#also I left it a little late in the game to find out what piece might be appropriate for them to be playing

[dingoat]

Phew! I've had this piece bouncing around in my head all month and finally got it out; the Cortes Trio for @painted-bees who I was stoked to find on Art Fight! I've loved watching these three get developed and strike so many chords (hehe) with so many people. Less of an attack and more of a 'thanks for putting your creative joy fearlessly into the world'.

[blacktabbygames]

Slay the Princess Concept Art

We shared a bunch of concept art on Twitter today. Sharing it here, too, where you can find it all in one post. Post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution (or just play the game already if you haven't 😉)

Going to start with the first piece of concept art Abby drew for the game.

In the earliest stages of development, we toyed around with the concept of there being multiple "end game" forms of the Princess.

The initial outline, rather than being tied together by an overarching metanarrative, structured a full playthrough as a 5-6 chapter long, self-contained journey down a single route, determined by your decisions in chapter 1. Here's an alternative late-game form:

The idea of deviating end-game forms didn't lost for very long, though. As we explored the game's themes more deeply, it made the most sense for there to be a singular "true" form.

If your reality is shaped by subjectivity and perception, then the "truth" has to be what's left when that subjectivity is swept away. the Shifting Mound's final design feels like that initial truth for the Princess, though there's also another truth if you push back against her and press on into the final cabin.

We really liked this "void" design, and I played around with the idea of it being an intermediary to the final form. The "void" Princess would be what you saw upon encountering the final Princess without understanding your own truth, but once you had that understanding, you would see her as the Shifting Mound, as depicted in the game.

That gave way to the intermediary design of the SM being a sea of disembodied limbs, and we also took parts of both designs and incorporated them into the protagonist (particularly the wings.) You can see the eyes and feathers for this void form in the ending card of the original trailer below:

You can see extremely early concept art for the spectre (top), nightmare (top-right), stranger (left), beast (bottom) and ??? (right) as well!

The eyes became a motif in the Nightmare route (Paranoid's manifestation of the fear of being watched), but I also like to think of them as a part of The Long Quiet's truth. You are space and emptiness, but you're also that which observes those things, and it's your perceptions that give the Shifting Mound shape.

Anyways, on the note of the original original concepts for the game, the Princess was initially going to remain human for several loops before taking on more monstrous forms. Some concepts of that are below. Had to get Abby to tone down some of the more horrifically cartoonish designs because they creeped me out and I didn't want to romance them in a video game.

We had to hold our cards close to our chest in the non-metanarrative early drafts, which is part of why, even in the first demo, the cabin doesn't really change much in chapter 2. More room to subtly play with the concept of transformation over time.

There were a lot of reasons we moved in a different direction for the full release. The branching was unmanageably large to write, and the game felt like a slog to write.

Using an overarching narrative as a framing mechanism in the final version gave us a lot more freedom to explore wildly divergent ideas within routes while still driving the player towards the originally planned finale.

Anyways, now we've got some concept art for individual princesses. There's a lot more than this lying around somewhere, but it's all in sketchbooks, and we'll probably wait until we make an art book to show it off.

First is the tower, who really didn't change much at all. (She got a little thicker, I guess. All of the Princesses did)

Not a lot to say about her, other than the fact that we knew we wanted a set piece where she gets so big that the trees and cabin orbit around her.

The stranger went through many many redesigns over the course of development. Here, she was a "princess skin" filled with a hive of sentient bugs. The script wasn't working for me, though, so instead she became a peak behind the curtains without the necessary context to know her.

A lot of people ask how these earlier drafts of the Stranger route would have played out, and the answer is I can't tell you, because I couldn't figure out something worth writing.

The writing process for individual routes didn't really start with outlines or plot beats. Rather, the routes started from a theme and a relationship dynamic, and I organically found their outcomes by exploring actions within those themes, and then seeing if those passed Abby's editor brain.

Neither of us found actions we wanted to explore with those versions of the Stranger, at least actions that weren't a beat-by-beat retelling of chapter 1, which contained way too much variation to put on a single chapter 2 route.

If each princess examines a relationship formed by perception and first impressions, the Stranger examines one that's fundamentally unknowable. One where you've seen too much, too quickly.

An insect hive-mind pretending to be a person seemed like a good starting point, but it was too difficult to write any interactions that didn't immediately feel knowable, if still strange. So the final version of the Stranger was designed in such a way where her unknowability makes interacting with her on a human level fundamentally impossible, and you don't get to have a real conversation with her unless you satisfy extremely specific criteria.

Anyways next up is the razor's final form. We decided she needed more swords.

Hearts became an accidental motif very quickly in the development process, too. (The fact that it is only strikes to the heart that fell her in the demo was accidental, but it felt poetic so we extended it to the rest of the game.)

So on top of adding more swords, we made her heart visible. This is something we did with the fury as well, as a way of showing their emotional (and physical) vulnerability.

Here's an early version of the Adversary and what would eventually become the Eye of the Needle, back when she was still called the Fury. Originally her hair was going to be fire (as seen on the right), but it didn't feel right in its execution.

She's hit the gym since this concept art. Good for her :)

And we're going to end with the Beast, who at this point was called the Adversary. I think this was before the Witch was added? The Beast was originally designed to be a Questing Beast who lurked in the shadows, where you'd only see glimpses of her, and where each glimpse would make her appear to be a different animal. This was too difficult to execute, though we gave her a more chimera-like appearance in the final game.

This design was from when we still has the Voice of the Obsessed, and the route was going to be a more feral mirror of what eventually became the Adversary, but it felt too thematically similar while being less interesting, so we moved in the direction of making the Beast about consumption as a form of love.

Anyways, that's all we've got for you right now. Hope this was fun!

[burningembers91]

Gunpowder and Lace - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature On Display A Game of Cat and Mouse Crime of Passion Rare

Synopsis: Determined to level the playing field, you take The Salesman to places he's never been

A/N: I honestly don't know who i become when i write for this man, this piece is unhinged and i regret nothing. I also know this character never has his real name revealed, but for the purposes of the storyline, I had to make one up.

This fic is also inspired by the insanity that is this gif:

He was desperate to be back in control. That night in the restaurant had taken him by surprise, had left his mind reeling. You’d left him lying there on the floor like yesterday’s trash, saying goodbye without a second glance back at him. You’d humiliated him, left him to clean himself up and hastily pay the bill before he was found naked on the floor, shaking from pleasure and rage. No one had treated him like this before, no had ever been this bold before. The women he’d played with in the past, they’d always been scared him; but not you. You seemed to enjoy this torture, seemed to enjoy being pushed. He was sure the meal would break you, but it only seemed to make you stronger.

He was so desperate to regain control that he almost didn’t notice that he was losing it entirely. He’d never invited anyone to his home before, and the day after your meal together he turned up at your apartment to bring you over. He’d tried to convince himself that it would be easier to have you under his control if he had you somewhere he was familiar with, but he was fooling himself. He’d given up sitting out on the park bench now, his desire to be with you far outweighing his desire to watch you like a predator watches its prey. You no longer went to the coffee shop either, instead marking your student’s work at his home. He had tried to convince himself that it was another way to keep you in line, to keep you away from a world where you could wonder away from him at any time. But you seemed to enjoy being in his home, stretched out on his sofa as your worked, acting as if he didn’t exist. He wanted to be angry with you, but he couldn’t. He wondered if he was somehow broken. The aloofness he had once possessed was gone around you. He found himself seeking your attention, trying to distract you while you worked. But you never rose to the bait, never gave him the satisfaction he so desperately craved. One evening, as you worked late into the night on a presentation, he’d grown tired of waiting for you.

“I’m busy,” you told him, when he came searching for your touch. Your words felt like a slap, a punch in his gut that left him floored. “You’re getting awfully mouthy with me,” he snapped back. He could feel himself losing him cool; why weren’t you scared of him? Why were you so unfazed by him? Was he losing his touch? Perhaps he wasn’t enough for you anymore. That last thought scared him, and he wasn’t used to being scared. He ended up on his knees in front of you, his tongue lapping desperate circles around the sensitive nub of your clit. The moans he elicited from you were heavenly, his fingers working your soft, tight core. Your thighs tightened around his face as you came, your cries of pleasure echoing off his expansive walls. He was sure he’d got your attention, was sure you wouldn’t be able to resist him, but you went right back to your work, leaving him on his knees like a dog.

You knew exactly what you were doing, of course. You didn’t like acting so cold towards him, but you were tired of knowing nothing about him when he knew so much about you. You were intrigued, if a little shocked, when he invited you into his home but could find nothing that would give you any clue as to who this man was. You could feel your lust turning into something more, but you didn’t even know his name, and it was beginning to drive you crazy. You decided to try and beat him at his own game, to try and push him like he pushed you. You hadn’t entirely forgiven him for the steak incident; you’d been sick for days after, but something kept you coming back. You recognised the feelings you were beginning to have for him, but you couldn’t fully allow yourself to break down the walls. All relationships needed an equal amount of giving and taking though, and it was time he learned that.

“Tell me your name,” you whispered one night, your nails dragging down his chest and torso as he writhed against his mattress. You’d bested him again, beaten him at his own game. What had started as a desire to show you that he was still in charge, had ended up with him handcuffed to his bed while you delivered the most delicious punishments. Your tongue, lips and teeth explored his body, your silk negligee brushing against his flushed skin. The mix of silk, soft kisses and sharp teeth were agonisingly blissful, and he found himself slipping further and further into your grip. “Just tell me your name,” you repeated, “and I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

What was it that he wanted though? This whole thing had started as a game for him, just another girl he could use to entertain himself until he ultimately got bored of you. But somewhere along the line, it had gone horribly wrong. He wasn’t bored of you, far from it. He craved your attention, your validation. Your hands skimmed his lower stomach, purposely avoiding his stiff, leaking cock. He whimpered, a sound he’d never made before, and he knew in that instant he was done for.

“Let’s try something else then, shall we?” You smiled. You’d get him to tell you his name, consequences be damned. You knew that once he’d recovered, once he’d regained his usual controlling façade that you’d pay for this. You didn’t mind though; you’d take whatever punishment he dolled out if he would just tell you his name.

You knew he kept a gun in his bedside table, had seen the flsh of the black metal as he opened it one night. You’d grown up clay pigeon shooting as a child and teen, and a handgun couldn’t be that different from a rifle, could it? You’d removed the bullets while he’d been in the bathroom, setting the gun back carefully in its place. He didn’t need know you’d taken them out, but you couldn’t help but feel that accidentally firing it might spoil the fun a little.

Pulling the drawer open, you carefully removed the gun, the weapon heavy and cold in your hand. You saw his eyes light up, heard the guttural growl fall from his lips as he pulled at his restraints. His chest rose and fell heavily, his body shaking with anticipation. He was enjoying this.

You dragged the barrel of the gun slowly up his leg, his stomach, and across his chest. “Open your mouth,” you instructed. He did as he was told, so eager. You slid the gun slowly into his mouth, relishing in the pathetic little whimpers that fell from him. Your free hand trailed back down his stomach, before coming to a stop at the base of his cock. A single nail dragged up its length, your eyes never leaving his as he squirmed against your touch. “Tell me,” you repeated, tutting when he shook his head. Your hand gripped the base of him, working his shaft slowly and deliberately, watching his reaction as he neared the brink. Just when you felt him start to shake, just before he reached the edge of ecstasy, you pulled you hand away.

He screamed something at you, but you couldn’t tell what it was; the gun muffled his voice. “It’s just your name,” you sighed, “that’s all I want. Give me what I want, and I’ll let you punish me for my disobedience.” Your hand began to stroke him once more, your thumb circling the top of his cock as he pulled against the handcuffs.

He couldn’t take it much more, the desire to fall apart for you was overwhelming, bordering on painful. He’d tell you his bank account details if you asked, anything to get you to give him what he needed. “Park Jin-Tae!” he cried, his words muffled by the cold metal in this mouth. “What was that?” you smiled, removing the gun enough so he could speak clearly. “Park Jin-Tae,” he repeated. “My name is Park Jin-Tae.” “Good boy,” you winked. He’d told you what you wanted to know; you wouldn’t tease him any longer. You placed the gun back on the bedside table, lowering your mouth to his aching cock. You’d barely placed your lips around him before he emitted a strangled cry, losing himself completely as he spilled his seed down your throat.

He’d given you a piece of himself, a part of him that he had kept hidden from the world for longer than he could remember. As you unhandcuffed him and kissed him tenderly on his lips, he so badly wanted to be angry with you. But as he looked into your eyes, his chest ached in the most beautiful way possible. His heart raced, his stomach flipped, he craved your touch, your skin against his. He knew in that moment he’d lost the game. He wasn’t in control anymore, you were. Maybe you had been the whole time. He’d spent his entire life feeling nothing for anyone, treating people as toys he could play with and throw away. But from the moment he met you, his body had ached for you, every atom of his being craved you. He was a fool to think he’d ever been in charge.

“Park Jin-Tae,” you smiled, kneeling before him with your hands behind your back. “I’ll let you punish me now.” You looked so beautiful, so perfect. As he slipped the handcuffs onto your wrists, bending your delicate body over his knee, he brought his hand down against the skin of your ass hard. Your cry of pleasure was irresistible, but tonight he’d make you shed tears.

Yes, he would punish you. Punish you for making him fall in love.

[rafesslxt]

✧.* 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑺𝑵𝑨𝑪𝑲 | 𝒕. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒕

summary: you thought you would be alone when sneaking into the school kitchen late at night - you were, until someone joined you. - based on this request.

warnings: smut, Hufflepuff reader, fingering, orgasm denial (once), dirty talk, protected p in v, cursing

words: 2,8k

It's almost 2am and I couldn't stop myself but sneak into the kitchen when my stomach literally screamed at me to eat. Well I couldn't take it personal, wasn't my best idea to ditch dinner to study.

And to be honest, it wasn't the first time also, sneaking into the kitchen because I ditched dinner and got hungry at night. Since I already knew my way to the school kitchen without getting caught, I grabbed the coat I borrowed from Harry yesterday and walked through the dark halls of school.

