kids but they have an unnamed / unrelated father, gratuitous use of song lyrics, probably a touch of power imbalance because of her job

murder on the dance floor - sophie ellis-bexter

warnings: oral (m receiving), face slapping w/ cock, degradation, dirty talk (this man never shuts up), face fucking / deepthroat, cum on face

“Jaehaerys! Jaehaera! Please don’t run in the house with muddy boots!” you called fervently, trying to collapse the umbrella with one hand, two teddy bears slung in the other. 

“We won’t!” they both called in unison, followed by the unmistakable sound of muddy galoshes squeaking over the marble floor. You suppressed the urge to groan as you entered the exquisite home through the french doors that led to the backyard. 

“Boots off, little ones!” you called again, kicking off your own shoes in a haste to catch the gremlins before they tracked grime all over madam Alicent’s home. You had been working at the Targaryen estate for the better part of a year as a live-in nanny for Lady Alicent’s two grandchildren– twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. It was a wonderful job for the most part, as the twins were a delight and you had grown to have a strong friendship with their mother, Helaena. She was a bit dreamy-eyed and wistful, but was a wonderful mother nonetheless, even if she did have her melancholic days. 

The estate was huge and ancient, passed down from generations through Helaena’s father’s side, which was apparently a near royal bloodline from days long foregone. Viserys Targaryen, the father in question, was hardly ever home. He managed the family business (whatever it may be, you didn’t find it in you to ask– all you knew is that they were dirty rich) with his other daughter, Rhaenyra, from his first marriage. He had four children with Alicent, Helaena being the only one of the brood to still live at home.

 You’d met two of the others as well; Aemond, a lawyer in the family business who was, in short, all business and no play. He never regarded you, really, besides a quick glance or stiff nod. He had, however, slipped you a eight-thousand dollar bonus at Christmas time with a simple card that read;

Thank you for taking care of the twins and my sister. And keeping my mother sane.

- A.T

The other sibling, Daeron, was the youngest of the bunch, visited usually during holidays, as he constantly was studying abroad. ‘Sowing his wild oats’, as Helaena had put it. He was cordial to you and very much had a boyish charm, and Helaena loved to joke that he had a crush on you. When he had come home for New Year’s, he brought you a souvenir from Iceland, an authentic lopapeysa sweater, made from wool and sewn with a beautiful geometric design. 

“Awh, Daeron wants you to stay warm, lovey,” Helaena teased. 

“I-It’s just– her hands are always so cold, a-and the wool is supposed to help keep warm! The inner layer is insulating.” Daeron had stammered, the tips of his ears growing red. 

“Uncle Daeron has a brush!” Jaehaera squeaked, her words whistling through her tooth gap, she’d lost her first baby tooth just the week before.

“A crush, he’s got a crush!” Jaehaerys corrected softly. 

Alicent thought the whole thing very amusing.

That left one child you hadn’t met. You didn’t know much about him aside from small bits of conversation you’d picked up on between the rest of the family. Aegon. The eldest of all of them, and apparently the troublemaker of the bunch. You knew what he looked like from the portraits– blonde hair like the rest but with severely more bags under his eyes. Upon entering the home, one would see the chronological order of family portraits. 

It starts with Viserys, Alicent, and baby Aegon; the latter of whom is happy and chubby and bubbly. 

Then, it moves to the three of them, plus baby Helaena, with her wide blue-eyed stare at the camera. Aegon is still happy.

The next one adds the addition of baby Aemond– there is a glint of sentience in Aegon’s eyes, but he hasn’t experienced the crushing blows of reality yet.

You weren’t exactly sure, but as he got older, he became more morose– more bags, less light in his eyes. Then came the ear piercings, the tattoos, the head shaving, the bloodshot in the whites of his eyes. The portraits ended with this past year’s Christmas photo. Aegon was noticeably missing from it. You’d heard during one of Alicent’s phone conversations with her father that Aegon was in rehabilitation for a myriad of issues, and looking at his photos, you could only guess which one was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

A particularly harsh clap of thunder broke you from your thoughts, coming back to yourself. You scooped up Jaehaera before she stepped on the carpet with the muddy shoes. “C’mon, let's get cleaned up for lunch, yeah? What do we want for lunch today, lovies?” 

“Grilled cheese n’ tomato soup.”

“No! I want mac n’ cheese.” 

The squabbling ensued, the twins arguing back and forth for a few moments before you butt in. “Alright, how about– whoever gets the floor the cleanest and puts their galoshes by the washroom the fastest gets to pick?” 

The twins squealed in delight as they absconded from your sight, effectively going to do your bidding for you. You would, however, just end up making both meals anyway. As you moved to the kitchen, the sound of the doorbell rang. You bustled to the door, not sure who to expect– there weren’t many roving visitors in and out of the estate unless Alicent was explicitly expecting company– which you had triple checked the calendar when you woke up that morning.

You opened the door, expecting to see a debutante or someone of Alicent’s social circle– ‘twas not the case. You recognized him immediately, seeing his mother’s face in his own. Aegon. He was muddy, dirt flecks splashed on his face as he stood under the stoop trying to get away from the pouring rain. His face was a bit healthier than you’d seen it, the dark circles were still there, but not as prominent. It was like a gloomy day, rather than a full blown storm under his eyes. He had the wisps of a beard starting on his jawline, and his hair was cut into a makeshift mullet, longer in the back.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, hands in his pockets. 

“Erm– the… the nanny. For the children.” you stammered, his tone catching you off guard. You glanced behind him, seeing a beat up dirt bike caked in mud– that was probably how he got here. 

“A nanny? You’re a bit young for that, yeah? My nanny’s were all wrinkly old prunes.” 

“Oh– uhm, come in, Mr. Targaryen.” 

He perked a brow at the name, but didn’t say anything. He beat the bottom of his boots on the doormat, which didn’t accomplish much. He immediately began to track mud on the floor. “Mum home? Hel?” 

“Lady Alicent is… upstairs,” you offered, following behind him at a quick pace. “Helaena is taking a nap– the storm–” 

“Yeah, I know ‘bout Hel’s issues with storms. Don’t need to tell me twice. So, you got a name, or are you just the nanny?” 

You gave him your name as you glanced at the clock– it was almost time for the children’s lunch and you hadn’t even put it on the stove yet! 

“Got any food around here? Fuckin’ famished.” he added then as he nosed around the kitchen, hands still in his pockets. 

“I’m just about to make lunch for the twins– uhm, I can make you something too if you’d like.” you walked past him, quickly putting some pots on the stove and starting the gas. You and the twins were on a strict schedule, and if they didn’t get their lunch on time, they would turn into hellions. 

“Sure. Whatever the kids are having. I’m not picky.” Aegon waved his hand behind his head as he disappeared from the kitchen and clomped up the stairs, likely to speak with his mother. You fretted for Alicent’s mental state once that was done, and you felt even guiltier for not giving her a heads up.

As the tomato soup heated on the stove and the water began to boil for the macaroni, you unlocked your phone– you were curious about Aegon and why he’d come back, exactly. Well, of course, besides the fact that he lived here (or did, at some point) he was still supposed to be in rehab for another three months. You went to instagram, rolling your eyes as you saw that his profile was on ‘suggested for you to follow!’ 

You clicked to his most recent photo, the first that he’d posted in over a year.

“Jesus christ,” you muttered under your breath as you put down your phone on the counter to stir the soup. 

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Aegon teased behind you. When the fuck had he gotten there? “Soup n’ mac and cheese?”

“Tomato soup and grilled cheese for Jaehaera, mac and cheese for Jaehaerys.” you responded plainly, trying not to notice that he was practically breathing down your neck. You glanced over as he leaned on the counter, where you had left your phone. Unlocked. Like an idiot. On his instagram page.

“Curious about me, are you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard enough about me from my mum.” 

“I don’t like to pry into Lady Alicent’s affairs–” 

“I wouldn’t consider myself an affair, more like a one time fling, eh?” Aegon snorted, grabbing your phone. It took every fiber of your being to not break all sense of decorum you held to snatch it back from him. “You’re not following me– let’s change that,” he mused, beginning to scroll through your page now. “Lots of pictures of the kids here– ooh, a trip to the seaside. There’s no pictures of you on here, eh? Only of… my family n’ other stupid shit, like the ocean.” 

“I’m a live-in nanny, sir,” you grit out, stirring the soup with more force than necessary. You consider yourself a patient person, and have become accustomed to how people in the Targaryen’s circle made their jabs. High society and filthy rich people had their own language of insults– ones that you wouldn’t realize they were insulting you until much, much later. It was like a game with a slow burning poison. But Aegon, apparently, was different. There was nothing meticulous about his jabs, no filter, no slow burning poison. It was all punch and sting, like a bite from a rabid dog rather than a viper. “I usually attend family trips.”

