#this close to dropping all of my responsibilities and booking a one way flight to a random location

[i-want-to-be-spaghettified]

I miss Rome

So much

#specifically all of the left over monuments from Ancient Rome #and the magnificent museums #i miss museums #and y’know #Italian food #this close to dropping all of my responsibilities and booking a one way flight to a random location #this close 🤏 #Rome #italia

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II. "Just Had To Trust You."

"Trust" Series Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x WAC!Female Reader

The second half of August brings with it the horrors of the Regensburg/Schweinfurt mission, Bucky's absence in Africa, and two smaller missions in France. With this as the backdrop to your blossoming relationship, the pair of you find creative ways to connect with one another.

Warnings: Language, Alcohol Consumption, Death, Grief, Minor Bucky Injury, Blood, Scars, Minor Reader Injury, Hospital Setting, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [thigh riding, inexperienced reader, allusion to male masturbation] - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: Thank you all so much for the warm reception you gave part one. That combined with my evil brain has given us a full series! Just a reminder that reader has been given a brother for sake of plot. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 6713

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The day of August 17th dawned so thick with fog, it was difficult to tell it had even dawned at all. The walk from your quarters to the mess and then onto the control tower was fraught with anxiety – the fear that a vehicle might suddenly appear behind you through the milky atmosphere driving you to constantly glance back over your shoulder. Eventually, you decided to walk just alongside the road through the damp grass, listening to it squeak against the leather of your shoes, the only sound around you once you parted ways with your friends.

Cutting across the field in front of the equipment hangar, you gasped as Bucky stepped out of the mists in front of you like some kind of apparition from a ghost story. You gulped harshly at the way your stomach dropped in response to that mental imagery.

“Morning, doll. Seems like someone left the soup on the stove a little too long.”

You managed a chuckle, taking in his flight suit, his life jacket – or Mae West as the boys called them. He was flying today then. “I’m sure it’ll clear up soon, Major Egan.”

His lips twitched fondly, and he stepped closer to murmur in your ear, the fine hairs of his moustache tickling the delicate skin there. “See you in a few days, doll.”

“Take care, Bucky.” You whispered emphatically in return, and he stepped back to reach into his flight bag, producing the book you had lent him.

“I’ll have that answer for you promptly on my return, Lieutenant.”

You grinned softly. “I expect you will, Major.”

You turned to watch him go as he took long, easy strides to join his crew waiting on the truck to be driven out to their plane, disappearing in a swirl of persistent, pervasive fog. “I’ll see you soon.” You murmured after him.

Seven days.

Seven agonizing days of little news and empty skies passed as you impatiently awaited his return. The decision to send the group destined for Regensburg nearly five hours ahead of those bound for Schweinfurt had been catastrophic. It took almost seventy-two hours for the 12th to reach those who had made it to Telergma, and when numbers and names finally made their way back to Thorpe Abbotts, the cost of it all sunk in like a stone.

Rather than wasting the return trip to East Anglia, it was decided the survivors would undertake a retaliatory strike against some Luftwaffe bases in Bordeaux, one more hurdle to clear before they made it back to safety. It was mid-afternoon on August 24th by the time the droning of plane engines filled the air once again. Taking a steadying breath, you grit your teeth and forced yourself to focus on the keys of your typewriter as the brass all hustled outside to count the number of returnees.

‘Please let Bucky be among them. Please let him be unharmed.’ You had closed your eyes briefly to send up your silent prayer before launching back into your work.

It was nearly an hour later when, report finished, you tucked the neatly typed sheets of paper into their folder to deliver to Colonel Harding and stood only to meet the eyes of one Major John Egan through the window overlooking the Operations Room. He looked weary, sunburnt, with cuts and abrasions adorning his face and neck, unsteady on his feet, but nevertheless flashed you a brilliant, devil-may-care smile.

‘Thank you…thank you for bringing him back to me.’

You exhaled deeply for the first time in over a week, the folder nearly slipping from your fingers, contents nearly scattering across the floor. Mercifully, you managed to avoid that outcome, albeit with a fair bit of fumbling, tucking it securely against your side to prevent further mishaps. The next time you looked to Bucky he was smirking at you, eyes twinkling knowingly, before he gestured with his head toward where the washrooms were. Glancing at your colleagues, heads bent diligently over their work, you looked back to him and raised a finger to beg for one moment.

He nodded in silent understanding, sauntering toward the hallway casually. You took a moment before letting your desk mate know you were delivering a file and then taking a bathroom break. She nodded vaguely as you headed across the room to place the folder in the outbox before making your way to the washrooms. Furrowing your brows in confusion as you found the corridor empty, you barely managed to smother your startled cry as Bucky poked his head out of the janitor’s closet and pulled you into the cramped space with him.

“Bucky!” You hissed as he pressed you back against the door, his lips pressing tightly against yours, silencing any further admonishment you might have been able to summon.

Clinging the to straps of his harness, you rocked up onto the balls of your feet, pressing flush against him, a wordless expression of the gratitude you felt for his safe return. He had barely parted his lips when you mirrored the movement, welcoming his tongue with your own. A soft grunt of pleasure left his nose, his fingers digging into your hips tightly. The telltale tinge of copper seeped into the kiss, making you pull back sharply, groping for the pull string on the lightbulb dangling from the ceiling behind him.

You frowned deeply to see his lower lip was oozing blood. “You should go to the hospital, Bucky, you’re still bleeding…”

“M’fine.” He rumbled tiredly, cupping the back of your head gently as his thumb traced your left eyebrow.

You sighed softly, leaning into his touch as your eyes slid closed.

“My definitive answer is Blood Pressure.” He spoke in a hushed tone and your eyes fluttered open in confusion.

“What?”

His other hand left your hip to dig into the pocket of his flight jacket, producing the borrowed book, holding it out to you with a satisfied grin.

“You’ve already read the whole thing again?!” You gasped, eyes wide.

“Couldn’t very well keep you waiting now, could I?” He smirked and stole another kiss.

“I’m going back to my desk and you’re going to the hospital, please?” You looked to him pleadingly.

He sighed heavily. “That look is utterly unfair, doll…particularly in my condition.”

Your lips twitched slightly as you fought the urge to smile, doing your utmost to hold the plaintive expression until he huffed and pressed one last, copper-laced, sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Fine.” He conceded and you pressed your lips to his forehead tenderly.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

Slipping from his arms reluctantly, you peered out into the hallway before making a dash into the washroom, cleaning your face of his blood and tidying your hair and uniform before rushing back to your desk, hoping he would hold up his end of the bargain.

Judging from how well he healed over the next few days, you were fairly convinced he had done as you asked. His lips had healed to their normal supple perfection, though it seemed he would be left with a few scars across his nose, cheek, and forehead. Unfortunately, you had not been able to sneak a moment to confirm if he had indeed gone to visit the hospital or not. When your duties did not occupy you, it seemed that his did and vice versa. Passing glances or encounters while surrounded by colleagues seemed to be all the fates afforded you the rest of the week.

The effect it had on your mood was something that did not escape Mary, Vi, and Ruth – for despite your best efforts to conceal your activities, they had been onto you since you had returned from that eventful trip to the pub.

“We’ll just have to make sure you’re simply irresistible at tonight’s dance, then.” Mary grinned darkly upon your return to your shared quarters that Friday, a dangerous gleam in her eye as she closed in on you with Vi at her elbow.

“Oh yes, Mary, a little feminine revenge ought to remind the Major of his priorities.” She drawled, arms suddenly loaded with supplies – from where they had appeared, you were not entirely sure.

You landed heavily on your bottom upon your cot, staring up at them warily as Ruth laughed from her perch across the way.

“Just give in, darling, it’ll be less painful that way.” Came her friendly advice, though her words did not prove at all true.

There was next to no consideration for your comfort while your hair was combed and restyled, hisses of pain escaping your lips as a plethora of pins scraped along your scalp as they were pushed into place to secure the style they were creating.

“Beauty is pain, darling.” Vi pursed her lips in mock sympathy, but you were altogether relieved when they declared their creation stable and moved onto your makeup.

Somehow, despite their dedication to perfecting your look for the evening, and then freshening up a little themselves, the four of you still managed to arrive at the officer’s club before Bucky and many of the men. Securing a martini and your favorite spot along the wall, you forcefully shooed them off to dance with the early arrivals who quickly approached them. You glass was roughly a third empty when Bucky arrived with his best friend Buck and their tight knit group. All eyes turned toward him, as always, that infectious grin and magnetism making him ever popular.

Now that he had arrived, the party would truly begin. Taking a deep sip of your drink, you nearly choked as his eyes met yours and he made a beeline straight for you. Swallowing roughly, your eyes widened as he plucked the glass from your grasp to set it on a nearby table before holding out his hand to you expectantly.

“I’m not very good at this…” You warned him softly, voice a bit thick from your battle to swallow your drink.

“All you gotta do is hold on, doll, I’ll do the rest.” He winked and wrapped his fingers around yours once you finally set your hand in his.

Leading you onto the dancefloor, he pulled you close, one hand at your waist, the other holding yours out to the side. Bucky grinned at you warmly as he began to lead you across the floor confidently, and you clung to his shoulder, feeling the eyes of almost everyone on you. His actions were so public in contrast to the moments you had shared previously. So very declarative. It took a lot of strength not to hide against his shoulder from all the attention the pair of you were receiving. Even your friends were shooting you grins and nods and little victory signals from behind him.

“You got all dolled up tonight, is there a mission I should know about?” He teased gently, immediately pulling you from your thoughts.

“I was ambushed.” You huffed ruefully.

“Ah, so this mission has already been carried out.” Bucky smirked, lips stretching wider as you laughed softly, relaxing somewhat in his arms as he continued to lead you confidently. “You look gorgeous…can’t wait to get that lipstick all over my face again.” He hummed against your ear, and you smacked his shoulder playfully even as your pulse jumped at your throat, feeling his laughter shake through him.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long, Kidd thought it was the perfect moment to launch into an excruciating meeting about…well I wasn’t listening, quite honestly.” He smirked, making you shake your head fondly.

“You ought to listen to the man, he is your Air Exec you know…” You teased gently.

He hummed thoughtfully before shaking his head. “I was too busy thinking about how I’d rather be doing this, right here, right now, with you.”

You met his eyes briefly, startled by the transparency of his statement, before glancing away, teeth buried in your lip in a vain attempt to moderate your rapid heartbeat.

Bucky kept you on the dancefloor for at least five more songs, until your feet started to hurt, your legs getting heavy. “Let’s get you another drink.” He kissed your temple and slid his arm around your waist, leading you to the bar. He ordered a whisky for himself and another martini for you, finding a table in the corner and sitting in the chair right beside you. “For someone who claimed to be not very good at dancing, you held your own, doll.”

You smiled at him shyly. “Just had to trust you.” His resulting grin made you bow your head in response to its brilliance, shivering as his hand squeezed your knee beneath the shelter of the tablecloth.

Taking a steadying sip of your drink, you glanced at him through your lashes, biting your lip at his eyes had never left you, his fingers tightening where they still rested over your skirt. You glanced to the side, suddenly afraid you might forget how to breathe under the intensity of his gaze, sucking in a somewhat ragged breath as you watched another couple canoodling in the opposite corner of the room. There was nothing subtle about the way they were pressed against one another, despite the very public place in which they found themselves, and you averted your gaze yet again to watch the bartender mixing drinks as you sipped yours steadily.

The resulting loosening of your muscles as the alcohol reached your extremities gave you the courage to look in Bucky’s direction once more, taking in his profile as he eyed the dancefloor, toe tapping to the beat. His arm was slung over the back of your chair, an action you had no memory of, and he was slouched low in his seat, legs spread wide. His posture was altogether too inviting, and had you gnawing on your lip once more, yet unable to tear your eyes away despite the alarm bells ringing inside your head.

“See something you like, doll?” Bucky’s voice in your ear made you jump. Made you wonder when he had closed the distance.

You hoped, briefly, that the Luftwaffe might indulge you by dropping a bomb directly on your head right then. No such luck. Bucky’s hand slid higher on your leg to squeeze your thigh, forcing you to raise your gaze to meet his. His normally stormy blue eyes were notably darker, pinning you to the spot as his tongue darted out to wet his slightly parted lips.

“Come on.” He spoke suddenly, sliding to his feet and holding out his hand again.

Following him back to the dancefloor, you gasped audibly as he pulled you improperly close, his hand splaying against your lower back as his cheek pressed against yours. “After this song, meet me at our bench. I’ll be five minutes behind you.” His lips brushed against your skin as he spoke, making your feet clumsy.

Bucky simply pulled you closer in response, bearing more of your weight to keep you dancing smoothly as you somehow managed a nod in agreement, heart hammering in your ears. There was no mission tomorrow, the control tower would be relatively quiet, and therefore so would the bench outback where you had shared your conversation about Runyon’s book. As the band wound down their tune, Bucky shuffled the pair of you to the edge of the floor, kissing your cheek softly.

“Goodnight, doll.”

You exhaled shakily, nodding as you mentally reached down to the bottom of your toes to summon your voice. “Night, Bucky.”

He gave you a crooked smile and one more kiss on the cheek before releasing you gently, watching patiently as you lurched into motion, heading toward the door and out into the relatively cooler night air. Making your way along the road, you swallowed back a curse as your eyes met those of your Captain who was standing watch over the route to the women’s quarters.

“Evening, Ma’am.” You saluted quickly.

“Lieutenant.” Captain Miller nodded crisply watching you continue on before you cut around behind the barracks and circled back toward the control tower to meet Bucky.

Due to the necessitated detour, he was already there, waiting, hands on his hips, shoulders slightly raised with tension. You frowned guiltily and crept up to gently set a hand on his arm, feeling him jump.

“Sorry, I had to appease the dragon-lady, she saw me leave and I–”

He nodded once before kissing you fiercely, making you sigh heavily against his lips. Sliding your arms around his neck, you allowed your fingertips to brush against the curls at the nape of his neck. His chest rumbled happily, his tongue tasting so sharply of whisky as it slid along yours that you wondered if he had taken those five extra minutes to have one more drink before following you.

“Thought you’d changed your mind, doll.” He grinned against your lips before he began to nibble along your jaw, sending ripples of gooseflesh down your neck.

“Uh-uh.” You breathed, gripping the skin of his neck as your knees felt about ready to give out.

“Just hold on tight.” He tilted his head to suck at your earlobe, gripping your hips as he slowly sank down to sit on the bench behind him, pulling you with him.

His hands slid further down your legs, guiding them apart to straddle his thigh, pushing your skirt higher to allow you to settle snuggly against his broad quadricep. Your jaw dropped open as your core pressed tightly against him, a mortifying squeak-like sound escaping your throat.

“Yeah?” He smirked, kissing back towards your lips. “Figured by the way you were staring you might want to give it a whirl.”

If you had been able to speak, his mouth would have swallowed any reply that you could have summoned as it sealed tightly over yours once more. As it was, you brain was filled with static like a wireless that could not quite be tuned to a frequency. Your predicament only worsened as his fingers curled into your hips, ever so slowly rocking them forward against him, making you whimper raggedly. The sensation was only outdone by the feeling of him dragging you backward, the friction causing an unspeakable reaction to roll through your body.

“That feel good, doll?” Bucky rasped against your lips, and you nodded rapidly, mewling as he repeated the motion, though you also began to move of your own volition, chasing the feeling needily. “Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.” He teased and you tugged at the hair peaking out the back of his cap.

“Yes!” You gasped sharply before kissing him hungrily, your leg accidentally brushing against the bulge at the apex of his thighs, shuddering at the groan you earned from him in kind.

Perhaps it made you a wicked woman to take satisfaction in giving him pleasure, but it went to your head faster than any martini you had ever consumed. Digging the toes of your shoes into the grass, you shuffled closer to him so your thigh might brush against his length with each of your self-serving motions.

“Christ, doll.” He growled under his breath.

“Feel…good?” You panted teasingly, biting your lip at his ragged laugh.

“People underestimate you at their own goddamn peril.” He nipped at your chin, breath fanning hotly down your neck as you worked your body against his thigh with increasing need. “Try…this…” He grunted and tilted your pelvis forward.