When I arrived I quickly got in and closed the doors behind me. I smiled to myself when I looked through the shelves and fridges. Jackpot, a cake. With some cookies from the cupboard and cake in other hand I walked over to the kitchen island and started eating the cookies. I quietly moaned at the taste, doing a little happy dance at the taste. „Damn these are good.“ I say to myself, then looking at the cake. It wasn’t much left but would definitely be enough for me. I took a piece and licked off the icing, when out of nowhere:

„Wow..“ I turned my head to the second voice with wide eyes, seeing four boys in front of me. I sighed in relief when I noticed who they are and had to hide a smile at their looks when they saw my outfit. I didn’t thought too much about it when I stayed in my underwear and a top. „Like what you see?“ I asked them, smug smirk on my face.

The only one who didn’t looked impressed was Draco, pushing through the boys and walking over next to me, taking a piece of the cake and shoving it into his mouth. „ My girlfriend’s hotter.“ He says with a full mouth, making me grin. „I know Draco, me and Pansy are friends.“ I always loved the way he stayed loyal to her, wishing to be in her shoes sometimes. But not to be with Draco, but to have someone who only has eyes for me like he does for her.

I then glance over to the other three boys, still staring at me. "I definitely like what I see." Mattheo comments with a grin to it. I notice Theo shoving his elbow into his rib before pushing past him and walking over to me. "How are you, principessa?" he asked, tilting his head a little to the side and stared down at me with his puppy brown eyes. God his eyes.

" 'm good, what about you?" I stated innocently then biting off a piece of the cake slice in my hand. He ignored my question, his hands finding their way to each side of me on the kitchen isle. He caged me in between his body and the isle, smirking a little when he see's the realization in my eyes.

That wasn't a new game between us. It's also not the first time that we met here or on the astronomy tower at night. But it was always coincidence.

"Haven't seen you in a while at the astronomy tower." he whispers to me, lowering his head a little. So he was hoping to see me? "What? Did you miss me?" "What If I did?" he asked.

I hadn't had an answer to that right away so I looked over his shoulder to Mattheo and Enzo, still staring at my choice of clothing. He follows my gaze and glares at both of them. "Get the fuck out." he growls at them in an annoyed tone to which they just smirked knowingly and grabbed Draco eating some pudding he had found.

While walking outside Mattheo said "Don't destroy the kitchen." Draco finished it with: "Oh and use protection, kids." he started laughing and walked out with Mattheo and Enzo, leaving silence behind them.

I glanced back up at Theo, who's eyes were already on me. "So, what If I missed you? Did you miss me too?" I ignored his question and turned around in his grip which meant my back was now pressed against his since he pushed against me. I grabbed a strawberry from the cake grinning when I turned back and bit off a piece, making sure my lips wrapped around it just right while my eyes hit his.

I could see his jaw clenching and the muscles in his arm moving when he grabbed the isle a little harder. "Why do you keep teasing me all the time hm? Am I just one of your little victims?"

I had to chuckle a little. It was a rumor about me – well, a rumor that was kind of true. It was about how I'm the biggest tease and would always choose a new boy to tease to no end but never doing anything about it. That's true. But the number's of boy's going around weren't. Theo's the third to be exact but this time it wasn't on propose. I just really liked teasing him and seeing him clenching his jaw or his eyes wandering over my body, my lips.

I shake my head slowly and hold the rest of the strawberry in front of his mouth. "You're not." He grins before biting into the strawberry, never losing eye contact with me. He chews and swallows it down before answering. "What am I then?"

'What am I then?' I wish I knew. It's complicated. And somehow not. We just met like I said by complete coincidence, sometimes we talked, sometimes we just sat there at the astronomy tower and enjoyed each other's company while he smoked and I read a book.

"I don't know Teddy, just know that I like your company." I answered honestly. I think I saw a little bit of relief in his eyes when I told him. "So you're not just teasing me?" I giggle a little and shrug with my shoulder's. "Oh I definitely do and I enjoy it but -" "But what?" he asks, looking at me intensely. I gulp and lick over my bottom lip, my cheeks suddenly getting a little red.

"Perhaps, you chose that outfit of your's on propose?" he asked cheekily. I rolled my eyes at him and shook my head. "I didn't thought you would come with friends. And I have Harry's cloak with me so no one would have seen me but you."

"So you did choose it with a purpose?" I put the stem in my hand away and tried not to blush again. "Yes." He pushed himself even closer to me now, his face now beside my ear. He whispered "And what were you hoping would happen, amore?" my heart always melted when he spoke Italian, his voice sounded so good while speaking his language, I could listen to him talking to me in it all day long.

I swallowed down all my pride and the rest of my shyness before I answered. "That you finally would get the hint, maybe. Or ask me out." he started grinning, giving my earshell a soft kiss. " Oh I'm getting the hint." Abruptly he grabbed my hips with both of his hands and sat me down on the kitchen isle, him now standing between my legs. "Do you know what you do to me?" he lowers his voice and lets go of my right to push back my hair so my shoulders were free. I shook my head, pretending to not know what he means.

"Don't act all shy now. I know you're not. I see the way you always look a me. Never thought a little Hufflepuff like you would be like that."

„Well, many underestimate us.“ I whispered, smirking. Then he lowers his head a bit more and puts a feathery light kiss on my shoulder, sending shivers down my spine. I stop breathing for a second and take a short glimpse of his angelic face. Even his light touch already set me on fire inside.

He continued when he noticed that I didn't push him away or stopped him in any kind of way. The next kiss is tender, not as light as the first one. The third one is longing. The fourth starts to get heated. "Theo.." I murmur, closing my eyes.

"Hm?" he muttered against my skin, covering it in kisses. "I want you." He stops and scans my face to make sure If I'm playing with him or If I'm being serious. I grab the cords of his sweatpants, pulling him closer. "I want you." I repeat, to make sure he got it.

Then out of no where, his lips crash against mine in a heated kiss with his lips so soft and full. I let my hand roam over his chest, grabbing the soft shirt in a desperate way. "I want you too." he breathed out against my lips when he pulled away from mine for a moment. I grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in again, smiling against his lips.

His hands found their way to my thighs, massaging them carefully while working their way up to my underwear. In the meantime my hands had already slid under his shirt, feeling his abs under my fingers.

One hand of his pushed me back so I laid down with my back on the kitchen isle. He grabbed my legs again and pulled my middle closer to his crotch until I could feel him hard through his pants.

I bit down on my lip when his hands slowly slid over my exposed stomach, up to my chest. I stare at him, nervous what he's going to do. "I've waited so fucking long for this." he growls, slowly pulling down my top. A smile formed on his lips when he saw I didn't wear a bra beneath it.

My nipples instantly got hard 'cause of the cold air. "Then why didn't you try anything sooner?" I asked. "Don't know.." His fingers slowly brushed over my nipples now, teasing them. ".. I enjoyed the tension between us. Didn't want to overstep too." he replied.

I chuckled at him and joked "Yeah right, fucking someone on a kitchen isle in school is not overstepping." "Who say's I'm gonna fuck you?" he teases, playing with my nipples now.

I gulped and glimpse up at him. "Theo please.." I buck my hips up, grinding against him. "Shit, you're already begging, principessa? Can't wait to see how wet you are." I quietly whimpered at his words, grinding harder against him to feel some kind of friction on my aching pussy.

He leans down and starts sucking on my nipple while he continued playing with the other with his fingers. His second hand slid down over my stomach again, leaving a warm feeling behind. It stopped at my panties, playing with it a little. "Please.. please touch me Teddy." He groaned at the nickname. It was something only I called him.

He dipped his fingers inside my underwear, feeling my wetness. "Fuck you're not wet you're fucking soaked. It's gonna be so easy to just.." he starts, his finger slipping over my clit at first and teasing it for a moment with brushing over it ever so slightly and then going further to my opening, slipping two fingers inside without a problem.

He groaned and rolled his eyes. "You feel so tight baby. Fuck you're gonna milk me dry.." I whined at his words and the feeling of him inside me. He started moving them in and out, pumping my pussy and rubbing my clit with his thumb.

I grabbed the edges of the isle and closed my eyes, back arching upwards. "Feels so good." I moaned, pressing my lips together trying to be quiet.

"Hmm that‘s right, just imagine how good my cock will feel." he responded with a smug look, moving his fingers inside me faster and putting more pressure on my clit. I took in a sharp breath, biting down on my lip hard.

I started clenching around him, feeling a fire pooling low in my abdonen but before I could let go he pulled his hand away from me, smiling at me devilish. "That‘s for all the teasing, baby."

He pulled down his sweatpants and boxershorts together, revealing his hard cock. I noticed the red tip already leaking pre cum. "You wanna get fucked amore?" he growls with his thick accent while grabbing his hard on and sliding the tip through my puffy folds.

"Theodore please, don‘t be a tease." I complained. He chuckles when he sees the desperate look in my eyes. "I‘m gonna fuck you so hard you never will think about someone else.“ he promised, pushing his cock into me with a single go until he was completely inside me.

"Oh cazzo.." he cursed and closed his eyes when he felt my walls sucking him right in. I felt him everywhere in me and I was sure I could see him in my stomach If I had the power to look down at me.

I heard him laughing quietly so I opened my eyes and looked at him questioning. "You‘re so tight I can‘t think straight." he chuckled and let out a deep breath before moving his hips after making sure I‘m ready.

I arched my back when his hips met mine and my mouth fell open letting out a silent scream. "Oh merda.. feel me in your stomach huh?" he grunts, throwing my legs over his shoulder.

I let out a high pitched moan at the new angle, feeling him so much deeper now. My nails found his arms, leaving marks on them. His hips moved faster against mine, he leaned down and took my lips into a heated kiss again. The kiss was fiercy and it felt like he was starving or needed me for air. I've never been kissed like that and I felt so alive after such a long time again.

"Fuck Theodore.." I whine against his lips, capturing them right after again. I feel him grinning against my lips and moving his hips more brutal against mine, squeezing my thigh with his hand while the other found its way around my neck. "You're mine, cara mia. Mine. Do you understand that?" he groans, letting go of my mouth.

I squeeze my eyes shut when he pushed down on my stomach." I said: Do thrust You thrust under thrust stand thrust me?" "Fuck yes Theo, yes!" "Say it!" I whimper and open my eyes again, giving him what he wanted. "I'm yours, only yours." he started smiling satisfied with my answer.

"That's right, baby. Only this cock will fill you up." He rocked his hips against mine in an unnatural pace, making me see stars and babbling some words.

"Such a little slut for me." he added. My legs slowly got tired, not used to the stretch. I gasped when he hit my cervix, a broken sob left my mouth. "Oh - right there. Please fuck me right there." It was like every brain cell left my head when I felt that fire in my abdomen again.

He slightly squeezed his hand around my throat, making my head feel dizzy only adding to the aching feeling inside me. "Beg me, fucking beg me to come around my cock... fuck." he lets out a moan when he feels my warm walls clenching around him so perfectly.

"Hmm please Theo please fuck me, please. I need to come so bad." I cried out, little sobs leaving my lips. He grins devilish and adds his thumb to my clit, moving it in circles.

Then again I have that rippling feeling in my abdomen, leaving me trembling beneath me. "Hm, come for me baby, fucking come around me, please." he groans in a desperate voice, feeling the need to feel me milking him like I did around his fingers earlier.

My orgasm hit me like an explosion would have. I didn't hear anything around me for a few seconds, my head dizzy and my mouth dry.

His hands find my hips and dug their fingernails into my flesh. I heard him cussing again, his thrusts getting sloppier and his head fell back. "Oh fucking hell I'm gonna come - should I - should I pull out?" I shook my head with a little smirk."I'm using-" "Thank Merlin - ugh fuck." I hear him gasping for air when he ruts his hips against mine, holding still when he shoots his load inside me. His fucked out state turned me on again in an instant. Nothing better than a vocal man.

When he slowly comes down from his high, he grabs my face and kisses me messy but lovingly. "You felt so fucking good." he groans against my lips, slowly pulling out. I let out a quiet whimper at the emptiness I felt again. I looked up at him a smirked. "What?" he asked me when he saw my smirk. "That's it?" I asked him daring, knowing it would provoke him.

He chuckles darkly at me and turned my on my stomach in an instant. "I'm gonna fuck you the whole night, until all the cooks come into the kitchen for breakfast and they see you begging for my cock."

Fuck yeah.

Thank u got reading, hope you enjoyed. 💛 Not my best smut to be honest whoops.

Taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @sofa-couch26 @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @itsarajr @hisparentsgallerryy @mixvchelle @azalea3leaza @ummmmmmm-username @atadoddinnit @auxcordlawd @helena-1105 @belle-blue @izriddle @distinctalien 🤍🤍

My masterlist if u wanna read more.

xoxo sarah <3

[angelfrombeneth]

MAGICAL DRYING DISASTER - T . NOTT

Mature Content Ahead

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: After waking up late and discovering you left your washing in the machine over night. You had no other choice to use magic to dry it - except it did dry but also shrunk, massively, in the process. Once Theo finds you let's just say he manages to keep it kept in till the common room. Then it's all fair game from there.

Warnings: SMUT, No Protection - PIV, Theodore is a munch - Fem Oral, Body Worship, Smidge of SubWhiney!Theo, Cursing

A/N: This is my first one-shot fic I've posted in a long time but also my first one EVER on tumblr. I used to write on wattpad and ao3 but took a very long hiatus. So excuse if my smut writing is a bit off or any spelling mistakes I currently have acrylics on - its quite hard to type.

Click Clack.. Click Clack...

You ran towards your class quickly, pulling town the absolute belt of a skirt you wore today before entering into your potions class. Late.

"Miss Neveah.. Thank you for finally joining us" Snape panned. His face expressionless as he stared at you. A slight hint of disapproval in his face.

"I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again!" You scurried to your seat beside Pansy.

"It most definitely will not" He groaned before turning back to the chalk board to continue his explanation.

You shimmied on your seat, pulling as much skirt down as you could. Practically flashing those behind you of your bright red thong and gorgeously placed star tramp stamp.

Nice touch is what you thought when you got it a few months ago after a night out in the muggle clubs with Pansy. She persuaded you and said Theo would love it. Or which he did.

