#this is inspired by my life…there was a dog right outside my bedroom for a month that wouldn’t stop barking…

[bishy437]

jwy: go anywhere near that dog and i’ll break both your legs

nhs: goodness, we’ve only just woken up and already you’re threatening me!

(no huaisangs or dogs were harmed!!)

#just nhs being bitchy in the morning lmaoooo #don’t disturb his sleep fairy!!!! #this is inspired by my life…there was a dog right outside my bedroom for a month that wouldn’t stop barking… #obligatory pls don’t steal my tags tag <3 #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #jin ling #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #sangcheng #mine

[chrisevansonly]

Surprise!

Dad!Chris Evans x Wife!Reader (Little Duck AU🐥💛)

Summary: The story of finding out you were pregnant with Arlie Mae and the excitement Chris had knowing his biggest dream was coming true; he was going to be a father

Warnings: pregnancy and baby talks (if that’s a warning lol) very fluffy, Chris cries, cause let’s be honest he will cry, just overall sweet

A/N: I wanted to start from the beginning where Momma and Chris found out they were expecting, it’s just a very cute little pregnancy reveal, I get all sappy imagining what his reaction would be to finding out he was going to be a dad, so here it is, I’m sorry if it’s a little short, I’m still not feeling the best<3

Word Count: 656

Seeing the two bold lines staring back at you on the pregnancy test that sat on the counter stopped your heart for a few seconds before tears filled your eyes. This was something you and Chris had been dreaming for since you got married two years ago, and you couldn’t believe it was finally becoming a reality. 

When you pulled it together a few minutes later you started to think about how you were going to tell Chris. You didn’t want to be super sappy, but you ended up taking inspiration from something you’d seen on Instagram. Of course, you wanted to include dodger in the announcement, so you set off to gather everything you needed to make this announcement. You went to Target and then a local craft store to get the rest of your supplies before hiding in your shared bedroom to get to work. 

You picked up a few onesies that were newborn size, and got a chalkboard that you wrote on, the message saying “every dog, needs a baby…’ written across it, it was cute and straight to the point. You’d add the positive test to the rest of your supplies when Chris got home. 

-

It was around 3:30 in the afternoon when you heard Chris’s Audi lock outside, the door opening and closing as well as the happy barks coming from Dodger as his favourite person walked through the door. It was quiet for a few short minutes before you heard Chris call for you

“Honey?’

“Upstairs baby!”

You were sitting behind your little baby set up, nerves suddenly pulling at your chest as his footsteps got closer and closer. You knew he’d be excited but there was still the tiniest part of you that remained nervous.

“There you are, how was-”

He froze eyes looking down to read the sign and you watched his eyes fill with tears, yours following suit 

“Shut the fuck up…”

You let out a tearful laugh 

“Are you joking…? Please tell me you’re not joking baby please…” 

“I’m not joking honey…it’s very real”

You wiped your cheeks with the backs of your hands before Chris made it to you, pulling you into his chest, his head falling to the crook of your neck, your t-shirt dampening as he cried, happy tears of course. Your hands rubbing up and down his back soothingly, soon enough he pulled away to hold your face in his hands and press his lips to yours firmly. Pouring all of his love and excitement into the kiss, you couldn’t help the smile that broke out 

“We’re having a baby?”

“We’re having a baby my love...”

His hands moved to rest on your stomach as he shook his head in disbelief before laughing

“I can’t fucking believe it, oh my god…I’ve gotta tell my mom!” 

Your laughter filled the room before gently taking Chris’s face in your hands, smiling at him 

“I love you, and I love your excitement, but can we wait until after the first ultrasound? I want to make sure everything is healthy…”

Chris nodded quickly his brows furrowing in concentration

“You’re right, yeah no we can do that, I’m getting ahead of myself, I love you too baby”

“I don’t mind honey, you’re just excited! As soon as we know everything is healthy, you can go crazy and tell whoever you want, deal?”

“Deal.” 

The rest of the night was filled with lots of hugs, kisses, and excitement for the future of your family that was now growing to bring life to what you’d eventually find out would be your daughter Arlie. Chris was so excited he’d already started to look at nursery inspiration, the best midwifes in the Boston area, and of course ordering all the parenting books he could think of. He was more than ready to become a father, and there’s no one else in the world you’d want to be a parent with. 

#chris evans x arlie mae #chris evans x little duck💛🐥 #chris evans x momma evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans x fluff #chris evans x female reader #rueswrites #chris evans x pregnant!reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fic #chris evans fluff

[treysimp]

Like Dogs and… Cats. 

Oneshot: GN!Reader/Jack (Rated T)

Please read the inspiration for this post at the end. It had me in stitches. Anon, thank you for your service and harrowing story. You are a hero.

That said, let’s get on with this! 

Tags: Smooching, suggestive themes, GN!Reader, reader’s body not described, some spicy stuff but a bit more focus on comedy and silliness.

Want more TWST? Here's my Masterlist!

It has been an eventful day. You and Jack had gone shopping under the premise of looking for outfits in town for a school event, but it ended up being an all day affair: shopping, romantic candlelit dinner, a walk in the park at twilight, and now you were here. 

Both of you stood awkwardly outside the Ramshackle Dorm, staring at your shoes and trying to figure out how best to cut into the weird tension that had been building while you silently walked home together. 

Pausing at your door, you and Jack seem to have the same thought as you simultaniously say:

“Can I come in?"

“Do you want to come in?"

Both of you exclaim a soft ‘oh’. 

You laugh at your collective nervousness and Jack takes that as permission to come inside, both of you smiling in quiet embarrassment. 

You walk into your kitchen and remove your jacket, hanging it on the back of the chair you eat at. Walking up to the cubbord that held your tea-bags, coffee, and drink-mixes, you begin rummaging for something appropriate to drink in the evening.

“Do you want tea or…” You begin, but you are quickly cut off.

“Actually I…” Jack’s face is heated, his eyes are uncharacteristically intense, and his adorable silver ears are at full attention, like little fluffy satellites. “I wanted to have something else.” 

Your hands began shaking as you silently prayed that he meant what he thought you meant, and you nodded silently. 

You timidly offered your hand to Jack, and felt relief wash over you when his warm hand enveloped yours in response. 

Audibly swallowing, you led Jack up the stairs to your less-than-impressive bedroom, trying to come up with excuses he might believe just in case you had misinterpreted the situation, just in case.

However, based on the fact that Jack tackled you onto your bed as soon as your door was shut, you had a sneaking suspicion that your hopeful guess was right on the money. 

The kisses you both shared were fast, breathy and full of energy. 

Jack was grasping at you mindlessly, sqeezing, massaging and pulling at the fabric of your clothing. Getting an idea, your hands reached for the hem of Jack’s shirt and gently tugged. 

Getting the message, he put his arms up to allow you to pull it off him. 

Mouth dry, you stared at the muscular planes of Jack's body in heated longing. 

As if hypnotizsed, you immediately set yourself on biting at his collarbones and working your way down. The thickness of his chest was mesmirizing, and you found your hands gravitating to his generous pecs to give them a firm squeeze as you continued making marks down his neck and dirifting your mouth slowly to his abs.

Jack’s breathing was growing all the more labored with each caress, and mirroring your movements from earlier, he began pulling the fabric from your body in turn, shedding layer by layer until you were both almost bare.

You thought this might just be the best day of your life. Nothing could ruin it! Unless… 

The door opened with a bang, and the culprit of said unceremonious door slamming quickly revealed themself.

“Get offa my henchman! You fiend! You beast!” You heard the voice exclaim, just a second too late for you to interfere or prevent this mess from happening. 

Jack gave a yelp of surprise and pain and immediately sprung off of you to try and remove the feral ball of grey that was attaching itself to his leg, swatting and swearing at the offending creature. 

“The great Grim ‘outta flambé your mangy ass!” Grim screeched, clawing at the back of Jack’s calves with fervor.  

You grabbed Grim by the scruff and glared at him with the most hatred your face could manage as he hung limply like a wet dish towel. Okay, that part was a little funny, so the hatred wasn’t as bad as it could have been. You went from hatred, to one step down: ‘pissed and mortified’. 

Taking this opportunity to escape, Jack grabbed his clothes off the floor and made a break for your bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. 

You were embarrassed, devastated, and ready to strangle your stupid little furbrained co-student. 

No matter how hilariously pathetic he looked right now.

“Just what do you think you are doing!?” You yelled, ignoring your lack of clothing by sheer force of extremely concentrated frustration with your little goblin of a roommate.

“I’ve had a bad feeling about him from the start! He smells bad! Dogs often bite people, ya know! He could have rabies! Or scabies! He could bite ya and turn you inta’ a dog too!” Grim wiggled uselessly in anger, punching his little arms like the world's tiniest boxer, trying to free himself from your grip and failing miserably. 

You sighed, this was going to have to be a conversation for another time.

Grumpily opening the door to your bedroom again and throwing Grim inside, (followed by a loud yowl and a string of explitatives that you had no idea he knew before now), you locked the bedroom door and stuffed a wedge under the gap to make sure that the little fluffy bastard didn’t just try to force his way back out again. Hopefully he could cool his little (literal) hot head for a while while you tried to do the same. 

You heard a loud clattering coming from the now-closed bathroom, and you approached slowly, calling out to (your friend? more?) Jack softly. You tried knocking on the door gently, slightly flinching at how loud it sounded in the otherwise quiet building.

“...Jack?” You called, heart sinking at how such a great time had gone awry because of your (lovable and protective, but also dumb as a rock) talking cat. 

There was silence, no response. Swallowing harshly, you checked the doorknob: it wiggled. 

Realizing the bathroom was unlocked, you timidly pushed it open, bracing yourself for an upset Jack.

The window was open in the bathroom, and Jack was nowhere to be seen. 

A small tuft of fur that had caught on the heavily splintered wood of the windowframe hinted at his escape route. You felt like crying.

Heart sinking, you buried your face in your hands with a groan. Now what were you supoosed to do? Tomorrow was Monday and you were going to see him in class. You wanted to scream.

A muffled ‘ding’ came from your discarded jacket in the kitchen. 

Desperate for the distraction, any distraction, you walk downstairs and grab your phone, swiping it open to view the notification. 

You were still mad at Grim. But at least he hadn’t ruined everything.

Yet.

(For those worried, I will give Jack a proper conclusion in the couch series, but like… I had to.)

I'm sorry Jack, you just were the boy that worked best with this joke.

So, for context. Here’s the anon that inspired this thing.

Anon, as you probably knew when you sent this to me, it sent me into hysterical laughter imagining any of the cats I have owned in my life having done this, and also I feel like there's is 100% a r/tifu page relaying the nameless guy’s side of this debacle. Truly incredible.

You can see I made the ending a little more hopeful but the meat of the story is there. Thank you again for making my day, Anon!

This edit below is for you babey!

Thanks for reading! Love you, reader!

-----

Requested tags: 

@readinganas, @yandere-kou, @daeda21, @buckketboy, @aikochan4859, @kumiko-desu, @ninjas-are-the-shit, @star-gods, @fragmentedstarlight, @naniky, @the-mermaid-of-the-stars

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #disney twst #twst reader insert #gender neutral reader #twst #jack howl x reader #jack howl x you #jack howl x y/n #jack twst #grim twst #grim art #grim twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland mc #twisted wonderland yuu

[mystery-moose]

WELL I WAS GONNA GO EAT BUT OKAY LETS DO THIS

Here's a snippet of "alternate meeting":

She was hurt. He could tell even before he noticed the tiny drops of blood on the hardwood. Partially because she should have caught him by now, should have rounded on him blade at the ready before smiling that smile that warmed his chest and telling him that she’d clocked him ages ago and saw right through the mask he was wearing. Instead, she was in the bathroom, washing her hands under too-hot water, breathing a little harder than she should. He made sure the first sound she noticed was his voice. “Princess.” She spun, and even injured, she was fast — her knife was pointed at him exactly where he stood in the dark bedroom, harsh white light bleeding in from the bathroom. Briefly, he saw her the way any other might: a desperate animal, claws out, backed into a corner. But she recognized his voice, and the muscles around her eyes softened. The predator, soothed, faded away.

I don't usually go in for pre-canon AUs, especially in ongoing works that aren't complete yet, because I feel like... I don't have all the toys in the toybox to play with yet? And I tend to want to stick to canon as much as I can, for whatever its worth. But I've seen a few other people tackle this idea and some of them inspired me. It's definitely a way to focus in on the relationship between these two without that pesky kid and dog getting in the way!

Beyond that, I think it's a really cool idea to bring focus to things Twilight wants outside of the domestic. In canon, it's obvious he wishes he could be Loid Forger (and to an extent Loid Forger isn't really a mask at all) but I also love the idea that he might not actually want a simple family life with a simple civilian woman, but just... someone who understands him. Understands why he does what he does, has similar thoughts or feelings or experiences or background. The thought that he might still have found that with Yor under very different circumstances tickles the irony part of my brain.

Also it let's them meet on equal footing and display competency to each other, and since that does a lot for me personally I have to imagine it works for them too.

ANYWAY now here's "indulgence"!

"Gods, this is nice," he murmured. Karlach sighed, her hands playing with his, squeezing, tracing his fingers. She felt the softness of his palms as much as the brass scales on the backs of his hands. Her tail encircled and stroked his shin, and her feet tapped against the tops of his, doing a little dance. She always had so much energy when they went to bed together, energy he usually had to thoroughly expel from her in very satisfying ways… but tonight, he could tell this was all she wanted. He was happy to give it to her. “It is, isn’t it?” she said, laughing softly and kissing his palm. “Creature comforts.” “Mmhmm.” He nuzzled the back of her neck, closing his eyes. If he closed his eyes, it felt (and smelled) a bit like embracing a campfire, though a fair bit more pleasant. “Necessities, more like.” “You really are a bit of a ponce, aren’t you,” she said with a chuckle. “I am not,” he replied, feigning offense as he tickled the bottom of her foot with his toe. He felt her jump a little and it warmed him almost as much as her engine did. “I simply prefer the indoors to the outdoors. What’s precisely wrong with that?” “Pretty boring, really.” She elbowed him gently in the stomach. “Life happens outdoors.” “And I’d rather ‘life’ didn’t protrude up into my shoulder blades when I’m trying to sleep. Or seep through my tent when it storms. Or get into my bedroll and lay eggs. Or—” “Alright, alright,” she laughed, turning her head and looking over her shoulder into his eyes. “Baby.”

...so you can tell where the title came from!

I didn't really have a direction or a structure for this when I started it (the real reason for the title) but as I got further, I started to think about a selection of bedtime moments between my Tav (Sevistur the dragonborn paladin) and Karlach. The first time they sleep next to each other, the first time they sleep with each other, the first time they share a roof, the first time they share a bath or a bed. A sort of timeline of expanding boundaries and deepening intimacy.

I think the general thrust of it would be Sev coming to grips with how much he cares for Karlach, and then how much he needs to solve Karlach's condition, with him very quietly deciding what he wants to do about it. The thing is, he knows she doesn't wanna argue about it, so it's gotta go pretty much unsaid for most of it, living mostly in his interiority up until we get to the end, which has to take place in either Avernus or the epilogue. I haven't quite gotten that far!

I definitely want to, though. Karlach is easily my favorite romanceable NPC in years, and in a game that also includes Shadowheart that is saying something. It always makes me feel a bit strange to write an OC romancing a canon character, but that's kind of the whole point of BG3, and I like them too much to let that weird hangup of mine stop me, so here we are!

#writing #ask meme #thanks for ask! #i feel like i would have more ideas for bg3 fic if bg3 itself weren't so goddamn long #like it's all encompassing! #it covers almost everything i would want from those characters and their relationships! #the ending i got with karlach was PERFECTION for gods sake #what else needs to be said #well it turns out 'gently intimate smooches and banter' is what's lacking #or at least i can ALWAYS have more of it

[llocallesbian]

title; Titanic.

pairings; joyce byers x fem reader

prompt; you need inspiration and Joyce just happened to be there.

warning; allusion to sex?? idk. its so fluffy, yuck.

a/n; after season 1; i hate this man.

You hummed softly to an old song as you entered yours and Joyce’s bedroom, closing the door behind you with your hip seeing as both your hands held a mug of steaming coffee. You gently placed one down on Joyce’s side before returning to your side of the bed. You put yours down on your own table, grabbing your sketch book and a pencil before retreating to your bed, prompting the pillows up against the headboard to make it more comfortable.

You sighed contently once your pencil started to glide across the paper, just making random doodles as your mind raced for inspiration. The woman beside you stirred and you smiled softly at her, running your hand through her hair for a moment. Joyce’s eyes fluttered open and she took in a breath, looking up at you, a smile began to make its way to her lips.

“Goodmorning,” her voice was deep and full of rasp, as it always was when she woke up. You grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek, right next to her ear.

“It’s a good morning, indeed.” She chuckled, heat rising to her cheeks, wrapping the sheet further into her naked body. “I just made the coffee.” You nodded towards her bedside table and letting out a little laugh as she reached for it quickly. You watched as the sheet shifted to the top of her breast, covering them, but her chest and shoulders were completely bare. Covered by nothing except the few freckles and beauty marks she had. Her wild bed hair fell back behind her ears, displaying her jawline and neck. Her delicate fingers wrapped around the mug securely as she began to gently sip the hot liquid, softly sighing into it. She was the inspiration.. “Can I draw you?”

Joyce paused her coffee midway, a brow raised in both, amusement and shock. “I’m sorry?”

“Come on, let me draw you, like one of my french girls.” You gave her your best puppy dog eyes and she laughed loudly, head tossed back while she leaned back on one of her elbows, turning on her side to now face you.

“Did you just quote titanic to me?”

“Maybe? Please.” She sighed, looking at you for a long moment before nodding.

“How do you want me?” She was prepared to turn and put the coffee down but you stopped her, turning your full body to face her.

“Just act natural, my love.” She smiled at you, taking a small sip of her coffee, watching as you went to work.

“I can’t believe I let you do it.” She groaned playfully, letting her finger trail over your bare knee cap, going up to your mid thigh, before turning back around. “My shirt looks good on you, you know?” You paused, tongue on top lip as you looked at her face, studying it momentarily.

“You ripped my dress last night, needed something to wear.” Joyce just smiled and you rolled your eyes, going back to sketching her face. “You’re not even a little sorry, are you?”

“Maybe a little, but not for the most part, it was fun.” She blushed a little and you thought back to last night as you giggled, nodding in agreement.

“Shh, be still.” You scolded as she turned her head to look at the time.

“I have to get up soon, start breakfast for the kids-”

“I just need a few minutes, relax. I’ll help you Joyce.” She settled back into her spot, watching as your eyes flicked between herself and the paper, pencil moving quickly and every once and a while you would use the eraser or your finger to smudge some things. She smiled softly, bringing the coffee to her lips for a moment. It was quiet in the Byers home that morning, the only noise being some birds outside of their bedroom window. There was many things in Joyce’s life that went wrong, but this moment, you, her family, was not one of them. “Stop staring at me like that.” You muttered as your eyes met hers, she looked at you like you were the greatest thing, a little sparkle in her eye.

“Like what?” You shook your head, putting your pencil down, giving the sketch a final look over before smiling wide. Once the page was facing Joyce, a little gasp left her lips, tears welling in her eyes. “Oh no, please don’t cry!” A mix between a chuckle and cry left her lips as she shook her head, sitting up.

“Good cry, I promise.” She pressed her lips against yours quickly before putting the coffee back on her side table. “Sign it.”

“What?”

“The drawing, sign it. Your signature.” You laughed a little, signing your name and date in the right hand lower corner. She grabbed the picture, letting her fingers trace over the pencil marks for a moment before looking up at you.

“I love you.” She whispered, leaning towards you, letting her lips hover right over yours and your attempt to connect your lips failed as she moved back slightly but still hovered her lips over yours. Always a tease. “Speaking of Titanic, let’s play it. You be the ocean and i’ll go down on-”

“Joyce!” She laughed loudly, pulling you down onto the bed, connecting your lips together in a passionate kiss. Long story short, you definitely ending up playing titanic.

#joyce byers x reader #joyce byers x fem!reader #joyce byers #stranger things x fem!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things

[ready-steady-freddie]

Nothing breaks like a heart

Robert Bob Floyd x AFAB wife reader

Warnings: A piece on family life, miscarriages, infant death (nothing graphic), grief and mentions of being suicidal.

Word count: 900

Notes: This was inspired by something that happened in real life to me and my husband. I find many similarities between my husband and how I imagine Bob to be and what he would be like as a dad (which makes total sense) and how he would react in the situation that is touched upon in this drabble. It was also inspired by @a-reader-and-a-writer s drabble about Rhett Abbott called 'Sleep'.

