#Agent Whiskey x ofc

[sheerfreesia007]

Fluffmas #23

Title: Fluffmas #23

Fandom: Kingsman

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x OFC!

Author: @sheerfreesia007​

Prompt: Have an indoor picnic in front of the fire

Words: 224

Warnings: 

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo, @athalien

Gif Credit: @a-gent-galahad

The fire crackled pleasantly in the fireplace as you sat on the soft comfy down comforter that Jack had laid out on the floor. Sipping at the champagne in your glass you smiled as the bubbly drink slid across your taste buds before swallowing. Looking over you beamed at Jack who also sat on the comforter and sipped at his own glass of champagne.

It had been a surprise to you when you walked downstairs from wrapping all the Christmas gifts to find Jack setting up your indoor picnic in front of the fire. He had made delicious extravagant deli meat sandwiches for the two of you and had paired it with chocolate dipped strawberries and champagne. When you had questioned what the occasion was he had simply told you it was just something nice for the two of you to enjoy.

“This is nice. We should do this more often.” You said softly as you smiled at Jack who turned to you and smiled warmly.

“Yeah this is nice isn’t it?” He asked softly as he scooted closer to you on the comforter. You smiled while nodding your head and leaned into his side before resting your head on his shoulder.

“Really nice.” You responded softly as the two of you sat there just enjoying the sound of the crackling fire before you.

[ladamedusoif]

Masterlist

Header - and slogan - by @agentjackdaniels

Hi there! I’m Rose (she/her/they), I’m 40 and I write fics - described with complete accuracy as “ethical porn for nerdy types” - for Pedro Pascal characters.

This is an 18+ blog so, for safety’s sake, minors should not access the content below.

I love hearing from readers! All comments, reblogs, likes, DMs, and asks are very much appreciated.

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Thank you so much for reading!

Visiting (Professor!Ben College AU - in progress)

Pairing: Professor!Ben x OFC Lydia (reader POV/2nd POV)

Summary: Seeking a change of scenery after her life falls apart, European art historian Lydia crosses the Atlantic and arrives in the small New England college town of Barrow. She’s planning to spend a year there on leave of absence from her permanent job at home, expanding her intellectual horizons as a visiting professor at Barrow College, a small liberal arts institution. Her growing friendship with Ben Morales, professor of Hispanic Literature, forces Lydia to confront the fallout from her past - and raises unexpected questions about the future.

Rating: Explicit (18+)

See the main Series Masterlist for specific warnings and content notes.

Tempered in the Fire (Blacksmith!Din Djarin AU short series - in progress)

Pairing: Blacksmith!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: Ireland, almost a decade after the rebellion of 1798. You are an unusual woman: married, but alone; a widow, with no certainty her husband is dead. When your local blacksmith is badly injured in an accident and unable to work, you have no choice but to travel to the next forge, run by a man of few words whose uncertain origins and dark complexion make him stand out among the locals. You are immediately intrigued by this mysterious, taciturn figure - and the striking little boy he’s taken as his apprentice.

Rating: Mature (series); Explicit (18+, later chapters)

See the Series Masterlist for specific warnings and content notes.

Gentleman Thief - The Heritage Crimes Universe (The Thief (Casillero del Diablo) - in progress)

Pairing: The Thief (Casillero del Diablo) x F!Museum Professional Reader

Summary: He stole a priceless ruby after your first date. You reunited after the museum's winter ball. And now? Something keeps pulling you into the orbit of the world's greatest (ethical) gentleman thief.

Rating: Explicit (18+)

See the Series Masterlist for specific warnings and notes.

A Merry Fic-Mas - a Pedro Boys Holiday Fic Calendar

31 days. 31 stories (hopefully). 12 Pedro characters.

Inspired by this set of December/holiday themed prompts.

Rating: Teen/Mature/Explicit (see individual chapters for warnings and content notes).

20/20 - no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Pairing: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x Optometrist F!Reader

Summary: After months of pestering from Sarah, Joel finally concedes that he might to get his eyesight checked and makes an appointment at your optometrist practice. He really doesn’t want glasses, though.

Rating: 18+; not explicit as such but implied; see the warnings on the original story

Laurels - General Acacius x f!Reader

Pairing(s): Acacius x F!Sex Worker Reader; Acacius x Lucilla

Summary: You met him as a young soldier, brought to the brothel you worked at to celebrate a victory. Now, almost two decades later, his return to Rome in triumph sparks memories of your time together - and the secrets you still hold.

Rating: 18+ MDNI; Explicit; See warnings on the original story.

Café Crème - Javier Peña x f!reader

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Javier likes mornings at your place for more than just coffee.

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI; see more notes on the original post)

A Cup of Kindness, Yet - Javier Peña x f!Reader

Part of the brilliant @pickled-pena writing challenge - check out the blog for the whole masterlist.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: Another Auld Lang Syne in Laredo, twenty years after your first with Javi.

Rating: Teen (see notes and warnings on the original)

My Kiss, Only For You - The Thief x Museum Guide f!reader

Pairing: The Thief (Casillero del Diablo) x Museum Guide F!Reader

Summary: You’ve noticed a regular attendee on the guided tours you offer as part of your job at the museum - and one day, he decides to ask you for more information on his favourite exhibit.

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI; see more notes on the original)

For the Night - Special Agent Ortega x F!Sex Worker Reader

Pairing: Agent Ortega (The Sixth Gun) x F!Sex Worker Reader

Summary: You might not be one of the “sweet young things” in the whorehouse any more, but a seemingly reluctant special agent helps remind you of your worth.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ (see specific warnings on the post).

Silvered - Detective Tim Rockford x F!Reader

Pairing: Tim Rockford x f!reader

Word count: ~ 800 words

Rating: Explicit (18+; MDNI; see specific warnings on the story)

Summary: Tim Rockford’s talented silver tongue has a reputation, in more ways than one.

Gentleman Cowboy - Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels/Agent Whiskey x F!Reader

Word count: 3500 words

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI; see specific warnings on the story

Summary: A solo getaway, a whiskey for one, and a very charming cowboy in the big city.

Able - Joel Miller x Disabled F!Reader

Pairing: Joel Miller x Disabled F!Reader

Summary: "I just don't think she'll be able for patrol". But then it's just you, Joel, and your trusty walking stick in the middle of nowhere...

Rating: Mature; 18+ MDNI; reader is disabled; see more specific warnings on the story.

Word Count: ~3.7k

Room Service - Dave York x F! Reader

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Summary: You’re at one of those generic conference hotels to meet a man you know only as Dave.

Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI; more specific warnings on the story

Word Count: ~2.3k

Coup de Foudre - Lucien Flores x F!Reader

Pairing: Lucien Flores x F!Reader

Summary: Caught in a sudden storm on a break in Paris, you and Lucien race back to the hotel room.

Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI; specific warnings on the story

Word Count: ~1.1k

Part of the April Showers Challenge organised by @undercoverpena

[artemiseamoon]

Draft release: Dial up the Jack, Dim the Whiskey

Agent Cognac (Bria Asare) x Agent Jack Whiskey

✨Draft release! ✨

💕Summary: Working at the Statesmen medical department, Bria started her career with aspirations of being an agent. Years after starting, it seems like that dream is never going to come true. Days after her 38th birthday, one of the senior agents gets gravely injured and she’s soon tasked with his care and recovery.

But there’s one issue, she can’t stand Agent Whiskey. As the weeks pass, and he starts to heal, the two form a bond and grow closer. As Jack’s health improves, he realizes the extent of his growing feelings for Bria as she comes to terms with her feelings for him too. 💕

Words:3,983

One shot for Arte’s Year of Whump for @yearofcreation2023 |I’m months behind , so making this the May one 😬| | Year of Whump + fluff /comfort masterlist

💫Below is a preview | read in full here on A03💫

An: still on a mini writing break, just occasionally releasing some drafts. My folder is way too full and taking up space on my phone. 💕this one is more fluff /comfort leaning.

Warnings: light on whump, recovery after injury, misogyny mentioned.

Bria always had two things she imagined for herself, being able to help people and work in the medical science field and being a world-traveling spy.

Growing up she was always glued to the screen for any shows about spies, secret agents, and detectives. It was something she wanted to do before she realized her draw to the medical field in high school.

The dream of being an agent was her first, and still her biggest one. And though she was in the right place for it, she still wasn’t an agent.

She was head of her department and got to work with tech and science, both things she liked, but she still wasn’t an agent. But this was a problem for more than one person at the office, namely Ginger who was also qualified but shot down whenever her name came up.

For all the perks and benefits of working there, the place was still deeply misogynistic in several ways, both from within the system and due to some of the men involved. And though there were women agents, the percentage was far less than that of the men.

Some offices were more progressive, like the New York office. Sometimes Bria wondered if a transfer there would be worth it, and maybe then she could finally have her wish come true. There was also the fact that aside from her job and friends being here, there wasn’t much keeping Bria in Kentucky. Maybe, New York was her future.

After a few days off for her birthday, Bria returned to the office. Upon arrival, she was surprised to find a new patient in her center. Agents get hurt, but that wasn’t the surprising part, what shocked her was who it was.

Some people had a shit ton of luck, and somehow barely got a scratch on them, Agent Whiskey was one of them and he was cocky about it too. The man was damn near indispensable, it was impressive but also fed his massive ego.

This place had many big heads and egos walking around, and Jack was one of them. While many women in the office, and men, fell for his charms and ate out of his palm, Bria wasn't one of them. No matter how physically attractive the man was, and really easy on the eyes, his attitude and ego were a major turn-off for her.

Thankfully she had limited contact with him, but the few times they did circle each other just reaffirmed what she felt about him. Nice to look at but stay away. And though she turned him down a few times, he’d still hit on her now and then. But she never took it too personally, he hit on everyone he liked the look of, it was hard to tell if his interests were genuine sometimes, or if he was just doing it to do it.

Read in full on A03

More Whiskey on my Masterlist

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[whiskeynwriting]

The Babymoon

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

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Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Brief mention of reader’s hair (Jack just brushing it aside), established relationship/marriage, pregnant reader, dirty talk, aggressively passionate Jack (I’m W E T), degradation/teasing, breeding kink, daddy kink (ofc), spit kink, rough sex, choking, biting, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, and some fluffies

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A/N: I apologize for the late post but ya girl has the stomach flu y’all 

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Daddycember ‘23 Masterlist

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Every small grunt forces a ping of guilt through your husband’s gut, both hands working tirelessly to relieve your pain. Truly, he didn’t know the walk would be so rigorous for you, but he should’ve known, should’ve researched more before coming out. But he does his best to make the situation better; he carried all of the bags, both yours and his, set them down in their appropriate rooms and then rushed back to tend to you. Jack led you over to the couch, letting you lay out while he removed your socks and shoes.

“I’m sorry, sugar.” He mumbled, removing his hat while kneeling down. “Didn’t realize it was such a long hike.”

“It’s okay.” Came your sigh of reassurance, head tilted back. “It was worth it.”

And that made him incredibly happy, forcing that handsome smile right across his face. What you said was true, too, coming here was definitely worth it. With Jack’s busy work schedule, and you constantly prepping for the baby, the two of you needed a break, especially before your newborn gets here. And that’s exactly what this trip was intended for. Some time away to relax, reset, and enjoy each other’s presence. 

Jack’s lips find their way to your ankles and calves, fingers massaging your sore feet. He didn’t mind doing this for you, did it almost every night, in fact. It became routine for him quite quickly; he could never not care for you. But thankfully, most of the more aggressive symptoms have subsided alongside the beginning of your third trimester. No more intense nausea or bloating, no more awful heartburn. The worst of your troubles have been general muscle aches and pelvic pain, but you’d take that over vomit any day.

“I can feel him kicking.” A sudden laugh comes from your throat, both hands falling to your belly. 

Jack grins, reaching up with one of his own hands. “He’s a wild one, in there.” 

“You… you think it’ll really change?” All Jack does is look up with confused concern. “Our lives, the way we are, when he comes.” 

His casual shrug serves as minimal reassurance. Glancing back down at your feet, Jack clears his throat. “Sure it will, babycakes. But not in a bad way.”

“How do you know it won’t be in a bad way?”

“Because I won't let it be that way.” Chocolate eyes meet yours once again, full of warmth and kindness. “Don’t worry so much, honey. We’re on vacation.” And with that, he’s standing, leaning over to kiss your forehead. “Let me go make you a drink.” 

