#just head full of curly haired woozi

[roxannarichie]

The Anomaly | Miguel O’Hara

Someone on my google formed asked me the inspiration for “Anomaly” and this TikTok video/ audio inspired me. For a week I just was infatuated with Miguel character and then after watching this video, I felt bad for him.

CHAPTER TWO: FIVE SENSES

TW: Mentions of Blood, Mentions of arousal

Miguel walks through the pixelated portal into a seemingly normal world. Observing his surroundings, it was two hours away from midnight. He gazed at the device on his wrist. In this world, it was 2023, New York City— instead of Nueva City like in his universe—10:47 pm. The device vibrated, alarming Miguel of the location of the anomaly. He hummed to himself, there was no way this woman was out at night this late— in New York City.

Knowing that this woman was not Spider-woman in her world made him wonder who was? This also meant it wasn’t smart to just snatch her off the street…

That is what you would think Miguel would have thought but no, he literally was planning to snatch her up, paralyze her with his teeth and take her back to HQ for tests and questioning. Staying in the shadow, he follows the anomaly. Spotting the anomaly, he tilted his head to the side. She was exiting what seemed to be karaoke club. She was smiling and laughing at whoever was on the other side of the door. She waved at the unknown person and walks to a light and cross the street and coming down the street he was on.

“Buena niña, coming right into my we“ Miguel wavered. As he inhaled he was overcome by an immense amount of… he didn’t even know what to call it. It’s was strange. Miguel has never in his life, no matter the universe smelled something so…good. His heart began to pick up pace, his breath was short and his forehead had a brand new layer of sweat. He quickly climbed down and back into the alleyway, where he first appeared. His eyes wide under his mask, why was he shaking. His body trembled and he felt a knot and a burning sensation in his belly. He held his underbelly as the sensation swelled. He groans in confusion, “W-what the fuck–“

He moaned as another wave of sensation came over him, the smell was getting closer. He didn’t even know if this was supposed to be painful, he gasped as he felt the blood rushing not only to his face but to—

“Hello? Is someone back here.” A voice of a woman, who he knew was the anomaly called into the dark alleyway. As her smell got closer and more suffocating, the more woozy, he became. He felt blood fall down his mouth and on to the floor. He would absolutely not let this be how the anomaly saw him. “Stay back!”

He yelled at her, a trowel from deep in his throat came out. “But you smell funny..” She replied. This caused Miguel to think, this affect on him must be something that only happens in the universe. He already has heightened senses but it seemed everyone on this earth emitted a large and noticeable amount of smell. He finally noticed the lingering smell of other people that didn’t seems to affect him much. He turned to look at her face but his vision was blurry, shit.

Was he about to pass out? there’s no way? His body leaned over, slowly loses his senses, and he loses consciousness.

*

His hearing was the first thing he gained back and he was rewarded with a constant beeping sound...What is that noise? The first thing he saw was a white ceiling and an IV line. He slightly shivered as he felt the cold air. Observing his surroundings, he laid eyes on her. The anomaly...

Hearing his movement, she looked over to see him staring at her. “Yr’awake, how do you feel?”

Now that his vision was no longer blurry, he got a great view of her face, a spider's view. She had big brown eyes and big auburn curly hair. She has a dimple on her left check that appeared even if she wasn't smiling and showing her pearly whites. Her dimples were accompanied with a round face and a little baby fat on her round high cheeks that didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. Her lips where full and... inviting, no! If he had seen her on the street he would have most definitely not have thought she was twenty-five years old. As all his senses returned panic began to rise as he realized he was in a hospital. His hand ran over his face, he exhaled a breathe of relief when he felt his mask was still in place, “I made sure no one touched the mask, gotta be a reason you wearin’ one.” Miguel noticed the accent as his body started to calm itself down, the accent then explained the reason for the odd name. “Who are you?” she asked.

It seemed she had not taken a peak under his mask, at least she has integrity. “Miguel.” He answered plainly

“What happened?” he asked referring to the event that caused him to lose his pride and consciousness. He looked over at her waiting for an answer. “You don't know, that strange, everyone know—”

“I'm not from here.”

Willow was confused, even if he wasn't from New York, he would still know what happen to him because this isn't a cultural thing, it's a biological reaction.

“Ion understand, did your parents shelter you or sumthin’?” She have him a odd look as if he was the weird one. “No– how am I going to explain this..” he looked over at his wrist.

“Oh wow that looks advanced.” Willows interests were peaked as she watched his type something into his ‘watch’. Miguel groaned internally has it turned off the “do not disturb” button, he was about to hear a mouth full from Lyla.

“If I was human I would put you in a watch for over 12 hours and lock you away so you know how it felt to be in a watch. Do you know how nerve wreaking it is to be able to have access to you vitals and to watch you go unconscious and not being able to do noth— oh my gosh it's the anomaly– hi!” Lyla rants until she finally noticed the woman on the other bed, Lyla frantically waves at Willow with a big smile. Willow hesitantly waved back.

“Can you please explain what goin’ and who you people are?” Willow asked, she had never seen something so futurist. Miguel sighe, Lyla gave him a knowing look. He hated this part of the job...

“My name....is Miguel O’Hara. I lead an elite strike force dedicated to the security of the multiverse…”

Previously | Next

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#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #miguel o’hara x black reader

[ventingfanfics]

Best Girlfriend

Shuri just arrived at your place, but her coming directly to you is being delayed. Your family is talking her head off downstairs, not that she seems to mind. She graciously  interacts with them. The only thing better than coming here to see you is your family welcoming it. A part of you considers half-jokingly saying: Hey, can I have my girlfriend back?

You choose not to, however, and stay laid up on your bed idly watching a Christmas movie on BET+.

When Shuri finally makes it to you, both your faces gleam. You get up to greet her and she gives you the biggest hug, wrapping you up in her love. The kiss you share is even longer than the embrace. For a moment, you believe that all is right with your world. While having someone in your life like Shuri is incredible in of itself, it doesn’t make your life perfect. But it sure as hell makes it better. 

“I think you missed me,” she says with a full smile before following you to your bed. She’s so busy watching you that by the time she asks you about the movie you’re watching, you can’t help but chortle. You press one of those buttons on the remote to get more information on the film and she nods, humming inquisitively. It has some of her attention but she’s more interested in you. “So how are you, baby?” 

“Happy you’re here,” you said, sending her a sweet smile. 

“I know, baby, me too. How was your day?”

You shrug, not even smiling a little bit, the memories of today making your chest woozy. Realizing Shuri can practically see through you, you attempt to relax your visage and laugh at something in the movie. 

You feel a gentle caress on your belly and this carries on as you two watch the movie. Then, you shake your head in realization. “I didn’t even ask about your day…”

Shuri chuckles. “I told you, remember? Over text.”

You then remember her mentioning that work was work and that she couldn’t wait to see you, and how she would be seeing her nephew again soon. “Yeahhh, that’s right. My bad, I remember now. Sorry, babe.”

“No worries, baby,” she cooed and kissed your forehead. “Can you come closer though? You’re too far.” She laughs some and without waiting for an answer, she slides you in between her legs, with your back on her front. A sensation trickles through your scalp as she massages your natural curly hair. 

“I’m getting it braided,” you mention.

“Ooh, I know it’s gonna be so pretty. Like always.” Shuri’s always complimenting your hair. She’s a fan of every hairstyle you rock. 

“You need to start learning how to braid.” You give her a look.

“I will. You won’t even have to get it done from someone else.” She’s about to ask when you’re planning to get your braids when she notices you part your lips. She lets the words die on her tongue and listens to you. 

“Babe, I didn’t have the best day today,” you admit. You like making eye contact with her, however, it’s easier to say this while not. “It’s okay,” you chuckle and glance up at her when you notice she goes still. She’d even stopped playing in your hair. Simpering, she slowly resumes her ministrations. “Maybe you need to move in.” Of course that’s a joke, but there’s a reason you say it. “What you experienced downstairs when you came? It hasn’t felt like that here in…all year, basically.”

You add that sometimes you feel concerned about your parents and that you think they should seek counseling, especially one of your parents in particular. 

“Is this why you have’t been sleeping?” 

“Huh?” She’s slow to speak. “Damn, is it that obvious?”

“Well, Y/N, I know we often stay up all night talking, but even on days we don’t, you’re not getting a proper night’s rest…and you’re not eating that much…” 

You sat up. “Who told you that?”

“Your family, baby.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Oh, really? Did they also tell you that they need help?”

Shuri sighs a bit, looking off to the side. “No. Look, Y/N, baby, this was my first time hearing any of this.” Now she’s eyeing you earnestly. “Is the drama taking a toll on you?” She grasps your jaw when you attempt to avoid eye contact. 

“I guess it is. But like you said, we also stay up late too.”

“Maybe we’ll have to change that.”

“It’s how we keep this long distance alive,” you said, looking at her like she’s crazy. 

“Yes, love, but I thought you were getting rest on the other days.” She rubs your knee and gives it a small squeeze. “Family drama can be tough. I think you should talk to them. They can already see something is wrong. Tell them where you stand. Give them an ultimatum.”

“It’s funny you say that because I am planning to move soon.”

“With me?” 

You’ve discussed your plans to get your own place, and Shuri has offered on multiple occasions for you to live in Wakanda with her. 

“There’s no one else I’d rather live with,” you tell her. 

“Rather?” She repeats and you laugh. 

“You know I would love to live with you, but just let me get settled first.”

She nods. “No rush, mamas. Did I say that right?”

You giggle and confirm that she did. “I’m proud of you!” 

After a beat, she kisses your cheek gently. “I promise that things will look up. I’ll be right here to help you through it all. We have to start taking better care of ourselves.” You hug her waist and feel comforted by her chin atop your head. “Can I make a request?” You nod in the crook of her neck and she smiles lazily. “Use your words, mamas.”

“Yes, baby. How can I help you?” Amusement fills your air. 

“I care about every little detail about you, so what would make you think I wouldn’t care about your pain?” Her eyes are already locked on you when you look up. You just look back at her, feeling somewhat like a child. “I ask, please, that you let me in. I can’t force you, but you can come to me, Y/N. Even if I’m at the lab.” She rolls her eyes, laughing when you say “Whoa” about the latter. “Please, promise me, princess.”

You look right at her. “I promise. But you have to promise me as well. I care just as much about you and want to have your back always.”

Her gaze is full of affection and conviction. “I’m so lucky to have someone as beautiful as you, who truly cares about me—the person.”

You smile and bring her into a tender kiss that she gladly indulges. Because you’re having a moment, she keeps it chaste. When your lips take a break from each other, you tell her she’s the best girlfriend. 

“I’m glad you know this about yourself, Y/N.” 

You spend the next minute or so outdoing each other with the compliments, neither of you refusing to back down. You pout when you notice her trying to leave. Her laugh is melodic and she’s quick to press a kiss to your neck. “I’m not going far, my love.” You watch with a furled brow and then chuckle when she retrieves your hair container. She sets it down and smoothly arches a brow of her own, holding up one of the small tooth combs, silently asking for your permission.

“I want to test out my braiding skills,” Shuri says earning a grin.

To her delight you say, “Let’s see what you got. But please, be gentle.” 

“Always,” she reminds you. “Can I choose the next movie?” 

#shuri x reader #shuri x you #shuri x y/n #shuri x f!reader #shuri fluff #shuri black panther #shuri fanfiction #princess shuri #queen shuri #mcu shuri

[seungminki]

random moments i think about a lot [1/?]: curly haired woozi

#was looking for cute joshua clips but found curly haired woozi instead #just head full of curly haired woozi #i have sem end exams starting in a week #what am i doing wasting my time on tumblr #mine #user:seungminki #woozi #svt #seventeen #svt woozi #jihoon #svt jihoon #yu tries giffing #yugifs #gifs:mine #gifs:softkpophours

[hrwinter]

the emergency room fic snippet took me out hgjgjghfh

Kara's not sure if it's the recently waking up from anesthesia or if she really is witnessing the most gorgeous creature to ever grace this planet seated, cross-legged in the outpatient waiting room.

"Hi!" she finds herself sitting right next to the woman and practically shouting directly into her face.

Smooth, Danvers, she thinks. What can she say, she's always had game.

The woman stares back at Kara's suddenly very close proximity, doe eyed, irises round and the most tantalizing shade of sea foam green Kara's ever seen.

"Did you just—" Kara points inelegantly back at the door a nurse had just ushered her through, "have a surgery?"

The woman eyes her, a little wary, before replying.

"An endoscopy."

Kara gasps, reaching for the woman's hands (a little cold) and holding them in her overly warm ones. She rubs them together in an effort to bring heat into the stranger's fingers. The woman simply continues to stare, perplexed.

"Me too! Did yours go well? What are you in for?"

"You're very friendly," the woman states bluntly.

"Oh, sorry," Kara pulls her hands away. "I'm Kara."

"Lena," the woman says, still a little stiff but a small smile forming at the corner of her mouth.

Kara makes a conscientious effort to keep her hands in her lap like an overeager child as she waits for Lena to answer.

"And I have an ulcer, they think," Lena says, touching delicately at her stomach. "Too much coffee and working, not enough eating."

Kara winces. "Those are painful, right?"

Lena nods. "What about you?"

"I ate four mega sized bags of candy corn."

The face Lena pulls is one of total, abject disgust.

"Candy corn? Why?"

"It was a Halloween dare from my sister," Kara shrugs. "My stomach hasn't been the same since."

"I should think not."

Kara laughs at the woman's impeccable diction, like she could be one of those reading voice models. Or a librarian. A sexy librarian.

"Honestly right now I feel more woozy from the anesthesia."

"Me too," Lena agrees, staring down at her hands and flexing them open and closed. Such lovely hands. Big, Kara thinks.

She's not sure how long they both stare down at Lena's hands, Kara's elbow bent on Lena's armrest, holding her chin in her palm, before she thinks to add,

"Can you believe they warned us not to gamble? Or buy a car? Isn't that crazy?”

"Completely."

"Although," Kara adds with an unnoticed slur to her words, her voice sing song pitching up and down. “If I could buy any car right now, I'd totally buy one of those sports cars with the butterfly doors."

"Like a McLaren?"

"Sure."

"My friend Bruce has one. I think I've seen it in his garage."

"Damn, is he rich?"

“I’m rich too,” Lena holds out her hands as if she's dropping invisible dollar bills all over the waiting room floor.

“But I'm boring," she says with a slump of her shoulders. "I always use a town car. My driver's name is George."

