#its either will i be forever alone or will i ever enjoy being with my friends again on dailybasis

[evilcowgirl]

Relationship Headcannons

pairings: arthur, charles, javier (x reader)

a/n: was thinking about these today while listening to fiona apple hope y'all enjoy !!

warnings: nsfw

Arthur

he has low self confidence and doesn't ever really feel worthy of your time or attention, so he'll never ask for it directly. still, you can tell when he's missing you because he's a bit obvious.

"Wha'cha doing sitting out here all by yourself?" "Oh nothin' you just seemed busy. . ." "You want some company?" "Only if you'll have me."

he's a bit distant physically most of the time, not because he isn't crazy about you but because thats how he's always been, but he loves when you initiate any kind of intimacy (kisses, soft touches, just wanting to be held) he always reciprocates

compliments are nearly almost met with either objection or you ending up undressed he has no medium !!

nearly goes insane over your safety, he never really thought you were fit for a group like this and wishes he could hide you away somewhere safe. he's the reason you're barely ever out on jobs. he likes knowing you're safe and waiting on him when you get back.

sometimes after a job or an outing he comes back even more brute than usual and that oftentimes means you two need to head back to his tent and be alone for a bit while he gets his mind clear.

sometimes pushes you away when he's stressed but you can see right through his rudeness. when he's upset you hold your ground until he gives in and tells you what's bothering you no matter what he says about wanting you to leave him be.

"I think you might know me better than myself darlin'."

Charles

his worst fear is scaring you, its the last thing he ever wants to do and he finds himself constantly checking that you're not frightened

after being on a job with him where you had to watch him do something rather intense he'd check up on you just to be sure

"You know I had to do that right? I didn't want to." , "I didn't want you seeing that." , "You're not scared are you?"

he loves when you sit on his lap. It makes him feel warm inside. he's really sweet like that and love's having your bodies close.

soft dom.

favorite thing in the world is to watch you ride him, it gets him off more than anything else to see you pleasuring yourself above him while he still has the control to set the pace.

he only really speaks when he has something to say and that's something you learn to understand. sometimes you can talk forever without him saying a word, just glances and nods. you know that that doesn't mean he isn't listening, in-fact he's the best listener you've ever met.

EXTREMELY flirty when he's drunk or even just tipsy. he's really good with his words and has you hiding your face from embarrassment at all the attention.

i think he likes thigh riding i don't have any reasoning for it but i'm right he loves it when you ride his thigh cause he thinks its cute.

he takes you out hunting for small things like rabbits and squirrels when you feel up to it. he congratulates you like you've just done the most incredible thing ever during it. he likes to pick you up in a "yass u did it !!!" type of way and it makes you swoon.

Javier

he compliments you in the most beautiful ways and you wonder where he learned to talk to women because jesus christ !!

he has tons of stories and it feels like he's lived 1000 more lives than you. even with everything he's been through he still has a young soul and you find that endearing.

he gets a weird sense of pride teaching you things (and not just survival related things hes lowkey a freak)

he's really attached to his clothes, they're like an extension on him and so naturally he only trusts you to clean them.

he has a knife kink, this is basically cannon. he'd never force something like that on you if you weren't into it but he'd try to introduce it to you in the most non threatening way possible.

"It's just my knife, see? Yeah see? There's nothing to be scared of, have I ever hurt you?"

he comes to you with all of his worries whether they're something you two can laugh off together or something more serious. he trusts you with his emotions more than anyone else and he was more of them than he lets on. he likes to lay his head down in your lap while you play with his hair. it's the easiest way to get him talking about whatever's on his mind.

he's possessive and jealous just about to to a fault. he all but brags about you being his to anyone who will listen, not only because you're beautiful but because he's genuinely so proud of you. the less heartwarming side of this is the possessiveness that comes with it, if he even has an inkling that another man has interest in you he doesn't hesitate to press a revolver to them or his knife to their throat.

"hate" sex. he likes to really get the point across that you're his to you and everyone else. he leaves hickies and bruises that ache and last for days when he's done with you.

he's got a soft spot for you that he's not afraid to show to the rest of the gang, kissing you up against trees or clasping hands with you regardless who's watching.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 headcanons #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #charles smith #charles smith x reader #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #arthur morgan imagine #javier escuella imagine #arthur morgan headcanons #javier escuella headcanons #charles smith imagine #rdr2 imagine

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - A Lot Ended, Quite Bit Started, I got things to say about it all

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Nov 2023 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) 3 of 8 - This is just a great BL. So fun with few frills and paced nicely. Thai talent + Korean story is proving very harmonious for narrative flow. I’m delighted. I love that they don’t shy away from letting Tew be an actual violent criminal who is just gone and mushy for this one geeky cutie. Also I appreciate it when a show hangs a lantern on its own plot failing. In this case, the main character being drunk as a plot devise 2x in subsequent eps.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 2 of 10 - Love it. Love Spite and his chronic guilt over his younger brother, the golden child. Love that he is driven to repair for a past that no longer exists. Evil mom who cares more for what her son can do than that son, let alone his brother. The volleyball well…. erm. I played varsity (setter) so this is amusing to me but I’m not mad about it. 

I agree that this Not Me just sports and pulp. 

Last Twilight (Fri YT) 1 of 12 - JimmySea are back and is this... good? Do I like this? I don't have faith, GMMTV has been doing us dirty lately. But I think I like it! Why The Little Prince AGAIN? Ugh. 

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI 1 of 8 - Domundi giving us an office comedy hyung romance staring TutorYim (Cutie Pie) with NetJames (Bed Friend) and LeoTai (Friend Forever) providing support. Lets hope they stick to only 8 eps. Buckle up, I got shit talking to type.

I warned ya out the gate that this is a Cheewin comedy, so tonally it could be very OFF, and boy howdy is it EVER off. There's a place this kind of show goes where it's so cringe it's visually rotten and this one went there out that gate. Also, I'm gonna say it because no one else has, Yim is not good in this role. Comedy is HARD to do and Cheewin isn't doing this green actor any favors. He's chewing the scenery like a woodchuck after a diet.

To be fair, Tutor isn't great either, but he's been given less rope to hang himself with. Mai is currently suffering from seme obscurity: the love interest's defining characterization being = tall and handsome. (Which is not characterization... agony... glares at Cdramas.) We will see if he gets a personality, but based on past work form this director and this writer, don't bank on it.

Frankly? I'm not convinced either of them are mature enough as a pair or as actors to carry something this abrasive and to stand up to Cheewin's visual abuse of our eyeballs. I think this is going to be a rocky ride. HOWEVER, because it has tropes I'm good with (as opposed to SCOY) I'm sticking with it for now but this is gonna be ROUGH going for everyone.

Backstory: This used to be a JimmyTommy vehicle before the pair split (also prev title Middle Love). Adapted from a Y-novel. I can actually see Tommy in this role very clearly and I suspect he may have been bettern(and I am more a TutorYim fan as a pair). Also I will likely be referencing SCOY a lot while watching this because SCOY is peak Cheewin nonsense comedy but with an incredibly strong lead pair, so comparisons will be drawn.

Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 7 of 12 - Sigh. Linguistic negotiation but for sad reasons? It fascinating but it hurts. Look, the cast is very good I just don’t like the premise.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) The Camp Fire ep 12 of 24 - Well that was extremely odd. I’m not sure how I feel about it. If it hadn’t had the strange framework and horror component and been just a simple BL story I probably would’ve enjoyed it. Why do the pulps always  squander their best pairs? 5/10 New installment (Friends Forever) looks terrible and not BL.

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) qp 1 of 8 - House of Stars meets Boyband. I am not impressed. Thailand just needs to leave everything music related to Korea. I’m enacting a ban. The framework on this is truly awful. The talent is not talented in acting let alone dance or song. I thought about sticking with it a few more eps but i putting in on hold. It’s too wooden even for me.

@heretherebedork I depend on you to report back. This is the kind of thing only you can watch. It’s like Cupid 2023. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

A Breeze of Love (Korea iQIYI) 1-2 of 8 - previously know as Weather Forecast Love this one popped up in MDL's currently airing, and I was like, what what? Basically: Tsundere insomniac grump and his sunshine jock ex bestie (human sleeping pill) who now hates him. Basketball is involved and I love it.

It ended, are we sad? REVIEWS

Kiseki: Dear to Me (Taiwan Viki & Gaga)

Yes, we sad! Ai Di and his dumb oversized sweaters and flappy flappy sleeves are EVERYTHING.

Final ep? Nice that the elder gays got screen time, more of this please? Sides dominated this finale, matched outfits and all. Also I’m living for the Bless this Mess shirt. Finally Taiwan gave us lots of biting and a counter lift. It’s like they know me!

Quick pitch for KDTM?  

The plot is totally ridiculous and slightly unhinged, but that’s normal for Taiwan. It involves all the tropes under a very casual framework of gay mafia gangs + food = love. Absolutely every character is queer. There’s a gum-ball machine of cameos, elder gay rep, great chemistry from all pairs, and a KILLER side couple. As a result Kiseki is a poster child for Taiwanese BL, and I happen to love Taiwanese BL. Bonus? They also managed to END IT WELL, which we cannot expect from Taiwan. 9/10 HIGHLY RECOMMENDED 

Triggers for knife play, child abuse, lingering trauma. I found both platforms did not do a great job on subs, but I will give the edge to Viki for pure usability.

You Are Mine (Taiwan Viki & Gaga)

We are more disappointed than sad.

Far be it from me to extend this show, but we should’ve had 2 episodes of quality supportive boyfriends coping with family drama before the mom-confrontation climax and defense of the ESTABLISHED relationship. Baby's little speach had no power or impact coming where it did in this narrative, even though it was sweet. And while the make-out scenes were charming it mostly jsut felt like we'd squandered this pair. This last ep was good and rewatchable, but a series cannot be judged on its last ep alone.

Finally... could have used some side dishes. My vote? Lesbian secretaries!

Conclusion 

I am sorry Taiwan, you know I love you, but I have to say it: this show was a mess of terrible pacing. And not a hot mess, sadly. I should have liked everything about this: it’s an office drama, it’s mature characters, it’s grumpy/sunshine, it’s a strong power dynamic, and it’s Taiwan - which means good chemistry. YAM was all those things and yet… something went horribly wrong with the narrative structure. You tried dears, but not hard enough. 7/10 

Bump Up Business (Korea Gaga)

Well, poop. Don’t have them speak English. Also no playing drunk. Meanwhile, all the manipulative gay drama. No kiss of course.

How do I summate this?

An idol group did the best they could with a script tailored to idols but which they were not allowed to fully realize because they are active idols in the same group. Ultimately it felt a bit like OnlyOneOf were just doing one of those Kpop skits for a variety show were two of of them dresses in drag/gay/BL and "ha ha isn't it funny?" I don’t know, it was fine? 6/10

stop wasting my time, Korea

Mr Cinderella 2 (Vietnam YT)

DNF on the advice of several of my BL spies I will not be finishing this. Apparently it pretty much ends sad. Here's an explanation.

It's Airing But...

I Cannot Reach You AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai (Japan Tues Netflix-Japan & ????) 8 eps - in classic JBL fashion, I Cannot Reach You could not be reached. I will try it when I have some time and access to my home computer.

One Room Angel (Japan Gaga) 6 eps - adaptation of Harada’s manga (which I did not like) about a clerk who's stabbed, nearly dies, and returns home to find an angel waiting for him. With only 5 eps and a good chance this won’t end happy, I'm gonna wait and let you tell me how it goes.

WAITING FOR VERDICT OR TO BINGE

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until it completes its run.

SHADOW (Thai Gaga) 14eps - this is a horror BL with ghosts & paranormal elements in a boarding school setting. I'm not wild about Thai horror (or horror at all). It features Singto (who did paranormal BL He's Coming to Me) opposite Fluke N (who's done a couple horror's before). Also Fiat. Dan suffers from sleep paralysis, and in his dreams he sees a shadow that suffocates him. It gets worse when he transfers schools. I'm holding off on this one and if told it's good I'll binge watch.

Next Week Looks Like This

11/15 Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru AKA Aki wa Haru to Gohan wo (Japan Gaga) - this BL movie is coming to Gaga.

11/16 PLAYBOYY (Thurs ????) 10 eps - trailer here, high heat and it's helmed by Cheewin (shudder) with screenplay by Den (Only Friends) under Copy A Bangkok. It's gonna be a shizz show people. It's predicting Thai style "dark" (War of Y) one of my least favorites. Apparently there is a "plot" but when has Cheewin ever bothered with plot? A university kid who was involved with escorts, sex-trade, porn, online hook-ups, drugs, prostitution, blackmail, revenge, and so forth goes missing. His twin (sigh) and two friends look for him.

11/17 Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 1 of 14 - high heat teaser here, based on alittlebixth's omegaverse novel #พิษเบ๊บ’ set in the world of car racing (author says show will not be omegaverse). Charlie (fresh face), a young hot nerd, approaches his driver idol (Pavel "my love" 2 Moons 2) to borrow a racing car and win one for the team. Production house is new to BL but behind the Club Friday stuff. Show stars many known actors: Nut (Oxygen), Pop (Ram in La Cuisine), Pon (Phai in Gen Y, we LOVE him), Benz (twins in En of Love: This Is Love Story).

Thailand bring the November heat, I guess?

Upcoming November BL

11/19 Bake Me Please (Sun Gaga) ep 1 of 6 - trailer here, stars Ohm (of OhmFluke) opposite Guide (bestie from IFYLITA) and possibly also Poom (well known, but not for BL). This looks like an actually gay version of Antique Bakery (play it again, BL). Still, I'm intrigued, it looks HELLA pretty.

11/22 7 Days Before Valentine (Weds ????) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk. Adapted from y-novel of the same name, directed by Tu (180 Degree) stars Jet (Why You… Y Me?). When you want your old love again, but fate sends you a reaper instead. All he can do for you is kill people. I'll likely give this a pass and wait to binge if safe.

11/25 The Sign (Sat ????) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk, but with a suspense and adult characters. Special investigators who loved each other in previous lives reunite in new bodies. Stars Billy Patchanon (BillySeng) & Babe Tanatat (new). Includes other SCOY favorites as a special investigation team. I may give this a try because I'm into the non-horror bits.

11/26 The Whisperer (Sun ????) 1 of 10 - trailer here. Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). He has dimples (My Ride) but I don't think even that gives me the will. Maybe a binge for me.

11/26 Cooking Crush (Sun YT) 1 of 12 - OffGun are back, trailer here. Adapted from the novel “Love Course! เสื้อกาวน์รุกเสื้อกุ๊กรับ” by iJune4S this is about Prem who runs a not-so-popular restaurant with 2 friends. About to go on a cooking competition with a huge reward, Prem gets involved with Ten, a stressed-out med student who wants Prem to teach him to cook.

11/30 For Him (Thurs ????) ep 1 of 10 - high heat trailer, I suspect iQIYI will scoop this one up. From the people who brought us Unforgotten Night (please no) based on a y-novel, man nursing a heartbreak has a one-night stand, but the other boy didn't want it to end. It looks terribly trashy so I'm in! Maybe I'll do a trash watch?

VIP Only (Taiwan) - may be delayed/canceled

Wuju Bakery AKA Space Bakery (Korea) - this one may be DOA

A Breeze of Love (Korea) - I know less than nothing about this.

Nov 2023 line up with screen caps here. Not kept updated.

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

This is in the intro card of My Dear Gangster Oppa, I'm just amusing myself.

Thank you Keseki for givign this to us twice!

Also the tears! So pretty crying.

And, of course, my favorite the biting!

Have I mentioned recently how much I love Taiwanese BL?

(Last week)

#this week in bl #bl updates #bl review #2023 bl #upcoming bl #Kiseki: Dear to Me review #Kiseki: Dear to Me #Taiwanese BL #You Are Mine review #You Are Mine #Bump Up Buisness Review #bump up business #Korean BL #My Dear Gangster Oppa #Thai BL #Twins the series #middleman's love #TutorYim #new bL #Beyond The Star #a breeze of love #Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru

[kingshigarakitomura]

its kinda sad but you'r my reason to live 🫤

Shigaraki Being Comforting Headcannon

———————————————————————————

Shigaraki//non gender specific reader. Detailed description of depression, implied suicidal ideations, mentions of alcohol, PLF arc.

You sat next to Shigaraki at the PLF’s upscale bar. He was alone, playing on his switch, just trying to pass the time while waiting for his injuries to heal and enjoy some peace and quiet.

You felt lonely too, and have looked up to your boss since you joined the league in the very beginning. Proud of how far he’s made it.. how far we’ve all made it.. but you can’t ignore the quiet depression lingering in the background of your mind. Even in moments of celebration, it’s there. It’s always there, following you like an unwanted entity, feeling as though it is forever attached to you.

Today was one of those days where the depression got louder. You could no longer bury it or push it away, it was demanding for you to feel its presence, to acknowledge it and face it. You felt heavy, empty, and alone, even though you were surrounded by people all the time, the feeling of worthlessness embodied your soul.

You were more quiet than usual, normally you talk a lot or at least smile at him and ask about his games, but not today. You just sat there staring at your drink as if you were looking through it. He couldn’t help but notice. “Either drink it or don’t, it’s creepy that you’re just sitting here like this”

Without looking away or moving, a tear falls down your face, changing his tone as one of his comrades is feeling pain. “Hey. Don’t just sit there and cry, tell me what’s wrong?”

You respond in a quiet and shaky voice, continuing to not move an inch, frozen in your tragic state, “it’s kinda sad but.. you’re my reason to live”

He doesn’t say anything.

Shigaraki just stares at you for a moment, his mouth slightly ajar as he is trying to choose his words carefully.

“Why does it have to be sad? I’d say that’s a great reason to exist” he grins.

You don’t react to his shitty joke. He then takes a sip of his drink and his voice becomes more serious.