And in this brief lull, you let out a relaxed breath, feeling at ease in Jack’s care. He’d always been such an attentive man, an attentive partner, able to identify and tend to your wants and needs before you even knew what they were. Being observant was in his nature, and branched into every area of his life, even now. 

“Here you go, sugar.” Handing you the drink with a smile on his face, Jack turns toward the fireplace, taking it upon himself to light it. 

It’s easy to admire him, not only for his incredibly handsome features, but for his wonderfully doting personality. He takes care of you, in every sense of the word. You’ve never felt safe before, like you do with him. 

Although the walk up to the cabin was laborious, he’s still glad he chose it. Perfectly secluded and quiet, up in the Kentucky mountains. The entire estate is surrounded by woodland brush and gentle creatures, deers and rabbits and birds. The surrounding peace is everything the two of you have been craving, a place to relax and reconnect. Your travels happened later in the evening, though, the night sky already beginning to grow. And with the stars peeking out from behind the clouds, and Jack lighting the fireplace, the entire situation seemed all too familiar. 

“You know…” Looking over at Jack, he stands, briefly clapping the dust from his hands. “This kind of reminds me of our honeymoon.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, flashing you that dazzling grin. And then he shrugs, walking over to you. “That was kinda the point.” 

Romantic, warm, and beautiful, qualities that mirror both your relationship and post-wedding vacation. It still makes you grin, still makes butterflies erupt inside your belly that Jack is willing to do all of this for you. 

“Wanna spoil you, angel.” Jack then hums, brushing aside some hair so he can get to your neck. And then he’s placing a single, sweet kiss, smiling. “How’re you feelin’, hm? Sore? Anything I can do?” 

The mention of your honeymoon has his insides stirring, his mischievous nature growing. Alongside these playful emotions comes the presence of Jack’s hand on your thigh, warm even through the material of your pants. He rubs you firmly, giving the plush fat of your legs a slow squeeze. 

Spoiling you is genuinely Jack’s pleasure, and he does it because he loves you; and this trait grew tenfold when you decided to carry his baby. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t use these situations for his own satisfaction, too. Watching your body grow makes his entire body run hot, your soft and squishy thighs, your round belly and perfectly plump backside. And Jesus Christ, your tits, he never thought they could get any more enticing before you got pregnant. But now? So swollen with your nipples all sensitive and red… he can’t keep himself away. He just can’t, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to on your private getaway. 

The slightest, most timid smirk forms on your face, eyes choosing to look away. “Well… you already took care of my feet.” Something in you says that Jack is looking for an excuse, for any simple reason to touch your body, massage it and just feel every inch of it that he can.

“Yeah?” He responds, chestnut orbs traveling down your figure. “What about your legs?”

“They’re fine, not too sore.” Shrugging, you do your best to suppress your laugh. Sometimes, teasing Jack was fun. 

Raising a brow, he then asks, “Your hips? Stomach?” Now, he’s running his palm over your swollen belly, chest inhaling a deep breath. Nothing about pregnancy turned him on before, not until he saw you carrying his child. Who knew Jack Daniels had a breeding kink? 

“Nope.” Finally turning to face him, you smile innocently. “I’m okay, baby.” 

The look on your face is kind and calm, but the twinkle in your eye tells him you’re only playing. And his own expression is growing stern, contemplating his next move. 

“You don’t seem to get it, do you?” 

“Get what?”

And in one quick motion, Jack’s hand rises to grab harshly at your chest, squeezing one breast in hand. It makes you gasp, makes your body jump with surprise. 

“Daddy wants to touch you, sugar.” In an instant, he’s closer, breathing heavier against you. “Daddy wants to touch your sweet body and watch you fall apart in his arms.” 

With an exasperated sigh, he’s then falling to your neck, sucking on it with wet lips. His sudden advance has your jaw dropping, lips curling up at the ends. Keeping his hand on your chest, his fingers press into your skin, massaging your tit before collecting his fingers so he can toy with your nipple.

“Jack,” Comes your simple sigh, head falling back.

“I know,” He says, mouthing at your neck. “It feels so good for you, honey.”

His mouth moves to your jawline, licking it, nipping at it, while brushing his thumb across the point of your breast. Even the slightest bit of friction made them hard, whether it be a small breeze or the soft fabric of your shirt. They’d never been more sensitive, and Jack had never been more interested. 

“You know I wanna touch you,” Jack mumbles over your skin, hand dropping to your legs. “Fuckin’ tease.” 

Cupping you between your thighs pulls a full moan from your throat, head lifting just in time to see him lean into your chest. Jack buries his face into you, right between your smooth mounds while his tongue dips into your cleavage. 

“Oh, god, I want this, sugar.” Though, you can barely hear him with his face stuffed between your tits. Lifting both hands, you encourage him, holding him there by the back of his head. 

“Daddy,” Two fingers rub firm circles over your covered center, your husband groaning quietly when you grab onto his hair. 

“Let me do this, baby doll.” 

Nodding rapidly, you gulp. “Okay, daddy. Okay…” 

Moving away from you with a swift inhale, Jack lifts himself from your body. Already, his pupils are blown, his pants tented firmly against your thigh. And for a brief second, you laugh. The two of you haven’t even been here for more than thirty minutes and he’s already trying to get into your pants. 

“Gorgeous fuckin’ thing.” The praise makes you flush and he knows it, making his way down so he can kneel between your legs. “Get these off, sugar.” And even though he says it like a command, he does it for you, undoing your jeans and yanking them down your legs. The help you offer is brief, a simple lift of your hips. But then you’re falling back down and watching him spread your legs. 

“Yeah… this is what I wanna see.” With his gaze focused on your center, Jack groans, tongue poking out to lick his lower lip. “Already leakin’ through your panties…”

In an experimental act, he reaches out, finger swiping over the very center of the delicate cloth. It’s damp, the middle darkened from your wetness. And that makes him grin, makes him fucking throb in his pants. 

“You know it, don’t you?” He asks before leaning forward and stuffing his face between your thighs. Again, it takes you by surprise, forcing your legs wider while that curved nose of his nuzzles its way into your crotch. And then, he’s inhaling, hot mouth opening to taste you through your panties.

“D-Daddy,” This time, it comes out as a whine, one hand fisting his hair while the other grabs hold of the couch. 

“Ugh,” Lifting himself just enough for you to hear, he says, “Know just how fuckin’ good you taste.” Reaching forward, Jack hooks two fingers around your panties before pulling them aside. And then his tongue is laying out, flattening it to give your cunt one firm, wet swipe. 

“Fuck,” Puffing out a harsh breath, your eyes are fluttering shut, feeling the firm shove of his tongue. 

“Get so goddamn wet like this, babycakes.” He notes, mouthing at your clit. Lifting a hand, he grabs onto your hip, urging you to sit back and lift your pelvis up a bit. It gives him better access, after all. “Been a goddamn fountain since I got you pregnant.”

And that makes you laugh, hands lowering to brush kindly through his hair. Both of those broad palms then move beneath your thighs, holding them with a secure grip while sucking on your core. It’s already on his face, on his lips and chin and cheeks. And lord, does he love that. He’d willingly drown in this if he could. Getting his face wet with your slick made him the happiest man on earth, made him harder than he ever thought he could be. 

“Pretty little whore, aren’t you?” Jack chuckles, leaning back to spit on your folds. “Sittin’ here with my baby inside you, and your body’s still beggin’ for more.” The devil truly came out when he was like this, nothing but offensive praise and aggressive passion.

Running his tongue up and down through your lips, he groans, wrapping his mouth around your sensitive bud. And when he gives the tiniest succession of sucks, pulsing his lips around that tiny pearl, you feel like you’re going to come undone. Every part of you feels light and airy, like you could float away at any second. It’s like you’re buzzing with it, with euphoria and happiness. And he just keeps going, just keeps his head between your legs and his mouth on your throbbing cunt. 

Jack knows when to hold you down, he’s done this too many times to not be aware. The grip he gives your hips is bruising, digging in with ferocity while shoving you onto his mouth. Your hips grind against him, head forcing itself back while you cry out for him. It’s a sweet whine, a gasping moan, fingers tightening on those dark brown strands while he fucks his tongue into you over and over again. He did that every time he ate you out, sucked on your clit until he made you unravel and then dove down to collect what he’d worked so hard for.

“I’m so fucking in love with you.” He’s out of breath, reaching for your jaw before smashing his mouth to your own. Instantly, the combination of his spit and your slick is running down your chin, legs shaking gently while Jack consumes you from above. 

“I’m, I - baby.”

“Get up,” Jack grunts, hauling you up by your arms. “Gonna get you in bed so I can see the mess you made for me.” 

Keeping his grip on your bicep, he pulls you alongside him, hurrying down the hall. The master bedroom isn’t far, which your shaky legs are thankful for. His demanding words and actions make everything seem so quick, like you don’t have a choice in anything that’s going on. And truthfully, you want it that way. You want Jack to make the decisions, you want to lie down and do whatever he wants you to. 

Shoving you forward, he watches you stumble onto the bed, a bright grin on your beautiful face. Taking a beat, he pauses, standing above you before beginning to remove his shirt. And while keeping that deadly gaze, you move backward on the covers, shimmying out of your panties. 

Eyes dipping down, he nods toward your chest. “Take off your bra.” 

While unbuttoning his shirt, he watches you complete his task, tossing the last bit of your clothing onto the floor beside your bed. And just in time for him to shove his pants down, too. 

“Mine,” He suddenly says, crawling over you on the bed. “Mine - all mine.”

Again, he’s obsessing over your breasts, shoving his face between them while his hands work the rest. His body rubs against you, cock wet and leaking on your thigh. It makes your insides burn bright, seeing his overt attraction for you. He gets so passionate when he’s like this, so vulnerable yet assertive, confident. 

“Let me get my fingers inside you.” That breathy voice says, licking two of them before dragging them down your chest. 

While his tongue lays out, toying with your nipples, Jack’s fingers dip inside your entrance, already loose from your orgasm. So sweet and welcoming, velvety and warm. And all you can do is writhe beneath the weight of his body, turning your head to kiss his cheek and neck. The curl of his fingers practically makes you shriek, feeling your body react on its own accord. 

“So sensitive like this, baby.” It’s lazy, the way he licks your nipples, teeth dragging over the red and puffy peaks. And then he’s sucking on them, sucking on the swollen swell of your tits and groaning like he’d just cum in his goddamn pants.

“Tell me you want more.”

“I want it,” Nodding, you gasp, swallowing dryly. “I want more.”

Your hips cant upwards in time with his fingers’ movement, hands grasping for his bicep and back. But it’s not enough, not for him.

“Tell daddy you need him, c’mon.”

“Daddy, please.”

“Nuh-uh,” Breathily, he chuckles. “Use your big girl words, sweet pea.” 

“I need you, I need you, daddy. Please, please.” In an attempt to convince him, you lower your hand, finding him laying heavy over your thigh. The firm grip you give his cock makes everything slow down for him, his eyes shutting alongside a small hiss. Even his fingers fall slack, chest dropping against your own. 

“Touch me, baby.” It’s a quiet command, one said while he nods. “Touch daddy.”

Knowing that he’s happy with this, you grin, running your fist up and down his length. Glancing down between your bodies, Jack watches, eyeing the way your thumb swipes over his tip.

“Oh, fuck.” Shaking his head, Jack sighs, hips rocking into your grip. “Always need you like this, sugar, always…” 

You can’t deny that it’s been hard these past few weeks, hell, these past few months. Being intimate hasn’t been a priority for the two of you, unfortunately; stress just took control of your lives. Jack’s career was becoming incredibly demanding, leaving you to care for the house and your unborn baby all on your own. Setting up the nursery, going to doctor’s appointments by yourself, feeling the baby kick without your husband there to experience it, somedays, it was just heartbreaking for you. But you’re here now, you’re together, without a single distraction in sight. You’re his, and he’s mine. That fact is always in your mind.

Taking himself from your hand, he settles between your legs with a relieved breath. Jack’s love for you consumes him, his entire body and mind. He just wants to wrap himself around you, looping his arms around your back while burying his face in your hair. 

“Jack,” It’s said quietly while you hold him, stroking his hair. 

Lifting one hand, it rests on your left breast, Jack’s hips moving to push into you slowly. The way you open up for him is an absolute dream, a breathless laugh spilling from his mouth as it happens. And when he pinches your nipple, you whine, forcing a jump from his cock as it rests inside. 

“You just need a lil’ extra somethin’, don’t you, sweetheart?” There’s a teasing tone to his voice, but you’re not sure what he means. 