"Y/N.. your skirt is practically a belt. Trying to flash us all?" She whispered, giggling as he peered down as your legs, absent of any tights aswell.

"Girl.. It shrunk when I tried to use magic to dry it. All my other skirts are dirty" You pouted. "I also couldn't find a pair of fucking tights, I was running so late"

"Its not that bad, just don't bend over if you can" She smiled as she reached to your ponytail tieing in a little green piece of ribbon into a bow. "And don't let Mr Lover boy see you" She snickered.

You sighed, focusing in the rest of your class. Praying not many people noticed. You were pretty daft thinking that. You were already the hot goss. It was only so long till Theo found out.

Though alot of boys in Hogwarts fancied you, they all knew about Theodore Nott swooping in, in 4th year the year before you 'blossomed' as they said. They say he saw the potential and snatched it up while they could.

You walked down the hall, pulling your books to your chest as your red bottoms clipped the wooden floor that spanned the whole school. Many turned your way gawking as you, mostly more than normal due to tour skirt size today.

You weren't a bad girl. You has good grades, you were overly nice to everyone just the people you hung round with were opposite. Many saying you were too nice.

After a quick detour to pick up an extra book from the library you shuffled down the corridor, your heels clicking their signature click against the oak as you walked towards your friends who stood beside your regular post class meeting pillar.

"Sorry I'm late!" You skipped towards them hurriedly. You watched as Theo whipped his head around, his jaw practically dislodging from his face as he stared at you.

Mattheo wolf whistled as he looked you up and down. Smirking as he pushed himself off the wall - "Damn Y/N, I didn't know you had this hiding somewhere"

"Neither did I" Theo's gaze burned through you as he bent his neck to get look at you from behind. Definitely a sight for sore eyes.

"I'm sorry- I fucked up a spell and I was running late I didn't mean to- OUCH! THEO!" you got cut off as he slapped his hand harshly against your ass before gripping a handful as he smirked down at you. The boys laughing at the pair of you.

"As much as I am thoroughly enjoying the sight Bella" He looked down at you, his gaze growing darker by each word that fell from his lips. He leaned in, practically growling in your ear."I don't like to share amore mio"

You gulped at his words as he pulled his jumper off, wrapping it around your waist. Slightly tugging on the fabric jerking you forward into his chest as he smiled down at you before kissing your forehead softly.

"As cute as you two are, everyone's looking. Can we clear out" Pansy groaned.

You snapped back into reality, quietly ushering an apology to the group as Pansy pulled your hand as you both walked hand in hand ahead of the boys.

You heard a smack and an 'ow' turning around quickly as you turned the corner seeing Theo slapping Mattheo across the head. "Flirt with someone else" He groaned. You giggled slightly at his protectiveness.

Once you arrived to the common room everyone scattered to do their own thing. Theo once more approaching you.

"Now..." a cheeky smile appeared on his lips as his hands held your hips softly as he peered down at you. The height difference really getting to you. "I can't stop thinking about that little skirt on you.." His hands slowly moving down and around to the curve of your ass as he nibbled at his lip. "..and how much I want to fuck you in it" He whispered the last part lowly as his tongue poked out and slid across his bottom lip as he squeezed your ass through his jumper.

"Then do it" You caught his gaze, already out of breath from his minimal touch.

It's like that's all he needed to hear. Like without warning and no regards for the fact your friends were just a few steps away bundled in the corner on the coaches - he pulled you tightly, hand on your ass against him as his lips crushed into yours. Needy kisses as if he hasn't kissed you in months.

The sudden rip of his jumper loosening the knot as it dropped to the floor. His hands sliding under the little fabric the skirt had as his nails gripped into the flesh on your ass cheeks. You yelped slightly and he took that as permission to shove his whole tongue down your throat. The kisses grew messier and messier as you both backed up towards the stairs, bumping into everything possible as you both chuckled.

Breaking the kiss as you both removed various pieces of clothing as you scrambled up the stairs. By the time you got to yours and Pansys' room you both had disregarded of practically everything. Theo quickly finishing unzipping his trousers before pushing you into the room, kicking the leg off quickly, flinging his trousers into the centre of the hallway as he shut the door behind him.

You stood infront of him in just your skirt, bra and panties as he ruffled his hair, staring at you like a kid in a candy shop, pondering what you try next.

"DONT WORRY WE'LL CLEAN UP AFTER YOU TWO!" Draco yelled, annoyance plastered in his voice.

That broke Theo out of the trance he was in as he lunged at you, unclipping your bra swiftly as he threw it across the room before pushing you against the bed.

"Fuck, I'm so hard. I can't- I just need to fuck you now" He groaned, biting at his lip anxiously as he stared down at you. "Get on all fours". You obliged and quickly.

You felt the sudden cold breeze against your clit as he tightly yanked on your thong, splitting it apart at he threw it on the floor aswell as he kicked off his boxers.

"Fuck your so hot" He groaned, dropping to his knees as he gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks wide as he licked a nice wet strip up your pussy.

A moan lodged itself in your neck as you bundled up the sheets in your hands as he let out a shaky breath.

"Wanna eat you out so bad, but my cock is throbbing.. Need to treat you well tho" He whined as he spat into his hand as he began to fuck it. His free hand gripping your ass as he dove his tounge deep into you.

You hung your head forward as you let out an exasperated sigh as your toes curled. Theo's tongue worked wonders inside of you. He ate you out like it was dire need. The roughness of his mouth sopping against your pussy as his tongue drilled into your hole. The wetness of both his mouth and your pussy mixing as he moaned against you as he continued to fuck the shit out of his hand. Loud moans rumbled against you as he sucked and twirled like no tomorrow.

You were drawing to your high as you noticed he stopped, pulling away for a moment as he let out a deep growl before a light whimper escaped his lips as he came up the bottom of your bed frame and on the floor. He panted for a moment, light whimpers leaving gis mouth as he toyed with his sensitive dick.

"Fuck- Sorry Principessa. I came, naughty of me to do so before I helped you. I'll make sure you feel extra good" His other hand colliding with your ass again as he dove back in. His nose rubbing harshly against your slit as he flicked his tongue continously against your clit. Sucking and nibbling at it from time to time as he continued to grip and massage at your ass.

The sudden overwhelming feeling drove you over the age as you screeched, yelping as you squirted all over his face. You gasped loudly, crashing to the bed as your legs shook slightly as you panted.

"Mhmm.. Love it when you squirt" You looked at Theo as he wiped the cum from his face, sucking his fingers like a dessert he's got to finish.

"You're so gorgeous, so fucking beautiful.. Beautiful body" He groaned as he slid his hands up your curves, moaning softly as the scene infront of him. "S'lucky.. So fucking lucky.."

He tapped your thigh, as you led on your stomach on the bed, your legs hanging off the end slightly as your tippy toes held against the floor.

"Gunna make you feel so good, amore" he cooed as he lied up his tip with your slit before thrashing it in harshly. You yelped once again at you looked back at him.

"Going to teach you not. to wear. a slut. short. skirt. again. fuck!" He growled with each thrust as your body jerked against his movements. Your body slid up and down the bed as your feet struggled to stay on the floor much longer as he pushed you up the bed.

It wasn't before long till Theo climbed ontop of you, straddling you as he drilled into you. Loud whimpers left you as you clawed at the sheets as you screamed into his duvet.

"FUCK!! ARGH- TEDDY!" you pleaded as your back arched, shoving your ass harder into him as his hands gripped your hips tightly, his nails scatting cresent moons to your flesh as your bodies recoiled against one another.

"Yes! Like that.. fuckkk Teddy more..  please!" You babbled. He reached over grabbing your neck as he pulled your body up against his chest. Your legs trapped between his as he squeezed them shut. His arm tightly against your stomach as he continued to drill up into your pussy. You gasped and whined continously as he groaned and growled into your ear. His grip growing tighter around your neck as he flexed his biceps, his tongue sliding up your jawline to your ear.

"Teddy- I'm gunna cum! Please please please PLEASE! Cum with me!" you whined as your eyes rolled back. The growing feeling in your stomach as his cock continued to thrash into you. You were drunk on the feeling of him buried into you. You tightly shut your thighs together for any ounce more of pressure you could grasp.

"Good girl- M'close" He panted.

Your eyes began to roll back as you gasped for air at the tightening of his arm around your neck. The bursting feeling in your stomach as your whole body recoiled and shook as you screamed like bloody murder with all the air you has left in your lungs as you came.

At that moment Theo threw you down, as your body twitched conthously. He gripped your ass as he thrusted deep before cumming in you. Groaning deeply as he threw his head back. Sweat trickling down his forehead and chest as he panted heavily.

Neither of you moved for a moment to compose yourself. You occasionally twitched at your body recoiled against his dick.

"Fuck me.. So good" Theo pulled out, sighing as he watched cum pool at your slit and began to slide down. You felt his tip against you again as he collected the escaping cum and slightly fucked it back into you. His dick entering you once more as you gasped at the feeling.

"Good girl.. such a good girl.." His light thrusts as he peppered you with kisses all over your back and shoulders.

He gasped slightly as he froze above you. You were about to question him till you felt a slightly release.

"Did you just cum again Teddy?" You giggled as he thrusted once more before pulling out and collapsing next to you.

"Its hard to last with you. You make me so addicted" He smirked, his head turned to look at you. He rested his hand on your ass, squeezing it lightly from time to time.

"I'm glad this skirt shrunk" He chuckled, his smile wide.

You shook your head as you laughed at him. "You're a fool" You shimmied towards him, flicking your leg over his chest as you cuddled into him. His body warm.

He kissed your shoulder softly before softly kissing your cheek, nibbling at your ear before whispering;

"Ti amo amore mio".

If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!

[withahappyrefrain]

FRAT TASM!PETER WITH

“I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard/wet. Wanna hear about it?”

THIS IS SOMETHING THAT COCKY ASSHOLE WOULD SAYYY OH MY GOD

This is how blonde frat Peter returns bless you

Warning: language, frat Peter being a cocky little shit, female reader, I think that's it!

"Hey, you made it after all."

You audbily breathe in through your nose, trying to ignore the fumes of vodka and who knows what else was in this God forsaken jungle juice.

Anything to give you the strength to face Peter Parker.

You turn around to find him leaning against the door, a joint tucked behind his ear, hands in the pocket of his black hoodie, bleached blonde hair somehow perfectly messy.

"Don't get ahead of yourself Parker. I'm only here to support my roommate," you scoff, turning your attention back to the game of beer pong. Not that you were truly interested.

But you couldn't let him know that.

You regret being late to the first day of your Science Diplomacy & World Health class. Had you known it would have left you no choice but to sit next to Peter Parker, you wouldn't have hit the snooze button for your alarm five times.

It wasn't even like you had asked to borrow a pencil from him. He seemed drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.

"Y'know, I feel like I would have remembered a face like yours. You a transfer?" He asked, as if you two weren't in the middle of a lecture.

Thanks to your roommate being in the sorority that paired up with his frat, you had heard all about Peter Parker. The infamous parties. How he dyed his hair blonde at the beginning of sophomore. How he's the biggest flirt that Delta Lambda Phi had.

You didn't even look at him when you responded, "We've been in the same class since freshman year. But I came here to get a degree, not to party."

Ever since that day, he wouldn't leave you alone. At first it started with ridiculously over the top pick up lines.

"Are you made up of copper and tellurium? Because you're cute."

All you could do was roll your eyes at every line, mustering all the strength you had to not smile. You had eyes, the guy was cute. But you also knew his type.

So when he extended a personal invite to the latest frat party, you simply turned him down, like you had for countless of other parties.

Of course, as luck would have it, it was exactly the party your roommate wanted to go to.

You hoped to avoid him, hoped that your roommate would find whoever she was looking for so you could leave.

But it was as if Peter Parker had a sixth sense for you specifically. His inability to find you in libraries, dinning halls, and the university's coffee shop (bc fuck Starbucks) had now extended to frat parties.

"You know Parker, stalking is a serious crime," you scoff, refusing to look at him. The ever present scent of cinnamon alerted you that he was now standing next to you.

"It's not my fault you have a beautiful face that I could pick out from a crowd," He mumbles, a stark contrast to the usual cocky bravada you're used to.

"Excuse me?" Without thinking, you turn to face him, making contact with those big brown eyes.

The corner of his pink lips jerk upwards as he leans in, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. His touch is gentle, something you weren't expecting at all.

"You heard me." The cocky smile had returned, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Hey, don't gimme that. I know you love how cheesy I am."

Unfortunately, it was true. He was never crude and it somehow sounded genuine, despite being accompanied by a worn snapback.

"It's not crass, unlike your fellow brotherin. I'll give you that Parker." You would have taken a step back if you could, but you were now up against the wall. But he still had space to close in on you, not that he did. He always kept enough distance that you could walk away.

Come to think of it, you hadn't seen or heard him flirt with anyone since the first day of classes.

"Y'know, I got an offer from Delta Chi. It could be way worse." His comment earned a laugh from you, a feat Peter was quite proud of.

"You're right, I guess I should give you that."

"I think you can give me a lot more," He leaned in, closing some of the distance between you two but not all the way, "If you want."

The ball was in your court. His lips looked so soft, no doubt from the vanilla chapstick he used. God, why did you know that about him? And why did he always smell like cinnamon instead of Axe body spray? That's what he should be using, it would certainly make it easier for you to discourage your own feelings about the guy.

Tired of denying, tired of putting up a wall, and not kissing anyone in the last four months caused you to grab at his hoodie, your lips crashing onto his.

You vaguely register the sound of the dropped plastic cup, as your fingers thread through his hair to find it soft, despite all the hair dye and bleach.

Peter's hands feel large as they skim your sides, landing at your hips. When his tongue slid across your bottom lip, you could feel your knees begin to go weak. As if he could sense it, he pushed your back firmly against the wall, one of his large hands going down to your thigh to help steady you.

Fuck, his lips were soft. There was muscle underneath that hoodie, you could feel it.

His lips trailed down to your jaw before settling on your ear.

"I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard. Wanna hear about it?"

Desire burned at the pit of your stomach, your fingers gripping the strands of his hair.

"Where the fuck is your bedroom Parker?"