I listened to Annie Lennox singing Into The West while writing this. The lyrics make perfect sense in this context.

This is my first time writing something from the reader's POV. This small piece ties in with Swim until you can't see land, which is more Bob-centric.

It wasn't easy trying to slip unnoticed into the house with the dark hallway filled with tricycles and Lego. After kicking off your shoes you managed to step onto a hard plastic block and hold back a loud curse word, only to bang your ankle into the pedal of the child-sized bike to your left. You didn't know which foot to clutch, so you whimpered faintly and hobbled to the kitchen. Even at 11pm the lights were still on and the kitchen was a mess. It usually was when Bob had the kids alone in the evening. It wasn't always possible to cook dinner, do the dishes, prepare their packed lunches, change diapers, help with toothbrushing, read an insurmountable amount of books, keep the kids inside the bed, wrap them in their duvets like little burritos, feeding them bananas and fetching glasses of water more times than possible to remember - all before falling asleep yourself while trying to put the children to bed. It just wasn't, and that was okay. You would clean it up together tomorrow morning.

You tiptoed upstairs, carefully avoiding the two creaking steps at the top. The door to the kids' bedroom was slightly ajar, lights off. You frowned. You opened it enough to stick your head inside and listen. You couldn't hear their breathing. You panicked and turned on the ceiling lights. Their beds were empty. You sighed, relief washing over you.

You walked further down the hall, opening the door to you and Bob's bedroom as quietly as possible. You heard heavy, sleepy breathing and smiled. There was a single electric candle alight on your nightstand, and in the dim lighting it cast across the otherwise pitch black room, you saw your husband asleep in your bed with your two children. His upper body was bare apart from his dog tags, ever present around his neck, his lower half covered by a duvet. Your youngest child lay on Bob's chest, sleeping on her stomach, her little head resting on his collarbone. One of his hands was on her back while the other held very lightly onto a book by his side. Your eldest child lay with his entire body spread across your pillows, his right foot resting on his father's forehead, arms stretched out from his body. You laughed a little to yourself. This was the best sight to come home to after a long evening shift.

You swallowed thickly, tears pressing on. You were happy. You had the life you had dreamed of for so many years. But it hadn't come to you easily. There had been many pregnancies, many would-be children, before and in-between the two living ones who were now glued to their beloved dad. Many miscarriages in your panties, in the toilet, in the supermarket, some while Bob had been away for weeks and months. Every single one of those with dreams and wishes of a loving future - but those you didn't get to meet. There was the child you did get to meet but only with his eyes closed, ten fingers and ten toes, rosy cheeks, no crying as he entered the world outside your womb and no taking him home with you afterwards. You had never seen Bob cry before and it filled your already broken heart with so much guilt that you weren't able to fulfill his greatest wish of becoming a father. Seeing him silently weeping while he held your lifeless son in his arms. Your only job had been to grow, nurture and protect this little being. And you failed at it. You were supposed to give him life. Instead your body became a cemetery.

That was the time when your usually calm and efficient husband found himself out on a limb. He was trained to handle whatever was thrown at him at random and at high velocity - but this time he simply didn't know what to act on. The grief of losing your firstborn child was all-fulfilling, so all-consuming that you and Bob forgot to eat, sleep and communicate. Sometimes it felt like you even forgot to breathe and live. You relied on Bob for the simplest of things, like opening a window and letting in some fresh air. If it were up to you, you would have shrouded yourself in darkness and despair, content to stay there forever. You were at that point not able to help Bob in his grief. He picked you up when it seemed he had no strength to pick himself up any longer. He saved you.

Bob had clearly distanced himself from you by accepting - even actively looking for - missions that came with high risks, missions that required him to be away from you. Missions that you had agreed on before your wedding that he would not go on if he could avoid it. You sometimes wondered if he had a deathwish. If he was actually suicidal. It wouldn't have surprised you. You had been there yourself. That nearly cost you your relationship.

You were since blessed with two living children and they were perfect. You smiled. Forever sad about the child you had in your heart but no longer in your arms. No amount of love that you had for him, or indeed any of your would-be children, would ever mend your broken heart. But this place - inside your broken heart - is where you would keep him deep within you for the rest of your life. You now accepted that this was your life. And right now you were exactly where you needed to be. You would see him again one day.

#robert bob floyd #everyone's favourite bob #lieutenant bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd #bob floyd top gun

[fallouttrait]

Okay I finally made another no cc home and while the outside looks kind of horrendous I do have a good explanation for this!!! This is my best attempt at recreating a house I have driven by before. It doesn't look like a home because it that is what it looks like in real life. It doesn't sit with other houses either it stands alone at a crossroads and honestly looks like it was something else at one point. I can however tell that people definitely live there and there are a couple differences in the shape and windows. I have more windows than the Irl home itself because some of the placements are actually a semi-outdoor area with chains for windows (so pretty, right?) Other than that, I have no idea what the inside looks like so this is my own imagination running wild as too what the houses interior may looks like. Enough of me rambling though, let me get to the important details!

Origin ID: Fallouttrait

Packs used: Seasons, Get together, Cats & Dogs, Dream Home Decorator, Paranormal, Tiny Living, Nifty Knitting, Laundry Day, Decor to the Max, & Little Camper's Kit. (No CC was used!)

House has two bedrooms and two bathrooms along with other necessities. Other rambles about the house details will be below the keep reading.

So, about the house itself I kind of got really inspired by the color blue for some reason so that is kind of what the palette is focused on. As soon as you walk in through the front doors there is an area to hang your coat and your mud boots. There're little hallway tables with decor to brighten up the space and you are immediately greeted by the dining table and the small bar. Now you can go through one of the two doors, one being a small bathroom and the other leading into the "garage" which I have turned into a laundry room to be more sim friendly. The other two rooms of the first floor are the living room and the kitchen! Building with rounded walls is so hard I wish they optimized it a bit more before releasing them. Now if you look around hard enough there are pet beds and food bowls! I think there's enough space for cats and small dogs I even used some of the space I closed off as hidden passages for any future furry/feline friends that might stay in this house so that they even have their own personal space.

If you head upstairs there is a small lounge area for reading and just hanging out and of course we have our two bedrooms, I imagine a single mom and her daughter living here. I decorated the daughter's bedroom for a child, but you can easily change that to teen or whatever you like. There is one final bathroom with a tub and litter box and then you can go outside onto the balcony for either chess or some painting. I know this is probably an odd house, but I do really like it a lot and I promise I will release a more normal house next time!!!

#ts4 build #the sims 4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 nocc #sims 4 #ts4 #gshade #simblr #sims build #sims 4 build #recreation #fallouttrait

[rhodesportfolio]

MORANA VITALIO for Interview Magazine.

Morana Interviewed by Reinier Ferrari. Photographed by Blake Rhode Baldwin.

MONDAY 12 PM OCT. 30, 2023 LA

REINIER FERRARI: Hey, my angel baby.

MORANA VITALIO: Hi!

FERRARI: My older sister. How are you?

VITALIO: I miss you. Thank you for doing this. This makes my life.

FERRARI: It made my life. I’ve never said yes to something faster.

VITALIO: No, seriously. And the fact that we haven’t been seeing each other as much—

FERRARI: I know. It’s a crime. Okay, I’ll jump right into it, and if you don’t like a question, just say no and I’ll never forgive you.

VITALIO: Perfect.

FERRARI: Does anyone or anything inspire you?

VITALIO: My family inspires me. My husband, my kids, my dad, my aunt, you, Devon... I get inspired by love.

FERRARI: I love you. Do you ever take notes?

VITALIO: I make notes if I’m getting inspiration. I’m online a lot.

Bikini Top, Pants, Belt and Necklace Celine by Hedi Slimane.

FERRARI: Walk me through a normal morning for you. What is the first hour of you waking up at home?

VITALIO: Coffee immediately.

FERRARI: How do you get your coffee? Do you go downstairs and get it? Does anybody bring it to you?

VITALIO: I love these questions. I get my coffee from Kings Road Coffee.

FERRARI: You walk to Kings Road?

VITALIO: No, no, no. Of course not.

FERRARI: Glad we’re on the same page. So, is it waiting in your kitchen? Or it’s waiting outside your bedroom door.

VITALIO: It’s waiting in my kitchen. [Laughs]

FERRARI: Okay, great. Thank you.

Top, Shorts, Underwear, and Shoes ALL-IN.

VITALIO: Sometimes if I’ve, like, had a long night, my coffee will appear next to my bed.

FERRARI: Oh, bless that person.

VITALIO: It’s usually Kyle or Jordan bringing it in, though.

FERRARI: Oh, that’s really cute. How do you take your coffee?

VITALIO: I love a vanilla almond milk.

FERRARI: So, on a daily basis, what does your routine look like?

VITALIO: I’m either taking Jordan to daycare or rushing to work somewhere or making pancakes. My kid loves my pancakes, both of them, even Atlanta. [Laughs]

Dress Versace. Earrings Marland Backus. Rings Cartier.

FERRARI: That’s so cute. What do you plan to tell your kids Mommy does for work?

VITALIO: Mommy makes clothes.

FERRARI: Oh, wow. Mommy does make clothes.

VITALIO: Jordan was playing with my drafts yesterday. I like to always show him my name’s on the clothing. I’m like “This is Mommy’s clothes. Your Mom’s really cool”.

FERRARI: She sure is. This might be too invasive of a question, but I’m curious how you’ll deal with their reaction to security.

VITALIO: Yeah. We never really got security until I got pregnant. I have two security in rotation for them and they have been with me for some time now. I’m trying to figure it all out too because we never had security growing up, so I didn’t know what that’s like, but I’ll always try to make it as normal and friendly as possible.

Dress Miss Claire Sullivan. Bra and Underwear Shawna Wu. Earrings and Ring Marland Backus.

FERRARI: Okay, I have two last questions. Do you think you have greyhounds dogs because they remind you of Kyle?

VITALIO: [Laughs] Yes, that’s a part of it. I love seeing little Kyles run around, and I think they’re just funny. They make me smile. I was never, like, a Shih Tzu Pomeranian type of girl.

FERRARI: No, not fluffy.

VITALIO: I need them skinny and fast.

FERRARI: Yeah, totally. My last question is about Versace. Any news you’d like to share?

VITALIO: [Laughs] I don’t wanna spoil much, so you have stay tuned to find that out.

Dress and Necklace Y/Project. Ring (worn on top) Cartier. Ring (worn on bottom) Tiffany & CO.

FERRARI: Well, that’s all I have for you.

VITALIO: Thank you so much.

FERRARI: I love you so much.

VITALIO: I love you. I need to see you in Milan. Thank you for doing this. Seriously.

FERRARI: Yeah, of course. I was so happy to.

VITALIO: Okay, yay. And I hope to see you soon, brother.

FERRARI: Alright, sister. You too. Bye.

[missmeinyourbones]

Hi!!✨so is raining when i am and i was thinking Armin w his s/o IN THE RAIN all cute dancing in the rain and kissing GOD I NEED AN ARMIN IN MY LIFE 🤧

MEET ME IN THE POURING RAIN (A. ARLERT)

Armin's a romantic, to say the least.

He's seen all of the classics: The Notebook, A Walk to Remember, Titanic. He enjoys them, enjoys the love they can inspire.

So when he sees the pouring rain outside, paired with a quick glance at his weather app to ensure that there’s no thunder or lightening, and it’s not a freezing rain so hypothermia isn’t a risk, he knows what he has to do. 

Despite your playful protests and your body clinging to your sheets, he succeeds in getting you out of bed (you don’t know if his physical strength or cunning words are more to blame, but you digress). Dragging you to the front door, Armin is all bashful giggles and secretive smiles. When you ask him what he’s doing for the fourth time, his response is just as ominous.

“You’ll see,” he insists, his hand finding the small of your back as he leads you down the front steps and into the front yard. The air outside is muggy and dense compared to the air conditioned temperature of your bedroom. 

It’s completely and utterly pouring. 

Borderline torrential down-pouring (minus the winds and cold temperatures). You feel like you’re straight out of a movie—like you’re about to watch the protagonist profess their love to you in a screaming fit. But the scene before you is better than any movie that could ever be written or directed, because it’s Armin.

His clothes are now far from savable, already soaking wet from standing underneath the rain for only a few moments. His normally light and wispy hair now dripping flat against his forehead; he shakes it like a wet dog would, and you watch as it sticks to his skin in humorous directions. 

He reaches his hand out to you, coaxing you to join him. You hesitate for only a moment, before running into the storm yourself. 

Armin catches you with ease, swinging your frame around in his grasp. You feel like the protagonist now, not the love interest—you feel like Allie running into Noah’s arms, or Rose meeting Jack for the very first time. In moments like this, Armin knows exactly how to make you feel like the main character in your own life, which is no easy feat these days. 

He sets you down, balancing your feet on top of his own. You move in sync, ballroom dancing in the middle of your barren street, clothes clinging to your drenched frames. You look up as he twirls you on your tiptoes, spinning you like a ballerina. He watches the raindrops drip from your eyelashes. You look like a canvas as rain is painting you in a way that makes even the greatest artists of all time envious. 

You kiss him through your giggles, and it’s all teeth and gums between the two of your Cheshire cat grins. You taste the water accumulated from the both of your lip and you think this is how holy water is made.

Armin’s a romantic, yes, but he’s never been a fan of the rain. He always thought kissing in a storm would be overrated, unenjoyable even. The movies made it look easy, it has to be more complicated than that, right? But this, right now with you, is the closest to heaven Armin thinks he’ll ever get to experience. 

NOTE: this has been rotting away in my inbox for so long ;_; im sorry to the anon who requested this forever ago but here you are! also the day i can name a piece after something that isn’t taylor lyrics will be the day i evolve as a person/writer. also unedited and not proofread so i might pick at it a little later hehe 

#armin arlert #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #armin fic #armin arlert fic #armin fluff #armin arlert fluff #armin brainrot #armin headcanons #armin arlert headcanons #armin drabble #armin arlert drabble #armin blurb #armin arlert blurb

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Familiar - Part 11

Word count: 5,500

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader (established relationship)

Warnings: Making out, implied sex (nothing explicit/nothing NSFW), a hospital/ER visit

The next installment of the Familiar series! I used some ideas from this inspiration prompt by @tealoveandmusic 😊 In summary, Tom and reader go on their first real vacation together; things get a bit rocky (no pun intended) when hiking up in the mountains.

Series navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

"Alright - it looks like we're supposed to take this exit coming up here."

"Ok..." You turned the car off the highway based on Tom's directions, pulling out onto a rural-looking street. "Now what?"

"Turn right up here..." He pointed out the windshield at the T intersection coming up. "... Then... we're on this road for another ten miles."

"Perfect - makes my life easier." You spun the wheel to make your right turn, pulling onto a more narrow-appearing road.

After so much work-related travel, the two of you decided it was finally time to take an actual vacation together. With Tom's schedule, you could only spare a few days, but that was more than enough. You'd rented a cabin up in the northern mountains for a couple nights, far enough out from civilization to get some peace and quiet for the two of you but not so far that you couldn't access things like grocery marts. It was the perfect level of seclusion. At least, in your humble opinion.

You'd ensured that the cabin was dog-friendly so you could bring your furry friend along for the trip. Toby was thrilled to be a back-seat passenger in the car. He'd gotten much bigger over the last couple of months, a near-fifty-pound lean and lanky ball of fuzz and energy. Fortunately, he'd been doing very well with his training. While you didn't quite trust him to walk off-leash, he certainly knew to listen when you asked him to sit or lie down.

"It's truly beautiful out here," Tom observed, gazing out the window at the silhouettes of mountains off in the distance.

"I bet it'd be even prettier in the late spring once everything has bloomed." You eyed the barren trees lining the road, wishing there was a bit more foliage. This far north, the wintery chill didn't completely recede until later in the season. While it wasn't necessarily frigid outside, it definitely wasn't warm just yet.

Perfect for cuddling by the fireplace, you thought.

After a lengthy stretch of road and a couple more turns, you finally arrived at the cabin you'd be staying in for the weekend. It was gorgeous even from the outside - a single-floor log cabin with a wrap-around porch and large picturesque windows to view the outside scenery.

"Ready to see where we're living this weekend, Toby buddy?" you cooed, rounding to the backseat of the car to let the pup out onto the dirt driveway. He leapt gracefully from the car, tail wagging so hard his whole body was wiggling with the force of it. Tom shouldered your bags, and the three of you headed up the porch stairs to check out the interior.

Inside the cabin reminded you of one of those sappy Christmas movies, one with the warm, homey cabin in the woods. The front door opened into a large open space that housed the living room, kitchen, and dining area. The walls and floors were made of a sleek maple wood, the furniture a modern rustic sort of feel. A stone fireplace stood in the living area across from a plush-looking sofa and two oversized armchairs.

"This is perfect," you breathed, unleashing Toby's collar once the door had shut behind you so he could roam as he pleased.

"You chose well, love," Tom hummed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head.

"I did my research." You grinned, turning to return Tom's kiss with one of your own on his cheek.

Toby headed straight down the hallway by the kitchen area to the bedroom. You followed with your bag, gazing around happily at the cozy-looking queen-sized bed and the smaller stone fireplace on the far wall. There was a large window in the bedroom, through which you could view the mountainous landscape in the distance.

The pup hopped up on top of the bed and walked in a few repetitive circles, then lay down curled up in a ball with a happy sigh. You chuckled, scratching him behind the ear.

"I'm with you, Toby," you whispered, turning down the blankets and sheets and sliding underneath. The bed was as soft as you imagined it would be. You curled up on your side and shut your eyes for a moment.

"Ah - there you are," Tom's voice echoed from the doorway. "Darling, we need to go to the market to get some food for the weekend."

You groaned loudly, pulling the blankets up over your head. "Five more minutes."

"You napped the entire time I was driving - are you honestly still tired?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Mm."

You felt the mattress sink a bit as Tom sat down on the edge of the bed next to you. You merely rolled onto your other side to face away from him defiantly, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Toby - tell your mum she has to wake up."

You cracked one eye open slightly to look at your dog, who remained curled up at the foot of the bed, unmoving. Good - he's on my side, you thought.

"Come, now, darling - there will be plenty of time to nap later," he insisted, placing a hand on your side to shake you a bit. You flinched at his touch, then relaxed when you realized he wasn't moving. "Oh-ho, you thought I was going to tickle you, didn't you? That can be arranged."

His fingers began pinching at your side through the blanket. You stiffened and sucked in a breath, refusing to move and gratify him with a response. His other hand suddenly began to scratch at your belly through the blankets. It was certainly ticklish, but bearable enough to maintain your façade.

"You know you want to laugh, darling..." he hummed, kneading his fingers up your ribcage. You released your breath in short bursts to avoid giggling, sucking it right back in as his fingers wormed their way under your arm. "Hmm. This isn't working."

Suddenly, he moved his fingers away from your torso, ripping the blankets down from where they were tucked around your shoulders. He wasted no time in resuming his tickle attack, aiming straight for the trigger spot on the back of your ribs while digging into your belly with the other hand. You screeched, unable to pretend to be asleep any longer as loud laughter burst from your chest.

"Ah-ha - got you, love."

"OHOKAY!! I-HI'M AWAHAKE!" you pleaded, curling yourself into a ball and rolling onto your back in a feeble attempt to block his tickling fingers.

"Yes, I see that. Now I'm simply having too much fun." He reached over and wrapped his fingers around to the back of your ribs on the other side, scratching deep into the spaces between the bones.

"TOHOBY!! HEHELP ME!" you squealed, holding a hand out toward your pup. He merely sighed, watching in silence as Tom tickled you to pieces. "TRAHAITOR!"

"Are you ready to get up and go to the market now?" He slotted one hand up underneath your arm where you'd left yourself exposed, laughing at the squeaky sound that escaped your lips.

"YEHES! YES I'LL GEHET UP!"

Accepting your plea, he ceased his attack, allowing you to catch your breath. You turned over to face Tom and stuck your tongue out playfully at him, earning a quick skittering of his fingers across your belly as punishment. Growling playfully, you grasped his wrist and held his hand away from your torso while you sat up, scowling as you shifted your legs over the side of the bed and rose to your feet.

"You pretend as though you weren't trying to provoke me to tickle you," Tom teased, smirking. Heat prickled in your cheeks.

"W-was not!" you argued weakly. "Come on, let's go shopping, since you're so excited for it..."

The two of you headed into town, leaving Toby behind to sleep in his self-appointed spot on the bed. With groceries in hand, you headed back to the cabin and prepared dinner for the evening in the quaint little kitchen area. You poured Toby his dinner as Tom set the table so he could eat at the same time.

Raising his glass of wine, Tom smiled at you across the table.

"To our very first real vacation together."

"I can't wait to spend the whole weekend with you." You lifted your glass and tapped it against his before taking a slow sip, savoring the fruity notes.