Pressing his face into the curve of your neck, Jack smiles brightly, lips dragging over the skin as he begins to move. So he doesn’t hurt you, the hand on your chest moves to the bed, placing all of his weight onto it. 

“Puttin’ my dick inside you just ain’t enough anymore. Was it ever?”

“Daddy, what…” The steady pump of his cock between your legs is making you feel delirious, flooding your body with a sense of euphoria you’ve never felt before your pregnancy. “What do you mean?” 

“Remember what we used to do, sugar? You remember?” Heat creeps onto your cheeks as he says it, legs lifting to his waist as the arousal in your body heightens. “You remember what you did in my office?” 

“B-Baby,” He knows this gets to you, knows it hits right to your core.

“I remember,” Jack continues, licking at your neck. “Bendin’ you over my desk, fuckin’ you dumb over my paperwork. Or how ‘bout the times you sucked me off while I talked to Champ, huh? What about that?” 

Every firm shove forces the tip of his cock against your most sensitive spot, the thin tissue that just begs for his presence. And that, alongside those devilish words, is making you drip around him.

“Crawling on your knees for me in my jet,” He’s throbbing inside you, words becoming airy as he reconnects with your body. “Shit,” Hissing harshly, his eyes pinch shut. “Fuck me, honey. You remember rubbing yourself over me? Over my new goddamn boots because you were so horny?”

“Fuck, yes.” Exposing your neck even more, you toss your head back, feeling Jack’s teeth make their own special imprint. 

The memory is all too erotic, something you honestly can’t believe you did. Jack made you stupid; he was so goddamn attractive, so goddamn charming, that you’d do anything just to please him. Even if it meant humiliating yourself, you’d do it just to get off. 

“Hm…” You sigh out, placing your chin on his knee and closing your eyes in contentment.

“How’s that feel, honey?” He asks, reaching down to tilt your chin up to him.

Your eyes open, lids already heavy with adoration and lust. Jack’s smiling down at you, his expression soft and caring.

“So good,” Comes your contented hum, more than happy to finally have contact with your lover.

“Yeah?” He whispers, “Then keep goin’. Make ‘em all wet and shiny for me, honey.”  

You whimper quietly at his words, moaning lightly as you lean forward to begin moving your hips. The movement of your soft skin, your folds brushing over the smoothness of the material, only furthers the waves of heat that begin flowing through your core.  

“Go on,” He urges, “entertain me, sweet pea.”

“God, do I miss that. Havin’ my own little slut on tap.”

“Daddy, I’m, I’m still here.” It sounds pathetic, like you’re begging, trying your damnedest to prove to him that that part of you hasn’t left. 

“Oh, I know you are.” Lifting himself from your body, Jack glares down at you, one hand lifting to grab your jaw. “I know you’re there, babycakes. Comes out every time I’m inside you, every time I give you a demand. Why don’t you show me?”

At this, your brows raise innocently, unable to speak from the grip he has on your jaw and chin. And amidst your silence, he says, “Show me how well you still listen to me… and open that mouth.”

As soon as his grip allows you to, your lips are parting. That strong hand drops to your throat then, Jack’s face coming down to drip a cool trail of spit onto your tongue. But he’s not done then, not until spitting forcefully onto your mouth. And the moan you exude is nothing short of whorish and erotic, the liquid sliding over your tongue. 

“Yeah…” The word is said with a cocky sense of power, that gorgeous half-smirk crawling onto his face. “You just can’t get off to that vanilla shit anymore, can you, babycakes? You need it rough, don’t you?”

That hand is still on your throat, and only tightens as he speaks. With every thrust, his pelvis slaps against you, forcing your legs wider, and forcing himself deeper.

“Need daddy to manhandle you? Choke you? Hold you down and bruise you?”

Burying himself inside your cunt, you can’t help but feel so perfectly full, the veins along his shaft rubbing delightfully against your inner skin. It feels so natural, this connection, so natural and sensual. But nothing about it is sweet; everything about this encounter screams salacious and indecent. 

“Yes,” Comes your little plea, nodding. “Yes.”

Each shove rocks your body against the mattress, the strength of Jack’s body surrounding your entire presence. He feels so warm and strong, soft when he needs to be and mean when he wants to be. 

“I love this,” Jack admits, “Love nothing more than this; connecting with you. Look at you, just look at you.”

Lowering himself with a flurry of rapid breaths, he presses his mouth to your cheek, expressing his adoration for you. “You’re so good for me, my pretty baby. So pretty like this, sugar. Fuckin’ gorgeous when you take me.”

“I need you, can’t, can’t live without you.”

“Never, sugar.” Gasping against the side of your head, Jack’s chest stutters, a deep groan slipping from his lips. “Always here for you, with you.” 

When he gets like this, you can’t help but wrap your legs around him, tightening every muscle and pulling him in. And he lets you, falling into your embrace with a deep moan of gratification. It consumes him, the pleasure of it all, of releasing inside your wonderfully welcoming body. Jolting slightly above your beautiful and giving form, Jack moans helplessly, feeling his release wash over your walls. Every spurt is accompanied with a sharp shudder, arms moving to encircle you fully. Humid grunts pass over your ear, his mouth hanging open as he experiences the sensation of it. 

“My sweet girl.” Your husband finally says, his body tingling with every ounce of happiness that he has. His hold is full of pure, unwavering love, full of absolute worship and adoration. And beneath him, you relax, wanting nothing more than to rest with him in this peace. 

Kissing your head, Jack whispers sweetly, “Perfect little thing.” 

It’s in this moment that you feel every single worry melt away, every anxious thought about Statesman and the baby. Those negative notions serve absolutely no purpose to you, not when Jack is here, not when he cares for you so consistently and so openly. With Jack, you’re safe, you’ve never known otherwise. And nothing could ever take him away from you.

[penvisions]

hello hello and thank you so much for being here in my little corner of the internet! i'm a long time hobby writer that's getting back into the swing of things as hyper fixations take place. currently that includes a wide range of fandoms and most of my works are still in progress (ppcu). i hope that doesn't deter you from checking them out!

i hope you they bring something to you if you decide to check them out, little joys are so important these days

any and all likes, reblogs, comments, asks, shoutouts are so so greatly appreciated ♡ please feel free to reach out if you feel so inclined ♡ i’d be happy to chat with y’all

there is absolutely no pressure, but here is my kofi account if anyone if feeling generous ♡

wanted to pop into this post and highlight that a few of my reader characters range from descriptions of hair and skin color / texture. most of them have been adapted from OFC characters in my mind but i want everyone to feel like they aren't being blindsided when reading or beginning to start my fics. most details can be discarded. i hope this is all okay and happy reading! love y'all so much and just want everyone to have a good time and enjoy reading ♡

-> ao3 link || drabble masterlist

*The Last of Us:

Joel Miller x Reader Masterlist

*Triple Frontier

Frankie Morales x Reader Masterlist

*Kingsman: Golden Circle

Jack Daniels x Reader || Agent Whiskey x Reader Masterlist

*Star Wars: The Mandalorian:

Title: of beskar and kyber Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader) Status: work in progress Summary: You’ve been on the run for as long as you can remember, from a lot of different people and a lot of different things. Everyone seems to see you as either a prize to show off or a captive to exploit. You had been successful in keeping a low profile and evading brief captures. That is until your mother contracted the Guild and the Mandalorian came to possess your tracking fob. Will he be the reason your freedom is no longer something attainable or will he be the one to help you achieve it in ways you never anticipated? 

ao3 link || series masterlist

*Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

Title: from grief to grace Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Reader Summary: Determined to work through your heartbreak, you end up spacing out until your boss comes to check on you.

fic link

*Eddington

Title: appointing authority Pairing: Ted Garcia x F! Reader Summary: Mr. Garcia needs a distraction from all the hard work he's been doing and you're more than happy to provide it.

fic link

[pedropascalsx]

3000 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION POST!

- The fanfiction edition.

Hi friends! I don’t know how it happened but I hit 3000 followers recently and I feel unbelievably lucky! I joined this site just over a year ago and I have met many wonderful people and gained multiple friendships from doing so.

And I wanted to celebrate YOU guys and show some appreciation for the fanfics that have taken up space in my heart.

I will be posting a few different celebration posts, one for fanfics, one for people I follow and one more for the GIFs and fics that i’ve created and that i’m proud of.

The list is below in no particular order! They just happen to be posted in a way that my brain let me remember them. I limited the list to ONE fic per writer as I wanted to showcase as many people as I could; so please check out their entire master lists!

1. Weeknights by @frannyzooey - Frankie Morales x F! Reader.

2. Notes on Tutoring by @honestly-shite - Dave York x F! Reader.

3. Lay It On Me by @lavendertales - Javier Peña x F! DEA Reader.

4. The Crush by @the-ginger-hedge-witch Javier Peña x OFC Isabel!

5. Consent by @fuckyeahdindjarin - Dieter Bravo x F! Reader.

6. Celestial Navigation by @write-and-buried - Dieter Bravo x F! Reader.

7. Run to You by @foli-vora - Marcus Pike x F! Reader.

8. Silent Affection by @kteague - Frankie Morales x F! Reader.

9. Psychomanteum by @whatsnewalycat - Dieter Bravo x OFC Louella!

10. Another Way by @theewokingdead - Din Djarin x F! Reader.

11. Stitches by @djarinsbeskar - Din Djarin x F! Reader.

12. Stranger At My Gate by @leslie-lyman - Pero Tovar x Modern! OFC.

13. Sunshine on a Cloudy Day by @pedrito-friskito - Frankie Morales x F! Reader.

14. Intimidation Tactics by @whataperfectwasteoftime - Marcus Pike x Dave York x F! Reader.

15. Peñas Anatomy by @guess-my-next-obsession - Javier Peña x OFC/Reader Lucky.

16. Cognitive Dissonance by @prolix-yuy - Agent Whiskey x F! Reader Sugar.

17. Fix You by @astoryisaloveaffair - Frankie Morales x F! Nanny Reader.

18. My Best Friends Dad by @whiskeynwriting - Dave York x F! Reader.

19. Sinners by @brandyllyn - Pero Tovar x F! Reader.

20. Façade by @furious-rogue-stuff - Dave York x F! Reader.

21. Lie to Me by @iamskyereads - Javier Peña x F! Reader.

22. Ego & Black Powder by @psychedelic-ink - Pero Tovar x F!Prison Guard.

23. Saturdays with Javier by @wildemaven - Javier Peña x F! Reader.

24. Black Sheeps by @charnelhouse - Dave York x F! Reader.

25. Like a River by @radiowallet - Macus Moreno x F! Reader x Frankie Morales.

I also wanted to share TEN of my all time favourite stories by @absurdthirst because it’s literally impossible to pick just one.

1. Stormy Secrets - Dave York x F! Reader.

2. Starvation - Ezra x F! Reader.

3. Xingjião - Pero Tovar x F! Reader.

4. Married to the Mafia - Dave York x F! Reader.

5. Under His Skin - Dave York x F! Reader.

6. Late for Valentines - Dave York x F! Reader.

7. The Donor - Marcus Pike x F! Reader x Dave York.

8. Protective Big Brother - Frankie Morales x F!Davis Reader.

9. Murphy's Sister - Javier Peña x F!Murphy Reader.

10. Daddy Dieter - Dieter Bravo x F! Reader.

PLEASE NOTE - I AM DOING A FOLLOW RECS LIST NEXT!

If I follow you and you didn't make it onto this list - you will be on the next one! Also I will be doing a mini post for published and soon to be published books!

I'm sorry if anyone is missing, it's always a pain trying to remember everyone but this is a list of the fics that mean a lot to me and that i love so so so much!

[lipglossanon]

hi gloss hope you’re having a good day so far <3

so hear me out… country boy/cowboy leon x spoiled city girl reader🛐🛐🛐 (i have a thing for cowboys, i blame agent whiskey for this shit😭)

leon’s only used to country girls so when him and you get together he’s like amazed at how different your lives are he’s used to getting dirty, working hard, not depending on anyone for anything and then you come along you’re spoiled, never worked a day in your life cause of ‘daddy’s money’, and you won’t even let dirt hit your shoe

one day he’s forcing you to help out on the farm, you’re bored ofc so you decide to mess with leon. you’re teasing him and stuff, when finally you take his cowboy hat and put it on, it makes him smile down at you as he laughs under his breath. “you know about the rule, right, sweetheart?” he asks, making you look at him slightly confused before laughing. “there’s no way you actually do that stupid rule, leon.”

long story short; he definitely believes in that joke rule, ‘cause now you’re on top of him, riding him like a damn cowgirl. and GOD the thought of teasing him while you ride him, saying stuff like “you like this city girl pussy, baby?” and, “bet you never even had a city girl, probably used to those stupid country girls.” and then, he starts getting a tiny bit mad at the teasing, making you just tease him more, all while mocking his accent, which he HATES when you do it ‘cause he believes you’re not doing it right.

uh.. anyways… country boy leon brainrot (i need therapy so bad..)

like always, remember to eat something if u haven’t, drink some water, and go out on a walk if you can. bye! -🩵

Hiya 🩵 anon!! 👋

And I’m having a great day so far (I hope you are too!!)