“Look. That’s the reason I’m trying to change this rotten world. To destroy it. Will there by anything left after? Who knows really… but it’s better than living in a world full of pseudo-hero’s and all the dumbass people who worship the ground they walk on. The rejection felt from those around us will only grow stronger and more powerful each day until we do something about it. That’s why you’re here with the league right? Because you want to make a change too? So don’t do anything stupid to jeopardize that. You’re an important player in this game, you’ve survived this long with the issues you’ve had to face and deal with, what’s a little longer? Get angry, and fight back. I need you.”

Note from author:

It’s my first ever headcannon/short fic so I’m sorry if it’s bad or boring >.< I just wanted to spice up the ask responses a little bit if I can.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki roleplay #ask shigaraki #shigaraki tomura x reader #boku no hero academia #tomura shigaraki #boku no hero academia tomura #mha tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki headcanons

[daisynik7]

“Into you” by Fabolous for Connie Springer- smut + fluff

(S4 connie ofc)

Into You

I think you’re truly something special, just what my dreams are really made of

Pairing: Connie Springer x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.4k

cw: super fluffy, kinda cheesy, college au, modern day au, lots of basketball terms (applies specifically to NCAA and NBA), explicit language, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), implied creampie

Summary: You and Connie Springer have been close since childhood, growing up as next-door neighbors and best friends. The bond the two of you share is undeniable, but you’ve never been able to admit how deep your feelings are, either to yourself or to him. You continue to support him as his friend while he pursues his career as a basketball player, trying to get drafted into the NBA. Though the journey has its ups and downs, one thing is for certain: The two of you will always have each other, forever and ever. 

Author’s Notes: Hi anon! Thanks so much for requesting this song for the y2k karaoke party because it’s one of my FAVORITES! It really gives me Love & Basketball vibes, another favorite of mine that also happens to be a classic in the y2k era. This little fic is very loosely based off of that, so I hope you enjoy! Also, all the basketball/NBA tidbits are mostly from being with my boyfriend, who is a huge NBA fan, so yeah, sorry if any details are inaccurate lol. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! MDNI banner credit to @/cafekitsune. Header image from Pinterest (Slam Dunk manga).

“You have to pinky promise, okay?” Connie sticks his tiny finger out, wiggling it in front of your face, sucking on his cherry-flavored lollipop, lips and tongue-stained red. You’re both five years old, sitting cross-legged in the front of his yard, taking a break from playing hide-and-seek.

“What am I pinky promising?” you ask, voice squeaky and curious.

“That we’ll be best friends forever and ever! No matter what!” he exclaims, beaming at you with his eyes wide, twinkling earnestly. 

You only need to think for a few seconds before you’re hooking your pinky with his, committing to this promise for the rest of your lives. 

~~~

Ten years later, Connie makes it on the varsity basketball team in your high school. It’s rare for a freshman to make it to varsity at Ragako; the coaches must have seen that spark in him that you and his family have witnessed since he started playing at ten-years-old. You used to shoot around with him out in his driveway, where his father set up a little hoop. Eventually, the little one got upgraded to a real one, where the height was adjusted appropriately as Connie grew. You became his practice partner, no longer able to compete with him. Instead, you passed him the ball, watching in awe as he made shot after shot, sometimes deep from the street. He’d pick you up and spin you around, the two of you cheering together, impressed by his skills.

Year after year, he only improved. The way he handled the ball, expertly dribbling it between his legs, behind his back, one-handed, without looking. Or the way his feet gracefully shuffled along the court, the distinct squeak from his shoes echoing off the walls as you watch him on the bleachers, playing three-on-three against some of his buddies at the gym. One time, his friend Jean teases you. “You know, you should stop hanging around here or else people might think you’re his groupie.”

Before you can think of a smart comeback, Connie interjects, shoving Jean hard in the arm. “Hey! Leave her alone. I want her here. I only play like this when she’s around. And she’s not a groupie. She’s my best friend.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders, leading you towards the exit while Jean sputters apologies that go ignored. “Sorry about that,” he whispers to you. “Jean is an asshole. I want you around, got it? Forever and ever.”

You smile, leaning into him. “Forever and ever.”

~~~

It’s at the championship game during senior year that you realize that you’re in love with Connie.

Scouts have already contacted him about full-ride scholarships to university, recruiting him for their team. He’s the most celebrated point-guard in your school’s history, his average points and assists per game breaking records. Ever since he joined, your school has made it in the final round each year, last year resulting in a win, this year leading to a second. 

With seconds left on the shot clock, tie game, Ragako with possession, Connie makes his move. He inbounds the ball to his teammate, quickly taking position at the right wing, his sweet spot. As quickly as it leaves his hands, the ball is passed back to him. He shoots it, and as it flies out from his fingers into the air, the buzzer rings, and he makes it. The crowd goes wild; one side of the bleachers erupting into a frenzy, jumping up and down with excitement. Connie’s parents hug each other first, then surround you in their arms, elated. You don’t expect him to celebrate the win with you, not with his entire team huddling around him, splashing water on his head, cheering his name. Not with all the cheerleaders and fans gravitating toward him, eager to be in the presence of a sure-to-be star in the making. So, it surprises you when you see him maneuver his way through the crowd, heading straight towards you. He pounces on you, giving you the biggest, sweatiest hug with tears streaming down his face. It’s a split second where the surrounding noise goes blank and it’s just the two of you there, basking in each other’s warmth. Soon, his parents join you, also crying happily, and it’s in this moment that you realize this is where you want to be: with him. Forever and ever.

~~~

It's no surprise that the two of you attend the same college together. Most people will see it as you following him, but in actuality, Connie agrees to go wherever you go. Lucky for you both, your top choice is a D1 university where he’s offered a scholarship to play for their basketball team. It works out perfectly, as if it were meant to be. 

He’s busy from the get-go, practicing every day until the season starts in November. You become preoccupied with classes, and naturally, the two of you travel your different paths, meeting in the middle whenever you can. When the season official starts, you attend all his home games, cheering for him from the sidelines surrounded by the other students also chanting his name. Weeknights, he’s often too tired to hang out, retreating to his dorm room to fall asleep, only to repeat his busy schedule again the next day. He grows close with his teammates, spending most of his time with them instead of you, which is to be expected. After all, you and Connie are just friends. Sure, you’re completely and madly in love with him, but he’ll never know that. So, you watch from afar as he pursues his career without you in the way. It’s the way it has to be. 

By the time spring semester rolls around, you and Connie barely see each other. You’ll still text, sometimes video chat or talk on the phone. He mostly vents to you about teammates or coaches that have gotten on his nerves that day. He’ll catch you up on the other schools they’ve defeated or the ones that they’ve lost to. Your school’s record is quite good thanks to Connie, who’s only gotten better since high school. If they continue at this rate, they will win the conference tournament, meaning a trip to March Madness, the most prestigious competition in college basketball. Most importantly, it’s one step closer to the NBA.

As expected, the team does win the conference tournament. That night, the entire campus is lively with students buzzing in school spirit, ready to party the rest of the weekend. All you think about is calling Connie to congratulate him, hear his voice and tell him that you’re so proud of him. You debate with yourself for nearly fifteen minutes, staring at his name on your screen, fingers so close to dialing his number. You decide not to go through with it, certain that he’s too busy with his team, too busy with his fans. He’s not thinking about you, not when his whole world is about to change. And you can’t blame him; you’re just friends, and this is the way it has to be.

The following night, your school organizes an impromptu homecoming for the basketball team, welcoming them as they arrive on the bus, fresh from their championship win. They have a  couple days of rest before they leave for the NCAA tournament, but you’re sure they’ll be busy with press and practice until then. You’re not there to greet them when they step off the bus; instead, you’re sulking in your room, buried under the covers, feeling sorry for yourself for ever falling in love with Connie Springer. It’s a sad, pathetic sight, but at least you’re alone for the weekend to do it while your roommate is out visiting her boyfriend out of town. 

You’re surprised to see Connie’s name flash on your phone a few hours later. You let it ring twice before answering. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” he asks. There’s shuffling in the background, as if he’s walking outside. 

“I’m in my room.”

“I’m coming over now.” He hangs up, not giving you any time to respond. You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come.

When you open the door to let him in, he wraps his arms around you in a snug embrace. “I missed you.” He pulls off to hold you by the arms, glaring. “Why didn’t you greet me off the bus?”

“I…” you start, unsure how to respond. 

“I was looking for you and you weren’t there. Where were you?”

“I was studying in the library.” This might be the first time you’ve ever lied to him. You feel guilty and gross. 

“Oh,” he says sadly, still staring at you. 

“Congratulations, by the way. It was an amazing win.” You give him a weak smile, blinking away the tears welling in your eyes. You don’t even know why you’re crying; Connie did nothing wrong. You’re letting your emotions get the best of you, and you can’t help but crumble in front of the only person who knows you better than you know yourself. 

“I don’t care about that right now. I care about you. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Connie, I promise.”

“Don’t promise me shit like that. I know you’re upset. Tell me. Please.” His eyes search yours, desperate for an answer. 

You look at his feet, fixating on his shoes, scuffed on the sides from playing. Tears start to drop from your face and on the carpet. “I just…I missed you too. I miss you, Connie. I…I love you.” The confession slips from your mouth in a sniffle, and you’re so upset with yourself for letting it slide in this crucial moment. Neither of you needs the drama of your unrequited love right now. Not you, knowing he’ll be leaving again soon, and especially not him, who has bigger and better things to focus on. 

He gapes at you, stuttering, “You love me?”

You nod, biting your lip.

“Like, love love? Or love like a friend?”

You’re tempted to lie, just to make it easier. But you owe it to Connie to be honest with him. “Love love.”

His mouth is open, eyes bugging out, completely shocked by your admission. Before he can respond, you add, “I’m sorry, Connie. I shouldn’t have told you this right before the tournament, but…I don’t know. It just came out. I’m sorry.”

He stammers, “You’re sorry? This is the best fucking thing I’ve heard in my entire life.” He breaks into a smile, laughing hysterically, an even more bizarre reaction. 

You cross your arms, getting impatient with his ridiculous behavior, eventually grabbing his shoulders to shake him out of his fit. “Connie, what the hell?!”

He wipes his eyes, crying from giggling, beaming at you. “I’ve been in love with since we were kids. Been dreaming of hearing you say that since we were five-years-old.” He hugs you tightly, nuzzling his nose to the top of your head. “I love you and I want to be with you. Forever and ever, right?”

You nestle into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent you missed since he’s been gone. “Forever and ever.” 

~~~

The two of you spend the night together, making love for the first time. His lips are soft against yours, and you smile into his kiss, remembering the day you pinky promised that you’ll be best friends forever and ever, no matter what. His lips were stained red with cherry-flavored candy, looking sickly sweet as he smiled at you. And as you kiss him now, he tastes just as sweet as you imagined he’d be after all these years. 

You kiss him sloppy as you ride his lap, his cock buried deep in your pussy, filling you up to the brim. He moans your name into your mouth as he laps at the saliva collecting on your tongue, slurping your spit, swallowing it thickly. “Fuck,” he groans, hands gripped to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his thighs. “I’ve dreamed about this for so long, baby. So long.”

“Me too,” you whisper, starting to bounce on him, close to your climax. 

“What would you think about? Tell me,” he demands, thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing it raw.

You whine from his touch, increasing your pace, resting your head on his shoulder. “You and me, just like this,” you huff, short of breath. 

“Yeah? You thought about me deep inside you, huh? Fucking this sweet pussy until you come all over my cock, huh?” He thrusts up into you, grip tightening, fingers digging into your flesh. He’s close too, you can feel it.

You moan into his skin, sweat beading on your forehead, throwing your ass back against him in tandem with each pump of his cock. A few more strokes and the two of you come together, the mess spilling onto the sheets as soon as he pulls out. 

He wipes you down with tissues and baby wipes you have handy on your bedside drawer. As soon as you’re both clean, he cradles you in his arms, spooning you from behind. 

“I know this is going to sound super cheesy, but I truly feel like a winner now,” he says, kissing the nape of your neck. 

You chuckle, squeezing his hand in yours. “Wait until you win March Madness. Then you’ll really be a champ.”

“Even if I lose, I’ll still have you. And that’s been my dream all this time.” 

You shift your body to face him, gazing into his eyes. “I thought your dream was to make it into the NBA?”

He smiles, booping you on the nose. “It’s part of the dream, sure. But I wouldn’t be anywhere near where I am now if it wasn’t for you. You kept me going all these years. Knowing you were always on my side gave me the strength I needed to get here. As long as I have you, I’ll be living the dream.” He kisses you on the forehead. “I’m going to love you for the rest of our lives.”

“Forever and ever?”