[suguann]

Hello! My name's Anne | An adult in my mid to late 20's | A hobbyist writer

RULES:

• I write for many fandoms, including Call of Duty, JJK, Shadow and Bone, Star Wars, Game of Thrones, Haikyuu, One Piece, etc.

• This is an 18+ space, and I also write dark content, so please read all content warnings if that makes you uncomfy!

• Don't copy, paste, or translate.

LINKS:

General tag

Writing tag

Fic Recs

MASTERLIST:

JUJUTSU KAISEN

ও GOJO

• Possessive Gojo (18+)

He gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.

• I Hope You Stay (18+) | Long Fic

He’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. It just sort of slipped out.

• Virgin Gojo (18+)

His last slip of restraint is when he finally looks down to find a wet patch on the front of your panties and how you're starting to form a dark gray spot on his sweats.

• Messy (18+)

You look so small like this—smaller than usual because everything about him is big in comparison—and that stirs something foreign in his gut that he can’t name.

• Three's A Crowd (18+)

“If you ask nicely for what you want, maybe he’ll give it to you,” your husband offers evenly. (Gojo/ Reader/ Nanami)

• Be With Me (18+)

The feeling sneaks up on him without his knowing, a throbbing in his chest that festers and grows over time until he can’t ignore it anymore or contain it in the proverbial cup of his hands no matter how hard he tries.

• Everything Comes Back to You (18+)

"Did you know we'd end up here?"

• Possessive Geto (18+)

• What I Never Told You (18+)

Gojo doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap.

ও GETO

In times like this, he wishes he had never come up with the rule about keeping your relationship a secret—so nobody thinks I’m picking favorites—regret is a thick pill to swallow.

ও MULTI

• Prettiest Baby (18+)

They can't help it, they're kind of obsessed with you.

• Fuck It, I Want You (18+)

They're so infatuated with you.

CALL OF DUTY

ও GHOST

• Good (18+)

“Just a little more,” a small lie because there’s never just a little more when it comes to you.

• Let Me (18+)

There comes a point where Simon finally admits that he hates your new boyfriend. [Part Two]

• I Left It Wet For You (18+)

Simon doesn’t share, but he makes an exception this time after his best friend’s date is a no-show, and he isn’t heartless enough to let Johnny hang out at the pub alone. [Simon/ Soap/Reader]

• Smitten

He watches you swipe lipstick across your mouth, grinning at your reflection in the mirror atop the dresser, and it's the cutest fucking thing. 

• In Threes (18+)

Your ex-boyfriend makes you think you are the problem. Simon shows you that's not the case.

• New Girl

He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.

• Neighborly (18+)

Simon looks at you with a cocked brow and something akin to amusement as he watches you squirm in his doorway. 

• Abience (18+)

He’ll only realize this after the fact—weeks late, sleepless nights filled with images of daisy-shaped buttons down the front of a summer dress and a smile that nearly knocks him flat off his feet.

ও PRICE

• Redamancy (18+)

You tried not to grow feelings—you really did. Feelings make things complicated, but you can’t help it. John’s just…John.

BALDUR'S GATE

ও ASTARION

• Oh, Darling (18+)

He’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky, and you have the sneaking suspicion he's upset with you.

[megamagimugi]

He's-a Gone

Luigi time! To suffer, that is.

(CW: character death)

This is obviously a sort of comlementary piece to I Was-a Too Late. But it's more than just that as it also illustrates a certain fun, dark what-if idea I had. Please keep reading if you're intrigued!

Lore:

Luigi's Mansion, the first game. Everything goes the same as in canon until the final boss fight, when Luigi defeats King Boo in his Bowser costume. After King Boo comes out and Luigi intends to suck him in, the villain laughs and reveals the truth: Mario's painting was an illusion, so was everything Madame Clairvoya saw. All just to mess with Luigi. Meanwhile the real Mario wasn't just captured by the Boos, he was immediately killed by them on their King's orders. The only physical thing that's left of him in this realm is the five items Luigi found - hidden by the Boos for Luigi to find, another part of King Boo's sick game.

Luigi is able to finish the fight despite his shock and grief, fueled by the anger King Boo never expected from him. After getting out of the painting the plumber discovers that it is indeed empty, no Mario or anyone else in the portrait.

Heartbroken and guit-ridden, Luigi goes back to Professor E. Gadd's lab and gives him back the Poltergust 3000. He doesn't even want to stay long enough to see what is going to happen to the ghosts. Of course the Professor tries to offer some semblance of comfort, but we all know it's not his forte.

So Luigi leaves, only taking Mario's five items with him. He notices that the mansion has disapeared without a trace. The reality of it all finally hits him, and he practically collapses onto a nearby tree's large root protruding from the ground, putting down the precious items around himself, only leaving the matching red hat and the letter in his hands. He should have known something was off. After all, the Mario he saw in the painting was wearing his hat and both gloves.

Looking at all these items, to his growing horror he can't help but imagine what exactly might have happened to his brother and what his last moments might have been like. He hugs the hat to his chest and rereads Mario's note several times, knowing that the brief warning was his brother's last words to him.

Luigi can do nothing but cry for the beloved brother he couldn't save, desperately wishing it was his warm, living and breathing body pressed to his chest rather than just a couple of his belongings.

But Mario is truly gone, apparently having met such a horrific fate that not even a single part of his body is left in the physical world.

[Good night]

…I'll leave the rest up to your imagination ;) Sorry if I got carried away with my description. Occasionally even I enjoy being a little dramatic, though I'm no writer whatsoever.

Yeah, I'm not apologizing for making this one - I was nicer to Luigi than to his bro, at least here the Mushroom Kingdom and everyone in it (except for Mario lol) is still okay!

But alas,

You can no longer play as Mario (warning: this is a video with sound)

Rest in spaghetti, funny wahoo man.

@federthenotsogreat I'm tagging you because you said you wanted more Mario art like I Was-a Too Late, thought you might like this one too!

@drones-of-innocence Also tagging you because you were interested in my idea.

Edit: Tagging a few more mutuals who might want to see this based on their reaction to my previous angsty work just in case, feel free to ignore. Or ask me to remove the tag if you want, no problem.

@silenzahra (remember, no rush) @c-lavanda @jell-o101 @stripetkattelalala54-gf

@luigixfanxayjay @itsavee4117

And you @giddlygoat just because you have a Luigi's Mansion AU and I thought you might appreciate this... Also because I'm a fan 👉👈

[hotchfiles]

↪ day twelve. dinner party stories — #marchhotchness

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [family line] ❞

pairing: hotchner x fem!reader. summary: he snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it. or: aaron shows what the unconditional love of a family should be like. content warnings: not proofread, a lot of family issues brought up, weight gain mention (negatively once, then positively), reader's parents being annoying and kind of mean. word count: 2.4K

      Aaron sees it in your eyes, in your breathing, in the way you move. He sees it in the way you’ve been playing more with your necklace and by how you can’t seem to stop spinning your engagement ring around your finger. He hasn’t seen you this anxious in months, and back then you were working on finishing your dissertation and it collided with the company you worked at losing clients, it was chaos. He knew right now there was no chaos in sight, so it could only mean one thing. 

      “Honey, did you speak to your parents recently?” His voice is always as soft as a feather when talking to you, even in the rare instances you argue. 

      You turn from the scrabble pieces and set your wine glass down, not minding the interruption to the cozy game when his voice sounded like that and his eyes looked at you like you were something so precious you could break. 

      “No, babe, why d’you ask?” 

      “You’re fidgeting like an hyperactive kid who hasn’t been put on Ritalin yet lately.” His explanation catches you off guard in a way that you almost reprehend him saying his name in a high pitched voice and slapping his arm in between laughter. His smirk shows you just how accomplished he feels that he made you laugh like that. 

      Aaron takes both of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles and urging you to talk with him just by the way he looked into your eyes, eagerly waiting for you to vent about what was making you so restless. 

      “I haven’t told them about the engagement yet. I want to have them over for dinner, to share the news but they are so…” You sigh profoundly, looking up to the ceiling trying to finish that though in a way that made sense. “Difficult.” 

      Aaron knows what difficult really means. It means patronizing. It means unsupportive. Unwilling. Unhelpful. It doesn’t mean unloving, but it means old fashioned in a way that it feels unloving. “We could have dinner in a nice restaurant instead, to ease up some of that pressure.” He suggests, always the problem solver. 

      “It would be perfect, handsome, but we did that last time…” Your voice trails off, laying your head on his lap, urging him to gently pass his fingers through your hair by that act alone, cozying up to him in an attempt to ignore the problem at hand. 

      Hotch follows your lead, not forgetting to place a kiss on your forehead, but also, not letting the problem go. “And my dear future mother in law will start dropping hints again that we don’t want them here.” You nod quietly. “Alright. Don’t call. Text her inviting them over with the details. Less talking.” 

      You groan, “She will complain about that too…”

      “Once they’re here.” He kisses your forehead, “So it’s only one,” and your nose, “Night,” your right cheek, “Of,” your left cheek, and you’re already grinning like an idiot, holding in your laughter at his boyishness, “Complaining.” Aaron finishes, brushing his lips against yours. you nod and pull your head up slightly, finally connecting you two in a sweet slow kiss.

      You get your big girl pants on after a delicious making out session with your fiancé, the scrabble pieces long forgotten as you gulp down your whole glass of wine and pick up your phone. His hair is messy, his cheeks are flushed and he grins at you with reassurance pouring from his sweet eyes as you send your mother the text, throwing your phone back to the table before seeing a response and going back straight to his arms.

      He made it easier, always. Helped you sort your feelings out, helped you find out the less stressing way to solve your problems. It was a joy to have him, to watch how he talked to Jack and see how it should be.

      More often than you would like to admit, you caught yourself thinking wow my parents would not let that slide, and then you would be faced with the reality that they were in the wrong, not Aaron.

      You talked to him about it once, asked how could he be so sweet and so effortlessly so to Jack, his answer came quickly, no hesitation: Jack had lost enough, losing his trust on his dad was not something Aaron would let happen, he didn’t want Jack to go through what he had as a child.

      Then it clicked to you once more, how you would never want to treat your hypothetical children like you had been treated too. 

      You try not to think too much about these things too often nowadays, but even as you laid on Aaron’s chest and felt his fingers lightly, softly, trace designs on your skin, now all you could think about was the damned dinner.

      Your mom wasn’t too judgy when it came to what you cooked, your dad was and annoyingly so, always had some remark about what would have made the food better, just like he did to your mother back home. 

      So first thing you did the next morning was think through all dinners and remarks and find something you could do following his tips to lessen the complaining, Aaron’s idea, of course. 

      “He always says my lasagna is delicious but too dry,” You mumble to yourself, but not really, you have your earphones on and Aaron on call, in the office doing reports he was able to entertain you as you picked up ingredients for extra sauce.

      You can hear him smiling, the sound of his aggressive pen on paper stopping for a second, “Even Rossi loves your lasagna, it is delicious. Just give your father a bowl full of sauce, he will be happier.” You snort and he goes back to his papers, satisfied to have made you laugh through the stress.

      Gathering the rest of the ingredients is easy enough, you’re already used to the grocery store’s layout and setup, you keep him on the line either way, a tradition you both kept whenever you were doing monotonous tasks, even when he didn’t speak, listening to his breathing, the shuffling of papers and his pen quickly making work through all his reports made you smile, calmed you down.

      Hotch thought it was silly at first, but quickly warmed up to it when he heard you softly,  secretive so, humming songs to yourself as you worked on your own reports, or went shopping, not to mention how adorable he found you to be when you forgot he was on the line and jumped scared as he spoke something.

      Most of all, he loved being immersed in a paper trail and being surprised by a hey I love you right in his ear as if you were there.

      It pained him to know how much of yourself you tried to mute down to please your parents when he loved every single tiny piece of what made you… You.  

      Hotch excused himself from the call to talk to Rossi just as you were about to go back home, satisfied you convinced him to get Rossi’s sauce recipe. 

      “Hers is great, why does she need mine?” Rossi sound almost exasperated, as if Hotch himself had said something about your cooking. He is quick to reassure that’s not the case and explain how you’re trying to please your father, Dave doesn’t seem that much happier about it, always pleased with the dishes you made for dinner parties at his mansion, but he still takes his phone and sends you a voice note explaining each step of his homemade tomato sauce. “Anything else?”

      “I need a favor as well. I’m gonna need the next weekend off for this.” Hotch begins, he knows Rossi would never mind that, no one would, in fact most people from the Bureau agreed he needed time off. “I know myself enough, I need to be completely off, no calls, no briefings.” He’s learnt his lesson from too many past mistakes, if he knows the case, if he knows the team needs him, he will be putting his job above anything else, Aaron can’t afford to do that anymore, so he prevents it. 

      His left thumb rubs the side of his index finger, his way to calm his racing thoughts, just the possibility of ruining this dinner has him anxious, this little habit of his was something he hadn’t even noticed he did before he met you. It was one of his tells and he never realized before you took his hand in yours and looked sweetly into his eyes saying you’re stimming, what’s wrong? In the softest tone he had ever heard anyone speak to him. 

      You were always quick to notice if anyone around you didn’t feel well, always a caretaker, it was a sight to take in and a pain to prove you so, being seen as selfish your whole life at home. 

      That day he got home late, Jack was doing his homework with your help while you worked on a few things on your laptop—a presentation you needed to finish soon as possible to get the next Friday off. 

      His office had become a shared office with your help, a U shaped desk where both of you could work being one of the first changes you made to it as soon as you moved in, it was perfect and it gave Jack space to sit close to either of you when he needed help.

      The sides faced the walls while and front faced the window where you and Jack sat, focused, it gave Hotch time to lean in the door frame and watch you both.

      “I’m not sure about that one, Jack-Jack…” You stop typing to read the question in his book again, impressed with how little you remember of school math. “If I Google this up, promise not to tell your teacher?” Aaron clears his throat at the question, catching your attention and making you laugh: Caught in the act. 

      “No Google, buddy, sorry.” Jack scrunches his nose at his father’s ruling out, a loud groan coming from his pre teen little voice. 