🤭 I had a friend in middle school whose dad was kind of a cowboy; he had a small ranch and horses. I went to my first rodeo with her and was like this is just okay 🤣

(Oh my god, you should watch Son In Law!!! It’s an older movie with Pauly Shore but the gist is the same 😆 except he’s the city boy and it’s a country girl 🤣 it’s so silly but I love it)

Anywho, enough of my rambling 🤭 but hot damn 🥵

The teasing!!! 😩 but to be fair no one nails the accent right lmao

God but after he’s tired of her teasing he just flips her onto her back and fucks her stupid

“Aww honey thought y’was gonna show me how good that city girl pussy was gonna grip me, c’mon show me. Oooh, tight little cunt but I think y’can do better’n that.”

[trulybetty]

Sunday | Week In Review I

So in order to try and be consistent with this, I’ve kept a running Notes page open to keep track of my week.

As I mentioned last week, I don’t expect this every week, I am me. But I am going to keep trying to make an effort to support my fellow creators.

If there’s something you’ve enjoyed this week, please feel to reblog this and tag me so I can check it out and share 💙

Also, not that I feel it needs to be said, but this is a reflection of what I have personally read and enjoyed.

B x

Truly Betty Updates This Week…

New York Part I (Marcus Pike x f!reader)

Fics I Enjoyed This Week…

Conversations with a Movie Star | Chapter 1 by @gnpwdrnwhiskey Even if you’re not a fan of Dieter Bravo, the dialogue in this alone is worth checking out this opening chapter for this new fic. Ava is an OFC down on her luck after being fired, from her families paper no less, and has stumbled across the Bravo Inn… I’ll let Lellen’s writing do the rest

Stripper Jack Trilogy | P. III by @psychedelic-ink The conclusion of maybe the definitive trilogy of trilogies? I don’t think anyone had Stripper Jack on their 2023 bingo cards, but he’s earned his space and I won’t have any arguments on it. 

Hungry Hearts | Chapter by @atinylittlepain Not many Joel AU’s I’ll jump into, but Bruce Springsteen and Joel Miller? Signed myself the fuck up for that as soon as it was announced. The unfolding of Joel and Cherry's relationship in the summer of '86 against them running back into one another 17 years later is such a great dynamic. 

Fall Apart Again | Chapter 1 + 2 by @wildemaven Heidi spoiled us this week, with not one, but TWO chapters of her new Joel fanfic. I don’t think I’ve gotten so emotional over an opening chapter to a fic before like I did with this one! Then the second chapter? Just bury me now… but actually don’t, I want to see the end of this fic first!

The Layover | Chapter 9 by @goodwithcheese How did Megan describe her fanfics? Hallmark movies with smut? She's not wrong. This whole series so far has been a rollercoaster of emotions and keeps delivering each week without fail. Not only are you rooting for Reader + Frankie, but Jules and Santiago anyone? Or maybe just Jules herself because she's just the boss.

Late Night Texts | Chapter 9 by @mvtthewmurdvck I think it's safe to say it's fanfics like Late Night Texts that have got me back in my rom-com/hopeless romantic era. I don't want to give too much away if you've not had the pleasure of reading this - but it has all the hallmarks of a good rom-com set on the backdrop of the early 2000s and with Javier Peña. If you're like me and still trying to make your way through Narcos or haven't watched it yet - please don't let it stop you, you won't be sorry!

A Little FaceTime by @stardustandskycrystals I’m still thinking about this fic days later and may have gone back to read it again. Trust me, just read this - you don’t need an explanation or reason, just read it. Even if Javi isn’t your jam (wasn’t on my list before, that’s all changed now) - it won’t disappoint!

Things I’m Looking Forward to Starting…

Decoherence by @prolix-yuy Westworld and Jack ‘Agent Whiskey’ Daniels crossover, yes, please! It is also reminding me that I never finished season one and should do something about it…

Pleased to Meet You by @intheorangebedroom This is a constant on my dash and on my TBR pile for a while with so many good comments - also getting into my Frankie era, so it’s perfect timing!

The Pilot & His Girl by @avastrasposts Been waiting to savour this one! So you’ve got the Last of Us and you’ve got Triple Frontier, two of my favourite things… what happens when you mush them together? You get a wild ride through the outbreak with Frankie & Reader - I cannot wait to get into this!

Visiting by @ladamedusoif This is another regular on my dash and on my TBR that I’m hoping to get stuck into this week. A college AU of Mr. Ben from the SNL sketch. Fully fleshed out and on the backdrop of New England, I’m ready to get swept away with this promise of a slow burn.

The House by @gemmahale A Jack Daniels x OFC (Best Friend) series coming soon focusing on a long-lost friendship, an inheritance, and Jack sounding like the scallion he is? Cannot wait.

Posts I Enjoyed This Week…

@rhoorl’s announcement of their Triple Frontier AU, Delta Landscaping with mood board and logo! The residents of Tumblr won’t know what’s hit the neighbourhood when they roll into town! 

Thanks to @gnpwdrnwhiskey I will never look at baby hippos without thinking of Dieter Bravo

Everyone’s participation in the WIP poll tag game, it was so fun to see my dash just filled with so many creative people and so many amazing ideas! It was a neat peek into everyone’s draft folders!

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week…

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse - FINALLY got to see it this week, and it did not disappoint. Have not stopped thinking about it since!

My rom-com era has returned, and I’m deep into embracing my forgotten love of a good rom-com. So far this week it’s been The Lake House, You’ve Got Mail & Always Be My Baby. Also it gave way to a Keanu Reeves appreciation post, come share your favourite Keanu!

This Week’s Song… Went waaaayyyy back for this one, an amazing album too - the Sterephonics are one of my favourite bands of all time 🩶

Hope everyone has a great Sunday & here's to a new week!

Please feel free to share your own favourites from the week or what you're looking forward to this week - not a tag game, so no pressure for you to share if you're not feeling it ❤️ xx

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend Update 02/11/2024

Nerdie! It's the middle of the month, how are you?

Good. Nothing to complain about. Mainly relaxed and then worked Thursday and Friday. My orientee made me laugh.

Oh? How so?

She said that now that she's had some different preceptors she enjoys my balances of being a bit hands off since I know she's experienced, but still checking in during the shift to see how things are going. (Puffs out chest and also wonders if that's a good or bad thing.)

I mean, if she said it's fine, it should be fine right? Now did you do anything writing this week?

I did a bit. Not as much as I normally do. I'm gearing up for projects I have either agreed to or planned for myself.

My two fics are quite different. One was silly and sweet and the other was filth. Nerdie in a nutshell really:

Is it for the wallet of the shoebox? (Tim Rockford x plus size female reader) Tim being silly in a bookstore leads to a serious conversation and a partial photoshoot at home. Comedy and domestic fluff with slight spice.

One Pass for the both of Us (Lucian Flores x female reader x Benny Miller) You and your boyfriend Lucian have the same hall pass. All smut with sweatpants and gold chains.

Working on two things I promised people. One requested fluff and the other action and smut.

I decided to start a new series (because clearly I don't have enough - Dieter, Frankie and Tim give Nerdie a death glare) 👀 because this Pedro character was in my WIPs way before the three of you! Might even help me brainstorm…

Two Hearts by the Ocean will feature Javier Gutierrez x Abigail (plus size OFC). The vibe is sweet summer romance. Mainly fluff every Wednesday, not sure how many parts, at least five. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for it. I have a few people in mind but if you'd like to be added, let me know. 😆

Roc & Doc and Weddings 101 with Dieter are still ongoing, no worries. Tim and Dieter have calmed. Frankie is a bit pissed still but you have the longest masterlist Fish! You don’t care…well. Okay. 🫡

I might be trying to figure out how to write Ezra. I love reading fics with the man, but his speech patterns have so many nuances to it. I've been studying @morallyinept aka Jett's Pedro Pascal Character Database that she's been compiling and her entry on Ezra from Prospect has been invaluable. It's an excellent reference for Pedro character fic writers or if you just wanna know more. She also has one specifically on Ezra’s speech patterns that I swear I’ve read at least four times.

It's me, I'm the problem. 😭 I’m either overthinking or not focusing on the right parts. Ugh…

Fics I read this week: ( I took time off work and had plenty of time to read - still didn't get to everything. 🥸)

Movie Night by @munsonownsmyass (Zach Ellison x reader)

No game at all (but I can do this) by @for-a-longlongtime (Marcus Pike x Tim Rockford - Frankie Morales floating in thots)

Wouldn't It Be Nice - Chapter one by @lady-pug (Agent Whiskey x female reader)

02 x birds - Frankie Morales x reader by @trulybetty

Mon Amour by @saturn-rings-writes (Jake Lockley x black female reader)

The Stars by @youvebeenlivingfictional (Poe Dameron x reader)

Mutual by @morallyinept (Ezra x female reader)

Dinner Party by @lavendertales (Steven Grant x fem reader)

The Mercenary and the Whore by @absurdthirst and @storiesofthefandomlovers

Comedy of Errors (MK Spring Bingo #3) by @soft-girl-musings (Steven Grant x GN reader)

03 x snowfall - Marcus Pike x reader by @trulybetty

Ambrosial by @spacecowboyhotch (Din Djarin x fem. black reader)

Half of you - part 1 and part 2 by @foxilayde (Santiago Garcia x female reader)

God Speed by @magpiepills (Tim Rockford x female reader)

Not for nothing @magpiepills (Ezra x female reader)

Perfect Fit by @lowlights (Frankie Morales x plus size reader)

To the Flame - chapter 5 by @pedroshotwifey (Dark Javier Peña x female reader)

Come back to me by @reallyrallyauthor (Poe Dameron x female reader)

If you’re not looking at @immarocketman ‘s art, then I feel sad for you. It’s beautiful 🤗 They put out a sketch of Din/Cobb this week that’s apparently going to have a fanfic written about it by @theywhowriteandknowthings

There was also an excellent head cannon about Sarah’s younger years by @clickergossip that resonated with me on Black girlhood. ☺️

That's about it until next week! 🥰

Stay hydrated and safe!

Love Nerdie 💜

[sheerfreesia007]

Fluffmas #9

Title: Fluffmas #9

Fandom: Kingsman

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x OFC!

Author: @sheerfreesia007​

Prompt: Snowed In

Words: 744

Warnings: Fluff

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo, @athalien

Gif Credit: @romanosgirl1978

The room was blanketed in bright light and quietness that made you slow your movements as you blinked away the sleep from your eyes. You and Jack had managed to get to the nearest safe house while on mission up in the Rocky Mountains, thankfully it had been well stocked and was able to run on generators to keep the two of you warm while you were there. The snow storm has given you great coverage as the mission to capture any intel on the Ervani Group that was making its way through the black market, but it totally cut you off from HQ. The snow had gotten so bad in the few hours of the storm yesterday that the two of you had barely made it out of the Ervani warehouse as it was being evacuated and to the safe house.

Stretching slowly you snuggled further under the large heavy comforter and smiled to yourself, it was a successful mission and you had managed to get some great sleep in after trekking through the snow. Moaning low in your throat in pleasure as you felt your muscles pop and stretch as your body shifted on the bed. Just as you turned to bury your face into your pillow you smelt cooking bacon and heard your stomach growl loudly. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed you looked around the room wondering if you could find some sweats to wear so that you didn’t grow cold.

It took you a few minutes but once you were bundled up you shuffled out of the bedroom and into the open main area of the safe house. Across the room you could see Jack standing at the stove in a flannel shirt and black sweatpants as the sounds of food cooking filled your ears and the smells of breakfast filled your nose. You move over to the cupboards and begin pulling down plates and cups to set the table before moving to the fridge and pulling out the milk for the bubbling coffee pot in the corner of the counter top. As you pass the small window above the sink you gasp softly at the sight of at least three feet of snow on the ground outside.