You slumped forward against his chest, mouth gaping in a silent moan at the intense pleasure radiating from the new point of pressure. Legs nearly giving out from the blinding power of it, you were immensely grateful when Bucky obligingly kept on guiding your hips, continuing to pull the strings of tension tighter and tighter within your body.

“B…Bucky…” You gasped against his neck as your thighs began to tremble, on the precipice of something, wondering if this is what it felt like just before a B17 lifted off the runway.

“Go on, doll, it’s gonna be great.” He rumbled, pace not slackening, though his arms must have surely been aching by that point.

Inhaling sharply, you pressed your face tighter to his neck, desperately trying to smother your cry of pleasure as every string of tension snapped inside you with the force and brilliance of a fireworks display on the fourth of July. Melting against him, you were naught but a shuddering mess, underwear ruined, struggling to satisfy your body’s demand for oxygen as you gasped for breath. Bucky’s grip eased on your hips, his hands shifting to caress your back tenderly as he kissed down your temple to your cheek.

“As promised?” He cooed and you shivered at the feeling of his breath against your skin, every sensation still heightened.

“Better.” You licked your lips and dropped your hands to his chest, slowly pushing yourself up to sit properly, shuddering at the pressure against your still throbbing parts.

“Here, doll.” He carefully lifted you up to swing your legs across his lap carefully. “Take it easy.” He kissed your cheek tenderly, squeezing your side.

You sighed softly, swallowing thickly as you lifted your eyes to his. “People underestimate your sweetness at a great loss to themselves, Bucky.” Cupping his cheek, you guided his mouth to yours to place a gentle, appreciative kiss on his lips.

Feeling the curl of his smile, you could not help but echo the expression, breaking the seal of your mouth against his.

“Our little secret.” He teased, voice still raspy.

Hearing the crunch of footsteps on the gravel path leading up to the control tower, you tensed against him, frowning as you became acutely aware of the persistent problem that remained in his trousers.

“We should go.” He whispered and you nodded quickly.

“Sorry you’re still…” You trailed off, sliding onto oddly unstable legs, grateful for his bracing hands on your hips as he rose to his feet.

“Don’t worry about me, doll, I can take care of myself.” He pressed his lips to your ear after uttering his quiet statement, making you swallow almost painfully as your mouth went dry.

You lost all ability to function for a moment, swept up in the lurid possibilities contained in that simple phrase, before the sound of a door opening cut through the night, and your stupor.

“Night.” You whispered sharply before sprinting off towards the barracks, keeping to the edges of the field and hoping to stay out of sight.

Luck, it seemed, was not on your side, as Captain Miller called your name just a few feet shy of your quarters. You had been so very close. Turning quickly to face her, you scrambled for some excuse as to why you were not on the other side of the door behind you.

“Lieutenant, did you get lost on your way over here?” She arched an eyebrow coldly and you had to remind yourself the mechanics involved in a proper breath.

‘Inhale. Pause. Exhale.’

“No, Ma’am, I just…realized when I got back here that Vi had asked me to be sure she didn’t stay out too late, and that I had left without her.”

Captain Miller’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “And where is your Georgian, troublemaking friend now, hmm?”

The lie had come so naturally, had been so plausible, but now that you were wrapped up in it, it felt like it might just drag you down to the bottom like an anchor.

“I’m here, Captain Miller, Ma’am.” Came a cheery call from further up the path, you friend still cloaked by darkness but by some miracle, arriving just in time to save your hide.

An exhale of annoyance escaped Captain Miller’s nostrils as she whipped back to see Vi, arm linked with Ruth’s, sauntering over to your shared quarters.

“Thank you again, darling, for reminding me to come back on time.” She gave you a tremendous, edging on comical, wink and it was all you could do not to grimace.

You may have been off the hook with Captain Miller, but Vi would surely exact a price for this rescue.

“To bed with you all, then, ladies.” Your Captain grunted and the three of you delivered a set of sharp salutes before ducking into your hut quickly.

“All the gory details, now, darling, or Captain Miller will learn just what you’ve been up to, and I’m certain it’s far from innocent.” Vi grinned wickedly as she dragged you to sit on her cot between herself and Ruth.

You were reticent to share the gory details, wanting to keep the taste of him on your lips, the way it felt to be pressed again him, as just yours. But there was a part of you that revelled in the telling of the simplified, polished version of your encounter on the bench behind the control tower the pair of you called ‘yours.’ And it certainly seemed to satisfy your debt, both Ruth and Vi grinning, crowing in glee by the time you got to Vi’s rescue.

“Our darling dark horse, unexpected champion at taming the rogue Major Egan.”

You scoffed and shook your head shyly. “I doubt that I’ve tamed him, Vi…” You protested but she just smirked with a tilt of her head.

“I’m willing to bet money on that fact, but I suppose time will tell.” She winked dramatically and you just rolled your eyes.

Within four days, Bucky was on his way back to France. The target was an aircraft factory in Rouen near Paris. Of those chosen, you undoubtedly preferred the targets closer to England. The flying time was shorter and thereby so was the period of wondering and waiting. Strategically, you absolutely understood the importance of the targets deep in Germany, but if the Regensburg raid had carried any lessons, it was that those targets were invariably the costliest.

Hoping to catch a glimpse of him before he went up, you retraced your steps, following the same path you had on the morning of the seventeenth, cutting in front of the equipment hangar. The feeling of a leather-clad hand seizing yours and tugging you behind the building had you gasping in surprise before you laid eyes on your target, grinning slightly at your success.

“Morning, doll.” Bucky murmured and kissed you quickly.

You allowed his lips to linger on yours for several seconds before pulling back quickly to glance around, checking if you had been spotted. “Be safe up there, Bucky.” You swallowed and he nodded.

“Think you could wear that lipstick again for me later? It sure looked nice all over my neck.” He smirked broadly as your jaw dropped in response, lifting a hand to smack his shoulder.

“Don’t push your luck.” You chided, wagging a finger playfully, and he laughed brightly in reply, lips meeting your cheek before he strolled over to the waiting crew truck.

You watched him go from your obscured vantage point, waiting until the vehicle had pulled away before you turned to continue on your way to your desk.

“Lieutenant?”

You jumped and turned to see the post clerk, Petty, hurrying towards you with a letter in his hand.

“Letter for you, Ma’am.”

“Thank you very much, Sergeant.” You smiled. “Did you manage to get the boys first?” You asked curiously, and he nodded so quickly you were worried his head might fall right off his shoulders.

“Yes Ma’am, got ‘em at breakfast.” His boyish grin of pride was infectious, tugging at the corners of your mouth, briefly easing the tension that seeped into your bones on mission days.

“Well done, Sergeant. Have a good day!” You returned the quick salute he gave you before he hurried on his way, heavy bag hefted over his shoulder.

Glancing over the envelope you swallowed as it appeared to be written in your father’s handwriting rather than your mother’s – unusual. She was often the one to manage the letter writing and mailing process and he would add a paragraph or two depending on what was happening back home that he thought would be of interest to you. Swallowing down your sense of unease, you slid the envelope into your pocket to focus on the mission. The letter had already taken several weeks to reach you, a few more hours would not make any difference.

Shortly after noon, they were already back; Colonel Harding walking past the office muttering about Major Egan’s displeasure in the weather. It seemed only one plane had been able to drop their bombs, and not even on the primary target. Exhaling deeply to hear confirmation of his return, the ever-present feeling of the envelope in your pocket suddenly took on an immense weight. Claiming an upset stomach, which only garnered a knowing grin from your desk mate, you excused yourself to step out back, wandering to the edge of the field to tear into the flap with somewhat savage impatience. Heart in your throat, your shaking fingers pulled the folded paper from within its confines and your eyes began scanning across the page rapidly, your sense of unease cresting like a tidal wave.

I need you to be very brave for me now, dear girl…

Your father’s words blurred in front of your eyes behind a sudden influx of tears. You did not even need to read the rest of the sentence to know. Perhaps you had known all morning – since Petty had set the envelope in your hand. Your brother was gone. Most likely had been for weeks, for all the time it had taken the news to reach you, across one ocean and then another. An agonized sob clawed its way up your throat, and you quickly pressed a hand over your mouth to smother it, taking off running towards your quarters, trying desperately to keep your grief at bay until you could be alone.

Eyes barely open, running across rough ground, it was no surprise when your foot snagged on some unseen obstacle, wrenching your right ankle and sending your sprawling across the grass and partially onto a pathway. Your right knee dashed against something sharp, your hands flying forward to catch your body, the letter you had been clasping fluttering to the ground beside you. The gravel bit angrily against your palms as it chewed its way into your tender flesh, and you could feel the warm trickle of blood soaking into your ruined right stocking. The shock and pain of your collision with the earth overthrew your ability to control your emotions and a strangled sob of anguish, frustration, and loss flew from your lips.

“God…dammit…” You gasped out, suddenly furious with the universe at large.

You had never known a world without your brother. His existence was a constant you had apparently come to rely on, and now that he had been wrenched from this plane, you were not certain what you could believe in at all. Allowing just a few tears to escape began an unstoppable chain reaction, your shoulders shaking as you remained sprawled across the ground, clenching fistfuls of gravel as you gave into your grief. It was utterly self-indulgent. You were not the first woman to have lost a brother to this ugly war, but he was yours and he was gone.

‘Get. Up.’ The lone, rational part of your brain chided. ‘Your father needs you to be brave. You’re making a goddamn scene. Get. Up. You petulant child. What if someone sees you.’

Like some kind of prophecy, you heard the quizzical call of your name. You could only hope the owner of that voice was still far enough away for you to make your escape. Sniffling sharply, almost painfully, to try and stem the flow of tears, you tried desperately to struggle to your feet. Your knee throbbed in protest, your ankle wobbling unsteadily, your palms stung in pain, and all you managed was to roll onto your backside.

A pair of strong, familiar arms slid around your waist, pulling you back into a warm chest, the fleece of his collar brushing against your damp cheeks.

“I’ve got you doll.” Bucky murmured into your hair, and you shuddered, fighting back the urge to simply break down sobbing once more.

Holding out your hands awkwardly in front of you, trying to minimize the transfer of blood onto your respective uniforms, you leaned back into his warmth despite the fact that it was a sunny August day.

“Let’s get you to the doctor.” His voice was tense, wound tight with concern, and absent his usually playfulness as he slowly eased you to your feet.

“I’m fine.” You tried to protest, but an inadvertent whimper escaped your mouth as you tried to bear weight on your right leg.

“The hell you are.” He growled a little, pulling your arm over his shoulders, sliding his own arm around your waist, practically hefting you against his body.

As he turned to begin walking you down the path, you gasped to see your abandoned letter tumbling through the grass on the breeze.

“My letter!”

“I got it.” He grunted and set you down, fetching it quickly and shoving it in his pocket before lifting you up against him once more, helping you towards the hospital.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, keeping your gaze on the ground as you hobbled along beside him, not wanting to meet the eyes of anyone you may have passed along the way.

“Got nothing to apologize for, doll.” He shook his head, assisting you through the doors and into the building that smelled sharply of disinfectant.

“What about the blood on your clothes?” You protested.

“Probably mine.”

You looked to him quickly, frowning at the mirthless smile he delivered – an empty attempt at his usual humor. You noted he did seem to be in one piece, thankfully.

“What on earth…” Gasped the nurse on duty at the front desk as she hurried forward to slide your other arm over her shoulders, leading the pair of you to a bed in triage where she quickly began to remove your ruined stocking and deal with your still-bleeding knee. “This is probably going to need stitches, Lieutenant.”

You nodded silently, frowning down at her as she began to pluck the debris from your hands.

“What’s happened, Lieutenant?” A new voice joined the conversation, and you looked up to see one of the doctors, denoted by his white coat, had come to stand beside the nurse while Bucky loomed in the background, arms crossed, brow furrowed as he watched on intensely.

“Got some bad news, sir.” You replied, seizing the inside of your cheek between your teeth to deliver a sharp, steadying bite to your flesh as your lower lip wobbled traitorously. “It made me clumsy, and I tripped.”

You watched Bucky’s face somber even further than it already was, his arms unfolding to fall at his sides, though his fists remained clenched. You looked away quickly as you were certain he had been able to do the math. To figure out just what terrible news had driven you to your current state and you could not endure his look of sympathy – not and remain collected.

“We’ll take good care of her, Major.” The doctor said in a kind yet obvious dismissal and there was a moment of silence before you heard Bucky approach the side of your bed, pressing his lips to your temple.

“I’m going to let that terrifying Captain of yours know that you won’t be working the rest of the day.” He spoke softly, for only you to hear, and your head whipped to look at him, startled that he would dare take on Captain Miller.

Your eyes fell on the lingering marks on his cheek and nose from the Regensburg raid, wanting to protest, but on finding you simply did not have the energy to fight him, you conceded with a nod. By the time he returned, no more than thirty minutes later, you were cleaned, stitched, and bandaged with a tensor wrap on your ankle and a set of crutches.

“You need to keep off that ankle as much as possible, Lieutenant.” Doctor McLean, it turned out his name was, instructed.

“Yes, sir.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem, Doc, I’ll make sure she gets where she needs to go.” Bucky chimed in and you looked to him, surprised he had returned so quickly.

“Thank you Major, with that in mind, you are free to go young lady. Keep to the pathways moving forward, please?”

“Yes, sir.” You repeated and used the crutches to rise to your feet, tucking them into your armpits to make slow progress toward the door.

Bucky followed along, patiently, removing any obstacles from your path before gesturing at the waiting jeep out front.

“Your chariot, doll.”

You looked to him skeptically. “I highly doubt this would be considered an appropriate use of army property, Major Egan.”

He shrugged. “No one else was using it, come on.” He guided you around to the passenger’s side, helping you onto the bench seat before taking your crutches to stash in the back. “You really, ok?” He asked quietly as he came to sit in the driver’s seat.

Nodding softly, you squeezed his hand as his fingers laced briefly with yours until he was forced to take it back to drive the vehicle. The trip to your quarters was markedly shorter thanks to the jeep, and you were unspeakably relieved to not have had to face it on crutches alone. Turning to thank Bucky, you blinked as he was already climbing out, bringing your crutches around.

“If you get caught in this area…”

“I’m assisting you to your quarters after an injury.” He insisted stubbornly and held them out to you.

You glanced around slowly before taking them, sliding to your feet carefully before making your way inside, once again grateful for his assistance as you hobbled over to your cot and sat heavily.

“Thank you, Bucky, you’ve been a really big help, but if you’re caught in here someone is going to murder you…”

He came to rest on his knees beside your bed, clearly choosing not to hear, or simply not caring about, your continued warnings. You pressed your lips together tightly, tucking them between your teeth as he produced your father’s letter from his pocket, setting it on the blanket beside you.

“I’m real sorry about your brother, doll.” He said quietly, forehead creased with unmasked sympathy. Your defences promptly crumbled, tears welling in your eyes and promptly spilling down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, shhh.” He shifted to quickly sit beside you, cradling you across his lap, holding you close as you turned your face to sob into his chest, fingers twisting into the fleece lining of his jacket where it hung open.

You lost all track of time in his arms, feeling safe enough to simply let your emotions run their course, have their way with you, in the privacy of your quarters. Thus, it was a surprise when you heard the gently clearing of Mary’s throat, lifting your head quickly to see her holding out one of her immaculate hankies while politely keeping her gaze on the rustic ceiling above.

“I have it on good authority that Captain Miller will be checking in on our darling Lieutenant shortly, so you may want to make yourself scarce, Major.” Her tone was warm and conspiratorial.

“Thank you, Mary.” Bucky spoke for the first time in a while, voice somewhat roughened by disuse. “I’ll see you for your ride to breakfast, doll.”

“Bucky, that’s really not necessary–”

“She usually eats at 0545.” Mary cut you off, clearly allying herself with him and against you. “Now I’ll take it from here.”

You huffed affectionately as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “You rest.”

“You, too.” You insisted stubbornly, feeling somewhat encouraged when he bestowed a smirk on you in response, sliding you from his lap onto the cot carefully and making his way out to remove himself and the jeep before your Captain could find him where he ought not to be.

“What was that you were saying to Vi and Ruth about not having tamed him?” Mary smirked, grabbing the hanky to begin dabbing at your cheeks with motherly roughness.

-------------------------

Read Part Three - "Trust Me, He's In Good Hands."