"George," Kara echoes. "Why do guys always get to be so flashy? You should get yourself a sports car for, like, female empowerment and stuff."

"You're right," Lena agrees with an unsteady nod of her head. "It's not fair. Let’s go buy one.”

Kara swoons closer, heavily encroaching over the boundary between their two respective chairs. The space between them is nearly nonexistent. The anesthesia side effects are definitely feeling more present.

“I think you’re my soulmate," Kara says, entirely uncensored.

Lena locks eyes with her for one boundless moment before she shakes her head hard, like a puppy trying to shake out wet fur.

"No, you wouldn't like me if you knew me. I am so scary," Lena tells Kara with such sincere earnestness, head bowed towards her. "Like so scary. I’m a CEO."

"That's cool!" Kara cheers, and before she can stop herself she's holding Lena's hands again. "And there's no way you're scary. You’re so nice and soft," she rubs Lena's fingers.

Kara's not quite sure what happens next. Lena sort of pulls at her hands, an unspoken invitation, and Kara's already halfway out of her seat, and it just makes… sense for her to fully get into Lena's lap.

The waiting room chair is perfectly sized for the both of them. Lena's hands anchor Kara, squeezing at her backside. It's heaven.

"You smell good," Lena comments dreamily, leaning forward to inhale at Kara's neck. Then suddenly she jumps back, jostling Kara in her lap.

"Oh my god, I’m gay!"

Kara stares at her, hypnotized by the river of small blue veins at Lena's temple and forehead.

"Oh," she starts. "Did you just… realize?"

"Yes—" Lena half shouts, then, "I mean no, I just had to tell you. So, be careful."

Kara laughs, wrapping her arms around Lena's neck. She massages her fingers into Lena's shoulders, and Lena sighs, reluctantly relaxing by degrees. Kara smiles, goofy.

"With what? Your feelings? Anyways, I’m bi."

"Oh." Lena mirrors Kara's words. "Are you single?"

"Give me your number," Kara replies in lieu of an answer.

They both scramble for their phones, Kara reaching into her back pocket and Lena fishing into an expensive looking hand bag. Kara sits backs on Lena's thighs and proceeds to ignore several texts from her sister. And what should be a simple swap of phone numbers becomes an impromptu photo shoot with lots of giggling and vaguely inappropriate touching.

"What is going on here?"

Kara pivots in Lena's lap, recognizing the voice of her sister coming from the open doorway.

"Alex?"

Lena's head has snapped to the door, too, eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?" she says with a squeeze of Kara's hips.

Alex's eyebrow raises, challenging.

"Who are you?"

Kara might actually hear Lena growl then.

"Lena?" another voice joins them.

Alex swivels to look at a woman just over her shoulder, tall and stately with legs for days. She has curly brown hair and soft, bedroom eyes.

"Who are you?" Kara finds her own voice grumbling.

"Sam!" Lena glows.

Who is Sam?!

Sam's eyes rove over the pair of them, and she raises a hand to her mouth to cover a smile. Kara reluctantly extricates herself from Lena's lap, standing but keeping hold of her hand.

"Um, Kar," Alex says, eyebrows threading closer and closer together by the second. "We have to go, so maybe let go of the stranger's hand."

"She's not a stranger, this is Lena!" Kara announces. "And I want her to come with us."

Sam snorts.

"What? No, Kara, we're going home," Alex takes a step into the room, and Lena squeezes Kara's hand possessively. "You need to get some sleep and recover."

"You, too, Lena," Sam intones, still lingering in the doorway.

"No!" Lena practically shouts, standing too. "I feel fine. We’re going to buy a car, actually."

Alex's jaw drops open.

"No, honey," Sam steps toward the pair of them then.

"Honey?" Kara asks, back bowing.

"Down girl," Sam quips in her direction. "We’re just friends."

"No, I’m your boss," Lena snaps at Sam, pointing, but it's as threatening as a five year old making demands about bathtime. "I tell you what to do."

Kara giggles.

"See, I’m mean," Lena gloats to Kara.

"No."

"Oh my god," Alex pinches the bridge of her nose. "This is a fucking mess, we're leaving. Now."

Kara stands taller at the warning nature of Alex's tone, and what follows is an absolute spectacle. It involves Alex chasing Kara around the room, Sam laughing loudly, and Lena threatening her and the entire hospital staff. It ends with Alex rough housing Kara inside of her Tahoe with threats of 'you owe me for life' and 'I can't fucking believe you." But Kara doesn't hear any of it, asleep by the time Alex gets into the driver's seat.

---

The next day, Kara wakes up late. There's a gloomy dark space where her memory of the day before should be, but she can't worry about that now. Instead, she groggily makes her way outside of her room, in search of the delicious coffee smell emanating from the kitchen. Alex stands there at her island, a sentinel, as if she's been up all night and waiting for this moment.

"How are we feeling today?" she asks neutrally.

"Terrible," Kara pours herself a cup of coffee.

"So…" her sister trails off, drumming her fingers, and Kara gets the distinct impression she's not going to like what comes out of her mouth next.

"Remember when you mounted Lena Luthor in the waiting room?"

Kara gapes at her.

"What? No, I didn’t. And who?"

"Lena Luthor," her sister repeats. "You were full on in her lap."

"You're lying," Kara splays herself over the couch. "I don't—remember anything. And Lena Luthor? The tech mogul?"

Alex ignores her.

"I had to take away your phone, and then you threw up in the shower. You don't remember that?"

"I was under anesthesia. I can't be held accountable for my actions," Kara shoves a pillow over her face, hoping it will block out the sound of her sister's voice.

"You're telling me you don't remember this woman?"

There's a slap of paper on her coffee table. Kara moves the pillow away, cracking open one eye to gaze down at the cover of a Popular Mechanics magazine. It's graced by a woman with gorgeous black hair with eyes an endless emerald green. She looks familiar, but Kara's not going to let her sister pull her chain today.

"Stop messing with me, Alex, it's not funny."

Alex glares back at her. "You really don't remember."

Kara grumbles and places the pillow back over her face.

"Check your texts," Alex lobs Kara's phone, and it hits her square in the stomach.

"Ow!" she shouts, chucking the pillow at Alex who dodges it easily. She sips at her coffee smugly.

Kara unlocks her phone, eyebrows furrowing, and reads her last text.

"OH MY GOD!"

"When we came back to your apartment," Alex continues, enjoying herself too much. "You kept trying to make out with your fern plant. You kept calling it Lena."

"STOP!"

"You tried to eat a frozen pizza."

"SHUT UP!"

#supercorp #hr’s askhole #supergirl #Lena Luthor #Kara Danvers #ficlet #fanfic #loosely based on an experience I had with a fellow gay man in the post op waiting room

[clintbartonswife]

tender but tough

Pairings: Wade Wilson x Peter Parker Summary: Ever since Vanessa, Wade had been scorned from even a friendly shoulder touch even when he was in the suit. Peter realises this. Whumptober no.6: touch and go Notes: touch starved wade, college!peter parker, not as angsty, but the whump’s there. masterlist

Watching Wade Wilson was a pastime that Peter had come to love. 

Ever since meeting him a few weeks ago, he had been drawn to the man, watching from afar as he tried to work up the courage to speak to him once more.

Upon spying (Ned had called it stalking but he had quickly stated that he didn't seek the masked man out, instead only watching him when he naturally came across him in the city. The word was quickly changed to ‘pool spotting’, and Peter had grudgingly complied.) on Wade, he had managed to come to three conclusions.

Number one: Wade Wilson was a creature of habit. Despite his seemingly erratic movements, he would always buy food from the same three places - if he didn’t already have a pre-cooked meal in his hello kitty lunchbox. Peter had at first wondered if that meant that Wade had someone at home who cooked for him, but after a very loud conversation on a roof with someone called ‘yellow’ and ‘white’, knew for certain that he was “painfully alone and in desperate need of a quick fuck or someone to hold”. He especially loved his Mexican food, often returning to his favourite roof top with two bulging bags of of the stuff.

Number two: Wade kills, and he does it a concerning amount. Normally, whenever Peter was on his pool spotting expeditions and he saw him getting his katanas out (he had once heard him call them Bea and Arthur), he would swing by, web up the bad guy, and swing away while shouting some different iteration of ‘don’t kill him, please!’. He would later hear people talking about others Deadpool had killed once he had gone home, though the webbed ones were never touched. Peter prided himself on his very anti-killing stance, but something about Wade made him curious - enough to put his moral code on the backburner and instead feel the need to help him change for the better.

Number three, and arguably the most important: He had never seen anyone touch him. Sure, people had thrown punches, violently approached him, but never once had he seen anyone touch him with anything less than hate. This is what finally convinced Peter to approach him.

“Hey Webs”

Wade was sat with his legs overhanging the roof of the building, mask half pulled up over his face and a burrito halfway to his mouth. 

Peter took a deep breath before he spoke, settling his nerves, “Hi Wade.”

“Aaah, he speaks! How are you doing baby boy.”

Peter flushed at the nickname, face heating up under his mask, “Uhh -”

Wade let out a laugh, placing his burrito down and pulling his mask back over his face before turning to face him, “Well, he tries to speak.” Wade tilted his head to the side slightly, patting the surface next to him, waiting until Peter sat beside him, “I’ve been seeing you around a lot, but we haven’t really spoken since the last - no Yellow I’m not trying to guilt him - shut up White.”

Peter just looked at him.

“Sorry - it’s the boxes-” Deadpool said, with a strong jersey accent, waving his hands around his head animatedly, “You wouldn’t get that reference, shame. I love Margot Robbie.”

“Who?”

“Oh, Webs” Deadpool sighed, patting his masked cheek condescendingly, “The world of joy you’re missing out on.”

That’s another thing that Peter found out after hanging out around Deadpool for a few months - he would instigate touch, but shy away whenever Peter would go to return it, shrugging it off with a quick joke or pun.

-

It was on the third month of knowing Deadpool that Peter decided he would address it. The two of them had become extremely close, and Peter had found himself trusting the older man quicker than he ever had before. It was only one day at Stark tower during a quick drop-in visit to see Tony, that the billionaire had pointed out how quickly Peter had become comfortable with him.

“Webs, webs, webs. To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you today?”

Peter smiled, sitting cross-legged beside Wade as he unloaded the two bags of Mexican food. “Just wanted to see your gorgeous face, as always.”

“Always a charmer - and a beautiful liar at that.”

“How do you know I’m beautiful? For all you know I could look like a troll under this mask and you’d never know.”

Wade’s mask warped as he raised his eyebrow, “With an ass that phat? Baby boy, you’re nothing short of an angel.”

He wouldn’t know why he had done this until many years after the fact, looking back in hindsight. Peter had let out a small laugh, and ripped his mask of with a grin, “Well damn Wade, someone would think that you’re sweet talking me.”

Wade went quiet - something Peter had never known him to be - and sat back heavily. At the silence, the younger man’s smile dropped slightly, turning more nervous, “Is this a case of ‘if you’ve got nothing nice to say don’t say anything at all’ type-a deal?”

“No.” the answer was so fast that Peter let a nervous laugh escape, “You’re - you look better than every wet dream I’ve had about you combined.”

Peter laughed loudly at that, relief making his head feel slightly woozy, raking his hands through his curly hair. 

“I’m not kidding - I mean I knew your body was good - but your face! ” Wade’s voice was higher than it normally was, disbelief clear in his tone, “You gotta body of a stripper and face of an angel, y’know that?”

“Wade-”

“And you blush pretty too, it’s like god took every one of my dirty fantasies -” Wade’s rant was cut off as Peter placed a hand on his shoulder, eyes widening at the soft touch, “Webs -?”

“Peter,” he smiled, moving his free hand to slowly start removing his mask, “My name’s Peter.”

Wade repeated it like a prayer, so distracted by the feel of the letters on his lips that he didn’t even move to stop the action. Peter let his finger brush against the textured skin of his cheek, Wade going completely still at the contact.

“Pete... what are you doing?”

He just smiled, moving his other hand to cup the other side of his cheek as he lifted the mask all of the way off. “Beautiful.” The one word seemed to strike Wade at his core, the man melting in to his hand before coming to his senses and pulling back slightly. 

“You are,” he insisted, “fuck anyone who says anything else.”

“Oooh, little spidey used the f-word.”

Peter shot him an unimpressed look, “Wade.”

The mercenary just huffed, seemingly losing the internal battle against himself and the boxes as he let himself relax in to Peter’s hands once more. The younger man just watched as Wade’s body seemed to completely loosen, as if he was crumbling right before his eyes. 

As if on delayed time, Wade’s eyes began to water, “I - I don’t know why-”

“It’s ok, Wade,” Peter said, instantly moving closer and enveloping him in a hug, taking the full weight as he relaxed completely into the hold, “It’s ok.”

Peter just held him as he felt the merc’s tears wetting the front of his suit, slowly moving his hand up and down Wade’s back. The rhythmic motion seemed to lull both of them into a comfortable silence, one which was only broken by the sharp sudden breaths of the man in his arms.

Wade had been quiet for too long, eventually pulling slightly back from the hug but taking great care to keep contact, “If you can make me this weak with a hug, I cant wait for when you finally take me home and bang me into next year.”

“Wade!”

Sniggering, Wade leaned back into the hold, burying his face in Peter’s neck, “Well if you’re offering, I’m sure gonna make the most of it, Webs.”

#whumptober2021 #no.6 #touch starved #marvel #spideypool #deadpool #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman x deadpool #whump #fluff #peter parker x deadpool #fanfiction #marvel fic #spideypool whump #wade wilson

[allyvampirelass29]

Patrick’s Apparition

A Patrick Melrose Fanfiction  By: Allyssa J. Watkins

Patrick Melrose sat in the long turquoise tub, with both knees up, wearing a soaking-wet, light blue button up and nothing else. He fixed the collar of his shirt and then had another long, slow draught of his single malt scotch, finishing the glass, woozy, watching the soapy water escape down the drain. Funny thing about baths........ they seemed to have a powerful way of cleansing the soul as well as calming the body. Especially when they were taken with a certain intoxication at three in the morning. He couldn't get enough of them these days. There was a freedom in quitting the starchy clothes, and constricting frippery that propriety demand he wear, delighting in his own nakedness, his skin allowed to breathe at last. He loved it. He'd sink his wildly curly red head beneath the water, listen to all the noise, the voices inside, the internal screaming fade away, and hold his breath, counting, challenging himself to stay under as long as he possibly could. For in those moments, submerged, life paused, and he found a peace, that even the sweetest air in waking existence couldn't afford him. Every moment he counted was one more second he didn't want to drink, and every gasping breath breaking the surface, was one more choice to live.