“Yeah snow came in fast and hard last night.” Jack said gruffly and the way his tone slithered down your spine made you shiver. You nodded your head at his words as your eyes danced along the brightly lit snow. “Looks like we’re going to be here for a while until the snow starts to melt. I’ve already gotten in contact with Ginger and Champ, they know where we are.” he informs you and you turn to look at him with a happy smile.

“No one I’d rather be snowed in with than you Jack.” you tell him brightly and then move around him to head over to the coffee pot. You didn’t see Jack’s sharp gaze as he stared at you while you made the two cups of coffee, he had felt warmth bloom in his chest at your words and he felt happiness rise inside of himself. You didn’t seem to notice the effect you had on him and he wondered if you’d ever notice it as you set his coffee cup down at his side before turning your back to the counter and resting back against it. Taking a sip of his coffee he hummed pleasantly as he realized you had made his coffee the exact way he liked it.

“You know my coffee order?” he asked curiously as he turned his head to face you. You smiled at him warmly as you rested your arm over your stomach and took another sip of your coffee.

“Course I do. Ever since we started working together as partners I learned your coffee order.” you told him fondly. Jack stood there for a moment before realization hit him.

“8 years?” he asked incredulously and you chuckled softly before nodding your head at him. “Really?” he asked, still baffled. You turned with a happy smile on your face before you leaned up on tiptoe and placed a chaste kiss to his cheek before moving over to the table.

“Really.” you said over your shoulder with a smile before you sat down at the table. Jack scoffed softly as a permanent smile formed on his face before he brought over the plates of food for the two of you.

[tessa-quayle]

this married mother of two would also like to look and appreciate and KNOCK SOME SENSE into these “idiot dorksicles” 😂

at the risk of weeping again (it’s the onions, I swear, I'm not crying you’re crying), I need to reread and study how you wrote this because it is one of the best - if not the best - examples of POV back-and-forth switches.  So smooth, unlike our favorite dorksicles.  And that interlude where their quotes to their families are side-by-side - fucking virtuoso. it’s ferociously brilliant without being precious.  the fic isn’t even over and the audience is already on their feet. 

just a few more thoughts: 1) love how the families are low-key staging interventions, 2) I spy that Pedro tattoo shout-out ;), 3) so many mentions of holiday movies but have y’all noticed this chapter is like a holiday movie too?!, 4) appreciate the moon landing and Saturn V part - great evocative choice for so many reasons, particularly in capturing Ben and Lydia’s connection, angst, wonder, ache, and hope so overwhelmingly well.  But it begs the question: who’s Michael Collins here? 😎

Visiting - Chapter 8: Sister Winter

(Moodboard by the wonderful @cutesyscreenname)

Pairing: Professor!Ben (College AU) x OFC Lydia/fem!Reader (reader POV/2nd POV)

Summary: Seeking a change of scenery after her life falls apart, Lydia crosses the Atlantic and arrives in a small New England town, to spend a year expanding her intellectual horizons as a visiting professor of art history at a small liberal arts college. Her growing friendship with Ben Morales, professor of Hispanic literature, forces Lydia to confront the fallout from her past - and raises unexpected questions about the future.

Chapter summary: The morning after brings complicated feelings as Ben and Lydia return to their respective families for the holiday season.

Word Count: 7.7k

Rating: Explicit (MDNI; 18+)

Content (chapter specific): Professor Ben College AU; smaller-than-usual-for-this-fandom age gap (Lydia is 42, and Ben is 47); canon is not a thing here; slow burn; idiots-to-lovers; references to PiV sex; strong language; alcohol consumption; weight and body insecurity; serious self-esteem issues; references to panic attacks and anxiety disorders; references to the holidays; both Ben and Lydia come from families that mark Christmas; angst central.

A/N: The title of this chapter is inspired by Sufjan Stevens' eponymous song, which is one of my go-to Melancholy Winter Tracks. And yes, it was really weird writing Christmas in July.

I'm so grateful for all the love I've had for this story and for this pair. Every comment and reblog and ask is a little lift to my soul!

This chapter introduces Lydia and Ben's extended families. In addition to their chosen and found families, both in work and in their friendship groups, this pair are from closely-knit families of origin - though of course, that brings with it its own challenges.

Further A/N after the chapter to avoid spoilers.

See the Series Masterlist for an outline of Lydia's story and background.

Cross-posting to AO3.

Chapter 7 - Chapter 9

@lunapascal and @julesonrecord - thank you for cheering me on and offering wise and practical advice with this difficult chapter. @tessa-quayle - I am always so touched by your enthusiasm for these idiot dorksicles (a term I am appropriating from Jules).

Taglist:

@lunapascal, @julesonrecord, @cutesyscreenname, @tessa-quayle, @vermillionwinter, @iamskyereads, @tieronecrush, @perennialdoll247, @love-the-abyss, @imaswellkid, @intheorangebedroom, @javierisms, @fuckyeahdindjarin, @littlemisspascal, @khindahra, @pedrostories, @readingiskeepingmegoing, @ruebyretro, @rhoorl

Ben is a deep sleeper - or maybe he was just completely worn out after your exploits that night. 

Either way, he doesn’t even move a muscle as you shift towards the edge of the mattress, fumbling your way out of bed and carefully tip-toeing across the floor, gathering your underwear and dress as you come across them on the floor.

The panic hit you when you woke around 5am, eyes flicking open suddenly in the dark stillness of Ben’s bedroom. The only sound was his soft, steady breathing, interspersed with the occasional tiny snore. In slumber, he somehow appeared even more handsome, more beautiful, snugly nestled into his pillow and hair sticking up at all angles. Fragments of light peeked around the edges of the blinds, picking out some of his features.

Whereas a couple of hours before his lovely face had felt like a comfort, in the wee small hours of the morning it triggered doubt. Your brain promptly forgot everything he had said about how beautiful he thought you were, how much he’d wanted you. Instead, it struck up a familiar, repetitive chorus.

He couldn’t really want you. He’s so gorgeous. You don’t deserve him. He’s sexy and kind and good and you’re a mess. Even if he thinks he wants you now, eventually he’ll realise he’s made a mistake. 

In the light of day, you might have been able to muster the little tricks you’d learned in therapy to quiet the voice of your inner bully. In the early hours, vulnerable and anxious in Ben’s bed, the chorus simply grew more insistent. 

So you carefully get out of bed and pick up your clothes. You pad out of the bedroom and find the bathroom, hoping that a splash of cold water might reset your thinking. 

Instead, the sight of yourself in the mirror just serves as further evidence for the case against you. Your makeup is smudged, settling into every line and wrinkle. You look jowly and heavy: matronly, even, and certainly not worthy of the handsome, good man whose bed you’d shared. 

You feel the defences around your heart building themselves back up again. 

You shouldn’t have let them down in the first place.

Still, you seem to want to somehow change your own mind. You tip-toe back across the hallway and peer around the door into the bedroom, as if maybe seeing Ben might quell the panic that’s beating a frantic, jolting rhythm in your chest. 

He’s still in the same position, his back to you as you stand at the door. There’s not a lot of him that’s visible, save for the tufts of messy hair and the outline of his broad form under the comforter. 

The panic eases momentarily as you feel a surge of affection and want. For an instant, you allow yourself to remember how good it felt to make love with him, to laugh and kiss and hold and touch and fuck together.

You have to leave in a few months. It would have to end one way or another. You couldn’t face that. You couldn’t go through the pain. And what if you hurt him, too? Better to get out now.

You return to the bathroom to dress quickly and quietly. In the semi-darkness, you pad down the stairs and retrieve your shoes, bag, and coat from the hallway. 

What the fuck are you doing?

“I’m getting out before he has the chance to reject me. Before we get too deep. Before I have to go home. Before it has to end. Before I hurt him.” 

Before I fuck it up, like I always do. I always ruin everything.

You remember from Thanksgiving that there’s a little notepad in the kitchen, for shopping lists and reminders. You think for a few moments before writing a note to Ben, folding it over and affixing it to the front of his fridge with a magnet. 

You know this is going to hurt him.

“Better than really hurting him further down the line, even if I’d never want to. I don’t deserve him.”

You try to block out the memory of the evening before, urgent declarations of want and your bodies pushed together against the hallway wall, as you quietly open the front door and leave. 

His immediate instinct as he blinks awake and stretches his long arms is to reach for you, to find your soft, warm body and pull you to him for another kiss, another cuddle; another chance to feel you, so wet and tight and perfect, as he sinks back into you.

“Mmmmm. Morning, baby.” Nothing.

Ben sits up and realises he’s on his own. He wanders around the upper floor of his home, calling your name, as if he’ll summon you out of the ether by repeating it.

He moves down the stairs and into the hallway, now filled with the crisp morning light of midwinter. Still nothing. 

His final hope is that you’re in the kitchen. Maybe you couldn’t sleep. Maybe you were hungry, or thirsty. 

“Lyddie?”

No you. Just a note.

“What the fuck, Lyddie. What the fuck are you doing?”

He leans back against the countertop, staring at the folded piece of paper - at his name, carefully inscribed in your neat, flowing script.

Dear Ben, 

Thank you for last night - it was great, really. I thought it would be easier if I just headed out. I didn’t want to wake you. Safe travels west. Happy holidays. See you soon. - L.

“Fuck.”

The thing that really drove you out of the safe warmth of Ben Morales’ arms and bed and out into the half-light of a December morning, walking home to your empty apartment alone and afraid, wasn’t your fear of fucking up - at least, not really. It was part of it, true, but what tipped the balance was not just fear, but feelings.

You pack the last of your things for the journey home for the holidays and try to ignore that simple fact. You had kept your defences up so sturdily and so dutifully for a long time, until he came along. Until you had to go catching feelings for a man who lived an entire ocean away from you.

You were frightened of fucking up because what you had - the friendship, whatever situation you entered into when he pressed his lips to yours and took you into his bed - meant the world to you. You were scared of hurting him, and of being hurt, because you cared about him so much. 

It was a strange paradox: you had done something that hurt the two of you now, in order to avoid the potential for greater pain further down the line. You’d always had a natural inclination to run from things that scared or overwhelmed you, after all. In your own, tortured logic, it made sense to run from the sheer force of your feelings for Ben. 

As you checked and double-checked the apartment while waiting for your cab to the airport, you remembered David’s words and felt a little guilty. You’d tried, though. You’d tried to let the light in. You just hadn’t expected it to blind you.

You’ve been avoiding your phone, save for sending a message to your family group chat to let them know you were safely en route to the airport. When your mother’s name pops up, you open the message.

MOM: Good woman, Lyd, you’re there good and early! Time to have a nice coffee and a bite to eat. Can’t wait to see you! 

Your mother was always thrilled when you got to the airport ahead of schedule, knowing your propensity for last-minute panic. You had no idea how to explain to her why you were sitting, red-eyed and heartbroken, in an airside coffee shop three whole hours early. 

You still hadn’t opened the two voice notes from Ben. A missed call on the phone, which you spotted after you got through security, then the two notes. Part of you had hoped that if you just ignored them long enough, they’d go away. Typical Lyd.

You take a deep breath and a sip of your enormous festive coffee, topped with whipped cream and sprinkles and reeking of peppermint syrup. You pop in your earbuds and press play.

The sound of his voice is like a knife to the heart. You’d feared anger, but instead Ben sounds like he’s aching.

“Hi, Lyddie - Lydia. I, uh, I got your note. Um. I guess I thought we were on the same page, about… about last night. Maybe not. Sorry if I got the wrong idea. I… anyway. I guess you’re on your way home now, or about to be. I’ll, um - I’ll talk to you. Happy holidays. Safe travels.”

It’s all you can do not to run out of that airport and hop into a cab back to his place, to hold him, to tell him how sorry you are, to beg him to forgive you for being a fucking idiot.

You’ve fucked it up. Told you you would.

You press play on the second voice note. His voice, still cracking a little, sounds stronger, steadier, more determined.

“Hi, just wanted to say - I don’t regret it. I don’t regret that we spent the night together. I’ll never regret that, no matter what. It meant something to me. I don’t want you to regret it, Lyd. Please.”

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you press ‘call’. He doesn’t answer. 

Ben listens to your voice note again while he’s sitting in the departures lounge, a day after you’d passed through. He hasn’t slept very much in the last day and a half. This morning, when he was washing his face and trimming his beard and moustache, he was sure he’d aged a decade in the space of less than 48 hours. The delay to his flight gives him plenty of time to nurse an enormous black coffee, though he wishes it was something even stronger.