“Live-in, huh?” he drawled, his arm leaning over the counter in such a laissez-faire manner that you could feel yourself scowling. “Don’t get much action then, I take it? Let’s see if there’s any nudie judies on here, then…” 

“N-no!” you broke then, all sense of manners flying out of your body as you struggled to take back your phone.

“Why so shy? Got something on here you don’t want me to see?” he staved you off, a hand planted firmly on your shoulder as he scrolled through your photos, making all sorts of gaudy faces. You didn’t really have anything overtly scandalous, maybe a few lingerie shots for an old boyfriend.

“Aegon, leave her alone. Give her back her phone.” Alicent’s voice cut through the room like a knife, stunning both of you.

He sheepishly gave you back your phone as she crooked a finger to her son, ushering him to a room on the farther side of the house. 

As you fed the twins their lunch, you overheard some yelling, arguing and heated voices. You only saw Aegon later when going to your room to get ready for bed. His eyes were teary and red. 

— 

The next few weeks went by with some normalcy— everything was as usual, except it was like you had a third child to care for; Aegon. Except this child didn’t listen at all and had terrible habits. He was constantly flirting with you, but also would weave in jabs at the same time— you couldn’t quite tell if he even liked you or not. Not that it mattered, anyway.

You were sneaking in your own lunch one afternoon, eating scraps from the twin’s lunch while they napped— basically just the crust you cut off of the grilled cheese and the small bit of soup left in the pot. 

“You eat like a mouse.” Aegon said, always managing to be there to annoy you. 

“Too much food makes me tired— I won’t be able to keep up with them if I’m sluggish.” 

“Could always drink a red bull or a monster, instead.” he offered, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it in the kitchen. 

“You shouldn’t do that inside. It’s bad for the children’s lungs. Lady Alicent says—,” 

“Well, it’s my fuckin’ house too, innit? I can smoke in here if I well and bloody like,” he growled, exhaling a puff of smoke into your face. “My mum must be paying you extra to be my nanny too, then? The way you’re up my ass all the time.” he flicked ash in your direction. 

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest. He was goading you, baiting you into a reaction. He was being insufferable on purpose. You could tell by his pearly white smile he currently had plastered to his face, like a smug little— 

“Never had a nanny so pretty, though,” he continued. “If I asked real nice, would you feed me soup? Dress me up? Give me a bath if I’m real dirty?” he got closer and you could smell him— the smell of marlboro reds and cheap aftershave that had become synonymous with Aegon blew out your senses until it was all consuming.

Your mouth parted as you tried to think of some witty response, some barb, some jab— but nothing came out. You just huffed and turned away from him in an attempt to hide your red cheeks. Why were you blushing? 

You could practically hear the cockiness ooze from him, his mouth perked into a cheeky smile as he stole one of the crusts. He knew he’d gotten to you. 

—

It’d now been over a month since Aegon moved back home and the building tension between you two hadn’t let up a bit— you constantly felt trapped and elated all at once. When you saw him, your chest fluttered slightly in anxiety and anticipation. What was wrong with you? 

It was a dark, gloomy day. The seasonal storms were in full swing, pelting the estate in rain and hail. Alicent, Helaena, and the twins were out on an escapade to Alicent’s father’s house— you guessed Aegon hadn’t gone. But, it was a huge house, so surely you could enjoy some of your time off without seeing him? 

A rumble of thunder shook the house, rattling its constitution— and then the lights flickered. Flickered… flickered… then… out. It was dark, then, even with your window shades open. You turned on your phone flashlight and tiptoed out of your room, going to see if perhaps you could smack the backup generator into working. 

You hadn’t expected to work today, nor see anyone, as Alicent had given you the day off. So, you were subsequently dressed in your pajamas— a hilariously oversized Bass Pro Shop shirt (a gift from your dad in America) and cat-patterned sleeping shorts. Your toes cracked and creeped on the floorboards with each movement, and to your chagrin, as you passed Aegon’s door, it opened. He was wearing a shirt that said “MILF: Man I love Fishing”, with just his boxer briefs on, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. 

“Oh. You’re still here.” 

“Yes?” 

“Sorry, thought you were gone with the rest. Sad, I can’t do the Saltburn thing now.” 

“The… what?” 

“The Saltburn thing? Dance around the empty mansion to myself with my cock out.” 

“What.” you responded with the most deadpan tone.

“Dance… with my cock out?” he repeated.

“No– I know what you said– but why?” 

“Why not?” 

You rolled your eyes, shifting the conversation. “So, the power is out– uhm, do you know where the backup generator is?” 

“In the wine cellar. Nifty, huh?” 

“... the… wine cellar. I can’t say I’ve been down there yet.”

“I know it like the back of my hand, c’mon then. I’m sure I can kick the old gen in the nads and get it to work.” Aegon said with surprising confidence, turning on his phone’s flashlight and half blinding you. 

You followed behind him, to which he hummed ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ while doing a half-assed dance, apparently from some movie that was definitely something you hadn’t watched– you don’t remember the last time you watched a movie that wasn’t geared towards the twins. 

“So basically… he had the whole mansion to himself, and then he dances through it with his cock out, hanging massive brain, y’know? It's murder on the dance floor, you better not kill the groove,” he imitates the dance, sprawling his arms out in the doorway to the wine cellar and shaking his bottom a bit, which was, admittedly, nicely fit in his snug boxer briefs. You felt a strange heat flush to your cheeks.

“And this… is a… what? Comedy?” 

“Well, categorically no– I’m not a film aficionado. I guess it could be considered a psychological thriller, but I thought it was pretty funny,” he stopped before continuing into the cellar. “It gets pretty hairy in here, so stick close, okay? Ever seen The Conjuring?” 

“... yes, actually. Horror movies are kind of my favorite.” 

“Ah, a girl after my own heart,” he mused. “Well, think of the basement in that movie, but instead of a bunch of old useless shit, it’s a bunch of old wine.”

“And… instead of ghosts?” 

“Oh, there’s definitely ghosts.” 

“... what.” 

“Yeah, estate is haunted. You haven’t noticed?” 

“Shut up.” you murmured. You were a huge fan of horror movies while simultaneously being a huge chicken shit when it came to scary things– you were prone to hiding your face before the big jumpscare or running up the stairs from the kitchen when it was dark, just in case something was chasing you– and your feet had to be covered by the blanket at all times when sleeping.

“Aww, you scared?” Aegon teased, turning to you.

“I mean– ghosts are scary. Of course!” you offered sheepishly, pulling up the collar of your oversized shirt to cover your nose and mouth in an almost hiding manner– a nervous habit of yours. 

“I’ll keep you safe, love, no worries about that.” 

“... that’s what they always say, right? Then they totally leave behind their girlfriends to get stabbed by the killer or… eaten by the monster.”

“You my girlfriend now?” he asked, that stupidly annoying and somehow charming smug energy exuding off of him in waves. 

“Shut up.” you grumbled as you both approached the generator. It was covered in dust and hadn’t been touched or tended to in a long time, it looked like. “Do… you know what you’re doing?” you asked Aegon tentatively, watching as he inspected it.

“Me? Oh, fuck no. I never know what I’m doing, honestly,” he shrugged, giving the metal box a kick and haphazardly pressing some buttons. “No dice, sweetheart. ‘Spose you’ll have to dance in the dark with me for a bit longer, huh? But, if there's a ghost, you'll be... ghost food, or whatever.” 

You pinched your brow in annoyance. “I don’t understand you.” 

“What’s there to understand? I’m a pretty open book, you know.”

“No– you aren’t. You flirt with me but also… insult me? I don’t get it.”

“It’s called teasing– picking? Picking on? Getting the goat?” 

“What? So, like a little boy pulling a girl’s pigtails on the playground because he likes her? That makes absolutely no sense, Aegon.” 

“If you spend your time trying to find a reason for it, you’ll go insane. Why not just enjoy the point of it? I like you.” he breathed, suddenly very close to you. He set his phone aside on top of the generator, flashlight up. It illuminated the walls of wine and cast shadows of cobwebs and dust all around the both of you.

“What?” 

“Are you deaf– I. Like. You.” he repeated, his knees bumping yours as you were practically glued together, your back now against the ancient stone wall.

Your lips parted as you inhaled a breath– okay, you weren’t exactly expecting him to say that, or even like you at all– you figured the flirting was all hot air, a defense mechanism, something for fun, not… real. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you became all too aware of the fact that you hadn’t been touched since you got this job, maybe even before that– and your previous boyfriends never made you feel… flustered like this. You couldn’t form words as he, uncharacteristically cautiously, put his hand on your cheek. He was so close, so close– his body heat mingled with your inherent coldness and warmed you instantly. You weren’t sure what came over you, but you leaned forward, slotting your lips against his. What the actual fuck were you doing– you were kissing your boss’ son, her notoriously bad mannered, foul mouthed, sloven slob of a son, and you liked it. Your hand instantly went to the back of his head, fingers grazing through his choppy curls– even giving them an experimental tug, which he seemed to enjoy, by the indication of something poking you in your thigh. 