"Patrick?"

Patrick flinched with the sound of the sweet young woman's voice, hastily pulling a towel into his lap, over his knees as he sat in the empty tub, looking up to see her perched upon the raised tile, brown silky curls falling in her curious green eyes.

"I thought you might show up......" He said with a smile, pouring himself another drink, enjoying her shy blush. Ally........ The brunette that was everywhere and nowhere all at once. She was one of his ghosts you might say, one of the voices in his head.

"You know I can't resist you, when you're in the bath, especially when you sit like that with your gorgeous knees."

"Naughty girl. What would your mother say? Being so brazen in the presence of a man who is drunk and very much undressed, entertaining some desperate need to be disorderly. Shut up. Nobody has gorgeous knees."

"You do, Patrick. And you're neither drunk nor disorderly, though I see you're well on your way towards it."

"You have no idea."

"What do I have to do to get you not to drink that?"

"Be one hell of a distraction."

She smiled sweetly at him, meadow eyes dancing, looking rather lovely for a figment of his imagination dressed in moonlight and a short white gauzy night dress.

"Come on then, and sit with me awhile, I won't tell." He teased, reluctantly setting down the glass, despite every ache to drink it.

Ally fluttered down from the tile, and nestled tentatively into the empty tub, resting her curly head on his wet shoulder. She was one of the new ones. Started cropping up about four years ago. The more appealing of his ghosts. Do you still call it haunting, if the lingering is pleasant?

He wrapped his arm around her, marveling at how at ease he felt, how normal. Maybe that was the secret. Maybe the woman had to be imagined for it to feel this real.

"I miss you......." She said with a breathy sigh, and he turned his head just slightly, smelling her hair.

"I know, I miss you too. You're so much nicer than all the others. Loveliness in the loneliness. Sometimes your tenderness is torturous. Why do you have to make everything so damn difficult by not being real?"

Her hand curled around his knee, and he hid his face in her hair, trying not to think about that full glass, sliding further away across the tile, just out of reach.

"You wouldn't want me if I was real, Patrick....... you wouldn't think I was magic, and I wouldn't be able to do this........."

She kissed him the same way he'd taken every drink his entire life, with that quiet desperation, that rampant revelry. He let her kiss him, closing his weary eyes, knowing it was really the night air he was tasting and not this youthful innocence.

"I would still want you. But I wouldn't want to worry about losing you to my incessant vices, so I'll take you just as you are now....... a pretty apparition, sneaking into the bath with me."

"You could never lose me, Patrick. I'll be here....... after every bath. Every glass, and cigarette, and nefarious substance. After every dark thought that drives you to them, I'll be here....... to distract you."

Patrick felt the tears sting his eyes, and he felt naked in a way that had nothing to do with his current state of dress.

"I wouldn't let you do that if you were real......." He said shakily, suddenly thinking about nefarious substances.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not. You're stuck with me haunting you, I'm afraid." She kissed his cheek sleepily, and his dripping hand stroked her curls with wet fingers.

"Of all the things haunting me, all the eccentricities trapped in my restless, ravaged head, you are most welcome, Miss."

He laid on his back, disappearing beneath the tile, sinking flat into the still damp bottom of the tub, feeling her warmth against his wet shirt. Can you love something so spectral and fleeting? Can you want, what you can't even feel? If you could have it, would you still want it? Once an apparition is envisioned....... can it keep what's been promised?

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

#patrick melrose #benedict cumberbatch #metaphysical romance #addiction #patrick's apparition #melrose morose

[binniedeactivated]

𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞. || y.j🌪

╰─▸🖤 ❝ @[@𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐬𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠.. ]

✎𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

 ✎ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭!𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

 ✎ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 2.5k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒; 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

a/n; 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥!

“I can see you as a doctor, lawyer maybe”. she said while they both walked down the street, their jackets being a safeguard to the fridgid weather. It was never safe walking in the neighborhood they both lived in especially at this time of night but luckily she had taehyun, who knew all kinds of alleyways and shortcuts.

taehyun rolls his eyes while chewing on his sandwich, “amara what I tell you about that shit?”.

she laughs, the brightness of her smile outshining the stars that blanketed over the both of them. “I’m serious tae. you’re smart. you can be someone if you applied yourself”.

“yeah well I don’t want to hear that. you know who you sound like and it pisses me off”.

she sighs as her parted curly hair sifted over the side of her face in the breeze. taehyun was going to say that she sounded just like his parents. well, adopted parents. He hated when anyone called them his parents because, well, they weren’t. And tae hated them. his real parents were locked away in prison for a school of crimes taehyun could recite on his own. Theft, Assault, Arson, Burglary, the list could go on for decades.

she grins playfully pushing him to the side, “stop being so salty. You know I’m just looking out for you”.

“you know I’ll be fine amara. what you need to do is watch out for yourself. I see the way these guys stare at you”.

now she was the one rolling her eyes. “Yeah and you know Sammy will kill them all”. Taehyun sucks his teeth. “Fuck Sammy”.

Sammy was her boyfriend. smooth brown skin, pretty teeth and long hair that he always wore in a high bun—- real cute Hispanic guy. Taehyun never liked him though because of all the shit he caused. He was a real troublemaker and taehyun thought amara only looked past his ways because she thought that was all she could ever get.

taehyun knew she deserved better. Amara was his best friend after all. he knew who she was capable of being.

Approaching her building there was a group of men outside the apartment building she lived in, smoking weed, talking and laughing about some bullshit dice game. one of them being Sammy. Taehyun spotted him even from the distance they were at.

“Speaking of the damn devil”.

Amara slaps him on the shoulder and laughs. “I’ll catch you at school tyun. Make sure you go home!”.

Taehyun kisses her on the cheek and side hugs her with care. “I’ll think about it. Be safe amara. I love you”.

“I will bozo”. she couldn’t help but insult before closing the distance between her and her apartment building. With a blunt between his fingers Sammy spots her, smiling down at her five foot three frame. And he wasn’t the only one sneaking glances of course. Being quite thicker in the thighs and wider in the hips it was normal for guys to look at her.

“hey baby. Who was that?”.

“taehyun”.

He hums, looking at the ground before looking at her, his what was once pink lips blackening from all the weed he smoked. he furrowed a brow.

“you know I don’t like that little son of a bitch”.

“alright Sammy, please. I don’t have time for this shit tonight. He’s my best friend and you know that”.

He clutches her arm tightly, “I said I don’t like his ass. You shouldn’t be hanging out with him”. he orders and she could see in his eyes that he wasn’t sober. she gasps at the sudden pain and try to rip away from his grip but couldn’t due to his strength.

“Sammy get off of me!”.

He grins, “stop being so loud girl. What’s all the fuss about. Don’t you like it when I grab you like this?”.

he stares in her face trying to be sexy but looking more like a drunken pervert. she immediately became uncomfortable and tries to pry herself off of him but he only grips her tighter worsening the pain.

“Sammy stop it! You’re drunk”.

“I don’t want you hanging out with taehyun anymore you understand me?”. His breath reeked of alcohol.

“Get the fuck off me!”.

He finally throws her to the ground as if she were a garbage can herself. If it wasn’t for her protecting her fall with her hands she would’ve been planted face first in the cement. She was angry though, and not to mention she was already freezing.

Getting back up she dusted off her hands and angrily pushed Sammy backwards. “Don’t you put your fucking hands on me!”.

he raises his hand and slaps her good and hard. It was normal, her and him. It was normal for them to fight like that whenever Sammy got like this. And she would combat it the same way each time, punching him in his jaw before storming into the old, torn and piss smelling hallways of her apartment building. Luckily she lived on the third floor so the walk upstairs wasn’t all that bad. Except she always got a whiff of a bunch of weird smells when going up them.

she got to her landing with an aching face and a purring sound behind her. she turns quickly, startled at the sudden noise. Her nerves came to end though when she realized it was just beomgyu feeding some stray cat that always sat at the front of his apartment door. she was going to speak to him until she heard thumping noises above them both and a bunch of loud and erotic moaning.

The both of them glare at each other and laugh.

“beomgyu when are you going to tell your parents that they aren’t on their honeymoon every fucking night?”.

he smiles stroking the head of the grey cat softly. “Hey if eating each other’s pussies keep them off my ass then I’m all for it”.

beomgyu’s parents got divorced when he was really young and left his mother high and dry when he found out she was a full blown lesbian. Leaving beomgyu to be raised by two women since his father wanted nothing to do with him anymore, as if it were his fault. Not that it ever bothered beomgyu though. He never minded especially since his dad was a grade A asshole.

she laughs and starts her way to her own apartment across the hall with the sound of beomgyu trying to bribe the cat to come into his apartment as the background noise. As soon as she twists the brass knob she was pissed. The fact that it was even unlocked could’ve been hazardous. Anyone could’ve came in and robbed the place. She opens the door and shuts it behind herself.

She almost shit herself though when she was immediately greeted by her mother standing in front of her. She didn’t know what her mother had been doing prior to her arrival but she didn’t look good at all.

“Ma? You alright?”. Amara asks trying to catch a clue in the women’s eyes. Except she got nothing but a woozy stare. “Tariq wants us to have privacy tonight. You have to go somewhere else”. She blatantly says out of nowhere. Amara could feel herself clenching her fists,

Tariq was her controlling, manipulative ass stepfather.

“Go somewhere else?!”.

“Yes, just for this one night amara”.

“Ma!! You’re acting like I have other places to stay. Why are you kicking me out because he wants alone time?!”.

“Don’t talk to me like that girl. Like I said, for just this one night. You’re more tha welcomed to get some over night clo—“.

“Fuck that!”. Amara screams and makes her exit right then and there before she did anything she regretted. with her back now against the door she breathes in deep breaths trying calm herself as best as she possibly could.

All the while some boy with sleek black parted hair and specs was watching the episode unravel on his way down the stairs. She grew angry at the curiosity in his eyes.

“What the fuck are you looking at yeonjun?”.

“You need a place to stay mean ass?”. He asks calmly. Living in the same place for so long it was normal for everyone to know everyone. It’s just, yeonjun wasn’t someone she talked to normally.

Normally it would be Taehyun and Summer she talked to most. Summer was another best friend of hers whose dating tyun and just as annoying as him almost if not more. There’s was also heuning kai and occasionally beomgyu.

funny how yeonjun thought she was the most gorgeous girl in the world though.

she sighs trying to remove her own hostility. It wasn’t yeonjun’s fault that her mother was a bitch and to be honest, besides the fact that his dad is in the military and his mom acted a little off sometimes, she knew staying at his place wouldn’t be all that bad.

“yeah, I guess”.

she finally gives in having no choice. yeonjun gestures towards the stairs and brings her up to his apartment. she was happy to finally get a whiff of something good, home cooking made by his mother.

“Mom! Amara is staying tonight!”. He yells before directing her to take her coat off and place it on the coat rack at the door. she felt a little naked in her leggings and sweater she had to admit. but she also thought his apartment was way nicer than anyone else in the building who did absolutely nothing with theirs or just had no taste in good decor.

“I don’t want you getting ideas first off. This is a one night thing”. She declared as soon as she entered his room which had a quirky aesthetic vibe she liked. Records on the wall and lava lamps on his dressers and desk. Sneakers lined up underneath his bed and a pretty overflowing closet.

he held his hands up in surrender and laughs, “I’m not getting ideas trust me. But as you can see I have two beds so— you can sleep on the other one if you want. The sheets are clean”.

“Thank you yeonjun. You invite hoes over often? Mr.Two beds?”. She says plopping on the soft surface.

“no, just you”. He teases leaving amara launching a pillow at him jokingly. “hey! I am not a hoe”. This is just what yeonjun loved about her. She was easy going. Never took jokes that serious and loved to laugh.

“hey I don’t know what you do with your free time”. He jokes again.

“schoolwork thank you very much”.

“Ah, that’s something a hoe would say”.

Amara laughs again, not expecting yeonjun to be as funny as he was. He was also kind of cuter upclose but that didn’t matter. She had Sammy.

“If I’m such a hoe isn’t this the part where we’re supposed to fuck?”.

hearing that sentence was like a punch in the gut to yeonjun, it was something he definitely wasn’t expecting her to say. He jokes back, “what are we waiting for then?”.

oddly enough the room became silent once that statement left his lips. It was an innocent gaze at first but it became heated quickly. she figured after the night she had, what else could go wrong? She needs some type of fix.

And this is what led her slowly crawling over the bed and on the floor in front of yeonjun who was sitting on the bed across from her. she lays her head on his inner thigh gazing up at him with her pretty dark brown eyes. “you’re right...what are we waiting for?”. She repeats, rubbing the bulge poking out of his sweatpants.

He didn’t stop her at all, instead he grabs her hair and bite his lips, staring down at her under his circular frames. “Tsk. These the games we’re playing?”.

she slowly drags down his briefs, “only if you don’t tell anyone”. She wasted no time rolling her lips down his veiny thick length. Yeonjun’s hips twitch at the sudden feeling. The heat of her mouth worked wonders. She bobs her head with care, making sure she was licking and sucking anything she could get to. And already yeonjun was groaning underneath his breath.

she only came up for air and let her slimy tongue wrap around the tip of his dick cleaning it of his precum and sliding her tongue in between the slit naughtily. Yeonjun grunts lowly again clutching the strands of her hair harder,

“god I’m going to have to fuck the shit out of you after this”.

#soobin #yeonjun drabble #beomgyu #yeonjun #heuning kai #taehyun #txt #txt imagines #choi yeonjun #yeonjun smut

[renee-writer]

An Invisible Thread Chapter 27 Full Circle

“Come on baby. You can do it! Push!”  A grunt. A tighter grip on his hands. Finding reserves she didn’t know she had. One more time. One more baby.

 

She never imagined herself here. After Malachi and another five years had passed without one late cycle, she and Jamie are resigned to having one child. One beautiful, perfect son. They say men plan and God laughs. He must have been rolling around heaven the day she was sick at work.

 

Running to the loo after a hasty excuse to her patient. What is this? She had thought at the time. Passing it off as just a bout of stomach upset, she couldn’t continue when she got woozy a week later. The stomach upset had morphed into a near constant nausea. She had to find out what was wrong.

 

“You are pregnant.” Her own physician says with a huge smile.

 

“But, I am infertile.” She is well and truly shocked. Malachi was at school full time. She has just fully returned to her practice. Besides, they couldn’t have babies! Right?

 

“Seems you are not. Congratulations.”