“Hi. I’m at the airport. I tried calling, but - I guess you’re busy. Or maybe you just don’t want to talk. I understand why you - listen, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what - I can explain, it’s just - it’s hard not being able to do that face to face. I promise, I can explain. I can. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Ben.”

Your voice catches at that point in the voice note, and he can hear you trying not to completely break down. It breaks his heart every time he listens to the message.

“I guess I will see you in the new year, then? I promise I’ll explain then. Safe travels west. Okay, then. Bye.”

Jet lag is a bitch. But you summon the strength and focus to slip in your earbuds in the privacy of your childhood bedroom at home, and press play on the next voice note he sent you. 

You might be imagining it, but his tone is softer. He still sounds hurt, but calmer, somehow. 

“Hey there. I’m just about to fly out. I got your message and - yeah. Probably best to see how things are in January. Maybe it’ll be good to have some space, clear our heads. Anyway.” He pauses, his voice quieter. “It’s good to hear your voice, Lyd.”

Oh, fuck. He wants space. Fuck. That’s not good. 

You take three attempts at your response before you manage to record a coherent message. 

“Hey. I hope the flights are okay, and that you get there safely. Yeah - um, yeah. Space, clear our heads. So, guess I’ll give you your space, until I see you and can explain. And it’s so good to hear your voice, too.”

You press send, your eyes glancing over the little round picture of Ben at the top of the screen. You say the words you’d left unsaid at the end of your message. 

“God, I miss you, darling.”

TJ Morales waits inside the arrivals hall at San Francisco International with his twelve year old twin sons, Dylan and Carlos. There’s only eighteen months between TJ - Thomas Juan, to give him his full name - and his older brother, and despite living on opposite sides of the country for a decade, they’re very close. It’s become an annual tradition, when Ben returns for the holidays, for TJ and the boys to pick him up.

This year, the three are decked out in an array of Star Wars-themed Christmas shirts to welcome Ben home: Dylan’s printed with a pattern of C3PO in a Santa hat, Carlos wearing a shirt emblazoned with Chewbacca wrapped in fairy lights, and their father wearing a pattern rather sweetly titled ‘We Wish You A Merry Sithmas’.

The running joke in the family was that TJ was the ‘cool brother’, a title he’d given himself when they were in middle school, much to the amusement of their parents. In many ways, that dynamic held fast to the present day. TJ, with his laidback personality, his long dark locks and neat beard, his array of plaid shirts, band T-shirts, and casual hoodies, still seemed to embody West Coast cool in a way that his more serious, anxious brother didn’t. His job certainly helped - a sound engineer for a video game studio, the kind of job both boys could have only dreamed of as they hid their shared Game Boy from their younger sister, Teresa.

Even so, as Ana Morales liked to remind people when she spoke about her sons, when she’d asked a three year old TJ what he wanted to be when he grew up, his answer was clear: “I wanna be like Ben.”

The sliding doors open and passengers begin to stream out, excitedly greeted by their families and friends. The two boys keep watch at the barrier, their dark curls bobbing up and down as they compete to spot their beloved tío first.

“Tío Ben!!” 

Carlos wins this year, waving frantically to his uncle as he pushes his luggage trolley through the doors.

Ben grins widely as he wraps an arm around each of his nephews, ruffling their hair as they show off their new holiday shirts. TJ throws his arms around his big brother, embracing him tightly. “Welcome home, hermano. We missed you.”

As he pulls away, TJ notices how tired Ben looks. His smile, genuine as it is, doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“You okay, Ben?” he asks in a low voice as they follow the boys out of the terminal and in the direction of the parking lot.

Ben nods, putting his arm around his brother as they walk. “I’m okay. Just tired. It’s been a long semester. I’m so glad to be home with you guys - it’s been forever.”

“Can I ask you something, Lyd?”

Your younger - only - sibling, Kate, is bouncing her one year old daughter Evie on her lap while Cora, her older girl, dances around the room and sings along to Encanto.

“We don’t talk about Bru- sure, of course. What’s up?”

“Are you alright? You’re normally full of energy when you’re home for the holidays and you just seem - I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like someone’s turned down your brightness.”

You haven’t said anything to Kate about Ben - well, nothing more than acknowledging him as part of the wider group of friends you’d established at Barrow. You certainly haven’t told her about your growing closeness, or what had happened, or - god forbid - your feelings for him.

It wasn’t that you two weren’t close enough for sharing that kind of confidence. You’d been brought even closer together since your ex-partner had cheated and left. You just felt like if you actually articulated the words, it would make it too real. Too much. Too fragile, too likely to disappear like every other crush or love affair you’d ever had.

“I’m just tired, I think. It was a lot in a few months - moving there, adjusting to a new environment, meeting all those new people, doing new classes. You know I’m always wrecked at the end of the semester.”

Kate raises an eyebrow sceptically while Evie chews on a giraffe-shaped teething toy. “There’s something off.”

You exhale, frustrated. “I’m fine.”

“Did you meet someone?”

Your eyes widen. How the FUCK does she know?

“I don’t know what the hell you’re on about. What gives you that idea?”

“You were happy when we’d talk and FaceTime. You were always so excited going out with your new friends. And now you’re back here you’re tired and gloomy. It just makes me wonder, you know - was there more than intellectual stimulation going on over there. If you know what I mean.”

You roll your eyes. “Jesus, Kate.”

“They’re working you too hard, Benjamin. Doesn’t your poor brother look tired, Thomas?”

TJ exhales and takes a sip of his coffee. He was used to the annual routine - their mother fussing over Ben like he’d been thoroughly neglected since the last time he was home. 

“I asked him earlier and he said he was fine. Didn’t you, B?”

Ben nods. “I’m fine, mom.”

Ana Morales does not seem convinced. “Well, you’ve got a couple of weeks now to rest up. We’ll take care of you.”

TJ shoots a look at the twins, who giggle conspiratorially.

The door into the kitchen opens and Lucy, TJ’s wife, staggers in carrying a precarious stack of lilac-coloured cake boxes printed with the logo for Pun in the Oven, her bakery and coffee shop in the city. Ben and TJ immediately stand up to relieve her of the burden, placing the boxes on the kitchen table as Lucy - or as she’s more usually called, Luce - wipes her brow and grins in the direction of her brother-in-law.

“BENJAMIIIIIIIIN!” She grabs Ben and pulls him in for a hug, smiling widely. “Missed you, man!”

Ben smiles softly at her in turn. “You look great, Luce. Any new tattoos since I saw you last?”

Luce arches an eyebrow and holds out her left hand, revealing a simple outline of a heart in purple ink in the space between her index finger and thumb. 

“Hope you don’t mind, dude. Took some inspiration from your bullseye for this one, just because I always thought the placement was cool.”

Ben spreads the fingers on his left hand, flexing his thumb slightly as he looks at the small bullseye tattoo he had done during his junior year abroad. 

“I’m honoured. Any chance your husband might get a matching one, eh?” 

Luce giggles and wraps an arm around TJ. “You know he hates needles. He got our initials done, that was enough for me. He was so brave.” She plants a kiss to TJ’s cheek, triggering dry-heaving noises from their sons.

Ana surveys the stack of cake boxes on her table. “You didn’t need to, Luce. This is far too much.”

Luce shakes her head and holds up her hands. “Nonsense. Just a couple of the leftovers from today and a few extra batches of the holiday specials I threw in this morning. Plus, for the homecoming…”

She lifts the lid on one of the boxes and pushes it in Ben’s direction.

“Coffee and walnut - your favourite.”

Ben’s eyes light up and he hugs his sister-in-law. “This is the best gift I could ask for. Thanks, Luce.”

“Don’t you think he looks tired, Luce? He needs to rest, poor boy.” Ana tilts her head at Ben, who is already searching for a knife to cut a slice of the cake.

Luce does think Ben looks tired, but there’s something else that’s just not quite right. A sadness, somewhere, or a resurgence of his anxiety. You can see it in his eyes. Maybe her husband knows more.

“We’ll look after him.” 

There’s always been something special about Christmas Eve. As a child it was the anticipation and excitement for the day to come, desperate to go to bed but too excited to sleep. As an adult, drafted in to help prep the food for the next day’s dinner, you peeled potatoes, sliced carrots, and monitored the turkey slowly cooking in the oven while listening to carols and Christmas songs on the radio. 

More than that, there was something in the air - maybe not ‘magic’, contrary to the message pushed in every TV ad since November. But possibility: of transformation, of newness, of togetherness, whether with blood family, found family, or whatever community you chose for yourself.

Or, just maybe, you’d completely internalised A Christmas Carol. Never mind Charles Dickens, that was mostly the Muppets’ fault.

The arrival of your little nieces in recent years has brought back some of the old traditions from your own childhood. You’d been followed around for most of the day by Cora, who had turned three a few months before.

“How does Santa bring all the things, Auntie Lyd?”

You smile and continue peeling potatoes. “I think he has some magic that lets him have a really big sleigh that just carries all the toys for everyone.”

“But then it’s too big and won’t fly.”

“No, it will. Because it’s magic.”

“But then he has’ta come down the chimley.” She gazes up at you, narrowing her eyes. “Should just use the magic to put the presents down.”

You’re stuck there. Thankfully, your brother-in-law Marc arrives in search of another slice of cake, and you palm her off on her daddy. 

With Cora and Evie safely in bed and asleep, you and your parents help your sister and her husband set up the living room, carefully setting out the Santa gifts and filling the little stockings embroidered with each girl’s name. 

Marc takes a careful bite out of the slice of cake and drains the glass of port left at the fireplace. “I don’t know how he isn’t absolutely rat-arsed, with all the port and whiskey and that being left out for him. No wonder he’s falling down chimneys.”

With your parents gone to bed, and Marc watching Die Hard on a random movie channel, you and your sister unwind for a bit with tea and Christmas cookies. She eyes you up, as if steeling herself to make a confession. Or, as it turns out, to encourage you to make one.

“So, who is he?” Kate poses the question at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around her gigantic Christmas mug of tea.

You put down your own mug and sigh.

One of Cora’s favourite questions about Santa Claus is how he does it all in one night. Apart from magic, which even at three she seems sceptical about, you tend to cite time zones as an explanation.

After all, how else could Cora and Evie be already starting to wake up to their gifts on one side of the world, while Santa hasn’t yet visited the extended Morales clan on the other?

With Luce and TJ hosting Christmas this year, they extended an invitation to Ben and Ana to stay with them on Christmas Eve. In truth, they hoped being roped in for an 80s Christmas movie marathon with his nephews would help distract Ben a little. Maybe even get him in the holiday mood. 

By 11pm, Lucy has finished the prep for tomorrow’s meal and is shooing her sons to their beds. Their grandmother retired a couple of hours before to the guest bedroom, carrying a dog-eared copy of A Christmas Carol - she likes to read the last couple of chapters every Christmas Eve, even if Tiny Tim always makes her cry.

“I’m going to head up, babe - don’t stay up too late. You have all the stuff for the sofa bed, Ben?”

Ben turns to acknowledge his sister-in-law, nodding. “All here. Thanks, Luce, it’s really nice spending Christmas Eve with you guys.”

She smiles warmly. “It’s our pleasure. Teej, I’ll see you in a bit? G’night, Ben. Merry Christmas.”

The Morales boys are sitting on TJ’s couch, each drinking a beer while Scrooged plays, quietly, on the TV. 

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” TJ runs a finger along the condensation on his bottle of beer, sleeves rolled up on his blue flannel. 

Ben fiddles with the cuff of his own, pine-green checked shirt. “As in…?”

His younger brother fixes him with a glare.

“As in what - or should I say, who’s - on your mind?”

“He’s called Ben. He’s a literature professor at Barrow.”

“Her name is Lyddie - I mean, Lydia. She’s a visiting professor. I’m sure I’ve mentioned her?”

“I met him on the very first day. He was my - what did he call himself? - my ‘welcome wagon’.”

“We went to dinner, as we normally do with the visiting people. And we just…man. Clicked. As friends.” 

“I mean, I made a Big Night reference and he got it? Honestly, I hadn’t had such a good time in…I can’t remember. I told him about what happened - the shit hitting the fan, and all that.”

“I guess we just started hanging out. Having coffee, talking - just friendly stuff, you know? She was new, we had a lot in common. I - I liked having her around.”

“He was so sweet to me when I was settling in. Like, I have made some really good friends over there. But sometimes he’d bring me coffee in the afternoon, and - I dunno, I started to look forward to it.”