"Are you excited to go hiking tomorrow?"

"Would you believe that I've never actually been hiking before?" you asked, taking a bite of your dinner. Tom's eyebrows bumped up in surprise.

"Really? Well, I've only been a few times, but if I'm the expert of the pair of us, I'll just have to show you the ropes, then." He turned to look at Toby, who sat patiently by the table. "I bet you'll be excited to go hiking, won't you buddy?"

"I hope it will be at least a little warmer tomorrow morning. It's still pretty cold outside."

"We'll be sure to bundle up for the weather."

"Mm." You weren't overly fond of the cold, but you knew how excited Tom was to go on this hike, so you were willing to tolerate it for his sake. "For tonight, let's just enjoy the warmth of the fireplace."

"Sounds wonderful."

After dinner, you took a seat on the living room sofa while Tom lit a fire in the fireplace. With the lights dimmed, the warm glow of the flames danced along the walls, shadows flickering across the floor. Tom took a seat beside you, pulling you in close in his arms.

"This is so much better than your work travels," you hummed, sighing contentedly as you melted into his side.

"I agree. I much prefer to spend my evenings just like this." He squeezed you closer for emphasis, making you giggle.

"What should we do for the rest of the evening?"

"Hmm." He turned his head to look at you, a hazy gleam in his eyes. "How about..." He lifted your chin with one finger, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "... we spend the evening..." - another kiss - "... just like this?"

"Mmm... I can get behind that." You lifted your head to capture his lips with yours, sliding a hand around his neck and tangling your fingers in his hair. He kissed you back, slowly but passionately. You squeaked in surprise when he slid his arm beneath your knees and lifted your legs to sit across his lap, allowing his hand to rest on your leg as he continued to kiss you senseless.

"Mph," he groaned suddenly, breaking apart from you. "I've changed my mind."

"Oh?" Your eyes flitted down to his lips, already missing the feeling of them against your own. They curled into a grin, and he suddenly stood, scooping you up in his arms. You yelped in surprise, which made him smile.

"I believe we should take this elsewhere. The bedroom, perhaps?"

You smiled shyly, heat rushing to your cheeks. "Well... there is another fireplace in there."

"Excellent." Without another word, he swiftly began to carry you down the hallway to the bedroom as you giggled in his arms. He set you down gently on the bed, turning to shut the door to the bedroom, knowing quite well that there would be no prying eyes around tonight.

* * *

"Good morning, love."

You opened your eyes to find Tom standing by the edge of the bed with a mug in one hand and a plate of breakfast in the other. The bitter smell of coffee filled your nose and awoke your senses. You smiled sleepily, shifting to sit up a bit more and taking the plate from his hands as he set the mug on the bedside table beside you.

"Sleep alright?" you asked, the rasp of sleep still laden in your voice.

"Never better. You?"

"Perfectly." You offered Tom a kiss as he slid under the covers on his own side of the bed. Toby was suddenly very interested in what you were up to, bounding up atop the bed and parking his bottom directly in front of the pair of you. "No, Toby - this is our breakfast."

"I've been looking at hiking trails in the area - there's one that begins only a short distance from here that looks to be easy enough for a beginner."

"Sounds good to me."

The two of you chatted over breakfast, then quickly got dressed and ready for your hike. You dug around in your bag searching for Toby's harness while Tom packed a backpack with water and snacks.

"Where... is... it..." you huffed, scouring the contents of your bag. Frustrated, you sat back and glanced up at Tom. "I think I forgot to pack his harness."

"We won't be able to take him hiking without it - he could slip out of his collar," Tom lamented.

"I'm sorry buddy!" You reached over and patted Toby apologetically on the head. "We'll go into town this afternoon and get you a harness so you can join us tomorrow, alright?" He sat down, tail wagging as always, tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. "Yeah, you have no idea what I'm saying, I know buddy."

"Why don't we head out so we'll have time to stop in town later?" Tom suggested.

"Alright..."

Your heart ached as you said goodbye to Toby before heading out the door, though you knew very well he'd just curl up on the bed and sleep until you returned.

There was a slight nip in the air as you made your way to the hiking trail, but it was a bit warmer than the previous afternoon at least. Still, you were surprised to find the trail to be coated in intermittent patches of ice still from the last snow of the season.

"Must not have ever melted with the cold temperatures up here in the mountains..." you observed, treading carefully around a particularly slippery-appearing patch.

"We'll just have to be cautious."

The woodsy smell was refreshing as you continued along the trail, your hand laced through Tom's. It was so peaceful out in the woods with no other people around. The only sounds were the birds chirping overhead, reverberating off the bark of the dozens of bare trees surrounding your path.

Ahead, there was a slight elevation of rocky terrain that you'd have to climb up to continue along the trail. Tom headed up first, turning around at the top to offer you a hand to steady yourself as you traversed the small rocky hill. You grasped his hand, stepping up onto a small rocky ledge with one foot and then lifting your other foot to hoist yourself up a bit higher.

Suddenly, the ledge you'd planted your weight on gave way, and you slid down the rocks along with it. You landed on your left foot atop the chunk of stone that had broken off, your ankle twisting harshly as the rock slipped beneath your weight along the forest floor. With a shout of pain, you released Tom's hand and dropped to the ground, grasping your injured ankle.

"Are you alright??" he asked worriedly, carefully making his way down the rocks to be by your side.

"I... I think so. I just twisted my ankle, just give me a minute." You squeezed your eyes shut as the pain throbbed throughout your ankle.

"We should take a look at it," Tom suggested, kneeling down beside you and reaching over to untie the laces of your shoe.

"I'm sure it's f-ahh! Fine." You hissed as he carefully removed your shoe, gazing down at your ankle as he rolled up your pants leg to get a better look.

"It's very swollen. Does it hurt to touch it?" he asked, carefully probing his fingers along your ankle. You winced, nodding in response. "We need to take you to see a doctor, it could be broken."

"No! No, I'm fine, really. Just let me sit for a minute, it'll wear off."

Gradually, the throbbing in your ankle began to dull as you sat and rested. You motioned for Tom to help you try to stand, planting your weight on your good ankle. The moment you began to apply weight to your other foot, you grunted and shifted to stand on your other leg again.

"You're still hurting. Please, let's take you to get it checked," he pleaded. Sighing, you agreed.

"I guess, if it'll make you feel better..."

"Yes, it would." He reached down and scooped you up in his arms, carrying you back in the direction you'd come so you could get closer to the road. Neither of you had any clue where the nearest emergency room was, and you weren't keen on driving around aimlessly with a swollen ankle until you found one, so you suggested he just call an ambulance to get you there safely.

Before you knew it, you'd been brought to the local hospital to be evaluated. Tom held tightly to your hand and walked alongside you as the paramedics rolled you into the emergency department. Fortunately, the injury had happened early enough in the day that the waiting area wasn't overly busy. A nurse took your information at triage and assigned you a room. After a series of maze-like, winding hallways, the paramedics helped you shift over into a hospital stretcher inside your room. Tom took a seat in a chair at your bedside, still grasping your hand.

"Tom - I swear, you're more anxious than I am," you chuckled half-heartedly.

"Darling, I just feel awful about all this," he lamented, placing his other hand over the back of yours. "How is your ankle feeling?"

"Whatever the paramedics gave me is really helping." You offered him a weak smile in reassurance. "I'll be ok, I promise."

"I know you will. You're the strongest woman I know." Tom lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it, making your heart flutter.

Only moments later, a nurse entered the room and introduced herself, then helped you to change into a hospital gown without injuring your ankle any further while removing your clothes. She had a hell of a sense of humor, and by the time she'd checked your vitals and finished charting them, she had both of you laughing and much more relaxed.

"We're going to bring you over for some X-rays to see if it's broken," she explained as she removed her gloves and headed for the doorway. "Someone will be here shortly to wheel you over - you don't have to do a thing. It'll be like your own personal chariot."

"Oh, well that's excellent, I've always wanted one of those," you laughed. The nurse stepped out, leaving you and Tom alone once again.

"Are you sure you're doing alright?"

"Yehes, Tom, I promise." You sighed. "Although, I feel terrible that I ruined our first vacation."

"Ruined? Of course not. Merely... changed our plans," he assured. "We'll just have to spend more of our time in the cabin instead of going out and about."

"Mm, that sounds nice." Truthfully, after seeing all of the ice still scattered throughout the hiking trails, you wouldn't have been keen on doing any more hiking anyway. Even if you hadn't injured yourself.

A few X-rays and another dose of pain medication later, the doctor stopped in the room to assess your ankle.

"What's the verdict, doc?" you asked.

"Well, you did a number on your ankle," she explained, pulling up your X-rays on the computer screen by the bedside. "It's definitely broken. We'll need to set it and cast it - the fracture caused it to dislocate a bit. The good news is we can get you out of here once we're done."

"She won't require any additional observation?" Tom asked worriedly.

"No sir. Well, she'll need to be monitored for a few hours after the sedation. But then she'll be good to go!"

"Sedation?" Now you were a bit more nervous.

"Don't worry - we do this sort of thing all the time. You're in expert hands. And you won't feel or remember a thing." The doctor smiled warmly, patting your good ankle comfortingly before stepping out.

"I've never been sedated before," you fretted, squeezing Tom's hand. "I don't know what to expect."

"We'll be sure to ask them all our questions before they do anything," he promised.

It wasn't long before the doctor returned, along with another more senior doctor and your nurse. Tom had just as many questions as you did, but the three of them answered them all without complaint. They allowed Tom to stay in the room while the nurse hooked you up to a cardiac monitor (just a standard precaution, she explained), then asked him to step out while they performed the sedation procedure.

"You'll do excellent, I know you will," he assured, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips while squeezing your hand. "I'll be back as soon as they allow it."

"Thanks. I love you."

"I love you too, darling."

The nerves set in the moment he'd left. Time was simultaneously moving quickly and slowly - it felt as though it was taking eternity for the team to prepare, and yet before you knew it, your nurse was at your side and grasping your hand with a reassuring smile.

"Think about somewhere nice and warm, like a beach or something," she suggested.

"Mm, next time I go on vacation, that's where I want to go. I won't break an ankle on the beach," you joked.

"Alright - count backwards from ten for me," the doctor instructed as they administered the sedation. It was mere seconds before your brain started feeling fuzzy.

"Ten... nine... eight..."

That was the last thing you remembered.

* * *

"Mr. Hiddleston - you're welcome to come back in."

Tom glanced up from his hands, which he'd been absentmindedly wringing in his lap. Your nurse was standing over him with a smile that set him at ease.

"She did great," she explained. "We'll need to keep her here a bit longer to monitor her until the sedation wears off, but you can sit with her and keep her company."

"Thank you." He stood and moved to enter your room, but stopped when the nurse spoke once again.

"Just so you know - she's still a bit loopy from the sedation." She had an amused spark in her eye as she motioned for him to enter the room. Warily, Tom brushed past the curtain and headed in to see you.

Your ankle was propped up on a large pillow with a cast wrapped from your foot all the way up your shin to just below your knee. Your eyes were closed, mouth slightly agape in the most adorable way. Grinning fondly at your sleeping form, he moved to stand at your bedside and scooped up your hand in his.

"Darling... wake up. They're finished," he whispered. Your eyes gradually cracked open at the sound of his voice and the sensation of his touch, a whiny groan escaping through your nose. A spark of recognition flashed in your eyes when you saw Tom's face, and you beamed up at him.

"Thomas!" you squealed, squeezing his hand weakly. "C'mere and kiss me."

"My pleasure." He leaned down to kiss you as you asked. Your kiss was a bit sloppier than usual, and you let your head fall back against the pillow without making much effort to hold it up or soften the fall.

"Y'know I love you," you cooed, gazing blissfully at him as he took his seat beside your bed.

"Yes, of course I know that. I love you too, dear."

"You do??" Your eyes shot open wide, a shocked expression crossing your face. "Ohmygod! You love me!"

Tom chuckled at your obvious disorientation. "I've been telling you so for months now, darling."

"B-but... you're famous!"

"That's right. And you're wonderful."

"I'm wonderful?" You smiled shyly, a tinge of color dusting your cheeks. "No, yurrr wonderful, Thomas Hiddleston."

"Well thahank you." As terrible as it sounded, he was finding you to be quite charming in this semi-conscious, dazed state.

"Mmhmm. I wanna marry you and have your babies," you slurred gleefully. He snorted out loud, unable to keep from laughing. It was becoming apparent that whatever they'd given you had disinhibited you more than a few glasses of wine would have even done.

"Oh, is that right?"

"Yeeeup!"

"Are you sure that's not the medication talking, darling?" he probed.

"Mm-mm. Nope!" You popped the 'p' for emphasis, which he couldn't help but smile at. "I've been thinkin' 'bout it ferr a while now, Thomas."

"Why do you keep calling me Thomas? You only do that when you're upset with me, or trying to get me to stop tickling you."

"Pshh. Naww. I'm always teasing! I love your name, it's so... handsome."

"Why thank you."

"B'sides, I like when you tickle me," you hummed, the color in your cheeks brightening. "And when you cuddle me, and kiss me..."

Before he could respond, there was a knock at the doorway. The curtain shifted and the doctor appeared with an entertained grin.

"How is she doing?"

"Well - I'm learning all sorts of interesting information about my girlfriend," Tom chuckled. "Are you certain you didn't give her truth serum or something?"

"Oh, no - that happens all the time," the doctor assured with a laugh. "She probably won't remember any of what she's telling you right now, so you can decide how much you want her to know if you'd like."

"What?? I will too remember!" you pouted, sounding like a petulant child. Tom laughed, turning to brush a strand of hair off your forehead.

"Alright, love. I believe you. We'll talk all about it later when we're back at the cabin."

"Mm'kay." Your gaze shifted to the doctor. "Can I nap now?"

"Yes, the sedation has worn off enough that we're not worried about your breathing. So go ahead and nap to your heart's content."

"Yay!" You lay back against the pillow and shut your eyes, falling asleep within minutes. The doctor chuckled, turning to Tom.

"She'll be alright to go home in about a half hour. I'll have the nurse get her discharge paperwork to you shortly."

"Thank you, doctor."

* * *

The hours following the procedure were hazy in your mind. The first thing you consciously remembered was arriving back at the cabin and being scooped up in Tom's arms so he could carry you inside.

"When did they finish fixing my ankle?" you groaned groggily. Tom's eyebrows shot up his forehead in surprise as he set you down gently on the sofa across from the fireplace. He hushed Toby as the pup rushed over to greet you. He seemed to recognize something had happened - he lay his head down in your lap and whined softly. "It's alright, buddy! I'm ok," you whispered as you scratched his ears.

"You don't remember anything?" Tom disappeared down the hallway for a moment, returning with two of the pillows from the bedroom. "You were talking quite a bit after you woke up from the sedation."

"I was?" You winced as he carefully lifted your casted ankle to place it on top of one of the pillows. It was the first time you were really noticing the cast. "What did I talk about?"

"Oh, mostly about how much you love me," he hummed, a teasing edge to his voice. You felt heat rush to your cheeks.

"Oh, I did?" You leaned forward so he could place the other pillow behind your back, then lay down against it.

"Oh yes. In fact, you were rather surprised to hear I love you too."

You laughed in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, you were." He took a seat on the edge of the couch beside you, taking your hand in his. "And you told me all about how much you love it when I 'tickle you, and cuddle you, and kiss you'... your words, not mine."

"Oh god..." You covered your face with your free hand, feeling the heat in your face intensify. "That's so... I'm sorry, that's so weird of me."

"On the contrary - you were quite charming." He squeezed your hand, leaning down to press a kiss to your burning forehead. "There was... something else."

"Something else? What more could I have possibly said?"

"Well..." He looked uncertain, as though grappling internally with the decision whether or not to tell you. "You, er... you told me you wanted to marry me."

You whined, tugging your hand free from his so you could cover your face with both. "You're kidding me."

"I'd never lie to you about that." You felt his fingers close gently around your wrists, prying your hands from your face so he could look you in the eye. "Did... did you mean it?"

"Well... yeah. I mean, I've... thought about it." You smiled sheepishly. "Not like, right now... but, I've definitely thought about the possibility of where this is going, and... yeah." Tom's face was unreadable, blank. "I... totally freaked you out, didn't I?"

"No, darling, of course not." He released one of your wrists in favor of slipping his hand behind your neck, pulling you a bit closer to press a long, sweet kiss to your lips. "I'm happy to hear you share my sentiments."

"R-really?"

"Yes. As you said - not just yet, of course. But... the thought has most definitely crossed my mind."

An involuntary smile spread across your face, and you reached up to cup his cheek and bring his face closer to yours to kiss him once again. It was passionate and soft, filled with the emotion you couldn't speak aloud. He'd thought about marrying you someday. You were floating on air, you were so happy.

When he finally pulled away, there was a hazy look in his eyes, one you were certain was mirrored in your own. After a moment, a mischievous smirk suddenly sprang to his face.

"Would you like to know what else you told me?"

"No. Nope. No way did I tell you anything else. Uh-uh." You folded your arms defiantly, turning your head to break away from his gaze as heat blossomed in your cheeks once again.

"Oh, but this is the best part!" He brought his fingers down to skitter gently across your belly, forcing you to unfold your arms as giggles spurted from your lips. "You informed me you'd like to - how did you put it? 'Have my babies.'"

"No I didn't!!" you squeaked, hiding your face in your hands once again.

"Yes you did! It was adorable, in fact." The amusement in his voice lessened your worry, glad that he took it in stride and not as the ramblings of a love-crazed woman. "Don't hide from me, darling!"

"I'm embarrassed - HEHEY!" Your arms dropped to your sides as he pinched his way up your ribs, being exceedingly cautious not to make you squirm too much and aggravate your injury. "THOHOMAS!"

"Ah, see, I told you that you only use my full name when you're trying to get me to stop tickling you," he teased, scratching softly at your sides. "That's when you informed me you don't actually mean it."

"I... ughh. I-hi am never gehetting sedation again," you whined.

"I certainly hope you won't need it for quite some time." He relented, leaning down to kiss your cheek before rising to his feet. "What can I get for you? You must be hungry, we've missed lunch."

"Oh, I can hobble over there, really-"

"Absolutely not. You're going to lie right there on that sofa and shower Toby with all the love he asks for while I wait on you and keep you comfortable."

"Are you sure? They must have sent us home with crutches, I'll have to learn-"

"Not another word." He walked away, refusing to listen to your protests any longer while he began to fix you lunch. You couldn't help but smile at his insistence on taking care of you. It really was sweet of him.

True to his word, Tom prepared lunch for both of you and delivered it to the sofa where you could eat without having to get up. Once you'd eaten, the exhaustion of the day began to set in, and your eyelids began to grow heavy.

"Are you gonna tickle me again if I try to nap?" you asked warily. Tom laughed, taking your plate with his to the sink.

"No, I think you deserve to enjoy a nap after everything you've been through today." You sat up before he returned so he could take a seat beside you on the sofa, then lay your head in his lap.

"This is much better than the pillow," you hummed groggily. His chest rumbled with a chuckle.

"I'm glad you've deemed me a satisfactory place to sleep," he teased, working his fingers through your hair. You let out a happy sigh as your eyes slipped closed, allowing yourself to fall asleep in the comfort of Tom's arms.

Surely your dreams would be filled with thoughts of your future wedding to the man who took such wonderful care of you, both your body and your heart.

#ticklish!reader #tickle fluff #tickle fic #familiar series #tom hiddelston x reader

[beyondspaceandstars]

Fireworks

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: mentions of anxiety, mental health, angst, worry (but happy ending!) Summary: The sound of fireworks in the middle of the night shakes Bucky awake so you try your best to comfort him. A/N: a little fourth of july fic inspired by my own dislike for fireworks but it works well here i think!

Masterlist

You awoke suddenly when you realized something was off. You were alone in the normally shared bed.

You had just barely registered this when you went to cuddle into Bucky but ended up finding, well, nothing. Nothing except for his half of the comforter that smelled like him. You frowned, forcing your tired eyes open in worry.

Frantically, in the dark, you sat up and searched for any sign of Bucky. You were really hoping he went to use the bathroom and you were just a paranoid girlfriend but then you heard a sniffle. It was so faint but you knew you had heard it. And it was coming from the…floor?

You peaked over on Bucky’s side and sure enough, there was your boyfriend shaking in fear on the floor. Heart-wrenching tears filled his eyes. A cheap blanket covered his lap. He barely looked up at you for a second before turning away, shoulders drooping in shame.

“Bucky?” You asked, worried beyond belief. “Is everything okay?”

He kept his eyes trained on the wall adjacent to the bed. “Yeah,” Bucky answered, weakly, “I’m fine. Go back to bed, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You ignored his dismissal and raced off the bed. You knelt in front of him but Bucky still wouldn’t look at you. “What happened?”