      “Told ya we should have started this earlierrrr—” You tease the boy, insinuating you two would have been able to find the answer online without his dad knowing then, you ruffle his short hair softly, loving the endearing smile he always gives you when you do that.

      His smile quickly turns into a yawn, the weight of the time stamped on Aaron’s watch getting to Jack’s eyes, “I’m sleepy.” 

      “You can finish tomorrow, let’s get you two to bed, buddy.” 

      Hotch picks Jack up and the young Hotchner is nothing but a ball of giggles, always saying he’s too big for that now, but obviously still loving the attention. 

      “Enjoy while you can, Jack-Jack, your old man is not getting any younger.” 

      “Yeah? I’m carrying your ass to bed soon too, my back can handle you both for years still.” You and Jack both laugh at him. It’s always almost as if a harsh mask melted when he got home, in its place would remain his soft features and the bickering you loved so dearly. 

      It was warm. And kind. Even when he came back home stressed, you never had to worry about accidentally setting him off or saying the wrong thing. It was a completely different dynamic than what you were used to. 

      It takes a few minutes for Hotch to come back, but he comes ready to make true of his promise, hands straight to your waist to carry you, tickling his way into your defenses, he laughs at your laughter and at how easy you melt to his touch. “I’m just finishing this up, babyy—” Your voice is purposefully whiny, pouting at him and getting a kiss in return, “Go eat your dinner while I do it, I heated it up when I got your text!”

      He stops trying to pull you up his shoulder or around his waist then, the look he gives you then reminds you of why you fell for him: Sweet like caramel, always betraying his known frown. 

      Aaron looks at you like every act of kindness you do makes him fall in love again, and it does. He traces your features with his thumb in silence, the mix of his calloused fingers and the softness of his actions makes you sigh, leaning into it.

      “I love you. I love our little family.” He kisses your forehead and leaves you to your presentation before you can even reply, before you can even tell him the two Hotchner boys are the first healthy family you’ve ever been in.

      You don’t even mind your dad complaining about your lasagna having way too much sauce the week after. Aaron eats for the both of them, compliments every single decision you made while cooking.

      The second your mother tells you you’ve been gaining weight, Aaron replies with a simple “If anything, we’re both getting bigger and happier.” A squeeze tight to your knee, stopping you from tearing up at how that was the only thing your mother did notice.

      They seemed happy about the engagement, but not too sure you’ll be able to care for him and his child as they needed to be cared for. You’re forgetful. You’re not maternal. You worry about work too much.

      You’re not even sure how good news could lead to such rambling about your flaws but again, before you can either cry or lose control and yell—Aaron comes in, his soft smile being completely betrayed by his furrowed brows and stern tone. He’s trying to be polite. “We take care of each other well, and together we care for Jack. It works. We work.”

      It’s simple but effective, what he wants is to shield you, to tell them how lucky they are you grew up as kind and hardworking when all they did was bring you down and doubt your feelings and your dreams.

      He wants to show them drawings Jack made of you and essays he wrote about his family. 

      But for now he settles on being polite. There’s still the whole wedding preparation and the actual wedding to go through. He has time to do all that. Right now he just makes sure to show you and them how much he supports you and how nothing they can ever say will change how he sees you. 

      At least he’s glad his mother is dead, one less problematic in law to deal with.

      He snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it.

[moonydustx]

response to this request @i0fty I loved your request (I have a thing for writing hurt/comfort and angst). I really hope you like it. I wrote it as f!reader, but I can adjust it if I want

warnings: F!Reader is attacked, mention of celestial dragons, Law and she have feelings for each other and it's obvious, Law saves F!Reader

one piece masterlist

----

As soon as you set foot on that island, you knew there was something strange, something that sent a chill down your spine. It would be a short break to stock up on some emergency supplies and head towards the next island, which was larger and would have more interesting information for your crew.

Even so, some crewmates and your captain, Law, disembarked next to you.

"So, do you need a lot of things?" Law tried to make conversation, seeing you take a small map out of your pocket and point to something he could barely understand.

"I needed some lemongrass herbs. I saw they sell them here, but they are expensive, however, given the climate of this island I think I can find some in this green area." You explained, seeing him nod and hand you a few more berris.

"Don't go far, it might not be safe. If you can find something to buy, buy it" he insisted, seeing you look around, apparently suspicious. "What it was?"

"Do you feel something strange in the air?" you asked and saw him repeat your gesture of checking the surrounding environment.

"Some residents seem a little scared." Shachi who had also disembarked scored.

"It could be our imagination, as well as some confusion that happened. Which would be a great attraction for the marine." Law explained as you walked behind him. "Be careful and don't get into any kind of trouble."

"Yes captain." even in uncoordinated unison, you responded together.

"And you, what are you going to explore?" you asked Law as the others scattered. "Not that there's much to do."

"Do you remember that old book about spirit hunters that you mentioned? I saw that there might be a copy around here."

"Bullshit! Are you going to buy it?" Law laughed lightly, almost imperceptibly when he saw your excitement.

"Just don't tell Bepo, he'll say I have favoritism in the crew." the captain pointed out. "If you finish early, meet me at the bookstore. It should be easy to find, I don't think there are many around here."

The promise of meeting him later made you excited. Your relationship with the captain was something different from your relationship with others - you shared games, reading and conversations until late at night. Sometimes, it was as if the two of you were in a little world of your own.

You even tried to use the money provided by Law but, in addition to being insufficient, the little shop had strange looks from all sides. The feeling on that island was of being spied on with every step taken, with every interaction.

Moving away from the small shopping center and without even entering the small forest that almost annexes the city, you found some bushes that you needed. It was simple to harvest them and tie them in a way to transport them without losing any leaves.

Before you could stand up and continue your journey to the bookstore, you felt something against your neck, but you were able to dodge it and roll to the other side. Finally standing up, she could see two men staring at you.

"I'm sorry, lady, but we have orders to take you." one of them warned and you bent down to reach the knife you had used to harvest, unfortunately not fast enough to feel something burn in your hand.

"What the fuck… You know what? I'm going to kill you" you left things aside and went out to fight them.

Even using everything you knew about fighting, trying to use all the blows that came to your mind, you still ended up getting hit more times, some of the blows you barely understood where they were coming from.

"What do you want with me?!" you shouted once again, being ignored.

The metallic taste on your lips indicated that the attack you suffered had been much stronger than you expected. Both the desire to fight and the fear itself caused your adrenaline to skyrocket, leaving you alert to any movement from the two men.

"You should save your efforts." one of them emphasized, the handcuffs on his hands made an annoying noise as they clashed together. "They will need you at full strength."

"And it's not like you're going to win alone." the other completed, stretching out the whip and hitting your arm squarely.

The sensation was something like an unexpected burn, but it wouldn't stop you from fighting, from returning to where you really belonged. Standing up, you advanced towards the shorter man, landing a few punches, enough for him to stagger a little and give you space to escape.

At least that's what you thought until you felt someone pull you back and the click of the handcuffs awakened your despair. No, you couldn't let yourself get carried away like that. How would your friends be? Would they ever see you serving as a doormat for one of those damned celestials?

"This is an aggressive one, just like they asked for." the man pressed his body to yours, in order to speak in your ear. "The guys up there, the big celestial dragons will like a piece like you. They'll hunt you, they'll hurt you and I'll get rich."

No matter how much you struggled, his grip grew even stronger against your body, while the other man got closer to try to cover your face. Perhaps desperation had prevented you from noticing some things around you, awareness hit you completely when the aggressive grip around your body became a gentle, almost protective touch. His voice hit you before your own perception.

"It's ok, I'm here now." Law let his hands run down your arms and he advanced towards the other man.

In another situation, Law would have fun tearing those bodies into pieces and watching them try to reorganize themselves. But this time it was different.

They had messed with one of his crew members, an intelligent aspiring doctor, who would know how to use any and all plants to her advantage, who was great at playing chess and had read a good part of Sora's stories - even if the last ones were by his invitation. She was the girl who laughed at anything while dying of shyness when someone pointed out an adjective to her. She was the girl he dreamed of getting some attention, but her scared eyes indicated that those bastards had hurt her and he couldn't let that go.

The first man - who Law hadn't changed places to reach you - soon fell to the ground, clearly unconscious.

"Where's the other one?" your voice was exasperated, as your eyes tried to hunt the other guy through some trees.

"Shachi and Penguin already took care of him." Law pointed out while looking for keys to the handcuff.

"W-we need ... W-we need to check!" the way your voice sounded urgent alerted Law, forcing him to get closer to you. "He can get help, they have whips and…"

"Hey!" He tried to call you, not having much success. When his hands found your face, Law saw you flinch. "Look at me, Shachi and Penguin already took care of this… Look at me!" he pulled your face back, seeing you want to dodge.

"But… T-they had whips... and handcuffs and they were going to t-take me to the c-celestial dragons." the words stumbled as they left your lips.

"They won't, I would never let them." Law insisted, seeing you nod, even though he knew the words wouldn't truly reach you.

"Let's go back to Polar Tang, what do you think?" he suggested and saw you nod practically in slow motion and remain silent.

As quickly as Law had transported you back to the submarine, the thoughts were faster than you could express.

It was difficult to process some things, you still had a hard time accepting that there were people who felt so superior to others that they chose random people to be hunted. You had heard of it, but you always thought of it as something far away from you, that it was just a scary story that would stay far away.

But there you were, feeling your wounds being cleaned by careful hands, extremely contrary to what you had felt just now.

"Please…" Law's voice came out almost like a sigh. "I need you to say something."

"What do you need?" Your eyes watched as Law left the tweezers with the cotton on the small tray next to him.

"You're too immersed in your own mind and I can tell you that's not a good thing." he explained and saw you rambling again, it was clear that something was wrong. "Please don't think just talk to me."

"I thought everything was lost, you know?" you began, feeling your eyes sting with tears. "I've never felt so scared."

"I told you, I would never let that happen." Law didn't hesitate as he ran his hand over your face, brushing away some tears that insisted on coming out. "And I promise this won't happen again."

"You're the captain, you have more things to worry about." a weak, almost inaudible laugh came out of you. "Do I really matter that much?"

"Much more than you think." he pointed out and saw you smile shyly. "I was in the bookstore and I started hearing some comments about missing people. They all had some kind of similarity to you… I know they are in different ways, but I felt scared like I haven't felt in a long time."

"What does that mean?"

"That I'm going to finish stitching up those wounds, I'm going to make you something to eat and after that, you won't be out of my sight anymore." he explained.

Even though you felt a slight discomfort in the wounds on your arm, you allowed your face to lean against his chest, your arms to wrap around him in a simple hug. His face lowered itself to the top of your head and a "I promise to always be here" was whispered in your embrace.

[missriyochuchi]

The Torchbearer and the Flagbearer

Summary: The Torchbearer and the Flagbearer meet in the Jardin des Tuileries after the Opening Ceremony and commiserate about the Olympic Games.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Established relationship. Mentions of death.

Notes: I imagined these two like otherworldly beings blessing the games, what with the Olympics being invented by ancient Greeks as a partly religious event. As such, I would have preferred to keep them gender neutral, but because I’m writing this in a pinch and want to be able to distinguish between them without constantly using their names, I opted for gendered pronouns. But nothing about their physical descriptions are particularly gendered; I’m just leaning on the old linguistic quirk lol Also, how tf is there no video of the Flagbearer!? I wanted to gif her/their entrance but couldn’t find a damn thing! She/They deserves more love!

Read on AO3 - Part 2 - Part 3

Darkness cloaks the Jardin des Tuileries. Even the cauldron floating above its center offers little illumination on the ground. Shadows play along the perimeter, tourists passing in the midnight hour, their idle conversations lost to the humid air. The soft patter of rain echoes across the masonry scattered throughout the empty park. Only the occasional creak of metallic plates and restless hoofbeats betray the garden’s solitary visitors.

The Flagbearer looks up at the orange orb in the sky. She marvels at the city’s ingenuity. Decades of oil and gas have finally given way to an electric fire. Only with such technological advancements could engineers even dream of safely flying the eternal flame above the City of Lights. If only the future was as assuredly bright, the Flagbearer thinks. Her gaze drifts back down to the darkness below, the surrounding chill creeping back into her senses. Her horse stirs beneath her and jostles her mind back to the present.

“Easy, Zeus,” she murmurs as she presses her legs to the animal’s sides in an attempt to soothe both their anxieties. “Patience.”

No Olympic Games are ever truly free of political problems, an inevitability of any gathering between disparate peoples, but they weigh heavier on the Flagbearer’s mind now more than ever. Her part in the Opening Ceremony is small but significant, and though she spends less time among the crowds than her eternal counterpart, she catches enough to gauge that tensions are higher than ever before. The darkness of the night seems to encroach and bleed into the darkness in her mind as she ponders human history and her role in it. Before her resolve could lurch under the gravity of her thoughts, the light crunch of gravel announces his arrival.

“You are late,” the Flagbearer intones harshly. She steers her steed to turn around and face the approaching footsteps.

Enough ambient light creeps across the park to distinguish the Torchbearer’s silhouette, catching on the gauzy pieces of his attire bobbing in the breeze. His stride is sure, his stature straight, betraying neither weariness nor arrogance. Only a few meters away, he shrugs and raises his palms out at his sides, teasing, “I did not have a ride.”

The Flagbearer is unmoved but in no mood to quarrel. “How are you, my love?” Her voice floats soft and light through the misty drizzle.

“Exhausted.” His shoulders slump fractionally, perceptible only to his eternal flame facing him. “And you?”

“Concerned.”

The Torchbearer reaches for the horse’s muzzle and runs a familiar hand along his nose. “I hope you are not as troubled as your rider, mon joli cheval.” Zeus bows his long head and huffs in response. His palm runs along the animal’s left flank, lifting once he reaches the Flagbearer’s side. He extends both hands to her gloved ones and helps her to the ground.

“What ails my sweet?” He pinches her chin.

She hums and takes one of his hands in both of hers, squeezing hard enough to convey her worry. “In all our years shepherding these games, did you ever know the atmosphere to be this—”

“I know. The world is—”

“Restless.”

“Yes, and—”

“Not at peace.”

“Never has been, my love.”