 

“We are having a baby!”  the shock is replaced with a joy so deep that it makes her dizzy. Her husband and son share it when she announces her news over tea that evening.

 

“Father Christmas heard me!” Malachi excitedly shouts out. “I asked him for a baby brother.”

 

“Someone did.” Jamie adds with tears following down his eyes.

 

“Can I tell everyone? Please mam!” Her little boys pleas are easily accepted and the shock and joy on the faces of their love ones when he tells them, “Mam’s  having a baby!” they will remember forever.

 

Five months later, when they find out it is babies, twins, they have the pleasure of shocking them again.

 

She goes into labor two days before her scheduled induction. Malachi is dropped of with Willy and Mary. He has fun playing with his cousins as his mam walks up and down the hospital halls, in increasing agony. Finally, it is time to push the first one out.

 

“A lass. A strong healthy lass.” Announced as she is held up for her parents to see.

 

Rachel Grace Fraser is born with her daddy’s hair and eyes. She is screaming at the top of her lungs. Her parents answer with reassuring words through their joyful tears. Now for the lad.

 

All stops for a half hour after the afterbirth is delivered. Rachel is cleaned up and handed to her mam. A bit of nursing gets the process started again.

 

“Just one more.” She puts all she has left in it.  “I see his hair. Like yours mam.” A loud grunt, press down, a bit more.. “Welcome lad.”

 

Micah James is born with his mam’s brown hair. The curls stick to his head as his eyes slowly open. A strange mix of blue and honey, as beautiful as he is.

 

Hours later, Jamie chuckles as he realizes something. Claire, sleepily nursing the babies, asked him about it.

 

“Rachel came an hour before Micah. At the same hospital where you came an hour before me. Full circle.”

 

“Wow! That is amazing.” He lays them in their bassinet after they fall off their mam’s breast. He covers them, her, and Malachi. His family. What a blessed man he is!

 

“Thank you God. For my Curly Claire and our children.” He prays before laying down beside his oldest and joining them in sleep.

 

The end.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #an invisible thread #full circle #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #modern au #outlander fandom #the end

[draconicks]

Come To Your Sister's Embrace (The Lost Girls and David)

He was now fully healed. It took a few months, but now here he was. He had to break a few of his morals and values, and whilst doing so, he always closed his eyes and tried desperately to not listen to the screams of the family that he killed recently. He didn't particularly enjoy himself like he usually would.

However, he was now walking amongst the empty pathway that lead to what seemed like an empty suburban house. It was a light tan with mold growing on the front porch that was being led towards a vine that succumbed the small home. He shuddered and crossed his arms, not from the cold, but from the thought that Max had actually 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 David and the others to live there, and they would have if Michael hadn't gotten them killed. But, he didn't want to think of that.

No, he hated thinking about any of them. He doesn't think he can handle it if he does.

As he took his first step up the stairs, a large gust of wind bursted behind him and he staggered forwards, the smell of vampire rot overwhelming his senstive nose and causing him to lurch forward and grab onto the wooden pillars. His eyes flickered golden and he spun on his heel, his gums aching and his fangs peeking slightly on instinct from smelling another one of his kind.

But he was met with... a girl? He blinked a couple times and his vision then focused.

Yeah, it was a girl. And she was grinning a bit too big for his liking. He bared his teeth at her in warning but she never faltered. Instead she said something that scared the plum shit out of him, "We've been waiting for you to come to us!" she chirped, opening her arms and throwing herself onto David, who yelped and fall backwards from the force. She was rail-thin, her hair obnoxiously curly and tickling his face. "Oh, we haven't seen you since you were a newborn-" she paused, inhaling David's neck deeply. He began to wriggle uncomfortably, "And you smell 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 good." she added, hopping off of him.

David's eyes were now full blown golden and his features had now changed into something lionesque. "Who- what-" he stammered, and before he could get a sentence out, two other girls, one who looked eerily similar to the crazy chick who just lunged at him, and another one with a concerned expression and long, black hair with olive-toned skin. "Bell? Is that...him?" the black-haired girl cautiously asked. Her eyes skimmed him up and down but the other girl, the Twin, just skipped up to the pair and chuckled at the sight of him. "Look it, I think he's scared." she giggled, nudging who David thinks is Bell.

David snarled and he felt his limbs rumble. "I'm 𝘯𝘰𝘵 scared. Who the hell are you guys?" he asked, his fists clenching and his eyes now as hard as stone. "And you shouldn't be here. This is 𝘮𝘺 property." he scowled, his platinum locks falling into his eyes. A beat of silence passed around the three before the black-haired chick then sputtered out a guffaw, followed by two matching laughs that escaped the faeries before him.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 property?" the black-haired girl asked. "Gimme a break." she rolled her eyes and took some steps forward. "Our sister, Kamille, is inside the house, okay? She will want to meet you." she stated, her laugh lines now receding, growing serious. "Max turned you, right?" she asked him, slowly kneeling before him. David's chest lurched and his stomach dropped at the mention of him, "W-what?" a stutter pushed past his lips. The girl standing next to Bell let out a seraphic laugh, "He's so damn cute. Look at him." Bell turned and looked at her before nodding her head in agreement.

The black-haired girl sighed and she shook her head. "Come on, little brother. We're gonna help you." she said lowly. David blinked. "Please," she leaned closer to him and extended a gloved, petite hand, "Let us help you. You're family." she cooed. Her whisper sent chills of comfort down his spine and he couldn't help but gravitate toward her maternal nature, the nature he hadn't recieved in forever. Bell, and the girl next to her then became somewhat serious as well, "Yes, David. Come on, come with us inside, darling." Bell whispered, her accent shining through as clear as day. David couldn't tell if she was southern or not, but an invisible force instead reached out and possessed his hesitant hand, gingerly holding onto his new sister.

Bell grinned widely, as did the two other girls. As soon as David stood up, he then felt light-headed, dizzy even. Then it dawned on him.

They were using their goddamn glamour on him.

But his mind was a bit far gone now, and he couldn't even check in on his surroundings until he felt warmth surround his lithe frame. The sounds of his spurs and a couple pairs of heels clicked inside the house, and before he knew it, another girl, one who had dark brown skin and coily hair was standing infront of him. A glittery, golden jacket was wrapped perfectly around her statuesque figure and hugged her curves, her coils dainty and rested snug on top of her head.

She was beautiful.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she chewed on her bottom lip, "Who is this?" she whispered to the black-haired girl. The black-haired chick patted him on the shoulder and he felt himself get even more woozy, and he could feel himself nodding off. He groaned.

"This is our little brother, David." she answered her, smiling. "David, this is Kamille, I'm Crystal, and the two other girls next to you are Bell and Thea." Crystal's silky voice brung him back down for a sefond before he fekt his mind thrn slip away. The lady infront of him, Kamille, stared at Crystal before flickering her eyes back to him, not expressing any emotion. "This...is him? I thought he would be older." she stated, her high heels clinking as she took steps toward him, grabbing his face and staring deeply into his baby blue eyes.

She slanted her black orbs in disgust and pressed her lips into a thin line, "God...he's so 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨. I thought Max didn't turn kids." Kamille breathed out.

She sighed and pulled back away from him, her hands falling to her sides. A few seconds of silence passed and he then heard the faerie girl, Bell, let out a screech, "So, can we keep him?" she shrilled. Kamille then snapped out of her tiny trance and then stared at the girl next to him. "I don't even know anything about him." she grumbled. "Oh, come on, please! He will be nice! He even smells like us, like 𝘔𝘢𝘹!" the faerie pleaded, bouncing on her heels. Kamille thought for a second before she exhaled and pathetically nodded.

"Yes. He may stay with us, if he is our brother." she whispered.

Loud cheers boomed into the house, and he felt three pairs of arms wrap around him and... a kiss on his cheek? He didn't know who did it but it made him feel warm inside, like how a child feels after getting attention from a parent. "Welcome to the Lost Girls, little brother." someone whispered, before it all went black.

#the lost girls #lost girls #david lost boys #the lost boys #lost boys 1987 #80s

[sparklemichele]

Pretty Boy Part 2

Henry Cavill X Reader

Henry shut the door behind him and you both stood and gazed at one another.

“Undress.” He demanded after a few moments of silence. His whole demeanor changed. It caused you to pause. “Take off your clothes.” His eyes slowly took you in and you started to regret all the shit you gave him earlier. You had a feeling he was going to make you pay. You and your fuckin big ass mouth. You began to undress. You didn’t take your eyes off him as you refuse to let him realize you were a little intimidated. As you stood naked in front of Henry, your clothes a pile beside you, you found your arms crossing over your chest and pubic area.

“You being shy now? Is this the same woman that was running her mouth earlier?” Henry walked up to you and used his thumb to gently caress your bottom lip. “Beautiful, full lips.” He whispered. “Move your arms. I want to see you.” You reluctantly let your arms rest at your sides. Henry smiled as he used his thumb to part your mouth a little and replaced his thumb with his lips. Your tongues met instantly and furiously. You almost lost your footing as Henry deepened the kiss and he snaked his arm around your waist holding you up as he feasted on your lips. As you both explore each other’s mouth Henry’s other hand explored your curves. His fingers caressed your neck, your clavicle, your shoulders, down to one of your breasts. He smiled against your lips as he felt how hard your nipple was. “Henry!” You gasped as he pinched it.  

“Hmmm.” He murmured as his lips made their way to your neck. He was lightly nipping your neck when he stopped and suddenly inhaled deeply. “Your scent is getting stronger.” Henry lifted his head an looked down at your thighs. You felt your juices seeping down your legs. Henry looked back up at you. “Surely you aren’t the same woman who could not stand the sight of me a few hours ago. Now here you are so wet you are leaking down your thighs.”

You rolled your eyes at Henry.

“I never said I could not stand the sight of you Henry…I mean any woman with eyes-” You were cut off mid-sentence as Henry closed the gap between you and him and stuck two of his fingers in your wet pussy.

“Shut up for once.” He growled at you as he began to finger fuck you with vigor. Your knees buckled again as pleasure took over your body at his ministrations. You found your body lying limp against his massive frame as his fingers continue moving inside you. Your eyes were closed, head laid against his chest, and moans escaped your lips against his skin.  Henry removed his fingers for a moment and as if you weighed nothing, he lifted you and laid you in the middle of your bed. You spread your legs open eager for his fingers to return. When you did not feel him, you sat up on your elbows searching for him. He was just standing at the end of the bed gazing at you.

“Henry?”

He put his wet finger up to his lips motioning for you to be silent before slipping it in his mouth sucking the juice off it. The look on his face was pure ecstasy as he tasted you. He sucked his other finger dry as he looked at you causing goose bumps to rise on your skin. The look in his eyes were feral. You watch him kick off his shoes, tore off his socks, his sweater, his pants and then boxers. He finally stood before you in all his glory and as you took him all in you felt your heart pound in your chest as you gazed at his massive chest, his arms, his Adonis belt, his rigid cock, his tone thighs and legs. Henry pulled at both your legs and brought your ass to the edge of the bed. He knelt down on his knees and dove into your pussy.

“Fuck!” you moaned as you felt his tongue on your lips. Your hands instinctively grabbed his curly brown hair pushing him in deeper. His fat tongue lapped up and down your slit with enthusiasm. You started to tremor as his attention turned to your clit and his fingers found their way inside you again. You felt the heat of your orgasm rising as Henry’s tongue worked you and his finger found your G-spot. You cried out as your orgasm hit you hard. Your legs locked squeezing Henry’s head. It didn’t faze him as he just grabbed your legs and used his strength to unlock them and continue to eat you out as you rode out your orgasm. You were tremoring as Henry slowly kissed and licked his way up your body. He hovered over you as you tried to recover your breath.

“Do you realize how beautiful you are? How beautiful your complexion is?” He leaned over an softly kissed your lips. “Do you?”

“Yes.” You answered finally catching your breath. He smiled at you as he leaned over and softly kissed your lips again. The kissed turned passionately as he settled between your thighs. You felt his hand cup your pussy.

“You ready for me?”

“Yes!” You nearly screeched.

Henry lifted up your hips, you eagerly opened your legs for him. You felt his tip brush up against your opening. He smiled down at you as he rubbed up and down your lips. “You sure?” he teased.

“Henry, stop playing and fuck me.” You wrapped your arms around his ample ass to pull him in. In one swift motion Henry drove into you knocking the wind out of you. He was large and it took a moment for your body to adjust. Henry held you tight as your walls expand around him. He slowly started to move in you as he felt your hips jerk up to him begging him to move. Henry pulled out to just the tip and slammed back into you making sure you were nice and ready for him and you were as your body readily accepted all of him. So, Henry fucked you like he wanted to fuck you since he first laid eyes on you. He fucked you extra harder than he fucked any woman since you open your pretty mouth at him and disrespected him. Soon he felt your walls closing in on his cock.

“You going to cum for me?”

“Yes…yeah….fuck Henry…” You were breathless as you clawed at his large back. Your body constricted so hard that your pussy pushed Henry out.

“Oh no baby. You are not getting off that easy.” He told you as he drove back in you as your body convulsed. He fucked you harder as your orgasm ravished you. Your orgasm washed over you and you went limp. Henry slowed down and softly kissed your sweaty forehead.

“I’m not done with you.”

“Henry…Henry..” You begged. “I can’t anymore.” You whined. Henry chuckled as he pulled out.

“Really? All that talk about pretty boys. I think you can handle more. Get on your knees and grab the headboard.” He instructed as he moved to give you room to turn around. You looked at his handsome face. He was flushed and covered in sweat. How could he not be tired?  You were woozy as you position yourself on all fours. You tried to aim for the headboard and missed. Henry grabbed your hand and guided it to the headboard. You grasped it tight and grabbed the pillow with your other hand to position yourself. You were dead tired, but you instinctively arched your ass to him.  

Henry grabbed your hips. “Fuck, you are everything.” He moaned as he slid into you. You were sore but your pussy latch onto him as if he was life itself. Henry let out a loud growl from deep in his chest as he took you from behind. You felt Henry grab a handful of your twists and pull your head back to look at him as he fucked you. The look in his eyes gave you renew energy and you found yourself meeting his thrusts. Henry leaned over and landed a sloppy kissed on your lips as he continued to hit it from behind. He let go of your hair and you grabbed the headboard with your other hand and met his thrust with more force.

“Fuck Y/N! I’m about to cum!”

You looked back at him and licked your lips.

“Cum for me daddy.”

The way you said “daddy” sent Henry over the edge and he found his mouth on your shoulder biting you as his body shook with an earth-shattering orgasm. You felt the pain and pleasure from his bite as his cum shot deep inside you.  Henry’s heavy weight collapsed on top of you.

