#prompt 8 favorite scene | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghost-proofbaby · 4 months

Note

15 with Eddie? :)

i woke up this morning, rolled over, and immediately wrote this all on my phone. wasn't even 8 am and i was already all mushy and horny for this man. enjoy whatever this is (morning sex. it's morning sex and being in love) <3

15. "I had a very nice dream that started like this."

warnings: smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), afab reader but no pronouns used, a lot of religious imagery idk why it just... worked?, not edited, 18+ so minors do not interact

pairings: eddie munson x afab!reader

wc: 2.9k+

join the smutty party! send me one of these smut dialogue prompts with a character

The sun hadn’t even rose yet. The sky simply lighter, a gentle omniscient light peaking through the curtains, holding little to no warmth yet when you first awoke. The room is shades of grey with hints of violet, soft pinks just on the horizon but not quite painting the scene.

It’s nice — it’s serene.

You can feel him breathing behind you. Still there, still warm, still holding you with one strong arm around your waist as his nose brushes at the nape of your neck, his snore rustling your hair ever so carefully. It’s almost enough to soothe you back to sleep; counting his deep intakes of air, exhaling in time with him, sinking deeper into bed sheets that are stained with the smell of his cologne and shampoo. Almost.

But when you first awake, you have a different idea in mind.

It starts off innocent enough. Small movements as you press yourself further back into Eddie, minuscule wiggles to just be close to him. You’re still half asleep and yet, every atom in your body is desperate to melt into him. You need every inch of his skin pressed tightly into yours. Your vision still blurry, but the instinct to burrow more tightly into your boy impossible to miss.

“I know you’re awake,” he suddenly murmurs into your neck, voice muffled and rough with his rest.

You hadn’t even noticed the change in his breathing. More focused on the ache between your thighs that you had woken up with.

“Sh,” you jokingly whisper, smiling as you force your eyes back closed. He can’t even see your face, but it feels right to put on an act, “You’re gonna ruin it, Munson.”

“‘M not ruining anything, baby,” he nearly slurs. His arm tightens around you, encouraging all your squirming, pulling your hips back to be flush with his a little more urgently.

He’s hard against your lower back. His flimsy boxers do nothing to hide his excitement. It isn’t particularly surprising — most mornings he wakes up hard as it is — but it does cause a soft stirring within you. Encourages your hips to swivel once more, action a bit more pointed, just enough pressure to cause a low groan to slip almost inaudible from between his lips.

“Careful,” he warns, voice a bit louder now. His tone is still gravely, scratching an itch of the farthest reaches of your mind. Somewhere between a cat’s purr and the sound of tires on dirt roads when your favorite person is returning home. Comforting. Serene.

You press into him further, shamelessly grinding now, eyes still shut, “What? ‘M not doing anything.”

He doesn’t need to see your voice to hear that sleepy grin.

It doesn’t happen quickly — there’s no rush as he slowly tugs at your body, encouraging you to rotate so that he’s no longer spooning you. Your back digs into the mattress holding the warmth of his body from the entire night, wrapping you up in a bliss that’s impossible to replicate. His smell, his warmth, his presence. You don’t think you’ll ever tire of mornings like this, especially not when you finally open your eyes to find him propped up on his elbow, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes and a half-smile that accentuates his left dimple.

He’s fucking beautiful. It takes your breath away.

“What’s got you so excited this morning, hm?”

The light has grown ever so slightly brighter, just enough as though it whispers, look at him. The room is still grey, but your boy is a vision of colors. Dark russet eyes with streaks of gold that the sun couldn’t compare to, chestnut hair that sticks up in all the wrong places from his slumber, skin that washes out in the pale winter morning and only makes the contrast of the soft fuchsias and violets blooming along his neck from the evening before more apparent. He’s softer than any sunrise, more relaxing than any bath he’s ever drawn for you, more calming than hearing your favorite song strummed out on muted guitar strings.

You love him. And that only really fuels your flames.

“I had a very nice dream,” you mumble, squinting up at him, bringing a hand up to his cheek. Your touch is delicate as you trace over his stubble, painting mindless patterns briefly before cupping the full side of his face and threading your fingertips into the edges of his hairline, “A very nice dream that started just like this.”

He rolls his hips against your side, peering down at you as he does so, letting you guide him closer until his lips barely brush yours.

You can hear birds chirping outside. There’s the rumble of a truck engine. The creak of a nearby front door opening and shutting.

The world is beginning to wake up, but you’re not quite yet ready to share the day with anyone but him.

“You did, did you?” he’s awake enough now to tease you, body slowly inching its way over yours, arms on either side of your head to hold his weight. The plush comforter slips down, exposing his bare shoulders as his torso serves as your new blanket, “Tell me ‘bout it, baby.”

Your legs fall open instinctively, making a home for him and only him. A space between your thighs perfectly carved out for the shape and weight of him as he slips into place, hips digging into yours, a homely and familiar position you’ve found yourself in a hundred times before.

It never gets old. It never elicits any less of a reaction from you, always pulling the softest of gasps from your throat as he leans his head down to trail his lips down your exposed neck.

The sound has him pulling you into him a bit more urgently, but his pace never quickens. He’s taking his time. You two have all the time.

A car alarm, distant as could be, sounds off. A voice of a neighbor echos across the trailer park.

Maybe it’s an adoring husband wishing goodbye to his wife for the day. Or a mother, rushing her children for school. There’s a million and one scenarios, thousands of strangers beginning their dreary week, but you only care about the warm welcome of the day that he offers you.

Anything but dreary, even in tired morning light.

“You were kissing my neck,” you say, careful to be as silent as can be, even if it were just the two of you in the room. The world doesn’t need to know you’re awake yet; it doesn’t deserve your attention like he does yet.

His teeth graze unintentionally against the soft spot below your ear, “Like this?”

“Just like that.”

For emphasis, you lift your hips, seeking out his with ease. You can feel him, pronounced as he presses against the thin fabric of your underwear. There’s too many layers between the two of you, too much cotton and linen in the shapes of his t-shirt you’d worn to bed and his damn boxers, but they’ll come off eventually.

Eventually. There’s no rush.

Your head tilts back in a sigh, and he pauses all his kisses to ask, “What next?”

“Keep going,” you squirm, hips continuing to roll, flames of desire lighting in your gut, dancing as soft as the morning light, “Keep going, please.”

The night before, he would have teased your desperation.

But right now, with just you and him and the ghost of sleep, he’s not in the business of taunting.

He listens, a hand coming down to your hip. Not holding it down to the mattress, but simply holding. He lets his thumb slip beneath the t-shirt, lets a rough callous built up from years of guitar and working on his van brush roughly over your skin with the most sensitive of intentions.

Slowly. If the morning wasn’t so heavy still on the two of you, weighing down every movement, slowing every reaction and pacing every adoring kiss, this is the part where the two of you might have grown a bit impatient. More nipping, more bruising gripping, more complaints of going further, further, further.

But today? In this moment? The two of you have time.

A dream sequence of his wandering hands slipping that old faded tee up until it’s finally bunched at your chest, until he’s finally peeling himself away from your body and he’s lifting it over your head. Every move is brimming with a love you never thought possible. A love to swim in, a love to sink into. One with the capability to drown the two of you, but it only breathes a new life into both of your lungs.

When his lips wrap around a nipple and your back arches, that love thrums a bit deeper, coiling up your insides and urging your fingers to tangle up into his curls.

You need him closer.

“So beautiful,” he whispers against your skin as he mouths at it, “So, so fucking beautiful.”

The back of your skull digs deeper into a pillow engrained with the shape of your head from years of rest, a soft laugh slipping in between your blissful breaths, “Don’t lie. I’m a mess right now.”

You were. And so was he. In a barely awake, subtle and tired way. Messy hair, messy marks of sleep across cheeks, messy breaths not yet minty from a morning routine the two of you followed like a religion.

His head lifts, eyes glowing in the limited light, “I like your mess. As a matter of fact, I love your mess.”

His hand on your hip squeezes for emphasis.

You look down, wordless as you drink him in. A vision between the pinks dancing through the curtains, a godly presence as the dawn breaks. He’s a salvation, a new beginning and a new ending. He’s everything fairytales had tried to convince you existed in your youth. Prettier than any angel, warmer than any sun.

And he’s yours. In this moment, and in all the next ones.

“I think I can make an even bigger mess of you, though, if you’ll let me,” a devilish smile finally overtakes his features and both of those dimples you’ve become so unintentionally fond of make an appearance.

He dips his head, lowers his voice, lets his lips explore. You nearly pray to the Heavens above as you feel his hand slip from its gentle cupping of your hip, moving to slip nimble fingers beneath the band of your panties — but you don’t. Not a single God would care about what’s happening right now.

Just two people, two souls, twisting up in their bed sheets. Finding each other, finding divinity, before the sun even has a chance to stretch its arms fully over the horizon.

When he sinks lower and his face disappears beneath the cloak of the comforter, you hold your breath. When his mouth finds your cunt over fabric, you release it with a moan.

“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, both hands pulling off your underwear, pressing a hard kiss one final time over the cotton before he slips them off, “Keep making those pretty noises for me.”

Your thighs drape over his shoulders, heels digging into his back as he begins his morning worship. All lips and tongue and finding the right places as fast as possible. Not out of a rush, but out of practice. He knows your body like the back of his hand, and he proves it.