But then that’s where you heard it. The unmistakable boom of fireworks.

Brows furrowed in confusion, you looked over at the clock which was reading just a few minutes past midnight. On July 4th. Your heart sank. You had completely forgotten what day was upon you.

“The fireworks…” you sighed. “Bucky, I’m sorry, I forgot-,”

Bucky shook his head. “There’s nothing you could do, honey.”

“I-I could’ve stayed up with you or-or-,”

He cut off your panicked rambling by placing his hand in yours. Bucky finally looked at you - really looked at you - and your heart shattered. He looked so exhausted yet panicked. Sad but angry. And as if on some super cruel cue, another firework exploded in the sky, lighting up your shared bedroom in a flash. Bucky winced.

You sighed. “I really can’t do anything for you?”

“Just…” Bucky took a deep breath. “Just stay with me. Please.”

Wordlessly, you nodded and sat on the floor next to Bucky. He had a blanket situated on his lap which he offered half of it to you. You accepted and snuggled into him as another explosive pop rang from outside.

After a moment, Bucky surprised you and spoke again. “You know, I used to love fireworks.”

You hummed, curling your arm around his bicep, hugging him. “Yeah?”

Bucky nodded, now staring towards the window which was suddenly lit up by another display. "I and Steve liked to go watch fireworks," he explained. "We’d go for his birthday and, wow, how they would light up the night. I thought it was the coolest thing ever when we were kids. The city put on some crazy shows."

"I’m sorry they’re not so fun anymore," you mumbled, completely unsure of what to actually say. Glimpses into Bucky’s life before the incident were so rare but you tried to treasure every one of them. It probably didn’t help in the slightest that his brain correlated Steve with fireworks. When was your boyfriend going to catch a break?

But Bucky just shrugged, shaking his head slightly. "What about you?" He changed the subject. Natural deflection. "Do you like fireworks?"

"I never really hated them but they did use to annoy me," you admitted. "Mainly because they’d scare my dog and that always made me upset."

Bucky let out a light chuckle which caught you by surprise. You held his gaze for a moment, shooting him a small smile before the moment was crushed by another firework exploding in the sky. You groaned.

"Why do people do this?" You huffed. "I get it, it’s the fourth of July, but it just hit midnight. Is it even legal around here?"

"You going to rat them out if it’s not?" Bucky teased.

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Maybe," you shrugged. "If that’s what it takes."

Another boom rang out and Bucky shifted towards you. "I’m sure they’ll be done soon," he said to you but it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. "They can’t go all night, right?"

"You might be underestimating the American spirit."

Boom! Pop!

Bucky sighed in annoyance with each electrifying sound. "Yeah, you may be right."

That was enough for you. Just sitting here with him wasn’t really cutting it. You needed to do more.

"Maybe we should get out of here," you suggested. Bucky looked at you, confused, so you explained, "I read somewhere once that it may help to be farther away from the firework displays. Off in nature or something like that."

"I’ll take any suggestions you have at this point," Bucky admitted something shined in through the windows of the room. You were quite relieved he was willing to do more than sit on the floor. Not to mention he was actually letting you help him. You gripped Bucky’s hand tightly and you two stood up.

Foregoing any proper attire besides your everyday pajamas, you two packed some water and snacks before heading to your car. Bucky let you take the reins with driving which you didn’t mind. You only had a vague idea of a place on the outskirts of town that would work but, at this point, driving anywhere away from the chaos of the neighborhood was totally fine with both of you.

You drove about thirty minutes out of town until you hit an open woodland area. It seemed like some normal forest grounds filled with hiking trails but the specifics didn’t really matter. What it really offered was a lack of fireworks. Sure, some could be heard in muffled fashion and even seen way off in the distance, just above the tree line, but they were no longer right next door. You looked over at Bucky who was taking in the area. He already looked much more relaxed.

"This is nice," he commented.

You smiled and turned off the car. You two grabbed water from your packed bag. "I’m glad you like you," you said. "I was kind of worried there’d be campgrounds of tourists lighting more displays but it seems like we’re in the clear."

Bucky nodded slowly as he took a sip of water. His eyes were looking around lovingly at the trees. He even watched a few fireworks lighting up the sky back towards town. The sound was reduced greatly making it just a pretty mirage of colors. Even you were getting into it.

"Thank you," Bucky whispered.

You frowned. "Of course, Bucky. I just wanted to help."

"Y-You shouldn’t have to, though-,"

You shook your head insistently. "Don’t. I wanted to help. I’m so glad you’re feeling better out here."

"God," Bucky sighed, "what would I do without you?"

You let out a light laugh. "You wouldn’t know this cool forest existed."

Bucky agreed, "I guess that’s true." A beat. "But in all seriousness, sweetheart, thank you. I’m actually beginning to enjoy this Fourth of July."

"We could come back here later," you thought out loud, "and bring food for a picnic or something. That could be both fun. And certainly, keep us out of the action."

"I think that could be perfect," Bucky mumbled and looked over at you. When your eyes met, your boyfriend didn’t hesitate to lean in, stealing a kiss from you. You smiled, pulling him in for just one more.

This could even be a make-out spot, you thought. Picnics. Make-out. Lack of colorful explosions. Maybe a new Fourth of July tradition was in the making for you two.

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #avengers #mcu fic #mcu #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel #angst #one shot #bucky x reader

[bubblyhoney]

sarah i have thought of another fic request or like a cute idea i guess! i didn’t have anyone in mind when i thought of it so you can write it for whoever you want honestly :)

okay so the reader is a streamer but streams games like animal crossing, standew valley, etc. then (insert who you’re writing for) says they don’t like that game, but later ends up buying it and the reader is like “i thought you said you didn’t like this game” and they’re like “well i like you” and they confuses their feelings and they end up playing the game together and reader gives them a tour of their island or farm

i feel like this request isn’t good, but the scenario seemed cute and i wanted to share it. sorry if this is confusing or just too specific cuz i know it can be hard to write requests like that! but yeah i hope it gives you inspiration and you like the request <3

new horizons

warnings: language, a Marvel reference (hint: natasha said it about tony), stupid idiots who don’t realize they like each other, use of pet names, Uno rage, Hasan Piker's presence

words: 1473

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

A/N: i’ve been trying to catch up a little on my requests (i’ve only got a couple so i’m not super overwhelmed) but school and outside life has been taking up most of my time so this one took me a while to make! tbh— ive never played animal crossing so i did google some of the game mechanics and i apologize if anything is inaccurate about the game…. but i liked relaxing and writing this cute one so thank you for requesting hails :3

requests/inbox status: open

-

“This game is trash.”

Your head quirks, fingers stopped on the screen. You’re in the process of giving your character a cute new nickname; it’s kind of hard to decide between “awkward dude” and “elderly skater”.

“Excuse me?” Your chat comes alive with emotes and ‘KEKW’s, obviously entertained by you and your almost-more-than-friends-friend.

There’s a story for that later.

Sapnap’s rough laugh comes through your headset and he audibly swallows, the sound of a water bottle dropping onto his desk echoing.

“I’m just saying—it’s boring. It’s like Minecraft but you don’t like… do anything.” The grainy image of his bearded face shifts and you see him pull out his phone.

“It’s— you can’t even compare it to Minecraft! It’s a completely different game system—you actually interact with other people live in the game.” You huff out a dramatic sigh, slumping in your chair with a pout. “Just because you go into this lucid state where all you know is ‘touch block, hit George’ doesn’t mean this game isn’t fun.” (He scoffs at your awful impression of his voice. Your viewers love it.)

“Jeez,” he mumbles, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Touched a nerve there, bud.”

You roll your eyes, getting back to the village in the game.

“Don't ‘bud’ me.”

The call falls comfortably quiet, the sounds of him tapping obsessively on his phone and you clicking away filling the silence. A gentle bedroom-pop YouTube playlist remains in the background, prompting you to hum along and glance at the chat to see a flood of “check twitter” and “Y/N TWITTER!!”.

“What happened on Twitter?” You mumble, confused, and pull the website up on another monitor. Sapnap just makes a curious noise, swinging back and forth in a circle. “Oh my God,” you say to yourself, fingertips brushing your parted lips.

“What?”

“Hasan Piker just followed me and retweeted one of my not even remotely political old tweets. Like from a year ago.”

“That’s— wow. Congrats?” Sapnap’s voice cracks, and his ears flush pink the tiniest bit when you glance at his face on Discord.

“I’m gonna go on record and say that he could get it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

Sapnap falls uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, so you look past the frenzied chat and to his screen— wait. He muted and turned his camera off.

“Um,” you start, furiously typing question marks in your private chat. “Where’d you go?” You mute and turn screen share off for your stream, concerned that he might’ve fallen off his chair and broken his neck and needs you to call the ambulance.

The characteristic ding of a twitter notification sounds through your bedroom, and you look at your phone quickly.

“That’s where I went.”

Sapnap Tweeted: “all Y/U stans can choke on my dick”.

“Jesus, Sapnap,” you say, and rapidly refresh to read the replies. This tweet was deleted. “That’s so— that barely makes sense, bro. Why— literally what?”

His snicker floods your ears and you relax in your chair. Crisis: averted. “Don’t fucking— what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought it would be funny,” he offers, shrugging, and fiddles with the straw in his water bottle, smile fading. “And also Hasan pisses me off.”

“Why, ‘cause he wants a piece of this? Jealous?” You think back to your viewers, knowing they’re probably spamming question marks and coming to ludacris conclusions about both of your absences. No offense to them. You remember your stan days very vividly.

“I mean, kinda.” He rubs once at his nose, glancing at the camera (and what feels like you) before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Wow.” You watch one strand of his hair fall from beneath his hat and brush against his full eyebrows. “I’m uh—I’ll get back to my stream. You coming? Or is it time for a Sapnap-snack?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snorts and leans his chin onto the balance of his arm.

“That means you like to take a little snack break mid-stream and come back approximately nine hours later and you didn’t even eat.”

“You know what— fuck you.” He flicks the camera as you laugh at the look on his face.

The teasing mood is easily kept as you switch games from Animal Crossing to Uno, all the while slamming Sapnap with +4’s and skipping the newly-arrived BadBoyHalo at any chance you can get. It unironically pisses him off and he has to take a Sapnap-snack break midway through (only a fifteen minute break this time, during which you and Bad take a “What Kind of Bread Are You?” quiz). The rest of the night is filled with devious cackles (you), loud and sudden bangs that sound suspiciously like someone hitting their desk in anger (Sap) and the stupid barking of Rat, AKA Lucy (Bad). She’s cute but a menace to the sound quality of Bad’s microphone. You sign off stream around 2 a.m. with various forms of thanks and kisses blown to the camera. It’s been a refreshing night, actually; you’ve been busy organizing a partnership stream all week and all your friends have been busy filming or editing or what-not. Quackity had time for a little Roblox every couple of days, though. He’s got your back.

The next time you see Sapnap is after a two hour stream of him try-harding in Valorant and you finishing responding to an email from your partnership in the VC.

“Okay, I’m back.” You hear him shift in his chair and click a couple more times on his keyboard. You perk up in your chair, closing the email browser you’d been looking at.

“Do you want to play anything else? I’m down for anything.”

“Absolutely not Uno. You can go to hell for giving me 6 cards that one time,” he jabs. You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Okay, the +4 was on me but it’s Bad who gave you the last two. That’s not my fault, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, trailing off as the clicking of his keyboard stops. “Hey, um—Guess what?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears at the tone of his voice. He sounds nervous; that’s never good.

“I’m scared to guess,” you try, playing with a little Minecraft dog figurine you have on your desk with fidgety fingers. “What?”

“I bought Animal Crossing.”

Silence. You stare at his discord icon blankly, trying to reroute the wires of your brain.

“Tell me you love it.”

“Well… I haven’t actually played it— but you said you liked it, so.”

“So,” you repeat him, ears warming but continuing on. “Is that what you tell all your friends when you buy something they like? That it's because of them?”

He seems to choose his next words carefully, pausing a beat to consider your questions.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on all of my friends.”

“You—what?” You stutter, caught off guard and stumbling. What did he just say? “Don’t tell me you mean you have a crush on me.”

“I’m almost positive I just did.” His discord icon stares right back at you, taunting.

“You know, you’re very casual for someone who just admitted they like-like me.” Your cheeks flush pink and you have to press a hand to your chest to keep your breathing sounding stable.

“Yeah, I’m kind of cool like that,” he offers, a huff of a laugh punctuating his statement. The conversation moves into a lull that you can’t help but know is because of you. He must expect you to say something about it, right?

“You are very cool, Sapnap.” You tilt back in your chair, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for your next words. “And—Isortakindofhaveacrushonyoutoo.”

He must understand you, for you can hear the grin in his voice when he asks “Really?”

“Y-yeah.” You feel like a preteen again, all shaky and giddy in front of the boy you just asked to a middle school dance.

“Um, alright. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you answer genuinely and swing in a happy little circle in your chair. “We could play Animal Crossing.”

“I’m down.”

You swear you’ve never heard more beautiful words.

He keeps his camera off for most of the time you two play, too focused on creating his island and asking you questions about how to fish to turn it on. He silently flips it on when you help him decorate his lawn, needing to show you in real-time the decorations he has bought and where you think he should put them. He looks cute. I mean, of course he does. He always does.

You tell him goodbye late in the night, eyes saying a little more than just “see you tomorrow”.

You like him. He likes you.

It’s even better when you two have matching gardens.

-

A/N: anybody and everybody (especially my precious hailey) let me know what you think!! :]

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x gn!reader #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap drabble #sapnap oneshot #bubblyhoneyfics #honey answers #mcyt x reader #🥚except small

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Red

Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3680

Warnings: Kink and trauma. You know, in case you forgot whose blog you were on! Night terrors. Non-graphic flashbacks to violence, very graphic smut. Bucky’s head is just not a very fun place? References to brainwashing and torture. Kink discovery, including some hitting/slapping during sex and some power/control fantasies, all within the context of a very happy relationship. It goes down dark but there’s a distinctly soft aftertaste. 

A/N: For @cockslut-padalecki and her Decade Under The Influence challenge. My prompt was “The Crimson” by Atreyu. Thanks for always hosting the absolute best challenges, and congrats on the milestone! 

Pre-reads by @thoughtslikeaminefield @mskathywriteswords and @fangirlxwritesx67​. Inspiration from that scene where Sebastian Stan gets slapped. You know the one I mean. 

The companion fic to this will be coming soon! It’s significantly darker and way outside my wheelhouse, but please let me know if you want a tag. 

The Soldier stalks silently down the hallway to the bedroom, scanning the shadows. 

The closet. 

Something itches, deep under the ice: knowledge that closets are for hiding — 

— a small girl, giggling in the back corner of the closet — 

— ready or not, here I come — 

— but those frozen things don’t belong to the Soldier. 

He opens the door and finds the woman on the floor, trying to hide in the darkness. He picks her up by the throat. Moonlight from the open window glints off her wide eyes and the Soldier’s metal hand. She fights back, clawing at his arm uselessly. 

He waits for her to stop struggling. They always do. 

Bucky opens his eyes and bolts upright, gritting his teeth against the sweaty, shivery wave of nausea. 

It takes a moment for the numbing chill of the Soldier’s memory to fade. 

He knows it’s a memory. He lost so many things in the deep emptiness of cryo-sleep, but he couldn’t bury them forever, and now they claw their way out while he dreams. The darkness gives him back his life, one nightmare at a time. 

Sometimes he wakes up screaming. Sometimes he wakes up convinced that the bed under him is soaked with blood, and it takes a few awful seconds to realize that he just sweated through the sheets. Other times he’s paralyzed in the darkness, convinced he’s back in the cryo chamber, and he wants to punch and claw and fight his way out, wants to see the sun again, but he tried that one too many times — he learned his lesson about wanting things. 

At least he didn’t wake her this time. She makes a breathy sound as she stirs, but she’s still sound asleep, and when he inspects his hands in the glow of her night light, there’s no trace of red. 

She got the light about two months ago, when he started sleeping over. She didn’t ask him, didn’t mention it — he would’ve been embarrassed, if she asked, but it helps. She helps. 

He’s goddamn crazy about her. It hasn’t been long, but he knows this is it for him. 

Bucky curls up facing her. Her hair is a mess, and there’s a damp patch of drool on the pillow under her slack mouth, and she’s beautiful. It’s amazing that she trusts him enough to fall asleep next to him. 

He closes his eyes. This time he doesn’t dream.

The end credits of the movie start to scroll down the screen, and she makes a grumbling noise that means she doesn’t want to get up and turn the TV off. Her little apartment is full of the rich smell of whatever she’s got in the oven, and the day has been so sweetly domestic that Bucky wonders when everything will start to twist and distort and go bloody. He must be hallucinating. 

But the hallucinations always had a sort of airbrushed quality to them when they started, an inhuman perfection that felt easy, like he was floating. Right now his stomach is growling, and when she shifts, her elbow digs into his side, and she’s a heavy comforting warmth on top of him. 

The hallucinations were the product of his own brain, which might be why they came back all too quickly when he started to recover his memories. Even when he couldn’t remember his sisters’ faces, he remembered the drug-fueled torture that took place behind his closed eyelids, scenes that started like fantasies and ended like nightmares. 

Most memories from before the fall are weak and hazy, sepia-toned afterimages that overlay the living world like ghosts. Other things bleed through the decades, making it hard to keep track of whose memories he’s seeing. The Soldier’s memories are always sharp and cold, and they’re the hardest to shake off. Sometimes they’re triggered by the present, and it’s always a surprise; he’s stepping into a crosswalk and the past is washing over him like — 

The water from the hose is freezing cold as the handler rinses off the blood — 

— and he’s still staring down at the slushy puddle, but — 

— the Soldier keeps his eyes down, clenching his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering, watching the red swirl over the cold cracked tile and disappear down the drain, and — 

Bucky has to fight to hold on to the honking taxis and the Brooklyn stink, because the cryo chamber is quiet like a coffin in the last few seconds before he’s frozen into unconsciousness, and — 

— and sometimes he feels frozen even when the dreams dissolve, even when he knows they’re only dreams. 

The frigid paralysis was mental more than physical, for the Soldier, and that’s a hard thing to shake. The raw human parts of him iced over, head and heart numb while his body carried on following orders. 

She sits up and stretches, making her shirt ride up, and he notices bruises on her hips, wrapping around the side. 

“Did I do that?” he asks, voice thin. 

She looks down like she didn’t notice. “Probably.” 

He tugs the waistband of her yoga pants down a little and finds the shape of a handprint, stained purple. She twists to show him a matching set on the other side. They’re more defined on the side he was gripping with his metal hand last night. He feels cold all over. 

“Sorry.” 

“No biggie.” 

He’s too scared to meet her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never hurt you.” 

“What if I asked you to?” she tosses back, playful and easy. 

Bucky doesn’t know how to react to that. He can’t let her see how badly he wants that, so he just freezes like a deer in headlights, forcing himself to go still, to shut down, to say nothing.  

“Whoa, hey, don’t do that,” she says, and she moves into his space slowly, deliberately, giving him time to tell her to stop. He blinks at her, and she smiles, soothing. 

He spent the first month of their relationship waiting for her to turn and run. It’s gotten better, but… 

“Why the hell do you trust me?” he blurts out. 

She frowns, and hesitates, and he wants to reach up and smooth out the little frown line that forms between her eyebrows, but he doesn’t. She curls up against him and kisses his jaw. 

“Would you ever choose to hurt me?” she asks. 

“No.” 

“There you go.” He feels the movement when she shrugs, as if it’s that easy. “You control your choices. That’s it.” 

“But I —” 

“No buts,” she interrupts, and her voice is firm. “I choose to trust you and you don’t get to talk me out of it.” 

Bucky lets out a huff of not-quite-laughter at that. She’s stubborn as hell when she wants to be, and he knows better than to argue. 

“Okay,” he says, and wraps his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. She settles closer, her breath a warm damp tickle against the side of his neck. 

His body used to be a weapon. 

“You can’t blame yourself for things that are out of your control,” she mumbles, as if she heard him. 

He takes a deep breath and says it again: “Okay.” 

He can see her reflection in the mirror; she bites her lip, teeth white against her bright red lipstick, trying to hold back, but the whimpers are getting louder by the second as he fucks her harder. She’s bracing herself with her forearms on the sink, her entire body shaking with each sharp thrust. 

“Shhhh,” Bucky says, half-laughing, but he doesn’t slow down. 

He’s pretty sure this was her plan all along. They barely made it an hour into the party before she tugged him into the bathroom, and usually he would protest, but he’s been half-hard since he first saw her in that damn outfit. 