“I do not remember it ever being this—”

“Your worries are not unfounded, cherie, but you must redirect your attention elsewhere.”

They circle the base beneath the cauldron, hand in hand. Zeus follows close behind, his reins tied to the saddle. While the nightlife bustles beyond the park’s pocket of silence, the few security guards on duty watch the hooded figures from a distance.

Event organizers had explicitly and numerously instructed personnel not to approach or engage with the Torchbearer and Flagbearer. They were both host and blessing to the festivities, and decades of tradition dictated that a respectful, neutral distance be maintained between the host nation and the two Olympic guardians so that there would be no suspicion of impropriety or favoritism during competition.

The Flagbearer recoils, incredulous. “How can you be so indifferent to the violence and rhetoric—”

“I am surprised that between the two of us, you, in your glittering armor, are the first to lose hope and declare defeat.”

“I have not!” She stops them in their orbit and shoves his hand back to his side.

The Torchbearer laughs. He crooks a finger under her chin and raises her gaze. She sighs and closes her eyes as the backs of his fingers graze her cheek. Her hands come up to open and press his palm to the side of her face, his pressure more than his warmth a soothing balm to her inner turmoil. Her voice is low and leaden when she continues.

“I merely wonder if the gods have not tasked us with an impossible mission.”

The Torchbearer falls silent as he contemplates the Flagbearer’s concerns. She did not interact with humans as much as he did, a natural consequence of their separate roles. While the Olympic torch exchanged hands with every kind of man and woman, the Olympic flag exchanged hands with a significantly select few. As a result, the Flagbearer’s opinion of humanity often leaned towards the optimistic while the Torchbearer’s leaned towards the pessimistic. He had come to know, better than she, the complexities of human nature, their heavenly highs and their hellish lows. They spent decades arguing about the tenuous balance. Now, as he watches his partner’s shoulders sag with the weight of the world, he finds himself despondent that she seems poised to concede to his viewpoint and knows it, knows that she lost this one important battle. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and guides their walk away from the cauldron.

“Plus vite, Plus haute, Plus fort.” The Torchbearer rattles off the Olympic motto.

“Citius, Altius, Fortius, my dear. Latin may be dead, but it is still your mother tongue.”

“‘Ensemble.’ C’est la partie importante. And that is precisely what they are doing and continue to do.”

“But for how long? We do not have a future if they do not, and my darling, I do not see—”

“We cannot predict the future any more than humans can. It is none of our concern. The gods will take care of us.”

“The gods have abandoned us, just as the humans have abandoned them.” The Flagbearer catches the ice in her voice and does her best to warm her vitriol. “We do not exist outside these games, my love. And if these games end, if the world can find no purpose to these communal competitions—”

Silence. The specter of death looms large in their periphery. Every Closing Ceremony marks the end of their days on Earth, a return to a darkness beyond darkness. And every two years, they are reborn and reimagined back into existence to inspire and perform and protect the Olympic Games. Despite the constancy of this cyclical event, the eternal guardians find humans increasingly less hospitable to the ideals they represent. What is sportsmanship to a world where even the rules of war no longer hold?

“Steel your heart as this city has steeled your form.” The Torchbearer steps close enough for the edge of his hood to kiss hers. “The next host cities have been decided, their venues under construction. We still have a future. There is no reason to despair.”

“For now.”

“For now.” He sighs at her obstinacy, but knows not to push further or risk wasting precious moments on a fruitless fight. “In the meantime, the games have begun, and we do not have much time together.”

A smirk plays beneath the Flagbearer’s hood. She perks up at her partner’s motives. “Sixteen days is not enough to spend with you.” She steps closer and brings her forehead to his. She squeezes his biceps, and he rubs her elbows in return. They exchange breaths for a moment of eternity.

“Come.” The Torchbearer takes her hands and swings her in circles. Their laughs echo as they near the horse. “Much of the city has changed since we were last here, and you will not see them if you continue to sulk beneath the cauldron.”

The Flagbearer mounts Zeus and extends an arm to help the Torchbearer take a seat behind her. He presses his front to her back, unbothered by her damp cape. He slides his arms along either side of her waist and rests his hands atop hers on the horn of the saddle. The horse ambles forward towards the city streets.

Buoyed by the Torchbearer’s embrace, the Flagbearer regains a sliver of her hope and optimism. “The Italians will call on us next. Perhaps we will meet a changed world by then.”

“We always do. I wonder what forms they have planned for us.”

“I quite like this form on you, my dear. The cut of your jacket complements you well.”

“As does this armor on you, mon amour.” His hands find the edge of her cuirass and sneak nimble fingers to the suit underneath.

She giggles at the light pressure below her ribcage. “I will miss hearing you speak this city’s language.”

The Torchbearer tightens his hold on the Flagbearer, impressing his being into hers. “You worry about community and forget that we are in the City of Love.”

“Paris is not the world, my dear.” They sway in sync as Zeus carries them towards the edge of the garden.

“Perhaps, but the Olympic Village is, or at least, as close an approximation as the humans are capable of producing. If it is unity you seek, we will surely find a certain kind—”

“You said you were exhausted.” Amusement lightens the Flagbearer’s tone, her heavy mind now fizzy with thoughts of the Torchbearer’s amorous intentions.

“Never enough to deter me from you.” He presses his chin to her shoulder, his words vibrating down the expanse of her armor. “Would you waste the energy of the players’ liaisons?”

Her hood whips to the side as he squeezes the unarmored flesh of her upper thigh. Before she can answer, he takes the reins and brings Zeus to a gallop towards the Olympic Village.

“No more talk,” he heaves with urgency. “I need you before the sun rises and our duties begin again.”

Footnotes:

mon joli cheval - my pretty horse cherie - dear Plus vite, Plus haute, Plus fort (French) / Citius, Altius, Fortius (Latin) - Faster, Higher, Stronger ‘Ensemble.’ C’est la partie importante. (French) - ‘Together.’ That is the important part. mon amour - my love

“The 100% electric flame burns no fuel. The ring of fire uses 40 LED spotlights to illuminate the cloud created by 200 high-pressure misting nozzles.” (source)

According to the engineers who built the mechanical horse, its name is Zeus.

[writersblockedx]

Winters Protection

Pairing - Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Summary - When Alexander Piece's daughter begins to rebel, he assigns The Winter Solider as her personal bodyguard.  Warnings - Mentions of violence and death

A/n - I haven't uploaded to tumblr for a long while, but I hope you still enjoy this, I'm likely to make a part two as well! Also happy new year all!

Masterlist

It had become a game. One of which you were known to win far too often. Slipping away from the security detail when they were too busy smoking a cigarette outside, running across the bustling streets of nighttime Brooklyn as you and your friends headed to some niche bar they wouldn't find you. Maybe you had been stupid to think you could continue to get away with it without your father finding out.

It almost should have been expected that night. The early morning sun cast across your rustic, downtown apartment as your intoxicated self stumbled with the key. When you pushed the door open, dark figures stared back at you. Only personalised when you switched at the light and found your father sitting with a class of neat whisky at the breakfast bar. Stood behind him was a broad-shouldered man. One of which you had to assume was another bodyguard. Until your gaze flickered down to the metallic shine of his left arm: The Winter Solider.

Your focus turned to your father first. "Dad?" His name left your tongue with uncertainty as you drew closer into your own home. "What is this?"

He was slow, unusually calm considering the situation. You had been through this enough to know that meant he was truly mad. A part of you wondered if he was about to let his pet loose on you, teach you a lesson you wouldn't forget. "You we're out, all night, no bodyguards, doing god knows what with who knows. I come to learn this is-" He takes a sharp inhale as to calm his furious tone. "This is happening every single weekend. How stupid are you, little girl?"

You kept quiet as he stepped from his seat, downing the rest of the whisky from the expensive glass. "You can't be trusted, do you understand?"

"Look, Dad, I just wanted-"

A harsh throw. Then a clash. Glass flying left, right and center. Your breath caught in your throat before you could even feel the blood dripping from your cheek. But you weren't worried about your torn skin, but rather the thousand-pound glass he had let shatter without a second thought. 

"You are in no position to speak back, right now." You kept your lips sealed and your eyes dry despite the tears which fought to escape. "It's become evident to me you have no desire for your own safety. You are naive enough to flaunt around this city in your short little skirts with no concern for our enemies. If you weren't family, you would be dead." Such a phrase echoed across your mind, sure to keep you awake.

"So, now, you have him." He wandered around to where the Winter Solider had yet to move from, his eyes dark and brooding. "24/7, ensure you don't do anything stupid again."

You rushed up, panic in your eyes. 24/7. No more nights that swept into the morning. No more privacy. Nothing. "Please, I'll stop, I'll be more careful. I'll stop ditching the security detail. But I don't need your science project to look after me."

He stared down. For a moment you thought he might throw something else at the wall. Luckily, he wasn't holding onto anything anymore. "It's too late for that." His gaze turned to the man. "Clean it up."

In an instant, the soldier was moving. Gathering the glass in his bare hands from the floor. A hand fell on your bleeding cheek, forcing you to face your father. "I do this because I love you." Though, you found such hard to believe.

A breath of relief fell from your lips which his touch left your skin. Your eyes not moving to the floor as you listened to the door open and then shut, leaving you under the protection of the Winter Solider. It was in that moment, your body gave in. Tears flooded from your eyes, your knees shook and you forced your body onto the sofa. The distant sound of glass in the background not stopping your hands from meeting your face.

You hadn't been sure how long had passed. Only that when you uncovered your face from your hands, the soldier was facing you with a first aid kit. You watched him carefully as he took out a wipe and some stitches. The wipe hit your wound with a sting that lingered. Enough to cause your hand to grip his wrist, forcing him to a stop. "I've got it." You grumbled, taking the supplies for yourself.

He was still silent. A nod of recognition before he continued to clean the floor. You were left to your tears, cleaning the wound and forcing your body through the pain. You had no care for the man, barely such, that you left in your kitchen that night. From the stories you had heard, you should have been more concerned about the monster cleaning up broken glass. Yet, he now served to protect you - as much as it pissed you off.

You somehow found yourself soundly sleeping off the argument, the intoxication and the pain. No worries for the man, no hospitality. You hadn't even wandered where he slept. However, you had questioned whether he did need sleep. The Winter Solider seemed almost robotic. He obeyed orders from the highest command. Even if that meant being stuck in Alexander Pierce's eldest daughter's apartment, ensuring she wasn't going to sneak out.

It confused your senses when you awoke to the smell of food. The distant sound of the cooker crackling. It pulled you out of bed, in nothing but an oversized t-shirt to find the soldier cooking breakfast rather than pulling men in half. "What- erm" You wiped your tired eyes. "What are you doing?"

He didn't even look away when he answered, "Orders."

 "And they are?"

He severed up the simple plate of scrambled eggs on toast before turning to you, plate in hand. "Care for you, ensure your safety, whatever means necessary."

With a furrowed brow, you took the plate. You couldn't deny the smell was inviting. "And that includes cooking me breakfast?"

"A night of intoxication. Carbs help." He informed.

Despite your confusion, you sat at the breakfast bar and began eating, trying to ignore the murderer who stood across from you. Only a moment passed before he spoke up, "Where is the bathroom?"

You pointed up, "First door on the left." And you watched, even more confused as the man's back turned to you, disappearing up the stairs. It only took a minute before the sound of the shower could be heard; guess your father wasn't lying about the 24/7 bodyguard.

It had yet to hit you how much your life truly was about to change until later on. As was usual, you were ready to head into town. Not for a bar-hopping trip, or a late-night date, just coffee with a friend. Something simple, something that your father once deemed safe. Yet as you headed for your front door, walking right passed the soldier, he stood. His voice forcing you to look from your phone screen, "Where are you going?"

You had been so close to slipping away. "Out." Your words were followed with a shrug. "I'll not be long."

In between the time of responding to the message and looking back again, the winter solider had acquired a leather jacket and a pair of gloves. "You don't have to come with me. I'm just meeting a friend." You almost laughed at the thought of needing a bodyguard for coffee.

"It's orders." He repeated.

You should have expected this from my dad. "Really? I'll be safe, alright?"

"If you want to request me to not join, you're going to have to call pierc- your father."

You dreaded nothing more in that moment. You knew what his answer would be. Some long, metaphoric lecture, and you'd still be faced with the answer of no. "Fine, just erm-" You looked him over. "Be subtle, please."

He nodded before trailing behind you as you headed out onto the streets of Brooklyn. A few eyes followed you and the brooding man who didn't leave your side, didn't speak, yet seemed like he was awaiting something. Ready to pounce at any sign of danger. He wasn't like any of your past bodyguards. He wasn't scrolling through hinge in the meantime, nor was he yearning for a cigarette. He was here for a job and it seemed as if nothing was going to stop him. 

By the time you reached the quaint coffee shop, you spotted your friend already sipping a brewing drink in the window. A smile grazed your lips as you looked back at the soldier. "You're not coming in are you?"

The expression you faced suggested you had no choice, "It's-"

"Order. Yeah, I get it." You finished for the man before a sigh fell from your lips as you pulled at the door. "Just, maybe sit a few tables away from us, please?" You begged and such was responded with nothing but a silent nod.

"Finally!" Called your friend as she stood from the wooden table, her eyes still lingering over the muscular man at your side. "And who is this?" She was seconds away from laying her hands around his biceps.

"New security detail." You answered with nothing but a stern expression.

Her brow raised, "To watch over you while we get coffee and talk shit?" Even she seemed to find it laughable. She was used to joining their nights out with unknown men looking out for you. But this was different, it was a whole lot more intense. And, quite frankly, getting on your nerves. 

"Let's just say my dad got tired of me ditching my bodyguards, he's trying to teach me a lesson, it won't last long." Or so you liked to tell yourself. Your head snapped back round to the soldier as you continued, "But he's not going to sit with us." It was as if he needed a reminder.

The soldier stared only at yourself. A stern nod before he wandered towards a distant table, still with a good view of yourself. However, it was good enough for you as you followed your friend towards the spot she had been keeping warm. "He seems...quiet." Your friend put politely.