He knows exactly how hard to suck on your clit once he’s captured it between his lips. He knows exactly where to trace his tongue, circling your hole in lazy circles, not quite teasing but not quite succumbing as he lets you buck your hips in reckless abandon. When to speed up, when to slow down, when to add a finger and when to let the gravel of his voice vibrate against your core — he knows you. Through every little whimper, through every soft chanting of his name, through every tug of his hair.

And he knows you well enough to know when to stop his ministrations, pulling back only to crawl his way back up your body, his boxers slipping off somewhere in the process.

You’re still all over his lips as he kisses you fervently, slick and sticky and a little tart as his tongue dives into your mouth.

And just as he knows you, you know him.

You’d lied, of course. You hadn’t really had a dream just like this. You can’t even remember how you’d awoken with such want, but all that mattered is you had. You’d woken up to an all-consuming need, even if your half-conscious state, and you’d woken up to him.

Your hand reaches down between the two of you, wrapping around him carefully. Your skin is still cooler than his, it’s always cooler than his in the dead of night, and he hisses at the content.

“I love you, you know?” you quietly confess to your lover, as though it might be a sin, as though it might be the greatest secret to ever be held on a patient tongue.

His skin is nearly velvet under your touch, pliant in your palm as you stroke him. Each movement and twist of your wrist begins to unravel him, his head dropping to the juncture between your shoulder and your neck. Every pant of his breath brushes skin just as his snores had.

Gold litters the shade of sunrise entering the room, but the only warm colors you care to entertain are the ones in his eyes as he finally looks at you and tugs your hand away.

“I love you more.”

You could argue. You could fight him on it, start to rattle off your list of all the things you adore about him, prove that no one has ever loved another person in this lifetime the way that you’ve loved him. The freckle below his right eye, the chip in on of his canines from an accident in his youth, the scar on his left knuckles from the first time he’d tried to do a trick with a butterfly knife at nine years old. The jokes he interrupts your day so kindly with, breaking up the mundane with laughter that seemingly fuels you to carry on with your time until you’ve returned home to just him. The passion that flows inside of him until it pours out over everything sacred to him — his music, his interests, his friends, you. A passionate and devoted man, yours to have and yours to hold.

But you don’t argue the point. You just smile as he kisses you, deep and searching, as he lines himself up with your entrance.

He loves you more, you love him most. He’ll figure it out — eventually.

The stretch of him is pleasurable, just like it always is. Filling you, warming you, making that closer you crave so ardently nearly tangible. Every roll of his hips has him reaching spots inside of you to elicit stars to cloud your vision. The morning light, the white hot pleasure — you don’t care what makes your vision blue. You only care that it does, all your mews and all his groans entangling up in the air.

Your palms slide over the back of his shoulders, your fingers dig into soft skin that you’ll spend the rest of your days memorizing.

Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

No prayer has ever been repeated with such need or belief as his name from your lips.

And he returns the favor. Gasping out your name, somehow finding himself just enough in his right mind to continue to whisper sweet nothings against your ear, timing them with his leisurely thrusts.

“So fucking tight and so fucking good to me,” he manages to gasp, digging his hips in a little harsher, “Could stay here forever. Kind of want to stay here forever.”

You don’t know how he’s coherent; you can’t form a single response, eyes rolling, hands clinging to him tighter.

“Look at me when you cum.”

He knows you. He knows you very well. You hadn’t even noticed that coiling in your stomach or the fluttering of your walls when he calls you out, forehead pressing to yours as your eyes open to find his.

It’s not world-shattering when the waves come — it doesn’t have to be. It’s something to wrap around your entire essence, something to soothe and something to coax you into oblivion. Something to get lost in as his movements stutter and his own eyes grow heavy.

He doesn’t close his eyes, and neither do you. Lost in that pleasure, and lost in each other.

You’re still rhythmically clenching around him when he comes, filling you up with warmth, burying deep in you and holding there as his mouth falls open and you're quick to pepper his outstretched neck with kisses. The smallest reminders of all the love you have for him. The gentlest of devotions, sprinkled across the skin of a man who will always know an affection like no other. Not everyone in the world will be so lucky as to know the fondness you offer him, and as far as you’re concerned, that’s how it should be.

Curses spill as his movements slow, before finally stilling. He drops his weight onto you, exhaustion finding its way back into his bones.

There’s things to do, a day to begin. Work and people waiting on you two, responsibilities to worry about and daily mundane accomplishments to achieve. But for now, it’s just the two of you. Awake with the rest of the world, but completely separate as you cradle him and he holds you.

“That was one Hell of a way to wake up, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your skin, and you only throw your head back in a laugh.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

#ghost's stories #smutty party #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #i just really like the idea of waking up to eddie #especially like this #i wrote this half asleep so it might not be the best my brain wasn't really working #i just needed to write it out before work and before i got out of bed #the run on sentences in this one are strong

646 notes · View notes

catws-anniversary · 3 months

Text

Today is exactly 10 years since the LA premiere of CA:TWS! As good a day as any to release all of our prompts so you can plan for the anniversary event.

Kicking off on March 26th, we'll be celebrating a decade of CA:TWS with 8 daily prompts to choose from, ranging from thematic prompts and quotes, to more general prompts and character-specific ones. These can be interpreted in any manner you choose and do not need to be linked to the daily theme.

As a reminder: this is an open event (see rules and FAQs - content does need to relate to CA:TWS), and the use of our daily prompts is entirely optional. They’re there to inspire, not to put up restrictions.

You can always contact us if you have any questions. We're so excited to see your creations!

MARCH 26 THEME: ON YOUR LEFT

The Smithsonian

First Meetings

Endurance

Mission

PTSD

"I'll put it on the list"

Favorite quote

MARCH 27 THEME: STEVE ROGERS

Camp Lehigh

Elevator

Motorcycle

Steve's list

Guilt

"It kind of feels personal"

Favorite Steve quote

MARCH 28 THEME: SHIELD

The Triskelion

Compromised

Surprise Visit

Neighbor

Weapons

"It's called compartmentalization"

Favorite scene

MARCH 29 THEME: NATASHA ROMANOFF

Mall

Disguise

Redemption

Matchmaking

Trust Issues

"Did I step on your moment?"

Favorite Natasha quote

MARCH 30 THEME: TWS CAST

Press Conference

Character Bleed

Photoshoot

Social Media

Stunts

"I'll take this one"

Favorite cast member

MARCH 31 THEME: SAM WILSON

Department of Veteran's Affairs

Partners

Soundtrack/Music

Wings

Missing Scenes

"I never said 'pilot'."

Favorite Sam quote

APRIL 1 THEME: HYDRA

Lemurian Star

Project Insight

Politics

STRIKE

Post-Credit Scenes

"Order comes through pain"

Favorite fight

APRIL 2 THEME: BUCKY BARNES

Bank

Metal Arm

Memories

Ghost Story

Revenge

"But I knew him"

Favorite Bucky quote

APRIL 3 THEME: CAP QUARTET

Washington DC

Breakfast

Bedside Vigil

Uniform

Found Family

"When do we start?"

Favorite duo

APRIL 4 THEME: TO THE END OF THE LINE

Helicarrier

1940s

Devotion

Identity Porn

Reunion

"Schoolyard and battlefield"

Favorite Stucky scene

Happy creating!

#catws #catws10 #marvel events #ca:tws anniversary #fandom events #trackmarvel #captain america #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #cap quartet #captain america: the winter soldier

303 notes · View notes

starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

Note

THE 141 RESPONDING TO READER'S CRAVINGS (pregnant or not) SUSPICIOUSLY BUT STILL GETTING THEM WHAT THEY WANT cuz they love them 😭😭

Hehe, absolutely! I did this one just as pregnant readers cravings if that's okay! I've heard of some really interesting ones to say the least🤣

141's + König's Reactions To Pregnant Readers Cravings

Warnings: mentions of gagging, urge to throw up

Simon Ghost Riley-

Simon awoke to an empty bed, groaning as he stretched his arms out to find your side of the bed cold. He rubbed at his eyes and stretched before swinging his legs off the side of the bed.

His brows furrowed slightly as he could smell the aroma of tomato sauce in the air. It was 8 am, what were you up to downstairs?

He made his way down to the kitchen and found you singing along your favorite song, cooking away at the stove.

"...babe?" He asked, approaching you slowly. "What, uh, what are you making?"

"Have you ever seen the movie ELF? With Will Farrell? That scene where he makes the spaghetti? It just sounded really good." You turned to him with a wide smile, as you giggled maniacally.

Simon swallowed thickly, slightly terrified at what was unfolding in front of him. He'd be lying, though, if he said he didn't find the sight of you adorable. You had a raging bedhead, your makeup still slightly smudged from yesterday, and were draped in one of his shirts, which practically dwarved you despite your growing belly.

He watched as you struggled with the pasta and chuckled slightly before making his way over to you, placing his hands on your waist as he kissed your forehead. "Need help?"

"Yes! Oh, that'd be great. The sauce is almost done. Can you get the syrup and the candy from the pantry?" You turned to him with a smile, and there was no way in hell Simon could ever say no to you.

He did as he was asked and felt his insides churn slightly as he watched you throw all of the ingredients together on the plate.

"Darn bottle won't open!" You huffed in frustration, prompting Simon to come to the rescue. "Thanks, Si. Once it's opened, can you pour it all over the pasta?"

"You want...syrup all over the pasta?" He suddenly realized you were being quite serious about the reference to the Christmas movie. "I uh.. okay."