“Forever and ever.”

~~~

In an upset, your school loses in the Final Four. It’s the furthest they’ve gotten in university history, and a large part of that is due to Connie and his extraordinary performance as their point guard. His efforts do not go unnoticed; his coaches and many prospective agents have contacted him, encouraging him to apply for the NBA draft. 

June of the same year, Connie Springer is drafted tenth in the first round and you’re sitting right beside him with his parents, cheering for him. Just as you have throughout all these years, and just as you will for the rest of your lives. Forever and ever. 

#connie springer #connie springer smut #connie springer x reader #connie springer x you #connie springer x y/n #Connie springer fluff #connie smut #connie x reader #Connie x you #aot smut #aot fluff #attack on titan fluff #attack on titan smut #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

[viridianevergarden]

“Elain is weak”

“Elain is plain”

“Elain is boring”

“Elain has no personality”

Really? I’m convinced that people either glaze over the page any time Elain’s name is mentioned or they completely forget out of their own ignorance and convenience.

(This is long so read at your own peril, mainly a lot of receipts from the books for proof)

This is where the internalized misogyny really becomes externalized at this point.

I mean- Elain is the epitome of the common woman at the moment. Of course she’s not some battle hardened warrior. Of course she’s not some head strong fighter that actively goes into the face of danger to save the day as a hero.

She’s a woman who wants a normal life, or at least, the most normal she can have it.

She wants to love and be loved by someone of her choosing. Thats normal.

She enjoys more “feminine” hobbies or activities. Thats normal.

She helps the people of velaris by acts of service. Thats normal.

She wants to help her family any way she can.

She is normal.

Normal is good. Normal is relatable.

I think that some people’s brains have been plagued by the case of “every female main character should be a strong warrior” disease and hate Elain because she doesn’t currently fit into that mold. Thus she’s deemed uninteresting.

They want another Feyre or Nesta copy out of her. They want her to wield a sword and have the power to dominate whole territories and rule a court or two. Yet Elain doesn’t want that.

But even then Elain isn’t weak. She’s not boring. Elain has a voice.

Every rose has its thorns to protect itself.

Here’s a few big examples:

ACoTaR, ch. 40

Context: The queens just left the sisters’ manor after their first negotiation.

And it was Elain—Elain—who sighed and murmured, “I hope they all burn in hell.”

Omg she cussed. Elain showing outward hatred and opening her mouth about it? That’s new.

ACoWaR, ch. 21

Context: About tracking the cauldron, Elain claimed she will find it if Nesta cannot. Nesta protested immediately.

“Why?” Elain demanded. “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

Elain cut in sharply, “I am not a child to be fought over.”

Elain finally bearing her fangs to Nesta? Nesta flinched at her words.

ACoWaR, ch. 74

Context: during the war, Elain saved Nesta and Cassian’s life from the King.

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

Weak huh? I mean if she was weak, I don’t think she would’ve wielded the blade. Let alone step out of a shadow with it. Yet she had the courage and will to do so. (She will protect what she holds dear even if it means she has to kill for it, even if she doesn’t like spilling blood or causing harm).

ACoFaS, ch. 18

Context: Feyre talking Elain about Lucien, Elain standing her ground on her decision.

Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them. “And that entitles him to my time, my affections?”

“He doesn’t know me.”

Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.”

She has boundaries and she sticks by them. What a surprise. Using her voice.

ACoFaS, ch. 58

Context: Nesta finally came to solstice on her own accord per Cassian’s request. Elain greeted her and pleaded that Nesta does not upset Feyre since it’s her birthday. Nesta cussed Elain out without a thought.

And then Elain burst out laughing. Howling, half-sobbing laughs that sent her bending over at the waist, gasping for breath.

Elain held up a hand, wiping her eyes with the other. “You’ve never said such a thing to me!” She laughed again.

Elain being elated that Nesta had the balls to cuss her out? To be mean to her? Must’ve been a breath of fresh air from the suffocating overprotection. If anything, I’d feel intimidated that she laughed. Confused like Nesta. Elain has never laughed like this before.

ACoSF, ch. 76

Context: Feyre on her death bed during childbirth.

And when Elain began praying to the Fae’s foreign gods, to their Mother, Nesta bowed her head, too.

Elain was desperate enough to pray to The Mother and the Fae gods for help. For comfort. Shows some semblance of development in her journey of acceptance of her new life. (I don’t know why people think she refuses to accept her new life, the NC is her home)

ACoSF, Azriel’s Bonus Chapter

Context: Solstice night, Elain gifts Azriel earplugs with a humorous meaning.

Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid.

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.”

Elain has the humor for making sex jokes lol.

• • •

I could continue adding more but I think you get the point now.

I don’t want her to be like Feyre.

I don’t want her to be like Nesta.

Elain has a voice and she has used it time and again.

She has plenty of character and I’m sorry if you don’t like it. She’s shown hatred, assertiveness, compassion, elation, acceptance, and humor throughout the series.

Just because she’s soft spoken and less combative than her sisters doesn’t make her any less than them.

No one can make you like a character except yourself. However, if you’re going to bash a complex character and say there’s no sustenance to her when she’s been shown to have obvious development and presence, then that’s an issue lol.

She’s a very fleshed out character and we haven’t even gotten to her story yet.

Even without military or magical prowess like her sisters, Elain has personality and I find that a lot of people including myself can definitely relate to her.

SJM merely set the stage for Elain.

All she needs to do is begin her Act.

#acotar #elain archeron #pro elriel #pro elain #when will the mischaracterization stop? #Elain is complex and dynamic #I don’t see why people think she’s a flat and unchanging character #a court of thorns and roses

[mccall-muffin]

The Lady and the Major - Part 3/3 // John "Bucky" Egan x OC

Summary: Bucky is gone. For Liz, a world fell apart. But being the daughter of a duke, there still are responsibilities.

Warnings: Language, loss, slight depression, family duties, family fight. FLUUUUFF

A/N: And now this little story comes to an end. It was fun :) Hope you enjoyed it!

Here is my Masterlist

Tags: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @mads-weasley, @brassknucklespeirs, @softguarnere, @shesgonna

London, Early 1944

The vibrant correspondence between Liz and Bucky, once a source of joy and anticipation for Liz, has fallen into a distressing silence since October 1943. Each letter she sent without receiving a reply added another layer to her growing concern and heartache. Liz's letters, once filled with playful banter and teasing affection, have grown more earnest, culminating in a confession of her deepening feelings for Bucky—a letter that, like its predecessors, remains unanswered.

The once lively spark in Liz's eyes has dimmed, noted by all who know her but most acutely by Mrs. Baxter, who has served the Cavendish family for years and has come to hold a particular fondness for Liz. It's a quiet afternoon when Mrs. Baxter finds Liz in the garden, her laughter at something in a book not quite reaching her eyes, a shadow of her usual vibrancy.

"Miss Elizabeth," Mrs. Baxter begins, her voice laced with concern, "you've been ever so down lately. It's not like you to let the world weigh on your shoulders. Is it that young American soldier? You've not mentioned him in quite some time."

Liz, caught off guard, closes her book, a sigh escaping her lips. "Yes, it's Bucky. I've not heard from him since October. I fear the worst, Mrs. Baxter. But part of me wonders... what if he's simply moved on? Or found someone else? Or worse..." Her voice is a mix of sadness and fear, the possibility of Bucky being gone forever a thought she can barely entertain.

Mrs. Baxter, wise in the ways of the heart and the harsh realities of war, shakes her head. "Miss Elizabeth, the way that boy wrote to you, I can't imagine him simply forgetting about you or finding another. It doesn't sit right. Why don't you write to his superior? Just to ask, to know for certain."

The suggestion stirs a turmoil within Liz. The thought of reaching out to Colonel Harding, of whom Bucky told her, is daunting, not only for fear of seeming desperate but also for the terrifying possibility that her worst fears might be confirmed—that Bucky is indeed lost to her, either through death or by a change of heart.

"But what if I find out he's..." Liz can't finish the sentence, the fear of Bucky's potential death choking her words.

"Miss Elizabeth," Mrs. Baxter says, taking Liz's hand in her own, "not knowing is a torment all its own. It's clear you care for him deeply and living in this limbo isn't fair to you. Writing to that Colonel might bring you the clarity you need to move forward, one way or another."

Liz contemplates Mrs. Baxter's words, the wisdom in them undeniable yet terrifying to act upon. The possibility of learning that Bucky is indeed gone is a reality she's not sure she's ready to face. Yet, the perpetual state of not knowing, of holding onto a thread of hope mixed with fear, is its own kind of purgatory.

After a moment of silent contemplation, Liz nods, a decision made. "You're right, Mrs. Baxter. I'll write to his Colonel. It's better to know than to spend my days wondering 'what if.'"

Mrs. Baxter squeezes Liz's hand reassuringly, offering a smile that's both encouraging and sympathetic. "Whatever the response, Miss Elizabeth, you won't face it alone. We're all here for you, always."

With a newfound resolve, albeit one shadowed by apprehension, Liz sets out to pen a letter to Colonel Harding, seeking the truth about Bucky's fate. It's a step fraught with the risk of heartbreak but also the only path toward peace, whether it leads to closure or rekindles a flicker of hope.

Dear Colonel Harding,

I hope this letter finds you well amidst the challenging circumstances that I know the brave men under your command face daily. I am writing to you with a heavy heart and a hopeful spirit, seeking information about Major John Egan, who I believe is (or was) under your esteemed leadership.

It has been several months since I last heard from Major Egan, and his silence is uncharacteristic and deeply concerning. We had been in regular correspondence until October of last year, after which all communication ceased abruptly. Understanding the nature of his duty and the risks involved, I am painfully aware of the potential reasons for his silence.

However, the not knowing has become a burden too heavy to bear, and so I find myself reaching out to you, Colonel, in hopes that you might be able to provide any information regarding Major Egan's status. It is my deepest hope that he is safe and well, but if that is not the case, I am prepared to face whatever truth there might be.

Major Egan spoke very highly of you and his fellow soldiers, and it is clear he holds great respect for the sacrifices and efforts of the 100th Bombardment Group. It is in this spirit of respect and concern that I reach out to you now.

Any information you can provide would be immensely appreciated, not only by me but by all who care for Major Egan.

I thank you in advance for your time and assistance in this matter and for your service to our countries. Please extend my gratitude and best wishes to the courageous men under your command.

Yours sincerely, Lady Elizabeth Cavendish of Wellington

Dear Lady Elizabeth Cavendish,

It is with a heavy heart that I write to you regarding Major John Egan. First, let me express my deepest gratitude for your kind words, the respect you've shown towards our unit, and the sacrifices made by our servicemen. It is the support and thoughtfulness of individuals like yourself that bolster our spirits in these trying times.

Regarding Major Egan, I regret to inform you that his plane was shot down during a mission over Münster, Germany, on October 10th. The circumstances were such that we have been unable to ascertain his whereabouts following the incident, and as of this moment, Major Egan is classified as Missing in Action (MIA).

This news is undoubtedly difficult to receive, and it is shared with the greatest sympathy and respect for your connection to Major Egan. Please know that our efforts to learn more about his status continue unabated, and any new information will be communicated to you as soon as possible.

Major Egan is remembered among his peers for his bravery, leadership, and the indelible mark he left on all who had the privilege of knowing him. In these challenging times, we hold onto hope and the belief in the resilience of the human spirit.

Should there be any way we can be of further assistance to you during this period, please do not hesitate to reach out.

With deepest sympathies, Colonel Neil B. Harding 100th Bombardment Group United States Army Air Forces

July 1945, Hyde Park, London

The park, with its sprawling greens and tranquil ambiance, serves as a refuge for her thoughts, a place where memories of Bucky feel both painfully close and achingly distant. As she walks beside Mrs. Baxter, her mind is only half-attuned to the conversation about her impending nuptials to Lord Henry Ashcroft, a man of good standing and disposition but whom Liz regards with a sense of resigned acceptance rather than love.

Lord Henry Ashcroft, chosen by her father, was a man of considerable charm and intellect, a diplomat who had spent much of the war negotiating on behalf of Britain. While Liz could appreciate his qualities and the comfort of their companionship, her heart remained untouched, locked away with the memories of a love lost too soon.

As Mrs. Baxter prattles on, Liz's attention is stolen away by a voice, a familiar timbre that cuts through the noise of the park and straight to her soul. "Planning your grand escape, Liz? Or just hiding out from all those wedding planners your father's set on you?"

The voice, unmistakably Bucky's, sends a shockwave through her. She turns, disbelieving, to see him leaning casually against a tree, that all-too-familiar smirk playing on his lips, his arms crossed as if he's been waiting for her all this time. For a moment, Liz is frozen, her heart caught between joy and disbelief.

"Bucky?" she breathes out, her voice a whisper lost in the wind. The world around her seems to come to a standstill, the chatter of the park fading into nothingness as she takes in the sight of him. He's thinner, the signs of his ordeal evident in his eyes, but it's unmistakably him.

Bucky pushes off from the tree, taking a few steps toward her with a grin. "In the flesh," he confirms, his eyes lighting up with the warmth she remembered so well. "I must say, I've had quite the adventure. But I always knew I had to find my way back to you, Liz."

Tears well in Liz's eyes as the reality of the moment washes over her. The pain of the past two years, the resignation to a life without him, suddenly lifts, replaced by a surge of hope and love so strong it leaves her breathless.

"But how? I thought you were—" Liz starts, unable to finish, the question hanging in the air, laden with the weight of untold stories of survival and loss.

"A POW," Bucky finishes for her, his voice softening. "It was... rough. But I never stopped thinking about you, Liz. Not for a single day. It's what kept me going, knowing I had to come back to see you again."

The revelation leaves Liz reeling, the pieces of her carefully constructed resolve crumbling under the weight of her emotions. Here, before her, stands the man she believed she had lost forever, a living testament to the resilience of hope and love.

Mrs. Baxter, sensing the magnitude of the moment, discreetly withdraws with the dogs, leaving Liz and Bucky alone in their bubble of reclaimed time.

Liz steps forward, the distance between them closing with each tentative step until she's close enough to touch, to confirm that he's real and not a figment of her longing imagination. Without a word, she reaches out, her hand trembling as it meets his cheek, the contact sparking a connection that time and circumstance had failed to sever.

"Bucky, I..." Liz starts, the flood of emotions rendering her speechless.

"Shh," Bucky soothes, wrapping her in his arms, his presence a balm to the scars left by war and separation. "We have time, Liz. All the time, we thought we'd lost. We'll figure this out together."

In the embrace of the man she never stopped loving, Liz allows herself to believe in the possibility of a future she had mourned as lost. Hyde Park, once a sanctuary for her solitary reflections, now bears witness to the resurgence of a love that survived against all odds, promising a new chapter for Liz and Bucky, one where 'what if' transforms into 'what is.'

In the opulent salon of Wellington House, the tension is palpable. The Duke of Wellington, a man of formidable presence and traditional values, paces the room, his anger reaching a fever pitch. The assembled group—Liz, her fiancé Henry Ashcroft, her brother Edward, her mother, and Bucky—watches in a mix of apprehension and disbelief.

"My daughter, marrying an American? A soldier with no title, no lands, no... no nothing!" the Duke bellows, his voice echoing off the walls, laden with centuries of history and tradition. "This is not a matter of mere preference, Elizabeth! It's about duty, about the legacy of the Cavendish name. An arrangement has been made with the Ashcrofts, a union that will benefit both our families."

Liz stands her ground, her resolve steeled by the love she has for Bucky, a love that has endured the trials of war and separation. "Father, I respect our traditions, but I cannot—I will not—marry a man I do not love. Henry is a fine gentleman, but my heart belongs to Bucky. I must marry out of love, not obligation."

Her plea falls on deaf ears. The Duke, red-faced and seething, turns his ire towards Bucky. "And you!" he accuses, pointing a finger at the soldier who has unwittingly become the center of the controversy. "Do you think you can just waltz in here and claim my daughter's hand? What do you have to offer her? You are a commoner, an outsider!"

Bucky, despite the hostility, remains calm, his respect for Liz and her family evident even in the face of the Duke's wrath. "Your Grace, with all due respect, I understand your concerns. I may not have titles or lands to my name, but I love your daughter and swear to devote my life to making her happy. Isn't her happiness worth considering?"

The Duke's response is a derisive snort. "Happiness? You speak of happiness in a world where lineage and alliances dictate our very existence. You are not suitable for Elizabeth. This... this farce ends now!"

Liz's mother and brother exchange troubled glances, the family torn asunder by the clash of duty and desire. Henry, for his part, remains silent, his own feelings a mixture of resignation and relief, having sensed Liz's lack of affection towards him.

The room falls silent as the Duke delivers his ultimatum. "Elizabeth, you will marry Henry Ashcroft as planned, or you will face the consequences. You will not defy the wishes of your family or the expectations of our society. This is not just about you; it's about the Cavendish legacy."

The weight of her father's words hangs heavy in the air, a gulf widening between tradition and the yearning of the heart. Liz, caught in the throes of an impossible choice, looks to Bucky, her eyes filled with a mixture of love, defiance, and the dawning realization of the sacrifices they must both be willing to make for a chance at a life together.

As she can't take it anymore, Liz flees the salon and her father and is quickly followed by her mother.

In the quiet aftermath of Liz's hurried departure, the salon becomes a stage for silent contemplation and uneasy alliances. As Henry speaks privately with the Duke, Edward shares a moment of understanding with Bucky, and the pieces of a complex puzzle begin to shift. The choices made in the hours and days to come will redefine the futures of all involved, setting them on paths none could have anticipated.

Edward, acknowledging Bucky's resolve with a nod, breaks the silence. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Facing down the old man is no small feat," he comments, a hint of respect threading through his words.

Bucky, his determination unwavering, responds with a sincerity that speaks volumes of his experience and the depth of his feelings for Liz. "I've seen too much, lost too much, to not fight for what truly matters. Liz... she's changed everything for me. This time in captivity, it made me realize life's too short for regrets. I need to spend mine with her, no matter what."

Edward sighs, a look of understanding crossing his features. "I get it, I really do. But you must understand our world... it's governed by rules, by expectations that have bound families like ours for centuries. It's a tangled web."

Meanwhile, in Liz's room, the atmosphere is thick with desperation and the weight of impending decisions. Her mother, the Duchess, attempts to provide comfort, but Liz's turmoil runs too deep for simple reassurances. "I can't do it, Mother. I can't marry Henry knowing that Bucky is alive and the one I love. It would be a lie, a life built on pretense. I'm not like you; I can't hide my feelings or live a lie."

The Duchess, faced with her daughter's anguish, feels a pang of sorrow for the constraints their world imposes. She knows the Duke's stubbornness all too well, his unwavering commitment to duty and legacy. Yet, in her heart, she understands Liz's longing for genuine happiness. With a heavy heart, she reveals the only solution she sees.

"There is one way, Elizabeth. You must elope with Mr. Egan. It's the only path to true happiness if you're sure he's the one. Your father... he may never forgive you, but this is your life, and you must choose how to live it. But you have to know, if you decide on this, there is no coming back."

The suggestion of elopement, radical and fraught with the risk of scandal and estrangement, hangs in the air like a lifeline amidst stormy seas. It's a testament to the lengths to which love compels individuals to go, challenging the very foundations upon which their lives are built.