“Henry…get up.”

He chuckled as he lifted so you could turn around to face him. He rolled over, pulled you in his arms and you rested your head on his hairy chest. You both laid in silence as you both caught your breaths.

“So pretty boys still can’t fuck?” He asked breaking the silence. You busted out laughing.

“Ouch!” You regretted moving as your body was screaming at you.

“What’s wrong?” Henry looked at you full of concern.

“I’m just a little sore.”

“So, I guess that answers my question.”

“Pretty boys can’t fuck. However handsome men-” Henry’s lips crashed into yours before you could finish your sentence. “You talk too much.” He chuckled before opening your mouth again with his tongue.

  @laketaj24 @imgoldielikehawn @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @readsalot73 @titty-teetee @fangirlextraordinaire @sdcyumyum @regular-biitch @im-that-one-gurl @chocolatemetalprincess @warmchick @poe-slittleraven13 @eyesof-mine @queenlouisa2001 @earthsmightiestasses @badassbaker @demoncrypt1066 @petrashappyplace @captstefanbrandt @mimigemrose @lokilvrr @cheychey10142 @racing-against-the-sunset @zuzuspanda @rosey1981 @melaninmarvel​ @jad3djay​ @ladydragonpurplefire​ @ilovefanfic86​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @kynthias​ @richonne4life​ @welovethesponge​ @xlookxalivexsunshinex​ @singeramg​

#henry cavill #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x black!reader #WOC representation

[shigarakis-fifth-hand]

Shigaraki x Todoroki!Reader; The Masl

Shigaraki x Todoroki! Reader; The Mask

Enjoy the series! one two three four five six seven

“I was hoping you would come.” Overhaul held her in his arms tightly by her waist, receiving growls from the other villains. “Let her go bitch.” Shigaraki growled as Chisaki just smiled, still holding the masked-girl tightly to himself. “Why? We’re all going to the same room... Let’s go.” Dabi nudged them towards the room at the end of the hallway, walking with Shiro held on his waist to where he was basically carrying her. 

“Hmm, so tell me cutie. Why can’t you take your mask off? It’s only just us villains here.” He smirked as she just shook her head, trying to laugh it off. “Oh, no. The mask doesn’t come off. It’s kind of my thing.” Shiro smiled back, but that just had him give her a glare as she entered the large group with the rest of the room. “Don’t try to be funny. Take. Off. The. Mask.” He insisted, but before Shiro could say something back, Dabi pulled her out of his tight grip and pulled her to his side.

“Oh, I see what’s going on here. You don’t have to listen to them dollface, you’re perfectly safe with me.” Chisaki lied as you sat down in the only chair left, the one between Shigaraki and bird face. Oh fun... You sat down, and immediately watched his hand grip the arm on your arm protectively, sending chills up your back. This man scared you, but what could you say? You had acted so tough to Shigaraki, and now you were going to confess to being utterly terrified by Overhaul and his perverted and creepy actions? This was probably how most villains acted, so she would just have to get over it for now. Right? 

“We’re all here, so I think we can start. Here’s the blueprint of UA, and where all of the teachers will be during the attack. If we plan it right, we can attack All Might and have Eraserhead and the rest of 1-A on the other side of the school...” As Dabi droned on and on, you felt Overhaul’s eyes staring at you the entire time as he leaned closer and closer to you as the minutes passed. When Dabi ended, he was almost on top of you. 

“Anyways, any questions Chisaki? Besides you obsessing over our new recruit, anything else we need to do here, because we’d all like to leave before midnight.” Shigaraki asked, sitting down in his chair, but leaning towards you just a bit to where you only noticed. Why? Was he worried? Why did he care? Of course not.

“Don’t see it as obsessing. She’s beautiful, powerful, and I happen to be quiet interested in her.” Chisaki began stoking his hands through her hair slowly before being tugged away by Shigaraki, who kept one pinkie up at all times. “Tomura, I’m warning you. You shouldn’t touch her with those destructive hands of yours, someone’ll get hurt.” Overhaul grinned, meeting eye contact with the curly-haired man. “You keep touching her and you’re the one who’ll get hurt.” Shigaraki grabbed Chisaki’s shirt and pulled him close to where the two were head-to-head. “Is that a challenge?” Chisaki asked, grinning before Dabi pushed the two grown men away from each other. 

“Stop thinking with your dicks and get over yourselves. She doesn’t want a crusty or a bird legs. Come on Shigaraki, we need to get back before the cops fill the streets.” Dabi protectively grabbed Shiro’s arm, pulling her out of her seat and away from the two grown-ass men fighting in the corner. As the League began walking out of the room, Overhaul pushed Shigaraki away and brought a walkie talkie to his lips.

“Mimic, now. She’s in the hallway.” Shigaraki’s eyes widened, realizing what was about to happen. “Dabi!” He screamed to the raven-haired man down the hallway before turning to see a hand reaching out and grabbing Shiro by the arm, pulling her through the wall into an empty room and closing the opening behind her, sealing her in.

“No! No!” Dabi screamed, running to the wall and beginning to blast fire to it, fire beginning to spread throughout the walls and hallway. “Chisaki you’re going to regret that!” Toga screamed as her and Twice began to run towards the man, only to be stopped by another man who appeared from behind the door in a plague gas mask, making their movements extra slow in mid air. “Enough of you two.” He murmured, punching them into the wall painfully. 

“Watch it!” Dabi screamed, coming up from behind the guy and punching him in the back of the head, sending the guy to the floor unconscious. 

As the room filled with blue flames, smoke, and anger, the three men began fighting to the death. “You bitch! Get back here!” Shiro could hear from the other side of the wall, as she sat there, trying desperately to find a way back. “No! No!” She yelled desperately, finding it hard to breathe with the lack of oxygen. “Please!” She screamed, before feeling a bit woozy. She recognized the use of gas used to put people to sleep, which she wasn’t going to allow. These walls couldn’t be possibly indestructible, could they? 

Using her quirk to it’s full potential, she managed to use the ice to blast through one of the walls. As she stepped near the opening she had managed to create, sudden intoxicating smoke and flames appeared around her. The fire couldn’t hurt her due to her quirk, but the sudden heat and smoke filling her lungs made it hard to function. 

As much as she knew she shouldn’t she needed to take off the mask. She held it in her hands and began running, following the sound of screaming down the mysterious hallways. Just a few hallways down, Dabi and the other two were battling it out. Shigaraki had already disintegrated the table, his own shirt accidently, and was now trying to punch the fuck out of Overhaul with Dabi’s help. “Go to hell!” Dabi grabbed Chisaki by the throat and pinned him to the floor, holding him by the shirt. 

“Tell me where she is! I swear, if you did something to her I’ll kill you!” As Dabi was about to pound his fist into Chisaki, the smoke began to pour through Dabi’s eyes, allowing Chisaki to slip from under him. “Oh yea? What can you do if you’re dead?!” He screamed, lifting a steel pipe from the stairs and whacking Dabi in the back of the head, sending him to the ground.

“And you!” Overhaul grabbed Shigaraki by the throat and began to lift him off his feet before throwing him to the ground, Shigaraki’s skull hitting the hard floor beneath him. Unknowing to both of them, Shiro was watching from behind the corner far down the hallway, terrified. Overhaul grabbed the knife from his pocket and began to pierce it into Shigaraki’s leg, receiving an agonizing scream from the blue-haired man.

 “Look at you and look at me! How do you think you can do anything right? Your quirk was meant to destroy, while mine can destroy and bring it back even better!” Overhaul stabbed Shigaraki multiple times before laughing loudly. 

“You, one slip-up and you could destroy anyone in your life. Oh wait, you already have Tenko!” Overhaul laughed as Shigaraki’s eyes widened. How did he know his real name, or his past?  Shiro slipped her mask back on, before preparing to attack. “I’m going to make your death as slow and painful as-” Shiro jumped up before sending a spike of ice down the hall towards Chisaki, piercing him through the chest. Woozily, Shigaraki watched as the white-haired girl ran to him worryingly. 

“God, you look awful.” Shigaraki commented, looking at her beautiful face covered in dust, her eyes bloodshot from the crying and smoke irritation, and of course the crying. “Well you don’t look very handsome right now either Mr. Hot Stuff.” Shigaraki grinned at her snarky self, so happy that she was okay. He would kill himself if something had happened to her.

“D-did he hurt you?” Shigaraki asked as she knelt next to him, smiling. “Don’t worry about me. You’re going to be fine, let me just-” Shiro stopped talking as her mask fell from her face, the strap on the back having melted from the extreme heat around her. As Shiro’s face was revealed to Shigaraki, he couldn't help but gasp as he began to back up from her. 

“N-no! No, there’s no way you’re... you’re her!” He screamed loudly and fearfully, hating that he was in such a vulnerable position in front of... Endeavor’s child. “Did you plan this with him? Are you going to try to kill me?” He asked as tears built up in his eyes, unable to believe his bad luck. The one girl he had fallen for had been a pro hero’s child. He had invited her into his home too, and had trusted her. Heck, he had protected her from such a creep as Chisaki. 

“Tomura.” She whimpered, tears beginning to stream down her face as she watched him try to get away from her. “Please. You’re... hurt.” Shiro began to walk towards him, which ended up in fear building up in his eyes even more. “Not another step woman! You come near me, you die!” Shigaraki screamed, raising all five of his fingers towards her, causing her to back up. 

“Please Tomura, it’s me.” She cried, tears streaming down her face. “You’ve got to believe me, it’s always been me.” Tomura began to settle down, replaying all the memories of her in his head. She had a high kill count, was brought to the League all bloody and bruised up, and had just saved him just now from Chisaki. There was no way that it all was the same girl... unless. Shigaraki pushed himself onto his feet weakly, and began to walk towards her. 

She froze, afraid that he would try to hurt her. But again, this was Shigaraki. He wouldn't kill her right there at that moment, right? Shigaraki stopped right before her, one of his hands gripping the mask that had slipped onto the floor. He raised it to her face to show only her hair, and bright blue eyes. God... it really was her.

“It’s really you.” He whispered to himself, unable to comprehend what was happening. “Y-yea.” She began to answer, before Shigaraki fell into her body, unconscious from the blood loss. “Oh god... oh god, oh god, oh god.” She whispered to herself before lowering him to the ground. Ripping parts of her shirt and jacket off, she used the tears as bandages to put over Tomura’s wounds before running to Toga and Twice, who had fallen asleep under the slow actioned quirk. She froze the back of her mask together, and placed it back on her face as she shook the two awake. “I need you guys to help me.” 

She recruited Toga and Twice to carry Dabi back to the lounge, while carrying Shigaraki herself. She watched her two friends carry away her brother before turning to an unconscious Chisaki on the ground. Lighting a single flame on her index finger, she touched his hand and stepped away. “Shiggy, let’s go.” She smiled, picking him up bridal style and beginning to walk away. 

“I’ll burn the same hands you touched me with, so you can never touch me again.” She murmured to Chisaki’s body, before following her friends outside. So... Tomura knew her identity. Should she tell Dabi, or would he just freak out? Tomura had smiled at the end, so was he alright? 

Obviously he felt freaked out, lied to, and maybe a little betrayed, but she hadn’t done anything wrong. Right? Of course not, just keep her alive. Plus, the way Shigaraki had looked at her had been with a smile, and maybe a bit of happiness. Did he think she was pretty? Heck, the world thought she was pretty, but did he? After all, he was the only one that mattered to her. 

“So Senpai, what happened when we were knocked out?” Toga asked when they finally walked inside, drying themselves off from the light drizzle outside. “Oh nothing much, I just was able to kill Chisaki and save the two guys from him. All in a days work, am I right?” Shiro grinned as Twice high fived her. 

“You did good kiddo, not bad for our newest member.” Twice grinned, setting the two guys on the table. “Oh my god, what did you guys do now?” Kurogiri stepped into the main room from the hallway to see the four kids, blood splattered, unconscious, burnt, and beyond exhausted. 

He looked them up and down, seeing how part of Shiro’s clothes had been burnt or torn up, how Shigaraki was bloody and unconscious, how Toga and Twice was limping and had footprints on their shirts, and how Dabi looked beat up with bruises up and down his arms. “My, you guys are pieces of work sometimes.”

Comment below if you’d like to be added to the taglist, or if you just liked the story!

Taglist: @debbiehehe @pnkcts @league-of-bnha @lilcura1209 @x-a-delama-x @bish-ima-clown @axerrri @fearsome-perfect-beauty-eren​

#shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki x reader #mha shigaraki #shigarakiweek #shigaraki tomura #Shigaraki x oc #shigaraki x y/n #tomura lemon #tomura x reader #tomura x oc #Tomura x todoroki #mha x poc!reader #mha x you #mha x y/n #mha x reader #mha x oc #mha headcanons #mha fandom #mha fluff #mha angst #shigaraki aesthetic #Shigaraki angst #todoroki dabi #dabi todoroki #dabi is touya #dabi is a todoroki #dabi touya #dabi theory #bnha chisaki #kai chisaki imagine

[abused-virgil-oneshots]

Patton’s perfect family- chapter 3- Roman

Masterpost

Chapter TW: drugging, kidnapping, sympathetic Roman, unsympathetic Patton

This chapter was written by @wittlevirgilsanders

Roman hummed as he stirred his coffee for the trillionth time. Boredom was beginning to set in and he was so ready to go home, but at the same time he felt so lackluster. He didn't want to get up, in full honesty.

"Bad day at work?"

Roman peered up from between his eyelashes. In front of him stood a short man, not that he didn't have any muscle on him, with curly blonde hair, green eyes, freckles, and little round glasses on his nose.

"Something like that," Roman forces a dull laugh.

"I'm sorry, mind if I sit down? No empty seats."

Roman shakes his head, picking up his pen and setting it back down after a moment of thought the man sits down across from him.

"I'm Patton," The man introduces himself.

"Roman," he looks up, noticing the lack of other customers in the café, "Hey..."

"Sorry," Patton giggled. "You just looked so lonely! So where do you work? I just started teaching at the high school!"

"Apparently, I'm a writer, though most of the time it doesn't feel like it," Roman jokes with a playful roll of his eyes.

"That's fun!" Patton compliments, "Ya'know, you get to work from home and everything!"

He draws in a sudden gasp, eyes going wide and sparkling, "it would be pajama day every day!"

"Huh... I guess it would." Roman smiles slightly and pulls out his wallet. "I should go pay."