He felt bile rise in his throat as he poured the syrup all over the pasta and tomato sauce, and it took everything in him not to puke as he watched you scarf it down. "It's SO good, Simon!"

"Sweetheart, I love you, but that looks dreadful." He chuckled, patting you on the head. "I'll go to the store and buy some TUMS, lord knows you'll need it later."

He gave a kiss to your head before grabbing his keys, stopping when you called out to him, waiving a small piece of paper. "Wait! I have a list. Can you get me these?"

"God, you're lucky I love you." He rolled his eyes playfully as he pressed a kiss to your lips. "Oh blood hell, that tastes horrid."

He grabbed the piece of paper and had to bite back a laugh as he looked at what was on the list. "Hot sauce? Ice cream? Tuna? Do I want to know?"

"Probably best not to ask."

John Price-

"Babe, I was going to order us some dinner, what did you want?" Your husband, John, called from the other room.

"I'm actually okay! Order for yourself. Found my new favorite snack." You shouted back, digging into the food in front of you.

Confused, given that you never turned down the chance to order food, John made his way into the kitchen, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you.

You were perched on the counter, 5 months pregnant, and in your lap was a carton of ice cream, with a jar of pickles right next to you. He watched as you scooped at the ice cream with one of the pickles in your hand.

John had to practice wicked self-restraint, as he tried desperately to not puke. "Love. Are you eating pickles... and ice cream?"

You nodded your head vigorously before biting off a chunk of pickle and spooning ice cream into your mouth seconds after. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a content sigh.

"Who knew! That pickles and ice cream would be SUCH a good combination?" You exclaimed, a wide smile on your face. "You should try it!"

"Oh. No, that's all you love. Wouldn't want to take it from you." He replied, trying to be polite. Though he found the idea utterly repulsive, he didn't want to make you feel bad about what you were craving.

John watched on, horrified, as you downed nearly the entire carton of ice cream and at least a half dozen pickles. How you weren't getting sick from it, he'd never know.

"Do you know if we have peanut butter?" You asked, turning to your husband with a hopeful gaze.

John blinked a few times before realizing you were talking to him. "Oh, yeah. Let me uh, grab it for you."

He reached in the cabinet next to you and slid you the jar of peanut butter. You grabbed at it and methodically dipped the pickle you were holding into the peanut butter. This time, Price couldn't hide the look of disgust on his face.

"Oh my God, this is incredible. I don't know why I didn't try this before!"

"I can think of quite a few reasons why a perfectly sane person wouldn't try it." He chuckled, and quickly dodged as you threw the spoon at him.

"Hey, Mister! You know better than to rile up a person when they are pregnant! It's not good for the baby!" You said playfully, as you flicked pickle juice at your husband. "Anyways, go ahead and order whatever you want!"

"Oh, sweetheart, my appetite is long gone."

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

"Hey, when you're out... could you possibly get pickles... and jelly?" You approached your husband shyly as you twirled your hair between your fingers. You'd had this craving for weeks, and it was getting to the point where you could no longer ignore it.

Johnny stiffled a laugh before offering a mock salute. "No idea what you'll do with those, but sure thing. I'll be back soon."

You met Johnny at the door when he returned, and were quick to grab the bag from his hands and sprint to the kitchen. You tore through the bag to grab the jar of pickles, and the jelly, and made quick work of spending the jelly all across the pickle.

"So, you going to make a peanut butter and jelly sandy? I didn't know if we had bread so I bought it... I bought..." Johnny's words trailed off as his eyes landed on you, practically inhaling the jelly covered pickle.

You turned to him with a sheepish gaze as you swallowed the remainder of your concoction. "What?"

"You just...ate pickles and jelly?" He asked, his brows raising.

"Look, it sounds gross, but I promise you, it tastes amazing. Try it!" You held up the second jellied pickle to him with a proud smile.

Johnny shook his head, chuckling and against his better judgment, grabbed the pickle from you, and took a bite.

"Not.. Not terrible." He said, coughing slightly. "Have you heard of dipping chips in honey though? Heard that's a weird craving but am tempted to try it if you're down, we've got the ingredients for it."

From that moment on, Johnny helped you with any pregnancy craving you had, and even encouraged some of them. He'd find various combinations on social media and would try them along with you.

The two of you even made it a game to see who could come up with the tastiest, weirdest combination. Surprisingly, Johnny won nearly every time.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

"Hey, babeeee?" You called out to your husband, Kyle, who was cooking breakfast in the kitchen.

"Yeah love, what's up?" Kyle asked, looking over his shoulder as he flipped the bacon.

"Could you possibly put a glob of Nutella on the side with my plate of bacon?" You bit your lip nervously, unsure of how Kyle would react to the unusual request.

"Sure, but what did you need it for? I don't have any toast made."

"I uh...dipping the bacon in it sounded rather good, so I wanted to try it."

"Well that's a new one, don't think I've heard that one before." Kyle chuckled.

He finished up cooking and put together a small plate of bacon and Nutella for you. He stared at it for a moment, wondering how you possibly could've come up with this concoction. To say he was curious of how it would taste, was an understatement.

He walked over to you with a smile and handed you the plate, laughing softly as you did a small happy dance. "One plate of bacon and Nutella for my love."

"Oh, it smells heavenly, thanks, Ky!" You dug right into the food, groaning loudly as it tasted even better than you thought it would. "Kyle, you have to take a bite. I know it looks gross, but it's so good."

Kyle couldn't help himself. The giant smile on your face had you looking adorable, and he'd do anything to make you happy. He walked over and took one of the slices of bacon before dipping it in the Nutella.

"Holy shit. This is so delicious, babe." His eyes lit up as the flavor exploded on his tongue. He grabbed another slice of bacon and used it to scoop up a large bit of the hazelnut spread.

You giggled as you moved the plate to the middle of the table, and gestured to the seat next to you.

Needless to say, the two of you spent the better part of that morning eating Nutella and bacon, not that either of you were complaining.

König-

"Maus, what's all this in the cart?" König asked as he watched you throw yet another thing into your overflowing shopping cart.

"Oh! I'm just super hungry. I had a few things I wanted to try out." You gave him an elated glance before barreling down another aisle to grab another ingredient.

König chuckled to himself before looking down at the array of ingredients in the cart. You had everything from hot sauce to ice cream to oranges. He swallowed thickly as he remembered reading something in one of the pregnancy books he bought about the weird cravings those who were pregnant got.

You both made it home about an hour later, and he watched as you bolted inside, with one of the bags tucked firmly in your arms. He followed behind you and nearly gagged when he watched you grab the bottle of hot sauce and the jar of peanut butter. Surely... you weren't going to..

"Kö, can you get me a spoon?" You asked sweetly as you opened the ingredients in front of you.

König stood there for a moment, unable to process what was happening before he shook himself. He walked over slowly, grabbing a spoon from the drawer and handing it to you hesitantly. He watched as you snatched it from his hands, got a spoonful of peanut butter, and drizzled a decent bit of hot sauce on top.

You put the spoonful in your mouth and licked the entire spoon clean, moaning as you absorbed the taste. You put the spoon back in the peanut butter, before repeating the process with the hot sauce. "This is just what I needed."

"It...it tastes good?" König asked, bewildered. In his life, he'd seen people eat some pretty weird shit, but this easily took the cake.

"Oh gosh, it so does. Try it?" You asked, beaming as you turned to him. He gulped audibly as he approached you, taking the outstretched spoon.

You watched him with a hopeful gaze, as he took a tiny bit of the concoction on the spoon. He did his best to keep a straight face as he processed the taste and was trying not to gag as he desperately did not want to hurt your feelings.

He cleared his throat a few times before darting over to the fridge to grab a drink. He grabbed the first beverage he could find and downed it. "Maus.."

You gave a small giggle as you watched your husband's struggles. "Not a fan?"

"Oh, no, it was.. it was good. I'm just very thirsty." He gasped out as he finished the last of his drink. "Perhaps, I could make you a better snack though? I don't know how filling this will be for you."

"What kind of snack did you have in mind?"

König gave a hearty chuckle. "Well considering we bought half the store today, I'm sure I could come up with something."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2K notes · View notes

2soulscollide · 1 year

Text

10 underrated tips to become a better writer

hello hello, it's me again!

today i want to share some tips to improve your writing!

1. write in a different style

sometimes it's important to step out of our comfort zone, especially when it comes to writing. the next time you sit down to write for a bit, try to do something different from usual... try poetry if you always write prose; try fantasy if your thing is mystery; try adventure if you only write romance. it's up to you, just do it! who knows if you discover a new passion while trying this exercise...

2. write from a different point of view

i know it can be tempting to always write from a certain point of view, or to always use the same narrator voice, but (like on the first topic) sometimes change is needed to improve. you'll see things from another perspective, and maybe you can have a brilliant idea!

3. write with music

this one is one of my favorites! i love music, my spotify is full of playlists, one for each mood. try to create different playlists for your stories, and pick songs that motivate you, or that make you feel like you're one of the characters of your novel. this will not only give you a boost to write but also make you feel inspired.

4. set a timer

i always do this! it's a life changer. i started doing the pomodoro method to study and realized how effective it is. it's the same when it comes to writing: set about thirty minutes to write (it's up to you, depending on for how long you can be productive) and ten to fifteen minutes to relax. you'll see how much more work you can do with this method!

5. use prompts

you know how much i love prompts! i think they're so useful and help us so much to become more creative. they are a great way to step out of our comfort zone and develop someone else's idea in a span of a few minutes or hours.

oh, and if you're feeling adventurous, try this month's writing challenge!