"Trust" Series Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @precious-little-scoundrel, @rubyfruitjungle, @storysimp

#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #john egan fic #john egan imagine #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction

[ramshacklefey]

No but serious. Dungeons & Dragons is one of the least flexible systems out there. So whenever I hear someone asking, "Why can't I do X in DnD?" or "How would I do (thing that the system is totally ill-suited for)?" my first response is just "GURPS."

For those of you who aren't familiar, GURPS stands for "Generic Universal Role Playing System." I always say it's like the Linux of ttrpgs, in the sense that it's less a system and more a framework that you can use to do whatever you want with.

And I really do mean whatever you want. You want high fantasy? Done. You want gritty realism in a dystopian world? Got it. You want superheroes? Good to go. Super tech space opera? Oh boy we got you there. You want magic systems that aren't based on spell lists? Go for it. Horror games where character death is a constant and very real threat? Sure thing.

You can set up your game to be anything from a complex data driven grinder to a cinematic rules basically optional flight of fancy.

You can play characters who are anywhere from realistically squishy humans to god-like super beings.

Characters personal flaws and strengths can have a direct impact on mechanics. Character species can have a direct and serious impact on mechanics.

The existence of so many options can make GURPS seem overwhelming at first glance, but if you are willing to put in a bit of effort, it's actually a very simple system to play. Most of the hard work is front-loaded into setting and character creation. Once play starts it runs as smooth as can be.

It's totally possible to play it with just the two core books, BUT there are dozens of books that are nothing but tips and advice for how to build a particular type of world or a particular flavor of campaign.

And the books, while not nearly as pretty as DnD books, are laid out in a way that makes it incredibly easy to find exactly the information you want.

Some more mechanical things that I particularly like about it (under the cut):

Characters are created on a point-buy system, but you don't just buy your basic stats, you also buy your skills, advantages, and secondary stats. And you can gain points back by dropping stats below average or taking disadvantages.

The advantage/disadvantage system. This is sorta the core of the character building, and it is *so* much fun. See, rather than pick out a class or species, you have a list (selected by your GM from a much larger list) of things you can buy that will have mechanical impacts on you in the game. Basically, an advantage is anything that opens up more possibilities for you in-game, and a disadvantage is anything that closes off possibilities. They can be superpowers, species traits, cinematic plot armor, personality traits, or things like chronic illness, bad temper, physical or mental disabilities, or being doomed by the narrative.

Simple dice system. To play a GURPS campaign you need three d6. That's it. All checks and saves are done by rolling 3d6 (low rolls are better than high). This has an additional advantage over the d20 system in that there is a probability curve. You're more likely to roll numbers in the mid-range, which makes both critical successes and critical failures rarer, and therefore more satisfying.

Your target roll is adjusted, rather than adding/subtracting from the roll itself. Say you're trying to, idk, hack a computer. Your skill level doesn't affect your dice roll, it affects the number you need to roll in order to succeed. This makes things a lot simpler on the player's end, imo, because there's less they need to keep track of. (You're trying to roll under the skill check, so whatever the base difficulty is, the GM just adds or subtracts your skill level from that).

The basic stats are on a much tighter scale, and they make a lot more sense. Human average is a 10 in everything. When you make your character you can buy higher stats or take lower ones and get more points to spend on other things. All stats cap out at 18, because that's the highest number you can roll. At a 10 strength you are a normal person. At 18 you're basically Superman. You'd have to roll a critical failure not to succeed in a strength check, and remember: critical failures are far less common than in a d20 system.

I could keep going ad infitum here, but instead I'll just close with:

Come with me boy, play my games! We'll have cowboy times in space!

#gurps #ttrpg #i will shill for this game at every opportunity

[tinygreybearpaws-blog]

Smarter Than He Realized

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 Spencer has been trying to his his crush on the new girl on the team, but after a seemingly innocent interaction he’s caught by a fellow profiler.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Fluff)

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 none!

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 896

♡♡♡

“Y/n, how do you have the patience to do those?” Morgan asks.

We’re sitting on the jet headed back to Quantico. We all have little routines on the way home: Rossi always takes a nap (doesn’t matter the time of day), JJ makes her calls to her family, Hotch calls Jack and then finds a file to read, Blake normally plans for her next lecture, I read a book or two (depending on how long the flight is), y/n works in her Sudoku book, and Morgan interrupts everyone else’s routine (unless he’s sleeping).

I glance over towards y/n, but only for a second. In such a close proximity to profileres it’s been really difficult concealing my crush on her, but I’ve been successful for the past few months. I always time my glances at her, taking in account who is around and how much they are observing.

She normally has a new Sudoku book every two weeks, but she’s still working on the same one. I noticed the cover didn’t say ‘extreme’ like it normally does.

“Leave her alone,” Hotch protects her.

She’s been on the team for half a year now and the most I’ve ever heard her speak is when we’re working a case. No one knows anything about her that you can’t read from her file and even though it’s an unspoken rule that we don’t profile each other, we couldn’t profile her even if we wanted. And I want to, I really do.

I’ve read her file a dozen times trying to read into her background, but even on paper she’s evasive. The only thing in her file are her previous addresses, where she attended school, and her scores for the FBI entrance exams (which were way above average).

She’s beautiful, but that’s obvious, at least to me. It’s her hair that entrances me most: her hair is almost always in a braid in some way, a different series of knots day to day.

But I didn’t truly notice her until three months ago. Most of the team was out working on preparing witnesses, leaving her and I the only members of the BAU in the bullpen. I went to get some coffee and the door was opened slightly so I could hear the conversation: one of the FBI clerical workers was speaking to her.

I didn’t recognize her voice as her own at first because she was angry.

“You don’t even know him,” was the first line of the tense conversation I heard.

“I’m just saying, how does anyone take him seriously? He wears sweater vests, for god’s sake. He looks like a thirty year old virgin!” the male worker had said. My stomach dropped realizing he was gossiping about me. But the sinking feeling was soon replaced with y/n’s next response.

“Spencer has the greatest mind in the FBI and we’re lucky to have him on our team. Plus, I think his sweater vests suit him, he fills them out just fine.”

“I wasn’t trying to make you mad, it was just a comment,” the man retreats.

“Spencer would take a bullet for anyone on our team, probably for anyone in this whole building, including you. So I suggest you keep your comments to yourself,” she ends the conversation before opening the door fully and turning around.

She made eye contact with me, realizing I had to have heard at least part of the conversation. I nodded and she nodded too. She handed me the coffee in her hands and touched my shoulder before finding her desk.

The case we just finished was a tough one emotionally, but we were able to catch the sexual sadist. During however, I had to explain the names and purpose of too many sexual abuse objects. I’ve never seen y/n so uncomfortable.

Hotch was right in telling Morgan to leave her alone, she needed time to process.

“Hey Reid,” she says quietly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice cracking. I thought I would grow out of these voice breaks, but it seems to be a part of who I am now.

“Can you help me with a few of these?” she asks, holding up her book.

I nod and cross the aisle so I’m sitting beside her. She smells like sugared cranberries.

“I only want one number for each of these five puzzles. I’ve been trying to get these for way too long and they don’t have an answer sheet in the back,” she tells me.

She’s never spoken a complete sentence to me outside of a case.

I glance at the first one and find myself stumped too. Frustrated, I grab the book from her hands and look closer.

“Oh,” she realizes. She grabs the book from my hands, and I can feel how soft they are in the short exchange. “There’s an error in the print,” she mumbles. 

She scribbles out the printed numbers and rewrites them in the box to their right.

This is what she adds to the team and why my crush on her grows each day: she’s intelligent and sees things we don’t realize we could look for.

I smile to myself for a split second after our reaction. When I look up I make direct eye contact with Morgan. He smirks, seeing what I have been trying to hide since I meet y/n: a crush.

#spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #fluff #criminal minds fluff

[you-heard-what-i-meant]

Leap of Faith - Moon Knight

Whoops, it’s been a Hot Minute Decade since I posted.

Here, have some Moonboys finding out F!Reader is pregnant to make up for it!

Leap of Faith - The Moon Boys have three very different reactions to finding out F!Reader is carrying their child. Available on AO3 Here!

Female! Reader, Pregnant! Reader. Angsty Fluff with a Happy Ending. 

Unbeta’d, please excuse any strangeness! 

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

You anxiously adjust the two mirrors you’ve set up on the desk near the bed, take a deep breath, and finally take the plunge.

“Hey Steven, have you got a minute?”

Steven’s head appears around a bookcase. “Of course, my love, what is it?”

You smile at his adorable image - a book in each hand, glasses perched half way down his nose, green jumper (slightly too big of course) softening his edges. 

“Can you come here?” You pat the bed beside you, and see a split second of worry warring with expectation pass across his face. He takes a few steps towards you.

“Everything alright, love?” He seems to have forgotten the books in his hands. You reach for them, and when he relinquished them you gently set them aside.

“Yeah, I just want to talk to you for a minute. And, um, are Marc and Jake around?”

Steven is starting to look concerned. His movements are measured as he sits next to you on the bed. He glances at the mirrors you’ve set up on the desk across from you both.

“Yeah, they, um, hang on…” he zones out for a second, then his eyes dart between the mirrors. His worried gaze settles on your face. You glance at the mirrors, but of course only see two slightly different angles of you and Steven sitting on the bed.

“… are they…?” You gesture towards the mirrors.

Steven blinks. “Uh, yeah, they’re here. What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

Your gaze flicks to the mirrors again. “Where…?”

It takes Steven a moment to understand, his wringing hands unlock long enough for him to gesture vaguely left then right. “Marc, Jake. Love… You’re worrying us.”

He goes to reach for your hands, but they’re grasped firmly in your lap. His hands drop to his own lap and he dismisses any further thought, too caught up in his steadily growing panic. Jake, however, studies your clasped hands. 

Steven’s leg is jiggling against the side of the bed now, and you're sure he’s picking up on your own nerves as you suddenly start to worry how they’re going to react. He utters your name softly, imploringly, and it gives you the push you need. You take a few steadying breaths, flip the thing in your hand upright and hold it out where all three men can see it. You anxiously focus on Steven’s face. He’s momentarily confused. “…What’s that…?” He studies the rectangular, white plastic stick, takes in the two blue lines in the little window at the centre, and a few seconds later his face goes blank. 

The little bit of excitement you’d been feeling underneath the nerves just withers and fades away. 

“Steven?” His face doesn’t change. “Marc? Jake?” You glance at the mirrors, although of course you see nothing of the other two men. You suddenly feel hollow. Your gaze drops to the stick as your hands fall into your lap taking the offending item with them. your voice comes out weaker than you’d have liked.

“Um, we can talk about it. It’s still really early on so-“

For a split second your fight or flight response is triggered - the arms around you are unexpected, and your instincts are blindsided. Then the thick New York accent filters through the fog in your brain and you tune in to Jake’s reaction. 

“ - a baby? I’m gonna be a daddy? That’s - it’s - darlin’ we’re having a little us!” And as he works to express his excitement, he peppers your face with kisses. One hand moves from caressing your back, to resting on your belly, warm, gentle, protective. His mouth is still opening and closing but now he’s run out of words, and he’s… well he’s glowing. He looks up at you with damp, glittering eyes. You can’t help the grin that splits across your face. 

“Yeah, Jake, we’re gonna be a family.” Then something occurs to you, and your smile falters. Of course Jake reads it straight away. “What’s wrong darlin’?”

You swallow with difficulty. “Where are…? Are Marc and Steven ok?”

A blank expression passes across Jake’s face. Of the three of them, he uses reflections to communicate the least. He prefers to just talk to his alters through their headspace. You wait as patiently as you can.

“Uhhhh… Yeah, Steven is…” his head tilts slightly “… I guess it’s like his brain is rebooting right now. He’s just getting up to speed. Marc is…” he trails off, a slight twist to his mouth. That slight twist is echoed in your stomach. 

“Is he angry?”

Jake’s expression changes immediately. “No! No he’s…” he searches for a word. You try to supply it.

“Upset?”

Jake shakes his head vigorously. “No, Darlin’, no. He’s… freaking out a bit, that’s all. But Steven and I can -“ Jake doesn’t get to finish his sentence before his face completely changes and an English accent starts pouring a jumble of words into the air between you.

“- oh my days, I can’t believe it! Well I can, obviously, I’m not calling you a liar or anything, I swear, but I just - me, a daddy! And you! You're going to be a mummy! Not a mummy like the dead Egyptians, of course -“ 

And his hands are gently touching every part of you he can reach - your face, shoulders, arms, stroking your legs, and finally they hover over your belly. He looks at you almost hesitantly, and you can’t help the chuckle that bubbles up your throat.

“With the things we did that put this baby in me, you don’t need permission to touch my stomach now Steven.” You relish the flush on his cheeks for a few seconds before he’s suddenly, gently, guiding you to lay back on the bed. The flush of embarrassment at your reminder of how you got to this moment is replaced by a flash of pure desire and heat, then almost immediately replaced with a watery-eyed softness. He hovers over you where you lay, propping himself up on one arm as his free hand gently lifts your shirt away from your stomach. You can’t help the flush of pleasure as his fingertips graze your skin, and you can’t hold in the moan it causes. Steven’s eyebrows shoot up. 

“Uhm, I don’t know…” his hand has frozen where it is, and it takes you a minute to trace his train of thought. You smirk. “We can still have sex Steven, ‘til right near the due date. We might need to be a bit creative in the last couple of months but I don’t intend to be giving that up. Besides, some people say you should do it more right before your due date to encourage the baby to arrive quickly.” You watch Steven file that away for later, then he’s back to being mesmerised by your soft belly. His hand gently lowers onto your skin, and you watch the wonder cross his face as he really considers what’s happening here. You can almost hear his thoughts whirling around.

“Oh love…” he sighs happily. It lasts just a few seconds.

You see the change instantly. The tension in his shoulders, the stillness in his face and body. Marc has arrived. He doesn’t move for a minute, and you call for him softly. “…Marc?” 

His eyes flick sideways at you, but otherwise he’s still a statue. The tension radiates from him. His head bows so far down it’s practically touching your stomach beside his hand. 

“I… Baby-“ he flinches at the pet name now “- I’m…”

Whatever it is, he can’t say it. He visibly struggles long enough for you to start feeling that fear again. Finally he grinds out through a broken throat “I don’t think I can do this.” You watch a tear fall from his cheek, feel it hit the sensitive skin of your belly. 

Panic begins to swell in your chest. You know Jake and Steven are fully behind this big step, but if Marc isn’t…

“Why not?” Your voice is soft. He shakes his head slightly. Then he’s sitting up, pulling his knees up and resting his elbows on them as his hands tug at his inky curls almost violently. You slowly sit up beside him.

“I… it’s not like I had the best role models. And… I’m broken, you know? I’m not stable enough. I’m not safe for either of you to be around. I’ve killed people, I still do, even though it’s Jake doing it now, it’s still these hands. And what if I lose it? What if I lose control one day and hurt the kid? What if someone comes after us because of what I’ve done in the past, what we still do now? What about-“ the flood gates have opened and Marc’s terror is pouring into the room. You grab his hands, shake them to get his attention. “Marc -“

His gaze snaps to your face, and he utters in a voice so broken it guts you. “I can’t take care of our baby.” 

He starts to shake his head, and it takes you a minute to realise he’s communicating with Steven and Jake. His murmured words begin to cycle like a mantra. “No, I can’t. I can’t. I can’t I can’t Ican’tIcan’tIcan’t-“ 

And you find yourself grabbing his face. “Marc! Stop!”

His dark eyes squeezed shut so hard he must be seeing flashing lights behind his closed lids. 

“You can. And you know you can because you’ve already raised someone, and they turned out just fine.”

That throws Marc. He looks up at you with watery eyes. “-what? Who?”

You smile softly at him, holding your tears in for dear life. “Steven. You raised him from when you were a child yourself. You sent him postcards from your mum, got him a place to live, a job at a museum that he loved… and you’re not alone are you?”

You can practically see him processing it all somewhere behind his panic. His voice is raw when he speaks. “I don’t want you to end up a single parent.”

You chuckle. “I won’t. This baby is the most blessed child in the world. He’s got three amazing dads. I didn’t even get one. I’m pretty sure that between you, you’ll cover all the bases. And if you ever get worried, you can help each other out.” 