“She’s unbelievably smart, TJ. Doesn’t think it. Always puts herself down. Same as when you try to tell her she’s pretty. But she’s so fucking bright, I swear to god. And she has the best taste in movies and music. And she is pretty. More than pretty.”

“And he’s so kind and giving. He’s running this whole diversity programme to try to make Barrow less white and wealthy and he’s had so much shit about it from fucking dickheads who think Ben’s not as good as them because he’s Latino and because his parents had to fucking work hard for a living. Assholes. All that and he’s really goddamn handsome.”

“And she’s a bit of a firecracker when she wants to be. You know that culture war idiot Lacroix? She just went for him at the away day because he was giving me shit.”

“He’s so fucking funny. The biggest dork you’ve ever seen. Actually did a ‘reeling you in’ dance at my birthday drinks to get me on the dancefloor. Once, he laughed so hard in my office that his glasses flew off his face. Hanging out with him is - was - so great.”

“She’s got this knack of knowing how to lift my spirits. I said to her one day that I’ve never laughed as much in work before - I meant before her.”

“I was the only person to get who he’d dressed up as for Halloween. That was a fun night - at Evan’s. You know Evan. You’re mutuals with Evan on Instagram, right? We were a little bit merry. Well, a lot merry. It sounds so fucking dumb but we touched and I swear I could feel electricity going off in my brain, and I…I hadn’t experienced that in years. Years.”

“Had her on my lap on the ride home from Evan’s. I put it down to being a bit drunk on Spooky Margs but honestly, I didn’t want to let her go when we got to her place. I’ll explain the Spooky Marg another time, man, you do not want to know.”

“We do - did - a lot of movie nerding out together. Did I show you the gifts he got me for my birthday? And the card? He got me a Hitchhiker’s Guide card. Y’know, because -”

“42. The answer to the ultimate question. She’s 42. I don’t think I said that to you. I guess I should have known there was something there the day I ordered that card, huh.”

“I knew there was something there on my birthday, for sure. And dancing with him, to that song - fuck. For a couple of minutes I just let myself pretend, you know? But he never did anything more, not that night.”

“I wasn’t drinking when we went out for her birthday, but she was. So I didn’t want to make a move, in case she wasn’t interested and felt I was trying to take advantage. But I wish I had.”

“He ended up alone in Barrow for Thanksgiving, so he invited me to come over. I’m sure I told you about this? The parade, the movie? Well, it was - it was really nice. God, that’s such a shit way of explaining it. It was just -”

“Mom did a video call, remember? And she saw her and she was all nice as pie and then she was giving me shit about whether Lydia was my girlfriend, and why wasn’t she my girlfriend because she was so pretty and so funny, and - god. You know what she’s like.”

“And all day I kept thinking ‘I wish I could tell you how I feel’, and then I’d remember I was just fucking visiting. I’m temporary. It’s temporary, by default. And he couldn’t want someone like me. And you know I can’t go through that hurt again. You know, Kate. You saw me at my lowest.”

“I did think about asking her out that evening, TJ. I did. But she’d said some stuff about being ‘good friends’ or something, and I just thought it was safer not to. I didn’t want to ruin what we already had. You know? She probably wasn’t interested, that’s what I thought.”

“I went to give him a kiss on the cheek to say thank you.”

“I turned to meet her. I wanted it, wanted to kiss her.”

“And we kissed, accidentally. For a couple of seconds. At least, I thought it was accidental. Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t long.”

“I wasn’t brave enough to kiss her like she ought to be kissed. She panicked and I thought she didn’t want it.”

“I should have kept kissing him.”

“We didn’t see each other for a couple of weeks, between conferences and travel. And fuck it, I missed her.”

“We messaged all the time and I still missed him. We didn’t talk about Thanksgiving. Not until - well.”

“So I told her I meant it. Meant to kiss her.”

“I don’t know what it is but tying a man’s tie is so intimate and so hot and - yep. We kissed properly.”

“We ended up back at my place the night before she went home.”

“We…we were together, the night before I came back over here.”

“I’m not being ‘coy’, TJ. I - okay, we slept together. Happy now?”

“Yes, okay, yes, we slept together that night, at his place.”

“And I asked her to stay. I wanted her to stay over. I was ready to drive her home and get her stuff. I would have gone to the fucking airport with her. Anything.”

“I woke up in the early hours and I just - fuck. I just lost it. I flipped. All the dark shit just came roaring back up.”

“She left a note. I couldn’t believe it.”

“The sex was not bad, fuck off! I can’t believe I’m about to say these words to my baby sister but - best sex I’ve ever had. Four times. Four fucking times.”

“I know I’m blushing, dude. It was really, really fucking good. Really good.”

“Who am I, Kate? A fucking cliché? I left him a fucking note? All because I couldn’t handle having real fucking feelings, because I knew I’d fuck it up. Like I always do. And oh look - SHE FUCKED IT UP. Again.”

“I really thought we were on the same page, you know?”

“He left me a voice note. Here, listen.”

“I tried calling her, but she was already at the airport.”

“I called him back. No answer.”

“I don’t think I would have been able to speak to her. She left me a voice note, too.”

“It would be easier to explain in person, right? Wouldn’t it?” 

“Maybe we needed the space and time apart, anyway. Especially if she regrets it.”

“He said we could do with the space. He said he hopes I don’t regret it. How could I ever regret that, with him? I’ve fucked it up, Kate. I know it would have been pointless anyway with the temporary visiting stupid situation, but - still. I ruined everything.”

Kate reaches over to pat the back of your hand, her festive, red and green manicure glittering as the light bounces off her nails.

“You probably didn’t, love. You always think you did. Can I - can I see a picture of him, if you have one? Want to see this nerdy sex god for myself.”

You open your phone and swipe through your pictures, finding one you’d taken of Ben on Thanksgiving. He’s holding his plate stacked with blueberry pancakes, smiling and bespectacled on the couch as you watch the Macy’s parade.

“Here he is.”

Kate studies the image carefully, eyebrows raised. She zooms in and out a couple of times.

“Well, hello, gorgeous! He’s handsome. Really handsome. Look at that smile, whew. And those eyes!” She zooms in and out again. 

“May I remind you that you are a married mother of two?”

“I can look and appreciate, can’t I?” She swats the air as if brushing your comment away.  “Fuck, it’s like someone engineered him in a lab for you. He even kinda looks like a mature version of those imaginary boyfriends you used to draw in your diary when you were thirteen.”

“He is fucking handsome, isn’t he? He’s so - wait, what? How did you know about those?”

Your sister rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Bitch, I read that thing cover to cover. You were so dramatic. Still are. You got any of the two of you together?”

You open your photos and pull up the photos Ani took of you and Ben dancing the night of your birthday drinks. “These are probably the best.”

Kate’s expression changes when she swipes through the set of pictures, zooming in every so often to look at your and Ben’s expressions more carefully. She looks up at you, hands you back the phone, and looks like she might cry.

“You okay?”

“Fucking hell, Lyd, you’ve got it bad. Both of you - I mean, look at the two of you! I know they’re just pictures but on top of everything you’ve said? I don’t think he’s just got a ‘thing’ for you, I think he’s really into you.” She chews on a cookie. “Remind me what you said in the note again.”

You recount the contents of the missive. 

“It’s just… you clearly have serious feelings for him. You’ve told me all these things about this wonderful guy. You told me it was the best sex you’ve ever had. And then you say ‘it was great’ to him in a shitty note?! I can understand why he’s pissed off.”

“I screwed this up, didn’t I?”

Kate throws her head back in frustration. “Still dramatic. You screwed it up a bit, but - surely he’s not that much of an asshole that he wouldn’t hear you out?” She drains the last of her tea from the mug. “Admittedly if it wasn’t Christmas, I’d be putting you on a flight to San Fran. However - talk when you get back. Explain face to face. Don’t assume the worst. I don’t think he can turn off his feelings that easily.”

“You don’t know that she regrets it. You don’t even know why she left without saying goodbye. You said she’d had some rough shit in the last couple of years. She said the night together was great in the note, didn’t she? And she’s been in touch, so… I dunno, man. I wouldn’t write her off.”

TJ takes the last swig from his bottle of beer and slaps his brother on the thigh.

“Can I see a photo of this Lydia, then?”

Ben sighs and digs around in his jeans pocket for his phone. He chooses the one he’d taken of you on Thanksgiving, sitting in the diner with your grilled cheese sandwich and basket of fries. You’re still wearing your glasses after the movie, smiling at him in your thick cable-knit sweater.

“That’s Lyddie - I mean, Lydia on Thanksgiving. She made that sweater herself, you know. She’s a talented woman.”

TJ smiles as he studies your features, zooming in a little on your bright, happy face.

“She’s a pretty woman, too. Beautiful smile, gorgeous eyes - kind-looking, and you just know she’s smart and funny as hell.” He turns to his older brother, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders. “Your girl is lovely, Hubbell.” 

Ben smiles and huffs a laugh at the reference. “Quoting The Way We Were at me? Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Ana Morales has good taste in movies! Remember the VHS copy she always used to put on and cry at?”

Ben smiles at the memory. He turns to TJ, eyes full of emotion - worry, sadness, and affection. For his little brother, of course - but for you, too.

“I mean it, Ben. She is lovely. She sounds lovely - disappearing act aside, of course. And the way she’s looking at you in that picture - fuck, man. You can just see how much she likes you. You’ve every right to be hurt and angry, but - maybe don’t give up on her. You’re both too fucking old to let a chance like this slide, bro. Don’t let her go.”

Christmas Day is a chaotic whirlwind of overexcited nieces, a family dinner delivered like a military operation, and fighting over what to watch on TV. Same as it ever was. 

It’s nice. It’s comforting. But you’re impossibly lonely, embrace of a loving (if stress-inducing) family unit aside.

Since you’d cut and run a few days before, the steady stream of communication back and forth between you and Ben had essentially ceased, save for the voice notes. It’s become such second nature to you, the constant contact, and the rupture is all the more brutal as a result.

In the early hours of Christmas morning, lying wide awake in your old bed, you remember that during the Apollo missions to the moon they had a thing called LOS, or Loss of Signal. When orbit took the craft to the dark side of the moon, all communication between Mission Control and the astronauts became impossible for a time. 

LOS was nerve-wracking, particularly in the first attempts at lunar orbit. What if they never re-established contact? What if something happened on the dark side, leaving the crew lost forever while the rest of the world carried on? You have heard the recordings, the hiss of static fraying the nerves of those on the ground awaiting the return of the signal, the sound of a voice spinning through the vastness of space.

You’re in extended LOS, you realise. In spite of yourself, you smile, thinking how in any other circumstances Ben - with his Saturn V model and his Apollo 11 sweatshirt - would love the analogy.

“Did you send him a happy Christmas message yet?”

Kate doesn’t even look at you as she says it, all casual. She’s too busy scraping the remains of the Christmas dinner off the plates before stacking them in the dishwasher.

“The fuck?” Her ability to read your mind is starting to become disturbing. 

She swivels. “Did you send Ben a message wishing him a happy Christmas? If I was you I’d take a nice picture and send it. You look cute in that dress.”

“Do you think he wants a Christmas message from me? I doubt it. He wants space.”

Kate closes the dishwasher and presses the start button.

“I don’t think he knows what he wants, probably. Other than you. I’m sure he wants you, going on the way he looked at you in those pictures.”

You make a whining noise. “That was before.”

“You and your apocalyptic thinking. Unfortunately, Lyd, if you want to fix this you’re going to have to be the one leading the fixing. Start with a message.”

She sidles over to the kitchen counter, where your phone is safely tucked away to avoid doom-scrolling, picking it up and waving it menacingly. 

“If you don’t, I will.”

“FINE. But I’m not sending him a cute selfie, that’s ludicrous.”

You retreat to your room. It takes you a full half-hour to pick a photo and compose a message.

A notification appears at the top of your screen.

KATE: SEND THAT FUCKING MESSAGE

Breathe. Send. Run away.

Ben sneaks another buñuelo from the pile made by his mother earlier that Christmas morning. The sweet, spicy kick of the cinnamon sugar with the fried dough lifts his spirits - as does the sight of his three niblings side by side on the couch, engrossed in a game on Dylan and Carlos’s Nintendo Switch. A twin sits on either side of their youngest cousin, Julia - Jules to all - and helps her manoeuvre the controller and work her way through the game.