His lips moved against yours like a dance, and you couldn’t get the fucking song he was singing earlier out of your head– It’s murder on the dancefloor– you grasped at his hip, it was fleshy and pleasant, the tips of your finger slipping under the elastic of his briefs– But you better not kill the groove– his hands were exploring, too, under your stupid Bass Pro shop shirt, groping at your breasts with reckless abandon – If you think you're getting away, I will prove you wrong – the heat rose in your body until you couldn’t take it any longer, the two of you were practically eating each other alive in this dank, dusty cellar and it was undoubtedly the hottest experience of your life – I'll take you all the way, boy, just come along – your lips parted for a moment, still connected by a string of saliva, bridging the gap between the two of you – Hear me when I say, hey –

“On your knees for me, love?” he asked, his voice suddenly so deep and husky, his thumb skimming over your collarbone. 

You fell to your knees for him so quickly– how pathetic. He wriggled down his briefs, already leaking at the fat tip of his cock. He wasn’t overly long, but he was girthy, like a beer can. Your eyes widened, which he must’ve noticed, as his face was plastered with a shit-eating grin. Your mind immediately went to an image of a so-called ‘American delicacy’ (your father’s words, not yours) called Beer can chicken, in which a can of beer is shoved in the ass end of a chicken and grilled. It is apparently as delicious as it is horrifying. Your throat bobbed as you surveyed it, a tentative hand around the base. He shook his head, prying your hand from him.

“Nope, mouth only. Open up, be a good girl.” Aegon muttered, looking down at you, the light of his phone flashlight illuminating him from below– he looked like a God. Or maybe a devil. 

Your mouth parted as his hand guided you forward. You wholly expected him to nestle in your mouth, but he surprised you with a slap to your face with his cock. It didn’t hurt, just caused you to yelp in surprise. He smeared some of the pre-come across your cheek, then slapped the head of his length on your waiting tongue. It was somewhat degrading, what he was doing– but it lit a goddamn fire under your ass, the neurons of depravity in your body, wherever they may lie, were alight with each nasty little gesture Aegon gave you, before he finally slid home. It stretched out your mouth, prodding at the back of your throat. 

“What would everyone else think, hm? If they knew you were such a fuckin’ slut.” he growled, gathering your hair in his fist like it owed him money, beginning to fuck himself into your mouth, careful to pay attention to your body language to make sure he wasn’t working you over too much. He made sure to be extra careful with his toys, rather than break them.

Tears welled, spilling down your face as you let him use you, degrade you– and yet, he also praised you.

“–such a good girl for me–”

“–you can take a little more, there you go–”

“–prettiest throat I’ve ever fucked–”

You felt like you were on fire, set ablaze by arousal you’d never experienced before– was this what they sang songs about? Dirty, borderline pornographic songs but the point still stood.

You had to chalk it up to the barometric pressure of the storm, right? Aegon wasn’t your type— your type was… well-adjusted, non-addicts, non-bad boy, non-troublemakers. Aegon was the antithesis of what you were into. 

And yet— you were into him. You were into him in a pathetic, pitiful way. It made you cringe to think about but you couldn’t resist his puppy dog eyes, nor could you forget the way he was whimpering— fucking whimpering! You squeezed your thighs together slightly at the sound of it, at the blurry-eyed, teary sight of him looking down at you on your knees, eyes half lidded. 

He pulled out with a particularly throaty grunt, painting your face in his unnaturally warm seed, somehow careful enough not to get it in your eyes– small mercies. Your lungs inflated with oxygen once more as you caught your breath, trying to gather yourself. You felt the swathe of cloth over your face as Aegon cleaned you up with his ‘MILF: Man I Love Fishing’ shirt, which he had apparently taken off. 

“You good?”

You nodded slowly as he helped you to your feet, brushing off your knees with the clean part of his shirt. 

“Um– so,” he still held onto you, as if he was afraid you’d run away. “Do you want to watch a movie with me later, when the power is back on? Like, actually watch it– I won’t fuck your face, I promise.” 

“... are you asking me on a date?”

“Umm… yeah. I think.”

“Maybe we could watch Saltburn?” you offered with a shrug.

–

“Your mum texted me,” you whispered. “The bridge is temporarily washed out from the storm, they won’t be back ‘til tomorrow.”

“Do you know what that means?” Aegon said, suddenly giddy. You both had just finished watching Saltburn, and you finally understood what the ‘Saltburn thing’ was. 

“You know your mum has like ten security cameras set up around the house, right?” 

“Okay… and?”

“I’m not dancing naked in the hallway, Aegon.” 

“How about just in my room? Please?” 

You gave a sigh, beginning to take your clothes off.

“Siri, play ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor.”

‘Okay. Now playing ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ by Sophie Ellis-Bextor, as featured in Saltburn.’

It's murder on the dancefloor!

But you better not kill the groove, hey-hey, hey-hey!

It's murder on the dancefloor.

But you better not steal the moves.

DJ, gonna burn this goddamn house right down.

#aemondtarqaryenssleepover #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x you #aegon ii fic #downpour #modern aegon ii #modern aegon ii x reader

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

i did it for winx i did it for powerpuff girls anyway here’s my pitch for a good “modern” scooby doo remake

shaggy comes from a family of paranormal investigators. at barely 16 years olds he returns to his hometown of coolsville with his dog after his super rich parents tell him it’s time to live up to the family name, taking him there specifically because of many rumors about cursed areas of the town and crmiinals who take advantage of said rumors to pretend to be monsters themselves. while there he reconnects with his old childhood friends and eventually all together they form the mystery inc... and have to deal with a benevolent yet very clumsy spirit who took over scoob’s body

character thoughts under read more!!!

shaggy is, again, the last of a family of paranormal investigators, who ever since he was a child had to deal with his parents bringing him in adventures and dealing with (real and fake) monsters. you’d guess that would make him brave, but. no that just made him very paranoid. while he acts like the team’s straightman, he’s also the only one who knows how certain monsters work, ironically working as one of the “brains” of the group!

scooby, again, used to be a normal great dane. a little lazy, not even particularly friendly, at least until shaggy brought him with him in coolsville; during their first night out. while he ends up falling into a trap, a benevolent ghost takes over his body, making him able to talk and tell the kids that coolsville is in big trouble and that they need to stick together. overall, he’s the team’s mascot, someone who’s directly connected with the main antagonist similarly to the mystery inc series, but also a goofy spirit (and now dog) who’s appreciating life!!

velma is a seemingly distant and cold nerd, but also the first one who joins shaggy in his adventures after she learns that all the curses and mysteries of her town might be real. her knowledge and ability to think on the fly comes from her being a dnd player and, most importantly, a dungeon master, and out of everyone she’s by far the bravest member of the team.  while a little snarky and with a lot of problems with social cues, she’s a smart and quick thinking young lady who’s happy to be part of a real adventure. and also has a girlfriend who may or may not be yet another monster since her being into criminals and monstergirls is a recurring trend now

daphne is part of the popular girls in school, but since we hate stereotypes she also has a reason to be popular other than “she’s pretty XD”. tiktok influencer and vlogger, she joins shaggy and velma almost by accident uhhhh i’d say 3 or 4 episodes into the series, maybe trying to start off a paranormal youtube channel, and eventually gets very close to them. the assigned people person, she knows everything about everyone in town and is generally very charismatic, but make her angry and she’ll make sure that you will remember with who you’re messing with.

fred, daphne’s boyfriend, is a member of the football’s team and the mayor’s son... and for “half” of the first season, he unknowingly acts as a minor antagonist, since i’d say. down with the politicians, the mayor is one of the bad guys, and with fred being a total himbo he accidentally works as his spy. eventually he finally understands that something is up with his dad, especially thanks to daphne who reminds him who truly cares for him, and eventually shaggy and velma too, with who he shares good memories of pretending to be detectives together and watching “that one weird show with the talking dogs and the kids looking for ghosts... goober or something!” he finally becomes the team’s wild card, the brawn and. yea i’d bring back his love for traps and elaborate schemes. he and velma become super besties after she tells him about her latest dungeon in her session

#scooby doo #velma #velma dinkley #daphne blake #shaggy rogers #scoobs #fred jones #my drawing #colored stuff

[thewriterg]

♡︎nsfw alphabet♡︎

Pairing(s): Miles Morales x Fem!reader,

Summary: Miles Morales Nswf abc’s —flufftober day; 11—

Warning(s): Language, Kinks, college au, and all around NSFW lmao

A/n: —GIF’s aren’t mine— I’m feeling lazy today so *shrug

Aftercare

Miles 100% would want to clean you up even if you made him do all the work in his opinion his Miss deserves the best

(You Also better do your part 🤨)

Body Part

Miles favorite body part of yours is most definitely your hands the way you hold him and when you run them through his hair *chefs kiss

Miles favorite body part of himself will probably be his height like he likes how taller he is then you but you can still bring him to his knees yk?