You looked over your shoulder, already meeting his gaze as if it was glued to your figure. It faulted your smile as you gazed back to your friend, "He's one of my dad's projects." And projects was putting it nicely. You didn't know everything, but you knew enough. The man who was sworn to protect you, was a killer, blood red hands, and a list of victims to follow.

"Not one you can ditch then?" There was a hit of mischief in her eyes. It seemed to have become a tradition that any club nights had to have the thrill of running away. Now, it seemed less as a thrill and more of a danger.

"No, not really." You answered with a sigh to her disappointment.

And so as the conversation swiftly returned to the mundane gossip, you couldn't help but feel the need to look over your shoulder. You thought with the presence of a bodyguard that need would dissipate. Instead, you couldn't help but worry about what your new bodyguard was truly capable of. And how much you were going to see while he was assigned to your safety. 

[theweepingangelofcas]

Pip pip from your friendly neighbourhood lurker, I saw your requests are open and so I shall request my fluffy little idea to you dear writer and I hope you find just as funny and sweet as I did.

So for my request for the mtp bois basically on TikTok I saw a vid where a gf found her bf sleeping on the soft and decided to prank him by setting up a fake game of uno (but you can choose a different board game/card game if you want) once set up she starts shaking him awake and telling him its his turn obviously confused and half asleep but still takes his turn.

I don’t have any pacifically for this request so I’m leaving up to you to choose who would be best for this scenario.

From yours truly,

Your friendly neighbourhood lurker 

Hello, Friendly Neighborhood Lurker! For your ask, I decided on a few things on my own. Sadly, I don't believe uno existed during the Victorian era, so I opted for chess instead (a game I am absolute trash at, but shall write about it nonetheless). I also decided that William and Sherlock would be the most likely to fall asleep on the sofa during a busy day, so they will be our victims lol

***********************

My Turn? - Moriarty Boys x Reader

William Moriarty

Your poor William had been working himself to death lately.

Between the long days of teaching, long evenings of grading papers, and long nights of committing acts of violence, it was a miracle he ever got any sleep.

So when he finally fell into a deep slumber on the sofa one lazy morning, you knew now was the perfect time to spring your trap.

William awoke to the realization of a few things. 1. There was fresh tea brewing beside him. Earl grey, as far as he could tell. 2. You were sitting beside him. The floral notes of your favorite perfume was unmistakeable. 3. You were calling to him. Gently, lovingly. It brought him out of his slumber in the most lovely way he could imagine. His eyes opened sluggishly, turning his head to look over at you. "Yes, y/n? What is it?" He yawned, trying to focus on your words. You giggled, "It's your turn, William." He realized what you were talking about. There was a chessboard in front of you, set up next to said previously mentioned tea. The table between you two held snacks as well, set up like one of your usual game nights. He observed the board, before chuckling himself, "I can assure you, my dear, I am not the one who placed these pieces. But, to humor you..." He picked up a pawn, using it to behead one of your knights. Another laugh, "Why do you say that, Will? We were playing, and you must've been so tired you dozed off-" "This board is set up to a Stafford's gambit. Though I am no great chess player, even I know that this is a poor choice of plays." You finally released your laughter, trying to scoff it down to no avail, "And here I was, dear, hoping I had finally tricked you." Finally, he sat up. leaning across the table to give you a peck on the cheek. "Mm. Maybe one day, my sweet girl. Maybe one day."

Sherlock Holmes

This man is the most manic creature ever created by fiction, do you think he sleeps on a regular basis?

He's too smart to fall for your tricks after just one nap, which is why you waited for a much different occurance to happen...

You waited til he was coming back from a case.

"Dove?!" He was elated. His latest case had truly been genius. A devious crime scene, a truly mad perpetrator, everything he could have wanted! Even a headless nun! He simply had to tell you, his beloved partner of 2 years, all about it! "I'm over here where you left me, Lock!" He ran to you, bounding over heaps of books that he had looked through earlier, before joining you on the ragged sofa. In front of you was a chessboard, still in the early few plays. "Did John play a few games with you? Goodness knows that man is rubbish at chess. He should stick to being a doctor." You laughed, placing your hand on his knee, "No, dear, remember? We were just starting our game when Lestrade barged in and asked for your help." His face fell, trying to recall the events earlier that day. Truly, he couldn't recall too much besides following Lestrade out the door. A guilty look marred his face, "Dove, I am so sorry. I don't even remember. The case, it took up so much of my mind..." He looked over to you. Normally, he would have expected you to look sad. Disappointed, maybe. Instead, you had a smile. He took an extra second to observe the layout in front of him. Those were not any type of moves he would have played. He pinched your arm, and you squealed, "Liar. Good one, though. You almost got me." A kiss on your cheek, and he picked up one of your bishops off of the board. "Now, let me tell you about the headless nun."

[aestherin]

KEEP MY HEART

goal 09: do you like sweets?

You are fully self-aware that you have delusional tendencies, but you know yourself well enough to think that you weren't that far gone yet to the point that you will start seeing your long distance crush right in front of you.

He's probably real.

Taking notice of your presence, Scaramouche then turned towards you. His face was hard to read, other hand holding his phone and the other inside the pockets of his denim pants. His oversized black shirt was tucked, highlighting his good figure.

'Holy. He's got good style too,' you thought. It was simple, yes. But he carries outfits so damn well.

But what is he even doing here in your uni?

Since an eye contact has already been made, you flashed a sheepish smile and a light wave. Your loud personality online was such a huge contrast in comparison to how you're actually behaving now.

He just stared. 'Oh. So he's the cold type. God, he's exactly my type.'

"Aren't you going in?" You snapped out of your musings upon hearing his voice.

"I was about to. I'm starving," you chuckled. He scoffed. "I could use a bit of food, too."

"We should eat at the birthday party then."

"Kazuha's?"

You nod.

He looked away. "Go and eat inside. I'll find another place to eat at."

You flashed a look of disbelief. Scaramouche raised a brow in confusion. "Dude, you're literally already at a restaurant and you still want to go somewhere else to eat?"

"And you're hungry, aren't you?"

He sighed. "Look, I don't know if you know this, but the one holding a party — well, we're not on the best of terms."

Oh. Yeah.

There's that thing.

How the fuck could you forget that the love of your life is from the rival of your brother's team?

"Ah," You nod again. He seemed to take it as you understanding his reasoning and turned the other way, attempting to head off.

If only you hadn't tugged at his shirt.

"What the?!"

You led him to a lone bench at the parking lot, lit warmly by the streetlight just directly above it. "Sit there and wait for me."

"Excuse me?" He hissed. "What am I? A dog?"

"Your words, not mine." You grinned. "Just do as I say, okay? It won't be long, I promise."

He was about to retort but you cut him off by hurriedly entering the lively restaurant.

When you got back, you easily spotted Scaramouche who was sitting comfortably on the bench where you left him. He immediately scooted over once he saw you.

"Wow," he remarked. "You know I actually doubted if you would even come back."

You chuckled as you sat and handed him his plate. "Do you have trust issues?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Oh, so you do."

He rolled his eyes.

Your late dinner with him was mostly filled with a comforting silence, with some bits of small talk in between. The only ones left on your plate were delectable desserts, as well as the little pieces of food you left out.

"Do you like sweets?"

"No," Scaramouche speedily replied. "They're disgusting."

You subconsciously frown. "Shame. I like them."

"You can have mine then," he says as he picks up his portion of desserts and transfers them to your plate. Unbeknownst to you, his observant gaze failed to miss how your eyes sparkled in delight at the sight of mouthwatering sweets.

As he did so, Scaramouche also spotted some leftovers on your plate. "Do you not like bitter stuff?"

"My tongue can't handle them."

"Give it to me then instead of wasting food, idiot."

You let out a laugh. "Is that your way of saying you like bitter stuff?"

The man just let out a quiet "tch" before taking a bite.

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

previous . masterlist . next

SUMMARY —you find plenty of guys around you attractive, but there is only one you’re willing to make the first move on: the guy you first saw during your older brother’s soccer game. spoiler: he's a player from your rival university.

NOTES -> a lot has happened lmaoo i was so busy aaa -> i graduated hs finally :P -> i also submitted my requirements for college haha -> also can u guys believe i'm gonna be in college while my college smau is on going omg -> and apologies for ghosting HASDHADHA (also wtf fontaine livestream tomorrow already whaaat time flies so fast omg)

TAGLIST I (closed)

@lady-elodie @krnzysh @syriiina @unsterblich-prinz @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @lowkeyivorie @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks

[webslingingslasher]

please angsty queen give us “ranting to a close friend/parent about what they're upset about before they make confrontation just to make sure they aren't overreacting” and “why are you looking at me like that” 🫢

more fluffy than angsty, but i still put some in there bestie.

*mcu peter

Dating a superhero was hard. 

Go figure, right? You don’t think anyone would think it’s easy but the big thing, the real problem in dating one, was that you felt like there was no way to bring up your issues without being selfish. Lately, there was no such thing as Peter time. Dates were pushed off or canceled, he would have you come all the way to his just so he can get pulled away, or get halfway to yours and bail. 

For two weeks straight it hasn’t felt like you had a boyfriend. 

But how do you tell him you feel neglected while he’s out there literally saving people? Hey, Pete? Oh yeah, no, no, it’s nothing, just feeling a little left out, can you stop that guy from dying and come cuddle? Yeah, it was hard. 

One side feels bad, the other is shameful. That side says that Peter could take time away, that he couldn’t always save everyone, that sometimes he could just leave things to the police. But that’s a dark side you’d never talk about, ever. 

You just really needed to talk about it, with anyone other than Peter. You couldn’t tell your boyfriend that he was lacking in his department because he was being a hero. 

“MJ, thank god.” She was the best person to talk to, she took no sides and told it how it was. She could also keep a secret, the only time you let a person play a fence is MJ, she knows too much to ever pick a side. 

“Hola,” She snaps a piece of her apple off, and looks down at her book. Your head looks around the lunchroom, curly hair is nowhere to be found, you need to speak quickly. 

“I need your advice,” you lick your lips and lean forward, she dog ears the page she’s on and closes the book, “go on,” paranoid you look around once more. 

“It’s about Peter.” 

MJ flickers her eyes up, a hand is placed on your shoulder, a kiss dropped on the top of your head. 

“What’s about Peter?” 

You freeze, he’s Spider-Man but you swear he’s rubbed a sixth sense onto you, you just knew he’d pop up. 

“Your birthday’s coming up,” he laughs and sits next to you, “no it’s not,” you look to MJ for support, she gives none, you picked a shitty excuse. “It’s like, seven months away, we have to start planning.” 

Peter takes a bite of your sandwich, “now? Who are you inviting, the whole city?” 

You tsk, “there goes the surprise.” 

You reach to steal a fry, he lets you take three. “You’re lying and wanna talk to MJ about me, don’t you, squidward?” 

Your nose scrunches, “is it normal to let the other person know you’re about to shit talk them in a relationship?”

 Peter thinks about it, MJ watches with a smirk, “I don’t think so, it’s normal to vent.” 

“Do you ever shit talk me?” 

He looks into your eyes, you don’t want to know, “I wouldn’t call it shit talk, MJ, would you call it shit talk?” 

She swallows a bite of apple, “nah, you more panic call than anything.” 

Peter hums and looks at you, “five minutes good?” 

You tilt your head, “to do what?” 

Peter nods at MJ, “to shit talk, I’ll leave five minutes before lunch ends, if that’s enough time.” 

You look him up and down trying to figure out his game, he seems sincere. “You seem really okay with this, I don’t trust it.” 

He shrugs, “babe, we’ve been together long enough. I know you’re not mad at me, I can tell, so I don’t think the conversation could be too damaging.” 

You’re still weary, “fine, five minutes.” 

Peter leans to press a kiss to your temple, “deal,” he looks to MJ, “hey, what was that thing Jason whispered to you in class?” 

MJ cackles, “okay, listen to this,” you follow in conversation until Peter looks at his watch, he kisses your cheek, “times up, see you later.” 

He sends a salute to MJ and finds his way to the double doors, pushing out. 

“Yeah, I could see how you’d want to shit talk him.” 

You groan, “he makes it so hard! Like, this is why I need to talk to you, I feel so evil when I think about telling him bad things.” 

“Okay, what’s up then?” 

“I don’t feel like I have a boyfriend anymore, MJ.” Her eyes widened, “oh shit.” You sigh, “he’s constantly running out on me, canceling dates, not replying for hours at a time, and I feel so shitty because I get so annoyed but I know he’s doing it for a good reason.” 

“And you’d feel selfish telling him because you know what he’s doing when he cancels.” 

You point, “ding, ding, ding. I’m just getting to this place where I feel like I’m being neglected. I don’t like feeling like everytime I’m with my boyfriend I’m on borrowed time. MJ, I…” The words burnt your tongue but it’s a thought that's been on your mind, “MJ, I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” 

MJ frowns, she couldn’t imagine you two not being together, you just made sense. 

“Want my opinion?” 

You nod, MJ clears her throat and shuffles forward. Her hands intertwined and rested on the table, “He’s Spider-Man, but he also needs to be Peter Parker. You deserve to have time with your boyfriend, he needs you to tell him that he’s not splitting his time enough. It doesn’t make you selfish to want Peter.” 

“I should tell him, you think?” 

“If you don’t it’ll turn into resentment, then there’s no coming back.” 

You accept her advice, it confirms how you’ve been feeling, you’ll talk to him and he’ll fix it, then it’ll be okay. 

—-----------------------------

Peter caught you after lunch, his hand wrapped yours and he placed a kiss to the back of it. 

“Consensus?” 

“We should talk.” Peter wouldn’t admit it, but that made his stomach drop. You were talking about him to a friend and then said those words, it didn’t sit well with him, a wave of panic hit him, he didn’t want to talk to you, he was scared of what you would say. 

“Yeah, of course, baby. After school? You can come over, May’s gonna be out all night, we have the place to ourselves.” 

It sounds like a perfect opportunity, if you play your cards right Peter may even spend the whole night home with you. You press up on your feet to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth, “sounds perfect,” it settled his nerves some. 

He felt even better when you sat on his lap during the train ride, your arm wrapped out his neck, his own was wrapped around your waist, sharing headphones you rested your head against his. Peter felt like you were loving up on him, and you were, but mostly because you felt touch starved from him, and this was the first time in a while you had him all by yourself. 