6. write in a different place

guys! change your writing environment sometimes, especially when you're feeling overwhelmed or drained. i know it can be tempting to always sit on your sofa / bed / favorite chair, but sometimes we get so accustomed to the same place, that our creativity slows down, as well as our motivation. try to go outside to a park or a café, it can be so fun and you'll feel like the main character. or maybe, if you don't want to be in public, try another room in your house! just make sure you feel comfortable and don't have distractions around you.

7. change your writing support

do you always write on your computer? try to disconnect for a while, grab a pen and a paper, and let your imagination flow. it can be so freeing to write by hand sometimes, especially when you're plotting a novel! how cool it is to draw a scheme to connect all the characters and locations, and to doodle...!

8. find a writing buddy

personally, i don't have one, but i know it can be such a fun way to keep you motivated and to keep yourself (and the other person) accountable. it's great to have someone to share your ideas with, to give and receive feedback, and to lift you up to write when you don't like doing so.

9. write yourself a letter

trust me, it's amazing. it can be to your present self, past, or future, it's up to you. tell yourself what your writing goals are, what you are writing, how you see yourself in the future, what you're satisfied with your writing style, etc. just let it flow and re-read it whenever you feel unmotivated.

10. write with a sense of humor

i know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but it can be so fun sometimes. try something less serious when you don't feel like writing. try to come up with a joke mid-dialogue, write a fun scene or re-write a serious scene in a less serious way. this exercise can be great to see things from another perspective, to try a different style, or to lift up your mood.

i hope this was useful! have a nice day!

1K notes · View notes

suzteel · 2 months

Text

↦ #kpanniversary2024 | prompt #8 | favorite scene

#kpanniversary2024 #kinnporscheedit #kpedit #kinnporsche the series #kpts #pete saengtham #vegas theerapanyakul #tankhun theerapanyakul #porsche kittisawasd #porsche kittsawat #kinn theerpanyakul #userboots #userspicy #kinnporschesource #suz creates #*kp

118 notes · View notes

urrockstar-xe · 1 year

Text

bad friend - j.m x fem!reader

posted may 2nd, 2023, 5:19 pm

anon asked: Hello!! Can I request a JJ Maybank x Fem!reader where they are dating with prompt 8. “You know you’re my favorite right?” “I better be” Maybe reader gets into a fight with John B. JJ doesnt really know which side to choose, (between best friend and girlfriend), and reader gets mad/hurt/offended whatever and walks away and JJ follows her

note from xe: strayed a little but I hope you still enjoy it! also this has no actual scene from obx involved I just kind of went with it and sry that jb is kind of a dick.

masterlist

wordcount: 0.6k

“You know what John B? At this point, I don’t give a flying fuck about the gold, I don’t care about being kook rich, I don’t care about Rafe not being in prison and I don’t care about these stupid fucking treasure hunts!”

Your yelling was warranted, John B had been giving you shit all day about how you just don’t seem to care enough like everyone else. And he was right, because “The gold ruined my fucking life! I have nothing! Nothing John B! This is all I have, this group of people right there is It for me”

John B scoffed, earning a glare from Kiara as he still wasn’t listening to you. “You know what I think, Y/n? I think that if you really felt that way, you’d care more, right now you’re just being a bad friend”

“Hey, man-” Pope tried speaking up but you lifted your hand telling him to stop. JJ hadn’t moved from his spot by the railing, and Sarah and Kie were already seated in the boat you were supposed to leave on.

Sick of fighting for a right to have feelings you began walking away, quietly speaking as you left “Fuck you, Jb.”

John B rolled his eyes, dropping it and going to the boat. Pope sighed. “Are we gonna at least wait for her?” “Pope, do you want a chance to get to this cross or not?”

JJ watched as Pope and John B got into the boat with the girls, before looking back in the direction you had just walked in. “Hey, you guys go ahead, we’ll catch up.”

“JJ, what do you mean-” “Just go without me I’ll meet you guys later!” and with that, he was off. Following the trail, you had just taken.

It didn’t take him long to catch up with you, it never did. “Hey there, pretty lady,” He said, coming up behind you. You turned to face the boy, now leaning against a similar railing to the one JJ had just been leaning on a few moments prior.

He smiled at you, not expecting one back but getting a small one in return. “They leave?” you asked softly, your eyes not leaving JJ as he moved to stand beside you. “Yeah,” “without you?” “I’m sure they’ll make do,” JJ joked, nudging you slightly.

You moved your gaze to the floor, wondering what to say next but speaking before figuring it out. “You understand right? Why I’m exhausted? Why I can't keep doing this but do it anyway?” JJ began nodding along but you continued before he could verbally respond.

“Like why it’d be hard, that doesn’t make me a bad friend, right? I do everything for you guys. I hope he realizes that I hope they all do. I hope you do” As you finished, you looked back up at your boyfriend, seeing the soft look on his face.

Suddenly JJ threw his arm around your shoulders, grinning at you. You caught the vibe he was throwing your way, he was trying to lighten the mood. You helped, taking the old baseball cap off his head and putting it on your own, smiling at his hat hair.

“You know you’re my favorite right? Like even Pope can’t compete” You scoffed lightheartedly, “Yeah, I better be”

JJ fixed his hair before he stood in front of you, slowly walking backward as he spoke, “Wanna go back to the chateau? Think there’s some beer left in that cooler” You were already following his lead, “It’s probably warm” he shrugged in response, “so we’ll drink it warm”

“What about the cross?” “If they need our help they can just, I don’t know, yell super loud,” You laughed at this, and laughed some more when JJ fist-bumped the air before turning to walk properly and putting his arm around you.

“So steal John B’s beer?” “Steal John B’s beer”

#jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #outer banks imagines #Spotify

996 notes · View notes

lampmeeting · 9 months

Text

IT'S ABOUT THAT TIME, Y'ALL!! 👀

What is Kloktober?: An incredibly zazzy event taking place in October where we celebrate all things Metalocalypse. There’s a prompt for every day of the month to interpret as you see fit! Draw, write, paint, cosplay, make memes - all forms of participation are welcome!

How do I participate?: Make your totally brutal creation inspired by the day’s prompt and post it using the tag #kloktober2023 - it’s just that simple! Post it here, post it to Instagram, post it to AO3, post it to Twitter, wherever, go nuts!

Am I allowed to–YUP, ANYTHING GOES! There are no wrong answers during Kloktober! :D Your interpretation of a prompt is VALID. If you only want to do a few days, that’s VALID. Don’t burn yourself out, this is for fun! (Even I won’t be doing all of them, so don’t stress!)

What if I haven't seen the movie yet? No worries! If there's a prompt that doesn't suit you, please feel free to reach back in time and choose a prompt from a previous year's Kloktober (2022, 2021, or 2020). And as always, if you have any questions about anything, hit me up!

(plain-text list of prompts below the cut)

1. favorite character or OTP

2. favorite AOTD scene

3. Mordhaus Costume Ball

4. your fave headcanon

5. Abigail Appreciation Day

6. comedy or tragedy

7. missing AOTD scene?

8. mermaids or monsters

9. inspired by Dethalbum IV

10. came back Different

11. horror movie crossover

12. your favorite villain

13. nightmares or visions

14. use a fall food or drink

15. Dethklok on vacation

16. In Memorium: honor the fallen

17. give someone a brand new look

18. inspired by a metal song

19. inspired by an UN-metal song

20. original character or self-insert

21. Dethstaff gets a day off

22. sea horror or cosmic horror

23. use a character new to you

24. novel or video game crossover

25. campfire or left in the cold

26. pick a tarot card for inspiration

27. old fears or new understandings

28. use Brendon Small in some way

29. so what happens after AOTD?

30. HALLOWEEN!!!

31. YOUR choice!

#metalocalypse #kloktober #kloktober2023 #i know i reuse the same basic instructions every year lol...#i'm EXCITED YOU GUUUYYYYSSS

356 notes · View notes

gentlebeardsbarngrill · 4 months

Text

02/19/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew; Rhys Darby; Con O'Neil; Kristian Nairn; Samba Schutte; Wee John Wondays; LubeAsACrew; Stats/Trends; Fan Spotlight; Engagement Prompts; LoveNotes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

Hey All, today's been an off day for me, so please let me know if I've missed something. Hope you all had fun!

= Cast & Crew Sightings =

== Rhys Darby ==

Well, our goofball of a captain is back with more Red Dead Redemption II, check out Part 2 below:

youtube

Rhys also did comedy at Bourbon Room Hollywood last week, and = tmiddendorfphoto on IG captured quite a lot of photos of his set. Feel free to visit them:

== Con O ' Neill ==

Whoops! I had this prepped for yesterday then completely forgot, sorry Con! Con was out seeing BettyRules in NYC!

== Wee John Wonday ==

Kristian had Samba on WJW Today! Lots of cool stuff they chatted above! If you're unable to watch right now, there's a small breakdown of various high points below:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kristian Nairn (@kristiannairn)

instagram

Highlights/Things We Learned:

Samba baby's name is Ocean

Samba was kind enough to stand in for WJW when someone else had to drop off for work.