For Liz, the idea is both terrifying and liberating. The prospect of defying her family, of stepping outside the protective yet confining boundaries of her world, is daunting. Yet, the chance to build a life with Bucky, to embrace the love they share, is a beacon of hope in the darkness of her predicament.

As the vast expanse of the Atlantic stretches out before them, the cold ocean breeze tangles through Elizabeth's hair, a stark contrast to the warmth of Bucky's arms around her. His kiss on her cheek is a gentle reminder of the new reality they've stepped into together—a world away from the grandeur of Wellington House, a future uncertain but theirs to shape.

Bucky's voice, filled with affection, breaks the silence. "You sure you're okay with this, Lizzie? Leaving everything you've known... for me?"

Turning to face him, Liz's eyes meet his, shining with a resolve that belies any lingering doubts. "Bucky, I've never been more sure of anything in my life. With you, I have everything I need. You are my home now."

Bucky's smile in response is one of relief and love, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. "Liz, you've given up so much. I promise you, I'll spend every day making sure you never regret this decision."

Their conversation, intimate against the backdrop of the vast ocean, is a testament to the strength of their bond, a love that has transcended societal norms and the expectations of their respective worlds.

Flashback: In Liz's room, the Duchess's hands are steady as she helps pack the bags, her face a mask of resolve. "Remember, you're stronger than you think, Elizabeth. You're making a brave choice, for love. That's something I've always admired in you." As Bucky is led into Liz's room through the servants' corridors, his eyes quickly find Liz, his expression a mixture of surprise and admiration. "Lizzie, are you sure? This means leaving everything behind—your family, your title..." Liz steps close, her hands finding his. "I've never been more certain of anything, Bucky. As long as I'm with you, I'm where I belong." Her mother's voice, soft yet urgent, interrupts their moment. "You must hurry, my dears. And be careful." Handing Liz some money, she adds, "This should help you get started." She puts her arm on Bucky's. "Take care of my daughter." Bucky nods. "I will. Always." The goodbye is swift, a final embrace shared with her mother before Liz and Bucky slip out into the night, embarking on their journey towards a new life.

As Liz reaffirms her commitment, Bucky's eyes soften, the weight of her sacrifice not lost on him. "Lizzie, you're my world. I'll make sure you have all the happiness you deserve."

Their kiss, passionate and full of promise, seals their vow to each other. As they stand there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the future unfurls before them—not as a path laid out by lineage or duty, but as a journey they'll navigate together, bound by love and the shared courage to defy expectations for the chance at true happiness.

"We're in this together, every step of the way. I love you, now and forever," Bucky whispers, his words carrying the weight of an oath, a pledge of a lifetime together, against all odds.

And Liz, gazing into the horizon, her heart full, knows that no matter what challenges they may face, their love will be their guiding light. "I love you too, Bucky. Here's to our new beginning."

#Masters of the Air #MoaT #John Egan x OC #Bucky Egan x OC #John Egan x reader #Bucky Egan x reader #John Bucky Egan #BoB #Callum Turner #Sorry not sorry

[marzmeltdown]

Honey Whiskey

⌦ Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader ⌦ Word Count: 1.96k

⌦ Genre: Smut (MDI) ⌦ Warning(s): Use of alcohol, drunken sex (both consensual, please drink responsibly), use of pet names(darling, baby, doll) fingering, mc has a vagine but other than that they're gender fluid, oral (f receiving), sex against the wall,, kinda, its against a door, pining, slight choking, again, kinda, unprotected sex (be safe pls), Jisung finishes inside(but it's implied that mc is safe from harboring any passengers inside their body), walk of shame. ⌦ Summary: You go to a college party with your friend expecting to have anything but a good time, until you meet man who turns your dreaded night into something to be remembered. ⌦ A/N: This fic is loosely based off of Honey Whiskey by Nothing But Thieves, and by loosely I just mean the title. It has also been a very long time since I've written fanfiction, let alone smut, so bare with me. With that being said, if you have any suggestions, please feel free to send them my way :)

If you had to choose between sitting through a chemistry exam without having studied any of the material or going to a party with your best friend Yeji, you would have chosen the former of the two. Regardless of your unwavering dislike for the party scene, your best friend successfully dragged you to your university's end-of-year party. The scent of cheap alcohol, sweat, and throw-up mixed together to make a nose-curling smell that seemed to linger no matter what end of the frat house you stood at.

"Y/N! Come on and dance with me!" Yeji whined as she tugged on your left arm, your right holding onto the red Solo cup with some kind of beer that you had been nursing all night.

"Yeji, you know I don't like to dance," you whined back, not moving from your spot in the corner. At this point, you were sure you had grown roots where you stood; you'd been there so long. After what felt like forever, though it was only two minutes, you looked at Yeji's glossed-over puppy-dog eyes and sighed. Your best friend had such a talent for getting her way. "Fine, let me just set this down somewhere…"

"Why don't you just chug it?" Yeji asked, her hands still holding onto your left while she looked at the cup that was only a quarter of the way full.

You looked at the yellow, carbonated drink in your hand and then back at your friend, a look of disgust making its way to your face as you pondered drinking the rest of the beer. You'd been tipsy already, Yeji having successfully filled your stomach with liquid that could only be described as fruit-flavored rubbing alcohol.

Sighing, you lifted the red plastic cup to your lips as you took a deep breath through your nose, either for confidence or to prevent yourself from gagging; you weren't sure. You looked at your best friend one last time before letting your jaw open, inviting the beer into your mouth.

It didn't take long for you to finish the cup, setting it on a random surface before joining your friend in the sea of sweat and glitter-covered college-aged adults. To say you weren't enjoying yourself at least a little bit would be a lie. Once you and Yeji began dancing together, it felt nice to let loose a little, even if you were out of your element.

You jump ever so slightly when a hand places itself on the small of your waist, and the body to which the hand belonged swayed to the music alongside you. You turn your head ever so slightly, seeing that the mysterious hand and body belong to one of the cutest boys you have ever had the pleasure to dance with. Han Jisung.

If Jisung had gripped at your waist with that much fervor any other day, you would have harshly pushed him away before ranting to Yeji and Tzuyu about how college men are disgusting and cannot keep their hands to themselves. But today wasn't like any other day; today you were a completely different person in a completely different situation, and the look of approval along with the two thumbs up given to you by your friend reassured that you were indeed having a good time.

Had someone told you that you would be sleeping with Han Jisung at some party, a more popular person at your university. Or as popular as one can be in college. You would have told them that they were stupid before rolling your eyes to hide the blush your cheeks would have contained in that moment.

Jisung didn't waste any time as he dragged you to an empty bedroom at the end of the hallway. Your back was pressed against the door as Jisung's hands hungrily roamed along your body. His lips connected themselves to your own, pulling a small moan from your throat when his teeth pulled against your bottom lip.

He smirked as your small mewl of pleasure reached his ears, and your stomach tensed as his hands moved themselves from your waist and to the hem of your shirt. "May I?" He asked against your lips, pausing his movements all together until you gave him the okay to continue.

You nodded, allowing your hands to wrap themselves around his neck, pulling him closer—if that were even possible—as your hands found their way into his black locks.

"Please..."

With a whisper of approval coming from your lips, Jisung lifted your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to an unknown location in the room. The male you held tightly in your grip ripped his own shirt off, tossing it to the floor alongside your own shirt as he leaned into your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh.

Jisung's hands found their way to your nipples, taking the hardening buds in between his pointer and thumb, rolling and tugging gently at the beads. You couldn't help but let out another whine when from the stimulation your nipples were receiving, gasping once more when Jisung moved his thigh in between your own.

Almost instinctively, you began rolling your hips along his clothed thigh, more whines and whimpers falling from your mouth as your swollen clit rubbed against the seam of your jeans with every thrust of your hips against his thigh. Your hands dug themselves deeper into Jisung's hair, tugging ever so gently, earning you a groan from your partner in response.

You felt Jisung's hands reach down to unbutton your pants, pulling down the denim fabric, and you stepped out of the pants that lied around your ankles, kicking them to join the two shirts that had been discarded earlier. Jisung reached to grope your chest once more as he kissed his way to your soiled panties.

A smirk found its way to the other's lips as he came face to face with the heat that was growing hotter the longer he teased. You couldn't help the blush of embarrassment or how your hands instinctively hid the new shade of red your face had adorned. Jisung noticed your embarrassment, his hands trailing up the thigh he had placed on his shoulder only a few moments ago, in an attempt to ease your nerves. His lips followed the trail his hands led, leaving small kisses along the way.

"Jisung, please..."

You weren't sure what you were begging for, but the chuckle that left your partners lips made you certain that you wanted him to touch you.

"Please what, darling?" Jisung asked against your thigh, his trail of kisses stopping right at the hem of your panties. He looked at you, as if he were waiting for consent once more, though this time he was waiting for you to elaborate on your plead.

"Please touch me," you whined. Your whining seemed to flip a switch inside of Jisung's head as his hands pulled your panties off your body whilst his mouth latched itself to the swollen bead of nerves that had been longing for attention. His mouth wasted no time sucking your clit against his lips, every few seconds he would dip lower and lick against your entrance with the hunger of a man who'd been deprived a nutritious meal for far too long.

Your hands flew to latch themselves against his hair, tugging on it each time Jisungs tongue dipped into the caves of your opening. He groaned at your taste, slipping a finger into your hole as his tongue focused on your clit as he pumped his finger in and out of your hole.

The stimulation from Jisung's fingers and tongue caused your back to arch against the door you had been pinned against from the moment it was shut and locked. Your hole clenched around his fingers as your slick ran down your thighs, you tugged at Jisung's hair once more as the coil inside your stomach began to tighten.

"Jisung.. Fuck me! Fuck me, please!" You begged, pulling the man up by his hair so you could kiss him. Jisung grunted against your lips, and watching you taste yourself on his tongue made his painfully hard cock twitch inside his pants.

"So impatient," Jisung teased against your lips. Using the speed of a madman and the strength of a thousand men, he threw his pants down, hoisted you up, and wrapped your legs around his waist. You whined in response, gripping the flesh of his back as you felt Jisung inch his way into your entrance.

When he bottomed out, he waited for you to adjust, and only when you nodded your head did he start thrusting his hips up into your own. Your moans sounded like music to the man's ears, one hand gripping at the fat of your thigh while the other held your chin in place, turning your head to the side so he could mark your neck up with bite marks.

As Jisung's thrusts turned into rough pounding, hitting that sweet spot inside of your spongy walls, you threw your hand up to your mouth, covering the unholy noises coming from your mouth. You were snapped out of your trance as your hand found itself pinned to the door behind you.

"I wanna hear you, baby."

Jisung whispered into your ear, the hot air sending shivers up your spine as Jisung intertwined his fingers with your own. The noises that were coming from your mouth would make a nun blush, and the words you spoke would prevent you from looking anyone in the eyes in a normal setting.

"F-Fuck! Jisung, right there! Please!" You whined, feeling your hole flutter and clench around Jisung's cock, the cord that had once been left to dissipate now binding itself up in your stomach again. Your legs began to shake from the pounding you were receiving from Jisung.

"Fuck, keep doing that, and I'm not going to last much longer," Jisung grunted into your ear. The way his thrusts began to falter and his cock twitched inside your walls, you could tell he was just as close as you were.

"I'm close!" you mewled, using your free hand to manoeuvre the man's face to your own in attempts to kiss him once more. The action couldn't be considered a kiss in a literal sense, however, not with the amount of teeth and nose clashings you two had shared.

"Cum on my cock, doll," Jisung whispered against your lips. Those words were enough to send you over the edge, a wanton moan leaving your lungs as you came. Your finish running its course down Jisung's cock finally pushed him over the edge. He thrusted three more times before he came, riding out his high while simultaneously fucking his cum back into you.

Once he slowed his thrusts to a halt, he stood there for a second, the both of you panting as though you had just run a marathon. You slumped yourself against Jisung's shoulder as he pulled out, letting your legs fall to the floor again. It felt odd, holding onto Jisung like that, but it was a nice feeling. As soon as you gathered your strength, you pulled away from him, trying desperately to locate your clothing.

"Y/N! I was worried; you were gone for so long!" Yeji gasped, hugging you tightly as you shamefully walked down the steps to the party that seemed to have only gotten bigger since you and Jisung had enjoyed each other's company. You blushed heavily, looking up at the man who'd taken you from your best friend long enough for her to worry. Either Yeji was too shitfaced to notice the purple marks that littered your neck or she was saving you the embarrassment; either way, you were relieved that she didn't say anything.

#stray kids #stray kids smut #skz #stray kids fanfic #han jisung #jisung skz #jisung fic #jisung scenarios #jisung smut #changbin #lee know #chan skz #seungmin #hyunjin #jeongin #han jisung x reader #han x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #jisung x reader smut #han x reader smut #skz smut

[crystalaris]

This was massively inspired by @novanitee

I have to say I loved a lot of your Yandere Moonknight stories and couldn’t help but wonder how a Yandere would react to someone who doesn’t want to leave and one who’s happy to stay. So if I’m being honest this was more for me, but I loved how it turned out. I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved your stories

Leaving Isn't an Option

Yandere Moonknight x OC

It's not so bad, being stuck here.

And 'stuck' is the right word.

I'm not really trapped, per say, just... encouraged to stay put.

Which is easy, it's not like I did anything else before. Go to work, pay the bills, cook, repeat.

Life was monotonous and very, very lonely.

I'm not sure when, where or even how I ended up in the world of Moon Knight. Or even the Marvel Universe. I didn't really get out much, didn't really have a reason to.

Just a boring and lonely existence.

Maybe it was wishing something would happen.

Maybe it was staring at the moon and quoting, "Second Star to the right and Straight on till Morning." Never really knowing if the star was my right or the moon's right because it's never been specified.

But something happened.

Something shifted.

I was no longer there, but here.

Which I understand makes absolutely no sense, but it happened without my knowledge and my days went on like normal.

I've never watched the news, it always felt misleading.

Never bothered with facebook, FarmVille had long since become boarding and redundant. Who waits 4 hours of real life time for one patch of strawberries to grow?

I wasnt going to spend five dollars on speed enhancers.

Never really called my parents, they finally got the kids out of their house? Why would they want to see me?

I've only ever talked to my fellow fan fiction writers and readers on Discord, but we all were focused on our mutual love for Undertale. So not really friend friends, but also not not friends.

Weird, believe me I know.

So absolutely no real reason to leave except for food and the extremely rare occasion for eating out.

I had no real reason to even suspect being on someone's radar.

I had never been and forever assumed I would never be.

Friends and acquaintances? Easy.

Family? Yeah, well you either have them or you don't.

Lovers? What's that? Can you eat it? ...Ew, on second thought don't answer that. Please.

So really, my life wasn't't anything special.

Or shouldn't have been anything special.

My life changed when I had decided I didn't want to cook that day. So I went to a Burger King next to a Starbucks. Simple.

Fill up on the fries and drink, have a burger for breakfast, all for a debatable price of 10 dollars.

Again nothing special.

A sit-down would be expensive and would remind me just how alone I was.

I guess I was pretty predictable, always going to the same places to eat or shop, but I never really noticed.

Never really cared.

Not until he, well I should really say 'they' , pointed it out. And they never pointed it out until they made sure I could never leave, which again I don't really mind.

I met them, him when I walked out the door accidentally spilling iced coke all over the poor guy.

Apologizing profusely, I had offered to buy him lunch as an apology, its not like I could buy the guy a new shirt.

I'm somewhat surprised I didn't recognize him to begin with, sure he looked familiar and his name was Steven, but what really should have sold it was the fact that Steven with a 'V' was Vegan.

Though I was more surprised that Burger King had vegan options, the impossible burger? Really?

I guess its in the name. Still, shocking, both the burger and my own stupidity.

But I liked him.

He was nice, well muscled, dark hair (that was my weakness, those cheating bastards) and polite.

Honestly, what wasn't there to love? We talked. A lot.

I was pretty thrilled when he shyly asked for my number. I thought 'Why not? It'd be nice to have a friend again.' And we traded phones, I never noticed him activate the tracking part of the phone.

I probably shouldn't have been so lazy and trusting (Jake has lectured me a lot on that, really that sweet worry wart) handing Steven my phone, in my defense I've never had to worry about that.

Steven once told me he finally understood why Marc and Jake had wanted to protect his innocence once they had met me.

Others probably would have been offended, me? I was honored and kissed him.

It was... nice, having someone to talk to, someone to text.

Someone I could just be me.

Steven would send these really cute or funny history bits, mostly Egyptian, sometimes complaining that gods can be annoyingly demanding.

Again, I should have noticed, but really would you notice? Or even care too? We all complain about god.

Looking back, I feel like my past self was one of those side characters on Doctor Who that never noticed aliens or the blue police box.

To be fair, its easier to notice things when they don't happen to you. Still makes me feel stupid though.

I never really found it odd that we kept meeting up when ever I was out shopping, passing it off as coincidence time and time again.

Sure there were times I felt someone watching, but every time there was no one following me.

Sure there was a feeling or two that made me glance over my shoulder a few times just to check, but then Steven would show up and it would stop.

Which was extremely relieving, having Steven by my side. After a while it turned stressful without Steven there to shop with. I tried not to, but calling him and asking if he'd like to shop together made the day that much better, that much less lonely.

It was on one such day, after feeling a piercing stare and finding nothing, that I ended up laying my head on his shoulder with a sigh of relief.

Of course I removed it with a shit load of apologies. But to my utter amazement, after he got over his shock, he just smiled and gently placed my head back on his shoulder.

"Are you sure?" I asked, again still a bit worried.

His smile was so gentle, so sweet, so warm, "Of course, luv." And placed his arm around my shoulder. Heaven could never have such forbidden fruit.

I, gladly, soaked up as much as I could.

Steven could be the nectar of the gods with his sweetness, he laughed quite happily when I told him that once, well it was a mumble, but still... true.

We didn't just shop together, I rather enjoyed inviting him over so he could teach me some vegan recipes.

Being with Steven made life, easier.

It was easier to breathe, to enjoy breathing again. I wasn't just moving through the motions of life, I was Living again.

I could actually look forward to tomorrow.

And when tomorrow came, Steven asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend.

I was flummoxed.

Me? Steven wanted me?

I didn't know it but Jake was rather close to fronting and yelling at me for daring to hurt sweet Steven, when I hadn't answered soon enough.

Tears had slowly fallen from my eyes and Steven nearly went into a panic seemingly about to apologize when I softly asked, "Me? Are you sure?"

It was the first time anyone had ever asked. Had ever looked at me.