Marc’s gaze moves to the mirrors. It’s a long couple of minutes of watching a silent conversation through Marc’s face before you see his expression finally break, and he slowly turns his attention back to you. The earlier all encompassing terror has now diminished somewhat, a light of hesitant hope in his dark eyes. 

“Okay.”

Your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “Okay?”

Marc’s throat bobs as he swallows hard. “Yeah. Okay. It’s - I mean, I’ve got a great example of what not to do, so…”. He offers a small, self deprecating smile.

Your heart breaks a little. You gently lay your palm against his face. “This baby is going to be the most loved child that ever existed.”

A long sigh deflates him, the tension leaking out of him and leaving him dragging you bonelessly down to the mattress with him. His voice is softer now, muffled where he buries his face in your neck as he mutters in your ear “this baby is going to be the most fucking spoilt child that ever existed, I swear.”

#fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #moonknight #moon knight #moonboys #moon boys #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #angst #fluff #fluffy #angst with a happy ending #happy ending #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fan fiction #moon knight fan fic #moon knight fanfiction #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[depressedbagpipe]

Silver (Prince Caspian x female!reader)

Chapter V - The Raid of Miraz's Castle

Words: 2615 Warnings: mentions of death, detailed depictions of injuries and blood. We have all seen this scene, so we know what we're dealing with :( A/N: hello there ;) here's next part! this chapter is shorter than the previous ones, but honestly, i didn't want to make the battle scenes longer for being potentially triggering. thank you once again for your support!! 💜

Series Masterlist Previous chapter <> Next chapter

Chapter V - The Raid of Miraz's Castle

The Gryphons dropped Edmund first, who would be the one on the lookout at the highest tower. With his flashlight, he motioned us to infiltrate the dormant walls, as the rest of the Narnians made their silent way into the surrounding fortress and gatehouse. Peter, Susan, Trumpkin, Caspian, and I managed to take out a few of the patrolling guards, successfully reaching Caspian’s professor’s tower. We descended with a rope to its closed window, with Caspian lightly tapping on it before opening it fully.

Trumpkin lent me his hand as I stepped inside the room, smiling appreciatively at the grumpy dwarf. The room was a mess, filled to the brim with opened books, manuscripts, burnout candles, and many more documents with beautiful pictures. We were all waiting for Caspian to move, as he was our map and guide inside the castle, but he seemed frozen on the spot, staring at something in his hands.

“I have to find him,” Caspian suddenly spoke, his professor’s glasses in his hands. By the look on his face, I knew something terrible had happened to him.

“You don’t have time,” Peter protested. “You need to get the gate open,” he tried to reason with him.

“You wouldn’t even be here without him,” Caspian’s face tensed. “And neither would I.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at his comment, but we didn’t have time to discuss it. We were already running out of time. Peter looked at Susan, silently asking for her logic.

“You and I can deal with Miraz,” she gave in.

Caspian pleaded, too. “And I can still get to the gate in time,” he was about to turn around, only I called after him.

“Wait,” I trailed after him. “I’ll come with you.” Caspian nodded at me, both of us running through the dark corridors and making our way down several flights of stairs.

We reached the dungeons, quickly knocking out the few guards at the entrance and stealing their keys.

“How do you know they got him here?” I asked, almost breathless.

Caspian grimaced in response, once again going down a narrow set of stairs that lead to even more darkness, save for a couple of low torches on the walls.

“My uncle never liked him. Too many stories about Narnia,” his words almost got stuck to his throat when he saw a figure laying down on one of the cells.

He quickly ran down and opened the doors, kneeling before the sleeping man. With a shake, he woke him up.

“Five more minutes?” Caspian spoke softly to him before opening the man’s handcuffs.

His professor, startled by his presence, was quick to tell his alumn off. “What are you doing here? I didn’t help you escape just so you could break back in,” Caspian helped him up, although the man was capable of standing on his feet. I exhaled in relief, knowing he had not been hurt. “You have to get out before Miraz learns you’re here,” the man told Caspian.

“He’s going to learn soon enough,” he gave him the key to the cell. “We are giving him your cell.”

The professor took Caspian by his arm before he could run back. I awkwardly stood in the center of the dungeon, checking the access for any guards, if only to give them some space.

“Don’t underestimate Miraz like your father did,” the man whispered hardly, his hand on Caspian’s shoulder, preventing him from moving.

I frowned at those words, although I had an idea of what the professor was referring to.

“What are you talking about?” Caspian almost shook in his place. His back was to me, yet I could picture his wide expression.

The professor looked down. “I’m sorry,” was his only answer.

Caspian ran up the stairs, leaving a dumbfounded professor behind him. I called after him, knowing where he was headed and how it could potentially ruin our plans.

“Hi,” I awkwardly waved at the professor, quickly following after Caspian.

Caspian got to Miraz’s quarters first. Peter and Susan were also in the room when I finally reached the place, finding Caspian with his sword on his uncle’s chest, the queen on the bed with a crossbow in her hands ready to attack Caspian, and Susan’s arrow pointed directly at the queen. Peter had his sword out as well, standing before the door to prevent anybody from leaving the place.

“This used to be a private room,” Miraz said, almost mockingly.

Peter had his sword in his hand. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be in the gatehouse!” He yelled at us, knowing our time was limited and this interruption would only further our problems. I shook my head at him, to at least let him know it had not been my idea. We knew that even fighting, we had to put every difference aside if we wanted to make it out alive.

“No!” Caspian yelled back at Peter, looking once again at his uncle. “Tonight, for once, I want the truth,” his voice broke. “Did you kill my father?” He asked, standing closer to Miraz. His eyes were wild, even with the bare light that flooded the darkness.

“Now we get to it,” was Miraz’s only answer before his wife intervened.

“You said your brother died in his sleep,” she mentioned, though she did not lower her weapon, pointed straight at her nephew. My hands were also gripping my bow tightly, ready to fire the two arrows aimed at Caspian’s family.

“That was more or less true,” Miraz answered.

Caspian’s eyes were burning with unshed tears.

“Caspian, this won’t make things any better,” Susan called out to him, though he did not seem to hear her.

“We Telmarines would have nothing had we not taken it. Your father knew that as well as anyone,” Miraz explained, yet the damage was done.

Caspian’s aunt lowered her crossbow, staring in disbelief at her husband. “How could you?”

“For the same reason you will pull that trigger,” Miraz wasn’t looking at her, but his words were directed at her, laced with venom and despair. “For our son!” He stepped closer to Caspian, despite his sword pointed to his neck.

“Stop!” the queen yelled at Caspian, aiming at him again.

“Stay right there!” Susan also yelled, her bow now fixed on Miraz as I kept aiming at the queen.

Miraz, on the contrary, was calmed, and collected, his voice not raised in the slightest. He addressed his wife. “You need to make a choice, dear. Do you want our child to be king? Or do you want him to be like Caspian here…?” His neck was now bleeding by the tip of Caspian’s sword. “... Fatherless!” Miraz shouted, his eyes burning on Caspian’s face.

“No!” the queen yelled in despair, shooting at Caspian. I shot the second she yelled, my arrow landing on her crossbow, making the direction turn and hitting Caspian in the arm instead of his heart. The other arrow on my bow flew near Miraz’s head, but he quickly stepped forward and escaped through a secret door despite Susan’s attempt of stopping him.

Caspian dropped his sword as he clutched his arm in pain, while Peter tried following Miraz despite the door being locked after his flight. I quickly pulled the arrow from his arm after checking the injury, and we all left the king’s quarters.

As we ran down the halls, Peter made his way into the path that would take him to the gatehouse.

“Peter!” Susan yelled at him, as the three of us stayed behind.

“Our troops are just outside! Come on!” he kept running while we stared at him.

Susan and I shared a look before she followed her brother outside.

“You alright?” I asked Caspian, knowing he was not in the best condition to fight with his injured arm.

He nodded at me, regardless. “I am right-handed,” he shrugged with some difficulty.

After a few seconds of catching our breaths, we followed the siblings outside.

Peter was now trying to open the heavy gate by himself, almost possessed.

“Peter!” I yelled at him. “It’s too late! We have to call it off while we can!” I could see guards filling the lookout posts, seemingly coming from every single entrance.

He kept on opening the door by himself. “No, I can still do this!” Yells could be heard from the guards. “Help me!” he implored, making the three of us desperately help him open the gate as Edmund signaled our troops to initiate the attack.

I could hear the drawbridge being lowered, knowing Trumpkin, Reepicheep, and his mouses were succeeding in their mission, but as the roaring of the Telmarine soldiers got louder, I knew we were doomed.

“Exactly who are you doing this for, Peter?” Susan harshly asked her brother, though he didn't answer. He couldn’t.

The Narnians finally reached the inside of the castle, and then, chaos broke loose.

I ran out of arrows almost instantly. As soon as the Telmarine archers were called in formation and aimed at us, I hid behind one of the stone pillars supporting the open courtyard, effectively killing the archers perched on the top left floor who were shooting at Edmund.

I saw Peter looking up at Miraz, who was almost enjoying the battle from a wide balcony. Peter started making his way upwards, supported by one of the minotaurs. Caspian, copying me, now had two swords in his hands, fighting forcefully.

The same minotaur who helped Peter was the first Narnian to fall, right before Peter’s eyes. I still kept an eye on him, catching his broken glance at the body before anger took over his head.

With my swords, I slashed left and right, taking on several soldiers at the same time the same way I had done dozens of times before. I stood back to back with Susan, for she too was low on arrows yet was managing fine by herself. Despite my efforts, my arms were starting to tire, as even more Telmarines flooded the courtyard. After a year back in England with no battles to fight, I was running on muscle memory, yet my stamina had decreased exponentially.

I saw Trumpkin fall from one of the towers, ironically landing on a Telmarine who was knocked out instantly, yet Trumpkin did not move from the floor.

I yelled his name and made my way towards him, at least to try to get him out of the direct fire, but a Telmarine soldier managed to pierce my armor with his sword. With the adrenaline pumping through my veins I stood on my feet, intercepting his blows with my swords and quickly slashing his neck. I could feel the warm liquid soaking my inner shirt, yet I did not dare stop.

The gate started to close, one of the guards having knocked down the weight that held it open, and thanks to a minotaur who supported its weight, we still had a way out. I quickly scanned the area, noticing the many bodies scattered around, both Narnian and Telmarine, but the fight was still raging on with no sign of ever stopping.

“Peter!” I yelled at him, hoping he would finally call retreat. I kept fending off the soldiers who came my way, although I was rapidly losing my strength.

“Fall back!” Peter finally called, motioning everybody out of the castle.

Caspian suddenly ran off to the side, and in the few seconds I was distracted by his absence, an arrow impaled itself on my thigh, making me drop to my knees in pain. I grunted loudly, especially when the blade of a sword almost slid my face in two. I managed to stop it with my own, yet the blood loss was making me feel dizzy already. Although the effort made me fall on my back and I could barely lift my arms anymore, with an unknown surge of strength, I sent his sword flying away. He then punched me in the face as I lay on the ground, barely able to move at that point. The wind had been knocked off me and I couldn’t seem to guess where the blows were coming from anymore. My hands were laying next to my thigh, unmoving, where the arrow still pierced the tissue, and right before the Telmarine could land another blow, I grabbed one of the daggers from my side pockets and slashed open his neck. His blood poured over me, yet I was way too used to it at this point to care.

I turned on my side, watching my own blood pool by my side as Peter kept calling retreat and the Narnians ran past me, knowing the minotaur could not be holding the door open much longer, for now, the Telmarines were attacking him directly.

“Get her out of here!” I heard Peter yell to Glenstorm, who quickly picked Susan on his back and rode her to safety.

I tried to get up, yet my body was failing me. My eyesight was blurry, my leg hurt to move, and my side torso felt like it had caught fire. My swords were back on my back and my dagger on my thigh, yet I could not move. I cut the arrow stick in two, making sure to keep the arrowhead still inside and within reach to at least keep the wound closed. Caspian finally appeared with three horses, his professor next to him on his own. He gave the remaining horse to Peter, who quickly got up and ran to the exit as he kept fighting some Telmarines. I closed my eyes, for even having them open hurt, and was just coming to terms with my death when I heard Caspian yell my name.

Two hands suddenly pulled me up and wrapped themselves around me, holding me close as the horse I ended up sitting on galloped to the gate. Miraz’s distant yell made hundreds of arrows fly around us, yet none of them reached me. Narnians and Telmarines alike were falling on each side as we sped through the castle, passing the barely open gate.

“Hey, hey, stay with me, keep those eyes open, okay?” Caspian’s voice suddenly played in my ear.

I opened my eyes with an effort, looking at the scene before me. The minotaur was now dead, the gate closed on him, with many Narnians on the other side shouting at us to run.

I saw Peter standing still close to the gate, frozen in place. He looked back at me with tears in his eyes, only I was barely conscious by that point. Caspian was holding me upright, with his chest supporting my entire body as I leaned toward him, the color rapidly leaving my skin.

“Peter!” Reepicheep suddenly called. “The bridge!”

The drawbridge was starting to lift, with Peter still on the other side.

“No…” I mumbled, although even that hurt.

Caspian, despite his injuries, was pressing one of his hands on my torso, trying to stop the blood flow while he held the horse’s reins with the other. He kept talking to me, although I was no longer registering his words. His mellow tone was calming my heart down, making me feel even drowsier. My head was screaming to simply let go.

With Peter crossing the bridge came silence.

I managed to catch Edmund on his gryphon, flying next to Peter’s horse as they left the castle. With a painful relief at knowing the Pevensies were safe, my head lolled back onto Caspian’s shoulder, his voice becoming distant as the adrenaline left my body, and the pain finally consumed me into unconsciousness.

Next chapter

#prince caspian x reader #prince caspian #ben barnes x reader #narnia fanfiction #narnia #prince caspian movie #prince caspian fanfiction #ben barnes #bin bons #chronicles of narnia #prince caspian x you #prince caspian x y/n #narnia imagines

[zekefreak]

Erwin x Reader x Zeke

Chapter 2: Planting Seeds

Cold air invaded your cozy fortress of sleep, as your partner moved & stretched next to you. A finger lightly tapped on your nose several times, followed by a gentler " Good morning sunshine."

" No," was your only respond to the attempts to tear you away from your dreams.

" I didn’t ask anything," his cute little pout detectable in that short response.

" As in, no it's not a good morning. I don't want to wake up," besides, the buzz of the air conditioner was still lulling you to sleep.

The arms wrapped around you disappeared, further muddling the path back to dreamland. " Come on first day of the last year of high school. You should be excited."

You finally opened your eyes, & the light escaping the venetian blinds was already making you regret your decision. " There's absolutely nothing exciting about leaving the bed. Not when I'm cuddled up with you, Zeke."

" Not for long, I ordered us bagels & coffee for breakfast. Gotta pick it up."

You clarified your stance by wrapping your arms & legs around him, & nuzzling your head on his neck.

A soft humm, almost a purr, escaped his lips, " This is sweet & all but I do have a flight to catch. Come on, take a shower, get dressed. We gotta get outta here soon."

He's right. This should be an exciting time. A senior finally. You won't be doing this for long. Memorize every detail that you can now. From the burned down house to the cherry blossoms along the way. You were sure you'd miss it all one day.

The classroom was still empty, save for the teacher, Mr. Zacharias. The floor was as shiny as it will ever be. Tables still clean of graffiti & test answers. No chewing gums under the chairs just yet. Clean start for the new year.

You sat at the front of the room & attempted to kill time by reading a book.

Things have changed since those times, some up are in "G" Others they are wanderers but they all feel -

" Hey y/n!" Sasha interrupted the peace with her excited greeting. Bagel with cream cheese & coffee on hand.

A smile graced your face as she sat next to you, " Hey Sash, you're late, no surprise."

" Yeah I had to fight the lunch lady to give me the bagels. They were all packed up when I got there."

" Just in time Miss Blause. I was just about to distribute everyone's schedule," Mr. Zacharias announced.

You proceeded to read, as Sasha devoured the food in front of her, " Hey what are you reading?"

" Inside the Apple. It's about how New York became what it is today."

" You know if you're into that, you should take my class. I teach Human Geography for the seniors," Mr. Zacharias interjects as he placed your schedule on the desk in front of you.

" I didn't even know that class was offered here. I'll take a look after checking out my classes today. Thanks," you responded.