Cum

He likes to cum inside you he starts going nuts as soon as you clench around him he’s also not against your mouth but kiss him and make him taste himself immediately he’s in love.

Dirty Secret

Just like the rest of the bug boys he wants you to use his own webs against him to tie him up lol

Experience

Probably Gwen and maybe like two other random frat party hook ups

Favorite position

Reverse cowgirl he likes to watch’s your boobs bounce up and down he also wants to see your face so missionary comes 2nd

Goofy

It honestly depends, if you’re letting off some steam or honestly want a intimate serious moment then he can be serious other than that he ready to here 101 sex jokes

Hair

He keeps himself trimmed doesn’t care about yours though he enjoys clear land or carpet :)

Intimacy

Miles is very intimate he could be naive in lots of thing but when your in the mood he catches on pretty fast and enjoys you while he can before you take over

Jack Off

He doesn’t really sees a reason to he has you and no one’s touches him better than you not even himself congratulations y/n he’s hooked

Kink

Praise.

Do I even need to elaborate?

Location

Boobs.

Motivation

When you wear skirts or tighter clothes that shows off your figure he looses his fucking shit and will shamelessly stare at you

No

Hard kinks like bodily fluids and pain not against love taps though

Oral

Miles loves rimming he loves rimming you and he loves when you rim him, he also loves some good bj’s and fingering

Place

Privacy.

Miles does not have any beef with Mr. Good ol’ bed room feeling fancy and need a change is scenery… shower

Quickie

Absolutely.

Miles his a college student he lives off of quickies

Risk

Not a big fan of the thought of being caught it just not something he’s particular or as static about

Sext

Once again college. student.

Miles knows his fair way around dirty talk and sexting and his more confident than In person

Toys

Miles understands that Toys aren’t the enemy they are friends to help but he doesn’t use them quite often

Unfair

You make up to 96% of teasing in your relationship

The other 4%; Miles Tipsy, Miles sleepy, Miles just being miles and rubbing

Volume

Very vocal.

Moans, whines, groans, mewls, you will hear everything

Wild Card

Once Miles were eating you out and was sure he begin to loose consciousness and of course you felt the limpness of his head

You will always be hesitant to face ride after that

X ray

6.5 to 7 inches

Spider genes

Yes

Mark. him. up.

Hickeys, harsh kissing marks, scratches on his back

He will indeed keep coming back to to remark him because he heals so fast

You two are fucking rabbits

Zzz

Unless Miles has had a particularly rough day he always waits for you to go to sleep first drawing shapes on your hip, tangles legs, head scratches, etc.

#miles molares #miles morales x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spider man x you #spider man x y/n #avengers x reader #avengers x you #fluff #smut #romance #kinktober #flufftober #fall 2022 #fem!reader #i love you #thewriterg

[distressedjellyfish]

Things I think about with frequency

Amy March

How we deserved to see Amy and Laurie's wedding, and them falling in love, and just more of them

How Amy March is hated by many because LMA based the characters off her own sisters, and Amy was obviously written with some bias (as were all the sisters), which shines through and makes us feel similarly about Amy that "Jo" felt about her younger sister.

That line where Amy says "I've been second to Jo my whole life" hits A LOT harder when you realize that Louisa's (Jo) middle name is May, and her younger sister, who she based Amy off, is named May, after LMA's middle name.

I think that people see Amy as this vapid little bitch because she always knew she wanted to be a wife, and she knew she wanted to be rich. But what people fail to consider is that a lot of the time the youngest is the one that sees all the flaws in their family’s lives and feels responsible for taking care of them, even if its not expressly stated. Jo was a wild card. She was free to do as she wanted and nothing could stop her and God love Marmee for never trying. Meg was docile and almost polar opposite of Jo, and as the eldest sister she felt the same burden but lessened because yes she had typical Eldest Sister Syndrome where she had the need to take care of the family, but she also was the first, and therefore had no pre-set markers and expectations that she needed to meet or surpass. She wanted to marry and all that, but it didn't super matter about finances to her. Beth was unable to do "better" than her sisters "mistakes" flat out. And its not through any fault of her own, its just the way it was.

Speaking from experience, its always been clear to me that as the youngest of 3, I would have to do better. My half brother got a girl pregnant on his gap year when he was 18, so I was never allowed to take one, even though it would have probably helped in the long run. My half sister has always been mean to my parents, and won't let my dad see his only biological grandkid, which rips my dad apart, so of course I feel the pressure to have a child to give my dad a bio grandkid to dote on like he does with his non-bio grandkids, even though he's never outwardly expressed to anyone ever that he feels any disconnect from my niece because they aren't related, or that he wants me to have kids for any reason other than he wants them.

Anyways, my point is that Amy felt that pressure from a young age, hence always saying this or that about marrying rich. Add onto that when Aunt March tells her she's her family’s only hope of not being in the lower class/lower middle class for the rest of their lives. And just because that's the only time we see it, but that doesn't mean that there weren't other similar conversations had. Do you really think Aunt March never made her snide comments about the family and their status in front of Amy?

Amy's entire character revolves around this point, she's focused on being a proper lady, being delicate and pretty, in hopes of one day being able to bag someone rich, for her family.

Obviously, she falls into infatuation with Laurie when she meets him at the ripe age of 12??? She idolizes Jo, and Laurie is basically just the boy version (with some exceptions). He's also rich, young, handsome, and charming, and adores the family for who they are, including all their flaws. He's exactly what Amy had been saying she would marry, with the added bonus of him loving Jo the way she is, the exact opposite of Amy, proving that there are rich lovely men out there who will love you even if you aren't perfect, even if you falter. He's proof she can have the life she knows she needs to have for her family, and also still enjoy it and not be stressed all the time about being perfect.

Of course Laurie loves Jo first, for very similar reasons that Amy is infatuated with him. At 15, his whole life has been spent at dinner parties with girls the exact opposite of Jo, all proper and lovely and so so similar to one another, being told he'll marry one of them, everyone expecting him to be polished and well spoken and everything that no 15 year old boy wants to be. So then in comes this whirlwind girl who is completely different, a breath of fresh air that never wants to marry and can't ballroom dance for shit and laughs too loud, and shows him that life can be the Something Different he so desperately craves.

And of course, he ends up with Amy. He was Jo's best friend, so for 6 years all he knew of her was the way she was presented through Jo's eyes. A bratty little girl, who was the same as the other vapid girls he knew, that wasn't worth a thought. And he never paid her any mind because he spent 6 years thinking Jo loved him back, so why would he think of other girls? Then, at 21, he is essentially dumped by the love of his life, and travels abroad to find who he is without her. He meets Amy again, the girl who was always happy to see him. Of course he's going to spend time with her, she's familiar enough to feel like home, but different enough from Jo that it doesn't hurt. And there's the added validation of her liking him, which sometimes you need after your heart has been ripped apart. Plus, she's the only one he really knows in Paris. So they spend time together, and in that time he learns that she's not at all the way he's seen her over the last 6 years. Where he always saw someone not very bright, with a dim personality, that didn't stand up for anything or really rock the boat unless seriously provoked, who would do anything for him, he now finds a strong, funny, kind, beautiful girl, who is very intelligent and has a deep understanding of how cruel the world is (maybe ((definitely)) moreso than her sister) and knows how to manipulate said world in such a way that she can come out close to on top, who cares about her family enough to put everything else aside in order to become the person they need her to be in order to support them, who would still do anything for him but will absolutely call him on his shit and put him in his place when necessary. And how could he not love that?

She's not all that much like Jo, sure, but she is so much more. And she deserves so much more than people calling her his second choice.

Also I think that its criminal that most people don't see that obviously Jo loved her family but she loved herself more. Her sense of duty was to herself, and finding the place that would make her happy. She was also kind of a brat? Things didn't go her way? Editor is a dick? Boy critisizes her writing? Tantrum.

Whereas Amy loved her family more than herself. She was willing to put aside her dreams in order to support her family, and growing up was very rarely bitter about it. She decided, on her own, that her family was her number one priority, and that regardless of the fact that she could be happier doing other things, she wanted to do what she could to provide for her family. She knew how the world treated women, and she learned how to take that, and general criticism, on the chin.