His smile could have melted gold, easily shattering my shields, ones I never knew had surrounding my heart.

It burned, but somehow in a good way, still it was too much and I looked away.

He had to cup my cheeks in his hands, getting me to look at him. His thumb wiping away a stray tear, "I would love that, luv. Would you be willing to be mine?"

Choking back a sob, "No one... no one ever... ever... no one's ever wanted me."

I couldn't help leaning into his gentle touch, missing the frown that formed, but he quickly wiped it away from their face, "Not like that anyway. I've...I've had a few crushes, but nothing ever..."

I couldn't help looking into his eyes, practically begging for this to not be a dream, searching for even a hint of a lie.

I searched his face, soft and gentle, "Are...are you sure you want me?"

"Oh, baby girl of course we want you."

I wailed clutching him tighter as he leaned me on to his shoulder, as he shushed me rocking me back and forth, " I've got you, baby girl. Shhhh. We've got you. Shhh" years of pain, anguish, want flowed into those tears. "Let it out, mi amor. Let it all go."

I didn't leave his arms that night, or even that weekend. We refused to let go of each other. Sometimes the grips were tighter, or stronger but all it felt like was safety and home. I didn't want them to let go.

I was wanted.

I was happy for the first time in forever.

It nearly tore me apart watching them walk away, but I did have work in the morning.

Work had never been such a drag until then.

It physically hurt to be away from Steven, so I did the one thing I could think of. I went to the hardware store after work.

As much as it hurt not to ask Steven to come I wanted it to be a surprise, but like always I felt those eyes boring into me. It made me want to call Steven, but... but picturing his, hopefully, happy face? I could deal with the discomfort.

The feeling didn't stop, at least I think it didn't, I'm not sure when it did but the older clerk behind the counter had smiled when she saw my fidgeting, "Ah, someone special?"

I could only blush violently and nod my head nervously. Her smile widened, "What a lucky man." She reached behind the counter, and started running the machine.

"Well, ...he's my, my first... so..." my nerves were eating me alive, but it'd be worth it.

"Really?" She looked surprised as the lady looked me up and down, "When I'm glad. You seem like a sweet young lady." The clerk chittered on.

It was nearly ten minutes of constant chattering as the clerk milked me for information.

I didn't really want to brag, didn't want to jinx it, but it felt good to share.

It felt good to smile.

The clerk watched on with a warm smile of encouragement as I called my boyfriend, biting my bottom lip as she handed it over and I placed the small box into my pocket.

-click-

" 'Ello?"

Swallowing nervously, "Steven?'

"Luv?" He sounded a bit worried.

"Yeah, ah hi. I was wondering..." I couldn't stop tapping my fingers on my leg just to use some of my extra energy. Steven, sweet, sweet Steven just patiently hummed, "if you wouldn't mind coming over? Please."

Not even noticing the man walking away on the phone two isles down.

"Sure I wouldn't mind luv."

"Great" I squeaked before quickly repeating it in a more normal voice, " See you in a few"

"See you in a few, luv."

-click-

Letting out a large breath, I turned and thanked the clerk as I handed over the money with a smile on my face, "Thank you."

"No thank you for making this old lady's day. I wish you luck."

I couldn't hold back my chuckle, "And I wish you a good week of good customers."

That made her laugh as she handed me change, "Ah, I see, another fellow retailer?"

"Yeah, first few years of college were horrible."

"Say no more." She said with a smile on her face.

I returned it, "Again, thank you."

"It's no trouble, now go on, shoo!" She waved her hands, "you've got a boy to gift. Shoo!"

I laughed on my way out, feeling happy and hopeful.

A great day indeed.

It turned into an even better day when Steven opened the box to reveal my new extra house key.

I didn't see the kiss coming, "It's absolutely beautiful, baby girl."

Completely shocked, missing how his accent had dropped as I touched my lips a deep blush forming. "What? Baby girl, what is it?"

Looking up, I blushed deeper catching a glance of his lips before staring into those deep eyes, they were the same, yet they somehow held more.

"That- that was my first..." I squeaked.

"Oh, oh!" I never noticed as he held me closer, leading me into a hug as Steven glared daggers at the reflection.

(Jake was so proud, both at Marc's kiss and Stevens glare. His boys were growing a backbone!).

"I'm so sorry, luv!"

I couldn't help hugging him back, squeezing a bit before asking, "Could, could we... again?"

This made him smile as he leaned back and looked into my eyes with his warm, ice melting ones, "Sure."

The second one was warm and comforting, the third became ruff and deep and I couldn't help loving all of them, I felt wanted, I felt loved again.

This man was slowly becoming my entire world.

And everyday he would come over after work.

Everyday he would kiss me at least three times, each with there own flare, each with their own intensity and still I greedily accepted each and every one.

— — —

They, well Steven had been dating her for months, with Jake and Marc coming out on occasion. She never seemed to notice or if she did she brushed it off.

They loved her, they really did, but sometimes he wished she would notice. Wish she'd ask questions, it'd make it much easier to come clean.

Though Marc seemed to enjoy the lack of in his words, 'unnecessary' questions. Jake bemoaned the fact that she was so oblivious.

This may have started with an order from Khonshu, but it had become an obsession over time.

Layla was a strong woman and Marc had loved her in his own way. Marc's ex was strong alone, could easily, has easily fought confidently, side by side with Marc and Steven, but she and Jake clashed, each just as bull headed as the other, making a relationship a bit difficult with the three.

Plus Jake wasn't happy when Layla had smacked Marc across the face.

Marc had defended her saying he deserved it since he left, but Jake refused to let Layla be alone with Marc or Steven.

Deserved or not, if she did it once she would do it again and Jake refused to leave his boys defenseless.

He knew Marc and Steven wouldn't fight against Layla, Jake however...

So the three were just friends, while Jake only tolerates Layla for his boy's happiness. Sure they were sad at the end of the relationship, but Jake knew they deserved better. It's why he stayed as Khonshu's Avatar (and boy was that a shit show when he had dropped the beans, they forgave him and moved on. He really does love them.)

So when an order came to watch someone who doesn't belong in this world, all three went, each curious in their own way.

They would admit the woman was... ... ...boring?

Normal?

Well, she didn't seem like she was any different, but hey Harrow fell off the deep end why can't she?

So they watched and watched, it was an order, an easy order but an order none the less until Khonshu deemed her to be just another pathetic worm that no longer needed their attention.

They... didn't really stop.

They had noticed her schedule, had memorized it to the point they ended up following it subconsciously.

If anyone was to blame it was entirely the god's fault.

Steven thought she was sweet.

Marc noticed how lonely she felt.

Jake saw.

Saw how she was withering away, how she practically begged for protection.

Jake really liked how she seemed to sense them, liked how she trusted her instincts, weak as they were she still had them.

She was a walking contradiction in some ways.

She kept her head down and avoided people, avoided being seen, but they saw her.

They watched her.

They noticed how she seemed to hide and it flared all of their protective instincts.

Originally it was a way to pass time.

They didn't really need to work for money anymore, they had plenty and Khonshu had them take certain jobs, and if Jake could get some money out of it, then all the better.

Steven never really liked the 'blood' money, but Jake and Marc refuse to let Steven get stuck in retail or with another piece of trash boss again.

(Donna is still lucky to be alive, the two are still waiting for the perfect time. Its not murder if something just 'happens' right?)

But Steven didn't mind watching her, so they compromised.

Watching her for the day, and working with Khonshu at night (they slept when she went to work, no biggie).

At first it wasn't hard to leave for Khonshu's 'trips', but it became harder as time passed on.

Soon returning ended up as their priority and Khonshu could careless so long as the job was done.

Since Marc and Steven wanted the job done just as much to get back, Khonshu didn't really have any complaints, "Apparently even a worm has its uses."

He was dutifully ignored.

They wanted to get to know her, to be apart of her life.

And if she broke their heart? Well, Jake would take care of it.

All three had found something in her that they enjoyed.

For Steven, she was sweet (Hah! Told you guys so!) and so welcoming. She enjoyed listening to him and both genuinely enjoyed the documentaries that Marc and Jake became bored to death with. Even making a game of it at one point when she started explaining why one documentary was wrong, elaborating each point and encouraged him to do the same.

Marc, well Marc loved all the cuddles and how she showed that she cared (for Steven) making food and learning recipies together, always finding a way to touch. And just leaning on them in general.

It helped that she never pried or asked for more information. If she did and he said 'no' she dropped it unlike Layla, and would always remind him she was there if he wanted.

It was refreshing if Marc was being honest.

Jake rather enjoyed how she depended on him (them). She would tense up when they watched her from afar, like he said she had instincts.

He really liked when she started calling them every time she even felt remotely scared. Jake loved how she would lean on them for comfort and melt into their embrace after that first time.

It felt good to be needed in subtle ways.

She would ask for their opinions, but would also ask why instead of just obeying. He liked the little arguments, they were fun and unlike with Layla she didn't get violent when angry, just puffed out her tiny little cheeks, ardilla listada (chipmunk) he had called her and she responded with Qué?

"¿Asi que hablas espanol?"

"en inglés por favor"

He barked out a laugh and he loved the way her eyes sparked as she nailed the accent, all three were rather impressed.

"No."

"Sí"

"No"

"Sí!"

Jake, over all, enjoyed her spunk.

He did however nearly lose it when Steven asked her to be their girlfriend and she didn't respond, she nearly broke their hearts, but then it broke for another reason entirely.

She cried because nobody had wanted her.

And, well, that just sealed the deal, she wouldn't leave them, ever.

They'd never allow it.

If only they could get her home, right now.

...but even a starving predator is patient. So they settle for just holding her tightly in their arms, each taking their own turn, but refusing to let go.

Leaving was one of the hardest and yet the most satisfying things they have ever felt.

And Damn, it hurt to leave, but the way she refused to let them out of her sight, the way they could feel her eyes on them?

They had never walked so slow before, never looked back to her window so much. It was amazing to know she didn't want them to leave as much as they didn't want to leave.

So imagine their rage when she was late returning home from work.

Oh, they wouldn't have been worried (they were) since they followed her phone to the hardware store.

If she was mugged it'd be the last thing the asshole would ever know.

When it turned out she was the one to make a side trip, Oh they were pissed.

They loved her, but she should have, no needed to be home with them, she shouldn't have left! Job or no.

Jake wondered if it was too soon to dish out a bit of punishment. They really didn't like how the lady looked at their girl.

Jake did, however, settle a bit when he saw how she looked around and fingered her phone, the other two noticed as well and calmed down, just a bit.

It helped to know she was still thinking of them, still she needed to be at home.

They chose an isle that was close enough to hear them, but still had the perfect view of their girl. Tense shoulders relaxed as their discussion went on.

So imagine their surprise when they answered the call. When Steven met them and was handed a personal gift.

She was definitely forgiven.

And in a way, it allowed each of them to come out. To show themselves to her.

She eagerly accepted their affection and they couldn't be more thrilled.

She was their innocent bean.

———

An: how she came here and how it ends I leave that up to you. Personally I’m a sucker for happy endings

#fan fiction #jake lockely x oc #jake lockely x reader #khonshu #marc spector #marc spector x oc #marc spector x reader #steven grant x oc #steven grant x reader #yandere #fluff #jake lockely fluff #marc spector fluff #Steven grant fluff #fluffy Yandere #it’s not sad #oneshot #transmuted

[the-s1lly-corner]

hii can i request smth for kinger crushing on reader? like how he acts with a crush and if/how he confesses :)

if youve already done this, feel free to disregard!

Kinger crushing on the reader!

woowowowoooo going to answer this and go stretch my legs because theyve decided to start doing the weird crampy locky thing they do something grrgrrgrrr ive noticed it gets worse when i take my melatonin; so i think im going to have to stop taking that for a while to see if its.. tied that aside i hope you enjoy anon!

you know how i always mention in my writing for kinger that he follows you around in order to keep an eye on you? yeah i think this is where that really picks up... like yeah before he was already doing it, but now hes REALLY attached to you and he really wants to make sure youre safe

can see him being fairly sheepish when it comes to coming to you and trying to flirt... i think whether hes a good flirt varies on the day, either it falls flat or it really blows you away... whether youre the oblivious type though... thats up to you....... i dont think he would notice you flirting back, though

comes to you to talk about his interests more than ever before, unintentionally and unconsciously trying to fight for your attention by rambling about bug facts and talking about his experiences in the circus

likes escorting you around the circus, and to your room and around the grounds and- okay you get the point, this kind of feeds back into the first point, but this time hes actually trying to walk with you and talk with you! so hey theres some progress there!

i do think there would be some complicated feelings inside of him, though. hes a widow, you know? he lost his wife, abstracted, and the wound isnt exactly... fully healed, so theres the feelings that come with the grief as well as these new fostering feelings and the possible guilt that can sprout up from it.... i think this might feed into him needing some more time before he tries to make the first move let alone asking you out

i think he would offer his arm for you to hold on to while he walks you around....... if he had arms... ah his hand and shoulder will suffice..!

as for confessions? i think it might be up in the air on who confesses first, assuming someone doesnt speak up first because watching this old man yearn gets tiring and sad after a while/j

though if he were to confess himself, and do it before you can, i think he would take you to the side and do it.... i dont think he would like the idea of confessing to you with an audience, i think he values the privacy and doesnt want you to feel pressured to say yes, you know?

i think he would be very blunt and straight forward about it, for once swallowing his nerves. if you reject him there will obviously be some hurt, but he would take it with grace... very mature about it, you know?

but what if he confesses in the heat of the moment? say you were in danger during an IHA and for a moment he thought something happened to you... be it you emerge after taking a worrying amount of time getting up from a wreck, or laying injured and out of commission?

i think he would spill his heart out to you right there, before he loses the chance to tell you what hes been feeling forever... gosh if he isnt able to get it out before you abstract, or.... hed never forgive himself and it would eat him alive...

you know?

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #kinger x reader #kinger x you #kinger imagine

[heliosrisingheroesimagines]

AAA URE BACK i'm so happy omg…you're one of my fav writers in this platform and i love rereading your fics and headcanons!!! ♪

i'd like to request coriander, daisy, fennel, peony and sweet pea from the plant asks for marion!! there's not enough marion content that i can find here I swear...I think he really deserves some more love 💔…but either way, thank you so much in advance and have a great day!! :] ★

(Marion is my beloved I'm always happy to write for him~)

Marion Blythe:

🌻coriander: what do they love the most about their s/o, both physical and personality-wise?

You’re some whose very easy for him to talk to. He doesn’t feel like you’re judging him, or underestimating his strength, or making any assumptions based on factors outside of his control. He feels like he could tell you anything, and having this emotional security is incredibly important to Marion; it’s always been difficult to let his real feelings shine through, but it wasn’t healthy for him to keep them inside constantly, so he needed a person who he felt could understand him. Even if you didn’t have the same opinions as he did, there was just something that made him comfortable speaking freely with you.

Marion likes your eyes. They’re like windows to the soul, or so Nova used to joke, but he never really understood the phrase ‘getting lost in their eyes’ until you. He could stare into your eyes forever if you let him but normally, you’d get too flustered, having to look away while Marion couldn’t possibly mirror you.

🌻daisy: what is their love language, both giving and receiving?

Giving: Acts of Service. This is more a goal set by himself but Marion likes to prove that he’s ‘useful’ to you; it’s nothing you’ve ever commented on, and you don’t quite know where it came from as its not like he has anything to prove. He just liked the feeling of knowing he was making your day easier, even when he was busy himself he still tried to fit in tasks that would make your day easier by the end of it. It’s not something he willingly admits to, of course, denying that it’s coming from the love he has for you as it would be too embarrassing to admit.

Receiving: Quality Time. Marion isn’t a high-maintenance lover, as much as his standards might have you perceive him that way. He doesn’t want you going out of your way to do things for him, nor does he have a need for endless gifts (although he won’t ever deny home-cooked breakfast). He always preferred doing things together when your free-time allowed it, like cooking together or watching movies with the entire family; at first he was nervous about spending time alone with you but now it’s exactly what he needs to keep his head on straight.

🌻fennel: what are their kisses like? where do they like to be kissed the most?

Marion’s kisses are thoughtful, always coming in a moment that you suspect yet still knocking you off your feet anyway. You can’t help but lean in to him and it’s exactly what he wants, that closeness that comes with being unabashedly in love. He preferred to take the moments slow, as much as his nerves were set alight when you kissed he couldn’t help but want to savor the moment.

He would say the lips if asked but he doesn’t have a preference, a kiss is a kiss but he does like ones he can reciprocate. When you’re quick with kissing him on the cheek or forehead he always tried to grab you before you could get away, which you now made into a game knowing he wanted to reciprocate any affection you gave him. It left you both giggling in a way you didn’t think Marion was capable of before dating him, kissing each other’s faces until your other responsibilities were remembered.

🌻peony: how do they get their s/o to blush? how does their s/o make them blush?

Marion is always proud when he managed to set up a perfectly romantic moment for the two of you to enjoy together, and the confidence he has about knowing you is something you can’t help but blush over. There are some partners who might take a more bashful approach to it but knowing you inside and out is a source of pride for Marion, who put endless effort into your relationship while training his hardest to be a great hero.

Marion is surprisingly easy to make blush, almost like its natural reaction to your presence. It happened when you leaned in close or suddenly start giving him physical affection before he can mentally prepare, or when you sincerely compliment an outfit you think he looks good in. Having any sort of praise coming from you pleased him, but romantic attention made him more nervous than other kids of attention from you.

🌻sweet pea: are they big on cuddling? what is their favorite position to cuddle their s/o in?

Marion enjoyed cuddling as long as he was in a good mood, as he preferred being left alone or not being confined if he was angry/worked up. There are times where he needs comfort that he’ll let you know it’s okay to be close to him, a comforting arm wrapped around his shoulder as he leaned into you and tried to get ahold of himself as he didn’t want your mood to tank alongside his. There’s something inherently comforting about having a person you can simply lean against and absorb their warmth without being questioned on it, although teasing is imminent especially when the cuddling happens on movie nights.

His favorite way to cuddle was when you were on the couch together, a nice blanket spread across your legs, either you curled up into him or him resting his head on your shoulder. He thought it was nice if somewhat distracting, the first few times finding it impossible to fully focus on the movie but eventually falling into a comfortable rhythm where Jacqueline wouldn’t constantly squeal about how cute the two of you were.

#Helios Rising Heroes #Helios Rising Heroes x Reader #Helios Rising Heroes Imagines #HeliosR #Helios Rising #Helios Rising Imagines #Helios Rising x Reader #Marion Blythe #Marion Blythe x Reader #Plant Meme

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Kill Of The Night