Peter tapped your thigh when his stop came up, you stood with his hand intertwined with yours. They swung the whole walk back, talking about school and May’s new friend from work, throwing in plans for the weekend, it sent a small pang to your heart, you were scared of them failing. 

He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter, his backpack sitting on a bar chair. “What’s up?” 

“I, uh,” you pause to think of the right words, “I’ve been feeling a little-” Peter’s police scanner went off, a bank robbery. You felt the air leave your lungs, you couldn’t even talk about the problem because of the problem. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I need to go.” He dashed to his room, quickly stripping to get his suit on. You couldn’t handle it anymore, you follow him and stop him as he’s pulling his suit up his waist. 

“Peter, I really need to talk to you.” 

His eyes flit to yours, he pulls his arm through a sleeve. “Baby, I gotta go. We can talk later.” 

You feel bold, maybe this is the wrong time but MJ is right, resentment is building. 

“No, Peter, we need to talk.” 

He presses his chest, his suit conforms. You hate the sight of it right now, a thought of hiding it passes by. 

“And we can talk later, there’s nothing pressing. I have to go.” 

“Our relationship is pressing, Peter.” 

His eyes narrow, “are you saying it’s on the line?” 

You look at the window behind him, “it will be if you leave.” 

The scanner bleats in the quiet room, they’re requesting back up. Tension is building, you both are die hard on your stances, neither wanting to bend. 

“I need to go, someone could need me.” 

Your words cry out, like you’re pleading to him, “I need you!” 

Peter breathes in and out, he feels bad but he’s needed elsewhere, you’ll be okay, others might not. 

“You have me, I promise. But, really baby, I need to go.” 

You blink tears in your eyes, you’re telling him you need him and he’s leaving, he’s ignoring, he’s brushing you off, he’s not taking you seriously. 

He pulls his window open, you can’t believe he’s leaving. 

“If you go then I’m leaving, I’m not going to wait around for you. Not anymore.” 

Peter doesn’t know what that means, “promise me you’ll stay here, I’ll come right back, I promise. Then I’m all yours, okay?” 

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond, swinging off before you could even get words out. It hurt, and he didn’t believe you. He thinks he can just get away with things, that no matter what he did or how long he disappeared you’d be waiting. 

Well, he was wrong. You didn’t need this, not anymore. This time, Peter could come to you, you tried and he refused to listen. If he wanted this relationship then he’d fight for it like he did Spider-Man. 

You packed your things and left, when Peter came home an hour later you were gone without a trace, he tried to call you but all he got was your voicemail. 

—---------------------------

The next morning he came, almost, running up to you. “Hey! I tried calling you last night.” You didn’t sound nearly as happy to see him as he was, “I know, I ignored you.” His eyebrows pinched, “why?” You pushed the arm he had around your shoulder off, it was petty but you were proving a point, things weren’t fine and you won’t pretend they were. 

“You didn’t want to talk to me, I didn’t want to talk to you.” 

Peter hated to fight, this was bordering on fight territory, he wanted to avoid that at all costs. 

“Hey, if this is about last night I’m sorry, I really am. Come over later, I promise I’ll listen.” 

You sigh and shake your head, “you know, Peter, I’m really tired of you promising me your time then taking it away.” 

“I’m not doing it on purpose, you saw how it went down yesterday, there was nothing I could do.” 

There was, it was to choose that you were the more important thing at the time.

“Peter, it’s getting really hard to have a boyfriend I can’t rely on.” 

Internal panic hits again. “What does that mean?” 

You look him over, “it means I don’t really want to talk to you today.” And with that, you walk away. 

—---------------------

Peter was in a funk all day, you stayed true to your word and stayed away unless you needed to talk to him. He understood that what you needed to talk to him about was important, so he decided it was important to him too, he also really missed holding your hand all day. 

You weren’t even home for four hours before he was knocking at your door, Peter could deprive himself from you fine, but when he was aware of it he counted every second. Your plan worked. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

“Please talk to me, I miss you.” 

You opened your door and gestured for him to come in, he followed you right to your bedroom. He takes a seat on your bed and looks at you expectantly. You didn’t know how to start, you just tried being honest.

“I feel like you don’t spend time with me anymore.” Your words were small, you feel so selfish. 

“I don’t-” 

“For the past couple weeks I’ve felt like I didn’t have a boyfriend, it feels like everytime we hang out you run out on me for something Spidey related. And I hate telling you this, I’ve been bottling it up but MJ said it would lead to resentment and I don’t want to resent you and ruin the relationship, so even though I feel really selfish I just have to tell you this.” 

He’s waiting on you, he’s letting you speak your mind. 

“I know you’re doing important things, and I know the city needs you but I need Peter. I need my boyfriend, I need to have date nights and personal time and I need to not feel neglected.” 

You’re rambling, you need him to talk. He’s looking at you weird, it’s a new look, you can’t place it. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Peter feels choked on words, “I’m sorry. I’m just… really sorry.” 

“I don’t know how to tell you without feeling bad. I don’t want you to feel like you have to make a choice, I don’t want you to choose, I just want-” 

“-Me to choose you sometimes.” 

You breathe out, “yeah.” 

“I get it. I may be Spider-Man but you’re dating Peter, and you need him more right now. I can do that, I’ll plan things better. We can do a designated date night, nothing but earth ending situations can break it. And from now on maybe Spidey doesn’t need to go out for every cop call.” 

You nibble on your bottom lip, “really?” 

He reaches forward to grab your hand, “I don’t want you to resent me and I don’t want you to resent Spidey, I just get so caught up in it sometimes, I need you to ground me.” 

“You’re not mad at me?” 

“For needing me and wanting to spend more time with me, your boyfriend? I could never. Let’s make a schedule, we can plan around Spider-Man. I could do a few hours with you after school then do Spidey after you leave? Or if you want I could-” 

You cut him off with a kiss and thirty minutes later he’s on top of you kissing up and down your neck, his lips ground themselves to yours, you can’t remember the last time he’s touched you like this. His hands slide up your shirt and you exhale into his mouth, you jump when his scanner goes off. 

“All units to Goldburg’s Golds and Gems, active robbery and hostage in progress.” The radio scratched the voice of the operator, Peter barley breaks from your mouth, you hold your breath and wait for the apology, the promise of one last time. 

Instead he reaches out to the scanner and turns it off, he returns to kissing you, then trails down your neck. 

“You sure you don’t need to go?” 

Peter’s words vibrate against your collarbone, “let NYPD’s finest handle it, my girl needs me more.” 

With that he tugs your shirt off. 

[alienoresimagines]

Masters of the Air Masterlist

Misc.

Mota Incorrect Quotes

Why we should give Crank more love Ted Talk

Mota Characters as John Mulaney Quotes

Buck x Bucky | Clegan

Sheepskin HC

What If John Was Never Shot Down HC

John edition Gale Edition

Clegan as written by A. E. Housman

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Drag Me Under (2519 words) also on AO3

For the Prompt : [ CAREFUL ]: sender gently lifts the receiver out of their seat and carries them carefully to bed after noticing they fell asleep and not wanting to waken them. Or Gale fell asleep on the couch, leaving it up to Bucky to get him to bed without waking him. He has feelings about it all. Mostly, he's in love.

Of Safe Places and Kisses (1419 words) also on AO3

It is Gale's turn to fall victim to the nasty cold that spread through the 100th, which leaves Bucky in charge of bringing him back to health. He takes that duty very, very seriously. Gale just wants to some cuddles.

Gale And His Feelings For Bucky, in Four Acts (6239 words) only on AO3

No dam could've withstood the force of nature John Egan is. No strength on Earth could've stopped Gale from loving him, not even himself. And now, both sat on opposite ends of the couch, Gale reading and John intently listening to a baseball game on the radio but Buck's right hand holding on to Bucky's left, he can't keep the words in his mouth. "I love you." The words curve around his tongue, twirl in the air until they're embedded in every wall of their house, and dance around Bucky who immediately smiles wide, as if Buck hasn't said the words a thousand times by now. It took him two years to figure the words out from the maze in his head, another one to admit them to himself as something eternal and inevitable, and then an additional two to voice them, give them shape and sound until there really is no escape from them, and now he can't stop uttering them. It's freeing in a way he never knew words could be. As though he gives a piece of himself to Bucky with every utterance, and he wants Bucky to have all of him. Or Gale's journey from realizing his feelings for Bucky to realizing Bucky feels the same towards him.

Your Heart Will Always Be Known To Me (7005 words) only on AO3

For the prompt : [ NAP ] while receiver is resting, sender joins them in bed & cuddles up close Or After a long day at work, Gale cannot wait to go home to Bucky, especially since today was a special one for his better half. But instead of the enthusiast welcome home he is used to, he finds Bucky fast asleep in their bed, and is overwhelmed with so much love he has to let it out and let John know how loved he is.

Never Coming Down (With Your Hand In Mine) (1862 words) also on AO3

For the prompt : [Knuckles] for a kiss on the hand Or Gale's hands are terribly cold in the Stalag and John's more than happy to hold them until they're warm.

And so the weed of sorrow springs at the four cross ways (6536 words) only on AO3 (Outsider's POV)

Neil and his wife never had children, and yet, he realizes as he watches Bucky’s bottom lip tremble and feels the lump in his throat growing in answer, he’s already familiar with the grief of a father. - Still reeling from losing Buck on the Bremen mission, Chick tries his hardest to keep his boys together, especially Bucky. But an overheard confession that could get the other man sent home with a blue ticket forces him to make a decision that could change the outcome of the Münster mission and drastically change Buck and Bucky's fate.

I'd rather be in hell with you (Than in Heaven with somebody else) (681 words) also on AO3

Seeing John arrive in the Stalag, bruised and battered, brings Gale more joy than he's felt in days; until guilt knocks him off his feet. John is having none of it.

Driving In Your Car (I've Never Felt Safer) (790 words) also on AO3

Buck hasn't had enough sleep lately. Luckily for him, Bucky offers to drive him to the mess, allowing him to sleep for a few more minutes. Little does Bucky know that a sleepy and pining Buck proves to be devoid of the reserve he's accustomed to, and it isn't long before Bucky finds himself with a blush on his cheeks.

S'Cute (853 words) also on AO3 (clipped video of Bucky's "S'cute")

Gale is already looking at him, eyes bright and fond and loving, the golden light of the pub shining in his hair and creating perfect shadows on an already perfect face. He's cute. Gale's eyes widen a bit, a blush immediately finding its way onto his cheeks, and it's only then John realizes he’d spoken out loud. Alcohol made the words slur a bit in his mouth, coming out more as "S'cute" than an appropriate sentence but still Gale heard him. Now ducking his head shyly, a small pleased smile on his face, golden hair perfectly styled making him glow among the rest of them, he looks so sweet and handsome, and he's all Bucky's to love.

I'm On The Run With You, My Sweet Love (9,250 words) only on AO3

For the Prompts : "I don't want to move" + Lake Sex -- On a hot summer day, John and Gale enjoy an afternoon off-base at a nearby lake, far from the war and its destruction. They laugh, cuddle, kiss, talk about the future, with no one but the warm summer sun as their witness. Also they come. Twice.

Tell Me You're Going To Be Alright (I Don't Want The World To Turn Without You) (14,564 words) only on AO3

For the prompt : Classics - muse a tends to muse b’s wounds with more care than necessary -- Perhaps life really only started when he opened the door to his room in flight school and shook hands with Gale Cleven. Perhaps the twenty-four years before that were only to learn how his legs and arms worked to get him to this moment, where he learned how his heart did. Or After the Regensburg Mission, John cannot forget just how close he came to losing Gale forever. He copes how he can, tending to Gale's wounds, and holding him when the adrenaline leaves him and Gale can't keep up the officer façade anymore. He lets Gale take care of the cuts that adorned his face even though John had forgotten them. And then, when all the wounds have been treated, desperation to feel just how alive the other still is settles in, like a wildfire of urgency that not even the presence of their men a few feet away can soothe.

Half Of Your Heart Beats In My Chest | Clegan Vampire AU

HCs Part One

HCs Part Two

Dog!John

Dog!John and Meatball

Every inch of your skin is a Holy Grail I've got to find (3063 words) only on AO3

For the Prompt : Thigh or Stomach Kisses -- Kissing John might be one of Gale's favorite things in the world, but right now, there's nothing he desires more than to watch the other come undone beneath him. His left hand leaves dark curls to brace on one broad shoulder, giving him leverage to sit back up, even though he can't help but crane his neck to steal quick kisses. John starts leaning up on his elbows to chase him, and even if it makes something swell in his chest, Gale stops him with a hand on the valley of his chest, fingers tangling lightly on the dust of hair there to push him back down gently but firmly. "Don't," the word comes out as a rasp, arousal making his head swim as he straightens up. Beneath him, John whines pitifully, the sound high in his throat but he flops back down obediently, looking up at Gale with half-lidded eyes, chest heaving.

Clegan Royalty/Bodyguard AU

Moodboard + Premise

Our love, for eternity (1536 words) also on AO3

In all the years they’ve known each other and amongst all the different things they’ve done with and to each other, few things have felt as intimate as Gale kissing his hand, no matter how many times he’s done it. Each one feels like a vow, full of more emotions and words than anyone could ever see behind the gesture. Many people have brought John’s hand to their lips- or their forehead, an alternative he prefers with strangers, he has to admit- in a sign of loyalty. But Gale always does it in absolute devotion and love, so sincere and raw it never fails to tighten John’s throat with so many emotions he cannot name until he almost chokes on them. To all assembled in the throne room today, it is a common gesture meant to show utmost servitude to a monarch. To John, it’s timeless proof there is no one more devoted to him and his heart than the man currently kneeling at his feet. There’s a reverence in how Gale does it. -- After two weeks apart, Gale and John are finally reunited, and though they cannot greet each other as they would like, the eyes of too many on them, they still find a way to show just how much they've missed the other.

Disclaimer : Anything written here is purely about the actors' portrayal in the Apple TV show, no disrespect to any of the real guys intended of course :)

Band Of Brothers/The Pacific Masterlist Navigation