"Alright! Well, bye then!" Patton giggles. "Maybe I'll see you again someday."

"Maybe." Roman shrugged.

It was all too fast until Patton bumped into Roman again.

"Ohh my goodness, Roman!" Patton gasps when he spots Roman staring at him from he'd been watching  him in the grocery store. "Small town!"

"Must be," Roman shrugged, ignoring the uneasy feeling in his stomach.

"So, what have you been up to? Patton asks, "Done anymore writing?"

"A bit." Roman nose thinking back on the past few days. He hadn't written at all.

"Well, I had no idea the kids in this town were so smart." Patton gushes, beginning to tell a long story to Roman that he shamefully admitted he blocked out.

"-should meet again sometime!"

"Hmm?" Patton's words snapped Roman out of his train of thought.

"I'm pretty sure that's what friends do, right?" Patton asks, "Go to parks and football games and stuff together?"

"Yeah," Roman paused, then laughed. "But the only football in this town is on the one tv that the rich guy on the hills owns."

Patton's eyes widen as he laughs.

They slowly met up with each other more and more. Roman wasn't ashamed to admit he'd sometimes make his characters more silly than they were, with lots of dad jokes. Patton was rubbing off on him.

Roman's phone buzzed and he picked it up, opening yet another text from Patton.

Patty-cake: Wanna meet at the café? ; P (sent)

Roman looked down at his computer. He'd only just finished up a chapter... he really should be writing more...

Romano: Sure, why not.

Roman heads outside and begins the short walk to the café, not bothering to bring his phone seeing as it needed to charge.

Once he got there Patton was already inside, waiting for him with their usual orders.

"Here ya go!" Patton chirps, passing Roman his drink once he sat down, "Nice and hot!"

"Thanks Patton." Roman smiles, noticing Patton's excessive amounts of jumpiness. "What's up with you?"

"I'm getting married!" Patton blurts out as Roman takes a sip, almost making him spit out his coffee.

"What?!"

"I know!" Patton squeals, "He said he'd go with me! Roman it's going to be so romantic, you have to come! Will you come? We're going to stay up at my cabin! It's up on this gorgeous mountain, plenty of privacy-"

"Plenty of privacy, eh?" Roman waggles his eyebrows and takes another sip, making Patton shriek.

"Roman!" Patton blushes in embarrassment. "Really, this is going to be so fun! You'll get to meet my baby boys, Damien, and soon to be Virgil."

"Are you adopting or something like that?" Roman asks.

"Something like that." Patton smiled, and Roman began to feel slightly woozy.

"Is everything okay?" Patton asks, noticing the distressed look on Roman's face.

"Oh, yeah, of course, Patton." Roman laughs, trying to brush off the feeling, but it soon grew, making his eyes harder and harder to keep open.

"No, c'mon, something's wrong." Patton presses. "Let's get you outside. Maybe some fresh air will help?"

Roman had no choice but to agree, Patton was being kind after all. "Sure, Patton."

They didn't even make it to Patton's car before he collapsed.

///776 words

Taglist:

@kai-the-person

@the-insanelycoolmylesoliver

@no-no-no-no-6

@supbitchss

@ginnyfox617

@jasondeanstwin

@imliterallyvirgilandlogan

#drugging #kidnapping #sympathetic remus #sympathetic logan #sympathetic roman sanders #sympathetic deceit #unsympathetic patton sanders #sympathetic virgil

[omg-just-peachy]

Would you ever write an irondad fic? I would love one where peter is sick and tony takes care of him (like not romantic just parentally)

Okay this has been sitting here for kind of a while now so I hope you are still around to see this, irondad anon!! Parent Tony Stark is my favorite thing, and this has been writing itself in my head pretty much since you sent it. Have this tiny thing, which is part of a longer thing you inspired, where Peter has to dissect a frog in class and gets a little woozy. 

Tony is at a Stark Industries meeting, biting his tongue to keep from arguing with a board member when his phone rings. He takes the welcome excuse to leave the room and picks it up, despite it being an unknown number.

“This is Linda Williams, the nurse over at MSST? We have Peter Parker here, he passed out in class earlier today and we were-”

“He what? ” Tony’s stomach plummets. “Is he okay? I’m getting in the car now,” he says, while Linda Williams explains that he’s totally fine, just had a bit of an incident in biology earlier, and it might be best if he went home and took it easy the rest of the day.

Tony is so focused on getting over to Midtown that he doesn’t stop to wonder why the school was calling him instead of May. Or why his first instinct was to flee a board meeting, no doubt incur the wrath of Pepper, and go pick him up. By the time he gets to the school, filling out a name tag and following the directions the nice woman at the front desk gives him, Tony is nearly out of breath.

“Mr. Stark, I’m really sorry about this,” Peter says from a chair outside the nurse’s office. He looks pale as a ghost, his curly hair damp and plastered down against his forehead. Tony holds out a hand to help him up, grimacing a little at how clammy Peter’s hand was.

“We need a parent or guardian to sign here, then you’re free to go,” Nurse Williams tells him, holding out a clipboard and smiling. Tony signs it absently, one hand on Peter’s shoulder, steadying him, before leading him out to the car.

“Want to tell me what happened?” Tony asks. “Air or windows?”

“Windows, please. And yeah, they needed a parent or guardian, but Aunt May doesn’t have that much time off left, and I told them I was giving them my uncle’s phone number. I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call���” He sounds mortified, his voice as unsure as Tony had ever heard it.

“Not that, you know I don’t care. Plus, you stopped me from calling this asshole an asshole in front of a room full of other assholes, so I actually owe you one. I mean what happened earlier — the nurse said you passed out?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, we had to do a dissection in bio today. One look at the guts and I lost it.” He shudders at the memory and Tony is momentarily worried he should pull over in case the kid throws up. “Turns out your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man can’t even handle the sight of one cut open frog,” he jokes, but Tony can read the embarrassment clear as day on his face. He lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder while Peter keeps talking.

“…Ned apparently posted the whole thing on Snapchat and now I’m pretty sure I’m going to be a meme, so. Anyway, it’s stupid. I’m sorry.” Peter mumbles, laying his head back against the seat and taking deep, slow breaths.

“Hey. You don’t have to be sorry. These things happen. I know a little about losing your shit, you know that, right? We can hang out at the tower until May gets home, yeah? Think you can handle some food, or should we skip it? You still look a little vomity, Spider-boy…” Tony says, tousling his hair a little.

“I think we better skip it for now,” Peter says, not even fighting the spider-boy comment and keeping his eyes closed.

Tony gets them back to the tower and sets him up with all the really old movies his heart desires, and one of the blankets Steve loves when he’s sick.

“Uh, Mr. Stark?” Peter calls before Tony can get very far. “I know you’re busy, but if you wanted to stick around, we could maybe watch Ferris Bueller’s Day Off?

Tony turns, taking in the hopeful look on Peter’s face, recalling how pale and upset he’d been at the school and in the car. Besides, no one should have to be sick alone; Tony flops down next to him on the couch.

“One rule. No calling anyone in this movie old, got it? This is a classic and should be respected as such.”

#anonymous #i love one (1) irondad and his spiderson!!! #ps writes irondad #<3

[let-it-raines]

So @hollyethecurious reblogged this prompt, and both of our minds went crazy with ideas for CS. I don’t know if she’s writing her idea, but here’s a short thing that my brain came up with last night.

Also available on ao3 | here | with the rest of my stuff!

I hope you guys enjoy the ride ;)

                                 Single Riders Won’t Stay Single

Here are some facts:

 Emma Swan loves rollercoasters.

 Emma Swan has never been on a rollercoaster.

 Emma Swan gets to ride her first rollercoaster today.

Emma Swan is supposed to be riding her first rollercoaster with her best friend Mary Margaret Blanchard.

 Emma Swan is not riding her first rollercoaster with Mary Margaret Blanchard because Mary Margaret Blanchard is a traitor who chose to spend the day with a boy instead of riding rollercoasters with Emma.

 Now she realizes that this makes her sound like she is a teenage girl whose best friend is experiencing her first crush, but none of that is true. Emma is twenty-eight years old, and her best friend is wandering around Universal Studios in the hot depths of Florida with her fiancée David while Emma waits in the single rider line for the Incredible Hulk.

 If only she was waiting in the single rider line for Bruce Banner.

 David and Mary Margaret offered to come with her, but neither of them is too big on rollercoasters even if this whole trip to Orlando was Mary Margaret’s idea, so she knows that they were relieved when she said it was fine, she can go alone. She’ll just join them later when they’ve gotten all of the cutesy couple’s pictures out of the way.

 Who is she kidding? They’ll be doing that all day.

 So really, even if she was a little pissed at them for so easily agreeing to let her go off on her own, it’s a blessing in disguise because the single rider line is basically the express line for those not willing to pay for the express passes – she is one of those people because damn everything here is expensive. This way at least she can speed through the line and get paired with a random group of three people without the hassle of getting sunburned just waiting in line. If she’s going to get sunburned, it’s going to be because she spends the day in the sun doing more than one supposedly fun thing.

 Plus, you know, if she ends up being terrified (because this isn’t exactly an easy rollercoaster to start off with but Emma dives deep or doesn’t dive at all), then she can scream bloody murder and never have to see the person sitting next to her again.

 Anxiety is starting to build in her chest the closer she gets to the front of the line, and by the time she’s at least twenty people away from experiencing her first rollercoaster, it’s firmly lodged in her throat. She’s fucking nervous. But she’s also pumped, and she’s not turning back now.

 Emma Swan is not a quitter.

 When she can see the regular line full of friends, families, and couples, she absentmindedly wonders who she’ll get paired up with. It’s not like she has her phone to look at (this thing goes upside down, and she’s not buying a new phone for when it falls out of her pocket) and if she watches how the people go upside down one more time she may back out despite her conviction not to.

 Emma Swan is sometimes a quitter.

 So it’s people watching or zilch, and she can’t help it when her eyes zero in on these two guys who have to be brothers – though one is stockier with curlier hair while the other is leaner with straight hair – and the woman who’s with them.

 They’re about the right distance away to be lined up with her, and considering it’s either them or the group of teenagers where one of them just picked his nose, she really hopes it’s the brothers and what seems to be the curly-haired guy’s girlfriend or wife or whatever. At least she hopes so because she just kissed him, and that would be weird if she was dating the other one.

 She doesn’t have much time to contemplate it though because the cart is rolling into the station, and she’s being herded into the fences they put you in before you can get onto the ride. When the brother with the straight hair ends up directly behind her and the couple behind him, she has to hold herself back from doing a victory dance.

 She obviously does some kind of anxiety dance instead because he’s talking to her unprompted, and she was not expecting that.

 “This your first time?”

 Oh fuck he’s British. Why is that so hot?

 “How can you tell?”

 What kind of question is that, Emma? You probably look like you could pee your pants. Oh hell, she’s totally talking to herself in her head right now, isn’t she? At least it’s not out loud.

 He chuckles, just the smallest laugh, but she still hears it. “You seem a bit too nervous to just be excited. And I don’t know many people in the single rider line who are in it unwillingly, so just a guess.”

 “Aren’t you perceptive?”

 He smiles at her, and it’s obviously the Florida heat that’s causing her to go insane because the way his white teeth flash contrasted to the darkness of his stubble is as hot as this Florida sun. Did she really just think that? Yep, she’s definitely having a heat stroke or something.

 “You’re a bit of an open book, love.”

 “It’s Emma.”

 He smiles again.

 “Killian.”

 Eventually the gates are opened and she and British dude Killian and his probable brother and his probable brother’s girlfriend are strapped into the ride, and wow she should have picked a kiddie ride for her first time. Screw going big or going home. She wants the medium option right about now. But it’s too late, and they’re inching up the tracks without her permission. She really hopes this guy isn’t some kind of preacher who takes offense to foul language.

 There’s definitely going to be some foul language.

 They go up ever so slowly and she thinks her anxiety is calming down, but then Killian looks over at her, and wow he has blue eyes, and says something she can’t quite make out.

 “What?” she yells over the racketing of the ride.

 He flashes her that smile again, and she really hopes she doesn’t throw up on him. That would be mortifying.

 “You know what they say, darling, you never forget your first.”

 And then they’re off.

 She’s not really sure what else happens while she’s up there. It’s all a literal and figurative blur. All she knows is that she started praying in the middle of it and then by the end was sure that she’d cancelled out any good deeds coming her way by the obscenities that flew from her mouth. She’s pretty sure British dude was laughing at her, but she couldn’t tell over the ringing in her ears.

 Once they start their slow (okay, no part of it is slow but at least she’s not hanging upside down again) descent back to ground, she feels the air leave her lungs and she can’t decide if that was awesome or terrifying. She’s honestly kind of in a daze. Or maybe an adrenaline rush. She has no idea what’s even happening until she feels warm skin on her hand and British dude…Killian is helping her out of her seat and back onto solid ground.

 “Was it everything you dreamed?”

 “What now?”

 “The roller coaster?”

 “Oh, yeah, I guess so. Though I do feel a little woozy.”

 “You just don’t have your land legs back yet, lass. Come this way, and we can find a seat.”

 “Little brother, did you pick up a stray?”

 “Younger brother,” British dude one (why does she keep forgetting his name? Maybe the ride scrambled her brain) says to British dude two. “And this is Emma. First time thrill enthusiast who needs a bit of assistance getting her land legs back.”

 Score. She was right about them being brothers. She’s not a private investigator for nothing.

 “Are you here by yourself, Emma?”

 “No, my friends are here, but they’re more interested in walking around and seeing everything than helping me check this off my mental bucket list.” She moves to sit down at an empty picnic table, Killian sliding in next to her while the others sit on the seat opposite. This is weird, right? People aren’t just this nice. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your names.”

 “Liam Jones,” he reaches his hand across the table, and she takes it to shake, “and this is my wife Belle. And obviously you met my little brother Killian.”

 “I’m his younger brother, lass. Smaller in absolutely no way.”

 Did he just wink at her? Is he flirting with her? Does she want him to flirt with her?

 She totally does.

 “Where are you guys from? If you don’t mind me asking of course.”

 “Originally, right outside of London. Currently, Boston.”

 “No fucking way. I’m from Boston.”

 “What are the odds?”

 “Pretty small, I’m guessing.”

 She can feel Killian’s eyes on her, and she finds herself looking down at her lap to hide her smile.

 “Love,” he says, and when she looks over at him he’s scratching behind his ear, “not to be forward, but would you like to walk around with us until you meet up with your friends?”

 “Really? I mean, you guys don’t think I’m a serial killer or something like that?”