Drops of coffee splatter on your schedule as you look up to see Sasha leaning close to look at the paper." Speaking of, what classes are you taking this year? Ooh! You got Smith for your last class! I heard he looks like a sugar daddy!"

You add to the splatter on your schedule, as you spit out your coffee at the thought. Surely this is the last thing you need for this semester.

" I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear you say that about my very good friend," Mr. Zacharias couldn't help but interrupt with quite a blush on his face.

Sasha's face remain calm at the reply, as yours turn hot red.

I do not need a hot professor this semester. Not now. Not ever. Do NOT tempt me to have a good time.

Finally, your last class for the day. You were excited and afraid to see him. Because you know yourself, you love being reckless. A gorgeous teacher? Why wouldn't you pounce on that? The adrenaline rush you'd get from that. All the inappropriate thoug-

"Good afternoon"

And immediately you knew. His voice alone inspired so many daydreams, but with his tousled blonde hair, strong physique and domineering stature, you knew.

Good afternoon indeed

You shook your head, biting your lips to hide a smirk. You couldn't understand the rush you were feeling. You were excited because GOD is he gorgeous. The man exudes confidence and charm. And you were scared because this means trouble. You have very little self control. In need of a moral compass - your friend has checked, they don't sell it on Amazon. Knowing you, you'd make an inappropriate remark here, make a fool of yourself there. It'll be obvious to anyone who looks at you that you were infatuated with the man in front of you.

His eyes, oh how beautiful. So inviting you can't help but just stare in awe. How will you be able to concentrate on anything he says? Do I change my schedule? Maybe I should join Mr. Zacharias' class. Leave this class before you make a fool out of yourself.

" I'm Mr. Smith, your Economics teacher for this semester"

" It's a pleasure to be here Mr. Smith," oh & what a pleasure it will be, " I'm f/n l/n."

" Welcome to my class miss l/n. The pleasure's all mine"

#erwin x reader #zeke x reader #erwin x reader x zeke #zeke x reader x erwin #gamblers conceit

[broken-freedom]

• Hidden surprises pt2 •

Word count: 2K

TW: Nude pictures. Phone sex. Mutual masturbation.

You can read part 1 here

It has been 12 days since you paid your farewell to Eren and caught him jerking off to your lacy panties hours later when he got to his hotel room on the other side of the country. During these days, you made sure to grant Eren’s wish by sending him a lot of pictures and videos of the girls. Some of it with them playing in the playground, others of them making fruit sorbet and making a mess all over themselves and their clothes, and other ones where they are watching a prerecorded video of Eren himself reading a bedtime story for them for the nights that he couldn’t do it because of his flight schedule. It became a routine and a method of bonding for Eren to watch the pictures and videos of his girls and you together, and respond to them by sending pictures of him throughout the day. Bed hair picture first thing in the morning, a picture of him washing his teeth with his eyes wide open, and pilot hat on picture with him grinning and pointing at the airplane during preflight checkups. You get so many pictures of Eren every day all day regardless of what he is doing and you make sure to show them to the girls and tell them what their daddy is currently doing.

After you hung up another video call with Eren after he told a bedtime story to your daughters, and tucked them in so they can sleep, you get to your room exhausted from your long day and ready for a hot tub me-time with your book at one hand and a glass of wine on the other. You can normally read romance fiction without being affected, it never bothered you and you found it quite interesting how you can separate your own feelings and needs from what you are reading. But with your husband being away for the past 12 days, the book in your hand started to make you feel things. Things you do not normally feel unless your skin was being worshiped by Eren’s long slim fingers. You close your eyes remembering his touches on your skin, very slow but with purpose. Eren usually teases, and teases a lot making you whine and desperately begging for more. The way his hot breath would stroke your lips and his eyes would pour affection into yours tingles all of your senses. You drop the book by the bathtub side feeling your body warming up. You can see your flushed face reflecting on the mirror in front of your bathtub. Eren knew what he was doing by hanging a mirror in there. It was getting hotter and steamier inside the bathroom. Was it you? Because of the scene you just read? Or was it the water being extra warm today? The way you clenched your walls around nothing answered you not even seconds afterwards. You definitely miss Eren and his too good to be true dick. The hand that was not holding the wine glass slipped inside the water and cupped your breast trying to remember how Eren used to massage it for you, but you let it go just as quickly as you grabbed it, sighing in defeat. You stand up to drain the tub and turn on the cold water in the shower and step inside trying your best to gain composure ignoring the way your cunt is screaming at you begging for attention. 

After you wrap the towel around your body and head out to the room, you hear a notification ping. “Must be something silly Eren sent for the girls” You thought. But oh how wrong you are. This is definitely not what you expected and definitely not for the girls. You click open the sent message reading “why are you doing this to me?” and when you see the attached picture you understand what he means. He is cupping his erection through his sweatpants just to show you what that polaroid is doing to him, how hard it made him. You blink twice, feeling that heat pooling again in your core because of the very clear print. He is hard, but also hundreds of miles away from your reach. You rush to type a response to him:

You: Oh?

Cockpit ❤️ : I found the picture you hid in my sweatpants. Sent image 

You: Glad you like it ;) 

You look at the nude polaroid of yourself you hid inside the folded sweatpants when you packed his suitcase before his trip. You still cannot process how you were able to take such a picture. But actually, you took several ones like this and kept them safe and away from the curious eyes that live with you. In the picture you were sitting down on your bed with your knees folded underneath you with your back to the camera, hair swept to your side exposing your bare back with you looking back at the camera over your shoulder with nothing on but the tiny pearled thong that shone under the sunlight. You like this picture quite a lot. The angle was just right and you were dying to show it, or send it, to Eren, and the timing could not be any better with him traveling to hide it in between his clothes.

When you go silent for more than a minute you are surprised with a video call. You see Eren’s face glowing under the faint light of his phone displayed on the screen when you hit the green button, and you can already see that he is shirtless. “I love it, baby” Eren tells you with a husky voice and a smirk on his face, his eyes widening soon after he sees you wearing nothing but a towel hugging your body low enough to expose enough cleavage for Eren’s eyes to enjoy. “Only a towel, hmm? You are just making this situation worse” You giggle and purposely squish your tits, popping them even more, making Eren inhale sharply. “This is torture baby” He started staring at you in admiration through the screen. “I have been thinking about you every night. And these little surprises you hid in between my things aren't exactly helping.” He pulls the polaroid to the camera where you can see it again. “I have been thinking about you too Ren, every night” your voice comes out trembling when you suddenly recall what you were about to do not too long ago. You know what Eren’s situation is like, you know how YOU need him just as much, and you feel courged. You stand up and move to the dresser and prop your phone upwards by the mirror and take a step back. Eren looks at you all confused through the screen and his jaw drops the moment your towel hits the ground “Baby! W- what are you doing?” He attentively watches as you sit on the dresser’s chair and start to slowly spread your legs, pupils fully blown, lips parted, and breath hitched in his throat. “It has been 12 days, that’s 12 days too long Ren, I need you.” Your hands start moving like they have their own brain, one of them cupping your tit and capturing the hardening nipple in between, while the other one trails down your navel and settling in between your legs. 

You feel heat spreading in two opposite directions one covering your cheeks and ears in a bright shade of red, and the other spreading through your center signaling you to keep going when you involuntarily let out a tiny moan. Eren wants to tease, wants to make you even more embarrassed, wants to encourage you to show him more, but he is just as desperate. He props his back on the headstand of his hotel bed, one hand holding the phone while the other lazily stroking his erection through his sweats. Suddenly he pushes the sweats down to his mid thighs freeing his cocking and grasping it in between rough long fingers.. When you start to rub circles on your clit, Eren moves the screen to give you a better angle of his hand stroking his dick to the same rhythm you are maintaining. You get up and move to get the phone and lay down on your back on the bed propping the phone on a pillow in front of you while you have your legs wide open for Eren to see your movements and go back to rubbing circles. You two watch each other silently, your eyes lock for a brief moment then go back to watch each other’s movements , not knowing what to even say as this was a time of need of action and not words. You are surprised when you hear him gently telling you to insert one finger inside of your cunt, and you comply with a simple nod. You slowly rub your middle finger up and down your folds covering it with your slick then insert it inside your cunt. Your moans start to get louder when you push another one and start moving them in and out of your cunt. “Fuck, baby you look so pretty all spread out for me.” You can see the way his cock twitches in his hand, and he can see the way your cunt is swallowing your fingers knowing that the both of you are close to your release. 12 days of wanting each other, needing each other, wishing you can touch him and feel his touches. You try to move your other hand around your body the way Eren does worshiping every little detail engraved in your body. The movements of your fingers in and out of your cunt are getting more intense, filling the room with wet noises “I wish you were here Ren, I need you to touch me.” you speak to the phone, the only thing that is connecting the both of you at the moment, and what pushes you over the edge is not the aggressive movement of your two fingers on your cunt, nor the nipple pinching your other hand is performing, but the way Eren’s eyes are trained on your cunt. His hungry eyes not leaving your wet pussy for a second, not even when he fists his cock faster, thumb gliding over the head every few strokes, and when he seductively tells you to cum for him, you let go, releasing all that built up frustration with your orgasm moaning his name loudly. You can’t relax just yet, and spread your folds apart for Eren’s eyes to see the mess you just made, your white juices dripping from your pussy and into the sheets underneath was more than enough for him to start shooting ropes of white on his abs and hand with him cursing under his breath. His strokes slow down until they come to a stop. “That was hot, we should do this more often.” Eren speaks into the silence of both rooms and you just look at the screen still feeling hazy because of the aftermath of your orgasm and you smile at him “yea we should”.

You squeeze your eyes trying to open them up. Looking at the digital clock on your nightstand you see that it is 11 am. Your eyes widen in horror not believing you overslept and the girls are probably up for at least 3 hours by themselves. When you try to shoot up, you feel something heavy holding you by the waist. “Eren!” you practically scream when you see his arm pulling you closer to his chest. “Hi baby” You feel him spreading kisses on your bare shoulder except for the thin strap of your nightgown. “The girls!” you exclaim for the second time. “I dropped them by mom’s house when I got here earlier this morning. We have the whole house to ourselves ” He shuffles until he is hovering over you and pressing your back to the bed leaning down to capture your lips in deep kiss. When he breaks the kiss lifting his head to look at you with his beautiful eyes, your hands come up to lace through his soft hair “I missed you so much Ren, but aren’t you supposed to work for two more days?” His lips form a gentle smile and he rubs his nose against yours when he speaks the words that have your head spinning “You told me you wish I was there next to you, so I came” … 

#eren jeager #eren fic #eren smut #eren x reader

[ladylooch]

Letters in Your Last Name - Chapter 32

A/N: Wrote this chapter in 20 minutes. You never forget the little wins like that 🥰

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: SMUT 18 + Content, smidge of child birth- less dramatic than last time hehe.

Airplane seats were not made for women who are close to 7 months pregnant. That much is certain as I settle in to our first class seat, adjusting my hips so the baby settles into a better position. Although at this stage in pregnancy, there isn’t many “good” positions left. My husband plops down into the seat next to me with a huff. He’s been huffing and puffing all morning, but I refuse to let him blow down my vacation buzz. We are currently on our way to the Hilton Los Cabo resort for an extremely rare and short, season break.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Kevin grumbles from beside me.

“It’s fine.” I say to him, not looking up from my book. It’s a historical fiction about a few badass women helping the Allies get an edge in World War II.

“I am literally going to lose my shit if you give birth in Mexico.”

“I’m not. I’m giving birth on January 3rd.” I say to him, reminding him of my already scheduled cesarean appointment. With Luca being an emergency c-section, our doctor recommended leaning towards delivering this way again. It’s technically possible to do so naturally after one these days, but we opted to pencil in the delivery of our next child. Ya know, for easy planning.

“Yeah, if you don’t go into labor first.” He snaps at me. I sigh and drop my book, looking at my husband.

“I’m over this attitude.” I swirl my hand in a circle at him. “You’re acting like I made you buy these tickets, pack your bags, get into the car, drop Luca at my parents, go through the airport, and get on this plane, all with your balls in a vice.” My ensuing look is pointed at him. He purses his lips at me and shakes his head looking away. “Choices, baby, have consequences like unprotected sex.” I rub my hand over my belly. “And the doctor cleared me yesterday to do this, so quit getting your panties in a bunch. Mama needs a vacation and to not watch The Little Mermaid for a few days.”

“Would you two like something to drink before takeoff?” The flight attendant interrupts Kevin’s response.

“Vodka?” Kevin asks and I click my tongue at him.

“How about sparkling water? For both of us. With limes, please.” I narrow my eyes at my husband.

“I need a drink, Sam. I’m seriously concerned that we are going to get to 30,000 feet and your water is going to break.”

“Kevin. I’m pregnant, you’re not. Our daughter is sitting on my bladder right now, not yours. So your feelings are invalid. Now, shut up.” I hiss at him. The flight attendant gives me a knowing look and stifles a giggle.

“Sparkling water with a lime wedge it is.” She winks at me.

“Jesus take the wheel.” He mutters under his breath.

“You’ll be meeting Jesus soon if you don’t shape up.” I tell him as I flip my book back open. I can sense Kevin’s gaze on me, but he wises up and keeps his mouth shut until our plane lands in Baja California. The exhale that comes out of his mouth makes me smile when our eyes meet.

“I could be really mean right now, but I won’t.”

“Don’t even pretend.” He shakes his head at me with a nervous laugh. He leans forward and kisses me gently. His hand comes to my belly and pushes against our daughter.

We make it to the resort and onto the beach in under an hour. Kevin immediately dives into the ocean. I’m thankful for a break from his constant check ins. I settle into a chair with my book again, glancing every so often at my husband to make sure he keeps popping his head above the surface. It isn’t long before he’s emerging from the water, rippling muscles covered with droplets racing down them. I moan and bite my lip at his approach. He reaches for his towel on the lounge chair next to me, wiping his body off and studying me.

“You’re getting red. You need more sunscreen.” He completely misses my invitation. Instead, he reaches into our beach bag for the baby sunblock we brought from the room. “Maybe we should get another umbrella over here for you.” He extends his hand to me with the bottle. “Also, I haven’t seen you drink enough water today.” My eye twitches at the last sentence. I release a heavy sigh and put my book down. He is killing me. At this rate, I won’t be enjoying more than five minutes of this vacation.

“Kevin. Baby, I love you so much, but you are getting on my last damn nerve.” I say to him, flipping my sunglass up so he can see the annoyance in my green eyes. “You have been concerned about this pregnancy since the day you saw her on the ultrasound and it is getting to be too much. Your girls are fine. Relax.”

“Sorry I love you two.” Defensiveness drips from his tone.

“I know you love us, but you’re smothering us. And I’ve asked you to stop multiple times.”

“Us?” He questions with a wrinkle of his nose.

“Yes! Us! Lacey told me she wants to enjoy this vacation without your fussing!” The sound of our daughter’s name makes Kevin’s frustration ease. I flick my sunglasses back down onto my nose. “If you need a task, go get me something to drink that isn’t water.” My tone is pointed and a reminder for him to mind his damn business about what I put into my body.

“Well… what do you want?” He asks me, grabbing his shirt and pulling it back over his large shoulders. He buttons one button to keep it together and stands.

“Surprise me.” I mumble without looking up from my book. Kevin hovers for another moment before slumping off to find a drink hut. When he is gone from ear shot I release another heavy sigh. He is so intense these days. This entire pregnancy really. He was not like this with Luca, but something about this one has him going a little crazy. Maybe it’s because of how difficult it was to conceive her. Maybe it’s because its our first daughter. I don’t know. All I know is if he’s like this now, what will he do when Lacey is out in this scary world?

“He will take care of you, sweetheart.” I murmur to our daughter. I press into where she’s resting and close my eyes. “You’re lucky to have him as your daddy. He’s a good man.” I assure her, rubbing a few tight circles over her on my stomach. A shadow casts over me. It’s my husband, standing above me with a grin.

“I heard that.”

“Good.” I say, reaching for the pink drink he extends adorned with a blue umbrella. “What is this?”

“Virgin Sex on the Beach. Didn’t think there was such a thing.” His eyes deepen before he glances over his shoulder, seeing how much privacy we have.