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: When none other than Soldier Boy, the veteran Superhero that went MIA for decades, accepts to meet with you for an interview, you’re sure it’s the best day of your life and that your career will really start after that. But it's not for your talent that he chose you. And it's not just freedom that he lacked.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, consensual sex going on dub-con and then non-con, injury, attempted murder, violence, swearing, Soldier Boy being an asshole (what a surprise!)

Word count: 2311

A/n: So this was written quite fast, so sorry for any mistake! I wanted to keep it like sexy but my brain always goes for the drama and the dark, so sorry about that! Hope y'all still enjoy! @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @candy-coated-misery0731 @siospins2

Don’t forget to leave a feedback! This was inspired by this gif oop.

The man standing in front of you was handsome.

Piercing green eyes. Perfectly trimmed beard. Hair looking so soft, and yet, untouchable. Like he was some kind of God that was suddenly back on earth for a purpose bigger than you.

When Soldier Boy reappeared, people started wondering. Where had he been? Nothing was written on that matter, no information or reasons as to why the first superhero to ever see light was one day simply gone. His story was almost extinct by now, people were forgetting him, and everything he did for the world, the wars he fought in, the sacrifices he made, they were all forgotten.

So when one day he got back on stage, looking better than ever, not at all aged since his last appearance… Talking like nothing had happened, people started to talk. Ask question. And his story had been unearthed, his past, brought back under the sun. Journalists were fighting each other to have only a minute with him, anything to get their moment of glory. So when he answered your email, saying he accepted to be interviewed by you, you didn’t take into account the little details that were suspicious, like the fact he was choosing the place of the meeting and that you absolutely had to be alone. No camera or recording of his voice, you could take notes, and that was it. No evidence of what would happen.

But blinded by excitement, all you could see was how good it would make your career go. You would become one of the best journalists for sure. And all of those other pickering assholes would like at you from the bottom of the stairs.

The day finally arrived. And even if the email said no camera, the journalist in you couldn’t help it… You had to get some proof that it really happened, just in case people didn’t believe you. Just in case, you told yourself as you placed carefully the tricked teddy bear that had a camera hidden in its glossy eyes. The interview would be in the living room, so you faced Teddy's gaze right at the couches, where you assumed the supe would sit.

Moments later, knocks at the door.

Okay Y/n. Calm down. This is just another normal interview you’re doing… Who am I kidding? This moment, it’s the moment that will change my life.

You were right on that. That moment would change your life forever. But not the way you thought. And not in a good way either.

The moment you opened the door, you fell right under his spell. Under his timeless beauty. He wasn’t wearing his helmet, that had to be so uncomfortable, but he was wearing the rest of his costume.

You stayed frozen for a couple of seconds, admiring his every being, when you realized you should be talking.

“Hi, sorry, uhm, thank you for accepting to see me, I’m Y/n,” you ended up finding your words.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. Simply. He didn’t present himself, he didn’t need to. It was the whole point, after all. Meeting him to know his story, to know him. But when he said those words, the moment the smile stretched his perfect lips…

You were done for.

It was supposed to be an interview, and the interview was supposed to be in the living room.

You walked to the room with him, but that was the only thing that followed the script you had in your head of what would follow. Because next thing, you were pinned on the couch, his mouth on yours and his harsh, strong hands on your thigh. Going up and up under your skirt…

At first, it felt good. Him jumping on you made you feel desired. Interesting. Sexy. He was growling and touching you like you were his drugs and he needed a dose. His lips were kissing yours like you were food he was devouring. And the sound he made, broken groans, like an animal that finally got his prey under his claws.

And you let yourself be touched. Be kissed. Be dominated. Because it meant nothing. Because banging the superhero meant a link with him, it meant you would have a connection for many further interviews.

Even when his kiss got rougher, when his beard scratched and burnt your skin, when his strong hands ripped out your skirt and your panties, you let him do, and you even moaned under him.

Soldier Boy didn’t remove his clothes, but you heard it, the zip of his pants. You knew what was coming, and you wanted it, so bad. You were dripping by now, your hands lost in his hair or holding tight on his broad shoulders, kissing back with as much need and want than him. So when he pressed his cock to your entrance, you didn’t push him away.

When you felt his length slip inside of you, you didn’t think of the line you were about to cross.

Not like you had the time anyway.

Soldier Boy snapped inside of you and buried himself to the hilt, and fuck he was big. Big and thick and throbbing inside of you, it cut out your breath and you broke the kiss to be able to breathe. It was so much, all at once, you needed time to adjust to his girth…

But he didn’t want to wait.

Already, he was pulling almost all the way out and snapping back inside with as much force. Another broken gasp escaped your mouth and choked in your throat as a moan mixed with it. Soldier Boy fucked you into the couch, so hard, it was barely if you could breath. He was rough, not leaving you a single second to adjust, to have a break, he was fucking you like you were only a doll for him. Only a sex doll.

Leaving you your mouth to breathe, he started kissing your neck, his warm breath tickling your ear each time he grunted. Your hands weakly grabbed his shoulder, trying to make him slow down since your mouth was unable to process any words, but the only answer you got was a low, warning growl. He pulled out completely, and you thought he finally got the message, but as suddenly as he stopped, he manhandled you into your stomach and drove back inside of you. Immediately fucking you again.

It felt good, and at the same time, it hurt. But the mixte of the two, of his cock hitting so deep it touched your cervix, of his hands bruising your hips, of his teeth biting your shoulder at the limit of breaking your skin…

It was too much. Way too much for you. Broken moans were now leaving your mouth. And what happened next was unexpected, because you didn’t feel it build up. But suddenly, you were clenching hard around him, so hard, and the coil in your stomach was ripping, and you were cumming around him. Juices flowing down your thighs, drenching the couch, soaking his cock. And as you came hard under him, Soldier Boy didn’t slow down at all and kept fucking you until you came again. Your first climax wasn’t even over that you were cumming again. It wasn’t as powerful as the first one, but it still felt… exhilarating.

Soldier Boy fucked you through your second orgasm with rougher thrusts. Deeper. Slower, but harder. One of his hands shot to your mouth and he bent your head back as he gave the last thrusts. You stopped breathing completely, his hand was so large it was covering both your mouth and nose, but you didn’t panic, because you could feel him cum inside of you, long ropes of hot liquid filling you up. His cock twitched until it was empty, and finally, his hands let go.

You were breathing so fast, it was almost impossible to let oxygen enter. It was the hardest, roughest sex you ever had in your entire life, you were almost sure it was even the best. But now, you were so tired, exhausted, your body ached under him, the places he squeezed too hard or where he bit you, your private parts hurt too… and you still had to do the interview.

Soldier Boy wasn’t moving.

He was still buried inside of you and you could feel the inside of your thighs soaked with your juice and his release. But he was still inside of you. And only a couple of seconds later…

“Fuck…”

He was thrusting again, as hard has he had been fucking you since the begining. Like he had a never endless stamina, a never endless hunger to satiate. 

“Hm!” you tried to speak, but a moan escaped your mouth instead. It was rough again, but slower, like he was now taking his sweet time fucking you, feeling you around him. Yet, everytime he snapped inside, you felt him so deep… It was hurting now. You were so sore. “Please, can you go hm! Slower…” You were afraid to ask. Afraid to tell him to stop, after all, he was the key to your success. And you were consentant, at least, you were at first…

Soldier Boy didn’t answer immediately, but he slowed down even more, and relief washed over you for a slight moment.

Until you felt his strong grip circling your throat and squeezing. Until air no longer entered.

“You shut your fucking whore mouth, or I fucking snap your neck, you hear me? Sluts like you deserve this. You should count yourself grateful I’m fucking you, bitch!”

A strong slap on your cheek made you see stars for a moment, the hand still holding your throat.

“I wanna taste the way that you bleed...”

After that, fear prevented you from fighting more against his grip. Fear even prevented you from making a single noise, and tears rolled down your cheeks silently.

Fear let Soldier Boy fuck you until he came again. And again.

He fucked you until he was done with you. And once he was done, he pulled out and left you on the couch. Like you were only a sex toy he was done using.

“Yanno what, I was about to let you live,” he said, and you lifted your head to look at him. Mascara was running down your cheeks at how much you cried, praying whatever God it would be over soon. Finally, you thought it was over… But then you saw where he was standing. Soldier Boy was in front of the shelf… Where you put the Teddy bear. The only proof of what happened. Of the hero raping you. “You fucking whore filmed this, huh?” He grabbed the bear and squeezed it in his hand until it broke. “You don’t deserve to live.”

The only thing you remember after that was the light. Burning, scorching, even, filling the room. It melted and burnt everything around, and if you already weren’t in so much pain, you could swear you saw the light come out from his chest.

Next time you opened your eyes, you thought you were dead. And it was only normal, everything felt like you were dead.

You couldn’t feel anything. Not pain, not your body, not air entering your lungs.

When you tried to open your eyes, white was surrounding you. White ceiling, white lights, white walls… White blankets. It smelled bad, strong, detergent, death, blood…

But it didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt. You didn’t have to breathe by yourself. Didn’t feel the bed you were probably in. Cause this looked like a hospital room, right?

It was exactly like you were dead.

You were sure of it until you heard the voices.

“Another explosion, you know what it means…”

“It means that cunt is still out there, blasting whatever shit that’s in him, killing bloody people!”

“Butcher, she’s still alive. It should not be possible.”

“There was radioactivity, or some kind of similar emanation back there where he was locked up… I asked some people to do some tests. That supe was confined there for so long, he build up a fucked up load of energy. Of powers. There’s no denying it, everytime that fire thing leaves his body, it contains compound V.”

“You think… La fille…”

“She’s the only one still alive. For all we know, it could be only a coincidence…”

“Or, she’s our new weapon.”

It was like they were right there with you in the room so much you were hearing them clearly. But when you finally forced your eyes open to better look at where you were, it was to see no one. 

As you removed the covers from your body, your first goal was to leave and find the people talking. Ask them what they meant, if they talked about you, what happened, if you were dead…

But as you removed the covers, you noticed your skin.

Burnt. Grey. Decayed.

Your hands, arms, legs, everywhere it was burnt and disgusting.

You tried to scream. But nothing came out, nothing but a guttural, animalistic noise.

You tried to breathe, but found it was not necessary. Reaching out, you tried to find any tube that would be there, pouring oxygen into your lungs for you, but found nothing but your skin. 

Taken by panic, you jumped out of bed and rushed for the door, tried to open it, but found it locked. Panic increased. An interview. It was only supposed to be an interview, the interview that would boost up your reputation and your career. 

But as you tried the handle again, you got a glimpse of your reflection in the glass of the door.

This time, the scream left your mouth, though it didn’t sound like a scream. More like a long growl of agony. And next thing, the door was getting ripped off its hinges and thrown away far.

-

Next ->

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @b3autyfuldisast3r @eevvvaa​ @fictional-affairs @wickedinspirations @awkward-and-indecisive

#soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #the boys #the boys soldier boy fanfiction #the boys soldier boy oneshot #the boys soldier boy x reader #the boys soldier boy x you #the boys soldier boy #lemon #tw dark content #tw noncon #tw violence

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

smut prompts: 143. “You like messing with my head, don’t you?” “Only because it clearly turns you on.” baptist and the blade

Can you believe it, I actually finished one of these smut prompts from forever ago ghgjfksdl

Anyway, here's some Kit and John being the weirdos they are

Can also be read on AO3

MINORS DNI - smut under the cut

His arms were numb, pins and needles prickling his skin. He assumed he must have slept in an awkward way, stress often resulted in him sleeping in odd positions. When he went to move, he was brought to his senses as his wrists shook above his head.

"What the f-"

"Hello, John." 

There was that sultry tone he so craved to hear. Having to sleep alone in his king sized bed just wasn't the same, he'd much rather have her coiled up in the sheets with him. Pale blue eyes stared out from the dark corner of his bedroom. Moonlight reflected off the point of the blade in her hands as she spun it against the cedar dresser she leaned up against. 

"Deputy!" He suddenly didn't feel so bad about his predicament, knowing she was the one to stick him in such a situation. Trying to sit up, he shook his wrists a little harder. "These aren't just for show, are they? These are the real thing!"

She stepped into the silver light coming in through the open window, and the long line of her legs came into view. Bare, pale and smooth, her tattoo and scars on show for him. 

"Straight from my belt."

Her knife gleamed as she ran its tip against her thigh, pulling at the skin but not enough to break it, just to leave a trail behind from where it kissed her flesh.

"Are you going to punish me, Deputy?"

She scoffed, "It's hardly punishment if you're asking for it."

"Am I being rewarded then?" He asked, barely able to contain his amorous glee at the entire scenario that was being played out. Pushing himself back against his pillows, the blanket slipped down his abdomen, revealing his own scars and tattoos in an odd sort of mating dance as his Cheshire grin spread across his lips. 

She stalked towards the bed, climbing on to the foot of it, hands and knees dragging slowly towards him. Bright eyes flashed at the sight of the gold cross dangling between her curtains of red hair. She rarely ever wore her hair down, he was more used to seeing that damn braid of hers. Climbing onto his lap, straddling her thighs on either side of him, his cock was already getting hard and pressing up against the toned muscles of her leg.

Wearing only one of his shirts, he swallowed at the swath of cleavage he was given to feast upon with his eyes, and that mark of WRATH he'd personally carved into her skin above it as she placed her hand upon his shoulder, leaning down her mouth grazing against his. 

"Hope you don't mind me borrowing your clothes. I didn't have anything else to wear and I didn't want to dirty the sheets with all that blood."

He swallowed, adam's apple bobbing as the cold bite of her knife dragged along his chest. "Hebrews 13:16. And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased."

"God, I love it when you talk dirty to me, John." She husked.

He smirked up at her, his grin as slimy as his personality. "Why am I not surprised that the sinner decides to mock me?"

"Why do you keep letting me fuck you then? Hardly the act of a devout man."

"You do so enjoy playing with my head, don't you?"

"Only 'cause it clearly turns you on."

Her hand slipped from his shoulder and caressed the length of his abdomen before falling between his legs, running her fingers over his cock through the blanket, making him hiss.

"So sensitive," she teased.

"You've left me wanting for so long, Kathleen. You can hardly blame me."

"Suppose that's true. And since those hands of yours are out of commission, guess it's all up to me to solve the matter, hmm?" Bringing the knife to his shirt, she slowly popped buttons free and the material fell away from her, exposing her bare breasts.

They weren't the largest he'd seen, but what they lacked in size they more than made up for in how perky and firm they were. Her nipples were the same shade of strawberry pink as her lips, already getting hard the longer they were exposed to the cool air of the room.

He licked his lips, expecting to wrap his mouth around each bud, pulling each little desperate moan and whine from her as she pulled at his hair as she so often did. 

"I know where you're looking, John. My eyes are up here."

His ocean eyes dragged up to look at her smirking face as she toyed with the cross pendant around her neck, dragging it back and forth along the chain. 

"Say it, John. It's just one word."

"Please?"

Her teeth dragged over her lower lip, pulling the pump pout along with them. Strawberry pink shifted into cherry red as the flush that started in her chest rose up to her cheeks.

"Such a good boy." 

He whined at the praise as her nails clawed along his chest, catching against the scar tissue and his nipples. Gently stroking back up to his neck, as she grabbed at the hair on the back of his head. 

When his lips finally connected with her it was like being given a little taste of heaven, that small bit of honey that helped make the rest of the tedium of the Reaping go down easier. Pulling and sucking on her nipple, teeth dragging over it as it became stiff against his tongue lashing against it. His eyes shone up at her, as he watched her eyes close and her breath begin to pant. Her hips starting their slow grind against him, grinding into him, using the folds of his blanket for the extra friction. All the while tugging on his hair, her nails digging into his scalp. 

God, how he wished his hands were free to roam against her now, to feel every shift of the muscle below her skin, to grab at her other breast and show it the appreciation it deserved. To bless her entire being with his touch, but instead, he was forced to make use of the meager scraps he'd been given.

So lost in his own contemplation, he hadn't noticed the blanket had slipped down his hips, and she was now grinding against him, it was only once her slick began to drip down him that he took notice. His eyes falling to between his legs as the auburn hair of her cunt met with the black hair that tufted around the base of his cock. Her mound slid against the length of him, veins rubbing against her clit as she dragged it against him with long, slow strokes.

His eyes rolled back into his head just at the feeling of the wet caress of her cunt against him. Mouth slipping free from her with one last stroke of his tongue against her breast.

"Please?" 

Looking up at her with the biggest eyes he could muster, desperate and pleading, bright blue darkened by his blown out pupils.

"You want me to fuck you, John?"

"Yes," he hissed.

Grabbing the base of his cock, she stroked her hand up against it, squeezing against it as she brought her fist up to the head, his pre-cum already dribbling from the tip. Leaning over, she spat down onto it, despite the fact that it was already glistening with her own arousal, rubbing her saliva up and down his shaft, coating him in her. 

A gasp escaped him, as she stroked him, staring into his eyes like she wanted to fucking eat him.

"Please?"

"So impatient."

He dug at the metal that connected him to the headboard, hands slipping with sweat, he could barely get a grip. Tossing his head back against the wood, his hips thrusting up towards her hand, fucking into it deeper, chasing his release.

She tutted her tongue at his vulgar display. "John, please, you're embarrassing yourself. You're the Herald, you have an image to protect."

"Fuck you!" He snapped.

Her cruel laugh only made him more desperate for the torture to end. He was doing what she wanted, did as she asked, he was willing to beg for his release.

"Say it again."

His eyes narrowed, his mouth pulled into a straight line. "Please?" The word pulled from him begrudgingly.

"Just remember, you're the one who keeps asking me to come back. You got yourself stuck in this mess. You've only got yourself to blame, Baptist."

"Harlot."

She lifted her hips, and the sheen of her was spread along her inner thighs. Sliding the head of his cock against her soaking wet pussy, pushing it up inside of her as she slowly sunk down onto it, letting him fill her.

A low, guttural moan fell out of his mouth, as he could feel her clench around his length.

"Fuck." The word dragged from him slowly as he bit down on his lip, wishing he had a fist free to use instead. "Use me."

"Love to."

Her pelvis moved in circles, as she rode him, stroking his cock with the wet lips of her cunt. She knew exactly how to move her body to pull his seed from him, all while using him to get herself off, having him rub against that magical point inside of her that brought her to heaven right along with him. 

He clawed at the chains of the cuffs, thrusting his hips up into her, driving himself mad as he panted heavily, desperate for more of her, all of her. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” 

He chanted it again and again as he was brought closer and closer to his climax. His head lolled back against the pillows and his eyes closed as an extended moan leaked from his mouth.