Newly-turned seven, and the daughter of Teresa Morales and her Irish husband Pádraig, Jules might be the youngest in the family but is a tiny force of nature. Though he didn’t have favourites among the three, Ben had a special connection with Jules, who routinely mailed him letters and drawings every couple of weeks. He would diligently respond with a hand-written letter, usually enclosing a couple of packs of stickers or a new book for her to read.

“I’M BORED NOW.” Jules hops off the couch and saunters over to her tío Ben, who’s sitting at the table in the dining room off Luce and TJ’s living room. “Can I have a buñuelo?” 

He brushes cinnamon sugar out of his moustache and off his dark red sweater, and looks over at his sister, who rolls her eyes and nods in resignation. “Your mom says yes, so…” He holds out the plate. 

Jules scrunches her nose up in delight as she takes a bite, then cocks her head as she studies her uncle. “I think you might be sad.”

This is a perceptive kid, Ben thinks. 

“I’m okay, Jules. Just a little tired.”

She chews another bite of her snack and shakes her head. “No. I think you’re sad. I can make you happy, though!” She makes a serious face. “Wait here, okay?”

She returns carrying a bundle of brightly-coloured hair clips and what looks suspiciously like a couple of bottles of nail polish. 

“Mama always says she feels happier when she gets her hair done. And has her pretty nails.” 

The little girl perches herself on a chair, sets out her equipment, and gets to work, tongue peeking out as she concentrates on painting Ben’s nails (she adds a glittery topcoat for extra effect) and carefully placing hair clips in his hair. 

“Everyone, tell tío he looks pretty!”

The rest of the extended Morales clan turn to look at Ben. Dylan and Carlos immediately grab their phones to take photos. TJ raises his eyebrows and nods approvingly. 

“That makeover stays put for the rest of the day, Ben.” Teresa is deadly serious, not wanting her little girl to see her handiwork undone. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Thank you, Jules. I feel much better.”

You allow yourself a glance at your phone later that evening, a glass of champagne lending you some extra courage.

Still nothing.

You cast a glance at the contents of the little gift box Ben had left for you before leaving Barrow. A beautiful, dark red notebook, subtly personalised with your initials in embossed lettering - and a set of Nouvelle Vague-themed film button badges.

“Stupendous as always, Luce!” 

Ben and TJ carry stacks of empty dinner plates into the kitchen, the family well-fed and content after their Christmas meal of beef and a seemingly endless selection of side dishes. 

Lucy is preparing dessert, which mostly consists of the cakes and cookies left over at Pun in the Oven when they closed for the holiday the day before, served with ice cream and fresh fruit.

“Your mom did a lot of the work, guys. Can’t take all the credit. Hey, TJ, can you carry this cake stand in with you? Thanks, babe.”

She notices that Ben has a somewhat wistful expression on his face as he sorts out the dirty dishes.

“Hey, I just wanted to say - I asked TJ if he knew what was going on with you, and…”

Ben nods and smiles. “He told you.”

“I’m with him, Benjamin. From what you told TJ, I think this is worth fighting for. Or at least, it’s worth giving her a chance to explain properly.” 

He casts his gaze downwards. “You know, when I saw those photos the boys took of my ‘makeover’, the first thing that popped into my mind was ‘I better send these to Lyd’.”

“You miss her.” Luce pats him on the back. “So why don’t you? Send them, I mean.”

Ben turns to her in astonishment. “Seriously? We said we were giving each other space, time… and I’m still not sure what she wants.”

His sister-in-law rolls her eyes. “If you don’t send her a happy holidays message with one of those pictures - I will. And you know I don’t fuck around.”

He stands with one hand on his hip, bringing the other up to cover his face. “I know you don’t. Shit. Okay. I’ll do it. But only so you - or worse, TJ - don’t.”

Luce does a tiny dance for joy as Ben turns to leave. She spots - and recognises - a baby pink no-crease hair clip sticking out of his dark hair at the back of his head.

“JULES, have you been in our room??”

Ben settles himself at the desk in his brother’s home office, where he’d deliberately left his phone all day. He’s still not convinced that Luce is right about sending this, but she’s a woman of her word. 

He holds your gift to him, unopened, in his hands. He unwraps it quickly.

A pair of brightly-coloured socks, patterned with books and pens. And a soft, hand-knitted, merino watchcap in a Prussian blue, with a little tag stitched inside: Hand Knitted by Me.

He didn’t expect your name to be there, waiting for him, when he turned over his phone.

You had chosen a slightly chaotic photo of yourself that your brother-in-law had taken, of Cora bopping you in the face while trying to stick a huge bow on you. It would at least, you hoped, make him smile.

Happy Christmas, Ben. I was injured in a gifting incident earlier today. - L.

He selects a photo of himself showing off his painted nails, his hair festooned with coloured clips, while Jules beams in the background at her handiwork.

Merry Christmas, Lyd. I got a holiday makeover courtesy of Jules. - B.

You each hope that the other will somehow be able to read, in the gaps, the words left invisible:

I’m so sorry.

I don’t know why you did it.

I care so much about you.

I really miss you.

I think about you all the time.

I want you.

(bookshelf divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more; other dividers by @cafekitsune)

Further A/N: TJ's 'Your girl's lovely, Hubbell' is, of course, a reference to The Way We Were.

[artemiseamoon]

Preview: A light at the end of the tunnel

Ezra x ofc , ft Cee

Words: 3,140

December entry for Artes’s Year of Whump ( and fluff) @yearofcreation2023

Summary: As Ezra struggles post recovery, Cee plays cupid and finds his lost love.

Warnings: recovery, depression, loss of a limb

An: This is the official end of Arte’s Year of Whump. It was so fun, thank you yearofcreation! I know I missed some months, but glad I could close out December. I love this story so much, it’s open for later expansion. More notes at the end…

Preview below, read in full on A03 (account holders)

Sunlight peeked through the curtains, sending rays of light across the bedroom. This might be the first time he’s woken up before sunset in weeks.

His eyes settled on his new arm. It was still a strange feeling, having a robotic limb. But it did provide a small comfort as the loss of his arm, on top of everything else, sent him into the darkest place he’d been in years. Ezra told himself, he didn’t need a replacement, he would learn his way with one arm, and be just fine. He’s a man who weathered many storms. But he found his phantom arm haunted him. His mood, his self-esteem, and his sense of purpose all plummeted.

Ezra sat up with a groan and followed the scar on his torso with his eyes. Sometimes he could still feel that jab, sometimes he woke up in a sweat thinking it was happening all over again. He’s endured worse, he’s gone toe to toe with no hesitation with some of the meanest, more dangerous men and beasts one could face. Still, the events on the Green haunted him the most. Sometimes he could still hear that disturbing music in his ears.

Ezra died twice on that noxious moon; when he lost his arm, and when he was stabbed. But he was revived too. Cee, bless her heart, dragged back some version of him to civilization, a shell of him he didn’t recognize. The price of that job was the highest he’s ever paid; one he was still paying for now.

Ezra coughed as he rummaged the surface of the nearby table, then he found it, the recent letter from Cee.

Keep reading on A03

No tags

A03: Artemiseamoon (u need an account to read my work)

@artemiseamoon-updates

More Ezra

✨✨✨

About this year long challenge:

Works from this challenge that have more to come:

1. Is this how it ends? Turned into a full fic, we are on chapter 4 or 5 now and it's ongoing.(TF, dark Santi, ofc)

2. Dial up the Jack, Dim the Whiskey will have a part two. (Agent Whiskey, ofc)

3. The thing about second chances will have a part two.

Stay tuned by subscribing to those fics.

[whiskeynwriting]

8/14 Update

Hi my lovelies!!

So… sad news, I ain’t got shit for y’all tonight. I worked 50 hours last week and life has just been so busy. However, I am working on…

• MBFD Chapter 13

• Red String Chapter 14

• “Affection” - Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones”

• “A Different Kind of Love” - Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

• “Better Off in My Hands” - König x Female Reader

I’ll get some pieces out I promise, just takes time 😌🤲🏻♥️

As always, I love every single one of you 💋

[nekoannie-chan]

Week 5 Reblog Masterlist

Welcome to Week 5 2023 or Week 161, as always, fics would be listed in the order I read them.

I hope you enjoy it!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

♥ You can check my reading guidelines here.

♥ You can check my masterlist here.

♥ You can check my main reblog masterlist 2023 here.

♥ You can check my January reblog masterlist 2023 here.

♥ You can check my February reblog masterlist 2023 here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

𝙺𝚎𝚢𝚜: 💛 ᵒʳᶤᵍᶤᶰᵃˡ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ 💜 ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ 🖤 ᵈᵃʳᵏ ❤️ ˢᵐᵘᵗ 💚 ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ 💙 ᵃᶰᵍˢᵗ

🧡 ᶜᵒᵐᵉᵈʸ

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

This is the list of the fics I read and recommend in Week 5 2023:

 America’s hope part I (Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader; Dark! Bucky X OFC, Dark!Tony Stark X OFC; Dark! Bucky X Reader x Dark! Tony) by @ironlady1993​ 🖤❤️

Where you lead chapter II (Reader, Crossover) by @ghostlytyrantpeach​ 💚

My saviour chapter 39: What’s wrong with you, Brock? (Brock Rumlow X Reader) by @talia-rumlow​ 🖤❤️💚💙

Ride part I: I’ve got a war in my mind (Brock Rumlow X Reader, Bucky Barnes X Reader) by @volklana​ 💚💙

John Lowe – NSFW Alphabet (John Lowe) by @agent-whiskeys-sweetheart​❤️

The wedding guest (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @oliverwxod​ 💚💙

My brother’s best friend chapter 10: Truth or dare! (Brock Rumlow X Reader) by @talia-rumlow​ ❤️💚💙

Ride part II: I don’t care ‘bout anything but you (Brock Rumlow X Reader, Bucky Barnes X Reader) by @volklana​ 💚💙

No good deed (Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader) by @americasass81​ 🖤❤️

Book worm (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @jewels2876​ 💚

Bound & Brockened chapter 4: Play! (Dak!Brock Rumlow X Reader) by @talia-rumlow​ 🖤❤️

Steve’s birthday (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @anotherfuckingmarvelfanaccount​❤️

Yes to heaven (Ransom Drysdale X Housekeeper!Reader) by @sinner-as-saint​ ❤️

Reverberation of your incompetence (Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader) by @infernal-fire​🖤❤️

Ride part III: You can take my breath away (Brock Rumlow X Reader, Bucky Barnes X Reader) by @volklana​ 💚💙

Escort to the multiverse chapter II: Can you fuck her or not?! (Brock Rumlow X Reader) by @talia-rumlow​ 🖤❤️💚💙

Meteorokinesis part I (Lorna Dane X Reader) by @marvel-wlw​ 💚💙

Like a knife (Michael Morbius X Reader) by @fairytailwzard​💙

Chivalry isn’t dead part XII (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @eternal-sunshine00​💙

No more mutants (Ororo Munroe X Reader X Jean Grey) by @gaylorvader​ 💚

Janet van Dyne headcanons (Janet van Dyne X Reader) by @daisy4chain​ 💚

Reality (Thunderblink) by @thoughtsfromaclutteredbrain​💚

Meteorokinesis part II (Lorna Dane X Reader) by @marvel-wlw​ 💚💙

Chivalry isn’t dead part XIII (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @eternal-sunshine00​💙

First kiss (Michael Morbius X Reader) by @may85​ 💚

Run (Kayoko X Mituko) by @battle-royale-fanfic-blog​ 💜

Chivalry isn’t dead part XIV (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @eternal-sunshine00​💙

America’s hope part II (Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader; Dark! Bucky X OFC, Dark!Tony Stark X OFC; Dark! Bucky X Reader x Dark! Tony) by @ironlady1993​ 🖤❤️

[whiskeynwriting]

Thank you for tagging me b 🥹🥰 I have a few upcoming pieces that I'm really excited about 😊

Affection - Simon "Ghost" Riley and OFC "Bones"

Better Off In My Hands - König x female reader

Devotion - Agent Daddy Whiskey x female reader

No pressure tags ❤️

@ezrasbirdie @just-here-for-the-moment @kteague @lovesbiggerthanpride @radiowallet @storiesforallfandoms @toomanystoriessolittletime

Thanks @souliebird @mattmurdocksstarlight and @yarrystyleeza for the tag!

Rules: reveal the titles of the documents in your WIP folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

Snapped

Fratt Ch. 3

Back From The Dead Epilogue

Desire

And thats it right now.

Np tags: @freelancearsonist @itwasthereaminuteago @shakespeareanwannabe @munsonownsmyass