Samba loves giving Kristian middle names: Kristian Victoria Nairn / Kristian Alexander Nairn / Kristian Valaria Nairn, Kristian Venereal Disease Nairn / Kristian Damien Nairn / Kristian Nicholas Nairn / Kristian Tabitha Nairn

There were live doves that would shit on you on set, and they shat on Samson

Kristian was a professional Chef

Samba wants to do Cryptic Factor w/Rhys

Samba is big into ufo's and cryptids

Kristian is also into paranormal stuff

Kristian - In New Zealand saw weird things on the lawn of his rental place (weird creatures focused on the balcony of his room)

David Fane - ate all the cheese in Calypso's Birthday

They really appreciate all the fans trying to save OFMD and would LOVE to get a season 3, even if only for 2 hours.

Samba would like ot do a bts/blooper combo but has to get permission first

For the wrap party, the cast members got each other gifts:

Samson got everyone crocs

EDIT: David Fane gave them Samoan necklaces (ty @denizbevan)!

Kristian said his "Gifts got stolen"

Samba gave them pictures / BTS videos

Q: Who was most elusive in regards to BTS?

Joel - also Ewan

Q: Favorite Soup?

Sambas favorite Soup - Chicken Noodle (chicken soup)

Kristian's favorite Soup - Cream of Tomato

Q: Did anything change with Roach in S2?

Yes, he became softer / trusting

Q: Lots of great energy and hanging out between crew members and family, (not something often seen) what do you think led to that?

Casting director Alison Jones - awesome at casting

Energy on set was positive and acceptance from the get go that helped

Sailing training, stunt training, sword fighting together helped bonding

Everyone on the cast was odd, and people moved out together so lots of small found family situations

Long hours together

Note: Stede's story time everyone is actually asleep, cause they've been up for like 18 hrs

Q: What's your favourite dessert, that you could live off forever?

Roach - Chocolate Mousse, really fluffy and airy

Kristian - Black Forest Cake

Q: What was best part of working in New Zealand?

8 hr days instead of 18 hrs days

Nature was gorgeous

Maori Elders did a land blessing

Q: Roach played a lot of roles, what do you think was his main role?

Cook, Doctor, therapist in that order.

Q: Would Aamba release a cookbook?

If enough interest, Yes - OFMD Cast Favorite Cookbook

And Mac and cheese recipe

Cakes and desserts

Q: What's it like being a new dad?

Amazing , no time to catch breath, feeling a lot of protectiveness and excitement and energy to step up and take care of the kiddo So fulfilling, Sambas a great dad.

Original Script / Deleted Scene Stuff:

In original script: Roach was going to end up with the crew of revenge, but then changed the script cause Samba would look like a kid who stole his dads jacket, so Frenchie was cap

Originally Zheng called the crew "beta" instead of "tender" but they changed it.

Innkeeper deleted scenes:

Everyone's eating soup on deck, roach was supposed to be serving people soup, and Fang says "Ah, Leroy, I'm so glad you're alive?" and Lucius goes "I'm sorry do you think my name is Leroy?"

Oluwande was crying, Jim asks if he was, he says no he gets that thing when he's around grass, and Jim says "A yeah lots of grass around here"

Other deleted scene:

Kristian saying "its sizest" doing big guy stuff

And roach says he's stuck doing tall skinnhy guy stuff

Pete asks if he's stuck doing bald guy stuff

More Deleted scenes:

Ewan zip lines over first and yells: "I was born to fly"

Roach zip line screams quietly cause they tell him to be quiet, and then he lands and says, "why its so sticky I wanna go back", and he tries to get back on the rope but Frenchie flys in and knocks him over.

Another Delete scene:

Wee John was going to dress up as cupid, would have encouraged Stede and Ed, who would have danced to "At Last" and then when and boned.

== Samba BTS ==

In honor of Wee John Wonday's, Samba added some more BTS starring Kristian, and shared the video he talked about in WJW regarding Kristian's birthday.

== Lube As A Crew ==

Astroglide sent @Seven_Sugars a carepackage for a lovely review!

== Stats Stats Stats / Trends ==

Thank you @meowzawowza_ as usual for the awesome insight!

Trends! Thank you @merryfinches and @debphotog for catching these!

== Fan Spotlight ==

For those of you not on twitter, you may not have seen @wndrngnomad's collage's she's been doing each day for the cast members! They go back quite a while so I'll add them all to the repo, but they kind enough to give me permission to share them with the everyone outside of twitter!

== Engagement Prompts ==

Over on Instagram @saveofmdcrewmates have some engagement prompts for tomorrow: #CrossoverCruesday. Time to switch it up! What is your fantasy crossover beween another show and OFMD? Crossover AU anyone?

== Articles ==

Special thanks to @heide79728 on Twitter for sharing all these international headlines!

HBO MAX "praised the loyal audience that engaged with the series and contributed to building an interactive community around it." - Article in Arabic

"14 Recommended Series-fans are already deeply engaged in a massive campaign to encourage another network to buy the rights and produce another season to give the story the ending it deserves" - Article in Hebrew

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies.

Have you had any water lately? Did you get to go outside and take a walk? Please remember that you need breaks sometimes, even if they're only a few minutes here or there.

You deserve rest-- and when things get rough, your brain needs a couple minutes to reset. Remember to take care of yourself and practice some self-care.

Self care means fun too!

Do something you enjoy that makes you smile. I'm not a fan of sticker/sticky things-- but I know a lot of people who love googly-eyes so I figured this was appropriate.

Anyway, gnight/gday crew, have a lovely one.

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

I think I've done this Darby one on these recaps before, but I needed to have a theme tonight, and the them is well, I think you know. Yes that is Taika in the stash, from "Boy".

#Instagram #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #our flag means death #adopt our crew #save ofmd #ofmd #taika waititi #samba schutte #con o'neill #david fane #joel fry #ewen bremner #rhys darby #ofmd bts

119 notes · View notes

sunflowersandsapphires · 8 months

Text

Fall Drabbles, Day 8

prompt: curling up with a book

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

summary: Matt accidentally startles you and feels really bad about it.

warnings: Swearing, fluff

a/n: This one got away from me lol. Also I have to work a 12 hour shift today so I will probably not be posting the next few days! Sorry my loves!!

w/c: >1k (the new longest)

A sharp crack of thunder echoed throughout Hell's Kitchen, shaking the walls of your apartment and causing you to flinch violently. Shaking your head at your dramating reaction, you tried to get your breathing under control before picking up the novel you'd dropped. The pounding rain acted as a metronome, allowing your heart to mirror its steady pace.

Licking your thumb, you turned through the crinkled pages of The Shining, one of your favorite books, to find your place. You read it every year as soon as the weather turned and the trees dropped their leaves. It was a comforting tradition, but, in another sense, a huge mistake that you made annually.

See, you loved the story, but your nervous conscious was easily swayed into paranoia when you partook in spooky activities--such as reading Stephen King. (As illustrated by your reaction to the storm outside). In your opinion, though, the week or two of fright were worth it for the good read. Besides, these days you had a strong man to protect you from the inevitable nightmares.

With a steaming cup of hot chocolate beside you and a soft fleece blanket across your lap, you settled further into the couch, holding your breath during a particularly suspensful scene. Another crack of thunder roared outside the windows, rattling the glass as it whooshed past.

Smirking pridefully, you instinctively sad up a little straighter when this noise didn't spook you. “Gonna have to try harder than that, thunder.”

“I'm not sure it heard you, love.” Came a rumbling voice from above you, which your pattering heart was not prepared for.

“CHRIST ON A CRACKER!” You screeched, leaping off the couch and ungracefully faceplanting as your feet got snared by the throw wrapped around you. Thankfully, your hands shot out to catch you before you got an impressive concussion. Unfortunately, your right shoulder hit the ground first, underneath your full body weight, leaving you with a stinging ache. “Ow, fuck!”

The concerned face of your boyfriend appeared over you, his hands prying off his helmet before helping you back onto the couch. “Shit, darling, are you ok? I didn't mean to startle you that badly.” Matt winced, guilt heavy in his pretty eyes.

Forcing a smile, you reassured him. ”I'm ok, Matty.“ Gratefully leaning into the warm embrace he offered, you gave a bashful chuckle. ”Pretty sure my ego is more bruised than my arm.“

”Can I check it out for you?“ After three years with the man, you knew this was more of a demand than a request. Sighing, you offered up the injured limb.

Matt gently prodded at the joint, carefully turning your arm from side to side with his head tilted down. Seemingly satisfied with his examination, he set your arm against your side and stood up, heading for the kitchen. Pouting in his absence, you folded your hands together and looked after him. ”Did the city treat you alright this evening?“ Your voice was even, but you were sure he could sense your hesitation nonetheless.

Given your boyfriend's tendency to fall into deep pits of remorse over the smallest mistake, you were confident he was beating himself up for injuring you--despite the fall being entirely an accident and the fact that your clumsiness was in no way his responsibility. When he was in self-flagellation mode, easy questions that encouraged him to focus on the fact that you were alive and safe usually helped.

”Guess so.“ Was Matt's firm response. Apparently 'easy questions' wouldn't be the solution tonight. Stifling a sigh, you pivoted to a riskier tactic.

“Matthew, I can smell the self-pity from here. Please stop beating yourself up and come sit with me?“

Padding back over to you, Matt handed you a wrapped ice pack. ”You need to ice that shoulder first.“

”Pretty sure those two things aren't mutually exclusive.“ You laughed, stroking over his suit-covered arm gently. ”Please?“

Matt perched stiffly on the edge of the couch, tilting his head at you. ”Happy?“ He asked, the question dripping in sarcasm.