She opened the door earlier looking like a pinup, complete with glossy curls and red lips and this dress: flared skirt, nipped-in waist, curves threatening to spill over the scooped-low neckline. He had just stuttered for a few seconds as a wisp of memory cast a sepia glow over her pleased smile. 

He used to have a dog-eared print of one of those calendar girls, and it was tame compared to some that were carried to war, but there was something warm in her smile that made him hold onto it. He used to daydream about her waiting at home, welcoming him at the door, when everything else was heavy and grey. He used to look at her smile when he couldn’t bear to close his eyes, knowing he’d only see blood. They took it when he was captured, of course, but he used to imagine — 

— this, he used to imagine this, the way the skirt is rucked up around her hips and she’s bent at the waist, the way she stretches open around the shiny-wet length of his cock. 

He has a flash of certainty that this is just a fantasy, something he’s imagining desperately as he fucks his own fist and tries not to make a sound, pressing his other palm to his mouth to muffle his labored breathing. He’s picturing this so vividly that when he opens his eyes and sees the stars, framed by the caved-in ceiling of another bombed-out shell of a building, he’ll have to fight back tears of disappointment. 

The sight of her face in the mirror is utterly pornographic, threatening to send him over the edge too soon, but when he looks down, he can see the way her ass bounces and jiggles as she shoves herself back to meet each thrust, and that’s goddamn obscene too. Bucky’s imagination has never been this good. 

She’s so close, too close to stay silent, and just as she lets out a high-pitched, keening moan, there are footsteps right outside the door. 

He reacts instinctively, before he can think better of it; he slaps his hand over her mouth, muffling the sound against his palm — the metal one, he realizes, a split-second too late. 

Their eyes meet in the mirror for one wild heartbeat. Her skin looks dangerously soft under silver fingers that could so easily break the fragile jawbone they grip. 

Then her eyes roll back in her head, and her orgasm blindsides both of them with its intensity. If he wasn’t silencing her, she would’ve shouted, he’s pretty sure; she spasms violently against his grip, writhing like she’s trying to shake him off, and — 

— he imagines her struggling, fighting back, until he pins her against the wall and — 

— it hits him like a gut-punch. He doubles over, curling himself around her as he comes with a rough shocked grunt, and the white-out lightning-bolt electroshock feel of it is so incredible he forgets, for a few seconds; he just buries his face in those curls and kisses the nape of her neck. 

He straightens up and realizes her lipstick is smeared over the metal hand, deep crimson red. 

“God, we’re a mess,” she laughs breathlessly. She turns to kiss him, eyes sparkling, and then they have to clean up, put themselves back together, and he brushes it off. 

It was probably a memory, a ghost whose features he confused with hers in one fevered second. Unwanted memories — 

— dreams — flashbacks — fantasies — hallucinations — 

— invade his reality every day. 

It didn’t feel like a memory, though. 

She smiles, and there’s no doubt in his mind that the smile is real, so Bucky swallows his guilt and smiles back. Her hand is warm in his. 

There’s a knife in his hand and blood on the floor. 

It’s messy, but those were his orders. Easier to frame the mistress this way. At least the carving knife was sharp. Red drips down the blade onto the metal fingers.  

He’s about to place it next to the corpse when he hears the gasp. The mistress had been asleep four minutes ago, but people are unpredictable that way. 

Messy. 

The Soldier pivots, finds her standing in the doorway, hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She’s paralyzed by fear, like a deer in headlights as he stalks closer. Usually they run. Sometimes they fight back. This one just stares. 

“I won’t say anything,” she whispers. “I didn’t see —” He grabs her wrist, and she shrieks, trying to twist away, until he pins her against the wall and holds her in place. Tears start to roll down her cheeks. “No, please, I’ll do anything you want — just don’t kill me! You can — anything, I promise, I won’t struggle! Do you want —” 

“Want” is buried deep under the ice. “Want” is for bodies that are warm and soft and human. The Soldier is a weapon.

He presses the knife into her hand and forces her fingers to close around the handle. She was supposed to be asleep. 

She’ll be blamed, one way or another, but maybe it’s better this way. Cleaner. 

No witnesses. It’s an order. 

Bucky wakes up. He’s trembling, sitting up with his hands twisted in the sheets, but it’s not as bad as it could be. She’s sitting up next to him, one gentle hand on his chest as she watches with wide sad eyes. 

“Sorry,” he chokes out. “Fuck, I hate waking you up.” 

“Almost time anyway,” she says, which is when he realizes that it’s morning. Sunlight is streaming in through the sheer curtains. He settles back against the headboard, taking it in. They’re both naked, with her big downy comforter around their waists, and the residual chill of memory thaws immediately in the cozy warmth of her bed. 

She leans in hesitantly and brushes her lips against his. He can read the worry plain on her face — she doesn’t know what he needs right now — but he tugs her onto his lap, tilts his head back, mouth opening easily under hers for slow lazy kisses that stretch like taffy and then turn deep and dirty. She swears like a sailor as she sinks down slowly onto his cock. 

Christ, she’s gorgeous. 

It must be real. He could never hallucinate something so flawed and incredible as the way she looks naked, the stretch marks under his palms, the calluses on her fingers when she cups his jaw, the way she moans when he plants his feet on the bed and fucks up into her. 

She’s flushed and dewy with sweat, moaning in the sharp bitten-off way that means he found just the right angle, and her thighs are shaking hard enough that he has to grip her hips and hold her steady. He can feel her starting to get close, clenching and flooded around him, when her alarm goes off. 

“Cocksucking motherfucker,” she snarls. 

They both look helplessly at the phone, just out of easy reach on the nightstand. Bucky’s tempted to just ignore it, but she’s already leaning over. She twists at the waist but doesn’t stop rocking her hips down against him, squeezing in little pulses like she can’t help herself, so he settles her more firmly on his lap, holding her weight and anchoring her as she reaches for it. He works his right hand down between them, an awkward angle that’s totally worth it when he can rub her clit with the pad of his thumb and feel her spasm around his cock. 

“Five more minutes,” he suggests breathlessly. 

“Not gonna need that long if you keep doing that.” She trembles and almost collapses before finally grabbing the phone, and she hits the snooze button immediately. 

He’s already rolling his hips, grinding in deep, and he must hit something just right at the same moment she starts to straighten up; it makes her twitch, jerking uncontrollably against him as she moves, and her elbow cracks across his jaw, snapping his head to the side hard enough to rattle his teeth. 

“Shit!” she hisses, and then: “I’m so sorry, I — are you —” 

But the rough throb of pain hit like a swell of heat in Bucky’s gut, making him jerk up into her and shudder with pleasure. He lets his head loll, taking a deep heaving breath and letting it out as a moan. 

It’s not until he tilts his head back to look at her stunned face that he realizes what just happened. His cheeks burn but she doesn’t look disgusted; her eyes go all heavy-lidded and she bites her lip as she starts to ride him again, swiveling her hips. 

He’s opening his mouth to make some excuse, to deny it, when she leans in for a bruising kiss: teeth scraping his lower lip, a whimper rough in her throat, cunt silky-hot and soaked, so good his head is spinning. 

Then she asks raggedly, “Do you want me to do that again?” 

Without even thinking about it, he blurts out, “Yes.” 

Her palm connects with his cheek, a sharp sting that draws a guttural sound from deep in his chest. He moves on pure primal instinct, gripping her hips to slam her down on his cock. 

From there it’s rough and frantic and desperate. He’s only dimly aware of the way she moans, bucking against him, the way they’re moving against each other like animals, the way she bites his lip so hard he tastes copper and then he’s gone, coming so hard his vision goes white with the first intense pulses of it. She shudders as she follows him, riding out the shocks of pleasure with her forehead pressed to his and her hands in his hair. 

He shivers against her, breath hitching as reality washes in like ice water. 

“I can feel you freaking out,” she mumbles. “What, they didn’t have kink in the thirties?”

It surprises Bucky enough that he lets out a huff of laughter. “No. Not exactly.” 

“Why is this freaking you out?” 

He stutters for a second before he manages, “What’s wrong with me?” 

She sits up and looks at him intently. “Fucking nothing.” 

“That should be the last thing I want,” Bucky mutters, cheeks burning. 

“That’s not how it works,” she snaps. “Sex isn’t — it doesn’t always make sense. It’s messy.” 

“I’ve had enough of hurting people for a fuckin’ lifetime.” 

There’s something vulnerable in her sheepish half-smile. “Sometimes your body likes shit it shouldn’t. You can’t control what gets you off. Believe me, sweetheart.” 

He blinks, ready to question that, and she leans in for a quick kiss. As if on cue, her alarm goes off again. 

“Fuck.” 

“I gotta go,” she says reluctantly. “But later — later we’re going to talk about some things. Okay?” 

He doesn’t say it out loud, but he thinks it very clearly in that moment: I love you. 

“Okay.” 

The Soldier pins her brutally against the wall, one hand around her wrists, the other around her throat. He doesn’t squeeze, not yet, just holds her there and savors the thrill; she’s writhing and lashing out at him like a caged animal, but he’s got her and she knows it. 

It’s beautiful, the way she snarls and tries to struggle. 

He wants —

 — so this must be a normal dream, not a memory, but — 

— he wants to fuck her just like this, up against the wall, and —

— his hips jerk and his cock throbs, and — 

— fuck, he wants her. 

“Baby?” Her voice comes out as a sleep-slurred moan. 

He tries to blink away the dream, but instead he’s rolling over and pinning her, rocking his hips down before he can stop himself. She sucks in a breath, spreading her legs to meet the next slow thrust, and she blinks dazedly up at him, mouth dropping open as they rut against each other. 

“What was it?” she asks, raspy and heated. 

He lets out a pained sound and drops his head, hunching to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He’s so goddamn hard, so close, all over a fucked-up dream, and — 

“I was holding you — up against the wall. Your wrists.” 

“Yeah?” she says, voice smoky and eager. “Remember what we talked about?” 

“Traffic lights. Red if you want me to stop.” 

“Do it.”  

Oh. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Fuck yes.” 

He snatches her wrists and crosses them over her head, watching the way her lashes flutter at the touch of metal, the way she bites her lip. She shifts under him, squirming until the length of him is slotted up against her slickness and her legs are up around his hips. 

He slides in slow, relishing every inch, her body welcoming him with living dripping heat. She arches up, and he adjusts his grip on her wrists, squeezing slightly as he braces himself. All he wants in the entire damn universe is to drive into her, piston his hips until she’s screaming, but he starts to fuck her with steady even thrusts, holding back, trying to let go of the last lingering doubts. 

“Doesn’t this scare you?” Bucky asks hoarsely. “That you’re trapped.” 

She lets out a moan that sure as hell doesn’t sound like fear. This isn’t a dream any more, but it still feels surreal. 

“Yellow,” she says.  

“Shit. What’s wrong?” He tries to pull away, but she’s got her ankles hooked, keeping him in place with her legs. He lets go of her wrists, at least, and hauls in a deep breath, trying to make sense of that fierce expression on her face. 

“Nothing. I just wanted you to see that you’re in control. You chose to stop.” 

He swallows hard. “Yeah. I did.” 

“Stop punishing your body for wanting this,” she says. 

His breath catches, and for a moment all he can do is stare. She gives him a smile so soft it threatens to rip him open.

Then he curls his fingers around her wrists again — they’re still crossed, right where he left them. He waits for her nod. 

“Green.” 

Companion fic is here. 

#decadeundertheinfluencechallenge #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #MCU #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader

[fific7]

Ticket to Ride - Part 2

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance, in which he gets a taste of his own medicine.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟, 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕙

𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The aircraft door opened and you stepped out gratefully onto the air jetty. You weren’t scared of flying, you just didn’t like being cooped up in a flying tube for several hours on end. Up an escalator and along a short corridor and then you were able to see outside through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sky was beginning to shade into the colours it would take on for dusk. It looked like it had been a nice day and you hoped the good weather would continue for your stay.

Karen had texted you while you were sitting on the plane at JFK, waiting for it to push back. Frank had told her that Micro had tracked your phone to the airport so boy, were you glad you’d turned off your old phone and switched to the new one when you did. She’d also told you that Billy had asked him to find out where you were headed, and your heart sank. You knew it wouldn’t take long for Micro’s vast and nerdy computer skills to find you but then again, London was a huge city and they’d have no idea whereabouts in it you’d gone to ground, thanks to your new ‘burner phone’.

You were feeling super-excited. This was beginning to feel like an action movie, with you on the run from the bad guys.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“London??!!” Billy shouted, making Frank quickly move his phone away from his ear on the other end. “Yeah, London,” he replied.

Billy was back at his usual post by the window. “I mean... obviously I knew she was gonna fly somewhere but I thought it would the West coast, Miami, Seattle, Alaska... somewhere like that. But to go to a whole other continent....!!!!” Frank sighed, “Yeah, Bill, sounds like she’s really not keen to bump into you anytime soon.” “Yeah, thanks for remindin’ me.” “Bill, you brought this on yourself, buddy.” “I know!” yelled Billy, “An’ all I wanna do is get her back and make it up to her for the rest of my life, and all I know is she’s in London! Do you know how big that place is?” “Yeah, I do. And t’be honest... I dunno how you’re gonna even try to find her over there.”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. “I mean...” Frank continued, “I’m guessin’ you are gonna go over there and try to find her, Bill?”

Billy’s shoulder twitched upwards briefly, and he stared intently out the window at the New York skyline.

“Yeah, Frankie... yeah, I damn well am.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d left two of your big suitcases and the backpacks in a luggage storage facility at JFK, travelling with just the one suitcase and a large shoulder bag. You took the overground Heathrow Express to Paddington before negotiating a change onto the Tube to reach Tower Hill DLR station, boarding one of the driverless trains out to Canary Wharf. Settling back into your seat, feeling pretty proud of yourself for managing not to get hopelessly lost.

Your AirBnB apartment was in a part of the city called Docklands, beside the Thames on the Isle of Dogs. It was an area of shiny skyscraper offices and fancy apartment blocks built round the old docks, and your accommodation for the next two weeks was in one of those. You were suitably impressed when you got inside it... open plan, all trendy furniture and gleaming fittings. Big, big windows with views of the river and the tall buildings.

Your phone chimed and you saw a text from Karen on your notifications. Taking your suitcase and bag into the bedroom, you went back out to the main area and sat on the sofa to read it. Oh. Billy now knew you were in London, and had apparently booked a flight over - he’d be arriving tomorrow. Your heart rate sped up; Billy was a sniper, used to finding, stalking, watching his prey. But, you told yourself, he had no idea whereabouts in the city you were and no way of finding you.

Relax.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy stepped off the Heathrow Express, looking around for signs indicating where the taxi rank was. He’d been looking at the Tube map during the train journey. Nah, fuck that.

He was too wired to even think about getting to London Bridge on the Underground, or ‘Tube’ as he found out Londoners called it. His brain had been working overtime trying to figure out how the hell he was going to find her in a city the size of London. She’d stay central, surely - she wouldn’t head to the suburbs, he felt confident of that.

Getting into the first taxi in the queue, he drawled out, “The Shard, please.” The taxi driver nodded and pulled away from the station without saying anything. Thank fuck, thought Billy, I can’t be dealing with a talker right now. But just as the thought had left his head, the driver’s London accent said, “First time in London, guv?” Billy sighed, “No. No, it isn’t.” In fact it was, but he wasn’t about to tell the driver that. He’d only end up getting taken on the ‘scenic route’, double the time, double the price.

The driver grunted and turned up the radio... really annoying music could now be heard but Billy would take that over inane small talk any day. He looked out of the windows at the city streets and his mind went back to his mission. Mission impossible. Finally he saw the river and the taxi crossed a wide bridge before pulling up outside the lofty skyscraper that was The Shard. According to the blurb he’d read on some travel website it was the tallest in Western Europe, and while there were taller buildings in New York, the shape of this one made it look quite dramatic.

He paid and got out of the taxi with his expensive wheeled duffel bag, heading to the Shangri La entrance of The Shard and going inside. (It’s one of the priciest hotels in London - of course). Checked in at reception on the 35th floor, he was then whisked up to his room on the 52nd by another express lift. The windows were huge and the views spectacular.

Once again, he was gazing out of a window at a cityscape.

Where is she?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your first full day, you occupied yourself with getting to know the surrounding area, doing some grocery shopping and sitting on your large balcony, enjoying the view and relaxing with a glass of wine.

Every time a plane went overhead you wondered if Billy was on it - he was due here today. You shook yourself a little, you’d just have to stop thinking about it. He wouldn’t find you.

Your mind wandered unbidden to his recent behaviour. Knowing Billy was a player from day one, you’d still got involved with him. More fool you. Another old cliché.... you thought you’d be the one to change him. And you thought you had. You’d dated him for a few months, he seemed to have ditched his old hound-dog ways and when he’d asked you to move in with him, you’d agreed without thinking it over too deeply.

Now, looking back, it seems like you’d made a big mistake.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Micro had spent quite some time constructing a query table that he could run against accommodation reservations in London for her arrival day. She had no reason to book under another name and he’d just have to run with that assumption.

When Billy had come directly to him instead of going via Frank to ask that he try and track down her reservation, Micro had been too scared to refuse. Billy still really unsettled him - he always reminded him of a circling predator.

This query would take a while to run. He hit the go button and wandered off to work on another project while it tunnelled its way through layer upon layer of data.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was pacing his swanky hotel room like a caged panther. He’d given up on the idea of roaming the streets of London trying to spot his target, that was just one dumbass idea. He’d never find her that way, much better to just wait on that geeky twat to come up with the answer with his internet wizardry.

He’d spoken to Frank earlier, who had nothing new to report. Billy wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty at cutting him out of the loop on his recent ask to Micro. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Frank wouldn’t mention it to Karen. Much as he loved him like a brother, Frank was a big sap when it came to Karen and he knew he’d give in and tell her, probably sooner rather than later.

However Frank had told him that Madani had called earlier that day, wanting to know where Billy was and why she couldn’t get in touch with him. Billy had figured out that his girl had got herself a new phone, and he’d followed suit. Which is why Dinah hadn’t been able to reach him. “Whaddya tell her?”he’d asked. “That you were on an overseas operation and were incommunicado.” “Good,” nodded Billy, “....that takes care of that little problem for a while at least,” feeling a sense of relief.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Frank cut the call, a grim smile on his face. He hadn’t been completely straight with Billy, but it was for his own good. What he’d told Madani, however, had been the unadulterated gospel truth.

He’d said to her that Billy had hared off to Europe in pursuit of his live-in girlfriend, who’d suspected him of cheating on her and left him. He was absolutely determined to get her back.

He’d taken great satisfaction in the dead silence on the other end of the line, eventually punctuated by an angry snort and the call being abruptly ended.

That ‘little problem’ was hopefully taken care of for good.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Micro looked at his phone as it beeped at him, the notification saying that his query was complete. That had taken much longer than he thought it would. Now he could only hope it hadn’t returned too many matches as he’d thought it prudent to run it on surname only.

He pulled up the results table and was pleased to see that there were only a thousand or so, he’d feared there would be many more. He scrolled through the list and quickly pinpointed the one he’d been looking for.

With a deep sigh he picked up his phone, typed “Wood Wharf, Water St, London E14”, a building and apartment number into a new message, then hit send. It would be the early hours of the following morning in London, so he very much doubted that Billy would leap out of bed and head right over there.

He finished eating his supper, drank a beer and settled down to watch TV when his conscience started bothering him. Should he? He shivered when he thought about what Russo might do to him if he found out.

Popping another bottle of beer open, he sat and contemplated what he should do for quite a while. He suddenly picked up his phone, sending a quick text to Frank telling him about the whole situation and including the fact that Russo now had her London address.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

While you were lounging on your balcony, sipping your wine and watching the world go by, it suddenly occurred to you that this would be a great base to work out of for a while. You messaged the estate agent and extended your stay to one month, with an option to extend if required.

Then, on a whim, you booked a flight to Barcelona early the next morning from City Airport - it was really close to your apartment even if the flights were a bit more expensive. You’d been doing a little research into other destinations to explore, and having a base in London to travel to and from made you feel much more comfortable. The W Barcelona had caught your eye while you’d been browsing for accommodation and as you were only going for a few nights, you’d booked in there.

Feeling extremely pleased with yourself, you got up and went into your bedroom, looking for a folded-up smaller travel bag you knew you’d packed in your luggage. Finding it, you began to choose some outfits for your short trip, thinking what a joy it was that you could now leave your large suitcase here.

But damn, you were going to have to be up early tomorrow. Best to get an early night, you thought, immediately yawning.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy shot up in bed as his phone chimed with Micro’s text. When he read the information in the text, contrary to Micro’s belief he did leap out of bed and started pulling on his clothes (Micro had forgotten that this was an ex-Marine he was dealing with here).