 “You could be, but I don’t think you’re going to murder us in the middle of a park.”

 “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

 Emma, despite her usual apprehension to people, ends up spending the rest of her afternoon with the Jones clan. David and Mary Margaret decided to go back to the hotel (for what she’s going to ignore because they are definitely sharing a room with her), and she finds that she doesn’t mind.

 Killian, she discovers, is a damn professor at Harvard. He’s got a doctorate in English, and suddenly her high school diploma doesn’t feel so important anymore. It’s not that he makes her feel stupid or inferior or anything like that. In fact, he seems almost embarrassed about his job, and that doesn’t make any sense. But he just waves her off when she makes a comment about him being some kind of genius, and she can already tell that Killian Jones, for all his bravado, doesn’t like talking about himself.

 He does talk about himself, though, because none of them have express passes, and the lines here are long. Like, what has driven so many people to come to a theme park in the hottest part of Florida in the middle of the summer?

 “I wanted to be a pirate as a child,” he admits as they stand in line for Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey, “but I quickly gave that up to wanting to be a wizard when these books came out, especially being a kid in Britain who very much resembled Daniel Radcliffe. Obviously, though, neither of those things were possible, so I became a boring professor who waxes poetic about novels more ‘refined’ than these and the English language as a whole.”

 “I mean, I wanted to own a bakery so I could eat all the food, but I’m a private investigator.”

 “Why not a baker?”

 She’s not going to tell the whole truth to that, so she says the simple one.

 “I can’t bake.”

 He laughs at that, a fully belly laugh that has him throwing his head back, the sun glinting off his beard to show off the red in it. So he wouldn’t be a true Black Beard pirate if he had gone with that profession.

 “Don’t let that hold you back, Swan.”

 “I’d rather not give all of Boston food poisoning.”

 “I’d eat your pastries.”

 “Is that an innuendo?”

 “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

 “Perhaps I would.”

 The Harry Potter ride is awesome, and if the line wasn’t so long, she’d totally go on it again. But the line is long, and her stomach most definitely rumbled while they were in line – now would be a good time for that bakery, Swan – so the group is in yet another line, but this time to get something to drink.

 She and Belle get butter beers while Killian and Liam get actual beers, and they walk around with them until they find something other than a turkey leg to eat. At one point the foam from the sweet drink gets on her chin, and Killian wipes it off with his thumb, a gentle caress that has her heart rate beating at a pace similar to when she was on the Hulk.

 They end up near the Jurassic Park rides, and despite Killian protesting to the unhealthiness of it all – you just drank a beer, Jones – they eat chicken in the shape of dinosaurs with children all under the age of ten. Killian buys her meal despite her protests, and is she on a date with a guy she just met?

 She kind of hopes that she is.

 There’s a fake giant dinosaur to take pictures next to, and even if you’re not supposed to climb on top of it, Killian lifts her on his shoulders so that she can climb up there to take a picture. It’s worth it when the security guard yells at her to get down because Killian grabs her by the waist, and his hands are so damn warm underneath the material of her tank top. She doesn��t have time to think about it, though, because she’s thinking about how he’s grabbing her hand and jogging away from where they totally almost got kicked out of the park.

 By the time they get back to where Liam and Belle are waiting for them, he doesn’t let go of her hand, even when Liam gives them a pointed glance and smirks. She almost lets go then, but his grip tightens and he smiles down at her with the softest look on his face.

 They wander around for a few more hours, and she already knows that despite her constant application of sunscreen, her skin is going to be pink tomorrow. It’s so damn hot, and she needs some relief from this. That’s when they come across a blessed water ride, and it’s not even a question as to if they’re going to go on it or not.

 They should have noticed, though, how everyone who rides ends up wet – that’s what the women always tell me, love – because while the relief from the heat is welcome, they’re all soaked through their clothes. She thinks it’ll just make for an uncomfortable evening, but then she notices that Killian is staring at her with a gaze that could almost be described as adoring. But she’s distracted by the fact that the water has made his gray t-shirt cling to his abs and his hair fall flat on his head. It’s hot, and she’s not even ashamed to admit it.

 It’s not until later when Belle offers to take her to buy another shirt that she realizes that her nipples were very much on display because of the cold water against her shirt. She doesn’t care about that, but it does explain why Killian was staring at her earlier. She can’t complain. She was doing the same to him.

 So the four of them walk around in soaked through clothes for the rest of the afternoon, riding several other rides but no other rollercoasters until they’ve come full circle and are back at the Hulk.

 “What do you say, love? Want to go another round?”

 She has to pump herself up for it, but she says yes.

 This time, though, she doesn’t wait in the single rider’s line, and when they get strapped in, Killian places his hand over hers on the bars and squeezes, holding onto her tightly.

 This time the ride is a lot more enjoyable, and Emma manages to keep her eyes open the entire time, even laughing when Killian waggles his eyebrows at her at the people behind them screaming. She doesn’t scream, but her insides definitely feel like they’ve been shuffled around for more than one reason.

 Eventually the two of them pair off without Liam and Belle, and today really has been – pun intended – a rollercoaster of a day.

 They somehow end up in Margaritaville, because when in Florida, right? Cheeseburgers, margaritas, and Jimmy Buffet songs are all over the place, and she can barely hear Killian through the music but she doesn’t care. He just slides his chair closer to her, and whisper shouts in her ear, sending shivers down her spine that have nothing to do with the alcohol running through her.

 “So Swan,” he says later that night when they’re walking along the lake back to their hotels across the street from the resorts (they could have gotten on a bus, but neither of them wanted the night to end), “do you think you’re going to ride more rollercoasters or was today just a one time thing?”

 She bumps his shoulder, their hands still interlaced like that’s normal, and keeps walking until they come to a crosswalk.

 “I think I’d be willing to do it all again, but only with the right riding partner. You know any good places to go near Boston?”

 “I feel like I could find somewhere to go, if I have the right riding partner as well.”

 “Who knows? Maybe you’ll get paired up with someone cool in the single riders line.”

 He turns to her then, eyes still blue even in the darkness, and releases her hand so that he can cup her face. Her breath doesn’t hitch, she swears.

 “Emma, I’d really only like to go with you.”

 And then his lips are against hers, so soft and warm and everything like she’s imagined – because she one hundred percent imagined it – and she almost sighs in relief. It doesn’t last long, but that’s okay, and when he pulls back he rests his forehead against hers, the heat of his skin running all the way through her.

 “Yeah?”

 “I quite fancy you when you’re not yelling at ride engineers for giving you a heart attack.”

 She laughs against his lips before pulling back and resting her head on his shoulder as the two of them finally cross the crosswalk on the way back to their hotels.

 Rollercoasters aren’t the only thing Emma rides that night.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fic #cs fic prompt

[avengeultrons]

Title: Final Days of Summer (Reader x Peter Parker) 

Summary: Summer is coming to the end but the reader and Peter are both determined to make the most of every last moment together.

Word Count: 1830

A/N: If you’re reading this on Friday, August 3, I’m a camp counselor until the fifth and hopefully I’m having fun. LOL! Hope you guys enjoy! :) --

Summer was winding down to just a few hot weeks in the blazing heat, the final days of lingering golden sunshine. You had two weeks until school started, two weeks of bike rides to the lake where sun bounced off the water and sparkled like sequins, two weeks of melting popsicles in the park with Peter and painting in front of the fountain. You had to make the most of it.

“What should we do today?” Peter arrived at your house bright and early, sitting on the step of your porch with his feet dangling over the dewy grass. It was early in the morning, the sun hiding behind the trees, the neighborhood quiet except for the birds singing their summertime songs.

You smiled over your coffee mug at him, grabbing the empty picnic basket from the chipping wicker table in front of you, “We can bike down to the water and have a picnic if you’re up for it. There’s a spot of rain on the radar but I think it’s moving south,” you said. You were hoping he was up for it because you already had your swimsuit on and were eager to get your toes into the cool lake.

“Sounds fun to me,” his bike was lying on its side in the grass, back wheel still spinning from when he was hollering at you to watch him dart full speed down the hill.

A wide, giddy grin lit up your face that made Peter’s face turn pink as he watched you jump up and dash inside to put together a picnic. He sat there on the creaky wooden step of your front porch, his stomach twisted into knots. His aunt had finally convinced him to say how he felt, but if you didn’t start on your trek soon he would surely lose all of his motivation to do so.

“Ya ready, Pete?” you jumped from the top step and onto the sidewalk below, hefty picnic basket in your arms. You set it in the basket of your bike and hopped on, dangling your feet as you waited for your best friend to join you.

He laughed as you flipped a pair of obnoxious daisy shades over your eyes, your heart skipping a beat as he did so, “I’ll race you!” he shouted, taking off up the hill to lead the way out of your neighborhood.

Though the sun was still out at your favorite lake spot, a blanket of dark clouds were rolling in slowly. They seemed to glare down at the two of you as you threw a large gingham picnic blanket onto the dock, placing your picnic basket on top. Peter ran up the hill to the large oak tree that suspended its branches over the water like dangling arms, a rope swing that your grandparents had tied long ago still swaying in the breeze.

You howled with laughter, Peter letting out a yelp as he ran full speed to the rope and swung over the water before dropping in, “God, it’s freezing!” he shouted as he came up for air. A small smile broke on your face as you set up your picnic.

You and Peter were best friends, always. The two of you did everything together, but today felt... different. Things between the two of you were starting to feel like more. You rolled your eyes, pulling your shirt off before diving off of the dock into the water below.

“It is,” you finally said in agreement, your teeth chattering as you waded in the deep, frigid water. Peter laughed at you, doggy paddling circles around you. You watched him carefully, as he kicked around. “Stop that, you’re making me nervous!” you teased.

The truth was that Peter was the one that was nervous, he had to find a way to expel his anxious energy. His pink face and shifty eyes were making your stomach fill with butterflies, so you decided to pull a prank on him to help him relax. “Help!” You squealed dramatically, holding your breath as you kicked and splashed, diving under the water.

“Y/N?” he watched for a moment, his heart beating loudly in his ears. Surely you were just pulling his leg, trying to joke around a little.

“It’s got me!” you yelled again, choking on your own laughter.You were under the water for a long while, and nothing but air bubbles were visible on the surface.

“What’s got you? Y/N!” Peter’s eyes widened to the size of golf balls. Maybe you were serious this time. “Holy shit,” he mumbled, taking a deep breath before he dove after you.

You had considered yourself a prankster for a while, a good actress, too. Your eyes were wide open as you watched Peter scramble after you, legs kicking with such force that you were almost surprised when he didn’t sprout fins and gills and swim away. You were trying your best to hide the grin as you shut your eyes when he got close enough, Peter grabbing you by your arms to pull you up to the surface.

Once you broke the surface of the water, you burst out laughing. You could see Peter put the pieces together in his mind until he gasped and followed you to the dock, splashing you hard as you climbed the slippery metal ladder up to the dock.“You’re such a loser! Was that supposed to be a joke?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be a joke, it was one! Why are you so anxious today?” you asked with a laugh, lending him a hand out of the water. He rolled his eyes at you and took your hand, his face turning red. Peter dropped your hand as soon as he saw the quizzical look on your face. “Up for lunch? I packed peanut butter sandwiches!”

You and Peter pulled your picnic blanket up to the edge of the dock to dangle your legs over the water as you ate sandwiches and drank fizzy sodas straight from their glass bottles. Peter was playing an upbeat pop playlist on his phone, singing along to the tunes.  It was the epitome of summer to you. “I wish that this didn’t have to end,” he looked over at you with a bashful smile. Peter seemed to gaze up at you through his long eyelashes, making you practically woozy over the honey coloring in his dark eyes.

“I know,” you blinked out of your daze, popping a grape into your mouth. Peter sighed loudly next to you, staring out at the water.

You nudged him with your elbow and tossed another grape into the air, catching it smoothly in your mouth, “What’s going through your head? You’re acting kind of distant.” You looked up at the sky as a rumble of thunder echoed through the trees, each sound growing louder and louder. Maybe the rain would skip over you? Peter blinked, his face going scarlet as he messed with his hair which was now practically a wet, curly poodle atop his head. “I, nothing. Really, nothing,” he shrugged and managed a light laugh which you raised an eyebrow at. “Okay, fine. Y/N, I do really need to tell you something actually.”

As if the Gods above were playing some sick joke on the two of you- probably because of your mean prank on Peter- the heavens opened up with rain. Not just any rain, a torrential downpour of large, heavy drops of warm rainwater. The kind of summer rain that was harmless, but sent everyone indoors.

The two of you yelped and ran for cover under the oak tree, laughing as you dragged your soaking wet picnic blanket along with you. You were wiping water from your eyes, “Well, that’s ironic,” you said with a laugh.  Rain was still managing to get the two of you wet despite the large tree’s covering. “Guess we’ll just wait for the rain to stop and head home?”

“Well, there’s no lightning, and we still have food to eat. We’re already in our suits,” Peter pressed play on his phone once more and placed it on the dry earth next to the tree’s roots. He stepped into the pouring rain and offered you a hand, “Let’s dance.”

“That’s so corny, Peter!” you rolled your eyes, taking his hand in yours as you bit back a smile. At first, Peter and you were jumping up and down dancing hecticly. Peter was doing some 70s disco move as you stepped and snapped to the beat.

Then, the next song played, slowing things down. The rain was suddenly not coming down in full force, not pounding the ground or the water as hard as it was before. You took Peter’s hands and laughed as he spun you. You lay your head on his shoulder as the two of you swayed together in the rain. “This was my dad’s favorite spot as a kid. My grandparents put that rope swing up,” you said quietly, leaning back to look up at him.

“That’s awesome. I like you,” Peter said it all so fast. So fast that it took a moment for his words to register in your head.

You smiled, cocking your head to the side, “I know, me too. Well, not that I like me too, but I like you, too. Not that I don’t like myself, but not like that. You do mean like that, don’t you?” he nodded, taking your hand as you spun out to stand in front of him.

You held both of his hands as the next song played, a poppier song with a dancing beat. The two of you danced like this, holding each other’s hands and waiting for someone to do something. Peter twirled you around and pulled you into him, dancing in a sort of fast waltz. You couldn’t stop laughing as the two of you danced in the rain, the most cliche thing that anyone could think up, “I’m gonna dip you!” Peter said.

Peter couldn’t stop laughing as threw your head back when he dipped you, your hair grazing the grass. Rain was pouring down from the sky even harder now, which you hoped was now a blessing from the Gods instead of a joke.