With a mischievous grin, you wrapped your arms around his waist, tackling him to the couch cushions. He grunted, but made no move to stop you. Wiggling up his muscular torso, you kissed the tip of his nose, which he immediately scrunched with feigned contempt. Egged on by his surly reactions, you peppered kisses all over his face--breaking into a radiant grin when he laughed brightly. ”Ok, ok! I love you too, bug. Will you ice your damn shoulder now?“

Gratified, you placed the pack against your sore arm and squirmed in between Matt and the back of the couch. Flipping onto his side, his face softened as you pressed your forehead to his. ”Hi,” You greeted him happily, hand coming up to cradle his cheek.

Closing his eyes, Matt let out a breath as you stroked a thumb over his stubbled cheek. ”Sorry about your arm.“

”Matty, sweetheart, I already told you to knock that shit off. I was distracted by my book and I tripped over my blanket when you startled me.“ You mock glared at him, poked his solid chest. ”Tell your brain to forgive you and move on.“

”Hmmm, my brain says no.“ Matt chuckled, but there was no jest in his words.

”Ugh, Matt!“ You groaned, snuggling into his chest. ”What can I do to get you to forget about this?“

”Well, I think I'd be more likely to forget if I got another kiss.“ Puckering his lips, he closed his eyes expectantly. You scoffed, but gladly pressed a longer kiss to his mouth.

”That better?“ You asked, brushing your noses together as your hand moved across his jaw and into his hair.

Your boyfriend went slack against you, murmuring in assent before asking, ”Whatcha reading tonight?“

”The Shining. That's why I was so spooked when you got home.“ Matt chuckled quietly at the admission.

Burying his face in your chest, his lips tickled the skin over your collarbone. ”Read some to me?“ His voice was small, as if he expected you to turn him down.

”Of course, love. Did you want to change first?“

Matt simply shook his head. So, you retrieved your book and opened it to the page you'd last read. Kissing his forehead, you grabbed the blanket from the floor and spread it over the two of you. ”Wendy sat in the overstuffed chair by the window with Danny on her lap, holding him, crooning the old meaningless words..“

Your velvety voice surrounded him, lulling his adrenaline filled body into a state of peace. His breathing evened out as you continued petting his hair and reading aloud. It wouldn't be long until he fell asleep, but he knew you'd be there when he woke up.

198 notes · View notes

auseyre · 1 month

Text

Prompt 8-Favorite Scene part 2

Bits that make me scream

Vegas putting his gun in his non-dominant hand because Pete shot him to keep him from using his gun hand. He expects to die right here but Korn of course won't even let him have that.

Kinn and Pete paralleling, asking Porsche and Vegas not to pull a gun on Korn in exactly the same way.

Pete wanting to run after Vegas immediately but realizing that he has to do this properly to appease Korn and for his own sense of duty to some extent.

Pete thanking Korn for his mercy in not killing Vegas - yeah this one breaks me. Legitimately if any character in the entire series should be the next head of the mob, it's Pete.

I consider this one long, perfect scene.

#kpanniversary2024 #kp anniversary 2024 #kp rewatch #prompt 8 favorite scene #ep 14 #pete saengtham #vegas theerapanyakul #kinn theerapanyakul #porsche kittisawasd #korn theerapanyakul #gun theerapanyakul #nampheung kittisawat #part 2 of 2 #will it ever stop? probably not till i have one for every ep tbh #pete understanding always how the game is played better than anyone

36 notes · View notes

oftlunarialmoon · 3 months

Text

75 Agere Journal Prompts MEGALIST

Ciao lovelies! The first time I wrote about Age Regression Journals was in 2018, a whole 4 years ago (that feels weird to say omg). So I thought, since I’ve had 4 years to compile it for myself, I would share my MEGALIST of 75 Age Regression Journal Prompts with you all!

For more info about Agere Journaling, see THIS POST from 2018.

For Nightsong’s article about Vent Journals, see THIS POST from 2019.

For 8 Journal Prompts, see THIS POST from 2019.

And finally, for 52 creative writing prompts/quaintrelle prompts, see THIS POST from 2019.

And now, let’s begin this list!

75 Agere Journal Prompts - MEGALIST

*PS* scroll to the bottom, for pictures of examples from my personal journal!

Draw yourself a kawaii bento lunch!

Write down any chores for the day as a to-do list or sticker check off list

Design a smol outfit

Make a playlist for your littlespace

Draw portraits of your stuffies

Write your headcanons for your comfort characters as caregivers

Write down some animal facts from different parts of the world that interest you!

List items that are your favorite color

Make a magazine collage with a specific theme

List ideas you want to do in certain seasons

List your favorite agere nicknames

Write down any agere headcanons you have for fictional characters or OCs

List stuffie name ideas

List all your current stuffie names

List your favorite phone apps for littlespace

Make a tier list of your opinions on different types of candy

Draw what your favorite characters would look like as stuffies

Invent a new kidcore fashion trend

List 5 facts about your favorite sea animal

Design your Jolly Roger if you were a pirate

Draw yourself as a Pokemon Trainer

List how you deal with stress in agere methods

Write out any recipes you can make while regressed

List crafts you’d like to make

Make a page about your morning routine when regressed

Make a page about your night time routine when regressed

Write out any rules or guidelines you have when regressed

What’s on your Agere/Littlespace Movies list?

Write about what you would do on a visit to the beach

List any animes you like when small

List your favorite agere books

Dear Past Me - What would you tell your past self?

Dear Future Me - What would you tell your future self?

List songs that make you regress

List your regression triggers (positive or negative)

Write about how you would comfort a friend in need

Write about your dream vacation

Make your christmas/birthday/holiday gift wishlist

List your fave agere video games

List your favorite stims

Write a letter to your favorite fictional character

Write a letter to a friend or family member

Play I spy and write down the categories and things you find

Make a page of your top 5 agere songs from the last month

List free activities you can do when regressed

Make a collage page from a coloring sheet and stickers

Play scavenger hunt with stickers of your preferred theme

Use a page to write down word games like word scrambles and mad libs

Fill a page with positive messages for yourself to read later

Write down tarot interpretations if you do tarot reading while smol

List ideas for kandi bracelets you could make

Declare a random day a holiday of some kind, write down how you celebrate it

Use a page to “braindump” all of your current thoughts, even if it’s babbling

Make a sticker collage inspired by your caregiver

Make a sticker collage inspired by the seasons

Trace your hand onto the page and give yourself fun nail art, tattoos, or accessories

Draw a race track for a toy car, add obstacles or scenery with stickers

Write a social media profile page for a comfort character

Make a “top secret” file with your stuffie’s secrets >:)

Make a collage inspired by yourself

Dedicate a page to facts about one of your special interests

Write a poem for your pet (or fave stuffie!)

Draw a scene around a sticker of your favorite animal

Draw the inside of a house and use stickers to furnish and decorate it

Draw a scene to play with your toys in

Try a mindful reset page (List problems you’re facing, then list more positive mindset changes to each one)

Document the stories you play out with dolls or toys

Write down “this or that” prompts in one color then answer them in another color !

Use stickers to tell a story or make a fun comic

Fill a page with word art, using any words that make you feel smol

Make a list of all of your OCs

Use a page to document Minecraft coordinates of your favorite builds

Draw the outline of a purse or bag, and use stickers to show what a character of your choice would have in their bag, or-

Use stickers to show what you would put in your dream agere bag!

Draw a face on a page in marker or pen, and use makeup to decorate it! (or face paint :p)

Examples From My Journal:

#agere class #agere classroom #agere daycare #agere school #agere #age regression #sfw agere #sfw littlespace #age regressor #sfw age regression #agereg #age dreaming #sfw little blog #agere blog #Ciao lovelies #Agere diys #Agere diy #Agere craft #Agere crafts

79 notes · View notes

familyvideostevie · 2 months

Text

5k celebration: emma's garden

THIS IS NOW CLOSED. THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO PARTICIPATED! YOU CAN FIND FINISHED FICS AT THE BOTTOM.

thank you so much for being here. i know this blog has changed a lot since i started it about a year and a half ago, but it means so much to me that even one person wants to hang out, let alone this many. writing is deeply personal and sharing my work with you continues to be both cathartic and also a challenge. i will never stop being grateful. none of this happens without you, so, please celebrate with me! : )

navigation, masterlist, guidelines

anyone can join whether you follow me or not!

send as many as you want, but make each ask separate please!

the deadline for this will be a tentative may 8!

DO SEND: anything for the characters listed in my guidelines/anyone you want to ask if i'd write/talk about, fun thoughts, questions about me

DON'T SEND: the things listed in don't send on my guidelines

i will be write nsfw blurbs if you ask off anon

i will try to do as many asks as i can but i cannot guarantee that i'll get to all of them!

everything will be tagged #emmas5kgarden and fics will be compiled into a masterlist once the celebration ends!

so, let's celebrate! send me any of these ⬇️

🪴 get your hands dirty and plant some seeds!

you do a little bit of work and i'll do the rest! pick a character from my guidelines, an au theme, and a prompt and i'll write a blurb (<1k words) for you. use this post or come up with your own!

🐝 look at the beautiful bee hive!

send me the title/description of a fic of mine and i'll tell you a little bit about what it was like working on it/a headcanon/behind the scenes moment.

📚 or 🎧 to sit in the sun and read or listen to music

send this and a little bit about your taste to get a personalized book or song recommendation.

🥕 let's gather some fresh veg from the garden!

send me this and i'll make you a three-pic moodboard (feel free to specify a little theme/aesthetic!)