He sat back down on the bed and googled the location. Oh okay, East London.... Docklands. Too far to walk and he didn’t think the Tube ran at this hour. Then he pulled up the Uber app and booked an immediate pick-up.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Walking into the terminal building at City Airport, you were in the middle of a total yawning fit when a text came in. It was from Karen and you stopped, putting down your bag so you could read it.

Karen: Sorry to tell you this hon, but Billy went direct to Micro 🙄 and intimidated him into finding your London accom. Frank’s told him not to do that again no matter how much he’s shitting himself! Please take care of yourself 💋

You: Bastard 👿 thanks for the heads-up, I will do 😘

Picking your bags up again, you hurried over to one of the automated check-in machines to get your luggage tag.

Whoever had said ‘timing is everything’ had definitely got that right.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“Oi!!!” yelled an irate male voice. Billy turned his head to see a groggy-looking tousle-haired guy, obviously just having been woken up. “Keep the noise down!”

Billy said nothing, just gave the guy his death stare. His head quickly disappeared back inside his apartment.

After pressing the buttons of a few apartment numbers at the main entrance, someone had buzzed him in and he’d been pounding on her apartment door for the last five minutes. But there was no response, and he knew she wasn’t that heavy a sleeper.

He slid tiredly down onto the floor outside her door. Had she somehow known he was on his way over here? No.... how would she know that?

His head dropped down in momentary defeat and he ran his fingers through his hair, groaning.

She hadn’t moved on already, had she?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The plane lifted off the tarmac, and immediately you felt a huge sense of relief. You just weren’t ready to see Billy right now - you’d probably kill him if you did, ex-Marine or not.

Now you were off on your next adventure.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

London

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep @supernaturalcat7 @obscurilicious @strawb3rrydr3ss

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #ben barnes #the punisher 💀

[anxiousstark]

The Aura Painter | DOB

Painter! Dylan x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 12K (12.057)

Warnings: Mentions of sexism, masturbation (mutual or solo), unprotected sex (this is a fic, be safe), cum play, breeding kink, filthy tbh, some cliché romance scenes. This is my second time writing ‘smut’. But this is the first time writing something so long and so filthy, bear with me.

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve had in mind for so long. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed imagining it. And of course, writing it. If you do, please give it some love and share it. The biggest solo piece I’ve ever written!

All Rights Reserved. The author, me, don’t allow any type of copy or adaption.

BIG MASTERLIST  |  KO-FI

Words you must know for the fic:

Onism (n.) the awarness of how little of the world you will experience.

Heriaeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you canot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning. the grief of lost places of your past.

Elysian (adj.) beautiful or creative; divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.

.

The droplets of rain fell against the glass, leaving a trail which I followed with my gaze. The glistening tear of water disappeared before I could place my finger against the window and imitate that I could command its movement.

The sky seemed to cry, turning a darker shade. Perhaps the sky had lost a lover or perhaps, the one they loved was far from its reach. I could not tell as I never experienced one of those stories.

The books I had to read as a child were those who would teach me how to act and think. But those I read on the confines of my room when everyone was sleeping were different. Those told the story of a beautiful lady who wished to be rescued by a gentleman. I would try not to squeal under my blanket, as that was something, a lady of a high position should not do.

I glanced at the sky again as it screamed, lightly swaying the trees outside while his droplets of tears wetted everything under itself.

"M'lady," I corrected my form, trying to look as straight as possible. Turning around, I glimpsed directly into a pair of green eyes that seemed to lose their brightness as the seasons passed. Those eyes used to be the brightest ones in this palace, but now they were almost colourless, decorated by a couple of wrinkles. "Your mother is asking for your presence at her table."

That was unusual. My mother was a sophisticated distant woman who liked to spend time on her own. Hence, she tried to escape from her responsibilities as a Queen while having breakfast by herself. She would relax outside in the gardens. A small white table filled with her preferred meals, and even if she sought to convince herself, and lie to me about her drink being just a mere juice, everyone knew it wasn't.

"Tell me, Harold," While walking through the corridors of the palace, I noticed once again the monotony. The clicking of my heels appeared to be the only sound, except the melody of the rain falling against hard surfaces. "Did the Queen seem mad?"

Harold tried not to chuckle, knowing that if my parents or any of my siblings were near, he would end up getting struck by executing such a natural gesture. "I must say that the Queen did not ask for the cello man to accompany her this morning with some music."

I gasped, glancing at him to discern if he was teasing me. Harold had been in our family for so many years. I dare to say that he was in this palace before anyone else.

"She must be quite mad, then." I bit my lower lip, trying to think what of the things I have done could have gotten her mad, and how she had discovered them. "Perhaps she found the romance novels hidden in my room?" I muttered to myself.

"M'lady," Harold opened the door to the great hall. "She preferred to eat her breakfast in here as it is raining cats and dogs outside." He whispered, letting me walk in first. I silently nodded my head, wandering closer to my mother, who was sitting on the farthest place even though she was on her own. "My Queen. The young Lady has arrived. If my services are required, I will be waiting outside to escort the young Lady back to her room."

I shivered as soon as Harold left the room, wishing he could have stayed with me. But of course, he did not deserve the wrath of my mother. While walking closer to her, my clicking heels seemed to resemble the countdown of a bomb that would explode shortly.

"Take a seat, my darling," She demanded as soon as I was close to her. I swallowed, swiftly grabbing the skirts of my dress. I sat down on the white chair in front of her. She coughed. "Someone quite similar to the young Lady of the palace has been seen on the street market." A newspaper was placed on top of the table, facing me.

I swallowed one more time. "Must be someone who resembles me." I attempted to sound confident. "I am afraid that happened on Friday, and I take piano, courtesy and manner classes that day."

"Tell me, darling," She faked a smile. Her dark brown eyes, studying my position and expressions. "May I ask how you knew this happened on Friday as the article does not say something like that?"

"I-." Her stare became even more intimidating. "Guessed?" I squinted my eyes, perceiving that she would raise her voice to inhuman levels.

"Nor did you only skip your classes, you also lied and went outside on your own." Her tone was sharp. "Hideous things could have happened to you. Do you know what this could mean to your brother's throne?" Of course, this was about my dear brother. "The sister of the future King of Onism does not follow the rules of the palace. Then, what should they expect from their new King?"

"I did not do anything inappropriate, mother." I sighed, shifting my gaze to look at her directly. "I did not get in trouble, and as you can perceive, I am all right."

She rolled her eyes, which surprised me as she always claimed for that gesture not being refined. "And books," She pointed to one of the chairs, where I noticed all my favourite romance novels resting upon it. She had found them.

"May at least have some privacy in the confines of my bedroom?" I was mad, but raising my voice to her would get me in even more trouble. "Those," I referred to the pile of books that were my most precious property. "Those are mine."

"Not anymore," She got up, grabbing one of them and examining the title. "Romance novels? When will you understand that nothing like this happens in real life?"

I felt a little strength going through my body. "That book, in particular, describes the love story of the author! It is a romance that happened to her in real life. It is not fiction."

"But that woman was not a princess, was she?" I shook my head as she waited for my answer. "However, you are one. Even if you do not have anything to do with the future throne of Onism, your brother does, and you must behave like a princess." She walked closer to the fireplace. My eyes widened, and I gasped loudly. "You are a woman and a princess. The only thing you must worry about is making your future husband happy while following his rules, even if you do not love him." She opened the book, her skinny finger ripping some of the pages, and in the process, shattering my heart. "You will get married to someone you do not love, just to unite two countries." She let the book slip from her fingers. Falling to the fire, and burning as much as my eyes were burning due to the tears. "Stop filling your head with stories that will never happen to you. You are dismissed."

I got up from the chair, slightly glancing at the pile of books. I knew they would end up in the fireplace, slowly burning. I bowed my head. "I apologize, mother." She made a gesture with her hand, instructing me to leave the great hall.

My head was down as I walked to the door, wishing to exit the room and rant to Harold. "Wait," The voice of my mother interrupted my walk. "Get prepared as in two hours a man will come to paint a portrait of you. We will send the portraits to different future Kings of other countries that have shown interest in courting you."

"Yes, mother." I could not argue.

As I came out of the room, I noticed Harold's gaze fixed on me. I shook my head, letting him accompany me to my chambers. While walking through the long corridors, I glanced outside the windows. I reminded myself that I would never dance under the rain with someone while we laugh and kiss. I will never be caressed with love. I will only be touched with the purpose of bringing an heir to someone. An heir that would have to live the same dull life as me.

Going inside my bedroom, Harold bowed his head while he walked away. However, three ladies that worked in the palace entered my room, ready to assist me. I could not even take a bath on my own, nor could I dress by myself as the three of them did it for me.

"The painter will be here soon, ma'am," Rosetta informed, deciding to stay in the room as a lady should not be alone in a room with a man who is not her beloved husband. "He is a painter from town, said to have a gift."

"Is he quite known?" I asked to continue the conversation as I did not want to be rude. Nonetheless, the image of my books burning was the only thing in my mind.

"He is known in town for doing amazing portraits in exchange for food and a place to live." My curiosity peaked at the comment. "Royals are quite interested in getting their portraits done by him. Though, he had denied their offers." I looked at her with confusion. "He does not want to be related to any royalty member." I nodded my head, understanding why he did not want that.

There were two knocks on the door, indicating that the painter was here. I was quite surprised as my mother wanted the portrait to be painted in my private chambers. "Please, come inside."

When the door opened, a tall man came inside. He was probably around 5' 10". Wide shoulders that were covered by dark brown clothes. It seemed to be his best attire. Even though you could see the cheap fabric, and how he had tried to cover some holes and get rid of some stains. He had tried to gel his hair back. At first, I thought his hair was black until a streak of light fell on him, and I discerned it was a little lighter than that.

His light brown eyes fell on me, and studying them in-depth, I noticed that they resembled to be hazel. He bowed his head. "Uhm, it is a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I am here to-."

I offered him a smile. "Welcome to the palace," I bowed my head a little, which seemed to surprise him. "Please, do not call me Princess. It is fine to call me Lady." I gestured to one of the chairs in my room. "Please take a seat. It must have been a bumpy ride to the palace."

While sitting down, he nodded his head. There was a big black binder between his hands. Noticing my gaze on it, he quickly opened it, showing different canvas. "I can make different types of portraits. I thought I should bring some examples for the Pri-, Lady to choose the one she fancies the most." He stretched his arm, providing his drawings for me to look at them.

"May I ask for your name, sir?" My eyes focused on his drawings, understanding why everyone wanted to get their portrait done by the young man.

"My family name is O'Brien, while my name is Dylan, my Lady."

I nodded my head while still focused on his magnificent paintings. However, one in particular seemed to grab my full attention. It was the portrait of an elder, who appeared to be looking deep into me. He was skinny, and by his clothes, I could tell he was poor. He was sitting on a chair, and I almost gasped when I discerned that he had a missing leg. His expression was warm, a gorgeous smile decorating his face. Though, you could see that he had missing teeth.

"Did you find any equivalent style to what you desire?" His soft voice snapped me from my thoughts.

"May I ask?" I turned the portrait around, giving it back. His eyes examined the elder he had drawn. "Why is he smiling, but there are shadows around him?" I had noticed that the elder was smiling. However, black and grey adumbrations were around his figure. Some resembled horrible monsters. Especially a grey shadow that resembled a demon, resting upon his head.

He chuckled. "Those are the ones people in town ask the most." He glanced at me. "I draw their exterior as they want other people to see them. But then, around them, I draw what I can perceive or what I learnt about them." I furrowed my eyebrows. "Sadly, this man passed away a couple of weeks ago due to a cold." He licked his bottom lip. "He had offered me a home for a couple of days, and of course, he had proposed food in exchange for a portrait. Those days, I learnt many things while listening to his stories. I noticed that the man was attempting to look happy for his sick wife, whom he loved with his entire soul."

I fidgeted on my seat. "What happened, then?" I curiously asked, making him grin.

"He was not happy. He was afraid of losing the love of his life because death had knocked a couple of times on their door." He glanced at the painting. "Their children had married to people in higher positions, ignoring the elderly couple and not helping them with medicines. He was 87 years old, working in the town market. He was selling vegetables that he was cultivating by himself." He decided to continue as he saw that I was expectant of knowing more. "He never lost the smile for anyone, even if people did not treat him right. And of course, when arriving at his house, he would maintain the smile for his wife."

"Then," I tried to hide my teary eyes. "Those dark shadows..."

"Those are the monsters he tried to hide, but that I got to meet. The fear of losing his wife, the frightening feeling of wanting to end his own life, the fear of not having money to pay for his wife medicines, and so much more."

"And what happened to them?" Rosetta coughed, indicating me to fix my posture, and I quickly did, which made him furrow his eyebrows.

"As I said, one of his biggest fears was that they did not have enough money to pay for his wife's medicines." He peeped at the ground for mere seconds. "She died in her sleep. Her body could not hold the pain anymore, and she faded away."

"What about the old man?"

He nodded his head, his gaze shifting to the portrait. "He passed away in his sleep too. There was a smile in his face."

I blinked, affected by the grievous story of those who had to fight to survive. "I want one of those!" Both Rosetta and Dylan looked at me with surprised expressions decorating their faces. "I would like one of those portraits."

"My Lady, I'm sorry to intervene on matters that I should not. But I do not think the Queen will like such a portrait to be sent to those who are interested in courting you." She was right.

"She will not look at the portrait. Harold will be the one sending them." I affirmed, knowing that my mother would not dirty her hands for anything.

"It could get the young man in trouble, my Lady."

I glance at the man, who was looking at Rosetta until his eyes met mine. "Yes," I smiled, even though I was upset. "You are right. Then," I studied a portrait, a simple one. "I would like this one." Dylan nodded his head.

"It would take a couple of days to finish it. But I will be staying in the palace for the time being." He informed. "Is there any time of the day where you prefer to spend your time just standing in front of me?" He blushed a little. "Just for the portrait, of course."

"Tuesdays and Fridays I must spend receiving 'Lady classes'. The rest of the days and hours, I will be in here." I sighed, offering him another smile. "Did they give you directions for the room where you will stay?" Nodding his head, he showed me a piece of paper with some important directions to places of the palace that he could visit. "Your bedroom is at the end of this corridor. You are lucky as it is empty, except for me and Harold's room." Of course, he had met Harold already. "I must warn you not to leave your room after 11 pm as there are guards everywhere." I got up from my chair. "Rosetta," I pointed at her. "She will bring every meal to your room. Do not hesitate if you need to ask them something. There are a bathroom and a study in your chambers."

Before he could answer, the door of my chambers opened. A broad man stumbled in with decisive steps, and fury adorning his face. I gulped, stepping back before I could hold myself.

The man threw a newspaper at me, hitting my chest. Glancing at the floor, I witnessed the same newspaper my mother had been holding a couple of minutes ago. "Again?" His voice was sharp. "Did you escape again to buy those stupid books?" I shook my head. "Oh, yes, you did. Mother told me." His boots sounded like thunders as he walked closer. "I do not desire to hear any rumour of how my sister is not acting like a lady." My brother Evans glared at me. "If my future in the throne is affected by your stupid imagination and ambitions, I swear I will do whatever I must do for you to learn your lesson."

"I am s-."

"Do not you dare speak back to me!" He screamed. His gaze shifted to Dylan, who was standing too, eyes widened and what seemed anger decorating his face. "Are you the painter?" He nodded his head. "Try to make her attractive in the portrait. Hopefully, some rich soon-to-be King from another country will want to marry her." He peered at me. "Luckily, he will know when a woman needs a genuine beating to act like a lady or a wife." Those were his final words as he left the room. I finally could breathe.

"Uhm," My legs shook, and I attempted to hide it. "As I said before if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, my Lady." He got up from his chair, clutching his paintings. "Is it all right to start with the portrait tomorrow morning?" I nodded my head, wishing him goodnight as he left my bedroom.

"Rosetta," Her hands were behind her back, respectfully. "Tell Harold that I demanded not to be disturbed tonight. Not even for dinner." She nodded her head, bowing and leaving me on my own.

I sighed, wandering closer to a full-body mirror that decorated one of my walls. The moment I feared the most was getting closer. I would marry someone whom I do not love. I would marry someone whose eyes would not hold back from gawking at other women. And with those thoughts in mind, I went to sleep.

The following day, I decided to have breakfast and lunch in my chambers, not wanting to face my mother or my older brother. I had convinced Harold to stay outside my room, wanting to be on my own with Dylan. I thought that I would feel more comfortable if I didn't have someone constantly checking my posture or warning me of what should not say. Moreover, I also believed that a painter needed his privacy to reflect his art on a canvas.

I was stunned toward the bright day outside. Looking out of the window, I saw my little siblings running around the garden as some servants followed them. They were probably making their job even more complicated. Alexander and Victoria were quite the troublemakers. However, I was thrilled for them as they would not have to follow such strict indications, as to the ones I had to obey.

"Are those your siblings, my Lady?" Scared by the prompt presence, I turned around. Dylan was standing there, holding a big canvas and a briefcase, which I assumed held his painting materials. "I apologize if I alarmed you. Harold permitted me to come inside."

I nodded my head. "Yes, they are twins." I offered him a smile as he grabbed a chair, placing it in front of me. I discerned that my back was resting against the wall, and I quickly moved to stand straight. "Oh, please, no." He extended his arm. "Would it be okay for you to go back to that position? The light was caressing the right side of your face. There was a beautiful contrast." I swallowed, nodding my head while resting my back against the wall. I heard him chuckle. "Please, do not worry. It is okay for you to blink, breathe or swallow. It is also okay for you to do light movements."

"May I talk?"

"I am not great at holding conversations, but I will try my best, my Lady." He placed the blank canvas on the easel. His hands worked fast while taking out his painting material from the briefcase. "If it is not rude," He swallowed, probably questioning himself if it was okay to continue speaking. "I have noticed some books lying under the bed," I glance at my bed. Noticing that some books could be seen, which meant he was good at observing and that I did not hide my books correctly. "What books do you read?"

"Well," I gulped. "I read books about manners a lady should have in front of males and for the table. I study geography too as I must know the rest of countries for future alliances, and-."

"I apologize, my Lady." He wetted his brush. "Perhaps I formed the question wrongly. I wanted to know which books you enjoy."

My mouth opened as no one has ever asked me such a question. "You will think I am a typical young girl."

"Cannot think like that, my Lady." He mixed some colours. His painting brush, caressing the canvas delicately. "You are not a typical young girl. You are the Princess of Onism." Though those words shattered my heart, he was right. I would never be a 'normal' girl as my life was nothing like the one of an ordinary lady. "However," He continued. "When you paint someone, you get to comprehend them deeply. I believe I might discover that you are an ordinary human at heart. Something beautiful that would separate you from cold-hearted royalty." I was surprised by his words as people would not dare to talk of royalty like that.

I offered him a smile. "You might." He got distracted for a couple of seconds. His eyes navigated from the canvas to me, trying to retain my features and the folds of my clothes. "Romance." I was flustered. "I do truly enjoy romance."

"I presume something you will experience as soon as these portraits are sent."

I shook my head. "Something I presume I will never experience." His eyebrows furrowed once again. "Royalty men have the right to choose whom they will marry, even if they do not love them. Women will have to accept whomever their parents choose for her." My gaze shifted to the window for a couple of seconds. "It is my destiny."

He stopped painting for mere seconds, staring at me while slowly blinking. "Destiny can be changed." I shook my head. "It can," He nodded his head. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." He grinned. "That is something my father used to say."

"Used?"

"He passed away." He gritted his teeth. "He was a great painter too. Better than me." To my curious gaze, he decided to continue. "My mother left when I was a baby. She fell in love with a younger man, leaving my dad and me." He gulped. "Therefore, I would not dare to say that I have seen love as my mother left without looking back."

"H-Have you experience love, sir?"

"Please, call me Dylan, my Lady." There was a comfortable silence between us as he seemed to be concentrating on the portrait. "Not sure I did. Love is not what is shown in books. Nonetheless, I would like it to be like that."

"I cannot agree or disagree." I offered a sad smile, trying to hide my tears. "May we take a rest?"

He glanced at the clock hanging on my wall, nodding his head. "I apologize, time went by so fast." He cleaned and placed his paints inside his briefcase. "Good night, my Lady." I bowed back to him as he closed the door.

I waited for a couple of minutes, opening the door and seeing Rosetta waiting there. "Where is Harold?" I glance around, hoping to see the grey-haired man.

"He had to take care of some issues." She replied, looking nervous. "Do you need anything, my Lady?"

I quickly nodded my head. "I expect no dinner today, and I demand to be left alone." She furrowed her eyebrows, and before she could speak back, I stopped her. "I would like to take my nightly bath on my own, please." She nodded her head, walking away after wishing me a good night.