When he pulled you back up, his face was alight with glee. Curly hair was sticking to his forehead, dripping with rainwater. He pushed your own hair out of your face and did what you thought he would never do; Peter kissed you

Peter Parker, your best friend, had kissed you in the rain on a hot summer day at your favorite place in the world. He’d finally done it and it was electrifying and full of glee. The kiss was like every summer day you’d spent together; full of joy and warmth and love. The cage of butterflies in your stomach broke open, leaving them to flap around wildly.

Peter had taken a chance and it worked.

#avengers imagine #avengers imagines #avengers #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel #reader x peter #peter x reader #peter imagine #peter imagines #peter #peter parker x reader #reader x peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker #peterparker imagine #peterparker imagines #peterparker x reader #reader x peterparker #peterparker #spider man #spiderman #spider man imagine #spiderman imagine #spider man imagines #spiderman imagines

[allyvampirelass29]

Once Upon a December

Paradise For the Lost, Part 3 A NOS4A2 Fanfiction By: Allyssa J. Watkins

Charlie smiled to himself, as he watched his sweet porcelain doll sleep in heavenly peace, curled up in his backseat, her long, white nightdress trailing off the edge.

"Just a touch, with this one, will do," he spoke aloud to his Wraith, gloved hands gripping the steering wheel, slowly turning his dark, dancing eyes back to the road and the sweeping snowdrifts. "We don't want to turn her, and we'll need her especially radiant for the big day, now won't we?"

He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he drove, taking a deep, cleansing breath, as the Wraith carefully siphoned off some of Ally's youth, transferring it through the upholstery, where it made contact with her pale skin, returning to him what his magnificent gift sought so cruelly to take away as payment. He felt the lines around his eyes smoothed away, his lips plumper, his cheek flushed with her colour. "Why, thank you, Dear, You are most generous...….."

It was hours later when he pulled over on the side of the road, just next to a sparkling white snow covered gazebo. Not having quite the usual haste to rush his pretty passenger off to Christmasland, he fully intended to take his time getting there, for this trip was far more about the lingering magic of the journey, than the end destination. The Wraith's door swung open, and he stepped out, rather lively, rising into his full height, and as he approached the back door, it opened of its own accord unto a most inviting sight.

He climbed into the backseat of The Wraith, sitting himself next to her slumbering form, and slowly eased her silky, curly head to rest against his leg, taking off one of his black leather driving gloves, to brush his long fingernails against her cheek, hearing the faintest, easeful sigh as he did so.

"Hello, My Blushing Young Bride," He whispered, setting his hand, now, atop her blossoming curls, his eyes fond, and yet they glimmered with just a hint of mischief. Her skin was even paler than when they had departed, her cheek bereft of its lovely colour, ironically, not at all blushing at the moment, her eyes darkened around the edges, her pretty face so frail, though none the less beautiful for looking sickly.

"Oh don't worry, My Love," he cooed. "I just had a taste of your fairness," He cupped her stark white cheek in his palm, feeling her begin to stir. "I hope you don't mind too terribly...… One day you'll understand...…. What's yours is mine."

He raised his hand high, snapping his fingers in one swift motion, his long nails clicking together, and a flurry of snow began to fall over them both.

Allyssa felt the tickle on her cheek, and long lashes, slowly opening her eyes, altogether woozy.

"Charles?" She looked at him with weary eyes, carefully raising her head, and he smiled down at her, his eyes jovial and kind.

"Yes, My Sweet? Did you sleep well? I hope you don't mind my little magic trick, I didn't mean to wake you, I just couldn't resist seeing how splendid you'd look with snowflakes dotting your cheek, and collecting into a crown upon your fine hair. I have such an affinity for snow, you see."

He helped her sit up, and she could barely rest her head against his shoulder, her strength all but gone. "It's..... It's so beautiful, Charles, truly." Her voice sounded weak, and he watched her struggle to fully wake, her brow knit together, her emerald gem eyes squinting against the blinding white world that surrounded them. "Forgive me, Charles, but I-I'm not well. I feel most strange...…"

"Oh? Whatever could be wrong, My Darling Girl?" He asked, touching his cravat, deeply concerned, of course.

She rubbed her darkened eyes, and then rested her hand against her forehead, as elegant ladies from his own time often did, and Charlie admired the way the snowflakes formed around her dainty shoulders, and caught in her hair, frozen wonder trapped in such soft, luxurious curls. He even admired how The Wraith's effects only made her lovelier. A touch of death becomes you, My Dear.

"I don't-" She shook her head, looking anguished. "I don't know, I feel..... faint, considerably weakened."

Charles was already bringing his palm flush to her forehead, rather soothingly, before raising his hand to finger the snowflakes in her hair. "Oh you poor thing! I imagine such anemia must have been brought on by the long car ride. Perhaps....." He reached over to swing the door open. "A bit of a venture might do us both wonderous good? Some crisp, fresh air, and you'll be much improved, I'm sure."

He stepped out, bowing genteel, and helped her out too, before offering his arm, which she took most graciously. "Yes, Charles, what a fine idea! I should like that very much."

They strolled together through the snow, and he reveled in it, his porcelain doll clinging to him, needing him, unable to so much as walk without his guidance, his care, his hand pressed possessively against the small of her back. He shook the snowflakes from his own handsome coif, slicking his hair back with his gloved hand, and felt her blissful exclaim, as the sparkling gazebo came into view, twinkling with the white glow of Christmas Lights.

"Charles, oh isn't it divine!? I have never glimpsed any sight quite so magical!!! What snow white exquisite beauty we have wandered into!!! What is this place?

He let his dove twitter freely from her perch to hurry on ahead, and get a better look, that beautiful child's wonder flooding through her angel visage, and smiled to himself, slipping his other glove back on, to cover up his long nails.

"A Snow Globe, My Miss Allyssa. One that I have crafted especially for you. An early Christmas Present, you could call it."

He extended his arms, and clapped his hands together with great gusto, making snowflakes fall in a frosty, sparkling whirl from the roof of the gazebo. She gasped, delighted, her dainty hand resting against her cheek, curls tumbling in a wave over her shoulder, and Charlie Manx knew there was nothing so much in all the world that could have enticed her more than this fantastical scene.

"Go on, now," He encouraged laughingly, catching up with her, placing his hands on either of her sides, leaning forward as she marveled, her breath escaping, the twinkling, fairy lights reflected in her fine eyes. "Your present is waiting...…"

She looked over her shoulder, and beamed at him, lighting up like a Christmas Tree, appearing far less spectral now, toying with her hair shyly. "You would do all of this, weave such wonders, for me, Mister Manx?"

"Ally...…." He whispered, his voice soft with the secrets of the story that lay before them, and he grinned, holding her like something that had always been his, his gloved fingers curling around her more tightly, before he surrounded her from behind, his nose brushing against her cold cheek, pulling her into him, into the fate that couldn't be changed. The woman he had waited his entire vampiric existence to love. Destiny has been dangling you in front of me, teasing me long enough...….

"If I may...... scandalously afford myself the intimate pleasure of calling you such...…. " She melted like snow in his hold, transfixed by his words, all of it feeling like a fevered dream, feeling the heat between them, and his voice was a rasp, his pulse racing with his own dark wit, "I would write WORLDS for you...…."

She trembled, reaching back for him, that soft, womanly hand caressing his freshly shaved cheek, the hand that he could not resist another moment, and turned his head at so sharp an angle, that it fell against his lips, and what she said next was a delicious surprise, making his own heart tremble, exciting him with a malicious tasting irony.

"Oh Charles...… I too would write worlds for you, coax them from the very page, if only your silver tongue might ask."

"Oh yes, My Sweet Lady," He said breathless, visions of black ink dripping down her fingers, a chorus of screams echoing  through his rollicking mind, and she couldn't see the way his brow slanted forward, most sinister.

"I know you will."

It was all Charles could do to let her go, snapping back into his role as princely, and most proper suitor, as he took her hand with gentlemanly grace, escorting her into the gazebo, both of them stepping into the falling snow, their all too real moment fading as quickly as it had come, in a strike of forbidden fire.

Ally's laugh was an addiction, a music composed of pure girlish joy as he spun her around in their secret snowy sphere, his hand clasping hers above her dancing curls, smiling like a man in love as he watched the way her long white nightgown billowed out and rustled around her legs.

He brought her over to the stone bench and she gave him an especially bashful grin, the colour flickering its way back into her cheeks like a newly lighted candle, seeing that there were two porcelain mugs set there, steaming with hot chocolate, a peppermint candy cane placed in each.

"You MUST have looked just this way, on Christmas Morning as a child," He smiled tenderly, as she happily picked up the cup, settling down on the bench, glowing brighter than the surrounding Christmas lights, outshining them most shamelessly. He chuckled blissful, his spirits high, and set himself down next to her, plucking up his own mug with his nimble fingers, carefully stirring the warm inviting refreshment, with his candy cane as he looked at her.

She giggled again, tossing her snow covered curls, as she took a generous drink, letting it warm her up, melting from its rich delicious taste, and his equally decadent dark chocolate eyes.

"I think I must have! Oh but all the sweet dolls, and pretty dresses, and soft teddy bears, wrapped in shining paper, waiting under the tree, cannot compare to the gift of your company, Charles. Father Christmas is far surpassed by one, Charles T. Manx."

Charlie grinned, enraptured by that sentiment, having for centuries thought so himself, and he took a long, slow draught of hot chocolate, looking at her enamoured over the cup's rim.

"You dazzle me, Miss Watkins. Yes, I believe in regards to your Christmas Gifts, you have been sorely neglected. We'll have to..... right such a wrong, now won't we? He took another drink, thinking no one had ever looked so lovely as that effervescent creature in the cascading snowfall, and it were as if she had been the one left for him, Christmas Morning, and wore his name around her delicate wrist even now.

"Goodness, I must look such a fright!" She exclaimed, setting down her cup, frantically fixing her hair, which was slightly mussed, making her look all the more charming. She felt around her eyes, and he took the distraction to move closer, setting his own cup next to hers, reaching his long arm around her, his gloved hand coming to rest upon her feminine shoulder. "Oh my Darling, if you look affright, than I am happy to be scared all the rest of my life."

She looked at him then, like he was in fact, A Christmas Miracle, losing herself in his dark, coaxing features, bringing her hand to touch the side of his face, as if her own fingers did not merit such a privilege. He looked back into her eyes, his brow pulled back, usually so painstakingly put together, he felt he would fall apart with a single pulled thread.

"Charles.........?"

He felt his chest tighten, his wintry wonderland quieted in the face of such a rhapsody of green meadow eyes. Summertime in this eternal winter.

"Did you perchance grow even lovelier this very hour?"

He felt the colour he'd stolen from her, flood damningly into his own cheek even now, as he smiled, looking obviously guilty.

"I assure you, Miss Ally, if I did, it was only accomplished through your own comely company and particular illuminating influence."

Their eyes locked again, neither one of them daring to look away, her other hand reaching for his and he took it at once, adamantly cursing his gloves.

"Are you real, My Dearest?" Charles watched the tears glisten in her eyes, feeling out of his own head. "Or by my usual misfortune of the heart, do you exist only in this, my lonely imagining that is not nearly grand enough to hold you?"

Charles touched her face, taking great care to do so, already whisking away her streaming tears, and she never felt so breakable as she did in this moment, nor had he ever felt closer to her, or more protective of her, and when he spoke his voice was tremulous.

"I am most assuredly real, My Love. It is you, however, who cannot be, being so gentle and fair a thing as cannot breathe and be in such unnatural perfection."

She burst into more happy tears, an incredulous laugh escaping her lips, taking both of his hands into both of hers, with such awe, kissing his knuckles hard. "These hands are not so empty now...…." She whispered, and Charles felt his heart positively ache, his own eyes blurred by an onslaught of unexpected tears.

"Where have you been, Charles Manx?" She whispered to his hands, her voice rife with her own painful longing, and he could barely say the word, he was so affected by her.

"Waiting...……"

The flooding music surrounded them both, the tinkling bells, mystical in their sound, a rather fine rosewood Victrola springing to life in the corner, the symphony's rising swell matching the intensity of their own vulnerability.

"I-I know this song...…." Ally whispered, her wonder especially rare, swaying back and forth, closing her eyes, already moved by the music, under its thrall, as if in a trance.

"Sing it for me." Charles insisted, his voice both forceful and persuasive, bringing her to her feet as she continued to sway.

"Dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember...…….."

Charles was entirely unprepared for the drunken intoxication that numbed his senses as that sweet voice took flight in song, so pure in its sound, such siren's music, and like he'd been possessed by it, he began to dance with her, one hand still in hers, the other resting against her shoulder blade, leading her in a waltz through the snow flurries.

"Yes, that's it," he coaxed, feeling her move with him, mirroring his step, as though it were to her as natural as breathing. "Don't stop."

"And a song, someone sings, Once Upon a December...…" They began to whirl about the enchanted sphere, dancing not just in the snow, but with it, as his angel sang out, her words lilting in their tremor, her gown rustling across the floor, and Charles had never experienced any physical sensation so spectacular as gliding with her in perfect sync.

"Someone holds me safe and warm," She trilled, just as he swung her into him, crossing his arms and hers over her bodice. "Horses prance through a silver storm, figures dancing gracefully, across my memory...…."

"Sing to me, My Snow Angel," He whispered, breathily, just as they stepped back together impossibly close, chest to chest, and he could feel her humming heartbeat. "Far away, long ago, glowing dim as an ember...…."

"Your eyes are my embers," He whispered again as their gazes locked in a fervor.

"Things my heart, used to know, things it yearns to remember...……" She sang back, her voice growing softer, as she looked at him, the undeniable desire, rising with the music

"And a song someone sings...……" He let her fall back just slightly, and she clung to his body, never taking her eyes from his.

His own deep baritone ascended upon the frosty air, his voice, soaring to sing with hers as they finished the song together.

"Once Upon a December...……."

As the music ended in a crescendoing shower of playful bells, he cradled the back of her curly head, still holding her suspended, and unable to feign restraint a moment longer, brought her lips up to meet his, cupping her cheek with his glove, feeling the impassioned rush, as their lips touched at last, moving together, pressing into each other, in a tender finale. She tasted like Christmas, sweet and peppermint as she gave herself to him, her hands primly disappearing into his hair, and as they held each other, the rest of the world fell away, buried by the snow, two dancing figures frozen in one perfect first kiss. A couple falling in love in a snow globe.

#nos4a2 #charlie manx #paradise for the lost #christmasland #charlie manx x oc #the wraith