🍇let's have a picnic!

let's hang out and talk! send me classic ask games (ama, fmk, tym, etc) or just come chat with me in my inbox.

🌷 pick some flowers!

help spread the love and make a beautiful bouquet for someone else. send me a fic rec/author rec/gush about your favorites here.

please reblog to spread the word! thank you :)

CELEBRATION FICS (coming soon):

roommates!au with steve harrington: trying to not hit anything or each other, when there is a power outage and it’s way too dark | 1.3k

coworkers!au with bradley bradshaw: it's hard to hide your relationship from your coworkers, when your whole team is a tight knit group and basically one big family.

friends with benefits!au with bradley bradshaw: they have been friends long before the benefits came along and they don’t know if they’re ever able to go back to just being friends

#emmas5kgarden #joel miller x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #rooster bradley bradshaw x reader

76 notes · View notes

arteastica · 10 months

Text

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (8)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 4.2k

“My goodness! You are totally going to find a husband tonight.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” The crisp air flowing in through the open window caressed your bare skin and prompted you to ask the question.

“Who cares? Woman, look at yourself.” Hitch grabbed you by the shoulders and turned you to the mirror.

You examined your reflection again, trying your best to find the confidence required to finally step out of the ladies’ room. You had chosen one of your favorite silk dresses for the occasion: sky-colored, cowl neck that stopped exactly where it was comfortable, and thin bow-tie straps to hold everything up. Yes, definitely a favorite. Favorite, as in ‘best liked’ and not as in ‘frequently worn’. In fact, this was the first time the poor thing ever left your room, where a teenager version of yourself used to wear it late into the night, when the risk of getting caught by your mother equaled zero. She didn’t even know you owned it, but you were certain the thigh slit and the flirty silhouette would be reason enough for her to disapprove. But to be fair, you didn’t remember the fabric ever hugging you this way before. Your body had obviously changed a lot over the years, and you were surprised it still fit.

“Jeez. I really wish I wasn’t on duty tonight, so I could wear one of these.” Hitch let out a disheartened sigh. Her chin was resting on your right shoulder and her eyes examined your reflection from head to toe. When they stopped at the slit in your right leg she said “Those thighs won’t have a problem finding their way into a gentleman’s heart.” She gave you one of those smirks you had missed so much. “Or into his bed…”

“Sadly, I’m not here for that tonight. I’m here for work.”

“Sorry but no one who is here just for work, one, looks this good in a slip dress, and two, takes this long to come out. What about punctuality?”

She was right. You had already taken too long. So, very reluctantly, you decided to walk out the door. But as soon as you stepped out, heads started turning in your direction, the attention mostly coming from women wearing pastry-shaped gowns and opera gloves.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t expecting the attention. You knew the dress had been a daring decision. The moment you slipped on it, you confirmed it had the potential to make heads turn, and maybe some part of you actually wanted a taste of that. Would admitting it make you an attention-seeker? According to your script, however, the scene was supposed to play out a little different, and you had imagined yourself actually enjoying it. But, in real-life, the only thing the dress was succeeding at was awakening dormant insecurities, like that feeling of inadequacy you had almost forgotten about. How could you have forgotten though? You used to be inseparable. That was until you started working at the Survey Corps. You thought of your office, and the familiar picture comforted you for a brief moment, until you remembered it was now miles away.

You smoothed down the front of your dress, in part to look busy and also to dry your sweaty palms, but unlike the silky fabric, the crowd’s eyes felt rough on your skin. And you wished you had decided to wear something less special, something that would allow you to camouflage and pass as one of them. Why did I wear this? Your eyes tried to find the answer in a very promising spot on the floor. Maybe it had been out of pity for the dress. As a dress, it would be disappointing to spend all your life in a dark closet. Maybe it had been for old time’s sake. Since you hadn’t felt that out of place in months, maybe you wanted to remind yourself of the sensation. Or maybe it had all come down to something as simple as the color, and how it reminded you of something you had grown to like so much over the last months.

You turned to Hitch, displaying your bare back to the crowd.

“I can’t do this. Not like this. I’ll go get my coat.”

“Absolutely not. You look perfect, that’s why they are staring, because they like what they see. In fact, I would be worried if they weren-” Her eyes got lost in a particular spot on the other side of the room. “Woah, your boss is hot.”

You turned around and felt like you were coming undone. You didn’t understand why all these eyes were fixed on you, when clearly the best view was across the room, where he was standing.

One look at him and it was obvious that tuxedos had been created just so they could be worn by him. That black suit was exactly the kind of fit a woman would pick out for her man to wear at an event like this. And, while the slicked back hair undoubtedly contributed to the fireworks lighting up all over your skin, the real devil was in all the other details. It was in the way he kept his shoulders back and his chin high as he spoke, in the unconcerned drumming of his fingers against his leg, in the way he threw his head back when laughing, and in the way he seemed to fall into place everywhere he went, whether it was a room full of intimidating people, or a field full of titans. Confidence shone through his skin. Confidence, as well as everything else that made him attractive, came from deep within.

“Alright, now go out there and fulfill your duties.” You felt your friend's hands on your shoulders. “That also includes finding yourself a rich suitor who asks for your hand in marriage.” She whispered into your ear before pushing you into the crowd.

Across the room, the commander was talking to a group of older-looking men. Despite your legs feeling as steady as a house of cards, you started walking towards him. You had successfully made it halfway through the uncomfortable stares, when his eyes finally landed on you. Like everyone else so far, he did a double-take. However, unlike the others, he didn’t turn to the next person to whisper something. Instead, he started making his way to you. And most notably, unlike the others, whose eyes traveled all over your body, back and forth between every patch of exposed skin and resting at all the wrong stops, his didn’t. As he walked to you, his eyes were fixed on yours. And, in that moment, you realized you were very lucky. Because those were the kind of eyes that made the world around you vanish, uncomfortable stares and all.

When you finally met halfway, you decided you would gladly give up your ability to blink. It would be a small price to pay if it meant you would never miss a second of that irresistible smile and the way it made his eyes crinkle. He reached for your hand, and took it in with the kind of gentleness you wouldn’t expect from a man who spends his life around flesh-eating giants.

He brought your hand to his lips, and when they met the back of your fingers, you prayed he didn’t notice all the hairs on your forearms standing on end. The rest of your body was clearly getting jealous of your hand. You could tell by the way your lips parted and let out a very subtle, and you hoped silent, moan.

“May I?” He offered you his arm and you took it promptly, deciding you wouldn’t mind holding on to it for the rest of your life, and if that wasn’t possible, then at least for the rest of the evening.

When you got a closer look at the men he had been previously talking to, you realized you actually knew one of them: Commander Pixis, head of the Garrison. You had never met him formally, but you had seen him a few times around the capital. However, before any introduction could take place, a man with gentle-looking features spoke in a soft voice.

“My lady, Erwin is undoubtedly a very lucky man.”

His words took a few seconds to register with you, but when they finally did, your ears started burning, the sensation spreading like fire to the rest of your face as you realized that they, most likely, still didn't know you were his assistant.

After conversing some more, the commander asked to be excused and guided you to another group of people. And so, as you made your way around the ballroom, you realized there were even more eyes on you now, and it wasn’t surprising, the man beside you was reason enough. But the stares didn’t hold as much weight as they did before, because right now you had his arm to hold.

You glanced up at him, and your lips curved slightly as you remembered the little incident from earlier. Much like that man, these onlookers most likely didn’t know you were just his assistant. And something about that, and the speculations it could lead to, the rumors it could start, and everything else it could imply about you and him, made your insides feel as fizzy as the contents of the glass you were holding. For all they knew, the night would end with your dress discarded on the floor, and bodies tangled under the covers. And you found yourself wishing that whatever assumptions they were making would actually come true.

As the night went on, a couple of things caught your attention. One of them was Captain Levi, who looked like he would much rather attend his own funeral. And the other one was a certain pattern of behavior: Every man you met while holding the commander’s arm, purposely avoided looking at your exposed thigh or bare shoulders, and while their eyes would occasionally linger on your collarbones for an innocent second or two, they would quickly migrate somewhere else.

The evening was already coming to a close when the pattern was sadly broken. To be more precise, it was when you met the group of men standing at the top of the stairs. They had been laughing boisterously and drinking steadily since the evening started. Most of them looked like they were well into their fifties, and all six men were wearing ostentatious sashes dotted with the biggest collection of golden studs you had ever seen. The loudest, and presumably oldest, of them all greeted the commander animatedly.

“Erwin Smith, the legend himself. I’m still waiting for that rematch.” You noticed the cufflinks on his shirt and wondered if those were diamonds, because if they were, then they’ve got to be the biggest in existence. “I’ve been working on my double attacks.”

“Intuition is sometimes far more helpful than memorizing patterns, my lord.” The commander replied in a gentle voice.

“That’s why you’re always one step ahead.” The older man let out a guffaw that, in retrospective, felt a little unnecessary, before turning to you. “Woah. Just like in the game, you never cease to surprise me, Erwin. In very pleasant ways, I must say.” His eyes meticulously outlined all the curves of your body, paying special attention to your covered cleavage, and the amount of time he spent there made you wonder if he had somehow developed the ability to see through fabric. “However, I will never understand how your mind works. There is no way I would bring the missus to an event like this. I mean, the whole purpose of a party is to have fun!” The man and his friends broke out in strident laughter, and that was the only moment his eyes left your body, when he tilted his head back to enjoy his own remark.