I closed the door of my chambers, quickly locking it as I rapidly walked into my bathroom, doing the same thing to the door. Walking closer to the bath, I turned on the faucet. I checked the temperature of the water until it was lukewarm.

I sighed as my hands went to my back, untying my dress. As the clothes fell to the ground in a surprisingly elegant manner, I appreciated not being forced to wear a corset. My legs shook as I placed one inside the water until I was sitting down.

I have read in books how a woman and a man would fall in love. A passion that they could not resist. An absolute passion that would make their hands wander through their bodies, wanting to feel each other as close as possible. I have read it so many times that I could lie to my head, making it think that I have experienced something like that.

I have read the way hands seem to burn on the skin, and how breathing becomes more arduous. And how after being pleasured, you need it over, and over again.

I sighed, feeling my nipples hardening, and I learnt they could do so even if the temperature was not cold. My left hand gripped the edge of the bathtub as the right hand rested on my chest. I decided it was time to move it, and closing my eyes, I left it to wander down while grazing my nipples.

When my fingers caressed my tummy, they seemed to become shy. Not used to the places they were descending. I have read books, but I have never experienced the feeling, which made me feel curious.

I tried to remember all the books. My fingers ended up placed on top of my bundle of nerves, and just the mere touch made me shiver from excitement. I slowly moved them in circles, adding more pressure, little by little. The temperature down there seemed to get warmer to the point where it burned. I could not avoid the need to move my fingers faster.

My left hand continued to grip the edge of the bathtub, but this time harder as my mouth opened and my vision became blurry. I felt this strange sensation. I felt like I was going to urinate inside the warm water, and even though I felt quite disgusted by the thought, I could not stop my fingers. They moved in circles, faster and adding much more pressure.

And it came. A rush of pleasure came over my body, and I could not hold back the moans escaping my mouth as I peeped down between my legs. My intimate parts turned red due to temperature and agitation. Then, I regarded the water near it, looking less transparent. So that was it. That is what a woman felt after pleasuring herself.

Curiosity invaded me even more, and I wanted to experience more further.

A couple of days had gone by, and the portrait was already looking amazingly good. I did not have any doubt of Dylan's talent as I have seen some of his works.

"Has anyone shown you around?" We had got a little closer as we spent many hours together for the portrait. He shook his head, taking off his dark green beret, and resting it on a nearer seat as he proceeded to mix some colours. "Would you like to see the gardens and the horses?"

His eyes widened. "Horses, my Lady?" I chuckled at his expression, nodding my head.

"Eight to be exact." His eyes widened even more. I remembered everything he had told me about himself, especially his love for horses. "We could take a rest. I feel dizzy from the smell of paint." He promptly nodded his head, halting and resting his brush on top of an antique plate stuffed with remains of paint.

Strolling through the gardens, I peered at him. He seemed content, having the chance to smell the fresh air mingled with the scent of the white roses that decorated our gardens. "White roses are your favourites." He had surprised me while retrieving such a simple, but a unique fact about me.

I nodded my head. "I prefer them over red roses. Those are overrated." He laughed, making my heart beat loudly. Dylan was an attractive man, and these past days I could not stop my body and my heart from reacting as soon as my gaze met his. "The stables are over there." I pointed to a couple of meters away from us. I extracted my arm as I felt something falling on it. "Oh, it seems like it   will start drizzling." We walked faster to the stables, almost running as the rain appeared to fall swiftly upon our clothes. "You will adore Arden. He is my hor-." I was interrupted as I saw two bodies stirring frantically against each other. Their moans, invading the stables. "Wh-." A hand covered my mouth while another dragged me off the stables. Dylan and I ran under the rain, getting as far as possible from the horses' house.

Both of us gawked at each other in astonishment. "Maybe my eyes deceived me. However, I believe that was Harold?" He seemed as shocked as me.

"They did not trick you." I gulped. "May I add that woman was my mother?"

His eyes widened even more. "T-The Queen?" I nodded my head. "I am so sorry, my Lady."

"I am not angered by the fact she was committing adultery! I know my father is no saint." I gritted my teeth. "I am mad by the fact she lives a miserable life. In which she had to marry a man she does not love, and she wants to impose the same duty on me!" My hands reached my hair, fingers clutching it. "It is not fair for her to desire the same dull and cruel life for me!" Dylan kept quiet, allowing me to rant. "Why must not I experience falling in love with someone? I crave to be touched by adoring hands, not dirty ones that will not care about my desires and will expect for an heir to be conceived." I sighed. "I ache to live that romance until the day I die." I let my posture fall, whining. "Why cannot I be kissed by someone truly interested in me? Why cannot I be touched by someone who desi-."

My speech was interrupted as Dylan's hands rested on my cheeks. His lips were tightly pressed against mine. I have read how a kiss was mostly controlled by the fight of tongues, aspiring to be the dominant one. But this was just a simplistic kiss.

"Oh my-." His eyes widened as my mouth fell open. "I apologize for my behaviour. I do not know what came over my mind for me to-." My hands were now covering his cheeks as I bought him closer. My lips were awkwardly pressed against his. He separated from me, blinking dumbfoundedly. "Close your eyes." I did. "Open your mouth a little, my Lady." His thumb drew my lower lip downwards. As he got closer, I felt his tongue stroking my bottom lip.

My hands were pushed against his chest as I gripped his white shirt between my fingers. One of his hands had to wander to my lower back as my legs shook. His tongue was now grinding against mine, and not knowing what to do, I mimicked his actions. My mouth instinctively melted against his.

"You will be the death of me, my Lady." He held me closer. His right hand, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Literally."

The following day, I walked to the great hall, confident enough not to knock on the door before stepping inside. My mother seemed shocked to be interrupted by my presence, as she gripped the teacup tighter.

Harold wandered behind me, fear written all over his features as he had never seen me disrespecting my mother in such a way.

I gestured for the cello man to leave the room, which he quickly did, not even daring to glance at my mother. "How dare you to come inside in such a-."

"I will not get married." I interrupted her, something I have never done before. I had been informed by my brother that there was a powerful candidate for me to marry. A 52-year-old man. "I will not marry someone I do not love, and even less a 52-year-old King just for our countries to be at peace."

"You have no say on it."

"Mother, do you want me to live the same life as you?" I ventured to ask. "Do you want me to marry a man who will sleep with every servant or woman that crosses his way while my future children will have to suffer the consequences too? A boy that ought to follow the rules of a King until he becomes a tyrant. And a girl who ought to have to act as demanded. Merely for the young male of the family to be even more respected?"

"As I sai-."

"Will I be like you then, mother?" My lower lip trembled. "Will I be cold-hearted towards my children, towards my daughter? Will I have to submit her to the same shameful life as me?" I did not let Harold intervene. "Will I have to close my eyes to true love and consume my infatuation with the person I truly love in some dirty stable?" Both of them were shocked by my words. "You are preparing and forcing me to the life you both have. I do not want to hide from the public eye and keep the person I cherish a secret."

"If this is about that paint-."

"He has nothing to do with this." I did not appreciate the way she spoke about Dylan. "I have openly expressed my discomfort about marrying someone I do not love since I recollect. I understand romance books do not happen in real life. But love does, and marrying someone for my brother's throne is not love." I sighed. "It is not fair for us, women, to be treated like this while men are approached like that!"

She surprisingly glanced at me for a couple of seconds before her sober expression appeared once again. "Every King marries the women they choose. We cannot decide. Every King has bastard children." I had to remind myself that Alexander and Victoria were the children of one of our servants. "Even your brother is going to have a bastard child." I furrowed my eyebrows as it was the first time hearing that news. "Rosetta." A disgusted expression decorated my face.

"Well," I breathed deeply.  "Destiny can be changed." I recited the same words Dylan had told me once. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." I glimpse at Harold. "I am tired of not being the sailor of my ship." I softened my voice. "Think about it, mother. I will do everything in my power to get out of here, even if it means dying in the process." For the first time in my life, my teary eyes were met with the glistening tears that invaded my mother's eyes. "I will be in my chambers. Please do not bother me at all."

When arriving to my bedroom, I did not expect to see Dylan waiting inside. I locked the door behind me as my eyes examined his entire body.

"Are you all right, my Lady?" He showed the briefcase he was squeezing between his fingers. "Rosetta told me to wait here for you. Since we could not continue with the portrait this morning, I assumed that perhaps, we could tonight."

"Let's escape together." My mouth seemed to move on its own. However, Dylan stared at me with complete confusion decorating his features.

"My Lady, I do not think I understand what you are trying to imply." He knew.

"I have told you before I do not plan on marrying someone whom I do not love." I walked to my bed, sitting down on the mattress. "It has been decided without letting me know that I will get married to the King of Hiraeth."

He glanced down at the floor for a couple of seconds to later shift his gaze on my direction. "Perhaps he is not only a noble because of his blood. Perhaps he is also noble at heart."

"It does not matter if he is noble at heart or not," I answered decisively. "He is a 52 year-old-man! And as I said before, someone I do not love!"

He sighed. "My Lady," Resting his briefcase on the floor, he pulled a chair to sit in front of me. Though, he maintained the distance. "If I am not wrong, you have never met this man before. You might end up fallin-."

"Do not dare to say that!" I got up from the bed, eyes flickering. "Please, do not be like the rest of those who live in this palace! The first time you came here, you told me I could change my fate." He swallowed, nodding his head. "That is what I am trying to do." My hands were squeezing the skirts of my dress. "Please."

"I cannot take you anywhere, my Lady. You are the Princess of Onism. Everyone in town knows the beauty you behold." He coughed while deeply looking into my eyes. "I do not know anyone that will keep the secret of you being in to-."

"You are not understanding me, Dylan." I tried to ignore the way his body shivered every time my tongue and lips worked together to create his name. "I know I told you that I have never experienced love." I bit my lower lip, taking a breath. "I only know what I have read in books." He nodded his head, waiting for me to continue. "But I understand my feelings. Even before the day we kissed under the rain, I was already attracted to you."

"Attraction is something that can be felt many-."

I stepped closer, making him glance up. "It was attraction, I admit." Both of my hands navigated towards my back. "But my heart beats madly, whenever you are near me, whenever I glance at you or when I think about you." He got up from his chair, slightly stepping back. "I am utterly sure that I am in love with a man who worries about me and my feelings. Someone who has been encouraging me and that has seen my fears."

"My Lady," He gulped. "I truly feel honoured to be inside your mind and heart. I will not lie as I do also feel the same towards you." When I moved closer, he prevented me. "But you are a Princess, and I am just a simple man who paints in exchange for food and a roof." He blinked fastly. "I cannot give you the life you might expect." He offered me a side-smile. "And of course, our relationship would not be approved by the King and Queen." His voice turned softer. "Neither by the soon-to-be King of Onism."

"I do not care!"

"But I do, my Lady." He breathed deeply. "I do not want you to live a life where people will insult and degrade you plainly because you married a penniless man, or because you did not obey the established rules of the members of the royalty."

"I already have that life, where I am discredited just because I am a woman." This time when I stepped closer, he did not back away. "I already have to follow settled rules for the sake of my brother." My hands were still behind my back, and I finally decided to let them untie. He did not notice yet. "But now I have found someone who makes me feel something I have never experienced before." I sighed. "What did you do to me, Dylan?" He opened his mouth. "My mind and heart are full of you, and they constantly demand my body to be filled by you too."

His neck and cheeks turned red as he seemed to have difficulties while swallowing his spit. His eyes shifted around the room, trying to decide what to do. "My Lady," He sighed in desperation. His hands travelling through his body while he clenched it and gritted his teeth. "I truly have been trying to hold back." His hands now grazed his face. "I have been trying to hide how in love I am with you as I am just someone who does not deserve you."

"You are the man who deserves me the most." The shoulders of my dress fell, displaying my bare skin. His eyes widened even more. "And you do not have to hold back anymore." Finally, the cloth fell onto the ground. "I have read so many things, but I have never thought of experiencing them." I felt embarrassed by revealing such a matter. "I could not hold my hands from exploring my body for the first time as your image was in my mind."

"You did?" I nodded my head. His eyes had never left mine, not even to peer at my underwear. A rush of confidence seemed to hasten through him as he walked to the door, securing it. "Show me." My expression must have confused him. "Show me how you did it."

It was my turn to gulp as I got on my mattress, lying down on my back. I was slightly sitting thanks to the pillow, which granted me to discern Dylan as he shuffled closer to the end of the bed.

My bralette was already off, but his eyes still fixed on mine. "You can look." As soon as those words came out of my mouth, his eyes glanced down at my chest. It seemed like he had complications breathing.

My hands gently travelled down, gripping the sides of my underwear and slowly bringing them down my legs. The chilly air was a contrast of temperature to my entire body. I shifted my legs to completely discard my panties, which ended up someplace on the ground.

I permitted my fingers to touch the bundle of nerves, suffering a chill through my body that reminded me of that time in the bathtub, or the following times where I could not restrain my needs. Rubbing on circles, my other hand went to my mouth, biting on it not to make any sound.

"That is how you did it?" I nodded my head. "Until you exploded?" Again, I acknowledged with my head. "My Lady. Has any man touch you in such a way?" Shaking my head, he offered me a smile. "May I be the first one to do so?" I nodded my head, which he did not seem to like. "Please, use your words."

"I do," I did not hesitate. "I do want to be touched by you, Dylan."

"I might die right now, my Lady." He wandered closer. His hands slowly discarded his dark blue beret. Then, his fingers rapidly unbuttoned his white shirt, which had some dark little stains due to his paintings. His body was fit, enough to make a woman drool. I must say, he seemed broader than what I have imagined. "Have you ever introduced your fingers inside?"

I shook my head.

I hear the sound of his shoes falling to the ground as he kneeled on the end of the bed. His right hand moved my left hand from my clit, leading it to his hair. "Hold on tight, my Lady." Not sure of his next actions, I shivered as his breath hit my heated core. His tongue peeked out from his mouth, gently grazing my centre.

I gripped his soft hair between my fingers, making his gaze shift to look deep into my eyes. His tongue lapped, adding pressure on my clit. I whined as his tender tongue left my core to slid down and up a couple of times, extending my wetness all over my intimate part.

I was utterly surprised when the tip of his tongue ended up inside me, and he seemed to noticed as he grounded it against my walls. His right hand slowly left my thigh, where his grip had been tough. "I will be gentle." His whispers were almost unnoticeable as my moans were louder, feeling one of his warm fingers getting coated by my juices as he introduced it, inside my vagina. "Does it feel good?" Without waiting for an answer, he started thrusting it. His lapping tongue and his thrusting finger, producing a drooling combination.

"Oh my god," The candles that were lit, and resting on the table next to my bed seemed to flatter by a scene hotter than their flames. "Faster, please." I must not lie. Introducing his second finger on me had provided a slight pain. But seconds later, it had been replaced by an unbelievable pleasure. "Please do not make me beg."

"I would like to see you beg, my Lady." His mouth had left my clit, chin dripping with my fluids. "I would love to see you beg under the light of the candles while no one else knows that you are getting the love and passion you deserve." His fingers made a wet sound when they left my insides. I could not help but whine as he got farther from my body but became expectant when his fingers played with his belt.

As soon as he slid his pants down his legs, I could not help but moan again. There was a bulge between his legs, and I could not help but get flustered thinking about having him inside me. However, I was quite worried about his size as he already seemed thick through his pants.

I remembered a scene from a book where this girl had her first experience with her childhood friend. They had become lovers and decided to consume their love on top of the counter of the protagonist's kitchen. Her description of the scene was incredibly detailed. And even though my body had become more heated while reading it, I could not help but be worried when she described the experience as feeling as if she was getting 'ripped', which was quite vulgar but exciting in an unusual way.

I had been distracted by my thoughts, as to when I realized my rounds, Dylan's member was finally free. It stood tall and thick against his stomach. He could not help but contain his grin as I gasped.

"I never-."

"I know, my Lady." His hands grabbed my ankles, calmly making their way to my thighs, which he squeezed while separating my legs even more. "I am utterly happy to be the first and only man to make love to you." Uh? "I will take care of you for the rest of my life." His eyes looked deep into mine, asking for permission for his next movements and actions. Of course, I nodded.

He grabbed his shaft, his hand circling it while he thrust into his clenched fist a couple of times. He left if free, spitting on his hand to later grab his member again, lubricating it.

"I am a little scared," I confessed, shifting my gaze to his face. "You are so thick and long. H-How is that supposed to fit inside-."

"We can stop if you want, my Lady." One of his thumbs caressed one of my thighs. "There is no rush and enough time to do this whenever you feel ready."

"I do want to do it! I am just a little scared." I gulped, glancing down at his member. "Could you maybe go slowly?"

He nodded his head, getting closer and placing a peck on my lips. "Whatever you wish for, my Lady." Asking for permission again, he waited until it was granted, for the tip of his member to graze the lips of my vagina. "Here I go." He started adding pressure. Until the entire tip was inside, making me gasp. "Sh, breathe." His right hand went to my tummy, caressing it. "We can go slower."

I nodded my head as I took deep breaths, ignoring the tears that were falling from the corner of my eyes. A couple of minutes went by when I decided that the pain had become a pleasure. I shifted my hips toward Dylan. I was right as there was only pleasure. "Dylan, please," I whined. "Please move."

His entire member was inside me, and Dylan's thrusts had become steady and swift. His mouth was travelling from my jaw to my lips, sometimes stopping to ask for my well-being.

One of his hands left my hips, going between our bodies as he started circling my clit, adding more pleasure. "Oh my gosh," I raised my voice, not being able to hold back the incredible feeling. "Lord, please go faster." I circled my legs around his hips, bringing him closer if it was possible. His member, hitting places that it could not reach before. Wails of satisfaction came out of my mouth. "Please, fuck me harder."

He seemed quite shocked by my choice of words as his eyes widened. But he had seemed to enjoy them too, as his thrusts became even faster and sloppier. "I will not last long." He groaned, not afraid of expressing his pleasure while his lips grazed my ear. "I have been dreaming of this for so long." His moans made my entire body shiver. His right hand, circling my clit even faster. "Please, my Lady. Tell me you are close. Please."

"I am!" I drowned my screams while biting his shoulder. "I am so close." His left hand travelled to my left nipple, toying with it. The different stimulations, getting me dizzy while my vision became blurry. And I came undone under Dylan's body.

Reading was nothing like experiencing it.

My breath was laborious. Dylan stayed inside, thrusting a couple of times more until he quickly came out, thrusting in his clenched fist. He was going to finish soon. His eyes, questioning where to explode. My hands went to my breasts, holding them together.

Dylan's eyes widened as he understood what I was implying. He moved, his hips getting closer as his dick ended up being embraced by my breasts. I held them in place while he thrust, moaning at the contact. His tip, hitting my chin and lower lip. He did not last much longer, exploding and cumming all over my chin and lower lip.

He gasped, our bodies full of sweat. "I made a mess. I am so sorry, my L-." My tongue peeked out of my mouth, licking some of the cum that was resting on my lower lip. "I-. Oh, gosh." His lips settled up against mine. His tongue, parting my lips so his tongue could slowly dance against mine. "Did it feel good?"

"It felt amazing." I was still trying to breathe at a regular pace.

He kissed my forehead, leaving the bed and wandering to the bathroom. His member was still lightly hard. But he quickly gave me the view of his butt.

When he came back, he was gripping a towel. Sitting on the side of the bed, he slowly cleaned his release from my chin and chest. Then, folding it, he cleaned between my legs. He was cautious, trying not to hurt me as my entire body was sensitive. Next, he discarded the towel.

His body fell on the bed next to mine. We both gazed into each other's eyes with foolish smiles decorating our faces. "I do not want to leave. But night curfew will be soon."

"I do not care." I wrapped my sore body against him, breathing in. "Stay here. Nobody will know. You can leave early in the morning." I did not notice I was pouting until his lips pecked mine. Then, the rest of the night was a cuddling blur as exhaustion took over our bodies.

Another couple of days had gone by, and it was nearly impossible to keep our hands for ourselves. Dylan had been sleeping in my chambers, which was difficult to hide. I had been ignoring my mother and Harold as much as possible. And thankfully, my brother was away in a political meeting with my father. We had also continued the portrait sessions, which sometimes ended with our bodies full of paint as we could not hold back for holding each other.

I must confess that there had been sexual escapes around the palace, which was a surprise, as we did not get caught yet. Momentarily, Dylan's boxers were around his ankles like his pants as I was grabbing the skirts of my dress.

My face and chest were pressed against the wall of a tiny room while he thrust in me from behind. "Ah, we will get caught." He whispered but did not stop his movements. "You are going to be the death of me, my Lady."

We had been walking around the castle until I could not hold back myself anymore. I took Dylan's hand, going inside a tiny room that, it is used, for cleaning materials. Therefore, we were fucking as fast as we could, aiming for a release. "Please, go deeper!"