Personally, I think that Amy is a way better character, and I'll die on this hill

Amy March

#jo march #amy march #beth march #meg march #louisa may alcott #little women #books #booklr #bookblr #classic literature #literature #movies #little women movie #little women 2019 #hot take #laurie laurence #amy x laurie #the march sisters #my roman empire

[datura-tea]

okey dokey! i just finished the fallout show! some Thoughts under the read more

tl:dr, the (bethesda) fallout vibes were definitely there. i liked it as a show on its own merits but as a part of the series canon... i'm mad, and that anger is kind of overriding the little i liked about it. overall maybe 2.5/5 stars and im being generous

things i liked:

visually, it's stunning - i could see scenes already being made into gifsets - the color grading is pretty good; even in dark scenes i could see and understand what was happening

the sets are soooo good!! costume design was alright too

title cards were fun and cute

they did some interesting stuff with the cultures of both vault 33 and the brotherhood of steel

they used the sound effects from the games :)

i liked the wastelanders!!! big npc and random encounter energy. i kind of want a whole show of just them. for example i love the marketplace and settlement in filly; it feels very lived in

the background characters weren't just young thin able-bodied conventionally attractive white people :) there's so many elders, which i loved!! ma june and barv were cool. i love gruff old lesbians

lucy!!! she was already kind of weird and a little off-putting even in vault 33 ("what's your sperm count" as an opener to the husband she was just arranged married to is WILD) and i like that. she's sweet and bullheaded and surprisingly competent :)

maximus is kind of an ass, but is also a pathetic nerd and brotherhood dickrider who actually doesn't really know anything. kind of a girlfailure

the ghoul was pretty cool too!! i liked him, though more for his prewar story than the one he has post-apocalypse

lucy's brother norman kinda grew on me. "i lack enthusiasm for every job that i do here" so relateable. also short king <3

THE DENTIST THAT BUYS TEETH. never thought that would be a Thing but now that i think about it, it makes sense

the monsters that we have were cool!! wish there had been more of them

MATT BERRY IS IN THIS!! i just really like him so i got excited :))

maximus and lucy's "wanna have sex?" talk LMAO

vault 4's various mutations!!

those giant unwieldy fuckass duffel bags that brotherhood squires lug around hahahhahahaaha

vault 4 and its genetic experiments because its main conceit is that it was ruled by scientists who hybridized humans. it's exactly the right amount of fucked up i want in a vault

i like that the protagonists regularly get captured and eat shit

FRED ARMISEN IS ALSO HERE

haha hacking minigame :) also chatting via terminals (and im assuming pipboys?) is canon now

they're growing crops in the wasteland + bustling trade + livestock + pets yay

robobrain was cute

things i was just ok with:

dane, the they/them brotherhood of steel aspirant who was fucked over so maximus can get their spot as a squire LMAO what a waste of a potentially cool character

IT'S SO FUNNY that there's yodelling whenever the ghoul comes into the scene ????? WHY

fight scenes.... pretty good but someone definitely had the bloody mess perk (i don't do well with gore so ew yucky). also lots of [VATS NOISE]

pipboy was not used as much as i thought it would be

cousin stuff... i get it, i guess in a vault you'd have a lot of cousins and not a lot of choice, so some incest would probably happen

the ghoul being vault boy's inspiration?? not sure what to feel about that tbh

the casual dismemberments... and equally casual attaching of limbs... not even prosthetic limbs.....

the vaulties eating good healthy well-balanced meals. giving out caviar in the welcome basket. kinda 50/50 on it

the vault 31 - 32 - 33 subplot couldve been more fucked up

have brotherhood knights always been celibate or did i miss the memo

there are regular chickens and... deer? for some reason?

the ghoul's design. it's fine in action but mostly it's meh

the vault 4 cult for moldaver

vault 4 as a refuge for shady sands survivors. im mad about it but like. i get it

that guys "elixir" (some altered jet??) fixing everything about thaddeus' foot instantenously AND GIVING HIM HEALING POWERS???

things i did not like:

lucy's plot premise is very much fallout 3 redux

lucy and maximus as a ship is very meh and kind of forced and not compelling. go give us nothing!!!

wilzig's head as a macguffin that everyone is after... ehh kind of just okay as a plot device

also the ghoul randomly eating that other ghoul???

the squire who bullied maximus calls himself fat but he isn't fat?? not even chubby??? hello????? just got a soft face

water chip being fucked feels very fallout 3 also but they kind of dropped it?

they definitely named cooper howard after todd. as tribute probably, which he doesn't deserve

fiend = cannibal now?????

maximus recognizing vault 4 as a cult but not recognizing the brotherhood as one lol

vault tec evil capitalism vs hollywood communists storyline was kind of basic. and bland. and weak

the enclave could've been established + explored better

no geckos or any other west coast-specific monsters

showing me ncr ranger armor when the ncr is gone

ghouls have healing powers?? WITHOUT RADIATION??

things i hated hated hated:

the ghoul needing drugs to combat the Disease That Turns Ghouls Feral

feral ghouls being basically zombies :/

IN EPISODE FIVE. THEY REVEAL. THAT SHADY SANDS. WAS BOMBED. THE ENTIRE NCR. WAS BOMBED. IN 2277. THE YEAR OF THE FIRST BATTLE OF HOOVER DAM

BASICALLY RETCONNED FNV?? IM PUTTING MY EARS IN MY FINGERS AND GOING LA LA LAAAAA

VAULT-TEC DROPPED THE BOMBS ???? BIG MT + MR HOUSE BEING IN ON IT????

THE BIG STUPID FUCKING REVEAL IN EPISODE EIGHT?? THAT THE OVERSEER BOMBED SHADY SANDS BECAUSE HIS WIFE DIDN'T WANT TO GO HOME WITH HIM??? FUCK THAT???

the brotherhood being the main faction of the west coast now. booo!! booo!!!!

the fucking last shot of new vegas being a burnt out husk. probably foreshadowing that hank is going to house's body but. UGH I HATE IT

to summarize: it came out strong! and stumbled hard falling face fucking first at the finish line. i would have liked it a lot more if it did not shit on the west coast as much as it did. because what the FUCK. if it was set literally anywhere else and left the ncr alone i would have liked it more, because on its own, as a self-contained story, divorced from the rest of the fallout series canon, it's not bad!!! it's fun, there's some good bits, it has the ~vibes~ but - and this is a big but - i don't know what it's trying to say. it's all very surface level and the very vague themes i picked up on are not really reiterated in the plot

it's like... the bits that make it fallout are there. vaults. the brotherhood. ghouls. a dog named dogmeat. but there's something lacking. it's like your usual sci-fi post-apocalypse show with a fallout veneer. idk. i like it for what it is but also i hate it for what it's emblematic of. that's all

#fallout show #spoilers #fallout show spoilers #shh peri shhh #i liked it but also i didn't #hope that helps! #watch it but probably pirate it i think #anyway it's 5am im going to bed #im trying to be positive. it's not all bad. but it sucks

[444rockstargf]

courtesy to @kappasbbgirl

"an angel looking to get fucked hard." | jack thurlow

gods & monsters. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: the deep wounds of a fight have the chance to be healed by a good choice of attire.

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @angelsanarchy @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl@romanroyapoligist @oliviah-25@si1nful-symph0ny @auggiethecreator @vanlisbon@livingdead-reilly @imoonkiss @lankysimp @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss @wild-rose-35

female!reader x jack

word count: 1.9k

contents: jack being an asshole (only for a little), teasing, unprotected p in v, cunnilingus, fingering, implied aftercare

“i can’t believe you.” your voice was shaky and broke halfway as tears began streaming down your face. “on the one day of the year that should mean something to you, you spend it getting wasted at the bar!” jack rolled his eyes, his tongue glued to the corner of his mouth. “give me a fuckin’ break, angel. if i’d known you were going to throw a hissy fit over a goddamn anniversary, i wouldn’t have even come back!”

you hastily wiped your tears with the back of your hand, spinning around and storming up the stairs. “you can be a real dick, y’know that?” his eyes flickered with the rage that he desperately tried to suppress. he bolted up the stairs behind you, pinning you to the nearest wall as he stared daggers at you. you squirmed out of his grip, looking away from his gaze. “you’re the worst guy in the world…”

he grabbed you by your wrist, using his other hand to hold your jaw as he brought his face unsettlingly close to yours. “i’m a good person, you hear me you fucking brat? and i hope you don’t expect me to just take this bullshit from you.” he shoved you away from him with more force than intended. you looked at him, your eyes glazing with hurt and anger as he turned away from you. halfway down the stairs, he spoke once more. “i’m going out. don’t wait up for me and have dinner ready by the time i get back.”

he grabbed his coat and his car keys, walking out the door without another word and slamming it shut behind him. you stood there, body trembling as your fists clenched at your sides. you didn’t think it was too much to ask him to remember something as simple as an anniversary. all you’d wanted was a card or something. even a simple kiss on the cheek would do. but you should’ve known better than expecting the bare minimum from jack thurlow. but you were going to prepare dinner for him. it was your duty after all.