“I mean no disrespect to you, my lady,” he may not but his body language sure as hell did, “so please don’t take offense.” With tears in his eyes and still recovering from earlier, he acknowledged you briefly before turning to the commander. “But I was hoping we could become family someday, Erwin. You left quite the impression on my youngest.”

You suddenly felt a burning sensation in your chest, and it had nothing to do with the unsolicited attention it had been getting from the man.

“She asked if you were coming tonight. Sent her regards.” The audacity of this man. If the commander were actually your man, how would you feel listening to all this? “Maybe you could join us for lunch tomorrow. She would be delighted to play against you one more time. She’s brilliant, isn’t she?” And right there and then, you realized there would actually be no difference between how you would feel if you were his wife and how you were feeling in that very moment. This man was basically setting the commander up for a little chess date with his daughter, when his alleged wife, fiancée, girlfriend or whatever, was standing right beside him, holding his arm.

“She’s a very gifted young lady.” The commander’s deep voice contrasted the man’s grating tone. “However, I’m afraid I must decline your kind offer, my lord. I will be returning to the headquarters first thing in the morning.”

“I see.” The man cleared his throat, the gleeful undertone seemingly gone all of a sudden. “Anyway, you’re a lucky man. There’s no denying.” His eyes bore into yours, successfully reminding you of a vulture scavenging for rotting carrion. “Your lady is gorgeous.”

That last remark made you feel like you had swallowed a rock; the way he had said it made your legs feel heavier than concrete; and the stare he had given you while saying it, made you feel as clothed as a titan. You knew once this man found out you were not with the commander, you were done. Once, the words ‘she’s my assistant’ left his mouth, this man would come after you. And you also knew that you wouldn’t get far, not with your legs in that state.

“Yes. She really is.” The commander’s voice sounded a lot like the rainy mornings back at the base. You looked up and found him staring at you, his lips curved into a soft smile, his gaze wrapping you like that well-worn blanket your mother always told you to throw away but you never did. You stared back into his eyes and what you saw, took you back to that day in the Forest of Giant Trees, with his heartbeat like a lullaby, and his arms like a sweet childhood memory.

But then, murmuring sounds came flooding in like muddy water spilling out of the sewers. You turned your head in their direction and realized the older man wasn’t the only one who had taken an interest in your dress, but also his friends.

And you decided you would gladly take the women’s stares over these any day. Who knows, maybe the women had only been thinking about how the color didn’t suit you or how fake the silk looked. But something about the way these men were grinning and whispering to each other told you that they were looking for something in particular, and you were sure it wasn’t the tailor’s name. You would much rather feel cheap and underdressed, than dirty and undressed.

You held onto the commander’s arm with your other hand as well, and snuggled closer, in what seemed to be your body’s desperate attempt to elude the attention.

“If you excuse us, gentlemen.” Much like the seasons, his voice always seemed to know when it was its turn to arrive. He guided you away, and at some point between the top of the stairs and the main hall, his hand came to rest at the small of your back. Even through the fabric, his fingers caused your skin to burn. And for the second time that night, you could feel the rest of your body getting jealous.

“Commander, I think I’ll call it a night.” You announced once you reached the main hall. “Thank you for tonight.” You gently let go of his arm and wondered if that was what autumn leaves felt as they were about to fall from the branches.

He nodded slightly, and, probably having no idea how nice it was going to feel, then said: “I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh don’t worry about it. My house is actually very close.”

“All the more reason to do it then.” His eyes crinkled in that enticing way they usually did and, honestly, you didn’t feel like pretending you were against his proposal.

The distinctive smell of frost infused the night air, and slipped into your bustle coat as you walked down the familiar streets that led to your house. There was a lingering warmth still left from the summer, but the mist that hovered above the cobblestones signaled the impending arrival of winter. However, they weren’t fighting for dominance, and you wondered if you would ever know such harmony. You glanced at the man walking just a couple of feet beside you, his eyes, on the road ahead; his mind, somewhere you didn’t know; but his hands, his hands were in his pockets, and you wanted to reach inside his coat and take one.

It had been a dreamy night for the most part, but you could feel your heart shrinking a little with every step you took. Every passing street light signaled another lost chance at getting closure. And you still had lots of words awaiting in your tongue, lots of questions lingering on your lips, and your mouth was heavy with all the things that were yet to be said.

“Lord Wald seems to have problems with alcohol.” He spoke in his usual quiet voice, but there was a certain undertone propping up his words.

“Didn’t seem like that to me.” He looked at you, slight confusion painting his features and causing his head to tilt to one side. “They seemed to get along quite well.”

He chuckled. And you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.” His eyes were fixed in the cobblestones below his feet, and the underlying something from earlier was still there, but this time you were able to put a name to it: it sounded like remorse.

“It’s okay.” You gave him a reassuring smile, even though he wasn’t looking. “But I feel bad for his wife, and honestly for any woman who crosses paths with him when she’s not around.”

“I highly doubt her presence makes any difference when it comes to his behavior.”

You looked at your hands, they were holding each other as if seeking comfort. “So, you play with her often?” You felt his gaze on you but didn’t look back. “His daughter.”

“Met her once. Very impressive player. Cannot say she got it from her father though.” You faked a smile at the exact same moment a tide of regret washed over you, finally understanding what your mother meant when she said chess was an important life skill.

And speaking about your mother, you caught a whiff of a familiar and otherwise pleasant earthy scent and prayed you wouldn’t find her beloved climbing hydrangea, but when you looked up, it was there. And so was your front door.

“It’s here.” You took a deep breath and released the parting words you had been dreading to say. “Thank you for walking me home, commander.”

He took a step closer, reached for your hand and brought it to his lips, but this time, they parted slightly, taking your knuckles between them in a single, soft kiss. The warmth of his lips and the crisp autumn air blowing on wet skin created a delicious contradiction on your hand. His eyes were closed and his lips lingered, some would say for way longer than was required for a hand kiss. It was a sight deserving of a moan, so you gave him a silent one. One that created a playful tickle in your belly.

But maybe it wasn’t silent enough, because in that very moment he looked back at you. And, as you stared back into the deep blue, you realized those were the kind of eyes that could tell you a million things before his lips could even say a word. Tonight, they were telling you something as well, and although you didn’t know exactly what it was, you knew a few other things.

You knew why your skin tingled under his gaze, and burned under his touch. You knew why the sight of him lifted your heart to the sky while his absence made it sink into a bottomless pit. You knew why his scent reminded you of every secret place you hid in as a little girl, and his voice, of a happier future you wanted to escape to. You knew why the thought of another woman interested in him set your heart on fire, and the idea of him interested in her, crushed it into pieces. And you also knew why you had worn the dress.

You knew the blue of the silk would complement your skin just the same way the blue of his eyes did. You had decided to wear the dress just so you could feel what it was like to have his eyes all over your body. His eyes were not only allowed, but welcome and explicitly invited, to explore every inch of your skin, covered or not. He could stare as much as he wanted, for as long as he wanted, in all the places he wanted. But only him. Because you had worn the dress for him. However he was too much of a gentleman to do it, so you gave him permission.

“Do you like my dress?” You took a step closer, and noticed your hand was still in his.

His eyes drifted to your lips, where they lingered for a second, before following the path marked by your collarbones, down to your clothed breasts where they rested momentarily. Then, they paid a short visit to your hips before finally landing on your thigh, visible through the open coat. It was there where they seemed to feel most at home. And it was then, when you had his eyes on your bare skin, that you became aware of how soaked you were. You squeezed his fingers on instinct at the realization, which caused him to trace his steps back to your eyes.

“Very much.” His voice, almost a whisper; his lips, slightly parted. And you could see his breath, as well as the rising and falling of his chest. He was so close you wondered if he could see what you were thinking of, if he could see how much you wanted him to take the silky fabric off you.

In such proximity, his cologne was even more intoxicating. It was musky and clean, like a fresh bubble bath; sweet and gentle, just like him. You knew it was something you would always crave, even after tonight was long gone. And you wondered how many women had been in this intimate space before, and how many of them were craving his perfume right now.

The small of your back was still tingling from where he touched you earlier. And the rest of your body was demanding the same attention, so you took another step closer.

Goodness, he was so handsome. The kind of handsome that makes you want to know how his lips moved in a kiss, and how his hands followed the curves of your body. And the situation laid out before you provided the perfect opportunity.

The perfect opportunity to stop pretending your feelings were written in some foreign language you had never heard before. The perfect opportunity to call it what it was, once and for all.

“Commander.”

“Yes?” His eyes couldn’t decide between yours and your lips.

“There’s something I want to ask you.” Your voice had never sounded so feeble. “Would you- would you please-” He nodded encouragingly but his breath on your skin was too distracting, successfully causing the opposite effect. “I- I can’t tell you.”

“Then show me.”

His eyes were holding your gaze, and his lips, you could almost taste them.

You could also hear, however, shuffling on the other side of the door, and you looked up to find a light turned on in the second floor.

“If it’s my mother, she’ll ask you to come in. If it’s my father, he’ll force you to.” He let out a chuckle and you found yourself wishing you could make him laugh forever. “Would you like to come in?”

“It’s late. I don’t want to importune anyone.”

“Good choice. If you get my father started, he’ll talk about royal family conspiracy theories all night long.”

“Sounds interesting.”

You did your best to return his smile despite the emptiness you felt when letting go of his hand.

“See you tomorrow, commander. Good night.”

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee

143 notes · View notes