“I’m not having sex with you in the sand.” I say immediately as I take the glass from him. I know where he is trying to go with this. Luckily, his overprotectiveness has never applied to our sex life. “It takes forever to get out of the vag.”

“Damn it.” He groans. “Wait, how do you know that? We haven’t had sex on a beach.” I purse my lips around the straw and slide my gaze away.

“Samantha.” He tisks at me.

“Spring break. Pensacola Beach. Freshman year in college. It wasn’t that good because of said sand.” I shrug at him, settling back into my chaise. Kevin gives me a sour look. “Oh stop. It was with my boyfriend at the time. Tell me more about having your own apartment at 17.” His face immediately breaks out into a smile.

“Those were good days.”

“Fucker.” I narrow my eyes at him, sucking up the delicious juice through my red straw. “Just remember, Kevin. When you think back on those fond memories with your puck bunnies, your daughter will be 17 some day. You better pray that she doesn’t have an encounter with 17 year old you.” The smile immediately drops from Kevin’s face and he looks out across the tumultuous surface of the ocean, hopefully contemplating his poor life choices before me.

“I don’t need to think about those days when I get to wake up next to you every morning.” His gaze travels back to mine. I feel my eyes pinch behind my sunglasses. I reach out for his left hand and slide my thumb across his wedding band. His fingers lace around mine and he brings the back of my hand up to his lips.

“You’re good.” I compliment him.

“I know.” He laughs at me. “Baby, your cheeks are getting really red.” He says gently. “Let’s go up to the pool. There is more shade there.”

“Okay.” I concede, closing my book and tossing it into our bag.

Kevin gathers the rest of our stuff and we make our way up the stairs to the infinity pool. Surprisingly, its relatively empty besides one other couple who are obviously asleep in chaises beneath their cabana. We set our stuff down at two chairs across the pool from them before heading over to the entrance. Kevin jumps into the pool, deciding to forgo the traditional route of stairs. I leisurely walk down into the pool as Kevin drops below the surface of the water again. He stays under for a few moments before he crashes back up, looking at me while pushing his hair back from his face.

“I think in another life you were a fish.” I tease him as he swims over to me.

“I was definitely a shark.” His teeth snap playfully at me. He crouches down and gathers me into his arms, beginning to walk us both back into deeper water. “I’m sorry. I know I’m smothering you, but I can’t seem to stop. From the moment they said girl at the 20 week appointment, my chest has been tight with worry.” He confesses to me, as he continues to wade deeper into the pool. I sigh as the water wraps around my belly and up my breasts. I can feel the pressure of pregnancy releasing off my organs as we float in the warm water.

“S’okay. She’s safe in me.” I mumbled to him, resting my head against his shoulder. Being weightless in his arms and the extra exposure of the sun has my eye lids drooping peacefully.

“Do you want to go back to the room for a nap?” He asks me after a few more minutes of floating around.

“In a little bit. The water is holding her weight and it feels good.”

“Okay.” He murmurs to me. “You know what I’m thinking about right now?”

“The pool in Sweden?” I giggle to him without opening my eyes.

“I haven’t been in a pool since then when I haven’t thought of that.”

“Same.”

He rests his head against mine and water from his wet hair beads down my throat. My hand winds up his neck to the base of his head and I tangle my fingers through his wet locks. Kevin sighs and leans into my fingers. I smile against his shoulder then pucker my lips against his skin. He is warm beneath me and a slight sunburn is starting to bleed through. I open my mouth and take a sliver of his flesh lightly between my teeth. Kevin turns his head to place his lips against my temple.

“Love you.” He whispers to me like a secret the rest of the world isn’t in on. I pull back to look into his face. He’s drowning in adoration as our gazes meet.

“Love you more.” I say to him, pressing our lips together.

“Impossible.” He insists to me.

“Let’s go to bed and we can fight about it there.” I purr against his lips. My tongue traces his bottom lip and he opens his mouth to connect them.

When we get back to our room, Kevin takes me to bed and makes love to me. It’s passionate love making at it’s finest- full of sensual touches and loving caresses that have my pregnancy hormones bouncing in my body. We are both warm from the sun and everywhere our skin touches feels like fire. Afterwards, we rest contently in each others arms. Kevin’s fingers stroke my hair lovingly as our legs tangle together. My lashes flutter against his chest as I struggle to keep my eyes open.

“Go to sleep, baby.” Kevin finally whispers to me before his lips graze my forehead. His words hold the gentle nudge I need. I drift off in moments.

I awaken hours later as the golden light of the setting sun fills our hotel room. I gingerly sit up and wince at the feeling of my hip being asleep. I roll to my back for a moment and rub at the spiky feeling dancing down my leg. I notice Kevin’s absence and turn to look at the balcony that extends from our suite. I see my husband there, laying back in his chair with his head tilted towards the sun. He looks so good. The orange and yellow hues of the sunset bounce off his tan skin and muscular chest.

I carefully roll onto my side and push myself up into a sitting position. I scoot myself off the bed and try not to feel exasperated at how unnecessarily hard that was. My body is working overtime growing a human being. It’s okay if it doesn’t function like it used to before babies. My movement catches Kevin’s eye and he turns to take me in. I’m still naked and his brown eyes devour me. I watch his gaze slide to all his favorite places. A yearning need begins to throb ion my core. I reach for the plush hotel robe on the chair by the door, pulling it on before joining him outside.

“Sit with me.” He reaches for my hand and pulls me into his lap. “You look very beautiful.. and sexy.. and loved..” He says each word around a kiss.

“It’s cause you love me so good.” Kevin’s hands rest on my belly as I talk. We can both feel Lacey moving around at the sound of our voices.

“Pregnancy agrees with you.” Kevin murmurs to me. “You’re like a glowing goddess.”

“You must not have seen me trying to get off the bed just now.” I laugh at him, dropping my forehead to his. I pull back and look at his face again. He looks at me in a way that makes my heart skip a beat.

“You’re perfect.” He says simply. And as I always do, I believe him. “What do you want for dinner?”

“I wish I could have real sushi.” I whine to him. “It would be so good here.”

“I know. I thought about that.” He frowns at me.

“Um.. honestly carne asada tacos sound good. With chips and guac.”

“You got it.” He pats my butt for me to rise. He walks over to his phone and begins to put our order in through the app.

“Oh! Babe! Fried ice cream!” I yell to him and he smiles at me, giving me a thumbs up.

“I already knew you wanted that.” He laughs when he joins me on the balcony after he’s done. “You’ve got my baby in there. She definitely wants ice cream.”

“I’ve never craved sweets more in my life than being pregnant with your children.” I shake my head at him. We grow quiet and look out across the ocean. The ripples of the water are glowing in the fading light. It’s picturesque. Just like the man sitting across from me.

“Oh, while you were sleeping, I called down to the spa and they have a massage therapist here who specializes in prenatal massages. Apparently, she’s from Canada and lives down here during the winter season.”

“What….” My eyes widen at him in excitement. “I want that. Tomorrow.” I nod my head at him.

“Good, cause you’re going. 10am.”

“What if she massages the baby right out of me?”

“You know I don’t think that’s funny.” He rolls his eyes at me. “Plus, Lacey and I talked about it while you were sleeping. She’s agreed to stay in you until we are back home.” I let out a loud snort of a laugh, tilting my head back.

“Wow, she’s already a daddy’s girl.”

A knock at the door stops Kevin from responding. He jogs to grab it and brings our meal out to me on the balcony. My carne asada tacos smell and look so good that my mouth is watering instantly. Kevin got Baja shrimp tacos. We both split the chips and guac and settle with water for drinks after our day in the sun.

“Have you heard from my parents? I thought they would have called at bedtime.” I ask him after my first bite. He nods his head at me, but swallows his food before he speaks.

“Your mom FaceTimed me with Luca while you were sleeping.”

“Dang it.” I frown, tapping Kevin’s phone screen to see the time. It’s well past Luca’s bedtime now. He’s likely been asleep for hours.

“It’s probably good he didn’t see you. He was a little upset. It would have been hard for you.” He gives me a small shrug.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Did he cry when he saw you?”

“No, but he was going down that road the longer we talked, so I told your mom we should just end the call. She texted me a picture of him five minutes later with your dad reading to him. He was happy and sleepy.”

“Okay. I’ll try to call tomorrow morning and see how it goes.” I pick up a piece of steak with my fingers, chewing it slowly. It melts in my mouth and is bursting with flavors of citrus and salt. “It’s been a little easier than I thought to be away from him.” I admit to Kevin.

“You needed a break.” He acknowledges to me. “You’ve been doing a lot the last few months- growing a baby and chasing a toddler.”

“That’s true. I feel kind of guilty though.” I shrug my shoulders.

“You’re an amazing mom. Every parent needs a break from their kid. It's normal.”

“Yeah, I know that. I just… I kind of feel bad that you have this week off and I took you away from him. Not sure that’s fair to either of you.”

“Babe, we needed to reconnect with each other. Being here together is going to make us better parents for him when we get back.” I nod my head in agreement.

“Yeah, I know you’re right.” I push my plate of half eaten tacos away. At this point in my pregnancy, I get full pretty quickly. But there is always room for dessert. “Where is my ice cream?” I ask him. He laughs and goes into the fridge, grabbing it and placing it in front of me. It’s at a perfect eating consistency and easy to spoon into my mouth.

“Fuck…” I moan out as the first bite slides into my mouth. Kevin’s eyes meet mine and an awareness blankets the balcony. I stick my tongue out of my mouth and lick the remaining ice cream off the back of the spoon. Kevin clears his throat and breaks his gaze away from mine. “I can’t wait to do this to you later.” I whisper to him. His gaze darts back to my eyes. I deliberately run my tongue along each edge of my top teeth while looking into his eyes. Kevin swallows and he releases a quick exhale.

“Just tell me when.” He finally speaks to me. His voice is dripping with obvious arousal. I’m satisfied with his response.

“When I’m done with my ice cream.” Kevin nods his head at my teasing and then smirks. His tongue dances along his bottom lip before he sucks in a corner of it between his teeth. It pops back into place, a little plumper than before. I blink as a wave of involuntary pleasure weaves around my body. My mouth instantly begins to water. It has nothing to do with the ice cream on my spoon.

“Now.” I whimper out to him. He pumps his fist, then picks me up and we fall into bed moments later.

After we take the latest edge off, Kevin spoons me from behind. I lazily run my fingers along his forearm where his hand is resting on my bump.

“I’m glad you made us do this.” He whispers into my ear. His breath makes a few strands of my hair tickle my face. “We feel like us again… Sam and Kevin, not mom and dad.”

I sigh and lean back deeper into his chest. His palm tightens around my bump and our daughter kicks against him.

“We do. And now I’m ready for her to be here.” I murmur to him.

“Me too.” He nuzzles my neck with his nose. “But for now, go get that ice cream you’re obviously still thinking about. Then, I’ll rub your feet.”

“Yay!” I shimmy in excitement and bounce off the bed to the balcony. He laughs and watches me from the bed like a man who hasn’t had enough of his wife.

I reach for my ice cream, not even caring that it’s barely ice cream anymore, and turn with the cup in my hand. I pause there, taking in the view from across the room. Kevin has grabbed the remote for the TV and he flicks through the channels to find something for us to watch. My breath catches in my throat as my eyes trail down his naked body. He’s strong and sexy but most of all he’s sweet. The sweetest man I could have ever asked for to be mine. He absentmindedly brings a hand to his face and he rubs at the days worth of stubble growing there. I could watch him just be, doing normal human things, for hours. My lack of movement draws his eyes to me. The smile that he gives me forces goosebumps to break out down my body. Thank God this man’s baby is in me.

“Holy shit.” I say through bubbling tears in my throat. “I love you. Way more than this ice cream.” At this point in my pregnancy, he’s immune to my hormonal emotions.

“Good. Now, come back to bed.” _ _ _

My eyes are closed when I hear her cry for the first time. Just like with Luca, the overwhelming emotions sweep over me. Kevin’s lips are on my cheek and he grips my hand tightly.

“Are you okay?” He asks me, noting my silence. All I can do is nod.

She’s finally here.

When I open my eyes, I watch intently as they hand Lacey to Kevin to hold. His lips part as he sucks in a surprising breath when he sees her face.

“I’m done for.” He whispers to me. His eyes are filling with tears and I’m a little concerned something is wrong with her. “She looks just like you.” He finally tells me, turning our daughter so I can see her face. He is right. Even through the goop, she’s a Stalock through and through. I beam at him and my eyes match his teary ones.

“She is me.” I confirm to him.

“She is so lucky. So beautiful.” He smiles and brings her down closer to my face. She’s pure perfection. Her eyes are open and she’s looking around at her new surroundings. Her face is beginning to signal a cry, distorting in anguish.

“Mama’s here, Lace.” I whisper to her. She pauses mid-cry at the sound of my voice. Fresh tears leak from my eyes and Kevin reaches to brush them away. “Babe, I want to hold her.”

“Okay.” Kevin murmurs to me, scooting closer with his chair and leaning forward. He gently places Lacey on my chest, helping my arms support her weight in my drugged up haze. I reach for her face and slowly brush the tips of my fingers over her features. Kevin sighs contently next to me as his brown eyes turn to mush while looking at our daughter. He’s head over heels in love with a new girl. And I’m perfectly okay with that.

“What is this sweet girl’s name?” Grace asks as she checks our baby’s heartbeat again. It’s strong and steady, just how we want it.

“Lacey Marie Fiala.” I tell her without taking my eyes from our daughter.

“Vítej na světě, naše dokonalá holka.” Kevin speaks softly in Czech.

Welcome to the world, our perfect girl.

#letters in your last name au #sam x kevin fiala #Kevin Fiala Fic #los angeles kings #my writing #hockey fan fiction #hockey writing #NHL writing

[brandstifter-sys]

These Dreams

Chapter 8: Confrontations              (Ao3) (must be signed in)

For @dukexietyweek 2023 Day 8 - Freeform

Word Count: 1110

Rating: T

Characters: Remus, Virgil

Warnings: So Much Meta, sexual themes, Remus grossness, gore mention

Virgil is on a mission to figure out why Remus, of all sides, decided to write a multi-chapter soulmate fanfic of the two of them and what it means for them.

---

This had to be some kind of hell. Virgil was sure of it. The long, ominous hallway seemed to stretch on forever and he could feel the walls themselves watching him. But that's what he expected when he was in this part of the mindscape. 

It wasn't like he wanted to be on the dark side of the mind, but he had to find Remus and return a rather interesting book of fanfiction. 

It was a long winded soulmate au titled "These Dreams" like that song by Heart, and the two people involved piqued Virgil's interest. 

Despite moving in with the "light sides" as Janus used to mockingly call them, Virgil never really moved on from his days in the dark. He never moved on from his feelings no matter how much he tried to run. 

He had feelings for Remus. He was the one person who could handle his bitterness and his mean quips. And he did it with a smile. He was supportive and honest, always ready to make Virgil laugh. He was enchantingly morbid and confident, and handsome in a feral way. It was hard to forget about Remus. 

Virgil took a deep breath and knocked on Remus' door. He could do this. He could confront Remus and he could handle it when Remus brushed it off as an impulse. 

The heavy black door creaked open, slowly enough to set off Virgil's fight-or-flight response. He was frozen in place as Remus poked his severed head out of his room. His eyes and smile were too wide and he looked especially deranged. Until he realized who decided to visit. 

"Virgil!" he cheered and beamed, "What brings you to my den of despair?" 

"This," Virgil said and held up the book. Remus got one look at the black and green cover and immediately slammed the door shut. 

Virgil was ready to drop it and sink out. He was not ready for that reaction. 

But then Remus opened the door again, with his head attached to his neck. 

"I was looking everywhere for that! I started eating my toenails when I couldn't find it!" he beamed and grabbed the book, "You didn't happen to read it, did you? It's so gross and disgusting and bloody it'll give you nightmares!" 

Virgil stared at him and scowled. 

"I read it. I thought you said that wasn't your type of fanfic," he said flatly and crossed his arms. Remus winced but immediately bounced back with a grin. 

"It usually isn't! But sometimes the mood hits me with a yaoi paddle and I just have to!" 

"And the paddle told you to go with that ship?" Virgil asked and bit his thumb. 

"Nope. That was my choice." 

"Why?" 

"Well it's a rare pair and all—" Remus hesitated, "And I like it." 