after an hour of tirelessly working in the kitchen, you looked out the window and saw jack’s black car pulling into the driveway, contrasting against the vibrant sunset in the background. you quickly straightened up your apron, hiding whatever it was that you were wearing underneath as you heard him barge in through the door. “i’m home.” his voice was just over a mumble.

he peeked his head into the living room, seeing no sign of you. “in here!” your voice called from the kitchen. he muttered a few words under his breath as he trudged over to the kitchen, stopping dead in his tracks as soon as he saw you. you were on your knees, bent into the oven as you slowly pulled out a hot tray of lasagna, your apron getting in the way of the main attraction. but you’d already caught his eye just as planned.

you set the dish on the counter, grabbing a plate for him. “dinner’s ready. just like you asked.” jack seemed stunned that you’d bothered obeying his command after how he had treated you, feeling a small pang of guilt in his chest. he nodded. “thanks.” he said as he made his way to the dining table, sitting down in his usual seat.

you quickly whipped off your apron, smoothening out the short, translucent sun dress that you had put on. you walked in holding a perfectly prepared plate of lasagna, garnished with a sprig of basil. you set the plate in front of him, his eyes shooting in your direction and immediately taking him by surprise. as you handed him his fork, you purposefully fumbled it and dropped it on the ground. “oops, silly me.” you smiled sweetly, bending over to pick it up. jack’s breath instantly went heavy as your hips pressed into his arm, the thin fabric riding up your body just enough to give him a taste of what he was missing.

you could feel his eyes boring into your ass as you teasingly came back up, setting the fork on the table without even bothering to rinse it off. you were still angry, but you felt a sense of triumph as you saw the glistening drool nearly falling down his lip. he shook his head, taking a deep and shaky breath. in a much softer voice that dripped with guilt, he spoke. “l-look, angel. can we ta-” but you were already back in the kitchen, scrubbing away at all the dishes in the sink.

jack sighed deeply, his appetite vanishing in an instant. he peeked over at you, listening to the sound of you humming and feeling his gut wrench at the way your hips swayed ever so slightly. undeniable guilt was coursing through his veins at this point. while he was out, he’d concluded that he needed to apologize for never acknowledging the little things that you appreciated so much. and the fact that you still got all dolled up and cooked for him after that, it sickened him to his core.

he pushed his seat away from the table, quietly making his way over to you with his hands shoved in his pocket and his head angled downward, leaning against the kitchen doorframe and watching as you washed the dishes. even while doing the most mundane chores, you looked so divine. like an angel who’d come down to save jack from his sins. or a succubus that had come to make all his lustful fantasies come true. it was an illusion that often had him losing sleep at night.

with he deep breath, he walked up behind you and pressed his body against yours, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head in the crook of your neck. “...i’m so sorry, baby…” you could fight the smirk that tugged at your lips as his toned biceps pressed against your tits. “oh really? but i thought that you were never wrong?” 

he tightened his grip around your waist, his lips kissing your neck softly. “i’m a fuckin’ idiot for being so mean to you. i didn’t mean to forget our anniversary. i-i’ve just been so stressed with work and all and…” he swallowed hard, rubbing slow circles onto your waist with his thumbs. “i’m just so goddamn sorry, baby.” you smiled, turning off the faucet and spinning around to face him.

he leered down at you, his remorseful gaze flickering with something much more explicit. the purposefully small sundress sagged on your body just a little, as if it was begging to come off. he smiled a little as he began to feel tightness in his jeans. “what if i made it up to you right here, angel? would that make you happy?” you had to stop yourself from jumping with joy. no matter how much of an alien jack seemed like sometimes, he was still a man. and men were well known for having a common weakness.

though you were aware of what he was insinuating, you fluttered your eyelashes, trailing a hand down his chest which was clothed in a dark blue sweater. “how..?” he grinned, hands trailing down to your ass as he picked you up, connecting his lips with yours in a needy kiss. you wrapped your arms around his neck, jack setting you down on the counter as a deep moan escaped from his lips and entered yours.

his hands immediately traveled to the thin string that held the sundress together. “i’ve been wanting to take this thing off all night…” he looked up at you, his frosty eyes seeming to be begging for permission. when you nodded, he frantically undid the neat bow, tossing it to the side and wasting no time taking off the dress.

his eyes darted to your tits first, his pants growing tighter by the second. he cupped your breasts, taking one of your erect buds into his mouth and swirling circles on it with his tongue as he kneaded the other one between his fingers. you bit your lip and whimpered softly as he stimulated you.

through his jeans, you felt his cock mimicking the patterns of a heartbeat. here he was, pleasuring you before even thinking of himself. you reached your hands to his belt, unbuckling it and letting the metal clang to the ground. his pants slipped down his knees with ease, his cock springing up and slapping him on the stomach.

he pulled away from your nipples, smiling drunkenly at you. “you see how hard you get me, baby..?” your eyes widened with amusement as it began to drip with precum just from the sight of you. he gave himself a few lazy strokes, desperate groans making his chest rise and fall. jack lined his rod up with your cunt, his arm wrapped around your waist as he held you close.

he slowly slipped himself into your walls and you tightened your grip around him, your teeth digging into his shoulder blade. he rubbed your clit to help it go in smoother. “i’ve got you, baby. is it okay if i go rough with you today?” you nodded, already feeling so full just by him being inside of you.

his hands moved to your hips and he began bucking himself into you, lips parted as needy sounds emerged from them. he pulled your legs onto his shoulders, the cool air of the kitchen covering your body as he immediately hit you in the core. then he went for it.

with his hands gripping your hips tightly, his balls slapped against the base of your pussy. his forehead pressed against yours his hot breath synching with yours. your gummy walls were practically crushing his holes. no matter how many times he’d fucked you, you were still tight as a virgin.

you rolled your hips against him, tossing your head back as his cock twitched inside of you. he was going at lightning speed, the slight curve of his dick hitting you in the perfect spot each time. “o-oh god… r-right there, jack…” his brows were furrowed with whatever emotion he felt right now.  “i got you…” his arms were wrapped tightly around you as the sounds of your moans, whimpers, and skin slapping together echoed through the polished walls of the kitchen.

jack bit the inside of his mouth to prevent anything from coming out. “y-you… you have no idea how much i’ve missed this, angel. ‘ts been too long… too goddamn long…” your hands tangled themselves in his thick hair as he abused your guts, you climaxes nearing at a rapid pace.

you could feel his cock swelling inside of you as he desperately tried to keep himself from cumming, but the lack of sexual activity left his stamina lower than usual. his knees buckled as his balls tightened up, making way for the flood of cum that cascaded through his cannon. he quickly whipped himself out of you, dropping to his knees and shoving two fingers into your throbbing pussy as his tongue swirled circles onto your clit. with a few contractions of your limbs, a thick, white waterfall poured out of you, trailing down his chin all the way down to his neck.

he licked you completely dry, his tongue meeting every fold and cleaning up every inch of your sweet cunt. he rose back up to his feet, kissing you on the forehead and picking you up again. “how’s that for an anniversary gift, huh?” you laughed softly. “i think you’re getting the hang of it now.” he beamed with joy, tucking his cock back into his pants. “how about we wrap up this fine evening with a nice, warm bath?” you wrapped your arms around your neck, you naked body embracing his in a tight hug. ”lead the way, jack.”

author's note: this was too much fun to write!!

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #smut #jack goes home #jack thurlow #jack thurlow smut #jack goes home smut #jack thurlow x reader #lana del rey

[yourlocaltreesimp]

Yan!Chain headcannons

Sky and Four

part 1

part 2

part 3

Credits to the lovely @mushroomwoods and their Sky content, Inspired a lot of how I imagine him

Tw: Yandarism and it’s accessories, obsessiveness, violence, descriptions of murder

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Sky

He was cautiously nice when you first met. He definitely understood that being cold to you wouldn’t get them anywhere, especially since you were in the same situation as them and terrified. But even he admits that he was scared you were a trick.

Afterall, how could someone so sweet and simply lovely be left to them? Someone so willing to help despite them themselves being helpless.

It took him longer to pick up that you were his guide. And even after he remembers, it’s still a little fuzzy. Unlike Wild, who’s memory is already faulty and loosing what he has of you possibly by Hylia’s influence, Hylia made Sky forget you. You were his guiding light through the darkness, and the sun eclipsed your glow, leaving him blinded.

And yet in spite of this, he does everything possible to make sure there will not a repeat. He’s already killed a god, what’s one more?

Yeah, He jumps straight to murder.

Not that you know.

Love languages in terms of giving, Physical touch and Words of Affirmation, anything to let you know that he’s there. And he’s not going to leave you again. Not if he can help it, not if there’s any ritual or magic or spell or anything in the multiverse that can keep you bound to his side.

Now, with that said, his new deity could do much as look at some jewellery and he’s emptying his wallet. Or shyly ask for his help with whatever your struggles are and he’s already forgotten what he was assigned to do. Anything for his light.