"I believe I am as immersed as I can, my Lady." The sound of our skin slapping against each other turned both of us on even more.

We both were close to our release. But we were rudely interrupted by the door of the room opening, showing Rosetta and Harold, who stared at us with surprise written all over their faces.

Dylan quickly came out of me, pulling his boxers and pants up while I let the skirts of my dress fall.

"Harold," I started. "Please, do not say anything." My eyes begged. "Could you please give us five minutes and wait in my chambers?" Without saying anything, they closed the door. "Oh my god."

"It is okay, my Lady." Fear was visible in his face and voice.

I was baffled as when entering my chambers, my mother was there, next to Harold. He ignored my gaze, staring deep into Dylan's eyes.

"Mother-."

"I told you!" She did not hesitate to raise her voice. "I know you did not choose to be a princess, but this is what we have to deal with." I could not protest. "I am not trying to make you miserable. I was trying to avoid a situation like this where this young man," Surprisingly, she did not glare at the young man next to me, who was squeezing my hand. "And you will be in danger!" She sighed. "Imagine if it was your father or brother finding you two! They arrived early this morning!" I did not know about their arrival. "He would have killed him and make you watch." I gasped, getting teary. "I did not want you guys to end as I did."

"What?" I asked while being overwhelmed by confusion.

"Your mother," Harold decided to spoke as my mother had to seat on the end of my bed, trying to calm herself. "She fell in love with a servant of this palace, way before you were born." Dylan and I were pretty interested in the story. "You do not choose who you love, my Lady." He shifted his gaze between the two of us. "However, keeping such a secret was complicated. And eventually, someone found out." His hand rested on my mother's back. "Unfortunately, the one that discovered them passionately kissing in the gardens was your father." I gulped while swaying closer to Dylan, searching for his warmth. "He executed him right there, in front of your mother."

"Those white roses used to be red." My mother's voice shook while she referred to those planted in our garden. "It was so repulsive to see that his blood mattered nothing when for me mattered the world. He was my world." She offered us a sad smile. "No one mourned for his loss except me. His body was taken away by other servants in uncaring behaviour. His blood could not be seen, because it had splattered on the flowers that had the same tone." She wept, trying to breathe and calm herself to continue. "It was as if he had never existed. I thought I had gone crazy, and I had imagined the love and the man that I desired to have."

"Mother," My eyes were teary. "I am so sorry that happened to you, and now, I understand you tried to protect me." I glimpsed at Harold for a couple of seconds. "But this is just throwing me into a deeper hole. I will end up in a similar situation to yours, and my children will be doomed, to the same cruel fate." I was desperate. "Mother, destiny can be changed." Dylan was looking at me, a tiny smile on his face while he rubbed one of my freezing hands.

"I have seen you grow up," Harold intervened. "I have learnt every one of your moves, understanding when you wanted to cry or laugh." He grinned, crossing his arms. "Deep inside, I knew one day you would want to fight from the established and dull life you are supposed to live."

"He spoke to me." My mother continued. "Harold opened my eyes, and he taught me to perceive that you were falling in love with this young man." She bowed at Dylan, and he returned the same gesture. "And I perceived that this young man was falling in love with you too."

"Your father and brother lied of their whereabouts." Harold stepped closer. "They bought with them a visitor."

My mother shifted closer to us. "It is the King of Hiraeth." She gulped. "The 52 year-old-man that they expect to marry you with."

"No," I shook my head. "Please, mother." I could not stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. "Please, mother. Do not let them do that. Please. Please." Before I could fall to my knees, my mother held her hand up, offering me a brown bag.

"It is yours now." My mother replied, sliding the bag into my hands. "This will help both of you." Money, there was a lot of gold inside the bag. Dylan was looking inside the container with wide eyes as I did. "If I had stolen money from your father, he would have noticed. Therefore, I bargained my jewellery." Her hand unconsciously went to her neck, and I noticed her diamond necklace missing.

"Here," Harold extended his arm, offering us a piece of paper. Dylan clutched it. It was a map. "That black circle is your shared property. It is a near kingdom, not too far from here but enough for you two to be safe and not be recognized, as the Princess of Onism."

"What?" My mouth was agape.

"It is Elysian. It is a small town full of life, and it is secure." Harold explained with a smile. "It is your new home. The money will help you guys for a couple of years, but of course, my Lady, you will have to get used to a life without servants and luxuries. However, I do not have any doubt that you will be able to adapt to such a life."

"Then," I glanced at my mother. "You are helping me escape?"

"I am helping both of you leave." She cried. "I am helping you get out of the life you did not choose and the one you do not desire." I turned around to stare at Dylan, who had tears running down his cheeks while smiling at me. He shyly pecked my forehead. He wiped his tears while bowing again, staying in that position for a couple of seconds. "No, no, please stand up." He did. "We are family now. Please take care of my little girl."

"I will, your highness." His words sounded so confident that it made my heart beat violently.

"W-What about you two?" I glanced between them. "Are you coming with us?" I was expectant to hear their answer.

My mother shook her head. "We did change our destiny." She referred to the present situation. "Do not worry about us."

"But-."

"My Lady," Harold took me into his arms, embracing me. "Escaping is more complex for us. But do not worry, because we will end up getting away from here. One day, we will." He smiled at me. "For now, Arden is prepared to take you both far from Onism tonight."

I nodded my head. "Take care of my mother, and thank you for being like a father to me." After squeezing him, I quickly hugged my mother. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Before they left my room, my mum turned around. "Dylan is your name, right?" He nodded his head. "I viewed the portrait. It looks marvellous. Take it with you." He was perplexed. "The portrait was for the man that will marry her. That man is you, so that portrait belongs to you."

"I bought gifts!" I overheard two squeals, rolling my eyes with a foolish smile, adorning my features. Two tiny figures ran to the owner of the voice. "Perhaps you both only love me when I bring presents."

"Perhaps they do." I walked closer to the man, whose beautiful smile was aimed, at me. My right hand gripped his arm, a signal for him to lower his head so I could peck his lips. "Welcome home. I made your favourite dish." My lips had trapped his bottom one between mines for a couple of seconds, making him whine lowly.

He seemed to be dumbfounded while pecking my lips a couple of times until our children interrupted the moment with their excitement to know what their father had brought them. "Well," He chuckled. "I bought my little princess this!" He took a stuffed animal from his coffee-coloured bag. Charlotte squealed and giggled while running around the room with her new plaything. "And I bought my not-so-little prince," He remembered how our little boy did not want to be named as a child anymore. "This." He showed him a new brand book, which cover was of a dark blue with golden touches.

Thomas could not help but grin. "This book was printed a couple of days ago! Thank you so much, father!" He tightly hugged his dad. "Perhaps I could bring it with me to the Addington's home?" He could not help but jump around due to his excitement. "I believe Newt will love it too!"

Dylan nodded his head. "Take care fo your sister, please."

The Addington's were a young family of five that lived next door. We were constantly inviting each other over to our homes, wanting the kids to play together. We, the adults, were also mates. A couple of times, we babysit each other's kids to have privacy with our respective partners.

As soon as the kids were out of the door, Dylan's briefcase had fallen to the ground. He had been away for an entire week due to a commission of a portrait where he would earn a lot of money.

His hands were caressing my entire body as we both tried to make our way to our shared chamber, in hopes of continuing the passion there. "I have missed you so much, my Princess."

My fingers moved quickly, trying to untie the dress I was wearing. My hands were sweaty, and Dylan must have noticed as he ended up unlacing my attire. "I am not a Princess anymore."

He swallowed, eyes focused on my breasts as I was not wearing a bralette. Both of his warm hands slid up, cupping my bosom. His fingers grazed my nipples while his entire hands squeezed the rest. "You are right." His gaze shifted to my lips. "You are the queen of my heart now, my Lady." That name had stayed since the very beginning, and every time it came rolling gently out of his lips, my undergarments got drenched.

"I will explode right here, Dylan." I moaned as my hands were busy sliding down his pants while he worked on his jacket and shirt. "I have missed having you around. And being around you."

He groaned, slipping one of his hands behind my back as he squeezed my buttocks. I whined when he pinched it. "You seem to be so desperate for me."

"That smirk," I grinned while kissing his bottom lip. "Perhaps you are as desperate as me." I glanced down as I spotted his hard bulge against my front.

"I am not as needy as you are, my Lady." The last word was said sensually, making my legs shake.

"I am sure you are as needy as me, Sir." It was that word for him. I could feel the temperature of his body rising.

"What does my queen require from such a humble servant?" He acted while sprawling my body down on the bed. His hands, gripping the sides of my panties, bringing the down and discarding them. "Maybe she needs help down here?" One of his fingers ran up and down, collecting my fluids. He did not hesitate to bring that finger into his mouth, savouring it. "My Lady, perhaps I should confess that you taste like Heaven, itself."

His face leaned closer to my core, but I immediately stopped him. He glimpsed at me, confused. "I want to be the one giving you as much pleasure as possible." Sitting down on the bed, my hands pushed against his chest until he was the one lying on his back.

I questioned myself when he had taken his boxers off as his member sprang free, hitting his tummy. Pre-cum was decorating his pink tip while sometimes, you could see it palpitating as the veins were tightening.

My right hand started working immediately, grabbing his shaft while going up and down. I softly squeezed it as his arm rested on top of his forehead, blissfully. My thumb stayed on the tip, playing with the tiny drops of pre-cum.

"Gosh, are you an angel?" His words wavered as my left hand cupped his balls, lightly tugging on them. "My Lady, I need your mouth, please." I attended his demands, my left hand still playing with his balls.

However, my mouth was also sucking on the lowest part of his member. Licking my way up, my mouth embraced the tip of his dick. His hands went through my hair, settling on grasping it forcefully and guiding me down until his entire thick member was inside my mouth.

His moans got louder as his hips could not hold back, shifting upwards, choking me as his tip scraped the back of my throat. "My Lady." Glancing upwards, I could see the sweat falling down his forehead. His entire body was sweating, especially the part of his chest with a spot of hair.

I sucked harder, preventing my teeth from grazing his delicate member. "May I come inside your mouth, my Lady?" Humming against his dick, he seemed to understand my permission. A couple of hard thrusts that chocked me and he was cumming down my throat, spilling a big load. His breath was laborious as his hands caressed my hair back. "Please, ride me."

He whined when his member lost the warmth of my mouth as I shifted my body to position myself on top of him. My left hand was resting against his chest. My other hand, grabbing his still firm member. "May I?" He nodded his head. As soon as he was filling me up, both of us became a moaning mess. "Ah, I felt so empty without your dick inside me."

His hands instantly clutched my hips as he encouraged me to bounce on top him. "You look so ravishing while you bounce on my dick." I moaned, loving his dirty talk. "I could do this every day. I love how your breasts bounce while you are getting stretched by my dick." He gulped. "They have got even bigger after you had our beautiful children." His right hand slapped my ass. "Listen," I ceased my moans as I heard the slapping sounds of our skins. "You are so wet for me, my Lady. Your pussy demands to hold my dick."

Both of my hands were now resting against his chest. "I am going to explode." The hand that was on my ass moved to the front, flicking my clitoris. "You fill me up so good, Sir!"

"I will fill you even more soon." He groaned, sitting down so he could move me closer to my body. Our mouths, touching in an open kiss. "I am going to release my entire load inside you. I am going to impregnate you, my Lady." I moaned. "You want that, right?" His thrusts became sloppier and harder. "You want to get filled and carry another gorgeous baby." I nodded my head. "You are as irresistible while pregnant. The way you cannot keep your hands to yourself. The way your bosom gets even bigger."

"Please, fill me."

No more words needed to be said as our teeth clattered against each other, riding our highs together. My vision got blurry, and my moans louder as I felt all of his huge load filling me up. "Oh, fuck me, my Lady. You take my load so good." The rest was full of kisses and warm under the sheets. His member had softened inside me.

On one of the walls of our chambers, there was a portrait of my younger self. She resembled grave and upset. Her composture seemed forced, but around her body, there were flames. Sparks that represented the passion she badly wanted to share. The adventures she wanted to live. There was a yellow light, which seemed, to be connected to her heart.

Dylan had described a young lady who aspired to live a passionate life. A young woman whose heart and mind were full of hope.

There was a lovely detail on the portrait. On the wall behind the young girl, there was a mirror, where you could perceive a young Dylan, examining the woman before him with a peculiar shining light on his eyes. The identical light young Y/N had while looking at Dylan O'Brien, the humble painter who shared the 'fictional' love she always wanted to experience.The love they both found and fancied.

Yes, destiny could be changed.

.

.

Those who asked to be tagged. Thank you for showing interest: 

@og-baby-ob14​ - @sweetest-serpent01​ - @tovvaa​ - @jazminebrightxx​ - @sonnydoesrandomshit​ - @badgyal-barbie​ - @trustfundparker​ - @blueraindrops​ 

#dylan o'brien x you #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brien x oc #au!painter #au!princess #dylan!painter #dylan o'brien fics #dylan o'brien fanfiction #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o'brien fluff #dylan o'brien smut #dylan x you #dylan x reader #dylan x y/n #dylan x oc #dylan smut #dylan fluff #dob imagines #dob imagine #dob fanfic #dylan fanfic #dylan fic #dylan fanfiction #dob fanfiction #dob x you #dob x reader #dob x y/n #dob x oc #dob fic

[lxngbottom]

Mistakes That Last Forever. | N.L.

in which neville stumbles across... an “old friend”.

warnings: mentions of cheating, angst, pregnancy, slight trauma mentions (lmk if i missed any!)

i got inspired for this by an outsider imagine that i read like a really longgggg time ago... so enjoy this ig (AND YES THERE WILL BE A PART 2 TO THIS)

(PART 2)

—

neville’s whole life had been filled with regrets. they seeped into his skin, torturing his clouded mind on day to day basis. the trauma from the second war had left a mark on him, and even though he was now in the infamous herbology professor at hogwarts, he still didn’t feel as if he was living the life he had always wanted to. he didn’t feel successful, he didn’t feel... good about himself. and the main source of that?

you.

his biggest regret was losing you. hurting you. leaving you in such a needing time.

it had all started after the war. you two had been inseparable since 2nd year, as you were the one who had helped him down from the chandelier when he was tragically hung up by those pesky pixies. and ever since then, he was enamored with you. he was consumed by the mere thought of you. and, your feelings didn’t differ too much.

so, you two became official in your 4th year. you two were each other’s firsts for practically everything that could be a first. and, you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. you were so in love with him, it tore you from the inside out.

but unfortunately, the war arrived. and, it took a huge toll on your relationship. it affected each bit of what you guys had built together. after the war had ended, you guys tried so hard to make it work. but, neville... it seemed as if he just... gave up.

you would never forget the day you came home from work to your shared apartment, and heard strange noises coming from your bedroom. you went up, deep down, already knowing what the noises were. and of course, when you opened the door, your worst nightmare had became a reality. and even worse?

you were pregnant.

neville knew this too, but, he felt as if he had spent so long being “stuck” in a relationship with you, he never got the chance to meet new people. and because of that, for the sake of your child, you left. because, he had left you first, and he had done something unforgivable. something that would leave you scarred, and something that would take hold of you for years.

but, now things were different for you. you were more than content with where your life was at right now. you had an amazing job as the journalist for the daily prophet, and you were damn good at it too. it was a collective agreement that you were definitely a step up from rita skeeter.

neville couldn’t disagree more, though. not that he didn’t think you were good at your job, he always thought that you were an amazing writer. but, he had to force himself to cancel his personal subscription to the daily prophet, as the simple mention of your name on the front page, or sometimes, maybe even your picture, broke his heart to see. some from guilt, but mostly, from just missing you.

just five years later, here you were. walking through a muggle hardware store, looking at all of the houseplants that surrounded the small garden.

“mummy, look!”

you whipped your head around, and smiled when you saw your small son, chubby just like neville used to be when he was young. you had always tried to disregard the fact that he looked exactly like his father, but it was difficult to. you loved your son, with everything you had in your body, but, he was a constant reminder of all the pain that had been caused.

“very nice, nev!” you giggled, watching as your son played with a single pink flower bouquet. he grinned at you, and suddenly plucked the fresh flower off of it’s stem. you gasped, and wanted your hand at him, “neville longbottom! we don’t do that! do you want to get in trouble?!”

his face contorted into a guilty one as he made those ridiculously adorable puppy dog eyes at you, “i’m sorry, mum... i-i-i didn’t know. i was trying to pick it for you...”

you couldn’t help but to feel a little guilty as he sadly dropped the broken off flower on the floor, watching as it blew away from the huge fan that hung above the both of you.

“it’s okay, dear. but, try not to pick them from the actual stems, okay? just... look on the floor. you’ll see a bunch of free flowers everywhere.” you teased, sending him a small smile. he looked up at you, and those sad puppy dog eyes quickly sparkled with excitement as he ran away, looking around the garden for those small, long forgotten flowers.

you chuckled quietly to yourself as you watched your son, seeing how his eyes glowed from all of the plants.

yeah. he was definitely neville’s son.

you turned your body back around, attempting to continue your shopping. but, your body then collided with another, causing you to come to a complete halt.

“oh, merlin! i’m so—“ you were just about to spurt out multiple apologies, until, you looked at the figure.

there he was. tall, muscular, and a intent gaze fixated on his face as he stared at you.

“n—neville?”

he was so shocked. he couldn’t even let out a single mutter. you were right there. right in front of him. after not seeing you for so long, but thinking about you always, you were finally right here.

“y/n...” he breathed out finally, trying to not show how incredibly nervous he was.

this was the first time you two had seen each other since the day you packed all of your things, and left him standing alone at the door step that once belonged to the both of you. he could never seem to part with the apartment, the whole environment still leaving trails of you. so, of course, he still resided there during his off times.

“um—wow... shit—i’m sorry. you know... for bumping into you...” he laughed nervously, stepping away from you. you gave him a nervous chuckle as well, trying to hide the redness that was now blending within your skin.

“oh—it’s alright. i should’ve—you know... been watching where i was going...”

neville opened his mouth to respond, as he wanted to ask you so many things. but, he was interrupted by a small child running up to you, tears streaming down his face as he clutched onto your leg.

“mum...” he sniffled out, and you looked down with a concerned look on your face, “t-t-the lady yelled at me...i-i-i accidentally b-broke one of the f-f-flowers...”

neville knew those eyes. he knew that familiar stutter. he knew those tears. it was like practically looking into a mirror.

that was his son.

you looked over at neville nervously, seeing realization flashing in his green orbs. but, you bent down to neville jr, who was an absolute mess. he never took kindly to people getting onto him, especially if they were yelling.

“oh... it’s alright, nev. we have a whole garden at home that we can grow flowers in...” you reassured him, wiping his small tears. he nestled into your touch, “why don’t you go and pick out some seeds? any kind you like... i’ll get them for you.”

there was a shy smile on his face as you said that, and he looked over at the strange man that stood baffled beside you.

“okay...” he sniffled, wiping his nose, “but... who’s that?” he asked, pointing to neville.

you had never told your son about his father, and you had hoped that he never would. but, you knew the day would come. you just didn’t think that day would be today.

“an old friend, darling. now, do as i say and go find some flowers, alright?”

your son nodded, reluctantly leaving you with the tall man that he had no idea the identity of. you stood up fully awkwardly, and looked over at neville who’s face was now angry.

he watched as the boy ran off, “he doesn’t know who i am?” he asked through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing at you.

you looked back at him, “nev—“

“no... how could you not tell him? that’s my son, y/n. you—you told me you were putting the baby in adoption... how could you lie to me? and him? why would you do that?”

you knew you owed the man an explanation, but all at the same time, he had brought this upon himself. and yeah, maybe it was fucked up that you had lied to him, but, you genuinely did believe at the time you were getting rid of the baby.

“neville... not here. please...”

“no, y/n. you owe me a goddamn explanation. i mean... this is my fucking child we’re talking about. look at him! he looks just like me!”

you looked over at the chubby boy, watching him closely as he skimmed through seeds, staring at the images on the front.

“don’t you think i know that, neville?” you whispered, “listen... we can talk about this. but, not here. and, not while he’s around...”

“no! i want to talk to him! i deserve it—goddamn it, y/n! how could you fucking do this to me?!”

“and how could you cheat on me?! after everything we went through together! you fucking left me in the dust!”

he could see the pain in your eyes. there was obviously still a lot of hurt, so much rage pent up from the whole scenario. of course you had never fully gotten over it. it was still something you thought about on a daily basis, as you had believed at one point that you would be married to neville by now.

“y/n...” neville started, stepping closer to you, “i—i never meant to hurt you...”

you stared into his eyes for a moment, trying to find some sort of other answer other than that stupid apology you had heard so many times before.

“it doesn’t matter, longbottom. i have to go. we can talk about this whole thing another time. goodbye.”

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