Fingers wrapped around his throat, her nails dragged down his chest over his scar. “I wanna make you scream.”

“Oh my God. Yes!” He fought to get the words out as his cock twitched inside of her. His muscles all flexing at once as he pushed himself deeper inside her velvet walls, rocking in and out of her, not letting himself slip free. 

Driving her hips down onto him, she flipped her head back letting her flowing mane of red hair spill down her back, beads of sweat dripping down her chest and abdomen. Her muscles rippled under the skin, her scars and tattoos flexing right along with them. 

She was a succubus straddled atop him but he didn't have the power or the restraint to tell her no. With each shuddering breath a high pitched moan squeaked from him, he was getting so close now. 

His brow furrowed, his mouth falling agape as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh Yes! Deputy, yes!"

But before he could release, he felt the bite of the cold night air on his still twitching cock. He peaked with one eye, and she smirked down at him, looking all too pleased with herself.

"Can't have you getting off before I do, John. That's not how you treat a guest. Bad manners."

He threw his head back against the pillows and let out a frustrated groan. "Dammit, Dep –"

But before he could get another word out the slick lips of her cunt were pressed to his mouth. Now this was a treat he had yet to receive from her, and he was all too happy with his gift, making sure he showed her his appreciation. 

His tongue lapped at every glistening morsel of pink flesh it could reach, licking long stripes up and down her, using her moans as a guide. Finally wrapping his mouth around her clit, her fiery red pubic hair scratching against his nose, her scent filling his nostrils. 

There was nothing attending to his needs, not even her hand, but that didn't stop him from thrusting at the air around him as he closed his eyes and ate her out, moaning against her. 

Big blue doe eyes stared up from between her thighs, checking to make sure she appreciated his efforts, and he was well rewarded with her fingers dragging through his hair, ruffling up his moussed locks, followed by a long drawn out moan that was music to his ears.

"Yes, John! Yes!"

#far cry 5 #fan fiction #smut prompt #john seed #john seed x female deputy #oc: kit cross #ship: the baptist and the blade

[hallothere]

15 for radanir & lothrandir?

"I can't. I just can't."

"Can't? That's the last thing I expected from you." Radanir turned, not quite smirking, eyes half rolled. Then he stopped. "Oh. You're serious, aren't you?"

Lothrandir scowled at the dirt and clumps of grass clinging to the ruins. Radanir, the scoundrel, was sitting above him on a collapsed wall, lounging and enjoying the view. Of course he was. Agile as ever, full-recovered and not even twinging from the decorations of combat on his leg.

"Well," the rascal began again, "get up to the next handhold and there's a ledge you can sit on. Catch your breath. We're in no hurry."

Lothrandir's eyes were still downcast. He grit his teeth before managing to reply. "I can't, Radanir. Move up or down. If I let go anywhere, I will fall." He heard the sudden scrape of leather on stone above him. Quick as a flash, Radanir. Always jumping to it, always on the move.

"Not up or down, left or right?" The voice was closer now, but it had lost most of its playful tone.

"I don't know what part of 'I can't' is difficult for you, but-"

"Easy, easy. Peace brother, I meant only to know." Radanir was right next to him now, angling for a certain position on the wall. "There. I'm steady as I can be. Use me as a foothold and climb down."

Now it was Lothrandir's turn to stop and look. "You're serious."

Radanir's face was open, honest but not fraught with worry. "Better than you being stuck up there forever. The view is not so rare that it might only be seen from the walltop. Climb down and we'll have a bit to eat."

Lothrandir huffed. His limbs were shaking, but this seemed the only course. "I don't know why I agreed to let you come along."

"To keep you on your toes- don't use my neck, you great mammoth! There's an arm and a leg right- careful!"

After nearly dislodging the both of them, Lothrandir finally reached a safe height to drop from. Radanir landed next to him a moment later. This time, Lothrandir noticed, he had to take a steadying step to keep his feet.

"Well!" Radanir began, "Easiest to feel alive when you come so close to death, eh brother?" That haughty note was creeping back in, and Lothrandir didn't like it one bit. Instead of a verbal response, he dusted himself off and headed towards the ledge. If the view was fine everywhere, this was a spot he could sit down pointedly and be alone.

But, curse him, Radanir never took 'pointedly' to heart.

"I see you've already found an alternative. It's as good a spot as any I--" he stopped abruptly. Maybe he had taken the hint. Lothrandir needed a moment to recover. He bit back another curse. Longer than a moment. It had been more than a moment since he'd left Isengard. It had been weeks since his last combat at the Morannon. His time in the healing tents had been hard enough to weather.

"I'll take my meal, and then we can go." Lothrandir broke the silence. Radanir had helped, and not unkindly. "Look- there is your Inn. It doesn't appear habitable from here, but we can drop in for a drink and then camp somewhere less likely to crumble around us." He paused, thinking. "Like a stack of kindling, perhaps."

"Very well you may." Radanir replied quietly. "Though..."

Now that was unlike him, and Lothrandir turned. Radanir was staring off into the distance, looking occasionally at that ramshackle Inn before tearing his eyes away. His face was blank. Finally, he saw Lothrandir staring.

"You may go!" He said hurriedly. "Though I think it is a poor structure. Likely to fall on you, as you said. Someone will have to... have to pull you from it."

"You can't either?" Lothrandir asked softly.

Radanir turned away. "I have never been the best counsel. Do as you wish."

"Candaith sat by the forge of his own will."

"Don't lecture me." Radanir snapped. "I've held my tongue for you."

"Not to our friend." Lothrandir shot back, with a little heat. "Not to Techeron, though it wounded him." He paused. "A little. Not everyone lives up to their reputation."

"Not everyone dies to cover your mistakes."

Lothrandir scowled, scooped up a clump of grass and threw it at him. Radanir's indignant squawk went unheeded. "I counseled caution the same as you. Because the plan goes ill does not mean the planner is evil, or guilty." He scrunched up his nose in distaste. "The Wizard always said as much, and I am tried of hearing such a sentiment. Speak no more of it."

It was silent again a long time. Only the wind joined the conversation on Weathertop.

"So it only galls you to speak of it when you're the one being lectured?"

Lothrandir whirled around, only to find Radanir watching him. Eyes bright, but silent with a question, with a plea.

"That's it!" Lothrandir stood up too quickly, but maintained his feet. "We're going to the Inn, and I'll pummel you with an audience. See if they find your jibing so justified. I'll bring the building down around your ears, see if I won't."

"They will find me right." Radanir said, leaping up. "They will dust the grime off my corpse and say 'Here is a man unsuited to be a mop, he will have his'-"

"Don't you-"

"-'dustice done for him, and we'll'-"

"-Radanir I swear-"

"-'make a clean sweep of it'."

"Horrid! Unconscionable! I will break a chair over your head!"

"Then it won't have a leg to stand on!"

Lothrandir stormed down the path, and the remaining crebain were startled from Weathertop by wordless screams and roaring laughter.

#lotro #ask games #radanir #lothrandir #sobbing crying #but what is angst duo without screwball comedy #aaa thank you friend #fic tag

[golbrocklovely]

i think its hilarious people are calling m cb’s girlfriend when that horny mfer is still liking half naked insta models pics as of a day or two ago. if he had a gf he wouldn’t (i hope) disrespected her like that. whereas i think sg and k are probably together or at least in the early stages bc they definitely seem cutesy together whereas all pics of cb and m (including nye) have ‘we’re just having fun’ vibes. also the way m is dressing and still posting on insta, she’s definitely not giving off ‘i have a bf’ vibes.

people just stiring drama (not u, ofc. ur the only snc blog i keep up with bc you have reasonable answers to this stuff) in the tag calling both girls the ‘girlfriends’ lol

plus as a personal observation as someone who’s only known who snc are since october, cb doesnt strike me as someone who will settle down before 30 (if he ever wants to). hes 27 now right? maybe in the coming years he might start wanting something solid but he strikes me as someone who isnt looking for that rn. idk im 29 this year and im sort of in the same boat. like only the last 6 months have i been thinking ok its probably time to find someone…

i mean, i would assume he'd not do that either, but i think it also depends on what m feels like. she might not care. also there are a lot of girls colby is just friends with, and he'll like their scantily clad pics so idk about it being an issue.

and as for what she wears, again, i don't think that matters. colby doesn't seem like the type to want his girl to fully cover up or whatever. and also, just bc you're in a relationship doesn't mean you have to dress conservatively. you still have the same body underneath, whether or not you show it off. and if she feels confident, who gives a fuck what colby thinks lol

but as i've stated before, idk how serious m and colby could be. they've only known each other since sam's bday. so they've only been together for a month and some change so… eh. if they want to be together forever, so be it. that's awesome. if not, it is what it is.

as for sam and k/la girl, yeah idk about them either. they've seemingly been together since septemberish. so, it could be serious and lead to something more committed. or it could just be a silly fling that lasts for a bit of time and then ends. but i hope they enjoy whatever time they do spend together.

colby has had almost exclusively flings since 2016 after he broke up with his only girlfriend (or he claims to be his only girlfriend). he has a lot that he needs to work on internally before he starts committing to anyone. he himself has said that basically. so i don't see him settling down anytime soon, but who knows. and same thing with sam. he just got out of a long relationship, so my first thought would not be to jump into another one. but he also has said he's a monogamous person and likes being in relationships. so… it's a bit up in the air for both of them. but i don't see them settling down any time soon.

and as for me, there's always been just a lot going on in my life so i've never really taken time to focus on my love life. or the couple times i have, it's been unrequited and heartache. however, i'm very happy i didn't date when i was younger bc i genuinely hated myself for a long time. and i just know i would have tolerated a lot more bc i didn't care about me and just didn't want to be alone. like i was borderline abused by dudes i wasn't even seeing back then. now, i love myself (for the most part lol) and have no issues being alone. and i also know what i want. and if a man, or woman, ever tried anything with me, i'll just leave lmao

i would like to get married in the future, but it definitely isn't gonna be this year or most likely the next sksk

#ask #personal #sg ll #cb ll

[couldntbedamned]

Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue - 30

Summary: In an alternate universe where trains and zeppelins are still common forms of travel and the internet and cell phones exist, nineteen year old Peter Parker has few options left after he’s swindled out of his inheritance. Unable to pay for college, let alone keep the house left to him by his deceased aunt, he’s running out of time before he’s out on the streets. Desperate, Peter signs his life over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections to take his chances as the selected husband of a complete stranger. After all, he only has to make it through a year and then he can choose to annul.

Dr. Stephen Strange has little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on his career. When his career is threatened by what a nosy board of directors considers a “lack of personal fulfillment and settling down,” he opts to select a spouse through the BCSS and chooses Peter Parker. The young man’s profile he’d briefly skimmed suggests intelligence and compatibility. It’s not ideal, but if after a year it’s not working out, he can always annul the marriage and send Peter on his way.

It’s a marriage neither truly wants, with sharp learning curves for both. It’s either going to be forever or it’s going to go down in flames.

Warnings/AO3 Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s/Modern Fusion, Doctor Stephen Strange, Jewish Peter Parker, Peter Parker is an Adult, Marriage of Convenience, Marriage Contracts, Government Sanctioned Marriages, Domestic Discipline, Dubiously Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Aftercare, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dubious Morals, Dubious Ethics, Asshole Stephen Strange, Smartass Peter Parker, Passive Aggressive Canned Soup, Two Morons Trying to Try Their Best, Borrowing Characters

_______

Chapter 30

_______

They didn't go to Grand Orleans due to forecasts of bad weather, but they did drive the three hours to Upper Manhattan for an extended weekend.

Thursday afternoon found them checking into a fancy hotel. Stephen suggested they rest for a few hours in their room before going down to the Grand Salon for dinner. It didn't surprise Peter in the slightest that "resting" really meant sex and he enjoyed the novelty of being thoroughly debauched in a hotel room with a king bed and a stunning view of the city.

The Grand Salon was a marvel of crystal-like curtains and glowing chandeliers that complemented the rich wallpaper, lush velvet and silk seating. He'd never been in such an elegant, refined place. Everyone was dressed in fine clothes and for once, Peter felt like he belonged thanks to his tailored suit and the reading he'd done on etiquette and fine dining.

"Do you want to see the prices on the menu or would you like me to order for you?" Stephen asked once they were seated and he was handed the day's menu. "I think I have a fairly good idea of what you'll enjoy."

"Please," Peter said, relieved. There was no way their dinner would be anything other than outrageously expensive and he'd rather not have to worry about the cost.

Stephen ordered them both a Cardini salad, baked salmon with squash, spinach, and scallions in a rich beurre blanc, and glazed roasted carrots. He even ordered panna cotta for dessert. Everything was delicious and it was the most exquisite meal Peter had ever had.

"Well?" Stephen prompted as Peter finished his last bite of the vanilla custard topped with a blueberry compote and side of lavender ice cream.

"Rich people might be on to something, food-wise," he admitted. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure."

Stephen replaced Peter's battered luggage with a new set during a trip to Gimbels the next morning.

"I already have luggage!" Peter protested.

"Yes, and it's falling apart," Stephen said, unimpressed. "You might keep in mind that the set you arrived with is, by your own admission, older than you. It was well used and has served its purpose."

Peter couldn't argue with that. Stephen's gift was a nice set and would no doubt last him for a decade or two.

Gimbels was only the tip of the ice burg. Stephen guided him into L.S. Ayres and he spent a few hours being measured and and given a selection of clothing better suited to warmer temperatures to try on. There was little point in protesting; he needed clothes for spring and summer and he'd put on a few inches of muscle in addition to a few pounds since the previous August - one of the benefits of having steady, nutritious meals for months on end.

And, he had to admit, Stephen's taste was impeccable. Peter looked so far removed from the gangly, underfed boy hailing from Midtown... but he also looked like himself.

"Thanks for all the clothes," Peter said while they ate lunch at the L.S. Ayres tea room. It was a nice place, clearly designed to keep shoppers from leaving the department store for lunch. He enjoyed watching the small group of men and women walking around modeling the latest fashions.

"You're welcome," Stephen said. "You can't exactly be running around Malibu in long-sleeves."

That evening, Stephen surprised him with attending a show in Upper Manhattan's famed theatre district. Peter had never seen such a spectacle but he thoroughly enjoyed the music, dancing, and clever humor of The Music Man.

"I've seen community plays before," Peter told Stephen that night after they returned to their hotel room. "But nothing like that! I think I liked it more than the movies I've seen!"

Saturday morning they decided to spend the day out. He enjoyed exploring a city he'd only been to as a young child and even when they passed near Columbia University, Peter's mood didn't drop. That wasn't his life anymore and the one he had now was turning out to be a good one.

They didn't go to another show on Saturday evening, but Stephen took him to see a movie where they ate hot buttered popcorn and washed it down with fountain sodas.

"You said you've seen movies before?" He asked as the taxi drove them back to their hotel.

Peter nodded. "There was a dollar theater at the very edge of Midtown - the farthest the street trolley would travel. Every movie they showed was a few years old and I only managed to see a few, but I liked them." He considered for a moment. "I prefer radio shows, though. I like having pictures of what everything looks like in my mind and not shown."

"I feel the same way," Stephen agreed.

On Sunday they lazed in bed and barely made the cut-off to order in-room breakfast. They took their time packing and checking out before Stephen drove them back home.

"Have you done this often?" Peter asked as they drove. "Just take off for a long weekend?"

"Maybe once or twice every other year," Stephen said. "I have the amount of vacation time I have banked for a reason. The few times I've been asked to assist in a surgery like the one last autumn I would stay and enjoy a day or two if the city was interesting."

"But you didn't last time. You came home as soon as you could."

Stephen briefly looked over at him. "I had a reason to want to be home."

Work was more or less peaceful now that everyone on the hospital's board had met Peter and observed the two of them together. They'd hosted another dinner for an important pair of donors to the hospital and Peter had them charmed before the appetizers (his famous walnut date bites with coconut whip and sweet potato stacks) were even touched. It almost seemed too good to be true.

It was.

One Wednesday morning a week before his trip with Peter to California, Reed Richards came to his office and asked to speak with him.

"How may I help you?" Stephen asked.

Reed sat. "I very much enjoyed meeting your husband."

He said nothing.

"He's a fine young man and so gifted. I don't want to sound as though I'm bragging but there aren't many people I can talk about oncology, feature scoring, and bio-markers with. Peter kept up without a pause."

"He's a smart young man," Stephen agreed.

"And I can't help but wonder if his potential is being squandered. He was chosen to write for Van Dyne," Reed continued. "If his theories proved true, he could have revolutionized wound care. Stephen, he needs to be in college, not playing house husband."

"What are you really getting at?" Stephen asked. He had an idea, of course, and he could feel his temper rising.

"Your year with the BCSS is up in August. Stephen, I really think the right thing for you to do would be to annul the marriage. Peter had such a bright future ahead of him and keeping him chained to you isn't fair to him. Like I've said, a young man like him should be in college and making his mark on the world."

"Get out."

"Stephen-"

"No. All this song and dance about how you and the others just want me to be happy and now that you've seen I am, you want it destroyed. I'm so sorry I didn't follow your groupthink and ignore a fellow doctor's egregious malpractice, but just because I actually have a code of ethics I follow doesn't mean you get to make my life miserable to assuage your own guilt. Get out."

Reluctantly, Reed left with a parting "At least consider it."

Stephen managed to keep from throwing something, but only just.

The rest of his day passed in a haze and worst of all was the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Richards, damn the man, was probably right.

Peter could tell something was wrong when Stephen came home.

Stephen didn't acknowledge his greeting but went upstairs to change. When he came down it was as if he were going through the motions of a pleasant meal and evening in. It stung a little, considering the effort Peter had put into making the beef Wellington. It was a new attempt, and he'd hoped for even a small amount of praise.

"Did something happen at work?" Peter asked after Stephen bit into a lemon bar.

"Just a colleague speaking out of turn," Stephen said finally. "I'm sorry I'm such poor company at the moment."

"Was it anyone I know?"

"Yes, but what that person said hardly merits repeating," Stephen said. "Don't trouble yourself with it."

"If you say so," Peter said.

"I do say so," Stephen said sharply. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry. Just... don't worry about it."

"Stephen... if I've done something wrong, you can tell me."

"Not everything is about you, Peter," Stephen said.

Peter could only stare as Stephen got up and went upstairs. He listened carefully and heard the door to Stephen's office close.

What on earth was going on?

Stephen hadn't been this much of an asshole in months.

Talking with Tony and Sharon helped, at least.

He finalized plans to visit along with Peter and after Tony had to leave for an important SI meeting, Sharon assured Stephen that he'd be able to meet with two of her former colleagues who had a stake in the Quentin Beck case.

"It's kind of funny, though, isn't?" she wondered aloud while they were nailing down details.

"What is?"

"That Peter grew up so poor but somehow had an inheritance to be swindled out of."

He'd wondered about that himself, but there never seemed to be a reason to confront Peter over it. As far as Peter was aware, Stephen knew nothing about Quentin Beck or what had driven him to sign his life over to the BCSS. He'd hoped that Peter would trust him enough to talk to him about it, but apparently Peter didn't think it was necessary.