As for receiving? Anything. He’ll take absolutely anything you have to offer and will not ask for more. He’d bask in whatever words, time, gifts or otherwise you have to offer and would fool himself into believing that that is his exclusively.

He’s the most two faced in the chain, along with Wars. Wars however is willing to let the mask slip if it makes you behave. Sky on the other hand, is not. He’s layed down lives. This is not an if. The others may be cautious, but with his absolutely violent abandonment issues, he’s hid more bodies than people on skyloft.

And on that abandonment issues? He’s so playing that card. He will guilt trip the life out of you you. The others are willing to let you get hurt, to let you learn you’re safest with them. Sky however, wouldn’t even dare. Sure, Wild’s abandonment issues are just as bad, but he’s had time to simmer off. This is a fresh, bleeding wound that only you could heal.

Aside from that level of toxicity, you’re sleeping well. Literally. Naptimes, Cuddles, Not taking watch, Comfort from nightmares, you aren’t missing anything in the ways of comfort. And that’s not even counting the rest of your cult.

So he wouldn’t kidnap you, but you are going to deal with him begging at your feet to not leave him. He’s already so alone. No one knows- no one cares aside from you. Please don’t leave again.

And even if you do leave, don’t be shocked if he shows up in your house one day. He’ll find his way back to you. He’ll follow your light. Like he always has.

Nicknames for you: My love/Beloved, My light, My god/goddess, Dearest, Dove, My Star

Bonus: Another member of the Chain you are unknowingly married to. (credits to @majesties-palace and @skyloftian-nutcase i believe) You have one of Crimson’s feathers, the Skyloftian equivalent to an engagement ring. Better yet, you’d wear it all the time too, not knowing the grave you’re digging.

Four

Recognised you the soonest. Stared at you for a good four minutes before realising who you were.

And that’s how you found yourself traveling with the chain, him being the one to advocate for you to stay.

It did take him a while to fall in love, however. He realised you quickly, but that doesn’t mean he realised his feelings. Even if he did have a physical manifestation of them.

It wouldn’t be until someone was teasing him about his previous actions that stuff began to click together. Leaving gifts in your bag- money, jewellery that he made, letters one from each color (each with their own handwriting), as well as various other goods that he’d even considered that his feelings weren’t platonic.

But boy oh boy do they spiral from there! To cut his own mental breakdown short, he falls for your shortly after… but the colours take it farther. A lot farther. Every aspect of him, personified or not, wanted to love and own every part of you

His preferred love languages I see being Quality time and Gift giving. The former being literally anything- hour long chats, long walks, you sitting in the forge as he fills out orders, anything where you’re away from the others and with him. The ladder being gifts- But especially the ones he makes for you. Ones endowed with magic so he’ll find his way back to you. Ones made of Iron, so Hyrule will keep his hands off you. One ring from each colour. Each so finely detailed you’d never consider letting damage befall them.

As for love language receiving, Quality time and oddly enough, Physical touch. Quality time for the reason he likes sharing it with you. He likes having you to himself- especially on the days he feels more like four people sharing a body rather than One person as a whole. Physical touch, however, was one he didn’t expect from himself. But the first time you hugged him, most likely after the first elaborate gift he gave you, his brain associated it automatically as the highest form of praise for his work. To him, If he hopes to be substantial, your touch is the reward he strives for.

Two faced as Sky, but in a different way. He’s responsible face to face, friendly to you and reliable as a teammate. Sure, A little stubborn and a force to be reckoned with if you find yourself his enemy, but a good person all around. But the second you’re safe and out of earshot? Feral. He’s the easiest to tip off anger wise, along with Sky and Legend. The three of them would take turns on who scouts the victim, who bleeds them dry and who rids of the carcass.

You unraveled this man. Yes, i’m the way he’s at your every whim and also in the way his mind finds its way back to you constantly and in the way he devotes himself to protecting you so fiercely and in the way he’d sacrifice anything to just know you a little more. But also in the way he was so stable, or as close to as a Link could really get. But seeing you, in person, so scared and vulnerable? He was bound to spiral.

He’d try to kidnap you. We can debate on how well that would go. Not saying he’d be unsuccessful. He made the chains, the minish would let him know if his spouse ran off, not to mention he’s in the house nearly all the time with forging and what not, you’re not leaving. But… you can be bargain your way to freedom. Guilt tripping is probably the most efficient unless you’d like to spent hours arguing with Vio (he’d see it as a challenge and thus an endearing battle of wit and wouldn’t take you seriously)

Preferred nicknames: Dearest, Dear, Love, Honey, Babe, My heart if he’s feeling especially guilty and/or sentimental

#linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #yandere linked universe #link x reader #linked universe x reader #link x you #yandere linked universe x reader #x reader #yandere link x reader #lu four #sky lu #lu sky x reader #lu four x reader #yan!sky #yan!four #fir’s library

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Wild Nights || CL16 {Epilogue}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x songstress!reader Summary: With a new album out it needs promoting and you find yourself missing Charles while you are in New York for a talkshow interview. Warnings: 18+only, flufffff WC: 1.1k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Epilogue

February 2025 “I wish you were here,” you whispered into the phone that you weren’t supposed to have in the talk show studio. “I’m shaking like a leaf.”

“You’ll do great, my love,” he reassured you and you could hear a lot of background noise from the other people at the airport. “I’ll see you soon.”

No sooner had the call ended that the studio lights dimmed and the live audience fell silent.

“Now our next guest really needs no introduction,” Jimmy Fallon began to say while you nervously paced behind the curtain, until Bea pulled you to a stop, “her debut self-titled album went platinum and I have no doubt her new album, Safety Car, will be just as good. Please, put your hands together for Y/N.”

Bea gave you an encouraging push and you forced yourself to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. No matter how many times you took the stage for a concert, or an interview, you still found yourself nervous - but you equally loved the thrill that came with it.

Once you were sitting in the chair the jitters faded away and you fell into the rhythm of answering the questions he fired your way.

“So, Safety Car, talk me through this album. How did you come up with the name?”

“Obviously Charles is a huge part of my life, we have known each other for a couple of years now, and this album was made collaboratively with him. That’s all him on the piano with pieces that he composed, so the journey of this album gives a glimpse into that relationship we have, especially the ups and downs that come with life. 

“I’m not sure if you keep up with Formula One, Jimmy, but when there’s danger on the track they deploy a safety car to guide the drivers through that peril. This whole album is about being each other's safety car and helping navigate the other through those hard times.”

“Wow, that is so wholesome and sweet,” he gushed before looking down at his cue card. “But what exactly is ‘that relationship’? Because we know you and Charles are together, everyone and their dog knows you two are together, but there was never actually any announcement as such and now there’s rumours that you secretly tied the knot while you were at the Vegas Grand Prix this year?”

You tipped your head back with a laugh. “You’ll have to ask him that because I don’t think he ever officially asked me out. We kind of just collided and stayed that way.”

“So you aren’t together?” he gasped like it was some scandalous news but you just gave him a wink.

“We love each other dearly, I mean, we found each other when we were both going through a difficult time and helped each other to heal. Any chance we have at seeing each other we take but we have always been aware that the reality is that our lives are in very different places. Charles’ work takes him all over the world and with my second tour coming up there just aren't a lot of places where our lines intersect.” 

The crowd sighed sadly but you shrugged it off with a smile as you continued, “Neither of us would ask the other to give up on their dreams, that wouldn’t be love then, would it? It’s what inspired my first single Love Is Letting Go. Charles had an amazing 2024 season and has renewed his contract with Ferrari, and his dream is to win a championship with them in particular so he’s very focused on that for this coming year and I’m so proud of him. Maybe one day our lives will be at the same pace but for now we cherish the moments we do get.”

“Oh don’t we know it,” the host chuckled. “We have all seen the photos floating around whenever you two hit the town. Looks like you have some pretty wild nights out together.”

“We do have a lot of fun. Why not? Life’s too short, might as well be wild and free.”

“That is true, but are you free? How else do you explain this photo?”

A picture appeared on the screen that had been taken inside the infamous White Chapel in Las Vegas. It wasn’t exactly clear who was in the photo because of the costumes but it didn’t take a genius to work out who was standing at the altar getting married. 

Pierre’s brown hair stuck out the front of a slick jet-black coifed wig while Bea’s white halter dress barely contained her boobs as she twerked against him. It was a little harder to tell it was you and Charles in front of Arthur, who had bought an online Certificate of Ordination so he could be the celebrant. Your brother-in-law had spent so long trying to find a printer in the hotel that he was last to arrive and left with a Star Wars costume.

“Well, Jimmy, I believe that is Darth Vader, Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe, and Bonnie and Clyde. And it looks like they are having one hell of a time.”

“That’s all you’re gonna give us?” he asked with a chuckle and mock disappointment as he shook his head. “Fine, fine. Can you at least give us a song?”