Virgil waited and chewed his nail. Remus didn't get nervous but Virgil could feel his anxiety rising. Whatever had Remus worried, it had to be big. 

"Uh, mayyyybe you should come in and sit down," Remus winced and rubbed his neck. He was terrified. 

"I'm not mad that you wrote it," Virgil said and stepped forward. Remus didn't relax when he let Virgil in. 

His room was startlingly neat and organized. He kept all his weapons on one wall, his desk against the opposite wall, and his bed against the back wall. There wasn't a single paper out of place and all of his books were organized on a shelf over his desk. 

Virgil sat down on the desk chair and watched Remus close the door and pace. 

"You're not mad, but are you disgusted, repulsed?" Remus asked as he paced, walking heel to toe and turning after ten steps. 

"No. But I wanted to know," Virgil said and rolled his neck, "was it just for shits and giggles or is there more to it?" 

"Shits and giggles? I write smut and gore for shits and giggles," Remus said and stopped pacing. He sighed and let his shoulders sag. He couldn't brush this off with humor and impulse like his thoughts. 

"I don't want you to hate me for this, I just got you back," he wilted more, "I have feelings for you, not just platonic or sexual feelings. And with the way Pissy goes on about it, I don't really want to feel heartbroken. Not with the way my thinker thinks." 

Virgil stood up and sighed. Remus braced himself for the worst. Virgil was going to sink out and never talk to him again. Or he'd beat the dukey out of him. 

Remus was stunned when he felt two strong arms around his waist. Virgil was hugging him? 

"I—I like you too. A lot," Virgil mumbled by his ear, as if he were afraid that Remus wouldn't hear him. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah. And thanks for not making me a softboi in your fic." 

Remus giggled and hugged him back. 

"I don't have feelings for a softboi, I have feelings for a scary, sassy, sweetheart with a mean streak and the sexiest glare! And I want to make him my boyfriend." 

"Then do it," Virgil huffed. 

"Is there a ritual or something or do I just ask? I don't know how to do this stuff outside of fiction!" Remus laughed shyly. 

"Remus," Virgil sighed and tried to pull away. Remus whined pitifully and let him go, only for Virgil to grab his hand. 

"Will you be my boyfriend?" he asked and tried to hold Remus' gaze. Remus giggled and beamed at him. 

"Of course!" Remus said and jolted when Virgil cupped his cheek. 

"This is usually the part where we're supposed to kiss, but we don't have to if you don't want to," Virgil said softly. 

"What if you don't want to?" 

"I wouldn't've said anything if I didn't."

Remus turned his head and kissed Virgil's palm before nuzzling into the touch and staring at him innocently. 

"I want to. More than I want you to pin me down, whip me, and shove your—" Remus started to say, just to get cut off by a soft kiss. 

"Don't ruin the moment yet," Virgil muttered. 

"I'm gonna make the moment escalate!" Remus giggled and kissed him again. Virgil pulled him closer and hoisted him up by the thighs. Remus squeaked and pulled back with a wry grin.

“Not if I make it escalate first,” Virgil jeered and stuck out his tongue. Remus giggled and licked his tongue. 

“Bring it on, Scare Bear!” Remus taunted. He was happy to stay like this, or to do more, because in the end it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had a scary boyfriend who liked him back!

#dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #dukexietyweek2023 #day 8 #gore ment tw #sex mention tw

[oh-ranpo]

☾ -- pairing: dazai osamu x reader  ☾ -- a/n: so, I traveled over the weekend and I had this thought because I’m a nervous flyer and I’m kind of a whore for this asshole at the moment so.. enjoy 😂 18+ CONTENT. Minors DNI.

You’re a nervous flyer, and everyone knows that. 

So when Dazai says he’s booked a trip for the two of you that requires a fairly extensive flight you’re… nervous to say the least.

You’re nauseous and can’t sleep the entire night before though you do your best to hide it.

The flight is early the next morning but Dazai is slow moving and so you show up and get through security with only a little of time to spare (only adding to your anxiety)

Just about 10 minutes before it’s time to board the plane you excuse yourself to the bathroom

Because having to use the plane bathroom is unacceptable so this is your last chance before your long flight.

Internally, you feel like a tornado is raging inside your stomach and like you could be sick any moment.

However, Dazai is excited and so you’re going to be too.

If your racing heart doesn’t kill you first.

Once you use the bathroom, you step back into the main concourse and immediately have someone tugging on your arm.

You start to yell before you turn and see it’s Dazai and he’s dragging you around the corner into an unoccupied hallway.

In seconds, he has you pinned against the wall and a wicked smile spreads across his face.

“Dazai, what are you-“

You don’t get to finish your question before he’s kissing you with an intensity that has your toes curling.

Normally you love having his lips on yours and his body caging you against a surface of any kind but you’re in a public space and so you shove him away as best you can.

“This is an airport,” you huff, earning an amused laugh in response.

“And you’re way too nervous for this wonderful vacation, so I figured I would try and help with that, belladonna.”

He’s kissing you again right after and as he presses into you more, you find yourself starting to melt into him.

He swears he only has one supernatural ability but the way he is able to make you so pliable to his every whim has to be something beyond just regular human powers.

But then his hands trail down between your legs and you’re trying to put distance between you again.

“Someone is going to see!”

“Exciting, isn’t it? But I also don’t care.”* And when your hand drops away from his arm, his smile returns even brighter than before and his fingers are slipping past the waistband of your shorts.

A strangled moan forms in your throat when he touches you and his lips are soon on your throat, driving you absolutely crazy.

The edge of his bandages near his wrist rub against the inside of your thighs, the feeling both familiar and a little irritating. Not that you were one to complain in such a situation.

“Dazai,” you groan as one of his fingers slips inside of you, quickly followed by another. 

Your mind is completely gone at this point and all you’re focused on is more.

Luckily, he seems to read your mind as he pushes your shorts down further just as your hands reach for the zipper of his pants.

You’re certifiably insane for going along with him on this but now you can’t help yourself.

Besides, this corner of the airport is barely used. All of the gates are closed and you’re tucked away enough that no one could truly see you if they were just walking by.

Or could they?

The question flits from your mind quickly as you finally undo the button on his pants and you’re pushing them down just as he presses in closer to you.

“You’re so agreeable, my love,” he coos as he kisses you hastily once more before lifting one of your legs so it can wrap around his waist. “Such a good girl for me.”

You groan at his words as your hands wrap around his length. His hips stuttering against your palm as his head falls to your shoulder.

“Such a good girl.”

Your other leg soon joins the first around his waist, and you’re guiding him into you, the familiar stretch of him soon greeting you as your head falls back against the wall.

“Fuck,” you breathe as you adjust to him, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks again.

“Such a potty mouth. Where did my good girl go?” he teases and the roll of your eyes is interrupted as he pushes into you fully, causing them to go wide instead.

“Shut up and move,” you huffed as your hands gripped his shoulders tightly. 

Now that he was inside of you, he had all the power, but he knew exactly what to do with it.

His thrusts were quick but steady, and the angle he had was just enough to tease the spot inside of you where you wanted him most.

To stifle the moans that were bubbling up in your throat, you leaned forward and pressed your face into his neck, your teeth skimming his skin whenever he would hit an exceptionally good spot and you had to keep yourself from crying out.

It wasn’t long before the boarding announcement for your plane was being made over the intercom, and Dazai’s pace quickened.

Your head lifted just in time to see the playful glint in his eye before he kisses you sloppily.

“Better hurry up or we’re going to be late to our plane,” he grinned, and he maneuvered one of his hands between your bodies so that his fingers could brush across your clit while also adjusting his hips just enough so that he could hit that spot deep inside of you that had you seeing stars.

“Oh my God,” you cried out, probably louder than you should have but Dazai didn’t hush you.

Instead, he sped up his motions and within a few more seconds, you were cumming with him following just after. 

His hips pushed up against yours a few more times before he was slowly lowering you back to the ground.

As you pulled your shorts up, you started back towards the bathroom to clean yourself up, but Dazai stopped you before you could get too far.

“We don’t have time,” he told you with another bright smile. “but if you meet me in the bathroom once we take off, I can help you clean up.” He added the second part with a wink and you couldn’t stop yourself from scoffing.

“In the airplane lavatory? Dream on, Dazai.”

He was right, however, that you didn’t have time. Final boarding was being announced and you had to get to the plane. Now.

Once Dazai’s pants were fixed, he reached for your hand and started leading you back towards your gate.

“Still nervous?” he asked and it was then that you realized what his plan had been.

But, if you were being honest, you discovered that you weren’t nervous at all anymore. 

It was hard to be when you were still coming down from the high that he had given you just moments before.

His distraction had been a success. 

And you planned on showing him how appreciative you were the moment you landed.

#dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #dazai headcanons #dazai osamu headcanon #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs headcanon #bsd headcanon #dazai smut #dazai imagine #osamu dazai imagine #dazai osamu imagine #bungo stray dogs imagine #bsd imagine #anime headcanon

[thatanimewriter]

SWEET!

➳ request: hello! may i req a scenario of s/o baking and having isshiki do a taste test? thank you

➳ character/s: isshiki satoshi

➳ warnings: swearing, fluff, hand holding, me shoving australian things into as many fics as possible (lamingtons)

➳ word count: 0.7k

➳ notes: sorry for the waittt, i’ve just finished up year 12 (final year of school) and have been PROCRASTINATING. idk what this is, i was inspired and just wrote shit down

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  

you and isshiki had very different cooking styles. which actually made for a really nice home situation, because isshiki could cook all the savoury dishes, and you got to make desserts and such. although, you seemed to be most popular for your pastries.

on the night of the moon festival, you found no problems with passing, but... the worst part was figuring out what to sell. thankfully, your loving boyfriend was willing to be your taste-tester. and possible garbage can.

“what are you gonna do for the moon festival?” isshiki asked, draping an arm over your shoulders as you skimmed over your notebook full of recipes you’d curated over the years. subconsciously, you leaned into him as you sighed, finding it hard to narrow down any recipes.

“i’m gonna have a selection of baked goods, but i can’t for the life of me decide on which ones. they’ve all done really well whenever i’ve shared them with the dorm,” you explained, closing your notebook and dropping your pen on top of the cover.

“guess you’ll have to do them all, huh?”

“noooo, that’ll take me a fucking millennia. i want to at least get 10 recipes so that i have enough variation to appeal to a larger audience.” reopening your book, you scanned over the pages, mentally keeping track of any similar ingredients that would save you space and any recipes that could be easily mass produced.

“maybe try recipes from other cultures? people could find japanese pastries pretty much anywhere, you could save them the flight if you had them available,” he suggested, gently rubbing your arm with his thumb.

“yeah, that could work actually,” you replied, flicking through the notebook to find the international recipes you had written down. “i think i’ll just make all the recipes i have that are international and see how it goes from there...”

“sweet!”

you paused at isshiki’s response, frowning as his grin grew tenfold. “never make that pun again.”

“nah.”

following you down to the kitchen, he watched as you began to make large mounds of dough and a frankly ridiculous amount of bowls filled with different batter. his curious eyes watched as you poured all the mixture into the various pans you’d bought, but he made his move when he saw you head to the sink with the bowls.

“isshiki?” you glanced at his hand that laid on your shoulder before it trailed down to grab your hand. in your distracted state, he took the bowls from you and returned to his place by one of the kitchen counters, dipping his finger into one of them and licking the batter off.

“let me lick the bowl.”

you chuckled at his childish behaviour before nodding and pushing the mountain of bowls his way. “have at it, though i worry you’ll be full from batter and have no room for the actual treats.”

isshiki pressed his lips to a thin line as he pondered your concerns. “what’s gonna be the first thing ready?”

“probably lamingtons.”

“...it’s ok, i’ll make room.”

as you continued to whip up a whirlwind of sweet treats, isshiki saved you a lot of time with cleaning, as a lot of the batter from the bowls he could manage were almost void of batter in the first place. the only thing you really had to wash off was his spit. gross.

“lamingtons are done, my love,” you said, sliding a plate his way. he visibly perked up as he looked at the sponge cake covered in the chocolate glaze and shredded coconut. as he took a bite, you watched with anticipation, biting your lip as you watched the seventh seat taste your food.

“it’s so soft...” he mumbled, squishing the sponge cake slightly. “have you had one yet?”

“no, not yet, but i will in a mome-” isshiki promptly cut you off by pulling you in for a kiss, the remnants of your creation playing on his lips. “i could’ve just gotten one myself,” you said, ignoring the heat that rose to your cheeks at his boldness.

“but it’s not as fun, besides, you’ve been ignoring me for hours to bake. i deserve some attention,” isshiki pouted. “take a break!”

“i would, but i have a strawberry and macadamia costata coming out of the oven in 3, 2, 1.” when you stopped counting, the alarm you were expecting rang through the kitchen.

“after this one?” isshiki whined, following you to the oven.

“nope, got more stuff coming out of the ovens soon.”

“ugh... stupid baking and stealing my partner’s attention from me.”

#shokugeki no soma #food wars #isshiki satoshi #shokugeki no soma x reader #food wars x reader #isshiki satoshi x reader #shokugeki no soma imagines #food wars imagines #isshiki satoshi imagines

[donteatthefishtacos]

Stockings

Hi hi,

My contribution to @12daysofhatchetfield

Day 1 - Stocking

Barneston - 676 words

Becky bit down on her lower lip to stifle a smile and tried to focus all her attention on the book in her hands when Tom lumbered slowly back down the stairs.

An afternoon of decorating for Christmas had effectively worn Tim out earlier than normal, so Tom carried him up to bed sound asleep. Becky had had to keep from smiling at the spectacle of a gangly eleven year old being carried up two flights of stairs. Not long after Tom disappeared up the stairs, she heard the shower turn on. She had used the distraction to her advantage, too, and pulled a grocery sack from one of the kitchen cabinets. And with a racing heart, she hung the items she had purchased a few days before on the mantle.

A quiet groan as Tom descended the last few stairs caused her to divert the attention she had so carefully kept on the book she had picked up from the side table. She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Everything okay over there?”

He let out a quiet chuckle in response and stretched his arms up over his head. A flush rose to Becky’s cheeks at the way the short sleeves hugged his arms when he did, and then his eyes fell on her. Warm and sparkling in the fire he had lit before dinner. 

“Yeah, just sore,” he responded softly and his footsteps padded over the rug as he made his way to the couch and sank down next to her. “May have to recruit Tim to do some of the shoveling now,” he added. “I might be getting too old for all that.”

His eyes fell on the book she had picked up out of pure pretense and his eyes narrowed down at it as a half of a smile quirked up on his face. Becky finally took notice of the title, ‘Coraline’. She let out a huff of a laugh as she realized she had picked up Tim’s library book. She risked a glance up at Tom, who searched her face curiously, but didn’t say anything about it.

Becky cleared her throat, and ignored the pounding of her heart against her ribs. “I put the stockings up while you were in the shower.”

His eyes had yet to leave her face, though, and the blush on her cheeks somehow deepened a bit more. 

Once he registered her words he breathed out a quiet, “Oh,” and stood up to get a better look at the fireplace behind them. She bit down on her lip as his brows furrowed, “Did you get new ones?” Indeed, the ones she had picked out were part of a set, red and black plaid she intended to get embroidered eventually.

He glanced back down at her then and she found her voice just wouldn’t respond, so she nodded instead while her heartbeat roared in her ears.

His eyes narrowed a bit further. There it is.

“There’s four.”

A flock of butterflies erupted in her gut. “Mmhmm,” she muttered as she watched him make the connection.

All at once his eyebrows shot up and he looked down at her with his mouth ajar. He closed it and opened it a few times without uttering a sound and she was just about to ask him to say something, anything, when he let out a bark of a laugh and knelt down on the floor in front of her.

“Really?,” he asked her barely above a whisper. “We just started trying.”

Becky couldn’t hold back a laugh as a few tears dropped onto her cheeks. She leaned in to give him a kiss. “I guess we’re efficient,” she whispered back right up against his mouth.

He laughed in return and placed another quick kiss before he leaned back on his heels. His eyes roamed over her face for a moment and all the things she thought she’d want to say flew right out the window. “I love you,” she eventually settled on in a voice barely above a whisper.