"A question for the ages," Stephen said.

"Johnson sent me some details and it looks like Beck deposited a hundred and fifty thousand around the time he vanished from Midtown, New Amsterdam."

All things considered, it wasn't exactly a glowing inheritance. Enough to let Peter keep his house and attend college for four years, but after that? Hardly anything to write home about.

Stephen made more than that in a quarter.

It was no wonder Peter thought Stephen's habits were wasteful and still preferred to save money when buying food and household items.

"Is something else going on?" Sharon asked. "You sound different."

He sighed. One of the problems with having friends was that even if those friends weren't former spies and trained interrogators, eventually they'd know someone well enough to know when something was off.

"It's something better discussed in person," he hedged.

"You'd better plan on discussing it when you two get here, then," she warned. "Bottling things up isn't going to help anyone."

"Says the woman who kept secrets for a living," he shot back.

Sharon laughed. "Oh, that wasn't even the half of it! Listen, Tony's spawn is playing football with my internal organs so I'm going to go lie down. I'll talk to you later, alright?"

"Take care of yourself," he urged.

Peter was withdrawn that night and everything about his body language - and the fact that he was wearing pajamas - said "back off."

Hating that he'd hurt Peter, Stephen did back off and dressed for bed himself.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier this evening," Stephen said after he'd joined Peter in bed. "You didn't deserve to be spoken to that way."

"No, I didn't," Peter said finally, still not looking at him. "I'm your spouse, not your verbal whipping boy."

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way."

"I don't ask about your day or what's bothering you to be nosy. I ask because you shouldn't have to deal with it alone."

"That's something I'm still coming to terms with," Stephen said. "I've been alone for a very long time."

"You're not, now. I know I'm not much-"

Stephen pulled him close and kissed him. "You're everything. I'm sorry I haven't made you feel that way. I'm... I'm glad that I have you."

Peter returned the kiss, pushing Stephen onto his back. "You have me." He kissed him again, started unbuttoning Stephen's pajama shirt, and then began to kiss down. And down.

"Peter, you don't-"

Peter looked up, amused. "I know." He continued his attentions downward and Stephen lifted his hips so Peter could pull clothing off.

Few things could make his mind go blissfully blank. Peter's mouth around his cock was one of them.

After he'd cleaned them up and before he fell asleep, Stephen vaguely wondered if Peter had any notion of the amount of power he could wield over him.

Peter took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

The woman who answered smiled delightedly when she saw him. "Peter! How wonderful to see you!"

"I'm sorry to bother you on your day off, Sue," he said.

"Oh, not at all! I was just using the quiet to do some cleaning. Franklin and Valeria will just mess it up again when they return from day care, but needs must. What brings you by?"

"I was hoping you could pass on a message to Dr. Richards for me."

Sue nodded, still smiling. "Of course! What would you like for me to tell him?"

"I'd like for for him to keep his opinions on my marriage to himself. He might not approve of how I'm living my life but it's my life. Stephen is my selecting spouse and I don't like seeing him upset."

Her smile faltered just a bit and she closed her eyes, mouthing something that sounded like "that man". She didn't look surprised at all. "Of course, I'll tell him."

"I would really appreciate it," Peter said. "I'm sorry to have to even ask, but like I said, I don't like seeing Stephen upset."

She nodded. "I'm so sorry you've had to deal with this. Reed so often has very good intentions but his execution and inability to let things go can cause problems."

They exchanged a few minutes of small talk and then Peter returned home.

Hopefully, that would be the last of it.

_______

#couldntbedamned fic #spiderstrange #spideystrange #stephen strange x peter parker #peter parker x stephen strange #1950s modern fusion au #1950s au #read the fucking tags and warnings #no seriously read them #peter parker #stephen strange

[femme-from-hell]

Since requests are open, I have one! I've been in the mood for some angst recently (who thought that writing non-angsty things during an whole month would make that happen? pfft), so I was wondering if I could request headcanons for the Lupin III main cast (the thieves and Zenigata, but feel free to do whichever characters you prefer, I don't know if you have a limit of characters): how would they react/feel about being in an unrequited love situation, or one where they know they can't be together (i.e, rivals or different sides in the law)?

Thank you in advance! 🥰

Sorry this took so long, I wanted to try my hand at making a custom banner for this bcs its my first Lupin post! I hope you enjoy :) Fair warning tho, this got a little long and its abit less of head cannons and more like story + some thoughts 

Lupin iii gang & Inspector Zenigata Angst

𓆩♡𓆪 Lupin III  𓆩♡𓆪

I feel like lupin sort of shuts down when he is heart broken. He is known for hiding his true emotions and thoughts from others, so that’s exactly what he’ll do. He won’t push to seem like is normal perky self, but he wont mope about. Lupin will just go silent, stone faced and continue marching on. 

No quips to pops,  no joking with Jigen and Goemon, not flirting with Fujiko

Lupin isn’t someone who falls easy, despite his more depraved habits when looking for a partner to keep cozy with at night.

That’s all it was really, just some one to squeeze until he found his next score and then off he went, a trail of hearts left in his wake. 

You, on the other hand, could never just be something to hold his fancy until some new painting, gem or priceless artifact. No, you were so much more. 

The two of you had crossed paths when he came crashing into your life, quite literally. He landed on top of your gardening shed and put an impromptu sky-light in the roof from his fall. Sure, it scared the living shit out of you, and sure, you also might have knocked him upside the head with a shovel from said shed, but after some first aid and apologies, the two of you had an unmistakable spark from the beginning.

You weren't a thief, or anything like the people he’s come across as he’s traveled the world, but you captivated more than anything or any one. It was like a pull he could never full describe, a pull that put him at your door step after every escape from the police or heist plastered over national news. No matter the distance, he would always have 2 feet on your door mat in the end. 

Lupin was a work in progress, he wasn’t someone that would just open up after a few hugs and kisses. It was a slow and gradual process, like a flower struggling to bloom but once it did, it was something miraculous that you couldn’t take your eyes away. 

Never in his life, from the first acts as Lupin III to his long years spent alone, had he ever imagined considering the idea of having a life with someone. At first he was elated! Spending the rest of his days with you, talking for hours, laughing so hard he struggled to breath, listening to you talk on and on about anything and everything, his heart would soar at the very thought. 

Ring displays in fancy stores and museums began to catch his eye as days go on until finally he made up his mind, he wanted you apart of his life now and forever. You deserved the best, so he was going to give it to you! For hours, he would spend researching the perfect ring, it couldn’t be just any ring either, it needed to be perfect.  Finally he decided on the engagement ring that Napoléon had used to propose to Josephine Bonaparte.

Everything was set, the card announcement card was sent, the route was planned, Jigen was in place, and you were none the wiser. Almost everything went perfectly, almost. This heist was a little too close for comfort, seeing as the authorities were more than willing to shoot at him and less than hesitant to aim for the head. Along side this, Inspector Zenigata was nowhere to be seen, which made Lupin more than uneasy. He pushed aside the strange feeling of uncertainty and focused, he had a proposal to do. 

Quickly, he evaded the authorities and once they were off his tail, he made his way over to you, parking a little ways from your home so that he could move undetected, hoping to surprise you. Only, he was the one to be surprised. Rather than your quiet block, usually still as stone in the night was light up with the flashing colors of the police. His first thoughts were of concern for your safety, slowly reaching into his chest holster inside his jacket. He creeps forward, ready to make his way over to your home, only to stop dead in his tracks at the site of Inspector Zenigata. So this is where he’s been.

Zenigata moves to the side, revealing your distressed frame. Lupin can hear the old man shout his name, pressing and interrogating you further. Every time pops insists, you deny harder ever knowing the thief. 

From the shadows, Lupin looks at you, frightened at this encounter and nearly in tears. Something inside Lupin clicked, something he secretly buried deep so that no one, not even himself would realize, and the weight of the ring in his pocket felt uncomfortably heavy. 

Quietly he turned, returning the way he came and climbed into his car. Turning off the radio and his phone, Lupin drove in silence. He drove, and he drove, and he drove until he faced the ocean at the end of a pier. Pulling out the ring and looking at it in his hand, he thought of all the memories he’s made with you, only for the image of your face in tears before the inspector overshadowed everything. 

Without another thought, he clutched the ring and cast it into the sea, praying it would sink to the bottom with what remained of his heart. In that moment he wanted to feel nothing, he wanted to feel nothing for a long, long time. after all, you deserved the best...so he was going to give it to you.

𓆩♡𓆪  Jigen  𓆩♡𓆪

For Jigen, he was more in denial than anything. The thought of loving someone was too much of a hassle, especially in his line of work. 

What he didn’t account for, is that his heart tends not to listen to his head. Which is what placed you in his hands.

Meeting was a coincidence, having met when you found his look out point while looking for a place to smoke. He threatened you, not wanting to risk someone exposing him to the authorities, only for you to shrug and ask if he had a light.

Jigen was taken aback by this and let out a sharp laugh in shock, but obliged and lit your cigarette before lighting his own. You stood there and talked with him while he waited for his signal. Not once did you ask what he was doing, hiding out on a rooftop with a scope and a gun, which he found strange but funny all the same. 

“I’m just some one who mind’s their business.” 

The more you spoke the more engrossed he got in your conversation, almost missing the light reflected at him from a casino Lupin was currently robbing blind. 

“Looks like that’s my signal too.” Jigen looks over to you from his scope, finger on the trigger as you shrug your jacket off and pull out a gun of your own. A grappling hook gun. 

Wordlessly, you shot the hook, shot him a wink, and swung yourself into a window to break through to the casino. 

Lupin was shouting at Jigen through his ear piece, asking for ‘a little assistance, please!’ After the botched casino heist and a grilling from Lupin about paying attention to his ques, Jigen began to come across you more frequently. From scoping out scenes, to coffee shops, to even on the street. In reality, rather than running into you more often, he subconsciously began seeking you out. 

Your alure was something he couldn’t fight no matter how hard he tried. From finding himself joining you when he see’s you, to finding himself helping you in heists, to eventually finding himself in your bed. Never again did want to pull away from you, or the comfort you brought. 

There was no label to what you two had, but that worked for you both. It was a balance that neither of you dared to break, well, at least he didn’t. You, on the other hands, had other plans. 

This balance you and him had so delicately crafted was shattered as you held a gun to the back of Lupin’s head, gently pulling an ancient scroll from the thief’s hands. Your eyes though, weren’t on Lupin, no, they were on Jigen. Watching, waiting. 

You hadn’t planned for things to turn out like this, really, you wanted to keep what you had with Jigen but the life of a thief is a lonely one. You couldn’t give up this score no matter what, the amount of cash it would bring in would set you up for life. You could even leave this life behind, make something of yourself. However, Jigen didn’t have any plans of being in that picture. 

Before he could even think on it, Jigen had drawn and pulled the trigger. The gun once pushed against the back of Lupin’s head, now clattered loudly to the floor along side your body. Never had he thought he would have to make this decision, and yet here he is. Neither he or Lupin said a word as Jigen made his way over to you, quietly collapsing onto his knees and pulling your body close to his own. He could feel the warmth he once knew so well fade from you along side any love he had left to give. 

Jigen was never quite the same after that night. He denies the change in behavior, brushing off any concern. He denies every caring over ‘some broad’. He denies the empty bottles of liquor by his bedside table, the long nights of aching in ways he didn’t know he could, and the tear stained picture he holds to his heart of you laying with him in bed, where he now sits alone.

𓆩♡𓆪 Goemon 𓆩♡𓆪

Finding your shop was like finding an oasis in the desert. After pushing the door open to your little tea shop, Goemon practically fell for you at first sight. 

Goemon is someone who fall quickly; gives his heart away without saying a word. He is the kind of person who loves from afar and you were no different. 

You captivated him, talking on an on about all the teas in your shop, things that would happen with customers, random or shared interests. He wanted to hear all of it, so he would sit silently at the counter nursing his cup, taking only small sips to make it last as long as he could. 

You would ask him about himself but he would fumble over his words, your attention flustering him. He could never give you the full truth in his answers but still told some

“What do you do for a living?” “I help my friends with various jobs.” “Why do you carry around that sword?” “I can’t bear to part with it.”

The more time he spent with you, the harder it was to leave after every visit. Some days, he considers stopping in more than once, but anxious thoughts quicky talk him out of it. 

With you, he felt a way he could never put into words. Just seeing you put him at peace, a calm that he craves like no other. At almost every moment of the day, up until he walks through your shop doors, he is thinking of you.

Though as the days passed, his time with you dwindled. Lupin’s heist plans were coming to fruition and he knew after things went down he would need to leave along side his friends. He felt conflicted, sure he cared for his friends and the life he had built but the thought of no longer being able to see you left a weird feeling in his stomach. 

He thought long and hard about what he should do. He can’t risk staying in fear of the authorities, much worse, involving you with them while he is still wanted by the local authorities. 

Ultimately, Goemon made the decision to leave. One robbery later and there was a note attached to the front of your store doors. Inside, the samurai detailed who he was, why you wouldn’t see him and a single request.

“Wait for me.”

Goemon doesn’t stop thinking about you, not once,  and that love for you bloomed even apart from you. When he did finally return, he wasn’t greeted with your smile, the chiming of the bell from the front door, or the tea displayed in the front window. Instead he was greeted with a cold, empty building. No sign of you anywhere to be seen.

He was in denial at first. You wouldn’t leave without saying anything, you would have left some note, right? Or, what if something had happened to you! Goemon would go to the nearby shops and ask about you, which always lead to the same answer, “She closed down shop.”

Goemon would still visit your shop, standing outside the old building and starring into the window, longing for you to walk behind the counter from the back and wave at him to come in. Except that wasn’t going to happen, you were gone, and nothing is really going to bring you back. 

Once more, the samurai had fallen for someone, giving away his heart without having said a word. He would eventually come to terms with things, but for now, he will mourn what was never really there. 

𓆩♡𓆪Fujiko 𓆩♡𓆪

Fujiko Mine is the kind of woman to never let her true feelings be known, not ever to herself sometimes.

She’ll whisper sweet nothing to you, trail her fingers up your spine with an unmatched raw intimacy, then leave you penniless by sunrise. It was nothing short of an art form in her beautiful hands

When she had met you, Fujiko was enamored by your presence. Originally, she was planning to nab the man on your arm, an heir to some company but plans quickly changed when you entered her world. 

First it was just basic compliments and pleasantries, the things you would expect from these fancy parties, then it went to witty back and forth banter to her even telling you about her exploits. It felt so natural to talk with you, to move with you, to exist with you. 

Sure, Fujiko was eyeing the nice pearl earrings you wore with necklace to match, she found herself thinking of what would suit you better than if they would suit her. 

After that party, she would seek you out regularly. She would find herself wanting to treat you to nice meals, pretty outfits she would like to take off you, even stealing precious things to see your eyes shimmer with wonder and astonishment. She wanted to see you smile at no one but her.

When you would find her on the job at parties you would attend, it would become a sort of game of cat and mouse. She’s target some treasure, you would try and distract her, and then you both would have your fun. 

The thrill you both had once sought from your relationship had never really faded, rather, it changed into something more. Rushed kisses in the shadows became soft and shared in the new light of the morning, Desperate touches became gentle caresses as you both would lay next to one another at night. Extravagant meals at fancy restraints became burnt eggs and bacon with waffles made just the way she liked. Though different, it was still all the same.

The longer this went on, the more Fujiko wanted more of you. When she had time alone with her thoughts, she would find her mind drifting to you...but she could never figure out why. Yes, she enjoyed being around you more than she could have ever imagined but its something more, she can’t place her finger on it.  

Even in the heat of the moment, as she hold you, asking you to come with her, she still can’t tell you what it is. No matter how much you beg her, saying if she wants you, she needs to tell you but she can’t. Fujiko Mine is the kind of woman to never let her true feelings be known, not even to herself.

You’ve never asked anything from her, but she would give everything to you if you wanted. Yet, despite this, she could never say the one thing you wanted to your face. 

𓆩♡𓆪Zenigata 𓆩♡𓆪

The inspector has never been the sharpest knife in the pencil box when it came to love, much less how to handle heart break. 

When Zenigata and you fell in love, it was long before his chase for Lupin began. He was a pretty well respected officer that had a heart of gold, something you had always admired. 

Koichi loved you with every bit of himself, so much so that sometimes he would find himself considering a different career just to stay beside you more often

His hours were long and hard with his job, not to mention dangerous. The both of you would be stressing about one another through out the day only to be finally reunited when you both came home. 

Your life with him wasn’t easy but it was something the two of you built together, it was yours

That was until the inspector’s encounter with Lupin after an over seas trip to the US. It began a change in him that you’d never seen before. He was passionate about his job, sure, but this was something completely different. Zenigata came home rambling on about the ICPO and his chance to apply. 

You wanted to support the person you loved in all that he did but this... it meant that he would be away for months on end.

Zenigata, in all his excitement and passion, failed to notice that your smile wasn’t quite all there. Nonetheless, he would hug and kiss you all the same, declaring his love for you and all the support you’ve given him. 

This job opportunity wasn’t without thought, he took a lot of deliberation and came to the conclusion that this was truly his calling. 

Thus, the journey toward catching the world renowned thief began. No matter where in the world he was, he would always find time to call you, even if he needed to stay up late or get up early to make up the time difference. He would always tell you about all the things he’s seeing in the world, gently thumbing a picture he had of you in his wallet. 

As time went on though, those phone calls became shorter and mre infrequent. Your home was now just yours alone, now absent of the boisterous man you had once loved. You knew deep down that if you asked him to come home, asked him to quit his pursuit, he would without question but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You loved him too much to ask him to give all that up. 

Instead, it would be you that would give him up. It broke your heart and his, more than you would ever know. After your last phone call with him, he sat in his hotel room in disbelief, the phone line had long since gone dead. A sob tore from him as he felt an ache like no other, a hole where you once were. 

For a while, Zenigata couldn’t even put his heart into his work, everything felt wrong. He felt sick looking at himself in the mirror, seeing the man who couldn’t even put his loved one before his career, too blinded by ambition. 

No more! He was tired of this shell he has become, Koichi will bring Lupin to justice, he will return home, and he’ll show you that you mean more than anything to him!

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