The small side stage was dark when you took your place at the microphone but when the lights came on and illuminated the piano it wasn’t Bea that was sitting there as planned.

The crowd screamed as they saw Charles and your eyes widened, a smile growing as you drank him in after a long two weeks apart. “You’re meant to be on a plane.”

“I got on an earlier one,” he said, the piano microphone picking up his soft words as he sent a wink to the camera, “so I could support my beautiful, talented wife.”

The air froze for a split second before chaos erupted and the audience cheered.

You looked across the stage at Jimmy as a smile broke on your face. “Uh-oh, busted!” You reached into your pocket and slipped the sedate diamond ring you had chosen, opting for something smaller than the huge rock that Charles would have gone for, and slipped it back on your finger that had felt empty without it. “I guess this makes us pretty official.”

Charles teased the crowd as he played the wedding march tune. “There was never any doubt in my mind.”

Tagging: @91vhs @alwaysclassyeagle @applespiez @ravenqueen27 @booksobsess @tempo-rary-fix @baw-sixteen @im-an-overthinker @notleclerc

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf

[a66-1]

i like the way you kiss me

Simon x reader

TW: Cursing.

a/n: little late night dabble bc I've been reading a lot and I want to write

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. please I'm bored, it won't hurt to request..

NOT PROOFREAD

A stressful day at work is honestly the last thing you need this week.

Not only have you been absolutely drowning in fucking work, your parents have to pull out favorites right in the middle of holiday season, and suddenly you've been ghosted for a month. And, oh, of course there's an and, nobody is in town for you to go unwind with.

You groaned into your hands, the bus stopping to let a few people out for the night. You just want to be back in your flat with your stuffed animals, and not on the rickety bus from your fucking nine to five job that barely pays enough as is, and you can barely keep yourself afloat when your stupid manager puts all the work on you. You pull at your cheeks, before leaning your head against the window, huffing onto the glass, causing it to fog up slightly as your eyes chase the raindrops that slide down the clear material.

You check your phone to find a few random text messages, and then one from..

Simon?

Woah, woah wait, you haven't seen that name pop up since-

"Missus? Last stop of night. Get." The driver gets your attention. You softly sigh, and grab you bag, and get off the bus. Fuck.

You missed your stop being in your head again.

You took a sharp left, as you walked down the dark streets, following the little map in your head so you can finally get home. You reach for your hood, and then remembered..

Fuck, your sweatshirt is at work. Goddammit.

You headed up the stairs to your flat, cursing yourself out for not thinking clearly again

You carded through your bag for your keys, standing at the door to your flat. You swore you saw your keys in here, shit, what if you left them at work. You softly fist your hand and hit it against your door. You try the handle and..

It.. Opened?

You stalk quietly into your house, as you put your things down. You walked to your living area, and found a very much relaxed Simon on your couch. You stare, shocked, before stammering.

"Simon? What- You-" You gesture wild with your hands. He snickered, and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Hey, love. 's been a minute." He stood in front of you, and smiled. You slap his chest softly, checking subconsciously to see if he was real. You haven't seen him since he left, almost 2 years ago, right out of highschool to college. He was.. Built, tattoos adorning his arms. He was not the Simon you knew, but his eyes...

The way he looked down at you.. Made your heart flutter.

"Si, I.. I fucking missed you, you don't.." You fail for words. You need somebody, anybody, especially right now.

He was obviously the best and most hoped for, though. Your hands cupped his cheeks and pulled him down into a soft kiss, your lips crashing against his. His hands slid onto your hips, pulling them against his.

He pulled back, and kissed your forhead, wiping the stray tear that lingered in your cheek.

"I like the way you kiss me, lovie."

requests are open!

Goodnight babes...

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon fluff #simon riley

[drewsbuzzcut]

I Want Your Midnights

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes blurb

warnings: mentions sex and maybe alcohol consumption and I think that’s all

italics are flashbacks

The sun filters through the sheer, linen curtains. Dallas’ bare body is covered by a white sheet, but her shoulders and collarbones are on display. The sparkly “N” necklace rests perfectly on her delicate skin, reflecting the sunlight. He leans down letting his lips press a chaste kiss on her chest.

“G’morning,” the girl whispers, stretching and getting even more tangled in the sheets.

He loves her so much.

“Morning, baby,” he mutters into her cheek, brushing away the hair matted on her forehead.

Her fingers card his hair and he’s reminded of the night before. After watching the ball drop in Times Square, he took her back to their hotel room and feasted between her legs, sucking her clit into his mouth as she pulled on his curls. He can still hear her sweet moans.

“What’re you thinking about?” Dallas asks when she sees Nick bite down on his lip to cover up a smile.

“You. Us. Yesterday was fun and I can’t wait to have more new years with you,” he responds, almost shyly.

The girl reaches a hand out to pull his face to hers, needing to feel his plump lips.

“Yesterday was really fun,” she whispers into the kiss.

Small giggles fall from her mouth when she sits up and looks around their hotel room. Their bedazzled “2024” headbands, their clothes, and a few discarded condoms are strewn all over the floor.

“And crazy,” he adds.

“Very crazy,” she agrees.

Nick and Dallas have been waiting in the large crowd, dancing and talking along to whoever had been performing at the time. When the time came for Sabrina Carpenter to perform, Dallas was extremely excited. It made Nick smile when she’d look around in wonder and gasp at something she’d never seen before.

As Sabrina’s set started with “Feather,” Dallas started dancing in front of her hockey boyfriend. It was his way to make sure she was safe, and so he could watch her hips move. Her mini skirt- albeit not keeping her warm at all- sure did make the couple grow red in their cheeks. Each time Dallas swayed her hips to the beat, Nick’s hands went to rest on her body. The girl’s blush rose to her skin at his chilled touch. As for Nick, he’d blush every time he thought about taking her skirt off of her body. It was the only thing keeping him awake after their busy week and even busier day.

“Clark is everybody’s favorite dick type. Make a toast to everyone you dislike. Balls are dropping everywhere at midnight,” Sabrina sings her famous outro and Dallas goes wild.

The girl is grinding against her boyfriend and those poor people next to them, but she’s so incredibly happy so she doesn’t care.

“Did you hear that, Nicky? Balls are dropping everywhere at midnight,” she turns to face Nick, whispering hotly in his ear. He doesn’t even get a chance to respond before she’s turning back around to continue dancing on him.

“Is that a promise?” Nick whispers in her ear, both his arms wrapped around her body. His lips find purchase on her neck, sucking faint red bruises into her skin.

“It’s a promise, baby. I’m going to worship your body the second we’re upstairs,” she says against his lips, sealing her statement with a kiss.

Nick smirks at her, swiping a thumb over her cheek to get a giddy smile out of her. Her eyes reflect all the sparkling lights, and Nick knows his entire life is right there in front of him. He leans down, pecking her forehead before they continue swaying around to the live music.

They spend the remaining time joking around and just being in their own world. Dallas eventually brings out her retro camcorder to film Nick as they laugh and sing terribly. This night definitely has so many memories that she wants to document.

It’s when the countdown starts that Dallas starts to feel nervous. She’s about to have her first ever new year’s kiss while watching the ball drop in Times Square. Two firsts with the boy she’s so sure about. It’s honestly terrifying, but she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else with anyone else.

FIVE

“What’s one thing you want in the new year?” Nick shouts over the yelling crowd, but Dallas can hear him just fine.

FOUR

“Happiness. This last half of the year has been amazing and I don’t want it to stop,” she answered, staring deeply into his blue eyes. Her hand rises to rest on his cheek, his lips connecting with her palm to give her some semblance of warmth.

THREE

Dallas is so overcome with giddiness. She never would’ve thought, at the beginning of the year, that she’d be here with Nick. Nick who’s shown her a life so wonderful and full of love and new opportunities. She’s so lucky to have already found her person.

TWO

“What’s one thing you want this year?” She asks his question.

ONE

“You,” he pulls her face to his, their lips connecting as everyone welcomes the new year in hoots and hollers.

Nick moves away first, Dallas’ lips chasing after him. He gives her one more peck.

“Happy new year, June bug,” he whispers, intertwining their fingers.

“Happy new year, Nick,” she leans up to kiss him again.

She pulls away with a laugh, grasping his hand as she moves them through the crowd and on the way back to their hotel.

“I think I might need your help getting to the restroom,” she mutters once she snaps out of her memories, kicking the sheet off her body.

“Come on, June bug,” he says, lifting her body in his arms.

“I’m glad it’s just us last night and today,” she whispers into his neck.

“Me, too,” he kisses her forehead.

Their new year is starting off right.

a/n: ENJOY! Again, happy new year to everyone🫶

#nick moldenhauer #nick moldenhauer x oc #nick moldenhauer x reader #nick x dallas #so it goes au #umich imagine #umich hockey