#12 days of hatchetfield #Barneston #Hatchetfield #fanfic

[casspurrjoybell-25]

The Healer of Shakkara - Book One

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 25 - The Haven - Part 2

They took a different path that led them up a flight of wide, shallow stone steps to another structure, tucked back beneath a grove of colorful trees.

It had the same open plan as the other buildings they'd seen, with carved pillars of light wood, stone floors and arched doorways. Circular in shape, it had a peaked, overhanging roof... within, a dozen simple, clean beds lined the walls.

They each dropped their things by their bed of choice before following Anira from the 'house' and out into a secluded courtyard.

"You may bathe here," she said, pointing to where a stream spilled from a fissure of stone into a natural basin with a small hole in the bottom.

She held up a circle of wood attached to a chain.

"Plug the hole with this and the basin fills. The water's naturally warm. Empty and refill as needed. I'll have some food brought over as well. But first..."

She turned to Sev.

"Why don't you tell me what you're up to, Sevhalim and what the Order wants with this boy."

She jerked her head at Galen.

"Don't think it escaped me. I saw the way you looked when Hadrix mentioned the P'Yrha. Is that what you think you've got here?"

Sevhalim only hesitated half a breath before answering.

"Yes. And I need to get him over the mountains and into Sakkara. So, you see my dilemma."

"Not entirely."

"P'Yrha or not, he's a talented healer," said Rea.

"But magic demands its price. If he heals Iksthanis, he will not be fit to travel for some days, at least and in that time, the snows may block the pass."

"Not 'if,'" Galen argued. "I will heal him. I will try, at least."

Anira raised a grey eyebrow at him.

"You think you have a say in the matter?"

"I..." Galen glanced at Sev and saw a muscle tick in the side of his jaw.

"There's no 'matter' to discuss. If I don't help him, he will die."

"A Hand's duty comes before his heart, always," Anira said.

"Never doubt it. If the choice is your friend's life or making the pass before it closes, you may be sure which he will choose."

"And what of you, Anira?" Sev asked sharply.

"Everyone believes you are dead. Is it not your duty to return to Jana Val and serve if you are able?"

She laughed bitterly.

"Yes. But here's the thing, Sevhalim... they lied to us. Our lives are not bound to the Order's will. They stole our lives, stole our souls, dipped us into hell and brought us back as beasts... as slaves... neither dead nor truly living... doomed to destroy ourselves if we use the one 'gift' we are given. We owe them nothing."

She took a breath, nostrils flaring and Galen saw little sparks of blue fire lighting the whites of her eyes.

They quickly faded and when she spoke again, it was in a much calmer tone.

"This place is a haven," she went on.

"For people like us. Almost everyone here has served the Order in the past, in some capacity. Some are Hands... some are not. Most of us are content to live out our days here, free from the Order's watching eyes... others take a more active 'hand' as it were, in discovering and hindering their plans. I took a great risk in bringing you here, even blindfolded and I will be held responsible if harm comes of it. I hope you will prove I still have good judgement and have not fallen victim to sentimentality in my old age."

Sev shook his head.

"I can promise nothing until I understand. Then you will have my honest answer and may act as you see fit."

She nodded.

"Good. We will speak later... Hand to Hand. But first, bathe and rest. Food will be sent over shortly. I will return in a few hours. Then you will know all you wish."

She began to walk away but Sev called after her.

"Wait, Anira."

She turned.

"Yes?"

"Galen does not eat meat. Can you make sure there is enough food for him?"

She regarded him for a moment in silence, then spoke in a slightly colder tone.

"He shall have as much as the rest of you. No one here eats meat. Not since the barrowlings began decimating the game, at least."

"Barrowlings? Beyond the Pinedark?" Rea asked.

"What did you think those nets were for?" Anira asked, angling a brow at her.

"Or why we insisted you be so quiet on the journey here? You are fortunate not to have encountered them."

"Fortunate," Triss scoffed, speaking up for the first time.

"We slew two dozen of their number, at least and thought we had lost one of ours."

Anira nodded.

"That explains why they've been so quiet the last few days. They've been sated but now they're on the move again. We think they're using the natural cave systems to spread. Another sign of the Imbalance, maybe."

"All the more reason to get Galen to Jana Val as quickly as possible," Rea said, lifting her chin.

"You think that will help?" Anira asked in a deceptively soft tone.

"I think the opposite. But we will save that discussion until you are clean and rested and able to think with a clear head."

She turned again and left and in the ensuing silence everyone tended to their own things... unpacking their knapsacks and drawing straws to decide the order in which they would use the bath.

All the while, Galen stuck close to Triss and Behn and kept his eyes on Sev.

He had a feeling things were about to change.

Whatever happened, he would heal Iksthanis if he could... Hands and the Order be damned.

First, though... Hand or not... he would hear what Anira had to say to Rea and Sev. 

[shae-la-hyene]

Top 5 villains that are truly scaring me

They're here, they're queer. I am human and I have fears and the writers that created those villains just struck right on them.

5 The hunters from Bambi

I HATE hunting and hunters more than life. Which says a lot.

I grew up next to a forest, with pets, and I remember hearing the gunshots when the hunting season started, and be terrified, keeping my cats close in fear of them being a 'casualty'. Hunters here are all old bigoted assholes who drink half their weight in cheap wine and go in their merry way to kill everything that moves in the woods. I hate them and I have always had the deep sated fear of one day being killed by one, and be called a hunting accident that people don't care about. I don't live near that forest anymore so the likelihood of that has dropped, but the sight and mention of hunters or hunting still prompts that fight or flight response.

4 The judge and jury from Paranorman

Laika knows how to make their villains, there's no doubt in that. The trial members, judge and jury, condemning a little girl, they terrified me. Being different is a crime. Being just different enough to make people uncomfortable could very well end up with your murdered, and the law that was meant to protect you will wipe your murderers' hands clean. It's not a new concept, but I've always been the weird one everywhere I went, especially in childhood and adolescence in a small village then town. I've always carried with it the knowledge that anytime the majority is against me, rules will change and bent to give their reason when they assault and hurt me. The world is unfair, and if I understood it early, I was never fully able to accept it...

3 Monstro (the whale) from Pinocchio

I always wanted to be a mermaid. Went to biology uni in the great plan to make a live tail that could allow a human to be adapted to underwater life. But one thing was never going to work out. I have a deep, instinctual fear of deep waters and whatever giants they contain. Being faced to face with a monster like that whale, I would freeze and be killed instantly. I could never swim fast enough to escape it. I couldn't run, I'd be powerless against a giant. Also the animation of it in Pinocchio (which was pretty fucking scary all on its own) was great and violent and powerful, which accentuated that fear in me.

2 The Other Mother from Coraline

Again, Laika is gooooood at making villains that scare the crap out of me. But as awesome as Laika's version is, it's surprisingly soft compared to the orginal book. Having loved the movie, I made the mistake of reading the book. I was scared shitless for weeks. No offense, Neil, but DON'T READ IT AS AN ADULT ! Apparently it passes better when you're a kid, even if it's not, you know, not scary. But as an adult it's blood-curdling. Still have nightmares. Which, weirdly enough, have nothing to do with the 'spider' aesthetic the Other Mother has in the movie. I'm violently arachnophobic yet this one didn't trigger it.

Honorable mentions :

The Aunt and cats from Lady and the Tramp : once again, unfairness has a face. They are the good ones, and no matter the crap they do behind closed curtains, they look all good and proper and that's all that matters, right ? You, imperfect and unproper as you are, must be the one responsible. You'll be the one punished.

Rasputin from Anastasia : I love him, don't get me wrong. He's fabulous and awesome. But first I really, really don't like corpses of any kind. And second, Anastasia may be extremely lucky but I am extremely unlucky. If Rasputin decided to kill me, I'd be dead by the end of the day.

1 Gaston from Beauty and the Beast

Society, people, they love him. (Also why the live action sucks)

I get it. He's beautiful, successful, strong, rich, he's perfect in any way. All you can hope for in a man and husband.

That man can never do wrong, and they'll follow his lead. He's brave, it must be a worthy fight he'd asking of them.

How can that man not be right, after all ?

I know Gaston. I met him before. I'll meet him again. And each time I have the terrifying thought "if he assaults me, nobody will side with me." If Gaston forces himself on someone, and it turns sour, it's the victim's fault. One way or another.

After all, how can that man not be right ?

Also see : Top ten Villain songs, Top ten sad songs, Top ten romantic songs, Top ten intros that slap, Top ten pretty songs, Top ten not-that-bad sequel, Top ten worse sequels

#disney #laika #disney villains #laika animation #bambi #paranorman #coraline #beauty and the beast #gaston #pinocchio #anastasia #rasputin #lady and the tramp

[fbfh]

your opinion is wrong - paxton hall yoshida x reader

wc: 1.4k

pairing: paxton x shy!fem!reader (she/her)

genre: angst with a fluffy ending

warnings: moderate upsetting bullying, reader has been bullied in the past, lightly implied neurodivergant reader (hyperfixations/socializing does not come naturally) but could also be social anxiety so it's open to interpretation, warror cats and my little pony slander, mention of being on adderall as a joke, reader has something akin to an anxiety attack and has to leave a party (also open to interpretation), reader hears male voices yelling in the distance, paxton is a loving and protective boyf, trent is the ultimate homeboy

summary: when the party you're at takes a turn for the worse, paxton is there to stand up for you and help you turn the night around.

song rec: the first song or two of your comfort album

mine are this december - ricky montgomery, and are you satisfied - marina (tw for possibly upsetting lyrics)

a/n: I don't remember specifically getting bullied but I also don't remember a lot of my childhood so who knows

anyway I hope you like this!! paxton is a good boyfriend

also!! not proofread cause I'm incapable of doing that ig :/

“Nah dude, I can just tell,” Ethan, one of the guys from the swim team says, “she was totally one of those kids that were like… really into like, warrior cats, or some shit,” his words taper off as he holds back a laugh.

You’re close enough to hear what he’s saying, and you’re sure he has to be aware of this. You continue scrolling through your phone, not paying attention to what you’re looking at, trying to seem busy and not uncomfortable. You hope it looks convincing. You look behind you, trying to seem inconspicuous. Paxton should be back with your drinks any minute.

“Like,” he adorns a falsetto valley girl voice, overexaggerated mannerisms punctuating his words, “that’s bright star, the bitchiest tabby from the rival clan… we’ve been feuding since that slut stole my sardines.”

You don’t even remember that much of the warrior cats books you happened to read in elementary school, and even you know that’s not at all accurate. You continue to sit in painful silence, those familiar hot waves of shame beginning to come over you.

“Or like, fuckin’,” he continues, feeding off the laughter he’s drawing from the group surrounding him, “my little pony or some shit. Like, hi hi, I’m pinky cakes and I’m on adderall!” he continues in a shrill falsetto, letting out a torrent of high pitched giggles.

You stare right through your phone, trying your hardest to ignore the mockery falling thoughtlessly from his lips. It’s really unnecessary. You know you’re quiet, you’re perfectly aware of how much you struggle to socialize the way most people seem to effortlessly. Sure, you take solace in the escapism you find in books and movies and tv shows, you have since you were little, but that doesn’t mean that you - or anyone for that matter - should be ridiculed for it. You can’t count the amount of comfort shows or little hobbies you’ve had to drop cold turkey because someone mocked them and you couldn’t look at them without triggering shame and guilt spirals.

You feel like you’re going to throw up. Your fight or flight response begins to act up, and you jiggle your leg, trying to deny the urge to run as fast and as far as you can.

“Fuckers naruto running through the halls,”

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it...

“-the most annoying type of person,”

You have to get out of here right now.

The instinct consumes you, and you stand up, bolting to the door as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. You angle your head down, hoping no one will see the tense, scrunched up look on your face you’re trying desperately to control, or the wall of tears, growing and blurring your vision into swirling abstract colors. You’re glad you already knew where the door was, or navigating your way through the sea of people would be impossible.

“Hey.”

A hand reaches for your arm. Normally you would dodge gracefully, nothing coming in between you and your need to escape, but you immediately recognize the hand as Paxton’s. Your brain stalls, that disgusting feeling still fully saturating your body, and you freeze at the contact. You don’t look at him. His stomach drops.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, in more of a statement, coming closer to you. He hands the drinks he was holding to a passerby, who replies with a ‘thanks man,’ and continues on his way.

Paxton is already in front of you, a hand coming up to rest comfortingly on his cheek. One look at your face and he understood instantly.

“Can we just go home?” you try to say, but your throat tightens up as soon as you begin, cutting off your words. He understands in spite of this, and is already leading you to his car.

He opens the passenger side, helping you in and buckling your seatbelt. He turns to you before he closes the door.

“I’m going to go say bye to Trent and Marcus real quick, I’ll be right back. Why don’t you pick out some music?” He offers, giving you a tender kiss on the cheek and a reassuring squeeze to your hand. You nod, and he closes the door.

You pair your phone with his car speakers, and scroll through your saved playlist. You pause, realizing exactly what you need, and start playing one of your favorite comfort albums. You lipsync along to the words, the familiar words and melody, even the order of the songs providing an immediate sense of relief. You take deep breaths along with the music, heart rate starting to slow, emotions beginning to settle.

You open the window slightly, feeling grounded and refreshed by the cool night air. Before you can take two breaths, the sound of yelling emanates from the house, just audible over the synth pop dance track playing on the multiple speakers inside. Your whole body tenses automatically, and you roll the window back up, turning your attention back on the music. A few minutes later, the driver’s side door opens, and Paxton slides in. He takes your hand.

“Are you okay?” he says gently, but not patronizing. You can tell he’s sincere. “Trent told me what happened.”

You let out a shaky deliberate sigh, squeezing his big hand with your shaking one.

“Why… does this always happen?” you say quietly, “Right when I think-” You cut yourself off, thoat closing up as tears well in your eyes again. You look down, focusing on your breath.

Paxton traces his thumb over your knuckles.

“Those guys are assholes.” He says definitely, “You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met, princess,” his free hand rests on your cheek, turning your face towards him. He doesn’t make you look at him, just presses a warm kiss to your forehead.

“They also think dumb and dumber and beevis and butthead are cinematic genius. I don’t trust their taste in movies, or people.”

You let out a weepy laugh, and you can both tell you’re feeling better.

“You wanna go home, play some video games?”

You nod gently.

“We can play genshin impact…” he tantalizes, and you smile.

“You really want to see me fly off cliffs and scream at every hilichurl that appears?”

You both laugh.

“I always want to watch you cliff dive and collect fruit and plants.” You smile.

He pulls out of the driveway, and you decide on where to get food before going back to his place. Paxton orders for you, and you wait until your order is called. His phone rings, and he answers the call from Trent.

“Mission accomplished bro. Me and Marcus kicked those douchebags out, and sent the vid to coach. Their asses will get benched at best.”

He lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks Trent.”

You look up at him.

“Everything okay?” You ask. He looks down at your sparkly eyes, your hands holding onto his arm, and his heart squeezes.

“Yeah, Trent’s just checking that we got home okay.”

“Tell him I say hi,” you say, turning back to your phone. He relays the message, and goes to pick up your food.

Soon you’re curled up on his couch, button smashing your way through a domain, yelling at monsters, with Paxton cheering you on. Your legs are thrown over his lap, his hand squeezing your thigh in encouragement.

“Sorry!” you yell, finally wearing down a monster to zero hp. He watches you, enthralled by the game, enthralled by life. Your beauty, all aspects and facets of it, are so blindingly obvious to him, how could anyone not see it? It really makes no sense to him, solidifying the feeling of needing to protect you, the way you care for and nurture a beautiful flower garden.

“Yes!” you cheer, completing the level. You throw your arms around him, and he holds you tight.

“I’ve never won that fast,” you say, a blinding smile on your face.

“I know,” he says, his expression mirroring yours, “that was amazing, babe.”

“I still can’t believe that happened,” you muse. Overcome with love and adoration for you, Paxton pulls you in close, catching your lips with his. After a moment, he pulls away. You look down, cheeks warm.

Ever since your first kiss, he’s wondered how long that feeling would last. At this point, watching you giggle, and bury your face in the crook of his neck, he thinks that maybe it never will. He hopes he’s right.

#paxton hall yoshida x reader #paxton hall yoshida #never have i ever x reader #never have i ever #nhie #nhie x reader #paxton x reader